[Macomb, Alexander, Jr.]. Pontiac: or The Siege of Detroit. A Drama, in Three Acts. Boston: Samuel Colman, 1835. (LC PS2359.M592P6 1835). HTML & Ed. Marshall Davies Lloyd (February 18, 2000).





Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835, by SAMUEL
COLEMAN, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.












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THE scene of this piece is laid at Detroit, in the Territory of Michigan, and it is founded on historical facts. In the year 1760, the British forces in America obliged the French to abandon all their posts on the Canadian Lakes, and took possession of them. The Indians, confederated under Pontiac, their Great Chief, were in alliance with the French ; and, although their allies were forced to abandon their possessions to the British, the Indians were determined not to yield, but to endeavour, by every possible means, to drive the British out of their country, and regain all that the French had lost.

Pontiac was highly distinguished in this war as a chief of extraordinary abilities and enterprise. His influence over the savages was unbounded, and his views not less extensive. He conceived the grand design of attacking simultaneously all the posts within his reach, and the Indians, under his direction, did actually surprise and take by stratagem Verrango, Le Bœuf, Presquîle, Michilimackinac, Sandusky, Mi-


ami, St. Josephs, and Massac. The attack on Detroit Pontiac reserved for himself, it being, in his opinion, not only the most difficult but the most important enterprise. His plan for surprise of Detroit is correctly stated in the Drama, and the whole piece is historically true, with the exception of the capture of Pontiac on board the Gladwin, and the manner of his death. The vessel was attacked as stated, and the Indians withdrew on the firing of the great guns as represented.

The manner of Pontiac's death has been variously stated. By some it is represented that on the general pacification of the Indians, Pontiac, finding himself abandoned by his followers, and unwilling to trust himself with the English, fled to the Illinois. By others, that Pontiac, who was an Ottawa, married a Peori, whom he abused in so shocking a manner that his wife's tribe sought an opportunity of surprising him when he was alone, and killed him. The Ottawas, one of the most warlike nations in the northern parts of America, felt the loss of their Chief so severely, that they resolved to take revenge, made a descent on the Peories, who inhabited the country bordering on Lake Peorie, and exterminated the whole race. But Carver, who travelled in the Indian country about this period, relates, that after the peace concluded at the Miami towns with the confederated tribes by General Bradstreet, when on his way to the relief of Detroit with a considerable force, Pontiac manifested a friendly disposition, and


seemed to have laid aside the animosity he had hitherto borne towards the English, and apparently became their zealous friend. To reward this new attachment, and to insure a continuance of it, the British Government allowed him a handsome pension. But his restless and intriguing spirit would not suffer him either to be quiet or to be grateful for his allowance. His conduct at length became so suspicious, that in the year 1767, going to hold a council in the country of the Illinois, a faithful Indian, who was either commissioned by one of the English Governors, or instigated by the love he bore the English, attended him as spy ; and, being convinced from the speech made by Pontiac in the council, that he still retained his former prejudices against those for whom he professed a friendship, plunged his knife into Pontiac's heart, as soon as he had done speaking, and laid him dead on the spot.

The forces employed against the French and Canadians in this war were composed of Royal and Provincial troops. The former were raised in Europe, the latter in the American Colonies, now the United States. It was universally known, though not acknowledged by the British officers, that the Provincials were by far the most effective soldiers in the wars on the American continent. This efficiency arose from their mode of life, their knowledge of the wood and especially of the manners, character, and habits of the Indians and Canadians. The Colonists entered into the war against the French


and savages with great zeal, and exhibited on all occasions uncommon firmness, perseverance, and enterprise. Still there always existed great jealousy between the royal and colonial troops, arising partly from the assumed superiority of the former over the latter, but mostly from the uncourteous manner in which the latter were treated, both by the British commanders and their subordinate officers, who pretended to regard the Americans as their inferiors. The Americans, although naturally unassuming, could not tamely submit to such arrogance. Hence repeated banters and retorts among the younger officers ensued, which often led to consequences of the most fatal character.



THIS night, good friends, are offered to your view
Scenes of a nature altogether new :
The savage native of this blessed land
Will now in character before you stand,
Revengeful, cruel, -- not by nature so,
But 't is because depressed by us so low.
When first we saw him in his pristine state,
The native knew not what it was to hate.
Free as the air he roamed the forests o'er,
Rich in that freedom, otherwise quite poor.
The stranger then might move through all the land,
And meet the savage with a naked hand ;
A hearty welcome in his wigwam find,
And every treatment of the generous kind.
The streams and woods supplied his scanty fare,
Whoever called, with him that fare he'd share ;
And little else than these did he possess,
Not e'en a covering one could call a dress ;
Yet, having once received the stranger's hand,
He gave to him the freedom of his land,
To plant, to hunt, to trade, to settle too,
With all the comforts which the Indian knew.
The game was soon by the white stranger killed,
And next the earth in various ways he tilled,
And from the grain the baneful liquor 'stilled.
Then came the miseries of the savage life,
No hunting more, no living free from strife ;

The pois'nous liquor made the natives mad,
Destroyed their happiness, and left them sad :
Their conduct then put on a Curious mien ;
Murder and strife among themselves were seen ;
Disease next followed in the dreadful train,
With all the vices ever known to men.
When thus enfeebled by this dreadful state,
The wily white man leaves them to their fate.
They quit the salt seas, the fresh lakes to roam,
And find new comforts in a distant home.
The French, who settled on the Iroquois,
Joined with the natives in the savage law ;
They learned their language, and their manners too,
The hunter's life with them they did pursue.
At length, the crafty French, to circumvent
These Colonies, a powerful army sent,
To plant her flag on Britain's thin domain,
And with the Indians all her posts maintain.
A war ensued ; the Gaul was overcome,
And made to yield the posts he'd thus begun.
The Indians now contend in single hand,
Try to regain possession of their land ;
Their brave Chief Pontiac commands the whole,
And of this war renewed he is the soul :
None better skilled in warlike enterprise,
In daring action he each foe defies ;
He stakes his life his country to defend,
And in that noble duty finds his end.
Historic record, with tradition true,
Brings all these subjects now before your view,
Should they but interest and please you too,
There's nothing more remains for us to do.



COLONEL GLADWIN, . . . . . . . . . . Commandant of Detroit.
} British Officers.
} American Provincial Officers.
PONTIAC, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Principal Indian Chief.
AUGUSHAWAY, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Indian Chief.
OTSCHEO, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Indian Priest, a Prophet.
NAVARRE, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . French Judge.
FATHER PIERRE, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . French Catholic Priest.
FRANÇOIS, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A Canadian.
ULTINA, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . An Indian Woman.
ANGELIQUE, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A Canadian Lady.

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A street in Detroit.--ULTINA standing near a door.

ULTINA. Why shall I disclose to the white man the plots which Pontiac meditates for his destruction? Have the British people done any thing to deserve mercy at our hands? No! no! they have not. Still we ought not to condemn all, for the acts of those who use power for gain, rather than for the benefit of their fellow-men. But the great white Chief has been kind to me, and to my family. I cannot leave one so good to the wrath of Pontiac; for implacable is his raging ire, and more dreadful his revenge.--But woman's heart leads her to save, not to destroy. Pontiac's secret schemes I cannot withhold from the good white Chief.

[Door opens.


Enter GLADWIN from the door.

GLADWIN. How strange it is to see yon Indian woman still meditating in the open street, instead of retiring to her retreat, the shady woods.--Come hither, Ultina, and tell the cause of thy remaining here, and whence this seeming sorrow.

