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She Would Be a Soldier; or, The Plains of Chippewa, a play by Mordecai Manuel Noah

Act 3

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_ ACT III

Scene in front of a pavilion tent; trumpets and drums sounding.

[Enter GENERAL, LENOX, SOLDIERS, OFFICERS, &c.]


GENERAL.
At length victory has crown'd our arms, and the result of this action will keep alive the spirits of our troops, and the hopes of our country. Hark! the bugles are sounding a retreat, and the enemy has abandoned the field and taken to his entrenchments. Lenox, your hand--your conduct this day has confirmed our hopes--allow me in the name of our country to thank you.

LENOX.
Not a word, dear general, not a word; I have merely done
my duty, and done no more than every soldier in our ranks.

GENERAL.
What is the result of this day's action?

LENOX.
The enemy has lost upwards of 500 in killed and wounded,
and several principal officers have been taken prisoners.

GENERAL.
In what position were they when the attack became general?

LENOX.
The British commander, pressed by our artillery under Towson, issued in all his force from his entrenchments. It was a gallant sight, to see his solid columns and burnished arms advance on the margin of the river, and his cavalry, with lightning's force, dart on our flanks to turn and throw them into confusion: but they were met by the volunteers under the brave Porter, and gallantly repulsed.

GENERAL.
Go on.

LENOX.
The enemy then condensed his forces and crossed the bridge, and was encountered on the plains of Chippewa by Scott, with his brigade, when the action became severe and general. No ambuscade or masked batteries were held in reserve--the enemy was not a moment concealed from our view--no tangled thicket or umbrageous groves gave effect or facility to our rifles: the battle was fought on a plain--where man grappled man, force was opposed to force, skill to skill, and eye to eye, in regular, disciplined, and admirable order.

GENERAL.
How near were you to the British general?

LENOX.
In sight and hearing. Charge the Yankees! said a hoarse voice which I knew to be his. Charge away! said our ardent troops, as they advanced with fixed bayonets; the fire became dreadful, and our stars and stripes were seen waving in the blaze. Scott rode through the lines cheering the men, and gallantly leading them on; Jessup and his third battalion turned the right flank of the enemy after a dreadful conflict; Ketchum had kept up a cross and ruinous fire; and Towson, from his dread artillery, scattered grape like hail amongst them. On, on! cried Leavenworth, the day's our own, my boys! Just then a shot struck down my comrade, Harrison, and shattered his leg.

GENERAL.
Well?

LENOX.
He grasped his sword and fought on his stump, clinging to the spot like fire-eyed Mars; the enemy, pressed on all sides, gave way; our troops pursued, and the flight became general. At length we drove them to their entrenchments, and remained masters of the field. Our trumpets sounded their retreat; victory perched on our eagles, and our bands struck up the soul-inspiring air of "Hail, Columbia, happy land!"

GENERAL.
Well done, my brave fellows! This action will teach the enemy to respect that valour which they cannot subdue. See that the wounded prisoners are taken care of: give them all succor: victory loses half its value, when it is not tempered with mercy.

[Exit GENERAL.]

LENOX.
Now to my dear Christine, to receive from her the
reward which I hope I have fairly earned, and seek
with her the joys of tranquillity and love.

[Enter a SOLDIER.]

SOLDIER.
Towards the conclusion of the battle we made two Indian warriors
prisoners, who were fighting desperately; we have them with us.

LENOX.
Bring them in; I will examine them, touching
the number and force of their tribe.


[Exit SOLDIER, who returns with PENDRAGON and LAROLE, with a file of men; both are painted and dressed as Indians; PENDRAGON preserves his opera-glass, and LAROLE his snuff-box.]

PENDRAGON.
What are we brought here for, fellow?

LENOX.
Warriors, the fate of battle has placed you in our power; yet fear nothing, we shall treat you like men and soldiers. Deeply do we regret to see you take up arms against us, instigated by foreign influence, and bribed by foreign gold. How numerous is your tribe?

