The word "fort" calls up before the mind a massive structure, with
angles and embrasures, bastions and battlements, curtains, casemates,
and glacis--a place of great strength, for this is its essential
signification. Such structures have the Spaniards raised in Florida as
elsewhere--some of which [Note 1] are still standing, while others, even
in their ruins, bear witness to the grandeur and glory that enveloped
them at that time, when the leopard flag waved proudly above their
walls.
There is a remarkable dissimilarity between the colonial architecture of
Spain and that of other European nations. In America the Spaniards
built without regard to pains or expense, as if they believed that their
tenure would be eternal. Even in Florida, they could have no idea their
lease would be so short--no forecast of so early an ejectment.
After all, these great fortresses served them a purpose. But for their
protection, the dark Yamassee, and, after him, the conquering Seminole,
would have driven them from the flowery peninsula long before the period
of their actual rendition.
The United States has its great stone fortresses; but far different from
these are the "forts" of frontier phraseology, which figure in the story
of border wars, and which, at this hour, gird the territory of the
United States as with a gigantic chain. In these are no grand
battlements of cut rock, no costly casemates, no idle ornaments of
engineering. They are rude erections of hewn logs, of temporary intent,
put up at little expense, to be abandoned with as little loss--ready to
follow the ever-flitting frontier in its rapid recession.
Such structures are admirably adapted to the purpose which they are
required to serve. They are types of the utilitarian spirit of a
republican government, not permitted to squander national wealth on such
costly toys as Thames Tunnels and Britannia Bridges, at the expense of
an overtaxed people. To fortify against an Indian enemy, proceed as
follows:
Obtain a few hundred trees; cut them into lengths of eighteen feet;
split them up the middle; set them in a quadrangle, side by side, flat
faces inward; batten them together; point them at the tops; loophole
eight feet from the ground; place a staging under the loopholes; dig a
ditch outside; build a pair of bastions at alternate corners, in which
plant your cannon; hang a strong gate and you have a "frontier fort."
It may be a triangle, a quadrangle, or any other polygon best suited to
the ground.
You need quarters for your troops and stores. Build strong blockhouses
within the enclosure--some at the angles, if you please; loophole them
also--against the contingency of the stockade being carried; and, this
done, your fort is finished.
Pine trees serve well. Their tall, branchless stems are readily cut and
split to the proper lengths; but in Florida is found a timber still
better for the purpose--in the trunk of the "cabbage-palm" [_Chamaerops
palmetto_]. These, from the peculiarity of their endogenous texture,
are less liable to be shattered by shot, and the bullet buries itself
harmlessly in the wood. Of such materials was Fort King.
Fancy, then, such a stockade fort. People it with a few hundred
soldiers--some in jacket uniforms of faded sky-colour, with white
facings, sadly dimmed with dirt (the infantry); some in darker blue,
bestriped with red (artillery); a few adorned with the more showy yellow
(the dragoons); and still another few in the sombre green of the rifles.
Fancy these men lounging about or standing in groups, in slouched
attitudes, and slouchingly attired--a few of tidier aspect, with
pipe-clayed belts and bayonets by their sides, on sentry, or forming the
daily guard--some half-score of slattern women, their laundress-wives,
mingling with a like number of brown-skinned squaws--a sprinkling of
squalling brats--here and there an officer hurrying along, distinguished
by his dark-blue undress frock [Note 2]--half-a-dozen gentlemen in
civilian garb--visitors, or non-military _attaches_ of the fort--a score
less gentle-looking--sutlers, beef-contractors, drovers, butchers,
guides, hunters, gamblers, and idlers--some negro servants and friendly
Indians--perhaps the pompous commissioner himself--fancy all these
before you, with the star-spangled flag waving above your head, and you
have the _coup d'oeil_ that presented itself as I rode into the gateway
of Fort King.
Of late not much used to the saddle, the ride had fatigued me. I heard
the _reveille_, but not yet being ordered on duty, I disregarded the
call, and kept my bed till a later hour.
The notes of a bugle bursting through the open window, and the quick
rolling of drums, once more awoke me. I recognised the parade music,
and sprang from my couch. Jake at this moment entered to assist me in
my toilet.
"Golly, Massr George!" he exclaimed, pointing out by the window; "lookee
dar! darts tha whole Indyen ob tha Seminole nayshun--ebbery red skin dar
be in ole Floridy. Whugh!"
I looked forth. The scene was picturesque and impressive. Inside the
stockade, soldiers were hurrying to and fro--the different companies
forming for parade. They were no longer, as on the evening before,
slouched and loosely attired; but, with jackets close buttoned, caps
jauntily cocked, belts pipe-clayed to a snowy whiteness, guns, bayonets,
and buttons gleaming under the sunlight, they presented a fine military
aspect. Officers were moving among them, distinguished by their more
splendid uniforms and shining epaulets; and a little apart stood the
general himself, surrounded by his staff, conspicuous under large black
chapeaus with nodding plumes of cock's feathers, white and scarlet.
Alongside the general was the commissioner--himself a general--in full
government uniform.
This grand display was intended for effect on the minds of the Indians.
There were several well-dressed civilians within the enclosure, planters
from the neighbourhood, among whom I recognised the Ringgolds.
So far the impressive. The picturesque lay beyond the stockade.
