Mineral Point tribune. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1854-1858, 1855-03-28
miscellaneous.
PU LAS XII
A REV LUTIoNARY SKETCH
Z 6 oB6E LIPPARp.

LII was at the battle of the Brandvwine
that Count Pulaski first appeared in all
his glory
As be rode, charging there, into the
thiekest of the battle, be was warrior to
look upon but once and never forget.
Mounted on large black horse. whose
strength and beauty of shape made YOU
forget the rlainness of his comparison. Pu.
laskl himself. with a form six feet il height.
massive chest, and limbs of iron. was seen
from afar relieved by the black cloud of
battle.
His face, grim with the scars of Poland.
was the face of man who had seen much
trouble, endured much wrong. 1t was
stamped with an expression of abiding
melancholy. Bronzed in hue, lighted by
large black eyes, with the lip darkened
by thick mustache, his throat and chin
were covered with a heavy beard, while
his hair fell in raven masses from beneath
his troopers cap shielded with ridge of
glittering steel His hair and beard were
| of the same hue
The sword that hung by his side, fash
Toned OF tempered steel, with a hilt of iron.
was one that warrior alone could lift.
1t was in this array that he rode to
battle, followed by band of three hun
dred men, whose faces, burnt with the
scorchlng Of a tropical sun, or hardened
by northern SHOWS, bore the sears of MANY
battle. They were mostly Europeans
some Germans, some Polanders, some de-
serters from the British army. These
were the men to fight. To be taken By
the British would be death on the gibbet
therefore they fought their best, aud
fought to their last gasp, rather than NUT
ter word about quarter"
When they charged, it was as one man.
their three hundred swords flashing over
their heads against the cloud of battle
They came down upon the enemy in ter
rible silence, without word spoken, not
even whisper.
You could hear the tramps of their
steeds, you could hear the rafting of their
scabbards. but that was ALL AS they clos
ed with the British, you could hear a
noise Ike the echo of hundred hammers
beating the hot iron on the anvil You
could see Pulaski himself, riding Wonder
in his white uniform, his black steed rear
ing aloft, as turning his head over his
shoulder, he spoke to his men
8 FORWARDS, BRUDEEN, FoRwARrs !"
1t was but broken German, vet they
understood it, those three hundred men
of suuburnt faces. wounds and gasbes s.
With one burst they rushed upon tue en-
emy. For few moments they used their
swords, and then the ground was covered
with dead, while the living enemy scatter
ed in panic before their path
1t was on this battle day of Brandy
wine, that the Count was in his glory.
He understood but little English, so he
spake what he had to say with the edge
Of his sword. It was severe lexicon. but
the British soon learned to read it. and to
know it.
All over the field, from yonder Quaker
meeting house away 10 the top of Os-
borne's Hill, the soldiers Of the enemy saw
Pulaski come, and learned to know his
name by heart
That white uniform, that bronzed Wis
age, that black horse with burning eye and
quiyering uostrils-they knew the warrior
well, they trembled when they heard him
say
s. Forwarts, Brudren, Forwarts ."
1t was at the retreat Of Brandywine
that the PolaEder was most terrible. Il
was when the men of Sulliyan-badly
armed, poorly fed, shabbily clad-gave
way, step BY step, before the overwhelm
ing discipline Of the British host, thai Pu
laski looked like battle-fend, mounted
on his demon steed.
His cap had fallen from his brow His
barred head shone in an occasional sun
BEEN, or grew crimson with fash from
the cannon or rifle.
His white uniform was rent and stain
ed in fact from head to foot, he was COW
cred with dust and blood
Still bis right arm was free; still it
rose there, executing British hireliDg
when it fell: still his voice was heard,
hoarse and husky, but strong in its every
tone" Forwarts, Brudren %
He beheld tie division Of Sullivan re-
treating from the field he saw the Brit
ish Wonder stripping their coats from their
backs in the madness of pursuit. He
looked to the south for Washington, who.
with the reserve, under Greene, was hur
rving to the rescue, but the American
Chief was not in view.
Then Pulaski was convulsed with rage.
He rode madly upon the bayonets Of
the pursuing British, his sword gathered
victim after victim, even there in front of
tbSA NIV4S arm AO AAbS AIS ctSNA
across the path Of the retreating Ameri
cans he besought them IL his broken
English to turn and make one mcra effort :;
/ he shouted in hoarse tones that the day
was not yet lost
They DID not understand his words, but
the tones in which he spoke thrilled their
blood
That picture, too, standing out from
[ the clouds Of battle-a warrior convulsed
with passion, covered with blood, leaning
over the neck of bis steed. while his eyes
seemed turned to FIRE, and the muscles Of
his bronzed face writhing like serpents-
that picture, | say. filled many heart
with new courage, nerved many wounded
arm for the fight again.
These retreating men turned, they faced
the enemy again-like the wolf at bay be
fore gray hQunds-tbey sprung upon the
necks cf thgsfoe, and bore them down BY