PENDRAGON.
Why what the devil, sir, do you take us for Choctaws?
Can't you tell a man of fashion in masquerade?

LENOX.
Who and what are you?

PENDRAGON.
I am the honourable Captain Pendragon, of his Majesty's Coldstream guards.

LENOX.
The honourable Captain Pendragon, and taken prisoner fighting in the ranks with Indians, and in disguise? A man of rank and fashion, and a soldier, changing his complexion, his nature and his character--herding with savages--infuriating their horrid passions, and whetting their knives and tomahawks against their defenceless prisoners? Impossible! And who are you, sir?

[To LAROLE.]


LAROLE.
[Taking snuff.]

Begar, sair, I am von man of fashion aussi, I am valet
de sham to capitain Pendragoon; ve are in de masquerade, sair.

PENDRAGON.
It's very true, sir, 'pon honour--we are in masquerade, though you look as if you doubt it. War, sir, is a kind of a--a singular science, and if you are to be knock'd on the head, 'tis of very little consequence whether your nose is tipped with blue or red, damme. I am in your power, sir, and a man of fashion, 'pon honour.

LENOX.
Well, sir, if your example is to govern men of honour or men of fashion, I hope I am ignorant of the attributes of the one, or the eccentricities of the other. However, mercy to prisoners, even when they have forfeited mercy, may teach your nation lessons of toleration and humanity. Your life is safe, sir.

PENDRAGON.
Sir, you speak very like a gentleman, and I shall
be happy to taste Burgundy with you at the Horse Guards.

LENOX.
I thank you, sir.

LAROLE.
Par example, dis Yankee Doodel is von very pretti spoken jeune gentiman, I will give him de encouragement. Sair, I vill be ver happy to serve you en my contree, to take un tasse de caffee at de Palais Royale en Paris wid you, to dress your hair, or pull your corset tight.

[Enter GENERAL, ADELA and OFFICER.]

GENERAL.
Who have we here?

LENOX.
Prisoners, sir, and in disguise.

ADELA.
As I live, an Indian dandy!

PENDRAGON.
A lady?

[With an air of fashion.]
Ma'am, your most devoted slave--inexpressibly happy to find a beautiful creature in this damn'd wilderness. You see, ma'am, I am a kind of a prisoner, but always at home, always at my ease, a-la-mode St. James--extremely rejoiced to have the honour of your acquaintance. A fine girl, LaRole, split me!

LAROLE.
Oh, oui, she is very fine, I like her ver mush.

ADELA.
Pray, sir, may I ask how came you to fancy that disguise?

PENDRAGON.
Oh, it's not my fancy, 'pon honour, though I am one of the fancy; a mere russe de guerre. We on the other side of the water, have a kind of floating idea that you North Americans are half savages, and we must fight you after your own fashion.

ADELA.
And have you discovered that any difference exists
in the last affair in which you have been engaged?

PENDRAGON.
Why, 'pon my soul, ma'am, this Yankee kind of warfare is inexpressibly inelegant, without flattery--no order--no military arrangement--no deploying in solid columns--but a kind of helter-skelter warfare, like a reel or a country-dance at a village inn, while the house is on fire.

ADELA.
Indeed?

PENDRAGON.
All true, I assure you. Why, do you know, ma'am, that one of your common soldiers was amusing himself with shooting at me for several minutes, although he saw from my air, and my dodging, that I was a man of fashion? Monstrous assurance! wasn't it?

ADELA.
Why ay, it was rather impertinent for a common
soldier to attempt to bring down a man of fashion.

LAROLE.
Oui--it is dam impertinent, mai par example, de littel
bullet of von common soldat, he sometime kill von great general.

PENDRAGON.
Pray, ma'am, will you permit me to ask, when you
arrived from England, and what family has the honour
to boast of so beautiful a representative?

ADELA.
Sir, I am not of England, I stand on my native soil.

PENDRAGON.
Oh.

ADELA.
And much as I esteem English women for their many
amiable qualities, I hope that worth and virtue are
not wholly centered in that country.

