5.1.1 The Great Fire Triangle: Urban Environment meets Natural Forces

“with one’s face in the wind you were almost burned with a shower of Firedrops.” Pepys, 2015.

Standing 61m tall atop the site of the first of the 87 parish churches to be destroyed by the Great Fire of London [Fig. 43], The Monument both commemorates the “most dreadful” event (Charles II, 1666) and celebrates the rebuilding of the City of London thereafter. Designed by Surveyor General to King Charles II and architect of St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Old Royal Naval College, Sir Christopher Wren, and curator of experiments at the Royal Society and Surveyor to the City of London, Dr. Robert Hooke, architecturally, the memorial marks a paradigmatic turning point.

Famously igniting on the evening of September 2nd 1666 in a baker’s house in Pudding Lane, the fire had reached temperatures as high as 1250°C (Museum of London, 2017) before incinerating 436 acres, and with them the homes of 90% of the city’s 80,000 citizens. The scene was so bleak as for author and diarist Sir John Evelyn to state that London “was now no longer a city” (Evelyn, 2007).

But, 17th century Londoners were no strangers to fire. Indeed, in a city made of dried biomass in the presence of innumerable open flames, fires were frequent, though usually contained. Hence, “big fires were the exception, not the rule” (Garrioch, 2016, p. 319). However, the Great Fire was not the first major incident of its kind: all but destroyed by a conflagration in 1132, London had again been engulfed by flames in 1212 (Ibidem).

In years past, whereupon one of London’s many watchmen had sighted a fire he would alert the citizenry with a peel of church bells. Locals, including militia, would then arrive at the scene equipped with the likes of firehooks, axes, and in some instances, explosives, which, much like modern-day fire fighters working to contain a forest fire, they would use to create firebreaks whereupon the application of water via buckets and hoses was insufficient to extinguish the flames. However, as far-sighted individuals such as Evelyn had anticipated, the city’s architectural materiality in combination with its urban design was a disaster waiting to happen.

In the aftermath of the Great Fire, rumours of its causations “spread faster than the blaze”, (Rodriguez McRobbie, 2016), with possible culprits including the French, Dutch, Catholics, and God, the latter said to have inflicted a penance on the city’s sinners. However, while Wren, Hooke, Evelyn, and their peers had not access to the wide array of scientific equipment, therein such data as is available today, the findings of a Parliamentary report published in 1667 evidence recognition that Earth Systems, including weather, had impacted upon the event, noting “nothing hath been found to argue it to have been other than the hand of God upon us, a great wind, and the season so very dry” (Robinson, 2011).

Meteorologically, 17th Century London was the in grips of the onset of the period dubbed the Little Ice Age. While well known for its severe winters, and the frost fairs that stood atop the Thames, the city’s citizenry had rather more than extreme cold to contend with. Tree ring reconstructions and the dendrochronological records built therefrom, together with weather observations that were noted in parish records (Schove, 1966), evidence that the city of the 1600s experienced a juxtaposition of bitterly cold winters and hot, dry and drought-ridden summers. Parish records also reveal the chronology of church collections for they whom had lost their homes to fire (Ibidem). 17th century London, like 20th and early 21st century California and Oregon, experienced a fire season, which running from April to September (Ibidem) saw the city behave much like a forest. However, in the years 1212 – 1633, “there is no record of London experiencing any [major] fires” (Garrioch, 2016, p. 319), which suggests that, as in present-day western U.S. wildlands, fire probability was coupled to the climate regime.

The summers of 1665 and 1666 delivered a duo of droughts so extreme as for Pepys to note, “even the stones were ready to burst into flames (Allaby, 2003, p.128). Three hundred and forty years later, historical climate reconstructions would indicate that the latter, together with the summer of 1669 were “the driest on record”, (Sheffield and Wood, 2011, p.87). Thus, with two sides of the fire triangle [fuel and oxygen] in ample supply, all as was needed was a spark, and when that spark came, and in combination with strong eastward winds as were noted in parish records, the urban equivalent of a high intensity variant of the mixed fire regime ripped through the city.

In the eyewitness visual accounts thereof, we see topography, including the natural boundary formed by the river Thames, framing the fire’s path [Fig. 44]. We see the fire creating its own weather, as flames, towering high above the rooftops of London, drew down oxygen, fuelling the fire’s rapid advancement in the process. We see flames engulfing the surface to the urban canopy, thus forming a continuous wall of flames, as the fire moves through an urban schematic of predominantly closed structure, but for its narrow streets and occasional clearings, such as the parameter of the Gothic masterpiece that was Old St. Paul’s Cathedral. As this active crown fire rapidly spread, both the colouration and the height of the flames in visual accounts, together with the fire’s footprint, and forensics [i.e. analysis of pottery shards from sites including Pudding Lane], evidences that a combination of radiative, convective, and conductive heating would have pre-heated the buildings’ various biomass components to combustible temperatures. In and of itself, the fuel loading, compactness, chemical properties, horizontal continuity, and vertical arrangement of the architecture and urban design of early Stuart London was sufficient to suggest an architecturally lethal ‘stand replacing fire’.

