Cornell University Library 
 E 87.J49S44 1898 
 
 Narrative of the life of Mary Jemison 
 
 3 1924 028 675 647 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 1 89 1 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
Date Due 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028675647 
 
LIFE OF MARY JEMISON 
 
 DEH-HE-WA-MIS 
 THE WHITE WOMAN OF THE GENESEE 
 
MART JBMISON BEING AKRAYED IN THE COST0ME OF A SENECA 
 
 INDIAN MAIDEN. (See page 56.) 
 
A NARRATIVE OF THE 
 
 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON 
 
 DE-HE-WA-MIS 
 THE WHITE WOMAN OF THE GENESEE 
 
 BY 
 JAMES E. SEAVER 
 
 SIXTH EDITION 
 
 With Geographical and Explanatory Notes and Appendix. 
 This edition also includes numerous illustrations, further 
 particulars of the history of De-he-wa-mis, and other in- 
 teresting matter collected and arranged by Wm. Pryor 
 Letchworth. 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK & LONDON 
 
 Zbe Iftiiicfterbocfier ©tees 
 
 1898 
 
 « 
 
 (.('I; KM i I 
 
A' 1 ^^2(o[ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877 
 
 By WM. p. LETCHWORTH 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington 
 
 Copyright, 1898 
 
 BY 
 
 WM. PRYOR LETCHWORTH 
 
 Ube Knicliecbsctier Iptess, mew isocft 
 
 Yi ir.^i'.-iViKiii 
 
PEEFACE. 
 » 
 
 Neither in the wildest tales of fictioii nor in the 
 pages of romance may we find a picture of human 
 trials and sufferings that appeals more strongly to 
 our sympathies than the simple narrative of Mary 
 Jemison, taken from her own lips by James E. Seaver 
 after her long captivity among the Indians. Born on 
 the waves of the Atlantic, made an orphan at an 
 early age by the murder of her parents, carried a 
 lonely captive into the depths of the American forest, 
 eventually allied to the Indian race in the relation of 
 wife and mother, — these, with other strange events 
 in her life, make up a history so extraordinary as to 
 seem unreal. 
 
 The first edition of the life of Mary Jemison was 
 published at Canandaigua, N. T., in 1824. In 1842 
 William Seaver & Son, brother and nephew of James 
 E. Seaver, the author, then deceased, republished the 
 work at Batavia, N. Y. In view of their family rela- 
 tions to the author, the publishers felt at liberty to 
 make such corrections as seemed necessary, and to 
 rearrange certain chapters and parts of chapters, in 
 order to give a clearer and more connected view of 
 
8 PKEFACE. 
 
 the subject, while carefully preserving the facts em- 
 braced in the original narrative. They brought to 
 their aid in the work of revision the services of Eben- 
 ezer Mix, who was considered specially qualified for 
 such a task. 
 
 The present edition contains additional particulars 
 connected with the early life of Mary Jemison and in- 
 formation relating to her subsequent history. It in- 
 cludes a chapter by William C. Bryant, ex-President 
 of the Buffalo Historical Society ; another by Mrs. 
 Asher "Wright, widow of the late Reverend Asher 
 Wright ; a brief sketch of the old Jemison homestead 
 in Adams County, Pa. ; a description of the personal 
 appearance of the "White Woman" and of her final 
 resting place near the old Indian Council House on 
 the banks of the Genesee. 
 
 The editorial foot-notes contained in the present 
 edition were prepared for the fourth edition by Hon. 
 Lewis H. Morgan, the distinguished author of the 
 League of the Iroquois. 
 
 The various incidents of this narrative have been 
 corroborated by many different authorities. These 
 include the testimony of General Ely S. Parker (Do- 
 ne-ho-ga'-weh), a Seneca Sachem and member ol 
 General Grant's staff, who, on March 24, 1856, wrote 
 to D. M. Dewey as follows : 
 
PREFACE. 9 
 
 "Many years ago I perused Seaver's book with 
 great interest, and have since had good opportunity 
 of testing its reliability by comparing it with the tra- 
 ditional history preserved of her among the Indians 
 with whom she lived and died, all of which more than 
 corroborates every incident related in the narrative. 
 I have, therefore, every reason to believe it to be en- 
 tirely true." 
 
 The fact that this biography is out of print, and 
 that much interesting matter is now added to it, is 
 deemed sufficient apology for presenting this edition 
 to the public. 
 
 Wm. Pryor Letchworth. 
 
 Glen Iris, Portage P. 0., N. Y. 
 May 1, 1898. 
 
INTEODUOTION 
 
 TO 
 
 FIRST EDITION AS SEVISED BY WILLIAM SEAVER 
 & SON IN 1843. 
 
 Thb peace which was concluded between the United 
 States and Great Britain in 1783 led to a treaty of peace 
 and amnesty between the United States and the Indian 
 confederacv called the Six Nations, which took nlaee at 
 Fort Stanwix, (now Eome, N. Y.,) in 1784, conducted by 
 commissioners on the part of the United States, and the 
 chiefs, warriors, and head men of the Six Nations, on 
 their part. 
 
 By this treaty, all the prisoners who had been taken 
 and were at tnat time retained by the Indians were to be 
 set at liberty. On this joyful event, those prisoners who 
 had escaped the tomahawk, the gauntlet, and tlie sacrifi- 
 cial fire, were released from bondage, and restored to their 
 friends, to society, and to the world. Althougn the num- 
 ber of prisoners thus released were few, in proportion to 
 the great number who had been taken, they were so 
 numerous tnat their return brought the legends of deeds 
 of torture and death to every section of the country. 
 
12 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 These horrid tales required not the aid of fiction, or the 
 persuasive powers of rhetoric, to highten their colorings, 
 or gain credence to their shocking truths. In those days, 
 Indian barbarities were the constant topic of the domestic 
 fireside, the parlor, the hall, and the forum. It is pre- 
 sumed that, at this time, there are but few native citizens 
 that have passed the middle age who do not distinctly re- 
 collect of hearing such frightful accounts of Indian bar- 
 barities, oft repeated, in the nursery and in the family 
 circle, until it almost caused their hair to stand erect, and 
 deprived them of the power of motion. 
 
 Time, however, has produced a confusion of incidents 
 in those tales, and enveloped the fidelity of their trans- 
 mission to us in clouds of doubt. To rescue from obliv- 
 ion, and preserve in their primitive purity, some of those 
 legends, and to exemplify and record, for the use of pos- 
 terity as well as for the present generation, a faithful 
 delineation of the characteristic traits of the Iroquois, is 
 the object of these memoirs. 
 
 At the same treaty, the Six Nations, or Iroquois, were 
 left in undisturbed possession of the greater portion of the 
 state of New York, and had the right of possession guar- 
 antied to them by the United States of all the territory 
 west of a line called the property line, running nearly paral- 
 lel with, and less than eighty miles west of the Hudson Riv- 
 er, two small tracts excepted. At this time, Mary Jemison 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 had been ■with the Indians twenty -nine years — seven had 
 transpired during the French war with the British, in 
 which the Six Nations raised the tomahawk against the 
 British and Americans ; and seven during the revolution- 
 ary war, in which the Indians arrayed themselves on the 
 side of the British against the Americans; there being 
 an interval of peace of fifteen years between — if peace it 
 could be called — when they were constantly sending war 
 parties against other Indian tribes, south and north, from 
 the torrid to the frigid zone, and west to the Eocky 
 Mountains. 
 
 During this time, Mrs. Jemison had been twice married 
 to Indian chiefs, and had a husband and seven children 
 then living. She, too, was nearly two hundred miles 
 from any white settlement, and knew not that she had a 
 white relative or friend on earth : she, therefore, resolved 
 not to accept of her freedom, but to spend the remainder 
 of her days with the Indians, where she knew she had 
 affectionate relatives and many kind friends. This reso- 
 lution she carried fully into effect, and became their faith- 
 ful and correct chronicler for more than three-fourths of a 
 century. 
 
 At this time, 1784, and for several years afterward, no 
 settlements of white people were made in the state west 
 of Cherry Valley, on the head waters of the Susquehanna, 
 and the German Flats, on the Mohawk, as those places 
 
14 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 were situated nearly as far west as the property line, the 
 boundary of the Indian lands. So fresh were the wounds 
 which the whites had received from their savage neigh- 
 bors, that the Indians were viewed with a jealous eye, 
 even when unmolested and unprovoked. Under these 
 circumstances, peaceable citizens were little inclined to 
 trespass on their lands, or give them the least pretext for 
 a quarrel, by even traveling into their country. No 
 white people, therefore, visited their villages, except 
 some half-savage traders, and a few of the refuse of soci- 
 ety, who, to escape the meshes of civil or criminal law, 
 bade adieu to civilized life, and took shelter in the re- 
 cesses of the forest, under the protection of its lords. 
 
 The Indian title to the lands surrounding Mrs. Jemi- 
 son's residence was not sold to the whites until the great 
 Council in 1797, when may be dated the first time of her 
 associating with moral, social, civilized man, from the 
 time of her childhood, after the lapse of forty-two years. 
 Still, she had retained her native language with great 
 purity ; and had treasured up, and constantly kept in her 
 own breast, all those moral and social virtues, by the 
 precepts of which civilized society professes to be guided, 
 and by their directions always to be governed. 
 
 At length, the richness and fertility of the soil excited 
 emigration ; and here and there a family settled down and 
 commenced improvements in the country which had 
 
IXTKODUCTIOX. 15 
 
 recently been the property of the aborigines. Those ^ho 
 settled near the Genesee Eiver soon became acquainted 
 \rith --The White 'V\'oman," as Mrs. Jemison ■vras called, 
 ■whose history they anxiously sought, both as a matter of 
 interest and curiosity. Frankness characterized her con- 
 duct, and ■without reserve she ■would readily gratify them 
 by relating some of the most important periods of her life. 
 
 Although her bosom companion was an ancient warrior, 
 and notwithstanding her children and associates were all 
 Indians, yet it was found that she possessed an uncom- 
 mon share of hospitality, and that her fiiendsbip was 
 well worth courting and preserring. Her house was the 
 stranger's home: from her table the hungry were re- 
 freshed; she made the naked as comfortable as her means 
 would admit ; and in all her actions, disco^vered so much 
 natural goodness of heart, that her admirers increased in 
 proportion to the extension of her acquaintance, and she 
 became celebrated as the friend of the distressed. She 
 was the protectress of the homeless fngitiYe, and made 
 welcome the weary wanderer. Many still Uve to com- 
 memorate her beneTolence toward them when prisoners 
 during the ■war, and to ascribe their deliverance to the 
 mediation of "The "White "Woman." 
 
 The settlements of civilized society increased around 
 her, and flie whole coimtry was inhabited by a rich and 
 respectable people, principally from Xew England, as 
 
16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 much distinguished for their spirit of inquisitiveness as 
 for their habits of industry and honesty, who had all 
 heard from one source and another a part of her life in 
 detached pieces, and had obtained an idea that the 
 whole taken in connection would afford instruction and 
 amusement. 
 
 Many gentlemen of respectability felt anxious that her 
 narrative might be laid before the public, with a view 
 not only to perpetuate the remembrance of the atrocities 
 of the savages in former times, but to preserve some 
 historical facts which they supposed to be intimately 
 connected with her life, and which otherwise must be lost. 
 
 Forty years had passed since the close of the Revolu- 
 tionary war, and almost seventy years had seen Mrs. 
 Jemison with the Indians, when Daniel W. Banister 
 Esq., at the instance of several gentlemen, and prompted 
 by his own ambition to add something to the accumu- 
 lating fund of useful knowledge, resolved, in the autumn 
 of 1823, to embrace that time, while she was capable of 
 recollecting and reciting the scenes through which she 
 had passed, to collect from herself, and to publish to the 
 world, an accurate account of her life. 
 
 I was employed to collect the materials, and prepare 
 the work for the press ; and accordingly went to the 
 house of Mrs. Jennet Whaley, in the town of Castile, 
 Genesee County, N. Y., in company with the publisher, 
 
INTKODUCTION. 17 
 
 who procured the interesting subject of the following 
 narrative to come to that place, (a distance of four miles,) 
 and there repeat the story of her eventful life. She 
 came on foot, in company with Mr. Thomas Clute, whom 
 she considered her protector, and tarried several days; 
 which time was busily occupied in taking a sketch of her 
 narrative as she recited it. 
 
 In stature, she is very short, considerably under the 
 middle size ; but stands tolerably erect, with her head 
 bent forward, apparently from her having for a long 
 time been accustomed to carrying heavy burdens, sup- 
 ported by a strap placed across her forehead. Her com- 
 plexion is very white for a woman of her age, and 
 although the wrinkles of fourscore years are deeply in- 
 dented in her cheeks, yet the crimson of youth is dis- 
 tinctly visible. Her eyes are light blue, a little faded 
 by age, but naturally brilliant and sparkling. Her sight 
 is quite dim, though she is able to perform her necessary 
 labor without the assistance of glasses. Her cheek-bones 
 are high, and rather prominent ; and her front teeth, in 
 the lower jaw, are sound and good. When she looks up, 
 and is engaged in conversation, her countenance is very 
 expressive ; but from her long residence with the Indians, 
 she has acquired the habit of peeping from under the 
 eyebrows, as they do, with the head inclined downward. 
 Formerly, her hair was of a light chestnut brown ; it is 
 
18 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 now quite gray, a little curled, of middling length, and 
 tied in a bunch behind. She informed me that she had 
 never worn a cap or a comb. 
 
 She speaks English plainly and distinctly, slightly 
 tinged with the Irish idiom, and has the use of words so 
 well as to render herself intelligible on any subject with 
 which she is acquainted. Her recollection and memory 
 exceeded my expectation. It can not be reasonably sup- 
 posed that a person of her age has kept the events of 
 seventy years in so complete a chain as to be able to 
 assign to each its proper time and place. She, however, 
 made her recital with as few obvious mistakes as might 
 be expected from a person of fifty. Indeed, in every case, 
 where she attempted to give dates, she was remarkably 
 correct, — so uniformly so that she coincided exactly with 
 history, except in one instance, which was the surrender 
 of Fort Du Quesne by the French to the English ; and 
 this is more to be attributed to her ignorance at the time 
 than to the treachery of her memory, for the fort was 
 always filled with English or Yankee traders, trappers, 
 hunters, and outlaws, as well as Frenchmen; and the 
 Ohio Indians knew little and cared less who commanded 
 the fort, so long as they could trade there to suit them- 
 selves. Under such circumstances, it is not remarkable 
 that a young woman, fifteen or sixteen years old, domes- 
 ticated among the Indians, and reisiding three or four 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 hundred miles from the fort, should not know the precise 
 time that the French flag was struck and the English 
 noisted in its stead ; which absolutely took place in 1758. 
 while she resided in that country. 
 
 She walks with a quick step, without a staff, and can 
 yet cross a stream on a log or pole as steadily as any 
 other person. Her passions are easily excited. At a 
 number of periods In her narration, tears trickled down 
 her grief-worn cheek, and at the same time a rising sigh 
 would stop her utterance. 
 
 Industry is a virtue which she has uniformly practiced 
 from the day of her adoption to the present. She pounds 
 her samp, cooks for herself, gathers and chops her wood, 
 feeds her cattle and poultry, and performs other laborious 
 services. Last season, she planted, tended, and gathered 
 her corn ; in short, she is always busy. 
 
 Her dress, at the time I saw her, was made and worn 
 after the usual Indian fashion. She had on a brown, un- 
 dressed flannel short-gown, with long sleeves, the skirt 
 reaching to the hips, being tied before in two places with 
 deer-skin strings ; below the skirt of the gown was to be 
 seen three or four inches of the lower extremity of a 
 cotton shirt, which was without collar or sleeves, and 
 open before. Her petticoat, or the Indian substitute for 
 that garment, was composed of about a yard and a 
 quarter of blue broadcloth, with the lists on, and sewed 
 
20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 together at the ends. This was tied around her waist, or 
 rather above her hips, under her shirt, with a string, in 
 such a manner as to leave one-fourth of a yard or more 
 of the top of the cloth to be turned over the string, and 
 display the top list, and four or five inches of the cloth 
 below the bottom of the shirt — the main body of the 
 garment and the other list reaching down to the calves 
 of her legs ; below which was to be seen her leggins, 
 consisting of pieces of blue broadcloth, wrapped around 
 her legs, and tied or pinned on, reaching from her knees 
 to just within the tops of her buckskin moccasins. She 
 wore no footings or socks on her feet at any season, un- 
 less some rags wi'apped around her toes could be con- 
 sidered such. Over her shoulders was wrapped a common 
 Indian or Dutch blanket, and on her head she wore an 
 old, brown woolen cloth, somewhat in the shape of a 
 sun-bonnet. 
 
 Thus attired — and it will be recollected that she was 
 not caught in her dishabille, as she had come from home, 
 the distance of four miles, for the express purpose of 
 meeting us — thus attired, I say, we met the owner of 
 two square miles of very fertile and productive land, ly- 
 ing in the midst of a dense population, and near an ex- 
 cellent market — with an annuity of three hundred dollars 
 a year, secured to her, her heirs, and assigns forever. 
 Yet such was the dress this woman was not only contented 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 to wear but delighted in wearing. Habit having rendered 
 it convenient and comfortable, she wore it as a matter 
 of choice. 
 
 Her house, in which she lives, is twenty by twenty 
 eight feet ; built of square timber, with a shingled roof 
 and a framed stoop. In the center of the house is a 
 chimney of stones and sticks, in which there are two fire- 
 places. She has a good, framed barn, twenty-six by 
 thirty-six, well filled, and owns a fine stock of cattle and 
 horses. Besides the buildings above mentioned, she owns 
 a number of buildings occupied by tenants, who work her 
 flats upon shares. 
 
 Her dwelling is on the west side of Genesee Eiver, 
 about one hundred rods north of the Great Slide — a 
 curiosity which will hereafter be described. 
 
 Mrs. Jemison appeared sensible of her ignorance of the 
 manners of the white people, and for that reason was not 
 familiar, except with those with whom she was intimately 
 acquainted. In fact, she was, to appearance, so jealous 
 of her rights, or afraid that she should say something that 
 would be injurious to herself or family, that if Mr. Olute 
 had not been present, we should have been unable to have 
 obtained her history. She, however, soon became free 
 and unembarrassed in her conversation, and spoke with a 
 degree of mildness, candor, and simplicity, that is calcu- 
 lated to remove all doubts as to the veracity of the 
 
■^2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 speaker. The vices of the Indians she appeared to palli- 
 ate, or at least not to aggravate, and seemed to take pride 
 in extolling their virtues. A kind of family pride inclined 
 her to withhold whatever would blot the character of her 
 descendants, and perhaps induced her to keep back many 
 things that would have been interesting. 
 
 For the life of her last husband we are indebted to her 
 cousin, Mr. George Jemison, to whom she referred us for 
 information on that subject generally. The thoughts of 
 his deeds, probably, chilled her old heart, and made her 
 dread to rehearse them ; and at the same time she well 
 knew they were no secret, for she had frequently heard 
 him relate the whole, not only to her cousin but to others. 
 
 Before she left us, she was very sociable, and she re- 
 sumed her naturally pleasant countenance, enlivened with 
 a smile. 
 
 Her neighbors speak of her as possessing one of the 
 happiest tempers and dispositions, and give Her the name 
 of never having done a censurable act to their knowledge. 
 
 Her habits are those of the Indians — she sleeps on 
 skins without a bedstead; sits upon the floor, or on a 
 bench ; and when she eats, holds her victuals on her lap, 
 or in her hands. 
 
 Her ideas of religion correspond in every respect with 
 those of the great mass of the Senecas. She applauds 
 virtue, and condemns vice. She believes in a future state. 
 
INTHODUCTION. 23 
 
 in wMcli the good will be happy, and the bad miserable ; 
 and that the acquisition of that happiness depends prima- 
 rily upon human volition, and the consequent good deeds 
 of the happy recipient of blessedness. But she is a stran- 
 ger to the doctrines of the Christian religion. 
 
 Her daughters are said to be active and enterprising 
 women ; and her grandsons, who have arrived to manhood, 
 are considered able, decent, and respectable men, in their 
 tribe. 
 
 Having in a cursory manner introduced the principal 
 subject of the following pages, I proceed to the narration 
 of a life that has been viewed with attention, for a great 
 number of years, by a few, and which will be read by the 
 public with mixed sensations of pleasure and pain, joy 
 and sorrow, and with interest, anxiety, and satisfaction. 
 
VOWEL SOUNDS. 
 
 a as m arm. 
 
 a as in at. 
 
 a as in ale. 
 
 e as in met. 
 
 o as in tone. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 OHAPTEB, I. 
 
 Parentage of Mary Jemison — Born on the sea — Lands, witfi her 
 parents, in Philadelphia, in 1743 — Settles on Marsh creelj, in 
 Western PonnsylTania — Indian alarms — Her childhood and 
 education, 83 
 
 OHAPTEE II. 
 
 Fancied omen — Inroad of a baud of Shawnees — Whole family taken 
 captive in 1755 — Marched into the wilderness — Her mother's 
 farewell address — Murder of her father, mother, two brothers, 
 and sister — Preparation of scalps — Indian caution, to prevent 
 pursuit — Arrival at Fort Du Quesne, 40 
 
 OHAPTEE III. 
 
 Mai'y is given to two Seneca women — They descend the Ohio — 
 Arrival at She-nan-jee — She is dressed in Indian costume — 
 Adopted as a Seneca — Ceremony of Adoption — Is named Deh- 
 he-wa-mis — Nearly regains her liberty — Kemoval to Wi-ish-to — 
 She is married to She-nm-jee, a Delaware — Birth and death of a 
 child — Birth of another child, 52 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Visits Port Pitt — Desire for liberty subsides — Labors of the Indian 
 females — Removal fromWi-ish-to to the Genesee — Meet Shawnees 
 who had murdered two white men, and were torturing a third — 
 He ia rescued by Mary — Arrive at Little Beard's Town, . . .69 
 
26 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Geographical namea — Dialects of tlie Iroquois — Little Beard's Town - 
 The Genesee Valley — Laud slide — Gardcau Flats — Subsequently 
 Mary Jemison Kesorvation — Mount Morris — Big Tree Village — 
 Caneadea iil 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Indians march to fight the British — Return with cattle and prison- 
 ers — Two prisoners burned — An Indian woman's eloquence — 
 Tragedy of the " Devil's Hole " — Death of She-nan-jee — Attempt 
 to take Mary to Niagara by force — She marries Hi-ok-a-too — Her 
 cnildren — Loss of a daughter, 98 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Peace among the Indians — Their happy state — Troubles between Kng- 
 laud and the Colonies — Treaty with the Colonies — Iroquois agree 
 to remain neutral — Treaty with the British — Join them against 
 the Americans — Bounty for scalps — Four female piisoners — 
 Battle of Fort Stanwix — Indian loss — Butler and Brandt, • 108 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Approach of General Sullivan's army — A skirmish — Two Oneida 
 Indians taken — One sacrificed — Lieutenants Boyd and Parker 
 cap tiued — Boyd's barbarous execution — Parker's death — Senecas 
 retreat to the woods — Sullivan's army lays waste the country — 
 Army retires — Senecaa return, but to disperse — Mary goes to 
 Gardeau Flats — Expedition to the Mohawk — Cornplanter and John 
 O'Bail — Ebenezer Allen 118 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Mary is ofiered her freedom — She dechues accepting — Her reasons 
 
 Her favorite Indian brother dies — Great council at Big Tree, in 
 11-91 — Gardeau reservation given to Mary by the chiefs — Con- 
 tained 1*7, 927 acres of land — Traditions of the Senecas The 
 
 Great Serpent at Niin-de-wa-o, 130 
 
CONTENTS. 27 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Little Beard's death — Singular euperstition — Family government — 
 Her sons Thomas and John quarrel — John murders Thomas — 
 John is tried and acquitted by the chiefs — Thomas' character — 
 His wife and children — Death of Hi-ok-a-too — His age and 
 funeral — Hia character, 139 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Mary's family troubles continue — John's enmity toward bis brother 
 Jesse — They quarrel — Whisky the cause — John murders 
 Jesse — Jesse's foneral and character, 152 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Mary's pretended cousin, George Jemison — His poverty — Her kind- 
 ness and assistance — His ingratitude — Attempt to defraud her of 
 a part of her reservation — Is expelled from the premises, . 158 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 John Jemison murdered — Hia funeral, life, and character — His widow 
 and children — His murderers flee — Tall Chief's speech — They 
 return — Their fate, 164 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Mary sella part of her reservation — The hardships of her life — Great 
 strength of constitution — Her temperance — Destructive effects 
 of ardent spirits among the Senecas — Witchcraft — Accusations 
 against her — Executions for witchcraft — Her descendants, . 176 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Life of Hi-ok-a-too, half-brother of Farmer's Brother — Naturally cru- 
 el — Inroad upon the Catawbaa in Tennessee — Present at Brad- 
 dock's defeat — Battle of Fort Freeland — Expedition to Cherry 
 Valley — His barbarity — Battle at Upper Sanduaky — Colonel 
 Crawford taken, and burned at the stake — Dr. Knight's escape — 
 Hi-ok-a-too leads a war-party against the Cherokees — His personal 
 
 appearance — Dies of old age, 185 
 
 3 
 
28 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 Ebenezer Allen — The belt of wampum — He lives at Mary's house — 
 Marries a squaw — Taken by the Indians — Escapes and secretes 
 himself — Fed by Mary — Taken again, tried, and acquitted — 
 Builds a great mill at Rochester — Marries a white woman — Be- 
 moves to Allen's creek — Marries a third wife — Kemoves to Cana- 
 da with two wives — Abandons the first — His death, . . . 201 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Government of the Iroquois — Civil and Military Chiefs — Counsel- 
 ors — Religious Beliefs — The Great Spirit — The Evil Spirit — 
 Religious festivals — Sacrifice of the White Dog — The Dance — 
 Marriage Customs — Chastity of the Indian — Polygamy, . 21€ 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Life of Mary continued — Seneca Reservations sold in 1825 — Is left 
 among the whites — Discontented — Sold her remaining reserva- 
 tion, and removed to Buffalo creek — Professes Christianity — Her 
 death — Is buried near the Mission church — Description of her 
 tombstone — Her descendants, 236 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Maiy Jemiaon's Indian Name— Loss of all her property— James and David 
 Shongo— Buflalo Tom, the present head of the Jemison FamHy^His 
 household and how they live 242 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Mary Jemison desires to see the Missionaries— Interview with Mrs. Wright— 
 A mother's dymg injunction asserts its influence— The Captive's anguish 
 at forgetting her mother's prayer— Dawn upon a troubled soul — Personal 
 appearance of Mary Jemison— Her character, 854 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Additional particulars relating to Mary Jemison's parentage— Site of 
 old homestead in Adams County, Pa.— William Buck's grave- De- 
 scription of "White Woman's" personal appearance— Dr. Mun- 
 son's and Henry O'Reilly's interviews with her 260 
 
CONTENTS. 29 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 1. Eemoval of the Remains o£ Mary Jemison 271 
 
 2. Mary Jemison. Extract from Buffalo " Courier " S76 
 
 3. Deh-he-wa-mis. Extract from Buffalo "Commercial Adver- 
 
 tiser" 279 
 
 4. Mary Jemison's Grave 383 
 
 5. Death of Lieutenant Boyd 385 
 
 6. Indian Geographical Names 388 
 
rLLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Mabt Jemison Frontispiece 
 
 os-que-sont, or tomahawk 80 
 
 Ga-no-sotb, or Bark House 97 
 
 YotJNO Seneca Warrior 109 
 
 Ga-nuh'-sa, or Sea-Shell Medal 117 
 
 Corn Planter 126 
 
 Bark Canoe 129 
 
 Eed Jacket 132 
 
 Ga-geh-ta, or Belt 138 
 
 0-no-nea gos-ha-da, or corn-husk bottle . . . 151 
 Ah-ta-qua-o-wbh, Moccasin for Female . . . 163 
 
 Ga-on-seh, or Baby Frame 165 
 
 Gabdeatj Flats 175 
 
 Ga-weh-ga, or Snow Shoe ...... 184 
 
 Ear-ring 200 
 
 Face of Ear-ring 235 
 
 Thomas Jemison (" Buffalo Tom ") 246 
 
 Portrait of Mrs. Ashek Wright 254 
 
 Portrait of James Shonqo 272 
 
 Sarcophagus Enclosing the Ebmains of the "White 
 
 Woman" 275 
 
 Mart Jemison's Monument and Indian Council House . 288 
 
LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 DEH-HE-WA-MI8. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Parentage of Mary Jemison — Born on the Sea — Lands, with her 
 parents, in Philadelphia, in 11 iS — Settles in Marsh Creek, in West- 
 ern Pennsylvania — Indian alarms — Her childhood and edu- 
 cation. 
 
 Although I may have frequently heard the history of 
 my ancestry, my recollection is too imperfect to enable 
 me to trace it further back than to my father and mother, 
 whom I have often heard mention the families from 
 whence they originated, as having possessed wealth, and 
 honorable stations under the government of the country 
 in which they resided. 
 
 On account of the great length of time that has elapsed 
 since I was separated from my parents and friends, and 
 having heard the story of their nativity only in the days 
 of my childhood, I am unable to state positively which of 
 the two countries, Ireland or Scotland, was the land of my 
 parents' birth and education. It, however, is my impres- 
 sion, that they were born and brought up in Ireland. 
 
34 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 My father's name was Thomas Jemison, and my 
 mother's, before her marriage, was Jane Erwin. Tbeir af- 
 fection for each other was mutual, and of that happy kind 
 which tends directly to sweeten the cup of life ; to render 
 connubial sorrows lighter; to assuage every discontent- 
 ment; and to promote not only their own comfort, but that 
 of all who come within the circle of their acquaintance. Of 
 their happiness, I recollect to have heard them often speak ; 
 and the remembrance I yet retain of their mildness and 
 perfect agreement in the government of their children, to- 
 gether with theii' mutual attention to our common edu- 
 cation, manners, religious instruction and wants, renders 
 it certain in my mind that they were ornaments to the 
 married state, and examples of connubial love worthy of 
 imitation. After my remembrance, they were strict ob- 
 servers of religious duties ; for it was the daily practice 
 of my father, morning and evening, to attend, in his 
 family, to the worship of God. 
 
 Resolved to leave the land of their nativity, they re- 
 moved from their residence to a port in Ireland, where 
 they lived but a short time before they set sail for this 
 country, in the year 1742 or 1743, on board the ship Wil- 
 liam and Mary, bound to Philadelphia. 
 
 The intestine divisions, civil wars, and ecclesiastical 
 rigidity and domination that prevailed in those days, 
 were the causes of their leaving their mother country, to 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 35 
 
 find a home in the American wilderness, under the mild 
 and temperate government of the descendants of William 
 Penn ; where they might worship God according to the 
 dictates of their own consciences, and pursue their lawful 
 avocations without fear of molestation. 
 
 In Europe, my parents had two sons and one daughter ; 
 their names were John, Thomas, and Betsey; with whom, 
 after having put their effects on board, they embarked, 
 leaving a large connection of relatives and friends, under 
 all those painful sensations which are only felt when 
 kindred souls give the parting hand and last farewell to 
 those to whom they are endeared by every friendly tie. 
 
 During their voyage I was born — to be the sport of 
 fortune and almost an outcast to civil society ; to stem 
 the current of adversity through a long chain of vicissi- 
 tudes, unsupported by the advice of tender parents, or 
 the hand of an affectionate friend ; and even without the 
 enjoyment, from others, of any of those tender sympathies 
 which are calculated to sweeten the joys of life, except 
 such as naturally flow from uncultivated minds, that have 
 been rendered callous by ferocity. 
 
 Excepting my birth, nothing remarkable occurred to 
 
 my parents on their passage ; and they were safely landed 
 
 at Philadelphia. My father being fond of rural life, 
 
 and having been bred to agricultural pursuits, soon left 
 
 the city, and removed his family to a tract of excellent 
 3* 
 
36 LIFE OP MART JEMISON. 
 
 land lying on Marsh Creek, on the frontier settlement of 
 Pennsylvania. At that place, he cleared a large farm; 
 and for seven or eight years enjoyed the fruits of hia 
 mdustry. Peace attended their labors; and they had 
 nothing to alarm them, save the midnight howl of the 
 prowling wolf, or the terrifying shriek of the ferocious 
 panther, as they occasionally visited the improvements 
 to take a lamb or a calf to satisfy their hunger. 
 
 During this period my mother had two sons, between 
 whose ages there was a difference of about three years. 
 The oldest was named Matthew, and the other Eobert. 
 
 Health presided on every countenance, and vigor and 
 sta'ength characterized every exertion. Our mansion was 
 a little paradise. The morning of my childish, happy 
 days, will ever stand fresh in my memory, notwithstanding 
 the many severe trials through which I have passed, in 
 arriving at my present situation, at so advanced an age. 
 Even at this remote period, the recollection of my 
 pleasant home at my father's, of my parents, of my 
 brothers and sister, and of the manner in which I was 
 deprived of them all at once, affects me so powerfully 
 that I am almost overwhelmed with grief that is seem- 
 ingly insupportable. Frequently, I dream of those happy 
 days : but alas 1 they are gone ; they have left me to be 
 carried through a long life, dependent for the little 
 pleasures of nearly seventy years upon the tender mercies 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 37 
 
 of the Indians ! In the spring of 1762, and through the 
 succeeding seasons, the stories of Indian barbarities 
 inflicted upon the whites in those days frequently excited 
 in my parents the most serious alarm for our safety. 
 
 The next year, the storm gathered faster ; many mur- 
 ders were committed ; and many captives were exposed 
 to meet death in its most frightful form, by having their 
 bodies stuck full of pine splinters, which were imme- 
 diately set on fire, while their tormentors were exulting 
 in their distress and rejoicing in their agony. 
 
 In 1754, an army for the protection of the settlers, and 
 to drive back the French and Indians, was raised from 
 the militia of the colonial governments, and placed, sec- 
 ondarily, under the command of Colonel G-eorge Wash- 
 ington. In that army I had an uncle, whose name was 
 John Jemison, who was killed at the battle of the Great 
 Meadows, or Fort Necessity. His wife had died some 
 time before this, and left a young child, which my mother 
 nursed in the most tender manner, till its mother's sister 
 took it away, a few months after my uncle's death. The 
 French and Indians, after the surrender of Fort Necessity 
 by Col. Washington, (which happened the same season, 
 and soon after his victory over them at that place,) grew 
 more and more terrible. The death of the whites, and 
 the plundering and burning of their property, was appa- 
 rently their only object. But as yet we had not heard 
 
38 LIFE OP MARY JEMISON. 
 
 the death-yell, nor seen the smoke of a dwelling that had 
 been lit by an Indian's hand. 
 
 The return of a new-year's day found us unmolested ; 
 and though we knew that the enemy was at no great dis- 
 tance from us, my father concluded that he would con- 
 tinue to occupy his land another season, expecting, proba- 
 bly from the great exertions which the government was 
 then making, that as soon as the troops could commence 
 their operations in the spring, the enemy would be con- 
 quered, and compelled to agree to a treaty of peace. 
 
 In the preceding autumn, my father either moved to 
 another part of his farm, or to another neighborhood, a 
 short distance from our former abode. I well recollect 
 moving, and that the barn that was on the place we 
 moved to was built of logs, though the house was a 
 good one. 
 
 The winter of 1754^5, was as mild as common fall 
 seasons ; and spring presented a pleasant seedtime, and 
 mdicated a plenteous harvest. My father, with the 
 assistance of his oldest sons, repaired his farm as usual, 
 and was daily preparing the soil for the reception of seed. 
 His cattle and sheep were numerous, and according to the 
 best idea of wealth that I can now form, he was wealthy. 
 
 But alas ! how transitory are all human affairs ! how 
 fleeting are riches ! how brittle the invisible thread on 
 which all earthly comforts are suspended' Peace in a 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 89 
 
 moment can take an immeasurable flight ; health can 
 lose its rosy cheeks ; and life -will vanish like a vapor 
 at the appearance of the sun ! In one fatal day, our 
 prospects were all blasted ; and death, by cruel hands, 
 Inflicted upon almost the whole of the family. 
 
 My education had received as much attention from my 
 parents as their situation in a new country would admit. 
 I had been at school some, where I learned to read 
 in a book that was about half as large as a Bible ; and 
 in the Bible I had read a little. I had also learned the 
 Catechism, which I used frequently to repeat to my 
 parents ; and every night, before I went to bed, I was 
 obliged to stand up before my mother, and repeat some 
 words that I suppose was a prayer. 
 
 My reading, catechism, and prayers, I have long since 
 forgotten ; though, for a number of the first years that I 
 lived with the Indians, I repeated the prayers as often 
 as I had an opportunity. After the revolutionary war, I 
 remembered the names of some of the letters when I saw 
 them; but have never read a word since I was taken 
 prisoner. It is but a few years since a missionary kindly 
 gave me a Bible, which I am very fond of hearing my 
 neighbors read to me, and should be pleased to learn to 
 read it myself, r>ut my sight for a number of years has 
 been so dim that I have not been able to distinguish one 
 letter from another. 
 
40 LIFE OP MAET JEMTSON. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Fanci(!d omen — Inroad of a band of Shawnees — Whole family takec 
 captive in 1755 — Marched into the wilderness — Her mother's 
 farewell address — Murder of her father, mother, two brothers, 
 and sister — Preparation of scalps — Indian caution, to prevent 
 pursuit — Arrival at Fort Du Quesne. 
 
 On a pleasant day in the spring of 1755, when my fa- 
 ther was sowing flax-seed, and my brothers driving the 
 teams, I was sent to a neighbor's house, a distance of per- 
 haps a mUe, to procure a horse, and return with it the 
 next morning. I went as I was directed. I went out 
 of the house to which I had been sent in the beginning of 
 the evening, and saw a sheet, wide spread, approaching to- 
 ward me, in which I was caught, as I have ever since be- 
 lieved, and deprived of my senses. The family soon found 
 me on the ground, almost lifeless, as they said ; took me 
 in, and made use of every remedy in their power for my 
 recovery; but without effect, till daybreak, when my 
 senses returned, and I soon found myself 'n good health, 
 so that I went home with the hors' very early in 
 the morning. 
 
 The appearance of that sheet I have ever considered as 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 41 
 
 a, forerunner of the melancholy catastrophe that so soon 
 afterward happened to our family ; and my being caught 
 in it, I believe, "was ominous of my preservation from 
 death at the time we were captured. 
 
 As I before observed, I got home with my horse very 
 early in the morning, where I found a man who lived in 
 our neighborhood, and his sister-in-law who had three 
 children, one son and two daughters. I soon learned that 
 they had come there to live a short time ; but for what 
 purpose I can not say. The woman's husband, however, 
 was at that time in Washington's army, fighting for his 
 country ; and as her brother-in-law had a house, she had 
 lived with him in his absence. Their names I have for- 
 gotten. Immediately after I got home, the man took the 
 horse to go to his own house after a bag of grain, and 
 took his gun in his hand for the purpose of killing some 
 game, if he should chance to see any. Our family, as 
 usual, were busily employed about their common business. 
 Father was shaving an ax-helve at the side of the house; 
 mother was making preparations for breakfast; my two 
 oldest brothers were at work near the barn ; and the little 
 ones, with myself, and the woman and her three children, 
 were in the house. 
 
 Breakfast was not yet ready, when we were alarmed by 
 the discharge of a number of guns, that seemed to be 
 near. Mother and the woman before mentioned almost 
 
42 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON, 
 
 fainted at the report, and eyery one trembled with fear. 
 On opening the door, the man and horse lay dead near 
 the house, having just been shot by the Indians. 
 
 I was afterward informed, that the Indians discovered 
 him at his own house with his gun, and pursued him to 
 father's, where they shot him as I have related. They 
 first secured my father, and then rushed into the house, 
 and without the least resistance made prisoners of my 
 mother, brothers, and sister, the woman, her three children, 
 and myself; and then commenced plundering. 
 
 My two brothers, Thomas and John, being at the bam, 
 escaped and went to Virginia, where my grandfather Er- 
 win then lived, as I was informed by a Mr. Fields, who 
 was at my house about the close of the revolutionary war. 
 
 The party that took us consisted of six Indians and 
 four Frenchmen, who immediately commenced plundering, 
 as I just observed, and took what they considered most 
 valuable ; consisting principally of bread, meal, and meat. 
 Having taken as much provision as they could carry, 
 they set out with their prisoners in great haste, for fear 
 of detection, and soon entered the woods.* On our march 
 that day, an Indian went behind us with a whip, with 
 which he frequently lashed the children, to make them 
 keep up. In this manner we traveled till dark, without a 
 
 * Ab Mary was born in the year 1742 or 174.3, and was taken cap- 
 tive in 1755, she was at this time about thirteen years of age. — [En, 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 43 
 
 mouthful of food or a drop of water, although we had 
 not eaten since the night before. Whenever the little 
 children cried for water, the Indians would make them 
 drink urine, or go thirsty. At night they encamped in 
 the woods, without fire and without shelter, where we 
 were watched with the greatest vigilance. Extremely 
 fatigued, and very hungry, we were compelled to lie upon 
 the ground, without supper or a drop of water to satisfy 
 the cravings of our appetites. As in the day time, so the 
 little ones were made to drink urine in the night, if they 
 cried for water. Fatigue alone brought us a little sleep 
 for the refreshment of our weary limbs ; and at the dawn 
 of day we were again started on our march, in the same 
 order that we had proceeded the day before. About sun- 
 rise we were halted, and the Indians gave us a full 
 breakfast of provision that they had brought from my 
 father's house. Each of us, being very hungry, partook 
 of this bounty of the Indians, except father, who was so 
 much overcome with his situation, so much exhausted by 
 anxiety and grief, that silent despair seemed fastened 
 upon his countenance, and he could not be prevailed upon 
 to refresh his sinking nature by the use of a morsel of 
 food. Our repast being finished, we again resumed our 
 march ; and before noon passed a small fort, that I heard 
 my father say was called Fort Canagojigge. 
 
44 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 That was the only time that I heard him speak from 
 the time we were taken till we were finally separated the 
 following night. 
 
 Toward evening, we arrived at the border of a dark and 
 dismal swamp, which was covered with small hemlocks 
 or some other evergreen, and various kinds of bushes, into 
 which we were conducted ; and having gone a short dis- 
 tance, we stopped to encamp for the night. 
 
 Here we had some bread and meat for supper ; but the 
 dreariness of our situation, together with the uncertainty 
 under which we all labored, as to our future destiny, 
 almost deprived us of the sense of hunger, and destroyed 
 our relish for food. 
 
 Mother, from the time we were taken, had manifested 
 a great degree of fortitude, and encouraged us to support 
 our troubles without complaining; and by her conver- 
 sation, seemed to make the distance and time shorter, and 
 the way more smooth. But father lost all his ambition 
 in the beginning of our trouble, and continued apparently 
 lost to every care — absorbed in melancholy. Here, as 
 before, she insisted on the necessity of our eating; and 
 we obeyed her, but it was done with heavy hearts. 
 
 As soon as I had finished my supper, an Indian took 
 off my shoes and stockings, and put a pair of moccasins 
 on my feet, which my mother observed; and believing 
 
DEH-HE-Wl-MIS. 45 
 
 that they would spare my life, even if thej should destroy 
 the other captives, addressed me, as near as I can remem- 
 ber, in the following words : 
 
 "My dear little Mary, I fear that the time has arrived 
 when we must be parted for ever. Your life, my child, 
 I think will be spared; but we shall probably be toma- 
 hawked here in this lonesome place by the Indians. Oh ! 
 how can I part with you, my darling? What will 
 become of my sweet little Mary 1 Oh ! how can I think of 
 your being continued in captivity, without a hope of your 
 being rescued? Oh! that death had snatched you from 
 my embraces in your infancy : the pain of parting then 
 would have been pleasing to what it now is; and I 
 should have seen the end of your troubles ! Alas, my 
 dear ! my heart bleeds at the thought of what awaits you ; 
 but, if you leave us, remember, my child, your own name, 
 and the names of your father and mother. Be careful 
 and not forget your English tongue. If you shall have 
 an opportunity to get away from the Indians don't try 
 to escape; for if you do they will find and destroy you. 
 Do n't forget, my little daughter, the prayers that I have 
 learned you — say them often : be a good child, and God 
 will bless you ! May God bless you, my child, and make 
 you comfortable and happy." 
 
 During this time, the Indians stripped the shoes and 
 stockings from the little boy that belonged to the woman 
 
46 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 who was taken with us, and put moccasins on his feet, as 
 they had done before on mine. I was crying. An Indian 
 took the little boy and myself by the hand, to lead us off 
 from the company, when my mother exclaimed, " Do n't 
 cry, Mary ! — don't cry, my child ! God will bless you ! 
 Farewell — farewell ! " 
 
 The Indian led us some distance into the bushes or 
 woods, and there lay down with us to spend the night. 
 The recollection of parting with my tender mother kept 
 me awake, while the tears constantly flowed from my 
 eyes. A number of times in the night, the little boy 
 begged of me earnestly to run away with him, and get 
 clear of the Indians ; but remembering the advice I had 
 so lately received, and knowing the dangers to which we 
 should be exposed, in traveling without a path and with- 
 out a guide, through a wilderness unknown to us, I told 
 him that I would not go, and persuaded him to lie still 
 till morning. 
 
 Early the next morning, the Indians and Frenchmen 
 that we had left the night before came to us ; but our 
 friends were left behind. It is impossible for any one to 
 form a correct idea of what my feelings were at the sight 
 of those savages, whom I supposed had murdered my 
 parents and brothers, sister and friends, and left them 
 in the swamp, to be devoured by wild beasts ! But what 
 could I do 1 A poor little defenseless girl ; without the 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 47 
 
 power or means of escaping ; ■without a home to go to, 
 even if I could be liberated ; without a knowledge of the 
 direction or distance to my former place of residence; 
 and without a living friend to whom to fly for protection, 
 I felt a kind of horror, anxiety, and dread, that to me 
 .seemed insupportable. I durst not cry — I durst not 
 complain; and to inquire of them the fate of my friends, 
 even if I could have mustered resolution, was beyond 
 my ability, as I could not speak their language, nor 
 they understand mine. My only relief was in silent, 
 stifled sobs. 
 
 My suspicions as to the fate of my parents proved too 
 true; for soon after I left them they were killed and 
 scalped, together with Eobert, Matthew, Betsey, and the 
 woman and her two children, and mangled in the most 
 shocking manner. 
 
 Haying given the little boy and myself some bread 
 and meat for breakfast, they led us on as fast as we couW 
 travel, and one of them went behind with a long staff, 
 poking up all the grass and weeds that we trailed down 
 by going over them. By taking that precaution, they 
 avoided detection ; for each weed was so nicely placed in 
 its natural position, that no one would have suspected 
 tbat we had passed that way. It is the custom of 
 Indians, when scouting, or on private expeditions, to step 
 carefully, and where no impression of their feet can be 
 
48 LIFE OF MAKif JFMISON. 
 
 left — shunning wet or muddy ground. They seldom 
 take hold of a bush or limb, and never break one ; and 
 by observing these precautions, and that of setting up the 
 weeds and grass which they necessarily lop, they com- 
 pletely elude the sagacity of their pursuers, and escape 
 that punishment which they are conscious they merit 
 from the hand of justice. 
 
