by Roy Adkins
Cochrane had already given up the idea of capturing Mobile first and attacking New Orleans from that direction, and on 10 December the fleet anchored among the small islands to the east of New Orleans. A nearby large lagoon, called Lake Borgne, was separated from the open sea by a bar too shallow for large warships to pass over. It was defended by seven American gunboats that had between them twenty-three guns. The British ships now started to transfer about a thousand marines and seamen into forty-five gunboats, each armed with a carronade. Once the Americans realised that this was not a landing party but a force intended to capture their own boats, they started to retreat and the engagement became something of a marathon rowing race. The British boats rowed through the afternoon and night of the 12th, against the wind and tide, but were eventually forced to stop to allow the men to eat and rest. By dawn the American boats, Codrington related, ‘had increased their distance to eight or ten miles. On the 13th, at nine in the forenoon, the [British] boats had again, by great labour, reached nearly within shot of them, but were again obliged to anchor in order to feed and rest the people. At 10.30 they again weighed, and Captain Robert’s division drove one schooner on shore. The Fort of Port Louis fired on the boats, but took fright and burned not only the schooner but the depôt of naval stores there. At eight in the evening the boats were again obliged to anchor, owing to sheer fatigue.’28
They finally caught up with the American boats the next morning, and having anchored just out of range to rest, began the attack at half past ten. A fierce battle raged for two hours, but eventually the British won by sheer weight of numbers, having finally cornered the Americans. They paid dearly for the victory, however, with seventeen men killed and seventy-seven wounded against ten Americans killed and thirty-five wounded. Although the operation, which Codrington described as ‘a most brilliant affair’,29 was successful and had given the British control of Lake Borgne, the American gunboats had delayed the British advance for several days. Perhaps its most important consequence was that it robbed Jackson of most of his ability to keep the British under observation - for the next few days he had no accurate knowledge of their movements.
The British began to set up an intermediate base on Pea Island, just off the mainland, inside Lake Borgne. This was a dismal operation, as most of the stores and troops had to be ferried in rowing boats, and the island itself offered nothing in the way of shelter or comfort for the troops, as Lieutenant Gleig lamented:It is scarcely possible to imagine any place more completely wretched. It was a swamp, containing a small space of firm ground at one end, and almost wholly unadorned with trees of any sort or description. There were indeed, a few stinted firs upon the very edge of the water, but these were so diminutive in size, as hardly to deserve an higher classification than among the meanest of shrubs. The interior was the resort of wild ducks and other water fowl, and the pools and creeks with which it was intercepted abounded in dormant alligators. Upon this miserable desert, the army was assembled, without tents or huts, or any covering to shelter them from the inclemency of the weather . . . After having been exposed all day to a cold and pelting rain, we [had] landed upon a barren island, incapable of furnishing even fuel enough to supply our fires. To add to our miseries, as night closed, the rain generally ceased, and severe frosts set in, which, congealing our wet clothes upon our bodies, left little animal warmth to keep the limbs in a state of activity, and the consequence was, that many of the wretched negroes, to whom frost and cold were altogether new, fell fast asleep, and perished before morning.30
Midshipman Bluett also highlighted the terrible fate of the West Indian troops:The weather was severe in the extreme; heavy rains in the day were succeeded by bitter frosts at night, insomuch that the poor unfortunate blacks that we had brought from the West Indies, unaccustomed to the sensation of cold, became wholly incapable of exerting themselves; and therefore were utterly useless and indeed an encumbrance; for they were obliged to have every thing done for them; and notwithstanding every care was taken of them, several died of the cold, so that this part of our force was entirely lost to us; or worse than lost for they stood in the way; and eat provisions that could ill be spared for we were all on two thirds allowance.31
