Classic Poem

ACT V.

Enter Chorus .

Chorus . O Canada!
Bright youth among the graybeards of the earth,
Dark days have come upon thee! Brock is slain —
That spirit glorious who fired thy soul,
And led thee to renown and victory.
Alas! the rare advantages he won,
By weak successors (equals in command,
But, oh, of what inferior mould in greatness!)
Have been let slip unto the winds, thy hopes
By an untimely armistice destroyed,
Those fleets he would have captured from the foe,
But for a hateful truce on him enjoined,
Were, in a fataler still, equipped, and loosed
To lord it o'er thee on the lakes. One bore
Destruction to thy upper Capital —
The other meets thy poorly furnished hulls
On Erie's bosom, and with hosts of men
And weight of armament doth bear them down.
O lamentable hour, which paves the way
To sad remaining scenes — a coward's part,
And the last pulse-beat of a hero's heart.

SCENE FIRST. — T HE I NDIAN C OUNCIL H OUSE , A MHERSTBURG .

Enter B ABY and E LLIOTT .

B ABY . Now, Elliott, what think you keeps our fleet?
We heard the crash of battle yesterday,
And still no tidings come.
E LLIOTT . I fear the worst.
B ABY . I fear it, too! Worse still to think this worst
Owes to sheer folly — to an armistice
Astutely urged, and too politely granted.
Some chance politenesses obstruct themselves,
Like meeting men who shuffle in the street,
Each striving to give way; but this, of Sheaffe's,
Was of the stately kind! He stood aside;
Bowed, hat in hand, and let the foe pass by
To build his navy up.
E LLIOTT . Well, we have here
A fool who beats Sheaffe's folly at the game,
But for whose slackness we might still record
Some gains on land, 'gainst losses on the lake.
B ABY . You speak of Proctor; hum! a prudent man,
Who loves his life, and will maintain his love.
'Tis a safe temper.
E LLIOTT . Ay, for peace, not war.
But what a damper to our volunteers!
They left their customable, proper toil
To fight, not for a wage, but for their freedom —
A thing to be achieved by instant ways,
Though they run blood. Thus, if they won and lived.
The sooner to their homes; and, if they died —
Fair end: their lives went for their country's good.
But how, by bootless and lame leadership,
Has Proctor soured the temper of our men;
Cooling them to contempt, till, in a pique,
He straight disarms, then sends them to their homes!
B ABY . Unheard-of folly! All this is a text
From which I often preach unto myself.
E LLIOTT . Would that by preaching we could mend the matter!
Even Tecumseh he insults, whose cause
Lies close to ours; and, saving him and us,
(Whose aid he would dispense with if he dared,)
What force is left him but his regulars,
Whose sickly frames and broken confidence
Would scarcely face the effigies of foes!
B ABY . True! true! it breeds fear but to think of it.
E LLIOTT . Then hear him prate about the charge he bears
Upon his individual shoulders — his!
Oh, it is galling! while he boasts withal
What he would do were things fortuitous,
And in a fairer plight; and this fudged stuff
Goes down with some. But, not to spin it out,
We know that, at Sandusky, Harrison
(Who is as good a substitute for Hull
As ours a poor one for immortal Brock)
Waits transport to invade us in large force.
So — lest our General means to beat retreat,
Or ruinously yield — 'tis time to stir.
B ABY . What can we do? We are not in command.
E LLIOTT . Force him who is to face our enemies —
First calling back our volunteers.
B ABY . Force him,
Who would not face yourself, to face five thousand!
Why, Elliott, we might as well expect
Light from a cave, as leadership from him.

Enter M C K EE .

