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POHTRJT.
MEMORY.
BY W. LEGGF.TT, E6R.
When memory paints, with pencil true,
The scenes where youth delighte t roved,
She throws o’er none so sweet a hue
As robes the home of her t loved.
Each tree, each flower, that flourished
there,
In former beauty seems to wave;
I seem to breath" mv native air,
’MkI friends who’re sleeping in the grave.
But soon these sha les of joy depart,
And present sorrows start tc view—
Memory, like Hope, still mocks the heart
With visions sweet—but fleeting too!
But faith points out your radiant heaven,
And bids the mourner not despair;
Whispering, “afflictions are but given
“Like angel-wings to wait you there!”
THE EVENING HOUR.
There is an hour when memory dwells,
On blissful scenes too bright to last;
The heart beats high—the bosom swells
With recollections of the past.
’Tis when the shades of evening rest
Their pall upon the glowing west,
Ahd shroud in gloom each brilliant ray
Whose union lights the smile of day.
Calm evening hour, thv mellow tone
Awakes to light each slumbering bliss—
That hast around my boyhood shone
As pure and warm as love’s first kiss—
Oh! joys that were, and pleasure’s gleam
Are sunk in cold oblivion’s stream;
Still, still I dwell with fond regret
On scenes I never can forget.
MISCELLANEOUS.
INTERESTING ADVENTURES
OF TWO FEMALES WITH THEIR EIGHT
CHILDREN.
From the Albany Daily Adv. March 27.
"Messrs. Editors —The following
highly interesting, and we think ad
mirably well told tale, from the Johns
town Republican, youwill oblige us by
inserting in your columns. Some
farther portion of this “strange event
ful history” we shall subjoin, although
apprehensive our feeble pen will fail
in doing justice to the sequel.
“0 woman in ordiuary cases so
mere a mortal, how, in the great and
rare events of life, dost thou swell
into the angel!”—exclaims a late po
pular writer. The opinion has been
expressed by many before him, and
history bears on its page some splen
did proofs of its justness. Romance
also has often adopted and gilded for
the theme of its tale the heroic en
durance or achievement or generosity
of woman, and the Roman (or Gre
cian) daughter, Elizabeth, in the
“Exile of Siberia,” and the heroine
of “The Heart of Mid Lothian” are
but the portraits which commemorate
some scenes of real life.—Numerous,
however, as are the recorded proofs
of woman’s capability of greatness,
they bear but small proportion to its
thousand exertions which have passed
unnoticed to oblivion, and perhaps the
finest and truest displays of female
heroism have been in humble or in
private life, when the heart made its
effort or its sacrifice unprompted by
the hope of eclat and unsustained by
the certainty of fame.
A case came under my observation
last week wnieh, for its display of
patient fortitude, untiring persever
ance, and deep and cruel sufferings,
as well as the melancholy interest
which it excited, has few or no par
allels. The tale is not long, and if
you choose, Mr. Editor, you may tell
it all—the subjects of it well deserve
such praise as we can give them.
Two brothers, whose wives also
were sisters, resided near Glasgow,
in Scotland, and on the fruits of their
industry in their lucrative and respect
able occupation (they were Calico
printers) supported their families in
comfort and ease, and were enabled
to give their eight children all the ad
vantages of mental and. religious in
struction, for which the better class
of tradesmen particularly are so dis
tinguished in that country. The dis
tress, however, which for years has
- pervadpd the manufacturing districts
of Great Britain extended at last to
them, and continued its visitations un
til their prospects were destroyed,
and their perseverance exhausted.
Denied all hopes of better times, they
resolved in despair to abandon an oc
cupation which no longer repaid their
toil, and in June last they embarked
with their families for Canada, with
the purpose of purchasing and culti
vating land.
They settled in the town of Ram
sey, 20tt miles above Montreal, and
there soon found, in the task of
building their log hut, and clearing
their heavily timbered new land, that
they were entirely unfitted for, ?nd
unequal to, the duties and labours of
their new vocation. Provisions were
dear and scarce, the climate was se
vere, and their fund of money was al
most exhausted; a hard winter ivas
before them, and—looking on tleir
wives and children, who had thus far
endured their privations patiently, if
not cheerfully—they resolved with
the advice of their few neighbours, to
cross into “the States,” and seek
their employmentCin some of the^new
manufactories. They started on the
loth November, expecting to send in
a short time for their families, which
they were leaving but slenderly pro
vided. It was not, however; until the
10th of February, that a letter reach
ed its anxious expectants, stating that
they had at length found employment
at Fall River in Massachusetts, and
would send for their families so soon
ns they had earned the means.
