Produced by Geoffrey Cowling




The Campaigns of the British Army at Washington and New Orleans,
1814-1815

by Rev. G. R. Gleig, M.A.,

Chaplain-General to the forces;
Author of _The Subaltern_; _Story of the Battle of Waterloo_;
_Life of Lord Clive_; _Life of Sir Thomas Munro_, etc.

NEW EDITION
1879




ADVERTISEMENT.


The following Narrative contains, it is believed, the only connected
and authentic account, which has yet been given, of the expedition
directed against Washington and New Orleans, towards the close of the
late American war. It has been compiled, not from memory alone, but
from a journal kept by the author whilst engaged in the enterprise; and
as the adventures of each were faithfully noted down as they occurred,
and such remarks made upon passing events as suggested themselves to
his mind at the moment, the public may rely with confidence upon
general correctness of the details. The issues of the expedition were
not, indeed, of the most gratifying nature, but it is hoped that a
plain relation of the proceedings of those to whom it was intrusted,
will not, on that account, prove uninteresting; whilst nothing can be
more evident than that the portion of our history which it embraces
ought not to be overlooked because it is little conducive to the
encouragement of national vanity. It was chiefly, indeed, upon this
account, as well as with a view to redeem from an oblivion which they
hardly merit, the actions and sufferings of a few brave men, that the
Narrative now submitted to the public was written.

Contents

CHAPTER I.
Cessation of Hostilities—Expected Embarkation for America—Encampment
near Passages—March towards Bordeaux-Anglet

CHAPTER II.
Bayonne—St. Etienne—March through Bayonne, to Ondres

CHAPTER III.
Les Landes—March to Bordeaux—Bordeaux—Macan—La Moe—At Sea

CHAPTER IV.
At Sea—St. Michael’s—Villa Franca

CHAPTER V.
St Michael’s—Ponto del Gada—At Sea

CHAPTER VI.
Bermuda

CHAPTER VII.
America—The Chesapeake—The Partuxent—St. Benedicts

CHAPTER VIII.
Nottingham—Marlborough

CHAPTER IX.
March to Washington—Bladensburg

CHAPTER X.
Washington

CHAPTER XI.
Washington—Bladensburg—Marlborough—St Benedicts

CHAPTER XII.
Alexandria—The Patuxent—The Patapsco

CHAPTER XIII.
March—Attack—Halt

CHAPTER XIV.
March—Halt—Search—March—Rally—Halt

CHAPTER XV.
The Patuxent—The Potomac—The Chesapeake—At Sea—The West Indies

CHAPTER XVI.
The West Indies—Port Royal—Kingston—Jamaica—The Blue Mountains

CHAPTER XVII.
The Blue Mountains—Port Royal—Negril Bay

CHAPTER XVIII.
At Sea—New Orleans—Lake Borgne—Pine Island

CHAPTER XIX.
Pine Island—The Lake—Landing—March—Halt

CHAPTER XX.
Halt—Attack—Field of Battle—Hospital

CHAPTER XXI.
Advance—Attack—March—Attack—Retreat—Preparations

CHAPTER XXII.
Attack—Retreat—Pause—Attack—Re-embarkation

CHAPTER XXIII.
The Camp—Preparations for Retreat—Retreat—Halt

CHAPTER XXIV.
The Lake—Mobile—Siege—Peace—Havannah

CHAPTER XXV.
Havannah—Remarks




THE BRITISH ARMY
AT
WASHINGTON AND NEW ORLEANS.




CHAPTER I.


A revolution must occur in the condition and sentiments of mankind more
decided than we have any reason to expect that the lapse of ages will
produce, before the mighty events which distinguished the spring of
1814 shall be spoken of in other terms than those of unqualified
admiration. It was then that Europe, which during so many years had
groaned beneath the miseries of war, found herself at once, and to her
remotest recesses, blessed with the prospect of a sure and permanent
peace. Princes, who had dwelt in exile till the very hope of
restoration to power began to depart from them, beheld themselves
unexpectedly replaced on the thrones of their ancestors; dynasties,
which the will of one man had erected, disappeared with the same
abruptness with which they had arisen; and the influence of changes
which a quarter of a century of rapine and conquest had produced in the
arrangements of general society, ceased, as if by magic, to be felt, or
at least to be acknowledged. It seemed, indeed, as if all which had
been passing during the last twenty or thirty years, had passed not in
reality, but in a dream; so perfectly unlooked for were the issues of a
struggle, to which, whatever light we may regard it, the history of the
whole world presents no parallel.

At the period above alluded to, it was the writer’s fortune to form one
of a body of persons in whom the unexpected cessation of hostilities
may be supposed to have excited sensations more powerful and more mixed
than those to which the common occurrences of life are accustomed to
give birth. He was then attached to that portion of the Peninsular army
to which the siege of Bayonne had been intrusted; and on the 28th of
April beheld, in common with his comrades, the tri-coloured flag,
which, for upwards of two months, had waved defiance from the
battlements, give place to the ancient drapeau blanc of the Bourbons.
That such a spectacle could be regarded by any British soldier without
stirring up in him strong feelings of national pride and exultation, is
not to be imagined. I believe, indeed, that there was not a man in our
ranks, however humble his station, to whose bosom these feelings were a
stranger. But the excitation of the moment having passed away, other
and no less powerful feelings succeeded; and they were painful, or the
reverse, according as they ran in one or other of the channels into
which the situations and prospects of individuals not unnaturally
guided them. By such as had been long absent from their homes, the idea
of enjoying once more the society of friends and relatives, was hailed
with a degree of delight too engrossing to afford room for the
occurrence of any other anticipations; to those who had either no homes
to look to, or had quitted them only a short time ago, the thoughts of
revisiting England came mixed with other thoughts, little gratifying,
because at variance with all their dreams of advancement and renown.
For my own part I candidly confess, that though I had just cause to
look forward to a return to the bosom of my family with as much
satisfaction as most men, the restoration of peace excited in me
sensations of a very equivocal nature. At the age of eighteen, and
still enthusiastically attached to my profession, neither the prospect
of a reduction to half-pay, nor the expectation of a long continuance
in a subaltern situation, were to me productive of any pleasurable
emotions; and hence, though I entered heartily into all the
arrangements by which those about me strove to evince their
gratification at the glorious termination of the war, it must be
acknowledged that I did so, without experiencing much of the
satisfaction with the semblance of which my outward behaviour might be
marked.

EXPECTED EMBARKATION FOR AMERICA.

Such being my own feelings, and the feelings of the great majority of
those immediately around me, it was but natural that we should turn our
views to the only remaining quarter of the globe in which the flame of
war still continued to burn. Though at peace with France, England, we
remembered; was not yet at peace with the United States; and reasoning,
not as statesmen but as soldiers, we concluded that she was not now
likely to make peace with that nation till she should be able to do so
upon her own terms. Having such an army on foot, what line of policy
could appear so natural or so judicious as that she should employ, if
not the whole, at all events a large proportion of it, in chastising an
enemy, than whom none had ever proved more vindictive or more
ungenerous? Our view of the matter accordingly was, that some fifteen
or twenty thousand men would be forthwith embarked on board of ship and
transported to the other side of the Atlantic; that the war would there
be carried on with a vigour conformable to the dignity and resources of
the country which waged it; and that no mention of peace would be made
till our general should be in a situation to dictate its conditions in
the enemy’s capital.

Whether any design of the kind was ever seriously entertained, or
whether men merely asserted as a truth what they earnestly desired to
be such, I know not; but the white flag had hardly been hoisted on the
citadel of Bayonne, when a rumour became prevalent that an extensive
encampment of troops, destined for the American war, was actually
forming in the vicinity of Bordeaux. A variety of causes led me to
anticipate that the corps to which I was attached would certainly be
employed upon that service. In the progress of the war which had been
just brought to a conclusion, we had not suffered so severely as many
other corps; and though not excelling in numbers, it is but justice to
affirm that a more effective or better organized battalion could not be
found in the whole army. We were all, moreover, from our commanding
officer down to the youngest ensign, anxious to gather a few more
laurels, even in America; and we had good reason to believe that those
in power were not indisposed to gratify our inclinations. Under these
circumstances we clung with fondness to the hope that our martial
career had not yet come to a close; and employed the space which
intervened between the eventful 28th of April and the 8th of the
following month, chiefly in forming guesses as to the point of attack
towards which it was likely that we should be turned.

ENCAMPMENT NEAR PASSAGES.

Though there was peace between the French and British nations, the form
of hostilities was so far kept up between the garrison of Bayonne and
the army encamped around it, that it was only by an especial treaty
that the former were allowed to send out parties for the purpose of
collecting forage and provisions from the adjacent country. The
foraging parties, however, being permitted to proceed in any direction
most convenient to themselves, the supplies of corn and grass, which
had heretofore proved barely sufficient for our own horses and cattle,
soon began to fail, and it was found necessary to move more than one
brigade to a distance from the city. Among others, the brigade of which
my regiment formed a part, received orders on the 7th of May to fall
back on the road towards Passages. These orders we obeyed on the
following morning; and after an agreeable march of fifteen or sixteen
miles, pitched our tents in a thick wood, about half-way between the
village of Bedart and the town of St. Jean de Luz. In this position we
remained for nearly a week, our expectations of employment on the other
side of the Atlantic becoming daily less and less sanguine, till at
length all doubts on the subject were put an end to by the sudden
arrival of a dispatch, which commanded us to set out with as little
delay as possible towards Bordeaux.

It was on the evening of the 14th that the route was received, and on
the following morning, at daybreak, we commenced our march. The country
through which we moved had nothing in it, unconnected with past events,
calculated in any extraordinary degree to attract attention. Behind us,
indeed, rose the Pyrenees in all their grandeur, forming, on that side,
a noble boundary to the prospect; and on our left was the sea, a
boundary different it is true in kind, though certainly not less
magnificent. But, excepting at these two extremities, there was nothing
in the landscape on which the eye loved particularly to rest, because
the country, though pretty enough, has none of that exquisite richness
and luxuriance which we had been led to expect as characteristic of the
South of France. The houses, too, being all in a ruinous and
dilapidated condition, reminded us more forcibly of the scenes of
violence and outrage which had been lately acted among them, than of
those ideas of rural contentment and innocence which various tales and
melodramas had taught us to associate in our own minds with thoughts of
the land of the vine.

MARCH TOWARDS BORDEAUX

Regarded, however, in connexion with past events, the scene was indeed
most interesting; though to a stranger fresh from England—a man, we
will suppose, of retired and peaceful habits, I can readily imagine
that it would have been productive of much pain; for on each side of
the road, in whatever direction we cast our eyes, and as far as the
powers of vision extended, we beheld cottages unroofed and in ruins,
chateaux stripped of their doors and windows, gardens laid waste, the
walls demolished, and the fruit-trees cut down; whole plantations
levelled, and vineyards trodden under foot. Here and there, likewise, a
redoubt or breastwork presented itself; whilst caps, broken firelocks,
pieces of clothing, and accoutrements scattered about in profusion,
marked the spots where the strife had been most determined, and where
many a fine fellow had met his fate. Our journey lay over a field of
battle, through the entire extent of which the houses were not only
thoroughly gutted (to use a vulgar but most expressive phrase), but for
the most part were riddled with cannon-shot. Round some of the largest,
indeed, there was not a wall nor a tree which did not present evident
proofs of its having been converted into a temporary place of defence,
whilst the deep ruts in what had once been lawns and flower-gardens,
showed that all their beauty had not protected them from being
destroyed by the rude passage of heavy artillery.

Immediately beyond the village of Bedart such spectacles were
particularly frequent. It was here, it may be remembered, that in the
preceding month of December there had been fighting for four successive
days; and the number of little hillocks now within our view; from under
most of which legs and arms were beginning to show themselves, as well
as the other objects which I have attempted to describe, sufficiently
attested the obstinacy with which that fighting had been maintained.

In the bosom of a man of peace it is very conceivable that all this
would have excited feelings exceedingly painful; in ours, such feelings
were overborne by others of a very different nature. If we gazed with
peculiar interest upon one hovel more than upon another, it was because
some of us had there maintained ourselves; if we endeavoured to count
the number of shot-holes in any wall, or the breaks in any hedge, it
was because we had stood behind it when “the iron hail” fell thick and
fast around us. Our thoughts, in short, had more of exultation in them
than of sorrow; for though now and then, when the name of a fallen
comrade was mentioned, it was accompanied with a “poor fellow” the
conversation soon returned again to the exploits and hair-breadth
escapes of the survivors. On the whole, therefore, our march was one of
deep interest and high excitement, feelings which did not entirely
evaporate when we halted, about two hours after noon, at the village of
Anglet.

MARCH TOWARDS BORDEAUX—ANGLET

We found this village in the condition in which it was to be expected
that a place of so much importance during the progress of the late
siege would be found, in other words, completely metamorphosed into a
chain of petty posts. Being distant from the outworks of Bayonne not
more than a mile and a half, and standing upon the great road by which
all the supplies for the left of the British army were brought up, no
means, as may be supposed, had been neglected, which art or nature
could supply, towards rendering it as secure against a sudden excursion
of the garrison as might be. About one hundred yards in front of it
felled trees were laid across the road, with their branches turned
towards the town, forming what soldiers, in the language of their
profession, term an abattis. Forty or fifty yards in rear of this a
ditch was dug, and a breastwork thrown up, from behind which a party
might do great execution upon any body of men struggling to force their
way over that impediment. On each side of the highway again, where the
ground rises into little eminences, redoubts and batteries were
erected, so as to command the whole with a heavy flanking fire; while
every house and hovel lying at all within the line of expected
operations was loop-holed, and otherwise put in a posture of defence.
But upon the fortification of the church a more than ordinary degree of
care seemed to have been bestowed. As it stood upon a little eminence
in the middle of the hamlet, it was no hard matter to convert it into a
tolerably regular fortress, which might serve the double purpose of a
magazine for warlike stores and a post of defence against the enemy.
With this view the churchyard was surrounded by a row of stout palings,
called in military phraseology stockades, from certain openings in
which the muzzles of half a dozen pieces of light artillery protruded.
The walls of the edifice itself were, moreover, strengthened by an
embankment of earth to the height of perhaps four or five feet from the
ground, above which narrow openings were made, in order to give to its
garrison an opportunity of levelling their muskets; while on the top of
the tower a small howitzer was mounted, from which either shot or shell
could be thrown with effect into any of the lanes or passes near. It is
probably needless to add that the interior arrangements of this house
of God had undergone a change as striking as that which affected its
exterior. Barrels of gunpowder, with piles of balls of all sizes and
dimensions, now occupied the spaces where worshippers had often
crowded; and the very altar was heaped up with spunges, wadding, and
other implements necessary in case of an attack.

I have been thus minute in my description of Anglet, because what has
been said of it will apply more or less exactly to every village,
hamlet, or cluster of cottages, within the compass of what were called
the lines. It is true that neither here nor elsewhere, excepting at one
particular point, and that on the opposite side of the river, were any
serious intentions entertained of broaching or storming the place; and
that the sole object of these preparations was to keep the enemy within
his works, and to cut him off from all communication with the
surrounding country. But to effect even this end, the utmost vigilance
and precaution were necessary, not only because the number of troops
employed on the service was hardly adequate to discharge it, but
because the garrison hemmed in was well known to be at once numerous
and enterprising. The reader may accordingly judge what appearance a
country presented which, to the extent of fifteen or twenty miles
round, was thus treated; where every house was fortified, every road
blocked up, every eminence mined with fieldworks, and every place
swarming with armed men. Nor was its aspect less striking by night than
by day. Gaze where he might, the eye of the spectator then rested upon
some portion of one huge circle of fires, by the glare of which the
white tents or rudely constructed huts of the besiegers were from time
to time made visible.

While things continued thus, the condition of the peaceful inhabitant
of this district could hardly fail to be one of extreme discomfort. Of
these the greater number had indeed fled on the advance of the British
army, leaving their houses and effects a prey to the conquerors; but
there were some who, having probably no place of refuge to retire to,
remained in their homes, and threw themselves upon our mercy for
protection. It is not requisite that I should now inform the reader of
the strict discipline which Lord Wellington preserved in every division
of his army; his first step, on entering France, had been to inform the
people that against them no violence was intended; and the assurance
thus given, was in no instance, at least wantonly, violated. But,
however orderly the conduct of an invading force may be, their very
presence must occasion a thousand inconveniences to those upon whom
they are quartered; not the least distressing of which is, perhaps, the
feeling of degradation which the consciousness of being in the power of
armed foreigners can hardly fail to produce. Then there is the total
destruction of all domestic comfort, which the occupation of a man’s
house by large bodies of soldiers produces; the liability to which the
females, in particular, are exposed to insult from the common troopers;
and the dread of vengeance from any delinquent on whom their complaints
may have brought down chastisement, all these things must and do create
a degree of misery, of which the inhabitants of Great Britain may thank
God that they know nothing except by name. In the vicinity of Bayonne,
moreover, the country people lived in daily and nightly expectation of
finding themselves involved in all the horrors and dangers of a battle.
Sorties were continually looked for, and however these might terminate,
the non-combatants felt that they must be equally the sufferers. Nay,
it was no uncommon ground of complaint among them, that even the total
defeat of our forces would bring with it no relief, because, by
remaining to receive us, they had disobeyed the proclamations of
Marshal Soult, and were consequently liable to punishment as traitors.




CHAPTER II.


A soon as the bustle of encamping was over, and my time absolutely at
my own disposal, I took advantage of an offered passport, and proceeded
into Bayonne. It will be readily believed that I entered this city with
feelings very different from those of a common traveller. Having lain
before it as a besieger for upwards of two months, its shops, its
trade, its public buildings and places of amusement were to me objects
of, comparatively speaking, little interest or curiosity. Its
fortifications and means of defence were, in truth, what I was
principally anxious to examine. Hitherto I could judge of them only
from outward appearances and vague reports; and now that an opportunity
offered of so doing with greater accuracy, I confess that my
inclination prompted me to embrace that opportunity, rather than to
hunt for pictures which I could not value, or fatigue my imagination by
endeavouring to discover fine specimens of architecture amidst heavy
and ill-built churches.

It is not my intention to attempt any scientific or technical review of
the works which a very natural curiosity tempted me to examine; partly
because I confess myself little competent to the task and partly
because, were the contrary the case, I am inclined to believe that such
a review would not prove very interesting to the public in general.
Enough is done if I endeavour to impress my reader with as many of the
feelings which I then experienced, as may be done by detailing them;
and, at the same time, enable him to form some general idea of a place
before whose walls no trifling quantity of British blood has been
spilt.

The city of Bayonne stands, as everybody knows, upon the Adour, about
six or eight miles from the point where that river falls into the sea.
On the southern or Spanish bank, where the whole of the city, properly
so called, is built, the country, to the distance of two or three miles
from the walls, is perfectly flat and the soil sandy, and apparently
not very productive. On the bank the ground rises rather abruptly from
the brink of the stream, sloping upwards likewise from the sea, till
you arrive at the pinnacle upon which the citadel is erected, and which
hangs immediately over the town. Thus, though the Adour in fact
separates the city from the suburbs and citadel, yet as the ramparts of
the former extend to the water’s edge on both sides, and as those of
the latter continue the sweep from points immediately opposite, the
general appearance presented is that of one considerable town, with a
broad river flowing through the middle of it.

It will be seen, even from this short and imperfect sketch, that its
situation gives to Bayonne, considered as a military post, a
superiority over most cities; inasmuch as it affords peculiar
facilities towards rendering it a place of great strength. On one side
there is a plain, always accounted by engineers the most convenient for
the construction of fortifications; on the other an eminence, lofty
enough to command the surrounding country, and at the same time
sufficiently level at the summit to receive the walls of a fortress,
powerful at once from its position and regularity. But the great
strength of Bayonne arose at this juncture not so much from its
original defences as from the numerous outworks which had been lately
added to it. It was along the course of the Adour, as the reader will
probably recollect, or rather between the Adour and the Nieve, that
Soult formed his famous intrenched camp. The right of this chain of
stupendous works rested upon the city, the importance of which was
consequently much increased; and as the capture of it would have
occasioned not only the loss of a town, but the turning of the whole
position, no pains were spared in rendering it as nearly impregnable as
possible. That I may convey some notion to the minds of others of the
nature of these works, I will describe the aspect which they presented
to myself, as I rode from Anglet towards the city.

When I had proceeded about a mile and a half beyond our advanced posts,
I found myself in front of the first line of defence. This consisted of
a battery mounting three eighteen-pounders, upon the road, flanked by
other batteries, one on each side; all so placed as that whichsoever of
them should be attacked, it might be defended by a cross-fire from the
rest. These were of course additionally strengthened by ditches and
felled trees; but they were open in the rear; and though very
formidable to an assailing party, yet, when taken, could have been of
small service to the conquerors, being themselves exposed to the fire
of the second line. The situation of the second line, again, was
similar in every respect to that of the first, being, like it, open in
the rear, and placed under the guns of the town. Thus, after having
forced two powerful lines of defence, the besiegers would find
themselves almost as far as ever from the attainment of their object,
being then only arrived at the point where the labours of a siege could
commence.

But the maintenance of Bayonne must at all times depend upon keeping
possession of the citadel. The city lying upon a plain, and the castle
standing upon an eminence immediately above it, it is clear that, were
the latter taken, the former must either surrender or be speedily
reduced to ruins. It is true that, by destroying the bridge which
connects them, all communication between the two places would be cut
off; but the distance from the one to the other being not more than
half-musket shot, and the guns of the fort pointing directly down upon
the streets and of the city, any attempt to hold out could cause only
the destruction of the town, and the unavenged slaughter of its
garrison. Of the truth of this the French were as much aware as their
enemies, nor did they neglect any means which an accurate knowledge of
engineering could point out, for the defence of what they justly
considered as the key of the entire position. In addition to its own
very regular and well-constructed fortifications, two strong redoubts
were thrown up, on two sides of the fort, upon the only spots of ground
calculated for the purpose; both of which, I was informed by my guide,
were undermined and loaded with gunpowder, ready to be sprung as soon
as they should fill into our hands. They had judged, and judged
correctly, that if ever the place should be invested, it would be that
the trenches would be opened and the breaching batteries erected; and
they made every preparation to meet the danger which great prudence and
military skill could suggest.

Bayonne, though a populous place, does not cover so much ground as a
stranger would be led to suppose. Like most walled towns, its streets,
with the exception of one or two, are in general narrow, and the houses
lofty: but it is compact, and, on the whole, clean, and neatly built.
The number of inhabitants I should be inclined to estimate at somewhere
about thirty thousand, exclusive of the garrison, which at this time
amounted to fourteen or fifteen thousand men; but as most of the
families appear to live in the style of those in the old town of
Edinburgh, that is to say, several under the same roof, though each in
a separate story or flat, it is not difficult to conceive how they
contrive to find sufficient room, within a compass apparently so
narrow. Of its commerce and manufactures I can say little, except that
I should not imagine either to be extensive. I am led to form this
opinion, partly from having seen no shipping at the wharfs, and partly
because the Adour, though here both wide and deep, is rendered
unnavigable to vessels of any size, by a shallow or bar at its mouth.
There was, indeed, a sloop of war close to the town, but how it got
there I am at a loss to conceive, unless it were built upon the river,
and kept as an additional protection against a surprise from the water.
The shops are, however, good, particularly those where jewellery is
sold; an article in the setting and adorning of which the French, if
they do not excel us in really substantial value, undoubtedly surpass
us in elegance.

When I had taken as complete a survey of the town as I felt disposed to
take, I crossed the bridge with the intention of inspecting the
interior of the citadel. Here, however, I was disappointed, no
strangers being admitted within its gates; but as there was no
objection made to my reconnoitring it from without, I proceeded towards
the point where our trenches had been dug, and where it had been
designed to breach and storm the place. To this I was urged by two
motives, partly from the desire of obtaining the best view possible of
the fort, and partly that I might examine the ground upon which the
desperate affair of the 14th of April took place. The reader cannot
have forgotten, that some hours before daylight on the morning of that
day, a vigorous and well-arranged sortie was made by the garrison, and
that it was not without hard fighting and a severe loss on both sides
that the attack was finally repulsed.

Mounting the heights, I soon arrived at St. Etienne, a little village
nearly on a level with the citadel, and not more than a quarter of a
mile from its walls. From this point I could satisfy my curiosity to
the full, and as the account may not, perhaps, be uninteresting, I
shall describe, as well as I am able, the scene which here met my eyes.

St. Etienne

The ridge of little hills upon which the fort and village are built,
though it rises by gentle gradation from the sea, towards the spot
where I now stood, is nevertheless intersected and broken here and
there by deep glens or ravines. Two of these glens, one to the right,
the other to the left, chance to occur immediately under the ramparts
of the fortress, supplying, in some measure, the purposes of a ditch,
and leaving a sort of table or elevated neck of land between them, the
extremity of which is occupied by the village. On this neck of land the
besieged had constructed one of the redoubts to which I alluded as
having been lately thrown up; whilst on another table, at the opposite
side of the left ravine, which winds round in the direction of the
wall, as nearly as if it were the work of art, stands the other
redoubt. Beyond this, again, there is a perpendicular precipice, the
hills there abruptly ending; so that on two sides the walls of the fort
skirt the extremity of a bare rock. It was along the outer ridges of
these ravines, and through the churchyard of St. Etienne, that our
trenches were drawn, the village itself being the most advanced British
post; and it was along these ridges, and in the street of this village,
that the action of the 14th of April was fought.

It is not my business, neither indeed is it my intention, to relate
here the particulars of that affair. The French, having contrived, in a
dark night, to elude the vigilance of our sentinels, came upon the
piquets unperceived, and took them completely by surprise. The battle
was maintained on both sides with great determination, and had it not
been for the unfortunate capture of Sir John Hope and the fall of
General Hay, the assailants would have had little cause to rejoice at
the result: for though the loss of the English was certainly great,
that of the French was at least not inferior. Yet the business was an
unfortunate one to both parties, since, before it took place,
Buonaparte had already abdicated, and the preliminaries of peace were
already signed between the two nations.

I found the village, in which the fighting had been most obstinately
maintained, in the condition of most villages where such dramas have
been acted. The street had been barricaded, but the barricade was
almost entirely torn down; the houses, trees, and church, like those we
had passed upon the march, were covered with the marks of cannon and
musket balls, whilst quantities of round and grape shot, of musket and
pistol bullets, broken bayonets, swords, &c. &c., lay scattered about
in every direction. Nor were these the only evidences of strife
discernible. In many places—on the pavement of the street, in the
churchyard, but above all, on the floor of the church itself, —the
traces of blood were still distinctly visible. Beside the remains of
the barricade there stood a solitary six-pounder, which had been taken
and re-taken nine times during the struggle; and a sprinkling of what
looked like a mixture of blood and brains still adhering to its
carriage and breech, showed that it had never been given up without the
most desperate resistance. The mounds, too, under which the dead were
buried, presented a peculiarly striking appearance; for the field of
action having been narrow, those that fell, fell in heaps together, and
being buried in the same way, one was led to form an idea of greater
slaughter than if double the number of graves had been distinguishable
in a more extended space.

Having now accomplished my wishes as far as I could, and beginning to
feel somewhat fatigued with strolling about, I adjourned to an hotel in
the city, from whence, in the evening, I went to the play. The house
was poor and the performance miserable, consequently there was no great
inducement to sit out the whole of the piece. After witnessing an act
or two, therefore, I returned to the inn, where I slept, and at an
early hour next morning rejoined my regiment, already under arms and
making preparations for the continuance of the march.

MARCH THROUGH BAYONNE—TO ONDRES

As it would have been considerably out of our way to go round by the
floating bridge[1], permission was applied for and granted, to pass
directly through Bayonne. With bayonets fixed, band playing, and
colours flying, we accordingly marched along the streets of that city;
a large proportion of the garrison being drawn up to receive us, and
the windows crowded with spectators, male and female, eager to behold
the troops from whom not long ago they had probably expected a visit of
a very different nature. The scene was certainly remarkable enough, and
the transition from animosity to good-will as singular as it was
sudden; nor do I imagine that it would be easy to define the sensations
of either party, on being thus strangely brought n contact with the
other. The females, indeed, waved their handkerchiefs, whilst we bowed
and kissed our hands; but I thought I could discover something like a
suppressed scowl upon the countenances of the military. Certain it is,
that in whatever light the new state of affairs might be regarded by
the great bulk of the nation, with the army it was by no means popular;
and at this period they appeared to consider the passage of British
troops through their lines as the triumphal entrance of a victorious
enemy.

 [1] The bridge here alluded to was thrown across the Adour by the Duke
 of Wellington at the commencement of the siege. It was composed of a
 number of small fishing vessels fastened together with cords, and
 planked from one to another, the whole firmly moored about three miles
 below Bayonne. Whether the daringness of the attempt, or the
 difficulties surmounted in its completion, be considered, the
 construction of this bridge may be looked upon as one of the most
 extraordinary actions of that extraordinary man.


As soon as we had cleared the entrenchments of Bayonne, and got beyond
the limits of the allied camps, we found ours in a country more
peaceful and more picturesque than any we had yet traversed. There were
here no signs of war or marks of violence. The cottages were covered
with honeysuckle and roses, the gardens were blooming in the most
perfect order; the corn was growing in great plenty and richness, and
the vines were clustering round their poles like the hops in the
gardens of Kent. It is impossible to describe the feeling of absolute
refreshment which such a sight stirred up in men who, for so long a
time, had looked upon nothing but ruin and devastation. It is true that
with respect to grandeur, or even beauty, the scenery through which we
now travelled was not to be compared with the sublime passes of the
Pyrenees, or with many spots which we had beheld; but in truth, a
hamlet uninjured and tenanted by its own rude peasantry, a field of
Indian corn exhibiting no wasteful track of foragers, nay, a single
cottage with its flowers and evergreens budding around it, was at this
a more welcome object to our eyes than the wildest mountains or most
romantic valleys displaying no habitations except white tents and no
inhabitants except soldiers. For my own part I felt as if I had once
more returned into the bosom of civilized and domestic life, after
having been for many months a wanderer and a savage.

The road along which we proceeded had been made by Napoleon, and was
remarkably good. It was sheltered, on each side, from the rays of the
sun, by groves of cork-trees mingled with fir; by which means, though
the day was overpoweringly hot, we did not suffer so much as we should
otherwise have done. Our march was, therefore, exceedingly agreeable,
and we came in, about noon, very little fatigued, to the village of
Ondres, where the tents were pitched, and we remained till the morrow.




CHAPTER III.

LES LANDES


The dawn was just beginning to appear, when the bugles sounded, and the
tents were struck. For the first few leagues, our route to-day
resembled that of yesterday, in almost every particular. There was the
same appearance of peaceful quiet, the same delightful intermingling of
woods, corn-fields, vineyards, and pasture; but we had not proceeded
far, when a marked difference was perceptible; every step we trod, the
soil became more and more sandy, the cultivation less frequent, and the
wood more abundant, till at last we found ourselves marching through
the heart of an immense forest of pines. We had diverged, it appeared,
from the main road, which carries the traveller through a rich and open
country, and were pursuing another through the middle of those deserts
and savannahs which lie towards the coast; a district known by the name
of les Landes. There was something, if not beautiful, at least new and
striking in the scenery now around us. Wherever the eye turned, it was
met by one wide waste of gloomy pine-trees; diversified, here and
there, by the unexpected appearance of a modest hamlet, which looked as
if it were the abode of some newly arrived settlers in a country
hitherto devoid of human habitations.

Were I to continue the detail of a long march through these barren
regions, I should soon fatigue, without amusing my reader: I shall,
therefore, content myself with observing, that day after day the same
dreary prospect presented itself, varied by the occasional occurrence
of huge uncultivated plains, which apparently chequer the forest, at
certain intervals, with spots of stunted and unprofitable pasturage;
upon these there were usually flocks of sheep grazing, in the mode of
watching which, the peasants fully evinced the truth of the old
proverb, that necessity is the mother of invention. I do not know
whether the practice to which I allude be generally known, but as it
struck me as very remarkable, I shall offer no apology for relating it.

The whole of this district, as well where it is wooded, as where it is
bare, is perfectly flat, containing scarcely a knoll or eminence any
sort, as far as the eye can reach. In addition to this, the vast plains
where the sheep are fed, many of which extend two or three leagues in
every direction, produce not so much as a fir-tree, by climbing which,
a man might see to any of its extremities: and the consequence is, that
the shepherds are constantly in danger of losing their sheep, as one
loses sight of a vessel at sea, in the distance. To remedy this evil,
they have fallen upon a plan not more simple than ingenious; they all
walk on stilts, exactly similar to those with which our school-boys
amuse themselves; the only difference lying here, that whereas the
school-boys’ stilts are with us seldom raised above ten or twelve
inches from the ground, those of the French peasants are elevated to
the height of six or eight feet.

When we first caught a glimpse of these figures, it was in the dusk of
the morning, and for awhile we were willing to persuade ourselves that
the haze had deceived us, by seeming to enlarge bodies beyond their
real dimensions. But when we looked at the trees, we saw them in their
own proper size, nor could we suppose that the atmosphere would have an
effect upon one object, which it had not upon another; yet there
appeared to be no other way of accounting for the phenomenon, unless
indeed this wild country were the parent of a race of giants, for the
men whom we saw resembled moving towers rather than mortals. I need not
observe that our astonishment was very great; nor, in was it much
diminished when, on a nearer approach, we discovered the truth, and
witnessed the agility with which they moved, and the ease with which,
aided by the poles which each carried in his hand, they would stoop to
the ground, pick up the article, and stand upright again. But if we
admired the skill of one or two individuals, our admiration rose to a
still higher pitch when we saw crowds of them together, all equally
skilful; till they informed us that the thing was not an amusement, but
universally practised for the purpose I have stated.

Besides this, I know of nothing in the customs of this isolated people
at all worthy of notice, unless, indeed, it be their method of
supplying themselves with lights. Being completely cut off from the
rest of the world, it is not in their power, except when once or twice
a-year they travel to the nearest towns with their wool, to purchase
candles; and as they have no notion how these can be made, they
substitute in their room a lamp, fed with the turpentine extracted from
the fir-trees. The whole process is simple and primitive: to obtain the
turpentine they out a hole in the tree, and fasten a dish in it to
catch the sap as it oozes through; and as soon as the dish is filled,
they put a wick of cotton into the midst of the liquor, and burn it as
we do a lamp. The light is not indeed of the most brilliant nature, but
it is at least better than none; and as they have fir-trees in
abundance within their reach, there is no danger of their oil being
quickly exhausted.

MARCH TO BORDEAUX

In this manner was an entire week expended, each succeeding day
introducing us to a repetition of the same adventures, and a renewal of
the same scenery, which had amused us during the day before; nor was it
till the morning of the twenty-third that we at last began to emerge
from the forests, and to find ourselves once again in a more open
country. At first, however, it cannot be said that, with respect to
beauty, the change was greatly for the better. Upon the borders of the
deserts there is a little village called Le Barp, where we spent the
night of the twenty-second; from whence, till you arrive at a place
called Belle-Vue, the country is exactly in that state which land
assumes when nature has begun to lose ground, and art to gain it—when
the wild simplicity of the one is destroyed, and the rich luxuriance of
the other has not yet been superinduced. So far, therefore, we
proceeded, regretting, rather than rejoicing, that we had quitted the
woods; but no sooner had we attained that point, than there burst upon
us, all on a sudden, a prospect as gloriously fertile as ever delighted
the eyes of a weary traveller.

BORDEAUX

Instead of boundless forests of pine, the whole face of the country was
now covered with vineyards, interspersed, in the most exquisite and
tasteful manner, with corn-fields and meadows of the richest pasturage.
Nor was there any deficiency of timber; a well-wooded chateau, with its
lawn and plantations, here and there presenting itself, while quiet
hamlets and solitary cottages, scattered in great abundance over the
scene, gave to it an appearance of life and prosperity exceedingly
bewitching. Had there been but the addition of a fine river flowing
through the midst of it, and had the ground been somewhat more broken
into hill and dale, I should have pronounced it the most enchanting
prospect of the kind I had ever beheld; but, unfortunately, both these
were wanting. Though the effect of a first view, therefore, was
striking and delightful, and though to the last we could not help
acknowledging the richness of the land and its high state of
cultivation, its beauty soon began to pall. The fact is, that an
immense plain, however adorned by the labour of man, is not an object
upon which it is pleasing to gaze for any length of time; the eye
becomes wearied with the extent of its own stretch, and as there is no
boundary but the horizon, the imagination is left to picture a
continuance of the same plain, till it becomes as tired of fancying as
the eye is of looking. Besides, we were not long in discovering that
the vineyards were unworthy to be compared, in point of luxuriant
appearance, with those of Spain and the more southern regions of
France. In this neighbourhood the vine is not permitted to grow to a
greater height than three or four feet from the ground; whereas in
Spain, and on the borders, it climbs, like the hop-plant in England, to
the top of high poles, and hangs over from one row to another, in the
most graceful festoons. In spite of these objections, however, no one
could do otherwise than admit that the change we had experienced was
agreeable, and we continued to move on with greater alacrity, till it
was evident, from the increasing number of seats and villas, that we
were rapidly approaching the vicinity of Bordeaux.

Nor was it long before the towers and buildings of that magnificent
city began to be discernible in the distance. Prompted by I know not
what impulse, we almost involuntarily quickened our pace at the sight,
and in a short time reached the suburbs, which like those of most
French towns, are composed of low houses, inhabited by the poorest and
meanest of the people. Here we halted for a few minutes to refresh the
men, when having again resumed the line of march, we advanced under a
triumphal arch, originally erected in honour of Napoleon, but now
inscribed with the name of the Duke d’Angouleme, and ornamented with
garlands of flowers. Passing under this, we proceeded along one or two
handsome streets, till we reached the Military Hospital, a large and
commodious structure fitted up for the reception of several thousands
of sick, where it was arranged that we should spend the night.

The city of Bordeaux has been too often described, and is too well
known to my countrymen, in general, to render any particular account of
it at all necessary from me; and were the case otherwise, I confess
that my opportunities of examining it were not sufficient to authorize
my entering upon such an attempt. The whole extent of our sojourn was
only during the remainder of that day (and it was past noon before we
got in) and the ensuing night; a space of time which admitted of no
more than a hurried stroll through some of the principal streets, and a
hasty visit to such public buildings as are considered most worthy of
attention. The palace of the Duke d’Angouleme, the Military Hospital,
the Theatre, and the Cathedral, are all remarkably fine of their kind;
whilst the public gardens, the Exchange, and fashionable promenades,
are inferior only to those of Paris itself.

MACAU

I have said that our sojourn in Bordeaux was limited to the short space
of a few hours. We could have wished indeed to prolong it, but to wish
was needless, for at an early hour next morning we were again in
motion, and proceeded to an extensive common, near the village of
Macau, about three leagues from Bordeaux, where we found a considerable
force already assembled. Judging from the number of tents upon the
heath, I conceive that there could not be fewer than eight or ten
thousand men in that camp, the whole of whom, we naturally concluded,
were destined for the same service with ourselves. The sight was at
once pleasing and encouraging, because there could be no doubt that
such a force, ably commanded, would carry everything before it.

In this situation we continued, without the occurrence of any incident
deserving of record, till the 27th, when an order arrived for the
officers to dispose of their horses without delay. This was necessarily
done at an enormous loss; and on the morning of the 28th, we set
forward towards the point of embarkation. But, alas! in the numbers
allotted for the trans-Atlantic war, we found ourselves grievously
disappointed, since, instead of the whole division, only two regiments,
neither of them surpassingly numerous, were directed to move; it was
not our business, however, to question the wisdom of any measure
adopted by our superiors; and we accordingly marched on in as high
spirits as if we had been followed by the entire Peninsular army.

The remainder of our journey occupied two days, nor do I often remember
to have spent a similar space of time with greater satisfaction; our
route lay through some of the most fertile districts in France, passing
Chateau Margaux, famous for its wine, with other places not inferior to
it either in richness of soil or in beauty of prospect. The weather was
delightful, and the grapes, though not yet ripe, were hanging in heavy
bunches from the vines, giving promise of much wealth to come; the hay
season had commenced, and numerous groups of happy-looking peasants
were busy in every field; in short, it was a march upon which I shall
never look back without pleasure.

LA MOE.—AT SEA

The close of the first day’s progress brought us to a village called La
Moe, beautifully situated within view of the majestic waters of the
Garonne. Here, for the first time since we quitted Bayonne, were we
quartered upon the inhabitants—a measure which the loss of our tents
rendered necessary. They received us with so much frankness, and
treated us with so much civility, I had almost said kindness, that it
was not without a feeling of something like regret that we parted from
them. The second day carried us to Pauliac, an inconsiderable town upon
the banks of the same river, where we found boats ready to convey us to
the shipping, which lay at anchor to receive us.

To embark the troops in these boats, and to huddle them on board two
dirty little transports, occupied some time, and the provoking part of
the business was, that all this trouble was to be gone through again.
The men-of-war in which we were to cross the Atlantic, could not come
up so high for want of water; and on this account it was that
transports were sent as passage-boats to carry us to them. But the wind
was foul, and blew so strong that the masters would not venture to
hoist a sail; so we were obliged to endure the misery of a crowd in a
small vessel for two nights and a day; nor was it till past noon on the
31st, that the regiment to which I was attached found itself finally
settled in His Majesty’s ship ———— of 64 guns.




CHAPTER IV.

AT SEA


The land army, destined for the invasion of the United States, which
took shipping at this period in the Garonne, consisted but of three
battalions of infantry, the 4th, 44th, and 85th regiments; the two
former mustering each about eight hundred bayonets, the last not more
than six hundred. In addition to these, there were two officers of
engineers, a brigade of artillery, a detachment of sappers and miners,
a party of artillery drivers, with a due proportion of officers
belonging to the Medical and Commissariat departments. The whole
together could not be computed at more than two thousand five hundred
men, if indeed it amounted to so great a number; and was placed under
the command of Major-General Ross, a very gallant and experienced
officer.

