Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)Richardson, Major (John)
General
Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)
Richardson, Major (John)
Pontiac's Conspiracy, 1763-1765 -- Fiction
"I have stated," pursued the interesting soldier, "that the officer who
led the band of Indians was a man of gigantic stature, and of
apparently great strength. My attention was particularly directed to
him from this circumstance, and as I was on the extreme flank of the
grenadiers, and close to Captain de Haldimar, had every opportunity of
observing his movements principally pointed at that officer. He first
discharged a carbine, the ball of which killed a man of the company at
his (Captain de Haldimar's) side; and then, with evident rage at having
been defeated in his aim, he took a pistol from his belt, and advancing
with rapid strides to within a few paces of his intended victim,
presented it in the most deliberate manner. At that moment, gentlemen,
(and it was but the work of a moment,) a thousand confused and almost
inexplicable feelings rose to my heart. The occasion I had long sought
was at length within my reach; but even the personal considerations,
which had hitherto influenced my mind, were sunk in the anxious desire
I entertained to preserve the life of an officer so universally
beloved, and so every way worthy of the sacrifice. While yet the pistol
remained levelled, I sprang before Captain de Haldimar, received the
ball in my breast, and had just strength sufficient to fire my musket
at this formidable enemy when I sank senseless to the earth.
"It will not be difficult for you, gentlemen, who have feeling minds,
to understand the pleasurable pride with which, on being conveyed to
Captain de Haldimar's own apartments in Quebec, I found myself almost
overwhelmed by the touching marks of gratitude showered on me by his
amiable relatives. Miss Clara de Haldimar, in particular, like a
ministering angel, visited my couch of suffering at almost every hour,
and always provided with some little delicacy, suitable to my
condition, of which I had long since tutored myself to forget even the
use. But what principally afforded me pleasure, was to remark the
consolations which she tendered to my poor drooping Ellen, who, already
more than half subdued by the melancholy change in our condition in
life, frequently spent hours together in silent grief at the side of my
couch, and watching every change in my countenance with all the intense
anxiety of one who feels the last stay on earth is about to be severed
for ever. Ah! how I then longed to disclose to this kind and
compassionating being the true position of her on whom she lavished her
attention, and to make her known, not as the inferior honored by her
notice, but as the equal alike worthy of her friendship and deserving
of her esteem; but the wide, wide barrier that divided the wife of the
private soldier from the daughter and sister of the commissioned
officer sealed my lips, and our true condition continued unrevealed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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