The Project Gutenberg eBook ofTecumseh : a DramaThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Tecumseh : a DramaAuthor: Charles MairRelease date: November 1, 2004 [eBook #6843]Most recently updated: December 30, 2020Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Georgia Young, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TECUMSEH : A DRAMA ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Tecumseh : a DramaAuthor: Charles MairRelease date: November 1, 2004 [eBook #6843]Most recently updated: December 30, 2020Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Georgia Young, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions
Title: Tecumseh : a Drama
Author: Charles Mair
Author: Charles Mair
Release date: November 1, 2004 [eBook #6843]Most recently updated: December 30, 2020
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Georgia Young, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TECUMSEH : A DRAMA ***
Produced by Georgia Young, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions.
"When the white men first set foot on our shores, they were hungry; they had no places on which to spread their blankets or to kindle their fires. They were feeble; they could do nothing for themselves. Our fathers commiserated their distress, and shared freely with them whatever the Great Spirit had given to his red children."
FromTECUMSEH'Sspeech to the Osages.
TECUMSEH(Chief of the Shawanoes).
THE PROPHET(Brother of Tecumseh).
TARHAY(A Chief in love with Iena).
STAYETA(Chief of the Wyandots).
MIAMI, DELAWARE, KICKAPOO and DAHCOTA CHIEFS.Warriors, Braves, Josakeeds and Runners.
MAMATEE(Wife of Tecumseh).
IENA(Niece of Tecumseh).
WEETAMORE, WINONAand other Indian Maidens.
GENERAL HARRISON(Governor of IndianaTerritory).
BARRON(An Indian Agent).
TWANG, SLAUGH, GERKIN and BLOAT(Citizens ofVincennes).
Five Councillors of Indiana Territory, Officers, Soldiers, Volunteers, Orderlies and Scouts.
GENERAL BROCK(Administrator of the Government ofUpper Canada).
COLONEL(afterwards General)PROCTOR. GLEGG,MACDONELL,Aides-de-camp to General Brock.
NICHOL, BABY, ELIOTT,Colonels of CanadianVolunteers.
McKEE, ROBINSON,Captains of Canadian Volunteers.
LEFROY(A poet-artist, enamoured of Indian life, and in love with IENA.)
Two Old men of York, U. E. Loyalists, and other Citizens, Alien Settlers, Officers, Soldiers, Volunteers, Orderlies and Messengers.
Enter thePROPHET.
PROPHET. Twelve moons have wasted, and no tidings still!
Tecumseh must have perished! Joy has tearsAs well as grief, and mine will freely flow—Sembling our women's piteous privilege—Whilst dry ambition ambles to its ends.My schemes have swelled to greatness, and my nameHas flown so far upon the wings of fearThat nations tremble at its utterance.Our braves abhor, yet stand in awe of me,Who ferret witchcraft out, commune with Heaven,And ope or shut the gloomy doors of death.All feelings and all seasons suit ambition!Yet my vindictive nature hath a craft,In action slow, which matches mother-earth's:First seed-time—then the harvest of revenge.Who works for power, and not the good of men,Would rather win by fear than lose by love.Not so Tecumseh—rushing to his ends,And followed by men's love—whose very foesTrust him the most. Rash fool! Him do I dread,And his imperious spirit. Twelve infant moonsHave swung in silver cradles o'er these woods,And, still no tidings of his enterprise,Which—all too deep and wide—has swallowed him.And left me here unrivalled and alone.
Enter anINDIAN RUNNER.
Ha! There's a message in your eyes—what now?
RUNNER. Your brother, great Tecumseh, has returned,And rests himself a moment ere he comesTo counsel with you here.
[Exit Runner.]
PROPHET. He has returned!So then the growing current of my powerMust fall again into the stately streamOf his great purpose. But a moment pastI stood upon ambition's height, and nowMy brother comes to break my greatness up,And merge it in his own. I know his thoughts—That I am but a helper to his ends;And, were there not a whirlpool in my soulOf hatred which would fain ingulf our foes,I would engage my cunning and my craft'Gainst his simplicity, and win the lead.But, hist, he comes! I must assume the roleBy which I pander to his purposes.
EnterTECUMSEH.
TECUMSEH. Who is this standing in the darkened robes?
PROPHET. The Prophet! Olliwayshilla, who probesThe spirit-world, and holds within his kenLife's secrets and the fateful deeds of men.The "One-Eyed!" Brother to the Shooting Star—
TECUMSEH. With heart of wax, and hands not made for war.
PROPHET. Would that my hands were equal to my hate!Then would strange vengeance traffic on the earth;For I should treat our foes to what they crave—Our fruitful soil—yea, ram it down their throats,And choke them with the very dirt they love.'Tis you Tecumseh! You, are here at last,And welcome as the strong heat-bearing SpringWhich opens up the pathways of revenge.What tidings from afar?
TECUMSEH. Good tidings thence.I have not seen the Wyandots, but allThe distant nations will unite with usTo spurn the fraudful treaties of Fort Wayne.From Talapoosa to the HarricanawI have aroused them from their lethargy.From the hot gulf up to those confines rude,Where Summer's sides are pierced with icicles,They stand upon my call. What tidings here?
PROPHET. No brand has struck to bark our enterpriseWhich grows on every side. The Prophet's robe,That I assumed when old Pengasega died—With full accord and countenance from you—Fits a strong shoulder ampler far than his;And all our people follow me in fear.
TECUMSEH. Would that they followed you in love!Proceed! My ears are open to my brother's tongue.
PROPHET. I have myself, and by swift messengers,Proclaimed to all the nations far and near,I am the Open-Door, and have the powerTo lead them back to life. The sacred fireMust burn forever in the red-man's lodge,Else will that life go out. All earthly goodsBy the Great Spirit meant for common useMust so be held. Red shall not marry white,To lop our parent stems; and never moreMust vile, habitual cups of deadlinessDistort their noble natures, and unseatThe purpose of their souls. They must returnTo ancient customs; live on game and maize;Clothe them with skins, and love both wife and child,Nor lift a hand in wrath against their race.
TECUMSEH. These are wise counsels which are noisedafar,And many nations have adopted themAnd made them law.
PROPHET. These counsels were your own!Good in themselves, they are too weak to swayOur fickle race. I've much improved on themSince the Great Spirit took me by the hand.
