I was so nearly touch'd by this Accident, that I could not take so much notice as I intended of this Storm; yet I observ'd the Wind gradually to encrease from One a Clock till a Quarter after Five, or thereabouts: at which time it seem'd to be at the highest; when every Gust did not only return with greater Celerity, but also with more Force.

From about a Quarter before Six it sensibly decreas'd. I went often to the Door, at which times I observ'd, that every Gust was preceded by small Flashes, which, to my Observation, did not dart perpendicularly, but seem'd rather to skim along the Surface of the Ground; nor did they appear to be of the same kind with the common Light'ning Flashes.

I must confess I cannot help thinking that the Earth it self suffer'd some Convulsion; and that for this Reason, because several Springs, for the s.p.a.ce of 48 Hours afterwards, were very muddy, which were never known to be so by any Storm of Wind or Rain before: nor indeed is it possible, they lying so low, could be affected by any thing less than a Concussion of the Earth it self.

How far these small Hints may be of use to the more ingenious Enquirers into this matter, I shall humbly leave to their Consideration, and subscribe my self,

SIR, _Your humble Servant_, Joseph Clench,

_Apothecary in_ Jermyn _Street_, _near_ St. James's.

_Dec._ 8, 1703.

_SIR_,

This comes to let you know that I received yours in the _Downs_, for which I thank you. I expected to have seen you in _London_ before now, had we not met with a most violent Storm in our way to _Chatham_. On the 27th of the last Month, about Three of the Clock in the Morning, we lost all our Anchors and drove to Sea: about Six we lost our Rother, and were left in a most deplorable condition to the merciless Rage of the Wind and Seas: we also sprung a Leak, and drove 48 Hours expecting to perish. But it pleased G.o.d to give us a wonderful Deliverance, scarce to be parallell'd in History; for about Midnight we were drove into shoul Water, and soon after our Ship struck upon the Sands: the Sea broke over us, we expected every minute that she would drop to pieces, and that we should all be swallowed up in the Deep; but in less than two hours time we drove over the Sands, and got (without Rother or Pilot, or any Help but Almighty G.o.d's) into this Place, where we run our Ship on sh.o.r.e, in order to save our Lives: but it has pleased G.o.d also, far beyond our expectation, to save our Ship, and bring us safe off again last Night. We shall remain here a considerable while to refit our Ship, and get a new Rother. Our Deliverance is most remarkable, that in the middle of a dark Night we should drive over a Sand where a Ship that was not half our Bigness durst not venture to come in the Day; and then, without knowing where we were, drive into a narrow place where we have saved both Lives and Ship. I pray G.o.d give us all Grace to be thankful, and never forget so great a mercy.

I am,

_Your affectionate Friend and humble Servant_, _Russell_, at _Helversluce_ in _Holland_, Dec. 16. 1703. Henry Barclay.

_SIR_

According to the publick Notice, I send you two or three Observations of mine upon the late dreadful Tempest: As,

1. In the Parish of St. _Mary Cray, Kent_, a poor Man, with his Wife and Child, were but just gone out of their Bed, when the Head of their House fell in upon it; which must have kill'd them.

2. A great long Stable in the Town, near the Church, was blown off the Foundation entirely at one sudden Blast, from the West-side to the East, and cast out into the High-way, over the Heads of five Horses, and a Carter feeding them at the same time, and not one of them hurt, nor the Rack or Manger touch'd, which are yet standing to the Admiration of all Beholders.

3. As the Church at _Heyes_ received great Damage, so the Spire, with one Bell in it, were blown away over the Church yard.

4. The Minister of _South-Ash_ had a great Deliverance from a Chimney falling in upon his Bed just as he rose, and hurt only his Feet; as blessed be G.o.d, our Lives have been all very miraculously preserv'd, tho' our Buildings every where damag'd. You may depend on all, as certify'd by me,

Thomas Watts, _Vicar of_ Orpington _and St._ Mary Cray.

There are an innumerable variety of Deliverances, besides these, which deserve a Memorial to future Ages; but these are noted from the Letters, and at the Request of the Persons particularly concern'd.

Particularly, 'tis a most remarkable Story of a Man belonging to the _Mary_, a fourth Rate Man of War, lost upon the _Goodwin Sands_; and all the Ship's Company but himself being lost, he, by the help of a piece of the broken Ship, got a-board the _Northumberland_; but the Violence of the Storm continuing, the _Northumberland_ ran the same fate with the _Mary_, and coming on sh.o.r.e upon the same Sand, was split to pieces by the Violence of the Sea: and yet this Person, by a singular Providence, was one of the 64 that were delivered by a _Deal Hooker_ out of that Ship, all the rest perishing in the Sea.

