CHAPTER I.
At the northern extremity of the small town which bears
its name, situated at the head of Lake Erie, stands, or
rather stood--for the fortifications then existing were
subsequently destroyed--the small fortress of Amherstburg.
It was the summer of 1812. Intelligence had been some
days received at that post, of the declaration of war by
the United States, the great aim and object of which was
the conquest, and incorporation with her own extensive
territories, of provinces on which she had long cast an
eye of political jealousy, and now assailed at a moment
when England (fighting the battles of the, even to this
moment, recreant and unredeemed Peninsula,) could ill
spare a solitary regiment to the rescue of her threatened,
and but indifferently defended transatlantic possessions.
Few places in America, or in the world, could, at the
period embraced by our narrative, have offered more
delightful associations than that which we have selected
for an opening scene. Amherstburg was at that time one
of the loveliest spots that ever issued from the will of
a beneficent and gorgeous nature, and were the
world-disgusted wanderer to have selected a home in which
to lose all memory of artificial and conventional forms,
his choice would assuredly have fallen here. And
insensible, indeed, to the beautiful realities of the
sweet wild solitude that reigned around, must that man
have been, who could have gazed unmoved, from the lofty
banks of the Erie, on the placid lake beneath his feet,
mirroring the bright starred heavens on its unbroken
surface, or throwing into full and soft relief the snow
white sail, and dark hull of some stately war-ship,
becalmed in the offing, and only waiting the rising of
the capricious breeze, to waft her onward on her THEN
peaceful mission of dispatch. Lost indeed to all perception
of the natural must he have been, who could have listened,
without a feeling of voluptuous melancholy, to the
plaintive notes of the whip-poor-will, breaking on the
silence of night, and harmonising with the general
stillness of the scene. How often have we ourselves, in
joyous boyhood, lingered amid these beautiful haunts,
drinking in the fascinating song of this strange night-bird,
and revelling in a feeling we were too young to analyze,
yet cherished deeply--yea, frequently, even to this hour,
do we in our dreams revisit scenes no parallel to which
has met our view, even in the course of a life passed in
many climes; and on awaking, our first emotion is regret
that the illusion is no more.
Such was Amherstburg, and its immediate vicinity, during
the early years of the present century, and up to the
period at which our story commences. Not, be it understood,
that even THEN the scenery itself had lost one particle
of its loveliness, or failed in aught to awaken and fix
the same tender interest. The same placidity of earth,
and sky, and lake remained, but the whip-poor-will, driven
from his customary abode by the noisy hum of warlike
preparation, was no longer heard, and the minds of the
inhabitants, hitherto disposed, by the quiet pursuits of
their uneventful lives, to feel pleasure in its song,
had eye nor ear for aught beyond what tended to the
preservation of their threatened homes.
Let us, however, introduce the reader more immediately
to the scene. Close in his rear, as he stands on the
elevated bank of the magnificent river of Detroit, and
about a mile from its point of junction with Lake Erie,
is the fort of Amherstburg, its defences consisting
chiefly of stockade works, flanked, at its several angles,
by strong bastions, and covered by a demi lune of five
guns, so placed as to command every approach by water.
Distant about three hundred yards on his right is a large,
oblong square building, resembling in appearance the red
low roofed blockhouses peering above the outward defences
of the fort. Surrounding this, and extending to the skirt
of the thinned forest, the original boundary of which is
marked by an infinitude of dingy half blackened stumps,
are to be seen numerous huts or wigwams of the Indians,
from the fires before which arises a smoke that contributes,
with the slight haze of the atmosphere, to envelope the
tops of the tall trees in a veil of blue vapour, rendering
them almost invisible. Between these wigwams and the
extreme verge of the thickly wooded banks, which sweeping
in bold curvature for an extent of many miles, brings
into view the eastern extremity of Turkey Island, situated
midway between Amherstburg and Detroit, are to be seen,
containing the accumulated Indian dead of many years,
tumuli, rudely executed it is true, but picturesquely
decorated with such adornments as it is the custom of
these simple mannered people to bestow on the last
sanctuaries of their departed friends. Some three or four
miles, and across the water, (for here it is that the
river acquires her fullest majesty of expansion,) is to
be seen the American Island of Gros Isle, which, at the
period of which we write, bore few traces of cultivation
--scarcely a habitation being visible throughout its
extent--various necks of land, however, shoot out abruptly,
and independently of the channel running between it and
the American main shore, form small bays or harbours in
which boats may always find shelter and concealment.
