MIAMI CHIEF. (Rising.) And I renounce them also.They were signed By sottish braves—the Long-Knife'stavern-chiefs—Who sell their honor like a pack of fur,Make favour with the pale-face for his fee,And caper with the hatchet for his sport.I am a chief by right of blood, and flingYour false and flimsy treaties in your face.I am my nation's head, and own but oneAs greater than myself, and he is here!
[Pointing toTECUMSEH.]
TECUMSEH. You have your answer, and from those whoserightsStand in your own admission. But from me—The Shawanoe—the interloper here—Take the full draught of meaning, and wash downTheir dry and bitter truths. Yes! from the SouthMy people came—fall'n from their wide estateWhere Altamaha's uncongealing springsKept a perpetual summer in their sight—Sweet with magnolia blooms, and dropping balm,And scented breath of orange and of pine.And from the East the hunted Delawares came,Flushed from their coverts and their native streams;Your old allies, men ever true to you,Who, resting after long and weary flight,Are by your bands shot sitting on the ground.
HARRISON. Those men got ample payment for their lands,Full recompense, and just equivalent.
TECUMSEH. They flew from death to light upon it here!And many a tribe comes pouring from the East,Smitten with fire—their outraged women, maimed,Screaming in horror o'er their murdered babes,Whose sinless souls, slashed out by white men's swords,Whimper in Heaven for revenge. Oh, God!—'Tis thus the pale-face prays, then cries 'Amen':—He clamours, and his Maker answers him,Whilst our Great Spirit sleeps! O, no, no, no,—He does not sleep! He will avenge our wrongs!That Christ the white men murdered, and thought dead—Who, if He died for mankind, died for us—He is alive, and looks from heaven on this!Oh, we have seen your baseness and your guile;Our eyes are opened and we know your ways!No longer shall you hoax us with your pleas,Or with the serpent's cunning wake distrust,Range tribe 'gainst tribe—then shoot the remnant down,And in the red man's empty cabin grin,And shake with laughter o'er his desolate hearth.No, we are one! the red men all are oneIn colour as in love, in lands and fate!
HARRISON. Still, with the voice of wrath Tecumsehspeaks,And not with reason's tongue.
TECUMSEH. O keep your reason! It is a thief whichsteals away our lands.Your reason is our deadly foe, and writesThe jeering epitaphs for our poor graves.It is the lying maker of your books,Wherein our people's vengeance is set down,But not a word of crimes which led to it.These are hushed up and hid, whilst all our deeds,Even in self-defence, are marked as wrongsHeaped on your blameless heads.
But to the point! Just as our brother's SeventeenCouncil FiresUnite for self-protection so do we.How can you blame us, since your own exampleIs but our model and fair precedent?The Long-Knife's craft has kept our tribes apart,Nourished dissensions, raised distinctions up,Forced us to injuries which, soon as done,Are made your vile pretexts for bloody war.But this is past our nations now are one—Ready to rise in their imbanded strength.You promised to restore our ravaged landsOn proof that they are ours—that proof is here,And by the tongues of truth has answered you.Redeem your sacred pledges, and no moreOur "leaden birds" will sing amongst your corn:But love will shine on you, and startled peaceWill come again, and build by every hearth.Refuse—and we shall strike you to the ground!Pour flame and slaughter on your confines wide,Till the charred earth, up to the cope of Heaven,Reeks with the smoke of smouldering villages,And steam of awful fires half-quenched with blood.
[Citizens converse in undertones.]
TWANG. Did you ever hear the like! Ef I hed my shootin'- iron darn me ef I wouldn't draw a bead on thet barkin' savage. The hungry devil gits under-holts on our Guvner every time.
SLAUGH. You bet! I reckon he'd better put a lump o' bacon in his mouth to keep his bilin' sap o' passion down.
BLOAT. Thet's mor'n I'd do. This is jest what we git for allowin' the skulkin' devils to live. I'd vittle 'em on lead pills ef I was Guvner.
TWANG. Thet's so! Our civilizashun is jest this—we know what's what. Ef I hedmyway—
HARRISON. Silence, you fools! If you provoke him here your blood be on your heads.
GERKIN. Right you air, Guvner! We'll close our dampers.
TECUMSEH. My brother's ears have heard. Where is his tongue?
HARRISON. My honest ears ache in default of reason.Tecumseh is reputed wise, yet nowHis fuming passions from his judgment fly,Like roving steeds which gallop from the catch,And kick the air, wasting in wantonnessMore strength than in submission. His threats fallOn fearless ears. Knows he not of our force,Which in the East swarms like mosquitoes here?Our great Kentucky and Virginia fires?Our mounted men and soldier-citizens?These all have stings—let him beware of them!
TECUMSEH. Who does not know your vaunting citizens!Well drilled in fraud and disciplined in crime;But in aught else—as honor, justice, truth—A rabble, and a base disordered herd.We know them; and our nations, knit in one,Will challenge them, should this, our last appeal,Fall on unheeding ears. My brother, hearken!East of Ohio you possess our lands,Thrice greater than your needs, but west of itWe claim them all; then, let us make its floodA common frontier, and a sacred streamOf which our nations both may drink in peace.
HARRISON. Absurd! The treaties of Fort Wayne muststand.Your village chiefs are heads of civil rule,Whose powers you seek to centre in yourself,Or vest in warriors whose trade is blood.We bought from those, and from your peaceful men—Your wiser brothers—who had faith in us.
TECUMSEH. Poor, ruined brothers, weaned from honest lives!
HARRISON. They knew our wisdom, and preferred to sellTheir cabins, fields, and wilds of unused landsFor rich reserves and ripe annuities.As for your nations being one like ours—'Tis false—else would they speak one common tongue.Nay, more! your own traditions trace you here—Widespread in lapse of ages through the land—From o'er the mighty ocean of the West.What better title have you than ourselves,Who came from o'er the ocean of the East,And meet with you on free and common ground?Be reasonable, and let wisdom's wordsDisplace your passion, and give judgment ventThink more of bounty, and talk less of rights—Our hands are full of gifts, our hearts of love.
