apprehend, try, and punish, the riotous inhabitants of Bury in 1327, for the outrages committed by them against the abbot and convent of that town, only indicted them for a trespass, boldy proceeded against them as felons; on which they were brought to trial, and nineteen suffered death.

Elvedon gave the title of Viscount to that gal lant and distinguished Officer the Right Hon. Augustus Keppel, Admiral of the White. To the right of the village is Elvedon-Hall, long the residence of his Lordship; from whom it descended to the Rt. Hon. the Earl of Albemarle, who in 18 sold it to Richard Newton, Esq. the present possessor, who is now rebuilding the Hall.

To you, fair ladies of the field!
We sportsmen now indite;

To you our morning pleasures yield,
And think of you at night:

Tho' hares and foxes run a-pace,
'Tis beauty gives the finest chace.

The morning rose, and with a fog,
Inclos'd the heath all round;
So thick we scarce could see a dog,

Ten yards upon the ground:

Yet we to Elden took our way,

True sportsmen never mind the day.

Like Venus (if she was so fair
As antient poets feign,
With coral lip and golden hair,

Just rising from the main)

We saw the lovely Bell* appear,

Nor miss'd the sun when she was near.

* Miss Bell Shadwell, of Buxton Lodge, near Thetford.

At Elden, on a trail we hit,

And soon the hare we found,

When up she started from a pit,

And stretch'd along the ground: Hark forward! all the sportsmen cry'd, Hark forward! hills and dales reply'd.

Quite cross the country, and away
She fled in open view ;
Our huntsman was the first to say,
"She ran not but she flew:"

Whilst Billy Grigson rode and swore,
"'Twas old Mother Rogers gone before."

With pleasure Greene the chace pursu'd,
Nor wish'd for music then ;

But often as the hare he view'd,

In raptures he began :

"Tell me, ye gods! if any sounds

"Be half so sweet as t' hear the hounds."

Thus for an hour, all in full cry,

We nimbly trip along ;

Nor thought that madam was to die,
Nor we to have a song:

Says Slapp, "though now she runs so fast, "Brave boys: we'll put her down at last."

Kind fate indulg'd an hour more,
And back she turn'd again;
Such sport sure ne'er was seen before,
But all her turns were vain:

For Butler, foremost of the pack,

And Frolick seiz'd her by the back.

To Thetford then, our sport being done,
In sprits we repair;
Where Gardiner † a song began,

In honour of the fair:

And as the merry chorus rise,
We all to Shadwell* turn'd our eyes.

THE WHALE.

On Tuesday, November 5th 1816, was found of the buoy of the Rough near Harwich a dead Whale, and on the following day it was towed into the harbour. This aquatic prize was made by Jobson and Baker, of Ipswich, in company with a vessel belonging to Colchester: and as it was found beyond the jurisdictional limits of any port, it was of course the sole property of the captors. On Thursday, it was towed up the Orwell, as high as Dunham Reach, which could not have been affected but for the spring tides. On Friday, the operation of cutting up commenced; and as from the circumstances in which it was found, it was in a very fair state, the produce, it is supposed, was con

Richard Gardiner Esq. the eldest son of the Rev. John Gardiner, LL. D. Rector of great Massingham and Brunsted, in Norfolk, and Perpetual Curate of St. Gregory and St. Giles, in the City of Norwich. See" Memoirs of the Life and writings, Prose and Verse, of Richard Gardiner, Esq. alias Dick Merry-Fellow, of serious and facetious Memory! London, 1782," 8vo.

• John Shadwell, of Buxton Lodge, near Thetford, Esq.

siderable It is conjectured from 300 to 500£. It was a female; and its length was from 68 to 70 feet; and the diameter of its body about 18, Its sides were striped, or rather ribbed, so that in floating up the river, it resembled a clinker-built vessel, bottom upwards. The animal was supposed to have met with some accident, as it was materially injured on the back.

Vast numbers of people, almost the whole population of Ipswich, men, women and children, assembled on the Shore on Thursday to behold this immense native of the ocean; but in standing to the leeward of the carcase, the stench was almost intolerably offensive.

RELIEVED are our tongues from a formal routine Of remarks on the weather, and "how have you "been ;"

How kind was the wind, and how lucky the sail, That brought to our coast this astonishing WHALE.

What scandal and slander are chas'd by this creature From tea table chat, where the dullest in feature Attentively listens to ev'ry strange tale,

That is told of the different parts of this WHALE.

Old books, full of dust, from the shelves taken down,

Are read by the knowing ones all o'er the town; But they find no description of stench in the gale, That blows o'er the ooze from this putrified WHALE.

Yet pieces, as relicks, for years will be shewn,
And nurses to children will oft hand them down;
And babes, yet unborn, by their marks will reveal
Their mother's surprise, at the sight of this WHALE-

Some say 'tis a young one, at most but half
grown,
Others think from its size it has young of its own;
But wander'd from home, in our seas to regale,
'Till death clos'd its errors-unfortunate WHALE.

But be this as it may each beholder no doubt,
From its size, and its weight, its blubber, and spout,
This monster cetaceous a Sea-Monarch hails,
And all have agreed 'tis the wonder of WHALES.