AUSTILL WAS STRUGGLING."]
The canoe fight was ended, but Dale's work was not yet done. His party
on the bank were every minute more closely pressed, and if they were to
be saved it must be done quickly. For this purpose he and his companions
at once began clearing the big canoe of its load of dead Indians. Now
that only the white men were there, the Indians upon the bank directed a
galling fire upon the canoe, but by careening it to one side Dale made a
sort of breastwork of its thick gunwale, and thus succeeded in clearing
it. When this was done he went ashore and quickly carried off the party
there, landing all of them in safety on the other side.
The hero of this singular battle lived until the year 1841. The whole
story of his life is a romance of hardship, daring, and wonderful
achievement. When he died, General John F. H. Claiborne, who knew him
intimately, wrote a sketch of his career for a Natchez newspaper, in
which he described him as follows:
"In person General Dale was tall, erect, raw-boned, and muscular. In
many respects, physical and moral, he resembled his antagonists of the
woods. He had the square forehead, the high cheek-bones, the compressed
lips, and, in fact, the physiognomy of an Indian, relieved, however, by
a firm, benevolent Saxon eye. Like the red men, too, his foot fell
lightly upon the ground, and turned neither to the right nor left. He
was habitually taciturn, his face grave, he spoke slowly and in low
tones, and he seldom laughed. I observed of him what I have often noted
as peculiar to border men of high attributes: he entertained the
strongest attachment for the Indians, extolled their courage, their love
of country, and many of their domestic qualities; and I have often seen
the wretched remnant of the Choctaws camped round his plantation and
subsisting on his crops."
It is a curious fact that after the war ended, when Weatherford (Red
Eagle), who commanded the Indians on the shore in this battle with Dale,
was about to marry, he asked Dale to act as his best man, and the two
who had fought each other so desperately stood side by side, as devoted
friends, at the altar.
THE BATTLE OF LAKE BORGNE.
HOW THE BRITISH MADE A LANDING UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
When the British made up their minds, near the end of the year 1814, to
take New Orleans, and thus to get control of the Mississippi River,
there seemed to be very little difficulty in their way.
So far as anybody on either side could see, their only trouble was
likely to be in making a landing. If they could once get their splendid
army on shore anywhere near the city, there was very little to prevent
them from taking the town, and if they had taken it, it is easy to see
that the whole history of the United States would have been changed.
They did make a landing, but they did not take New Orleans, and in the
story of "The Battle in the Dark" I shall tell how and why they failed.
In the present story I want to tell how they landed.
The expedition consisted of a large fleet bearing a large army. At first
the intention was to sail up the Mississippi River, but General Jackson
made that impossible by building strong forts on the stream, and so it
was necessary to try some other plan.
It happens that New Orleans has two entrances from the sea. The river
flows in front of the city, and by that route it is about a hundred
miles from the city to the sea; but just behind the town, only a few
miles away, lies a great bay called Lake Pontchartrain. This bay is
connected by a narrow strait with another bay called Lake Borgne, which
is connected directly with the sea.
Lake Borgne is very shallow, but the British knew little about it. They
only knew that if they could land anywhere on the banks of Lake Borgne
or Lake Pontchartrain they would be within an easy march of New Orleans.
Accordingly, the fleet bearing the British army, instead of entering the
mouth of the Mississippi, and trying to get to New Orleans in front,
sailed in by the back way, and anchored near the entrance of Lake
Borgne.
Here the British had their first sight of the preparations made to
resist them. Six little gun-boats, carrying twenty-three guns in all,
were afloat on the lake under command of Lieutenant Thomas Ap Catesby
Jones. These gun-boats were mere mosquitoes in comparison with the great
British men-of-war, and when they made their appearance in the track of
the invading fleet, the British laughed and wondered at the
foolhardiness of the American commander in sending such vessels there.