TECUMSEH. My brother's love is like the trader'swarmth—O'er with the purchase. Oh, unhappy lives—Our gifts which go for yours! Once we were strong.Once all this mighty continent was ours,And the Great Spirit made it for our use.He knew no boundaries, so had we peaceIn the vast shelter of His handiwork,And, happy here, we cared not whence we came.We brought no evils thence—no treasured hate,No greed of gold, no quarrels over God;And so our broils, to narrow issues joined,Were soon composed, and touched the ground of peace.Our very ailments, rising from the earth,And not from any foul abuse in us,Drew back, and let age ripen to death's hand.Thus flowed our lives until your people came,Till from the East our matchless misery came!Since then our tale is crowded with your crimes,With broken faith, with plunder of reserves—The sacred remnants of our wide domain—With tamp'rings, and delirious feasts of fire,The fruit of your thrice-cursed stills of death,Which make our good men bad, our bad men worse,Aye! blind them till they grope in open day,And stumble into miserable graves.Oh, it is piteous, for none will hear!There is no hand to help, no heart to feel,No tongue to plead for us in all your land.But every hand aims death, and every heart,Ulcered with hate, resents our presence here;And every tongue cries for our children's landTo expiate their crime of being born.Oh, we have ever yielded in the past,But we shall yield no more! Those plains are ours!Those forests are our birth-right and our home!Let not the Long-Knife build one cabin there—Or fire from it will spread to every roof,To compass you, and light your souls to death!
HARRISON. Dreams he of closing up our empty plains?Our mighty forests waiting for the axe?Our mountain steeps engrailed with iron and gold?There's no asylumed madness like to this!Mankind shall have its wide possession here;And these rough assets of a virgin worldStand for its coming, and await its hand.The poor of every land shall come to this,Heart-full of sorrows and shall lay them down.
LEFROY. (Springing to his feet.) The poor!What care your rich thieves for the poor?Those graspers hate the poor, from whom they spring,More deeply than they hate this injured race.Much have they taken from it—let them nowTake this prediction, with the red man's curse!The time will come when that dread power—the Poor—Whom, in their greed and pride of wealth, they spurn—Will rise on them, and tear them from their seats;Drag all their vulgar splendours down, and pluckTheir shallow women from their lawless beds,Yea, seize their puling and unhealthy babes,And fling them as foul pavement to the streets.In all the dreaming of the UniverseThere is no darker vision of despairs!
1ST OFFICER. What man is that? 'Tis not an Indian.
HARRISON. Madman, you rave!—you know not what you say.
TECUMSEH. Master of guile, this axe should speak for him!
[Drawing his hatchet as if to hurl it atHARRISON.]
2ND OFFICER. This man means mischief! Quick! Bring up the guard!
[GENERAL HARRISONand officers draw their swords. The warriors spring to their feet and cluster aboutTECUMSEH,their eyes fixed intently uponHARRISON,who stands unmoved.TWANGand his friends disappear. The soldiers rush forward and take aim, but are ordered not to fire.]
EnterHARRISONand fiveCOUNCILLORS.
HARRISON. Here are despatches from the President,As well as letters from my trusted friends,Whose tenor made me summon you to Council.
[Placing papers on table.]
1ST COUNCILLOR. Why break good news so gently? Is it true War is declared 'gainst England?
HARRISON. Would it were! That war is still deferred.Our news is draff, And void of spirit, since NewEngland turnsA fresh cheek to the slap of Britain's palm.Great God! I am amazed at such supineness.Our trade prohibited, our men impressed,Our flag insulted—still her people bend,Amidst the ticking of their wooden clocks,Bemused o'er small inventions. Out upon't!Such tame submission yokes not with my spirit,And sends my southern blood into my cheeks,As proxy for New England's sense of shame.
2ND COUNCILLOR. We all see, save New England, what todo;But she has eyes for her one interest—A war might sink it. So the way to warPuzzles imagining.
HARRISON. There is a wayWhich lies athwart the President's command.The reinforcements asked for from MonroeAre here at last, but with this strict injunction,They must not be employed save in defence,Or in a forced attack.
[Taking up a letter.]
Now, here is news, Fresh from the South, of boldTecumseh's work,The Creeks and Seminoles have conjoined,Which means a general union of the tribes,And ravage of our Southern settlements.Tecumseh's master hand is seen in this,And these fresh tidings tally with his threatsBefore he left Vincennes.
3RD COUNCILLOR. You had a close Encounter with him here.
HARRISON. Not over close, Nor dangerous—I saw he wouldnot strike.His thoughts outran his threats, and looked beyondTo wider fields and trials of our strength.
4TH COUNCILLOR. Our tree is now too bulky for his axe.
HARRISON. Don't underrate his power! But for our StatesThis man would found an empire to surpassOld Mexico's renown, or rich Peru.Allied with England, he is to be fearedMore than all other men.
1ST COUNCILLOR. You had some talk In private, ere he vanished to the South?
HARRISON. Mere words, yet ominous. Could we restoreOur purchases, and make a treaty line,All might be well; but who would stand to it?
2ND COUNCILLOR. It is not to be thought of.
OTHER COUNCILLORS. No, no, no.
HARRISON. In further parley at the river's edge,Scenting a coming war, he clapped his hands,And said the English whooped his people on,As if his braves were hounds to spring at us;Compared our nation to a whelming flood,And called his scheme a dam to keep it back—Then proffered the old terms; whereat I urgedA peaceful mission to the President.But, by apt questions, gleaning my opinion,Ere I was ware, of such a bootless trip,He drew his manly figure up, then smiled,And said our President might drink his wineIn safety in his distant town, whilst we—Over the mountains here—should fight it out:Then entering his bark, well-manned with braves,Bade me let matters rest till he returnedFrom his far mission to the distant tribes,Waved an adieu, and, in a trice, was gone.
2ND COUNCILLOR. Your news is but an earnest of his work.
