Conrad Weiser's Journey to Onondaga in 1736

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History of the Mohawk Palatines

Conrad Weiser's Journey to Onondaga in 1736

The following excerpt is taken from Conrad Weiser's diary found in his biography called:

Conrad Weiser, Friend of Colonist and Mohawk
by Paul AW Wallace.

It tells about a journey he made to Onondaga from Pennsylvania in 1736 as the Province Interpreter.

For those who are interested in such things it is very intense reading.

It describes what the Palatine scouts of the Schoharie Valley settlement encountered as they explored deep into the New York wilderness, and it paints a clear picture in the reader's mind's-eye about what lay beyond the Burnetsfield settlement deep in the Haudenosaunee longhouse.

It also shows what life was like for the Indians whose land had become increasingly depleted of game animals because of the Fur Trade.

Conrad Weiser lived with the Schoharie tribe as a teenager and he was subsequently adopted by Mohawks into the Wolf Clan. They named him Tarachiawagon - Holder of the Heavens.

We proceeded on our journey, well pleased that we were all together again, and the same evening reached some Indians living on the Susquehannah river, where we, however, found nothing but hungry people who sustained life with the juice of the sugar-trees. We, however, procured a little weak soup made of corn meal. I had a quantity of Indian trinkets with me, but could procure no meal. My only comfort this evening was, that whoever labors or is tired will find sleep sweet.

The 29th we proceeded on our journey at an early hour, but without breakfast; reached a dangerous place where the path on the bottom-land was overflowed by the river, which was not very high, and we had to cross a very high mountain, which was not much better than the one where Shikelimo had met with his fall. We passed safely, and towards evening we were also safely ferried, in a canoe, over the great branch of the Susquehannah river.

All the streams are very high, for the [snows] had been uncommonly deep this winter. This water is called Dia-ogon, and comes from a region of the Sinicker and Gaiuckers. [Senecas and Cayugas] There are many Indians living here, partly Gaiuckers, partly Mahikanders. We went into several huts to get meat, but they had nothing, they said, for themselves. The men were mostly absent, hunting; some of the old mothers asked us for bread. We returned to our quarters with a Mahikander, who directed his old gray-headed mother to cook a soup of Indian corn. She hung a large kettle of it over the fire, and also a smaller one with potash, and made them both boil briskly.

What she was to do with the potash was a mystery to me, for I soon saw that it was not for the purpose of washing, as some of the Indians are in the practice of doing, by making a lye, and washing their foul and dirty clothes. For the skin of her body was not unlike the bark of a tree, from the dirt, which had not been washed off for a long time, and was quite dried and cracked; and her finger-nails were like eagles' claws. She finally took the ash kettle off the fire, and put it aside until it had settled, and left a clear liquor on top, which she carefully poured into the kettle of corn.

I inquired of my companions why this was done; and they told me it was the practice of these and the Shawanos, when they had neither meat nor grease, to mix their food with lye prepared in this manner, which made it slippery, and pleasant to eat. When the soup was thus prepared, the larger portion was given to us, and out of hunger I quietly eat a portion, which was not of a bad taste. The dirty cook, and the unclean vessel, were more repulsive.

After I had eaten a little, and quieted the worst cravings of hunger, I took some of my goods, and quietly left the hut, without being noticed by my companions, and went into another hut, gave the old gray-headed mother twenty-four needles and six shoe-strings, and begged her to give me some bread made of Indian-corn, if it were only as much as I could eat at one meal. She immediately gave me five small loves of about a pound weight, of which I and Stoffel eat two the same evening. The Indians eat so much of the soup that they became sick. We had intended to take a day of rest here, if we could have procured meat, but had to be content to proceed on our journey.

The 30th we proceeded on our journey without anything to eat except the remaining [3] loaves, which were divided among us five. We passed a dangerous creek by wading in the shallow water, and passing the stream on a half fallen tree, which hung across the water. The current was frightful. An Indian from the last village, who was to help us over the water, and show us the path, fell into the water so that we saw neither hide nor hair; but soon rose, and saved himself by swimming to the opposite shore to the one we were trying to reach.

