British Designs on the Southwest--New Orleans as a City of Refuge--The
Baratarians--The Pirates Reject British Advances--General Jackson Storms
Pensacola--Captain Reid's Splendid Fight at Fayal--Edward Livingston
Advises Jackson--Cotton Bales for Redoubts--The British Invasion--Jackson
Attacks the British at Villere's--The Opposing Armies--General Pakenham
Attempts to Carry Jackson's Lines by Storm--The British Charge--They Are
Defeated with Frightful Slaughter--Pakenham Killed--Last Naval Engagement
--The President-Endymion Fight--Peace--England Deserts the Indians as
She Had Deserted the Tories--Decatur Chastises the Algerians.
An invasion of the Southwest by way of the Mississippi, and the seizure
of New Orleans, were also included in the British plans. New Orleans at
this time, although many good people were included among its inhabitants,
attracted the refuse of the United States. The character of the place can
be judged from an incident which occurred in Boston about the period of
which I am writing. A merchant who had formed an establishment in
Louisiana, happening to be in Boston, saw in a newspaper of that city a
vessel advertised to sail thence for New Orleans. He called upon the
owner, and asked him to consign the ship to his house. The owner told the
applicant in strict confidence that he had no intention of sending the
vessel to New Orleans, but had advertised that alleged destination in the
hope that among the persons applying for a passage he should find a
rascal who had defrauded one of his friends out of a considerable sum of
money, "New Orleans," he added, "being the natural rendezvous of rogues
and scoundrels." Among persons answering the latter description were the
pirates known as "Baratarians," because they lived on Barataria Bay, just
west of the mouths of the Mississippi River. They pretended to prey upon
Spanish commerce only, but they made very little distinction and sold
their plunder openly in the markets of New Orleans. The slave-trade was,
however, their chief resource. They captured Spanish and other slaves on
the high seas, and sold them to planters who were glad to buy for from
$150 to $200 each, negroes worth three or four times that amount in the
regular market. Jean Lafitte was the chief of these marauders. A
Frenchman by origin he felt some attachment, it appears, to the country
which tolerated him and his fellow-pirates, and when the commander of the
British Gulf Squadron offered to pay the Baratarians to join him in an
attack on New Orleans, Lafitte at once sent the dispatches received from
the British to Governor Claiborne, of Louisiana. The people of New
Orleans, under the leadership of Edward Livingston, the noted jurist, and
former mayor of New York, organized a Committee of Safety, and prepared
to assist in repelling the enemy. General Jackson, now major-general in
the regular army, and in command of the Department of the South, repulsed
the British from Mobile, and took Pensacola by storm, and thus freed from
apprehension of an attack from Florida, he proceeded to defend New
Orleans.
Fortunately for the American cause Captain Samuel C. Reid, commander of
the privateer General Armstong, being attacked in the neutral harbor of
Fayal by the British commodore, Lloyd, and his squadron, resisted the
onset with such extraordinary courage and energy as to severely cripple
his assailants. Captain Reid was obliged to scuttle his ship to prevent
her from falling into the hands of the British, but the latter lost one
hundred and twenty killed and one hundred and thirty wounded in the
unequal battle, and Lloyd's squadron was not able to join the expedition
at Jamaica until ten days after the date appointed for departure. The
General Armstrong lost only two men killed and seven wounded in this
memorable fight, which gave Jackson ample time to prepare the defence of
New Orleans.
To New Orleans had resorted many adherents of the old Bourbon monarchy,
driven from France by the Revolution, and also at a more recent date some
of the followers of Napoleon. Among the former was a French emigrant
major named St. Geme, who had once been in the English service in
Jamaica, and now commanded a company in a battalion of citizens. This
officer had been a favored companion of the distinguished French general,
Moreau, when the latter, on a visit to Louisiana, a few years previously,
had scanned with the critical eye of a tactician, the position of New
Orleans and its capabilities of defence. Edward Livingston, who acted as
an aide-de-camp to General Jackson, advised the general to consult St.
