REMINISCENCES OF THIRTY-SEVEN by Leigh Cliffe. 1838 [poetry]

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The North-Carolina Standard. May 2, 1838

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FROM THE NEW YORK NEW ERA. REMINISCENCES OF THIRTY-SEVEN. BY LEIGH CLIFFE, ESQ. And so the poor old year is gone Where its numerous ancestors slumber, And Time's writing an epitaph on The defunct for his annual number! Oh! it really and truly is dead Of an illness years never surmounted;— I knew 't had a cold in its head, And some thousand pulsations I counted. 'Twas attack'd with dyspepsia last spring, When the chimney-pots tumbled about Like urchins, just breech'd, in a ring They have form'd to fight ill-humor out. Then symptoms appeared to decline Just when the last summer was over, And gossips hint at the last Wine —Season 'twas not very sober. After that the poor sufferer knew Low spirits, which set e'en clouds weeping; And this I can vouch to be true, For I once was their kerchief while sleeping At ease on a hillock of hay, Till they soused me all o'er with their fears; And a rheumatic twinge this fine day Brings to mind this departed of years! It had a sad chill last November, And got rather wet in the feet; And a warm-vapor had in December, Instead of a shower-bath of sleet. And it died! 'Twas a sad blow indeed To me:—it kept turkeys from riding From Norfolk to tempt me to feed, And silence my wife's tongue from chiding. I had “half an idea” of a ham, As we now call a very thin slice; A whole one of jellies and jam, All under the cost-selling price; And two or three Tiddington chicks— And four or five hares from the hills; Larks, neatly arranged on white sticks— But instead came some long Christmas bills. Small accounts, just for bread and for wine, With other odd items between, Which will never be paid by the Nine Old maids of Parnassus, I ween. One long bill of pleasure and pain, Sent in by a will-proving proctor, Which should have been brought up last reign— But the devil a line from the doctor! From Urlings, and Brussels, and Point; Flowers, feathers, and satins, and gloves, A foolscap, whose huge double-joint Might frighten the marrying loves. A list from the tailor, so long That it looks the whole length of the piece; Some hints from the warblers of song That a concert brings forward a niece. A benefit started for Miss, And her family—(tickets enclosed,) A subscription for that and for this, Ask'd by one who must not be opposed. And then there's a host of invites To soirees, and balls:—but what's worse, This dressing and dancing o' nights Makes a terrible hole in the purse! There's a knock! Oh! I'm sure 'tis a dun— I could swear to the horrid rat-tat:— Is't the tailor?—No, no, 'tis the son Of the man who tick'd me my new hat. Shut the door—say I'm out—any thing— So it leaves me in comfort and peace; If not I shall mourn till the spring, Poor old 'Thirty-Seven's decease!

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THE CHEROKEES.—The Colonel of this Regiment of North Carolina has had a requisition made upon him by the Governor for one company of Volunteers to be in readiness to repair to the Cherokee country, if necessary, to enforce the removal of those Indians, which is to take place on the 30th ultimo. We understand a similar requisition has been made upon the Regiments west of us. We hope our citizens will prove their readiness to obey the call of their country.—Western Carolinian.

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HEAVY TALK.—'Look here Sam Jonsing, is you gwoin to tha theatre to night?'

'No—is you?'

'Dat I is. Don't you see de great 'traction dere on de bill?'

'Yes, I does. Say, nig, what's de name ob dat big piece down dere at de bottom?'

'Well, I can't zackly specemfy de name ob dat piece, but dey say it's one dat possesses de biggest kind of interestariety.'

'Dat's enuff—dat last 'spression of yours conwinces me—I'm gwoin.'

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ADVICE FROM A WHIG.—The following is from the New York Herald, a Whig paper:—

Change your name, Whigs. It now means blood, blood, nothing but blood. Must re-organize, and take a new name—a new departure. Separate yourselves from the men of blood—from the wretches who gave you the name you bear. Change your name—change your name.

THE CHEROKEE'S FAREWELL by E. C. S. 1838 [poetry]

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The Caledonian., May 8, 1838

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FOR THE CALEDONIAN. THE CHEROKEE'S FAREWELL. Farewell, farewell to the place of our birth, The pale face commands us and we must obey, No rest to the red man while ling'ring on earth; Our lands, they are wanted, and we must away. Farewell, farewell to the home of our youth, To the woods and the vales, where in childhood we rov'd; Did the white man regard either justice, or truth, We should not from hence, far away be removed. Farewell, farewell to the graves of our sires, To the green turfs, long hallow'd, in seasons gone-by; We had hop'd to have liv'd by our own council fires; We had hop'd in the graves of our fathers to lie. Farewell to our hopes—they forever have flown, For the haughty pale faces now covet our lands; Faith kept with the Indian, to them is unknown, And oppression is all we receive from their hands. Ye who call yourselves Christians, come now and possess What of right should belong to the robb'd Cherokee; The poor weary red man will soon be at rest, And your hearts will rejoice when his downfall you see. Beyond Mississippi's dark waters we go, But the arm of your power, still our steps will pursue, No rest will the son of the forest e'er know, Till like night's dizzy visions, he passes from view. Regrets are now useless—complaint is in vain, Our remonstrance despis'd, on the table is laid; We must yield, to the white man, our much lov'd domain, For, by baseness unequall'd our rights are betray'd. But, though ye despise us, ye foes to our race, Think not to escape the just vengeance of Heaven; In the book of remembrance, our wrongs have a place, And full retribution to you will be given. Heard you that sad lament, Ye rulers of our land? Then, let your hearts relent, For judgment is at hand. The injured red man's cry Will not in vain ascend; The God who rules on high, A ready ear will lend. Repent ye of your wrong, Before it be too late; Repent, or you, ere long, Will share the Indian's fate. E. C. S. Waterford, April 1838.

Poland, Lithuania Absorbed by Russia. 1838

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Army and Navy Chronicle. May 3, 1838 || +1

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POLAND.—The Czar has issued an ukase abolishing the distinct existence and the name of Poland, absorbing the kingdom into Russia, and incorporating the Polish troops with his own barbarians. The following is the ukase: l. The boundaries of the governments of the kingdoms of Poland, and those of Lithuania, anciently incorporated with Russia, have ceased to exist. The inhabitants can pass freely from one country to the other without asking for passports at Warsaw or St. Petersburgh; there are to be no more custom-houses between the government of Russia and those of Poland.—2. The term of military service for the Polish recruits is to be 23 years, as in Russia. The children of married soldiers are to belong to the government, and are to be placed in its military schools.—3. The liberty which the Polish peasants enjoy of changing their domicile is abolished: they are to submit to the same rules as Russian peasants. The paper securities issued by government in January last have fallen from 500 to 490 florins, while the securities issued by the constitutional government previous to 1830 increase in value every day.