SCENE FOURTH.—FORT DETROIT.—THE AMERICAN CAMP.
Enter GENERAL HULL, COLONEL CASS and other Officers.
CASS. Come, General, we must insist on reasons!
Your order to withdraw from Canada
Will blow to mutiny, and put to shame
That proclamation which I wrote for you,
Wherein 'tis proudly said, "We are prepared
To look down opposition, our strong force
But vanguard of a mightier still to come!"
And men have been attracted to our cause
Who now will curse us for this breach of faith.
Consider, sir, again!
HULL. I am not bound
To tack my reasons to my orders; this
Is my full warrant and authority—
[Pointing to his Instructions.]
Yet, I have ample grounds for what I do.
CASS. What are they, then?
HULL. First, that this proclamation
Meets not with due response, wins to our side
The thief and refugee, not honest men.
These plainly rally round their government.
1ST OFFICER. Why, yes; there's something lacking in this people, If we must conquer them to set them free.
HULL. Ay, and our huge force must be larger still,
If we would change these Provinces to States.
Then, Colonel Proctor's intercepted letter—
Bidding the captor of Fort Mackinaw
Send but five thousand warriors from the West,
Which, be it artifice or not, yet points
To great and serious danger.
Add to this Brock's rumoured coming with his
Volunteers, All burning to avenge their fathers'
wrongs,
And our great foe, Tecumseh, fired o'er his;
These are the reasons; grave enough, I think,
Which urge me to withdraw from Canada,
And wait for further force; so, go at once,
And help our soldiers to recross the river.
CASS. But I see——
HULL. No "buts"! You have my orders.
CASS. No solid reason here, naught but a group
Of flimsy apprehensions——
HULL. Go at once!
Who kicks at judgment, lacks it.
CASS. I——
HULL. No more! I want not wrangling but obedience here.
[Exeunt CASS and other officers incensed.]
Would I had ne'er accepted this command!
Old men are out of favour with the time,
And youthful folly scoffs at hoary age.
There's not a man who executes my orders
With a becoming grace; not one but sulks,
And puffs his disapproval with a frown.
And what am I? A man whom Washington
Nodded approval of, and wrote it too!
Yet here, in judgment and discretion both,
Ripe to the dropping, scorned and ridiculed.
Oh, Jefferson, what mischief have you wrought—
Confounding Nature's order, setting fools
To prank themselves, and sit in wisdom's seat
By right divine, out Heroding a King's!
But I shall keep straight on—pursue my course,
Responsible and with authority,
Though boasters gird at me, and braggarts frown.
[Exit.]
SCENE FIFTH.—SANDWICH, ON THE DETROIT.—A ROOM IN THE BABY MANSION.
Enter GENERAL BROCK, COLONELS PROCTOR, GLEGG, BABY, MACDONELL, NICHOL, ELLIOTT and other Officers.
BABY. Welcome! thrice welcome!
Brave Brock, to Sandwich and this loyal roof!
Thank God, your oars, those weary levers bent
In many a wave, have been unshipped at last;
And, now methinks those lads who stemmed the flood
Would boldly face the fire.
BROCK. I never led
Men of more cheerful and courageous heart,
But for whose pluck, foul weather and short seas,
'Twere truth to say, had made an end of us.
Another trial will, I think, approve
The manly strain this Canada hath bred.
PROCTOR. 'Tis pity that must be denied them now,
Since all our enemies have left our shores.
BROCK. No, by my soul, it shall not be denied!
Our foe's withdrawal hath a magnet's power
And pulls my spirit clean into his fort.
But I have asked you to confer on this.
What keeps Tecumseh?
ELLIOTT. 'Tis his friend, Lefroy,
Who now rejoins him, after bootless quest
Of Iena, Tecumseh's niece.
BROCK. Lefroy! I had a gentle playmate of that name
In Guernsey, long ago.
BABY. It may be he.
I know him, and, discoursing our affairs,
Have heard him speak of you, but in a strain
Peculiar to the past.
BROCK. He had in youth.
All goods belonging to the human heart,
But fell away to Revolution's side—
Impulsive ever, and o'er prompt to see
In kings but tyrants, and in laws but chains.
I have not seen or heard of him for years.
BABY. The very man!
BROCK. 'Tis strange to find him here!
ELLIOTT. He calls the red men freedom's last survival;
Says truth is only found in Nature's growth—
Her first intention, ere false knowledge rose
To frame distinctions, and exhaust the world.
BROCK. Few find like him the substance of their dreams. But, Elliott, let us seek Tecumseh now. Stay, friends, till we return.
[Exeunt BROCK and ELLIOTT.]
