"last past he had not lived in any sin that he knew of; "and that he was sure when he died to go to God; "and therefore he did not fear death, which they might see in his face."

Lady Wentworth is said to have died broken-hearted, in consequence of his untimely end. It is certain, however, that she survived his execution but a few months, and was buried at Toddington, under a costly monument, on which is the following inscription:

Sacred to the memory of the Right Honourable the Lady Henrietta Maria, Baroness Wentworth, who died unmarried April the 23rd, 1686 She was sole daughter and heir of the Right Honourable Thomas, Lord Wentworth, buried here the 7th of March, 1664, by Philadelphia his wife, daughter of Sir Ferdinando Cary, Knt. who was interred near her husband the 9th of May, 1695. And grand-daughter and heir of the Right Honourable Thomas, Earl of Cleveland, Lord Wentworth, and Lord Wentworth of Nettlestead, &c. also buried here April the 4th, 1667.

Several great grand-children of this unhappy connection are living, and inherit the characteristic features, and personal beauty of their ancestors. May they inherit happier fortunes! There is a fine whole length portrait of this Lady engraved by R. Williams from a Painting of Sir G. Kneller.

On the death of Lady Wentworth, the Barony descended to her aunt, Anne, the daughter of Thomas, Earl of Cleveland, and the wife of John, Lord Lovelace.

THROUGH the echoing covert the bugle resounds,
The shouts of the chase, and the cry of the hounds;
And, gallantly riding, the hunters are seen
In bonnets, and feathers, aud surcoats of green:

Bp. Lloyd's Letter to Bp. Fell, relating to the Duke of Monmouth, written the day after the execution of that unfortunate nobleman." Letters from the Bodleian Library," vol. 1. p. 26.

The merry lord Lovelace* is leading them all
To feast with his cousin in Nettlestead Hall §

He was the only son of John, the 2nd Lord Lovelace, by the Lady Anne, daughter of Thomas, the 1st Earl of Cleveland. He was an early friend to the Revolution; but as he was going to join the Prince of Orange with a considerable force, was made priso ner. On the accession, however, of William to the throne, this nobleman was made captain of the band of pensioners. He lived in a most prodigal and splendid stile, which involved him in such difficulties, that a great part of his estates, were sold, under a decree of chancery, to pay his debts. He married Margery one of the daughters and coheirs of Sir Edmund Pye, of Bradenham, in the county of Bucks, Bart. by whom he had a son John, who died an infant; and three daughters, Anne, Martha, and Catherine; whereof the first and last died before their father S. P. and his Lordship dying without issue male in 1693, the Barony of Went worth descended to his only surviving daughter Martha, in 1697, on the demise of her grandmother the Lady Anne Lovelace.

The Lordship of Nettlestead belonged to the Earls of Richmond and Brittany from the time of the Norman conquest to the 17. of Hen. II. when Conan the last Earl died. Sir Peter Mauclere, who married Alice, the daughter of Constance, the only daughter and heiress of Conan, by Guy de Thouars, had livery of this Lordship and Manor in the 15. of Hen. III. By a special Charter, dated May 1. 1241, these, with other estates, were given by Henry the III. to Peter de Savoy, the queen's uncle, who, dying without issue, left them to that Princess. This Lordship was soon afterwards granted to Robert de Tibetot, in consideration of his adherence to the king against his rebellious barons, and who died here in the 25. of Edw. 1. From him it was transmitted to his descendants; when in the 46. of Edw. III. Robert de Tibetot, dying without issue male, left three daughters his coheirs; viz. Margaret, Milicent, and Elizabeth, who were then in minority, and given in ward to Rich. ard le Scrope of Bolton, who disposed of Margaretto Roger le Scrope, his eldest son, Milicent to Stephen, his third son, and Elizabeth to Philip le Despencer, the younger. Which daughters, in the 9. of Rd. III. making proof of their respective ages, had livery of their lands; in the partition whereof, the Lordship and manor of Nettlestead became vested in Philip le Despencer. From his only daughter and heir Margery, married first to John Lord Roos, and afterwards in 1450 to Sir Roger Wentworth, the same was brought into that family; the representative of which, in the 21. of Hen VIII. was summonded to Parliament by writ, as Lord Wentworth. of Nettlesteud; to which honor Charles I. added the Earldom of Cleveland. In this family the Lordship of Nettlestead continued till about the year 1643, when Thomas, the 1st Earl of Cleveland sold it to William Lodge, a Citizen of London, it afterwards be longed to Mr. John Fuller, of Ipswich, whose only daughter and heiress carried it by marriage into the family of Bradley; from that family it came to the late General Phillipson, and is now the property of Mr. Lionel Henry Moore, by whom it was purchased in 1813.

Till within these few years past, a very considerable portion of the Old Hall was remaining in its pristine state. It is situated near the Church, and was formerly surrounded by a wall, a great part of which is still existing. The gateway still remains; and on the spandriis of the arch are two shields, sculptured with the Wentworth arms and other numerous quarterings. The mansion has been lately modernized and new fronted by the present proprietor. Several of the Lodge Family are buried in the Church.

