Mineral Point tribune. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1854-1858, 1855-03-28


charge, an ENTERPRISE that rushed from
wllds ike the Skippack, upon an army
like that of the British at Germantown. u. q,
startle from ice and snow, like that which
lay across the Delaware upon hordes like
those of the Hessians at Trenton-then
will lower Washington down into Fabius
This comparison of our heroes with the
barbarian demigods of Rome, only illus.
trates the poverty of the mind that makes
/ it.
Compare Brutus, the ASSASSIN of his
friend, with Washington, the deliverer of
his People Cicero, the opponent of Cat.
allne, with Henry the champion of a con-
tinent What beggary of thought Let
US learn to be little independent, to
know our great men as they were, not by
comparison with the barbarian heroes of
old Rome.
Let US learn that Washington was no
negative thing, but all chiyalry and gen
/ ius,
1t was in the battle of the Brandywine
that this truth was made plain. He came
rushing on to battle. He beheld his men
hewn down by the British. be heard them
shrek his name, and regardless of his
personal safety, he rushed to rejoin them.
1t was at this moment that Washing
ton came rushing on once more into battle
Yes, it was In the dread havoc of that
retreat that Washington, rushing forward
into tie very centre of the melee, was en-
tangled in the enemys troops On the top
of high hill, southwest of the Meeting
House, while Pulaski was sweeping on
with his grim smile. to have one more bout
with the eager red-coats.
Washington was in terrible danger-his
troops were rushing TO the south-the
British troopers sweeping up the hill, and
around him-while Pulaski. on hill some
hundred yards distant, was scattering a
parting blessing among the hordes of Han
over.
1t was glorious prize, this MISTER
Washington 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
whiskered lip was wreathed with grim
smile-he waved his sword--he pointed
to the iron grey and his rider
There was but one moment.
With that impulse that iron band wheel
ed their war horses, and then dark body,
solid and compact, was speeding over the
valley like thunderbolt sped from the
heayens-three hundred swords rose gilt
tering in a faint glimpse of sunlight-and
in front of the avalanche, with his form
raised to its full height a dark frown on
his brow. fierce smile on his lip rode
Pulaski, like spirit reused into life by
the tbuuderbolt, be rode-his eyes were
fixed on the iron grey and his rider-his
band had but one look one will one shout
WASHINGTON
The British troops bad encircled the
American leader-already they felt secure
of their prey-already the head of that
traitor, Washington, seemed to yaWn above
the gates of London.
But that trembling of the earth in the
valley yonder What means it
That terrible beating of hoofs, what
does it portend
That ominous sileDce-and now that
shout-nor of words or of name, but that
half veil half hurrah. which shrieks from
the Iron Men as they scent their prey
What mean it all
Pulaski is on our track the terror OF
the British army is on our wake
Anu on itt OdADt- Ht anu 34c SdIAdHt bdt1t
4 moment, and he had swept over the
Observation-Disclosures, dead and
diving, they strewed the green sod-he
had passed over the bill, he had passed
the form of Washington
Another moment. and that iron band
had wheeled--back in the same career of
death they came Routed, defeated.
crushed, the red-coats fee from the hill,
while the iron band sweep round the form
of George Wasbington-they encirele him
with their forms OF oak-their swords of
steel-the shout of his name shrieks thro'
the air, aud away to the American host
they bear Lin in all soldiers JOY
It was at Savannah that night came
down upon Pulaski.
Yes. [ see him now, under the gloom OF
night. riding toward yonder rampant, bis
black steed rearing aloft, while two hun
dred of his own men follow at his back.
Right Oh, neither looking to the right
or left, he rides, his eye fixed upon the
cannon Of the British-his sword gleam-
ing over his head
For the last time they heard that war
cry Forwarts, Brudren, ForwaTts !"
Then they saw tnat bfack morse pIunS-
ing forward, his fore feet resting on the
cannon of the enemy wbilehi rider arose
in all the pride of his form, his face bath
ed in flush Of red light.
The fash once gone. they saw Pulaski
no more. But they found him-yes, be-
meath the enemy's cannon, crushed by the
same gun that killed his steed-yes, they
found him, the horse and rider, together
in death. that noble face glaring in the
midnight sky with CLASSY eye.
So in his glory he died. lie died while
America and Poland were yet IN chains.
/ He died, in the stout hope that both would
one day be free. With regard to Ameri-
ca. his hopes have been fulfilled but Po-
4 land
Tell me. shall not the day come when
I wonder monument-erected By those warm
southern hearts, near SaFannah-wiil
yield UP its dead 2