THE HIGHLAND LIGHT. 
149 
dollar and six cents, near high-water mark, on the still 
moist sand, just under the abrupt, caving base of the 
bank. It was of a dark slate color, and looked like a 
Hat pebble, but still bore a very distinct and handsome 
head of Louis XV., and the usual legend on the reverse, 
Sit Nomen Domini Benedictum (Blessed be the Name 
of the Lord), a pleasing sentiment to read in the sands 
of the sea-shore, whatever it might be stamped on, and 
I also made out the date, 1741. Of course, I thought 
at first that it was that same old button which I have 
found so many times, but my knife soon showed the 
silver. Afterward, rambling on the bars at low tide, I 
cheated my companion by holding up round shells (New- 
tellce) between my fingers, whereupon he quickly stripped 
and came off to me. 
In the Revolution, a British ship of war called the 
Somerset was wrecked near the Clay Pounds, and all 
on board, some hundreds in number, were taken prison¬ 
ers. My informant said that he had never seen any 
mention of this in the histories, but that at any rate he 
knew of a silver watch, which one of those prisoners by 
accident left there, which was still going to tell the story. 
But this event is noticed by some writers. 
The next summer I saw a sloop from Chatham drag¬ 
ging for anchors and chains just off this shore. Slie 
had her boats out at the work while she shuffled about 
on various tacks, and, when anything was found, drew 
up to hoist it on board. It is a singular employment, at 
which men are regularly hired and paid for their indus¬ 
try, to hunt to-day in pleasant weather for anchors which 
have been lost, — the sunken faith and hope of mariners, 
to which they trusted m vain; now, perchance, it is the 
rusry one of ^ome old pirate’s ship or Norman fisher- 
