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 THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
By C. C. HOTCHKISS. 
 
 For a Maiden Brave. 
 
 A Romance of the American Revolution. 
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The maddened officer aimed a blow at the defiant lad. 
 
 See page 12. 
 
THE LAND HERO 
 OF 1812 
 
 BY 
 
 CHAUNCEY C. HOTCHKISS 
 
 AUTHOR OF FOR A MAIDEN BRAVE, A COLONIAL 
 FREE LANCE, ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 1904 
 
 Cc^v^ 1 \ 
 
^^'^T' 
 
 ^H?-? 
 
 LiCRANY »* CONGRESS 
 Tvvo Oooies Recrtved 
 
 JUL 12 1904 
 ^ OoDyrtrht Entry 
 
 LA98 «- yxo. Na 
 
 COPY B 
 
 Copyright, 1904, by 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 Publishe^^^^e^'trmbft^ J§3^ 
 
Major ROBERT F. AMj:S, U.S.A. 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 
 BY HIS LIFE-LONG FRIEND 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 
PREFACE 
 
 There have been upward of two hundred 
 and fifty works devoted either entirely to the 
 life and acts of Andrew Jackson or treating 
 of the times in which he was a conspicuous 
 figure. And it is strange that those accounts 
 of him written while he lived or soon after 
 his death are of the least value as possessing 
 the least of truth. All his earlier biographies 
 are so colored by violent prejudice or un- 
 reasonable adulation as to be well-nigh worth- 
 less. 
 
 The late Mr. James Parton has done 
 more toward uncovering the facts concern- 
 ing the most unique public character the 
 United States ever produced than any other 
 writer, living or dead. He consulted every 
 work connected with Jackson, however re- 
 motely, corresponded with and interviewed 
 
 vii 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 scores of those who were able to throw light 
 on the life of the great man, and finally em- 
 bodied the results of his years of labor in 
 a volume of but little less than a million 
 words. 
 
 Those familiar with that extensive work 
 will recognize that the author of this book 
 has taken Mr. Parton's view of the character 
 of his hero. The story is temperate, un- 
 biased, and, according to the best sources of 
 information, as near the truth as such a work 
 can be. 
 
 Though the following pages were written 
 primarily for the young, they are not beneath 
 the notice of the more mature, and the writer 
 believes they have sufficient interest to hold 
 the attention of both. 
 
 C. C. H. 
 
 Guilford, N. Y., 
 September, igoj. 
 
 vni 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 Preface vii 
 
 I. — A FUGITIVE I 
 
 II.— A PRISONER II 
 
 III. — A PIONEER JUDGE 24 
 
 IV.— A DUELIST .36 
 
 v.— A FEUD ........ 49 
 
 VI. — In THE FIELD 62 
 
 VII. — A MUTINY 71 
 
 VIII.— Tahopeka 82 
 
 IX. — The end of the Creeks , . . .91 
 
 X. — Fort Bowyer 102 
 
 XI. — The battle iii 
 
 XII.— Pensacola 125 
 
 XIII. — The British land 134 
 
 XIV. — The night attack 147 
 
 XV. — The English advance 159 
 
 XVI. — The artillery duel 173 
 
 XVII. — Preparations . . . . . . . 183 
 
 XVIII. — The grand assault. ..... 190 
 
 XIX.— Progress .... 4 ... 205 
 
 XX.— Ambitions satisfied . • . . .211 
 
 IX 
 
i 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 The maddened officer aimed a blow at the defiant y' 
 
 lad Frontispiece 
 
 Scores of Indians plunged into the current. . . 96"" 
 A new flag was planted on the ramparts . . . I2i 
 From the roof of his headquarters he could view the 
 
 distant enemy 166 -^ 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A FUGITIVE 
 
 ** This way, Andy — this way ! We must 
 take to the slough or they will have us ! " 
 
 The speaker swung in his saddle and looked 
 at his brother, who, in turn, was looking at a 
 companion behind him, while still in the rear 
 there came thundering along the red road a 
 dozen or more men in scarlet uniforms in- 
 tent on capturing the three who were fleeing 
 before them. 
 
 Andy gave a shout and cut his horse with 
 the single old spur he wore, darting ahead of 
 the trio. The dust spun away from the fly- 
 ing hoofs in sharp spurts as the boys, for two 
 were boys and the third but little more, tore 
 along the road, casting frightened glances 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 over their bent shoulders. Those behind 
 were gaining. 
 
 The pursuing detachment belonged to 
 Lord Rawdon, who had been left in com- 
 mand of the British when Lord Cornwallis 
 with the bulk of the army moved north on 
 his way to his later fate, the surrender at 
 Yorktown. The time was in August, 1781 ; 
 the place, the Waxhaws in the Carolinas. 
 
 The three racing ahead were Lieutenant 
 Thomas Crawford ; his cousin, Robert Jack- 
 son; and the latter's younger brother, Andrew, 
 a fiery, overgrown, gawky lad of about four- 
 teen, destined to become the most unique 
 public character America ever produced — 
 lawyer, Indian fighter, general, governor. 
 President of the republic, and always hero. 
 
 Andrew was being roughly schooled to 
 future daring, and as he heard his brother's 
 cry and noted the rapid gaining of the pur- 
 suers, he turned his powerful horse from the 
 road and the three galloped across a broom- 
 straw covered field, and plunged into the 
 swamp beyond. It was tremendous work 
 
 2 
 
A FUGITIVE 
 
 even for the mighty animal Andrew rode, 
 and when, after a desperate struggle with the 
 sucking treachery of the mire, the horse stood 
 upon firm ground on the opposite side, he 
 was streaming with perspiration and trem- 
 bling from exhaustion. 
 
 The boy looked back. His brother was 
 out of sight hidden by the thick underbrush 
 of the swamp, but Crawford was in a tragic 
 plight. His horse, mired, had fallen, pin- 
 ning the lieutenant by the leg, and over the 
 prostrate officer stood a mounted dragoon 
 striking at the unfortunate man with a saber. 
 The fallen patriot made what faint resistance 
 he might at this disadvantage, parrying the 
 fierce blows with his own sword, but in a 
 moment more Andrew saw his cousin struck 
 down and immediately after became alive to 
 the fact that he was not yet out of danger 
 himself. 
 
 Having skirted the most treacherous part 
 of the morass, two troopers were bearing 
 down at full speed on the lad. He could 
 hear the jingle of metal against metal, and 
 
 3 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 see the drawn sabers flash in the sunshine of 
 the hot afternoon. 
 
 It could hardly be supposed that the 
 youth feared death at the hands of his pur- 
 suers, but he did not depend upon his tender 
 years to defend him. He had intended to 
 act the part of a brave man and meet the 
 enemy in a fair field, but the little company 
 of patriots the boy had but that morning 
 joined, and which had gathered to resist the 
 British, had been surprised and put to rout 
 before it had a chance to form and fight. 
 Even at the age of fourteen Andy was not 
 made of the stuff that cringes under defeat 
 or looks to policy for protection. He had 
 retreated because those older than himself 
 had retreated, and in the light of his after- 
 life, it is easy to suppose that he would have 
 shown a brave front to the two oncoming 
 dragoons had he been well armed. It might 
 make a brilliant page of romance to here de- 
 scribe a fight in which our hero triumphed or 
 fell gloriously wounded, but truth compels 
 the statement that Andy again stuck his sin- 
 
 4 
 
A FUGITIVE 
 
 gle spur into his horse and ran in fright or 
 from prudence, it is difficult to say which. 
 Into the tall pines that abounded he went and 
 soon lost his pursuers. 
 
 But he did not lose himself. Every deer 
 path, every brook (branches he called them), 
 every little savannah in the forest, was as 
 familiar to the boy as the sleeping-loft in his 
 mother's log house. Like a fox he wound 
 through the thickets, alone but not lonely, 
 making his way to a secluded spot where he 
 had agreed to meet his brother in case of 
 their separation. And there the two did 
 meet — refugees now, defeated and hunted, 
 and no dwelling might hold them in safety. 
 
 ** Bob, Tom Crawford's down ! " were his 
 first words as he tied his horse. ** Looks to 
 me as though he was done for, but, by the 
 Eternal ! I'll be even with those fellows 
 yet ! " 
 
 Robert said nothing, but his face wore a 
 dark frown, and he bit his lip. 
 
 ''What'U mother say?" were his first 
 words. 
 
 5 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 ** Say ! " repeated Andrew. " I don't know 
 what she'll say, but I know what she'll do ! 
 She'll hunt us up when she learns we ain't 
 caught ; and I wish she would. I'm 'most 
 starved — ain't had anything to eat since day- 
 
 light." 
 
 Let us look at the two lads as they stand 
 side by side, or rather, at the younger, for 
 of Robert Jackson's appearance history says 
 nothing. 
 
 Though a boy in years, and less than a 
 boy in girth, Andrew Jackson was a man 
 in height. He never became stout, but as a 
 lad he was like a lath, spare and erect, but 
 weak from the rapidity of his growth. His 
 face was long and sallow, with a decided 
 Scotch cast to his features, and around them 
 hung his long, untrimmed yellow-red hair. 
 Flis eyes were dark blue, honest, fearless, and 
 wide open. There was nothing repellent in 
 Andrew's face until those eyes showed the 
 piercing sparkle of anger; then he became 
 dangerous and stubborn past breaking. He 
 would have gone straight to ruin if necessary 
 
 6 
 
A FUGITIVE 
 
 to effect his purpose ; man or youth, no one 
 ever knew Andrew Jackson to back down 
 from a position once taken. He might be 
 beaten, but he was never known to surrender. 
 
 The boy was thin-lipped, square-chinned, 
 wide-eyed, long, and awkward, as he stood or 
 lay in the woods that night. A country lad 
 of the South, clad, like hundreds of others, 
 in shirt and breeches, and little else save 
 coarse shoes and stockings. Powder-horn 
 and bullet-pouch swung from his shoulder, 
 and his horse and rifle stood hard by. The 
 latter were his dearest possessions, and al- 
 most his only ones, for in those early days in 
 the South no boy of even the age of twelve 
 considered himself worthy of the respect of 
 his fellows if he did not own a horse and a 
 gun. How Andrew obtained them no one 
 living knows, but he was always a judge of 
 horseflesh and firearms, and never owned any 
 but the best of either. 
 
 The two boys spent the night in hiding. 
 The uncanny blackness of the wilderness 
 which chills a later generation was as home 
 
 7 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 to them. They were without a fire. As 
 having nothing to cook, it was not necessary ; 
 as a means of discovering their hiding-place 
 it would have been dangerous. Their sole 
 concern was that they had been put to flight 
 without striking a blow for their country, 
 and that they were hungry, as boys are likely 
 to be after twenty-odd hours of fasting. At 
 daylight they tightened their belts (probably 
 of rope), laid their heads together, and deter- 
 mined to leave their horses and arms hidden 
 in the woods, and themselves go to Craw- 
 ford's house, which was the nearest habita- 
 tion. Food had become an imperative neces- 
 sity ; they would risk much to obtain it, but 
 had they been a little older or wiser they 
 would have selected the night for their expe- 
 dition. 
 
 Crawford's house, like all houses in that 
 vicinity, was built strongly of logs ; but though 
 the lieutenant's home was humble, and his 
 wife, unaware of her husband's fall, carried 
 a newly born infant in her arms, the brothers 
 were warmly welcomed and fed, and here for 
 
 8 
 
A FUGITIVE 
 
 a few hours they rested and made plans for 
 the future. 
 
 Lord Rawdon's swift raid had quickly and 
 effectually subjugated the Waxhaw region, 
 but it had done nothing toward mitigating 
 the enmity between the Whigs, as the pa- 
 triots were called, and the Tories, or those in 
 favor of the British. Neighbor fought 
 against neighbor, and friendships were 
 strongly marked by party lines. There was 
 one man who had been intimate with the 
 Jacksons in the days of peace, long before, 
 but the fiery dissensions of the hour had got 
 into his blood, and though he pretended to 
 be a stanch Whig, he was doing all in his 
 power to direct the British troops against the 
 patriots. An underhanded coward was he ; 
 too timid to take the field openly, but apt 
 and active in spying and treachery. His 
 name is lost to history. He, of all those 
 about, alone knew of the escape of Robert 
 and Andrew Jackson. With a perfect knowl- 
 edge of the haunts and habits of the lads he 
 tracked them to their lair in the forest, and 
 
 9 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 from there to Crawford's house, and thinking 
 that he could now strike a final blow at his 
 unsuspecting neighbors, he hurried to the 
 British encampment, but a few miles away, 
 and lodged his information with the officer 
 in charge of the troops. 
 
 Though Andrew lived to be an old man, he 
 never forgot that day. While the boys were 
 eating their scanty dinner the alarm was 
 given that the British were coming. They 
 sprang to the door, but it was then too late to 
 attempt to escape from the house, and to 
 hide within it was impossible. They were 
 surrounded; the doors were beaten down, 
 and the two were at last in the hands of the 
 enemy, prisoners of war, they thought, but 
 the British thought otherwise. 
 
 lo 
 
 J 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 A PRISONER 
 
 In those days there was no code or agree- 
 ment between nations to regulate acts of un- 
 necessary cruelty toward prisoners, and by 
 the wild glee of the British soldiers one 
 might have thought that the two unarmed 
 youths who had fallen into their hands were 
 fair game for them, important captures and 
 prime movers in the war, whereas neither 
 had yet struck a blow or fired a shot. With 
 unusual violence the dragoons vented their 
 venom against the house and its inmates. 
 Every species of outrage was practised in 
 that lonely dwelling. Mrs. Crawford was 
 brutally beaten, the child she held stripped 
 of its clothing, the crockery wantonly 
 smashed, the bedding and furniture demol- 
 ished. The two young prisoners, struck and 
 sworn at, stood looking at the scene of inex- 
 
 11 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 cusable destruction, helpless to prevent it, but 
 the spirit of neither had been broken. When 
 the place was sufficiently wrecked, the officer 
 in charge of the dragoons pulled off his 
 muddy boots, and throwing them at Andrew, 
 ordered him to clean them. The boy 
 flushed to the roots of his yellow hair, but 
 did not move. 
 
 ** Clean those boots, ye young hound!'* 
 shouted the officer, pointing at them with his 
 drawn sword. 
 
 " I am a prisoner of war, sir," returned 
 Andy, ** and expect to be treated as such. I 
 will not clean your boots nor the boots of 
 any he ! " 
 
 The maddened officer swore a great oath, 
 and raising his saber, aimed a blow at the 
 head of the defiant lad. With a quick sense 
 of his danger, the boy threw up his arm to 
 protect himself, thereby probably saving his 
 life. The heavy steel descended, cutting the 
 arm to the bone, driving down the slight 
 guard and laying open the scalp for eight 
 inches. Andrew dropped senseless, and the 
 
 12 
 
A PRISONER 
 
 now infuriated man turned on Robert and 
 repeated the order. As brave as his brother, 
 Robert likewise refused, and in a moment 
 more lay on the floor beside Andrew. 
 
 It has been stated in history that the offi- 
 cer's name was Pakenham, that he was of 
 high degree, having come to America to win 
 his spurs, and that he had royal blood in his 
 veins. This is hardly probable, as Paken- 
 ham was but thirty-eight in 1 8 1 5 ; but if the 
 error is in his age and the first statement is 
 true, it is to be hoped that he remembered that 
 day when, thirty-four years later, and on the 
 plains before New Orleans, he met the boy 
 he had once tried to kill, where he and his 
 army experienced the most terrific defeat, at 
 Andrew Jackson's hands, that an army ever 
 submitted to — a meeting that not only hum- 
 bled the knight, but caused his death. 
 
 Whether or no Pakenham ever forgot, 
 Andrew Jackson never did, for he carried a 
 reminder in the shape of a deep depression 
 in his skull. His fierce enmity for the Brit- 
 ish had its birth during the Revolution, in 
 
 13 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 which he witnessed such scenes and experi- 
 enced such cruelty as to forever after affect 
 his health and bias his opinions. 
 
 Undoubtedly the officer concluded that 
 he had effectually broken the spirit of the 
 youths who had refused to clean his boots, 
 but the gold-laced aristocrat knew as little of 
 the sturdy characters with whom he had to 
 deal as did the Parliament which had sent 
 him to America realize the impossibility of 
 subjugating the colonies. 
 
 When Andrew recovered his senses, which 
 he soon did without help, he was ordered to 
 mount a stolen horse and guide the squad to 
 the house of one Thompson, a stout Whig 
 partizan whose capture was greatly desired 
 by Lord Rawdon. Sick and sore, with his 
 wounds undressed and bleeding, but still 
 kept up by the fierce rage gnawing at his 
 heart, Andrew crawled into the saddle, ap- 
 parently humbled into obedience, but with a 
 firm determination to save his friend if pos- 
 sible. Threatened with instant death if he 
 led the party astray, he set out in an opposite 
 
 H 
 
A PRISONER 
 
 direction from Thompson's house, and guided 
 the dragoons over miles of intricate for- 
 est paths, tiring their horses while working 
 around to his destination, so as to come in 
 sight of his friend's dwelling while yet more 
 than half a mile from it. He well knew 
 that the watchful patriot always had his 
 horse in readiness for an escape at the first 
 sight of the enemy, and by entering the clear- 
 ing on the side farthest from the house, he 
 hoped Thompson would have sufficient 
 warning. 
 
 And so it proved. As the squad broke 
 from the forest and charged forward, An- 
 drew had the satisfaction of seeing the hunted 
 man rush out, throw himself upon the horse 
 standing by the door, wave a defiance at the 
 oncoming British, and plunge his animal 
 into the swollen creek that ran hard by ; then 
 with a shout he disappeared into the forest 
 on the opposite side. Whether the dragoons 
 were afraid of the foaming waters, or their 
 horses were too fatigued to pursue, is not 
 known, but it is known that they then and 
 
 15 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 there gave up the chase and returned to camp 
 tired and unsuccessful. Andrew's trick was 
 not suspected. 
 
 But the knowledge that he had saved his 
 friend was all the satisfaction the boy re- 
 ceived. Without having theirwounds dressed, 
 without rest, food, or even water, the two 
 brothers, together with Crawford, who had 
 been brought in hurt but alive, and some 
 twenty other prisoners captured during the 
 previous day, were mounted, and the whole 
 force, with its captives and booty, started for 
 the British post at Camden, S. C, forty 
 miles away. 
 
 The treatment the prisoners received was 
 inhuman. Not a morsel of food was allowed 
 them ; not even during a halt were they 
 permitted to scoop up the water by the road- 
 side to quench their thirst. On arriving at 
 Camden they were all penned in the jailyard, 
 a small enclosure, and left to live or die with 
 no more attention than cattle in a corral. A 
 small ration of the coarsest food was here given 
 to them, but they were robbed of their shoes. 
 
 16 
 
A PRISONER 
 
 Exposed to a fierce southern sun during 
 the day, and unsheltered from the chills of 
 night, such treatment naturally resulted in 
 sickness. Presently the smallpox, the scourge 
 of that day, broke out among the prisoners, 
 and soon raged. Nothing was known of 
 vaccination at that time, and nothing was 
 done to stay the ravages of the disease ; in 
 fact, no more attention was at first paid to 
 the sick than to the well. At last, through 
 the protestations of Andrew, the attention of 
 an officer was called to the deplorable condi- 
 tion of the captives, and at length they were 
 provided with shelter, and their food was 
 bettered in quality and quantity. 
 
 Neither of the brothers had as yet been 
 infected with smallpox, but the day finally 
 came when they both sat shivering in the hot 
 sun, and knew they had fallen under the 
 hand of the dreaded and filthy malady ; and 
 here they would have died had it not been 
 for Mrs. Jackson, who, true to Andrew's 
 estimate of his mother, hunted up her sons. 
 When she learned of their capture, and later 
 
 17 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 of their whereabouts and condition, she 
 started for Camden. Some say she made 
 the whole forty miles on foot, but, be that 
 as it may, she arrived to find both her boys 
 reduced to such an extent that she did not 
 know either of them. 
 
 With a woman of energy who has pure 
 love for a motive all things are possible. By 
 a mixture of tact, appeal, and threat, she 
 finally succeeded in getting five of the 
 patriots, besides her sons, exchanged for thir- 
 teen British dragoons who had been captured 
 in the Waxhaws, and with the rescued party 
 she started homeward. There were but two 
 horses. Mrs. Jackson rode one, and Robert,^ 
 too sick to hold himself upright in the 
 saddle, was placed on the other, and held 
 from falling by those who walked beside 
 him. Andrew, though suffering and half de- 
 lirious, was compelled to walk or be left be- 
 hind, and he started out, buoyed by that 
 indomitable will that marked his whole life, 
 and enabled him to drag success from seem- 
 ing failure. 
 
 18 
 
A PRISONER 
 
 The forty miles of the then wilderness 
 that lay before him was one long-drawn tor- 
 ture to the tottering boy, but he bore up 
 and staggered along, never far in the rear. 
 With what speed the party progressed there 
 is no knowing, but without abatement the 
 smallpox went on through its successive 
 stages until the disease was manifested in 
 a multitude of pustules. By this time the 
 little band had arrived at a point very near 
 the Waxhaws and hoped for home and rest 
 within a few hours ; but the fair weather, 
 which had so far attended the journey, here 
 left them, and while almost in sight of their 
 haven they were overtaken by a cold and 
 drenching rain-storm. Cold and wet are the 
 best friends of smallpox, and the result of 
 the chill and storm was fatal to one of the 
 brothers. Though they reached home, Rob- 
 ert soon left it forever, for, as a result of ex- 
 posure, added to hardship, he died in two 
 days, and Andrew, crazed with a wild delir- 
 ium, was considered to be in a hopeless con- 
 dition. Had not youth and a wonderful 
 
 19 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 vitality, together with good nursing, been on 
 Andrew's side, he would undoubtedly have 
 followed Robert, for in those days there was 
 little or no medical skill outside of the larger 
 cities. The widowed mother who had seen 
 one son, her eldest, die in battle at a date 
 prior to the opening of this story, and an- 
 other pass away as a result of cruelty and neg- 
 lect, fought for the life of her remaining 
 boy as only a stricken woman can fight. She 
 won, and Andrew at last turned his back on 
 death, but so far had he gone on his way to 
 the grave that there was but little left of the 
 lanky youth, who, in his best days, never 
 carried the flesh belonging to the average 
 man, though he was far above the average 
 height. For months he was an invalid, and 
 at one time it seemed likely that he would 
 never recover from the shock of his experi- 
 ence; but the same indomitable energy which 
 later enabled him to sway multitudes of his 
 fellows, again helped him out of extreme 
 physical depression, and presently his health 
 improved and his old vigor returned. 
 
 20 
 
 J 
 
A PRISONER 
 
 But for all his hardships he was still a 
 boy. Experience alone, and of the sort he 
 had known, did not ruin the spirits of An- 
 drew Jackson. He was mischief personified, 
 and his mischief was like himself — of the 
 vigorous kind. One can not speak in praise 
 of his youthful habits. He swore — and 
 swore hard. He drank, he gambled, raced 
 horses, fought cocks, entered into a quarrel 
 with wonderful gusto, and did other things 
 equally bad, but there is no instance of his 
 lying, cheating, or stealing. In those wild 
 days frontier morals were lax ; brute force 
 swayed in most matters, and the popular 
 one was he who would go the farthest in 
 dissipation and daring, Andy excelled in 
 both particulars. His orgies were wild, his 
 courage he showed in numberless ways, 
 He was a skilful, daring, and hardy rider. 
 For all his gawky figure he sat on his horse 
 like a god and appeared to become a part of 
 the animal he rode. Few men have ever 
 equaled him in horsemanship — none ex- 
 celled him, and he never rode an inferior 
 
 3 21 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 animal if another could be had. From 
 youth to old age Jackson's love for horses 
 was proverbial. 
 
 Had his mother lived it is probable that 
 the boy would have led a steadier and more 
 wholesome life, but soon after Andrew's 
 recovery from the smallpox Mrs. Jackson, 
 encouraged, perhaps, by the success of her 
 mission to Camden, journeyed to Charleston 
 for the purpose of lessening the horrors of 
 the American soldiers there held in captiv- 
 ity. Though partly successful in this ven- 
 ture, little is known of it ; all that is certain 
 is that on her way home she sickened with 
 the putrid, or ship fever, and died in the 
 house of a friend. 
 
 And so before Andrew was fifteen years 
 old he became an orphan. Though not 
 without friends, he was without money or 
 property of any kind. He was also without 
 prospects, and without more education than 
 that picked up in an " old field school," the 
 latter being the simplest of log huts, built 
 on exhausted land, the teacher having only 
 
 22 
 
A PRISONER 
 
 enough knowledge to impart a smattering 
 of reading, writing, spelling, and arithmetic. 
 Andrew never learned to spell correctly, but 
 he lived at a time when few men did. His 
 thoughts were forcible and well expressed, 
 as a rule, but they were embodied in correct 
 writing by other hands than his own. He 
 openly acknowledged this weakness, but 
 usually turned the matter off with the re- 
 mark that he did not think much of a man 
 who could spell a word in but one way. 
 
