f this alarm, they found that the tide, rising above
every mark, was rushing into the town. They ascended the cliff, but the
darkness permitted only the white crest of waves to be seen, while the
roaring wind mingled its howlings in dire accord with the wild surges. The
awful hour of night, the utter inexperience of many who had never seen the
sea before, the wailing of women and cries of children added to the horror
of the tumult. All the following day the same scene continued. When the tide
ebbed, the town was left dry; but on its flow, it rose even higher than on
the preceding night. The vast ships that lay rotting in the roads were
whirled from their anchorage, and driven and jammed against the cliff, the
vessels in the harbour were flung on land like sea-weed, and there battered
to pieces by the breakers. The waves dashed against the cliff, which if in
any place it had been before loosened, now gave way, and the affrighted
crowd saw vast fragments of the near earth fall with crash and roar into
the deep. This sight operated differently on different persons. The greater
part thought it a judgment of God, to prevent or punish our emigration from
our native land. Many were doubly eager to quit a nook of ground now become
their prison, which appeared unable to resist the inroads of ocean's giant
waves.

When we arrived at Dover, after a fatiguing day's journey, we all required
rest and sleep; but the scene acting around us soon drove away such ideas.
We were drawn, along with the greater part of our companions, to the edge
of the cliff, there to listen to and make a thousand conjectures. A fog
narrowed our horizon to about a quarter of a mile, and the misty veil, cold
and dense, enveloped sky and sea in equal obscurity. What added to our
inquietude was the circumstance that two-thirds of our original number were
now waiting for us in Paris, and clinging, as we now did most painfully, to
any addition to our melancholy remnant, this division, with the tameless
impassable ocean between, struck us with affright. At length, after
loitering for several hours on the cliff, we retired to Dover Castle, whose
roof sheltered all who breathed the English air, and sought the sleep
necessary to restore strength and courage to our worn frames and languid
spirits.

Early in the morning Adrian brought me the welcome intelligence that the
wind had changed: it had been south-west; it was now north-east. The sky
was stripped bare of cloud