Chapter XI

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.