heaven. Still on the next day the storm was raging and the heavy sea also continued, and this threatened to break the ships to pieces; but the clouds broke, the great downfall of rain ceased, the air became clear, the wind subsided, and in the evening at 10 o’clock the storm had stopped entirely—only the seething waters were still roaring and placed the ships in even greater danger. It was not until the morning of the 30th that this violent sea had spent its fury; sound sleep reinvigorated exhausted nature; and when the soldiers and sailors awoke to the beautiful day and looked out upon the glittering, smooth, quiet sea, and saw how little by little the ships drew closer together, they each and everyone felt as if they had awakened to a new day of creation. The kitchen fires were again glowing, the kettles were steaming, the provisions, clothing and bed linen, all so thoroughly wet through, were dried, everywhere repairs were undertaken, the masts were again properly set up, and the sails spread; on the decks praises to God were sung with fervent feelings of gratitude in devout meetings of prayer.

The religious, sympathetic feelings certainly prevail in the deeply rooted piety of our (Hessian) people. It was customary on all ships that as often as the weather and the motion of the vessel permitted it, a prayer meeting should be held every morning and every evening and a preaching service on Sundays. Though not obliged to attend, yet one could regularly see the soldierly religious congregation assembled, standing with uncovered heads and filled with devotion, drawn thither by the inner voice of conscience. If the sea were rough then one could hear the people from their resting places starting up religious hymns. Communion with God was necessary for the soul; more urgently did the present remind of eternity, and the very recent past give grounds for gratitude. The ordinary man had in lieu of other songs learned to sing his religious hymns at school, and he sang these even during his march against the enemy. It was not a book of epic poems that accompanied him on his expeditions, it was a small book of prayer, which even now is a chief constituent part of the small bookshops of the Hessian peasant-folk, so precious to him because of the divine power of its influence, to his mind a pure, old, genuine “Jesus wine.” This was the well known “Habermännchen,” the epic poem and the private chapel of the warrior as well as of the serving man. And not alone with the exalted spectacle of divine omnipotence on the furious or rapturous sea—but even in the camps and quarters the masses of soldiers did not neglect public worship any more than they neglected a simple military duty. So with the ancient fear of God of the patriarchs in their hearts the Hessian people landed on the soil of America.

The dispersion of the fleet had obliged a halt of three days, during which time the frigates sailed in all directions, collecting the ships by means of cannon shots, yet this was not entirely successful; fifteen battered ships had opened their sealed orders and had sailed on ahead to Halifax, the goal designated therein. The contrary winds prevented the advance of the fleet. It appeared in great grandeur on the 4th of June; this was the birthday of King George III. In unusual splendor did the day shine, on all vessels the red English flag was waving, on all war ships and all frigates, twenty-one cannon shots resounded at noon and the transport ships were only too glad to follow with their joyful celebrations. But on the ship Unanimity an unfortunate pistol shot was fired in the morning. A captain of the life-guards, Count von der Lippe, offended one of his subordinates, Lieutenant Kleinschmidt, because he, though accidentally, had caused his dog to give a cry of pain, and with coarse words demanded an immediate pistol duel without witnesses. The