ULT. O great Chief! I am indeed perplexed. Designs of death are brooding now, more terrible than the tempest, more portentous than the earthquake. Regard for you has checked my course towards my leafy home, while duty to my country urges me to fly this place.

GLAD. Why these forebodings? dost thou apprehend that the white man will harm thee or thy people?

ULT. No, no, great Chief! quite otherwise.

GLAD. What then? does any thing disturb the? Relate it, that all may be righted.

ULT. You know not my thoughts, nor the preparations on which they dwell ;--but for your sake alnone I'll tell you.--Far in yonder forest, where impenetrable thickets surround our camp, the chiefs of all the tribes for more than three days and nights have been in council met. Famine and death have afflicted us poor creatures of the forest, and now Pontiac calls aloud for vengeance on the authors of our miseries. Against you and all your people does he direct his wrath. He has already fully con-


vinced his warriors of the justice of his cause. His plan, which I overheard, is thus laid :--On the day fixed for the approaching council, to which you have invited Pontiac and his warriors, they are to come prepared, with their fire-arms all shortened, the better to conceal them beneath their robes ; and, when in his address Pontiac adverts to a particular well-known act, he will drop the wampum form his hand, a signal for the attack and massacre of yourself and all within and without the Council-hall, save our good allies, the rench. "And thus," said he, "having destroyed our natural enemies, we will resume once more our accustomed freedom and long-lost independence." Thus spoke the Chief, and all approved and applauded what he said.

GLAD. Is it possible? 'Twas but yesterday we mutually resolved on a truce, that we might settle the terms of peace.--'Tis well.--I thank thee, Ultina, for this intelligence, however ill it suits my views. Thy fidelity shall not go unrewarded. Return to thy camp. Should'st thou discover aught of movement, straight let me know.

[Exit ULTINA, L. H.


GLAD. You have arrived most opportunely. Yon faithful Indian woman has just disclosed to me Pontiac's designs.

DELZEL. And what are the designs of the savage chieftain? Are they still hostile, after the council of


yesterday, held within these walls, when the basis of a peace was discussed?

GLAD. Yes, Delzel, his designs are deeply hostile. He views us as the natural enemies of his race, while he calls the French by the endearing appellation of brothers. To-morrow, at our meeting in council, Pontiac is to appear at the head of his red warriors, who, like himself, are to come with the face of peace, whilst treacherously concealing their arms beneath their blankets ; and, the Chief, in the midst of his address, is to give the signal for a general massacre by the dropping of his wampum, and then he designs ferociously to butcher every British subject within his grasp.

DELZ. Scarce can I believe that Pontiac could act so basely, for he has long been counted a brave and generous foe. But never did his reputation stand so low as now in my estimation. Perhaps the maid, whose zeal has brought her hither, may fancy all, and really know nothing. Yet, as my counsel has been asked, I would advise strict secrecy, to avoid all alarm among the women and the weak-hearted, but to prepare for the event.

GLAD. Your knowledge of the savage ways, brave Rogers, affords you ability to counsel well on this affair. So let me have your advice.

ROGERS. Since I am called to give my opinion, I shall be brief, but freely speak my mind.--Pontiac is well Known to be a deep-designing Chief, skilled alike


in dissimulation and surprise. To be prepared at every point now becomes our solemn duty ; and a counterplot, to meet his fell designs, appears to me the plan most proper to be pursued. Then, without giving information of the scheme which the Indian Cheiftain meditates, strengthen every guard. Let that at the main gate be double, for thereat alone the savages are permitted to enter the city ; and, having allowed a free passage to a sufficient number, including Pontiac, let drop the portcullis, and seize the wretches. Ascertain the fact, whether or not they be armed with concealed weapons, as Ultina has told us. We may then detain the faithless chiefs as hostages, and punish them as they deserve. No tampering with a savage. Prompt measures and an honest course are means most apt to make him fear our power and respect our persons.

GLAD. Thanks to you both for your good advice. In the Council-hall we'll take our seats. In our rear, against the wall, let our dauntless grenadiers be posted, facing like ourselves the places assigned the wily Pontiac and his painted warriors. The King's troops and his brave provincials will be paraded at their respective posts, to preserve peace within, and repel every attack from without. These are my commands.--Now, then, each depart, and be prepared against the coming council.

[Exeunt DELZ. and ROG. L. H., GLAD. R. H.

The Council-Hall prepared for receiving Pontiac, with his Chiefs and Warriors.--COL. GLADWIN sits in the centre, on a seat somewhat elevated above the rest. On his right hand, MAJOR DELZEL and several British Officers, dressed in their uniform ; on his left, MAJOR ROGERS and the Provincial Officers, in their appropriate uniform--the British red, the Provincials blue; --in the rear, a detachment of British grenadiers.

[A British Adjutant enters L. H. and announces.

ADJUTANT. The Indian deputies, with their head Chief, demand entrance at the northern barrier.

GLAD. Let them enter, and with due caution conduct them hither.

[Music.--Exit Brit. Adj. L. H.

[Enter PONTIAC, with his Chiefs and Warriors, in their proper costume. They arrange themselves on each side of the stage ; PONTIAC somewhat in advance of the rest.

(COL. GLADWIN addresses PONTIAC, L. H.)

GLAD. The war, which has so long been waged by the King of France and his Canadian subjects against our great King and his good people, is at length terminated. The hand of friendship is now extended to you and your nation by our good King, who, though all-powerful, knows how to forgive as well as to conquer.


PONTIAC. At your request, with my chiefs and warriors, I come to meet you here. To what you have said we have listened. On what you propose we must reflect. The war, which seems to have been so dreadful to you, was to us but a pleasure. Against the enemies of our race it is our duty as well as our pride to contend. How comes it that you should invade these distant regions, and leave a country and a King you delight so much to praise? Is war the trade of the British King? What brings him here to destroy our friends and allies, and to ruin us? From the day that the British King sought conquest and dominion in these distant parts these plains and forests, these rivers and these lakes, have been the scenes of nought but dismay, rapine, desolation, and murder. Was it for the destruction of the red people, or was it to contend for the skins which the Great Spirit gave the animals of the woods and waters, to protect them from the heat of the summer's scorching sun or from winter's freezing cold, that you ventured hither? These animals were the property of our ancestors, and are the right of our remaining tribes. We are poor, but not so depressed as to forget that it is our duty, as well as our interest, to protect our race from the oppression of strangers. We cannot consent to your remaining here, where you have no land, but what you acquire by force and usurpation. Retire then from our lakes and woods, and we may listen to your overtures of peace. Till then, the sons of the forest cannot offer a hand to shake or a pipe to smoke.


GLAD. You may undervalue our friendship, Pontiac, and pretend to despise our power. But for these warriors of the king, your cowardly designs might have been attempted. Why did you not let fall the wampum, as the signal of your treachery? Well may you hang your heads. Do you suppose that aught you do or think is not known to me? The Great Spirit watches over his white children, and sends guardian angels to advise them of the evil intentions of their enemies. It is now within our power to retaliate, Pontiac. I advise you to peace. Learn to cultivate your fields, and pursue no longer the precarious chase. Return to your camp, and on another day come and say that peace is your wish, and you may claim the King's protection ;--our mercy you now experience, and hereafter you'll esteem our friendship.

PONTIAC. I'll consider your proposition, when my warriors are in camp assembled. You'll find me ready, at my country's call, to ask for peace, or to lead our brave men to battle.

