“Madly they rushed hither and thither, ruthlessly cutting down and pistoling all they met, men, women and children, broaching rum casks, looting shops and houses, destroying for mere lust and wantonness until, after a great deal of difficulty, Morgan got his men under control and, assembling them in the market place, gave strict orders that none should touch or drink any liquor owing to the fact, so he said, that he had won a confession by torture from prisoners that all the wine had been poisoned. In reality, he undoubtedly foresaw that, should his men become drunk, they would fall easy victims to the Spaniards and that the Dons thus might retake the city. “Morgan, however, was in a frenzy, an overpowering passion, a demoniacal rage, for the people, having been warned of his coming, had carried off the bulk of the riches in the city. The most precious altar pieces, the wonderful gold altar of San José church, the chests of coins, the bullion and plate, vast fortunes in gems and the most valuable merchandise had all been loaded hurriedly onto ships which had sailed away, no one knew whither, long before the buccaneers arrived. There were to be sure, boats within the harbor, but it was low tide—the tide in the Pacific rises and falls for nearly twenty feet—the boats were high and dry, and Morgan could not even send a craft in chase of the fleeing treasure ships. “Beside himself with rage, Morgan secretly ordered the city fired and in a moment the place was a hell of raging flames. Morgan, in order to excite his men the more, and to bring greater revenge upon the Spaniards, claimed that the Dons had started the blaze, but there is no question that he was the culprit, for Esquemeling, who was present, does not hesitate to make the statement. Morgan, however, had overstepped his mark; even his men fought valiantly side by side with the Spaniards to extinguish the flames, but to no avail. In half an hour an entire street was a smoldering heap of ruins and as most of the city consisted of flimsy houses of native cedar and of thatched and wattled huts it burned like tinder. And here let me point out that the accepted ideas of this old city of Panama are very erroneous. Because the ruins left standing are of stone, the public, and many historians, have assumed that it was a city of stone buildings. This, however, was not the case. Esquemeling particularly states that, ‘all the houses of the city were built of cedar, being of curious and magnificent structure and richly adorned within, especially with hangings and paintings, being two thousand of magnificent and prodigious building with five thousand of lesser quality.’ Moreover, in the official description of the city, preserved in the Archives of Seville, it is stated that the houses were of wood, and they were divided into two classes,—those with and those without floors, the latter being greatly in the majority. Thus it is easily seen how a fire would sweep the city