 Chapter 15 of A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemisin In 1816, Micah Brooks, Esquire, of Bloomfield, Ontario County, was recommended to me, as it was said, by a Mr. Engels, to be a man of candor, honesty, and integrity who would by no means cheat me out of assent. Mr. Brooks soon after came to my house and informed me that he was disposed to assist me in regard to my land by procuring a legislative act that would invest me with full power to dispose of it for my own benefit and give as ample a title as could be given by any citizen of the state. He observed that as it was then situated, it was of but little value because it was not in my power to dispose of it, let my necessities be ever so great. He then proposed to take the agency of the business upon himself and to get the title of one half of my reservation vested in me personally upon the condition that as a reward for his services I would give him the other half. I sent for my son John, who on being consulted, objected to my going into any bargain with Mr. Brooks without the advice and consent of Mr. Thomas Clute, who then lived on my land and near me. Mr. Clute was accordingly called on to whom Mr. Brooks repeated his former statement and added that he would get an act passed in the Congress of the United States that would invest me with all the rights and immunities of a citizen so far as it respected my property. Mr. Clute, suspecting that some plan was in operation that would deprive me of my possessions, advised me to have nothing to say on the subject to Mr. Brooks till I had seen Esquire Clute of Squalkey Hill. Soon after this Thomas Clute saw Esquire Clute, who informed him that the petition for my naturalization would be presented to the legislature of this state instead of being sent to Congress and that the object would succeed to his and my satisfaction. Mr. Clute then observed to his brother Esquire Clute that as the sale of Indian lands which had been reserved belonged exclusively to the United States, an act of the legislature of New York could have no effect in securing to me a title to my reservation or in depriving me of my property. They finally agreed that I should sign a petition to Congress, praying for my naturalization and for the confirmation of the title of my land to me, my heirs, etc. Mr. Brooks came with the petition. I signed it and it was witnessed by Thomas Clute and two others, and then returned to Mr. Brooks, who presented it to the legislature of this state at its session in the winter of 1816-17. On the 19th of April, 1817, an act was passed for my naturalization and ratifying and confirming the title of my land, agreeable to the tenor of the petition, which act Mr. Brooks presented to me on the first day of May following. Thomas Clute, having examined the law, told me that it would probably answer, though it was not according to the agreement made by Mr. Brooks and Esquire Clute and himself for me. I then executed to Micah Brooks and Jealous Clute a deed of all my land lying east of the picket line on the Gardo Reservation containing about 7,000 acres. It is proper in this place to observe in relation to Mr. Thomas Clute that my son John a few months before his death advised me to take him for my guardian, as I had become old and incapable of managing my property, and to compensate him for his trouble by giving him a lot of land on the west side of my Reservation where he should choose it. I accordingly took my son's advice, and Mr. Clute has ever since been faithful and honest in all his advice and dealings with and for myself and family. In the month of August 1817 Mr. Brooks and Esquire Clute again came to me with a request that I would give them a lease of the land which I had already deeded to them, together with the other part of my Reservation, accepting and reserving to myself only about 4,000 acres. At this time I informed Thomas Clute of what John had advised and recommended me to do, and that I had consulted my daughters on the subject who had approved of the measure. He readily agreed to assist me, whereupon I told him he was entitled to a lot of land and might select as John had mentioned. He accordingly at that time took such a piece as he chose and the same has ever since been reserved for him in all the land contracts which I have made. On the 24th of August 1817 I leased to Micah Brooks and Jealous Clute the whole of my original Reservation except 4,000 acres and Thomas Clute's lot, finding their title still incomplete on account of the United States government and Seneca Chiefs not having sanctioned my acts. They solicited me to renew the contract and have the conveyance made to them in such a manner as that they should thereby be constituted sole proprietors of the soil. In the winter of 1822-3 I agreed with them that if they would get the Chiefs of our nation and a United States Commissioner of Indian Lands to meet in council at Moscow, Livingston County, New York, and there concur in my agreement that I would sell to them all my right and title to the Gardo Reservation, with the exception of a tract for my own benefit two miles long and one mile wide, lying on the river where I should choose it and also reserving Thomas Clute's lot. This arrangement was agreed upon and the council assembled at the place appointed on the 3rd or 4th day of September 1823. That council consisted of Major Carroll who had been appointed by the President to dispose of my lands, Judge Howell and N. Gorham of Canandaigua, who acted in concert with Major Carroll, Jasper Parrish, Indian agent, Horatio Jones interpreter and a great number of Chiefs. The bargain was assented to unanimously and a deed given to H. B. Gibson, Micah Brooks and jealous Clute of the whole Gardo tract, accepting the last mentioned reservations which was signed by myself and upwards of twenty Chiefs. The land which I now own is bounded as follows, beginning at the center of the Great Slide, and running west one mile, thence north two miles, thence east about one mile to Genesee River, thence south on the west bank of Genesee River to the place of beginning. Footnote, the Great Slide of the Bank of Genesee River is a curiosity worthy of the attention of the traveler. In the month of May, 1817, a portion of land thickly covered with timber, situated at the upper end of the Gardo Flats, on the west side of the river, all of a sudden gave way and with a tremendous crash, slid into the bed of the river, which it so completely filled, that the stream formed a new passage on the east side of it, where it continues to run without overflowing the slide. 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 upon it and growing. End Footnote, In consideration of the above sale, the purchasers have bound themselves their heirs, assigns, etc., to pay to me, my heirs, or successors, three hundred dollars a year, forever. For the land which I have reserved shall be sold, the income of it is to be equally divided amongst the members of the Seneca Nation, without any reference to tribes or families. CHAPTER XVI OF A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF Mrs. Mary Jemison. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lynn Carroll. A narrative of the life of Mrs. Mary Jemison by James E. Sieber. CHAPTER XVI. When I review my life, the privations that I have suffered, 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 affected, and that my life has been prolonged and my health and reason spared, it seems a miracle that I am unable to account for and is a tragic 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, and the pleasures that we have left or lost, the anticipation of misery, the appearance of wretchedness, the anxiety for freedom, the hope of release, the devising of means of escaping, and the vigilance with which we watch our keepers that constitute the nauseous dregs of the bitter cup of slavery. I am sensible, however, that no one can pass from a state of freedom to that of slavery, and in the last situation rest perfectly contented, but as everyone knows that great exertions 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 person. 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 affected 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 was not known, and when it was first introduced, it was in small quantities and used only by the Indians, so that it was a long time before the Indian women begun to even taste it. After the French War, for a number of years it was the practice of the Indians of our tribe to send to Niagara 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 collected, 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 themselves, they commenced drinking, and continued their frolic till 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 till they got sober, and then were unbound. When the fumes of the spirits had left the company, 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 gear, and that at the time the Indians quit their hunting, and come in with their deerskins. In those frolics the women never participated. Soon after the Revolutionary War, however, spirits became common in our tribe, and has been used indiscriminately by both sexes, though there are not so frequent instances of intoxication amongst the squaws as amongst 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 reclaim an Indian who has once experienced the exhilarating and inebriating effects of spirits from seeking his grave in the bottom of his 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 in a strap placed across my forehead soon after my captivity, and continue to carry in the same way. Upwards of thirty years ago, 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, hoe'd, and harvested corn every season but one since I was taken prisoner. Even this present fall, 1823, I have hussed my corn and backed it into the house. The first cow that I ever owned I bought of a squaw some time after the revolution. 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 in debt to any other hands than my own for the plenty that I have shared. My vices that have been suspected have been but few. It was believed for a long time by some of our people that I was a great witch, but they were unable to prove my guilt and consequently I escaped the certain doom of those who are convicted of that crime, which, by Indians, is considered as heinous as murder. Some of my children had light brown hair and tolerable fair skin which used to make some say that I stole them. Yet as I was ever conscious of my own constancy, I never thought that anyone really believed that I was guilty of adultery. I have been the mother of eight children, three of whom are now living, and I have at this time thirty-nine grandchildren and fourteen great-grandchildren, all living in the neighborhood of Genesee River and at Buffalo. I live in my own house and on my own land with my youngest daughter Polly, who is married to George Chongo 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 Betsy 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 seeing, hearing, and strength. But my only anxiety is for my family. If my family will live happily and I can be exempted 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 die than are commonly experienced by mortals. CHAPTER XVI. An account of the destruction of a part of the British army by the Indians at a place called the Devil's Hole on the Niagara River in the year 1763. It is to be regretted that an event of so tragical a nature as the following should have escaped the pens of American historians and have been suffered to slide down the current of time to the verge of oblivion, without having been snatched almost from the vortex of forgetfulness and placed on the faithful page as a memorial of premeditated cruelties which in former times were practiced upon the white people by the North American savages. Modern history, perhaps, cannot furnish a parallel so atrocious in design and execution as the one before us, and it may be questioned even if the history of ancient times when men fought hand to hand and disgraced their nature by inventing engines of torture can more than produce its equal. It will be observed in the preceding narrative that the affair at the Devil's Hole is said to have happened in November 1759, that Mrs. Jemison arrived at Genesee about that time is rendered certain from a number of circumstances and that a battle was fought on the Niagara in November 1759 in which two prisoners and some oxen were taken and brought to Genesee as she has stated is altogether probable, but it is equally certain that the event which is the subject of this article did not take place till the year 1763. In the time of the French War, the neighborhood of Forte's Niagara and Sclosser, or Sclosser as it was formally written, on the Niagara River was a general battleground and for this reason Mrs. Jemison's memory ought not to be charged with treachery for not having been able to distinguish accurately after the laughs of sixty years between the circumstances of one engagement and those of another. She resided on the Genesee at the time when the warriors of that tribe marched off to assist in laying the ambush at the Devil's Hole and no one will doubt her having heard them rehearse the story of the event of that nefarious campaign after they returned. Chronology and history concur in stating that Forte Niagara was taken from the French by the British and that General Prado was killed on the twenty-fifth of July 1759. Having obtained from Mrs. Jemison a kind of introduction to the story, I concluded that if it yet remained possible to procure a correct account of the circumstances which led to and attended that transaction, it would be highly gratifying to the American public. I accordingly directed a letter to Mr. Linus S. Everett of Buffalo, whose ministerial labor I well knew frequently called him to Lewiston, requesting him to furnish me with a particular account of the destruction of the British at the time and place before mentioned. He obligingly complied with my request and gave me the result of his inquiries on that subject in the following letter. A copy of a letter