Lieutenant Thomas Ap Catesby Jones knew what he was about, however, as
the British soon found out. He sailed up almost within cannon-shot of
the enemy's ships, and they, of course, gave chase to him. Then he
nimbly sailed away, with the fleet after him. Very soon a large
man-of-war ran aground; then another and another struck the bottom, and
the British Admiral began to understand the trick. It was evident that
Lake Borgne was much too shallow for the large ships, and so the
commander called a halt, and transferred the troops to the smaller
vessels of the fleet.
When that was done the chase was begun again by the smaller ships, and
for a time with every prospect of success; but presently even these
ships were hard aground, and the whole British fleet which had been
intended to carry the army across the lake was stuck fast in the mud
near the entrance, and thirty miles from the point at which the landing
was to be made.
The British commander was at his wits' end. It was clear that the ships
could not cross the lake, and the only thing to be done was to transport
the army across little by little in the ships' boats, and make a landing
in that way. But to do that while Lieutenant Jones and his gun-boats
were afloat was manifestly impossible. If it had been attempted, the
little gun-boats, which could sail anywhere on the lake, would have
destroyed the British army by boat-loads.
There was nothing to be done until the saucy little fleet was out of
the way, and to put it out of the way was not easy.
Lieutenant Jones was an officer very much given to hard fighting, and in
this case the British saw that they must fight him at a disadvantage. As
they could not get to him in their ships, they must make an attack in
open boats, which, of course, was a very dangerous thing to do, as the
American gun-boats were armed with cannon.
The British commander wanted his bravest men for such work, and so he
called for volunteers to man the boats. A thousand gallant fellows
offered themselves, and were placed in fifty boats, under command of
Captain Lockyer. Each boat was armed with a carronade--a kind of small
cannon--but the men well knew that the real fighting was not to be done
with carronades. The only hope of success lay in a sudden, determined
attack. The only way to capture the American gun-boats was to row up to
them in the face of their fire, climb over their sides, and take them by
force in a hand-to-hand fight.
[Illustration: BOARDING THE GUN-BOATS.]
When the flotilla set sail, on the 14th of December, Lieutenant Jones
knew what their mode of attack would be quite as well as Captain Lockyer
did. If he let them attack him in the open lake he knew very well that
the British could overpower him and capture his fleet; but he did not
intend to be attacked in the open lake if he could help it. His plan was
to sail slowly, keeping just out of reach of the row-boats, and
gradually to draw them to the mouth of the strait which leads into Lake
Pontchartrain. At that point there was a well-armed fort, and if he
could anchor his gun-boats across the narrow channel, he believed he
could destroy the British flotilla with the aid of the fort, and thus
beat off the expedition from New Orleans.
Unluckily, while the fleet was yet far from the mouth of the strait the
wind failed entirely, and the gun-boats were helpless. They could not
sail without wind, and they must receive the attack right where they
were.
At daylight on the morning of December 15 the British flotilla was
about nine miles away, but was rapidly drawing nearer, the boats being
propelled by oars. Lieutenant Jones called the commanders of his
gun-boats together, gave them instructions, and informed them of his
purpose to make as obstinate a fight as possible. His case was hopeless;
his fleet would be captured, but by fighting obstinately he could at
least gain time for General Jackson at New Orleans, and time was greatly
needed there.
Meanwhile the British boats, carrying a thousand men, all accustomed to
desperate fighting, approached and anchored just out of gunshot. Captain
Lockyer wished his men to go into action in the best condition possible,
and therefore he came to anchor in order to rest the oarsmen, and to
give the men time for breakfast.
At half-past ten o'clock the British weighed anchor, and, forming in
line, began the advance. As soon as they came within range the American
gun-boats opened fire, but with little effect at first. Of course the
British could not reply at such a distance, but being under fire, their
chief need was to go forward as fast and come to close quarters as
quickly as possible. The sailors bent to their oars, and the boats flew
over the water. Soon the men at the bows began to fire the carronades in
reply to the American cannon. Then as the boats drew nearer, small arms
came into use, and the battle grew fiercer with every moment. The
British boats were with difficulty kept in line, and their advance grew
slower. Oarsmen were killed, and time was lost in putting others into
their places. Still the line was preserved, and the battle went on, the
attacking boats slowly and steadily advancing all the time.