Thus far the view to the right of the spectator, whom we
assume to be facing the river. Immediately opposite to
the covering demi lune, and in front of the fort, appears,
at a distance of less than half a mile, a blockhouse and
battery, crowning the western extremity of the Island of
Bois Blanc, which, one mile in length and lashed at its
opposite extremity by the waters of Lake Erie, at this
precise point, receives into her capacious bosom the vast
tribute of the noble river connecting her with the higher
lakes. Between this island and the Canadian shore lies
the only navigable channel for ships of heavy tonnage,
for although the waters of the Detroit are of vast depth
every where above the island, they are near their point
of junction with the lake, and, in what is called the
American channel, so interrupted by shallows and sandbars,
that no craft larger than those of a description termed
"Durham boats" can effect the passage--on the other hand
the channel dividing the island from the Canadian shore
is at once deep and rapid, and capable of receiving
vessels of the largest size. The importance of such a
passage is obvious; but although a state of war necessarily
prevented aid from armed vessels to such forts of the
Americans as lay to the westward of the lake, it by no
means effectually cut off their supplies through the
medium of the Durham boats already alluded to. In order
to intercept those, a most vigilant watch was kept by
the light gun boats despatched into the lesser channel
for that purpose.
A blockhouse and battery crowned also the eastern extremity
of the island, and both, provided with a flag staff for
the purpose of communication by signal with the fort,
were far from being wanting in picturesque effect. A
subaltern's command of infantry, and a bombardier's of
artillery, were the only troops stationed there, and
these were there rather to look out for, and report the
approach of whatever American boats might be seen stealing
along their own channel, than with any view to the serious
defence of a post already sufficiently commanded by the
adjacent fortress. In every other direction the island
was thickly wooded--not a house--not a hut arose to
diversify the wild beauty of the scene. Frequently, it
is true, along the margin of its sands might be seen a
succession of Indian wigwams, and the dusky and sinewy
forms of men gliding round their fires, as they danced
to the monotonous sound of the war dance; but these
migratory people, seldom continuing long in the same
spot, the island was again and again left to its solitude.
Strongly contrasted with this, would the spectator, whom
we still suppose standing on the bank where we first
placed him, find the view on his left. There would he
behold a neat small town, composed entirely of wooden
houses variously and not inelegantly painted; and receding
gradually from the river's edge to the slowly disappearing
forest, on which its latest rude edifice reposed. Between
the town and the fort, was to be seen a dockyard of no
despicable dimensions, in which the hum of human voices
mingled with the sound of active labour--there too might
be seen, in the deep harbour of the narrow channel that
separated the town from the island we have just described,
some half-dozen gallant vessels bearing the colours of
England, breasting with their dark prows the rapid current
that strained their creaking cables in every strand, and
seemingly impatient of the curb that checked them from
gliding impetuously into the broad lake, which some few
hundred yards below, appeared to court them to her bosom.
But although in these might be heard the bustle of warlike
preparation, the chief attention would be observed to be
directed towards a large half finished vessel, on which
numerous workmen of all descriptions were busily employed,
evidently with a view of preparing for immediate service.
Beyond the town again might be obtained a view of the
high and cultivated banks, sweeping in gentle curve until
they at length terminated in a low and sandy spot, called
from the name of its proprietor, Elliott's Point. This
stretched itself toward the eastern extremity of the
island, so as to leave the outlet to the lake barely wide
enough for a single vessel to pass at a time, and that
not without skilful pilotage and much caution.
Assuming our reader to be now as fully familiar with the
scene as ourselves, let him next, in imagination, people
it, as on the occasion we have chosen for his introduction.