But for this their families could not
wait—they were sinking under the
pressure of evils among which the
“hope delayed” counted but as tri
fling. The sum of money which the
husbands had been able to leave them
was hut small, and the scarcity of
provisions prevailing in the incipient
settlement was shared by them even
to extremity; to absolute hunger—the
crevices and seams of their log hut
were but partially closed, aud admit
ted the snow at every blast of the
wind. Arniud hunger and cold and
the cries of their children, their
thoughts often turned to their own
pleasant home by the Water of Lev-
en. The few and distant neighbors
gave them no assistance, for they did
not know their wants-“we had not any
means of repaying obligations, said one
of them to me, “and sac did we nae
like to ask them!”—and these two
women, who in their own country had
perhaps never seen an axe, were o-
bliged, standing to the knees in snow,
to cut down with their own hands the
trees from which they obtained fuel
for the fire around which their chil
dren shivered. ,
This could not endure longer, and
in good time had the letter arrived.
They knew then where their hus
band's were, and resolved to go to
them. A sleigh was engaged, and
their little preparations soon made
But the snow threatening to break
up, the man dared not venture upon
the long journey and refused to go!
This was a cruel stroke; the cup of
their affliction had long been full, and
this last drop might well have caused
its waters of bitterness to overflow—
for no pangs cut so sorely as those of
disappointed, hope. They had now
no choice but to endure as they had
endured, or to attempt the journey on
foot. The first seemed impossible;
and besides these children and their
mothers loved the fathers and hus
bands from whom they were separat
ed. The prospect for the latter also
might well appal the stoutest heart—
the distance was nearly 500 miles—
winter was at its depth—of money
they had but four dollars, and there in
the woods their clothing would sell
for nothing, (their furniture had been
chiefly left at Montreal,! and to crown
the whole they had eight childrcti of
whom the eldest had not reached her
10th year.
In despite however of these fearful
difficulties, these two heroic females
bent up their hearts to the under
taking, and on the 18th day of Feb
ruary commenced on foot their toil
some journey. Each carried an in
fant at the breast with a bundle of
clothing—the eldest girl, Sarah,
carried on her shoulders her sister j>(
18 months, and the other 3 girls and
2 boys, aged from 3 to eight years,
trudged along as well as their little
feet could carry them. From the
18th of Feb. until the 12th of March,
when they arrived in this place, the
weather had been peculiarly incle
ment—many days were severely’cold,
there were two deep falls of snow’,
and constant high winds, and for the
two last days they had come under a
cold rain. Their course had been
entirely on retired roads, which be
ing little travelled were but imper
fectly beaten. Their slender stock
of money had been long since expend
ed, and they were forced to rely up
on such scanty charity as their ap
pearance elicited (for they never ask
ed any) and their number made even
that less efficient. But mid snow
and storm, in hunger and cold, they
stjll pressed on.—There was no day
in which they did not make some,
prbgress-they slept wherothey could,
and fed when it was offered, and the
protection of that Providence which
tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,
& their own stiong hearts has brought
them thus far. Little Sarah, who
carried her sister, suffered much,
with the soreness from that cause,
of her shoulders, and two others had
their faces frost-bitten; but although
worn' and wearied with the toils Of
their journey,they were well in health;
and their spirits were high in the in
creasing hope of soon meeting the
husbands and fathers whbqi they
sought. They had several times
been carried forward a few miles by
humane persons, ahd thus got over
perhaps 35 of 240 miles which they
had passed. . .
Strange as it may seem, and dark
as is the fact, for the many towns
through which they passed, this was
the first place where any efficient
assistance was afforded to them.
the few days of their stay
here, they were comfortably housed
and fed. Their deficiencies of cloth
ing were supplied, a stock of whole
some provision was prepared, a sleigh
was sent with them to Albany, where
they were sure, from the letters
which they carried, of further as
sistance, and a sum of money was
given them besides, which would bear
them on their way. The simple
gratitude and honest pride of their
“kindly” Scotch hearts were equally
apparent:—‘Thank you, thank you
—‘may Heaven itself bless you!”
would they say, “but don’t if you
please—we would rather not take
more than just for the expenses, leave
it for the poor who need it more!”
—It was a pleasant sight when, with
their thankful hearts beartiing in their
happy faces, they set off over the icy
road in a sleigh,with the children com
fortably wrapped up, to join soon the
fathers of their love.
My story, sir, is done—but I wish
to ask you—is there one man in a
thousand^ do not speak of woman
of them there may be many)who with
even one child could have performed
that journey as they did? Would he
not an hundred times have fainted in
exhaustion and despair?—The heart
of woman only, swelling into heroism
in the time of her trial, could have
endured it.
