Loudon free press. (Loudon, Tenn.) 1852-1855, 1853-12-02

the meeting House. While Pulaski was fast
sweeping on with his CRIME smile, to take one
more bout with the eager red-coats.
Washington was in terrible danger-his troops
were rushing to the south-the British troops
came sweeping up the hill and round him
while Pulaski, on hill some hundred yards
distant, was scattering parting blessing among
the hoFdes of Hanover
ltsas glorious prize, this Mister Washing
ton IN the heart Of the British army
Suddenly the Polander turned--his eye
caught the sight of the iron grey and his rider
He turned to his troopers his lip wreathed with
q grim smile he waved his sworG-he pointed
to the iton grey and his rider.
There was but moment:
With one impulse that iron band wheeled
their war horses, and then dark body, solid
and -cpinpact, speeding over the valley like a
thun9rbolt from the sky--three hundred swords
trCL glittereing in the faint glimpse of sunlight
Is. tssa~t Of the valanehe, with his form raised
to itst7SA hight dark frown on his brow, a'ferce
smihe On his lip rode Pulaski. Like spirit
reused into life by the thunder bolt, he rode
his eyes were fixed on the iron grey and its RI
der-his band had but one look, one shout for
w WaShington.
The British troops had encircled the Ameri-
can leader-already they felt secure of their
prey-already the head ofthat traitor Washing
ton seemed to yawn above the gates of Lon
don.
Butthe tremblingofthe earth in the valley yon-
der: What does it mean?
That terrible beating of hoofs, what does it
portend?
That ominous silence and now that shout
not of words or names, but that half yell, hal
hurrah, which shriekS from the Iron Men, as
they scant their prey! What means it all?
Pulaski on our trackl The terror of the
British army is on our wake.
And on he came-he and his gallant band
A moment and he swept over Britishers-crush-
ed, mangled, dead and dying they strewed the
green sod-he had passed over the hill-he had
passed the form of Washington.
Another moment And the iron band had
wheeled-back in the same career of death they
came! Routed, defeated, crushed the red coasts
fee from the form of George Washington =
they encircle him in their forms of oak, their
swords of steel-the shout of his name shrieks
through the air. away to the American host
they bear him in all a soldiers battle joy.
1t was at Savannah that night came down
on Pulaski,
Yes, see him now, under the gloom of
night riding forward towards yonder ramparts,
dred of his iron men fellow at his back:
Right on, neither looking to the right or left,
he rides. his eyes fixed upon the cannon Of the
British, his sword cleaning over his head.
For the last time they heard that war cry
'Forwarts Bruden, Forwartsr
They saw that black horse plunging forward
his fore-feet resting on the cannon of the enc
nv, while his warrior-rider arose in all the pride
of his form, his face batheG in flush of red
light.
The fash once gone, they saw Pulaski no
more. But they found him yes, beneath the
enemyS cannon, crushed by the cannon that
killed his steed-yes, they found them, the
horse and rider, together in death, that noble
face glaring in the midnight sky with CLASSY
eyes.
So in his glory he died. Diedwhile America
and Poland were yet in chains. He died in
the stout hope that they both would one day be
free With regard to America, his hope has
been flu filed, but Poland
Tell me, shall not the day come when yonder
monument-ere by those warm Southern
hearts near Savannah-wil yield up its dead?
For Poland will be free at last, as sure as
God is just, as sure as He governs the Universe.
Then, when re-created Poland rears her eagle
alolt again, among the banners of nations, will
her children come to Savannah to gather up the
ashes of our hero and bear him home, with
the chant of priests with the thunder Of can
non, with the tears Of millions, even as repen-
tant France bore back her own Napoleon.
Yes the day is coming, when Kosciusco and
Pulaski will sleep side by side, beneath the soil
of RECREATED POLAND.