The fleet, again, consisted of the Royal Oak, of 74 guns, bearing the
flag of Rear-Admiral Malcolm; the Diadem and Dictator, two sixty-fours,
armed en flute; the Pomone, Menelaus, Trave, Weser, and Thames,
frigates, the three last armed in the same manner as the Diadem and
Dictator; the Meteor and Devastation, bomb-vessels; together with one
or two gun-brigs, making in all a squadron of eleven or twelve ships of
war, with several storeships and transports.

On board the Royal Oak were embarked the General, with his staff, and
the artillery; the Trave and Weser were filled with the 4th; the 44th
were divided between the Dictator and the Thames, in the first of which
ships were also the engineers; the 85th occupied the Diadem; and the
rest were scattered through the fleet, partly in the men-of-war and
partly in the transports.

As soon as the troops, with all their baggage, were finally settled in
the vessels allotted for their accommodation, the signal was made to
weigh; but the wind being adverse, and the navigation of the Garonne
far from simple, it could not be obeyed with safety. Every thing,
therefore, remained quiet till the evening of the 2nd of June, when the
gale moderating a little, the anchors were raised and the sails
hoisted. The tide was beginning to ebb when this was done, favoured by
which the ships drifted gradually on their course; but before long, the
breeze shifting, blew directly in their sterns, when they stood
gallantly to sea, clearing the river before dark; and, as there was no
lull during the whole of the night, by daybreak the coast of France was
not to be discerned. All was now one wide waste of waters, as far as
the eye could reach, bounded on every side by the distant horizon; a
scene which, though at first it must strike with awe and wonder a
person unaccustomed to it, soon becomes insipid, and even wearisome,
from its constant sameness.

ST. MICHAEL’S

The fair wind which carried us out of the Garonne continuing to blow
without any interruption till the 19th of June, it was that day
calculated, by consulting the log and taking observations, that the
Azores, or Western Islands, could not be very distant. Nor, as it
turned out, were these calculations incorrect; for, on ascending the
deck next morning, the first object that met our eyes was the high land
of St Michael’s rising, like a collection of blue clouds, out of the
water. With such a prospect before us our consternation may be guessed
at, when we found ourselves deserted by the breeze which had hitherto
so uniformly favoured us, and lying as motionless as logs, under the
influence of a dead calm.

But the complaints to which we had begun to give utterance, were
speedily changed again into rejoicings, for before mid-day the breeze
once more freshened, and we approached every moment nearer and nearer
to the object of our wishes. As soon, too, as we contrived to double
the projecting headland which had attracted our attention in the
morning, our course became productive of much interest and pleasure. We
had neared the shore considerably, and were moving at a rate
sufficiently rapid to prevent further repining, and at the same time
slow enough to permit a distinct and calm survey of the beach, with the
numerous villages, seats, and convents that adorned it.

The island of St. Michael is mountainous, even to the very edge of the
water, but the heights, though lofty, do not present a rugged or barren
appearance. Here and there, indeed, bare rocks push themselves into
notice, but in general the ascent is easy, and the hills are covered to
the tops with groves of orange-trees and beautiful green pasturage.
Like other Portuguese settlements, this island abounds in religious
houses, the founders of many of which do not appear to have been
deficient in taste when they pitched upon situations for building.
There was one of these in particular that struck me: it stood upon a
sort of platform or terrace, about half-way between the sea and the
summit of the mountain; above it were hanging woods, whether natural or
artificial I cannot say, broken in upon here and there by projecting
rocks; and round it were plantations of orange-trees loaded with fruit,
and interspersed with myrtles and other odoriferous shrubs. Being
greatly pleased with the mansion and the surrounding scenery, I
naturally inquired from the pilot (for one had already come off to us)
as to its use, and the quality of Its owner; and from him I learnt that
it was a convent, I forget of what order,—a piece of intelligence which
was soon confirmed by the sound of bells distinctly audible as we
passed.

VILLA FRANCA.

In this manner we continued to coast along, being seldom at a greater
distance than four or five miles from the land, till we came opposite
to a small town called Villa Franca. Here, as the wind threatened to
die away, several others and myself agreed to go onshore: a boat was
accordingly lowered, and we pushed off from the ship; but the operation
of landing did not prove to be altogether so simple as we had expected.
An immense reef of rocks, some under water, others barely above it, but
none distinguishable till we had almost run against them, opposed our
progress; and it was not without considerable difficulty, and the
assistance of the country people, who made signals to us from the
beach, that we contrived to discover a narrow channel leading up to the
strand.

Having at length so far attained our wishes as to tread once more upon
firm ground, the next thing to be done was to find out some inn, or
house of public entertainment, where we might pass the night, a measure
which the increasing darkness rendered necessary. In this, however, we
were disappointed, the town of Villa Franca boasting of no such
convenience on any scale. But we were not on that account obliged to
bivouac; for the Alcalde, or mayor of the place, politely insisted upon
our accompanying him home, and entertained us with great hospitality;
nor, in truth, had we any cause to regret the unsuccessful issue of our
inquiries, since, in addition to the good cheer with which we were
presented, our host, being an intelligent person, did not fail to
render himself an agreeable companion; and what contributed in no
slight degree to the facility of our intercourse was, that though he
assured us he had never quitted St. Michael’s in his life, he spoke
English with the fluency of a native. Among other pieces of information
we learnt from him that the reef which impeded our progress towards the
land, had formerly been an island. It appeared, he affirmed, one
morning, in the most sudden and extraordinary manner, as if it had been
thrown up by an earthquake during the night, and having continued so
long above water as to embolden a single family of fishers to settle
upon it, it disappeared again as suddenly as it had come, leaving no
trace of its existence except the rocks which we had found so
troublesome. Whether there be truth in this story, I cannot pretend to
determine; and yet I see no reason to doubt the word of a man of
respectability, who could have no motive whatever for deceiving us. But
this was not all that we learnt from him respecting the reef. He
declared that previous to the appearance of the island, the water in
that very spot was unfathomable; and it was not till after it had sunk,
that a single rock stood in the way to prevent the largest ship of war
from anchoring within a stone’s throw of the beach.

Finding our new acquaintance so civil and obliging, we naturally
informed him of our intention to proceed next morning to Ponto del
Gada, the principal town in St. Michael’s, and requested his assistance
in procuring some mode of conveyance; but we were startled by the
intelligence that nothing of the kind could be had, and that there were
not even horses or mules to be hired at any place nearer than the very
town whither we were going. This was rather an alarming piece of news,
for our boat had left us, the weather was too hot for walking, and the
distance to be travelled full fifteen miles. Had we been prudent enough
to detain our boat, the matter would have been easily managed, because
we might have sailed round to the point where the fleet was to anchor;
but this was no longer in our power, and being rather unwilling to
pursue our journey on foot, we were altogether at a loss upon what
course to determine. Whilst we thus hesitated, the Alcalde suggested
that if we would condescend to ride upon asses, he thought he could
obtain a sufficient number for our party; a proposal with which we
gladly closed, prudently determining that any mode of being carried was
better than walking. Leaving the arrangement of this affair, therefore,
to our obliging friend, we retired to rest upon clean comfortable
mattresses spread for us on the floor; and on waking in the morning, we
found that he had not been negligent in the charge assigned to him. Our
party consisted of five officers, with five servants, for whose
accommodation we found ten asses at the door, each attended by its
driver, who wielded a long pole tipped with an iron spike, for the
purpose of goading the animal whenever it should become lazy.

It was not without a good deal of laughing that the cavalcade, after
bidding adieu to the hospitable Mayor, began to move forward. Our
asses, of no larger size than ordinary English donkeys, were
uncaparisoned, at least with bridles; and the saddles were neither more
nor less than the pack-saddles upon which goods are transported to
market. For our own comfort, therefore, we were obliged to sit a la
femelle, and having no command over the heads of our steeds, we were
content to be guided by the hallooing and punching of the drivers. In
spite, however, of these inconveniences, if so they may be called, I
shall never cease to congratulate myself on having been of the party,
because the ride proved to be one of the most agreeable I remember at
any time to have taken.

The road from Villa Franca to Ponto del Gada quits the water’s edge,
and turns, for a little way, inland, carrying you through a region as
romantic and beautiful as can well be imagined. There are here no level
plains, no smooth paths over which a landau or tilbury might glide,
but, on the contrary, a rugged and stony track, sometimes leading down
the face of steep hills, sometimes scaling heights which at the
distance of a mile appear to be almost perpendicular, and sometimes
winding along the side of a cliff, and by the edge of a fearful
precipice. Except when you reach the summit of a mountain, the road is
in general shaded by the richest underwood, hanging over it from above;
but the whole aspect of the country is decidedly that of a volcanic
production: the rocks seem to have been cast up and torn asunder by
some prodigious violence, and hurled, by a force which nothing but a
volcano could possess, into the most grotesque and irregular shapes. It
is no uncommon thing to pass under a huge crag, leaning almost
horizontally over the road, and bedded in the earth by a foundation
apparently so slight, as to appear liable to fall every moment,
precipitating the enormous mass upon the luckless wretch beneath. Nay,
the very colour of the stones, and the quantity of what bears every
resemblance to vitrification, scattered about, all tend to induce the,
belief that the main island owes its formation to the same cause which
doubtless produced the smaller one that has now disappeared.

ST. MICHAEL’S

It is not, however, to be inferred from the above description that St.
Michael’s is nothing but a barren rock; far from it. There is, indeed,
in this direction at least, a fair proportion of that commodity; but
tracts of cultivated ground are not therefore wanting. I should not
certainly suppose that the soil was remarkably rich in any part of the
island; but it produces the fig, the orange-tree, and a grape from
which the inhabitants make very tolerable wine; and there is excellent
pasture for sheep, and a competent supply of grain. But that in which
the Azores, and St. Michael’s among the number, particularly excel, is
the extreme salubrity of the climate. Lying in nearly the same degree
of latitude with Lisbon, the intense heat which oppresses in that city
is here alleviated by refreshing sea-breezes; by which means, though I
believe there is no occasion at any season to complain of cold, it is
only in the very height of the dog-days, if then, that a person, not
actually engaged in violent exercise, is justified in complaining of
sultriness.

The trade of St. Michael’s, as far as I could learn, is confined
exclusively to fruit: the fig and the orange are the staple
commodities; and being both very abundant, they are, of course,
proportionably cheap. Into the praise of a St. Michael’s orange it is
unnecessary for me to enter, because it is generally allowed to be the
best with which the English market is supplied; but of the excellence
of the St. Michael’s fig, I am not sure that my countrymen in general
are so much aware. It might be, that not having seen a fig for a
considerable lapse of time, my appetite was peculiarly sharpened
towards its good qualities, but it struck me that I never before tasted
any so highly flavoured or so delicate. Besides these, they sell to
vessels putting in, as we did, for water, some of the wine made in this
and the neighbouring islands; but the quantity thus disposed of must be
too inconsiderable to entitle it to be classed among the articles of
merchandise.

I find, however, that I am entering upon subjects in which I am but
little versed, and digressing from my narrative. Let me return, then,
to self, that beloved idol of all travellers, and state that, after we
had ridden about six miles, the road, which had hitherto conducted us
along a narrow glen, where the vision was intercepted on both sides,
now carried us to the summit of a lofty mountain, from whence we
enjoyed the satisfaction of an extensive prospect, both of the sea and
of the interior. Looking towards the former, we beheld our own fleet
bearing down majestically upon Ponto del Gada, and fast approaching the
anchorage. Turning our eyes inland again, we were delighted with a view
of mountain and valley, rock and culture, wood and pasturage,
intermingled in the most exquisite degree of irregularity; but what
principally attracted our attention was a thick dark smoke rising
slowly from the summit of a high hill that bounded the prospect. Our
curiosity being excited by this phenomenon, we inquired from our guides
into its cause, and were informed that the mountain in question was a
volcano, and that at its base and along its sides were hot springs of
water, of a temperature sufficient to boil an egg in three minutes.
This piece of intelligence confirmed me in my former opinion relative
to the operative cause in the production of these islands; though,
indeed, had such evidence been wanting, I should have equally
concluded, either that they were thrown up, in their present form, from
the bottom of the sea, or at least that they were torn asunder from one
another by the force of fire. It must be confessed, however, that mine
is the opinion of one who has devoted little of his attention to
geology; but I would by all means advise the disciples of Werner to
come hither, if they desire further helps in the prosecution of that
very interesting and practically useful study.




CHAPTER V.


Descending the mountain, on which we had paused for a few minutes to
feast our eyes and satisfy our curiosity, we arrived at a small hamlet,
or rather a group of two or three hovels, as romantically situated as
it is possible for the imagination of man to conceive. They stood at
the further end of a sort of recess, formed by the hills, which are
here broken into a circular valley, cut off, to all appearance, from
the rest of the habitable world; behind them rose a towering crag, as
perpendicular as the drop of a plummet, from the top of which a little
rivulet came tumbling down, giving to the scene an appearance of the
most delightful coolness, and amusing the ear with the unceasing roar
of a waterfall. From the very face of the cliff, where there seemed to
be scarcely soil enough to nourish a thistle, numerous shrubs and dwarf
trees protruded themselves; whilst above it, and on every side of the
area, the hills were covered with wood, interrupted now and then by the
bald forehead of a blackened rock. In front of the hamlet again, there
was an opening sufficient to admit the most delicious glimpse of the
ocean; and through this the stream, after boiling for awhile in a
little basin, which it has excavated for itself out of what resembles
the foundation of the cliff, makes its way, brawling over a clear
pebbly bottom, till it joins the sea.

This paragon of valleys burst upon us as such scenes, to be witnessed
with advantage, ought to do, without the slightest warning or
expectation. The road by which we approached it, being completely shut
in with wood, and winding considerably to aid the descent, brought us
out nearly at the gorge of the vale, so as to throw the hamlet, the
cliff, and the waterfall into the background; and as the whole was of
such extent as to be taken in at one glance, the effect was striking
beyond anything of the kind I ever witnessed. It is but natural to
suppose that we had no desire to hurry through such a glen as this; and
seeded not the additional motive which the weariness of our donkeys
afforded, to persuade us to a temporary halt. Giving the animals,
therefore, to the care of their owners, we dismounted, and went into
some of the cabins, the inhabitants of which appeared to be as simple
as the situation of their abodes had prepared us to expect. The men
were all goatherds, and the women seemed to be as idle as their
countrywomen in Portugal, sitting at the doors of their houses,
surrounded by groups of half-naked and filthy-looking children. If it
be fair to judge from their dress and the furniture of their hovels,
they were miserably poor, though perfectly contented; they did not ask
us for money, but astonished, I suppose, at the glaring colour of our
coats, they were very inquisitive to know who we were and whence we had
come. The English, the French, and the Portuguese seemed to be the only
three nations of whose existence they had any knowledge; and having
been assured, in answer to their first question, that we were not
French, they immediately added, “Then you must be English.” They did
not appear, however, to be without some degree of cunning, for as long
as we paused in replying to their query, they were silent; but no
sooner had we answered in the negative than they launched forth into
the most violent invectives against the French; convincing us that the
animosity of the mother-country towards its barbarous invaders was not
more implacable than that of the colonies.

Having loitered away half an hour in this romantic spot, and
distributed a few dollars among its inhabitants, we remounted our
steeds and continued our journey. The remainder of the ride carried us
through scenery very similar to what we had already passed; the only
difference was, that the nearer we approached to Ponto del Gada the
more frequent became the spots of cultivation, the width and smoothness
of the road improving in proportion; till at last, when we had attained
the brow of an eminence, from whence the town with its port and bay
were distinguishable, we looked down upon an extensive valley, richly
covered with fields of standing corn. Quickening our pace, we soon
entered the capital of St. Michael’s, and were conducted by the drivers
to a good hotel, kept by an Englishwoman of the name of Currie, where
we found every accommodation which we could desire, at a very moderate
expense.

PONTO DEL GADA

As we had started at an early hour from Villa Franca, the clocks were
just striking ten when we alighted at Mrs. Currie’s hotel;
consequently, there was a long day yet before us, in which we might see
everything that was to be seen in the place. Having discharged our
muleteers, therefore, who seemed overjoyed at the receipt of one dollar
a-piece, swallowed a hasty breakfast, and made ourselves somewhat
comfortable, we lost no time in setting out upon a stroll of
examination and discovery.

Ponto del Gada is, on the whole, rather a neat town, containing from
twelve to fourteen thousand inhabitants; but being built, especially in
the outskirts, without much regard to compactness, it covers more
ground than many places of double the amount in population. It stands
upon a little bay, formed by two projecting headlands, and can boast of
a tolerable harbour excellent roadstead. In its immediate vicinity the
country a more uniformly level than any I had yet observed; the vale
extending to the distance of four or five miles on every side, had
ending in an amphitheatre of low green hills, which resemble
appearance, the downs as they are seen from Eastbourne in Sussex. The
whole of this flat is in a state of high cultivation, being cleared,
perhaps too completely, of wood, and portioned off into different
fields and parks by hedges and stone walls. Judging from the appearance
of the crops, I should conceive that the soil was here of some depth,
as well as fertility, the whole valley being covered with wheat,
barley, and Indian corn. And in truth, if the aspect of the country
beyond the downs, where rocks tower one above another in rude and
barren grandeur, furnish a legitimate criterion by which to determine
respecting the general fertility of the island, I should be almost
tempted to believe that the whole industry of its people has been
expended upon this spot, simply because it was the only one capable of
rewarding it. I was assured, however, by the natives, that such is not
the case; and that, in the interior, and towards the opposite coast,
the rugged magnificence of mountain scenery gives place to a more
profitable though less picturesque champaign.

The principal streets of Ponto del Gada are paved, and kept once cool
and clean by a. constant sprinkling of water, which is the business of
two or three men stationed at pumps within obtain distance of one
another, to scatter over them. Of the by-streets little can be said in
praise, they being, like those of other Portuguese towns, composed of
mean cottages, unpaved, and extremely dirty. There is, however, an air
of elegance given to the town, particularly when looked at from a
distance, by the intermixture of orange-groves among the houses; the
largest of these, wherever they happen to stand, being, in general,
surrounded by extensive gardens, all of which are abundantly stocked
with that graceful and odoriferous plant. Add to this the number of
towers and spires with which its numerous churches and convents are
supplied, and the first aspect of the whole may be conceived to be
extremely striking and imposing.

As soon as we had taken a hurried survey of the streets, the next
object of attention was the religious houses. In these there was but
little to admire, the architecture being of the plainest kind, and even
the chapels as much wanting in ornament as can be imagined. There were,
indeed, in most of them some trifling attempts at carved work and
gilding upon the roof, a little stained glass, neither rich nor
ancient, in the windows, and a few tawdry pictures suspended above the
altars; but the general appearance was decidedly that of buildings
which did not even aim at beauty or grandeur. The monks we found a
good-natured, obliging set of men, very willing to give us any
information in their power; by one of whom we were fortunate enough to
be conducted through a convent of Augustine friars. Into their mode of
living it is not to be supposed that we could obtain much insight. It
seemed, however, to be less indolent than that of some convents which
we had visited in the old country, and approached proportionably nearer
to a college life among ourselves; though it must be admitted that the
fellows and undergraduates of Oxford and Cambridge have a better notion
of both comfort and elegance than the Augustine friars of St.
Michael’s. Of the nuns we of course saw nothing, excepting through the
grates. We found them full of curiosity, and eager to know as much as
they could learn of the world from which they were excluded; but quite
as fond of flirting as any set of young ladies at a boarding-school. It
was amusing to observe their mode of begging, for all the nuns in this
part of the world are licensed beggars. The younger and fairer members
of the sisterhood came to the grate first; chatted, sung, and presented
us with artificial flowers, and then retiring, made way for the old and
the ugly, who requested a little money for the good of our souls and
their bodies. To solicitations thus expressed it was impossible to turn
a deaf ear, and the consequence was, that we soon discovered it to be
quite as expensive an amusement to flirt with a nun, as with any other
belle in London or elsewhere.

Besides the churches and convents, amounting in all to not fewer than
nine, there is a fort erected for the protection of the harbour, which
we likewise endeavoured to see, but were prevented by the sentinel at
the gate, who refused us admittance. The disappointment, however, was
not great, as it was easy to perceive, from its outward appearance,
that the fort could possess few points worthy of observation; and,
indeed, we attributed the reluctance evinced in admitting strangers to
its utter uselessness as a place of defence.

To describe all this occupies but a small portion of time; but to see
it was the laborious employment of an entire day. Wearied out at length
with my exertions, and not feeling much rewarded, at least for the
latter part of my trouble, I returned in the evening to the hotel,
where, as the ships were still at anchor, taking on board water and
fresh provisions, I ventured to spend the night.

Having thus discovered that there was little in the works of art, and a
great deal in those of nature, throughout St. Michael’s, to interest
the traveller, a friend and myself determined to set off next morning
on a visit to the volcano. With this design we ordered asses, for asses
are the only animals for hire, to be in readiness by daybreak; and
finding them in waiting at the time appointed, we took a guide with us
and pushed forward in the direction of the dark smoke. The mountain
with its crater being distinctly visible from Ponto del Gada, we took
it for granted the distance between the two places could not exceed
twelve or fourteen miles; but, on inquiring of our guide, we learned
that the nearest road would carry us at least twenty-seven miles from
the town. This was at once a startling and unpleasant piece of
intelligence, affecting our arrangements in no trifling degree. To
proceed was dangerous, because, mounted as we were, to go and return in
one day was impossible; and, if we remained so far from the shipping
during the night, the fleet might sail before we should be able to get
back. On the the other hand, to give up our design, and quit a country
where a volcano was to be seen, without seeing it, appeared rather a
mortifying prospect. After weighing for a few minutes the chances on
both sides, I shall not say with the utmost impartiality, curiosity
finally prevailed over apprehension; and, in order to prevent any
further repentance and consequent change of mind, we put our donkeys
into a gallop, and hurried on as fast as they could carry us. But the
speed of the asses and our own venturous determination proved, after
all, equally unavailing; for, on gaining the summit of the downs, and
looking back upon the fleet, we beheld, to our great sorrow, the signal
for sailing displayed at the topmasts of all the ships. Mortified at
our disappointment, and at the same time rejoicing that we had got no
farther on our journey, we were compelled to turn our asses’ heads, and
to retrace our steps towards Ponto del Gada, where we found everything
in the bustle and confusion of a re-embarkation. The beach was covered
with sailors, soldiers, bullocks, and casks of fresh water, hurrying,
and being hurried, indiscriminately into the boats which had arrived to
take them off. The townspeople were running about upon the strand, some
offering their skiffs to convey the officers on board the ships, some
helping to swing the bullocks into the barges, and others shouting and
hallooing apparently from the disinterested love of noise. In short, it
was a scene of great liveliness and bustle, perhaps rather too much so
to be agreeable.

Seeing this universal eagerness to reach the fleet, we, like the rest,
threw ourselves into the first boat we could approach, and in a short
time found ourselves on board our own ship. But here a very tantalizing
piece of intelligence awaited us, for we learnt that, in spite of all
this show of preparation, the Admiral had not begun to weigh anchor;
and that no intention of moving was entertained, at soonest, before the
morrow. The opportunity, however, was lost; it could not be recovered,
and we were obliged to submit as cheerfully as we could, though it was
impossible to help regretting, what had at first been a source of
consolation, the circumstance of our having caught a view of the signal
at the time we did. But, as the event proved, all had turned out for
the best; for on the day following the signal was again repeated; and
by way of giving additional weight to it, the Admiral began to shake
loose his topsails. Nor did it prove, like that of yesterday, a false
alarm. By mid-day, the victualling and watering being complete, the
fleet immediately began to get under weigh; and, as the wind blew fair
and fresh, before dark the mountains of St. Michael’s could be seen
only like a thin vapour in the sky. Next morning nothing but the old
prospect of air and water met the gaze, as we stood our course, at a
rapid rate, towards Bermuda.

AT SEA

The voyage from St. Michael’s to Bermuda occupied the space of almost
an entire month, the first having been lost sight of on the 27th of
June, and it being the 24th of July before the low shores of the last
could be discerned. It was, however, a passage of more interest and
productive of more variety than that from Bordeaux to the Azores. We
had now arrived within the influence of the tropical climate, and were
not unfrequently amused with water-spouts, and other phenomena peculiar
to warm regions. The flying-fish, likewise, and its pursuer, the
dolphin, afforded at least something to look at; whilst many idle hours
were whiled away in attempts to catch or strike the latter with
harpoons. In these we were not always unsuccessful, consequently we
enjoyed several opportunities of watching the change of colour which
that fish undergoes whilst it is dying; and though the description
generally given of it is certainly indebted in some degree to the
imagination of voyagers, I must confess that the transitions from blue
to purple, and from purple to green, with all their intermediate
shades, are extremely beautiful. When the fish is in the water, it is
by no means remarkable for brilliancy of hue, and as soon as it is dead
it returns to its original colour—a dingy sea-green; but whilst it is
floundering and flapping upon the deck, it is impossible to say what is
its real appearance, so many and so different are the hues which it
assumes. Nor did we escape without the occasional occurrence of a less
agreeable species of variety; I mean squalls, thunder-storms, and
whirlwinds. As we approached Bermuda, indeed, these became too frequent
to excite any interest beyond an earnest desire that they would cease:
but while we were yet a good way off, and the incident rare, they were
witnessed with more of admiration than terror.

Besides these amusements with which nature supplied us, we were not
backward in endeavouring to amuse ourselves. Being now pretty well
accustomed to the atmosphere of a ship, we began to consider ourselves
at home, and to give balls and other public entertainments through the
fleet. One of these I shall take leave to describe, because I am sure
it must interest from its novelty. On the 19th of July, at an early
hour in the morning, a signal was made from the Royal Oak, that the
Admiral would be happy to see the officers of the fleet on board his
ship that evening. Boats were accordingly sent off from the different
vessels, loaded with visitors; and on mounting the gangway, a stage,
with a green curtain before it, was discovered upon the quarter-deck.
The whole of the deck, from the poop to the mainmast, was hung round
with flags, so as to form a moderate-sized theatre; and the carronades
were removed from their port-holes, in order to make room for the
company. Lamps were suspended from all parts of the rigging and
shrouds, casting a brilliant light upon this singular playhouse; and
the crew, arrayed in their best attire, crowded the booms, yards, and
fore part of the deck; whilst the space from the mainmast to the foot
of the stage was set with benches for the more genteel part of the
audience.

At seven o’clock the curtain drew up, and discovered a scene painted
with such taste as would not have disgraced any theatre in London. The
play was the ‘Apprentice,’ with the ‘Mayor of Garret’ as an afterpiece,
performed by the officers of the ship and of the artillery, and went
off in high style, applauded, as it deserved to be applauded, with the
loudest acclamations. The quarter-deck of a British line-of-battle ship
has often enough been a stage for the exhibition of bloody tragedies;
but to witness a comedy and a farce upon that stage, and in the middle
of the Atlantic Ocean, was delightful from its very singularity. When
the performance came to an end, the stage was knocked down, the seats
removed, and everything cleared for dancing. The music was excellent,
being composed of the band of the Royal Oak; and the ball was opened by
Admiral Malcolm and the Honourable Mrs. Mullens, in a country dance,
followed by as many couples as the space would permit; the greater
number of officers dancing, as necessity required, with one another. In
this amusement every person, from the Admiral and General, down to the
youngest ensign and midshipman, joined, laying aside for the time all
restraint or form of discipline; and having kept it up with great
spirit till considerably beyond midnight, a blue light was hoisted as a
signal for the different boats to come off for the strangers, and each
returned to his own ship highly gratified with the evening’s
entertainment.




CHAPTER VI.

BERMUDA


By employing ourselves in this manner, and by keeping up what is
emphatically called a good heart, we contrived to pass out time
agreeably enough. As often as the weather would permit, and the fleet
lay well together, we made parties of pleasure to the different ships;
when the wind was too high, and the fleet too much scattered for such
proceedings, we remained at home, and amused ourselves in the best way
we could. Some of the captains, and ours among the number, were
possessed of very tolerable libraries, the doors of which they politely
threw open for the benefit of their military guests; and thus, by
reading, fishing, and boating, we were enabled to make head, with some
success, against the encroachments of ennui. It must be confessed,
however, that in spite of strenuous efforts to the contrary, that
determined enemy of all idle persons was beginning to gain ground upon
us, when, about mid-day on the 24th of July, a cry of land was heard
from the mast-head. All eyes were immediately turned in the direction
to which the sailor pointed, and as wind blew fair and moderately
fresh, no great length of time before the same object was
distinguishable from the deck. A signal was immediately hoisted for a
pilot, who lost no time in coming off to us; and before dark we were at
anchor opposite to the tanks in Bermuda.

The appearance of Bermuda is altogether as different from that of St.
Michael’s as one thing can be from another. Whilst the last, with its
lofty mountains and bold shores, can be seen at the distance of many
leagues, a ship must be within a few miles of the first before the
slightest symptom of land is discernible. On this account it is that
mariners find greater difficulty in making Bermuda than perhaps any
other island or continent in the known world; the most experienced
seaman frequently sailing past it, and not a few suffering shipwreck
every year upon its numerous shoals and rocks. For not only is the land
itself low, and thus apt to be run against by vessels which may have
approached in stormy weather too near to put about, but for many miles
round, reefs of sunken rocks stretch out into the sea in every
direction; insomuch, that even the approach to the principal anchorage
is no more than a narrow channel between two reefs, in many places
scarcely exceeding a mile or a mile and a half in width. The
navigation, even in calm weather, is therefore attended with
considerable danger; the idea of which is greatly heightened by the
remarkable clearness of the water and the peculiar brightness of the
rocks. In some places this is so much the case, that the bottom may be
seen at the depth of six or seven fathoms; whilst the aspect of the
reefs which lie on each side, as you steer towards the anchorage, is
such, as almost to persuade you, contrary to the evidence of reason,
that a man might leap upon them from a boat without incurring the
danger of being wet above the knees. Yet these very reefs are seldom
covered with less than six, and sometimes with fourteen and fifteen
feet of water.

Low as they are, the shores of Bermuda are nevertheless extremely
beautiful. They are covered with cedar, a tree which here, at least,
seldom exceeds the height of twenty feet, and from which, before the
sun has risen and after he has set, the land breeze comes loaded with
the most delicious perfume. Under the wood there grows a rich short
turf, apparently struggling to spread itself over the chalky rocks, of
which the entire island, or rather islands, seem to be composed; and,
as the houses of the better orders are chiefly built within reach of
the cool air from the water, they, with their little lawns and gardens,
produce a lively and pleasing effect.

As darkness had come on before the ship could be properly moored, no
boats were permitted to leave her that night; but at an early hour next
morning I embraced the first opportunity of going on shore. To reach
St. George’s, the capital of the colony, you are obliged to row for
several miles up a narrow frith called the ferry, immediately on
entering which the scenery becomes in the highest degree picturesque.
Though still retaining its character of low, the ground on each side
looks as if it were broken into little swells, the whole of them
beautifully shaded with groves of cedar, and many of them crowned with
country-houses as white as the drifted snow. But the fact is, that this
appearance of hill and dale is owing to the prodigious number of
islands which compose the cluster; there being in all, according to
vulgar report, not fewer than three hundred and sixty-five, of which
the largest exceeds not seven or eight miles in diameter. Yet it is
only when you follow what at first you are inclined to mistake for a
creek or the mouth of a river, that you discover the absence of valleys
from between these hills; and even then you are more apt to fancy
yourself upon the bosom of a lake studded with islets, than steering
amid spots of earth which stand, each of them distinct, in the middle
of the Atlantic Ocean.

In the town of St. George’s there is nothing to be seen at all worthy
of record. It consists of about fifty or sixty houses, the glare from
which, as they are all built of the chalk stone, is extremely dazzling
to the eyes. It is called the capital, because here the court-house
stands and the magisterial sittings are held; but in point of size,
and, as far as I could learn, in every other respect, it is greatly
inferior to Hamilton, another town at the opposite extremity of the
cluster, which I did not visit. A little way from St. George’s, and on
the summit of a bare rock, stand the barracks, fitted up for the
accommodation of a thousand men; and about a mile and a half beyond
them are the tanks, well worth the notice of travellers. The object of
this work is to catch and preserve the rain—a measure which the total
deficiency of fresh springs throughout the colony renders absolutely
necessary. There are, indeed, wells dug upon the beach, but the water
in these is nothing more than sea-water, filtered and rendered brackish
in making its way through the sand, and by no means fit to be used, at
least in any quantity. To supply this deficiency, the bad effects of
which were experienced in the unhealthiness of many of the crews upon
the American station, Government was induced to build these tanks;
consequently the water contained in them is the property of the king,
and none but king’s ships, with the troops in garrison, are permitted,
except in extreme cases, to be supplied from thence.

The climate of Bermuda has been extolled by many, and among the rest by
Mr. Moore in his odes and epistles, as salubrious and delightful. It is
possible that he, and the rest of its eulogists, may have visited these
islands at a season of the year different from that in which I visited
them, but to me the heat was beyond measure oppressive. Lying, as they
do, under the influence of a vertical sun, and abounding in all
directions with cliffs of white chalk, it is obvious that the constant
reflection of the sun’s rays thereby occasioned must be quite
overpowering. If these panegyrists mean to say, that as long as you
contrive to keep in the shade, and take care not to stir abroad till
after sunset, you will find the Bermudas deserving of their title of
summer-islands, then I will agree with them; but I believe there is no
man who ever walked the street of St. George’s at noon, or any other
spot where the sun-beams could reach him, that did not consider the
heat as anything rather than temperate.

But whatever may be thought of the climate, there can, I think, be but
one opinion as to the soil. It is generally admitted that there is no
more unproductive spot of earth upon the face of the deep than Bermuda.
The only animals which appear to thrive are the goat and the duck; the
cedar and a few calabash-trees are the only wood, and, except the most
common kinds of vegetables, such as cabbages, onions, and sweet
potatoes; I know of hardly another thing brought to perfection, even in
the gardens. The fruits which a stranger may meet with are no doubt
delicious, since among them he will find the shaddock and the
pine-apple; but for these, as well as for almost all their other
comforts and luxuries, the Bermudians are indebted to the continent of
America or to the West Indies. Whether this be owing to the natural
sterility of the soil, or to the extreme indolence of the inhabitants,
I cannot pretend to decide; though I should be inclined to suspect that
both were, in some degree, to blame; but its consequences are felt by
all visitors, in a very sensible manner, every article of living being
here sold for thrice its intrinsic value. That provisions should be
dear in this country cannot surprise, when it is considered that this
small colony is the general depot and place of resort for repairs and
stores to a large proportion of the British navy, scattered along the
coast of America; but, surely, if the natives were a little more
industrious, they might afford to sell their goods at a cheaper rate,
and at the same time secure an equal, if not a greater profit. But
their indolence is beyond all conception, and can be attributed only
to, what I believe is its real cause, the facility with which they
acquire fortunes, from men who are necessitated to give whatever they
demand for the most trifling article. The poorest and meanest freeman
upon the island never dreams of applying his own hand, or even his own
head, to the cultivation of the ground; and being abundantly supplied
with negro slaves, they leave everything, even the care of providing
necessaries for themselves, to the industry of that ill-used race. I
may perhaps be considered as expressing myself with too much severity
towards the Bermudians, but, in truth, I repeat only what I was told by
some of themselves; nor did I, from my own personal observation,
discover any cause to question the veracity of my informers.

In the praise bestowed by Mr. Moore upon the beauty of these regions, I
do, however, most cordially join. There is something bewitchingly
pretty, for pretty is perhaps the most appropriate epithet to be used,
in every one of the many views which you may obtain from different
points. The low and elegant cedar, the green short turf, the frequent
recurrence of the white and dazzling rock, the continual rise and fall
of the numerous small islands, but above all, the constant
intermingling of land and water, seem more like a drawing of fairy land
than a reality. There is nothing grand, nothing imposing, or calculated
to excite any feeling bordering upon the awful, throughout the whole;
but it is soft, gentle, and exquisitely pleasing.

Having spent the day at St. George’s, I returned on board to sleep; and
on the morrow removed, with my baggage, to a transport then lying at
anchor within the ferry, which was thenceforth to be my head-quarters.
Thither my friend Grey also removed, and as our ship was well stored,
and its commander civil and accommodating, we had no reason to complain
of any suffering consequent upon our change of residence.

It will be readily believed that a very small portion of our time was
now wasted on board ship; for economy’s sake we usually slept there,
because at the inn the charge for beds, as well as for everything else,
was enormous; but all the hours of daylight were devoted to rowing
round the different islands, and climbing the different eminences, from
whence the most extensive prospects were to be obtained. Among other
curiosities, we were informed of two caves in one of the little isles,
distant about four or five miles from the place where we lay. Being
assured that they were highly deserving of notice, we determined to
visit them; and setting off one evening for that purpose, we reached
the spot which had been pointed out to us a little before dark. We
fastened the boat to the stump of a tree, and were proceeding towards
the caves, when a fine manly voice, singing one of the Irish melodies,
attracted our attention. Being rather curious to discover who, in this
extramundane place, had learnt to sing with so much taste, we followed
the direction of the sound, till we came upon a party sitting under the
shade of a tent, and, like ourselves, enjoying the cool of the evening;
on perceiving us, some of them came forward, and the satisfaction was
mutual when we recognised one another as old acquaintances. They urged
us to relinquish our design, and to partake of their good cheer, with
which, as the hour was late, we had small reluctance in complying; and
it was agreed, that instead of going on without proper guides, and at
so unseasonable a time, we should breakfast together at the same spot
in the morning, and proceed in a body to examine the caverns. Here,
therefore, we remained till the moon had risen, when we returned to our
boat, and sailed back to the ship.

Next morning everything was prepared for the expedition, but a heavy
squall coming on, prevented us from setting out as early as we had
intended; as soon, however, as this blew over, we took to our boat, and
reached the place of rendezvous in time to share the remains of a good
breakfast which our friends had prepared for themselves and us. When
our meal was finished, we supplied ourselves with torches from some dry
branches of the calabash-tree, and, headed by a guide, moved towards
the mouth of the nearest and largest of the two caves. We descended
into this by a ladder of sixteen steps, and arrived upon a broad ledge
of rock, where we halted for a few minutes to light the torches, and
accustom our vision to the gloom; when, both of these ends being
attained, we advanced a few paces into the cave, and a sight of the
most indescribable sublimity burst upon us. The appearance was that of
a huge Gothic cathedral, having its roof supported upon pillars of
spar, moulded into the most regular shapes, and fluted and carved after
the most exact models of architecture. The roof itself was indeed too
lofty to be discerned, nor could the eye penetrate to anything like an
extremity, all beyond a certain extent being wrapped in the most
profound darkness; but the flashes of light which at intervals streamed
out, as the glare of the torches fell upon pieces of spar as clear as
crystal, and the deep echo of our own voices as we spoke, inspired us
with a feeling of awe bordering upon superstition. It is in such a
situation as this, that the poverty of the mightiest monument of human
art becomes conspicuous. The most magnificent churches and abbeys, with
their sculptured pillars and vaulted ceilings, were thought of as mean
in comparison of what was now before us; indeed, I for one could not
help imagining that these very churches and abbeys had been built in
humble imitation of this, which looked like a temple reared by some
beings more powerful than men. It seemed a shrine worthy of the genii
of old, while yet they were in the zenith of their glory, ere they had
been driven from their thrones and oracles of darkness by the light of
Christianity.

As we moved onward we found the sides of the cave gradually narrow upon
us, and the roof become lower and lower. There was, however, a
continuance of the same fane-like appearance to the last, though
growing more and more contracted; till, finally, we were compelled to
advance one by one, and to stoop in order to prevent our heads from
coming into contact with the rock. We had proceeded as far as it was
possible to proceed with any degree of comfort, and were informed by
the guide that we were upwards of three hundred yards from the
entrance, when we found it expedient to wheel about, and to return to
the open air. But the effect of so sudden a change from darkness to
light was exceedingly disagreeable; insomuch that we hastened into the
smaller cave, as well for the purpose of deferring the moment of
suffering as to continue our search after the sublime.

The entrance to this cavern is extremely dangerous, and not to be
ventured upon without either a trusty guide or a thorough knowledge of
the ground. After descending a ladder, not quite so deep as that which
leads into the larger cave, we arrived at the brink of a fearful chasm,
across which a flat stone, about two feet in width, was laid,
connecting the edges by a bridge four or five feet in length. To what
depth the chasm may reach, the guide could not inform us; but that it
is considerable we discovered by dropping a large stone, which we could
hear for some time as it dashed against the projecting edges of the
rock, and at length splashed with a tremendous echo into water. The man
maintained that the sea beat under the foundation of the island as far
as the spot where we now stood, and his story was rendered at least
probable by the number of pools of salt water which we met with in the
interior of the cave.

After having visited the larger cavern, this certainly appeared to
disadvantage; though in truth it is in its dimensions only that the one
can be pronounced inferior to the other. The spar is equally clear and
proportionably as abundant in both: the pillars are quite as regularly
formed, and the lesser has an advantage over its rival in two or three
broken columns, which give to it the semblance of a temple in ruins.
There is also in this cave a strange propinquity of salt and fresh
water pools, the situation of two of which struck me as peculiarly
curious. They were divided from each other by a piece of rock not much
thicker than a man’s hand; and yet the water from the one tasted as if
it had been taken from the German Ocean, whilst that from the other was
as fresh and pleasant as possible.

We had by this time fully gratified our curiosity, and once more
ascended to the world of sunshine, the splendour of which was at first
almost insupportable. By degrees, however, our eyes became accustomed
to the change and recovered their original tone, when we separated,
each party returning to its respective ship in high good humour with
the day’s employment.

