The Second War with England, Vol. 2 of 2

by Joel Tyler Headley

Nov. 18.

Jackson, however, endeavored to keep alive the spirits and courage of his troops, and distributed all his private stores to the feeble and wounded. Having nothing left for himself and staff, he repaired to the bullock-pen, and from the offals cut tripe, on which he and they lived for days, in the vain hope of receiving the long-promised supplies. One day, as he sat at the foot of a tree, thinking of the hard condition of his men, and planning how he might find some relief from the increasing difficulties that pressed so hard upon him, one of the soldiers, observing that he was eating something, approached, and asked for a portion. Jackson looked up with a pleasant smile, and said, "I will, most cheerfully, divide with you what I have;" and taking some acorns from his pocket, he handed them to the astonished and mortified soldier. His solicitude for the army did not expend itself in words, for he shared with the meanest soldier his privations and his wants, while many of his subordinate officers possessed abundance. He let the latter enjoy the rations to which they were legally entitled, but himself scorned to sit down to a well-supplied table, while the army was perishing with want.

This state of things, of course, could not last long. The soldiers believed themselves neglected by the State for whose safety they were fighting; else why this protracted refusal to send them provisions? The incipient discontent was fed and aggravated by several of the officers, who were getting tired of the campaign, and wished to return home, till at last it broke out into open revolt. The militia regiments, en masse, had resolved to leave. Jackson received the communication with grief and indignation. He felt for his poor, half-starved men, but all his passionate nature was roused at this deliberate defiance of his authority. The militia, however, did not regard his expostulations or threats, and they fixed on a morning to commence their march. But as they drew out to take their departure, they found, to their astonishment, the volunteers paraded across the path, with Jackson at their head. He ordered them to return to their position, or they should answer for their disobedience with their lives. They obeyed; but the volunteers, indignant that they had been made the instrument of quelling the revolt, and anxious as the others were to get away, resolved next morning to depart themselves. To their surprise, however, they saw the militia drawn up in the same position they had occupied the day before, to arrest the first forward movement that was made. This was a dangerous game to play with armed men, and would not bear a second trial.

The cavalry, on the ground that the country yielded no forage for their horses, were permitted to retire to the neighborhood of Huntsville, where they promised to wait the orders of their commander.

In the mean time, Jackson hearing that provisions were on the way, made an effort to allay the excited, angry feelings that existed in the army, and so, on the 14th of November, invited all the field and platoon officers to his quarters, and after informing them that abundant supplies were close at hand, addressed them in a kind and sympathizing manner, told them how deeply he felt for their sufferings, and concluded by promising, if provisions did not arrive within two days, to lead them back himself to Tennessee. But this kind and conciliatory speech produced no effect on a portion of the army, and the first regiment of volunteers insisted on abandoning the fort. Permission to leave was granted, and Jackson, with chagrin and anguish, saw the men whom he refused to abandon at Natchez, forsake him in the heart of the forest, surrounded by hostile savages.

The two days expiring without the arrival of provisions, he was compelled to fulfill his promise to the army, and preparations were made for departure. In the midst of the breaking up of the camp, he sat down and wrote a letter to Colonel Pope, the contractor, which exhibits how deeply he felt, not merely this abandonment of him, but the failure of the expedition. He says in conclusion:

"I cannot express the torture of my feelings, when I reflect that a campaign so auspiciously begun, and which might be so soon and so gloriously terminated, is likely to be rendered abortive for the want of supplies. For God's sake, prevent so great an evil."

As the baggage-wagons were loaded up, and the men fell into marching order, the palpable evidence of the failure of the project on which he had so deeply set his heart, and the disgrace that awaited his army, became so painful, that he could not endure the sight, and he exclaimed in mingled grief and shame,

"If only two men will remain with me, I will never abandon the post."

"You have one, General!" exclaimed Captain Gordon, of the spies, who stood beside him.