[Music.--Exeunt PONTIAC and Chiefs, L. H.

GLAD. What means this artful fellow? His words are equivocal, and his gestures strange. Each to his post, and see that all's prepar'd against surprise.

[Flourish.--Exeunt Omnes, R. H.

A distant view of the Indian camp from the pickets.--A general attack of the savages.--Yelling and firing of small arms are heard without.

Flourish.--COLONEL GLADWIN and MAJOR ROGERS enter from opposite sides of the stage.

GLAD. What's all this noise?

ROGERS. No sooner had Pontiac and his chiefs passed the barrier, than they turned furiously on the outer guard, and made a general attack. The place is now surrounded, and in full beleaguer. A thousand pities that we had not taken instant vengeance, and disarmed and punished the murderous dogs.

GLAD. The crafty chief has proved your words too true ; but England ne'er would sanction it just revenge against the savages, without our first trying to convince them of her power and her generosity. Let us repair to our troops, animate our men, and see that the defence is made with due regard to every circumstance. I rely on your brave Americans as on the king's own troops. Assure them to that effect.

Exeunt GLADWIN, R. H., ROGERS, L. H.

A Parlor, the Quarters of the Commanding Officers.


DELZEL. The savages still closely besiege--the city. There is not now an avenue left, by which access to the French inhabitants is free. The war is waged against us alone. The French are still esteemed their friends, and perhaps take part with them. Our provisions are getting scanty, and ere long, without relief, the garrison will be straitened for food.

GLAD. The king's vessel, which bears my name, from Niagara Falls, has long been expected with full relief. 'Tis now many weeks since her despatch ; our present circumstances call loudly for her arrival. Meanwhile, let every care be taken of our present stock ; serve it out with close regard to saving all that can be useful in still greater need. --[Enter FRANÇOIS, L. H.] --Go to the French Judge, François, and in my name request his presence at this place ; and also Father Pierre's.--[Exit FRANÇOIS, L.  H.]--On the opinion and advice of Monsieur Navarre, I place implicit reliance. Although a Frenchman, he acts with candor, and always has shown himself a sincere friend. I wish


much to have his counsel on the wisest plan to treat the savages and win them over ; for serious thoughts have crossed my mind, that a flag might bring about a parley, and so time, if not peace, might be obtained. Here comes Monsieur Navarre. We'll greet him as one of our best friends. [Enter MONS. NAVARRE, L. H.] -- You're welcome, and we greet you kindly. The state of things demands our serious attention, and your experience in the present case may lead to peace, which we so much desire.

NAVARRE. In affairs like these, firmness is most becoming. It presents a bold aspect, and teaches man to respect the obligations of society. Perhaps good Father Pierre may be prevailed on to sound the native warriors as to their present mood. Pontiac most sorely feels his late defeat in his plan to surprise this place; and will not readily yield, until he has proved to his jealous chiefs his prowess and his policy. To fail in any scheme of war is disgrace with these wild men ; and so completely have you frustrated his designs, that he will hardly trust even a holy priest within his camp.--But here comes our reverend father, whose judgment deserves respect, and whose holy office leads to universal good and peace.

Enter FATHER PIERRE, dressed in his cassock, with a cross suspended from his belt. L. H.

GLAD. Good father Pierre, you have my salute, kind and respectful. Your prompt attendance de-



mands my thanks. Reverend father, it is well known that your pious labors have greatly tamed the savage heart; and with these tribes now about the place your Christian efforts have been most successful. We would then submit to your judgment the measu e measure which it is proposed to adopt, in order to bring about a reconciliation and end the war with Pontiac. With this view it is proposed to send a herald and a flag to Pontiac, and once more try to settle our quarrels. How do you think, reverend father, it would accord with Pontiac's temper? I crave your sage advice.

F. PIERRE. There is much to dread from that implacable Chief. Already he suspects that we, whom he has heretofore considered as his allies, are now leagued against him. His frustrated plan has mortified him much; and he attributes to the French his ill-success. It were better, perhaps, to send an officer of your own army to Pontiac's camp, with due formality, bearing the white ensign of peace, an emblem well understood, even by the native chiefs. An interpreter should accompany him, but no one else. Both should go unarmed, and in open day. The watchful warriors in yon shady grove will soon perceive the approaching flag. In the open plain let your herald stand, till Pontiac is advised of the mission, and sends forth his chiefs to conduct him to his presence. A sound discretion must attend your delegate, and unalterable firmness must grace his port. In this there will be danger, as the savage observes but little etiquette, except when it suits his interest.


GLAD. The times demand decisive steps, and risk must be hazarded to promote the general safety. Young MacDougall has made extensive acquaintance with the French inhabitants, and will, perhaps, through them, be able to obtain a friend, who can interpret our wishes to the Indian Chief.

F. PIERRE. Most aptly thought. His easy port and good demeanour have endeared him to our people. Among them be may find one whose assistance will give easy access to the Indian camp.

GLAD. Since you approve the course, I will pursue it. Ho! there without!--[Enter ADJUTANT, L.  H.] --Adjutant, wait on Captain MacDougall with my respects, and bid him call on me forthwith.

[Exeunt, R. H.


Officers' Mess-Room.--British and Provincial Officers dining together.

CAPT. BRAGG. Well! I what's going on? I saw the French Priest and the Judge in council with our Commander. I hope no treachery or priestcraft will spoil our sport.

LIEUT. BOASTER. It looks rather odd, Capt. Bragg! to see these Mounseers so thick at headquarters. But what say you, Capt. Freeman? How do you like appearances?


CAPT. FREE. Things do not look so prosperous as one could wish; but discipline and good conduct may keep all right.

L. BOAST. Discipline! what know ye of that? It might become the Royal troops so to talk ;--but for the Yankee provincials, it's what they never knew.

C. FREE. If not of discipline, we may, without boast, put in our claim for good conduct at least.

L. BOAST. If you call good conduct facing the enemy, the thing is doubtful still.

LIEUT. BRHEME. What! would you insult us ? By heavens! Mr. Boaster, I cannot put up with such taunts. I'll let you know, Sir, that American blood is as good as British, or any other. (Rises and draws his sword partly out. BOASTER rises at the same time, and draws his sword.)

C. FREE. Peace! gentlemen, peace! it's no time for quarrelling. We shall have fighting enough ere the siege is over ;--till then, defer your private quarrels. (They sheathe their swords and sit down.)

L. BRHEME. It's too much to bear such insolent reflections on my countrymen, and those too who saved Braddock, and would have done that which neither he nor his Royal troops, with all their discipline, could effect. Pray let me ask you, Mr. Boaster, was it British discipline, or American bravery, that saved the remnant of the defeated army at Fort du Quesne? Perhaps Colonel Washington could tell something of that affair.


C. BRAGG. Don't plume yourselves too much on such paltry acts. Occasion now offers, when the heart and nerves of all may be tried. The skulking savages, who now besiege the town, may venture out from their lurking-places, should we show ourselves beyond the pickets. Then we'll prove the valor of the British blood, as an example to your mongrel troops, should they pluck up courage enough to make a sally with us to yonder bridge. Then we'll try your metal with the tawny boys, and when you run, we'll cover you from their pursuit ; but ere we go, we'll leave the gate open for your activity.

C. FREE. Trust not too much to British discipline, nor count yourselves more active than the Indian warriors. They have their way of fighting--so have we--but boasting makes no part of their valor.

