PART IIThe Florida Seminoles of To-day
PART IIThe Florida Seminoles of To-day
PART SECONDThe Present Condition and Attitude of the Seminoles
To-daythe Seminoles of Florida are a beggared and spectral type of a once powerful race. And in their swamp homes we find these brown-skinned people, living in the primeval customs of their fathers, little changed from the Indians De Soto found in the “Land of Flowers,” or Columbus upon the little island upon which he landed the weary and anxious cargo of the frail Pinta, and of whom he wrote to his Queen, “Because they showed much kindliness for us, and because I know they would be more easily made Christians through love than fear, I gave to them some glass beads for their necks, some red caps with which they were so delighted and entirely ours, it was a marvel to see.”
Thus we have dispossessed the original owners of as goodly a land as the sun ever shone upon, a land that cost us nothing but the beads of the early adventurers and the bullets of their successors, a race, savages ’tis true, but heroes many of them, and proud and courtly as their conquerors.
The American people expend thousands of dollars annually in scientific research for antiquities and many more thousands are spent by the antiquarianfor the preservation of the relics and ancient records. The North American Indian is fast vanishing from the continent. Are not the Seminoles of Florida, the descendants of the old monarchs, this race around which shadowy romance hovers, as worthy of preservation as the inanimate treasures of ancient Egypt? Are there no Rameses in American history? In the old turbaned tribe of Florida, we have a remnant of the most picturesque, deserving and moral of all the Aborigines of America, and they belong to a type that is everywhere else extinct. Are they not worth preserving and protecting to a point worthy the proud and historic name of Seminole?
Secure in the mysterious marshes, these Indians present an eloquent picture of a helpless wandering tribe.
At the close of the war, a few bands of the Indians refused to submit to banishment and, concealing themselves in the fastnesses of the Everglades, made their removal an impossibility. This part of the tribe, according to their traditions, belonged originally to the Aztec race and for this reason they claim a preëminence over all the tribes of Aborigines of America.
Though defeated in war, they never submitted to the Government of the United States, and hence regard themselves as more valiant in defense, more determined in purpose than that part of the tribe which succumbed to emigration to the Indian Territory; in fact, the old chieftains say of the Indians who emigrated, “Arkansas Indians, cowards and traitors.”
So to-day the Seminoles of Florida occupy a unique position with respect to the United States Government, as, being unconquered and unsubdued, having no legal existence nor allegiance to our Nation; in short, so far as the United States is concerned officially,there are no Indians in Florida.
The tribe to-day numbers about 600 souls, living at peace with all mankind, independent, but suspicious of Washington officials, only asking to be let alone, a homeless people in a free land, ever pushing on before the insatiable cupidity of the white man.
An inexorable decree has forced the Florida Indian into the most desolate lands of Florida. Where they once trod as masters they now fear to place foot. We cannot be unmoved by the thought that here are the tattered and poverty stricken handfuls of a tribe of warriors that held at bay a strong government for half a century, a tribe that counted their cattle, their lands and their slaves in magnificent proportions. At the present time, to avoid complications with the South Florida cattle herders none of the race are permitted to own cattle. There is a certain pathos in the Indian’s story of his relation to the white race, which arrests our attention and compels sympathy. But, it is destiny! What of the future? Touch any point in the red man’s history, where you will, or how you will, and the helpless savage always gets the worst of it.
There is no use in muck-raking about it. We are leisurely taking our time at finishing the extermination of the original American. Whether or not thefuture historian chronicles this as a century of dishonor, the fact remains that, since he could not withstand the white faces, the Indian will go—pass out of existence.
We judge the Indian too harshly. It is hard to give up old traditions, especially if the adherence to them means a life of ease. We are all in the pursuit of that which will make us happy.
The story is the old one of merciless extinction of the lower race before the higher. It is a story of the “survival of the fittest.” The Florida Indian can go no further. An old anecdote is brought to light which illustrates the Indian’s own view of the case. The famous Seneca chief, Red Jacket, once met a government agent, and after pleasant greetings they both sat down on a log, when Red Jacket asked the agent to “move along.” The agent did so and the chief followed. This was done several times, the agent humoring the whim of the old chief, until he had reached the end of the log, when the same request, “move along” was repeated. “Why, man,” angrily replied the agent, “I can’t move along further without getting off the log into the mud.” “Ugh! Just so white man want Indian to move along—move along; can’t go no further, yet he say move along.” And so with the Seminole to-day. The clearings they have made in the forests and the only homes they have ever known have been bought from the State by speculators and they are compelled to “move along.” The history of the western Indian as he sells or surrenders the heart of his greatreservation proves that the white man will have his way. The broken treaties of the past the Seminole has not forgotten. The old chiefs are as proud as the most imperious king. They regard these lands as their own, and cannot understand the Government’s claim. They say “What right has the big white chief at Washington to give to us what is already ours—the lands of our fathers?” The white man who receives any confidence from the Florida Indian must indeed possess great magnetism, for the Seminole is suspicious of every overture and will mislead his questioner on all occasions. And while the white man is studying “poor Lo,” “poor Lo” is similarly engaged in studying him, and continually revolving in his suspicious mind, “what can pale face want from the Indian anyway?”
