The following is an instance in point. At a council held with the Indians by Gov. Tompkins of New York, a contest arose between him and Red Jacket in regard to a fact connected with a treaty of many years' standing. Mr.

Tompkins stated one thing, and the Indian chief corrected him, insisting that the reverse of his a.s.sertion was true. "But" it was rejoined: "you have forgotten." We have it written down on paper. "The paper then tells a lie," was the confident answer; "I have it written down here;" he added, placing his hand with great dignity on 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 gave them; it does not lie." A reference was immediately made to the treaty in question, when to the astonishment of all present, and the triumph of the unlettered statesman, the doc.u.ment confirmed every word he had uttered. [Footnote: McKenney's Indian Biography.]

He held in utter contempt _pretensions_ without _merit_. "On one occasion not many years before his death, a gentleman from Albany, on a visit at Buffalo, being desirous of seeing the chief, sent a message to that effect. The gentleman was affluent in money and in words, the latter flowing forth with great rapidity, and in an inverse ratio to his ideas.

He had also a habit of approaching very near to any person with whom he was conversing, and chattering with almost unapproachable volubility. On receiving the message, Red Jacket dressed himself with the utmost care, designing, as he ever did when sober, to make the most imposing impression, and came over to the village.

"Being introduced to the stranger, he soon measured his intellectual capacity, and made no effort to suppress his disappointment, which was indeed sufficiently disclosed in his features. After listening, for a few moments to the chatter of the gentleman, Red Jacket with a look of mingled chagrin and contempt, approached close to him and exclaimed, 'cha, cha, cha,' as rapidly as utterance would allow. Then drawing himself to his full height, he turned proudly upon his heel, and walked away in the direction of his own domicil, _as straight as an Indian_, nor deigned to look behind while in sight of the tavern. The gentleman with more money than brains, was for once lost in astonishment, and longer motionless and silent than he had ever been before." [Footnote: Col. Stone.]

He held the mere sensualist in equal contempt. "Many years ago, before the Indian towns were broken up along the valley of the Genesee, a clan of the Senecas resided at Canaw.a.n.gus, in the vicinity of the present town of Avon. The chief of the clan was a good, easy man, named Hot Bread. He was a hereditary sachem, not having risen by merit, was weak and inefficient, and of gluttonous habits. On a certain occasion, when Mr. George Hosmer was accompanying Red Jacket to an Indian council, in the course of general conversation he inquired the chief's opinion of Hot Bread. 'Waugh!'

exclaimed Red Jacket: 'He has a little place at Canaw.a.n.gus, big enough for him. _Big man here_,' laying his left hand on his abdomen, '_But very small here_,' bringing the palm of his right hand _with significant_ emphasis to his forehead." [Footnote: Ib.]

He loved to hold communion with the sublime and grand in nature. He never wearied when viewing the falls of Niagara, and their roar, the baritone of nature's anthem, stirred within, depths that other harmonies failed to reach. When Mr. Catlin, the celebrated Indian portrait painter, desired to obtain the orator's picture, his consent was given, but he must be represented as standing on Table Rock, "for," said he, "when I pa.s.s to the other world, my spirit will come back, and that is the place around which it will linger." [Footnote: Catim's North American Indians.]

The artist gratified the orator, and represents him as standing there in the att.i.tude of deep thought, dressed with much care in complete Indian costume, a very interesting memorial, presenting evident marks of being one of nature's n.o.blemen.

Since then Red Jacket has gone to his grave, and this rock where he often stood and feasted his soul on sublimities unrivalled in nature, has likewise fallen, while the world, like the impetuous flood, rolls on unconscious of both.

Of the various paintings of Red Jacket, Col. Stone remarks, "The picture by Mr. Robert W. Weir, taken in 1828, at the request of Doctor John W.

Francis of New York, is of far the highest order of merit, and has become the standard likeness of the last of the Seneca orators." To this is subjoined the following description from the pen of Doctor Francis, of the orator's appearance on the occasion,

"For this purpose he dressed himself in the costume which he deemed most appropriate to his character, decorated with his brilliant overcovering and belt, his tomahawk, and Washington medal.