TECUMSEH. Improved! and how? Your mission was to leadOur erring people back to ancient ways—Too long o'ergrown—not bloody sacrifice.They tell me that the prisoners you have ta'en—Not captives in fair fight, but wanderersBewildered in our woods, or such as tillOutlying fields, caught from the peaceful plough—You cruelly have tortured at the stake.Nor this the worst! In order to augmentYour gloomy sway you craftily have playedUpon the zeal and frenzy of our tribes,And, in my absence, hatched a monstrous chargeOf sorcery amongst them, which hath sparedNor feeble age nor sex. Such horrid deedsRecoil on us! Old Shataronra's graveSends up its ghost, and Tetaboxti's hairs—White with sad years and counsel—singed by you!In dreams and nightmares, float on every breeze.Ambition's madness might stop short of this,And shall if I have life.
PROPHET. The Great SpiritHath urged me, and still urges me to all.He puts his hand to mine and leads me on.Do you not hear him whisper even now—"Thou art the Prophet?" All our followersBehold in me a greater than yourself,And worship me, and venture where I lead.
TECUMSEH. Your fancy is the common slip of fools,Who count the lesser greater being near.Dupe of your own imposture and designs,I cannot bind your thoughts! but what you doHenceforth must be my subject; so take heed,And stand within my sanction lest you fall.
PROPHET. You are Tecumseh—else you should choke for this!
[Haughtily crosses the stage and pauses.]
Stay! Let me think! I must not break with him—'Tis premature. I know his tender part,And I shall touch it.
[Recrosses the stage.]
Brother, let me ask,Do you remember how our father fell?
TECUMSEH. Who can forget Kanawha's bloody fray?He died for home in battle with the whites.
PROPHET. And you remember, too, that boyish morn,When all our braves were absent on the chase—That morn when you and I half-dreaming layIn summer grass, but woke to deadly painOf loud-blown bugles ringing through the air.They came!—a rush of chargers from the woods,With tramplings, cursings, shoutings manifold,And headlong onset, fierce with brandished swords,Of frontier troopers eager for the fight.Scarce could a lynx have screened itself from sight,So sudden the attack—yet, trembling there,We crouched unseen, and saw our little townStormed, with vile slaughter of small babe and crone,And palsied grandsire—you remember it?
TECUMSEH. Remember it! Alas, the echoingOf that wild havoc lingers in my brain!O wretched age, and injured motherhood,And hapless maiden-wreck!
PROPHET. Yet this has beenOur endless history, and it is thisWhich crams my very veins with cruelty.My pulses bound to see those devils fallBrained to the temples, and their women castAs offal to the wolf.
TECUMSEH. Their crimes are great—Our wrongs unspeakable! yet my revengeIs open war. It never shall be saidTecumseh's hate went armed with cruelty.There's reason in revenge; but spare our own!These gloomy sacrifices sap our strength;And henceforth from your wizard scrutiniesI charge you to forbear. But who's the whiteYou hold as captive?
PROPHET. He is called LEFROY—A captive, but too free to come and go.Our warriors struck his trail by chance, and foundHis tent close by the Wabash, where he layWith sprained ankle, foodless and alone.He had a book of pictures with him thereOf Long-Knife forts, encampments and their chiefs—Most recognizable; so, reasoning thence,Our warriors took him for a daring spy,And brought him here, and tied him to the stake.Then he declared he was a Saganash—No Long-Knife he! but one who loved our race,And would adopt our ways—with honeyed words,Couched in sweet voice, and such appealing eyesThat Iena, our niece—who listened near—Believing, rushed, and cut him from the tree.I hate his smiles, soft ways, and smooth-paced tread,And would, ere now, have killed him but for her;For ever since, unmindful of her race,She has upheld him, and our matrons thinkThat he has won her heart.
TECUMSEH. But not her hand! This cannot be, and I mustsee to it:Red shall not marry white—such is our law.But graver matters are upon the wing,Which I must open to you. Know you, then,The nation that has doomed our Council-Fires—Splashed with our blood—will on its Father turn,Once more, whose lion-paws, stretched o'er the sea,Will sheathe their nails in its unnatural tides,Till blood will flow, as free as pitch in spring,To gum the chafed seams of our sinking bark.This opportunity, well-nursed, will giveA respite to our wrongs, and heal our wounds;And all our nations, knit by me and rangedIn headship with our Saganash allies,Will turn the mortal issue 'gainst our foes,And wall our threatened frontiers with their slain.But till that ripened moment, not a sheafOf arrows should be wasted, not a braveShould perish aimlessly, nor discord reignAmongst our tribes, nor jealousy distrainThe large effects of valour. We must nowPack all our energies. Our eyes and earsNo more must idle with the hour, but workAs carriers to the brain, where we shall store,As in an arsenal, deep schemes of war!
[A noise and shouting without.]
But who is this?
[EnterBARRONaccompanied and half-dragged by warriors. ThePROPHETgoes forward to meet him.]
BARRON. I crave protection as a messengerAnd agent sent by General Harrison.Your rude, unruly braves, against my wish,Have dragged me here as if I were a spy.
PROPHET. What else!Why come you here if not a spy?Brouillette came, and Dubois, who were spies—Now you are here. Look on it! There's your grave.
[Pointing to the ground atBARRON'Sfeet.]
TECUMSEH. (Joining them.) Unhand this man!He is a messenger, And not a spy.Your life, my friend, is safeIn these rough woods as in your general's town.But, quick—your message?
BARRON. The Governor of Indiana sendsThis letter to you, in the which he says (Readingletter)"You are an enemy to the Seventeen Fires.I have been told that you intend to liftThe hatchet 'gainst your father, the great Chief,Whose goodness, being greater than his fearOr anger at your folly, still would stretchHis bounty to his children who repent,And ask of him forgiveness for the past.Small harm is done which may not be repaired,And friendship's broken chain may be renewed;But this is in your doing, and dependsUpon the choice you make. Two roadsAre lying now before you: one is large,Open and pleasant, leading unto peace,Your own security and happiness;The other—narrow, crooked and constrained—Most surely leads to misery and death.Be not deceived! All your united forceIs but as chaff before the Seventeen Fires.Your warriors are brave, but so are ours;Whilst ours are countless as the forest leaves,Or grains of sand upon the Wabash shores.Rely not on the English to protect you!They are not able to protect themselves.They will not war with us, for, if they do,Ere many moons have passed our battle flagShall wave o'er all the forts of Canada.What reason have you to complain of us?What have we taken? or what treaties maimed?You tell us we have robbed you of your lands—Bought them from nameless braves and village chiefsWho had no right to sell—prove that to us,And they will be restored. I have full powerTo treat with you. Bring your complaint to me,And I, in honor, pledge your safe return."
TECUMSEH. Is this it all?
BARRON. Yes, all. I have commandsTo bear your answer back without delay.