Adding fuel to the Great Fire, highly volatile substances, including but not limited to gunpowder, were stored in both warehouses along the waterfront and in homes and business premises about the City. Whereupon combined with an array of anthropogenically-crafted cellulose-based items, such as papers, pamphlets, books and textiles, of which the flatness and surface area to volume ratio made them readily aerodynamic upon ignition [the pine needles of this urbanland fire], the means of propagation were copious: flaming seeds [fire spotting], described by Pepys as ‘firedrops’, were flung far and wide, their motion propelled by both the fire’s own internal forces, and those of the atmosphere. Indicative of the Great Fire’s intensity, therein capacity to choreograph its course of combustion is the fact that though the winds were blowing eastwards, the spatiotemporal dimensions of the fire’s footprint evidence a differential between the eastwards and westwards spread rate of approx. 3:1, the ratio thereof particularly notable given that the terrain was relatively flat and homogenous, therein winds, fuel-type and structure were the primary factors driving the fire fronts forward. While we have not an audio recording, we have Pepys words, which tell us that the Great Fire’s soundtrack was every bit an ominous as that of its wildland counterpart.

Bringing perspective to the scale of the Great Fire, such was the fuel quantity and fuel-state, in the form of the densely packed tinder-dry biomass buildings, and the accelerants distributed thereabouts, as leaves no doubt that its intensity and spread rate would be a match for the most intense wildland fires referenced in this thesis. No wonder they that witnessed the event were “distracted by the vastness of it” (The London Gazette, 1666), for none were the ‘late-successional stage’ architectural ‘species’ of early Stuart London as were endowed with the properties of Endurers, Evaders, or Resisters, as discussed in 4.2.6, ‘Systema Naturæ per ignem regnis’.

350 years to the day after the Great Fire, its wildland equivalent started in Eagle Creek, Oregon, which though not as well-known as its urban antecedent would nonetheless gain notoriety in consequence of an image that went viral [Fig. 45] (Pullen 2017; Criss, 2017). Its alleged causation anthropogenic (Brettman, 2017b), data including ocular accounts, and the fire’s Soil Burn Severity map (BAER, 2017), evidence the fire to have been a high intensity variant of the mixed fire regime. While, burning through 48,500 – 48,759 acres (Ibidem; National Forest Foundation, 2017) the Eagle Creek fire covered a footprint of just over one hundred times the size of the Great Fire, there are similarities between the two.

Whereas, the Thames limited the southwards spread of the Great Fire, the Columbia river limited the northwards spread of the Eagle Creek fire. Standing since Roman times, London Wall prevented the northwards spread of the Great Fire. Likewise, topographic features guided the Eagle Creek’s fire trajectory, as can been seen in the Soil Burn Severity map and satellite maps [Fig. 46], which clearly indicates that the fire’s intensity was coupled to the terrain’s gradient: convection [rising hot air and gases] accelerated the rate of combustion as the fire spread up mountain slopes, the process thereof possibly accelerated by ridge lift, wherein wind is deflected upwards whereupon hitting a ridge or cliff, and in the instance of a fire, taking Pepys’ ‘firedrops’ with it. In contrast, conduction [heat transferred through direct contact] increased the fire’s rate of spread down mountain slopes, as true to Newton’s Law of Universal Gravitation, burning branches and other debris descended from on high, propagating numerous spot fires in the process. Thus, upon looking to the Soil Burn Severity map we see the highest elevation slopes and ridges around the site marked ‘Dublin Lake’ overlap with the highest burn severity, as marked in red, the latter representative of the fact that “nearly all pre-fire ground cover [was] consumed’, soil structure rendered “less stable or destroyed”, and bare soils made “susceptible to erosion” (BAER, 2017) [Fig. 47].

