Transcriber's note
This book contains variable punctuation, hyphenation, archaic and incosistent spelling as well as apparent printer errors which have been retained as they appear in the original.
THE
STORM:
OR, A
COLLECTION
Of the most Remarkable
CASUALTIES
AND
DISASTERS
Which happen'd in the Late
Dreadful TEMPEST,
BOTH BY
SEA and LAND.
The Lord hath his way in the Whirlwind, and in the Storm, and the Clouds are the dust of his Feet. Nah. I. 3.
LONDON:
Printed for G. Sawbridge in Little Britain, and Sold by J. Nutt near Stationers-Hall. M DCC IV.
THE PREFACE
Preaching of Sermons is Speaking to a few of Mankind: Printing of Books is Talking to the whole World. The Parson Prescribes himself, and addresses to the particular Auditory with the Appellation of My Brethren; but he that Prints a Book, ought to Preface it with a Noverint Universi, Know all Men by these Presents.
The proper Inference drawn from this remarkable Observation, is, That tho' he that Preaches from the Pulpit ought to be careful of his Words, that nothing pass from him but with an especial Sanction of Truth; yet he that Prints and Publishes to all the World, has a tenfold Obligation.
The Sermon is a Sound of Words spoken to the Ear, and prepar'd only for present Meditation, and extends no farther than the strength of Memory can convey it; a Book Printed is a Record; remaining in every Man's Possession, always ready to renew its Acquaintance with his Memory, and always ready to be produc'd as an Authority or Voucher to any Reports he makes out of it, and conveys its Contents for Ages to come, to the Eternity of mortal Time, when the Author is forgotten in his Grave.
If a Sermon be ill grounded, if the Preacher imposes upon us, he trespasses on a few; but if a Book Printed obtrudes a Falshood, if a Man tells a Lye in Print, he abuses Mankind, and imposes upon the whole World, he causes our Children to tell Lyes after us, and their Children after them, to the End of the World.
This Observation I thought good to make by way of Preface, to let the World know, that when I go about a Work in which I must tell a great many Stories, which may in their own nature seem incredible, and in which I must expect a great part of Mankind will question the Sincerity of the Relator; I did not do it without a particular sence upon me of the proper Duty of an Historian, and the abundant Duty laid on him to be very wary what he conveys to Posterity.
I cannot be so ignorant of my own Intentions, as not to know, that in many Cases I shall act the Divine, and draw necessary practical Inferences from the extraordinary Remarkables of this Book, and some Digressions which I hope may not be altogether useless in this Case.
And while I pretend to a thing so solemn, I cannot but premise I should stand convicted of a double Imposture, to forge a Story, and then preach Repentance to the Reader from a Crime greater than that I would have him repent of: endeavouring by a Lye to correct the Reader's Vices, and sin against Truth to bring the Reader off from sinning against Sence.
Upon this score, tho' the Undertaking be very difficult among such an infinite variety of Circumstances, to keep, exactly within the bounds of Truth; yet I have this positive Assurance with me, that in all the subsequent Relation, if the least Mistake happen, it shall not be mine.
If I judge right, 'Tis the Duty of an Historian to set every thing in its own Light, and to convey matter of fact upon its legitimate Authority, and no other: I mean thus, (for I wou'd be as explicit as I can) That where a Story is vouch'd to him with sufficient Authority, he ought to give the World the Special Testimonial of its proper Voucher, or else he is not just to the Story: and where it comes without such sufficient Authority, he ought to say so; otherwise he is not just to himself. In the first Case he injures the History, by leaving it doubtful where it might be confirm'd past all manner of question; in the last he injures his own Reputation, by taking upon himself the Risque, in case it proves a Mistake, of having the World charge him with a Forgery.
And indeed, I cannot but own 'tis just, that if I tell a Story in Print for a Truth which proves otherwise, unless I, at the same time, give proper Caution to the Reader, by owning the Uncertainty of my Knowledge in the matter of fact, 'tis I impose upon the World: my Relater is innocent, and the Lye is my own.
I make all these preliminary Observations, partly to inform the Reader, that I have not undertaken this Work without the serious Consideration of what I owe to Truth, and to Posterity; nor without a Sence of the extraordinary Variety and Novelty of the Relation.
I am sensible, that the want of this Caution is the Foundation of that great Misfortune we have in matters of ancient History; in which the Impudence, the Ribaldry, the empty Flourishes, the little Regard to Truth, and the Fondness of telling a strange Story, has dwindled a great many valuable Pieces of ancient History into meer Romance.
How are the Lives of some of our most famous Men, nay the Actions of whole Ages, drowned in Fable? Not that there wanted Pen-men to write, but that their Writings were continually mixt with such Rhodomontades of the Authors that Posterity rejected them as fabulous.
From hence it comes to pass that Matters of Fact are handed down to Posterity with so little Certainty, that nothing is to be depended upon; from hence the uncertain Account of Things and Actions in the remoter Ages of the World, the confounding the Genealogies as well as Atchievements of Belus, Nimrod, and Nimrus, and their Successors, the Histories and Originals of Saturn, Jupiter, and the rest of the Celestial Rabble, who Mankind would have been asham'd to have call'd Gods, had they had the true Account of their dissolute, exorbitant, and inhumane Lives.
From Men we may descend to Action: and this prodigious Looseness of the Pen has confounded History and Fable from the beginning of both. Thus the great Flood in Deucalion's Time is made to pass for the Universal Deluge: the Ingenuity of Dedalus, who by a Clue of Thread got out of the Egyptian Maze, which was thought impossible, is grown into a Fable of making himself a pair of Wings, and flying through the Air:—the great Drought and violent Heat of Summer, thought to be the Time when the Great Famine was in Samaria, fabl'd by the Poets and Historians into the Story of Phaeton borrowing the Chariot of the Sun, and giving the Horses their Heads, they run so near the Earth as burnt up all the nearest Parts, and scorch'd the Inhabitants, so that they have been black in those Parts ever since.
These, and such like ridiculous Stuff, have been the Effects of the Pageantry of Historians in former Ages: and I might descend nearer home, to the Legends of Fabulous History which have swallow'd up the Actions of our ancient Predecessors, King Arthur, the Gyant Gogmagog, and the Britain, the Stories of St. George and the Dragon, Guy Earl of Warwick, Bevis of Southampton, and the like.
I'll account for better Conduct in the ensuing History: and tho' some Things here related shall have equal Wonder due to them, Posterity shall not have equal Occasion to distrust the Verity of the Relation.
I confess here is room for abundance of Romance, because the Subject may be safer extended than in any other case, no Story being capable to be crowded with such Circumstances, but Infinite Power, which is all along concern'd with us in every Relation, is suppos'd capable of making true.
Yet we shall no where so Trespass upon Fact, as to oblige Infinite Power to the shewing more Miracles than it intended.
It must be allow'd, That when Nature was put into so much Confusion, and the Surface of the Earth and Sea felt such extraordinary a Disorder, innumerable Accidents would fall out that till the like Occasion happen may never more be seen, and unless a like Occasion had happen'd could never before be heard of: wherefore the particular Circumstances being so wonderful, serve but to remember Posterity of the more wonderful Extreme, which was the immediate Cause.
The Uses and Application made from this Terrible Doctrine, I leave to the Men of the Pulpit; only take the freedom to observe, that when Heaven it self lays down the Doctrine, all Men are summon'd to make Applications by themselves.
The main Inference I shall pretend to make or at least venture the exposing to publick View, in this case, is, the strong Evidence God has been pleas'd to give in this terrible manner to his own Being, which Mankind began more than ever to affront and despise: And I cannot but have so much Charity for the worst of my Fellow-Creatures, that I believe no Man was so hard'ned against the Sence of his Maker, but he felt some Shocks of his wicked Confidence from the Convulsions of Nature at this time.
I cannot believe any Man so rooted in Atheistical Opinions, as not to find some Cause to doubt whether he was not in the Wrong, and a little to apprehend the Possibility of a Supreme Being, when he felt the terrible Blasts of this Tempest. I cannot doubt but the Atheist's hard'ned Soul trembl'd a little as well as his House, and he felt some Nature asking him some little Questions; as these—Am not I mistaken? Certainly there is some such thing as a God—What can all this be? What is the Matter in the World?
Certainly Atheism is one of the most Irrational Principles in the World; there is something incongruous in it with the Test of Humane Policy, because there is a Risque in the Mistake one way, and none another. If the Christian is mistaken, and it should at last appear that there is no Future State, God or Devil, Reward or Punishment, where is the Harm of it? All he has lost is, that he has practis'd a few needless Mortifications, and took the pains to live a little more like a Man than he wou'd have done. But if the Atheist is mistaken, he has brought all the Powers, whose Being he deny'd, upon his Back, has provok'd the Infinite in the highest manner, and must at last sink under the Anger of him whose Nature he has always disown'd.
I would recommend this Thought to any Man to consider of, one Way he can lose nothing, the other he may be undone. Certainly a wise Man would never run such an unequal Risque: a Man cannot answer it to Common Arguments, the Law of Numbers, and the Rules of Proportion are against him. No Gamester will set at such a Main; no Man will lay such a Wager, where he may lose, but cannot win.
There is another unhappy Misfortune in the Mistake too, that it can never be discover'd till 'tis too late to remedy. He that resolves to die an Atheist, shuts the Door against being convinc'd in time.
If it shou'd so fall out, as who can tell,
But that there is a God, a Heaven, and Hell,
Mankind had best consider well for Fear,
't should be too late when his Mistakes appear.
I should not pretend to set up for an Instructor in this Case, were not the Inference so exceeding just; who can but preach where there is such a Text? when God himself speaks his own Power, he expects we should draw just Inferences from it, both for our Selves and our Friends.
If one Man, in an Hundred Years, shall arrive at a Conviction of the Being of his Maker, 'tis very well worth my While to write it, and to bear the Character of an impertinent Fellow from all the rest.
I thought to make some Apology for the Meanness of Stile, and the Method, which may be a little unusual, of Printing Letters from the Country in their own Stile.
For the last I only leave this short Reason with the Reader, the Desire I had to keep close to the Truth, and hand my Relation with the true Authorities from whence I receiv'd it; together with some Justice to the Gentlemen concern'd, who, especially in Cases of Deliverances, are willing to record the Testimonial of the Mercies they received, and to set their Hands to the humble Acknowledgement. The Plainness and Honesty of the Story will plead for the Meanness of the Stile in many of the Letters, and the Reader cannot want Eyes to see what sort of People some of them come from.
Others speak for themselves, and being writ by Men of Letters, as well as Men of Principles, I have not Arrogance enough to attempt a Correction either of the Sense or Stile; and if I had gone about it, should have injur'd both Author and Reader.
These come dressed in their own Words because I ought not, and those because I could not mend 'em. I am perswaded, they are all dress'd in the desirable, though unfashionable Garb of Truth, and I doubt not but Posterity will read them with Pleasure.
The Gentlemen, who have taken the Pains to collect and transmit the Particular Relations here made publick, I hope will have their End answered in this Essay, conveying hereby to the Ages to come the Memory of the dreadfulest and most universal Judgment that ever Almighty Power thought fit to bring upon this Part of the World.
And as this was the true Native and Original Design of the first Undertaking, abstracted from any Part of the Printer's Advantage, the Editor and Undertakers of this Work, having their Ends entirely answer'd, hereby give their humble Thanks to all those Gentlemen who have so far approv'd the Sincerity of their Design as to contribute their Trouble, and help forward by their just Observations, the otherwise very difficult Undertaking.
If Posterity will but make the desired Improvement both of the Collector's Pains, as well as the several Gentlemens Care in furnishing the Particulars, I dare say they will all acknowledge their End fully answer'd, and none more readily than
The Ages Humble Servant.
THE STORM
CHAPTER I
Of the Natural Causes and Original of Winds
Though a System of Exhalation, Dilation, and Extension, things which the Ancients founded the Doctrine of Winds upon, be not my direct Business; yet it cannot but be needful to the present Design to Note, that the Difference in the Opinions of the Ancients, about the Nature and Original of Winds, is a Leading Step to one Assertion which I have advanc'd in all that I have said with Relation to Winds, viz. That there seems to be more of God in the whole Appearance, than in any other Part of Operating Nature.
Nor do I think I need explain my self very far in this Notion: I allow the high Original of Nature to be the Great Author of all her Actings, and by the strict Rein of his Providence, is the Continual and Exact Guide of her Executive Power; but still 'tis plain that in Some of the Principal Parts of Nature she is Naked to our Eye, Things appear both in their Causes and Consequences, Demonstration gives its Assistance, and finishes our further Enquiries: for we never enquire after God in those Works of Nature which depending upon the Course of Things are plain and demonstrative; but where we find Nature defective in her Discovery, where we see Effects but cannot reach their Causes; there 'tis most just, and Nature her self seems to direct us to it, to end the rational Enquiry, and resolve it into Speculation: Nature plainly refers us beyond her Self, to the Mighty Hand of Infinite Power, the Author of Nature, and Original of all Causes.
Among these Arcana of the Sovereign Oeconomy, the Winds are laid as far back as any. Those Ancient Men of Genius who rifled Nature by the Torch-Light of Reason even to her very Nudities, have been run a-ground in this unknown Channel; the Wind has blown out the Candle of Reason, and left them all in the Dark.
Aristotle, in his Problems, Sect. 23. calls the Wind Aeris Impulsum. Seneca says, Ventus est Aer Fluens. The Stoicks held it, Motum aut Fluxionem Aeris. Mr. Hobs, Air mov'd in a direct or undulating Motion. Fournier, Le Vent et un Movement Agitation de l'Air Causi par des Exhalations et Vapours. The Moderns, a Hot and Dry Exhalation repuls'd by Antiperistasis; Des Cartes defines it, Venti Nihil sunt nisi Moti & Dilati Vapores. And various other Opinions are very judiciously collected by the Learned Mr. Bohun in his Treatise of the Origin and Properties of Wind, P. 7. and concludes, 'That no one Hypothesis, how Comprehensive soever, has yet been able to resolve all the Incident Phenomena of Winds. Bohun of Winds, P. 9.
This is what I quote them for, and this is all my Argument demands; the deepest Search into the Region of Cause and Consequence, has found out just enough to leave the wisest Philosopher in the dark, to bewilder his Head, and drown his Understanding. You raise a Storm in Nature by the very Inquiry; and at last, to be rid of you, she confesses the Truth, and tells you, It is not in Me, you must go Home and ask my Father.
Whether then it be the Motion of Air, and what that Air is, which as yet is undefin'd, whether it is a Dilation, a previous Contraction, and then violent Extension as in Gun-Powder, whether the Motion is Direct, Circular, or Oblique, whether it be an Exhalation repuls'd by the Middle Region, and the Antiperistasis of that Part of the Heavens which is set as a Wall of Brass to bind up the Atmosphere, and keep it within its proper Compass for the Functions of Respiration, Condensing and Rarifying, without which Nature would be all in Confusion; whatever are their efficient Causes, 'tis not much to the immediate Design.
'Tis apparent, that God Almighty, whom the Philosophers care as little as possible to have any thing to do with, seems to have reserv'd this, as one of those Secrets in Nature which should more directly guide them to himself.
Not but that a Philosopher may be a Christian, and some of the best of the Latter have been the best of the Former, as Vossius, Mr. Boyle, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Verulam, Dr. Harvey, and others; and I wish I could say Mr. Hobbs, for 'twas Pity there should lie any just Exceptions to the Piety of a Man, who had so few to his General Knowledge, and an exalted Spirit in Philosophy.
When therefore I say the Philosophers do not care to concern God himself in the Search after Natural Knowledge; I mean, as it concerns Natural Knowledge, meerly as such; for 'tis a Natural Cause they seek, from a General Maxim, That all Nature has its Cause within it self: 'tis true, 'tis the Darkest Part of the Search, to trace the Chain backward; to begin at the Consequence, and from thence hunt Counter, as we may call it, to find out the Cause: 'twould be much easier if we could begin at the Cause, and trace it to all its Consequences.
I make no Question, the Search would be equally to the Advantage of Science, and the Improvement of the World; for without Doubt there are some Consequences of known Causes which are not yet discover'd, and I am as ready to believe there are yet in Nature some Terra Incognita both as to Cause and Consequence too.