 Here was a poor equipment for a youth 
 who must needs face the world. Nine hun- 
 dred and ninety-nine out of a thousand, 
 under these circumstances, would have de- 
 generated into mere loafers or farm hacks, 
 but Andrew Jackson was the one thousandth, 
 and his wonderful rise from abject poverty 
 and crass ignorance to a pinnacle of fame 
 shows that a favorable start with influence 
 and education are not to be compared to 
 will, energy, or well-balanced determination. 
 
 23 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A PIONEER JUDGE 
 
 There are no means of telling where 
 or how Andrew made his first money. We 
 know that after the war he appeared in 
 Charleston, S. C, without employment, but 
 with a magnificent horse and some ready 
 cash, which last he promptly dissipated in 
 wild living and became indebted to his land- 
 lord for the food he ate. Just here came 
 the turning-point in his life. 
 
 Having exhausted all his resources save 
 that he still kept his horse, a thing every 
 gentleman was compelled by custom to do, 
 and having squeezed dry the rag of city life, 
 he desired to return home, but was without 
 a cent for traveling expenses. In this pre- 
 dicament he happened to enter a room 
 where gambling was going on by the usual 
 method of throwing dice, and very possibly 
 24 
 
A PIONEER JUDGE 
 
 thinking sorrowfully of all the mone)^ he 
 had thus thrown away, in a fit of despera- 
 tion he staked his fine horse against $200, 
 determining that in case he lost he would 
 give his landlord his saddle and bridle in 
 part payment of his debt and make his way 
 homeward on foot. His heart was in the 
 game when once he had embarked. His 
 opponent threw and threw high. When it 
 was Andrew's turn he took up the cup, 
 shook it and sent the ivory cubes dancing 
 over the table. He could scarcely credii: 
 his senses when he saw he had won, but 
 without a word he picked up the stakes and 
 left the room without as much as a good- 
 by to his comrades. This was Andrew 
 Jackson's last game of chance for money. 
 He never gambled again ; but he had paid a 
 mighty price for his lesson. 
 
 With his winnings he promptly settled 
 his debts to the last cent and rode home- 
 ward, evidently determined to waste time 
 no longer, but make something of him- 
 self. The ride was long, but it was full of 
 
 25 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 thougths of purpose that took form, and 
 with our hero to purpose was to do. He de- 
 termined to study law, and study law he did, 
 as he did everything, but he interspersed his 
 dry law lessons with bursts of revelry that 
 were neither praiseworthy nor dignified. 
 The old town of Salisbury, N. C, still bears 
 record of the gay spirits of the young law 
 student who pored over his books, when he 
 deigned to study, in the shanty-like office 
 of Mr. Spruce McKay, whose name is still 
 kept green by being connected with that of 
 his wild protdgd. When the young man 
 had absorbed all the legal lore he could as- 
 similate, he was examined, passed, and called 
 to the bar of North Carolina. 
 
 Andrew was not a profound lawyer, but 
 the law was never to make him great, though 
 through it he trod the path that led him to 
 greatness. He was now about twenty-one 
 years of age ; tall, standing six feet and one 
 inch in his stockings ; thin and straight. 
 He was never robust, but at that time he 
 was not ailing in health. He was homely, 
 
 26 
 
A PIONEER JUDGE 
 
 but his homeliness was that of strength, and 
 any one looking into the young man's face 
 saw at a glance that he was no nonentity but 
 a man of character. 
 
 It was no small matter for a lad as 
 poorly prepared as Andrew to make a living 
 and get an education at the same time. 
 The living was not high nor the education 
 deep, but such as was the latter it proved to 
 be the foundation on which he built his 
 fame. He was one who leaped in the dark» 
 depending somewhat on chance and some- 
 what on the fact that if he failed to land as 
 he hoped he would be no worse off than 
 though he had remained on the ground from 
 which he jumped, and so, after his license 
 was obtained, he made another leap and 
 landed in Nashville, in what is now the State 
 of Tennessee. 
 
 Having by some unknown means ob- 
 tained an appointment as public prosecutor 
 or solicitor for that far Western district, he 
 joined a party of settlers and rode through 
 the wilderness. The point to which he was 
 
 27 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 bound was then an outpost of civilization 
 and the country over which the band trav- 
 eled was swarming with hostile Indians. 
 It was in October, 1788, when Jackson ar- 
 rived among the settlers of Nashville, a 
 community with which he was forever after 
 identified. As a public prosecutor he was 
 not looked upon with favor, and the office 
 was both difficult and dangerous ; it might 
 have been fatal to one less popular or less 
 supplied with grit and determination, fatal 
 from the animosities he naturally created 
 among those who came under his official 
 hand, and fatal because of the long and 
 lonely rides through the dark forests on his 
 way from settlement to settlement — rides he 
 was compelled to take in the prosecution of 
 his business. One can realize the peril of 
 these official journeys when it is known that 
 so hostile were the Indians it was consid- 
 ered unsafe to live more than three or four 
 miles beyond the stockades of Nashville. 
 
 Yet Jackson never met with mishap from 
 the bullet, hatchet, or arrow of a redskin. 
 28 
 
 I 
 
, A PIONEER JUDGE 
 
 However, he became an expert Indian fighter 
 and more than once set out with a party to 
 punish some band which had committed an 
 unusually atrocious act. History has no 
 record in detail of any of these minor ex- 
 peditions, but we will soon come upon some 
 that were not minor and which no historian 
 can overlook. 
 
 As a solicitor he made his mark in the 
 community and became prosperous. There 
 was but little ready money in circulation in 
 that far country at that far time, and the 
 young lawyer was often compelled to take 
 land in payment for his services. Thus he 
 came in possession of some thousands of 
 acres of property, which grew in value as 
 the people grew in wealth and numbers, 
 and from a portion of these holdings he cre- 
 ated the estate known as The Hermitage, 
 which remains to-day much as he left it, being 
 protected by the State of Tennessee, that 
 government having acquired the title. He 
 first built a modest house of logs, purchased 
 slaves, laid out a farm, and stocked it with 
 
 29 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 fine horses and the best breeds of cattle ob- 
 tainable, and with this done, Mr. Solicitor 
 Jackson entered on the one romance of his 
 life ; he married the divorced wife of Lewis 
 Robards, daughter of the pioneer, John 
 Donelson, for whom was named the fort that 
 became famous during the late war of the 
 rebellion. This act tinctured the remainder 
 of Jackson's life and compelled him to fight 
 a duel which well-nigh resulted in his own 
 taking off. But that was later, and we will 
 touch upon it in its proper place. 
 
 By 1 796 our hero had attained to such a 
 pitch of popularity that he was elected by 
 the young State of Tennessee as its Repre- 
 sentative in the United States Congress, and 
 there he had the pleasure of seeing the re- 
 tiring President, George Washington, and 
 hearing his farewell address before he re- 
 turned to private life. The name of Wash- 
 ington was not then the talisman it has since 
 become, and the ** Father of his Country" had 
 many enemies ; our hero was one of them. 
 
 Jackson made but one speech in Con- 
 
 30 
 
A PIONEER JUDGE 
 
 gress, but that one was effective and gained 
 all he desired it to do. He resigned his seat 
 soon after, and returned in triumph to his 
 home, and all Tennessee rang with his praise. 
 Now he was elected to the Bench of the 
 Supreme Court and became a judge. The 
 lanky young lawyer had progressed rapidly, 
 for his position was now but one degree 
 below that of the Governor, and his salary 
 was the then magnificent sum of $600 a year ; 
 the Governor only received $750. 
 
 As a judge, Jackson was a strenuous dis- 
 penser of justice, and one before whom a 
 criminal dreaded to appear. Justice he gave 
 without fear or favor, and he demanded im- 
 plicit obedience to himself and respect for 
 his office. On one occasion there was a no- 
 torious criminal who had been summoned to 
 appear before him, but who scouted the man- 
 date of the court and defied the sheriff to 
 arrest him. Fully armed and uttering loud 
 and violent denunciations at all the minions 
 of the law, he strutted up and down the 
 street and in front of the building in which 
 
 31 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 the session was being held. The citizens 
 were awed, and the sheriff reported the man 
 as dangerous, — that not one of his deputies 
 dare attempt his arrest. 
 
 **Why do you not get him yourself?" 
 asked Jackson, the spark of wrath beginning 
 to flash from his eyes. 
 
 ** It would be death, your Honor ! The 
 fellow is armed like a pirate and defies 
 every one ! " 
 
 " He does, does he !" shouted the judge. 
 ** By the Eternal, we'll see about this ! Mr. 
 Sheriff, summons me as one of your posse; 
 summons me at once ! " 
 
 Jackson went into a white rage on the 
 instant, and the sheriff, not daring to do 
 otherwise, gave the judge his formal appoint- 
 ment as a deputy with directions to arrest 
 the offender. 
 
 The judge, hatless and coatless, descended 
 from the bench with the papers in his hand 
 and, followed at a respectful distance by a 
 crowd of court loungers, went into the street 
 and started for the criminal with a long and 
 32. 
 
A PIONEER JUDGE 
 
 rapid step. Quick as a flash the desperado 
 drew two pistols and aimed them at the 
 newly made officer, but the newly made 
 officer was not to be stopped from fear of 
 powder and ball. He went steadily on, his 
 eyes blazing with a fury few men were able 
 to withstand. 
 
 ** It's no use, Bob ! Fve been sent after 
 you and, by the Eternal, you've got to go 
 along with me ! So give in while ye may and 
 not when ye must ! " 
 
 The criminal appeared thunderstruck at 
 the coolness and bravery of the judge, for 
 without firing he lowered his pistols and said : 
 
 "Well, Andy, ef you've been sent arter 
 me I suppose I've got to go. The darned 
 ole shootin'-irons wa'n't loaded, anyhow." 
 
 The judge took him into court, gave up 
 his warrant as the sheriff's deputy, resumed 
 his seat on the bench, and though the cul- 
 prit was well known to him and hitherto 
 they had been friends, he tried him then and 
 there, found him guilty and gave him the 
 full penalty of the law. 
 
 33 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 This is a very fair instance of Jackson's 
 temper — fiery, impetuous, and he often ap- 
 peared to entirely lose hold of himself, and 
 apparently boiled with wrath. But much of 
 this was in appearance only. It is true that 
 he allowed his temper to master him very 
 frequently, but never until he had given the 
 matter before him sufficient thought to 
 clearly see his course ; then he went in re- 
 gardless of consequences, and often carried 
 by storm that which would have been im- 
 possible to carry by appeal or logic. 
 
 He kept his place on the bench for six 
 years, all the time holding on to commercial 
 life, for he had started a store and a trading 
 business with a partner whose name was 
 Coffee, of whom we shall hear more. Be- 
 tween the ages of thirty and forty his years 
 were very full. He became rich, then failed 
 during a commercial panic and became poor, 
 but he paid every cent he owed. He was in 
 many kinds of business ventures, succeeding 
 in some, failing in others. Among his suc- 
 cessful ones was his trade in fine horses — 
 
 34 
 
A PIONEER JUDGE 
 
 blooded horses — of which he was passion- 
 ately fond. From Virginia he obtained. the 
 celebrated Truxton, named after a commo- 
 dore in the United States navy, and the breed 
 of horses from this progenitor is well known 
 to-day among horsemen, and is highly valued. 
 When Jackson was thirty-five he was 
 elected major-general of the militia of Ten- 
 nessee, and it was this office that afterward 
 enabled him to fill the public eye as well as 
 to bring out the peculiar military talents 
 with which he had been gifted by nature. 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A DUELIST 
 
 Major-General Andrew Jackson, of 
 Tennessee, was fitted by nature to the days 
 and place in which he lived. Outlawry was 
 so common as to create scarcely a remark, 
 and fights — often fatal — were looked upon 
 as matters of course. No gathering was 
 considered complete and interesting unless 
 one or more fights occurred. Race-tracks 
 were fair fields for serious broils ; a political 
 meeting was bound to end in a fray — some- 
 times murderous, sometimes not, but violence 
 was sure to crop out before it was over. On 
 election days men would meet in the street, 
 strip off their coats, and get to punching 
 each other because they did not believe alike 
 on political questions ; and even religious 
 gatherings were not exempt from furious 
 outbursts of temper and even fistic battles. { 
 
 36 
 
A DUELIST 
 
 Fury seemed to sway men in those days 
 more than it does now. Something they 
 called *' honor " was forever being outraged 
 and defended, and this wonderful point of 
 imagined honor often compelled foolish 
 people to stand up and be shot at by their 
 fellow man for some trifling act, difference 
 of opinion, or insult, real or fancied. This 
 was the duel ; and a fine sway it had through- 
 out the young United States between the 
 years of 1790 and 18 15. 
 
 The duel amounted to just this. If you 
 say something true about me and the truth 
 hurts me, then I challenge you and you and 
 I fight. If I happen to be the best shot and 
 kill or even wound you, the truth is nullified 
 and I am a great man. This was about the 
 way the thing was looked at years ago. I 
 had to defend my so-called " honor," or my 
 wife's good name, or my friend's reputation, 
 showing the falsity of your statement be- 
 cause I was the better shot, or more blood- 
 thirsty, or less afraid than you. 
 
 This is silly business, though such silly 
 
 ^ 37 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 business frequently ended in tragedy — a 
 silly tragedy; and it was one of these silly 
 tragedies that hoisted our major-general high 
 into general notice and at the same time 
 hurt his reputation more than any other one 
 act of his life. He fought a number of times, 
 but this duel must be described because it is 
 so much a part of our hero's life that it 
 can not be left out of any history dealing 
 with him. 
 
 After all, it was part and parcel of those 
 times of violence. He was under the general 
 laws of society, and society made the duello a 
 necessity. Jackson was obliged to challenge 
 his man or stand before the community 
 branded as a coward ; and Andrew Jackson 
 was no coward, whatever else he might have 
 been. 
 
 The matter began over a couple of 
 race-horses — ^Jackson's Truxton, before men- 
 tioned, and one called Plowboy, owned by 
 a neighbor and in which a Mr. Charles 
 Dickinson was interested. This Charles 
 Dickinson was a gay young blade, more or 
 
 38 
 
A DUELIST 
 
 less dissipated, and loud and indiscreet when 
 under the influence of liquor. He and Jack- 
 son had a slight quarrel over the race (which, 
 by the way, never came off), and after the 
 thing was smoothed over and probably for- 
 gotten by the general, Dickinson made some 
 remarks in public touching the reputation 
 and virtue of the general's wife. This was 
 the spark which fired the powder of Jack- 
 son's temper. A slur cast on his wife was 
 the deadliest insult to him and one which he 
 would have died to resent. It is only fair 
 to say that Dickinson spoke falsely about 
 the lady, for Mrs. Jackson was a woman 
 above reproach ; all who knew her loved her 
 for her high qualities and her good sense. 
 From his courtship until the day of her 
 death Jackson was always her chivalrous 
 lover, courtly and kind, and though the 
 lady was not greatly favored in form or 
 feature, her husband exacted the utmost 
 respect to her. 
 
 Aspersions on her character from a man 
 like Dickinson brought Jackson to the white 
 
 39 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 heat of his wrath; his Scotch-Irish blood 
 boiled over, and he challenged the offender 
 to mortal combat ; just as if the killing of 
 one or the other would settle the rights and 
 wrongs of the question. 
 
 Dickinson, being the challenged party, 
 had the choice of weapons, and as he was 
 reputed to be the best shot in Tennessee, he 
 promptly chose pistols and openly boasted 
 that he would put his ball through the heart 
 of his opponent. The duel was to take 
 place on Friday — fateful day — May 30, 1 806, 
 and the spot chosen for this exhibition 
 of hatred was over the Kentucky line and 
 in the forest on the banks of the Red 
 River. It was a day's horseback ride from 
 Nashville. 
 
 For all that his antagonist was a dead 
 shot with the weapon selected, Jackson did 
 not quail from the meeting, although his 
 demeanor held less assurance than that which 
 marked his opponent. The two principals 
 started Thursday morning for the rendez- 
 vous, each accompanied by a number of 
 40 
 
A DUELIST 
 
 chosen friends. The Dickinson party made a 
 gala time of their journey and, it is asserted, 
 Dickinson, himself, gave frequent and varied 
 exhibitions of his skill with the pistol, per- 
 haps to intimidate his antagonist, who was 
 behind him, perhaps to gain confidence in 
 his own powers. There is little doubt, how- 
 ever, that Dickinson looked upon the matter 
 of Jackson's death as a foregone conclusion 
 and was cruelly coquetting with the feelings 
 of his intended victim when he directed 
 that there be shown to the Jackson party a 
 string which he had cut with a bullet from a 
 distance of twenty-four feet, and a silver dollar 
 on which were the marks of four bullets fired 
 from the same distance at the word of com- 
 mand. 
 
 But he little knew of the iron nerve of 
 the man he attempted to frighten, nor con- 
 sidered the calm judgment and generalship 
 of Jackson's second. General Thomas Over- 
 ton, an old Revolutionary soldier and one 
 perfectly familiar with the laws and tricks of 
 dueling. That night Jackson ate a hearty 
 
 41 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 supper and smoked his long pipe, as was his 
 habit, while over the latter principal and 
 second discussed a number of fine points 
 which, probably, had not been thought of by 
 the others. 
 
 The mode of procedure, as already ar- 
 ranged, was a little unusual and seemed to 
 favor Dickinson, whose quickness in aim was 
 as remarkable as his accuracy. The two 
 combatants were to stand face to face with 
 pistols in hand but with their arms hanging 
 at their sides. At the word of command 
 they were to raise their weapons, aim and 
 fire, each to have one shot. For Jackson to 
 raise his pistol and aim and fire ahead of 
 Dickinson was thought to be impossible, 
 and the two smoking cronies discussed this 
 matter over their pipes and glasses and 
 decided to allow Dickinson to have the first 
 shot. If some recent statements are true 
 they schemed further and more to the pur- 
 pose. Jackson's figure was tall and exceed- 
 ingly spare, and his long, loose coat tended 
 to make him appear taller than he was. If 
 42 
 
A DUELIST 
 
 reports are trustworthy, the foxy second of 
 the future President of the United States 
 now determined that Dickinson should be 
 deceived as to the exact whereabouts of that 
 heart through which he had promised to put 
 his pistol ball. The long, loose coat was to 
 be buttoned closely from waist to chin, but 
 beneath it was to be placed sufficient stuffing 
 of some sort -to make the general's figure 
 more rotund and better proportioned to his 
 height. Nothing was to be put between his 
 body and the ball he looked for, as he stood 
 with his right side exposed, but the front 
 profile of his figure was to be expanded and 
 rounded with padding. How fair this was, 
 according to the laws of dueling, let others 
 decide, but that it was done admits of little 
 doubt, and additional color is given to it 
 from the fact that Dickinson, for all his well- 
 known skill, was to be allowed to have the 
 first shot unmolested. The deception was 
 made possible from the circumstance that 
 neither of the duelists had seen each other 
 for over a year; their quarrel had been at 
 
 43 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 arm's length, the whole trouble resting on 
 correspondence and hearsay reports carried 
 by tale-bearers. It was pretty small business 
 for men of sense and reputation. 
 
 After thus settling affairs principal and 
 second separated and went to bed. Jackson 
 slept soundly; how Dickinson passed the 
 night is not known, but he probably was not 
 troubled by a lack of confidence in the re- 
 sult of the meeting on the morrow. 
 
 That morrow dawned bright and beauti- 
 ful, and Jackson, with General Overton and 
 a surgeon, left the party which had accom- 
 panied them and repaired to the chosen 
 ground. If the coming hero of New Or- 
 leans felt any trepidation he certainly did 
 not show it. He smiled pleasantly (and his 
 smile was very attractive) as, shaking each 
 of his departing friends by the hand, he ob- 
 served that there was nothing alarming in the 
 situation. ** I shall wing him, never fear," 
 was his last remark as he turned from them. 
 
 The grand old woods that witnessed this 
 bloody affair are now gone and cultivated 
 
 44 
 
A DUELIST 
 
 fields stretch away on either hand, but then 
 the somber arches of the forest sifted the 
 gay May sunlight and sent it dancing over 
 the mossy ground. It was a hideous thing 
 to disrupt nature's benign rule by there 
 bringing to a focus the hatred of two men. 
 
 From the time he approached the duel- 
 ing ground Jackson never spoke until the 
 affair was over. All was politeness when 
 the opposing parties met, the principals re- 
 maining apart. The preliminaries had been 
 pretty thoroughly arranged beforehand, and 
 nothing was left to preface the socially legal- 
 ized murder but to choose for position and 
 choose who should give the word. The 
 choice of position was won by Dickinson's 
 second, that of giving the word to fire by 
 General Overton, and at once the two com- 
 batants were placed in position, pistols in 
 hand. Dickinson, though slightly pale, 
 looked confident and smiling ; Jackson 
 stood like a carved statue, somber, erect, and 
 to all appearances perfectly self-contained. 
 His hat was off and his hair stood bristling, 
 
 45 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 as we see it in his portraits; his coat was 
 tightly buttoned and both arms hung loosely 
 at his sides. His right side alone was ex- 
 posed to Dickinson's fire. 
 
 General Overton advanced to his place, 
 and laying his hand on the butt of the pistol 
 he carried in his belt, said : 
 
 "Are you ready?" 
 
 Both men answered in the affirmative, 
 and before their words were fairly out he 
 shouted, in his broad Scotch accent : 
 
 ''Fere!'' 
 
 Like a flash Dickinson's arm went up 
 and flame leaped from his pistol. Jackson's 
 left arm jerked outward, and then he brought 
 it across his chest, but otherwise he did not 
 move. Dickinson's ball had gone where it 
 had been aimed — to the exact spot where 
 the man had thought Jackson's heart was 
 beating, but, as hoped, the deception had 
 worked and the bullet had plowed the gen- 
 eral's chest, breaking two ribs and making an 
 ugly but not dangerous nor serious wound 
 had it been properly dressed. 
 
 46 
 
A DUELIST 
 
 As Dickinson saw the result of what he 
 thought was his defective aim he fell back 
 several paces and exclaimed : 
 
 ** My God ! I have missed him ! " 
 
 " Back to the mark, sir ! " thundered 
 Overton, drawing his pistol. 
 
 Dickinson immediately recovered him- 
 self and went back to his position, where he 
 calmly awaited the return fire. 
 
 Then it was that Jackson moved. Slow- 
 ly raising his pistol, he took deliberate aim 
 and pulled the trigger, but the weapon was 
 defective and the hammer stopped at half- 
 cock. As unconcerned as though shooting 
 at an insensible mark, Jackson recocked his 
 weapon and aiming once more, fired. Dick- 
 inson reeled and fell into the arms of his 
 second. The ball had passed through his 
 body just beneath his ribs and he bled to 
 death in half an hour, without even the sat- 
 isfaction of knowing that he had hit his an- 
 tagonist, for Jackson kept to himself the 
 fact that he had been wounded until he was 
 off the field. It took him a month to re- 
 
 47 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 cover from the immediate effects of the shot, 
 but not a word did he ever drop that might 
 lead one to suppose he regretted having 
 taken the life of Charles Dickinson. 
 
 Under the laws of God, if not of man, 
 his act was murder, calm and deliberate, and 
 in his later life it probably troubled his con- 
 science even more than the wound troubled 
 his body, and the latter, after twenty years 
 of quiescence, broke out as an abscess and 
 gave the general more or less annoyance for 
 the remainder of his days. 
 
 48 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 A FEUD 
 
 For the next six years, or until the break- 
 ing out of the War of 1812, a war with our 
 old enemy, England, caused by her unwar- 
 ranted aggressions on our merchant ships 
 on the high seas, Jackson led what might for 
 him be called a quiet life. That is, he did 
 not fill the public eye, though he was as hot- 
 headed and strenuous as ever. He was in 
 many wordy disputes, through which he went 
 in his bursting fashion ; he took an active 
 part in a number of fights and acted as sec- 
 ond in a duel or two, but for the most part 
 he led the life of a gentleman planter and 
 attended to business and politics, which last 
 was almost a business for him. 
 
 Finally the cloud of war lowered, and, 
 with his usual promptness, Major-General 
 Jackson offered his sword to the United 
 
 49 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 States Government, also tendering the serv- 
 ices of the little army of State militia which 
 he commanded. He had never yet heard a 
 cannon save when as a boy during the Rev- 
 olution he listened in awe to the thunder of 
 the British artillery ; but that mattered little 
 to a man like Andrew Jackson. He felt 
 equal to pitting himself against any military 
 genius of the day, trained or untrained. He 
 was something like Napoleon in that he did 
 not depend upon tradition or a knowledge 
 of old laws to insure success in military ma- 
 neuver ; he was a law unto himself. 
 
 Being the first to come forward and hav- 
 ing the indorsement of a few friends at 
 Washington, his offer was accepted and he 
 received a commission from President Madi- 
 son, but definite orders did not come for 
 some time. The war, which was never very 
 brisk, dragged, and the Mississippi Valley 
 had not been threatened. Jackson, now a 
 general in the United States Volunteers, 
 continued his calm life, raced his horses, 
 traded in his store, though his partner, 
 
 50 
 
A FEUD 
 
 Coffee, did most of that business, and waited 
 for his orders to arrive, for his hour to strike. 
 He did one thing that stands out from the 
 monotony of smaller events ; he adopted one 
 of the infant sons of his wife's brother, gave 
 him his name, and brought him up as his own 
 son and heir. This was the Andrew Jack- 
 son of Tennessee, who died but a short time 
 since. 
 
