Chapter 10

The Americans fitted out a large military force to retake Detroit, and overthrow the Indians who threatened the settlements. General Harrison was put in command of the expedition. He set out with his army in grand array, but was unable to reach Detroit because of the swampy condition of the land over which he must march. He was forced to camp on the Maumee River. His advance into the territory of the Indians thwarted the enterprise that Tecumseh had set on foot against Fort Wayne.

While Harrison was encamped at Fort Meigs there were several encounters between the hostile forces. A division of Harrison's army, under General Winchester, having allowed itself to become separated from the main army, was attacked on the River Raisin by a party of British and Indians. After a fierce struggle the remnant of General Winchester's force surrendered to the British. In the absence of Tecumseh many of the prisoners were cruelly massacred by the Indian victors.

Major Richardson's description of General Winchester's men gives us a good idea of the hardihood of the frontier soldiers, and shows us how they came to be called "Long Knives" by the Indians:

"It was the depth of winter; but scarcely an individual was in possession of a great coat or cloak, and few of them wore garments of wool of any description. They still retained their summer dress, consisting of cotton stuff of various colors shaped into frocks, and descending to the knee. Their trousers were of the same material. They were covered with slouched hats, worn bare by constant use, beneath which their long hair fell matted and uncombed over their cheeks; and these, together with the dirty blankets wrapped round their loins to protect them against the inclemency of the season, and fastened by broad leathern belts, into which were thrust axes and knives of an enormous length, gave them an air of wildness and savageness."

Later, General Proctor, who had succeeded General Brock in command of the British forces at Detroit, laid siege to Fort Meigs. Tecumseh, who took part in the siege, was anxious to meet the enemy in open country. He sent the following unceremonious challenge to his old acquaintance:

"General Harrison: I have with me eight hundred braves. You have an equal number in your hiding place. Come out with them and give me battle. You talked like a brave when we met at Vincennes, and I respected you; but now you hide behind logs and in the earth, like a ground-hog. Give me answer.

TECUMSEH."

When Harrison did venture to send out a detachment it was beaten by the Indians, and many of the Americans were made prisoners. For all the effort General Proctor made to prevent it, a terrible massacre might have followed this victory. Just as the Indians had begun to murder the prisoners, Tecumseh rode upon the scene of slaughter. When he saw what was going on he exclaimed in a passion of regret and indignation, "Oh, what will become of my Indians!" He rushed into the midst of the savages, rescued the man they were beginning to torture, and, with uplifted tomahawk, dared the whole horde to touch another prisoner. They cowered before him, deeply ashamed of their conduct.

On discovering that General Proctor was present, Tecumseh demanded impatiently why he had not interfered to prevent the massacre. General Proctor answered that Tecumseh's Indians could not be controlled. To this Tecumseh responded with scorn: "Say, rather, you are unable to command. Go put on petticoats."

In September, 1813, Commodore Perry's splendid victories on Lake Erie gave to the Americans control of the Lakes, and this made it impossible for the British to hold Detroit and Malden. Harrison was advancing with a land force to take these towns and General Proctor was eager to get out of his way. He began to prepare for retreat, but tried to conceal his purpose from Tecumseh. The latter's suspicions were aroused, however, and he demanded a council, in which he made his last formal speech. He spoke boldly and bitterly against General Proctor's course. He said:

"You always told us you would never draw your foot off British ground; but now, father, we see that you are drawing back, and we are sorry to see our father doing so without seeing the enemy. We must compare our father's conduct to a fat dog that carries its tail on its back, but when affrighted it drops it between its legs and runs off. Father, listen! The Americans have not yet defeated us by land; neither are we sure they have done so by water; we therefore wish to remain here and fight our enemy, should they make their appearance. If they defeat us we will retreat with our father. * * * We now see our British father preparing to march out of his stronghold. Father, you have the arms and ammunition which our great father sent to his red children. If you have an idea of going away, give them to us and you may go and welcome. For us, our lives are in the hands of the Great Spirit. We are determined to defend our lands, and if it be His will, we wish to leave our bones upon them."

Notwithstanding the wish of Tecumseh, General Proctor kept his purpose to retreat. He promised, however, that if they were pursued by the Americans he would turn at the first favorable site and give them battle. Accordingly, Tecumseh accompanied the retreating General. He repeatedly urged Proctor to keep his promise and face the enemy. On the fifth of October, Proctor learned that the American forces were at his heels. Valor, therefore, seemed the better part of discretion, and, choosing a ridge between the Thames River and a swamp, he arranged his forces for battle.

Colonel Richard M. Johnson managed the charge of the Americans. One division of his regiment, under command of his brother, attacked and quickly routed the British regulars under General Proctor. The other division he himself led against Tecumseh's Indians.

