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About The Chemawa American (Chemawa, Or.) 19??-current | View Entire Issue (Nov. 1, 1913)
TH E CHEMAWA A M E R IC A N 7 edly his friend, b u t really his treacherous foe. T h ere are few, if any, instances in history m ore indicative of lofty nobility and of exalted loyalty to a cause th an th at exhibited by th is “ k in g of th e w oods” in his pathetic preparation for his apotheosis. T he A m erican forces, n um bering about tw enty-five h u n d red , under the in trep id H arriso n , advanced im patiently to the attack . Tecum seh gave th e signal for his w arriors to enter the com bat w hich was to be his doom , by giving the Shaw nee war whoop and firing his g u n . T h e clash was sh arp , desperate, gory and destructive. T h e B ritish left w ing was broken w ith the first irresistible blow of th e A m ericans. T h e red coats stood not upon the order of th eir going, b u t w ent at once, fleeing like frightened sheep before the storm , or falling easy prey into the hands of the victors. P rocter, the craven-hearted general, at the ea r liest intim ation of disaster, m ounted his horse and deserting his stricken and helpless grenadiers, precipitately fled to a haven of safety, sixty- five miles aw ay. T h e red men would not yield. Com m anded by th eir chieftain and encouraged by his clarion voice, his w ords, “ Be brave, be b rav e!” ran g o u t am id the roar of battle; they stood and fought like w arriors w orthy th eir race and w orthy their fearless leader, who, like th e illustrious E arl of W arw ick, M aker of K ings, at the battle of Bar- n et, sou g h t the m idst of the carnage and courted death. Between T e cu m seh ’s In d ian s and the dashing cavalrym en of Colonel Johnson, the fray was m ost fierce and deadly. It was hand to hand, and tom ahaw k and sabre did th e ir bloody w ork. It was brief, not a red w arrior w av ered until the w ar-w hoops of T ecum seh ceased, till th a t voice w hich, like the bugle blast of the Scotch clansm an of old, “ was w orth a th o u sand m e n ,” was suddenly hushed in death. T h u s heroically passed the m ajestic soul of T ecum seh. T h e final hopes of the red m an were interred w ith his bones. T h ere was to be no resurrectio n . H e gave his life blood, as th e fearless and patriotic have ever done—on the field of valor, for the rig h ts of a race; his re quiem was the clash of arm s and the din of battle: “ Oil, fading h ono rs of th e dead; O h, high am bition low ly la id .” Amid th e w ar-cries of his d o ughty braves, as they fought on around his fallen form , his spirit was wafted to the “ happy h u n tin g g ro u n d s .” H is grief-stricken w arriors stealth ily recovered his body d u rin g the n ig h t, as it lay upon the fatal field under the fitful light of the v ic to r’s cam pfires. But his m em ory needs no m onum ent of m arble or tablet of brass. H is renow n is indelibly recorded on the pages of im perishable history. H e was th e finest flower of the A m erican aboriginal race. G reater hero hath never died, nor yet shall fall; his savage genius was all b u t sub-
