History of the Third Seminole War, 1849–1858

By Joe Knetsch, John Missall and Mary Lou Missall

This definitive account of the final war between the US government and Florida’s Seminole tribe “brings to life a conflict that is largely ignored” (San Francisco Book Review).

Spanning a period of over forty years (1817–1858), the three Seminole Wars were America’s longest, costliest, and deadliest Indian wars, surpassing the more famous ones fought in the West. After an uneasy peace following the conclusion of the second Seminole War in 1842, a series of hostile events, followed by a string of murders in 1849 and 1850, made confrontation inevitable. The war was also known as the “Billy Bowlegs War” because Billy Bowlegs, Holata Micco, was the central Seminole leader in this the last Indian war to be fought east of the Mississippi River. Pushed by increasing encroachment into their territory, he led a raid near Fort Myers. A series of violent skirmishes ensued. The vastness of the Floridian wilderness and the difficulties of the terrain and climate caused problems for the army, but they had learned lessons from the second war, and, amongst other new tactics, employed greater use of boats, eventually securing victory by cutting off food supplies.

History of the Third Seminole War is a detailed narrative of the war and its causes, containing numerous firsthand accounts from participants in the conflict, derived from virtually all the available primary sources, collected over many years. “Any reader interested in learning more about Indian wars, Army history, or Florida history will profit from reading this book,” as well as Civil War enthusiasts, since many of the officers earned their stripes in the earlier conflict (The Journal of America’s Military Past).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Casemate Publishers
• Release date: Jan 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781612005775

Joe Knetsch

Nick Wynne is a retired historian who lives along the shore of the Indian River Lagoon. He is also the author of numerous books, including novels about the rural South. He is a graduate of the University of Georgia. Robert Redd is a native Floridian with a longtime interest in history. He holds degrees from Stetson University and American Public University. He is a member of the Florida Historical Society, Southern Historical Society, American Battlefield Trust and other organizations. Joe Knetsch is a graduate of Florida State University and the author of multiple books on Florida history. He retired from the Florida Department of Natural Resources and now serves as an expert witness in court cases involving land usage and navigable water rights. He is a much-in-demand speaker for various historical groups.

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Preface

For many students of Florida or Native American history, the Third Seminole War may appear to be nothing more than an afterthought to the much larger Second Seminole War. When the grueling, seven-year Second Seminole War ended in 1842, the few hundred Seminole who were still in Florida were allowed to remain in the inhospitable Everglades and Big Cypress Swamp. As far as the government was concerned, the arrangement was a temporary affair, its duration subject to the wants and needs of white Floridians. Officials believed that conflict between settlers and Indians on the expanding frontier was inevitable, and when the time came, the work of removing every last Indian from Florida would recommence and continue until the task was complete.

The Seminole, of course, had a completely different outlook on the matter. As far as they were concerned, the war was over, and they had won the right to remain in their Florida homes. No one had put a time limit on the agreement, and as long as they kept their part of the bargain, why should things change? In truth, the whole idea of individual wars with the Americans was somewhat lost on the Seminole. From the Indian perspective, the Americans had been unrelenting in their attempts to take the Indians’ Florida homelands since at least 1812. In their eyes it had been one continual conflict, sometimes waged at the negotiating table, sometimes on the battlefield. True, there were periods of peace, but never could the Seminole feel secure in their homes. White covetousness might abate for awhile, but it would never go away.

This difference in perspective is easy to understand. To the Seminole, the struggle to remain in their native land was the most important thing in their collective existence. To most whites, on the other hand, the Seminole were a minor consideration, at least until violence or warfare broke out. Where the Seminole saw continual diplomatic pressure to give up their homes, the whites saw peace. Notwithstanding, even the Seminole recognized that there were times when the status quo changed. Instead of angry words flying, deadly bullets were flying. Instead of wanting to kill and destroy, the restraints had broken down and people were actually doing it. They also recognized the opposite. There were times when the shooting stopped and at least the semblance of a normal existence could resume.