That cousin is wealthy, that cousin is fair,

Is Wentworth's, and Cleveland's, and Nettlestead's heir ;

Her smile is the sunshine of innocent youth;
Her heart is the throne of affection and truth;
Her dark glossy ringlets luxuriantly flow,
Contrasting and arching her forehead of snow:
This flowret of beauty and sweetness they call
Henrietta, the Lily of Nettlestead Hall!

A stranger, in manhood and gallantry's pride,
The merry lord Lovelace has placed by her side:
Forbidden his station and name to disclose,
He calls him "Sir Alured, knight of the rose:"
How winning his graces and courtesy prove!
His ardent affection soon fixes her love,
And, secretly, wedlock's soft fetters enthral
The delicate Lily of Nettlestead Hall,

What pages mysterious has fate to unfold?
Her husband is Monmouth,* the royal and bold,
And he, whom she trusted as loyal and true,
Had previously wedded the heir of Buccleugh :
At her feet in despondence and agony thrown,
He swears that his faith and his vows are her own,

*James, Duke of Monmouth and Buccleugh, the eldest natural son of Charles the IInd by Mrs Lucy Walters, the daughter of Richard Walters, of Haverford-West in the county of Pembroke, Esq. He was born at Rotterdam, and bore the name of James Crofts till his Majesty's Restoration. His creation to the title of Duke of Monmouth was to grace his nuptials with the Lady Anne, the daughter and, sole heir of Francis, Earl of Buccleugh, who was then esteemed the greatest fortune and the finest woman, in the three king. doms. Being married, he took the surname of Scott; and he and his lady were created Duke and Duchess of Buccleugh, &c. For a spirited porbit of this unfortunate nobleman, drawn by an un rivalled statesman lately deceased, see "Fox's History of the reign of Charles II." p. 269 273. See also "Lord Clarendon's Life," vol. 2. p. 206. "Memoirs of Count Graumont," Vol. 3. p. 161. 165. 251. 253: and for many curious particulars of the family of scot, see the Notes to Walter Scot's iniinitable Poem of the "Lay of the Last Minstrel,"

That his marriage of boyhood illegal shall prove,
And heav'n seal the union of nature and love.
Affections so mated, O! say, can they part?
She yields to that eloquent pleader the heart,
Deciding, through changes of climate and state,
To share unrepining his fortune and fate:
Remov'd from her native, her fostering shades,
Untimely the Lily of Nettlestead fades.

Ah Monmouth! brave Monmouth! thy glories are fled;

And low in the dust lies thy blood-streaming head!
Those lips still seem warm with the redolent breath,
Those eyelids, like violets, lovely in death;
With no fond awaking again shall they move,
Though nurs'd on thy Lily's soft bosom of love!
As still to his image her fancy returns,

The mourner is paler than him whom she mourns,
And calm are her features, and calm is her air,
All fix'd in the sadness of settled despair;
No sigh swells her breast, and no tear-drop her eyes,
But blighted, the Lily of Nettlestead dies.

ON THE

Unfortunate Seamen,

Who were Wrecked on the Coasts of Suffolk and Norfolk, October 31, 1789.

BY P. HOMER.

A few minutes before four in the morning, one of the most violent squalls of wind from the North East came on, that had ever been remembered. As it com

menced not less suddenly than violently, it was the occasion of a scene, almost too dreadful for description. A large fleet of ships was lying in the Yarmouth Roads, several of which being driven from their anchors, and running foul of each other, the greatest confusion ensued. Some foundered, and many lost their masts ; whilst others were obliged either to slip or cut their cables, and run to the Southward, which luckily for them, on account of the quarter from which the gale blew, they were able to accomplish without much danger, so that two only were forced on shore to the Southward of the harbour. The case, however, of those vessels, which were caught by the storm to the Northward of the Cockle-Sand, was infinitely more distressing and fatal. Those that were at anchor, waiting for the light to enter the Roads, were, almost every one of them, forced to quit their anchors by the violence of the wind, or by other ships coming athwart them; some sunk instantly upon their striking against each other ; others perished the moment they were driven on the sand; some, having been beaten over the Cockle, either went down in deep water, or fell upon the Barber ; and several met their fate on the shore. Ships from the Northward were every moment coming in, some with every sail split, and hanging like so many pennants; others with one mast only standing; some with nothing but a small piece of torn canvas fastened to the remaining stumps of their masts; others with all their boats and anchors washed away, making signals of distress, and in a perfectly unmanageable state driving through the Roads at the mercy of the waves, and at last sinking in the sight of hundreds of spectators.

The immense damage, done by this storm on the coast of Suffolk and Norfolk, was shocking beyond expression. Indeed, the whole coast exhibited a scene the most awful and distressing. Ships dismasted at anchor; others scudding before the wind without any canvas to set; and wrecks of ships, that had been lost on the sands, floating in every direction. Between Southwold and Yarmouth, a space of only 25 miles, 40 ships were ashore. Between Yarmouth and Cromer,