Towards evening we arrived at the branch Owego; the Indian village was on the other side of the river, about a mile off. All the bottom land between us and the village was under water, and the current was rapid. We fired our guns three times, but no one would hear or show himself. If we had not seen the smoke of the huts, we would have thought that the village was deserted.

We began to prepare a fire and wood for a camp, and having made a long day's journey on hungry stomachs, were about to retire to sleep in that condition, and had already laid down, when a great storm came up from the west, with thunder and lightening, and such a violent rain, that it was almost incredible. We could not find a place to lie down, but stood the whole night around the fire.

Towards morning it became very cold, and ice formed in every direction; the day before having been very warm, and succeeded by the thunder-storm, of which it was the cause. At dawn we again commenced firing our pieces, on which a canoe with some women at last came from the village, to take us across the river, as we supposed. But they only came over the bottom land to the edge of the river, where they called to us that th ere were no men in the village, and the women could not venture to cross the raging flood; which was of so unusual a height that the bottom land was flooded, which had not been the case for many years, and in particular as their canoe was so small. Tawagarat, whose home was there, called to them to venture.

I had new reasons to praise the protection of God, who had rescued us from such imminent peril; the water flew between the trees like arrows from a bow, where if we had struck one, of which there were so many, we must have perished.

The Indians gladly received us into their huts, and showed us their compassion. Some of them were old acquaintances of mine from Schochry [Schoharie]; they gave us food repeatedly, but each time only a little, so as not to injure our health. They were Caiuckers [Cayugas].

All the men were absent hunting, except a couple of old gray-headed men, who had lodged at my home in Schochary some fifteen of sixteen years ago,[1720, 1721] and had shown me many favors according to their ability. Tawagarat remained here, and lodged in the hut of his mother-in-law; the women who had hidden her face was his wife, and did so from modesty. Such is the custom of the virtuous women of the Indian tribes. We remained here to-day to recruit ourselves a little, and also to procure provisions for the further progress of our journey.

April the 1st, we still remained here; by my reckoning we are now two hundred and eighty miles from home.

April the 2nd, we started about noon on our journey and reached the water called Ononto, and were immediately taken across in a canoe. several families of Onontagers live here, with one of whom, an old acquaintance, we took up our lodgings, and were well treated.

The 3rd, we reached the village Otsen-insky, inhabited by Onontagers and Shawanos. I was at this place in 1726, but find my old acquaintances of that period partly absent, partly dead. We still had five days journey, according to the report of these Indians, from here to Onontago, the object of our tiresome journey, as we could not take the nearest route by reason of the numerous creeks, and must keep upon the hills.

The family with whom we lodged had not a mouthful to eat. The larger part of this village had been living for more than a month on the juice of the sugar-tree, which is as common here as hickory in Pennsylvania.

We shared our small stock of provisions with sundry sick and children, who stood before us in tears while we were eating. From the time we left Madam Montour's, I generally gave to each one of us his daily portion; if I gave of my own portion a part to these poor creatures, I met with no sour looks, but if I took from the capital stock to give to them, my companions showed great dissatisfaction. But this did not hinder a thief from stealing, while we were asleep, the remainder of our stock of bread, which was but small.

This was the first misfortune that happened to us; the second was, that we heard the snow was still knee deep in the direction we were to travel, and that it was impossible to proceed; the third was, that the rainy weather in which we had arrived was turned to snow, of which eighteen inches fell in one night; the worst was, that we had nothing to eat, and our bodily strength began to fail from many trials both of hunger and cold.

Here we were obliged to remain and pass the time in distress. I could, to be sure, purchase with needles and shoe strings, sugar made from the juice of the tree already mentioned, on which we sustained life, but it did not agree with us; we became quite ill with much drinking to quench the thirst caused by the sweetness of the sugar.