 After a hard day's march we encamped in a ihicket, 
 where the Indians made a shelter of boughs, and then 
 built a good fire to warm and dry our benumbed limbs 
 and clothing; for it had rained some through the day. 
 Here we were again fed as before. When the Indians 
 had finished their supper, they took from their baggage 
 a number of scalps, and went about preparing them for 
 the market, or to keep without spoiling, by straining 
 them over small hoops which they prepared for that 
 purpose, and then drying and scraping them by the fire. 
 Having put the scalps, yet wet and bloody, upon the 
 hoops, and stretched them to their full extent, they held 
 them to the fire tUl they were partly dried, and then, 
 with their knives, commenced scraping off the flesh ; and 
 in that way they continued to work, alternately drying 
 and scraping them, till they were dry and clean. That 
 being done, they combed the hair in the neatest manner, 
 and then painted it and the edges of the scalps, yet on 
 the hoops, red. Those scalps I knew at the time must 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 49 
 
 have been taken from our family, by the color of the hair. 
 My mother's hair was red ; and I could easily distinguish 
 my father's and the children's from each other. That 
 sight was most appalling ; yet I was obliged to endure it 
 without complaining. In the course of the night, they 
 made me to understand that they should not have killed 
 the family, if the whites had not pursued them. 
 
 Mr. Fields, whom I have before mentioned, informed 
 me that, at the time we were taken, he lived in the vicin- 
 ity of my father ; and that, on hearing of our captivity, 
 the whole neighborhood turned out in pursuit of the ene- 
 my, and to deliver us, if possible ; but that their efforts 
 were unavailing. They, however, pursued us to the dark 
 swamp, where they found my father, his family, and com- 
 panions, stripped, and mangled in the most inhuman man- 
 ner : that from thence the march of the cruel monsters 
 could not be traced in any direction ; and that they re- 
 turned to their homes with the melancholy tidings of 
 our misfortunes, supposing we had all shared in the 
 massacre. 
 
 The next morning we pursued our journey, an Indian 
 going behind us and setting up the weeds, as on the day 
 before. At night, we encamped on the ground in the 
 open air, without a shelter or fire. 
 
 In the morning we again set out early, and traveled 
 as on the two former days; though the weather was 
 
50 LIFE OF MAEY .TEMISON. 
 
 extremely uncomfortable, from the continual falling of 
 ram and snow. 
 
 At nigit the snow fell fast, and the Indians built a 
 snelter of boughs, and kindled a fii-e, where we rested 
 tolerably dry through that and the two succeeding nights. 
 
 When we stopped, and before the fire was kindled, I 
 was so much fatigued from running, and so far benumbed 
 by tne wet and cold, that I expected that I must fall and 
 me before I could get warm and comfortable. The fire, 
 nowever, soon restored the circulation of blood; and after 
 I had taken my supper. I felt so that I rested well 
 through the night. 
 
 On account of the storm, we were two days at that 
 nlace. On one of those days, a party consisting of six 
 Indians, who had been to the frontier settlements, came 
 to where we were, and brought with them one prisoner — 
 a young white man, who was very tired and dejected. HLs 
 name I have forgotten. 
 
 Misery certainly loves company. I was extremely 
 glad to see him, though I knew from his appearance that 
 his situation was as deplorable as my ow^, and that he 
 could afford me no kind of assistance. In the afternoon 
 the Indians killed a deer, wmch they dressed, and then 
 roasted whole ; which made them a full meal. We were 
 each allowed a share of their venison, and some bread, so 
 that we made a good meal also. 
 
DEH-HE-Wl-MIS. 51 
 
 Having spent three nights and two days at that place, 
 and the storm having ceased, early in the morning the 
 whole company, consisting of twelve Indians, four French- 
 men, the young man, the little boy, and myself, moved on 
 at a moderate pace, without taking the previously-adopted 
 precautions to olditerate or hide our trail. 
 
 In the aftemam we came in sight of Fort Du Quesne, 
 (since Fort Pitt, now Pittsburg,) where we halted, while 
 the Indians performed some ceremonies in conformity to 
 their customs on such occasions. That fort was then 
 occupied by the French and Indians. It stood at the 
 junction of the Monongahela, (Falling-in-Banks,) and 
 Alleghany rivers, where the Ohio Eiver begins to take its 
 name. The word 0-hi-o signifies bloody.* 
 
 At the place where we halted, the Indians combed the 
 hair of the young man, the boy, and myself, and then 
 painted our faces and hair red, in the finest Indian style. 
 We were then conducted into the fort, where we received 
 a little bread, and were then shut up in an uninhabited 
 house, and left to tarry alone through the night. 
 
 * 0-hee-yo, the radix of the word Ohio, signifies the " Beautiful 
 River ;" and the Iroquois, by conferring it upon the Alleghany, or head 
 branch of the Ohio, have not only fixed a name from their language upon 
 one of the great rivers of the Continent, but indirectly upon one of the 
 noblest states of our Confederacy. — [LEAOnK of the Iroquois, p. 436 
 3 
 
52 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Mary is given to two Seneca women — They descend the Ohio — 
 Arrival at She-nan-jee — She is dressed in Indian costume — 
 Adopted as a Seneca — Ceremony of Adoption — Is named Deh- 
 he-wa-mis — Nearly regains her liberty — Kemoval to Wi-ish-to — 
 She is married to She-nin-jee, a Delaware — Birth and death of a 
 child — Birth of another child. 
 
 The night was spent in gloomy forebodings. What the 
 result of our captivity would be, it was out of our power to 
 determine, or even imagine. At times, we could almost 
 realize the approach of our masters to butcher and scalp 
 us ; again, we could nearly see the pile of wood kindled 
 on which we were to be roasted; and then we would 
 Imagine ourselves at liberty, alone and defenseless in the 
 forest, surrounded by wild beasts that were ready to de- 
 vour us. The anxiety of our minds drove sleep from oui 
 eyelids; and it was with a dreadful hope and painful 
 impatience that we waited for the morning to determine 
 our fate. 
 
 The morning at length arrived, and our masters came 
 early and let us out of the house, and gave the young 
 man and boy to the French, who immediately took them 
 
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DEH-HE-WA-MXS. 55 
 
 away. Their fate I never learned, as I have not seen 
 nor heard of them since. 
 
 1 was now left alone in the fort, deprived of my former 
 companions, and of every thing that was near or dear to 
 me but life. But it was not long before I was in some 
 measure relieved by the appearance of two pleasant- 
 looking squaws, of the Seneca tribe, who came and 
 examined me attentively for a short time, and then went 
 out. After a few minutes' absence, they returned in com- 
 pany with my former masters, who gave me to the squaws 
 to dispose of as they pleased. 
 
 The Indians by whom I was taken were a party of 
 Shawnees,* if I remember right, that lived, when at 
 lome, a long distance down the Ohio. 
 
 My former Indian masters and the two squaws were 
 soon ready to leave the fort, and accordingly embarked — 
 the Indians in a large canoe, and the two squaws and 
 myself in a small one — and went down the Ohio. When 
 we set off, an Indian in the forward canoe took the scalps 
 of my former friends, strung them on a pole that he 
 
 * The home country of the Shawnees, at the period ol colonization 
 by the Europeans, was in the western part of the present state of 
 Kentucky. They are thus located by Albert Gallatin, on his map of 
 the sites of the Indian tribes of the Continent, published in the second 
 volume of the " Transactions of the American Ethnological Society." 
 The name of this nation in the Seneca dialect of the Iroquois lan- 
 ^age is Sa-w'd-no-o-no. — [Ed. 
 
56 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 placed upon his shoulder, and in that manner carried 
 them, standing in the stern of the canoe directly before 
 us, as we sailed down the river, to the town where the 
 two squaws resided. 
 
 On the way we passed a Shawnee town, where I saw 
 a number of heads, arms, legs, and other fi-agments of the 
 bodies of some white people who had just been burned. 
 The parts that remained were hanging on a pole, which 
 was supported at each end by a crotch stuck in the 
 ground, and were roasted or burnt black as a coal. The 
 fire was yet burning ; and the whole appearance afforded 
 a spectacle so shocking that even to this day the blood 
 almost curdles in my veins when I think of them. 
 
 At night we arrived at a small Seneca Indian town, 
 at the mouth of a small river that was called by the 
 Indians, in the Seneca language, She-nan-jee, about 
 eighty miles by water from the fort, where the two 
 squaws to whom I belonged resided. There we landed, 
 and the Indians went on ; which was the last I ever saw 
 of them. 
 
 Having made fast to the shore, the squaws left me in 
 the canoe while they went to their wigwam or house in 
 the town, and returned with a suit of Indian clothing, all 
 new, and very clean and nice. My clothes, though whole 
 and good when I was taken, were now torn in pieces, so 
 that I was almost naked. They first undressed me, and 
 
DBH-HE-WA-MIS. 57 
 
 threw my rags into the river ; then washed me clean and 
 dressed me in the new suit they had just brought, in 
 complete Indian style ; and then led me home and seated 
 me in the center of their wigwam. 
 
 I had been in that situation but a few minutes before 
 all the squaws in the town came in to see me. I was 
 soon surrounded by them, and they immediately set up a 
 most dismal howling, crying bitterly, and wringing their 
 hands in all the agonies of grief for a deceased relative. 
 
 Their tears flowed freely, and they exhibited all the 
 signs of real mourning. At the commencement of this 
 scene, one of their number began, in a voice somewhat 
 between speaking and singing, to recite some words to 
 the following purport, and continued the recitation till 
 the ceremony was ended ; the company at the same time 
 varying the appearance of their countenances, gestures, 
 and tone of voice, so as to correspond with the senti- 
 ments expressed by their leader. 
 
 " Oh, our brother ! alas ! he is dead — he has gone; he 
 will never retnm ! Friendless, he died on the field of the 
 slain, where his bones are yet lying unburied ! Oh ! who 
 will not mourn his sad fate 1 No tears dropped around 
 him : oh, no ! No tears of his sisters were there ! He 
 fell in his prime, when his arm was most needed to keep 
 us from danger ! Alas ! he has gone, and left us in sor- 
 row, his loss to bewail ! Oh, where is his spirit 1 His 
 
58 LIFE OP MAET JEMISON. 
 
 spirit went naked, and hungry it wanders, and thirsty 
 and wounded, it groans to return ! Oh, helpless and 
 wretched, our brother has gone ! No blanket nor food 
 to nourish and warm him ; nor candles to light him, nor 
 weapons of war ! Oh, none of those comforts had he ! 
 But well we remember his deeds ! The deer he could 
 take on the chase ! The panther shrunk back at the 
 sight of his strength ! His enemies fell at his feet ! He 
 was brave and courageous in war ! As the fawn, he was 
 harmless ; his friendship was ardent ; his temper was 
 gentle ; his pity was great ! Oh ! our friend, our com- 
 panion, is dead ! Our brother, our brother 1 alas, he is 
 gone ! But why do we grieve for his loss 1 In the 
 strength of a warrior, undaunted he left us, to fight by 
 the side of the chiefs ! His warwhoop was shrill ! His 
 rifle well aimed laid his enemies low : his tomahawk 
 drank of their blood: and his knife flayed their scalps 
 while yet covered with gore ! And why do we mourn ? 
 Though he fell on the field of the slain, with glory he fell ; 
 and his spirit went up to the land of his fathers in war ! 
 Then why do we mourn ? With transports of joy, they 
 received him, and fed him, and clothed him, and welcomed 
 him there ! Oh, friends, he is happy ; then dry up your 
 tears ! His spirit has seen our distress, and sent us a 
 helper whom with pleasure we greet. Deh-he-wa-mis has 
 come: then let us receive her with joy! — she is hand- 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 59 
 
 some and pleasant ! Ot ! she is our sister, and gladly 
 we welcome her here. In the place of our brother she 
 stands in our tribe. With care we will guard her from 
 trouble ; and may she be happy till her spirit shall leave us." 
 
 In the course of that ceremony, from mourning they 
 became serene, — joy sparkled in their countenances, and 
 they seemed to rejoice over me as over a long-lost child. 
 I was made welcome among them as a sister to the two 
 squaws before mentioned, and was called Deh-he-wa-mis ; 
 which, being interpreted, signifies a pretty girl, a hand- 
 some girl, or a pleasant, good thing. That is the name 
 by which I have ever since been called by the Indians. 
 
 I afterward learned that the ceremony I at that time 
 passed through was that of adoption. The two squaws 
 had lost a brother in "Washington's war, sometime in the 
 year before, and in consequence of his death went up to 
 Fort Du Quesne on the day on which I arrived there, in 
 order to receive a prisoner, or an enemy's scalp, to supply 
 their loss. It is a custom of the Indians, when one of 
 their number is slaui or taken prisoner in battle, to give 
 to the nearest relative of the dead or absent a prisoner, 
 if they have chanced to take one ; and if not, to give him 
 the scalp of an enemy. On the return of the Indians 
 from the conquest, which is always announced by peculiar 
 shoutings, demonstrations of joy, and the exhibition of 
 some trophy of victory, the mourners come forward and 
 
so LIFE OF MAEY JEKISON. 
 
 make their claims. If they receive a prisoner, it is at 
 their option either to satiate their vengeance by taking 
 his life in the most cruel manner they can conceive of, 
 or to receive and adopt him into the family, in the 
 place of him whom they have lost. All the prisoners 
 that are taken in battle and carried to the encampment 
 or town by the Indians are given to the bereaved families, 
 till their number is good. And unless the mourners have 
 but just received the news of their bereavement, and are 
 under the operation of a paroxysm of grief, anger, or re- 
 venge; or, unless the prisoner is very old, sickly, or 
 homely, they generally save them, and treat them kindly. 
 But if their mental wound is fresh, their loss so great 
 that they deem it irreparable, or if their prisoner or pris- 
 oners do not meet their approbation, no torture, let it be 
 ever so cruel, seems sufficient to make them satisfaction. 
 It is family and not national sacrifices among the In- 
 dians, that has given them an indelible stamp as bar- 
 barians, and identified their character with the idea 
 which is generally formed of unfeeling ferocity and the 
 most barbarous cruelty. 
 
 It was my happy lot to be accepted for adoption. At 
 the time of the ceremony I was received by the two 
 squaws to supply the place of their brother in the family ; 
 and I was ever considered and treated by them as a real 
 sister, the same as though I had been born of their mother. 
 
DEII-HK-WA-MIS. 61 
 
 During the ceremony of my adoption, I sat motionless, 
 Qearly terrified to death at the appearance and actions of 
 the company, expecting every moment to feel their ven- 
 geance, and suffer death on the spot. I was, however, 
 happily disappointed ; when at the close of the ceremony 
 the company retired, and my sisters commenced employ- 
 ing every means for my consolation and comfort.* 
 
 * "The Iroquois nerer exchanged prisoners with Indian nations, 
 nor ever sought to reclaim their own people from captirity among 
 them. Adoption or the torture were the alternative chances of the 
 captive. » * * A regular ceremony of adoption was performed 
 in each case to complete the naturaUzation. With captives this cere- 
 mony was the gauntlet, after which new names were assigned to them. 
 Upon the return of a war party with captives, if they had lost any of 
 their own number in the expedition, the families to which these be- 
 longed were first allowed an opportunity to supply from the captives 
 the places made vacant in their household. Any family could then 
 adopt out of the residue any such as chanced to attract their favorable 
 notice, or whom they wished to save. At the time appointed, the 
 women and children of the village arranged themselves in two parallel 
 rows just without the village, each one having a whip with which to 
 lash the captives as they passed between the lines. The male cap- 
 tives, who alone were required to undergo this test of their powers 
 of endurance, were brought out, and each one was shown in turn the 
 house in which he was to take refuge, and which was to be his future 
 home if he passed successfully through the ordeal. They were then 
 taken to the head of this long avenue of whips, and were compelled, 
 one ailer another, to run through it for their lives, and for the enter- 
 tainment of the surrounding throng, exposed at every step, unde- 
 fended, and with naked backs, to the merciless infliction of the whip. 
 Those who fell from exhaustion were immediately dispatched, as un- 
 3* 
 
62 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 Being now settled and provided with a home, I was 
 employed in nursing the children, and doing light work 
 about the house. Occasionally, I was sent out with the 
 Indian hunters, when they went but a short distance, to 
 help them carry their game. My situation was easy; I 
 had no particular hardships to endure. But still, the 
 recollection of my parents, my brothers and sisters, my 
 home, and my own captivity, destroyed my happiness, 
 and made me constantly solitary, lonesome, and gloomy. 
 
 My sisters would not allow me to speak English in 
 their hearing ; but remembering the charge that my dear 
 mother gave me at the time I left her, whenever I 
 chanced to be alone I made a business of repeating my 
 prayer, catechism, or something I had learned, in order 
 that I might not forget my own language. By practicing 
 in that way, I retained it till I came to Genesee flats, 
 where I soon became acquainted with English people, 
 with whom I have been almost daily in the habit of 
 conversing. 
 
 worthy to be saved ; but those who emerged in safety from this teat 
 of their physical energies were from that moment treated with the 
 utmost affection and kindness. When the perils of the gauntlet were 
 over, the captive ceased to be an enemy, and became an Iroquois. 
 Not only so, but he was received into the family by which he was 
 adopted, with all the cordiaUty of affection, and into all the relations 
 of the one whose place he was henceforth to occupy." — ^League op 
 THE Iroquois, p. 342. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 63 
 
 My sisters were very diligent in teaching me their 
 language ; and to their great satisfaction, I soon learned 
 so that I could understand it readily, and speak it 
 fluently. I was very fortunate in falling into their 
 hands ; for they were kind, good-natured women ; peace- 
 able and mild in their dispositions ; temperate and decent 
 ua their habits, and very tender and gentle toward me. 
 I have great reason to respect them, though they have 
 been dead a great number of years. 
 
 The town where they lived was pleasantly situated 
 on the Ohio, at the mouth of the Shenanjee. The 
 land produced good corn; the woods furnished plenty 
 of game, and the waters abounded with fish. Another 
 river emptied itself into the Ohio, directly opposite 
 the mouth of the Shenanjee. We spent the summer 
 at that place, where we planted, hoed, and harvested a 
 large crop of corn, of excellent quality. 
 
 About the time of our corn harvest. Fort Du Quesne 
 was taken from the French by the English, and called 
 Fort Pitt. 
 
 The corn being harvested, the Indians took it on horses 
 and in canoes, and with us proceeded down the Ohio, 
 occasionally stopping to hunt a few days, till we arrived 
 at the mouth of Sciota river; where they established 
 their winter quarters, and continued hunting till the 
 ensuing spring, in the adjacent wilderness. While at 
 
64 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 that place, I went with the other children to assist the 
 hunters to bring in their game. The forests on the 
 Soiota were well stocked with elk, deer, and other large 
 animals; and the marshes contained large numbers of 
 beaver, muskrat, etc., which made excellent hunting for 
 the Indians; who depended, for their meat, upon their 
 success in taking elk and deer ; and for ammunition and 
 clothing, upon the beaver, muskrat, and other furs that 
 they could take in addition to their peltry. 
 
 The season for hunting being passed, we all returned 
 in the spring to the mouth of the river Shenanjee, to 
 the houses and fields we had left in the fall before. 
 There we again planted our corn, squashes, and beans, on 
 the fields that we occupied the preceding summer. 
 
 About planting time, our Indians all went up to Fort 
 Pitt, to make peace with the British, and took me with 
 them. "We landed on the opposite side of the river from 
 the fort, and encamped for the night. Early the next 
 morning the Indians took me over to the fort to see the 
 white people who were there. It was then that my heart 
 bounded to be liberated from the Indians and to be 
 restored to my friends and my country. The white 
 people were surprised to see me with the Indians, endur- 
 ing the hardships of a savage life, at so early an age, and 
 with so delicate a constitution as I appeared to possess. 
 They asked me my name ; where and when I was taken. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. ■ 65 
 
 and appeared very much interested on my behalf. They 
 were continuing their inquiries, when my sisters became 
 alarmed, and, believing I should be taken from them, 
 hurried me into their canoe, and recrossed the river — 
 took their bread out of the fire, and fled -with me, without 
 stopping, till they arrived at the river Shenanjee. So 
 great was their fear of losing me, or of my being given 
 up in the treaty, that they never once stopped rowing till 
 they got home. 
 
 Shortly after we left the shore opposite the fort, as I 
 was informed by one of my Indian brothers, the white 
 people came over to take me back ; but after considerable 
 inquiry, and having made diligent search to find where I 
 was hid, they returned with heavy hearts. Although I 
 had then been with the Indians something over a year, 
 and had become considerably habituated to their mode 
 of living, and attached to my sisters, the sight of white 
 people who could speak English inspired me with an un- 
 speakable anxiety to go home with them, and share in 
 the blessings of civilization. My sudden departure and 
 escape from them seemed like a second captivity, and for 
 a long time I brooded over the thoughts of my miserable 
 situation with almost as much sorrow and dejection as I 
 had done over those of my first sufferings. Time, the 
 destroyer of every afi"ection, wore away my unpleasant 
 
im LIFE OP MAET JEMISON. 
 
 feelings, and I became as contented as before. We tended 
 our cornfields through the summer; and after we had 
 harvested the crop, we again went down the river to the 
 hunting-grounds on the Sciota, where we spent the 
 winter, as we had done the winter before. 
 
 Early in the spring, we sailed up the Ohio River to a 
 place that the Indians called Wi-ish-to, where one river 
 emptied into the Ohio on one side, and another on the 
 other, about eighty or ninety miles above the mouth of 
 the Sciota. At that place the Indians built a town, and 
 we planted corn. 
 
 "We lived three summers at Wiishto, and spent each 
 winter on the Sciota. 
 
 The first summer of our living at Wiishto, a party 
 of Delaware Indians came up the river, took up their 
 residence, and lived in common with us. They brought 
 five white prisoners with them, who, by their conversa- 
 tion, made my situation much more agreeable, as they 
 could all speak English. I have forgotten the names of 
 all of them except one, which was Priscilla Eamsay. 
 She was a very handsome, good-natured girl, and was 
 married soon after she came to Wiishto, to Captain 
 Little Billy's uncle, who went with her on a visit to her 
 friends in the States. Having tarried with them as long 
 as she wished to, she returned with her husband to Can- 
 a-ah-tua, where he died. She, after his death, married a 
 
UEH-HE-WA-MIS. 67: 
 
 white man by the name of Nettles, and now lives with 
 him, if she is living, on Grand Eiver, Upper Canada. 
 
 Not long after the Delawares came to live with us at 
 Wiishto, my sisters told me that I must go and live with 
 one of them, whose name was She-nin-jee. Not daring 
 to cross them or disobey their commands, with a great 
 degree of reluctance I went ; and Sheninjee and I were 
 man-ied according to Indian custom. 
 
 Sheninjee was a noble man — large in stature, elegant 
 in his appearance, generous in his conduct, courteous in 
 war, a friend to peace, and a lover of justice. He sup- 
 ported a degree of dignity far above his rank, and merited 
 and received the confidence and friendship of all the 
 tribes with whom he was acquainted. Yet, Sheninjee 
 was an Indian. The idea of my spending my days with 
 him at first seemed perfectly irreconcilable to my feelings ; 
 but his good nature, generosity, tenderness, and friendship 
 toward me, soon gained my affection ; and, strange as it 
 may seem, I loved him ! To me he was ever kind in 
 sickness, and always treated me with gentleness ; in fact, 
 he was an agreeable husband and a comfortable compan- 
 ion. We lived happily together till the time of our final 
 separation, which happened two or three years after our 
 marriage. 
 
 In the second summer of my living at "Wiishto, I had 
 a child, at the time that the kernels of com first appeared 
 
68 LIFE OF MART .TEMISON. 
 
 on tlie cob. When I was taken sick, Sheninjee was ab- 
 sent, and I was sent to a small shed on the bank of the 
 river, which was made of boughs, where I was obliged to 
 stay till my husband returned. My two sisters, who were 
 my only companions, attended me ; and on the second day 
 of my confinement my child was born ; but it lived only 
 two days. It was a girl; and notwithstanding the short 
 ness of the time that I possessed it, it was a great grief 
 to me to lose it. 
 
 After the birth of my child I was very sick, but wai 
 not allowed to go into the house for two weeks ; when, t( 
 my great joy, Sheninjee returned, and I was taken in, and 
 as comfortably provided for as our situation would admit. 
 My disease continued to increase for a number of days ; 
 and I became so far reduced that my recovery was de- 
 spaired of by my friends, and I concluded that my troublef 
 would soon be finished. At length, however, my com- 
 plaint took a favorable turn, and by the time the corn was 
 ripe I was able to get about. I continued to gain my 
 health, and in the fall was able to go to our winter quar- 
 ters, on the Saratoga, with the Indians. 
 
 From that time nothing remarkable occurred to me till 
 the fourth winter of my captivity, when I had a son born, 
 while I was at Sciota. I had a quick recovery, and my 
 child was healthy. To commemorate the name of my 
 much-lamented father, I called my son Thomas Jemison. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 69 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Visits Fort Pitt — Desire for liberty Bubsidea — Labors of the Indiau 
 females — Removal from Wi-ish-to to the Genesee — Meet Shawneea 
 who had murdered two white men, and were torturing a third — 
 He is rescued by Mary — Arrive at Little Beard's Town. 
 
 In the spring, when Thomas was three or four moons 
 (months) old, we returned from Sciota to Wiishto, and 
 Boon after set out to go to Fort Pitt, to dispose of our 
 furs and skins that we had taken in the winter, and pro- 
 cure some necessary articles for the use of our family. 
 
 I had then been with the Indians four summers and 
 four winters, and had become so far accustomed to their 
 mode of living, habits, and dispositions, that my anxiety to 
 get away, to be set at liberty and leave them, had almost 
 subsided. With them was my home; my family was 
 there, and there I had many friends to whom I was 
 warmly attached in consideration of the favors, affection, 
 and friendship with which they had uniformily treated 
 me from the time of my adoption. Our labor was not 
 severe; and that of one year was exactly similar in almost 
 every respect to that of the others, without that endless 
 variety that is to be observed in the common labor of the 
 
70 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 white people. Notwithstanding the Indian women have 
 all the fuel and bread to procure, and the cooking to 
 perform, their task is probably not harder than that 
 of white women, who have those articles provided for 
 them; and their cares certainly are not half as numerous, 
 nor as great. In the summer season, we planted, tended, 
 and harvested our corn, and generally had all our children 
 with US; but had no master to oversee or drive us, so 
 that we could work as leisurely as we pleased. We had 
 no plows on the Ohio, but performed the whole process 
 of planting and hoeing with a small tool that resem- 
 bled, in some respects, a hoe with a very short handle. 
 
 We pursued our farming business according to the gen- 
 eral custom of Indian women, which is as follows : In 
 order to expedite their business, and at the same time 
 enjoy each other's company, they all work together in one 
 field, or at whatever job they may have on hand. In the 
 spring, they choose an old active squaw to be their driver 
 and overseer, when at labor, for the ensuing year. She 
 accepts the honor, and they consider themselves bound to 
 obey her. 
 
 When the time for planting arrives, and the soil is pre- 
 pared, the squaws are assembled in the morning, and con- 
 ducted into a field, where each plants one row. They 
 then go into the next field and plant once across, and so 
 on till they have gone through the tribe. If any remains 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 7| 
 
 to be planted, they again commence where they did at 
 first, (in the same field,) and so keep on till the whole is 
 finished. By this rule, they perform their labor of every 
 kind, and every jealousy of one having done more or less 
 than another is effectually avoided. 
 
 Each squaw outs her own wood ; but it is all brought 
 to the house under the direction of the overseer. 
 
 Their method of computing time was by moons and 
 winters : a moon is a month ; and the time from the end 
 of one winter to that of another, a year. 
 
 From sunset till sunrise, they say that the sun is asleep. 
 In the old of the moon, when it does not shine in the 
 night, they say it is dead. They rejoice greatly at the 
 sight of the new moon. 
 
 In order to commemorate great events, and preserve 
 the chronology of them, the war chief in each tribe keeps 
 a war-post. This post is a peeled stick of timber ten or 
 twelve feet high, that is erected in the town. For a cam- 
 paign, they make, or rather the chief makes, a perpen- 
 dicular red mark, about three inches long and half an inch 
 wide ; on the opposite side from this, for a scalp, they 
 make a red cross, thus, -f ; on another side, for a prisoner 
 taken alive, they make a red cross in this manner, ^, with 
 a head, or dot ; and by placing such significant hiero- 
 glyphics in so conspicuous a situation, they are enabled 
 
72 LIFE OP MAET JEMISON. 
 
 to ascertain with great certainty the time and circum- 
 stances of past events. 
 
 Hiokatoo had a war-post, on which was recorded his 
 military exploits, and other things that he thought worth 
 preserving. 
 
 Our cooking consisted in pounding our corn into samp 
 or hominy, boiling the hominy, making now and then a 
 cake and baking it in the ashes, and in boiling or roasting 
 our venison. As our cooking and eating utensils consisted 
 of a hominy block and pestle, a small kettle, a knife or 
 two, and a few vessels of bark or wood, it required but 
 little time to keep them in order for use. 
 
 Spinning, weaving, sewing, stocking knitting, and the 
 like, are arts which have never been practiced in the Indian 
 tribes generally. After the revolutionary war, I learned 
 to sew, so that I could make my own clothing after a 
 poor fashion ; but I have been wholly ignorant of the appli- 
 cation of the other domestic arts since my captivity. In the 
 season of hunting, it was our business, in addition to our 
 cooking, to bring home the game that was taken by the In- 
 dians, dress it, and carefully preserve the eatable meat, and 
 prepare or dress the skins. Our clothing was fastened to- 
 gether with strings of deerskin, and tied on with the same. 
 
 In that manner we lived, without any of those jealousies, 
 quarrels, and revengeful battles between families and indi- 
 
DETl-flE-'WA-MIS. 
 
 @ 
 
 viduals, which have been common in the Indian tribes 
 since the introduction of ardent spirits among them 
 
 The use of ardent spirits among the Indians, and a 
 majority of the attempts which have been made to civilize 
 them by the white people, have constantly made them 
 worse and worse ; increased their vices, and robbed them 
 of many of their virtues, and will ultimately produce their 
 extermination. I have seen, in a number of instances, 
 the effects of education upon some of our Indians, who 
 were taken, when young, from their families, and placed 
 at school before they had had an opportunity to contract 
 many Indian habits, and there kept till they arrived to 
 manhood ; but I have never seen one of those but was 
 an Indian in every respect after he returned. Indians 
 must and will be Indians, in spite of all the means that 
 can be used to instruct them in the arts and sciences. 
 
 One thing only marred my happiness while I lived with 
 them on the Ohio, and that was the recollection that I 
 once had tender parents, and a home that I loved. 
 Aside from that recollection, which could not have existed 
 had I been taken in my infancy, I should have been con- 
 tented in my situation. Notwithstanding all that has 
 been said against the Indians, in consequence of their 
 cruelties to their enemies — cruelties that I have witnessed 
 and had abundant proof of — it is a fact that they are 
 naturally kind, tender, and peaceable toward their friends. 
 
74 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 and strictly honest; and that those cruelties have been 
 practiced only upon their enemies, according to their idea 
 of justice. 
 
 At the time we left Wiishto, it was impossible for me 
 to suppress a sigh on parting with those who had truly 
 been my friends — with those whom I had every rea- 
 son to respect. On account of a part of our family 
 living at Genishau, or Genesee, we thought it doubtful 
 whether we should return directly from Fort Pitt, or go 
 from thence on a visit to see them. 
 
 Our company consisted of my husband, my two Indian 
 brothers, my little son, and myself. We embarked in a 
 canoe that was large enough to contain ourselves and our 
 effects, and proceeded up the river. 
 
 Nothing remarkable occurred to us on our way, till we 
 arrived at the mouth of a creek which Sheninjee and my 
 brothers said was the outlet of Sandusky Lake; where, as 
 they said, two or three English traders in fur and skins 
 had kept a trading-house but a short time before, though 
 they were then absent. We had passed the trading-house 
 but a short distance when we met three white men float- 
 ing down the river, with the appearance of having been 
 recently murdered by the Indians. We supposed them 
 to be the bodies of the traders whose stores we had passed 
 the same day. Sheninjee being alarmed for fear of being 
 apprehended as one of the murderers, if he should go on, 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS, 76 
 
 resolved to put about immediately ; and we accordingly 
 returned to where the traders had lived, and there landed. 
 
 At the trading-house we found a party of Shawnee In- 
 dians, who had taken a young white man prisoner, and 
 had just begun to torture him, for the sole purpose of 
 gratifying their curiosity in exulting at his distress. They 
 at first made him stand up, while they slowly pared his 
 ears, and split them into strings. They then made a 
 number of slight incisions in his face, and bound him on 
 the ground, rolled him in the dirt, and rubbed it in his 
 wounds ; some of them at the same time whipping him 
 with small rods. The poor fellow cried for mercy, and 
 yelled most piteously. 
 
 The sight of his distress seemed too much for me to 
 endure. I begged of them to desist — I entreated them, 
 with t«ars, to release him. At length they regarded my 
 intercessions, and set him at liberty. He was shockingly 
 disfigured, bled profusely, and appeared to be in great pain ; 
 but as soon as he was liberated, he made ofT in haste, 
 which was the last I saw of him. 
 
 We soon learned that the same party of Shawnees had, 
 but a few hours before, massacred the three white traders 
 whom we saw on the river, and had plundered their store. 
 We, however, were not molested by them ; and, after a 
 short stay at that place, moved up the creek about forty 
 miles to a Shawnee town, which the Indians called Gaw- 
 
76 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 gust-shaw-ga,* (which, heing interpreted, signifies a mask 
 or a false face.) The creek that we went up was called 
 Candusky. It was now summer ; and having tarried a 
 few days at Gawgushshawga, we moved on up the creek 
 to a place that was called Tish-kah-wa-na, (meaning, in 
 English, open mouth.) 
 
 As I have before observed, the family to which I be- 
 longed was part of a tribe of Seneca Indians, who lived 
 at that time at a place called Genishau, from the name of 
 the tribe that was situated on a river of the same name, 
 which is now called Genesee. The word Genishau signi- 
 fies a shining, clear, or open place.f Those of us who 
 lived on the Ohio had frequently received invitations from 
 those at Genishau , by one of my brothers who usually 
 went and returned every season, to come and live with 
 them ; and my two sisters had been gone almost two years. 
 
 While we were at Tishkahwana, my brother arrived 
 there from Genishau, and insisted so strenuously upon our 
 going home with him that my two brothers concluded to 
 go, and to take me with them. 
 
 * Oa-gb-sa, in the Seneca dialect, signifies " a false face," and G'ir 
 go-sa-ga " the place of the false face," which is doubtless the correct 
 orthography of this word. — [Ed. 
 
 f Genrtiia'-he^o is the true spelling. It signifies " the beaatiiul 
 valley," from which the river takes its name. The adjective uut-i/o, 
 which means " grand," or " beautiful," is incorporated in the word, 
 and thus determines its signification. — [Ed. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 77 
 
 By this time the summer was gone, and the time for 
 harvesting corn had arrived. My brothers, for fear of the 
 rainy season setting in early, thought it best to set out 
 immediately, that we might have good traveling. She- 
 ninjee consented to have me go with my brothers ; but 
 concluded to go down the river himself, with some fur 
 and skins which he had on hand, spend the winter hunting 
 with his friends, and come to me in the spring following. 
 
 That was accordingly agreed upon, and Sheninjee set 
 out for Wiishto ; and my three brothers and myself, with 
 my little son on my back, at the same time set out for 
 Genishau. We came on to Upper Sandusky, to an Indian 
 town which we found deserted by its inhabitants, in con- 
 sequence of their having recently murdered some English 
 traders, who resided among them. That town was owned 
 and had been occupied by Delaware Indians, who, when 
 they left it, buried their provisions in the earth, in order 
 to prevent their enemies enjoying them, or to have a 
 supply for themselves if they should chance to return. 
 My brothers understood the customs of the Indians when 
 they were obliged to fly from their enemies ; and, suspect- 
 ing that their corn, at least, must have been hid, made 
 diligent search, and at length found a large quantity of it, 
 together with beans, sugar, and honey, so carefully buried 
 that it was completely dry, and as good as when they 
 
 left it. As our stock of provisions was scanty, we con- 
 4 
 
78 LIFE OF MARY JEHISON. 
 
 sidered ourselves extremely fortunate in finding so season- 
 able a supply with so little trouble. Having caught two 
 or three horses that we found there, and famished our- 
 selves with a good store of food, we traveled on till we 
 came to the mouth of French creek, where we hunted 
 two days, and from thence came on to Oonnewango 
 creek, where we stayed eight or ten days, in consequence 
 of our horses having left us and strayed into the woods. 
 The horses, however, were found ; and we again prepared 
 to resume our journey. During our stay at that place 
 the rain fell fast, and had raised the creek to such a hight 
 that it was seemingly impossible for us to cross it. A 
 number of times we ventured in, but were compelled to 
 return, barely escaping with our lives. At length we 
 succeeded in swimming our horses, and reached the oppo- 
 site shore ; though I and my little boy but just escaped 
 from being drowned. From Sandusky, the path that we 
 traveled was crooked and obscure; but was tolerably 
 well understood by my oldest brother, who had traveled 
 it a number of times when going to and returning from 
 the Cherokee wars. The fall by this time was consider- 
 ably advanced, and the rains, attended with cold winds, 
 continued daily to increase the difiBculties of traveling. 
 From Connewango we came to a place, called by the 
 Indians Che-ua-shung-gau-tau, on the Alleghany River, at 
 the mouth of what is now called Cold Spring creek, in the 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 79 
 
 town of Napoli, Cattaraugus county, state of New York, 
 and from that to U-na-waum-gwa, or Tu-ne-un-gwan, 
 (which means an eddy, not strong,) where the early frosts 
 had destroyed the corn, so that the Indians were in 
 danger of starving for the want of bread. Having rested 
 ourselves two days at that place, we came on to Canea- 
 dea* and stayed one day, and then continued our march 
 until we arrived at Little Beard's Town, in Genishau, at 
 that time a large Seneca town, thickly inhabited. 
 
 Those only who have traveled on foot the distance of 
 five or six hundred miles, through an almost pathless 
 wUderness, can form any idea of the fatigue and suffer- 
 ings that I endured on that journey. My clothing was 
 thin, and illy calculated to defend me from the continually 
 drenching rains with which I was daily completely wet ; 
 and at night, with nothing but my wet blanket to cover 
 me, I had to sleep on the naked ground, and generally 
 without a shelter, save such as nature provided. In addi- 
 tion to all that, I had to carry my child, then about nine 
 months old, every step of the journey on my back, or in 
 my arms, and provide for his comfort and prevent his 
 suffering, as far as my poverty of means would admit. 
 Such was the fatigue that I sometimes felt, that I thought 
 it impossible for me to go through, and I would almost 
 
 * Caneadea is a well-preserved Seneca name. The original, O'd-b-y'd- 
 de-o, signifies " where the heavens rest upon the eai'th." — [Ed. 
 
80 
 
 LIFE OF MARY JEinSON. 
 
 abandon the idea of even trying to proceed. My brothers 
 were attentive, and at length, as I have stated, we reached 
 our place of destination, in good health, and without hav- 
 ing experienced a day's sickness from the time we left 
 Yishkahwana. 
 
 We were kindly received by my Indian mother and the 
 other members of the family, who appeared to make me 
 welcome ; and my two sisters, whom I had not seen in 
 two years, received me with every ezpression of love and 
 friendship ; and that they really felt what they expressed, 
 I have never had the least reason to doubt. The warmth 
 of their feelings, the kind reception which I met with, and 
 the continued favors that I received at their hands, riveted 
 my affection for them so strongly that I am constrained 
 to believe that I loved them as I should have loved my 
 own sister, had she lived, and had I been brought up 
 with her. 
 
 \ 
 
 Os-que-sont, or Tomahawk. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 8] 
 
 CHAPTER v.* 
 
 Geographical names — Dialects of the Iroquois — Little Beard's Town — 
 The Genesee Valley — Land slide — Gardeau Flats — Subsequently 
 Mary Jemison Reservation — Mount Morria — Big Tree Village — 
 Caneadea. 
 
 Having conducted the principal subject of our narra- 
 tive to Genishau, or Little Beard's Town.t on the banks 
 of Genesee Eiver, whereon, within the space of twelve 
 miles along that stream, she has since resided seventy-two 
 years of her life — this likewise being the ground on which 
 most of the scenes we are about to relate, whether of joy 
 or sorrow, pleasure or pain, whether ludicrous or horrible, 
 were enacted — we will give the reader a brief geograph- 
 ical sketch of the country, and point out the localities, 
 and those in the surrounding country, most of which have 
 already been, or will hereafter be, referred to in this 
 narrative. 
 
 It will be understood, that, in describing Indian villages, 
 
 * This chapter was added by Ebenezcr Mix, Esq. — [Ed. 
 
 f The name of Little Beard's Town was Be-o-nun^d'd-ga-a, signify- 
 ing "Where the hill is near." It was situated upon the west side of 
 the Genesee Valley, immediately in front of Cuylerville. — fEn. 
 
(^ 
 
 LIFE OF MAHY JEMISON. 
 
 etc., we have relation to their state then; for some of 
 them have long since been deserted by the Indians, and 
 demolished by the whites; and at this time, 1842, all 
 those on the Genesee Eiver have ceased to exist, scarce 
 leaving a memorial or trace to point out the spot on which 
 they stood. It will likewise be observed that the dis- 
 tances herein given are according to the Indian trails or 
 paths usually traveled by them in that early day. 
 
 A few remarks on Indian names and the Indian lan- 
 guage, in this place, may be serviceable to the reader 
 who is unacquainted with the significant properties of 
 Indian proper names, and the monotonous sounds and full 
 aspirations of the language of the Iroquois. It has been 
 often observed that a great discrepancy exists among 
 writers, not only in the spelling, but in the necessary 
 pronunciation of Indian names of the same persons or 
 places. It requires but a short explanation to elucidate 
 the cause of this difficulty. Among the Six Nations, not 
 only each nation converses in a different dialect, but each 
 tribe in the same nation have peculiarities in their lan- 
 guage not common in the other tribes, although probably 
 not varying more than the dialects in many of the counties 
 in England. 
 
 All Indian names, whether of persons or places, are 
 significant of some supposed quality, appearance, or local 
 situation; and the Indians having no written language 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 83 
 
 originally, denominated persons and places iu conformity 
 to such quality, etc., in their own dialect. 
 
 The better to be understood, we will mention a partic- 
 ular case or two, which will give a full explanation to 
 the position assumed : Eed Jacket, the celebrated Indian 
 orator, had six or seven different, and in some instances 
 very dissimilar Indian names, as written or spoken ; but 
 they all meant, in the dialect to which they belonged, 
 "Keeper Awake." The same remarks will apply to the 
 name of the creek which empties into Genesee Eiver, 
 near Mount Morris, generally called Canniskrauga,* 
 which has four or five other quite different Indian names, 
 all meaning the same, in English, to wit, " Among the 
 slippery-elms," as the creek bore the name of an Indian 
 village through which it passed, the village having been 
 named from its local situation. 
 
 These explanations were obtained some years since, 
 from the late Capt. Horatio Jones, who was one of the 
 best, if not the best Indian linguist in the country; and 
 his explanation had an influential bearing in an important 
 land trial, as that creek had been called by several very 
 different Indian names in the old title-deeds of large 
 tracts of land. In order to have a correct idea of the 
 
 *The name by which this creek and the village of Dansville is now 
 known to the Senecas is, Ga-mii-ga-go, signifying, "among the 
 milkweed." — [Ed. 
 
84 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 pronunciation of Indian names, they must be divided into 
 as many monosyllabical words as there are syllables, for 
 so they originally were, and an h added to almost every 
 syllable ending with a vowel. Therefore, as is the case 
 in the pronunciation of all sentences composed of words 
 of one syllable only, all difference of accent is destroyed, 
 and the Indians use very little difference of emphasis. 
 For example, take the original name of Oanandaigna, as 
 now spelled and pronounced in the Seneca language, 
 Cah-nan-dah-gwah. * 
 
 Formerly, in using Indian names, it was necessary to 
 pay some attention to the Indian pronunciation, so as to 
 be understood by the aborigines; but as they, together 
 with their languages, are fast fading from among us, that 
 necessity no longer exists. Therefore, it becomes neces- 
 sary to Anglicise such names, and make them conform to 
 the English pronunciation in as soft and smooth sounds 
 as possible, to which the letters composing the word, 
 when written, should be made to correspond. 
 
 Little Beard's Town, where Mary Jemison first resided 
 when she came to Genesee Eiver, was the most consider- 
 able Indian village, or town, in its vicinity. We have no 
 means at this time of ascertaining, or even estimating its 
 extent or population; but tradition, as well as Mary Jem- 
 
 * Od-nun-d&-gu}a, "a place selected for a settlement," is the preBent 
 spelling and pronunciation of this name. — [Ed. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 85 
 
 ison, informs us, that it covered a large territory for a Til- 
 lage, and that it was thickly populated. 
 
 Its chief, or ruler, was Little Beard — a strong-minded, 
 ambitious, and cruel man; and an arbitrary and despotic 
 ruler. 
 
 This village stood near the north end of the twelve 
 miles in length heretofore mentioned, on the Genesee 
 Flats, on the west side of the river, between the present 
 villages of Genesee and Moscow, about midway, 
 although nearest to Moscow, and near the site of the 
 new village of Cuyler, on the Genesee Valley Canal. 
 
 The tract of country around its site has the most 
 delightful appearance imaginable, considering there are 
 no lofty snow-clad peaks, deafening cataracts, or unfath- 
 omable dells, to stamp it with the appellation of romantic. 
 The alluvial flats through which the river meanders for 
 four or five miles above and many miles below are from 
 one mile to two miles wide, as level as a placid lake, and 
 as fertile, to say the least, as any land in this state. Thou- 
 sands of acres of these flats were cleared of their timber 
 when Indian tradition commences their description. 
 These flats are encompassed on each side by a rolling 
 country, gradually rising as it recedes from the river, but 
 in no place so abrupt as to merit the cognomen of a hill. 
 This was the terrestrial paradise of the Senecas ; and to 
 
 this tract they gave the name of Gen-ish-a-u, Chen-ne- 
 4* 
 
86 LIFE OP MARY JEMISON. 
 
 se-co, Gen-ne-se-0, or Gen-ne-see, as pronounced by the 
 different Indian tribes, and being interpreted, all meaning 
 substantially the same; to wit, Shining-Clear-Opening, 
 Pleasant-Clear-Opening, Clear-Valley, or Pleasant-Open- 
 Valley. From this favorite spot Genesee Eiver took its 
 name ; and these flats, at that early period, assumed and 
 still continue to retain exclusively the name of Genesee 
 Flats, as a distinction from Gardeau, Caneadea, and 
 other flats which bear local names although lying on the 
 same river. 
 
