Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1856-02-05
EVENING STAR.
THE LAST HOURS OF RED JACKET


House, of cholera rhOrbus, where he had gone
that day dressed with more than ordinary care,
with all his gay apparel and ornaments.
When he returned he said TO his wife, 81 am
sick l could not stay till the Council had
finished. | shall never recover" He then
took of all his rich costume, and laid it care
fully away; reclined himself upon his couch,
and did not rise again till morning, or speak
except to answer some slight question. His
wife prepared him medicine, which he patient
ly took, but said, " 1t will do no good Ishall
die The nextd day he called her 10 him, and
requested her and the little girl he loved so
much to sit beside him, and listen to his part
ing words. t
al am going to die, ,n'he said. "I shall
never leave the house again alive. L wish 10
thank you for your kindness to me You have
LOVED me. You have always prepared ny
food, and taken care Of my clothes, and been
patient with me. L am sorry L ever treated
you unkindly. L am sorry left you because
OF your new religion, and am convinced that
1t Is good religion and has made you bet
ter woman, and wish you TO perseyerc in it.
should like to have lived n little longer for
your sake. l meant to build you a new house
and make you more comfortable but il is
now too late. But hope my daughter will
remember what l 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
''When L am dead, ii will 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 which have worn 80 long
around my neck, and let it lie upon my bosom.
Then bury me among my people. Neither do
l wish TO be buried with Pagan rites. I wish
the services TO be as you like, according to the
customs of your new religion, if you choose
Your minister says the dead will rise. Per
haps they will. If they do, wish to rise
with my old comrades l do not wish to rise
among pale faces. | wish TO be surrounded
by red men. Do not make feast according
to the customs of the Indians. Whenever my
friends choose, they could come and feast with
me when / was we'll, ard [ 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 himself again
upon the couch, and did not rise again lie
lived several days; but was most of the time
in a stupor, or else deliTious. lie often ask
ed for Nr. Harris, the missionary, and after
wards would unconsciOusly mutter-''I do not
hate him; he thinks hate him but do lot.
l would not hurt him ,
The missionary was sent for repeatedly, but
did not return till he was dead. 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 l have
an opportunity TO speak with him" Again
he would murmur, "He accused me Of being
a snake, and trying TO bite somebody. This
was very true, and wish to repent and make
satisfaction
Whether it was Mr. Harris that he referred
to all the time he was talking in this way
could not be ascertained, as he did not see,n
to comprehend if any direct question was put
to him, bnt from his remarks and his known
enmity to him, this was the natural suppOsi-
tlou. Sometimes he would think he saw some
of his old companions about him, and ex-
claim, There Is Farmer Brother, why does
he trouble newly does he stand there look
ing at me?" then he ryould again sink into
stupOr.
The wife and daughter were the only ones
to whom he spoke parting words or gave
parting blessing; but as his last hour drew
nigh, his family all gathered around him, and
mournful it was to think that his children
were not his own-his were all sleeping ia the
little church-yard where be was soon to be
laid-they were his step-children-the chill
dren of his favOrite wife
These he had always loved and cherished,
ard they loved and honOred him, for this
tneH HOtueT udu taught luem Ine WIG sat
by his pillow, and rested her hand upon his
head. at his feet stood the two sons, who
are now aged and Christian men, and by his
side the little girl, whose little hand rested
upon his withered and trembling palm His
last words were still, Where is the mission
ary?" and then he clasped the child to his
bosom, while she bbed in anguiSh-her ears
caught his hurried bresthing-his arms re
laxed their hold-she looked up, and he was
gone
He had requested that vial of cold water
might be placed in his hand when he was
prepared for the burial, but the reason of the
request no one could divine. 1t was COM
piled with, however, and all his wishes strict
ly needed. The funeral took place in the lit
tic mission church, with appropriate but the
most simple ceremonies; and he was buried
in the little mission burying ground, at the
gateway of what was an old fort-around him
his own people-aged men, sachems, chiefs
and warriors, and little children.
SHARP CORRESPONDENCE One of the Peter
Funk I" Gift Enterprise" firms in a large city,
sent a package of tickets to a postmaster in