4TH COUNCILLOR. This Chief's dispatch should be our ownexample.Let matters rest, forsooth, till he can setOur frontier in a blaze! Such cheap advicePulls with the President's, not mine.
HARRISON. Nor mine! The sum of my advice is to attackThe Prophet ere Tecumseh can return.
5TH COUNCILLOR. But what about the breach of your instructions?
HARRISON. If we succeed we need not fear the breach—In the same space we give and heal the wound.
[Enter a Messenger, who hands letters toHARRISON.]
Thank you, Missouri and good Illinois—Your governors are built of western clay.Howard and Edwards both incline with me,And urge attack upon the Prophet's force.This is the nucleus of Tecumseh's strength—His bold scheme's very heart. Let's cut it out.Yes! yes! and every other part will fail.
1ST COUNCILLOR. Let us prepare to go at once!
2ND COUNCILLOR. Agreed.
3RD COUNCILLOR. I vote for war.
5TH COUNCILLOR. But should the Prophet win?
4TH COUNCILLOR. Why then, the Prophet, not Tecumseh, kills us— Which has the keener axe?
1ST COUNCILLOR. Breech-clouted dogs! Let us attack them, and, with thongs of fire, Whip their red bodies to a deeper red.
HARRISON. This feeling bodes success, and with successComes war with England; for a well-won fightWill rouse a martial spirit in the landTo emulate our deeds on higher ground.Now hasten to your duties and prepare:Bronzed autumn comes, when copper-colored oaksDrop miserly their stiff leaves to the earth;And ere the winter's snow doth silver them,Our triumph must be wrought.
[Exeunt.]
[EnterIENAandMAMATEE,agitated.]
IENA. My heart is sad, and I am faint with fear.My friend, my more than mother, go again—Plead with the Prophet for a single day!Perchance within his gloomy heart will stirSome sudden pulse of pity for a girl.
MAMATEE. Alas, my Iena, it is in vain!He swore by Manitou this very morn,That thou should'st wed the chief, Tarhay, to-night.
IENA. Nay try once more, Oh Mamatee, once more!I had a dream, and heard the gusty breezeHurtle from out a sea of hissing pines,Then dwindle into voices, faint and sweet,Which cried—we come! It was my love and yours!They spoke to me—I know that they are near,And waft their love to us upon the wind.
MAMATEE. Some dreams are merely fancies in our sleep:I'll make another trial, but I feelYour only safety is in instant flight.
IENA. Flight! Where and how—beset by enemies?My fear sits like the partridge in the tree,And cannot fly whilst these dogs bark at me.
Enter three ofHARRISON'Sstaff Officers.
1ST OFFICER. Well, here's the end of all our northward marching!
2ND OFFICER. A peaceful end, if we can trust those chiefs Who parleyed with us lately.
3RD OFFICER. Yes, for if They mean to fight, why point us to a spot At once so strong and pleasant for our camp?
1ST OFFICER. Report it so unto our General!
[Exit3RD OFFICER.]
'Tis worth our long march through the forest wildTo view these silent plains! The Prophet's Town,Sequestered yonder like a hermitage,Disturbs not either's vast of solitude,But rather gives, like graveyard visitors,To deepest loneliness a deeper awe.
[Re enter3RD OFFICER.]
3RD OFFICER. I need not go, for Harrison is here.
[EnterGENERAL HARRISON,his force following.]
1ST OFFICER. Methinks you like the place; some thanks we owe Unto the Prophet's chiefs for good advice.
HARRISON. (Looking around keenly).These noble oaks, the streamlet to our rear,This rank wild grass—wood, water and soft beds!The soldier's luxuries are here together.
1ST OFFICER. Note, too, the place o'erlooks the springyplainWhich lies betwixt us and the Prophet's Town.I think, sir, 'tis a very fitting place.
HARRISON. A fitting place if white men were our foes;But to the red it gives a clear advantage.Sleep like the weasel here, if you are wise!
1ST OFFICER. Why, sir, their chiefs, so menacing atfirst,Became quite friendly at the last. They fearA battle, and will treat on any terms.The Prophet's tide of strength will ebb away,And leave his stranded bark upon the mire.
HARRISON. 'Tis the mixed craft of old dissemblingNature!If I could look upon her smallest web,And see in it but crossed and harmless hairs,Then might I trust the Prophet's knotted seine.I did not like the manner of those chiefsWho spoke so fairly. What but highest greatnessPlucks hatred from its seat, and in its steadPlants friendship in an instant? This our campIs badly placed; each coulee and ravineIs dangerous cover for approach by night;And all the circuit of the spongy plainA treacherous bog to mire our cavalry.They who directed us so warmly hereHad other than our comfort in their eye.
2ND OFFICER. Fear you a night-attack, sir?
HARRISON. Fear it! No! I but anticipate, and shallprepare.'Tis sunset, and too late for better choice,Else were the Prophet welcome to his ground.Pitch tents and draw our baggage to the centre;Girdle the camp with lynx-eyed sentinels;Detail strong guards of choice and wakeful menAs pickets in advance of all oar lines;Place mounted riflemen on both our flanks;Our cavalry take post in front and rear,But still within the lines of infantry,Which, struck at any point, must hold the groundUntil relieved. Cover your rifle pans—The thick clouds threaten rain. I look to youTo fill these simple orders to the letter.But stay! Let all our camp fires burnTill, if attacked, we form—then drown them out.The darkness falls—make disposition straight;Then, all who can, to sleep upon their arms.I fear me, ere night yields to morning pale,The warriors' yell will sound our wild reveille.
EnterIENA.