Two of the American gun-boats had drifted out of place, and were
considerably in advance of the rest. Seeing this, Captain Lockyer
ordered the men commanding the British boats to surround them, and a few
minutes later the sailors were climbing over the sides of these vessels.
Their attack was stoutly resisted. The American sailors above them fired
volleys into their faces, and beat them back with handspikes. Scores of
the British fell back into the water dead or wounded, while their
comrades pressed forward to fill their places. There were so many of
them that in spite of all the Americans could do to beat them off they
swarmed over the gunwales and gained the decks. Their work was not yet
done, however. The Americans fiercely contested every inch of their
advance, and the two parties hewed each other down with cutlasses, the
Americans being slowly beaten back by superior numbers, but still
obstinately fighting until they could fight no more.
One by one all the gun-boats were taken in this way, Lieutenant Jones's
vessel holding out longest, and the Lieutenant himself fighting till he
was stricken down with a severe wound.
Having thus cleared Lake Borgne, the British were free to begin the work
of landing. It was a terrible undertaking, however--scarcely less so
than the fight itself. The whole army had to be carried thirty miles in
open boats and landed in a swamp. The men were drenched with rain, and,
a frost coming on, their clothes were frozen on their bodies. There was
no fuel to be had on the island where they made their first landing, and
to their sufferings from cold was added severe suffering from hunger
before supplies of food could be brought to them. Some of the sailors
who were engaged in rowing the boats were kept at work for four days and
nights without relief.
The landing was secured, however, and the British cared little for the
sufferings it had cost them. They believed then that they had little
more to do except to march twelve miles and take possession of the city,
with its one hundred and fifty thousand bales of cotton and its ten
thousand hogsheads of sugar. How it came about that they were
disappointed is made clear in the next story.
THE BATTLE IN THE DARK.
HOW GENERAL JACKSON RECEIVED THE BRITISH.
When the British succeeded in taking Lieutenant Jones's little gun-boats
and making a landing, after the manner described in the preceding story,
they supposed that the hardest part of their work was done. It was not
far from their landing-place to New Orleans, and there was nothing in
their way. Their army numbered nearly twenty thousand men, and the men
were the best soldiers that England had. Many of them were Wellington's
veterans.
It seemed certain that such an army could march into New Orleans with
very little trouble indeed, and everybody on both sides thought
so--everybody, that is to say, but General Jackson. He meant to fight
that question out, and as the Legislature and many of the people in the
city would do nothing to help him, he put the town under martial law,
and worked night and day to get together something like an army.
On the 23d of December, 1814, the British arrived at a point a few miles
below the city, and went into camp about noon. As soon as Jackson heard
of their arrival he said to the people around him, "Gentlemen, the
British are below: we must fight them tonight."
He immediately ordered his troops forward. He had made a soldier of
everybody who could carry a gun, and his little army was a curiously
mixed collection of men. There were a few regulars, in uniform; there
were some Mississippi troopers, and Coffee's Kentucky and Tennessee
hunters, in hunting-shirts and jeans trousers; there were volunteers of
all sorts from the streets of New Orleans--merchants, lawyers, laborers,
clerks, and clergymen--armed with shot-guns, rifles, and old muskets;
there were some criminals whom Jackson had released from prison on
condition that they would fight; there was a battalion of free negroes,
who were good soldiers; and, finally, there were about twenty Choctaw
Indians.
[Illustration: GENERAL JACKSON AT NEW ORLEANS.]
With this mixed crowd Jackson had to fight the very best troops in the
British army. Only about half of his men had ever heard a bullet
whistle, and less than half of them were drilled and disciplined; but
they were brave men who believed in their general, and they were about
to fight for their country as brave men should. When all were
counted--backwoodsmen, regulars, city volunteers, negroes, Indians, and
all--the whole army numbered only 2131 men! But, weak as this force was,
Jackson had made up his mind to fight with it. He knew that the British
were too strong for him, but he knew too that every day would make them
stronger, as more and more of their troops would come forward each day.
