The Battle of New Orleans: War of 1812 - 8 Jan 1815

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BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS - Southwest Louisiana Biographical and Historical, Note V., pp. 349-404.
Edited by William Henry Perrin.  Published in 1891.

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BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS.

Few events in the history of Louisiana are of more vital importance to its citizens than the
battle of New Orleans, of January 8, 1815.  Space, however, can not be devoted to all the
details preliminary to the great battle, but the most that can he given are a few extracts from
Walker's History, to the most important points, in that, up to that time, the greatest battle
ever fought on the American Continent. The first extract describes the battle of the 23d of
December, 1814:

The intruders disappeared from view, and solitude again resumed its sway over the broad field
in which the British were bivouacked. The soldiers repaired to their agreeable repast and
slumbers. Darkness began to gather over the camp. The sentinels were doubled, and the officers
walked the rounds with restless anxiety. But the thoughtless and careless men, intent only on
present comfort and enjoyment, trimmed their fires, so as to give cheerfulness to the scene,
and, reproducing the remnants of their midday feast, began to make good use of their kettles -
and pans, in preparation for a comfortable supper. Many, too exhausted to eat, lay down to
sleep. They were not, however, without anxiety, and for better security their arms were kept
within reach, ready for instant use. About seven o'clock, the attention of several officers was
given to a vessel which was stealing slowly down the river. Then from the bold and careless
manner in which she approached their camp, many of the British thought that she was one of
their own cruisers, which had passed the forts, and, after proceeding a short distance up
stream to observe the enemy, had now arrived most opportunely to cover their left flank in
their advance upon the city.  They hailed her - no answer was returned. Several muskets were
fired, of which she took not the slightest notice.

With amazing audacity the men on board were seen quietly fastening the sails, and the vessel
continued to sheer in close ashore, swinging her starboard right abreast of the camp. Then her
anchor was let loose - a slight movement was observed on board - lighted matches were discerned
through the darkness, and in the stillness of the night, and of a spectacle, which by its
mysterious character had made the British speechless with astonishment, a loud voice was heard
from the ship, exclaiming, "Give this for the honor of America." The words were followed by a
simultaneous flash from a score of cannon and firearms, and a perfect tornado of grape shot and
musket balls, which swept the levee and the camp in the field, killing and wounding many men,
some of whom were asleep when struck, and scattering their fire and camp utensils in every
direction. The havoc was more terrible from its suddenness. For some minutes the British were
struck with consternation. Disorder prevailed through the camp. One of the officers says "they
were driven into the most dire confusion which cause a ten-fold panic. The scene beggared all
description. No mob could be in a more utter state of disorganization." They were mowed down by
an unseen and unknown enemy. Nor did the Carolina - for it was that vessel, with Commander
Patterson, Captain Henley and efficient crew, which had dropped down inapportunely on the
British camp - give them much time to collect their senses. She continued her fire with amazing
rapidity and accuracy, embracing in range the whole area of the field, in which the British
soldiers ran wildly to and fro, in pursuit of shelter. The rocketers on the levee made a feeble
effort to bring their weapons to bear upon the schooner, but they produced no effect, and only
elicited the jeering laughter of the sailors on board the Carolina. Finally the intrepid
Thornton came to the rescue of his affrighted men, and ordered them to leave the open fields
and shelter themselves under the levee. Never was an order more quickly obeyed. Reaching the
levee, the men lay down at full length, listening in painful silence to the pattering of grape
shot in their camp, and the shrieks of the wounded in the field, who, unable to gain cover,
were knocked and tossed about like logs of wood by the remorseless schooner.

It was now so dark that the men could not discover an object of any size, more than a few feet
off. The Carolina slackened her fire and the prostrate British began to breathe freer, when a
new cause of alarm arose. It was the firing at their outposts. First, there were a few isolated
reports, evidently of the sentinel. Then came volleys of the pickets. These increased every
second and came from every part of the field. Finally, a blaze of fire seemed to encircle the
camp. It was evident they were surrounded. Here was apparent confirmation of the wisdom of
Keane's conduct. There must be at least twelve thousand men to justify such an attack upon a
camp of Peninsula veterans, to cover and outflank so large a front. But there was no time for
reflection or speculation. They were surrounded and must fight or yield. The latter was never
thought of.  With his usual boldness, Thornton ordered the Eighty-fifth and Ninety-fifth to
move from under the levee and rush to the support of the pickets, whilst the Fourth, stealing
under cover of the levee, formed on the right bank of Villere's Canal, in front of the
headquarters, so as to act as a reserve and protect their communications with the lake. Major
Gubbins led the Eighty-fifth on the right, and Major Mitchell the Ninety-fifth on the left,
whilst Colonel Thornton directed the movements of the whole force. They were soon engaged in
one of the fiercest, most severely, and evenly contested night combats that ever occurred. To
comprehend the order of the battle, we must follow the movements of the attacking party.

Marching his men to Rodriguez Canal, about two miles from the British camp, Jackson made this
ditch, running perpendicularly from the river to the swamp, the base of his operations. Coffee,
with eight hundred men, including his mounted gunmen, Hinds' dragoons, and Beale's rifles, was
dispatched to the left, with orders to advance along the edge of the swamps until he reached
the boundary line between Lacoste's and Laronde's; and dismounting his men, then to leave his
horses and push boldly forward, so as to gain the enemy is right, turn his position, break up
his communications and destroy him. Waiting for a few minutes, until he could hear the
broadside of the Carolina, which was to be the signal for the commencement of the battle, and
when these joyful notes, a little before the appointed hour, fell upon his ear, delaying for a
few minutes longer, until they could produce their full effect upon the enemy, Jackson gave
orders to advance.

The right division, consisting of the regulars, the two battalions of volunteers, the artillery
and the marines - in all 1147 muskets - and two six-pounders, and led by Jackson himself,
advanced by heads of companies as near the river as possible. The battle was opened by a
company of the Seventh, under Lieutenant McClelland, which, however, was led by that gallant
staff officer, Col. Pyatt. This company being on the extreme right, filing through the gate of
Laronde's plantation, advanced as far as the boundary of Lacoste's, when it was received with a
brisk discharge from one of the outposts of the enemy established near the road, and lying
under the cover of a fence. This outpost consisted of eighty men of the ninety-fifth, commanded
by Capt. Hallem. Their resistance to a single company of the seventh infantry has been
exaggerated by one of the British historians into "an achievement to which neither ancient nor
modern history can produce a parallel," as Capt. Hallem says this veracious writer, "was
opposed to Jackson's whole army, three thousand strong." The truth is the gallant Capt. Hallem
and his eighty men were posted in a ditch and behind a fence, where he was attacked by the
right company of the seventh, calling to them to come out and figfit like men in the open
ground. Pyatt attacked them with great vigor, and forced them to retire, occupying the ground
they had abandoned.

The British, however, being reinforced, returned to regain their lost position and opened a
heavy fire upon Pyatt's detachment, who as briskly replied. For some minutes the firing was
very severe and destructive, the combatants being, but a few yards apart. Pyatt received a
bullet in the leg. McClelland and a sergeant were killed, and several of the men were wounded.
Meantime the artillery advanced up the road, covered by the marines under Lieutenant Bellevue,
and began to blaze away at the enemy's outpost with great vigor. Collecting a strong force the
British made a bold push for the guns. Their heavy fire caused a recoil of the marines, and
some of the horses being wounded one of the pieces was upset in the ditch. Jackson and his
staff being near rode swiftly to the point of danger, and, indifferent to the shower of bullets
which whistled around him, Jackson called out: "Save the guns, my boys, at every sacrifice!"
Aided by Captain Butler and Captain Chotard of his staff, he succeeded in repairing the
momentary disorder and rallying the marines, and the company of the Seventh soon had the guns
safely protected.

These events all transpired in a few minutes; meantime the other companies of the Seventh
advanced briskly, and, forming in battalion appuye' on the river, opened a brisk fire on the
British, who in a like manner had strengthened their lines. The Forty-fourth, forming on the
left of the Seventh, soon joined in the fire. The engagement now became general and the fire
was kept up on both sides with great steadiness.  Both lines extended perpendicular from the
river some distance out, being embraced within an old levee and the new levee. In such a state
of affairs both became liable to be outflanked and turned, the British on the right and the
Americans on the left. The British line was rapidly extending beyond that of the American, and
a strong force had begun to file off behind the old levee toward the rear of the left of the
Forty-fourth, and that regiment was compelled to oblique to the left, being forced back when
Plauche' and D'Aquin fortunately came into line, and forming under a severe fire at pistol shot
advanced in close column.

Just as Plauche's battalion was wheeling into line on the left of the Forty-fourth, some of his
platoons on the right, lapping those of the Forty-fourth, mistook them for the enemy and fired
a volley at them, which wounded several men. Plauche' quickly repaired the unfortunate error,
and lead his battalion into the very face of the enemy, who gave way rapidly. D'Aquin's
battalion followed Plauche', and the two very soon reinstated the Forty-fourth in its
rectilinear position; then opened a heavy fire upon the enemy, which caused them to give way
still more.  Seeing the effect of his fire, the men called the charge bayonets, and Plauche'
was about to give the order for the charge when Col. Ross, who bad command of the volunteer
battalions, countermanded the order and directed him to hold his position. This was for the
Americans the most unfortunate event of the affair, as was shown afterward when the situation
of the British became known. If the charge had been made, a large portion of the British army,
including a whole regiment would have been cpt off from the rest, and compelled to surrender.
Finally, however, the British, being so vigorously pressed, deemed it prudent to retire and
resume their original position on the boundary line of Lacoste' and Villere's. In this movement
they were favored by a heavy fog, which arose about half past eight o'clock.

So much for the operation on the right. Meantime Coffee was not idle. Dismounting his men at
the ditch, which forms the boundary line of Laronde and Lacoste, and leaving one hundred men in
charge of the horses, he advanced rapidly with Beale's rifles on the left in extended order,
skirting the swamp. When he had reached the boundary line of Villeres, and believed that he had
gained the enemy's right, he wheeled his column to the right and advanced with front face to
the river. The rifles on the left spread themselves over Villere's, and penetrated the very
center of the British camp - killing many of the enemy and taking several prisoners.

While advancing, Coffee ordered his men to be sure of their mark in firing, not to lose a shot,
and to fire at short distance. They were soon engaged with the outposts, and the quick-sighted
Tennesseeans had picked off several sentinels before their approach was known, so noiseless and
wily did they move. Soon, however, the British Eighty-Fifth rushed forward to meet them, and
the two lines became warmly engaged. Both sides were remarkable for their sharp shooting; the
Eighty-Fifth were light infantry and had long enjoyed a high reputation for the efficient
manner in which they handled their guns. But the Tennesseeans were more than a match for them.
They fired faster and with greater accuracy. The British suffered severely, losing several
officers, among others Major Harris, the Brigade Major.

For some time the battle waged fiercely in this part of the field, but without much order or
system. It was a war of detachments and duels. The officers would hastily collect small bodies
of men as they could find them, and, starting out in pursuit of a hostile detachment, would
rush at them and soon be mingled in a hand-to-hand conflict. Owing to the darkness friends
could not be distinguished from foes, and not a few fell by the bullets of their companions and
fellow soldiers. Approaching within a few yards of one another, they would shout some vague
name or call, beating, as it were, around the bush, to ascertain who their neighbors were
before delivering fire. The maneuvers, as each party should disguise his character to get
nearer his enemies. Many lamentable mistakes were made on both sides, by which several, brave
men lost their lives.

Among Lacoste's negro cabins several parties of the British rifles were posted, who kept up a
running fire on Coffee's right companies.

The Tennesseeans, however, recognizing the sharp crack of the rifle, gave these parties the
preference and directed their particular attention to them.

It required severe fighting to dislodge the rifles; but they were soon beaten with their own
weapons. The short rifle of the English service was not equal to the long and deadly instrument
of the western hunter and Indian fighter.  For many years after the huts of Lacoste bore
striking proofs of the accuracy of the aim of the Tennesseeans and of the severity of the
combat in that part of the field. Concealing themselves behind the huts, the British waited
until the Tennesseans got into the midst of them. Then they rushed forward and engaged with
them hand to hand. Neither party having bayonets they were forced to club their guns, and thus
many fine rifles where ruined. But the more cautious of the Tennesseeans preferred their long
knives and tomahawks to thus endangering that arm which is their chief reliance in war, their
inseparable companion in peace. Many a British soldier who was found dead on the field, with
heavy gashes on his forehead. or deep stabs in his bosom, and who was buried under the
conviction that he came to his death by that military and chivalric weapon, the sword, fell,
in fact, beneath those more barbarous instruments, which the Tennesseeans had learned from the
savages to wield with deadly skill - the tomahawk and hunting knife. After being driven from
the grove at Lacoste's the rifles fell back before Coffee's steady advances, rallying, however,
as they were joined by fresh reinforcements, and keeping up a continuous fire on the
Tennesseeans.

At last they gained the old levee not far from the road, and, preferring for a time the peril
of the Carolina's broadsides to the unerring rifles of the Tennesseeans, they took post behind
the levee on the river side. This position was deemed too strong by Coffee to be carried;
besides he did not care to expose his men to the unceasing fire of the Carolina. Accordingly he
sent a dispatch to Jackson acquainting him with his position, and received in return an order
to join the right division.

If the design of Plauche' of charging the already retreating line of the British had not been
prevented by Col. Ross the two divisions would have united, and thus the British left would be
inevitably cut off. But in the meantime the right column of Jackson, finding the fog too thick,
had fallen back to its original position, and Coffee following it at last took a position near
the old levee, where the battle had commenced, from which he kept up an irregular fire on the
British regulars and outposts. It was while moving in this direction Col. Mitchell, commanding
the British Ninety-fifth (an officer who had won great distinction in leading the storming
party at Ciudad Rodrigo and in other actions in the Peninsular war), advanced toward the
British right for the purpose of ascertaining the character of the men who were approaching. As
the Ninety-third Highlanders were expected every moment to reach camp, Major Mitchell was
strongly impressed with the belief that Coffee's men, who wore hunting shirts, which in the
dark were not unlike the Highland frock, were the men of the Ninety-third, and, greatly needing
their aid, he eagerly advanced, calling out, "Are those the Ninety-third?"

"Of course," shouted the Tennesseeans, who had no particular number.
Mitchell thereupon pushed boldly forward within a few feet of the men, when Captain Donaldson
stepped in front and, slapping the astonished Briton on the shoulder, called out, "You are my
prisoner," and requested the Major's sword. This request was enforced by half a dozen long
rifles wvhich covered his body. With infinite mortification the gallant major surrendered, and,
with several other prisoners, were borne off by the Tennesseeans. Though at the moment of his
capture, and subsequently, Major Mitchell was treated with the kindness and generosity due to a
gallant foe, he never recovered his good humor, and embraced every opportunity of exhibiting
his spleen and disgust. The oblique movement of Coffee's brigade to the right produced some
disasters which were sorely lamented by the Americans.

In the last charge of Coffee, just before he received the order to retire, the left of his
line, including two hundred Tennesseeans and Beal's Rifles, under Colonels Dyer and Gibson, got
separated from that portion which moved under Coffee's immediate command. The British
perceived the gap, and immediately pushed into it, forming a strong line of troops between
Coffee and Dyer. To this line Dyer hastened, trusting it was Coffee's. On approaching, they
were hailed by the British to stop and report who they were. Dyer and Gibson advanced and
called out that they were the Second Division of Tennesseeans. Observing that this answer was
not understood, he ordered his men to wheel and retire toward the swamp. As they were retiring,
the British opened a heavy fire upon them, and then charged. In the retreat Gibson stumbled and
fell, and a British soldier, more active than his companions, reached him before he could rise
and pinned him to the ground with his bayonet. Fortunately, the bayonet only pierced his flesh,
and Gibson, who was an active and powerful man, seized the musket, forcing it from his
assailant, knocked him down and then escaped to his companions.

Col. Dyer had retreated but fifty yards when his horse was shot and himself wounded, both
falling, he becoming entawrled under the animal. At this moment, when his capture or death
seemed inevitable, he had the presence of mind to order his men to halt and return the fire.
They did so, and the British were checked, and the colonel was enabled, with the aid of some of
his men, to release himself. Finally the whole party of Tennesseeans succeeded in reaching
Coffee. There was a portion of Dyer's cointry and which was not so fortunate. On the extreme
left of the Tennesseeans were Beale's Rifles, extending for some distance across Lacoste's and
into Villere's field. Fighting singly or in small squads, they had penetrated into the very
center of the British camp, and gave such annoyance to the enemy as to lead to the belief that
they composed the whole regiment. Whilst pressing forward the Rifles became separated into two
parties by the fence and the ditch of Lacoste's, and when Coffee moved toward the right, the
party of the Rifles on the extreme left did not observe the movement and followed it. The
consequence was that they were cut off by the British closing in between them and the first
division of the company. Finding themselves thus cut off the Rifles separated and endeavored to
escape by starting in different directions. One party of them retreated in the direction of the
swamp, and had nearly reached it when they observed a line of men advancing from the swamp
toward them. Deceived in the same manner in which Mithell had been, they concluded from the
dress of the men that they were Coffee's "Hunters" and eagerly pressed forward, calling out: 
"Where's the first division?"   "Here they are," was the reply, with a broad Scottish accent,
and the line closed in upon them at a charge, and the gleaming bayonets produced the sad
conviction on the minds of the Rifles that they had been entrapped and must surrender. They
were immediately taken in charge, by a detachment of the British and hurried toward the canal,
where they arrived just in time to be placed in the boats which had brought their captors, who
proved to be the Grenadier Company of the Ninety-Third Highlanders. These prisoners were taken
down the bayou to the fleet.

