Battle Of N.O. Not Over For Marine Submitted by N.O.V.A. July 2005 Times Picayune 11-6-1998 ************************************************* Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ************************************************ No doubt Marine Corps Maj. Daniel Carmick thought he deserved a better final resting place when, on Nov. 6, 1816, he died from wounds suffered almost two years earlier in the Battle of New Orleans. After all, Carmick once commanded the Marines aboard the famed USS Constitution, and was instrumental in choosing the site of the corps' headquarters in Washington. On the day he was wounded, Carmick was the second-highest ranking officer in the young Marine Corps, and was leading soldiers put under his command by Old Hickory himself, Andrew Jackson. But for 182 years, Carmick has occupied a forlorn plot in St. Louis No. 2 cemetery on North Claiborne Avenue. His resting spot is in the shadow of the elevated interstate and enveloped by the powerful smell from the nearby factory of Paul Piazza & Sons, shrimp purveyors since 1892. And, in perhaps the crowning indignity to any man, Carmick takes second billing on the tombstone to his mother-in-law, Charlotte O'Brien. "It is in the wrong place," said George Jones, the self-appointed curator of the grave site. "This isn't decent." That might change: A fledgling movement wants Carmick's remains moved to Chalmette National Historical Park. But in the meantime, Jones and Louisiana Department of Labor Judge John Grout, a member of the Society of the War of 1812, are doing what they can to ensure this forgotten hero of New Orleans military lore gets a measure of respect from the modern world. In a ceremony beginning today at 9:30 a.m., wreaths will be laid at Carmick's tomb by military, state and city officials. Grout, who organized the event, said similar ceremonies took place periodically until 1987, when they trailed off. "We're just reviving a tradition here," he said. Carmick's contribution to his fledgling nation has been largely obscured by the legacy of Jackson, but Grout argues it was significant. Although most people consider the Battle of New Orleans a lone, set-piece engagement, it was in fact a series of running battles that included early guerrilla tactics, Grout said. By launching small raids, often at night, between Dec. 23, 1814, and the showdown on Jan. 8, 1815, Jackson managed to spook the superior British forces into idly waiting on the Mississippi River for reinforcements. Carmick was a gung-ho participant in those raids. "In doing so, he managed to buy Jackson the one thing he needed most: time," Grout said. On Dec. 28, 1814, Carmick was leading a contingent of Plauche's Battalion of Orleans Volunteers at the Chalmette battlefield. "He was out there trooping the line, so to speak, telling everyone they would be fine, when he gets hit by a rocket," Grout said. "I mean, who would have expected it? Not the sort of thing then you considered an anti-personnel weapon." His charger was killed, but Carmick quickly mounted another horse. "He had some spunk about him," Grout says admiringly. Jones likes to catalog Carmick's wounds. "He lost his thumb and part of his hand, and that British rocket hit him right here," Jones said, pressing a finger to a visitor's forehead. Carmick missed the Jan. 8 climax, but, a leatherneck to the bone, hung on for 23 months before dying on Nov. 6, 1816. His wife, the New Orleans belle Margaret Cowperthwait, took her grief to Paris, where she died a widow in 1869. The tombstone does not say when the couple were betrothed, but if its other biographical information is reliable, Cowperthwait was only 20 when her husband was mortally wounded. "That's not that unusual," Grout said. "Remember that in those days women were pledged. It's kind of funny - you know the old saying, 'If you marry a New Orleans woman, you'll never leave?' Well, the poor bastard never did leave New Orleans, although that was for other reasons." It would seem that Grout and Jones are Carmick's only friends. Grout, a former Marine, notes that an important figure in corps' history lies neglected not far from the Dauphine Street headquarters of the Marine Corps reserves. Recognition is coming slowly, he said, as local Marine leaders "realize they've got a genuine hero buried right here." Jones, who retired after a career as a laborer at the Chalmette battlefield, has made the upkeep of Carmick's grave a solitary crusade for 13 years. He has done his job well. Although vandals have worked over St. Louis No.2, and several tombs are now just piles of bricks, Carmick's white marble obelisk gleams. On a recent October day, Jones lovingly closed the intact wrought iron gate with a thin wire. Today's ceremony is just the beginning of rebuilding Carmick's legacy, he vowed. "I'm going to put him in for the Congressional Medal of Honor," he said quietly. "I tell you, I'm going to do it."