 At last he received instructions to mus- 
 ter 1,500 volunteers and proceed with them 
 down the Cumberland, Ohio, and Missis- 
 sippi Rivers to New Orleans, and there re- 
 enforce General Wilkinson, who was in com- 
 mand of the forces in and about that city, 
 as it was feared that the British, having made 
 a good defense of Canada, would transfer the 
 seat of active hostilities to the lower Missis- 
 sippi Valley. The regular army was not the 
 power it has since become and consisted of 
 but a handful of men so divided that one 
 part could not readily support the other. 
 The country depended upon its volunteers 
 in all cases of emergency, and as compared 
 
 51 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 to the present day volunteers were few 
 and far between, while proportionally the 
 lines to be defended against enemies were 
 much longer. There were then no means 
 by which troops could be rapidly moved 
 from point to point. There were no rail- 
 roads, and in fact but few good roads of 
 any kind. The country was, for the most 
 part, covered by heavy forests, and troops 
 were moved through these, or by means of the 
 great streams that so enrich our land. Roads 
 had to be made through the wilderness when 
 the army moved by land, and numberless 
 boats constructed when it went by water. 
 Food centers were far apart, and supplies 
 were transported over vast distances at ir- 
 regular tinies ; thus, one of the greatest 
 causes of suffering experienced by our sol- 
 diers early in the nineteenth century was 
 the lack of supplies and the danger of star- 
 vation in a wild and hostile country. 
 
 But if any man was able to foresee 
 events and provide against circumstances, 
 Andrew Jackson was that man. A picture 
 52 
 
A FEUD 
 
 of his energy is so well painted by the his- 
 torian Parton that it is here inserted. 
 
 "The loth of December was the day ap- 
 pointed for the troops to rendezvous at Nash- 
 ville. The climate of Tennessee, generally 
 so pleasant, is liable to brief periods of severe 
 cold. Twice within the memory of living 
 persons the Cumberland has been frozen 
 over at Nashville, and as often snow has 
 fallen there to the depth of a foot. It so 
 chanced that the day named for the assem- 
 bling of the troops was the coldest that 
 had been known at Nashville for many 
 years, and there was deep snow on the 
 ground. Such was the enthusiasm, however, 
 of the volunteers that more than two thou- 
 sand presented themselves on the appointed 
 day. The general was no less puzzled than 
 pleased by this alacrity. 
 
 " Nashville was still little more than a 
 large village, not capable of affording the 
 merest shelter to such a concourse of sol- 
 diers, who in any weather not extraor- 
 dinary would have disdained a roof. There 
 
 = S3 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 was no resource for the mass of the troops 
 but to camp out. Fortunately, the quarter- 
 master, Major William B. Lewis, had pro- 
 vided a thousand cords of wood for the use 
 of the men, a quantity that was supposed 
 to be sufficient to last till they embarked. 
 Every stick of wood was burned the first 
 night in keeping the men from freezing. 
 From dark until nearly daylight the general 
 and the quartermaster were out among the 
 troops, employed in providing for this un- 
 expected and perilous exigency, seeing that 
 drunken men were brought within reach of 
 the fire, and that no drowsy sentinel slept 
 the sleep of death." 
 
 This expedition never reached New Or- 
 leans, for at Natchez, on the Mississippi, 
 Jackson received an order to disband his 
 troops and return home. Then the peppery 
 patriot overflowed with righteous anger. 
 Here were the troops whom he had enlisted 
 in good faith, five hundred miles from home. 
 Were they to be disbanded and set adrift 
 without pay ? It was a thing unheard of be- 
 54 
 
A FEUD 
 
 fore, and Jackson swore a great oath — 3. 
 great many great oaths — that he would not 
 desert his men even if the Government did. 
 Fortunately there came an order to pay off 
 the volunteers, and this was done, but the 
 fiery commander was not yet satisfied ; he 
 resolved to disobey the Government at 
 Washington, and return the men to Nash- 
 ville as he had taken them away — in a body. 
 If the Government would not pay the ex- 
 penses incurred, he would take the cost from 
 his own pocket. 
 
 The little army was dismayed at the new 
 arrangement, but such was their faith in their 
 chief that there were but few murmurs. 
 Burdened by their one hundred and fifty sick, 
 they took up the return march overland. 
 There were but eleven wagons available for 
 the disabled, and the general gave up his 
 three horses to the sick, while he stalked on 
 ahead of his men, somber and dignified, 
 though angry clear through. His anger, 
 however, was never directed against one of 
 his soldiers. He cared for them like chil- 
 
 55 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 dren and sacrificed for them all that lay in 
 his power. Mile after mile he walked, never 
 giving way to the fatigue he must have felt, 
 and this persistence in advancing, his untir- 
 ing and uncomplaining care of those about 
 him who were ready to drop from exhaus- 
 tion, earned for him the name of " Old 
 Hickory," a tribute to his mental and phys- 
 ical toughness. 
 
 It ended by his bringing his troops home 
 and dismissing them in the public square at 
 Nashville, and the men went their ways full 
 of enthusiasm for the general who had been 
 ordered to lead them on what had been a 
 fruitless errand in place of one filled with 
 honor and glory. 
 
 And the Government had not paid the ex- 
 penses of the homeward march. Jackson had 
 drawn bills against his own fortune to such 
 an extent that he would have met flat ruin 
 had he been obliged to pay them. He was 
 saved from this by the active services of 
 Colonel Thomas Benton, who commanded 
 one of the regiments under Jackson. This 
 
 56 
 
A FEUD 
 
 name should be remembered, as the colonel 
 cut a large figure in Jackson's subsequent life ; 
 was first his friend, then his bitter enemy, 
 and lastly his friend again. The colonel, 
 who had gone to Washington, finally pre- 
 vailed on the Secretary of War to look upon 
 the expense of the homeward march as an 
 expense upon the Government, and thus the 
 general was relieved of the load of impend- 
 ing ruin. Though an act of simple justice, 
 it required a deal of skill and diplomacy to 
 bring it about, and it was only accomplished 
 by at last threatening the Administration with 
 the loss of the support of the State of Ten- 
 nessee. So are men's acts colored by their 
 interests. 
 
 Even while Benton was engaged in seek- 
 ing relief for Jackson that gentleman was 
 being drawn into trouble with Mr. Jesse 
 Benton, a brother of the colonel. Jesse 
 had a " difficulty " with one Colonel Car- 
 roll, and, as was usual, the trouble between 
 the two must be settled by a duel. The 
 duel came off, Jackson acting as a second 
 
 57 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 in the affair, but if the trouble was settled 
 between the belligerents, it was not settled 
 for Jackson. Benton was wounded, and at 
 once complained to his brother, Thomas, of 
 the unfairness of Jackson. What the charges 
 were is not clear, but in the heat of his anger 
 Jesse charged the general with much that 
 must have been impossible. Colonel Ben- 
 ton, who had just completed the work that 
 saved Jackson from bankruptcy, turned 
 against his old friend without inquiring into 
 the rights or wrongs of the matter. The 
 general, evidently justified in all he had done 
 and with a clear conscience, stood upon his 
 dignity and vouchsafed no explanation of 
 his acts, and as no explanation was asked, 
 the three hot heads soon became enemies, 
 the two brothers siding together. 
 
 The Bentons spared no pains in slander- 
 ing the general and vilifying his character on 
 all occasions. So gross did their accusations 
 at last become that Jackson, who had been 
 forbearing, finally threw aside all considera- 
 tions of past services and friendship, and 
 
 58 
 
A FEUD 
 
 swore he would horsewhip Thomas Benton 
 on sight. 
 
 They met in Nashville. It was no duel 
 this time, but it came very near being mur- 
 der. Jackson, with his friend and partner, 
 Coffee, who was now also a general, crossed 
 the square to the hotel where the Bentons 
 were stopping. Jackson carried a light ri- 
 ding-whip in his hand, and as he approached 
 he saw Thomas standing in the hotel entry, 
 and near him was his brother, the cause 
 of all the bad blood. Without apparently 
 noticing either, Jackson walked on until 
 nearly opposite the entry, then suddenly 
 turning, strode to his erstwhile friend, and 
 flourishing his whip, he exclaimed : 
 
 *' Now, you d rascal, I'm going to 
 
 punish you ! Defend yourself ! " 
 
 Thomas started and made as if to draw a 
 pistol from his breast pocket, but as quick 
 as a flash Jackson, anticipating the act, drew 
 his own and presented it, at which Benton 
 retreated down the hallway, Jackson follow- 
 ing and threatening him with both pistol 
 
 59 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 and whip. Coffee remained behind. Jesse 
 Benton, fearing for his brother's life, drew 
 his pistol and ran after the two in the hall. 
 Coming up just as Jackson had penned 
 Thomas in a corner, he aimed point-blank at 
 the general, and fired. The pistol was loaded 
 with a slug and two bullets ; one of the 
 balls flew wide of the mark and struck the 
 wall, but the other ball and the slug took ef- 
 fect ; one hit Jackson on the left arm and 
 the other buried itself in his shoulder, shat- 
 tering the bone and producing a fearful 
 wound. 
 
 Jackson fell with a groan, and Coffee, 
 hearing the explosion, came running in. Be- 
 lieving his friend had been shot by Thomas 
 Benton, Coffee drew his pistol and fired, 
 missing his aim ; then reversing the weapon, 
 he was about to strike down the innocent 
 man when Benton suddenly disappeared, 
 having fallen down the cellar stairs, thinking 
 that the door through which he had retreated 
 led into a room. 
 
 Jackson, bleeding fearfully and com- 
 60 
 
A FEUD 
 
 pletely prostrated, was carried tenderly to 
 his hotel, while the two brothers openly ex- 
 ulted in their victory by breaking, in the 
 public square, the light sword the general 
 had worn, and which had been dropped in 
 the fray. Every gentleman wore a sword in 
 those days, not so much for a weapon as a 
 badge of respectability. 
 
 It was years before Thomas Benton saw 
 Jackson again and again became his friend, 
 during the latter's second term as President 
 of the United States. Jesse never forgave 
 the general, nor did he forgive his brother 
 for forgetting his old hatred, but showed his 
 animosity in every possible way, which ways, 
 however, were impotent to injure the objects 
 aimed at. 
 
 61 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 IN THE FIELD 
 
 It was three weeks before the wounded 
 man was able to sit up, and then was con- 
 fined to his room. He probably was not a 
 lovely companion during this interval. For 
 a man of his temper, to be maimed, defeated, 
 and housed, was anything but a sedative. 
 He had come very near to losing his arm, if 
 not his life ; and when the doctors in attend- 
 ance told him that his arm must come off, 
 with characteristic determination and brevity 
 he remarked that he would go to the grave 
 with his arm on, and with the assistance of a 
 single young surgeon who disagreed with his 
 brother practitioners, the arm was saved, 
 though, like the wound in the general's chest, 
 it troubled him long after it had healed. 
 The ball remained unextracted for twenty 
 years. 
 
 62 
 
IN THE FIELD 
 
 In the interval af Jackson's sickness great 
 events had happened, and the mind of the 
 community was filled, as it is rarely filled, 
 nowadays. At that time the world was look- 
 ing at France, and looking, saw Napoleon 
 defeated at Waterloo and tumbled, for the 
 second time, from his self-raised throne. At 
 home the young nation was applauding 
 Perry, who had successfully opposed the 
 English fleet on Lake Erie, and shouting 
 their hurrahs at Harrison, who had come off 
 victorious in an encounter with an Indian 
 force under the celebrated Tecumseh. These 
 were great matters — great to the country at 
 large, but like a thunderclap there came on 
 August 30, 1 81 3, an event that electrified 
 the Southwest, overshadowing all other con- 
 siderations and sending Jackson into a fury 
 of impatience. 
 
 This was the news that Fort Mimms, in 
 the southwestern part of what is now Ala- 
 bama, had been surprised by the Creek 
 Indians, and of its 550 inmates, consisting 
 of men, women and children, and a few sol- 
 
 63 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 diers and negroes, 400 were ruthlessly mas- 
 sacred ; it is recorded that not a single white 
 woman or child escaped. A few of the gar- 
 rison got into the woods, but there died of 
 starvation or their wounds, and quite a num- 
 ber of negroes were spared only to be made 
 slaves of by the red man. A negress escaped 
 to Lake Tensaw, and in a canoe or on a float- 
 ing log, it is uncertain which, brought the 
 news of the massacre to Fort Stoddart, pad- 
 dling a distance of fifteen miles, though 
 wounded and carrying a musket-ball in her 
 breast. 
 
 So wild was the country, so hostile and 
 without the means of rapid communication 
 with civilization, it was fifteen days before 
 the news of the disaster reached Nashville. 
 There was but one sentiment throughout the 
 country ; the Indians must be punished, the 
 remaining settlers protected. This was the 
 beginning of what is known as the " Creek 
 War," for it was that nation whose violence 
 and atrocities had rendered the extreme 
 South well-nigh uninhabitable for the white 
 
 64 
 
IN THE FIELD 
 
 settler. It was really part and parcel with 
 the then existing war with England, for 
 England had furnished the savages with 
 rum, arms, and ammunition, and influenced 
 them against the whites. Under the leader- 
 ship of a renegade named Weathersford, a 
 brave but unscrupulous man, the Indians bid 
 fair to exterminate every white from New 
 Orleans to the State of Georgia, as far north 
 as Tennessee ; the little settlement of Mobile 
 was in imminent danger of being wiped from 
 the earth. And throughout this vast region 
 families fled in terror to the nearest forts or 
 stockades — flimsy protections at best, and 
 waited in fear and trembling for their turn 
 to feed the thirsty tomahawk. 
 
 The South was in an uproar. Napoleon 
 was forgotten and Perry and Harrison sunk 
 in the shade before the near and appalling 
 danger of an Indian invasion. The legisla- 
 tors assembled at once and acted at once. 
 They did not wait for assistance from the 
 central Government, but before the news of 
 the great outrage had reached New York, it 
 
 65 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 taking more than four weeks to get that dis- 
 tance, it was ordered that thirty-five hundred 
 men, under the general entitled to command 
 them, should be despatched to the Indian 
 country to overawe the hostiles, punish 
 the murderers, gather together the friendly 
 tribes, and so hold the country until the 
 United States Government had time to act. 
 The order was to go into effect at once. 
 
 And the general entitled to command, 
 and who was standing on the threshold of 
 his real greatness (he had only been promi- 
 nent or notorious before), was confined to 
 his room, propped up in his chair and unable 
 to bear the weight of his coat. Did he fret, 
 fume, and swear ? He did all three, but he 
 did more ; he acted as though his body was 
 as well as his brain. Before the ink on the 
 pen, which, held in the Governor's hand, 
 signed the order of the Legislature and made 
 it valid, had time to dry, General Jackson 
 had issued his orders directing the troops to 
 rendezvous at Fayetteville, a little village on 
 the northern borders of Alabama. In a foot- 
 
 66 
 
IN THE FIELD 
 
 note to these orders was a terse and astonish- 
 ing notice to the effect that the health of the 
 commanding general had been restored. 
 
 Restored ! He could not get on his horse 
 without assistance ; he could not wear a 
 sleeve on the wounded arm, which he carried 
 in a sling. Yellow from fever, weak as a 
 child, and emaciated to the last degree, he 
 looked like an animated corpse as he set out 
 for Fayetteville, a journey, for him, of three 
 days. A doctor went with him and the stops 
 for necessary rests were very frequent ; in- 
 deed, it seemed that the indomitable will of 
 the man must succumb under his physical 
 distresses. But he bore up as few others 
 would have done, and finally began to im- 
 prove in health. This was the real Andrew 
 Jackson; a man who never surrendered in 
 act or word until he laid down before the 
 last great enemy, death ; then his life had 
 been filled, his ambitions satisfied. 
 
 The campaign against the Creeks was a 
 vigorous one, but the greatest enemy with 
 which the little army had to contend was 
 
 67 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 starvation. There was no lack of food ready 
 to be forwarded, but there was a great lack of 
 means by which it could be sent to the men 
 fighting afield, or rather, through a howling 
 wilderness. Much, and indeed most, of the 
 supplies were intended to reach Jackson by 
 way of the Tennessee River, but the con- 
 tractors did not figure on the possible low- 
 ness of the water, due to summer's drought, 
 and when a large quantity of flour, of which 
 the men were greatly in need, had been 
 drawn miles through the forest to a point 
 where it was to be sent down the stream to 
 Fort Deposit, where Jackson's hungry army 
 was impatiently waiting for it, it was discov- 
 ered that the river was no longer navigable 
 owing to low water and the stores remained 
 where they were, the contractors determin- 
 ing to wait until the fall rains set in and 
 deepened the channel. In the meantime the 
 men for whom the supplies were intended 
 went on short rations and watched the river 
 in vain, though hoping that each hour would 
 bring the little fleet. 
 
 68 
 
IN THE FIELD 
 
 Jackson, made desperate by the delay, 
 moved his army up-stream and fortified a 
 camp, calling it Fort Strother, and then 
 learning that a large force of Creeks were 
 laying siege to a band of friendly Indians who 
 were penned in a stockade, he determined 
 to push ahead with his famished army and 
 relieve those who were calling on him for 
 assistance. Not only was it necessary to 
 succor his red allies, who were completely 
 surrounded and nearly dying from thirst, but 
 it was necessary to then and there strike a 
 blow at the Creeks, who were proclaiming 
 the cowardice of the whites as shown in their 
 supposed fear of penetrating far into the 
 Indian country. Coffee, Jackson's friend 
 and partner in business, was sent off in an 
 opposite direction with a force of some five 
 hundred mounted men, for the purpose of 
 foraging for themselves and destroying such 
 of the enemy's strongholds and villages as 
 they came across ; and thus relieved of a 
 portion of the drain on his diminished com- 
 missary, Jackson, with less than scanty pro- 
 6 69 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 visions for two days, took up a line of march 
 through the thick and gloomy forest. So 
 rapid were his movements, so sudden was his 
 descent, that the hostiles, who had been sure 
 of their prey, were taken entirely by sur- 
 prise and fled howling in every direction. 
 The lately beleaguered Indians were loud in 
 their thanks, and when they had slaked their 
 thirst they showered the victors with tokens 
 of their gratitude. 
 
 70 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 A MUTINY 
 
 But gratitude fills no stomachs and the 
 savages brought no food for the famishing 
 soldiers ; indeed, they were themselves fam- 
 ishing. Back marched the army, hoping that 
 supplies had reached the camp they had re- 
 cently left, but on arriving discovered that 
 not a mouthful had come ; that even the sick 
 and wounded who had been left behind were 
 in immediate danger of starvation. At this 
 time matters looked black. There was not 
 a single remaining biscuit belonging to the 
 army, though the general had a few provi- 
 sions which he had obtained and had trans- 
 ported at his own expense. At this trying 
 period he placed the whole at the disposal of 
 the sick, and though it did not go far, it was 
 something. He, himself, went to the slaugh- 
 ter-pen, and from the entrails of the animals 
 
 71 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 recently killed selected such parts as could 
 be turned into food, remarking that the 
 whole made tripe, and that tripe was a whole- 
 some and delicious article of diet. This he 
 set the example of eating, and he had to eat 
 it unseasoned. It could not have been a 
 very delectable dish, but it kept life within 
 the body and reduced the pangs of hunger. 
 Through all he was jocular, but it was forced 
 fun. On the verge of physical collapse and 
 with a heart made sick by hope deferred, 
 Jackson moved among the sick and well like 
 an exponent of strength, and yet he was a 
 broken reed in all but grit and determina- 
 tion. In secret he groaned in despair and 
 spent the hours when he should have been 
 sleeping in writing pitiful letters to those who 
 might have it in their power to ameliorate 
 the condition of his famishing and now al- 
 most rebellious army. 
 
 Apparently neglected by the home Gov- 
 ernment, rendered inactive by the lack of 
 supplies, and surrounded by an enemy as 
 stealthy as he was merciless, men murmured 
 72 
 
A MUTINY 
 
 until the murmurs became loud — so loud that 
 they could not be misunderstood by the gen- 
 eral, who, for a season, shut his ears to them. 
 Not the least of the trouble was homesick- 
 ness, or, as the doctors say, nostalgia, a dis- 
 ease, if it can be called a disease, not confined 
 to the young, as some suppose. Starvation 
 and homesickness are two strong factors that 
 stand in the way of duty, for they sap the 
 spirits while they render desperate their vic- 
 tims ; either one is bad enough, but together 
 they made a force that taxed the powers of 
 even Andrew Jackson. 
 
 And the end of the matter would have 
 been ludicrous had not the nature of the 
 trouble been so serious. It seems that there 
 were two kinds of troops under Jackson, the 
 militia and the volunteers. Both bodies were 
 equally anxious to return to civilization, see 
 their families, get properly fed, and wait a 
 more auspicious time to war against the 
 Creeks. No man needed food and rest more 
 than Jackson ; no man would have enjoyed 
 them more, but his far sight told him that if 
 
 73 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 he retreated, it would look like cowardice to 
 the hostiles, who would follow, greatly en- 
 couraged, and in all probability would carry 
 their depredations inside the borders of Ten- 
 nessee. All that had been gained would be 
 lost immediately ; the friendly tribes, im- 
 pressed by the act of apparent desertion, 
 would join the hostiles to a man, and the 
 campaign would have proved a failure. 
 
 Failure ! The word determined the fiery 
 old war-horse (old at the age of forty-eight), 
 and he resolved to stay even if he staid alone. 
 He hoped, however, that the grumbling 
 would not break out in open rebellion, but he 
 was ready when it did. 
 
 And it did. The militia began it. With 
 their determination winked at by many of 
 their officers, they resolved to march home in 
 a body, starting early in the morning after 
 the decision. But they failed to reckon with 
 their commander. Jackson, who knew per- 
 fectly well what was going on under his 
 long nose, was up early that day, and when 
 the militia were about to start they were 
 
 74 
 
A MUTINY 
 
 astonished to find the volunteers drawn 
 across their road with their general at their 
 head. Jackson made a spirited address in 
 which were some dire threats, but the mat- 
 ter ended by the militia returning to their 
 duties. 
 
 Now this did not half suit the volunteers, 
 who had hoped their brothers in arms would 
 insist, and thereby open the way for their own 
 escape. Their complaints were not loud, but 
 they were sincere, and hardly had they re» 
 turned from their too successful mission of 
 turning back the militia, when they, them- 
 selves, determined to march homeward the 
 following day. 
 
 All this was flat mutiny, and, according to 
 the laws of war, punishable with' death, but 
 the general well knew the terrible stress 
 under which his men labored, and instead of 
 even degrading the ringleaders, he concen- 
 trated his efforts on preventing the crime. 
 When the volunteers emerged from camp at 
 the dawn of the next day, they found that 
 their lately erring companions were now 
 
 75 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 drawn across the track, with Jackson, his lame 
 arm yet in a sling, at their head. 
 
 The general was in a rage ; his face was 
 red, his eyes flashed, what some said was blue 
 fire, and his grizzled hair stood on end like 
 fur on the back of an angry cat. He fairly 
 roared at his disaffected troops, and his wrath 
 was as fearful as it was unrestrained. The 
 column halted, but after a moment's hesita- 
 tion, attempted to advance. At this, with 
 his serviceable arm, Jackson snatched a mus- 
 ket from a soldier standing near, and rising 
 m his stirrups, shook it as he shouted : 
 
 ** By the immaculate God ! I will shoot 
 the first man that offers to go forward ! " 
 
 And he would have done it ; what is more, 
 the wavering men knew he was ready and 
 willing. It is stated by some who were wit- 
 nesses of the scene that one look into the 
 eyes of the thin, yellow man sitting on horse- 
 back was enough to turn the most foolhardy 
 of the mutineers. The men remained halted, 
 no one caring to be the first to meet a bullet 
 backed by such wrath ; it was worse than 
 
 76 
 
A MUTINY 
 
 gunpowder. Again Jackson implored his 
 men to come to their senses, and threatened 
 them if they should not. The front rank 
 hung their heads abashed, the rear began to 
 slink back to camp, and in a short time order 
 came out of rebellion. Ere many days passed 
 food was again plentiful and the spirit of the 
 army was restored. 
 
 And this through the might, spirit, and 
 insistence of one man. He had written, he 
 had implored, he had threatened, and in the 
 end was ready to fight in the line of duty — 
 to fight single-handed. One man, crippled, 
 sick, and well-nigh heartbroken at the out- 
 look, had managed through pure determina- 
 tion to subdue a horde of hungry, homesick, 
 and desperate troopers who were so far bent 
 upon outraging their oaths as to risk the 
 death of traitors, but who were driven back 
 to empty dishes and duty by impassioned 
 words and a musket, the latter, it was after- 
 ward found, being so far out of repair as to 
 be useless as a firearm. 
 
 But it was neither the words nor the 
 
 77 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 musket that was potent It was the spirit 
 of the general — the eyes flashing blue fire — 
 the man. 
 