PROPHET. This is our answer, then, to Harrison:Go tell that bearded liar we shall come,With forces which will pledge our own return!
TECUMSEH. What shall my answer be?
PROPHET. Why, like my own—There is no answer save that we shall go.
TECUMSEH. (ToBARRON.) I fear that our complaintlies all too deep For your Chief's curing. The GreatSpirit gaveThe red men this wide continent as theirs,And in the east another to the white;But, not content at home, these crossed the sea,And drove our fathers from their ancient seats.Their sons in turn are driven to the Lakes,And cannot further go unless they drown.Yet now you take upon yourselves to sayThis tract is Kickapoo, this Delaware,And this Miami; but your Chief should knowThat all our lands are common to our race!How can one nation sell the rights of allWithout consent of all? No! For my part I am a Red Man,not a Shawanoe,And here I mean to stay. Go to your chief,And tell him I shall meet him at Vincennes.
[Exeunt all butTECUMSEH.]
What is there in my nature so supineThat I must ever quarrel with revenge?From vales and rivers which were once our ownThe pale hounds who uproot our ancient gravesCome whining for our lands, with fawning tongues,And schemes and subterfuge and subtleties.O for a Pontiac to drive them backAnd whoop them to their shuddering villages!O for an age of valour like to his,When freedom clothed herself with solitude,And one in heart the scattered nations stood,And one in hand. It comes! and mine shall beThe lofty task to teach them to be free—To knit the nations, bind them into one,And end the task great Pontiac begun!
EnterLEFROY,carrying his rifle, and examining a knot of wild flowers.
LEFROY. This region is as lavish of its flowersAs Heaven of its primrose blooms by night.This is the Arum which within its rootFolds life and death; and this the Prince's Pine,Fadeless as love and truth—the fairest formThat ever sun-shower washed with sudden rain.This golden cradle is the Moccasin Flower,Wherein the Indian hunter sees his hound;And this dark chalice is the Pitcher-PlantStored with the water of forgetfulness.Whoever drinks of it, whose heart is pure,Will sleep for aye 'neath foodful asphodel,And dream of endless love. I need it not!I am awake, and yet I dream of love.It is the hour of meeting, when the sunTakes level glances at these mighty woods,And Iena has never failed till now,To meet me here! What keeps her? Can it beThe Prophet? Ah, that villain has a thought,Undreamt of by his simple followers,Dark in his soul as midnight! If—but no—He fears her though he hates! What shall I do?Rehearse to listening woods, or ask these oaksWhat thoughts they have, what knowledge of the past?They dwarf me with their greatness, but shall comeA meaner and a mightier than they,And cut them down. Yet rather would I dwellWith them, with wildness and its stealthy forms—Yea, rather with wild men, wild beasts and birds,Than in the sordid town that here may rise.For here I am a part of Nature's self,And not divorced from her like men who plodThe weary streets of care in search of gain.And here I feel the friendship of the earth:Not the soft cloying tenderness of handWhich fain would satiate the hungry soulWith household honey-combs and parloured sweets,But the strong friendship of primeval things—The rugged kindness of a giant heart,And love that lasts. I have a poem madeWhich doth concern earth's injured majesty—Be audience, ye still untroubled stems!
(Recites)
There was a time on this fair continentWhen all things throve in spacious peacefulness.The prosperous forests unmolested stood,For where the stalwart oak grew there it livedLong ages, and then died among its kind.The hoary pines—those ancients of the earth—Brimful of legends of the early world,Stood thick on their own mountains unsubdued.And all things else illumined by the sun,Inland or by the lifted wave, had rest.The passionate or calm pageants of the skiesNo artist drew; but in the auburn westInnumerable faces of fair cloudVanished in silent darkness with the day.The prairie realm—vast ocean's paraphrase—Rich in wild grasses numberless, and flowersUnnamed save in mute Nature's inventoryNo civilized barbarian trenched for gain.And all that flowed was sweet and uncorrupt.The rivers and their tributary streams,Undammed, wound on forever, and gave upTheir lonely torrents to weird gulfs of sea,And ocean wastes unshadowed by a sail.And all the wild life of this western worldKnew not the fear of man; yet in those woods,And by those plenteous streams and mighty lakes,And on stupendous steppes of peerless plain,And in the rocky gloom of canyons deep,Screened by the stony ribs of mountains hoarWhich steeped their snowy peaks in purging cloud,And down the continent where tropic sunsWarmed to her very heart the mother earth,And in the congeal'd north where silence selfAched with intensity of stubborn frost,There lived a soul more wild than barbarous;A tameless soul—the sunburnt savage free—Free, and untainted by the greed of gain:Great Nature's man content with Nature's food.
But hark! I hear her footsteps in the leaves—And so my poem ends.
EnterIENA,downcast.
My love! my love!
What! Iena in tears! your looks, like clouds,O'erspread my joy which, but a moment past,Rose like the sun to high meridian.Ah, how is this? She trembles, and she starts,And looks with wavering eyes through oozing tears,As she would fly from me. Why do you weep?
IENA. I weep, for I have come to say—farewell.
LEFROY. Farewell! I have fared well in love till now;For you are mine, and I am yours, so sayFarewell, farewell, a thousand times farewell.
IENA. How many meanings has the word? since yoursIs full of joy, but mine, alas, of pain.The pale-face and the Shawanoe must part.
LEFROY. Must part? Yes part—we parted yesterday—And shall to-day—some dream disturbs my love.
IENA. Oh, that realities were dreams! 'Tis notA dream that parts us, but a stern command.Tecumseh has proclaimed it as his law—Red shall not marry white; so must you leave;And therefore I have come to say farewell.
LEFROY. That word is barbed, and like an arrow aimed.The maid who saved my life would mar it too!
IENA. Speak not of that! Your life's in danger now.Tecumseh has returned, and—knowing all—Has built a barrier betwixt our loves,More rigid than a palisade of oak.
LEFROY. What means he? And what barrier is this?
IENA. The barrier is the welfare of our race—Wherefore his law—"Red shall not marry white."His noble nature halts at cruelty,So fear him not! But in the Prophet's hand,Dark, dangerous and bloody, there is death,And, sheltered by Tecumseh's own decree,He who misprizes you, and hates, will strike—Then go at once! Alas for Iena,Who loves her race too well to break its law.
LEFROY. I love you better than I love my race;And could I mass my fondness for my friends,Augment it with my love of noble brutes,Tap every spring of reverence and respect,And all affections bright and beautiful—Still would my love for you outweigh them all.
