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
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 remembrance. 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
description, perished from the cold also, and were found dead, in
multitudes. Many of our people barely escaped with their lives, and some
actually died of hunger and freezing.
But to return from this digression: 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 comfortable than I expected to
through the winter, and the next season made a shelter for myself.
The negroes continued on my flats two or three years after this, and
then 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.
My flats were cleared before I saw them; and it was the opinion of the
oldest Indians that were at Genishau, at the time that I first went
there, that all the flats on the Genesee river were improved before any
of the Indian tribes ever saw them. I well remember that soon after I
went to Little Beard's Town, the banks of Fall-Brook were washed off,
which left a large number of human bones uncovered. The Indians then
said that those were not the bones of Indians, because they had never
heard of any of their dead being buried there; but that they were the
bones of a race of men who a great many moons before, cleared that land
and lived on the flats.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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