Overlooking the legendary Hulda’s Rock (the origin location of the island’s most famous legend) the amphitheater provides an ideal location for concerts, intimate weddings and special gatherings for up to 150 guests.  Enjoy beautiful unobstructed sunset views from the waters edge.


Hulda’s Rock – The Legend

Plunging to her death in sorrow over her English husband’s broken vow to return to her, it is said that Hulda’s name is chanted for eternity in the waves that foam and surge around the rock that she jumped from. Time and the ravages of ice and water have decreased the rock to a fraction of it’s original size, which can be found on the northwest shore of Pelee Island at Sheridan Point. Below is a poem written in the 19th century by Bertha Smith (the daughter of Thaddeus Smith - one of the founders of Vin Villa). The poem beautifully depicts the legend of Hulda.

Once there lived on Point au Pelee

An Indian maiden blithe and gay,

Who often from her birch canoe

Would spear the spotted salmon through.

Pride of her Chieftain father’s heart,

She oft would through the wild woods dart,

And with her bow and arrow raised

Would pierce the deer that calmly grazed.

Joy of her mother’s loving eyes

This dusky maid was a household prize

Whose beauty, grace and gentle arts

Won her a place in manly hearts.

A pale face to the Island came

To catch the fish and kill the game,

And when this lovely maid he knew,

She won his heart – she loved him too.

“Be mine, dear maiden,” then he cried,

“Let me but win thee for my bride,

And on this IsIe I’ll gladly stay” –

The maiden did not say him nay.

Happy they lived from year to year,

Then tiding came of a mother dear,

Who dying, lay on a distant shore

And longed to see her son once more.

Then with the pledge to come again

Before another moon should wane,

The pale face parted fro his bride

And o’er the waves his oars he plied.

But many moons did wax and wane,

The young wife’s heart grew sick with pain,

And all her life grew dark and chill –

Her recreant husband tarried still.

At length a boat approached the shore,

Her heart beat high with hope once more –

But ah! For her that small white yawl

Bore a brief letter – that was all.

A letter that brought a withering blight

And broke a faithful heart that night;

That told a tale of broken trust

And hurled bright hopes down in the dust.

Hark! Hark, a wail of dark despair

Floats out upon the midnight air;

A splash is heard, and Pelee’s pride

Floats out upon blue Erie’s tide.

Upon the north of Pelee Isle,

There stranger liner but awhile;

View “Hulda’s rock” – the mariner’s guide,

That marks the fate of the Indian bride.

It marks that death-leap into the sea,

And marks a white man’s perfidy.

The waves that gainst it foam and surge

Seem chanting e’er a funeral dirge.

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