General Jackson appointed Major-General -- Hostility of
Spain -- Gallant defence of Fort Bowyer -- Seizure of
Pensacola -- Jackson at New Orleans -- Approach and landing
of the British -- Jackson proclaims martial law -- Night
attack on the British -- Jackson entrenches himself -- First
attack of the British -- Second attack -- Final Assault --
The battle and the victory -- Jackson fined by Judge Hall --
Arrival of the Treaty of Peace -- Great Rejoicings --
Delegates of the Hartford Convention -- Remarks on the
treaty.
In the mean time, great anxiety was felt for the fate of New Orleans,
towards which an imposing armament was hastening, bearing a veteran
army fresh from the victorious fields of Spain. England had loaned
this army to feudalism in Europe for the overthrow of free principles
there, and intoxicated with success, resolved to use it to carry out
here the same tyrannical system which has ever since been covering her
with infamy and for which the final day of reckoning has not yet
arrived.
Jackson had been appointed Major-General in place of Harrison, who
resigned, and given the command of the southern army to which was
entrusted the protection of the coast near the mouth of the
Mississippi. Pensacola, then under Spanish authority, was the resort
of British emissaries, who stirred up the surrounding savages to
massacre and bloodshed, and he determined as a first step to take
active measures against it. [Sidenote: August.] He sent Captain Gordon
to reconnoitre the place, who reported, on his return, that he had
seen a number of soldiers and several hundred savages in British
uniform under drill by British officers. Jackson immediately
despatched this report to government. Under such a palpable violation
of treaty stipulations there was only one course to be pursued, and
Gen. Armstrong, the Secretary of War, issued an order authorizing
Jackson to attack the town. This order was made out; but, by some
mysterious process, was so long in getting into the post-office, that
it never reached its destination till the 17th of January the next
year. Jackson waited patiently for the sanction of his government to
move forward, not wishing that his first important step as
Major-General in the regular army should meet the disapproval of those
who had entrusted him with power. But a proclamation, issued by a
British officer named Nicholls, and dated Pensacola, calling on all
the negroes and savages, nay, even the Americans themselves, to rally
to the British standard, put an end to his indecision.
In the mean time, Nicholls made an attempt on Fort Bowyer, a small
redoubt, garrisoned by one hundred and twenty men, and defended by
twenty pieces of cannon. This fortress commanded the entrance from the
Gulf to Mobile. [Sidenote: Sept. 12.] To capture it, four British
ships, carrying ninety guns, and a land force of over seven hundred
men were despatched from Pensacola. On the 15th, the ships took up
their position within musket-shot of the fort, and opened their fire.
The land force, in the mean time, had gained the rear, and commenced
an attack. Major Lawrence, with the brave little garrison under his
command, met this double onset with the coolness of a veteran.
Scattering the motley collection under Nicholls, with a few discharges
of grape-shot, he turned his entire attention to the vessels of war.
Being in such close range, the cannonading on both sides was terrific.
The incessant and heavy explosions shook that little redoubt to its
foundations; but at the end of three hours, the smoke slowly curled
away from its battered sides, revealing the flag still flying aloft,
and the begrimed cannoniers standing sternly beside their pieces.
After the firing of the enemy ceased, the ship Hermes was seen
drifting helplessly on a sand-bank, while the other vessels were
crowding all sail seaward. The former soon after grounded within six
hundred yards of the fort, whose guns opened on her anew with
tremendous effect, and she soon blew up. Out of the one hundred and
seventy who composed her crew, only twenty escaped. The other ships
suffered severely, and the total loss of the enemy was one ship
burned, and two hundred and thirty-two men killed and wounded, while
only eight of the garrison were killed. Nicholls effected his retreat
to Pensacola, where the governor received him as his guest, and threw
open the public stores to the soldiers. On the flag-staff of the fort
were "entwined the colors of Spain and England," as if on purpose to
announce that all neutrality was at an end.
These things coming to Jackson's ear, he resolved to delay no longer
but get possession of the town and fort at once, "peaceably if he
could, forcibly if he must." [Sidenote: Nov. 6.] He immediately
hastened to Fort Montgomery, where he had assembled four thousand men,
and putting himself at their head, in four days encamped within two
miles of the place, and despatched a flag to the Spanish governor,
disclosing his object and purpose. The messenger was fired upon from
the fort, and compelled to return. Jackson's fiery nature was
instantly aroused by this insult, yet remembering that he was acting
without the sanction of government, he resolved still to negotiate.
Having, at length, succeeded in opening a Correspondence with the
governor, he told him that he had come to take possession of the
town, and hold it for Spain till she was able to preserve her
neutrality. The governor refusing entirely to be relieved from his
charge, Jackson put his columns in motion and marched straight on the
town. At the entrance, a battery of two cannon opened on his central
column; but these being speedily carried by storm, together with two
fortified houses, the troops, with loud shouts, pressed forward, and
in a few minutes were masters of the place. The Spanish governor no
sooner saw the American soldiers with loud hurrahs inundating the
streets, than he rushed forward imploring mercy, and promising an
immediate surrender. Jackson at once ordered the recall to be sounded,
and retired without the town. The commandant of the fort, however,
refused to surrender it, when Jackson ordered an assault. The former
wisely averted the approaching blow by lowering his flag. The British
fled, taking with them their allies, four hundred of whom being
negroes, were carried to the West Indies, and sold for slaves.
