As the Governor fled out, terrified as much at the wild tribes as of the French, in rushed these hordes, led on by their desperate chiefs.  These wretches undismayed, unmoved by the terrors of the bombarding ravages around, strove and vied with each other in the committal of every act of the most unlicensed ferocity and depredation, breaking open houses, assaulting the inmates, murdering such as shewed resistance, denuding the more submissive of their clothing, abusing women—­particularly in the Jewish quarter—­to all which atrocities the Europeans were likewise exposed.

At the most imminent hazard of their lives, the British Consul and his wife, with a few others, escaped from these ruffians.  Truly providential was their flight through streets, resounding with the most turbulent confusion and sanguinary violence.  It was late when the plunderers appeared before the Consulates, where, without any ceremony, by hundreds, they fell to work, breaking open bales of goods, ransacking places for money and other treasures; and, thus unsatisfied in their rapacity, they tore and burnt all the account-books and Consular documents.

Other gangs fought over the spoil; some carrying off their booty, and others setting it on fire.  It was a real pandemonium of discord and licentiousness.  During the darkness, and in the midst of such scenes, it was that the Consul and his wife threaded their precarious flight through the streets, and in their way were intercepted by a marauding band, who attacked them; tore off his coat; and, seizing his wife, insisted upon denuding her, four or five daggers being raised to her throat, expecting to find money concealed about their persons; nor would the ruffians desist until they ascertained they had none, the Consul having prudently resolved to take no money with them.  Fortunately, at this juncture, his wife was able to speak, and in Arabic (being born here, and daughter of a former Consul), therefore she could give force to her entreaties by appealing to them not to imbue their hands in the blood of their countrywomen.  This had the desired effect.  The chief of the party undertook to conduct them to the water-port, when, coming in contact with another party, a conflict about booty ensued, during which the Consul’s family got out of the town to a place of comparative security.

Incidents of a similar alarming nature attended the escape of Mr. Robertson, his wife, and four children; one, a baby in arms.  In the crowd, Mr. Robertson, with a child in each hand, lost sight of Mrs. Robertson, with her infant and another child.  Distracted by sad forebodings, poor Mr. Robertson forced his way to the water-port, but not before a savage mountainer—­riding furiously by him—­aimed a sabre-blow at him to cut him down; but, as the murderous arm was poised above, Mr. Robertson stooped, and, raising his arm at the time, warded it off; the miscreant then rode off, being satisfied at this cut at the detested Nazarene.