producing as much of this commodity in two years as England could consume in three.[1]
If all the descriptions of the storm in 1667 which have come down to us are correct, it is remarkable that a single tobacco plant survived its fury.[2] Its violence as well as its length surpassed anything of the kind observed since the settlement of the country. First, there arose a tempest of hail, in which there fell to the earth many stones as large as a turkey egg. So prodigious was the force with which these stones were propelled, that they destroyed the fruit, beat down the grass, smashed the glass in the windows, perforated the tiles in the roof, and killed many of the cattle. As soon as the hail-storm passed away the rain began to fall, and for forty days it continued with more or less steadiness, spoiling the remnant of grain which had escaped the hailstones. On the 27th of August there arose a hurricane which, for twenty-four hours, blew with unexampled fury. It began at the northeast and gradually moved around the north, until it roared directly from the west. It then veered to the southeast and there spent its force. This terrific wind was accompanied by a heavy rain, but there were no thunder and lightning. The great floods in the upper sections of the rivers were distinctly perceptible in the lower in spite of their width, and, to make the rise more destructive, the hurricane, in the beginning and at the end of its career, rolled the waters in the Bay and the mouths of the rivers back into the creeks, causing them to swell to such an unprecedented height that the families
