Writing and Literacy
And Mary accounts not just for goods and money but also for feelings—she interacts with accounting as both a numerical and an affective project, one meant to extract both money and gratitude from Indigenous people. A January 1767 letter from Samson suggests she find a “Capable Hand to write you Letters of thanks, to the Ladies who wrote you Letters, and sent you Preſents from Briſtol.”8 Perhaps Samson makes the suggestion that she find an amanuensis because Mary preferred not to write her own letters, or perhaps she was in haste as she was when she wrote to Wheelock, the letter shows that Mary must negotiate the forms of colonial accounting that involve measuring and accounting for thanks. Whether she found a “capable hand” or wrote letters herself, Samson’s letter points to the ways that she made strategic use of other peoples’ hands to settle her accounts.
For Mary, accounting extended to her transactions with Shaw and to expectations from Wheelock and British ladies, and these interactions illuminate her astute understanding of how accounts work, how she might use them to ensure accurate records, and how they might be used by colonists to exact both money and gratitude. Reading for both linguistic content and for such interactions not only brings into view Mary Occom’s various forms of literacy but also situates her as part of larger histories of literacy throughout the northeast. For example, Lisa Brooks’s work on Pocasset women like Weetamoo shows how they keenly observed how colonists used land deeds, noting the distance that often opened up between an agreement, a written record, and colonists’ actions in defiance of that agreement. We might also think of the young Pequot woman Katherine Garrett, who gave an account of her life that contested narratives of guilt and degradation before she was executed for alleged infanticide.9 These Native women maintain an understanding of how colonists used accounts, debts, exchange, and circulation, often to ends that were detrimental to Native communities and individuals. As Mary’s account shows, interventions in those ends were often small, quotidian acts that aimed to circulate alternate interpretations of and uses for accounts. Such literacies are hidden, not so much because of obscure archives or uncatalogued texts (Mary’s account with Shaw is catalogued as part of Samson Occom’s archive at Dartmouth and digitized as part of the Occom Circle Project), but because they involve forms of use and literacy that require new readerly practices to see them.