SCENE 118 - Early evening, July 25, 1814, on banks of Niagara
River overlooking Niagara Falls
(Thirty-three years after the interview last related, an American
army is once again arrayed against the troops of England; but the scene
is transferred from the banks of the Hudson to those of the Niagara.)
(The body of Washington has long lain mouldering in the tomb; but as
time is fast obliterating the slight impressions of political enmity or
personal envy, his name is hourly receiving new luster, and his worth and
integrity each moment becomes more visible, not only to his countrymen,
but to the world.)
(He is already the acknowledged hero of an age of reason and truth;
and many a young heart, amongst those who formed the pride of our army in
1814, is glowing with the recollection of the one great name of America,
and inwardly beating with the sanguine expectation of emulating, in some
degree, its renown.)
(In no one are these virtuous hopes more vivid than in the bosom of a
young officer who stands on Table rock, contemplating the great cataract,
on the evening of the 25th of July of that bloody war.)
YOUNG OFFICER (WHARTON DUNWOODIE)
sings NIAGARA:
"Can one believe ... the sight of these ... enormous
cataracts ... Could forces of ... our nature ev -... er hold Niagara back?...
It demonstrates how quickly pass ... the moments of ... our time ... how
days ... and years rush quickly by ... until we reach ... our prime."
"Like river wa -... ters over ra -... pids tumble
to the edge ... then plunge ... with greater speed ... beneath this rocky
ledge ... Can one compare ... the depths below ... this mighty waterfall
... with the abyss ... in which we sink ... when death consumes us all,..."
"... but the river ... continues onward ... its never
ending flow ... like the no -...ble ... God-fearing spirits ... that rise
... in the after glow."
(The person of this youth is tall and finely molded, indicating a
just proportion between strength and activity; his deep black eyes are of
a searching and dazzling brightness. At times, as they gaze upon the flood
of waters that rush tumultuously at his feet, there is a stern and daring
look that flashes from them, which denotes the ardor of an enthusiast. But
this proud expression is softened by the lines of a mouth, around which
there plays a suppressed archness, that partakes of feminine beauty.)
(His hair shone in the sun like ringlets of gold, as the air from
the falls gently move the rich curls from a forehead, whose whiteness shows
that exposure and heat alone have given their darker hue to a face glowing
with health. There is another officer standing by the side of this favored
youth; and both seem, by the interest they betray, to be gazing, for the
first time, at the wonder of the western world.)
(A profound silence is observed by each, until the companion of the
officer suddenly starts, and pointing eagerly with his sword into the abyss
beneath, exclaims -)
SOLDIER: See, Captain DUNWOODIE, there is a man crossing in the very
eddies of the cataract, and in a skiff no bigger than an egg-shell.
Capt. DUNWOODIE: He has a knapsack - it is probably a soldier. Let
us meet him at the ladder, MASON, and learn his tidings.
(Some time was expended in reaching the spot where the adventurer is
intercepted. Contrary to the expectations of the young soldiers, he proves
to be a man far advanced in life, and evidently no follower of the camp.
His years might be seventy, and they are indicated more by the thin hairs
of silver that lay scattered over his wrinkled brow, than by any apparent
failure of his system.)
(His frame is meager and bent; but it is the attitude of habit, for
his sinews are strung with the toil of half a century. His dress is mean,
and manifests the economy of its owner, by the number and nature of its
repairs. On his back is a scantily furnished pack, that led to the mistake
in his profession.)
(A few words of salutation, and, on the part of the young men, of surprise,
that one so aged should venture so near the whirlpools of the cataract,
are exchanged; when the old man inquires, with a voice that begins to manifest
the tremor of age, the news from the contending armies.)
MASON: We whipped the red-coats here the other day, among the grass
on the Chippewa plains, since then,
we have been playing hide-and-go-seek with the ships; but we are now marching
back from where we started, shaking our heads, and as surly as the devil.
Capt.. DUNWOODIE (with a milder demeanor and an air of kindness):
Perhaps you have a son among the soldiers, if so, tell me his name and regiment,
and I will take you to him.
(The old man shakes his head, and passing his hand over his silver locks,
with an air of meek resignation, he answers -)
OLD MAN: No, I am alone in the world.
MASON: You should have added, Captain DUNWOODIE, if you could find
either; for nearly half our army has marched down the road, and by this
time, under the walls of Fort George,
for any thing that we know to the contrary.
(The old man stops suddenly, and looks earnestly from one of his companions
to the other; the action being observed by the soldiers, they pause, also.)
