Tec.u.mseh: A Drama.

by Charles Mair.

"When the white men first set foot on our sh.o.r.es, 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."

_From_ TEc.u.mSEH'S _speech to the Osages_.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

INDIANS:

TEc.u.mSEH _(Chief of the Shawanoes)_.

THE PROPHET _(Brother of Tec.u.mseh)_.

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 Tec.u.mseh)_.

IENA _(Niece of Tec.u.mseh)_.

WEETAMORE, WINONA _and other Indian Maidens_.

AMERICANS:

GENERAL HARRISON _(Governor of Indiana Territory)_.

GENERAL HULL.

COLONEL Ca.s.s.

BARRON _(An Indian Agent)_.

Tw.a.n.g, SLAUGH, GERKIN and BLOAT _(Citizens of Vincennes)_.

_Five Councillors of Indiana Territory, Officers, Soldiers, Volunteers, Orderlies and Scouts_.

BRITISH AND CANADIANS:

GENERAL BROCK _(Administrator of the Government of Upper Canada)_.

COLONEL _(afterwards General)_ PROCTOR. GLEGG, MACDONELL, _Aides-de-camp to General Brock_.

NICHOL, BABY, ELIOTT, _Colonels of Canadian Volunteers_.

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_.

TEc.u.mSEH

ACT I.

SCENE FIRST.--THE FOREST NEAR THE PROPHET'S TOWN ON THE TIPPECANOE.

_Enter the_ PROPHET.

PROPHET. Twelve moons have wasted, and no tidings still!

Tec.u.mseh must have perished! Joy has tears As 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 name Has flown so far upon the wings of fear That 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 Tec.u.mseh--rushing to his ends, And followed by men's love--whose very foes Trust him the most. Rash fool! Him do I dread, And his imperious spirit. Twelve infant moons Have 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 an_ INDIAN RUNNER.

Ha! There's a message in your eyes--what now?

RUNNER. Your brother, great Tec.u.mseh, has returned, And rests himself a moment ere he comes To counsel with you here.

[_Exit Runner_.]

PROPHET. He has returned!

So then the growing current of my power Must fall again into the stately stream Of his great purpose. But a moment past I stood upon ambition's height, and now My 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 soul Of 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 a.s.sume the role By which I pander to his purposes.

_Enter_ TEc.u.mSEH.

TEc.u.mSEH. Who is this standing in the darkened robes?

PROPHET. The Prophet! Olliwayshilla, who probes The spirit-world, and holds within his ken Life's secrets and the fateful deeds of men.

The "One-Eyed!" Brother to the Shooting Star--

TEc.u.mSEH. With heart of wax, and hands not made for war.