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
"I have thought of all that, Ronayne," replied Mrs. Headley, "and
I cannot but suppose that this retreat was a temporary one. In all
probability, when Wau-nan-gee issued from the summer-house, he was
in the act of proceeding to make his preparations for finishing
the work just begun, but seeing that I had not yet left the grounds,
waited to know what my movements would be before he took any farther
step. My stationing the boat's crew before the gate, where they
could command the whole of the view between the cottage and the
summer-house, acted as a check upon them, and little dreaming, I
presume, that I had discovered the trap-door, they had intended,
on my departure across the river, to avail themselves of my absence,
and bear her off into the forest. As for the deep grief which I
witnessed on entering the summer-house, that may easily be accounted
for. A woman of refinement, education, and generous susceptibility,
however unhappily carried away she may be by a resistless, and, in
her view, fated passion, does not without a pang tear herself from
old associations to enter upon new, especially where they are of
an inferior character. She may mourn her weakness even at the moment
she most yields to it. One dominant thought may fill her soul--one
master sentiment influence all her actions, and govern the pulsations
of her heart, but that does not exclude the workings of other and
nobler emotions of the mind. Even when she feels herself most
tyrannized over by the passion, the infatuation, the destiny against
which she finds it vain to struggle, sorrow for her altered position
will intrude itself, and then is her heart strengthened and her
mind consoled only by the reflection that the sacrifice was
indispensable to the attainment of that, without which, in the
strong excitement of her imagination, she deems life valueless.
Charity should induce us to believe that it is, what I have already
termed it, a disease, for on no other principle can we account for
that aberration of the passions, the intellect and the judgment
which can lead such a woman to forget that mind chiefly gives value
to love, and to sacrifice all that is esteemed most honorable in
the sex by man, to the fascination of mere animal beauty. Ah!
Ronayne, this must have been the case in the present instance. You
see, I probe you deeply--but enough!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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