L. BRHEME. Nor of ours, I trust.

C. FREE I should be glad of the Commandant's permission to make the sally, and try the boast. Then we'd see whether Old England or America can best sustain the honors of the day. But, ere we part, let 'us have a glass of wine to our success.

C. BRAGG. With all my heart, and a song too, if we have time. Well, here's to our success. (They all fill and drink.) Come, Captain MacDougall, give us a song.

CAPT. MACDOUGALL. I'll give you the gallant General Wolfe's song.


How stands the glass around ?
For shame ! you take no care, my boys !
How stands the glass around ?
Let mirth and wine abound.
The trumpets sound,
The colors they are flying, boys !
To fight, kill, or wound.
May we still be found,
Content with our hard fate, my boys !
On the cold ground.

Why, soldiers ! why,
Why so melancholy? boys !
Why, soldiers ! why?
Whose business 't is to die--
What ! sighing ? fie !
Drown fear, drink on, be jolly, boys,
'Tis he, you, or I,
Cold, hot, wet, or dry,
We're always bound to follow, boys !
And scorn to fly.

'T is but in vain,
(I mean not to upbraid you, boys,)
'T is but in vain,
For soldiers to complain.
Should next campaign
Send us to him who made us, boys !
We're free from pain ;
But should we remain,
A bottle and kind landlady
Cure all again.


A Parlor in the Commandant's Quarters.--COL. GLADWIN, JUDGE NAVARRE, FATHER PIERRE, and FRANÇOIS, standing B. H.

GLAD. 'T is time MacDougall should appear.


MACDOU. In obedience to your orders, I present Myself.

GLAD. You are welcome, MacDougall. We have concluded to send a flag to Pontiac, and you have been chosen to bear our message. A guide will accompany you, to show the way to the Indian camp. You will tell Pontiac, that I desire to hold a conference with him, either within or without the walls, each party unarmed, to treat of peace. In the meantime, we'll suspend hostilities and hear the complaints which each may prefer.

F. PIERRE. My dear youth, take a father's blessing ere you go. Your task is difficult, and your danger great. This man (pointing to FRANÇOIS) will attend you and conduct you on. After you have reached the wigwam, keep command of every virtue and show a Christian's firmness. May Heaven protect you and return you in safety.

(Embraces MACDOUGALL.)

NAVARRE. The young man who accompanies you is my kinsman. You may trust him as a true and brave man.


GLAD. Now, then, take this ensign, and Wave it in the open plain, a mile beyond the barrier. Remain there until some messenger from Pontiac comes from the forest to receive you. Fear not ; for well does the savage know that vengeance will follow the least insult. François ! follow. Captain MacDougall, and guide him in the true direction of the Indian camp. Having done your duty, MacDougall, return by the same route, and forthwith let me know Pontiac's answer. 'T is now the sun's meridian; let not your absence pass its setting.

MACDOUGALL. Your commands shall be obeyed; and if I return not at the hour appointed, you will know that my detention is the savage's design. So fare ye well, my noble Commandant, my friend Navarre, and good Father Pierre.


GLAD. I hardly like to expose so fine a youth ; but it is such alone that are fitted for such purposes.



The Indian camp and wigwam. Indians dancing the war-dance round a fire. The dance finished, PONTIAC. after the Indian custom, sings his War-Song.


On that day, when our heroes lay low, lay low,
  On that day when our heroes lay low,
I fought by their side, and thought ere I died
Just vengeance to take on the foe, the foe,
Just vengeance to take on the foe.

On that day when our chieftains lay dead, lay dead,
  On that day when our chieftains lay dead,
I fought hand to hand at the head of my band,
And here on my breast have I bled, I bled,
  And here on my breast have I bled.

Our chiefs shall return no mores no more,
  Our chiefs shall return no more ;
Nor their brothers in war who can show scar for scar,
Like women their fate shall deplore, deplore,
  Like women their fate shall deplore.

Five winters in hunting we'll spend, we'll spend,
  Five winters in hunting we'll spend ;
Then our youth grown to men to the war lead again,
And our days like our fathers we'll end, we'll end,
  And our days like our fathers we'll end.

[Just as PONTIAC concludes the song, MACDOUGALL, accompanied by FRANÇOIS and an INDIAN, enters L. H. PONTIAC receives him.


PONTIAC. (to MacDougall.) What brings you hither ? What means your pale-faced flag? Are you come to sue for peace, or to lay down your arms and surrender at discretion ?

MAC. DOUGALL. I come the messenger of peace, to invite you to suspend hostilities, and to confer on honorable terms for that result.

PONTIAC. 'Tis bold indeed thus to Insult a people you have so often wronged ; whom you have deceived, nay, despoiled of the very land on which you live ; and now to seek us in these distant woods, further to practise your deceptions !--No, no ! so long as there is a red man to draw a bow, and Pontiac to lead him, so long will we refuse to listen to any terms of peace whatever. These lakes shall become dry land ; yon hills, all plains ; ere the red man yields them to the British king. By too much confidence in British promises, have we been driven from the salt sea to these remote regions. Our lands have been seized, our people poisoned, and their morals tainted. Drunkenness and wretchedness are fruits of our intercourse. The French king kindly sent his priests to instruct us, and his warriors to guard us. He sent us arms to protect and clothes to cover us. The poisonous liquor which intoxicates our people and debases them to the lowest state, was long forbidden by the Christian king. He was our friend, you his enemy. He sleeps now ; but he will, come again to see justice done us and to avenge


our wrong. Seize the intruder, warriors, and keep him for our further determination.

[MACDOUGALL and his guide are led away by the warriors. The chiefs assemble around PONTIAC, and hold a council to decide MACDOUGALL's fate.

PONTIAC. Chiefs and warriors, the present occasion puts it in our power to inflict a severe punishment on our foes. A sacrifice must be made to appease the manes of our butchered friends and warriors. I submit to your consideration, then, what shall be done with the prisoner, and, when decided, let us follow up the vantage to the full extent. I know these intruders well. They are endeavouring to gain time, whereby their friends at a distance may come to their relief. And so they send this messenger with terms of peace, to entice us into a snare and then destroy us. No more let us listen to proposals of peace, till every Briton return within the limits of his ancient bounds, repass the mountains, and retire to the rivers which run into the briny sea. There in peace let them live and end their days. Thus far we have acknowledged their domain, but all beyond is our own and our ally's territory.

AUGUSHAWAY. Great Pontiac, I approve of your suggestion. Too long have we been the dupes of British policy, and, now that we are resolved to sustain our rights, let nothing turn us from the grand intent.


OTSCHEO. The young warriors await a speedy decision. Already have they driven the stake, and built the pile; they only wait the order for fixing the prisoner and lighting the match. The women too are furious, such have been their sufferings in this deadly conflict. But if you take my advice, you will not sacrifice till the sun goes down and rises again, as the offering would not be acceptable to the Great Spirit. Therefore, let the prisoner be well secured, and let him know his fate. As the rising sun illumes the morn it is proper that the pile be lighted.

PONTIAC. Otscheo is wise ; he thinks as man should think. We'll adopt his advice. Let it be proclaimed to the chiefs and warriors. We'll now take repose and await the season proper for the sacrifice. Let all due care be taken to secure the prisoner.

[Exeunt INDIANS, L. H., PONTIAC, R. H.; the Indians retire to the woods.


A view of the surrounding country towards evening. Enter COL. GLADWIN, MAJ. DELZEL, and MAJ. ROGERS, R. H.

