RED JACKET, OR SA-GO-YE-WAT-HA,
"THE KEEPER AWAKE"--THE INDIAN DEMOSTHENES--CHIEF OF
THE SENECAS.
The subject of this sketch was certainly the greatest orator of the Six
Nations, and it is doubtful if his equal was ever known among all the
American Indians. His birth is supposed to have taken place about the year
1750, under a great tree which formerly stood near the spring of water at
Canoga point on the west shore of Cayuga Lake, in Western New York.
His parents were of the Seneca tribe, the most western of the Iroquois
confederation, and lived at Can-e-de-sa-ga, a large Indian village on the
present site of Geneva.
At the time of his birth, owing to scarcity of game, his parents, with
others, were hunting on the west shore of Cayuga Lake. The locality has
been purchased by Judge Sackett, of Seneca Falls, who derived the statement
here quoted from the great orator himself. When interrogated about his
birthplace the sachem would answer, counting on his fingers as he spoke,
"One, two, three, four above John Harris," meaning four miles above where
Harris kept his ferry across the Cayuga, before the erection of the bridge.
The orator, whose eloquence was the pride of the race, and the special
glory of the Senecas, owed nothing to the advantages of illustrious
descent, but was of humble parentage. He was a Cayuga on his father's side,
and the Cayugas claim to have been a thoughtful and far-seeing people. The
fact of his possessing wonderful eloquence was never disputed at any time.
The name which Red Jacket received in his infancy was O-te-tiana, and
signified "Always Ready." According to the custom of his people, when he
became chief he took another--Sa-go-ye-wat-ha,--which means "The Keeper
Awake."
But little is known of his history until the campaign of Sullivan, when
Red Jacket must have been about twenty-nine years of age.
Tradition says that he was remarkably swift in the chase and possessed a
marvelous power of endurance. For these reasons, he was very successful in
hunting. On account of his fleetness he was often employed as a messenger
or "runner" by his people in his youth, and afterward in a like capacity by
the British officers during the Revolution.
According to Mr. Stone, the learned Indian biographist, Sa-go-ye-wat-ha
obtained the name of Red Jacket from the following circumstance: "During
the War of the Revolution he made himself very useful to the British
officers as a messenger. He was doubtless the more so because of his
intelligence and gift for oratory. In return for his services the officers
presented the young man with a scarlet jacket, very richly embroidered."
One can imagine the immense pride with which the "Young Prince of the Wolf
Clan," as his admiring people were accustomed to call him, donned this
brilliant garment. He took such delight in the jacket that he was kept in
such garments by the British officers during the Revolution. This peculiar
dress became a mark of distinction and gave him the name by which he was
afterward best known. Even after the war, when the Americans wished to find
a way to his heart, they clothed his back with a red jacket.
It has been almost the universal testimony of books that Red Jacket, the
Indian orator, like the two greatest of the ancient world, Demosthenes and
Cicero, was a coward. This inference has been drawn very naturally,
perhaps, from the fact that he generally, but not always, opposed war and
seldom wielded the tomahawk. But the old men of his nation, who knew him
best and the motives from which he acted, deny the charge. Many even
asserted that he was brave, though prudent, and not at all lacking in the
qualities they admire in a warrior. They assign other reasons for his
persistent opposition to war, and maintain that his superior sagacity led
him to see its consequences to the Indian.
{Illustration: Red Jacket, or Sa-Go-Ye-Wat-ha, "The Keeper Awake."
Celebrated Seneca Chief and Orator.}
In the Revolutionary contest the red men generally enlisted on the side of
the British, believing it to be for their interests. They could not
understand anything of the real nature of the controversy of the two rival
powers, and were justifiable in studying their own interest alone. In
taking the British side the Iroquois were strongly influenced by the
Johnsons, the Tory leaders of New York, and their powerful ally, Captain
Joseph Brant, the great war-chief of the Mohawks. But it was all done in
spite of the eloquent protest of Red Jacket. "Let them alone," said the
wise man and orator. "Let us remain upon our lands and take care of
ourselves. What have the English done for us?" he exclaimed, drawing his
proud form to its fullest height and pointing with the zeal of despair
toward the winding Mohawk, "that we should become homeless and helpless
wanderers for their sakes?"
But his motives were impugned and misunderstood. Some of his own warriors
called him a coward and promptly followed Cornplanter and Brant to battle.
These two chiefs seemed to have had a contempt for Red Jacket because of
his supposed cowardice. They nicknamed him _Cow-Killer,_ and often told
with much gusto a story at his expense. This story was to the effect that
at the commencement of the Revolutionary War, the young chief, with his
usual eloquence, exhorted the Indians to courage, and promised to be with
them in the thickest of the fight. When the battle came off, however, he
was missing, having stayed at home to cut up a cow which he had captured.
This story, with the speech just quoted in opposition to war, tended to
convince many of the Indians that the Seneca sachem was a coward.
But when the very things he prophesied literally happened, when in the
progress of the war, as we have recorded in the life of Brant, Sullivan's
army destroyed forty populous towns, with many orchards and fields of
golden grain; when the Senecas were driven further west, and the proud
Mohawks across the boundary into Canada, the deluded Indians saw that Red
Jacket, the sage, was a true prophet. Had they followed his advice all
would have been well, but they refused, and the Mohawks had "become
homeless and helpless wanderers" for the sake of the British, who cared
nothing for them when the war was over.
At the close of the Revolution, the influence of Red Jacket was restored;
for the reason that even his enemies had to concede that he was right, that
he opposed war not from cowardice, but because his sagacious mind could see
the end from the beginning, and he knew that in any case it must end
disastrously for the Indian. He is to be commended for acting with wisdom
and prudence. Another sage of old has said: "A prudent man foreseeth the
evil, and hideth himself; but the simple pass on and are punished."
No one accused Washington of cowardice, when he advised his countrymen to
keep neutral and make no entangling alliance with a foreign power. This, in
its last analysis, was about the same position taken by Red Jacket. Why,
then, should it be assumed that he was a coward?
But there are other positive proofs of Red Jacket's courage. On one
occasion the Mohawks challenged the Senecas to a game of ball. The
challenge was accepted, and a large number of the Iroquois had gathered to
witness the game.
Many valuable articles, such as ornaments, weapons, belts and furs were bet
on the result of the game. The stakes were placed under the care of a
company of aged Indians and the game was called. The ball was of deerskin;
the bats, or rackets, were woven with deerskin thongs. A certain number of
players were chosen upon each side. They were entirely nude except a
breech-cloth about their loins. Each party had a gate, or two poles,
planted in the ground about three rods apart. The aim of the players on
each side was to drive the ball through their own gate a specified number
of times. It took several contests to decide the match. The players,
provided with bats, were ranged in opposite lines, and between them stood
two picked players, one from either side, who were expected to start the
game. Sometimes a pretty Indian girl, very gayly dressed and decked with
silver ornaments, ran between the lines until she reached the two leaders
in the center, when she would drop the ball between them. The instant it
touched the ground each of the two Indians would make a struggle to start
the ball toward his own gate.
