CHAPTER X._Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy

At the western extremity of the lake Huron, and almost washed by the

waters of that pigmy ocean, stands the fort of Michilimackinac.

Constructed on a smaller scale, and garrisoned by a less numerical

force, the defences of this post, although less formidable than those

of the Detroit, were nearly similar, at the period embraced by our

story, both in matter and in manner. Unlike the latter fortress,

however, it boasted none of the advantages afforded by culture;

neither, indeed, was there a single spot in the immediate vicinity that

was not clad in the eternal forest of these regions. It is true, that

art and laborious exertion had so far supplied the deficiencies of

nature as to isolate the fort, and throw it under the protecting sweep

of its cannon; but, while this afforded security, it failed to produce

any thing like a pleasing effect to the eye. The very site on which the

fortress now stood had at one period been a portion of the wilderness

that every where around was only terminated by the sands on the lake

shore: and, although time and the axe of the pioneer had in some degree

changed its features, still there was no trace of that blended natural

scenery that so pleasingly diversified the vicinity of the sister fort.

Here and there, along the imperfect clearing, and amid the dark and

thickly studded stumps of the felled trees, which in themselves were

sufficient to give the most lugubrious character to the scene, rose the

rude log cabin of the settler; but, beyond this, cultivation appeared

to have lost her power in proportion with the difficulties she had to

encounter. Even the two Indian villages, L'Arbre-Croche and Chabouiga,

situate about a mile from the fort, with which they formed nearly an

equilateral triangle, were hid from the view of the garrison by the

dark dense forest, in the heart of which they were embedded.

Lake ward the view was scarcely less monotonous; but it was not, as in

the rear, that monotony which is never occasionally broken in upon by

some occurrence of interest. If the eye gazed long and anxiously for

the white sail of the well known armed vessel, charged at stated

intervals with letters and tidings of those whom time, and distance,

and danger, far from estranging, rendered more dear to the memory, and

bound more closely to the heart, it was sure of being rewarded at last;

and then there was no picture on which it could love to linger so well

as that of the silver waves bearing that valued vessel in safety to its

wonted anchorage in the offing. Moreover, the light swift bark canoes

of the natives often danced joyously on its surface; and while the

sight was offended at the savage, skulking among the trees of the

forest, like some dark spirit moving cautiously in its course of secret

destruction, and watching the moment when he might pounce unnoticed on

his unprepared victim, it followed, with momentary pleasure and

excitement, the activity and skill displayed by the harmless paddler,

in the swift and meteor-like race that set the troubled surface of the

Huron in a sheet of hissing foam. Nor was this all. When the eye turned

wood-ward, it fell heavily, and without interest, upon a dim and dusky

point, known to enter upon savage scenes and unexplored countries;

whereas, whenever it reposed upon the lake, it was with an eagerness

and energy that embraced the most vivid recollections of the past, and

led the imagination buoyantly over every well-remembered scene that had

previously been traversed, and which must be traversed again before the

land of the European could be pressed once more. The forest, in a word,

formed, as it were, the gloomy and impenetrable walls of the

prison-house, and the bright lake that lay before it the only portal

through which happiness and liberty could be again secured.

The principal entrance into the fort, which presented four equal sides

of a square, was from the forest; but, immediately opposite to this,

and behind the apartments of the commanding officer, there was another

small gate that opened upon the lake shore; but which, since the

investment of the place, had been kept bolted and locked, with a

precaution befitting the danger to which the garrison was exposed.

Still, there were periods, even now, when its sullen hinges were to be

heard moaning on the midnight breeze; for it served as a medium of

communication between the besieged and others who were no less

critically circumstanced than themselves.

The very day before the Indians commenced their simultaneous attack on

the several posts of the English, the only armed vessel that had been

constructed on these upper lakes, serving chiefly as a medium of

communication between Detroit and Michilimackinac, had arrived with

despatches and letters from the former fort. A well-concerted plan of

the savages to seize her in her passage through the narrow waters of

the river Sinclair had only been defeated by the vigilance of her

commander; but, ever since the breaking out of the war, she had been

imprisoned within the limits of the Huron. Laborious indeed was the

duty of the devoted crew. Several attempts had been renewed by the

Indians to surprise them; but, although their little fleets stole

cautiously and noiselessly, at the still hour of midnight, to the spot

where, at the last expiring rays of twilight, they had beheld her

carelessly anchored, and apparently lulled into security, the subject

of their search was never to be met with. No sooner were objects on the

shore rendered indistinct to the eye, than the anchor was silently

weighed, and, gliding wherever the breeze might choose to carry her,

the light bark was made to traverse the lake, with every sail set,

until dawn. None, however, were suffered to slumber in the presumed

security afforded by this judicious flight. Every man was at his post;

and, while a silence so profound was preserved, that the noise of a

falling pin might have been heard upon her decks, every thing was in

readiness to repel an attack of their enemies, should the vessel, in

her course, come accidentally in collision with their pigmy fleets.