DELZEL. Strange that the flag has not returned. The sun has long gone down. I fear some evil has befallen poor MacDougall.

ROGERS. There is not a doubt but the crafty the Pontiac has detained the flag,-- perhaps e'en


worse,--sacrificed him to his barbarous fury, to appease his disheartened warriors.

DELZEL. The altercations, which your youths have been engaged in, may now perhaps be turned to good account. A sally on the Indian camp may make a diversion favorable to MacDougall's escape while the affair will try the prowess of troops. Too high has the blood of our royal youths and our provincial auxiliaries been excited by mutual bantering ; a little drawing of some extra blood would not hurt our cause.

GLAD. The impetuosity of youth should be checked rather than encouraged. It is too apt to lead to disaster, and bring about a lack of discipline. What say you, my noble Rogers?

ROGERS. I agree with you, Sir, that bantering is unmilitary ; but, since the honor of my countrymen is at stake, I cannot oppose in the present case a fair trial of their native bravery with, that of the British ; and so I freeely freely yield to the proposed sally, although I dread its consequences, as the British troops, unaccustomed to Indian warfare, will perhaps find more terror in their savage yell than in the Frenchman's arms.

GLAD. What ! believe that your young Americans will set an example to the British lads? No, never. Let them try. Such opinion must be tested in the open field.

ROGERS. I'll head the Americans myself. The occasion is worthy of our best endeavour.


DELZEL. And I our British blades. They never yet yielded to French or Indian foe on either continent ; nor shall they now, if my example can aught avail.

GLAD. 'Tis well, gentlemen. To-morrow, at the dawn of day, let the troops of each corps be paraded and marched against, the enemy. The British shall lead the van, and, when the enemy's repulsed, rescue poor MacDougall and bring him home. I shall be on the parade to take a look at you before you march.

[Exit GLADWIN, R. H.

DELZEL. Your orders shall be obeyed. I'll lead the red-coats, an example to the Yankee blues.

ROGERS. And I'll support, perhaps protect you

[Exeunt, L. H.


MACDOUGALL at the stake. FRANÇOIS is seen making his escape. Two Indians are tying MACDOUGALL.

OOTSCHEO. We'll secure him well. He'll not escape, I'll warrant you. To-morrow the kindled fire will put his courage to the test. He's now secured. Let us lie hard by. We 've time enough to take a good nap, ere we shall be wanted at the sacrifice. (The Indians lie down and go to sleep.)

MAC. DOUGALL. Great Heavens! To what a fate am I here consigned. Nothing but scorn and tor-


ture am I to experience from these merciless wretches. Perhaps it is a plan by which Pontiac presumes to alarm me, and thus extort terms or confessions happy for his cause ; but ere I disclose a single fact, or act as Briton should not, every torture which savage barbarity can invent will I suffer. Is there no protecting, angel to defend me against these fiends and rescue me from my impending fate? Alas ! poor François may not be better treated. The moment is most propitious to make my escape, as these sleepy savages take their rest. (Tries to disengage himself.) I Cannot disengage my arms, so strong strongly have they bound them. (Sighs.)

Enter FRANÇOIS, secretly through the woods, L. H., accompanied by ANGELIQUE. He unties and takes off MACDOUGALL. The Indians awake and find MACDOUGALL gone. They give the war-whoop, and all the savages immediately appear. Enter PONTIAC, R. H., with his tomahawk in his hand.

PONTIAC. Why all this confusion? Where's the prisoner? Whither has he gone? Sleepy villains that ye are, to slumber out your time instead of keeping watch over the charge committed to you. Let every warrior take a different way and trace the prisoner to his hiding-place, or intercept him ere he reaches his strong abode. Mark well his footsteps.

(OTSCHEO examines the ground.)

OTSCHEO. Here are more tracks than one. A




woman's foot is plainly to be seen. These crafty creatures outwit e'en the devil himself.

(The warriors disperse in different directions.)

The Indians discover MACDOUGALL, ANGELIQUE, and FRANÇOIS. They pursue and attack them, making at the same fine the most hideous yells and noise. MACDOUGALL defends himself with a club which he finds in the woods, and knocks down the Indians as fast as they come up with him ; so does FRANÇOIS, who keeps retreating, covering ANGELIQUE from the attack of the savages. An Indian gets in their rear and seizes ANGELIQUE, and is in the act of carrying her off, when MACDOUGALL, hearing her cries, attacks him, knocks him down, and, taking ANGELIQUE in his arms, bears her off, while FRANÇOIS checks the advance of the Indians, but retreats at length, the Indians pursuing, R. H.


A cottage.-- Enter MACDOUGALL and ANGELIQUE, R. H.

MACDOU. Now that we are safe, how can I requite you for venturing so much on my behalf, and rescuing me from the hands of those infernal savages?

ANG I have only acted according to the directions of my father and the principles of our religion.


MACDOU. You have been to me a guardian angel indeed, and I wish to make some suitable return for such disinterestedness.

ANG. I am amply repaid, Sir, in having had it in my power to obey my father's directions, and in the success which has attended my efforts.


FRAN. Oh dear Sir ! the Indians are moving this way, and some are hovering about the house. You must hide yourself.

ANG. Do retire--hide yourself, or you will be lost for ever.

MACDOU. I hide myself, and leave you to the fury of the savages? Never ! I'd rather die in your defence, than have it said that I deserted my fair deliverer, in the hour of danger.

ANG. But, my good Sir, we have nothing to fear from the Indians, unless they see you here, and know that we have protected you. Hide yourself I pray you. They will come, and if they find you here, all will be lost.

MACDOU. I cannot think of leaving you. My heart and soul are now engaged in your behalf. I owe every thing to you, and to one so lovely I offer every thing I possess, for the kindness you have shown me. I'd--I'd--(takes ANGELIQUE by the hand.)

ANG. (hanging her head and blushing.) Dear Sir, you o'er power me ; I cannot reply.

MACDOU. But, Angelique, let me ask you--


ANG. What?

MACDOU. That you'll be mine.

ANG. That cannot be ; our religion forbids it.

MACDOU. No religion forbids love.

ANG. A Protestant and a Catholic can never be united.

MACDOU. Don't say so, Angelique ; for what is there to prevent it ?

ANG. The principles of your religion. You protest against ours, and we cannot conform to yours.

MACDOU. But why, dear Angelique, should that interfere with our love? Heaven looks upon us all with the same kind eye, and will bless the virtuous of every denomination. (FRANÇOIS returns.)

FRAN. The savages are approaching the house; and at a distance I can see the British troops. But bide yourself, Captain, hide yourself; for, if the Indians find you here, they will certainly murder the whole family.

ANG. Oh François ! I am glad you're come. Retire with Captain MacDougall to the recess, where you will be perfectly safe.

MACDOU. I must away to join our troops. What will my comrades say, when they learn that I am so near and not assisting in attacking the enemy ?

ANG. If you love me, retire with François to the recess, I pray you, and do not think of showing yourself, until you may escape unseen; for as sure as the savages espy you going from this house, they will wreak vengeance on us.


MACDOU. I will then retire, and follow your advice.-God bless you, my dear Angelique! (Embraces her.) Come, François, show me the way.

ANG. Adieu ! may Heaven protect you!

[Exeunt Omnes, ANG. into the cottage, FRAN. and MACDOU. L. H.