Geme, and the latter pointed out the Rodriguez Canal as the position
which Moreau himself had fixed upon as the most defensible, especially
for irregular troops. Jackson approved and acted upon the advice thus
given, and hastened to cast up intrenchments along the line of the canal
from the Mississippi back to an impassable swamp two miles away. In
building the redoubts the ground was found to be swampy and slimy, and
the earth almost unavailable for any sort of fortification, whereupon a
French engineer suggested the employment of cotton bales. The requisite
cotton was at once taken from a barque already laden for Havana. The
owner of the cotton, Vincent Nolte, complained to Edward Livingston, who
was his usual legal adviser. "Well, Nolte," said Livingston, "since it is
your cotton you will not mind the trouble of defending it."[1] Before the
final battle a red hot ball set fire to the cotton, thereby endangering
the gunpowder, and the cotton was removed, leaving only an earth
embankment about five feet high, with a ditch in front to protect the
Americans.
[1] A similar remark has been incorrectly attributed to Jackson.
The British troops, about 7000 in number, disembarked at Lake Borgne,
after capturing an American flotilla which had been sent to prevent the
landing. About nine miles from New Orleans, at Villere's Plantation, the
invaders formed a camp, and they were suddenly attacked by Jackson on the
evening of December 23. The battle raged fearfully in the darkness,
Jackson's Tennesseans using knives and tomahawks with deadly effect. The
Americans had the advantage, but in the fog and darkness Jackson could
not follow up his success. Lieutenant-General Edward Pakenham, one of the
bravest and ablest of Wellington's veterans, landed on Christmas Day with
reinforcements which made the British army about 8000 strong. Jackson had
planted heavy guns along his line of defence, and had about 4000 men to
receive Pakenham. Among the most efficient of these were the 500 riflemen
who fought with Jackson against the Creeks, and who were known as
Coffee's brigade, from their commander's name. Trained in repeated
encounters with the savages they knew little of military organization,
but were inaccessible to fear, perfectly cool in danger, of great
presence of mind and personal resource, and above all unerring marksmen.
Among the New Orleans militia were several officers who had served under
Napoleon, and had met on the battlefields of Europe the British veterans
they were now about to confront in America. The Baratarians, too, should
not be forgotten, and these, with the regular troops, the militia and the
citizens, and many negroes, free and slave, composed about as mixed an
array as ever fought a battle on American soil.[2]
[2] More than half of Jackson's command was composed of negroes, who
were principally employed with the spade, but several battalions of
them were armed, and in the presence of the whole army received the
thanks of General Jackson for their gallantry. On each anniversary
the negro survivors of the battle always turned out in large
numbers--so large, indeed, as to excite the suspicion that they were
not all genuine.--_Albert D. Richardson._
The British made an assault on the twenty-eighth, and were repulsed with
loss. On the night of December 31, they prepared for the closing struggle
by erecting batteries upon which they mounted heavy ordnance within six
hundred yards of the American breastworks. On the morning of January 1,
1815, the British opened fire, Jackson replying with his heavy guns. The
British batteries were demolished, an attempt to turn the American flank
was repulsed by Coffee and his riflemen, and the day ended in gloom and
disaster for the invaders. The American forces, strengthened by the
arrival of one thousand Kentuckians, awaited the renewal of the attack.
Pakenham determined to carry Jackson's lines by storm. At dawn on January
8, the British advanced in solid column under a most destructive fire
from the American batteries. On marched the men before whom the best
troops of Napoleon had been unable to stand--on they marched as steadily
as if on parade, the living closing in as the dead and wounded dropped
out. Was it to be Badajos over again?
The British were within two hundred yards of the American breastworks.
Suddenly the Tennessee and Kentucky sharpshooters, four ranks deep, rose
from their concealment, and at the command--"Fire!"--a storm of bullets
swept through the British lines. And it was not a single volley. As the
Tennesseans fired they fell back and loaded, while the Kentuckians fired.
And so the deadly blast of lead mowed down the British ranks while round
and grape and chain-shot ploughed and shrieked through the now wavering
battalions. General Pakenham, at the head of his men, urged them forward
with encouraging words, while he had one horse shot under him and his
bridle arm disabled by a bullet. The British rallied and rushed forward
again amid the tempest of death. Pakenham, mortally wounded, was caught
in the arms of his aid, and his troops, no longer sustained by their
leader's presence and example, fell back in disorder. In this fearful
charge the British lost 2600 men, killed, wounded and made prisoners. The
Americans lost only eight killed and thirteen wounded. On the night of
January 19, the British retired to their fleet.