PENDRAGON.
Why, 'pon my soul, ma'am, though it is not fashionable this year to be prejudiced, yet were I to admit that I saw any beauty or elegance in America, my Bond-Street friends would cut me--split me!

ADELA.
I cannot admire their candour. Merit is the exclusive property of no country, and to form a just estimate of our own advantages, we should be ever prepared to admit the advantages possessed by others.

[Enter a SOLDIER.]

SOLDIER.
We have surprised and made captive the celebrated
Indian chief, who fought so desperately against us.

GENERAL.
Bring him before us.

[Exit SOLDIER.]
He has long been the terror of the neighbourhood,
and the crafty foe of our country.

[Enter SOLDIERS with the INDIAN CHIEF.]

INDIAN.
Who among you is the chief of these pale-faced enemies of our race?

GENERAL.
I am he.

INDIAN.
'Tis well, sir; behold in me your captive, who has fallen into your power after a resistance becoming a warrior. I am ready to meet that death which I know awaits me.

GENERAL.
Chief, your fears are groundless; we intend you no harm,
but by our example, teach you the blessings of valour
and mercy united.

INDIAN.
Wherefore show me mercy? I ask it not of you.--Think you that I cannot bear the flames? that a warrior shrinks from the uplifted tomahawk? Try me--try how a great soul can smile on death. Or do you hope that I will meanly beg a life, which fate and evil fortune has thrown into your hands?

GENERAL.
We ask no concessions of you, warrior; we wish to see you sensible of the delusions into which foreign nations have plunged you. We wish to see you our friend.

INDIAN.
Your friend? Call back the times which we passed in liberty and happiness, when in the tranquil enjoyment of unrestrained freedom we roved through our forests, and only knew the bears as our enemy; call back our council fires, our fathers and pious priests; call back our brothers, wives and children, which cruel white men have destroyed.--Your friend? You came with the silver smile of peace, and we received you into our cabins; we hunted for you, toiled for you; our wives and daughters cherished and protected you; but when your numbers increased, you rose like wolves upon us, fired our dwellings, drove off our cattle, sent us in tribes to the wilderness, to seek for shelter; and now you ask me, while naked and a prisoner, to be your friend!

GENERAL.
We have not done this, deluded man; your pretended
advocates, over the great waters, have told you this tale.

INDIAN.
Alas! it is a true one; I feel it here; 'tis no fiction: I was the chief of a great and daring tribe, which smiled on death with indifference and contempt; my cabin was the seat of hospitality and of love; I was first in council, and first in the field; my prosperity increased, my prospects brightened; but the white man came, and all was blasted.

GENERAL.
What has been done, was the result of war.

INDIAN.
Wherefore wage war against us? Was not your territory sufficiently ample, but did you sigh for our possessions? Were you not satisfied with taking our land from us, but would you hunt the lords of the soil into the den of the otter? Why drive to desperation a free and liberal people? Think you I would be your enemy unless urged by powerful wrongs? No, white man, no! the Great Spirit whom we worship, is also the God whom you adore; for friends we cheerfully lay down our lives; but against foes, our lives are staked with desperation. Had I taken you prisoner, death should have been your portion; death in cruel torments. Then why spare me? why spare the man whose knife was whetted against your life?

GENERAL.
To show, by contrast, the difference of our principles. You would strike down the captive who implores your protection: we tender life and liberty to the prisoner, who asks himself for death.

INDIAN.
Is this your vengeance?

GENERAL.
It is. The Great Spirit delights in mercy. Be thou our friend, warrior; bury thy tomahawk deep in earth; let not jealous foreigners excite thy vengeance against us; but living as we do in one territory, let us smoke the calumet of peace, you and all your tribe, and let concord hereafter reign amongst us.--Be this the token.

[Gives a belt of wampum.]

INDIAN.
Brother, I accept the token; forgive my rage, and pardon my unjust anger. Protect our warriors and wives; guard their wigwams from destruction; soften their prejudices and remove their jealousies. Do this, and the red man is your friend. I have urged you far to end my life: you have tempered your passions with mercy, and we are no longer foes. Farewell!

