depots themselves, of course became prize to the conquerors. Pittsburg, with the smaller forts, Ligonier, Bedford, and others in that neighborhood, were closely beset, but successfully defended, until the arrival of large reinforcements. The savages made amends for these failures by a series of the most horrible devastations in detail, particularly in New York, Pennsylvania, and even in Northern Virginia, which have ever been committed upon the continent.

In case of most, if not all of the nine surprisals first mentioned, quite as much was effected by stratagem as by force, and that apparently by a preconcerted system which indicates the far-seeing superintendence of Pontiac himself. Generally, the commanders were secured in the first instance, by parties admitted within the forts under the pretence of business or friendship. At Maumee, or the Miamies, (as the station among that tribe was commonly designated,) the officer was betrayed by a squaw, who by piteous entreaties persuaded him to go out with her some two hundred yards, to the succor, as she said, of a wounded man who was dying; the Indians waylaid and shot him.

A more subtle policy was adopted at Michilimackinac, and surer means were taken to effect it. That fort, standing on the south side of the strait, between Lakes Huron and Michigan, was one of the most important positions on the frontier. It was the place of deposit, and the point of departure, between the upper and lower countries; the traders always assembling there, on their voyages to and from Montreal. Connected with it, was an area of two acres, enclosed with cedar-wood pickets, and extending on one side so near to the water's edge, that a western wind always drove the waves against the foot of the stockade. There were about thirty houses within the limits, inhabited by about the same number of families. The only ordnance on the bastions were two small brass pieces. The garrison numbered between ninety and one hundred.

The capture of this indispensable station was entrusted to the Chippewas, assisted by the Sacs, and those two tribes in concert adopted the following plan. The king's birth-day having arrived, a game of baggatiway was proposed by the Indians. This is played with a bat and ball; the former being about four feet long, curved, and terminating in a sort of racket. Two posts are placed in the ground, at the distance of half a mile or a mile from each other. Each party has its post, and the game consists in throwing up to the adversary's post the ball which at the beginning is placed in the middle of the course.

The policy of this expedient for surprising the garrison will clearly appear, when it is understood, that the game is necessarily attended with much violence and noise; that, in the ardor of contest the ball, if it cannot be thrown to the goal desired, is struck in any direction by which it can be diverted from that desired by the adversary; that, at such a moment, nothing could be less likely to excite premature alarm among the spectators of the amusement, than that the ball should be tossed over the pickets of the fort; or that having fallen there, it should be instantly followed by all engaged in the game, struggling and shouting, in the unrestrained pursuit of a rude athletic exercise.

Such was precisely the artifice employed; and to be still more sure of success, the Indians had persuaded as many as they could of the garrison and settlers, to come voluntarily without the pickets, for the purpose of witnessing the game, which was said to be played for a high wager. Not fewer than four hundred were engaged on both sides, and consequently, possession of the fort being once gained, the situation of the English must be desperate indeed. The particulars of the sequel of this horrid transaction, furnished by Henry, are too interesting to be wholly omitted.

The match commenced with great animation, without the fort. Henry, however, did not go to witness it, being engaged in writing letters to his Montreal friends, by a canoe which was just upon the eve of departure. He had been thus occupied something like half an hour, when he suddenly heard a loud Indian war-cry, and a noise of general confusion. Going instantly to his window, he saw a crowd of Indians within the fort, furiously cutting down and scalping every Englishman they found; and he could plainly witness the last struggles of some of his particular acquaintances.

He had, in the room where he was, a fowling-piece loaded with swan-shot. This he immediately seized, and held it for a few minutes, expecting to hear the fort-drum beat to arms. In this dreadful interval, he saw several of his countrymen fall, and more than one struggling between the knees of the savages, who, holding them in this manner, scalped them while yet alive. At length, disappointed in the hope of seeing any resistance made on the part of the garrison, and sensible, of course, that no effort of his single arm could avail against four hundred Indians, he turned his attention to his own safety. Seeing several of the Canadian villagers looking out composedly upon the scene of blood-neither opposing the Indians nor molested by them— he conceived a hope of finding security in one of their houses.