IENA. Speak not of love! Speak of the Long-Knife'shate!Oh, it is pitiful to creep in fearO'er lands where once our fathers stept in pride!The Long-Knife strengthens, whilst our race decays,And falls before him as our forests fall.First comes his pioneer, the bee, and soonThe mast which plumped the wild deer fats his swine.His cattle pasture where the bison fed;His flowers, his very weeds, displace our own—Aggressive as himself. All, all thrust back!Destruction follows us, and swift decay.Oh, I have lain for hours upon the grass,And gazed into the tenderest blue of heaven—Cleansed as with dew, so limpid, pure and sweet—All flecked with silver packs of standing cloudMost beautiful! But watch them narrowly!Those clouds will sheer small fleeces from their sides,Which, melting in our sight as in a dream,Will vanish all like phantoms in the sky.So melts our heedless race! Some weaned away,And wedded to rough-handed pioneers,Who, fierce as wolves in hatred of our kind,Yet from their shrill and acid women turn,Prizing our maidens for their gentleness.Some by outlandish fevers die, and some—Caught in the white man's toils and vices mean—Court death, and find it in the trader's cup.And all are driven from their heritage,Far from our fathers' seats and sepulchres,And girdled with the growing glooms of war;Resting a moment here, a moment there,Whilst ever through our plains and forest realmsBursts the pale spoiler, armed, with eager quest,And ruinous lust of land. I think of all—And own Tecumseh right. 'Tis he aloneCan stem this tide of sorrows dark and deep;So must I bend my feeble will to his,And, for my people's welfare, banish love.
LEFROY. Nay, for your people's welfare keep your love!My heart is true: I know that braggart nation,Whose sordid instincts, cold and pitiless,Would cut you off, and drown your Council-Fires.I would defend you, therefore keep me here!My love is yours alone, my hand I give,With this good weapon in it, to your race.
IENA. Oh, heaven help a weak untutored maid,Whose head is warring 'gainst a heart that tells,With every throb, I love you. Leave me! Fly!
LEFROY. I kneel to you—it is my leave-taking,So, bid me fly again, and break my heart!
(IENAsings.)
Fly far from me,Even as the daylight flies,And leave me in the darkness of my pain!Some earlier love will come to thee again,And sweet new moons will rise,And smile on it and thee.
Fly far from me,Even whilst the daylight wastes—Ere thy lips burn me in a last caress;Ere fancy quickens, and my longings press,And my weak spirit hastesFor shelter unto thee!
Fly far from me,Even whilst the daylight pales—So shall we never, never meet again!Fly! for my senses swim—Oh, Love! Oh, Pain!—Help! for my spirit fails—I cannot fly from thee!
[IENAsinks intoLEFROY'Sarms.]
LEFROY. No Iena! You cannot fly from me—My heart is in your breast, and yours in mine;Therefore our love—
EnterTECUMSEH,followed byMAMATEE.
TECUMSEH. False girl! Is this your promise?Would that I had a pale-face for a niece—Not one so faithless to her pledge! You oweAll duty and affection to your race,Whose interest—the sum of our desires—Traversed by alien love, drops to the ground.
IENA. Tecumseh ne'er was cruel until now.Call not love alien which includes our race—Love for our people, pity for their wrongs!He loves our race because his heart is here—And mine is in his breast. Oh, ask him there,And he will tell you—
LEFROY. Iena, let me speak!Tecumseh, we as strangers have becomeStrangely familiar through sheer circumstance,Which often breeds affection or disdain,Yet lighting but the surface of the man,Shows not his heart. I know not what you think,And care not for your favour or your love,Save as desert may crown me. Your decree,"Red shall not marry white," is arbitrary,And off the base of nature; for if theyShould marry not, then neither should they love.Yet Iena loves me, and I love her.Be merciful! I ask not IenaTo leave her race; I rather would engageThese willing arms in her defence and yours.Heap obligation up, conditions stern—But send not your cold "Nay" athwart our lives.
IENA. Be merciful! Oh, uncle, pity us!
TECUMSEH. My pity, Iena, goes with reproach,Blunting the edge of anger; yet my willIs fixed, and the command to be obeyed—This stranger must depart—you to your lodge!
MAMATEE. Tecumseh, I am in the background here,As ever I have been in your affection.For I have ne'er known what good women prize—Earth's greatest boon to them—a husband's love.
TECUMSEH. My nation has my love, in which you share,With special service rendered to yourself;So that your cabin flows with mouffles sweet,And hips of wapiti and bedded robes.Teach me my duty further if you will!My love is wide, and broods upon my race.
MAMATEE. The back is clad—the heart, alas! goes bare.Oh, I would rather shiver in the snow—My heart downed softly with Tecumseh's love—Than sleep unprized in warmest couch of fur.I know your love is wide, and, for that IShare but a millionth part of it, and feelIts meagreness, I plead most eagerlyFor this poor white, whose heart is full of love,And gives it all to her.
TECUMSEH. It cannot be!You know not what you ask. 'Tis 'gainst our law,Which, breached, would let our untamed people through.
LEFROY. I care not for your cruel law! The heartHas statutes of its own which make for love.
TECUMSEH. You'd cross me too! This child's play of theheart,Which sterner duty has repressed in me,Makes even captives bold. (Aside.) I like hiscourage!
MAMATEE. If duty makes Tecumseh's heart grow cold,Then shame on it! and greater shame on himWho ever yet showed mercy to his foes,Yet, turning from his own, in pity's spiteDenies it to a girl. See, here I kneel!
IENA. And I! O uncle, frown not on our love!
TECUMSEH. By the Great Spirit this is over much!My heart is made for pity, not for war,Since women's tears unman me. Have your will!I shall respect your love, (To Lefroy.) yoursafety too.I go at once to sound the WyandotsConcerning some false treaties with the whites.The Prophet hates you, therefore come with me.
[ThePROPHETrushes in with a band of Braves.]
PROPHET. She's here! Take hold of her and bear her off!
TECUMSEH. (Menacingly) Beware! Lay not a finger on the girl!
[The Braves fall back.]
PROPHET. There is no law Tecumseh will not break,When women weep, and pale-face spies deceive.
MAMATEE. Ah, wretch! not all our people's groans couldwringA single tear from out your murderous eye.
PROPHET. This is my captive, and his life is mine!
[SeizingLEFROY,and lifting his hatchet.]
IENA. (Rushing toLEFROY) Save him! Save him!
TECUMSEH. Your life will go for his—One blow and you are doomed!
[TECUMSEHgrasps thePROPHET'Suplifted axe.]
EnterTECUMSEHandLEFROY.