But to dine quietly on board was no longer endurable. A tent was
accordingly carried on shore, and having sought out the most shady and
agreeable nook within a moderate distance of the vessel, our dinner was
brought thither, and we spent the evening, as we had done the morning,
among the works of nature. Here we remained till a late hour, talking
over the adventures of the day, and occasionally attempting a blind
peep into futurity, till our friend the moon having risen, we again
pulled on board by her light, and lay down to dream of sparry domes and
enchanted temples.




CHAPTER VII.

AMERICA


Some apology is due to the reader, whose attention has been thus long
withdrawn from other and more important matters, to follow the
adventures of an humble individual like myself. The fault, however, of
which I have been guilty may be at once repaired, when I inform him
that on our arrival at Bermuda we found Sir Alexander Cochrane, in the
Tonnant, of eighty guns, waiting to receive us, and to take the command
of the whole fleet. The secret of our destination likewise, which up to
that moment had been kept, transpired almost as soon as we cast anchor
off the island; and it was publicly rumoured that our next point of
debarkation would be somewhere on the shores of the Bay of Chesapeake.
Nor are these the only interesting public occurrences of which no
notice has as yet been taken. On the 4th of June our little army was
reinforced by the arrival of the 21st Fusiliers, a fine battalion,
mustering nine hundred bayonets, under the command of Colonel
Patterson. On the evening of the 29th a squadron of four frigates and
several transports appeared in the offing, which by mid-day on the day
following were all at anchor in the roads. They proved to be from the
Mediterranean, having the 21st, 29th, and 62nd Regiments on board, of
which the two latter were proceeding to join Sir George Prevost’s army
in Canada, whilst the former attached itself to that under the command
of General Ross. By this very acceptable reinforcement, our numbers
were increased to upwards of three thousand effective men, and a
greater confidence in themselves, as well as a better grounded hope of
success in whatever they might undertake, was at the same time given to
the troops.

Having already dwelt sufficiently upon my own personal Adventures at
Bermuda, I shall not waste time by a particular detail of the various
preparations which during this interval were making throughout the
fleet. Stores of provisions, fresh water, ammunition, clothing, &c.,
were provided, and magazines for the future supply of the expedition
established; when, on the 3rd of August, all things being complete, the
ships once more got under weigh, and stood towards America.

THE CHESAPEAKE

During the whole of this day the wind was light and unsteady,
consequently little progress was made, nor did the white rocks of
Bermuda disappear till darkness concealed them; but towards morning a
fresher and more favourable breeze springing up, the rest of the voyage
was performed in reasonable time, and without the occurrence of any
incident worthy of notice. The heat, indeed, became more and more
oppressive every day, and the irksomeness of renewed confinement was
more sensibly experienced from the long holiday which we had enjoyed on
shore; but, in other respects, everything returned to its former state,
till towards evening on the 14th, when a signal was made by the Admiral
that land was in sight. As yet, however, there was no appearance of it
from the deck of our transport, nor for a full half-hour could our
anxious gaze be rewarded by the slightest trace of what it sought; but
at the end of that time the low sandy point of Cape Charles began to
show itself, and we rejoiced in the prospect of a speedy release from
the ennui of a seafaring life.

The coast of America, at least in this quarter, is universally low and
uninteresting; insomuch, that for some time before the land itself can
be discerned, forests of pines appear to rise, as it were, out of the
water. It is also dangerous from the numerous shoals and sandbanks
which run out in many places to a considerable extent into the sea, and
which are so formidable that no master of a vessel, unless he chance to
be particularly well acquainted with the navigation, will venture to
approach after dark. The fleet was accordingly anchored within a few
miles of the shore, but no sooner had the day begun to break than the
sails were again hoisted, and the ships, steering under the influence
of a leading wind, between the Capes Charles and Henry, stood in
gallant style up the Chesapeake.

This noble bay is far too wide, and the land on each side too flat, to
permit any but an indistinct glimpse of the shore from the deck of a
vessel which keeps well towards the middle. On the present occasion we
could distinguish nothing, on either hand, except the tops of trees,
with occasionally a windmill or a lighthouse; but the view of our own
fleet was in truth so magnificent as to prevent any murmuring on that
account. Immediately on entering, we were joined by Admiral Cockburn
with three line-of-battle ships, several frigates, and a few sloops of
war and gun-brigs, by which means the squadron could now muster above
twenty vessels entitled to display the pendant, besides an equal if not
a greater number of victuallers and transports. Nor were we
strengthened by this addition in the naval part of the expedition
alone. On board these ships was embarked a powerful reinforcement for
the army, consisting of a battalion of seven hundred marines, a hundred
negroes lately armed and disciplined, and a division of marine
artillery, so that we could now calculate on landing a corps of at
least four thousand men. The spectacle was therefore as agreeable and
imposing as might be; because we could not help remembering that this
magnificent fleet was sailing in an enemy’s bay, and that it was filled
with troops for the invasion of that enemy’s country. Thus, like a
snowball, we had gathered as we went on, and from having set out a mere
handful of soldiers, were now become an army, formidable as well from
its numbers as its discipline.

The shoals and sandbanks which abound on the outside of the bay,
continue to encumber the navigation after it is entered, and the fleet
was in consequence compelled to anchor every night. This proceeding
unavoidably occasioned much delay. The first day’s sail carried us only
to the mouth of the James river, and the second to the mouth of the
Potomac; but, on both occasions, we brought up at too great a distance
from the beach to permit perfect or distinct view of either of these
rivers. Opposite to the latter, indeed, we remained for a night and a
considerable part of the following day, and the sky being remarkably
clear, we saw something more of it than we had been able to see of the
other river. It appeared to be a fine piece of water making its way
through the centre of huge forests, and, though the current is in
reality strong, flowing on without any apparent motion. But it would
have been impossible to trace its course, even had we been nearer to
the shore, above a few miles, on account of its numerous windings, the
first of which, overshadowed as it is with wood, shuts it out from
further observation. By continuing here so long, we had begun to
conjecture that a landing somewhere on the banks of this river was in
contemplation. In this, however, we were deceived, for about one
o’clock the fleet was again under sail, and moving towards the
Patuxent, a river which empties itself into the bay, several miles
above the Potomac.

THE PATUXENT.

It was singular enough, that the ships had scarcely begun to lift their
anchors, when the sky, which had hitherto continued clear and serene,
became suddenly darkened and overcast with heavy clouds: and the water,
which before had been as smooth and bright as a mirror, began to rise
in black waves tipped with foam, though there was not a breath of air
to fill the sails. Hurricanes are, I believe, not unfrequent in this
part of the world, and it was expected that these changes in the sea
and sky foreboded the arrival of one; but they passed by without
producing any violent results, and when we brought up, which was done
in the evening, the clouds had dispersed, and the water was again like
a glassy lake.

The 18th of August had now arrived, and as yet we had advanced no
farther than to the mouth of the Patuxent. There we lay, as we had done
the day before, anxiously expecting a breeze; till about noon, the wind
beginning to blow fair, the fleet entered the river and made its way
slowly and majestically against the stream. The voyage soon became
picturesque and interesting in the highest degree. Fields of Indian
corn, with meadows of the most luxuriant pasture, stretched along the
margin of the stream on either hand; whilst the neat wooden houses of
the settlers, all of them painted white, and surrounded with orchards
and gardens, presented a striking contrast to the boundless forests
which formed a background to the scene. Of the prodigious extent and
gloomy appearance of these forests, it is impossible for any language
to convey an adequate conception. There is nothing, at least nothing
which I have seen, in the Old World, at all resembling or to be
compared with them; and hemming in, as they do, on every side, the tiny
spots of cultivation, they certainly convey no very enlarged idea of
the power of human industry. The cleared fields on the banks of the
Patuxent, for example, could in no direction measure above half a mile
across,—in many places their breadth fell short of that, from the river
to the woods; and then all was one vast forest, through which no eye
could penetrate, nor any traveller venture to seek his way. We were, as
may be imagined, greatly taken by scenery so novel; and we continued to
gaze upon it with the liveliest interest, till our attention was drawn
away to other and more important matters.

ST. BENEDICT’S.

We had not proceeded many miles from the river’s mouth when a telegraph
from the Admiral gave orders for the troops to be in readiness to land
at a moment’s notice. Everything was forthwith put in a state of
forwardness; provisions for three days, that is to say, three pounds of
pork, with two pounds and a half of biscuit, were cooked and given to
the men; the cartouch-boxes were supplied with fresh ammunition, and
the arms and accoutrements handed out. The fleet, however, continued to
move on, without showing any inclination to bring to; till at length,
having ascended to the distance of ten leagues from the bay, the ships
of the line began to take the ground; and in a little while after, even
the frigates could proceed no farther. But by this time the sun had
set, and darkness was coming on; consequently, there was no
possibility, for that day, of getting the troops on shore without much
confusion, if not danger. All therefore remained quiet for the night,
with this exception, that the soldiers were removed from the large
ships into such as drew least water; which running up as high as
prudence would permit, under convoy of the gun-brigs and sloops of war,
there cast anchor.

As soon as the dawn began to appear, on the morning of the 19th, there
was a general stir throughout the fleet. A gun-brig had already taken
her station within a hundred and fifty yards of a village called St.
Benedict’s, on the left bank of the river, where it was determined that
the disembarkation should be effected. Her broadside was turned towards
the shore, and her loaded with grape and round shot, were pointed at
the beach, to cover the landing of the boats; and being moored and aft
with spring-cables, she was altogether as manageable as if she had been
under sail. The rest of the ships were several miles lower down the
stream, some of them being aground the distance of four leagues from
this point; but the boats were quickly hoisted out from every one of
them, and the river as covered in a trice with a well-manned and
warlike flotilla. The disembarkation was conducted with the greatest
regularity and dispatch. Though the stream ran strong against them, and
some of them were obliged to row fourteen or fifteen miles backwards
and forwards, so strenuously did the sailors exert themselves, that by
three o’clock in the afternoon the whole army was landed, and occupied
a strong position about two miles above the village.

From what I have stated respecting the gun-brig, it will be seen that
all things were in readiness to meet and repel opposition, should such
be offered. Her broadside being pointed directly towards the village,
whilst it hindered the enemy from bringing down troops in that
direction, gave to our people an opportunity of forming, and being able
to meet, in good order, whatever force might be posted to check their
advance up the country. Had a few pieces of artillery been mounted,
indeed, upon the high ground, afterwards taken possession of by us,
some execution might have been done upon the boats as they drew towards
the beach; but even that would have been trifling, because, unless they
had had leisure to heat their shot, no artillery, in the open country
could have long stood before the fire of even a gun-brig, armed as this
was for the occasion with long thirty-two pounders. Each boat-load of
soldiers, likewise, drew up the moment they stepped on shore, forming
line without any regard to companies or battalions; whilst parties were
instantly dispatched to reconnoitre, and to take possession of every
house, as well as to line every hedge, in front of the shore where
their comrades were arriving. But these preparations, though no more
than common prudence required, were unnecessary; since there was not
only no opposition to the landing, but, apparently, no enemy within
many miles of the place.

So much time was unavoidably expended in establishing the different
regiments on the ground allotted to them, in bringing up the hospital
and commissariat stores, and arranging the materiel, that when all
things were ready, the day appeared too far spent to permit an advance
into a country, of the nature and military situation of which we were
of course ignorant. The afternoon was accordingly devoted to a proper
distribution of the force; which was divided into three brigades, in
the following order:—

The first, or light brigade, consisted of the 85th, the light infantry
companies of the 4th, 21st, and 44th regiments, with the party of
disciplined negroes, and a company of marines, amounting in all to
about eleven hundred men; to the command of which Colonel Thornton, of
the 85th regiment, was appointed.

The second brigade, composed of the 4th and 44th regiments, which
mustered together fourteen hundred and sixty bayonets, was intrusted to
the care of Colonel Brooke, of the 44th; and the third, made up of the
21st, and the battalion of marines, and equalling in number the second
brigade, was commanded by Colonel Patterson, of the 21st. The whole of
the infantry may, therefore, be estimated at four thousand and twenty
men. Besides these, there were landed about a hundred artillery-men,
and an equal number of drivers; but for want of horses to drag them, no
more than one six-pounder and two small three-pounder guns were brought
on shore. Except those belonging to the General and staff-officers,
there was not a single horse in the whole army. To have taken on shore
a large park of artillery would have been, under such circumstances,
absolute folly, indeed, the pieces which were actually landed, proved
in the end of very little service, and were drawn by seamen sent from
the different ships for the purpose. The sailors, thus employed, may be
rated at a hundred, and those occupied in carrying stores, ammunition,
and other necessaries, at a hundred more; and thus, by adding these,
together with fifty sappers and miners, to the above amount, the whole
number of men landed at St. Benedict’s may be computed at four thousand
five hundred.

This little army was posted upon a height which rises at the distance
of two miles from the river. In front was a valley, cultivated for some
way, and intersected with orchards; at the further extremity of which
the advanced piquets took their ground; pushing forward a chain of
sentinels to the very skirts of the forest. The right of the position
was protected by a farm-house with its enclosure and outbuildings, and
the left rested upon the edge of the hill, or rather mound, which there
abruptly ended. On the brow of the hill, and about the centre of the
line were placed the cannon, ready loaded, and having lighted fusees
beside them; whilst the infantry bivouacked immediately under the
ridge, or rather upon the slope of the hill which looked towards the
shipping, in order to prevent their disposition from being seen by the
enemy; should they come down to attack. But as we were now in a country
where we could not calculate upon being safe in rear, any more than in
front, the chain of piquets was carried round both flanks, and so
arranged, that no attempt could be made to get between the army and the
fleet, without due notice, and time given to oppose and prevent it.
Everything, in short, was arranged with the utmost skill, and every
chance of surprise provided against; but the night passed in quiet, nor
was an opportunity afforded of evincing the utility of the very
soldier-like dispositions which had been made.




CHAPTER VIII.

NOTTINGHAM


Next morning the troops, as is customary during a state of active
warfare, were under arms an hour before daylight, and remained in
position till after the sun had risen. It was then confidently expected
that the column would be put in motion, though in what direction it was
to proceed, or what was the object of the descent, none but the General
himself appeared to know. A rumour, indeed, prevailed, that a flotilla
of gun-boats upon the Patuxent, commanded by the American Commodore
Barney, was the point of attack; and that while the land force advanced
up the river to prevent their retreat, armed boats from the fleet were
to engage them in front. That such was in reality the primary object of
the landing, I have every reason to believe, though circumstances
afterwards occurred to bring about a change in the plan of operations.
Into these, however, I shall not now enter, because they are in no way,
connected with the present stage of my narrative, but shall merely
observe, that in their expectations of an immediate advance the troops
were disappointed. Whether it was that the arrangements had not been
completed, or that intelligence respecting the state of the country and
the enemy’s preparations was wanting, I do not know; but the regiments
returned to the ground which they had occupied during the night, and
everything resumed the same face which it had worn on the evening
before.

In this state affairs continued till four o’clock in the afternoon,
when the General suddenly made his appearance in the camp, the bugles
sounded, and the regiments formed in order for marching. Nor did many
minutes elapse before the word was given, and the army began to move,
taking the direction of Nottingham, a town situated on the river, where
it was understood that the flotilla lay at anchor. The march was
conducted with the same caution and good order that had marked the
choice of ground for encamping and the disposition of the troops in
position. The advanced-guard, consisting of three companies of
infantry, led the way. These, however, were preceded by a section of
twenty men, moving before them at the distance of a hundred yards; and
even these twenty were but the followers of two files, sent forward to
prevent surprise, and to give warning of the approach of the enemy.
Parallel with the head of the three companies marched the flank
patrols; parties of forty or fifty men, which, extending in files from
each side of the road, swept the woods and fields to the distance of
nearly half a mile. After the advanced guard, leaving an interval of a
hundred or a hundred and fifty yards, came the light brigade; which, as
well as the advance, sent out flankers to secure itself against
ambuscades. Next to it, again, marched the second brigade, moving
steadily on, and leaving the skirmishing and reconnoitring to those in
front; then came the artillery, consisting, as I have already stated,
of one six and two three-pounder guns, drawn by seamen; and last of all
came the third brigade, leaving a detachment at the same distance from
the rear of the column, as the advanced guard was from its front.

In moving through an enemy’s country, the journeys of an army will,
except under particular circumstances, be regulated by the nature of
the ground over which it passes: thus, though eight, ten, or even
twelve miles may be considered as a short day’s march, yet if at the
end of that space an advantageous position occur (that is, a piece of
ground well defended by natural or accidental barriers, and at the same
time calculated for the operations of that species of force of which
the army may be composed), it would be the height of imprudence to push
forward, merely because a greater extent of country might be traversed
without fatiguing the troops. On the other hand, should an army have
proceeded eighteen, twenty, or even twenty-five miles, without the
occurrence of any such position, nothing except the prospect of losing
a large proportion of his men from weariness ought to induce a general
to stop, until he has reached some spot at least more tenable than the
rest. Our march to-day was, upon this principle, extremely short, the
troops halting when they had arrived at a rising ground distant not
more than six miles from the point whence they set out; and having
stationed the piquets, planted the sentinels, and made such other
arrangements as the case required, fires were lighted, and the men were
suffered to lie down.

It may seem strange, but it is nevertheless true, that during this
short march of six miles a greater number of soldiers dropped out of
the ranks, and fell behind from fatigue, than I recollect to have seen
in any march in the Peninsula of thrice its duration. The fact is that
the men, from having been so long cooped up in ships, and unused to
carry their baggage and arms, were become relaxed and enervated to a
degree altogether unnatural; and this, added to the extreme sultriness
of the day, which exceeded anything we had yet experienced, quite
overpowered them. The load which they carried, likewise, was far from
trifling, since, independent of their arms and sixty rounds of
ball-cartridge, each man bore upon his back a knapsack, containing
shirts, shoes, stockings, &c., a blanket, a haversack, with provisions
for three days, and a canteen or wooden keg filled with water. Under
these circumstances, the occurrence of the position was extremely
fortunate, since not only would the speedy failure of light have
compelled a halt, whether the ground chanced to be favourable or the
reverse, but even before darkness had come on scarcely two-thirds of
the soldiers would have been found in their places.

The ground upon which we bivouacked, though not remarkable for its
strength, was precisely such as might tempt a General to halt, who
found his men weary and in danger of being benighted. It was a gentle
eminence, fronted by an open and cultivated country, and crowned with
two or three houses, having barns and walled gardens attached to them.
Neither flank could be said to rest upon any point peculiarly well
defended, but they were not exposed; because, by extending or
condensing the line, almost any one of these houses might be converted
into a protecting redoubt. The outposts, again, were so far arranged
differently from those of yesterday, that, instead of covering only the
front and the two extremities, they extended completely round the
encampment, enclosing the entire army within a connected chain of
sentinels; and precluding the possibility of even a single individual
making his way within the lines unperceived.

These precautions were, however, like those of the preceding day,
unnecessary; no enemy making his appearance, even to reconnoitre: and
yet it cannot be said that the night was passed in uninterrupted quiet,
for the troops had scarcely lain down when they were disturbed by a
tremendous storm of thunder and lightning, accompanied by a heavy fall
of rain. The effect of the lightning, as it glanced for a moment upon
the bivouac, and displayed the firelocks piled in regular order, and
the men stretched like so many corpses beside them, was extremely fine.
The effect of the rain, however, was not so agreeable, for, being
perfectly destitute of shelter, we were speedily wet to the skin; and
the remainder of our resting-time was rendered thereby the reverse of
comfortable. But the feeling of fretfulness, natural on such an
occasion, lasted no longer than till the day dawned, and the line of
march was again formed; when their former good-humour returning, and
seasoned in some degree by the fatigues of yesterday, the troops moved
on in excellent order and in the highest spirits.

The route to-day was different, in many respects, from that of
yesterday. In the first place, we had now got beyond the stretch of
cultivation, and were proceeding through forests of immeasurable
extent; this, of itself, gave a very different aspect to all around,
because hitherto we had seen houses and fields of corn on each side of
the road, and now we could discover nothing but wild savannahs,
apparently untenanted by a single human being. In the next place, we
learnt from some of the country people, who had been impressed as
guides into our service, that numerous detached bodies of riflemen lay
in ambush among the thickets; and the very expectation of having
something to do, created a degree of excitement which, till now, we had
not experienced. In consequence of that information, the flank patrols
were strengthened and commanded to extend to a greater distance; the
advanced guard marched at a greater interval from the head of the
column, and the whole army moved forward with more caution and
circumspection than had hitherto been used.

In the course of this day’s march a little adventure occurred to
myself, which, in the illiberality of my heart, I could not but regard
as strikingly characteristic of the character of the people to whom we
were now opposed, and which, as at the time it had something in it
truly comical, I cannot resist the inclination of repeating, though
aware that its title to drollery must in a great measure be lost in the
relation. Having been informed that in a certain part of the forest a
company of riflemen had passed the night, I took with me a party of
soldiers, and proceeded in the direction pointed out, with the hope of
surprising them. On reaching the place, I found that they had retired,
but I thought I could perceive something like the glitter of arms a
little farther towards the middle of the wood. Sending several files of
soldiers in different directions, I contrived to surround the spot, and
then moving forward, I beheld two men dressed in black coats, and armed
with bright firelocks and bayonets, sitting under a tree; as soon as
they observed me, they started up and took to their heels, but being
hemmed in on all sides, they quickly perceived that to escape was
impossible, and accordingly stood still. I hastened towards them, and
having arrived within a few paces of where they stood, I heard the one
say to the other, with a look of the most perfect simplicity, “Stop,
John, till the gentlemen pass.” There was something so ludicrous in
this speech, and in the cast of countenance which accompanied it, that
I could not help laughing aloud; nor was my mirth diminished by their
attempts to persuade me that they were quiet country people, come out
for no other purpose than to shoot squirrels. When I desired to know
whether they carried bayonets to charge the squirrels, as well as
muskets to shoot them, they were rather at a loss for a reply; but they
grumbled exceedingly when they found themselves prisoners, and
conducted as such to the column.

But to return to the principal narrative. The army had now advanced
within a few miles of Nottingham, and the men were beginning to look
forward with some anxiety to a halt; whilst as yet nothing beyond the
capture of a few stragglers had occurred to confirm the rumours which,
in the morning, and during the whole of the march, had occasioned so
much more circumspection than appeared to be requisite. The day was
likewise far spent, and, as was to be expected, the ranks were
beginning to be less carefully preserved, when a smart firing in the
wood upon the right of the road gave new life and energy to the
soldiers. It was now confidently expected that the enemy would make a
stand. The column closed its order, ready to wheel into line in a
moment, and everything was on the qui vive: but it proved to be no more
than a rencounter between a party of American riflemen and the flank
patrol. After firing a few shots, the enemy gave way, and our main
body, which had continued to move on during the skirmish, came in
without the slightest opposition to the town of Nottingham.

We found this place (a town or large village, capable of containing
from a thousand to fifteen hundred inhabitants) completely deserted.
Not an individual was to be seen in the streets, or remained in the
houses; whilst the appearance of the furniture, &c., in some places the
very bread left in the ovens, showed that it had been evacuated in
great haste, and immediately before our arrival. The town itself stands
upon the banks of the Patuxent, and consists of four short streets, two
running parallel with the river, and two others crossing them at right
angles, The houses are not such as indicate the existence of much
wealth or grandeur among the owners, being in general built of wood,
and little superior to cottages; but around the village are others of a
far better description, which convey the idea of good substantial
farm-houses, a species of mansion very common in the United States. For
several miles in every direction the country was in a high state of
cultivation; though, instead of the maize and wheat which we had
hitherto seen, the fields were covered with an abundant and luxuriant
crop of tobacco. This plant seems, indeed, to be at all times the
staple commodity of that district; for, besides what was growing and
unripe, we found numerous barns filled with the remains of last year’s
crop; the whole of which was, of course, seized in the name of His
Majesty King George the Third. But in the main object of our pursuit we
were disappointed. The flotilla, which had been stationed opposite to
Nottingham, retired, on our approach, higher up the stream; and we were
consequently in the situation of a huntsman who sees his hounds at
fault, and has every reason to apprehend that his game will escape.

MARLBOROUGH

In this posture the army continued during the night, having its right
defended by the river, and its left extending considerably beyond the
town, and secured, as usual, by a connected chain of outposts; nor was
it put in motion, as had been done the day before, as soon as there was
sufficient light to distinguish objects. There seemed, indeed, to be
something like hesitation as to the course to be pursued,—whether to
follow the gun-boats, or to return to the shipping; but, at last, the
former proceeding was resolved upon, and the column set forward about
eight o’clock, in the direction of Marlborough, another village, about
ten miles beyond Nottingham. The road by which we travelled, as well
to-day as during the whole of the excursion, was remarkably good; in
some places rather heavy, from being cut through a sandy soil, but in
general hard, dusty, and, to use an expressive phrase, having a sound
bottom. Running, as it did for the most part, through the heart of
thick forests, it was also well sheltered from the rays of the sun; a
circumstance which, in a climate like this, is of no slight importance.
To-day, our whole journey was of this description, nor did we reach a
single cultivated spot till we approached the vicinity of Marlborough;
when we found ourselves in a country not more fertile than beautiful.
The ground, which had been hitherto perfectly flat, was now broken into
the most graceful swells, generally cleared of wood to within a short
space of the summits, and then crowned with hoar and venerable forests.
The village itself lies in a valley formed by two green hills; the
distance from the base of one hill to the base of the other may be
about two miles, the whole of which was laid out in fields of corn,
hay, and tobacco; whilst the slopes themselves were covered with sheep,
for whose support they furnished ample means. But Marlborough is not,
like an English village, compact, and consisting of one or two lanes
the houses are scattered over the plain, and along the sides of the
hills, at considerable intervals from one another, and are all
surrounded by orchards and gardens, abounding in peaches and other
fruits of the most delicious flavour. To add to the beauty of the
place, a small rivulet makes its way through the bottom, and winding
round the foot of one of these ridges, falls into the Patuxent, which
flows at its back.

During our progress to-day the same caution was observed which had been
practised yesterday. Nor was it altogether unnecessary, several bodies
of the enemy’s horse occasionally showing themselves, and what appeared
to be the rear-guard of a column of infantry evacuating Marlborough, as
our advance entered.

MARCH TO WASHINGTON.

There was, however, little or no skirmishing, and we were allowed to
remain in the village all night without molestation. But if we were not
harassed, we were at least startled on the march by several heavy
explosions. The cause of these we were at first unable to discover; but
we soon learnt that they were occasioned by the blowing up of the very
squadron of which we were in pursuit, and which Commodore Barney,
perceiving the impossibility of preserving, prudently destroyed, in
order to prevent its falling into our hands.

In Marlborough we remained not only during the night, but till past
noon on the following day. The hesitation which had caused the loss of
a few hours at Nottingham again interfered, and produced a delay which
might have been attended with serious consequences. At length, however,
orders were given to form, and we quitted Marlborough about two in the
afternoon, taking the road to Washington. During this day’s march there
was more skirmishing than had yet occurred. We had scarcely got above
three miles from the village, when the advanced guard fell in with a
party of riflemen, who maintained a sharp contest before they gave way.
The column, however, continued to move on without molestation, till
arriving at a point where two roads meet, the one leading to
Washington, the other to Alexandria, a strong body of troops, with some
artillery, were observed upon the slope of a height opposite. The
capture of Washington was now the avowed object of our invasion; but
the General, like an experienced officer, was desirous of keeping his
enemy in the dark as to his plan of operations. Whilst the advanced
guard, therefore, reinforced by two additional companies, marched
directly forward to dislodge the party from the heights, the rest of
the army wheeled to the left, taking the road which leads, not to
Washington, but to Alexandria. These movements were not lost upon the
enemy, who, observing by the dust in what direction the main body had
filed off, immediately began to retreat, without waiting for the
approach of the detachment sent against them. As they ascended the
hill, however, they made a show of halting and forming a line. Our men
moved steadily on in column, covered by one company in extended order
along the front; but the enemy, having merely thrown a few round shot
with great precision among the skirmishers, broke once again into
marching order, and were quickly hid by the rising ground. As soon as
they had disappeared, the advance halted; and having remained for about
an hour on a little hill to watch their motions, turned to the left,
and followed the rest of the army, which they found advantageously
posted at a place called Woodyard.




CHAPTER IX.


I had almost forgotten to state that, from the first moment of our
landing, the want of cavalry, so useful in obtaining information and
reconnoitring the open country, was very sensibly felt. To remedy this
evil, as far as it could by such means be remedied, orders had been
issued to catch and bring in all the horses that were found in the
fields or stables of any houses along the road; and these orders being
punctually obeyed, there were now fifty or sixty in the camp. Upon
these some of the artillery-drivers were mounted, and the command of
the troop being given to an officer of experience, it was found of
great service during the remainder of the march.

The advanced guard having joined the main body, the whole army, with
the exception of a party which had been sent to the rear to bring up a
convoy of provisions, was now bivouacked upon a rising ground, well
defended by hedge-rows and thickets. The night, however, was not spent
in as much quietness as usual. It was late before the troops got to
their ground, consequently the piquets, for want of light, could not be
posted in their customary good order, neither had there been time to
examine the country in the neighbourhood of the position. The outposts
were, therefore, kept in a state of constant anxiety by the frequent
appearance of small parties of the enemy, who hovered about, probably
with the design of cutting off stragglers, or perhaps of surprising, if
they could, some of the piquets themselves. But whatever their
intentions might be, the vigilance of the sentries contrived to render
them abortive; nor did anything occur during the night productive of
serious alarm; and the following day, being joined by the convoy which
came up in safety, the column was again in motion, hastening across the
country into the highroad, which had been deserted for no other purpose
than to mislead the Americans.

Having started on the 24th at an early hour, our march was for some
time both cool and agreeable. The road—if road it could be called—wound
for the first five miles through the heart of an immense forest, and
being, in every sense of the word, a by-path, was completely
overshadowed by projecting branches of trees, so closely interwoven, as
to prevent a single sunbeam from making its way, even at noon, within
the arch. We continued to move on, therefore, long after the sun had
risen, without being sensible that there was not a cloud in the sky to
screen us from his influence; whilst a heavy moisture continually
emitted from the grass and weeds on both sides of us, produced a
coolness which, had it been less confined, would have proved extremely
pleasant. So far, then, we proceeded without experiencing any other
inconvenience than what was produced by the damp and fetid atmosphere
which we breathed; but no sooner had we begun to emerge from the woods
and to enter the open country, than an overpowering change was
perceived. The sun, from which we had been hitherto defended, now beat
upon us in full force; and the dust rising in thick masses from under
our feet, without a breath of air to disperse it, flew directly into
our faces, occasioning the greatest inconvenience both to the eyes and
respiration. I have stated this at length, because I do not recollect a
period of my military life during which I suffered more severely from
heat and fatigue; and as a journey of a few miles, under such
circumstances, tells more than one of thrice the distance in a cool day
and along a firm wintry road, it is not surprising that before many
hours had elapsed numbers of men began to fall behind from absolute
inability to keep up.

Yet, in spite of all this, there was that in to-day’s march which
rendered it infinitely more interesting than any we bad performed since
the landing. We had learnt, from various quarters, that the enemy was
concentrating his forces for the purpose of hazarding a battle in
defence of his capital. The truth of these rumours we had no cause to
doubt, confirmed as they were by what we had ourselves witnessed only
the evening before; indeed the aspect of various fields on each side of
the high road (which we had now regained), where smoking ashes, bundles
of straw, and remnants of broken victuals were scattered about,
indicated that considerable bodies of troops had passed the night in
this neighbourhood. The appearance of the road itself, likewise,
imprinted as it was with fresh marks of many feet and hoofs, proved
that these troops could be no great way before us; whilst our very
proximity to Washington, being now distant from it not more than ten or
twelve miles, all tended to assure us that we should at least see an
American army before dark.

It was now that we experienced the great usefulness of our badly
mounted troopers, or as they were called by the private soldiers, our
Cossacks. The country, from being extremely close, had become open on
every side to a considerable extent, although thick groves, instead of
hedges, frequently separated one field from another. This was exactly
the ground on which cavalry could act with advantage; because they
might lie in ambush behind these groves, totally unperceived, and when
an opportunity offered, charge the column, before it had time to
prepare for their reception. There were one or two places, indeed,
where such events were confidently anticipated; whole rows of paling
having been pulled up from the side of the road, and open spaces left,
through which several squadrons of horse might gallop; and the
consequence was that every man held his breath in expectation, and
prepared himself to form square in a moment. It was here that the
mounted drivers became peculiarly useful. They were divided into small
parties of six or eight, and sent out in different directions to
reconnoitre, two of them generally taking post at every suspicious
corner, that one might give notice to the column, whilst the other
watched the motions of an enemy.

It so happened that these precautions were unnecessary, for whatever
might be the strength of the Americans in cavalry, their General did
not think fit to employ it in harassing our march. But the very
knowledge that every danger was provided against, and that they could
not be attacked without having time to make ready, gave to the soldiers
a degree of steady confidence which they would otherwise have wanted;
and the want of which, had the case been different, might have been
productive of disorder at a moment when good order was of vital
importance.

BLADENSBURG.

We had now proceeded about nine miles, during the last four of which
the sun’s rays had beat continually upon us, and we had inhaled almost
as great a quantity of dust as of air. Numbers of men had already
fallen to the rear, and many more could with difficulty keep up;
consequently, if we pushed on much farther without resting, the chances
were that at least one half of the army would be left behind. To
prevent this from happening, and to give time for the stragglers to
overtake the column, a halt was determined upon, and being led forward
to a spot of ground well wooded, and watered by a stream which crossed
the road, the troops were ordered to refresh themselves. Perhaps no
halt ever arrived more seasonably than this, or bid fair to be
productive of more beneficial effects; yet so oppressive was the heat,
that we had not resumed our march above an hour, when the banks by the
way side were again covered with stragglers; some of the finest and
stoutest men in the army being literally unable to go on.

The hour of noon was approaching, when a heavy cloud of dust,
apparently not more than two or three miles distant, attracted our
attention. From whence it originated there was little difficulty in
guessing, nor did many minutes expire before surmise was changed into
certainty: for on turning a sudden angle in the road, and passing a
small plantation, which obstructed the vision towards the left, the
British and American armies became visible to one another. The position
occupied by the latter was one of great strength and commanding
attitude. They were drawn up in three lines upon the brow of a hill,
having their front and left flank covered by a branch of the Potomac,
and their right resting upon a thick wood and a deep ravine. This
river, which may be about the breadth of the Isis at Oxford, flowed
between the heights occupied by the American forces and the little town
of Bladensburg. Across it was thrown a narrow bridge, extending from
the chief street in that town to the continuation of the road, which
passed through the very centre of their position; and its right bank
(the bank above which they were drawn up) was covered with a narrow
stripe of willows and larch trees, whilst the left was altogether bare,
low, and exposed. Such was the general aspect of their position as at
the first glance it presented itself; of which I must endeavour to give
a more detailed account, that my description of the battle may be in
some degree intelligible.

I have said that the right bank of the Potomac was covered with a
narrow stripe of willow and larch trees. Here the Americans had
stationed strong bodies of riflemen, who, in skirmishing order, covered
the whole front of their army. Behind this plantation, again, the
fields were open and clear, intersected, at certain distances, by rows
of high and strong palings. About the middle of the ascent, and in the
rear of one of these rows, stood the first line, composed entirely of
infantry; at a proper interval from this, and in a similar situation,
stood the second line; while the third, or reserve, was posted within
the skirts of a wood, which crowned the heights. The artillery, again,
of which they had twenty pieces in the field, was thus arranged on the
high road, and commanding the bridge, stood two heavy guns; and four
more, two on each side of the road, swept partly in the same direction,
and partly down the whole of the slope into the streets of Bladensburg.
The rest were scattered, with no great judgment, along the second line
of infantry, occupying different spaces between the right of one
regiment and the left of another; whilst the cavalry showed itself in
one mass, within a stubble field, near the extreme left of the
position. Such was the nature of the ground which they occupied, and
the formidable posture in which they waited our approach; amounting, by
their own account, to nine thousand men, a number exactly doubling that
of the force which was to attack them.

In the mean time, our column continued to advance in the same order
which it had hitherto preserved. The road, having conducted us for
about two miles in a direction parallel with the river, and of
consequence with the enemy’s line, suddenly turned, and led directly
towards the town of Bladensburg. Being of course ignorant whether this
town might not be filled with American troops, the main body paused
here till the advanced guard should reconnoitre. The result proved that
no opposition was intended in that quarter, and that the whole of the
enemy’s army had been withdrawn to the opposite side of the stream,
whereupon the column was again put in motion, and in a short time
arrived in the streets of Bladensburg, and within range of the American
artillery. Immediately on our reaching this point, several of their
guns opened upon us, and kept up a quick and well-directed cannonade,
from which, as we were again commanded to halt, the men were directed
to shelter themselves as much as possible behind the houses. The object
of this halt, it was conjectured, was to give the General an
opportunity of examining the American line, and of trying the depth of
the river; because at present there appeared to be but one practicable
mode of attack, by crossing the bridge, and taking the enemy directly
in front. To do so, however, exposed as the bridge was, must be
attended with bloody consequences, nor could the delay of a few minutes
produce any mischief which the discovery of a ford would not amply
compensate.

But in this conjecture we were altogether mistaken; for without
allowing time to the column to close its ranks, or to be joined by such
of the many stragglers as were now hurrying, as fast as weariness would
permit, to regain their places, the order to halt was countermanded,
and the word given to attack; and we immediately pushed on at double
quick time, towards the head of the bridge. While we were moving along
the street, a continued fire was kept up, with some execution, from
those guns which stood to the left of the road; but it was not till the
bridge was covered with our people that the two-gun battery upon the
road itself began to play.—Then, indeed, it also opened, and with
tremendous effect; for at the first discharge almost an entire company
was swept down; but whether it was that the guns had been previously
laid with measured exactness, or that the nerves of the gunners became
afterwards unsteady, the succeeding discharges were much less fatal.
The riflemen likewise began to gall us from the wooded bank with a
running fire of musketry; and it was not without trampling upon many of
their dead and dying comrades that the light brigade established itself
on the opposite side of the stream.

When once there, however, everything else appeared easy. Wheeling off
to the right and left of the road, they dashed into the thicket, and
quickly cleared it of the American skirmishers; who, falling back with
precipitation upon the first line, threw it into disorder before it had
fired a shot. The consequence was, that our troops had scarcely shown
themselves when the whole of that line gave way, and fled in the
greatest confusion, leaving the two guns upon the road in possession of
the victors.

But here it must be confessed that the light brigade was guilty of
imprudence. Instead of pausing till the rest of the army came up, the
soldiers lightened themselves by throwing away their knapsacks and
haversacks; and extending their ranks so as to show an equal front with
the enemy, pushed on to the attack of the second line. The Americans,
however, saw their weakness, and stood firm, and having the whole of
their artillery, with the exception of the pieces captured on the road,
and the greater part of their infantry in this line, they first checked
the ardour of the assailants by a heavy fire, and then, in their turn,
advanced to recover the ground which was lost. Against this charge the
extended order of the British troops would not permit them to offer an
effectual resistance, and they were accordingly borne back to the very
thicket upon the river’s brink; where they maintained themselves with
determined obstinacy, repelling all attempts to drive them through it;
and frequently following, to within a short distance of the cannon’s
mouth, such parts of the enemy’s line as gave way.

In this state the action continued till the second brigade had likewise
crossed, and formed upon the right bank of the river; when the 44th
regiment moving to the right, and driving in the skirmishers, debouched
upon the left flank of the Americans, and completely turned it. In that
quarter, therefore, the battle was won; because the raw militia-men,
who were stationed there as being the least assailable point, when once
broken could not be rallied. But on their right the enemy still kept
their ground with much resolution; nor was it till the arrival of the
4th regiment, and the advance of the British forces in firm array to
the charge, that they began to waver. Then, indeed, seeing their left
in full flight, and the 44th getting in their rear, they lost all
order, and dispersed, leaving clouds of riflemen to cover their
retreat; and hastened to conceal themselves in the woods, where it
would have been madness to follow them. The rout was now general
throughout the line. The reserve, which ought to have supported the
main body, fled as soon as those in its front began to give way; and
the cavalry, instead of charging the British troops, now scattered in
pursuit, turned their horses’ heads and galloped off, leaving them in
undisputed possession of the field, and of ten out of the twenty pieces
of artillery.

This battle, by which the fate of the American capital was decided,
began about one o’clock in the afternoon, and lasted till four. The
loss on the part of the English was severe, since, out of two-thirds of
the army, which were engaged, upwards of five hundred men were killed
and wounded; and what rendered it doubly severe was, that among these
were numbered several officers of rank and distinction. Colonel
Thornton, who commanded the light brigade, Lieutenant-Colonel Wood,
commanding the 85th regiment, and Major Brown, who led the advanced
guard, were all severely wounded; and General Ross himself had a horse
shot under him. On the side of the Americans the slaughter was not so
great. Being in possession of a strong position, they were of course
less exposed in defending, than the others in storming it; and had they
conducted themselves with coolness and resolution, it is not
conceivable how the battle could have been won. But the fact is, that,
with the exception of a party of sailors from the gun-boats, under the
command of Commodore Barney, no troops could behave worse than they
did. The skirmishers were driven in as soon as attacked, the first line
gave way without offering the slightest resistance, and the left of the
main body was broken within half an hour after it was seriously
engaged. Of the sailors, however, it would be injustice not to speak in
the terms which their conduct merits. They were employed as gunners,
and not only did they serve their guns with a quickness and precision
which astonished their assailants, but they stood till some of them
were actually bayoneted, with fuzes in their hands; nor was it till
their leader was wounded and taken, and they saw themselves deserted on
all sides by the soldiers, that they quitted the field. With respect to
the British army, again, no line of distinction can be drawn. All did
their duty, and none more gallantly than the rest; and though the brunt
of the affair fell upon the light brigade, this was owing chiefly to
the circumstance of its being at the head of the column, and perhaps
also, in some degree, to its own rash impetuosity. The artillery,
indeed, could do little; being unable to show itself in presence of a
force so superior; but the six-pounder was nevertheless brought into
action, and a corps of rockets proved of striking utility.