He immediately climbed over a low fence, which was the only separation between the yard-door of his house and that of his next neighbor, Monsieur Langlade. He entered the house of the latter precipitately, and found the whole family gazing at the horrid spectacle before them. He addressed himself to M. Langlade, and begged that he would put him in some place of safety, until the heat of the affair should be over-an act of charity which might preserve him from the general massacre. Langlade looked for a moment at him while he spoke, and then turned again to the window, shrugging his shoulders, and intimating that he could do nothing for him--"Que voudriez-vous que J'en ferais?"

Henry was now ready to despair; but at this moment, a Pani woman,* a slave of M. Langlade, beckoned to him to follow her. She guided him to a door, which she opened, desiring him to enter, and telling him that it led to the garret, where he must go and conceal himself. He joyfully obeyed her directions; and she, having followed

*Said to belong to an Indian nation of the south-no doubt the same now generally called Pawnees.

him up to the garret-door, locked it after him, and with great presence of nind took away the key. Scarcely yet lodged in this shelter, such as it was, Henry felt an eager anxiety to know what was passing without. His desire was more than satisfied by his finding an aperture in the loose board walls of the house, which afforded him a full view of the area of the fort. Here he beheld with horror, in shapes the foulest and most terrible, the ferocious triumphs of the savages. The dead were scalped and mangled; the dying were writhing and shrieking under the unsatiated knife and the reeking tomahawk; and from the bodies of some, ripped open, their butchers were drinking the blood scooped up in the hollow of joined hands, and quaffed amid shouts of rage and victory. In a few minutes, which to Henry seemed scarcely one, every victim who could be found being destroyed, there was a general cry of "all is finished"-and at this moment Henry heard some of the savages enter Langlade's house. He trembled and grew faint with fear.

As the flooring of his room and the ceiling of the room beneath consisted only of a layer of boards, he noticed every thing that passed; and he heard the Indians inquire, at their entrance, whether there was any Englishman about. M. Langlade replied, that "He could not sayhe did not know of any"-as in fact he did not "they could search for themselves (he added) and would soon be satisfied." The state of Henry's mind may be imagined, when, immediately upon this reply, the Indians were brought to the garret door. Luckily some delay was occasioned through the management of the Pani woman-perhaps by the absence of the key. Henry had sufficient presence of mind to improve these few moments in looking for a hiding place. This he found in the corner of the garret, among a heap of such birch bark vessels as are used in making maple-sugar; and he had not completely concealed himself, when the door opened, and four Indians entered, all armed with tomahawks, and all besmeared with blood from head to foot.

The die appeared to be cast. Henry could scarcely breathe, and he thought that the throbbing of his heart occasioned a noise loud enough to betray him. The Indians walked about the garret in every direction; and one of them approached him so closely that, at a particular moment, had he put forth his hand, he must have touched him. Favored, however, by the dark color of his clothes, and the want of light in a room which had no window, he still remained unseen. The Indians took several turns about the room-entertaining M. Langlade all the while with a minute account of the proceedings of the day-and at last returned down stairs.

Such is the traveller's account of the fall of Michilimackinac. The fate of Detroit remains to be told, a more important position than even Michilimackinac. An immense quantity of valuable goods,-one account says, to the amount of five hundred thousand pounds,-was known to be there stored. What was of more moment, its capture would release the French inhabitants of the strait from their temporary allegiance to the English, and would consequently unite the hitherto

separate lines of operation pursued by the Indian tribes above and below. Under these circumstances, its reduction was in person undertaken by Pontiac.

The town is supposed at this period to have been enclosed by a single row of pickets, forming nearly four sides of a square; there being block-houses at the corners and over the gates. An open space intervened between the houses and the pickets, which formed a place of arms and encircled the village. The fortifications did not extend to the river, but a gate opened in the direction of the stream, and not far from it, where, at the date in question, two armed vessels, fortunately for the inhabitants, happened to lie at anchor. The ordnance of the fort consisted of two six-pounders, one three-pounder, and three mortars; all of an indifferent quality. The garrison numbered one hundred and thirty, including officers, besides whom there were in the village something like forty individuals who were habitually engaged in the fur-trade. The inadequate proportion of this force, even to the size of the place, may be inferred from the fact, that the stockade which formed its periphery was more than one thousand feet long.