A poor Sailor of _Brighthelmston_ was taken up after he had hung by his Hands and Feet on the top of a Mast 48 hours, the Sea raging so high, that no Boat durst go near him.

A Hoy run on sh.o.r.e on the Rocks in _Milford_ Haven, and just splitting to pieces (as by Captain _Soam_'s Letter) a Boat drove by, being broke from another Vessel, with no body in it, and came so near the Vessel, as that two Men jumpt into it, and sav'd their Lives: the Boy could not jump so far, and was drowned.

Five Sailors shifted three Vessels on an Island near the _Humber_ and were at last sav'd by a Long-boat out of the fourth.

A Waterman in the River of _Thames_ lying asleep in the Cabbin of a Barge, at or near _Black-Fryers_, was driven thro' Bridge in the Storm, and the Barge went of her self into the _Tower-Dock_, and lay safe on sh.o.r.e; the Man never wak'd, nor heard the Storm, till 'twas Day; and, to his great Astonishment, he found himself safe as above.

Two Boys in the _Poultry_ lodging in a Garret or Upper-room, were, by the Fall of Chimneys, which broke thro' the Floors, carried quite to the bottom of the Cellar, and receiv'd no Damage at all.

_SIR_,

At my Return home on _Sat.u.r.day_ at Night, I receiv'd yours: and having said nothing in my last concerning the Storm, I send this to tell you, that I hear of nothing done by it in this Country that may seem to deserve a particular Remark. Several Houses and Barns were stript of their Thatch, some Chimneys and Gables blown down, and several Stacks of Corn and Hay very much dispers'd; but I hear not of any Persons either kill'd or maim'd. A Neighbour of ours was upon the Ridge of his Barn endeavouring to secure the Thatch, and the Barn at that instant was overturn'd by the Storm; but by the good Providence of G.o.d, the Man received little or no harm. I say no more, not knowing of any thing more remarkable. I am sorry that other Places were such great Sufferers, and I pray G.o.d avert the like Judgments for the future. I am

_Your real Friend to serve you_, _Orby_, Dec. 18. 1703. Hen. Marshal.

_SIR_,

I have no particular Relation to make to you of any Deliverance in the late Storm, more than was common with me to all the rest that were in it: but having, to divert melancholly Thoughts while it lasted, turn'd into Verse the CXLVIII Psalm to the 9th, and afterwards all the Psalm; I give you leave to publish it with the rest of those Memoirs on that Occasion you are preparing for the Press.

SIR, _Your_, &c.

Henry Squier.

I. Verse 1, 2

_Hallelujah: From Heav'n The tuneful Praise begin; Let Praise to G.o.d be giv'n Beyond the Starry Scene: Ye Angels sing His joyful Praise; Your Voices raise Ye swift of Wing._

II. 3, 4

_Praise him, thou radiant Sun, The Spring of all thy Light; Praise him thou changing Moon, And all the Stars of Night:_ _Ye Heav'ns declare His glorious Fame; And waves that swim Above the Sphere._

III. 5, 6

_Let all his Praises sing, His Goodness and his Power, For at his Call they spring, And by his Grace endure; That joins 'em fast, The Chain is fram'd, Their Bounds are nam'd, And never past._

IV. 7, 8

_Thou Earth his Praise proclaim, Devouring Gulfs and Deeps; Ye Fires, and fire-like Flame, That o'er the Meadows sweeps; Thou rattling Hail, And flaky Snow, And Winds that blow To do his Will._

V. 9, 10

_Ye Prodigies of Earth, And Hills of lesser size, Cedars of n.o.bler Birth, And all ye fruitful Trees; His Praises show All things that move, That fly above, Or creep below._

VI. 11, 12

_Monarchs, and ye their Praise, The num'rous Mult.i.tude; Ye Judges, Triumphs raise; And all of n.o.bler Blood: Of ev'ry kind, And ev'ry Age, Your Hearts engage, In Praises join'd._

VII. 13, 14

_Let all his glorious Name Unite to celebrate; Above the Heaven's his Fame; His Fame that's only great: His Peoples Stay And Praise is He, And e're will be: Hallelujah._

The two following Letters, coming from Persons in as great Danger as any could be, are plac'd here, as proper to be call'd Deliverances of the greatest and strangest kind.

_From on board a Ship blown out of the_ Downs _to_ Norway.

_SIR_,

I cannot but write to you of the Particulars of our sad and terrible Voyage to this Place. You know we were, by my last, riding safe in the _Downs_, waiting a fair Wind, to make the best of our way to _Portsmouth_, and there to expect the _Lisbon_ Convoy.