It was a rule of the game that the ball must not be touched by foot or
hand. But a player might strike it with, or catch it on, his racket and run
with it to the goal, if he could. But the opposite side would have men
stationed to guard against such easy success. A fierce struggle for the
possession of the ball was continually in progress, and players were
frequently hurt, sometimes severely. It was usually taken in good part, but
at this particular game a Mohawk player struck a Seneca a hard blow with
his bat. Instantly the Senecas dropped their bats, took up the stakes that
they had laid down in betting, and returned to their own country. Three
weeks after Red Jacket and some other chiefs sent a belligerent message to
the Mohawks demanding satisfaction for the insult. Brant immediately called
a council of his people, and it was decided to recommend a friendly council
of both nations to settle the difference. The Senecas consented to this,
and the council met. Red Jacket was opposed to a reconciliation. He made a
stirring speech, in which he pictured the offense in its blackest light,
and was in favor of nothing less than war. But the older Senecas, and among
them Cornplanter, who had not yet lost his influence, were opposed to a
break between the two nations, and proposed that presents should be made in
atonement to the young man who had been injured. The Mohawks consented to
this, and the pipe of peace was finally smoked in friendship.
Now, remember, it was Red Jacket who sent the belligerent message to the
Mohawks, demanding satisfaction for the injury to the young man, and insult
to his tribe. He it was who favored _war,_ as the only way in which it
could be wiped out. In the event of hostilities, he well knew that he and
his tribe would be arrayed against the terrible Mohawks, under the command
of their great war-chief, Captain Brant, whose name was a terror to white
and red foe alike. There was certainly no evidence of cowardice in this
transaction.
A treaty was made with the Six Nations on the part of the United States at
Fort Stanwix, in 1784. General Lafayette was present at this council, and
was struck with the eloquence of Red Jacket. The war-chief of the Senecas,
Cornplanter, was in favor of peace, while Red Jacket, who was called a
coward, used all his eloquence in favor of war.
There are only two ways to account for his action at this time. Either he
was a courageous leader, or else he believed the war policy would be the
most popular, at least with the Senecas. Red Jacket and the Senecas also
took part in the war of 1812. As early as 1810 the orator gave information
to the Indian agent of attempts made by Tecumseh, the Prophet, and others,
to draw his nation into the great Western combination; but the war of 1812
had scarcely commenced, when the Senecas volunteered their services to
their American neighbors. For some time these were rejected, and every
exertion was made to induce them to remain neutral. The Indians bore the
restraint with an ill grace, but said nothing. At length, in the summer of
1812, the English unadvisedly took possession of Grand Island, in the
Niagara River, a valuable territory of the Senecas. This was too much for
the pride of such men as Red Jacket and Farmer's Brother. A council was
called immediately--the American agent was summoned to attend--and the
orator arose and thus addressed him:
"Brother!" said he, after stating the information received, "you have told
us we had nothing to do with the war between you and the British. But the
war has come to our doors. Our property is seized upon by the British and
their Indian friends. It is necessary for us, then, to take up this
business. We must defend our property; we must drive the enemy from our
soil. If we sit still on our lands, and take no means of redress, the
British, following the customs of you white people, _will hold them by
conquest;_ and you, if you conquer Canada, will claim them on the same
principles, as conquered _from the British._ Brother, we wish to go with
our warriors and drive off these bad people, and take possession of those
lands."
The effect of this reasonable declaration, and especially of the manner in
which it was made, was such as might be expected. A grand council of the
Six Nations came together, and a manifesto, of which the following is a
literal translation, according to Thatcher, was issued against the British
in Canada, and signed by all the grand councilors of the Confederation:
"We, the chiefs and councilors of the Six Nations of Indians, residing in
the State of New York, do hereby proclaim to all the war-chiefs and
warriors of the Six Nations, that war is declared on our part against the
provinces of Upper and Lower Canada. Therefore, we do hereby command and
advise all the war-chiefs to call forth immediately the warriors under
them, and put them in motion to protect their rights and liberties, which
our brethren, the Americans, are now defending."
We regret that no speech of Red Jacket on this memorable occasion is
preserved. But his eloquence, and that of his brother chiefs, must have
inspired the warriors to great zeal and courage for although the
declaration was made quite late in 1812, we find quite a number of them in
the battle near Fort George. An official account of this action was given
by General Boyd, under date of August 13. The enemy were completely routed,
and a number of British Indians (Mohawks) were captured by our allies.
"Those," continued the general in his report, "who participated in this
contest, _particularly the Indians,_ conducted with great bravery and
activity. General Porter volunteered in the affair, and Major Chapin
evinced his accustomed zeal and courage. The regulars under Major Cummings,
as far as they were engaged, conducted well. The principal chiefs who led
the warriors this day were Farmer's Brother, Red Jacket, Little Billy,
Pollard, Black Snake, Johnson, Silver Heels, Captain Halftown, Major Henry
0. Ball (Cornplanter's son) and Captain Cold, who was wounded. In a council
which was held with them yesterday, they covenanted not to scalp or murder,
and I am happy to say that they treated the prisoners with humanity,
committed no wanton cruelties on the dead, but obeyed orders, and behaved
in a soldier-like manner."
Thatcher says: "We believe all the chiefs here mentioned were Senecas
except Captain Cold." In his next bulletin, the General reports, "The
bravery and humanity of the Indians were equally conspicuous." Another
authority quoted in Nile's "Register" says, "They behaved with great
gallantry and betrayed no disposition to violate the restrictions which
Boyd had imposed."
"These restrictions," as Thatcher says, "it should be observed in justice
to Red Jacket and his brave comrades, had been previously agreed upon at
the grand council, and the former probably felt no humiliation in departing
in this particular from the usual savagery of his warriors. We have met
with no authentic charges against him, either of cruelty or cowardice, and
it is well known that he took part in a number of sharply contested
engagements."
Is not all this a complete vindication of Red Jacket's courage?
Of the boyhood of this great sachem we know nothing. Like many another he
owed his celebrity to the troublous times in which he lived. The powers of
the orator can only be exhibited on occasions of great interest; and the
mighty intellect of Red Jacket could not have exercised itself upon
theology, philosophy, or law, for the Indian was a stranger to all these
things. He was, however, a natural logician, and had gifts which, in a
white man, would have insured success as a lawyer. One of the first
forensic efforts of the young chief was in behalf of the women of his
people, who, among the Iroquois, were permitted to exert their influence in
all public and important matters. And to this extent, the Six Nations of
this period were more civilized than many of the _white_ nations of the
_twentieth century, including our own._
In the year 1791, when Washington wished to secure the neutrality of the
Six Nations, a deputation was sent to treat with them, but was not
favorably received, as many of the young chiefs were for war and sided with
the British. The women, as is usual, preferred peace, and argued that the
land was theirs, for they cultivated and took care of it, and, therefore,
had a right to speak concerning the use that should be made of its
products. They demanded to be heard on this occasion, and addressed the
deputation first themselves in the following words:
"Brother:--The Great Ruler has spared us until another day to talk
together; for since you came here from General Washington, you and our
uncles, the sachems, have been counseling together. Moreover, your sisters,
the women, have taken the same into great consideration, because you and
our sachems have said so much about it. Now, that is the reason we have
come to say something to you, and to tell you that the Great Ruler hath
preserved you, and that you ought to hear and listen to what we women shall
speak, as well as the sachems; _for we are the owners of this land,_ AND
IT IS OURS! It is we that plant it for our and their use. Hear us,
therefore, for we speak things that concern us and our children; and you
must not think hard of us while our men shall say more to you, for we have
told them."
They then designated Red Jacket as their speaker, and he took up the speech
of his clients as follows:
"Brothers from Pennsylvania: You that are sent from General Washington and
by the thirteen fires you have been sitting side by side with us every day,
and the Great Ruler has appointed us another pleasant day to meet again.
