The Seminoles

From the time of the chimerical cruising of Old Ponce de Leon in search of
the Fountain of Youth, the avaricious expedition of Pamphilo de Narvaez in
quest of gold, and the chivalrous enterprise of Hernando de Soto, to
discover and conquer a second Mexico, the natives of Florida have been
continually subjected to the invasions and encroachments of white men. They
have resisted them perseveringly but fruitlessly, and are now battling amid
swamps and morasses for the last foothold of their native soil, with all
the ferocity of despair. Can we wonder at the bitterness of a hostility
that has been handed down from father to son, for upward of three
centuries, and exasperated by the wrongs and miseries of each succeeding
generation! The very name of the savages with which we are fighting
betokens their fallen and homeless condition. Formed of the wrecks of once
powerful tribes, and driven from their ancient seats of prosperity and
dominion, they are known by the name of the Seminoles, or "Wanderers."

Bartram, who traveled through Florida in the latter part of the last
century, speaks of passing through a great extent of ancient Indian fields,
now silent and deserted, overgrown with forests, orange groves, and rank
vegetation, the site of the ancient Alachua, the capital of a famous and
powerful tribe, who in days of old could assemble thousands at bull-play
and other athletic exercises "over these then happy fields and green
plains." "Almost every step we take," adds he, "over these fertile heights,
discovers the remains and traces of ancient human habitations and
cultivation."

About the year 1763, when Florida was ceded by the Spaniards to the
English, we are told that the Indians generally retired from the towns and
the neighborhood of the whites, and burying themselves in the deep forests,
intricate swamps and hommocks, and vast savannas of the interior, devoted
themselves to a pastoral life, and the rearing of horses and cattle. These
are the people that received the name of the Seminoles, or Wanderers, which
they still retain.

Bartram gives a pleasing picture of them at the time he visited them in
their wilderness; where their distance from the abodes of the white man
gave them a transient quiet and security. "This handful of people," says
he, "possesses a vast territory, all East and the greatest part of West
Florida, which being naturally cut and divided into thousands of islets,
knolls, and eminences, by the innumerable rivers, lakes, swamps, vast
savannas, and ponds, form so many secure retreats and temporary
dwelling-places that effectually guard them from any sudden invasions or
attacks from their enemies; and being such a swampy, hommocky