About four in the afternoon the fire first began, caused (it was said) by some children playing with matches. As may be easily imagined, from the fact of the very old houses, all built of wood, being crushed into narrow streets and enclosed within walls, the flames spread rapidly; so fast, indeed, they came on, that the poor people flying were forced to throw down the goods they were trying to save and run for their lives. The church, being on an eminence a little out of the town, was thought quite secure, and in it were stored the effects from the neighbouring houses until it was filled from roof-tree to floor.
The night now set in dark as pitch; still the fire crept on, reaching its red forked tongue over the narrow streets, in spite of the water which was freely supplied from the river; at last the church caught, and the flames, bursting from windows and roof, consumed all the goods that were stored, and destroyed the old building itself.
Trarbach in flames.
The sight was superb; the whole space, enclosed by the hills in which the town lay, surged in great waves of fire: in this huge molten sea great monsters appeared to be moving, whose shapes seemed writhing with pain as those of the devils in hell.
The glare fell on the ruins of Gräfinburg, and the water reflected it back. The houses were all burnt to the ground, excepting only those seen in the view, and a very few others which lay in the outskirt. The inhabitants laboured all night with the engines, but at six in the morning, when we came away, great clouds of dull smoke still ascended from where Trarbach had stood, but which now was only a ruin.
This fire was one of a series. In three succeeding days, Zell, Zeltingen, and Trarbach were more or less burnt; and within a short time Berncastel was thrice visited by the Fire-fiend. Many other smaller fires also took place, and no one could give us the reason; troops were sent out from Trèves, but nothing was ever elicited.
Traben, which was also partially burnt, is a curious enough place, and has as bad pavement as any in Europe: the little inn there was well spoken of by Murray, so now they charge very dear, and give very indifferent food. When we speak of dearness on the Moselle, we do not mean actually dear, for prices are far lower than those on the Rhine; only when in one little inn we get our supper and bed, with bottle of wine, for three shillings, we grumble at paying five for the same in another, where nothing is better.
Not far from Traben is the place where Kloster Springiersbach formerly stood in a solitude; here came crowds of pilgrims, for the place was most holy, and inhabited by many pious monks: of one of these a legend is told, called