Lord Nelville had fixed his departure for Rome for the morrow, when he heard, during the night the most dreadful cries in the city.  He hastily quitted the inn in order to learn the cause, when he beheld a terrible fire, which proceeded from the port, and climbed from house to house even to the very top of the city.  The flames were mirrored at a distance in the sea; the wind, which increased their fierceness, also disturbed their image in the surging waves, which reflected in a thousand ways the lurid traits of the conflagration.

The inhabitants of Ancona[2], not having among them pumps in good condition, were obliged to carry water to extinguish the flames, which they did with great eagerness.  Amidst the din of different cries was heard the clank of chains, from the galley slaves, who were employed in saving that city which served them for a prison.  The different nations of the Levant, which commerce draws to Ancona, expressed their fear by the stupor which appeared in their looks.  The merchants, on beholding their warehouses in flames, entirely lost their presence of mind.  Alarm for the loss of fortune affects the common order of men as much as the fear of death, and does not inspire that energy of the soul, that enthusiasm which brings resources to our aid.

The cries of sailors have always something doleful and prolonged in them, and were now rendered still more so by terror.  The mariners on the shores of the Adriatic are clad in a red and brown hooded cloak of most singular appearance, and from the midst of this vestment emerged the animated countenances of the Italians, painting fear in a thousand shapes.  The inhabitants, throwing themselves down in the streets, covered their heads with their cloaks, as if nothing remained for them now to do but to avoid seeing their disaster; others precipitated themselves into those flames from which they entertained no hope of escaping.  A thoughtless fury and a blind resignation appeared by turns; but nowhere was seen that cool deliberation which redoubles our resources and our strength.

Oswald recollected that there were two English vessels in the harbour which had on board pumps of the best construction:  he ran to the captain, who accompanied him in a boat to bring away these pumps.  The inhabitants, seeing them enter the boat, exclaimed, “Ah! strangers you do well to quit our unhappy city!” “We shall come back again,” said Oswald.  They did not believe him.  He returned however, fixed one of the pumps opposite the first house on fire, near the port, and the other facing that which was burning in the middle of the street.  The Count d’Erfeuil exposed his life with carelessness, courage, and gaiety; the English sailors, and the domestics of Lord Nelville, all came to his aid; for the inhabitants of Ancona remained motionless, hardly comprehending what these strangers were about, and not expecting the least success from them.