to the building; for the Governor of the Castle, Sir Lewis Kirke, hearing of the circumstance, caused a cannon to be mounted on a round tower on the North East side of the Castle, and from thence bombarded the Church, and set fire to it. The wind being high, the flames quickly spread to the adjoining College and Almshouses, and at last consumed all that remained of the High Town.[62] The soldiers belonging to the army of the Parliament endeavoured to arrest the progress of the fire, but they were so galled by shots fired from the walls of the Castle, that they were obliged to give over the attempt; so that the flames spread in every direction without resistance, and soon accomplished the work of destruction. Thus was our ancient town laid in ruins: scarcely anything belonging to it was spared. Private houses and public offices—the receipt of custom and the hall of justice—the mart of merchandise and the sanctuary of God—alike had become a prey to the devouring element; and little or nothing was left but bare walls, blackened and defaced by fire. The misery of the inhabitants is described as having been most severe. Rich and poor alike (for it was one of those visitations which levels all distinctions) were left houseless, and sought shelter where they could, in the fields around the town, in thickets, and under rocks: all their household property destroyed, and their life itself in jeopardy. Many a wretched invalid, wholly unfit to be moved, would be hurried from his bed to escape the flames—those at least who had any to care for them; while some, no doubt, in the confusion and alarm would be forgotten, and left to die a more awful death than they had looked for—their own bed becoming their funeral pile. He surely brings on himself a fearful responsibility who heedlessly evokes the spirit of war, and without an imperative necessity draws the sword to do its dreadful work. [61] Appendix H. [62] Appendix I. [Illustration: _Saint Leonard’s Church._]