OLD MAN: Did I hear right? (raising his head to screen his eyes
from the setting sun) What did he call you?
Capt. DUNWOODIE (smiling): My name is WHARTON DUNWOODIE.
(The stranger motions silently for him to remove his hat, which the youth
does accordingly, and his fair hair blows aside like curls of silk, and
opens the whole of his ingenuous countenance to the inspection of the other.)
OLD MAN (with vehemence): 'Tis like our native land! improving
with time; - God has blessed both.
Capt. DUNWOODIE (laughing a little): Why do you stare thus,
Lieutenant MASON? You show more astonishment than when you saw the falls.
MASON: Oh, the falls! they are a thing to be looked at on a moon shiny
night, by your Aunt SARAH and that gay old bachelor, Colonel SINGLETON;
but a fellow like myself never shows surprise, unless it may be at such
a touch as this.
(The extraordinary vehemence of the stranger's manner has passed away
as suddenly as it was exhibited, but he listens to this speech with deep
interest, while DUNWOODIE replies a little gravely -)
Capt. DUNWOODIE: Come, come, TOM, no jokes about my good aunt, I beg;
she is kindness itself; and I have heard it whispered that her youth was
not altogether happy.
MASON: Why, as to rumor, there goes one in Accomac, that Col. SINGLETON
offers himself to her regularly every Valentine's day; and there are some
who add, that your old great-aunt helps his suit.
Capt. DUNWOODIE: (laughing) Aunt JEANETTE, dear good soul,
she thinks but little of marriage in any shape, I believe, since the death
of Dr. SITGREAVES. There were some whispers of a courtship between them
formerly, but it ended in nothing but civilities, and I suspect that the
whole story arises from the intimacy of Colonel SINGLETON and my father.
You know they were comrades in the horse, as indeed was your own father.
MASON: I know all that, of course; but you must not tell me that the
particular, prim, bachelor goes so often to General DUNWOODIE's plantation
merely for the sake of talking old soldier with your father. The last time
I was there, that yellow, sharp-nosed housekeeper of your mother's took
me into the pantry, and said that the colonel was no despisable match, as
she called it, and how the sale of his plantation in Georgia had brought
him - oh, Lord, I don't know how much.
Capt. DUNWOODIE: Quite likely, KATY HAYNES is no bad calculator.
(They stop during this conversation in uncertainty whether their new
companion is to be left or not.)
(The old man listens to each word as it is uttered, with the most
intense interest; but, towards the conclusion of the dialogue, the earnest
attention of his countenance changes to a kind of inward smile. He shakes
his head, and passing his hand over his forehead, seems to be thinking of
other times. MASON pays but little attention to the expression of his features,
and continues -)
MASON: To me she is selfishness embodied!
DUNWOODIE: Her selfishness does but little harm. One of her greatest
difficulties is her aversion to the blacks. She says that she never saw
but one that she liked.
MASON: And who was he?
DUNWOODIE: His name was CAESAR; he was a house-servant of my late
grandfather WHARTON. You don't remember him I believe; he died the same
year with his master, while we were children. KATY yearly sings his requiem,
and, upon my word, I believe he deserved it. I have heard something of his
helping my English uncle, as we call General WHARTON, in some difficulty
that occurred in the old war. My mother always speaks of him with great
affection. both CAESAR and KATY came to Virginia with my mother when she
married. My mother was -
OLD MAN (interrupting in a voice that startles the young soldiers
by its abruptness and energy): An angel!
DUNWOODIE: Did you know her? (with a glow of pleasure on his cheek.)
(The reply of the stranger is interrupted by sudden and heavy explosions
of artillery, which are immediately followed by continued volleys of small-arms,
and in a few minutes the air is filled with the tumult of a warm and well-contested
battle.)
SCENE 119 - Same evening at sundown along northern upper banks
of Niagara
(The two soldiers hasten with precipitation toward the camp accompanied
by their new acquaintance. The excitement and anxiety created by the approaching
fight prevent a continuance of the conversation, and the three hold their
way to the army, making occasional conjectures on the cause of the fire,
and the probability of a general engagement.)
(During their short and hurried walk, Capt. DUNWOODIE, however, throws
several friendly glances at the old man, who moves over the ground with
astonishing energy for his years, for the heart of the youth is warmed by
an eulogium on a mother that he adores.)