As historians, we need to define certain time periods and give them names. Without such labels, how could we explain their significance? It’s all part of the human need to organize our world, just like putting mile markers along a highway or having a categorized bookshelf. In the conflict between the Seminole and the United States, three distinct periods of open warfare have historically stood out: The First Seminole War (1817–1818), the Second Seminole War (1835–1842), and the Third Seminole War (1855–1858). These are, of course, modern designations. People of the time had different names for the conflicts. The First War was generally known as The Seminole War, and the Second War was usually referred to as The Florida War. The Third Seminole war was different. Because most whites saw it as a resumption of the previous war, no special name was given it at the time. One name that seemed to stick was The Billy Bowlegs War, in reference to the most visible Seminole leader.

Another thing that separated the Third War from the other two was the lack of a written history. Although no one at the time wrote a history of the First Seminole War, the fact that future president Andrew Jackson was in command meant it was well documented by his biographers. It had also been a subject of controversy in Congress, politics, and the press, which meant there was ample documentary evidence as to what had happened.

The Second Seminole War, being a much larger conflict, was even better covered. After the war’s conclusion, Capt. John T. Sprague wrote The Florida War, using a wealth of official documents and his own personal recollections. Others who had served in the war also wrote journals or lengthy articles in the press. In contrast, little was written about the Third Seminole War. Those who kept journals or letters telling of their experiences didn’t publish them, or if they did it was long afterwards, and often as a small part of a life story that was more concerned with their service in the Civil War.

Indeed, it wasn’t until some 120 years after the war’s conclusion that anyone attempted a true history of the Third Seminole War. Dr. James W. Covington of the University of Tampa had been researching the subject for years, and in 1982 the Mickler House published his book The Billy Bowlegs War. Written under a tight deadline and with the limited source material available at the time, the thin volume (82 pages) has stood the test of time and is still considered the standard on the subject. Unfortunately, the book had a small print run and has been out-of-print for some time and is now difficult to find. Those of us lucky enough to have a copy keep a close eye on it.

So why this new history of the war? For one thing, we now have much more research material on which to base our work. Not only were there three of us working on the project, the advent of the Internet has allowed us to identify, locate, and collect source material much more quickly than Dr. Covington could ever have dreamed possible. By the time all the letters, journals, newspaper articles, and other material was transcribed and put into chronological order, we had approximately 2,000 pages of single-spaced material to use in constructing our history of the war. And while The Billy Bowlegs War does a fine job of telling the events of the war, we felt there was so much more to be added, especially in the way of first-hand accounts from those who were actually waging the war or having to live with its consequences.

Readers will note that in the title of this work we show the dates for the war as being 1849–1858. Traditionally the dates have been 1855–1858, because that is when open warfare was taking place. We chose 1849 for a starting date because that is when hostile events started to happen, and the government began to take definite steps to complete the removal of the remaining Seminole. After the end of the Second Seminole War in 1842 there were seven years of relative peace. This doesn’t mean the long-standing animosities between Indian and white had disappeared, but simply that there was little contact between the two parties outside of normal trade. The Seminole, knowing their continued presence in the state depended upon their causing no trouble for the whites, did their best to keep their distance. On the other side of the coin, white settlement had yet to encroach upon the territory occupied by the Indians, so there was little opportunity for confrontation.

All that changed when a series of murders took place in 1849 and 1850. Although the Indian outlaws who committed the crimes were surrendered to white authorities, relations could not return to normal. The citizens of Florida began to demand the final removal of the Indians to land that had been set aside for them in what is now Oklahoma. From that point forward, the state and federal governments did everything they could short of outright military action to bribe, talk, or force the Seminole out of Florida. The Seminole, in turn, did everything within their power to remain in their homeland. The outbreak of fighting in 1855 was simply the inevitable result of people with two irreconcilable points of view having reached the limits of their patience.