Meteorologically, eastward winds aren’t the only correlation between the Great Fire and its wildland counterpart, evidence for which resides in the pages of Portland’s oldest daily newspaper, The Oregonian, of which a headline published on September 1st 2017 read “August is hottest on record at PDX; more on the way for Labor Day” (http://www.oregonlive.com, 2017). However, the extreme heat of summer 2017 built on a trend, as suggested in another headline, “2015 was Oregon’s warmest year on record, data shows” (http://www.oregonlive.com, 2016), which in turn syncs with the findings of several studies of the spatiotemporal dynamics of wildfires in the western U.S., as succinctly summed up in the statement that a “sharp increase in the number of fires” has been observed, with the hypothesised causations combinatory: a mix of climatological [Fig. 48] and anthropogenic (Barros et al, 2017). When the Great Fire struck, Londoners had just experienced an “extremely cold” winter, which was “accompanied with a continued frost ‘till spring” (Rush, 1809), and “reputedly the coldest day ever in England” (Fauvell and Simpson, n.d). Correspondingly, Oregonians experienced an exceptionally cold winter ahead of the Eagle Creek fire (Brettman, 2017a; Erdman, 2017). Thus, climatologically, while differentiated, the conditions as constitute the underlying foundations as facilitated the Great Fire mirror those of the Eagle Creek fire. Anthropogenically, in both instances, human-action increased the probability of a high-intensity stand replacing fire.

“the quercus urbana, which grows more upright, and being clean and lighter is fittest for timber.” Evelyn, 2007b.

Contrary to the conclusions of some, such as James Howel who stated there not any place “better armed against the fury of fire” (Howel, 1657, p. 398), in the years preceding 1666, such was the density and general disarray of London’s urban biomass schemata as to make another major fire inevitable. Indeed, so unimpressed was Evelyn with the city’s urban planning and the fire risk indigenous thereto as to state “if there be a resemblance of Hell upon Earth, it is in this” (Evelyn, 1659 online). Two years prior to the Great Fire, transdisciplinary researcher and practitioner, Evelyn had published seminal silvology tome ‘Sylva: A Discourse on Forest-Trees and the Propagation of Timber in His Majesty’s Dominions’, which testament to his being the 17th century’s foremost expert in forestry makes evident the depth of his understanding of the material properties of wood, and the risks inherent therein: where Howel saw buildings, Evelyn saw biomass, it being fuel. However, it took not copious study of forests and timber harvested therefrom to recognise London’s fire risk, thus, the era’s answer to futurists, they being prophets, had likewise warned of such an event. For example, in 1659 one Daniel Baker had penned, “a consuming fire shall be kindled” (Weiss, 2012, p.61), and in 1660 a Quaker by the name of Humphrey Smith had spoken of a vision in which, “all the tall buildings”, and “lofty things therein” would burn in a fire that “searched out all the hidden places, and burned most of the street places” (Ibidem). Three and half centuries later, multiple studies evidence that factors including mismanagement of wildlands, politically not scientifically orientated policies and regulations, and anthropogenic ignition sources have increased the probability of wildland fires in both Oregon and the wider western U.S. region.

In the perspectives of Pepys, Wren, Hooke, and Evelyn we see the pragmatism of modern-day scientists: minds that correlate causes with effects. However, ahead of their time, the lens through which they viewed the Great Fire, and indeed all the natural events as unfolded in their midst, was not that through which the wider populous peered. Folklore, superstition, and religion underpinned much popular opinion. But, as discussed in the Literature Review, wrong would it be to assume that in myth, legend, and storytelling there reside not some truths, wherein the communication methodology may be different, but, fundamentally, the intent [dissemination of information and ideas] is the same. Plunder the earliest written records of human thought, as scribed in ancient Mesopotamia and Sumer, and one finds air and air currents ascribed sacred status in the form of the deities Enlil and his consort Ninlil. Walk South West to pharaonic Egypt and one finds two similar characters in Amun and Shu. Whereas, the Greeks and Romans had a veritable Parthenon of wind gods, the Anemoi, which led by Aeolus were associated with an array of attributes, many of which were positive, but for they of Eurus, the god of the East and Southeast wind. But, not merely in stone and papyrus papers are accounts of the unpropitious nature of Eastward winds present. In the pages of the most published book in print reads, “Seven ears, withered, thin, and blighted by the East wind, sprouted after them” (Genesis, 41: 23, Bible.com), the words thereof echoing insights from the dawn of the agricultural revolution, it being the foundation stone upon which civilisation and cities were built.

While Stuart Londoners worshipped not wind gods, meteorology was nonetheless imbued in their lores, beliefs, and proverbs. Nigh two hundred years before the founding of the Met Office, mariners and the wider citizenry of the merchant city of London relied not on science, but on indigenous knowledge shared through the medium of rhyme for their weather forecasts. Linguistically, “St. Swithun’s day if thou dost rain, For forty days it will remain, St. Swithun’s say if thou be fair, For forty days ‘twill rain nae mare”, speaks to a date of origin sufficiently old as to suggest Pepys and his peers would have known the phrase. Might they too have known, “When the wind is in the East, ‘tis neither good for man nor beast” (Speake, 2015, p.348), or a rhyme as conveys a like-for-like message? Similarly, in an age ahead of formalised Public Health and Safety announcements as relate to weather conditions, “Beware of oak, it draws the stroke, Avoid an ash, it courts the flash,” (Gooley, 2014, p.151) evidences there a multiplicity of means of communicating environmental information, which, in this instance is correct, for the English oak [Quercus robur], and the Ash [Fraxinus excelsior] do indeed attract lightening (DeRosa, 1983).