"Now, listen, brothers; you know it has been the request of our head
warriors, that we are left to answer for our women who are to conclude what
ought to be done by both sachems and warriors. So hear what is their
conclusion. The business you come on is very troublesome, and we have been
a long time considering it; and now the elder of our women have said that
our sachems and warriors must _help you,_ for the good of them and their
children, and you tell us the Americans are strong for peace.
"Now, all that has been done for you has been done by our women; the rest
will be a hard task for us; for the people at the setting sun are bad
people, and you have come in too much haste for such great matters of
importance. And now, brothers, you must look when it is light in the
morning, until the setting sun, and you must reach your neck over the land
to take in all the light you can to show the danger. And these are the
words of our women to you, and the sachems and warriors who shall go with
you.
"Now, brothers from Pennsylvania and from General Washington, I have told
you all I was directed. Make your minds easy, and let us throw all care on
the mercy of the Great Keeper, in hopes that he will assist us."
"So," as Minnie Myrtle says, "there was peace instead of war, as there
would often be if the voice of women could be heard! and though the
Senecas, in revising their laws and customs, have in a measure acceded to
the civilized barbarism of treating the opinions of women with contempt,
where their interest is equal, they still cannot sign a treaty without the
consent of _two-thirds of the mothers!_"
On another occasion the women sent a message, which Red Jacket delivered
for them, saying that they fully concurred in the opinion of their sachems,
that the white people had been the cause of all the Indians' distresses.
The white people had pressed and squeezed them together, until it gave them
great pain at their hearts. One of the white women had told the Indians to
repent; and they now, in turn, called on the white people to repent--they
having as much need of repentance as the Indians. They, therefore, hoped
the pale-faces would repent and wrong the Indians no more, but give back
the lands they had taken.
At the termination of the Revolution, the Indians who were the allies of
the English were left to take care of themselves as best they could. Though
they had fought desperately in their own way, and inflicted every species
of suffering on our people, Washington extended to them the hand of
friendship and offered them protection. His kindness won him the gratitude
of the Indians. He undoubtedly filled a place in their affections never
occupied by any other white man, save Roger Williams, or William Penn. His
influence over the Indians helps to explain the fact that in all subsequent
wars the Senecas were either neutral or loyal to the Americans; proof that
the "Father of His Country" was also revered by his red children.
{Illustration: Massacre at Wyoming.}
Red Jacket was one of fifty chiefs who visited President Washington at
Philadelphia, then the seat of government, in 1792. While there the
President presented him with a silver medal, on which Washington, in
military uniform, was represented as handing a long peace-pipe to an Indian
chief with a scalp lock decorated with plumes on the top of his head, while
a white man was plowing with a yoke of oxen in the background. This last
figure was probably intended as a hint for the Indians to abandon war and
the chase, and adopt the peaceful pursuits of agriculture. On the reverse
side was the eagle, and motto of our country, "_E Pluribus Unum._" Indians
prefer ornaments of silver to those of gold, for they are more becoming to
their red skin. Red Jacket prized this medal very highly. He wore it on all
state occasions. Nevertheless, sad to relate, it is stated that the beloved
medal was more than once in pawn for whisky.
The medal in question was quite large. The exact dimensions were seven
inches long, by five broad. The last heard of the medal was in 1867, when
it was in possession of Brigadier-General Parker, of Grant's staff, who was
at that time chief sachem of the Six Nations.
While in Philadelphia, each member of the deputation of chiefs received
from General Knox, on the part of the Government, a military uniform such,
as was worn by the officers, together with a cocked hat. When Red Jacket's
suit was offered him he sent back word to General Knox that he could not
consistently wear such a garb, as he was not a war-chief, and requested
that a different suit might be given him, more suitable to his station. But
when the plain suit was brought to him, he declined giving up the
regimentals, coolly remarking that though as a sachem he could not wear a
military uniform in time of peace, yet in time of war the sachem joined the
warriors, and he would therefore keep it till war broke out, when he could
assume a military dress with propriety.
On one occasion, being invited with several of his people to dine at the
home of an officer, he ate very heartily of several kinds of meat; and
seeing the surprise of the host, he remarked that he belonged to the Wolf
Clan, and "wolves were always fond of meat."
About the year 1790, a council was held on the shore of Lake Canandaigua to
negotiate a purchase of land from the Indians. After two days spent in
discussing the terms, a treaty was agreed upon, and only wanted the
formality of a signature to make it complete, when Red Jacket, who had not
yet been heard, arose to speak. An eye-witness thus describes the scene:
"With the grace and dignity of a Roman Senator, he drew his blanket around
him, and with a piercing eye surveyed the multitude. All was hushed;
nothing interposed to break the silence, save the gentle rustle of the
tree-tops, under whose shade they were gathered. After a long and solemn,
but not unmeaning pause, he commenced his speech in a low voice and
sententious style. Rising gradually with the subject, he depicted the
primitive simplicity and happiness of his nation, and the wrongs they had
sustained from the usurpations of white men, with such bold but faithful
eloquence that every auditor was soon roused to vengeance or melted into
tears. The effect was inexpressible. But ere the emotions of admiration and
sympathy had subsided, the white men became alarmed. They were in the heart
of an Indian country, surrounded by more than ten times their number, who
were inflamed by the remembrance of their injuries and excited to
indignation by the eloquence of a favorite chief. Appalled and terrified,
the white men cast a cheerless gaze upon the hordes around them. A nod from
the chiefs might be the onset of destruction. At this portentous moment,
Farmer's Brother interposed. He replied not to his brother chief, but with
sagacity truly aboriginal, he caused a cessation of the council, introduced
good cheer, commended the eloquence of Red Jacket, and before the meeting
had reassembled, with the aid of other prudent chiefs, he had moderated the
fury of his nation to a more salutary view of the question before them."
The fame of his great eloquence gained Red Jacket a powerful influence, not
only in his own tribe but among all the Six Nations of Indians. "I am an
orator; I was born an orator," was his boastful declaration; and to all
future generations his name will descend enrolled on the list with
Demosthenes and Cicero in ancient, and Pitt, Henry or Webster in modern
times; and though a Pagan and belonging to a rude, uncultured race, his
vices were no greater than those of men who lived all their lives under
Christian influences. He strenuously opposed every effort to introduce
Christianity among his people, for he could not understand how it could be
so valuable or necessary, when he saw how little it influenced the conduct
of white men and the wrongs they inflicted in the name of their God upon
the red man. He could not make the distinction between those who possessed
religion and those who merely _professed_ it; and as he came in contact
with very few who walked uprightly, he naturally concluded that a religion
which did no more for its followers was not worth adopting. He believed the
Great Spirit had formed the red and white man distinct; that they could no
more be of one creed than one color; and when the wars were over and there
was nothing more for them to do, he wished his people to be separated
entirely from white men, and return as much as possible to their old
customs.
He saw his people wasting away before the pale-faces; as he once said in a
speech before a great assemblage: "We stand a small island in the bosom of
the great waters. We are encircled--we are encompassed. The Evil Spirit
rides upon the blast, and the waters are disturbed. They rise, they press
upon us, and the waves once settled over us, we disappear for ever. Who,
then, lives to mourn us? None! What prevents our extermination? Nothing! We
are mingled with the common elements."