 Genesee River rises in Pennsylvania, and, after enter- 
 ing this state, pursues its course with some rapidity, a 
 little west of north, through a hilly country, forming 
 little, if any, alluvial flats, until it approaches Belvidere, 
 (Judge Church's villa near Angelica,) about twenty miles 
 from Pennsylvania line. From thence it continues the 
 same general course with less rapidity, winding its way 
 through flats of a greater or less width, to a point in 
 Caneadea, about thirty-three miles from Pennsylvania 
 line, following the general course of the river, whdre it 
 alters to east of north, which direction it pursues until it 
 falls into Lake Ontario. From Belvidere to this bow, or 
 rather angle in the river, and from the angle to the falls 
 below Portageville, the flats are enclosed on each side by 
 high lands, although not precipitous or lofty. The river 
 continues to run with moderate rapidity through fiats 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 87 
 
 from this angle to near Portageville, where the highlands 
 close in to the river banks. 
 
 At Portageville, about fifteen miles from the angle at 
 Caneadea, begin the great Portage Falls in this river. 
 From the upper falls to Mount Morris and Squawkie 
 Hilt, a distance of sixteen miles, the river runs through a 
 chasm, the sides of which are, the greater part of the dis- 
 tance, formed by solid, and almost, or quite, perpendicu- 
 lar walls of rock, from two to four hundred feet high. In 
 some places, however, these walls diverge so far from 
 each other as to allow spots of excellent alluvial flats to 
 be formed on one side of the river or the other, and in 
 some places on both. 
 
 Immediately above the upper falls there exists all the 
 appearance of a ridge of rock having once run across the 
 river, in which case it would have raised the water some 
 two hundred feet above its present level, and, of course, 
 formed a lake from one to two miles wide, and extending 
 back over the Caneadea and other flats, to Belvidere, a 
 distajice of twenty-eight or thirty miles ; but, if ever this 
 was the case, the river has, centuries ago, cut through 
 this ridge, and formed considerable rapids where it stood, 
 above and opposite Portageville. The river, after appar- 
 ently cutting through this ridge, precipitates itself into 
 the chasm below, by a somewhat broken, although what 
 would be termed perpendicular fall of sixty-six feet. The 
 
88 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 stream at this place is about twelve rods wide, after 
 whicli it flows through the chasm on a smooth rock bot- 
 tom. Half a mile below the upper falls, the river, (where 
 it is about fifteen rods wide,) again precipitates itself in 
 an unbroken sheet, one hundred and ten feet perpendicu- 
 larly into a deeper channel, forming the "Middle Falls." 
 The magnificence and beauty of these falls is not exceeded 
 by any thing of the kind in the state, except the cataract 
 of Niagara. On the west side of the river, at the top of 
 the falls, is a small flat piece of land, or rather rock, on 
 which is a saw-mill and several dwelling houses, which 
 can be approached, down a ravine fi-om the west, with 
 any kind of carriage. The stream pursues its course in 
 the same direction, pent within its rock-bound and pre- 
 cipitous shores, about two miles, where it takes its third 
 and last leap in this vicinity, of ninety-three feet, into a 
 still deeper chasm, the greater body of water falling on 
 the eastern side, where a portion of it falls into a kind of 
 hanging rock basin, about one-third of the distance down, 
 and then takes another leap. This fall can be approached 
 on the east side by pedestrians with perfect safety. 
 
 The river then pursues its north-eastern course, through 
 its deep and narrow channel, to Gardeau Flats, about five 
 miles from the lower falls. The banks of the river, or 
 rather the land bordering on the chasm the greater por- 
 tion cf this distance, is covered with elesrant white and 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 89 
 
 Norway pine. At the upper end of the Gardeau Flats ia 
 the Great Slide, which has been so often noticed as a 
 great curiosity. 
 
 In the month of May, 1817, a portion of the land on 
 the west side of the river, thickly covered with heavy 
 timber, suddenly gave way, and with a tremendous crash 
 slid into the bed of the river, which is so completely filled 
 that the stream formed a new channel on the east side of 
 it, where it continues to run. This slide, as it now lies, 
 contains twenty-two acres, and has a considerable share 
 of the timber that formerly covered it still standing erect 
 and growing, although it has suffered the shook produced 
 by a fall of some two hundred feet below its former 
 elevation. 
 
 The Gardeau Flats are from eighty to one huadred and 
 twenty rods wide, and extend two miles and a quarter 
 down the river, lying mostly on the west side of it. There 
 are several ravines and depressions in the high banks on 
 both sides of the river at the upper end of these flats, so 
 that a road has been made which admits the passage of 
 carriages from the highlands on one side of the river to 
 the highlands on the other, a bridge having been erected 
 across the river : this place above the slide is called St. 
 Helena. Some four miles below St. Helena is Smoky 
 Hollow, containing from two to three hundred acres of 
 alluvJAl flats, approachable from the west only with safety, 
 
90 hlFK or MAIIY ./I'.MIHON. 
 
 and in that 'Jircction ihniMi/ln a ravirn; arid dov/n a f'.t,<-^,p 
 declivity: this was within Mre, Jf-n/is'orrH ori{.;irial rcHcr- 
 vation. Below this place thrw; or foar jnilfH, thf; rlvCT 
 rcccivfjH the outlet of Silver Lake.* 'Jliin lake or j/ond 
 is a beautiful pellueid .nbeet of watCT, three and a half 
 rnile,", long, and from half to three-fotirths of a mil*; in 
 breadth, lying about four mile,-', west of, and ''.everal hun- 
 dred feet above the C/Wie-iee Itiver, thi-rchy cr<:at,ing a 
 vast water-jiov/er for ho small a stream. 
 
 Some lYiHia.nf.i; b<;1ow 111'; entrance of the outlet of 
 Silver Lake into the river, is from t^/nnty U) twenty-five 
 ay;reH of alluvial flaf^ in a piTfi-.cA. dell, it was [iureha>:ed 
 many years ago by a man who now r'-Hides on it, although 
 Ilia land extend,^, over the high bank, and includes hand- 
 s<)nie level land there. It is cat^mu that he and his 
 family do go in and out of thi.H dell, and that be get« in 
 cattle and other domcHtic anirnal;; ; hut, it wonld te:-;t the 
 science of an engineer U> a>'.cerfain hov/ he effecf.s it,. 
 
 At the distance of eleven rniles from St, lli;]i;Tih. is 
 .Mount Morri.t^.f on the right, or eastern ?,ide of the river, 
 and Sqnawkie If ill on the left or western. 'Jliese are not 
 ir)OTint.ain.», or even bill«, within the fy;r/,mou •a.'-.f^pU.jKin 
 
 f T>it nam* of M',.j.-.t Morr;.?, ir, rtie H^i*^^ 'JwJft',-?,, wax ff<,-ru>'-jo- 
 Kiin^ja. TfiiJ waa tfi<; Mroft of i;!;' K«rf,t>, ar, imtt/rr r,'A )<3W datin- 
 %iuA^ amwig th% %Ktivt>iik >Mti lu-.'l Ja«V«t hlmv^lf,^ ' Kt,. 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-mS. 91 
 
 of flie words, bnt merely a desooit of two or three Inm- 
 dred feet, and thai not abnipt, nor is its existence in set 
 particniar line of demarkation observable, from the npper 
 plateau of land tbrongh wbidi the depressed cbaanel of 
 G«iesee Biver nms down to Gen^ee Mats. 
 
 Ftoiq Mount Morris and SquawMe Hill, where the 
 rirer di^oigra itself rrom tbe ihraldom of its locky aid 
 precipitLiis banks, it moves slowly, taMog a seipentme 
 cwnrse tbrongji the Goiesee and other flats: the hjgh 
 grounds on each side giadnafly diminishiag in Mirht, and 
 flie alliiTial fiats decreasing in width in prcpordon. nntil 
 the stream merely floi'irs in Ik stallLi'H" ehannel through i 
 champaign coimizy, before it reaches the great Mis at 
 Sodiester, near forty miles from Monnt Morris, where, 
 after passing the rapids, it fells ninety-srs: feet peTj>eii- 
 dienlarly into a chasm below, throngh which it fiows 
 one tiii a half miles farther, and then passes two 
 more p^p^dicnlaT &IIs, within a short distance of each 
 other, the upper one of trwenty-five feet, aid the lower of 
 eighty-four feet. At the foot of these falls the riTei be- 
 comes naTigable for steamboais. and runs sluggishly five 
 miles through a deep raTice a ponion of the way To its 
 month, where it disembognes itself into Laie Ontario. 
 
 Bigtree* village, which bore ibe name of one of its chiefs, 
 
 * The weird OSTtmr^h-wia-na, wWdi iras tte nazne of f^is TjHsge, 
 i^mfieB a. "big tree." — [Ed. 
 
92 LIFE OF MAKT JEMISON. 
 
 was a small village lying a mile and a half north of Little 
 Beard's Town. Ten miles still further down the river 
 was situated Cannewagus* village, a place of some note 
 for a sub-village. This was the residence of the patriarch 
 Hot Bread. 
 
 Tonawanda Indian village, whose inhabitants have 
 always been remarkable for their peaceable and quiet dis- 
 position, is situated on the Tonawanda creek, about forty 
 miles north-west of Little Beard's Town, on the great 
 Indian trail from oast to west passing through this 
 country. The Great Bend of the Tonawanda creek, be- 
 tween Little Beard's Town and the Tonawanda village, 
 where the village of Batavia now stands, was a noted 
 camping-ground for the Indians while passing to and fro 
 on this trail. Still further north-west, thirty-two miles 
 from Tonawanda village, is Tuscarora village, inhabited 
 by the most civilized, agricultural, mechanical, and com- 
 mercial tribe of the Six Nations. Lewiston is three miles 
 west of Tuscarora village, and Fort Niagara is seven 
 
 • The Iroquois still retain their goograpliical names with great 
 fidelity. As their proper narace are descriptive, they still form a part 
 of their language. Wherever an American village sprang up on one 
 of their known localities, the name of the old village was immediately 
 transferred to the new, and down to the present time the Iroquois still 
 call them by their original names. Thus, O'd-no-wan-r/es, signifying 
 "Stinking Water." The name of this Indian village was transferred 
 lo Avon, by which it is still known among them. — [Ed. 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 93 
 
 miles north of Lewiston, making the whole route from 
 Little Beard's Town to Fort Niagara, following this trail, 
 eighty -two miles. From Lewiston seven miles south was 
 Fort Schlosser, a mere stockade fort ; the Devil's Hole 
 being about midway between those two points. Fort 
 Schlosser was at the northern termination of the navi- 
 gable waters of the Niagara Eiver above the falls ; and 
 this seven miles from Lewiston to Schlosser was the 
 only place requiring land transportation for men, stores, 
 or merchandise, from Quebec to Fort Mackinaw, or in- 
 deed, from the Atlantic Ocean to the end of Lake Supe- 
 rior. These forts, therefore, Niagara and Schlosser, were 
 considered very important by the contending parties in 
 olden times, the French and the English. 
 
 From Tonawanda village about twenty-five miles south- 
 westerly lies the first Indian village on the Buffalo 
 creek, along which and its several branches there are a 
 number of Indian villages and single wigwams. Up the 
 shore of Lake Erie in a south-western direction, about 
 thirty-five miles from Buffalo creek, is the village of Cat- 
 taraugus, situated on the creek of the same name, two or 
 three miles from its mouth, being about one hundred 
 miles from Little Beard's Town, following this circuitous 
 trail, which was the one always traveled by the Indians, 
 unless an experienced runner took a shorter cut, at his 
 own hazard, in a case of emergency. 
 
94 LIKE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 East of Little Beard's Town are Conesus, Hemlock, 
 Candice, Honeoye, Canandaigua, and Seneca lakes ; five 
 miles west of the foot of the latter stood the famous In- 
 dian and tory head-quarters, called the "Old Castle." 
 The foot of Canandaigua Lake is about ten miles west of 
 the Old Castle, and thirty-four miles east of Little Beard's 
 Town. 
 
 The Indian village of Can-ne-skrau-gah, meaning 
 "among the slippery-elms," was situated about four- 
 teen miles south-easterly of Mount Morris, on a creek of 
 the same name, which empties into Genesee River near 
 the latter place. This village stood on or near the 
 ground now occupied by the village of Dansville. East 
 of the junction of Genesee River and Canncskraugah 
 creek, extending some distance up the river and down the 
 river, was a sparsely-settled Indian village or settlement, 
 which appeared to be a kind of suburb of GenLshau, or 
 Little Beard's Town.* 
 
 Squawkie Hill village, lying about two miles south of 
 Little Beard's Town, was a great resort for the Indians 
 
 • Dayijo' -it-ga-o, the name of thia village, means " Where the river 
 iKsneg from the hills." It deacribeg the place where the Geneaee 
 Eiver emerges from between two narrow walls of rock, and enters the 
 broad valley of the Genesff;. Thia valley, scparatiiig itself from the 
 river at this point, extends np to Dangville, and the Canescrauga 
 creek flows through it. — [Ed. 
 
DEll-HE-Vri-illS. 95 
 
 to enjoy their sportiye games, gymnastic feats, and ciyio 
 festivals. 
 
 Caneadea Indian village, or rather villages, were situ- 
 ated up the Genesee Eiver on the Caneadea Flats, he- 
 ginning at the mouth of "Wiscoy, meaning 'Many Fall," 
 creek, twenty miles from Mount MoiTis. and extending up 
 the river, at intervals, eight or nine miles, nearly to the 
 great angle in the river. From the southern end of Can- 
 neadea Indian settlement south-westerly about forty-five 
 miles, on the Alleghany Eiver, is the small Indian village 
 called hy Mrs. Jemison U-na-waum-gwa, but now known 
 as Tu-ne-un-gwan. Further down the river is Kill Buck's 
 Town, at the mouth of Great Valley creek, and Buck 
 Tooth's Town, at the mouth of Little Valley creek. 
 Below these is Che-na-shung-gan-tan or Te-ush-un-nsh-nn- 
 gau-tau, being at the mouth of what is now called Cold 
 Spring creek, in the town of Napoli, Cattaraugus countj-, 
 X. T. This vaiage is about eighteen miles below Tune- 
 ungwan. Below these are several Indian settlements 
 along the river, the most considerable of which is Corn- 
 planter's settlement, extending several miles along the 
 river, Complanter himself being located near the center. 
 
 Of the population of the several Indian villages and 
 settlements at the time Mrs. Jemison emigrated to this 
 section of country, we can make no estimate ; and even 
 in latter years, so wandering are the habits of the Indians 
 
96 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 that a village may be filled to overflowing, apparently, 
 with residents, one month, and be almost depopulated the 
 next. Their manner of lodging, cooking, and eating, 
 greatly facilitates their migratory propensities, as one 
 large cabin will as well accommodate fifty as five. A 
 deer-skin for a bed, a large kettle for a boiler, hot ashes 
 or embers for an oven, a bark trough for a soup-dish and 
 platter, a chip for a plate, a knife, (which each carries,) 
 a sharp stick for a fork, and, perhaps, a wooden spoon and 
 tin cup, comprehend a complete set of household furni- 
 ture, cooking and eating utensils. Even at this day, the 
 only time the number of individuals who compose a tribe 
 is Imown, or pretended to be known, is when they are 
 about to receive their annuities ; and it is then impossible 
 to ascertain a " local habitation or a name" for but few 
 of the individuals for whom annuities are drawn as be- 
 longing to such a tribe. 
 
 The following statement of the numbers and location 
 of the Indians composing the Six Nations, in 1823, is a 
 specimen of the precision adopted in the transaction of 
 our public business relative to Indian affairs. This ac- 
 count was obtained firom Captain Horatio Jones, who 
 was the United States agent for paying the annuities to 
 the Six Nations. 
 
 The individuals belonging to the Six Nations, in the 
 state of New York, are located on their reservations froro 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 
 
 97 
 
 Oneida Lake westward to Lake Erie and Alleghany 
 River, and amount to five thousand. Those located in 
 Ohio on the Sandusky Eiver amount to six hundred and 
 eighty-eight, to wit : three hundred and eighty Cayugas, 
 one hundred Senecas, sixty-four Mohawks, sixty-four 
 Oneidas, and eighty Onondagas. The bulk of the Mo- 
 hawks, together with some of each of the other five na- 
 tions, reside on the Grand Eiver, in Upper Canada. 
 
 '^to?*. 
 
 ^r-T-^— -^-';-. 
 
 T n"-'- ■ 
 
 
 Ga-no-sote, or Bark House. 
 
98 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Indiana march to fight the British — Return with cattle and prison- 
 era — Two prisoners burned — An Indian woman's eloquence — 
 Tragedy of the " Devil's Hole " — Death of She-nan-jee — Attempt 
 to take Mary to Niagara by force — She marries Ui-ok-a-too — Her 
 children — Loss of a daughter. 
 
 When we arrived at Genishau, the Indians of that 
 tribe were making active preparations for joining the 
 French, in order to assist them in retaking Fort Ne-a- 
 gaw,* (as Fort Erie was called in the Seneca language,) 
 from the British, who had taken it from the French in the 
 month preceding. They marched off the next day after 
 our arrival, painted and accoutered in all the habiliments 
 of Indian warfare, determined on death or victory ; and 
 joined the army in season to assist in accomplishing a 
 plan that had been previously concerted for the destruc- 
 tion of a part of the British army. The British, feeling 
 themselves secure in the possession of Fort Neagaw, and 
 
 * The Seneca name of the Niagara River, and of Lake Ontario, was 
 Ne-ah'-ga. They derived this name from a locality near the site of 
 Youngstown, in the vicinity of which is the present Fort Niagara. Oui 
 present name Niagara, is derived from this word. — FEd. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 99 
 
 unwilling that their enemies should occupy any of the 
 military posts in that quarter, determined to take Fort 
 Schlosser — lying a few miles up the river from Nea- 
 gaw — which they expected to effect with but little loss. 
 Accordingly, a detachment of soldiers, sufficiently numer- 
 ous, as was supposed, was sent out to take it, leaving a 
 strong garrison in the fort ; and marched off, well prepared 
 to effect their object. But on their way they were sur- 
 rounded by the French and Indians, who lay in ambush 
 to receive them, and were driven back with great loss. 
 Our Indians were absent but a few days, and returned in 
 triumph, bringing with them two white prisoners, and a 
 number of oxen. Those were the first neat cattle that 
 were ever brought to Genesee Flats. 
 
 The next day after their return to Genishau was set 
 apart as a day of feasting and frolicking, at the expense 
 of the lives of their two unfortunate prisoners on whom 
 they proposed to glut their revenge, and satisfy their 
 love for retaliation upon their enemies. My sister was 
 anxious to attend the execution, and to take me with her 
 to witness the customs of the warriors, as it was one of 
 the highest kind of frolics ever celebrated in their tribe, 
 and one that was not often attended with so much pomp 
 and parade as it was expected that would be. I felt a 
 kind of anxiety to witness the scene, having never at- 
 tended an execution; and yet I felt a kind of horrid 
 
lOO) LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 dread that made my teart revolt, and inclined me to step 
 back, rather than support the idea of advancing. On the 
 morning of the execution, she made her intention of go- 
 ing to the frolic and taking me with her known to our 
 mother, who, in the most feeling terms, remonstrated 
 against a step at once so rash and unbecoming the true 
 dignity of our sex. 
 
 " How, my daughter," said she, addressing my sister, 
 " how can you even think of attending the feast, and see- 
 ing the unspeakable torments that those poor, unfortunate 
 prisoners must inevitably suffer from the hands of our 
 warriors ? How can you stand and see them writhing in 
 the warrior's fire, in all the agonies of a slow and lingering 
 death 1 How can you think of enduring the sound of 
 their groanings, and prayers to the Great Spirit for sud- 
 den deliverance from their enemies, or from life ] And 
 now can you think of conducting to that melancholy spot 
 j'our poor sister Deh-he-wa-mis, (meaning myself,) who 
 has so lately been a prisoner ; who has lost her parents 
 and brothers by the hands of the bloody warriors ; and 
 who has felt all the horrors of the loss of her freedom, in 
 lonesome captivity 1 Oh ! how can you think of making 
 tier bleed at the wounds which are now but partially 
 nealed 1 The recollection of her former troubles would 
 deprive us of Deh-he-wa-mis, and she would depart to 
 the fields of the blessed, where fighting has ceased, and 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 101 
 
 the corn needs no tending — where hunting is easy, the 
 forests delightful, the summers are pleasant, and the win- 
 ters are mild ! Oh ! think once, my daughter, how soon 
 you may have a brave brother made prisoner in battle, 
 and sacrificed to feast the ambition of the enemies of hia 
 kindred, and leave us to mourn for the loss of a friend, a 
 son, and a brother, whose bow brought us venison, and 
 supplied us with blankets! Our task is quite easy at 
 home, and our business needs our attention. With war 
 we have nothing to do : our husbands and brothers are 
 proud to defend us, and their hearts beat with ardor to 
 meet our proud foes. Oh! stay, then, my daughter: 
 let our warriors alone perform on their victims their cus- 
 toms of war! " 
 
 This speech of our mother had the desired effect ; we 
 stayed at home, and attended to our domestic concerns. 
 The prisoners, however, were executed, by having their 
 heads taken off, their bodies cut in pieces and shockingly 
 mangled, and then burnt to ashes. They were burnt on 
 the north side of Fallbrook, directly opposite the town, 
 which was on the south side, some time in the month of 
 November, 1759. 
 
 Our Indians were also among those who lay in ambush 
 on the Niagara Eiver to intercept a party of the British 
 who were guarding a quantity of baggage from Lewiston 
 to Fort Schlosser. When the British party arrived at 
 
102 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 the designated point, the Indians arose from their ambush, 
 and drove the British off the bank of the river, into a 
 place called the Devil's Hole, together with their horses, 
 carriages, and loading, and everything belonging to the 
 party. Not a man escaped being driven off ; and of the 
 whole number, one only was fortunate enough to escape 
 with life. 
 
 I spent the winter comfortably, and as agreeably as I 
 could have expected in the absence of my kind husband 
 Spring at length appeared, but Sheninjee was yet away ; 
 summer came on, but my husband had not found me. 
 Fearful forebodings haunted my imagination ; yet I felt 
 confident that his affection for me was so great that if he 
 was alive he would follow me, and I should again see 
 him. In the course of the summer, however, I received 
 intelligence that soon after he left me at Yiskahwana he 
 was taken sick, and died at Wiishto. This was a heavy 
 and unexpected blow. I was now in my youthful days, 
 left a widow, with one son, and was entirely dependent on 
 myself for his and my support. My mother and her fam- 
 ily gave me all the consolation in their power; and in a 
 few months my grief wore off, and I became contented. 
 
 In a year or two after this, according to my best recol- 
 lection of the time, the king of England offered a bounty 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 103 
 
 to those who would bring in the prisoners that had been 
 taken in that war to some military post, where they 
 might be redeemed, and set at liberty. 
 
 John Van Sice, a Dutchman, who had frequently been 
 at our place, and was well acquainted with every prisoner 
 at Genishau, resolved to take me to Niagara, that I 
 might there receive my liberty, and he the offered bounty. 
 I was notified of his intention ; but as I was fully deter- 
 mined not to be redeemed at that time, especially with 
 his assistance, I carefully watched his movements, in 
 order to avoid falling into his hands. It so happened, 
 however, that he saw me alone at work in a cornfield, and 
 thinking, probably, that he could secure me easily, ran 
 toward me in great haste. I espied him at some distance, 
 and well knowing the intent of his errand, run from him 
 with all the speed I was mistress of, and never once 
 stopped till I reached Gardeau. He gave up the chase, 
 and returned; but I, fearing that he might be lying in 
 wait for me, stayed three days and three nights in an old 
 cabin at Gardeau; and then went back, trembling at 
 every step, for fear of being apprehended. I got home 
 without difficulty; and soon after, the chiefs in council 
 having learned the cause of my elopement, gave orders 
 that I should not be taken to any military post without 
 my consent; and that, as it was my choice to stay, I 
 should live among them quietly and undisturbed. But 
 
104 LIFE OF MAKT JEMISON. 
 
 notwithstanding the will of the chiefs, it was but a few 
 days before, the old king of our tribe told one of my In- 
 dian brothers that I should be redeemed, and he would 
 take me to Niagara himself. In reply to the old king,* 
 my brother said that I should not be given up ; but that, 
 as it was my wish, I should stay with the tribe as long as 
 I was pleased to. Upon this a serious quarrel ensued be- 
 tween them, in which my brother frankly told him that 
 sooner than I should be taken by force, he would kill me 
 with his own hands. Highly enraged at the old king, my 
 brother came to my sister's house, where I resided, and 
 informed her of all that had passed respecting me ; and 
 
 * There is no propriety whatever in calling any of the Seneca chiefs 
 by this title. The nation was originally governed by eight sachems, 
 all of whom were equal in rank and authority; and the title was 
 hereditary in the tribe, although not strictly in the family of the indi- 
 vidual. The son could never succeed his father, because the father 
 and son were always of different tribes. There were eight tribes in the 
 Seneca nation — the Wolf, Bear, Beaver, Deer, Turtle, Snipe, Heron, 
 and Hawk. 
 
 No man was allowed to marry into his own tribe; and the children 
 were of the tribe of the mother. The title being hereditary in the 
 tribe, the son was thereby excluded from the succession. 
 
 At a later day, a class of chiefs were created subordinate to the 
 sachems ; but in course of time they came to have an equal voice with 
 the sachems in the administration of the affaii-s of the nation. The 
 office was elective, and for life, and was not hereditary. To this day 
 they have the eight sachems, still holding by the ancient tenure, and 
 about seventy chiefs. — [Ed. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 10-5 
 
 that, if the old king should attempt to take me, as he 
 firmly believed he would, he would immediately take my 
 life, and hazard the consequences. He returned to the 
 old king. As soon as I came in, my sister told me what 
 she had just heard, and what she expected without doubt 
 would befall me. Full of pity, and anxious for my pre- 
 servation, she then directed me to take my child, and go 
 into some high weeds at no great distance from the house, 
 and there hide myself, and lay still till all was silent in 
 the house; for my brother, she said, would return at 
 evening, and let her know the fina} conclusion of the mat- 
 ter, of which she promised to inform me in the following 
 manner : If I was to be killed, she said she would bake 
 a small cake, and lay it at the door, on the outside, in a 
 place that she then pointed out to me. When all was 
 silent in the house, I was to creep softly to the door, 
 and if the cake could not be found in the place specified, 
 I was to go in ; but if the cake was there, I was to take 
 my child, and go as fast as I possibly could, to a large 
 spring on the south side of Samp's creek, (a place that 
 I had often seen,) and there wait till I should, by some 
 means, hear from her. 
 
 Alarmed for my own safety, I instantly followed her 
 advice, and went into the weeds ; where I lay in a state 
 of the greatest anxiety till all was silent in the house, 
 when I crept to the door, and there found, to my great 
 
106 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 distress, the little cake. I knew my fate was fixed, un- 
 less I could keep secreted till the storm was over ; and ac- 
 cordingly crept back to the weeds where my little Thomas 
 lay, took him on my back, and laid my course for the 
 spring as fast as my legs would carry me. Thomas was 
 nearly three years old, and very large and heavy. I got 
 to the spring early in the morning, almost overcome with 
 fatigue; and at the same time fearing that I might be 
 pursued and taken, I felt my life an almost insupportable 
 burden. I sat down with my child at the spring, and he 
 and I made a breakfast of the little cake, and water ol 
 the spring, which I dipped and supped with the only im- 
 plement which I possessed — my hand. On the morning 
 after I fled, as was expected, the old king came to our 
 house in search of me, to take me off; but as I was not 
 to be found, he gave me up, and went to Niagara with 
 the prisoners he had already got into his possession. 
 
 As soon as the old king was fairly out of the way, my 
 sister told my brother where he could find me. He im- 
 mediately set out for the spring, and found me about 
 noon. The first sight of him made me tremble with the 
 fear of death; but when he came near — so near that I 
 could discover his countenance — tears of joy flowed 
 down my cheeks, and I felt a kind of instant relief, such 
 as no one can possibly experience, unless when under the 
 absolute sentence of death he receives an unlimited 
 pardon, 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 107 
 
 We were both rejoiced at the failure of the old king's 
 project; and after staying at the spring through the 
 night, set out together for home early in the morning. 
 When we got to a cornfield near the town, my brother 
 secreted me till he could go and ascertain how my case 
 stood ; and finding that the old king was absent, and that 
 all was peaceable, he returned to me, and I went home 
 joyfully. 
 
 Not long after this, my mother went to Johnstown, on 
 the Mohawk River, with five prisoners, who were redeemed 
 by Sir William Johnson, and set at liberty. 
 
 When my son Thomas was three or four years old, I 
 was married to an Indian, whose name was Hiokatoo, 
 commonly called Gardeau, by whom I had four daughters 
 and two sons. I named my children, principally, after 
 my relatives from whom I was parted, by calling my girls 
 Jane, Nancy, Betsey, and Polly, and the boys John and 
 Jesse. Jane died about twenty-nine years ago, in the 
 month of August, a little before the great council at Big 
 Tree, aged about fifteen years. My other daughters are 
 yet living, and have families. 
 
lOS LIFE OP MAKT JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Peace among the Indians — Their happy state — Troubles between 
 England and the Colonies — Treaty with the Colonies — Iroquois 
 agree to remain neutral — Treaty with the British — Join them 
 against the Americans — Bounty for scalps — Four female prison- 
 ers — Battle of Fort Stanwlx — Indian loss — Butler and Brandt. 
 
 After the conclusion of the French war, our tribe had 
 nothing to do till the commencement of the American 
 Revolution. For twelve or fifteen years, the use of the 
 implements of war was not known, nor the warwhoop 
 heard, save on days of festivity, when the achievements 
 of former times were commemorated in a kind of mimic 
 warfare, in which the chiefs and warriors displayed their 
 prowess, and illustrated their former adroitness, by laying 
 the ambuscade, surprising their enemies, and performing 
 many accurate manoeuvers with the tomahawk and scalp- 
 ing knife ; thereby preserving, and handing to their 
 children, the theory of Indian warfare. During that 
 period they also pertinaciously observed the religious 
 rites of their progenitors, by attending with the most 
 scrupulous exactness, and a great degree of enthusiasm, 
 to the sacrifices, at particular times, to appease the anger 
 
YOUNG SENECA WARRIOR. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. (ii?^ 
 
 of the Evil Deity ; or to excite the commiseration of the 
 Great Good Spirit, whom they adored with reverence, as 
 the author, governor, supporter, and disposer of every 
 good thing of which they participated. 
 
 They also practiced in various athletic games, such as 
 running, wrestling, leaping, and playing ball, with a view 
 that their bodies might be more supple — or, rather, that 
 they might not become enervated, and that they might 
 be enabled to make a proper selection of chiefs for the 
 councils of the nation, and leaders for war. 
 
 While the Indians were thus engaged in their round of 
 traditionary performances, with the addition of hunting, 
 their women attended to agriculture, their families, and a 
 few domestic concerns of small consequence and attended 
 with but little labor. 
 
 No people can live more happy than the Indians did in 
 
 times of peace, before the introduction of spiritous liquors 
 
 among them. Their lives were a continual round of 
 
 pleasures. Their wants were few, and easily satisfied, 
 
 and their cares were only for to-day — the bounds of 
 
 their calculation for future comfort not extending to the 
 
 incalculable uncertainties of to-morrow. If peace ever 
 
 dwelt with men, it was in former times, in the recess from 
 
 war, among what are now termed barbarians. The moral 
 
 character of the Indians was (if I may be allowed the 
 
 expression) uncontaminated. Their fidelity was perfect, 
 5* 
 
Ua LIFE OP MARY JEMISON. 
 
 and became proverbial. They were strictly honest ; they 
 despised deception and falsehood ; and chastity was held 
 in high veneration, and a violation of it was considered 
 sacrilege. They were temperate in their desires, moderate 
 in their passions, and candid and honorable in the ex- 
 pression of their sentiments, on every subject of importance. 
 
 Thus, at peace among themselves and with the neigh- 
 boring whites — though there were none at that time very 
 near — our Indians lived quietly and peaceably at home, 
 till a little before the breaking out of the Kevolutionary 
 War, when they were sent for, together with the chiefs, 
 and members of the Six Nations generally, by the people 
 of the states, to go to the German Flats,* and there hold 
 a general council, in order that the people of the states 
 might ascertain, in good season, who they should esteem 
 and treat as enemies, and who as friends, in the great war 
 which was then upon the point of breaking out between 
 them and the king of England. 
 
 Our Indians obeyed the call, and the council was 
 holden, at which the pipe of peace was smoked, and a 
 treaty made, in which the Six Nations solemnly agreed 
 that, if a war should eventually break out, they would not 
 take up arms on either side ; but that they would observe 
 a strict neutrality. With that the people of the states 
 were satisfied, as they had not asked their assistance, nor 
 did they wish it. The Indians returned to their homes 
 
 * The council between the commissioners of the twelve United Colo- 
 nies and the Six Nations convened at German Flats Aug. 15 and 16, 1776, 
 and concluded its sittings at Albany Sspt 1st. — [Ed. Sixth Edition. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 113 
 
 well pleased that they could live on neutral ground, sur- 
 rounded by the din of war, without being engaged in it. 
 
 About a year passed off, and we, as usual, were enjoy- 
 ing ourselves in the employments of peaceable times, when 
 a messenger arrived from the British commissioners, 
 requesting all the Indians of our tribe to attend a general 
 counoil which was soon to be held at Oswego. The 
 council convened, and being opened, the British com- 
 missioners informed the chiefs that the object of calling a 
 council of the Six Nations was to engage their assistance 
 in subduing the rebels — the people of the states, who 
 had risen up against the good king, their master, and were 
 about to rob him of a great part of his possessions and 
 wealth — and added that they would amply reward them 
 for their services. 
 
 The chiefs then arose, and informed the commissioners 
 of the nature and extent of the treaty which they had 
 entered into with the people of the states, the year before ; 
 and that they should not violate it by taking up the 
 hatchet against them. 
 
 The commissioners continued their entreaties without 
 success, till they addressed their avarice, by telling our 
 people that the people of the states were few in number, 
 and easily subdued; and that, on the account of their 
 disobedience to the king, they justly merited all the 
 punishment that it was possible for white men and Indians 
 
114 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 to inflict upon them ; and added, that the king was rich 
 and powerful, both in money and subjects ; that his rum 
 was as plenty as the water in Lake Ontario ; that his men 
 were as numerous as the sands upon the lake shore ; and 
 that the Indians, if they would assist in the war, and per 
 severe in their friendship to the king tiU it was closed, 
 should never want for money or goods. Upon tiiis the 
 chiefs concluded a treaty with the British commissioners, 
 in which they agreed to take up arms against the rebels, 
 and continue in the service of his majesty till they were 
 subdued, in consideration of certain conditions which were 
 stipulated in the treaty to be performed by the British 
 government and its agents* 
 
 As soon as the treaty was finished, the commissioners 
 made a present to each Indian of a suit of clothes, a brass 
 kettle, a gun, and tomahawk, a scalping-knife, a quantity 
 of powder and lead, a piece of gold, and promised a 
 bounty on every scalp that should be brought in. Thus 
 richly clad and equipped, they returned home, after an 
 absence of about two weeks, full of the fire of war, and 
 anxious to encounter their enemies. Many of the kettles 
 
 * Unanimity was a fundamental law of the Iroquois civil polity. 
 When the question of joining the English came before the council of 
 the League, the Oneidas refused to concur, and thus defeated the 
 measure ; but it was agreed that each nation might engage in it upon 
 its own responsibility. It was impossible to keep the Mohawks from 
 the English alliance. — [En. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 115 
 
 which the Indians received at that time are now in use 
 on the Genesee Flats. 
 
 Hired to commit depredations upon the whites, who 
 had given them no offense, they waited impatiently to 
 commence their labor, till sometime in the spring of 1776, 
 when a convenient opportunity offered for them to make 
 an attack. At that time a party of our Indians were at 
 Oau-te-ga, who shot a man that was looking after his 
 horse, for the sole purpose, as I was informed by my 
 Indian brother, who was present, of commencing hos- 
 tilities. In May following, our Indians were in the first 
 battle with the Americans ; but at what place I am un- 
 able to determine. While they were absent at that time, 
 my daughter Nancy was born. 
 
 The same year, at Cherry Valley, our Indians took a 
 woman and her three daughters prisoners, and brought 
 them on, leaving one at Canandaigua, one at Honeoye, 
 one at Cattaraugus, and one (the woman) at Little Beard's 
 Town, where I resided. The woman told me that she 
 and her daughters might have escaped, but that they 
 expected the British army only, and therefore made no 
 effort. Her husband and sons got away. After some 
 time, they were all taken to Fort Niagara, where they 
 were redeemed by Col. Butler, well clothed, and sent 
 home — except one daughter, who was married to a 
 British officer at the fort, by the name of Johnson. 
 
116 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 Johnson was of the party who captured her; at which 
 time he very unceremoniously took from her finger a gold 
 ring, and appropriated it to his own use. When he saw 
 her again at Niagara, he recognized her, restored the ring 
 so impolitely borrowed, courted and married her; and 
 although the marriage ceremony was celebrated in a 
 wilderness, far from the rendezvous of civilized society, 
 and destitute of the facilities of obtaining the elegances, 
 conveniences, or even the necessaries of life, they were 
 singularly provided with a wedding-ring. 
 
 In the same expedition, Joseph Smith was taken pris- 
 oner at or near Cherry Valley, brought to Genesee, and 
 detained till after the Revolutionary War. He was then 
 liberated ; and the Indians made him a present, in com- 
 pany with Horatio Jones, of six thousand acres of land, 
 lying in the present town of Leicester, in the county of 
 Livingston. 
 
 Previous to the battle of Fort Stanwix, the British 
 sent for the Indians to come and see them whip the rebels; 
 and at the same time stated that they did not wish to 
 have them fight, but wanted to have them just sit down, 
 smoke their pipes, and look on. Our Indians went, to a 
 man ; but, contrary to their expectation, instead of smok- 
 ing and looking on, they were obliged to fight for their 
 lives ; and in the end of the battle were completely 
 beaten, with a great loss in killed and wounded. Our 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MiS. 
 
 117 
 
 Indians alone had thirty-six killed, and a great number 
 wounded. Our town exhibited a scene of real sorrow and 
 distress, when our warriors returned, recounted their mis- 
 fortunes, and stated the real loss they had sustained in 
 the engagement. The mourning was excessive, and was 
 expressed by the most doleful yells, shrieks, and bowl- 
 ings, and by inimitable gesticulations. 
 
 During the Revolution, my house was the home of 
 Colonels Butler and Brandt, whenever they chanced to 
 come into our neighborhood, as they passed to and from 
 Fort Niagara, which was the seat of their military opera- 
 tions. Many and many a night I have pounded samp for 
 them from sunset till sunrise, and furnished them with 
 the necessary provisions, and clean clothing, for their 
 journey. 
 
 Ga-nuh'-sa, or Sea-Shell Medal. 
 
118 LIFE OP MART JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 Approach of General SuIliTan's army — A skirmish — Two Oneida 
 Indiana taken — One sacrificed — Lieutenants Boyd and Parker 
 captured — Boyd's barbarous execution — Parker's death — Senecas 
 retreat to the woods — Sullivan's army lays waste the country — 
 Army retires — Senecas return, but to disperse — Mary goes to 
 Gardeau Flats — Expedition to the Mohawk — Cornplanter and John 
 O'Bail — Ebenezer Allen. 
 
 For four or five years we sustained no loss in the war, 
 except in the few who had been killed in distant battles , 
 and our tribe, because of the remoteness of its situation 
 from the enemy, felt secure from an attack. At length, 
 in the fall of 1779, intelligence was received that a large 
 and powerful army of the rebels, under the command of 
 General Sullivan, was making rapid progress toward our 
 settlement; burning and destroying the huts and corn- 
 fields; killing the cattle, hogs, and horses; and cutting 
 down the fruit-trees belonging to the Indians throughout 
 the country. 
 
 Our Indians immediately became alarmed, and suffered 
 every thing but death, from fear that they should be 
 taken by surprise, and totally destroyed at a smgle blow. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 119 
 
 But in order to prevent so great a catastrophe, they sent 
 out a few spies, who were to keep themselves at a short 
 distance in front of the invading army, in order to watch 
 its operations, and give information of its advances and 
 success. 
 
 Sullivan arrived at Canandaigua Lake, and had finished 
 his work of destruction there; and it was ascertained 
 that he was ahout to march to our flats, when our Indians 
 resolved to give him hattle on the way, and prevent, if 
 possible, the distress to which they knew we should be 
 subjected, if he should succeed in reaching our town. 
 Accordingly, they sent all their women and children into 
 the woods a little west of Little Beard's Town, in order 
 that we might make a good retreat, if it should be neces- 
 sary; and then, well armed, set out to face the conquering 
 enemy. The place which they fixed upon for their battle- 
 ground, lay between Honeoye creek and the head of 
 Conesus Lake. At length a scouting-party ii-om Sullivan's 
 army arrived at the spot selected, when the Indians arose 
 from their ambush with all the fierceness and terror that 
 it was possible for them to exercise, and directly put the 
 party upon a retreat. Two Oneida Indians were all the 
 prisoners that were taken in that skirmish. One of them 
 was a pilot of Gen. Sullivan's, and had been very active 
 in the war, rendering to the people of the states essential 
 services. At the commencement of the Eevolution, he 
 
120 LIFE OF MAHT JEMISON. 
 
 had a brother older than himself, who resolved to join the 
 British service, and endeavored, by all the art that he 
 was capable of using, to persuade his brother to accom- 
 pany him; but his arguments proved abortive. One 
 went to the British, and the other to the American army. 
 At this critical juncture they met, one in the capacity of 
 a conqueror, the other in that of a prisoner ; and as an 
 Indian seldom forgets a countenance that he has seen, 
 they recognized each other at sight. Envy and revenge 
 glared in the features of the conquering savage, as he 
 advanced to his brother (the prisoner,) in all the haughti- 
 ness of Indian pride hightened by a sense of power, and 
 addressed him in the following manner : 
 
 "Brother, you have merited death! The hatchet or 
 the war-club shall finish your career ! When I begged 
 of you to follow me in the fortunes of war, you was deaf 
 to my cries — you spurned my entreaties ! 
 
 " Brother ! you have merited death ; and shall have 
 your desserts ! When the rebels raised their hatchets to 
 fight their good master, you sharpened your knife, you 
 brightened your rifle, and led on our foes to the fields of 
 our fathers ! You have merited death, and shall die by 
 our hands ! When those rebels had driven us from the 
 fields of our fathers to seek out new homes, it was you 
 who could dare to step forth as their pilot, and conduct 
 them even to the doors of our wigwams, to butcher our 
 
DfiH-HE-WA-MIS. 121 
 
 children, and to put us to death! No crime can be 
 greater ! But, though you have merited death and shall 
 die on this spot, my hands shall not be stained in the 
 blood of a brother ! Who will strikeV 
 
 Little Beard, who was standing by, as soon as the 
 speech was ended, struck the prisoner on the head with 
 his tomahawk, and dispatched him at once. 
 
 Little Beard then informed the other Indian prisoner 
 that, as they were at war with the whites only, and not 
 with the Indians, they would spare his life ; and, after a 
 while, give him his liberty in an honorable manner. The 
 Oneida warrior, however, was jealous of Little Beard's 
 fidelity; and suspecting that he should soon fall by his 
 hands, watched for a favorable opportunity to make his 
 escape; which he soon effected. Two Indians were lead- 
 ing him, one on each side, when he made a violent effort, 
 threw them upon the ground, and ran for his life toward 
 where the main body of the American army was en- 
 camped. The Indians pursued him without success ; but 
 in their absence they fell in with a small detachment of 
 Sullivan's men, with whom they had a short but severe 
 skirmish, in which they killed a number of the enemy, 
 took Captain (or Lieutenant Thomas Boyd * and one pri- 
 vate prisoners, and brought them to Little Beard's Town, 
 where they were soon after put to death in the most 
 shocking and cruel manner. Little Beard, in this as in 
 
 * See Appendix, page 385. 
 
122 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 all other scenes of cruelty that happened at his town, was 
 master of ceremonies, and principal actor. Poor Boyd 
 was stripped of his clothing, and then tied to a sapling; 
 where the Indians menaced his life, by throwing their 
 tomahawks at the tree directly over his head, brandishing 
 iheir scalping-knives around him in the most frightful 
 manner, and accompanying their ceremonies with terriflSc 
 shouts of joy. Having punished him suflSciently in this 
 way, they made a small opening in his abdomen, took out 
 an intestine, which they tied to the sapling, and then un- 
 bound him from the tree, and drove him round it, till he 
 had drawn out the whole of his intestines. He was then 
 beheaded, his head was stuck upon a pole, and his body 
 left on the ground unburied. Thus ended the life of poor 
 Thomas Boyd, who, it was said, had every appearance of 
 being an active and enterprising officer, of the first tal- 
 ents. The other was, if I remember distinctly, only 
 beheaded, and left near Boyd. 
 
 This tragedy being finished, our Indians again held a 
 short council on the expediency of giving Sullivan battle, 
 if he should continue to advance; and finally came to 
 the conclusion that they were not strong enough to drive 
 him, nor to prevent his taking possession of their fields ; 
 but that, if it was possible, they would escape with their 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 123 
 
 own lives, preserve their families, and leave their posses- 
 sions to be overrun by the invading army. 
 
 The women and children were then sent on still further 
 toward Buffalo, to a large creek, which was called by the 
 Indians Catawba, (Stony creek, which empties into the 
 Tonawanda creek at Varysburg, Wyoming county,) ac- 
 companied by a part of the Indians, while the remainder 
 secreted themselves in the woods back of Little Beard's 
 Town, to watch the movements of the army. 
 
 At that time I had three children who went with me 
 on foot, one who rode on horseback, and one whom I 
 carried on my back. 
 
 Our corn was good that year, a part of which we had 
 gathered and secured for winter. 
 
 In one or two days after the skirmish at Conesus Lake, 
 Sullivan and his army arrived at Genesee River, where 
 they destroyed every article of the food kind that they 
 could lay their hands on. A part of our corn they burnt, 
 and threw the remainder into the river. They burnt our 
 houses, killed what few cattle and horses they could find, 
 destroyed our fruit-trees, and left nothing but the bare 
 soil and timber. But the Indians had eloped, and were 
 not to be found. 
 
 Having crossed and recrossed the river, and finished 
 the work of destruction, the army marched off to the east. 
 Our Indians saw them move off, but, suspecting it was 
 
124 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 Sullivan's intention to watch our return, and then to take 
 us by surprise, resolved that the main body of our tribe 
 should hunt where we then were, till Sullivan had gone 
 so far that there would be no danger of his returning to 
 molest us. 
 
 This being agreed to, we hunted continually till the 
 Indians concluded that there could be no risk in our once 
 more taking possession of our lands. Accordingly, we all 
 returned; but what were our feelings when we found 
 that there was not a mouthful of any kind of sustenance 
 left — not even enough to keep a child one day from per- 
 ishing with hunger. 
 
 The weather by this time had become cold and stormy ; 
 and as we were destitute of houses, and food too, I imme- 
 diately resolved to take my children, and look out for 
 myself, without delay. With this intention, I took two 
 of my little ones on my back, bade the other three follow, 
 and traveled up the river to Gardeau Flats, where I 
 arrived that night. 
 
 At that time, two negroes, who had run away from 
 their masters some time before, were the only iahabitants 
 of those flats. They lived in a small cabin, and had 
 planted and raised a large field of corn, which they had 
 not yet harvested. As they were in want of help to 
 secure their crop, I hired to them to husk corn till the 
 whole was harvested. 
 