In this Search after Causes, the Philosopher, tho' he may at the same Time be a very good Christian, cares not at all to meddle with his Maker: the Reason is plain; We may at any time resolve all things into Infinite Power, and we do allow that the Finger of Infinite is the First Mighty Cause of Nature her self: but the Treasury of Immediate Cause is generally committed to Nature; and if at any Time we are driven to look beyond her, 'tis because we are out of the way: 'tis not because it is not in her, but because we cannot find it.
Two Men met in the Middle of a great Wood; One was searching for a Plant which grew in the Wood, the Other had lost himself in the Wood, and wanted to get out: The Latter rejoyc'd when thro' the Trees he saw the open Country: but the Other Man's Business was not to get out, but to find what he look'd for: yet this Man no more undervalued the Pleasantness of the Champion Country than the other.
Thus in Nature the Philosopher's Business is not to look through Nature, and come to the vast open Field of Infinite Power; his Business is in the Wood; there grows the Plant he looks for; and 'tis there he must find it. Philosophy's a-ground if it is forc'd to any further Enquiry. The Christian begins just where the Philosopher ends; and when the Enquirer turns his Eyes up to Heaven, Farewel Philosopher; 'tis a Sign he can make nothing of it here.
David was a good Man, the Scripture gives him that Testimony; but I am of the Opinion, he was a better King than a Scholar, more a Saint than a Philosopher: and it seems very proper to judge that David was upon the Search of Natural Causes, and found himself puzzled as to the Enquiry, when he finishes the Enquiry with two pious Ejaculations, When I view the Heavens the Works of thy Hands, the Moon and the Stars which thou hast made; then I say, what is Man! David may very rationally be suppos'd to be searching the Causes, Motions, and Influences of Heavenly Bodies; and finding his Philosophy a-ground, and the Discovery not to answer his Search, he turns it all to a pious Use, recognizes Infinite Power, and applies it to the Exstasies and Raptures of his Soul, which were always employ'd in the Charm of exalted Praise.
Thus in another Place we find him dissecting the Womb of his Mother, and deep in the Study of Anatomy; but having, as it may be well supposed, no Help from Johan Remelini, or of the Learned Riolanus, and other Anatomists, famous for the most exquisite Discovery of human Body, and all the Vessels of Life, with their proper Dimensions and Use, all David could say to the Matter was, Good Man, to look up to Heaven, and admire what he could not understand, Psal.—I was fearfully and wonderfully made, &c.
This is very Good, and well becomes a Pulpit; but what's all this to a Philosopher? 'Tis not enough for him to know that God has made the Heavens, the Moon, and the Stars, but must inform himself where he has plac'd them, and why there; and what their Business, what their Influences, their Functions, and the End of their Being. 'Tis not enough for an Anatomist to know that he is fearfully and wonderfully made in the lowermost Part of the Earth, but he must see those lowermost Parts; search into the Method Nature proceeds upon in the performing the Office appointed, must search the Steps she takes, the Tools she works by; and in short, know all that the God of Nature has permitted to be capable of Demonstration.
And it seems a just Authority for our Search, that some things are so plac'd in Nature by a Chain of Causes and Effects, that upon a diligent Search we may find out what we look for: To search after what God has in his Sovereignty thought fit to conceal, may be criminal, and doubtless is so; and the Fruitlesness of the Enquiry is generally Part of the Punishment to a vain Curiosity: but to search after what our Maker has not hid, only cover'd with a thin Veil of Natural Obscurity, and which upon our Search is plain to be read, seems to be justified by the very Nature of the thing, and the Possibility of the Demonstration is an Argument to prove the Lawfulness of the Enquiry.
The Design of this Digression, is, in short, That as where Nature is plain to be search'd into, and Demonstration easy, the Philosopher is allow'd to seek for it; so where God has, as it were, laid his Hand upon any Place, and Nature presents us with an universal Blank, we are therein led as naturally to recognize the Infinite Wisdom and Power of the God of Nature, as David was in the Texts before quoted.
And this is the Case here; the Winds are some of those Inscrutables of Nature, in which humane Search has not yet been able to arrive at any Demonstration.
'The Winds,' says the Learned Mr. Bohun, 'are generated in the Intermediate Space between the Earth and the Clouds, either by Rarefaction or Repletion, and sometimes haply by pressure of Clouds, Elastical Virtue of the Air, &c. from the Earth or Seas, as by Submarine or Subterraneal Eruption or Descension or Resilition from the middle Region.'
All this, though no Man is more capable of the Enquiry than this Gentleman, yet to the Demonstration of the thing, amounts to no more than what we had before, and still leaves it as Abstruse and Cloudy to our Understanding as ever.
Not but that I think my self bound in Duty to Science in General, to pay a just Debt to the Excellency of Philosophical Study, in which I am a meer Junior, and hardly any more than an Admirer; and therefore I cannot but allow that the Demonstrations made of Rarefaction and Dilatation are extraordinary; and that by Fire and Water Wind may be rais'd in a close Room, as the Lord Verulam made Experiment in the Case of his Feathers.
But that therefore all the Causes of Wind are from the Influences of the Sun upon vaporous Matter first Exhal'd, which being Dilated are oblig'd to possess themselves of more Space than before, and consequently make the Particles fly before them; this does not seem to be a sufficient Demonstration of Wind: for this, to my weak Apprehension, would rather make a Blow like Gun-Powder than a rushing forward; at best this is indeed a probable Conjecture, but admits not of Demonstration equal to other Phænomena in Nature.
And this is all I am upon, viz. That this Case has not equal Proofs of the Natural Causes of it that we meet with in other Cases: The Scripture seems to confirm this, when it says in one Place, He holds the Wind in his Hand; as if he should mean, Other things are left to the Common Discoveries of Natural Inquiry, but this is a thing he holds in his own Hand, and has conceal'd it from the Search of the most Diligent and Piercing Understanding: This is further confirm'd by the Words of our Saviour, The Wind blows where it listeth, and thou hearest the Sound thereof, but knowest not whence it cometh; 'tis plainly express'd to signify that the Causes of the Wind are not equally discover'd by Natural Enquiry as the rest of Nature is.
If I would carry this Matter on, and travel into the Seas, and Mountains of America, where the Mansones, the Trade-Winds, the Sea-Breezes, and such Winds as we have little Knowledge of, are more common; it would yet more plainly appear, That we hear the Sound, but know not from whence they come.
Nor is the Cause of their Motion parallel to the Surface of the Earth, a less Mystery than their real Original, or the Difficulty of their Generation: and though some People have been forward to prove the Gravity of the Particles must cause the Motion to be oblique; 'tis plain it must be very little so, or else Navigation would be impracticable, and in extroardinary Cases where the Pressure above is perpendicular, it has been fatal to Ships, Houses, &c. and would have terrible Effects in the World, if it should more frequently be so.
From this I draw only this Conclusion, That the Winds are a Part of the Works of God by Nature, in which he has been pleased to communicate less of Demonstration to us than in other Cases; that the Particulars more directly lead us to Speculations, and refer us to Infinite Power more than the other Parts of Nature does.
That the Wind is more expressive and adapted to his Immediate Power, as he is pleas'd to exert it in extraordinary Cases in the World.
That 'tis more frequently made use of as the Executioner of his Judgments in the World, and extraordinary Events are brought to pass by it.
From these three Heads we are brought down directly to speak of the Particular Storm before us; viz. The Greatest, the Longest in Duration, the widest in Extent, of all the Tempests and Storms that History gives any Account of since the Beginning of Time.
In the further Conduct of the Story, 'twill not be foreign to the Purpose, nor unprofitable to the Reader, to review the Histories of ancient Time and remote Countries, and examine in what Manner God has been pleas'd to execute his Judgments by Storms and Tempests; what kind of things they have been, and what the Consequences of them; and then bring down the Parallel to the Dreadful Instance before us.
We read in the Scripture of Two Great Storms; One past, and the Other to come. Whether the last be not Allegorical rather than Prophetical, I shall not busie my self to determine.
The First was when God caused a strong Wind to blow upon the Face of the Delug'd World; to put a stop to the Flood, and reduce the Waters to their proper Channel.
I wish our Naturalists would explain that Wind to us, and tell us which way it blew, or how it is possible that any direct Wind could cause the Waters to ebb; for to me it seems, that the Deluge being universal, that Wind which blew the Waters from one Part must blow them up in another.
Whether it was not some perpendicular Gusts that might by their Force separate the Water and the Earth, and cause the Water driven from off the Land to subside by its own Pressure.
I shall dive no farther into that mysterious Deluge, which has some things in it which recommend the Story rather to our Faith than Demonstration.
The Other Storm I find in the Scripture is in the God shall rain upon the Wicked, Plagues, Fire, and a horrible Tempest. What this shall be, we wait to know; and happy are they who shall be secured from its Effects.
Histories are full of Instances of violent Tempests and Storms in sundry particular Places. What that was, which mingled with such violent Lightnings set the Cities of Sodom and Gomorrah on fire, remains to me yet undecided: nor am I satisfied the Effect it had on the Waters of the Lake, which are to this Day call'd the Dead Sea, are such as some fabulous Authors have related, and as Travellers take upon them to say.
CHAPTER II
Of the Opinion of the Ancients, That this Island was more Subject to Storms than other Parts of the World
I am not of Opinion with the early Ages of the World, when these Islands were first known, that they were the most Terrible of any Part of the World for Storms and Tempests.
Cambden tells us, The Britains were distinguish'd from all the World by unpassable Seas and terrible Northern Winds, which made the Albion Shores dreadful to Sailors; and this part of the World was therefore reckoned the utmost Bounds of the Northern known Land, beyond which none had ever sailed: and quotes a great variety of ancient Authors to this purpose; some of which I present as a Specimen.
Et Penitus Toto Divisos Orbe Britannos.
Britain's disjoyn'd from all the well known World.
Quem Littus adusta,
Horrescit Lybiæ, ratibusq; Impervia *Thule *Taken frequently for Britain.
Ignotumq; Fretum.
Claud.
And if the Notions the World then had were true, it would be very absurd for us who live here to pretend Miracles in any Extremes of Tempests; since by what the Poets of those Ages flourish'd about stormy Weather, was the native and most proper Epithet of the Place:
Belluosus qui remotis
Obstrepit Oceanus Britannis.
Hor.
Nay, some are for placing the Nativity of the Winds hereabouts, as if they had been all generated here, and the Confluence of Matter had made this Island its General Rendezvouz.
But I shall easily show, that there are several Places in the World far better adapted to be the General Receptacle or Centre of Vapours, to supply a Fund of Tempestuous Matter, than England; as particularly the vast Lakes of North America: Of which afterwards.
And yet I have two Notions, one real, one imaginary, of the Reasons which gave the Ancients such terrible Apprehensions of this Part of the World; which of late we find as Habitable and Navigable as any of the rest.
The real Occasion I suppose thus: That before the Multitude and Industry of Inhabitants prevail'd to the managing, enclosing, and improving the Country, the vast Tract of Land in this Island which continually lay open to the Flux of the Sea, and to the Inundations of Land-Waters, were as so many standing Lakes; from whence the Sun continually exhaling vast quantities of moist Vapours, the Air could not but be continually crowded with all those Parts of necessary Matter to which we ascribe the Original of Winds, Rains, Storms, and the like.
He that is acquainted with the situation of England, and can reflect on the vast Quantities of flat Grounds, on the Banks of all our navigable Rivers, and the Shores of the Sea, which Lands at Least lying under Water every Spring-Tide, and being thereby continually full of moisture, were like a stagnated standing body of Water brooding Vapours in the Interval of the Tide, must own that at least a fifteenth part of the whole Island may come into this Denomination.
Let him that doubts the Truth of this, examine a little the Particulars; let him stand upon Shooters-Hill in Kent, and view the Mouth of the River Thames, and consider what a River it must be when none of the Marshes on either side were wall'd in from the Sea, and when the Sea without all question flow'd up to the Foot of the Hills on either Shore, and up every Creek, where he must allow is now dry Land on either side the River for two Miles in breadth at least, sometimes three or four, for above forty Miles on both sides the River.
Let him farther reflect, how all these Parts lay when, as our ancient Histories relate, the Danish Fleet came up almost to Hartford, so that all that Range of fresh Marshes which reach for twenty five Miles in length, from Ware to the River Thames, must be a Sea.
In short, Let any such considering Person imagine the vast Tract of Marsh-Lands on both sides the River Thames, to Harwich on the Essex side, and to Whitstable on the Kentish side, the Levels of Marshes up the Stour from Sandwich to Canterbury, the whole Extent of Lowgrounds commonly call'd Rumney-Marsh, from Hythe to Winchelsea, and up the Banks of the Rother; all which put together, and being allow'd to be in one place cover'd with Water, what a Lake wou'd it be suppos'd to make? According to the nicest Calculations I can make, it cou'd not amount to less than 500000 Acres of Land.
The Isle of Ely, with the Flats up the several Rivers from Yarmouth to Norwich, Beccles, &c. the continu'd Levels in the several Counties of Norfolk, Cambridge, Suffolk, Huntingdon, Northampton, and Lincoln, I believe do really contain as much Land as the whole County of Norfolk; and 'tis not many Ages since these Counties were universally one vast Moras or Lough, and the few solid parts wholly unapproachable: insomuch that the Town of Ely it self was a Receptacle for the Malecontents of the Nation, where no reasonable Force cou'd come near to dislodge them.
'Tis needless to reckon up twelve or fourteen like Places in England, as the Moores in Somersetshire, the Flat-shores in Lancashire, Yorkshire, and Durham, the like in Hampshire and Sussex; and in short, on the Banks of every Navigable River.
The sum of the matter is this; That while this Nation was thus full of standing Lakes, stagnated Waters, and moist Places, the multitude of Exhalations must furnish the Air with a quantity of Matter for Showers and Storms infinitely more than it can be now supply'd withal, those vast Tracts of Land being now fenc'd off, laid dry, and turn'd into wholsome and profitable Provinces.
This seems demonstrated from Ireland, where the multitude of Loughs, Lakes, Bogs, and moist Places, serve the Air with Exhalations, which give themselves back again in Showers, and make it be call'd, The Piss-pot of the World.
The imaginary Notion I have to advance on this Head, amounts only to a Reflection upon the Skill of those Ages in the Art of Navigation; which being far short of what it is since arrived to, made these vast Northern Seas too terrible for them to venture in: and accordingly, they rais'd those Apprehensions up to Fable, which began only in their want of Judgment.
The Phœnicians, who were our first Navigators, the Genoese, and after them the Portuguese, who arriv'd to extraordinary Proficiency in Sea Affairs, were yet all of them, as we say, Fair-weather Sea-men: The chief of their Navigation was Coasting; and if they were driven out of their Knowledge, had work enough to find their way home, and sometimes never found it at all; but one Sea convey'd them directly into the last Ocean, from whence no Navigation cou'd return them.
When these, by Adventures, or Misadventures rather, had at any time extended their Voyaging as far as this Island, which, by the way, they always perform'd round the Coast of Spain, Portugal, and France; if ever such a Vessel return'd, if ever the bold Navigator arriv'd at home, he had done enough to talk on all his Days, and needed no other Diversion among his Neighbours, than to give an Account of the vast Seas, mighty Rocks, deep Gulfs, and prodigious Storms he met with in these remote Parts of the known World: and this, magnified by the Poetical Arts of the Learned Men of those times, grew into a receiv'd Maxim of Navigation, That these Parts were so full of constant Tempests, Storms, and dangerous Seas, that 'twas present Death to come near them, and none but Madmen and Desperadoes could have any Business there, since they were Places where Ships never came, and Navigation was not proper in the Place.
And Thule, where no Passage was
For Ships their Sails to bear.
Horace has reference to this horrid Part of the World, as a Place full of terrible Monsters, and fit only for their Habitation, in the Words before quoted.
Belluosus qui remotis
Obstrepit Oceanus Britannis.
Juvenal follows his Steps;
Quanto Delphino Balæna Britannica major.
Juv.
Such horrid Apprehensions those Ages had of these Parts, which by our Experience, and the Prodigy to which Navigation in particular, and Sciential Knowledge in general, is since grown, appear very ridiculous.
For we find no Danger in our Shores, no uncertain wavering in our Tides, no frightful Gulfs, no horrid Monsters, but what the bold Mariner has made familiar to him. The Gulfs which frighted those early Sons of Neptune are search'd out by our Seamen, and made useful Bays, Roads, and Harbours of Safety. The Promontories which running out into the Sea gave them terrible Apprehensions of Danger, are our Safety, and make the Sailors Hearts glad, as they are the first Lands they make when they are coming Home from a long Voyage, or as they are a good shelter when in a Storm our Ships get under their Lee.
