THE HERO OF THE EVERGLADES
OSCEOLA AND THE SEMINOLE WAR
The first treaty of Payne's Landing, which was signed in May, 1832,
required the Seminoles to give up all their lands in Florida and to go
west of the Mississippi. Only seven chiefs signed the treaty for their
people, nearly all of whom were bitterly opposed to it. In their rage
they killed two signers, and replaced them with a bitter enemy of the
project. One of the indignant chiefs, when asked to give his views of
the Treaty of Payne's Landing, strode to the table where the paper lay,
hunting knife in hand, and exclaimed:
"_That_ is my opinion!"
As he spoke, he brought down the knife with such force that the point
passed through the paper and the top of the table on which it lay. The
chief who did this startling thing was Osceola, the most famous leader
of the Seminoles.
Did you ever hear of a war that was caused by the dispute over the
meaning of a single pronoun? Such was the Seminole War, one of the most
long drawn out and trying in the history of our country.
In the treaty referred to the removal of the tribe west of the
Mississippi was made conditional. It said, "Should _they_ be satisfied
with the character of the country." Who was meant by "they?" President
Jackson insisted that it was the seven signers of the treaty (of whom
two were killed), while the Seminoles were as firm in arguing that it
referred to the _whole tribe_, whose opinion was to be formed after
their agents had examined the region and made their report. Candor
forces us to say that the red men had the better of the argument.
Nor need it be denied that wrong pressure was brought to bear on the
consenting chiefs. They were paid to misrepresent the wishes of their
people, and, like their civilized brethren, were open to such base
inducements.
As the time drew near for removal, it became clear that the Seminoles
had no intention of going. General Wiley Thompson, the agent, called
the real Indian chiefs together in October, 1834, and talked pointedly,
impressing upon them the firm resolve of the government to make them
obey the terms of the treaty. The dusky leaders were not scared, and
told him the whole business was a fraud, and they would never accept
it. The most outspoken of the chiefs was Osceola.
The conference having adjourned without result, was again called
some time later, to hear the message of President Jackson, which
was as direct as that sturdy man knew how to make his words. It was
useless; the chiefs knew they had been cheated and remained defiant.
What specially angered Osceola was that some of them, upon whom he
had counted for support, were won over by the agent. This was done no
doubt through the corrupt means that had convinced those who reported
favorably on the country selected for their new homes beyond the
Mississippi. He accused General Thompson of unfairness. The quarrel
became so heated that the agent had Osceola put in irons. He was kept
over night and a part of two days, finally gaining his release by
promising General Thompson to sign the treaty, and use his influence to
persuade the other chiefs to do the same.
[Illustration: "THAT IS MY OPINION!"]
Osceola was a half-breed, and this submission was simply a ruse to
gain his freedom. His heart burned with rage, and he yearned for the
chance to strike him who had put the crowning shame upon him. As might
have been expected, the mongrel was hardly free of the camp when the
outrages were renewed with more ferocity than ever. He killed one of
the friendly chiefs, and then the Seminoles left all their towns, and
took their families far into the gloomy swamps, beyond reach of the
white men. The remarkable thing about this removal was that it was done
with such skill that not the slightest sign showed where the fugitives
had gone. The most skillful scouts of the American army tried for weeks
to trace their hiding place, but in not a single instance did they
succeed. The feat was marvelous, nothing of the kind having been known
before or since.
The government could no longer shut its eyes to the fact that it had a
serious war on its hands. Unless protection was quickly given to the
inhabitants of Florida, most of them would be massacred. The Seminoles
were in dead earnest. General Clinch had charge of Fort King, and would
have been doomed had not Major Dade reached him with reinforcements.
On the day before Christmas, 1835, Dade, with one hundred men and
eight officers, and a fieldpiece, marched against the hostiles. They
advanced without hindrance for several days, when they were attacked by
a large force of Indians and mongrels. Almost the first man to fall was
Major Dade, but the other officers and men went down around him like
tenpins. Under Captain Gardener, the Indians were finally repelled.
It was known, however, that they would soon return, and the soldiers
began hastily throwing up intrenchments. They were working desperately,
when the Indians attacked again. Captain Gardener and many others were
quickly killed. An attempt was made to bring the field-piece into
action, but the Seminoles and negroes shot down every one who tried
to serve it. When all the officers and two-thirds of the men had been
slain, the ammunition of the survivors gave out, and the enemy rushed
upon them. Only three men, by feigning death, escaped to the woods
after the departure of the assailants.
The massacre of Major Dade and his command caused as profound emotion
throughout the country as that of Custer and his men nearly a half
century later.