DEH-HIS-WA-MIS. 125 
 
 I have laughed a thousand times to myself, when I 
 have thought of the good old negro who hired me, who, 
 fearing that I should get taken or injured by the Indians, 
 stood by me constantly when I was husking, with a 
 loaded gun in his hand, in order to keep off the enemy ; 
 and thereby lost as much labor of his own as he received 
 from me, by paying good wages. I, however, was not 
 displeased with his attention ; for I knew that I should 
 need all the corn that I could earn, even if I should husk 
 the whole. I husked enough for them, to gain for myself, 
 at every tenth string, one hundred strings of ears, which 
 were equal to twenty-five bushels of shelled corn. This 
 seasonable supply made my family comfortable for samp 
 and cakes through the succeeding winter, which was the 
 most severe that I have witnessed since my remem- 
 brance. The snow fell about five feet deep, and remained 
 so for a long time ; and the weather was extremely cold, 
 so much so, indeed, that almost all the game upon 
 which the Indians depended for subsistence perished, and 
 reduced them almost to a state of starvation through 
 that and three or four succeeding years. When the 
 snow melted in the spring, deer were found dead upon the 
 ground in vast numbers ; and other animals of every de- 
 scription perished from the cold also, and weie found 
 dead in multitudes. Many of our people barely escaped 
 
126 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 with their lives, and some actually died of hunger and 
 freezing. 
 
 Having been completely routed at Little Beard's Town, 
 deprived of a house, and without the means of building 
 one in season, after I had finished my husking, and having 
 found from the short acquaintance which I had had with 
 the negroes that they were kind and friendly, I concluded, 
 at their request, to take up my residence with them for a 
 while in their cabin, till I should be able to provide a hut 
 for myself. I lived more comfortably than I expected to 
 through the winter, and the next season made a shelter 
 for myself 
 
 The negroes continued on these flats two or three years 
 after this, and left them for a place that they expected 
 would suit them much better. But as that land became 
 my own in a few years, by virtue of a deed from the 
 chiefs of the Six Nations, I have lived there from that to 
 the present time. 
 
 The next summer after Sullivan's campaign, our In- 
 dians, highly incensed at the whites for the treatment they 
 had received, and the sufferings which they had conse- 
 quently endured, determined to obtain some redress, by 
 destroying their frontier settlements. Cornplanter, other- 
 wise called John O'Bail, led the Indians ; and an officer 
 by the name of Johnston commanded the British in the 
 
CORN PLANTER. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 127 
 
 expedition. The force was large, and so strongly bent 
 upon exemplary retaliation and ample revenge that appa- 
 rently nothing could avert its march or prevent its depre- 
 dations. After leaving Genesee, they marched directly 
 to some of the head-waters of the Susquehanna Eiver 
 and Schoharie creek ; went down that creek to the 
 Mohawk River ; thence up that river to Fort Stanwix ; 
 and from thence came home. In their route, they burnt 
 a number of places, destroyed all the cattle and other 
 property that fell in their way, killed a number of white 
 people, and brought home a few prisoners. 
 
 In that expedition, when they came to Fort Plain, on 
 the Mohawk Eiver, Oornplanter and a party of his In- 
 dians took old John O'Bail, a white man, and made him 
 tt prisoner. Old John O'Bail, in his younger days, had 
 frequently passed through the Indian settlements that lay 
 between the Hudson and Port Niagara ; and in some of 
 his excursions had become enamored of a squaw, by whom 
 te had a son, that was called Oornplanter. 
 
 Oornplanter* was a chief of considerable eminence ; and 
 having been informed of his parentage and of the place 
 of his father's residence, took the old man, at this time, 
 in order that he might make an introduction leisurely, and 
 become acquainted with a man to whom, though a stran- 
 ger, he was satisfied that he owed his existence. 
 
 * Cornplanter'a tomahawk is now in the State Indian Collection, at 
 Albany. — TEd. 6 
 
•12® LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 After he had taken the old man, his father, he led him 
 as a prisoner ten or twelve miles up the river, and then 
 stepped before him, faced about, and addressed him in the 
 following terms : 
 
 "My name is John O'Bail, commonly called OorD- 
 planter. I am your son ! you are my father ! You are 
 now my prisoner, and subject to the customs of Indian 
 warfare. But you shall not be harmed — you need not 
 fear, I am a warrior. Many are the scalps which I have 
 taken. Many prisoners have I tortured to death. I am 
 your son ! I am a warrior. I was anxious to see you, 
 and to greet you in friendship. I went to your cabin, and 
 took you by force. But your life shall be spared. In- 
 dians love their friends and their kindred, and treat them 
 with kindness. If now you choose to follow the fortune 
 of your yellow son, and to live with our people, I will 
 cherish your old age with plenty of venison, and you 
 shall live easy ; but if it is your choice to return to your 
 fields, and live with your white children, I will send a 
 party of my trusty young men to conduct you back in 
 safety. I respect you, my father ; you have been friendly 
 to Indians, and they are your friends." 
 
 Old John chose to return. Cornplanter, as good as 
 his word, ordered an escort to attend him home, which 
 was done with the greatest care. 
 
 Among the prisoners who were brought to Genesee, 
 
r>EH-HE-WA-MIS. 139 
 
 was William Newkirk, a man by the name of Price, and 
 two negroes. 
 
 Price lived a while with Little Beard, and afterward 
 with Jack Berry, an Indian. When he left Jack Berry, 
 he went to Niagara; where he now resides. 
 
 Newkirk was brought to Little Beard's Town, and 
 lived with Little Beard and at Fort Niagara about one 
 year, and then enlisted under Butler, and went with him 
 on an expedition to the Monongahela. 
 
 About this time, one Ebenezer Allen ran away from 
 Pennsylvania, and came to live among us. He was much 
 at my house with my son Thomas ; he was always hon- 
 orable, kind, and even generous to me ; but the history of 
 his life is a tissue of crimes and baseness of the blackest 
 dye. I have often heard him relate his inglorious feats, 
 and confess crimes, the rehearsal of which made my 
 blood curdle, as much accustomed as I was to hear of 
 bloody and barbarous deeds. 
 
 Bark Canoe. 
 
130 LIFE OF aiABT JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Maiy is offered her freedom — She declines accepting — Her rcasous — 
 Her favorite Indian brother dies — Great council at Big Tree, in 
 1797 — Gardeau reservation given to Mary by the chiefs — Con- 
 tained 17,927 acres of land — Traditions of the Senecas — The 
 Great Serpent atNan-de-wa-o. 
 
 Soon after the close of the Eevolutionary War, my In- 
 dian brother, Kau-jises-tau-ge-au, (which being interpreted 
 signifies Black Coals,) offered me my liberty, and told me 
 that if it was my choice I might go to my Mends. 
 
 My son Thomas was anxious that I should go; and 
 offered to go with me, and assist me on the journey, 
 by taking care of the younger children, and providing 
 food as we traveled through the wilderness. But the 
 chiefs of our tribe, suspecting, from his appearance, 
 actions, and a few warlike exploits, that Thomas would 
 be a great warrior, or a good counselor, refused to let 
 him leave them on any account whatever. 
 
 To go myself, and leave him, was more than I felt able 
 to do ; for he had been kind to me, and was one on whom 
 1 placed great dependence. The chiefs refusing to let 
 him go was one reason for my resolving to stay; but 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 131 
 
 another, more powerful if possible, was, that I had got a 
 large family of Indian children that I must take with rae ; 
 and that, if I should be so fortunate as to find my rela- 
 tives, they would despise them, if not myself, and treat us 
 as enemies, or, at least, with a degree of cold indifference, 
 which I thought I could not endure. 
 
 Accordingly, after I had duly considered the matter, I 
 told my brother that it was my choice to stay and spend 
 the remainder of my days with my Indian friends, and 
 live with my family as I hitherto had done. He appeared 
 well pleased with my resolution, and informed me that, as 
 that was my choice, I should have a piece of land that I 
 could call my own, where I could live unmolested, and 
 have something at my decease to leave for the benefit of 
 my children. 
 
 In a short time, he made himself ready to go to Upper 
 Canada ; but before he left us he told me he would speak 
 to some of the chiefs at Buffalo, to attend the great council, 
 which he expected would convene in a few years at fur- 
 thest, and convey to me such a tract of land as I should 
 select. My brother left us as he had proposed, and soon 
 after died at Grand Kiver. 
 
 Kaujisestaugeau was an excellent man, and ever 
 treated me with kindness. Perhaps no one of his tribe, 
 at any time, exceeded him in natural mildness of temper 
 and warmth and tenderness of affection. If he had taken 
 
132 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 my life at the time when the avarice of the old king in- 
 clined him to procure my emancipation, it would have 
 been done with a pure heart, and from good motives. He 
 loved his friends, and was generally beloved. During 
 the time that I lived in the family with him, he never 
 offered the most trifling abuse; on the contrary, his whole 
 conduct toward me Was strictly honorable. I mourned 
 his loss as that of a tender brother, and shall recollect 
 him through life with emotions of friendship and gratitude. 
 
 I lived undisturbed, without hearing a word on the 
 subject of my land, till the great council was held at Big 
 Tree, in 1797, when Farmer's Brother, whose Indian 
 name is Ho-na-ye-wus, sent for me to attend the council. 
 When I got there, he told me that my brother had spoken 
 to him to see that I had a piece of land reserved for my 
 use ; and that then was the time for me to receive it. 
 He requested that I would choose for myself, and de- 
 scribe the bounds of a piece that would suit me. I ac- 
 cordingly told him the place of beginning, and then went 
 round a tract that I judged would be sufficient for my 
 purpose, (knowing that it would include the Gardeau Flats,) 
 by stating certam bounds with which I was acquainted. 
 
 When the council was opened, and the business afforded 
 a proper opportunity. Farmer's Brother presented my 
 claim, and rehearsed the request of my brother. Red 
 Jacket, whose Indian name is Sagu-yu-what-hah, (which, 
 
( ' 
 
 RED JACKET. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 133 
 
 interpreted, is Keeper-awake,) opposed me and my claim 
 with all his influence and eloquence. Farmer's Brother 
 insisted upon the necessity, propriety, and expediency of 
 his proposition, and got the land granted. The deed was 
 made and signed, securing to me the title of all the land 
 I had described ; under the same restrictions and regu- 
 lations that other Indian lands are subject to. 
 
 This tract is more than six miles long from east to 
 west, and nearly four and three-fourths miles wide from 
 north to south, containing seventeen thousand nine hun- 
 dred and twenty-seven acres, with the Genesee River run- 
 ning centrally through it, from south to north. It has 
 been known ever since as the Gardeau Tract, or the Gar-, 
 deau Reservation. 
 
 Red Jacket not only opposed my claim at the council, 
 but he withheld my money two or three years, on the 
 account of my lands having been granted without his con- 
 sent. Jasper Parrish and Horatio Jones, who had both 
 been taken prisoners by the Indians, adopted and detained 
 with them many years, the first being the Indian agent 
 for the United States, and the other interpreter, inter- 
 fered, and at length convinced Red Jacket that it was the 
 white people, and not the Indians, who had given me the 
 land ; and compelled him to pay over all the money which 
 he had retained on my account. My land derived its 
 name, Gardeau, from a hill that is within its limits, which 
 
134 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 is called, in the Seneca language, Kautam. Kautam, 
 when interpreted, signifies up and down, or down and up, 
 and is applied to a hill that you ascend and descend in 
 passing ; or to a valley. It has been said that Gardeau 
 was the name of my husband Hiokatoo, and that my land 
 derived its name from him ; that, however, is a mistake ; 
 for the old man always considered Gardeau a nickname, 
 and was uniformly offended when called by it. 
 
 My flats were extremely fertile, but needed more labor 
 than my daughters and myself were able to perform, to 
 produce a sufficient quantity of grain and other necessary 
 productions of the earth for the consumption of our 
 family. The land had lain uncultivated so long that it 
 was thickly covered with weeds of almost every descrip- 
 tion. In order that we might live more easy, Mr. Parrish, 
 with the consent of the chiefs, gave me liberty to lease or 
 let my land to white people to till on shares. I accord- 
 ingly let out the greater part of my improvements, and 
 have continued to do so, which makes my task less bur- 
 densome, while at the same time I am more comfortably 
 supplied with the means of support. 
 
 About three hundred acres of my land, when I first 
 saw it, was open flats, lying on the Genesee River, which 
 is supposed was cleared by a race of inhabitants who pre- 
 ceded the first Indian settlements in this part of the 
 country The Indians are confident that many parts of this 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. / 135 
 
 country were settled, and for a number of years occupied, 
 by the people of wiom their fathers never had any tradi- 
 tion, as they never had seen them. Whence those people 
 originated, and whither they went, I have never heard 
 one of the oldest and wisest Indians pretend to guess. 
 When I first came to G-enishau, the bank of Fall Brook 
 had just slid off, and exposed a large number of human 
 bones, which the Indians said were buried there long 
 before their fathers ever saw the place, and that they did 
 not know what kind of people they were. It, however, 
 was, and is, believed by our people that they were not 
 Indians. 
 
 The tradition of the Seneca Indians, in regard to their 
 origin, is, that they broke out of the earth from a large 
 mountain at the head of Oanandaigua Lake; and that 
 mountain they still venerate as the place of their bii-th. 
 Thence they derive their name, " Ge-nun-de-wah,"* or 
 " Great Hill," and are called " The Great Hill People," 
 which is the true definition of the word Seneca. 
 
 The great hill at the head of Oanandaigua Lake, from 
 whence they sprung, is called Genundewah, and has for 
 a long time past been the place where the Indians of that 
 nation have met in council, to hold great talks, and to 
 
 * The true name of the Senecas ia Nun-da-w'd-o-no, from Nun-da- 
 
 lo'd-o, "a great hilL" Hence the name of Nunda, from Ntm-dd-o, 
 
 "hffly.' — [Ed. 
 
 6* 
 
136 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 offer up prayers to the Great Spirit, on account of its 
 having been their birthplace ; and, also, in consequence 
 of the destruction of a serpent at that place in ancient 
 time, in a most miraculous manner, which threatened the 
 destruction of the whole of the Senecas, and barely 
 spared enough to commence replenishing the earth. 
 
 The Indians say, that the fort on the big hill, or Ge- 
 nundewah, near the head of Canandaigua Lake, was sur- 
 rounded by a monstrous serpent, whose head and tail 
 came together at the gate. A long time it lay there, con- 
 founding the people with its breath. At length they 
 attempted to make their escape, some with their hominy 
 blocks, and others with different implements of household 
 furniture ; and in marching out of the fort walked down 
 the throat of the serpent. Two orphan children, who had 
 escaped this general destruction by being left on this side 
 of the fort, were informed, by an oracle, of the means by 
 which they could get rid of their formidable enemy — 
 which was, to take a small bow and a poisoned arrow, 
 made of a kind of willow, and with that shoot the serpent 
 under its scales. This they did, and the arrow proved 
 effectual; for, on its penetrating the skin, the serpent 
 became sick, and, extending itself, rolled down the hill, 
 destroying all the timber that was in its way, disgorging 
 itself, and breaking wind greatly as it went. At every 
 motion a human head was discharged, and rolled down 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 137 
 
 the hill into the lake, where they lie at this day in a petri- 
 fied state, having the hardness and appearance of stones ; 
 and the Pagan Indians of the Senecas believe, that all 
 the little snakes were made of the blood of the great 
 serpent, after it rolled into the lake. 
 
 To this day, the Indians visit that sacred place to 
 mourn the loss of their friends, and to celebrate some 
 rites that are peculiar to themselves. To the knowledge 
 of white people, there has been no timber on the great 
 hill since it was first discovered by them, though it lay 
 apparently in a state of nature for a great number of 
 years, without cultivation. Stones in the shape of Indians' 
 heads may be seen lying in the lake in great plenty, which 
 are said to be the same that were deposited there at the 
 death of the serpent. 
 
 The Senecas have a tradition, that previous to, and for 
 some time after their origin at Genundewah, the country, 
 especially about the lakes, was thickly inhabited by a 
 race of civil, enterprising, and industrious people, who 
 were totally destroyed by the great serpent that afterward 
 surrounded the great hill fort, with the assistance of others 
 of the same species; and that they (the Senecas) went 
 into possession of the improvements that were left. 
 
 In those days the Indians throughout the whole country, 
 as the Senecas say, spoke one language ; but having be- 
 come considerably numerous, the before-mentioned great 
 
138 
 
 LIFE OF MABY JEMISON. 
 
 serpent, by an unknown influence, confounded their lan- 
 guage, so that they could not understand each other; 
 which was the cause of their division into nations — as 
 the Mohawks, Oneidas, etc. At that time, however, the 
 Senecas retained the original language, and continued 
 to occupy their mother hill, on which they fortified them- 
 selves against their enemies, and lived peaceably, until 
 having offended the serpent, they were cut off as I have 
 before remarked. 
 
 Ga-geh-ta, or Belt. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. ' 139 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Uttle Beard's death — Singular superstition — Family government — 
 Her sons Thomas and John quarrel — John murders Thomas — 
 John is tried and acquitted by the chiefs — Thomas' character — 
 His wife and children — Death of Hi-ok-a-too — His age and 
 funeral — His character. 
 
 From the time I secured my land, my life passed for 
 many years in an unvaried routine of superintending my 
 family and taking care of my property, without the occur- 
 rence of any event relative to me or my affairs worth notic- 
 ing, and but few in which the nation or our villages felt 
 much interest. 
 
 About the first of June, 1806, Little Beard died, and 
 was buried after the manner of burying chiefs. In his 
 lifetime he had been quite arbiti"ary, and had made some 
 enemies whom he hated, probably, and was not loved 
 oy them. The grave, however, deprives enmity of its 
 malignity, and revenge of its keenness. 
 
 Little Beard had been dead but a few days when the 
 great eclipse of the sun took place, on the 16th of Juic, 
 which excited in the Indiajj.s a great degree of astonishment ; 
 for as they were ignorant of astronomy, they were totally 
 
140 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 unqualified to aoooiint for so extraordinary a pheinomenon. 
 The crisis was alarming, and something effectual must be 
 done without delay, to remove, if possible, such coldness 
 and darkness, which it was expected would increase. 
 They accordingly ran together in the three towns near 
 the Genesee Eiver, and after a long consultation agreed 
 that Little Beara, on the account of some old grudge 
 which he yet cherished toward them, had placed him- 
 self between them and the sun, in order that their com 
 might not grow, and so reduce them to a state of starva- 
 tion. Having thus found the cause, the next thing was 
 to remove it, which could only be done by the use of 
 powder and ball. Upon this, every gun and rifle was 
 loaded, and a firing commenced, that continued without 
 cessation till the old fellow left his seat, and the obscu- 
 rity was entirely removed, to the great joy of the ingeni- 
 ous and fortunate Indians. 
 
 I have frequently heard it asserted by white people, 
 and can truly say from my own experience, that the 
 time at which parents take most satisfaction and comfort 
 with their families, is when iheir children are young, in- 
 capable of providing for their own wants, and are about 
 the fireside, where they can be duly observed and in- 
 structed. 
 
 In the government of their families among the Indians, 
 the parents are very mild, the women superintending 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 141 
 
 the children. The word of the father, however, is law, 
 and must be obeyed by the whole who are under his au- 
 thority. 
 
 The Indians are very tenacious of their precedence and 
 supremacy over their wives, and the wives acknowledge it 
 by their actions, with the greatest subserviency. It is a 
 rule inculcated in all the Indian tribes, and practiced 
 generation after generation, that a squaw shall not walk 
 before her husband, or take the lead in his business. For 
 this reason we never see a party on the march, in which 
 squaws are not directly in the rear of their partners. 
 
 Few mothers, perhaps, have had less trouble with their 
 children during their minority than myself. In general, 
 my children were friendly to each other, and it was very 
 seldom that I knew them to have the least diflference or 
 quarrel; so far indeed were they from rendering them- 
 selves or me uncomfortable, that I considered myself 
 happy — more so than commonly falls to the lot of par- 
 ents, especially to women. 
 
 My happiness in this respect, however, was not without 
 alloy; for my son Thomas, from some cause unknown to 
 me, from the time he was a small lad, always called his 
 brother John a witch, which was the cause, as they grew 
 toward manhood, of frequent and severe quarrels between 
 them, and gave me much trouble and anxiety for their 
 safety. After Thomas and John had arrived to the age of 
 
14:2 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 maiihood, another source of contention arose between them, 
 founded on the circumstance of John's having two wives. 
 Although polygamy * was tolerated in our tribe, Thomas 
 considered it a violation of good and wholesome rules in 
 society, and tending directly to destroy that friendly 
 social intercourse and love which ought to be the happy 
 result of matrimony and chastity. Consequently, he 
 frequently reprimanded John, by telling him that his con- 
 duct was beneath the dignity, and inconsistent with the 
 principles of good Indians ; indecent, and unbecoming a 
 gentleman; and, as he never could reconcile himself to 
 it, he was frequently — almost constantly, when they 
 were together — talking to him on the subject. John 
 always resented such reprimand and reproof with a great 
 degree of passion, though they never quarreled, unless 
 Thomas was intoxicated. 
 
 In his fits of drunkenness, Thomas seemed to lose all 
 his natural reason, and to conduct like a wild or crazy 
 man, without regard to relatives, decency, or propriety. 
 At such times he often threatened to take my life for hav- 
 ing raised a witeh, (as he called John,) and has gone so 
 far as to raise his tomahawK to split my head. He, how- 
 ever, never struck me ; but on John's account he struck 
 
 * Althongh polygamy has prevailed to a limited extent among the 
 Sonecas In later times, it was prohibited in earlier days, and considered 
 diHgraceful. — [Ed. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 143 
 
 Hiokatoo, and thereby excited in John a high degree of 
 indignation, -which was extinguished only by blood. 
 
 For a number of years their difficulties and consequent 
 unhappiness continued, and rather increased, continually 
 exciting in my breast the most fearful apprehensions, and 
 greatest anxiety for their safety. With tears in my eyes 
 I advised them to become reconciled to each other, and 
 to be friendly ; told them the consequences of their con- 
 tinuing to cherish so much malignity and malice — that 
 it would end in their destruction, the disgrace of their 
 families, and bring me down to the grave. No one can 
 conceive of the constant trouble that I daily endured on 
 their account — on the account of my two oldest sons, 
 whom I loved equally, and with all the feelings and affec- 
 tion of a tender mother, stimulated by an anxious concern 
 fbr their fate. Parents, mothers especially, will love their 
 children, though ever so unkind and disobedient. Their 
 eyes of compassion, of real sentimental affection, will be 
 involuntarily extended after them, in their greatest ex- 
 cesses of iniquity; and those fine filaments of consan- 
 guinity, which gently entwine themselves around the 
 heart where filial love and parental care are equal, will be 
 lengthened and enlarged to cords seemingly of sufficient 
 strength to reach and reclaim the wanderer. I know that 
 such exercises are frequently unavailing; but notwith- 
 standing their ultimate failure, it still remains true, and 
 
144 LH'E OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 ever will, that the love of a parent for a disobedient child 
 will increase, and grow more and more ardent, so long as 
 a hope of its reformation is capable of stimulating a dis- 
 appointed breast. 
 
 My advice and expostulations with my sons were 
 abortive ; and year after year their disaffection for each 
 other increased. At length, Thomas came to my house 
 on the first day of July, 1811, in my absence, somewhat 
 intoxicated, where he found John, with whom he imme- 
 diately commenced a quarrel on their old subjects of dif- 
 ference. John's anger became desperate. He caught 
 Thomas by the hair of his head, and dragged him out of 
 the door, and there killed him, by a blow which he gave 
 him on the head with his tomahawk. 
 
 I returned soon after, and found my son lifeless at the 
 door, on the spot where he was killed. No one can judge 
 of my feelings on seeing this mournful spectacle; and 
 what greatly added to my distress was the fact that he 
 had fallen by the murderous hand of his brother. I felt 
 my situation insupportable. Having passed through 
 various scenes of trouble of the most cruel and trying 
 kind, I had hoped to spend my few remaining days in 
 quietude, and to die in peace, surrounded by my family. 
 This fatal event, however, seemed to be a stream of woe 
 poured into my cup of afflictions, filling it even to over- 
 flowing, and blasting all my prospects. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 1 45 
 
 As soon as I had recovered a little from the shock 
 which I felt at the sight of ray departed son, and some 
 of the neighbors had come in to help take care of the 
 corpse, I hired Shanks, an Indian, to go to Buffalo, and 
 carry the sorrowful news of Thomas' death to our friends 
 at that place, and request the chiefs to hold a council, 
 and dispose of John as they should think proper. Shanks 
 set out on his errand immediately, and John, fearing 
 that he should be apprehended and punished for the crime 
 he had committed, at the same time went off toward 
 Oaneadea. 
 
 Thomas was decently interred in a style corresponding 
 with bis rank. 
 
 The chiefs soon assembled in council on the trial of 
 John, and after having seriously examined the matt«r 
 according to their laws, justified his conduct, and acquitted 
 him. They considered Thomas to have been the first 
 transgressor; and that, for the abuses which he had 
 offered, he had merited from John the treatment that he 
 had received. John, on learning the decision of the 
 council, returned to his family. 
 
 Thomas, except when intoxicated, which was not fre- 
 quent, was a kind and tender child, willing to assist me 
 in my labor, and to remove every obstacle to my comfort. 
 His natural abilities were said to be of a superior cast, 
 and he soared above the trifling subjects of revenge which 
 
14:6 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 are common among Indians, as being far beneath his 
 attention. In his childish and boyish days, his natural 
 turn was to practice in the art of war, though he despised 
 the cruelties that the warriors inflicted upon their subju- 
 gated enemies. He was manly in his deportment, cour- 
 ageous, and active ; and commanded respect. Though he 
 appeared well pleased with peace, he was cunning in In- 
 dian warfare, and succeeded to admiration in the execu- 
 tion of his plans. 
 
 At the age of fourteen or fifteen years, he went into 
 the war with manly fortitude, armed with a tomahawk 
 and scalping-knife ; and, when he returned, brought one 
 white man a prisoner, whom he had taken with his own 
 hands, on the west branch of the Susquehanna River. 
 It so happened, that as he was looking out for his enemies, 
 he discovered two men boiling sap in the woods. He 
 watched them unperceived till dark, when he advanced 
 with a noiseless step to the place where they were stand- 
 ing, caught on« of them before they were apprised of 
 danger, and conducted him to the camp. He was well 
 treated while a prisoner, and redeemed at the close of 
 the war. 
 
 At the time Kaujisestaugeau gave me liberty to go to 
 my friends, Thomas was anxious to go with me ; but as I 
 have before observed, the chiefs would not suffer him to 
 leave them, on the account of his courage and skill in war : 
 
DEH-HB-WA-MIS. 147 
 
 expecting that they should need his assistance. He was 
 a great counselor, and a chief when quite young ; and, in 
 the last capacity, went two or three times to Philadelphia, 
 to assist in making treaties with the people of the states. 
 
 Thomas, at the time of his death, was a few moons 
 over fifty-two years old. He was then living with his 
 fourth wife, having lost three; by whom he had eight 
 children. As he was naturally good-natured, and pos- 
 sessed a friendly disposition, he would not have come to 
 so untimely a death, had it not been for his intemperance. 
 He fell a victim to the use of ardent spirits : a poison that 
 will soon exterminate the Indian tribes in this part of the 
 country, and leave their names without root or branch. 
 The thought is melancholy ; but no arguments, no exam- 
 ples, however persuasive or impressive, are sufficient to 
 deter an Indian for an hour from taking the potent 
 draught, which he knows at the time will derange his 
 faculties, reduce him to a level with the brutes, or deprive 
 him of life. 
 
 Jacob Jemison, Thomas' second son by his last wife, 
 who is at this time, 1823, twenty-seven or twenty-eight 
 years of age, went to Dartmouth College, in the spring of 
 1816, for the purpose of receiving an education, where it 
 was said he was an industrious scholar, and made great 
 proficiency in the study of the different branches of educa- 
 tion to which he attended. Having spent two years in 
 
148 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 that institution, he returned in the winter of 1818, and is 
 now at Buffalo, where I have understood he contemplates 
 the study of medicine as a profession. 
 
 In the month of November, 1811, my husband Hiok- 
 atoo, who had been sick of consumption for four years, 
 died at the advanced age of one hundred and three years, 
 as nearly as the time could be estimated. He was the 
 last that remained to me of our family connection, or 
 rather of my old friends with whom I was adopted, except 
 a part of one family, which now resides at Tonawanda. 
 
 Hiokatoo was buried decently, and had all the insignia 
 of a veteran warrior buried with him; consisting of a 
 war-club, tomahawk and scalping-knife, a powder-flask, 
 flint, a piece of spunk, a small cake, and a cup ; and in 
 his best clothing. 
 
 According to the Indian mode of burial, the deceased 
 is laid out in his best clothing, and put into a cofRn of 
 boards or bark ; and with him is deposited, in every in- 
 stance, a small cup and a cake. Generally two or three 
 candles are put into the cofiBn, and in a few instances, at 
 the burial of a great man, all his implements of war are 
 buried by the side of the body. The coffin is then closed 
 and carried to the grave. On its being let down, the per- 
 son who takes the lead of the solemn transaction, or a 
 chief, addresses the dead in a short speech, in which he 
 charges him not to be troubled about himself in his new 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 1 49 
 
 situation, nor on his journey, and not to trouble Ids friends, 
 wife, or cliildren, "whom he has left; tells him that, if he 
 meets with strangers on his way, he must inform them 
 what tribe he belongs to, who his relatives are, the situ- 
 ation in which he left them ; and that, having done this, 
 he must keep on till he arrives at the good fields in the 
 country of Nauwaneu; that, when he arrives there he 
 will see all his ancestors and personal friends that have 
 gone before him, who, together with all the chiefs of 
 celebrity, will receive him joyfully, and furnish him with 
 every article of perpetual happiness. 
 
 The grave is now filled and left till evening, when some 
 of the nearest relatives of the dead build a fire at the 
 head of it, near which they sit till morning. In this way 
 they continue to practice nine successive nights, when, 
 believing that their departed friend has arrived at the end 
 of his journey, they discontinue their attention. During 
 this time the relatives of the deceased are not allowed to 
 dance. 
 
 Formerly, frolics were held for the dead, after the ex- 
 piration of nine days, at which all the squaws got drunk ; 
 and those were the only occasions on which they were 
 intoxicated : but lately those are discontinued, and squaws 
 feel no delicacy in getting inebriated.* 
 
 • The religious Rystem of the Iroquois taught that it was a journey 
 ftom earth to heaven, of many days' duration. Originally it was 
 
150 LIFE OP MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 Hiokatoo was an old man when I fii-st saw him ; but 
 he was by no means enervated. During the time of nearly 
 fifty years that I lived with him, I received, according to 
 Indian customs, all the kindness and attention that was 
 my due as his wife. Although war was his trade from 
 his youth till old age and decrepitude stopped his career, 
 he uniformly treated me with tenderness, and never of- 
 fered an insult. 
 
 supposed to be a year, and the period of mourning for the departed 
 was fixed at that term. At its expiration it was customary for the 
 relatives of the deceased .to hold a feast — the soul of the departed 
 having reached heaven, and a state of felicity, there was no longer any 
 cause for mourning. In modern times the mourning period has been 
 reduced to ten days, and the journey of the spirit is now believed to 
 be performed in three. The spirit of the deceased was supposed to 
 hover around the body for a season before it took its final departure ; 
 and not until after the expiration of a year, according to the ancient be- 
 lief, and ten days according to the present, did it become permanently at 
 rest in heaven.// A beautiful custom prevailed, in ancient times, of 
 capturing a bird, and fi-eeing it over the grave on the evening of the 
 burial, to bear away the spirit to its heavenly rest. Their notions of the 
 state of the soul when disembodied are vague and diversified ; but 
 they all agree that, during the journey, it required the same nourish- 
 ment as while it dwelt in the body. They, therefore, deposited beside 
 the deceased his bow and arrows, tobacco and pipe, and necessary food 
 for the journey. They also painted the face, and dressed the body in its 
 best apparel A fire was built upon {he grave at night, to enable the 
 spirit to prepare its food. With these tokens of affection, and these 
 superstitious concernments for the welfare of the deceased, the children 
 of the forest performed the burial rites of their departed kindred." — 
 [Leagub or THK Iroquois, p. lli. 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 151 
 
 I have frequently heard him repeat the history of his 
 life from Ms childhood ; and when he came to that part 
 which related to his actions, his bravery, and valor in 
 war ; when he spoke of the ambush, the combat, the spoil- 
 ing of his enemies, and the sacrifice of his victims, his 
 nerves seemed strung with youthfiil ardor, the warmth of 
 the able warrior seemed to animate his frame, and to pro- 
 duce the heated gestures which he had practiced in mid- 
 dle age. He was a man of tender feelings to his friends, 
 ready and willing to assist them in distress, yet, as a war- 
 rior, his cruelties to his enemies perhaps were unparal- 
 leled, and will not admit a word of palliation. 
 
 O-no-nea Gos-ha-da, or Corn-Husk Bottle. 
 
152 LIFE OF MAHT JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Mary's family troubles continue — John's enmity toward his brother 
 Jesse — They quarrel — Whisky the cause — John murders 
 Jesse — Jesse's funeral and character. 
 
 Being now left a widow in my old age, to mourn the 
 loss of a husband, who had treated me well, and with 
 whom I had raised five children ; and having suffered the 
 loss of an affectionate son, I fondly fostered the hope 
 that my melancholy vicissitudes had ended, and that the 
 remainder of my time would be characterized by nothing 
 unpropitious. My children dutiful and kind, lived near 
 me, and apparently nothing obstructed our happiness. 
 
 But a short time, however, elapsed, after my husband's 
 death, before my troubles were renewed with redoubled 
 severity. 
 
 John's hand having been once stained in the blood of a 
 brother, although acquitted of murder by the chiefs, it was 
 not strange that every person of his acquaintance should 
 shun him, from a fear of his repeating upon them the 
 same ceremony that he had practiced upon Thomas. My 
 son Jesse went to Mount Morris, a few miles from home, 
 on business, in the winter after the death of his father; 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 153 
 
 and it so happened that his brother John was there, who 
 requested Jesse to come home with him. Jesse, fearing 
 that John would commence a quarrel with him on the 
 way, declined the invitation, and tarried over night. 
 
 From that time John conceived himself despised by 
 Jesse, and was highly enraged at the treatment which he 
 had received from him. Very little was said, however, 
 and it all passed off apparently, till sometime in the month 
 of May, 1812 ; at which time Mr. Eobert Whaley, who 
 lived in the town of Castile, within four miles of me, came 
 to my house early on Monday morning, to hire George 
 Chongo, my son-in-law, and John and Jesse, to go that 
 day and help him slide a quantity of boards from the top 
 of the hill to the river, where he calculated to build a 
 raft of them for market. 
 
 They all concluded to go with Mr. Whaley, and made 
 ready as soon as possible. But before they set out, I 
 charged them not to drink any whisky ; for I was confident 
 that if they did, they would surely have a quarrel, in con- 
 sequence of it. They went and worked till almost night, 
 when a quarrel ensued between Chongo and Jesse, in con- 
 sequence of the whisky which they had drank through 
 the day, which terminated in a battle, and Chongo got 
 whipped. 
 
 When Jesse had got through with Chongo, he told Mr. 
 Whaley that he would go home, and directly went off. 
 
154 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 He, however, went but a few rods, before he stopped and 
 lay down by the side of a log to wait, as was sup- 
 posed, for company. John, as soon as Jesse was gone, 
 went to Mr. Whaley, with his knife in his hand, and bade 
 him jogo I i. e., be gone ; at the same time telling him that 
 Jesse was a bad man. Mr. Whaley, seeing that his coun- 
 tenance exhibited a demon-like malignity, and that he 
 was determined upon something desperate, was alarmed for 
 his own safety, and turned toward home, leaving Chongo 
 on the ground drunk, near to where Jesse had laid, who 
 by this time had got up, and was advancing toward John. 
 Mr. Whaley was soon out of hearing of them ; but some 
 of his workmen stayed till it was dark. Jesse came up to 
 John, and said to him, " You want more whisky, and 
 more fighting," and after a few words went at him, to try 
 in the first place to get away his knife. In this he did 
 not succeed, and they parted. By this time the night had 
 come on, and it was dark. Again they clenched, and at 
 length in their struggle they both fell. John, having his 
 knife in his hand, came under ; and in this situation gave 
 Jesse a fatal stab with his knife, and repeated the blows till 
 Jesse, crying out " Brother you have killed me," quit his 
 hold, and settled back upon the ground. Upon hearing 
 this, John left him, came to Thomas' widow's house, told 
 them that he had been fighting with their uncle, whom he 
 killed, and showed them his knife. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 156 
 
 Next morning, as soon as it was light, Thomas' and 
 John's children came and told me that Jesse was dead 
 In the woods, and also informed me how he came by his 
 death. John soon followed them, and informed me him- 
 self of all that had taken place between him and his 
 brother, and seemed to be somewhat sorrowful for his con- 
 duct. Tou can better imagine what my feelings were 
 than I can describe them. My darling son — my youngest 
 child — him on whom I depended — was dead; and I, in 
 my old age, left destitute of a helping hand ! 
 
 As soon as it was consistent for me, I got Mr. George 
 Jemison (of whom I shall have occasion to speak,) to go 
 with his sleigh to where Jesse was, and bring him home — 
 a distance of three or four miles. My daughter Polly 
 arrived at the fatal spot first ; we got there soon after 
 her, though I went the whole distance on foot. By this 
 time, Chongo, who was left on the ground drunk the 
 night before, had become sober, and sensible of the great 
 misfortune which had happened to our family. 
 
 I was overcome with grief at the sight of my murdered 
 son, and so far lost the command of myself as to be al- 
 most frantic ; and those who were present were obliged 
 to hold me from going near him. 
 
 On examining the body, it was found that it had re- 
 ceived eighteen wounds, so deep and large that it was 
 believed that either of them would have proved mortal. 
 
156 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 The corpse was carried to my house, and kept till the 
 Thursday following, when it was buried after the manner 
 of burying white people. 
 
 Jesse was twenty-seven or eight years old when he was 
 Ivilled. His temper had been uniformly very mild and 
 friendly; and he was inclined to copy after the white 
 people, both in his manners and dress. Although he was- 
 naturally temperate, he occasionally became intoxicated ; 
 but never was quarrelsome or mischievous. With the 
 white people he was intimate, and learned from them 
 their habits of industry, which he was fond of practicing, 
 especially when my comfort demanded his labor. As I 
 have observed, it is the custom among the Indians for 
 the women to perform all the labor in and out of doors, 
 and I had the whole to do, with the help of my daughters, 
 till Jesse arrived to a sufficient age to assist us. He wa" 
 disposed to labor in the cornfield, to chop my wood, milk 
 my cows, and attend to any kind of business that would 
 make my task the lighter. On the account of his having 
 been my youngest child, and so willing to help me, I am 
 sensible that I loved him better than I did either of my 
 other children. After he began to understand my situ- 
 ation, and the means of rendering it more easy, I never 
 wanted for anything that was in his power to bestow ; 
 but since his death, as I have had all my labor to perform 
 alone, I have constantly seen hard times. 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MlS. 1 57 
 
 Jesse shunned the company of his brothers, and the 
 Indians generally and never attended their frolics ; and 
 it was supposed that this, together with my partiality for 
 him, were the causes which excited in John so great a de- 
 gree of envy that nothing short of death would satisfy it* 
 
 * "Soon after the War of 1812, an altercation occurred between 
 David Reese, (who was ut that time the government blaclcsmith for 
 the Senecas, upon the reservation near Buffalo,) and a Seneca Indian 
 called Toung King, which resulted in a severe blow with a scythe, 
 inflicted by Reese, which nearly severed one of the Indian's arms ; so 
 near, in fact, that amputation was immediately resorted to. The cir- 
 cumstance created considerable excitement among the Indians, which 
 extended to Gardeau, the then home of the Jemison family. John 
 Jemison headed a party from there, and went to Buffalo, giving out, as 
 he traveled along the road, that he was going to kill Reese. The 
 author saw him on his way, and recollects how well he personated the 
 ideal "Angel of Death." His weapons were the war-club and the 
 tomahawk; red paint was daubed on his swarthy face, and long 
 bunches of horse-hair, colored red, were dangling from each arm. 
 His warlike appearance was well calculated to give an earnest to his 
 threats. Reese was kept secreted, and thus, in all probability, avoided 
 the fiite that even kindred had met at the hands of John Jemison." — 
 [Turner's History of the Holland Pdrchase, p. 295. 
 
158 LIFE OP MART JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Mary's pretended cousio, George Jemiaon — His poverty — Her kind- 
 ness and assistance — His ingratitude — Attempt to defraud her of 
 a part of her Reservation — Is expelled from the premises. 
 
 A YEAR or two before the death of my kusband, Capt. 
 H. Jones sent me word that a cousin of mine was then 
 living on Genesee Plats, by the name of George Jemison; 
 and as he was very poor, thought it advisable for me to 
 go and see him, and take him home to live with me on 
 my land. My Indian friends were pleased to hear that 
 one of my relatives was so near, and also advised me to 
 send for him and his family immediately. I accordingly 
 had him and his family moved into one of my houses, in 
 the month of March, 1810. 
 
 He said that he was my father's brother's son — that 
 his father did not leave Europe till after the French war 
 in America, and that when he did come over, he settled in 
 Pennsylvania, where he died. George had no personal 
 knowledge of my father; but from information, was con- 
 fident that the relationship which he claimed between 
 himself and me aclually existed. Although I had never 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 159 
 
 before heard of my father having had but one brother, 
 (him who was killed at Fort Necessity,) yet I knew that 
 he might have had others ; and, as the story of George 
 carried with it a probability that it was true, I received 
 him as a kinsman, and treated him with every degree of 
 friendship which his situation demanded. 
 
 I found that he was destitute of the means of subsist- 
 ence, and in debt to the amount of seventy dollars, with- 
 out the ability to pay one cent. He had no cow, and 
 finally was completely poor. I paid his debts to the 
 amount of seventy-two dollars, and bought him a cow, for 
 which I paid twenty dollars ; and a sow and pigs, that I 
 paid eight dollars for. I also paid sixteen dollars for 
 pork which I gave him, and furnished him with other 
 provisions and furniture ; so that his family was comfort- 
 able. As he was destitute of a team, I furnished him 
 with one, and also supplied him with tools for farming. 
 In addition to all this, I let him have one of Thomas' 
 cows, for two seasons. 
 
 My only object in mentioning his poverty, and the 
 articles with which I supplied him, is to show how 
 ungrateful a person can be for favors received, and how 
 soon they will apparently forget charitable deeds, and 
 conspire against the interest of a benefactor. 
 
 Thus furnished with the necessary implements of hus- 
 bandry, a good team, and as much land as he could till, 
 7* 
 
160 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 he commenced farming on mj' flats, and for some time 
 labored well. At length, however, he got an idea that if 
 he could become the owner of a part of my reservation, 
 he could live more easily, and certainly be more rich ; and 
 accordingly set himself about laying a plan to obtain it, 
 in the easiest manner possible. 
 
 I supported Jemison and his family eight years, and 
 probably should have continued to have done so to this 
 day, had it not been for the occurrence of the following 
 circumstance : 
 
 When he had lived with me some six or seven years, a 
 friend of mine told me that as Jemison was my cousin, 
 and very poor, I ought to give him a piece of land, that 
 he might have something whereon to live that he could 
 call his own. My friend and Jemison were then together 
 at my house, prepared to complete a bargain. I asked 
 how much land he wanted ? Jemison said that he should 
 be glad to receive his own field, (as he called it,) contain- 
 ing about fourteen acres, and a new one that contained 
 twenty-six. I observed to them that as I was incapable 
 of transacting business of that nature, I would wait till 
 Mr. Thomas Olute, (a neighbor on whom I depended,) 
 should return from Albany, before I should do anything 
 about it. To this Jemison replied, that if I waited till 
 Mr. Olute returned, he should not get the land at all ; and 
 appeared very anxious to have the business closed with 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 1 6 1 
 
 ijut delay. On my part, I felt disposed to give liim some 
 land ; but knowing my ignorance of writing, feared to do 
 it alone, lest they might include as much land as they 
 pleased, without my knowledge. 
 
 They then read the deed, which my friend had prepared 
 before he came from home, describing a piece of land by 
 certain bounds that were a specified number of chains 
 and links from each other. Not understanding the length 
 of a chain or link, I described the bounds of a piece of 
 land that I intended Jemison should have, which they 
 said was just the same that the deed contained, and no 
 more. I told them that the deed must not include a lot 
 that was called the Steele place, and they assured me 
 that it did not. Upon this — putting confidence in them 
 both — I signed the deed to George Jemison, containing, 
 and conveying to him, as I supposed, forty acres of land. 
 The deed being completed, they charged me never to 
 mention the bargain which I had then made to any per- 
 son ; because if I did, they said, it would spoil the con- 
 tract. The whole matter was afterward disclosed ; when 
 it was found that that deed, instead of containing only 
 forty acres, contained four hundred, and that one-half of 
 it actually belonged to my friend, as it had been given to 
 him by Jemison, as a reward for his trouble in procuring 
 the deed in the fraudulent manner above mentioned. 
 
 My friend, however, by the advice of some well-dispoaed 
 
l(ja LIFE OF MAST JEMISON. 
 
 people, a while afterward gave up his claim. George 
 Jemison, however, held on to his claim; but knowing 
 that he had no title to the land — even if I had then 
 possessed the power of coHveyiai=;, which it since appears 
 that I did not — as the deed was void, having been ob- 
 tained by falsehood and fraud, he dared not press his 
 claims under it himself, for fear of being punished for a 
 misdemeanor. He therefore sold his claim for a mere 
 trifle, to a gentleman in the south part of Genesee comity, 
 who lost that trifle, whatever it was. But had Jemison 
 been content with getting a deed of the forty acres which 
 I intended to have given him, and not have undertaken to 
 defraud me out of more, I should have made his title 
 good to that land when I did receive tb« power ; and the 
 forty acres would have been worth to him from forty to 
 fifty dollars per acre. This is another proof that, in all 
 cases, " honesty is the best policy." 
 
 Some time after the death of my son Thomas, one of 
 his sons went to Jemison to get the cow that I had let 
 him have for two years ; but Jemison refused to let her 
 go, and struck the boy so violent a blow as to almost kill 
 him. Jemison then ran to Jellis Clute, Esq., to procure 
 a warrant to take the boy ; but Young Bang, an Indian 
 chief, went down to Squawky Hill, to Mr. Clute's, and 
 settled the affair, by Jemison's agreeing never to use that 
 ilub again. Having satisfactorily found out the unfriend!'. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-inS. 
 
 163 
 
 disposition of my cousin toward me, I got him off my 
 premises as soon as possible. 
 
 I am now confident that Greorge Jemison is not my 
 cousin, tut that he claimed relationship only to obtain 
 assistance. 
 
 Ah-ta-qua-o-welj, Moccasin for Female. 
 
1*1 4 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER XTTI. 
 
 John Jemison murdered — His funeral, life, and character — His widow 
 and children — His murderers flee — Tall Chief's speech — They 
 return — Their fate. 
 