TECUMSEH. No guard or outlook—here! This is moststrange.Chance reigns where prudence sleeps!
Enter aBRAVE.
Here comes a braveWith frenzy in his faceWhere is the Prophet?
BRAVE. He fasts alone within the medicine-lodge,And talks to our Great Spirit. All our braves,Huddling in fear, stand motionless without,Thrilled by strange sounds, and voices not of earth.
TECUMSEH. How long has it been thus?
BRAVE. Four nights have passedAnd none have seen his face; but all have heardHis dreadful tongue, in incantations deep,Fetch horrors up—vile beings flashed from hell,Who fought as devils fight, until the lodgeShook to its base with struggling, and the earthQuaked as, with magic strength, he flung them down.These strove with him for mastery of our fate;But, being foiled, Yohewa has appeared,And, in the darkness of our sacred lodge,Communes with him.
TECUMSEH. Our Spirit great and good!He comes not here for nought. What has he promised?
BRAVE. Much! for henceforth we are invulnerable.The bullets of the Long-Knives will rebound,Like petty hailstones, from our naked breasts;And, in the misty morns of our attack,Strange lights will shine on them to guide our aim,Whilst clouds of gloom will screen us from their sight.
TECUMSEH. The Prophet is a wise interpreter,And all his words, by valour backed, will stand;For valour is the weapon of the soul,More dreaded by our vaunting enemiesThan the plumed arrow, or the screaming ball.What wizardry and witchcraft has he foundConspiring 'gainst our people's good?
BRAVE. Why, none! Wizard and witch are weeded out, hesays;Not one is left to do us hurt.
TECUMSEH. 'Tis well! My brother has the eyeball of thehorse,And swerves from danger. (Aside.) Bid ourwarriors come! I wait them here.
[ExitBRAVE.]
The Prophet soon will follow.
LEFROY. Now opportunity attend my heartWhich waits for Iena! True love's behest,Outrunning war's, will bring her to my armsEre cease the braves from gasping wonderment.
TECUMSEH. First look on service ere you look on love;You shall not see her here.
LEFROY. My promisesAre sureties of my service—
TECUMSEH. But your deeds,Accomplishments; our people count on deeds.Be patient! Look upon our warriorsRoped round with scars and cicatrized wounds,Inflicted in deep trial of their spiritTheir skewered sides are proofs of manly souls,Which—had one groan escaped from agony—Would all have sunk beneath our women's heels,Unfit for earth or heaven. So try your heart,And let endurance swallow all love's sighs.Yoke up your valour with our people's cause,And I, who love your nation, which is just,When deeds deserve it, will adopt you here,By ancient custom of our race, and join Iena's hand toyours.
LEFROY. Your own hand first In pledge of this!
TECUMSEH. It ever goes with truth!
LEFROY. Now come some wind of chance, and show me herBut for one heavenly moment! as when leavesAre blown aside in summer, and we seeThe nested oriole.
[Enter Chiefs and warriors—The warriors cluster aroundTECUMSEH,shouting and discharging their pieces.]
TECUMSEH. My chiefs and braves!
MIAMI CHIEF. Fall back! Fall back! Ye press too close on him.
TECUMSEH. My friends! our joy is like to meetingstreams,Which draw into a deep and prouder bed.
[Shouts from the warriors.]
DELAWARE CHIEF. Silence, ye braves! let great Tecumseh speak!
[The warriors fall back.]
TECUMSEH. Comrades, and faithful warriors of our race!Ye who defeated Hartnar and St Clair,And made their hosts a winter's feast for wolves!I call on you to follow me again,Not now for war, but as forearmed for fight.As ever in the past so is it still:Our sacred treaties are infringed and torn;Laughed out of sanctity, and spurned away;Used by the Long-Knife's slave to light his fire,Or turned to kites by thoughtless boys, whose wristsAnchor their fathers' lies in front of heaven.And now we're asked to Council at Vincennes;To bend to lawless ravage of our lands,To treacherous bargains, contracts false, whereinOne side is bound, the other loose as air!Where are those villains of our race and bloodWho signed the treaties that unseat us here;That rob us of rich plains and forests wide;And which, consented to, will drive us henceTo stage our lodges in the Northern Lakes,In penalties of hunger worse than death?Where are they? that we may confront them nowWith your wronged sires, your mothers, wives and babes,And, wringing from their false and slavish lipsConfession of their baseness, brand with shameThe traitor hands which sign us to our graves.
MIAMI CHIEF. Some are age-bent and blind, and otherssprawl,And stagger in the Long-Knife's villages;And some are dead, and some have fled away,And some are lurking in the forest here,Sneaking, like dogs, until resentment cools.
KICKAPOO CHIEF. We all disclaim their treaties. Shouldthey come,Forced from their lairs by hunger, to our doors,Swift punishment will light upon their heads.
TECUMSEH. Put yokes upon them! let their mouths bebound!For they are swine who root with champing jawsTheir fathers' fields, and swallow their own offspring.
Enter thePROPHETin his robe—his face discoloured.
The Prophet! Welcome, my brother, from the lodge ofdreams!Hail to thee, sagest among men—great heirOf all the wisdom of Pengasega!
PROPHET. This pale-face here again! this hateful snake,Who crawls between our people and their laws!(Aside.)Your greeting, brother, takes the chill from mine,When last we parted you were not so kind.
TECUMSEH. The Prophet's wisdom covers all. He knowsWhy Nature varies in her handiwork,Moulding one man from snow, the next from fire—
PROPHET. Which temper is your own, and blazes up,In winds of passion like a burning pine.
TECUMSEH. 'Twill blaze no more unless to scorch ourfoes.My brother, there's my hand—for I am grievedThat aught befell to shake our proper love.Our purpose is too high, and full of danger;We have too vast a quarrel on our handsTo waste our breath on this.
[Steps forward and offers his hand.]
PROPHET. My hand to yours.
SEVERAL CHIEFS. Tecumseh and the Prophet are rejoined!
TECUMSEH. Now, but one petty cloud distains our sky.My brother, this man loves our people well.
[Pointing toLEFROY.]
LEFROY. I know he hates me, yet I hope to winMy way into his heart.
PROPHET. There—take my hand! I must dissemble.Would this palm were poison! (Aside.) (ToTECUMSEH)What of the Wyandots? And yet I know!I have been up among the clouds, and downInto the entrails of the earth, and seenThe dwelling-place of devils. All my dreamsAre from above, and therefore favour us.
TECUMSEH. With one accord the Wyandots disclaimThe treaties of Fort Wayne, and burn with rage.Their tryst is here, and some will go with meTo Council at Vincennes. Where's Winnemac?