When morning broke, and no sign of their treacherous foes was visible,

the vessel was again anchored, and the majority of the crew suffered to

retire to their hammocks, while the few whose turn of duty it chanced

to be, kept a vigilant look-out, that, on the slightest appearance of

alarm, their slumbering comrades might again be aroused to energy and

action.

Severe and harassing as had been the duty on board this vessel for many

months,--at one moment exposed to the assaults of the savages, at

another assailed by the hurricanes that are so prevalent and so

dangerous on the American lakes,--the situation of the crew was even

less enviable than that of the garrison itself. What chiefly

contributed to their disquietude, was the dreadful consciousness that,

however their present efforts might secure a temporary safety, the

period of their fall was only protracted. A few months more must bring

with them all the severity of the winter of those climes, and then,

blocked up in a sea of ice,--exposed to all the rigour of cold,--all

the miseries of hunger,--what effectual resistance could they oppose to

the numerous bands of Indians who, availing themselves of the

defenceless position of their enemies, would rush from every quarter to

their destruction.

At the outset of these disheartening circumstances the officer had

summoned his faithful crew together, and pointing out the danger and

uncertainty of their position, stated that two chances of escape still

remained to them. The first was, by an attempt to accomplish the

passage of the river Sinclair during some dark and boisterous night,

when the Indians would be least likely to suspect such an intention: it

was at this point that the efforts of their enemies were principally to

be apprehended; but if, under cover of storm and darkness, they could

accomplish this difficult passage, they would easily gain the Detroit,

and thence pass into lake Erie, at the further extremity of which they

might, favoured by Providence, effect a landing, and penetrate to the

inhabited parts of the colony of New York. The other alternative

was,--and he left it to themselves to determine,--to sink the vessel on

the approach of winter, and throw themselves into the fort before them,

there to await and share the destiny of its gallant defenders.

With the generous enthusiasm of their profession, the noble fellows had

determined on the latter course. With their officer they fully

coincided in opinion, that their ultimate hopes of life depended on the

safe passage of the Sinclair; for it was but too obvious, that soon or

late, unless some very extraordinary revolution should be effected in

the intentions of the Indians, the fortress must be starved into

submission. Still, as it was tolerably well supplied with provisions,

this gloomy prospect was remote, and they were willing to run all

chances with their friends on shore, rather than desert them in their

extremity. The determination expressed by them, therefore, was, that

when they could no longer keep the lake in safety, they would, if the

officer permitted it, scuttle the vessel, and attempt an entrance into

the fort, where they would share the fate of the troops, whatever it

might chance to be.

No sooner was this resolution made known, than their young commander

sought an opportunity of communicating with the garrison, This,

however, was no very easy task; for, so closely was the fort hemmed in

by the savages, it was impossible to introduce a messenger within its

walls; and so sudden had been the cutting off of all communication

between the vessel and the shore, that the thought had not even

occurred to either commander to establish the most ordinary

intelligence by signal. In this dilemma recourse was had to an

ingenious expedient. The dispatches of the officer were enclosed in one

of the long tin tubes in which were generally deposited the maps and

charts of the schooner, and to this, after having been carefully

soldered, was attached an inch rope of several hundred fathoms in

length: the case was then put into one of the ship's guns, so placed as

to give it the elevation of a mortar; thus prepared, advantage was

taken of a temporary absence of the Indians to bring the vessel within

half a mile of the shore, and when the attention of the garrison,

naturally attracted by this unusual movement, was sufficiently

awakened, that opportunity was chosen for the discharge of the gun; and

as the quantity of powder had been proportionably reduced for the

limited range, the tube was soon safely deposited within the rampart.