Every story has at least two sides, and this can be easily forgotten when writing about the Seminole Wars. It’s not just the United States waging war against the Seminole; it’s the Seminole waging war against the United States. One side is really no more important than the other. Unfortunately, telling the Seminole side can be extremely difficult for the historian, no matter how well intentioned. Every one of those 2,000 pages of source material we used is written from the white perspective, and there is no way to build an accurate history from any other source. The task is even more difficult for the Third Seminole War than for other conflicts with Native Americans because the Indians were doing everything within their power not to be found, even to the point of refusing to discuss offers of peace. Their only hope of remaining in Florida was to outlast the American will to remove them.

In our other works, especially those that deal with the Second Seminole War, there were numerous times when we could use translations of what the Indian leaders said at peace talks or treaty negotiations that would help give the Native perspective. In the Third War there are very few such opportunities. For the most part, when talks were being held no one was keeping minutes. Most of what we have showing the Native point of view is contained in small bits kept in letters or journals made by whites, and more as personal observations than as historical records. Aware of this, we used whatever sources were available as much as possible, fully understanding that it would never be enough.

In order to help counter this built-in bias, the reader needs to keep in mind that much of what happens to people on one side of the conflict is also happening to those on the other. If the soldiers are slogging through a swamp in pursuit of the Seminole, the Seminole are retreating through the same swamp. If the mosquitoes and sand fleas are aggravating the soldiers, they’re aggravating the Indians as well. If white homes are being attacked by the Seminole, Seminole villages are being attacked by the whites. War is a two-sided affair, and just because one side didn’t write down their experiences doesn’t mean they weren’t suffering just as much, if not more.

We would also like to point out that we have intentionally kept the focus of the book rather narrow. This is a history of the Third Seminole War, and we have tried to keep it as such. For that reason we do not delve deeply into the background of the first two wars or examine cultural matters in any great detail on either side. When we can add some point of interest in a clear, concise manner we do, but only if it does not interrupt the flow of the narrative. This is not because we don’t consider these important and fascinating subjects. Quite the opposite. These are areas of interest that deserve to be examined in greater detail than we have space for here, and we invite the reader to consult the bibliography to find works that deal with Seminole culture and other aspects of the Seminole Wars.

This project has long been a dream for all three of us. Our separate books on all three Seminole Wars came out within months of each other (Knetsch, Florida’s Seminole Wars 1817–1858, Arcadia Press, 2003; Missall and Missall, The Seminole Wars: America’s Longest Indian Conflict, University Press of Florida, 2004), and in both of these works we felt the Third Seminole War didn’t get the attention it deserved. Someday, we often said, we need to write a thorough history of the Third Seminole War.

Yet a work of this scope takes more than three people. First of all, we’d like to thank our family members who have encouraged and supported us in all our historical endeavors. We also extend our appreciation to our many friends in the Seminole Wars Foundation, whose own historical works have been an inspiration for many years and whose friendships we cherish. Particular thanks go to Patsy West and Annette Snapp for their detailed reviews of the manuscript and their numerous suggestions on how to improve it.

Personal thanks go to the numerous individuals who have given their time and efforts to help us fill in the blanks of this complex story. Among them are Alan Aimone, then of the West Point Library Special Collections; Paul Backhouse, Ah-Tah-Thi-Ki Seminole Museum; historian and author Canter Brown, Jr.; James M. Denham of the Florida History Center, Florida Southern College; Rodney Dillon; Pamela Gibson of the Manatee County Public Library; the late Sarah Nell Gran; Tom Hambright; Hank Hendry; Dawn Hugh and Rebecca Smith of the then Museum of South Florida History; Claude Kennison; Christopher Kimball; Rodney Kite-Powell, Tampa Bay History Center; Samantha Mercer; Arva Moore Parks; Bea Reifeis (Ambrose Hill Papers); the late Art and Kari Rice of LaBelle; Cindy Russell; Kathy Slusser; Willard Bill Steele; Jerry Wilkinson; Irv Winsboro; and Debra Wynne.