Having thus chastised the Spanish governor, and broken up the plans
laid to renew the Indian war, Jackson took up his march for New
Orleans, against which he had no doubt the large force that had left
the eastern coast was directed. He established his headquarters there,
on the first of December; and three days after, the news that a large
British fleet was approaching the coast, spread through the city. The
report was soon confirmed, and Jackson, whom danger always
tranquilized, while it filled him with tenfold energy, began to
prepare for the approaching shock.
New Orleans, numbering at that time only thirty thousand inhabitants,
was but recently purchased from France, and the population, being
composed mostly of those in whose veins flowed Spanish and French
blood, did not feel the same patriotic ardor that animated the Eastern
cities. Many were known to be hostile, and were suspected of carrying
on treasonable correspondence with the enemy. Feeling that he had but
a slender hold on the city, and knowing that secret foes watched and
reported all his movements, Jackson was compelled to act with extreme
caution.
This hostility, as it were, in his own camp, added immensely to the
embarrassments that surrounded him. But calm, keen, resolute,
tireless, and full of courage, he soon inspired the patriotic citizens
with confidence. Resources they had not dreamed of, sprang up at his
bidding. But it needed all the renown he had won, and all his personal
influence, to impart the faintest promise of success.
He had brought only a portion of his troops with him from Pensacola.
But no sooner did he arrive, than he inspected narrowly the inlets,
bayous, and channels, marked out the location of works, ordered
obstructions raised, and then called on the different States to send
him help. A thousand regulars were immediately ordered to New Orleans,
while the Tennessee militia, under General Carrol, and the mounted
riflemen, under General Coffee, hastened as of old, to his side.
Concealing as much as possible the weakness of his force, and the bad
appointments of many of the soldiers, he strained every nerve to
increase the means of defence. The French inhabitants forgot their
hostility to the Americans in greater hate of the English, while many
others, who, hitherto, had taken little or no interest in the war,
roused by the sudden danger that threatened them, flew to arms. The
free negroes and refugees from St. Domingo, formed themselves into a
black regiment, and were incorporated into the army. Jackson's energy
and courage soon changed the whole current of feeling, and, day and
night, the sounds of martial preparation echoed along the streets of
the city. The excitement swelled higher and higher, as the hostile
fleet gradually closed towards the mouth of the Mississippi. But one
thought occupied every bosom--one topic became the theme of all
conversation. Consternation and courage moved side by side; for while
the most believed Jackson to be invincible, others, carefully weighing
the force of the armament approaching, could not but anticipate
discomfiture and destruction. Nor was this surprising; for a fleet of
more than eighty sail, under the command of Admiral Cochrane, carrying
on their decks eleven thousand veteran troops, led by men of renown,
was advancing on the city. Besides this formidable land force, there
were twelve thousand seamen and marines. The facts alone were
sufficient to cause anxiety and alarm; but rumor magnified them
fourfold. To resist all this, New Orleans had no vessels of war, no
strong fortresses, no army of veteran troops. General Jackson, with
his undisciplined and half-armed yeomanry, alone stood between the
town and destruction. He was not ignorant of the tremendous force
advancing against him; but still he was calm and resolute. To the
panic-stricken women, who roamed the streets, filling the air with
shrieks and cries of alarm, he said, "_The enemy shall never reach the
city._"
New Orleans, situated on the eastern bank of the Mississippi, was
accessible not only through the various mouths of the river, but also
with small vessels through lakes Borgne and Ponchartrain, and was
therefore a difficult place to defend, for no one could tell by what
way, or by how many ways the enemy would approach. Jackson saw that he
would be compelled to divide his forces in order to guard every
avenue. In the mean time, while he watched the approaching force, he
kept his eye on the city. The press did not manfully sustain him, and
the legislature, then in session, looked upon his actions with
suspicion, if not with hostile feelings. Although a native of another
State, and having no personal interest in the fate of the place, whose
authorities treated him with coldness, he nevertheless, determined to
save it at all hazards, and while apparently bending his vast energies
to meet an external foe, boldly assumed the control of the municipal
authority, declared martial law, and when Judge Hall liberated a
traitor whom he had imprisoned, sternly ordered the Judge himself into
confinement.
[Sidenote: Dec. 9.]
At length, the excited inhabitants were told that the British fleet
had reached the coast; sixty sail being seen near the mouth of the
Mississippi. Commodore Patterson immediately despatched Lieutenant
Jones with five gun-boats to watch its motions. This spirited
commander, in passing through Lake Borgne, discovered that the enemy,
instead of approaching direct by the river, was advancing up the
lakes. In hovering around them to ascertain their designs, he
unfortunately got becalmed, and in that position was attacked by forty
barges, containing twelve hundred men. Notwithstanding he had under
him less than two hundred men, he refused to surrender, and gallantly
returned the fire of the enemy. For a whole hour he stubbornly
maintained the unequal conquest; but, at length, after killing nearly
double his entire force, he was compelled to strike his flag.