The British camp was nine miles below the city, on a narrow strip of
land between the river and a swamp. Jackson sent a gun-boat, the
_Carolina_, down the river, with orders to anchor in front of the camp
and pour a fire of grape-shot into it. He sent Coffee across to the
swamp, and ordered him to creep through the bushes, and thus get upon
the right flank of the British. He kept the rest of his army under his
own command, ready to advance from the front upon the enemy's position.
But no attack was to be made until after dark. The army was kept well
out of sight, and the British had no suspicion that any attack was
thought of. They did not regard Jackson's men as soldiers at all, but
called them a _posse comitatus_ of ragamuffins--that is to say, a mob of
ragged citizens--and the most they expected such a mob to do was to wait
somewhere below the city until the British soldiers should get ready to
drive them away with a few volleys.
So the British lighted their camp-fires, stacked their arms for the
night, and cooked their suppers. They meant to stay where they were for
a day or two until the rest of their force could come up, and then they
expected to march into the town and make themselves at home.
Night came on, and it was exceedingly dark. At half-past seven o'clock
there came a flash and a roar. The _Carolina_, lying in the river,
within a few hundred yards of the camp, had begun to pour her broadsides
into the British quarters. Her cannon vomited fire, and sent a
hail-storm of grape-shot into the camp, while the marines on board kept
up a steady fire of small-arms.
The British were completely surprised, but they were cool-headed old
soldiers, who were not to be scared by a surprise. They quickly formed a
line on the bank, and, bringing up some cannon, gave battle to the saucy
gun-boat.
For ten minutes this fight went on between the Americans on the river
and the British on shore; then Jackson ordered his troops to advance.
His columns rushed forward and fell upon the enemy, again surprising
them, and forcing them to fight on two sides at once. Coffee, who was
hidden over in the swamp, no sooner heard the roar of the _Carolina's_
guns than he gave the word to advance, and, rushing out of the bushes,
his rough Tennesseeans and Kentuckians attacked still another side of
the enemy's position.
Still the sturdy British held their ground, and fought like the brave
men and good soldiers that they were. It was too dark for anybody to see
clearly what was going on. The lines on both sides were soon broken up
into independent groups of soldiers, who could not see in what direction
they were marching, or maintain anything like a regular fight. Regiments
and battalions wandered about at their own discretion, fighting whatever
bodies of the enemy they met, and sometimes getting hopelessly entangled
with each other. Never was there so complete a jumble on a battle-field.
Whenever two bodies of troops met, they had to call out to each other to
find out whether they were friends or foes; then, if one body proved to
be Americans and the other British, they delivered a volley, and rushed
upon each other in a desperate struggle for mastery.
Sometimes a regiment would win success in one direction, and just as its
enemy on that side was driven back, it would be attacked from the
opposite quarter. Coffee's men were armed with squirrel rifles, which,
of course, had no bayonets; but the men had their long hunting-knives,
and with no better weapons than these they did not hesitate to make
charge after charge upon the lines of gleaming bayonets.
The British suffered terribly from the first, but their steadiness was
never lost for a moment. The mad onset of the Americans broke their
lines, and in the darkness it was impossible to form them again
promptly; but still the men kept up the fight, while the officers, as
rapidly as they could, directed their detached columns towards protected
positions.
Retreating slowly and in as good order as they could, the British got
beyond the range of the _Carolina's_ guns by nine o'clock, and, finding
a position where a bank of earth served for a breastwork, they made a
final stand there. It was impossible to drive them from such a position,
and so, little by little, the Americans withdrew, and at ten o'clock
the Battle in the Dark was at an end.
Now let us see what Jackson had gained or lost by this hasty attack. The
British were still in a position to threaten New Orleans. They had not
been driven away, and the rest of their large army, which had not yet
come up, was hurrying forward to help them. They had lost a great many
more men than Jackson had, but they could spare men better than he
could, and they were not whipped by any means. Still, the attack was
equal to a victory for the Americans. It is almost certain that if
Jackson had waited another day before fighting he would have lost New
Orleans, and the whole Southwest would have been overrun.