Our appreciation also goes to the many helpful staff members at the following institutions, whose assistance made our work so much easier: Florida State Library and Archives, Tallahassee; Lee County Library, Fort Myers; Sebring Historical Society; University of Florida Special Collections, James Cusick, Director; Bowdoin College Special Collections; Detroit Public Library, Burton Collection; and the Title and Land Records Section, Florida Department of Environmental Protection. We thank one and all.

CHAPTER ONE

Florida Has Been Deeply Injured

Was the Second Seminole War (1835–1842) really over? People throughout the nation, and especially in Florida, had a right to be skeptical. For almost seven years, the Seminole Indians had fought against the government’s effort to remove them from their Florida homeland and send them to new homes west of the Mississippi River. It had been an embarrassing war for the government, costly in terms of dollars spent and lives lost, and in the end there were still hundreds of Seminole living in Florida.

It was not the first time America had waged war upon the Seminole people. In late 1817 tensions along the border between Georgia and what was then Spanish Florida exploded into open conflict. General Andrew Jackson was sent into Florida with a force of more than 4,000 men including allied Lower Creek Indian warriors to destroy the Seminole and capture any runaway slaves living in the area. By May 1818 Jackson had pushed the Indians deep into the peninsula, destroying major settlements and taking much of their livestock. After devastating the Seminole, Jackson turned his attention to the Spanish capital at Pensacola, and contrary to orders, captured the city after a short siege. Having accomplished his mission, Jackson returned to his home in Tennessee, leaving it to Secretary of State John Quincy Adams to clean up the diplomatic mess. To the Spanish it had become obvious they could no longer hold on to the colony, and in 1819 the Adams-Onis Treaty was signed, ceding Florida to the United States. When the land changed hands in 1821, Andrew Jackson was appointed Military Governor.¹

The Seminole, who had for the most part been left alone by the Spanish authorities, now had to deal with the Americans. The Natives occupied some of the best land in the peninsula and owned huge herds of valuable cattle. In addition, the Indians also held a large number of their own slaves and usually welcomed runaways. Disputes over land, livestock, and slaves were inevitable. In the Treaty of Moultrie Creek, signed in 1823, the Indians were granted a 4-million-acre reservation in central Florida, but the land was unproductive, and they found it difficult to survive.²

In 1830, at the urging of President Andrew Jackson, Congress passed the Indian Removal Act, which called for the relocation of all Native Americans who lived east of the Mississippi to a new Indian Territory in what is now Oklahoma. In 1832 the Treaty of Payne’s Landing was signed by a small number of Seminole leaders but was not presented to the Tribal Council for debate or ratification. In it the tribe supposedly relinquished all claim to land in Florida in exchange for new land in the West. The majority of the Seminole, including the Tribal Council, called the treaty fraudulent and refused to prepare for emigration. The government insisted they had no choice. Leave voluntarily, the Indians were told, or the army will force you out.³

Open warfare began in December 1835 with the annihilation of a detachment of 108 men under Maj. Francis Langhorne Dade at a point midway between Fort Brooke (Tampa) and Fort King (Ocala). For the United States Army, one defeat followed another. On New Year’s Eve the Seminole repulsed 750 men at the Withlacoochee River, and by the end of January virtually the entire sugar industry (Florida’s biggest business) had been destroyed. In early March a force of 1,000 men was held under siege for over a week before being rescued, and several weeks later an army of about 5,000 men failed to kill or capture any significant number of Seminole before the season for active campaigning ended in May. The Seminole, who refused to fight in the orderly, Napoleonic tactics the army was trained in, seemed to be winning the war.⁴

As it would be for the next five years, the war was put on hold for the summer. Daily rains made the roads impassible and flooded much of the land. Hordes of disease-bearing insects attacked the troops in their barracks, causing far more fatalities than Seminole bullets ever would. Posts in the interior, considered unhealthy, were abandoned. Troops were sent north to allow them to recover or to deal with other problems facing the nation. By the time autumn arrived, both sides were ready to resume the conflict.