It was a warm, sunny, day in the early part of July. The
town itself was as quiet as if the glaive of war reposed
in its sheath, and the inhabitants pursued their wonted
avocations with the air of men who had nothing in common
with the active interest which evidently dominated the
more military portions of the scene. It was clear that
among these latter some cause for excitement existed,
fat, independently of the unceasing bustle within the
dock yard--a bustle which however had but one undivided
object-the completion and equipment of the large vessel
then on the stacks--the immediate neighbourhood of the
fort presented evidence of some more than ordinary
interest. The encampment of the Indians, on the verge
of the forest, had given forth the great body of their
warriors, and these clad in their gayest apparel, covered
with feathers and leggings of bright colours, decorated
with small tinkling bells that came not inharmoniously
on the ear, as they kept tone to the measured walk of
their proud wearers, were principally assembled around
and in front of the large building we have described as
being without, yet adjacent to, the fort. These warriors
might have been about a thousand in number, and amused
themselves variously--(the younger at least)--with
leaping--wrestling--ball playing-and the foot race--in
all which exercises they are unrivalled. The elders bore
no part in these amusements, but stood, or sat cross
legged, on the edge of the bank, smoking their pipes,
and expressing their approbation of the prowess or
dexterity of the victors in the games, by guttural, yet
rapidly uttered exclamations. Mingled with these were
some six or seven individuals, whose glittering costume
of scarlet announced them for officers of the garrison,
and elsewhere dispersed, some along the banks and crowding
the battery in front of the fort, or immediately around
the building, yet quite apart from their officers, were
a numerous body of the inferior soldiery.
But although these distinct parties were assembled, to
all appearance, with a view, the one to perform in, the
other to witness, the active sports we have enumerated,
a close observer of the movements of all would hare
perceived there was something more important in
contemplation, to the enactment of which these exercises
were but a prelude. Both officers, and men, and even the
participators in the sports, turned their gaze frequently
up the Detroit, as if they expected some important
approach. The broad reach of the wide river, affording
an undisturbed view, as we have stated, for a distance
of some nine or ten miles, where commenced the near
extremity of Turkey Island, presented nothing, however,
as yet, to their gate, and repeatedly were the telescopes
of the officers raised only to fall in disappointment
from the eye. At length a number of small dark specks
were seen studding the tranquil bosom of the river, as
they emerged rapidly, one after the other, from the cover
of the island. The communication was made, by him who
first discovered them, to his companions. The elder
Indians who sat near the spot on which the officers stood,
were made acquainted with what even their own sharp sight
could not distinguish unaided by the glass. One sprang
to his feet, raised the telescope to his eye, and with
an exclamation of wonder at the strange properties of
the instrument, confirmed to his followers the truth of
the statement. The elders, principally chiefs, spoke in
various tongues to their respective warriors. The sports
were abandoned, and all crowded to the bank with anxiety
and interest depicted in their attitudes and demeanor.
Meanwhile, the dark specks upon the water increased
momentarily in size. Presently they could be distinguished
for canoes, which, rapidly impelled, and aided in their
course by the swift current, were not long in developing
themselves to the naked eye. These canoes, about fifty
in number, were of bark, and of so light a description,
that a man of ordinary strength might, without undergoing
serious fatigue, carry one for miles. The warriors who
now propelled them, were naked in all save their leggings
and waist cloths, their bodies and faces begrimed with
paint: and as they drew neater, fifteen was observed to
be the complement of each. They sat by twos on the narrow
thwarts; and, with their faces to the prow, dipped their
paddles simultaneously into the stream, with a regularity
of movement not to be surpassed by the most experienced
boat's crew of Europe. In the stern of each sat a chief
guiding his bark, with the same unpretending but skilful
and efficient paddle, and behind him, drooping in the
breezeless air, and trailing in the silvery tide, was to
be seen a long pendant, bearing the red cross of England.