The British had now complete control of lakes Ponchartrain and Borgne,
and advancing up the latter, entered a canal, and finally effected a
landing on the levee, about eight miles from the city. This levee acts
as a bank to keep the river from the inland, which is lower than the
surface of the water. It varies in width from a few hundred yards to
two or three miles, and is covered with plantations. Thus, now almost
like a causeway, and again like an elevated plateau, it stretches away
from the city, with the river on one side, and an impassable swamp on
the other.
The forts that commanded the river were, by this manoeuvre of the
enemy, rendered comparatively useless, and an open road to the city
lay before him. Jackson no sooner heard that the British had effected
a landing, than he determined at once to attack them before their
heavy artillery and the main body of the army could be brought
forward. On the 23d, therefore, a few hours after they had reached the
banks of the Mississippi, his columns were in motion, and by evening
halted within two miles of the hostile force. His plans were
immediately laid--the schooner of war, Caroline, commanded by
Commodore Patterson, was ordered to drop quietly down the river, soon
after dark, and anchor abreast the British encampment. General Coffee,
with between six and seven hundred men, was directed to skirt the
swamp to the left of the levee, and gain, undiscovered, the enemy's
rear; while he himself, with thirteen hundred troops, would march
directly down the river along the highway, and assail them in front.
The guns of the Caroline were to be the signal for a general attack.
She, unmolested, swept noiselessly down with the current, gained her
position, dropped her anchors, and opened her fire. The thunder and
blaze of her guns, as grape-shot and balls came rattling and crashing
into the camp of the British, were the first intimation they received
of an attack. At the same time, Generals Coffee and Jackson gave the
orders to advance. Night had now arrived, and although there was a
moon, the fast-rising mist from the swamps and river mingling with the
smoke of the guns, so dimmed her light that objects could be discerned
only a short distance, save the watch-fires of the enemy, which burned
brightly through the gloom. Guided by these, Coffee continued to
advance, when suddenly he was met by a sharp fire. The enemy, retiring
before the shot of the Caroline, had left the bank of the river, not
dreaming of a foe in their rear. Coffee was taken by surprise; but
this brave commander had been in too many perilous scenes to be
disconcerted, and ordering the charge to be sounded, swept the field
before him.
Again and again the British rallied, only to be driven from their
position. At length they made a determined stand in a grove of orange
trees, behind a ditch which was lined with a fence. But the excited
troops charged boldly over the ditch, fence, and all, and lighting up
the orange grove with the fire of their guns, and awakening its echoes
with their loud huzzas, pressed fiercely after the astonished enemy,
and forced them back to the river. Here the latter turned at bay, and
for half an hour, maintained a determined fight. But being swept by
such close and destructive volleys, they at length clambered down the
levee, and turning it into a breastwork, repelled every attempt to
dislodge them.
In the mean time, Jackson had advanced along the river. Guided by the
guns of the Caroline, and the rockets of the enemy, that rose hissing
from the gloom, he pressed swiftly forward. He had given directions to
move by heads of companies, and as soon as they reached the enemy, to
deploy into line, which was to be extended till it joined that of Gen.
Coffee, thus forcing the British back upon the river, and keeping them
under the guns of the Caroline. But, instead of doing this, they
formed into line at the outset. The levee being wide where the march
commenced, no inconvenience was felt from this order; but, as it grew
narrower, the left wing was gradually forced in, and being a little in
advance, crowded and drove back the centre, creating confusion and
arresting its progress. The whole, however, continued to press
forward, and soon came upon the enemy, entrenched behind a deep ditch.
Jackson, perceiving the advantage of their position, ordered a charge
at once. The troops marched up to the edge of the ditch, poured one
destructive volley over, then leaped after. The British retired behind
another, and another, only to be again forced to retreat. At length,
Jackson halted; the enemy had withdrawn into the darkness, the
Caroline had almost ceased her fire, while but random volleys were
heard in the direction of Coffee's brigade. He knew not where to renew
the conflict, while the rapidly increasing fog shrouded everything
in still greater darkness and uncertainty. Finding, too, that his left
wing had got into inextricable confusion, and that a part of Coffee's
troops were in no better condition, he determined to withdraw.
While these things were passing on the banks of the Mississippi, and
gloom and uncertainty hung over New Orleans, our commissioners at
Ghent were wrapt in pleasant slumbers, for the next day was to witness
the signature of a treaty of peace between the two countries, when
the ravages of war should give place to the peaceful pursuits of
commerce.
Jackson had laid his plans with skill, and entertained no doubt of
success; and but for the fact that the Caroline commenced her fire a
little too early, and that the after false movement of his left wing
prevented the rapid advance of the centre, he no doubt would have
slain or captured nearly the whole three thousand opposed to him. But
night attacks are always subject to failure through mistakes caused by
the darkness, especially if the movements are at all complicated. A
sudden, heavy onset, overturning every thing before it--a single,
concentrated blow, like the fall of an avalanche--are best fitted for
the night.