In November 1836 Florida Governor Richard Keith Call led about 2,100 men into the Seminole strongholds near the Withlacoochee River. After a sharp battle at the Wahoo Swamp, most of the Seminole made their escape. President Jackson then placed Maj. Gen. Thomas Jesup in charge of the war. Jesup understood that the only way to end the war was to wear the Seminole down. Fighting a prolonged war of attrition was new for the United States and would require an unprecedented effort on the part of the military. Half of the regular army was brought to Florida, and thousands of State Militia and Volunteer units were raised and sent to the war zone. Even the navy and marines were involved. Forts were built within a day’s march of each other, and patrols were sent out to constantly harass the Indians. Millions of dollars worth of supplies and weaponry were transported by wagon trains or ships. It took over a year, but by January 1838 Jesup had captured or killed hundreds of belligerents and forced many to surrender. Most of the remnant Seminole fled to the inhospitable Everglades, where they hoped the army couldn’t follow them.⁵

Feeling he had accomplished all that could be expected, Jesup asked the administration to declare the war over. He knew that chasing and rounding up the remaining Seminole hiding in the Florida wilderness would be an impossible task, and that the Seminole’s guerilla tactics rendered nearly every homestead and road in Florida vulnerable. Officials in Washington wouldn’t hear of it and told Jesup the war would not end until every last Indian was removed from Florida. Jesup was relieved by Brig. Gen. Zachary Taylor, who fortified the settled areas, but did little to capture the Seminole. In 1839 Maj. Gen. Alexander Macomb, the highest ranking officer in the army, was sent down to negotiate a peace with the Indians. It was the only time in American history that a Native nation had forced the government to sue for peace. Unfortunately, the agreement fell apart after a brutal attack on a trading post near the Caloosahatchee River.⁶

For the next three years, the government continued its war of attrition against the Seminole, who responded with guerilla tactics the army found difficult to counter. For the army, operating in Florida had proven a logistical nightmare, a place where adequate supplies and efficient transportation were difficult to come by. While military patrols scoured the Everglades, Seminole war parties raided throughout the peninsula. No one, Indian or white, could feel safe. Hundreds of soldiers fell victim to disease, while homesteaders and travelers perished in Indian raids. At the same time, Seminole families were killed or captured, forced from their homes, or saw their crops destroyed. After six years of warfare, people were dying and suffering on both sides, yet there seemed no end in sight to the fighting.

So who were these seemingly invincible people who were able to hold off the might of the American nation for so long? Of all the tribes in the southeastern United States, the Seminole had been the smallest and least cohesive. Their population before the war had numbered only about 5,000 individuals, with perhaps 1,500 capable of being called warriors. The term Seminole was not one they had chosen for themselves but had been applied by others, the term generally implying separatist or runaway from the Creek Confederacy.⁷

For the most part they weren’t even aboriginal to Florida. There had been several hundred thousand Indians in Florida when the Spaniards arrived in 1513, but within two hundred years the Natives had been virtually wiped out by disease, warfare, and enslavement. Some moved north into the English colonies and were living among the closely related Creek tribes, while others fled Spanish-held territory and moved into the more remote areas of Florida. In the early 1700s Creek Indians from what is now Alabama and Georgia began to move into the sparsely inhabited peninsula. Some came to hunt game, others because they were displaced by white encroachment, and others were leaving behind political or personal disputes within their own tribes. They came from different places at different times, settled in different areas, and spoke different dialects. They were called Alachua, Mikasuki, Apalachee, Tallahassee, Uchee, and other tribal names. Some of them mixed with remnants of the Natives who were already in Florida. In the end Seminole came to mean any Indian living in Florida.⁸

Theirs was an ancient and sophisticated culture that few whites of the time really understood. The fact that separate groups had migrated from widely spaced places meant that different languages were spoken. Even today, Florida’s Seminole speak two distinct tongues. It was, however, a common culture. In Creek/Seminole society, the primary social units were the clans. Seminole clans are matrilineal, unlike the common practice in European society where people tend to take their father’s surname and trace their lineage through the paternal line. Throughout a person’s life he or she would identify with his mother’s clan, even married men, who would traditionally move in with the wife’s clan. If a marriage dissolved, the husband would return to his own clan, but children and common property stayed with the wife.⁹ For the Seminole, family meant anyone of the same clan, no matter how many generations removed or how distant their residence. It still does.¹⁰