from Mr. Linus S. Everett dated Forte's Glusser, 29 December, 1823. Respected and dear friend, I hasten with much pleasure to comply with your request in regard to the affair at the Devil's Hole. I have often wondered that no authentic account has ever been given of that bloody and tragical scene. I have made all the inquiries that appear to be of any use and proceed to give you the result. At this place Forte's Glusser, an old gentleman now resides to whom I am indebted for the best account of the affair that can be easily obtained. His name is Jesse Ware, his age about seventy-four. Although he was not a resident of this part of the country at the time of the event, yet from his intimate acquaintance with one of the survivors, he is able to give much information which otherwise could not be obtained. The account that he gives is as follows. In July, 1759, the British, under Sir William Johnston, took possession of Forte's Niagara and Glusser, which had before been in the hands of the French. At this time the Seneca Indians, which were a numerous and powerful nation, were hostile to the British and warmly allied to the French. These two posts, Niagara and Glusser, were of great importance to the British on the account of affording the means of communication with the posts above or on the upper lakes. In 1760 a contract was made between Sir William Johnston and a Mr. Steadman to construct a portage road from Queenston Landing to Forte's Glusser, a distance of eight miles, in order to facilitate the transportation of provision, ammunition, etc., from one place to the other. In conformity to this agreement, on the 20th of June 1763, Steadman had completed his road and appeared at Queenston Landing, now Lewiston, with twenty-five portage wagons and one hundred horses and oxen to transport to Forte's Glusser the king's stores. At this time Sir William Johnston was suspicious of the intentions of the Seneca's, for after the surrender of the forts by the French they had appeared uneasy and hostile. In order to prevent the teams, drivers, and goods receiving injury he detached three hundred troops to guard them across the portage. The teams under this escort started from Queenston Landing. Steadman, who had the charge of the whole, was on horseback and rode between the troops and teams, all the troops being in front. On a small hill near the devil's hole at that time was a redoubt of twelve men which served as a kind of guard on ordinary occasions against the depredations of the savages. On the arrival of the troops and teams at the devil's hole, says a manuscript in the hands of my informant, the satchems, chiefs, and warriors of the Seneca Indians sallied from the adjoining woods by thousands where they had been concealed for some time before for that nefarious purpose, and falling upon the troops, teams, and drivers, and the guard of twelve men before mentioned, they killed all the men but three on the spot, or by driving them together with the teams down the precipice which was about seventy or eighty feet. The Indians seized Steadman's horse by the bridle while he was on him, designing no doubt to make his sufferings more lasting than that of his companions. But while the bloody scene was acting, the attention of the Indian who held the horse of Steadman being arrested, he cut the reins of his bridle, clapped spurs to his horse, and rode over the dead and dying into the adjacent woods without receiving injury from the enemy's firing. Thus he escaped, and besides him two others, one a drummer who fell among the trees was caught by his drum strap and escaped unhurt, the other one who fell down the precipice and broke his thigh but crawled to the landing or garrison down the river. Following September the Indians gave Steadman a piece of land as a reward for his bravery. With sentiments of respect, I remain, sir, your sincere friend, L. S. Errett. Mr. J. E. Siever. A particular account of General Sullivan's expedition against the Indians in the western part of the state of New York in 1779. It has been thought expedient to publish in its volume the following account of General Sullivan's expedition in addition to the facts related by Mrs. Jemisin of the barbarities which were perpetrated upon Lieutenant Boyd and two others who were taken and who formed a part of his army, etc. A detailed account of this expedition has never been in the hands of the public, and as it is now produced from a source deserving implicit credit, it is presumed that it will be received with satisfaction. John Salomon Esquire, to whom we are happy to acknowledge our indebtedness for the subjoined account, is an old gentleman of respectability and good standing in society, and is at this time a resident in the town of Groveland, Livingston County, New York. He was a hero in the American War for Independence, fought in the battles of his country under the celebrated Morgan, survived the blast of British oppression, and now in the decline of life sits under his own well-earned vine and fig-tree near the grave of his unfortunate countrymen who fell gloriously while fighting the ruthless savages under the command of the gallant Boyd. In the autumn after the battle at Manmoth, 1778, Morgan's rifleman, to which corps I belonged, marched to Schoherry in this state of New York, and there went into winter quarters. The company to which I was attached was commanded by Captain Michael Simpson and Thomas Boyd of Northumberland County, Pennsylvania, was our lieutenant. In the following spring our corps, together with the whole body of troops under the command of General Clinton, to the amount of about 1500, embarked in boats at Schenectady and ascended to Mohawk as far as German flats. Thence we took a direction to Otzigo Lake, descended to Susquehanna, and without any remarkable occurrence arrived at Toyoga Point, where our troops united with an army of 1500 men under the command of General Sullivan, who had marched through a part of New Jersey and had reached that place by the way of Wyoming some days before us. That part of the army under General Sullivan had, on their arrival at Toyoga Point, found the Indians in some force there, with whom they had had some unimportant skirmishes before our arrival. Upon the junction of these two bodies of troops, General Sullivan assumed the command of the whole and proceeded up to Toyoga. When within a few miles of the place now called Newtown, we were met by a body of Indians and a number of troops well known in those times by the name of Butler's Rangers, who had thrown up hastily a breastwork of logs, trees, etc. They were, however, easily driven from their works with considerable loss on their part and without any injury to our troops. The enemy fled with so much precipitation that they left behind them some stores and camp equipage. They retreated but a short distance before they made a stand and built another breastwork of considerable length in the woods near a small opening. Sullivan was soon apprised of their situation, divided his army and attempted to surround by sending one half to the right and