“But we are told we can never live in peace here; that the land of the Indians’ peace is far towards the setting sun. Let us lay open our hearts to your honorable body. We are troubled. Why should it be said that we can have no peace here? The age, wisdom, and dignity of a great nation are yours. You can resolve our doubts for us. The United States have land enough. You have abundant means of communication. In all your wide country, your steamboats, rail cars, and carriages can bear your people whithersoever they wish to go. Neither have you any lack of wealth, that your people should wish to become rich at our expense. Neither have we given you any ground of complaint against us.
“We have fought by the side of one of your greatest generals. He still lives to bear testimony to our fidelity. Yes, the blood of our chiefs was shed on the battle-field for what you then told us was our common country. It was mingled with the blood of your enemies slain by our [[254]]hands, and that too at your solicitation, at a time when you said you stood in need of our aid. Why then can we have no peace in a land whose peace we helped to buy at such a price?
“It is true we are now few and weak; you are numerous and mighty, but you are also magnanimous. The great hearts which beat in the bosoms of your chiefs and head men, would not let them oppress the remnant of any nation almost wasted from the earth, much less the remnant of friends who once fought and bled for them.
“It is true, indeed, we are almost wasted away. The smallest of your ten thousand towns has in it more people than our whole nation. And can it then be any satisfaction to the United States to set their foot upon the neck of an old man, even now tottering into his grave? We cannot understand these things. We wish, if we must all go into the grave, and perish from the earth, to lie together in the same dust with our forefathers. The strange, unhallowed earth of other lands will press heavily upon our bosoms. It will be cold—we cannot sleep in such graves.
“We cannot flourish there if our hearts are not there—if we go against our will—if we are driven forth heart-broken and dispirited. No: men will starve and perish in the most luxuriant soil on earth if compelled to take possession of it under such circumstances. We must go contentedly—we must go cheerfully, in order to be benefited by the kind offers of the government; and, above all, we must go unitedly. The bands which held us together have been torn. Now, the flames of strife burn high between friends and brethren. If you push us off hastily together, we shall only go to devour each other till we are consumed. And even if we should not absolutely destroy each other, we could not flourish. The oak riven by the thunderbolt will not grow again. A kind, gentle [[255]]hand might transplant sprout after sprout, and raise up perhaps a forest there. But after the lightning’s shock, neither root nor branch retains the power of germinating. What harm can our remaining do you? What is the use of a few thousand acres of land to a nation like the United States? But an honorable name—the love and friendship of those whom God has placed under your care, and, above all, THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF DOING RIGHT, will be of great importance.
“Thus we have laid open our hearts to you. Our warriors, and our women and children will take their own way to make known their concurrence. We hope you will attentively consider what we have said. We have trespassed long upon your patience, but with HOME and COUNTRY,—our fathers’ graves, and the honor of the United States at stake, we could not have said less. May the Great Being who controls the counsels and destinies of nations guide you to a right decision.”
Big Kettle furnished another gratifying instance that an Indian could resist temptation, and maintain his integrity through the darkest hours of adversity and the most aggravating wrongs. There are many among his own people and among white men, who knew him, who pronounce him a greater man than Red Jacket. He lived to a later day, and felt more keenly, if this were possible, the woes which seemed to fall thicker and faster upon the Indian as years wore on. His head was always clear, for not a drop of the fire-water ever touched his lips. There was a more softened dignity in his deportment and more affability in his manners than was experienced in intercourse with Red Jacket. He had finer sensibilities, and though there is a vein of sarcasm often in his speeches, it was not so bitter as that which ran through almost every thing Red Jacket said. He remained [[256]]a Pagan to the day of his death, though he seemed to lose some of his interest in Pagan ceremonies. He endeavored earnestly to elevate his people, and promote a true spirit of morality. A distinguished statesman and infidel who proposed establishing a school for propagating infidelity, once fell into company with Big Kettle, and attempted to convince him that there was no God, and to prejudice him against the missionaries, and excite him to bitter enmity against religion; but the Indian’s trust in the Great Spirit was not moved, and though he did not understand the Christian’s God, his sagacious mind quickly discovered the fallacy of the atheist’s arguments, and he was thoroughly disgusted with his coarse manners and conversation, and the want of principle which was manifest in his motives.
He said he was led to abjure the fire-water by witnessing the evil influence of it upon his father, and the misery it introduced into their otherwise happy family.
He literally died of a broken heart. There were some among the chiefs who were in favor of the treaty, and one day in the council house, strife arose to such a height, and discussion became so warm, that tomahawks were unsheathed, and there was danger of something more terrible than a war of words. I have seen the one which gleamed in Big Kettle’s hand on that occasion, but it was allowed to do no harm, and it was this that grieved the patriotic old man more than any thing else, to see Iroquois at enmity with one another. It was not so in the days of old. Oh, how changed! The Indians were once all brethren; but now they were divided. To see them wasted was not so sad as to see them broken and degenerate. He mourned and would not be comforted, and like Logan went away into the forest, and shut himself in a lonely cabin to die. [[257]]
The missionary learned his retreat and visited him, trying to speak comfort to his spirit, but in vain. He tried also to lead him to the Christian’s God, and explain to him the Christian’s faith. But this too was vain. He said the Great Spirit had not seen fit to give the Indian the good book which white people talked about, and he would not therefore punish him for not knowing what it contained. “Big Kettle,” said he, “has never done wrong to his fellow man. Big Kettle has never taken what belonged to another—has never told a lie. The Great Spirit knows Big Kettle loves him, and he will take him to the good place when he dies.” So, firm in his trust in the Indian’s God, he departed in the year 1839, without a single fear of death, or unwillingness to go, and to the Great Spirit we will leave him. “He alone is judge.”