Sir Edward Packenham, the Commander in Chief of the British land forces, joined General Keane on the twenty-fourth of December with heavy reïnforcements, and an additional supply of artillery. Frequent skirmishes took place between detached parties of the hostile commands, and on the twenty-seventh instant, the schooner Caroline, which had been prevented from ascending the river by a strong norther, was blown up by hot shot thrown from a battery erected by the enemy, on the night of the twenty-sixth. Fortunately, the crew of the vessel had previously made their escape. A similar attempt was made upon the brig Louisiana, but her commander, Lieutenant Thompson, succeeded in getting her up the river, and anchored her on the right of General Jackson’s position.

It was at first designed by the British commander, to commence regular approaches against the formidable line of intrenchments occupied by the American troops. On the twenty-eighth of December, a brisk cannonade was opened from a battery planted near the levee, within half a mile of the river. Showers of Congreve rockets were also thrown, which, although a new implement of warfare,⁠[21] failed to excite either fear or astonishment in the opposing ranks. The firing was kept up for several hours without producing any sensible effect; and the attack was then relinquished. During the night of the thirty-first, heavy batteries were constructed on the plain, directly in front of the American position; and the advent of the new year was welcomed by a tremendous burst of artillery, accompanied by incessant flights of rockets, which was continued till three o’clock in the afternoon, when the batteries were effectually silenced by the American guns. The casualties on these two occasions were,—on the side of the Americans, eighteen killed and thirty-one wounded; and, on the side of the enemy, forty-eight killed, and eighty-two wounded.

These repeated efforts having proved of no avail, General Packenham decided to carry the works by a coup de main. For a number of days all his men were employed in deepening Villeré’s canal, for the passage of the boats, by which a detachment could be thrown across the river to attack the fortifications on the right bank. On the sixth instant, General Lambert joined the main body of the enemy, already on shore, with his division; and the whole command was thus increased to upwards of twelve thousand men. Everything being in readiness for the contemplated assault, on the evening of the seventh instant, it was directed to take place at dawn of day on the following morning.

Meanwhile General Jackson had been actively employed in completing his preparations. Near the river, and in advance of the cotton embankment, he commenced the construction of a redoubt, with embrasures, calculated to rake the ditch in front of the intrenchments, and the road down the levee; but this was still incomplete on the eighth of January. The line Dupré, about two miles in rear of the main line, to which he designed to retreat and make a second stand, if he should be compelled to retire, was also strengthened as far as practicable. Various devices were employed to mislead the enemy in regard to his position, and the strength of his command, which was daily rendered more necessary, on account of the increasing disaffection in the city. The number of his men was represented to be greater than it was; their deficiency in arms was carefully concealed; and no intercourse was allowed between the lines and the city, except through officers in whom he had the most implicit confidence.

In spite of all his precautions, the enemy were informed by their agents of every movement that took place, and the disaffection which they eagerly fomented, ultimately increased to such an extent, that it was seriously proposed that terms of surrender should be offered by the legislature. On being apprised of this treasonable design, General Jackson directed Governor Claiborne, whenever such a proposition was made, to close the doors of the state-house. The order was misunderstood by the governor, who closed the doors forthwith, and the members of the legislature were thus prevented from assembling. The commanding general did not design to interrupt their ordinary deliberations, but it was probably fortunate for the safety of the city, that they were not allowed to convene.

On the fourth of January, the anxiously-expected reïnforcements from Kentucky, under Generals Thomas and Adair, twenty-five hundred strong, reached New Orleans. They were poorly furnished with arms, however, and, like most of the other troops, were nearly destitute of clothing. The city was ransacked in search of weapons, but a scanty supply could be obtained; and the other deficiency was partially remedied, by the patriotic exertions of Mr. Girod, the mayor, and the ladies of New Orleans.

