FLORIDA INDIAN WAR: ITS ORIGIN AND CONDUCT.
This was one of the most troublesome, expensive and unmanageable
Indian wars in which the United States had been engaged; and
from the length of time which it continued, the amount of money
it cost, and the difficulty of obtaining results, it became a
convenient handle of attack upon the administration; and in
which party spirit, in pursuit of its object, went the length of
injuring both individual and national character. It continued about
seven years--as long as the revolutionary war--cost some thirty
millions of money--and baffled the exertions of several generals;
recommenced when supposed to be finished; and was only finally
terminated by changing military campaigns into an armed occupation
by settlers. All the opposition presses and orators took hold of
it, and made its misfortunes the common theme of invective and
declamation. Its origin was charged to the oppressive conduct of
the administration--its protracted length to their imbecility--its
cost to their extravagance--its defeats to the want of foresight
and care. The Indians stood for an innocent and persecuted people.
Heroes and patriots were made of their chiefs. Our generals and
troops were decried; applause was lavished upon a handful of savages
who could thus defend their country; and corresponding censure upon
successive armies which could not conquer them. All this going
incessantly into the Congress debates and the party newspapers,
was injuring the administration at home, and the country abroad;
and, by dint of iteration and reiteration, stood a good chance to
become history, and to be handed down to posterity. At the same
time the war was one of flagrant and cruel aggression on the part
of these Indians. Their removal to the west of the Mississippi was
part of the plan for the general removal of all the Indians, and
every preparation was complete for their departure by their own
agreement, when it was interrupted by a horrible act. It was the
28th day of December, 1835, that the United States agent in Florida,
and several others, were suddenly massacred by a party under
Osceola, who had just been at the hospitable table with them: at the
same time the sutler and others were attacked as they sat at table:
same day two expresses were killed: and to crown these bloody deeds,
the same day witnessed the destruction of Major Dade's command of
112 men, on its march from Tampa Bay to Withlacootchee. All these
massacres were surprises, the result of concert, and executed as
such upon unsuspecting victims. The agent (Mr. Thompson), and some
friends were shot from the bushes while taking a walk near his
house: the sutler and his guests were shot at the dinner table: the
express riders were waylaid, and shot in the road: Major Dade's
command was attacked on the march, by an unseen foe, overpowered,
and killed nearly to the last man. All these deadly attacks took
place on the same day, and at points wide apart--showing that
the plot was as extensive as it was secret, and cruel as it was
treacherous; for not a soul was spared in either of the four
relentless attacks.
It was two days after the event that an infantry soldier of Major
Dade's command, appeared at Fort King, on Tampa Bay, from which
it had marched six days before, and gave information of what had
happened. The command was on the march, in open pine woods, tall
grass all around, and a swamp on the left flank. The grass concealed
a treacherous ambuscade. The advanced guard had passed, and was
cut off. Both the advance and the main body were attacked at the
same moment, but divided from each other. A circle of fire enclosed
each--fire from an invisible foe. To stand, was to be shot down: to
advance was to charge upon concealed rifles. But it was the only
course--was bravely adopted--and many savages thus sprung from
their coverts, were killed. The officers, courageously exposing
themselves, were rapidly shot--Major Dade early in the action. At
the end of an hour successive charges had roused the savages from
the grass, (which seemed to be alive with their naked and painted
bodies, yelling and leaping,) and driven beyond the range of shot.
But the command was too much weakened for a further operation. The
wounded were too numerous to be carried along: too precious to be
left behind to be massacred. The battle ground was maintained, and
a small band had conquered respite from attack: but to advance or
retreat was equally impossible. The only resource was to build a
small pen of pine logs, cut from the forest, collect the wounded
and the survivors into it, as into a little fort, and repulse the
assailants as long as possible. This was done till near sunset--the
action having began at ten in the morning. By that time every
officer was dead but one, and he desperately wounded, and helpless
on the ground. Only two men remained without wounds, and they red
with the blood of others, spirted upon them, or stained in helping
the helpless. The little pen was filled with the dead and the dying.