The Indians waited under protection of the thick brush until the horsemen were within close range; then in response to Tecumseh's war cry all fired. Johnson's advance guard was nearly cut down. The horses could not advance. Johnson ordered his men to dismount and a terrible struggle followed. Soon Tecumseh was shot, and, the Indians missing him, gave up the battle and fled. One of them afterwards described the defeat in a few words: "Tecumseh fell and we all ran."

The war was now ended in the Northwest. The Americans had regained the posts taken by the British; they had subdued the Indians, and gained possession of the lands in the Wabash Valley. The power of the Prophet was destroyed. Tecumseh was dead. The Long Knives had crushed forever the Confederacy of Tecumseh, but it had taken upward of five million dollars and an army of twenty thousand men to do it.

THE STORY OF OSCEOLA

BY FRANCES M. PERRY

THE STORY OF OSCEOLA

I. THE EXODUS OF THE RED STICKS

The sun was low in the west and sent long shafts of light across the tops of the trees that bordered a quiet, shining lake in northern Florida. It shone upon a company of Indians who were straggling along the shore, and made their bright turbans and many colored calicoes look gay in spite of dirt and tatters.

The company was a large one. In it were not only braves, but also squaws and pappooses, and a few negroes. They trooped along with the unhurried swiftness and easy disarray of men and women who have journeyed for many days and have many days of travel still before them.

Here and there a strapping brave bestrode a horse, while his squaw trudged beside him, sharing with a black slave the burden of household goods. But for the most part ceremony had given way to necessity and the warriors went afoot, leaving the horses and mules to carry the old men, aged squaws, and young children, who were too feeble to walk.

This was a band of Red Stick Indians who had left forever the camping grounds of their fathers on the Chattahoochee River, to escape the oppression of their powerful kinsmen, the Creek Indians. They had rebelled against the rule of the Creeks, because the Creeks refused them their share of plunder in battle, and laid claim to their lands and their slaves. The Red Sticks hated the Creeks so bitterly that they could no longer live near them. They were resolved to leave altogether the territory that the United States government recognized as belonging to the Creeks, and seek homes with the Seminoles or runaways in Florida.

The Red Sticks had left the Creek country far behind them, and had arrived, as we have seen, in northern Florida. The land into which they had come was uncultivated, wild, and sweet. The lakes and rivers were full of fish; the forests were full of game; fruits and berries grew in abundance. Everything seemed to invite the wanderers to tarry there and build themselves homes. Still they marched on over rich brown fields, past dancing lakes and streams, over fertile hillsides shaded with live oak and magnolia. No spot, however beautiful, could induce them to pause for more than a few days' rest. Their object was not to find a pleasant camping ground but to escape the hated Creeks. They were bound for a distant swamp. On the borders of the Okefinokee marsh they planned to make their homes. There they would be reasonably safe from the enemy, and even if the Creeks should follow them there, the swamp would afford them a secure retreat.

But this goal was still many miles away, and the fugitives were now pressing toward a little hill, where they expected to make a short halt.

The young men were silent but alert. Now and again one raised his bow and brought down a goose or a wild turkey, and some youngster plunged into the thicket to find it and fetch it to his mother. Here and there were groups of women burdened with kettles and pans and bundles of old clothes, or carrying small children and raising a great clamor of chatter and laughter.

A little apart from the main company a tall and handsome Indian woman plodded silently along by herself. The splendor of her kerchief had been faded by sun and rain; her skirts were torn by briers, but the necklace of silver beads wound many times about her throat retained its glory. On one hip rested a huge basket, packed and corded. Astride the other rode a sturdy-limbed boy of about four years of age. Nearly all day the child had run by her side without complaint. But toward evening he had begun to lag behind, until at last, when, after a good run, he caught up with his mother, he clutched her skirts to help himself along. Then she had stooped and picked him up with a sort of fierce tenderness and in a moment he had fallen asleep.

Soon the Indians reached the hilltop where they were to camp for a few days. Their preparations for the night's rest consisted chiefly in building camp fires; for, though the days were warm, the nights were chilly. Besides, fires were needed to cook food and to keep the wild beasts away during the darkness. A small fire of light brush was made first. Then several large logs were placed about it, each with one end in the flame, so that they looked like the spokes of a great wheel radiating from a center of fire. As the ends of the logs burned away, the fiery ring at the center grew wider and dimmer. When a hotter fire was wanted, the logs were pushed toward the center till the glowing ends came together once more and burned briskly.