On the level plain that stretched to a distance of several hundred yards
in front, were groups of tall Indian warriors, attired in their savage
finery--turbaned, painted, and plumed. No two were dressed exactly
alike, and yet there was a similarity in the style of all. Some wore
hunting-shirts of buckskin, with leggings and moccasins of like
material--all profusely fringed, beaded, and tasselled; others were clad
in tunics of printed cotton stuff, checked or flowered, with leggings of
cloth, blue, green, or scarlet, reaching from hip to ankle, and girt
below the knee with bead-embroidered gaiters, whose tagged and tasselled
ends hung down the outside of the leg. The gorgeous wampum belt
encircled their waists, behind which were stuck their long knives,
tomahawks, and, in some instances, pistols, glittering with a rich inlay
of silver--relics left them by the Spaniards. Some, instead of the
Indian wampum, encircled their waists with the Spanish scarf of scarlet
silk, its fringed extremities hanging square with the skirt of the
tunic, adding gracefulness to the garment. A picturesque head-dress was
not wanting to complete the striking costume; and in this the variety
was still greater. Some wore the beautiful coronet of plumes--the
feathers stained to a variety of brilliant hues; some the "toque" of
checked "bandanna;" while others wore shako-like caps of fur--of the
black squirrel, the bay lynx, or raccoon--the face of the animal often
fantastically set to the front. The heads of many were covered with
broad fillets of embroidered wampum, out of which stood the wing plumes
of the king vulture, or the gossamer feathers of the sand-hill crane. A
few were still further distinguished by the nodding plumes of the great
bird of Afric.
All carried guns--the long rifle of the backwoods hunter, with horns and
pouches slung from their shoulders. Neither bow nor arrow was to be
seen, except in the hands of the youth--many of whom were upon the
ground, mingling with the warriors.
Further off, I could see tents, where the Indians had pitched their
camp. They were not together, but scattered along the edge of the wood,
here and there, in clusters, with banners floating in front--denoting
the different clans or sub-tribes to which each belonged.
Women in their long frocks could be seen moving among the tents, and
little dark-skinned "papooses" were playing over the grassy sward in
front of them.
When I first saw them, the warriors were assembling in front of the
stockade. Some had already arrived, and stood in little crowds,
conversing, while others strode over the ground, passing from group to
group, as if bearing words of council from one to the other.
I could not help observing the upright carriage of these magnificent
men. I could not help admiring their full, free port, and contrasting
it with the gingerly step of the drilled soldier! No eye could have
looked upon them without acknowledging this superiority of the _savage_.
As I glanced along the line of Saxon and Celtic soldiery--starched and
stiff as they stood, shoulder to shoulder, and heel to heel--and then
looked upon the plumed warriors without, as they proudly strode over the
sward of their native soil, I could not help the reflection, that to
conquer these men we must needs _outnumber_ them!
I should have been laughed at had I given expression to the thought. It
was contrary to all experience--contrary to the burden of many a
boasting legend of the borders. The Indian had always succumbed; but
was it to the superior strength and courage of his white antagonist?
No: the inequality lay in numbers--oftener in arms. This was the secret
of our superiority. What could avail the wet bowstring and ill-aimed
shaft against the death-dealing bullet of the rifle?
There was no inequality now. Those hunter warriors carried the
fire-weapon, and could handle it as skillfully as we.
The Indians now formed into a half-circle in front of the fort. The
chiefs, having aligned themselves so as to form the concave side of the
curve, sat down upon the grass. Behind them the sub-chiefs and more
noted warriors took their places, and still further back, in rank after
rank, stood the common men of the tribes. Even the women and boys drew
near, clustering thickly behind, and regarding the movements of the men
with quiet but eager interest.
Contrary to their usual habits, they were grave and silent. It is not
their character to be so; for the Seminole is as free of speech and
laughter as the clown of the circus ring; even the light-hearted negro
scarcely equals him in jovialty.
It was not so now, but the very reverse. Chiefs, warriors and women--
even the boys who had just forsaken their play--all wore an aspect of
solemnity.
No wonder. That was no ordinary assemblage--no meeting upon a trivial
matter--but a council at which was to be decided one of the dearest
interests of their lives--a council whose decree might part them forever
from their native land. No wonder they did not exhibit their habitual
gaiety.
It is not correct to say that all looked grave. In that semi-circle of
chiefs were men of opposite views. There were those who wished for the
removal--who had private reasons to desire it--men bribed, suborned, or
tampered with--traitors to their tribe and nation.
These were neither weak nor few. Some of the most powerful chiefs had
been bought over, and had agreed to sell the rights of their people.
Their treason was known or suspected, and this it was that was causing
the anxiety of the others. Had it been otherwise--had there been no
division in the ranks--the patriot party might easily have obtained a
triumphant decision; but they feared the defection of traitors.
The band had struck up a march--the troops were in motion, and filing
through the gate.
Hurrying on my uniform, I hastened out; and took my place among the
staff of the general.
A few minutes after we were on the ground, face to face with the
assembled chiefs.
The troops formed in line, the general taking his stand in front of the
colours, with the commissioner by his side. Behind these were grouped
the officers of the staff with clerks, interpreters, and some civilians
of note--the Ringgolds, and others--who by courtesy were to take part in
the proceedings.
Hands were shaken between the officers and chiefs; the friendly calumet
was passed round; and the council at length inaugurated.
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Note 1. Forts Piscolata on the Saint Johns, Fort San Augustine, and
others, at Pensacola, Saint Marks, and elsewhere.
Note 2. An American officer is rarely to be seen in full uniform--still
more rarely when on campaigning service, as in Florida.