"For the whole period of nearly two hours, on four or five successive days, he was as punctual to the arrangements of the artist, as any individual could be. He chose a large arm chair for his convenience, while his interpreter, as well as himself, was occupied for the most part in surveying the various objects, which decorated the artist's room. He had a party of several Senecas with him, who, adopting the horizontal position, in different parts of the room, regaled themselves with the fumes of tobacco, to their utmost gratification. Red Jacket occasionally united in this relaxation; but was so deeply absorbed in attention to the work of the painter, as to think, perhaps, of no other subject. At times he manifested extreme pleasure, as the outlines of the picture were filled up. The drawing of his costume, which he seemed to prize, as peculiarly appropriate, and the falls of Niagara, scenery at no great distance from his residence at the reservation, forced him to an indistinct utterance of satisfaction. When his medal appeared complete in the picture, he addressed his interpreter, accompanied by striking gestures; and when his n.o.ble front was finished, he sprang upon his feet with great alacrity, and seizing the artist by the hand, exclaimed with great energy, 'Good! Good!'

The painting being finished, he parted with Mr. Weir with a satisfaction apparently equal to that which he doubtless, on some occasions had felt, on effecting an Indian treaty. Red Jacket must have been beyond his seventieth year when the painting was made. He exhibited in his countenance, somewhat of the traces of time and trial, on his const.i.tution. Nevertheless he was of a tall, erect form, and walked with a firm gait. His characteristics are preserved by the artist to admiration; and his majestic front exhibits an att.i.tude surpa.s.sing every other, that I have ever seen of the human skull. As a specimen for the craniologist, Red Jacket need not yield his pretensions to those of the most astute philosopher. He will long live by the painting of Weir, the poetry of Halleck, and the fame of his own deeds."

Red Jacket had a quick and acute perception, he was very adroit. He at one time exposed the false pretenses of Jemima Wilkinson by arranging it with a few Indians to converse in her presence, in a manner that excited her curiosity. The ruse was successful, she anxiously inquired what they were talking about? Turning upon her a searching glance, he exclaimed, "What!

Are you Jesus Christ? and not know Indian?"

Though unacquainted with the usages of society, in the refined circles where he often appeared, he readily adapted himself to the new position, and conducted with propriety and ease, careful to conceal his ignorance at the time. Mr. Thomas Morris in a letter to Colonel Stone, observes: "He once on his return from Philadelphia, told me that when there he perceived many things, the meaning of which he did not understand, but he would not make inquiry concerning them there, because they would be imputed to his ignorance. He therefore determined on his return to ask me.

"He said when he dined at General Washington's, a man stood all the time behind his chair, and would, every now and then run off with his plate, and knife and fork, which he would immediately replace by others. 'Now,'

said Red Jacket, 'what was this for?' I replied that he must have observed on the president's table a variety of dishes, that each dish was cooked in a different manner, and that the plates and knives and forks of the guests, were changed as often as they were helped from a different dish.

'Ah!' said he, 'is that it?' I replied in the affirmative. 'You must then suppose,' he continued, 'that the plates, and knives, and forks, retain the taste of the cookery?' Yes, I replied. 'Have you then,' he added, 'any method by which you can change your palates every time you change your plates? For I should suppose that the taste would remain on the palate longer than on the plate?' I replied that we were in the habit of washing that away by drinking wine. 'Ah!' said he, 'now I understand it. I was persuaded that so general a custom among you was founded in reason, and I only regret that when I was in Philadelphia I did not understand it; when dining with General Washington and your father. 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.'" [Footnote: Col.

Stone's Life of Red Jacket.]

It has been well observed of him, "He had an innate refinement and grace of manner, that stamped him the true gentleman, because with him these virtues were inborn, and not simulated or acquired." [Footnote: W. C.

Bryant's Memorial Address.]