 Thus ended the trouble caused by starva- 
 tion, but the waters were calm for but a short 
 time. Presently a whole regiment rebelled 
 because the time for which the men enlisted 
 was out. Jackson suppressed this difficulty 
 as he had done the other — by force of arms, 
 training his field-pieces on the rebellious body, 
 but for a while it looked as though the whole 
 army would revolt. Fourteen hundred 
 marched home at last (as they had a right to 
 do), despite the fact that their commander 
 implored them to remain for but a few days 
 and strike another blow at the Indians, who 
 were growing bolder and bolder in the face 
 of the inactive army, and who had been suc- 
 cessful in surprising and causing the retreat 
 of a few disconnected parties, who, com- 
 manded by unskilful officers, had gone on ex- 
 cursions against them. Beyond his words 
 Jackson placed nothing in the way of this 
 desertion, and by the following February 
 
 78 
 
A MUTINY 
 
 the entire force was on the eve of dissolu- 
 tion. It seemed that the cause for which the 
 white men fought was doomed to defeat. 
 The British were exultant, and had it not 
 been for Jackson's bulldog tenacity of pur- 
 pose, the war in the Southwest would have 
 ended there and then, for the Governor of 
 Tennessee, advised by many prominent men, 
 was about to recall the State troops and leave 
 the contest to be carried on by the central 
 Government. 
 
 In all probability, this would have led to 
 certain ruin ; certainly it would have forever 
 quenched Jackson's military light, a light 
 which was just beginning to glow. In a 
 desperate state of mind he retired to his tent 
 and wrote to the Governor, and what he 
 wrote evidently struck the Governor very 
 hard. For one thing, it convinced him that 
 he had been wrongly advised, and instead of 
 giving up the fight, he ordered a levy of 
 fresh men to take the places of those who 
 had returned home, and at once a new spirit 
 became manifest throughout the entire State. 
 
 79 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 That letter probably saved the Southwest ; it 
 probably led to the later battle of New Or- 
 leans, and it surely was the buoy which floated 
 Andrew Jackson to the crest of the wave of 
 popularity and brought success from what 
 had appeared the blackest failure. Jackson 
 was a good talker, but when he wrote with 
 his heart in his subject, he wrote with a pen 
 of fire ; and though he lacked in style and 
 correctness, these imperfections were lost in 
 the force of his reasoning and the impassioned 
 eloquence of his words. As a result of this 
 letter, instead of orders to retreat came the 
 information that nearly four thousand Ten- 
 nesseeans were on their way to join him. Soon 
 after he was strengthened by a part of his old 
 friend Coffee's brigade of mounted men — 
 tried soldiers and true — and to cap the climax 
 of good fortune, there came six hundred 
 troops of the regular army. Several tribes 
 of friendly Indians now threw their fortunes 
 with the increasing army, and in a few weeks 
 Jackson, instead of tamely retiring from the 
 field, was ready to strike the blow that fin- 
 80 
 
A MUTINY 
 
 ished the Creek War and boosted him into a 
 prominence from which he never descended. 
 This was the battle of the ** Horseshoe." 
 
 81 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 TAHOPEKA 
 
 About midway from the source of the 
 Tallapoosa River and its mouth,where, joined 
 by the Coosa, it forms the Alabama, there 
 occurs a bend which was known by the 
 whites as the ** Horseshoe " on account of 
 the shape and regularity of its curve ; the 
 Indians called it Tahopeka. The river here 
 is both wide and deep, the stream in its 
 majestic sweep almost enclosing a section of 
 land of about one hundred acres, the narrow 
 part being a trifle over one thousand feet 
 across. This beautiful river-made peninsula 
 was in the very heart of the hostile country 
 and the land for one hundred and fifty miles 
 around was a virgin forest. 
 
 Here ran the wild deer almost unmo- 
 lested ; here, also, lurked the wolf and the 
 panther, and in the black fastnesses of the 
 82 
 
TAHOPEKA 
 
 swamps hid the deadly fer-de-lance and his 
 hideous companion, the water moccasin. 
 Threaded through the everlasting twilight or 
 darkness of the moss-draped forest lay the 
 trails of the savages, paths of hardly more 
 than three spans in width but worn to the 
 depth of from six inches to a foot by the 
 tread of countless generations of red men. 
 These trails were admirable roads for small 
 foot parties and the spy, but were useless for 
 troops encumbered with artillery and bag- 
 gage. 
 
 To Tahopeka, or the Horseshoe, came 
 the Creeks, and with fine military instinct 
 they determined to fortify the ground which 
 had been so arranged by nature as to present 
 but one point of attack by land, that through 
 the narrow part, or between the heels of the 
 horseshoe. Here they collected some one 
 thousand warriors — the flower of their nation 
 — and three hundred^ or more, women and 
 children. Then they began to build. 
 
 On the rather high bluff of the river-bank 
 at the toe of the loop they erected their 
 
 83 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 wigwams and bark houses, and then across 
 the neck of the peninsula they threw up a 
 high and strong breastwork of logs and 
 earth. Behind this was a thick covert of 
 brushwood and fallen timber to which they 
 could retire if driven in from the front, while 
 still in the rear came the forest which covered 
 the greater part of the enclosed area. It 
 was not a fort but it was a very formidable 
 work and one to do credit to any engineer. 
 
 And here, armed with rifles and the 
 hardly less deadly weapon at short range, the 
 bow and flint-headed arrow, the Creeks 
 waited for Jackson's appearance, for they 
 had heard that he was about to make a clean 
 sweep of the Creek Indian, not only to 
 defeat the aim of the British, but to forever 
 subdue the savages of the Southwest and 
 open up the country for safe settlement by 
 Americans. If Britain was not to directly 
 suffer from this campaign her allies were, for 
 they were to be wiped out or rendered harm- 
 less. Such was Jackson's plan. 
 
 And so the fortified savages lurked and 
 
 84 
 
TAHOPEEA 
 
 waited, sending out their spies to watch the 
 movements of the coming whites and evi- 
 dently receiving much satisfaction at hearing 
 of the difficulties that beset the advancing 
 army. 
 
 And the difficulties were many. Jackson 
 was eleven days going from Fort Strother 
 to the Horseshoe, for it was no little work 
 to cut roads and bridge streams so that his 
 supplies could follow ; he did not purpose 
 going through another starvation experience, 
 and that, too, in the face of a desperate 
 enemy so sure of victory that they looked 
 for no further line of retreat than was 
 afforded by the lovely river running on their 
 flanks and rear. 
 
 It may well be supposed that the general 
 was cautious. He heard with lively satisfac- 
 tion that the bulk of his foe had cooped 
 themselves on one spot. From his friendly 
 Indian runners and spies he heard of the 
 great strength of the log wall which stretched 
 clear across the neck of land, and probably 
 sighed for the men who were to face it when 
 7 85 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 told that it was pierced with two sets of 
 loopholes and so arranged that the troops 
 must receive the enemy's fire on the flanks 
 as well as on the front. He looked to his 
 two little field-pieces to batter down this 
 wall, but, as will be seen, he looked in vain. 
 The best piece of news he received was that 
 the Creeks had failed to make any provision 
 to defend the bank over the river in the rear 
 of their position. It was true that the foot 
 of the bluff was lined with canoes into which 
 the Indians might escape if driven from their 
 stronghold, but no line of retreat had been 
 protected, and, indeed, the Creeks thought 
 not of retreat ; to them victory was already 
 theirs and their belts were already heavy 
 with the prospective scalps of American 
 soldiers. 
 
 Neither did the Americans dream of 
 being defeated, and for their confidence they 
 had better reasons than the red man. First, 
 deducting the several bodies of men detailed 
 to hold open the road he had made, Jackson 
 had a force of two thousand against the one 
 86 
 
TAHOPEKA 
 
 thousand fighting savages hemmed in by 
 their own work. Two to one are heavy 
 odds, and the general saw that the Indians 
 had constructed their own slaughter-pen. 
 His army was made up of two sorts of 
 soldiers : one, the tried veterans who had 
 stuck to him through all discouragements ; 
 the other, new men of the best Tennessee 
 families, who were woodsmen by instinct (as 
 nearly every man was in those days), and 
 who had not been reduced by starvation or 
 demoralized by forced and tedious inactivity. 
 Moreover, supplies were plentiful, each man 
 having close at hand full rations for twenty 
 days, and to cap these advantages were the 
 two cannon. These were no great arm in 
 themselves, they being but three and six 
 pounders, but nothing was so demoralizing 
 to a savage as cannon, the noise of the re- 
 port appalling him and the crash of a cannon 
 shot of more avail than the ball itself. 
 
 With this little army were men who, as 
 
 yet obscure, were destined to become famous. 
 
 ? Davy Crockett, the future hero of the Alamo, 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 was there, a rollicking, daredevil youth, who 
 a few years later was to be the last man to 
 fall in the Alamo massacre at San Antonio, 
 when Texas was fighting for her independ- 
 ence from Mexico. Here also was Sam 
 Houston, who, next to Jackson himself, be- 
 came the most talked of man in the country. 
 He, too, gained his fame in Texas by defeat- 
 ing Santa Anna, the prime mover in the 
 Alamo outrage. But to-day Houston is only 
 an ensign in his regiment — a strapping young 
 man clad like an Indian, a man to whom 
 fear was a word the meaning of which he 
 knew nothing. 
 
 When Jackson reached the famous Talla- 
 poosa bend he halted and took a survey of 
 the defenses. His quick, military eye easily 
 determined the weak spot in the plan of the 
 savages, and calling up his old friend. Gen- 
 eral Coffee, who commanded all the mounted 
 men and a tribe of friendly Indians, he sent 
 him down the river with his force, ordering 
 him to ford the stream two miles below, and 
 creep up the opposite bank until abreast of 
 88 
 
TAHOPEKA 
 
 the toe of the Horseshoe. He was to let his 
 arrival be known through a messenger. 
 
 While Coffee was on his way as direct- 
 ed, Jackson hauled his artillery to a point 
 of vantage near the wall, and then quietly 
 waited. 
 
 It was late in March. The live-oaks were 
 green, the flowers were blooming, the sun 
 was warm and pleasant, and there was little 
 about the land to remind one of the bleak 
 early spring of the North. Birds chirped and 
 flew about, ignorant of the convulsion that 
 was soon to jar the silent air. Not a sound 
 was heard. Outside in the forest lay two 
 thousand men ready to leap up at the word 
 of command, inside were concealed one 
 thousand savages thirsting for blood and 
 scalps, the horrid war-whoop on the tip of 
 every tongue. Every gun was cocked, a 
 finger trembled on every trigger, and many a 
 notched arrow lay at rest ready to be shot 
 from the tightened bow. 
 
 Presently came the word that Coffee had 
 reached his position unobserved, and at once 
 
 89 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 Jackson ordered the bombardment to begin. 
 Then upon the air there broke the thunder 
 of the two cannon, and the affrighted birds 
 wheeled in their flight and plunged into the 
 depths of the forest. 
 
 The first ball buried itself in the soft pal- 
 metto logs, as did the second and third ; so 
 did all of them, in fact, and the savages 
 behind the strong barricade whooped in 
 mingled delight and derision. There was no 
 sign of a breach — nor a sign that one would 
 be made — and both officers and men be- 
 sought the general to order an assault. But 
 this Jackson hesitated to do, not wishing to 
 sacrifice the lives necessary to such an under- 
 taking ; however, he stationed his riflemen in 
 trees at close range, and many a savage be- 
 hind the wall fell under their skilful fire. 
 Thus the general waited for an auspicious 
 moment to send a mass of troops against 
 the enemy. 
 
 90 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE END OF THE CREEKS 
 
 And the moment soon came. Coffee 
 from the safe haven of the opposite bank 
 heard the thunder of the guns and chafed at 
 his inactivity, probably thinking there was but 
 little glory in cutting off the escape of a beaten 
 enemy, should it come to that, while his com- 
 panions in arms were risking their lives. He 
 knew by the sound of derisive shouting and 
 the dropping fire of rifles that not much was 
 being accomplished in front, and soon re- 
 solved to take an active hand in the battle 
 on his own account. 
 
 First he ordered the best swimmers among 
 his Indian allies to cross the river and cut 
 away and bring back all the canoes that 
 swung at the foot of the bluff ; he could see 
 that the enemy, not having a suspicion of a 
 force in their rear, had left their fleet un- 
 
 91 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 guarded. Coffee's act was for a twofold pur- 
 pose, one of which was to keep the Creeks 
 from escaping if they were beaten. The 
 move was perfectly successful, not a man or 
 canoe being lost, and he was now ready to 
 become more aggressive. He ordered Colo- 
 nel Morgan and his famous riflemen to take 
 the stolen canoes, cross over, set fire to the 
 Indian village, and attack the foe at the 
 breastworks in the rear. This, too, was suc- 
 cessful, and soon, by the smoke rising from 
 the burning huts as well as by the distant 
 shots Jackson saw that a timely diversion had 
 been effected, and, as it quickly became ap- 
 parent that Morgan was being driven back 
 by force of numbers, he ordered a general 
 assault on the wall. 
 
 The order was received with a shout, and 
 the men, leaping up, pressed forward. Many 
 fell under the terrible fire that met them, but 
 the rest forced their way up to the very loop- 
 holes, and thrusting in their rifles, played 
 havoc with the defenders. But the whites 
 paid dearly for their bravery. The Creeks 
 92 
 
THE END OF THE CREEKS 
 
 rallied to the wall and cut them down with a 
 return fire ; indeed, so sharp was the contest 
 that two rifles were often thrust through the 
 same loophole but in opposite directions and 
 both contestants fell dead under a simultane- 
 ous explosion. It soon became plain that 
 the wall could only be carried by climbing 
 its height ; and again the men swept forward. 
 Curses, shouts, and the blood-curdling 
 war-whoop now filled the air. Rifles cracked, 
 balls whistled, and the deadly bowstring 
 twanged its sharp note of death. Running 
 men fell, and the living tripped over them, 
 but onward went the assaulters, this time 
 to top the wall or die at the foot of it. 
 Major Montgomery, of the Thirty-ninth 
 Regiment, was the first man to reach the crest 
 of the defense, but at once fell dead with a 
 ball through his brain. The second man 
 was Ensign Houston, who received a barbed 
 arrow in his thigh before he had fairly gained 
 the top, but he was soon joined by a host of 
 others and the ramparts were cleared, the 
 savages falling back to the cover and the 
 
 93 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 forest and fighting for each foot of ground 
 with a stubbornness that was wonderful. 
 But stubbornness only delayed the fatal mo- 
 ment, and, as had been foreseen by Jackson, 
 the battle became a slaughter, for the In- 
 dians, fearing torture if captured, asked for 
 no quarter and gave none. A wounded Indian 
 was nearly as dangerous as one unhurt. To 
 approach him with a humane desire to relieve 
 his thirst or sufferings was to meet with death, 
 if the means of causing death were at his hand. 
 A wounded white might have appealed to 
 a rattlesnake about to strike with as fair 
 an expectancy of having mercy shown him. 
 Down came the merciless tomahawk, and 
 off came the reeking scalp ere there was time 
 for a prayer. Thus the cry soon became "No 
 prisoners, no mercy." It was a battle in 
 which the result for each side was to be 
 victory or death. 
 
 This condition of things was due to the 
 Indian prophets, who, by means of fantastic 
 dress and more fantastic rites, had made the 
 great bulk of the savages believe that they, 
 
 94 
 
THE END OF THE CREEKS 
 
 the prophets, had been gifted by the Great 
 Spirit above all men. They averred that a 
 surrounding magic defended them from the 
 bullet of the white man, and foretold a great 
 victory over the invaders. They assured the 
 warriors that for a brave to die fighting 
 was a warrant for everlasting happiness ; he 
 would be at once ushered into the ** happy 
 hunting-ground," where would be found his 
 squaw, his wigwam, his gun, and bliss 
 evermore. To be taken prisoner was to be 
 slowly tortured by the whites, and in this case 
 death would not open an immediate Elysium. 
 
 And the simple children of the forest be- 
 lieved these things and pinned their faith on 
 the words of the undoubted tricksters. No 
 wonder the savages fought like fiends. A 
 white scalp was a passport to glory on earth ; 
 death, to a glory greater by far. 
 
 And so they struggled. From tree to 
 tree they flitted like dusky ghosts. From 
 behind each trunk a bullet flew, each bush 
 sent out a spurt of flame, but backward rolled 
 the war-whoop as backward under the pres- 
 
 95 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 sure of the trained soldiers the diminishing 
 Indians were forced, and when finally the de- 
 feated savages broke for the river they came 
 face to face with the fact that their village 
 was in flames, their canoes gone, and the way 
 of escape closed. Men, women, and children 
 were massed in terrible confusion, but ever 
 the white man's rifle-bullet fell among them 
 and mere defeat became maddening despera- 
 tion. 
 
 But there was no surrender. Scores of 
 Indians plunged into the current, essaying to 
 swim across, but they were met by a storm 
 of shot from the other side, and their lifeless 
 carcasses turned over and sank, or floated 
 down the stream. How many died this way 
 no mortal knows, but two hundred was con- 
 sidered a modest computation; a tufted head 
 became a mark for many rifles, and few, if 
 any, found safety by swimming. 
 
 At last a number of the defeated savages 
 took refuge in a thick clump of tangled de- 
 bris and fallen timber at a point on the 
 river's bank, and for hours foiled all attempts 
 
 96 
 

 Pl 
 
 1^ 
 
 «• 
 
 'J ^ ^ 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^Sp**^**-***-"*^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 P-— 
 
 
 
 ;^;rg-^M| 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 IHI^^ 
 
 ^^^M^^Hii^tt^H 
 
 d 
 
 
 |ki/ 'Jt^^^^H 
 
 BB^SP^^^ 
 
 8 
 
 
 BKi '"^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 
 
 Scores of Indians plunged into the current. 
 
THE END OF THE CREEKS 
 
 to remove them. They were perfectly shel- 
 tered, and though they might finally be 
 starved out, Jackson had no time for siege 
 tactics. The gallant Houston, who had torn 
 the barbed arrow from his thigh and roughly 
 bound up the wound, attempted to lead a 
 few volunteers into this stronghold, but at 
 the first discharge of shots by the hidden foe 
 he fell with two bullets in his shoulder, and 
 was borne off totally disabled. The attack 
 failed. The position could not be forced by 
 assault without a terrible loss of life, and it 
 was finally determined to burn the Indians 
 from their lair. Fire was set to the mass of 
 brush, and as it became too hot to hold them, 
 the savages, one by one, took to the river 
 only to meet the fate of their companions, 
 being mercilessly shot as they appeared. 
 One old chief, of all, escaped. With a head 
 full of ready invention, and cool, withal, he 
 forced the pith from a reed, and lying under 
 water close to the shore, breathed through 
 the hollow stem until dark and then swam 
 the stream in safety. 
 
 97 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 A terrible night followed this terrible 
 day. Lurking savages, hidden beneath piles 
 of slain, lay in wait for an opportunity to es- 
 cape, or, failing in this, to send one more 
 soldier to a sudden and unexpected death. 
 Numbers of them were unearthed by parties 
 detailed to gather and bury the dead, and 
 even at this hopeless pass the discovered 
 savage would not surrender, but had to be 
 shot. In the morning great numbers were 
 found hidden in nooks and corners or sham- 
 ming death in the open ; refusing to submit, 
 they, too, were shot, and so helped to fill the 
 long list of the slain. Five hundred and 
 fifty-seven Indians were found dead on the 
 peninsula, which had been a veritable trap 
 for them, and with those killed while at- 
 tempting to cross the stream, over seven 
 hundred of the one thousand had been sent 
 to their long home. Among the dead were 
 found three prophets dressed in their out- 
 landish rig, stricken down by the bullets 
 they had declared harmless. Jackson's loss, 
 though severe, was as nothing in comparison 
 
 98 
 
THE END OF THE CREEKS 
 
 to that of the Creeks. Fifty-five of the 
 troops were killed outright and one hundred 
 and forty-six were wounded more or less 
 severely. The dead soldiers were sunk in 
 the deepest part of the river so that no re- 
 turning savage could get at their scalps, and 
 with his wounded men on hastily constructed 
 litters, Jackson, instead of stopping to rest, 
 began a retrograde movement toward his 
 source of supplies, with the intention of at 
 once pushing his force into what the savages 
 called their " holy ground," a section of the 
 country on which, they said, no white man 
 could walk and live. 
 
 But the white man did walk there, nor 
 did he die from the effect. By the time our 
 fiery general had reached the so-called sacred 
 land, the war was over; the savages dispersed 
 before he caught sight of them. Their spirit 
 was broken, their nation crushed. Since 
 the war began fully one-half of their fighting 
 force had been killed, the rest were scattered, 
 and, like most hunted men, ready to make 
 terms at any cost. Some few of the refugees 
 
 99 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 made their way to Florida, where they after- 
 ward created trouble, but were finally beaten 
 by the same general. Jackson, or **old Jack," 
 became a terrible name to the Indians ; it was 
 of as much potency as a battery of artillery. 
 With Jackson as leader, a fight against the 
 whites was looked upon as hopeless. 
 
 Soon the beaten chiefs began to come in, 
 hoping to make their peace with the great 
 general, but the great general now looked at 
 the fawning savages with a scowl and sternly 
 ordered them to the North, where they would 
 be dealt with according to their deserts. 
 Thus the great Southwest was cleared, and 
 cleared forever, of hostile Indians. Settlers 
 soon poured in, and the dark forests fell 
 under their bright axes; the sun shone on 
 land that for centuries had never known its 
 smile, and Nature's frown left her face ; Jack- 
 son had kept his word. 
 
 The Southwest was not only clear, but 
 
 was secure. One could now travel from 
 
 Nashville overland to New Orleans and 
 
 never hear a war-whoop or fear an ambush. 
 
 loo 
 
THE END OF THE CREEKS 
 
 Previous to this one could only reach the 
 coast in safety by means of the great rivers, 
 and this was a long and devious route. 
 
 lOl 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 FORT BOWYER 
 
 It is probable that the reader pictures 
 Jackson as, with recovered health, lending his 
 new vigor to the troops and urging them on 
 with drawn sword, flashing eye, and ringing 
 voice. But there was nothing of that kind. 
 Jackson's general health seemed permanently 
 broken. Even during his most strenuous 
 moments he was a physical wreck, and 
 looked it — looked it so completely that stran- 
 gers seeing him for the first time were 
 aghast. It was difficult for them to couple 
 such energy of mind and action with his al- 
 most tottering skeleton. Only on horseback 
 did he partly hide his infirmities and appear 
 like a man. He had not recovered from the 
 wounds given by Jesse Benton ; he never 
 did wholly recover from them. Every move- 
 ment was guarded, though sometimes, in the 
 102 
 
FORT BOWYER 
 
 excitement of heated action, he so far forgot 
 himself as to make a free gesture or violent 
 motion, and the resultant pain so sickened 
 him that he would almost faint and fall from 
 his horse. He was miserably weak, pitifully 
 thin, and so yellow from the malaria of the 
 swamp-infested districts through which he 
 had moved that his face looked like parch- 
 ment. Moreover^ he was afflicted with an 
 intestinal trouble that had become chronic, 
 and which, in its sharper attacks, made him 
 as thoroughly helpless as a newly born in- 
 fant. In these paroxysms the pain was ex- 
 quisite, and even to him unbearable. His 
 only medicine was weak gin and water, and 
 when within the active grip of this malady 
 his only relief was in sitting astride a chair 
 and letting his arms dangle over its back. 
 Somehow this eased him after a time. 
 When, on a march through the forest, he 
 was suddenly stricken, and no chair was 
 within an hundred miles, he had a growing 
 sapling bent to the ground, and throwing his 
 arms over this, he hung for hours, groaning 
 103 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 in agony until the attack passed. Added to 
 this list of infirmities there was one which 
 he might have controlled. He was an in- 
 veterate user of tobacco, smoking with the 
 utmost regularity the long pipes of which he 
 always kept a supply on hand, and chewing 
 to excess. The result of this overindulged 
 habit was to permanently impair his diges- 
 tion and occasion such terrible headaches as 
 to prostrate him. It is not recorded that he 
 fought against this miserable appetite, but if 
 he did he failed to conquer it ; he smoked 
 and chewed till the last. 
 
 But his pains, his weakness, his bodily 
 disabilities, never for an instant affected his 
 purposes. How many men would have 
 pressed forward into a hostile and well-nigh 
 unknown country under these circumstances ? 
 Andrew Jackson's body never accomplished 
 much ; it did not rule him entirely, as some 
 men's bodies rule them ; but his brain, his 
 spirit, and what is termed his " clear grit," 
 were factors which influenced not only his 
 physique but directed the minds and bodies 
 104 
 
FORT BOWYER 
 
 of most of his fellows. His mind did not 
 cure him of his ills, but it kept his ills from 
 killing him. In this spirit of determination 
 lay the secret of both his success in life and 
 the length of his miserable days. 
 