[Exit.]

LAROLE Parbleu, dis general is like von great Roman. I vill speak von vord pour myself, I vill make de speech like de sauvage.

GENERAL.
[To LAROLE.]

And you, sir, it appears, are in disguise, unlike a civilized
soldier; you have been taken in the ranks with Indians.

LAROLE.
Sair, mon general, you sall here vat I am goin to say.
I am von Frenchiman; in my contree every Frenchiman he is von soldat.

GENERAL.
Well?

LAROLE.
Begar, sair, I must fight vid somebody, because it is my bisness. In de Egypt I did fight 'gainst de Turc; in Europe I did fight de whole vorld vis de Grand Napoleon, and in Amerique I did fight against you vid myself. Mais, you take a me de prisonier, I can fight no more; I vill trow myself on de protection of dis contree; I vill no more fight contree de Yankee Doodel; I vill stay here and eat de ros beef vid you, and mon capitain la, he may go to de devil.

GENERAL.
Admirably concluded. And you, sir,
what can we do to lighten your captivity?

PENDRAGON.
Why sir, if war was not my profession, I'd sell out; but it's always my maxim to obey orders, whatever they may be: therefore, shall be happy to have a brush with you in war, and equally happy to crack a bottle of Burgundy with you in peace; a flash in the pan in one way, or a puff from a segar in another; a bullet under the ribs in battle, or a country dance in a ball-room; all's one to me, if it's only fashionably conducted.

GENERAL.
Well, let's into my tent and partake of some
refreshment. We may not always meet as enemies.

PENDRAGON.
[To ADELA.]

Allow me the felicity of your little finger.

[Aside.]
She's struck with my figure, split me! LaRole, take notice.

LAROLE.
Oh, you are de littel devil among de ladies.

[Exeunt.]

 


SCENE II. A Prison.

[CHRISTINE seated on a bench; her appearance betrays grief and despair.]


CHRISTINE.
At length the weary night has passed away, and day dawns, but brings no joy or comfort to my aching heart. Alas! alas! Christine, where are all the bright visions thy fond fancy painted? where is that content and love which gleamed through the casement of our cottage, when my dear father smiled on his child, and entwined around her his protecting arms: when the false Lenox, too, with honeyed lips, and tones soft as zephyrs, vow'd eternal love? Let me not think of them, or I shall go mad. Oh, what a contrast! pent up in a vile prison, and in disguise! condemned to die, and perishing unknown and unprotected. On the one side, my grave yawns for me; and on the other, a false lover, and a cruel father, drive me to despair. My brain is on fire!

[Hurries about with rapid strides. Music loud and violent.]
Ha! what is this?

[Tears the miniature from around her neck.]
Lenox, these are thy features! thy mild looks beam hope and joy upon me.

[Kisses it.]
Could such a face be false? Away with it! even now he weds another.

[Throws the miniature indignantly from her.]
So, 'tis gone, and I am left alone in darkness and despair.

[She stands transfixed with grief--muffled drum rolls--she starts.]
Ha! they come for me! Be firm, my heart!

[Enter an OFFICER and a file of SOLDIERS.]

OFFICER.
Young man, your hour has arrived;
the detachment waits without to receive you.

CHRISTINE.
[Faintly.]

I am ready.

OFFICER.
Can I serve you in any manner? Is there no letter--no
remembrance that you would wish sent to father or friend?

CHRISTINE.
Oh, forbear!

SOLDIER.
[Picking up the miniature.]

See, sir, here is a miniature.

OFFICER.
[Examining it.]

By Heavens, they are the features of Captain Lenox!
How came you by this? What! a thief too? 'Tis well
your career is cut short.

CHRISTINE.
Oh no, no! Give it me, I implore you; 'tis mine.

OFFICER.
I shall restore it to the rightful owner. Come, we wait.

CHRISTINE.
Lead on. A few fleeting moments, and all my troubles will be at an end.

