Wacousta | Page 4

scene represented as
having occurred there, and, of course, in no way intended as a
geographical description of the river, nor was it necessary. In the same
spirit and for the same purpose it has been continued.
It will be seen that at the termination of the tragedy enacted at the
bridge, by which the Bloody Run was in those days crossed, that the
wretched wife of the condemned soldier pronounced a curse that could
not, of course, well be fulfilled in the course of the tale. Some few
years ago I published in Canada--I might as well have done so in
Kamschatka--the continuation, which was to have been dedicated to the
last King of England, but which, after the death of that monarch, was
inscribed to Sir John Harvey, whose letter, as making honorable
mention of a gallant and beloved brother, I feel it a duty to the memory
of the latter to subjoin.
GOVERNMENT HOUSE, FREDERICTON, N.B.,
Major Richardson, Montreal.
November 26th, 1839.
"Dear Sir;--I am favored with your very interesting communication of
the 2nd instant, by which I learn that you are the brother of two youths
whose gallantry and merits--and with regard to one of them, his
suferings--during the late war, excited my warmest admiration and
sympathy. I beg you to believe that I am far from insensible to the
affecting proofs which you have made known to me of this grateful
recollection of any little service I may have had it in my power to
render them; and I will add that the desire which I felt to serve the
father will be found to extend itself to the son, if your nephew should
ever find himself under circumstances to require from me any service
which it may be within my power to render him."
"With regard to your very flattering proposition to inscribe your present
work to me, I can only say that, independent of the respect to which the
author of so very charming a production as 'Wacousta' is entitled, the
interesting facts and circumstances so unexpectedly brought to my

knowledge and recollection would ensure a ready acquiescence on my
part."
"I remain, dear sir your very faithful servant"
"(Signed) J. HARVEY. "
The "Prophecy Fulfilled," which, however, has never been seen out of
the small country in which it appeared--Detroit, perhaps, alone
excepted--embraces and indeed is intimately connected with the
Beauchamp tragedy, which took place at or near Weisiger's Hotel, in
Frankfort, Kentucky, where I had been many years before confined as a
prisoner of war. While connecting it with the "Prophecy Fulfilled," and
making it subservient to the end I had in view, I had not read or even
heard of the existence of a work of the same character, which had
already appeared from the pen of an American author. Indeed, I have
reason to believe that the "Prophecy Fulfilled," although not published
until after a lapse of years, was the first written. No similarity of
treatment of the subject exists between the two versions, and this, be it
remembered, I remark without in the slightest degree impugning the
merit of the production of my fellow-laborer in the same field.
THE AUTHOR.
New York City, January 1st, 1851.
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
As we are about to introduce our readers to scenes with which the
European is little familiarised, some few cursory remarks, illustrative
of the general features of the country into which we have shifted our
labours, may not be deemed misplaced at the opening of this volume.
Without entering into minute geographical detail, it may be necessary
merely to point out the outline of such portions of the vast continent of
America as still acknowledge allegiance to the English crown, in order

that the reader, understanding the localities, may enter with deeper
interest into the incidents of a tale connected with a ground hitherto
untouched by the wand of the modern novelist.
All who have ever taken the trouble to inform themselves of the
features of a country so little interesting to the majority of Englishmen
in their individual character must be aware,--and for the information of
those who are not, we state,--that that portion of the northern continent
of America which is known as the United States is divided from the
Canadas by a continuous chain of lakes and rivers, commencing at the
ocean into which they empty themselves, and extending in a
north-western direction to the remotest parts of these wild regions,
which have never yet been pressed by other footsteps than those of the
native hunters of the soil. First we have the magnificent St. Lawrence,
fed from the lesser and tributary streams, rolling her sweet and silver
waters into the foggy seas of the Newfoundland.--But perhaps it will
better tend to impress our readers with a panoramic