GLEGG. How odd to find
An old friend in this fashion!
PROCTOR. Humph! a fool
Who dotes on forest tramps and savages.
Why, at the best, they are the worst of men;
And this Tecumseh has so strained my temper,
So over-stept my wishes, thrid my orders,
That I would sooner ask the devil's aid
Than such as his.
NICHOL. Why, Brock is charmed with him!
And, as you saw, at Amherstburg he put
Most stress upon opinion when he spoke.
MACDONELL. Already they've determined on assault.
PROCTOR. Then most unwisely so! There are no bounds
To this chief's rashness, and our General seem
Swayed by it too, or rashness hath a twin.
NICHOL. Well, rashness is the wind of enterprise,
And blows its banners out. But here they come
Who dig beneath their rashness for their reasons.
Re-enter GENERAL BROCK and COLONEL ELLIOTT, accompanied by TECUMSEH, conversing.
TECUMSEH. We have been much abused! and have abused
Our fell destroyers too—making our wrongs
The gauge of our revenge. And, still forced back
From the first justice and the native right,
Ever revenge hath sway. This we would void,
And, by a common boundary, prevent.
So, granting that a portion of our own
Is still our own, then let that portion be
Confirmed by sacred treaty to our tribes.
This is my sum of asking—you have ears!
BROCK. Nay, then, Tecumseh, speak of it no more!
My promise is a pledge, and from a man
Who never turned his back on friend or foe.
The timely service you have done our cause,
Rating not what's to come, would warrant it.
So, if I live, possess your soul of this—
No treaty for a peace, if we prevail,
Will bear a seal that doth not guard your rights.
Here, take my sash, and wear it for my sake—
Tecumseh can esteem a soldier's gift.
TECUMSEH. Thanks, thanks, my brother,
I have faith in you;
My life is at your service!
BROCK. Gentlemen, Have you considered my proposal well
Touching the capture of Detroit by storm? What say you
Colonel Proctor?
PROCTOR. I object! 'Tis true, the enemy has left our
shores,
But what a sorry argument is this!
For his withdrawal, which some sanguine men,
Jumping all other motives, charge to fear,
Prudence, more deeply searching, lays to craft.
Why should a foe, who far outnumbers us,
Retreat o'er this great river, save to lure
Our poor force after him? And, having crossed—
Our weakness seen, and all retreat cut off—
What would ensue but absolute surrender,
Or sheer destruction? 'Tis too hazardous!
Discretion balks at such a mad design.
BROCK. What say the rest?
1ST OFFICER. I fear 'tis indiscreet.
2ND OFFICER. 'Twould be imprudent with our scanty force.
BROCK. What say you, Nichol, to my foolish scheme?
NICHOL. I think it feasible and prudent too.
Hull's letters, captured by Tecumseh, prove
His soldiers mutinous, himself despondent.
And dearly Rumor loves the wilderness,
Which gives a thousand echoes to a tongue
That ever swells and magnifies our strength.
And in this flux we take him, on the hinge
Of two uncertainties—his force and ours.
So, weighed, objections fall; and our attempt,
Losing its grain of rashness, takes its rise
In clearest judgment, whose effect will nerve
All Canada to perish, ere she yield.
BROCK. My very thoughts! What says Tecumseh now?
TECUMSEH. I say attack the fort! This very night I'll cross my braves, if you decide on this.
BROCK. Then say no more! Glegg, take a flag of truce,
And bear to Hull this summons to surrender.
Tell him Tecumseh and his force are here—
A host of warriors brooding on their wrongs,
Who, should resistance flush them to revenge,
Would burst from my control like wind-borne fire,
And match on earth the miseries of hell.
But, should he yield, his safety is assured.
Tell him Tecumseh's word is pledged to this,
Who, though his temperate will in peace is law
Yet casts a loose rein to enforced rage.
Add what your fancy dictates; but the stress
Place most on what I speak of—this he fears,
And these same fears, well wrought upon by you,
May prove good workers for us yet.
GLEGG. I go, And shall acquit myself as best I can.
[Exit GLEGG.]
BROCK. Tecumseh, wonder not at such a message!
The guilty conscience of your foes is judge
Of their deserts, and hence 'twill be believed.
The answer may be 'nay,' so to our work—
Which perfected, we shall confer again,
Then cross at break of morn.
[Exeunt all but TECUMSEH.]
TECUMSEH. This is a man!
And our great father, waking from his sleep,
Has sent him to oar aid. Master of Life,
Endue my warriors with double strength!
May the wedged helve be faithful to the axe,
The arrow fail not, and the flint be firm!
