The general, whose principles had led him to oppose, with all his energy, a measure disapproved of by France—a measure which had produced such disastrous results to Spain, and the heroic victims of which were now before him, was deeply affected by the expressions of gratitude now showered upon him; and, in an eloquent and impressive reply, paid his tribute of esteem, admiration, and regret, to the memory of the unfortunate Riego; he had already, on more than one occasion, openly expressed his opinion on the unhappy death of that generous martyr to liberty, and the whole American nation had partaken of the same feelings, for the consistent and courageous defender of the revolution in the peninsula.
On the following day, many other deputations waited on General Lafayette, and expressed to him their attachment, and devotion to his principles. Among them were those of the militia staff, of the medical society, of the clergy, and of the free blacks, who, in 1815, courageously assisted in the defence of the city; and our two last evenings were occupied, the one by a public ball, and the other by a masonic dinner. I will not attempt to describe these entertainments, which, from the beauty, elegance, and amiability of the ladies, the enthusiasm and frank cordiality of the citizens, the sedulous and delicate attentions of the magistrates, the richness and profusion of the details, equalled any thing we had ever met with.
Nevertheless, in the midst of the pleasures thus afforded him by the Louisianians, the general experienced moments of inquietude and sorrow. Sinister rumours reached him; he was told of a serious dispute between the staff and the officers of the militia, on the subject of certain prerogatives of the legion, denied by one, and insisted on by the others with equal warmth, which might produce bloody results after the departure of him whose presence was a curb even on the most headstrong. In so serious an affair he did not hesitate on using all his influence to reconcile citizens, whom a moment of error and a false point of honour had temporarily divided; he, therefore, invited all the officers of the different corps to meet at his house. When they arrived, he told them that they were, doubtless, aware of his reasons in thus bringing them together; that he was informed of what had passed, and the evil consequences that would ensue; he observed, that he felt that he was the cause, however unwillingly, and could he have foreseen such unpleasant circumstances, he should have written to decline their invitation. He begged them to consider the injurious reports it would occasion as regarded all parties, and concluded by begging that they would accept of him as a mediator.
One of the superior officers immediately advanced, and with an honourable frankness said to him, “General, I place my honour in your hands, and now agree to whatever you may dictate.” The eldest of the complainants then observed, “General, I also confide my honour, and that of my comrades, who freely agree with me, in your keeping.” The general took a hand of each of these brave men, and having united them, had the satisfaction of seeing the happiest concord established between men, who an instant before had renounced the pleasing title of brothers in arms. This interesting scene had many witnesses, who soon promulgated the details. The news of it was received with astonishing enthusiasm, as it was a sincere reconciliation between all that Louisiana cherished and revered.
General Lafayette had intended to visit the scene of the battle of the 8th of January, but the continuance of stormy weather, and the necessity for his complying in two or three days to all the kind invitations that were heaped upon him, obliged him to relinquish the idea. A colonel of the staff, who witnessed the chagrin this sacrifice occasioned me, had the goodness to propose that I should accompany him, whilst the general was paying some private visits. I accepted his invitation with eagerness, and we immediately set out in a carriage he sent for. On the way he informed me that he was born in France; that placed, from his birth, in the privileged class of society, he had, from his infancy, been brought up in the aristocratic prejudices of his caste; and that, although very young at the epoch of the French revolution, he believed it his duty to defend the rights of a few against the natural and sacred rights of the many, and that he had joined the Vendeans. “Then,” said he, “I believed in the legitimacy of an absolute monarchy, and in the hereditary succession of virtue, with all the fervour of ignorance, and I at first fought for them, with all the courage and devotion of fanaticism; but the campaign had not terminated before my reason, bursting the bonds with which education had loaded it, taught me, that instead of combating, as I had believed, for justice and truth, I was merely the instrument of a few men, determined to sacrifice every thing, even their country, to their own private interests, and I sheathed my sword, which I ought never to have drawn in so unjust, so absurd a cause.” He went on to say, that he would have re-entered France, but was deterred by the scenes of bloodshed and confusion then so prevalent in that country. He, therefore, sought in other lands that happiness he was denied at home. After traversing all Europe, and every where finding the same criminal alliance of royalty, nobility, and clergy, against the welfare and interests of the people, he finally settled in the United States. He added, “I had only lived at New Orleans a short time, when, in 1815, the inveterate enemies of the liberty of others in both hemispheres presented themselves before that city. I flew to arms, happy in finding an occasion of proving my gratitude to my new country, and my sincere attachment to the principles which governed it, and I am happy in being able to say, that my presence was not wholly useless on the field of battle we are about to visit.”