Our troops being worn down from fatigue, and of course as ignorant of
the country as the Americans were the reverse, the pursuit could not be
continued to any distance. Neither was it attended with much slaughter.
Diving into the recesses of the forests, and covering themselves with
riflemen, the enemy were quickly beyond our reach; and having no
cavalry to scour even the high road, ten of the lightest of their guns
were carried off in the flight. The defeat, however, was absolute, and
the army which had been collected for the defence of Washington was
scattered beyond the possibility of, at least, an immediate reunion;
and as the distance from Bladensburg to that city does not exceed four
miles, there appeared to be no further obstacle in the way to prevent
its immediate capture.




CHAPTER X.

WASHINGTON


An opportunity so favourable was not endangered by any needless delay.
While the two brigades which had been engaged remained upon the field
to recover their order, the third, which had formed the reserve, and
was consequently unbroken, took the lead, and pushed forward at a rapid
rate towards Washington.

As it was not the intention of the British Government to attempt
permanent conquests in this part of America, and as the General was
well aware that, with a handful of men, he could not pretend to
establish himself, for any length of time, in an enemy’s capital, he
determined to lay it under contribution, and to return quietly to the
shipping. Nor was there anything unworthy of the character of a British
officer in this determination. By all the customs of war, whatever
public property may chance to be in a captured town, becomes,
confessedly, the just spoil of the conqueror; and in thus proposing to
accept a certain sum of money in lieu of that property, he was showing
mercy rather than severity to the vanquished. It is true that if they
chose to reject his terms he and his army would be deprived of their
booty, because without some more convenient mode of transporting it
than we possessed, even the portable part of the property itself could
not be removed. But, on the other hand, there was no difficulty in
destroying it; and thus, though we should gain nothing, the American
Government would lose probably to a much greater amount than if they
had agreed to purchase its preservation by the money demanded.

Such being the intention of General Ross, he did not march the troops
immediately into the city, but halted them upon a plain in its
immediate vicinity, whilst a flag of truce was sent forward with terms.
But whatever his proposal might have been, it was not so much as heard;
for scarcely had the party bearing the flag entered the street, when it
was fired upon from the windows of one of the houses, and the horse of
the General himself, who accompanied it, killed. The indignation
excited by this act throughout all ranks and classes of men in the
army, was such as the nature of the case could not fail to occasion.
Every thought of accommodation was instantly laid aside; the troops
advanced forthwith into the town, and having first put to the sword all
who were found in the house from which the shots were fired, and
reduced it to ashes, they proceeded without a moment’s delay to burn
and destroy everything in the most distant degree connected with
Government. In this general devastation were included the Senate-house,
the President’s palace, an extensive dock-yard and arsenal, barracks
for two or three thousand men, several large storehouses filled with
naval and military stores, some hundreds of cannon of different
descriptions, and nearly twenty thousand stand of small-arms. There
were also two or three public ropewalks which shared the same fate, a
fine frigate pierced for sixty guns, and just ready to be launched,
several gun brigs and armed schooners, with a variety of gun-boats and
small craft. The powder-magazines were set on fire, and exploded with a
tremendous crash, throwing down many houses in their vicinity, partly
by pieces of the walls striking them, and partly by the concussion of
the air; whilst quantities of shot, shell, and hand-grenades, which
could not otherwise be rendered useless, were cast into the river. In
destroying the cannon a method was adopted which I had never before
witnessed, and which, as it was both effectual and expeditious, I
cannot avoid relating. One gun of rather a small calibre was pitched
upon as the executioner of the rest, and being loaded with ball and
turned to the muzzles of the others, it was fired, and thus beat out
their breechings. Many, however, not being mounted, could not be thus
dealt with; these were spiked, and having their trunnions knocked off,
were afterwards cast into the bed of the river.

All this was as it should be, and had the arm of vengeance been
extended no further, there would not have been room given for so much
as a whisper of disapprobation. But unfortunately it did not stop here;
a noble library, several printing-offices, and all the national
archives were likewise committed to the flames, which, though no doubt
the property of Government, might better have been spared. It is not,
however, my intention to join the outcry which was raised at the time
against what the Americans and their admirers were pleased to term a
line of conduct at once barbarous and unprofitable. On the contrary, I
conceive that too much praise cannot be given to the forbearance and
humanity of the British troops, who, irritated as they had every right
to be, spared, as far as possible, all private property, neither
plundering nor destroying a single house in the place, except that from
which the General’s horse had been killed.

Whilst the third brigade was thus employed, the rest of the army,
having recalled its stragglers, and removed the wounded into
Bladensburg, began its march towards Washington. Though the battle came
to a close by four o’clock, the sun had set before the different
regiments were in a condition to move, consequently this short journey
was performed in the dark. The work of destruction had also begun in
the city before they quitted their ground; and the blazing of houses,
ships, and stores, the report of exploding magazines, and the crash of
falling roofs, informed them, as they proceeded, of what was going
forward. It would be difficult to conceive a finer spectacle than that
which presented itself as they approached the town. The sky was
brilliantly illumined by the different conflagrations; and a dark red
light was thrown upon the road, sufficient to permit each man to view
distinctly his comrade’s face. Except the burning of St. Sebastian’s, I
do not recollect to have witnessed at any period of my life a scene
more striking or more sublime.

Having advanced as far as the plain, where the reserve had previously
paused, the first and second brigades halted; and forming into close
column, passed the night in bivouac. At first this was agreeable
enough, because the air was mild, and weariness made up for what was
wanting in comfort. But towards morning a violent storm of rain,
accompanied with thunder and lightning, came on, which disturbed the
rest of all who were exposed to it. Yet in spite of the inconvenience
arising from the shower, I cannot say that I felt disposed to grumble
at the interruption, for it appeared that what I had before considered
as superlatively sublime, still wanted this to render it complete. The
flashes of lightning vied in brilliancy with the flames which burst
from the roofs of burning houses, whilst the thunder drowned for a time
the noise of crumbling walls, and was only interrupted by the
occasional roar of cannon, and of large depots of gunpowder, as they
one by one exploded.

I need scarcely observe, that the consternation of the inhabitants was
complete, and that to them this was a night of terror. So confident had
they been of the success of their troops, that few of them had dreamt
of quitting their houses or abandoning the city; nor was it till the
fugitives from the battle began to rush in, filling every place as they
came with dismay, that the President himself thought of providing for
his safety. That gentleman, as I was credibly informed, had gone forth
in the morning with the army, and had continued among his troops till
the British forces began to make their appearance. Whether the sight of
his enemies cooled his courage or not I cannot say, but according to my
informant, no sooner was the glittering of our arms discernible, than
he began to discover that his presence was more wanted in the senate
than in the field; and having ridden through the ranks, and exhorted
every man to do his duty, he hurried back to his own house, that he
might prepare a feast for the entertainment of his officers, when they
should return victorious. For the truth of these details I will not be
answerable; but this much I know, that the feast was actually prepared,
though, instead of being devoured by American officers, it went to
satisfy the less delicate appetites of a party of English soldiers.
When the detachment sent out to destroy Mr. Maddison’s house, entered
his dining parlour, they found a dinner-table spread, and covers laid
for forty guests. Several kinds of wine in handsome cut-glass decanters
were cooling on the sideboard; plate-holders stood by the fire-place,
filled with dishes and plates; knives, forks, and spoons, were arranged
for immediate use; everything in short was ready for the entertainment
of a ceremonious party. Such were the arrangements in the dining-room,
whilst in the kitchen were others answerable to them in every respect.
Spits loaded with joints of various sorts turned before the fire; pots,
saucepans, and other culinary utensils stood upon the grate; and all
the other requisites for an elegant and substantial repast were in the
exact state which indicated that they had been lately and precipitately
abandoned.

The reader will easily believe that these preparations were beheld, by
a party of hungry soldiers, with no indifferent eye. An elegant dinner,
even though considerably over-dressed, was a luxury to which few of
them, at least for some time back, had been accustomed; and which,
after the dangers and fatigues of the day, appeared peculiarly
inviting. They sat down to it, therefore, not indeed in the most
orderly manner, but with countenances which would not have disgraced a
party of aldermen at a civic feast; and having satisfied their
appetites with fewer complaints than would have probably escaped their
rival gourmands, and partaken pretty freely of the wines, they finished
by setting fire to the house which had so liberally entertained them.

I have said that to the inhabitants of Washington this was a night of
terror and dismay. From whatever cause the confidence arose, certain it
is that they expected anything rather than the arrival among them of a
British army; and their consternation was proportionate to their
previous feeling of security, when an event, so little anticipated,
actually came to pass. The first impulse naturally prompted them to
fly, and the streets were speedily crowded with soldiers and senators,
men, women, and children, horses, carriages, and carts loaded with
household furniture, all hastening towards a wooden bridge which
crosses the Potomac. The confusion thus occasioned was terrible, and
the crowd upon the bridge was such as to endanger its giving way. But
Mr. Maddison, as is affirmed, having escaped among the first, was no
sooner safe on the opposite bank of the river, than he gave orders that
the bridge should be broken down; which being obeyed, the rest were
obliged to return, and to trust to the clemency of the victors.

In this manner was the night passed by both parties; and at daybreak
next morning the light brigade moved into the city, whilst the reserve
fell back to a height about half a mile in the rear. Little, however,
now remained to be done, because everything marked out for destruction
was already consumed. Of the Senate-house, the President’s palace, the
barracks, the dockyard, &c., nothing could be seen, except heaps of
smoking ruins; and even the bridge, a noble structure upwards of a mile
in length, was almost entirely demolished. There was, therefore, no
further occasion to scatter the troops, and they were accordingly kept
together as much as possible on the Capitol Hill.

Of the city of Washington I have purposely declined attempting any
minute description, because it possesses no leading features, by
catching which I might hope to convey to a person who has not seen it,
something like an accurate notion of the whole. It was then, and is, I
believe, still in its infancy, few of the streets being finished, and
many containing not more than three or four houses, at wide intervals
from each other. But its situation gives to it advantages such as few
capitals either in the new or old world can boast of, and if it
continue to be the head of the American States for another century, it
will become, I doubt not, one of the most flourishing cities in
existence. America is, and always will be, a commercial nation, nor can
a single town throughout the whole of that vast continent boast of a
better harbour than Washington. Standing upon the Potomac, one of the
most navigable of all the rivers that empty themselves into the
Chesapeake, the depth of which is sufficient to float a frigate for
some way above the town, it possesses unrivalled facilities for the
carrying on of an extensive trade; whilst its distance from the coast
is such as to place it, in a great measure, beyond reach of insult from
an enemy. Such an assertion, coming from one who has just detailed the
particulars of its capture, may, indeed, appear to partake not slightly
of the nature of a paradox; but there is no denying that the fall of
Washington ought to be attributed much more to the misconduct of the
Americans themselves, than to the skill or enterprise of those who
effected it. Had the emergency been contemplated, and in a proper
manner provided against, or had the most moderate ingenuity and courage
been displayed in retarding the progress of our troops, the design, if
formed at all, would have been either abandoned immediately, or must
have ended in the total destruction of the invaders.

Like other infant towns, Washington is but little ornamented with fine
buildings; except the Senate-house, I really know of none worthy to be
noticed. This however is, or rather was, an edifice of some beauty. It
stood, where its ruins now stand, upon a mound called the Capitol Hill,
and near a trifling stream named the Tiber; from which circumstances
these modern republicans are led to flatter themselves that the days
are coming when it will rival in power and grandeur the Senate-house of
ancient Rome herself. It was built entirely of freestone, tastefully
worked and highly polished; and, besides its numerous windows, was
lighted from the top by a large and handsome cupola. Perhaps it could
not be said to belong to any decided style of architecture; but its
central appearance was light, airy, and elegant. After traversing a
wide and spacious entrance-hall, you arrived at the foot of a handsome
spiral hanging staircase; on the right of which were two spacious
apartments, one above the other, which were occupied as sitting
chambers by the two houses of representatives. From these branched off
several smaller rooms, fitted up as offices, and probably used as such
by the various officers of state. On the right of the staircase, again,
were two other apartments equal in size to those on the left, with a
like number of smaller rooms branching off from them. These were
furnished as a public library, the two larger being well stocked with
valuable books, principally in modern languages, whilst the others,
filled with archives, national statutes, acts of legislature, &c., were
used as the private rooms of the librarians.

The President’s house, on the other hand, though likewise a public
building, was remarkable for nothing except the absence of taste
exhibited in its structure. It was small, incommodious, and plain; in
no respect likely to excite the jealousy of a people peculiarly averse
to all pomp or parade, even in their chief magistrate. Besides these,
there were also a custom-house, several banking-houses, and a school or
college, all claiming to themselves the destruction of public works;
but in them there was a plainness amounting almost to coarseness, and a
general air of republicanism, by no means imposing. With respect to the
number of inhabitants which Washington contained, I confess that I
cannot pretend to give an opinion: but if any judgment may be formed
from the extent of ground covered by what is considered as the town, I
should say that they amounted to somewhere about sixty thousand. George
Town, the quarter where the President’s house stood, is compact and
regular, containing, I should conceive, at least twenty thousand souls
within itself; nor can the population of the other quarters be
estimated at less than double that number.

Such was then the city of Washington, of which our hasty and unfriendly
visit did not allow us to take a very minute survey. I return now to
the movements of the British army.

I have stated above that our troops were this day kept as much together
as possible upon the Capitol Hill. But it was not alone on account of
the completion of their destructive labours that this was done. A
powerful army of Americans already began to show themselves upon some
heights, at the distance of two or three miles from the city; and as
they sent out detachments of horse even to the very suburbs, for the
purpose of watching our motions, it would have been unsafe to permit
more straggling than was absolutely necessary. The army which we had
overthrown the day before, though defeated, was far from annihilated;
it had by this time recovered its panic, began to concentrate itself in
our front, and presented quite as formidable an appearance as ever. We
learnt, also, that it was joined by a considerable force from the back
settlements, which had arrived too late to take part in the action, and
the report was, that both combined amounted to nearly twelve thousand
men.

Whether or not it was their intention to attack, I cannot pretend to
say, because it was noon before they showed themselves; and soon after,
when something like a movement could be discerned in their ranks, the
sky grew suddenly dark, and the most tremendous hurricane ever
remembered by the oldest inhabitant in the place came on. Of the
prodigious force of the wind it is impossible for one who was not an
eye-witness to its effects to form a conception. Roofs of houses were
torn off by it, and whirled into the air like sheets of paper; whilst
the rain which accompanied it resembled the rushing of a mighty
cataract rather than the dropping of a shower. The darkness was as
great as if the sun had long set, and the last remains of twilight had
come on, occasionally relieved by flashes of vivid lightning streaming
through it; which, together with the noise of the wind and the thunder,
the crash of falling buildings, and the tearing of roofs as they were
stript from the walls, produced the most appalling effect I ever have,
and probably ever shall, witness. The storm lasted for nearly two hours
without intermission, during which time many of the houses spared by us
were blown down, and thirty of our men, besides several of the
inhabitants, buried beneath their ruins. Our column was as completely
dispersed as if it had received a total defeat; some of the men flying
for shelter behind walls and buildings, and others falling flat upon
the ground, to prevent themselves from being carried away by the
tempest; nay, such was the violence of the wind, that two pieces of
light cannon, which stood upon the eminence, were fairly lifted from
the ground, and borne several yards to the rear.




CHAPTER XI.


When the hurricane had blown over, the camp of the Americans appeared
to be in as great a state of confusion as our own; nor could either
party recover themselves sufficiently during the rest of the day to try
the fortune of a battle. Of this General Ross did not fail to take
advantage. He had already attained all that he could hope, and perhaps
more than he originally expected to attain; consequently, to risk
another action would only be to spill blood for no purpose. Whatever
might be the issue of the contest, he could derive from it no
advantage. If he were victorious, it would not do away with the
necessity which existed of evacuating Washington; if defeated, his ruin
was certain. To avoid fighting was therefore his object, and perhaps he
owed its accomplishment to the fortunate occurrence of the storm. Be
that, however, as it may, a retreat was resolved upon; and we now only
waited for night, to put the resolution into practice.

There was, however, one difficulty to be surmounted in this proceeding.
Of the wounded, many were so ill as to preclude all possibility of
their removal, and to leave them in the hands of an enemy whom we had
beaten was rather a mortifying anticipation. But for this there was no
help; and it now only remained to make the best arrangements for their
comfort, and to secure for them, as far as could be done, civil
treatment from the Americans.

It chanced that, among other prisoners taken at Bladensburg, was
Commodore Barney, an American officer of much gallantry and high sense
of honour. Being himself wounded, he was the more likely to feel for
those who were in a similar condition, and having received the kindest
treatment from our medical attendants, as long as he continued under
their hands, he became, without solicitation, the friend of his
fellow-sufferers. To him, as well as to the other prisoners, was given
his parole, and to his care were our wounded, in a peculiar manner,
intrusted,—a trust which he received with the utmost willingness, and
discharged with the most praiseworthy exactness. Among other
stipulations, it was agreed that such of our people as were left behind
should be considered as prisoners of war, and should be restored to us
as soon as they were able to travel; and that, as soon as they reached
the ships, the Commodore and his countrymen would, in exchange, be
released from their engagements.

As soon as these arrangements were completed, and darkness had come on,
the third brigade, which was posted in the rear of our army, began to
withdraw. Then followed the guns, afterwards the second, and last of
all the light brigade, exactly reversing the order which had been
maintained during the advance. Instead of an advanced guard, this last
now furnished a party to cover the retreat, and the whole procession
was closed by the mounted drivers.

It being a matter of great importance to deceive the enemy and to
prevent pursuit, the rear of the column did not quit its ground upon
the Capitol till a late hour. During the day an order had been issued
that none of the inhabitants should be seen in the streets after eight
o’clock; and as fear renders most men obedient, the order was
punctually attended to. All the horses belonging to different officers
were removed to drag the guns, no one being allowed to ride, lest a
neigh, or even the trampling of hoofs, should excite suspicion. The
fires were trimmed, and made to blaze brightly; fuel enough was left to
keep them so for some hours; and finally, about half-past nine o’clock
the troops formed in marching order, and moved off in the most profound
silence. Not a word was spoken, nor a single individual permitted to
step one inch out of his place, by which means they passed along the
streets perfectly unnoticed, and cleared the town without any alarm
being given. Our pace, it will be imagined, was none of the most tardy,
consequently it was not long before we reached the ground which had
been occupied by the other brigades. Here we found a second line of
fires blazing in the same manner as those deserted by ourselves; and
the same precautions in every respect adopted, to induce a belief that
our army was still quiet.—Beyond these, again, we found two or three
solitary fires, placed in such order as to resemble those of a chain of
piquets. In a word, the deception was so well managed, that even we
ourselves were at first doubtful whether the rest of the troops had
fallen back.

When we reached the ground where yesterday’s battle had been fought,
the moon rose, and exhibited a spectacle by no means enlivening.—The
dead were still unburied, and lay about in every direction completely
naked. They had been stripped even of their shirts, and having been
exposed in this state to the violent rain in the morning, they appeared
to be bleached to a most unnatural degree of whiteness. The heat and
rain together had likewise affected them in a different manner; and the
smell which rose upon the night air was horrible.

There is something in such a scene as this extremely humbling, and
repugnant to the feelings of human nature. During the agitation of a
battle, it is nothing to see men fall in hundreds by your side. You may
look at them, perhaps, for an instant, but you do so almost without
being yourself aware of it, so completely are your thoughts carried
away by the excitation of the moment and the shouts of your
companions.—But when you come to view the dead in an hour of calmness,
stripped as they generally are, you cannot help remembering how frail
may have been the covering which saved yourself from being the
loathsome thing on which you are now gazing.—For myself, I confess that
these reflections rose within my mind on the present occasion; and if
any one should say that, similarly situated, they would not rise in
his, I should give him no credit for a superior degree of courage,
though I might be inclined to despise him for his want of the common
feelings of a reasonable being.

BLADENSBURG.

In Bladensburg the brigade halted for an hour, while those men who had
thrown away their knapsacks endeavoured to recover them. During this
interval I strolled up to a house which had been converted into an
hospital, and paid a hasty visit to the wounded. I found them in great
pain, and some of them deeply affected at the thought of being
abandoned by their comrades, and left to the mercy of their enemies.
Yet, in their apprehension of evil treatment from the Americans, the
event proved that they had done injustice to that people; who were
found to possess at least one generous trait in their character,
namely, that of behaving kindly and attentively to their prisoners.

As soon as the stragglers had returned to their ranks, we again moved
on, continuing to march without once stopping to rest during the whole
of the night. Of the fatigue of a night march none but those who have
experienced it can form the smallest conception. Oppressed with the
most intolerable drowsiness, we were absolutely dozing upon our legs;
and if any check at the head of the column caused a momentary delay,
the road was instantly covered with men fast asleep. It is generally
acknowledged that no inclination is so difficult to resist as the
inclination to sleep; but when you are compelled not only to bear up
against that, but to struggle also with weariness, and to walk at the
same time, it is scarcely possible to hold out long. By seven o’clock
in the morning, it was found absolutely necessary to pause, because
numbers had already fallen behind, and numbers more were ready to
follow their example; when throwing ourselves upon the ground, almost
in the same order in which we had marched, in less than five minutes
there was not a single unclosed eye throughout the whole brigade.
Piquets were of course stationed, and sentinels placed, to whom no rest
was granted, but, except these, the entire army resembled a heap of
dead bodies on a field of battle, rather than living men.

ARLBOROUGH

In this situation we remained till noon, when we were again roused to
continue the retreat. Though the sun was oppressively powerful, we
moved on without resting till dark, when having arrived at our old
position near Marlborough, we halted for the night. During this day’s
march we were joined by numbers of negro slaves, who implored us to
take them along with us, offering to serve either as soldiers or
sailors, if we would but give them their liberty; but as General Ross
persisted in protecting private property of every description, few of
them were fortunate enough to obtain their wishes.

We had now proceeded a distance of thirty-five miles, and began to
consider ourselves beyond the danger of pursuit. The remainder of the
retreat was accordingly conducted with more leisure; our next march
carrying us no farther than to Nottingham, where we remained during an
entire day, for the purpose of resting the troops. It cannot, however,
be said that this resting-time was spent in idleness. A gun-brig, with
a number of ships’ launches and long-boats, had made their way up the
stream, and were at anchor opposite to the town. On board the former
were carried such of the wounded as had been able to travel, whilst the
latter were loaded with flour and tobacco, the only spoil which we
found it practicable to bring off.

Whilst the infantry were thus employed, the cavalry was sent back as
far as Marlborough, to discover whether there were any American forces
in pursuit; and it was well for the few stragglers who had been left
behind that this recognizance was made. Though there appeared to be no
disposition on the part of the American General to follow our steps and
to harass the retreat, the inhabitants of that village, at the
instigation of a medical practitioner called Bain, bad risen in arms as
soon as we departed; and falling upon such individuals as strayed from
the column, put some of them to death, and made others prisoners. A
soldier whom they had taken, and who had escaped, gave information of
these proceedings to the troopers, just as they were about to return to
head-quarters; upon which they immediately wheeled about, and galloping
into the village, pulled the doctor out of his bed (for it was early in
the morning), compelled him, by a threat of instant death, to liberate
his prisoners; and mounting him before one of the party, brought him in
triumph to the camp.

ST. BENEDICT’S.

The wounded, the artillery, and plunder, being all embarked on the
28th, at daybreak on the 29th we took the direction of St. Benedict’s,
where we arrived, without any adventure, at a late hour in the evening.
Here we again occupied the ground of which we had taken possession on
first landing, passing the night in perfect quiet; and next day, the
boats of the fleet being ready to receive us, the regiments, one by
one, marched down to the beach. We found the shore covered with sailors
from the different ships of war, who welcomed our arrival with loud
cheers; and having contrived to bring up a larger flotilla than had
been employed in the disembarkation, they removed us within a few
hours, and without the occurrence of any accident, to our respective
vessels.

Such is a plain impartial account of the inroad upon Washington, an
affair than which the whole war produced none more brilliant or more
daring. In whatever light we may regard it, whether we look to the
amount of difficulties which it behoved him to overcome, the inadequacy
of the force which he commanded, or the distance which he was called
upon to march, in the midst of a hostile population, and through deep
and trackless forests, we cannot deny to General Ross the praise which
is his due, of having planned and successfully accomplished an
expedition which none but a sagacious mind could have devised, and none
but a gallant spirit carried into execution. Among the many important
transactions which then occupied the public attention, the campaign at
Washington was, I believe, but little spoken of; and even now, it is
overwhelmed in the recollections of the all-engrossing Waterloo; but
the time will probably come, when he who at the head of four thousand
men penetrated upwards of sixty miles into an enemy’s country;
overthrew an army more than double his own in point of numbers; took
possession of the capital of a great nation, and having held it as long
as it suited his own purposes to hold it, returned again in triumph to
his fleet, will be ranked, as he deserves to be ranked, among the
number of those who have most successfully contributed to elevate Great
Britain to the height of military glory on which she now stands.

It has been said that the entire merit of this brilliant expedition is
due, not so much to the brave man who conducted it, as to Sir George
Cockburn, at whose suggestion it was undertaken. To the great gallantry
and high talents of Sir George Cockburn no one who served within the
compass of the Bay of Chesapeake will refuse to bear testimony, nor is
it improbable that in attributing to him the original, design of laying
Washington itself under contribution, common report speaks truly. But
with whomsoever the idea first originated, to General Ross belongs the
undivided of having, carried it into effect. From Sir George Cockburn,
and indeed from the whole fleet, the army received every assistance
which it was in the power of the the fleet to bestow; but had no Ross
been at the head of the land forces, the capital of the United States
would have suffered no insult. I have ventured to make these remarks,
not with any design of taking away, in the slightest degree, from the
well-earned reputation of the living; but merely as an act of justice
towards the memory of the gallant dead, whose services have hardly
received all the notice, either from the Government or the country,
which they deserved.

Of the degree of military sagacity exhibited on both sides, during the
progress of hostilities, it scarcely becomes me to speak. Perhaps our
leader delayed something too long in making, up his mind as to the
ultimate end to be pursued, after the troop had penetrated so far into
the interior as Marlborough. Had he pushed on at once, it is barely
possible that Washington might have fallen at a less expense of human
life than actually occurred. Perhaps, too, he commenced the attack at
Bladensburg with a degree of precipitancy which hindered him from,
taking advantage of an open ford, and compelled him to expose his
troops to the fire of the enemy’s artillery whilst crossing a narrow
bridge in a single column. But these errors, if errors they may be
termed, were amply compensated by the perfect success of his
operations; whilst in every other particular his conduct was beyond the
reach of censure. In his choice of ground for halting, in the order
both of his advance and retreat, and in the rapidity of his movements
as soon as his plans had been arranged, General Ross exhibited himself
in the light of an able and diligent commander. No man could possess,
more than he a soldier’s eye in examining the face of a country; and in
what little manoeuvring the circumstances permitted, he displayed the
proficiency of one well practised in the arts of campaigning. It will
be recollected, that on the 23rd, the day previous to the battle, we
fell in with a strong body of the enemy, to deceive whom we wheeled off
from the main road, and took the direction of Alexandria. The plan was
attended by the most perfect success; the party deceived, being in fact
the advanced guard of the main army. Thinking that Alexandria, and not
Washington, was threatened, the American General abandoned a strong
position, which he had seized on the main road, harassed his troops by
a needless march towards that town; and discovered his mistake only
time enough to occupy the heights of Bladensburg a very few minutes
before we came in sight.

With respect to the Americans, again, criticism necessarily degenerates
into unqualified censure. From the beginning to the end of the affair,
they acted in no one instance like prudent or sagacious men. In the
first place, they ought on no account to have risked a general action
in an open country, however strong and steep; and, secondly, they
deserved to suffer much more severely than they did suffer, for
permitting an enemy’s army to penetrate beyond Nottingham. In allowing
us to land without opposition, they were perhaps guilty of no great
mistake; but having done so, instead of concentrating their forces in
one place, they ought to have harassed us with continual skirmishing;
felled trees on each side, and thrown them across the road; dug deep
ditches at certain intervals; in a word, it was their wisdom to adopt
the mode of warfare to which their own habits, as, well as the nature
of their country, invited them.

In America, every man is a marksman from his very boyhood, and every
man serves in the militia; but to bring an army of raw militia-men,
however excellent they might be as marksmen, into a fair field against
regular troops, could end in nothing but defeat. When two lines oppose
each other, very little depends upon the accuracy with which
individuals take aim. It is then that the habit of acting in concert,
the confidence which each man feels in his companions, and the rapidity
and good order in which different movements can be executed, are alone
of real service. But put these raw militia-men into thick woods, and
send your regular troops to drive them out, and you will immediately
lose all the advantages of discipline, and reduce your battle to so
many single combats.

Here, therefore, lay their principal error: had they left all clear,
and Permitted us to advance as far as Nottingham, then broken up the
roads, and covered them with trees, it would have been impossible for
us to go a step beyond. As soon as this was effected, they might have
skirmished with us in front, and kept our attention alive with part of
their troops, till the rest, acquainted as they doubtless were with
every inch of the country, had got into our rear, and, by a similar
mode of proceeding, cut off our retreat. Thus we should have been taken
in a snare, from which it would have been no easy task to extricate
ourselves, and might, perhaps, have been obliged in the end to
surrender at discretion.

But so obvious and so natural a plan of defence they chose to reject
and determining to trust all to the fate of a battle, they were guilty
of a monstrous error again. Bladensburg ought not to have been left
unoccupied. The most open village, if resolutely defended, will cost
many men before it falls; whereas Bladensburg, being composed of
substantial brick houses, might have been maintained for hours against
all our efforts. In the next place, they displayed great want of
military knowledge in the disposition of both their infantry and
artillery. There was not, in the whole space of their position, a
single point where an enemy would be exposed to a cross fire. The
troops were drawn up in three straight lines, like so many regiments
upon a gala parade; whilst the guns were used as connecting links to a
chain, being posted in the same order, by ones and twos, at every
interval.

In maintaining themselves, likewise, when attacked, they exhibited
neither skill nor resolution. Of the personal courage of the Americans
there can be no doubt; they are, individually taken, as brave a nation
as any in the world. But they are not soldiers; they have not the
experience nor the habits of soldiers. It was the height of folly,
therefore, to bring them into a situation where nothing except that
experience and those habits will avail; and it is on this account that
I repeat what I have already said, that the capture of Washington was
more owing to the blindness of the Americans themselves than to any
other cause.




CHAPTER XII.

ALEXANDRIA


Whilst the army was thus actively employed, the fleet did not remain
idle. A squadron of frigates, with two bomb-ships, under the command of
Captain Gordon, of the Sea-horse, penetrated up the Potomac, and
appeared before Alexandria. The whole of the militia of the district
was at this time called away for the defence of the capital,
consequently no place could be less prepared to resist an invader than
that city. A party accordingly landed from the ships without
opposition, and having destroyed the barracks, public works, and all
the cannon which they found on shore, they seized a number of schooners
and other small craft then lying in the harbour, and loading them with
flour and tobacco to a considerable amount, prepared to rejoin the
fleet in the bay.

But by this time the country was alarmed; a detachment was sent from
the main army, and being joined by the reserve of militia, it was
determined to intercept the squadron on its return. With this view,
several pieces of heavy cannon were mounted upon a steep part of the
bank, where the river, in making an angle, narrows considerably in its
channel. Thither also hastened large bodies of infantry; and before the
frigates had begun to weigh anchor nearly 5000 men were assembled to
prevent their passage.

Of these preparations Captain Gordon did not long remain ignorant; nor
was he backward in making the best arrangements possible to meet the
danger. By shifting the ballast in each of the vessels entirely to one
side, he caused them to lean in such a manner as that their artillery
could be elevated to a surprising degree, and the shot rise even to the
summit of the hill. The guns were then stuffed, rather than loaded,
with grape and musket-balls; and the ships, taking their stations
according to their draft of water, the lightest keeping nearest to the
enemy’s shore, set sail, and, favoured by a leading breeze, stood
leisurely down the river.

As soon as they arrived within tangible distance, a brisk cannonade was
opened upon them from the heights, and the whole of the infantry
appeared in line along, the brow of the eminence. Regardless of these
formidable salutations, the ships continued to hold their course
without changing their order or returning a shot, till they reached the
base of the hill upon which the infantry stood, and received a volley
of musketry into their decks. Then, indeed, they answered the fire; and
with such effect, that at the first broadside the enemy’s guns were
abandoned, and their infantry took to flight. The Americans had
persuaded themselves that no ship could point her guns so as to sweep
the top of the hill; and under this idea had drawn up their troops
along the ridge, with the intention of overawing the squadron by a
display of their numbers. But in the event they found themselves
mistaken, for so well had Captain Gordon arranged matters, that not a
single shot fell under its mark; and as the ships’ artillery had been
loaded for the occasion, a shower of balls of every size and
description came amongst them, such as it was impossible to withstand.
A single broadside was sufficient to secure the safe passage of his
squadron; but with this Captain Gordon was not contented. Seeing the
enemy driven from their cannon, he immediately landed his marines,
spiked the guns, and blew up the expense magazines; when, having
received them all safely on board again, he continued his voyage, and
regained the Chesapeake without further molestation.

Nor was this the only operation in which the navy were employed.
Cruising about in every direction, they threatened the whole line of
coast, from the entrance to the very bend of the bay; and thus kept the
Americans in a constant state of alarm. Whenever a favourable
opportunity presented itself, parties landed, plundered or destroyed
the Government stores, laid towns and districts under contribution, and
brought off all the shipping which could be reached. In a word, the
hostilities carried on in the Chesapeake resembled the expeditions of
the ancient Danes against Great Britain, rather than a modern war
between civilized nations. But these hasty excursions, though generally
successful, were not always performed without loss to the invaders.
Many men and some officers were killed and wounded, among whom was
Captain Sir Peter Parker, of the Menelaus frigate, an officer
distinguished for his gallantry and knowledge of naval tactics. Having
learnt that an encampment of 300 men and six pieces of cannon had been
formed, at the distance of a few miles from the banks of the Potomac,
and about nine leagues below Alexandria, he determined, with part of
his ship’s crew, to surprise it, and to capture the guns. Running his
frigate with this view up the river, he cast anchor opposite to the
place where the American forces lay; and leaving on board only a
sufficient number of sailors to manage the ship, and to guard against
surprise, with the rest, amounting to 200 seamen and marines, he
landed, and marched rapidly towards the enemy’s camp. But intelligence
of his proceedings had already reached them; patrols of horse hovering
continually along the coast for the purpose of watching the motions of
our fleet. When, therefore, he arrived at the point of destination, he
found the bivouac deserted, and the rear-guard in full retreat. With
these a little skirmishing ensued, and he received a rifle-ball in the
thigh. Not suspecting that the wound was dangerous, he continued to
push forward, till he fell exhausted from loss of blood; when, on
examining the hurt, it was found that the femoral artery had been cut;
and before any proper assistance could be afforded, he literally bled
to death. Seeing their leader killed, and the enemy retiring,
apparently with the design of drawing them away from the coast, the
sailors now halted; and taking up their dead commander, returned to the
river without being able to effect anything which might, in any degree,
console them for their loss.

THE PATUXENT.

In the meantime the army continued, for some days, quietly on board the
ships in the Patuxent. The wounded whose cases appeared most desperate
were removed to vessels fitted up for their reception, and sailed, some
for Halifax, and others for England. The dispatches were likewise made
out and sent off in the Iphigenia, whilst a sort of breathing-time was
given to those who had been of late so actively employed. Whilst this
sabbath continued, I amused myself by landing; and under the pretext of
shooting, strolled sometimes farther up the country than prudence
exactly warranted. The houses and villas, upon the immediate banks of
the river, I found universally deserted, and thoroughly plundered. The
corn, however, was uninjured; and even flocks of sheep were seen
grazing within a short distance of the water, protected only by negro
slaves. Of these none were taken without an equivalent being as
faithfully paid as if they had been sold in the market-place of New
York; a circumstance which favoured the belief that the houses had been
ransacked, not by the British troops, but by the inhabitants
themselves. Whether it was really so or not I cannot say, but this I
know, that from the time of our arrival in the Chesapeake, all acts of
individual plunder or violence were strictly prohibited, and severely
punished.

But this appearance of ruin and desertion extended not more than a mile
or two from the coast. Beyond that, I found the cottages occupied by
their owners, and everything remaining as if no enemy were within a
hundred miles. The young men, indeed, were generally absent, because
every man fit to bear arms was now serving with the army; but the old
men and the women seemed to live as comfortably as if the most profound
peace had reigned throughout the State. Nor did I find them altogether
so hostile to our interest as I had expected. They professed to be
Federalists; and though they regretted the events of the war, they
blamed their own rulers for its commencement. Tempted by this show of
quietness, I one day continued my walk to a greater distance from the
fleet than I had yet ventured to do. My servant was with me, but had no
arms, and I was armed only with a double-barrelled fowling-piece.
Having wearied myself with looking for game, and penetrated beyond my
former landmarks, I came suddenly upon a small hamlet, occupying a
piece of cleared ground in the very heart of a thick wood. With this,
to confess the truth, I was by no means delighted, more especially as I
perceived two stout-looking men sitting at the door of one of the
cottages. To retire unobserved was, however, impossible, because the
rustling which I had made among the trees attracted their attention,
and they saw me; probably, before I had seen them. Perceiving that
their eyes were fixed upon me, I determined to put a bold face upon the
matter; and calling aloud, as if to a party to halt, I advanced, with
my servant, towards them. They were dressed in sailors’ jackets and
trowsers, and rose on my approach, taking off their hats with much
civility. On joining them, I demanded to be informed whether they were
not Englishmen, and deserters from the fleet, stating that I was in
search of two persons very much answering their description. They
assured me that they were Americans, and no deserters, begging that I
would not take them away; a request to which, after some time, I
assented. They then conducted me into the house, where I found an old
man and three women, who entertained me with bread, cheese, and new
milk. While I was sitting here, a third youth, in the dress of a
labourer, entered, and whispered to one of the sailors, who immediately
rose to go out, but I commanded him to sit still, declaring that I was
not satisfied, and should certainly arrest him if he attempted to
escape. The man sat down sulkily; and the young labourer coming
forward, begged permission to examine my gun. This was a request which
I did not much relish, and with which I, of course, refused to comply;
telling the fellow that it was loaded, and that I was unwilling to
trust it out of my own band, on account of a weakness in one of the
locks.

I had now kept up appearances as long as they could be kept up, and
therefore rose to withdraw; a measure to which I was additionally
induced by the appearance of two other countrymen at the opposite end
of the hamlet. I therefore told the sailors that, if they would pledge
themselves to remain quietly at home, without joining the American
army, I would not molest them; warning them, at the same time, not to
venture beyond the village, lest they should fall into the hands of
other parties, who were also in search of deserters. The promise they
gave, but not with much alacrity, when I rose, and keeping my eye fixed
upon them, and my gun ready cocked in my hand, walked out, followed by
my servant. They conducted us to the door, and stood staring after us
till we got to the edge of the wood; when I observed them moving
towards their countrymen, who also gazed upon us, without either
advancing or flying. The reader will readily believe, that as soon as
we found ourselves concealed by the trees, we lost no time in
endeavouring to discover the direct way towards the shipping; but
plunging into the thickets, ran with all speed, without thinking of
aught except an immediate escape from pursuit. Whether the Americans
did attempt to follow, or not, I cannot tell. If they did, they took a
wrong direction, for in something more than an hour I found myself at
the edge of the river, a little way above the shipping, and returned
safely on board, fully resolved not again, to expose myself to such
risks, without necessity.

THE PATAPSCO.

In this manner the time was spent till daybreak on the 6th of
September, when the whole fleet got under weigh, and stood towards the
Chesapeake. The wind was fair, and we speedily cleared the river; but
instead of standing up the bay, as we had expected, we ran down a few
miles below the mouth of the Patuxent, and there anchored. A signal was
then made by telegraph for all ships to send in a return of the number
of seamen whom, in addition to marines, they could land with
small-arms. Every ship’s crew was accordingly mustered, and it was
found that, besides the numbers necessary for conveying stores and
dragging guns, one thousand sailors could be spared from the fleet.
Thus, in spite of our loss at Bladensburg, we were enabled on our next
debarkation to bring into the field about five thousand fighting men.

Next morning we again weighed, and directed our course towards the
Potomac. We entered this river soon after midday, and continued to stem
the stream during the night, and till dusk on the following evening,
when we again brought up. Here we were joined by Admiral Cockburn, who
had quitted the anchorage some days before the rest of the fleet, with
a large flotilla of prizes and small craft; and having on the 9th once
more set sail, and steered for a few hours in the direction of
Alexandria, we suddenly put about, and, favoured by a fresh breeze, ran
down to the bay, turning our heads upwards towards the Patapsco.
Baltimore, it was now understood, was the point of attack; and towards
the river upon which that town is built we hastened under a heavy press
of sail.

The object of this manoeuvring was evidently to deceive the enemy, and
by keeping him in suspense as to the place threatened, to prevent his
concentrating his forces, or throwing up works for its defence. But in
the attainment of our object, the event proved that we were but
partially successful. Certain it is, however, that the utmost
consternation prevailed in every town or village opposite to which we
made our appearance. In passing Anapolis, a considerable town built
upon the bay, and possessing a tolerable harbour, we stood in so close
as to discern the inhabitants flying from their houses; carts and
waggons loaded with furniture hurrying along the roads, and horsemen
galloping along the shore, as if watching the fearful moment when the
boats should be hoisted out, and the troops quit the vessels. Wherever
a lighthouse or signal station was erected, alarm-guns were fired and
beacons lighted. In a word, all the horrors of doubt and apprehension
seemed to oppress the inhabitants of this devoted district.

