CHAPTER XLII.

FLORIDA ARMED OCCUPATION BILL: MR. BENTON'S SPEECH: EXTRACTS.

Armed occupation, with land to the occupant, is the true way of

settling and holding a conquered country. It is the way which has

been followed in all ages, and in all countries, from the time

that the children of Israel entered the promised land, with the

implements of husbandry in one hand, and the weapons of war in the

other. From that day to this, all conquered countries had been

settled in that way. Armed settlement, and a homestead in the soil,

was the principle of the Roman military colonies, by which they

consolidated their conquests. The northern nations bore down upon

the south of Europe in that way: the settlers of the New World--our

pilgrim fathers and all--settled these States in that way: the

settlement of Kentucky and Tennessee was effected in the same way.

The armed settlers went forth to fight, and to cultivate. They

lived in stations first--an assemblage of blockhouses (the Roman

presidium), and emerged to separate settlements afterwards; and

in every instance, an interest in the soil--an inheritance in the

land--was the reward of their enterprise, toil, and danger. The

peninsula of Florida is now prepared for this armed settlement: the

enemy has been driven out of the field. He lurks, an unseen foe, in

the swamps and hammocks. He no longer shows himself in force, or

ventures a combat; but, dispersed and solitary, commits individual

murders and massacres. The country is prepared for armed settlement.

It is the fashion--I am sorry to say it--to depreciate the services

of our troops in Florida--to speak of them as having done nothing;

as having accomplished no object for the country, and acquired no

credit for themselves. This was a great error. The military had done

an immensity there; they had done all that arms could do, and a

great deal that the axe and the spade could do. They had completely

conquered the country; that is to say, they had driven the enemy

from the field; they had dispersed the foe; they had reduced them

to a roving banditti, whose only warfare was to murder stragglers

and families. Let any one compare the present condition of Florida

with what it was at the commencement of the war, and see what a

change has taken place. Then combats were frequent. The Indians

embodied continually, fought our troops, both regulars, militia,

and volunteers. Those hard contests cannot be forgotten. It cannot

be forgotten how often these Indians met our troops in force, or

hung upon the flanks of marching columns, harassing and attacking

them at every favorable point. Now all this is done. For two years

past, we have heard of no such thing. The Indians, defeated in

these encounters, and many of them removed to the West, have now

retired from the field, and dispersed in small parties over the

whole peninsula of Florida. They are dispersed over a superficies of

45,000 square miles, and that area sprinkled all over with haunts

adapted to their shelter, to which they retire for safety like

wild beasts, and emerge again for new mischief. Our military have

then done much; they have done all that military can do; they have

broken, dispersed, and scattered the enemy. They have driven them

out of the field; they have prepared the country for settlement,

that is to say, for armed settlement. There has been no battle, no

action, no skirmish, in Florida, for upwards of two years. The last

combats were at Okeechobee and Caloosahatchee, above two years ago.

There has been no _war_ since that time; nothing but individual

massacres. The country has been waiting for settlers for two years;

and this bill provides for them, and offers them inducements to

settle.

Besides their military labors, our troops have done an immensity of

labor of a different kind. They have penetrated and perforated the

whole peninsula of Florida; they have gone through the _Serbonian

bogs_ of that peninsula; they have gone where the white man's foot

never before was seen to tread; and where no Indian believed it

could ever come. They have gone from the Okeefekonee swamp to the

Everglades; they have crossed the peninsula backwards and forwards,

from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Ocean. They have sounded

every morass, threaded every hammock, traced every creek, examined

every lake, and made the topography of the country as well known as

that of the counties of our States. The maps which the topographical

officers have constructed, and the last of which is in the Report of

the Secretary at War, attest the extent of these explorations, and

the accuracy and minuteness of the surveys and examinations. Besides

all this, the troops have established some hundreds of posts;

they have opened many hundred miles of wagon road; and they have

constructed some thousands of feet of causeways and bridges. These

are great and meritorious labors. They are labors which prepare the

country for settlement; prepare it for the 10,000 armed cultivators

which this bill proposes to send there.

Mr. B. said he paid this tribute cheerfully to the merits of our

military, and our volunteers and militia employed in Florida; the

more cheerfully, because it was the inconsiderate custom of too

many to depreciate the labors of these brave men. He took pleasure,

here in his place, in the American Senate, to do them justice; and

that without drawing invidious comparisons--without attempting to

exalt some at the expense of others. He viewed with a favorable

eye--with friendly feelings--with prepossessions in their favor--all

who were doing their best for their country; and all such--all

who did their best for their country--should have his support and

applause, whether fortune was more or less kind to them, in crowning

their meritorious exertions with success. He took pleasure in doing

all this justice; but his tribute would be incomplete, if he did not

add what was said by the Secretary at War, in his late report, and

also by the immediate commander, General Taylor.

