[Granville-Hough] 25 Nov 2009 - Chitto "Crazy Snake" Harjo

[Trustees for Granville W. Hough]

Date: Wed, 25 Nov 2009 09:55:08 -0800
From: Granville W Hough <gwhough at oakapple.net>
Subject: Chitto "Crazy Snake" Harjo -25 Nov 2009

    *One of the things one notes near Henryetta, OK, is that it seems 
half the Creek Indian families have the surname of Harjo.  That is 
entirely fitting as one of the last heroes of the tribe was a member of 
a large family or clan, and his name was Chitto Harjo, otherwise known 
as "Crazy Snake."  In 1909, he inadvertently led a rebellion against the 
white intruders of his tribal lands which was called the "Smoked Meat 
Rebellion."  The whole effort was recorded in a poem written by Judge 
John H. Lincoln, who about that time was also a member of the new state 
legislature charged with writing the constitution of that state.  (Judge 
Lincoln was grandfather of Carol L. (Steckelberg) Hough, but he died 
soon after she was born.  She could only remember her widowed 
grandmother.  I have never seen the entire poem written by Judge 
Lincoln, but it is said to be better history than the newspapers of the 
time.  It is not exactly clear where his sympathies lay.)

CHITTO "CRAZY SNAKE" HARJO

In days gone by I knew a Chief
And he was not unknown to fame;
His deeds approach once unbelief,
and Chitto Harjo was his name.

In form he was of rugged mold,
The strength of Hercules did wield;
An eagle eye, 'twas black and bold,
While raven locks his temples shield.

He roamed the happy hunting grounds,
where Deep Fork's muddy waters roll.
To him ambition had no bounds,
And tribal chieftainship his goal.

In early life, he rose to note,
And in the House of Warriors led,
On every law he had a vote --
With eloquence he spoke, 'tis said.

O, many, many times he spoke
To fancied crowds - a mere pretense -
The alliance of the forest broke
With golden words of eloquence.

And every pine that stood beside,
Or on, fair Tuledega's hills,
Would see to how iu silent pride
While eloquence the forest fills.

The spawning fish would stop to hear
That magic voice and quiet lay
As though without a single fear,
Enthrall'd by all that he might say.

"Twas him that did the law propose
The punishment of death to give.
A leader of revolt, while those
Of lesser part, the lash receive.

For peace, most eloquent was he,
A patriot so firm he stood.
His motive was now known to be -
He sought Spi-ech-chi's blood. 

If Chitto had his plans matured
And by his skill the war delayed,
Expectant thousands had assured
That signal light to be displayed.

For fifteen months that vigil kept
What Plastic nature then withstood
That blazing mandate of the Gods
To drench the land with rival blood.

It seems that Fate did cause the theft
Of pork, which did the priceless gem
 From deep laid studied plans bereft,
The Red-Man's 'Star of Bethlehem.'

O, Chittos Ghost! Hast thou found rest
And doth the "Pale Face" still pursue?
Thy Peopls good was e'er thy quest;
What more could noble mortals do:

"Twas cruel Fate decreed thy lot
With all thy faults the world must own
A monument would mark the spot,
Were not thy resting place unknown.

And Chitto's fame we now record
And he a place in legend takes
But Charity thy worth accord
Farewell, thou last of all the Snakes.

As for the verses about the actual fighting after the Smokehouse meat 
was stolen, it is not clear how they fit into the overall saga, or it 
there were separate poems. Sheriff Patty was leader of the local 
militia.  Henchee, Perk, Morey, and Fowler were other Henryetta characters.

And Patty, he was everywhere
As clear above the rifle's roar
His voice was heard.  A lion's share
he took.  A hero's part he bore.

It seems E'en now I heard the cry
Charge Hinchee, charge and charge them now
A Warrior's death then shall thou die -
Or wear the laurel on thy brow.

Lead on Old Perk and let them know
'Tis lead, not pills you're shooting now;
When Perkins leads the blood must flow
'Tis death or laurel on thy brow.

Hey, Morey come, and lead them all
Let every man now in the fray
With courage win - or else we fall
For NO RESERVES there'll be today.

"Twas in the fight that Morey led
When each, determined to excel,
that Fate, some Braves foul bullet sped -
A martyr made - Brave Fowler fell.

The state militia were thirsty for more action, so they set up camp in 
the Creek meeting place called Hickory Grounds.

In Hickory Ground, their tents erect
where Chitto's tents so late had been
The ravages of war inspect,
The dead inter --the camp they clean.

-------------------------------------------------

And the Harjos of the Snake Clan of the Creeks live on.  May they all 
have a Happy Thanksgiving with all the Smoked Meat they can eat!!  Granpa.