But, by making this night attack, he showed the British that he could
and would fight; and they, finding what kind of a defence he meant to
make, made up their minds to move slowly and cautiously. They waited for
the rest of their force to come up, and while they were waiting and
getting ready Jackson had more than two weeks' time in which to collect
troops from the country north of him, to get arms and ammunition, and to
throw up strong fortifications. When the British made their grand attack
on the 8th of January, 1815, they found Jackson ready for them. His army
was increased, his men were full of confidence, and, best of all, he had
a line of strong earth-works to fight behind. It is commonly said that
his fortifications were made of cotton-bales, but that is an error. When
he first began to fortify, he used some cotton-bales, and some sugar,
which, it was thought, would do instead of sand; but in some of the
early skirmishes it was found that the sugar was useless, because it
would not stop cannon-balls; while the cotton was worse, because it took
fire, and nearly suffocated the men behind it with smoke. The cotton and
sugar were at once thrown aside, and the battle of New Orleans was
fought behind earth-works. In that battle the British were so badly
worsted that they gave up all idea of taking New Orleans, which, a month
before, they had believed it would be so easy to capture.
THE TROUBLESOME BURGHERS.
Philip van Artevelde was a Dutchman. His father, Jacob, had been
Governor of Ghent, and had made himself a great name by leading a revolt
against the Count of Flanders, and driving that tyrant out of the
country on one occasion.
Philip was a quiet man, who attended to his own affairs and took no part
in public business; but in the year 1381 the good people of Ghent found
themselves in a very great difficulty. Their city was subject to the
Count of Flanders, who oppressed them in every way. He and his nobles
thought nothing of the common people, but taxed them heavily and
interfered with their business.
The city of Bruges was the rival of Ghent, and in those days rivals in
trade were enemies. The Bruges people were not satisfied with trying to
make more money and get more business than Ghent could, but they wanted
Ghent destroyed, and so they supported Count Louis in all that he did to
injure their neighboring city.
Having this quarrel on their hands, the Ghent people did not know what
to do. Count Louis was too strong for them, and they were very much
afraid he would destroy their town and put the people to death.
A public meeting was held, and remembering how well old Jacob van
Artevelde had served them against the father of Count Louis, they made
his son Philip their captain, and told him he must manage this quarrel
for them.
Philip undertook this duty, and tried to settle the trouble in some
peaceable way; but the Count was angry, and would not listen to anything
that Van Artevelde proposed. He said the Ghent people were rebels, and
must submit without any conditions at all, and this the sturdy Ghent
burghers refused to do.
Count Louis would not march against the town and give the people a fair
chance to fight the matter out. He preferred to starve them, and for
that purpose he put soldiers on all the roads leading towards Ghent, and
refused to allow any provisions to be taken to the city.
The people soon ate up nearly all the food they had, and when the spring
of 1382 came they were starving. Something must be done at once, and
Philip van Artevelde decided that it was of no use to resist any longer.
He took twelve deputies with him, and went to beg the Count for mercy.
He offered to submit to any terms the Count might propose, if he would
only promise not to put any of the people to death. Philip even offered
himself as a victim, agreeing that the Count should banish him from the
country as a punishment, if he would spare the people of the town. But
the haughty Count would promise nothing. He said that all the people of
Ghent from fifteen to sixty years old must march half-way to Bruges
bareheaded, with no clothes on but their shirts, and each with a rope
around his neck, and then he would decide how many of them he would put
to death and how many he would spare.
The Count thought the poor Ghent people would have to submit to this,
and he meant to put them all to death when they should thus come out
without arms to surrender. He therefore called on his vassals to meet
him in Bruges at Easter, and to go out with him to "destroy these
troublesome burghers."
But the "troublesome burghers," as we shall see presently, were not the
kind of men to walk out bareheaded, with ropes around their necks, and
submit to destruction.
Philip van Artevelde returned sadly to Ghent, on the 29th of April, and
told the people what the Count had said. Then the gallant old soldier
Peter van den Bossche exclaimed: