Poor Pakenham saw how things were going, and did all that a general could do to rally his broken troops. He prepared to lead them on himself, when he received a slight wound in the knee, which killed his horse. Mounting another, he again headed the Forty-fourth, when a second ball took effect more fatally, and he dropped lifeless in the arms of his aid-de-camp. Bravely leading their divisions, Generals Gibbs and Keene were both wounded, and borne helpless from the field. All was now confusion and dismay. Without leaders, and ignorant of what was to be next done, the troops first halted, and then began to retire, till finally, the retreat was changed into a flight, and they quitted the ground in the utmost disorder. But the retreat was covered in gallant style by the reserve. The Seventh and Forty-third, under General Lambert, presented the appearance of a renewed attack, and the enemy, overawed, did not pursue.
On the granting of a two-days' truce for the burial of the dead, prompted by curiosity, I mounted my horse and rode to the front. Of all the sights I ever witnessed, that which met me there was, beyond comparison, the most shocking and the most humiliating. Within the compass of a few hundred yards, were gathered together nearly a thousand bodies, all of them arrayed in British uniforms. Not a single American was among them; all were English. And they were thrown by dozens into shallow holes, scarcely deep enough to hide their bodies. Nor was this all. An American officer stood by smoking a cigar, and abruptly counting the slain with a look of savage exultation, repeating that their loss amounted only to eight killed and fourteen wounded. I confess that, when I beheld the scene, I hung down my head half in sorrow, and half in anger. With my officious informant, I had every inclination to pick a quarrel. But he was on duty, and an armistice existed, both of which forbade. I turned my horse's head and galloped back to the camp.
The changes of expression now visible in every countenance, no language can portray. Only twenty hours ago, and all was hope and animation; wherever you went, you were enlivened by the sounds of merriment and raillery. The expected attack was mentioned, not only in terms of sanguine hope, but in perfect confidence as to the result. Now gloom and discontent everywhere prevailed. Disappointment, grief, indignation and rage succeeded each other in all bosoms; nay, so were the troops overwhelmed by a sense of disgrace, that, for awhile they retained their sorrow without hinting at the cause. Nor was this dejection because of laurels tarnished, wholly. The loss of comrades was to the full, as afflicting as the loss of honor; for, out of more than seven thousand in action on this side, no fewer than two thousand had fallen. Among these were two generals in chief command, and many officers of courage and ability. Hardly an individual survived who had not to mourn the loss of some special and boon companion.
British Excuses for Defeat.
Many causes for the failure of the campaign of invasion, and for the disastrous issue of the battle of the eighth, were conjectured in the English army. Almost universal blame was attributed to Colonel Mullins, of the Forty-fourth Regiment, which was detailed under orders to prepare and have ready, and to carry to the front on the morning of the eighth, fascines and ladders with which to cross the ditch and scale the parapet, as the soldiers fought their way to the breastwork of the Americans. It was freely charged that the Colonel deserted his trust and at the moment of need was half a mile to the rear. It was then that Pakenham, learning of Mullins' conduct, placed himself at the head of the Forty-fourth and endeavored to lead them to the front with the implements needed to storm the works, when he fell mortally wounded. Of this incident another British officer, Major B.E. Hill, writes:
Before sunset of the 7th, I was directed to carry instructions to Colonel Mullins, of the 44th, respecting the redoubt in which the fascines and scaling ladders were placed, and to report the result of my interview to Sir Edward Pakenham. I saw Colonel Mullins, and read to him the directions from headquarters, begging to know if he thoroughly understood their purport? I was assured that nothing could be clearer. Reporting to Sir Edward, he thanked me for so completely satisfying him that the orders so important would be certainly and well executed.
Colonel Mullins may have been guilty of conduct unbecoming an officer, for which he was tried and cashiered in England; he probably saved his life at the expense of his honor, in being absent from his post on that day. But the British officers magnified the importance of the presence of himself and his regiment with their fascines and ladders ready for use. Even with the help of these devices, there were not men enough in the English army to have crossed the ditch, climbed the parapet, and made a breach in the breastwork line of the Americans. Some of them might have reached the ditch alive, as did some of their comrades, but like those comrades they would have died in the ditch or been made prisoners. The Americans, too, could have used the bayonet as well as the British, if necessary.
Battle of the Eighth of January on the West Bank of the River.
We have mentioned that after the night battle of the twenty-third of December General Jackson ordered General Morgan to move his command of Louisiana troops from English Turn, seven miles below the British camp at Villere's, and to take a position on the west bank of the Mississippi, opposite to the American camp. Very naturally, the possibility, and even the probability, of the enemy, when his army was made formidable by all the reinforcements coming up, throwing a heavy flanking force across the river, marching it to a point opposite New Orleans and forcing a surrender of the city, suggested itself to the military eye of Jackson. After the latter entrenched at Rodrique Canal, by the first of January, there was no other strategical route by which the British could have successfully assailed the city. The importance of this seems to have been fully comprehended neither by the one combatant nor the other until too late to fully remedy the omission.
Just such a flanking movement was undertaken by the English at the latest day, which brought on a second battle on the eighth, on the right bank of the river, resulting in a defeat to the American forces, and well-nigh ending in disaster to the American cause. It is in evidence that this strategic movement was the result of a council of war held by the British officers, at which Admiral Sir Alexander Cochrane was present. This idea of reaching the city by a heavy detachment thrown across the river and marching up to a point opposite, in cannon reach, had occurred before; but the difficulty was in finding a way to cross over the troops and artillery, with the Americans in command of the means of transportation. The suggestion came from Admiral Cochrane that the Villere Canal from the bayou could be easily deepened and widened to the river bank and opened into the river for the passage of the boats and barges from the fleet, and a sufficient force thrown across the river in that way under cover of night. This seemed feasible, and the strategy determined on. It is related further that Lord Pakenham insisted that the main attack upon the city for its capture should be made by a heavy detachment in this direction, and at the same time only a demonstration in force made on the American breastworks with the whole army, supported by the artillery. He urged that to directly assault the fortified line in front would be at a fearful loss of life, if successful; if it failed it would be disastrous. The Admiral replied to this tauntingly, that there was no cause for alarm over anticipated defeat; he would undertake to force the lines of the American militia with two or three thousand marines. In allusion to this, Latour says: "If the British commander-in-chief was so unmindful of what he owed to his country, and to the army committed to his charge, as to yield to the ill-judged and rash advice of the Admiral, he sacrificed reason in a moment of irritation; though he atoned with his life for having acted contrary to his own judgment." Undoubtedly the English made their last and most fatal blunder here.