celebrated brave, called Corn Planter by the English, a man well
known for his oratorical powers and skill as a warrior. This eminent
Chieftain suddenly found that his power over his men was declining,
partly owing to the fact that in 1784 he had used his influence in
consenting to a cession of Seneca land to the American government at
the treaty of Fort Stanwix, and partly owing to the fact that he was
growing so old that the young blood of the tribe felt that a young man
should lead them. Bitterly chagrined by his loss of popularity, Corn
Planter resolved upon a desperate exertion to restore his departing
influence, and, with this end in view, determined to practice upon
the superstitions of the Indians and rid himself of those chiefs who
opposed his rule. So he had his brother declare himself a prophet or
Messiah, and, stating that he had come to restore the former prestige
of the red men and make them again great, he soon had great influence
among the credulous Senecas.
But now the evil designs of Corn Planter came to a head. The Prophet
declared that several members of the tribe were wizards or magicians,
and among them Red Jacket was named as the chief offender. He was
publicly denounced by those influenced by the Prophet, who, at a great
Indian council, declared that he should be put to death. At this
crisis Red Jacket knew that his safety and life itself depended upon
his intellectual powers, and so determined to make use of the greatest
oratorical efforts that he was capable of. Appearing before the
assembled Indians, he rose majestically before them, and throwing back
his blanket said in part:
"Brothers, you accuse me of being a Wizard and Sorcerer. This Prophet,
the brother of Corn Planter, has told you that I am a man of evil
thoughts and would work you ill. It is an untruth. Never since I was a
small boy have I thought evil of any of my own race, and never since
I came of age have I ever labored for anything but the good of my
people. How can I, who have loved you at a peace all these years, have
married among you, have brought up my children among you, how can I,
I say, wish ill to the people whom I have starved, slept and feasted
with? Brothers, you know that in the treaty at Fort Stanwix I was for
war, while Corn Planter was for peace and wished to give over our lands
to the whites. You see how you have fared by following his advice. You
are now poor, without hunting ground, and the white men have your best
lands. Had you stood by me, and had you waged war upon the whites, we
would have defeated them, driven them from our borders, and we would
now have good grounds to live upon. You see how following this man's
advice has served us."
This he continued for three hours, at the end of which time he had
fully persuaded the Indians that the Prophet was an imposter and fraud,
that Corn Planter should be deposed, and that he himself should be
freed from all charges against himself. The savages had all been in
favor of his death, but, swayed by this masterful eloquence, a portion
of their numbers came to his way of thinking, and when a vote was taken
in regard to what disposition should be made of him, their numbers were
sufficient to set him free. Corn Planter's influence was at an end,
and soon Red Jacket was foremost in the councils of those of his own
nationality. The masterful power of oratory had won him the foremost
position in his own tribe.
The Indians, in fact, had fared ill for the part that they had taken in
the American Revolution, between the American Colonists of New York
and the British. Influenced by the Iroquois and their powerful ally,
Captain Joseph Brant--the great war chief of the Mohawks--they had
thrown in their lot with the English troops. Red Jacket had eloquently
plead with his people to remain neutral. "Let these whites fight it out
among themselves," he had said, "while we remain upon our own lands and
take care of ourselves. What have the English done for us? What will
they do for us if they win, but insist upon a division of our land?" He
here rose to his fullest height, (for he was in the council chamber)
and pointed to the winding current of the Mohawk. "Why should we leave
our beautiful country by the shimmering waters of the river which we
love, in order to become killed, maimed and homeless for the sake of
our white brothers? Why should we give up everything for these men, I
say, when we are happy and peaceful here? It is none of our quarrel.
Let us rest."
In spite of this appeal his own warriors would not listen to his
words of advice and called him a coward, and also the "cow-killer."
With smirks and grimaces they would often tell how at the outbreak of
the war the young chief had exhorted all about him to be filled with
valor and courage, to march forth valiantly towards the enemy, for he,
himself, would be there in the thickest of the fighting. Stirred by
his address, the warriors were soon engaged in battle, but when they
looked for the orator he was missing. In vain they searched for him at
the close of hostilities, and, at last, found him cutting up a cow
which he had captured near the Indian village. This story was spread
broadcast, it caused great amusement, and many a Seneca was heard to
say: "Sa-go-ye-wat-ha, he talk much, but he no back up his big words."
At the close of the Revolutionary War, however, these warriors who had
previously reviled the sage counsellor of the Senecas wished that they
had listened more favorably to his advice. The British army of invasion
under Burgoyne which the Senecas and Mohawks allied themselves with,
was badly whipped at Saratoga, and those who were not captured fled to
Canada. The country came into the possession of the American troops;
the Mohawks emigrated to Canadian soil, where they were given no aid
by the English, and the Senecas were treated in a high-handed manner
by the victorious sons of New England. Many of the members of this
powerful tribe perished in the battles around Saratoga, and, as they
were fighting for a cause which they did not understand, it soon became
apparent to them that they should have followed the advice of the great
orator. Too late they realized that the old adage was true, which runs,
"A prudent man foreseeth the evil and hideth himself, but the simple
pass on and are punished."
From the close of the American Revolution to the outbreak of the war
of 1812, the Senecas lived in peace and seclusion upon their lands.
President George Washington extended to them the hand of friendship and
offered them protection from their enemies if they would sign a treaty
with him. This they did, and the great American leader filled a place
in their affections which has never been equalled by any white man,
save Roger Williams or William Penn. So strong was the influence of the
"Father of his Country" among them, that in subsequent disturbances in
their dominions the Senecas either remained neutral or else were loyal
to the Americans and their interests. Red Jacket himself was one of
fifty chiefs who journeyed to Philadelphia to visit Washington in 1792,
where he was presented with a silver medal on which the President, 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 ploughing with a yoke of oxen in the
background--a hint to the Indians to abandon war and adopt the peaceful
pursuits of agriculture. Red Jacket accepted this with much pleasure,
prized it very highly, and wore it on all occasions of state.
When war broke out between the Americans and British in 1812, the
Senecas immediately offered their services to their American neighbors.
But their proffer of aid was rejected, and every effort was made to
induce them to remain neutral. The Indians did not care for such
treatment, but said nothing. At last, in the summer of 1812, the
English troops took possession of Grand Island, in the Niagara River,
and this was a valuable possession of the Senecas. Immediately,
therefore, they were anxious for war, a council was called, the
American Indian Agent was summoned to attend, and Red Jacket arose to
address him.
"Brother," he said, "you have told us that 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 by the British and their Indian friends.
It is necessary for us then to go to war. 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 custom 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."
Such was the effect of this outburst of oratory upon his hearers that
a grand council of the Six Nations soon came together and issued
a manifesto against the British in Canada. "We, the chiefs and
counsellors 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," ran this call to arms.
"Therefore, we do hereby command and advise all the war chiefs to call
forth immediately all the warriors under them and put them in motion to
protect their rights and liberties, which our brethren, the Americans,
are now defending."
Soon about three thousand warriors were in the field, eager and willing
to assist the American troops under General Boyd, who advanced into the
State of New York to battle with the British. On August 13th a fierce
fight took place at Fort George, in which the British were badly routed
and a number of the British Indians were captured by the Senecas under
Red Jacket.
"The bravery and humanity of the Indians were equally conspicuous,"
says General Boyd in his dispatch. "They behaved with great gallantry."
After the battle the Senecas neither scalped nor murdered the dead,
which was most extraordinary for Indians. But at a council held the day
before the battle, they had agreed not to follow their usual custom--a
method of procedure which Red Jacket strongly advocated. He, himself,
fought courageously with his followers; was seen to lead a charge
more than once; and certainly did away with any notions which his
braves might have entertained regarding his lack of courage in battle.
"Cow-killer" he was named no longer, and, after the conclusion of peace
between the English and Americans, he began with accustomed energy to
again direct the civil interests of the Senecas.