My companion Stoffel became impatient and out of spirits, and wished himself dead. He desired me to procure a canoe in which to float down the streams until we reached Pennsylvania, which might have been done in six or eight days, but not without provisions, and not without considerable danger, as the Susquehannah was very high and rapid, and we did not know the channel in such a swollen state of water.

But I was now determined on no account to return home without accomplishing the object of my mission, in particular as I knew the danger of the river. Two weeks before, I would gladly have turned back, as I foresaw all the difficulties we must undergo and conquer, but no one then would turn back or see the difficulties I feared. Stoffel wished that he had followed my advice at that time.

I was now, however, so resigned to misery, that I could have submitted to the greatest bodily hardships without resistance, since I had been relieved from the tortures of the mind by the wonderful hand of God.

I had at a previous period of my life, wished that I had never heard of a God, either from my parents or other people, for the idea I had of him led me away from him. I thought the atheists more happy than those who cared much about God. Oh, how far man is removed from God, yes, inexpressibly far, although God is near, and cannot impart the least thing to corrupt man until he has given himself up without conditions, and in such a manner as cannot be explained or described, but may be experienced in great anguish of body and mind.

How great is the mercy of the Lord and how frequent; his power, his goodness, and his truth are everywhere evident. In short, our God created the heavens; the gods of the heathen are idols.

During the next couple of days the snow began to melt and they found a little food in an abandoned Indian hut.

Conrad divided the food with a couple of Indian runners who he sent ahead to inform the Onondaga chiefs of his coming.

Then Conrad continued writing his journal, and this part is very interesting.

Among other things, I asked them how it happened that they were so short of provisions now, while twelve years ago, [1724] they had a greater supply than all the other Indians; and now their children looked like dead persons, and suffered much from hunger.

They answered, that now game was scarce, and that hunting had strangely failed since last winter; some of them had procured nothing at all; - that the Lord and Creator of the world was resolved to destroy the Indians. One of their seers, whom they named, had seen a vision of God, who had said to him the following words: - You inquire after the cause why game has become so scarce. I will tell you. You kill it for the sake of the skins, which you give for strong liquors, and drown your senses, and kill one another, and carry on a dreadful debauchery. If you will do good, and cease from your sins, I will bring them back; if not, I will destroy you from off the earth.

I inquired if they believed what the seer had seen and heard? They answered, yes, some believed it would happen so; others also believed it, but gave themselves no concern about it. Time will show, said they, what is to happen to us; rum will kill us, and leave the land clear for the Europeans, without strife or purchase.

The Indians living here are on an arm of the Susquehannah, which comes out of high mountains, and is a rapid stream. I saw the children here walking up and down the banks of the stream, along the low land, where the high water had washed the wild potatoes, or ground acorns, out of the ground. These grow here on a long stem or root, about the size of a thick straw, and there are frequently from five to ten hanging to such a root, which is often more than six feet long. The richer the soil, the longer they grow, and the greater the quantity in the ground. The largest are the size of a pigeon's egg, or larger, and look much in size and shape like black acorns.

I thought of the words of Job, Chapter 30, 3-8, while these barbarians were satisfying their hunger with these roots, and rejoicing greatly when they found them in large numbers, and dug them up.

In the meanwhile, an Indian had the kindness to invite me privately to supper. I took Stoffel with me; he gave us to eat by night on two occasions. A third time, another old acquaintance presented me with four small loaves one evening, which I immediately divided among my companions, and the surrounding hungry children.

These Indians often came to my lodgings, or invited me to their huts, for the purpose of talking (they are very inquisitive), and thus we passed the hungry hours away, in relating old or new events or traditions, and smoking tobacco, which they have in plenty.

From want and famine they are gaunt
Who gnaw the dry ground by night in waist and desolation,
Who pluck mallow by the bushes,
And whose food is the root of the broom shrub.

They are driven from the community;
They shout against them as against a thief,
So that they dwell in dreadful valleys,
In holes of the earth and of the rocks.

Among the bushes they cry out;
Under the nettles they are gathered together.
Fools, even those without a name,
They are scourged from the land.

Job, Chapter 30, 3-8

Artwork by: Glen Barnes Art