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 allowed, our improvement in the art of building ships is so considerable, our vessels are so prepared 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 will venture all the rest: and nothing is as great 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 would have passed 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 mean.
Stark calm.
Calm weather.
Little wind.
A fine breeze.
A small gale.
A fresh gale.
A topsail gale.
Blows fresh.
A hard gale of wind.
A fret of wind.
A storm.
A tempest.
Just half these tarpaulin article, I presume, would have passed in those days for a storm; and what our sailors call a top sail gale would have drove the navigators of those ages, into harbours: when our sailors reef a topsail, 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 Japanesses, the East Indians, and such like navigators were to come with their thin cockle shell barks and calico sails; if Cleopatra’s fleet, or Caesar’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 is nothing but storms and tempests; when all the matter is, the weakness of their shipping, and the ignorance of their seamen: and I make no question but our ships ride out many a worse storm than that terrible tempest which scattered Julius Caesar’s fleet, or the same that drove AEneas on the coast of Carthage.
And in modern times we have a famous instance in the Spanish Armada; which, after it rather frighted than damaged by Sir Francis Drake’s machines, not then known by the name of fire ships, were scattered by a terrible storm, and lost upon every shore.
The case is plain, it was 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 astern, 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 ruined 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 forced to keep the sea, and were driven to and fro till they had got out of their knowledge; and like men desperate, embraced 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 anything on this head before: at the same time it is allowed, and histories are full of the particulars, that we have often very high winds, and sometimes violent tempests in these northern parts of the world; but I am still of opinion, such a tempest never happened before as that which is the subject of these sheets: and I refer the reader to the particulars.
1Taken frequently for Britain.
Chapter III.
Of the Storm in general.
Before we come to examine the damage suffered by this terrible night, and give a particular relation of its dismal effects; it is necessary to give a summary account of the thing itself, with all its affrightning circumstances.
It had blown exceeding hard, as I have already observed, 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 encreased.
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 four o’clock is the afternoon the wind increased, and with squalls of rain and terrible gusts blew very furiously.
Extract from Royal Society’s Transactions.
The collector of these sheets narrowly escaped 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 followed so soon, this had passed 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 increased: and about ten o’clock, our barometers informed us that the night would be very tempestuous; the Mercury sunk lower than ever I had observed it on any occasion whatsoever, which made me suppose the tube had been handled and disturbed 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 have found me other employment, expecting every moment when the house I was in would bury us all in its own ruins; I have therefore subjoined a letter from an ingenious gentleman on this very head, directed to the Royal Society, and printed in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 289, P. 1630, 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. Andrew’s day, I here send you inclosed the account of my ingenious and inquisitive friend Richard Towneley, 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 unacceptable, 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 lbs. of rain through my tunnel: and about 6, 7, 8, or 9, lbs. 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 lbs. June likewise was a dripping month, in