Our Shores are sounded, the Sands and Flats are discovered, which they knew little or nothing of, and in which more real Danger lies, than in all the frightful Stories they told us; useful Sea-marks and Land-figures are plac'd on the Shore, Buoys on the Water, Light-houses on the highest Rocks; and all these dreadful Parts of the World are become the Seat of Trade, and the Centre of Navigation: Art has reconcil'd all the Difficulties, and Use made all the Horribles and Terribles of those Ages become as natural and familiar as Day-light.
The Hidden Sands, almost the only real Dread of a Sailor, and by which till the Channels between them were found out, our Eastern Coast must be really unpassable, now serve to make Harbours: and Yarmouth Road was made a safe Place for Shipping by them. Nay, when Portsmouth, Plymouth, and other good Harbours would not defend our Ships in the Violent Tempest we are treating of, here was the least Damage done of any Place in England, considering the Number of Ships which lay at Anchor, and the Openness of the Place.
So that upon the whole it seems plain to me, that all the dismal things the Ancients told us of Britain, and her terrible Shores, arose from the Infancy of Marine Knowledge, and the Weakness of the Sailor's Courage.
Not but that I readily allow we are more subject to bad Weather and hard Gales of Wind than the Coasts of Spain, Italy, and Barbary. But if this be allow'd, our Improvement in the Art of Building Ships is so considerable, our Vessels are so prepar'd to ride out the most violent Storms, that the Fury of the Sea is the least thing our Sailors fear: Keep them but from a Lee Shore, or touching upon a Sand, they'll venture all the rest: and nothing is a greater satisfaction to them, if they have a Storm in view, than a sound Bottom and good Sea-room.
From hence it comes to pass, that such Winds as in those Days wou'd have pass'd for Storms, are called only a Fresh-gale, or Blowing hard. If it blows enough to fright a South Country Sailor, we laugh at it: and if our Sailors bald Terms were set down in a Table of Degrees, it will explain what we mean.
| Stark Calm. | A Top-sail Gale. |
| Calm Weather. | Blows fresh. |
| Little Wind. | A hard Gale of Wind. |
| A fine Breeze. | A Fret of Wind. |
| A small Gale. | A Storm. |
| A fresh Gale. | A Tempest. |
Just half these Tarpawlin Articles, I presume, would have pass'd in those Days for a Storm; and that our Sailors call a Top-sail Gale would have drove the Navigators of those Ages into Harbours: when our Sailors reef a Top-sail, they would have handed all their Sails; and when we go under a main Course, they would have run afore it for Life to the next Port they could make: when our Hard Gale blows, they would have cried a Tempest; and about the Fret of Wind they would be all at their Prayers.
And if we should reckon by this Account we are a stormy Country indeed, our Seas are no more Navigable now for such Sailors than they were then: If the Japoneses, the East Indians, and such like Navigators, were to come with their thin Cockleshell Barks and Calico Sails; if Cleopatra's Fleet, or Cæsar's great Ships with which he fought the Battle of Actium, were to come upon our Seas, there hardly comes a March or a September in twenty Years but would blow them to Pieces, and then the poor Remnant that got Home, would go and talk of a terrible Country where there's nothing but Storms and Tempests; when all the Matter is, the Weakness of their Shipping, and the Ignorance of their Sea-men: and I make no question but our Ships ride out many a worse Storm than that terrible Tempest which scatter'd Julius Cæsar's Fleet, or the same that drove Æneas on the Coast of Carthage.
And in more modern times we have a famous Instance in the Spanish Armada; which, after it was rather frighted than damag'd by Sir Francis Drake's Machines, not then known by the Name of Fireships, were scatter'd by a terrible Storm, and lost upon every Shore.
The Case is plain, 'Twas all owing to the Accident of Navigation: They had, no doubt, a hard Gale of Wind, and perhaps a Storm; but they were also on an Enemy's Coast, their Pilots out of their Knowledge, no Harbour to run into, and an Enemy a-stern, that when once they separated, Fear drove them from one Danger to another, and away they went to the Northward, where they had nothing but God's Mercy, and the Winds and Seas to help them. In all those Storms and Distresses which ruin'd that Fleet, we do not find an Account of the Loss of one Ship, either of the English or Dutch; the Queen's Fleet rode it out in the Downs, which all Men know is none of the best Roads in the World; and the Dutch rode among the Flats of the Flemish Coast, while the vast Galleons, not so well fitted for the Weather, were forc'd to keep the Sea, and were driven to and fro till they had got out of their Knowledge; and like Men desperate, embrac'd every Danger they came near.
This long Digression I could not but think needful, in order to clear up the Case, having never met with any thing on this Head before: At the same time 'tis allow'd, and Histories are full of the Particulars, that we have often very high Winds, and sometimes violent Tempests in these Northen Parts of the World; but I am still of opinion, such a Tempest never happen'd before as that which is the Subject of these Sheets: and I refer the Reader to the Particulars.
CHAPTER III
Before we come to examine the Damage suffer'd by this terrible Night, and give a particular Relation of its dismal Effects; 'tis necessary to give a summary Account of the thing it self, with all its affrightning Circumstances.
It had blown exceeding hard, as I have already observ'd, for about fourteen Days past; and that so hard, that we thought it terrible Weather: Several Stacks of Chimnies were blown down, and several Ships were lost, and the Tiles in many Places were blown off from the Houses; and the nearer it came to the fatal 26th of November, the Tempestuousness of the Weather encreas'd.
On the Wednesday Morning before, being the 24th of November, it was fair Weather, and blew hard; but not so as to give any Apprehensions, till about 4 a Clock in the Afternoon the Wind encreased, and with Squauls of Rain and terrible Gusts blew very furiously.
The Collector of these Sheets narrowly escap'd the Mischief of a Part of a House, which fell on the Evening of that Day by the Violence of the Wind; and abundance of Tiles were blown off the Houses that Night: the Wind continued with unusual Violence all the next Day and Night; and had not the Great Storm follow'd so soon, this had pass'd for a great Wind.
On Friday Morning it continued to blow exceeding hard, but not so as that it gave any Apprehensions of Danger within Doors; towards Night it encreased: and about 10 a Clock, our Barometers inform'd us that the Night would be very tempestuous; the Mercury sunk lower than ever I had observ'd it on any Occasion whatsoever, which made me suppose the Tube had been handled and disturb'd by the Children.
But as my Observations of this Nature are not regular enough to supply the Reader with a full Information, the Disorders of that dreadful Night having found me other Imployment, expecting every Moment when the House I was in would bury us all in its own Ruins; I have therefore subjoin'd a Letter from an Ingenious Gentleman on this very Head, directed to the Royal Society, and printed in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 289. P. 1530. as follows.
A Letter from the Reverend Mr. William Derham, F.R.S. Containing his Observations concerning the late Storm.
SIR,
According to my Promise at the general Meeting of the R.S. on St. Andrews Day, I here send you inclos'd the Account of my Ingenious and Inquisitive Friend Richard Townely, Esq; concerning the State of the Atmosphere in that Part of Lancashire where he liveth, in the late dismal Storm. And I hope it will not be unaccepable, to accompany his with my own Observations at Upminster; especially since I shall not weary you with a long History of the Devastations, &c. but rather some Particulars of a more Philosophical Consideration.
And first, I do not think it improper to look back to the preceding Seasons of the Year. I scarce believe I shall go out of the way, to reflect as far back as April, May, June and July; because all these were wet Months in our Southern Parts. In April there fell 12,49 l. of Rain through my Tunnel: And about 6, 7, 8, or 9, l. I esteem a moderate quantity for Upminster. In May there fell more than in any Month of any Year since the Year 1696, viz. 20,77 l. June likewise was a dripping Month, in which fell 14,55 l. And July, although it had considerable Intermissions, yet had 14,19 l. above 11 l. of which fell on July 28th and 29th in violent Showers. And I remember the News Papers gave Accounts of great Rains that Month from divers Places of Europe; but the North of England (which also escaped the Violence of the late Storm) was not so remarkably wet in any of those Months; at least not in that great proportion more than we, as usually they are; as I guess from the Tables of Rain, with which Mr. Towneley hath favoured me. Particularly July was a dry Month with them, there being no more than 3,65 l. of Rain fell through Mr. Towneley's Tunnel of the same Diameter with mine.
From these Months let us pass to September, and that we shall find to have been a wet Month, especially the latter part of it; there fell of Rain in that Month, 14,86 l.
October and November last, although not remarkably wet, yet have been open warm Months for the most part. My Thermometer (whose freezing Point is about 84) hath been very seldom below 100 all this Winter, and especially in November.
Thus I have laid before you as short Account as I could of the preceding Disposition of the Year, particularly as to wet and warmth, because I am of opinion that these had a great Influence in the late Storm; not only in causing a Repletion of Vapours in the Atmosphere, but also in raising such Nitro-sulphureous or other heterogeneous matter, which when mix'd together might make a sort of Explosion (like fired Gun-powder) in the Atmosphere. And from this Explosion I judge those Corruscations or Flashes in the Storm to have proceeded, which most People as well as my self observed, and which some took for Lightning. But these things I leave to better Judgments, such as that very ingenious Member of our Society, who hath undertaken the Province of the late Tempest; to whom, if you please, you may impart these Papers; Mr. Halley you know I mean.
From Preliminaries it is time to proceed nearer to the Tempest it self. And the foregoing Day, viz. Thursday, Nov. 25. I think deserveth regard. In the Morning of that day was a little Rain, the Winds high in the Afternoon: S.b.E. and S. In the Evening there was Lightning; and between 9 and 10 of the Clock at Night, a violent, but short Storm of Wind, and much Rain at Upminster; and of Hail in some other Places, which did some Damage: There fell in that Storm 1,65 l. of Rain. The next Morning, which was Friday, Novem. 26. the Wind was S.S.W. and high all Day, and so continued till I was in Bed and asleep. About 12 that Night, the Storm awaken'd me, which gradually encreas'd till near 3 that Morning; and from thence till near 7 it continued in the greatest excess: and then began slowly to abate, and the Mercury to rise swiftly. The Barometer I found at 12 h. ½ P.M. at 28,72, where it continued till about 6 the next Morning, or 6¼, and then hastily rose; so that it was gotten to 82 about 8 of the Clock, as in the Table.
How the Wind sat during the late Storm I cannot positively say, it being excessively dark all the while, and my Vane blown down also, when I could have seen: But by Information from Millers, and others that were forc'd to venture abroad; and by my own guess, I imagin it to have blown about S.W. by S. or nearer to the S. in the beginning, and to veer about towards the West towards the End of the Storm, as far as W.S.W.
The degrees of the Wind's Strength being not measurable (that I know of, though talk'd of) but by guess, I thus determine, with respect to other Storms. On Feb. 7. 1698/9. was a terrible Storm that did much damage. This I number 10 degrees; the Wind then W.N.W. vid. Ph. Tr. No. 262. Another remarkable Storm was Feb. 3. 1701/2. at which time was the greatest descent of the ☿ ever known: This I number 9 degrees. But this last of November, I number at least 15 degrees.
As to the Stations of the Barometer, you have Mr. Towneley's and mine in the following Table to be seen at one View.
A Table shewing the Height of the Mercury in the Barometer, at Townely and Upminster, before, in, and after the Storm
Townely. Upminster. Day Hour Height of ☿ Day Hour Height of ☿ Novr. 25 7 28 98 Novr. 25 8 29 50 3 64 12 39 9½ 61 9 14 26 7 80 26 8 33 3 70 12 28 9 10 9⅛ 47 12½ 28 72 27 7 50 27 7½ 82 3 81 12 29 31 9½ 95 9 42 28 7 29 34 28 8 65 3 62 12 83 9 84 9 30 07 29 7 88 29 8 25 As to November 17th (whereon Mr. Towneley mentions a violent Storm in Oxfordshire) it was a Stormy Afternoon here at Upminster, accompanied with Rain, but not violent, nor ☿ very low. November 11th and 12th had both higher Winds and more Rain; and the ☿ was those Days lower than even in the last Storm of November 26th.
Thus, Sir, I have given you the truest Account I can, of what I thought most to deserve Observation, both before, and in the late Storm. I could have added some other particulars, but that I fear I have already made my Letter long, and am tedious. I shall therefore only add, that I have Accounts of the Violence of the Storm at Norwich, Beccles, Sudbury, Colchester, Rochford, and several other intermediate places; but I need not tell Particulars, because I question not but you have better Informations.
Thus far Mr. Derham's Letter.
| Townely. | Upminster. | ||||||
| Day | Hour | Height of ☿ | Day | Hour | Height of ☿ | ||
| Novr. 25 | 7 | 28 | 98 | Novr. 25 | 8 | 29 | 50 |
| 3 | 64 | 12 | 39 | ||||
| 9½ | 61 | 9 | 14 | ||||
| 26 | 7 | 80 | 26 | 8 | 33 | ||
| 3 | 70 | 12 | 28 | ||||
| 9 | 10 | ||||||
| 9⅛ | 47 | 12½ | 28 | 72 | |||
| 27 | 7 | 50 | 27 | 7½ | 82 | ||
| 3 | 81 | 12 | 29 | 31 | |||
| 9½ | 95 | 9 | 42 | ||||
| 28 | 7 | 29 | 34 | 28 | 8 | 65 | |
| 3 | 62 | 12 | 83 | ||||
| 9 | 84 | 9 | 30 | 07 | |||
| 29 | 7 | 88 | 29 | 8 | 25 | ||
It did not blow so hard till Twelve a Clock at Night, but that most Families went to Bed; though many of them not without some Concern at the terrible Wind, which then blew: But about One, or at least by Two a Clock, 'tis suppos'd, few People, that were capable of any Sense of Danger, were so hardy as to lie in Bed. And the Fury of the Tempest encreased to such a Degree, that as the Editor of this Account being in London, and conversing with the People the next Days, understood, most People expected the Fall of their Houses.
And yet in this general Apprehension, no body durst quit their tottering Habitations; for whatever the Danger was within doors, 'twas worse without; the Bricks, Tiles, and Stones, from the Tops of the Houses, flew with such force, and so thick in the Streets, that no one thought fit to venture out, tho' their Houses were near demolish'd within.
The Author of this Relation was in a well-built brick House in the skirts of the City; and a Stack of Chimneys falling in upon the next Houses, gave the House such a Shock, that they thought it was just coming down upon their Heads: but opening the Door to attempt an Escape into a Garden, the Danger was so apparent, that they all thought fit to surrender to the Disposal of Almighty Providence, and expect their Graves in the Ruins of the House, rather than to meet most certain Destruction in the open Garden: for unless they cou'd have gone above two hundred Yards from any Building, there had been no Security, for the Force of the Wind blew the Tiles point-blank, tho' their weight inclines them downward: and in several very broad Streets, we saw the Windows broken by the flying of Tile-sherds from the other side: and where there was room for them to fly, the Author of this has seen Tiles blown from a House above thirty or forty Yards, and stuck from five to eight Inches into the solid Earth. Pieces of Timber, Iron, and Sheets of Lead, have from higher Buildings been blown much farther; as in the Particulars hereafter will appear.
It is the receiv'd Opinion of abundance of People, that they felt, during the impetuous fury of the Wind, several Movements of the Earth; and we have several Letters which affirm it: But as an Earthquake must have been so general, that every body must have discern'd it; and as the People were in their Houses when they imagin'd they felt it, the Shaking and Terror of which might deceive their Imagination, and impose upon their Judgment; I shall not venture to affirm it was so: And being resolv'd to use so much Caution in this Relation as to transmit nothing to Posterity without authentick Vouchers, and such Testimony as no reasonable Man will dispute; so if any Relation come in our way, which may afford us a Probability, tho' it may be related for the sake of its Strangeness or Novelty, it shall nevertheless come in the Company of all its Uncertainties, and the Reader left to judge of its Truth: for this Account had not been undertaken, but with design to undeceive the World in false Relations, and to give an Account back'd with such Authorities, as that the Credit of it shou'd admit of no Disputes.
For this reason I cannot venture to affirm that there was any such thing as an Earthquake; but the Concern and Consternation of all People was so great, that I cannot wonder at their imagining several things which were not, any more than their enlarging on things that were, since nothing is more frequent, than for Fear to double every Object, and impose upon the Understanding, strong Apprehensions being apt very often to perswade us of the Reality of such things which we have no other reasons to shew for the probability of, than what are grounded in those Fears which prevail at that juncture.