While a Seminole’s personal life was rooted in his or her clan, social life was centered on the town. A Seminole town was much more than a geographic entity, and a significant portion of the population might live some distance away from the town center in remote villages or camps, often populated by members of the same clan. The town was the ceremonial and political center of the Seminole’s world, the place where they would gather in times of celebration or danger.¹¹

Ceremonies, rituals, and religious beliefs have always played an important part in the lives of the Seminole. Their most significant ritual was the annual Green Corn Dance. The term dance can be a bit misleading. Although tribal members spent a lot of time chanting and moving in rhythmic patterns around the central fire, it was much more than simple recreation. The dances had meaning, conveying tribal history, philosophy, and mores. Dancing helped bring continuity to the Indians’ lives, allowing them to come closer to the world in which they lived and the lives of their ancestors.¹² Above all else, the Green Corn Dance was a time of spiritual purification and cleansing. By the end of the four-day ceremony the community was spiritually renewed and prepared to face the challenges of the coming year. The Green Corn Dance is still the most important event of the Seminole year.¹³

The Seminole were never friendly toward their northern neighbors. Many had come to Florida because of differences within the Creek tribes they had left or because of encroachment by colonists in Georgia. An animosity remained, and during the American Revolution, when Florida remained an English colony, they occasionally fought against the rebels in Georgia. During the War of 1812, some of them again sided with the British, which only served to make them more of an enemy in the eyes of the Americans.¹⁴

The Seminole were not alone in their hatred of the white Americans. Many Upper Creek Indians from what is now eastern Alabama, inspired by Tecumseh and his message of Indian solidarity and resistance to white expansion, formed the Red Stick faction, which sought more independent power from the Creek National Council. Opposed to them were many Lower Creeks from western Georgia and southern Alabama, who were more accepting of white culture. In 1813 war broke out between the two groups, and the United States soon became involved. The following spring General Andrew Jackson led a large army of volunteers from Tennessee and Kentucky and defeated the Red Sticks at the Battle of Horseshoe Bend. Hundreds of refugee Red Sticks fled to the safety of Spanish Florida and took up residence alongside the Seminole.¹⁵

There was yet another group of people living among the Florida Indians who had an even greater reason to fear white Americans. As long as Florida was in the possession of Spain, it was seen as a safe haven for runaway slaves from Georgia and the Carolinas. The Seminole welcomed these people, who possessed skills in farming, understood white culture, and could serve as interpreters. Some leading Seminole families also purchased slaves. The surplus crops produced by these people brought wealth to their owners, and the slaves were rewarded with a life that was less like slavery and more like share-cropping. Generally treated with respect by the Indians, the Black Seminole did everything in their power to remain free and were always a point of contention between the Indians and whites.¹⁶

Yet as diverse and at times antagonistic as these various groups could be, they were united in the defense of their homeland when faced with forced removal. Although their numbers were small, they enjoyed some major advantages over their white adversaries. At the beginning of the Second Seminole War, the army knew very little of the interior of Florida; few whites had ever been there. The Seminole, on the other hand, knew every lake, stream, swamp, wooded hammock, and hiding place in the peninsula. They knew where to find food, while the military was forced to import vast amounts of supplies from hundreds of miles away. Soldiers, who lived in crowded forts, were more prone to disease than the Seminole, who lived in small groups and were acclimatized to the sub-tropical conditions. The army, schooled in European-style combat, found it difficult to adjust to the tactics of guerilla warfare. The Indians, raised in a warrior culture, proved themselves to be excellent tacticians, executing deadly ambushes, selecting superior defensive positions, and choosing to fight when the advantage was with them. The Seminole’s tenacity and fighting prowess became legendary, almost mythic.