The fair wind continuing to blow without interruption, on the 11th we
came in sight of the projecting headland, where it was designed to
disembark the troops. It was a promontory washed by the Patapsco on one
side, and a curvature of the bay itself on the other. It was determined
to land here, rather than to ascend the river, because the Patapsco,
though broad, is far from deep. It is, in fact, too shallow to admit a
line-of-battle ship; and, as no one could guess what impediments might
be thrown in the way to obstruct the navigation, prudence forbade that
five thousand men should be intrusted to the convoy of the smaller
vessels alone. Besides, the distance from the point to Baltimore did
not exceed fourteen or fifteen miles, a space which might easily be
traversed in a day.

But while the land forces moved in this direction upon Baltimore, it
was resolved that the frigates and bomb-ships should endeavour to force
their way through every obstacle, and to obtain possession of the
navigation of the river, so as, if possible, to co-operate with the
army by bombarding the place from the water. A frigate was accordingly
dispatched to try the depth, and to take soundings of the channel,
whilst the remainder of the fleet came to an anchor off the point. In
the meantime all was again bustle and preparation on board the
troop-ships and transports. Three days’ provisions were cooked, as
before, and given to the men; and as we were now to carry everything by
a coup-de-main, twenty rounds of ammunition were added to the sixty
with which soldiers are usually loaded; whilst a smaller quantity of
other baggage was directed to be taken on shore. A blanket, with a
spare shirt and pair of shoes, was considered enough for each man on an
expedition of so rapid a nature; whilst brushes and other articles of
that description were divided between comrades, one carrying what would
suffice for both. Thus the additional load of twenty cartridges was
more than counterbalanced by the clothing and necessaries left behind.

It was dusk when we reached the anchorage, consequently no landing
could take place before the morrow. But as the boats were ordered to be
in readiness at dawn, every man slept in his clothes, that he might be
prepared to start at a moment’s warning. There was something in this
state of preparation at once solemn and exciting. That we should obtain
possession of a place so important as Baltimore without fighting was
not to be expected; and, therefore, this arming and this bustle seemed
in fact to be the prelude to a battle. But no man of the smallest
reflection can look forward to the chance of a sudden and violent death
without experiencing sensations very different from those which he
experiences under any other circumstances. When the battle has fairly
begun, I may say with truth that the feelings of those engaged are
delightful; because they are in fact so many gamblers playing for the
highest stake that can be offered. But the stir and noise of equipping,
and then the calmness and stillness of expectation, these are the
things which force a man to think. On the other hand, the warlike
appearance of everything about you, the careless faces and rude jokes
of the private soldiers, and something within yourself, which I can
compare to nothing more seemly than the mirth which criminals are said
sometimes to experience and to express previous to their execution; all
these combine to give you a degree of false hilarity, I had almost said
painful from its very excess. It is an agitation of the nerves, such as
we may suppose madmen feel, which you are inclined to wish removed,
though you are not unwilling to admit that it is agreeable.

And yet, as if in mockery of these deadly preparations, I do not
recollect to have seen a more heavenly night than the present. The heat
of the day was past, a full clear moon shone brightly in a sky where
not a cloud could be discerned, and a heavy dew falling appeared to
refresh the earth, which had been parched and burnt up by the sun. We
lay at this time within two miles of the shore, consequently every
object there was distinctly visible. Around us were moored numerous
ships, which, breaking the tide as it flowed gently onwards, produced a
ceaseless murmur like the gushing of a mountain stream. The voices of
the sentinels too, as they relieved one another on the decks, and the
occasional splash of oars, as a solitary boat rowed backwards and
forwards to the Admiral’s ship for orders, sounded peculiarly musical
in the perfect stillness of a calm night. Though I am far from giving
the preference, in all respects, to a sailor’s life, it must
nevertheless be confessed that it has in it many moments of exquisite
enjoyment, and the present seemed to me to be of the number.




CHAPTER XIII.

MARCH


But the stillness of night soon passed away, and at three o’clock in
the morning every ship in the fleet began to lower her boats, and the
soldiers were roused from their slumbers. The same precautions which
had been formerly used to cover the landing were again adopted, several
gun-brigs laying themselves within cable’s length of the beach, and the
leading boats in every division being armed with carronades, loaded and
ready for action. But, as had been the case at St. Benedict’s, they
were unnecessary, for the troops reached the shore without opposition,
and leisurely formed in an open field close to the river.

It was seven o’clock before the whole army was disembarked and in order
for marching. The same arrangements which had been made on the late
expedition were, as far as circumstances would permit, again adopted on
this. The light brigade, now commanded by Major Jones of the 4th
regiment, led the advance; then followed the artillery, amounting to
six field-pieces and two howitzers, all of them drawn by horses; next
came the second brigade, then the sailors, and last of all the third
brigade. Flank patrols and reconnoitring parties were likewise sent
out; in short, the same admirable dispositions regulated the present
march which had governed our march to Washington.

The column being put in motion, advanced, without the occurrence of any
incident deserving of notice, for about an hour, when it arrived at a
piece of ground which appeared as if it had been lately in possession
of the enemy. It was a narrow neck of land, confined between the river
on one side, and the head of a creek on the other, measuring, perhaps,
a mile across. From the river to the creek a breastwork had been begun,
and was partly completed. In front of it there were lines drawn,
apparently for the purpose of marking out the width of a ditch; in some
places the ditch itself was dug, and the commencement of what resembled
an enfilading battery in the centre, showed that a considerable degree
of science had been displayed in the choice of this spot as a military
position. And, in truth, it was altogether such a position as, if
completed, might have been maintained by a determined force against
very superior numbers. Both flanks were completely protected, not only
by water, but by thick wood, while a gentle eminence in the very middle
of the line offered the most desirable situation for the projecting
battery which had been begun; because a fire from it would have swept
the whole, both to the right and left. In its present state, however,
it was untenable, unless by a force as able to attack as to defend;
consequently the Americans, who acted solely on the defensive, did
wisely in choosing another.

But the aspect of the ground was such as led us to conclude that the
enemy could not be very distant. The troops were accordingly halted,
that the rear might be well up, and the men fresh and ready for action.
Whilst this was done part of the flank patrol came in, bringing with
them three light-horse men, as prisoners. These were young gentlemen
belonging to a corps of volunteers, furnished by the town of Baltimore,
who had been sent out to watch our motions, and convey intelligence to
the American General. Being but little accustomed to such service, they
had suffered themselves to be surprised; and, instead of reporting to
their own leader as to the number and dispositions of their
adversaries, they were now catechized by General Ross respecting the
strength and preparations of their friends. From them we learned that a
force of no less than twenty thousand men was embodied for the defence
of Baltimore; but as the accounts of prisoners are generally
over-rated, we took it for granted that they made their report only to
intimidate.

ATTACK

Having rested for the space of an hour, we again moved forward, but had
not proceeded above a mile when a sharp fire of musketry was heard in
front, and shortly afterwards a mounted officer came galloping to the
rear, who desired us to quicken our pace, for that the advanced guard
was engaged. At this intelligence the ranks were closed, and the troops
advanced at a brisk rate, and in profound silence. The firing still
continued, though, from its running and irregular sound, it promised
little else than a skirmish; but whether it was kept up by detached
parties alone, or by the outposts of a regular army, we could not tell;
because, from the quantity of wood with which the country abounded, and
the total absence of all hills or eminences, it was impossible to
discern what was going on at the distance of half a mile from the spot
where we stood.

We were already drawing near to the scene of action, when another
officer came at full speed towards us, with horror and dismay in his
countenance, and calling loudly for a surgeon. Every man felt within
himself that all was not right, though none was willing to believe the
whispers of his own terror. But what at first we would not guess at,
because we dreaded it so much, was soon realized; for the aide-de-camp
had scarcely passed, when the General’s horse, without its rider, and
with the saddle and housings stained with blood, came plunging onwards.
Nor was much time given for fearful surmise as to the extent of our
misfortune. In a few moments we reached the ground where the
skirmishing had taken place, and beheld General Ross laid by the side
of the road, under a canopy of blankets, and apparently in the agonies
of death. As soon as the firing began, he had ridden to the front, that
he might ascertain from whence it originated, and, mingling with the
skirmishers, was shot in the side by a rifleman. The wound was mortal:
he fell into the arms of his aide-de-camp, and lived only long enough
to name his wife, and to commend his family to the protection of his
country. He was removed towards the fleet, but expired before his
bearers could reach the boats.

It is impossible to conceive the effect which this melancholy spectacle
produced throughout the army. By the courteousness and condescension of
his manners, General Ross had secured the absolute love of all who
served under him, from the highest to the lowest; and his success on a
former occasion, as well as his judicious arrangements on the present,
had inspired every one with the most perfect confidence in his
abilities. His very error, if error it may be called, in so young a
leader—I mean that diffidence in himself which had occasioned some loss
of time on the march to Washington, appeared now to have left him. His
movements were at once rapid and cautious; nay, his very countenance
indicated a fixed determination, and a perfect security of success. All
eyes were turned upon him as we passed, and a sort of involuntary groan
ran from rank to rank, from the front to the rear of the column.

By the fall of our gallant leader, the command now devolved upon
Colonel Brook, of the 44th regiment, an officer of decided personal
courage, but, perhaps, better calculated to lead a battalion than to
guide an army. Being informed of his unexpected and undesired
elevation, he came to the front, and under him we continued to move on;
sorrowful, indeed, but not dejected. The skirmishing had now ceased,
for the American riflemen were driven in; and in a few minutes we found
ourselves opposite to a considerable force, drawn up with some skill,
and occupying a strong position. Judging from appearances, I should say
that the corps now opposed to us amounted to six or seven thousand men.
They covered a neck of land, very much resembling that which we had
passed; having both flanks defended by little inland lakes; the whole
of their position was well wooded, and in front of their line was a
range of high palings, similar to those which intersected the field of
Bladensburg. About the centre, though some way advanced, was a
farm-house, with its outbuildings and stack-yard; and near to the right
ran the main road. Their artillery, which could not greatly exceed our
own, either in weight of metal or number of guns, was scattered along
the line of infantry in nearly the same order as had been preserved at
Bladensburg, and their reserve was partly seen, and partly hid by a
thick wood.

The whole of this country is flat and unbroken. About half a mile in
rear of the enemy’s position were some heights, but to occupy these as
they should be occupied would have required a much greater number of
men than the American army could muster. Their General, therefore,
exhibited some judgment in his choice of ground, but, perhaps, he would
have exhibited more had he declined a pitched battle altogether. Yet,
to do him justice, I repeat that the ground was well chosen; for,
besides the covering of wood which he secured for his own people, he
took care to leave open fields in his front; by which means we were of
necessity exposed to a galling fire, as soon as we came within range.
Of one error, however, he was guilty. Either he did not possess himself
of the farm-house at all, or he suffered it to be taken from him with
very little resistance; for on the arrival of the column at the ground
where it was to form, it was in the occupation of our advanced guard.
He was likewise to blame in not filling the wood upon our left with
skirmishers. In short, he acted unwisely in merely attempting to repel
attacks, without ever dreaming that the most effectual mode of so doing
is to turn the tables, and attack the assailants.

As our troops came up they filed off to the right and left, and drew up
just within cannon shot in the following order. The light brigade,
consisting, as I have formerly stated, of the 85th regiment and the
light companies of the other corps, in extended order, threatened the
whole front of the American army. The 21st remained in column upon the
road; the 4th moved off to the right, and advanced through a thicket to
turn the enemy’s left; and the 44th, the seamen and marines, formed
line in rear of the light brigade.

While this formation was going on, the artillery being brought up,
opened upon the American army, and a smart cannonade ensued on both
sides. That our guns were well served I myself can bear witness; for I
saw the Shrapnel shells which were thrown from them strike among the
enemy, and make fearful gaps in the line. Our rockets likewise began to
play, one of which falling short, lighted upon a haystack in the
barn-yard belonging to the farm-house, and immediately set it on fire.
The house itself, the stables, barns, and outhouses, as well as all the
other stacks, one after another caught the flames, and were quickly in
a state of conflagration; and the smoke and blaze which they emitted,
together with the roar of cannon and flashes of the guns, produced
altogether a very fine effect.

In the meantime the American artillery was not idle. Pushing forward
two light field-pieces upon the road, they opened a destructive fire of
grape upon the 21st regiment, and such of the sailors as occupied that
point. Three other guns were directed against our artillery, between
which and several of our pieces a sort of duel was maintained; and the
rest played without ceasing upon the 85th and the light companies, who
had lain down while the other regiments took up their ground. Neither
was their infantry altogether quiet. They marched several strong bodies
from the right to the left, and withdrew others from the left to the
right of their line, though for what end this marching and
countermarching was undertaken I am at a loss to conceive. While thus
fluctuating it was curious to observe their dread of every spot where a
cannon-ball had struck. Having seen the shots fall, I kept my eye upon
one or two places, and perceived that each company as it drew near to
those points hung back; and then assuming as it were a momentary
courage, rushed past, leaving a vacancy between it and the company
which next succeeded.

All this while the whole of our infantry, except the 4th regiment, lay
or stood in anxious expectation of an order to advance. This, however,
was not given till that corps had reached the thicket through which it
was to make its way; when Colonel Brook, with his staff, having
galloped along the line to see that all was ready, commanded the signal
to be made. The charge was accordingly sounded, and echoed back from
every bugle in the army, when, starting from the ground where they had
lain, the troops moved on in a cool and orderly manner. A dreadful
discharge of grape and canister shot, of old locks, pieces of broken
muskets, and everything which they could cram into their guns, was now
sent forth from the whole of the enemy’s artillery, and some loss was
on our side experienced. Regardless of this, our men went on without
either quickening or retarding their pace, till they came within a
hundred yards of the American line. As yet not a musket had been fired,
nor a word spoken on either side, but the enemy, now raising a shout,
fired a volley from right to left, and then kept up a rapid and
ceaseless discharge of musketry. Nor were our people backward in
replying to these salutes; for giving them back both their shout and
their volley, we pushed on at double-quick, with the intention of
bringing them to the charge.

The bayonet is a weapon peculiarly British; at least it is a weapon
which in the hands of a British soldier is irresistible. Though they
maintained themselves with great determination, and stood to receive
our fire till scarcely twenty yards divided us, the Americans would not
hazard a charge. On the left, indeed, where the 21st advanced in
column, it was not without much difficulty and a severe loss that any
attempt to charge could be made; for in that quarter seemed to be the
flower of the enemy’s infantry, as well as the main body of their
artillery; towards the right, however, the day was quickly won. The
only thing to be regretted, indeed, was that the attack had not been
for some time longer deferred; because the Americans were broken and
fled, just as the 4th regiment began to show itself upon the brink of
the water which covered their flank; and before a shallow part could be
discovered, and the troops were enabled to pass, they had time to
escape.

As soon as their left gave way, the whole American army fell into
confusion; nor do I recollect on any occasion to have witnessed a more
complete rout. Infantry, cavalry, and artillery were huddled together,
without the smallest regard to order or regularity. The sole object of
anxiety seemed to be, which should escape first from the field of
battle; insomuch, that numbers were actually trodden down by their
countrymen in the hurry of the flight. Yet, in spite of the short
duration of the action, which lasted little more than two hours from
its first commencement, the enemy’s loss was severe. They stood in some
respects better than at Bladensburg, consequently we were more mingled
with them when they gave way, and were thus enabled to secure some
prisoners, an event which their more immediate flight had on the other
occasion prevented. In the capture of guns, however, we were not so
fortunate. Their pieces being light, and well supplied with horses,
they contrived to carry off all except two; both of which would have
also escaped but for the shooting of the leaders.

I have said that the number of killed and wounded in the American army
was very great; in ours, on the other hand, the casualties were fewer
by far than might have been expected. The 21st and seamen suffered a
good deal, the 85th and light companies a little; but had our gallant
General been spared, we should have pronounced this a glorious, because
a comparatively bloodless day. In the loss of that one man, however, we
felt ourselves more deeply wounded than if the best battalion in the
army had been sacrificed.

In following up the flying enemy the same obstacles which presented
themselves at Bladensburg again came in the way. The thick woods
quickly screened the fugitives, and as even our mounted drivers were
wanting, their horses having been taken for the use of the artillery,
no effectual pursuit could be attempted. We accordingly halted upon the
field of battle, of necessity content with the success which we had
obtained; and having collected the stragglers and called in the
pursuers, it was resolved to pass the night in this situation. Fires
were speedily lighted, and the troops distributed in such a manner as
to secure a tolerable position in case of attack; and the wounded being
removed into two or three houses scattered along the ground, the
victors lay down to sleep under the canopy of heaven.

Having thus given a distinct and connected detail of this affair, I
shall beg leave to finish the present chapter with one or two
anecdotes, which may not be unamusing. It is said that when Admiral
Cockburn, who accompanied the army, and attended General Ross with the
fidelity of an aide-de-camp, was in the wood where the latter fell, he
observed an American rifleman taking deliberate aim at him from behind
a tree. Instead of turning aside, or discharging a pistol at the
fellow, as any other man would have done, the brave Admiral, doubling
his fist, shook it at his enemy, and cried aloud, “O you d—d Yankee,
I’ll give it you!” upon which the man dropped his musket in the
greatest alarm, and took to his heels.

It is likewise told of an officer of engineers, that having overtaken
an American soldier, and demanded his arms, the fellow gave him his
rifle very readily, but being ordered to resign a handsome
silver-hilted dagger and silver-mounted cartouch-box, which graced his
side, he refused to comply, alleging that they were private property,
and that, by our own proclamations, private property should be
respected. This was an instance of low cunning which reminded me of my
own adventure with the squirrel-hunters, and which was attended with
equal success.

One other anecdote, of a different nature, and for the truth of which I
can myself answer, may likewise be related. In strolling over the field
of battle, I came unexpectedly upon a wounded American, who lay among
some bushes with his leg broken. I drew near to offer him assistance,
but on seeing me the wretch screamed out, and appeared in the greatest
alarm; nor was it without some difficulty that I could persuade him he
had nothing to fear. At last, being convinced that I intended him no
harm, the fellow informed me that it was impressed upon the minds of
the American levies that from the British they might expect no quarter;
and that it was consequently their determination to give no quarter to
the British troops. The fellow might belie his countrymen, and I hope
and believe he did, but such was his report to me. To convince him of
the erroneousness of his notions, I removed him to one of our
hospitals, where his leg was amputated; and he saw himself, as well as
many others of his wounded comrades, treated with the same attention
which was bestowed upon our own soldiers.




CHAPTER XIV.


At an early hour on the 13th the troops were roused from their lairs,
and forming upon the ground, waited till daylight should appear. A
heavy rain had come on about midnight, and now fell with so much
violence, that some precautions were necessary, in order to prevent the
firelocks from being rendered useless by wet. Such of the men as were
fortunate enough to possess leathern cases, wrapped them round the
locks of their muskets, whilst the rest held them in the best manner
they could, under their elbows; no man thinking of himself, but only
how he could best keep his arms in a serviceable condition.

As soon as the first glimmering of dawn could be discerned, we moved to
the road, and took up our wonted order of march; but before we pushed
forward, the troops were desired to lighten themselves still further,
by throwing off their blankets, which were to be left under a slender
guard till their return. This was accordingly done; and being now
unencumbered, except by a knapsack almost empty, every man felt his
spirits heightened in proportion to the diminution of his load. The
grief of soldiers is seldom of long duration, and though I will not
exactly say that poor Ross was already forgotten, the success of
yesterday had reconciled at least the privates to the guidance of their
new leader; nor was any other issue anticipated than what would have
attended the excursion had he still been its mainspring and director.

The country through which we passed resembled, in every particular,
that already described. Wood and cultivation succeeded each other at
intervals, though the former surpassed the latter in tenfold extent;
but instead of deserted villages and empty houses, which had met us on
the way to Washington, we found most of the inhabitants remaining
peaceably in their homes, and relying upon the assurance of protection
given to them in our proclamations. Nor had they cause to repent of
that confidence. In no instance were they insulted, plundered, or
ill-treated; whereas every house which was abandoned fell a prey to the
scouts and reconnoitring parties.

But our march to-day was not so rapid as our motions generally were.
The Americans had at last adopted an expedient which, if carried to its
proper length, might have entirely stopped our progress. In most of the
woods they had felled trees, and thrown them across the road; but as
these abattis were without defenders, we experienced no other
inconvenience than what arose from loss of time; being obliged to halt
on all such occasions till the pioneers had removed the obstacle. So
great, however, was even this hinderance, that we did not come in sight
of the main army of the Americans till evening, although the distance
travelled could not exceed ten miles.

It now appeared that the corps which we had beaten yesterday was only a
detachment, and not a large one, from the force collected for the
defence of Baltimore; and that the account given by the volunteer
troopers was in every respect correct. Upon a ridge of hills, which
concealed the town itself from observation, stood the grand army,
consisting of twenty thousand men. Not trusting to his superiority in
numbers, their General had there entrenched them in the most formidable
manner, having covered the whole face of the heights with breastworks,
thrown back his left so as to rest it upon a strong fort erected for
the protection of the river, and constructed a chain of field redoubts
which covered his right and commanded the entire ascent. Along the side
of the hill were likewise _flèches_ and other projecting works, from
which a cross fire might be kept up; and there were mounted throughout
this commanding position no less than one hundred pieces of cannon.

It would be absurd to suppose that the sight of preparations so warlike
did not in some degree damp the ardour of our leader; at least it would
have been madness to storm such works without pausing to consider how
it might best be attempted. The whole of the country within cannon-shot
was cleared from wood, and laid out in grass and corn-fields;
consequently there was no cover to shelter an attacking army from any
part of the deadly fire which would be immediately poured upon it. The
most prudent plan, therefore, was to wait till dark; and then, assisted
by the frigates and bombs, which he hoped were by this time ready to
co-operate, to try the fortune of a battle.

Having resolved thus to act, Colonel Brook halted his army; and,
secured against surprise by a well-connected line of piquets, the
troops were permitted to light fires and to cook their provisions. But
though the rain still fell in torrents, no shelter could be obtained;
and as even their blankets were no longer at hand, with which to form
gipsy-tents, this was the reverse of an agreeable bivouac to the whole
army.

Darkness had now come on, and as yet no intelligence had arrived from
the shipping. To assail such a position, however, without the aid of
the fleet, was deemed impracticable; at least our chance of success
would be greatly diminished without their co-operation. As the left of
the American army extended to a fort built upon the very brink of the
river, it was clear that could the ships be brought to bear upon that
point, and the fort be silenced by their fire, that flank of the
position would be turned. This once effected, there would be no
difficulty in pushing a column within their works; and as soldiers
entrenched always place more reliance upon the strength of their
entrenchments than upon their own personal exertions, the very sight of
our people on a level with them would in all probability decide the
contest. At all events, as the column was to advance under cover of
night, it might easily push forward and crown the hill above the enemy,
before any effectual opposition could be offered; by which means they
would be enclosed between two fires, and lose the advantage which their
present elevated situation bestowed. All, however, depended upon the
ability of the fleet to lend their assistance; for without silencing
the fort, this flank could scarcely be assailed with any chance of
success, and, therefore, the whole plan of operations must be changed.

SEARCH.

Having waited till it was considered imprudent to wait longer, without
knowing whether he was to be supported, Colonel Brook determined, if
possible, to open a communication with the fleet. That the river could
not be far off we knew, but how to get to it without falling in with
wandering parties of the enemy was the difficulty. The thing, however,
must be done; and as secrecy, and not force, was the main object, it
was resolved to dispatch for the purpose a single officer without an
escort. On this service a particular friend of mine chanced to be
employed. Mounting his horse, he proceeded to the right of the army,
where, having delayed a few minutes till the moon rising gave light
enough through the clouds to distinguish objects, he pushed forward at
a venture, in as straight a line as he could guess at. It was not long
before his progress was stopped by a high hedge. Like knight-errants of
old, he then gave himself up to the guidance of his horse, which taking
him towards the rear, soon brought him into a narrow lane, that
appeared to wind in the direction of the enemy’s fort: this lane he
determined to follow, and holding a cocked pistol in his hand, pushed
on, not perhaps entirely comfortable, but desirous at all hazards of
executing his commission. He had not ridden far, when the sound of
voices through the splashing of the rain arrested his attention.
Pulling up, he listened in silence, and soon discovered that they came
from two American soldiers, whether stragglers or sentinels it was
impossible to divine; but whoever they were, they seemed to be
approaching. It now struck him that his safest course would be to
commence the attack, and having therefore waited till he saw them stop
short, as if they had perceived him, he rode forward, and called out to
them to surrender. The fellows turned and fled, but galloping after
them, he overtook one, at whose head he presented a pistol, and who
instantly threw down his rifle, and yielded himself prisoner; whilst
the other, dashing into a thicket, escaped, probably to tell that he
had been attacked by a whole regiment of British cavalry. Having thus
taken a prisoner, my friend resolved to make him of some use; with this
view he commanded him to lay hold of his thigh, and to guide him
directly to the river, threatening, if he attempted to mislead or
betray him into the hands of the Americans, that he would instantly
blow out his brains. Finding himself completely in my friend’s power,
the fellow could not refuse to obey; and accordingly, the man resting
his hand upon the left thigh of the officer, they proceeded along the
lane for some time, till they came to a part where it branched off in
two directions. My friend here stopped for a moment; and again repeated
his threat, swearing that the instant his conduct became suspicious
should be the last of his life. The soldier assured him that he would
keep his word, and moreover informed him that some of our ships were
almost within gun-shot of the fort; a piece of information which was
quickly confirmed by the sound of firing, and the appearance of shells
in the air. They now struck to the right, and in half an hour gained
the brink of the river: where my friend found a party just landed from
the squadron, and preparing to seek their way towards the camp. By them
he was conducted to the Admiral, from whom he learnt that no effectual
support could be given to the land force; for such was the shallowness
of the river, that none except the very lightest craft could make their
way within six miles of the town; and even these were stopped by
vessels sunk in the channel, and other artificial bars, barely within a
shell’s longest range of the fort. With this unwelcome news he was
accordingly forced to return; and taking his unwilling guide along with
him, he made his way, without any adventure, to our advanced posts;
where, having thanked the fellow for his fidelity, he rewarded it more
effectually by setting him at liberty.

Having brought his report to head-quarters, a council of war was
instantly summoned to deliberate upon what was best to be done. Without
the help of the fleet, it was evident that, adopt what plan of attack
we could, our loss must be such as to counterbalance even success
itself; whilst success, under existing circumstances, was, to say the
least of it, doubtful. And even if we should succeed, what would be
gained by it? We could not remove anything from Baltimore, for want of
proper conveyances. Had the ships been able to reach the town, then,
indeed, the quantity of booty might have repaid the survivors for their
toil, and consoled them for the loss of comrades; but as the case now
stood, we should only fight to give us an opportunity of reacting
/re-enacting?/ the scenes of Washington. To distress an enemy is, no
/doubt,
desirable, but, in the present instance, that distress, even if brought
upon the Americans, would cost us dear; whereas, if we failed, it was
hardly possible to avoid destruction.

MARCH.

Such was the reasoning which influenced the council of war to decide
that all idea of storming the enemy’s lines should be given up. To draw
them from their works would require manoeuvring, and manoeuvring
requires time; but delays were all in their favour, and could not
possibly advantage us. Every hour brought in reinforcements to their
army, whereas ours had no source from which even to recruit its losses;
and it was, therefore, deemed prudent, since we could not fight at
once, to lose no time in returning to the shipping.

About three hours after midnight the troops were accordingly formed
upon the road, and began their retreat, leaving the piquets to deceive
the enemy, and to follow, as a rear-guard. The rain, which had
continued with little interruption since the night before, now ceased,
and the moon shone out bright and clear. We marched along, therefore,
not in the same spirits as if we had been advancing, but feeling no
debasement at having thus relinquished an enterprise so much beyond our
strength.

When the day broke, our piquets, which had withdrawn about an hour
before, rejoined us, and we went on in a body. Marching over the field
where the battle of the 12th had been fought, we beheld the dead
scattered about, and still unburied; but so far different from those
which we had seen at Bladensburg, that they were not stripped, every
man lying as he had fallen. One object, however, struck me as curious.
I saw several men hanging lifeless among the branches of trees, and
learnt that they had been riflemen, who chose, during the battle, to
fix themselves in these elevated situations, for the combined purposes
of securing a good aim and avoiding danger. Whatever might be their
success in the first of these designs, in the last they failed; for our
men soon discovered them, and, considering the thing as unfair, refused
to give them quarter, and shot them on their perches.

Here we paused for about an hour, that the soldiers might collect their
blankets and refresh themselves; when we again moved forward, passing
the wood where the gallant Ross was killed. It was noon, and as yet all
had gone on smoothly with out any check or alarm. So little indeed was
pursuit dreamt of, that the column began to straggle, and to march
without much regard to order; when suddenly the bugle sounded from the
rear, and immediately after some musket shots were heard. In an instant
the men were in their places, and the regiments wheeled into line,
facing towards the enemy. The artillery turned round and advanced to
the front; indeed I have never seen a manoeuvre more coolly or more
steadily performed on a parade in England than this rally. The alarm,
however, turned out to be groundless, being occasioned only by the
sudden appearance of a squadron of horse, which had been sent out by
the American General to track our steps. These endeavoured to charge
the rear-guard, and succeeded in making two prisoners; but a single
Shrapnel checked their farther advance, and sent them back at full
speed to boast of the brave exploit which they had performed.

Seeing that no attack was seriously intended, the army broke once more
into the line of march, and proceeded to a favourable piece of ground,
near the uncompleted position which I have already described, where we
passed the night under little tents made with blankets and ramrods. No
alarm occurring, nor any cause of delay appearing, at daybreak we again
got under arms, and pushed on towards the shipping, which in two hours
were distinguishable.

RE-EMBARKATION.

The infantry now halted upon a narrow neck of land, while the artillery
was lifted into boats, and conveyed on board the fleet. As soon as this
was done, brigade after brigade fell back to the water’s edge and
embarked, till finally all, except the light troops, were got off.
These being left to cover the embarkation, were extended across the
entire space which but a little before contained the whole army; but as
no attempt was made to molest them, they had only the honour of being
the last to quit the shore.

Were I to enter into a review of the military proceedings in this
expedition, I should be condemned to repeat, almost word for word, the
remarks which I ventured to make upon the operations previous to the
capture of Washington. On the present occasion, however, neither
hesitation nor precipitancy was displayed by the British General. He
threw his valuable life away, indeed, by exposing his person
unnecessarily in a trifling skirmish; but who will blame a soldier for
excess of courage, or a leader for excess of alertness? Like other able
men, he was unwilling to trust to the report of his subalterns, when it
was in his power to ascertain what he sought to know by personal
observation; and, like other brave men, he would not be deterred from
prosecuting his design by the apprehension of danger. In the plan of
the expedition here, he displayed both skill and resolution. Instead of
wasting time by an attempt to ascend the river, he chose to land where
he was least likely to meet with immediate opposition; and such was the
celerity of his motions, that, had he lived, the chances are that we
should have fought two battles in one day. But of what a man might have
done, I have nothing to say; let me rather do justice to his successor
and his advisers. Of these latter, there is one whom it would be
improper not to mention by name—I mean Lieutenant Evans,
Deputy-Assistant Quartermaster-General. The whole arrangement of our
troops in order of battle was committed to him; and the judicious
method in which they were drawn up, proved that he was not unworthy of
the trust. With respect to the determination of the council of war, I
choose to be silent. Certain it is, that the number of our forces would
hardly authorise any desperate attempt; yet had the attempt been made,
I have very little doubt that it would have been made successfully.

On the part of the Americans, again, the same blunders were committed
which marked their proceedings during the incursion to Washington, with
this exception, that more science was displayed now than formerly in
the distribution of their forces along their principal position. At
Bladensburg, indeed, there existed no works, and the troops were badly
arranged in an open country: here there were not only fortifications,
but fortifications constructed in a scientific manner, and troops drawn
up in such order, as that, even without their works, many cross fires
would have protected their front. But they neglected numerous
favourable opportunities of harassing both our advance and retreat.
They felled trees, but left no guards to keep them from being removed,
and took no advantage of the delays which their removal created. They
risked a battle with a part of their army, when there was no necessity
for it; in a word, they committed all those errors which men generally
commit who are not soldiers, and yet love war.




CHAPTER XV.

THE PATUXENT.


Having once more received the troops on board, the fleet remained
quietly at anchor till the 17th, when, at an early hour, we set sail
and stood towards the Patuxent. In this voyage we passed close to Sent
Island, and again threw the inhabitants of Anapolis into alarm by
approaching almost within gun-shot of their town; but at neither place
were hostilities attempted, and on the 19th we arrived, without any
adventure, at our former anchorage in the river. Here we brought up,
and parties were sent on shore to dig wells in the sand, to which the
boats resorted in great numbers for water. Cattle and sheep were
likewise purchased from the natives; some of the flour which had been
captured was converted into biscuit; and every preparation seemed to be
making for a long voyage.

To facilitate these operations, the fleet now separated, part remaining
here, and part proceeding under Admiral Malcolm to the Potomac; whilst
Sir Alexander Cochrane, in the Tonnant, with several frigates and
gun-brigs, quitted us altogether, and set sail, as it was given out,
for Halifax. But our situation was by no means agreeable. The climate
of this part of America is, at certain seasons, far from healthy; and
the prevalence of dysentery through the armament proved that the
unhealthy season had already commenced. Neither did there appear to be
any prospect of further employment. No one talked of a future
enterprise, nor was the slightest rumour circulated as to the next
point of attack. The death of General Ross seemed to have disorganized
the whole plan of proceedings, and the fleet and army rested idle, like
a watch without its main spring.

Whilst things were in this state, whilst the banks of the rivers
continued in our possession, and the interior was left unmolested to
the Americans, a rash confidence sprang up in the minds of all,
insomuch that parties of pleasure would frequently land without arms,
and spend many hours onshore. On one of these occasions, several
officers from the 85th regiment agreed to pass a day together at a
farm-house, about a quarter of a mile from the stream; and taking with
them ten soldiers, unarmed, to row the boat, a few sailors, and a young
midshipman, not more than twelve years of age, they proceeded to put
their determination into practice. Leaving the men, under the command
of their youthful pilot, to take care of the boat, the officers went on
to the house; but they had not remained there above an hour, when they
were alarmed by a shout, which sounded as if it came from the river.
Looking, out, they beheld their party surrounded by seventy or eighty
mounted riflemen; the boat dragged upon the beach, and set on fire.
Giving themselves up for lost, they continued for an instant in a sort
of stupor; but the master of the house, to whom some kindness had been
shown by our people, proved himself grateful, and, letting them out by
a back door, directed them to bide themselves in the wood, whilst he
should endeavour to turn their pursuers on a wrong scent. As they had
nothing to trust to except the honour of this American, it cannot be
supposed that they felt much at ease; but, seeing no better course
before them, they resigned themselves to his guidance, and plunging
into the thicket, concealed themselves as well as they could among the
underwood. In the mean time the American soldiers, having secured all
that were left behind, except the young midshipman, who fled into the
wood in spite of their fire, divided into two bodies, one of which
approached the house, whilst the other endeavoured to overtake the
brave boy. It so chanced that the party in pursuit passed close to the
officers in concealment, but by the greatest good fortune failed to
observe them. They succeeded, however, in catching a glimpse of the
midshipman, just as he had gained the water’s edge, and was pushing off
a light canoe which he had loosened from the stump of a tree. The
barbarians immediately gave chase, firing at the brave lad, and calling
out to surrender; but the gallant youth paid no attention either to
their voices or their bullets. Launching his little bark, he put to sea
with a single paddle, and, regardless of the showers of balls which
fell about him, returned alone and unhurt to the ship. Whilst one party
was thus employed, the other hastened to the house in full expectation
of capturing the British officers. But their host kept his word with
great fidelity, and, having directed his countrymen towards another
farm-house at some distance from his own, and in an opposite quarter
from the spot where his guests lay, he waited till they were out of
sight, and then joined his new friends in their lurking-place. Bringing
with him such provisions as he could muster, he advised them to keep
quiet till dark, when, their pursuers having departed, he conducted
them to the river, supplied them with a large canoe, and sent them off
in perfect safety to the fleet.

On reaching their ship, they found the 85th regiment under arms, and
preparing to land, for the purpose of either releasing their comrades
from captivity, or inflicting exemplary punishment upon the farmer by
whose treachery it was supposed that they had suffered. But when the
particulars of his behaviour were related, the latter alternative was
at once abandoned; and it was determined to force a dismissal of the
captives, by advancing up the country, and laying waste every thing
with fire and sword. The whole of the light brigade was accordingly
carried on shore, and halted on the beach, whilst a messenger was sent
forward to demand back the prisoners. Such, however, was the effect of
his threatening, that the demand was at once complied with, and they
returned on board without having committed any ravages, or marched
above two miles from the boats.

THE POTOMAC

Besides this trifling debarkation, another little excursion was made by
the second and third brigades, the light troops being left most
unaccountably on board of ship, Colonel Brook, having heard that an
encampment was formed a few miles from the left bank of the Potomac,
determined, if possible, to come up with and engage the force there
stationed. With this view, two brigades were landed on the night of the
4th of October, and pushed forward at a brisk pace; but the enemy,
being on the alert, had timely notice of the movement, and retired; by
which means our people returned on the 5th, without effecting anything.

THE CHESAPEAKE.

By this time the whole fleet was once more collected together; and
crowded the Potomac with their keels. The Diadem being an old ship and
a bad sailer, it was determined to remove from her the troops which she
had formerly carried, to fill her with American prisoners, and to send
her to England. The Menelaus was likewise dispatched with such officers
and soldiers as required the benefit of their native air to complete
the cure of their wounds; and the rest, getting under weigh on the 6th,
stood directly towards the mouth of the Chesapeake. When we reached the
James River, we anchored, and were joined by an American schooner
bearing a flag of truce. She brought with her Colonel Thornton, Lieut.
Colonel Wood, with the rest of the officers and men who had been left
behind at Bladensburg, and, being under the guidance of Commodore
Barney, that gentleman was enabled to discharge his trust even to the
very letter.

It may readily be supposed that the meeting between friends thus
restored to each other was very agreeable. But there was another source
of comfort which this arrival communicated, of greater importance than
the pleasure bestowed upon individuals. In Colonel Thornton we felt
that we had recovered a dashing and enterprising officer; one as well
calculated to lead a corps of light troops, and to guide the advance of
an army, as any in the service. On the whole, therefore, the American
schooner was as welcome as if she had been a first-rate man-of-war
filled with reinforcements from England.

The wounded being now sent off, and Colonel Wood among the number, the
remainder of the fleet again set sail, and reached the mouth of the bay
without interruption. Here they were met by a frigate and two brigs,
which spoke to the Admiral, and apparently communicated some important
intelligence; for we immediately put about and stood once more up the
Chesapeake. The wind, however, blew with great violence, and directly
against us. After beating about, therefore, for some time, without
making any progress, we turned our heads towards the ocean, and flying
between the Capes with amazing velocity, stood out to sea, directing
our course towards the S.S.E., and proceeding at the rate of seven
miles an hour under bare poles. The sea ran tremendously high, and the
sky was dark and dreary; insomuch that by a landsman the gale might
safely be accounted a storm. Under these circumstances, the ship
rolling as if she would dip her topmasts in the water, and the waves
breaking in at the back windows of the cabin, nothing remained to be
done but to go to bed. Thither most of us accordingly repaired, and
holding ourselves in our berths by clinging to the posts, we amused
ourselves by watching the motions of stools, books, trunks, and other
articles, as they floated majestically from one side of the cabin to
the other. But the effects of the gale were not in every respect
ludicrous. Two small schooners, which had been captured at Alexandria
and converted into tenders, foundered and went down, without an
opportunity being afforded of saving an individual of their crews.

AT SEA.

At length the wind began to moderate, and on the 18th there was a dead
calm. In point of comfort, however, I cannot say that much change was
experienced; for though the gale had ceased, the swell still continued;
and the motion produced by a heavy sea after a storm is even more
disagreeable than that occasioned by the storm itself. But on this day
the minds of all were set at ease as to the place whither we were
going, a telegraph signal being made to steer for Jamaica. It was
likewise understood that we should be there joined by strong
reinforcements, and proceed upon a secret expedition against some place
on the southern borders of the United States.

The calm which had succeeded the storm did not last long, for on the
19th a fair breeze sprang up, and sent us at a moderate and agreeable
rate upon our course. The heat, however, was most oppressive; even
awnings being unable to afford sufficient shelter. We were fast
approaching the tropic of Cancer, and every day experienced a greater
degree of sultriness; till at length, on the 25th, we crossed that
imaginary boundary. Here we were visited, according to custom, by
Neptune and his wife; and as the ceremony of shaving may be unknown to
some of my readers, I shall beg leave to relate the particulars of that
operation.

