I was not an idle observer during all this. I carried boxes and bundles without number, placing them in nooks that the owners considered safe. Vain delusion. Everything I laid hands to save was eventually burnt. In one place there was a long train of empty railway cars. People thought the railway company would be sure to save their cars, so they would put in their goods. I worked as I never worked before, loading up the cars with all kinds of things, but before I had finished the train was on fire and it burnt up as would a train of gunpowder on the flags. This was my last act of kindness on the West side; it being close to the river, I crossed over to what is called the South side. To return to the fire account. After crossing the river, I stood and gazed on the burning mass. It was thought it could not cross eighty yards of water. The firemen made a hard fight here to prevent its going any further, and it looked somewhat as if they might succeed. At this point I left, a fire having broken out behind me about four hundred yards away. This was on the side of the river I was on, so there was no doubt but that the fire had crossed. Of course this took away a lot of engines and left the old fire to do as it liked; it soon jumped the river too, and joined the new one. I went to see this new fire and found it to be among a nest of wooden shanties that went like tinder. Upon close observation I saw that it was within a few yards of the gas works, so thought it better to quit and plant myself at a reasonable distance from it. In going away I took the liberty of hammering people up, as the fire was spreading so rapidly it might reach them before all of them could get out. The streets were all quiet as I passed along, but soon were busy enough with people turning out. I was also busy enough assisting to put out little fires, such as linen awnings that sparks had ignited, and pieces of wooden side walks that were burning, until I got to the heart, and best part of the city where all buildings were built of brick, stone, iron, or marble, and many of them without any wood except the office desks and furniture. I felt sure the fire would never go through these buildings; still to make my mind easy, I went to the Brigg’s House, and commenced packing. This was one o’clock, wind still blowing a gale, the fire within a quarter of a mile from the hotel, and just beginning to cross the street to the good part of the city. Although I was packing, I really did not believe the fire would reach the place where I was.