Life of Edwin Forrest, the American Tragedian. Volume 1 (of 2)Alger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Life of Edwin Forrest, the American Tragedian. Volume 1 (of 2)
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Forrest, Edwin, 1806-1872
In an interview with the English, after deadly hostilities have begun
to rage, Aganemo, a subject of Metamora, who, for some supposed wrong,
has turned against him, is called in, and bears testimony against his
chief and his tribe. Metamora cries, "Let me see his eyes;" and, going
close in front of him, addresses the cowering recreant: "Look me in
the face, Aganemo. Thou turnest away. The spirit of a dog has entered
thee, and thou crouchest. Dost thou come here with a lie in thy heart
to witness against me? Thine eye cannot rest on thy chieftain. White
men, can he speak words of truth who has been false to his nation and
false to his friends?" Fitz Arnold says, "Send him hence." Metamora
interposes with an imperial mien full of dread import, "I will do
that," and strikes him dead on the spot, exclaiming, "Slave of the
whites, follow Sassamon,"--Sassamon being the name of another traitor
whom he had previously slain in the midst of his own braves.
Fitz Arnold orders his men to seize the high-handed executioner of
their witness. Towering alone in solitary and solid grandeur, with
accents and gestures whose impassioned sincerity painted every thought
as a visible reality and made the excited audience lean out of their
seats, Metamora hurled back his electric defiance:
"Come! my knife has drunk the blood of the traitor, but it is not
satisfied. Men of the pale race, beware! The mighty spirits of the
Wampanoags are hovering over your heads. They stretch their shadowy
arms and call for vengeance. They shall have it. Tremble! From East to
West, from the South to the North, the tribes have roused from their
slumbers. They grasp the hatchet. The pale-faces shall wither under
their power. White men. Metamora is your foe!"
The soldiers level their guns at him. He suddenly seizes a white man
and places him before himself. The living shield thus extemporized
falls, perforated with bullets. Metamora hurls his tomahawk to the
floor, where it sticks quivering, while he cries, "Thus do I defy your
power!" and darts away, leaving them dumb with astonishment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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