Washington, the First of 1815.
One of the most thrilling incidents in our history is the reception by
the country of the news of the Battle of New Orleans. It was
theatrically acclaimed, with almost delirious joy, sharply contrasting
with the condition of deep discouragement and gloom it suddenly
dissipated. Seldom has a victory had more dramatic setting. It is well
for us who enjoy the rich blessings of the present, occasionally to read
of the trials and tribulations through which our forebears struggled,
that they might hand these blessings down to us. “If an old man of
perfect memory,” says James Parton, in Chapter 20 of the second volume
of the Life of Andrew Jackson, published in 1860, “were asked to name
the time when the prospects of this republic were shrouded in deepest
gloom, and the largest number of the people despaired of its future, his
answer, I think, would be, ‘the first thirty-seven days of the year
1815.’” (Parton makes an error of two days, for the news of the battle
of New Orleans reached Washington February 4th.)
“The Capital,” says Parton, “was in ruins” (as a result of its burning
by the British the preceding August).
Parton further referred to the Hartford Convention, which on January 5th
had closed several weeks of session. This anti-war convention was
denounced as treasonable by administrative papers. It had aroused
gravest apprehensions of disunion unless peace should at once be made.
In order to convey an idea of the antagonistic spirit prevailing,
quotation is here given from the _Boston Gazette_, of that period: “Is
there a Federalist, a patriot in America, who conceives it his duty to
shed his blood for Bonaparte, for Madison and Jefferson, and that host
of ruffians in Congress, who have set their faces against us for years,
and spirited up the brutal part of the populace to destroy us? Not one!
Shall we, then, any longer be held in slavery, and driven to desperate
poverty by such a graceless faction?”
Parton further quotes many New England editors as saying: “No more taxes
from New England, till the administration makes peace.”
Parton further says that the great British expedition, so long mustering
in the West Indies, so long delayed, cast a prodigious shadow before it,
putting New York, Philadelphia and Baltimore on their guard; but that as
the autumn passed without the reappearance of hostile force in the
northern waters, the conviction gained ground that something
overwhelming was in contemplation against the defenseless south and
southwest.
“It so chanced,” continues Parton, “that the 8th of January was the days
on which it was first whispered about Washington that the President had
received news of the British fleet at the mouth of the Mississippi. From
that time the eyes of the country were fixed upon New Orleans—not
hopefully.”
“It is not an overstatement of the case,” continues Parton, “to say that
there was not one well informed man in the northern states who believed
that New Orleans could be successfully defended.”
Again quoting from Parton: “After a week of gossip and foreboding, came
news of the gunboat battle, and its disastrous results; also rumors of a
great armament hovering on the Atlantic coast. ‘We are a lost country,’
said the Federal papers in doleful concert. ‘A wicked administration has
ruined us. New Orleans having fallen an easy prey, the British General
will leave a few acclimated black regiments to garrison that city, and
bring the Wellington heroes around to the Chesapeake. Baltimore will not
be able to resist. Washington will again be overrun, Philadelphia and
New York will next be attacked, and who shall say with what results? See
to what a pass Jefferson and French democracy have brought a deluded
country!’”
All sorts of dire rumors were in circulation, and to add to the gloom
that prevailed in Washington and elsewhere, a snow storm of remarkable
violence and extent set in on the 23rd of January, and continued for
three days. Belated mails straggled in, showing that the American Army
was still resisting. “New Orleans is not taken yet,” said the Western
members, and the Republican editors. “It is merely a question of time,”
replied the Federalists; “the next mail will finish New Orleans and
you.”
In the midst of that setting, on February 4th, a horseman came into
Washington, bearing glorious news for the Administration forces. He had
dispatches from General Jackson, detailing the decisive victory of
January 8th.
Washington was wild with delight at the unexpected victory. “That
evening,” still quoting from Parton, “the town was blazing with light,
and the whole populace was abroad, now thronging about the White House
(temporary), cheering the President, then surging around the houses of
the Secretaries, and residences of the leading supporters of the war,
rending the air with shouts.... The next issue of the _National
Intelligencer_ cannot be glanced over to this day without exciting in
the mind something of the feeling which is wont to express itself by
three times three and one cheer more. The great news was headed, in the
_Intelligencer’s_ largest type, ‘Almost Incredible Victory!!!!’”
It was worth a life time to experience the jubilation of that night! It
was the sudden restoration of a people’s national self-respect.
The news of the reception of the victory elsewhere was equally as
thrilling. It aroused what Parton called the “maddest enthusiasm.” A
quotation may be given from the autobiography of Mr. John Binns: “A
general illumination was ordered in Philadelphia. Few indeed there were
yet there were a few who on that night closed their window shutters and
mourned the defeat of the enemies of their country. I had early
intelligence of this joyful news, and gladly, by an extra, spread it
abroad. I put scene painters to work, and had a transparency painted,
which covered nearly the whole front of my house. There had been a heavy
snow fall, and there was that evening from nine to twelve inches of snow
on the ground. That, however, did not prevent men, women and children
from parading the street, and delighting their eyes by looking at the
illumination and illuminated transparencies, which made the principal
streets of our city as light as day. My transparency represented General
Jackson on horseback at the head of his staff, in pursuit of the enemy,
with the motto: ‘This day shall ne’er go by, from this day to the ending
of the world, but He, in it, shall be remembered.’”
This gives in brief a glimpse of the effect in the country of the news
of the victory at New Orleans. How can any American describe it as a
needless battle? After the event it might have been deplored by the
British as needless, just as any lost battle may be so regarded.
Just ten days after that lone horseman rode into Washington on February
4th, the Treaty reached the Capitol, and under the inspiration of the
great victory at New Orleans, it was joyfully and speedily ratified.