MIAMI CHIEF. That recreant has joined our enemies,And with the peace-pipe sits beside their fire,And whins away our lives.
KICKAPOO CHIEF. The Deaf-Chief, too,With head awry, who cannot hear us speakThough thunder shouted for us from the skies,Yet hears the Long-Knives whisper at Vincennes;And, when they jest upon our miseries,Grips his old leathern sides, and coughs with laughter.
DELAWARE CHIEF. And old Kanaukwa—famed when we wereyoung—Has hid his axe, and washed his honours off.
TECUMSEH. 'Tis honor he has parted with, not honors;Good deeds are ne'er forespent, nor wiped away.I know these men; they've lost their followers,And, grasping at the shadow of command,Where sway and custom once had realty,By times, and turn about, follow each other.They count for nought—but Winnemac is true,Though over-politic; he will not leave us.
PROPHET. Those wizened snakes must be destroyed at once!
TECUMSEH. Have mercy, brother—those poor men are old.
PROPHET. Nay, I shall teaze them till they stingthemselves;Their rusty fangs are doubly dangerous.
TECUMSEH. What warriors are ready for Vincennes?
WARRIORS. All! All are ready. Tecumseh leads us on—we follow him.
TECUMSEH. Four hundred warriors will go with me,All armed, yet only for securityAgainst the deep designs of Harrison.For 'tis my purpose still to temporize,Not break with him in war till once againI scour the far emplacements of our tribes.Then shall we close at once on all our foes.They claim our lands, but we shall take their lives;Drive out their thievish souls, and spread their bonesTo bleach upon the misty Alleghanies;Or make death's treaty with them on the spot,And sign our bloody marks upon their crownsFor lack of schooling—ceding but enoughOf all the lands they covet for their graves.
MIAMI CHIEF. Tecumseh's tongue is housed in wisdom'scheeks;His valour and his prudence march together.
DELAWARE CHIEF. 'Tis wise to draw the distant nationson.This scheme will so extend the Long-Knife force,In lines defensive stretching to the sea,Their bands will be but morsels for our braves.
PROPHET. How long must this bold project take to ripen?Time marches with the foe, and his surveyorsAlready smudge our forests with their fires.It frets my blood and makes my bowels turnTo see those devils blaze our ancient oaks,Cry "right!" and drive their rascal pickets down.Why not make war on them at once?
TECUMSEH. Not now! Time will make room for weightieraffairs.Be this the disposition for the hour:Our warriors from Vincennes will all return,Save twenty—the companions of my journey—And this brave white, who longs to share our toil,And win his love by deeds in our defence.You, brother, shall remain to guard our town,Our wives, our children, all that's dear to us—Receive each fresh accession to our strength;And from the hidden world, which you inspect,Draw a divine instruction for their souls.Go, now, ye noble chiefs and warriors!Make preparation—I'll be with you soon.To-morrow we shall make the Wabash boil,And beat its current, racing to Vincennes.
[Exeunt all butTECUMSEHand thePROPHET.]
PROPHET. I shall return unto our sacred lodge,And there invoke the Spirit of the WindTo follow you, and blow good tidings back.
TECUMSEH. Our strait is such we need the help ofheaven.Use all your wisdom, brother, but—beware!Pluck not our enterprise while it is green,And breed no quarrel here till I return.Avoid it as you would the rattling snake;And, when you hear the sound of danger, shrink,And face it not, unless with belts of peace.White wampum, not the dark, till we can strikeWith certain aim. Can I depend on you?
PROPHET. Trust you in fire to burn, or cold to freeze?So may you trust in me. The heavy chargeWhich you have laid upon my shoulders nowWould weigh the very soul of rashness down.
[Exit thePROPHET.]
TECUMSEH. I think I can depend on him—I must!Yet do I know his crafty nature well—His hatred of our foes, his love of self,And wide ambition. What is mortal man?Who can divine this creature that doth takeSome colour from all others? Nor shall IPush cold conclusions 'gainst my brother's sumOf what is good—so let dependence rest!
[Exit.]
Enter CitizensGERKIN, SLAUGH and TWANG.
GERKIN. Ain't it about time Barron was back, Jedge?
TWANG. I reckon so. Our Guvner takes a crazy sight more pains than I would to sweetin thet ragin' devil Tecumseh's temper. I'd sweetin it wi' sugar o lead ef I hadmyway.
SLAUGH. It's a reekin' shame—dang me ef it aint. End thet two-faced, one-eyed brother o' his, the Prophet.— I'll be darned ef folks don't say thet the Shakers in them 'ere parts claims him fer a disciple!
TWANG. Them Shakers is a queer lot. They dance jest like wild Injuns, and thinks we orter be kind to the red rascals, end use them honestly.
GERKIN. Wall! Thet's what our Guvner ses tew. But I reckon he's shammin' a bit Twist you and me, he's on the make like the rest o' us. Think o' bein' kind to a red devil thet would lift your har ten minutes arter! End as fer honesty—I say "set 'em up" every time, and then rob 'em. Thet's the way to clar them out o' the kentry. Whiskey's better 'n gunpowder, end costs less than fightin' 'em in the long run.
EnterCITIZEN BLOAT.
TWANG. Thet's so! Hello, Major, what's up? You look kind o' riled to-day.
BLOAT. Wall, Jedge, I dew feel right mad—have you heerd the noos?
TWANG. No! has old Sledge bust you at the keerds again?
BLOAT. Old Sledge be darned! I had jest clar'd him out o' continentals—fifty to the shillin'—at his own game, when in ript Roudi—the Eyetalian that knifed the Muskoe Injun for peekin' through his bar-room winder last spring—jest down from Fort Knox. You know the chap, General; you was on his jury.
SLAUGH. I reckon I dew. The Court was agin him, but we acquitted him afore the Chief-Justice finished his charge, and gave him a vote o' thanks to boot. There's a heap o' furriners creepin' inter these parts—poor downtrodden cusses from Europe—end, ef they're all like Roudi, they'll dew—a'most as hendy wi' the knife as our own people. But what's up?
BLOAT. Roudi saw Barron at Fort Knox, restin' thar on his way back from the Prophet's Town, end he sez thet red assassin Tecumseh's a-cumin' down wi' four hundred o' his painted devils to convarse wi' our Guvner. They're all armed, he sez, end will be here afore mid- day.
SLAUGH. Wall! our Guvner notified him to come—he's only gettin' what he axed for. There'll be a deal o' loose har flitterin' about the streets afore night, I reckon. Harrison's a heap too soft wi' them red roosters; he h'aint got cheek enough.