Such was the situation of Detroit, when the Ottawa chieftain, having completed his arrangements, on the 8th of May presented himself at the gates of the town, with a force of about three hundred Indians, chiefly Ottawas and Chippewas, and requested a council with Major Gladwyn, the Commandant. He expected, under this pretext, to gain admission for himself and a considerable number of attendants, who accordingly were provided with rifles, sawed off so short as to be concealed under their blankets. At a given signal,--which was to be the presentation of a wampum-belt in a particular manner by Pontiac to the commandant, during the conference, the armed Indians were to massacre all the officers; and then, opening the gates, to admit a much larger body of warriors, who should be waiting without, for the completion of the slaughter and the destruction of the fort.

Fortunately, Major Gladwyn obtained a knowledge of the scheme, before an opportunity occurred for its execution. One of the French residents in the vicinity, returning home on the morning of the day last mentioned, is said to have met Pontiac and his party upon Bloody Bridge. This place, which still retains its name, is between one and two miles from the village. The last warrior in the file, being a particular friend of the white man, threw aside his blanket, and significantly exhibited the shortened rifle beneath. Whether his disclosure was communicated to Major Gladwyn, cannot be determined.

Carver states, and his account is substantially confirmed by tradition, as well as by other authorities,-that an Indian woman betrayed the secret. She had been employed by the commandant to make him a pair of moccasins out of elk-skin; and having completed them, she brought them into the fort, on the evening of the day when Pontiac made his appearance, and his application for a council. The major was pleased with them, directed her to convert the residue of the skin into articles of the same description, and having made a generous payment, dismissed her. She went to the outer door, but there she

stopped, and for some time loitered about as if her errand was still unperformed. A servant asked her what she wanted, but she made no answer. The major himself observed her, and ordered her to be called in, when, after some hesitation, she replied to his inquiries, that as he had always treated her kindly, she did not like to take away the elkskin, which he valued so highly--she could never bring it back. The commandant's curiosity was of course excited, and he pressed the examination, until the woman at length disclosed every thing which had come to her knowledge.

Her information was not received with implicit credulity, but the major thought it prudent to employ the night in taking active measures for defence. His arms and ammunition were examined and arranged, and the traders and their dependants, as well as the garrison, were directed to be ready for instant service. A guard kept watch on the ramparts during the night, it being apprehended that the Indians might anticipate the preparations now known to have been made for the next day. Nothing, however, was heard after dark, except the sound of singing and dancing, in the Indian camp, which they always indulge in upon the eve of any great enterprise. The particulars of the council of the next day, we shall furnish on the authority of a writer already cited.

In the morning, Pontiac and his warriors sang their war-song, danced their war-dance, and repaired to the fort. They were admitted without hesitation, and were conducted to the council house, where Major Gladwyn and his officers were prepared to receive them. They perceived at the gate, and as they passed through the streets, an unusual activity and movement among the troops. The garrison was under arms, the guards were doubled, and the officers were armed with swords and pistols. Pontiac enquired of the British commander, what was the cause of this unusual appearance. He was answered, that it was proper to keep the young men to their duty, lest they should become idle and ignorant. The business of the council then commenced, and Pontiac proceeded to address Major Gladwyn. His speech was bold and menacing, and his manner and gesticulations vehement, and they became still more so, as he approached the critical anoment. When he was upon the point of presenting the belt to Major Gladwyn, and all was breathless expectation, the drums at the door of the council house suddenly rolled the charge, the guards levelled their pieces, and the British officers drew their swords from their scabbards. Pontiac was a brave man, constitutionally and habitually. He had fought in many a battle, and often led his warriors to victory. But this unexpected and decisive proof, that his treachery was discovered and prevented, entirely disconcerted him. Tradition says he trembled. At all events, he delivered his belt in the usual manner, and thus failed to give his party the concerted signal of attack. Major Gladwyn immediately approached the chief, and drawing aside his blanket, discovered the shortened rifle, and then, after stating his knowledge of the plan, and reproaching him for his treachery, ordered him from the fort. The Indians immediately retired, and as soon as they had passed the gate, they gave the yell, and fired upon the garrison. They then