re to the nature of the
materials contained in this building, or to some imprudence committed
by our soldiers. In fact, the fire was mastered, and we had time to
reassure ourselves.

But all at once the fire burst out at almost the same instant with
extreme violence in a collection of buildings that was called the
Bazaar. This bazaar, situated to the northeast of the Kremlin
comprized the richest shops, those in which were sold the beautiful
stuffs of India and Persia, the rarities of Europe, the colonial
commodities, sugar, coffee, tea, and, lastly, precious wines. In a few
minutes the fire had spread through the bazaar, and the soldiers of
the guard ran in crowds and made the greatest efforts to arrest its
progress. Unhappily, they could not succeed, and soon the immense
riches of this establishment fell a prey to the flames. Eager to
dispute with the fire the possession of these riches, belonging to no
one at this time, and to secure them for themselves, our soldiers, not
having been able to save them, tried to drag out some fragments.

They might be seen coming out of the bazaar, carrying furs, silks,
wines of great value, without any one dreaming of reproaching them for
so doing, for they wronged no one but the fire, the sole master of
these treasures. One might regret it on the score of discipline, but
could not cast a reproach on their honor on that account. Besides,
those who remained of the people set them an example, and took their
large share of these spoils of the commerce of Moscow. Yet it was only
one large building--an extremely rich one, it is true--that was
attacked by the fire, and there was no fear for the town itself. These
first disasters, of little consequence so far, were attributed to a
very natural and very ordinary accident, which might be more easily
explained still, in the bustle of evacuating the town.

During the night of the 15th of September the scene suddenly changed.
As if every misfortune was to fall at once on the old Muscovite
capital, the equinoctial wind arose all at once with the double
violence natural to the season and to level countries where nothing
stops the storm. This wind, blowing at first from the east, carried
the fire westward, along the streets situated between the roads from
Tver and Smolensk, and which are known as the richest and most
beautiful in Moscow, those of Tverskaia, Nikitskaia, and Povorskaia.
In a few hours the fire, having spread fiercely among the woo