The same means were adopted in replying; and one end of the rope

remaining attached to the schooner, all that was necessary was to

solder up the tube as before, and throw it over the ramparts upon the

sands, whence it was immediately pulled over her side by the watchful

mariners.

As the dispatch conveyed to the garrison, among other subjects of

interest, bore the unwelcome intelligence that the supplies of the crew

were nearly expended, an arrangement was proposed by which, at stated

intervals, a more immediate communication with the former might be

effected. Whenever, therefore, the wind permitted, the vessel was kept

hovering in sight during the day, beneath the eyes of the savages, and

on the approach of evening an unshotted gun was discharged, with a view

of drawing their attention more immediately to her movements; every

sail was then set, and under a cloud of canvass the course of the

schooner was directed towards the source of the Sinclair, as if an

attempt to accomplish that passage was to be made during the night. No

sooner, however, had the darkness fairly set in, than the vessel was

put about, and, beating against the wind, generally contrived to reach

the offing at a stated hour, when a boat, provided with muffled oars,

was sent off to the shore. This ruse had several times deceived the

Indians, and it was on these occasions that the small gate to which we

have alluded was opened, for the purpose of conveying the necessary

supplies.

The buildings of the fort consisted chiefly of block-houses, the

internal accommodations of which were fully in keeping with their rude

exterior, being but indifferently provided with the most ordinary

articles of comfort, and fitted up as the limited resources of that

wild and remote district could supply. The best and most agreeably

situated of these, if a choice could be made, was that of the

commanding officer. This building rose considerably above the others,

and overhanging that part of the rampart which skirted the shores of

the Huron, commanded a full view of the lake, even to its extremity of

frowning and belting forest.

To this block-house there were two staircases; the principal leading to

the front entrance from the barrack-square, the other opening in the

rear, close under the rampart, and communicating by a few rude steps

with the small gate that led upon the sands. In the lower part of this

building, appropriated by the commanding officer to that exclusive

purpose, the official duties of his situation were usually performed;

and on the ground-floor a large room, that extended from front to rear

of the block-house on one side of the passage, had formerly been used

as a hall of council with the Indian chiefs. The floor above this

comprised both his own private apartments and those set apart for the

general use of the family; but, above all, and preferable from their

cheerful view over the lake, were others, which had been reserved for

the exclusive accommodation of Miss de Haldimar. This upper floor

consisted of two sleeping apartments, with a sitting-room, the latter

extending the whole length of the block-house and opening immediately

upon the lake, from the only two windows with which that side of the

building was provided. The principal staircase led into one of the

bed-rooms, and both of the latter communicated immediately with the

sitting-room, which again, in its turn, opened, at the opposite

extremity, on the narrow staircase that led to the rear of the

block-house.

The furniture of this apartment, which might be taken as a fair sample

of the best the country could afford, was wild, yet simple, in the

extreme. Neat rush mats, of an oblong square, and fantastically put

together, so as to exhibit in the weaving of the several coloured reeds

both figures that were known to exist in the creation, and those which

could have no being save in the imagination of their framers, served as

excellent substitutes for carpets, while rush bottomed chairs, the

product of Indian ingenuity also, occupied those intervals around the

room that were unsupplied by the matting. Upon the walls were hung

numerous specimens both of the dress and of the equipments of the

savages, and mingled with these were many natural curiosities, the

gifts of Indian chiefs to the commandant at various periods before the

war.

Nothing could be more unlike the embellishments of a modern European

boudoir than those of this apartment, which had, in some degree, been

made the sanctum of its present occupants. Here was to be seen the

scaly carcass of some huge serpent, extending its now harmless length

from the ceiling to the floor--there an alligator, stuffed after the

same fashion; and in various directions the skins of the beaver, the

marten, the otter, and an infinitude of others of that genus, filled up

spaces that were left unsupplied by the more ingenious specimens of

Indian art. Head-dresses tastefully wrought in the shape of the

crowning bays of the ancients, and composed of the gorgeous feathers of

the most splendid of the forest birds--bows and quivers handsomely, and

even elegantly ornamented with that most tasteful of Indian

decorations, the stained quill of the porcupine; war clubs of massive

iron wood, their handles covered with stained horsehair and feathers

curiously mingled together--machecotis, hunting coats, mocassins, and

leggings, all worked in porcupine quill, and fancifully

arranged,--these, with many others, had been called into requisition to

bedeck and relieve the otherwise rude and naked walls of the apartment.

