Wacousta | Page 3

Sabbath day proudly floated the colors under
which he had served, and which he never could bring himself to
disown.
It was at Strabane that the old lady, with whom I was a great favorite,
used to enchain my young interest by detailing various facts connected
with the seige she so well remembered, and infused into me a longing
to grow up to manhood that I might write a book about it. The details of
the Ponteac plan for the capture of the two forts were what she most
enlarged upon, and although a long lapse of years of absence from the
scene, and ten thousand incidents of a higher and more immediate
importance might have been supposed to weaken the recollections of so
early a period of life, the impression has ever vividly remained. Hence
the first appearance of "Wacousta" in London in 1832, more than a
quarter of a century later. The story is founded solely on the artifice of
Ponteac to possess himself of those two last British forts. All else is
imaginary.
It is not a little curious that I, only a few years subsequent to the
narration by old Mrs. Erskine of the daring and cunning feats of
Ponteac, and his vain attempt to secure the fort of Detroit, should
myself have entered it in arms. But it was so. I had ever hated school
with a most bitter hatred, and I gladly availed myself of an offer from
General Brock to obtain for me a commission in the King's service.
Meanwhile I did duty as a cadet with the gallant 41st regiment, to
which the English edition of "Wacousta" was inscribed, and was one of
the guard of honor who took possession of the fort. The duty of a
sentinel over the British colors, which had just been hoisted was
assigned to me, and I certainly felt not a little proud of the distinction.
Five times within half a century had the flag of that fortress been
changed. First the lily of France, then the red cross of England, and
next the stars and stripes of America had floated over its ramparts; and
then again the red cross, and lastly the stars. On my return to this
country a few years since, I visited those scenes of stirring excitement

in which my boyhood had been passed, but I looked in vain for the
ancient fortifications which had given a classical interest to that region.
The unsparing hand of utilitarianism had passed over them, destroying
almost every vestige of the past. Where had risen the only fortress in
America at all worthy to give antiquity to the scene, streets had been
laid out and made, and houses had been built, leaving not a trace of its
existence save the well that formerly supplied the closely beseiged
garrison with water; and this, half imbedded in the herbage of an
enclosure of a dwelling house of mean appearance, was rather to be
guessed at than seen; while at the opposite extremity of the city, where
had been conspicuous for years the Bloody Run, cultivation and
improvement had nearly obliterated every trace of the past.
Two objections have been urged against "Wacousta" as a consistent
tale--the one as involving an improbability, the other a geographical
error. It has been assumed that the startling feat accomplished by that
man of deep revenge, who is not alone in his bitter hatred and contempt
for the base among those who, like spaniels, crawl and kiss the dust at
the instigation of their superiors, and yet arrogate to themselves a claim
to be considered gentlemen and men of honor and independence--it has,
I repeat, been assumed that the feat attributed to him in connection with
the flag-staff of the fort was impossible. No one who has ever seen
these erections on the small forts of that day would pronounce the same
criticism. Never very lofty, they were ascended at least one-third of
their height by means of small projections nailed to them for footholds
for the artillerymen, frequently compelled to clear the flag lines
entangled at the truck; therefore a strong and active man, such as
Wacousta is described to have been, might very well have been
supposed, in his strong anxiety for revenge and escape with his victim,
to have doubled his strength and activity on so important an occasion,
rendering that easy of attainment by himself which an ordinary and
unexcited man might deem impossible. I myself have knocked down a
gate, almost without feeling the resistance, in order to escape the
stilettos of assassins.
The second objection is to the narrowness attributed in the tale to the
river St. Clair. This was done in the license usually accorded to a writer

of fiction, in order to give greater effect to the