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!"

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.

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:

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:

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.

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