It took days to land all the troops and stores, and the burden fell on the seamen, as Gleig described: ‘On the part of the navy, again, all these hardships were experienced in a four-fold degree. Night and day were boats pulling from the fleet to the island, and from the island to the fleet, for it was the 21st before all the troops were got on shore, and as there was little time to enquire into men’s turns of labour, many seamen were four or five days continually at the oar. Thus, they had not only to bear up against variety of temperature, but against hunger, fatigue, and want of sleep in addition; three as fearful burdens as can be laid upon the human frame.’32
Despite these extreme hardships, Gleig recorded that morale was remarkably high:From the General, down to the youngest drum-boy, a confident anticipation of success seemed to pervade all ranks, and in the hope of an ample reward in store for them, the toils and grievances of the moment were forgotten. Nor was this anticipation the mere offspring of an over-weening confidence in themselves. Several Americans had already deserted, who entertained us with accounts of the alarm experienced at New Orleans. They assured us that there were not at present 5,000 soldiers in the State; that the principal inhabitants had long ago left the place; that such as remained were ready to join us as soon as we should appear among them, and that, therefore, we might lay our account with a speedy and bloodless conquest.33
Doubtless there was a tendency for the deserters to tell their captors what they wanted to hear, but when the British had first arrived the defences of New Orleans were in a poor state and Major-General Jackson was frantically trying to strengthen them. The longer the British were delayed, the more the chances of success slipped away from them. Jackson was daily hoping that reinforcements from Tennessee, Kentucky and nearby Baton Rouge would arrive in New Orleans. On 16 December Jackson declared martial law in the city, and soon after that Jean Lafitte offered his services to Jackson, and they were accepted. Lafitte and his men were particularly valuable as artillery men, and also they brought with them stores of arms and ammunition. Lafitte himself was useful to Jackson because of his detailed knowledge of the terrain.
After the loss of his gunboat flotilla on Lake Borgne, Jackson still had three gunboats, a schooner and a merchant ship that could be converted to a sloop, but he was desperately short of seamen. The local authorities had opposed impressment, but his declaration of martial law overrode their objections, and press-gangs trawled the streets for recruits. By the 17th nearly all the reinforcements had arrived, and more militia forces, including a battalion of Free Men of Color, had been raised locally. Of the latter Theodore Roosevelt, historian as well as politician, would later comment that they ‘had gathered to defend the land which kept the men of their race in slavery; who were to shed their blood for the Flag that symbolized to their kind not freedom but bondage; who were to die bravely as freemen, only that their brethren might live on ignobly as slaves’.34 In just a few days, though, the influx of extra men had dramatically improved the chances of a successful defence of the city.
While Jackson was organising his newly arrived troops, two British officers were reconnoitring the Bayou Bienvenu, a waterway leading from Lake Borgne to within a few miles of the city, where the army could be deployed for an attack. Having found that this route was viable, Cochrane and Keane decided to advance, but it was a hazardous plan as Pea Island was 60 miles from the mouth of the bayou and many of the boats would have to be rowed across Lake Borgne. The advance party spent twenty-six hours in open boats before they set foot on land, having crossed the lake and rowed up the Bayou Bienvenu as far as possible. By the evening of the 22nd about sixteen hundred troops were camped within 8 miles of New Orleans, but after the arduous journey they were exhausted and lacked both artillery and naval support. Worse still, a major of the
American militia called Gabriel Villeré, whose small force had been overwhelmed and captured, managed to escape and raise the alarm. Already the element of surprise was lost.