The Second Seminole War appeared as if it could go on forever, but as the war progressed, the army’s skill and efficiency increased, allowing them to operate successfully in the Everglades. Small bands of Seminole, under continual pressure from the army, were either captured or forced to surrender. Those that managed to elude the patrols retreated deeper into the Everglades, and by May 1842 there were few Indians left to fight. President John Tyler’s secretary of war, John Spencer, informed Winfield Scott, the commanding general of the army, of the president’s wishes:

The very reduced number of the hostile Indians now in Florida, believed not to exceed two hundred and forty, including probably eighty warriors, would seem to indicate that all has been accomplished which can be effected by the employment of a large military force in offensive operations. Unless such operations are to be continued until the last Indian in the Peninsula shall be destroyed or captured, there must be some period when they should cease. That period, it is believed, has now arrived, and the protection of the inhabitants must be secured by other means, which it is believed can be effectually employed for that purpose.¹⁷

The people of Florida were certainly ready for the war to end, even if there were still a few Seminole left behind. Citizens of Leon County sent a Memorial to Congress that looked to the future while bemoaning the past:

The undersigned would respectfully urge upon Congress the justice and the policy of making, in the act admitting Florida a State, a liberal donation of the public lands within her boundaries, to enable her to get the State Government into operation efficiently, beneficially and successfully. Florida has been deeply injured, nay well nigh ruined, by the deplorable war which has raged here for six years … Our most fertile fields, then in profitable cultivation, are now lying waste, with nearly every house and cabin, on a frontier of upwards of four hundred miles, burned to the ground, and hundreds of the best plantations deserted by their former possessors and grown up in bushes. Florida has been put back ten years by this war.¹⁸

As the tribe’s population began to dwindle, primary leadership fell into the hands of two people. The most visible was Holata Micco of the Alachua band, which had originally settled around the Alachua Prairie near present-day Gainesville. To whites he was known as Billy Bowlegs, a corruption of the Seminole name Bolek. He spoke English, which was unusual for a Seminole, and was a bit over thirty years of age.¹⁹

The other leader who stood out was Abiaki, better known as Sam Jones, headman of the Mikasuki. They had once lived northeast of present-day Tallahassee around Lake Miccosukee, the largest and most powerful Indian settlement in Florida previous to the First Seminole War. Born about 1781, he was already a respected elder when the Second Seminole War began and had proven himself a brilliant tactician in that conflict. He was also a powerful spiritual leader whose vehement opposition to emigration preserved his people in their Florida homeland. Eventually, when supplies of ammunition began to run low, both men shifted their strategy to avoiding military confrontation, hoping the whites would tire of the war. By war’s end the Alachua and Mikasuki had migrated to the lands south of Lake Okeechobee, in areas known as the Big Cypress and Everglades. It was a region many of them had lived or hunted in for decades, and it proved an excellent refuge from the advancing white armies.²⁰

Figure 1. Chief Holata Micco (Billy Bowlegs). Photo taken on an 1852 trip to Washington, D.C. to meet President Millard Fillmore.

Although whites considered Holata to be chief of the entire Seminole tribe, that was not the case. Abiaki was just as powerful, if not more, but he kept a low profile. There were also three or four small groups of Creeks living north of the Big Cypress and Everglades that were only loosely affiliated with the main body of Seminole. One group dwelt west of Lake Okeechobee and was led by a pair of Mikasuki brothers who had married into the group, Oscen Tustennuggee and Hospetarke. Another group, known as Tallahassees, lived along the Kissimmee River and was headed by Chipco. There was a sizable band led by Octiarche and Tiger Tail living far north, near the Suwannee River, and a possible fourth group, known as the Cow Creek, who may have lived west of Fort Pierce. Getting all these scattered bands to agree to any peace deal would prove a daunting task.