Numerous white missionaries now came to the country of the Indians,
endeavoring as well as they could to establish Christianity among the
savages. One of these--a missionary named Cram--made a long speech to
the Senecas, telling them that there was but one religion, and unless
they adopted it they could not prosper; that they had lived all their
lives in darkness; and that his object in talking to them was not to
get away their lands, or money, but to turn them towards the true
Gospel. Finally, he asked them to state their objections, if they had
any, to the adoption of his religion.
He closed his address with a strong appeal to their reasoning powers,
and, after he had finished speaking, the Seneca Chiefs retired for a
conference. After several hours of talking, Red Jacket came from the
tent in which they had been seated, and striding forward, delivered
the following speech, which stands as one of the greatest examples of
Indian eloquence that is known to history.
"Friend and Brother!" he began. "It was the will of the Great Spirit
that we should meet together this day. He orders all things, and he
has given us a fine day for our council. He has taken his garment from
before the sun and has caused the bright orb to shine with brightness
upon us. Our eyes are opened so that we see clearly. Our ears are
unstopped so that we have been able to distinctly hear the words which
you have spoken. For all these favors we thank the Great Spirit 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 attention to
what you have said. You have 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
all speak to you as one man. Our minds are agreed.
"Brother! You say that you want an answer to your talk before you leave
this place. It is right that you should have one, as you are a great
distance from home, and we do not wish to detain you. But we will first
look back a little, and tell you what our fathers have told us, and
what we have heard from the white people.
"Brother! Listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers
owned this great island (meaning the continent of North America--a
common belief among the Indians). Their seats extended from the rising
to the setting of the 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 made the bear and the deer, and their skins served us for
clothing. He had scattered them over the country, and had 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 any disputes about hunting grounds, they were generally settled
without the shedding of much blood. But an evil day came upon us. Your
forefathers crossed the great waters and landed on this island. Their
numbers were small. They found friends and not enemies. They told us
they had fled from their own country for fear of wicked men, and had
come here to enjoy their religion. They asked for a small seat. We
took pity on them, granted their request and they sat down amongst us.
We gave them corn and meat. They gave us poison (spirituous liquor)
in return. The white people 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 large 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 liquors among us. It was strong and powerful and
has slain thousands.
"Brother! Our seats were once large, and yours were very 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 you 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 agreeably 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 for you, why has not
the Great Spirit given it to us; and not only to us, but why did he not
give 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, 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 that way. It
teaches us to be thankful for all the favors we receive, to love each
other, and to be united. We never quarrel about religion.
"Brother! The Great Spirit has made us all. But he has made a great
difference between his white and red children. He has given us a
different complexion and different customs. To you he has given the
arts; to these he has not opened our eyes. We know these things to
be true. Since he has made so great a difference between us in other
things, why may not we conclude that he has given us a different
religion, according to our understanding? The Great Spirit does right.
He knows what is best for his children. We are satisfied.
"Brother! We do not wish to destroy your religion, or to take it from
you. We only want to enjoy our own.
"Brother! You say you have not come to get our land or our money, but
to enlighten our minds. I will now tell you that I have been at your
meetings and saw you collecting money from the meeting. I cannot tell
what this money was intended for, but suppose it was for your minister;
and if we should conform to your way of thinking, perhaps you may want
some from us.
"Brother! We are told that you have been preaching to 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 and makes them honest and
less disposed to cheat Indians, we will then consider again what you
have said.
"Brother! You have now heard our answer to your 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 safe to your friends."
There is little doubt that Red Jacket appreciated his own prowess
to the full and realized what a wonderful control he had over his
followers. In the council chamber he was supreme and usually was able
to sway the feelings of his hearers in whatever direction he wished.
Some one inquired one day what deeds of blood he had done in order to
make himself a true warrior among the Senecas, and to this he replied:
"A warrior! I am an orator! I was born an orator."
A young French nobleman visited Buffalo about 1815, and hearing of the
wonderful speaker, sent word to Red Jacket that he wished to talk with
him. But the oratorical chief received this message with contempt.
