It was further agreed that for injuries done by individuals on either side, private revenge should not take place, but that complaint be made by the injured party to the nation to which the offender belonged, and that such measures were then to be pursued as should be necessary for the preservation of peace and friendship. [Footnote: Indian Treaties. Favored with a copy by O. Parrish. Esq., of Canandaigua, N. Y.]
The conclusion of this treaty was regarded as a great point gained. Previous to this time, such of the Iroquois as remained in their ancient seats, were but partially reconciled to the United States, and were oscilating in their friendship. But henceforth they were uniformly steadfast in the allegiance they had promised.
The holding of this council was further useful in withdrawing the attention of this large body of Indians with their warriors, who had been earnestly solicited to join their hostile brethren at the West.
During the progress of the council there were several speeches made, but as they are not of special interest or importance they have not been given. Colonel Stone mentions an evening when quite a number of the chiefs dined with Colonel Pickering. He says,—"Much good humor prevailed on this occasion. The Indians laid aside their stoicism, indulged in many repartees, and manifested the keenest relish for wit and humor. Red Jacket, in particular, was conspicuous for the readiness and brilliance of his sallies." [Footnote: Col. Stone's Life and Times of Red Jacket.]
Not far from this time, and with reference it is believed to this treaty, Thomas Morris says,—"Red Jacket was, I suppose, at that time about thirty or thirty-five years of age, of middle height, well formed, with an intelligent countenance, and a fine eye; and was in all respects a fine looking man. He was the most graceful public speaker I have ever known; his manner was most dignified and easy. He was fluent, and at times witty and sarcastic. He was quick and ready at reply. He pitted himself against Colonel Pickering, whom he sometimes foiled in argument. The colonel would sometimes become irritated and lose his temper; then Red Jacket would be delighted and show his dexterity in taking advantage of any unguarded assertion of the colonel's. He felt a conscious pride in the conviction that nature had done more for him, than for his antagonist."
"A year or two after this treaty, when Colonel Pickering from post master general, became secretary of war, I informed Red Jacket of his promotion. —'Ah!' said he,—'We began our public career about the same time; he knew how to read and write; I did not, and he has got ahead of me.—If I had known how to read and write I should have got ahead of him.'"
CHAPTER XI.
Valley of the Genesee—Indian misgivings—Mill yard—Effort to obtain
their land—Council at Big Tree—Coming of the Wadsworths—Indian villages
—Refusal to sell—Discussion between Red Jacket and Thomas Morris—
Breaking up of the Council.
The valley of the Genesee was a favorite resort of the Indian. His trail led along its banks and brought him at short intervals to Indian villages, or the head-quarters of Indian chiefs. Its flats were broad and beautiful, and were bordered on either side by hills that rose gradually to their summit, where they stretched out into extensive table lands. These hills, as we ascend the valley gradually become higher and higher, until we are brought into the vicinity of mountain elevations, where the scenery becomes very romantic, and the country much broken. The valley itself is almost of uniform width from its commencement, a few miles south of the city of Rochester, to the pleasant and thriving village of Mount Morris. Here these flats which are quite extensive and exceedingly rich and beautiful, appear to leave the river and follow its tributary, the Canaseraga, to a point about sixteen miles above; diminishing somewhat in width as they ascend, until they come near the present village of Dansville, where the hills again recede and forming a large basin, enclose it on the south, presenting the appearance of a magnificent amphitheater.
The Canaseraga is here joined by two streams, Stony Brook and Mill Creek, which flow down from the highlands beyond, over precipices, and through gorges deep and wild, where rugged cliffs defying all attempts at culture, rise abruptly at times, from one to three hundred feet on either side. The Indian's trail conducted him to these wilds, which still remain the most unchanged of all his ancient haunts. Here are solitudes seldom visited by man, where are treasured sublimities that enchain the mind, and inspire a feeling of devotion in the heart of the beholder. Here the Indian, undisturbed by other sights or sounds, may yet listen to the voice of the waterfall as it sounded in the ear of his fathers, or to the gentle murmur of the stream discoursing now, as it did to them, in passing hurriedly over its rocky bed. [Footnote: Who would ever suspect that a railroad would stride across any of these deep chasms? How presumptuous.]