General Jackson now made a final disposition of his troops. Governor Claiborne was posted on the Gentilly road, with a portion of the Louisiana militia; another portion, under General Morgan, was stationed on the right bank of the river, and the battery on that shore was manned by the sailors and marines under Commodore Patterson. General Morgan was further reïnforced, on the night of the seventh of January, when it was ascertained that the enemy were opening a passage into the river, by a detachment of the Kentucky troops. On the left bank, General Jackson was posted with his main column, consisting of about thirty-five hundred men. There were eight distinct batteries along the line, mounting, in all, twelve guns and two howitzers. On the right, were the 7th and 44th infantry, between which were the battalions of Majors Plauche, Lacoste, and Daquin; in the centre was General Carroll’s command, supported by that of General Adair; and, on the extreme left, were the Tennessee rifles under General Coffee. The remainder of the Kentucky troops, under General Thomas, remained in the rear.

The brave troops whom General Jackson had gathered around him calmly awaited the approach of the enemy, behind the breastwork of cotton bags which their sagacious commander had provided, not as a shelter for cowardice, but as a protection against the onset of a superior force. Night after night they slept upon their arms; the soldiers of Coffee lying far out in the swamp, on heaps of logs and brush, half benumbed with the cold, and covered with the moist ooze of the morass; yet all indifferent to the inclemency of the weather, to hardship and suffering, and anxious only to win new laurels for the general whom they loved and honored.

The wintry dawn was just breaking, and the cold silvery sheen of the early morning was rapidly spreading over the plains of Chalmette, on the memorable eighth of January, 1815, when the dark masses of the British assaulting columns were discerned from the American lines, as they emerged from the thick veil of mist which intercepted the view of their encampment, and rapidly pressed forward to the storm. At the same time, their batteries, planted on the previous night, within eight hundred yards of the intrenchments, commenced an active fire, which soon deepened into a continuous roar, that shook the whole valley, and started the inhabitants of the city from their slumbers.

Simultaneously with the movement on the left bank of the river, Colonel Thornton crossed the stream with five hundred picked men, ascended the levee, and, by a sudden charge, turned the position, and made himself master of the battery, which formed the strong point of the line. General Morgan was at the head of a much superior force, but finding himself unable to maintain his ground, he fell back towards the city, followed slowly by the British troops.

Upon the other shore, the most desperate and unflinching valor failed to achieve the least substantial success. The main attack, on this bank of the river, was made in two columns, sixty or seventy deep; that on the right, between eight and nine thousand strong, led by General Gibbs, moving upon the centre of Jackson’s position; and the left, about twelve hundred in number, under General Keane, advancing along the levee road. The British troops moved forward slowly and steadily, many of them carrying scaling ladders and fascines. “Beauty and booty” was the watchword which inspired their zeal, and quickened their steps.⁠[22] A great number of them had served in the Spanish Peninsula; and it is not to be wondered that this appeal to the unholy passions that were suffered to riot unchecked at the storming of St. Sebastian, produced its legitimate effect.

Three hearty cheers rose from the American lines, when the enemy came within range. Every piece was instantly put in requisition. A well-sustained rolling fire welcomed the assailants as they approached. Still, the regularity of their array was unbroken. Torrents of grape and round shot, hissing hot, swept through the solid columns, rending them asunder like ropes of sand. Yet they pressed on undaunted, through the driving storm of missiles poured upon them from the different batteries, whose converging fires smote them more and more heavily at every step of their advance, and strewed the plain with the dying and the dead.

Meantime the American infantry and riflemen had remained at their posts, with their hands clenched about the locks of their pieces, attentively watching the movements of the enemy. General Jackson himself occasionally rode along the lines, to cheer and animate his men. It was, indeed, a critical period for his own fame, for the martial reputation of his country. His chivalric courage, his proud and lofty self-reliance, rose with the emergency. His eagle eye blazed with an almost unearthly light, and the shrill notes of his trumpet voice rang high above the roar of battle.

Making their way through the heaps of their comrades, who lay weltering in their gore, pale, distorted, and stiffening in death, the British soldiers advanced within reach of the American rifle and musket. In an instant, a vivid stream of fire rolled down from the whole line of intrenchments. The way was now blocked by a glistening wall of flame. The bravest shrank back aghast. Stout-hearted men, who had never faltered amid the sea of carnage whose crimson waves dyed the ramparts of Badajoz, trembled like the aspen. The American fire was never for a moment interrupted,—the western riflemen making their mark at every discharge, and the men in the rear constantly loading and exchanging pieces with their companions in front. At the head of the glacis, the right column of the assailants staggered and halted. Generals Pakenham and Gibbs dashed forward, eager to retrieve the fortunes of the day ere all was lost. In vain was every effort to turn the tide of battle. Both officers fell mortally wounded, while hundreds were swept down around them, as the grass before the mower. Some few pressed on,—on and on,—to sure destruction!

