A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary JemisonSeaver, James E. (James Everett)
History
A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison
Seaver, James E. (James Everett)
Jemison, Mary, 1743-1833; Seneca Indians
The use of ardent spirits amongst the Indians, and the attempts which
have been made to civilize and christianize them by the white people,
has 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 what 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 for their cultivation in the
sciences and arts.
One thing only marred my happiness, while I lived with them on the Ohio;
and that was the recollection that I had once had tender parents, and
a home that I loved. Aside from that consideration, or, if I had
been taken in infancy, I should have been contented 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 towards their friends, and strictly
honest; and that those cruelties have been practised, 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 of regret on parting with those who had truly been my friends--with
those whom I had every reason to respect. On account of a part of our
family living at Genishau, we thought it doubtful whether we should
return directly from Pittsburgh, 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 on our voyage up the river.
Nothing remarkable occurred to us on our way, till we arrived at the
mouth of a creek which Sheninjee and my brother 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 floating 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 store we had passed the same day.
Sheninjee being alarmed for fear of being apprehended as one of the
murderers, if he should go on, resolved to put about immediately, and we
accordingly returned to where the traders had lived, and there landed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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