I believe that I have omitted to
tell you the name of the subject, of
my story—it is-Dykes. AndJeannie
Deans, the celebrated heroine of
Scott’s tale, the Heart of Mid Lothan,
who walked from Edingburgh to Lon
don at mid-summer, with money in
her pouch for all her expenses, to beg
from the King the pardon of her con
demned sister, was made a heroine
upon less than half the courage, the
perseverance and the toilsome suffer
ing which appertain to my Mrs. Dykes
—though I confess that of the two she
was the more fortdnate in her histori
an.
I airij sir, respectfully, yours, &c.
Johnstown, March 16, 1829.
On the arrival of this interesting
family in our city, the letters furnish
ed them in Johnstown were delivered;
a special meeting of the St. Andrew’s
Society called, and although numer
ous applications, throughout this long
and severe winter, had nearly ex
hausted the treasury, a sum as large
receipt of this letter he instantly
started, in his anxiety to proceed o n
his journey, he passed through Albany
without any inquiry;, and in like man
ner through Johnstown;-fortunately in
arriving in the next town, he found
he had missed the stage, and although
lie knew it was adding nothing to his
progress, as he must be overtaken
by the next stage, he determined to
continue his journey on foot; such was
the restless anxiety of his mind to
press forward to the relief of those
so dear to him. We say fortunately,
for here he overtook a fellow travel
ler, who, in the course of conversation
enquired the state of the roads to the
Eastward, expressing anxiety on ac
count of - two women and eight chil
dren, who were journeying in that
direction. We need not add that he
instantly retracted his steps. At
Johnstown he heard with a full heart
and overflowing eyes, of all that these
families had suffered, and of their
present comforts.' On Friday last he
again arrived in Albany, lie sought
the managers of St. Andrew’s Society
and it is with pride in the honest and
honorable feeling of our country-men
that we slate he instantly insisted oh
refunding from his slender means, the
sum advanced from the treasury of
that association; this amount they ac
cepted.—He was equally solicitous'
in desiring to repay all the private
contributions, but who would willing
ly be deprived of the heartfelt sat
isfaction of contributing to the com
forts of persons so deserving? This
restitution was therefore declin
ed.
We have rarely, if ever, known a
case which excited so warm and uni
versal symphathy, on each recital of
the circumstances the hand was in the
pocket before the tale was concluded,
and lives there an individual, who on
such an application, would have re
fused? If there is, we do not envy
that man’s feelings. Let him count
over his hoards, and glut his eyes with
the glittering treasure, we would ra
ther follow our wanderers to their
happy homes, and while our imagina
tions picture their meeting, while the
fire side tale of perils overpast and
hospitality received, starts the sym
pathetic tear, or lights the glow of
gratitude on the cheeks, we seek no
higher reward than to know that we
ivere privileged to be the dispensers
of a portion of this happiness.
One circumstance more ought to
be recorded, and then we have done
The driver of the sleigh from Johns
toWrt was instructed to convey them
to the tavern kept by Mr. Shields, in
Washington street, opposite the
Western Hotel, here these ten per
sons were hospitably received, and
comfortably entertained, from Satur
day till Wednesday, and all remu
neration declined, although the man
agers of the society almost forced
upon him a trifling sum. We sincerely
hope that many travellers who m3y
read this account will make that
house their home, when it equally
suits their convenience to do so, and
that events will prove, he has “cast
his bread upon the waters” to “find it
richer and heavier.” before mdny days.
We are, gentlemen, respectfully
yours.
THE EARL OF EXETER.
“When the late Earl of Exeter
was in his mihority, he married a !a-
imuaiuu mo ncnouij, « bum. wag , n j lls minority, ue marnea a
as prudence would permit w as ira^ ^ ©f the name and family of Vernon
mediately appropriated to their user 0 f Hanbury, Worcestershire, fron
this, however, fell far short of the —« • Af
amount necessary to forward them in
comfort to their ultimate destination^
supscription was therefore set on foot,
and among the members present a
sum. was collected >vhich with the con
tributions of a few charitable indivi
duals, unconnected with the society,
was found equal to the object. A
vehicle was hired, comfortable pro
visions for a six day’s journey were
purchased, and under the care of a
steady and attentive driver, these he
roic women, with their interesting
families, started for their home on the
.morning of the 18th inst.
On the evening of the same day,
the elder of the brothers arrived here
Tor the purpose of conducting the fam
ilies home. It would appear that
when they had accomplished the first
fifty miles of their toilsome Journey,
they halted at a tavern, from whence
they wtote to their husbands, stating
the circumstances which had induced
them to leave their comfortless resi
dence, and the hopelessness of be
ing able to accomplish the task they
had undertaken, and the slender pros
pect they entertained of procuring
any mode of conveyance. On the
whom he was afterwards divorced .Af
ter the separation had taken place,
Lord Exeter, his uncle, advised him
(then the Hon. Mr. Cecil) to retire
into the country for some time, and
pass for a private gentleman. He
complied with the request, and took
his course into a retired pait of Shrop
shire. There fixing his residence
for some time at an inn in the small
village of Hodnet, he became liberal
to an unexampled degree, to all a
bout hint. Some people in the neigh
borhood formed suspicious notions of
him, surmising that he was a rogue in
disguise, and accordingly shunned his
company. Others took him for an In
dian Nabob, and frequently he heard
the rustics exclaim, “there goes the
gentleman.” Taking a dislike at the
situation, ho looked out for board at
some farm-house: but here again
was a difficulty. Few families cared
to take him because he was loo fine
a gentleman. At last in considera
tion of the liberal offers that he made,
a farmer agreed to fit him up a room.