GERKIN. I've heerd say the Guvner, end the Chief Justice tew, thinks a sight o' this tearin' red devil. They say he's a great man. They say, tew, thet our treaty Injuns air badly used—thet they shouldn't be meddled wi' on their resarves, end should hev skoolin'.
BLOAT. Skoolin'! That gits me! Dogoned ef I wouldn't larn them jest one thing—what them regler officers up to the Fort larns their dogs—"to drap to shot," only in a different kind o' way like; end, es fer their resarves, I say, give our farmers a chance—let them locate!
TWANG. Thet's so, Major! What arthly use air they— plouterin' about their little bits o' fields, wi' their little bits o' cabins, end livin' half the time on mush- rats? I say, let them move out, end give reliable citizens a chance.
SLAUGH. Wall, I reckon our Guvner's kind's about played out. They call themselves the old stock—the clean pea —the rale gentlemen o' the Revolooshun. But, gentlemen, ain't we the Revolooshun? Jest wait till the live citizens o' these United States end Territories gits a chance, end we'll show them gentry what a free people, wi' our institooshuns,kindo. There'll be no more talk o' skoolin fer Injuns, you bet! I'd give them Kernel Crunch's billet.
GERKIN. What was thet, General?
SLAUGH. Why, they say he killed a hull family o' redskins, and stuck 'em up as scar' crows in his wheat fields. Gentlemen, there's nothin' like original idees!
TWANG. Thet war an original idee! The Kernel orter hev tuk out a patent. I think I've heerd o' Crunch. Wam't he wi' Kernel Crawford, o' the melish', at one time?
SLAUGH Whar?
TWANG. Why over to the Muskingum. You've heerd o' themDelaware Moravians over to the Muskingum, surely?
SLAUGH. Oh, them convarted chaps! but I a'most forgit the carcumstance.
TWANG. Wall, them red devils had a nice resarve thar— as yieldin' a bit o' sile as one could strike this side o' the Alleghanies. They was all convarted by the Moravians, end pertended to be as quiet and peaceable as the Shakers hereabout But Kernel Crawford—who knew good sile when he sot his eyes on it—diskivered thet them prayin' chaps had helped a war-party from the North, wi' provisions—or thort they did, which was the same thing. So—one fine Sunday—he surrounds their church wi' his melish'—when the Injuns was all a- prayin'—end walks in himself, jest for a minute or two, end prays a bit so as not to skeer them tew soon, end then walks out, end locks the door. The Kernel then cutely—my heart kind o' warms to thet man—put a squad o' melish' at each winder wi' their bayonets pinted, end sot fire to the Church, end charred up the hull kit, preacher and all! The heft o' them was burnt; but some thet warn't thar skinned out o' the kentry, end got lands from the British up to the Thames River in Canady, end founded what they call the Moravian Towns thar; and thar they is still—fur them Britishers kind o' pampers the Injuns, so they may git at our scalps.
SLAUGH. I reckon we'll hev a tussle wi' them gentry afore long. But for Noo England we'd a hed it afore now; but them Noo Englanders kind o' curries to the Britishers. A war would spile their shippin', end so they're agin it. But we h'aint got no ships to spile in this western kentry, end so I reckon we'll pitch in.
GERKIN. We'd better git out o' this Injun fry-pan fust, old hoss! I could lick my own weight in wild-cats, but this ruck o' Injuns is jest a little tew hefty.
BLOAT. Maybe they want to come to skool, end start store, end sich!
GERKIN. Gentlemen—I mean to send my lady down stream, end I reckon you'd better dew the same wi' your 'uns— jest fer safety like. My time's limited—will you liquor?
ALL. You bet!
BLOAT. (Meditatively) Skoolin! Wall, I'll be darned!
[Exeunt.]
EnterGENERAL HARRISON,and some Officers of the American Army.
HARRISON. What savage handiwork keeps Barron back?
EnterBARRON.
Ah, here he comes, his looks interpreting Mischief and failure! It is as I feared. What answer do you bring?
BARRON. Tecumseh comesTo council, with four hundred men at back,To which, with all persuasion, I objected—As that it would alarm our citizens,Whose hasty temper, by suspicion edged,Might break in broils of quarrel with his braves;But, sir, it was in vain—so be prepared!Your Council records may be writ in blood.
HARRISON. Will he attack us, think you?
BARRON. No, not now. His present thought is tointimidate.But, lest some rash and foulmouthed citizenShould spur his passion to the run, fore-arm!
HARRISON. Tut! Arms are scarce as soldiers in our town,And I am sick of requisitioning.Nay, we must trust to something else than arms.Tecumseh is a savage but in name—Let's trust to him!What says he of our treaties?
BARRON. O, he discharges them as heavy loads,Which borne by red men only, break their backs.All lands, he says, are common to his race;Not to be sold but by consent of all.
HARRISON. Absurd! This proposition would preventAll purchase and all progress. No, indeed;We cannot tie our hands with such conditions.What of the Prophet? Comes he with the rest?
BARRON. The Prophet stays behind.
HARRISON. He is a foilUsed by Tecumseh to augment his greatness;And, by good husbandry of incantation,And gloomy charms by night, this Prophet worksSo shrewdly on their braves that every man,Inflamed by auguries of victory,Would rush on death.
1ST OFFICER. Why, General, I heard He over-trumpt you once and won the trick.
HARRISON. How so?
1ST OFFICER. Well, once, before his braves, 'tis said,You dared him to a trial of his spells,Which challenge he accepted, having heardFrom white men of a coming sun-eclipse.Then, shrewdly noting day and hour, he calledBoldly his followers round him, and declaredThat he would hide the sun. They stood and gazed,And, when the moon's colossal shadow fell,They crouched upon the ground, and worshipped him.
HARRISON. He caught me there, and mischief came of it.Oh, he is deep. How different those brothers!One dipt in craft, the dye of cruelty,The other frank and open as the day.
Enter anORDERLY.
ORDERLY. Tecumseh and his braves have reached the landing!
[Excitement. All rise hastily.]
HARRISON. This room is smaller than our audience:Take seats and benches to the portico—There we shall treat with him.
[Exeunt all butGENERAL HARRISON.]
Could I but strainMy charge this chief might be our trusty friend.Yet I am but my nation's servitor;Gold is the king who overrides the right,And turns our people from the simple ways,And fair ideal of our fathers' lives.
[Exit.]
[Curtain rises and discoversGENERAL HARRISON,army officers and citizens, of various quality, includingTWANG, SLAUGH, GERKINandBLOAT, _seated in the portico. A sergeant and guard of soldiers near by.