A clever active seaman, dressed up grotesquely in party-coloured rags,
adorned with a long beard made of the stuff which sailors call
spun-yarn, and armed with a tri-pronged harpoon, personates the God of
the Ocean. Another seaman, arrayed in like manner, except that, instead
of a beard, he wears a hideous mask, performs the part of the lady.
These are attended by a troop of sea-gods and nymphs, similarly
equipped; and advancing from the bow of the vessel, as if just stepped
on board, they come forward to the mainmast, and summon before them all
such persons as have never sworn the oaths or previously visited their
capital. At the foot of the mast is placed a large tub full of
sea-water, and covered by a piece of canvas, which is held tight by
four of their attendants. Upon this unsteady throne is the luckless
wight, whom they design to initiate, compelled to sit; and being asked
several questions, which he cannot answer, and taking several oaths,
very much resembling those said to be administered at Highgate, Neptune
proceeds to confer upon him the honour of filiation, by rather an
extraordinary process. Two of the sea-nymphs, generally tall stout
fellows, pinion his arms to his sides; and another, bringing a bucket
filled with grease and slops from the kitchen, sets it down at his
godship’s feet, putting a small painting-brush into his hand. Neptune
now dips his brush into the filth, and proceeds to spread a lather over
the face of the novice, taking care to ask questions during the whole
process; and if the adopted be simple enough to reply, the brush is
instantly thrust into his mouth. As soon as a sufficient quantity of
grease is laid upon the face, Neptune seizes a piece of rusty iron,
generally the broken hoop of some water-cask, with which he scrapes off
all that has been applied. If the novice take all this patiently, his
face is washed, and he is permitted to descend from his throne in
peace; but if he lose his temper, which most men are apt to do, a
bucket of sea-water is poured upon his head. If this be sufficient to
cool his wrath, he suffers no more; but if it only increase his
indignation, bucket after bucket is emptied over him, and at last, the
holders of the sail-cloth suddenly retiring, he is plunged overhead
into the tub. To crown all, the unfortunate wretch who has endured
these miseries is fined by his tormentor in a gallon of ruin; a fine
which the force of custom compels him to pay. It must be confessed that
this is a barbarous amusement, much resembling that of the boys in the
fable of the boys and the frogs. Though very agreeable to those who act
and to the lookers on, it is not so to him that suffers.

In this manner many persons were treated, till at length Neptune,
growing weary from the number of novices, was content to admit the rest
to the privileges of initiation, on condition that the fines should be
punctually paid; an agreement into which most of us very thankfully
entered.

THE WEST INDIES.

Next morning, the first object which met our eyes was the land of
Caycos island. We were so close to the shore, when daylight discovered
it, that had the wind been at all adverse we must unquestionably have
struck; but being assisted by a fair and gentle breeze, the ships put
about immediately, and escaped the danger. Standing out to sea, the
fleet now doubled the promontory, and steering round by the other side,
sailed on without losing sight of the land till late in the evening.

On the following day, a signal was made from the Admiral’s ship, that
the Golden Fleece transport, under convoy of the Volcano bomb, should
proceed to Port Royal, whilst the rest of the fleet held their course
towards Negril Bay. These two vessels accordingly set all sail, and
pushed forward by themselves; the others keeping on at a more moderate
rate, that none might stray from the convoy: for the West India seas at
this time swarmed with American privateers, and it was of great
consequence to keep the store-ships and heavy transports in the middle
of the squadron.

It so chanced that I took my passage in one of the two ships which
proceeded forward by themselves. The wind was fair, and we made great
progress, insomuch that before dark the high land of St. Domingo on one
side, and the mountains of Cuba on the other, were discernible. In
spite of the heat, therefore, our voyage soon became truly delightful.
Secure of getting on under the influence of the trade winds, we had
nothing to distract our thoughts, or keep us from feasting our eyes
upon the glorious shores of these two islands; whilst in addition to
the sight of land, which of itself was cheering, we were amused with
water-spouts, apparently playing about us in every direction. One of
these, however, began to form within a little distance of the ship, and
as they are dangerous as well as interesting, a cannon was got ready to
break it before it should reach us. But it did not complete its
formation, though I cannot tell why; for, after one spout had risen
into the air some height, and another bent down from the clouds to meet
it, they were suddenly carried away in different directions, and fell
into the sea with the noise of a cataract.

Among other sources of amusement, our attention was drawn, on the 29th,
to a shark, which made its appearance at the stern of the vessel. A
strong hook was immediately prepared, and baited with a piece of salt
pork, which being thrown over, was instantly gulped by the voracious
monster. But as soon as he felt the pain occasioned by the book in his
jaws, he plunged towards the bottom of the sea with such violence, as
to render the very tafferel hot, by the rapidity of the cord gliding
over it. Having permitted him to go a certain length, he was again
hauled up to the surface, where he remained without offering further
resistance, till a boat was lowered, and a strong noose thrown over his
head. Being thus made fast to the gunwale of the boat, he was brought
round to the gangway, when the end of the noose being cast over the
main-yard, he was lifted out of the sea and swung upon the ship’s deck.
Hitherto he had suffered quietly enough, in apparent stupefaction from
the pain of his jaw; but he began now to convince us that neither life
nor strength had deserted him; lashing his tail with such violence as
speedily to clear the quarter-deck, and biting in the most furious
manner at everything within his reach. One of the sailors, however, who
seemed to understand these matters more than his comrades, took an axe,
and watching his opportunity, at one, blow chopped off his tail. He was
now perfectly harmless, unless, indeed, one had chosen to thrust one’s
hand into his mouth; and the same sailor accordingly proceeded to lay
him open, and to take out his entrails. And now it was that the
tenacity of life, peculiar to these animals, displayed itself. After
his heart and bowels were taken out; the shark still continued to
exhibit proofs of animation, by biting with as much force as ever at a
bag of carpenter’s tools that happened to lie within his reach.

Being cut up, he was distributed in portions among the soldiers and the
ship’s crew. The tail part only was reserved as the chief delicacy for
our cabin, which, though dry and hard, with little flavour or taste,
was on the present occasion considered as agreeable food, because it
was fresh.




CHAPTER XVI.


But what I principally relished, in this part of our voyage, was the
exquisite beauty of its night-scenery. To an inhabitant of Great
Britain, the splendour of a night-scene in these climates is altogether
unknown. Shining broad and full in a sky perfectly cloudless, the moon
sends forth a clear and mellow lustre, little inferior, in point of
brilliancy, to the full twilight in England. By this means you never
lose sight of land, either by night or day, as long as your course lies
between Cuba and St. Domingo; whilst the delicious coolness, which
follows the setting of the sun, tempts you, in spite of all the
whispers of prudence, to expose yourself to dews and damps, rather than
forego the pleasures of which they are the bane. Besides, you have
constantly the satisfaction of observing yourself move steadily on at
the most agreeable of all rates, about five or six miles an hour; a
satisfaction far from trifling in a sea-life. Then the ocean is so
smooth, that scarcely a ripple is seen to break the moon-beams as they
fall; whilst the quiet dash of little waves against the ship’s side,
and the rushing noise occasioned by the moving of her bow through the
water, produce altogether an effect which may, without affectation, be
termed absolutely refreshing. It was my common practice to sit for
hours after night-fall upon the tafferel, and strain my eyes in the
attempt to distinguish objects on shore or strange sails in the
distance.

It happened that, on the 30th, I was tempted to indulge in this idle
but bewitching employment, even beyond my usual hour for retiring, and
did not quit the deck till towards two o’clock in the morning of the
31st. I had just entered my cabin, and was beginning to undress, when a
cry from above, of an enemy in chase, drew me instantly to the
quarter-deck. On looking astern, I perceived a vessel making directly
after us, and was soon convinced of the justice of the alarm, by a shot
which whistled over our heads. All hands were now called to quarters,
the small sails were taken in, and having spoken to our companion, and
made an agreement as to position, both ships cleared for action. But
the stranger, seeing his signal obeyed with so much alacrity, likewise
slackened sail, and, continuing to keep us in view, followed our wake
without approaching nearer. In this state things continued till
daybreak, we still holding our course, and he hanging back; but as soon
as it was light, he set more sail and ran to windward, moving just out
of gun-shot, in a parallel direction with us. It was now necessary to
fall upon some plan of deceiving him, otherwise there was little
probability that he would attack. In the bomb, indeed, the height of
the bulwark served to conceal some of the men; but in the transport no
such screen existed. The troops were, therefore, ordered below, and
only the sailors, a few blacks, and the officers, kept the deck. The
same expedient was likewise adopted, in part, by Captain Price, of the
Volcano; and in order to give to his ship a still greater resemblance
than it already had to a merchantman, he displayed an old faded scarlet
ensign, and drew up his fore and mainsail in what sailors term a
lubberly manner.

As yet the stranger had shown no colours, but, from her build and
rigging, there was little doubt as to her country. She was a beautiful
schooner, presenting seven ports on a side, and apparently crowded with
men, circumstances which immediately led us to believe that she was an
American privateer. The Volcano, on the other hand, was a clumsy
strong-built ship, carrying twelve guns; and the Golden Fleece mounted
eight; so that, in point of artillery, the advantage was rather on our
side; but the American’s sailing was so much superior to that of either
of us, that this advantage was more than counterbalanced.

Having dodged us till eight o’clock, and reconnoitred with great
exactness, the stranger began to steer gradually nearer and nearer,
till at length it was judged that she had arrived within range. A gun
was accordingly fired from the Volcano, and another from the transport,
the balls from both of which passed over her and fell into the sea.
Finding herself thus assaulted, she instantly threw off her disguise,
and hung out an American ensign; when, putting her helm up, she poured
a broadside, with a volley of musketry, into the transport; and ran
alongside of the bomb, which sailed to windward.

As soon as her flag was displayed, and her intention of attacking
discerned, all hands were ordered up, and she received two
well-directed broadsides from the Volcano, as well as a warm salute
from the Golden Fleece. But such was the celerity of her motion, that
she was alongside of the bomb in less time than can be imagined; and
actually dashing her bow against the other, attempted to carry her by
boarding. Captain Price, however, was ready to receive them. The
boarders were at their posts in an instant, and the enemy discovering,
when it was too late, the mistake into which he had fallen, left about
twenty of his men upon the Volcano’s bowsprit, all of whom were thrown
into the sea; and filling his sails, sheered off with the same speed
with which he had borne down. In attempting to escape, he unavoidably
fell somewhat to leeward, and exposed the whole of his deck to the fire
of the transport. A tremendous discharge of musketry saluted him as he
passed; and it was almost laughable to witness the haste with which his
crew hurried below, leaving none upon deck except such as were
absolutely wanted to work his vessel.

The Volcano had by this time filled, and gave chase, firing with great
precision at the privateer’s yards and rigging, in the hope of
disabling him. But as fortune would have it, none of his important
ropes or yards were cut; and we had the mortification to see him, in a
few minutes, beyond our reach.

In this affair, a marine officer and two men were killed on board the
bomb; and some of the tackling was shot away. The transport suffered
nothing in killed or wounded, having been in a great degree protected
from the enemy’s fire by her commodore; and only one rope, not, I
believe, an important one, was destroyed.

The battle having ended, and the chase being given up as fruitless, we
continued our course without any other adventure; and before dark were
able to distinguish the blue mountains of Jamaica. St. Domingo and Cuba
had both disappeared, and this was now the only land visible; but it
was not till the 1st of November that we could obtain a distinct view
of it. Then, indeed, we found ourselves within a few miles of the
shore, and seldom has landscape appeared more attractive to the eyes of
a voyager, than the romantic shores of Jamaica now appeared to ours.

Jamaica is in general a bold and mountainous island, but on this side
it is peculiarly so. It appeared to me that even the Pyrenees,
magnificent as they are, were not to be compared, in point of altitude,
to the hills now before me; and early in the morning, while yet the
mists hung upon their summits and concealed them, no prospect can be
imagined more sublime than that which they presented. It was, in truth,
a glorious scene; and as the wind blew light and uncertain, we were
permitted, from the slowness of the ship’s progress, to enjoy it to the
full. Towards evening, indeed, the breeze died entirely away, which
compelled us to anchor about eight miles from the harbour of Port
Royal.

PORT ROYAL.

In spite of the little rest which I had procured during the two
preceding nights, having sat up till an early hour this morning, to
watch several strange sails that hovered about us, I could not bring
myself to quit the deck till after midnight, so beautiful, in all
respects, were the objects around me. The moon shone with her
accustomed brilliancy, and exhibited every crag and tree upon the land,
changed and confounded in shape, but still plainly; whilst the perfume,
borne off upon the breeze, was odoriferous in the highest degree. The
sound of the waves, likewise, breaking upon the rocks, and the
occasional cry of seamen, as they adjusted ropes and sails, together
with the sight of several vessels which took advantage of the
night-wind and stood to sea, with canvas glittering in the moonbeams,
produced so delightful a combination, as completely riveted me to my
seat; nor was it without much reluctance that I at length yielded to
the drowsy god, and descended to my cabin.

Next morning, the ship got under weigh at an early hour, but, owing to
the unsteadiness of the breeze, it was ten o’clock before we made any
satisfactory progress. As we approached the bay which forms the harbour
of Port Royal, a novel and pleasing sight presented itself. The hills
dying gradually away, gave place to gentle slopes and green knolls,
till, towards the entrance, the coast became perfectly level. Pushing
forward, we soon found ourselves in a narrow channel between two
projecting headlands, beautifully ornamented with cocoa-nut trees, and
so near to each other, that I could with ease have thrown a biscuit
from the ship’s deck upon either. At the extremity of these necks, just
where the bay begins its sweep, stand two well-built forts, bristling
with cannon; and at the opposite side may be seen a third, ready to
sink whatever hostile fleet should be fortunate enough to force an
entrance. But these were not the most striking parts of the scene. The
water in this strait is remarkably clear, and exhibits with great
distinctness the tops and chimneys of houses at the bottom. It will be
recollected, that many years ago, an earthquake not only demolished
great part of the town of Port Royal, but likewise covered it with the
sea; by which means, the site of the harbour was completely changed,
and that which was formerly dry land, and a town, became part of the
entrance of the bay.

Having doubled the promontories, a rich and extensive prospect meets
the eye. You find yourself, as it were, in a large inland lake, the
banks of which are covered with plantations of sugar cane, groves of
cocoa-nut and plantain trees, and other woods peculiar to these
regions, beautifully interspersed with seats and villages. On your
right is the town of Port Royal, lying almost on a level with the
water, and strongly protected by fortifications, whilst in various
other directions are castles and batteries, adding an appearance of
security to that of plenty. The banks, though not lofty, slope gently
upwards, with occasional falls or glens, and the background is composed
in general of the rugged tops of distant mountains.

Having waited till the ship dropped anchor, I put myself into a a sort
of barge rowed by four negroes, and proceeded to Kingston. Though not
the capital of the island, Kingston is the largest town in Jamaica. It
stands upon the brink of a frith, about nine miles above Port Royal,
and thence enjoys all the advantages of the chief mart in this trading
country. Like most other mercantile seaports, it is built without much
regard to regularity. The streets, though wide, are in general the
reverse of elegant, being composed almost entirely of wooden houses,
and by no means remarkable for cleanliness. Of public buildings it
possesses none worthy of notice. Its inns are, however, excellent; and
though certainly not moderate in their charges, they are at least more
so than those of Bermuda. In a word, it is exactly such a town as one
would expect to find holding the principal commercial rank in a colony
where men’s minds seldom aspire beyond the occupations of trade.

Of the intense heat in this place, none but those who have experienced
it can form a notion. It is impossible to walk out with any comfort,
except before the sun has risen, or after he has set; and even within
doors, with the aid of thorough draughts and all the other expedients
usually adopted on such occasions, it is with the utmost difficulty
that you can contrive to keep your blood in a moderate degree of
temperature. In the town itself, therefore, few of the higher classes
reside, the closeness produced by a proximity of houses being in this
climate peculiarly insupportable. These inhabit for the most part
little villas, called Pens, about three or four miles in the country,
the master of each family generally, retaining a suite of apartments,
or, perhaps an entire mansion, in some open street for his own use,
when business obliges, him, to exchange the comfort of fresh air for
the suffocating atmosphere of Kingston. Towards the outskirts, indeed,
in one direction, a few gentile families inhabit one or two handsome
houses, surrounded by extensive gardens and shrubberies; but these are
not numerous, and they are so far removed from the heart of the town,
as to be in great measure beyond the influence of its smoke and other
nuisances.

During our sojourn in this place we received the most hospitable
attention from several persons of the first distinction. Balls and
other entertainments were given, at which all the beauty and fashion in
this part of the island attended; and for some days I had little
leisure or inclination for any other pursuit than the enjoyment of
civilized pleasure, a pursuit which, from long disuse, possessed more
than ordinary zest. But at length having seen as much of Kingston and
its vicinity as, I desired to see, I determined to take advantage of
the opportunity which fortune had placed within my reach, and to make
an excursion into the heart of the Blue Mountains. To this I was
additionally induced by an invitation from an old friend to visit him
at Annotto bay; and as, along with his letter, he sent a horse for my
own conveyance, and a mule for the conveyance of my baggage, no
difficulty respecting a mode of being transported stood in the way to
obstruct my design.

Having made up my mind to this journey, I waited, till sunset on the
9th, when, starting in the cool of the evening, I reached a little
tavern called the Plum Tree, about half an hour after dark. My ride
carried me through an open and fertile country covered with
sugar-canes, coffee, and such other plants as are cultivated in the low
grounds of Jamaica. It was a short one, not more than twelve miles in
extent, but I was forced to halt where I did, because I had gained the
foot of the mountains; and if I had passed the Plum Tree, well known as
a sort of half-way house on such tours, I might have travelled all
night without finding any place of accommodation.

As darkness set in, one of the, beautiful peculiarities of a tropical
climate, which I had not previously witnessed, came under my
observation. The air was filled with fire-flies, which, emitting a
phosphoric light something similar to the light of the glow-worm, only
more red and brilliant, danced around me like sparks from a smith’s
anvil when he is beating a bar of red-hot iron. These creatures flutter
about with a humming noise, and frequently settle in large swarms upon
branches of trees, giving them the semblance of so many pieces of
timber taken newly out of a fire. When viewed by daylight they are in
no way remarkable for their elegance, resembling in the shape of the
body a long beetle which may be seen in the fields after sunset,
without wings or scales. In colour they are a dingy brown, and, like
the glow-worm, carry their light in the tail.

As I had not before chanced to see anything of the kind, and forgot at
the moment that such an insect as the fire-fly existed, I was for a few
minutes at a loss to what cause to attribute the phenomenon, and was at
last indebted to my negro guide for refreshing my memory on the
subject. The effect, however, cannot be conceived without being
witnessed. A cluster of two or three glow-worms shine so brilliantly,
that they will furnish subject for the commendatory eloquence of any
one fortunate enough to perceive them together; but their brilliancy is
to a farthing candle to the sun, when compared with that of the
fire-fly. Not two, or three, but thousands of these creatures dance
around, filling the air with a wavering and uncertain glimmer, of the
extreme beauty of which no words can convey an adequate conception.

THE BLUE MOUNTAINS.

Having passed the night at this tavern, a small cottage kept by a free
negro and his wife, I rose two hours before dawn, and prosecuted my
journey. From the moment I quitted the Plate Tree I began gradually to
ascend, till at daybreak I found myself in the midst of the most
glorious scenery that the imagination of man can conceive. Everything
around was new and romantic. The hills, towering into the very sky,
were covered from top to bottom with the richest herbage and the most
luxuriant wood. Rarely could a barren crag be discerned, and when it
did appear it was only a sharp point, or a bald projection pushing
itself forward from the midst of the thickest foliage. But what to me
formed the most bewitching part of the prospect was the elegance of the
trees and their perfect dissimilitude to any which had previously
beheld. The cocoa-nut and plantain were mingled with the wild pine and
lime-tree; while the cashew and wild coffee, with numberless other
shrubs, loaded at once with fruit and blossom, formed the underwood to
these graceful forests.

As yet I had been favoured with a wide and good road, but now it began
gradually to narrow, till at last it ended in a path little more
distinct than the sheep-tracks over the hills in Scotland. Winding
along the sides of the mountains, it brought me frequently to spots
where the wood parting, as if artificially, displayed deep ravines, to
look down which, without becoming dizzy, required no little strength of
head; whilst above, the same hill continued to stretch itself to a
height far beyond any I had before gazed upon. Presently after it
conducted me gently down into valleys completely shut out from the rest
of the world; and as I descended I could hear the roar of water, though
neither, the stream nor the bottom of the glen could be perceived. On
one of these occasions, after passing through a thick grove, I beheld a
river of some width dashing along the glen, and chafing so as to
produce the noise of a mighty waterfall. Towards the brink of this
river my guide conducted me; when, plunging in, we made our way with
some difficulty to the opposite bank, and again began to ascend.

For several hours, the same scenery surrounded me, only varied by the
occasional appearance of clusters of negro huts. Than these, it is
impossible to imagine any species of huts or dwellings more beautifully
picturesque. They are constructed of strong limbs of trees, thatched
over with straw, and usually ending in a cone; having no windows, but
only two, or sometimes four doors, for the purpose of admitting a free
current of air. The spots chosen for their erection, are generally
small platforms or terraces in the sides of the hills. A little path,
similar to that along which I travelled, winds down from their doors to
the bottom of the valley, and conducts to the edge of the river, from
whence the inhabitants are supplied with water. Other tracks likewise
branch off in different directions, some towards the summit, and others
along the sides of the mountains; leading, probably, to the fields or
spots where the inhabitants labour. These huts have no chimney, but
only a large hole in the roof, to give free passage to the smoke; and I
could perceive, by its rise at present, that fires were now burning.

It would be labour lost, were I to attempt any more minute description
of this delightful journey. Every step I took presented something new,
and something more grand and sublime than I had just quitted; whilst
the continual fording of the swollen river (for I crossed the same
stream no fewer than eight-and-twenty times) gave an additional
interest to the scene, arising from the sense of danger. The rainy
season having just ended, this stream, the Wag-water, a most
appropriate name, had not as yet returned to its natural size; but at
the fords, which in general would not cover a horse’s knees, the depth
was such as to moisten the saddle-girths. So great a quantity of water,
in a furious mountain-torrent, pouring on with all the violence
produced by a steep descent, occasioned no slight pressure upon my
steed; nor was it without considerable floundering on his part, and
some anxiety on mine, that once or twice we succeeded in making good
our passage.




CHAPTER XVII.


Noon was approaching when my sooty fellow-traveller directed my
attention to a neat cottage, romantically situated on the top of a low
mound, which stood alone in the middle of stupendous mountains. It
commanded one of the most exquisite prospects that fancy can represent.
A sort of glen surrounded it on every side, richly and beautifully
wooded; behind, rose some of the most lofty of the Blue Mountains; on
the right there was an opening, which admitted a fine view of Annotto
Bay; whilst in the other direction, the hills sloping gradually
upwards, presented an inclined plane, covered with fields of
sugar-cane, and ending, at a considerable distance, in one abrupt and
broken ridge.

The cottage in question was the residence of my friend, and the
resting-place whither my steps were turned; nor did I experience any
regret at finding myself so near my journey’s end. The heat had for
some time been almost intolerable, and having eaten nothing since the
night before, nature began to cry out for repose and repletion; and, in
truth, the welcome which I experienced, was of a nature to take away
all desire of wandering farther. We had not met for several years—not,
indeed, since I was a child—and in the interval, some melancholy
changes had occurred in the family of my host; but he received me with
the cordial hospitality which a warm heart produces, and forgot his
private sorrows for a time, that he might not throw a damp upon my
enjoyments.

The remainder of this day I spent, as a powerful sensation of fatigue
warned me to spend it, within doors; but on the following morning I set
out at an early hour, for the purpose of gratifying my curiosity on a
number of points which had frequently exercised it. In this excursion,
and indeed in all the excursions which I undertook during my residence
at his Pen, my friend accompanied me; and an excellent and most
intelligent guide he proved to be. We made the tour of several estates,
saw the process of making sugar, visited the sugar and coffee
plantations, and inspected several hospitals, with one of which each
estate is supplied, for the accommodation and cure of sick negroes. In
the course of these rambles, I made it my business to inquire into the
condition and treatment of the slave population; inspecting their huts,
and even examining their provisions; and I frankly confess that, though
I began my researches under the influence of as many prejudices as, on
such a subject, are wont to be entertained by Englishmen in general,
the result of the whole was to convince me that I had done glaring
injustice to the character of the Jamaica planters, as well as fostered
notions of the wretchedness of the negroes, utterly and iniquitously
erroneous. It is no business of mine, and, if it were, this is no
proper place to take part in what has of late been termed the
West-Indian controversy; but, as an eye-witness, I may venture to speak
out on one point, by affirming, that a countless proportion of the
stories with which the British public is amused, touching the barbarous
treatment of slaves by owners and overseers, are, if not absolute
fables, at all events gross exaggerations. I am aware that my residence
in the island was too brief, and my acquaintance with it too limited,
to entitle my opinions to the weight which a more protracted sojourn
might have obtained for them; but it is but justice to state, that
whilst I was there, I enjoyed opportunities of seeing the negro at all
times, and under all circumstances, such as few casual visitors can
boast of. My host was not a planter, but a medical practitioner; and
one prejudiced rather against the slave system than in favour of it:
there was therefore no disposition on his part to cast dust into my
eyes, or to present to them only the bright side of the picture. Under
his guidance, I beheld the negro at work in the fields, in the bosom of
his family, in the sick ward, and at market; and I never saw him other
than a contented and light-hearted being. No doubt there are instances
of cruelty on the part of overseers in Jamaica, exactly as there are
instances of tyranny on the part of parish officers and county
magistrates in England; but had these been as numerous, or as flagrant,
as they are represented to be, I cannot doubt but that something of the
kind must have passed under my eyes, even within the space of one week.
No such event, however, took place; and, as far as I could learn, no
such event was to be expected.

Far be it from me to stand forward as the advocate of personal bondage
in the abstract—it is a grievous evil; and wherever men are so far
civilized as to render its abolition desirable, it is an evil which
ought to be abolished. But it is an evil of long standing, authorized
in the Bible, and therefore, we may presume, not without its
counterbalancing benefits. He, therefore, who would seek, at all
hazards and under all circumstances, to dissolve the tie which binds a
master to his slave, and a slave to his master—whilst he would be doing
that which the Apostles never did, and which Christians are nowhere
commanded to do—would run no slight hazard of causing a quantity of
mischief to both parties, for which the benefits bestowed upon either
would not compensate. With respect to our own colonies, in particular,
it is manifest that the whole matter resolves itself into one
consideration. If the negroes be in such a state, as that the boon of
universal freedom would be productive to them of universal benefit, by
all means let it be bestowed at once, even though it be attended by so
much national expense, as the fair demands of the proprietors for
compensation shall impose upon us. If they be not thus situated, let
every practicable method be adopted to advance them on the scale of
civilization; but till they be advanced far beyond their present
station, let no false hopes be excited that the moment of their
liberation is at hand. Many measures for their improvement have been
adopted since the year 1814, and many more are in daily process of
adoption; but it is greatly to be apprehended that much of the benefit
which these measures promised to bring about, has been obstructed by
the indiscreet zeal of those who profess, and probably feel, the
liveliest interest in their welfare.

Besides adding to my stock of knowledge as to the cultivation of the
sugar-cane, the making of sugar, rum, &c. &c.; I had an opportunity of
seeing something of the Maroons, or free Negroes, who inhabit the
mountains. These people dwell apart from the European settlers, holding
very little intercourse with them, though a single European generally
resides in each of their villages, as a sort of chief or magistrate.
They struck me to be a lazy, indolent, and harmless race of human
beings; and they formed, in all their habits, a striking contrast with
their enslaved brethren. Whilst the latter devote their spare hours to
the culture of their own little spots, to cudgel-playing, dancing, or
other gambols, the former appear to spend their whole time in a state
between sleeping and waking, at the doors of their huts, or under the
shelter of trees. Some of the Maroon females, I observed, were really
handsome, their features being high, and their persons elegantly
formed; but in general they differed nothing from the other negroes,
from whom, indeed, they are principally descended.

I heard that the men carry on a petty trade in feathers, but that their
principal occupation, at least that from which they derive the largest
emolument, consists in apprehending, and leading back to their masters,
run-away slaves. For their services in this department, they were wont
to receive a pension from the Government; and they are still, I
believe, supplied with muskets and ammunition at the expense of the
colonial authorities. But enough of these details.

My sojourn in St. Mary’s having extended considerably beyond the limits
which prudence would have imposed upon it, I set out on the morning of
the 13th, on my return towards Kingston. The country through which I
travelled differed in many respects from that which I had crossed in my
way hither: it was in general less wild, and less mountainous; but it
possessed features of striking beauty, rich corn-fields being
interspersed amidst graceful forests, and here and there a wild
hill-side rising as a contrast to both. The most remarkable variety,
and not perhaps the least agreeable, was, however, to be found in the
absence of the Wag-water; my guide having led me in a direction by
which its tortuous course was avoided.

As it was late before I started, my ride soon became toilsome on
account of the heat, and I was fain to stop short for the night at a
place called Stoney Hill, about twelve miles from Kingston. Here I was
hospitably entertained by the officers of the 102nd regiment; and,
rising at an early hour on the following morning, I contrived to
complete my journey before breakfast. And it was well that no further
time had been expended in my progress. The ships, I found, were
preparing to put to sea; the stock was all embarked, and the crews on
board; nothing therefore remained for me but to follow the general
example, and to establish myself with as little delay as possible in my
cabin.

PORT ROYAL—NEGRIL BAY.

In spite of these preparations, the 15th and 16th of November both
passed away without any movement being made. It was, however, my custom
not to neglect any opportunities which chanced to come in my way of
viewing strange places, and obtaining an acquaintance with strange
people; neither on the present occasion did I fail to make the most of
the interval, by landing and wandering over the town of Port Royal. But
to describe minutely a place so little deserving of description, would
hardly repay me for the labour of writing, or the reader for the toil
of perusing what I write. It is sufficient to observe, that except to
him who takes delight in beholding a well-constructed military work,
there is nothing in the busy, bustling town of Port Royal which will at
all compensate for the heat and fatigue which he must undergo who, like
myself, traverses its streets and lanes at noon-day.

The long looked-for signal to weigh was hung out at last; and at an
early hour on the 17th we put to sea. Our point of destination was
Negril Bay, the appointed place of rendezvous for the whole armament;
and we reached it without the occurrence of mishap or adventure on the
evening of the 19th. We found here a large fleet already assembled; but
the horses were all landed, many officers were dwelling in tents on the
shore, and everything gave indication that some further delay might be
expected. To say the truth, I experienced no degree of satisfaction at
this prospect; for the point of the island opposite to which we now lay
was neither remarkable for its natural beauty nor very thickly
inhabited; and had the contrary been the case, I had seen as much of
Jamaica and its people as I was at all desirous to see. Besides, it was
impossible not to feel that whatever the object of our expedition might
be, it was not likely to be furthered by this tardy mode of entering
upon it; and rumours already began to spread abroad, of discoveries
incautiously and untimely made. It was, therefore, with no slight
degree of pleasure that, on the morning of the 24th, the topmasts of a
numerous squadron were seen over the eastern promontory, in full sail
towards us; and it was with still greater delight that in a short time
we were able to discern the flags of Sir Alexander Cochrane and Admiral
Malcolm floating in the breeze. By and bye the Tonnant and Royal Oak
showed their hulls in the offing; and a short while afterwards, these
ships, followed by a large fleet of troopers and transports,
majestically entered the bay. As may be imagined, our curiosity was
strongly excited to learn what reinforcements they contained, and what
intelligence they brought; insomuch, that they had scarcely dropped
anchor when they were boarded from almost every one of the ships which
they came to join.

NEGRIL BAY.

It appeared that this powerful reinforcement consisted of the following
corps:—the 93rd regiment, a fine battalion of Highlanders, mustering
nine hundred bayonets; six companies of the 95th rifle corps; two West
India regiments, each eight hundred strong; two squadrons of the 14th
Dragoons dismounted; detachments of artillery, rockets, sappers, and
engineers; recruits for the different corps already in this part of the
world; and though last, not least, Major-General Keane to take upon
himself the command of the whole. The intelligence brought was likewise
interesting, for it informed us of the point whither we were to
proceed; and it was soon known throughout the fleet, that the conquest
of New Orleans was the object in view.

But before I pursue my narrative further, having arrived, as it were,
at a second commencement, it may be well if I state in full the number
of men of which the army now consisted. In the first place, then, there
were the 4th, 44th, and 85th regiments, originally dispatched from
Bordeaux, and the 21st, which joined the expedition at Bermuda. These
battalions, being considerably reduced by past service, could not at
present muster conjunctly above two thousand two hundred men; and being
likewise deprived of the Marine battalion, which had fought beside them
in the Chesapeake, they retained no followers except the artillery,
sappers, &c. which had accompanied them from the first. The whole
amount of this corps may, therefore, be estimated at two thousand five
hundred men.

Without computing the individual strength of each detachment now
arrived, I will venture to fix the aggregate at two thousand five
hundred; and thus the whole, taken collectively, will amount to five
thousand combatants. That it might somewhat exceed or fall under this
computation, I do not deny; but neither the excess nor deficiency could
be considerable; and therefore my statement may be received as correct,
with very little allowance.

This, it must be confessed, was a formidable force, and such as, had
all its parts been trustworthy, might have done much. But on the black
corps little reliance could be placed, especially if the climate should
prove colder than was anticipated; consequently, there were not more
than three thousand four hundred men upon whom a General could fully
depend.

Together with these forces were brought out abundant stores of
ammunition, some clothing for the troops, and tents to be used when an
opportunity should offer. There were also numerous additions to the
commissariat and medical departments; in short, the materiel of the
army was increased in proportion to its increase in number.

To find himself in the chief command of the army, exceeded the
expectation, and perhaps the desire, of General Keane. Being a young
and dashing officer, he had been selected as most fit to serve under
General Ross; and having sailed from England before the death of that
gallant chief was known, he reached Madeira before his elevation was
communicated to him. Young as he was, however, his arrival produced
much satisfaction throughout the armament; for though no one
entertained a doubt as to the personal courage of Colonel Brook, it was
felt that a leader of more experience was wanted on the present
expedition.

As soon as the newly-arrived squadron had anchored, the Bay was covered
with boats, which conveyed parties of officers from ship to ship,
hastening to salute their comrades, and to inquire into the state of
things at home. Greetings and hearty embraces were interchanged between
friends thus again brought together; and a few passing ejaculations of
sorrow bestowed upon those who could not now take part in the meeting.
Many questions were put, relative to persons and places in England; in
a word, the day was spent in that species of employment, which can be
completely known only to those who have been similarly situated.




CHAPTER XVIII.

AT SEA.


But the period granted for such indulgence was not of long duration,
for on the following morning the Tonnant, Ramilies, and two brigs stood
to sea; and on the 26th the rest of the fleet got under weigh and
followed the Admiral. It is impossible to conceive a finer sea-view
than this general stir presented. Our fleet amounted now to upwards of
fifty sail, many of them vessels of war, which shaking loose their
topsails, and lifting their anchors at the same moment, gave to Negril
Bay an appearance of bustle such as it has seldom been able to present.
In half an hour all the canvas was set, and the ships moved slowly and
proudly from their anchorage, till, having cleared the headlands, and
caught the fair breeze which blew without, they bounded over the water
with the speed of eagles, and long before dark the coast of Jamaica had
disappeared.

There is something in rapidity of motion, whether it be along a high
road or across the deep, extremely elevating; nor was its effect
unperceived on the present occasion. It is true that there were other
causes for the high spirits which now pervaded the armament, but I
question if any proved more efficient in their production than the
astonishing rate of our sailing. Whether the business we were about to
undertake would prove bloody or the reverse entered not into the
calculations of a single individual in the fleet. The sole subject of
remark was the speed with which we got over the ground, and the
probability that existed of our soon reaching the point of debarkation.
The change of climate, likewise, was not without its effect in
producing pleasurable sensations. The farther we got from Jamaica, the
more cool and agreeable became the atmosphere; from which circumstance
we were led to hope that, in spite of its southern latitude, New
Orleans would not be found so oppressively hot as we had been taught to
expect.

The breeze continuing without interruption, on the 29th we came in
sight of the island of Grand Cayman. It is a small speck in the middle
of the sea, lying so near the level of the water as to be unobservable
at any considerable distance. Though we passed along with prodigious
velocity, a canoe nevertheless ventured off from the shore, and making
its way through waves which looked as if they would swallow it up,
succeeded in reaching our vessel. It contained a white man and two
negroes, who brought off a quantity of fine turtle, which they gave us
in exchange for salt pork; and so great was the value put upon salt
provisions, that they bartered a pound and a half of the one for a
pound of the other. To us the exchange was very acceptable, and thus
both parties remained satisfied with their bargain.

Having lain-to till our turtle-merchants left us, we again filled and
stood our course. The land of Cayman was soon invisible; nor was any
other perceived till the 2nd of December, when the western shores of
Cuba presented themselves. Towards them we now directed the ship’s
head, and reaching in within a few miles of the beach, coasted along
till we had doubled the promontory, which forms one of the jaws of the
Mexican Gulf. Whilst keeping thus close to the shore, our sail was more
interesting than usual, for though this side of Cuba be low, it is
nevertheless picturesque, from the abundance of wood with which it is
ornamented. There are likewise several points where huge rocks rise
perpendicularly out of the water, presenting the appearance of old
baronial castles, with their battlements and lofty turrets; and it will
easily be believed that none of these escaped our observation. The few
books which we had brought to sea were all read, many of them twice and
three times through; and there now remained nothing to amuse except
what the variety of the voyage could produce.

But the shores of Cuba were quickly passed, and the old prospect of sea
and sky again met the gaze. There was, however, one circumstance from
which we experienced a considerable diminution of comfort. As soon as
we entered the gulf, a short disagreeable swell was perceptible;
differing in some respects from that in the Bay of Biscay, but to my
mind infinitely more unpleasant. So great was the motion, indeed, that
all walking was prevented; but as we felt ourselves drawing every hour
nearer and nearer to the conclusion of our miseries, this additional
one was borne without much repining. Besides, we found some amusement
in watching, from the cabin windows, the quantity and variety of weed
with which the surface of the gulf is covered. The current being here
extremely rapid, the weed sails continually in the same direction; that
is to say, it goes round by the opposite side of Cuba towards the banks
of Newfoundland, and is carried sometimes as far as Bermuda, and even
to the Western Isles.

It is not, however, my intention to continue the detail of this voyage
longer than may be interesting; I shall therefore merely state that,
the wind and weather having undergone some variations, it was the 10th
of December before the shores of America could be discerned. On that
day we found ourselves opposite to the Chandeleur Islands, and near the
entrance of Lake Borgne. There the fleet anchored, that the troops
might be removed from the heavy ships into such as drew least water;
and from this and other preparations it appeared that to ascend this
lake was the plan determined upon.

NEW ORLEANS.

But before I pursue my narrative further, it will be well if I
endeavour to give some account of the situation of New Orleans, and of
the nature of the country against which our operations were directed.

New Orleans is a town of some note, containing from twenty to thirty
thousand inhabitants. It stands upon the eastern bank of the
Mississippi, in 30 degrees north latitude, and about 110 miles from the
Gulf of Mexico. Though in itself unfortified, it is difficult to
conceive a place capable of presenting greater obstacles to an invader;
and at the same time more conveniently situated with respect to trade.
Built upon a narrow neck of land, which is confined on one side by the
river, and on the other by impassable morasses, its means of defence
require little explanation; and as these morasses extend to the
distance of only a few miles, and are succeeded by Lake Pontchartrain,
which again communicates through Lake Borgne[2] with the sea, its
peculiar commercial advantages must be equally apparent. It is by means
of the former of these lakes, indeed, that intercourse is maintained
between the city and the northern parts of West Florida, of which it is
the capital; a narrow creek, called in the language of the country a
bayo or bayouke, navigable for vessels drawing less than six feet
water, running up through the marsh, and ending within two miles of the
town. The name of this creek is the Bayouke of St. John, and its
entrance is defended by works of considerable strength.

 [2] These are, properly speaking, one and the same lake. From the
 entrance, however, as far as Ship Island, is called by the inhabitants
 Lake Borgne, whilst all above that point goes under the name of Lake
 Pontchartrain. They are both extremely shallow, varying from 12 to 6
 feet in depth.


But to exhibit its advantages in a more distinct point of view, it will
be necessary to say a few words respecting that mighty river upon which
it stands. The Mississippi (a corruption of the word Mechasippi,
signifying, in the language of the natives, “the father of rivers”) is
allowed to be inferior, in point of size and general navigability, to
few streams in the world. According to the Sioux Indians it takes its
rise from a large swamp, and is increased by many rivers emptying
themselves into its course as far as the Fall of St. Anthony, which, by
their account, is upwards of 700 leagues from its source. But this
fall, which is formed by a rock thrown across the channel, of about
twelve feet perpendicular height, is known to be 800 leagues from the
sea; and therefore the whole course of the Mississippi, from its spring
to its mouth, may be computed at little short of 5000 miles.

Below the fall of St. Anthony, again, the Mississippi is joined by a
number of rivers, considerable in point of size, and leading out of
almost every part of the continent of America. These are the St.
Pierre, which comes from the west; St. Croix, from the east; the
Moingona, which is said to run 150 leagues from the west, and forms a
junction about 250 below the fall; and the Illinois, which rises near
the lake Michigan, 200 leagues east of the Mississippi.

But by far the most important of these auxiliary streams is the
Missouri, the source of which is as little known as that of the Father
of Rivers himself. It has been followed by traders upwards of 400
leagues, who traffic with the tribes which dwell upon its banks, and
obtain an immense return for European goods. The mouth of this river is
five leagues below that of the Illinois, and is supposed to be 800 from
its source, which, judging from the flow of its waters, lies in a
north-west direction from the Mississippi. It is remarkable enough that
the waters of this river are black and muddy, and prevail over those of
the Mississippi, which running with a clear and gentle stream till it
meets with this addition, becomes from that time both dark and rapid.

The next river of note is the Ohio, which taking its rise near Lake
Erie, runs from the north-east to the south-west, and joins the
Mississippi about 70 leagues below the Missouri. Besides this there are
the St. Francis, an inconsiderable stream, and the Arkansas, which is
said to originate in the same latitude with Santa Fe in New Mexico, and
which, holding its course nearly 300 leagues, falls in about 200 above
New Orleans. Sixty leagues below the Arkansas, comes the Yazous from
the northeast; and about 58 nearer to the city is the Rouge, so called
from the colour of its waters, which are of a reddish dye, and tinge
those of the Mississippi at the time of the floods. Its source is in
New Mexico, and after running about 200 leagues it is joined by the
Noir 30 miles above the place where it empties itself into the
Mississippi.