Those who were thus captured embraced several of the most respectable citizens of New Orleans.
Among them were Benjamin Storey, Esq., long one of the most respected, wealthy and prosperous
merchants and bankers in the city, and for many years president of the Bank of Louisiana;
William Flower, one of the oldest merchants of New Orleans. These two gentlemen had been
badly wounded. There were also among the prisoners the late John Lynd and that wild, rollicking
citizen of Irish birth, famous for his wit and valor, Kenney Laverty. Others of the Rifles
attempted to escape by the river, and a few succeeded. Two of them, however, were not so
fortunate. They were Denis Prieur, at one time collector of the city of New Orleans and several
times mayor, and one of the most sagacious, enlightened and intelligent public officers whom
the city and State had ever employed, and a Scotchman by the name of McGillvray.

After remaining together for some time, these two gentlemen agreed to separate. "McGillvray was
to endeavor to escape by the river, and Prieur through Lacoste's field. Accordingly they
parted. Prieur advanced toward the right, keeping under cover of a fence. until he thought he
was beyond reach, and then started in full run across the field. He had not gone far before
coming to a ditch; he leaped it, and suddenly found himself surrounded by twenty British
soldiers, to whom he surrendered.  McGillvray was captured after being wounded. These were the
last captures of the British. Prieur, who was a Creole, was taken to Gen. Keane's headquarters,
where the General held a long conversation with him, and endeavored to impress upon his mind
the idea that the British did not come to Louisiana to wage war against the ancient population,
but to oust the Yankees, who had no right to the country, and ought not to be tolerated by the
Creoles. The General, however, had more than his match in Prieur, than whom there are few more
astute and sagacious men. He parried the General's interrogatories very adroitly, except the
one relative to Jackson's force, which, of course, he was too shrewd not to exaggerate.
Satisfied that he had made a very deep impression upon the unsophisticated Creole, Keane
ordered him to be released on his parole. Accordingly, early next morning, Prieur had the
pleasure to rejoin Jackson's army at Rodriguez Canal.

Keane subsequently complained very savagely of the bad faith of the Creoles, who, not
appreciating his kindness, had been the most active and sagacious enemies of the British, from
the commencement to the close of the campaign. He should have remembered that he who endeavors
to tamper with the loyalty and patriotism of a free people offers the most serious provocation
and insult, and justifies a greater bitterness of hostility and severer punishment than were
dealt out to the British on the plains of Villere'.

The other captive Rifles did not fare so well. They were taken to the British fleet, then lying
off Ship Island, and subjected for some time as prisoners of war to many hardships. We have
mentioned among the names of the prisoners those of John Lynd and Kenney Laverty Lynd was a
notary public, a quaint, sedate and solemn visaged, but very shrewd and sagacious person. Upon
the strength of his profession, having been connected with the administration of law, the
British founded the humorous conceit, which has been recorded in several publications, that
in the capture of the twenty-two members of Beale's Rifles, they had actually taken prisoners
all the lawyers and notaries of New Orleans. Such a capture would have deprived Jackson of no
less than five aids who were the leading members of the bar of the city, to-wit: Edward
Livingston, John R. Grimes, Abner L. Duncan, Devezac and P. L. B. Duplessis. Lynd and Laverty,
the latter on account of a most alarmingly treacherous brogue, the former for his sanctimonious
gravity, became frequent butts for the gibes of the British officers. Unfortunately, however,
for their reputation as wits, they obtained but few victories in their encounters with the dry,
solemn and quaint notary and the quick-witted Irishman. Many instances of their discomfiture
are related by the old people, who cherish with much devotion the stories and the witticisms,
however simple, of the times in which they played their parts. On one occasion the prisoners
being taunted with a want of hospitality and generosity toward their visitors, who had been led
to believe that they would be received with much pomp, and entertained with dinners and balls,
the ready Irishman replied, "And faith we did receive you with balls; and as for the dinners,
from what we have heard of ye, we thought you could provide for yourselves." This was a
delicate allusion to the hen roost robbing reputation which the British brought from the
Chesapeake, and probably to the threat of Sir Alexander Cochrane, to eat his Christmas dinner
in New Orleans.

During their detention in the fleet, the prisoners, as well as the sailors, were placed on half
rations. This was a sore trial to Americans, and especially Orleanians, who were accustomed to
an abundance of the luxuries and comforts of life. One day, as some of the officers of the
fleet were amusing themselves by catching sharks, near Cat Island, where they abound, Sir
Alexander Cochrane remarked that he never saw fish bite so greedily.

"Probably, yer honor, they are like myself, prisoners on half rations," respectfully suggested
Laverty, with a face an ell long. When it was suggested in allusion to his "rich Irish brogue,"
that the British government might treat him as a deserter, whose allegiance had never been
surrendered, Laverty, with an air of great gravity, asserted that he had "drawn his first
breath in a pretty little village in the good old State of Pennsylvania, which declaration he
subsequently justified by the ingenious explanation that no man breathed at all before he
breathed the air of liberty. Strongly contrasted with Laverty's light hearted jollity was the
oracular solemnity of his sedate companion, who never omitted an opportunity of warning the
British of the gloomy fall which awaited them when Gen. Jackson should get thoroughly aroused.
When the British would boast of their achievements on the 23d of December, they would be
awe-stricken by the mysterious and doleful expression, the ominous shaking of the head and
rolling of the eyeballs with which the American seer would accompany his invariable and
prophetic reply - "Oh, the end has not come yet." The ship on which the prisoners were detained
was the Royal Oak. At the time they were taken aboard the captain was absent. On his return to
his ship what was the captain's surprise to recognize in Mr. Pollock, one of the prisoners, a
bosom friend who had officiated as groomsman for him at his marriage, which event had occurred
in New York previous to the war. Of course the friends forgot that they were national enemies
and soon became as cordial and happy as if the two nations which they were respectively serving
were living on the best of terms. In consequence of this recognition the captain of the boat
caused a very elegant dinner to be prepared for the prisoners, which was attended by all the
officers of the Royal Oak and several other ships. The dinner was quite a jovial and protracted
one.  There was an abundance of good old wine, of which the Americans partook with such gusto
as might be expected of men who had been on "short commons" for several days. The indulgence
came near destroying the harmony of the occasion, as some political allusion having been
dropped by some of the British officers, several of the Americans fired up and declared that
they could whip the British, man to man, Kenney Laverty offering to take for "his share" two
of the "brawniest chaps in the fleet." But the ill feeling and exaltation passed with the fumes
of the liquor, and thenceforward the relations of the parties were pleasant and amicable

From this elevated position, Jackson perceived, on the evening of the 27th of December, the
formidable preparations to overwhelm him the next day. He comprehended, at a glance, the plan
of Pakenham, and set to work to resist and defeat it. This was a busy night in Jackson's
quarters. Officers were seen galloping in every direction for cannon and artillerists to
strengthen their lines. When the British commenced their advance, Jackson had only the two
six-pounders, which had made such a narrow escape on the night of the 23d. These had been
established on the levee. On the night of the 27th, a twelve-pounder howitzer was planted
so as to command the road, and shortly after a twentyfour-pounder on the left of the twelve.

On the morning of the 28th another twenty-four pounder was established under the fire of the
British battery on the levee. These, together with the battery of the Louisiana, presented
quite a formidable display of artillery the infantry also were strengthened. The First Regiment
of Louisiana militia was ordered to position on the right of the lines, and the Second regiment
to reinforce the extremity of the left, which had not yet been placed in a safe and reliable
condition, though Coffee's Tennesseeans were kept incessantly at work upon it. Other
precautions had not been neglected. The levee was cut below the lines in order to flood the
road and drown the British or render their advance difficult. But fate did not favor this
inglorious mode of destroying an enemy, who was destined to be overcome with his own weapons
and by mortal valor. The river fell and the road remained undamaged. Meantime Carroll had
marched his men, who were ill armed, many being supplied with fowling-pieces and discarded
guns, to Canal Roderigez, and set them to work on the entrenchments on the extreme left.

Jackson now had a force of over four thousand men and twenty pieces of artillery. How he ever
collected such a body of men and established them in so strong a position in so short a time,
is far more astounding than the results which were subsequently achieved. Pakenhain had at
least eight thousand men of all arms-all veteran soldiers, well armed and equipped, and
supplied with all the engines of destruction known to the science of modern warfare.

The morning of the 28th was one of those beautiful, bracing, life and joy giving days peculiar
to Louisiana in the winter season. In its brightness, clearness and temperate mildness it was a
delicious novelty to the British, accustomed to fogs, clouds, inky skies and oppressive vapors.
The air was just frosty enough to give it purity, elasticity and freshness. A sparkling mist
veiled the beauty of the waking morn. The evergreens which dotted and encircled the dusky plain
with emerald glistened with the diamond drops from heaven.

All nature seemed to be animated by these bright influences. The trees were melodious with the
noisy strains of the rice birds, and the bold falsetto of that pride of Southern ornithology,
the mocking bird, who, here alone, continues the whole year round his unceasing notes of
exulting mockery and vocal defiance. * * * At break of day, or as soon as the mist had melted
into the purple that spread over the horizon, to form, as it were, a carpet on which the king
of day might strut forth upon the world, both armies stood to arms. Pickets were called in.
Drums were beat. The blast of bugles rang far along the banks of the old Father of Waters. All
the hum and buzz of some great movement were observable in both camps. Jackson occupied his old
position, watching from the window of his headquarters every movement of his enemy with the
eye of a lynx and the heart of a lion. His countenance wore that same expression of stern
determination and dauntless courage, communicating to all around a fearless and undoubting
confidence. Often would he cast anxious glances up the road to the city, as if in expectation
of some new reinforcement.

He was not permitted to remain long in doubt as to the intention of the British. Their army was
soon perceived to be in motion. It advanced in two steally columns. Gibbs, with the Fourth, the
Twenty-first, Forty-fourth and one Black Corps, hugging the wood or swamp on the right
with the Ninety-fifth Rifles, extending, in skirmishing order across the plain and meeting the
right of Keane's column, which consisted of the Eighty-fifth, the Ninety-fifth and one Black
Corps. The artillery preceded the latter in the main road. Keane held his column as near the
levee as possible, and under the protection of Bienvenu's and Chalmette's quarters. Detached
from Gibbs' column was a party of skirmishers and light infantry, under the command of that
active and energetic officer, Lieutenant Colonel Robert Rennie, whose orders were to turn the
American left and gain the rear of their camp. In this order the British moved forward in
excellent spirits and brilliant array. Pakenham, with his staff and a guard composed of the
Fourteenth Dragoons, rode nearly in the center of the line, so as to command a view of both
columns. The American scouts retired leisurely before the, British, firing and shouting
defiance at them The Louisiana now weighed anchor and floated down the stream, and then
anchored again in a position - which commanded the road and the whole field in front of the
American lines. Jackson had ordered McRea, of the artillery, to blow up Chalmette's and
Bienvenu's houses. By some accident this order was only partially executed - a fortunate
circumstance - as these buildings served to mask the American lines at the strongest point, and
to precipitate Keane's column with perilous suddenness upon Jackson's guns. Chalmette's, the
house nearest to Jackson's lines, was blown up just as  the British passed Bienvenu's. This had
been over since the 23d the headquarters of Hind's troops, whence they were in the habit of
coming hourly in detachments to harass the enemy and reconoiter his position. Now, for the
first time, Keane beheld through his glass the mouths of several large cannon protruding from
Jackson's lines, and completely covering the head of his column. These guns were manned as guns
are. not often manned on land.

Early in the morning Jackson's anxious glances toward the city had been changed into
expressions of satisfaction and confidence by the spectacle of several straggling bands of
red-shirted, bewhiskered, rough and desperate - looking men, all begrimed with smoke and mud,
hurrying down the road toward the lines. These proved to be the Baratarians under Dominique,
Yeou and Bluche, who had run all the way from the Fort St. John, where, they had been stationed
since their release from prison. They immediately took charge of one of the twenty-four-
pounders. The Baratarians were followed by two other parties of sailors of the crew of the
Carolina, under Lieutenants Crowley and Norris. These detachments were ordered to man the
howitzer on the right and the other twenty-four-pounder, which, being on the left of Plauche's
battalion, had been in charge of St. Geme's dismounted dragoons.

Thus prepared, Jackson waited the approach of the British. Forward they came, in solid column,
as compact and orderly as if on parade, under cover of a shower of rockets, and a continual
fire from their artillery in front and their batteries on the levee. It was certainly a bold
and imposing demonstration, for such, as we are told by British officers, it was intended to
be. To new soldiers, like the Americans, fresh from civic and peaceful pursuit, who had never
witnessed any scenes of real warfare, it was certainly a formidable display of military power
and discipline. These veterans moved as steadily and closely together as if marching in review
instead of 11 in the cannon's mouth." Their muskets catching the rays of the morning sun,
nearly blinded the beholder with their brightness, whilst their gay and varied uniforms, red,
gray, green and tartan, afforded a pleasing relief to the winter-clad field and the sombre
objects around.

On, on came the glittering array, scarcely heeding the incessant fire which that cool veteran,
Humphrey, poured into their ranks from the moment they were visible. But as they approached
nearer, they were suddenly brought to a sense of their danger and audacity by the simultaneous
opening of the batteries of Morris and the Baratarians, and by a terrible broadside from the
Louisiana, which swept the field obliquely to the line of march of the British column.  Never
was there a more effective and destructive fire. For several hours it was maintained with
incessant vigor and pitiless fury. More than eight hundred shots were fired by the Louisiana
alone, with most-deadly effect. One single discharge of this most admirably managed battery-for
it hardly deserved the name of ship, killed and wounded fifteen men.

Under such an incessant and galling fire, there was no safety for the British except in
retreat, or in a supine position, as it is called in military phrase, but as it would be styled
in American parlance, "taking to the ditch." For some time Keane's solid column withstood with
great firmness this terrific storm; but it was a vain display of valor. Soon were the
battalions ordered to deploy into line and seek a cover in the ditches. In a few minutes the
heavy column was diluted into a thin line, and the men scrambled pell mell into every
convenient ditch, or behind every elevated knoll which presented itself. Gaining the ditches,
in which they sank to their middle, they leaned forward, concealing themselves in the rushes
which grew on the banks of the canal.

The artillery could not be so easily removed or covered. The guns of the Americans were now
concentrated on the British battery. The two field pieces, which had been advanced on the road
and levee, quite near to the American lines, were soon dismantled, many of the gunners were
killed, and those who escaped destruction finally abandoned their useless pieces, leaving them
on the road to be knocked and tossed about, the sport of Humphrey's unerring twelve-pounders.
Thus, disastrously and ignominously, was Keane's column broken by the American artillery. The
melancholy and pensive countenance of Pakenham grew dark and gloomy indeed, as he perceived his
brilliant battalions melt into the earth as suddenly and magically as the clansmen of Rhoderick
Dhu-

"It seemed as if the mother earth
Had swallowed up her warlike birth."

Keane uttered curses, both loud and deep, upon the cruel fate which had cast his lot, hitherto
so brilliant, upon so dreary a field of military enterprise - a field fertile in everything,
but British laurels.

How fared it with Gibbs on the right? Here the prospect opened brighter, as the head of the
column approached the American lines. In the view of Gibbs, who had led the storming party
against Fort Cornelius, defended by one hundred guns, and of his men, who had scaled the
parapets of Badajoz, the walls of St. Sebastian and a hundred other places of equal strength,
nothing could be more contemptible than "the mere rudiments of an entrenched camp," as they
were styled by British writers. The whole works consisted of a low mound of earth with a narrow
ditch in front, not too wide to be leaped by a man of ordinary agility. So it remained
through the whole campaign.