Enter_ TECUMSEHand his followers withLEFROYin Indian dress. They all stop at the grove.]
HARRISON. Why halts he there? Go tell him he is welcome to our house.
[An Orderly goes down with message.]
1ST OFFICER. How grave and decorous they look— "the mien Of pensive people born in ancient woods." But look at him! Look at Tecumseh there— How simple in attire! that eagle, plume Sole ornament, and emblem of his spirit. And yet, far-scanned, there's something in his face That likes us not. Would we were out of this!
HARRISON. Yes; even at a distance I can seeHis eyes distilling anger. 'Tis no signOf treachery, which ever drapes with smilesThe most perfidious purpose. Our poor strengthWould fall at once should he break out on us;But let us hope 'tis yet a war of witsWhere firmness may enact the part of force.
[Orderly returns.]
What answer do you bring?
ORDERLY. Tecumseh says: "Houses are built for whites— the red man's house, Leaf-roofed, and walled with living oak, is there—
[Pointing to the grove.]
Let our white brother meet us in it!"
2ND OFFICER. Oh! White brother! So he levels to your height, And strips your office of its dignity.
3RD OFFICER. 'Tis plain he cares not for your dignity,And touchingly reminds us of our tenets.Our nation spurns the outward shows of state,And ceremony dies for lack of service.Pomp is discrowned, and throned regalityDissolved away in our new land and laws.Man is the Presence here!
1ST OFFICER. Well, for my part, I like not that one in particular.
[Pointing towardTECUMSEH.]
3RD OFFICER. No more do I! I wish I were a crab, And had its courtly fashion of advancing.
HARRISON. Best yield to him, the rather that he nowInvites our confidence. His heavy forceScants good opinion somewhat, yet I knowThere's honor, aye, and kindness in this Chief.
[Rising.]
3RD OFFICER. Yes, faith, he loves us all, and means to keep Locks of our hair for memory. Here goes.
[All rise.]Servants and soldiers carry chairs and benches to the grove, followed byGENERAL HARRISON _and others, who seat themselves— _TECUMSEHand his followers still standing in the lower part of the grove.
HARRISON. We have not met to bury our respect, Or mar our plea with lack of courtesy. The Great Chief knows it is his father's wish That he should sit by him.
TECUMSEH. My father's wish! My father is the sun; the earth my mother
[Pointing to each in turn.]
And on her mighty bosom I shall rest.
[TECUMSEHand his followers seat themselves on the grass.]
HARRISON. (Rising.) I asked Tecumseh to conferwith me,Not in war's hue, but for the ends of peace.Our own intent—witness our presence here,Unarmed save those few muskets and our swords.How comes it, then, that he descends on usWith this o'erbearing and untimely strength?Tecumseh's virtues are the theme of all;Wisdom and courage, frankness and good faith—To speak of these things is to think of him!Yet, as one theft makes men suspect the thief—Be all his life else spent in honesty—So does one breach of faithfulness in manWound all his after deeds. There is a pauseIn some men's goodness like the barren timeOf those sweet trees which yield each second year,Wherein what seems a niggardness in nature;Is but good husbandry for future gifts.But this tree bears, and bears most treacherous fruit!Here is a gross infringement of all lawsThat shelter men in council, where should sitNo disproportioned force save that of reason—Our strong dependence still, and argument,Of better consequence than that of arms,If great Tecumseh should give ear to it.
TECUMSEH. (Rising.) You called upon Tecumseh andhe came!You sent your messenger, asked us to bringOur wide complaint to you—and it is here!
[Waving his arm toward his followers.]
Why is our brother angry at our force,Since every man but represents a wrong?Nay! rather should our force be multiplied!Fill up your streets and overflow your fields,And crowd upon the earth for standing room;Still would our wrongs outweigh our witnesses,And scant recital for the lack of tongues.I know your reason, and its bitter heart,Its form of justice, clad with promises—The cloaks of death! That reason was the snareWhich tripped our ancestors in days of yore—Who knew not falsehood and so feared it not:Men who mistook your fathers' vows for truth,And took them, cold and hungry, to their hearts.Filled them with food, and shared with them theirhomes,With such return as might make baseness blush.What tree e'er bore such treacherous fruit as this?But let it pass! let wrongs die with the wronged!The red man's memory is full of graves.But wrongs live with the living, who are here—Inheritors of all our fathers' sighs,And tears, and garments wringing wet with blood.The injuries which you have done to usCry out for remedy, or wide revenge.Restore the forests you have robbed us of—Our stolen homes and vales of plenteous com!Give back the boundaries, which are our lives,Ere the axe rise! aught else is reasonless.
HARRISON. Tecumseh's passion is a dangerous floodWhich sweeps away his judgment. Let him liftHis threatened axe to hit defenceless heads!It cannot mar the body of our right,Nor graze the even justice of our claim:These still would live, uncancelled by our death.Let reason rule us, in whose sober lightWe read those treaties which offend him thus:What nation was the first established here,Settled for centuries, with title sound?You know that people, the Miamies, well.Long ere the white man tripped his anchors cold,To cast them by the glowing western isles,They lived upon these lands in peace, and noneDared cavil at their claim. We bought from them,For such equivalent to largess joined,That every man was hampered with our goods,And stumbled on profusion. But give ear!Jealous lest aught might fail of honesty—Lest one lean interest or poor shade of rightShould point at us—we made the KickapooAnd Delaware the sharer of our gifts,And stretched the arms of bounty over headsWhich held but by Miami sufferance.But, you! whence came you? and what rights have you?The Shawanoes are interlopers here—Witness their name! mere wanderers from the South!Spurned thence by angry Creek and Yamasee—Now here to stir up strife, and tempt the tribesTo break the seals of faith. I am surprisedThat they should be so led, and more than grievedTecumseh has such ingrates at his back.
TECUMSEH. Call you those ingrates who but claim theirown,And owe you nothing but revenge? Those menAre here to answer and confront your lies.
[Turning to his followers.]
Miami, Delaware and Kickapoo!Ye are alleged as signers of those deeds—Those dark and treble treacheries of Fort Wayne.—Ye chiefs whose cheeks are tanned with battle-smoke,Stand forward then, and answer if you did it!
KICKAPOO CHIEF. (Rising.) Not I! I disavow them!They were made By village chiefs whose vanity o'ercameTheir judgment, and their duty to our race.
DELAWARE CHIEF. (Rising.) And I reject thetreaties in the nameOf all our noted braves and warriors.They have no weight save with the palsied headsWhich dote on friendly compacts in the past.