m above, mingled the high, clear voices of the choir of nuns in the
convent, beseeching in fervent litanies the help of their patron saint.
True, the singing was often drowned by the noise from the street, for the
fire marshals and quartermasters had been informed in time, and watchmen,
soldiers in the pay of the city, men from the hospital, and the abandoned
women (required by law to help put out the fires) came in little groups,
while bailiffs and servants of the Council, barbers (who were obliged to
lend their aid, but whose surgical skill could find little employment
here), members of the Council, priests and monks arrived singly. The
street also echoed with the trampling of many steeds, for mounted
troopers in coats of mail first dashed by to aid the bailiffs in
maintaining order, then the inspector of water works, with his chief
subordinate, trotted along to St. Klarengasse on the clumsy horses placed
at their disposal by the Council in case of fire. He was followed by the
millers, with brass fire engines. While their well-fed nags drew on
sledges, with little noise, through the mire of the streets now softened
by the rain, the heavy wooden water barrels needed in the work of
extinguishing the flames, there was a loud rattling and clanking as the
carts appeared on which the men from the Public Works building were
bringing large and small ladders, hooks and levers, pails and torches, to
the scene of the conflagration.

Besides those who were constrained by the law, many others desired to aid
the popular Sisters of St. Clare and thereby earn a reward from God. A
brewer had furnished his powerful stallions to convey to the scene of
action, with their tools, the eight masons whose duty it was to use their
skill in extinguishing the flames. All sorts of people--men and
women--followed, yelling and shrieking, to seek their own profit during
the work of rescue. But the bailiffs kept a sharp eye on them, and made
way when the commander of the German knights, with several companions on
whose black mantles the white cross gleamed, appeared on horseback, and
at last old Herr Berthold Vorchtel trotted up on his noble grey, which
was known to the whole city. He still had a firm seat in the saddle, but
his head was bowed, and whoever knew that only one hour before the corpse
of his oldest son, slain in a duel, had been brought home, admired the
aged magistrate's strength of will. As First Losunger and commander in
chief he was t