As this mound came in view, Gibbs halted his main column, whilst the skirmishers were thrown
forward, and the detached part under Rennie dashed into the woods, closely pursuing the
American outposts, and advancing to a position within a bundled yards of the lines, behind
which Carroll was posted with his Tennesseeans. That prompt and ready officer immediately
ordered Colonel Henderson, with two hundred Tennesseeans, to steal through the swamp, gain the
rear of Rennie's party and then oblique to the right so as to cut them off from the main body.
It was a rash adventure, such as General Jackson would not have sanctioned had he been present
in that part of the lines.  Henderson's movement might have succeeded if he had not advanced
too far to the right, and thus brought his men under the heavy fire of a strong body of
British, who were posted behind a fence, nearly concealed by grass and weeds. The Colonel, a
gallant and promising officer, and five men were killed by the fire, several were wounded, and
the others seeing the object of the movement defeated, retired behind the lines. This was the
only success achieved by the British that day. * * * On that day the Americans lost nine men
killed and eight wounded. Of the British loss there are no precise or reliable accounts. We
conjecture from general statements it reached nearly two hundred killed and wounded. Such was
the ignominious conclusion of the imposing demonstration or feint of the British on the 28th of
December, 1814, just fifteen days before the decisive battle was fought.

Preparations for the Great Battle  - Jackson's artillery force may be summed up as follows:
Four sixes (including those in the redoubt), three twelves, two eighteens, three twenty-fours,
one thirty-two, one six-inch howitzer and one small brass cannonade. There was also a mortar,
which remained for some time in the camp, of no use, because no person could be found in the
army who knew how to plant it. This task was at last performed by a French veteran of the name
of Lefebver, but it did not prove a very effective weapon. Jackson's artillery consisted of
sixteen pieces, of various caliber. The heaviest of the artillery was placed on the right, to
resist the British batteries and repel the attack in that quarter. As a part of his defence,
the marine battery on the right bank, under Patterson, consisting or three twenty-fours and six
twelves, which that active officer had placed in battery between the 3d of December and 6th of
January, and which flanked the enemy on the left bank, must not be forgotten. This would swell
Jackson's artillery force to twenty-five pieces--quite a formidable proportion of artillery to
so small a force of infantry. The latter were distributed as follows: The redoubts on the
extreme right were occupied by a company of the Seventh infantry, under Lieutenant Ross. The
two sixes were served by a detachment of the Forty-fourth, under Lieutenant Marant. Tents were
pitched in this redoubt. On the extreme right, between Humphrey's battery and the river,
were stationed Beale's Rifles, thirty in number. From their left the Seventh Infantry extended
to Battery No. 3, covering Humphrey's and Morris' guns, taking in the powder magazine, built
since 1st January.

This regiment was four hundred and thirty strong, under that active young Creole, Major Peire.
Between the two guns of Battery No. 3 (Yeou's and Bluche's) the company of the Carbineers were
stationed, and the remainder of Plauche's battalion of Orleans, and Lacoste's battalion of
free men of color the former numbering two hundred and eighty-nine, the latter two hundred and
eighty--filled up the interval from No. 3 to No. 4 (Crawley's thirty-two) covering the latter
gun. Daquin's battalion of free men of color, one hundred and fifty, and the Forty-fourth,
under Captain Baker, two hundred and forty, extended to Perry's battery No. 5; two-thirds of
the remaining length of the line was guarded by Carroll's command, who was reinforced on the
7th by one thousand Kentuckians under General Adair, consisting of six hundred men under
Colonel Slaughter, and four hundred under Major Harrison, who were all of Major General Thomas'
Kentucky division of twenty-two hundred and fifty for whom arms could be obtained.

On the right of Battery No. 7 (Spott's) five hundred marines were stationed under Lieutenant
Bellevue. The extreme left was held by Coffee, whose men were compelled to stand constantly in
the water, and had no other beds than the floating logs which they could make fast to the
trees. Coffee's command was five hundred. Ogden's horse troops, fifty strong, were stationed
near headquarters; Cauveau's thirty, near him; and Hines' squadron, one hundred and fifty
strong, was encamped in the rear, on Delery's plantation. Detachment of Colonel Young's
regiment of Louisiana militia were stationed in the rear, near Pierna's canal, to prevent the
enemy coming into the camp in that direction, and also to prevent any person from leaving the
lines. Outposts were thrown out five hundred yards to the front. Jackson's whole force on the
left bank of the river amounted to four thousand men, but his lines were occupied by only three
thousand two hundred, of which less than eight hundred were regular troops, and those mostly
fresh recruits commanded by young officers. The consolidated report gave, on the 8th of
January, 1815 on the left bank of the river, a force of five thousand and forty-five, in
which, however, Major Harrison's Kentucky battalion is not included.

Jackson's army was divided into two divisions. The troops from the right to the left of the
forty-fourth were under the command of Colonel Ross, acting Brigadier General, and the left of
the line under Carroll and Coffee, the former as Major General and the latter as Brigadier
General.

How grossly and shamefully untrue is the statement of nearly all the British historians, that
Jackson had an army of twelve thousand. Allison, in his fourth volume of the history of Europe,
says: "Including seamen and mariners about six thousand combatants on the British side
were in the field; a slender force to attack double their number, entrenched to their teeth and
loaded with heavy artilery. * * * * General Jackson, an officer since become celebrated, both
in the military and political history of the country, commanded a military force destined for
the defence of the city which amounted to about twelve thousand men." It will be seen that this
great standard historian quadruples Jackson's force, and, by the vagueness of his terms,
conveys the idea that the British were but six thousand, which was the number of their storming
columns, exclusive of their reserves, of Thornton's detachment and the sailors and marines.

So Bissett, in his "History of the Reign of George III," states that the American force
collected for the defence of New Orleans consisted of thirty thousand men. The author of the
narrative of the British Army at Washington, Baltimore and New Orleans, an actor in the events
he describes, after mentioning the conflicting estimates of the American force, varying from
twenty-three thousand to thirty thousand, chooses a middle course and supposes the whole force
to be about twenty-five thousand. Baines, in his "History of the French Revolution," approaches
the truth, and sets down the force on each side at about ten thousand men.

Besides the arrangements for defence mentioned, there is another characteristic precaution of
Jackson. He had directed another entrenchment to be thrown up a mile and a half in the rear of
that which he occupied with his army, in which were posted all those of his army who were not
well armed or regarded as able-bodied. With rare exceptions, the men in charge of this line
were armed with only spades and pickaxes. Should the enemy succeed in carrying his main works
by escalade, Jackson intended to throw forward his mounted force and, under their protection
fall back to and rally upon his second line. A third line had also been drawn still nearer the
city, upon which the men had commenced working quite vigorously.

On the 6th it was well understood by Jackson that the British intended to cross the river, but
whether for the purpose of concentrating their force on the weak defences on the right bank, or
for a simultaneous and concerted advance on both banks, could only be conjectured by the
American commander. To obtain some information on this point Jackson sent his intelligent and
sagacious aid, Col. John R. Grimes, across the river to observe the movements of the enemy at
Villere's, and report upon the condition of Morgan's defences. Col. Grimes executed this order
in a prompt and efficient manner. He saw at a glance that the enemy was, preparing to throw a
detachment across the river, and he advised Gen. Morgan to march his whole force down, under
cover of the levee, take post opposite Villere's, and, when the enemy approached in their
boats, to open fire upon them. Completely protected by the levee, a better entrenchment than
that which Jackson had thrown up on the left, there is little doubt that, if this advice had
been adopted, Morgan would have destroyed the British detachment, which might attempt to cross
the river, or at least driven it back. But, instead of pursuing this sensible and practicable
plan, Morgan stationed his advance, consisting of one hundred and twenty militia of Maj.
Arnaud's battalion, under Maj. Tessier, armed with fowling pieces and musket cartridges, on
Mayhew's canal, in front of his own position, and several hundred vards from the place where
the British would probably land. Of course, this small force could cover but a small portion of
a position so illy chosen. 

On the night of the 7th Commodore Patterson and his volunteer aid, R. D. Shepherd, proceeded
down the right bank of the river, and, arriving at a point opposite the scene of the British
preparations, where they appeared to be most actively engaged, observed closely their
proceedings. They could hear a considerable commotion in the enemy's camp - the sound of men
pulling and dragging boats, as if in great haste; the splash of boats as they fell into the
river ; the orders of officers, and the expressions of relief and satisfaction of the laborers
as some work appeared to be finished. They could even discover, by the camp fires, a long line
of soldiers drawn up on the levee. They hastened back to Patterson's battery. On their return
Patterson observed the very weak and insecure position of Morgan, and, after consulting with
that officer, directed Mr. Shepherd to cross the river and inform Gen. Jackson of the state of
affairs, and beg him to reinforce Morgan, who had not men enough to occupy his lines. Shepherd
crossed the river and arrived at Jackson's headquarters about one o'clock on the morning of
the 8th. He informed the sentinel on guard that he had important intelligence to communicate to
the General, and was accordingly ushered into the room where Jackson lay on a sofa, snatching a
few moments of rest from the fatigues of the day. Around the General lay his aids on
the floor, all asleep. On Shepherd's entering, Jackson raised his head and asked: Who's there?"

Mr. Shepherd gave his name, and added that he had been sent over by Commodore Patterson and
Gen. Morgan to inform him, Gen. Jackson, that the appearances in the British camp indicated
that the main attack was to be made on the right bank, and that Morgan required more troops to
maintain his position. "Hurry back," replied the General, rising from his recumbent position,
"and tell Gen. Morgan that he is mistaken. The main attack will be made on this side, and I
have no men to spare. He must maintain his position at all hazards." Then looking at his
watch, and observing that it was past 1 o'clock, he exclaimed aloud, addressing his sleeping
aids: "Gentlemen, we have slept enough. Arise. The enemy will be upon us in a few minutes; I
must go and see Coffee." The aids arose hastily and commenced buckling on their swords, when
Mr. Shepherd departed, and, re-crossing the river, delivered the reply of Jackson to Morgan. 

Jackson did not, however, neglect Morgan, but ordered Gen. Adair to send a detachment of five
hundred Kentuckians to the lines on the right bank. This detachment was placed under the
command of Colonel Davis. lt was very badly armed and was greatly delayed in crossing the
river. At the naval arsenal, on the right bank, the Kentuckians received some old muskets, but
when they commenced their march to join Morgan, there were but two hundred and sixty of them
armed, and some of these had common pebbles instead of flints in their locks. They were,
however, hurried forward without rest or food, and after a fatiguing march of five, or
six miles, arrived at Morgan's lines; thence they were ordered forward to the advanced position
already occupied by Tessier.

They arrived here greatly fatigued, and formed on Tessier's left but a few moments before the
enemy appeared in sight. Morgan's whole force consisted of eight hundred and twelve men, all
militia, and but poorly armed. On his left he had two six-pounders, which were placed in charge
of Adjutant John Mixon, of the Louisiana militia, and a twelve-pounder under Lieutenant
Philibert, of the navy.

Patterson's battery, being in the rear of and masked by Morgan's lines, could not be used in
defence of the same. The guns were turned so as to flank the front of Jackson's lines on the
left bank. Such were the arrangements of the two armies for the expected final contest.

There was little sleeping in the American lines on the night of the 7th. The men were all
engaged in cleaning their pieces, preparing cartridges and performing various duties of
preparations for the conflict. The outposts and scouting parties were all alive, as usual,
watching every movement in the British camp with characteristic American curiosity.
They could hear very distinctly corresponding notes of preparation on the enemy's side, among
which was the noise of the workmen in reconstructing the redoubts, near the Chalmette building,
which had been destroyed on the 1st  of January.

There was intense anxiety, but no fear, in Jackson's little army. The citizen soldiers had now
grown to be veterans. They had learned confidence in their general, and in themselves, and if
these were not sufficient to nerve their arms for the struggle, the recollection of those dear
ones who then reposed in the city behind them, with so much confidence in their devotion and
heroism, inspirect every heart with heroic courage and determination.

Battle of New Orleans. - By the same conveyance which brought re-enforcement to Lambert, the
British soldiers received a most acceptable addition to their comforts, in the shape of a
supply of fresh provisions. A refreshing supper on the evening of the 7th produced no
little vivacity in the camp, and after packing their knapsacks, burnishing their arms, filling
their cartridge boxes, and arranging their modest toggery, that they might appear before the
famous beauties of New Orleans to greater advantage, the soldiers  destined to storm Jackson's
lines lay down to refresh their bodies for the coming struggle. At the same time Thornton, with
his command, moved to the bank of the river, where the men were drawn up and kept waiting for
the boats which were to pass them to the opposite side, The patience of Thornton was sorely
tried by the delay in the arrival of the boats. After the British had excavated a canal of
sufficient depth, the banks began to cave in just as they were dragging the boats through the
water, and their progress was greatly impeded. The providential and quite unexpected failing of
the river was the cause of this obstacle. The sailors were at last compelled to drag the boats
through the mud, and were thus enabled to launch upon the river about one-fourth of the boats
needed.

Thornton ordered his own regiment, a division of sailors and a company of marines, to crowd
into the boats, making about seven hundred men, and then the flotilla, under Captain Roberts,
pushed off from the left bank of the river. This was not Thornton's only unexpected obstacle.
Deceived, as all strangers are, by the quiet, smooth current of the Mississippi, Captain
Robert, imagined that the oars of the sailors could keep the boats right ahead and enable them
to disembark at a poiot opposite that of his departure. He was grievouly mistaken. The
Mississippi current at this point runs at the rate of five miles an hour. The barges of the
British, instead of holding up against the current, were swept by it a mile and a half down the
stream. Thus it happened that before Thornton's detachment could step ashore, the eastern sky
began to streak with the light of coming day.

Long after the men in the British camp had fallen asleep, full of hope, confidence, of bright
dreams of wealth, luxury, and spoils of "booty and beality", the officers kept awake their
little circles, discussing the chances of the morrow's combat.

The older and more experienced commanders, to whom the delay in bringing up the boats was
known, were gloomy and desponding. Some of them openly expressed their belief that the ensemble
of their plan was lost, and it would have to be gone over ahain.  Col. Daly of the Ninety-third
Hilanders, a brave and thoughtful officer, being asked for his opinion, turned to Dr. Dempster
of his regiment, and giving him his watch and a letter said: "Deliver these to my wife -  I
shall die at the head of my regiment."  The conduct of Col. Mullens, of the Forty-fourth, was
even more desponding, and far 1ess heroic.  His wife, all elegant lady, was then in the fleet,
mid had come over to grace the fashionable circles of New Orleans. She had been the life
of the squadron, contributing, by her fascinating manners and vivacity, to brighten many of the
dull and gloomy hours of the long voyage.  But her husband was far from being the soul of the
army. Son of a lord, he had obtained his promotion more by influence than merit.

Among the officers who have carved out their names and commissions by their own good swords,
the designation of Mullens to lead the advance of the storming party was ascribed to the
natural esprit de corps of their aristocratic commander, himself the son of an earl. Perhaps
they were correct, but Pakenham and Mullens took very different views of the privileges of the
sons of peers.  Pakenliam regarded that an honor and distinction which he frequently enjoyed,
never without glory, and never without grievous wounds, which Mullens looked upon as a death
sentence. He had received one honorable wound at Alvuera, and that sufficed to fill the measure
of his ambition.  Besides, Col. Mullens, whether prompted by a regard for his own safety, or
his good sense, had the sagacity to perceive the hopelessness of the enterprise, and to
declare that conviction in the hearing of both officers and men. He stated that his regiment
had been ordered to execution - that their dead bodies were to be used as a bridge for the
remainder of the army to march to a like fate. The young officers were in better spirits. They
had no doubt of their success, and, in a gay and jovial manner, discussed their individual
chances in the battle, speculated on the results of the campaign - on the prospect of
accumulating fortunes where they would be quartered in the city - what frolics they would have
- what distinction they would enjoy in the gay city of New Orleans - what jolly letters they
would write home, and what handsome presents they would send to the girls they "left behind
them," not forgetting mothers, wives, sisters and cousins.

About the hour when Jackson aroused his aids, Pakenham, having refreshed himself with a short
slumber, repaired from his headquarters to Viller's mansion, at the mouth of the canal, and
there discovered the mortifying delay in transporting Thompson's detachment across the river.

A cooler-headed commander would have perceived the serious interruption which this accident
made in his plan of operations and conformed his other movements to it. In other words, he
would have countermanded the advance on the left bank, which it was now certain must follow
that on the right, but which, if executed under the orders that had been issued, should precede
it. But Pakenham was a self-willed, gallant and somewhat reckless man, who believed that
courage and daring were the chief reliance in all military operations, who never, like
Lysander, eked out the lion's skin with the fox's. The orders of the Seventh were therefore
adhered to.

