Excerpt
Chapter 1: London Before the Flames
The streets of London in the 1660s were anything but quiet. From the moment the sun peeked out over the rooftops, the city burst to life with clattering carts, clanging blacksmiths, and the voices of people calling out from shop windows and market stalls. But the first thing you’d probably notice—before any of that—was the smell.
Everywhere you walked, there was a mix of odors. Fresh bread from the baker’s oven? Yes. Roasted meat from a cookshop? Also yes. But not far off, you might catch the sharp stink of garbage tossed into the street, or the not-so-nice whiff of horse manure. People didn’t have indoor plumbing like we do today. Waste often ended up in gutters, and when it rained, the whole mess flowed along the street edges. And if the sun was shining and the day was warm? Let’s just say the smell got stronger.
The buildings leaned in toward each other, like they were gossiping. Most were made of wood, packed close together, with upper floors jutting out over the street below. That made the roads narrow and shadowy, even during the day. Sometimes, you could stretch your arms out from one side and almost touch the house across from you. Laundry fluttered from the windows, and carved wooden signs hung from doorways instead of street numbers—like a boot for a shoemaker or a tankard for a tavern.
Shops didn’t have glass display windows. Instead, goods were often placed right out in front, where people could poke, sniff, or sample before buying. You might see chickens in cages, piles of vegetables on cloth-covered tables, or barrels filled with fish packed in salt. Vendors shouted to advertise their goods, barking out prices and deals, especially in the busier areas near the Thames River.
And then there were the animals. London wasn’t just full of people. There were dogs and cats, of course, but also pigs snuffling through scraps in alleyways and geese being herded down the street. Horses pulled carts loaded with firewood, hay, or furniture. Cows and sheep were sometimes walked right through town to market. If you weren’t careful, you could end up stepping in something you didn’t want to.
The air was often thick with smoke. Most homes used open hearths to cook and stay warm, and chimneys puffed all day long. Sometimes, the smoke from hundreds of fires drifted down and hung low, especially when the weather was still. People coughed more in winter. Clothes and hair smelled like smoke. Ash got on everything.
You wouldn’t see many streetlamps at night. Most streets went completely dark unless someone hung a lantern outside their home. Nightwatchmen walked the streets with torches and called out the hour, keeping an eye out for thieves or—worse—fires. If someone was out after dark, they usually carried a candle in a glass holder or an oil lamp. That made walking around tricky, especially when the ground was uneven or muddy.
Inside homes, the floors were often made of wood or packed earth. Rugs were rare and precious. Most people had a few pieces of furniture: a wooden table, some stools, and maybe a bed with a straw mattress. Kitchens were small, usually near the fireplace, with pots hanging on hooks and herbs drying from the ceiling beams. The light came from candles or the fire itself, which meant rooms were dim even in the daytime.
Smells didn’t stay outside. Inside the house, you might smell drying herbs, boiling stew, or sour milk. People bathed far less often than today. There was no running water—only basins, buckets, and rain barrels. Soap was expensive, and public bathhouses were falling out of favor. Many people thought bathing too often could make you sick. Because of that, most people tried to cover up body odor with perfumes or flower-scented sachets.
Children helped out around the house or worked in trades from a young age. Boys might become apprentices to learn skills like printing or carpentry. Girls helped with cooking, laundry, and selling items at the market. Most kids didn’t go to school unless their family was wealthy. Even then, schools were strict and serious—more about memorizing Latin than drawing or doing experiments.
You could hear church bells nearly every hour, ringing across the rooftops. The sound of bells marked time in a city without clocks in every home. People planned their day around the tolls—when to rise, when to work, and when to pray. London was full of churches, and their tall spires stuck up like watchtowers across the skyline.
The streets of London in the 1660s were anything but quiet. From the moment the sun peeked out over the rooftops, the city burst to life with clattering carts, clanging blacksmiths, and the voices of people calling out from shop windows and market stalls. But the first thing you’d probably notice—before any of that—was the smell.
Everywhere you walked, there was a mix of odors. Fresh bread from the baker’s oven? Yes. Roasted meat from a cookshop? Also yes. But not far off, you might catch the sharp stink of garbage tossed into the street, or the not-so-nice whiff of horse manure. People didn’t have indoor plumbing like we do today. Waste often ended up in gutters, and when it rained, the whole mess flowed along the street edges. And if the sun was shining and the day was warm? Let’s just say the smell got stronger.
The buildings leaned in toward each other, like they were gossiping. Most were made of wood, packed close together, with upper floors jutting out over the street below. That made the roads narrow and shadowy, even during the day. Sometimes, you could stretch your arms out from one side and almost touch the house across from you. Laundry fluttered from the windows, and carved wooden signs hung from doorways instead of street numbers—like a boot for a shoemaker or a tankard for a tavern.
Shops didn’t have glass display windows. Instead, goods were often placed right out in front, where people could poke, sniff, or sample before buying. You might see chickens in cages, piles of vegetables on cloth-covered tables, or barrels filled with fish packed in salt. Vendors shouted to advertise their goods, barking out prices and deals, especially in the busier areas near the Thames River.
And then there were the animals. London wasn’t just full of people. There were dogs and cats, of course, but also pigs snuffling through scraps in alleyways and geese being herded down the street. Horses pulled carts loaded with firewood, hay, or furniture. Cows and sheep were sometimes walked right through town to market. If you weren’t careful, you could end up stepping in something you didn’t want to.
The air was often thick with smoke. Most homes used open hearths to cook and stay warm, and chimneys puffed all day long. Sometimes, the smoke from hundreds of fires drifted down and hung low, especially when the weather was still. People coughed more in winter. Clothes and hair smelled like smoke. Ash got on everything.
You wouldn’t see many streetlamps at night. Most streets went completely dark unless someone hung a lantern outside their home. Nightwatchmen walked the streets with torches and called out the hour, keeping an eye out for thieves or—worse—fires. If someone was out after dark, they usually carried a candle in a glass holder or an oil lamp. That made walking around tricky, especially when the ground was uneven or muddy.
Inside homes, the floors were often made of wood or packed earth. Rugs were rare and precious. Most people had a few pieces of furniture: a wooden table, some stools, and maybe a bed with a straw mattress. Kitchens were small, usually near the fireplace, with pots hanging on hooks and herbs drying from the ceiling beams. The light came from candles or the fire itself, which meant rooms were dim even in the daytime.
Smells didn’t stay outside. Inside the house, you might smell drying herbs, boiling stew, or sour milk. People bathed far less often than today. There was no running water—only basins, buckets, and rain barrels. Soap was expensive, and public bathhouses were falling out of favor. Many people thought bathing too often could make you sick. Because of that, most people tried to cover up body odor with perfumes or flower-scented sachets.
Children helped out around the house or worked in trades from a young age. Boys might become apprentices to learn skills like printing or carpentry. Girls helped with cooking, laundry, and selling items at the market. Most kids didn’t go to school unless their family was wealthy. Even then, schools were strict and serious—more about memorizing Latin than drawing or doing experiments.
You could hear church bells nearly every hour, ringing across the rooftops. The sound of bells marked time in a city without clocks in every home. People planned their day around the tolls—when to rise, when to work, and when to pray. London was full of churches, and their tall spires stuck up like watchtowers across the skyline.