On the morning after the Red Sticks went into camp on the hill, while others lounged and talked together, the woman wearing the necklace of silver beads still kept apart. She sat on the unburned end of a fire log and for a time paid no heed to the question her small son had repeated many times. At last she looked up and said: "Do not ask again about the baby with the blue eyes. Do not think of her. She does not cry for you. She plays with little Creek pappooses. She is not your sister any more. Go, play at shooting turkeys with black Jim. He loves you like a brother."

The woman was the daughter of a chief. She had married a man of her own tribe, but after he fell in battle she married a Scotch trader, named Powell, who lived among the Creeks. When the time came for the flight of the Red Sticks her heart turned to her people. She enjoyed too much the glory of being a trader's wife to give up her position and her home without much bitterness. But she was too true an Indian to desert her tribe. As her husband had no notion of leaving his trading station among the Creeks, she had left him and her blue-eyed baby and had come with her kindred, bringing with her her little son, a true Indian, the child of her first husband.

The boy played at shooting wild turkeys with black Jim that day, and many times afterward. As time passed he thought less and less of the blue-eyed sister and more and more of his comrade with a black skin.

II. THE FLORIDA HOME

These Red Sticks were not the first wanderers who had sought homes and safety in Florida. For some fifty years bands of Indians enticed by the rich hunting grounds, or driven by the persecutions of the Creeks, had left their kindred in Georgia and Alabama to try their fortunes in Florida.

They had found other tribes in possession of the peninsula, but the newcomers were more warlike and soon made themselves and their claim to the land respected by the natives. Indeed, the immigrants soon came to be looked upon as the ruling people. They were called Seminoles, which means runaways.

The Seminoles would not attend Creek councils. They refused to be bound by treaties made by the Creeks. In all ways they wished to be considered a separate and distinct people.

Among the Florida Indians there lived a people of another race, the Maroons or free negroes. In those days Florida was owned by Spain. Therefore, American slaves once safely within its borders were free men. They became Spanish subjects and their former masters had no power to reclaim them. Florida formed a convenient refuge, and slaves were sure of welcome there, especially if they were willing to exchange a white master for a red one. Most negroes were glad to do this, for the slaves of the Indians were happy, independent slaves. Their chief duty to their masters was to raise for them a few bushels of corn each year. Though the Indians in general regarded themselves as superior to the negroes, the two races of exiles felt strong sympathy and affection for each other. They lived in the same manner, observing common customs. They fought together against a common enemy. They even intermarried.

But the country was extensive and only thinly settled; and so, notwithstanding the frequent increase of their force by Indians and negroes, warriors were still more valuable than land in the eyes of the Seminoles. The tribe of Red Sticks that went to Florida in 1808 was received with great friendliness.

The Indian woman with the silver beads soon married another brave, and went to live on a "hammock" near Fort King, not far from the place where Ocala now stands. She took with her her son. He was called Powell by some who remembered his stepfather, the trader. But his mother called him Osceola, which means the rising sun. Osceola grew up loving Florida as his home. And, indeed, it was a home that any Indian might have loved.

The climate was healthful for the Indians, and so warm and pleasant that clothing was a matter of small concern. The soil was rich, and corn and koontee were to be had in abundance. The forests were full of deer and small game.

A few skins thrown over some poles afforded sufficient protection for ordinary weather. But if rains made a more substantial dwelling necessary the palmetto furnished material for posts, elevated floor, and thatched roof.

Not least among the advantages of the Florida home were its wonderful waterways leading off through dense mysterious forests, where strange birds called and strange plants grew--a labyrinth full of danger for the intruder, but a safe and joyous retreat for the Seminole floating on the dark water in his dugout.

Though the Indians could have lived comfortably in this country without much effort, the Seminoles did not choose to live in idleness. They saw the flourishing farms of the Spanish settlers and wished to have farms of their own.

So it happened that when Osceola was a boy he saw the Indians around him make the beginnings of what they believed would be permanent homes. He saw them cultivate the soil and tend their herds of cattle and horses and hogs. He watched them build their dwellings and storehouses--palmetto lodges without walls for themselves, substantial log cribs for their corn and potatoes.

When a child, he imitated not only the warriors and hunters, but made cornfields of sand with tall grass spears for cornstalks, and built "camps" and corncribs out of little sticks.

As he grew older he often hoed the corn and ground the koontee and drove the cattle. He did cheerfully the work of a farmer, though he liked best to hunt and fish and explore. He had a strong boat made by burning out the heart of a large cypress log. In this he often glided swiftly and noiselessly down some stream where the salmon trout lived. He held in his right hand a tough spear, made of a charred reed with a barbed end. When he saw a fish almost as large as himself close at hand he hurled his harpoon at it with all his force. And the fish darted off, leaving a trail of crimson in the clear water and dragging the boat behind it; for the boy clung to the end of the spear and soused the wounded fish in the water until its strength was exhausted. Then with the help of a friend he dragged it into the boat, and began to watch for another fish.