It is believed, though it is not certain, that Osceola was the leader
in this terrible affair. If so, he did another thing, which, in its
way, was equally startling. His enmity toward General Thompson, who had
put him in irons, was intense. On the same day that the Dade massacre
took place, Thompson was dining in a house within a short distance of
Fort King. Seated at the table with him were several gentlemen; and,
as the day was unusually warm, even for that latitude, the sashes were
raised. In the midst of the meal, and while all were chatting and
laughing, a volley came through the windows, and Osceola, at the head
of a party of Seminoles, dashed into the room with tomahawks upraised.
Five guests leaped out of the windows, and, running at headlong speed,
reached the fort. The others made for a hummock near by, but were shot
down on the way. Five in all, including General Thompson, were killed.
The cook, a negro woman, hid behind a barrel and was not noticed. Those
who fell were scalped, and Osceola, uttering his well-known defiant
cry, made off with his companions, before the garrison at the fort
could interfere.
The famous mongrel was the head and front of the rebellion. A force
of seven hundred men, while crossing the Ouithlacoochee River, were
attacked by him, and in an hour's fight, the Americans suffered a loss
of sixty-three killed and wounded, though they inflicted a greater loss
upon their assailants. During this struggle, Osceola was recognized
many times by the soldiers. He wore a red belt and several long,
stained eagle feathers in his hair. He would stand behind a tree, while
reloading his rifle, after which he would step out into full view and
fire with a deliberate aim. He was seen to level his gun at General
Clinch several times, but fortunately that officer, who rashly exposed
himself, was unharmed, though his clothing was pierced by one of the
bullets of the Seminole chieftain.
In more than one instance a whole platoon fired at Osceola. The bark
was seen to fly from the tree behind which he crouched, and once he was
hit, but the wound was slight and did not bother him. Not until a squad
of Americans were almost upon him, did he break for new cover, which he
safely reached amid a storm of bullets whistling about him. The valor
of the Americans saved them from a more fearful massacre than that of
Major Dade's command.
It was a long time before the United States awoke to the difficult
task on its hands, in bringing the Seminoles of Florida to terms. It
seemed incredible that such an insignificant tribe could withstand the
armed forces sent against them, but, by-and-by, more than one alarming
fact came to light. Some of the Creeks of Georgia were stealing across
the border and joining the hostiles; the stream of runaway slaves
into those gloomy swamps increased in extent, and white desperadoes
were doing the same thing, out of pure wantonness. Furthermore, the
Seminoles had the great advantage of fully knowing the wild region.
They could strike their lightning-like blows, and, if too closely
pressed, take refuge in the dismal solitudes, whither the white
soldiers could not follow them. The warriors and negroes were relieved
of all anxiety about their families, for, as has been said, the veteran
scouts could not find any of them in hiding. This left the husbands
and sons at liberty to fight without thought for the safety of those
dependent upon them.
As proof of the singular nature of the war, a few instances may be
named. While the sloop _Pilot_ was sailing up the Halifax River, it
was attacked by Indians and would have been captured had the Seminoles
been better marksmen. General Gaines, while marching from Tampa for
the Indian country, with a large force was fired upon several times,
and his losses, which were not great, included a lieutenant of United
States dragoons, while the general himself was wounded. It seemed as
if the end of the war was put off in more than one instance, by some
incident, slight of itself, but enough to cause misunderstanding. The
whites had good reason to suspect the honesty of the Indians, and the
latter were equally distrustful--and it must be confessed that ground
was sometimes given for such distrust--of the honor of the white men.
Thus early in March, 1836, Osceola headed a party which met one of
General Gaines' staff officers under a flag of truce, and sent word
that he and his warriors were tired of fighting, and wished to make
peace. General Gaines made the unwise answer that it mattered nothing
to him whether the hostiles wanted peace or not, a large force would
soon be on the ground, and every Indian taken with arms in his hands
would be shot. Osceola answered this message by saying that the chiefs
would hold a council and send their reply before the close of the day.
General Gaines told them that if they would stop fighting, go south of
the Ouithlacoochee River, and come to a council when told to do so by
the United States Commissioners, no harm should befall them.
Osceola agreed to this, but had hardly done so, when General Clinch,
with several hundred armed men appeared near them. He had just arrived
with supplies for the army, and had no other thought in mind, but
Osceola believed the whole thing was a trap, and he and his warriors
dashed into the woods in precipitous flight.
