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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.
DAM.
Walking alone by pleasant Isis side
Where the two Streams their wanton course divide,
And gently forward in soft Murmurs glide;
Pensive and sad I Melibæus meet,
And thus the melancholy Shepherd greet.
Kind Swain, what Cloud dares overcast your brow,
Bright as the Skies o're happy Nile till now!
Does Chloe prove unkind, or some new Fair?
MEL.
No Damon, mine's a publick, nobler, Care;
Such in which you and all the World must share. 10
One Friend may mollifie another's Grief,
But publick Loss admits of no relief.
DAM.
I guess your Cause: O you that use to sing
Of Beauty's Charms and the Delights of Spring;
Now change your Note, and let your Lute rehearse
The dismal Tale in melancholy Verse.
MEL.
Prepare then, lovely Swain; prepare to hear,
The worst Report that ever reach'd your Ear.
My Bower you know, hard by yon shady Grove,
A fit Recess for Damon's pensive Love: 20
As there dissolv'd I in sweet Slumbers lay,
Tir'd with the Toils of the precedent Day,
The blust'ring Winds disturb my kind Repose,
Till frightned with the threatning Blasts, I rose.
But O, what havock did the Day disclose!
Those charming Willows which on Cherwel's banks
Flourish'd, and thriv'd, and grew in evener ranks
Than those which follow'd the Divine Command
Of Orpheus Lyre, or sweet Amphion's Hand,
By hundreds fall, while hardly twenty stand. 30
The stately Oaks which reach'd the azure Sky,
And kiss'd the very Clouds, now prostrate lie.
Long a huge Pine did with the Winds contend;
This way, and that, his reeling Trunk they bend,
Till forc'd at last to yield, with hideous Sound
He falls, and all the Country feels the Wound.
Nor was the God of Winds content with these;
Such humble Victims can't his Wrath appease:
The Rivers swell, not like the happy Nile,
To fatten, dew, and fructifie our Isle:40
But like the Deluge, by great Jove design'd
To drown the Universe, and scourge Mankind.
In vain the frighted Cattel climb so high,
In vain for Refuge to the Hills they fly;
The Waters know no Limits but the Sky.
So now the bleating Flock exchange in vain,
For barren Clifts, their dewy fertil Plain:
In vain, their fatal Destiny to shun,
From Severn's Banks to higher Grounds they run.
Nor has the Navy better Quarter found; 50
There we've receiv'd our worst, our deepest Wound.
The Billows swell, and haughty Neptune raves,
The