[6.1] After the conclusion of the French war, our tribe had nothing to trouble it till the commencement of the [American] Revolution. For twelve or fifteen years the use of the implements of war was not known, nor the war-whoop heard, save on days of festivity, when the achievements of former times were commemorated in a kind of mimic warfare, in which the chiefs and warriors displayed their prowess, and illustrated their former adroitness, by laying the ambuscade [ambush], surprising their enemies, and performing many accurate maneuvers with the tomahawk and scalping knife; thereby preserving and handing to their children, the theory of Indian warfare. During that period they also pertinaciously [determinedly] observed the religious rites of their progenitors . . . .

[6.2] They also practiced in various athletic games, such as running, wrestling, leaping, and playing ball, with a view that their bodies might be more supple, or rather that they might not become enervated, and that they might be enabled to make a proper selection of Chiefs for the councils of the nation and leaders for war.

[6.3] While the Indians were thus engaged in their round of traditionary performances, with the addition of hunting, their women attended to agriculture, their families, and a few domestic concerns . . . attended with but little labor.

[6.4] No people can live more happy than the Indians did in times of peace, before the introduction of spirituous liquors amongst them. Their lives were a continual round of pleasures. Their wants were few, and easily satisfied [contrast modern profit-capitalism, which must continually find new markets and promote new needs]; and their cares were only for to-day; the bounds of their calculations for future comfort not extending to the incalculable uncertainties of to-morrow. If peace ever dwelt with men, it was in former times, in the recesses from war, amongst what are now termed barbarians. The moral character of the Indians was (if I may be allowed the expression) uncontaminated. Their fidelity was perfect, and became proverbial; they were strictly honest; they despised deception and falsehood; and chastity was held in high veneration, and a violation of it was considered sacrilege. They were temperate in their desires, moderate in their passions, and candid and honorable in the expression of their sentiments on every subject of importance. [Written in 1824, this account—possibly through Seaver’s intervention—already romanticizes the Indian in terms comparable to Cooper’s Last of the Mohicans (1826).]

[6.5] Thus, at peace amongst themselves, and with the neighboring whites, though there were none at that time very near, our Indians lived quietly and peaceably at home, till a little before the breaking out of the revolutionary war, when they were sent for, together with the Chiefs and members of the Six Nations [Iroquois Confederacy] generally, by the people of the States, to go to the German Flats [German Flatts, area in central NY State, later name of a town there], and there hold Their wants were few, and easily satisfied, in order that the people of the states might ascertain, in good season, who they should esteem and treat as enemies, and who as friends, in the great war which was then upon the point of breaking out between them and the King of England.

[6.6] Our Indians obeyed the call . . . and a treaty made, in which the Six Nations solemnly agreed that if a war should eventually break out, they would not take up arms on either side; but that they would observe a strict neutrality.  . . .

[6.7] About a year passed off, . . . when a messenger arrived from the British Commissioners, requesting all the Indians of our tribe to attend a general council which was soon to be held at Oswego []. The council convened, and being opened, the British Commissioners informed the Chiefs that the object of calling a council of the Six Nations, was, to engage their assistance in subduing the rebels, the people of the states, who had risen up against the good King, their master . . . .

[6.8] The Chiefs then . . . informed the Commissioners of the . . . treaty which they had entered into with the people of the states, the year before, and that they should not violate it by taking up the hatchet against them.

[6.9] The Commissioners continued their entreaties without success, till they addressed their avarice . . . add[ing], that the King was rich and powerful, both in money and subjects: That his rum was as plenty as the water in lake Ontario: that his men were as numerous as the sands upon the lake shore:—and that the Indians . . . should never want for money or goods. Upon this the Chiefs concluded a treaty with the British Commissioners, in which they agreed to take up arms against the rebels . . . .

[6.10] As soon as the treaty was finished, the Commissioners made a present to each Indian of a suit of clothes, a brass kettle, a gun and tomahawk, a scalping knife, a quantity of powder and lead [gunpowder and shells], a piece of gold, and promised a bounty on every scalp that should be brought in. Thus richly clad and equipped, they returned home, after an absence of about two weeks, full of the fire of war, and anxious to encounter their enemies. Many of the kettles which the Indians received at that time are now in use on the Genesee Flats. [introduction of industrial products; Indians formerly cooked in clay pots]

[6.11] Hired to commit depredations upon the whites, who had given them no offence, they waited impatiently to commence their labor, till sometime in the spring of 1776 . . . .

[6.12] In May following, our Indians were in their first battle with the Americans . . . . While they were absent at that time, my daughter Nancy was born.

[6.13] . . . [T]he British sent for the Indians to come and see them whip the rebels; and . . . stated that they [the British] did not wish to have them [the Indians] fight, but [to] just sit down smoke their pipes, and look on. Our Indians went . . . but contrary to their expectation, instead of smoking and looking on, they were obliged to fight for their lives, and in the end of the battle were completely beaten . . . . Our Indians alone had thirty-six killed, and a great number wounded. Our town exhibited a scene of real sorrow and distress, when our warriors returned and recounted their misfortunes, and stated the real loss they had sustained in the engagement. The mourning was excessive, and was expressed by the most doleful yells, shrieks, and howlings, and by inimitable gesticulations [here the civilized voice of Seaver prevails over the Indian voice of Mary]. . . .