Before day Gibbs' and Keane's men were aroused from their lairs, and, forming, advanced in line
some distance in front of the pickets, about four hundred or five hundred yards from the
American lines. Here they remained, listening in anxious suspense for the firing on the other
side of the river. Not a sound could be heard across the calm surface of the great, silent
Mississippi. A thick fog involved the army, and shut out all in front and in rear from view.
The minutes, the hours flew rapidly by, and not a sound of Thornton could be heard. The truth
was that gallant officer had not even landed his men when Gibbs began to form his column for
the advance. The mist was now breaking. The American flag, on its lofty staff, in center of
Jackson's lines, began to wave its striped and starry folds above the vapory exhalations from
the earth, within full view of the British lines, and the dark, mound, behind which the
guardians of that standard stood, with arms at rust, became faintly visible. On the mound stood
many a sharp-eyed soldier, painfully stretching his vision to catch the first glance of the
enemy, that might be announced by his approach, or have the first fire at him. This honor
was reserved for Lieutenant Spotts, who, perceiving a faint red line several hundred yards in
front, discharged his heavy gun at it. Slowly the fog rolled up and thinned off, revealing the
whole British line, stretching across two-thirds of the plain. At the same moment a rocket
shot up near the river; another on the right, near the swamp; and then the long line seemed to
melt away suddenly, puzzling the American gunners, who were just bringing their pieces to bear
upon it. But the British had only changed their position and then deployed into column of
companies.

Forming this column of attack in admirable order, Gibbs now advanced toward the wood, so as to
have its cover, the Forty-fourth in front followed by the Twenty-first and Fourth. The column
passed the redoubt on the extreme right of the British, near the swamp, where the men of
the Forty-fourth were directed to pack the ladders and fascines, at the same time stacking
their muskets. The batteries of Spotts' Number 6 and Garrique's Number 7, and the Howitzer
Number 8, now began to play upon the column with some effect. There was no time to spare. The
Forty-fourth with the rest of the column rushed past the redoubt, some of the men picking up a
few fascines and ladders as they marched, and, fronting toward the American lines, advanced
steadily in compact columns, bearing their muskets at a shoulder. In his advance, Gibbs
obliqued toward the woods, so as to be covered by the projection of the swamp. But he could not
elude the fire of the batteries, which began to pour round and grape shot into his lines with
destructive effect. It was at this moment whispered through the columns that the Forty-fourth
had not brought the ladders and fascines. Pakenham hearing it, rode to the front and discovered
it was but too true. He immediately called out to Colonel Mullens, who was at the head of his
regiment, "File to the rear and proceed to the redoubt, execute the order and return as soon as
possible with your regiment." The execution of this order produced some disorder in the column,
and some delay in its advance. Gibbs, indignant at this disturbance, and at the disobedience of
Mullens, and perceiving his men falling around him, exclaimed, in a loud voice, "Let me live
until tomorrow and I'll hang him to the highest tree in that swamp."

But the column could not stand there exposed to the terrible fire of the American batteries,
waiting for the Forty-fourth, and so Gibbs ordered them forward. On they went, the Twenty-first
and Fourth, in solid, compact column the men hurraing [sic] and the rocketers covering their
front with a blaze of their combustibles. The American batteries we have named were now playing
upon them with awful effect, cutting great lanes through the column from front to rear, and
huge gaps in their flanks. These intervals were, however, quickly filled up by the gallant red
coats. The column advanced without pause or recoil steadily toward Spott's long eighteen, and
Cheauveau's six (No. 9). Carroll's men were all in their places, with guns sighted on the
summit of the parapet, while the Kentuckians, in two lines, stood behind, ready to take the
places of the Tennesseeans as soon as their pieces were discharged, thus making four lines in
this part of the entrenchment.

There they stood, all as firm as veterans, as cool and calculating as American frontiersmen.
All the batteries in the American line, including Patterson's marine battery, on the right
bank, began now to join those on the left in hurling a tornado of missiles into that serried,
scarlet column, which shook and oscillated like a huge painted ship tossed on an angry sea.

"Stand to your guns," cried Jackson, as he glanced along the lines; "don't waste your
ammunition - see that every shot tells."

Again he exclaimed, "Give it to them, boys; let us finish the business today."

The confused and reeling army of red coats had approached within two hundred yards of the
ditch, when the loud command of Carroll "Fire! Fire!" rang through the lines. The order was
obeyed, not hurriedly, excitedly and confusedly, but calmly and deliberately, by the whole of
Carroll's command, commencing on the left of the Forty-fourth. The men had previously
calculated the range of their guns, and not a shot was thrown away. Their bullets swept through
the British columns, cutting down the men by scores, and causing its head and flanks to melt
away like snow before a torrent. Nor was it one or several discharges followed by pauses and
intervals, but the fire was kept up without intermission, the front men firing and falling back
to load. Thus the fourlines, two Tennesseean and two Kentuckians, sharing the labor and glory
of the most rapid and destructive fusilade ever poured into a column of soldiers.

For several minutes did that terrible, incessant fire blaze along Carroll's front, and that
rolling, deafening, prolonged thunder fill the ears and confuse the sense of the astounded
Britons. Those sounds will never cease to reverberate in the ears of all who survived the
merciless fire.

The roar of the cannon, the hissing of the shells, the rumbling growl of the musketry, the wild
scream of the rockets, the whizzing of round shot, the sweeping blast of chain shot and the
crash of grape formed a horrid concert.

Then was seen the great advantage which the Americans possess in the skill with which they
handle firearms, the rapidity with which they load, the accuracy of their calculation and the
coolness of their aim, qualities developed by their frontier life and their habit of using arms
from their boyhood.

There were scarcely more than fifteen hundred pieces brought to bear on the British column, but
in the hands of Tennesseeans and Kentuckians they were made as effective as ten times the
number fired by regulars of the best armies of Europe. Against this terrible fire, Gibbs boldly
lead his column. It is no reflection upon those veterans to say that they halted, wavered and
shrank at times when the crash of bullets became most terrible, when they were thus shot down
by a foe whom they could not see. But the gallant peninsular officers threw themselves in
front, inciting and arousing their men by every appeal, and by the most brilliant examples of
courage. The men cried out, "Where are the Forty-fourth. If we get to the ditch we have no
means of scaling the lines!" "Here come the Forty-fourth ! here come the Forty-fourth! "
shouted Gibbs. This assurance restored order and confidence in the ranks. There came at last a
detachment of the Forty-fourth, with Pakenham himself at their head, rallying and inspiring
them by appeals to their ancient fame - reminding them of the glory they had acquired in
Egypt and elsewhere, and addressing them as his "countrymen" (the Forty-fourth were mostly
Irish.) The men came up gallantly enough, bearing their ladders and fascines, but their colonel
was far in the rear, being unable even with the assistance of a servant to reach his post over
the rough field.

Pakenham led them forward, and they were soon breasting the storm of bullets with the rest of
the column. At this moment Pakenham's bridle arm was struck by a ball and his horse killed by
another. He then mounted the small black pony of his aid, Capt. McDougall, and pressed forward.
But the column had advanced now as far as it could get. Most of the regimental officers were
cut down. Patterson, of the Twenty-first, Brooks, of the Fourth, and Debbiege of the
Forty-fourth, were all disabled at the heads of their regiments. There were not officers enough
to command, and the column began now to break in two detachments, some pushing forward to the
ditch, but the greater part falling back to the rear and to the swamp until the whole front was
cleared. They were soon rallied at the ditch, were reformed, and, throwing off their knapsacks,
advanced again.

Keane, judging very rashly that the moment had arrived for him to act, now wheeled his line
into column (it had been, as we have seen, intended as a reserve to threaten, without advancing
upon the American lines), and, with the Ninety-third in front, pushed forward to act his part
in the bloody tragedy. The gallant and stalwart Highlanders, nine hundred strong, strode across
the ensanguined field, with their heavy, solid, massive front of a hundred men, and their
bright muskets glittering in the morning sun, which began now to scatter a few rays over the
field of strife. Onward pressed the Tartan warriors, regardless of the concentrated fire of the
batteries, which now poured their iron hail into their ranks at a more rapid pace than the
other column, the Ninety-third rushed forward into the very maelstrom of Carroll's musketry,
which swept the field as with a huge scythe. The gallant Daly fulfilled his prophecy, and fell
at the head of his regiment, a grape shot passing through his body. Major Creagh then took the
command. Incited by the example of the Ninety-third, the remnant of Gibbs' brigade again came,
up, with Pakenham on their left, Gibbs on their right. They had approached within a
hundred Fards of the lines.

At this moment the standard bearer of the Ninety-third, feeling something rubbing against his
epaulette, turned, and perceived through the smoke a small black horse which Pakerham now rode.
It was led by his aid, as he seemed to have no use of his right arm; in his left hand he held
his cap, which he waved in the air crying out: "Hurrah! brave Highlanders." At this instant
there vas a terrible crash, as if the contents of one of the big guns of the Americans had
fallen on the spot, killing and wounding nearly all who were near. It was then the ensign of
the Ninety-third saw the horse of Pakenham fall, and the general roll from the saddle into the
arms of Capt. McDougall, who sprang forward to receive him. A grape shot had struck the General
on the thigh and passed through his horse, killing the latter immediately. As Capt. McDougall
and ome of the men were raising the General, another ball struck him in the groin which
produced immediate paralysis.

It is an interesting coincidence that Captain McDougall was the same officer into whose arms
General Ross had fallen from his horse in the advance on Baltimore.

The wounded and dying General was borne to the rear and laid down in the shade of a venerable
live-oak, standing in the shelter of the field and beyond the reach of the American guns. A
surgeon was called, who pronounced is wound mortal. In a few minutes, the gallant young officer
breathed his last, and his faithful aid had to lament the death of another heroic chief, who,
after winning laurels that entitled him to repose and glory enough for life, perished thus
gloriously in a war of unjust invasion against his own race and kindred. The old oak under
which Pakenham yielded up his soul still stands, bent and twisted by time and many tempests - a
melancholy monument of that great disaster of the British arms.

Gibbs fared even worse than Pakenham, for, desperately wounded shortly after the fall of the
general-in-chief, he, too, was borne to the rear, and lingered many, many hours in horrible
agony until the day after, when death came to his relief. Keane also fell badly wounded, being
shot through the neck, and was carried off the field. There were no more field officers to
command or rally the broken column. Major Wilkinson, brigade major, shouted the men to follow,
and pushed forward.

Followed and aided by Lieutenant Lovack and twenty men, he succeeded in missing the ditch, and
had clambered up the breastwork, when, just as he raised his head and shoulders over its
summit, a dozen guns were brought to bear against him, and the exposed portions of his body
were riddled with bullets. He had, however, strength to raise himself, and fell upon the
parapet. Here his mutilated form was borne with every expression of pity and sympathy
by the generous Kentuckians and Tertnesseeans to a place of shelter in the rear of the camp.

Here the gallant Briton received every attention which could be rendered to him. Major Smiley,
of the Kentuckians, a kind-hearted gentleman, endeavored to cheer the spirits of the dying
soldier, saying: "Bear up, my poor fellow; you are to; brave a man to die." " I thank you from
my heart," faintly murmured the young officer. "It is all over with me. You can render me a
favor; it is to communicate to my commander that I fell on your parapet, and died like a
soldier and a true Englishman."  In two hours the gallant Wilkinson was a corpse, and his body
was respectfully covered with one of the colors of the volunteers.

After the fall of Wilkinson the men who followed him threw themselves into the ditch, some made
feeble efforts to climb up the parapet, but it was too slippery, and they rolled into the
fosse. The majority, however, were satisfied to cower under the protection of the entrenchment,
where they were allowed a momentary respite and shelter from the American fire. The remainder
of the column, broken, disorganized and panic-stricken, retired in confusion and terror, each
regiment leaving two-thirds of its men dead or wounded on the field. The Ninety-third, which
had advanced with nine hundred men and twenty-five officers, could muster but one hundred and
thirty men and nine officers, who now stole rapidly from the bloody field, their bold courage
all changed into wild dismay. The other regiments suffered in like manner, especially the
Twenty-first, which had lost five hundred men. The fragments of the two gallant brigades fell
back precipitately toward the rear.

At this moment Lambert, hearing of the death of Pakenham and the severe wounds of Gibbs and
Keane, advanced slowly and cautiously forward with the reserve. Just before he received his
last wound Pakenham had ordered Sir John Tyndell, one of his staff, to order up the reserve. As
the bugler was about to sound the "advance," by order of Sir John, his right arm was struck by
a ball and his bugle fell to the ground. The order was, accordingly, never given, and the
reserve only marched up to cover the retreat of the broken column of the two other brigades.

Thus, in less than twenty-five minutes was the main attack of the British most disastrously
repelled, and the two brigades nearly destroyed. On their left they had achieved a slight
success, which threatened serious consequences to the American lines. Here the advance
of Keane's brigade, consisting of the Ninety-fifth Rifles, the light infantry company of the
Seventh, Ninety-third and Forty-third, and several companies of the West India regiments, in
all nearly a thousand men, under the gallant and active officer, Colonel Rennie, of the
Twenty-first, had crept up so suddenly on the Americans as to surprise their outpost and reach
the redoubt about as soon as the advance guard of the Americans, which was threatened by Gibbs'
advance, had fallen back from their left and was now hurrying into their lines. The British
were so close upon their retiring guard that the Americans were unable to open their batteries
upon them, fearing that they would kill some of their own men.

It was with difficulty that Humphrey could keep his gunners from applying the match to his
pieces that completely commanded the road down which the Americans, mingled with the pursuing
British, were retiring. At last, reaching the redoubt, the Americans clambered over the
embankment and the leading files of the British following, succeeded in also gaining the
interior, where, being supported by others, they engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with the
soldiers of the infantry, whom they drove out into the lines, which were reached by a plank
across the ditch, separating the redoubt from the main line. But they did not hold the redoubt
long, for now the Seventh Infantry began to direct the whole fire upon the interior of the
redoubt, which very soon made it too hot for the British; the detachment advanced in two
columns, one on the road and the other filing along the river, under cover of the levee. The
Seventh Infantry and Humphrey's batteries poured into the column on the road a most destructive
fire. Those on the river bank were protected by the levee from the fire of the batteries and
troops in the lines, but attracted the attention of the hawk-eyed Patterson on the right bank
of the river, who gave them scattering volleys of grape, which strewed the river bank with the
dead and wounded.

Whilst this terrible slaughter was being enacted on the extreme right and left of the American
lines, the center remained inactive. A few men on the right of Plauche's battalion fired
without orders when the Seventh Infantry commenced their fire, but they were quickly silenced
by their officers, as the enemy were too far off and they only wasted their ammunition. From
Plauche's, Daquin's and Lacoste's battalions and the Forty-fourth, at least eight hundred men,
not a gun was fired save a few, which were discharged at an angle of 45 degrees in order that
the bullets might fall into the ranks of the enemy, and a few scattering shots by the left
company of the Forty-fourth, which, however, were instantly suppressed. The gallant volunteers
chafed with impatience at the restraints to which they were thus subjected in being compelled
to look on, idle spectators, of so glorious a conflict. They could with difficulty be prevented
from stealing from their posts to the right or left, to have a shot at the captes rogues. If,
however, they did not contribute to the predominant music of the conflict, the roar of the
cannon and the rattling of musketry, they served to enliven and vary the monotony of those
sounds, and offered an additional stimulant to the courage and ardor of the men by the
inspiring melody of their fine band.

It is a rare circumstance in a battle, that martial music can be sustained throughout the
action. In the American army, such an occurrence was a phenomenon, never before observed in any
battle. The moment the British came into view and their signal rocket pierced the sky with its
fiery flame, the band of the battalion D'Orleans struck up "Yankee Doodle " - and thenceforth
throughout the action it did not cease to discourse all the national and military airs in which
it had been instructed. The British had not this incentive. Their musical instrument had never
been taken from the box in which they were afterward found by the Americans. They advanced with
no blasts of trumpet, with no stirring roll of drums and lively notes of the piercing fife -
with not even the monotonous martial screams of the bagpipe, arousing the pride and heroism of
the Highlanders. A few buglers in the light infantry regiments contributed the only musical
sounds to relieve, on their side, the awful din and tumult of the battle.

