The Seminoles of Florida

The history of the American Indian is a very Iliad of tragedy. From the day Columbus made the first footprints of the European in the damp sands of Cat Island, the story of the original owners of fair America has been full of melancholy, and fills with its dark pages every day of a quartet of centuries.

Columbus describes the innocent happiness of these people. “They were no wild savages, but very gentle and courteous,” he says, “without knowing what evil is, without stealing, without killing.” They gave to him a new world for Castile and Leon, while in exchange he gave to them “some glass beads and little red caps.” The tragedy of the new world began when we find this same admiral writing to the Spanish majesties that he would be able to furnish them with gold, cotton, spices, and slaves—“slaves! as many as their Highnesses shall command to be shipped”; and thus, this land, a paradise of almost primeval loveliness, was transformed into a land of cruel bondage, desolation and death.

History scarcely records an instance when hospitality was not extended by the red man to our first explorers. Swift canoes shot out from the shaded shores, filled with men clad in gorgeous mantles, and, in broken accents, their greeting was “Welcome!” “Come, see the people from Heaven,” they cried, but were soon destined to believe they were from a very different region.

From old Spanish accounts we conclude that the Indian population of De Soto’s time was very large, and that the natives were in a higher state of civilization than at any later period; that their speech, though brief, was chaste, unaffected, and evinced a generous sentiment. Cortez found the Aztecs and their dependencies challenging comparison with the proudest nations of the world, and in their barbarous magnificence rivaling the splendors of the Orient. Advanced in the arts, dwelling in cities, and living under a well-organized government, they were happy in their position and circumstances.