It was a novel and beautiful sight to behold that imposing
fleet of canoes, apparently so frail in texture that the
dropping of a pebble between the skeleton ribs might be
deemed sufficient to perforate and sink them, yet withal
so ingeniously contrived as to bear safely not only the
warriors who formed their crews, hut also their arms of
all descriptions, and such light equipment of raiment
and necessaries as were indispensable to men who had to
voyage long and far in pursuit of the goal they were now
rapidly attaining. The Indians already encamped near the
fort, were warriors of nations long rendered familiar by
personal intercourse, not only with the inhabitants of
the district, but with the troops themselves; and these,
from frequent association with the whites, had lost much
of that fierceness which is so characteristic of the
North American Indian in his ruder state. Among these,
with the more intelligent Hurons, were the remnants of
those very tribes of Shawanees and Delawares whom we have
recorded to have borne, half a century ago, so prominent
a share in the confederacy against England, but who,
after the termination of that disastrous war, had so far
abandoned their wild hostility, as to have settled in
various points of contiguity to the forts to which they,
periodically, repaired to receive those presents which
a judicious policy so profusely bestowed.
The reinforcement just arriving was composed principally
of warriors who had never yet pressed a soil wherein
civilization had extended her influence--men who had
never hitherto beheld the face of a white, unless it were
that of the Canadian trader, who, at stated periods,
penetrated fearlessly into their wilds for purposes of
traffic, and who to the bronzed cheek that exposure had
rendered nearly as swarthy as their own, united not only
the language but so wholly the dress--or rather the
undress of those he visited, that he might easily have
been confounded with one of their own dark blooded race.
So remote, indeed, were the regions in which some of
these warriors had been sought, that they were strangers
to the existence of more than one of their tribes, and
upon these they gazed with a surprise only inferior to
what they manifested, when, for the first time, they
marked the accoutrements of the British soldier, and
turned with secret, but unacknowledged awe and admiration
upon the frowning fort and stately shipping, bristling
with cannon, and vomiting forth sheets of flame as they
approached the shore. In these might have been studied
the natural dignity of man. Firm of step--proud of
mien--haughty yet penetrating of look, each leader offered
in his own person a model to the sculptor, which he might
vainly seek elsewhere. Free and unfettered in every limb,
they moved in the majesty of nature, and with an air of
dark reserve, passed, on landing, through the admiring
crowd.
There was one of the number, however, and his canoe was
decorated with a richer and a larger flag, whose costume
was that of the more civilized Indians, and who in
nobleness of deportment, even surpassed those we have
last named. This was Tecumseh. He was not of the race
of either of the parties who now accompanied him, but of
one of the nations, many of whose warriors were assembled
on the bank awaiting his arrival. As the head chief of
the Indians, his authority was acknowledged by all, even
to the remotest of these wild but interesting people,
and the result of the exercise of his all-powerful
influence had been the gathering together of those
warriors, whom he had personally hastened to collect from
the extreme west, passing in his course, and with impunity,
the several American posts that lay in their way. In
order more fully to comprehend the motives and character
of this remarkable man, it may not be impertinent to
recur summarily to events that took place prior to the
declaration of war by the United States against England.
It being a well established--and even by themselves
uncontradicted--fact, we can have no hesitation in stating
(what we trust no American will conceive to be stated in
illiberality of spirit, since such feeling we utterly
disclaim) that the government of the United States, bent
on the final acquisition of all the more proximate
possessions of the Indians, had for many consecutive
years, waged a war of extermination against these
unfortunate people, and more especially those residing
on the Wabash, to which the eye of interest or preference,
or both, had directed a jealous attention. For a series
of years the aggression had been prosecuted with fearful
issue to the Indians, when, at length, one of those daring
spirits, that appear like meteors, few and far between,
in the horizon of glory and intelligence, suddenly started
up in the person of Tecumseh, who, possessed of a genius,
as splendid in conception, as it was bold in execution,
long continued to baffle the plans and defeat the measures
of his most experienced enemies. Whether the warrior owed
his original influence, or rather the opportunity for
development of his extraordinary talents, both diplomatic
and warlike, to the fact of his being the brother of the
Prophet--a similar, and rather mean looking person, whom
a deep reading of the prejudices of his followers had
bound to him in an enthusiasm of superstitious credence
--whether, we repeat, Tecumseh owed his elevation to this
circumstance in part, or wholly to his own merit, it is
difficult to determine with certainty, but it is matter
of history, that plausible and powerful as the Prophet
had rendered himself, his more open and generous brother,
while despising in his heart the mummeries practised by
his wily relative, was not long in supplanting him in
the affections, as he rapidly superseded him in authority
and influence, over his people--All looked up to him as
the defender and saviour of their race, and so well did
he merit the confidence reposed in him, that it was not
long after his first appearance as a leader in the
war-path, that the Americans were made sensible, by
repeated defeat, of the formidable character of the chief
who had thrown himself into the breach of his nation's
tottering fortunes, resolved rather to perish on the spot
on which he stood, than to retire one foot from the home
of their forefathers. What self-ennobling actions the
warrior performed, and what talent he displayed during
that warfare, the page of American history must tell.