IENA. Tis night, and Mamatee is absent still!Why should this sorrow weigh upon my heart,And other lonely things on earth have rest?Oh, could I be with them! The lily shoneAll day upon the stream, and now it sleepsUnder the wave in peace—in cradle softWhich sorrow soon may fashion for my grave.Ye shadows which do creep into my thoughts—Ye curtains of despair! what is my fault,That ye should hide the happy earth from me?Once I had joy of it, when tender Spring,Mother of beauty, hid me in her leaves;When Summer led me by the shores of song,And forests and far-sounding cataractsMelted my soul with music. I have heardThe rough chill harpings of dismantled woods,When Fall had stripped them, and have felt a joyDeeper than ear could lend unto the heart;And when the Winter from his mountains wildLooked down on death, and, in the frosty sky,The very stars seemed hung with icicles,Then came a sense of beauty calm and cold,That weaned me from myself, yet knit me stillWith kindred bonds to Nature. All is past,And he—who won from me such love for him,And he—my valiant uncle and my friend,Comes not to lift the cloud that drapes my soul,And shield me from the fiendish Prophet's power.
[EnterMAMATEE.]
Give me his answer in his very words!
MAMATEE. There is a black storm raging in his mind—His eye darts lightning like the angry cloudWhich hangs in woven darkness o'er the earth.Brief is his answer—you must go to him.The Long-Knife's camp fires gleam among the oaksWhich dot yon western hill. A thousand menAre sleeping there cajoled to fatal dreamsBy promises the Prophet breaks to-night. Hark! 'tis thewar-song.
IENA. Dares the Prophet nowBetray Tecumseh's trust, and break his faith?
MAMATEE. He dares do anything will feed ambition.His dancing braves are frenzied by his tongue,Which prophesies revenge and victory.Before the break of day he will surpriseThe Long-Knife's camp, and hang our people's fateUpon a single onset.
IENA. Should he fail?
MAMATEE. Then all will fail;—Tecumseh's scheme will fail.
IENA. It shall not! Let us go to him at once!
MAMATEE. And risk your life?
IENA. Risk hovers everywhereWhen night and man combine for darksome deeds.I'll go to him, and argue on my knees—Yea, yield my hand—would I could give my heart!To stay his purpose and this act of ruin.
MAMATEE. He is not in the mood for argumentRash girl! they die who would oppose him now.
IENA. Such death were sweet as life—I go!But, first—Great Spirit! I commit my soul to Thee.
[Kneels.]
Enter thePROPHET.
PROPHET. My spells do work apace! Shout yourselveshoarse,Ye howling ministers by whom I climb!For this I've wrought until my weary tongue,Blistered with incantation, flags in speech,And half declines its office. Every braveInflamed by charms and oracles, is nowA vengeful serpent, who will glide ere mornTo sting the Long-Knife's sleeping camp to death.Why should I hesitate? My promises!My duty to Tecumseh! What are theseCompared with duty here? Where I perceiveA near advantage, there my duty lies;Consideration strong which overweighsAll other reason. Here is Harrison—Trepanned to dangerous lodgment for the night—Each deep ravine which grooves the prairie's breastA channel of approach; each winding creekA screen for creeping death. Revenge is sickTo think of such advantage flung aside. For what?To let Tecumseh's greatness grow,Who gathers his rich harvest of renownOut of the very fields that I have sown!By Manitou, I will endure no more!Nor, in the rising flood of our affairs,Fish like an osprey for this eagle longer.
But, soft!
It is the midnight hour when comesTarhay to claim his bride, (calls) Tarhay!Tarhay!
[EnterTARHAYwith several braves.]
TARHAY. Tarhay is here!
PROPHET. The Long-Knives die to-night.The spirits which do minister to meHave breathed this utterance within my ear.You know my sacred office cuts me offFrom the immediate leadership in fight.My nobler work is in the spirit-world,And thence come promises which make us strong.Near to the foe I'll keep the Magic Bowl,Whilst you, Tarhay, shall lead our warriors on.
TARHAY. I'll lead them; they are wild with eagerness.But fill my cold and empty cabin firstWith light and heat! You know I love your niece,And have the promise of her hand to-night.
PROPHET. She shall be yours!
(To the braves)
Go bring her here at once—But, look! Fulfilment of mypromise comesIn her own person.
EnterIENAandMAMATEE.
Welcome, my sweet niece! You have forestalled my message by these braves, And come unbidden to your wedding place.
IENA. Uncle! you know my heart is far away—
PROPHET. But still your hand is here! this little hand! (Pulling her forward)
IENA. Dare you enforce a weak and helpless girl,Who thought to move you by her misery?Stand back! I have a message for you too.What means the war-like song, the dance of braves,And bustle in our town?
PROPHET. It means that weAttack the foe to-night.
IENA. And risk our all?O that Tecumseh knew! his soul would rushIn arms to intercept you. What! break faith,And on the hazard of a doubtful strife,Stake his great enterprise and all our lives!The dying curses of a ruined raceWill wither up your wicked heart for this!
PROPHET. False girl! your heart is with our foes;Your hand I mean to turn to better use.
IENA. Oh, could it turn you from your mad intentHow freely would I give it! Drop this scheme,Dismiss your frenzied warriors to their beds;And, if contented with my hand, TarhayCan have it here.
TARHAY. I love you, Iena!
IENA. Then must you love what I do! Love our race!'Tis this love nerves Tecumseh to uniteIts scattered tribes—his fruit of noble toil,Which you would snatch unripened from his hand,And feed to sour ambition. Touch it not—Oh, touch it not Tarhay! and though my heartBreaks for it, I am yours.
PROPHET. His anyway,Or I am not the Prophet!
TARHAY. For my part I have no leaning to this rashattempt,Since Iena consents to be my wife.
PROPHET. Shall I be thwarted by a yearning fool!
(Aside.)
This soft, sleek girl, to outward seeming good,I know to be a very fiend beneath—Whose sly affections centre on herself,And feed the gliding snake within her heart.
TARHAY. I cannot think her so—
MAMATEE. She is not so!There is the snake that creeps among our race;Whose venomed fangs would bite into our lives,And poison all our hopes.
PROPHET. She is the head—The very neck of danger to me here,Which I must break at once! (aside)Tarhay—attend! I can see dreadful visions in the air;I can dream awful dreams of life and fate;I can bring darkness on the heavy earth;I can fetch shadows from our fathers' graves,And spectres from the sepulchres of hellWho dares dispute with me, disputes with death! Dosthear, Tarhay?
