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MICANOPY—HE WAS THE KING OF THE NATION

In the violation of the treaty, to use General Jessup’s words, all was lost!

All the vengeance of the Indian was again aroused, and the wild Seminole war-cry, “Yohoehee! yohoehee,” again broke through the woods.

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The fame of Osceola now reached the farthermost corner of the land. His name, signifying Rising Sun,[1] seemed prophetic, and he became at once the warrior of the Ocklawaha, the hero of the Seminoles. The youngest of the chiefs, he possessed a magnetism that Cyrus might have envied, and in a manner truly majestic led his warriors where he chose.

In the personal reminiscences of an old Florida settler, in describing Osceola, he says, “I consider him one of the greatest men this country ever produced. He was a great man, and a curious one, too; but few people know him well enough to appreciate his worth. I was raised within ten miles of his home, and it was he who gave me my first lessons in woodcraft. He was a brave and generous foe, and always protected women and children. An act of kindness was never forgotten by him.” Osceola had received a favor from one of the officers who led the battle of the Withlacoochee. Observing him in the front ranks, he instantly gave orders that this man should be spared, but every other officer should be cut down. Osceola’s father was an English trader named Powell, and his mother the daughter of a chief known as Sallie Marie, a woman very small in stature, and with high cheekbones. Osceola lacked this peculiarity, and was one of the finest-looking men I ever saw. His carriage was erect and lofty, his motion quick, and he had an air of hauteur in his countenance which arose from his elevated pride of soul. His winning smile and wonderful eyes drew from an army officer these glowing words of admiration, “But the eye, that herald of the Soul, was in itself constituted to command. Under excitement it flashed firm and stern resolve; when in smiling it warmed the very heart of the beholder with its beams of kindness. I tell you, he was a great man; education would have made him the equal of Napoleon. He hated slavery as only such a nature as his could hate. He was Indian to the heart, and proud of his ancestry. He had too much white blood in him to yield to the cowardly offers of the government, and had he not been captured, the Seminole War would have been a more lasting one than it was. I could talk all day about Osceola,” remarked the old Captain, as he drew a sigh. “Did the Indians take scalps, Captain?” “Take scalps? Well, yes, if Osceola wasn’t around. He was too much of a white man to allow it himself.”