Subtracting the center of Jackson's lines already enumerated, at least one half of Coffee's
men, who never fired a gun, and a large number of Kentuckians, whose pieces were so defective
as, according to the testimony of some persons, to place the Tennesseeans in more danger from
their friends and supporters in the rear than from their enemies in front, there were actually
less than half of Jackson's old force engaged in the battle. There is no instance in history
where so small a force achieved so great a success. It is true the batteries contributed
largely to these results, but not to the extent that is generally estimated, as the heaviest of
Jackson's guns were kept quite busy returning the fire of the two batteries which the British
had thrown up on the night of the 7th, in the center of the field and near the road on the
ruins of Chalmette's establishment, from which they maintained a continuous fire during and
after the advance of the storming parties. Morris', Crawly's, You's and Bluche's batteries gave
their particular attention to these batteries, and succeeded in silencing them shortly after
the general retrogade movement of the British lines into the swamp on the extreme right. The
British had thrown out a detachment of skirmishers under Lieut. Col. Jones, of the Fourth. They
succeeded in getting quite near Coffee's men, but, becoming mired, were either killed or
captured by the Tennesseeans, who astonished the Britons by the squirrel-like agility with
which they jumped from log to log, and their alligator-like facility of moving through the
water, bushes and mud. Some of the prisoners taken in the swamp were of the West India
Regiment, who were greatly comforted in their forlorn position by the idea that they were
captives of men of their own color and blood, - deceived by the appearance of the Tenneseeans,
who, from their constant exposure, their familiarity with gunpowder, and their long
unacquaintance with the razor, or any other implement of the toilet, were certainly not fair
representations of the pure Caucasian race. The unfortunate red-coated Africans soon discovered
their error, when they were required by their facetious captors to "dance Juba" in the mud a
foot deep. It was eight o'clock-two hours since the action commenced-before the musketry ceased
firing. As long as there was a British soldier visible, though at a distance which rendered it
quite futile to endeavor to reach him with musket or rifle, a cartridge would be wasted in
the vain attempt. At last the order was passed down the lines to "cease firing," and the men,
panting with fatigue and excitement, rested on their arms.  At this moment Jackson, who, during
the whole action had occupied a prominent position near the right of Plauchs's battalion, where
he could command a view of the whole entrenchment, now passed slowly down the lines,
accompanied by his staff, halting about the center of each command, and addressing to its
commander and the men words of praise and grateful commendation. His feeble body now stood
erect and his face, relaxing its usual sternness, glowed with the fire of a proud victor in the
noblest of all causes, the defence of his country's flag, the protection of the lives, property
and honor of a free people, and as he passed, the band struck up "Hail, Columbia," and the
whole line, now for the first time facing to the rear, burst forth in loud and prolonged hurras
to the chief, by whose indomitable heroism and energy they had been enabled to inflict so awful
a punishment upon the enemy who had invaded their homes and sought to dishonor their flag. But
these notes of exultation died away into sighs of pity and exclamations of horror and
commiseration as soon as the artillery, which had kept up their fire at intervals, after the
muskets ceased, being silenced, the smoke ascending from the field revealed a spectacle which
sent a thrill of horror along that whole line of exultant victors. The bright column and long
red lines, a splendid army, which occupied the field where it was last visible to the
Americans, had disappeared as if by some supernatural agency. Save the hundreds of miserable
creatures who rolled over the field in agony or crawled and dragged their shattered limbs
over the muddy plains, not a living foe could be seen by the naked eye. The commanders with
their telescopes succeeded with some difficulty in discovering, far in the rear, a faint red
line, which indicated the position of General Lambert with his reserve, stationed in a ditch in
what that officer designated in his dispatch, a supine position, meaning that the men after
"falling into the ditch, which covered them to the waist, leaned over on their faces and thus
escaped the cannon balls of the Americans. These were the only live objects visible in the
field, but with the dead, it was so thickly strewn, that from the American ditch you could have
walked a quarter of a mile to the front on the bodies of killed and disabled. The space in
front of Carroll's position, for an extent of two hundred yards, was literally covered with the
slain. The center of the column could be distinctly traced in the broad red line of the victims
of the terrible batteries and unerring guns of the Americans. They fell in their tracks; in
some places whole platoons lay together as if killed by the same discharge. Dressed in their
gay uniforms, cleanly shaved, and attired for the promised victory and triumphal entry into the
city, these stalwart men lay on the gory field, frightful examples of the horrors of war.
Strangely indeed did they contrast with those ragged, unshorn, begrimed and untidy,
strange-looking men, who, crowding the American parapet, coolly surveyed and commented upon the
terrible destruction they had caused. There was not a private among the slain whose aspect did
not present more of the pomp and circumstance of war than any of the commanders of the victors.
In the ditch there were not less than forty dead, and at least a hundred who were wounded, or
who had thrown themselves into it for shelter. On the edge of the woods there were many who,
being slightly wounded, or unable to reach the rear, had concealed themselves under the brush
and in the trees. It was pitiable, indeed, to see the writhing of the wounded and mutilated,
and to hear their terrible cries for help, water, which arose from every quarter of the plain.
As this scene of death, desolation, bloodshed and suffering came into full view of the American
lines a profound and melancholy silence pervaded the victorious army. No sounds of exultation
or rejoicing were now heard. Pity and sympathy had succeeded to the boisterous and savage
feelings, which a few minutes before had possessed their souls. They saw no longer the
presumptuous, daring and insolent invader, who had come four thousand miles to lay waste a
peaceful country; they forgot their own suffering and losses, and the barbarian threats of the
enemy, and now only perceived humanity, fellow creatures in their own form, reduced to the most
helpless, miserable and pitiable of ,conditions of suffering, desolation and distress, Prompted
by this motive, many of the Americans stole without leave from their positions, and with their
canteens proceeded to assuage the thirst and render other assistance to the wounded. The
latter, and those who were captured in the ditch, were led into the lines, where the
wounded received prompt attention from Jackson's medical staff. Many of the Americans carried
their disabled enemies into the camps on their backs, as the pious Eneas bore his feeble parent
from burning Troy. Some of the British soldiers in the ditch, not understanding the language of
the freemen of color, who went to their assistance, but, thinking that their only object was to
murder or rob, fired upon them. This, at least, is the only apology for conduct which was
regarded as very atrocious, and produced considerable excitement in the American lines.

The Americans thus killed and wounded were unarmed, and engaged in the duty of the Good
Samaritan, attending the wounded and relieving the distressed.  It has been charged that they
were fired upon by order of the British officers, out of chagrin and mortification for the
defeat. If this be true it is a pity that the names of such officers could not be known, that
they might be separated from those whose conduct throughout the campaign proved them to be
honorable and gallant soldiers and high-toned gentlemen. In this manner several Americans were
killed and wounded. Indeed more causalties occurred to the Americans after the battle than in
the principal action. The British evidently mistook the humane purposes of the Americans, and
even when there was no other alternative manifested a disposition to resist capture. One
officer, who was slightly wounded, declined surrendering to one of the Tennesseeans, whose
appearance was not very impressive, and disregarding his call was walking off, when the
Tennesseean, drawing a bead on him, cried out: "Halt, Mr. Redcoat; one more step and I'll drill
a hole through your leather," whereupon the officer surrendered, exclaiming at the same time:
"What a disgrace for a British officer to have to surrender to a chimney sweep."

Of course there was a general desire among the Americans to procure some lawful trophy--some
moments of their great victory-and many of the men wandered over the field in pursuit thereof.
They were quite successful in securing several such mementoes, among which were the field
glasses of Pakenham, and an elegant sword, believed to be Pakenham's, but which was afterward
claimed by Gen. Keane, and delivered to him by order of Jackson.

Pakenham's glass was identified and remained in the possession of Colonel, afterward General,
Garrique Fhiujac, who commanded one of the batteries on the left. The trumpets of Gibbs and
Keane were also picked up on the field, and became the property of Coffee's brigade. At least a
thousand stand of arms were gathered by the Americans from the scene of the slaughter. The
prisoners and wounded being now collected within the lines, were placed in carts or formed into
detachments to be sent up to the city. Every attention was given to their relief and comfort.
Many of the prisoners seemed not at all disheartened by their capture, but indeed gave
manifestations of joy and satisfaction, especially the Irish, who declared that they did not
know whither they were bound when they left the old country-that they never wanted to fight the
Americans. "Why, then," asked some of the American guards, "did you march up so boldly to our
lines in the face of such a fire? " "And faith, were we not obliged, with the officers behind,
sticking and stabbing us-with their swords?" There were unmistakable proofs of the truth of
this remark on the bodies of many of the men, whose clothes and flesh were cut evidently with
sharp instruments.

Some distance in the rear of Jackson's lines the greater part of the adult population of New
Orleans, not connected with the army, were gathered in anxious suspense observing the progress
of the battle, and receiving with the most greedy zest and intense anxiety every fact or
rumor which passed from the front to the rear sentinels. For toward the swamp a number of boys,
eager to see what was going on, climbed the trees, and thus commanded a distant but rather
confused view of the battle. When the guns ceased firing, and after the terrible tumult
of the battle, which could be distinctly heard far to the rear and even in the city, had
settled into silence and quiet, only broken by the loud hurras of the Americans, the anxious
spectators ane listeners in the rear, quickly comprehending the glorious result, caught up the
sounds of exultation and echoed them along the banks of the river, until the glad tidings
reaching the city sent a thrill of joy throughout its limits and brought the whole population
into the streets to give full vent to their extravagant joy. The streets resounded with hurras.
The only military force in the city, the veterans, under their indefatigable commander, the
noble old patriot soldier, Captain DeBuys, hastily assembled and, with a drum and fife, paraded
the streets amid the salutes and hurras of the people, the waving of snowy handkerchiefs of
the ladies, and the bound, less exultation and noisy joy of the juveniles. Every minute brought
forth some new truth of the great and glorious victory. First, there came a messenger, whose
horse had been severely taxed, who inquired for the residences of the physicians of the city,
and dashed madly through the streets in pursuit of surgeons and apothecaries. All of the
profession, whether in practice or not, were requested to proceed to the lines, as their
services were needed immediately. "For whom?" was the question which agitated the bosom of
many an anxious parent and devoted wife, and for a moment clouded and checked the general
hilarity. Soon, it was known, however, that this demand for surgeons was on account of the
enemy. All who possessed any knowledge of the curative art, who could amputate or set a limb,
or take up an artery, hurried to the camp. Next there came up a message from the camp to
dispatch all the carts and other vehicles to the lines. This order, too, was fully discussed
and commented on by the crowd which gathered on the streets and in all public resorts. But,
like all Jackson's orders, it was also quickly executed.

It was late in the day before the purpose of this order was clearly perceived, as a long and
melancholy procession of these carts, followed by a crowd of men, was seen slowly and silently
wending their way along the levee from the field of battle. They contained the British wounded;
and those who followed in the rear were the prisoners in charge of a detachment of Carroll's
men. Emulating the magnanimity of the army, the citizens pressed forward to tender their aid to
their wounded enemies. Their hospitals being all crowded with their own sick and wounded, these
unfortunate victims of English ambition were taken in charge by the citizens, and by private
contributions were supplied with mattrasses and pillows, with a large quantity of lint and old
linen, for dressing their wounds, all of which articles were then exceedingly scarce in the
city.  Those far-famed nurses, the quadroon women of New Orleans, whose services are so
conspicuously useful when New Orleans is visited by pestilence, freely gave their kind
attention to the wounded British, and worked at their bedsides night and day. Several of the
officers who were grievously wounded, were taken to private residences of the citizens, and
there provided with every comfort. Such acts as these ennoble humanity, and obscure even the
horrors and excesses of war.

From the city the news of Jackson's triumph flew rapidly through the neighboring country. It
soon reached a gloomy detachment, which, under Jackson's orders, had been condemned to
mortifying and disgusting inactivity at the little fort of St. John. Here, on the placid
Pontchartrain, the roar of Jackson's batteries on the morning of the 8th could be distinctly
heard. It was known that this was the great attack--the last effort of the British. Their
absence from the scene of such a great crisis was humiliating beyond all expression to the
gallant men of this detachment. One of them, an officer, the late venerable Nicholas Sinnott, a
stalwart and determined veteran, who had wielded a pike at Vinegar Hill, bore this
disappointment with ill grace and little philosophy. In the excitement of the moment, he could
with difficulty be restrained from heading a detachment to proceed to the lines, and expressed
his disgust in words which were not forgotten to the day of his death by his intimate friends
and associates. "Oh! there are the bloody villains, murdering my countrymen, and myself stuck
down in this infernal muddy hole."

The general rejoicing and exultation in the American camp, and in the city, which had been
interrupted by the calls of humanity and pity excited by the disaster of the enemy, were
destined to receive another serious shock, and was suddenly changed into intense anxiety, as
the news, which had been in possession of the commander in chief from an early hour, leaked
out, that all had not gone well on the other bank of the river, and the British actually
commanded their lines and had advanced to the rear. It may be better imagined than described,
how profoundly the camp was agitated by this alarming intelligence. It was but too true. The
British attack had been as successful on the right, as it had been disastrous on the left bank.
Jackson might safely have said, as Napoleon, with far less truth, remarked, when he heard of
the defeat of his fleet at Trafalgar-" I cannot be everywhere." There can be little doubt that
if he had commanded on the right bank, the only disgrace which sullied the glory of the
campaign would have been avoided.

We have seen how Morgan sent forward his advance, consisting of less than three hundred
ill-armed and fatigued men, to occupy a line a mile in front of his own - a line stretching
from the levee to the swamp which could not have been manned by less than a thousand men and
several pieces of artillery. Had even these three hundred men been sent to the point were the
British landed, and stationed behind a landing, Thornton's crowded boats could not have reached
the river's bank. They would have enjoyed the advantages of daylight, for it was half past four
when Thornton stepped ashore - a mile further down the stream than the Fortv-third calculated.
His men were formed into columns just as the rockets, ascending on the other bank, announced
the commencement of the attack in that quarter. This landing had been effected without the
slightest interruption. Covering his flank by three gun-boats, each bearing a carronade in the
bows, under the command of Capt. Roberts, Thornton pushed rapidly forward up the road, until he
reached Morgan's advanced position. Here, dividing his force, he moved a detachment of the
Eighty-fifth against Tessier's position, while, with the remainder of his regiment, he held the
road against Davis. As Thornton advanced, Roberts opened his carronades on Davis' command. The
detachment of the Eighty-fifth rushed on Tessier's party with great vigor and put them to
flight, at the firing of a few scattering shots. Tessier and his men being on the extreme
right, and unable to reach the road before the British had occupied it, were compelled to fly
into the swamps, where many of them suffered great distress, and were unable to reach the camp
in the rear for many hours.

Meantime, Thornton, pushing forward with his main body, consisting of the Eighty-fifth, the
sailors and marines soon put Davis' detachment to flight, closely following on their heels. The
Kentuckians, being raw troops, did not of course, retreat in very good order. As they fell back
in great confusion on Morgan's lines, the general rode out, and meeting Col. Davis, directed
him to form his men within his lines on the right of the Louisiana militia. Davis obeyed the
order, but instead of the five hundred men Jackson had ordered across the river, there were but
one hundred to cover lines of three or four hundred yards. They were stationed some distance
apart, so as to present to the enemy rather the appearance of a line of sentinels than of a
continuous body of troops, to defend a small ditch and rude parapet. Insignificant as these
works were, if Morgan had received the necessary reinforcements, he would have been able to
maintain his position. Instead of six hundred, his real force, he would then have had nearly
one thousand men and three pieces of artillery

There was no lack of courage and determination on the part of Morgan and his command. They
stood firmly at their posts and prepared to repel the enemy with nerve and resolution.
Thornton, as he gained the open field in front of Morgan's works, extended the files of the
Eighty-fifth so as to cover the whole field, and, with the sailors formed in columns on the
road and the marines in reserve, advanced steadily on Morgan's lines. Lieutenant Colonel
Gubbons commanded the Eighty-fifth, Major Adair the marines and Captain Money the seamen.
The bugler sounded a shrill and animating charge, and amid a shower of rockets, under the
direction of Major Mitchell of the artillery, the British tars rushed forward. They were
received by a crashing discharge of grape from Phillibert's twelve-pounder, and two sixes under
adjutant John Nixon of the First Louisiana Militia, and gunner James Hosmer, and John Botigue.
The seamen recoiled from this fire. There was another and another fire from the batteries,
which killed and wounded several of the seamen. Among the wounded was their gallant commander,
Captain Money, who had been distinguished in the operations in the Chesapeake, and in the
attack on Washington City. He fell at the head of his men. At this the Americans began to
hurrah and ply their pieces more briskly. But Thornton, seeing the hesitation and recoil of the
seamen, rushed forward with the Eighty-fifth under a fire of musketry from Morgan's lines, and,
despite a severe wound received by him in the advance, succeeded in obliquing the storming
party toward the center of Morgan's line and strengthening it by a division of the Eighty-fifth
under Captain Shaw, whilst two other divisions of the Eighty-fifth advanced briskly against the
center and extreme right of Davis' position. Thus Thornton, showing a skill and judgment
superior to that which had been displayed on the left bank, occupied the whole front of the
American lines, while Roberts opened upon the Fifty-third batteries of Morgan's extreme left
with his caronades. As Thornton closed upon Davis' command, the Kentuckians, perceiving they
were about to be hemmed in between the division of the enemy, one penetrating the center and
the other the extreme right, fired one volley, and then, abandoning their position, began to
fall back in great confusion toward the road in the rear.