[TARHAY and braves cower before the PROPHET.]
TARHAY. I hear, and will obey. Spare me! Spare me!
PROPHET. As for this foolish girl,The hand she offers you on one condition,I give to you upon a better one;
And, since she has no mind to give her heartWhich, rest assured, is in her body stityThere,—take it at my hands!
FlingsIENAviolently towardTARHAY,into whose arms she falls fainting, and is then borne away byMAMATEE.
(ToTARHAY.) Go bring the braves to view theMystic TorchAnd belt of Sacred Beans grown from my fleshOne touch of it makes them invulnerableThen creep, like stealthy panthers, on the foe!
EnterHARRISON,officers and soldiers andBARRON.
HARRISON. A costly triumph reckoned by our slain!Look how some lie still clenched with savagesIn all-embracing death, their bloody handsGlued in each other's hair! Make burial straightOf all alike in deep and common graves:Their quarrel now is ended.
1ST OFFICER. I have heard.The red man fears our steel—'twas not so here;From the first shots, which drove our pickets in,Till daylight dawned they rushed upon our lines,And flung themselves upon our bayonet pointsIn frenzied recklessness of bravery.
BARRON. They trusted in the Prophet's rites and spells,Which promised them immunity from death.All night he sat on yon safe eminence,Howling his songs of war and mystery,Then fled, at dawn, in fear of his own braves.
[Enter an AIDE]
HARRISON. What tidings bring you from the Prophet'sTown?
AIDE. The wretched women with their children flyTo distant forests for concealment. InTheir village is no living thing save miceWhich scampered as we oped each cabin door.Their pots still simmered on the vacant hearths,Standing in dusty silence and desertion.Naught else we saw, save that their granariesWere crammed with needful corn.
HARRISON. Go bring it all—Then burn their village down!
[ExitAIDE.]
2ND OFFICER. This victoryWill shake Tecumseh's project to the baseWere I the Prophet I should drown myselfRather than meet him.
BARRON. We have news of him—Our scouts report him near in heavy force.
HARRISON. 'Twill melt or draw across the British line,And wait for war. But double the night watch,Lest he should strike, and give an instant careTo all our wounded men: to-morrow's sunMust light us on our backward march for homeThence Rumour's tongue will spread so proud a storyNew England will grow envious of our glory;And, greedy for renown so long abhorred,Will on old England draw the tardy sword!
[Enter thePROPHET,who gloomily surveys the place.]
PROPHET. Our people scattered, and our town in ashes!To think these hands could work such madness here—This envious head devise this misery!Tecumseh, had not my ambition drawnSuch sharp and fell destruction on our raceYou might have smiled at me! for I have matchedMy cunning 'gainst your wisdom, and have draggedMyself and all into a sea of ruin.
[EnterTECUMSEH.]
TECUMSEH. Devil! I have discovered you at last!You sum of treacheries, whose wolfish fangsHave torn our people's flesh—you shall not live!
[ThePROPHETretreats facing and followed byTECUMSEH.]
PROPHET. Nay—strike me not! I can explain it all!It was a woman touched the Magic Bowl,And broke the brooding spell.
TECUMSEH. Impostor! Slave! Why should I spare you?
[Lifts his hand as if to strike.]
PROPHET. Stay, stay, touch me not!One mother bore us in the self-same hour.
TECUMSEH. Then good and evil came to light together.Go to the corn-dance, change your name to villain!Away! Your presence tempts my soul to mischief.
[Exit thePROPHEThastily.]
Would that I were a woman, and could weep,And slake hot rage with tears! O spiteful fortune,To lure me to the limit of my dreams,Then turn and crowd the ruin of my toilInto the narrow compass of a night.My brother's deep disgrace—myself the scornOf envious harriers and thieves of fame,Who fain would rob me of the lawful meedOf faithful services and duties done—Oh, I could bear it all! But to beholdOur ruined people hunted to their graves—To see the Long-Knife triumph in their shame—This is the burning shaft, the poisoned woundThat rankles in my soul! But, why despair?All is not lost—the English are our friends.My spirit rises—manhood bear me up!I'll haste to Malden, join my force to theirs,And fall with double fury on our foes.Farewell ye plains and forests, but rejoice!Ye yet shall echo to Tecumseh's voice.
[EnterLEFROY.]
LEFROY. What tidings have you gleaned of Iena?
TECUMSEH. My brother meant to wed her to Tarhay—The chief who led his warriors to ruin;But, in the gloom and tumult of the night,She fled into the forest all alone.
LEFROY. Alone! In the wide forest all alone!Angels are with her now, for she is dead.
TECUMSEH. You know her to be skilful with the bow.'Tis certain she would strike for some great Lake—Erie or Michigan. At the DetroitAre people of our nation, and perchanceShe fled for shelter there. I go at onceTo join the British force.
[ExitTECUMSEH.]
LEFROY. But yesterday I climbed to Heaven upon theshining stairsOf love and hope, and here am quite cast down.My little flower amidst a weedy world,Where art thou now? In deepest forest shade?Or onward, where the sumach stands arrayedIn Autumn splendour, its alluring formFruited, yet odious with the hidden worm?Or, farther, by some still sequestered lake,Loon-haunted, where the sinewy panthers slakeTheir noon-day thirst, and never voice is heardJoyous of singing waters, breeze or bird,Save their wild waitings.—(A halloo without)'Tis Tecumseh calls! Oh Iena! If dead, where'er thouart—Thy saddest grave will be this ruined heart![Exit.]
EnterCHORUS.
War is declared, unnatural and wild,By Revolution's calculating sons!So leave the home of mercenary minds,And wing with me, in your uplifted thoughts,Away to our unyielding Canada!There to behold the Genius of the Land,Beneath her singing pine and sugared tree,Companioned with the lion, Loyalty.
[EnterGENERAL BROCKreading a despatch from Montreal.]
