we were on the following Saturday conveyed in a small open vessel from the quay at Helvotsluis on a stormy sea, to the packet boat, which lay two miles distant at anchor; from which we were again obliged to go in an open boat to be set ashore, or rather thrown like balls by two English sailors, on the coast of Yarmouth.[1] For the vessel was almost a wreck, without a main and another of its masts. "After having crawled to one of a row of neat low houses, we found the party previously arrived from the ship devouring their breakfast; several clean-dressed women employed in cutting bread and butter (from fine wheaten loaves) as fast as ever they could. One of them went upstairs with me to help me to put on my clothes, and after taking some tea we mounted some sort of a cart to bring us to the next place where diligences going to London would pass. But we had hardly gone a quarter of an English mile when the horse, which was not used to go in what they called the shafts, ran away with us, overturning the cart with trunk and passengers. My brother, another person, and myself all throwing themselves out, I flying into a dry ditch. We all came off however, with only the fright, owing to the assistance of a gentleman who, with his servant, was accompanying us on horseback. These persons had come in the packet with us, and it was settled not to part till in London, where we arrived at noon on the 26th at an inn in the City. Here we remained till the evening of the 27th. My brother having business at the West-end of the town, left me under the care of our fellow travellers; but after his return, in the evening when the shops were lighted up, we went to see all that was to be seen in that part of London, of which I only remember the opticians' shops, for I do not think we stopped at any other.
- ↑ The other version calls it "from Helvot to Harrige" = Harwich.