Nor did the walls alone reflect back the picture of savage ingenuity,

for on the various tables, the rude polish of which was hid from view

by the simple covering of green baize, which moreover constituted the

garniture of the windows, were to be seen other products of their art.

Here stood upon an elevated stand a model of a bark canoe, filled with

its complement of paddlers carved in wood and dressed in full costume;

the latter executed with such singular fidelity of feature, that

although the speaking figures sprung not from the experienced and

classic chisel of the sculptor but from the rude scalping knife of the

savage, the very tribe to which they belonged could be discovered at a

glance by the European who was conversant with the features of each:

then there were handsomely ornamented vessels made of the birch bark,

and filled with the delicate sugars which the natives extract from the

maple tree in early spring; these of all sizes, even to the most tiny

that could well be imagined, were valuable rather as exquisite

specimens of the neatness with which those slight vessels could be put

together, sewn as they were merely with strips of the same bark, than

from any intrinsic value they possessed. Covered over with fantastic

figures, done either in paint, or in quill work artfully interwoven

into the fibres of the bark, they presented, in their smooth and

polished surface, strong evidence of the address of the savages in

their preparation of this most useful and abundant produce of the

country. Interspersed with these, too, were numerous stands filled with

stuffed birds, some of which combined in themselves every variety and

shade of dazzling plumage; and numerous rude cases contained the rarest

specimens of the American butterfly, most of which were of sizes and

tints that are no where equalled in Europe. One solitary table alone

was appropriated to whatever wore a transatlantic character in this

wild and museum-like apartment. On this lay a Spanish guitar, a few

pieces of old music, a collection of English and French books, a couple

of writing-desks, and, scattered over the whole, several articles of

unfinished needle-work.

Such was the apartment in which Madeline and Clara de Haldimar were met

at the moment we have selected for their introduction to our readers.

It was the morning of that day on which the second council of the

chiefs, the result of which has already been seen, was held at Detroit.

The sun had risen bright and gorgeously above the adjacent forest,

throwing his golden beams upon the calm glassy waters of the lake; and

now, approaching rapidly towards the meridian, gradually diminished the

tall bold shadows of the block-houses upon the shore. At the distance

of about a mile lay the armed vessel so often alluded to; her light low

hull dimly seen in the hazy atmosphere that danced upon the waters, and

her attenuated masts and sloping yards, with their slight tracery of

cordage, recalling rather the complex and delicate ramifications of the

spider's web, than the elastic yet solid machinery to which the lives

of those within had so often been committed in sea and tempest. Upon

the strand, and close opposite to the small gate which now stood ajar,

lay one of her boats, the crew of which had abandoned her with the

exception only of a single individual, apparently her cockswain, who,

with the tiller under his arm, lay half extended in the stern-sheets,

his naked chest exposed, and his tarpaulin hat shielding his eyes from

the sun while he indulged in profound repose. These were the only

objects that told of human life. Everywhere beyond the eye rested on

the faint outline of forest, that appeared like the softened tracing of

a pencil at the distant junction of the waters with the horizon.

The windows that commanded this prospect were now open; and through

that which was nearest to the gate, half reclined the elegant, slight,

and somewhat petite form of a female, who, with one small and

delicately formed hand supporting her cheek, while the other played

almost unconsciously with an open letter, glanced her eye alternately,

and with an expression of joyousness, towards the vessel that lay

beyond, and the point in which the source of the Sinclair was known to

lie. It was Clara de Haldimar.

Presently the vacant space at the same window was filled by another

form, but of less girlish appearance--one that embraced all the full

rich contour of the Medicean Venus, and a lazy languor in its movements

that harmonised with the speaking outlines of the form, and without

which the beauty of the whole would have been at variance and

imperfect. Neither did the face belie the general expression of the

figure. The eyes, of a light hazel, were large, full, and somewhat

prominent--the forehead broad, high, and redolent with an expression of

character--and the cheek rich in that peculiar colour which can be

likened only to the downy hues of the peach, and is, in itself, a

physical earnest of the existence of deep, but not boisterous--of

devoted, but not obtrusive affections; an impression that was not, in

the present instance, weakened by the full and pouting lip, and the

rather heavy formation of the lower face. The general expression,

moreover, of a countenance which, closely analysed, could not be termed

beautiful, marked a mind at once ardent in its conceptions, and steady

and resolute in its silent accomplishments of purpose. She was of the

middle height.