Others thought they heard it thunder. 'Tis confess'd, the Wind by its unusual Violence made such a noise in the Air as had a resemblance to Thunder; and 'twas observ'd, the roaring had a Voice as much louder than usual, as the Fury of the Wind was greater than was ever known: the Noise had also something in it more formidable; it sounded aloft, and roar'd not very much unlike remote Thunder.
And yet tho' I cannot remember to have heard it thunder, or that I saw any Lightning, or heard of any that did in or near London; yet in the Counties the Air was seen full of Meteors and vaporous Fires: and in some places both Thundrings and unusual Flashes of Lightning, to the great terror of the Inhabitants.
And yet I cannot but observe here, how fearless such People as are addicted to Wickedness, are both of God's Judgments and uncommon Prodigies; which is visible in this Particular, That a Gang of hardned Rogues assaulted a Family at Poplar, in the very Height of the Storm, broke into the House, and robb'd them: it is observable, that the People cryed Thieves, and after that cryed Fire, in hopes to raise the Neighbourhood, and to get some Assistance; but such is the Power of Self-Preservation, and such was the Fear, the Minds of the People were possess'd with, that no Body would venture out to the Assistance of the distressed Family, who were rifled and plundered in the middle of all the Extremity of the Tempest.
It would admit of a large Comment here, and perhaps not very unprofitable, to examine from what sad Defect in Principle it must be that Men can be so destitute of all manner of Regard to invisible and superiour Power, to be acting one of the vilest Parts of a Villain, while infinite Power was threatning the whole World with Disolation, and Multitudes of People expected the Last Day was at Hand.
Several Women in the City of London who were in Travail, or who fell into Travail by the Fright of the Storm, were oblig'd to run the risque of being delivered with such Help as they had; and Midwives found their own Lives in such Danger, that few of them thought themselves oblig'd to shew any Concern for the Lives of others.
Fire was the only Mischief that did not happen to make the Night compleatly dreadful; and yet that was not so every where, for in Norfolk the Town of —— was almost ruin'd by a furious Fire, which burnt with such Vehemence, and was so fann'd by the Tempest, that the Inhabitants had no Power to concern themselves in the extinguishing it; the Wind blew the Flames, together with the Ruines, so about, that there was no standing near it; for if the People came to Windward they were in Danger to be blown into the Flames; and if to Leeward the Flames were so blown up in their Faces, they could not bear to come near it.
If this Disaster had happen'd in London, it must have been very fatal; for as no regular Application could have been made for the extinguishing it, so the very People in Danger would have had no Opportunity to have sav'd their Goods, and hardly their Lives: for though a Man will run any Risque to avoid being burnt, yet it must have been next to a Miracle, if any Person so oblig'd to escape from the Flames had escap'd being knock'd on the Head in the Streets; for the Bricks and Tiles flew about like small Shot; and 'twas a miserable Sight, in the Morning after the Storm, to see the Streets covered with Tyle-sherds, and Heaps of Rubbish, from the Tops of the Houses, lying almost at every Door.
From Two of the Clock the Storm continued, and encreased till Five in the Morning; and from Five, to half an Hour after Six, it blew with the greatest Violence: the Fury of it was so exceeding great for that particular Hour and half, that if it had not abated as it did, nothing could have stood its Violence much longer.
In this last Part of the Time the greatest Part of the Damage was done: Several Ships that rode it out till now, gave up all; for no Anchor could hold. Even the Ships in the River of Thames were all blown away from their Moorings, and from Execution-Dock to Lime-House Hole there was but our Ships that rid it out, the rest were driven down into the Bite, as the Sailors call it, from Bell-Wharf to Lime-House; where they were huddeld together and drove on Shore, Heads and Sterns, one upon another, in such a manner, as any one would have thought it had been impossible: and the Damage done on that Account was incredible.
Together with the Violence of the Wind, the Darkness of the Night added to the Terror of it; and as it was just New Moon, the Spring Tides being then up at about Four a Clock, made the Vessels, which were a-float in the River, drive the farther up upon the Shore: of all which, in the Process of this Story, we shall find very strange Instances.
The Points from whence the Wind blew, are variously reported from various Hands: 'Tis certain, it blew all the Day before at S.W. and I thought it continued so till about Two a Clock; when, as near as I could judge by the Impressions it made on the House, for we durst not look out, it veer'd to the S.S.W. then to the W. and about Six a Clock to W. by N. and still the more Northward it shifted, the harder it blew, till it shifted again Southerly about Seven a Clock; and as it did so, it gradually abated.
About Eight a Clock in the Morning it ceased so much, that our Fears were also abated, and People began to peep out of Doors; but 'tis impossible to express the Concern that appear'd in every Place: the Distraction and Fury of the Night was visible in the Faces of the People, and every Body's first Work was to visit and enquire after Friends and Relations. The next Day or Two was almost entirely spent in the Curiosity of the People, in viewing the Havock the Storm had made, which was so universal in London, and especially in the Out-Parts, that nothing can be said sufficient to describe it.
Another unhappy Circumstance with which this Disaster was join'd, was a prodigious Tide, which happen'd the next Day but one, and was occasion'd by the Fury of the Winds: which is also a Demonstration, that the Winds veer'd for Part of the Time to the Northward: and as it is observable, and known by all that understand our Sea Affairs, that a North West Wind makes the Highest Tide, so this blowing to the Northward, and that with such unusual Violence, brought up the Sea raging in such a manner, that in some Parts of England 'twas incredible, the Water rising Six or Eight Foot higher than it was ever known to do in the Memory of Man; by which Ships were fleeted up upon the firm Land several Rods off from the Banks, and an incredible Number of Cattle and People drown'd; as in the Pursuit of this Story will appear.
It was a special Providence that so directed the Waters, that in the River of Thames, the Tide, though it rise higher than usual, yet it did not so prodigiously exceed; but the Height of them as it was, prov'd very prejudicial to abundance of People whose Cellars and Ware-houses were near the River; and had the Water risen a Foot higher, all the Marshes and Levels on both sides the River had been over-flowed, and a great part of the Cattle drowned.
Though the Storm abated with the rising of the Sun, it still blew exceeding hard; so hard, that no Boats durst stir out on the River, but on extraordinary Occasions: and about Three a Clock in the Afternoon, the next Day being Saturday, it increas'd again, and we were in a fresh Consternation, lest it should return with the same Violence. At Four it blew an extreme Storm, with Sudden Gusts as violent as any time of the Night; but as it came with a great black Cloud, and some Thunder, it brought a hasty Shower of Rain which allay'd the Storm: so that in a quarter of an Hour it went off, and only continued blowing as before.
This sort of Weather held all Sabbath-Day and Monday, till on Tuesday Afternoon it encreased again; and all Tuesday Night it blew with such Fury, that many Families were afraid to go to Bed: And had not the former terrible Night harden'd the People to all things less than it self, this Night would have pass'd for a Storm fit to have been noted in our Almanacks. Several Stacks of Chimneys that stood out the great Storm, were blown down in this; several Ships which escap'd in the great Storm, perish'd this Night; and several People who had repair'd their Houses, had them untiled again. Not but that I may allow those Chimneys that fell now might have been disabled before.
At this Rate it held blowing till Wednesday about One a Clock in the Afternoon, which was that Day Seven-night on which it began; so that it might be called one continued Storm from Wednesday Noon to Wednesday Noon: in all which time, there was not one Interval of Time in which a Sailor would not have acknowledged it blew a Storm; and in that time two such terrible Nights as I have describ'd.
And this I particularly noted as to Time, Wednesday, Nov. the 24th was a calm fine Day as at that time of Year shall be seen; till above Four a Clock, when it began to be Cloudy, and the Wind rose of a sudden, and in half an Hours Time it blew a Storm. Wednesday, Dec. the 2d. it was very tempestuous all the Morning; at One a Clock the Wind abated, the Sky clear'd, and by Four a Clock there was not a Breath of Wind.
Thus ended the Greatest and the Longest Storm that ever the World saw. The Effects of this terrible Providence are the Subject of the ensuing Chapter; and I close this with a Pastoral Poem sent us among the Accounts of the Storm from a very ingenious Author, and desir'd to be publish'd in this Account.
A PASTORAL, Occasion'd by the Late Violent Storm
Damon, Melibæus.
DAM.
MEL.
DAM.
MEL.
DAM.
MEL.
CHAPTER IV
Of the Extent of this Storm, and from what Parts it was suppos'd to come; with some Circumstances as to the Time of it
As all our Histories are full of the Relations of Tempests and Storms which have happened in various Parts of the World, I hope it may not be improper that some of them have been thus observ'd with their remarkable Effects.
But as I have all along insisted, that no Storm since the Universal Deluge was like this, either in its Violence or its Duration, so I must also confirm it as to the particular of its prodigious Extent.
All the Storms and Tempests we have heard of in the World, have been Gusts or Squauls of Wind that have been carried on in their proper Channels, and have spent their Force in a shorter space.
We feel nothing here of the Hurricanes of Barbadoes, the North-Wests of New England and Virginia, the terrible Gusts of the Levant, or the frequent Tempests of the North Cape. When Sir Francis Wheeler's Squadron perish'd at Gibralter, when the City of Straelsond was almost ruin'd by a Storm, England felt it not, nor was the Air here disturb'd with the Motion. Even at home we have had Storms of violent Wind in one part of England which have not been felt in another. And if what I have been told has any truth in it, in St. George's Channel there has frequently blown a Storm at Sea right up and down the Channel, which has been felt on neither Coast, tho it is not above 20 Leagues from the English to the Irish Shore.
Sir William Temple gives us the Particulars of two terrible Storms in Holland while he was there; in one of which the great Cathedral Church at Utrecht was utterly destroy'd: and after that there was a Storm so violent in Holland, that 46 Vessels were cast away at the Texel, and almost all the Men drowned: and yet we felt none of these Storms here.
And for this very reason I have reserv'd an Abridgment of these former Cases to this place; which as they are recited by Sir William Temple, I shall put them down in his own Words, being not capable to mend them, and not vain enough to pretend to it.
'I stay'd only a Night at Antwerp, which pass'd with so great Thunders and Lightnings, that I promis'd my self a very fair Day after it, to go back to Rotterdam in the States Yacht, that still attended me. The Morning prov'd so; but towards Evening the Sky grew foul, and the Sea men presag'd ill Weather, and so resolved to lie at Anchor before Bergen ap Zoom, the Wind being cross and little. When the Night was fallen as black as ever I saw, it soon began to clear up, with the most violent Flashes of Lightning as well as Cracks of Thunder, that I believe have ever been heard in our Age and Climate. This continued all Night; and we felt such a fierce Heat from every great Flash of Lightning, that the Captain apprehended it would fire his Ship. But about 8 the next Morning the Wind changed, and came up with so strong a Gale, that we came to Rotterdam in about 4 Hours, and there found all Mouths full of the Mischiefs and Accidents that the last Night's Tempest had occasioned both among the Boats and the Houses, by the Thunder, Lightning, Hail, or Whirlwinds. But the Day after came Stories to the Hague from all Parts, of such violent Effects as were almost incredible: At Amsterdam they were deplorable, many Trees torn up by the Roots, Ships sunk in the Harbour, and Boats in the Channels; Houses beaten down, and several People were snatch'd from the Ground as they walk'd the Streets, and thrown into the Canals. But all was silenc'd by the Relations from Utrecht, where the Great and Ancient Cathedral was torn in pieces by the Violences of this Storm; and the vast Pillars of Stone that supported it, were wreathed like a twisted Club, having been so strongly compos'd and cimented, as rather to suffer such a Change of Figure than break in pieces, as other Parts of the Fabrick did; hardly any Church in the Town escap'd the Violence of this Storm; and very few Houses without the Marks of it; Nor were the Effects of it less astonishing by the Relations from France and Brussels, where the Damages were infinite, as well from Whirlwinds, Thunder, Lightning, as from Hail-stones of prodigious Bigness. This was in the Year 1674.
'In November, 1675, happen'd a Storm at North-West, with a Spring-tide, so violent, as gave apprehensions of some loss irrecoverable to the Province of Holland, and by several breaches in the great Diques near Enchusen, and others between Amsterdam and Harlem, made way for such Inundations as had not been seen before by any man then alive, and fill'd the Country with many relations of most deplorable Events. But the incredible Diligence and unanimous Endeavours of the People upon such occasions, gave a stop to the Fury of that Element, and made way for recovering next Year all the Lands, though not the People, Cattel, and Houses that had been lost.'
Thus far Sir William Temple.
I am also credibly inform'd that the greatest Storm that ever we had in England before, and which was as universal here as this, did no Damage in Holland or France, comparable to this Tempest: I mean the great Wind in 1661. An Abstract of which, as it was printed in Mirabilis Annis, an unknown, but unquestion'd Author, take as follows, in his own Words.
A dreadful Storm of Wind, accompanied with Thunder, Lightning, Hail and Rain; together with the sad Effects of it in many Parts of the Nation.
Upon the 18th of February, 1661, being Tuesday, very early in the Morning, there began a very great and dreadful Storm of Wind (accompanied with Thunder, Lightning, Hail, and Rain, which in many Places were as salt as Brine) which continued with a strange and unusual Violence till almost Night: the sad Effects whereof throughout the Nation are so many, that a very great Volume is not sufficient to contain the Narrative of them. And indeed some of them are so stupendious and amazing, that the Report of them, though from never so authentick Hands, will scarce gain Credit among any but those that have an affectionate Sense of the unlimited Power of the Almighty, knowing and believing that there is nothing too hard for Him to do.
Some few of which wonderful Effects we shall give a brief Account of, as we have received them from Persons of most unquestionable Credit in the several Parts of the Nation.
In the City of London, and in Covent Garden and other Parts about London and Westminster, five or six Persons were killed outright by the Fall of Houses and Chimneys; especially one Mr. Luke Blith an Attorney, that lived at or near Stamford in the County of Lincoln, was killed that Day by the fall of a Riding-House not far from Pickadilla: and there are some very remarkable Circumstances in this Man's Case, which do make his Death to appear at least like a most eminent Judgment and severe Stroak of the Lord's Hand upon him.
From other Parts likewise we have received certain Information, that divers Persons were killed by the Effects of this great Wind.
At Chiltenham in Gloucestershire, a Maid was killed by the Fall of a Tree, in or near the Church-Yard.
An honest Yeoman likewise of Scaldwel in Northamptonshire, being upon a Ladder to save his Hovel, was blown off, and fell upon a Plough, died outright, and never spoke Word more.
Also at Tewksbury in Gloucestershire, a Man was blown from an House, and broken to Pieces.
At Elsbury likewise in the same County, a Woman was killed by the Fall of Tiles or Bricks from an House.
And not far from the same Place, a Girl was killed by the Fall of a Tree.
Near Northampton, a Man was killed by the Fall of a great Barn.
Near Colchester, a Young-man was killed by the Fall of a Wind-mill.
Not far from Ipswich in Suffolk, a Man was killed by the Fall of a Barn.
And about two Miles from the said Town of Ipswich, a Man was killed by the Fall of a Tree.
At Langton, or near to it, in the County of Leicester, one Mr. Roberts had a Wind-mill blown down, in which were three Men; and by the Fall of it, one of them was killed outright, a second had his Back broken, and the other had his Arm or Leg struck off; and both of them (according to our best Information) are since dead.
Several other Instances there are of the like Nature; but it would be too tedious to mention them: Let these therefore suffice to stir us up to Repentance, lest we likewise perish.
There are also many Effects of this Storm which are of another Nature, whereof we shall give this following brief Account.
The Wind hath very much prejudiced many Churches in several Parts of the Nation.
At Tewksbury in Gloucestershire, it blew down a very fair Window belonging to the Church there, both the Glass, and the Stone-work also; the Doors likewise of that Church were blown open, much of the Lead torn up, and some Part of a fair Pinnacle thrown down.
Also at Red-Marly and Newin, not far from Tewksbury, their Churches are extreamly broken and shatter'd, if not a considerable part of them blown down. The like was done to most, if not all the Publick Meeting-places at Gloucester City. And it is reported, that some Hundreds of Pounds will not suffice to repair the Damage done to the Cathedral at Worcester, especially in that Part that is over the Quire.
