oF Ne are soming, Father Abraham, to vindicate the VOL. 17. + BELLEFONTE, FRIDAY ‘MGRNING, NOV. 28, 1862, ... NO. 46. Selo Pogiry, SONG OF THE DEMOCRACY. Addressed to Father Abraham. BY DOUGLAS A. LEVIEN. ‘ We are coming. Father Abraham, Three Hundred Thousand sirong, To save you from the clutches of the Abolition throng. You’ ve] foot urd from Pennsylvania, and from In- too, And Ch hio has been speaking through her ballot box to you ! The stugdy ooh of Iron, from the Furnace and FA Niue With the Hoosiers and the Buckeye boys are wheeling into line; : They sre marching to the music of the Union as of yore ew York is coming after them, Three Hun- dred Thousand more! And N We are marching. Father Abraham, to that fa- miliar tune, With which so oft, in former years, we've scared that same coon! Once more from hill ard valley it rings forth with cheerful sound, To gladden every household where a loyal heart is found. Bee! Eve-y star is blazoned on the banner we un old ; For the Union thatour Jackson saved, our Sey- mour will ugh; To scatter all the Nation's foes—the Union to re- siore, We are coming, Father Abraham, Three Hundred Thousand more ! We are coming, Father Abraham, and as we march along, We'll relieve you from tho ¢¢ pres sure” of the Ab olition (hrong ! You told them that you couldu’t make a’pig's leg of its tai And that ag not ay They would our plea They sw: ro that WwW hite Men should be slaves and Niggers should de free ! But youn ced not mind their ravings now, or tre mble at their roar— Yor we're coming. Father Abraliam, Tiree Hun- dred thousand more ! t the Comet Papal bulls would heed your anccdotes, or listen to We are coming. Father Abraham, so cast away your ferrs; Its the Dem: eratio “slogan’® that is ringing in your « ars! They pretena to eall us Traito.s ! you to the blood That scaks into Virginia's soil—that dyes Poto- But we point muo's flood— That stains the hills of Maryland, the plains of Tenne sce: Buch “'Tinitors ”” Father Abr ® «1 this Union Joves to see ! I's a growing “Traitor” army tht i: thurdering at your ry door, And New York will swells its columns with Three Hundred Thousand more ! Tu To hold the pt ay banner up—to guard the Na- tion i Our motto hi : 3 ‘White Man's Rights .”’ “for hattled long— ° hi fight with sinewy arms, with earn- est hearts and stronz— For this we'll burst Fort Wamen's bars and crum- ble Lafayette— For this we'il crush the Nation’s focs, and save the Union yot ! Thus speaks the North! Oh! Abraham you'll need its mighty roar, hall swell the shorus with Three iiundred Thousand more! EE Hise neous, Ellen len Woodman. == A TALEOF TilE REVOLUTION. There was a sound of revelry in the old mansion of John Woodman, and the rich and infl ential people of the town of Lynn wera gathered there to celebrate the eigh- teenth birthday of Lynn’s fairest daughter, Ellen Woodman, Oid John Woodman was a wealthy tory, and used every exertion in his power to farther the reign of tyranny and to sub- due tho spirit of rebellion that had shown itself at Lexington and Concord, and was every day waking in tho different parts of the colony. His only child, Ellen, was of a fervent, noble disposition, and, besides, uniting many excelient qualities as 2 woman, she possessed much of that spirit that her father sought to put down; and, with all the influence she possessed, she worked for the good of the patriot cause, Her father determined to show his re- sentment by marryini her to a young Brit- ish lieutenant, by the name of Joseph Win- glow, who, as a soldier, stood high, but as a man, was far below his rival, John Pettin- gill. This young man had long been in love with the beautiful Ellen, but, as his only qualifications wera manliness, of course he met with no favor at the hands of the old tory, who, to put him fairly at bay, had engaged his daughter to Winslow, Bat the young Englishman was far from being the one that could win the heart of the tory’s child, for she loved the young farmer; and now that fate had set a seal upon her hopes, she cared not for the splendor that sported so wantonly at her side. On the occasion referred to there were gallant youths and beautiful maidens as- sembled to pay their respects to her; but she sought the first opportunity that pre- segaed itself to meet ber lover in the gar- 2 where she had often listened to the manly dy of his voice, and beneath the: tree where she had acknowledged a love for the ono she now despaired of being rho knew well “how to use. marits; and ears beside their own to listen to their words and store them up against her. A few days after this there was a ru- mor that General Ward and, the Committee of Safety had resolved to erect a fort on Bunker ITill, and defend it against whatev- er force the British might see fit to send against it. This word found many echoes and many responses from the hardy has- bandmen who lived in the vicinity; but in no place did it diaw together a finer compa- ny than in Lynn. The evening preceeding the morning they were to march for Charlestown, young Pet- tingill, who had been chosen captain of a compacy, went to pay his respects to Ellen, and to say farewell, perhaps forever, “And you are determined on going, then ?”’ she asked, as he mentioned the sub- ject to ber. “Yes, I have been chosen captain of the company, and feel it to be my foi to lead them on,” said he. “1am glad; and yet I fear is way happen to you, and that—" aod she cast her eyes upon the ground, pausing in what she would have said. * Better be dead, dying in a good cause, than to live and know that life is to be but a waste, Ellen. Better resign all selfish ends, and part as friends,” knowing that a time will come when we shall meet to part no more, than to live a poor slavish life here and know that all I love and hold dear is soon to be snatched away and be to an- other what I have dreamed she would be to | ma. ® I po with pleasure, Ellen.” * With no pangs ?”’ she asked, quickly. “Yes, I have many at leaving you, but am spurred on by the thought thut I may win for myself and for my country a name: that you, aye, even your father, shall be proud to know, to love and to respect This shall cheer mo on, dull the pangs of parting, and prompt me to action.” * But you way be the first to fall.2 “ True; then I shall escape the pangs of living, and of striving to rise to that point where Tonge sits and envy hurls her ar- rows.” 0 “You will most: likely meet Winslow there.” “Ah! then we shall be on equal terms! then we can contend whero strength and valor win the fight, and where bombast pales before the thundering note of war; yes, we shall meet there.” “Oh, if yeu could bat conquer !” # We shall try, and leave the result to Him who governs tho fortunes of war.” “Ho, knave ! what brings you lLere?” said a stern voico ; and, on turning, they beheld Winslow approaching them. Business of my own,” quietly respond- ed Pettingill, » “You may presume to think so; but, without asking if you have [finished it, I | will order you to take your leave,” said he with scorn. “Ils ean remain here while I choose to entertain him,” said Ellen, with warmth, “and if you were as much of a gentleman as you pretend to be a soldier, you would not interrupt us,” “Bat your rebel friend dares not say what humanity allows you to. [came here by leave of your father.” “ Nevertheless, I endorse all she has said,” replied Pettingill. “You dare not.” “1 do, and fearlessly.” “ Draw your sword, knave, and see if you can wag it as fiercely as you ‘do your tongue 1” he said, drawing his own with a flourish. “You shall judge, sir,”” replied Pettingil calmly, as he drew forth his blade, which They were quite evenly matched, so far as weight was concerned, and if it came to blows it was ev- dent that tho result would depend: Upon skill alone. =" “ Do not’ fight hots gentlemen,” said El- len. But he has defied me,” shouted Win- slow. * And pertitza may kill you,” she re- plied. . “You shall see how noble he is in the use of his weapon ;”” and he made a quick blow at Pettingill, evidently to do away with him at once; but, to his surprise, the blow wds'parried with ease and skill, and one returned which ‘made the lieutenant thank the custom that pat cotton in the breast of his coat. In ‘another minute they were cutting and slashing at each other'in the most desperate mantier, while Ellen retired to the house. The clash of the conflict soon reached the ears of old Woodman, who rushed to the spot in hot haste. “Heyday! what now! what does this mean? Hold, gentlemen, hold, I say!” And he Begin to be more anxious about the cessation of hostilities as he saw that Captain Pettingill ‘was gaining advantage of his man. But neither of them ineaded nearer to than a friend. There were eyes to watch their move- his commands. * There braggart A id Ptingil, a8 he knocked Winslow’s sword to the ground, * Now, ifit please you, we will obey Mr. Woodman, for I would scorn to kill you, contemptible thing 1” “ How is this, sir ? How dare you invade my gardens and attack my friends ?” Your friend attacked me, and you see I have defended myself.” “ But we shall meet again,” said Wins low. “IT hope 80, and if Gage has na better men in his army than you are, you will have the pleasure of staying with me when we meet.” *“ Begone; knave !”” said Woodman, “When I have finished my business, if you please,” and motioning to Ellen who stood but a few steps from them, he tock both her hands in his, and tarning to his vanquished foe and her father, said— “TI came to bid your daughter farewell, and now that’ this fellow has entered as a rival for her, we will wave all, and trust to the keenness of our swords for obtaining her,” “T agres to that,” said Winslow, as he drove his dishonored sword into its scal- bard. “Bat I have a word to say,” replied Woodman. “Rest it there,” said Winslow; * for if he dares to beard the lion in his den he shall know how weak he is, and be put out of the way.” “Perhaps,” replied the young captain and then turning to Ellen, added —* You hear the bargain, my friend, and T know you will abide the result. Farewell! may heaven bless you.” “Farewell,” eaid she, gazing so rowfully into bis face while a tear stood trembling in her eye as she spoke. “I love the cause you go to fight for; and if you fall, I will cherish your memory as that of the dearest frierd I ever had.” ¢ Ellen, this from you ? are you mad ?”’ “No, father ; I shall place ull upon the result of war, for I love this man ; acd if he wins I will be his wife whothur you wish it or not.” *“Zounds! this from my daughter !”’ “Rest it thera, Mr. Woodman,” said Winslow, * for, if I win she wil love me all the better, and if T fall I shall not lose much.” “ Bat it shall not be!” “I had rather it would he, if you please.” “ But he is a rebel.” “She loves him !” “Is it possible 7’ “Rest it there; I am anxious to vindi- cate my honor,” said Winslow, beginning to show his bravado again, ‘“ As you say: yet—" “ Farewell, Ellen! God bless you!” and, casting a look at the two discomfited indi- viduals who stood apart, our hero started away. The trio then entered the house, but El- len went immediately to her chamber, leav- ing her father and the crest-fullen lieaten- ant to patch up the affair as best they might. " : caaprer IT. The sultry summer sun was’ pouring his oppressive rays upon the dry earth, and all was hushed except the labor of those brave hearts who plied the entrenching tools, and were busily at work throwing up a rade fort on Breed’s Hill. Col. Prescott and his men still toiled on where they had toiled the whole night long, and heeded not the melt- ing sun, so eager where they to entrench his iron rale over Boston, But this painful silence was not to be for a long time, for already the battery on Copp’s Hill began to send the messengers of destruction among them, and the vessels that lay in the river to belch forth their fu- ry upon that noble devoted few, who quailed not as the shots fell fiercer and faster among them. Avxiety and commotion hegan now to spread on every hand, and there were hur- ried equipments and stérn commands were quiet had raled so lately and so profound- Jy ikl At this juncture Captain Pettingill and his company of noble volunteers arrived at the redoubt, and at once relieved those who had borne the heat and burden of the day. But, before the rude fortress was completed, there landed apon the shores of Charlestown a force much their superior in point of num- bers, but who, under cover of ther batteries, seated themselves upon the green sward, and, in the presence of those fatigued and hungry patriots; refresh themselves with a hearty dinner, as though they did not deem the work before then of suflicient import- ance to make an innovation in their cus- toms. i Meanwhile the volunteers weré pouring into the fort, and were making every prepu- ration in their power to repulse the foe who were feasting before their attack, Another regiment landed, and, under General Piggot, they prepared to advance upon the rebels, fence themselves against the foe who was holding | find their bed “Tae bloody turf of Bunker Hill,” There was a brief silence now, nid one eould almost hear the palpitating hearts of those who were ensconced within these muddy walls, The dark wreaths of smoke were gently borne away by the breeze, and formed into a fierce monitor who should gazo upon the events about to be translated below. It seemed like a thoatre when the music has ceased, and all are watching breathless- ly for the curtain to rise upon a tragedy, in which Tyranny and Freedom struggled to- gether. Hark! the dram! They have he- gun the march, and, with confident strides, they etart upon their treacherous errand. Within the fort all is hushed as the grave; and those in command, or those who pro- mulgated words of cheer, spoke low but with firmness. Firmly the tyrant approaeh- es, and yet ro sign of danger awakens them to their fate; and now, within a few rods they are about to charga upon the fort with a shout, when a murderous volley sends hundreds of them to their long homes, and opens fountains of blood whose current flows down the hill, telling the first tale of war. Confusion and dismay follow, and the few who escaped death throw down their arms and fly in terror from the spot; and, painting the first bright star of that glorious constellation that now waves over the de- scendants of those who fought there. But British pride was not to be humbled thus; and, after rallying their scattering numbers and obtaining reinforcements, they azain marched ap the bill of slaughter. This time they wore not that haughty smile, nor marched up with that imperious stride of contempt, for they had learned a most bitter less in; and, as they slepped over the dead bodies of their they thought how many mcments should pass be- fore they, too, should find a gory bed beside them. Goaded on by their officers, they again ap- proached the fort, and are again driven, in sad dismay, headlong down the hill, where, like a half slaughtered herd of sheep, they huddled in groups and gazed in silent hor- ror apon the devastation and bloodshed be- fore them. A consultation was held, and, with the advice of all their generals, Gage resolved to attack it on the two sides and in front at the same time. Bringing their artillery up, the result was more fortunate for them, for the patriots had espended all their powder and were now breaking open the cartridges that belonged to the artillery of Caprain Gridley tosuppiy themselves. The redoabt was soon captured and its occupants put to flight, but those who occupied the‘ rail ?? still held out, and proved themselves all but invincible, Here Captain Pettingill and his brave company, in company with the veteran Stark, poured volicy after volley upon the fue, and succeeded in retaining their de- fence Jong after those who had occupied the redonbt had retreated, and the lamented Warren had yielded up his life for the cause of human freedom, But the assailing force were too powerful and that Spartan band were at last forced to give way and mingle in the retreat which was p'ctured forth in bloody colors ail around them. Their retreat was calm and sclf-possessed, as they manfully disputed every inch of ground over which they pass- ed, and which was strewn with the dead and dying of friend and foe. Petiingill, sword in band, was forced away from his command, and found himself in the thickest of the fight where, ever will- ing, he made many kiss the ground who dared to cross blades. with him, At one moment he found himself hand to hand with a powerful cavalry soldier, who ‘had lost his horse, and slashing about him like a mad- man. But he had hardly commenced with this person when Lieut. Winslow joined in the attack. The sight of this man woke up every en- ergy that he possessed, and with the fury of a lion, he parried and returned the blows of hus antagonists. He soon felled his first man, and then turned to. Winslow. + Now, poor coward, J will try you,” he said, as he grasped bis sword anew, and stood prepared to commence the fizht. “ We shall see now,” replied Winslow. * You know the prize 2 «1 do, and shall win it.” ¢ You may,” he replied, as they closed in deadiy combat. The fight was now horrid in the extreme; hundreds were flyicg for their lives, an hundreds were wrestling with the foe, while the fiendish ariillery’ played upon them with wanton fury and bio.dy effect. Into this furious throng our heroes were driven ; but still they fought on, and it would seem that Winslow had the advantage, coming, as he did, into the fight fresh and all prepared ; he watched his intended victim, hoping he would fall.by other hands, or be attracted companions, Tittle thinking how many of them should by another, that he might stab him trom be- hind, like the coward tbat he was. But fortune was wih Pettingill, and he laid his cowardly antagonist among the dead, and left the field with his sword as a trophy. CHAPTLR III. We need not speak of the results that came eventually from the work of that ter- rible day, bat will keep to our story. John Pettingill was one of the many he- roes who made themselves felt on that day, and fur his bravery, the colony rewarded him with the title and office of Brigadier General, an office which he knew how to fill and how to honor. Taking up their wounded and burrying their dead, Pettingill and his brave follow- ers started towards Lynn, and their whole route was one continuous ovation to the he- roes who had smitten down so many of the foe on Bunker Hill. Before them on every hand the news of their valor had gone ; and from every nouse along the road there came a shout of welcome that amply repaid them for ail their suffering. Oa their arrival at Linn there was a grand reception given them ; and, among those who came to pay their tribute of praise to the brave patriots, was John Woodman and his beautiful daughter. The list of kill- edand wounded in the Brinsh army had reached them, and among the former he found the name of Joseph Winslow, ard had also heard of the particulars of the encoun- tre with Pettingil, how, alone and single- handed, the latter had smitten down two of the enemy's best swordsmen, and that, too, when they were both attacking him. Whatever it might have been, there sure- ly was something that had turned old Wood- man’s mind, and brought him in company with Ellen, to welcome the returned sol- diery, As soon as the formalities were over, John Pettingil rode forward to where he was standing, and raising his hat courteously pres:nted the shattered sword of the Eng- lishman to Woodman, who took it with sojne reluctance, ¢t Take it,” said he, ‘it was honorably won, sud 1 shall leave it to fulfill its mis- sion.’ ‘You are a brave man,” said Woodman, without looking him in t he face. « It must be so when John Woodman the tory says it," replied the young offi- cer. 1 have of late taken a different view of things for this last vattle has convinced me that there will be something come of this cause.” * When such men as Warren yield up their lives in it, liberty must follow.” « Come to my house to-night and we will talk the matter over,” replied Woodman, as the young man turned to take his leave of them «T will, with many thanks,” and the trio parted to meet again in the evening. That evening the old mansion was lighted again, and as brilliantly as when it was last noticed. But there was a different gather- ing there now, for those who had escaped the terrible pangs of war were now seated at his table wi ere wine mirth and sentiment flowed like water from a fountain. Nearly every man of standing and influ- ence in the town was there, takiog part in the festivi ics, But the hero of the evening was the brave and lately premoted officer John Pettingill. #1 may as well say it first as last,” said Woodman who had essayed to speak to him several times but seemed to fail for the want of confidence. « What would you say? asked Petten- gill. *« Why that yon are a noble young man: and if this will convey to you my high sens of respect take ber, and be as true to her as you hage been to the upholding of your cause,’ and he led the blushing happy EI- len and gave her hand to Pettingill, who raised it to bis lips. « | thank you sir and my duty shall now be cone with a greater zest than ever. But 1 must follow the fortunes of this war a lit- tle while longer, until we succeed in for- cing the tyrant from our colony. But let this sword hang upon the wall as a memen- to of what I won, snd of our phghted troth,’ «