Of all these rivers there is none which will not answer the purposes of
commerce, at least to a very considerable extent; and as they join the
Mississippi above New Orleans, it is evident that this city may be
considered as the general mart of the whole. Whatever nation,
therefore, chances to possess this place, possesses in reality the
command of a greater extent of country than is included within the
boundary-line of the whole United States since from every direction are
goods, the produce of East, West, North, and South America, sent down
by the Mississippi to the Gulf. But were New Orleans properly supplied
with fortifications, it is evident that no vessels could pass without
the leave of its governor; and therefore is it that I consider that
city as of greater importance to the American government than any other
within the compass of their territories.

Having said so much on its commercial advantages, let me now point out
more distinctly than I have yet done the causes which contribute to its
safety from all hostile attempts. The first of these is the shallowness
of the river at its mouth, and the extreme rapidity of the current.
After flowing on in one prodigious sheet of water, varying in depth
from one hundred to thirty fathoms, the Mississippi, previous to its
joining the Mexican Gulf, divides into four or five mouths, the most
considerable of which is encumbered by a sandbank continually liable to
shift. Over this bank no vessel drawing above seventeen feet water can
pass; when once across, however, there is no longer a difficulty in
being floated; but to anchor is hazardous, on account of the huge logs
which are constantly carried down the stream. Should one of these
strike the bow of the ship, it would probably dash her to pieces;
whilst, independent of this, there is always danger of drifting or
losing anchors, owing to the number of sunken logs which the
under-current bears along within a few feet of the bottom. All vessels
ascending the river are accordingly obliged, if the wind be foul, to
make fast to the trees upon the banks; because without a breeze at once
fair and powerful, it is impossible to stem the torrent.

But besides this natural obstacle to invasion, the mouth of the river
is defended by a fort, which from its situation may be pronounced
impregnable. It is built upon an artificial causeway, and is surrounded
on all sides by swamps totally impervious, which extend on both sides
of the river to a place called the Detour des Anglais, within twenty
miles of the city. Here two other forts are erected, one on each bank.
Like that at the river’s mouth, these are surrounded by a marsh, a
single narrow path conducting from the commencement of firm ground to
the gates of each. If, therefore, an enemy should contrive to pass both
the bar and the first fort, he must here be stopped, because all
landing is prevented by the nature of the soil; and however fair his
breeze may have hitherto been, it will not now assist his further
progress. At this point the Mississippi winds almost in a circle,
insomuch that vessels which arrive are necessitated to make fast till a
change of wind occur.

From the Detour des Anglais towards New Orleans the face of the country
undergoes an alteration. The swamp does not indeed end, but it narrows
off to the right, leaving a space of firm ground, varying, from three
to one mile in, width, between it and the river. At the back of this
swamp, again, which may be about six or eight miles across, come up the
waters of Lake Pontchartrain, and thus a neck of arable land is formed,
stretching for some way above the city. The whole of these morasses are
covered as far as the Detour with tall reeds; a little wood now
succeeds, skirting the open country, but the wood measures no more than
one mile in depth, when it again gives place to reeds. Such is the
aspect of that side of the river upon which the city is built; with
respect to the other I can speak with less confidence, having seen it
but cursorily. It appears, however, to resemble this in almost every
particular, except that it is more wooded and less confined with marsh.
Both sides are flat, containing no broken ground, nor any other cover,
for military movements; for on the open shore there are no trees,
except a few in the gardens of those houses which skirt the rivers; the
whole being laid out in large fields of sugar-cane; separated from one
another by rails and ditches.

From the preceding brief account of the country, the advantages
possessed by a defending army must; be apparent. To approach by the
river is out of the question, and therefore an enemy can land only from
the lake. But this can be done nowhere, except where creeks or bayos
offer convenience for that purpose, because the banks of the lake are
universally swampy; and can hardly supply footing for infantry, far
less for the transportation of artillery. Of these, however, there are
not above one or two which could be so used. The Bayo of St. John is
one; but it is too well defended, and too carefully guarded for any
attempts; and the Bayo of Catiline is another, about ten miles below
the city. That this last might be found useful in an attack, was proved
by the landing affected by our army at that point; but what is the
consequence? The invaders arrive upon a piece of ground, where the most
consummate generalship will be of little avail. If the defenders can
but retard their progress—which, by crowding the Mississippi with armed
vessels, may very easily be done, the labour of a few days will cover
the narrow neck with entrenchments; whilst the opposite bank remaining
in their hands, can at all times gall their enemy with a close and
deadly cannonade. Of wood, as I have already said, or broken ground
which might conceal an advance, there exists not a particle. Every
movement of the assailants must, therefore, be made under their eyes;
and as one flank of their army will be defended by a morass, and the
other by the river, they may bid defiance to all attempts at turning.

Such are the advantages of New Orleans; and now it is only fair that I
should state its disadvantages: these are owing solely the climate.
From the swamps with which it is surrounded, there arise, during the
summer months, exhalations extremely fatal to the health of its
inhabitants. For some months of the year, indeed, so deadly are the
effects of the atmosphere, that the garrison is withdrawn, and most of
the families retire from their houses to more genial spots, leaving the
town as much deserted as if it had been visited by a pestilence. Yet,
in spite of these cautions, agues and intermittent fevers abound here
at all times. Nor is it wonderful that the case should be so; for
independent of the vile air which the vicinity of so many putrid swamps
occasions, this country is more liable than perhaps any other to sudden
and severe changes of temperature. A night of keen frost sufficiently
powerful to produce ice a quarter of an inch in thickness, frequently
follows a day of intense heat; whilst heavy rains and bright sunshine
often succeed each other several times in the course of a few hours.
But these changes, as may supposed, occur only during the winter; the
summer being one continued series of intolerable heat and deadly fog.

LAKE BORGNE.

Of all these circumstances the conductors of the present expedition
were not ignorant. To reduce the forts which command the navigation of
the river was regarded as a task too difficult to be attempted; and for
any ships to pass without their reduction seemed impossible. Trusting,
therefore, that the object of the enterprise was unknown to the
Americans, Sir Alexander Cochrane and General Keane determined to
effect a landing somewhere on the banks of the lake; and pushing
directly on, to take possession of the town, before any effectual
preparation could be made for its defence. With this view the troops
were removed from the larger into the lighter vessels, and these, under
convoy of such gun-brigs as the shallowness of the water would float,
began on the 13th to enter Lake Borgne. But we had not proceeded far,
when it was apparent that the Americans were well acquainted with our
intentions, and ready to receive us. Five large cutters, armed with six
heavy guns each, were seen at anchor in the distances: and as all
endeavours to land, till these were captured, would have been useless,
the transports and largest of the gun-brigs cast anchor, whilst the
smaller craft gave chase to the enemy.

But these cutters were built purposely to act upon the lake. They
accordingly set sail as soon as the English cruisers arrived within a
certain distance, and running on, were quickly out of sight, leaving
the pursuers fast aground. To permit them to remain in the hands of the
enemy, however, would be fatal, because, as long as they commanded the
navigation of the lake, no boats could venture to cross. It was
therefore determined at all hazards, and at any expense, to take them;
and since our lightest craft could not float where they sailed, a
flotilla of launches and ships’ barges was got ready for the purpose.

This flotilla consisted of fifty open boats; most of them armed with a
carronade in the bow, and well manned with volunteers from the
different ships of war. The command was given to Captain Lockier, a
brave and skilful officer, who immediately pushed off; and about noon
came in sight of the enemy, moored fore and aft, with broadsides
pointing towards him. Having pulled a considerable distance, he
resolved to refresh his men before he hurried them into action; and,
accordingly, letting fall grapplings just beyond the reach of the
enemy’s guns, the crews of the different boats coolly ate their dinner.

As soon as that meal was finished, and an hour spent in resting, the
boats again got ready to advance. But, unfortunately, a light breeze
which had hitherto favoured them, now ceased to blow, and they were in
consequence compelled to make way only with the oar. The tide also ran
strong against them, at once increasing their labour and retarding
their progress; but all these difficulties appeared trifling to British
sailors; and, giving a hearty cheer, they moved steadily onward in one
extended line.

It was not long before the enemy’s guns opened upon them, and a
tremendous shower of balls saluted their approach. Some boats were
sunk, others disabled, and many men were killed and wounded; but the
rest pulling with all their might, and occasionally returning the
discharges from their carronades, succeeded, after an hour’s labour, in
closing with the Americans. The marines now began a deadly fire of
musketry; whilst the seamen, sword in hand, sprang up the vessels’
sides in spite of all opposition; and sabring every man that stood in
their way, hauled down the American ensign, and hoisted the British
flag in its place.

One cutter alone, which bore the commodore’s broad pendant, was not so
easily subdued. Having noted its pre-eminence, Captain Lockier directed
his own boat against it; and happening to have placed himself in one of
the lightest and fastest sailing barges in the flotilla, he found
himself alongside of his enemy before any of the others were near
enough to render him the smallest support. But nothing dismayed by odds
so fearful, the gallant crew of this small bark, following their
leader, instantly leaped on board the American. A desperate conflict
ensued, in which Captain Lockier received several severe wounds; but
after fighting from the bow to the stern, the enemy were at length
overpowered; and other barges coming up to the assistance of their
commander, the commodore’s flag shared the same fate with the others.

PINE ISLAND.

Having destroyed all opposition in this quarter, the fleet again
weighed anchor, and stood up the lake. But we had not been many hours
under sail, when ship after ship ran aground: such as still floated
were, therefore, crowded with the troops from those which could go no
farther, till finally the lightest vessel stuck fast; and the boats
were of necessity hoisted out, to carry us a distance of upwards of
thirty miles. To be confined for so long a time as the prosecution of
this voyage would require, in one posture, was of itself no very
agreeable prospect; but the confinement was but a trifling misery when
compared with that which arose from the change in the weather. Instead
of a constant bracing frost, heavy rains, such as an inhabitant of
England cannot dream of, and against which no cloak could furnish
protection, began. In the midst of these were the troops embarked in
their new and straitened transports, and each division, after an
exposure of ten hours, landed upon a small desert spot of earth, called
Pine Island, where it was determined to collect the whole army,
previous to its crossing over to the main.

Than this spot 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 [sic] firs upon the
very edge of the water, but these were so diminutive in size as hardly
to deserve a 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; and in truth we may fairly affirm that our hardships had here
their commencement. After having been exposed all day to a cold and
pelting rain, we 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.

For provisions, again, we were entirely dependent upon the fleet. There
were here no living creatures which would suffer themselves to be
caught; even the water-fowl being so timorous that it was impossible to
approach them within musket-shot. Salt meat and ship biscuit were,
therefore, our food, moistened by a small allowance of rum; fare which,
though no doubt very wholesome, was not such as to reconcile us to the
cold and wet under which we suffered.

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 inquire 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. Yet in spite of all this, not a murmur nor a whisper of
complaint could be heard throughout the whole expedition. No man
appeared to regard the present, whilst every one looked forward to the
future. 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 overweening 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 5000
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. The same persons likewise dilated
upon the wealth and importance of the town, upon the large quantities
of Government stores there collected, and the rich booty which would
reward its capture; subjects well calculated to tickle the fancy of
invaders, and to make them unmindful of immediate afflictions, in the
expectation of so great a recompense to come.




CHAPTER XIX.


It is well known that, at the period to which my narrative refers, an
alliance, offensive and defensive, subsisted between the Government of
Great Britain and the heads of as many Indian nations or tribes as felt
the aggressions of the settlers upon their ancient territories, and
were disposed to resent them. On this side of the continent our
principal allies were the Chaktaws and Cherokees, two nations whom war
and famine had reduced from a state of comparative majesty to the
lowest ebb of feebleness and distress. Driven from hunting-ground to
hunting-ground, and pursued like wild beasts wherever seen, they were
now confined to a narrow tract of country, lying chiefly along the
coasts of the gulf and the borders of the lakes which adjoin to it. For
some time previous to the arrival of the expedition, the warriors of
these tribes put themselves under the command of Colonel Nickolls, of
the Royal Marines, and continued to harass the Americans by frequent
incursions into the cultivated districts. It so happened, however,
that, being persuaded to attempt the reduction of a fort situated upon
Mobile Point, and being, as might be expected, repulsed with some loss,
their confidence in their leader, and their dependence upon British
aid, had begun of late to suffer a serious diminution. Though not very
profitable as friends, their local position and desultory mode of
warfare would have rendered them at this period exceedingly annoying to
us as enemies; it was accordingly determined to dispatch an embassy to
their settlements, for the purpose of restoring them to good humour, or
at least discovering their intentions.

Whilst the troops were assembling upon Pine Island, a cutter, having
proper officers on board, and carrying presents of clothing, arms, and
rum, was dispatched upon this business. It reached its place of
destination in safety, and the ambassadors found very little difficulty
in bringing back the fickle Indians to their wonted reliance upon
British support. Several of the chiefs and warriors, indeed, requested
and obtained permission to visit our Admiral and General, and to follow
the fortunes of our troops; and a very grotesque and singular
appearance they presented as they stood upon the quarter-deck of the
Tonnant. But the costume, habits, and customs of these savages have
been too frequently and too accurately described elsewhere, to render
any account of them on the present occasion desirable. It is sufficient
to observe, that whilst they gazed upon everything around them with a
look expressive of no astonishment whatever, they were themselves
objects of eager curiosity to us; and that they bore our close
inspection and somewhat uncourteous deportment with the most perfect
philosophy. But to my tale.

The enemy’s cutters having fallen into our hands, at an early hour on
the morning of the 16th the disembarkation of the troops began. So
deficient, however, was the fleet in boats and other small craft fit to
navigate the lakes, that it was late on the evening of the 21st before
the last division took up its ground upon Pine Island, and even then
the inconveniences of our descent were but beginning. The troops had
yet to be arranged in corps and brigades; to each of these its
proportion of Commissaries, Purveyors, and Medical attendants, &c.,
&c., required to be allotted; and some attempt at establishing depots
of provisions and military stores behoved to be made. In adjusting
these matters the whole of the 22nd was occupied, on which day the
General likewise reviewed the whole of the army. This being ended, the
force was next distributed into divisions, or corps; and the following
is the order it assumed.

Instead of a light brigade, the General resolved to set apart three
battalions as an advanced guard. The regiments nominated to that
service were the 4th, the 85th Light Infantry, and the 95th. Rifles;
and he selected Colonel Thornton of the 85th, as an officer of talent
and enterprise, to command them. Attached to this corps were a party of
rocket-men, with two light three-pounders— a species of gun convenient
enough, where celerity of movement is alone regarded, but of very
little real utility in the field. The rest of the troops were arranged,
as before, into two brigades. The first, composed of the 21st, 44th,
and one black regiment, was intrusted to Colonel Brook; and the second,
containing the 93rd and the other black corps, to Colonel Hamilton, of
the 7th West India regiment. To each of these, a certain proportion of
artillery and rockets was allotted: whilst the dragoons, who had
brought their harness and other appointments on shore, remained as a
sort of bodyguard to the General, till they should provide themselves
with horses.

The adjustment of these matters having occupied a considerable part of
the 22nd, it was determined that all things should remain as they were
till next morning. Boats, in the mean time, began to assemble from all
quarters, supplies of ammunition were packed, so as to prevent the
possibility of damage from moisture, and stores of various descriptions
were got ready. But it appeared that, even now, many serious
inconveniences must be endured, and obstacles surmounted, before the
troops could reach the scene of action. In the first place, from Pine
Island to that part of the main towards which prudence directed us to
steer, was a distance of no less than 80 miles. This, of itself, was an
obstacle, or at least an inconvenience, of no slight nature; for should
the weather prove boisterous, open boats, heavily laden with soldiers,
would stand little chance of escaping destruction in the course of so
long a voyage. In the next place, and what was of infinitely greater
importance, it was found that there were not, throughout the whole
fleet, a sufficient number of boats to transport above one third of the
army at a time. But to land in divisions would expose our forces to be
attacked in detail, by which means one party might be cut to pieces
before the others could arrive to its support. The undertaking was,
therefore, on the whole, extremely dangerous, and such as would have
been probably abandoned by more timid leaders. Ours, however, were not
so to be alarmed. They had entered upon a hazardous business, in
whatever way it should be prosecuted; and since they could not work
miracles, they resolved to lose no time in bringing their army into the
field in the best manner which circumstances would permit.

THE LAKE.

With this view, the advance, consisting of 1600 men and two pieces of
cannon, was next morning embarked. I have already stated that there is
a small creek, called the Bayo de Catiline, which runs up from Lake
Pontchartrain through the middle of an extensive morass, about ten
miles below New Orleans. Towards this creek were the boats directed,
and here it was resolved to effect a landing. When we set sail, the sky
was dark and lowering, and before long a heavy rain began to fall.
Continuing without intermission during the whole of the day, towards
night, it, as usual, ceased, and was succeeded by a sharp frost; which,
taking effect upon men thoroughly exposed, and already cramped by
remaining so long in one posture, rendered our limbs completely
powerless. Nor was there any means of dispelling the benumbing
sensation, or effectually resisting the cold. Fires of charcoal,
indeed, being lighted in the sterns of the boats, were permitted to
burn as long as daylight lasted; but as soon as it grew dark, they were
of necessity extinguished, lest the flame should be seen by row-boats
from the shore, and an alarm be thus communicated. Our situation was,
therefore, the reverse of agreeable; since even sleep was denied us,
from the apprehension of fatal consequences.

THE LAKE—LANDING.

Having remained in this uncomfortable state till midnight, the boats
cast anchor and hoisted awnings. There was a small piquet of the enemy
stationed at the entrance of the creek by which it was intended to
effect our landing. This it was absolutely necessary to surprise; and
whilst the rest lay at anchor, two or three fast-sailing barges were
pushed on to execute the service. Nor did they experience much
difficulty in accomplishing their object. Nothing, as it appeared, was
less dreamt of by the Americans than an attack from this quarter,
consequently no persons could be less on their guard than the party
here stationed. The officer who conducted the force sent against them,
found not so much as a single sentinel posted! but having landed his
men at two places, above and below the but which they inhabited,
extended his ranks so as to surround it, and closing gradually in, took
them all fast asleep, without noise or resistance.

When such time had been allowed as was deemed sufficient for the
accomplishment of this undertaking, the flotilla again weighed anchor,
and without waiting for intelligence of success, pursued their voyage.
Hitherto we had been hurried along at a rapid rate by a fair breeze,
which enabled us to carry canvas; but this now left us, and we made way
only by rowing. Our progress was therefore considerably retarded, and
the risk of discovery heightened by the noise which that labour
necessarily occasions; but in spite of these obstacles, we reached the
entrance of the creek by dawn; and about nine o’clock, were safely on
shore.

The place where we landed was as wild as it is possible to imagine.
Gaze where we might, nothing could be seen except one huge marsh
covered with tall reeds; not a house nor a vestige of human industry
could be discovered; and even of trees there were but a few growing
upon the banks of the creek. Yet it was such a spot as, above all
others, favoured our operations. No eye could watch us, or report our
arrival to the American General. By remaining quietly among the reeds,
we might effectually conceal ourselves from notice; because, from
appearance of all around, it was easy to perceive that the place which
we occupied had been seldom, if ever before, marked with a human
footstep. Concealment, however, was the thing of all others which we
required; for be it remembered that there were now only sixteen hundred
men on the mainland. The rest were still at Pine Island, where they
must remain till the boats which had transported us should return for
their conveyance, consequently many hours must elapse before this small
corps could be either reinforced or supported. If, therefore, we had
sought for a point where a descent might be made in secrecy and safety,
we could not have found one better calculated for that purpose than the
present; because it afforded every means of concealment to one part of
our force, until the others should be able to come up.

MARCH.

For these reasons, it was confidently expected that no movement would
be made previous to the arrival of the other brigades; but, in our
expectations of quiet, we were deceived. The deserters who had come in,
and accompanied us as guides, assured the General that he had only to
show himself, when the whole district would submit. They repeated, that
there were not five thousand men in arms throughout the State: that of
these, not more than twelve hundred were regular soldiers, and that the
whole force was at present several miles on the opposite side of the
town, expecting an attack on that quarter, and apprehending no danger
on this. These arguments, together with the nature of the ground on
which we stood, so ill calculated for a proper distribution of troops
in case of attack, and so well calculated to hide the movements of an
army acquainted with all the passes and tracks which, for aught we
knew, intersected the morass, induced our leader to push forward at
once into the open country. As soon, therefore, as the advance was
formed, and the boats had departed, we began our march, following an
indistinct path along the edge of the ditch or canal. But it was not
without many checks that we were able to proceed. Other ditches,
similar to that whose course we pursued, frequently stopped us by
running in a cross direction, and falling into it at right angles.
These were too wide to be leaped, and too deep to be forded;
consequently, on all such occasions, the troops were obliged to halt,
till bridges were hastily constructed of such materials as could be
procured, and thrown across.

Having advanced in this manner for several hours, we at length found
ourselves approaching a more cultivated region. The marsh became
gradually less and less continued, being intersected by wider spots of
firm ground; the reeds gave place, by degrees, to wood, and the wood to
inclosed fields. Upon these, however, nothing grew, harvest having long
ago ended. They accordingly presented but a melancholy appearance,
being covered with the stubble of sugar-cane, which resembled the reeds
which we had just quitted, in everything except altitude. Nor as yet
was any house or cottage to be seen. Though we knew, therefore, that
human habitations could not be far off, it was impossible to guess
where they lay, or how numerous they might prove; and as we could not
tell whether our guides might not be deceiving us, and whether
ambuscades might not be laid for our destruction as soon as we should
arrive where troops could conveniently act, our march was insensibly
conducted with increased caution and regularity.

But in a little while some groves of orange-trees presented selves; on
passing which two or three farm-houses appeared. Towards these, our
advanced companies immediately hastened, with the hope of surprising
the inhabitants, and preventing any from being raised. Hurrying on at
double-quick time, they surrounded the buildings, succeeded in securing
the inmates, capturing several horses; but becoming rather careless in
watching their prisoners, one man contrived to effect his escape. Now,
then, all hope of eluding observation might be laid aside. The rumour
of our landing would, we knew, spread faster than we could march; and
it only remained to make that rumour as terrible as possible.

With this view, the column was commanded to widen its files, and to
present as formidable an appearance as could be assumed. Changing our
order, in obedience to these directions, we marched, not in sections of
eight or ten abreast, but in pairs, and thus contrived to cover with
our small division as large a tract or ground as if we had mustered
thrice our present numbers. Our steps were likewise quickened, that we
might gain, if possible, some advantageous position, where we might be
able to cope with any force that might attack us; and thus hastening
on, we soon arrived at the main road which leads directly to New
Orleans. Turning to the right, we then advanced in the direction of
that town for about a mile; when, having reached a spot where it was
considered that we might encamp in comparative safety, our little
column halted; the men piled their arms, and a regular bivouac was
formed.

HALT.

The country where we had now established ourselves, answered, in every
respect, the description which I have already given of the neck of land
on which New Orleans is built. It was a narrow plain of about a mile in
width, bounded on one side by the Mississippi, and on the other by the
marsh from which we had just emerged. Towards the open ground this
marsh was covered with dwarf wood, having the semblance of a forest
rather than of a swamp; but on trying the bottom, it was found that
both characters were united, and that it was impossible for a man to
make his way among the trees, so boggy was the soil upon which they
grew. In no other quarter, however, was there a single hedge-row, or
plantation of any kind; excepting a few apple and other fruit trees in
the gardens of such houses as were scattered over the plain, the whole
being laid out in large fields for the growth of sugar-cane, a plant
which seems as abundant in this part of the world as in Jamaica.

Looking up towards the town, which we at this time faced, the marsh is
upon your right, and the river upon your left. Close to the latter runs
the main road, following the course of the stream all the way to New
Orleans. Between the road and the water is thrown up a lofty and strong
embankment, resembling the dykes in Holland, and meant to serve a
similar purpose; by means of which the Mississippi is prevented from
overflowing its banks, and the entire flat is preserved from
inundation. But the attention of a stranger is irresistibly drawn away
from every other object, to contemplate the magnificence of this noble
river. Pouring along at the prodigious rate of four miles an hour, an
immense body of water is spread out before you; measuring a full mile
across, and nearly a hundred fathoms in depth. What this mighty stream
must be near its mouth, I can hardly imagine, for we were here upwards
of a hundred miles from the ocean.

Such was the general aspect of the country which we had entered;—our
own position, again, was this. The three regiments turning off from the
road into one extensive green field, formed three close columns within
pistol-shot of the river. Upon our right, but so much in advance as to
be of no service to us, was a large house, surrounded by about twenty
wooden huts, probably intended for the accommodation of slaves. Towards
this house there was a slight rise in the ground, and between it and
the camp was a small pond of no great depth. As far to the rear as the
first was to the front, stood another house, inferior in point of
appearance, and skirted by no outbuildings: this was also upon the
right; and here General Keane, who accompanied us, fixed his
head-quarters; but neither the one nor the other could be employed as a
covering redoubt, the flank of the division extending, as it were,
between them. A little way in advance, again, where the outposts were
stationed, ran a dry ditch and a row of lofty palings; affording some
cover to the front of our line, should it be formed diagonally with the
main road. The left likewise was well secured by the river; but the
right and the rear were wholly unprotected. Though in occupying this
field, therefore, we might have looked very well had the country around
us been friendly, it must be confessed that our situation hardly
deserved the title of a military position.




CHAPTER XX.


Noon had just passed, when the word was given to halt, by which means
every facility was afforded of posting the piquet’s leisure and
attention. Nor was this deemed enough to secure tranquillity: parties
were sent out in all directions to reconnoitre, who returned with an
account that no enemy nor any trace of an enemy could be discerned. The
troops were accordingly suffered to light fires, and to make themselves
comfortable, only their accoutrements were not taken off, and the arms
were piled in such form as to be within reach at a moment’s notice.

As soon as these agreeable orders were issued, the soldiers to obey
them both in letter and in spirit. Tearing up a number of strong
palings, large fires were lighted in a moment; water was brought from
the river, and provisions were cooked. But their bare rations did not
content them. Spreading themselves over the country as far as a regard
to safety would permit, they entered every house, and brought away
quantities of hams, fowls, and wines of various descriptions; which
being divided among them, all fared well, and none received too large a
quantity. In this division of good things, they were not unmindful of
their officers; for upon active warfare the officers are considered by
the privates as comrades, to whom respect and obedience are due, rather
than as masters.

It was now about three o’clock in the afternoon, and all had as yet
remained quiet. The troops having finished their meal, lay stretched
beside their fires, or refreshed themselves by bathing, for to-day the
heat was such as to render this latter employment extremely agreeable,
when suddenly a bugle from the advanced posts sounded the alarm, which
was echoed back from all in the army. Starting up, we stood to our
arms, and prepared for battle, the alarm being now succeeded by some
firing; but we were scarcely in order, when intelligence arrived from
the front that there was no danger, only a few horse having made their
appearance, who were checked and put to flight at the first discharge.
Upon this information, our wonted confidence returned, and we again
betook ourselves to our former occupations, remarking that, as the
Americans had never yet dared to attack, there was no great probability
of their doing so on the present occasion.

In this manner the day passed without any further alarm; and darkness
having set in, the fires were made to blaze with increased splendour,
our evening meal was eaten, and we prepared to sleep. But 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 opposite to our camp; when her anchor was dropped, and her sails
leisurely furled. At first we were doubtful whether she might not be
one of our own cruisers which had passed the fort unobserved, and had
arrived to render her assistance in our future operations. To satisfy
this doubt, she was repeatedly hailed; but returning no answer, an
alarm immediately spread through the bivouac, and 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.

Against this destructive 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 at the best an
uncertain weapon, and these deviated too far from their object to
produce even terror amongst 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 the iron
hail. With this view, they were commanded to leave the fires, and to
hasten under the dyke. Thither all accordingly repaired, without much
regard to order and regularity, and laying ourselves along wherever we
could find room, we listened in painful silence to the pattering of
grape-shot among our huts, and to the shrieks and groans of those who
lay wounded beside them.

ATTACK.

The night was now as dark as pitch, the moon being but young, and
totally obscured with clouds. Our fires deserted by us, and beat about
by the enemy’s shot, began to burn red and dull, and, except when the
flashes of those guns which played upon us cast a momentary glare, not
an object could be distinguished at the distance of a yard. In this
state we lay for nearly an hour, unable to move from our ground, or
offer any opposition to those who kept us there; when a straggling fire
of musketry called our attention towards the piquets, and warned us to
prepare for a closer and more desperate struggle. As yet, however, it
was uncertain from what cause this dropping fire arose. It might
proceed from the sentinels, who, alarmed by the cannonade from the
river, mistook every tree for an American; and till the real state of
the case should be ascertained, it would be improper to expose the
troops by moving any of them from the shelter which the bank afforded.
But these doubts were not permitted to continue long in existence. The
dropping fire having paused for a few moments, was succeeded by a
fearful yell; and the heavens were illuminated on all sides by a
semi-circular blaze of musketry. It was now manifest that we were
surrounded, and that by a very superior force; and that no alternative
remained, except to surrender at discretion, or to beat back the
assailants.

The first of these plans was never for an instant thought of; the
second was immediately put into force. Rushing from under the bank, the
85th and 95th flew to support the piquets, whilst the 4th, stealing to
the rear of the encampment, formed close column, and remained as a
reserve. And now began a battle of which no language were competent to
convey any distinct idea; because it was one to which the annals of
modern warfare furnish no parallel. All order, all discipline were
lost. Each officer, as he succeeded in collecting twenty or thirty men
about him, plunged into the midst of the enemy’s ranks, where it was
fought hand to hand, bayonet to bayonet, and sabre to sabre.

I am well aware that he who speaks of his own deeds in the field of
battle lies fairly open to the charge of seeking to make a hero of
himself in the eyes of the public; and feeling this, it is not without
reluctance that I proceed to recount the part which I myself took in
the affair of this night. But, in truth, I must either play the egotist
awhile, or leave the reader without any details at all; inasmuch as the
darkness and general confusion effectually prevented me from observing
how others, except my own immediate party, were employed.

Offering this as my apology for a line of conduct which I should
otherwise blush to pursue, and premising that I did nothing, in my own
person, which was not done by my comrades at least as effectually, I go
on to relate as many of the particulars of this sanguinary conflict as
came under the notice of my own senses.

My friend Grey and myself had been supplied by our soldiers with a
couple of fowls taken from a neighbouring hen-roost, and a few bottles
of excellent claret, borrowed from the cellar of one of the houses
near. We had built ourselves a sort of hut, by piling together, in a
conical form, a number of large stakes and broad rails torn up from one
of the fences; and a bright wooden fire was blazing at the door of it.
In the wantonness of triumph, too, we had lighted some six or eight
wax-candles; a vast quantity of which had been found in the store-rooms
of the chateaux hard by; and having done ample justice to our luxurious
supper, we were sitting in great splendour and in high spirits at the
entrance of our hut, when the alarm of the approaching schooner was
communicated to us. With the sagacity of a veteran, Grey instantly
guessed how matters stood: he was the first to hail the suspicious
stranger; and on receiving no answer to his challenge, he was the first
to fire a musket in the direction of her anchorage. But he had scarcely
done so when she opened her broadside, causing the instantaneous
abandonment of fires, viands, and mirth throughout the bivouac.

As we contrived to get our men tolerably well around us, Grey and
myself were among the first who rushed forth to support the piquets and
check the advance of the enemy upon the right. Passing as rapidly as
might be through the ground of encampment amidst a shower of grape-shot
from the vessel, we soon arrived at the pond; which being forded, we
found ourselves in front of the farm-house of which I have already
spoken as composing the head-quarters of General Keane. Here we were
met by a few stragglers from the outposts, who reported that the
advanced companies were all driven in, and that a numerous division of
Americans was approaching. Having attached these fugitives to our
little corps, we pushed on, and in a few seconds reached the lower
extremity of a sloping stubble-field, at the other end of which we
could discern a long line of men, but whether they were friends or foes
the darkness would not permit ups to determine. We called aloud for the
purpose of satisfying our doubts; but the signal being disregarded, we
advanced. A heavy fire of musketry instantly opened upon us; but so
fearful was Grey of doing injury to our own troops, that he would not
permit it to be returned. We accordingly pressed on, our men dropping
by ones and twos on every side of us, till having arrived within twenty
or thirty yards of the object of our curiosity, it became to me evident
enough that we were in front of the enemy. Grey’s humane caution still
prevailed; he was not convinced, till he, should be convinced it was
but natural that he should alter his plans. There chanced to be near
the spot where we were standing a huge dung-heap, or rather a long
solid stack of stubble, behind which we directed the men to take
shelter whilst one of us should creep forward alone, for the purpose of
more completely ascertaining a fact of which all except my brave and
noble-minded comrade were satisfied. The event proved that my sight had
not deceived me: I approached within sabre’s length of the line; and
having ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt that the line was
composed of American soldiers, I returned to my friend and again urged
him to charge. But there was an infatuation upon him that night for
which I have ever been unable to account: he insisted that I must be
mistaken; he spoke of the improbability which existed that any part of
the enemy’s army should have succeeded in taking up a position in rear
of the station of one of our outposts, and he could not be persuaded
that the troops now before him were not the 95th Rifle corps. At last
it was agreed between us that we should separate; that Grey with one
half of the party should remain where he was, whilst I with the other
half should make a short detour to the right, and come down upon the
flank of the line from whose fire we had suffered so severely. The plan
was carried into immediate execution. Taking with me about a dozen or
fourteen men, I quitted Grey, and we never met again.

How or when he fell I know not; but, judging from the spot and attitude
in which I afterwards found his body, I conceive that my back could
have been barely turned upon him when the fatal ball pierced his brain.
He was as brave a soldier and as good a man as the British army can
boast of; beloved by his brother officers and adored by his men. To me
he was as a brother; nor have I ceased even now to feel, as often as
the 23rd of December returns, that on that night a tie was broken than
which the progress of human life will hardly furnish one more tender or
more strong. But to my tale.

Leaving Grey—careless as he ever was in battle of his own person, and
anxious as far as might be to secure the safety of his followers—I led
my little party in the direction agreed upon, and fortunately falling
in with about an equal number of English riflemen, I caused them to
take post beside my own men, and turned up to the front. Springing over
the paling, we found ourselves almost at once upon the left flank of
the enemy; and we lost not a moment in attacking it. But one volley was
poured in, and then bayonets, musket-butts, sabres, and even fists,
came instantly into play. In the whole course of my military career
remember no scene at all resembling this. We fought with the savage
ferocity of bull-dogs; and many a blade which till to-night had not
drunk blood became in a few minutes crimsoned enough.

Such a contest could not in the nature of things be of very long
continuance. The enemy, astonished at the vigour of our assault, soon
began to waver, and their wavering was speedily converted into flight.
Nor did we give them a moment’s time to recover from their panic. With
loud shouts we continued to press upon them; and amidst the most
horrible din and desperate carnage drove them over the field and
through the little village of huts, of which notice has already been
taken as surrounding the mansion on our advanced right. Here we found a
number of our own people prisoners, and under a guard of Americans. But
the guard fled as we approached, and our countrymen catching up such
weapons as came first to hand, joined in the pursuit.

In this spot I halted my party, increased by the late additions to the
number of forty; among whom were two gallant young officers of the
95th. We had not yet been joined, as I expected be joined, by Grey; and
feeling that we were at least far enough in advance of our own line, we
determined to attempt nothing further except to keep possession of the
village should it be attacked. But whilst placing the men in convenient
situations, another dark line was pointed out to us considerably to the
left our position. That we might ascertain at once of what troops was
composed, I left my brother officers to complete the arrangements which
we had begun, and walking down the field, demanded in a loud voice to
be informed who they were that kept post in so retired a situation. A
voice from the throng made answer that they were Americans, and begged
of me not fire upon my friends. Willing to deceive them still further,
I asked to what corps they belonged; the speaker replied that they were
the second battalion of the first regiment, and inquired what had
become of the first battalion. I told him that it was upon my right,
and assuming a tone of authority, commanded him not to move from his
present situation till I should join him with a party of which I was at
the head.

The conversation ended here, and I returned to the village; when,
communicating the result of my inquiries to my comrades, we formed our
brave little band into line and determined to attack. The men were
cautioned to preserve a strict silence, and not to fire a shot till
orders were given; they observed these injunctions, and with fixed
bayonets and cautious tread advanced along the field. As we drew near,
I called aloud for the commanding officer of the second regiment to
step forward, upon which an elderly man, armed with a heavy dragoon
sabre, stepped out of the ranks. When he discovered by our dress that
we were English, this redoubtable warrior lost all self-command; he
resigned his sword to me without a murmur, and consented at once to
believe that his battalion was surrounded, and that to offer any
resistance would but occasion a needless loss of blood. Nor was he
singular in these respects: his followers, placing implicit reliance in
our assurances that they were hemmed in on every side by a very
superior force, had actually begun to lay down their arms, and would
have surrendered, in all probability, at discretion, but for the
superior gallantry of one man. An American officer, whose sword I
demanded, instead of giving it up as his commander had done, made a cut
at my head, which with some difficulty I managed to ward off; and a few
soldiers near him, catching ardour from his example, discharged their
pieces among our troops. The sound of firing was no sooner heard than
it became general, and as all hope of success by stratagem might now be
laid aside, we were of necessity compelled to try the effect of
violence. Again we rushed into the middle of the throng, and again was
the contest that of man to man, in close and desperate strife; till a
panic arising among the Americans, they dispersed in all directions and
left us masters of the field.

In giving a detail so minute of my own adventures this night, I beg to
repeat what has been stated already, that I have no wish whatever to
persuade my readers that I was one whit more cool or more daring than
my companions. Like them I was driven to depend, from first to last,
upon my own energies; and I believe the energies of few men fail them
when they are satisfied that on them alone they must depend. Nor was
the case different with my comrades. Attacked unexpectedly, and in the
dark, surrounded, too, by a numerous enemy, and one who spoke the same
language with ourselves, it is not to be wondered at if the order and
routine of civilised warfare were everywhere set at nought. Each man
who felt disposed to command was obeyed by those who stood near him,
without any question being asked as to his authority; and more feats of
individual gallantry were performed in this single night than many
regular campaigns might furnish an opportunity to perform.

The night was far spent, and the sound of firing had begun to wax
faint, when, checking the ardour of our brave followers, we collected
them once more together and fell back into the village. Here likewise
considerable numbers from other detachments assembled, and here we
learned that the Americans were repulsed on every side. The combat had
been long and obstinately contested: it began at eight o’clock in the
evening and continued till three in the morning—but the victory was
ours. True, it was the reverse of a bloodless one, not fewer than two
hundred fifty of our best men having fallen in the struggle: but even
at the expense of such a loss, we could not but account ourselves
fortunate in escaping from the snare in which we had confessedly taken.

To me, however, the announcement of the victory brought no rejoicing,
for it was accompanied with the intelligence that my friend was among
the killed. I well recollect the circumstances under which these sad
news reached me. I was standing with a sword in each hand—my own and
that of the officer who had surrendered to me, and, as the reader may
imagine, in no bad humour with myself or with the brave fellows about
me, when a brother officer stepping forward abruptly told the tale. It
came me upon me like a thunderbolt; and casting aside my trophy,
thought only of the loss which I had sustained. Regardless of every
other matter I ran to the rear, and found Grey lying behind the
dung-heap, motionless and cold. A little pool of blood which had
coagulated under his head, pointed out the spot where the ball had
entered, and the position of his limbs gave proof that he must have
died without a struggle. I cannot pretend to describe what were then my
sensations, but of whatever nature they might be, little time was given
for their indulgence; the bugle sounding the alarm, I was compelled to
leave him as he lay, and to join my corps. Though the alarm proved to
be a false one, it had the good effect of bringing all the troops
together, by which means a regular line was now, for the first time
since the commencement of the action, formed. In this order, having
defiled considerably to the left, so as to command the highway, we
stood in front of our bivouac till dawn began to appear; when, to avoid
the fire of the schooner, we once more moved to the river’s bank and
lay down. Here, during the whole of the succeeding day, the troops were
kept shivering in the cold frosty air, without fires, without
provisions, and exhausted with fatigue; nor was it till the return of
night that any attempt to extricate them from their comfortless
situation could be made.

FIELD OF BATTLE.

Whilst others were thus reposing, I stole away with two or three men
for the purpose of performing the last sad act of affection which it
was possible for me to perform to my friend Grey. As we had completely
changed our ground, it was not possible for me at once to discover the
spot where he lay; indeed I traversed a large portion of the field
before I hit upon it. Whilst thus wandering over the arena of last
night’s contest, the most shocking and most disgusting spectacles
everywhere met my eyes. I have frequently beheld a greater number of
dead bodies within as narrow a compass, though these, to speak the
truth, were numerous enough, but wounds more disfiguring or more
horrible I certainly never witnessed. A man shot through the head or
heart lies as if he were in a deep slumber; insomuch that when you gaze
upon him you experience little else than pity. But of these, many had
met their deaths from bayonet wounds, sabre cuts, or heavy blows from
the butt ends of muskets; and the consequence was, that not only were
the wounds themselves exceedingly frightful, but the very countenances
of the dead exhibited the most savage and ghastly expressions. Friends
and foes lay together in small groups of four or six, nor was it
difficult to tell almost the very hand by which some of them had
fallen. Nay, such had been the deadly closeness of the strife, that in
one or two places an English and American soldier might be seen with
the bayonet of each fastened in the other’s body.

