AN INDIAN DEMOSTHENES
RED JACKET, THE SENECA
Red Jacket was the greatest orator ever born to the American race.
President Jefferson said of the words quoted at the close of the
preceding chapter: "I may challenge the whole orations of Demosthenes
and Cicero, and of any more eminent orator, if Europe has furnished
more eminent, to produce a single passage superior to the speech of
Logan." Yet that speech is the only notable one which, so far as we
know, was ever made by the famous sachem, who afterwards died of strong
drink. But Red Jacket delivered many that will live. His eloquence
at times reached the loftiest flights; his sarcasm and irony were
unequalled, and the effect of his wonderful addresses was surpassed by
no orator of ancient or modern times. He was never a noted warrior, and
when he was once asked as to his exploits in the field, he replied:
"A warrior! I am an _Orator_; I was born an _Orator_!"
[Illustration: A SENECA WARRIOR]
The Indian name of Red Jacket, like most Indian names, is variously
spelled, the most common being Sagoyewatha. He was chief of the
Senecas, had white blood in his veins, and was born about the middle of
the eighteenth century.
[Illustration: INDIAN CONQUERING THE WILD HORSE.]
[Illustration: THE INDIAN ARCHER.]
[Illustration: THE INDIAN SCOUT.]
[Illustration: INDIANS SHOOTING THE RAPIDS.]
We know comparatively little of the military career of Red Jacket.
It is certain that he fought with his tribe against the Americans
during the Revolution, and was their enemy in the troublous times
that followed in the West. He was never a great warrior or leader,
and although he displayed bravery at times, he was surpassed in that
respect by many of his people, who won less fame than he. It has even
been charged more than once that the Seneca sachem showed a timidity
amounting almost to cowardice,--a crime unpardonable with his race,
and which would have brought disgrace to him but for his marvelous
eloquence.
Red Jacket's one ambition was to become the greatest orator of his
race, and as has been already stated, he gained that honor. The poet
Halleck declared he possessed:
"The monarch mind--the mystery of commanding--
The godlike power--the art Napoleon,
Of winning, fettering, moulding, wielding, banding,
The heart of millions, till they move like one."
As proof of the oratorical genius of the chief, an incident may be
related. In the spring of 1821, an Indian, belonging to his tribe, died
of a mysterious disease. Several circumstances were so strange that
the woman who attended him in his last hours was accused of being a
witch. According to the laws of the nation, she was doomed to death,
just as was formerly the rule among the most civilized nations, and
especially in New England. The chief appointed to execute her did so
without hesitation. The whites were so outraged and indignant, that
they arrested the man and threw him into prison. Among the witnesses
was Red Jacket. Neither he nor the criminal himself denied the charge,
but they pleaded that it was justified by a law in force from time
immemorial. The chief had eyes of wonderfully piercing power. While on
the witness stand, he suddenly called out in a voice that rang like a
trumpet through the court room:
[Illustration: A HURRIED FLIGHT]
What! Do you denounce us as fools and bigots, because we still continue
to believe that which you yourselves believed two centuries ago? Your
divines have thundered this doctrine from the pulpit, your judges have
pronounced it from the bench, your courts of justice have sanctioned it
with the formalities of law, and you would now punish our unfortunate
brother for adherence to the superstition of his fathers!
"_Go to Salem!_ Look at the records of your government, and you will
find hundreds executed for the very crime which has called forth the
sentence of condemnation upon this woman, and drawn down the arm of
vengeance on her. What have our brothers done more than the rulers
of your people have done? And what crime has this man committed by
executing, in a summary way, the laws of his country, and the commands
of his God?"
The prisoner was set free.
As has been hinted, Red Jacket became addicted to the use of liquor,
as his years increased. He indulged at times to such an extent that
even his own people felt scandalized. It was impossible that such an
aggressive leader should not make enemies. More than one of his acts
offended members of his tribe. Conscious of his own mental superiority,
he left no doubt of the estimation in which he held others. He was
not always tactful, and the attention paid to him by whites roused
much jealousy. After plotting together, these enemies formed a plan
for taking his chieftaincy from him in the autumn of 1827, they
"impeached" him. A series of charges were brought against the orator,
embracing about all the crimes a man is capable of committing. Had Red
Jacket been guilty of a tenth of them, he deserved hanging. It was his
drinking habits which really brought the issue to a head. The charges
were signed by twenty-six leading Senecas who declared Red Jacket
deposed.
But the fiery old orator was not the one tamely to submit to such
injustice. Knowing that it was useless to appeal to his own particular
tribe, he appealed to the Six Nations themselves, and, within a month
of his deposition, the chiefs representing all the different tribes
assembled in Grand Council, at the upper council house of the Seneca
reservation.
The hearing was conducted with dignity. The charges were read and the
action of the Seneca council stated. After several speeches, Red Jacket
rose to his feet with all his former kingly majesty. He was old and his
bad habits had wrought havoc with the once iron frame, but his eye had
lost none of its fire, his voice none of its persuasive power, and for
the occasion he was Red Jacket, the supreme orator.
His address was cunning, convincing and resistless. He swept every
obstacle like chaff from before him. Even his enemies were thrilled by
his eloquence. His victory was absolute. He was restored to his former
rank and held it to the end.
Red Jacket's intemperate habits hastened his death, which took place in
his own cabin, near Buffalo, in the month of January, 1830. The voice
of the matchless orator, the "Last of the Senecas," was never to be
heard again.