A Wood, R. H.--The Indian army, under PONTIAC, marching in Indian file, all painted and going to war. A grand March (Pontiac's March) to be played as the Indians move along, winding through the woods. The Indians are all armed with painted clubs, tomahawks, spears, bows and arrows, and some with muskets. PONTIAC makes a signal with his tomahawk, and all the Indians halt and face towards him. He then addresses the Indians:--

PON. Chiefs and warriors! I am informed that the enemy proposes to march out of his strong hold and attack us. He finds it difficult to obtain supplies. We must intercept him and surprise him. You need not care much for the red-coats ; they know nothing of the woods; but the blue-jackets are old enemies of ours, and know what they are about. Reserve your fire for the blue-jackets, and give your clubs and tomahawks to the red-coats. Avoid unnecessary exposure, but contest the ground well. A, sudden attack may gain the day at once ; but if it fails, the trees and bushes must be our resort. (Pontiac, having finished his address, makes a motion with his


tomahawk, and the Indians face to the left, and continue their march with Pontiac at their head, the music playing as before, until they all disappear, L. H.]


A Parade ground, enclosed with palisades. A gate through the centre of the palisades opening into the country.--A sentinel on post at the gate.--The buglers appear on the parade and sound their bugles.--The Americans, under MAJOR ROGERS, march in, and take their position on the left side of the stage.--The British troops soon after march in, under the command of MAJOR DELZEL, pass in front of the Americans, and take post on the right side of the stage, facing the Americans.--The troops are formed in single file.--The Americans carry a blue color, with a spread eagle as the device, the motto "PRO PATRIA."--The British a red color, with a lion rampant, crowned, motto "DIEU ET MON DROIT." -- MAJOR DELZEL commands " Officers, to the front, march!" The Officers and colors march out two paces.--COL. GLADWIN then enters from the back part of the stage, and, as he enters, MAJOR DELZEL commands, "Present arms," and the troops present their arms, and Officers and colors salute.--The Colonel takes off his hat, marches to the right of the line, and passes along the front of the line reviewing the troops, and, as he gets to the left, he puts on his hat, and resumes his place in front. The MAJOR commands "Shoul-


der arms" when the Colonel puts on his hat.--As long as the Colonel remains uncovered, the music plays, but ceases on his putting on his hat.--COL. GLADWIN then addresses the troops:--

GLAD. Fellow Soldiers ! The Indians lie near the town, and interrupt our communication with the country. The object of your movement is to drive them into the woods, and to let them feel the effect of discipline;--and besides, to punish them for detaining our flag. I know that every man will do his duty, whether belonging to the Royal or Provincial corps.--(Addressing himself to MAJOR DELZEL.) "Major, take up the line of march." (MAJOR DELZEL then commands, "Officers to your posts;"--the Officers come to the right about face; "March ;"--the Officers and colors go to their places in the line, and face about to the front.--The MAJOR then commands, "By sections, right wheel, march," when the troops wheel into columns of sections of two. "Support arms, forward, march ;"--they march round the stage, and file off before the COLONEL, MAJOR DELZEL at the head of the British, and MAJOR ROGERS at the head of the Americans.--As they approach COL. GLADWIN, who now takes a position on the left side of the stage, MAJ. DELZEL commands, "Carry arms," when the British troops carry arms, and the Officers and colors salute, as they successively come up. The Americans receive the word from MAJ. ROGERS in this instance.--The sentinel opens the gate as they


approach, and the troops march out, music playing.-- When, they have passed out, the sentinel shuts the gate.


The troops are seen marching on the road to the bridge. -- MAJOR DELZEL leading the advance, which, as it gets well upon the bridge, is attacked by the Indians, who fire from their ambush, and then rush out and attack the British, tomahawk in hand, some with clubs, others with spears.--PONTIAC is seen, closely engaged with MAJOR DELZEL, and at length overcomes him.--A great many of the British fall at the first fire, but the remainder rush on and the conflict becomes terrible.-- The British at length give way, and the Americans charge, and clear the bridge of the Indians, who retreat to the woods, keeping up a fire from behind the trees and bushes.--At the commencement of the action, a part of the Americans are seen deploying to the right and left, firing on the Indians across the creek.--MAJOR ROGERS and the American Officers are very active during the whole of the engagement. MAJOR ROGERS is especially conspicuous, and leads the charge that repels the Indians.--During the action, the Indians yell, the drums beat, the bugles sound, and the British first cheer, then the Americans, When they attack.--Towards the end of the scene, a few scattering shots are heard from behind the scenes.


A view from the ramparts down the river, beautifully diversified with islands.

COL. GLADWIN. (solus) walking on, the parapet, with a spy-glass in his hand;--sometimes anxiously looking down the river.

GLAD. How dreadful is this long suspense ! no tidings of the Gladwin. Happy shall I be when unprofitable contest terminates, and I am permitted to revisit Old England, and enjoy the comforts of civilized society.--[Enter ROGERS. L. H.]--It gives me pleasure to see you now. Your conduct and that of your brave countrymen have shown a bright example to our forward boys. To your discretion, valor, and prudence too, we owe much. Your skill is not less worthy of mention.

ROGERS. My skill, like my discretion, deserves but little praise. Our wars have taught us that the savages act with caution, wonderful and subtile. And, to oppose them with effect, the same must be practised towards them ; but as the British Officers believed that no lesson could be taught them in what concerned war, it was in vain I cautioned them. The time may come, when e'en these sons of the forest will introduce into the tactics of European armies that activity, which seems so much wanted, yet so much despised.

Enter NAVARRE, L. H.

NAV. Our friends below have observed a sail, resembling much the craft so long expected.

GLAD. Heaven be praised ! it comes a welcome messenger ! How far off and where was she discovered ?

NAV. Near the big island at the river's mouth, sailing up the stream, with a light but steady breeze. (Vessel appears.) See yonder a sail appears. It must be the Gladwin ; no other vessel sails these waters. The wind is light, to stem a current so strong. The savages in great numbers keep watch on the island to intercept your only supplies. This is the arrangement of Pontiac their great leader.

GLAD. (looking out with his spy-glass.) 'Tis true enough. The Gladwin lies close to yonder isle. (Boats come from the islands.) The savages appear--they are now preparing to attack the vessel--they are off--they board--Heaven grant that they may be repulsed ! (Gun fires.) The vessel fires--the conflict is great--they disembark--they jump into their boats, (boats go off,) and rapidly regain the shore. Providence sends our long-looked-for vessel to our relief ! (Vessel comes off the stage.)

(The vessel is seen all the time as COL. GLADWIN describes her, and at length arrives under full sail, having passed beautifully up the current through many islands.)


BOAST. I come to report the glad tidings of the arrival of the transport, with a full supply of provisions and men.

GLAD. When the Captain has secured his vessel, bid him call forthwith at head-quarters.--Ah ! here he comes.

Enter CAPT of GLAD., R. H.

CAPT of GLAD. My respects first, in duty. Now let me tell you all our difficulties.--A light breeze wafted us up the stream to yon little isle, where the savages, finding us becalmed, had the temerity to board us, tomahawk in hand. Such was their activity, that they had nearly carried the vessel, ere a gun was fired ; but the first cannon had such a terrible effect bursting with its own charge, and so disconcerted the savages, that they jumped overboard and rapidly left the ship in their own frail boats. A sudden breeze, as if sent by Providence, propelled the ship against the opposing current, and wafted us in safety to your relief. An Indian chief and a young warrior are prisoners on board. I've ordered them to be brought before you.

Enter Sailors, bringing in PONTIAC, and the young warrior OTSCHEO, R. H.