 Trouble seldom comes single. While George Jemison 
 was busily engaged in his pursuit of wealth at my ex- 
 pense, another event of a much more serious nature 
 occurred, which added greatly to my aiBictions, and con- 
 sequently destroyed at least a part of the happiness which 
 I had anticipated was laid up in the archives of Provi- 
 dence, to be disposed of on my old age. 
 
 My son John was a doctor, considerably celebi'ated 
 among the Indians of various tribes for his skill in curing 
 their diseases, by the administration of roots and herbs, 
 which he gathered in the forests, and other places, where 
 they had been planted by the hand of Nature. 
 
 In the month of April, or first of May, 1817, he was 
 called upon to go to Buffalo, Cattaraugus, and Alleghany, 
 to cure some who were sick. He went, and was absent 
 about two months. When he returned, he observed the 
 Great Slide of the bank of Genesee River, a short dis- 
 tance above my house, which had taken place during his 
 
GA-ON-SEH, OR BABY FBAMB. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 167 
 
 absence ; and, considering that circumstance to be omi- 
 nous of his own death, called at his sister Nancy's, told 
 her that he should live but a few days, and wept bitterly 
 at the near approach of his dissolution, Nancy endeav- 
 ored to persuade him that his trouble was imaginary, and 
 that he ought not to be affected by a fancy which was 
 visionary. Her arguments were ineffectual, and afforded 
 no alleviation to his mental sufferings. 
 
 From his sister's he went to his own house, where he 
 stayed only two nights, and then went to Squawky Hill, 
 to procure money, with which to purchase flour for the 
 use of his family. 
 
 While at Squawky Hill he got into the company of two 
 Squawky Hill Indians, whose names were Doctor and 
 Jack, with whom he drank freely, and in the afternoon 
 had a desperate quarrel, in which his opponents, as it 
 was afterward understood, agreed to kill him. The quar- 
 rel ended, and each appeared to be friendly. John bought 
 some spirits, of which they all drank, and then set out for 
 home. John and an Alleghany Indian were on horseback, 
 and Doctor and Jack were on foot. It was dark when 
 they set out. They had not proceeded far when Doctor 
 and Jack commenced another quarrel with John, clenched 
 and dragged him off his horse, and then with a stone gave 
 him so severe a blow on his head that some of his brains 
 were discharged from the wound. The Alleghany Indian, 
 
168 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 fearing that his turn would come next, fled for safety as 
 fast as possible. 
 
 John recovered a little from the shock he had received 
 and endeavored to get to an old hut that stood near; but 
 they caught him, and with an ax cut his throat, and 
 beat out his brains, so that when he was found, the con- 
 tents of his skull were lying on his arms. 
 
 Some squaws who heard the uproar, ran to find out the 
 cause of it ; but before they had time to offer their assist- 
 ance, the murderers drove them into a house, and threat- 
 ened to take their lives if they did not stay there, or if 
 they made any noise. 
 
 Next morning Mr. Clute sent me word that John was 
 dead ; and also informed me of the means by which his 
 life was taken. A number of people went from Gardeau 
 to where the body lay, and Dr. Levi Brundridge brought 
 it home, where the ftmeral was attended after the manner 
 of the white people. Mr. Benjamin Luther and Mr. William 
 Wiles preached sermons and performed the funeral ser- 
 vices ; and myself and family followed the corpse to the 
 grave as mourners. I had now buried my three sons, 
 who had been snatched from me by the hands of violence 
 when I least expected it. 
 
 Although John had taken the life of his two brothers, 
 and caused me unspeakable trouble and grief, his death 
 made a solemn impression upon my mind, and seemed, in 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 169 
 
 addition to my former misfortunes, enough to bring down 
 my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Tet, on a sec- 
 ond thought, I could not mourn for him as I had for my 
 other sons, because I knew that his death was juat, and 
 what he had deserved for a long time, from the hand of 
 justice. 
 
 John's vices were so great and so aggravated that I 
 have nothing to say in his favor ; yet, as a mother, I pit- 
 ied him while he lived, and have ever felt a great degree 
 of sorrow for him, because of his bad conduct. 
 
 From his childhood, he carried something in his fea- 
 tures indicative of an evil disposition, that would result 
 in the perpetration of enormities of some kind; and it 
 was the opinion and saying of Ebenezer Allen that he 
 would be a bad man, and be guilty of some crime deserv- 
 ing of death. There is no doubt but what thoughts of 
 murder rankled in his breast, and disturbed his mind even 
 in his sleep ; for he once dreamed that he had killed 
 Thomas for a trifling offense, and thereby forfeited his 
 own life. Alarmed at the revelation, and fearing that he 
 might in some unguarded moment destroy his brother, he 
 went to the Black Chief, to whom he told the dream, and 
 expressed his fears that the vision would be verified. 
 Having related the dream, together with his feelings on 
 the subject, he asked for the best advice that his old 
 friend was capable of giving, to prevent so sad an event. 
 
170 LIFE OF MART JEMISOK. 
 
 The Black OMef, with his usual promptitude, told him, 
 that from the nature of the dream he was fearful that 
 something serious would take place between him and 
 Thomas; and advised him by all means to govern his 
 temper, and avoid any quarrel which in future he might 
 see arising, especially if Thomas was a party. John, 
 however, did not keep the good counsel of the chief; for, 
 soon after he killed Thomas, as I have related. 
 
 John left two wives, with whom he had lived at the 
 same time, and raised nine children. His widows are now 
 living at Oanneada, with their father, and keep their chil- 
 dren with and near them. His children are tolerably 
 white, and have got light-colored hair. John died about 
 the last day of June, 1817, aged fifty-four years. 
 
 Doctor and Jack, having finished their murderous de- 
 sign, fled before they could be apprehended, and lay six 
 weeks in the woods back of Canisteo. They then re- 
 turned, and sent me some wampum by Chongo, my son- 
 in-law, and Sun-ge-gaw,* that is, Big Kettle, expecting 
 
 *" The greatest of all human cruues, murder, was punished with 
 death ; but the act was open to condonation. Unless the family weio 
 appeased, the murderer, as with the ancient Greeks, was given up to 
 their private vengeance. They could take his life wherever they found 
 him, even after the lapse of years, without being held accountable. A 
 present of white wampum sent on the part of the murderer to the 
 family of his victim, when accepted, forever obliterated the memory of 
 the transaction." — [Leagdk of the Iroquois, p. 831. 
 
DKH-HE-WA-MIS. 171 
 
 that I would pardon them, and suffer them to live as they 
 had done with their tribe. I, however, would not accept 
 their wampum, but requested that, rather than have them 
 killed, they would run away and keep out of danger. 
 
 On their receiving back the wampum, they took my 
 advice, and prepared to leave their country and people 
 immediately. Their relatives accompanied them a short 
 distance on their journey, and when about to part, their 
 old uncle, the Tall Chief, addressed them in the following 
 pathetic and sentimental speech : 
 
 "Friends, hear my voice! When the Great Spirit 
 made Indians, he made them all good, and gave them 
 all good cornfields ; good rivers, well stored with fish ; 
 good forests, filled with game, and good bows and arrows. 
 But very soon each wanted more than his share, and In- 
 dians quarreled with Indians, and some were killed, and 
 others were wounded. Then the Great Spirit made a 
 very good word, and put it in every Indian's breast, to 
 tell us when we have done good, or when we have done 
 bad — and that word has never told a lie. 
 
 " Friends ! whenever you have stole, or got drunk, or 
 lied, that good word has told you that you were bad 
 Indians, and made you afraid of good Indians ; and made 
 you ashamed, and look down. 
 
 " Friends ! your crime is greater than all those ; you 
 
172 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 have killed an Indian in a time of peace; and made the 
 wind hear his groans, and the earth drink his blood. You 
 are bad Indians ! Yes, you are very bad Indians ; and 
 what can you do? If you go into the woods to live 
 alone, the ghost of John Jemison will follow you, crying 
 " Blood ! blood ! " and will give you no peace. If you 
 go to the land of your nation, there that gbost will at- 
 tend you, and say to your relatives, " See my murderers ! " 
 If you plant, it will blast your corn ; if you hunt it will 
 scare your game ; and when you are asleep, its groans, 
 and the sight of an avenging tomahawk, will awake you ! 
 What can you do? Deserving of death, you can not 
 live here ; and to fly from your country, to leave all 
 your relatives, and to abandon all that you have known 
 to be pleasant and dear, must be keener than an arrow, 
 more bitter than gall, more terrible than death ! And 
 how must we feel? Your path will be muddy; the 
 woods wUl be dark ; the lightnings will glance down the 
 trees by your side, and you will start at every sound ! 
 Peace has left you, and you must be wretched. 
 
 " Friends, hear me, and take my advice. Eeturn with 
 us to your homes. OflFer to the Great Spirit your best 
 wampum, and try to be good Indians. And if those 
 whom you have bereaved shall claim your lives as their 
 only satisfaction, surrender them cheerfully, and die like 
 good Indians. And — " 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 173 
 
 Here Jack, highly incensed, interrupted the old man, 
 and bade him stop speaking, or he would take his life. 
 Affrighted at the appearance of so much desperation, the 
 company hastened toward home, and left Doctor and 
 Jack to consult their own feelings. 
 
 As soon as they were alone, Jack said to Doctor, " I 
 had rather die here than leave my country and friends. 
 Put the muzzle of your rifle into my mouth, and I wUl 
 put the muzzle of mine into yours, and at a given signal 
 we will discharge them, and rid ourselves at once of all 
 the troubles under which we now labor, and satisfy the 
 claims which justice holds against us." 
 
 Doctor heard the proposition, and, after a moment's 
 pause, made the following reply : "I am as sensible as 
 you can be of the unhappy situation in which we have 
 placed ourselves. "We are bad Indians. "We have for- 
 feited our lives, and must expect in some way to atone 
 for our crime. But, because we are bad and miserable, 
 shall we make ourselves worse 1 If we were now inno- 
 cent, and in a calm, reflecting moment should kill our- 
 selves, that act would make us bad, and deprive us of 
 our share of the good hunting in the land where our 
 fathers have gone ! "What would Little Beard say to us 
 on our arrival at his cabin? He would say, 'Bad In- 
 dians ! Cowards ! You were afraid to wait till we 
 wanted your help ! Go (jogo) to where snakes will lie 
 
174 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 in youi path ; where the panthers will starve you by de- 
 vouring the venison ; and where you will be naked, and 
 suifer with the cold ! Jogo ! (go,) none but the brave and 
 good Indians live here.' I can not think of performing 
 an act that will add to my wretchedness. It is hard 
 enough for me to suffer here, and have good hunting here- 
 after — worse, to lose the whole." 
 
 Upon this. Jack withdrew his proposal. They went 
 on about two miles, and then turned about and came 
 home. Guilty and uneasy, they lurked about Squawky 
 Hill near a fortnight, and then went to Cattaraugus, and 
 were gone six weeks. When they came back, Jack's wife 
 earnestly requested Mm to remove his family to Tona- 
 wanda; but he remonstrated against her project, and 
 utterly declined going. His wife and family, however, tired 
 of the tumult by which they were surrounded, packed up 
 their effects, in spite of what he could say, and went off. 
 Jack deliberated a short time upon the proper course for 
 himself to pursue ; and finally, rather than leave his old 
 home, he ate a large quantity of muskrat root, and died 
 in ten or twelve hours. His family, being immediately 
 notified of his death, returned to attend the burial, and 
 are yet living at Squawky Hill. 
 
 Nothing was ever done with Doctor, who continued to 
 live quietly at Squawky Hill till some time in the year 
 1819, when he died of consumption. 
 
DEH-IIE-WA-MI8. 1 75 
 
 OHAPTEE^XIV 
 
 Mary sells part of her reservation — The hardships of her life — Great 
 strength of constitution — Her temperance — Destructive effects 
 of ardent spirits among the Seneoas — Witchcraft — Accusations 
 against her — Executions for witchcraft — Her descendants. 
 
 In the year 1816, Micah Brooks, Esq., of Bloomfield, 
 Ontario county, and Jellis Olute, Esq., of Leicester, 
 began to negociate with me for the purchase of a part of 
 my land, as it lay in an unproductive state to me. Many 
 obstacles presented themselves in the transaction of the 
 business. In the first place, it was objected that I was 
 not a citizen of the United States, and could not legally 
 convey land, without a special act of the legislature. 
 To surmount this difficulty, Messrs. Brooks and Clute 
 procured a special act of the legislature of this state to 
 be passed, conferring naturalization on me, and confirming 
 my title to the land as far as that body could effect it. 
 It was then discovered that the assent of the chiefs of 
 the Seneca nation must be had to the conveyance, and 
 that the proceedings to obtain such assent must be in 
 council, under the superintendence of a commissioner 
 appointed by the President of the United States. 
 
176 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 After much delay and vexation in ascertaining what 
 was necessary to be done to effect the object in a legal 
 manner, and having consulted my children and friends, in 
 the winter of 1822-3, I agreed with Messrs. Brooks and 
 Olute, that if they would get the chiefs of our nation, 
 and a United States commissioner of Indian lands, to 
 meet in Moscow, Livingston county, N. Y., I would sell 
 to them all my right and title to the Gardeau reservation, 
 containing 17,927 acres, with the exception of a tract for 
 my own benefit, two miles long and one mile wide, lying 
 on Genesee River, where I should choose it; and also 
 reserving a lot I had promised to give to Thomas Clute, 
 as a recompense for his faithful guardianship over me and 
 my property for a long time. 
 
 The arrangement was agreed to, and the council assem- 
 bled on the third or fourth day of September last, at the 
 place appointed, consisting of Major Carrol, Judge Howell, 
 and N. Gorham, acting for and in behalf of the United 
 States government; Jasper Parish, Indian agent; Horatio 
 Jones, interpreter; and a large number of Seneca chiefs. 
 
 The bargain was assented to unanimously, and a deed 
 was executed and delivered by me and upward of twenty 
 chiefs, conveying all my right and title to the Gardeau 
 reservation, except the reservations before mentioned, to 
 Henry B. Gibson, Micah Brooks, and Jellis Olute, their 
 heirs and assigns forever. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 177 
 
 The tract which I reserved for myself begins at the 
 center of the Great Slide; thence running west one mile; 
 thence north two miles ; thence east about a mile to the 
 river; and thence running southerly up the river; and 
 bounding on the west bank to the place of beginning. 
 
 In consideration of the before-mentioned sale to Messrs. 
 Gibson, Brooks, and Clute, among other things, they 
 bound themselves, their heirs, assigns, etc., to pay to me, 
 my heirs or successors, three hundred dollars a year 
 forever. 
 
 When I review my life, the privations that I have suf- 
 fered, the hardships I have endured, the vicissitudes I 
 have passed, and the complete revolution that I have 
 experienced in my manner of living; when I consider my 
 reduction from a civilized to a savage state, and the 
 various steps by which that process has been effected, and 
 that my life has been prolonged, and my health and rea- 
 son spared, it seems a miracle that I am unable to account 
 for, and is a tragical medley that I hope will never be 
 repeated. The bare loss of liberty is but a mere trifle, 
 when compared with the circumstances that necessarily 
 attend, and are inseparably connected with it. It is the 
 recollection of what we once were, of the friends, the 
 home we have left, and the pleasures that we have lost; 
 the anticipation of misery, the appearance of wretched- 
 ness, the anxiety for freedom, the hope of release, the 
 
178 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 devising of means of escaping, and the vigilance witli 
 which we watch our keepers, that constitute the nauseous 
 dregs of the bitter cup of slavery. I am sensible, how- 
 ever, that no one can pass from a state of freedom to that 
 of slavery, and in the latter situation rest perfectly con- 
 tented; but as every one knows that great exei-tions of 
 the mind tend directly to debilitate the body, it will 
 appear obvious that we ought, when confined, to exert 
 all our faculties to promote our present comfort, and let 
 future days provide their own sacrifices. In regard to 
 ourselves, just as we feel, we are. 
 
 For the preservation of my life to the present time I 
 am indebted to an excellent constitution, with which I 
 have been blessed in as great a degree as any other per- 
 son. After I arrived to years of understanding, the care 
 of my own health was one of my principal studies; and 
 by avoiding exposures to wet and cold, by temperance in 
 eating, abstaining from the use of spirits, and shunning 
 the excesses to which I was frequently exposed, I effected 
 my object beyond what I expected. I have never once 
 been sick till within a year or two, only as I have related. 
 Spirits and tobacco I have never used, and I have 
 never once attended an Indian frolic. When I was taken 
 prisoner, and for some time after that, spirits were un- 
 known among the Indians ; and when they were first intro- 
 duced, it was in small quantities, and used only by the 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 1 79 
 
 Indians; so that it was a long time before the Indian 
 women began even to taste it. 
 
 After the French war, for a number of years it was 
 the practice of the Indians of our tribe to send to Niag- 
 ara and get two or three kegs of rum — in all six or eight 
 gallons — and hold a frolic as long as it lasted. When 
 the rum was brought to the town, all the Indians col- 
 lected, and before a drop was drank, gave all their knives, 
 tomahawks, guns, and other instruments of war, to one 
 Indian, whose business it was to bury them in a private 
 place, keep them concealed, and remain perfectly sober 
 till the frolic was ended. Having thus divested them- 
 selves, they commenced drinking, and continued their 
 frolic tUl every drop was consumed. If any of them 
 became quarrelsome, or got to fighting, those who were 
 sober enough bound them upon the ground, where they 
 were obliged to lie tUl they got sober, and then were un- 
 bound. When the fumes of the spirits had left the cosa- 
 pany, the sober Indian returned to each the instruments 
 with which they had entrusted him, and all went home 
 satisfied. A frolic of that kind was held but once a year, 
 and that at the time the Indians quit their hunting, and 
 came in with their deer-skins. 
 
 In those frolics the women never participated. Soon 
 after the Eevolutionary War, however, spirits became 
 common in our tribe, and have been used indiscriminately 
 
180 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 by both sexes ; though there are not so frequent instances 
 of intoxication among the squaws as among the Indians. 
 
 To the introduction and use of that baneful article 
 which has made such devastation in our tribes, and 
 threatens the extinction of our people, (the Indians,) I 
 can with the greatest propriety impute the whole of my 
 misfortune in losing my three sons. But as I have before 
 observed, not even the love of life will restrain an Indian 
 from sipping the poison that he knows will destroy him. 
 The voice of nature, the rebukes of reason, the advice of 
 parents, the expostulations of friends, and the numerous 
 instances of sudden death, are all insufficient to restrain 
 an Indian who has once experienced the exhilarating and 
 inebriating effects of spirits, from seeking his grave in 
 the bottom of the bottle. 
 
 My strength has been great for a woman of my size ; 
 otherwise I must long ago have died under the burdens 
 which I was obliged to carry. I learned to carry loads 
 on my back, supported by a strap placed across my fore- 
 head, soon after my captivity ; and continue to ca,rry in 
 the same way. Upward of thirty years ago, and with 
 the help of my young children, I backed all the boards 
 that were used about my house from Allen's mill at the 
 outlet of Silver Lake, a distance of five miles. I have 
 planted, hoed, and harvested corn every season but 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 181 
 
 one since I was taken prisoner. Even this present 
 fall, 1823, 1 Lave husked my corn, and backed it into the 
 house. 
 
 The first cow that I ever owned, I bought of a squaw 
 sometime after the Eevolution. It had been stolen from 
 the enemy. I had owned it but a few days when it fell 
 into a hole, and almost died before we could get it out. 
 After this, the squaw wanted to be recanted; but as I 
 would not give up the cow, I gave her money enough to 
 make, when added to the sum which I paid her at first, 
 thirty-five dollars. Cows were plenty on the Ohio, when 
 I lived there, and of good quality. 
 
 For provisions, I have never suffered since I came 
 upon the flats; nor have I ever been indebted to any 
 other hands than my own for the plenty that I have 
 shared. 
 
 I have never been accused of many vices. Some of 
 my children had light-brown hair, and tolerably fair skin, 
 which used to make some people say that I stole them ; 
 yet, as I was ever conscious of my own constancy, I never 
 thought that any one really believed that I was guilty of 
 adultery. It was believed for a long time, by some of 
 our people, that I was a great witch ; but they were una- 
 ble to prove my guilt, and consequently I escaped the 
 certain doom of those who are convicted of that crime. 
 
182 • LIFE OF MAKT JBMISON. 
 
 which, by the Indians, is considered as heinous as 
 murder. 
 
 The term in the Seneca language meaning witch ap- 
 plies equally to both sexes. They believe that there are 
 many witches, and that, next to the author of evil, they 
 are the greatest scourge to the people. The term denotes 
 a person to whom the evil deity has delegated power to 
 inflict diseases, cause death, blast corn, bring bad weather, 
 and, in short, to cause almost any calamity to which they 
 are liable. With this impression, and believing that it is 
 their actual duty to destroy, as far as is in their power, 
 every source of unhappiness, it has been a custom among 
 them from time immemorial, to destroy every one that 
 they could convict of so heinous a crime; and in fact 
 there is no reprieve from the sentence. 
 
 Executions for witchcraft are not an uncommon occur- 
 rence. More or less, charged with being witches, have 
 been executed in almost every year I have lived on the 
 Genesee. Many, on being suspected, made their escape ; 
 while others, before they were aware of being implicated, 
 have been apprehended and brought to trial. A number 
 of years ago, an Indian chased a squaw, near Little 
 Beard's Town, and caught her ; but on account of her 
 great strength she got away. The Indian, vexed and 
 disappointed, went home, and the next day reported that 
 
DEH-HE-WA-M18. 183 
 
 he saw her have fire in her mouth, and that she was a 
 witch. Upon this she was apprehended and killed imme- 
 diately. She was Bigtree's cousin. I was present at 
 that execution, and also saw another who had been con- 
 victed of being a witch, killed, and thrown into the river. 
 Thus, from the most trifling causes, thousands have lost 
 their lives through the superstitious fanaticism of the 
 pagan Indians, for they will not " suffer a witch to live." 
 
 I have been the mother of eight children; — three of 
 whom are now living, — and I have at this time thirty-nine 
 grand-children, and fourteen great-grand-children all 
 living in the neighborhood of Genesee Eiver, and at 
 Buffalo. 
 
 I live in my own house, and on my own land, with my 
 youngest daughter, Polly, who is married to George Chon- 
 go, and has three children. 
 
 My daughter Nancy, who is married to Billy Green, 
 lives about eighty rods south of my house, and has seven 
 children. 
 
 My other daughter, Betsey, is married to John Green, 
 has seven children, and resides eighty rods north of my 
 house. 
 
 Thus situated in the midst of my children, I expect I 
 shall soon leave the world, and make room for the rising 
 generation. I feel the weight of years with which I am 
 loaded, and am sensible of my daily failure, in seemg, 
 
184 r^IT"E OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 hearing, and strength; bnt my only anxiety is for my 
 family. If my family will live happily, and I can be ex- 
 empted from trouble while I have to stay, I feel as 
 though I could lay down in peace, a life that has been 
 checked in almost every hour, with troubles of a deeper 
 dye than are commonly experienced by mortals. 
 
 Ga-weli-gH, or Snow Shoe. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 186 
 
 CHAPTER XV.* 
 
 Life of Hi-ok-a-too, half-brother of Farmer's Brother — Naturally cru- 
 el — Inroad upon the Catawbaa in Tennessee — Present at Brad- 
 dock's defeat — Battle of Fort Freeland — Expedition to Cherry 
 Valley — His barbarity — Battle at Upper Sandusky — Colonel 
 Crawford taken, and burned at the stake — Dr. Knight's escape — 
 Hi-ok-a-too leads a war-party against the Cherokees — His personal 
 appearance — Dies of old age. 
 
 HiOKAToo was bom on the banks of the Susquehanna, 
 in the year 1708, in one of the tribes of the Senecas 
 which inhabited that region at the time of his birth. He 
 was own cousin to Farmer's Brother, a chief who had 
 been justly celebrated for his worth. Their mothers were 
 sisters, and it was through the influence of Farmer's Bro- 
 ther that I became Hiokatoo's wife. 
 
 In early life he showed signs of thirst for blood, by at- 
 tending only to the art of war, in the use of the toma- 
 hawk and scalping-knife, and in practicing cruelties upon 
 everything that chanced to fall into his hands which was 
 susceptible of pain. In that way he learned to use his 
 implements of war effectually, and at tho same time 
 
 * This chapter was added by Ebenezer Mix. 
 8* 
 
186 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 blunted all those finer feelings and tender sympathies that 
 are naturally excited by hearing or seeing a fellow-being 
 in distress. He could inflict the most excruciating tor- 
 tures upon his enemies, and prided himself upon Ms forti- 
 tude in having performed the most barbarous ceremonies 
 and tortures without the least degree of pity or remorse. 
 Thus qualified, when very young he was initiated into 
 scenes of carnage by being engaged in the wars that pre- 
 vailed among the Indian tribes. 
 
 When he was a young man, there lived in the same 
 tribe with him an old Indian warrior who was a great 
 counselor, by the name of Buck-in-je-hil-lish. Buckinje- 
 hillish having, with great fatigue, attended the council 
 when it was deliberating upon war, declared that none 
 but the ignorant made war, and that the wise men and 
 the warriors had to do the fighting. This speech exas- 
 perated his countrymen to such a degree that he was ap- 
 prehended and tried for being a witch, on the account of 
 his having lived to so advanced an age ; and because he 
 could not show some reason why he had not died before, 
 he was sentenced to be tomahawked by a boy on the 
 spot, which was accordingly done. 
 
 In 1731, Hiokatoo was appointed a runner, to assist in 
 collecting an army to go against the Catawbas, Chero- 
 kees, and other southern Indians. A large army was col- 
 lected, and after a long and fatiguing march, met its ene- 
 
UES-HE-WA-MIS 187 
 
 mies in what was then called the " low, dark, and Woody 
 lands," near the mouth of Red River, in what is now called 
 the state of Tennessee, at or near the site of the present vil- 
 lage of Clarksville, in the county of Montgomery. The 
 Catawbas and their associates had, by some means, been 
 apprised of their approach, and lay in ambush to take 
 them at once, when they should come within their reach, 
 and destroy the whole army. The northern Indians, with 
 their usual sagacity, discovered the situation of their ene- 
 mies, rushed upon the ambuscade, and massacred twelve 
 hundred on the spot. The battle continued for two days 
 and two nights with the utmost severity, in which the 
 northern Indians were victorious, and so far succeeded in 
 destroying the Catawbas that they at that time ceased to 
 be a nation. The victors suffered an immense loss in 
 killed; but gained the hunting-ground, which was their 
 grand object, though the Cherokees would not give it up 
 in a treaty, or consent to make peace. Bows and arrows 
 at that time were generally used as implements of Indian 
 warfare, although a few guns had been introduced. 
 
 From that time he was engaged in a number of battles, 
 in which, as in the Catawba and Cherokee wars, Indians 
 only were engaged, and made fighting his business till the 
 commencement of the French war. In those battles he 
 took a number of Indians prisoners, whom he killed by 
 tying them to trees, and setting small Indian boys to 
 
188 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 shooting at them with arrows, till death finished the mis- 
 ery of the sufferers ; a process that frequently took two 
 days for completion. 
 
 During the French war he was in every battle that 
 was fought on the Susquehanna and Ohio rivers; and 
 was so fortunate as never to have been taken prisoner. 
 
 At Braddock's defeat, he took two white prisoners, and 
 burnt them alive in a fire of his own kindling. 
 
 In 1777, he was in the battle at Fort Freeland, in 
 Northumberland county. Pa. The fort contained a great 
 number of women and children, and was defended only 
 by a small garrison. The force that went against it con- 
 sisted of one hundred British regulars, commanded by a 
 Colonel McDonald, and three hundred Indians under 
 Hiokatoo. After a short but bloody engagement, the 
 fort was surrendered. The women and children were 
 sent under an escort to the next fort below, and the men 
 and boys taken ofi" by a party of British to the general 
 Indian encampment. As soon as the fort had capitulat- 
 ed and the firing had ceased, Hiokatoo, with the help of a 
 few Indians, tomahawked every wounded American, while 
 earnestly begging with uplifted hands for quarter. 
 
 The massacre was but just finished when Captains 
 Dougherty . and Boon arrived with a reinforcement to 
 assist the garrison. On their arriving in sight of the 
 fort, they saw ^at it had surrendered, and that an Indian 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 189 
 
 was holding the flag. This so much inflamed Captain 
 Dougherty that he left his command, stepped forward, 
 and shot the Indian at the first fire. Another took the 
 flag, and had no sooner got it erected than Dougherty 
 dropped him as he had the first. A third presumed to hold 
 it, who was also shot down by Dougherty. Hiokatoo, 
 exasperated at the sight of such bravery, sallied out with 
 a party of his Indians, and killed Oapt's Dougherty, Boon, 
 and fourteen men, at the first fire. The remainder of 
 the two companies escaped by taking to flight, and soon 
 arrived at the fort which they had left but a few hours before. 
 
 In an expedition that went out against Cherry Valley 
 and the neighboring settlements, Captain David, a Mohawk 
 Indian, was first, and Hiokatoo the second in command. 
 The force consisted of several hundred Indians, who were 
 determined on mischief, and the destruction of the whites. 
 A continued series of wanton barbarity characterized 
 their career, for they plundered and burned every thing 
 that came in their way, and killed a number of persons, 
 among whom were a number of infants, whom Hiokatoo 
 butchered or dashed upon the stones with his own hands. 
 Besides the instances which have been mentioned, he was 
 in a number of parties during the Revolutionary War, 
 where he ever acted a conspicuous part. 
 
 The Indians, having removed the seat of their depre- 
 dations and war to the frontiers of Pennsylvania, Ohio, 
 
190 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 Kentucky, and the neighboring territories, assembled a 
 large force at Upper Sandusky, their place of general 
 rendezvous, from whence they went out to the various 
 places which they designed to sacrifice. 
 
 Tired of the desolating scenes that were so often wit- 
 nessed, and feeling a confidence that the savages might 
 be subdued, and an end put to their crimes, the American 
 government raised a regiment, consisting of three hun- 
 dred volunteers, for the purpose of dislodging them from 
 their cantonment, and preventing further barbarities. Col- 
 onel William Crawford, and Lieutenant-Colonel David 
 Williamson — men who had been thoroughly tried and 
 approved — were commissioned by General Washington 
 to take the command of a service that seemed all-important 
 to the welfare of the country. In the month of July, 
 1782, well armed, and provided with a suificient quantity 
 of provisions, this regiment made an expeditious march 
 through the wilderness to Upper Sandusky, where, as 
 had been anticipated they found the Indians assembled 
 in full force at their encampment, prepared to receive 
 an attack. 
 
 As Colonel Crawford and his brave men advanced, and 
 when they had got within a short distance of the town, 
 they were met by a white man, with a flag of truce from 
 the Indians, who proposed to Colonel Crawford, that, if 
 he would surrender himself and his men to the Indians, 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 191 
 
 their lives should be spared ; but that, if they persisted 
 in their undertaking, and attaclsed the town, they should 
 all be massacred to a man. 
 
 Crawford, while hearing the proposition, attentively 
 surveyed its bearer, and recognized in his features one of 
 his former schoolmates and companions, with whom he 
 was perfectly acquainted, by the name of Simon Gurty. 
 Gurty, but a short time before this, had been a soldier in 
 the American army, in the same regiment with Crawford ; 
 but on the account of his not having received the promo- 
 tion that he expected, he became disaffected, swore an 
 eternal war with his countrymen, fled to the Indians, and 
 joined them, as a leader well qualified to conduct them to 
 where they could satiate their thirst for blood, upon the 
 innocent, unoffending and defenseless settlers. Crawford 
 sternly inquired of the traitor if his name was not Simon 
 Gurty ; and being answered in the affirmative, he informed 
 him that he despised the offer which he had made ; and 
 that he should not surrender his army, unless he should 
 be compelled to do so by a superior force. 
 
 Gurty returned, and Crawford immediately commenced 
 an engagement that lasted till night, without the appear- 
 ance of victory on either side ; when the firing ceased, and 
 the combatants on both sides retired to take refreshment, 
 and to rest through the night. Crawford encamped in the 
 woods near half a mile from the town, where, after the 
 
192 LIFE OP MART JEMISON. 
 
 sentinels were placed, and each liad taken hia ration, they 
 slept on their arms, that they might be instantly ready in 
 case they should be attacked. The stillness of death 
 hovered over the little army, and sleep relieved the whole, 
 except the wakeful sentinels, who vigilantly attended to 
 their duty. But what was their surprise when they found, 
 late in the night, that they were surrounded by the In- 
 dians on every side, except a narrow space between them 
 and the town. Every man was under arms, and the oiB- 
 cers instantly consulted each other on the best method 
 of escaping ; for they saw that to fight would be useless, 
 and that to surrender would be death. 
 
 Crawford proposed to retreat through the ranks of the 
 enemy in an opposite direction from the town, as being the 
 most sure course to take. Lieutenant Colonel Williamson 
 advised to march directly through the town, where there 
 appeared to be no Indians, as the fires were yet burning. 
 
 There was no time or place for debates. Colonel Craw- 
 ford, with sixty followers, retreated on the route that he 
 had proposed, by attempting to rush through the enemy : 
 but they had no sooner got among the Indians than every 
 man was killed or taken prisoner. Among the prisoners 
 were Colonel Crawford, and Doctor Knight, surgeon of 
 the regiment. Lieutenant-Colonel Williamson, with the 
 remainder of the regiment, together with the wounded, 
 set out at the same time that Crawford did, went through 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 193 
 
 the town without losing a man, and, hy the help of good 
 guides, arrived at their homes in safety. 
 
 The next day after the engagement, the Indians dis- 
 posed of all their prisoners to the different tribes, except 
 Colonel Crawford and Doctor Knight ; but those unfor- 
 tunate men were reserved for a more cruel destiny. A 
 council was immediately held on Sandusky Plains, con- 
 sisting of all the chiefs and warriors, ranged in their cus- 
 tomary order, in a circular form ; and Crawford and 
 Knight were brought forward and seated in the center of 
 the circle. 
 
 The council being opened, the chiefs began to examine 
 Crawford on various subjects relative to the war. At 
 length they inquired who conducted the military opera- 
 tions of the American army on the Ohio and Susquehanna 
 rivers during the year before ; and who had led that army 
 against them with so much sMll, and such uniform success 1 
 Crawford, very honestly, and without suspecting any harm 
 from his reply, promptly answered that he was the man 
 who had led his countrymen to victory, who had driven 
 the enemy from the settlements, and by that means had 
 procured a great degree of happiness to many of his fellow- 
 citizens. Upon hearing this, a chief, who had lost a son 
 the year before, in a battle where Colonel Crawford com- 
 manded, left his station in the council, stepped to Craw- 
 
19'4 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 ford, blacked his face, and at the same time told him that 
 the next day he should be burned. 
 
 The council was immediately dissolved on its hearing 
 the sentence from the chief, and the prisoners were taken 
 off the ground, and kept in custody through the night. 
 Crawford now viewed his fate as sealed ; and, despairing 
 of ever returning to his home or his country, only dreaded 
 the tediousness of death, as commonly inflicted by the 
 savages, and earnestly hoped that he might be dispatched 
 at a single blow. 
 
 Early the next morning the Indians assembled at the 
 place of execution, and Crawford was led to the post — 
 the goal of savage torture, to which he was fastened. 
 The post was a stick of timber, placed firmly in the 
 ground, having an arm framed in at the top, and extend- 
 ing some six or eight feet from it, like the arm of a sign- 
 post. A pile of wood, containing about two cords, lay 
 about two feet from the place where he stood; which he 
 was informed was to be kindled into a fire that would 
 burn him alive, as many had been burned on the same 
 spot, who had been much less deserving than himself. 
 
 Gurty stood and composedly looked on the prepara- 
 tions that were making for the funeral of one of his for- 
 mer playmates, a hero by whose side be had fought; of a 
 man whose valor had won laurels which, if he could have 
 returned, would have been strewed upon his grave by his 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 195 
 
 grateful countrymen. Dreading the agony that be saw 
 he was about to feel, Crawford used every argument which 
 his perilous situation could suggest, to prevail upon 
 Grurty to ransom bim at any price, and deliver him, as it 
 was in his power, from savages and their torments. 
 Grurty heard his prayers and expostulations, and saw his 
 tears with indifference ; and finally told the forsaken vic- 
 tim that he would not procure bim a moment's respite, 
 nor afford him the most trifling assistance. 
 
 The colonel was then bound, stripped naked, and tied 
 by bis wrists to the arm which extended horizontally from 
 the post, in such a manner that bis arms were extended 
 over his head, with his feet just standing upon the ground. 
 This being done, the savages placed the wood in a circle 
 around him, at the distance of a few feet, in order that 
 bis misery might be protracted to the greatest length, and 
 then kindled it in a number of places at the same time. 
 The flames arose, and the scorching beat became almost 
 insupportable. Again be prayed to Gurty, in all the an- 
 guish of his torment, to rescue him from the fire, or shoot 
 bim dead upon the spot. A demoniac smile suffused the 
 countenance of Grurty, while he calmly replied to the 
 dying suppliant, that he had no pity for his suffering ; but 
 that he was then satisfying that spirit of revenge which 
 for a long time be bad hoped to have an opportunity to 
 wreak upon bim. Nature being almost exhausted from 
 
196 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 the intensity of the heat, he settled down a little, when 
 a squaw threw coals of fire and embers upon him, which 
 made him groan most piteously, while the whole camp 
 rung with exultation. During the execution, they mani- 
 fested all the ecstasy of a complete triumph. Poor Craw- 
 ford soon died, and was entirely consumed. 
 
 Thus ended the life of a patriot and hero, who had been 
 an intimate with General Washington, and who shared, 
 in an eminent degree, the confidence of that great, good 
 man, to whom, in the time of Eevolutionary perils, the 
 sons of legitimate freedom looked with a degree of faith in 
 his mental resources unequaled in the history of the world. 
 
 That tragedy being ended, Doctor Knight was informed 
 that on the next day he should be burned, in the sam« 
 manner that his comrade Crawford had been, at Lower 
 Sandusky. Hiokatoo, who had been a leading chief in the 
 battle with, and in the execution of Crawford, painted 
 Doctor Knight's face black, and then bound him, and gave 
 him up to two able-bodied Indians to conduct to the place 
 of execution. 
 
 They set off with him immediately, and traveled till 
 toward evening, when they halted to encamp tUl morning. 
 The afternoon had been very rainy, and the storm still 
 continued, which rendered it very difficult for the Indians 
 to kindle a fire. Knight, observing the difficulty under 
 which they labored, made them to understand, by signs, 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 197 
 
 that if they would unbind him, he would assist them. 
 They accordingly unloosed him, and he soon succeeded 
 in making a fire by the application of some dry stuff, 
 which, at considerable trouble, and displaying much inge- 
 nuity, he procured. While the Indians were warming 
 themselves, the Doctor continued to gather wood to last 
 through the night ; and in doing this he found a club, 
 which he placed in a situation whence he could take it 
 conveniently, whenever an opportunity should present 
 itself in which he could use it effectually. The Indians 
 continued warming, till at length the Doctor saw that 
 they had placed themselves in a favorable position for the 
 execution of his design, when, stimulated by the love of 
 life, he cautiously took his club, and, at two blows, knocked 
 them both down. Determined to finish the work of death 
 which he had so well begun, he drew one of their scalp- 
 ing-knives, with which he beheaded and scalped them 
 both. He then took a rifle, tomahawk, and some ammu- 
 nition, and directed his course for home, where he arrived 
 without having experienced any difficulty on his journey. 
 The next morning the Indians took the track of their 
 victim and his attendants, to go to Lower Sandusky, and 
 there execute the sentence which they had pronounced 
 upon him. But what was their surprise and disappoint- 
 ment, when they arrived at the place of encampment, 
 when they found their trusty friends scalped and decapi- 
 
198 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 tated, and that their prisoner had made his escape. Cha- 
 grined beyond measure, they immediately separated, and 
 went in every direction in pursuit of their prey ; but after 
 having spent a number of days unsuccessfully, they gave 
 up the chase, and retired to their encampment. 
 
 In the time of the French war, in an engagement which 
 took place on the Ohio Eiver, Hiokatoo took a British 
 colonel, by the name of Simon Canton, whom he carried 
 to the Indian encampment. A council was held, and the 
 colonel was sentenced to suffer death, by being tied on a 
 wild colt, with his face toward its tail, and then having 
 the colt turned loose, to run where it pleased. He was 
 accordingly tied on, and the colt let loose, agreeable to 
 the sentence. The colt ran two days, and then returned 
 with its rider yet alive. The Indians, thinking that he 
 would never die in that way, took him off, and made him 
 run the gauntlet three times ; but in the last race a squaw 
 knocked him down, and he was supposed to have been 
 dead. He, however, recovered, and was sold for fifty 
 dollars to a Frenchman, who sent him as a prisoner to 
 Detroit. On the return of the Frenchman to Detroit, the 
 colonel besought him either to ransom him or set him at 
 liberty, with so much warmth, and promised with so much 
 solemnity to reward him as one of the best of benefactors, 
 if he would let him go, that the Frenchman took his 
 word, and sent him home to his family. The colonel 
 
DEII-HE-WA-MIS. 199 
 
 remembered his promise, and in a short time sent his 
 deliverer one hundred and fifty dollars as a reward for 
 his generosity. 
 
 Since the commencement of the Eevolutionary War, 
 Hiokatoo has been in seventeen campaigns, four of which 
 were in the Cherokee war. He was so great an enemy to 
 the Cherokees, and so fully determined upon their subju- 
 gation, that on his march to their country, he raised his 
 own army for those four campaigns, and commanded it ; 
 and also superintended its subsistence. In one of those 
 campaigns, which continued two whole years without inter- 
 mission, he attacked his enemies on the Mobile, drove 
 them to the country of the Creek nation, where he con- 
 tinued to harass them, till, being tired of the war, he re- 
 turned to his family. He brought home a great number 
 of scalps, which he had taken from the enemy, and ever 
 seemed to possess an unconquerable determination that 
 the Cherolcees should be utterly destroyed. Toward the 
 close of his last fighting in that country, he took two 
 squaws, whom he sold on his way home, for money to 
 defray the expense of his journey. 
 
 Hiokatoo was about six feet four or five inches high, 
 large boned, and rather inclined to leanness. He was 
 very stout and active, for a man of his size. It was said, 
 by himself and others, that he had never found an Indian 
 who could keep up with him on a race, or throw him at 
 
200 
 
 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 wrestling. His eye was quick and penetrating ; and his 
 roice was of that thrilling and powerful kind, which, 
 among Indians, always commands attention. His health 
 was uniformly good. He was never confined by sickness, 
 till he was attacked with consumption, four years before 
 his death ; and although he had, from his earliest days, 
 been inured to almost constant fatigue, and exposed to 
 the inclemency of the weather in the open air, he seemed 
 lo lose the vigor of the prime of life only by the natural 
 decay occasioned by old age. 
 
 Ear-ring. 
 
DKH-HE-Wl-MlS. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Ebenezer Allen — The belt of wampum — He lives at Mary's honse — 
 Marries a squaw — Taken by the Indians — Escapes and secretes 
 himself — Fed by Mary — Taken again, tried, and acquitted — 
 Builds a great mill at Rochester — Marries a white woman — Ke- 
 moTes to Allen's creek — Marries a third wife — Removes to Cana- 
 da with two wives — Abandons the first — His death. 
 
 Sometime near the close of the Revolutionary War, a 
 white man, by the name of Ebenezer Allen, left his 
 people, in the state of Pennsylvania, on account of some 
 disaffection toward his countrymen, and came to the 
 Genesee River to reside with the Indians. He tarried at 
 Genishau a few days, and came up to Gardeau, where I 
 then resided. He was, apparently, without any business 
 that would support him ; but he soon became acquainted 
 with my son Thomas, with whom he hunted for a long 
 timfl, and made his home with him at my house. Winter 
 came on, and he continued his stay. * 
 
 When Allen came to my house, I had a white man 
 
 * "Ebenezer Allen was no hero, but, rather, a desperado. He warred 
 against his own raoe,- country, and color ; and vied with his savage al- 
 lies in deeds of cruelty and bloodshed. He was a native of New Jer- 
 sey." — [Tubner's Histoet of the Holland Pttbcbase, p. 297. 
 9 
 
202 LIFF OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 living on my land, who had a Nantiooke squaw for his 
 wife, with whom he had lived very peaeeahly; for he was 
 a moderate man commonly, and she was a kind, gentle, 
 cunning creature. It so happened that he had no hay for 
 his cattle ; so that in the winter he was ohliged to drive 
 them every day perhaps a mile from his house, to let 
 them feed on the rushes, which in those days were so nu- 
 merous as to nearly cover the ground. 
 
 Allen, having frequently seen the squaw in the fall, took 
 the opportunity when her husband was absent with his 
 cows, daily to make her a visit ; and in return for his 
 kindnesses she made and gave him a red cap, finished 
 and decorated in the highest Indian style. 
 
 The husband had for some considerable length of time felt 
 a degree of jealousy that Allen was trespassing upon his 
 rights, with the consent of his squaw ; but when he saw 
 Allen dressed in so fine an Indian cap, and found that his 
 dear Nanticoke had presented it to him, his doubts all 
 left him, and he became so violently enraged that he 
 caught her by the hair of her head, dragged her on the 
 ground to my house, a distance of forty rods, and threw 
 her in at the door. Hiokatoo, my husband, exasperated 
 at the sight of so much inhumanity, hastily took down 
 his old tomahawk, which for a while had lain idle, shook 
 it over the cuckold's head, and bade him jogo (i. e. go off.) 
 The enraged husband, well knowine: that he should feel a 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 203 
 
 blow if lie waited to hear the order repeated, instantly re- 
 treaitd, and went down the river to his cattle. We pro- 
 tected the poor Xanlicoke woman, and gave her victuals ; 
 and Allen sympathized with her in her misfortimes till 
 spring, when her husband came to her, acknowledged his 
 former errors, and that he had abused her without a cause, 
 promised a reformatioii, and she received him with every 
 mark of a renewal of her affection. They wem home lov- 
 ingly, and soon after removed to Xiagara. 
 
 The same spring, Allen commenced working my flats, 
 and continued to labor there till afber the peace of 17 S3. 
 He then went t-o Philadelphia on some business that de- 
 tained him bat a few days, and returned with a horse and 
 some dry goods, which he carried to a place that is now 
 called Mount Morris, where he built or bought a small 
 house. 
 
 The British and Indians on the Xiagara frontier, dissat- 
 isfied with the treaty of peace, were determined, at aU 
 hazards, to continne their depredations upon the white 
 settlements which lay between them and Albany. They 
 actually made ready, and were about setting out on an 
 expedition to that effect, when Allen (who by this lime 
 understood their system of war) took a belt of wampum, 
 which he had fraudulently procured, and carried it as a 
 token of peace fi«m the Indians to the commander of the 
 nearest American military post. The Indians were soon 
 
204 LIPK OP MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 answered by the American officer, that the wampum was 
 cordially accepted, and that a continuance of peace was 
 ardently wished for- The Indians, at this, were cha- 
 grined and disappointed beyond measure; but as they 
 held the wampum to be a sacred thing, they dared not go 
 against the import of its meaning, and immediately 
 buried the hatchet, as it respected the people of the 
 United States, and smoked the pipe of peace. They 
 however resolved to punish Allen for his officiousness in 
 meddling with their national affairs, by presenting the 
 sacred wampum without their knowledge; and went 
 about devising means for his detection. A party was 
 accordingly dispatched from Port Niagara to apprehend 
 him, with orders to conduct him to that post for trial, 
 or for safe keeping, till such time as his fate should be 
 determined upon in a legal manner. 
 
