[16.1] . . . 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 [drinking party?]. When I was taken prisoner, and for sometime 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.

[16.2] 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 year, and that at the time the Indians quit their hunting, and come in with their deer-skins.

[16.3] In those frolics the women never participated. Soon after the revolutionary war, however, spirits [alcohol] 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.

[16.4] To the introduction and use or that baneful article [alcohol], which has made such devastation in our tribes, and threatens the extinction of our people, (the Indians,) I can with the greatest propriety impute [attribute] 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!

[16.5] My strength has been great for a woman of my size . . . . I have planted, hoed, and harvested corn every season but one since I was taken prisoner. Even this present fall (1823) I have husked my corn and backed it into the house.

[16.6] The first cow that I ever owned, I bought of a squaw sometime after the revolution. It had been stolen from the enemy. . . .

[16.7]  . . . 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 . . . .

[16.8] 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 River, and at Buffalo.

[16.9] 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.

[16.10] My daughter Nancy, who is married to Billy Green, lives about 80 rods [400 yards] south of my house, and has seven children.

[16.11] My other, daughter, Betsey, is married to John Green, has seven children, and resides 80 rods north of my house.

[16.12] Thus situated in the midst of my children, I expect I shall soon leave the world, and make room for the rising generation. . . . 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 dye, than are commonly experienced by mortals.

END of selections from Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison