About nine o’clock we had a dreadful storm of thunder, lightning, and rain, during which the main-mast of one of the Dutch East Indiamen was split, and carried away by the deck; the main-top-mast and top-gallant-mast were shivered to pieces; she had an iron spindle at the main-top-mast-head, which probably directed the stroke.  This ship lay not more than the distance of two cables’ length from ours, and in all probability we should have shared the same fate, but for the electrical chain which we had but just got up, and which conducted the lightning over the side of the ship; but though we escaped the lightning, the explosion shook us like an earthquake, the chain at the same time appearing like a line of fire:  A centinel was in the action of charging his piece, and the shock forced the musket out of his hand, and broke the rammer-rod.  Upon this occasion I cannot but earnestly recommend chains of the same kind to every ship, whatever be her destination, and I hope that the fate of the Dutchman will be a warning to all who shall read this narrative, against having an iron spindle at the mast-head.[119]

[Footnote 119:  Thunder storms are particularly frequent in this climate, especially about the ends of the monsoons, at which times scarcely an evening passes without one.  But in general, it has been remarked, they are not productive of much mischief; the reason, perhaps, why the Indiaman was not furnished in the manner recommended.  The Dutch are scarcely to be charged with want of foresight, or with inattention to their interests.  Nevertheless, the advice here given is worthy of attention, as well to them as to others.—­E.]

The next morning I attended at the council-chamber, and was told that I should have every thing I wanted.  In the mean time, the gentlemen ashore agreed with the keeper of the hotel for their lodging and board, at the rate of two rix-dollars, or nine shillings sterling a-day for each; and as there were five of them, and they would probably have many visitors from the ship, he agreed to keep them a separate table, upon condition that they should pay one rix-dollar for the dinner of every stranger, and another for his supper and bed, if he should sleep ashore.  Under this stipulation they were to be furnished with tea, coffee, punch, pipes and tobacco, for themselves and their friends, as much as they could consume; they were also to pay half a rupee, or one shilling and three-pence a-day for each of their servants.[120]

[Footnote 120:  Captain Bligh, who got to Batavia in 1739, speaks very indifferently of the hotel there.  “One of the greatest difficulties,” says he, “that strangers have to encounter, is their being obliged to live at the hotel.  This hotel was formerly two houses, which, by doors of communication, have been made one.  It is in the middle of a range of buildings more calculated for a cold country than for such a climate as Batavia.  There is no free circulation of air, and what is equally bad, it is