“All of my men I could see was their long rifles rested on the logs before them. They obeyed their orders well; not a shot was fired until the redcoats were within forty yards. I heard Coffee’s voice as he roared out: ‘Now, men, aim for the center of the cross-belts! Fire!’ A second after the order a crackling, blazing flash ran all along our line. The smoke hung so heavily in the misty morning air that I could not see what had happened. I called Tom Overton and Abner Duncan, of my staff, and we galloped towards Coffee’s line. In a few seconds after the first fire there came another sharp, ringing volley. As I came within one hundred and fifty yards of Coffee, the smoke lifted enough for me to make out what was happening. The British were falling back in a confused, disorderly mass, and the entire first ranks of their column were blown away. For two hundred yards in our front the ground was covered with a mass of writhing wounded, dead and dying redcoats.
“By the time the rifles were wiped the British line was reformed, and on it came again. This time they were led by General Pakenham in person, gallantly mounted, and riding as though he was on parade. Just before he got within range of Coffee’s line, I heard a single rifle-shot from a group of country carts we had been using, about one hundred and seventy-five yards distant, and a moment thereafter I saw Pakenham reel and pitch out of his saddle. I have always believed he fell from the bullet of a free man of color, who was a famous rifle-shot, and came from the Atakappas region of Louisiana. The second advance was precisely like the first in its ending. In five volleys the 1,500 or more riflemen killed and wounded 2,117 British soldiers, two thirds of them killed dead or mortally wounded. I did not know where General Pakenham was lying, or I should have sent to him, or gone in person, to offer any service in my power to render.
“I was told he lived two hours after he was hit. His wound was directly through the liver and bowels. General Keene, I hear, was killed dead. They sent a flag to me, asking leave to gather up their wounded and bury their dead, which, of course, I granted. I was told by a wounded officer that the rank and file absolutely refused to make a third charge. ‘We have no chance with such shooting as these Americans do,’ they said.”
Commenting on the letter, and after referring to Napoleon’s expressions of admiration for the American leader’s action at New Orleans, William Hugh Roberts, the noted writer, said:
“This concludes the material part of General Jackson’s letter. It was in the feverish glories of the Hundred Days that Napoleon came into possession of Mr. Monroe’s translation. There was no doubt about the facts. There happened to be abroad then in France two or three American gentlemen who were accustomed to the use of the rifle. One of them selected a weapon out of the four sent from America to the French emperor, and in Napoleon’s presence did some really excellent sharpshooting at one hundred yards.
“Had Napoleon won Waterloo, it is possible that he would have organized a corps of sharpshooters and armed them with the American rifle, which was capable of a more deadly accuracy than any European arm of the kind, not excepting even the rifle of Switzerland. General Jackson repeated the compliment of Napoleon to the typical American weapon to General William Selby Harney, then a field officer of dragoons, who in turn related the incident to the writer.”
ANENT THE SHANNON FAMILY.
Eleanor Lexington, in the Buffalo Sunday News, states that Nathaniel Shannon, who was born in Ireland 1655, came to this country when he was thirty-two years old and made his home in Boston, where in 1701 he was a member of the Old South Church. Twenty-two years later he died, and the stone marking his grave in the Old Granary Burying Ground in Boston is still standing. Nathaniel’s brother, Robert, was mayor of Derry in 1689, and Nathaniel was also a man of affairs, holding many town offices. He was the first naval officer of the port of Boston and a merchant of prominence.
The papers now preserved in the Massachusetts State Archives show that he was a man of good education. His wife was Elizabeth, and their children were Nathaniel J., Robert, who is supposed to have died unmarried, and Samuel, who married Ann Miller. Nathaniel the second married Abigail Vaughan, whose father was one of the royal councillors and also chief justice of New Hampshire. Nathaniel and Abigail had two sons, Nathaniel and Cutts. The four children of Nathaniel were his namesake, and George, Margaret and Abigail. Nathaniel and his wife, Abigail Vaughan, lived in Portsmouth, N. H., where he was a ship merchant. He also lived in Ipswich. Among other records of this generation, still extant, is that of a deed conveying land to Jonathan Belcher, 1720. Nathaniel was a slave owner, and, by will, left negroes to his sons.
We find that Dover, N. H., was another stronghold of the Shannons, and Thomas, who married Lilias Watson, held many town offices. In 1785 he was captain of the New Hampshire militia. “He was a zealous supporter of the Revolution and active in recruiting its armies.” He died in 1800, aged about fifty years. Heitman’s Officers of the American Revolution names William Shannon of Virginia, ensign and lieutenant. O’Seanchain is said to have been the first form of the surname, Shannon. From O’Seanchain to Shanahan, Shanason, is considered an easy feat to accomplish by those who are skilled in such matters. Then from Shanahan to Shanon or Shannon is as easy as rolling off the proverbial log. Seanchain or Seanchan is composed of two Celtic words, “seancha,” meaning an antiquarian or genealogist, and “an,” one who. Seanchan is, then, one who is an antiquarian. Old records frequently give the name as Shanon, or with one “n.” The O’Sheanchains have a long pedigree, belonging, as they do, to that branch of the Celtic race which alone of all European races of the period antedating the Christian era has maintained its identity to the present time.