Reverting to the late 20th and early 21st Century: the measures by which the propitiousness of wind direction is measured may be different, but the conclusions drawn therefrom are one in the same with respect to the implications to human settlements. Look to the pages of the June 8th 2017 issue of Emergency Management and one reads Tim Dawdy, division chief with Clark County Fire & Rescue advising, “When we have periods of east wind I want our citizens to go out and check out burn piles and make sure those burn piles don’t come back to life” (Matarrese, 2017, online). Turn one’s attention instead to the Draft Environmental Impact Statement on Proposed Land Resource Management at Siskiyou National Forest and one finds “East Wind Periods” associated with “catastrophic or stand replacement wildfires” (McCormick, 1987, p.III-70). However, winds as align to the course as was traced by the mythological ‘Eurus’ are not alone in their affiliation with wildfires. Peruse satellite imagery of two of California’s largest chaparral wildfires on record, the Cedar Fire [Fig. 49] and the Thomas Fire [Fig. 50], and one sees streams of smoke drifting on the katabatic [109] Santa Ana winds, their direction headed from land to sea, East to West, their origin the air masses that rise above the continental interior of the western U.S (Berkowitz and Steckelberg, 2017; Fovell, 2002). In reference to the latter, the December 7th 2017 edition of the Los Angeles Times ran the headline “Wind is the culprit in 2017’s horrific wildfire season” (Boxall, 2017, online). Bringing phenomenological perspective thereto, Tim Ortiz, captain at the Bakersfield Fire Department said of the fire to which the headline relates, “like nothing I’ve ever been involved with before... winds enough to almost push you over” (Tso, 2017). Vice versa, regional and national news agencies acknowledged that, as was the case with the Great Fire, for all the human interventions, it was a change in the weather that tamed the Thomas Fire’s ferocious flames (Reuters, 2017; Buzzfeed, 2018), which in the period December 4th 2017 to January 12th 2018 burned through 281,893 acres [the largest acreage in the state’s modern history] and 1,063 structures (CALFIRE, 2018), and, at a provisional estimate, $2.5billion (Artemis, 2018). By comparison, the Great Fire, it being the event, which, in 1681 led Nicholas Barbon to launch the first fire insurance scheme, cost an estimated £10million (Museum of London, 2018), which, if adjusted for inflation equates to approximately £37billion today (Association of British Insurers, 2016).

However, though both the Great Fire and the Thomas Fire burnt through colossal sums of public and private finance, human causalities were surprisingly low. In the latter instance one fire fighter and one civilian lost their lives (Gabbert, 2018). Whereas, in the former, while it’s commonly cited that but a handful were consumed by the fire, others consider it more likely than several thousand lives were lost (Eveleth, 2014). Bringing context thereto, though none have yet modelled the metrics of the Great Fire [i.e. simulated the event using software as could generate an approximation thereof], whereupon eye-witness accounts are converged with data as is known of the atmospheric conditions, biomass quantity and state, and the fire’s footprint, it is reasonable to assume that, as in the instance of the Grenfell Tower fire (Cheng, 2017), such temperatures were reached [upwards of 870°C] as would have cremated the bodies of those who befell to the flames. Regardless of whether several or several thousand lives were lost to the Great Fire, given it ignited at 10pm (London Fire Bridge, 2017) and spread rapidly through a densely populated area in which 80,000 people were resident, one might argue that even the greater of the fatality figures is relatively low.

One might reasonably attribute the low fatality rates of both the Great Fire and the Thomas Fire [Fig. 51] to human agency, which in the latter instance comprised a fire crew numbering over 8,500 persons (Etehad and Brittny, 2017). The spatiotemporal distances that divide the Great Fire, Eagle Creek fire, and Thomas Fire may be great, but at the level of biochemistry, and in turn, of the Earth systems intertwined therewith, urban or wildland, many are the commonalities between the three.

>Continue to Chapter 5.12. here.

Footnotes

[109] Katabatic winds form when, under gravitational force, high-density air descends downwards.

The thesis is also available in PDF format, downloadable in several parts on Academia and Researchgate.

Note that figures have been removed from the digital version hosted on this site, but are included in the PDFs available at the links above.

Citation: Sterry, M. L., (2018) Panarchistic Architecture: Building Wildland-Urban Interface Resilience to Wildfire through Design Thinking, Practice and Building Codes Modelled on Ecological Systems Theory. PhD Thesis, Advanced Virtual and Technological Architecture Research [AVATAR] group, University of Greenwich, London.