Upon the 19th March, 1867, the writer was privileged, through the kindness of the Rev. Mr. Anderson, to visit an individual who, of all others, possesses historie interest. About half a mile north of the Indian Church upon the old York road, Tyendinaga, lives Christian Moore. Beside the stove, in a low Indian chair, sat a woman whose shrunken and bent appearance made her appear no larger than a girl of sixteen. But the face, with its parchment-like skin and the deeply wrinkled features, bespoke the burden of many winters. Yet, the eye still flashed looks of intelligence, as the face was upturned from her hands on which she almost incessantly rested her head, as if the shoulders had wearied in their long life duty. Christian is about a hundred years old, during eighty of which she has remained a captive with the Mohawks. Although a white woman, she knows not a word of English. Long, long years ago, in becoming the wife of an Indian, and the mother of Indians, she became to all purposes one of themselves. She is a living relic of the American Revolution, as well as of the customs of the Mohawk Indians a hundred years ago.

In the first days of the rebellion, in an encounter between the Indians and a party of rebels in the Mohawk valley, one of the Indians, by the name of Green, was killed. The custom among the several tribes, or families, when one of their number had been lost in war, was to take the first captive they could, and adopt him or her, into the tribe, to keep up the number. A party of Indians, under John Green, a chief and brother of the one killed, called in after days Captain Green, in the course of their foray, caught a little girl about ten years of age. That little girl is the old person of whom we are speaking. The old woman yet recollects the fact that her father's family, on the approach of the Indians, made haste to escape; she by accident was left alone or behind. She remembers to have been running along the road, when she was taken. She says there were a good many Indians. After this there is a blank in her memory, until the period of the Indians leaving their homes to escape. This was the time when they buried their Communion Plate. Christian says she was carried upon an Indian's back, as they fled to Lachine. She recollects that they were staying three years at Lachine, when the tribe set out to take possession of the land which Government was to give them. It was about a year from the time they started from Lachine, until they, under Brant, reached their destination, the Grand River. Captain Green was with this party, and stayed with them at Grand River for six years, when, becoming dissatisfied, he, with his family, came to the Bay Quint. Christian remembers all this. She was living with Captain Green's sister. They came in a batteau, down the north shore of the lake, and crossed at the Carrying Place at the head of the bay.

Christian in time became the wife of an Indian, by the name of Anthony Smart, who, she says, has been dead now thirty-eight years. They had but one child, a daughter, who was married to Abram Maricle. They had three children, one being a son. Christian's daughter has been dead many years, but the old lady now is surrounded by grand-children to the third generation.

Some time after the close of the Revolution, a person by the name of Moore, came with his family to Canada, and settled at Napanee. By some means he learned that there was a white woman among the Mohawks, and he visited them to see if it might be his long lost daughter. Such proved to be the case. He was Christian's father. She remembers the occasion, (it was about forty-five years ago,) her father was then a very old man. Of course, there was no resemblance between the woman in Indian garb before him, and his little girl of ten years. But there was a mark upon her arm, the result of a burn by which he was enabled to recognize his own flesh and blood. The scar, upon the left forearm, can yet be distinctly seen. Painful, indeed, must have been the feelings of the parent, to know she was his daughter, and yet knew not a syllable of her mother tongue. The natural channel by which parental and filial affection might have flowed was sealed. She says, she has a sister now living back of Napanee. She asked her father if she had been christened, and he informed her she had been. Upon our asking her the question, if she ever went to school, she says, "No;" that she was "always working hard." Asking her the question, if she did not think she had lived a long while, she replied, "I don't think I'll live very long." The Rev. Mr. Anderson informs us that she has ever maintained the character of a true Christian, and is always happy to partake of the Holy Communion, Christian's great-grandson, himself a father, acted as interpreter.

It is possible that this woman, who belonged to another century, may live yet several years. There is much of vigor in her movements and conversation. Although shrivelled and bent almost double with age, her body seems to be well nourished, and her arms possess considerable thickness. She always enjoyed good health, and now eats and sleeps in the most comfortable manner.

We are informed by a recent letter from Rev. Mr. Anderson, 1869, that the old woman continues quite well, and works in the garden in summer.

Submitted by David A. Macaulay
Archivist of MACAULAY and related Families
Scotland to New England, and Beyond!