ware that a French
squadron was not far-off; and we were kept constantly on the look-out in
the unpleasant expectation of falling in with them, and having to take
to flight or of undergoing a still worse fate, and of falling into their
hands. Many people, in my day especially, had an idea that ships were
fated to be lucky or unlucky, either because they were launched on a
Friday, or that their keel was laid on a Friday, or that they were
cursed when building or when about to sail, or had a Jonas on board, or
for some other equally cogent reason. I always found that a bad captain
and master and a careless crew was the Jonas most to be dreaded, and
that to ill-fit and ill-find a ship was the worst curse which could be
bestowed on her. I should have been considered a great heretic if I had
publicly expressed such opinions in my younger days; indeed, I probably
did not think of them as I do now. The Charon was considered a lucky
ship, or, in other words, Captain Symonds was a careful commander, and
so few on board had any fear of our falling in with an overpowering
enemy or meeting with any other mishap. They could not as yet be proved
to be wrong; the gale abated on the 28th. The following day the weather
became moderate and fair, and we rejoined the fleet off the capes at the
entrance of the Chesapeake. We found the squadron augmented by the
arrival of two or three ships from the West India station. These were
to have joined to take part in the operations about to be commenced, but
the terrific hurricane which had lately raged over those regions had
either totally destroyed or disabled so many, that no others were then
in a fit condition to proceed to our assistance. Several of the
officers came on board of us, among them many old friends of mine, and
from them I gathered some accounts of that tremendous visitation.
It first broke on the Island of Jamaica, at the little seaport town of
Savannah-la-Mer. That hapless place, with the adjacent country, was
almost entirely overwhelmed by the sea, which rushed in over it with
tremendous force, driven on by the fury of a tempest whose force has
rarely been surpassed. The gale began at about one o'clock in the
afternoon from the south-east, increasing in violence till four p.m.,
when it veered to the south, then reaching its height, and continued
thus till eight, when it began to abate. Terrible was the havoc
committed in these few hours. The waves, raised to a heigh
|