That our great vengeance, like the whirlwind fell,
May cleave through thickets of our enemies
A broad path to our ravaged lands again.
[Exit.]
SCENE SIXTH.—MOONLIGHT. THE BANK OF THE DETROIT RIVER, NEAR THE BABY MANSION.
Enter CAPTAIN ROBINSON.
ROBINSON. I thought to find my brother here—poor boy,
The day's hard labor woos him to his rest.
How sweet the night! how beautiful the place!
Who would not love thee, good old Sandwich town!
Abode of silence and sweet summer dreams—
Let speculation pass, nor progress touch
Thy silvan homes with hard, unhallowed hand!
The light wind whispers, and the air is rich
With vapours which exhale into the night;
And, round me here, this village in the leaves
Darkling doth slumber. How those giant pears
Loom with uplifted and high-ancient heads,
Like forest trees! A hundred years ago
They, like their owner, had their roots in France—
In fruitful Normandy—but here refuse
Unlike, to multiply, as if their spirits
Grieved in their alien home. The village sleeps,
So should I seek that hospitable roof
Of thine, thou good old loyalist, Baby!
Thy mansion is a shrine, whereto shall come
On pilgrimages, in the distant days,
The strong and generous youths of Canada,
And, musing there in rich imaginings,
Restore the balance and the beaver-pack
To the wide hall; see forms of savagery,
Vanished for ages, and the stately shades
Of great Tecumseh and high-hearted Brock.
So shall they profit, drinking of the past,
And, drinking loyally, enlarge the faith
Which love of country breeds in noble minds.
But now to sleep—good night unto the world!
[Exit.]
SCENE SEVENTH.—THE SAME.
Enter IENA, in distress.
IENA. Oh, have I eaten of the spirit-plant!
My head swims, and my senses are confused,
And all grows dark around me. Where am I?
Alas! I know naught save of wanderings,
And this poor bosom's weight. What pang is here,
Which all my pressing cannot ease away?
Poor heart! poor heart! Oh, I have travelled far,
And in the forest's brooding place, or where
Night-shrouded surges beat on lonely shores,
Have sickened with my deep, dread, formless fears;
But, never have I felt what now I feel!
Great Spirit, hear me! help me!—this is death!
[_Staggers and swoons behind some shrubbery.]
Enter_ GENERAL BROCK and LEFROY.
BROCK. You may be right, Lefroy! but, for my part,
I stand by old tradition and the past.
My father's God is wise enough for me,
And wise enough this grey world's wisest men.
LEFROY. I tell you, Brock,
The world is wiser than its wisest men,
And shall outlive the wisdom of its gods
Made after man's own liking. The crippled throne
No longer shelters the uneasy king,
And outworn sceptres and imperial crowns
Now grow fantastic as an idiot's dream.
These perish with the kingly pastime, war,
And war's blind tool, the monster, Ignorance!
Both hateful in themselves, but this the worst.
One tyrant will remain—one impious fiend.
Whose name is Gold—our earliest, latest foe!
Him must the earth destroy, ere man can rise,
Rightly self made, to his high destiny,
Purged of his grossest faults; humane and kind;
Co-equal with his fellows, and as free.
BROCK. Lefroy, such thoughts, let loose, would wreck
the world.
The kingly function is the soul of state,
The crown the emblem of authority,
And loyalty the symbol of all faith.
Omitting these, man's government decays—
His family falls into revolt and ruin.
But let us drop this bootless argument,
And tell me more of those unrivalled wastes
You and Tecumseh visited.
LEFROY. We left
The silent forest, and, day after day,
Great prairies swept beyond our aching sight
Into the measureless West; uncharted realms,
Voiceless and calm, save when tempestuous wind
Rolled the rank herbage into billows vast,
And rushing tides, which never found a shore.
And tender clouds, and veils of morning mist
Cast flying shadows, chased by flying light,
Into interminable wildernesses,
Flushed with fresh blooms, deep perfumed by the rose,
And murmurous with flower-fed bird and bee.
The deep-grooved bison-paths like furrows lay,
Turned by the cloven hoofs of thundering herds
Primeval, and still travelled as of yore.
And gloomy valleys opened at our feet—
Shagged with dusk cypresses and hoary pine;
And sunless gorges, rummaged by the wolf,
Which through long reaches of the prairie wound,
Then melted slowly into upland vales,
Lingering, far-stretched amongst the spreading hills.
BROCK. What charming solitudes! And life was there!
LEFROY. Yes, life was there! inexplicable life,
Still wasted by inexorable death.
There had the stately stag his battle-field—
Dying for mastery among his hinds.