Still, Jackson did not despair of success, and determined at daybreak
to renew the attack. But it was soon ascertained, from prisoners and
deserters, that by morning the enemy would be six thousand strong,
making a disparity against him he could not hope to overcome. He
therefore fell back to a deep ditch that stretched from the
Mississippi, across the entire levee, to the swamp. Behind this he
arrayed his troops, resolved, since nothing else could be done, to
make there a determined stand. In his unsuccessful assault, he had
lost, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, two hundred and forty men;
while the enemy had been weakened by nearly double that number.
Jackson's first plan having failed, all his hopes now rested on a
successful defence of his position. The gun-boats had been destroyed,
leaving the lakes open to the hostile fleet. All the passes to the
city had been guarded in vain. Through an unimportant and almost
unknown canal, the enemy had passed unmolested, and landed where
nothing but undisciplined troops lay between him and the city. Too
strong to be assailed, the British could now complete their
arrangements and array their strength at leisure. Undismayed, however,
and unshaken in his confidence, Jackson gathered his little band
behind this single ditch, and coolly surveyed his chances. He knew the
history and character of the troops opposed to him; he knew also how
uncertain untrained militia were in a close and hot engagement. Still
he resolved to try the issue in a great and desperate battle. No
sooner was this determination taken, than he set about increasing the
strength of his position with every means in his power. He deepened
and widened the ditch; and where it terminated in the swamp, cut down
the trees, thus extending the line still further in, to prevent being
outflanked. The gallant Coffee was placed here, who, with his noble
followers, day after day, and night after night, stood knee-deep in
the mud, and slept on the brush they piled together to keep them from
the water. Sluices were also opened in the levee, and the waters of
the Mississippi turned on the plain, covering it breast-deep. The
earth was piled still higher on the edge of the ditch; while cotton
bales were brought and covered over to increase the breadth and depth
of the breastwork.
With a will unyielding as fate itself, tireless energy, and a frame of
iron to match, Jackson no sooner set his heart on a great object, than
he toiled towards it with a resolution--nay, almost fierceness--that
amazed men.
Night and day the soldiers were kept at work, the sound of the spade
and pickaxe never ceased, while the constant rolling of wheels was
heard, as wagons and carts sped to and from the city. Jackson, with
his whole nature roused to the highest pitch of excitement, moved amid
this busy scene, its soul and centre. Impervious to fatigue, he worked
on when others sank to rest; and at midday and midnight, was seen
reviewing his troops, or traversing the trenches to cheer the
laborers; and for four days and nights scarcely took a moment's rest.
In addition to the breastwork he was rearing on the east bank, he
ordered General Morgan to take position on the right bank, opposite
his line, and fortify it. To prevent the ships from ascending the
river to co-operate with the army, he dispatched Major Reynolds to
obstruct and defend the pass of Barataria--the channel through which
they would in all probability attempt to approach.
In the mean time, the British were not idle. They had deepened the
canal through which they had effected a landing, and thus, assisted by
the high waters of the Mississippi, been able to bring up larger
boats, loaded with the heavy artillery.
On the third day, a battery was observed, erected opposite the
Caroline, which, after the good service she did in the night attack,
had floated to the opposite shore, where she continued to annoy the
enemy. Jackson knew her perilous position, but there had been no wind
sufficiently strong to enable her to stem the rapid current; and, on
the morning of the 27th, the battery opened on her with shells and
red-hot shot. She was soon in a blaze; and the crew, seeing the
attempt to save her useless, escaped to the shore. Soon after, she
blew up.
[Sidenote: Dec. 28.]
The next day, Sir Edward Packenham ordered an attack on the American
works. The columns advanced in beautiful order, and at the distance of
half a mile opened their batteries, and, with bombshells and
congreve-rockets, endeavored to send confusion among the American
militia. But the guns of the latter were admirably served, and told
with great effect on the exposed ranks of the enemy. The Louisiana
sloop of war, that lay opposite the American line, swung her broadside
so as to bear on the advancing columns, and raked them with such a
deadly fire that the assault was abandoned, and the army returned to
camp, with the loss of over a hundred men, while that of the Americans
was but seven killed and eight wounded. But among the slain of the
latter was Colonel Henderson of the Tennessee militia, a man deeply
lamented.
Events were now evidently approaching a crisis; and the anxiety and
interest deepened daily and hourly. To add to the weight which already
pressed the heart of Jackson, he was told that the legislature had
become frightened, and was discussing the propriety of surrendering
the city. He immediately sent a dispatch to Governor Clairborne,
ordering him to watch its proceedings, and the moment such a project
should be fairly formed, to place a guard at the door of the chamber,
and shut the members in. In his zeal and warm-hearted patriotism, or
through misconception of the order, the governor, making sure work of
it, turned the whole of them _out_ of doors. Just before the execution
of this high-handed measure, a committee of the legislature waited on
Jackson, to inquire what he designed to do if compelled to abandon his
position. "If," he replied, "I thought the hair of my head could
divine what I should do, I would cut it off forthwith. Go back with
this answer: say to your honorable body that if disaster does overtake
me, and the fate of war drives me from my line to the city, _that they
may expect to have a warm session_." To one who asked him afterwards
what he would have done in such an emergency, he said, "I would have
retreated to the city, _fired it_, and _fought the enemy amid the
surrounding flames_." A more heroic speech never fell from the lips of
a commander. New Orleans in flames and Jackson charging down its
blazing streets, would have been one of the most frightful exhibitions
furnished in the annals of the war.
