2nd Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, March 30, 1841

FORT PIERCE, F., March 30, 1841.

My Dear Brother:

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The peninsula of Florida is of the latest geological formation, one mass of sand, with few rocks of the softest consistency, and, were it not for its delightful climate, would be as barren as the deserts of Africa. It is cut up by innumerable rivers, streams, and rivulets, which, watering the soil, nourish a rank growth of weeds and grass, which, continually decomposing, gives a rich soil, and gives rise in time to a heavy growth of live oak, palmetto, and scrub of every kind. These are the dreaded hummocks, the stronghold of the Indians, where he builds his hut, and has pumpkin and corn fields. The stream furnishes him with abundance of fish and alligators, the palmetto its cabbage. The thick growth conceals his little fire and hut, secures his escape, enables him to creep within a few yards of the deer or turkey feeding on the border, and drive his copper-headed, barbed arrow through the vital part. In a word, the deep streams, bordered by the dense hummock, have enabled the Indians thus far to elude the pursuit of our army.

The remainder of the country is so very level that water will not flow off, but collects in ponds until absorbed by the sand or evaporated. These ponds are met at every few yards, sometimes miles in extent and but few inches in depth, at other places narrow and boggy. All else is pine barren, and of course monotonous.

As to the history of the war,—the same as all our Indian wars. A treaty for the removal is formed by a few who represent themselves as the whole; the time comes, and none present themselves. The Government orders force to be used; the troops in the territory commence, but are so few that they all get massacred. The cowardly inhabitants, instead of rallying, desert their homes and sound the alarm-call for assistance. An army supposed to be strong enough is sent, seeks and encounters the enemy at a place selected by the latter, gets a few hundred killed. The Indians retreat, scatter, and are safe. This may be repeated ad infinitum. The best officer is selected to direct the affairs of the army, comes to Florida, exposes himself, does all he can, gets abused by all, more than likely breaks down his constitution, and is glad enough to get out of the scrape. Treaties, truces, and armistices have been and are still being tried, with what success is notorious. The present mode of conducting things is to dispose the troops at fixed points, and require them to scout and scour the country in their vicinity,—about as good a plan as could be adopted, and one which would terminate the war if small columns of a hundred or a hundred and fifty men were to make excursions into the interior. We have from this post thoroughly expelled the Indians from this section of the territory, and have had the good luck to kill some and capture others, besides destroying and capturing boats, canoes, etc. The same has been done below and throughout that district where war prevails.

In the west, there is peace. General A—— is buying them up, and, what is to be wondered at, has learned wisdom by experience. You doubtless know that he was most egregiously hoaxed last fall by them, but now he places all who come in under a strong guard, so they can't get off this time. Some flatter themselves that there is hope of the war's ending this summer, but I think there is no probability, as they have burnt their fields and hunting-grounds to the west and northwest of us, and Sam Jones and Coacoocher are still out, and have not the least notion of coming in whilst they are so strong. We have just returned from a very pleasant scout, having been eight days out, examining several streams that empty south of us, without, however, accomplishing anything or seeing any sights except those left by a hunting party some ten or twelve days previous. We went to Jupiter, famous for the grab by General Jesup; from this place we went out to the battle-ground on the Locha Hatchee, where the Indians made a stand against General Jesup in 1838. It was a dense hummock on the stream called Locha Hatchee, where the army was to pass on the way to Jupiter. The trees were riddled with balls, and several of our men, who had been at the battle, pointed out the trees behind which Captain Such-a-one and Lieutenant Such, etc., etc., stood; the limb over which our men crossed to get at the enemy; how the general got his spectacles smashed by a ball, etc., etc.; how the volunteer militia, as usual, were seized with a panic, gathered together like sheep, presenting a sure target for the Indians, which of course was not allowed to pass unheeded.

Your affectionate brother,

W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 13-5

2nd Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, January 16, [1841]

[Fort Pierce, Florida, January 16th 1841.]

