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,’
«<Tt shall be so,” replied the father,
He kept his word, end Petting'll followed
the furtunes of war until England entirely
relinquished her hold upon the United Col-
ontes, and then returned to Lynn, where
amid the fresh honors he had brought with
him from Yorktown, he led the happy Ellen
to the altar, and made her his wife.
The old mansion is still standing, and
even now there are “many stories told of
Ellen Woodman and her gallant husband.
p= Deliterate injuries must to a degree
be remembered, for deliberate precaution is
needed to secure us against their return,
nly A A Mp
077 Those people who send money to
newspaper offices, with a request, ‘send the
paper as long as the money lasts,” are re-
SCENE IN A POLICE OFFICE
The prisoner in this case, whose name
was Dicky Swivel, alias “Stove pipe Peta,
was placed at the bar and questioned by
the judge to the following effect :
Judge— ‘Bring the prisoner into court.
Pete-—<llere I am bound to blaze as the
spirits of turpentine said when he was ail
a-fire.’
‘We will take a little fire out of you, how
do you live ;
1 ain’t particular, as the oyster said when
they asked him if he'd be roasted or fried
*We don’t want to hear what the oyster
said or the spirits of turpentine] either. —
What do yon follow 2’
‘Anything that comes in my way" as the
Jocomotive said when he run over the little
nigger,’
‘Don’t cate anything about the locomotiva
What is your business
‘That's various, as the cat said when she
stole the chicken off the table.’
‘If T hear any moro absurd comparisons,
I will give you twelve months,’
‘I'm done, as the beefsteak said to the
cook.”
‘Now sir, your punishment shall depend
on the shortness and correctness of your an-
swers, 1 suppose you live by going round
the docks ¥’
‘No sir, T can’t go around the docks,
without a bodt and I ain’t got ons.’
‘Answer me sir. How do you get your
bread ?’
‘Sometimes at the bakers, and sometimes
I eat taters.’ :
{No more of your stupid nonsense.
do you support yourself 2?
‘Sometimes on my legs, and sometimes
on a cheer.” (chair,)
‘How do you keep yourself alive ¥’
‘By breathing, sir,’
‘T order you to answer this question cor-
rectly. How Jo you do?’
‘Pretty well I thank you.
do ¥ ;
‘I shall have to commit you.’
‘Well you'va commited yourself rst,
‘| that's some consolation.
How
How do you
A DOUBTFUL CHARACTER.
A letter from Nashville, to tho Press
says:
For the past two weeks the military aa-
thorities have been very strict, and as no
person 1s permitted to leave the city who is
not loyal, necessarilly a vast amount of
questioning tales place at the Provost Mar-
shal’s office. A few days ago, sa tall, de-
jeeted-looking, middle aged man made his
appearance before Col. Gillem, and solici-
ted a pass. The first question put by the
Colonel was—
‘Are you a loyal man ¥’
‘Well," said the mysterious looking solici-
tor, ‘I expect I am.’
You expect you are; don't you know
whether you are a Union man or not?’
‘I expect, I don’t know sir,’
The appearance of the man, and his man-
ner of conversation rather non-plusasd
Colonel Gililem, who continued hower-
er—
‘Where-do you wish to go sir ¥'
<I want to go home.’
‘Where is your home ?’
In East Tennessee*’
‘When did you arrive in this city
«Several years ago.’ =
‘Where was you at the commencement of
the rebellion sir #' :
‘In this city.’
‘Did you ever hear Andy Ewing make
any of his speeches ¥
«No, sir,’
‘ave you ever been in the Rebel Ar.
my?
‘No sir.’
‘Do you ever
against the Government - of the
States ¥’
*No sir.”
‘Have you a family in East Tennessee
sir
«Yes sir,—a wife and two daughters.’
‘How long is 1t since yog have seen your
family ¥
‘Ten years.’
“Ten years !
ring that time ¥’
«In the State Prison sir!’
‘Mr. Bent,’ said the Colonel, turning to
one of his clerks, ‘give this nan a pass to
Fast Tennessee,’
rel Al Pre
{7 An American paper annonnced the
illness of its editor, piously adding :
« All good paying subscribers are re.
quested to mention him in their prayers.—
The others need not, as ‘‘the prayers of the
wicked avail nothing according to good au-
thérity.”
intend to take up arms
United
Where have you been du
areal sce.
. [7 1t is easy to say grace, but not helg
80 casy to possess it. !
the money don’t last long.
spactfally informed that generally speaking, |
————
I” To gain wealth does not make
happy ; to lose it makes us miserable.