 After the battle of Tahopeka his popu- 
 larity in the Southwest was assured and 
 placed upon a solid foundation ; but so re- 
 mote from each other were the different sec- 
 tions of our vast country that the hero of the 
 Creek War was barely known in the more 
 thickly populated portions. Men in the 
 North heard of Jackson's victories as mere 
 news notices, but at last they began to in- 
 quire who he was. But little was known of 
 the lawyer-soldier outside of his own district, 
 and events and names of the South pene- 
 trated far New England with the weakness 
 of a faint echo. As one traveled from the 
 North to the South the sound grew until at 
 last the name and fame of Jackson domi- 
 nated all others. In his home neighborhood 
 it was almost an insult to the community to 
 push inquiries about the famous son of that 
 105 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 section ; it argued indifference, or, what was 
 worse, inexcusable ignorance. 
 
 But the authorities at Washington had 
 kept him in touch, and could not ignore him 
 without ignoring the people with whom he 
 was a hero ; and when, shortly after the 
 Creek campaign, there came a vacancy in 
 the list of major-generals of the United 
 States army, the position was offered to him, 
 and it was at once accepted. 
 
 This new rank increased Jackson's in- 
 come at a time when he greatly needed more 
 money. His pay was a princely sum for 
 those days, averaging him about six thousand 
 dollars yearly, and never was cash more 
 thoroughly earned. 
 
 But the office permitted of no ease. It 
 is true that the war was over so far as the 
 Creeks were concerned, but England, not 
 discouraged by the defeat of her red allies, 
 was becoming more aggressive toward the 
 South, and now openly threatened the coast. 
 It was evident that Mobile was to be the 
 point of attack, and to Mobile hurried the 
 106 
 
FORT BOWYER 
 
 promoted general. The questions of ill- 
 health and needed rest were not considered ; 
 his duty was plain, and he hastened to do it 
 — we will see with what results. 
 
 At this time (1814) Florida was in the 
 hands of the Spanish, to whom it belonged. 
 According to our treaty with the King of 
 Spain, that power was neutral and was sup- 
 posed to take no part in the war between 
 America and England ; but in defiance of all 
 treaties it did take part, if not actively, in 
 such a way as to help the English. Florida 
 opened her principal port, Pensacola, to the 
 English fleet, and there the English forces 
 made their headquarters, riding their ships in 
 safety on the broad bay and keeping their 
 troops in the fort that protected it. It was 
 a base for supplies that was very necessary 
 to them, as they had none other nearer than 
 the West Indies. 
 
 Colonel Nichols, who had command of 
 
 the British troops, made little attempt to 
 
 conceal the fact that he was about to move 
 
 against Mobile, and Jackson, through his 
 
 107 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 spies, well knew of the contemplated attack. 
 He protested against Spain's breach of inter- 
 national law, and resolved that when the 
 time came he would take matters into his 
 own hands — just then all his energy was 
 directed toward the defense of the threat- 
 ened point. 
 
 As a city, town, or even village, Mobile 
 amounted to nothing in those days, and its 
 capture would have been of little advantage 
 to the British ; but Mobile Bay, with its 
 great system of rivers, was a desirable pos- 
 session, and the town itself, containing about 
 one hundred buildings and a few dilapidated 
 blockhouses, which could be turned into 
 points of defense, would furnish shelter for 
 troops and be a convenient base from which 
 to operate against the surrounding country. 
 If the British could once obtain a foothold 
 in the bay the town must fall, and from the 
 town it would be difficult to dislodge them. 
 
 Thirty miles from Mobile village was 
 Mobile Point, a sandy hook of land that 
 protected the bay from the surges racing in 
 108 
 
FORT BOWYER 
 
 from the great Gulf of Mexico. On this 
 point the United States Government had 
 started to erect a fort which was to command 
 the only channel by which ships could enter 
 the inland waters, but the defense was in an 
 unfinished state ; it had been abandoned for 
 some years and was now falling into ruins. 
 This work was called Fort Bowyer, but has 
 since been renamed Fort Morgan. Save for 
 two twenty-four-pound cannon, six twelve- 
 pound, and a dozen smaller pieces, all exposed 
 to the elements and unmounted, there was lit- 
 tle about the fortification that gave it value as 
 a defensive post. To be sure, there were can-, 
 non-balls, piled up and red with old rust, but 
 there was no powder to back them, nor was 
 there even a bomb-proof to protect the men. 
 But for the hillocks of white sand in its rear 
 — hillocks some of them so high that a gun 
 placed upon them could have commanded 
 the interior of the fort — the place was sur- 
 rounded by the deep-blue sea ; the hot sun 
 shone from a dazzling sky, and the only green 
 near by was that of the coarse, thin grass 
 109 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 clinging to the sand-hills and bending like 
 wires under the fresh gulf breeze. It was all 
 blue and white, silent and desolate. 
 
 no 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE BATTLE 
 
 To this point went Jackson in the latter 
 part of August, 1814. He saw that here lay 
 the key to the whole situation and wondered 
 why the British, when they passed on their 
 way to Pensacola, had not repaired the fort 
 and left a few scores of men to hold it. It 
 would have upset all his plans and probably 
 rendered others useless. Mobile would have 
 been lost. 
 
 But now it was too late ; Jackson had 
 his hand on it. He placed in it 160 men, 
 as, until his promised reenforcements should 
 arrive, he could spare no more. To com- 
 mand them he left Major Lawrence, a brave 
 and competent officer of the regular army, 
 and after supplying the force with some 
 ammunition and provisions and promising 
 more, he returned to Mobile to hurry the 
 111 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 work on the immediate defenses of the town. 
 Though his body could be in but one place 
 at a time, his mind, spirit, and commands 
 were everywhere. He seemed to see things 
 beyond the sight of others, and from his 
 headquarters viewed the situation with the 
 eye of a military genius. 
 
 Meanwhile Major Lawrence went to 
 work to make the fort serve something of its 
 original purpose, and the men hustled about 
 to prepare for the enemy, who might heave 
 in sight at any hour. For twelve days they 
 worked unmolested and with effect, and 
 when on September 12th a lookout came 
 running in to say that the British ships were 
 coming, though all was not completed, 
 enough had been done to enable the little 
 garrison to hope they could make it very 
 warm for their visitors. 
 
 But the work went on even while the 
 British Colonel Nichols landed on the beach 
 a mile or so back of the fort, with 130 Brit- 
 ish marines and over a hundred Indians ; it 
 went on as the British ships anchored off the 
 112 
 
THE BATTLE 
 
 coast and weir out of cannon-shot. These 
 latter were four men-of-war : the Hermes, 
 with twenty-two guns ; the Sophia, eighteen 
 guns ; the Carron, twenty guns ; and the 
 Childers, with eighteen guns. The whole 
 was under command of one Captain Percy, 
 who also commanded the Hermes. 
 
 An easy thing it must have seemed to 
 him to capture the small and unfinished fort. 
 His great ships lay ready at his command, 
 and on the land behind the feeble-looking 
 work were nearly twice the number of men 
 the fort contained; painted Indians, with the 
 war-whoop anxious to leap from their red 
 throats, sturdy marines who looked at the 
 matter as holiday work. The only thing 
 which showed that the way was not open 
 was the little square of bunting on which 
 were the Stars and Bars — stars which Percy 
 could not dim — bars that were to prove too 
 strong for him to break, although his men 
 were five to Lawrence's one. 
 
 Did the last-named officer shrink at the 
 prospect? Not a bit. He called his force 
 
 113 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 together and made the watchword, " Don't 
 give up the fort." They agreed, every man 
 under oath, not to surrender to even an 
 overwhelming force unless they could obtain 
 honorable terms and full protection from 
 the Indians, and with this heroic spirit ani- 
 mating them the men returned to their 
 guns, which had never yet been fired. It is 
 strange, in the face of the result of this bat- 
 tle, that not a man among those detailed to 
 work the artillery had ever handled a large 
 gun ; they were to learn their lesson while 
 fighting, and they learned it well. 
 
 Jackson, thirty miles away, knew noth- 
 ing of the state of things obtaining on the 
 coast until Lawrence sent him a hurried 
 message. In response to this the general 
 forwarded eighty more men — the last he 
 dared spare — and with a spirited reply to the 
 fort's commander left him to defend the 
 point without hope of further help. 
 
 It was an anxious time for the little band 
 by the sea. Each wave that rolled in on the 
 white beach seemed to bear a threat from 
 114 
 
THE BATTLE 
 
 the off-lying fleet ; the soft air whispered 
 danger from another quarter. For a time 
 no move was made, and the Americans still 
 worked and waited. The guns had been 
 mounted, the bomb-proofs finished, but there 
 were yet many weak points to strengthen. 
 
 Presently Captain Woodbine, of the Brit- 
 ish on the land, brought up a howitzer, his 
 only one, and planting it on a high sand- 
 dune about three-quarters of a mile from the 
 fort, fired a shot at the Americans, but the 
 ball did no damage. In reply, Lawrence 
 turned two guns on the spot and the enemy 
 scattered at the first fire ; then again came a 
 long wait. 
 
 Down went the hot sun, but the little 
 garrison, ever vigilant, slept on its arms, 
 each man at his post of duty. The brilliant 
 Southern night brought no change, neither 
 was there as much as an alarm. The day 
 dawned and the scene was unaltered ; there 
 lay the ships, four black threats, and there, 
 well out of range and for the most part out 
 of sight, lay the marines and Indians. As 
 
 115 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 the day wore on, a number of boats, mere 
 specks on the blue water, passed between 
 the shore and the ships, but nothing seemed 
 to come of it ; later in the day a few boats 
 approached and began sounding the channel, 
 but two or three charges of grape-shot from 
 the fort were sent spattering about them, and 
 they withdrew in a hurry. Again there came 
 a blank in events — a wait which strained the 
 nerves of the silent defenders and set their 
 commander wondering what would happen 
 next. 
 
 Down sank the red sun again, and again 
 came a hot, still night. The sentinels, keenly 
 alive to every sound, heard nothing but the 
 dull thunder of the combers on the beach 
 and the hiss of the receding foam. The fol- 
 lowing morning was thick with early mists 
 and many an eye in the fort tried to pierce 
 the fleecy curtain. When, finally, the heat 
 and brisk wind dissipated the fog there still 
 lay the fleet unmoved, and there, too, was the 
 camp of the landed enemy. Were the Brit- 
 ish trying to tire the fort's defenders ? For 
 116 
 
THE BATTLE 
 
 a time it seemed so, but in the course of the 
 morning there was much moving of boats be- 
 tween ships and shore, and at last it became 
 clear that something was about to take place. 
 
 And something did take place, surprising 
 the inmates of the fort as much as though 
 the ships had crawled upon land. The brisk 
 wind had fallen to a light breathing from the 
 south, and soon after the boats ceased pass- 
 ing to and fro ; then every vessel spread its 
 canvas and fled to sea, beating its way down 
 the gulf. 
 
 Had they gone ? Had they given over 
 their first intention without a fight ? Had 
 the little, starry flag frightened them away ? 
 One might have thought so but for the fact 
 that Woodbine and his force remained be- 
 hind in a little sand fortification they had 
 thrown up. Every eye hung on the rece- 
 ding fleet ; smaller and smaller it became, 
 lower and lower sank the black hulls until 
 the blue line of the horizon was over them. 
 Then there was a change. It was about two 
 in the afternoon when the anxious watchers 
 9 117 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 saw the hulls reappear and grow nearer, and 
 at last conviction came. The ships had gone 
 out to form ; they were now sailing down 
 the wind in line of battle ; they were about 
 to attack the fort. 
 
 At the head of the line came the Hermes 
 and the larger guns of the fort engaged her 
 at long range. She replied with spirit, but 
 no damage was done. On she came, proudly 
 and bravely, right up the narrow channel 
 which ran under the guns of the fort, and 
 when she had approached to within less than 
 easy musket-shot, she dropped her anchors, 
 swung around and let go a whole broadside, 
 the crash of which received a prompt an- 
 swer in the shape of a shower of round shot 
 from the fort. The other vessels followed 
 the lead of the Hermes, and though they 
 were not quite so near the fort as the flag- 
 ship, they were well within range. 
 
 The thunder of cannon now rolled as it 
 
 had never before rolled over Mobile Point, 
 
 nor was it to roll again until the gallant Far- 
 
 ragut passed that way nearly twoscore ye^rs 
 
 118 
 
THE BATTLE 
 
 after. When the fight was well on Captain 
 Woodbine thought his chance had come, and 
 again brought up his howitzer, but a few 
 shots from the fort silenced him as quickly 
 as before ; his Indians did not relish cannon. 
 As the men fought and became more famil- 
 iar with working the great guns their shots 
 became better and better. They were not 
 demoralized, for as yet, with all the iron hail 
 hurled against them, not a man had been 
 killed. Let us quote from Parton again : 
 
 ** For an hour the firing continued on 
 both sides without a moment's pause, the 
 fleet and the fort enveloped in huge volumes 
 of smoke lighted up by the incessant flash of 
 the guns. At half past five the halliards of 
 the Hermes's flag was severed by a shot and 
 the flag fell into the fire and smoke below. 
 Major Lawrence, thinking it possible that 
 the ship might have surrendered, ceased his 
 fire. A silence of five minutes succeeded, at 
 the expiration of which a new flag fluttered 
 up the masthead of the commodore's ship, 
 and the Sophia, that lay next her, renewed 
 119 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 the strife by firing a whole broadside at once. 
 In the interval every gun in the fort had 
 been loaded, and the broadside was returned 
 with a salvo that shook the earth. A most 
 furious firing succeeded and continued for 
 some time longer without any important 
 mishap occurring on either side." 
 
 But the shot that cut the flag-line on the 
 Hermes was not the only lucky one that 
 went hurtling across the water from the fort. 
 A better one was to come. In the hottest 
 part of the action a ball cut the stern cable 
 of the Hermes, and the tide, catching her, 
 swung her around bow on to the fort in such 
 a position that not a single gun could bear. 
 Lawrence saw his chance and directed his 
 full fire at the helpless vessel. For nearly 
 half an hour she lay thus exposed to a furi- 
 ous raking cannonade. Her deck was soon 
 swept clear of every man and she could 
 neither be worked nor fought. In this con- 
 dition, as inert as a log of wood, she slowly 
 drifted along until she grounded in shallow 
 water, and her commander, seeing her help- 
 120 
 
A new flag was planted on the ramparts. 
 
THE BATTLE 
 
 less position and not wishing to surrender 
 her, set her afire after transferring his 
 wounded to the Sophia. 
 
 During all this time the other ships were 
 sending their iron rain at the fort. Finally 
 a chance shot cut down the flagstaff, and as 
 it fell. Woodbine, with his Indians, came 
 charging up, thinking that Lawrence had 
 surrendered. But their eyes were at once 
 opened to the mistake, for they were re- 
 ceived by a galling burst of grape-shot that 
 sent the Indians howling away to the protec- 
 tion of the sand-dunes, and the rest beat a 
 quick retreat. In a minute more a new flag 
 was nailed to a sponging-rod and planted on 
 the ramparts. The Stars and Bars again 
 floated, nor had they been hauled down. 
 
 As soon as the crew of the Hermes had 
 gained the deck of the Sophia, that vessel, 
 which had been severely handled and conse- 
 quently crippled, made haste to escape the 
 fate of the flag-ship ; but she had a hard 
 time of it, though finally she got out of 
 range. The remaining two of the fleet hav- 
 
 121 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 ing been at a greater distance from the spite- 
 ful little fort, were not seriously damaged, 
 but seeing the action of the Sophia, they 
 recognized the futility of trying to reduce 
 their enemy, and therefore hoisted their sails 
 and put to sea in hot haste. 
 
 Though the battle was won, and as a bat- 
 tle was over, the Americans kept up their 
 fire on the Hermes until the flames Percy 
 had kindled broke out and heralded the 
 ship's speedy destruction. All that evening 
 she burned, a magnificent sight, lighting up 
 the sea for miles around ; near midnight the 
 fire reached her well-stored magazine and she 
 blew up with a deafening detonation. It 
 was a grand finale, and the black darkness 
 that now fell on land and water bore no 
 more terrors for the little garrison. Mobile 
 Bay and Mobile town had been saved. 
 
 At dawn the next day the vicinity was 
 clear of enemies. Nichols and Woodbine, 
 with their marines and Indians, had gone, 
 and in the offing were seen the three ships 
 that bore them away. They came back no 
 
 122 
 
THE BATTLE 
 
 more. Two of the marines stayed behind, 
 however — deserters from the British service 
 — and they told how severely their former 
 friends had been handled. Their report was 
 probably exaggerated, but the British af- 
 terward acknowledged a loss of thirty-two 
 killed and forty wounded ; the Americans 
 lost four men by death, and six through 
 wounds caused by the bursting of a car- 
 tridge. The fort was badly battered, how- 
 ever, though it had not been greatly weak- 
 ened. Two of the biggest guns had been 
 cracked in firing ; two more had been 
 knocked out of service, while one had burst 
 and the muzzle of another had been broken 
 off by a heavy ball from the ships. The 
 exultant men counted some three hundred 
 shot-holes in the fort's walls, and the land 
 around looked as if it had been plowed. 
 On the other hand, of all the guns the fort 
 contained only twelve pieces had been in 
 active use against the fleet, yet the record 
 showed that they had thrown seven hundred 
 balls. 
 
 123 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 What a weight of iron must have passed 
 between ships and fort ! what a wonder that 
 such a small loss of life resulted ! One of 
 our modern guns could do more service or 
 damage in a dozen well-placed shots than 
 did all the armament on that memorable day 
 off Mobile Point. 
 
 124 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 PENSACOLA 
 
 Did Jackson now draw a long sigh of 
 relief and rest ? Not he. He was in a frenzy 
 of anxiety. It was true that the enemy had 
 gone — but where had he gone? New Or- 
 leans lay wide open to almost any force, and 
 yet Jackson felt powerless. The promised 
 reenforcements had not arrived, and to move 
 his small force from Fort Bowyer was to risk 
 losing the fruits of the late fight. For six 
 long weeks Jackson waited, and hoped, and 
 swore at the tardiness of officials, but in the 
 interval he heard that Nichols had returned 
 to Pensacola, and was preparing for active 
 service elsewhere. What point could he be 
 aiming at but the pride of the Southwest — 
 the Crescent City — New Orleans ? 
 
 At the end of six weeks new men began 
 to come in, his friend Coffee at the head 
 125 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 of 2,800 fresh troops, with the rest, and by 
 November ist Jackson found himself at 
 the head of 4,000 men and a few friendly 
 Indians. 
 
 During his long wait his wrath against 
 Pensacola and the Spanish governor there 
 had waxed hotter and hotter, and when he 
 found himself backed by a respectable army 
 he knew well enough what his next move 
 would be. He had communicated his plans 
 to the Secretary of War in Washington, and 
 in the rather blind answer from that official 
 he found, or thought he found, permission to 
 go ahead. In this correspondence about 
 Pensacola there were sowed the seeds of no 
 end of trouble, which, in after-years, bore 
 bitter fruit for many men, but that has 
 nothing to do with this story. 
 
 Jackson was about to move. As his men 
 took little or no baggage and but eight days' 
 rations, it was evident that the irascible gen- 
 eral looked for a short campaign, and a short 
 one it was. The weather there was not the 
 bleak November weather of the North, but 
 126 
 
PENSACOLA 
 
 was warm and pleasant, and as the troops 
 were in high spirits and in full sympathy with 
 their errand, that of routing the British from 
 Pensacola, they marched rapidly on, and by 
 the sixth of the month the army had arrived 
 within a mile and a half of the town. They 
 wasted no time here, though they halted by 
 the roadside long enough for one of the offi- 
 cers. Major Pierce, to take a message from 
 Jackson demanding the surrender of all the 
 fortifications and munitions of war. The gen- 
 eral promised to hold them in trust, give 
 a receipt for them, and expressly stated that 
 nothing was to be destroyed ; he was not 
 making war on Spain, but upon the English 
 who were under Spanish protection. This 
 message was sent to the governor with the 
 assurance that the inhabitants of the town, 
 their religion, and the town itself would re- 
 main unmolested if his demands were com- 
 plied with, but the English should go ; he 
 had come to drive them out, and drive them 
 out he would. 
 
 At this high-handed demand the fright- 
 127 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 ened governor knew not how to act. With 
 the British on one side and a threatening force 
 on the other he was in a pitiable state ; but 
 the fear of the British prevailed, and he hes- 
 itatingly refused to comply with Jackson's 
 demand. 
 
 When the envoy returned to the general 
 and communicated the answer it was night. 
 The old veteran was not excited as he lis- 
 tened to the report ; he neither raved nor 
 swore, but his thin lips came together in a 
 fine line, and rising to his feet he simply 
 said : 
 
 *' Turn out the troops ! " 
 
 It was before daylight on November 
 7th that the soldiers formed and marched 
 upon the road by the side of which they 
 had bivouacked. The country about was 
 open and level, and the growing light ex- 
 posed them to the enemy as they approached. 
 For a mile or more they marched openly, 
 and as they came within range they were 
 fired upon by a battery of two guns, while a 
 shower of musket-balls came from behind 
 128 
 
PENSACOLA 
 
 the shelter of houses and garden-walls. But 
 on went the troops with a firmness that com- 
 manded the admiration of Jackson himself. 
 In a letter to Governor Blout he said of 
 them : 
 
 ** My pride was never more heightened 
 than in viewing the uniform firmness of my 
 troops, and with what undaunted courage 
 they advanced, with a strong fort ready to 
 assail them on the right, seven armed vessels 
 on the left, strong blockhouses and batteries 
 of cannon in their front ; but they still ad- 
 vanced with unbroken firmness and entered 
 the town." 
 
 The battery that had opened fire was soon 
 carried, and the musketry from the gardens 
 ceased as it was returned with effect. On 
 went the soldiers and down went a second 
 battery before it had time to load but twice. 
 It was evident that the blood of ** Old Hick- 
 ory " was up, and that the town would suffer 
 for its reception of him, but at this point the 
 totally demoralized governor came running 
 from his house wildly waving a white hand- 
 129 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 kerchief as a flag of truce. He now prom- 
 ised that if the town was spared he would 
 surrender it and all its forts and defenses, 
 and with this understanding Jackson ordered 
 a cessation of hostilities. But whether by 
 what the general called " Spanish treachery " 
 or through a misunderstanding of orders, all 
 the forts were not surrendered at once. One 
 after another hauled down their flags ; all but 
 the most important one of the whole — Fort 
 Barrancas — in which were a large number of 
 English, and which, if in possession of the 
 Americans, would have held the English 
 ships as in a trap. It was six miles from 
 the town, and commanded the bay with its 
 guns. 
 
 Jackson wished this work, and it was 
 promised him, but the delay of the governor 
 in giving his orders — a delay perhaps una- 
 voidable, perhaps intentional — enabled the 
 English to escape. That night, when the 
 general had fully made up his mind to storm 
 the fortification the next morning, there were 
 heard three explosions, and the report soon 
 130 
 
PENSACOLA 
 
 came that Fort Barrancas had been blown to 
 ruins by the English, who had retreated to 
 their ships and sailed away for an unknown 
 destination. 
 
 Here was victory for Jackson, but his 
 satisfaction was tinctured with great bitter- 
 ness. He had routed out the British and 
 ruined their rendezvous ; but where had they 
 gone ? Was Mobile to be threatened again, 
 and the troops away ? was the battered fort, 
 with its reduced garrison, to fight again and 
 against a larger fleet than before? These 
 questions nearly crazed the general. He 
 hurriedly sent word to Lawrence, who still 
 commanded the fort, to be on his guard, and 
 then he prepared to quit Pensacola ; the 
 place was useless to him without Fort Bar- 
 rancas. 
 
 There was no delay permitted. By the 
 next morning the Americans in full force 
 were on their hurried way back to Mobile; 
 there had not been a single man killed 
 during the fight and there were less than 
 twenty wounded. 
 
 131 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 And at Mobile they found peace pro- 
 found to stagnation. Nothing had hap- 
 pened nor had Lawrence seen a sign of the 
 threatening fleet. Later came the informa- 
 tion that the English had gone to Appalachi- 
 cola and were fortifying the place as though 
 in fear of attack. And well might they 
 have been afraid, now knowing the methods 
 of the American general. The American 
 general, however, did not think them worth 
 his personal attention, so sent one of his 
 officers, a Major Blue, who with some troops 
 and a tribe of friendly Indians made short 
 work of them. The hostile Indians hired by 
 the English were completely defeated and 
 scattered, and the English themselves were 
 forced to get to sea again. There seemed to 
 be no spot on Spanish or American soil on 
 which Nichols could rest his weary feet. 
 
 But Jackson well knew that the end was 
 not yet. There was one point on which he 
 always kept his eye, fearing for it. Mobile 
 was not the most important town on the 
 coast; there was another on which he knew 
 
PENSACOLA 
 
 the English wish was fastened, and believing 
 they were preparing to strike New Orleans, 
 he left General Winchester in charge of 
 Mobile, and bidding General Coffee to fol- 
 low him at a rate that would not tire the 
 troops, he himself departed for the Crescent 
 City. It was a very rough journey for a 
 sick man. One hundred and seventy miles 
 over roads rarely better and sometimes worse 
 than a wood path or a half-drained ditch was 
 an undertaking which would have appalled 
 most men, but Jackson made the trip, and 
 save for his staff of officers he was alone. 
 