With the spirit to struggle against, and the subsequent
good fortune to worst the Americans in many conflicts,
these latter, although beaten, have not been wanting in
generosity to admire their formidable enemy while living,
neither have they failed to venerate his memory when
dead. If they have helped to bind the laurel around his
living brow, they have not been the less willing to weave
the cypress that encircles his memory.
In almost every encounter with them, Tecumseh was more
or less successful; but, like the conqueror of other
days, he might have exclaimed, "another such victory and
I am lost." Weakened in a constant succession of
engagements, the Indians, and the Shawnees in particular,
now presented but a skeleton of their former selves,
while the Americans, on the contrary, with an
indefatigability that would have done credit to a better
cause, kept pouring in fresh forces to the frontier,
until, in the end, opposition to their purpose seemed
almost hopeless. It is doubtful, however, what would have
been the final result of a contest against a warrior of
such acknowledged ability and resource as Tecumseh, had
it not unfortunately happened that the Americans, taking
advantage of the performance of some of those mummeries
by which the Prophet still sought to uphold his fast
declining power, managed to surprise the Shawanee encampment
in the dead of night, when, favoured by circumstances,
they committed fearful havoc, nearly annihilating their
enemies.
Finding every effort to preserve his situation on the
Wabash unavailing, Tecumseh, accompanied by the remnant
of his followers, fell back on the Ohio, Miami, and
Detroit, where his first object was to enter into a
treaty, offensive and defensive, with the formidable
nations of the Delawares, Hurons, etc. An alliance with
the English, then momentarily apprehending a rupture with
the United States, was, moreover renewed, and then with
the hope strong at his heart of combating his enemies
once more, with success, he had with exulting spirit and
bounding step, set out to win to the common interest,
the more distant tribes of the Sioux, Minouminies,
Winnebagoes, Kickapoos, etc., of whom he had secured the
services of the warriors just arrived.
It was amidst the blaze of an united salvo from the demi
lune crowning the bank, and from the shipping, that the
noble chieftain, accompanied by the leaders of those wild
tribes, leaped lightly, yet proudly to the beach; and
having ascended the steep bank by a flight of rude steps
cut out of the earth, finally stood amid the party of
officers waiting to receive them. It would not a little
have surprised a Bond street exquisite of that day to
have witnessed the cordiality with which the dark hand
of the savage was successively pressed in the fairer
palms of the English officers, neither would his
astonishment have been abated, on remarking the proud
dignity of carriage maintained by the former, in this
exchange of courtesy, as though, while he joined heart
to hand wherever the latter fell, he seemed rather to
bestow than to receive a condescension.
Had none of those officers ever previously beheld him,
the fame of his heroic deeds had gone sufficiently before
the warrior to have insured him their warmest greeting
and approbation, and none could mistake a form that, even
amid those who were a password for native majesty, stood
alone in its bearing: but Tecumseh was a stranger to few.
Since his defeat on the Wabash he had been much at
Amherstburg, where he had rendered himself conspicuous
by one or two animated and highly eloquent speeches,
having for their object the consolidation of a treaty,
in which the Indian interests were subsequently bound in
close union with those of England; and, up to the moment
of his recent expedition, had cultivated the most perfect
understanding with the English chiefs.