the other to the left, with directions to meet on the opposite side of the enemies. In order to prevent their retreating, he directed bomb shells to be thrown over them, which was done, but on the shells bursting, the Indians suspected that a powerful army had opened a heavy fire upon them on that side and fled with the utmost precipitation through one wing of the surrounding army. A great number of the enemy were killed and our army suffered considerably. The Indians having in this manner escaped, they went up the river to a place called the Narrows, where they were attacked by our men who killed them in great numbers so that the sides of the rocks next to the river appeared as though blood had been poured on them by pailfuls. The Indians threw their dead into the river and escaped the best way they could. From Newtown, our army went directly to the head of the Seneca Lake, thence down that lake to its mouth where we found the Indian village at that place evacuated except by a single inhabitant, a male child about seven or eight years of age who was found asleep in one of the Indian huts. Its fate I have never ascertained. It was taken into the care of an officer of the army, who on account of ill health was not on duty and who took the child with him, as I have since understood to his residence on or near the North River. From the mouth of Seneca Lake we proceeded without the occurrence of anything of importance by the outlets of the Kenandegwa, Honioi, and Hemlock Lakes to the head of Canissius Lake where the army encamped on the ground that is now called Henderson's Flats. Soon after the army had encamped at the dusk of the evening a party of twenty-one men under the command of Lieutenant Boyd was detached from the rifle course and sent for the purpose of reconnoitering the ground near the Genesee River at a place now called Williamsburg at a distance from the camp of about seven miles under the guidance of a faithful Indian pilot. That place was then the site of an Indian village and it was apprehended that the Indians and Rangers might be there or in that vicinity in considerable force. On the arrival of the party at Williamsburg they found that the Indian village had been recently deserted as the fires and the huts were still burning. The night was so far spent when they got to their place of destination that Lieutenant Boyd, considering the fatigue of his men, concluded to remain during the night near the village and send two men, messengers, with a report to the camp in the morning. Accordingly a little before daybreak he dispatched two men to the main body of the army with information that the enemy had not been discovered. After daylight Lieutenant Boyd cautiously crept from the place of his concealment and upon getting a view of the village discovered two Indians hovering about the settlement, one of whom was immediately shot and scalped by one of the riflemen whose name was Murphy. Supposing that if there were Indians in that vicinity or near the village they would be instantly alarmed by this occurrence Lieutenant Boyd thought it most prudent to retire and make the best of his way to the general encampment of our army. They accordingly set out and retraced the steps which they had taken the day before till they were intercepted by the enemy. On their arriving within about one mile and a half of the main army they were surprised by the sudden appearance of a body of Indians to the amount of five hundred under the command of the celebrated brand and the same number of rangers commanded by the infamous butler who had secreted themselves in a ravine of considerable extent which lay across the track that Lieutenant Boyd had pursued. Upon discovering the enemy and knowing that the only chance for escape was by breaking through their line, one of the most desperate enterprises ever undertaken, Lieutenant Boyd after a few words of encouragement led his men to the attempt. As extraordinary as it may seem, the first onset, though unsuccessful, was made without the loss of a man on the part of the heroic ban, though several of the enemy were killed. Two attempts more were made which were equally unsuccessful and in which the whole party fell except Lieutenant Boyd and eight others. Lieutenant Boyd and a soldier by the name of Parker were taken prisoners on the spot, a part of the remainder fled, and a part fell on the ground, apparently dead, and were overlooked by the Indians who were too much engaged in pursuing the fugitives to notice those who fell. When Lieutenant Boyd found himself a prisoner, he solicited an interview with Brandt, whom he well knew commanded the Indians. This chief, who was at that moment near, immediately presented himself, when Lieutenant Boyd, by one of those appeals which are known only by those who have been initiated and instructed in certain mysteries, and which never failed to bring secure to a distressed brother, addressed him as the only source from which he could expect a respite from cruel punishment or death. The appeal was recognized, and Brandt immediately, and in the strongest language, assured him that his life should be spared. Lieutenant Boyd and his fellow prisoner Parker were immediately conducted by a party of the Indians to the Indian village called Beardstown, on the west side of Genesee River, in what is now called Lysester. After their arrival at Beardstown, Brandt, their generous preserver, being called on service which required a few hours' absence, left them in the care of the British Colonel Butler of the Rangers, who, as soon as Brandt had left them, commenced an interrogation to obtain from the prisoners a statement of the number, situation, and intentions of the army under General Sullivan, and threatened them in case they hesitated or pervericated in their answers, to deliver them up immediately to be massacred by the Indians, who in Brandt's absence, and with the encouragement of their more savage commander, Butler, were ready to commit the greatest cruelties. Relying probably on the promises which Brandt had made them, and which he undoubtedly meant to fulfill, they refused to give Butler the desired information. Butler, upon this, hastened to put his threat into execution. They were delivered to some of their most ferocious enemies, who, after having put them to very severe torture, killed them by severing their heads from their bodies. The main army, immediately after hearing of the situation of Lieutenant's Boyd's detachment, moved on towards Genesee River, and finding the bodies of those who were slaying in Boyd's heroic attempt to penetrate through the enemy's line, buried them in what is now the town of Groveland, where the grave is to be seen at this day. Upon their arrival at the Genesee River they crossed over, scoured the country for some distance on the river, burnt the Indian villages on the Genesee Flats, and destroyed all their corn and other means of subsistence. The bodies of Lieutenant Boyd and Parker were found and buried near the bank of Beards Creek, under a bunch of wild plum trees on the road as it now runs, from Moscow