In view of it he visited successively all of his most intimate friends, at their cabins, and talked with them in the most impressive and affecting manner. He told them that he was passing away, and his counsels would soon be heard no more. He ran over the history of his people, from the most remote period to which his knowledge extended, and pointed out as few could, the wrongs, the privations, and the loss of character, which almost of themselves constituted that history. "I am about to leave you," said he, "and when I am gone, and my warnings shall be no longer heard, or regarded, the craft and avarice of the white man will prevail. Many winters have I breasted the storm, but I am an aged tree, I can stand no longer. My leaves are fallen, my branches are withered, and I am shaken by every breeze. Soon my aged trunk will be prostrate, and the foot of the exulting foe of the Indian, may be placed upon it in safety; for I leave none who will be able to avenge such an indignity. Think not I mourn for myself. I go to join the spirits of my fathers, where age cannot come; but my heart fails, when I think of my people, who are soon to be scattered and forgotten."
Many noticed that his feelings at this time were greatly modified and mellowed, with respect to the stand he had taken against Christianity. His wife's example, who was a woman of humble, consistent piety, exerted a salutary, and happy influence upon him. It led him to regard Christianity more favorably, and to recede very much from the hostile position he had previously maintained. He talked of peace, and sought to bring about a reconciliation between the two parties. He convened a council with this in view. He made special preparations to attend it, dressing himself with more than ordinary care, with all his gay apparel and ornaments. He went with the intention of making what would have been his farewell speech, and giving them his last counsel.
He was taken suddenly ill at the Council-house, of cholera morbus and returned home, saying to his wife, "I am sick; I could not stay at the council, I shall never recover."
He then took off his rich costume, and laid it carefully away, reclined upon his couch, and did not rise again till morning. His wife prepared him medicine, which he took, but said, "it will do no good. I shall die."
The next day he called his wife and the little girl he loved so much, requested them to sit beside him and listen to his parting words. Addressing his wife, he said: "I am going to die, I shall never again leave this house alive. I wish to thank you for your kindness to me. You have loved me. You have always prepared my food, and taken care of my clothes, and been patient with me. I am sorry I ever treated you unkindly. I am sorry I left you, because of your new religion. I am convinced it is a good religion, and has made you a better woman, and wish you to persevere in it. I should like to live longer for your sake. I meant to build you a new house, and make you more comfortable, but it is now too late."
Addressing his daughter, he said; "I hope my daughter will remember what I have so often told her, not to go in the streets with strangers, or associate with improper persons. She must stay with her mother, and grow up a respectable woman."
He said again: "When I am dead, it will be noised abroad through all the world, they will hear of it across the great waters, and say, Red Jacket the great orator is dead. And white men will come and ask you for my body. They will wish to bury me. But do not let them take me. Clothe me in my simplest dress, put on my leggins and my moccasins, and hang the cross I have worn so long, around my neck, and let it lie upon my bosom. Then bury me among my people. Neither do I wish to be buried with Pagan rites. I wish the ceremonies to be as you like, according to the customs of your new religion, if you choose. Your minister says the dead will rise. Perhaps they will. If they do, I wish to rise with my old comrades. I do not wish to rise among pale faces. I wish to be surrounded by red men. Do not make a feast according to the customs of the Indians. Whenever my friends chose, they could come and feast with me, when I was well, and I do not wish those who have never eaten with me in my cabin, to surfeit at my funeral feast."
When he had finished he laid down on his couch and did not rise again. He lived several days but was most of the time in a stupor, or else delirious. He often asked for Mr. Harris, the missionary, and would afterward unconsciously mutter: "I do not hate him. He thinks I hate him, but I do not, I would not hurt him." The missionary was sent for repeatedly, but was from home at the time, and did not return till after the chief's death.
When the messenger told him Mr. Harris had not come, he replied: "Very well, the Great Spirit will order it as he sees best, whether I shall speak with him or not." [Footnote: Conversation of the author with Wm. Jones, Seneca chief, and sketch of Red Jacket in "The Iroquois." The account of the orator's closing hours given in this work, is more full, but in perfect accord with the statements made to the author by Mr. Jones.] Again he would murmur: "He accused me of being a snake, and trying to bite somebody. This was true, and I wish to make satisfaction."
The cross he wore was a very rich one of stones set in gold, and large; by whom it was given, his friends never knew. This is all the ornament he requested to have buried with him.