On the left, the advance of General Keane’s column, led by Colonel Rennie, gained the redoubt in front of the line of intrenchments; but it was only to find a soldier’s grave. A murderous fire was at once directed upon them from the main fortification, and every man who had entered the work, including the gallant officer who headed the attack, was cut down. General Keane made an ineffectual effort to rally the troops for another onset, and was borne from the field severely wounded. The command now devolved on General Lambert, who promptly led up the reserve; but on discovering the dreadful havoc which had been made in the shattered and terrified column before him, he gave the signal to retire.

At mid-day the battle was ended; the bright sun looked down on that red waste, everywhere marred by the ploughing shot, and dotted all over with huge piles of festering corruption; and the cool breeze that murmured among the acacia and orange groves, was loaded with scents of slaughter, with the steam of the battle-field. The appalling fire from the American lines was most terrible in its effects. The British lost two hundred and ninety-three killed, twelve hundred and sixty-seven wounded, and there were four hundred and eighty-four taken prisoners. The American loss was trifling in comparison; there were but thirteen killed, thirty-nine wounded, and nineteen missing, on both sides of the river, during the day.⁠[23]⁠

General Lambert determined, on the day after this bloody repulse, not to prosecute further the hopeless enterprise. The detachment thrown across the river was recalled, and preparations commenced for the reëmbarkation. The ditches and field in front of the American line, were cleared of the débris of the assaulting army, and a warm cannonade was kept up by the artillery for several days; but, on the night of the eighteenth of January, the enemy evacuated all their positions, and retreated to their shipping. Eight of their heavy guns were abandoned, and eighty of their wounded were left to the humanity of General Jackson, a duty which, in the language of a not too partial historian, he discharged “with a zeal and attention worthy of the ability and gallantry he had displayed in the action.”⁠[24] About the same time, the British fleet, which had ascended the Mississippi, and bombarded Fort St. Philip, unsuccessfully, for about eight days, from the eleventh to the nineteenth of January, retired down the river. Having taken the land forces on board, the squadron proceeded to Mobile bay and invested Fort Bowyer, which surrendered after a short resistance. This proved a barren victory, however, as a treaty of peace had been concluded in December previous, which was officially proclaimed on the eighteenth of February.

All immediate danger having vanished, General Jackson, and his victorious troops, entered the city of New Orleans in triumph, on the twentieth day of January. Fêtes and rejoicings now took the place of the consternation and alarm which had prevailed. The hero of Chalmette was “the observed of all observers,” and no festive occasion could be complete without his presence. A procession was formed to the cathedral, in the midst of which walked the gallant conqueror, ladies dressed in white strewing his path with flowers. Te Deum was chanted, and a solemn thanksgiving offered to Divine Providence.

Treason and disaffection still lingered in the city; and anonymous articles appeared in one of the public journals, designed to excite mutiny and sedition among the American troops. These were traced to one Louailler, a member of the state legislature, whom General Jackson instantly ordered to be arrested. A writ of habeas corpus was shortly after issued by Judge Hall, the district judge, for the purpose of procuring the release of the prisoner. The order proclaiming martial law was still in force, and the judge was promptly ordered into confinement. Two days later, intelligence was received of the conclusion of the treaty of peace. On being restored to his authority, Judge Hall summoned General Jackson before him. The latter readily obeyed the summons, and appeared with his counsel. The judge, whose only title to immortality is this one act of injustice, refused to hear either reason or argument, and, to satisfy his offended dignity, imposed a fine of one thousand dollars on the general, for disregarding the writ of habeas corpus. A spontaneous burst of indignation at once rose from the spectators, but General Jackson magnanimously interposed to shield the trembling judge from outrage. The fine was paid, and when he left the court room the multitude followed him in crowds. In a few moments, he was waited on by a committee of ladies, who had already raised the amount of the fine among the citizens of New Orleans, and now entreated him to accept it. He refused to take the money, and, at his suggestion, it was distributed among the widows and orphans of those who had fallen in defence of the city. After the lapse of many years, at the session of Congress in the winter of 1843–4, tardy, though merited justice, was done to General Jackson, by the passage of a bill directing the amount of the fine to be refunded to him, with interest.