BROCK. Prudent and politic Sir George Prevost!Hull's threatened ravage of our western coast,Hath more breviloquence than your despatch.Storms are not stilled by reasoning with air,Nor fires quenched by a syrup of sweet words.So to the wars, Diplomacy, for nowOur trust is in our arms and argumentsDelivered only from the cannon's mouth!
[Rings.]
[Enter anORDERLY. ]
ORDERLY. Your Exc'llency?
BROCK. Bid Colonel Proctor come!
[Exit Orderly.]
Now might the head of gray ExperienceShake o'er the problems that surround us here.I am no stranger to the brunt of war,But all the odds so lean against our sideThat valour's self might tremble for the issue,Could England stretch its full, assisting handThen might I smile though velvet-footed timeStruck all his claws at once into our flesh;But England, noble England, fights for life,Couching the knightly lance for liberty'Gainst a new dragon that affrights the world.And, now, how many noisome elementsWould plant their greed athwart this country's good!How many demagogues bewray its cause!How many aliens urge it to surrender!Our present good must match their present ill,And, on our frontiers, boldest deeds in war,Dismay the foe, and strip the loins of faction.
[EnterCOLONEL PROCTOR. ]
Time waits not our conveniency; I trustYour preparations have no further needs.
PROCTOR. All is in readiness, and I can leaveFor Amherstburg at once.
BROCK. Then tarry not,For time is precious to us now as powder.You understand my wishes and commands?
PROCTOR. I know them and shall match them with obedience.
BROCK. Rest not within the limit of instructionsIf you can better them, for they should bindThe feeble only; able men enlargeAnd shape them to their needs. Much must be doneThat lies in your discretion. At DetroitHull vaunts his strength, and meditates invasion,And loyalty, unarmed, defenceless, bare,May let this boaster light upon our shoresWithout one manly motion of resistance.So whilst I open Parliament at York,Close it again, and knit our volunteers,Be yours the task to head invasion off.Act boldly, but discreetly, and so drawOur interest to the balance, that affairsMay hang in something like an even scale,Till I can join you with a fitting force,And batter this old Hull until he sinks.So fare-you-well—success attend your mission!
PROCTOR. Farewell, sir! I shall do my best in this,And put my judgment to a prudent useIn furtherance of all.
[ExitPROCTOR.]
BROCK. Prudent he will be—'tis a vice in him.For in the qualities of every mindThere's one o'ergrows, and prudence in this manTops all the rest. 'Twill suit our present needs.But, boldness, go with me! for, if I knowMy nature well, I shall do something soonWhose consequence will make the nation cheer,Or hiss me to my grave.
[Re-enterORDERLY. ]
ORDERLY. Your Exc'llency,Some settlers wait without.
BROCK. Whence do they come?
[EnterCOLONEL MACDONELL.]
ORDERLY. From the raw clearings up Lake Erie, Sir.
BROCK. Go bring them here at once. [ExitORDERLY.] The very men Who meanly shirk their serviceto the crown!A breach of duty to be remedied,For disaffection like an ulcer spreadsUntil the caustic ointment of the law,Sternly applied, eats up and stays corruption.
[(EnterDEPUTATION OF YANKEE SETTLERS).]
Good morrow, worthy friends; I trust you bearGood hopes in loyal hearts for Canada.
1ST SETTLER. That kind o' crop's a failure in ourcounty.Gen'ral, we came to talk about this warWith the United States. It ain't quite fairTo call out settlers from the other side.
BROCK. From it yet on it too! Why came you thence?Is land so scarce in the United States?Are there no empty townships, wilds or wastesIn all their borders but you must encroachOn ours? And, being here, how dare you makeYour dwelling-places harbours of seditionAnd furrow British soil with alien ploughsTo feed our enemies? There is not scope,Not room enough in all this wildernessFor men so base.
2ND SETTLER. Why, General, we thought You wanted settlers here.
BROCK. Settlers indeedBut with the soldier's courage to defendThe land of their adoption. This attackOn Canada is foul and unprovoked;The hearts are vile, the hands are traitorousThat will not help to hurl invasion back.Beware the lariat of the law! 'Tis thrownWith aim so true in Canada it bringsSedition to the ground at every cast.
1ST SETTLER. Well, General, we're not your Britishsort,But if we were we know that CanadaIs naught compared with the United States.We have no faith in her, but much in them.
BROCK. You have no faith! Then take a creed from me!For I believe in Britain's Empire, andIn Canada, its true and loyal son,Who yet shall rise to greatness, and shall standAt England's shoulder helping her to guardTrue liberty throughout a faithless world.Here is a creed for arsenals and camps,For hearts and heads that seek their country's good;So, go at once, and meditate on it!I have no time to parley with you now—But think on this as well! that traitors, spies,And aliens who refuse to take up arms,Forfeit their holdings, and must leave this land,Or dangle nearer Heaven than they wish.So to your homes, and ponder your condition.
[Exeunt Settlers ruefully.]
This foreign element will hamper us.Its alien spirit ever longs for change,And union with the States.
MACDONELL. O fear it not,Nor magnify the girth of noisy men!Their name is faction, and their numbers few.While everywhere encompassing them standsThe silent element that doth not change;That points with steady finger to the Crown—True as the needle to the viewless pole,And stable as its star!
BROCK. I know it well,And trust to it alone for earnestness,Accordant counsels, loyalty and faith.But give me these—and let the Yankees come!With our poor handful of inhabitants,We can defend our forest wilderness,And spurn the bold invader from our shores.
[Re-enterORDERLY.]
ORDERLY. Your boat is ready, sir!
BROCK. Man it at once—I shall forthwith to York.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter twoU. E. LOYALISTS,separately.]
1ST U.E. LOYALIST. Well met, my friend! A stirrer like myself.
2ND U. E. LOYALIST. Yes, affairs make me so. Such stirring times Since Brock returned and opened Parliament! Read you his speech?
1ST U. E. LOYALIST. That from the Throne?
2ND U.E. LOYALIST. Ay, that!
1ST U.E. LOYALIST. You need not ask, since 'tis onevery tongue,Unstaled by repetition. I affirmWords never showered upon more fruitful soilTo nourish valour's growth.