General Morgan made to the right, and called out to Colonel Davis to hold his men. Davis
replied that it was impossible. "Sir," exclaimed Morgan, in an angry tone, "I have not seen you
try," and then, turning to the fleeing Kentuckians, he shouted to them - "Halt, halt, men, and
resume your position."  At the same moment Adjutant Stephens, a brave Kentuckian who had been
badly wounded, cried out "Shame, shame! Boys stand by your General."  But the men were already
panic-stricken tnd unnerved, and moved rapidly and disorderly from the right toward the
roads, Morgan following them on horseback and endeavoring in every way he could to rally them.
He succeeded in bringing back some of the fugitives, but a shower of rockets falling in their
midst revived their alarm, and now they scattered, running as fast as they could toward
Morgan's left. Meantime the Louisiana militia kept up a brisk fire on the advancing British,
discharging eight volleys with great effect. But, their right being now uncovered, the British
hastened to rush over the Louisiana troops being now in danger of being intercepted - their
batteries having discharged their last cartridge, of which they had but twelve - they were
compelled also to abandon their position, which they did in tolerable order and under fire of
the enemy, after spiking their guns and tumbling them into the river. Patterson's battery on
the levee, some three hundred yards in Morgan's rear, had been constructed to daylight in an
incessant fire at the British in front of Jackson's position. Seeing that Morgan's line was
forced, Patterson had wheeled his guns around so as to command the road, when, perceiving
Davis' men running in wild disorder right upon a battery so as to cover the advance of the
British, and General Morgan so vainly striving to rally them, the gallant commodore, greatly
incensed at his countrymen, cried out to the commander of a twelve-pounder, which had been
brought to bear in that direction, to fire his piece into the "d____d cowards." The midshipman,
a half-grown youth, raised the match to apply it to the piece, when the order was
countermanded; and the commodore, perceiving that his battery was unmasked and exposed, having
recovered his calmness, directed the guns to be spiked and the powder thrown into the river. He
then abandoned his position and retired by the road, walking with Mr. R. D. Shepherd, his
volunteer aid, in the rear of his men, only thirty in number, and alternately denouncing the
British And Kentuckians. Patterson was followed by the Louisiana militia, who fell back in good
order until they reached the Louisiana, which had been moved about three hundred yards behind
Patterson's battery. The sailors being unable to get her off, the militia halted, and, by
fastening a hawser and foreline, succeeded in having her towed out into the stream beyond the
reach of the enemy, who would have been too happy to destroy this great plague, which had so
continuously harassed their camp.

Finally the Louisiana militia rallied at Casselard's, and forming on Boisgeveau's Canal
prepared to make a stand there, but the British never reached this position. After advancing in
excellent spirits, with a full belief that all had gone well on the other side of the river
they had barely reached Patterson's battery, when Col. Dickson of the artillery arrived direct
from General Lambert, with the crushing intelligence of the terrible disasters which had
crowned their efforts on the left bank. Previous to Dickson's arrival Thornton bad been
reinforced by several companies of sailors and marines, and he felt quite strong in his
position, but Dickson now declared that it could not be maintained; and hurrying back to
Lambert so reported, whereupon orders were transmitted to Thornton to retire from his position,
re-cross the river and join the main body. The execution of these various orders consumed the
greater part of the day. Meantime Jackson, greatly concerned at the state of affairs produced
by the events on the right bank, busied himself in reorganizing a force to throw across the
river to Morgan's relief. That force was placed under the command of General Humbert, who, but
for the unworthy jealousy of some militia officers toward a distinguished military hero of
foreign origin, would no doubt have recovered the lost ground and wiped off the disgrace of
Morgan's defeat. But the disinclination of the American militia to serve under Humbert, and
their lack of zeal in preparing to execute his orders, produced a delay which was not less
mortifying to the gallant Frenchman than unworthy of the Americans who displayed these petty
feelings.

After the wounded in front of Jackson's line had all been brought into his camp, and provided
with proper attendance, the men in Jackson's lines were ordered to resume their position, stand
to their arms, and be ready to repel another attack. Jackson was not the man to be carried
away by exultation and joy, so as to neglect the necessary precautions to secure his victory.
Indeed, he was as prudent as heroic.

About noon on the 8th, several Americans, who had advanced some distance in front of the lines,
announced the approach of a party from the British camp. It consisted of an officer in full
uniform, a trumpeter and a soldier bearing a white flag. The three advanced on the levee to a
position within three hundred yards of Jackson's lines, when the trumpeter blew a loud blast
and the standard bearer waved the white flag. The whole army now gathered on the summit of the
parapet, and looked on in anxious suspense and curiosity.  Jackson ordered Major Butler and two
other officers to proceed to the British party and receive any message it might bear. The
officer courteously received Major Butler, and delivered to him a written communication, which
that officer hastened to present to General Jackson, at his headquarters at Macarte's.  The
message contained a proposition for an armistice to bury the dead.  It was signed "Lambert,"
without any title or designation of rank. General Jackson directed Major Butler to state to the
officer bearing the message that he would be happy to treat with the commander-in-chief of the
British army, but that the signer of the letter had forgotten to designate his authority and
rank, which was necessary before any negotiations could be entered upon. General Lambert
had erred in thinking that a militia general and Indian fighter might be imposed upon by so
shallow a device, employed to conceal the fact of the death of the commander-in-chief. The
delegation with the flag of truce returned to the British headquarters, and in half an hour
appeared again before the American lines, with propositions now signed by "John Lambert,
commander-in-chief of the British forces."

The first proposition, as a basis for the armistice, offered by Jackson, embodied an admirably
sagacious stroke of policy. It was on these terms: That although hostilities should cease on
the left bank, where the dead lay unburied, until 12 o'clock on the 9th, yet it was not to be
understood they should cease on the right bank; but that no reinforcement should be sent across
till the expiration of that day. Such conditions produced the expected result: Lambert asked
until 10 o'clock on the 9th to consider the proposition. In the meantime he sent orders to
Thornton to retire. That officer covering the movement by an advance toward the American
position, set fire to the several saw mills in his rear, and, after destroying the ammunition
and stores which he had captured, retired in good order, his rear guard being, however,
pressed by an advance party of Americans, upon which they kept up a running fire. It was dark
before Thornton succeeded in crossing the river. That night the, Americans gained their lines
on the right bank, and by early morn Patterson had placed his battery in a more advantageous
position than it had previously occupied, announcing the gratifying fact to Jackson at daybreak
by a discharge of several large pieces against British outposts.

Disgraceful as the defeat on the left bank was, it is due to the Kentuckians who were the chief
actors in the affair, to remind the reader of the hard usage to which they had been subjected
and their long and fatiguing march during the day, and to their ill-armed condition.
Whether these facts will be sufficient to acquit them of all blame, or to mitigate the censure
freely bestowed on them for their conduct, are questions we feel no desire to discuss. It
should not be forgotten, however, with what promptitude and self sacrificing patriotism these
men had abandoned their distant homes and hurried at an inclement season of the year to the
defence of this remote settlement. It is hardly conceivable that such men should be faithless
to duty and honor, and the conclusion that their retreat was an unavoidable necessity is more
reasonable as well as more consonant to the pride and feeling of Americans. The Americans
achieved glory enough that day to bear with generosity the mortification inflicted by this
event.

To complete our narrative-not aggravate the shame of this disaster-it is necessary to state
that Morgan had but one man killed and five wounded. The British loss was much more serious.
The Eighty-fifth had two killed and thirty-nine wounded, including their colonel, and the
sailors and marines had four killed and forty-nine wounded, including Capt. Money. Several of
the wounded died before the detachment recrossed the river. The dead were buried in the plain
in front of Morgan's line. It was in this action the British acquired the trophy which is their
sole reward of achievements on this day. It is a small flag, which now hangs amid the trophies
of the Peninsular war in White Hall, London, with this description: "Taken at the Battle of New
Orleans, January 8, 1815."  There is as much appropriateness in such a record as there would be
in the French arraying in public a British regimental standard captured at Waterloo.

General Lambert consented to Jackson's proposition, early on the morning of the 9th. A line was
staked off about three hundred yards from the American entrenchments, and detachments of
soldiers marched from both camps, who were stationed from this line but a few feet apart, to
carry out the object of the armistice-the burial of the dead. The dead bodies, which were
strewn so thickly over the field, were then brought by the Americans to the lines, where they
were received by the British and borne to a designated spot on Bienvenu's which had been marked
off as the cemetery of "the Army of Louisiana." In carrying the dead the Americans used the
clumsy and unwieldy ladders intended by the British to be employed in scaling the American
parapet. Many British officers assembled to witness the ceremony. It was to them one of deep
mortification and sorrow. These feelings were increased by the presence of several American
officers, whose natural sang froid was misinterpreted into untimely exultation. This
misconception led the British officer from whom we have already derived so much information
into the following burst of feeling:

"An American officer stood by smoking a cigar and apparently counting the slain, with a look of
savage exultation, and repeating, over and over, to each individual that approached him that
their loss amounted to eight men killed and fourteen wounded. I confess that when I beheld the
scene I hung down my head, half in sorrow, half in anger. With my officious informant I had
every inclination to pick a quarrel; but he was on duty, and an armistice existed, both
of which forbade the measure. I could not, however, stand by and repress my choler; and since
to give it vent would I;ave subjected me to a more serious inconvenience, I turned mv horse's
head and galloped back to the camp."  The bearing of General Lambert's secretary, Major H. C.
Smith, of the Ninety-fifth Rifles, who met a soldier's death at Waterloo, was more manly and
philosophic, if less honest and sincere. Entering into a conversation with Captain Maunsel
White, a respected and honored planter and patriot, living on his magnificent estate (Deer
Range) in the parish of Plaquemine, Major Smith coolly remarked, looking very calmly upon the
scores of dead around him: "Oh! it is a mere skirmish-a mere skirmish." "One more such
skirmish," replied Captain White, "and devilish few of you will ever get back to tell the
story."

The bodies of the officers were first delivered to the British. Those of Colonel Rennie, Major
Whittaker, Captain Henly and Majors Williamson and King, being familiar to both officers and
men, were received with sorrowful and tearful silence. They were chiefs and heroes in the army
who left behind no superiors in that band of veterans, who had signalized their valor in many
combats and were ever among the foremost in all most perilous enterprises. Rennie was
particularly lamented, for throughout the operations on the Cbesapeake and in Louisiana he had
proved to be the most efficient light artillery officer, next to Thornton, in the army. The
dead officers were carried to headquarters and such as had friends to attend to the sacred
duties of securing - them Christian burial were interred at night, in Viller's garden, by the
light of torches, with appropriate religious ceremonies. Others were disemboweled and their
bodies deposited in casks of rum, to be carried to England. Such was the disposition of the
bodies of Pakenham and Gibbs, and we believe of Colonels Daly and Rennie. But the remainder of
the dead, including hundreds of officers and men, were hastily and imperfectly buried in the
rear of Bienvenu's plantation. The spot thus consecrated has never been invaded by the plow or
spade, but it is regarded to this day with awe and respect by the superstitious Africans
and is now occupied by a grove of stunted cypress, strikingly commemorative of the disasters of
this ill-fated expedition.

In establishing the loss of the British in this disastrous affair, we are met by several
conflicting statements. Between these various estimates it is not, however, difficult to form
an approximate calculation, which will not fall far short of the reality. That estimate
will show that the loss sustained in the attack on the left bank of the Mississippi was the
severest ever sustained in any battle by the British army. Deducting the reserve, Lambert's,
which was not under fire, the Fourteenth Dragoons who guarded the camp and hospital, and
Thornton's command, there could not have been more than six thousand men engaged in
the attack on Jackson's line. Of those, according to the estimate of Colonel Hayne, who was
designated by Johnson for this duty, there were at least twenty-six hundred placed hors de
combat, to-wit: killed seven hundred, wounded fourteen hundred, prisoners five hundred. The
British reports do not vary essentially from this report, except in the statement of the
killed, which, in the regular British returns, only embraced those who were killed on the
field, and not those who died shortly after being carried off.

Closing Incidents of the Great Battle.- Our task is almost finished. The great battle has been
fought, the dead have been buried, and gloom and silence have settled over the field now
forever classic in American history. In sorrow, misery, shame and dejection the British have
withdrawn further off from the scene of the most dismal disaster their arms had ever
encountered. Every house within miles along the river is occupied with their wounded, and the
labors of their surgeons incessant and herculean. But worse even than wounds, physical agony
and sickness is that torment of "the mind diseased," for which there is no minister - the
consciousness of defeat and disgrace that has entered the soul of those hitherto victorious
veterans. These feelings alternately prostrate the victims into a deep, silent gloom, or break
out in fierce and fiery denunciation of those whom their passions selected as the scapegoat, of
their disgrace.

The poor Forty-Fourth came in for the chief share of the malediction. It had failed in its
duty. It had not brought up the ladders and fascines. And even when the heroic Pakenham at last
took the regiment out of the hands of its imbecile colonel, it had flinched. So great was this
indignation that the other regiments would not associate with any officer or private wearing
the uniform of the Forty-fourth. Was this just or honorable? That Colonel Mullens should have
obeyed at all sacrifices the orders given to him, there can be no question; but this
disobedience was not even a cause, much less a prominent one, of their defeat. The order was
neither a just or wise one. To require a whole regiment to stack its arms and bear ladders for
the rest of the command was unusual and inequitable. This duty ought to have been imposed upon
detachments, from the various corps, as the forlorn hope is organized. But of what avail would
have been the prompt execution of this order? The ladders and fascines were not necessary to
pass the paltry ditch and scale the insignificant parapet of the Americans. A robust man could
have nearly leaped from the field to the mound behind which the Americans stood.

The British must have imagined that they had walls to mount like those of Badajoz and St.
Sebastian. Their great difficulty was to reach the ditch; they could never have used their
ladders and fascines; if, instead of the Forty-fourth, every private in their army had borne
them. They were shot down before reaching, the ditch. The fascines and ladders only impeded and
harrassed them. With their heavy knapsacks, these unwieldy articles only made them surer game
for the Tennessee marksmen. Colonel Mullens and the Forty-fourth were not, therefore, the
cause of their repulse; the true cause was the skillfulness of the American militia in the use
of fire-arms; such was the sagacious conclusion of an eminent French soldier who visited the
field many years after. It was the Marshal Count Bertrand Clausel, the same who had commanded
the French division at Salamanca, which Pakenham had routed. Settling in Mobile, Alabama, this
distinguished soldier, who figured so conspicuously on so prominent an arena, who had commanded
at Bordeaux during the hundred days and to whom the Duchess of Angouleme surrendered as
prisoner; now, with the characteristic philosophy of Frenchmen, became an humble gardener, who
furnished the market of Mobile with vegetables, driving his cart himself. Conceiving a desire
to behold the field of the defeat and death of his old and victorious foe, he visited New
Orleans in 1820, in company with the celebrated Count Desnoeltes, Napoleon's faithful companion
in the retreat from Moscow, the same whom the Emperor selected on his affecting departure from
Fontainebleau, as the dearest of all his friends.

These gallant and distinguished Frenchmen, being escorted to the battle field of the 8th of
January, 1815, by some of their countrymen who had participated in that affair, were puzzled to
know how such good soldiers as the English could be repulsed by so weak a force from such
trifling fortifications.  "Oh!" exclaimed Marshal Clausel, after some moments of reflection, "I
see bow it all happened. When these Americans go into battle they forget that they are not
hunting deer or shooting turkeys, and they try to never throw away a shot." And there was the
whole secret of the defeat which the British have ascribed to so many different causes. It is
the agility with which the Americans wield every species of fire-arms, and the habit of cool,
steady aim, which renders them so destructive in battles where they are not restrained or
confused by any military maneuver or exigency.

It is no part of our design to give all the details of the events which followed the battle of
the 8th; nor shall we turn aside to engage in those unprofitable discussions growing out of
subsequent events, to which some writers and politicians have assigned prominent places in the
drama. They will be barely glanced at.

The British were not left long to their gloomy reflections and bad passions. The American
batteries again resumed their task of incessantly annoying the hostile camp, firing at every
knot of men that could be discerned in the British camp, and keeping their sentinels and
outposts constantly on the guard, dodging and ducking as the balls flew round them. Prominent
among those, who were most active and earnest in this annoyance to the British was Commodore
Patterson, who relieved himself of the disgust and indignation which had been created in his
bosom by anuninterrupted fire at the British camp from a new battery he had thrown up in
advance of Morgan's position.

Save those regular and customary salutes of the British camp by the various batteries on both
sides of the river, nothing of great interest occurred until the 11th, when the curiosity of
the Americans was aroused by the distant rumbling of artillery far down the river. It was
soon understood that this was the expected attack on Fort St. Philip, a fortification on the
left bank of the Mississippi, about eighty miles below the city and some thirty miles from the
mouth of the river. The fort, which was a rude, irregular work, stood in the bend of the river
so as to have a long sweep above and below it. It was surrounded by an impenetrable morass, and
on the lower side bv the Bayou Mardi Gras. There were twentynine guns mounted in the fort, of
which there were two thirty-twos established in the curtain of the fort, on a level with the
river.  The others were twentyfours, one thirteen-inch mortar, and several howitzers. The fort
had been in preparation some months before Jackson visited it in December, perceiving its vast
importance and great strength, he gave orders to have certain additions made to it. Several
detachments of troops were sent down to reinforce the garrison.