The like Fate happen'd to many more of them, as Hereford, and Leighton Beau-desart in Bedfordshire, and Eaton-Soken in the same County; where they had newly erected a very fair Cross of Stone, which the Wind blew down: and, as some of the Inhabitants did observe, that was the first Damage which that Town sustained by the Storm, though afterwards in other respects also they were in the same Condition with their Neighbours. The Steeples also, and other Parts of the Churches of Shenley, Waddon, and Woolston in the County of Bucks, have been very much rent and torn by the Wind. The Spire of Finchinfield Steeple in the County of Essex, was blown down, and it brake through the Body of the Church, and spoil'd many of the Pews; some Hundreds of Pounds will not repair that Loss. But that which is most remarkable of this kind, is, the Fall of that most famous Spire, or Pinnacle of the Tower-Church in Ipswich: it was blown down upon the Body of the Church, and fell reversed, the sharp End of the Shaft striking through the Leads on the South-side of the Church, carried much of the Timber-work down before it into the Alley just behind the Pulpit, and took off one Side of the Sounding-board over the Pulpit: it shattered many Pews: The Weather-Cock, and the Iron upon which it stood, broke off as it fell; but the narrowest Part of the Wood-work, upon which the Fane stood, fell into the Alley, broke quite through a Grave-stone, and ran shoring under two Coffins that had been placed there one on another; that Part of the Spire which was pluck'd up was about three Yards deep in the Earth, and it is believed some Part of it is yet behind in the Ground: some Hundreds of Pounds will not make good the Detriment done to the Church by the Fall of this Pinnacle.
Very great Prejudice has been done to private Houses; many of them blown down, and others extreamly shattered and torn. It is thought that five thousand Pounds will not make good the Repairs at Audley-End House, which belongs to the Earl of Suffolk. A good Part also of the Crown-Office in the Temple is blown down. The Instances of this kind are so many and so obvious, that it would needlesly take up too much time to give the Reader an Account of the Collection of them; only there has been such a wonderful Destruction of Barns, that (looking so much like a Judgment from the Lord, who the last Year took away our Corn, and this our Barns) we cannot but give a short Account of some Part of that Intelligence which hath come to our Hands of that Nature.
A Gentleman, of good Account, in Ipswich, affirms, that in a few Miles riding that Day, there was eleven Barns and Out-houses blown down in the Road within his View; and within a very few Miles of Ipswich round about, above thirty Barns, and many of them with Corn in them, were blown down. At Southold not far from the Place before mentioned, many new Houses and Barns (built since a late Fire that happened there) are blown down; as also a Salt-house is destroyed there: and a thousand Pounds, as it is believed, will not make up that particular Loss.
From Tewksbury it is certified, that an incredible Number of Barns have been blown down in the small Towns and Villages thereabouts. At Twyning, at least eleven Barns are blown down. In Ashchurch Parish seven or eight. At Lee, five. At Norton, a very great Number, three whereof belonging to one Man. The great Abby-Barn also at Tewksbury is blown down.
It is credibly reported, that within a very few Miles Circumference in Worcestershire, about an hundred and forty Barns are blown down. At Finchinfield in Essex, which is but an ordinary Village, about sixteen Barns were blown down. Also at a Town called Wilchamsted in the County of Bedford (a very small Village) fifteen Barns at least are blown down. But especially the Parsonage Barns went to wrack in many Places throughout the Land: In a few Miles Compass in Bedfordshire, and so in Northamptonshire, and other Places, eight, ten, and twelve are blown down; and at Yielding Parsonage in the County of Bedford (out of which was thrust by Oppression and Violence the late Incumbent) all the Barns belonging to it are down. The Instances also of this kind are innumerable, which we shall therefore forbear to make further mention of.
We have also a large Account of the blowing down of a very great and considerable Number of Fruit-Trees, and other Trees in several Parts; we shall only pick out two or three Passages which are the most remarkable. In the Counties of Gloucester, Hereford, and Worcester, several Persons have lost whole Orchards of Fruit-Trees; and many particular Mens Loss hath amounted to the Value of forty or fifty Pounds at the least, meerly by Destruction of their Fruit-Trees: and so in other Parts of England proportionably the like Damage hath been sustained in this Respect. And as for other Trees, there has been a great Destruction made of them in many Places, by this Storm. Several were blown down at Hampton-Court. And three thousand brave Oaks at least, but in one principal Part of the Forest of Dean, belonging to his Majesty. In a little Grove at Ipswich, belonging to the Lord of Hereford (which together with the Spire of the Steeple before-mentioned, were the most considerable Ornaments of that Town) are blown down at least two hundred goodly Trees, one of which was an Ash, which had ten Load of Wood upon it: there are now few Trees left there.
In Bramton Bryan Park in the County of Hereford, belonging to Sir Edward Harly, one of the late Knights of the Bath, above thirteen hundred Trees are blown down; and above six hundred in Hopton Park not far from it: and thus it is proportionably in most Places where this Storm was felt. And the Truth is, the Damage which the People of this Nation have sustained upon all Accounts by this Storm, is not easily to be valued: some sober and discreet People, who have endeavoured to compute the Loss of the several Counties one with another, by the Destruction of Houses and Barns, the blowing away of Hovels and Ricks of Corn, the falling of Trees, &c. do believe it can come to little less than two Millions of Money.
There are yet behind many Particulars of a distinct Nature from those that have been spoken of; some whereof are very wonderful, and call for a very serious Observation of them.
In the Cities of London and Westminster, especially on the Bridge and near Wallingford-house, several Persons were blown down one on the Top of another.
In Hertfordshire, a Man was taken up, carried a Pole in Length, and blown over a very high Hedge; and the like in other Places.
The Water in the River of Thames, and other Places, was in a very strange manner blown up into the Air: Yea, in the new Pond in James's Park, the Fish, to the Number of at least two Hundred, where blown out and lay by the Bank-side, whereof many were Eye-witnesses.
At Moreclack in Surry, the Birds, as they attempted to fly, were beaten down to the Ground by the Violence of the Wind.
At Epping in the County of Essex, a very great Oak was blown down, which of it self was raised again, and doth grow firmly at this Day.
At Taunton, a great Tree was blown down, the upper Part whereof rested upon a Brick or Stone-wall, and after a little time, by the force of the Wind, the lower part of the Tree was blown quite over the Wall.
In the City of Hereford, several persons were, by the Violence of the Wind, borne up from the Ground; one Man (as it is credibly reported) at least six Yards.
The great Fane at Whitehall was blown down; and one of the four which were upon the white Tower, and two more of them strangely bent; which are to be seen at this Day, to the Admiration of all that behold them.
The several Triumphant Arches in the City of London were much shattered and torn; That in Leaden-hall-Street lost the King's Arms, and many other rare Pieces that were affixed to it; That in Cheapside, which represented the Church, suffered very much by the Fury of the Storm; and a great Part of that in Fleet Street (which represented Plenty) was blown down: but, blessed be God, none as we hear of were either killed or hurt by the Fall of it.
The Wind was so strong, that it blew down several Carts loaded with Hay in the Road between Barnet and London; and in other Roads leading to the City of London.
Norwich Coach, with four or six Horses, was not able to come towards London, but stayed by the way till the Storm was somewhat abated.
It is also credibly reported, That all, or some of the Heads which were set up upon Westminster-Hall, were that Day blown down.
There was a very dreadful Lightning which did at first accompany the Storm, and by it some of his Majesty's Houshold conceive that the Fire which happened at Whitehall that Morning, was kindled; as also that at Greenwich, by which (as we are informed) seven or eight Houses were burnt down.
Thus far the Author of Mirabilis Annis.
'Tis very observable, that this Storm blew from the same Quarter as the last, and that they had less of it Northward than here; in which they were much alike.
Now as these Storms were perhaps very furious in some Places, yet they neither came up to the Violence of this, nor any way to be compar'd for the Extent, and when ruinous in one County, were hardly heard of in the next.
But this terrible Night shook all Europe; and how much farther it extended, he only knows who has his way in the Whirlwind, and in the Storm, and the Clouds are the Dust of his Feet.
As this Storm was first felt from the West, some have conjectur'd that the first Generation or rather Collection of Materials, was from the Continent of America, possibly from that part of Florida and Virginia where, if we respect natural Causes, the Confluence of Vapours rais'd by the Sun from the vast and unknown Lakes and Inland Seas of Water, which as some relate are incredibly large as well as numerous, might afford sufficient Matter for the Exhalation; and where time adding to the Preparation, God, who has generally confin'd his Providence to the Chain of natural Causes, might muster together those Troops of Combustion till they made a sufficient Army duly proportion'd to the Expedition design'd.
I am the rather inclin'd to this Opinion, because we are told, they felt upon that Coast an unusual Tempest a few Days before the fatal 27th of November.
I confess, I have never studied the Motion of the Clouds so nicely, as to calculate how long time this Army of Terror might take up in its furious March; possibly the Velocity of its Motion might not be so great at its first setting out as it was afterward, as a Horse that is to run a Race does not immediately put himself into the height of his Speed: and tho' it may be true, that by the length of the way the force of the Wind spends it self, and so by degrees ceases as the Vapour finds more room for Dilation; besides, yet we may suppose a Conjunction of some confederate Matter which might fall in with it by the way, or which meeting it at its Arrival here, might join Forces in executing the Commission receiv'd from above, all natural Causes being allow'd a Subserviency to the Direction of the great supream Cause; yet where the vast Collection of Matter had its first Motion, as it did not all take Motion in one and the same moment, so when all the Parts had felt the Influence, as they advanc'd and press'd those before them, the Violence must increase in proportion: and thus we may conceive that the Motion might not have arriv'd at its Meridian Violence till it reach'd our Island; and even then it blew some Days with more than common fury, yet much less than that last Night of its force; and even that Night the Violence was not at its extremity till about an hour before Sun-rise, and then it continued declining, tho' it blew a full Storm for four Days after it.
Thus Providence, by whose special Direction the Quantity and Conduct of this Judgment was manag'd, seem'd to proportion things so, as that by the course of things the proportion of Matter being suited to Distance of Place, the Motion shou'd arrive at its full Force just at the Place where its Execution was to begin.
As then our Island was the first, this way, to receive the Impressions of the violent Motion, it had the terriblest Effects here; and continuing its steady Course, we find it carried a true Line clear over the Continent of Europe, travers'd England, France, Germany, the Baltick Sea, and passing the Northern Continent of Sweedland, Finland, Muscovy, and part of Tartary, must at last lose it self in the vast Northern Ocean, where Man never came, and Ship never sail'd; and its Violence cou'd have no effect, but upon the vast Mountains of Ice and the huge Drifts of Snow, in which Abyss of Moisture and Cold it is very probable the Force of it was check'd, and the World restor'd to Calmness and Quiet: and in this Circle of Fury it might find its End not far off from where it had its Beginning, the Fierceness of the Motion perhaps not arriving to a Period, till having pass'd the Pole, it reached again the Northern Parts of America.
The Effects of this impetuous Course, are the proper Subjects of this Book; and what they might be before our Island felt its Fury, who can tell? Those unhappy Wretches who had the misfortune to meet it in its first Approach, can tell us little, having been hurried by its irresistible Force directly into Eternity: how many they are, we cannot pretend to give an Account; we are told of about seventeen Ships, which having been out at Sea are never heard of: which is the common way of Discourse of Ships founder'd in the Ocean: and indeed all we can say of them is, the fearful Exit they have made among the Mountains of Waters, can only be duly reflected on by those who have seen those Wonders of God in the Deep.
Yet I cannot omit here to observe, That this Loss was in all probability much less than it would otherwise have been; because the Winds having blown with very great Fury, at the same Point, for near fourteen Days before the Violence grew to its more uncommon height, all those Ships which were newly gone to Sea were forc'd back, of which some were driven into Plymouth and Falmouth who had been above a hundred and fifty Leagues at Sea; others, which had been farther, took Sanctuary in Ireland.
On the other hand, All those Ships which were homeward bound, and were within 500 Leagues of the English Shore, had been hurried so furiously on afore it (as the Seamen say) that they had reach'd their Port before the Extremity of the Storm came on; so that the Sea was as it were swept clean of all Shipping, those which were coming home were blown home before their time; those that had attempted to put to Sea, were driven back again in spight of all their Skill and Courage: for the Wind had blown so very hard, directly into the Channel, that there was no possibility of their keeping the Sea whose Course was not right afore the Wind.
On the other hand, these two Circumstances had fill'd all our Ports with unusual Fleets of Ships, either just come home or outward-bound, and consequently the Loss among them was very terrible; and the Havock it made among them, tho' it was not so much as every body expected, was such as no Age or Circumstance can ever parallel, and we hope will never feel again.
Nay, so high the Winds blew even before that we call the Storm, that had not that intolerable Tempest follow'd so soon after, we should have counted those Winds extraordinary high: and any one may judge of the Truth of this from these few Particulars; That the Russia Fleet, compos'd of near a hundred Sail, which happen'd to be then upon the Coast, was absolutely dispers'd and scatter'd, some got into Newcastle, some into Hull, and some into Yarmouth Roads; two founder'd in the Sea; one or two more run a-shore, and were lost; and the Reserve Frigat, their Convoy, founder'd in Yarmouth Roads, all her Men being lost, and no Boat from the Shore durst go off to relieve her, tho' it was in the Day-time, but all her Men perished.
In the same previous Storms the—Man of War was lost off of Harwich; but by the help of smaller Vessels most of her Men were sav'd.
And so high the Winds blew for near a Fortnight, that no Ship stirr'd out of Harbour; and all the Vessels, great or small, that were out at Sea, made for some Port or other for shelter.
In this juncture of time it happen'd, that together with the Russia Fleet, a great Fleet of Laden Colliers, near 400 Sail, were just put out of the River Tine: and these being generally deep and unweildy Ships, met with hard measure, tho' not so fatal to them as was expected: such of them as could run in for Humber, where a great many were lost afterwards, as I shall relate in its course; some got shelter under the high Lands of Cromer and the Northern Shores of the County of Norfolk, and the greater number reach'd into Yarmouth Roads.
So that when the Great Storm came, our Ports round the Sea-Coast of England were exceeding full of Ships of all sorts: a brief account whereof take as follows.
At Grimsby, Hull, and the other Roads of the Humber, lay about 80 Sail, great and small, of which about 50 were Colliers, and part of the Russia Fleet as aforesaid.
In Yarmouth Roads there rode at least 400 Sail, being most of them Laden Colliers, Russia Men, and Coasters from Lynn and Hull.
In the River of Thames, at the Nore, lay about 12 Sail of the Queen's hir'd Ships and Store-ships, and only two Men of War.
Sir Cloudsly Shovel was just arriv'd from the Mediterranean with the Royal Navy: Part of them lay at St. Hellens, part in the Downs, and with 12 of the biggest Ships he was coming round the Foreland to bring them into Chatham; and when the Great Storm began was at an Anchor at the Gunfleet, from whence the Association was driven off from Sea as far as the Coast of Norway: What became of the rest, I refer to a Chapter by it self.
At Gravesend there rode five East India Men, and about 30 Sail of other Merchant-men, all outward bound.
In the Downs 160 Sail of Merchant Ships outward bound, besides that part of the Fleet which came in with Sir Cloudsly Shovel, which consisted of about 18 Men of War, with Tenders and Victuallers.
At Portsmouth and Cowes there lay three Fleets; first, a Fleet of Transports and Tenders, who with Admiral Dilks brought the Forces from Ireland that were to accompany the King of Spain to Lisbon; secondly, a great Fleet of Victuallers, Tenders, Store-ships, and Transports, which lay ready for the same Voyage, together with about 40 Merchant-ships, who lay for the benefit of their Convoy; and the third Article was, the Remainder of the Grand Fleet which came in with Sir Cloudsly Shovel; in all almost 300 Sail, great and small.
In Plymouth Sound, Falmouth and Milford Havens, were particularly several small Fleets of Merchant-ships, driven in for Shelter and Harbour from the Storm, most homeward bound from the Islands and Colonies of America.
The Virginia Fleet, Barbadoes Fleet, and some East India Men, lay scatter'd in all our Ports, and in Kinsale in Ireland there lay near 80 Sail, homeward bound and richly laden.
At Bristol about 20 Sail of home-bound West India Men, not yet unladen.
In Holland, the Fleet of Transports for Lisbon waited for the King of Spain, and several English Men of War lay at Helvoet Sluice; the Dutch Fleet from the Texel lay off of Cadsandt, with their Forces on Board, under the Admiral Callenberge. Both these Fleets made 180 Sail.