[Sidenote: Jan. 1, 1815.]
The British, after the attack of the 28th, occupied their whole time
in landing heavier cannon. Having completed their arrangements, they
resolved to make another attempt on the American works. The New Year
opened with a heavy fog, which shrouded the whole plain and British
encampment from sight. But, from its mysterious bosom, ominous,
muffled sounds arose, which were distinctly heard in every part of the
American line, and the troops stood to arms. At length, as the sun
gathered strength, the fog lifted and parted--dimly revealing the
whole plain. No sooner did the enemy, who had advanced their batteries
within six hundred yards of the American intrenchments, see the long,
black line of the latter, stretching through the haze, than a
tremendous burst of artillery shook the solid levee on which it
stood. A flight of Congreve rockets followed, crossing and recrossing
the heavens in every direction, and weaving a fiery net-work over the
heads of the astonished but undaunted Americans. The first heavy
explosion sent Jackson to the lines; and luckily for him it did; for
the British having been shown by a spy the house which he occupied,
they directed a battery upon it, and in a few minutes it was riddled
with balls. The American artillery replied, and it was a constant roar
of cannon till noon, when most of the English batteries being beaten
down or damaged, they ceased their fire. One, near the river,
continued to play on the American works till three o'clock, when it
also became silent, and the enemy, baffled at every point, retired
sullenly to his camp.
The two armies, each expecting reinforcements, now rested for a week
from decisive hostilities. In the mean time, Jackson continued to
strengthen his works and discipline his men. A Frenchman having come
to him to complain of damage done to his property, the latter replied
that, as he was a man of property, he knew of no one who had a better
right to defend it, and placing a musket in his hands, ordered him
into the ranks.
During this week of comparative repose, New Orleans and the two
hostile camps presented a spectacle of the most thrilling interest.
The British army lay in full view of the American lines, their white
tents looking, amid the surrounding water, like clouds of sail resting
on the bosom of the river. At intervals were heard the sharp and
rattling volleys of the pickets of the two armies, as they came in
collision, while the morning and evening gun sent their stern
challenge over the plain. There was marching and countermarching,
strains of martial music, and all the confused sounds of a camp, when
preparations are making for a grand and decisive blow. To the farmers,
merchants, mechanics, and youths, who lay within the American
intrenchments, the scene and the thoughts it awakened were new. Behind
them stood their homes; before them, the veterans of Spain, whom, in a
few days, they were to meet in final combat.
In the city, the excitement kept increasing; but after the first
battle, the patriotism of the population received a new impulse. In
the night attack many of the troops had lost all their clothing except
that which they wore on their backs, and hence soon began to suffer.
No sooner was this known to the ladies than their fair hands were in
motion; and in a short time the wants of the soldiers were supplied.
In the mean time the long-expected Kentucky troops, upwards of two
thousand strong, arrived. Courier after courier had been sent to hurry
their march; and the last day had been one of incredible toil and
speed. Only five hundred of them, however, had muskets; the rest were
armed with fowling-pieces, and such weapons as they could lay hands
on. Nor were there any means of supplying them, so that the accession
of strength was comparatively trifling. Gen. Lambert, too, had
reinforced the British with several thousand veteran troops.
A canal in the mean time had been widened through the levee, by which
boats were transported to the Mississippi for that portion of the army
which was destined to act against the fortifications on the west bank,
commanded by General Morgan. A long siege was out of the question, and
now nothing remained to be done but to advance at once to the assault
of the American intrenchments, or abandon the expedition. The latter
alternative was not to be contemplated; and, on the night of the 7th,
Jackson, surveying the encampment through his glass, discovered
unmistakeable evidence that the enemy was meditating an important
movement. The camp was in commotion; the boats which had been dragged
through the canal, and now lay moored to the levee, were being loaded
with artillery and munitions of war, and every thing betokened a hot
to-morrow. Coffee still held the swamp on the left; Carroll, with his
Tennesseans, the centre; while Jackson, with the regulars under him,
commanded in person the right, resting on the river. Behind Carroll
were placed the Kentuckians, under General Adair--in all, less than
four thousand effective men. [Sidenote: Jan. 8.] This was the position
of affairs as the Sabbath morning of the 8th of January began to dawn.
The light had scarcely streaked the east, when the inhabitants of New
Orleans were startled from their slumbers by an explosion of cannon
that shook the city. The battle had opened. Under cover of the night,
heavy batteries had been erected within eight hundred yards of the
American intrenchments, and, the moment the fog lifted above them,
they opened their fire. Directly after, a rocket, rising through the
mist near the swamp, and another answering it from the shore,
announced that all was ready. The next moment, two columns, each four
or five thousand strong--one moving straight on Carrol's position, the
other against the right of the intrenchments--swept steadily and
swiftly across the plain. Three thrilling cheers rose over the dark
intrenchments at the sight, and then all was still again.
The levee here was contracted to four hundred yards in width, and as
the columns, sixty or seventy deep, crowded over this avenue, every
cannon on the breastwork was trained upon them by Baratarian, French
and American engineers, and the moment they came within range, a
murderous fire opened. Frightful gaps were made in the ranks at every
discharge, which were closed by living men only the next moment to be
re-opened.