to Geneseeo. I was one of those who committed to the earth the remains of my friend and companion in arms, the Gallant Boyd. Immediately after these events the army commenced its march back by the same route that it came, to Tioga Point, thence down the Susquehanna, to Wyoming, and thence across the country to Morristown, New Jersey, where we went into winter quarters. General Sullivan's bravery is unimpeachable. He was unacquainted, however, with fighting the Indians and made use of the best means to keep them at such a distance that they could not be brought into an engagement. It was his practice, morning and evening, to have cannon fired in or near the camp by which the Indians were notified of their speed in marching, and of his situation, and were enabled to make a seasonable retreat. The foregoing account, according to the best of my recollection, is strictly accurate. John Salmon, Groveland, January 24, 1824 This choir Salmon was formerly from Northumberland County, Pennsylvania, and was first sergeant in Captain Simpson's and Lieutenant Boyd's Company. End of Appendix, Part 1 Appendix, Part 2 For A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Barry Eads A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison By James E. Sever Appendix, Part 2 Tradition of the origin of the Seneca Nation, their preservation from utter extinction, the means by which the people who preceded the Seneca's were destroyed, and the cause of the different Indian languages. The tradition of the Seneca Indians in regard to their origin, as we are assured by Captain Horatio Jones, who was the prisoner five years amongst them, and for many years since has been an interpreter and agent for the payment of their annuities, is that they broke out of the earth from a large mountain at the head of Canon Digua Lake, and that mountain they still venerate as the place of their birth. Thence they derive their name, Jinandewa. Footnote. This by some is spoken Jinandewaga. End footnote. 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 Canon Digua Lake, from once they sprung, is called Jinandewa, and has for a long time passed been the place where the Indians of that nation have met in council to hold great talks and to 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 Seneca's and barely spared enough to commence replenishing the earth. The Indians say, says Captain Jones, that the fort on the Big Hill, or Jinandewa, near the head of Canon Digua Lake, was surrounded by a monstrous serpent, whose head and tail came together at the gate. A long time it lay there, confounding 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 some time before on the outside 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 the hill into the lake, where they lie to this day in a petrified state, having the hardness and appearance of stones. 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 Seneca's have a tradition that previous two, and for some time after, their origin at Genendewa, this country, especially about the lakes, was sickly inhabited by a race of civil, enterprising, and industrious people, who were totally destroyed by the Great Serpent, that afterwards surrounded the Great Hill Fort with the assistance of others of the same species, and that they, the Seneca's, went into possession of the improvements that were left. In those days the Indians, throughout the whole country, as the Seneca's say, spoke one language, but having become considerably numerous, the before-mentioned Great Serpent, by an unknown influence, confounded their language 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 Seneca's retained their original language, and continued to occupy their Mother Hill, on which they fortified themselves against their enemies, and lived peaceably, till having offended the serpent. Footnote. The pagans of the Seneca's believed that all the little snakes were made of the blood of the Great Serpent, after it rolled into the lake, and footnote. They were cut off, as before stated. Of their religion, feasts, and great sacrifice. Perhaps no people are more exact observers of religious duties than those Indians among the Seneca's, who are denominated pagans in contra-distinction from those who, having renounced some of their former superstitious notions, have obtained the name of Christians. Their traditionary faith of their fathers, having been orally transmitted to them from time immemorial, is implicitly believed, scrupulously adhered to, and rigidly practiced. They are agreed in their sentiments. They are all of one order, and have individual and public good, especially among themselves, for 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 heard, 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 them. But they say that Jesus Christ has nothing to do with them, and that the Christian religion was not designed for their benefit, but rather, should they embrace 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 Christian 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, 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, now an EU, 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 comforts of life, and that he is particularly partial to the Indians, whom 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, or plenty abounds, even to profusion, 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 animals 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 that nothing is wanting to render fruition complete. For this territory they say Nawaniyu presides as an all-powerful king, and that without counsel he admits to his pleasure 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 perform many acts of devotion and reverence. They likewise believe that Nawaniyu has a brother that is less powerful than himself, and who is opposed to him, and to every one that is or wishes to be good, that this bad spirit made all evil things, snakes, wolves, catamounts, 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 Nawaniyu. 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 frequent. Game is very scarce and not easily taken. Ravenous beasts are numerous. Reptiles of every poisoned tooth lie in the path of the traveler. Streams are muddy, and hunger, nakedness, and general misery are severely felt by those who unfortunately become his tenants. He takes pleasure in afflicting the Indians here, and after their death receives all those into his dreary dominions, who in their lifetime have been so vile as to be rejected by Nawaniyu, under whose eye they are continued in an uncomfortable state forever. 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. Public 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 Nawaniyu for the blessings which they have received from his kind and liberal and provident hand, and also to converse upon the best means of meriting a continuance of his favors. The first of these feasts is immediately 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 Nawaniyu may continue to bless them and that the evil spirit may be defeated. On these occasions the chiefs 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 to 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 Nawaniyu. The second feast is after planting, when they render thanks for the pleasantness of the season, for the good time they have had for preparing their ground and planting 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 cornfest. 