I think I may very safely affirm, That hardly in the Memory of the oldest Man living, was a juncture of Time when an Accident of this nature could have happen'd, that so much Shipping, laden out and home, ever was in Port at one time.
No Man will wonder that the Damages to this Nation were so great, if they consider these unhappy Circumstances: it shou'd rather be wonder'd at, that we have no more Disasters to account to Posterity, but that the Navigation of this Country came off so well.
And therefore some People have excus'd the Extravagancies of the Paris Gazetteer, who affirm'd in Print, that there was 30000 Sea-men lost in the several Ports of England, and 300 Sail of Ships; which they say was a probable Conjecture; and that considering the multitude of Shipping, the Openness of the Roads in the Downs, Yarmouth, and the Nore, and the prodigious Fury of the Wind, any Man would have guess'd the same as he.
'Tis certain, It is a thing wonderful to consider, that especially in the Downs and Yarmouth Roads any thing shou'd be safe: all Men that know how wild a Road the first is, and what Crowds of Ships there lay in the last; how almost every thing quitted the Road, and neither Anchor nor Cable would hold; must wonder what Shift or what Course the Mariners could direct themselves to for Safety.
Some which had not a Mast standing, nor an Anchor or Cable left them, went out to Sea wherever the Winds drove them; and lying like a Trough in the Water, wallow'd about till the Winds abated; and after were driven, some into one Port, some into another, as Providence guided them.
In short, Horror and Confusion seiz'd upon all, whether on Shore or at Sea: No Pen can describe it, no Tongue can express it, no Thought conceive it, unless some of those who were in the Extremity of it; and who, being touch'd with a due sense of the sparing Mercy of their Maker, retain the deep Impressions of his Goodness upon their Minds, tho' the Danger be past: and of those I doubt the Number is but few.
OF THE EFFECTS OF THE STORM
The particular dreadful Effects of this Tempest, are the Subject of the ensuing Part of this History: And tho' the Reader is not to expect that all the Particulars can be put into this Account, and perhaps many very remarkable Passages may never come to our Knowledge; yet as we have endeavour'd to furnish our selves with the most authentick Accounts we could from all Parts of the Nation, and a great many worthy Gentlemen have contributed their Assistance in various, and some very exact Relations and curious Remarks; so we pretend, not to be meanly furnish'd for this Work.
Some Gentlemen, whose Accounts are but of common and trivial Damages, we hope will not take it ill from the Author, if they are not inserted at large; for that we are willing to put in nothing here common with other Accidents of like nature; or which may not be worthy of a History and a Historian to record them; nothing but, what may serve to assist in convincing Posterity that this was the most violent Tempest the World ever saw.
From hence 'twill follow, that those Towns who only had their Houses until'd, their Barns and Hovels levell'd with the Ground, and the like, will find very little notice taken of them in this Account; because if these were to be the Subject of a History, I presume it must be equally voluminous with Fox, Grimston, Holinshead or Stow.
Nor shall I often trouble the Reader with the Multitude or Magnitude of Trees blown down, whole Parks ruin'd, fine Walks defac'd, and Orchards laid flat, and the like: and tho' I had, my self, the Curiosity to count the Number of Trees, in a Circuit I rode, over most part of Kent, in which being tired with the Number, I left off reckoning after I had gone on to 17000; and tho' I have great reason to believe I did not observe one half of the Quantity; yet in some Parts of England, as in Devonshire especially, and the Counties of Worcester, Gloucester, and Hereford, which are full of very large Orchards of Fruit-Trees, they had much more mischief.
In the Pursuit of this Work, I shall divide it into the following Chapters or Sections, that I may put it into as good Order as possible.
| 1. | Of the Damage | in the City of London, &c. |
| 2. | in the Counties. | |
| 3. | } On the Water { | in the Royal Navy. |
| 4. | to Shipping in general. | |
| 5. | by Earthquake. | |
| 6. | by High Tides. | |
| 7. | Remarkable Providences and Deliverances. | |
| 8. | Hardned and blasphemous Contemners both of the Storm and itsEffects. | |
| 9. | Some Calculations of Damage sustain'd. | |
| 10. | The Conclusion. | |
We had design'd a Chapter for the Damages abroad, and have been at no small Charge to procure the Particulars from foreign Parts; which are now doing in a very authentick manner: but as the World has been long expecting this Work, and several Gentlemen who were not a little contributing to the Information of the Author, being unwilling to stay any longer for the Account, it was resolved to put it into the Press without any farther Delay: and if the foreign Accounts can be obtain'd in time, they shall be a Supplement to the Work; if not, some other Method shall be found out to make them publick.
I. Of the Damages in the City of London, and Parts adjacent
Indeed the City was a strange Spectacle, the Morning after the Storm, as soon as the People could put their Heads out of Doors: though I believe, every Body expected the Destruction was bad enough; yet I question very much, if any Body believed the Hundredth Part of what they saw.
The Streets lay so covered with Tiles and Slates, from the Tops of the Houses, especially in the Out-parts, that the Quantity is incredible: and the Houses were so universally stript, that all the Tiles in Fifty Miles round would be able to repair but a small Part of it.
Something may be guest at on this Head, from the sudden Rise of the Price of Tiles; which rise from 21 s. per Thousand to 6 l. for plain Tiles; and from 50 s. per Thousand for Pantiles, to 10 l. and Bricklayers Labour to 5 s. per Day: And tho' after the first Hurry the Prices fell again, it was not that the Quantity was supply'd; but because,
1st, The Charge was so extravagant, that an universal Neglect of themselves, appear'd both in Landlord and Tenant; an incredible Number of Houses remain'd all the Winter uncovered, and expos'd to all the Inconveniences of Wet and Cold; and are so even at the Writing of this Chapter.
2. Those People who found it absolutely necessary to cover their Houses, but were unwilling to go to the extravagant Price of Tiles; chang'd their Covering to that of Wood, as a present Expedient, till the Season for making of Tiles should come on; and the first Hurry being over, the Prices abate: and 'tis on this Score, that we see, to this Day, whole Ranks of Buildings, as in Christ Church Hospital, the Temple, Asks-Hospital, Old-street, Hogsden-Squares, and infinite other Places, covered entirely with Deal Boards; and are like to continue so, perhaps a Year or two longer, for Want of Tiles.
These two Reasons reduc'd the Tile-Merchants to sell at a more moderate Price: But 'tis not an irrational Suggestion, that all the Tiles which shall be made this whole Summer, will not repair the Damage in the covering of Houses within the Circumference of the City, and Ten Miles round.
The next Article in our Street Damage was, the Fall of Chimneys; and as the Chimneys in the City Buildings are built in large Stacks, the Houses being so high, the Fall of them had the more Power, by their own Weight, to demolish the Houses they fell upon.
'Tis not possible to give a distinct Account of the Number, or particular Stacks of Chimneys, which fell in this fatal Night; but the Reader may guess by this Particular, that in Cambray-House, commonly so called, a great House near Islington, belonging to the Family of the Comptons, Earls of Northampton, but now let out into Tenements; the Collector of these Remarks counted Eleven or Thirteen Stacks of Chimneys, either wholly thrown in, or the greatest Parts of them at least, what was expos'd to the Wind, blown off. I have heard Persons, who pretended to observe the Desolation of that terrible Night very nicely; and who, by what they had seen and enquired into, thought themselves capable of making some Calculations, affirm, They could give an Account of above Two Thousand Stacks of Chimneys blown down in and about London; besides Gable Ends of Houses, some whole Roofs, and Sixteen or Twenty whole Houses in the Out-Parts.
Under the Disaster of this Article, it seems most proper to place the Loss of the Peoples Lives, who fell in this Calamity; since most of those, who had the Misfortune to be killed, were buried, or beaten to Pieces with the Rubbish of the several Stacks of Chimneys that fell.
Of these, our Weekly Bills of Mortality gave us an Account of Twenty One; besides such as were drown'd in the River, and never found: and besides above Two Hundred People very much wounded and maim'd.
One Woman was kill'd by the Fall of a Chimney in or near the Palace of St. James's, and a Stack of Chimneys falling in the new unfinish'd Building there, and carried away a Piece of the Coin of the House.
Nine Souldiers were hurt, with the Fall of the Roof of the Guard-house at Whitehall, but none of them died.
A Distiller in Duke-Street, with his Wife, and Maid-servant, were all buried in the Rubbish of a Stack of Chimneys, which forced all the Floors, and broke down to the Bottom of the House; the Wife was taken out alive, though very much bruised, but her Husband and the Maid lost their Lives.
One Mr. Dyer, a Plaisterer in Fetter-Lane, finding the Danger he was in by the shaking of the House, jumpt out of Bed to save himself; and had, in all Probability, Time enough to have got out of the House, but staying to strike a Light, a Stack of Chimneys fell in upon him, kill'd him, and wounded his Wife.
Two Boys at one Mr. Purefoy's, in Cross-Street Hatton-Garden, were both kill'd, and buried in the Rubbish of a Stack of Chimneys; and a third very much wounded.
A Woman in Jewin-Street, and Two Persons more near Aldersgate-Street, were kill'd; the first, as it is reported, by venturing to run out of the House into the Street; and the other Two by the Fall of a House.
In Threadneedle-Street, one Mr. Simpson, a Scrivener being in Bed and fast a-sleep, heard nothing of the Storm; but the rest of the Family being more sensible of Danger, some of them went up, and wak'd him; and telling him their own Apprehensions, press'd him to rise; but he too fatally sleepy, and consequently unconcern'd at the Danger, told them, he did not apprehend any Thing; and so, notwithstanding all their Persuasions, could not be prevailed with to rise: they had not been gone many Minutes out of his Chamber, before the Chimneys fell in, broke through the Roof over him, and kill'd him in his Bed.
A Carpenter in White-Cross-Street was kill'd almost in the same Manner, by a Stack of Chimneys of the Swan Tavern, which fell into his House; it was reported, That his Wife earnestly desir'd him not to go to Bed; and had prevail'd upon him to sit up till near two a Clock, but then finding himself very heavy, he would go to Bed against all his Wife's Intreaties; after which she wak'd him, and desir'd him to rise, which he refus'd, being something angry for being disturb'd; and going to sleep again, was kill'd in his Bed: and his Wife, who would not go to Bed, escap'd.
In this Manner, our Weekly Bills gave us an Account of Twenty One Persons kill'd in the City of London, and Parts adjacent.
Some of our printed Accounts give us larger and plainer Accounts of the Loss of Lives, than I will venture to affirm for Truth; as of several Houses near Moor-Fields levell'd with the Ground: Fourteen People drowned in a Wherry going to Gravesend, and Five in a Wherry from Chelsey. Not that it is not very probable to be true; but as I resolve not to hand any thing to Posterity, but what comes very well attested, I omit such Relations as I have not extraordinary Assurance as to the Fact.
The Fall of Brick-Walls, by the Fury of this Tempest, in and about London, would make a little Book of it self; and as this affects the Out-Parts chiefly, where the Gardens and Yards are wall'd in, so few such have escap'd; at St. James's a considerable part of the Garden Wall; at Greenwich Park there are several pieces of the Wall down for an Hundred Rods in a Place; and some much more, at Battersey, Chelsey, Putney, at Clapham, at Deptford, at Hackney, Islington, Hogsden, Wood's Close by St. John's Street, and on every side the City, the Walls of the Gardens have generally felt the Shock, and lie flat on the Ground twenty, thirty Rod of walling in a Place.
The publick Edifices of the City come next under our Consideration; and these have had their Share in the Fury of this terrible Night.
A part of her Majesty's Palace, as is before observ'd, with a Stack of Chimneys in the Centre of the new Buildings, then not quite finished, fell with such a terrible Noise as very much alarm'd the whole Houshold.
The Roof of the Guard-house at Whitehall, as is also observ'd before, was quite blown off; and the great Vane, or Weather-Cock at Whitehall blown down.
The Lead, on the Tops of the Churches and other Buildings, was in many Places roll'd up like a Roll of Parchment, and blown in some Places clear off from the Buildings; as at Westminster Abby, St. Andrews Holbourn, Christ-Church Hospital, and abundance of other Places.
Two of the new built Turrets, on the Top of St. Mary Aldermary Church, were blown off, whereof One fell upon the Roof of the Church; of Eight Pinnacles on the Top of St. Albans Woodstreet, Five of them were blown down; Part of One of the Spires of St. Mary Overies blown off; Four Pinnacles on the Steeple of St. Michael Crooked Lane blown quite off: The Vanes and Spindles of the Weather-Cocks, in many places, bent quite down; as on St. Michael Cornhil, St. Sepulchres, the Tower, and divers other Places.
It was very remarkable, that the Bridge over the Thames received but little Damage, and not in Proportion to what in common Reason might be expected; since the Buildings there stand high, and are not sheltered, as they are in the Streets, one by another.
If I may be allow'd to give this Philosophical Account of it, I hope it may not be absurd; that the Indraft of the Arches underneath the Houses giving Vent to the Air, it past there with a more than common Current; and consequently relieved the Buildings, by diverting the Force of the Storm: I ask Pardon of the ingenious Reader for this Opinion, if it be not regular, and only present it to the World for Want of a better; if those better furnished that Way will supply us with a truer Account, I shall withdraw mine, and submit to theirs. The Fact however is certain, that the Houses on the Bridge did not suffer in Proportion to the other Places; though all must allow, they do not seem to be stronger built, than other Streets of the same sort.
Another Observation I cannot but make; to which, as I have Hundreds of Instances, so I have many more Witnesses to the Truth of Fact, and the uncommon Experiment has made it the more observ'd.
The Wind blew, during the whole Storm, between the Points of S.W. and N.W., not that I mean it blew at all these Points, but I take a Latitude of Eight Points to avoid Exceptions, and to confirm my Argument; since what I am insisting upon, could not be a natural Cause from the Winds blowing in any of those particular Points.
If a Building stood North and South, it must be a Consequence that the East-side Slope of the Roof must be the Lee-side, lie out of the Wind, be weather'd by the Ridge, and consequently receive no Damage in a direct Line.
But against this rational way of arguing, we are convinced by Demonstration and Experiment, after which Argument must be silent. It was not in one Place or Two, but in many Places; that where a Building stood ranging North and South, the Sides or Slopes of the Roof to the East and the West, the East-side of the Roof would be stript and untiled by the Violence of the Wind; and the West Side, which lay open to the Wind, be sound and untouch'd.
This, I conceive, must happen either where the Building had some open Part, as Windows or Doors to receive the Wind in the Inside, which being pusht forward by the succeeding Particles of the Air, must force its Way forward, and so lift off the Tiling on the Leeward side of the Building; or it must happen from the Position of such Building near some other higher Place or Building, where the Wind being repuls'd, must be forc'd back again in Eddies; and consequently taking the Tiles from the lower Side of the Roof, rip them up with the more Ease.
However it was, it appear'd in many Places, the Windward Side of the Roof would be whole, and the Leeward Side, or the Side from the Wind, be untiled; in other Places, a high Building next the Wind has been not much hurt, and a lower Building on the Leeward Side of the high One clean ript, and hardly a Tile left upon it: this is plain in the Building of Christ Church Hospital in London, where the Building on the West and South Side of the Cloyster was at least Twenty Five Foot higher than the East Side, and yet the Roof of the lower Side on the East was quite untiled by the Storm; and remains at the Writing of This covered with Deal Boards above an Hundred Foot in Length.
The blowing down of Trees may come in for another Article in this Part; of which, in Proportion to the Quantity, here was as much as in any Part of England: Some printed Accounts tell us of Seventy Trees in Moorfields blown down, which may be true; but that some of them were Three Yards about, as is affirmed by the Authors, I cannot allow: above a Hundred Elms in St. James's Park, some whereof were of such Growth, as they tell us they were planted by Cardinal Woolsey; whether that Part of it be true or not, is little to the Matter, but only to imply that they were very great Trees: about Baums, commonly call'd Whitmore house, there were above Two Hundred Trees blown down, and some of them of extraordinary Size broken off in the middle.
And 'twas observ'd, that in the Morning after the Storm was abated, it blew so hard, the Women, who usually go for Milk to the Cow-keepers in the Villages round the City, were not able to go along with their Pails on their Heads; and One, that was more hardy than the rest, was blown away by the Fury of the Storm, and forced into a Pond, but by strugling hard got out, and avoided being drowned; and some that ventured out with Milk the Evening after, had their Pails and Milk blown off from their Heads.