What news, McKee?
M C K EE . It could not well be worse.
Our fleet is captured, and the General
Has issued orders to retreat.
B ABY . Ay, ay;
We had already lost our fleet in thought,
Which ofttimes pre-digests calamities.
But this retreat — how looks Tecumseh at it?
M C K EE . I never saw him in so strange a temper —
Calm on the surface, but convulsed beneath,
Just poising on the edge of whirling rage.
He now harangues his chiefs and warriors.
And has demanded conference with Proctor,
Wherein I look for deep outbursts of wrath.
For Proctor, fearing him, pretends our fleet
Is absent for repairs — a foolish lie,
Which yet will deepen what it but prorogues.
B ABY . We must compose this threatened broil, McKee;
Dissension now would ruin everything.
M C K EE . Tecumseh thinks there's ruin in retreat.
Proctor can't thumb his temper to the point,
Nor rove him through his plans.
B ABY . Well, certainly,
Had we but power and time enough to mass
Our people's strength 'twould be the nobler part
To risk a battle here. But, pshaw! this counts
In mere conjecture as to what might be
Had we command; for Proctor will retreat!
He feels endangered in a special sense.
The savage massacre of prisoners
At Old Miami and at Raisin River
Has made him hated by the enemy,
Who, right or wrong, put all the blame on him,
And this he knows.

Enter G ENERAL P ROCTOR .

M C K EE . Would Brock were still alive!
P ROCTOR . Pardon my overhearing ears! — what then?
M C K EE . ( Turning sharply .) Then we should fight! Some bold, some daring plan,
Would still forefend retreat.
P ROCTOR . Some strange exploit!
Some headlong rashness which would find you graves.
'Twas prologue to his own: a fault in him
I would not emulate.
E LLIOTT . A fault in him!
His death was of the parcel of the man.
In him example, striving to excel
The precept, made him reckless of his life.
'Twas thus he lost it: his main force behind —
With but a handful, taken by surprise,
Rather than flee he charged! and, with the words,
" Push on, my brave York Volunteers! " he fell.
Oh, such a fall atoned for such a fault;
For by that fall he lashed his followers
Up to a sure and terrible revenge.
It was a fearful victory! Our foes,
Flying from death to death, sprang o'er the cliffs
And precipices of Niagara,
And, on the rocks, or in the swirling flood,
Made expiation of their foul invasion.
Let this dwell in our minds! and let not death,
Or, rather, fear of death, repel us now,
Nor turn us to a base retreat from it.
P ROCTOR . Let wisdom dwell, too, in our minds, I urge.
Bethink you: Harrison is on the wing —
Thousands to hundreds is his argument!
Our fleet is captured; our supplies are scant;
And winter may be scented in the air.
We must retreat, since men must eat or die;
So, winding up these threads of sense, prepare!
Lest time desert our opportunity.
B ABY . What will Tecumseh say to this?
P ROCTOR . That dog,
Who barks at all I do, must come with us,
And guard our rear — else were his absence best.
M C K EE . Should he refuse?
P ROCTOR . Then tell him we retire
But further east to make a desperate stand.
'Tis well to say it lest he cross my plans.
As for his prate, not all the forest's combs
Could sweeten such a tongue.
B ABY . I think you lack
The fair idea of this chief; his mind
Has greatness in it — but here comes the man:
Confer with him yourself!

Enter T ECUMSEH and a concourse of Chiefs and Warriors .