GLAD. Bring forward the prisoners. Let me see their faces.

CAPT of GLAD. Here one of the prisoners, and a brave fellow he is.


GLAD. What have you here ? Pontiac !--a prize indeed. We may now end a war, which was got up by this artful Chief alone.

PON. The circumstances of war have placed me in your power;--fortunately for you, though unluckily for me. It was my duty to do you every harm. A red man knows his rights as well as a white man ; and each ought to sustain them, for his country's honor and his own good name.

GLAD. It is time, Pontiac, that the war should end ; and with you it now rests to conclude a peace on fair and honorable terms. Send, then, your young companion to your chiefs and warriors, and notify them of your captivity. Tell them that you are desirous of making peace.

PON. Never let it be said that Pontiac recommended to his people any thing so disgraceful. No ! he has recommended to them eternal war, rather than that they should sue for peace on any terms except that the British quit the country, and leave us the undisturbed possession of our native empire. Rather let me perish at the stake, than even hint to my warriors a proposition for peace on any other conditions.

GLAD. Your hatred then is as deadly as your conduct has been deceptive and treacherous. Let Pontiac be secured. Summon our officers and priest to meet me in the Council-hall. The moment is favorable to our purpose, and I desire the advice of my friends to settle the course proper to be pursued. Go,


Adjutant ! summon my worthy friends to meet me forthwith.

[Exeunt Omnes, L. H., Sailors conducting PONTIAC, R. H.


Council-Hall.-- The Officers and Priest.

GLAD. My friends ! I have called you together, to consult with you on the propriety of making another attempt at peace. Pontiac, the mover of the war, is now a prisoner in our power. His people must feel his loss, and perhaps, to regain him, may willingly come to terms. I therefore propose, that we send a flag by the young warrior who was captured with Pontiac, to acquaint the Indians that Pontiac is in our hands, and that the same good feelings still actuate us in the desire to settle all our differences with them, and to conclude a peace on honorable terms, mutually advantageous.

ROGERS. I approve the plan. The Indian prisoner will give a good account of what be has seen ; but we must separate him from that monster Pontiac, as he will tell his chiefs and warriors to fight it out, and prolong the war. His hatred is indeed deadly. He'll never yield with life to any accommodation. While Pontiac lives, our frontier settlements will be in constant dread. I would therefore advise the keeping of Pontiac as an hostage, and guaranty for the fulfilment of any treaty we may conclude.


GLAD. Bring forth the young prisoner, and we'll despatch him forthwith from the council to the camp.--[Exit LIEUT. BOASTER, R. H., and returns with OTSCHEO in chains, and under a guard of two soldiers.]--Young warrior ! you have seen our force. You see your great Chief subdued and a prisoner. Now go to your camp, and tell your head-men and warriors, that it is useless for them further to prosecute a war, which can only eventuate in their extermination. The quarrel commenced not with us. We wish to bury in oblivion all that has happened, and shake hands in. token of peace. We shall detain Pontiac in our power, and decide his fate by the answer, which you will bring us. Take this pipe, as a token of our sincere disposition to end the war and to become the friends of the red people. Take off his chains and set him free. (The guards take off his chains.)

OTSCHEO. I'll take your message, and straight return the answer.--[Ex. OTSCHEO, L. H.; the rest, R. H.


An Inn.--Soldiers dressed in red and blue, and sailors from the Gladwin.
Enter LT. BOASTER, R. H., sailors, L. H.

BOAST. Well, we've got the old savage at last. These tawny rascals, hang them, are more like serpents, than human beings. They hide in the grass and bushes, and never fight fair.


SAILOR. Your honor had better catch an Indian first, before you talk about his way of fighting. Egad ! we were like to catch a Tartar, when these red-skins jumped stark naked on board the Gladwin. Nothing saved us but the determination of our bold Captain ; his apparent intention to fire the ship started the dogs ; for he set off some loose powder on deck, and the firing of the great guns made them hop into their canoes as nimbly as a pack of monkeys.

BOAST. But, Jack, how came you to catch Pontiac, if he was so nimble as you say ?

SAILOR. Why, d'ye see, that fellow made fight, and, followed by his young warriors, almost cleared the whole deck himself. He is as active as a cat, and as bold as a lion.

BOAST. But you do'nt tell us, Jack, how you came to take him.

SAILOR. Why, d'ye see, we knocked him down with a handspike, and so, being very quiet when down on the deck, why we put the big Chief in limbo, and then the little one.--Come, let's go into the next room, and take a can of grog.

BOAST. Go drink your grog, you're a fine fellow.

[Exeunt Omnes, L. H., LT. BOASTER, R. H.


Council-Hall. Officers, Judge, and Priest, seated as before.--The Indians enter R. H., bearing a pipe of peace decorated with white feathers. They


move in single file, in good order, and with much solemnity, separating on both sides of the stage.

AUGUSHAWAY. Father! welcome, on your invitation, to treat of peace. The war Was rekindled by Pontiac, our great Chief, whose summons we all obeyed. He is now, we are told, your prisoner. We wish to see him, as his sentiments must be our guide.

GLAD. I am glad to see you here with the friendly pipe. We'll light it, and then proceed to discuss our subject.--(An orderly Sergeant hands the pipe, which is prepared and lighted by the Colonel. The Indian, holding his pipe, strikes fire from the flint and steel and lights it. The pipes are then exchanged ; the Indians smoking the white man's pipe, and the English the Indian's pipe. The ceremony being over, GLADWIN continues.)--I hope that, like the reciprocal friendship which we are about to form, these smokes will mingle ; and, as the two smokes thus commingled make but one smoke, so may the red man and the white man make hereafter but one people.

AUGUSH. So let it be. It will depend most on yourselves. Where is Pontiac ?

GLAD. Pontiac is a close prisoner-he has no business here. His enlargement will depend on your present determination for peace or war.

AUGUSH. It was and is the nation's wish to conclude a peace ; but Pontiac, who began hostilities, ought to join in this deliberation, and add his voice as a guaranty for its continuance. But as it does not


seem to meet your views that Pontiac should partake in the conference, we Chiefs and warriors present will conform to the good wishes of our people. The release of Pontiac and all other prisoners must form an article in our convention, and all past animosities must mutually be forgiven and forgotten.

GLAD. This article must be reciprocal, each releasing prisoners and forgetting wrongs. Bring forth the treaty in its present form, containing all that has been agreed upon ; and, to impress its conditions more strongly on each others hearts and memories, We will ratify it with our proper signs. (The treaty is brought forward by the Adjutant, who, during the conference, is seen writing.) We agree then on all points.--First, Peace from this day and for evermore shall exist between the Chippeways, and other tribes confederated with them, and the British King and his subjects.--Second, All prisoners to be delivered up on both sides.-- Third, We sign in duplicate this instrument, as a pledge for the faithful fulfilment of this present agreement. (The Colonel and other Officers come forward and sign the treaty; then the Principal Indian Chiefs, and the treaties are exchanged.)

AUGUSH. Now, then, since all is complete, release Pontiac, and let him come before us, as an earnest of the fulfilment of the treaty.

GLAD. Adjutant ! cause Pontiac to be released and Conducted to this assembly. (The Adjutant rises and makes his exit R. H., and returns with PON-


TIAC in chains. All the Indians are seated, and there is no place for PONTIAC.)

OTSCHEO. Is there no seat for Pontiac our great Chief ?

AUGUSH. Pontiac ! there's your father. (pointing to GLADWIN.)