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 a 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, says Mrs. Jemisin, consisting of from ten to twenty active men, to superintend the festivities of the great sacrifice and thanksgiving that is to be immediately celebrated. 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 ceremonies are commenced and the whole is conducted with a great degree of order and harmony under the direction of the committee. Two white dogs, footnote, this was the practice in former times, but at present I am informed that only one dog is sacrifice and footnote, 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 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 height of twenty feet from the ground. This being done, the frolic is commenced by those who are present, while the committee run through the tribe, or town, and hurry the people to assemble by knocking on their houses. At this time the committee are naked, wearing only a breach 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 bare skin 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 other articles that are used for incense at the sacrifice. Each manager at this time carries a dried tortoise or turtle shell containing a few beans, which he frequently rubs on the walls of the houses, both inside and out. This kind of maneuvering by the committee continues two or three days, during which time the people at the council house recreate themselves by dancing. On the fourth or fifth day the committee make false faces of husks in which they run about, making a frightful but ludicrous appearance. In this dress still wearing the bare skin, they run to the council house smearing themselves with dirt, and bedaub everyone who refuses to contribute something towards filling the baskets of incense, which they continue to carry, soliciting alms. During all this time they collect the evil spirit, or drive it off entirely for the present, and also concentrate within themselves all the sins of their tribe, however numerous or heinous. On the eighth or ninth day the committee having received all the sin, as before observed into their own bodies, they take down the dogs, and after having transfused the whole of it into one of their own number, he, by a peculiar sleight of hand or kind of magic, works it 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 fire. Here they are burnt, together with the sins with which 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 now anew, to whom it is pleasant and acceptable. This feast continues nine days. Footnote at present, as I have been informed, this feast is not commonly held more than from five to seven days. In former times, until within a few years, nine days were particularly observed. End footnote. 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 an elegant dinner, consisting of meat, corn, and beans, boiled together in large skillets, and stirred till the whole is completely 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 the business of 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 way, but having been frequently imposed upon by the whites they treat them generally with indifference. Of their dances. Of these two only will be noticed. The war dance is said to have originated about the time that the Six Nations, or Northern Indians, commenced the old war with the Cherokees, and other southern Indian nations about one hundred years ago. When a tribe, or number of tribes, of the Six Nations had assembled for the purpose of going to battle with their enemies, the chiefs sung this song and accompanied the music with dancing, and gestures that corresponded with the sentiments expressed as a kind of stimulant 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 achievements of their fathers, and as a kind of amusement. When they perform it, they are in themselves with a war club, tomahawk, and knife, and commence singing with firm voice in a stern, 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. The song requires a number of repetitions in the tune, and has a chorus that is sung at the end of each verse. I have not presumed to arrange it in meter, but the following is the substance. We are assembled in the habiliments of war, and go in quest of our enemies. We will march to their land and spoil their possessions. We will take their women and children and lead them into captivity. The warriors shall fall by our war clubs. We will give them no quarter. Our tomahawks we will dip in their brains. With our scalping knives we will scalp them. At each period comes on the chorus, which consists of one monosyllable only that has sounded a number of times and articulated like a faint stifled groan. The word is eh, and signifies we will, or we will go, or we will do. While singing they perform the ceremony of killing and scalping with a great degree of dexterity. 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 the left by first moving their toes and then their heels. This dance is beautiful and is generally attended with decency. Of their government Their government is an oligarchy of a mixed nature and is administered by chiefs, a part of whose offices are hereditary and a part elective. The nation is divided into tribes and each tribe commonly has two chiefs. One of these inherits his office from his father. He superintends all civil affairs in the tribe, attends the National Council, of which he is a member, ascents to all conveyances of land, and is consulted on every subject of importance. The other is elected by the tribe and can be removed at the pleasure of his constituents for malconduct. He also is a member of the National Council, but his principal business is to superintend the military concerns of his tribe and in war to lead his warriors to battle. He acts in concert with the other chief and their word is implicitly relied on as the law by which they must be governed. That which they prohibit is not meddled with. The Indian laws are few and easily expounded. Their business of a public nature is transacted in council where every decision is final. They meet in general council once a year and sometimes oftener. The administration of the government is not attended with expense. They have no national revenue and consequently have no taxes. The extent and number of the six nations. The six nations in the State of New York are located upon several reservations. From the Oneida Lake to the Kataragas and Allegheny Rivers. A part of those nations live on the Sandusky in the State of Ohio. It is 380 Kayagas, 300 Seneca's, 64 Mohawks, 64 Onidas, and 80 Anandagas. The bulk of the Mohawks are on Grand River, Upper Canada, together with some Seneca's, Tuscaroras, Kayagas, Onidas, and Anandagas. In the