General Jackson remained in command at New Orleans, until the month of March, when he was relieved by General Gaines. He immediately retired to the tranquillity of the Hermitage, though compelled to witness, everywhere on his homeward route, the evidences of the respect and gratitude which thrilled the hearts of his countrymen. The war with the Seminole Indians on the southern frontiers of Georgia again called him from his retirement, in the winter of 1818.⁠[25] Shortly after the breaking out of hostilities, he was ordered to assume the command of the forces operating in that quarter. On the ninth of March, 1818. he joined General Gaines at Fort Scott, with nine hundred Georgia militia. Early in April, he was reïnforced by one thousand volunteers from West Tennessee, and fifteen hundred friendly Creek warriors, under their chief, McIntosh.

General Jackson now found himself at the head of four thousand five hundred men, with whom he marched to the Indian town of Mickasauky, which he laid waste. The hostile savages fled into Florida, whither he followed them, and took refuge in the neighborhood of St. Marks, the Spanish authorities of which endeavored to protect and shelter them. Accordingly, the American commander took possession of the town, and sent the garrison to Pensacola. On the sixteenth of April, he destroyed the Suwanee villages, and then returned to St. Marks, where two of the principal instigators of the Indian outrages, whom he had captured, a Scotchman and an Englishman, whose names were Arbuthnot and Ambrister, were tried by a court martial, sentenced to death, and executed. Not long after, intelligence was received that the governor of West Florida, at Pensacola, in violation of the treaty with Spain, was affording countenance and protection to the fugitive Seminoles. General Jackson proceeded thither without delay, seized Pensacola, on the twenty-fourth of May, and on the twenty-seventh Fort Barrancas surrendered to his authority. St. Augustine was also captured by a detachment under General Gaines. The seizure and occupation, by the American troops, of these places of refuge for the hostile Indians put an end to the outbreak, and in the month of June, General Jackson, whose health had become seriously impaired by the unfriendliness of the climate, returned home, and subsequently resigned his commission.

The Spanish posts in Florida seized by General Jackson were afterwards ordered to be restored, but his conduct was approved by President Monroe, and a resolution of censure, offered in the House of Representatives, was voted down by a large majority. Any difficulty with Spain that might have grown out of his proceedings was obviated, by the cession of Florida to the United States, in the winter of 1819. General Jackson was very appropriately selected by the American Executive, as the commissioner to receive the territory, and on the first of July, 1821, he issued a proclamation at Pensacola, officially announcing its annexation to the United States. His administration of the executive affairs of the new territory, owing to the bad state of his health, was quite brief; during it, however, he came in collision with the Spanish ex-governor, in an effort, which proved successful, to protect the rights of several orphan females. His firm and unyielding will, and his determined purpose, were never exhibited in a more characteristic, or more creditable manner. His health continuing to grow worse, he transferred the authority with which he had been clothed, to his secretaries, on the seventh of October, 1821, and immediately set out for Nashville.

The gallant soldier was not forgotten. In August, 1822, he was nominated for the presidency as the successor of Mr. Monroe, by the legislature of Tennessee. In 1823 he declined the appointment of minister to Mexico, tendered to him by the President, and, in the same year, he was elected to the Senate of the United States. On becoming a prominent candidate for the presidential office, he resigned his seat. At the election in 1824, he received a plurality of the electoral votes, but as there was no choice by the colleges, the question was referred to the House of Representatives, by whom his principal competitor, John Quincy Adams, was elected to the office. In 1828, he was again a candidate, and received one hundred and seventy-eight of the two hundred and sixty-one electoral votes. In 1832 he was elected for a second term, by a still larger majority.