'Tis impossible to enumerate the Particulars of the Damage suffered, and of the Accidents which happened under these several Heads, in and about the City of London: The Houses looked like Skeletons, and an universal Air of Horror seem'd to sit on the Countenances of the People; all Business seem'd to be laid aside for the Time, and People were generally intent upon getting Help to repair their Habitations.
It pleased God so to direct things, that there fell no Rain in any considerable Quantity, except what fell the same Night or the ensuing Day, for near Three Weeks after the Storm, though it was a Time of the Year that is generally dripping. Had a wet Rainy Season followed the Storm, the Damage which would have been suffered in and about this City to Houshold Goods, Furniture and Merchandise, would have been incredible, and might have equall'd all the the rest of the Calamity: but the Weather prov'd fair and temperate for near a Month after the Storm, which gave People a great deal of Leisure in providing themselves Shelter, and fortifying their Houses against the Accidents of Weather by Deal Boards, old Tiles, Pieces of Sail-Cloth, Tarpaulin, and the like.
II. Of the Damages in the Country
As the Author of this was an Eye-witness and Sharer of the Particulars in the former Chapter; so, to furnish the Reader with Accounts as authentick, and which he has as much cause to depend upon as if he had seen them, he has the several Particulars following from like Eye-witnesses; and that in such a manner, as I think their Testimony is not to be question'd, most of the Gentlemen being of Piety and Reputation.
And as a Publication was made to desire all Persons who were willing to contribute to the forwarding this Work, and to transmit the Memory of so signal a Judgment to Posterity, that they would be pleas'd to send up such authentick Accounts of the Mischiefs, Damages, and Disasters in their respective Counties that the World might rely on; it cannot, without a great breach of Charity, be suppos'd that Men mov'd by such Principles, without any private Interest or Advantage, would forge any thing to impose upon the World, and abuse Mankind in Ages to come.
Interest, Parties, Strife, Faction, and particular Malice, with all the scurvy Circumstances attending such things, may prompt Men to strain a Tale beyond its real Extent; but, that Men shou'd invent a Story to amuse Posterity, in a case where they have no manner of Motive, where the only Design is to preserve the Remembrance of Divine Vengeance, and put our Children in mind of God's Judgments upon their sinful Fathers, this would be telling a Lye for God's sake, and doing Evil for the sake of it self, which is a step beyond the Devil.
Besides, as most of our Relators have not only given us their Names, and sign'd the Accounts they have sent, but have also given us Leave to hand their Names down to Posterity with the Record of the Relation they give, we would hope no Man will be so uncharitable to believe that Men would be forward to set their Names to a voluntary Untruth, and have themselves recorded to Posterity for having, without Motion, Hope, Reward, or any other reason, impos'd a Falsity upon the World, and dishonour'd our Relation with the useless Banter of an Untruth.
We cannot therefore but think, that as the Author believes himself sufficiently back'd by the Authority of the Vouchers he presents, so after what has been here premis'd, no Man will have any room to suspect us of Forgery.
The ensuing Relation therefore, as to Damages in the Country, shall consist chiefly of Letters from the respective Places where such things have happen'd; only that as all our Letters are not concise enough to be printed as they are, where it is otherwise the Letter is digested into a Relation only; in which the Reader is assur'd we have always kept close to the matter of fact.
And first, I shall present such Accounts as are entire, and related by Men of Letters, principally by the Clergy; which shall be given you in their own Words.
The first is from Stowmarket in Suffolk, where, by the Violence of the Storm, the finest Spire in that County, and but new built, viz. within thirty Years, was overthrown, and fell upon the Church. The Letter is sign'd by the reverend Minister of the Place, and vouched by two of the principal Inhabitants, as follows.
SIR,
Having seen an Advertisement of a Design to perpetuate the Remembrance of the late dreadful Storm, by publishing a Collection of all the remarkable Accidents occasion'd by it, and supposing the Damage done to our Church to be none of the least, we were willing to contribute something to your Design, by sending you an Account thereof as follows.
We had formerly a Spire of Timber covered with Lead, of the height of 77 Foot; which being in danger of falling, was taken down: and in the Year 1674, with the Addition of 10 Loads of new Timber, 21 thousand and 8 hundred weight of Lead, a new one was erected, 100 Foot high from the Steeple, with a Gallery at the height of 40 Foot all open, wherein hung a Clock-Bell of between 2 and 3 hundred Weight. The Spire stood but 8 Yards above the Roof of the Church; and yet by the extreme Violence of the Storm, a little before 6 in the Morning the Spire was thrown down; and carrying with it all the Battlements on the East side, it fell upon the Church at the distance of 28 Foot; for so much is the distance between the Steeple and the first Breach, which is on the North-side of the middle Roof, of the length of 17 Foot, where it brake down 9 Spars clean, each 23 Foot long, and severally supported with very strong Braces. The Spire inclining to the North, fell cross the middle Wall, and broke off at the Gallery, the lower part falling in at the aforesaid Breach, and the upper upon the North Isle, which is 24 Foot wide, with a flat Roof lately built, all new and very strong: It carried all before it from side to side, making a Breach 37 Foot long, breaking in sunder two large Beams that went a-cross, which were 12 Inches broad and 15 deep, besides several other smaller. Besides these two Breaches, there is a great deal of Damage done by the Fall of great Stones upon other parts of the Roof, as well as by the Wind's riving up the Lead, and a third part of the Pews broken all in pieces, every thing falling into the Church, except the Weather-cock, which was found in the Church-yard, at a considerable distance, in the great Path that goes cross by the East End of the Church. It will cost above 400 l. to make all good as it was before. There were 3 single Chimneys blown down, and a Stack of 4 more together, all about the same time; and some others so shaken, that they were forc'd to be pull'd down; but, we thank God, no body hurt, tho' one Bed was broken in pieces that was very oft lain in: no body lay in it that Night. Most Houses suffered something in their Tiling, and generally all round the Country, there is incredible Damage done to Churches, Houses, and Barns.
Samuel Farr, Vicar.
John Gaudy.
William Garrard.
From Oxfordshire we have an Account very authentick, and yet unaccountably strange: but the reverend Author of the Story being a Gentleman whose Credit we cannot dispute, in acknowledgment to his Civility, and for the Advantage of our true Design, we give his Letter also verbatim.
Meeting with an Advertisement of yours in the Gazette of Monday last, I very much approved of the Design, thinking it might be a great Motive towards making People, when they hear the Fate of others, return Thanks to Almighty God for his Providence in preserving them. I accordingly was resolved to send you all I knew. The Place where I have for some time lived is Besselsleigh, in Barkshire, about four Miles S.W. of Oxon. The Wind began with us much about One of the Clock in the Morning, and did not do much harm, only in untiling Houses, blowing down a Chimney or two, without any Person hurt, and a few Trees: but what was the only thing that was strange, and to be observed, was a very tall Elm, which was found the next Morning standing, but perfectly twisted round; the Root a little loosen'd, but not torn up. But what happened the Afternoon preceding, is abundantly more surprizing, and is indeed the Intent of this Letter.
On Friday the 26th of November, in the Afternoon, about Four of the Clock, a Country Fellow came running to me in a great Fright, and very earnestly entreated me to go and see a Pillar, as he call'd it, in the Air, in a Field hard by. I went with the Fellow; and when I came, found it to be a Spout marching directly with the Wind: and I can think of nothing I can compare it to better than the Trunk of an Elephant, which it resembled, only much bigger. It was extended to a great Length, and swept the Ground as it went, leaving a Mark behind. It crossed a Field; and what was very strange (and which I should scarce have been induced to believe had I not my self seen it, besides several Country-men who were astonish'd at it) meeting with an Oak that stood towards the middle of the Field snapped the Body of it asunder. Afterwards crossing a Road, it sucked up the Water that was in the Cart-ruts: then coming to an old Barn, it tumbled it down, and the Thatch that was on the Top was carried about by the Wind, which was then very high, in great confusion. After this I followed it no farther, and therefore saw no more of it. But a Parishoner of mine going from hence to Hinksey, in a Field about a quarter of a Mile off of this Place, was on the sudden knock'd down, and lay upon the Place till some People came by and brought him home; and he is not yet quite recovered. Having examined him, by all I can collect both from the Time, and Place, and Manner of his being knock'd down, I must conclude it was done by the Spout, which, if its Force had not been much abated, had certainly kill'd him: and indeed I attribute his Illness more to the Fright, than the sudden Force with which he was struck down.
I will not now enter into a Dissertation on the Cause of Spouts, but by what I can understand they are caused by nothing but the Circumgyration of the Clouds, made by two contrary Winds meeting in a Point, and condensing the Cloud till it falls in the Shape we see it; which by the twisting Motion sucks up Water, and doth much Mischief to Ships at Sea, where they happen oftner than at Land. Whichever of the two Winds prevails, as in the above-mentioned was the S.W. at last dissolves and dissipates the Cloud, and then the Spout disappears.
This is all I have to communicate to you, wishing you all imaginable Success in your Collection. Whether you insert this Account, I leave wholly to your own Discretion; but can assure you, that to most of these things, tho' very surprizing, I was my self an Eye-witness. I am,
SIR,
Your humble Servant,
Joseph Ralton.Dec. 12. 1703.
The judicious Reader will observe here, that this strange Spout, or Cloud, or what else it may be call'd, was seen the Evening before the great Storm: from whence is confirm'd what I have said before of the violent Agitation of the Air for some time before the Tempest.
A short, but very regular Account, from Northampton, the Reader may take in the following Letter; the Person being of undoubted Credit and Reputation in the Town, and the Particulars very well worth remark.
SIR,
Having seen in the Gazette an Intimation, that there would be a Memorial drawn up of the late terrible Wind, and the Effects of it, and that the Composer desired Informations from credible Persons, the better to enable him to do the same, I thought good to intimate what happen'd in this Town, and its Neighbourhood. 1. The Weather-cock of All-Saints Church being placed on a mighty Spindle of Iron, was bowed together, and made useless. Many Sheets of Lead on that Church, as also on St. Giles's and St. Sepulchres, rowled up like a Scroll. Three Windmills belonging to the Town blown down, to the Amazement of all Beholders; the mighty upright Post below the Floor of the Mills being snapt in two like a Reed. Two entire Stacks of Chimneys in a House uninhabited fell on two several Roofs, and made a most amazing Ruin in the Chambers, Floors, and even to the lower Windows and Wainscot, splitting and tearing it as if a Blow by Gun-powder had happen'd. The Floods at this instant about the South Bridge, from a violent S.W. Wind, rose to a great and amazing height; the Wind coming over or a-thwart large open Meadows, did exceeding damage in that part of the Town, by blowing down some whole Houses, carrying whole Roofs at once into the Streets, and very many lesser Buildings of Tanners, Fell-mongers, Dyers, Glue-makers, &c. yet, through the Goodness of God, no Person killed or maimed: the mighty Doors of the Sessions-house, barr'd and lock'd, forced open, whereby the Wind entring, made a miserable Havock of the large and lofty Windows: a Pinnacle on the Guild-hall, with the Fane, was also blown down. To speak of Houses shatter'd, Corn-ricks and Hovels blown from their Standings, would be endless. In Sir Thomas Samwell's Park a very great headed Elm was blown over the Park-Wall into the Road, and yet never touched the Wall, being carried some Yards. I have confined my self to this Town. If the Composer finds any thing agreeable to his Design, he may use it or dismiss it at his Discretion. Such Works of Providence are worth recording. I am
Your loving Friend,
Ben. Bullivant.Northampton,
Dec. 12. 1703.
The following Account from Berkly and other Places in Gloucestershire and Somersetshire, &c. are the sad Effects of the prodigious Tide in the Severn. The Wind blowing directly into the Mouth of that Channel we call the Severn Sea, forced the Waters up in such quantity, that 'tis allow'd the Flood was eight Foot higher than ever was known in the Memory of Man; and at one Place, near Huntspill, it drove several Vessels a long way upon the Land; from whence, no succeeding Tide rising to near that height, they can never be gotten off: as will appear in the two following Letters.
SIR,
This Parish is a very large one in the County of Gloucester, on one Side whereof runneth the River Severn, which by Reason of the Violence of the late Storm beat down and tore to pieces the Sea Wall (which is made of great Stones, and Sticks which they call Rouses; a Yard and half long, about the Bigness of ones Thigh rammed into the Ground as firm as possible) in many Places, and levell'd it almost with the Ground, forcing vast Quantities of Earth a great Distance from the Shore, and Stones, many of which were above a Hundred Weight: and hereby the Severn was let in above a Mile over one part of the Parish, and did great Damage to the Land; it carried away one House which was by the Sea-side, and a Gentleman's Stable, wherein was a Horse, into the next Ground; and then the Stable fell to pieces, and so the Horse came out. There is one thing more remarkable in this Parish, and 'tis this: Twenty Six Sheets of Lead, hanging all together, were blown off from the middle Isle of our Church, and were carried over the North Isle, which is a very large one, without touching it; and into the Church-yard ten Yards distant from the Church; and they were took up all joyned together as they were on the Roof; the Plummer told me that the Sheets weighed each Three Hundred and a half one with another. This is what is most observable in our Parish; but I shall give you an Account of one thing (which perhaps you may have from other Hands) that happen'd in another, call'd Kingscote, a little Village about Three Miles from Tedbury, and Seven from us; where William Kingscote Esq; has many Woods; among which was one Grove of very tall Trees, being each near Eighty Foot high; the which he greatly valued for the Tallness and Prospect of them, and therefore resolv'd never to cut them down: But it so happen'd, that Six Hundred of them, within the Compass of Five Acres were wholly blown down; (and suppos'd to be much at the same time) each Tree tearing up the Ground with its Root; so that the Roots of most of the Trees, with the Turf and Earth about them, stood up at least Fifteen or Sixteen Foot high; the lying down of which Trees is an amazing Sight to all Beholders. This Account was given by the Gentleman himself, whom I know very well. I have no more to add, but that I am, Your humble Servant, wishing you good Success in your Undertaking,
Henry Head, Vicar of Berkly.
Jan. 24.
The Damage of the Sea-wall may amount to about five Hundred Pounds.
SIR,
I Received a printed Paper sometime since, wherein I was desired to send you an Account of what happen'd in the late Storm: and I should have answered it sooner, but was willing to make some Enquiry first about this County; and by what I can hear or learn, the dismal Accident of our late Bishop and Lady was most remarkable; who was killed by the Fall of two Chimney Stacks, which fell on the Roof, and drove it in upon my Lord's Bed, forced it quite through the next Flower down into the Hall, and buried them both in the Rubbish; and 'tis suppos'd my Lord was getting up, for he was found some Distance from my Lady, who was found in her Bed; but my Lord had his Morning Gown on, so that 'tis suppos'd he was coming from the Bed just as it fell. We had likewise two small Houses blown flat down just as the People were gone out to a Neighbour's House; and several other Chimney Stacks fell down, and some through the Roof, but no other Accident as to Death in this Town or near it: abundance of Tiles are blown off, and likewise Thatch in and about this Town, and several Houses uncover'd, in the Country all about us, abundance of Apple and Elm Trees are rooted up by the Ground; and also abundance of Wheat and Hay-mows blown down: at Huntspil, about twelve Miles from this Town, there was Four or Five small Vessels drove a-shoar which remain there still, and 'tis suppos'd cannot be got off; and in the same Parish, the Tide broke in Breast high; but all the People escap'd only one Woman, who was drowned. These are all the remarkable Things that happen'd near us, as I can hear of; and is all, but my humble Service; and beg Leave to subscribe my self,
SIR,
Your most humble Servant,
Edith. Conyers.Wells in Somersetshire,
Feb. 9. 1703.
SIR,
The Dreadful Storm did this Church but little Damage, but our Houses were terribly shaken hereabouts, and the Tide drowned the greatest part of the Sheep on our Common; as it likewise did, besides many Cows, between this Place and Bristol; on the opposite Shore of Glamorganshire, as (I suppose you may also know) it brake down part of Chepstow Bridge, o'er the Wye. In the midst of this Church-yard grew a vast Tree, thought to be the most large and flourishing Elm in the Land which was torn up by the Roots, some of which are really bigger than ones Middle, and several than a Man's Thigh; the Compass of them curiously interwoven with the Earth, being from the Surface (or Turf) to the Basis, full an Ell in Depth, and Eighteen Foot and half in the Diameter, and yet thrown up near Perpendicular; the Trunk, together with the loaden Roots, is well judg'd to be Thirteen Tun at least, and the Limbs to make Six Load of Billets with Faggots; and, about Two Years since, our Minister observ'd, that the circumambient Boughs dropt round above Two Hundred Yards: He hath given it for a Singers Seat in our said Church, with this Inscription thereon; Nov. 27. A.D. 1703. Miserere, &c.