On 21 July 1842, a parley was held at Fort Brooke, one of the larger military outposts in Florida and nucleus for the future city of Tampa. Fuse Hadjo, a representative of Holata Micco, had come to meet Col. William Jenkins Worth, commanding officer of the forces in Florida. Fuse Hadjo told Worth that Holata was happy to receive the news that the government was offering peace and that the Seminole and Mikasuki people would also be glad to hear it. He reported that Bowlegs had gone to give the talk to such of his people as he could find, & that when he assembles them, which he expects to do soon, he hopes to have a talk himself, with the Colonel.²¹

Fuse Hadjo had been sent to see Worth because Holata wasn’t convinced the offer of peace was real. Too many promises and treaties had been made and broken, and experience had taught the Seminole not to trust the whites. Many of the foremost Seminole leaders, including Micanopy, Coacoochee, and Osceola, had been seized while negotiating under a flag of truce, and Holata didn’t want his name added to the list. For both sides in the war, hope and skepticism went hand-in-hand. As far as the government was concerned, the Seminole had signed several treaties agreeing to remove to the West and had broken all of them. Each side had their own interpretations of the circumstances surrounding all these breaches of faith, but neither side seemed capable, or willing, to see things from the other’s point of view. Deep distrust had been building for 40 years and was not going to go away overnight.

Figure 2. General William Jenkins Worth. Final commander of the Second Seminole War, he established peace with the Seminole.

Worth told Fuse Hadjo that the president was giving them the option to remain in South Florida or emigrate to Indian Territory, whichever they preferred, though he recommended moving west. There would be incentives to move, such as cash payments and a rifle for each warrior and rations for a year. If they chose to remain they would get nothing and must agree to stay within the boundaries of the reservation set aside for them. The only exception would be to visit the trading post that would be set up at Tampa Bay. Having received the talk, Fuse Hadjo left Fort Brooke and headed south in search of Holata Micco, promising to return in 17 days.²²

Ending the war meant removing troops from Florida, something the local white population was very much against. Floridians may have wanted peace, but they also wanted protection in case the peace didn’t hold. Many also wanted to take advantage of the economic opportunities a large number of troops provided, be it legitimate services or illegal trade. For his part, Secretary of War Spencer believed the frontiersmen of Florida should be responsible for their own protection, with initial support from the government:

It is deemed advisable that a force equal to at least two regiments be retained to form a cordon, or line of protection, for the frontier settlements. The action of congress will be invited to aid in the defence of the territory, by the settlement of our citizens there, and offering to them inducements for such settlements, by gratuities of land, by allowing them rations for subsistence, and by the loan of arms. Until the decision of congress is had on the subject, it is desirable that the settlements to be made should be within such line of protection as shall be established by Colonel Worth, who will take the necessary measures to effect this arrangement.²³

Worth had already begun the process of resettling the frontier by sponsoring several military colonies in the Territory, such as the one founded on the Manatee River by Col. Sam Reid. Yet there were limits to the amount of support Worth could offer. Most incentives would have to come from Congress, where many legislators believed that if settlers were given a bounty of land and armed, they would valiantly defend their new homes and force the Seminole deeper into the wilderness and eventually out west. To that end, Congress passed the Armed Occupation Act on 2 August 1842. The act offered potential settlers a quarter section (160 acres) of free land south of present-day Gainesville if the settler agreed to live on the land for five years, clear at least five acres, build a suitable habitation, and bear arms to protect the land against Indian aggression. It was one of the important models used for the later, more famous, Homestead Act.²⁴

For potential settlers the act provided legal assurances, but vagueness in the wording allowed the General Land Office (GLO) to enforce its long-held policy requiring settlements to be on a previously surveyed quarter section of land. This created problems for settlers who followed natural boundaries (streams, tree lines, etc.) to establish their claims instead of moving onto lands that had been surveyed by GLO personnel. This difference of policy led to much ill-will between the GLO and the Deputy Surveyors, who were required to grant approval of the quarter sections assigned to those who had followed natural boundaries. Settlers who had made improvements prior to this edict from the GLO often had to give up a portion of their claim to satisfy the requirement.²⁵

After five years of disagreement, the government sent James Archer to settle the disputes by gathering affidavits from two other settlers and the local sheriff, all stating that a settler who had followed natural boundaries