authorities to let them and their people stay in southern Florida if
they would agree to keep their tribes at peace, guard the frontier, and
themselves accompany him to Washington. Micanopy showed a little
distrust when he heard the proposition, but Osceola took off his proud
head dress and removing one of the beautiful plumes from it handed it to
the man who had betrayed him, saying simply: "Give this to my white
father to show him that Osceola will do as you have said."
The suggestion made by General Jesup was not considered favorably by the
government, but he was instructed to carry out the Jackson policy of
transportation. He had collected so many captives at St. Augustine that
he feared trouble and decided to separate them. He sent all the negroes
to Tampa and the Indians to Charleston, S. C. Late in December the
Indians were shipped on the steamer Poinsett. Among them were Osceola,
Micanopy, Alligator and Cloud. Besides the chiefs one hundred and
sixteen warriors and eighty-two women and children were sent to Fort
Moultrie. Osceola's two wives and little daughters were in the company.
They arrived at Charleston on the first day of January, 1838, after a
quiet voyage.
At Fort Moultrie, Osceola was treated with much consideration; he was
allowed to walk about the enclosure and to receive visitors in his room.
Still he ate little and every day grew more wan and thin. All the chiefs
were so low-spirited that great efforts were made to cheer them. A very
popular actress was then playing at the Charleston theater, and knowing
the Indian's love of whatever is gay and spectacular, the authorities at
the fort decided to take the chiefs to the theater on the sixth of
January.
Public sympathy had been excited by reports of the capture,
imprisonment, and failing health of the once terrible Osceola. The
theater was crowded with Charleston people more anxious to see the chief
than the beautiful actress. The Indians were led into the brilliantly
lighted hall filled with staring men and women. They looked neither to
the right nor to the left, but took their places in quiet and watched
with steady eyes and unsmiling faces the entertainment provided for
them. Osceola had made no objection to coming, but he sat amidst the
mirth and glamor, so sad and stern that those who had brought him there
and those who had come to see him felt rebuked. His trouble was too real
to be easily comforted, too deep to be an amusing spectacle. The papers
of the day recorded the strange scene of the captive Osceola at the play
in poetry and prose.
Later an incident happened in which Osceola took some interest. George
Catlin, who had traveled for several years among the Indians and was
regarded by them as a friend, came to the fort to paint the portraits of
the chiefs for the United States government. When Mr. Catlin asked
Osceola if he might paint his portrait the latter seemed greatly
pleased. He arrayed himself in his gayest calico hunting shirt, his
splendid plumed turban, and all his ornaments, and stood patiently while
the artist worked. Mr. Catlin enjoyed painting the fine head, with its
high forehead and clear eye. He made two portraits of Osceola, both of
which are now in the collection of Indian portraits at the Smithsonian
Institution, in Washington.
Mr. Catlin came to be well acquainted with the chiefs whose portraits he
painted, and used to have them come to his room in the evenings, where
they all talked with great freedom. He felt deep sympathy for Osceola,
who told him all the details of his capture. When Osceola learned that
Mr. Catlin had been west of the Mississippi he asked him many questions
about the country and the Indians living there.
But every day Osceola's health grew more feeble and, on the day when the
second portrait was finished, he became so ill that he was thought to be
dying. He rallied, however, and when Mr. Catlin left a few days later,
it was with the hope that Osceola would regain his health and strength.
He requested the fort doctor to keep him informed about the chief's
condition.
XII. THE END
The day after George Catlin left Fort Moultrie, Osceola had a severe
attack of throat trouble. He refused to take the doctor's medicine. A
Seminole medicine man came and gave the sick man Indian remedies.
Osceola's wives nursed him tenderly, but in spite of all they could do
he grew rapidly worse and died on the thirtieth of January, 1838, after
three months of captivity.
Dr. Wheedon sent the following interesting account of his death to Mr.
Catlin:
[Illustration: "MEDICINE MAN"]
"About half an hour before he died, he seemed to be sensible that he was
dying; and, although he could not speak, he signified by signs that he
wished me to send for the chiefs and for the officers of the post, whom
I called in. He made signs to his wives by his side, to go and bring his
full dress which he wore in time of war; which having been brought in,
he rose up in his bed, which was on the floor, and put on his shirt, his
leggings and his moccasins, girded on his war belt, bullet-pouch and
powder-horn, and laid his knife by the side of him on the floor.
"He then called for his red paint and looking-glass, which latter was
held before him. Then he deliberately painted one half of his face, his
neck, and his throat with vermilion, a custom practised when the
irrevocable oath of war and destruction is taken. His knife he then
placed in its sheath under his belt, and he carefully arranged his
turban on his head and his three ostrich plumes that he was in the habit
of wearing in it.
"Being thus prepared in full dress, he lay down a few moments to recover
strength sufficient, when he rose up as before, and with most benignant
and pleasing smiles, extended his hand to me and to all of the officers
and chiefs that were around him, and shook hands with us all in dead
silence, and with his wives and little children.
"He made a signal for them to lower him down upon his bed, which was
done, and he then slowly drew from his war-belt his scalping-knife,
which he firmly grasped in his right hand, laying it across the other on
his breast, and in a moment smiled away his last breath without a
struggle or a groan."
Osceola was buried with some ceremony near the fort. Officers attended
his funeral and a military salute was fired over his grave. This show of
respect comforted a little the grief-stricken friends of the chief.
It is said that Osceola was not allowed to rest in peace, even in death.
A few nights after his burial men of the race that despised him as a
barbarian came by night, opened his grave and cut his head from his
body. But openly only respect was shown to the remains of the greatest
chief of the Seminoles. His grave was inclosed with an iron railing and
marked with a stone bearing the following inscription:
Osceola,
Patriot and Warrior,
Died at Fort Moultrie,
January 30, 1838.
[Illustration: REMOVAL OF SOUTHERN INDIANS]
The war did not close with the death of Osceola. Wild Cat took command
and the trouble continued till 1842. During the war the Seminoles lost
many brave warriors; several thousand Indians and five hundred of their
allies were driven from their homes in Florida to a strange land which
they were obliged to share with their old enemies, the Creeks.
The white men gained the lands of the Indians, a vast and rich new
territory for settlement, removed a refuge for runaway slaves, and
established peace on the Southern frontier. For these gains, however,
they had paid a heavy price in treasure, in human lives, and in honor.
END