The firing ceased. The expiring lieutenant told the survivors he
could do no more for them, and gave them leave to save themselves
as they could. They asked his advice. He gave it to them; and to
that advice we are indebted for the only report of that bloody day's
work. He advised them all to lay down among the dead--to remain
still--and take their chance of being considered dead. This advice
was followed. All became still, prostrate and motionless; and the
savages, slowly and cautiously approaching, were a long time before
they would venture within the ghastly pen, where danger might still
lurk under apparent death. A squad of about forty negroes--fugitives
from the Southern States, more savage than the savage--were the
first to enter. They came in with knives and hatchets, cutting
throats and splitting skulls wherever they saw a sign of life. To
make sure of skipping no one alive, all were pulled and handled,
punched and kicked; and a groan or movement, an opening of the eye,
or even the involuntary contraction of a muscle, was an invitation
to the knife and the tomahawk. Only four of the living were able
to subdue sensations, bodily and mental, and remain without sign
of feeling under this dreadful ordeal; and two of these received
stabs, or blows--as many of the dead did. Lying still until the
search was over, and darkness had come on, and the butchers were
gone, these four crept from among their dead comrades and undertook
to make their way back to Tampa Bay--separating into two parties for
greater safety. The one that came in first had a narrow escape.
Pursuing a path the next day, an Indian on horseback, and with a
rifle across the saddle bow, met them full in the way. To separate,
and take the chance of a divided pursuit, was the only hope for
either: and they struck off into opposite directions. The one to
the right was pursued; and very soon the sharp crack of a rifle
made known his fate to the one that had gone to the left. To him
it was a warning, that his comrade being despatched, his own turn
came next. It was open pine woods, and a running, or standing man,
visible at a distance. The Indian on horseback was already in view.
Escape by flight was impossible. Concealment in the grass, or among
the palmettos, was the only hope: and this was tried. The man laid
close: the Indian rode near him. He made circles around, eyeing the
ground far and near. Rising in his stirrups to get a wider view,
and seeing nothing, he turned the head of his horse and galloped
off--the poor soldier having been almost under the horse's feet.
This man, thus marvellously escaping, was the first to bring in the
sad report of the Dade defeat--followed soon after by two others
with its melancholy confirmation. And these were the only reports
ever received of that completest of defeats. No officer survived to
report a word. All were killed in their places--men and officers,
each in his place, no one breaking ranks or giving back: and when
afterwards the ground was examined, and events verified by signs,
the skeletons in their places, and the bullet holes in trees and
logs, and the little pen with its heaps of bones, showed that the
carnage had taken place exactly as described by the men. And this
was the slaughter of Major Dade and his command--of 108 out of
112: as treacherous, as barbarous, as perseveringly cruel as ever
was known. One single feature is some relief to the sadness of the
picture, and discriminates this defeat from most others suffered
at the hands of Indians. There were no prisoners put to death; for
no man surrendered. There were no fugitives slain in vain attempts
at flight; for no one fled. All stood, and fought, and fell in
their places, returning blow for blow while life lasted. It was the
death of soldiers, showing that steadiness in defeat which is above
courage in victory.
And this was the origin of the Florida Indian war: and a more
treacherous, ferocious, and cold-blooded origin was never given to
any Indian war. Yet such is the perversity of party spirit that its
author--the savage Osceola--has been exalted into a hero-patriot;
our officers, disparaged and ridiculed; the administration loaded
with obloquy. And all this by our public men in Congress, as well
as by writers in the daily and periodical publications. The future
historian who should take these speeches and publications for their
guide, (and they are too numerous and emphatic to be overlooked,)
would write a history discreditable to our arms, and reproachful to
our justice. It would be a narrative of wickedness and imbecility
on our part--of patriotism and heroism on the part of the Indians:
those Indians whose very name (Seminole--wild,) define them as
the fugitives from all tribes, and made still worse than fugitive
Indians by a mixture with fugitive negroes, some of whom became
their chiefs. It was to obviate the danger of such a history as that
would be, that the author of this View delivered at the time, and in
the presence of all concerned, an historical speech on the Florida
Indian war, fortified by facts, and intended to stand for true;
and which has remained unimpeached. Extracts from that speech will
constitute the next chapter, to which this brief sketch will serve
as a preface and introduction.