The two divisions of the army now came together, and after a rapid
council had been held between the commanders, continued scouring the
field in search of our enemy. Hours were spent in the search; but not
an Indian foe could be found!
Osceola had performed a piece of strategy unheard of in the annals of
war. He had carried an army of 1,600 men from between two others of
nearly equal numbers, who had completely enfiladed him, without leaving
a man upon the ground--ay, without leaving a trace of his retreat. That
host of Indian warriors, so lately observed in full battle-array, had
all at once broken up into a thousand fragments, and, as if by magic,
had melted out of sight.
The enemy was gone, we knew not whither; and the disappointed generals
once more marched their forces back to Fort King.
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The "dispersion," as it was termed, of the Indian army, was of course
chronicled as another "victory." It was a victory, however, that killed
poor old Gaines--at least his military fame--and he was only too glad to
retire from the command he had been so eager to obtain.
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A third general now took the field as commander-in-chief--an officer of
more notoriety than either of his predecessors--Scott. A lucky wound
received in the old British wars, seniority of rank, a good deal of
political buffoonery, but above all a free translation of the French
"system of tactics," with the assumption of being their author, had kept
General Scott conspicuously before the American public for a period of
twenty years [Note 1]. He who could contrive such a system of military
manoeuvring could not be otherwise than a great soldier; so reasoned his
countrymen.
Of course wonderful things were expected from the new
commander-in-chief, and great deeds were promised. He would deal with
the savages in a different way from that adopted by his predecessors; he
would soon put an end to the contemptible war.
There was much rejoicing at the appointment; and preparations were made
for a campaign on a far more extensive scale than had fallen to the lot
of either of the chiefs who preceded him. The army was doubled--almost
trebled--the commissariat amply provided for, before the great general
would consent to set foot upon the field.
He arrived at length, and the army was put in motion.
I am not going to detail the incidents of this campaign; there were none
of sufficient importance to be chronicled, much less of sufficient
interest to be narrated. It consisted simply of a series of harassing
marches, conducted with all the pomp and regularity of a parade review.
The army was formed into three divisions, somewhat bombastically styled
"right wing," "left wing," and "centre." Thus formed, they were to
approach the "Cove of the Ouithlacoochee"--again that fatal Cove--from
three different directions, Fort King, Fort Brooke, and the Saint
John's. On arriving on the edge of the great swamp, each was to fire
minute-guns as signals for the others, and then all three were to
advance in converging lines towards the heart of the Seminole fastness.
The absurd manoeuvre was carried out, and ended as might have been
expected, in complete failure. During the march, no man saw the face of
a red Indian. A few of their camps were discovered, but nothing more.
The cunning warriors had heard the signal guns, and well understood
their significance. With such a hint of the position of their enemy,
they had but little difficulty in making their retreat between the
"wings."
Perhaps the most singular, if not the most important, incident occurring
in Scott's campaign was one which came very near costing me my life. If
not worthy of being given in detail, it merits mention as a curious case
of "abandonment."
While marching for the "Cove" with his centre wing, the idea occurred to
our great commander to leave behind him, upon the banks of the Amazura,
what he termed a "post of observation." This consisted of a detachment
of forty men--mostly our Suwanee volunteers, with their proportion of
officers, myself among the number.
We were ordered to fortify ourselves on the spot, and _stay_ there until
we should be relieved from our duty, which was somewhat indefinitely
understood even by him who was placed in command of us. After giving
these orders, the general, at the head of his "central wing," marched
off, leaving us to our fate.
Our little band was sensibly alive to the perilous position in which we
were thus placed, and we at once set about making the best of it. We
felled trees, built a blockhouse, dug a well, and surrounded both with a
strong stockade.
Fortunately we were not _discovered_ by the enemy for nearly a week
after the departure of the army, else we should most certainly have been
destroyed to a man. The Indians, in all probability, had followed the
"centre wing," and thus for a time were carried out of our
neighbourhood.
On the sixth day, however, they made their appearance, and summoned us
to surrender.
We refused, and fought them--again, and again, at intervals, during a
period of fifty days!
Several of our men were killed or wounded; and among the former, the
gallant chief of our devoted band, Holloman, who fell from a shot fired
through the interstices of the stockade.
Provisions had been left with us to serve us for _two weeks_; they were
eked out to last for seven! For thirty days we subsisted upon raw corn
and water, with a few handfuls of acorns, which we contrived to gather
from the trees growing within the inclosure.
In this way we held out for a period of fifty days, and still no
commander-in-chief--no army came to relieve us. During all that gloomy
siege, we never heard word of either; no white face ever showed itself
to our anxious eyes, that gazed constantly outward. We believed
ourselves abandoned--forgotten.
And such in reality was the fact--General Scott, in his eagerness to get
away from Florida, had quite forgotten to relieve the "post of
observation;" and others believing that we had long since perished, made
no effort to send a rescue.
Death from hunger stared us in the face, until at length the brave old
hunter, Hickman, found his way through the lines of our besiegers, and
communicated our situation to our "friends at home."
His tale produced a strong excitement, and a force was dispatched to our
relief, that succeeded in dispersing our enemies, and setting us free
from our blockhouse prison.
Thus terminated "Scott's campaign," and with it his command in Florida.
The whole affair was a burlesque, and Scott was only saved from ridicule
and the disgrace of a speedy recall, by a lucky accident, that fell in
his favour. Orders had already reached him to take control of another,
"Indian war"--the "Creek"--that was just breaking out in the States of
the southwest; and this afforded the discomfited general a well-timed
excuse for retiring from the "Flowery Land."
Florida was destined to prove to American generals a land of melancholy
remembrances. No less than seven of them were successively beaten at
the game of Indian warfare by the Seminoles and their wily chieftains.
It is not my purpose to detail the history of their failures and
mishaps. From the disappearance of General Scott, I was myself no
longer with the main army. My destiny conducted me through the more
romantic by-ways of the campaign--the paths of _la petite guerre_--and
of these only am I enabled to write. Adieu, then, to the grand
historic.
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Note 1. Scott's whole career, political as well as military, had been a
series of _faux pas_. His campaign in Mexico will not bear criticism.
The numerous blunders he there committed would have led to most fatal
results, had they not been neutralised by the judgment of his inferior
officers, and the indomitable valour of the soldiery. The battle of
Moline del Rey--the armistice with Santa Anna, were military errors
unworthy of a cadet fresh from college. I make bold to affirm that
every action was a mob-fight--the result depending upon mere chance; or
rather on the desperate bravery of the troops upon one side, and the
infamous cowardice of those on the other.