There vainly sprung the affrighted antelope,
Beset by glittering eyes and hurrying feet.
The dancing grouse at their insensate sport,
Heard not the stealthy footstep of the fox;
The gopher on his little earthwork stood,
With folded arms, unconscious of the fate
That wheeled in narrowing circles overhead,
And the poor mouse, on heedless nibbling bent,
Marked not the silent coiling of the snake.
At length we heard a deep and solemn sound—
Erupted moanings of the troubled earth
Trembling beneath innumerable feet.
A growing uproar blending in our ears,
With noise tumultuous as ocean's surge,
Of bellowings, fierce breath and battle shock,
And ardor of unconquerable herds.
A multitude whose trampling shook the plains,
With discord of harsh sound and rumblings deep,
As if the swift revolving earth had struck,
And from some adamantine peak recoiled—
Jarring. At length we topped a high-browed hill—
The last and loftiest of a file of such—
And, lo! before us lay the tameless stock,
Slow-wending to the northward like a cloud!
A multitude in motion, dark and dense—
Far as the eye could reach, and farther still,
In countless myriads stretched for many a league.
BROCK. You fire me with the picture! What a scene!
LEFROY. Nation on nation was invillaged there,
Skirting the flanks of that imbanded host;
With chieftains of strange speech and port of war,
Who, battle-armed, in weather-brawny bulk,
Roamed fierce and free in huge and wild content.
These gave Tecumseh greetings fair and kind,
Knowing the purpose havened in his soul.
And he, too, joined the chase as few men dare;
For I have seen him, leaping from his horse,
Mount a careering bull in foaming flight,
Urge it to fury o'er its burden strange,
Yet cling tenacious, with a grip of steel,
Then, by a knife-plunge, fetch it to its knees
In mid-career, and pangs of speedy death.
BROCK. You rave, Lefroy! or saw this in a dream.
LEFROY. No, no; 'tis true—I saw him do it, Brock!
Then would he seek the old, and with his spoils
Restore them to the bounty of their youth,
Cheering the crippled lodge with plenteous feasts,
And warmth of glossy robes, as soft as down,
'Till withered cheeks ran o'er with feeble smiles,
And tongues, long silent, babbled of their prime.
BROCK. This warrior's fabric is of perfect parts!
A worthy champion of his race—he heaps
Such giant obligations on our heads
As will outweigh repayment. It is late,
And rest must preface war's hot work to-morrow,
Else would I talk till morn. How still the night!
Here Peace has let her silvery tresses down,
And falls asleep beside the lapping wave. Wilt go with
me?
LEFROY. Nay, I shall stay awhile.
BROCK. You know my quarters and the countersign—
Good-night, Lefroy!
LEFROY. Good-night, good-night, good friend!
[Exit BROCK.]
Give me the open sleep, whose bed is earth,
With airy ceiling pinned by golden stars,
Or vaultage more confined, plastered with clouds!
Your log-roofed barrack-sleep, 'twixt drum and drum,
Suits men who dream of death, and not of love.
Love cannot die, nor its exhausted life,
Exhaling like a breath into the air,
Blend with the universe again. It lives,
Knit to its soul forever. Iena!
Dead in the forest wild—earth cannot claim
Aught but her own from thee. Sleep on! sleep on!
IENA. (Reviving) What place is this?
LEFROY. Who's there? What voice is that!
IENA. Where am I now?
LEFROY. I'll follow up that sound!
A desperate hope now ventures in my heart!
IENA. Help me, kind Spirit!
LEFROY. I could pick that voice
From out a choir of angels! Iena!
[Finds her behind the shrubbery.]
Tis she! 'tis she! Speak to me, Iena—
No earthly power can mar your life again,
For I am here to shield it with my own.
IENA. Lefroy!
LEFROY. Yes, he!
IENA. My friends! found, found at last!
LEFROY. Found, found my love! I swear it on your lips,
And seal love's contract there! Again—again—
Ah me! all earthly pleasure is a toil
Compared with one long look upon your face.
IENA. O, take me to my friends! A faintness came
Upon me, and no farther could I go.
LEFROY. What spirit led you here?
IENA. My little bark
Is yonder by the shore—but take me hence!
For I am worn and weak with wandering.
LEFROY. Come with me then.
Enter the PROPHET, who stalks gloomily across the stage—scowling at IENA and LEFROY as he passes out.
IENA. The Prophet! I am lost!
LEFROY. This monster here! But he is powerless now.
Fear him not, Iena! Tecumseh's wrath
Burns 'gainst him still—he dare not do thee hurt.
IENA. Must I endure for ever this fiend's hate?