The Americans stood with their hands clenched around their muskets and
rifles, gazing with astonishment on this new, unwonted spectacle. The
calm and steady advance under such an incessant and crushing fire,
carried with it the prestige of victory. As they approached the ditch,
the columns swiftly, yet beautifully deployed, and under the cover of
blazing bombs and rockets, that filled the air in every direction, and
stooped hissing over the American works, pressed forward with loud
cheers, to the assault. Nothing but cannon had spoken till then from
that low breastwork; but as those two doomed columns reached the
farthest brink of the ditch, the word "Fire!" ran along the American
line--the next moment the intrenchments were in a blaze. It was a
solid sheet of flame rolling on the foe. Stunned by the tremendous and
deadly volleys, the front ranks stopped and sunk in their footsteps,
like snow when it meets the stream. But high over the thunder of
cannon were heard the words of command, and drums beating the charge;
and still bravely breasting the fiery sleet, the ranks pressed
forward, but only to melt away on the brink of that fatal ditch.
Jackson, with flashing eye and flushed brow, rode slowly along the
lines, cheering the men, and issuing his orders, followed by loud
huzzas as he passed. From the effect of the American volleys, he
knew, if the troops stood firm, the day was his own, and with stirring
appeals and confident words he roused them to the same enthusiasm
which animated his breast and beamed from his face. The soldiers of
Gen. Adair, stationed in the rear of Carrol, loaded for those in
front, so that there was no cessation to the fire. It was a constant
flash and peal along the whole line. Every man was a marksman, every
shot told, and no troops in the world could long withstand such a
destructive fire. The front of battle, torn and rent, wavered to and
fro on the plain, when Packenham galloped up, and riding bravely
through the shaking ranks, for a moment restored order. The next
moment he reeled from his saddle mortally wounded. Generals Gibbs and
Keane, while nobly struggling to rally the men, were also shot down,
and the maddened columns turned and fled. Lambert, hastening up with
the reserve, met the fugitives, and endeavored, but in vain, to arrest
the flight. They never halted till they reached a ditch four hundred
yards distant, into which they flung themselves to escape the
scourging fire that pursued them. Here he at last rallied them to
another charge. The bleeding column, strengthened by the reserve,
again advanced sternly but hopelessly, into the deadly fire, and
attempted to deploy. It was a last vain effort--it was like charging
down the mouth of a volcano, and the troops again broke and fled,
smote at every step by the batteries.
Col. Kennie led the attack against the redoubt on the right, and
succeeded in entering, but found there his grave. Driven forth, the
troops sought safety in flight; but the fire that pursued them was too
fatal, and they threw themselves into a ditch, where they lay
sheltered till night, and then stole away under cover of the darkness.
The ground in front of the American intrenchments presented a
frightful spectacle. It was red with the blood of men. The space was
so narrow along which the enemy had advanced, that the dead literally
cumbered the field.
The sun of that Sabbath morning rose in blood, and before he had
advanced an hour on his course, a multitude of souls "unhouseled,
unanneled," had passed to the stillness of eternity. New Orleans never
before witnessed such a Sabbath morning. Anxiety and fear sat on every
countenance. The road towards the American encampment was lined with
trembling listeners, and tearful eyes were bent on the distance to
catch the first sight of the retreating army. But when the thunder and
tumult ceased, and word was brought that the Americans still held the
intrenchments, and that the British had retreated in confusion, there
went up a long, glad shout--the bells of the churches rang out a
joyous peal, and hope and confidence revived in every bosom.
The attack on the right bank of the river had been successful, and but
for the terrible havoc on the left shore, this stroke of good fortune
might have changed the results of the day. The fort, from which Gen.
Morgan had fled, commanded the interior of Jackson's entrenchments,
and a fire opened from it would soon have shaken the steadiness of his
troops. But Col. Thornton, who had captured it, seeing the complete
overthrow of the main army, soon after abandoned it.
The Americans, with that noble-hearted generosity which had
distinguished them on every battle-field, hurried forth soon as the
firing had ceased, to succor the wounded, who they knew had designed
to riot amid their own peaceful dwellings. "Beauty and booty," was the
watchword in an orderly-book found on the battle-field; and though
there is not sufficient reason to believe that the city would have
been given over to rapine and lust, yet no doubt great excesses would
have been tolerated. The recent conduct of the English troops on the
Atlantic coast, where no such resistance had been offered to
exasperate them, furnished grounds for the gravest fears.
The British in this attack outnumbered the Americans more than three
to one, and yet the loss on the part of the latter was only
_thirteen_ killed and wounded--seventy-one, all told, both sides of
the river--while that of the former was nearly two thousand, a
disparity unparalleled in the annals of war.
The British were allowed to retreat unmolested to their ships, and the
sails of that proud fleet, whose approach had sent such consternation
through the hearts of the inhabitants, were seen lessening in the
horizon with feelings of unspeakable joy and triumph. All danger had
now passed away, and Jackson made his triumphal entry into the city.
The bells were rung, maidens dressed in white, strewed flowers in his
path, the heavens echoed with acclamations, and blessings unnumbered
were poured on his head.