Such was the person of Madeline de Haldimar; but attractive, or rather

winning, as were her womanly attributes, her principal power lay in her

voice,--the beauty, nay, the voluptuousness of which nothing could

surpass. It was impossible to listen to the slow, full, rich, deep, and

melodious tones that fell trembling from her lips upon the ear, and not

feel, aye shudder, under all their fascination on the soul. In such a

voice might the Madonna of Raphael have been supposed to offer up her

supplications from the gloomy precincts of the cloister. No wonder that

Frederick de Haldimar loved her, and loved her with all the intense

devotedness of his own glowing heart. His cousin was to him a divinity

whom he worshipped in the innermost recesses of his being; and his, in

return, was the only ear in which the accents of that almost superhuman

voice had breathed the thrilling confession of an attachment, which its

very tones announced could be deep and imperishable as the soul in

which it had taken root. Often in the hours that preceded the period

when they were to have been united heart and mind and thought in one

common destiny, would he start from her side, his brain whirling with

very intoxication, and then obeying another wild impulse, rush once

more into her embrace; and clasping his beloved Madeline to his heart,

entreat her again to pour forth all the melody of that confession in

his enraptured ear. Artless and unaffected as she was generous and

impassioned, the fond and noble girl never hesitated to gratify him

whom alone she loved; and deep and fervent was the joy of the soldier,

when he found that each passionate entreaty, far from being met with

caprice, only drew from the lips of his cousin warmer and more

affectionate expressions of her attachment. Such expressions, coming

from any woman, must have been rapturous and soothing in the extreme;

but, when they flowed from a voice whose very sound was melody, they

acted on the heart of Captain de Haldimar with a potency that was as

irresistible as the love itself which she inspired.

Such was the position of things just before the commencement of the

Indian war. Madeline de Haldimar had been for some time on a visit to

Detroit, and her marriage with her cousin was to have taken place

within a few days. The unexpected arrival of intelligence from

Michilimackinac that her father was dangerously ill, however, retarded

the ceremony; and, up to the present period, their intercourse had been

completely suspended. If Madeline de Haldimar was capable of strong

attachment to her lover, the powerful ties of nature were no less

deeply rooted in her heart, and commiseration and anxiety for her

father now engrossed every faculty of her mind. She entreated her

cousin to defer the solemnisation of their nuptials until her parent

should be pronounced out of danger, and, having obtained his consent to

the delay, instantly set off for Michilimackinac, accompanied by her

cousin Clara, whom, she had prevailed on the governor to part with

until her own return. Hostilities were commenced very shortly

afterwards, and, although Major de Haldimar speedily recovered from his

illness, the fair cousins were compelled to share the common

imprisonment of the garrison.

When Miss de Haldimar joined her more youthful cousin at the window,

through which the latter was gazing thoughtfully on the scene before

her, she flung her arm around her waist with the protecting manner of a

mother. The mild blue eyes of Clara met those that were fastened in

tenderness upon her, and a corresponding movement on her part brought

the more matronly form of her cousin into close and affectionate

contact with her own.

"Oh, Madeline, what a day is this!" she exclaimed; "and how often on my

bended knees have I prayed to Heaven that it might arrive! Our trials

are ended at last, and happiness and joy are once more before us. There

is the boat that is to conduct us to the vessel, which, in its turn, is

to bear me to the arms of my dear father, and you to those of the lover

who adores you. How beautiful does that fabric appear to me now! Never

did I feel half the pleasure in surveying it I do at this moment."

"Dear, dear girl!" exclaimed Miss de Haldimar,--and she pressed her

closer and in silence to her heart: then, after a slight pause, during

which the mantling glow upon her brow told how deeply she desired the

reunion alluded to by her cousin--"that, indeed, will be an hour of

happiness to us both, Clara; for irrevocably as our affections have

been pledged, it would be silly in the extreme to deny that I long most

ardently to be restored to him who is already my husband. But, tell

me," she concluded, with an archness of expression that caused the

long-lashed eyes of her companion to sink beneath her own, "are you

quite sincere in your own case? I know how deeply you love your father

and your brothers, but do these alone occupy your attention? Is there

not a certain friend of Charles whom you have some little curiosity to