Upon all scouts or expeditions of danger, all the officers insist upon going, but as it is necessary that at least one should stay at the fort, this is done by rotation, and upon the expedition to the Hanlover, ninety miles distant, it fell to my share to remain. On the 4th instant the boats, seven in all, with four officers and forty-three men, left the fort, intending to travel by night and lay by by day; but not having a guide, and their map being incorrect, they could not find the way, so on the third day out they concluded it was best to hurry on by day, reach the point where they expected to find Indians, and lie concealed; but on the fourth morning they espied a little canoe in a cove, went ashore, found a trail, followed it, and soon came to a cluster of board and palmetto huts, which they rushed upon, but only found a negro family, —— man, wife, and two children, as also an old squaw and papoose. They secured these, and learned that a party of Indians living at this place, and another which our party had previously destroyed, had gone up to the Hanlover or to the big swamp for oranges and ——. The negro said he and his wife had been stolen four years previous, and had been with them ever since. He seemed quite rejoiced at his recapture and offered to act as guide. He was handcuffed, and a noose fixed about his neck as a gentle hint, then told to go on. On the 5th (Saturday) they reached the Hanlover, encamped at the Hanlover, and had the pleasure to receive the visit of a horse at daylight the next morning. They followed his track back for about a quarter of a mile, and came upon a temporary camp of the Indians. The dogs gave the alarm; they all rushed in, when you may well suppose there was a little scattering. Nearly all took to their canoes or the water, where, of course, they were pursued, and after half an hour's popping away and pursuing, they collected together, and found that they had killed two warriors, a woman, and a child; had captured three warriors, eight women, and fifteen children, two tolerably good boats, any quantity of canoes, pots and kettles, etc., corn, pumpkins, and dried fish, and bows and arrows, rifles, bullet-bags, leggins, moccasins, etc.; all this, too, on Sunday. Having destroyed everything that could not be carried with ease, shot the horse, and secured the prisoners, they took to their boats and crossed the lagoon to the other side, from whence the next morning two of the officers and twenty men were sent over to the St. John's, to a place where, the negro said, a couple of families lived. They found it as he had said, but the dogs gave the alarm before they could be surrounded; but in escaping one warrior was shot, and two squaws and their two children, one warrior alone effecting his escape. Here they found two elegant canoes, one of mahogany large enough to carry twenty men, but were destroyed, not being able to bring them away. The houses were burnt, with all the corn, pumpkins, and household stuff. Thus, having captured all they could find in this quarter, and their provisions becoming scanty, they commenced their return, and reached this post after having been out ten days, exposed to some terrible showers, with hard rowing and little to eat, but were in good spirits from their success. They brought with them six boats and thirty-four prisoners. They are encamped here under charge of the guard until they can be sent to Augustine. I wish you could see the group in its savage state; although many have lost their husbands and fathers and wives and children, yet they show no grief. Several are very badly wounded; one little girl, with a ball through the back and coming out in the cheek, scarce utters a murmur; another woman, a buckshot through and through, bears it with the fortitude of a veteran soldier; there are several other wounds, given accidentally, of course, in the pell-mell of the fight and in the pursuit of the canoes.

I, of course, regretted very much not having been along, but consoled myself with the idea that I'll have a chance yet. In fact, I was on a scout some time ago, when we ran a large boat and canoe ashore, captured the boats, but the Indians escaped. To-night I start with fifteen men in three boats, my principal object being to capture an Indian for guide up the St. Lucie's River; expect to be gone five days. The boat has just arrived from the bar; it is the schooner Frances from Havana, bound to Augustine, so it will answer my purpose of sending this, though hurried.

I presume you have heard how Colonel Harney had been in the Everglades capturing eleven warriors, ten of whom he hung, and twenty-eight women and children. This boat brings the news that, seeing fires on the beach, about ten miles this side of Key Biscayne, ran in and fired a gun, which was answered from shore, and presently a small canoe came out, hailed, and four soldiers in them taken aboard. They were four of Colonel Harney's men, who said that it was Colonel Harney's camp; that they had gone on the 1st instant, with two hundred men, soldiers, and marines, in boats, with a guide, to Sam Jones' camp. They had found Sam much stronger in numbers than they had expected, and admirably posted, so that he could not have attacked him without receiving at least three deliberate shots from about one hundred warriors, so the Colonel decided to return for an accession to his force. He doubtless took a prudent course, though I think he should have attacked Sam. The secret of the matter is, I think, he felt no confidence in the marines and sailors, for he is no coward. He had, however, attacked a small party, capturing six and killing six.