 The party came on ; but before it arrived at Gardeau, 
 Allen got news of its approach, and fled for safety, leav- 
 ing the horse and goods that he had brought from Phila- 
 delphia an easy prey to his enemies. He had not been 
 long absent when they arrived at Gardeau, where they 
 made diligent search for him till they were satisfied that 
 they could not find him, and then seized the effects which 
 he had left, and returned to Niagara. My son Thomas 
 went with them, with Allen's horse, and carried the goods. 
 
 Allen, on finding that his enemies had gone, came 
 
DEH-IIE-WA-MIS. 205 
 
 back to my house, where he lived as before ; but of his 
 return they were soon notified at Niagara, and Nettles, 
 (who married rdBcilla Ramsay,) with a small party of 
 Indians, came on to take him. He, however, by some 
 means found that they were near, and gave me his box 
 of money and trinkets to keep safely till he called for it, 
 and again took to the woods. Nettles came on, deter- 
 mined, at all events, to take him before he went back ; 
 and, in order to accomplish his design, he, with his Indians, 
 hunted in the day time, and lay by at night at my house; 
 and in that way they practiced for a njimber of days. 
 Allen watched the motions of his pursuers, and every 
 night after they had gone to rest, came home and got 
 some food, and then returned to his retreat. It was in 
 the fall, and the weatier was cold and rainy, so that he 
 suffered extremely. Some nights he sat in my chamber 
 till nearly daybreak, while his enemies were below ; and 
 when the time arrived, I assisted him to escape unnoticed. 
 Nettles at length abandoned the chase, went home, and 
 Allen, all in tatters, came in. By running in the woods 
 l>is clothing had become torn into rags, so that he was in 
 a suffering condition, almost naked. Hiokatoo gave him 
 a blanket, and a piece of broadcloth for a pair of trousers 
 Allen made his trousers himself, and then built a raft, on 
 which he went down the river to his own place at Mount 
 Morris. 
 
206 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 About that time he married a squaw, whose name was 
 Sally. 
 
 The Niagara people, finding that he was at his own 
 house, came and took him by surprise, and carried him to 
 Niagara. Fortunately for him, it so happened that just 
 as they arrived at the fort, a house took fire, and his keep- 
 ers all left him, to save the building if possible. Allen 
 had supposed his doom to be nearly sealed ; but, finding 
 himself at liberty, he took to his heels, left his escort to 
 put out the fire, and ran to Tonawanda. There an In- 
 dian gave him some refreshments, and a good gun, with 
 which he hastened on to Little Beard's Town, where he 
 found his squaw. Not daring to risk himself at that place, 
 for fear of being given up, he made her but a short visit, 
 and came immediately to Gardeau. 
 
 Just as he got to the top of the hill above the Gardeau 
 Flats, he discovered a party of British soldiers and In- 
 dians in pursuit of him ; and, in fact, they were so near 
 that he was satisfied that they saw him, and concluded 
 that it would be impossible for him to escape. The love 
 of liberty, however, added to his natural swiftness, gave 
 him sufficient strength to make his escape to his former 
 castle of safety. His pursuers came immediately to my 
 house, where they expected to have found him secreted, and 
 under my protection. They told me where they had seen 
 him but a few moments before, and that they were confi- 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 207 
 
 deut that it was within my power to put him into their 
 bands. As I was perfectly clear of having had any hand 
 in his escape, I told them plainly that I had not seen 
 him since he was taken to Niagara, and that I could give 
 them no information at all respecting him. Still unsatis- 
 fied, and doubting my veracity, they advised my Indian 
 brother to use his influence to draw from me the secret 
 of his concealment, which they had an idea that I con- 
 sidered of great importance, not only to him, but to my- 
 self. I persisted in my ignorance of his situation, and 
 finally they left me. 
 
 Although I had not seen Allen, I knew his place of 
 security, and was well aware that, if I told them the place 
 where he had formerly hid himself, they would have no 
 difficulty in making him a prisoner. 
 
 He came to my house in the night, and awoke me with 
 the greatest caution, fearing that some of his enemies 
 might be watching to take him at a time when, and in a 
 place where, it would be impossible for him to make his 
 escape. I got up, and assured him that he was then safe ; 
 but that his enemies would return early in the morning, 
 and search him out if it should be possible. Having given 
 him some victuals, which he received thankfully, I told 
 him to go, but to return the next night to a certain corner 
 of the fence near my house, where he would find a quantity 
 
208 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 of meal that I would have prepared and deposited there 
 for his use. 
 
 Early the next morning, Nettles and his company came 
 in while I was pounding the meal for Allen, and insisted 
 upon my giving him up. I again told them that I did not 
 know where he was, and that I could not, neither would 
 I, tell them any thing about him. I well knew that Allen 
 considered his life in my hands ; and although it was my 
 intention not to lie, I was fully determined to keep his 
 situation a profound secret. They continued their labor, 
 and examined, as they supposed, every crevice, gully, 
 tree, and hollow log in the neighboring woods, and at last 
 concluded that he had left the country, gave him up for 
 lost, and returned home. 
 
 At that time Allen lay in a secret place in the gulf, a 
 short distance above my flats, in a hole that he accident- 
 ally found in a rock near the river. At night he came and 
 got the meal at the corner of the fence as I had directed 
 him, and afterward lived in the gulf two weeks. Each 
 night he came to the pasture and milked one of my cows, 
 without any other vessel in which to receive the milk than 
 his hat, out of which he drank it. I supplied him with 
 meal, but, fearing to build a fire, he was obliged to eat it 
 raw, and wash it down with the milk. Nettles having 
 left our neighborhood, and Allen considering himself safe. 
 
DEfi-HE-WA-MIS. 209 
 
 left his little cave, and came home. I gave him his box 
 of money and trinkets, and he went to his own house at 
 Mount Morris. It was generally considered, by the In- 
 dians of our tribe, that Allen was an innocent man, and 
 that the Niagara people were persecuting him without a 
 just cause. Little Beard, then about to go to the east- 
 ward on public business, charged his Indians not to 
 meddle with Allen, but to let him live among them 
 peaceably, and enjoy himself with his family and property 
 if he could. Having the protection of the chief, he felt 
 himself safe, and let his situation be known to the whites, 
 from whom he suspected no harm. They, however, were 
 more inimical than our Indians, and were easily bribed 
 by Nettles to assist in bringing him to justice. Nettles 
 came on, and the whites, as they had agreed, gave poor 
 Allen up to him. He was bound, and carried to Niagara, 
 where he was confined in prison through the winter. In 
 the spring he was taken to Montreal or Quebec for trial, 
 and was honorably acquitted. The crime for which he 
 was tried was for having carried the wampum to the 
 Americans, and thereby putting too sudden a stop to 
 their war. 
 
 From the place of his trial he went directly to Phila- 
 delphia, and purchased on credit a boat-load of goods, 
 which he brought by water to Oonhocton, where he left 
 
 them, and came to Mount Morris for assistance to get 
 9* 
 
210 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 them brought on. The Indians readily went with horses, 
 and brought them to his hyuse, where he disposed of his 
 dry goods; but not daring to let the Indians begin to 
 drink strong liquor, for fear of the quarrels which would 
 naturally follow, he sent his spirits to my place, where 
 we sold them. For his goods he received ginseng roots, 
 principally, and a few skins. Ginseng at that time was 
 plenty, and commanded a high price. We prepared the 
 whole that he received for the market, expecting that he 
 would carry them to Philadelphia. In that I was disap- 
 pointed ; for, when he had disposed of, and got pay for, 
 all his goods, he took the ginseng and skins to Niagara, 
 and there sold them, and came home. 
 
 Tired of dealing in goods, he planted a large field of 
 corn on or near his own land, attended to it faithfully, and 
 succeeded in raising a large crop, which he harvested, 
 loaded into canoes, and carried down the river to the 
 mouth of Allen's creek, then called by the Indians Gin-is- 
 a-ga, where he unloaded it, built him a house, and lived 
 with his family. 
 
 The next season he planted corn at that place, and 
 built a grist and saw-mill on Genesee Falls, now called 
 Rochester. 
 
 At the time Allen built the mills, he had an old Ger- 
 man living with him by the name of Andrews, whom he 
 sent in a canoe down the river with his mill-irons. Allen 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 211 
 
 went down at the same time ; but, before they got to the 
 mills, Allen threw the old man overboard, as it was then 
 generally believed, for he was never seen or heard of 
 afterward. 
 
 In the course of the season in which Allen built his 
 mills, he became acquainted with the daughter of a white 
 man who was moving to Niagara. She was handsome, 
 and Allen soon got into her good graces, so that he 
 married and took her home, to be a joint partner with 
 Sally, the squaw, whom she had never heard of till she 
 got home and found her in full possession ; but it was too 
 late to retrace the hasty steps she had taken, for her father 
 had left her in the care of a tender husband, and gone on 
 She, however, found that she enjoyed at least an equal 
 half of her husband's affections, and made herself con- 
 tented. Her father's name I have forgotten, but her's 
 was Lucy. 
 
 Allen was not contented with two wives, for in a short 
 time after he had married Lucy he came up to my house, 
 where he found a young woman who had an old husband 
 with her. They had been on a long journey, and called 
 at my place to recruit and rest themselves. She filled 
 Allen's eye, and he accordingly fixed upon a plan to get 
 her into his possession He praised his situation, enu- 
 merated his advantages, and finally persuaded them to 
 go home and tarry with him a few days at least, and par- 
 
212 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 take of a part of his comforts. They accepted his gene- 
 rous invitation, and went home with him. But they had 
 been there but two or three days, when Allen took the 
 old gentleman out to view his flats ; and as they were 
 deliberately walking on the bank of the river, pushed him 
 into the water. The old man, almost strangled, suc- 
 ceeded in getting out ; but his fall and exertions had so 
 powerful an effect upon his system that he died in two or 
 three days, and left his young widow to the protection of 
 his murderer. She lived with him about one year, in a 
 state of concubinage, and then left him. 
 
 How long Allen lived at Allen's creek I am unable to 
 state ; but soon after the young widow left him, he re- 
 moved to his old place at Mount Morris, and buUt a 
 house, where he made Sally — his squaw, by whom he had 
 two daughters — a slave to Lucy, by whom he had one 
 son; still, however, he considered Sally to be his wife. After 
 Allen came to Mount Morris at that time, he married a 
 girl by the name of Morilla Gregory, whose father, at the 
 time, lived on Genesee Flats. The ceremony being over, 
 he took her home to live in common with his other wives ; 
 but his house was too small for his family — for Sally and 
 Lucy, conceiving that their lawful privileges would be 
 abridged if they received a partner, united their strength, 
 and whipped poor Morilla so cruelly that he was obliged 
 to keep her in a small, Indian house, a short distance 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 213 
 
 from his own, or lose her entirely. Morilla, before she 
 left Mount Morris, had four children. 
 
 One of Morilla's sisters lived with Allen about a year 
 after MorUla was married, and then quit him. 
 
 A short time after they had been living at Mount Mor- 
 ris, Allen prevailed upon the chiefs to give to his Indian 
 children a tract of land two miles square, where he then 
 resided. The chiefs gave them the land, but he so art- 
 fully contrived the conveyance that he could apply it 
 to his own use, and by alienating his right, destroy the 
 claim of his children. 
 
 Having secured the land in that way to himself, he 
 sent his two Indian girls to Trenton, N. J., and his white 
 son to Philadelphia, for the purpose of giving each of 
 them a respectal^^Miglish education. 
 
 While his cMpPn were at school, he went to Phila- 
 delphia, and sold his right to the land, which he had 
 begged of the Indians for his children, to Robert Morris. 
 After that, he sent for his daughters to come home, which 
 they did. 
 
 Having disposed of the whole of his property on the 
 Genesee River, he took his two white wives and their 
 children, together with his effects, and removed to Dela- 
 ware Town, on the River De Trenm, in Upper Canada. 
 When he left Mount Morris, Sally, his squaw, insisted 
 upon going with him, and actually followed him, crying 
 
214 LIFE OP MART JEMISON. 
 
 bitterly, and praying for his protection, some two or three 
 miles, till he absolutely bade her leave him, or he would 
 punish her with severity. At length finding her case 
 hopeless, she returned to the Indians. 
 
 At the great treaty in 1797, one of Allen's daughters 
 claimed the Mount Morris tract, which her father had sold 
 to Robert Morris. The claim was examined, and decided 
 against her, in favor of Morris' creditors. 
 
 He died at the Delaware Town, on the River De Trench, 
 in the year 1814 or 1815, and left two white widows and 
 one squaw, with a number of children, to lament his loss. 
 
 By his last will, he gave all his property to his last 
 wife, Morilla, and her children, without providing in the 
 least for the support of Lucy, or any of the other mem- 
 bers of his family. Lucy, soon after his death, went with 
 her children down the Ohio River, to receive assistance 
 from her friends. 
 
 In the Revolutionary War, Allen was a Tory, and by 
 that means became acquainted with our Indians, when 
 they were in the neighborhood of his native place, deso- 
 lating the settlements on the Susquehanna. In those 
 predatory battles he joined them, and for cruelty was not 
 exceeded by his Indian comrades. 
 
 At one time, when he was scouting with the Indians, 
 he entered a house very early in the morning, where he 
 found a man, his wife, and one child, in bed. The man 
 
DBH-HE-WA-MIS. 215 
 
 iustantly sprang on the floor, for the purpose of defending 
 himself and little family ; but Allen dispatched him at 
 one blow. He then cut off his head, and threw it, bleeding, 
 into the bed with the terrified woman ; took the little in- 
 fant from its mother's breast, dashed its head against the 
 jamb, and left the unhappy widow and mother, to mourn 
 alone over her murdered family. It has been said by 
 some, that, after he had killed the child, he opened the 
 fire, and buried it under the coals and embers; but of 
 that I am not certain. I have often heard him speak of 
 that transaction with a great degree of sorrow, and as 
 the foulest crime he had ever committed — one for which 
 I have no doubt he repented.* 
 
 * " Governor Simcoe gi'anted him three thousand acres of land, upon 
 condition that he would build a saw-mill, a grist-mill, and a church — 
 all but the church to be hia property. He performed his part of the 
 contract, and the title to his land was confirmed. In a few years, he 
 had his mills, a comfortable dwelling, large improvements, was a good 
 liver, and those who knew him at that period represent him as hospit- 
 able and obliging. 
 
 About the year 1806, or ISC'?, reverses began to overtake him. At 
 one period he was arrested, and tried for forgery ; at another, for pass- 
 ing counterfeit money ; at another, for larceny. He was acquitted of 
 each offense upon trial. He was obnoxious to many of hia white 
 neighbors, and it is likely that at least two of the charges against him 
 arose out of a combination that was promoted by personal enmity. All 
 this brought on embarrassments, which terminated in an almost entire 
 loss of hia large property. He died m 1814." — Tubnee's Histoey op 
 IHJE Holland Pubchase, p. 302-3. 
 
iJi&~-> LIFE OF MAEY JKMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Government of the Iroquois — Civil and Military Chiefe — Oounael- 
 ors— Religious Beliefs — The Great Spirit— The Evil Spirit — 
 Religious festivals — Sacrifice of the White Dog — The Dance — 
 Marriage Customs — Chastity of the Indian — Polygamy. 
 
 The government of the Six Nations when they were in 
 the zenith of their prosperity and power, was an oligarchy, 
 composed of a mixture of elective and hereditary power ; 
 and to the skeleton of such a government the remnant of 
 the race still adhere. Their government was adminis- 
 tered by chiefs — each tribe having two ; one of whom 
 was hereditary, and the other elective ; the term of whose 
 office was during good behavior, and might be removed 
 for any real or supposed sufficient cause, which, however, 
 was seldom put in execution. The elective sachem was 
 the military chieftain, whose duty it was, to attend to all 
 the military concerns of the tribe, and command the war- 
 riors in battle. They were both members of the general 
 council of the confederacy, as well as of the national 
 council, which met as often as necessity required, and 
 settled all questions, involving matters in which their own 
 nation only had an interest ; but the general council of 
 the confederacy met but once a year, except in cases of 
 
DEH-HE-Wi-MIS. 217 
 
 emergency. It then met at Onondaga, being the head- 
 quarters of the most central nation, where all great ques- 
 tions of general interest, such as peace and war — the 
 concerns of tributary nations, and all negociations with 
 the French and English were debated, deliberated upon, 
 and decided. All decisions made by the chiefs of a tribe, 
 which affected the members of that tribe only — all de- 
 cisions of the national council, solely relative to the affairs 
 of that nation, (a majority of chiefs concurring,)*and all 
 decisions of the general council of the confederacy, were 
 laws and decrees from which there was no appeal. There 
 is also a class of counselors in the several tribes, who 
 have great influence over, but no direct voice in the de- 
 cision of any question, t 
 
 * The author has fallen into an error in this particular. It was a 
 fiindamental law of the confederacy, and also of each nation, that the 
 chiefs "must be of one mind;" that is, unanimous. — [Ed. 
 
 |"At the institution of the league fifty permanent sachemships were 
 created, with appropriate names ; and in the sachems who held these 
 titles were yested the supreme power of the confederacy. To secure 
 order in the succession, and to determme the individuals entitled, the 
 sachemships were made hereditary, under limited and peculiar laws oi 
 descent. The sachems themselves were equal in rank and authority, 
 and instead of holding separate territorial jurisdictions, their powers 
 were joint and co-extensive with the league. As a safeguard against 
 contention and fraud, such sachem was " raised up," and invested with 
 his title, by a council of all the sachems, with suitable forms and cere- 
 monies. Until this ceremony of confirmation or investiture, no one 
 could become a ruler. He received, when raised up, the name of the 
 
218 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 Perhaps no people are more exact observers of religious 
 duties, than those Indians among the Senecas who are 
 denominated Pagans, in contradistinction from those, who, 
 having renounced some of their former superstitions no- 
 tions, have obtained the name of Christians. The tradi- 
 tionary faith of their fathers, having been orally trans- 
 mitted to them from time immemmorial, is implicitly 
 believed, scrupulously adhered to, and rigidly practiced. 
 They are agreed in their sentiments — are all of one order ; 
 
 sachemship itself, as in the case of the titles of nobility, and so also 
 did his successors, from generation to generation. The sachemships 
 were distributed unequally between the five nations. Nine of tijiem 
 were assigned to the Mohawk nation, nine to the Oneida, fourteen to 
 the Onondaga, ten to the Cayuga, and eight to the Seneca. The ^,- 
 chems, united, formed the council of the League — the ruling body in 
 whom resided the executive, legislative, and judicial authority. 
 
 It thus appears that the government of the Iroquois was an oligarchy, 
 taking the term, at least, in the literal sense, "the rule of the few;" 
 and while more system is observable in this, than in the oligarchies of 
 antiquity, it seems, also, better calculated in its framework to resist 
 
 political changes Next t» the sachems, in position, stood the 
 
 chiefs — an inferior class of rulers, the very existence of whose ofiBce 
 was an anomaly in the oligarchy of the Iroquois. The office of chief 
 was made elective, and the reward of merit ; but without any power 
 
 of descent, the title terminating with the individual After 
 
 their election they were raised up by a council of the nation ; but a 
 ratification by the general council of the sachems was necessany to 
 complete the investiture. The powers and duties of the sachems and 
 chiefs were entirely of a civil character, and confined by their organic 
 laws to the affairs of peace."— [Lkaouk op the Iroquois, p.'62-7l. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 219 
 
 individaal and public good, especially among themselves, 
 being the great motive which excites them to attend to 
 those moral virtues that are directed and explained by 
 all their rules, and in all their ceremonies. 
 
 Many years have elapsed since the introduction of 
 Christian missionaries among them, whom they have 
 heafld, and very generally understand the purport of the 
 message they were sent to deliver. They say that it is 
 highly probable that Jesus Christ came into the world in 
 old times, to establish a religion that would promote the 
 happiness of the white people on the other side of the 
 great water, (meaning the sea;) and that he died for the 
 sins of his people, as the missionaries have informed 
 tifem. But, they say that Jesus Christ had nothing to 
 do with them ; and that the Christian religion was not 
 designed for their benefit ; but rather, should they em- 
 brace it, they are confident it would make them worse, 
 and consequently do them an injury. They say also, 
 that the Great Good Spirit gave them their religion ; and 
 that it is better adapted to their circumstances, situation, 
 and habits, and to the promotion of their present comfort, 
 and ultimate happiness, than any system that ever has or 
 can be devised. They, however, believe that the Chris- 
 tian religion is better calculated for the good of white 
 people than theirs is, and wonder that those who have 
 embraced it, do not attend more strictly to its precepts. 
 
220 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 and feel more engaged for its support and diffusion among 
 themselves. At the present time, they are opposed to 
 preachers or schoolmasters being sent or coming among 
 them, and appear determined by all means to adhere to 
 their ancient customs. 
 
 They believe in a Great Good Spirit, whom they call in 
 the Seneca language Nau-wah-ne-u,* as the creator of the 
 world, and of every good thing ; that he made men, and 
 all inoffensive animals; that he supplies men with all 
 the eomforts of life ; and that he is particularly partial to 
 the Indians, who, they say, are his peculiar people. They 
 also believe that he is pleased in giving them (the Indians) 
 good gifts ; and that he is highly gratified with their good 
 conduct, that he abhors their vices, and that he is willing to 
 punish them for their bad conduct, not only in this world but 
 in a future state of existence. His residence, they suppose, 
 lies at a great distance from them, in a country that is 
 perfectly pleasant, where plenty abounds, even to profu- 
 sion. That there the soil is completely fertile, and the 
 seasons so mild that the corn never fails to be good — 
 that the deer, elk, buffalo, turkeys, and other useful ani- 
 mals, are numerous, and that the forests are well calculated 
 to facilitate their hunting them with success — that the 
 streams are pure, and abound with fish; and nothing is 
 wanting, to render fruition complete. Over this terri- 
 
 * Bd-wen-nl-yu. — [Ed. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 221 
 
 tory they say Nauwahneu presides as an all-powerful 
 king ; and that without counsel he admits to his pleasures 
 all whom he considers to be worthy of enjoying so great 
 a state of blessedness. To this Being they address 
 prayers, offer sacrifices, give thanks for favors, and per- 
 form many acts of devotion and reverence. 
 
 They likewise believe that Nauwahneu has a brother 
 that is less powerful than himself, and who is opposed to 
 him, and every one that is or wishes to be good ; that this 
 Bad Spirit* made all evil things, snakes, wolves, cata- 
 mounts, and all other poisonous or noxious animals and 
 beasts of prey, except the bear, which, on the account of 
 the excellence of its meat for food, and skin for clothing, 
 they say was made by Nauwahneu. Besides all this, 
 they say he makes and sends them their diseases, bad 
 weather, and bad crops ; and that he makes and supports 
 witches. He owns a large country adjoining that of his 
 brother, with whom he is continually at variance. His 
 fields are unproductive; thick clouds intercept the rays 
 of the sun, and consequently destructive frosts are fre- 
 quent ; game is very scarce, and not easily taken ; raven- 
 ous beasts are numerous ; reptiles of every poisoned tooth 
 lie in the path of the traveler ; the streams are muddy j 
 and hunger, nakedness, and general misery, are severely 
 felt by those who unfortunately become his tenants. He 
 
 * ffa-^e-go-ate-geh, the "Evil-minded." — [Ed. 
 
222 LIFE OF MARY JKMISON. 
 
 takes pleasure in afflicting the Indians here, and, afier 
 their death, receives all those into his dreary dominions 
 who, in their lifetime have been so vile as to be rejected 
 by Nauwahneu, under whose eye they are continued in 
 an uncomfortable state for ever. To this source of evil 
 they offer some oblations, to abate his vengeance, and 
 render him propitious. They, however, believe him to be, 
 in a degree, under subjection to his brother, and incapable 
 of executing his plans only by his high permission. Pub- 
 lic religious duties are attended to in the celebration of 
 particular festivals and sacrifices, which are observed with 
 circumspection, and attended with decorum. In each 
 year they have five feasts,* or stated times for assembling 
 in their tribes, and giving thanks to Nauwahneu, for the 
 blessings which they have received from his kind, liberal, 
 
 * " Six regular festivals, or ' thanksgivings,' were obserred by the 
 Iroquois. The first in the order of time was the Maple festival. This 
 was a return of thanks to the maple itself, for yielding its sweet waters. 
 Next was the Planting festival, designed chiefly as an invocation of the 
 Great Spirit to bless the seed. Third came the Strawberry festival, 
 instituted as a thanksgiving for the first fruits of the earth. The 
 fourth was the Green Com fesiival, designed as a thanksgiving 
 acknowleilgfirjr-nt for the ripening of the com, beanti, and gquashcs. 
 Next wag cel<;brated the Harvest festival, instituted as a general 
 thanksgiving to 'our supporters,' after the gathering of the harvest. 
 Last in the enumeration is placed the New Ye.'ii's festival, the great 
 jubilee of the Iroquois, at which the white dog was sacrificed." — 
 
 [LKAGt* OF THE InOQUOlS, p. 183. 
 
DEH-IIK-WA-JU8. 223 
 
 and provident hand; and also to converse ufxm the best 
 nwans of meriting a continuance of his favors. The first 
 ijf these feasts is iinrnediately after they have finished 
 sugaring, at which time they give thanks for the favorable 
 weather and great quantity of sap they have had, and 
 for the sugar that they have been allowed to make for the 
 benefit of their families. At this, as at all the succeeding 
 feasts, the chiefs arise singly, and address the audience in 
 a kind of exhortation, in which they express their own 
 thankfulness, urge the necessity and propriety of general 
 gratitude, and point out the course which ought to be 
 pursued by each individual, in order that Nauwahneu may 
 continue to bless them, and that the evil spirit may be 
 defeated. 
 
 On these occasion.s the ehiefM describe a perfectly 
 straight line, half an inch wide, and perhaps ten miles 
 long, which they direct their people to travel upon, by 
 placing one foot before the other, with the heel of one 
 foot on the toe of the other ; and so on till they arrive at 
 the end. The meaning of which is, that they must not 
 turn aside to the right hand or to the left into the paths 
 of vice ; but keep straight ahead in the way of well-doing, 
 that will lead them to the paradise of Nauwahneu. 
 
 The second feast is after planting ; when they render 
 thanks for the pleasantnesH of the season ; for the good 
 time they have had for preparing thdr ground and plant- 
 
224 LIPK OF MAET JEMI80N. 
 
 ing their corn ; and are instructed by their chiefs by what 
 means to merit a good harvest. 
 
 When the green corn becomes fit for use, they hold 
 their third or green corn feast. Their fourth is celebrated 
 after corn harvest ; and the fifth at the close of their 
 year, and is always celebrated at the time of the old moon 
 in the last of January or first of February. This last 
 deserves particular description. 
 
 The Indians having returned from hunting, and having 
 brought in all the venison and skins that they have taken, 
 a committee is appointed, consisting of from ten to twenty 
 active men, to superintend the festivities of the great 
 sacrifice and thanksgiving that is to be immediately cele- 
 brated. This being done, preparations are made at the 
 council-house, or place of meeting, for the reception and 
 accommodation of the whole tribe ; and then the cere- 
 monies are commenced ; and the whole is conducted with 
 a great degree of order and harmony, under the direction 
 of the committee. 
 
 Two white dogs, without spot or blemish, are selected, 
 (if such can be found, and if not, two that have the fewest 
 spots,) from those belonging to the tribe, and killed near 
 the door of the council-house, by being strangled. A 
 wound on the animal, or an effusion of blood, would spoil 
 the victim, and render the sacrifice useless. The dogs 
 are then painted red on their faces, edges of their ears, and 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 225 
 
 on various parts of their bodies, and are curiously decorated 
 with ribbons of different colors, and fine feathers, which 
 are tied and fastened on in such a manner as to make the 
 most elegant appearance. They are then hung on a post 
 near the door of the council-house, at the hight of twenty 
 feet from the ground. The practice of sacrificing two dogs 
 was formerly strictly adhered to, but at present they sacri- 
 fice only one. This being done, the frolic is commenced 
 by those who are present, while the committee run through 
 the tribe, and hurry the people to assemble, by knocking 
 on their houses. At this time the committee are naked — 
 wearing only a breech-clout — and each carries a paddle, 
 with which he takes up ashes, and scatters them about the 
 house in every direction. In the course of the ceremonies, 
 all the fire is extinguished in every hut throughout the 
 tribe, and new fire, struck from the flint on each hearth, is 
 kindled, after having removed the whole of the ashes, old 
 coals, etc. Having done this, and discharged one or two 
 guns, they go on ; and in this manner they proceed till they 
 have visited every house in the tribe. This finishes the 
 business of the first day. 
 
 On the second day, the committee dance, go through the 
 town with bearskin on their legs ; and at every time they 
 start they fire a gun. They also beg through the tribe, 
 each carrying a basket in which to receive whatever may 
 
 be bestowed. The alms consist of Indian tobacco, and 
 10 
 
'SM LIKE Ob' MAKV JIOMISON. 
 
 otlur lutioU's that, uro utit'd fov inconso or saorifui*. Kiu'h 
 manager, at this tinio, carries a diiod tortoise or turtlo 
 sholl, coiitainiug a tow beai\s, wliioh he tVoquently rubs on 
 the walls of tlio lunisos, both inside and out. This kind 
 of niananivring bv tbo couiniittee continues two or throo 
 davs, during wliich time tbo i>ooplo at the counoil-houso 
 reoroiite thtnnsolves by dauoiuir. 
 
 t)u tbo fourth or llflli da>-, tbo munmittoi' nuiko falso 
 I'aoos of the huslss, in wbioli they run about, uuiking a 
 frightful but ludicrous a|)poai'auoe. Tn this dross, still 
 ■wearing the bearskin, tboy run to tbo council bouse, smear- 
 ing themselves with dirt, and liodaub excrj' one wbo refuses 
 to contribute sonielbing toward tilling the basket of in- 
 cense, which tliey continue to carry, soliciting alms. l)ur- 
 ing all this tinus tliey collect the Kvil Spirit, or drive it 
 oft" entirely, for the present, and also conceutrate within 
 tlieuisolves all the sins of their tribe, however nunu>rous 
 or heinous. 
 
 On tlie eighth or ninth day, the committee having 
 received all their sins, as before observed, into their 
 own bodies, they take down the dogs ; and after having 
 transfused the whole of them into "no of tiieir own num- 
 ber, he, by a peculiar sleight of hand, or kind of nuigie, 
 works them all out of himself into the dogs. The dogs, 
 thus loaded with all the sins of the people, are placed 
 upon a pile of wood, that is directly set on lire. Here 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 227 
 
 they are buraed, together with the sins with wnich 
 they were loaded, surrounded by the multitude, who 
 throw incense of tobacco, or the like, into the fire, the 
 scent of which, they say, goes up to Nauwahneu, to whom 
 it is pleasant and acceptable.* 
 
 * " On the morning of the fifth day, soon after dawn, the white dog 
 was burned on an altar of wood, erected by the " keepers of the faith," 
 near the council-house. It is difficult, from outward observation, to 
 draw forth the true intent with which the dog was burned. The ob- 
 scurity with which the object was veiled has led to various conjec- 
 tures. Among other things, it has been pronounced a sacrifice for 
 sin. In the religious system of the Iroquois there is no recognition 
 of the doctrine of atonement for sin, or of the absolution or forgive- 
 ness of sins. Upon this whole subject their system is silent. An act 
 once done, was registered beyond the power of change. The greatest 
 advance upon this point of faith was, the belief that good deeds can- 
 celled the evil, thus placing heaven, through good works, within the 
 reach of all. The notion that this was an expiation for sin is thus 
 refiited by their system of theology itself. The other idea, that the 
 sins of the people, by some mystic process, were transferred to the 
 dog, and by him thus borne away, on the principle of the scapegoat 
 of the Hebrews, is also without any foundation in truth. The bijining 
 of the dog had not the slightest connection with the sin of the people. 
 On the contrary, the simple' idea of the sacrifice was, to send up the 
 spirit of the dog as a messenger to the Great Spirit, to announce their 
 continued fidelity to his service, and, also, to convey to him their 
 united thanks for the blessings of the year. The fidelity^<rf the dog, 
 the companion of the Indian, as a hunter, was emblematical of their 
 fidehty. No messenger so trusty could be found, to bear their peti- 
 tions to the Master of Life. The Iroquois believed that the Great 
 Spirit made a covenant with their fathers, to the effect that, when 
 
228 LIFE OF MAET JEMISON. 
 
 This feast formerly continued nine days, but at present 
 it is not usually held more than from five to seven, 
 although until within a few years nine days were strictly 
 observed ; and during that time the chiefs review the 
 national affairs of the year past ; agree upon the best plan 
 to be pursued through the next year, and attend to all 
 internal regulations. 
 
 On the last day, the whole company partake of a dinner 
 in common, consisting of meat, corn, and beans, boiled 
 together in large kettles, and stirred till the whole is com- 
 pletely mixed and soft. This mess is devoured without 
 much ceremony. Some eat with a spoon, by dipping out 
 of the kettles ; others serve themselves in small dippers ; 
 some in one way, and some in another, till the whole is 
 consumed. After this, they perform the war-dance, the 
 peace-dance, and smoke the pipe of peace ; and then, free 
 from iniquity, each repairs to his place of abode, prepared 
 to commence a new year. In this feast, temperance is 
 observed, and commonly order prevails in a greater 
 degree than would naturally be expected. 
 
 They are fond of the company of spectators, who are 
 disposed to be decent, and treat them politely in their 
 
 they should send up to him the spirit of a dog, of a spotless white, he 
 would receive it as a pledge of their adherence to his worship, and his 
 ears would thus be opened in a special degree to their petitions." — 
 [LsAaUS 01' THE Iboqitois, p. 216. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 229 
 
 way; but having been fi-equently imposed upon by the 
 whites, they treat them generally with indifference. 
 
 Even their dances appear to be religious rites, espe- 
 cially their war and peace dances. The war-danco is 
 said to have originated about the time that the Six Na- 
 tions, or Northern Indians, commenced the old war with 
 the Oherokees and other southern Indian nations, about 
 one hundred years ago. 
 
 When a tribe, or a number of tribes, of the Six Nations 
 had assembled for the purpose of going to battle with 
 their enemies, the chiefs sang this song, and accompa- 
 nied the music with dancing, and gestures that corre- 
 sponded with the sentiments expressed, as a kind of stim- 
 ulant to increase their courage and anxiety, to march 
 forward to the place of carnage. 
 
 Those days having passed away, the Indians at this 
 day sing the " war-song," to commemorate the achieve- 
 ments of their fathers, and as a kind of amusement. 
 When they perform it, they arm themselves with a war- 
 club, tomahawk, and knife, and commence singing with a 
 firm voice, and a stem, resolute countenance ; but before 
 they get through, they exhibit in their features and 
 actions the most shocking appearance of anger, fury, and 
 vengeance, that can be imagined. No exhibition of the 
 kind can be more terrifying to a stranger. 
 
230 UPE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 The peace-dance is performed to a tune without words, 
 by both sexes. The Indians stand erect, in one place, 
 and strike the floor with the heel and toes of one foot, 
 and then of the other, (the heels and toes all the while 
 nearly level,) without changing their position in the least. 
 The squaws at the same time perform it, by keeping the 
 feet close together, and, without raising them from the 
 ground, move a short distance to the right, and then to 
 left, by first moving their toes, and then their heels. This 
 dance is beautiful, and is generally attended with decency. 
 
 No people on earth appear to be so strictly moral — 
 in conformity to their laws and customs — as the North 
 American Indians generally, in their intercourse between 
 the sexes. The several nations have different forms of 
 approaching to courtship and marriage, which, however, 
 are all very similar — most of the tribes tolerate and 
 practice polygamy and divorce ; some, however, do not. 
 Among the Senecas, both are tolerated, and practiced to 
 some extent. 
 
 Tor neither marriage nor divorce is there any particu- 
 lar form or ceremony, other than when an Indian sees a 
 squaw whom he fancies, he sends a present to her mother 
 or parents, who, on receiving it, consult with his parents, 
 his friends, and each other, on the propriety and expe- 
 diency of the proposed connection. If it is not agreeable. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 231 
 
 the present is returned; but if it is, the lover is informed 
 of his good fortune, and immediately goes to live with 
 her, or takes her to a hut of his own preparing* 
 
 * "Marriage waa not founded upon the affections, which constitute 
 the only legitimate basis of this relation in civilized society, but was 
 regulated exclusively as a matter of physical necessity. It was not 
 even a contract between the parties to be married ; but substantially 
 between their mothers, acting oftentimes under the suggestions of the 
 matrons and wise men of the tribes to which the parties respectively 
 belonged. 
 
 * * * When the mother considered her son of a suitable age 
 for marriage, she looked about her for a maiden, whom, from report or 
 acquaintance, she judged would accord with him in disposition and 
 temperament. A negotiation between the mothers ensued, and a con- 
 clusion was speedily reached. Sometimes the near relatives, and the 
 elderly persons of the tribes to which each belonged, were consulted ; 
 but their opinions were of no avail, independently of the wishes of the 
 mothers themselves. Not the least singular feature of the transaction 
 was the entire ignorance in which the parties remained of the pending 
 negotiation ; the first intimation they received being the announce- 
 ment of their marriage, without, perhaps, ever having known or seen 
 each other. Bemonstrance or objection on their part was never 
 attempted ; they received each other as the gift of their parents. As 
 obedience to them in all their requirements was inculcated as a para- 
 mount duty, and disobedience was followed by disownment, the opera- 
 tive force of custom, in addition to these motives, wag sufficient to 
 secure acquiescence. The Indian father never troubled himself con- 
 cerning the marriage of his children. To mterfere would have been 
 an invasion of female immunities ; and these, whatever they were, were 
 as sacredly regarded by him, as he was inflexible in enforcing respect 
 for his own. * » * » 
 
 "From the very nature of the marriage institution among the Iroquois, 
 
232 LIFE OF MAKY JEMISON. 
 
 If a difficulty of importance arises between a married 
 couple, they agree to separate. They divide their prop- 
 erty and children ; the squaw takes the girls, the Indian 
 the boys, and both are at liberty to marry again. 
 
 From all history and tradition, it would appear that 
 neither seduction, prostitution, nor rape, was known in 
 the calendar of crimes of this rude savage race, until the 
 females were contaminated by the embrace of civilized 
 man. And it is a remarkable fact, that, among the great 
 number of women and girls who have been taken prison- 
 ers by the Indians during the last two centuries, although 
 
 it follows that the passion of love was entirely unknown among them. 
 Affection after marriage would naturally spring up between the parties, 
 from association, &om habit, and from mutual dependence ; but of that 
 marvelous passion which originates in a higher development of the 
 powers of the human heart, and is founded upon a cultivation of the 
 affections between the sexes, they were entirely ignorant. In their 
 temperaments they were below this passion in its simplest forms. 
 
 " Attachments between individuals, or the cultivation of each other's 
 affections before marriage, was entirely unknown ; so also were pro- 
 mises of marriage. The fact that individuals were united in this rela- 
 tion, without their knowledge or consent, and perhaps without even a 
 previous acquaintance, illustrates and confirms this position. This in- 
 vasion of the romances of the novelist, and of the conceits of the poet, 
 upon the attachments which sprang up in the bosom of Indian society, 
 may, perhaps, divest the mind of some pleasing impressions ; but these 
 are entirely inconsistent with the marriage institution, as it existed 
 among them, and with the facts of their social history." — [Leaqde of 
 THE Ieoqdois, pp. 320-323. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 233 
 
 they have often been tomahawked and scalped, their bod- 
 ies ripped open while alive, and otherwise barbarously 
 tortured, not a single instance is on record, or has ever 
 found currency in the great stock of gossip and story 
 which civilized society is so prone to circulate, that a fe- 
 male prisoner has ever been ill-treated, abused, or her 
 modesty insulted, by an Indian, with reference to her sex. 
 This universal trait in the Indian character can not be 
 wholly, if in the least, attributed to the cold temperament 
 of their constitutions — the paucity of their animal func- 
 tions, or want of natural propensities — for polygamy is 
 not only tolerated but extensively indulged in, among 
 nearly all the North American tribes. Of this we have 
 the most abundant proof, not relying solely on the testi- 
 mony of Mrs. Jemison, who states that it was tolerated 
 and practiced in the Seneca nation, but on the statements 
 of all writers on that subject, and of all travelers and 
 sojourners in the Indian country. 
 
 Major Marston, commanding officer at the U. S. Fort 
 Armstrong, in the North-western Territory, in 1820, in an 
 official report to our government, relative to the condition, 
 customs, religion, etc. of the various tribes of the North- 
 western Indians, states, that " many of these Indians have 
 two or three wives; the greatest number that I have 
 known any man to have at one time, was five. When an 
 
 lindian wants more than one wife, he generally prefers 
 10* 
 
234 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 that they be sisters, as they are more likely to agree, and 
 live together in harmony. A man of fifty or sixty years 
 old, who has two or three wives, will frequently marry a 
 girl of sixteen." 
 
 On the other hand, this abstemiousness can not be at- 
 tributed to the dictates of moral virtue, as that would be 
 in direct opposition to all their other traits of character. 
 And, again, no society or race of men exists, so purely 
 moral, but that, if there was any crime within their power 
 to perpetrate, to which they were prompted by their 
 passions, some one or more would be guilty of commiting 
 it, if restrained by moral virtue only. 
 
 Therefore we are driven to the conclusion, that the 
 young warrior has been taught and trained up from his 
 infancy, to subdue this passion ; and to efi"ect that object, 
 he has been operated upon by some direful, superstitious 
 awe, and appalling fear of the consequences of the vio- 
 lation of female chastity ; and, with the same anathema 
 held to his view, taught to avoid temptation, by demean- 
 ing himself perfectly uninquisitive and modest, in the 
 presence of females, and especially female prisoners. It 
 is not supposed, however, that great exertions are made 
 at the present day, to instill those prejudices, if I may be 
 allowed so to apply the word, into the Indian youth, for 
 those dicta have been so long promulgated, and obedience 
 thereto so rigidly enforced, through so many generations 
 
DEH-HE-Wl-MIS. 235 
 
 that they have become an inborn characteristic of the 
 race. 
 
 We can easily perceive the policy of the ancient found- 
 ers of this precautionary branch of savage education, and 
 it is worthy of the paternity of a Solon. By this precau- 
 tion, jealousy, feuds, strife, and bloodshed, are avoided 
 among the warriors, while they are out on their predatory 
 excursions, stealthily seizing prisoners, scalps, or plunder 
 by night, or warily and noiselessly winding their course 
 through the forest by day. 
 
 Face of Ear ring. 
 
236 LIFE OF MAKY JEMISON. 
 
 QHAPTER XVIII* 
 
 Life of Mary continued — Seneca Reservations sold in 1825 — Is lefl 
 among tlie whites — Discontented — Sold her remaining reserva- 
 tion, and removed to Buffalo creek — Professes Christianity — Her 
 death — Is buried near the Mission church — Description of her 
 tombstone — Her descendants. 
 
 More than eighteen years have elapsed since Mary 
 Jemison related the preceding narrative of her life, and 
 most of its appendages, to our deceased fi'iend, the au- 
 thor of the first edition; during which period many im- 
 portant incidents have transpired, and material changes 
 taken place involving the destiny of the principal sub- 
 ject of this memoir, her family and friends, although 
 none very remarkable or unexpected. 
 
 Mary Jemison continued to reside on her flats, plant, 
 hoe, and harvest her corn, beans, squashes, etc., annually, 
 in the same routine of laborious activity and undisturbed 
 tranquility, which she nad always pursued and enjoyed, 
 in times of peace in the nation, and concord in her family. 
 But the evening of her eventful life was not suffered 
 thus smoothly to pass away. The Senecas having sold 
 all their reservations on the Genesee River in 1825, and 
 
 • This chapter was written by Ebenezer Mix, Esqr. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 237 
 
 given possession to the whites soon after, they removed 
 with their families to Tonawanda, Buffalo Creek, and 
 Cattaraugus reservations, leaving Mrs. Jemison, her 
 daughters, and their husbands, on her two square miles, 
 surrounded by the whites in every direction. Thus situ- 
 ated, she and her children grew as discontented and un- 
 easy, as Alexander Selkirk was on the Island of Juan 
 Fernandez. 
 
 They determined to leave their solitary and isolated 
 abode among the whites, and again join their tribe, mix 
 in the society, and partake of the joys and the sorrows 
 of their kindred and friends. With this in view, Mrs. 
 Jemison sold her annuity of three hundred dollars per 
 annum, or rather, received of the obligors a commutation 
 therefor, in ready money. She likewise sold her remain- 
 ing two square miles of land, including her "flats," to 
 Messrs. Henry B. Gibson and Jellis Clute. In the sum- 
 mer of 1831, she removed to Buffalo Creek reservation, 
 where she purchased the Indian possessory right to a good 
 farm on the Buffalo Flats, on which she resided in a state 
 of peace and quietude, until the time of her decease. 
 
 Mrs. Jemison's good traits- of character were not 
 wholly of the negative kind ; she exhibited a rare exam- 
 ple of unostentatious charity and true benevolence. She 
 appeared to take pleasure and self-satisfaction in reliev- 
 ing the distress, and supplying the wants of her fellow- 
 
238 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 creatures, whether white or red ; any thing she possessed, 
 however much labor it might have cost her, was freely 
 given, when she thought the necessities of others required 
 it. It would redound much to the honor of the Christian 
 religion, if some of its members would pattern, in some 
 measures, after the pagan woman, in practicing this most 
 exalted of Christian virtues, charity, in feelings as well as 
 in actions. 
 
 The bodily infirmities of old age gradually increased 
 in Mrs. Jemison, and enervated her frame ; yet she re- 
 tained her reason and mental faculties to an uncommon 
 extent, for a person of her age ; and her society was not 
 only endurable, but rendered highly interesting and de- 
 sirable, by her natural exuberant flow of animal spirits 
 and good nature. In the summer of 1833, she, in a peacea- 
 ble and friendly manner, seceded from the pagan party of 
 her nation, and joined the Christian party, having in her 
 own view, and to the satisfaction of her spiritual instruc- 
 tor, the Eev. Asher Wright, missionary at that station, 
 repudiated paganism, and embraced the Christian religion. 
 In the autumn succeeding, she Was attacked by disease 
 for almost the first time in her protracted pilgrimage, and 
 dropped away suddenly from the scenes of this life, on 
 the 19th day of September, 1833, at her own dwelling on 
 the Buffalo Creek reservation, aged about ninety-one years. 
 Her funeral was conducted after the manner, and with 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 239 
 
 the usual ceremonies practiced at Christian burials; 
 and was attended by a large concourse of people. A 
 marble slab now marks the spot where her earthly re- 
 mains rest, in the graveyard near the Seneca Mission 
 church, with the following inscription : 
 
 In 
 
 Memory of 
 The White Woman, 
 
 MARY JEMISON, 
 
 Daughter of 
 
 Thomas Jemison & Jane Iewin, 
 
 Born on the ocean, between Ireland and Phila., in 1742 or 3. Taken 
 
 captire at Marsh Creek, Pa. in 1765 carried down the Ohio, Adopted 
 
 into an Indian family. In 1769 removed to Genesee Eiver. Was 
 
 naturalized in 1817. 
 