From all accounts, the first missionaries sent among the Senecas were not
very judicious, and did not take the wisest course to make their religion
acceptable to any people, and especially to a wronged and outraged race. In
1805 a young missionary by the name of Cram was sent into the country of
the Six Nations. A council was called to consider whether to receive him,
and after he had made an introductory speech, Red Jacket made the following
reply:
"Friend and Brother: It was the will of the Great Spirit that we should
meet together this day. He orders all things, and has given us a fine day
for our council. He has taken his garment from before the sun and caused it
to shine with brightness upon us. For all these things we thank the Great
Ruler, and Him _only!_
"Brother, this council-fire was kindled by you. It was, at your request
that we came together at this time. We have listened with joy to what you
have said. You requested us to speak our minds freely. This gives us great
joy, for we now consider that we stand upright before you and can speak
what we think. All have heard your voice and can speak to you as one man.
Our minds are agreed.
"Brother, listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers
owned this great island. Their seats extended from the rising to the
setting sun. The Great Spirit had made it for the use of Indians. He had
created the buffalo, the deer and other animals for food. He had made the
bear and the beaver. Their skins served us for clothing. He had scattered
them over the country and taught us how to take them. He had caused the
earth to produce corn for bread. All this he had done for his red children
because he loved them. If we had some disputes about our hunting-ground,
they were generally settled without the shedding of much blood. But an evil
day came upon us. Your forefathers crossed the great water and landed upon
this island. Their numbers were small. They found us friends and not
enemies. They told us they had fled from their own country on account of
wicked men, and had come here to enjoy their religion. They asked for a
small seat. We took pity on them and granted their request, and they sat
down amongst us. We gave them corn and meat; they gave us poison (rum) in
return.
"The white people, brother, had now found our country. Tidings were carried
back, and more came amongst us. Yet we did not fear them. We took them to
be friends. They called us brothers; we believed them, and gave them a
larger seat. At length their numbers had greatly increased. They wanted
more land; they wanted our country. Our eyes were opened, and our minds
became uneasy. Wars took place. Indians were hired to fight against
Indians, and many of our people were destroyed. They also brought strong
liquor amongst us. It was strong and powerful and has slain thousands.
"Brother, our seats were once large, and yours were small. You have now
become a great people, and we have scarcely a place left to spread our
blankets. You have got our country, but are not satisfied you want to force
your religion upon us.
"Brother, continue to listen. You say that you are sent to instruct us how
to worship the Great Spirit agreeable to his mind; and if we do not take
hold of the religion which you white people teach, we shall be unhappy
hereafter. You say that you are right, and we are lost. How do we know this
to be true? We understand that your religion is written in a book. If it
was intended for us as well as you, why has not the Great Spirit given to
us--and not only to us, but to our forefathers--the knowledge of that book,
with the means of understanding it rightly? We only know what you tell us
about it. How shall we know when to believe, being so often deceived by the
white people?
"Brother, you say there is but one way to worship and serve the Great
Spirit. If there is but one religion, why do you white people differ so
much about it? Why not all agree, as you can all read the book?
"Brother, we do not understand these things. We are told that your religion
was given to your forefathers, and has been handed down from father to son.
We, also, have a religion which was given to our forefathers, and has been
handed down to us, their children. We worship in that way. It teaches us
to be thankful for all the favors we receive; to love each other, and be
united. We never quarrel about religion, because it is a matter which
concerns each man and the Great Spirit.
"Brother, we do not wish to destroy your religion or take it from you; we
only want to enjoy our own.
"Brother, we have been told that you have been preaching to the white
people in this place. These people are our neighbors. We are acquainted
with them. We will wait a little while and see what effect your preaching
has upon them. If we find it does them good, makes them honest and less
disposed to cheat Indians, we will consider again of what you have said.
"Brother, you have now heard our talk, and this is all we have to say at
present. As we are going to part, we will come and take you by the hand,
and hope the Great Spirit will protect you on your journey, and return you
safely to your friends."
According to the suggestion of their orator, the Indians moved forward to
shake hands with the missionary; but he refused, saying, "There was no
fellowship between the religion of God and the Devil." Yet the Indians
smiled and retired peacefully.
At another time Red Jacket said, referring to this same unwise missionary:
"The white people were not content with the wrongs they had done his
people, but wanted to cram their doctrines down their throats."
The great chief could never be induced to look upon Christianity with
favor. But it was the _pagan white people,_ with whom he came in contact,
who poisoned his mind, and prejudiced him against the missionaries and
their religion. They, knowing that the missionaries were the true friends
of the Indian, and understood their own evil machinations, wished to banish
them from the reservations.
Red Jacket lost ten or eleven children by consumption, the grim destroyer
of so many of all races. A lady once asked him whether he had any children
living. "Red Jacket was once a great man, and in favor with the Great
Spirit," sorrowfully answered the chief. "He was a lofty pine among the
smaller trees of the forest; but after years of glory he degraded himself
by drinking the fire-water of the white man. The Great Spirit has looked
upon him in anger and his lightning has stripped the pine of its branches,
and left standing only the scarred trunk dead at the top."
Had he hated the white men sufficiently to resist their temptations, he
might have been the glory and the savior of his people. The word which in
Seneca is used to express strong drink very truly and emphatically
describes it as "the mind destroyer." This was its office, and if the noble
mind of Red Jacket had not been partly destroyed by its agency, he would
have seen clearly through the dark plots of his enemies, and been able to
counter-plot to their destruction and thus rescued his people from the
grasp of their pursuers.
We find no evidence that he was addicted to any other debasing vice except
intemperance, while his life exemplified many ennobling virtues. He had an
intuitive perception of propriety, as was observed by an incident which
occurred while a white gentleman was traveling with a party of Indian
chiefs and their interpreter. Red Jacket was one of the party, but he was
uniformly grave. The others were much inclined to merriment, and during an
evening, when they were gathered around the fire in a log cabin, the mirth
was so great and the conversation so jocular, that Red Jacket was afraid
the stranger, who could not understand their language, would think himself
treated with impoliteness, and infer that their sport was at his expense.
He evidently enjoyed their happiness, though he took no part, but after a
while he spoke to Mr. Parish, the interpreter, and requested him to repeat
a few words to Mr. Hospres, which were as follows: "We have been made
uncomfortable by the storm; we are now warm and comfortable; it has caused
us to feel cheerful and merry; but I hope our friend who is traveling with
us will not be hurt at this merriment, or suppose that we are taking
advantage of his ignorance of our language to make him in any manner the
subject of mirth." On being assured that no such suspicion could be
entertained of the honorable men who were present, they resumed their mirth
and Red Jacket his gravity.
When Lafayette visited Buffalo in 1825, among those who thronged to pay
their respects was Red Jacket. When the chief was introduced to Lafayette
he said: "Do you remember being at the treaty of peace with the Six Nations
at Fort Stanwix?" "Yes," answered the general, "I have not forgotten that
great council. By the way, what has become of that young chief who opposed
so eloquently the burying of the tomahawk?" "He is before you," said Red
Jacket.
"Time has worked great changes upon us both," said Lafayette, "Ah," replied
the chief, "time has not been so severe upon you as it has upon me. It has
left you a fresh countenance and hair to cover your head; while to
me--behold!" The chief pulled a handkerchief from his head and disclosed
its baldness. But Lafayette did not leave him to think thus harshly of time
but proved to him that the ravages had been nearly the same upon both, by
removing a wig and exposing a head almost as bald as the chief's; upon
which he remarked, with much pleasantry, that a scalp from some bystander
would renew his youth in the same manner!
Red Jacket pretended to understand no language but his own, and entertained
a great dislike for English. He would not reply to any of Lafayette's
questions until his interpreter had translated them into Seneca. Levasseur
states that in his conference with Lafayette, he evidently comprehended
everything uttered in his presence, while he would speak only Indian; and
that his former high opinion of the general seemed to be much increased by
a few chance-medley Seneca words, which the latter had the good fortune to
remember, and the courtesy to repeat.