Jackson reacted immediately and decided to attack the British camp as soon as possible. Gleig related that after sunset on the 23rd a vessel approached that they hoped was bringing reinforcements:About half-past seven o’clock, the attention of several individuals was drawn to a large vessel, which seemed to be stealing up the river till she came
Map of the New Orleans-Mobile area
opposite to our camp, when her anchor was dropped, and her sails leisurely furled. At first we were doubtful whether she might be one of our own cruisers which had passed the port unobserved, and had arrived to render her assistance in our future operations. To satisfy this doubt, she was repeatedly hailed, but returned no answer, when an alarm spreading through the bivouac, all thought of sleep was laid aside. Several musket shots were now fired at her with the design of exacting a reply, of which no notice was taken, till at length having fastened all her sails, and swung her broadside towards us, we could distinctly hear some one cry out in a commanding voice, ‘Give them this for the honour of America.’ The words were instantly followed by the flashes of her guns, and a deadly shower of grape swept down numbers in the camp.35
The British now felt their lack of artillery, as Gleig complained:Against this dreadful fire we had nothing whatever to oppose. The artillery which we had landed was too light to bring into competition with an adversary so powerful, and as she had anchored within a short distance of the opposite bank, no musketry could reach her with any precision or effect. A few rockets were discharged, which made a beautiful appearance in the air, but the rocket is an uncertain weapon, and these deviated too far from their object to produce even terror among those against whom they were directed. Under these circumstances, as nothing could be done offensively, our sole object was to shelter the men as much as possible from this iron hail. With this view, they were commanded to leave the fires and to hasten under the dyke.36
The ship was the schooner Carolina, whose broadside of seven guns was manned by expert gunners supplied by Lafitte, but as well as sending this downstream from the city, Jackson had deployed a force of some two thousand men backed up by field guns, so that the camp was soon under attack from land as well as the river. The first warning came from the sentries firing at the advancing Americans, and Gleig described the bloody combat that followed:The heavens were illuminated on all sides by a semi-circular blaze of musketry. It was now clear that we were surrounded, and that by a very superior force and, therefore, no alternative remaining, but, either to surrender at discretion, or to beat back the assailants. The first of these plans was never for an instant thought of, and the second was immediately put into action. Rushing from under the bank, the 85th and 95th flew to support the piquets, while the 4th, stealing to the rear of the encampment, formed close column, and remained as a reserve. But to describe this action is altogether out of the question, for it was such a battle as the annals of modern warfare can hardly match. All order, all discipline were lost. Each officer, as he was able to collect twenty or thirty men round him, advanced into the middle of the enemy, when it was fought hand to hand, bayonet to bayonet, and sword to sword.37
Gradually the Americans were pushed back, and by daylight the attack had been repulsed. Gleig went to look for Captain Charles Grey, who had gone missing during the fighting: ‘Having searched for some time in vain, I at length discovered my friend lying behind a bundle of reeds, where, during the action, we had separated, and shot through the temples by a rifle bullet so remarkably small, as scarcely to leave any trace of its progress . . . when I beheld him pale and bloody, I found all my resolution evaporate. I threw myself on the ground beside him, and wept like a child.’38
It was now the morning of Christmas Eve, and at six o’clock in the afternoon the British and American negotiators in Ghent signed a peace treaty after many months of wrangling. It would be some time before they found out, but the armies facing each other at New Orleans were technically no longer at war even though the treaty required ratification in America. Just a few hours later, on Christmas morning, Major-General Sir Edward Pakenham, fresh from the successful campaigns in Spain, arrived to take command of the British troops. Because there was a feeling that Major-General Keane might not be equal to the task, Pakenham had been sent out to replace Major-General Ross. According to Gleig, Pakenham ‘now arrived in time to see his troops brought into a situation from which all his abilities could scarcely expect to extricate them. Nor were the troops themselves ignorant of the unfavourable circumstances in which they stood. Hoping every thing therefore, from a change, they greeted their new leader with a hearty cheer.’39
For Gleig, it was not enough to dispel the gloom of the meal he was having with some of his fellow officers: ‘At so melancholy a Christmas dinner I do not recollect at any time to have been present. We dined in a barn; of plates, knives and forks there was a dismal scarcity, nor could our fare boast of much either in intrinsic good quality, or in the way of cooking. These, however, were mere matters of merriment: it was the want of many well known and beloved faces that gave us pain; nor were any other subjects discussed, besides the amiable qualities of those who no longer formed part of our mess, and never would again form part of it.’40 The barn in which they sat was just out of range of the Carolina, which was continuing to bombard the camp, although occasionally spent cannonballs would bounce off the outside of the barn wall.