 Removed to this place in 1831. 
 
 And having survived two husbands and five children, leaving three 
 
 still alive ; 
 
 She Died Sept 19th 1833 aged about ninety-one years. 
 
 Having a few weeks before expressed a hope of pardon through 
 
 Jesus Christ, 
 
 " The counsel of the Lord that shall stand." 
 
 Mrs. Jemison's three children, Betsey, Nancy, and 
 Polly, who survived her, all lived respected, and died re- 
 gretted, at their several places of residence on the Seneca 
 reservations, in the short space of three months, in the 
 autumn of 1839, aged, respectively, sixty-nine, sixty-three, 
 
240 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 
 
 and fiily-eight years, leaving a large number of cMldren 
 and grandchildren to lament their loss. 
 
 Jacob Jamison, the grandson of Mrs. Jemison, men- 
 tioned by her in Chapter X, as having received a liberal 
 education, and having commenced the study of medicine, 
 passed through a regular course of medical studies, with 
 great success, and was appointed an assistant surgeon in 
 the United States Navy ; in which capacity he sustained 
 an excellent moral, social, and professional character, 
 which requires no stronger confirmation, than the laconic 
 eulogium pronounced by Capt. E., the commander of the 
 vessel on board of which he performed duty. Oapt. E., 
 being asked by a gentleman who had known Jemison 
 when a boy, how he sustained the character of his situ- 
 ation, promptly replied : ■' There is no person on board 
 the ship so generally esteemed as Mr. Jemison, nor a 
 better surgeon in the navy." Dr. Jemison died five or 
 six years ago, on board his ship in the Mediterranean 
 squadron, when about forty years of age. 
 
 Several of the grandchildren of Mrs. Jemison, now 
 living, are highly respected in their nation ; while their 
 talents and moral standing are duly appreciated, and their 
 civilities reciprocated among the whites. They have ac- 
 quired the use of the English language sufficiently to 
 speak it fluently, and have adopted the dress, habits, and 
 manners of civilized society. Her grandchildren and 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 241 
 
 great-grandcMldren are numerous : tliey reside on the 
 remaining Seneca reservations in this state, at present ; 
 but will, undoubtedly, ere long, take their departure from 
 the land of their fathers, and assume important positions 
 in legislative and judicial stations in the new Indian terri- 
 tory west of the Mississippi* 
 
 * " The author, in his boyhood, has often seen the ' White Woman,' 
 as she was uniformly called by the early settlers ; and remembers well 
 the general esteem in which she was held. 
 
 Notwithstanding she had one son who was a terror to Indians as 
 well as to the early white settlers, she has left many descendants who 
 are not unworthy of her good name. Jacob Jemison, a grandson of 
 hers, received a liberal education, passed through a course of medical 
 studies, and was appointed assistant surgeon in the United States Navy. 
 He died on board of his ship in the Mediterranean." [Tdkner's Hist. 
 
 OF THE HOLLASD PURCHASE, p. 296. 
 
242 LIFE OF MAET JEMI60N. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ACCOITNT OF A VISIT TO THE CATTAKAUGUS EBSBRVA- 
 TION IN 1873, BY WM. 0. BKTANT, ESQ. 
 
 Mary Jemison's Indian Name — Loss of all her Property — 
 James and David Shongo— Buffalo Tom, the present head 
 of the Jemison Family — His Household and how they 
 Live. 
 
 Narratives of the experiences of men and women 
 whom shipwreck, or the hazards of war, have thrown 
 upon the mercy of savage tribes, are invested with a 
 peculiar and painful charm for every class of readers. 
 In all the range of this department of literature, there 
 is no story more full of pathos and tragic interest than 
 that of Mary Jemison, as related in her own artless 
 words. 
 
 In the hope of adding some few particulars to the 
 somewhat meagre sketch contributed by the late Mr. 
 Mix (Chapter xviii.) concerning the later history of 
 the captive, the writer, in the month of November, 
 1873, visited the Cattaraugus Reservation and con- 
 sulted some of her descendants, as well as the venera- 
 ble and esteemed missionaries. Rev. Asher Wright 
 and his wife. The results of the inquiries made at 
 that time are embodied in the present chapter. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIB. 243 
 
 The orthography of the name conferred upon the 
 captive by the two gentle Indian women who adopted 
 her as their sister is incorrectly given in the body of 
 this work, and the signification is erroneously rendered. 
 The name should be wi'itten Deh-ge-wa-nus, and means 
 literally The-Two-Falling- Voices. The Indians, in 
 pronouncing the name make a circular or undulat- 
 ing sweep of the hand downwards to emphasize the 
 idea of a prolonged or dying cadence. The simple- 
 minded and affectionate beings, who bestowed this 
 name, evidently meant to keep alive the fact that the 
 little pale-faced stranger, whom they had taken to 
 their hearts in place of a brother fallen on the war- 
 path, had brushed away their tears with her tiny 
 hands, and lulled the voice of their sorrow. A refer- 
 ence to the ceremony observed on her being adopted 
 as a Seneca child will show the peculiar appositeness 
 of the name. 
 
 Immediately after migrating to Buffalo, Mrs. Jemi- 
 son purchased the cabin and a small piece of ground 
 which were the possession or property of an Indian 
 known as Little Johnson, situated a short distance 
 south of the old Seneca burial ground. Her house- 
 hold consisted of herself, her daughter Polly, and 
 son-in-law, George Shongo, and five little grand- 
 children, three of whom were boys and two were 
 girls. 
 
 She brought with her the proceeds of the sale of 
 her Genesee river lands, — a sum not more than suffi- 
 
244 LIFE OF MAET JEMI80N. 
 
 cient, with prudent management, to render her last 
 days comfortable, and to make a reasonable provision 
 for her grandchildren, of whom she was very fond. It 
 must be added with regret,^although the circum- 
 stance harmonizes with the mournful tenor of her 
 whole life, — that this little fortune was soon after 
 her removal to Buffalo lost through an unfortunate 
 speculation on the part of a white man to whose cus- 
 tody she had confided it. 
 
 Mary Jemison was a rich landed proprietress on the 
 Genesee, and it must have been a hard blow, the dis- 
 covery that her few remaining days were to be spent 
 in poverty and dependence. It is known, however, 
 that her simple wants were supplied by her daughter 
 and son-in-law, who were not wanting in filial love 
 and attention to this aged and sorrow-stricken 
 woman. 
 
 Mrs. Wright kindly consented to put on paper an 
 account of the last hours of the captive. It will be 
 found in the next chapter, and forms an important 
 sequel to Mr. Seaver's work. It is believed that there 
 are few hearts so hardened as to be unmoved by the 
 matchless pathos of Mrs. Wright's narrative. 
 
 George and Polly Shongo died many years ago, and 
 but two of their children now survive. The older of 
 these, David Shongo, is an inmate or a frequent visi- 
 tor at the Mission House, where the writer saw him 
 at the period of his visit. From infancy he was char- 
 acterized by feebleness of intellect, and is, in truth, a 
 
DEU-HE-WA-MI8. 245 
 
 simple-minded, affectionate creature, and a great 
 favorite at tlie Mission. 
 
 With his long, romantic locks of coal-black hair ; 
 his clear olive complexion; his large, melancholy- 
 eyes gazing at you from under the shadow of a 
 slouched and plumed hat; his apparel clean yet 
 thriftily patched, and betraying the wearer's love of 
 finery by skillfully disposed brooches and ribbons, 
 he looked more like the mild type of a gipsy poacher, 
 or a Spanish contrabandero, of gentle and humane in- 
 stincts, than a descendant of the ruthless and red- 
 handed Hiokatoo. 
 
 He speaks English brokenly, but in soft and musical 
 tones: "Genesee Valley, — beautiful country, — far, 
 far off," indicating with a sweep of the arm its direc- 
 tion, " When we broke up and came away, grand- 
 mother sent me to gather the herds. I found most of 
 them, but some had wandered away into the woods, 
 and they no hear my call. They — there — now in 
 the woods. Often, often I listen in the night, when 
 it is still, and I hear them calling after me, ' Moo ! 
 moo ! moo! '" 
 
 James Shongo, the youngest of the five children, 
 resides with his family on the Allegany Reservation. 
 He practises the healing art according to the primitive 
 formulas of the Indians, and enjoys a considerable 
 white as well as Indian patronage. James was his 
 gi'andmother'p favorite among Polly's children, and 
 his memory preserves a vivid impression of his child- 
 
246 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 hood days. Though without the simplest rudiments 
 of an English education, he is an intelligent and 
 thoughtful man, and enjoys the confidence and respect 
 of his neighbors, white and red, to an enviable degree. 
 
 Thomas Jemison, or " Buffalo Tom " as he is famili- 
 arly called, is another grandson of the White Woman, 
 though of different parentage, residing on the Catta- 
 raugus Reservation. His father was the captive's ill- 
 starred son Thomas, his mother is believed to have 
 been one of the numerous progeny of that desperate 
 outlaw, " Indian Allen." She inherited, however, 
 none of her father's evil traits, but was a remarkably 
 industrious and exemplary woman. Deserted with 
 her infant children, by a profligate and faithless hus- 
 band, she reared her little family by her unaided 
 exertions, and inculcated in their young minds the 
 principles of virtue, morality and thrift. More than 
 this she could not do, for in those primitive days the 
 missionaries had rarely penetrated to the banks of 
 the Genesee, and save a dim and wondering memory 
 of some of the strange words which the saintly Kirk- 
 land had spoken to them on his brief visit to the 
 Senecas, the light of the Gospel had not dawned upon 
 this hapless people. 
 
 Thomas was born sometime between Christmas and 
 New Year,— 1794, 1795, — at or near the Indian vil- 
 lage of Squakie Hill, opposite the site of the present 
 village of Mount Morris. He remembers the old peo- 
 ple saying that he was two years old when the great 
 
THOMAS JEMISON ("BUFFALO TOM.") 
 
DBH-HE-Wi-MI8. 247 
 
 council was held at Geneseo, or Big Tree, in 1797. 
 He distinctly recalls the announcement, home by 
 fleet-footed runners to the scattered Indian villages, 
 that Little Beard, the barbarous and bloody war-chief 
 was dead, and recollects seeing the excited Indians 
 firing ofi" volleys in the direction of the great eclipse of 
 the sun which followed that event, and which was 
 attributed by the superstitious natives to the malign 
 agency of Little Beard, who, it was hoped, would take 
 alarm at the firing and desist from his fell purpose. 
 
 Thomas proved an affectionate and dutiful son, and, 
 in strange contrast with the sloth and haughty con- 
 tempt of labor which early characterise the young 
 warrior, he delighted to aid his mother in her unremit- 
 ting toil and rude husbandry. 
 
 Though physically powerful and constitutionally 
 brave, he had no ambition to achieve distinction as a 
 warrior, and he early lost all relish for the games and 
 pagan dances in which ordinarily the soul of the 
 young Seneca revelled. 
 
 In 1828, the last of the Senecas turned their backs 
 upon their beautiful valley and sought the more 
 western reserves of their people. Thomas in the 
 meantime had married, and was the owner of a com- 
 fortable dwelling house, teams of horses and herds of 
 kine, and broad acres, which he had rendered exceed- 
 ingly fruitful by his toil and skill* These he was 
 
 *Mr. Jemison's dwelling-house is still standing in a good 
 state of preservation near Mt. Morris, and is cherished as an 
 honored landmark. 
 
248 LIFE OF MAR Y JEMISON. 
 
 forced to abandon, for the chiefs sitting in solemn con- 
 clave with the hungry palefaces had ceded all away. 
 He came to the Buffalo Creek Reservation in the 
 year 1828, and built a large and commodious house, 
 which is still standing on the Buffalo and Aurora 
 Plank Road, about three miles from the present City 
 Hall in Buffalo. The tide of emigration, which had 
 then commenced to flow westward, rolled by the 
 house of Thomas, it being situated on the most fre- 
 quented highway leading from the postal town of 
 Buffalo in the direction of Ohio. Thomas' large, 
 capacious house, with its comfortable surroundings, 
 was a vision of beauty to the way-worn pilgrims 
 passing by, and on whom it beamed a smile of wel- 
 come. In short, the rites of hospitality were practised 
 by Mr. Jemison to such an extent as to threaten him 
 with financial ruin. He was at length prevailed upon 
 to take a moderate compensation for the food and 
 shelter which his heart had so long prompted him to 
 bestow as a gratuity. Thenceforth, in addition to being 
 a successful farmer, he became a publican as well, and 
 thrived apace in this double capacity. 
 
 When the Indians, by means of arts which history 
 has already stamped as infamous, were betrayed into 
 ceding away the Buffalo Creek Reservation, Thomas 
 migrated with his people to the banks of the Catta- 
 raugus, where he has ever since resided, and where 
 that rare good fortune, born of integrity and industry, 
 has ever since attended him. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 249 
 
 It is not known how many descendants of the White 
 Woman are now living, but they are sufficiently nu- 
 merous to form a distinct clan of themselves. The 
 name Jemison is at once the most common and the 
 most honorable patronymic among the modern Sene- 
 cas, and of this numerous family the oldest, and by 
 tacit consent the chief, is Thomas Jemison, or Buffalo 
 Tom. When it is remembered that he was born in a 
 bark wigwam and reared amid pagan darkness, at a 
 time when his nation, wasted and broken by a deso- 
 lating war, was fast falling into decay ; that it was 
 his fate to live in that transition period in the history 
 of the Iroquois which witnessed the exchange of the 
 old barbaric virtues for the deadly vices which afflict 
 civilized communities, his career must assuredly be 
 regarded as an exceedingly creditable if not remarka- 
 ble one. Jemison was wise enough to seize upon the 
 prizes which civilization proffered, and to firmly resist 
 the allurements of its vices. He never drank, never 
 gambled, and was never under the dominion of any 
 degrading habit. His reputation for truth and in- 
 tegrity was never assailed, and his example of patient 
 but enlightened industry, and fore-handed thrift, has 
 been of incalculable benefit to his people. In fact, it 
 would seem that the virtues which adorned the char- 
 acter of the grandmother, after lying dormant for one 
 generation, had blossomed into rarer beauty in the 
 next. 
 
 Mr. Jemison resides about half a mile distant 
 
250 LIFE OF MAKY JEMISON. 
 
 from the Cattaraugus Mission House, in a two- 
 story frame dwelling, which differs little from the 
 ordinary abode ot well-to-do farmers in the New 
 England or Middle States. The house stands a few 
 rods back from the highway, and the intervening 
 space is filled with shrubbery, and protected from 
 the street by a neat picket fence. The house is flanked 
 on one side by a building constructed of hewn logs, 
 with a roof which, in the fashion of the old class of 
 Indian dwellings, projects four or five feet from the 
 main front wall, so as to perform the office of a porch. 
 The former proprietor of this ancient building was a 
 white captive known as Hank Johnson, who with his 
 Delaware wife inhabited it many years, and is re- 
 nowned in local traditions for his valor as a warrior 
 and his many chivalrous virtues. To the right of this 
 venerable edifice, which is now used as a granary, is 
 a neat carriage-house with open wings for the shelter 
 of teams and wagons. In the rear of the house is 
 an enormous shed, where, sawed and split and neatly 
 piled, is a twelve-months' supply of fuel ; and beyond, 
 surrounded by well-fenced fields, and an extensive 
 orchard, are barns which overflow with plenty.* 
 
 It is the home of thrift and competence, and wears 
 a marvellously snug and contented look, — no weather- 
 worn clapboards ; no doors or windows or gates be- 
 reft of hinges and creaking out a dismal protest against 
 
 ♦Besides other varieties of choice fruit, Mr. Jemison's or- 
 chard embraces more than three hundred bearing apple-trees. 
 
DBH-HE-WA-MIS. 251 
 
 neglect ; no plows, or other implements, unhoused 
 and rusting ; no gaping fences to tempt four-footed 
 marauders ; no gaunt, unruly kine, or lean, unkempt 
 horses, — everything speaks of a vigilant, provident 
 and prosperous farmer. 
 
 The interior of Mr. Jemison's house does not belie 
 the promise of its exterior. A stranger invoking its 
 hospitality, and ignorant of the race to which its oc- 
 cupants belong, will naturally stare with wonder, as, 
 in obedience to his call, a modest and neatly dressed 
 Indian maiden opens the door and invites him to 
 enter. He will be shown into a handsomely furnished 
 parlor with carpets, and chairs, sofa and centre table, 
 and whose walls are adorned with prints framed in 
 gilt and walnut. When invited to partake of their 
 fare he will be ushered into a spacious dining-room, 
 in the centre of which is a table spread with snowy 
 damask and groaning under a profusion of well-cooked 
 and substantial viands. Everything is scrupulously 
 clean and an air of Quaker-like tidiness pervades the 
 apartment. A large family of handsome Indian men 
 and youths and maidens — ^for Buffalo Tom is a true 
 patriarch — sit down with him at this hospitable board, 
 presided over by the master himself, a tall, vigorous 
 old man, with shrewd yet kindly eyes peering at you 
 beneath shaggy eyebrows whose raven hue contrasts 
 strangely with the silvery whiteness of his ample 
 locks. 
 
 An Indian girl stands behind her mistress, and 
 
252 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON". 
 
 serves the table with a quiet facility and uncon- 
 scious grace that are beyond praise. 
 
 Should our imaginary guest sleep under this friendly 
 roof he will find a well-furnished chamber and a lux- 
 urious couch inviting to repose. 
 
 Should he engage the diiferent members of this in- 
 teresting family in conversation, he will discover true 
 feminine refinement and delicacy of thought and feel- 
 ing shining through the maidenly reserve of the fe- 
 males ; he will mentally note that the young men can 
 converse in English as intelligently as the majority of 
 white youths who have had the advantage of training 
 in the grammar schools, and he will be quick to dis- 
 cover, lurking through the imperfect English of Buf- 
 falo Tom, an honest candor, a quickness of apprehen- 
 sion, a robust good sense, and, moreover, a keenness of 
 wit which ever and anon flashes through and lightens 
 the conversation. 
 
 Mrs. Jemison is a full-blooded Seneca, and is a 
 granddaughter of a once famous chieftian, known to 
 the whites by the unromantic name of Sharp Shins, 
 who flourished at the period of the revolutionary 
 war. She rarely attempts to speak in the English 
 tongue, and out of regard to this good mother the 
 Seneca is the language of her household. 
 
 It is gratifying to see so much happiness, and such a 
 degree of material prosperity attained by one who, 
 many years ago, was born a wild man in a rude hut 
 on the banks of the Genesee. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-IILS. 253 
 
 Considering the appalling diflSculties which ham- 
 pered the young barbarian in competing with white 
 men, heirs of a thousand years of progress, we cannot 
 but marvel at hLs triumph, nor refuse to pay our hom- 
 age to a character so innately pure and sweet, and yet 
 so strong. 
 
 Mr. Jemison, although a reverent man, does not 
 believe that the Christian religion, or its hand- 
 maid, education, is the sole panacea for the ills 
 which afflict his people. With so many glaring 
 examples around him of educated and Christian- 
 ized Indians relapsing into profligacy and barbar- 
 ism, he can see no safety for the young, no sure 
 guarantee of a life of comparative innocency and 
 happiness, save in habits of dogged industry. To 
 such a degree is his mind dominated by this idea, 
 that he loses no opportunity of enforcing his favorite 
 apothegm that industry is the mother of morality and 
 happiness. Xo man could be less tolerant of idleness 
 and improvidence than he. 
 
 " Handsome Lake," the great modern prophet of 
 the Iroquois, to whose preaching Jemison listened in 
 his youth, was the Indian Mahomet who sought to 
 reconcile the precepts of holy living which Christ 
 taught with the old Indian superstition of a separate 
 creation and a distinct ultimate destiny. Jemison's 
 religion is the gospel of labob, of which, at the sacri- 
 fice of much of his popularity among the slothful red 
 men, he has been the great apostle for more than half 
 a century. 
 
254 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THK LAST HOURS OP THE CAPTIVE, AS RELATED BY 
 MRS. ASHER WRIGHT, MISSIONARY. 
 
 Mary Jemison desires to see the Missionaries — Interview with 
 Mrs. Wright — A mother's dying injunction asserts its influ- 
 ence — The Captive's anguish at forgetting her mother's 
 prayer — Dawn upon a troubled soul — Personal appearance 
 of Mary Jemison — Her character. 
 
 Soon after I came to the Seneca Mission on the 
 Buffalo Creek Reservation, in 1833, I wa,s informed 
 that Mary Jemison had removed from her home on the 
 Genesee Reservation and was living near the Mission 
 station. As I had often heard of her history, I felt a 
 desire to see her, and was planning to pay her a visit, 
 when our interpreter called one day and told us he 
 had recently seen her and that she was anxious to see 
 some of the missionaries. I had been told that she 
 had never been interested in any efforts made to give 
 her religious instruction, and that in fact she was as 
 strong a pagan as any of the Indians, and was strongly 
 prejudiced against the Christian religion. I went to 
 see her the next day, in company with a young girl 
 who could interpret for me if necessary. I found her 
 in a poor hut, where she lived with her daughter. 
 There was a low bunk in one corner of the room, on 
 
MRS. ASHER WRIGHT. 
 
 In that instructive and entertaining book entitled " Our Life Among the 
 Iroquois Indians," by Harriet S. Caswell, may be found an account 
 of the efforts and sacrifices made by this noble woman and her 
 devoted husband for the elevation of the Indians on the Buffalo 
 and Cattaraugus reservations. 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 255 
 
 which she lay. It was made by laying a few boards 
 on some logs. A little straw was on the boards, over 
 which a blanket was spread. She was curled up on 
 the bed, her head drawn forward, sound asleep, and 
 as she lay, did not look much larger than a child 
 ten years old. My interpreter told her daughter what 
 had brought us to her house. She said her mother 
 did want to see us very much, and she was glad we 
 had come. She then went to the bunk and tried to 
 awaken her mother, but she slept so soundly, I feared 
 she would not succeed. After calling her repeatedly, 
 she shook her with considerable force and partly raised 
 her up in her bed, and told her some strangers wished 
 to see her. After she was roused so as to recognize 
 us, I went forward and shook hands with her, and told 
 her who I was and why I had come. As soon as she 
 understood the object of my visit, she said, with much 
 emotion : " I am glad to see you. A few nights ago 
 I was lying on my bed here, and I could not sleep. I 
 was thinking over my past life and all that had be- 
 fallen me : how I had been taken away from my 
 home, and how all my relations had been killed, and 
 of my poor mother and her last words to me." As 
 she went on, her emotion increased, and sobs and 
 tears almost made her voice inaudible. "It was the 
 second night after we were taken by the Indians. We 
 were in the woods. We were very tired and faint with 
 hunger. My little brothers and sisters were asleep 
 on the ground. My mother drew me to her side, and, 
 
256 LIFE OF MAKY JEMISOK. 
 
 putting her arm around me, she said : ' My child, you 
 are old enough to understand what a dreadful calamity 
 has come upon us. We maybe separated to-night, 
 and God only knows whether we shall ever see each 
 other again. Perhaps we may be killed and you may 
 be spared. I want you to remember what we have 
 taught you, and, above all, never forget the prayer 
 which you have always repeated with your little 
 brothers and sisters. I want you to say it every day 
 as long as you live. I want you to promise me you 
 will not forget.' I promised my mother that I would 
 do what she said, and then an Indian came to us and 
 led me away into the woods. My rhother called after 
 me and said : ' Be a good girl, Mary, and God will 
 take care of you.' I lay down on the ground and 
 cried myself to sleep. Those were the last words my 
 mother ever spoke to me, and I never saw her face 
 again. I never forgot what she said, and the promise 
 I made. For a good many years I remembered the 
 prayer, and no matter where I was, or how tired I was, 
 I always repeated it every night. But as my cares 
 increased, and I had to spend so much time working 
 hard to take care of my children and family, at last I 
 forgot some of the words, and was not sure that I said 
 any of it right, and gradually I left it off, and at last 
 I forgot it all, and the other night I began to think 
 about it, and I thought I had done very wrong to 
 break my promise to my mother, and now I do not 
 know how to pray." I think her idea was that there 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 257 
 
 was only that one prayer which would be acceptable 
 to God, and as she had forgotten that, there was no 
 hope that she could pray aright. " The more I thought 
 about it, the worse I felt, and I began to cry aloud, 
 and 1 said a great many times, ' Oh ! God, have mercy 
 on me.' My daughter told me to stop crying and go 
 to sleep, but I could not, because I felt so badly. I 
 think my daughter thought I was crazy. She did not 
 know what I felt bad about. The next day I sent 
 word to the missionaries that T wanted to see them, 
 for I thought they could tell me what I ought to say 
 when I pray, for I don't know what I ought to say, 
 since I have forgotten the prayer my mother taught 
 me." While she talked, the tears streamed down her 
 wrinkled cheeks, as she sat on the side of her low 
 bed, almost bent double. I told her she could not 
 have said anything more appropriate than " God, be 
 merciful to me." I told her of the infinite love of 
 God to us, and that He always hears the cry of those 
 who look to Him in trouble — that He knew all her past 
 life, and that He pitied her and would surely hear her 
 prayer. I then repeated the Lord's prayer, in Eng- 
 lish. She listened, with an expression both solemn 
 and tender, till near the close, when suddenly it was 
 evident a chord had been touched which vibrated 
 into the far distant past, and awakened memories both 
 sweet and painful. She immediately became almost 
 convulsed with weeping, and it was some time before 
 she could speak. At length she said : " That is the 
 
258 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 prayer my mother taught me and which I have forgot- 
 ten so many years." When she had regained her com- 
 posure, I read some passages of Scripture to her and 
 tried to explain the gospel plan of salvation, and com- 
 mending her to the care of Him who never breaks the 
 bruised reed, I bade her good bye, little thinking it 
 would be my last interview with this interesting 
 woman. 
 
 I thought it a remarkable instance — the permanent 
 influence of a mother's teaching. Full three-quarters 
 of a century had passed since she made the promise to 
 her mother, which it was not strange she had not kept, 
 the memory of which was the means of rousing her 
 to enquire as to how she could approach God and 
 find peace. For, doubtless, this was what her poor, 
 long benighted mind craved : as does that of every 
 other human being, in this fallen world. From what 
 we learned of her subsequent state of mind, from her 
 daughter and others, there is good reason to believe 
 that she died in the cheering faith of the gospel, and 
 not in the darkness of paganism, by which she had 
 been for so many years surrounded. 
 
 Mary Jemison must have been small in stature ; she 
 had a very white skin, yellow or golden hair and blue 
 eyes. Her face was somewhat bronzed by long ex- 
 posure ; but I noticed that at the back of her neck her 
 hair was a bright color and curly, and her skin very 
 white. Her hands and feet were small, her features 
 were regular and pleasing in expression. 
 
DEH-HE-TVA-MIS. 259 
 
 Prom all that I hare learned of her from those who 
 were for years contemporary with her, she possessed 
 great fortitude and self-control ; was cautious and 
 prudent in all her conduct ; had a kind, tender heart ; 
 was hospitable and generous and faithful in all her 
 duties as a wife and mother. She must hare possessed 
 an excellent constitution, as she endured unexampled 
 hardships and yet lived to the advanced age of ninety- 
 three. 
 
 My visit evidently excited and wearied her, and 
 she seemed quite exhausted and toward the last quite 
 sleepy ; which warned me that I ought to bring it to 
 a close. 
 
260 . LIFK OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Additional particulars relating to Mary Jemison's parentage— Site of 
 old homestead in Adams County, Pa.— William Buck's grave— De- 
 scription of " White Woman's " personal appearance — Dr. Mun- 
 son's and Henry O'Reilly's interviews with her. 
 
 In 1815, the editor of the Gettysburg Compiler pub- 
 lished an article in his paper descriptive of the troubles 
 the early settlers of Adams County, Pa., experienced 
 with the Indians. The following extract from this 
 newspaper article is of interest in connection with the 
 life of Mary Jemison. 
 
 "About a year ago we paid a visit to Buchanan 
 Valley, in the South Mountain, this county, and 
 called upon, among others, Robert Bleakney and wife, 
 an aged and intelligent couple, whose knowledge of 
 local history is extensive and reliable. From them 
 we learned — as they have the facts from tradition 
 through generations of the family residing on the same 
 farm, corroborated by records in an old family Bible — 
 that about 1155, the Indians, still quite numerous on 
 the other side of the mountain, became troublesome 
 and threatened incursions among the whites. The 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 261 
 
 few settlers in what is now Buchanan Valley became 
 alarmed at the unfriendly attitude assumed by the 
 redskins, and several families removed from the moun- 
 tain, among them the Bleakneys, who went to ' Little 
 Conowago,' and remained there a year or two. A 
 family by the name of Kilkennon, living where Samuel 
 McKenrick now does, had a goodly number of stout 
 boys, all well armed, and they thought they would 
 risk staying if the Indians should come. But, soon 
 after, the aspect of affairs became so alarming that they 
 left, and intended to take the Jemisons, who occupied 
 the tract recently sold by Joseph I. Livers to Francis 
 Cole, with them, and went in that direction. But, 
 hearing much firing about Jemison's, they started 
 down the creek to a blockhouse erected by the whites 
 for protection, somewhere near where Samuel Hart- 
 man now resides, back of Ardentsville. Of the Jemi- 
 sons, the father and mother, with a daughter, were 
 carried off by the Indians ; William Buck, who 
 worked there, was shot and killed ; and two boys, 
 both small, crept into a hollow log and escaped. 
 The daughter was seen a number of years after by 
 missionaries. She had married an Indian chief, but 
 could give no account of her parents, as they fell 
 behind in the march from the settlement and were 
 probably killed by their captors." 
 
262 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 Reverend William K. Zieber, in a series of articles 
 relating to the early history of Adams County, which 
 he contributed to the Gettysburg Compiler in 1819, 
 wrote as follows respecting the ancestry and early 
 life of the subject of this narrative : 
 
 " The first settlements in the southwestern portion 
 of the territory now embraced in Adams County 
 were made by Scotch-Irish. About the year 1135, a 
 number of families established themselves near the 
 sources of Marsh Creek. Others soon followed, among 
 whom, in the year 1^42 or lf43, were Thomas Jemi- 
 son and his wife, Jane Erwin, the parents of the 
 ' White Woman.' 
 
 " Thomas Jemison and wife were of honorable and 
 wealthy Scotch-Irish parentage. Leaving some port 
 of Ireland in the ship William and Mary, they reached 
 in due time the city of Philadelphia. When they 
 left the evergreen isle they had but three children, 
 two sons and a daughter. During the voyage another 
 daughter was born to them, whom they named Mary, 
 whose birth upon the stormy sea foreshadowed the 
 rough and sorrowful experiences she was subse- 
 quently called to endure. 
 
 " Fond of rural life, having been bred to agricultural 
 pursuits, Thomas Jemison soon left Philadelphia for 
 what were then the frontiers of Pennsylvania, and 
 
DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 263 
 
 settled upon an excellent tract of land lying on Marsh 
 Creek. Being of industrious habits, he soon cleared a 
 large farm and reaped the fruit of his labors. Tor a 
 period of ten or eleven years, during which time two 
 or more sons were added to his family, this hardy pio- 
 neer led a busy and contented life in his home along 
 the foot of South Mountain. 
 
 "In the autumn of the year 1754, Thomas Jemison 
 moved either to another part of his farm, or to another 
 neighborhood, a short distance from his former abode, 
 into what is now known as Buchanan Yalley. A 
 good house and a log barn were among the improve- 
 ments he found on the new farm. Among his neigh- 
 bors were James Bleakney, who survived until the 
 spring of 1821, dying in the 98th year of his age. 
 James Bleakney was the grandfather of Mrs. Robert 
 Bleakney, visited by the editor of the Compiler, and 
 subsequently by the writer. It was from this venera- 
 ble ancestor that Mrs. Bleakney heard of the misfor- 
 tunes of the Jemison family, and learned where their 
 farm was located. 
 
 " For about twenty years from the first settlements 
 made on and along Marsh Creek, and in the secluded 
 valley enclosed in the heart of the South Mountains, 
 the sturdy settlers were allowed to sow and reap in 
 peace. But a storm was brewing, destined to burst 
 
264 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 
 
 upon them, and for awhile to drive them from their 
 happy homes." 
 
 After giving an account of the capture of the Jemi- 
 son family by the Indians, Mr. Zieber writes thus re- 
 specting the burial-place of Mr. Buck : 
 
 "William Buck, the murdered man, was buried by 
 the neighbors not far from the spot where they found 
 his body. The burial was a hurried one, for they had 
 other pressing work on hand. Last autumn, whilst 
 on a visit to Buchanan Valley in company with the 
 editor of the Compiler, the grave of this victim of In- 
 dian atrocity was pointed out to us. Two maple trees 
 standing at the edge of a shallow ravine mark his 
 resting-place. A large pile of stones, gathered in the 
 adjoining field, and bordering the grave, serve as a 
 rude and unpolished monument. The house and barn 
 occupied and owned by the unfortunate Jemison fam- 
 ily have both succumbed to the ravages of time, and 
 no vestige remains to tell where they once stood. A 
 few gnarled and decaying apple trees, so old that no ■ 
 one now living there can tell when they were planted, 
 testify that once near by there stood a habitation. 
 But that solitary grave beside the maple trees, with 
 its cairn-like monument and its tragic history, is not 
 forgotten." 
 
 It is a matter of regret that, no pencil sketch or 
 
DEH-HE-Wl-Mia 265 
 
 other picture from life was ever taken of Mary Jemi- 
 son. The fact that nothing of the kind exists gives 
 greater interest to every description of her personal 
 appearance or characteristics by those who have seen 
 her or visited her in her home. "William B. Munson, 
 M.D., of Independence, Ohio, in reply to an inquiry 
 made by Mr. Letch worth for such information as 
 would be useful in preparing a statue of Mary Jemi- 
 son, wrote, October 12, IS 76, as foUows : 
 
 '• According to the picture which I have in my 
 mind of her, she had the shape, form, and figure of an 
 active, lively little old woman, seventy-five or eighty 
 years of age, about four and a half feet in height, ex- 
 hibiting the remains of a fair complexion and regular 
 features that had been in youth extremely beautiful. 
 The cheek bones were not prominent, nor was the 
 chin, and the nose was not large ; but, considering 
 her age, all these features were quite symmetrical. 
 The head was of medium size, covered with gray hair 
 smoothed backward ; the neck was not long, but in 
 due proportion to the size of her head and body ; 
 the shoulders were rounded and stooping forward or 
 bent, a position which might have been acquired, or 
 have been brought about by the manner of bearing 
 burdens customary with Indian women, and from age 
 and the effects of hardships encountered throughout 
 
266 LIFE OF MAEY JEJIISON. 
 
 her eventful life. The eyesight had become dim, but 
 the features had not become -wrinkled as much as 
 might have been expected from the many troubles 
 and sorrows endured by her. 
 
 "The 'White TVoman' was quite intelligent, socia- 
 ble, and communicative, but grave and serious after 
 the manner of the Indians with whom her life from 
 early childhood had been spent. With familiar ac- 
 quaintances she would join in lively conversation and 
 brisk repartee. Mentioning to her upon one occasion 
 that I had read the history of her life, and that it had 
 interested me very much, ' Ah, yes ! ' she replied, 
 ' but I did not tell them who ^vrote it down half of 
 what it was.' It was thought at that time that she 
 withheld information which the Indians feared might 
 stir up against them the prejudices of the white 
 people. 
 
 " In making visits to the ' White Woman ' we were 
 in the habit of taking along some trifling presents for 
 her. At one time we carried along a bottle of best 
 Madeira wine. She manifested her grateful acknowl- 
 edgment of the gift, and, taking the bottle of wine, 
 went and hid it carefully away from the Indians. 
 
 " She was residing in her own blockhouse, superin- 
 tending preparations of provisions for a journey to 
 Buffalo, about the last time I saw her, shortly before 
 
DEH-HE-WA-illS. 267 
 
 the final departure of the Indians from the Genesee 
 country. She was assisted in the work by her daugh- 
 ter Polly and a number of young papooses. They had 
 a large brass kettle swung over an open fire of wood 
 upon the hearth. The kettle was filled with boiling 
 fluid. Sitting, standing, and squatting around a large 
 Tvooden trough filled with hominy made into dough, 
 the mother, daughter, and grandchildren were busily 
 engaged in making up balls of dough from the kneed- 
 ing trough and incorporating therein plenty of dried 
 apples and pumpkin which lay beside the trough. 
 As the balls were made up they were tossed into the 
 boiling kettle, and when deemed thoroughly cooked, 
 were taken out and laid upon boards or pieces of 
 bark. I remember the food had a savory odor and 
 appeared to be very good ; but we could not vouch 
 for the palatableness of the delectable dumplings, as 
 they offered none of them to us. In viewing the prep- 
 aration of this food, however, we saw most beauti- 
 fully and satisfactorily solved the problem which so 
 long muddled and belabored the brains of King 
 George the Third, namely, the mystery of how the 
 apple got into the dumpling. 
 
 " The last time I remember seeing her was late in 
 the fall season. She was habited in woollen petticoat 
 and short gown that came mid-leg below the knees, 
 
268 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 
 
 buckskin leggings and moccasins, and, over all, a 
 white, common woollen Indian blanket. It was just 
 at night, and she was going in search of a stray In- 
 dian pony, and was led by a young Indian, one of her 
 grandchildren. She went spatting thrt)ugh the rivu- 
 let of ice-cold water just north of the house, and 
 although her sight was so dim she could scarcely see, 
 to all appearance, to discern in twilight twice the 
 length of a horse, on she went, in spite of every ob- 
 stacle, with the same energy and determined purpose 
 that had characterized her whole life." 
 
 Mr. Henry O'Reilly, the historian, in writing to 
 Mr. Letchworth in 1883, referred to De-he-wa-mis in 
 the following sympathetic strain : 
 
 " My acquaintance with Mary Jemison and my 
 visits to her cabin while I was her neighbor in the 
 upper Genesee Yalley are among the pleasantest 
 recollections of my life. The fact that I came in boy- 
 hood from that part of Ireland where her parents 
 dwelt made her conversations with me particularly an- 
 imated and enthusiastic. My last visit to her was 
 made when she was about ninety years old, and her 
 remarks to me then furnished to my mind a striking 
 illustration of the proneness of aged persons to recur 
 to the phraseology of their youth. Heaven rest her 
 gentle spirit ! " 
 
APPENDIX 
 
APPENDIX, 
 
 I. 
 
 REMOVAL OF THE REMAINS OF MARY 
 
 JEMISOX, "THE WHITE WOMAN 
 
 OF THE GENESEE." 
 
 Mary Jemison was buried in the Mission burial 
 ground near Buffalo, on the southerly side of the 
 yard, the grave looking toward the east. The bury- 
 ing ground is much smaller than formerly, the old and 
 decayed boundary fence having been contracted to 
 within a few feet of where she was buried. Red 
 Jacket was interred near her grave. His remains 
 were removed to the Cattaraugus Reservation, and 
 subsequently to Forest Lawn Cemetery, Buffalo. A 
 large black walnut tree grew over the grave of the 
 " White Woman," its great branches extending pro- 
 tectingly over it and the spot where Red Jacket was 
 first buried. The grave was situated in the line of 
 one of the new streets of Buffalo, as appears by one 
 of the maps outlining projected enterprises, and the 
 onward march of improvement would doubtless in 
 time have brought the tramp of thousands of restless 
 feet to the spot. 
 
272 APPENDIX. 
 
 The soil is that of a dry yellow loam. The grave 
 had doubtless been dug by the Indians, and was 
 not as deep as those usually made by white people. 
 The process of exhuming was directed by her grand- 
 son, "Dr. Shongo," and his instructions were scrupu- 
 lously observed. An excavation both wide and long 
 was made, in order to facilitate removal. Time, it was 
 found, had obliterated any elevation or depression of 
 earth over the grave, if it ever had been so marked. 
 A small fragment of the head-stone alone told of its 
 sacred precincts. About two and a half feet from the 
 surface of the ground fragments of decayed wood were 
 visible. They proved, upon close examination, to be 
 part of the original cofBn, which was almost entirely 
 disintegrated by decay. Parts of the cofBn could only 
 be recognized by a discoloration of the earth, where 
 the dark wood had mingled with the soil and become 
 a part of it. Its outline, however, was distinctly de- 
 fined. Every piece of the decayed coffin and the 
 minutest particle of its contents, including the earth 
 itself, were reverently and carefully lifted up, com- 
 mencing at the foot of the grave, and placed in the 
 same relative position in a new coffin ; the undertaker 
 using for this purpose a broad shovel. The new coffin, 
 of solid black walnut, elegantly mounted in silver, 
 rested close beside the grave. 
 
 The bones which came under observation in process 
 of disinterment were clean and dry, and in some 
 cases almost disintegrated, as is usually the case when 
 
.TAMES SHONGO, 
 
APPENDIX. 273 
 
 subjected to the action of soil of this nature. The 
 cranium and jaw were perfect. The shape of the 
 chin betokened firmness, and the intellectual and 
 moral faculties, as indicated by the location and size 
 of the various organs of the brain, were largely de- 
 veloped. The hair upon the top of the head was 
 gray, thick, and short. At the back base of the skull, 
 there were a few soft, silken, yellow curls lying under- 
 neath the gray. The bright, soft curls hidden away 
 amid the trophies of age were noted by Mrs. Asher 
 Wright, the wife of the reverend missionary of this 
 name, in one of her visits to the "White Woman" 
 before her death. As Mrs. Wright saw her lying 
 upon her bed of skins and blankets in her log hut, 
 these curls stole out from their hiding-place, as her 
 withered fingers crept under her head, revealing at 
 the same time a bit of fair white skin, delicate as an 
 infant's, which shone in luminous contrast with her 
 deeply wrinkled sunburnt features, that had weath- 
 ered three-fourths of a century of sunshine and storm 
 and wigwam smoke. A pair of buckskin moccasins 
 contained a few delicate bones, aU that was left of the 
 small, well-shaped feet that had served her in long and 
 toilsome marches through forest wildernesses. The 
 leather of the moccasins was perfect, but the thongs 
 with which they had been sewed and the cotton thread 
 used in embroidering the bead work upon them had 
 entirely decayed so that the parts were not held to- 
 gether. It was evident that she had been buried in 
 
274 APPENDIX. 
 
 the costume in which she had been named by the 
 children of the forest when a lonely little girl on the 
 banks of the Ohio, an hundred years agone. The 
 broadcloth of which her leggins and skirt had been 
 made was unmistakably distinguishable, although 
 but in very small fragments. It was of fine texture. 
 The bottom of the leggins had been hemmed with a 
 narrow silken ribbon, originally either pink or scarlet, 
 upon which small white beads were embroidered. 
 This silken binding was almost as perfect as when 
 made. A somewhat similar silken border or hem em- 
 bellished the broadcloth skirt. This border was like- 
 wise in a good state of preservation. Near the center 
 of the grave was found a peculiarly shaped porcelain 
 dish, which probably contained when placed there, 
 articles of food. In the dish was a wooden spoon 
 greatly decayed. The spoon was between four and five 
 inches long, having a wide, shallow bowl. The dish 
 was of the size of a small dinner plate, and was shaped 
 like an ordinary tea saucer. It was white and orna- 
 mented at equal intervals with pale blue sprigs or 
 blossoms. These were doubtless provided by her 
 Indian relatives to supply her with food while jour- 
 neying to the Indian's happy hunting grounds. 
 
 The entire contents of the grave having been duly 
 gathered and placed in a new coffin, the lid was 
 secured, and it was conveyed by the undertaker, as 
 directed by " Dr. Shongo," to the Erie Railway depot, 
 whence it was conveyed to Castile Station, Wyoming 
 
>AKCOPHAGr« KNCLO^rNG THE REMAESS OP THE WHITE WOSLlN. 
 
APPENDIX. 275 
 
 County, N. Y., and the day following re-interred with 
 appropriate ceremonies near the old Council House of 
 the Senecas on the Genesee River, near the Upper 
 Falls of the Genesee. At the time of the Indian 
 Council held within this historic building on the 1st 
 of October, 1812, Thomas Jemison, a venerable grand- 
 son of the deceased, planted a black walnut tree at 
 the spot which is now the foot of her grave. The nut 
 from which this tree grew came from the tree which 
 sheltered the old Jemison grave on the Indian Mission 
 ground. The black walnut coffin is enclosed in a stone 
 sarcophagus, which is closely sealed with cement. At 
 the close of the ceremonies which took place at the 
 re-interment on the Genesee, the coffin was opened, 
 and " Dr. Shongo " took therefrom a lock of hair from 
 the head of his deceased relative. With this exception 
 all that was once mortal of the " White Woman of the 
 Genesee," and all that her grave contained in the old 
 Mission burying ground, are held in the stone sar- 
 cophagus buried near the old Council House. 
 
276 APPENDIX. 
 
 II. 
 
 MART JEMISON. 
 
 THE REMAINS OF THE "WHITE WOMAN OF THE GENESEE " 
 REMOVED TO HER OLD HOME. 
 
 [Buffalo Courier, Monday Morning, March 10, 1874.] 
 
 The remains of Mary Jamison, or Deh-he-wa-mis, 
 commonly known as the "White Woman of the Gren- 
 esee," were taken up last week from the old Mission 
 burying ground at Red Jacket, near Buffalo, where 
 they had been buried about forty years ago, and con- 
 veyed to the neighborhood of her home and life-long 
 associations on the Genesee River. The stone that 
 had marked her grave had been nearly destroyed by 
 remorseless relic hunters, by whom it had been broken 
 and carried away piece by piece until but a small por- 
 tion of it remained above the ground. It was feared 
 by those interested in preserving whatever pertained 
 to the history of this remarkable character that in a 
 few years all trace of her resting place would be ob- 
 literated. 
 
 The removal of the remains took place under the 
 direction of James Shongo, a favorite grandson of 
 the deceased, son of her daughter Polly by marriage 
 
APPENDIX. 277 
 
 with John Shongo. James .was born under the 
 " White Woman's " roof, and was a member of her 
 family during his boyhood, and was present at her 
 death and funeral. He also assisted in the removal of 
 his grandmother to Buffalo, at the time she left the 
 Gardeau Reservation, a few years prior to her death. 
 
 The spot selected for the final resting-place of her 
 remains is a high eminence on the left bank of the 
 Genesee River, overlooking the Upper and Middle 
 Falls. The point is one commanding the finest views 
 of the picturesque scenery of Portage — including both 
 the Upper and Middle Falls and railroad bridge. 
 Upon this eminence and quite near to her present 
 grave is the ancient Seneca Council-house, removed a 
 year or two since from Caneadea, within which it is 
 believed Mary Jemison rested for the first time after 
 her long and fatiguing journey of six hundred miles 
 from Ohio, during which she carried her infant upon her 
 back. The re-interment took place on Saturday after- 
 noon in the presence of a large concourse of people, 
 some of whom were old citizens from the Reservation 
 which she once owned, who had known her during her 
 life and held her memory in esteem. The remains 
 were borne from Castile village to the old Council- 
 house, within which appropriate exercises were con- 
 ducted by Rev. W. D. McKinley of Castile. They 
 consisted of the reading of selections from Scripture, 
 a brief but very interesting reminiscence of the event- 
 ful life of the subject, and prayer. From the Council- 
 
278 APPENDIX. 
 
 house the remains were taken to the grave, a few feet 
 northerly of the building. The following gentlemen 
 officiated as pall-bearers : 
 
 George Wheeler, Benjamim Burlingham, 
 
 D. W. Bishop, John Peter Kelly, 
 
 Giles Davis, Isaac McNair. 
 