2ND U. E. LOYALIST. That final phrase—Oh it struck home: a sentence to be framedAnd hung in every honourable heartFor daily meditation.
"We are engaged in an awful and eventful contest. By unanimity and dispatch in our councils, and by vigour in our operations, we may teach the enemy this lesson, that a country defended by free men, enthusiastically devoted to the cause of their king and constitution, can never be conquered."
1ST U. E. LOYALIST. That reaches far; a text to fortifyImperial doctrine and Canadian rights.Sedition skulks, and feels its blood a-cold,Since first it fell upon the public ear.
2ND U. E. LOYALIST. There is a magic in this soldier'stongue.O language is a common instrument;But when a master touches it—what sounds!
1ST U. E. LOYALIST. What sounds indeed!But Brock can use his swordStill better than his tongue. Our state affairs,Conned and digested by his eager mindDraw into form, and even now his voiceCries, Forward! To the Front!
2ND U. E. LOYALIST. Look—here he comes!
1ST U.E. LOYALIST. There's matter in the wind; let's draw a-near.
[EnterGENERAL BROCK,accompanied byMACDONELL, NICHOL, ROBINSONand other Canadian Officers and friends conversing.]
BROCK. 'Tis true our Province faces heavy odds:Of regulars but fifteen hundred menTo guard a frontier of a thousand miles;Of volunteers what aidance we can drawFrom seventy thousand widely scattered souls.A meagre showing 'gainst the enemy'sIf numbers be the test. But odds lie notIn numbers only, but in spirit too—Witness the might of England's little isle!And what made England great will keep her so—The free soul and the valour of her sons;And what exalts her will sustain you nowIf you contain her courage and her faith.So not the odds so much are to be fearedAs private disaffection, treachery—Those openers of the door to enemies—And the poor crouching spirit that gives wayEre it is forced to yield.
ROBINSON. No fear of that!
BROCK. I trust there is not; yet I speak of itAs what is to be feared more than the odds.For like to forests are communities—Fair at a distance, entering you findThe rubbish and the underbrush of states,'Tis ever the mean soul that counts the odds,And, where you find this spirit, pluck it up—'Tis full of mischief.
MACDONELL. It is almost dead.England's vast war, our weakness, and the eagleWhetting his beak at Sandwich, with one clawAlready in our side, put thought to steepIn cold conjecture for a time, and gaveA text to alien tongues. But, since you came,Depression turns to smiling, and men seeThat dangers well-opposed may be subduedWhich shunned would overwhelm us.
BROCK. Hold to this!For since the storm has struck us we must face it.What is our present count of volunteers?
NICHOL. More than you called for have assembled, Sir—The flower of York and Lincoln.
BROCK. Some will goTo guard our frontier at Niagara.Which must be strengthened even at the costOf York itself. The rest to the Detroit,Where, with Tecumseh's force, our regulars,And Kent and Essex loyal volunteers,We'll give this Hull a taste of steel so coldHis teeth will chatter at it, and his schemeOf easy conquest vanish into air.
[Enter aCOMPANYofMILITIAwith theirOFFICERS,unarmed. They salute, march across the stage, and make their exit.]
What men are those? Their faces are familiar.
ROBINSON. Some farmers whom you furloughed at FortGeorge,To tend their fields, which still they leave half-reapedTo meet invasion.
BROCK. I remember it!The jarring needs of harvest-time and war,Twixt whose necessities grave hazards lay.
ROBINSON. They only thought to save their children'sbread,And then return to battle with light hearts.For, though their hard necessities o'erpoisedTheir duty for the moment, these are men.Who draw their pith from loyal roots, their sires,Dug up by revolution, and cast outTo hovel in the bitter wilderness,And wring, with many a tussle, from the wolfThose very fields which cry for harvesters.
BROCK. O I observed them closely at Fort George—Red-hot for action in their summer-sleeves,And others drilling in their naked feet—Our poor equipment (which disgraced us there)Too scanty to go round. See they get arms,An ample outfit and good quarters too.
NICHOL. They shall be well provided for in all.
[EnterCOLONELS BABY [Footnote: Pronounced Baw- bee.]andELLIOTT.]
BROCK. Good morning both; what news from home, Baby?
BABY. None, none your Excellency—whereat we fearThis Hull is in our rear at Amherstburg.
BROCK. Not yet; what I unsealed last night reportsTecumseh to have foiled the enemyIn two encounters at the Canard bridge.A noble fellow; as I hear, humane,Lofty and bold and rooted in our cause.
BABY. I know him well; a chief of matchless force.If Mackinaw should fall—that triple keyTo inland seas and teeming wilderness—The bravest in the west will flock to him.
BROCK. 'Twere well he had an inkling of affairs.My letters say he chafes at my delay,Not mine, but thine, thou dull and fatuous House—Which, in a period that whips delay,When men should spur themselves and flash in action,Let'st idly leak the unpurchasable hoursFrom our scant measure of most precious time!
BABY. 'Tis true, Your Exc'llency, some cankered mindsHave been a daily hind'rance in our House.No measure so essential, bill so fair,But they would foul it by some cunning clause,Wrenching the needed statute from its aimBy sly injection of their false opinion.But this you cannot charge to us whose heartsAre faithful to our trust; nor yet delay;For, Exc'llency, you hurry on so fastThat other men wheeze after, out of breath,And haste itself, disparaged, lags behind.
BROCK. Friends, pardon me, you stand not in reproof.But haste, the evil of the age in peace,Is war's auxiliary, confederateWith time himself in urgent great affairs.So must we match it with the flying hours!I shall prorogue this tardy Parliament,And promptly head our forces for DetroitMeanwhile, I wish you, in advance of us,To speed unto your homes. Spread everywhereThroughout the West, broad tidings of our coming,Which, by the counter currents of reaction,Will tell against our foes and for our friends.As for the rest, such loyal men as youNeed not our counsel; so, good journey both!
BABY. We shall not spare our transport or ourselves.
[Enter a travel-stainedMESSENGER.]