But as there had been foes and traitors to the American cause from the
first appearance of the British fleet, so there were those now who
stirred up strife, and by anonymous articles published in one of the
city papers, endeavored to sow dissensions among the troops. It would,
no doubt, have been better for Jackson, in the fulness of his triumph,
and in the plenitude of his power, to have overlooked this. But these
very men he knew had acted as spies while the enemy lay before his
entrenchments, causing him innumerable vexations, and endangering the
cause of the country, and he determined as martial law had not yet
been repealed, to seize the offenders. He demanded of the editor the
name of the writer of a certain article, who proved to be a member of
the legislature. He then applied to Judge Hall for a writ of habeas
corpus, which was granted, and the recreant statesman was thrown into
prison. Soon after, martial law being removed, Judge Hall issued an
attachment against Jackson for contempt of court, and he was brought
before him to answer interrogatories. This he refused to do, and asked
for the sentence. The judge, still smarting under the remembrance of
his former arrest by Jackson, fined him a thousand dollars. A burst of
indignation followed this sentence, and as the latter turned to enter
his carriage, the crowd around seized it, and dragged it home with
shouts. The fine was paid immediately; but in a few hours the outraged
citizens refunded the sum to the general. He, however, refused it,
requesting it to be appropriated to a charitable institution. Judge
Hall by this act secured for himself the fame of the man who, to
figure in history, fired the temple of Delphos.
The arbitrary manner in which Jackson disposed of the State
legislature and judges of the court, became afterwards the subject of
much discussion, and during his political life the ground of heavy
accusations. If the question be respecting the _manner_ in which he
assumed arbitrary power, it is not worth discussing. But if, on the
other hand, the assumption of it at all is condemned, then the whole
thing turns on the necessities of the case, and whether that use was
made of it which the general good and not personal feelings required.
That it was necessary, no one can doubt. He had a right, also, as
commander-in-chief of the army in that section, to whom the defence of
the southern frontier had been intrusted, to force the civil power
into obedience to the orders of the general government. He was to
defend and save New Orleans, and if the civil authority proved
treacherous or weak, it was his duty to see that it did not act
against him while plainly in the path of his duty. New Orleans so
considered it; and six years after, the corporation appropriated fifty
thousand dollars to the erection of a marble statue of him in the
city. Congress thought so, when, thirty years after, it voted the
repayment of the fine, with interest, from the date it was inflicted,
and notwithstanding the whole matter was made a party question, it
will not stand as such in history.
Jackson remained in New Orleans till March, when he was relieved by
General Gaines. On taking leave of his troops, who, by their cheerful
endurance of hardships and their bravery, had become endeared to him,
he issued an address full of encomiums on their conduct, and
expressions of love for their character. He concluded by saying,
"Farewell, fellow--soldiers! The expression of your General's thanks
is feeble; but the gratitude of a country of freemen is yours--yours
the applause of an admiring world." What a contrast does this man,
covered with the laurels of his two recent campaigns, present to the
captive boy in the revolutionary struggle whose hand was brutally
gashed by a subordinate British officer, because he refused to black
his boots! This world has changes. The lad with his eye to the
knot-hole at Camden watching the defeat of the American army with
anguish, and the hero gazing proudly on the flying columns of the
veteran troops of the British empire, are the same in soul--but how
different in position! They say, "Time sets all things even." In
Jackson's case, the wrongs done to his family by an oppressive nation,
and the outrages he himself had received, were terribly avenged.
[Sidenote: Feb. 11.]
At length the joyful tidings of peace reached our shores. The British
sloop of war Favorite, chosen for her name, arrived at New York under
a flag of truce, bearing an American and British messenger, with the
treaty already ratified on the part of England. The unexpected news
acted like an electrical shock on the city. It was late on Saturday
night when the announcement was made, but in an incredible short space
of time the whole city was in an uproar. That blessed word PEACE
passed tremulously from lip to lip, and as if borne on the viewless
air, was soon repeated in every dwelling. In a few minutes the
streets were black with the excited, heaving multitudes, whose frantic
shouts rolled like the roar of the sea through the city. In every
direction bonfires were kindled, and as flash after flash leaped forth
to the clouds, the deafening acclamations that followed, attested the
unbounded joy of the people. Expresses were immediately hurried off
north and south, and as the swift riders swept meteor-like through
village after village, shouting "PEACE" as they sped on, the
inhabitants sallied forth to hail the glad tidings with shouts. All
day Sunday that electrical word "PEACE" passed like an angel of mercy
over the towns and hamlets between New York and Boston. It swept like
a sudden breeze through the congregations gathered for worship in the
house of God. It imparted new fervor to the minister at the altar, and
swelled the hymn of thanksgiving from tearful worshippers to its
loudest, gladdest note. "PEACE," like a dove folded its wings on the
thresholds of thousands of homes that night, turning the wintry
fire-side into a scene of unbounded thankfulness and joy.