* * *
The last naval engagement of the war took place in January, 1815, between
the American frigate President, forty-four guns, commanded by Commodore
Stephen Decatur, and the British frigate, Endymion, forty guns, Captain
Hope. The battle began about three o'clock in the afternoon, and lasted
until eleven o'clock at night, both commanders showing remarkable skill
and resolution in the conflict, which was at long range. The Endymion was
nearly dismantled and about to surrender when three other British
men-of-war came up, and Decatur, being overpowered, had to strike his
colors. The President had twenty-four men killed and fifty-six wounded,
and the Endymion had eleven killed and fourteen wounded.
* * *
A treaty of peace had been signed at Ghent between the American and
British commissioners on Christmas Eve, 1814. England yielded nothing
and received nothing. The issues which had provoked the war were ignored
in its termination--indeed it was unnecessary to deal with them. As
_Niles Register_ stated the case in December, 1814: "With the general
pacification of Europe, the chief causes for which we went to war with
Great Britain have, from the nature of things, ceased to affect us; it is
not for us to quarrel for forms. Britain may pretend to any right she
pleases, provided she does not exercise it to our injury." The moral
effect of the war was, however, favorable to the United States. American
naval victories and the battle of New Orleans taught England that America
was not an enemy to be despised on either sea or land. The War of 1812 has
sometimes been called the second War of Independence, and its effect
certainly was to establish for the United States a respectable position
among independent powers. Even England's satellites in the confederacy
against Napoleon could not but admire the courage of the American people
in bearding the British lion, and the chief magistrate of Ghent voiced the
feeling of Europe when he offered the sentiment, at a dinner to the
American Commissioners--"May they succeed in making an honorable peace to
secure the liberty and independence of their country."
England had to give up her demand for special terms for the Indians who
had assisted her in the war. The scheme to create an Indian nation in the
Northwest, with permanent boundaries, not to be trespassed by the United
States, was abandoned, although at first declared by the British
Commissioners to be a _sine qua non_ and the Indians had to accept terms
dictated by the United States. The British had made lavish promises to the
Indians when seeking them for allies, but the red men were deserted, as
the loyalists of the Revolution had been deserted, at the close of
hostilities. The Indians felt this keenly, especially as the Americans
treated them as generously as if no hostilities had interrupted former
relations.
* * *
Peace with England gave the United States opportunity to chastise the
Algerians, whose Dey, Hadgi Ali, a sanguinary tyrant, had been committing
outrages on American commerce ever since the beginning of the war with
the British. Commodore Decatur was sent to the Mediterranean in May,
1815, with a squadron to chastise the Dey. He had no difficulty in
encountering the Algerian corsairs, who supposed that the American navy
no longer existed. Decatur, after a brief engagement, captured the Dey's
flagship, and this was followed by the capture of another man-of-war
belonging to the pirates. Decatur then sailed for Algiers with his
squadron and prizes. The terrified despot appeared on the quarter-deck of
Decatur's flagship, the Guerriere, gave up the captives in his hands, and
signed a treaty dictated by the American commodore. Decatur then sailed
to Tunis and Tripoli, and compelled the rulers of those States to make
restitution for having allowed the British to capture American vessels in
their harbors. In view of the services of the Danish consul, Mr. Nissen,
when Captain Bainbridge was a prisoner in Tripoli, it is gratifying to
know that Commodore Decatur, while in that port, secured the release of
eight Danish seamen. History does not record whether Decatur, on this
occasion, visited the lonely grave supposed to contain the mortal remains
of Somers, the companion of his youth, and the hero of the gunpowder
enterprise during the war with Tripoli. What emotions must have filled
Decatur's mind as the old scenes brought back to him the memory of his
own brave exploit--the destruction of the Philadelphia--and of the
unhappy fate of his bosom friend!
South America Free.