 He averaged seventeen miles a day and 
 arrived at New Orleans on the first day of 
 December, 1814. Negotiations to end the 
 war between England and America were 
 then pending — were about completed — but 
 Jackson did not know it. 
 
 10 
 
 »33 
 
CHAPTER Xin 
 
 THE BRITISH LAND 
 
 The prematurely aged man was in a state 
 bordering on collapse when he entered the 
 city. He was thoroughly exhausted and 
 had to be helped from his horse, but instead 
 of taking to his bed for needed rest he 
 plunged at once into the business that had 
 brought him there. 
 
 New Orleans lay wide open to the 
 enemy, and had they come at this time 
 scarcely a show of opposition would have 
 met them. It is true that there were some 
 half-filled regiments, beautifully drilled but 
 poorly equipped; it is true that the best 
 blood of the city was within their ranks and 
 that they lacked nothing in valor and ability ; 
 but up to General Jackson's arrival there 
 had been no head to lead them, or rather, 
 there had been a dozen heads pulling in 
 
 134 
 
THE BRITISH LAND 
 
 different directions. Governor Claiborne, 
 alive to the condition of matters and full of 
 fear for the future, had convened an extra 
 session of the Legislature, hoping that some 
 way to meet the growing danger would be 
 revealed, but the Legislature contented itself 
 with appointing a few weak committees with 
 illy defined powers, and then the members 
 fell to quarreling among themselves. It was 
 evident that but few looked upon the danger 
 as real, and yet, while the people were 
 dreaming of security but taking no means 
 to obtain it, a British fleet of fifty ships 
 carrying a thousand guns, twenty thousand 
 soldiers, and ten thousand sailors had left 
 Negril Bay, on the shore of the island of 
 Jamaica, West Indies, and the entire force was 
 bearing down upon the undefended city. 
 
 But, as in the case of Mobile Bay, Jack- 
 son arrived first, and, waving the magic 
 wand of his intense personality, threw a new 
 atmosphere over the community. All was 
 changed ; order came out of confusion, and 
 the many divergent interests, centered in the 
 
 135 
 
THE LAND KERO OF 1812 
 
 mighty intellect of this one sick man, moved 
 smoothly toward a single end. It was he, and 
 he alone, who expressed entire confidence in 
 his ability to defend New Orleans, and that, 
 too, at a time when he had less than a 
 thousand muskets to back him. This con- 
 fidence inspired confidence, and the think- 
 ing men of the town who had previously 
 deplored the laxity of the authorities and 
 quailed at the prospects held for the future, 
 now smiled, shook hands with each other on 
 the streets, and blessed Jackson as the man 
 of destiny. 
 
 The general, often tottering from weak- 
 ness, rode here, there, and everywhere deliver- 
 ing his orders instead of opinions. He first 
 placed the city under martial law, then he set 
 certain men to doing certain things, and they 
 were done. Every wire that moved the mass 
 ended in his hands. After inspecting the 
 country about the town he determined the 
 weak points and the strong points and set 
 about strengthening the former — the latter, 
 he saw, might care for themselves. 
 136 
 
THE BRITISH LAND 
 
 The city of New Orleans is but a few 
 feet above the level of the sea and is itself 
 built on quaking soil. All about, save on 
 the river-side, are marshes and lagoons in- 
 terspersed, along the river's bank, with great 
 sugar-cane fields and fruit orchards where the 
 apple and golden orange ripen side by side. 
 The front door of the city opens upon the 
 Mississippi River, here a mighty stream 
 nearly a mile wide, hundreds of feet deep, 
 and moving with majestic force at a rate of 
 more than four miles an hour. 
 
 This powerful current was a protection 
 to the city from the river-side ; none of the 
 unwieldy ships of war of that day could 
 stem such a tide with an average wind, and 
 should a favorable wind blow and waft them 
 up the river they would be at the mercy of 
 the stream when it became calm. 
 
 But as if the feat of sailing up the river 
 was possible, it was further protected by a 
 fort — Fort St. Philip, about half-way be- 
 tween the city and the gulf, and on the 
 broad bosom of the flood lay two vessels 
 
 137 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 of war — the ship Louisiana and the little 
 schooner Carolina, both unmanned, but each 
 was to play an important part in the fight 
 that was to come. 
 
 Jackson saw that the mighty strength of 
 the giant stream was sufficient protection on 
 one side, but on the other, giving easy ac- 
 cess to the city's back door, lay Lakes Pon- 
 chartrain and Borgne, connected by a narrow 
 strait and accessible from the sea by light- 
 draft vessels. Should the enemy obtain 
 possession of these sheets of water they 
 could come close to their prey, and thus it 
 became necessary to put up a gate to stop 
 them. This gate was a small fort on the 
 strait connecting the lakes, and to further 
 strengthen it a fleet of six sailing vessels with 
 twenty-three guns and nearly two hundred 
 men under command of Lieutenant Thomas 
 Jones was stationed on Lake Borgne. Lieu- 
 tenant Jones was to at once notify Jackson 
 of the approach of the enemy in that direc- 
 tion, and then to fight to the last extremity. 
 
 But of course it was not to be expected 
 
 138 
 
THE BRITISH LAND 
 
 that six little gunboats and a few score of 
 men could withstand the powerful force com- 
 ing against them. The great ships of the 
 British counted for nothing but as so many 
 bases of supply and a means of carrying an 
 army, but there were plenty of small boats 
 and plenty of men to fill them, and against 
 these Jackson had his army. 
 
 At least he counted on having one. Gen- 
 eral Coffee was on his way ; he was bring- 
 ing about four thousand men, the army of 
 Pensacola, but now nearly a tenth of them 
 were sick. In Tennessee there was being 
 raised a volunteer force under General Car- 
 roll, but not one in ten had a firearm of any 
 kind, though they were supplied later. From 
 Kentucky two thousand men were coming a 
 roundabout way of fifteen hundred miles — 
 men only, unprovided with any of the neces- 
 sities for making war, but filled with the 
 spirit that makes heroes. So meager were 
 their supplies that it is recorded of these 
 Kentuckians that they had but one cooking 
 kettle to each eighty mcfiy and yet they 
 
 139 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 ' 
 
 marched with their heads high, and in the 
 end fought like devils. In all, Jackson ex- 
 pected to have — and finally did have — be- 
 tween six and seven thousand men, though 
 many went to supply the garrison of Fort 
 St. Philip and the fort on the strait, and as 
 many more went to the lake fleet and the 
 war-ships Louisiana and Carolina. This 
 was the situation on December 14th, the 
 only available force being but two thousand 
 armed men. 
 
 The British were three weeks in coming, 
 sailing pleasantly over a lovely sea (for they 
 were in the tropics), joking about the easy 
 victory they were to have, and vastly pleased 
 at the coming humility of the Yankees. And 
 why not ? They were the veterans of the 
 Peninsular War, flushed with victory after 
 victory, and many of them had been trained 
 under the eye of the *' Iron Duke " Welling- 
 ton. They thought the Yankees were to be 
 as nothing against their mettle. 
 
 On the 2 2d of December they anchored 
 off Lake Borgne. From the British ships 
 140 
 
THE BRITISH LAND 
 
 and over the low and level marshes could be 
 seen the little fleet that was to oppose their 
 farther approach, and the British commander 
 at once determined to get rid of it, as no 
 forward movement could be made until the 
 gunboats were either captured or destroyed. 
 Against Jones and his six little vessels he sent 
 fifty large open boats filled with marines. 
 As a dead calm prevailed at the time the 
 American commander could not retreat to 
 the protection of the guns of the fort, and 
 after a brave but hopeless fight he was 
 obliged to surrender. The way was now 
 open for the enemy. New Orleans was 
 eighty miles away, the road to it unob- 
 structed save by the fort, which could be 
 flanked if the British determined to attack 
 by the back door. And the alarm had not 
 been given. 
 
 Nor did the alarm reach the city save by 
 the merest chance. The English captured 
 every guard-boat and guard they came across, 
 and only by the escape of one of their prison- 
 ers, a young major by the name of Gabriel 
 141 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 Valler^, who was caught upon his father's 
 plantation while doing picket duty, was a 
 complete surprise averted. Judge Walker 
 thus describes the scene that ensued on 
 Major Valler^'s arrival with the news, for 
 until that moment the general had no sus- 
 picion that the British ships were off the 
 coast, that Jones had been defeated, and that 
 the enemy, who had at last found the road 
 they had been looking for, that along the 
 river-bank, had advanced quickly and were 
 at that hour bivouacked within eight miles of 
 New Orleans. 
 
 " During all the exciting events of this 
 campaign Jackson had hardly the strength to 
 stand erect without support; his body was 
 sustained alone by the spirit within. Ordi- 
 nary men would have shrunk into feeble im- 
 beciles or useless invalids under such a pres- 
 sure. The disease contracted in the swamps 
 of Alabama still clung to him. Reduced to a 
 mere skeleton, unable to digest his food, and 
 unrefreshed by sleep, his life seemed to be 
 preserved by some miraculous agency. There 
 142 
 
THE BRITISH LAND 
 
 in the parlor of his headquarters in Royal 
 Street, surrounded by his faithful and efficient 
 aides, he worked day and night, organizing 
 his forces, despatching orders, receiving re- 
 ports, and making all the necessary arrange- 
 ments for the defense of the city. 
 
 ** Jackson was thus engaged at half past 
 one o'clock on the twenty-third day of De- 
 cember, 1814, when his attention was drawn 
 from certain documents he was carefully read- 
 ing by the sound of horses galloping down 
 the streets with more rapidity than comported 
 with the order of a city under martial law. 
 The sounds ceased at the door of his head- 
 quarters, and the sentinel on duty announced 
 the arrival of three gentlemen who desired to 
 see the general immediately, having impor- 
 tant intelligence to communicate. 
 
 " ' Show them in,' ordered the general. 
 
 " The visitors proved to be Mr. Dussau 
 de la Croix, Major Gabriel Vallere, and 
 Colonel de la Ronde. They were stained 
 with mud, and nearly breathless with the 
 rapidity of their ride. 
 
 H3 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 ** ' What news do you bring, gentlemen ? ' 
 eagerly asked the general. 
 
 " * Important ! Highly important ! ' re- 
 sponded Mr. de la Croix. *The British 
 have arrived at Vallere's plantation, nine 
 miles below the city, and are there encamped. 
 Here is Major Vallere, who was captured by 
 them, has escaped, and will now relate his 
 story.' 
 
 " The major accordingly detailed in a 
 perspicuous manner all the occurrences we 
 have related, employing his mother-tongue, 
 jthe French language, which De la Croix 
 translated to the general. At the close of 
 Major Vallere's narrative the general ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 ** * By the Eternal ! They shall not sleep 
 upon our soil ! ' " 
 
 " Then courteously inviting his visitors to 
 refresh themselves, and sipping a glass of 
 wine in compliment to them, he turned to 
 his secretary and aides and remarked : 
 
 ** * Gentlemen, the British are below ; we 
 must fight them to-night ! "* 
 144 
 
THE BRITISH LAND 
 
 From his confidence, serenity, and the 
 tone of his voice one might have thought 
 that a long-looked-for moment had at length 
 arrived and that the matter had fallen ex- 
 actly in line with his hopes, expectations, and 
 preparations. On the contrary, Jackson was 
 not at all prepared to see the enemy any- 
 where, much less so near the city. The 
 knowledge had come to him with the sud- 
 denness of a blow. 
 
 His force had greatly increased, however, 
 which was fortunate, but his willingness or 
 anxiety to fight was due more to his knowl- 
 edge of human nature than to a wish to 
 avenge the insult to the soil. A quick and 
 unexpected attack would do much to demor- 
 alize the enemy and make them cautious, 
 while a tardy meeting would give his own 
 green troops a chance to think, and perhaps 
 fear and tremble, at the same time allowing 
 the British an opportunity to choose their 
 ground and work with deliberation. 
 
 It is hardly to be thought that with his 
 untrained force and in the open field Jack- 
 
 H5 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 son hoped to defeat the veterans of England, 
 but he gave his orders as though he expected 
 to drive the foe back into the gulf from 
 which he came. To the head of each com- 
 mand went an order to break camp and go to 
 the front ; there they were to await the gen- 
 eral's arrival. Among the rest, Commodore 
 Patterson was sent for and requested to have 
 his two vessels (which had recently been 
 manned with green hands) ready to weigh 
 anchor and go down the river at short no- 
 tice. 
 
 It looked as though the thing had been 
 mapped out and prearranged days before, 
 but it had not. The orders, full of detail 
 which is not here given, were not due to the 
 meditation of days or even hours ; the plan 
 was the work of minutes. 
 
 146 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE NIGHT ATTACK 
 
 After a space of incredible mental ac- 
 tivity, the general sat down to his dinner as 
 cool as a cucumber. The dinner was of 
 boiled rice and nothing else, as that was all 
 the food his stomach could tolerate. A very 
 little of this sufficed him, and when he had 
 finished he went to his office and lay on a 
 lounge for a short nap. At three o'clock he 
 was in the saddle going to the front. He 
 was ahead of his troops, and in the lower 
 part of the city he halted to see them come 
 up and pass on their way. As each com- 
 mand arrived it was ordered to press on to 
 the Rodriguez Canal, an old mill-race six 
 miles below the town, which stretched across 
 the firm ground between the river and the 
 swamp-land to the east. At four o'clock, 
 when he had seen the little schooner Caro- 
 
 H7 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 lina drop down the river in pursuance of 
 his orders, he put spurs to his horse and 
 disappeared in the direction his troops had 
 taken. 
 
 From this time on to the next morning 
 no one living can say exactly what happened, 
 and those historians (now long dead) who 
 attempted to describe the fight differ so 
 widely in detail, and even generalities, that the 
 truth is impossible to determine. This much, 
 however, is known : 
 
 First, that Jackson, true to his instincts 
 as an Indian fighter, determined to corner his 
 enemy. They lay near the great levee, or 
 high bank of the river, their bivouac fires 
 glinting across the level plain like so many 
 stars. Recollect that this was during the 
 short days of December. The crops, which 
 had erstwhile decked the land and obstructed 
 extended vision, were now harvested. The 
 sugar-cane fields were all stubble and many 
 of the trees were barren of leaf. Second, 
 the view showed the British position, and the 
 general saw that if he could get a force to 
 148 
 
THE NIGHT ATTACK 
 
 hold the enemy from direct retreat he might 
 attack in front and drive the invaders into the 
 mighty stream near which they lay. Third, 
 that accordingly he sent for General Cof- 
 fee and ordered him to take his riflemen, 
 flank the enemy, and be prepared to attack 
 when signaled. Fourth, that he ordered the 
 Carolina to drop down the stream, anchor 
 abreast of the British camp, and open fire with 
 her single great gun and all her smaller ones. 
 This was to be the signal for the general at- 
 tack. Until the great metal throat bellowed 
 its note of war not a sound was to come 
 from the American army. Just then its 
 presence was unsuspected. Jackson had 
 acted with wisdom, despatch, and secrecy. 
 
 The two forces were then fairly matched 
 in numbers. The British in front, under the 
 command of General Keane, was but the van- 
 guard of the army, which was too far away to 
 readily support it; while with him Jackson 
 had but few more than two thousand men, 
 most of them unused to battle. On the Car- 
 olina and Louisiana not one man in five knew 
 
 II 
 
 149 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 anything about a ship and had to learn their 
 duties in doing them. 
 
 Though silence was commanded in the 
 American army, the command was hardly 
 necessary. The troops were too full of an 
 appreciation of their position to be very hila- 
 rious. Those who had food ate it if they 
 were hungry, but there was little hunger dis- 
 played. The time was full of tension. Men 
 spoke in whispers as they lay on the ground 
 and watched the misty moon rise above the 
 swamp. Many hoped it would be too dark 
 to fight — but alas for their hopes ! 
 
 The moon failed early, the clouds cover- 
 ing it and making the night murky enough, 
 and to increase the gloom, there blew in the 
 night fog from the broad river. It became 
 impossible to see five feet ahead, and even 
 then objects were but dimly outlined. 
 
 But the fight went on, if not the way 
 planned, yet with great fierceness, and that 
 shade which covered the field shuts out the 
 truth of much of the night's doings. 
 
 The Carolina played her part and played 
 150 
 
THE NIGHT ATTACK 
 
 it well. She trained her guns on the spot 
 where the British camp was supposed to be, 
 and without a sign of a mark let slip a storm 
 of iron. It is said that her first broadside, 
 delivered at seven o'clock, laid low a hundred 
 British, but in the face of their returns this 
 could hardly be true. At all events, she 
 opened the ball — and opened it too soon for 
 Coffee, who was stumbling slowly along his 
 marshy way, an hour behind the time for his 
 proper arrival at his destination. 
 
 Little beyond the foregoing facts is sure. 
 At the signal, or soon after, Jackson ordered 
 forward the main army, and forward it went, 
 blindly, but full of faith that to go forward 
 was the proper thing to do, since Andrew 
 Jackson commanded. Then the silence sud- 
 denly turned to shrieking. In short order 
 American and British met and became mixed 
 in the dark, and the battle turned into a 
 rough-and-tumble fight. Both friend and 
 foe speaking the same language made mat- 
 ters worse. Friend shot at friend, or fought 
 side by side with a foe until some chance 
 
 151 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 showed the two were enemies, and then they 
 flew at each other. Prisoners were taken 
 and retaken in a moment. One man would 
 go up to another, thinking him to be one of 
 his own, find himself a prisoner, at once 
 knock down his captor with a blow of his 
 fist, and flee into the darkness, only to have 
 the experience reversed. It was a general 
 mix-up of blood and hatred, the blind fight- 
 ing the blind, and the fury of the contest 
 hastened its end. Tired, torn, and breathless, 
 the two bodies finally separated, and as the 
 British reenforcements began to come in 
 and tip the well-balanced beam, Jackson drew 
 off his forces. The enemy had learned their 
 lesson ; they did not press after him. 
 
 By ten o'clock, save for a few shots deliv- 
 ered at intervals, the fight had ceased. Men 
 felt their ways over the dark, water-sodden 
 plain, hunting for the wounded. These were 
 gathered up, and together with the British 
 prisoners, sent back to the city. The attack, 
 while a failure from one point of view, was 
 a great success from another ; it made the 
 152 
 
THE NIGHT ATTACK 
 
 enemy halt on the plain and left him entirely 
 without the means of protection, and true to 
 Jackson's threat the previous noon, they did 
 little sleeping on American soil. 
 
 The military problem that had suddenly 
 arisen was one easy of answer. The British 
 must make the next move ; they must either 
 attack or retreat the way they had come ; 
 there was no alternative, and Jackson roused 
 himself to meet the issue, as not for a 
 moment did he dream that the English would 
 respect him or his army sufficiently to re- 
 treat without striking an aggressive blow. 
 
 By one o'clock that night the fog had 
 lifted somewhat. The air suddenly turned 
 very cold and the stiffened bodies of the dead 
 were touched with hoar-frost. By this time 
 the Americans had formed entirely across 
 the land, from swamp to river, and thousands 
 of camp-fires winked back the sparkle given 
 by the camp-fires of the now puzzled British. 
 From the innumerable lights that dotted the 
 black plain it appeared that the American 
 army was much greater than in reality, and 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 behind the encompassing fires, Jackson, with 
 his generals, held a council of war. 
 
 It was not an extended meeting. Soon 
 it was resolved to fall back to behind the 
 Rodriguez Canal at break of day, fortify the 
 position in the best way possible, and there 
 await the enemy. To strengthen the defense 
 the Carolina and the Louisiana were to be 
 anchored in the river in siich a way as to 
 rake with their cannons the highroad along 
 the bank. 
 
 The morning found the Americans at 
 their destined point. Hours before word 
 had been sent to New Orleans, and by the 
 time the little army had retreated from the 
 battle-field every species of cart, barrow, 
 shovel, pick, or any of the means for digging 
 or transporting earth that the city could 
 furnish, was at hand waiting for them. Par- 
 ton says that then came "such a digging, 
 shoveling, and heaping up of earth as the 
 delta of the Mississippi, or any other delta, 
 has never seen since Adam delved." 
 
 In truth it was a busy time. Each com- 
 
 154 
 
THE NIGHT ATTACK 
 
 pany was given its line to fortify, and each 
 company did its best to outdo all the rest. 
 Men who had never worked with aught but 
 their heads now worked with their hands and 
 laughed at the blood and blisters that en- 
 sued. Dandies dug instead of dressing ; 
 lovers forgot their ladies, and swung a pick 
 with a lustiness not born of the passion 
 found in parlors. All were to their knees in 
 mud and water, yet never was there an army 
 more cheerful or more willing or more wide 
 awake to future probabilities. 
 
 The embankment rose steadily, though 
 not with magical rapidity, and there was a 
 reason for this slowness. The delta of the 
 Mississippi, in common with all deltas, is 
 made up of the deposited silt and soft, allu- 
 vial soil which the river had brought down 
 and deposited ages before. Were it not for 
 the great levees which confine the " Father 
 of Waters " this almost perfectly level plain 
 would be covered at every rise of the stream, 
 but even thus reclaimed for agriculture, it 
 is only a skin of earth so unstable that it 
 
 ^55 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 quakes under a heavy tread. Three feet 
 below the surface is water and loose mud, 
 and to make an embankment sufficiently 
 high to form a strong defense the land for a 
 long distance about was fairly peeled of its 
 soil. This took time, and it was fortunate 
 for Jackson that the enemy was too fright- 
 ened or too busy to advance. Had they 
 even then pushed on with vigor, without 
 doubt the city would have fallen into their 
 hands. 
 
 But not a movement was made against 
 the ununiformed horde, which with pick and 
 shovel skinned the face of Mother Earth and 
 hauled the rich soil to heighten the embank- 
 ment — the porous wall which was to shut 
 out the invaders. On December 24th — 
 the day before Christmas — the wall was 
 raised in some places to a height of five 
 feet and was a mile long. The erst-while 
 shallow, dry, and grass -grown ditch had 
 been deepened so that two or three feet 
 of water stood in it. The earth had been 
 thrown on the side toward the city and held 
 
 156 
 
THE NIGHT ATTACK 
 
 in place with stakes. One end of this ram- 
 part terminated on the river, the other in a 
 swampy wood which made a flank move- 
 ment by the enemy impossible, then two 
 field-pieces were planted on it in such a man- 
 ner as to command the highroad. Opposite 
 the river end of the entrenchment, and 
 across the stream, another earthwork was 
 built later ; this so that the British could 
 not cross, plant a battery, and enfilade the 
 American breastworks at long range. 
 
 In old histories we are told of how Jack- 
 son fought from behind cotton-bales, but 
 this is only true in part. So scarce was 
 earth, or any material which would stop a 
 cannon-ball, that many cotton-bales were in 
 the beginning set on the line of the breast- 
 works, but before the final and grand attack 
 by Pakenham they were so knocked about 
 by heavy balls as to be a menace instead of 
 a protection ; moreover, they readily caught 
 fire and sent forth a thick and offensive 
 smoke that made the aiming of a gun a mat- 
 ter of guesswork. Jackson at once dis- 
 
 157 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 carded cotton-bales, and the real battle of 
 New Orleans was fought without them. 
 The British were also in a quandary for 
 breastwork material. Being short of earth 
 and having no cotton-bales at hand, they 
 seized upon hundreds of hogsheads of sugar 
 belonging to neighboring plantations and 
 placed them before their lines ; but the 
 American cannon-balls had little respect for 
 them. Sugar has not the dead weight of 
 sand, and the round shot from Jackson's 
 lines tore through the mass as through paper 
 and went their hurtling and death-dealing 
 ways far to the British rear. Sugar-barrels 
 were discarded, and in the end the walls of 
 both sides were built of earth and flesh and 
 blood. 
 
 158 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE ENGLISH ADVANCE 
 
 But the wily American general did not 
 confine himself to defensive operations, al- 
 though he dared not sacrifice his men by 
 exposure in the open field. He seized upon 
 the Mississippi itself, and made it do part of 
 his work. First, he cut the levee above the 
 British, and the road and plains between the 
 two armies were soon three feet under water ; 
 then he sent an engineer below the enemy 
 and cut the levee again. The water poured 
 in and the British found themselves on an 
 island. Had the river been at high water 
 the result of this move must have been to 
 drown out the enemy, but, as it happened, 
 the flood ran lower and lower, and finally 
 the roads came in sight, but the country was 
 now a sea of mud. 
 
 During all of this time the British were 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 being reenforced from their ships eighty 
 miles away. When they became strong 
 enough they were going to attack, mud or no 
 mud, but before they were sufficiently organ- 
 ized to advance they were in a sorry plight. 
 Not only were they confined to a small strip 
 of comparatively dry land, but the devil of 
 gunpowder was at work against them. The 
 two little ships, which had anchored within 
 easy range, now began to pour in a storm 
 of cannon-balls which swept the plain and 
 drove every man to cover. Companies could 
 not form, large movements were out of the 
 question, and even the routine of daily mili- 
 tary life could not be performed in safety. 
 Men crouched in wet ditches with their 
 heads held low, or lay hidden in outhouses 
 and behind slight obstructions. Death hov- 
 ered everywhere. The cold and reeking 
 ground threatened death, and above it the 
 air was full of flying missiles. This state of 
 things was most exasperating to the enemy, 
 as they could neither attack their foe on the 
 river nor defend themselves from the blast 
 160 
 
THE ENGLISH ADVANCE 
 
 that swept over the land. Many of the Brit- 
 ish officers had boasted that they would take 
 their Christmas dinners in New Orleans, Ad- 
 miral Cochrane among the rest, and when 
 this had been reported to Jackson he re- 
 marked with a dry humor that it might be 
 so, but in that event he would preside at the 
 meal. But they did not take their Christ- 
 mas dinner in the city, and it had become a 
 matter of doubt as to their getting dinner 
 at all, as the flying balls from the ships 
 made cooking well-nigh impossible. The 
 invaders, instead of besieging, were in real- 
 ity besieged. This state of things could not 
 last. 
 
