Such was the report given to the world.
It was not true.
It was not a full council of chiefs; it was an assembly of traitors bribed and suborned, of weak men flattered and intimidated. No wonder the nation refused to accede to this surreptitious covenant; no wonder they heeded not its terms; but had to be summoned to still another council, for a freer and fuller signification of their consent.
It soon became evident that the great body of the Seminole nation repudiated the treaty. Many of the chiefs denied having signed it. The head chief, Onopa, denied it. Some confessed the act, but declared they had been drawn into it by the influence and advice of others. It was only the more powerful leaders of clans — as the brothers Omatla, Black Clay, and Big Warrior — who openly acknowledged the signing.
These last became objects of jealousy throughout the tribes; they were regarded as traitors, and justly so. Their lives were in danger; even their own retainers disapproved of what they had done.
To understand the position, it is necessary to say a word of the political status of the Seminoles. Their government was purely republican — a thorough democracy. Perhaps in no other community in the world did there exist so perfect a condition of freedom; I might add happiness, for the latter is but the natural offspring of the former. Their state has been compared to that of the clans of Highland Scotland. The parallel is true only in one respect. Like the Gael, the Seminoles were without any common organisation. They lived in "tribes" far apart, each politically independent of the other; and although in friendly relationship, there was no power of coercion between them. There was a "head chief" — king he could not be called — for "Mico," his Indian title, has not that signification. The proud spirit of the Seminole had never sold itself to so absurd a condition; they had not yet surrendered up the natural rights of man. It is only after the state of nature has been perverted and abased, that the "kingly" element becomes strong among a people.
The head "mico" of the Seminoles was only a head in name. His authority was purely personaclass="underline" he had no power over life or property. Though occasionally the wealthiest, he was often one of the poorest of his people. He was more open than any of the others to the calls of philanthropy, and ever ready to disburse with free hand, what was in reality, not his people’s, but his own. Hence he rarely grew rich.
He was surrounded by no retinue, girt in by no barbarian pomp or splendour, flattered by no flunkey courtiers, like the rajahs of the east, or, on a still more costly scale, the crowned monarchs of the west. On the contrary, his dress was scarcely conspicuous, often meaner than those around him. Many a common warrior was far more gaillard than he.
As with the head chief, so with the chieftains of tribes; they possessed no power over life or property; they could not decree punishment. A jury alone can do this; and I make bold to affirm, that the punishments among these people were in juster proportion to the crimes than those decreed in the highest courts of civilisation.
It was a system of the purest republican freedom, without one idea of the levelling principle; for merit produced distinction and authority. Property was not in common, though labour was partially so; but this community of toil was a mutual arrangement, agreeable to all. The ties of family were as sacred and strong as ever existed on earth.
And these were savages forsooth — red savages, to be dispossessed of their rights — to be driven from hearth and home — to be banished from their beautiful land to a desert wild — to be shot down and hunted like beasts of the field! The last in its most literal sense, for dogs were to be employed in the pursuit!
Chapter Nineteen
An Indian Hero
There were several reasons why the treaty of the Oclawaha could not be considered binding on the Seminole nation. First, it was not signed by a majority of the chiefs. Sixteen chiefs and sub-chiefs appended their names to it. There were five times this number in the nation.
Second, it was, after all, no treaty, but a mere conditional contract — the conditions being that a deputation of Seminoles should first proceed to the lands allotted in the west (upon White River), examine these lands, and bring back a report to their people. The very nature of this condition proves that no contract for removal could have been completed, until the exploration had been first accomplished.
The examination was made. Seven chiefs, accompanied by an agent, journeyed to the far west, and made a survey of the lands.
Now, mark the craft of the commissioner! These seven chiefs are nearly all taken from those friendly to the removal. We find among them both the Omatlas, and Black Clay. True, there is Hoitle-mattee (jumper), a patriot, but this brave warrior is stricken with the Indian curse — he loves the fire-water; and his propensity is well-known to Phagan, the agent, who accompanies them.
A ruse is contemplated, and is put in practice. The deputation is hospitably entertained at Fort Gibson, on the Arkansas. Hoitle-mattee is made merry — the contract for removal is spread before the seven chiefs — they all sign it: and the juggle is complete.
But even this was no fulfilment of the terms of the Oclawaha covenant. The deputation was to return with their report, and ask the will of the nation. That was yet to be given; and, in order to obtain it, a new council of all the chiefs and warriors must be summoned.
It was to be a mere formality. It was well-known that the nation as a body disapproved of the facile conduct of the seven chiefs, and would not endorse it. They were not going to "move."
This was the more evident, since other conditions of the treaty were daily broken. One of these was the restoration of runaway slaves, which the signers of the Oclawaha treaty had promised to send back to their owner. No blacks were sent back; on the contrary, they now found refuge among the Indians more secure than ever.
The commissioner knew all this. He was calling the new council out of mere formality. Perhaps he might persuade them to sign — if not, he intended to awe them into the measure, or force them at the point of the bayonet. He had said as much. Troops were concentrating at the agency — Fort King — and others were daily arriving at Tampa Bay. The government had taken its measures; and coercion was resolved upon.
I was not ignorant of what was going on, nor of all that had happened during my long years of absence. My comrades, the cadets, were well versed in Indian affairs, and took a lively interest in them — especially those who expected soon to escape from the college walls. "Black Hawk’s war," just terminated in the west, had already given some a chance of service and distinction, and young ambition was now bending its eyes upon Florida.
The idea, however, of obtaining glory in such a war was ridiculed by all. "It would be too easy a war — the foe was not worth considering. A mere handful of savages," asserted they; "scarcely enough of them to stand before a single company. They would be either killed or captured in the first skirmish, one and all of them — there was not the slightest chance of their making any protracted resistance — unfortunately, there was not."
Such was the belief of my college companions; and, indeed, the common belief of the whole country, at that time. The army, too, shared it. One officer was heard to boast that he could march through the whole Indian territory with only a corporal’s guard at his back; and another, with like bravado, wished that the government would give him a charter of the war, on his own account. He would finish it for 10,000 dollars!
These only expressed the sentiments of the day. No one believed that the Indians would or could sustain a conflict with us for any length of time; indeed, there were few who could be brought to think that they would resist at alclass="underline" they were only holding out for better terms, and would yield before coming to blows.