Mr. B. repeated, that the military had done their duty, and deserved

well of their country. They had brought the war to that point, when

there was no longer an enemy to be fought; when there was nothing

left but a banditti to be extirpated. Congress, also, had tried

its policy--the policy of peace and conciliation--and the effort

only served to show the unparalleled treachery and savageism of

the ferocious beasts with which we had to deal. He alluded to the

attempts at negotiation and pacification, tried this summer under

an intimation from Congress. The House of Representatives, at the

last session, voted $5,000 for opening negotiations with these

Indians. When the appropriation came to the Senate, it was objected

to by himself and some others, from the knowledge they had of the

character of these Indians, and their belief that it would end in

treachery and misfortune. The House adhered; the appropriation was

made; the administration acted upon it, as they felt bound to do;

and behold the result of the attempt! The most cruel and perfidious

massacres plotted and contrived while making the treaty itself!

a particular officer selected, and stipulated to be sent to a

particular point, under the pretext of establishing a trading-post,

and as a protector, there to be massacred! a horrible massacre in

reality perpetrated there; near seventy persons since massacred,

including families; the Indians themselves emboldened by our offer

of peace, and their success in treachery; and the whole aspect of

the war made worse by our injudicious attempt at pacification.

Lt. Col. Harney, with a few soldiers and some citizens, was reposing

on the banks of the Caloosahatchee, under the faith of treaty

negotiations, and on treaty ground. He was asleep. At the approach

of daybreak he was roused by the firing and yells of the Indians,

who had got possession of the camp, and killed the sergeant and

more than one-half of his men. Eleven soldiers and five citizens

were killed; eight soldiers and two citizens escaped. Seven of the

soldiers, taking refuge in a small sail-boat, then lying off in the

stream, in which the two citizens fortunately had slept that night,

as soon as possible weighed anchor, and favored by a light breeze,

slipped off unperceived by the Indians. The Colonel himself escaped

with great difficulty, and after walking fifteen miles down the

river, followed by one soldier, came to a canoe, which he had left

there the evening previous, and succeeded, by this means, in getting

on board the sail-boat, where he found those who had escaped in her.

Before he laid down to sleep, the treacherous Chitto Tustenuggee,

partaking his hospitality, lavished proofs of friendship upon him.

Here was an instance of treachery of which there was no parallel

in Indian warfare. With all their treachery, the treaty-ground is

a sacred spot with the Indians; but here, in the very articles of

a treaty itself, they plan a murderous destruction of an officer

whom they solicited to be sent with them as their protector; and,

to gratify all their passions of murder and robbery at once, they

stipulate to have their victims sent to a remote point, with

settlers and traders, as well as soldiers, and with a supply of

goods. All this they arranged; and too successfully did they execute

the plan. And this was the beginning of their _execution_ of the

treaty. Massacres, assassinations, robberies, and house-burnings,

have followed it up, until the suburbs of St. Augustine and

Tallahasse are stained with blood, and blackened with fire. About

seventy murders have since taken place, including the destruction of

the shipwrecked crews and passengers on the southern extremity of

the peninsula.

The plan of Congress has, then, been tried; the experiment of

negotiation has been tried and has ended disastrously and cruelly

for us, and with greatly augmenting the confidence and ferocity of

the enemy. It puts an end to all idea of finishing the war there

by peaceable negotiation. Chastisement is what is due to these

Indians, and what they expect. They mean to keep no faith with the

government, and henceforth they will expect no faith to be reposed

in them. The issue is now made; we have to expel them by force, or

give up forty-five thousand square miles of territory--much of it an

old settled country--to be ravaged by this banditti.

The plan of Congress has been tried, and has ended in disaster; the

military have done all that military can do; the administration

have now in the country all the troops which can be spared for the

purpose. They have there the one-half of our regular infantry, to

wit: four regiments out of eight; they have there the one-half of

our dragoons, to wit: one regiment; they even have there a part of

our artillery, to wit: one regiment; and they have besides, there,

a part of the naval force to scour the coasts and inlets; and, in

addition to all this, ten companies of Florida volunteers. Even the

marines under their accomplished commander (Col. Henderson), and at

his request, have been sent there to perform gallant service, on an

element not their own. No more of our troops can be spared for that

purpose; the West and the North require the remainder, and more than

the remainder. The administration can do no more than it has done

with the means at its command. It is laid under the necessity of

asking other means; and the armed settlers provided for in this bill

are the principal means required. One thousand troops for the war,

is all that is asked in addition to the settlers, in this bill.

