onquerable determination of the Russians. During the
following night the wind rose suddenly, and carried the flames of the
burning Bazaar along several of the most beautiful streets of Moscow,
the fire spreading rapidly among the wooden buildings, and consuming
them with alarming rapidity.

But this was not the most disturbing indication. Rockets were seen in
the distance, ascending into the air, and immediately afterwards fire
broke out in a dozen quarters, and hired bandits were seen carrying
combustibles at the end of long poles, and seeking to extend the empire
of the flames. A number of these were arrested, and under threat of
death revealed a frightful secret. The Count of Rostopchin had ordered
that the great city of Moscow should be set on fire and burned, with as
little heed for the immense loss involved as he would have had in
ordering the burning of a wayside village.

The news filled the whole army with consternation. Waiting till the wind
had risen, the ferocious count had sent up his signal-rockets to order
the work to begin. He had done more. On running to the pumps to obtain
water to extinguish the flames, there were none to be found. They had
been removed and the fire-extinguishing apparatus destroyed in
preparation for this incendiary work.

Napoleon, alarmed and incensed, ordered that all caught in the act of
firing buildings should be executed on the spot. The army was directed
to use every effort to extinguish the flames. But the high wind set all
their efforts at defiance. It increased in fury and varied in direction,
carrying the conflagration over new quarters. From the Kremlin could be
seen vast columns of fire, shooting from building to building, wrapping
the wooden structures in lurid sheets of flame, sweeping destruction
forward at frightful speed. The roar of the flames, the explosions that
from time to time took place, the burning fragments which filled the
air, borne on the wings of the wind, all went to make a scene as grand
and fearful as human eye has ever gazed upon. To Napoleon and his men,
who saw their hopes of safe and pleasant winter-quarters thus vanishing
in flame, it must have been a most alarming and disquieting spectacle.

After blowing for some hours from the north-west, the wind shifted to
the south-west, and the conflagration invaded new regions of the city.
The Kremlin, hitherto out of the range of the flames, was now in danger.
Fiery sparks, borne by the wind, fell on