Crash!
Another shell ricochetted across the still surface of the harbor and sunk itself in the side of a piratical brig.
“Hello!” cried a Lieutenant, running up to the United States Commander. “They’re giving up already. See! The beggars are hastening ashore in order to skip into the woods.”
“I’m afraid so,” answered the disappointed Commodore. “All my pains for nothing. The fellows are getting away.”
Sure enough—afraid to remain and fight it out—the craven followers of Lafitte now turned their schooners to the shore—ran their bows into the sand, and, leaping overboard, made into the forest as fast as their legs could carry them. Thus—without firing a shot—the cowardly pirates of Barrataria “took to the bush.”
“The enemy had mounted on their vessels, twenty pieces of cannon of different calibre,” wrote Patterson, after this tame affair. “And, as I have since learnt, they had from eight hundred to one thousand men of all nations and colors. When I perceived the pirates forming their vessels into a line of battle I felt confident, from their fleet and very advantageous position, and their number of men, that they would have fought me. Their not doing so I regret; for had they, I should have been enabled more effectually to destroy or make prisoners of them and their leaders; but it is a subject of great satisfaction to me, to have effected the object of my enterprise, without the loss of a man. On the afternoon of the 23rd, I got under way with my whole squadron, in all seventeen vessels, but during the night one escaped and the next day I arrived at New Orleans with my entire command.”
Thus ended the magnificent (?) attempt of the vainglorious Lafitte to stem the advance of the Government of the United States. In the parlance of the camp, “He was a fust-class quitter.”
But he did not show himself to be a “quitter” in the battle of New Orleans.
The English and Americans, in fact, were soon at each other’s throats in the ungentle game of war. At different times the British had sought to attack the pirates of Barrataria, in the hope of taking their prizes and armed vessels. On June 23rd, 1813, while two of Lafitte’s privateers were lying to off of Cat Island, an English sloop-of-war came to anchor at the entrance of the pass, and sent out two boats in the endeavor to capture the rakish sea-robbers. But they were repulsed with severe and galling loss.
On the 2nd of September, 1814, an armed brig appeared on the coast, opposite the famous pass to the home of the rangers of the sea. She fired a gun at a smuggler, about to enter, and forced her to poke her nose into a sand-bar; she then jibed over and came to anchor at the entrance to the shallows.