On one occasion when Mr. George Hosmer of Avon, and several others of his tribe, were on their way to attend a certain treaty, the Indians one evening after the fatigues of the day, were unusually mirthful. Red Jacket conceiving the idea that Mr. Hosmer, who was unacquainted with their language might suppose he was the subject of their mirth, caused them to be silent, and through his interpreter, Captain Parrish, thus addressed him.

"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 feel 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 our mirth."

To which Mr. Hosmer replied, that knowing himself to be in the company of brave and honorable men, he could not allow himself to entertain such an impression. After which they resumed their merriment, and Red Jacket his gravity. [Footnote: Col. Stone.]

The first efforts to construct a bridge at Niagara Falls was unsuccessful.

It was supposed the force of the water where it flowed smoothly, would not be as great as where it dashed against the rocks and appeared more boisterous. This was a mistake. Every endeavor to fix a bent where the water was smooth, proved utterly abortive. At length an architect conceived the idea of placing the bridge, down where the water began to be broken in its descent, and of obtaining a foot-hold for his bent, behind some rock against which the water dashed. This resulted in the successful completion of a bridge, leading to Goat Island. After its completion, Red Jacket, in company with General Porter, was pa.s.sing over it one day, when the chief, whose curiosity was excited, examined minutely every part of its construction, evidently regarding it, as a great wonder. At length discovering the secret, he exclaimed, "_Ugh! still water_!" and immediately added, "_d--n Yankee_." [Footnote: Given to the author by T.

M. Howell, Esq., of Canandaigua, N. Y.]

Red Jacket was not a stranger to _tender and refined sensibilities_.

William Savary in his Journal, while attending the Indian treaty held at Canandaigua in 1794, speaks of the children of Red Jacket in terms of high commendation. Most of them died of consumption, "in the dew of their youth."

On one occasion, when visiting an aged lady of his acquaintance near Avon, who from early life had been more or less familiar with his history, she inquired of him, if any of his children were still living? Fixing his eyes upon her, with a sorrowful expression, he replied:

"Red Jacket was once a great man, and in favor with the Great Spirit. He was a lofty pine among the smaller trees of the forest. But after years of glory he degraded himself, by drinking the firewater of the white man. The Great Spirit has looked upon him in anger, and his lightning has stripped the pine of its branches." [Footnote: Related to Col. Stone by Mrs. George Hosmer of Avon.]

Some four or five years before his death, three brothers, named Thayer, were executed at Buffalo for the crime of murder. The occasion was unusual, and mult.i.tudes of both s.e.xes, from the surrounding region, flocked to witness the unhappy spectacle.

On the day of the execution, Red Jacket was met by Judge Walden, of Buffalo, wending his way from the town to his home. The judge inquired where he was going? At the same time expressing his surprise that he did not go with the mult.i.tudes, flocking to witness the spectacle. His answer was brief; "Fools enough there already. Battle, is the place to see men die."

The reply was a merited rebuke to the desire so prevalent, to witness these awful sights. [Footnote: Mrs. George Hosmer to Col. Stone.]

Red Jacket ever cherished a watchful regard over the interests of his people, and was always ready to speak in their behalf.

At the trial of an Indian for burglary, himself and other chiefs were present to render any aid in their power, to their brother in bonds. The prisoner was found guilty of having broken into a house and stolen a few silver spoons. The crime of pet.i.t larceny, was thus merged in the greater one of burglary.

At a fitting opportunity Red Jacket arose and spoke eloquently in his brother's defense; urging the independence of his nation, the existence among them of laws for the punishment of theft, and boldly demanding the surrender of the prisoner, a.s.suring the court that the prisoner should be tried by these laws, and suffer the penalty they demanded. His effort though regarded as able and brilliant, did not avail to rescue the prisoner from the white man, whose sentence in the case being for burglary instead of theft, Red Jacket regarded as unnecessarily severe.

When the proceedings were over, Red Jacket, who happened to be standing with a group of lawyers, took the following method of expressing his dissatisfaction.