Although news had never been carried over the country with such
rapidity since the battle of Lexington and Concord, it did not reach
Boston till Monday morning. The bells were at once set ringing, but
their clamorous tongues were well nigh silenced by the louder
rejoicings of the people. Messengers were immediately dispatched in
every direction, sending the glad tidings on. Men forgot their
employments--politicians their animosities in the general
congratulation. The sea ports were suddenly gay with flags and
streamers, and the song of the sailor blended with the sound of the
hammer and the hum and stir of commerce. Men forgot to ask on what
terms peace had been obtained--the joy at its unexpected announcement
obliterated for the time all other thoughts and considerations.
At Washington the pleasure was more subdued, for the politicians there
knew that after the first enthusiasm had subsided every one would ask
what were the terms of the treaty.
But although the administration had provoked Fortune beyond all
forbearance, she seemed resolved not to desert it, and brought, nearly
at the same time, the news of the victory of New Orleans, to solace
the national pride for an indefinite and unsatisfactory treaty.
The delegates from the Hartford Convention arrived in Washington just
in time to hear the confirmation of the victory and the peace, and
without delivering their message, stole quietly back to New England,
lighted by illuminated cities and towns, and stunned by acclamations,
on their way. Their enemies were too full of happiness to attack them,
still the National Advocate of New York, edited by Mr. Wheaton, could
not refrain from indulging in a little pleasantry at their expense,
and inserted an advertisement: "Missing--three well-looking,
respectable men, who appeared to be travelling towards Washington, and
suddenly disappeared from Gadzby's hotel, Baltimore, on Monday evening
last, and have not since been heard from. They were observed to be
very melancholic on hearing the news of peace, and one of them was
heard to say, '_Poor Caleb Strong_,' &c. "Whoever will give any
information of these unfortunate, tristful gentlemen to the Hartford
Convention, will confer a favor on humanity." The National
Intelligencer copied it, stating that those gentlemen had been seen in
Washington, but their business was not known. One of them, however,
was heard to groan, "_Othello's occupation's gone_."
But after the first excitement passed away, men began to inquire in
what way, and on what conditions, the government had delivered the
country from the evils of war, and crowned it with the blessings of
peace.
We had apparently gained nothing. Our quarrel rested mainly on two
points--first, the right of blockade as claimed and exercised under
the orders in Council, and the right of impressment, as practiced on
the high seas; yet no limits had been prescribed to the former, and
no guarantees given against the latter. These great points of dispute
were left untouched, and by the treaty the two countries stood
precisely as they did at the commencement of the war; all (conquered
territory on either side was to be restored) with the exception that
for the surrender of a useless right--the navigation of the
Mississippi--England deprived us of the valuable privilege heretofore
conceded, of catching and curing fish on the coast of the Gulf of St.
Lawrence. The title to the islands in the Passamaquoddy bay--the exact
course of the boundary line running from the Atlantic coast to the
river St. Lawrence--the line thence to the Lake of the Woods--were to
be referred to three separate commissions, and in case of their
disagreement, to some friendly power for final adjustment. The
question of fisheries in the seas bordering on the British provinces,
and the boundary line west of the Lake of the Woods were left without
any provision for their settlement.
One would naturally think that a treaty which in its stipulations thus
silently passed over the very questions in dispute, and for which so
much valiant blood had been shed and such a loss of life and treasure
endured, would have been met with open condemnation, or at least with
sullen acquiescence. On the contrary, however, its ratification was
signalized by public rejoicings, and the most extravagant
manifestations of delight. The astonishing victory at New Orleans
required us to be generous, and a nation which had thus vindicated its
rights on sea and land, could afford to drop an unpleasant subject
just where the discussion had begun. Such seemed to be the general
feeling. At first sight, this settlement of the difficulties between
the two countries appeared contemptible. Abstractly considered it was,
and if we had been a weak nation, sinking into degeneracy, it would
have proved so.
But in judging of it we must remember that treaty stipulations in
continental diplomacy, like flags of truce in Mexico, depend almost
entirely on circumstances whether they are regarded or not, and hence
the _circumstances_ are more important than written stipulation.
European treaties, like European diplomacy, have in the past, served
only to illustrate the duplicity and faithlessness of monarchs. The
question is, how events in their progress have settled the
difficulties, as _fate_ settles them, and not as commissioners.
Now it was evident, both to the English and American commissioners,
that articles on neutral rights and the impressment of seamen, were
useless. Our navy and privateers had disposed of those questions, for
ever. Our broadsides furnished better guaranties than strips of
parchment, adorned with impressions of regal seals.
It was the fact that those two great causes of hostility, violation of
neutral rights and impressment of seamen, were practically and
permanently disposed of, which reconciled the nation to their omission
in the treaty. Our people pay no attention to forms, only so far as
they sanction their just claims. In this view, the acquiescence in the
treaty, instead of exhibiting humility and fear on our part, indicate
quite the reverse. Nothing can be more erroneous than to suppose that
because those rights, for the protection of which we had gone to war,
were not mentioned in the treaty, we therefore had concluded to waive
them. On the contrary, we consented to leave them unnoticed, _because_
we knew we had _obtained_ them forever. No one in England or the
United States doubted that these were definitely settled, and those
who sneeringly ask "what we gained by the war?" make the letter
equivalent to the spirit, a form more important than a fact. The
simple truth is, we got what we fought for, and it exhibits a narrow
spirit to say, that because it was not engrossed on parchment it
amounted virtually to nothing.