General Scott now took command in Florida. Fighting went on all through
the summer, with no real advantage to either side. The Seminoles met
with several successes, but when cool weather came again, no actual
gain had been made by the Americans. Congress had to grant funds to
save many of the settlers from starvation. The whole country became
impatient. Again and again, reports were printed that the final blow to
the revolt had been given and peace was secured at last; but, hardly
was this news read when it was followed by tidings of some startling
success of the hostiles. If any of the readers of these pages are old
enough to remember the Seminole War, they will recall those trying
months and years with their "hope long deferred."
In September, 1836, a hatless man dashed into Jacksonville, with the
report that his home, only seven miles away, was attacked by Indians.
Volunteers hurried to the relief of the besieged, who, it was found,
had been able to hold off their assailants; but several neighbors had
been slain and their houses burned.
The Creeks and Seminoles, considered as tribes, had long been enemies.
In fact, one cause of the anger of the latter over the Treaty of
Payne's Landing was that it located the Seminoles near the former in
Indian Territory. Two Creek chiefs with nearly a thousand warriors, now
joined the United States forces. This was "fighting fire with fire,"
and many saw in it the certainty that the war must soon be brought to a
close.
But the aimless fighting went on. The Seminoles showed marked valor,
and succeeded in defeating the soldiers with severe losses. General
Jessup having declined to take chief command in Florida, Governor Call
did so, sure of soon forcing the Seminoles to sue for peace. He did all
that was possible, and it amounted to nothing. Then the Secretary of
War ordered General Jessup to take command again. He did so, and set
the main army in motion, in January, 1837.
Great was the relief of that officer, when he received proposals of
peace from the Seminoles. They kept straggling in until, before the
close of May, three thousand, among whom were many women and children,
were gathered at one of the posts on Lake Monroe. Rations were issued
to them, and among the chiefs was Osceola himself. More than that, he
had eaten at the table of General Barney, and slept in his tent. He and
all the chiefs said over and over again, that they had made up their
minds to offer no further opposition to their removal to the new lands
beyond the Mississippi. General Jessup breathed easier, for he was
surely warranted in believing the end was at hand.
Twenty-four transports lay at Tampa to take away the Indians; but when
the day came for them to embark, not a warrior, squaw or papoose was to
be seen. All had taken to the woods again in obedience to the command
of Osceola. It is hard to understand why he did this thing. Could it be
in obedience to a waggish disposition? Did he wish to humiliate General
Jessup, and through him the American army? Or did he seek a few good
meals for his people, and more knowledge for himself of the plans of
his enemies?
The whole war was not marked by a more provoking occurrence. A large
party of the army was prostrated by sickness, and many had been given
furlough, so that the strength of our forces in Florida was less than
it had been for a long time. The Seminoles were greatly heartened by
the trick, and became more daring than ever. The Territory of Florida
was swept by a reign of terror, and the conquest of the redskins seemed
farther off than ever.
What could be more natural than that General Jessup should be filled
with hot resentment against Osceola, the cause of his humiliation? He
resolved never to trust him again, and to relax no effort to kill or
make him prisoner.
In the month of October, 1837, a message came to Fort Peyton from
Osceola to the effect that he was a short distance away and desired an
interview with General Hernandez. He asked General Jessup to come out
and talk with him. Instead of replying, that officer ordered one of his
lieutenants to lure Osceola and his companions into the fort, and then
make them prisoners. But the Seminole was too wily to be trapped and
declined the invitation.
General Hernandez was now sent with two hundred and fifty men to hold
a parley with the Seminoles, and the lieutenant was told to report
whether the answers of the Indians were satisfactory. He came back
after a short time with word that they were not. Jessup then ordered
Major Ashby to seize the whole party, and this, too, despite the fact
that the meeting was under a flag of truce.
It was so done. Seventy-five Indians, including Osceola, were made
prisoners under the white flag, and without the firing of a gun,
October 23, 1837, and the act was accepted by our government.
While the deed must ever remain a blot upon our honor, it is only
fair to name some of the circumstances that were urged in excuse.
The Seminoles themselves had repeatedly violated flags of truce, and
were so treacherous that they had placed themselves outside the pale
of civilized warfare. Furthermore, there was every reason to doubt
the honesty of Osceola and his brother chiefs. They had made the same
professions before, for no reason except to gain time. Finally, there
was every cause to believe that his capture and that of the prominent
leaders would either end, or hasten the end, of the war, and prevent
the shedding of a great deal of innocent blood through the termination
of hostilities.
These arguments named may be accepted as a partial excuse for the act
of General Jessup, though it cannot be justified. All the abuse he
had suffered before was as nothing compared to that now heaped upon
his head, but he had probably become used to that sort of thing, and
believed that when peace speedily followed, those who blamed him would
speak words of praise. But peace did not come, and the war dragged on
for year after year.
[Illustration: OSCEOLA, THE SEMINOLE]
Osceola and his brother prisoners were sent to St. Augustine. The
leader was soon after removed to Fort Moultrie, in Charleston harbor.
His heart was broken, his spirit crushed, and he pined away and died
within the following year. That he possessed courage and much strength
of character cannot be denied, though in no respect was he the equal of
several leaders of his race who have been named in these pages in the
true stories that have been told.
We have said so much about the Seminole War that it is well to sum up
its history. It has been stated that the capture of Osceola and many
leading chiefs failed to bring the struggle to an end, as nearly every
one believed it would do. General Zachary Taylor succeeded General
Jessup in command, and marched from Fort Gardener at the close of the
year, 1837. "Rough and Ready" became President of the United States
something more than ten years later, because of the fine record he made
in our war with Mexico. In his biographies, much notice was given to
the battle of Lake Okeechobee, which was fought on that body of water.
It was the conflict of the war with the Seminoles. The issue more than
once was doubtful, but in the end the Americans drove the enemy from
the field. The loss of the soldiers was twenty-eight killed and a
hundred and eleven wounded. Four companies had every officer, with one
exception, killed.
The rough handling which the Indians received made them more wary
than before about risking a battle in the open. The affrays were too
numerous to be recorded. In one case, General Jessup was badly hurt,
and had ten men killed and thirty wounded. Convinced by this time that
it was impossible to drive out the Seminoles from Florida, he wrote to
the Secretary of War advising that a certain part of the Territory be
set apart for them. The Secretary gave no attention to the suggestion.
Finally, after all methods, including the violation of the flag of
truce, had failed, a novel plan was tried. General Jessup proposed
that bloodhounds should be used to run down the Indians, who hitherto
had found refuge in the swamps. General Taylor and the administration
approved the scheme, it being declared that the dogs were to be used
for no other purpose than to track the redskins. Despite the storm
of protests raised throughout the country, thirty-three hounds were
imported from Cuba, and five Spaniards were hired to handle them, the
cost of the venture being several thousand dollars.
High hopes were felt of the success of this plan, but, to the dismay
of its authors, the canines having been trained to track negroes,
refused to take the scent of an Indian. By urging, several were made to
follow the scent, but the results were more discouraging than in the
case of the others. The red men waited in the woods till the savage
brutes came up to them, when they made friends with them and used the
dogs to trail the owners themselves!
General Taylor was relieved by General McComb in April, 1838. He
succeeded in getting a few of the Seminoles, who came in with their
families, to consent to be shipped to the lands set apart for them
beyond the Mississippi. After coddling several scores of prisoners, he
sent them back to their brethren under their promise to try to persuade
the others to move, but no results followed.
Not only were scores of settlers slain, but many small companies of
soldiers were cut off. General Armistead succeeded to the command in
1840. He roused some hope by his kindly policy. He had a number of
chiefs brought from Indian Territory, taking care to select those who
had strongly opposed at first the removal thither, but had changed
their views, and sent them among the hostiles. Whether they really
tried to convince the discontented ones of their error or not, is
uncertain. But though several meetings were held, the hostiles refused
to listen, fled to the woods and swamps, and renewed the war with the
old-time ferocity.
General Armistead, in his disappointment, wrote to the Secretary of War:
"Thus have ended all our well-grounded hopes of bringing the war to a
close by pacific measures. Confident in the resources of the country,
the enemy will hold out to the last, and can never be induced to come
in again. Immediately upon the withdrawal of the Indians, orders were
transmitted to commanders of the various regiments to put their troops
in motion, and before this reaches you there will be scouting in every
direction."
And now, at last the right man came forward in the person of General
William J. Worth, who took military charge in Florida in the spring of
1841. During the summer months, he sent parties of men who made their
way far into the swamps to the islands, where the Seminoles had planted
the crops on which they depended for support during the winter. These
were destroyed, and a bright chief was brought as a prisoner to Tampa.
He listened to the arguments of General Worth, and was impressed by
them. The general invited him to select five of his fellow prisoners,
and they were returned to the camp of the hostiles, with word that if
they did not come in and surrender by a certain date to be fixed by the
chief himself, he and all his fellow captives should be hanged.
This message did the work. The fierce heroes who had defied the United
States for so many years, knew that they would starve if they stayed
in their retreats and that their leading chief and others would have
to die unless the surrender was made. So the barefooted, emaciated
Seminoles, negroes and mongrels, and their ragged women and children,
stalked out of the regions of twilight and gloom, handed over their
flintlocks, joined the procession beyond the Mississippi, and the
Seminole War came to an end.