DALE’S HIGHLANDERS
By Captain H. W. Carpenter
United States Marine Corps
One of the finest examples of what discipline can do in affecting the conduct of soldiers and others whose lives are passed amid dangerous surroundings, is furnished by the charge of Dale’s Highlanders at the battle of New Orleans, January 8, 1815, just ninety-two years ago.
In order to understand just what this charge meant to the brave Scots, it is necessary to summarize briefly the events which preceded the memorable battle, a fight which, as one of General Andrew Jackson’s cannoneers expressed it, “was lost before the fighting began,” for a peace was signed while the preliminary movements were going on.
A powerful British fleet with a large military force under Sir Edward Pakenham, brother-in-law of the Duke of Wellington, sailed from the West Indies to attack New Orleans and arrived in Lake Borgne about December twentieth, 1814. The small American flotilla which opposed their landing was destroyed, and the troops disembarked on Pine Island.
Finding themselves in a swamp, the British floundered through the mud until about nightfall of the first day of the advance, ground suitable for a bivouac was discovered near the Mississippi River, and not far from the position along the Rodriguez Canal, which had been selected by General Jackson for the defense of the city. Here, behind hastily constructed works of mud and cotton bales, were drawn up the defenders, composed of a few United States regular artillery, volunteers from New Orleans and Kentucky, many of the latter unarmed; a force of pirates and smugglers from Baratara Bay, under their captains, Dominique and Beluche; and last, but not least, about twenty-five hundred backwoods riflemen from the Cumberland Valley, in all not above thirty-two hundred men.
Hardly were the invaders established in their bivouac before they were rudely disturbed by a night attack from the Americans, during which they, for the first time, discovered the prowess of the backwoodsman and his long rifle, and during the short fight which followed lost two hundred and thirteen killed and wounded, and seventy captured.
Reinforcements, which increased their number to thrice that of the Americans, having arrived from the fleet, the invaders remained in or near their bivouac until the morning of December thirtieth, 1814, but never for a moment were they permitted to be at peace; for by day their hiding places were sought out by the guns of the gunboat Carolina, at anchor in the river, and as soon as night enfolded them the backwoodsmen took up the bloody work. Sentries were shot down as they walked their posts, and to enjoy the warmth or light of the camp fire was but to court almost certain death from the unerring rifles. Knife and tomahawk also played their parts, until the harassed British were not only panic-stricken at the swift death which overtook so many of them, but bitterly complained of the uncivilized methods of their adversaries.
The situation became so serious that Sir Edward himself came up from the ships to take over the command from General Keane, and plans were at once perfected to relieve matters by attacking the troublesome enemy. The commander in chief could not be made to believe that there was anything to be feared from backwoodsmen and untried militia when they were confronted by the pride of the British army in battle formation.
The Americans had been very busy with their works in the meantime, and had also mounted thereon five small field pieces, so that when, on the morning of the fourth day after Sir Edward’s arrival, a force of about two thousand men advanced to storm their position they were ready and met the adversaries with such a storm of well directed lead and iron that they were repulsed, and being unable to withdraw from the field sought shelter in the ditches and drains until, under cover of darkness, they were able to retreat, leaving over one hundred dead upon the field.
Sir Edward had become convinced that these men behind the mud walls were something different from the militia he had been accustomed to denounce, and therefore called a council of war and erected a battery composed of sugar hogsheads, mounting thirty-five guns within a third of a mile from General Jackson’s works. The attack was then renewed, but it was a repetition of the first one, so far as results were concerned, for the infantry were repulsed and the battery with its thirty-five guns completely dismantled. The British loss in this attack was eighty-odd killed and wounded, beside the thirty-five guns.
Reinforcements again arriving from the fleet. Sir Edward, furious and chagrined, determined, for his honor as well as for his safety, to renew the assault with such a force as would overwhelm the militia by mere weight of numbers, if nothing else, and therefore remained inactive for eight days in order to allow his men to get over the ill-effects of the two former failures, and to bring up every available man for the final effort.
On the morning of January 8th the British were early astir, and it was soon discovered from the American lines that the enemy was about to deliver his assault in three columns. General Keane’s Foot and Colonel Rennie’s Rifles formed the left of the British line; General Gibbs, with three thousand Peninsular Veterans, the right; Dale’s Highlanders, nine hundred and fifty strong, the center, and a force of about two thousand foot, under General Lambert, as a reserve—in all, about eighty-five hundred men.
Over them all hung a silence as of the grave, for none knew better than these men that they were about to march to almost certain death at the hands of the backwoodsmen and their long rifles. At break of day, by rocket signal, the columns moved into position; but some plantation buildings which concealed the advance of the Rifles having been set on fire by the American guns and the attack unmasked, Colonel Rennie promptly ordered a charge, for he had already been discovered by Commodore Patterson in the Louisiana, whose guns were decimating his ranks. The riflemen were immediately met by such a hail of bullets and grape from the breastwork guns and the backwoods rifles that they hesitated, halted, and the few that remained erect finally sought safety in flight, leaving General Keane, Colonel Rennie, and two-thirds of their number killed or wounded on the field.
Owing to some misunderstanding, the attack of General Gibbs’ column was delayed, but, after some hesitation, advanced to within one hundred yards of the works, where they were met by such a storm of American lead as to kill General Gibbs and to cause his men to melt away like snow before the summer sun.
Word of all this came to Sir Edward, who was with the Highlanders, and Colonel Dale was at once ordered to advance ahead of the wreck of General Gibbs’ force, which command was at once obeyed by the Scots, who started forward steadily and with bagpipes playing, only to be engulfed in the rout of the comrades in retreat. Colonel Dale was killed, Sir Edward Pakenham fell pierced by three balls, and, as all that remained of the other columns were in retreat, the fight was lost beyond repair.
The brave and thoroughly disciplined Highlanders alone remained. They could not advance, they would not retreat, so they remained where they were, under the galling fire of the long rifles, until out of the original nine hundred and fifty scarce four hundred remained alive and erect. Lieutenant Lavack achieved the distinction of being the only Englishman over the walls that day. The remaining Highlanders surrendered and no hostile British soldier remained upon the field. The fight was short, sharp and decisive, lasting but thirty minutes.
General Lambert, with the reserves, did not come within range, but of the six thousand British actually engaged, two thousand one hundred had fallen—more than one in every three. Of the fourteen hundred wounded, six hundred died within the week. Seven hundred and thirty dead were buried where they fell.
The American loss was only eight killed and thirteen wounded by artillery fire. The British retreated to their ships and sailed away, and New Orleans was saved, but discipline only could have caused that magnificent charge of Dale’s Highlanders at a time when they very well knew the battle was lost and the way in which they were to go was strewn with the bodies of those who had gone before.