 Mary Jemison's former residence on the Gardeau 
 Flats is but a few miles from the spot where her ashes 
 now repose, and the murmur of the Genesee may be 
 heard as one stands by her grave as she heard it 
 during nearly seventy years that she lived upon its 
 banks. 
 
APPENDIX. 279 
 
 III. 
 
 DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 
 
 THE WHITE WOMAN OF THE GENESEE. REMOVAL OF HER 
 
 REMAINS, ETC. 
 
 [From the Buffalo Commercial Advertiser, March 10, 1874,] 
 
 In our issue of Saturday last we made reference to 
 the " Desecration of an Old G rave." As the circum- 
 stances were reported to us by a prominent member 
 of the police force, whose information it seems was 
 based on mischievous reports, an air of mystery was 
 thrown about a common-place transaction, that left 
 the parties participating in it in an undeservedly rep- 
 rehensible position. The facts, as we have since gath- 
 ered them, are substantially these : 
 
 The grave referred to was that of Mary Jemison, 
 whose Indian name was Deh-he-wa-mis. She was com- 
 monly called by the early settlers of Western New 
 York " The White Woman of the Genesee." It seems 
 that for several years past James Shongo, a favorite 
 grandson of the "White Woman," had contemplated 
 removing the remains of his grandmother from their 
 late precarious resting-place to some spot more 
 remote from the encroachments of modern improve- 
 ments. In this laudable desire his wishes have 
 
280 APPENDIX. 
 
 been seconded by others of her kindred. " Dr. Shon- 
 go" is a son of Polly and George Shongo, and grand- 
 son of a noted Indian who was principal chief at 
 Canadea in the old Indian wars. Polly Shongo was 
 the youngest child of the " White Woman." She lived 
 with her mother from the time of her marriage until 
 her mother's death, and afterwards retained the old 
 homestead until the Indians removed to the Cattarau- 
 gus Reservation. "Dr. Shongo" was born under the 
 " White Woman's " roof upon the Gardeau Reserva- 
 tion, in the present town of Castile, and but two or 
 three miles from the lower falls at Portage. He spent 
 his boyhood about her person, and she is said to have 
 been very fond of him, always desiring to have him 
 near her. He assisted in removing her to Buffalo at 
 the time she reluctantly left her home on the Genesee 
 River, in 1831, only two years before her death. He 
 was by her side in her last moments and was a sincere 
 mourner at her funeral. He is now fifty-three years 
 of age, and it is but natural that filial affection should 
 desire what others interested in perpetuating history 
 would like to see accomplished — namely, the preser- 
 vation of her grave. 
 
 The stone which has marked it for forty years past 
 had been ruthlessly destroyed by relic-seekers. Only 
 a small portion of it was visible above the ground. 
 It was liable at any time to be cast aside, and when 
 this should happen all traces of one whose life was 
 filled with extraordinary events would have been lost, 
 
APPENDIX. 281 
 
 except as it existed in memory and upon the pages of 
 history. The process of exhuming took place on 
 Friday last by Mr. Kraft, undertaker, under the direc- 
 tion of " Dr. Shongo," whose wishes were particularly 
 observed throughout. The remains, which were but 
 slightly distinguishable, were conveyed to the Erie 
 R. R. depot the same day. They were taken to Castile 
 Station in charge of "Dr. Shongo," and the same 
 afternoon and during Saturday afternoon from Castile 
 Station to the Genesee River, followed by a numerous 
 cortege in carriages, comprising the best citizens of 
 Castile and from " The Reservation," a number of 
 whom knew the "White Woman" when alive, and 
 held her memory in respect. 
 
 The following persons acted as pall-bearers : 
 George Wheelek, Benjamin Burlingham, 
 
 D. W. Bishop, John Peter Kelly, 
 
 Giles Davis, Isaac McNair. 
 
 The remains were taken within the old log Council- 
 house of the Senecas, now occupying a high eminence 
 overlooking the Upper and Middle Falls at Portage. 
 Within this ancient relic brief exercises were conducted 
 by the Rev. W. D. McKinley of Castile, consisting of 
 the reading of selections from Scripture, and a short 
 reminiscence of the eventful life of Mary Jemison ; the 
 whole closing with prayer. The remains were depos- 
 ited a few feet northerly from the Council-house, beside 
 a black walnut tree, planted a few years since by the 
 
282 APPENDIX. 
 
 hand ot Thomas Jemison, son of the "White 
 Woman's " oldest son Thomas, who is now a feeble 
 old man. A similar tree opposite the westerly en- 
 trance to the building was planted by John Jacket, a 
 descendant of Red Jacket, and another at the easterly 
 door was planted by Mrs. Osborne, a descendant of 
 Capt. Brant, in which task she was assisted by one of 
 Buffalo's most honored citizens, whom at this moment 
 we reverently mourn.* 
 
 "We are informed that it is the intention of the pro- 
 prietor of the land about her grave to erect thereon a 
 suitable monument or other fitting memorial. 
 
 So far from deserving any censure, the conduct of 
 " Dr. Shongo," grandson of this remarkable woman, in 
 thus endeavoring to perpetuate the earthly abiding- 
 place of his relative, is highly praiseworthy. Others 
 who may have aided him in carrying out this un- 
 selfish purpose are certainly entitled to great com- 
 mendation. 
 
 * Honorable Millard Fillmore. 
 
APPENDIX. 283 
 
 IV. 
 
 MARY JBMISON'S GRAVE BY THE 
 
 GENESEE. 
 
 Soon .after the removal of the remains of Mary Jem- 
 ison to the Indian Council House grounds, a marble 
 monument, the design for which was approved by her 
 grandson, James Shongo, and some other of her de- 
 scendants, was erected at the grave by the proprietor 
 of the Council House grounds. One of its sides bears 
 the inscription upon the original tombstone. (See 
 page 239.) 
 
 Another side is inscribed as follows : 
 
 TO THE 
 MEMOBT OP 
 
 MAEY JEMISON, 
 
 Whose home during more than seventy years of a life of 
 
 strange vicissitude was among the Seneoas upon 
 
 the banks of this river ; and whose history, 
 
 inseparably connected with that of this valley, has 
 
 caused her to be known as 
 
 "the white woman of the GENESEE." 
 
 On another side is the following inscription : 
 
284 APPENDIX. 
 
 The remains of 
 
 "teds white woman" 
 
 were removed from the 
 
 Buffalo Creek Eeservation 
 
 and reinterred at this place with 
 
 appropriate ceremonies 
 on the 7th day of March, 1874. 
 
 Over the grave, and conforming to its shape, is a 
 curbing of stone slabs, the centre space being filled 
 with earth to form a flower-bed. The stones are un- 
 hewn and but a few inches thick. They were, how- 
 ever, rude headstones, once used to mark the graves 
 in the Indian burial-ground near the house of Mary 
 Jemison's daughter Nancy on the Gardeau Reserva- 
 tion. After Mary Jemison left the reservation the 
 burial-ground was ruthlessly desecrated. A barn was 
 built in the midst of the graves, and, in excavat- 
 ing for the foundation, the bones of many of the 
 silent occupants were recklessly scattered over the 
 surface of the ground, presenting at one time, accord- 
 ing to an eye witness, a shocking sight. The grave- 
 yard was plowed over and the headstones of the graves 
 were used in constructing a culvert in the highway 
 near by. With the consent of the highway commis- 
 sioner these were removed by the editor of this edition 
 some years since and placed about Mary Jemison's 
 grave in the manner just mentioned. In the bed thus 
 formed wild flowers were planted by Shongo. 
 
APPENDIX. 285 
 
 V. 
 
 DEATH OP LIEUTENANT BOYD. 
 
 The horrible death of Lieutenant Thomas Boyd as 
 described by Mary Jemison in tlie foregoing pages, 
 and the cruel torture to which the Indians subjected 
 their captives, are so revolting as to shock every feel- 
 ing of humanity ; but it should be borne in mind that 
 such inhuman practices are not special characteristics 
 of the Indian race. Their parallel may not infre- 
 quently be found in the annals of the white race. The 
 people of Spain, at the time they took possession of the 
 island of San Domingo, claimed to be refined, chivalrous, 
 and believers in Christianity. After subjugating the in- 
 habitants of the island, they reduced them to a condition 
 of abject servitude. Under an organized system, the 
 Indians were apportioned to Spanish gentlemen by the 
 government, to work on their plantations and in the gold 
 mines during eight months of the year. Cruel tasks 
 were exacted of these laborers and insufficient food 
 supplied them. When the condition of these once 
 proud and independent Indians became intolerable 
 they revolted against it. In the province of Higuey 
 they were overcome by the Spaniards and great num- 
 
286 APPENDIX. 
 
 bers were indiscriminately slaughtered. Such as 
 escaped to the mountains were hunted like wild 
 beasts. It is recorded in Irving's Life of Columbus 
 that — 
 
 " Sometimes they would hunt down a straggling 
 Indian and compel him, by torments, to betray the 
 hiding-place of his companions, binding him and 
 driving him before them as a guide. Wherever they 
 discovered one of these places of refuge filled with the 
 aged and infirm, with feeble women and helpless 
 children, they massacred them without mercy. They 
 wished to inspire terror throughout the land, and to 
 frighten the whole tribe into submission. They cut 
 off the hands of those whom they took roving at large, 
 and sent them, as they said, to deliver them as letters 
 to their friends, demanding their surrender. 
 
 "The conquerors delighted in exercising strange 
 and ingenious cruelties. They mingled horrible levity 
 with their bloodthirstiness. They erected gibbets 
 long and low, so that the feet of the sufferers might 
 reach the ground, and their death be lingering. They 
 hanged thirteen together, in reverence of our blessed 
 Savior and the twelve apostles. While their victims 
 were suspended, and still living, they hacked them with 
 their swords to prove the strength of their arms and 
 the edge of their weapons. They wrapped them in 
 dry straw, and setting fire to it, terminated their ex- 
 istence by the fiercest agony. 
 
 " These are horrible details, yet a veil is drawn over 
 
APPKXDIX. 287 
 
 others still more detestable. They are related circum- 
 stantially br Las Casas, who was an eve witness. 
 He was Toung at the time, but records them in his 
 advanced years. ' All these things,' says the ven- 
 erable Bishop, ' and others revolting to human 
 nature, did my own eyes behold ; and now I almost 
 fear to .repeat them, scarce believing myself, or 
 whether I have not dreamt them." " 
 
 Even in our own day we read of two Seminole 
 Indians who, on suspicion of murder, without legal 
 examination or sanction by court or jury, were chained 
 to an oak tree by a mob of whites, surrounded with 
 combustible material, and burned to death. Their 
 skeletons were left hanging in the chains encircling 
 them, a ghastly spectacle to passing beholders. This 
 occurred at Paris, Texas, on the border-land of the 
 Indian Territory, January, 189S. 
 
 The torture of Lieutenant Boyd by the Iroquois 
 was inflicted while the Indians were highly exasper- 
 ated and filled with a spirit of revenge at the destruc- 
 tion of their houses, crops, and means of subsistence 
 by Sullivan's army ; while the whites of San Domingo, 
 inspired by the baser motive of avarice, committed in 
 cold blood the barbarities described. 
 
288 APPENDIX. 
 
 VI. 
 INDIAN GEOGRAPHICAL NAMES* 
 
 IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK. 
 
 NUN-DA'-WA-O-NO'-GA, 
 
 OR THE TERRITORY OF THE SENEGAS. 
 SENECA DIALECT. 
 
 CHAUTAUQUE COUNTY. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. INDIAN NAME. SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Dunkirk, Ga-na'-da-wa-o, Running through the Hem- 
 
 locks. 
 Cattaraugus Creek, \ Ga-dS'-ges-ga-o, ) p.^^^ 3^^^^^^ 
 
 ^ ( Ga-hun'-da,t > 
 
 Silver Creek, Ga-a-nun-di'-ta, G. A Mountain leveled down. 
 
 Chautauque Creek, Ga'-no-wun-go, G. In the Rapids. 
 Conevifango River, Ga'-no-wun-go, G. In the Rapids. [locks. 
 
 Canadawa Creek, Ga-na'-da-wa-o, G. Running through the Hem- 
 Cassadaga Creek, Gus-di'-go, G. Under the Rocks. 
 
 Cassadaga Lake, -j Gus-dS'-do, ) ^^^^^ ^5,^ j^^^i^^^ 
 
 ( Te-car-ne-o-di ,-|- ) 
 Chautauque Lake, Cha-da-queh, T. Place where one was lost. 
 Cattaraugus, Ga'-dS-ges'-ga-o, Fetid Banks. 
 
 CATTARAUGUS COUNTY. 
 
 Alleghany River, O-hee'-yo, G. The Beautiful River. 
 
 Great Valley Creek^O-da'-squa-dos-sa, G. Around the Stone, [one. 
 Little Valley Creek, O-da'-squS-wa-teh', G. Small Stone beside a large 
 
 * From The League of the Iroquois, p. 465, 
 
 t Ga-'hun'-da- and Te-caT-ne-o-di ' are common nouns, signifying, the former, 
 " a river," or " creek," and the latter, " a lake." They are always affixed by th^ 
 Iroquois, in speaking, to the nai^e itself, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 289 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 Oil Creek, 
 Ischuna Creek, 
 Oswaya Creek, 
 Burton Creek, 
 Lime Lake, 
 Ellicottville, 
 Burton, 
 Olean, 
 
 Hasket Creek, 
 Alleghany Village, 
 Alleghany Village, 
 Oil Spring Village, 
 Bend Village, 
 Trail of the Eries, 
 
 Two Sisters Creek, 
 Caugwaga Creek, 
 Smokes Creek, 
 Cazenovia Creek, 
 Buffalo Creek, 
 Cayuga Creek, 
 EUicott Creek, 
 Grand Island, 
 
 INDIAN NAME. 
 
 Te-car'-nohs, G. 
 
 He'-soh, G. 
 
 0-so'-&-yeh, G. 
 
 Je'-ga-sa-nek, G. 
 
 Te-car'-no-wun-do, 
 
 De-as'-hen-da-qua, 
 
 Je'-ga-sa-neh, 
 
 He'-soh, 
 
 O-so'-S-went-ha, G. 
 
 De-o'na-ga-no, 
 
 Jo'-ne-a-dih, 
 
 Te-car'-nohs, 
 
 Da'-u-de-hok-to, 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Dropping Oil. 
 
 Floating Nettles. 
 
 Pine Forest. 
 
 Name of an Indian. 
 
 T. Lime Lake. 
 
 Place for holding Courts. 
 
 Name of an Indian. 
 
 Same as Ischuna Creek. 
 
 By the Pines. 
 
 Cold Spring. 
 
 Beyond the Great Bend. 
 
 Dropping Oil. 
 
 At the Bend. 
 
 Ga-qua'-ga-o-no, Wa-a'-gwen-ne-yuh. 
 
 ERIE COUNTY. 
 
 Te-car'-na-ga-ge, G. Black Waters. 
 Ga'-gwa-ga, G. Creek of the Cat Nation. 
 
 Da-de-o'-da-na-suk-to, G. Bend in the Shore. 
 Ga-a'-nun-dSh-ta, G. A Mountain flattened down. 
 Do'-sho-weh, G. Splitting the Fork. 
 Ga-da'-geh, G. Through the Oak Openings. 
 
 Ga-dS'-ya-deh, G. Level Heavens. 
 GS-weh'-no-geh, On the Island. 
 
 Eighteen-Mile Creek, Ta-nun'-no-ga-o, G. Full of Hickory Bark. 
 
 Murder Creek, 
 Lake Erie, 
 Buffalo, 
 Black Rock, 
 Williamsville, 
 Clarence Hollow, 
 Akron, 
 
 De'-on-gote, G. 
 Do'-sho-weh, T. 
 Do'-sho-weh, 
 De-o'-steh-ga-a, 
 
 Place of Hearing. 
 Same as Buffalo Creek. 
 Same as Buffalo Creek. 
 A Rocky Shore. 
 
 Ga-sko'-sa-di-ne-o, Many Falls. 
 
 Ta-nun'-no-ga-o, Full of Hickory Bark. 
 
 De'-on-gote, Place of Hearing. (Neuter 
 
 gender.) 
 Lancaster, Ga-squen'-da-geh, Place of the Lizard. 
 
 Red Jacket Village, Te-kise'-da-ne-yout, Place of the Bell. 
 Falls Village, Ga-sko'-sa-da, The Falls. 
 
 Cattaraugus Village,Ga-da'-ges-ga-o, Same as Cattaraugus Creek. 
 Carrying Place Vil. Gwa'-u-gweh, Place of taking our Boats, or 
 
 Portage. 
 
290 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 GENESEE AND WYOMING COUNTIES. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 Tonawanda Creek, 
 Aliens Creek, 
 Black Creek, 
 
 Stafford, 
 
 Batavia, 
 
 OakHeld, 
 
 Alabama, 
 
 Caryville, 
 
 Pine Hill, 
 
 Attica, 
 
 Alexander, 
 
 Wyoming, 
 
 Pembroke, 
 
 Le Roy, 
 
 Darien, 
 
 Silver Lake, 
 
 Silver Lake Outlets, 
 
 Caneadea Creek, 
 
 Warsaw, 
 
 Tonawanda Village 
 
 Gardow, 
 
 INDIAN NAME, 
 
 Ta'-nS-wun-da, G. 
 O'-at-ka, G. 
 Ja'-go-o-geh, G. 
 
 Ya'-go-o-geh, 
 Deo-on'-go-wa, 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Swift Water. 
 
 The Opening. 
 
 Place of Hearing. (This is 
 
 feminine. ) 
 Place of Hearing. 
 The Great Hearing Place. 
 
 Te-car'-dS-na-duk, Place of Many Trenches. 
 
 Ga'-swa-dak, 
 Gau'-dak, 
 Te-ca'-so-S-a, 
 Gweh'-ti-a-ne-te- 
 car'-nun-do-deh, 
 Da-o'-sa-no-geh, 
 
 By the Cedar Swamp. 
 By the Plains. 
 Pine lying up. 
 
 The Red Village. 
 
 Place without a Name. 
 Te-car'-ese-ta-ne-ont, Place with a Sign-post. 
 O-a'-geh, On the Road, 
 
 Te-car'-no-wun-na-da'-ne-o, Many Rapids. 
 
 O-so'-ont-geh, Place of Turkeys. 
 
 Ga-na'-yat, T. Signification lost. 
 
 Ga-na'-yat, G. Signification lost. 
 
 Ga-o'-ya-de-o, G. Same as Caneadea. 
 Chi'-nose-heh-geh, On the Side of the Valley. 
 ,Ta'-na-wun-da, Swift Water. 
 Ga-dS'-o, Bank in Front. 
 
 ALLEGHANY COUNTY. 
 
 Genesee River, Gen-nis'-he-yo, G. The Beautiful Valley. 
 Wiskoy Creek, O-wa-is'-ki, G. Under the Banks. 
 
 Black Creek, Ja-go'-yo-geh, G. Hearing Place. 
 
 Angelica, Ga-ne-o'-wSh-ga-yat, Head of the Stream. 
 
 Caneadea, Ga-o'-ya-de-o, Where the Heavens 
 
 against the Earth. 
 Caneadea Creek, Ga-o'-ya-de-o, G. Where the Heavens 
 
 upon the Earth. 
 Nunda, Nun-di'-o, Hilly. 
 
 Wiskoy, O-wa-is'-ki, Under the Banks. 
 
 0-wa-is-ki, O-wa-is'-ki, Under the Banks. 
 
 lean 
 
 rest 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 291 
 
 LIVINGSTON COUNTY. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. INDIAN NAME. 
 
 Caneseraga Creek, Ga-nus'-gS-go, G. 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Among the Milkweed. 
 Connesus Lake, Ga-ne-a'-sos, T. Place of Nanny-Berries. 
 Connesus Outlet, Ga-ne-a'-sos, G. Place of Nanny-Berries. 
 Hemlock Lake, O-neh'-da, T. The Hemlock. 
 
 Hemlock Outlet, O-neh'-da, G, The Hemlock. 
 
 Genesee, O-ha'-di, Trees burned. 
 
 Mount Morris, So-no'-jo-wau-ga, Big Kettle. (Residence of a 
 
 Seneca Chief.) 
 Dansville, Ga-nus'-gS-go, Among the Milkweed. 
 
 Livonia, De-o'-de-sote, The Spring, 
 
 Lima, SkS-hase'-gS-o, Once a Long Creek. 
 
 Avon, Ga-no'-wau-ges, Fetid Waters. 
 
 Caledonia, De-o'-na-ga-no, Cold Water. [ed. 
 
 Moscow, Ga-n^h'-da-on-tweh, Where Hemlock was spill- 
 
 Squawkie Hili, Da-yo'-it-gS-o, Where the River issues from 
 
 the Hills. [ed. 
 
 Site of Moscow, Ga-nSh'-da-on-tweh, Where Hemlock was spill- 
 Little Beard's Town, De-o-nun'-da-ga-a, Where the Hill is near. 
 Big Tree Village, Ga-un-do'-wa-na, A Big Tree. 
 Tuscarora Village, O-ha'-gi, 
 Ganowauges, Ga-no'-wau-ges, 
 
 Site of Dansville, Ga-nus'-gS-go, 
 Near Livonia, De-o'-de-sote, 
 
 Crowding the Bank. 
 Fetid Waters. 
 Among the Milkweed. 
 The Spring. 
 
 Site of Mount Morris, So-no'-jo-wau-ga, Big Kettle. 
 
 Irondequoit Bay, 
 Salmon Creek, 
 Sandy Creek, 
 Honeoye Creek, 
 Rochester, 
 Brockport, 
 
 Scottsville, 
 
 Honeoye Falls, 
 Ontario Trail, 
 Indian Village at 
 
 MONROE COUNTY. 
 Neo'-dS-6n-da-quat, A Bay. 
 
 Ga'-doke-na, G. 
 0-ngh'-cM-g«h, G. 
 Ha'-ne-a-yeh, G. 
 Ga'-sko-sa-go, 
 Gweh'-ta-a-ne-te- 
 car-nun-do'-teh, 
 O'-at-ka, 
 
 Place of Minnows. 
 Long ago. 
 Finger Lying. 
 At the Falls. 
 
 Red Village. 
 
 The Opening. (Same as Al- 
 len's Creek.) [obstruction. 
 Sko'-sa-is-to, Falls rebounding from an 
 
 Ne-a'-ga Wa-a-gwen-ne-yu, Ontario Footpath, 
 the Bend, Da-yo'-de-hok-to, A bended Creek. 
 
292 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ORLEANS AND NIAGARA COUNTIES. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 INDIAN NAME. 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Oak Orchard Creek, Da-ge-i'-no-ga-unt, G. Two Sticks coming to- 
 Johnson's Creek, A-jo'-yok-ta, G. Fishing Creek. [gether. 
 
 Eighteen-Mile Creek, Date-ge-a'-de-ha- 
 
 geh, G. Two Creeks near together. 
 
 Tuscarora Creek, 
 East Branch, 
 West Branch, 
 Albion, 
 Medina, 
 
 Middleport, 
 Lockport, 
 
 Royalton Center, 
 Lewiston, 
 Youngstown, 
 Golden Creek, 
 Niagara River, 
 Lake Ontario, 
 The word Ontario, 
 
 Niagara Falls, 
 Niagara Village, 
 
 Te-ka'-on-do-duk, 
 De-o'-do-sote, 
 
 Te-car'-na-ga-ge, G. Black Creek. 
 De-yo'-wuh-yeh, G. Among the Reeds. [ed. 
 
 De-o'-wun-dake-no, Place where Boats were burn- 
 Date-geh'-ho-seh, One Stream crossing another. 
 (Aqueduct on Canal.) 
 Place with a Sign-Post. 
 The Spring. (Referring to 
 the Cold Spring.) 
 O-ge-a'-wa-te-ka'-e, Place of the Butternut. 
 Ga'-a-no-geh, On the Mountains. [Neck. 
 
 Ne-ah'-ga, Supposed from O-ne'-ah, A 
 
 Hate-keh'-neet-ga-on-da, G. Signification lost. 
 Ne-ah'-ga, G. Same as Youngstown. 
 
 Ne-ah'-ga, T. Same as Youngstown. 
 
 Ska-no'-dS-ri-o, T. The " Beautiful Lake. " 
 
 (This is a Mohawk word, 
 and Ontario is a deriv- 
 ative.) 
 The Highest Falls. 
 The Highest Falls. 
 On the Mountains. 
 Taking Canoe out. (Carry- 
 ing place at the mouth of 
 Tonawanda Creek.) 
 
 WAYNE AND ONTARIO COUNTIES. 
 
 Mud Creek, Ga-nS-gweh, G. Same as Palmyra. 
 
 Flint Creek, Ah-ta'-gweh-da-ga, G. [ment. 
 
 Canandaigua, Ga'-nun-dS-gwa, A Place selected for a Settle- 
 
 Canandaigua Outlet, Ga'-nun-dS-gwa, G. A Place selected for a Set- 
 tlement, [ment. 
 Canandaigua Lake, Ga'-nun-dS-gwa, T. A Place selected for a Settle- 
 Hemlock Outlet, O-neh'-da, G. Hemlock. 
 
 Date-car'-sko-sase, 
 Date-car '-sko-sase, 
 
 Tuscarora Indian Vil. Ga'-a-no-geh, 
 Seneca Indian Vil. Ga-u'-gweh, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 293 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. INDIAN NAME. SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Honeoye Lake, Ha'-ne-a-yeh, T. Finger Lying, 
 
 Skaneatice Lake, Ska'-ne-a-dice, T. Long Lake. 
 
 Sodus Bay, Se-o-dose' (Seneca), Ah-slo-dose (Oneida). Sig- 
 
 nification lost. 
 
 Little Sodus Bay, Date-ke-a'-o-shote, Two Baby Frames. (From 
 
 Gi-ose'-hS, Baby Frame). 
 
 Palmyra, Ga'-nS-gweh, A Village suddenly sprung 
 
 up. 
 
 Geneva, Ga-nun'-da-sa-ga, New Settlement Village. 
 
 Seneca Lake, Ga-nun'-da-sa-ga, T. New Settlement Village. 
 
 West Bloomfield, Ga-nun'-da-ok, Village on the top of a Hill. 
 
 Victor, Ga-o'-sa-ga-o, In the Basswood Country. 
 
 Naples, Nun'-da-wa-o, Great Hill. 
 
 Near Geneva, Ga'-nun-da-sa-ga, New Settlement Village. 
 
 Canandaigua, Ga'-nun-dS-gwa, Place suddenly sprung up. 
 
 Victor, Ga-o'-sS-ga-o, In the Basswood Country. 
 
 Near Naples, Nun'-da-wa-o, Great Hill. 
 
 YATES, STEUBEN, AND CHEMUNG COUNTIES. 
 Crooked Lake, O-go'-ya-ga, T 
 
 Crooked Lake Outlet, O-go'-ya-ga, G. 
 
 Conhocton River, Ga-h4'-to, G. 
 
 Chemung River, 
 
 Canisteo River, 
 
 Bath, 
 
 Painted Post, 
 
 Elmira, 
 
 Promontory projecting into 
 the Lake. [the Lake. 
 
 Promontory projecting into 
 A Log in the Water. 
 
 Ga-hS'-to, G. A Log in the Water. 
 
 Te-car'-nase-te-o, G. Board on the Water. 
 
 Do-na'-ta-gwen-da, Opening in an Opening. 
 
 Te-car'-nase-to-o-ah, A Board Sign. 
 
 Skwe'-do-wa, Great Plain. 
 
 GWE-TJ'-GWEH-O-NO'-GA, 
 
 OR THE TERRITORY OF THE CAYUGAS. 
 PARTLY CAYUGA AND PARTLY SENECA. 
 
 Tioga Point, Ta-yo'-ga, At the Forks. 
 
 Ithaca, Ne-o-dak'-he-at, At the Head of the Lake. 
 
 Cayuga Lake, Gwe-u'-gweh, T. Lake at the Mucky Land. 
 
 Aurora, De-a-wen'-dote, Constant Dawn. 
 
 Canoga Ga-no'-geh, Oil floating on the Water. 
 
294 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. INDIAN NAME. 
 
 Cayuga Bridge, 
 Montezuma, 
 Rowland's Island, 
 Waterloo, 
 Seneca River, 
 
 Clyde River, 
 
 Auburn, 
 
 Otter Lake, 
 
 Muskrat Creek, 
 
 Owasco Outlet, 
 
 Owasco Lake, 
 
 North Sterling Creek, Dats-ka'-he, G. 
 
 Sodus Bay Creek 
 
 Site of Canoga, Ga-no'-geh, 
 
 Site of Union Springs, Ge-wa'-ga, 
 
 Above Lockwoods 
 
 Cove, GS-ya'-ga-an'-ha, 
 
 Site of Ithaca, Ne-o'-dak-he'-at, 
 
 SICHIPICATIOH. 
 
 A Long Bridge. 
 
 Place of Salt. 
 
 Great Island. 
 
 Place of Whortleberries. 
 
 Flowing out. (Some doubt 
 
 about the signification.) 
 River at a Village suddenly 
 
 sprung up. 
 Floating Bridge. 
 A Great Way up. 
 A Great Way up. [ed. 
 
 Place where Men were kill- 
 Lake at the Floating Bridge. 
 Hard Talking. 
 Te-gS-hone'-sa-o'-ta, G. A Child in a Baby Frame. 
 Oil on the Water. 
 Promontory running out. 
 
 Inclined downward. 
 At the End of the Lake. 
 
 Was'-gwas, 
 Te-car'-jik-ha'-do, 
 Ga-weh'-no-wa-na, 
 Skoi'-yase, 
 Swa'-geh, G. 
 
 Ga-nS'-gweh, G. 
 
 Was'-co, 
 Squa-yen'-na, T. 
 Squa-yen'-na, G, 
 De-a-go'-ga-ya, G. 
 Dwas'-co, T. 
 
 O-NUN'-Dl-GA-O-NO'-GA, 
 
 OR THE TERRITORY OF THE ONONDAGAS. 
 
 ONONDAGA DIALECT. 
 
 Susquehanna River, Ga-wa-no-wa'-ni- 
 
 neh, G. Great Island River. 
 
 Ah-wa'-ga, Where the Valley widens. 
 
 Ah-wa'-ga, G. Where the Valley widens. 
 
 O-nan'-no-gi-is'-ka, Shagbark Hickory. 
 Te-wis'-ta-no-ont- 
 
 sa'-ne-a-ha. Place of the Silver Smith. 
 
 Ka'-na-ka'-ge, G. Black Water. 
 O-nan'-no-gi-is'-ka, G. Shagbark Hickory. 
 
 ONONDAGA COUNTY. 
 
 TuUy Lake, Te-ka'-ne-a-dS'-he, T. A Lake on a Hill. 
 
 Tully, Te-ka'-ne-a-dS'-he, A Lake on a Hill. 
 
 Owego, 
 Owego Creek, 
 Cortland, 
 Homer, 
 
 Owasco Inlet, 
 Tionghinoga River, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 295 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 INDIAN NAME. 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Apulia, 
 
 O-nun'-o-gese, 
 
 Long Hickory. 
 
 Skaneateles Lake, 
 
 Skan-e-a'-dice, T. 
 
 Long Lake. 
 
 Skaneateles, 
 
 Skan-e-a'-dice, 
 
 Long Lake. 
 
 Otisco Lake, 
 
 Ga-ah'-na, T. 
 
 Rising to the Surface, and 
 again sinking. Legend of 
 a drovifning man. 
 
 Otisco, 
 
 Ga-ah'-na, 
 
 do. 
 
 Otisco Outlet, 
 
 Ga-ah'-na, G. 
 
 do. 
 
 Lafayette, 
 
 Te-ka'-wis-to'-ta, 
 
 Tinned Dome. 
 
 Pompey Hill, 
 
 De-o'-wy-un'-do, 
 
 Wind Mill. 
 
 Pompey, 
 
 De-is'-wa-ga'-ha, 
 
 Place of Many Ribs. 
 
 Oil Creek, 
 
 De-o'-nake-ha'-e, 
 
 Oily Water. 
 
 Onondaga Creek, 
 
 O-nun-da'-ga, G. 
 
 On the Hills. 
 
 Onondaga West Hill, Te-ga-che'-qua- 
 
 
 
 ne-on'-ta. 
 
 A Hammer Hanging, [ley. 
 
 Onondaga Hollow, 
 
 , Te-o-ha'-ha-hen'-wha, Turnpike crossing the Val- 
 
 Marcellus, 
 
 Us-te'-ka, 
 
 Butternut Hickory. 
 
 Nine-Mile Creek, 
 
 Us-te'-ka, G. 
 
 Butternut Hickory. 
 
 Camillus, 
 
 O-ya'-han, 
 
 Apples split open. 
 
 Elbridge, 
 
 Ka-no-v/a-ya, 
 
 Skull lying on a shelf, [ter. 
 
 Jordan Creek, 
 
 Ha-nau'-to, G. 
 
 Small Hemlocklimbs on Wa- 
 
 Jordan, 
 
 Ha-nan'-to, 
 
 Small Hemlock limbs on 
 Water. [ter. 
 
 Cross Lake, 
 
 U-neen'-do, T. 
 
 Hemlock Tops lying on Wa- 
 
 Fort Brewerton, 
 
 Ga-do'-quat, 
 
 (Oneida Dialect.) Significa- 
 tion lost. 
 
 Oneida Outlet, 
 
 She-u'-ka, G. 
 
 Signification lost. 
 
 Liverpool, 
 
 Ga-na-wa'-ya, 
 
 A Great Swamp. 
 
 Liverpool Creek, 
 
 Tun-da-da'-qua, G. 
 
 Thrown out. 
 
 Onondaga Lake, 
 
 Ga-nun-ta'-ah, T. 
 
 Material for Council Fire. 
 
 Salina, 
 
 Te-ga-jik-ha'-do, 
 
 Place of Salt. 
 
 Syracuse, 
 
 Na-ta'-dunk, 
 
 Pine Tree broken, with Top 
 hanging down. 
 
 Jamesville Creek. 
 
 Ga-sun'-to, G. 
 
 Bark in the Water. 
 
 Janiesville, 
 
 Ga-sun'-to, 
 
 Bark in the Water. [rises. 
 
 Limestone Creek, 
 
 De-a-o'-no-he, G. 
 
 Where the Creek suddenly 
 
 Manlius, 
 
 De-a-o'-no-he, 
 
 Where the Creek suddenly 
 rises. 
 
 Fayetteville, 
 
 Ga-che'-a-yo, 
 
 Lobster. 
 
296 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 INDIAN NAME. 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 De-o'-sa-da-ya'-ah, Deep Basin Spring. 
 Swe-no'-ga, A Hollow. 
 
 De-o'-nake-hus'-siuk, Never Clean. 
 Ka-na-ta-go'-wa, Signification lost. 
 
 Hemlock Knot in the Water. 
 
 A Little Man. 
 
 Going partly round a Hill. 
 
 Deep Spring, 
 South Onondaga, 
 Christian Hollow, 
 Onondaga Castle, 
 Four Miles East of 
 
 Castle, Tu-e-a-das'-so, 
 
 Site of Onondaga 
 
 Hollow, Gis-twe-ah'-na, 
 
 Three Miles South of 
 
 Onondaga Castle, Nan-ta-sa'-sis, 
 
 OSWEGO AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES. 
 
 Oswego, Swa'-geh, Flowing out. 
 
 New Haven Creek, Ka-dis-ko'-na, G. Long Marsh. 
 
 Little Salmon Creek, Ga-nun-ta-sko'-na, G. Large Bark. 
 
 Grindstone Creek, He-ah-ha'-whe, G. Apples in Crotch of Tree. 
 
 Big Salmon Creek, Ga-hen-wa'-ga, G. A Creek. 
 
 Pulaski, Ga-hen-wa'-ga, A Creek. 
 
 Sandy Creek, Te-ka'-da-o-ga'-he, G. Sloping Banks. 
 
 Grand Island, De-a'-w6ne-da-ga- 
 
 han'-da, Signification lost. 
 
 Sacketts Harbor, Ga-hu'-a-go-je-twa- 
 
 da-a'-lote, Fort at Mouth of Great River. 
 
 O-NA'-YOTE-KA-O-NO'-GA, 
 
 OR ONEIDA TERRITORY. 
 
 ONEIDA DIALECT. 
 
 St. Lawrence River, Ga-na-wa'-ga, G. 
 Black Lake, Che'-gwa-ga, T. 
 
 Osvvegatchie River, O'-swa-gatch, G. 
 Ogdensburgh, O'-swa-gatch, 
 
 Black River, 
 Watertown, 
 Beaver River, 
 Deer Creek, 
 Moose River 
 
 Ka-hu-ah'-go, G. 
 Ka-hu-ah'-go, 
 Ne-ha-sS'-ne, G. 
 Ga-ne'-ga-to'-do, G. 
 Te-kS'-hun-di-an'- 
 do, G. 
 
 The Rapid River. 
 In the Hip. 
 Signification lost 
 Signification lost. 
 Great or Wide River. 
 Great or Wide River, [ber. 
 Crossing on a Stick of Tim- 
 Corn Pounder. 
 
 Clearing an Opening. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 297 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 Otter Creek, 
 Indian River, 
 
 INDIAN NAME. 
 
 Da-ween-net, G. 
 O-je'-quack, G. 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 The Otter. 
 Nut River. 
 
 ONEIDA COUNTY. 
 Mohawk River above 
 
 Herkimer, Da-ya'-hoo-vpa'-quat, G. Carrying Place. 
 
 Rome, Da-ya'-hoo-wa'-quat, Carrying Place. 
 
 Fish Creek, Ta-ga'-soke, G. Forked like a Spear. 
 
 Wood Creek, Ka-ne-go'-dick, G. Signification lost. 
 
 Oneida Lake, Ga-no'-a-lo-hale,T. A Head on a Pole. 
 
 Scribas Creek, Ga-sote'-na, G. High Grass. 
 
 Bay Creek, Te-gua'-no-ta-go'- 
 
 wa, G. Big Morass. 
 
 West Canada Creek, 
 
 and Mohawk River, Te-ah-6'-ge, G. At the Forks. 
 Trenton Village, Ose'-te-a'-daque, In the Bone. 
 Trenton Falls, Date-wa'-sunt-ha'-go, Great Falls. 
 
 Utica, Nun-da-da'-sis, Around the Hill. 
 
 Whitestown Creek, Che-gS-quat'-ka, G. Kidneys. 
 
 Whitestown, 
 Oriskany Creek, 
 Oriskany, 
 Paris Hill, 
 Clinton, 
 Sangerfield, 
 Vernon, 
 Vernon Centre, 
 Oneida Creek, 
 Verona, 
 
 Nine-Mile Creek, 
 Camden, 
 Oneida Depot, 
 New Hartford, 
 Oneida Castle, 
 Site of Camden, 
 On Fish Creek, 
 
 Che-gS-quat'-ka, 
 
 Ole'-hisk, G. 
 
 Ole'-hisk, 
 
 Ga-nun-do'-glee, 
 
 Ka-da'-wis'-dag, 
 
 Ska'-na-wis, 
 
 Ska'-na'-sunk, 
 
 Skun-an-do'-wa, 
 
 De-6se-la-ta'-gaat, 
 Che-ga-quat'-ka, 
 Ga-no-a-lo'-hale, 
 Ho-sta-yun'-twa, 
 Ta-ga'-soke, G. 
 
 Near Oneida Castle, Ga-na'-doque, 
 
 Kidneys. ^ 
 
 Netties.'^,':?'' 
 
 Nettles. 
 
 Hills shrunk together. 
 
 White Field. 
 
 A Long Swamp. 
 
 Place of the Fox. 
 
 Great Hemlock. 
 Ga-no-a-lo'-hale, G. Head on a Pole. 
 Te-o-na'-tale, Pine Forest. 
 
 Te-ya-nun'-soke,G. A Beech Tree standing up. 
 He-sta-yun'-twa, Meaning lost. 
 
 Where the Cars go fast. 
 
 Kidneys. 
 
 Head on a Pole. 
 
 Meaning lost. 
 
 Forked like a Spear. 
 
 Empty Village. 
 
 MADISON AND CHENANGO COUNTIES. 
 
 Canestota, 
 Lenox 
 
 Ka-ne-to'-ta, 
 Ska-wais'-la, 
 
 Pine Tree standing alone. 
 A Point made by Bushes. 
 
298 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 Caneseraga Creek, 
 
 Chittenango Creek, 
 Chittenango, 
 Cazeuovia Lake, 
 Cazenovia, 
 Hamilton, 
 
 Uiiadilla River, 
 
 Chenango River, 
 
 Sherburn, 
 
 Norwich, 
 
 Oxford, 
 
 Binghampton, 
 
 Stockbridge Indian 
 
 INDI.4N NAME. 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 Ka-na'-so-wa'-ga,G, Several Strings of Beads 
 
 with a String lying across. 
 Chu-de-naang', G. Where the Sun shines out. 
 Chu-de-naiing', Where the Sun shines out. 
 
 Ah-wa'-gee, T. Perch Lake. 
 
 Ah-wa'-gee, Perch Lake. 
 
 Da-ude'-no-sa-gwa- 
 
 nose. Round House. 
 
 De-u-na'-dil-lo, G. Place of Meeting. 
 O-che-chang, G. Bull Thistles. 
 Ga-na'-da-dele, Steep Hill. 
 Ga-na'-so-wa'-di, Signification lost. 
 So-de-ah'-lo-wa'-nake, Thick-necked Giant. 
 O-che-nang', Bull Thistles. 
 
 Vil, Ah-gote'-sa-ga-nage, Meaning lost. 
 
 GA-NE-A'-GA-O-NO'-GA, 
 
 OR MOHAWK TERRITORY. 
 MOHAWK DIALECT. 
 
 West Canada Creek, 
 Mohawk River, 
 Herkimer, 
 Little Falls, 
 Port Plain, 
 Canajoharie Creek, 
 Canajoharie 
 Johnstown, 
 Fonda, 
 Fort Hunter, 
 Schoharie Creek, 
 Schoharie, 
 East Canada Creek, 
 Otsquago Creek, 
 Amsterdam Creek, 
 Garoge Creek, 
 
 Te-uge'-ga, G. 
 Te-uge'-ga, G. 
 Te-uge'-ga, 
 Ta-la-que'-ga, 
 Twa-da-a-la-ha'-la 
 Ga-na-jo-hi'-e, G. 
 Ga-na-jo-hi'-e, 
 Ko-la-ne'-ka, 
 Ga-na-wa'-da, 
 Te-on-da-lo'-ga, 
 Sko-har'-le, G. 
 Sko-har'-le, 
 Te-car'-hu-har-lo' 
 O-squa'-go, G. 
 Ju-ta-la'-ga, G. 
 Ga-ro'-ga, G. 
 
 At the Forks. 
 At the Forks. 
 At the Forks. 
 Small Bushes. 
 Fort on a Hill. 
 Washing the Basin. 
 Washing the Basin. 
 Indian Superintendent. 
 On the Rapids. [gether. 
 
 Two Streams coming to- 
 Flood-wood. 
 Flood-wood, 
 da, G. Visible over the Creek. 
 Under the Bridge. 
 Signification lost. 
 Signification lost. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 299 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 Schenectady, 
 Albany, 
 Hudson River, 
 Cohoes Falls, 
 Lake Champlain, 
 
 Ticonderoga, 
 Saratoga, 
 Lake St. Francis, 
 Salmon River, 
 
 St. Regis River, 
 St. Regis, 
 Racket River. 
 
 INDIAN NAME. 
 
 O-no-a-la-gone-na, 
 Ska'-neh-ta'-de, 
 Ska'-neh-ta-de, G. 
 Ga'-ha-oose, 
 O-ne-a-da'-lote, T. 
 
 Je-hone-ta-lo'-ga, 
 S'har-la-to'-ga, 
 Ga-na-sa-da'-ga, T. 
 Gau-je'-ah-go-na'- 
 
 ne, G. 
 Ah-qua-sos'-ne, G. 
 Ali-qua-sos'-ne, 
 Ta-na-wa -deh, G. 
 
 SIGNIFICATION. 
 
 In the Head. 
 Beyond the Openings. 
 River beyond the Openings. 
 Shipwrecked Canoe. 
 Signification lost. (Oneida 
 
 dialect.) 
 Noisy. 
 
 Signification lost. 
 Side Hill. (Oneida dialect.) 
 
 Sturgeon River. " 
 Partridges drumming. 
 Partridges drumming. 
 Swift Water. 
 
 COUNTIES SOUTH OF THE MOHAWK. 
 
 Otsego Lake, Ote-sa'-ga, T. Signification lost. 
 
 Cooperstown, Ote-sa'-ga, Signification lost. 
 
 Delaware River, Ska-hun-do'-wa, G. In the Plains. 
 Cobus Hill, As-ca-le'-ge, Meaning lost. 
 
 New York, Ga-no'-no, Meaning lost. 
 
 Long Island, Ga'-wa-nase-geh, A Long Island. 
 
 dialect. ) 
 O-jik'-ha da-ge'-ga, Salt Water. 
 
 (Oneida 
 
 Atlantic Ocean, 
 
 Upper Mohawk Cas- 
 tle, Ga-ne'-ga-ha'-ga, Possessor of the Flint 
 
 Middle Mohawk 
 Castle, Ga-na-jo-hi'-e, Washing the Basin. 
 
 Lower Mohawk [gether. 
 
 Castle. Te-ah-ton-ta-lo'-ga, Two Streams coming to- 
 
 CANADA. 
 
 Quebec, 
 Montreal, 
 Kingston, 
 Welland River, 
 Grand River, 
 Burlington Bay. 
 
 Ke-a-done-da-a'-ga, Two Forts Contiguous 
 
 Do-te-a'-ga, 
 Ga-dai-o'-que, 
 Jo-no '-dok, G. 
 Swa'-geh, G, 
 De-o-na'-sa-de'-o, 
 
 Almost broken. 
 
 Fort in the Water. 
 
 Signification lost. 
 
 Flowing out. 
 
 Where the Sand forms a Bar. 
 
300 
 
 APPEKDIX. 
 
 ENGLISH NAME. 
 
 Queenstown, 
 
 Hamilton, 
 Toronto, 
 
 INDIAN NAME, 
 
 Do-che'-ha-o', 
 
 De-o-na'-sa-de'-o, 
 De'-on-do, 
 
 Brock's Monument, Gus-tS'-ote, 
 Chippeway, Jo-no'-dak, 
 
 SIGNIFICATION, 
 
 Where the Mountain dies in 
 
 the River. 
 See above. 
 Log floating upon the Water. 
 
 Signification lost. 
 
 PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 Erie, Gus-ha'-vpa-ga, On the Body. 
 
 Cornplanter's Village, De-o-no'-sa-da-ga, Burned Houses. 
 
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