Thatcher informs us that on another occasion the notorious fanatic, Jemima
Wilkenson, while trying to make proselytes, invited the Senecas to a
conference. This strange woman professed to be the world's Savior at his
second appearance upon earth, and was then living in fine style in the
western part of New York State with her dupes. Red Jacket attended the
council with his people and listened patiently to the end of a long
address. Most of it he probably understood, but instead of replying to her
argument in detail, he laid the axe at the root of her authority. Having
risen very gravely and spoken a few words in Seneca, he noticed her
inquire what he was talking about? "Ha!" He exclaimed with an arch
look--"she inspired--she Jesus Christ--and not know _indian?_" The solidity
of her pretensions was at once decided adversely, in the minds of at least
the heathen part of her audience.
{Illustration: Corn Planter, Ki-On-Twog-Ky, Seneca Chief.}
The gifted sachem on one occasion used the following figurative language,
in speaking of the enchroachments of the white people:
"We first knew you a feeble plant which wanted a little earth whereon to
grow. We gave it you and afterward, when we could have trod you under our
feet, we watered and protected you; and now you have grown to be a mighty
tree, whose top reaches the clouds, and whose branches overspread the whole
land, whilst we, who were the tall pine of the forest, have become a feeble
plant and need your protection.
"When you first came here, you clung around our knee and called us
_father;_ we took you by the hand and called you brothers. You have grown
greater than we, so that we can no longer reach up to your hand; but we
wish to cling around your knee and be called your children." Is not this at
once beautiful and pathetic?
But Sa-go-ye-wat-ha could be sarcastic, as well as pathetic; in fact he ran
the whole gamut, and was deficient in nothing essential to eloquence.
Minnie Myrtle, in her book. "The Iroquois," relates the following incident:
"A young French nobleman visited Buffalo on one occasion, and having heard
much of the fame of Red Jacket, sent him word that he wished to see him,
and invited him to come the next day. Red Jacket received the message, and
affected great contempt, saying: 'Tell the _young man_ if he wishes to
visit the old chief he will find him with his nation, where other strangers
pay their respects to him, and Red Jacket will be glad to see him.' The
count sent back word that he had taken a long journey and was fatigued;
that he had come all the way from France to see the great orator of the
Seneca nation, and hoped he would not refuse to meet him at Buffalo. 'Tell
him,' said the sarcastic chief, 'that, having come so far to see me, it is
strange he should stop within seven miles of my lodge.' So the young
Frenchman was obliged to seek him in his wigwam; after which he consented
to dine with the count at Buffalo, and was pronounced by him a greater
wonder than Niagara Falls itself."
On another occasion he was visited by a gentleman who talked incessantly
and to little purpose, and who would go very near the person he was
addressing and chatter about as intelligibly as a magpie. Red Jacket,
receiving the message that a stranger wished to see him, dressed himself
with great care, and came forth in all his dignity. One glance of his keen
eye was sufficient for him to understand the character of his guest, and
listening a few moments with contempt in all his features, he then went
close to him and exclaimed, "Cha! cha! cha!" as fast as he could speak, and
turned on his heel to his own cabin "as straight as an Indian," nor deigned
to look behind him while in sight of the house occupied by the loquacious
stranger, who stood for once speechless!
Like other great orators, he had his full share of vanity. He was fully
aware of his importance, and disposed to make others aware of it. Colonel
Pickering was often employed by the government to negotiate treaties, and
would take down the speeches on the occasion in writing. At one time, when
Red Jacket was the orator, he thought he would note the words of the
interpreter whilst the chief was himself speaking. He immediately paused,
and on being requested to proceed, said, "No, not whilst you hold down your
head." "Why can you not speak whilst I write?" "Because, if you look me in
the eye, you can tell whether I tell you the truth."
At another time he turned his head to speak to a third person, when Red
Jacket very haughtily rebuked him, saying, "When a Seneca speaks he ought
to be listened to with attention from one end of this great island to the
other."
When he returned from Philadelphia, he was in the habit of using his
oratorical powers to embellish the manner of his reception, and would
collect around him the chiefs and people of his nation, and, dressed in his
uniform, with the cocked hat under his arm, would personify the President,
and bow to all present as if they were the company in the great saloon,
imitating the manners and gestures of the original with true grace and
dignity, and then entertain his audience with the compliments and
attentions which had been bestowed upon him.
When invited to dine or be present at any social function among white
people, he conformed with wonderful tact to the customs to which he was a
stranger, never manifesting any surprise or asking any questions till he
could consult some friend whose ridicule he did not fear. He once told a
gentleman that when he dined with President Washington, a man ran off with
his knife and fork every now and then and returned with others. "Now," said
Red Jacket, "what was that for?"
The gentleman told him that there were a great many kinds of dishes, each
cooked in a different manner, and that the plates, knives and forks were
changed every time a new dish was brought on.
"Ah," said Red Jacket thoughtfully, "is that it? You must then suppose that
the plates and knives and forks retain the taste of the cookery?" "Yes."
"Have you then," demanded the chief, "any method by which you can change
your palates every time you change your plate? For I think the taste would
remain on the palate longer than it would on the plate."
"We are in the habit of washing that away by drinking wine," answered the
gentleman.
"Ah," said Red Jacket, "now I understand it. I was persuaded that so
general a custom among you must be founded in reason, and I only regret
that when I was in Philadelphia I did not understand it. The moment the man
went off with my plate I would have drunk wine until he brought me another;
for although I am fond of eating, I am more so of drinking."
Red Jacket was extremely fond of sugar. He was once at the table of Captain
Jones, the interpreter. Mrs. Jones handed him his coffee without sugar, for
a joke.
"My son," said the chief, looking at the captain severely, "do you allow
your squaw thus to trifle with your father?" The children giggled. "And do
you allow your children to make sport of their chief?" added Red Jacket.
Apologies were made and the sugar-bowl was handed to the offended chief. He
filled his cup to the brim with sugar and ate it out by the spoonful with
the utmost gravity.
Eggleston informs us that, "Red Jacket could see no justice in the white
man's court of law. An Indian who had broken in to a house and stolen some
small article of value was indicted for burglary. Red Jacket made a long
speech in court in his defense. But the Indian was sentenced to
imprisonment for life, much to the orator's disgust. After the proceedings
were over Red Jacket left the courthouse in company with the lawyers.
Across the street was the sign of a printing-office with the arms of the
State, representing Liberty and Justice. Red Jacket stopped and pointed to
the sign.
"What him call?" demanded the chief.
"Liberty," answered the bystanders.
"Ugh!" said the sachem.
"What him call?" pointing to the other figure upon the sign.
"Justice," was the answer.
"Where him live now?" inquired the chief.
Red Jacket was one day met going the opposite direction from an execution
to which everybody was crowding. He was asked why he, too, did not go.
"Fools enough there already. Battle is the place to see men die," he
answered.
Although fond of good things, Red Jacket had a great contempt for a
sensualist. When asked his opinion of a chief appropriately named Hot
Bread, who was known to be indolent and gluttonous, he exclaimed, "Waugh!
big man here (laying his hand upon his abdomen), but very small man here,"
bringing the palm of his hand with significant emphasis across his
forehead.