The chiefs have taught the young braves all about the outrages perpetrated upon their tribe by unscrupulous agents during the wars; and while the Indians themselves in many cases practiced cruelty, it was always in retaliation forsome grievous wrongof anterior date. History records case after case of robberies and enormities committed on the Seminoles previous to the war and during its progress. Micanopy requested a lawyer to draw a form of writing for him which soon after proved to be a conveyance of a valuable tract of land! Afterwards the war-whoop and the deadly hand of Micanopy was heard and felt among the swamps and prairies. Micanopy was one of the most powerful, as well as one of the wealthiest Seminole chieftains. His estate, a milesquare, he ceded to the United States. Of the disposition of his slaves—he had eighty—nothing is said.
In connection with the portrait of Micanopy as used in this volume, this bit of almost forgotten history is worth mention. When the famous Indian portrait painter, Catlin, was commissioned by the War Department to paint the most prominent chiefs then in captivity at Fort Moultrie, Micanopy, as chief of the Nation, was first approached, but positively refused to be painted. After much persuasion, he at last consented, saying, “If you make a fair likeness of my legs,” which he had very tastefully dressed in a handsome pair of red leggins, “you may paint Micanopy for the Great Father,” “upon which, I at once began,” says Catlin, “as he sat cross legged, by painting them upon the lower part of the canvas, leaving room for the body and head above.”
When the chief saw every line and curve brought out on the canvas he smiled his approval, and the work proceeded, to the delight of both artist and subject.
In the mutual relations between the whites and the Indians it requires no skilled advocate to show on which side must lie the wrongs unrepaired and unavenged. Without doubt the Indian has always been the victim. One thing is certain, the Indian chiefs, when fairly dealt with, have always evinced an earnest desire to make just terms. Ever since the Caucasian landed on the shores of America, a white manwith a gun has been watching the Indian. Four centuries have gone and with them a record of broken treaties and violated pledges. The records of the Indian Bureau support the statement that, before the first half of the present century had passed, we had broken seven solemn treaties with the Creeks, eleven with the Cherokees; the Chickasaws and Choctaws suffered too, saying nothing of smaller tribes. History reveals how well the Delawares fought for us in the Revolutionary War. They were brave “allies,” fighting out of loyalty to the “Alliance,” and inspired by the promised reward, viz.: “The territorial right to a State as large as Pennsylvania and a right to representation in our Congress.” But where are the Delawares to-day? One remove after another was made until we find only a remnant existing—some with the Cherokees, and a few with the Wichita agency.
A great deal has been written about the Florida Indian which is not in accordance with facts. There are many obstacles in the way of an intimate acquaintance with their customs and home life. Living as they do in the almost inaccessible morasses, their contact with civilization has been regulated by their own volition. Visitors, traders and government agents have been denied their confidence, and it is only on their visits to settlements for the purpose of trading that they meet the white man. At such times the Seminole is on the alert, ever suspicious, and to the numerous interrogations applied to him by the inquisitive stranger, his answer is an indifferent“Me don’t know.” When questions become of a personal character, touching upon subjects sacred to a Seminole, he quietly walks away, leaving his questioner wondering.
The Seminoles live to themselves, shun all intimacy with the Caucasian, and their personal appearance is therefore almost unknown to Americans. The greater part of the tribe seldom, if ever, leave their marshy homes. To reach their camps uninhabitable wilds must be traversed and sometimes miles of mud and water waded, then perhaps only to find the camp deserted. For, while the Seminole has regular settlements, at various times during the year the entire camp will assemble at some point where game is abundant and a “big hunt” will occupy a few weeks. Again syrup boiling will be the festival all will join in; at another time a large quantity of koonti (wild cassava) will be made into flour. At these gatherings the tribe or families occupy temporary dwellings called lodges.
The innate dislike of the Seminole toward strangers is his hardest prejudice to overcome; yet he is hospitable when he convinces himself that the visitor is no Government agent, nor come for any mercenary motive. The person who is fortunate enough to reach their hunting grounds, secure their confidence, observe their weird home life, and their childish untutored ways, meets with an attractive spectacle of romance and may study these aborigines in their primeval customs. For to-day, with the exception of the chiefs and a few ofthe adventuresome warriors,they know nothing of the innovations of the last half century. So strong are they in their resolution to hold no intercourse with our nation, that neither bribery nor cajolery will have any effect upon them. A few years ago an effort was made by the authorities of the Sub-Tropical Exposition at Jacksonville, Florida, to secure a few of the Seminole braves for exhibition. After many proffered bribes, the young warriors with the adventurous spirit of youth consented to go to the “big city.” A council was held and the chiefs said “halwuk(it is bad); if you go you never come back.” The council of the chiefs is always respected and the young braves remained with their fathers.
