; and,
supporting my mother, my sisters clinging to us in silent terror, we
were borne along with the crowd down Middle Street to India. I cannot
remember any incidents of that walk. The hurrying throng around me, the
flying sparks, and the roar of the engines, seem like the confusion of a
dream.

Our sister, who met us at the door, felt perfectly secure, and had done
nothing towards packing. I gave her an account of our proceedings,
thinking each moment of some precious thing I might have brought away.
We went to the front door, and looked out on the scene before us. The
fire seemed to come on the wings of the wind. Middle Street was ablaze;
Wood's marble hotel was in flames, together with the beautiful dwelling
opposite. The fire leaped from house to house, and, if for a moment
checked, it was but to rush on in wilder fury. Churches, one by one,
were seized by the flame, and crumbled into ruin before it. No human
power could arrest its fierce progress. In vain the firemen put forth a
strength almost superhuman: their exertions seemed but to add to its
fury. Explosion after explosion gave greater terror to the scene:
buildings were successively blown up in the useless effort to bar its
pathway; the fire leaped the chasm and sped on. Fugitives of every age
and condition were hurrying through the streets, laden with everything
imaginable,--especially looking-glasses, which seem the one important
thing to be saved during a fire. My brother and cousin had not yet made
their appearance, nor had we seen anything of my brother-in-law, from
the other end of the city. But we knew they must be at their places of
business, which were now in the heart of the burning district. Swiftly
the destruction hurried towards us; and people were now seen bringing in
their goods and seeking shelter on our premises. O what heart-broken
faces surrounded us that fearful night! Friends, and people we had never
seen, alike threw themselves on our kindness; and I must say that a
spirit of humanity and good-will seemed everywhere prevalent among the
citizens. We were now ourselves tortured by suspense. Could we escape,
or should we again have to seek refuge from the flames? Surely the work
of destruction would stop before it reached India Street? The hot breath
of the maddening fire, and its lurid glare, were the only response. O,
if the wind would only change! But a vane, glistening like gold in the
firelight, steadfastly pointed to the southeast.