For some weeks following the council at Fort King, there appeared to be
tranquillity over the land. The hour of negotiation had passed--that
for action was nigh; and among the white settlers the leading topic of
conversation was how the Indians would act? Would they fight, or give
in? The majority believed they would submit.
Some time was granted them to prepare for the removal--runners were sent
to all the tribes, appointing a day for them to bring in their horses
and cattle to the fort. These were to be sold by auction, under the
superintendence of the agent; and their owners were to receive a fair
value for them on their arrival at their new home in the west. Their
plantations or "improvements" were to be disposed of in a similar
manner.
The day of auction came round; but, to the chagrin of the commissioner,
the expected flocks did not make their appearance, and the sale had to
be postponed.
The failure on the part of the Indians to bring in their cattle was a
hint of what might be expected; though others, of a still more palpable
nature, were soon afforded.
The tranquillity that had reigned for some weeks was but the ominous
silence that precedes the storm. Like the low mutterings of the distant
thunder, events now began to occur, the sure harbingers of an
approaching conflict.
As usual, the white man was the aggressor. Three Indians were found
hunting outside the boundary of the "reserve." They were made captives
by a party of white men, and, fast bound with raw-hide ropes, were
confined in a log-stable belonging to one of the party. In this
situation they were kept three days and nights, until a band of their
own tribe hearing of their confinement, hastened to their rescue. There
was a skirmish, in which some Indians were wounded; but the white men
fled, and the captives were released.
"On bringing them forth to the light, their friends beheld a most
pitiable sight,"--I am quoting from a faithful history--"the rope with
which these poor fellows were tied had worn through the flesh: they had
temporarily lost the use of their limbs, being unable to stand or walk.
They had bled profusely, and had received no food during their
confinement; so it may readily be imagined that they presented a
horrible picture of suffering."
Again: "Six Indians were at their camp near Kanapaha Pond, when a party
of whites came upon them, took their guns from them, examined their
packs, and commenced whipping them. While in the act, two other Indians
approached, and seeing what was going on, fired upon the whites. The
latter returned the fire, killed one of the Indians, and severely
wounded the other."
Exasperation was natural--retaliation certain. On the other side, read:
"On the 11th of August, Dalton, the mail-carrier between Fort King and
Fort Brooke, was met within six miles of the latter place by a party of
Indians, who seized the reins of his horse, and dragging him from the
saddle, shot him dead. The mangled body was discovered some days
afterwards concealed in the woods."
"A party of fourteen mounted men proceeded on a scout towards
Wacahonta--the plantation of Captain Gabriel Priest--and when within one
mile of the place, they came upon a small hommock, through which some of
the party declined passing. Four of them, however, dashed into it, when
the Indians suddenly arose from ambush, and fired upon them. The two in
advance were wounded. A Mr Foulke received a bullet in his neck, but
was picked up by those in his rear, and borne off. The other, a son of
Captain Priest, had his arm broken, and his horse shot dead under him.
He fled, and sinking his body in a swamp, succeeded in eluding the
search of the pursuers."
"About the same time, a party of Indians attacked a number of men who
were employed cutting live-oak timber on an island in Lake George. The
men escaped by taking to their boats, though two of their number were
wounded."
"At New River, on the south-east side of the peninsula, the Indians
attacked the house of a Mr Cooley--murdered his wife, children, and a
tutor engaged in the family. They carried off twelve barrels of
provisions, thirty hogs, three horses, one keg of powder, over two
hundred pounds of lead, seven hundred dollars in silver, and two
negroes. Mr Cooley was absent at the time. On his return, he found
his wife shot through the heart with her infant child in her arms, and
his two oldest children also shot in the same place. The girl still
held her book in her hands, and the boy's lay by his side. The house
was in flames."
"At Spring Garden, on the Saint Johns, the extensive plantation of
Colonel Rees was laid waste, and his buildings burnt to the ground.
Sugar-cane, sufficient to manufacture ninety hogsheads, was destroyed;
besides thirty hogsheads of sugar, and _one hundred and sixty-two
negroes were carried off_. The mules and horses were also taken. The
same Indians destroyed the buildings of M. Depeyster, with _whose
negroes they formed a league_; and being supplied with a boat, they
crossed the river and fired the establishment of Captain Dummett. Major
Heriot's plantation was laid waste, and _eighty of his negroes moved off
with the Indians_. Then on towards San Augustine, where the extensive
plantations of General Hernandez were reduced to a ruin; next, Bulow's,
Dupont's of Buen Retiro, Dunham's, McRae's of Tomoka Creek, the
plantations of Bayas, General Herring, and Bartalone Solano, with nearly
every other from San Augustine southward."
Simple historic facts. I quote them as illustrating the events that
ushered in the Seminole war. Barbarous though they be, they were but
acts of retaliation--the wild outburst of a vengeance long pent up--a
return for wrongs and insults patiently endured.
As yet, no general engagement had taken place; but marauding parties
sprang up simultaneously in different places. Many of those who had
inflicted outrage upon the Indians were forthwith repaid; and many
barely escaped with their lives. Conflagration succeeded conflagration,
until the whole country was on fire. Those who lived in the interior,
or upon the borders of the Indian reserve, were compelled to abandon
their crops, their stock, their implements of husbandly, their
furniture, and indeed every article of value, and seek shelter within
the forts, or concentrate themselves in the neighbouring villages,
around which stockades were erected for their better security.
The friendly chiefs--the Omatlas and others--with about four hundred
followers, abandoned their towns, and fled to Fort Brooke for
protection.
The strife was no longer hypothetical, no longer doubtful; it was
declared in the wild _Yo-ho-ehee_! that night and day was heard ringing
in the woods.