This strong appeal divided the Seminoles, a considerable number consenting to their removal; but Osceola would not hear of such a step, and, when protesting against the matter in the presence of General Thompson, grew so angry that he drew a knife. "Arrest this man, immediately!" cried the now irate soldier, "and put him in irons until further orders."
Maddened and outraged by this treatment, Osceola secretly swore revenge. The devil rose in the soul of this mongrel of the Florida canebrakes, and he made an oath to never rest until he had the life blood of General Thompson. But, simulating a spirit of peace, he agreed to sign the treaty, and to do all in his power to persuade his people to follow his example. He was playing a part, and his true nature soon asserted itself, after seventy-nine of his people (men, women, and children) signed the compact with the Government of the United States at Fort King. Osceola, himself, put his name to the deed, but two weeks later shot down a white interloper who had penetrated the dense jungle of the Everglades, where he had made his home. Soon all of the Seminoles were in arms, and the Government of the United States was plunged into a desperate conflict, which was to last for seven long and tedious years.
There were three important and crucial events in this bitter struggle. One was the annihilation of Major Dade and his men; another the shooting of General Thompson, and a third the capture and death of the crafty and treacherous Osceola.
Only five hundred regular troops of the United States army were in Florida in the fall of 1836. One company was at St. Augustine; six were in the centre of the state at Fort King, and three were near what is now the town of Tampa, at Fort Brooke on Hillsboro Bay. "Two companies will leave Fort Brooke on December 16th, to meet an equal number from Fort King near the forks of the Ouithlacoochee River, in order to make an active campaign against the Seminoles," wrote General Clinch, the director of the Southern army at that time, to the commander at Fort Brooke. So, collecting the necessary men, that part of the expedition which was to come from Fort Brooke was soon made up, placed under the charge of Major Francis L. Dade, who had fought gallantly at Tippecanoe twenty-five years before, and, with one hundred and nine effectives, and a guide (half negro and half Spanish) started towards the place of rendezvous. One six-pound cannon, drawn by four oxen, brought up the rear.
The troops were not able to make speedy progress, for tangled weeds, branches, and vines grew across the roadway in dense confusion. In four days they only went sixty-five miles into the jungle, in whose dank and soggy depths the keen eyes of Osceola's men watched like ferrets. Lean-bodied warriors crept like snakes through the undergrowth, by paths known to themselves alone, and kept their cruel chieftain continually advised of the advance of the little army. Even the half-breed guide was a spy and a traitor; he had told the Seminoles by what route the whites were to advance, and had hinted to them that it would be an excellent opportunity to annihilate the entire band. Osceola prepared to do so, and, in a place favorable for attack, collected a strong body of half-naked and well-armed redskins.
On December the 28th, Major Dade's little battalion crossed the waters of the Ouithlacoochee and marched slowly along the sandy trail which was the only road. The ground was rather open and covered with a sparse growth of tropical palmettos. On the right was a small pond, surrounded by a swampy marsh, overgrown with rank grass, five feet high, and scrubby bushes and trees. On the left it was open and without much grass. The troops pushed on unsuspectingly, but behind the rank growth of weeds several hundred Seminoles, under Micanopy, lay in ambush. Osceola was away upon a mission of death, and had left strict orders that not a savage was to fire his piece until the signal was given.
The Americans were strung out in a long line, and were totally unsuspicious of any attack. Two Lieutenants were in the advance, and after them marched Major Dade with the main force, the six-pounder in the midst of the light-hearted soldiers. They trudged along singing, but Micanopy had his eye upon the leader of the expedition, and, as he passed by, the Indian took careful aim at his head. Crack! a rifle shot rang out upon the clear air, the gallant Major fell prostrate to the ground, and, with a wild, blood-curdling warwhoop, the Seminole warriors discharged a gruelling volley into the advancing column. The two Lieutenants in front immediately went down. The suddenness of the attack appalled and staggered the Americans.
But, although staggered, there was no panic, and the whites were not disorganized. With immediate promptitude the soldiers fell back from the road into the trees, and returned the rifle fire of their savage enemies. Crouching behind fallen logs and palmetto stumps, they only discharged their muskets when they saw a redskin show himself, and so accurate was their fire that the attackers finally withdrew. For forty minutes the battle had raged with fury.