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Your affectionate brother,

W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 16-9

2nd Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, July 14, 1841

FORT PIERCE, F., July 14, 1841.

My Dear Brother:

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There is considerable talk up at St. Augustine that our regiment is going north in the fall, but I won't believe any such thing until the order comes; in fact, I want to stay till next spring, for I really believe that there is a shadow of hope of terminating this war in the coming winter, provided always no "treaties, truces, or talks."

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Your affectionate brother,

W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, p. 19

1st Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, February 15, 1842

PICOLATTO, F., Feb. 15, 1842.

My Dear Brother:

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You doubtless saw my promotion announced in "Orders." I have been exceedingly fortunate, attaining a rank which generally requires five or eight years' service in the short period of seventeen months. This promotion separated me from the company to which I formerly belonged and from a garrison of officers to whom I had become much attached, yet I was of course rejoiced at being promoted to this company, which guards the road between St. Augustine and this place,—the road upon which so very many murders have been committed during the war. I command here a guard, have fine quarters, constant communication with the world, and although very little society, and no officers with me, I can mount my horse, and in a couple of hours can have both in the ancient city of St. Augustine, only eighteen miles distant. St. Augustine, you know, is the oldest town in the United States, nor does its appearance belie its age,—narrow, winding streets, close-built houses with the balconies meeting overhead, denoting its Spanish population. There are some few old English families, who remained when the Floridas were ceded to Spain, and together with the few Americans whom the delightful climate has enticed, constitute the best society. The Spaniards, or rather Minorcans, are very ignorant and have no desire to travel beyond their own circle. There is an old fort, built at enormous cost by the Spanish Government; but for want of appropriation, it is fast falling to decay. . . . The inhabitants still preserve the old ceremonies and festivities of old Spain. Balls, masquerades, etc., are celebrated during the gay season of the Carnival (just over), and the most religious observance of Lent in public, whilst in private they cannot refrain from dancing and making merry. Indeed, I never saw anything like it,—dancing, dancing, and nothing but dancing, but not such as you see at the north. Such ease and grace I never before beheld. A lady will waltz all the evening without fatigue, because it is done slowly, with grace; but it is in the Spanish dance they more especially excel, enchanting all who behold or participate. This, together with the easy and cordial hospitality all extend to officers, is what has captivated so many within the past few years.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 21-2

William Cullen Bryant to Richard H. Dana, Esq., May 14, 1863

roslyn, May 14, 1863

How this war drags on! Yet I cannot help believing that it will end suddenly, almost unexpectedly, as the Indian War did in Florida, twenty years ago, when General Worth penetrated to the Everglades, to the wigwams where the savages had their families, and they, seeing that further resistance was hopeless, yielded themselves as submissive as lambs. We have all along, in my opinion, conducted the war on a false principle, weakening our forces by the loosest dispersion, and strengthening the rebels by keeping them in a compact body, when there was no necessity for all this. I think I see symptoms of a disposition to depart from this policy; and, when we do, I shall conclude the war is near an end.

I have been looking over Cowper's translation of Homer lately, and comparing it with the original. It has astonished me that one who wrote such strong English as Cowper in his original compositions, should have put Homer, who wrote also with simplicity and spirit, into such phraseology as he has done. For example, when Ulysses, in the fifth book of the Odyssey, asks, “What will become of me?” Cowper makes him say:

“—what destiny at last

Attends me?”

and so on. The greater part is in such stilted phrase, and all the freedom and fire of the old poet is lost.

SOURCE: Parke Godwin, A Biography of William Cullen Bryant, Volume 1, p. 192