 And yet, while the gust of fire and water 
 was being sent by the Americans against 
 their enemies, at Ghent, three thousand miles 
 away, peace between the two belligerent na- 
 tions had already been signed. But neither 
 of the armies knew it. A single stroke of 
 ;the pen had called a halt to brotherly hatred, 
 but about New Orleans brotherly hatred 
 • waxed hotter and hotter. British pride had 
 
 161 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 stiffened to the breaking-point ; American 
 energy had in no wise weakened. 
 
 Christmas was a blue day for the in- 
 vaders, but its somberness was somewhat 
 lightened by the arrival in camp of the su- 
 preme commander of the army, General, or, 
 rather, Major-General, Sir Edward Paken- 
 ham. This officer was worshiped by his 
 men. He had served on the Spanish Penin- 
 sula with prominent success and had decided 
 talents for matters military. Perhaps addi- 
 tional glamor hovered over him from the 
 fact that he was both the friend and brother- 
 in-law of the great Wellington. He had not 
 directed the latter moves of the British army 
 on its advance to New Orleans, and certain 
 it is that had he done so he would not have 
 fallen into the mistake made by General 
 Keane ; he would not have allowed himself 
 to be cooped up on a few acres of unstable 
 land. He set about altering matters at once. 
 He saw that it would be impossible to even 
 form his troops until the offending gunboats 
 on the river were out of the way, and at 
 162 
 
THE ENGLISH ADVANCE 
 
 once decided to blow the Carolina from the 
 face of the earth. 
 
 That little vessel was anchored near the 
 western bank opposite the camp, but owing 
 to the lack of wind and the strength of the 
 current, she was practically a fixture — a mere 
 floating battery. She could not escape save 
 by dropping down the stream, and this would 
 have put an end to her usefulness as effectu- 
 ally as though sunk. Two miles above her 
 lay the much more formidable Louisiana, 
 but, strange to relate, Pakenham devoted his 
 first and greatest energy against the former 
 vessel, which had but one gun of any power, 
 instead of sinking the Louisiana and then 
 knocking the Carolina to pieces at his leisure. 
 
 To obtain his desired end he sent back to 
 the ships for heavy guns — heavy guns which 
 had to be rafted eighty miles. It took four 
 days to get them, and then they were mount- 
 ed on the levee on the night of the 26th — 
 twelve of them : nine field-pieces, two how- 
 itzers, and a mortar, together with a furnace 
 for heating balls. 
 
 163 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 On the morning of the 2 7th the new bat- 
 tery opened its attack with a white-hot shot 
 which lodged in the timbers of the Carolina 
 and set her afire. The little vessel replied 
 with its single heavy gun, but the weight of 
 heated metal thrown at her was too much for 
 her, and after half an hour of hard knocks, 
 when his schooner was doomed, one man 
 killed and six wounded, Captain Henly, her 
 commander, deserted her and with his crew 
 escaped to shore. Shortly after his landing 
 the vessel blew up with a terrible report that 
 shook the jelly-like earth for miles around 
 and set the non-combatants in New Orleans 
 agape with fear. 
 
 And yet, after the incredible labor of 
 dragging twelve heavy guns, a furnace, and 
 tons of ammunition for a distance of eighty-odd 
 miles, the British had destroyed one twelve- 
 pound cannon and several smaller ones, 
 killed one man, and wrecked a vessel that 
 could not have stood a moderate gale at sea. 
 
 In the meanwhile the Louisiana had es- 
 caped. Having more at stake and no wind 
 164 
 
THE ENGLISH ADVANCE 
 
 to help her, she got out her boats and men 
 and was towed, against the current, to a 
 point out of range. The nine guns she car- 
 ried might have been silenced forever had 
 Pakenham possessed the wit to have made her 
 his first mark ; later he undoubtedly wished 
 he had — for she is yet to do yeoman's service. 
 
 The same day was a busy one for the 
 Americans, for the little battle did not in- 
 terrupt their duties. The ditch was being 
 widened and deepened, the earth embank- 
 ment heightened, but the works were far 
 from finished. Two large cannon were add- 
 ed to the two already in position, and the 
 next morning another showed its black 
 mouth pointing outward ; later, the escaped 
 crew from the Carolina, now expert with 
 heavy artillery, came to work them. 
 
 The morning of the 28th dawned bright 
 and bracing, yet soft and beautiful. It was 
 like a perfect September day in the North. 
 Birds sang and the sun shone from a cool, 
 though cloudless sky. 
 
 Very early in the day it became apparent 
 '- 165 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 to Jackson that at last something was about 
 to happen. From the roof of his head- 
 quarters — a plantation house a little behind 
 the lines — he could view the distant enemy 
 by means of an old telescope he had bor- 
 rowed. Much had he wondered at the long 
 delay of his opponent. That the Americans 
 had been allowed five days to strengthen 
 themselves argued that Pakenham had 
 something up his sleeve the nature of which 
 was to be held in reserve. Jackson feared a 
 crushing surprise of some sort, and it was 
 not without anxiety that he applied the an- 
 cient tube to his eye and marked the British 
 forming in columns on the now safe plain. 
 If it was to be an assault he knew how to 
 act and would be ready ; if a subterfuge to 
 veil some sharp dodge of a military genius, 
 he would do his best to meet the emergency. 
 He ordered the Louisiana to be ready to 
 veer to the end of her long cable and sweep 
 the plain in front of the American line as 
 soon as the enemy appeared ; then every 
 man was sent to his post of duty. 
 166 
 
^^ 
 
 From the roof of his headquarters he could view the 
 distant enemy. 
 
THE ENGLISH ADVANCE 
 
 The works of the Americans were only 
 known in part to Pakenham. He was 
 aware of the breastwork, but was unaware of 
 the ditch and the fact that the Louisiana — a 
 powerful battery — was in position at the end 
 of the American line. The conformation of 
 the defenses toward the cypress swamp was 
 more open to his observation, but he knew 
 nothing of the force behind it ; the right 
 wing (or river end) was hidden from view 
 by a number of buildings belonging to the 
 Chalmette plantation, and here was the 
 strength of the work. The Louisiana was 
 also hidden from the enemy until he came 
 fairly within range of her guns. Thinking 
 the before-mentioned buildings might shield 
 the British during their attack, Jackson had 
 them filled with combustibles and arranged 
 to fire them at the proper moment by red- 
 hot balls. So far they had been an admira- 
 ble screen for him. 
 
 Pakenham was in high spirits that bright 
 and beautiful morning, and his confidence 
 was shared by his army. He had determined 
 167 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 to take a close look at his quiet enemy, and 
 hoped to find matters in such a shape as to 
 permit him to tear a hole in the low defense 
 and send his army hurrying along to New- 
 Orleans. However, he was wise enough not 
 to call this movement a direct attack ; it was 
 to be a mere reconnaissance, the reconnoiter- 
 ing party to consist of the comfortable force 
 of twelve thousand men. His curiosity de- 
 manded satisfaction — and received it. 
 
 With the music of bands, rattling of 
 drums, and blare of bugles, the showy col- 
 umns advanced along the high road, four 
 miles or more, without a sign of opposition, 
 their flags flying in the merry breeze, the sun 
 glinting with blinding radiance along the 
 waving rise and fall of rows upon rows of 
 polished steel barrels and bayonets. It might 
 have been a dress parade from the precision 
 with which the army marched, from the rich 
 scarlet of the uniforms, the gold and plumes 
 of the officers. All was confidence and 
 gaiety until a turn in the road showed tlie 
 black cannon on the entrenchment, the good 
 168 
 
THE ENGLISH ADVANCE 
 
 ship Louisiana slowly veering to the extreme 
 length of her immense cable, and the men, 
 matches in hand, awaiting the signal. When 
 the signal came Pakenham had had his look 
 at the Americans, the nearest look he ever 
 obtained. 
 
 Suddenly the quiet was broken by a 
 crash, " which," said one present, " sounded 
 as though the universe had collapsed." Four- 
 teen cannon and untold hundreds of rifles 
 opened upon the oncoming British. Like 
 magic the Chalmette buildings burst into 
 flames, and the heat and smoke from these 
 soon became thorns in the flesh of the 
 enemy. The artillery service was wonder- 
 fully accurate, even the suffering English 
 acknowledging their astonishment at the 
 brilliant marksmanship of the American 
 gunners. Round shot, so fired that they 
 skipped along the surface of the ground, 
 tore through the solid mass of the enemy, 
 tossing men, the parts of men, and the dead 
 and wounded together into the air. Rifle- 
 men, almost unseen, fired, and fell back for 
 169 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 others to take their places, and the black 
 mud-bank was edged with a fringe of flame 
 — wicked spurts that carried death with each 
 one, for the Americans were wasting no lead 
 that day. 
 
 It was too much for flesh and blood to 
 bear. The infantry was ordered from the 
 road and formed in the fields somewhat out 
 of range of the great cannon, and the Brit- 
 ish artillery was brought up to oppose the 
 withering fire of the Americans. But it was 
 of no use. Men were shot down at the guns 
 so fast that at last there was none who would 
 serve them, and they lay dismounted and 
 deserted until evening, when a band of 
 marines ran in, lifted them on to their broad 
 shoulders, and so saved them from capture by 
 the patriots. 
 
 But the infantry, now out of artillery 
 fire, went bravely forward to carry the breast- 
 work, but they were halted by the ditch, 
 which had not been taken into account. It 
 was death to proceed, death to stand still, 
 and death to go backward. Here panic 
 170 
 
THE ENGLISH ADVANCE 
 
 seized vast bodies of men. Many ran into 
 the canal, the depth of which was unknown, 
 and knelt among the reeds and grasses, at- 
 tempting to hide from the terrible marks- 
 men ; many more, unhurt, dropped on the 
 open field and lay there, saving their lives 
 by taking on the stillness of death, while 
 others crawled behind clumps of bushes or 
 lay prone in shallow and slimy ditches. All 
 thoughts of attacking were blown to the 
 winds ; those who had not been shot, or had 
 hidden, began a precipitate retreat, and the 
 immediate business of the British command- 
 er was to get his men out of the predica- 
 ment in which he had placed them. The 
 troops did not draw off in well-ordered re- 
 treat, but covered themselves as best they 
 could until dark, when, regiment by regi- 
 ment, sometimes company by company, and 
 much more frequently, man by man, they 
 stole off. There was no pursuit. 
 
 This is the way Parton sums it up : 
 "What a day for the heroes of the Penin- 
 sula and the stately Ninety-third Highlanders 
 171 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 — lying low in wet ditches, some of them for 
 seven hours, under that relentless cannonade, 
 and then slinking away behind fences, huts, 
 and burning houses, or even crawling along 
 on the bottom of ditches, happy to get be- 
 yond the reach of those bounding balls, that 
 * knocked down the soldiers,* says Captain 
 Cook, * and tossed them into the air like old 
 bags ! ' 
 
 **And what a day for General Jackson 
 and his four thousand, who saw the magnifi- 
 cent advance of the morning, not without 
 misgivings, and then beheld the most splen- 
 did and imposing army they had ever seen 
 sink, as it were, into the earth and vanish 
 from their sight ! 
 
 ** This reconnaissance cost General Pak- 
 enham a loss of fifty killed and wounded. 
 The casualties on the American side were 
 nine killed and eight wounded." 
 
 172 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE ARTILLERY DUEL 
 
 What was to be done after this fiasco ? 
 Pakenham kept his hand very close — so 
 close that Jackson was puzzled, but he went 
 on strengthening his lines. A mile or so 
 behind the existing defense he started an- 
 other, and still to the rear of that marked 
 out a third. If the city was to fall it 
 would cost the British all it was worth to 
 them. 
 
 For three days nothing happened. The 
 British lay two miles below, in plain sight 
 of the Americans, but they made no move 
 otherwise than to appear very busy among 
 themselves. Were they preparing to de- 
 part ? Not yet. From the strength of the 
 American works Pakenham had come to 
 the conclusion that they must be taken by 
 regular approaches — approaches such as are 
 
 173 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 used in siege operations. By planting bat- 
 teries nearer and nearer and beating down 
 the breastworks with heavy shot, matters 
 would be in shape for a successful assault. 
 The business on hand, then, was to get a 
 large number of heavy guns from the fleet. 
 
 On the last day of December, 1814, 
 the British had rafted and dragged twenty 
 long eigh teen-pounders and ten twenty-four- 
 pounders into camp. That night nearly 
 half the army marched out to within one 
 thousand feet of the American position, 
 and there, silently and under cover of the 
 darkness, they performed the prodigious feat 
 of constructing six batteries of five heavy 
 guns each, and the Americans had no sus- 
 picion of what was in progress. Once or 
 twice a dull pounding was heard by the out- 
 post and reported, but it was not dreamed 
 that guns of large caliber were being 
 mounted so near. As arranged, the British 
 artillery outweighed and outnumbered the 
 opposing metal by three to one. 
 
 When the batteries had been constructed 
 
THE ARTILLERY DUEL 
 
 the army laid down among the rushes, some 
 distance in the rear, there to await the morn- 
 ing, the cannonade, the breach, and the 
 order for a rush. Victory was a foregone 
 conclusion — and might have been a true one 
 save for those barrels of sugar with which 
 the British had built their battery walls. 
 Earth was scarce, and the making of earth 
 embankments took time — and time was 
 precious ; the batteries had to be finished 
 by daybreak, for the spiteful and well-served 
 American guns would make work on walls 
 impossible after that. 
 
 But that something was in the wind 
 Jackson already knew. In the night a de- 
 serter from the British had brought in infor- 
 mation that Pakenham was placing two 
 heavy howitzers on the levee for the pur- 
 pose of destroying the Louisiana should she 
 again swing into position for the purpose of 
 sweeping the plain. Therefore the Louisi- 
 ana remained at her safe anchorage above 
 the lines, but Commodore Patterson was 
 wise enough to send his crew to the defenses 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 across the river, and there they were on hand 
 to work its guns against the enemy. 
 
 The morning of January i, 1815, broke 
 still and foggy ; so thick was the air that 
 objects could be distinguished but a few 
 rods distant. It was holiday time, and Jack- 
 son, knowing nothing of the menace so near 
 his line and feeling fairly sure of being unin- 
 terrupted, somewhat slackened the discipline 
 of his army, and in deference to the day de- 
 cided to hold a grand review of his forces 
 on the ground lying between his headquar- 
 ters and the entrenchments. 
 
 The men had spruced up and formed. 
 It was about ten o'clock, and the unsuspect- 
 ing army was about being put through its 
 paces before its general, when, like a trans- 
 formation scene in a theater, the blanket of 
 fog suddenly lifted. 
 
 The whole scene was now in full view 
 of the waiting enemy, who were, as stated, 
 about one thousand feet away. They saw the 
 dressed ranks of the Americans ; they heard 
 the blare of the bands and noted the fact 
 
 176 
 
THE ARTILLERY DUEL 
 
 that the ramparts were well-nigh deserted. 
 Why did they not charge? With a rush 
 they might have run over the walls and 
 swept the platoons and battalions into wild 
 confusion — only — there was the ditch, the 
 depth of which was unknown, and the bridge 
 ladders were still in the rear. 
 
 No, the British did not charge as they 
 might have done with success at that mo- 
 ment, but they did the next best thing. 
 With their thirty guns they opened fire full 
 upon the orderly and surprised mass of men, 
 who had no more looked for this than for 
 the opening of the earth. In an instant all 
 was rampant confusion. Companies, bat- 
 talions, regiments, officers, and men fell into 
 the direst disorder, and, without exception, 
 ran. But they did not run toward New 
 Orleans ; they ran to the entrenchments, 
 where alone lay safety, and where also lay 
 their posts of duty. 
 
 But it was a disorderly mob. The sud- 
 denness and fierceness of the unexpected 
 cannonade was temporarily demoralizing, and 
 177 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 it was some time — say ten minutes — before 
 the American gunners had recovered proper 
 order and were ready to return the fire, and 
 then the smoke and fog were too thick to 
 permit of a sure aim. The British batteries 
 were narrow-fronted and lay low on the great 
 wet plain ; they were not easily seen, but 
 when the wind finally tossed aside the murky 
 curtain and exposed them, there came such 
 a blast of fire and shock from the American 
 line, that, coupled with the thirty guns al- 
 ready bellowing, it shook the unfirm land like 
 a mighty earthquake. 
 
 Across the river Patterson's men engaged 
 the howitzers erected on the levee, and for 
 an hour and a half pandemonium was let 
 loose. That the British did much damage 
 is without question, but the damage done 
 was not to the embankment they had hoped 
 to level, for their best-aimed shot only sunk 
 deep into the spongy mass and did no harm. 
 The cotton-bales on which Jackson had de- 
 pended, especially those near the river end of 
 the line, were treated unceremoniously, being 
 
 178 
 
THE ARTILLERY DUEL 
 
 knocked about by round shot and frequently 
 set on fire by Congreve rockets. Several 
 casualties resulted in the effort to quench 
 the flames and end the suffocating smoke, 
 but for all this there was no breach for the 
 waiting forces to storm, and the damage was 
 rapidly repaired. Some of the balls flew 
 over the mark and did execution among 
 those serving the guns, and only ended their 
 mad career far in the rear, where, too, they 
 killed several men. One or two guns were 
 injured by the bombardment and several 
 ammunition cases were exploded, blowing 
 up with loud reports, at which the British 
 cheered. 
 
 The house which was Jackson's head- 
 quarters was so played upon and riddled as 
 to be useless. The general's staff had been 
 thunderstruck as the first shots crashed 
 through the walls, but though one or two 
 officers were knocked down and covered 
 with ddbris, no one was seriously hurt. 
 
 For all the thunder and crashing and 
 hurly-burly, at no time during this artillery 
 179 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 duel was the line weakened. It was nearly 
 noon before it became apparent to the en- 
 trenched patriots that the British fire was 
 slackening. Was it in preparation for as- 
 sault? The defenders waited, every nerve 
 stretched tightly. Presently the thunder of 
 the improvised batteries ceased altogether, 
 and then the Americans held their fire and 
 prepared for the shock, each moment ex- 
 pecting to see the British columns advan- 
 cing with fixed bayonets. 
 
 Slowly the smoke lifted, but not so 
 slowly but that it went quickly enough for 
 the brave commander and his army to see 
 the enemy in full retreat. As the air cleared 
 it was observed that the batteries erected so 
 suddenly and hopefully had been knocked to 
 ruins ; the menaces of a few hours before 
 were now but heaps of earth, broken staves, 
 and useless metal. The barrels of sugar had 
 been built into a house of cards. The Amer- 
 ican shot had torn through them and gone 
 onward, where they had killed many in the 
 waiting army, which, by the way, "had not 
 180 
 
THE ARTILLERY DUEL 
 
 lingered for the end, but had retreated out 
 of harm's path. Great guns broken and dis- 
 mounted, carriages in splinters, and indescri- 
 bable ruin met the gaze of the surprised 
 Americans, and there, also, in the distance, 
 were the gunners — the British marines — 
 running away as fast as their legs could 
 carry them. Again the enemy had been 
 repulsed. 
 
 What a shout arose ! It was an outburst 
 of mental exaltation, and it served to quicken 
 the pace of the frightened runners. Rough 
 men shook hands with or embraced each 
 other while tears born of excitement rolled 
 down their cheeks. They wanted to leap 
 over the breastworks and pursue, but cooler 
 heads prevailed, and presently the victorious 
 army fell into their normal order and the 
 British returned to their camp. 
 
 As a result of such a storm of metal it is 
 a wonder that the losses on both sides were 
 not greater. The enemy had thirty killed 
 and about as many wounded ; the Americans, 
 eleven killed and twenty-three wounded, and 
 '^ 181 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 of these latter it is said that the majority 
 were not on the firing line, but doing duty 
 or acting as reserves far in the rear. 
 
 182 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 PREPARATIONS 
 
 And was this second advance of the in- 
 vading army to be the last ? Had Paken- 
 ham become discouraged? Would he re- 
 treat? Many well-balanced minds thought 
 so, Jackson among the rest, but the general 
 so lacked confidence in his own expressed 
 opinion that he kept every available man at 
 work repairing the damage done and strength- 
 ening the defenses. Among other improve- 
 ments, he got rid of the well-nigh useless 
 cotton bales and used earth in their stead. 
 
 Monday passed without alarm ; so did 
 Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday, and 
 in the meantime the American army had 
 been reenforced by the 2,200 Kentuckians 
 referred to before. A poor, bedraggled body 
 of men they were as they marched into New 
 Orleans, ragged, hungry, and almost entirely 
 
 183 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 unarmed. The city was nearly exhausted of 
 all kinds of arms and clothing, but, like the 
 young giantess she was and is, she lifted her- 
 self to the occasion and soon had the shiver- 
 ing and forlorn soldiers covered by clothing 
 made from blankets ; they were fed, too, but 
 as a body they were not armed. Some few 
 found old muskets, but most of them were 
 furnished with arms borrowed from the re- 
 serves and the sailors, and thus they went to 
 the front. 
 
 The enemy was also being strengthened, 
 for during those days of no active hostilities 
 1,700 regulars, just arrived from England, 
 were added to the army, thus bringing the 
 British fighting force up to more than seven 
 thousand well-equipped men. 
 
 On Friday night Jackson received his 
 first inkling of what was going forward in 
 the silent camp two miles below, and the 
 news terminated his period of harrowing un- 
 certainty, and made it sure that Pakenham 
 intended to try his teeth once more, and on 
 a grander scale than before. The British 
 184 
 
PREPARATIONS 
 
 general had determined to reduce the Amer- 
 ican defenses across the river, and at the same 
 time move all his men not thus occupied 
 against the main line. It was to be a great 
 assault en masse — a storming party which was 
 to comprehend his entire army. 
 
 But to convey men across the river he 
 must have boats, and to get his boats on to 
 the swift bosom of the Mississippi he must 
 cut a canal across the solid ground and con- 
 nect the waters of the lagoon, up which the 
 army had originally advanced, with the river 
 itself. It was a prodigious piece of labor 
 performed under the greatest disadvantage, 
 but by night and day alternate shifts of men 
 dug, and dug in water and out. At last the 
 ditch was completed, but it became almost 
 useless, as will be seen. 
 
 This plan had been laid almost immedi- 
 ately after the second repulse, and it was this 
 canal on which the British were engaged 
 during the days of their seeming inaction. 
 If the storming party which were to move 
 through it should capture the lesser work on 
 
 185 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 the west bank and turn its guns on Jackson's 
 flank, the American general would be obliged 
 to fall back to his inner defenses, and even 
 New Orleans would be in danger. 
 
 But the American general was quite as 
 well aware of this as was the British general, 
 though he was unable to effectually guard 
 against the western attack, but here it was 
 that the Mississippi took a hand in the mat- 
 ter, and, just as the canal was completed, the 
 trap ready to be sprung, and a British force 
 of 1,400 men was about to move, the water 
 fell so low that the plan balked. The boats 
 would not float. A number were pushed 
 over the mud and into the river, but in the 
 end less than five hundred men, under the 
 daring Colonel Thornton, succeeded in reach- 
 ing the western bank. 
 
 It is well there were no more. Colonel 
 Morgan, who commanded the threatened 
 fortification, had but 800 men, and they mi- 
 litia, poorly armed and entirely unused to 
 war. It is stated by critics that Jackson 
 should have sent a greater and better body of 
 186 
 
PREPARATIONS 
 
 soldiers to this very important point, but he 
 knew he must bear the brunt of the attack 
 on the eastern side of the river, and had but 
 2,500 men to oppose something over twice 
 that number. 
 
 The failure of the boats was one large 
 point in favor of the Americans, but there 
 was another incident which had even a 
 greater bearing on the result of the day. 
 
 As from every army there are deserters, 
 so one left the Americans, worked his way 
 through the outposts and pickets, and ap- 
 peared before Pakenham. That general 
 questioned the man very closely, and was 
 told that the weakest part of the American 
 line was at the edge of the cypress swamp, 
 where were posted the forces of Generals 
 Coffee and Carroll. This was true. The 
 embankment was here the weakest in con- 
 struction, but then there lay the coolest and 
 deadliest shots in the whole army. The de- 
 serter forgot to tell this, nor did he tell (be- 
 cause he did not know) that after he ran 
 away General Adair chanced to bring to that 
 
 187 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 very point one thousand fire-eating Ken- 
 tuckians to act as a reserve. This ignorance 
 and omission proved fatal to Pakenham, for 
 he at once determined to concentrate his 
 greatest strength on what he considered 
 Jackson's vulnerable point. 
 