It might, however, be seen that even while pleasure and
satisfaction at a reunion with those he in torn esteemed,
flashed from his dark and eager eye, there was still
lurking about his manner that secret jealousy of
distinction, which is so characteristic of the haughty
Indian. After the first warm salutations had passed, he
became sensible of the absence of the English chief; but
this was expressed rather by a certain outswelling of
his chest, and the searching glance of his restless eye,
than by any words that fell from his lips. Presently,
he whom he sought, and whose person had hitherto been
concealed by the battery on the hank, was seen advancing
towards him, accompanied by his personal staff. In a
moment the shade passed away from the brow of the warrior,
and warmly grasping and pressing, for the second time,
the hand of a youth--one of the group of junior officers
among whom he yet stood, and who had manifested even more
than his companions the unbounded pleasure he took in
the chieftain's re-appearance--he moved forward, with an
ardour of manner that was with difficulty restrained by
his sense of dignity, to give them the meeting.
The first of the advancing party was a tall, martial
looking man, wearing the dress and insignia of a general
officer. His rather florid countenance was eminently
fine, if not handsome, offering, in its more Roman than
Grecian contour, a model of quiet, manly beauty; while
the eye, beaming with intelligence and candour, gave, in
the occasional flashes which it emitted, indication of
a mind of no common order. There was, notwithstanding,
a benevolence of expression about it that blended (in a
manner to excite attention) with a dignity of deportment,
as much the result of habitual self command, as of the
proud eminence of distinction on which he stood. The
sedative character of middle age, added to long acquired
military habits, had given a certain rigidity to his fine
form, that might have made him appear to a first observer
even older than he was, but the placidity of a countenance
beaming good will and affability, speedily removed the
impression, and, if the portly figure added to his years,
the unfurrowed countenance took from them in equal
proportion.
At his side, hanging on his arm and habited in naval
uniform, appeared one who, from his familiarity of address
with the General, not less than by certain appropriate
badges of distinction, might be known as the commander
of the little fleet then lying in the harbour. Shorter
in person than his companion, his frame made up in activity
what it wanted in height, and there was that easy freedom
in his movements which so usually distinguishes the
carriage of the sailor, and which now offered a remarkable
contrast to that rigidity we have stated to have attached
(quite unaffectedly) to the military commander. His eyes,
of a much darker hue, sparkled with a livelier intelligence,
and although his complexion was also highly florid, if
was softened down by the general vivacity of expression
that pervaded his frank and smiling countenance. The
features, regular and still youthful, wore a bland and
pleasing character; while neither, in look, nor bearing,
nor word could there be traced any of that haughty reserve
usually ascribed to the "lords of the sea." There needed
no other herald to proclaim him for one who had already
seen honorable service, than the mutilated stump of what
had once been an arm: yet in this there was no boastful
display, as of one who deemed he had a right to tread
more proudly because he had chanced to suffer, where all
had been equally exposed, in the performance of a common
duty. The empty sleeve, unostentatiously fastened by a
loop from the wrist to a button of the lappel was suffered
to fall at his side, and by no one was the deficiency
less remarked than by himself.
The greeting between Tecumseh and these officers, was
such as might be expected from warriors bound to each
other by mutual esteem. Each held the other in the highest
honor, but it was particularly remarked that while the
Indian Chieftain looked up to the General with the respect
he felt to be due to him, not merely as the dignified
representative of his "Great Father," but as one of a
heart and actions claiming his highest personal admiration,
his address to his companion, whom he now beheld for the
first time, was warmer, and more energetic; and as he
repeatedly glanced at the armless sleeve, he uttered one
of those quick ejaculatory exclamations, peculiar to his
race, and indicating, in this instance, the fullest extent
of approbation. The secret bond of sympathy which chained
his interest to the Commodore, might have owed its being
to another cause. In the countenance of the latter there
was much of that eagerness of expression, and in the eye
that vivacious fire, that flashed, even in repose, from
his own swarthier and more speaking features; and this
assimilation of character might have been the means of
producing that preference for, and devotedness to, the
cause of the naval commander, that subsequently developed
itself in the chieftain. In a word, the General seemed
to claim the admiration and the respect of the Indian--
the Commodore, his admiration and friendship.
The greeting between these generous leaders was brief.
