Wau-nan-gee; Or, the Massacre at Chicago: A Romance of the American RevolutionRichardson, Major (John)
General
Wau-nan-gee; Or, the Massacre at Chicago: A Romance of the American Revolution
Richardson, Major (John)
Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Fort Dearborn Massacre, Chicago, Ill., 1812 -- Fiction; Massacres -- Fiction
"What would the chief Winnebeg?" asked Captain Headley, with dignity.
"He brings with him a flag. Are the Pottowatomies sick with blood?"
"The Pottowatomies are strong," returned the old warrior, in the
figurative language of his race, "but they would not slay the brave.
If the warriors of the white chief will lay down their arms and
surrender themselves prisoners, their lives shall be spared."
"This is well to promise," rejoined the commanding officer; "but
what reason have we to believe that the Pottowatomies are serious?
They know that we will fight to the last, and they seek to save
their own lives by fair words."
"On the faith of a chief, I pledge myself that their word shall be
kept. Pee-to-tum is dead--he has no longer power over the young
men, and they will now obey the voice of their own leaders."
"The word of Winnebeg is always good," replied Capt. Headley, "but
I distrust his young men; they received presents from their
Great Father, and promised to escort his soldiers to Fort Wayne.
How have they kept their word? Look around. More than half my
soldiers lie there; but, not alone. If the Pottowatomie count well,
they will find more than two Indians for every white man."
"Our Father's warriors are brave," returned the chief, "and so the
Pottowatomies would spare their blood. If they surrender their
arms, I promise, in their name, that no more shall be spilt."
"I will consult my brave soldiers--they shall decide," observed
the commandant, "not that I doubt your word or your good intentions,
Winnebeg, but as you had not the power to restrain your young men
at first, how am I to know that you can do so now? At present we
have arms in our hands, and can defend ourselves; but if we yield
them up, we may be tomahawked the next moment. However, as I said
before, my brave, followers shall decide."
"Mr. Elmsley," he added, turning coolly to his subaltern, "count
up our little force, and ascertain how many men of the detachment
remain."
"Two-and-twenty, sir," returned his subaltern, who had taken but
a few minutes to enumerate them.
"Two-and-twenty out of sixty with whom we advanced to the charge
this morning, besides two officers--one mortally wounded, the other
missing. Well, this is rather hot work; but you see, Winnebeg,
that if our loss has been more than forty, including the Miamis,
the Pottowatomies killed are more than double in number."
Winnebeg replied not, but he looked imploringly at Captain Headley,
as if desirous that he should accept the offered terms without
irritating his people with allusions to their heavy loss.
"Well, men," continued that officer, who had remarked the particular
expression of the countenance of the chief, "what is your decision?
I am perfectly ready to act as you shall say, either to fight to
the last, or to surrender, with the chance of being knocked on the
head afterwards."
"Had we not better put it to vote, sir?" suggested Lieut. Elmsley;
"the responsibility will then rest with the majority."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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