THE CHESAPEAKE
During the whole of this day the wind was light and unsteady, consequently little progress was made, nor did the white rocks of Bermuda disappear till darkness concealed them; but towards morning a fresher and more favourable breeze springing up, the rest of the voyage was performed in reasonable time, and without the occurrence of any incident worthy of notice. The heat, indeed, became more and more oppressive every day, and the irksomeness of renewed confinement was more sensibly experienced from the long holiday which we had enjoyed on shore; but, in other respects, everything returned to its former state, till towards evening on the 14th, when a signal was made by the Admiral that land was in sight. As yet, however, there was no appearance of it from the deck of our transport, nor for a full half-hour could our anxious gaze be rewarded by the slightest trace of what it sought; but at the end of that time the low sandy point of Cape Charles began to show itself, and we rejoiced in the prospect of a speedy release from the ennui of a seafaring life.
The coast of America, at least in this quarter, is universally low and uninteresting; insomuch, that for some time before the land itself can be discerned, forests of pines appear to rise, as it were, out of the water. It is also dangerous from the numerous shoals and sandbanks which run out in many places to a considerable extent into the sea, and which are so formidable that no master of a vessel, unless he chance to be particularly well acquainted with the navigation, will venture to approach after dark. The fleet was accordingly anchored within a few miles of the shore, but no sooner had the day begun to break than the sails were again hoisted, and the ships, steering under the influence of a leading wind, between the Capes Charles and Henry, stood in gallant style up the Chesapeake.
This noble bay is far too wide, and the land on each side too flat, to permit any but an indistinct glimpse of the shore from the deck of a vessel which keeps well towards the middle. On the present occasion we could distinguish nothing, on either hand, except the tops of trees, with occasionally a windmill or a lighthouse; but the view of our own fleet was in truth so magnificent as to prevent any murmuring on that account. Immediately on entering, we were joined by Admiral Cockburn with three line-of-battle ships, several frigates, and a few sloops of war and gun-brigs, by which means the squadron could now muster above twenty vessels entitled to display the pendant, besides an equal if not a greater number of victuallers and transports. Nor were we strengthened by this addition in the naval part of the expedition alone. On board these ships was embarked a powerful reinforcement for the army, consisting of a battalion of seven hundred marines, a hundred negroes lately armed and disciplined, and a division of marine artillery, so that we could now calculate on landing a corps of at least four thousand men. The spectacle was therefore as agreeable and imposing as might be; because we could not help remembering that this magnificent fleet was sailing in an enemy’s bay, and that it was filled with troops for the invasion of that enemy’s country. Thus, like a snowball, we had gathered as we went on, and from having set out a mere handful of soldiers, were now become an army, formidable as well from its numbers as its discipline.
The shoals and sandbanks which abound on the outside of the bay, continue to encumber the navigation after it is entered, and the fleet was in consequence compelled to anchor every night. This proceeding unavoidably occasioned much delay. The first day’s sail carried us only to the mouth of the James river, and the second to the mouth of the Potomac; but, on both occasions, we brought up at too great a distance from the beach to permit perfect or distinct view of either of these rivers. Opposite to the latter, indeed, we remained for a night and a considerable part of the following day, and the sky being remarkably clear, we saw something more of it than we had been able to see of the other river. It appeared to be a fine piece of water making its way through the centre of huge forests, and, though the current is in reality strong, flowing on without any apparent motion. But it would have been impossible to trace its course, even had we been nearer to the shore, above a few miles, on account of its numerous windings, the first of which, overshadowed as it is with wood, shuts it out from further observation. By continuing here so long, we had begun to conjecture that a landing somewhere on the banks of this river was in contemplation. In this, however, we were deceived, for about one o’clock the fleet was again under sail, and moving towards the Patuxent, a river which empties itself into the bay, several miles above the Potomac.