[1.1]  . . . On the 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 not able to state positively, which of the two countries, Ireland or Scotland, was the land of my parents’ birth and education. It, however, is my impression, that they were born and brought up in Ireland. [Scotch-Irish]

[1.2] My Father's name was Thomas Jemison, and my mother's before her marriage with him, was Jane Erwin. Their affection for each other was mutual . . . .

[1.3] Resolved to leave the land of their nativity they removed from their residence to a port in Ireland, where they . . . set sail for this country, in the year 1742 or 3 on board the ship Mary William, bound to Philadelphia, in the state of Pennsylvania.

[1.4] The intestine [internal] divisions, civil wars, and ecclesiastical [institutional-church] rigidity and domination that prevailed those days, were the causes of their leaving their mother country [for] a home in the American wilderness, under the mild and temperate government of the descendants of William Penn [i.e., Quakers] . . . .

[1.5] In Europe my parents had two sons and one daughter, whose names were John, Thomas and Betsey; with whom, after having put their effects [possessions] on board, they embarked . . . .

[1.6] In the course of their voyage I was born . . . .

[1.7] 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 the then-frontier settlements of Pennsylvania, to a tract of excellent land lying on Marsh creek. At that place he cleared a large farm, and for seven or eight years enjoyed the fruits of his industry. 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 . . . .

[1.8] 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 Robert.

[1.9]  . . . Our mansion [house] was a little paradise. . . . Frequently I dream of those happy days: but . . . they have left me to be carried through a long life, dependent for the little pleasures of nearly seventy years, upon the tender mercies of the Indians! In the spring of 1752, 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.

[These paragraphs describe events of the French and Indian War, 1754-63; as in Narrative of Mary Rowlandson [King Philip's War], compare descriptions of Indians to modern terrorists.]

[1.10] The next year the storm gathered faster; many murders 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 immediately set on fire, while their tormentors, exulting in their distress, would rejoice at their agony! [ritual fire-torture, practiced by some Iroquois on their enemies]

[1.11] 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 (secondarily) under the command of Col. George Washington. . . . The French and Indians . . . grew more and more terrible. The death of the whites, and plundering and burning their property, was apparently their only object . . . .

[1.12] The winter of 1754-5 was as mild as a common fall season, and the spring presented a pleasant seed time, and indicated a plenteous harvest. . . .

[1.13] But alas! how transitory are all human affairs! . . . In one fatal day our prospects were all blasted; and death, by cruel hands, inflicted upon almost the whole of the family.

[1.14] On a pleasant day in the spring of 1755 . . . I was sent to a neighbor's house, a distance of perhaps a mile, to procure a horse and return with it the next morning. I went as I was directed. I was out of the house in the beginning of the evening, and saw a sheet widespread approaching towards me, in which I was caught (as I have ever since believed) and deprived of my senses! The family soon found me on the ground, almost lifeless, (as they said,) took me in . . . till day-break, when my senses returned, and I soon found myself in good health, so that I went home with the horse very early in the morning.

[1.15] The appearance of that sheet, I have ever considered as a forerunner of the melancholy catastrophe that so soon afterwards happened to our family . . . .

map indicating Scotch-Irish immigration
(not to scale; Northern Ireland at bottom; American Atlantic ports at left)