State of New York there are 5000 and in the State of Ohio, 688. As we are assured by Captain Horatio Jones, agent for paying their annuities, making in the whole, in both States, 5,688. Of their courtships, etc., 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 expediency of their proposed connection. If it is not agreeable, the present is returned. But if it is, the lover is informed of his good fortune, and he immediately goes to live with her, or takes her to a hut of his own preparing. Polygamy is practiced in a few instances and is not prohibited. Divorces are frequent. If a difficulty of importance arises between a married couple, they agree to separate. They divide their property in children. The squaw takes the girls, the Indian the boys, and both are at liberty to marry again. They have no marriage ceremony nor form of divorcement other than what has been mentioned. Of family government. In their families, parents are very mild, and the mother super intends the children. The word of the Indian father, however, is law and must be obeyed by the whole that are under his authority. One thing respecting the Indian women is worthy of attention and perhaps of imitation, although it is nowadays considered beneath the dignity of the ladies, especially those who are the most refined, and that is they are under a becoming subjection to their husbands. It is a rule, and calculated in all the Indian tribes, and practiced throughout their generations, that a squaw shall not walk before her Indian, nor pretend to take the lead in his business. And for this reason we never can see a party on the march to or from hunting, and the like in which the squaws are not directly in the rear of their partners, of their funerals. The deceased having been laid out in his best clothing is put into a coffin of boards or bark and with him is deposited in every instance a small cup and a cake. Generally two or three candles are also put into the coffin, 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 person 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 situation, nor on his journey, and not to trouble his friends, wife or children 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 situation 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 Nawa Niu. 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 set 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 dead are not allowed to dance. Formally frolics were held, after the expiration of nine days, for the dead 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. Of their credulity. As ignorance is the parent of credulity, it is not a thing to be wondered at that the Indians should possess it in a great degree, and even suffer themselves to be dictated and governed by it in many of the most important transactions of their lives. They place great confidence in dreams, attach some sign to every uncommon circumstance, and believe in charms, spirits, and many supernatural things that never existed, only in minds enslaved to ignorance and tradition. But in no instance is their credulity so conspicuous as in their unalterable belief in witches. They believe there are many of these, and that next to the author of evil they are the greatest scourge to their people. The term which, by them, is used both in the masculine and feminine gender, and 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 lies in their power, every source of unhappiness, it has been a custom among them from time immemorial to destroy everyone that they could convict of so heinous a crime, and in fact there is no reprieve from the sentence. Mrs. Jemison informed us that more or less who had been charged with being witches had been executed in almost every year since she has lived on the Genesee. Many on being suspected made their escape, while others, before they were aware of being implicated, had been apprehended and brought to trial. She says that a number of years ago an Indian chased a squaw near Beardstown and caught her, but on the account of her great strength she got away. The Indian, vexed and disappointed, went home, and the next day reported that he saw her have fire in her mouth, and that she was a witch. Upon this she was apprehended and killed immediately. She was Big Tree's cousin. Mrs. Jemison says she was present at the execution. She also saw one other killed and thrown into the river. Well Jeremiah Smith, of Lysester, near Beardstown, saw an Indian killed by his five brothers, who struck him on the head with their tomahawks at one time. He was charged with being a witch, because of his having been fortunate enough, when on a hunting party, to kill a number of deer while his comrades failed of taking any. Colonel Smith also saw a squaw, who had been convicted of being a witch, killed by having small green whips burnt till they were red hot, but not quite cold, and thrust down her throat. From such trifling causes, thousands have lost their lives, and notwithstanding the means that are used for their reformation, the pagans will not suffer a witch to live. Of the manner of farming is practiced by the Indian women. It is well known that the squaws have all the labor of the field to perform, and almost every other kind of hard service, which in civil society is performed by the men. In order to expedite their business, and at the same time enjoy each other's company, they all work together in one field, or whatever job they may have on hand. In the spring they choose an old, active squaw to be their driver and overseer, one 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 prepared, the squaws are assembled in the morning and conducted into a field where each plants one row. They then go into the next field, plant once across, and so on till they have gone through the tribe. If any remains 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 cuts her own wood, but it is all brought to the house under the direction of the overseer, each bringing one back load. Of their method of computing time and keeping their records. This is done 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 campaign they make, or rather the chief makes, a perpendicular red mark, about three inches long and a half an inch wide. On the opposite side from this, for a scalp, they make a red cross, thus, plus. On another side, for a prisoner taken, they make a red cross in this manner, x, with a head or dot, and by placing such significant hieroglyphics in so conspicuous a situation, they are enabled to ascertain with great certainty the time and circumstances of past events. Hoikatu had a war post on which was recorded his military exploits and other things he thought worth preserving. End of Appendix Part II Hoikatu used to say that 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 Buckingy Hillish. Buckingy Hillish having, with great fatigue, attended the council when it was deliberating upon war, declared that none but the ignorant made war, but that the wise men and the warriors had to do the fighting. This speech exasperated his countrymen to such a degree that he was apprehended 