PONTIAC. My father ! I have no father but the Sun--no mother but the Earth. She feeds me, she clothes me. I shall recline upon her bosom. (He throws himself at full length on the stage.)

GLAD. What means this sullenness? Pontiac, arise, you are at liberty. A treaty has just been concluded, by which your freedom is secured. (PONTIAC rises.) Take off his chains; let him partake of the general joy. (The Adjutant, assisted by the guard, takes off his chains.)--(To PONTIAC.) Pontiac ! we have all shaken hands, and smoked the calumet, in token of peace. Come, give us, your hand, as a consent to what has been done, and as earnest to keep the peace.

PONTIAC. No ! never ! none but cowards could consent to peace. I'll neither smoke the pipe, nor shake the hand--both are forerunners of our ruin and disgrace I'll ne'er consent to such dishonorable terms. I'd rather perish at the stake, and die a warrior's death, than give my consent to a deed which will stamp with infamy our whole race.

AUGUSH. Pontiac ! your discourse ill suits the present occasion. You commenced the war by your own and, by your speeches, stirred up our young


warriors to take the field, when the nation wanted peace, and all the wise men recommended it. Now, then, when you are released from bonds only by our wisdom in concluding the present treaty, you still show your proneness to war, and your determination to rekindle it, when you shall be once more free to act. In the present instance I am representing the nation, and will insure the peace which is now solemly solemnly concluded, and thus put it out of your power hereafter to break it. (Draws his dagger and stabs PONTIAC.) There is a sacrifice, to our country's peace, of one of the bravest warriors and most consummate Chiefs.

PONTIAC. (falling.) Thus am I treated by one who ought to have avenged my captivity. Little did I expect to meet death from the hand of Augushaway. If it were for my country's honor, or for her good, my life were nothing ; but her disgrace is doubly sealed by this convention and in this base act. My hand should never have been extended to an invader, except to strike deep the tomahawk or the knife. The pipe of peace can only poison, with its baneful incense, the noble principles of our ancestors.--I wish to live no longer.--I die With my country.

[He dies.

INDIAN CHIEF AUGUSH. Friends, Chiefs, and Warriors ! sad is the spectacle before your eyes ; horrible indeed is the act which my duty has compelled me to commit--duty, not to my friend, for Pontiac was my friend, but to my country, to my.


nation, and all that's dear to Michigan, Huron, and Ontario--to all that constitutes the happiness of the nations which inhabit the shores of these extensive regions. Pontiac was honorable, and loved his Country ; but Pontiac knew no bounds to his warlike ambition. Such, indeed, was his ambition, and such his schemes, that neither red man nor white man would have been permitted to live, had Pontiac survived much longer.

GLAD. To-morrow we'll join in solemn festival for a peace so propitious to all. (Turning to FATHER PIERRE.) Father Pierre ! let these good tidings of peace be announced to your Catholic brethren ; and to-morrow, according to ancient custom, we'll attend in the Chapel. There let us sing Te Deum in return for mercies shown us. Let every rejoicing be put in train for the occasion. (To NAVARRE.) Navarre, proclaim among the French the present convention, and invite a general attendance at the celebration.

[Exeunt Omnes.


A Parlor, Col. Gladwin's Quarters.--Enter COL. GLADWIN, R. H.

GLAD. (solus.) Thank Heaven ! the war at has at last is over. I must fulfil my promise towards Ultina, and, if possible, reward her for the great service she has rendered me and my king.--[Enter ULTINA, L. H.]


--Ultina ! I am happy once more to see you ; I was just thinking of you, and thinking how I should reward your fidelity.

ULTINA. I ask no reward ; I am fully compensated in finding you safe.

GLAD. What must I do to recompense you for the great risks you have run, in bringing me intelligence of Pontiac's intentions. Shall I take you home with me across the great waters ? or shall I provide for you here, in your own country ?

ULT. What ! do you propose to leave me ? will you abandon me to the insults of our defeated warriors ? Alas ! how wretched shall I be when left to myself !

GLAD. No, Ultina ! I do not propose to abandon you. I offer to take you with me to my country.

ULT. To your country ? across the wide waters? among strangers ? where I shall know no one, and where I must perish among a cold-hearted people, who will despise me because I am less fair than they?

GLAD. Think not so ill of my countrymen, or of my country women. They are fair, it is true ; but they have warm and generous hearts, free from feeling any superiority in color. In virtue alone they eadeavour to excel.

ULT. Ah no! I cannot leave my country. Here I may be something, there nothing. You already show a cold indifference which I detest. No ! I will return to the woods, and die under the weeping elm, or in some unknown cave, where mortal can no more


deceive me.--Farewell ! farewell ! May the Great Spirit protect you, and convey you safely to your country.

GLAD. Stay, Ultina ! to-morrow We must meet at the chapel, and, after the ceremonies are over, I wish to talk further with you. Till then, be at ease.

ULT. Farewell ! I shall see you at the chapel: perhaps for the last time.

[Exeunt, L. H.


Midnight.--A Wood, in the centre of which is a small cavern. At the entrance of the cavern is a large rock, which serves to close its mouth. A fire is burning near the cavern to give light. Two Indians are seen removing the stone from the mouth of the cavern, by means of wooden handspikes. On the top of the cavern is a white cross of wood, and on each side of the cross is a post painted red and white, with a small white flag upon it. Music is heard at a distance, playing Pontiac's Dead March. The procession moves on in the following order:--First, An old Indian Priest in a white robe, holding a white wand in his hand. He is followed by four boys, and four girls, all dressed in white ; the boys wearing white feathers in their heads, and the girls wreaths of flowers ; they carry baskets of flowers, which they strew as they pass along, and at the cavern when they arrive there: Then follow four warriors finely dressed, bearing the corpse on four Poles, which form a bier. On the breast of the corpse is the bow and quiver of the deceased. Next follow young warriors carrying


baskets of provisions, which they deposit with the corpse in the cavern, intended to subsist the deceased in his journey to the world of departed spirits ; and, for the same purpose, his bow and arrows accompany him. Then comes a train of Indian warriors, and next a train of Indian women, all dressed in white--the women wearing their robes over their heads. Then the American troops without arms ; then the British troops, also without arms, followed by their respective Officers ; and finally, the Catholic PRIEST and JUDGE, and COL. GLADWIN, attended by the Adjutant and MAJOR ROGERS. The procession passes round the rock once, and then forms in two lines, making an angle at the cavern. Commencing at the cavern, on the right, are the warriors, then the Provincials and their Officers; on the left, commencing at the cavern, the Indian women, then the British troops and their Officers. In the centre, and opposite the cavern, is placed the corpse on the bier. The Indian Priest makes a motion with his wand, and the Indian warriors and women chant the Death-Song. COL. GLADWIN, MAJ. ROGERS, FATHER PIERRE, and JUDGE NAVARRE move up to the cavern, when the stone is placed at its entrance, and closes up the tomb ; and the curtain drops to solemn music, a kind of finale to the Death-Song.



Oh ! he is gone,
Our Chief is gone,
Ah ! never to return ;
Oh ! he was great,
He met his fate,
And left us all forlorn.

Oh ! he has gone,
We're left alone,
His fate we all deplore ;
Oh ! he has gone,
We're left forlorn,
And ne'er shall see him more.

Yes ! he was great,
He was our pride,
His country he'd defend ;
Tho' he was great,
He met his fate,
And here's his journey's end.


Marshall Davies Lloyd mlloyd@sms-va.com