As we have seen, it was a part of Pontiac's plan that each tribe should attack the fort or English settlement nearest to them. For this reason, and because it was the largest and best fortified place, he took personal command at the siege of Detroit.
This settlement was founded by La Motte Cadillac in 1701, and contained at this time, according to Major Rogers, about twenty-five hundred people. The center of the settlement was the fortified town or fort, which stood on the western margin of the river, and contained about a hundred houses, compactly built, and surrounded by a palisade twenty-five feet high, with a bastion at each corner, and block-houses over the gates.
The garrison of the fort consisted of one hundred and twenty English soldiers, under the command of Major Gladwyn. There were also forty fur traders, and the ordinary Canadian inhabitants of the place, who could not be trusted in case of an Indian outbreak.
Two small armed schooners, the Beaver and the Gladwyn, lay anchored in the river, while the ordnance of the fort consisted of two six-pounders, one three-pounder and three mortars; all of an indifferent quality. The settlement outside the fort, stretching about eight miles along both sides of the Detroit river, consisted of the dwellings of Canadians, and three Indian villages, the Ottawas and Wyandots, on the east, and the Pottawatomies on the west side of the stream.
"Such was Detroit—a place whose defences could have opposed no resistance to a civilized enemy; and yet situated as it was at a strategic point on the bank of a broad navigable river far removed from the hope of speedy succor, it could only rely, in the terrible struggle that awaited it, upon its own slight strength and feeble resources," as Parkman well says.
On the afternoon of May 5 a Canadian woman, the wife of St. Aubin, one of the prominent settlers, crossed the river to the Ottawa village to buy some maple sugar and venison. She was surprised at finding several warriors engaged in filing off their gun-barrels, so as to reduce them, stock and all to the length of about a yard. Such a weapon could easily be hid under a blanket. That night the woman mentioned the circumstance to a neighbor, the village blacksmith. "Oh," said he, "that explains it." "Explains what?" "The reason why so many Indians have lately wanted to borrow my files and saws."
It is not known whether this circumstance reached the ears of the commander; if so, it received no attention at his hands. But, in the hour of impending doom, the love of an Indian maiden interposed to save the garrison from butchery.
In the Pottawatomie village, it is said, there lived an Ojibway girl, who could boast a larger share of beauty than is common to the wigwam. She had attracted the eye of Gladwyn, who had taken great interest in her, and as she was very bright, had given her some instruction. While she, on her part, had become much attached to the handsome young officer. On the afternoon of May 6, Catharine—for so the officers called her—came to the fort and repaired to Gladwyn's quarters, bringing with her a pair of elk skin moccasins, ornamented with beads and porcupine work, which he had requested her to make. But this time the girl's eyes no longer sparkled with pleasure and excitement. Her face was anxious, and her look furtive. She said little and soon left the room; but the sentinel at the door saw her still lingering at the street corner, though the hour for closing the gates was nearly come.
At length she attracted the attention of Gladwyn himself. The major at once saw that the girl knew something which she feared yet longed to tell. Calling her to him, he sought to win her secret, but it was not for a long while, and under solemn promises that she should not be betrayed, but rather protected, should it become necessary, that the dusky sweetheart spoke. "To-morrow," she said, "Pontiac will come to the fort with sixty of his chiefs, and demand a council. Each will be armed with a gun cut short, and hidden under his blanket. When all are assembled in the council-house, and after he has delivered his speech, he will offer a peace belt of wampum, holding it in a reversed position. This will be the signal of attack. The chiefs will spring up and fire upon the officers, and the Indians in the street will fall upon the garrison. Every Englishman will be killed, but not the scalp of a single Frenchman will be touched."
Gladwyn believed the maid, and the words of warning spoken, she went back to her people. The guards that night were doubled. At times the watchers on the walls heard unwonted sounds, borne to them on the night wind from the distant Indian villages. They were the steady beat of the Indian drum and the shrill choruses of the war-dance.