Osceola was so energetic that he enjoyed work for its own sake. He had unusual endurance, and could keep at work or play long after others were tired. He was a famous ball player, and distinguished himself at the green corn dances. There he drank without flinching such large draughts of the bitter "black drink" that he was nick-named by some "Asseola," which means "black drink."

Once when acting as a guide for a party of Spanish horsemen he asked them why they rode so slowly. They told him that as he was unmounted they traveled easily to accommodate him. He laughed and replied that they might go as fast as they liked, they would hear no complaint from him. At this they spurred their horses to a livelier pace. Then seeing that Osceola still seemed to be making little effort they rode faster and faster to test his swiftness and strength. They were soon convinced that the young Indian had made no idle boast, and rode the entire day as if all the members of the party had had horses. When they reached the end of their journey Osceola seemed less tired than the horsemen.

Osceola was not only active and enduring. He was also generous and helpful. His bright face, his frank manner, and true kindness made him a great favorite with all who knew him, Indians, negroes, or white men.

III. THE FIRST SEMINOLE WAR

When Osceola was a light-hearted boy of twelve, with kind impulses toward every one, something happened to rouse in him a bitter hatred, a thirst for blood.

During the War of 1812 large numbers of negroes in the South took advantage of the general excitement to make good their escape from bondage. The Indians welcomed them and shielded them from bands of slave hunters that made sallies into the Spanish territory for the purpose of recapturing them. In this the Indians were aided by the British, who saw an opportunity to make trouble for the republic on its southern border, while the United States troops were occupied on the Canadian frontier. A British agent built a strong fort on Spanish soil on the Appalachicola River. After the close of the war the British withdrew and left the fort, well filled with ammunition, in the hands of the Indians and negroes.

The Seminoles and their negro friends rejoiced over this. They could not foresee the doom that this fort was to bring upon them.

For many years the Southern people had complained bitterly against the Seminole Indians for "stealing," as they said, their slaves. The "stealing" consisted in receiving and protecting runaways. The feeling against the Indians was so strong that expeditions into Spanish territory had been made by people on the frontier to capture slaves and punish the Seminoles. But this fort would now be a hindrance to such forays, and the slaveholders demanded that it should be destroyed. They were so persistent in their demands that General Andrew Jackson gave General Gaines directions to invade Spanish territory with United States troops to blow up the fort and return the "stolen negroes" to their rightful owners.

For miles up and down the Appalachicola River the land along the banks was cultivated and divided into small farms, where Indians and negroes lived. When these farmers learned of the approach of the enemy they fled with their wives and children to the fort for protection. Over three hundred men, women, and children crowded into the fort, feeling sure of safety. But when the troops attacked them by land and water, and the cannon roared about the walls of the fort, they were panic-stricken. The women and children shrieked and wrung their hands. The men did not know what to do; they rent the air with fearful yells, but made little attempt at resistance. What would they not have given to exchange the fort walls for an open boat and the endless waterways of the forest?

They were not left long to fear and regret. The enemy promptly accomplished its purpose. A redhot ball reached the powder magazine of the fort. A terrible explosion followed, destroying the fort and bringing instant death to two hundred and seventy of its inmates.

The story of the horrible death, of the mutilated bodies of the injured men carried off on the boats of the white men, spread all over Florida. At every camp fire the tale was told, and all the old savage thirst for vengeance was stirred in the hearts of men who had begun to care for crops and herds and to dream of days of peace.

The Indians knew that peace with the white man was best for them. But Indian blood had been shed and peace was impossible. Preparations began at once for what was afterward known in history as the First Seminole War. The Indians bought arms and powder from Spanish and British traders. They practised shooting. They explored the country for safe retreats and excellent ambushes. They raised their crops and harvested them. A year passed before the first stroke of vengeance fell.

A boat carrying supplies to Fort Scott was surprised by Indians, and its crew, passengers, and military escort were overpowered and killed. The War Department had been expecting some hostile act on the part of the Seminoles, and was ready for war. The massacre in the vicinity of Fort Scott is usually regarded as the cause of the war of 1818, though it was not without its cause, as has been shown.

General Jackson promptly invaded Florida with a strong force of United States troops and Creek Indians, to punish the Seminoles. He was met by a motley crowd of Indians and negroes. Even children joined their fathers to resist the approach of the whites and Creeks. Though they did not present an imposing appearance, the Florida Indians and their allies proved to be desperate fighters.

General Jackson first moved against the settlements on the Appalachicola. The Indians and negroes made a stand and fought a battle, but were obliged to retreat. Jackson then secured the provisions the Indians had stored there, burned the villages and pushed on to St. Marks and then to the valley of the Suwanee.