When the first salutations had been interchanged, it was
intimated to Tecumseh, through the medium of an interpreter,
then in attendance on the General, that a war-council
had been ordered, for the purpose of taking into
consideration the best means of defeating the designs of
the Americans, who, with a view to offensive operations,
had, in the interval of the warrior's absence, pushed on
a considerable force to the frontier. The council,
however, had been delayed, in order that it might have
the benefit of his opinions, and of his experience in
the peculiar warfare which was about to be commenced.
Tecumseh acknowledged his sense of the communication with
the bold frankness of the inartificial son of nature,
scorning to conceal his just self-estimate beneath a veil
of affected modesty. He knew his own worth, and while he
over-valued not one iota of that worth, so did he not
affect to disclaim a consciousness of the fact--that
within his swarthy chest and active brain there beat a
heart and lived a judgment, as prompt to conceive and
execute as those of the proudest he that ever swayed the
destinies of a warlike people. Replying to the
complimentary invitation of the General, he unhesitatingly
said he had done well to await his (Tecumseh's) arrival,
before he determined on his course of action, and that
he should now have the full benefit of his opinions and
advice.
If the chief had been forcibly prepossessed in favour of
the naval commander, the latter had not been less
interested. Since his recent arrival, to assume the
direction of the fleet, Commodore Barclay had had
opportunities of seeing such of the chiefs as were then
assembled at Amherstburg; but great as had been his
admiration of several of these, he had been given to
understand they fell far short, in every moral and physical
advantage, of what their renowned leader would be found
to possess, when, on his return from the expedition in
which he was engaged, fitting opportunity should be had
of bringing them in personal proximity. This admission
was now made in the fullest sense, and as the warrior
moved away to give the greeting to the several chiefs,
and conduct them to the council hall, the gallant sailor
could not refrain from expressing, in the warmest terms
to General Brock, as they moved slowly forward with the
same intention, the enthusiastic admiration excited in
him by the person, the manner, and the bearing, of the
noble Tecumseh.
Again the cannon from the battery and the shipping pealed
forth their thunder. It was the signal for the commencement
of the council, and the scene at that moment was one of
the most picturesque that can well be imagined. The sky
was cloudless, and the river, no longer ruffled by the
now motionless barks of the recently arrived Indians,
yet obeying the action of the tide, offered, as it glided
onward to the lake, the image of a flood of quick-silver;
while, in the distance, that lake itself, smooth as a
mirror, spread far and wide. Close under the bank yet
lingered the canoes, emptied only of their helmsmen (the
chiefs of the several tribes,) while, with strange tongues
and wilder gestures, the warriors of these, as they rested
on their paddles, greeted the loud report of the cannon--
now watching with eager eye the flashes from the vessel's
sides, and now upturning their gaze, and following with
wild surprise, the deepening volumes of smoke that passed
immediately over their heads, from the guns of the battery,
hidden from their view by the elevated and overhanging
bank. Blended with each discharge arose the wild yell,
which they, in such a moment of novel excitement, felt
it impossible to control, and this, answered from the
Indians above and borne in echo almost to the American
shore, had in it something indescribably startling. On
the bank itself the effect was singularly picturesque.
Here were to be seen the bright uniforms of the British
officers, at the head of whom was the tall and martial
figure of General Brock, furthermore conspicuous from
the full and drooping feather that fell gracefully over
his military hat, mingled with the wilder and more fanciful
head dresses of the chiefs. Behind these again, and
sauntering at a pace that showed them to have no share
in the deliberative assembly, whither those we have just
named were now proceeding amid the roar of artillery,
yet mixed together in nearly as great dissimilarity of
garb, were to be seen numbers of the inferior warriors
and of the soldiery, while, in various directions, the
games recently abandoned by the adult Indians, were now
resumed by mere boys. The whole picture was one of strong
animation, contrasting as it did with the quiet of the
little post on the Island, where some twelve or fifteen
men, composing the strength of the detachment, were now
sitting or standing on the battery, crowned, as well as
the fort and shipping, and in compliment to the newly
arrived Indians, with the colours of England.
Such was the scene, varied only as the numerous actors
in it varied their movements, when the event occurred,
with which we commence our next chapter.