It is not within the scope of this work, to notice in detail the political services of General Jackson. A brief recapitulation of some of the most important acts of his administration must suffice. On the twentieth of May, 1830, he vetoed the Maysville road bill, and on the tenth of July, 1832, the bill to recharter the United States Bank. On the sixteenth of January, 1833, his celebrated nullification message, recapitulating the facts, and many of the arguments, contained in his proclamation of December previous, was issued. In October, 1833, the public deposits were removed from the United States Bank. On the fifteenth of April, 1834, he protested against the resolutions of censure adopted by the Senate, which were afterwards, in January, 1837, expunged from their journal; and on the fifteenth of January, 1835, his warlike, but patriotic message, in regard to the refusal of the French government to pay the stipulated indemnity, made its appearance.

His long public career finally terminated on the third of March, 1837, when he issued a farewell address to the people of the United States, and retired forever from the harassing cares and responsibilities of an official position, to the peaceful shades of his own quiet Hermitage. The wife whom he had so ardently loved, no longer lived to bless him with her affection, and cheer him with her smiles;—she had been taken from his side, by death, in December, 1828,—yet her memory was ever a sweet solace throughout the closing hours of his earthly pilgrimage.

General Jackson had gained a world-wide reputation by the bravery and skill displayed in his Indian campaigns, and in the war with Great Britain. Lafayette was a guest at the Hermitage, on his visit to this country in 1825, and, twenty years later, the portrait of the general was painted, when almost in a dying condition, to adorn the gallery of Louis Philippe, the King of the French. He was known and honored by the great and good in every land. Whatever may be said of the domestic policy of his administration, in his intercourse with foreign nations he inspired or enforced respect, and few, perhaps none, of our presidents, Washington alone excepted, ever commanded greater consideration abroad.

A peaceful close was vouchsafed to the stormy and eventful life, the prominent incidents of which have been briefly portrayed in this sketch. The Imperial prisoner of St. Helena died amid a raging storm, shouting, in imagination, to his marshalled legions, while the winds howled and shrieked above his head; the words, Tête d’armée! were the last to leave his lips, as his eye glazed in death, and his frame was convulsed with the last agony. At the close of a Sabbath afternoon, in the bright summer time, when Nature had spread her richest garniture over her wide domains, and grove and forest were vocal with sweetest melody; in the presence of his family and friends; by his own fireside; on the eighth of June, 1845; Andrew Jackson calmly yielded up his spirit. For weeks and months he had suffered under a painful disease, yet not a murmur escaped him. His heart was stayed on a noble hope—a hope sure, steadfast, and unfading—the priceless hope of the Christian!

In person General Jackson was tall and thin. His frame was well knit, but gaunt. He had an iron visage, and a commanding look. His eyes were a deep blue, bright and penetrating. He was frank and easy in his manners, courteous and affable in his address.

His character was decidedly pronounced. It was full of salient points, remarkable for their strength, and the fitness and harmony of their combination. He was kind and affectionate, benevolent and humane; pure and earnest of purpose; inflexibly honest; physically and morally brave; ardent and sincere in his patriotism; direct in his professions; and resolute and unflinching in determination. He possessed a firm will, was clear in judgment, and rapid in his decisions. His temperament was restless, though not mercurial. He had an abundance of what the French call fortes emotions. His passions were intense, and what he did, he did with all his might. Like Cicero, he was a new man; and, by his own unaided exertions, raised himself from comparative obscurity, to the highest distinction. He was a good hater, but he never forgot his friends; and there are many who still prize his friendship, bestowed while in life, as a favor from heaven.⁠[26]⁠

All these traits and characteristics were strikingly exhibited, both in his civil, and military career. His style as a writer partook of his mental peculiarities; it was rugged and uneven as the mountain torrent; yet it had a nervous eloquence, that never failed to produce a deep impression, and indicated a powerful grasp of thought. As a soldier, he was fruitful in expedients; he had the genius, perseverance and skill, of Hannibal,—the indomitable will and energy, without the selfishness, of Napoleon. He was persevering, cool, and intrepid,—hardy in endurance, and gifted with rare courage. In a word, as the historian remarks of the French soldier of fortune,—“He was not a great man because he was a great general: he was a great general because he was a great man”!⁠[27]⁠