By the courtesy of the American Bureau of Ethnology.A SEMINOLE DWELLING
By the courtesy of the American Bureau of Ethnology.A SEMINOLE DWELLING
A SEMINOLE DWELLING
The life of the Seminole has been without any aid or instruction from the white man. He has adopted a few of the implements, weapons and utensils of civilization; but in no other way has he imitated his pale-faced brother. In the natural course of evolution he has made some progress; he has not degenerated.
Government reports show an annual appropriation of almost $7,000,000 for the Indian service; yet the Florida Indian has not received any part of it and without it he has shown a prosperous condition. The Smithsonian report, in comparing this interesting people with the native white settlers, says “that success in agriculture and domestic industries is not to be attributed wholly to the favorable character of the climate and soil; for, surrounded by the same conditions, many white men are lazy and improvident,while the Seminoles are industrious and frugal.”
President Cleveland in his message for 1895 pertinently says, “In these days, when white agriculturists and stock raisers of experience and intelligence find their lot a hard one, we ought not to expect Indians to support themselves on lands usually allotted to them.”
Years later, while the late lamented ex-President was fishing in New River at the edge of the Everglades, he said, “This country was made for the Seminoles and they should be permitted to live here undisturbed forever.”
Yet in Florida, we find the red race not only self-sustaining, but refusing any aid from our Government. Twenty years ago the Government appropriated $6,000, “to enable the Seminoles of Florida to obtain homesteads upon the public lands, and to establish themselves thereon.” A few of the Indians consented to accept; but the agent, on investigation, found that the lands which the Indians desired had passed into State or Improvement Companies. Today the Seminole is embittered; and, having been driven from one reservation to another, he refuses to exchange “Indian’s good lands for white man’s bad lands,” and in the bitterness of his conquered spirit, takes his dusky tribe to the dark shadows of the cypress swamps, where no pale-faced Government officer dare disturb him. Again Congress tacked an item to the appropriation act, giving $7,000 “for the support of the Seminoles of Florida, for the erection and furnishing of a school for teachers and the furnishingof seeds and implements for agricultural purposes.” In the winter of 1889, an agent inspired with confidence in himself, and with the hope of manipulating a $12,000 appropriation, came to Florida by appointment from Washington to renew the effort “to find suitable lands upon which to settle the Indians, and to furnish the seat of an educational establishment.” Securing an interpreter the agent visited the Indian camp. A council of chiefs listened quietly to his overtures, but with the same proud spirit of Osceola’s day, they refused firmly to accept any aid from a Government which they regard as having stolen from them the lands of their fathers. As the agent dwelt on the presents the red men of Florida should receive from the big white chief, Tiger Tail, a worthy descendant of the invulnerable Tustenuggee, replied, “You came from Great Chief? You say that Great Chief give Indian plow, wagon, hoe?” Then pointing in the direction of a small settlement of shiftless whites, he added, “He poor man, give ’em him. Indian no want ’em.” Delivering his speech with the spirit of an old Norse King, the chief strode majestically away, leaving the agent no nearer the fulfillment of his trust.
An Indian Agency was established, however, in Florida in 1892, located east of Fort Myers, and about thirty-five miles from the nearest Seminole camp. It was supported by a yearly appropriation of $6,000, the appropriation act reading, “For the support, civilization and instruction of the Seminole Indians in Florida $6,000, one-half of which summay be expended at the discretion of the Secretary of Interior in procuring permanent homes for said Indians.”
The Government built a saw mill, and attempted a school, but the Indians, according to the statement of Col. C. C. Duncan, U. S. Indian Inspector at that time, refused to send their children to the school or to work at the saw mill. Many white traders who purchase hides, plumes and furs from the Indians, tell them that the establishment of an agency is for the purpose of rounding them up and sending them west. These Indians have been cheated and baffled so often by knaves, who go among them for that purpose, that they imagine all whites to be of the same character, and cannot tell whether a “talk” comes from their great white father at Washington, or whether some imposter be imposing upon them for his own gains; hence, the Seminole never removed his cloak of suspicion. Little progress was made and the work of the agency as a government institution was abandoned.
Once or twice it has been tried to locate the Seminoles, but when the chiefs examined the land, they found it “ho-lo-wa-gus” (no good) and they refused the offer.