(In a short time, they join the regiment to which the officers belong,
when the captain, squeezing the stranger's hand, earnestly begs that he
would make inquiries after him on the following morning, and that he might
see him in his own tent. Here they separate.)
(Everything in the American camp announces an approaching struggle.
At a distance of a few miles, the sound of cannon and musketry is heard
above the roar of the cataract. The troops are soon in motion, and a movement
made to support the division of the army which is already engaged.)
SCENE 120 - Night at foot of Lundy's
Lane
(Night has set in before the reserve and irregulars reach the foot
of Lundy's Lane, a road that diverges from the river and crosses a conical
eminence, at no great distance from the Niagara highway. The summit of this
hill is crowned with the cannon of the British., and in the flat beneath
is the remnant of Scott's gallant brigade, which for a long time has held
an unequal contest with distinguished bravery.)
( A new line is interposed, and one column of the Americans directed
to charge up the hill, parallel to the road. This column takes the English
in flank, and, bayoneting their artillerists, gains possession of the cannon.
They are immediately joined by their comrades, and the enemy is swept from
the hill. But large reinforcements are joining the English general momentarily,
and their troops are too brave to rest easy under the defeat.)
(Repeated and bloody charges are made to recover the guns, but in
all they are repulsed with slaughter. During the last of these struggles,
the ardour of the youthful captain mentioned urges him him to lead his men
some distance in advance, to scatter a daring party of the enemy. He succeeds,
but in returning to the line misses his lieutenant from the station that
he ought to have occupied.)
(Soon after this repulse, which was the last, orders are given to
the shattered troops to return to the camp. The British are nowhere to be
seen, and preparations are made to take in such of the wounded as could
be moved.)
SCENE 121 - Night on a hillside of Lundy's Lane after the battle
(At this moment WHARTON DUNWOODIE, impelled by affection for his friend,
seizes a lighted fusee, and taking two of his men, goes himself in quest
of his body, where he was supposed to have fallen. MASON is found on the
side of the hill, seated with great composure, but unable to walk from a
fractured leg. DUNWOODIE sees and flies to the side of his comrade, exclaiming
- )
DUNWOODIE: Ah - dear TOM, I knew I should find you the nearest man
to the enemy.
MASON: Softly, softly, handle me tenderly; no, there is a brave fellow
still nearer than myself, and who he can be I know not. he rushed out of
our smoke, near my platoon, to make a prisoner or some such thing, but,
poor fellow, he never came back; there he lies just over the hillock. I
have spoken to him several times, but I fancy he is past answering.
(DUNWOODIE goes to the spot, and to his astonishment beholds the aged
stranger.)
(He is lying on his back, with his face exposed to the glaring light
of the fusee; his eyes are closed, as if in slumber; his lips, sunken with
years, are slightly moved from their natural position, but it seems more
like a smile than a convulsion which has caused the changed. His hands are
pressed upon his breast, and one of them contains a substance that glitters
like silver.)
DUNWOODIE sings WHO IS THIS OLD
MAN:
"Who is this old man ... where did he come from ...
he rushes out on the battle field ... without a sword or gun ... Too old
for a soldier ... and he said he had no son ... but must have cared ...
for someone out there ... He called my mother an angel ... How did he know
her?
(repeat)
"Could this be the man ... Mother called, "The
Spy," ... who risked his life ... in a bold disguise ... and saved
her brother's life?... We will carry him back ... bury him with dignity
... there in his homeland ... to rest now in peace ...But what is this in
his hand? ... A tiny tin box."
(As the men approach to obey, Captain DUNWOODIE stoops, and removing
the limbs, perceives the place where the bullet found a passage to his heart.
The subject of his last care is a tin box, through which the fatal lead
had gone; and the dying moments of the old man must have passed in drawing
it from his bosom. DUNWOODIE opens it, and finds a paper, in which, to his
amazement, he reads the following - )
====Circumstances of political importance, which involve the
lives and fortunes of many, have hitherto kept secret what this paper now
reveals. HARVEY BIRCH has for years been a faithful and unrequited servant
of his country. Though man does not, may God reward him for his conduct.
Geo. Washington====
(It is the SPY OF THE NEUTRAL GROUND, who died as he had lived, devoted
to his country, and a martyr to her liberties.)
SOLDIERS sing FINALE:
"Can one compare ... the kind of men ... this mighty
country knows ... to ones like those ... who lived back when ... their honor
truly showed?.. May this nation ... continue onward ... its never ending
flow ... of such noble ... God-fearing spirits ... to rise in the after
glow?"
THE END
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