On the Border with Andrew Jackson

by John T. McIntyre

Just about this time there came the tidings from Fort Stoddart that fifteen hundred men with a great store of supplies were about to move up the Alabama River to a place called Hickory Grounds. This was, perhaps, the most cheerful and helpful news that Jackson had heard in a long time; and from then on he felt safe as to the future. Let him but open the way to that point and his work in the Creek country was done.

So, getting his force under arms, he led them through the forest to the bend of the Tallapoosa where the Creeks had made their stronghold. This bend was much like a horseshoe in shape, and built across the narrow tongue of land was a “snake fence” barrier of logs and earth. Between the wall and the river was a space of perhaps a hundred acres; and in front of the wall trees had been felled to form a shelter for sharp-shooters. The lodges and huts of the Indians were built upon the river’s edge; and here their canoes were tied, to be used in escaping across the river if the fort was carried by the white men.

The leaders of the savages had boasted of the strength of this position, of its possibilities for defense or retreat. In the first of these claims there was some truth; the barrier was strong and the zigzag manner of its building enabled the Indians to sweep an attacking party with a deadly cross fire; but as to retreat in case of need, it lacked every necessary advantage.

Coming in sight of the bend, Jackson put his plan of battle into instant operation. He planted his infantry before the barrier of logs and mounted his two small cannon on a hill eighty yards away where they commanded the Creek position. Colonel Coffee, with the mounted troops and friendly Indians, was instructed to ford the Tallapoosa and hold the opposite bank at the rear of the fort.

Allowing time for the cavalry to accomplish this movement, General Jackson opened with his two pieces of artillery; the shot thudded upon the logs and buried themselves in the earth, but apparently no damage was done.

“It looks as if the guns were too small,” observed Jack Davis, his keen eyes upon the Creek barrier.

“Hark to the redskins hoot!” said Frank, as yells of mockery came from the stronghold.

“That’ll not be for long,” said Jack, grimly. “I see the general’s brows coming together. He’ll be fighting mad in a little while, and then the Indians had better look out.”

But General Jackson knew the position selected by the Creeks was a formidable one, and so held back any desire he might have had to launch a frontal attack. This, he felt sure, would mean the certain death of many of his soldiers; and if the thing could be done without that, he was most anxious so to accomplish it.

While the two small guns were booming, and the riflemen were endeavoring to pick off any Indians who showed themselves, the Cherokees who accompanied Colonel Coffee in his movement toward the rear of the Indian fort introduced a piece of Indian warfare which at once brought matters to a crisis. Running Elk, who was among them, saw the Creek canoes tied upon the opposite bank. Without a word he plunged into the water and began to swim toward them.