[Exeunt.]

 


SCENE III. Before the Tent.

[Enter GENERAL, SOLDIERS, &c., with papers.]

GENERAL.
He has not confessed who set him on?

OFFICER.
He has not, but admits the crime.

GENERAL.
[Returning papers.]

'Tis well--see him executed according to the sentence.
Hard and imperious duty, which, at once, shuts out hope and mercy!

[Exit GENERAL.]

OFFICER.
Now to seek for Lenox, and restore to him his miniature.

[Exit.]

 


SCENE IV

SCENE IV. The Camp, as in Act I, Scene III; the stage is thrown open, drums roll, and the procession enters for the execution of CHRISTINE; she is in the centre, between the two detachments; her coat is off, and the stock unloosened from her neck--her step is firm, until she reaches the tent of LENOX, when she clasps her hands and hangs down her head in despair. Procession makes the circuit of the stage with slow steps, and when opposite the tent she kneels; an OFFICER places the bandage over her eyes, and gives a sign to a detachment of four to advance; they step forward, and level their muskets at her; at the moment, LENOX rushes from the tent with the miniature in his hand and strikes up their guns.


LENOX.
Hold! for your lives!

[Rushes down to CHRISTINE, and tears the bandage from her eyes.]
'Tis she! 'tis she! 'tis my own, my beloved Christine!

[Holds her in his arms; she faints.]

2ND OFFICER.
What means this?

LENOX.
Stand off, ye cruel executioners, would you destroy a woman?

OFFICER.
A woman? Heavens! how did this happen?

Enter GENERAL, ADELA, LAROLE, SOLDIERS, &c.

LENOX.
Support her, Adela, support my dear Christine!

[ADELA assists.]

CHRISTINE.
[Recovering.]

Where am I?

[Sees LENOX and ADELA]
Hide me, save me from that horrid sight!

LENOX. Do you not know me, dear Christine?

CHRISTINE.
Traitor, begone! let me die at once! Is she not your bride?

LENOX.
No, by Heavens, no! 'tis my early friend, my dear companion. Could you doubt my love?

CHRISTINE.
Not married? not your betrothed? O Lenox, are you then faithful?

LENOX.
Could Christine doubt my vows?

CHRISTINE.
I see it all--I have been deceived. Pardon me, dear Lenox; but driven to despair by your supposed perfidy, I enlisted, and rushed on my fate--which in a moment (horrid thought!) would have terminated. But you are true, and I am happy.

[Embrace.]

LAROLE.
Parbleu! it is a littel voman vidout de petticoat.
Suppose she take a me von prisonier, O quell disgrace!

[Enter JASPER, JERRY and PEASANTS.]

JASPER.
Where is she? where is my daughter?

CHRISTINE.
My father? I dare not look upon him.

JASPER.
Come to my arms, dear wanderer. Could you leave your
poor old father thus? You've nearly broke my heart, Christine.

CHRISTINE.
My sufferings have been equally severe; but do you pardon your child?

JASPER.
I do--I do! and further prove my love, by making you happy. Take her, Lenox, she is yours; and never let father attempt to force his child into a marriage which her heart abhors.

JERRY.
Well, I vow, Miss Crissy, you look very pretty in pantaloons, and make a fine soger; but after all, I'm glad to have escaped a wife who wears the breeches before marriage--so I consent that you shall have the infantry ossifer, because I can't help it; and so I'll marry Patty, the weaver's daughter, though she can't crack a bottle nor bring down a buck.

GENERAL.
All things have terminated happily. Our arms have been triumphant, and our gallant soldiers rewarded with the approbation of their country. Love has intwined a wreath for your brows, Lenox, and domestic peace and happiness await you; and when old age draws on apace, may you remember the PLAINS OF CHIPPEWA, and feel towards Britain as freemen should feel towards all the world: "Enemies in war--in peace, friends."


Finis.


[THE END]
Mordecai Manuel Noah's play: She Would Be a Soldier; or, The Plains of Chippewa

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