For a long time the great chief refused to sit for his portrait, though
often importuned. "When Red Jacket dies," he would say, "all that belongs
to him shall die too." But at length an appeal to his vanity availed, and
on being assured that his picture was wanted to hang with those of
Washington and Jefferson, and other great men in the National Galleries, he
consented; and having once broken his resolution, no longer resisted, and
was painted by several artists. The one by Weir is considered best, and was
taken during a visit of the chief to New York, in 1828, at the request of
Dr. Francis. He dressed himself with great care in the costume he thought
most becoming and appropriate, decorated with his brilliant war-dress, his
tomahawk, and Washington medal. He then seated himself in a large
arm-chair, while around him groups of Indians were reclining upon the
floor. He was more than seventy years of age at the time, but tall, erect
and firm, though with many of the traces of time and dissipation upon his
form and countenance. He manifested great pleasure as the outlines of the
picture were filled up, and especially when his favorite medal came out in
full relief; and when the picture was finished, started to his feet and
clasped the hand of the artist, exclaiming, "Good! good!"
One who knew him remarks, "That his characteristics are preserved to
admiration, and his majestic front exhibits an attitude surpassing every
other I have ever seen of the human skull."
Mr. Stone, in his "Life of Red Jacket," gives an account of an interview
between that chief and Rev. Dr. Breckenridge, which took place at the
residence of General Porter, Black Rock, New York, in 1821.
General Porter's wife was a sister to Dr. Breckenridge, and he was visiting
them at the time. Several chiefs, including Red Jacket, were invited to
dine with the general and meet his kinsmen.
"On the appointed day," wrote Dr. Breckenridge, "they made their appearance
in due form, headed by Red Jacket, to the number of eight or ten besides
himself. He wore a blue dress, the upper garment cut after the fashion of a
hunting shirt, with blue leggings, a red jacket and a girdle of red about
his waist. I have seldom seen a more dignified or noble looking body of men
than the entire group.
"After the introduction was over, and the object of their invitation
stated, Red Jacket turned to me familiarly and asked: 'What are you? You
say you are not a government agent; are you a gambler (meaning a land
speculator), or a black-coat (clergyman), or what are you?'
"I answered, 'I am yet too young a man to engage in any profession; but I
hope some of these days to be a black-coat.'
"He lifted up his hands, accompanied by his eyes, in a most expressive way;
and though not a word was uttered, every one fully understood that he very
distinctly expressed the sentiment, 'What a fool!' I commanded my
countenance and seeming not to have observed him, proceeded to tell him
something of our colleges and other institutions."
It was during this interview that the objects of speculators were so
explained to him that he understood their evil designs; and the true nature
of the missionary enterprise was made clear to his comprehension, so that
his enmity was never afterward so bitter. When assured that by the course
he was pursuing, he was doing more than any one else to break up and drive
away his people, and that the effect of the teachings of the missionaries
was to preserve them, he grasped the hand of the speaker and said: "If this
is so it is new to me, and I will lay it up in my mind," pointing to his
noble forehead, "and talk of it to the chiefs and the people."
Dr. Breckenridge continues: "Red Jacket was about sixty years old at this
time, and had a weather-beaten look, which age, and more than all,
intemperance, had produced; but his general appearance was striking, and
his face noble. His lofty and capacious forehead, his piercing black eye,
his gently curved lips, fine cheek and slightly aquiline nose--all marked
a great man; and as sustained and expressed by his dignified air, made a
deep impression on all who saw him. All these features became doubly
expressive, when his mind and body were set in motion by the effort of
speaking--if effort that may be called which flowed like a stream from his
lips. I saw him in the wane of life, and heard him only in private, and
through a stupid and careless interpreter. Yet, notwithstanding these
disadvantages, he was one of the greatest and most eloquent orators I ever
knew. His cadence was measured, and yet very musical; and when excited he
would spring to his feet, elevate his head, expand his arms and utter with
indescribable effect of manner and tone, some of his noblest thoughts."
General Porter speaks of him as a man endowed with great intellectual
powers, and who, as an orator, was not only unsurpassed, but unequaled by
any of his contemporaries. Although those who were ignorant of his language
could not fully appreciate the force and beauty of his speeches, when
received through the medium of an interpreter--generally coarse and
clumsy--yet such was the peculiar gracefulness of his person, attitudes and
action, and the mellow tones of his Seneca dialect, and such the
astonishing effects produced on that part of the auditory who did fully
understand him, and whose souls appeared to be engrossed and borne away by
the orator, that he was listened to by all with perfect delight. His
figures were frequently so sublime, so apposite and so beautiful that the
interpreter often said the English language was not rich enough to allow of
doing him justice.
Another gentleman says: "It is evident that the best translations of Indian
speeches must fail to express the beauty and sublimity of the
originals--especially of such an original as Red Jacket. It has been my
good fortune to hear him a few times, but only in late years, when his
powers were enfeebled by age and intemperance; but I shall never forget the
impression made on me the first time I saw him in council. The English
language has no figures to convey the true meaning of the original, but
though coming through the medium of an illiterate interpreter, I saw the
dismembered parts of a splendid oration."
Through the machinations of his great rival, Cornplanter, Red Jacket was
once accused of being a wizard, and actually tried for witchcraft. Very
likely he was accused of spitting fire at night or some other wizard's
performance. At any rate Red Jacket arose and made his own defense.
Eggleston says: "For three hours he spoke with the most wonderful
eloquence, moving the Indians in spite of themselves. They were divided. A
bare majority was in favor of Red Jacket and his life was saved." We
question whether his life was actually in any danger, even had the decision
gone against him, for the reason that Red Jacket had a great many white
friends, and they would certainly have interfered in his behalf, as they
did in the case of other Indians of less prominence accused of witchcraft
at the same time.
Near the close of his life Red Jacket was formally deposed by twenty-six
chiefs of his tribe. This was due partly to the jealousy of rival chiefs,
but mainly because of his opposition to the Christian party, and on account
of his intemperate habits.
But Red Jacket was not yet prepared to submit patiently to such
degradation, especially when he knew so well the true motives of those who
effected it. Nor was he by any means so much under the control of his bad
habits as not to feel occasionally, perhaps generally, both the
consciousness of his power and the sting of shame. "It shall not be said of
me" thought the old orator, with a gleam of a fiery soul in his eye--"It
shall not be said that Sa-go-ye-wat-ha lived in insignificance and died in
dishonor. Am I too feeble to avenge myself of my enemies? Am I not as I
have been?" In fine, he roused himself to a great effort. Representations
were made to the neighboring tribes--for he knew too well the hopelessness
of a movement confined to his own--and only a month had elapsed since his
deposition, when a grand council of the chiefs of the Six Nations assembled
together at the upper council-house of the Seneca village reservation.
The document of the Christian party was read, and then Half-Town rose,
and, in behalf of the Seneca Indians, said there was but one voice in his
nation, among the common people, and that was of general indignation at
contumely cast on so great a man as Red Jacket. Several other chiefs
addressed the council to the same, effect. The condemned orator rose
slowly, as if grieved and humiliated, but yet with his ancient air of
command.
{Illustration: Adolph Knock and Family, Sioux.}
"My Brothers," he said after a solemn pause, "you have this day been
correctly informed of an attempt to make me sit down and throw off the
authority of a chief, by twenty-six misguided chiefs of my nation. You have
heard the statements of my associates in council, and their explanations of
the foolish charges brought against me. I have taken the legal and proper
way to meet these charges. It is the only way in which I could notice them.
Charges which I despise, and which nothing would induce me to notice but
the concern which many respected chiefs of my nation feel in the character
of their aged comrade. Were it otherwise, I should not be before you. I
would fold my arms and sit quietly under these ridiculous slanders.