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 the last war, 1814, an Indian who had been on fatigue called at a commissary and begged some bread. He was sent for a pail of water before he received it, and while he was absent an officer told the commissary to put a piece of money into the bread and observe the event. He did so. The Indian took the bread and went off, but on the next day having ate his bread and found the money, he came to the commissary and gave him the same as the officer had anticipated. Littlebeard, a celebrated Indian chief, having arrived to a very advanced age, died at his town on the Genesee River about the first of June, 1806, and was buried after the manner of burying chiefs. In his lifetime he had been quite arbitrary, and had made some enemies whom he hated probably, and was not loved by them. The grave, however, deprives envy of its malignity and revenge of its keenness. Littlebeard had been dead but a few days when the great eclipse of the sun took place on the 16th of June, which excited in the Indians a great degree of astonishment, for as they were ignorant of astronomy they were totally unqualified to account for so extraordinary a phenomenon. The crisis was alarming and something effectual must be done. Without delay to remove is possible the cause of such coldness and darkness which it was expected would increase. They accordingly ran together in the three towns near the Genesee River, and after a short consultation agreed that Littlebeard, on the account of some old grudge which he yet cherished towards them, had placed himself between them and the sun in order that their corn might not grow and so reduce them to a state of starvation. Having thus found the cause, the next thing was to remove it, which could only be done 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 obscurity was entirely removed to the great joy of the ingenious and fortunate Indians. On the month of February 1824, corn planter, a learned pagan chief at Tanawanta, died of common sickness. He had received a liberal education and was held in high estimation in his town and tribe by both parties. But the pagans more particularly mourned his loss deeply and seemed entirely unreconciled. They imputed his death to witchcraft and charged an Indian by the name of Prompit with the crime. Mr. Prompit is a Christian Indian of the Tuscarora Nation, who has lived at Tanawanta a number of years where he has built a sawmill himself which he owns and is considered a decent respectable man. About two weeks after the death of corn planter, Mr. Prompit happened in company where the author was present and immediately begun to converse upon that subject. He said that the old-fashioned Indians called him a witch, believed that he had killed corn planter and had said that they would kill him. But said he, all good people know that I am not a witch and that I am clear of the charge. Likely enough they will kill me, but if they do my hands are clean, my conscience is clear, and I shall go up to God. I will not run nor hide from them, and they may kill me if they choose to. I am innocent. When Jesus Christ's enemies said he wanted to kill him, he did not run away from them, but let them kill him. And why should I run away from my enemies? How the affair will terminate, we are unable to decide. Description of Genesee River and its banks, from Mount Morris to the Upper Falls. From Mount Morris the banks of the Genesee are from two to four hundred feet in height, with narrow flats on one side of the river or the other till you arrive at the track called Gardoe or Cross Hills. Here you come to Mrs. Jemisin's flats, which are two miles and a quarter long, and from eighty to one hundred and twenty yards wide, lying mostly on the west side of the river. Near the upper end of these flats is the Great Slide. Directly above this, the banks, still retaining their before-mentioned height, approach so near each other as to admit but thirty acres of flat on one side of the river only, and above this the perpendicular rock comes down to the water. From Gardoe you ascend the river five miles to the lower falls, which are ninety-three feet perpendicular. These falls are twenty rods wide, and have the greatest channel on the east side. From Wolf Creek to these falls, the banks are covered with elegant white and Norway pine. Above the lower falls, the banks for about two miles are of perpendicular rock, and retain their height of between two and four hundred feet. When traveled this distance, you reach the middle falls, which are an uninterrupted sheet of water fifteen rods wide, and one hundred and ten feet in perpendicular height. This natural curiosity is not exceeded by anything of the kind in the western country except the cataract at Niagara. From the middle falls, the banks gradually rise till you ascend the river half a mile, when you come to the upper falls, which are somewhat rolling sixty-six feet in the shape of a hero. Above this the banks are of moderate height. The timber from the lower to the upper falls is principally pine. Just above the middle falls, a sawmill was erected this season, eighteen-twenty-three, by Messers, Zeba Herd, and Alva Palmer. HUNTING ENDED UP In November, eighteen-twenty-two, Captain Stephen Rolf and Mr. Alva Palmer drove a deer into Genesee River a short distance above the middle falls, where the banks were so steep and the currents so impetuous that it could not regain the shore, and consequently was precipitated over the falls one hundred and ten feet into the gulf below. The hunters ran along the bank below the falls to watch the fate of the animal, expecting it would be dashed in pieces. But to their great astonishment it came up alive, and by swimming across a small eddy reached the bank almost under the falls, and as it stood in that situation, Captain Rolf, who was at the top of the bank, shot it. This being done, the next thing to be considered was how to get their prize. The rock being perpendicular, upwards of one hundred feet, would not admit of their climbing down to it, and there was no way, apparently, for them to get at it, short of going down the river two miles to the lower falls, and then by creeping between the water and the precipice, they might possibly reach their game. This process would be too tedious. At length, Mr. Palmer proposed to Captain Rolf and Mr. Heman Merwin, who had joined them, that if they would make a windlass and fasten it to a couple of saplings that stood near, and then procure some ropes, he would be let down and get the deer. The apparatus was prepared, the rope was tied around Palmer's body, and he was let down. On arriving at the bottom he unleashed himself, fastened the rope round the deer, which they drew up, and then threw down the rope, in which he fastened himself, and was drawn up without having sustained any injury. From the top to the bottom of the rock, where he was let down, was exactly one hundred and twenty feet. Finesse End of Appendix, Part Three End of A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemisin by James E. Siever