Beholding on the sign of a printing office near by, an emblematic representation in large figures and characters, of Liberty and Justice; he asked in broken English, pointing to one of them, "_What-him-call?_"

It was answered, _Liberty_. "Ugh!" was his significant and truly aboriginal response. Pointing then to the other figure, he inquired, "_What_-HIM-call?" It was answered, JUSTICE. Whereupon his eye kindling with animation, he asked with evident emotion, "WHERE-HIM-LIVE- NOW?" [Footnote: Geo. Hosmer, Esq., to Col. Stone.]

If the sincerity of Red Jacket's regard for the welfare of his people was ever questioned, it was by those who knew not his inner self. In guarding the interests of his people, he was in the habit of closely watching strangers, not only, but even his own friends.

Owing to slanderous reports that had been circulated, he at one time began to suspect that his friend Captain Jones, was actuated by motives of self- interest, and did not property regard the interest of the Indians.

Jones soon after met Red Jacket with his usual cordiality of manner, but was received with evident marks of coldness and distrust. "After the lapse of a few minutes, during which time the questions of Jones were answered in monosylables, the captain asked an explanation of the orator's conduct.

Fixing his searching glance upon him, as if reading the secrets of his soul, Red Jacket told him of the rumor circulated, in reference to his fidelity to the Indians, and concluded by saying with a saddened expression, 'And have _you_ at last deserted us?' The look, the tone, the att.i.tude of the orator, were so touching, so despairing, that Jones, though made of stern materials, wept like a child; at the same time refuting the calumny in the most energetic terms. Convinced that Jones was still true, the chief, forgetful of the stoicism of his race, mingled his tears with those of Jones, and embracing him with the cordiality of old, the reconciled parties renewed old friendship over a social gla.s.s."

[Footnote: W. H. C. Hosmer to Col. Stone.]

CHAPTER XXI

Views at the close of life--Incident--His life work--Unfavorable influences--Advance of the Christian party--Conversion of Red Jacket's wife--He leaves her--His return--Red Jacket deposed--Journey to Washington --His restoration--Rapid decline--Regards his end as near--Talks with his people--Endeavors to unite them.

With the views entertained by Red Jacket, the objects that met him on every side, as he drew near the close of life, were far from pleasant.

Yonder hillside, exposed to the gaze of the world, its huge rocks laid bare; those fields, stretching further than eye could reach, bounded not by woodland, lake, or river, but by the white man's fence; ten thousand dwellings, smiling with the abundance and thrift of the husbandman, city and village, bustling with tumult, and the noise of busy hammers, and rattling wheels, and roaring engines; all of these however gratifying to the white man, as marks of improvement, afforded him no pleasure. He saw in them the sepulcher of his people's pride and glory.

The hillside opened to the sunlight, for the innocent lamb to sport upon, or to make the stable ox a home, he would have loved better, as when sheltered once by the st.u.r.dy oak or stately pine, its rocks jutting out from behind the ivy, and its bosom threaded by the path of the deer. The fields might have appeared inviting and green, but the white man's barrier would have warned him away, the road he would have looked upon as a prisoned path, and he would have taken to the woods, as a place more congenial to his spirit.

It is said of him "that in the days of his youth he was wont to join the hunters in the beautiful valley of the Genesee, with great enthusiasm.

Game was then plenty, and they were the finest hunting grounds, he could traverse. Toward the close of his life he went thither to indulge once more, in the pleasures of the chase, where a forest apparently of considerable extent, yet remained. He entered it, recognizing some of his ancient friends among the more venerable of the trees, and hoping yet to find abundant game. But he had not proceeded far before he approached an opening; and his course was presently impeded by a fence, within the enclosure of which, one of the pale faces was guiding the plow. With a heavy heart he turned in another direction, the forest seeming yet to be deep, and where he hoped to find a deer, as in the days when he was young.

But he had not traveled long, before another opening broke upon his view, another fence impeded his course, and another cultivated field appeared within. He sat down and wept." [Footnote: Circ.u.mstances related to Col.

Stone by a Seneca chief.]