 It was Commodore Patterson who dis- 
 covered the imminence of the attack. He 
 had spent the night on the western bank of 
 the Mississippi, opposite the newly made 
 canal, and though he could not see, he heard 
 enough to know that the British were about 
 to cross the stream. He hurriedly sent word 
 to Jackson and prayed for more troops for 
 his own side of the river, but Jackson, waked 
 from his midnight doze by the messenger 
 refused the request as one impossible to 
 comply with, and then roused his aides, who, 
 wrapped in their cloaks, were sleeping on 
 the floor of his room. 
 
 " Gentlemen, we have slept enough ! 
 Rise ; I must go and see Coffee ! " 
 
 It was about three o'clock on the morn- 
 ing of January 8, 1815. By four o'clock 
 188 
 
PREPARATIONS 
 
 every man was at his post of duty and 
 every foot of the embankment was lined 
 with heads, the eyes of which peered over the 
 great field in a vain endeavor to penetrate the 
 darkness and mists of the early morning. 
 There was not a soul there but felt that 
 something great was soon to happen. 
 
 189 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 Let us leave them v/atching and turn our 
 attention to what was going on within the 
 British lines. 
 
 While the Americans were forming to 
 await the expected attack, General Paken- 
 ham was on the bank of the river watching 
 the tardy getting away of Colonel Thornton's 
 men. After looking at them for some time 
 he expressed his impatience at his hard luck, 
 and, remarking that he could not wait longer 
 for Thornton's move, rode away. It was 
 now on the verge of dawn, and as he wished 
 to have the heads of his columns well to the 
 front by daylight, he determined to act at 
 once. 
 
 As he rode toward the army he was met 
 with information that the leading regiment, 
 the Forty-fourth, under Colonel MuUins, 
 190 
 
THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 had gone ahead without taking the bridge 
 ladders which were to be rushed over the 
 ditch and across which the following army 
 was to pass. This was a fatal omission on 
 the part of Colonel Mullins, and afterward 
 cost him his commission, and by the time 
 the ladders and fascines had been obtained 
 the men who carried them and who should 
 have been far in front were now well to the 
 rear, as in the meantime the whole army had 
 been ordered forward — all but the reserves 
 under General Lambert. 
 
 The first movement made, there was no 
 stopping it ; an army is too unwieldy and 
 has too great an inertia to be handled with 
 ease and in a moment. Forward went the 
 columns with the determined and stolid 
 tread that characterizes the British regulars 
 to this day ; grim old veterans whose faces 
 reflected their doubts of the wisdom of the 
 attack, and gay young blades laughing and 
 joking from nervousness and a desire to 
 hide it. .Many higher than the obedient 
 private felt that a mistake was being made 
 191 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 and openly expressed themselves against the 
 judgment displayed in ordering an open as- 
 sault. Colonel Dale handed his watch and a 
 letter to his regimental physician and asked 
 that they might be forwarded to his wife, 
 saying he would die that day. Colonel Mul- 
 lins openly cursed his superior for having 
 doomed his regiment to certain slaughter. 
 He said : " Their dead bodies are to be used 
 as a bridge for the rest of the army to march 
 over." Others were less outspoken, but 
 equally depressed. 
 
 If Pakenham himself became alive to 
 the prevailing fear and was penetrated by 
 doubts of his own wisdom, it was then too 
 late to alter matters. The single rocket 
 that whizzed aloft through the raw morning 
 air and which was the signal (as well as a 
 warning to the Americans) for the left to as- 
 sault, settled the affair forever. The match 
 which fired that useless rocket fired the train 
 that led to one of the greatest disasters ever 
 met with by a British force. 
 
 By six o'clock both right and left col- 
 192 
 
THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 umns were well on their way. The dull 
 morning concealed from the American out- 
 posts the vast concourse of men until they 
 were close upon them, then the lonely 
 watchers fled in haste and carried to Jackson 
 the word that the British were coming. 
 
 Every man behind the defenses now 
 eagerly awaited the moment when the red 
 columns should heave in sight — and none so 
 eagerly as the gunners, who were to engage 
 long before the dull crimson line came with- 
 in range of the riflemen. Every piece was 
 loaded and primed, every artilleryman stood 
 at pose and poise, the match-man flare in 
 hand. The greater cannon contained solid 
 shot, the smaller guns were loaded to the 
 muzzle with musket-balls and pieces of scrap- 
 iron. 
 
 Parton says : " Lieutenant Spotts, of bat- 
 tery Number Six, was the first man in the 
 American lines who descried through the fog 
 the dim red line of General Gibbs*s ad- 
 vancing column, far down the plain close to 
 the forest. The thunder of his great gun 
 
 193 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 broke the stillness. Then there was silence 
 again, for the shifting fog, or the altered 
 position of the enemy, concealed him from 
 view once more. The fog lifted again, and 
 soon revealed both divisions, which, with 
 their detached companies, seemed to cover 
 two-thirds of the plain, and gave the Ameri- 
 cans a repetition of the military spectacle 
 which they had witnessed on the 28th of 
 December." 
 
 Let us remain a moment with the attack 
 on the left — the so-called weak point. Facing 
 three batteries which were now playing on 
 them. General Gibbs and his men rushed on, 
 always steady and always closing the terrible 
 gaps that opened in the wake of the round 
 shot which tore through the mass. What 
 might not such gallant men have accom- 
 plished had they but the missing ladders! As 
 the ditch appeared before them there was a 
 halt and the line became confused. Where 
 are the fascines? Where are the ladders? 
 Where is the Forty-fourth ? Somewhere 
 behind and useless. General Pakenham, 
 194 
 
THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 riding forward, found members of that regi- 
 ment rushing around without purpose or 
 direction. He was horrified at the sight. 
 ** For shame!" he cried. ** This is the road 
 you ought to go ! " And he pointed toward 
 the front. 
 
 In the meantime, Gibbs's halted column, 
 unable to go forward and looking in vain for 
 the delinquent ladder bearers, were being 
 mowed down like grain, for now every rifle 
 on the American left was blazing full upon 
 them. When more than half their num- 
 ber had fallen they broke and fled, to the 
 utter chagrin of their commander, who was 
 forced to report to the general that his men 
 would no longer obey him. Pakenham was 
 furious. Placing his plumed hat on the 
 point of his sword, he raised it high above 
 his head and rode to the front of the dis- 
 ordered column. Voices could not be heard 
 in the uproar, but his action was understood. 
 Some of the men turned, and into the hail of 
 lead and iron he spurred his horse. At once 
 his right arm was struck and shattered and 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 his horse fell dead beneath him. Springing 
 to his feet, he mounted the horse of one of 
 his aides, and, apparently unconscious of his 
 injury, followed his retreating column, com- 
 manding and imploring them to halt. Fired 
 by the bravery of their commander, a few 
 turned again, rushed through the ditch and 
 scrambled up the steep and slippery earth- 
 work, only to fall riddled by the storm of 
 bullets that met them. 
 
 Once out of range of the terrible tempest, 
 the disordered division reformed. Now was 
 to come a greater attempt, and they divested 
 themselves of their heavy knapsacks and all 
 superfluous weight. They were reenforced, 
 too, by the famous Highlanders, and the 
 blare of the bagpipes droned above the 
 thunder of the guns. Again they advanced 
 to the front. This time they were to go on 
 through the ditch, ladders or no ladders, and 
 with the wounded but undaunted Paken- 
 ham leading and in plain sight, they rushed 
 forward, with a result the details of which are 
 sickening. 
 
 196 
 
THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 Men fell by the score ; one discharge of 
 the bullet-burdened cannon cut down two 
 hundred ; the plain was reeking with blood. 
 So rapid was the American fire that the top 
 of the breastwork looked like a thin sheet of 
 flame through which at frequent intervals 
 there leaped the longer and fiercer spurts 
 of the artillery. It was human butchery, 
 and nothing made of flesh and blood could 
 endure such a fusilade. The column faltered 
 under the whirlwind of death, then halted, 
 then fell into wild confusion. Pakenham 
 at last realized the nature of his undertaking 
 and, turning to an officer, he shouted, " Call 
 up the reserves ! " At that moment the con- 
 tents of a thirty -two -pounder filled with, 
 grape-shot struck the group of which he was 
 the center. Again his horse fell dead beneath 
 him and a ball tore open his thigh. Ready 
 hands lifted, him, but ere he could be borne 
 to a place of safety he was struck in the 
 body and at once lapsed into unconscious- 
 ness. He never spoke again, but beneath a 
 tree some distance in the rear breathed his 
 '' 197 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 last in a few moments, fortunately for his 
 peace of mind, ignorant of the result of the 
 attack. 
 
 Immediately after the fall of Pakenham 
 Gibbs fell and died in agony the following 
 day; General Keane was wounded and borne 
 away; Colonel Dale, of the Highlanders, was 
 killed outright, thus making good his proph- 
 ecy, and but a little later panic seized the 
 entire right of the British army; the troops 
 fell into the wildest disorder and fled in terror 
 from the field, a crazed rabble. 
 
 But not all. Even running they dropped 
 under the relentless fire, some never to rise 
 again, but hundreds, unhurt, fell to the earth 
 in sheer fright, and there lay for hours. 
 Every depression, every slimy ditch, shallow 
 or not, was packed with demoralized sol- 
 diers, sometimes two or three .deep, each 
 gone temporarily mad from dread of sudden 
 death. 
 
 There were but few exceptions to this 
 state of affairs on the right, and it is here 
 pleasant to note the devotion of a few noble 
 198 
 
THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 souls. Let us again refer to Parton for a 
 picture. 
 
 ** Major Wilkinson, followed by Lieuten- 
 ant Lavack and twenty men, pressed on to 
 the ditch, floundered across it, climbed the 
 breastwork, and raised his head and shoulders 
 above the summit, upon which he fell riddled 
 with balls. The Tennesseeans and Kentuck- 
 ians defending that part of the lines, struck 
 with admiration by such heroic conduct, 
 lifted his still breathing body and conveyed 
 it tenderly behind the works. 
 
 **'Bear up, my dear fellow,' said Major 
 Simley of the Kentucky reserves ; * you are 
 too brave a man to die ! ' 
 
 "*I thank you from my heart,' whispered 
 the dying man. * It's 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 English- 
 man.' " 
 
 Strange as it may appear, Lavack was 
 not struck, but reached the top of the 
 breastwork and leaped down among the 
 
 199 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 Americans. Thinking he had been followed 
 by his men, he demanded the officer in charge 
 at that point to surrender, but was very 
 politely informed that as he was alone he 
 might consider himself a prisoner. There- 
 upon he turned around, and to his utter con- 
 sternation discovered that his brave followers 
 had been shot down, his entire regiment had 
 disappeared as if by magic, and those of it 
 who were not dead or disabled were burrow- 
 ing into the ground in an endeavor to get 
 beyond the reach of American bullets. His 
 own freedom from a wound of any kind was 
 nothing short of miraculous. 
 
 Behind that part of the breastworks which 
 had been so fiercely defended the great- 
 est excitement prevailed. The reserves, no 
 longer reserved, had rushed into the fight 
 with the greatest of glee. Much seeming 
 confusion existed, for with men struggling 
 to reach the parapet, firing into the smoke 
 ahead, falling back to load, running with am- 
 munition, and cheering and shouting from 
 excitement, disorganization appeared to pre- 
 200 
 
THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 vail, but not for a moment were the defend- 
 ers demoralized ; never did they fail to obey 
 orders. 
 
 And yet through all the volcano of hatred 
 and strife, thunder, smoke, and blood, the 
 center of the line was inactive. Both right 
 and left wings of the army were hotly en- 
 gaged, but here not a shot was fired by a 
 small arm ; instead, the band stationed near 
 headquarters played national airs throughout 
 the whole battle, which lasted no^ more than 
 twenty-five minutes, and here Jackson and 
 the surrounding and impatient force stood 
 and acted as mere spectators. It was a wide 
 stage on which the tragedy was enacted, and 
 when the curtain of smoke was tossed aloft, 
 the movements of all the actors were in plain 
 sight. What must have been the old man's 
 sensations when he saw the British right wing 
 hurled back and destroyed, the left faring but 
 little better, for here, again, the defenders of 
 New Orleans turned their little mound of 
 earth into a stream of bullet-laden fire. The 
 British fell by hundreds until, unable to en- 
 
 201 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 dure the blast, whole regiments turned and 
 ran or groveled in the earth as did their fel- 
 lows at the opposite end of the line. 
 
 As the dense smoke settled down and 
 closed the view of the plain, the firing still 
 went on as fiercely as ever. Not knowing 
 that the British had retreated, but fancying 
 them forming for renewed assault, for two 
 hours the Americans loaded their rifles and 
 cannon and sent their shot singing over 
 a field deserted by all save the dead, the 
 wounded, and the cowering soldier. 
 
 Among those who had set forth but a 
 short time before, all discipline was at an end 
 until the panic-stricken men had returned to 
 camp. The loss had been frightful. Gen- 
 eral Lambert, now suddenly at the head of 
 the army, was appalled at the disaster. He 
 was almost destitute of field-officers. There 
 had been killed or wounded three major- 
 generals, eight colonels and lieutenant - 
 colonels, six majors, eighteen captains, and 
 fifty-four lieutenants. Seven hundred pri- 
 vates were killed outright^ fourteen hundred 
 
 202 
 
THE GRAND ASSAULT 
 
 wounded, and five hundred were taken pris- 
 oners during and after the action. Jackson's 
 loss was exactly eight men killed and thirteen 
 wounded. Of his dead, but two had fallen 
 behind the real line of defense; of the others, 
 two had been on outpost duty when shot, 
 and four were killed while fighting skirmish- 
 ers in the swamp. What a contrast ! It 
 does not take a military mind to see that 
 some one had blundered. 
 
 At last the firing gradually ceased and the 
 gunners rested to let their pieces cool and 
 the smoke blow away. What a scene finally 
 met the view of the anxious and awe-stricken 
 watchers from the parapet ! Prostrate men 
 covered the field, writhing in agony, and no 
 band could have drowned the great minor 
 chord of the chorus of shrieks that rose from 
 the plain. Save for a dim, red line far in the 
 distance, the last of the retreating British, 
 the wide stretch of flat land had been given 
 up to the dead, the wounded, and the coward. 
 Of the latter, Jackson said : 
 
 " I never had so grand and awful an idea 
 203 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 of the resurrection as on that day. After the 
 smoke of the battle had cleared off some- 
 what, I saw in the distance more than five 
 hundred Britons emerging from the heaps of 
 their dead comrades all over the plain, rising 
 up, and still more distinctly visible as the 
 field became clearer, coming forward and sur- 
 rendering as prisoners of war to our soldiers. 
 They had fallen at our first fire upon them 
 without having received as much as a scratch, 
 and lay prostrate as if dead until the close of 
 the action." 
 
 204 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 But with all this, the Americans were to 
 witness disaster to themselves. For on the 
 other side of the river Colonel Thornton 
 with his four hundred men had carried the 
 works, beaten back its eight hundred defend- 
 ers, and were driving them up the west bank 
 and toward the city. The fair prospects of 
 the American army were suddenly clouded. 
 Jackson saw that if Patterson had left a sin- 
 gle cannon unspiked the British could turn 
 it upon his victorious army and nullify its 
 past success ; indeed, if unmolested, they 
 could proceed up the river until opposite 
 New Orleans, and, with a single field-piece, 
 have the city at their mercy. 
 
 Fortunately, Thornton's success had been 
 a tardy one and the main British army had 
 been effectually disposed of by the time he 
 205 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 had routed Patterson. Thus Jackson had 
 plenty of men at his disposal and was enabled 
 to throw a strong force across the river by 
 marching it back to the city and sending it 
 over by the ferry there. The action was 
 prompt and the retreating militia were soon 
 met by reenforcements under General Hum- 
 bert, who rallied them, but before they could 
 attempt to storm the works from which they 
 had been driven. General Lambert, too 
 shocked and perplexed to realize the impor- 
 tance of Thornton's success, ordered the cap- 
 tured works to be abandoned and the Brit- 
 ish to return to the eastern side of the river. 
 The Americans, now eager for battle, again 
 took possession of the evacuated defense, 
 drilled the spikes from the cannon, and waited 
 for another attack. But they waited in vain ; 
 no attack came, neither was there as much as 
 an alarm on either side of the river. 
 
 For Lambert, sick at heart and utterly 
 
 unable to cope with the situation, did not 
 
 follow up his immense advantage ; instead, 
 
 he sent in a flag of truce, and after some de- 
 
 206 
 
PROGRESS 
 
 lay a truce was allowed, during which the 
 dead were to be buried. 
 
 But they were not buried that day nor 
 evening. All night the dead on the field re- 
 mained close to the American army. What 
 a harvest was here ! Windrow upon windrow 
 of red-coated humanity sacrificed to ambition 
 and man's hatred for his brother. There 
 they lay, a lesson that the world is just be- 
 ginning to study — a commentary on war. 
 So let us leave the ghastly scene ; for this, 
 even to-day, history can not show a fair ex- 
 cuse for England. 
 
 For ten days the two armies lay near each 
 other, the Americans unmolested, the British 
 suffering from an occasional cannonade from 
 across the river. Nothing was left for them 
 but ignominious retreat, and on the i8th 
 they stole away after having, with immense 
 labor, constructed a flimsy, reed-covered road 
 through the morass. Over this, regiment by 
 regiment, they withdrew in the night, leaving 
 dummy sentinels standing, their flags flying, 
 and their cannon destroyed. In England 
 207 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 the move was considered a most masterly 
 one, and brought General Lambert a knight- 
 hood; Pakenham, the brave and foolish, 
 was well-nigh forgotten, while it was pro- 
 claimed that Lambert was a military genius. 
 A number of the dangerously wounded who 
 were too low to be moved, were by letter 
 consigned to the care of Jackson. 
 
 The enemy had gone. They had come 
 in glory and hope ; they had retreated hope- 
 less, decimated, and covered with mud. It 
 was some hours before the move was even 
 suspected by Jackson, but when upon in- 
 vestigation it was discovered, the great cam- 
 paign was practically ended, though the line 
 was still maintained, and military discipline 
 was as strict as ever. 
 
 For though the British had retreated to 
 their ships, there still lay the ships, a menace, 
 and no one knew where the next blow would 
 fall. 
 
 During this period of inaction the men 
 in the ditches, exposed to all the pernicious 
 influences of cold, wet, and malaria, began to 
 208 
 
PROGRESS 
 
 sicken and die. Before the news of peace 
 reached New Orleans more than five hun- 
 dred had died, and the hospitals in the city 
 were filled with sick soldiers. 
 
 It was on March 13th that the authorita- 
 tive news of peace reached Jackson, though 
 unofficial rumors had long preceded the wel- 
 come message. Then it was seen that the 
 great battle had been without warrant ; yet 
 that did not affect the amount of praise 
 showered on the victor and his troops. The 
 latter were disbanded, and after a rest of four 
 months the hero-general and now idol of the 
 South was called to Washington by the 
 Secretary of War. To Washington, there- 
 fore, went Jackson, taking with him his wife, 
 and traveling all the way in a coach drawn 
 by four horses, a piece of extravagance that 
 brought his political enemies about his ears, 
 who charged him with aristocratic preten- 
 sions, although a knowledge of the roads of 
 those days shows that at times it was all the 
 four could do to move the heavy vehicle ; 
 two horses could not have dragged it. 
 209 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 The result of his Washington visit was 
 that he was appointed commander of the 
 Southern military division, and soon after the 
 Seminole Indians of Florida committed a 
 number of outrages on United States citizens. 
 To punish them Jackson pursued them into 
 Florida (still Spanish territory), marching in 
 and taking possession of a Spanish fort in 
 his old vehement and high-handed way, and 
 thus close to his enemy he scattered or killed 
 the hostiles. In connection with this move 
 he executed two Englishmen whom, he 
 claimed, had incited the red men to outrage, 
 and this incident came near to plunging the 
 two nations into war again. However, he 
 was exonerated by Congress, and the matter 
 died. 
 
 210 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 AMBITIONS SATISFIED 
 
 In 182 1, when Florida was ceded to the 
 United States, Jackson was appointed its 
 Governor. But he had no taste for civil of- 
 fice, and after a series of incidents, ludicrous 
 in reality, but tragic enough to those who 
 suffered, he resigned the appointment and re- 
 tired to private life. Home and its comforts 
 were, for the time being, his only thoughts. 
 He was now fifty-four years of age, prema- 
 turely old, and absolutely broken down, phys- 
 ically. His income, for those times, was 
 large. One would have thought that, under 
 these circumstances, ambition would have 
 slept, and the man be content to pass in 
 peace the remainder of his days, which were 
 always attended with more or less pain. But 
 with Andrew Jackson nothing slept. When 
 211 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 his State nominated him for the presidency 
 of the United States, it was done without his 
 hands pulling the wires, but he arose to the 
 occasion, and reached for a bauble higher 
 than those he had obtained. 
 
 Although he received more votes than any 
 of the contestants, he was not elected by the 
 people. A majority was necessary and, ac- 
 cording to the then existing laws, the se- 
 lection fell to the House of Representa- 
 tives. There were three candidates — Jackson, 
 Adams, and Crawford — and though our hero, 
 his friends, and, indeed, the entire country 
 considered Jackson's selection a foregone 
 conclusion, Adams was chosen. There was 
 political treachery somewhere, and Jackson 
 never forgave those whom he considered act- 
 ive in bringing about the result. 
 
 But four years later he was nominated 
 again, and though the campaign was shock- 
 ingly personal, though every act of his life 
 was laid bare, his motives misrepresented, 
 his wife maligned, and his own character 
 painted blacker than it could possibly be, he 
 
 212 
 
AMBITIONS SATISFIED 
 
 was triumphantly elected, and again, four 
 years after, elected to succeed himself. 
 
 His political acts have no place in a vol- 
 ume of the scope of this. Suffice it to say 
 that he kept the country in a turmoil, al- 
 though he kept peace abroad and inaugurated 
 policies which exist to this day. 
 
 He was successful in nearly all he under- 
 took to do. He killed the arrogant United 
 States Bank. He humbled John C. Cal- 
 houn and the ** nullifiers " of South Carolina. 
 He triumphed over those political giants of 
 that day Henry Clay and Daniel Webster. 
 He raised the standard of citizenship in the 
 nation. He was intensely patriotic and in- 
 tensely opinionated, as such intense person- 
 ages are sure to be, but, withal, he was open 
 to conviction. 
 
 PI is wife died suddenly, just previous to 
 his first inauguration, and from this prostra- 
 ting blow he never recovered ; it affected both 
 his health and his spirits, for he loved her 
 tenderly and loyally. He often remarked 
 that heaven would be no heaven for him if 
 ^5 213 
 
THE LAND HERO OF 1812 
 
 his wife was not there. This affliction was 
 said to have aged him twenty years in a 
 single day. 
 
 When he retired from the presidency he 
 was an old man in years, being seventy, and 
 older in body. He returned to his home, 
 The Hermitage, to pass his remaining days, 
 which were to be but few. He had been in 
 the grasp of consumption for years ; one lung 
 was gone, the other affected, and he had fre- 
 quent hemorrhages. His old wound, re- 
 ceived in the duel with Dickinson, troubled 
 him ; the ball in his shoulder had been ex- 
 tracted while he was in the presidential chair. 
 
 But the still vigorous brain of the man 
 kept him alive, or allowed him to die but 
 slowly ; he wore out, in fact. Shortly after 
 his retirement he put his old life behind him 
 and joined the church, as he had promised 
 his wife he would do when his motives for 
 doing so could not be impugned, and his 
 later days were passed in reading his Bible 
 and hymn-book and seeing his old and in- 
 timate friends. 
 
 214 
 
AMBITIONS SATISFIED 
 
 On June, 8, 1845, this singular but great 
 old man passed away as peacefully as most 
 men fall asleep. He had made enemies by 
 the hundreds, but friends by the thousands. 
 He had been neither better nor worse than 
 most men, but his overpowering individuality 
 made both his vices and his virtues seem 
 greater than they really were. 
 
 The whole country mourned him, and, as 
 in the case of Washington, even his enemies 
 united in saying kind things about him. Thus 
 does death weave a mantle of charity for a 
 shroud. Is it not a pity that the living but 
 rarely feel its warmth ? 
 
 (1) 
 
 FINIS 
 
 215 
 
BY CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY^ 
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 — The St. Louis Globe-Democrat, 
 
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 romance or series of romances. Martinique plays an important part in 
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 MR. MOORE* S OTHER BOOKS, 
 
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 i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
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 and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him." 
 
 — Richard le Gallienne in the London Star. 
 
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 perfect of its kind, fill these chapters with joy and gladness for the reader." 
 
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 for it is a work of art. This story taken with the best of his previous work 
 gives Dr. Doyle a very high place in modern \eX\.&c%''— Chicago Times-Herald. 
 
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 Kate Bonnet 
 
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 it."— Julian Hawthorne, in the Minneapolis Tribune. 
 
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 By MAX PEMBERTON. A - 
 
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 Doctor Xavier. 
 
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 wardly conventional propriety, only adds to the sense of 
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