His parents were of the Seneca tribe, the most western of the Iroquois confederation, and lived at Can-e-de-sa-ga, a large Indian village on the present site of Geneva.
At the time of his birth, owing to scarcity of game, his parents, with others, were hunting on the west shore of Cayuga Lake. The locality has been purchased by Judge Sackett, of Seneca Falls, who derived the statement here quoted from the great orator himself. When interrogated about his birthplace the sachem would answer, counting on his fingers as he spoke, "One, two, three, four above John Harris," meaning four miles above where Harris kept his ferry across the Cayuga, before the erection of the bridge.
The orator, whose eloquence was the pride of the race, and the special glory of the Senecas, owed nothing to the advantages of illustrious descent, but was of humble parentage. He was a Cayuga on his father's side, and the Cayugas claim to have been a thoughtful and far-seeing people. The fact of his possessing wonderful eloquence was never disputed at any time. The name which Red Jacket received in his infancy was O-te-tiana, and signified "Always Ready." According to the custom of his people, when he became chief he took another—Sa-go-ye-wat-ha,—which means "The Keeper Awake."
But little is known of his history until the campaign of Sullivan, when Red Jacket must have been about twenty-nine years of age.
Tradition says that he was remarkably swift in the chase and possessed a marvelous power of endurance. For these reasons, he was very successful in hunting. On account of his fleetness he was often employed as a messenger or "runner" by his people in his youth, and afterward in a like capacity by the British officers during the Revolution.
According to Mr. Stone, the learned Indian biographist, Sa-go-ye-wat-ha obtained the name of Red Jacket from the following circumstance: "During the War of the Revolution he made himself very useful to the British officers as a messenger. He was doubtless the more so because of his intelligence and gift for oratory. In return for his services the officers presented the young man with a scarlet jacket, very richly embroidered." One can imagine the immense pride with which the "Young Prince of the Wolf Clan," as his admiring people were accustomed to call him, donned this brilliant garment. He took such delight in the jacket that he was kept in such garments by the British officers during the Revolution. This peculiar dress became a mark of distinction and gave him the name by which he was afterward best known. Even after the war, when the Americans wished to find a way to his heart, they clothed his back with a red jacket.
It has been almost the universal testimony of books that Red Jacket, the Indian orator, like the two greatest of the ancient world, Demosthenes and Cicero, was a coward. This inference has been drawn very naturally, perhaps, from the fact that he generally, but not always, opposed war and seldom wielded the tomahawk. But the old men of his nation, who knew him best and the motives from which he acted, deny the charge. Many even asserted that he was brave, though prudent, and not at all lacking in the qualities they admire in a warrior. They assign other reasons for his persistent opposition to war, and maintain that his superior sagacity led him to see its consequences to the Indian.
In the Revolutionary contest the red men generally enlisted on the side of the British, believing it to be for their interests. They could not understand anything of the real nature of the controversy of the two rival powers, and were justifiable in studying their own interest alone. In taking the British side the Iroquois were strongly influenced by the Johnsons, the Tory leaders of New York, and their powerful ally, Captain Joseph Brant, the great war-chief of the Mohawks. But it was all done in spite of the eloquent protest of Red Jacket. "Let them alone," said the wise man and orator. "Let us remain upon our lands and take care of ourselves. What have the English done for us?" he exclaimed, drawing his proud form to its fullest height and pointing with the zeal of despair toward the winding Mohawk, "that we should become homeless and helpless wanderers for their sakes?"
But his motives were impugned and misunderstood. Some of his own warriors called him a coward and promptly followed Cornplanter and Brant to battle. These two chiefs seemed to have had a contempt for Red Jacket because of his supposed cowardice. They nicknamed him Cow-Killer, and often told with much gusto a story at his expense. This story was to the effect that at the commencement of the Revolutionary War, the young chief, with his usual eloquence, exhorted the Indians to courage, and promised to be with them in the thickest of the fight. When the battle came off, however, he was missing, having stayed at home to cut up a cow which he had captured. This story, with the speech just quoted in opposition to war, tended to convince many of the Indians that the Seneca sachem was a coward.