"Tell the young man that if he wishes to visit the old chief he will
find him with his nation," said he, "where other strangers pay their
respect to him, and Red Jacket will be glad to see him." To this the
Frenchman 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. To this the Seneca brave sent the following answer: "Tell
him that having come so far to see me it is strange he should stop
within seven miles of my lodge." "By Gad," said the nobleman, when
this message was delivered to him, "such a man of spirit must indeed
be worth journeying to see," and, without more ado, he hastened to
the lodge of the sarcastic Red Jacket. The Seneca orator now consented
to dine with him at Buffalo, and, after the repast, the enthusiastic
Frenchman exclaimed: "He is a remarkable man. Had he been white, he
would have one of the greatest reputations of the ages. He is a wonder
greater than Niagara Falls, which I have just visited."
Shortly after this an Indian was executed for the murder of his wife,
and a great crowd journeyed to see the hanging. Red Jacket, however,
was met going in the opposite direction from the scene. "Why do you
not go to see this affair?" asked a friend. "Fools enough are there
already," replied the great orator. "Battle is the proper place to see
men die."
"When I dined with President Washington," said he to a gentleman, "a
man ran off with my knife and fork every now and again, and returned
with others. What was that for?"
"There are a great many dishes," replied the gentleman, "each cooked in
a different manner. Every time a new dish is brought on the table, the
knives and forks are changed."
"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," answered the white man.
"Have you then any method by which you can change your palates every
time you change your plates? For I think the taste would remain on the
palate longer than it would on the plate."
"We are in the habit of washing the taste on our palates away with
wine," answered the gentleman.
"Ah, I understand!" ejaculated Red Jacket. "I was persuaded that so
general a custom among you must be founded on 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."
This famous orator was not only fully conscious of his own ability to
sway the emotions of others, but he had his full share of vanity. His
forehead was lofty and capacious; his eye was black and piercing; his
nose was sharply aquiline; while his cheek was well rounded. Every
feature marked a man of noble qualities, while an air of dignified
self-possession made a deep impression upon all with whom he came in
contact. When speaking, his eyes flashed fire, his body was continually
moving in the effort of speech-making, while the ready words poured
from his lips in a steady stream. The cadence of his speech was
measured and very musical, and when excited he would spring to his
feet, elevate his head, expand his arms and utter, with indescribable
effort of manner and tone, some great and noble thoughts. A gentleman
of the period has written: "It has been my good fortune to hear the
masterful Red Jacket but a few times in late years when his powers were
much enfeebled by old age and intemperance, but I shall never forget
the impression made upon me the first time that I saw him in council.
The English language has no figures to convey the true meaning of
his speech, and, though coming through the medium of an illiterate
interpreter, I could well realize that he was giving me a great
oration."
The great Seneca was twice married, and, although he had a large
family, many of his children died of consumption. A lady who took
an interest in the Seneca Nation once asked him whether he had any
children living. "Red Jacket was once a great man, and was 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, therefore, 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."
What the noted Seneca said of his degradation was unfortunately too
true, so true, in fact, that he was deposed by the members of his tribe
because of this intemperance. Several rival chiefs were jealous of his
position, which partly explained this action of the Senecas, although
his opposition to the introduction of the Christian religion into the
tribe was also a reason for removing him from the position of Head
Chief.
Red Jacket--with the true spirit of a warrior--was scarcely prepared
to submit to such a degradation, particularly as he knew that the true
motives of the chiefs who had deposed him were those of jealousy.
He felt the sting of shame, and remarked to one of his tribe, with
much feeling: "It shall not be said that Sa-go-ye-wat-ha lived in
insignificance and died in dishonor. Am I too feeble to revenge myself
upon my enemies? Am I not as I have been? I will call in the other
tribes of the Six Nations, and we will see whether or no Red Jacket
will be deposed." Consequently, only a month after his deposition, a
Grand Council of the chiefs of the Six Nations assembled together at
the upper council house of the Seneca village reservation.