"The Christian party have not even proceeded legally, according to our
usages, to put me down. Ah! it grieves my heart, when I look around me and
see the situation of my people--in old-time united and powerful, now
divided and feeble. I feel sorry for my nation. When I am gone to the other
world--when the Great Spirit calls me away--who among my people can take my
place? Many years have I guided the nation."
Here he introduced some artful observations on the origin of the attack
upon him. He then alluded to the course taken by the Christians, as ruinous
and disgraceful, especially in their abandonment of the religion of their
fathers, and their sacrifices, for paltry considerations, of the land given
them by the Great Spirit. As for the "Black-Coats," Mr. Calhoun had told
him at Washington, four years before, that the Indians must treat with
them as they thought proper; the Government would not interfere. "I will
not consent," he concluded, sagaciously identifying his disgrace with his
opposition to the Christians, "I will not consent silently to be trampled
under foot. As long as I can raise my voice, I will oppose such measures.
As long as I can stand in my moccasins, I will do all that I can for my
nation." It is scarcely necessary to add that the result of the conference
was the triumphant restoration of the orator to his former rank.
In a council which was held with the Senecas by General Tompkins, of New
York, a discussion arose concerning some point in a treaty made several
years before. The agent stated one thing and Red Jacket another, insisting
that he was correct. He was answered that it was written on paper, in the
record of that treaty, and must be so.
"The paper then tells a lie," said the orator, "for I have it written here
(placing his hand upon his brow). You Yankees are born with a feather
between your fingers, but your paper does not speak the truth. The Indian
keeps his knowledge here this is the book the Great Spirit has given him
and it does not lie." On consulting the documents more particularly, it was
found that the Indian record was, _indeed, the most correct!_
Red Jacket's early youth was spent in the beautiful valley of the Genesee;
there were his favorite hunting grounds, and there his memory loved to
linger. During the strife of wars and the more bitter strife of treaties,
he had indulged very little in his favorite pastime; and when a day of
comparative quiet came, he, in company with a friend, took his gun and went
forth to enjoy one more hunt in this favored region. They had gone but a
short distance, however, when a clearing opened before them. With a
contemptuous sneer, the old man turned aside and wandered in another
direction. In a little while he came to another, and looking over a fence,
he saw a white man holding a plow, which was turning up the earth in dark
furrows over a large field. Again he turned sadly away, and plunged deeper
in the forest, but soon another open field presented itself and though he
had been all his life oppressed with the woes of his people, he now for the
first time sat down and wept. There was no longer any hope--they had wasted
away.
A gentleman who knew Red Jacket intimately for half a century, says: "He
was the most graceful public speaker I ever heard. His stature was above
the middle size; his eyes fine, and expressive of the intellect which gave
them fire; he was fluent without being too rapid; and dignified and
stately, without rigidity. When he arose, he would turn toward the Indians
and ask their attention to what he was about to say in behalf of the
Commissioner of the United States. He would then turn toward the
Commissioner, and with a slight but dignified inclination of the head,
proceed."
Red Jacket visited the Atlantic cities repeatedly, and for the last time as
late as the spring of 1829. He was, on these occasions, and especially on
the latter, the object of no little curiosity and attention. He enjoyed
both, and was particularly careful to demean himself in a manner suited to
the dignity of his rank and reputation.
One of the Boston papers contained the following mention of his visit to
that city: "Red Jacket.--This celebrated Indian chief, who has recently
attracted so much attention at New York and the Southern cities, has
arrived in this city, and has accepted an invitation of the Superintendent
to visit the New England Museum this evening, March 21, in his full Indian
costume, attended by Captain Johnson, his interpreter, by whom those who
wish it can be introduced and hold conversation with him."
Boston, then as now, was nothing if not literary, and a poetical friend
does him but justice in thus alluding to his Washington medal, his forest
costume and the stately carriage which the chieftain still gallantly
sustained:
"Thy garb--though Austria's bosom-star would frighten
That medal pale, as diamonds, the dark mine,
And George the Fourth wore, in the dance at Brighton,
A more becoming evening dress than thine.
"Yet 'tis a brave one, scorning wind and weather.
And fitted for thy couch on field and flood.
As Rob Roy's tartans for the highland heather.
Or forest green for England's Robin Hood.
"Is strength a monarch's merit?--like a whaler's--
Thou art as tall, as sinewy, and as strong
As earth's first kings--the Argo's gallant sailors--
Heroes in history, and gods in song.
"Who will believe that, with a smile whose blessing
Would, like the patriarch's, soothe a dying hour;
With voice as low, as gentle, and caressing,
As e'er won maiden's lip in moonlight bower
"With look like patient Job's eschewing evil
With motions graceful as a bird's in air
Thou art in truth, the veriest devil
That e'er clenched fingers in a captive's hair!
"That in thy veins there springs a poison fountain,
Deadlier than that which bathes the Upas tree;
And in thy wrath a nursing cat o' mountain
Is calm as her babe's sleep compared to thee!
"And underneath that face, like summer's oceans--
Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear--
Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions,
Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow--all, save fear.
"Love--for thy land, as if she were thy daughter;
Her pipes in peace, her tomahawk in wars;
Hatred of missionaries and cold water;
Pride--in thy rifle-trophies and thy scars;
"Hope--that thy wrongs will be by the Great Spirit
Remembered and revenged when thou art gone;
Sorrow--that none are left thee to inherit
Thy name, thy fame, thy passions and thy throne."
This poet is not the only civilized authority who noticed that Red Jacket
possessed personal attractions which greatly aided his forensic success,
for one of the most distinguished public men of the State of New York was
wont to say that the chieftain reminded him strongly of the celebrated John
Randolph, of Roanoke, in his best estate, and that these two were the only
orators of nature he had ever heard or seen.
In the last stanza quoted is an allusion to the melancholy domestic
circumstances of the subject of them. He had been--according to
Thatcher--the father of thirteen children, during his lifetime, and had
buried them all.
Some time after this visit to the Atlantic cities, he was invited to the
launching of a schooner which was named after him. He christened the vessel
with a short speech.
"You have a great name given to you," said he, addressing the ship, "strive
to deserve it. Be brave and daring. Go boldly into the great lakes and fear
neither the swift wind nor the strong waves. Be not frightened nor overcome
by them, for it is in resisting storms and tempest that I, whose name you
bear, obtained my renown. Let my great example inspire you to courage and
lead you to glory."
Of the domestic character and habits of the great Indian orator we know, of
course, very little. It has not been the custom of civilized or Christian
people to relate much concerning the home life of eminent Indians.
We know, however, that Red Jacket separated from his first wife after she
had become the mother of several children, and that her infidelity was the
alleged cause. The repugnance which he ever afterward manifested toward her
is in accordance with his known moral purity of character.
Red Jacket married a second wife. She was the widow of a chief named Two
Guns, and a woman of fine face and bearing. She became interested in
Christianity, and thought of joining the church; whereupon Red Jacket was
enraged. He said that they had lived happily together, but that now if she
joined the party to which her husband was opposed, he would leave her. His
wife, however, joined the church, and Red Jacket immediately left her and
went to the other reservation.
But he was not happy separated from those he loved, and those he left were
not happy without him. He missed the caresses of the children, and
especially the youngest daughter, of whom he was very fond. Through the
agency of this little girl a reconciliation was effected. He even promised
that he would never again interfere with his wife's religious privileges,
and to his credit be it said, he kept the promise.