With most of his force pinned down by the bombardment, Pakenham’s first act was to neutralise this threat, but to do so artillery had to be assembled. Under cover of darkness on the 26th, a battery was constructed on top of the levee63, and a dozen cannons of different sizes were installed there while shot was heated in furnaces. At dawn the next day the battery began to fire red-hot shot at the Carolina, which soon caught fire and within an hour blew up. On Christmas Eve the Carolina had been joined by a converted sloop, the Louisiana, and a couple of gunboats, but these fled after the loss of the larger ship. The way was now clear for the British to advance, although during the delay caused by the bombardment they had nearly been cut off by floods, when careless sentries failed to spot a party of Americans cutting the levee between them and the city. However, the breach was seen in time and soon plugged.
Although essential to allow the army to move forward, bombarding the Carolina had used about a third of the available ammunition, leaving the artillery dangerously short for the coming conflict. Because of the intense cold, very few of the remaining black troops were fit enough to join the advance, though a few helped manoeuvre the guns. Codrington, who had just shifted his quarters from a fisherman’s hut to ‘a double tent (one within the other), as being deemed warmer than the hovel’,41 was so cold that he told his wife he was ‘clothed in two pair of trowsers and two coats, three waistcoats, and so forth’.42 On the 28th Pakenham led a strong armed reconnaissance to probe the American defences, advancing in two columns supported by field guns and rockets. As they approached the American lines they came under flanking fire from the Louisiana and bombardment from the front, which Gleig recalled:That the Americans are excellent shots, as well with artillery as with rifles, we have had frequent cause to acknowledge, but, perhaps, on no occasion did they assert their claim to the title of good artillery-men more effectually than on the present. Scarce a bullet passed over, or fell short of its mark, butall striking full into the midst of our ranks, occasioned terrible havoc. The shrieks of the wounded, therefore, the crash of firelocks, and the fall of such as were killed, caused at first some little confusion, and what added to the panic, was, that from the houses beside which we stood, bright flames suddenly burst out. The Americans expecting this attack, had filled them with combustibles for the purpose, and directing one or two guns against them, loaded with red-hot shot, in an instant set them on fire . . .The infantry, however, was not long suffered to remain thus exposed, b
ut, being ordered to quit the path, and to form line in the fields, the artillery was brought up, and opposed to that of the enemy.43
If he was not exaggerating, Gleig seems to have been in the worst of the action, because the official report afterwards claimed there were fewer than sixty British casualties, but his comments about the accuracy of the
Map of the New Orleans area
American fire rings true. Much of their artillery was manned by Lafitte’s men, at least equal in skill to British naval gunners, and most of the American troops were using rifles and were accustomed to singling out their victims. British troops, armed largely with muskets, still used the tactic of firing together at a target of massed troops - a target that the Americans, behind their defences, seldom presented. As the British held their ground and took cover, Pakenham assessed the strength of the American defences. More field guns were brought up, but by then several guns already deployed had been disabled, their wheels and gun carriages smashed. These were hauled back to the rear for repair by parties of seamen, while the army retreated out of range to wait until heavy guns were brought up from the ships of the fleet.
This was easier said than done, because the cannons had to be rowed all the way across Lake Borgne and up the bayou in small boats, and since the loads were so heavy and the boats so low in the water, sails could not be used for fear of capsizing. The Americans had not considered it even possible to bring anything but light field guns over this route, but in three days ten 18-pounder cannons and four 24-pounder carronades were ferried across and manhandled to the battlefield over land little better than a swamp. By New Year’s Day 1815 everything was ready and the attack began, as Codrington described in a letter home:On the 1st we had our batteries, by severe labour, ready in situations from which the artillery people were, as a matter of course, to destroy and silence the opposing batteries, and give opportunity for a well-arranged storm. But instead of so doing, not a gun of the enemy appeared to suffer, and our firing too high was not made out until we had expended too much of our hardly-collected ammunition to push the matter further. Such a failure in this boasted arm was not to be expected, and I think it a blot in the artillery escutcheon. We have by this allowed the enemy to increase our difficulties and gain spirits, and the harassing job of withdrawing the guns half buried in mud, occasioned by the pouring rain of that night, wore down the whole army as well as the poor Johnnies who had the heaviest part of that severe duty to perform.44
