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
And with what feelings did they now re-enter the fort, and what an
aspect did it present! Half-drunken Indians were yet engaged in
the work of plunder and destruction, insomuch so that it scarcely
appeared to them the same place from which they had sallied out in
the morning; and there were moments when the stoutest-hearted wished
that they had never returned to it, but perished on the field where
their comrades lay, unconscious of the past, regardless of the
future of desolation, of which all they saw seemed to give promise.
The officers' quarters, and the blockhouses, which had afforded
them protection and shelter during many a long year, were now burst
open, and every article of heavy bedding and furniture hurled into
the square--the latter ripped open, and broken, and the feathers
and fragments strewn around as if in mockery of the neatness that
had ever been a distinctive characteristic of the well--swept parade
ground, where heretofore a pin might have been picked up without
a finger being soiled in the act. These were, seemingly, too minute
considerations to have weighed at such a moment when higher and
more important interests were at stake; but, to the well-regulated
eye of the soldier, accustomed to order and decorum, they were now
mountains of inequality and discomfort, which contributed as much
to the annoyance and mortification of his position as the very fact
of captivity itself; and if this was the feeling generally of the
men, how deep must have been its effect on the officers, and
particularly on Capt. Headley, who had ever been punctilious to a
nicety in all that regarded the internal arrangements of Fort
Dearborn. But, offensive as this was, how much more so was it to
behold many of the band fantastically arrayed, not only in their
own clothing, but in that of their wives, desecrating, as it were,
the terrible solemnity of the day, and mocking at the severity of
suffering to which the latter had been subjected.
Of the Indians who had formed their escort, some stopped outside
the gate, others mixed with the spectators, and only about a dozen
followed them to the mess room, which Winnebeg said he had selected
for their temporary quarters, as being the least liable to
interruption or molestation. He promised to send them food, and
later in the evening, when all was quiet, to conduct the two officers
to their wives, who, for greater quiet and security, were still
lying concealed in the canoe where he had first placed them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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