This then is the point we are at: To choose between granting

these means, or doing nothing! Yes, sir, to choose between the

recommendations of the administration, and nothing! I say, these, or

nothing; for I presume Congress will not prescribe another attempt

at negotiation; no one will recommend an increase of ten thousand

regular troops; no one will recommend a draft of ten thousand

militia. It is, then, the plan of the administration, or nothing;

and this brings us to the question, whether the government can now

fold its arms, leave the regulars to man their posts, and abandon

the country to the Indians? This is now the question; and to this

point I will direct the observations which make it impossible for

us to abdicate our duty, and abandon the country to the Indians.

I assume it then as a point granted, that Florida cannot be given

up--that she cannot be abandoned--that she cannot be left in her

present state. What then is to be done? Raise an army of ten

thousand men to go there to fight? Why, the men who are there now

can find nobody to fight! It is two years since a fight has been

had; it is two years since we have heard of a fight. Ten men, who

will avoid surprises and ambuscades, can now go from one end of

Florida to the other. As warriors, these Indians no longer appear,

it is only as assassins, as robbers, as incendiaries, that they

lurk about. The country wants settlers, not an army. It has wanted

these settlers for two years; and this bill provides for them, and

offers them the proper inducements to go. And here I take the three

great positions, that this bill is the _appropriate_ remedy; that

it is the _efficient_ remedy; that it is the _cheap_ remedy, for

the cure of the Florida difficulties. It is the appropriate remedy;

for what is now wanted, is not an army to fight, but settlers and

cultivators to retain possession of the country, and to defend their

possessions. We want people to take possession, and keep possession,

and the armed cultivator is the man for that. The blockhouse is the

first house to be built in an Indian country; the stockade is the

first fence to be put up. Within that blockhouse, and a few of them

together--a hollow square of blockhouses, two miles long on each

side, two hundred yards apart, and enclosing a good field--safe

habitations are found for families. The faithful mastiff, to give

notice of the approach of danger, and a few trusty rifles in brave

hands, make all safe. Cultivation and defence then goes hand in

hand. The heart of the Indian sickens when he hears the crowing of

the cock, the barking of the dog, the sound of the axe, and the

crack of the rifle. These are the true evidences of the dominion

of the white man; these are the proof that the owner has come, and

means to stay; and then they feel it to be time for them to go.

While soldiers alone are in the country, they feel their presence to

be temporary; that they are mere sojourners in the land, and sooner

or later must go away. It is the settler alone, the armed settler,

whose presence announces the dominion--the permanent dominion--of

the white man.

It is the most efficient remedy. On this point we can speak with

confidence, for the other remedies have been tried, and have

failed. The other remedies are to catch the Indians, and remove

them; or, to negotiate with them, and induce them to go off. Both

have been tried; both are exhausted. No human being now thinks that

our soldiers can catch these Indians; no one now believes in the

possibility of removing them by treaty. No other course remains to

be tried, but the armed settlement; and that is so obvious, that it

is difficult to see how any one that has read history, or has heard

how this new world was settled, or how Kentucky and Tennessee were

settled, can doubt it.

The peninsula is a desolation. Five counties have been depopulated.

The inhabitants of five counties--the survivors of many

massacres--have been driven from their homes: this bill is intended

to induce them to return, and to induce others to go along with

them. Such inducements to settle and defend new countries have been

successful in all ages and in all nations; and cannot fail to be

effectual with us. _Deliberat Roma, perit Saguntum_, became the

watchword of reproach, and of stimulus to action in the Roman Senate

when the Senate deliberated while a colony was perishing. _Saguntum

perishes while Rome deliberates_: and this is truly the case with

ourselves and Florida. That beautiful and unfortunate territory is

a prey to plunder, fire, and murder. The savages kill, burn and

rob--where they find a man, a house, or an animal in the desolation

which they have made. Large part of the territory is the empty and

bloody skin of an immolated victim.

Thirty Years' View (Vol. 2 of 2) or, A History of the Working of the American Government for Thirty Years, from 1820 to 1850 · 第 42 / 202 章