Pera and Galata, was in flames.  Over three hundred houses were sparks, already burnt out.  The wooden houses, kindled by falling crackled like faggots, and we could see the conflagration spreading like a spot of oil.  Fifty houses away from those actually on fire, people were turning out, throwing doors and windows and furniture into the streets, without warning of any kind.  Drawing nearer the scene of the fire, we came upon a troop of vile-looking fellows, the rioters of our country, grafted onto the Mussulman fanatic--kavasses were raining blows with their sticks on this crowd of volunteers (or thieves); firemen, bare-armed and turbanless, hurried along, with their fire pumps on their shoulders, shouting shrilly and knocking over people as they went; troops kept coming up from all quarters, horsemen trotted up at full speed, and packs of terrified dogs tore wildly through the streets, howling with pain.  It was a singular sight indeed.

Seeing the flames kept gaining ground, and were already licking the first houses in the European quarter in Pera, I sent orders for the crews of two of our ships, anchored at Tophana, to land, slipped on my uniform, and put myself at their head, resolved to try and save the Frank town.  Luckily it was calm, or the attempt would have been quite hopeless.  But the sun had set red, and that presaged wind.  There was no time to be lost.  I hurried up with a hundred and fifty sailors.  The first houses on each side of the street of Pera were in flames, but a spot was pointed out to me, twelve or fifteen houses off, where, the street narrowing between a stone mosque and some gardens, one might hope to clear a space to stop the fire, by pulling down the five or six intervening houses.  I had no hesitation in giving the order for this, my men set eagerly to work, and all the active portion of the Frank population of Pera were seconding our efforts, when one of the generals of the garrison, Selim Pasha, came up with his men, and fell into a fury at the sight of what we were doing.  I forthwith seized him by the hand and dragged him, the dragoman of the Embassy, M. Lauxerrois, following us, to the top of the minaret of the mosque.  Here I said to the dragoman, “Do show this fool of a pasha that the clearing we are making is our only chance of saving Pera;” and as M. Lauxerrois began to translate this into Turkish, “Don’t trouble,” said Selim Pasha, in very good French, “I understand.”  I begged his pardon for the epithet, but he had passed suddenly already from rage to enthusiasm.  He tore down stairs four steps at a time, and I shortly saw him without his coat, in trousers and list braces, helping us to pull down the houses, and setting an example of the utmost activity to his own men.