My companion had scarcely uttered these words, when our carriage stopped, and we stept out near the extreme right of the lines. Before examining them, the colonel had the goodness to explain to me the operations that preceded and brought on the battle of the 8th. I understood, from these details, how difficult it had been for General Jackson, with the handful of men he had at his disposition, to oppose the landing and rapid progress of an army of 15,000 men, or quadruple his own.
The position chosen by the American general to wait for reinforcements, and to arrest the advance of so formidable an enemy, appeared to me to be very judicious. He threw up entrenchments about five miles below the city, along an old canal, the left of which was lost in the depths of a swampy wood, whilst the right rested on the river. The total length of this line was about eight hundred toises, but as three hundred toises of the left were unassailable, the enemy was confined in his attack to a front of about five hundred toises, and obliged to advance in full view over a perfectly level plain. Nevertheless, whether from want of time, or want of reflection, General Jackson committed two serious errors; the first was in erecting his entrenchment in a straight line, and at right angles to the river, so that he not only deprived himself of the advantage of cross fires, but he also exposed himself, if the English, more skilful or fortunate, had sent a few vessels up the river in the rear of his lines; he exposed himself, I say, to the danger of having had his whole line enfiladed by the enemy’s artillery. The other fault was, erecting his second line at so great a distance from the first, that if this had been forced, he would never have been enabled to have gained the other, and his troops would have been cut to pieces in the interval. These two faults would have sufficed, as may readily be supposed, to compromit the safety of an army more numerous and better disciplined than that of General Jackson; but the destiny of American liberty, or rather the supernatural courage of the citizens, who, on that day, fought for the preservation of their independence, and the safety of their families, with the inflexible firmness of Jackson himself, shaded with the laurels of a most brilliant victory those faults which would have destroyed a less patriotic army.
I will record the details, which were given me with great clearness and precision, of all the operations that preceded that glorious day. I refer those who wish to study them to the excellent memoir of Mr. Lacarriere Latour, and to the equally distinguished accounts of Messrs. Brackenridge and Mac Fee; but I cannot resist the desire of now retracing some of the most brilliant acts which saved Louisiana, and immortalized its defenders.
Notwithstanding all his exertions, General Jackson was unable to collect for the defence of his entrenchments more than 3,200 men, and fourteen pieces of cannon of different calibers, pressed for time, he had been obliged to form the upper part of his works with bales of cotton, brought down from the city. He remained twenty-four hours in this position, expecting an attack every instant, when, on the 8th of January, at break of day, he perceived the English army, 12,000 strong, advancing on him in three columns, the most formidable of which menaced that part of his left wing, defended by the Tennessee and Kentucky militia. Each soldier, besides his arms, carried fascines or a scaling ladder, and marched in the most profound silence. The Americans permitted them to advance within half cannon shot, and then opened on them a terrible fire of artillery, to which the English replied by three cheers, and the flight of some Congreve rockets, and then hurried their march, closing their ranks as they were mowed down by the shot. This coolness and determination, which seemed as if it would ensure them a speedy victory, did not last long. The moment they arrived within musket shot, the Tennesseans and Kentuckians commenced a fire of small arms, which instantly broke their columns, and forced them to seek for shelter behind some thickets, which covered their right. It is true, that infantry never kept up so constant and destructive a fire, as that of these intrepid American militia. The men, arranged six deep, loaded the arms, and rapidly passed them to the front rank, composed of able marksmen, each of whose balls carried certain death to the enemy.
Whilst the English officers, with a courage worthy of a better cause and of a happier destiny, endeavoured to rally their scattered troops, to lead them to a fresh assault, an American artilleryman, in the battery commanded by Lieutenant Spotts, perceived in the plain, a group of officers, agitated and dismayed, carrying off some one with some difficulty. “It is perhaps the commander-in-chief and only wounded,” exclaimed he, “he must not escape so.” He levelled his piece against them, fired, and Packenham the English commander was killed in the arms of his friends. The desire for revenge now rallied the English; officers and soldiers pressed forward in a new column, led on with fury by Kean and Gibbs, the successors of Packenham. But the fire of the Americans redoubled in intensity and precision; Kean and Gibbs successively fell, the one mortally, the other dangerously wounded, and the column again broken, disappeared, leaving only its wreck on the plain.