He stabbed me with his eye—
[Swoons away.]
LEFROY. O, horrible! Let us but meet again, and I shall
send
His curst soul out of this accursed world!
[Exit LEFROY, carrying IENA.]
SCENE EIGHTH.—THE HIGHWAY THROUGH THE FOREST LEADING TO FORT DETROIT—THE FORT IN THE DISTANCE; CANNON AND GUNNERS AT THE GATE.
Enter TECUMSEH, STAYETA, and other Chiefs and Warriors.
TECUMSEH. There is the Long-Knive's fort, within whose
walls
We lose our lives, or find our lands to-day.
Fight for that little space—'tis wide domain!
That small enclosure shuts us from our homes.
There are the victors in the Prophet's strife—
Within that fort they lie—those bloody men
Who burnt your town, to light their triumph up,
And drove your women to the withered woods
To shudder through the cold slow-creeping night,
And help their infants to out-howl the wolf.
Oh, the base Long-Knife grows to head, not heart—
A pitiless and murdering minister
To his desires! But let us now be strong,
And, if we conquer, merciful as strong!
Swoop like the eagles on their prey, but turn
In victory your taste to that of doves;
For ever it has been reproach to us
That we have stained our deeds with cruelty,
And dyed our axes in our captives' blood.
So, here, retort not on a vanquished foe,
But teach him lessons in humanity.
Now let the big heart, swelling in each breast,
Strain every rib for lodgment! Warriors!
Bend to your sacred task, and follow me.
STAYETA. Lead on! We follow you!
KICKAPOO CHIEF. Advance ye braves!
TECUMSEH. Stay! make a circuit in the open woods—
Cross, and recross, and double on the path—
So shall the Long-Knives overcount our strength.
Do this, Stayeta, whilst I meet my friend—
My brave white brother, and confer with him.
Enter GENERAL BROCK, PROCTOR, NICHOL, MACDONELL and other Officers and Forces, on the highway. TECUMSEH goes down to meet them.
BROCK. Now by God's providence we face Detroit,
Either to sleep within its walls to-night,
Or in deep beds dug by exulting foes.
Go, Nichol, make a swift reconnaissance—
We'll follow on.
NICHOL. I shall, but, ere I go I do entreat you,
General, take the rear;
Those guns are shrewdly placed without the gate—
One raking fire might rob us of your life,
And, this lost, all is lost.
BROCK. Well meant, my friend!
But I am here to lead, not follow, men
Whose confidence has come with me thus far!
Go, Nichol, to your task!
[Exit NICHOL. TECUMSEH advances.]
Tecumseh, hail! Brave chieftain, you have made your promise good.
TECUMSEH. My brother stands to his! and I but wait
His orders to advance—my warriors
Are ripe for the assault.
BROCK. Deploy them, then,
Upon our landward flank, and skirt the woods,
Whilst we advance in column to attack.
[TECUMSEH rejoins his warriors.]
Signal our batteries on the farther shore
To play upon the Fort! Be steady friends—
Be steady! Now upon your country turn
Your multiplying thoughts, and strike for her!
Strike for your distant and inviolate homes,
Perfumed with holy prayer at this hour!
Strike! with your fathers' virtue in your veins
You must prevail—on, on, to the attack!
[BROCK _and forces advance towards the Port. A heavy cannonading from the British batteries.]
Re-enter_ NICHOL hastily.
NICHOL Stay, General! I saw a flag of truce
Cross from the Fort to the Canadian shore.
BROCK. Halt! There's another from yon bastion flung;
And, see! another waves adown the road—
Borne by an officer—what think you, Nichol?
NICHOL Your threats are conquerors! The Fort is ours!
GLEGG. Yes, look! the gunners have been all withdrawn
Who manned the cannon at yon western gate.
PROCTOR. So many men to yield without a blow!
Why, this is wonderful! It cannot be!
BROCK. Say, rather, should not be, and yet it is!
'Tis plainly written in this captain's face.
Officer with flag of truce approaches.
OFFICER. This letter from our General contains
Proposals to capitulate—pray send
An officer to ratify the terms.
[GENERAL BROCK reads letter.]
BROCK. You have a wise and politic commander!
OFFICER. Our General knowing your superior force—
NICHOL. (Aside.) O this is good! 'tis barely half his own!
OFFICER. And, noting your demand of yesterday
With clearer judgment, doth accede to it,
To bar effusion of much precious blood
By reasonable treaty of surrender.
BROCK. Why, this is excellent, and rare discretion!
OFFICER. He fears your Indians could not be restrained.
Our women's prayers—red visions of the knife—