A number of negroes were employed to bring in timber and perform other work necessary to the
solidity and strength of the fort. Among other sagacious preparations, the magazine was
completely disguised, and several smaller ones established in various places. The garrison
consisted of two companies of United States artillery, one hundred and seventeen, under
Captains Wolstoncraft, Murray and Walsh; two companies of the Seventh Infantry, one hundred and
sixty-three, under Captains Brontin and Waide; Lagan's Louisiana Volunteers, fifty-four; and
Listeau's free men of color, thirty; in all three hundred and sixty-six. To those are to be
added the crew of the gun-boat, No. 8, which had been hauled into the bayou. The whole force
made four hundred and six effective men, under that stanch and able officer, Major Overton, of
the rifle corps. Below, a guard was established, to watch and announce the approach of the
enemy.

It manifests a palpable want of combination and military skill in the British general that
their plan of advance upon the city was not so arranged as to secure posscssion of the river
before their land troops occupied its banks. It ought to have occurred to them that their flank
Would be exposed in case that the Americans had command of the river, as they must necessarilv
have vessels which could be easily converted into floating batteries to harass and impede, if
not to arrest, their advance. This error was brought home to them very painfully by the
sudden and destructive volley of fire into their camp, on the night of the 23d, by the
Carolina. Whether orders had been issued to the vessels, which undertook to ascend the river to
cobperate with the army, or they were proceeding on their own account, we are unable to say.
But it is certainly true that these vessels did not appear off the Balize, where the British
had previously established themselves, until the 8th, and did not come within sight of the
obstacle to their progress up the stream until noon of the 9th. Overton's guard boat hastened
to announce the arrival to the fort. The vessels consisted of two bomb-ships, the Herald, sloop
of war, the Sophia, a brig, and a tender. Small as this squadron was, had it arrived at
Pakenham's camp and in time to cooperate in the attack on Jackson's line, or even had it
arrived after that event and before the evacuation by the British, the consequences might have
been very serious to the American arms. But they were not destined to surmount so easily the
obstacle then in their path. Overton prepared to give them a warm reception.

Cunningham, of the gun-boat, with his sailors, took command of the Thirty-second: Walsh
commanded the right position, Wolstoncroft the center, and Murray the left. The infantry tinder
Brontin stood in the rear of the curtain to support the batteries, and act as occasion might
require.

At three P. M. the bomb-vessels, approaching within a mile and a half of the fort, as if to
sound the left battery, opened on, them; they then retired beyond the range of the fort's guns,
and, anchoring behind a point of land three thousand seven hundred and sixty yards from the
fort, turned broadside toward it, and running up their flags commenced the action. Their first
shell fell short. The next went over the fort, and the other which followed fell into the soft
earth, bursting, so deep in the ground as to create only a tremulous motion.

The vessels remained some distance below the bombs. The bomb-ships threw their shells all
night-one shell every two minutes-at the fort, but without effect. At night they reconnoitered
in small boats, and came so near that their men could be heard talking. The wind was then
blowing up the river. The garrison were too intent upon the vessels to have noticed these
boats. During the ioth and 11th the bombardment was continued, the fort firing a few shots to
keep up the spirits of the men, but without effect. On the 11th the flag staff was struck by
several fragments of shell and the flag was nailed to the halyards; another shell severed
them and down it came. An hour was consumed in restoring the flag, which was gallantly done by
a sailor, over whose head several shells burst while sitting on the cross-tree making fast the
flag. The contractor's house was mistaken for the magazine and struck, killing one man and
wounding another. On the 12th, 13th and 14th the firing was kept up incessantly, many shells
bursting over the fort, killing one man and wounding several others, and damaging one of the
thirtv-seconds. The men in the fort were busily employed and much exposed in repairing these
damages and strengthening the fort. In the meantime heavy rains fell daily, and the interior of
the fort was a sheet of water, and the men were constantly wet and almost frozen.

On the 13th, having received shells and ammunition from New Orleans, the fort opened its fire
and threw several shells over the bomb-ship. One of these took effect and created much
confusion on board. But on the 17th they began firing on the fort with more accuracy and lodged
several shells in the parapet, one of which burst in passing through the ditch into the angle
of the center of the basin. This was their farewell shot. The next day at early dawn their
ships were observed descending the river with all sail set. The garrison gave three cheers and
fired a volley as a salute to their foiled, mortified foe. This bombardment had been incessant
from the 9th to the 18th of January, during which they fired one thousand shells; being seventy
tons of iron and twenty thousand pounds of gunpowder, besides small shells. At least a hundred
shells fell w1thin the fort, damaging and battering the shops and stores and tearing up the
earth within and many yards around the fort.

Here was another able and decisive repulse of the British, which constituted an important link
in the defence of the city and reflected the highest credit upon the garrison and its gallant
commander, who, as General Overton, long resided in the northwestern part of Louisiana, one
of its most esteemed and honored citizens. There were other detached operations, which were
attended by like success.

Purser Shields, of the navy, a well known citizen of New Orleans, and Dr. Morrell, an esteemed
physician, headed a brilliant little affair against the British lines of communication on the
lake. It will be remembered that these gentlemen had been sent, after the battle of the
gun-boats, to the succor of the American wounded who were captured on the occasion. Arriving at
the time the British were preparing to land their troops, the vice admiral, Cochrane, thought
proper to detain them until the army had executed the design in which it was then engaged.

These gentlemen protested that they had come under a flag of truce, and that their detention
was a breach of the rules of war, but it was in vain. Finally, when the British had been
repulsed, they were released on January 12, and arrived in the American camp. During their
detention by the British, those gentlemen were very badly treated; their flag was not
respected; they were robbed of their clothes and other property; they were not permitted to see
their wounded countrymen; and the sailors of the boat that brought them to the fleet, were
compelled to work on the British boats. Such conduct was characteristic of Vice Admiral
Cochrane, who was a rough, brutal and overbearing officer. It may well be conceived that
high-spirited gentlemen, like Mr. Shields and Dr. Morrell, did not bear very patiently the
remembrance of the indignities to which they had been subjected in the British fleet. Hence, on
their arrival in Jackson's camp, they busied themselves in getting up an expedition by which
they might obtain some little satisfaction for their injuries and some compensation for their
exclusion from the honors and glories of the defence of the city. Organizing a little band of
volunteers, they proceeded with four boats, one having a carronade in its bows, out of the
Bayou St. John into the lake, and thence to the fort and encampment at Petites Coquilles. Here,
being reinforced by two other boats, they glided stealthily along the shoals of Lake Borgne,
toward the Rigolets, in pursuit of any stray boats of the enemy. On the 20th they perceived a
large barge, full of soldiers, on its way from the Bayou Bienvenu, and immediately the boats
commenced pursuit. The carronade being brought to bear on the barge, she quickly surrendered,
the men on board throwing their arms into the lake. It proved to be a British barge, having on
board thirty-seven British soldiers of the Fourteenth Dragoons, under Lieut. Brydges and Cornet
Hammond, who were on their way to the British squadron.

These prisoners were placed in charge of five armed men, and were conducted to the American
camp at Chef Menteur. Shields and Morrell then made another sortie and captured several boats,
a schooner and sixty-three prisoners, but, owing to a wind and high currents, their boats
became separated and the schooner unmanageble, and their prisoners refractory. So they
concluded to set fire to the schooner. The fire having attracted the notice of the British
boats, several of them approached her. Shields and Morrell landed near the mouth of the
Rigolets. The British attempted to cut them off by landing a party above them, but Morrell,
with a party of twenty men, having approached, suddenly opened upon them from the high reeds,
and after three volleys - caused them to leave in haste, finally, the party being in great
danger of capture from the British boats, which several times attacked them, but were beaten
off. Dr. Morrell, was sent over to Petites Coquilles for reinforcements. Shields, left alone
with the prisoners and a small guard, seeing a gun-boat in the distance bearing up toward him,
concluded that he would retire, and so, discharging his prisoners on parole, hurried to meet
Morrell and Newman, who were preparing to join him with a reinforcment at Petites Coquilles,
where he arrived safely with twenty-two prisoners. The results of this brilliant little
enterprise shows how much the British could have been annoyed if our gunboats could have got
under the fort of Petites Coquilles, on the 14th of December. There were other exploits
performed by detached parties. The glory and splendor, which many less brilliant campaigns
would have secured to those participating in them, are lost in the superior radiance of those
greater events that have rendered the defence of New Orleans, in 1814-15, the most complete and
brilliant campaign ih modern history.

On the 17th of January a cartel for the exchange of prisoners having been agreed upon, the i8th
was fixed for the pleasing ceremony of receiving some of the best citizens of New Orleans,
whose long detention in the British fleet had produced much anxiety among their friends. The
ceremony was a joyous and exciting one; a detachment of Plauche's battalion and the whole of
Beale's Rifles were formed in column, and, preceded by the splendid brass band of the
volunteers, marched, under Capt. Roche, to the line indicated near the British outposts, where
they were formed as if for review. Presently the American prisoners were escorted by a
detachment of the British Ninety-fifth Rifles, and the officers in command, saluting Captain
Roche, delivered to him a roll of the prisoners, which, being called out, all answered to their
names. Roche then called out, "Forward, Americans! " and the whole line advanced down the line
of the battalion under a salute. Open column was then formed, and the exprisoners, being placed
in front, the procession moved toward the American lines, the band playing a lively air. As
they approached the lines there was a simultaneous shout of joy from the whole American army,
and when they got within the entrenchment, there were hundreds of personal friends who rushed
forward to embrace and welcome them. Most of these ex-prisoners were leading gentlemen of the
city, who had been captured on the night of the 23d. Jackson sent for them, and on their
arrival at headquarters congratulated and complimented them in very warm terms.

Though it had been a source of great gratification to these gallant men to be absent from the
army during its great trial, their detention in the fleet had been rendered quite tolerable, if
not pleasant, by the kindly and courteous conduct of the British naval commander of the Royal
Oak, on which ship most of the prisoners had been detained, and by other naval officers. We
pass over many minor incidents of the campaign, in order to approach the great event which
relieved Louisiana of the presence of the foe that had so long desecrated her soil and
threatened her honor and safety.

After the battle of the 8th, Lambert was not long in arriving at the conclusion that the
expedition had signally failed, and all that was left to him was to collect the fragments of
the army and return as speedily as possible from the scene of so many sad disasters and painful
associations. With this view he proceeded with great prudence and caution in making the
necessary arrangements for the withdrawal of the army. As scores of his men were daily
deserting, he had reason to apprehend that his watchful foe would harass his retreat and omit
no opportunity to inflict further injury upon him. To retire as they had come, in boats, was
impracticable. There were not boats enough, and it would not be safe to divide the army in the
presence of an army emboldened by recent victories. To meet this exigency, he directed the
engineers to extend the road, which ran for some distance along the bayou, through the swamp to
the lake shore, keeping as near as possible to the bank of the bayou.

This was a very severe and difficult task, which occupied the engineers and strong working
parties for nine days. It was finally completed, and an apparently good road was made along the
bayou, crossing it by bridges of boats from the right to the left bank, until it reached an
elbow of the bayou, when the road took a direct course through the prairie, until it terminated
on the lake shore, near the Fisherman's village. This road was made of weeds, made up into
bundles and stamped down. But for the continued rains it would have been a very good way. At
the confluence of Bienvenu and Jumonville, and of the former with Mazant, small works were
thrown up to recover the retirement of the army. Having completed this road, the whole of the
wounded, except those which could not be removed, were placed in boats, then all the civil
officers, the contractors, surveyors, etc., together with all the field artillery, stores,
etc., followed, and were dispatched to the fleet. The large ship guns were spiked, their
cordages broken and then left on the field.

And now all that were left were the infantry. Having relieved himself of all his encumbrances,
Lambert prepared, on the night of the i8th, to steal off with his army. Accordingly, the whole
army was silently and stealthily formed in column; the engineer, sappers and miners in front.
The camp fires were lighted anew; the pickets were all stationed as usual; each sentinel was
prepared with a paddy to place in his stead; the pickets were directed to form, as the column
reached the bayou, into a rear guard, and follow the army. Thus, while darkness covered the
field, the army took up its line of march in silence and dread; not a cough or sneeze could be
heard in the whole column, and even their steps were so planted as to create no sound. Thus
they proceeded for some distance along the bayou in a pretty good road; but when they began to
diverge from the banks into the swamp, the continual tramping made the road very bad, and the
rear of the column had to march up to their knees in mud, with no other light but the faint
twinkle of the stars. This fine army, which but a few weeks ago had advanced along the same
road so full of pride and hope, now stealthily slunk through the dark, damp swamp, full of
alarm, shivering with cold, and depressed by defeat, hunger and exposure. They marched all
night, and just as the break of day began to relieve the surrounding darkness by a faint
glimmer of light, they reached the desolate shores of Lake Borgne, and drew up on its banks
exposed to a keen western wind that came across the broad surface of the lake. Nor did their
arrival here improve the spirits or prospects of the men. They were now sixty miles from the
fleet; suppose, from navy high winds or other causes, the boats should not arrive. They might
starve there for want of provisions, or die from cold, for there was no fuel but the dry weeds,
that burnt up like tinder.

Here the army remained in this desolate situation until the 29th, when the whole reembarked and
finally reached the fleet, with a few casualties and after much suffering and distress. This
retreat was the ablest feature of the campaign, and reflected great credit upon the commander
of the British and the discipline of the army. 

Sir Edward Pakenham. - A sketch of this ill-fated Englishman, whose hitherto brilliant life
went out on the field of Chalmette, must be of interest in every description written of the
famous battle of January 8, 1815, and is, therefore, given as a conclusion to this article.
The British army destined to capture New Orleans had been landed below the city, under command
of Gen. Keane, then quite a young officer. He had been sent to America second to Gen. Ross,
whose disgraceful and barbarous mode of warfare a short time previous, on the Atlantic border
and at Washington and Baltimore, had cost him his life. This clearly evinced that it was not
the intention of the British Cabinet to entrust Keane with so important an enterprise. Some
greater personage was hourly expected, and there, on the bleak and cheerless plain, the army
would be detained until he arrived to lead them into the city. It would be fortunate for the
military reputation of Gen. Keane if this suggestion of his friends were founded on fact.  It
would relieve him of a heavy load of censure, which has always attached to his military
character from the apparent want of decision, promptitude and military sagacity displayed
in his failure to advance, on his arrival on the banks of the Mississippi, and in his
inactivity after the battle of the 23d. These blunders were felt, acknowledged and discussed by
every soldier in the English camp, and, though excused and palliated by the patriots alluded
to, they produced a want of confidence in the General and a desire for some more experienced
and renowned chief to lead them.

Such a chief appeared in the British camp quite suddenly on the morning of that glorious
Christmas, and by his presence communicated relief, hope and even vivacity to the dejected
spirits of the army. This personage was no other than the Honorable Sir Edward M. Pakenham,
Lieutenant General and Colonel of the Seventh Foot (Royal Fusiliers), the brother-in-law of
Wellington and one of his most trusted commanders and bravest officers in the Peninsular 
campaigns. He was a son of the Earl of Longford, of the county Antrim, Ireland.  The family had
always been noted for military ardor and heroism, and had contributed several distinguished and
able commanders to both the army and the navy of Great Britain.

Pakenham did not owe his advancement to the influence of family and friends. He had fought his
way up, round by round, and marked each grade with some honorable wound, so that ere he had
reached the meridian of life and of military advancement his body was scrolled over with such
insignia of gallantry and good conduct. Few officers had encountered more perils and hardships,
suffered from more wounds. Enterirg the army as lieutenant of the Twenty-third Light Dragoons,
he soon rose to the rank of major. In the storming of the fort on the island of St. Jucie,
West Indies, in 1896, Major Pakenham volunteered to lead the attacking columns. The charge was
a brilliant and successful one, but the young leader was badly wounded, receiving a wound
through the neck. In the same neighborhood, in the expedition to Martinique, in 1806, having
been promoted to the command of that renowned regiment, the Seventh Fusiliers, he was again
badly wounded at the head of the Fusiliers.  During the Peninsular war he was in constant
service by the side of Wellington and General Picton. Toward the close of the war he was
appointed Adjutant General at the request of Wellington. Throughout the army of the Peninsula
he was admired and beloved by both officers and men. Space will not admit of a record of all
the brilliant actions in which Pakenham participated, but a few of the principal incidents in
his career may not be uninteresting to those who have been accustomed to regard him with
hostility and prejudice as the leader of an expedition which was neither honorable in its
design nor glorious in its conclusion.