Slimbrige near Severn
Dec. 28. 1703.William Frith Church-Warden.
By the late Dreadful Storm a considerable Breach was made in our Town Wall, and Part of the Church Steeple blown down; besides most of the Inhabitants suffered very much by untiling their Houses, &c. and abundance of Trees unrooted: at the same time our River overflowed, and drowned the low Grounds of both Sides the Town, whereby several Hundreds of Sheep were lost, and some Cattle; and one of our Market Boats lifted upon our Key. This is a true Account of most of our Damages. I am,
Your humble Servant,
William Jones.Cardiff,
Jan. 10. 1703.
Honour'd Sir,
In Obedience to your Request I have here sent you a particular Account of the damages sustain'd in our Parish by the late Violent Storm; and because that of our Church is the most material which I have to impart to you, I shall therefore begin with it. It is the fineness of our Church which magnifies our present loss, for in the whole it is a large and noble structure, compos'd within and without of Ashler curiously wrought, and consisting of a stately Roof in the middle, and two Isles runing a considerable length from one end of it to the other, makes a very beautiful Figure. It is also adorn'd with 28 admired and Celebrated Windows, which, for the variety and fineness of the Painted Glass that was in them, do justly attract the Eyes of all curious Travellers to inspect and behold them; nor is it more famous for its Glass, than newly renown'd for the Beauty of its Seats and Paving, both being chiefly the noble Gift of that pious and worthy Gentleman Andrew Barker, Esq; the late Deceas'd Lord of the Mannor. So that all things consider'd, it does equal, at least, if not exceed, any Parochial Church in England. Now that part of it which most of all felt the fury of the Winds, was, a large middle West Window, in Dimension about 15 Foot wide, and 25 Foot high: it represents the general Judgment, and is so fine a piece of Art, that 1500 l. has formerly been bidden for it, a price, though very tempting, yet were the Parishoners so just and honest as to refuse it. The upper part of this Window, just above the place where our Saviour's Picture is drawn sitting on a Rainbow, and the Earth his Foot-stool, is entirely ruin'd, and both sides are so shatter'd and torn, especially the left, that upon a general Computation, a fourth part, at least, is blown down and destroy'd. The like Fate has another West Window on the left side of the former, in Dimension about 10 Foot broad, and 15 Foot high, sustain'd; the upper half of which is totally broke, excepting one Stone Munnel. Now if this were but ordinary Glass, we might quickly compute what our repairs would Cost, but we the more lament our misfortune herein, because the Paint of these two, as of all the other Windows in our Church, is stain'd thro' the Body of the Glass; so that if that be true which is generally said, that this Art is lost, then have we an irretrievable loss. There are other damages about our Church, which, tho' not so great as the former, do yet as much testify how strong and boisterous the Winds were, for they unbedded 3 Sheets of Lead upon the uppermost Roof, and roll'd them up like so much Paper. Over the Church-porch, a large Pinnacle and two Battlements were blown down upon the leads of it, but resting there, and their fall being short, these will be repair'd with little Cost. This is all I have to say concerning our Church: Our Houses come next to be considered, and here I may tell you, that (thanks be to God) the effects of the Storm were not so great as they have been in many other places; several Chimneys, and Tiles, and Slats, were thrown down, but no body kill'd or wounded. Some of the Poor, because their Houses were Thatch'd, were the greatest sufferers; but to be particular herein, would be very frivolous, as well as vexatious. One Instance of Note ought not to omitted; on Saturday the 26th, being the day after the Storm, about 2-a-Clock in the Afternoon, without any previous warning, a sudden flash of Lightning, with a short, but violent clap of Thunder, immediately following it like the Discharge of Ordnance, fell upon a new and strong built House in the middle of our Town, and at the same time disjointed two Chimneys, melted some of the Lead of an upper Window, and struck the Mistress of the House into a Swoon, but this, as appear'd afterwards, prov'd the effect more of fear, than of any real considerable hurt to be found about her. I have nothing more to add, unless it be the fall of several Trees and Ricks of Hay amongst us, but these being so common every where, and not very many in number here, I shall Conclude this tedious Scrible, and Subscribe my self,
SIR,
Your most Obedient and Humble Servant,
Edw. Shipton, Vic.Fairford, Gloucest.
January 1703/4.
The following Letters, tho' in a homely stile, are written by very honest, plain and observing Persons, to whom entire Credit may be given.
BREWTON.
SIR,
Some time since I received a Letter from you, to give you an Account of the most particular Things that hapned in the late dreadful Tempest of Wind, and in the first Place is the Copy of a Letter from a Brother of mine, that was an Exciseman of Axbridge, in the West of our County of Somerset; these are his Words,
What I know of the Winds in these Parts, are, that it broke down many Trees, and that the House of one Richard Henden; of Charter-House on Mendip, call'd Piney, was almost blown down, and in saving their House, they, and the Servants, and others, heard grievous Cries and Scrieches in the Air. The Tower of Compton Bishop was much shatter'd, and the Leads that cover'd it were taken clean away, and laid flat in the Church-Yard: The House of John Cray of that place, received much and strange Damages, which together with his part in the Sea-wall, amounted to 500 l. Near the Salt-works in the Parish of Burnham, was driven five trading Vessels, as Colliers and Corn-dealers, betwixt Wales and Bridgwater, at least 100 Yards on Pasture Ground. In the North Marsh, on the sides of Bristol River, near Ken at Walton Woodspring, the Waters broke with such Violence, that it came six Miles into the Country drowning much Cattel, carrying away several Hay-ricks and Stacks of Corn: And at a Farm at Churchill near Wrington, it blew down 150 Elms that grew most in Rows, and were laid as Uniform as Soldiers lodge their Arms.
At Cheddar near Axbridge, was much harm done in Apple-trees, Houses, and such like; but what's worth remark, tho' not the very Night of the Tempest, a Company of wicked People being at a Wedding of one Thomas Marshall, John, the Father of the said Thomas, being as most of the Company was very Drunk, after much filthy Discourse while he was eating, a strange Cat pulling something from his Trenchard, he Cursing her, stoopt to take it up, and died immediately.
At Brewton what was most Remarkable, was this, that one John Dicer of that Town, lay the Night as the Tempest was, in the Barn of one John Seller, the Violence of the Wind broke down the Roof of the Barn, but fortunately for him there was a Ladder which staid up a Rafter, which would have fell upon the said John Dicer; but he narrowly escaping being killed, did slide himself thro' the broken Roof, and so got over the Wall without any great hurt. What hurt was done more about that Town is not so considerable as in other Places; Such as blowing off the Thatch from a great many back Houses of the Town; for the Town is most tiled with a sort of heavy Tile, that the Wind had no power to move; there was some hurt done to the Church, which was not above 40s. besides the Windows, where was a considerable damage, the Lady Fitzharding's House standing by the Church, the Battlement with part of the Wall of the House was blown down, which 'tis said, above 20 Men with all their strength could not have thrown down; besides, a great many Trees in the Park torn up by the Roots, and laid in very good Order one after another; it was taken notice that the Wind did not come in a full Body at once, but it came in several Gusts, as my self have taken Notice as I rid the Country, that in half a Miles riding I could not see a Tree down, nor much hurt to Houses, then again I might for some space see the Trees down, and all the Houses shattred: and I have taken Notice that it run so all up the Country in such a Line as the Wind sat; about One of the Clock it turn'd to the North West, but at the beginning was at South West; I my self was up until One and then I went to Bed, but the highest of the Wind was after that, so that my Bed did shake with me.
What was about Wincanton, was, that one Mrs. Gapper had 36 Elm-trees growing together in a Row, 35 of them was blown down; and one Edgehill of the same Town, and his Family being a Bed did arise, hearing the House begin to Crak, and got out of the Doors with his whole Family, and as soon as they were out the Roof of the House fell in, and the Violence of the Wind took of the Children's Head-cloaths, that they never saw them afterwards.
At Evercreech, three Miles from Brewton, there were a poor Woman beg'd for Lodging in the Barn of one Edmond Peny that same Night that the Storm was, she was wet the Day before in Travelling, so she hung up her Cloaths in the Barn, and lay in the Straw; but when the Storm came it blew down the Roof of the Barn where she lay, and she narrowly escaped with her Life, being much bruised, and got out almost naked through the Roof where it was broken most, and went to the dwelling House of the said Edmond Peny, and they did arise, and did help her to something to cover her, till they could get out her Cloaths; that place of Evercreech received a great deal of hurt in their Houses, which is too large to put here.
At Batcomb Easterly of Evercreech, they had a great deal of Damage done as I said before, it lay exactly with the Wind from Evercreech, and both places received a great deal of Damage; there was one Widow Walter lived in a House by it self, the Wind carried away the Roof, and the Woman's pair of Bodice, that was never heard of again, and the whole Family escaped narrowly with their Lives; all the Battlements of the Church on that side of the Tower next to the Wind was blown in, and a great deal of Damage done to the Church.
At Shipton Mallet was great Damages done, as I was told by the Post that comes to Brewton, that the Tiles of the Meeting House was blown off, and being a sort of light Tiles they flew against the Neighbouring Windows, and broke them to pieces: And at Chalton near Shepton Mallet at one Abbot's, the Roof was carried from the Walls of the House and the House mightily shaken, and seemingly the Foundation removed, and in the Morning they found a Foundation Stone of the House upon the top of the Wall, where was a shew in the Ground of its being driven out. At Dinder within two Miles of Shepton, there was one John Allen, and his Son, being out of Doors in the midst of the Tempest, they saw a great Body of Fire flying on the side of a Hill, call'd Dinder-hill, about half a Mile from them, with a Shew of black in the midst of it, and another Body of Fire following it, something smaller than the former.
There has been a strange thing at Butly, eight Miles from Brewton, which was thought to be Witchcraft, where a great many unusual Things happened to one Pope, and his Family, especially to a Boy, that was his Son, that having lain several Hours Dead, when he came to himself, he told his Father, and several of his Neighbours, Strange Stories of his being carried away by some of his Neighbours that have been counted wicked Persons; the Things have been so strangely related that Thousands of People have gone to see and hear it; it lasted about a Year or more: But since the Storm I have inquired of the Neighbours how it was, and they tell me, that since the late Tempest of Wind the House and People have been quiet; for its generally said, that there was some Conjuration in quieting of that House. If you have a desire to hear any farther Account of it, I will make it my Business to inquire farther of it, for there were such. Things happened in that time which is seldom heard of,
Your humble Servant
Hu. Ash.Our Town of Butly lyes in such a place, that no Post-House is in a great many Miles of it, or you should hear oftner.
SIR,
I received yours, desiring an Account of the Damage done by the late great Wind about us. At Wilsnorton, three Miles from Wittney, the Lead of the Church was rouled, and great Damage done to the Church, many great Elms were tore up by the Roots: At Helford, two Miles from us, a Rookery of Elms, was most of it tore up by the Roots: At Cockeup, two Miles from us, was a Barn blown down, and several Elms blown down a Cross the High-way, so that there was no passage; a great Oak of about nine or ten Loads was blown down, having a Raven sitting in it, his Wing-feathers got between two Bows, and held him fast; but the Raven received no hurt: At Duckelton, a little thatch't House was taken off the Ground-pening, and removed a distance from the place, the covering not damaged. Hay-recks abundance are torn to pieces: At Wittney, six Stacks of Chimneys blown down, one House had a sheet of Lead taken from one side and blown over to the other, and many Houses were quite torn to pieces; several Hundred Trees blown down, some broke in the middle, and some torn up by the Roots. Blessed be God, I hear neither Man, Woman nor Child that received any harm about us.
Your Servant,
Richard Abenell.Wittney, Oxfordsh.
ILMISTER, Somerset
Brief but exact Remarks on the late Dreadful Storms of Wind, as it affected the Town, and the Parts adjacent.
Imprimus. At Ashil-Parish 3 Miles West from this Town, the Stable belonging to the Hare and Hounds Inn was blown down, in which were three Horses, one kill'd, another very much bruised.
2. At Jurdans, a Gentleman's Seat in the same Parish, there was a Brick Stable, whose Roof, one Back, and one End Wall, were all thrown down, and four foot in depth of the Fore Wall; in this Stable were 4 Horses, which by reason of the Hay-loft that bore up the Roof, were all preserv'd.
3. At Sevington Parish, three Miles East from this Town, John Hutkens had the Roof of a new built House heaved clean off the Walls. Note, the House was not glazed, and the Roof was thatch'd.
4. In White Larkington Park, a Mile East from this Town, besides four or five hundred tall Trees broken and blown down, (admirable to behold, what great Roots was turned up) there were three very large Beaches, two of them that were near five Foot thick in the Stem were broken off, one of them near the Root, the other was broken off twelve Foot above, and from that place down home to the Root was shattered and flown; the other that was not broken, cannot have less than forty Waggon Loads in it; a very fine Walk of Trees before the House all blown down, and broke down the Roof of a Pidgeon House, the Rookery carried away in Lanes, the Lodg-House damaged in the Roof, and one End by the fall of Trees. In the Garden belonging to the House, was a very fine Walk of tall Firrs, twenty of which were broken down.
5. The damage in the Thatch of Houses, (which is the usual Covering in these Parts) is so great and general, that the price of Reed arose from twenty Shillings to fifty or three Pounds a Hundred; insomuch that to shelter themselves from the open Air, many poor People were glad to use Bean, Helm and Furse, to thatch their Houses with, Things never known to be put to such Use before.
6. At Kingston, a Mile distance from this Town, the Church was very much shattered in its Roof, and Walls too, and all our Country Churches much shattered, so that Churches and Gentlemen's Houses which were tiled, were so shatter'd in their Roofs, that at present, they are generally patch'd with Reed, not in Compliance with the Mode, but the Necessity of the Times.
7. At Broadway, two Miles West of this Town, Hugh Betty, his Wife, and four Children being in his House, it was by the violence of the Storm blown down, one of his Children killed, his Wife wounded, but recovered, the rest escaped with their Lives. A large Alms-house had most of the Tile blown off, and other Houses much shattered; a very large Brick Barn blown down, Walls and Roof to the Ground.
8. Many large Stacks of Wheat were broken, some of the Sheaves carried two or three Hundred Yards from the Place, many Stacks of Hay turned over, some Stacks of Corn heaved off the Stadle, and set down on the Ground, and not broken.
9. Dowlish Walk, two Miles South East, the Church was very much shattered, several Load of Stones fell down, not as yet repair'd, therefore can't express the damage. A very large Barn broken down that stood near the Church, much damage was done to Orchards, not only in this Place, but in all places round, some very fine Orchards quite destroyed: some to their great Cost had the Trees set up right again, but a Storm of Wind came after, which threw down many of the Trees again; as to Timber Trees, almost all our high Trees were broken down in that violent Storm.
10. In this Town Henry Dunster, his Wife and 2 Children, was in their House when it was blown down, but they all escaped with their Lives, only one of them had a small Bruise with a piece of Timber, as she was going out of the Chamber when the Roof broke in.
The Church, in this Place, scap'd very well, as to its Roof, being cover'd with Lead only on the Chancel; the Lead was at the top of the Roof heaved up, and roll'd together, more than ten Men could turn back again, without cutting the Sheets of Lead, which was done to put it in its place again: But in general the Houses much broken and shatter'd, besides the fall of some.
This is a short, but true Account. I have heard of several other things which I have not mentioned, because I could not be positive in the truth of them, unless I had seen it. This is what I have been to see the truth of. You may enlarge on these short Heads, and methodize 'em as you see good.
At Henton St. George, at the Lord Pawlet's, a new Brick Wall was broken down by the Wind for above 100 foot, the Wall being built not above 2 years since, as also above 60 Trees near 100 foot high.
At Barrington, about 2 miles North of this Town, there was blown down above eight-score Trees, being of an extraordinary height, at the Lady Strouds.
As we shall not crow'd our Relation with many Letters from the same places, so it cannot be amiss to let the World have, at least, one Authentick Account from most of those Places where any Capital Damages have been sustain'd and to summ up the rest in a general Head at the end of this Chapter.
From Wiltshire we have the following Account from the Reverend the Minister of Upper Donhead near Shaftsbury; to which the Reader is referr'd as follows.