TOWNELEY
Thus far Mr. Derham’s Letter.
It did not blow so hard till twelve o’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 o’clock, ’tis supposed, few people, that were capable of any sense of danger, were so hardy as to lie in bed. And the fury of the tempest increased 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, nobody durst quit their tottering habitations; for, whatever the danger was within doors, it was 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, though their houses were near demolished 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 could 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; though 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 received 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 everybody must have discerned it, and as the people were in their houses when they imagined 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 resolved to use so much caution in this relation as to transmit nothing to posterity without authentic vouchers, and such testimony as no reasonable man will dispute, so, if any relation came in our way, which may afford us a probability, though 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 backed with such authorities, as that the credit of it should 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 persuade us of the reality of such things which we have no other reasons to show for the probability of than what are grounded in those fears which prevail at that juncture.
Others thought they heard it thunder. ’Tis confessed, the wind, by its unusual violence made such a noise in the air as had a resemblance to thunder, and it was observed, 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 roared not very much unlike remote thunder.
And yet, though 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 country the air was seen full of meteors and vaporous fires: and in some places both thunderings 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 hardened rogues assaulted a family at Poplar, in the very height of the storm, broke into the house, and robbed them: it is observable, that the people cried thieves, and after that cried 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 possessed with, that nobody 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