P ROCTOR . Nay, I must go,
And push our preparations —
T ECUMSEH . ( Confronting P ROCTOR .) Stay, my friend!
P ROCTOR . I cannot stay; speak to him, gentlemen.
T ECUMSEH . ( Touching his hatchet .) I am Tecumseh.
You are Proctor — stay!
P ROCTOR . What means this madman? He is insolent.
T ECUMSEH . Brother! My people are before you now!
In the last war, the British father gave
Our chiefs the hatchet, and they fought for him;
But in that bloody strife the Long-Knife laid
The King upon his back; whereat he took
Our foes, without our knowledge, by the hand.
Again the Long-Knife warred upon the King;
Again our father handed us the axe,
With promise that our lands would be restored.
We have not shrunk from battle. We have fought,
And many of our people have been slain!
Our promise is redeemed! but what of his?
Oft have we heard you, boasting of him, say
He never would withdraw from British ground.
Yet, neither asking nor advising us,
We mark you now preparing to retreat —
Afraid to even see his enemies!
My brother, you are like a lusty dog
Which proudly curls its tail upon its back,
But, when affrighted, whips it 'tween its legs,
And runs for life! Why should you meanly flee?
The Long-Knives have not yet defeated us
By land, nor is it certain that your ships
Are captured on the lake; but, even so,
First fight, and, if defeated, then retreat!
But, brother, if you will not fight, you hold
The arms our father furnished for our use.
Give these to us, and you may go in peace.
My people are in our Great Spirit's care!
We are determined to defend our lands,
Or, if He wills it, strew them with our bones.
B ABY . Why, this is manliness, and pathos, too!
P ROCTOR . We must retreat. We cannot spare the arms
You now demand of us.
T ECUMSEH . Not spare them, brother?
Do I hear aright?
P ROCTOR . We cannot spare them.
T ECUMSEH . By Manitou, you shall! Those arms are ours.
I would not quarrel lightly with my friend,
Nor cut the bands which bind me to his cause
Upon a small occasion; but those arms,
Useless to him, are precious life to us,
And we shall have them.
P ROCTOR . Yes, if you retreat!
We cannot spare them else.
T ECUMSEH . And why retreat?
The timid woman and the child will stand
And struggle when assaulted by their kind;
Nay, hares resist, and gnats and flies will fight.
One thing alone runs from its sort in fear,
And thou art it!
P ROCTOR . The wildest talk in sleep
Outmeasures this in sense. We must retreat!
T ECUMSEH . Must! must! Oh, could my kindred spirit, Brock,
But live again — be here — would he retreat?
Yours his command — but why should I compare
The king-bird with the crow? Brave Brock retreat!
Oh, when that badger was abroad, dogs hid
And gave the lie to nature! Here we stay.
Give us the arms, and we shall act like him,
Whilst you make off in peace.
P ROCTOR . This man would breed
A deadly quarrel — prudence bear me through!
I mean to give those arms, but for a use
More wise than you would put them to. Retreat
Is but to find some vantage in the woods —
Some footing for defence; so, come with us;
I would not ask you else.
T ECUMSEH . Seek your own kind!
Go boom in festering swales, or, like a frog,
Croak your dull night-song in the standing pool —
Your voice is not a man's.
P ROCTOR . This chief is fevered.
Explain the why and wherefore of retreat,
Then let him come with us or stay; I care not.
T ECUMSEH . Ha! There are cares my brother never cared for;
Duties to which he never paid his duty;
Sacred agreements, oaths and covenants
Which he would break like twigs. Coward and liar!
There's something here that whispers to my hand
To set you free from all.
E LLIOTT . Tecumseh, hold!
B ABY . This is unworthy of you. Be a man!
T ECUMSEH . A man! Oh, if to honour words by deeds;
To look on truth as on the healthful air,
Without which I should suffocate and die;
To love my injured people, and oppose
My constant spirit 'gainst tumultuous wrongs —
If this is lack of manhood mark me down.
But to be over-reached and thrown aside —
Our mighty sacrifices and our service
Rated as nothing in this coward's plans —
It rends my soul. Back! I shall chop his own
From out its frame, and send the mould of lies
Down to his people's hell! Away!
M C K EE . No! no!
E LLIOTT . Stay, be advised by us!
B ABY . Do nothing rash!
We are your friends — you know us to be true,
And we, like you, despise this General.
Fear bares the coward's heart. The gaudy acts
Whereby unsoundness shores its credit up
Are at its touch exposed. 'Tis so with him —
And thus far we are with you. But retreat
Hath a discreetness too. This Harrison,
Once landed (for our long and liberal shores
We cannot well defend), might circle us,
And, with o'erwhelming numbers, hem us in.
But, by retreat, we have the choice of place,
And Harrison — you know the man — will follow.
The forest will befriend us — we can stand
Where'er we please, and shall whene'er you please.
T ECUMSEH . So! Proctor's promises deceive you, too!
B ABY . Nay, 'tis my promise, and you know the stuff
My word is built on. Deal with me, Tecumseh,
As you had dealt with Proctor, if I lie.
T ECUMSEH . My friend, your reason breaks a spirit's wing
That ne'er touched ground before. Oh, I grow weak —
Cast from my thoughts, and banished from my dream!
The plumed hope droops — fate's shadow covers it;
And dim forebodings peer into my soul.
I am not what I was — there — there — I'll go!
B ABY . I hope to see you smile at this ere long.