It is ironic that the Seminole Wars remain obscure in the nation’s historical consciousness considering the several capable historians who have chronicled them. The literature on these forgotten conflicts makes up in quality what it lacks in preponderance. One of the best examples of this lies in Frank Laumer’s incredible chronicle of Dade’s Battle, entitled Dade’s Last Command. Published in 1995 as the first, and to date only, book-length study of this pivotal battle which began the Second Seminole War, the volume is essential reading for anyone interested in this important conflict.

Laumer’s book is not only among the very best available scholarship on the war, it is among the best accounts of a military campaign in American history that I have ever read. Insightful, detailed, and written in engaging style, Dade’s Last Command is a model narrative by a historian whose mastery of the facts and passion for the subject and people he brings to life is abundantly clear. This is no dry account of the surprise attack which resulted in the deaths of all but one of Maj. Francis L. Dade’s command in the Florida wilderness in December of 1835. It is a compelling drama that is told from the perspectives of both American soldiers and Seminoles.
A short passage, taken from p. 169 of the book, provides an example of Laumer’s storytelling writing style which allows readers to hear, see, smell, and feel what life was like on the fateful march from Fort Brooke (modern Tampa) to the relief of Fort King (modern Ocala). It is part of the account of the advance of Dade’s troops the day before they were attacked:
“The advance guard kept its distance, flankers out on right and left, alternately
thrashing through palmetto and splashing through ponds, rear guard following,
urging the crew on as they put their shoulders to the wheels of the gun, rolling
deep in murky water, horses straining at their harness, pawing the earth for traction,
while the dogs bounded through the woods, baying up anything that moved and
much that didn’t. On the map the road was straight, but in reality the twists and
turns kept the column weaving back and forth so that a man could see only a short
distance ahead or behind at any given moment. It created a feeling of vulnerability,
and that in turn kept the ranks closed up, the pace quick.”
Laumer’s telling of the devastating attack and the death of virtually everyone in the command (this is “Custer’s Last Stand” a generation earlier) just a few pages later is riveting. It is only exceeded in drama by the reality of the event and that somehow one man was able to escape and make his way some sixty miles back to the safety of Fort Brooke despite being shot four times and being unable to even walk. Laumer wraps up his study of the battle with his slow and painful departure from the scene of the carnage, providing in the epilogue the summary of ensuing events that became known as the Second Seminole War.
I recently had a chance to visit the ground on which the events of the book took place. The book has reminded me forcefully just how much good historical writing can mean to enhancing the visitor experience at historic sites such as Dade’s Battlefield Historic State Park. This remote patch of ground, featuring a short walking trail and an unimposing reconstruction of the hastily-assembled log barricade from which Dade’s men vainly attempted to hold off an overwhelming Seminole force so many years ago, was brought to life in my mind through this book. I enjoyed my visit before reading this book. Now that I have read it, walking that hallowed ground will be a profound experience indeed. I can’t help but think that if all of our state historic sites had such a moving chronicle of the events they interpret as Laumer’s study of Dade’s Battle, the profession of public history would greatly enhanced. If we can get the public interested in reading them, that is.
JMB