The brilliant courage of Sir Edward Pakenham was never more conspicuously displayed than in the
horrible and bloody night attack of the British on the strongly defended walls and fort of
Badajos. On that occasion, the storming party was for some time mowed down in merciless
severity before any one of the soldiers could reach the walls. At last a few scattered men, who
had escaped, succeeded in planting their ladders against the walls. As fast as the men mounted
these ladders they would be shot down by the French soldiers on the parapet. In some cases the
ladders broke, and many of the British soldiers were precipitated below and impaled upon the
bayonets of their companions. Pakenham was the second man to mount one of the ladders, being
preceded by a gallant Highlander, Lieutenant McPhersrn, of the Forty-fifth. Both arrived
unharmed within a few rounds of the top, when McPherson discovered that the ladder was about
three feet too short. Still undaunted, the gallant young man called loudly to those below to
raise the ladders more perpendicular. While he with great exertion pushed it from the fall at
the top, the men with a loud cheer brought it quickly nearer to the base. This was so suddenly
done that McPherson was on a level with the rampart before he could prepare for defence. He saw
a French soldier deliberately point his musket against his body, and, without power to strike
it aside, he had to receive the fire. The ball struck one of the Spanish silver buttons on his
waistcoat, which it broke in half. This changed its direction and caused it to glance off, not,
however, before it had broken two ribs, the fractured part of one being pressed in on
his lungs so as to almost stop respiration. Still he did not fall, but continued to hold on by
the upper round of the ladder, conceiving that he was wounded, but ignorant to what extent. He
could not, however, advance. Pakenham strove to pass him, but in the effort was also badly
wounded, a French soldier firing a musket into his body at a distance of three or four feet.
Almost at the same time the ladder cracked beneath them. Destruction seemed inevitable. Before
them on the ramparts stood a line of French soldiers presenting their muskets; beneath, their
own friends, crowded together, formed a chevaux defrise of bayonets. Even at such a perilous
and awful moment, the presence of mind of these brave men did not desert them. Pakenham,
grasping the hand of the wounded McPherson, said, 11 God bless you, my dear fellow, we shall
meet again."  They did meet again, but not as Pakenham meant, for they marvelously escaped,
and, recovering from their wounds, were enabled to perform many acts of conspicuous gallantry
in the events which followed.

The command of the old "fighting third," the division of Wellington's army so famous for its
bearing under the lead of Picton, owing to the sickness of the chief, devolved upon Packham on
the eve of the battle of Salamanca. When Picton heard who was to command his division, he
observed, "I am glad he is to lead my brave fellows; they will have plenty of their favorite
sport." In this battle Wellington opened the fight by riding up to Pakenham at the head of the
third division, ordering him to move forward, take the heights in front and drive everything
before him. "Give me one grasp of that all-conquering hand," exclaimed the enthusiastic
Pakenham, who entertained for his chief a most chivalric and ardent attachment, "and I will."
How he redeemed this pledge is thus vigorously and graphically described by Alison: "It was
five o'clock, when Pakenham fell on Thormiere, who, so far from being prepared for such an
onset, had just reached an open hill, the last of the ridge over which he had extended, from
which he expected to see the allied army in full retreat to Ciudad Rodrigo and, closely pursued
by Marmon, defiling in the valley before him. To effect a change of front, under such
circumstances, was impossible. All that could be done was to resist instantly as they stood.
The British columns formed into line as they marched, so that the moment they came in sight of
the enemy, they were ready to charge. In an instant the French gunners were at their pieces,
and a cloud of light troops hastened to the front and endeavored by a rapid fire to evade the
formation of the troops behind. Vain attempt; right onward through the storms of bullets did
the British, led by the heroic Pakenham, advance; he light troops are dispersed before
them, like chaff before the wind; the half formed lines are broken into fragments; Durbon's
Portuguese cavalry, supported by Howey's English Dragoons and Arenschild's German horse, turned
their tright flank, scrambled up the steep sides of a bush-fringed stream, which flowed
behind the ridge, yet not at first in confusion, but skilfully, like gallant veterans, seizing
every successive wood and hill which offered the means of arresting the enemy. Gradually,
however, the reflux and pressing together of so large a body, by enemies at once in front and
in flank, threw their array into confusion; these were routed and driven among the fort.
Thormiere himself was killed whilst striving to stem the torrent; the allied cavalry broke
like a flood into the opening of the infantry, and his whole division was thrown back, and
entirely routed on Clausel's, which was hurrying up to its aid, with the loss of three thousand
prisoners." Of this brilliant action, Pakenham. was emphatically the hero, and for his
reward on this occasion was knighted.

Nor was Sir Edward Pakenham less distinguished for his honor, chivalry, and humanity than for
his courage and daring. As his name has been associated with the imputed design of sacking New
Orleans and perpetrating upon its peaceable population the most brutal and infamous excesses,
which design was embodied in the alleged war cry of the British army- "beauty and booty"-a cry
not inconsistent with the character which a portion of the army had acquired on the shores of
the Chesapeake, and in the Peninsular war, we take pleasure in referring to the antecedents of
Pakenham to refute all presumption that he was cognizant of, or would have given the slightest
sanction to, such disgraceful purposes. How he would have acted toward any of his command
who might have been implicated in such outrages may be inferred from his conduct in Spain,
when, entering a town in which certain French citizens had been outraged by some British
soldiers, he caused the latter to be hung on the spot, "thereby," says Napier, "nipping the
wickedness in the bud, but at his own risk, for legally he had not the power." Napier has
thought proper to add, with the commendable feeling of a soldier defending a brother in arms:
"This general whose generosity, humanity and chivalric spirit excited the admiration of every
honorable person who approached him, has been foully traduced by American writers. He who
was preeminently distinguished for his detestation of inhumanity and outrage has been, with
astounding falsehood, represented as instigating his troops to thernost infamous excesses."

Napier evidently is, in assuming for the commander a charge against many of his subordinates,
who, as may be proved by documents now extant, freely declared the predatory purposes of the
expedition. Besides, the circumstances of the enterprise, undertaken as it was whilst the
commissioners of both nations were engaged in negotiation to establish peace between the two
countries on a permanent and satisfactory basis, will ever give it a questionable character and
lead all impartial persons to believe that its main purpose was truly the appropriation of
the fifteen millions of the produce of the peaceful industry of the country, to the enrichment
of rude soldiers whose lives had been devoted to the destruction rather than to the increase of
the wealth of the world.  Gallant, generous and high-minded as he personally was, Packenham's
name and fame can not be considered as entirely free from the reproach which must have been
attributed to all those who were associated in an expedition prompted by such motives.
Certainly Sir William Napier would not deny what the pages of his now incomparable history so
abundantly proves, that the British soldiers were not only capable of, but prone to, the
excesses which it has so often been charged were to follow the capture of New Orleans.
Frequently, in the towns in the Penisula, the Spaniards found better protection from their
enemies, the French, than from their allies, the British soldiers. The actors in the scenes at
Cumberland Island, at Hampton, Alexandria and Washington City; the incendiaries of libraries,
of printing presses, of private property of every description; the mutilators of public
monuments, conld hardly complain if suspected of too strong an appetite for the rich booty
which was heaped up in the great depot of the valley of the Mississippi.

This charge against the originators and projectors of the expedition to New Orleans, as one for
plunder and spoil, is too well established now to be questioned. British testimony alone is
sufficient to prove the truth of these allegations. This may not be an inappropriate place to
quote a few authorities from that source. Major Cook, of the British Forty-third, who was
engaged in the expedition to New Orleans, and has written a lively work on this campaign, which
has been well received in England, says: "Notwithstanding all these natural drawbacks the city
of New Orleans with its valuable booty of merchandise was craved by the British, and they
planned to grasp the prize by a coup de main." In another place he remarks; "The warehouses of
the city were amply stored with cotton to a vast amount, and also sugar, molasses, tobacco
and other products of this prolific soil.

The author of the campaigns of the British at Washington, Baltimore and New Orleans says: "And
it appears that instead of a trifling affair, more likely to fill our pockets than to add to
our renown, we had embarked in an undertaking which presented difficulties not to be surmounted
without patience and determination."

A letter from Colonel Malcom, at Cumberland Island, to his brother the Rear Admiral in the
fleet, under Cochrane, which was intercepted by an American cruiser, expressing the hope that
the writer would soon hear of the capture of New Orleans, adds: "It will repay the troops for
all their trouble and fatigue."  Mr. Glover, a British employe, in a letter found in the same
package, to Capt. Westphall, mingles prescience and avarice in the following apprehension:
My forebodings will not allow me to anticipate either honor or profit to the expedition.

History, however, must acquit Sir Edward Pakenham of any motives or design of plunder or
brutality in accepting this command. It was, doubtless, in the discharge of what he deemed his
duty, and to gratify what he regarded an honorable ambition, that he came to assume the
governorship of Louisiana and with it the, earldom that was to reward this conquest of a
province which Great Britain had long entertained an ardent desire to possess. We do not
believe that the English government would have allowed Sir Edward's modesty or chivalry to
prevail over the necessity of supporting this new earldom by some moneyed allowance; nor
that they would have regarded it as at all improper to apply to that object a large share of
the fifteen millions of cotton and sugar then in the warehouses in New Orleans. If one of "the
greatest soldiers, Englishmen and Christians that ever lived," as Sir William Napier has
styled his distinguished relative, the conqueror of Scind, in a funeral oration delivered at
the burial of that heroic soldier (no less remarkable for its extravagance than its terseness),
did not sully his laurels by enriching himself out of the spoils, the treasures, the jewels and
precious metals of the subjugated Ameers, certainly this historian will not include us in the
class of American writers who have  "traduced" the memory and fame of Pakenham for intimating
that his successful entrance into the city of New Orleans would have supplied all those
deficiencies of fortune which too often mark the condition of meritorious younger sons of the
nobility of Great Britain.

With Sir Edward came as second in command, Maj. General Samuel Gibbs, colonel of the
Fifty-ninth Foot, a very active and experienced officer. He had greatly distinguished himself
in the East, and particularly in the storming of Fort Cornelius, on the Island of Java, and in
the Peninsular war. There were also several distinguished staff and artillery officers, who
came with Sir Edward Pakenham.

It has - since the death of the Duke of Wellington and the publication of his letters - come to
light, that the project was seriously discussed in the British Cabinet of placing Wellington at
the head of the expedition to New Orleans, and that he manifested no reluctance to undertake
the enterprise. In one of his letters published, he refers to the subject, saying he would
cheerfully accept the duty if it was imposed upon him; gives some very crude views of the
manner in which the war should be conducted, and declares his belief that the troops he had
seen embark for America at Bordeaux, in the summer of 1814, must be very badly handled if they
did not prove victorious in any contest in which they might engage. Fortunate decision of the
British Cabinet! Wellington was retained at home. The ministry, however, sent some of his
ablest lieutenants, upon whose brows the laurels of Spain were destined to be supplanted by the
cypress of Louisiana, to execute the plans of operations of their great chief. Ross had fallen
on the banks of the Patapsoc, and Pakenham was sent to take his place.

There was great rejoicing in the British camp over the arrival of Pakenham. Loud cheers rent
the air. Even salutes of artillery were fired in honor of the event. This joy and commotion
were quite perceptible to the American outposts, who soon ascertained the cause and
communicated it to Jackson. The next day the news flew through the American lines that a famous
British General - some had it the Duke of Wellington himself - had arrived in the British camp.
Henceforth, it was said, the operations of the British would be conducted with much more vigor
and power, and with more efficient forces and appliances than had been employed beretofore.
These stories, with all their exaggerations, did not appal the spirit or weaken the energies of
Jackson. Indeed, the only visible effect they produced was to communicate greater activity and
resolution to all his movements and measures for the maintenance of his position. Without
dismounting, for hours and hours he paced along the line of the Rodriguez Canal, encouraging
and inciting his men by every influence which he could use to labor in the rude intrenchment
which his engineers had drawn along the canal. "Here," he remarked to them in the frontier
style, "we shall plant our stakes, and not abandon them until we drive these red coat rascals
into the river or the swamp."

Pakenham, who had the eyes of a soldier, was not pleased at his first glance at the position of
his army. It did not take much time for him to comprehend all the perils and embarrassments
that environed him. Concealing his feeling and impressions, he assembled the chief officers
at Viller's house, where he established his headquarters.

There, in the parlor of the patriotic planter, who was then but a few miles off aiding in the
organization of the militia, who were daily dispatched to reinforce Jackson, met a score or
more of the most distinguished veteran officers of the Peninsular war to deliberate upon
the means of resisting and defeating a militia General, at the head of a force of raw militia,
inferior in number to their own gallant array of veteran and practised warriors. Many of them
had not seen their associates since they had parted in Spain; many, like the officers of
the Ninety-third, newly arrived from the Cape of Good Hope, had not met for eight or ten years.

But there was no time for congratulations or the interchange of friendly conversation. The
business before them was serious and pressing. Their consultation extended far into the night.
What then and there occurred must ever be a mystery, but enough leaked out to convince the
younger officers that Sir Edward was greatly dissatisfied with the aspect of affairs, and,
after receiving a full report of Keane's operations, entertained but little hope of achieving
the object of the expedition.  He perceived and lamented the original error of not advancincr
on the 23d. It is even said that he thought of withdrawing the army and attempting a landing in
another quarter. But that sturdy veteran, Sir Alexander Cochrane, who attended the council, was
of sterner stuff, and regarded the expedition as far from being defeated or foiled. If the
army shrank from the task, he would bring up the sailors and marines from the fleet, and storm
the American lines, and march into the city;" the soldiers could then," added the bitter old
Scotchman, "bring up the baggage."

The confidence of the old tar was happily illustrated by an authentic anecdote. One of the
British prisoners captured on the 23d of December stated to General Jackson that the Admiral
had sworn he would eat his Christmas dinner in the city. Jackson promptly replied, "Perhaps so;
but I shall have the honor of presiding at that dinner."

It was finally determined to advance and carry the enemy's entrenchments at the point of the
bayonet. The original error with regard to the number of the American force still clung to
them. Even then, when they had had the opportunity for observation, which their position
afforded, and when the Americans had but two small artillery pieces, and their entrenchments
were but just commenced, they neglected to advance with an army which exceeded by two or three
thousand that of Jackson's command. This, for the Americans, fortunate remissness, was all due
to the impression which Jackson had made on the minds of the British by his extraordinary and
brilliant attack on the 23d.

Pakenham, on assuming command of the army, changed its organization by forming two
organizations, or brioades, under the command of Generals Gibbs and Keane. How these brigades
were composed will appear hereafter. Early the next day, the 26th of December, Pakenham rode
out with his staff and generals to reconnoitre the American lines. As far as the eye could
reach along the plains which lay before him, he could perceive no evidence of any regular 
force opposed to him. The only living objects he could observe were bodies of horsemen,
galloping over the field in verv unmilitary fashion, apparently watching every movement in the
British camp, and now and then cracking away with their long rifles at the outposts and
sentinels. Then these stragglers would return leisurely to an old chateau, about long musket
shot from the British sentries, which appeared to be their general rendezvous.  These scouts
presented more the appearance of snipe and rabbit hunters, beating the bushes for their game,
than of soldiers seeking opportunity to annoy their enemy. It was a novel sight to Pakenham,
accustomed as he was to the formal and regular mode of conducting warlike operations of the
French and British armies.  

Beyond these, there was no other evidence of the presence of a hostile army. This mysterious
aspect in front served to increase the anxiety and embarrassment of the British general. The
movement of the irregular troops indicated the confidence of a powerful force strongly posted
in the rear as well as the audacity of the men who had been under fire and had tested the
horrors of war. They were no timid militiamen, like those who had offered so feeble a
resistance at Washington, or rather, in justice to the latter, many of whom were personally as
brave as any who ever shouldered a musket, we shall say there was unmistakable evidence of the
presence among them of a chief, who inspired confidence, courage and determination of all under
his command.

This observation satisfied Pakenham that he had but one course to pursue, and that was to carry
the enemy's lines, wherever they were, by storm. As soon as this resolution was taken, all
anxiety and care disappeared from his countenance. He immediately set to work to prepare
for the advance.

But before this could be done a serious obstacle had to be removed. Those terrible floating
batteries, the Carolina and Louisiana, still retained their position, anchored near the
opposite bank of the river, and kept up a continuous cannonading on the British camp. Wherever
a knot of British could be seen, a shower of grape would be thrown at them, with such accuracy
that they would be quickly dispersed and compelled to take shelter. Even those who took refuge
in the houses were not safe. Many a social party who met stealthily in some quiet little
negro hut, behind the chimneys, or in some nook of the larger houses, to enjoy a few comforts
and relieve the distress and tedium of their situation by a little conviviality, would suddenly
be intruded upon by cannon balls sent from one of Patterson's vessels, producing very
precipitate scattering of the party. It was impossible to form a column under, the fire of
these vessels. Orders were, therefore, issued to hurry up all the large cannon which could be
spared from the fleet, for the purpose of bringing them to bear upon the two formidable little
vessels. By incredible exertions, the chief labor being performed by the sailors, under
Cochrane and Malcolm, a powerful battery of twelve and eighteen pounders was brought up on the
night of the 26th and planted on the levee, so as to command the Carolina and Louisiana. See
account of the battle.

Southwest Louisiana Biographical and Historical, Note V., pp. 349-404.
Edited by William Henry Perrin.  Published in 1891, by The Gulf
Publishing Company.