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; A stranger, in manhood and gallantry's pride, What pages mysterious has fate to unfold? *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 portrait of this unfortunate nobleman, drawn by an un rivalled statesman lately deceased, see "Fox's History of the reign of Charles 11." p. 259 273. See also "Lord Clarendon's Life," vol. 2. p. 206. "Memoirs of Count Grammont," Vol 3. p. 161. 165 251. 253 and for many curious particulars of the family of scot, see the Notes to Walter Scot's inimitable Poem of the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," That his marriage of boyhood illegal shall prove, Ah Monmouth! brave Monmouth! thy glories are fled; And low in the dust lies thy blood-streaming head ! The mourner is paler than him whom she mourns, 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, a space of about 30 miles, 120 dead bodies were cast ashore; and 80 sail of fishing, with 70 other boats were lost. Out of 150 ships, that were blown out of the roads, 33 were totally lost, with nearly half their crews. Nor was the destruction, occasioned by this violent storm, confined to the sea alone, although the effects of its fury were there displayed in all the excess of horror. Trees, buildings, windmills, &c. were blown down; and upwards of 400 sheep were drowned by the sea having forced the banks of the marshes. THOU merciless wind, how many like myself, Hourly thou drivest the floating carcases On Yarmouth's shore, and with a dreadful voice Stoops to receive the filial corse, flung up The Power that could have quell'd the mutinous seas: Hope o'er the strong conflicting passions sits, 66 Yes, thou didst promise thou wouldst soon return; And is it thus thou keep'st thy word? ye floods, When ye did stifle-in that breath, more dear To me than all the wealth you ever bore, Could ye not see? not feel? not hear the groan To kiss those lips, and in thine arms to find Blown by some adverse wind from friends, who seek |