ELLIOTT. Good-bye.
BABY. Tarry a moment, Elliott! Here comes a messenger— let's have his news.
MESSENGER. It is his Excellency whom I seek. I come, sir, with despatches from the west.
BROCK. Tidings I trust to strengthen all our hopes.
MESSENGER. News of grave interest, this not the worst.
[Handing a letter toGENERAL BROCK.]
BROCK. No, by my soul, for Mackinaw is ours!That vaunted fort, whose gallant capture freesOur red allies. This is important news! What ofDetroit!
MESSENGER. Things vary little there.Hull's soldiers scour our helpless settlements,Our aliens join them, but the loyal mass—Sullen, yet overawed, longs for relief.
BROCK. I hope to better this anon. You, sirs,
[To his aides.]
Come with me; here is matter to despatchAt once to Montreal. Farewell, my friends.
[To Baby and Elliott.]
BABY. We feel now what will follow this, farewell!
[ExeuntBABY, ELLIOTTandMESSENGER.]
BROCK. Now, gentlemen, prepare against our needs,That no neglect may check us at the start,Or mar our swift advance. And, for our cause,As we believe it just in sight of God,So should it triumph in the sight of man,Whose generous temper, at the first, assignsRight to the weaker side, yet coldly drawsDamning conclusions from its failure. NowBetake you to your tasks with double zeal;And, meanwhile, let our joyful tidings spread!
[Exeunt.]
Enter twoOLD MENof York, severally.
1ST OLD MAN. Good morrow, friend! a fair and fittingtimeTo take our airing, and to say farewell.'Tis here, I think, we bid our friends God-speed,A waftage, peraventure, to their graves.
2ND OLD MAN. 'Tis a good cause they die for, if theyfallBy this grey pate, if I were young again,I would no better journey. Young again!This hubbub sets old pulses on the boundAs I were in my teens.
Entera CITIZEN.
What news afoot?
CITIZEN. Why everyone's afoot and coming here.York's citizens are turned to warriors;The learned professions go a-soldiering,And gentle hearts beat high for Canada!For, as you pass, on every hand you see,Through the neglected openings of each house—Through doorways, windows—our Canadian maidsStrained by their parting lovers to their breasts;And loyal matrons busy round their lords,Buckling their arms on, or, with tearful eyes,Kissing them to the war!
1ST OLD MAN. The volunteers Will pass this way?
CITIZEN. Yes, to the beach, and thereEmbark for Burlington, whence they will marchTo Long Point, taking open boats again,To plough the shallow Erie's treacherous flood.Such leaky craft as farmers market with:Rare bottoms, one sou-wester-driven waveWould heave against Lake Erie's wall of shore,And dash to fragments. 'Tis an awful hazard—A danger which in apprehension lies,Yet palpable unto the spirit's touch,As earth to finger.
1ST OLD MAN. Let us hope a calm May lull this fretful and ill-tempered lake Whilst they ascend.
[Military music is heard.]
CITIZEN. Hark! here our soldiers come.
EnterGENERAL BROCK,with his aides,MACDONELLandGLEGG, NICHOL,and other Officers, followed by the Volunteers in companies. A concourse of citizens.
MACDONELL. Our fellows show the mark of training, sir,And many, well in hand, yet full of fire,Are burning for distinction.
BROCK. This is good: Love of distinction is thefruitful soilFrom which brave actions spring; and, superposedOn love of country, these strike deeper root,And grow to greater greatness. Cry a halt—A word here—then away!
[Flourish. The volunteers halt, form line, and order arms.]
Ye men of Canada! Subjects with me of that ImperialPowerWhose liberties are marching round the earth:I need not urge you now to follow me,Though what befalls will try your stubborn faithIn the fierce fire and crucible of war.I need not urge you, who have heard the voiceOf loyalty, and answered to its call.Who has not read the insults of the foe—The manifesto of his purposed crimes?That foe, whose poison-plant, false-liberty,Runs o'er his body politic and killsWhilst seeming to adorn it, fronts us now!Threats our poor Province to annihilate,And should he find the red men by our side—Poor injured souls, who but defend their own—Calls black Extermination from its hell,To stalk abroad, and stench your land with slaughter.These are our weighty arguments for war,Wherein armed justice will enclasp its sword,And sheath it in its bitter adversary;Wherein we'll turn our bayonet-points to pens,And write in blood:—Here lies the poor invader;Or be ourselves struck down by hailing death;Made stepping-stones for foes to walk upon—The lifeless gangways to our country's ruin.For now we look not with the eye of fear;We reck not if this strange mechanic frame—Stop in an instant in the shock of war.Our death may build into our country's life,And failing this, 'twere better still to dieThan live the breathing spoils of infamy.Then forward for our cause and Canada!Forward for Britain's Empire—peerless archOf Freedom's raising, whose majestic spanIs axis to the world! On, on, my friends!The task our country sets must we perform—Wring peace from war, or perish in its storm!
[Excitement and leave-taking. The volunteers break into column and sing:]
O hark to the voice from the lips of the free!O hark to the cry from the lakes to the sea!Arm! arm! the invader is wasting our coasts,And tainting the air of our land with his hosts.Arise! then, arise! let us rally and form,And rush like the torrent, and sweep like the storm,On the foes of our King,—of our country adored,Of the flag that was lost, but in exile restored!
And whose was the flag? and whose was the soil?And whose was the exile, the suffering, the toil?Our Fathers'! who carved in the forest a name,And left us rich heirs of their freedom and fame.Oh, dear to our hearts is that flag, and the landOur Fathers bequeathed—'tis the work of their hand!And the soil they redeemed from the woods with renownThe might of their sons will defend for the Crown!
Our hearts they are one, and our hands they are free,From clime unto clime, and from sea unto sea!And chaos will come to the States that annoy,But our Empire united what foe can destroy?Then away! to the front! march! comrades away!In the lists of each hour crowd the work of a day!We will follow our leader to fields far and nigh,And for Canada fight, and for Canada die!
[Exeunt with military music.]