The Seminoles of Florida

by Minnie Moore-Willson

While Osceola lay in wait for General Thompson, plans were being completed which resulted in the Dade Massacre.

The enmity of the Indian is proverbial, and when we reflect that for fifty years the persecutions by the whites had been “talked” in their camps, that the massacre of Blount’s Fort was still unavenged, that within memory fathers and mothers had been torn, moaning and groaning from their midst, to be sold into bondage, with their savage natures all on fire for retaliation, no vengeance was too terrible.

Hostilities around Fort King, now the present site of Ocala, becoming severe, General Clinch ordered the troops under Major Dade, then stationed at Fort Brooke (Tampa), to march to his assistance. Neither officers nor soldiers were acquainted with the route, and a negro guide was detailed to lead them. This unique character was Louis Pacheo, a negro slave belonging to an old Spanish family, then living near Fort Brooke. The slave was well acquainted with the Indians, spoke the Seminole tongue fluently. He was reported by his master, as faithful, intelligent and trustworthy, and was perfectly familiar with the route to Fort King.

AN INDIAN RETREAT DURING THE SEMINOLE WAR

The affair of Dade’s Massacre is without a parallel in the history of Indian warfare. Of the 110 souls, who, with flying flags and sounding bugles merrily responded to General Clinch’s order, but two lived to describe in after years the tragic scenes. One was Private Clark, of the 2nd Artillery, who, wounded and sick crawled on his hands and knees a distance of sixty miles to Fort Brooke. The other was Louis Pacheo, the only person of the command who escaped without a wound.

The assault was made shortly after the troops crossed the Withlacoochee river, in a broad expanse of open pine woods, with here and there clumps of palmettoes and tall wire-grass. The Indians are supposed to have out-numbered the command, two to one, and at a given signal, as the troops marched gayly along, a volley of shot was poured into their number. The “gallant Dade” was the first to fall, pierced by a ball from Micanopy’s musket, who was the King of the Seminole nation. A breastwork was attempted by the soldiers, but only served as a retreat for a short time; the hot missiles from the Indians soon laid the last man motionless, and the slaughter was at an end.

On February 20, 1836, almost two months after the massacre, the dead bodies of the officers and soldiers were found just as they had fallen on that fatal day. History is corroborated by old settlers, who say “that the dead were in no way pillaged; articles the most esteemed by savages were untouched, their watches were found in their pockets, and money, in silver and gold, was left to decay with its owner—a lesson to all the world—a testimony that the Indians were not fighting for plunder! The arms and ammunition were all that had been taken, except the uniform coat of Major Dade.” Their motive was higher and purer; they were fighting for their rights, their homes, their very existence.

What became of the negro guide? History records that Louis, knowing the time and place at which the attack was to be made, separated himself from the troops. As soon as the fire commenced, he joined the Indians and negroes, and lent his efforts in carrying forth the work of death. An account printed over forty years ago describes the character of the negro Louis. It reads as follows:

“The life of the slave Louis is perhaps the most romantic of any man now living. Born and reared a slave, he found time to cultivate his intellect—was fond of reading; and while gentlemen in the House of Representatives were engaged in discussing the value of his bones and sinews, he could probably speak and write more languages with ease and facility than any member of that body. In revenge for the oppression to which he was subjected, he conceived the purpose of sacrificing a regiment of white men, who were engaged in the support of slavery. This object effected, he asserted his own natural right to freedom, joined his brethren, and made bloody war upon the enemies of liberty. For two years he was the steady companion of Coacoochee, or, as he was afterwards called, ‘Wild Cat,’ who subsequently became the most warlike chief in Florida. They traversed the forests of that territory together, wading through swamps and everglades, groping their way through hommocks, and gliding over prairies. For two years they stood shoulder to shoulder in every battle; shared their victories and defeats together; and, when General Jessup had pledged the faith of the nation that all Indians who would surrender should be protected in the enjoyment of their slaves, Wild Cat appeared at headquarters, followed by Louis, whom he claimed as his property, under slaveholding law, as he said he had captured him at the time of Dade’s defeat.”