The prisoner, by all the testimony, was in his nature kind. He had loved his wife excessively, and loved her, strange as it may seem, unto the last. And for that very love he was the more cruel, and the greater monster. He was jealous of her fidelity, without cause. Jealousy! “’tis a monster begot upon itself—born on itself.” “That’s he—that was Othello!” And only when intoxicated with strong drink did this terrible passion gain its dominion over him. In the moments of his sobriety, he loved and confided, and could say in company of his wife,
“My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to thee,
Succeeds in unknown fate.”
But it would seem, that hell itself were scarcely more furious, or more terrible, than he, when the demon of ardent spirits assumed control of his passions. If demoniacs were now-a-days about, the name of that man, in such predicament and mood, were worthy to be written, as prince of the host. But in prison, and before the tribunal of justice, this wretched being, once kind in nature, and made a fiend by the abuse of his nature, stood dispossessed, the guilty and conscious murderer of her, whom he espoused in her youth and loveliness, and who was ever worthy of his love;—and whom he took to his bosom, and promised, by the light and love of heaven, to be her husband and protector.
He was executed on the 24th of September.
CHAPTER VIII.
EMBARKATION FROM DETROIT, &c.
On the 4th of August the steam-packet, Sheldon Thomson, left Detroit for the Upper Lakes, her ultimate destination being Green Bay, with the United States’ Commissioners, bound on the errand heretofore alluded to, and which we shall notice again by-and-by;—three companies of troops for the frontier garrisons;—several parties of ladies and gentlemen; some in pursuit of pleasure, some of materials for science and literature; some of business; some families returning, or emigrating to those new and remote settlements;—with pigs, poultry, &c. &c. As near as we recollect, the number of souls on board, including troops, commissioners and suite, ladies and gentlemen, and the crew—was not far from two hundred and fifty.
The rarity of this expedition gave it some importance. The character of the company, but especially the objects of the mission from Government to the Indians of the North-West, magnified the interest not inconsiderably. It is true there is some sailing craft habitually employed in this line of navigation. It is also true, that one of the steam-packets of Lake Erie, ordinarily makes a trip into those remote regions, some two or three times in a season; as encouragements offer. But Detroit is reckoned the common limit of the crowd, who flock to the west in the summer; and a trip beyond is quite notable, and esteemed a great treat with the curious, and with all who have a taste for novel, wild, and romantic scenery; or an ambition to see that which is seldom seen by the common herd of travellers. It is confessed, that an expedition to the North Pole, is somewhat more important to the persons concerned;—and if they have the good luck to get back again, it may be more important to the world. If Captain Symmes had lived to accomplish his expedition to the centre of the earth, that would at least have been more interesting. It is possible, it may not yet be understood, all the world over, that the earth is hollow, and to be entered by a passage towards the imaginary poles; the polar points being themselves of course in the celestial regions, and therefore unattainable to man. This important discovery was made by the above-named Captain Symmes, of Ohio, United States.
It is not pretended, that the particular expedition, which makes the subject of our story, can claim a paramount importance, with either of those just alluded to. But still it attracted considerable attention. All the newspapers of the country—at least very extensively—announced it long beforehand;—that is—the proprietors of the steam-packet took care to put it in circulation, for the greater profit of the voyage, by attracting the attention of the curious, and offering motive to the enterprising. It was by this sort of newspaper puffing, that the author was drawn into the train; as was the fact with a great portion of the company.
On the morning of the 4th of August, the city of Detroit was in no little bustle, and the wharf, along-side of which lay the Sheldon Thomson, with her signals snapping in the wind, exhibited a most busy swarm of human beings, running to and fro, in the way of preparation. At eleven o’clock A. M. the gun was fired, and the packet bore away for Lake St. Clair, under all the force of wind and steam, and with as fine a day, as the sun ever made upon the earth. Indeed the scene and the occasion were quite inspiriting; and the objects in view wore the aspect of many powerful and romantic attractions. The beautiful city of Detroit began to recede, while the packet, borne along between the Canadian shore and Hog Island, (a name, it must be confessed, ill deserved by a thing so beautiful) glided in fine style into the opening expanse of Lake St. Clair.
Lake St. Clair, as before recognized, is an expansion of the strait, nearly in a circular form, with a diameter of thirty miles; and in consequence of the depression of all its shores, and there being no hills in the immediate interior, the position of a vessel in any part of its border, opens from the deck a shoreless sea in the distant prospect. The centre of the lake presents a beautiful and enchanting looming up of the shores, as the sailors call it, in all directions; and the marginal forests, broken every here and there, by the indentations of the coast, seem to hang suspended in the horizon, between the sea and the heavens, and play and dance before the eye, in a sort of fairy vision. The images of this kind, fore and aft, and on either side, were continually changing their forms, and showing the most fantastic shapes, as the vessel wended her serpentine course, by the channel through the lake, from its southern to its northern border. For Lake St. Clair is an exception to all the others, in this particular: that its waters are generally shallow, except in the channel; and that channel is perpetually changing by the effect of storms, and requires a frequent survey for the direction of the pilot. Indeed this body of water is hardly worthy to be dignified with the name of a Lake, in comparison of the others, and might as well be considered, as a flooding of low lands—which seems to be the exact truth. The main current of water through it, however, always maintains a channel, sufficient for all the purposes of navigation, though it is somewhat devious.