It was with some effort he recovered again the use of his own native tongue. During his captivity he had acquired and could speak fluently, the language of five different tribes, and his qualifications as an interpreter, together with his known faithfulness and integrity, coming to the knowledge of our government, he received an appointment in the Indian service, and during the greater part of his subsequent life, was actively employed in business relating to the welfare of the Indians. He died at his residence in Canandaigua, July 12th, 1836, in the sixty-ninth year of his age.
Captain Horatio Jones, was a native of Chester county, Pennsylvania. At the age of sixteen he enlisted as a volunteer, in a company commanded by Captain John Boyd. It was when the Indians, led by the notorious Butler, Brant, and Nellis, were committing their depredations and massacres among the settlers of the frontier, sparing neither age nor sex, from the tomahawk and scalping knife. With the ardor of youth he engaged in the active employments of a soldier, and accompanied Captain Boyd on several important and dangerous expeditions, in which himself and commander had the good fortune to escape unhurt.
At length in the spring of 1781, while Captain Boyd and his men, numbering thirty-two, were in pursuit of Nellis, they were surprised by a large party of Indians, who killed about half their number, and of the rest took eight prisoners, Jones and his commanding officer being among the number. The Indians conducted them to their towns on the Genesee river, where they had to run the gauntlet, and having passed with safety through this trying ordeal, they next came near losing their lives in a savage frolic. The warriors, on returning from their excursion, gave themselves up to drinking and merriment. Partaking freely of the intoxicating bowl, they soon became much excited, and the ferocity, which a time of war engenders, was thoroughly aroused among them. One of the prisoners they killed, and severing his head from the body, carried it about the camp, on the end of a pole, with wild shouts and frantic yells.
They next meditated the death of Boyd and Jones, and while discussing the manner in which they would have them suffer, a few squaws conveyed them away and hid them. Jones was subsequently adopted into an Indian family, became familiar with their customs and language, and after the declaration of peace, was appointed by President Washington as Indian interpreter, the duties of which office he discharged with fidelity, until within a year or two of his death.
Mr. Jones was about the ordinary stature, firmly built, and qualified by nature for duties requiring activity and endurance. Possessing uncommon mental vigor, and quick perception, he was enabled to form a just estimate of character, and determine with readiness the springs of human action. His bravery, physical power, energy and decision of character, gave him great command over the Indians with whom he was associated, and having their entire confidence, he was enabled to render the government invaluable service in her treaties with the northern and north-western tribes. He was a favorite interpreter of Red Jacket, and his style is said to have been energetic, graphic, and chaste. He died at his residence near Genesee, on the 18th of August, 1836.
It was not far from the time of this council at Canawangus that Red Jacket visited Hartford, Conn.
In the adjustment of the land difficulties between the states of Connecticut and Pennsylvania, owing to the indefinite terms of their original charters, Connecticut obtained, as we have seen, a title to that part of Ohio, called Western Reserve. The Senecas laying claim to this, on the ground of conquest, negotiations were entered into with them for the extinguishment of their title. This was the occasion of the orator's visit, concerning which there is but a very brief record. His appearance, however, has been spoken of in terms of high commendation, and a single passage only of the speech he made on that occasion has been preserved.
"We stand,"—said he, when representing the condition of his people,—"a small island in the bosom of the great waters. We are encircled,—we are encompassed. The evil spirit rides upon the blast, and the waters are disturbed. They rise, they press upon us, and the waves once settled over us, we disappear forever. Who then lives to mourn us? None. What marks our extermination? Nothing. We are mingled with the common elements."
The entire speech was listened to with feelings of profound admiration, and his action elicited praise for its dignity and grace. He entered the august assemblage, before which he was called to appear, with a step measured, firm and dignified,—a countenance erect, bold and discursive,— without manifesting surprise, fear or curiosity; and his effort sustaining fully his high reputation as an orator, made the occasion one of great interest, to those whom it had been the means of bringing together, or who had been attracted by curiosity, to see one whose fame had reached the land of steady habits. [Footnote: Col. Stone, from collections by J. W. Moulton.]