“They did.  It was on the fourth of July, 1763.  The fort contained a hundred soldiers under the command of Major Etherington.  In the neighborhood were four hundred Indians apparently friendly.  On the day specified the savages played a great game of ball or baggatiway on the parade before the fort.  Many of the soldiers went out to witness it and the gate was left open.  During the game the ball was many times pitched over the pickets of the fort.  Instantly it was followed by the whole body of players, in the unrestrained pursuit of a rude athletic exercise.  The garrison feared nothing; but suddenly the Indians drawing their concealed weapons began the massacre.  No resistance was offered, so sudden and unexpected was the surprise.  Seventy of the soldiers were murdered, the remainder were sold for slaves.  Only one Englishman escaped.  He was a trader named Henry.  He was in his own house writing a letter to his Montreal friends by the canoe which was just on the eve of departure, when the massacre began.  Only a low board fence separated his grounds from those of M. Longlade, a Frenchman, who had great influence with the savages.  He obtained entrance into the house, where he was concealed by one of the women, and though the savages made vigorous search for him, he remained undiscovered.  You can imagine the horrible sight the fort presented when the sun went down, the soldiers in their red uniforms lying there scalped and mangled, a ghastly heap under the summer sky.  And to just think it was only a short time ago, a little more than a hundred years.”

We could hardly realize it as we gazed up the rocky eminence at the United States fort, one hundred and fifty feet high, overlooking the little village.  And yet Mackinaw’s history is very little different from that of most Western settlements and military Stations.  Dark, sanguinary, and bloody tragedies were constantly enacted upon the frontiers for generations.  As every one acquainted with our history must know, the war on the border has been an almost interminable one.  As the tide of emigration has rolled westward it has ever met that fiery counter-surge, and only overcome it by incessant battling and effort.  And even now, as the distant shores of the Pacific are wellnigh reached, that resisting wave still gives forth its lurid flashes of conflict.

Mackinaw Island is only about three miles long and two in breadth, with a circuit of nine miles in all.  It rises out of the lake to an average height of three hundred feet, and is heavily wooded with cedar, beech, maple, and yew.  Three of its sides are bold and rocky, the fourth slopes down gradually toward the north to meet the blue waters of the lake.  The island is intersected in all directions with carriage-roads and paths, and in the bay are always to be seen the row and sail boats belonging to pleasure-seekers.  From four to seven steamers call at the wharf daily, while fleets of sailing-vessels may at any time be descried from old Fort Holmes, creeping noiselessly on to the commercial marts of those great inland seas.