The great orator was suddenly taken ill of cholera morbus in the council
house, where he had gone that day dressed with more than ordinary care,
with all his gay apparel and ornaments. When he returned he said to his
wife, "I am sick; I could not stay till the council had finished. I shall
never recover." He then took off all his rich costume and laid it
carefully away; reclined himself upon his couch and did not rise again till
morning, or speak except to answer some slight question. His wife prepared
him medicine which he patiently took, but said, "It will do no good. I
shall die." The next day he called her to him, and requested her and the
little girl he loved so much, to sit beside him, and listen to his parting
words.
"I am going to die," he said. "I shall never leave the house again alive. I
wish to thank you for your kindness to me. You have loved me. You have
always prepared my food and taken care of my clothes, and been patient with
me. I am sorry I ever treated you unkindly. I am sorry I left you, because
of your new religion, and I am convinced that it is a good religion and
has made you a better woman, and wish you to persevere in it. I should like
to have lived a little longer for your sake. I meant to build you a new
house and make you more comfortable, but it is now too late. But I hope my
daughter will remember what I have often told her--not to go in the streets
with strangers or improper persons. She must stay with her mother, and grow
up a respectable woman.
"When I am dead it will be noised abroad through all the world--they will
hear of it across the great waters, and say, 'Red Jacket, the great orator,
is dead.' And white men will come and ask you for my body. They will wish
to bury me. But do not let them take me. Clothe me in my simplest dress
put on my leggings and my moccasins, and hang the cross which I have worn
so long, around my neck, and let it lie upon my bosom. Then bury me among
my people. Neither do I wish to be buried with Pagan rites. I wish the
ceremonies to be as you like, according to the customs of your new religion
if you choose. Your minister says the dead will rise. Perhaps they will. If
they do, I wish to rise with my old comrades. I do not wish to rise among
_pale-faces._ I wish to be surrounded by red men. Do not make a feast
according to the customs of the Indians. Whenever my friends chose, they
could come and feast with me when I was well, and I do not wish those who
have never eaten with me in my cabin to surfeit at my funeral feast."
When he had finished, he laid himself again upon the couch and did not rise
again. He lived several days, but was most of the time in a stupor, or else
delirious. He often asked for Mr. Harris, the missionary, and afterward
would unconsciously mutter--"I do not hate him--he thinks I hate him, but
I do not. I would not hurt him." The missionary was sent for repeatedly,
but he did not return till the chieftain was dead. When the messenger told
him Mr. Harris had not come, he replied, "Very well. The Great Spirit will
order it as he sees best, whether I have an opportunity to speak with
him." Again he would murmur, "He accused me of being a snake, and trying
to bite somebody. This was very true, and I wish to repent and make
satisfaction."
Whether it was Mr. Harris that he referred to all the time he was talking
in this way could not be ascertained, as he did not seem to comprehend if
any direct question was put to him, but from his remarks, and his known
enmity to him, this was the natural supposition.
The cross which he wore was a very rich one, of stones set in gold, and
very large; it was given to him, but by whom his friends never knew. This
was all the ornament which he requested should be buried with him.
It certainly was very remarkable that Red Jacket, after a life of sworn
enmity to Christianity, should be so influenced by the unobtrusive example
of his Christian wife, as to abjure Pagan rites and request Christian
burial. But such was undoubtedly the case, as we are informed by Minnie
Myrtle, who spent much time among the Iroquois, especially the Senecas, and
got her information concerning "the closing scene" from the sachem's
favorite stepdaughter.
The wife and daughter were the only ones to whom he spoke parting words or
gave a parting blessing; but as his last hour drew nigh, his family all
gathered around him, and mournful it was to think that the children were
not his own--his were all sleeping in the little churchyard where he was
soon to be laid--they were his stepchildren--the children of his favorite
wife. It has been somewhere stated that his first wife died before him, but
this is a mistake; she was living at the time of his death.
His last words were still, "Where is the missionary?" He then clasped the
little girl, whom he loved so devotedly, to his bosom; while she sobbed in
anguish her ears caught his hurried breathing--his arms relaxed their
hold--she looked up, and he was gone. There was mourning in the household,
and there was mourning among the people. The orator, the great man of whom
they were still proud, while they lamented his degeneracy, was gone. He had
been a true though mistaken friend, and who would take his place?
All his requests were complied with strictly. The funeral took place in the
little mission church, with appropriate but most simple ceremonies. In
these the Pagans took but little interest. Wrapped in profound and solemn
thought, they, however, waited patiently their termination. Some of them
then arose, and successively addressed their countrymen in their own
language. They recounted the exploits and the virtues of him whose remains
they were now about to bear to his last home. They remembered his own
prophetic appeal--"Who shall take my place among my people?" They thought
of the ancient glory of their nation, and they looked around them on its
miserable remnant. The contrast made their hearts sick, and tears trickled
down their cheeks. Well might they weep! The strong warrior's arm was
mouldering into dust, and the eye of the gifted orator was cold and
motionless forever.
The last council he attended he recommended to both parties among his
people, the Christian and Pagan, that they should resolve to quarrel no
more, but each man believe according, to his own way. In his last public
speech to his people he said: "I am about to leave you, and when I am gone,
and my warning shall no longer be heard or regarded, the craft and avarice
of the white man will prevail. Many winters have I breasted the storm, but
I am an aged tree and can stand no longer. My leaves are fallen, my
branches are withered, and I am shaken by every breeze. Soon my aged trunk
will be prostrate, and the foot of the exulting foe of the Indian may be
placed upon it in safety; for I have none who will be able to avenge such
an indignity. Think not I mourn for myself. I go to join the spirits of my
fathers, where age can not come; but my heart fails me when I think of my
people, who are so soon to be scattered and forgotten."
{Illustration: Red Jacket presents a buck to the delegation from
Philadelphia.}
In less than nine years after his death "the craft and avarice of the white
man" had prevailed, as he predicted, and "every foot of the ancient
inheritance of the Senecas was ceded to the white man, in exchange for a
tract west of the Mississippi." Through the intervention of the Friends,
however, this calamity was averted, and for the first and only time, the
Indians recovered their land after it had been fraudulently obtained.
Red Jacket was buried in the little mission burying ground, at the gateway
of what was once an old fort.
A simple stone was erected to mark his grave, and the spot became a resort
for travelers from far and near.
The following inscription was cut on his tombstone:
SA-GO-YE-WAT-HA,
THE KEEPER AWAKE.
RED JACKET,
CHIEF OF THE
WOLF TRIBE OF THE SENECAS.
Died, Jan. 20, 1830.
Aged, 78 years.
His headstone was desecrated by relic-hunting vandals, until his name
disappeared from the marble.
Some among those who knew and honored him, wished to remove his remains to
the new cemetery at Buffalo. They even caused him to be disinterred and
placed in a leaden coffin, preparatory to a second burial. But ere their
desire was accomplished, his family had heard of what they considered the
terrible sacrilege, and immediately demanded that he should be given up.
They had removed from the Buffalo to the Cattaraugus reservation, and
therefore did not wish to bury him again in the mission churchyard, so they
brought his precious dust to their own dwelling, where for many years it
remained unburied. They almost felt as if he would rise up to curse them,
if they allowed him to lie side by side with those he so cordially hated.
He did not wish to rise with pale-faces, whom he considered the despoilers
of his people, nor to mingle his red dust with that of his white foes.
Recently a splendid monument, surmounted by a statue of the great Seneca
orator, has been erected in the beautiful city of Buffalo.