As the group dispersed, Elizabeth’s heart pounded with the weight of the choices being made around her. There was no timefor regret, only resolve. With a last glance toward the servants’ rooms, she turned and hurried back upstairs to help her family.
She met Mrs. Gardiner coming down from the second floor towards the front, a firm expression on her face and a satchel in her hand. “Put your bag at the door, Elizabeth, then come help me with the children.”
Obediently, Elizabeth practically tossed her bag into the entryway before racing up the stairs after her aunt to the third floor. The scent of smoke was now much heavier, and Elizabeth knew that everyone could most likely smell it by now.
Nurse was already quite busy in the children’s room, gathering blankets and coaxing the younger children awake. Elizabeth stepped in to help, gently shaking her oldest cousin’s shoulder. “Come now, darling, you must wake up. We need to leave.”
Eleven-year-old Beth blinked sleepily and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “What is happening, Cousin Lizzy?”
Elizabeth forced a calm smile, brushing a stray curl from Beth’s forehead. “We are going on an adventure, my love… but we must hurry. Can you be a brave girl for me?”
Beth nodded, still too drowsy to grasp the gravity of the situation. Together, Elizabeth, Mrs. Gardiner, and Nurse hastily dressed the children, bundling them in whatever layers were in reach. Although it was summer, the nights could grow chilly with the humidity and wind. Two-year-old baby Alexander whimpered as Elizabeth scooped him up, his small fists clutching at her gown.
“I think that’s everything,” Mrs. Gardiner said, casting a quick glance around the room. “We should go before the smoke thickens.”
With the children in tow and a few bags with them, the two women made their way back down the stairs. The murmur of voices grew louder as they neared the front hall, where Mr. Gardiner was organizing the handful of remaining servants into a small group, lantern in hand.
“Everyone is ready?” he asked briskly, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group.
“Yes,” Mrs. Gardiner confirmed, shifting four-year-old Christopher in her arms. “Elizabeth and I have the two youngest children. Nurse, can you manage Jacob? Stay close, Beth.”
Nurse nodded and gripped the eight-year-old boy’s hand tightly. Mrs. Batson stepped forward. “I can watch Beth.”
Mrs. Gardiner gave the housekeeper a grateful nod. “Thank you,” she said fervently. Looking around at the group, she turned to her husband. “Shall we go?”
Mr. Gardiner nodded. He raised his voice and addressed the crowd. “Stay close together, everyone, and keep moving. We will head toward the river first, south of the docks, and see if the bridge there is passable. The other side of the water is the only way to guarantee the fire cannot reach us.”
Elizabeth tightened her grip on the baby, steeling herself for the chaos awaiting them. As they stepped onto the street, it was like entering another world, one that had been ripped from the pages of Revelation. The orderly rows of houses were shrouded in an eerie glow, the orange light from the docks flickering like some malevolent force.
Now outside, the smell of smoke was overpowering. The air, sharp with ash, scratched at Elizabeth’s throat, and she forced back the urge to cough as the group moved cautiously down the steps and out into the street.
“Maybe we should fetch the carriage,” a footman yelled above the noise from scores of people running to and fro, their cries of terror echoing off the walls of the closely-built houses lining the roadway.
Mr. Gardiner shook his head firmly. “It is too late for that. The streets are crowded, and the horses will be spooked by the smoke and commotion. We will make better progress on foot.”
“But the children—” Mrs. Batson began, clutching Beth’s hand tightly.
“We will carry them on our backs if we must,” Elizabeth interrupted, grateful her voice held steady. “Mr. Gardiner is correct; we must be able to maneuver easily through the crowds.”
“Now, stay close together,” Mr. Gardiner’s expression was grim but resolute. “Watch your step and each. No one gets left behind, understood?”
Everyone nodded, and the group pressed forward into the hordes of panicked Londoners. They forced their way southwest, towards the river but further from the docks.Lord, let us reach the bridge quickly, Elizabeth prayed fervently.
In spite of their progress, the heat in the air grew more oppressive with each passing moment. The distant crackle of flames was becoming a steady roar, punctuated by the occasional crash of collapsing buildings. Elizabeth forced herself to focus on the path head, her throat aching from the smoke as she held Alexander tightly to her chest.
The pandemonium around them increased, with people darting out of alleys, clutching bundles of possessions, some with tears streaming down soot-streaked faces. A man barreled past,nearly knocking over one of the maids, and Elizabeth reached out to steady her.
“Keep moving,” she urged, her voice loud enough to carry but calm enough to reassure. “The more distance we put between us and the fire, the safer we will be.”
They turned down a narrow alleyway, using a route that normally Elizabeth would never have dared in the daytime, let alone the wee hours of the morning. It significantly decreased the distance between them and the bridge, however, and there were fewer people along that route.
Eventually the alleyway ended, expelling the weary band of refugees onto the main room. They only made it a half-dozen yards when it became clear that there was no way to continue on. The street was jam packed with hundred—if not thousands—of people, shoving their way towards the river.
“What is going on?” Mrs. Gardiner cried to her husband, who just shook his head and looked around in dismay.
Elizabeth spied a stone bench near one of the buildings, and she ran over to step on top of it. Although she was not tall herself, the added height allowed her to see over the heads of the panicking, unruly mob.
Her heart sank.