Here he continued, under the name of
Mr. Jones, for about two years, ap
parently contented with his retire
went. He used occasionally to goto
London for a short time, for the ur^
pose, as the country people suppose. ,
of collecting his rents, but in reality
to resume the dignity end society of
his station.
“During this recluse life, time"
hung heavy on his ha‘hds, and he pur
chased some land jvith the view of
building upon it. The workmen were
at first averse to undertake it, and he
did not choose to” oppose or expostu
late with them, as it might tend to a
discovery. But on his lordship’s of
fering to pay a certain sum in advance,
it was agreed that his design should
he executed. About this titae, too,
he undertook the superintendence of-
the roads, the management of the
poor rates, &c. all of which offices he
filled with so much skill and discern
ment ds surprised atid astonished the
neighborhood,
“He ventured also to pay his ad
dresses to a young woman, a farmer’^
daughter, but was not atterided to,
from motives of caution, not being
known sufficiently to be trusted. The _
person at w hose house he lived being {
less scrupulous than the rest permitted
him to pay his addresses to hi's daugh
ter, whose rustic beauty he admired..
And although the maiden was placed
in a humble lot, his lordship soon dis
covered that her virtues would one
day shed a lustre on a more exalted
station. On the farmer’s return from
his labors in the field, the Hon. Mr.
Cecil ^as Mr. Jones) made proposals
of marriage, and craved the consent
of the female’s parents. “What!”
exclaimed Mrs. Higgins, the wife,
“marry our daughter to a finegehtle-
raan, a stranger? No, indeed.”—
“But yes,” replied her husband; “the
gentleman has houses and land and
plenty of money, and there is no ex
ception to his conduct.” Consent
was obtained, the match was made
up, and in twelve months, by the aid
of proper masters, this charming
country girl became an accomplished
lady.
“Shortly after this event, the
Right Hon. Brownlow Cecil, Earl of
Exeter, died, and his nephew suc
ceeded to his title and estates. This
obliged him to leave his much-loved
retirement, And hasten to town. He,
took his wife along with him, but said
nothing of his exalted station. In his
way he called at several noblemen’s
seat3, and at length' arrived at Bur
leigh-house, the seat of his noble an
cestors, near Stamford. The road
was lined with gentlemen and tenant
ry, assembled to welcome their new
lord and lady. They entered in their
carriage through the Gothic porch,
which was hung round with flowers'
and evergreens, and passed up the av
enue shaded by the old trees. “Oh!’ r
sard she, “what a paradise is this!”
The Earl could contain himself no
longer, but exclaimed, “It is thive,
dear, and thou art Countess of Exe
ter!” She fell back in the carriage
and fainted with joy. They arrived
at the house, her ladyship being re
covered, and were welcomed with
every demonstration of respect and
affection.
‘Having settled his affairs to his
satisfaction, he returned into Shrop
shire, disclosed his rank, and placed
his father-in-law in the mansion that
he had built in the country, and set
tled upon him an annuity of 500/. per
annum. Afterwards he took the
Countess to London, and introduced
her to the fashionable world, where
she was universally admired and es
teemed.”
Anecdote.—When the Danish mis-'
sionarics appointed some of their Ma-
labarian converts to translate a Cate
chism, in which it was mentioned at*
the privilege of Christians that they*
become the sons of God; one of the'’
translators, startled at ?o bofJ a
ing, as he thought it, and bursting intp/*
tears, exclaimed, “It is too much; lef
us rather render it—They shall bef
permitted to kiss his feet.”— Col. Star.'
NOTICE.
I HEREBY forewarn all persons fr onri '
trading for a note given by me, dat e£ p
April 1829, to Andrew M. Vann for two
cows and calves and sixteen hundred
weight of beef; as the consideration fof
which the note was given has failed to bar
sound 1 am deter mined not tp pay it unlesa
compelled by law.
SAMUEL ADAIR, Jr.
Hightower, Mayl8th. 8—-8
CHEROKEE CONSTITUTION,
Printed in both language* in parallel
columns, for sale at this Office.
j owy o»«7P, tjw ase>i»«s«v-i
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