lowed the rain-water to be
taken from their water-butts in the vicinity to such liberal extent that
I verily believe there was not a drop of rain-water to be got for love or
money when that eventful day was out. Staid housewives for many a day
after complained of the dirt the trampling of feet had made in their
lobbies and yards, and deplored the loss of their stores of soft-water.
At that time water was precious, every drop that could be obtained was
saved, garnered, and carefully kept. Every drop of hard-water we
consumed had to be brought to our doors and paid for by the "Hessian" or
bucket. The water-carts were old butts upon wheels, drawn by sorry
horses and driven by fat old creatures, half men half women in their
attire and manners. The buckets were made of leather and the water was
sold at a halfpenny per Hessian. They were so called, I believe, from
their fancied resemblance to the Hessian boots. You may judge how
inadequate a supply of water we had when our wants were dependent upon
such aid. The water-carts came rumbling and tumbling along the streets,
in many cases losing one-half of their loads by the unusual speed at
which they were driven and the awkwardness of their drivers. Water was
also carted from the river, and I helped with others to push the carts up
Water-street. The steep ascent of this street in its badly paved
condition made this work extremely laborious. But everybody helped and
did what they could, and those who did nothing made up for deeds by words
and shouted and bawled and told the others what they ought to do.

Fortunately, only one life was lost, that of a fool-hardy young man who
would press forward to see the fire better--he rushed up to the
High-street door and a piece of timber fell on him. The surging of the
crowd caused several persons to be struck down and trampled upon. I
saved one woman's life by beating off the people who would have crushed
her. By twelve o'clock the fire had slackened considerably, and by the
evening it was to all appearance subdued. But the fire in the interior
remained smouldering for some time afterwards. In the churches on that
day the event was alluded to in a very feeling manner, and in St. Peter's
Church the rector offered up a prayer of thanksgiving that the town had
been spared from a more extensive calamity.

At this time High-street (there was a famous tavern called the
"Punch-Bowl" in this street) was the communication between Cast