Having searched for some time in vain, I at length discovered my friend
lying where during the action we had separated, and where, when the
action came to a close, I had at first found him, shot through the
temples by a rifle bullet so remarkably small as scarcely to leave any
trace of its progress. I am well aware that this is no fit place to
introduce the working of my own personal feelings, but he was my
friend, and such a friend as few men are happy enough to possess. We
had known and loved each other for years; our regard had been cemented
by a long participation in the same hardships and dangers, and it
cannot; therefore surprise, if even now I pay that tribute to his worth
and our friendship which, however unavailing it may be, they both
deserve.

When in the act of looking for him I had flattered myself that I should
be able to bear his loss with something like philosophy, but 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. But this
was no time for the indulgence of useless sorrow. Like the royal bard,
I knew that I should go to him, but he could not return to me, and I
knew not whether an hour would pass before my summons might arrive.
Lifting him therefore upon a cart, I had him carried down to
head-quarter house, now converted into an hospital, and having dug for
him a grave at the bottom of the garden, I laid him there as a soldier
should be laid, arrayed, not in a shroud, but in his uniform. Even the
privates whom I brought with me to assist at his funeral mingled their
tears with mine, nor are many so fortunate as to return to the parent
dust more deeply or more sincerely lamented.

FIELD OF BATTLE—HOSPITAL.

Retiring from the performance of this melancholy duty, I strolled into
the hospital and visited the wounded. It is here that war loses its
grandeur and show, and presents only a real picture of its effects.
Every room in the house was crowded with wretches mangled, and
apparently in the most excruciating agonies. Prayers, groans, and, I
grieve to add, the most horrid exclamations, smote upon the ear
wherever I turned. Some lay at length upon straw, with eyes half closed
and limbs motionless; some endeavoured to start up, shrieking with
pain, while the wandering eye and incoherent speech of others indicated
the loss of reason, and usually foretold the approach of death. But
there was one among the rest whose appearance was too horrible ever to
be forgotten. He had been shot through the windpipe, and the breath
making its way between the skin and the flesh had dilated him to a size
absolutely terrific. His head and face were particularly shocking.
Every feature was enlarged beyond what can well be imagined; whilst his
eyes were so completely hidden by the cheeks and forehead as to destroy
all resemblance to a human countenance.

Passing through the apartments where the private soldiers lay, I next
came to those occupied by officers. Of these there were five or six in
one small room, to whom little better accommodation could be provided
than to their inferiors. It was a sight peculiarly distressing, because
all of them chanced to be personal acquaintances of my own. One had
been shot in the head, and lay gasping and insensible; another had
received a musket- ball in the belly, which had pierced through and
lodged in the backbone. The former appeared to suffer but little,
giving no signs of life, except what a heavy breathing produced; the
latter was in the most dreadful agony, screaming out, and gnawing the
covering under which he lay. There were many besides these, some
severely and others slightly hurt; but as I have already dwelt at
sufficient length upon a painful subject, I shall only observe, that to
all was afforded every assistance which circumstances would allow, and
that the exertions of their medical attendants were such as deserved
and obtained the grateful thanks of even the most afflicted among the
sufferers themselves.




CHAPTER XXI.

ADVANCE.


In the mean time the rest of the troops were landing as fast as
possible, and hastening to join their comrades. Though the advance had
set out from Pine Island by themselves, they did not occupy all the
boats in the fleet. Part of the second brigade, therefore, had embarked
about twelve hours after their departure; and rowing leisurely on, were
considerably more than half way across the lakes when the action began.
In the stillness of night, however, it is astonishing at what distance
a noise is heard. Though they must have been at least twenty miles from
the Bayo when the schooner first opened her fire, the sound reaching
them roused the rowers from their indolence, who, pulling with all
their might, hurried on, whilst the most profound silence reigned among
the troops, and, gaining the creek in little more than three hours,
sent fresh reinforcements to share in the danger and glory of the
night.

Nor was a moment lost by the sailors in returning to the island.
Intelligence of the combat spread like wildfire; the boats were loaded
even beyond what was strictly safe, and thus, by exerting themselves in
a degree almost unparalleled, our gallant seamen succeeded in bringing
the whole army into position before dark on the 24th. The second and
third brigades, therefore, now took up their ground upon the spot where
the late battle had been fought, and, resting their right upon the
woody morass, extended so far towards the river, as that the advance by
wheeling up might continue the line across the entire plain.

But instead of taking part in this formation, the advance was still
fettered to the bank, from which it was additionally prevented from
moving by the arrival of another large ship, which, cast anchor about a
mile above the schooner. Thus were three battalions kept stationary by
the guns of these two formidable floating batteries, and it was clear
that no attempt to extricate them could be made without great loss,
unless under cover of night. During the whole of the 24th, therefore,
they remained in this uncomfortable situation; but as soon as darkness
had well set in, a change of position was effected. Withdrawing the
troops, company by company, from behind the bank, General Keane
stationed them in the village of huts, by which means the high road was
abandoned to the protection of a piquet, and the left of the army
covered by a large chateau.

Being now placed beyond risk of serious annoyance from the shipping the
whole army remained quiet for the night. How long we were to continue
in this state nobody appeared to know; not a whisper was circulated as
to the time of advancing, nor a surmise ventured respecting the next
step likely to be taken. In our guides to whose rumours we had before
listened with avidity, no confidence was reposed. It was quite evident,
either that they had purposely deceived us, or that their information
was gathered from a most imperfect source; and hence, though they were
not exactly placed in confinement, they were strictly watched, and
treated more like spies than deserters. Instead of an easy conquest, we
had already met with a vigorous opposition; instead of finding the
inhabitants ready and eager to join us, we found the houses deserted,
the cattle and horses driven away, and every appearance of hostility.
To march by the only road was rendered impracticable; so completely was
it commanded by the shipping. In a word, all things had turned out
diametrically opposite to what had been anticipated; and it appeared
that, instead of a trifling affair more likely to fill our pockets than
to add to our renown, we had embarked in an undertaking which presented
difficulties not to be surmounted without patience and determination.

Having effected this change of position, and covered the front of his
army with a strong chain of outposts, General Keane, as I have said,
remained quiet during the remainder of the night, and on the morrow was
relieved from further care and responsibility by the unexpected arrival
of Sir Edward Pakenham and General Gibbs. As soon as the death of Ross
was known in London, the former of these officers was dispatched to
take upon himself the command of the army. Sailing immediately with the
latter as his second in command, he had been favoured during the whole
voyage by a fresh and fair wind, and now arrived in time to see his
troops brought into a predicament 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
everything, therefore, from a change, they greeted their new leader
with a hearty cheer; whilst the confidence which past events had tended
in some degree to dispel, returned once more to the bosoms of all. It
was Christmas-day, and a number of officers, clubbing their little
stock of provisions, resolved to dine together in memory of former
times. But 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. A few
guesses as to the probable success of future attempts alone relieved
this topic, and now and then a shot from the schooner drew our
attention to ourselves; for though too far removed from the river to be
in much danger, we were still within cannon-shot of our enemy. Nor was
she inactive in her attempts to molest. Elevating her guns to a great
degree, she contrived occasionally to strike the wall of the building
within which we sat; but the force of the ball was too far spent to
penetrate, and could therefore produce no serious alarm.

Whilst we were thus sitting at table a loud shriek was heard after one
of these explosions, and on running out we found that a shot had taken
effect in the body of an unfortunate soldier. I mention this incident
because I never beheld in any human being so great a tenacity of life.
Though fairly cut in two at the lower part of the belly, the poor
wretch lived for nearly an hour, gasping for breath and giving signs
even of pain.

But to return to my narrative. As soon as he reached the camp Sir
Edward proceeded to examine with a soldier’s eye every point and place
within view. Of the American army nothing, whatever could be perceived
except a corps of observation, composed of five or six hundred mounted
riflemen, which hovered along our front and watched our motions. The
town itself was completely hid; nor was it possible to see beyond the
distance of a very few miles either in front or rear, so flat and
unbroken was the face of the country. Under these circumstances little
insight into the state of affairs could be obtained by reconnoitring.
The only, thing, indeed, which he could learn from it was, that while
the vessels kept their present station upon river no advance could be
made; and as he felt that every moment’s delay was injurious to us and
favourable to the enemy, he resolved to remove these incumbrances and
to push forward as soon as possible.

With this view nine field-pieces, two howitzers, and one mortar were
brought down to the brink of the stream as soon as it was dark. Working
parties were likewise ordered out, by whom was thrown up opposite to
the schooner; and having got all things in readiness, at dawn on the
26th a heavy cannonade was opened upon her with red-hot shot. It was
not long before we could perceive her crew hastening into their boats,
whilst the smoke which began to rise from her decks proved that the
balls had taken effect. She was, in fact, on fire, and being abandoned
without resistance, in little more than an hour she blew up. In itself
the sight was a fine one, but to us it was peculiarly gratifying, for
we could not but experience something like satiated revenge at the
destruction of a vessel from which we had suffered so much damage. A
loud shout accordingly followed the explosion, and the guns were
immediately turned against the ship. But the fate of her companion had
warned her not to remain till she herself should be attacked. Setting
every inch of canvas, and hoisting out her boats, she began, to stem
the stream at the very instant the schooner took fire, and being
impelled forward both by towing and sailing, she succeeded in getting
beyond the range of shot before the guns could be brought to bear. One
shell, however, was thrown with admirable precision, which falling upon
her deck caused considerable execution; but excepting this, she escaped
without injury, and did not anchor again till she had got too far for
pursuit.

Having thus removed all apparent obstacles to his future progress, the
General made dispositions for a speedy advance. Dividing the army into
two columns, he appointed General Gibbs to the command of one, and
General Keane to the command of the other. The left column, led on by
the latter officer, consisted of the 95th, the 85th, the 93rd, and one
black corps; the right, of the 4th, 21st, 44th, and the other black
corps. The artillery, of which we had now ten pieces in the field,
though at present attached to the left column, was designed to act as
circumstances and the nature of the ground would permit; whilst the
dragoons, few of whom had as yet provided themselves with horses, were
appointed to guard the hospitals, and to secure the wounded from any
sudden surprise or molestation from the rear.

But the day was too far spent in making these arrangements, and in
clearing the way for future operations, to permit any movement before
the morrow. The whole of the 26th was therefore spent in bringing up
stores, ammunition, and a few heavy guns from the ships, which being
placed in battery upon the banks of the river, secured us against the
return of our floating adversary. All this was done quietly enough, nor
was there any cause of alarm till after sunset; but from that time till
towards dawn, we were kept in a constant state of anxiety and
agitation. Sending down small bodies of riflemen, the American General
harassed our piquets, killed and wounded a few of the sentinels, and
prevented the main body from obtaining any sound refreshing sleep.
Scarcely had the troops lain down when they were roused by a sharp
firing at the outposts, which lasted only till they were in order, and
then ceased; but as soon as they had dispersed and had once more
addressed themselves to repose, the same cause of alarm returned, and
they were again called to their ranks. Thus was the entire night spent
in watching, or at best in broken and disturbed slumbers, than which
nothing is more trying, both to the health and spirits of an army.

With the piquets, again, it fared even worse. For the outposts of an
army to sleep is at all times considered as a thing impossible; but in
modern and civilized warfare they are nevertheless looked upon as in
some degree sacred. Thus, whilst two European armies remain inactively
facing each other, the outposts of neither are molested, unless a
direct attack upon the main body be intended; nay, so far is this tacit
good understanding carried, that I have myself seen French and English
sentinels not more than twenty yards apart. But the Americans
entertained no such chivalric notions. An enemy was to them an enemy,
whether alone or in the midst of five thousand companions; and they
therefore counted the death of every individual as so much taken from
the strength of the whole. In point of fact they no doubt reasoned
correctly, but to us at least it appeared an ungenerous return to
barbarity. Whenever they could approach unperceived within proper
distance of our watch-fires, six or eight riflemen would fire amongst
the party that sat around them, while one or two, stealing as close to
each sentinel as a regard to their own safety would permit, acted the
part of assassins rather than that of soldiers, and attempted to murder
him in cold blood. For the officers, likewise, when going their rounds,
they constantly lay in wait, and thus, by a continued dropping fire,
they not only wounded some of those against whom their aim was
directed, but occasioned considerable anxiety and uneasiness throughout
the whole line.

It was on this night, and under these circumstances, that I was
indebted to the vigilance of my faithful dog for my life. Amid all the
bustle of landing, and throughout the tumult of the nocturnal battle,
she never strayed from me; at least if she did lose me for a time, she
failed not to trace me out again as soon as order was restored, for I
found her by my side when the dawn of the 24th came in, and I never
lost sight of her afterwards. It was my fortune on the night of the
26th to be put in charge of an outpost on the left front of the army;
on such occasions I seldom experienced the slightest inclination to
sleep; and on the present, I made it a point to visit my sentinels at
least once in every, half-hour. Going my rounds for this purpose, it
was necessary that I should pass a little copse of low underwood, just
outside the line of our videttes; and I did pass it again and again,
without meeting with any adventure. But about an hour after midnight,
my dog, which, as usual, trotted a few paces before me, suddenly
stopped short at the edge of the thicket, and began to bark violently,
and in great apparent anger. I knew the animal well enough to be aware
that some cause must exist for such conduct; and I too stopped short,
till I should ascertain whether danger were near. It was well for me
that I had been thus warned; for at the instant of my halting, about
half a dozen muskets were discharged from the copse, the muzzles of
which, had I taken five steps forward, must have touched my body. The
balls whizzed harmlessly past my head; and, on my returning the fire
with the pistol which I carried in my hand, the ambuscade broke up, and
the party composing it took to their heels. I was Quixote enough to
dash sword in hand into the thicket after them: but no one waited for
me; so I continued my perambulations in peace.

MARCH.

Having continued this detestable system of warfare till towards
morning, the enemy retired and left us at rest. But as soon as day
began to break, our piquets were called in, and the troops formed in
order of attack. The right column, under General Gibbs, took post near
the skirts of the morass, throwing out skirmishers half way across the
plain, whilst the left column drew up upon the road covered by the
rifle corps, which in extended order met the skirmishers from the
other. With this last division went the artillery, already well
supplied with horses; and, at the signal given the whole moved forward.

It was a clear frosty morning, the mists had dispersed, and the sun
shone brightly upon our arms when we began our march. The enemy’s corps
of observation fell back as we advanced, without offering in any way to
impede our progress, and it was impossible to guess, ignorant as we
were of the position of his main body, at what moment opposition might
be expected. Nor, in truth, was it matter of much anxiety. Our spirits,
in spite of the troubles of the night, were good, and our expectations
of success were high, consequently many rude jests were bandied about,
and many careless words spoken: for soldiers are, of all classes of
men, the freest from care, and on that account, perhaps, the most
happy. By being continually exposed to it, danger, with them, ceases to
be frightful; of death they have no more terror than the beasts that
perish; and even hardships, such as cold, wet, hunger, and broken rest,
lose at least part of their disagreeableness, by the frequency of their
recurrence.

Moving on in this merry mood, we advanced about four or five miles
without the smallest check or hindrance; when, at length, we found
ourselves in view of the enemy’s army, posted in a very advantageous
manner. About forty yards in their front was a canal, which extended
from the morass to within a short distance of the high road. Along
their line were thrown up breastworks, not indeed completed, but even
now formidable. Upon the road at several other points were erected
powerful batteries; whilst the ship, with a large flotilla of
gun-boats, flanked the whole position from the river.

ATTACK.

When I say that we came in sight of the enemy, I do not mean that he
was gradually exposed to us in such a manner as to leave time for cool
examination and reflection. On the right, indeed, he was seen for some
time, but on the left a few houses built at a turning in the road
entirely concealed him; nor was it till they gained that turning, and
beheld the muzzles of his guns pointed towards them, that those who
moved in this direction were aware of their proximity to danger. But
that danger was indeed near they were quickly taught; for scarcely had
the head of the column passed the houses when a deadly fire was opened
from both the battery and the shipping. That the Americans are
excellent marksmen, 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 ball passed over or fell short of its
mark, but all 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 against them one or two guns, loaded with
red-hot shot, in an instant set them on fire. The scene was altogether
very sublime. A tremendous cannonade mowed down our ranks, and deafened
us with its roar; whilst two large chateaux and their outbuildings
almost scorched us with the flames, and blinded us with the smoke which
they emitted.

The infantry, however, was not long suffered to remain thus exposed;
but 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. But the
contest was in every respect unequal, since their artillery far
exceeded ours, both in numerical strength and weight of metal. The
consequence was, that in half an hour two of our field-pieces and one
field-mortar were dismounted: many of the gunners were killed; and the
rest, after an ineffectual attempt to silence the fire of the shipping,
were obliged to retire.

In the mean time the infantry having formed line, advanced under a
heavy discharge of round and grape shot, till they were checked by the
appearance of the canal. Of its depth they were of course ignorant, and
to attempt its passage without having ascertained whether it could be
forded might have been productive of fatal consequences. A halt was
accordingly ordered, and the men were commanded to shelter themselves
as well as they could from the enemy’s fire. For this purpose they were
hurried into a wet ditch, of sufficient depth to cover the knees,
where, leaning forward, they concealed themselves behind some high
rushes which grew upon its brink, and thus escaped many bullets which
fell around them in all directions.

RETREAT.

Thus fared it with the left of the army, whilst the right, though less
exposed to the cannonade, was not more successful in its object. The
same impediment which checked one column forced the other likewise to
pause; and after having driven in an advanced body of the enemy, and
endeavoured, without effect, to penetrate through the marsh, it also
was commanded to halt. In a word, all thought of attacking was for this
day abandoned; and it now only remained to withdraw the troops from
their present perilous situation, with as little loss as possible.

The first thing to be done was to remove the dismounted guns. Upon this
enterprise a party of seamen were employed, who, running forward to the
spot where they lay, lifted them, in spite of the whole of the enemy’s
fire, and bore them off in triumph. As soon as this was effected,
regiment after regiment stole away; not in a body, but one by one,
under the same discharge which saluted their approach. But a retreat
thus conducted necessarily occupied much time. Noon had therefore long
passed before the last corps was brought off; and when we again began
to muster twilight was approaching. We did not, however, retire to our
former position; but having fallen back only about two miles from the
canal, where it was supposed that we should be beyond reach of
annoyance from the American artillery, we there established ourselves
for the night, having suffered less during the day than, from our
exposed situation and the enemy’s heavy fire, might have been expected.

The ground which we now occupied resembled, in almost every particular,
that which we had quitted. We again extended across the plain, from the
marsh to the river; no wood or cover of any description concealing our
line, or obstructing the view of either army; while both in front and
rear was an open space, laid out in fields and intersected by narrow
ditches. Our outposts, however were pushed forward to some houses
within a few hundred yards of the enemy’s works, sending out advanced
sentinels even farther; and the head-quarters of the army were
established near the spot where the action of the 23rd had been fought.

PREPARATIONS.

In this state we remained during the 28th, the 29th, and 30th, without
any efforts being made to fortify our own position, or to annoy that of
the enemy. Some attempts were, I believe, set on foot to penetrate into
the wood on the right of our line, and to discover a path through the
morass, by which the enemy’s left might be turned. But all of these
proved fruitless, and a few valuable lives having been sacrificed, the
idea was finally laid aside. In the meanwhile the American General
directed the whole of his attention to the strengthening of his post.
Day and night we could observe numerous parties at work upon his lines,
whilst from the increased number of tents, which almost every hour
might be discerned, it was evident that strong reinforcements were
continually pouring into his camp. Nor did he leave us totally
unmolested. By giving to his guns a great degree of elevation, he
contrived at last to reach our bivouac; and thus were we constantly
under a cannonade which, though it did little execution, proved
nevertheless extremely annoying. Besides this, he now began to erect
batteries on the opposite bank of the river; from which a flanking fire
could be thrown across the entire front of his position. In short, he
adopted every precaution which prudence could suggest, and for the
reception of which the nature of his ground was so admirably adapted.

Under these circumstances it was evident that the longer an attack was
delayed the less likely was it to succeed; that something must be done
immediately every one perceived, but how to proceed was the difficulty.
If we attempted to storm the American lines, we should expose ourselves
to almost certain destruction from their artillery; to turn them was
impossible; and to draw their troops by any manoeuvring from behind
their entrenchments was a thing altogether out of the question. There
seemed therefore to be but one practicable mode of assault; which was,
to treat these field-works as one would treat a regular fortification;
by erecting breaching batteries against them, and silencing, if it were
possible, at least some of their guns. To this plan, therefore, our
leader had recourse; and, in consequence, the whole of these three days
were employed in landing heavy cannon, bringing up ammunition, and
making such preparations as might have sufficed for a siege.

At length, having completed his arrangements, and provided such means
as were considered sufficient to ensure success, General Pakenham
determined to commence operations without delay. One half of the army
was accordingly ordered out on the night of the 31st, and marched to
the front, passing the piquets, and halting about three hundred yards
from the enemy’s line. Here it was resolved to throw up a chain of
works; and here the greater part of this detachment, laying down their
firelocks, applied themselves vigorously to their tasks, whilst the
rest stood armed and prepared for their defence.

The night was dark, and our people maintained a profound silence; by
which means, not an idea of what was going on existed in the American
camp. As we laboured, too, with all diligence, six batteries were
completed long before dawn, in which were mounted thirty pieces of
heavy cannon; when, falling back a little way, we united ourselves to
the remainder of the infantry, and lay down behind some rushes, in
readiness to act, as soon as we should be wanted.

In the erection of these batteries, a circumstance occurred worthy of
notice, on account of its singularity. I have already stated that the
whole of this district was covered with the stubble of sugar-cane; and
I might have added, that every storehouse and barn, attached to the
different mansions scattered over it, was filled with barrels of sugar.
In throwing up these works, the sugar was used instead of earth.
Rolling the hogsheads towards the front, they were placed upright in
the parapets of batteries; and it was computed that sugar to the value
of many thousand pounds sterling was thus disposed of.




CHAPTER XXII.

PREPARATIONS—ATTACK.


The infantry having retired, and the gunners taken their station, dawn
was anxiously expected. But the morning of the 1st of January chanced
to be peculiarly gloomy. A thick haze obscured for a long time the rays
of the sun, nor could objects be discerned with any accuracy till a
late hour.

But at length the mist gave way, and the American camp was fully
exposed to view. Being at this time only three hundred yards distant,
we could perceive all that was going forward with great exactness. The
different regiments were upon parade; and being dressed in holiday
suits, presented really a fine appearance. Mounted officers were riding
backwards and forwards through the, ranks, bands were playing, and
colours floating in the air; in a word, all seemed jollity and gala;
when suddenly our batteries opened, and the face of affairs was
instantly changed. The ranks were broken; the different corps
dispersing, fled in all directions, whilst the utmost terror and
disorder appeared to prevail. Instead of nicely-dressed lines, nothing
but confused crowds could now be observed; nor was it without much
difficulty that order was finally restored. Oh, that we had charged at
that instant!

RETREAT—PAUSE.

Whilst this consternation prevailed among the infantry, their artillery
remained silent; but as soon as the former rallied, they also recovered
confidence, and answered our salute with great rapidity and precision.
A heavy cannonade quickly commenced on both sides, and continued during
the whole of the day; till, towards evening, our ammunition began to
fail, and our fire in consequence to slacken. The fire of the
Americans, on the other hand, was redoubled: landing a number of guns
from the flotilla, they increased their artillery to a prodigious
amount; and directing at the same time the whole force of their cannon
on the opposite bank against the flank of our batteries, they soon
convinced us that all endeavours to surpass them in this mode of
fighting would be useless. Once more, therefore, were we obliged to
retire, leaving our heavy guns to their fate; but as no attempt was
made by the Americans to secure them, working parties were again sent
out after dark, and such as had not been destroyed were removed.

Of the fatigue undergone during these operations by the whole army,
from the General down to the meanest sentinel, it would be difficult to
form an adequate conception. For two whole nights and days not a man
had closed an eye, except such as were cool enough to sleep amidst
showers of cannon-ball; and during the day scarcely a moment had been
allowed in which we were able so much as to break our fast. We retired,
therefore, not only baffled and disappointed, but in some degree
disheartened and discontented. All our plans had as yet proved
abortive; even this, upon which so much reliance had been placed, was
found to be of no avail; and it must be confessed that something like
murmuring began to be heard through the camp. And, in truth, if ever an
army might be permitted to murmur, it was this. In landing they had
borne great hardships, not only without repining, but with
cheerfulness; their hopes had been excited by false reports, as to the
practicability of the attempt in which they were embarked; and now they
found themselves entangled amidst difficulties from which there
appeared to be no escape, except by victory. In their attempts upon the
enemy’s line, however, they had been twice foiled; in artillery they
perceived themselves to be so greatly overmatched, that their own could
hardly assist them; their provisions, being derived wholly from the
fleet, were both scanty and coarse; and their rest was continually
broken. For not only did the canon and mortars from the main of the
enemy’s position play unremittingly upon them both by day and night,
but they were likewise exposed to a deadly fire from the opposite bank
of the river, where no less than eighteen pieces of artillery were now
mounted, and swept the entire line of our encampment. Besides all this,
to undertake the duty of a piquet was as dangerous as to go into
action. Parties of American sharpshooters harassed and disturbed those
appointed to that service from the time they took possession of their
post till they were relieved; whilst to light fires at night was
impossible, because they served but as certain marks for the enemy’s
gunners. I repeat, therefore, that a little murmuring could not be
wondered at. Be it observed, however, that these were not the murmurs
of men anxious to escape from a disagreeable situation by any means. On
the contrary, they resembled rather the growling of a chained dog, when
he sees his adversary and cannot reach him; for in all their
complaints, no man ever hinted at a retreat, whilst all were eager to
bring matters to the issue of a battle, at any sacrifice of loves.

Nor was our gallant leader less anxious to fight than his followers. To
fight upon something like equal terms was, however, his wish; and for
this purpose a new scheme was invented, worthy, for its boldness, of
the school in which Sir Edward had studied his profession. It was
determined to divide the army, to send part across the river, who
should seize the enemy’s guns, and turn them on themselves; whilst the
remainder should at time make a general assault along the whole
entrenchment. But before this plan could be put into execution, it
would be necessary to cut a canal across the entire neck of land from
the Bayo de Catiline to the river, of sufficient width and depth to
admit of boats being brought up from the lake. Upon this arduous
undertaking were the troops immediately employed. Being divided into
four companies, they laboured by turns, day and night; one party
relieving another after a stated number of hours, in such order as that
the work should never be entirely deserted. The fatigue undergone
during the prosecution of this attempt no words can sufficiently
describe; yet it was pursued without repining, and at length, by
unremitting exertions, they succeeded in effecting their purpose by the
6th of January.

Whilst these things were going on, and men’s minds were anxiously
turned towards approaching events, fresh spirit was given to the army
by the unexpected arrival of Major-General Lambert, with the 7th and
43rd; two fine battalions, mustering each 800 effective men. By this
reinforcement, together with the addition of a body of sailors and
marines from the fleet, our numbers amounted now to little short of
6000 men; a force which, in almost any other quarter of America, would
have been irresistible. Of the numbers of the enemy, again, various
reports were in circulation; some stating them at 20,000, others at
30,000; but I believe that I come nearer the truth when I suppose their
whole force to have comprised 12,000 men of all arms. It is, at least,
certain that they exceeded us in numbers as much as they did in
resources; and that scarcely an hour passed which did not bring in new
levies to their camp.

The canal, as I have stated, being finished on the 6th, it was resolved
to lose no time in making use of it. Boats were accordingly ordered up
for the transportation of 1400 men; and Colonel Thornton, with the 85th
regiment, the marines, and a party of sailors, was appointed to cross
the river. But a number of untoward accidents occurred, to spoil a plan
of operations as accurately laid down as any in the course of the war.
The soil through which the canal was dug being soft, part of the bank
gave way, and, choking up the channel, prevented the heaviest of the
boats from getting forward. These again blocked up the passage, so that
none of those which were behind could proceed; and thus, instead of a
flotilla for the accommodation of 1400 men, only a number of boats
sufficient to contain 350 was enabled to reach their destination. Even
these did not arrive at the time appointed. According to the
preconcerted plan, Colonel Thornton’s detachment was to cross the river
immediately after dark. They were to push forward, so as to carry all
the batteries, and point the guns before daylight; when, on the
throwing up of a rocket, they were to commence firing upon the enemy’s
line, which at the same moment was to be attacked by the main off our
army.

In this manner was one part of the force to act, whilst the rest thus
appointed:—Dividing his troops into three columns, Sir Edward directed
that General Keane, at the head of the 95th, the light companies of the
21st, 4th, and 44th, together with the two black corps, should make a
demonstration, or sham attack, upon the right; that General Gibbs, with
the 4th, 21st, 44th, and 93rd, should force the enemy’s left, whilst
General Lambert, with the 7th and 43rd, remained in reserve, ready to
act as circumstances might require. But in storming an entrenched
position, something more than bare courage is required. Scaling ladders
and fascines had, therefore, been prepared, with which to fill up the
ditch and mount the wall; and since to carry these a service of danger,
requiring a corps well worthy of dependence, the 44th was for that
purpose selected, as a regiment of sufficient numerical strength, and
already accustomed to American warfare. Thus were all things arranged
on the night the 7th, for the 8th was fixed upon as the day decisive of
the fate of New Orleans.

ATTACK.

Whilst the rest of the army lay down to sleep till they should be
roused up to fight, Colonel Thornton, with the 85th, and a corps of
marines and seamen, amounting in all to 1400 men, moved down to the
brink of the river. As yet, however, no boats had arrived; hour after
hour elapsed before they came; and when they did come, the misfortunes
which I have stated above were discovered, for out of all that had been
ordered up, only a few made their appearance. Still it was absolutely
necessary that this part of the plan should be carried into execution.
Dismissing, therefore, the rest of his followers, the Colonel put
himself at the head of his own regiment, about fifty seamen, and as
many marines, and with this small force, consisting of no more than 340
men, pushed off. But, unfortunately, the loss of time nothing could
repair. Instead of reaching the opposite bank at latest by midnight,
dawn was beginning to appear before the boats quitted the canal. It was
in vain that they rowed on in perfect silence, and with oars muffled,
gaining the point of debarkation without being perceived. It was in
vain that they made good their landing and formed upon the beach,
without opposition or alarm; day had already broke, and the
signal-rocket was seen in the air, while they were yet four miles from
the batteries, which ought hours ago to have been taken.

In the mean time, the main body armed and moved forward some way in
front of the piquets. There they stood waiting for daylight, and
listening with the greatest anxiety for the firing which ought now to
be heard on the opposite bank. But their attention was exerted in vain,
and day dawned upon them long before they desired its appearance. Nor
was Sir Edward Pakenham disappointed in this part of his plan alone.
Instead of perceiving everything in readiness for the assault, he saw
his troops in battle array, but not a ladder or fascine upon the field.
The 44th, which was appointed to carry them, had either misunderstood
or neglected their orders; and now headed the column of attack, without
any means being provided for crossing the enemy’s ditch or scaling his
rampart.

The indignation of our brave leader on this occasion may be imagined,
but cannot be described. Galloping towards Colonel Mullens, who led the
44th, he commanded him instantly to return with his regiment for the
ladders, but the opportunity of planting them was lost, and though they
were brought up, it was only to be scattered over the field by the
frightened bearers. For our troops were by this time visible to the
enemy. A dreadful fire was accordingly opened upon them, and they were
mowed down by hundreds, while they stood waiting for orders.

Seeing that all his well-laid plans were frustrated, Pakenham gave the
word to advance, and the other regiments, leaving the 44th with the
ladders and fascines behind them, rushed on to the assault. On the
left, a detachment under Colonel Rennie, of the 21st regiment, stormed
a three-gun battery, and took it. Here they remained for some time in
expectation of support; but none arriving, and a strong column of the
enemy forming for its recovery, they determined to anticipate the
attack, and pushed on. The battery which they had taken was in advance
of the body of the works, being cut off from it by a ditch, across
which only a single plank was thrown. Along this plank did these brave
men attempt to pass; but being opposed by overpowering numbers, they
were repulsed; and the Americans, in turn, forcing their way into the
battery, at length succeeded in recapturing it with immense slaughter.
On the right, again, the 21st and 4th, supported by the 93rd, though
thrown into some confusion by the enemy’s fire, pushed on with
desperate gallantry to the ditch; but to scale the parapet without
ladders was a work of no slight difficulty. Some few, indeed, by
mounting one upon another’s shoulders, succeeded in entering the works,
but these were speedily overpowered, most of them killed, and the rest
taken; whilst as many as stood without were exposed to a sweeping fire,
which cut them down by whole companies. It was in vain that the most
obstinate courage was displayed. They fell by the hands of men whom
they absolutely did not see; for the Americans, without so much as
lifting their faces above the rampart, swung their firelocks by one arm
over the wall, and discharged them directly upon their heads. The whole
of the guns likewise, from the opposite bank, kept up a well-directed
and deadly cannonade upon their flank; and thus were they destroyed
without an opportunity being given of displaying their valour, or
obtaining so much as revenge.

Sir Edward saw how things were going, and did all that a general could
do to rally his broken troops. Riding towards the 44th, which had
returned to the ground, but in great disorder, he called out for
Colonel Mullens to advance; but that officer disappeared, and was not
to be found. He therefore prepared to lead them on himself, and had put
himself at their head for that purpose, when he received a slight wound
in the knee from a musket-ball, which killed his horse. Mounting
another, he again headed the 44th, when a second ball took effect more
fatally, and he dropped lifeless into the arms of his aide-de-camp.

Nor were Generals Gibbs and Keane inactive. Riding through the ranks,
they strove by all means to encourage the assailants and recall the
fugitives; till at length both were wounded, and borne off the field.
All was now confusion and dismay. Without leaders, ignorant of what was
to be 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. Making a forward motion, the 7th and 43rd
presented the appearance of a renewed attack; by which the enemy were
so much awed, that they did not venture beyond their lines in pursuit
of the fugitives.

Whilst affairs were thus disastrously conducted in this quarter, the
party under Colonel Thornton had gained the landing-place. On stepping
ashore, the first thing they beheld was a rocket thrown up as a signal
that the battle was begun. This unwelcome sight added wings to their
speed. Forming in one little column, and pushing forward a single
company as an advanced guard, they hastened on, and in half an hour
reached a canal, along the opposite bank of which a detachment of
Americans was drawn up. To dislodge them was the work of a moment a
boat, with a carronade in her bow, got upon their flank, gave them a
single discharge of grape, whilst the advanced guard extended its
ranks, and approached at double-quick time. But they scarcely waited
till the latter were within range, when, firing a volley, they fled in
confusion. This, however, was only an outpost: the main body was some
way in rear, and amounted to no fewer than 1500 men.

It was not long, however, before they likewise presented themselves.
Like their countrymen on the other side, they were strongly entrenched,
a thick parapet with a ditch covering their front; whilst a battery
upon their left swept the whole position, and two field-pieces
commanded the road. Of artillery the assailants possessed not a single
piece, nor any means beyond what nature supplied of scaling the
rampart. Yet nothing daunted by the obstacles before them, or by the
immense odds to which they were opposed, dispositions for an immediate
attack were made. The 85th, extending its files, stretched across the
entire line of the enemy; the sailors in column prepared to storm the
battery, whilst the marines remained some little way in rear of the
centre as a reserve.

These arrangements being completed, the bugle sounded, and our troops
advanced. The sailors raising a shout, rushed forward, but were met by
so heavy a discharge of grape and canister that for an instant they
paused. Recovering themselves, however, they again pushed on; and the
85th dashing forward to their aid, they received a heavy fire of
musketry, and endeavoured to charge. A smart firing was now for a few
minutes kept up on both sides, but our people had no time to waste in
distant fighting, and accordingly hurried on to storm the works, upon
which a panic seized the Americans, they lost their order, and fled,
leaving us in possession of their tents and of eighteen pieces of
cannon.

In this affair our loss amounted to only three men killed and about
forty wounded, among the latter of whom was Colonel Thornton. Nor could
the loss on the part of the enemy greatly exceed our own. Had they
stood firm, indeed, it is hardly conceivable that so small a force
could have wrested an entrenched position from numbers so superior; at
least it could not have been done without much bloodshed. But they were
completely surprised. An attack on this side was a circumstance of
which they had not dreamed; and when men are assaulted in a point which
they deem beyond the reach of danger, it is well known that they defend
themselves with less vigour than where such an event was anticipated.

When in the act of storming these lines the word was passed through our
ranks that all had gone well on the opposite bank. This naturally added
to the vigour of the assault; but we had not followed our flying enemy
above two miles when we were commanded to halt. The real state of the
case had now reached us, and the same messenger who brought the
melancholy news brought likewise an order to return.

The place where we halted was in rear of a canal, across which was
thrown a wooden bridge, furnishing apparently the only means of
passing. At the opposite end of this bridge stood a collection of
wooden cottages and one chateau of some size. Here a company was
stationed to serve the double purpose of a piquet and a rear-guard;
whilst the main body, having rested for half an hour, began their march
towards the point where they had landed.

RE-EMBARKATION—THE CAMP.

As soon as the column had got sufficiently on their way the piquet
likewise prepared to follow. But in doing so it was evident that some
risk must be run. The enemy having rallied, began again to show a
front; that is to say, parties of sixty or a hundred men approached to
reconnoitre. These, however, must be deceived, otherwise a pursuit
might be commenced, and the re-embarkation of the whole corps hindered
or prevented. It so happened that the piquet in question was this day
under my command; as soon, therefore, as I received information that
the main body had commenced its retreat, I formed my men, and made a
show of advancing. The Americans perceiving this, fled; when, wheeling
about, we set fire to the chateau, and under cover of the smoke
destroyed the bridge and retreated. Making all haste towards the rear,
we overtook our comrades just as they had begun to embark; when the
little corps being once more united, entered their boats, and reached
the opposite bank without molestation.




CHAPTER XXIII.

THE CAMP.


As soon as the whole army was re-united, and the broken regiments had
recovered their order, a flag of truce was dispatched with proposals
for the burial of the dead. To accomplish this end a truce of two days
was agreed upon, and parties were immediately sent out to collect and
bury their fallen comrades. Prompted by curiosity, I mounted my horse
and rode to the front; but of all the sights I ever witnessed, that
which met me there was beyond comparison the most shocking and the most
humiliating. Within the narrow 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 furnish them with a slight covering of earth. Nor was
this all. An American officer stood by smoking a cigar, and apparently
counting the slain with a look of savage exultation, and repeating over
and over to each individual that approached him, that their loss
amounted only, to eight men 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 the measure. I could not, however, stand
by and repress my choler, and since to give it vent would have
subjected me to more serious inconvenience than a mere duel, I turned
my horse’s head and galloped back to the camp.

But the change of expression visible there in every countenance no
language can portray. Only twenty hours ago, and all was life and
animation; wherever you went you were enlivened by the sound of
merriment and raillery; whilst the expected attack was mentioned in
terms indicative not only of sanguine hope, but, of the most perfect
confidence as to its result. Now gloom and discontent everywhere
prevailed. Disappointment, grief, indignation, and rage, succeeded each
other in all bosoms; nay, so completely were the troops overwhelmed by
a sense of disgrace, that for awhile they retained their sorrow without
so much as hinting at its cause. Nor was this dejection occasioned
wholly by the consciousness of laurels tarnished. The loss of comrades
was to the full as afflicting as the loss of honour; for out of more
than 5000 men brought on this side into the field, no fewer than 1500
had fallen. Among these were two generals (for Gibbs survived his wound
but a few hours), and many officers of courage and ability; besides
which, hardly an individual survived who had not to mourn the loss of
some particular and well-known companion.

Yet it is most certain that amidst all this variety of conflicting
passions no feeling bordering upon despair or even terror found room.
Even among the private soldiers no fear was experienced; for if you
attempted to converse with them on the subject of the late defeat, they
would end with a bitter curse upon those to whose misconduct they
attributed their losses, and refer you to the future, when they hoped
for an opportunity of revenge. To the Americans they would allow no
credit, laying the entire blame of the failure upon certain individuals
among themselves; and so great was the indignation expressed against
one corps, that the soldiers of other regiments would hardly exchange
words with those who chanced to wear that uniform. Though deeply
afflicted, therefore, we were by no means disheartened, and even, yet
anticipated, with an eagerness far exceeding what was felt before, a
renewal of the combat.

PREPARATIONS FOR RETREAT.

But General Lambert, on whom the chief command had devolved, very
prudently determined not to risk the safety of his army by another
attempt upon works evidently so much beyond their strength. He
considered, and considered justly, that his chances of success were in
every respect lessened by the late repulse. In the first place, an
extraordinary degree of confidence was given to the enemy; in the next
place, the only feasible plan of attack having been already tried, they
would be more on their guard to prevent its being again put in
execution; and lastly, his own force was greatly diminished in numbers,
whilst theirs continued every day to increase. Besides, it would be
casting all upon the hazard of a die. If again defeated, nothing could
save our army from destruction, because unless it retreated in force no
retreat could be effected. A retreat, therefore, whilst yet the measure
appeared practicable, was resolved upon, and towards that end were all
our future operations directed.

To the accomplishment of this desirable object, however, one great
obstacle existed: by what road were the troops to travel, and in what
order were they to regain the fleet? On landing we had taken advantage
of the creek or bayo, and thus come up by water within two miles of the
cultivated country. But to adopt a similar course in returning was
impossible. In spite of our losses there were not throughout the
armament a sufficient number of boats to transport above one-half of
the army at a time. If, however, we should separate, the chances were
that both parties would be destroyed; for those embarked might be
intercepted, and those left behind would be obliged to cope with the
entire American force. Besides, even granting that the Americans might
be repulsed, it would be impossible to take to our boats in their
presence, and thus at least one division, if not both, must be
sacrificed.

To obviate this difficulty prudence required that the road which we had
formed on landing should be continued to the very margin of the lake;
whilst appearances seemed to indicate the total impracticability of the
scheme. From firm ground to the water’s edge was here a distance of
many miles, through the very centre of a morass where human foot had
never before trodden. Yet it was desirable at least to make the
attempt; for if it failed we should only be reduced to our former
alternative of gaining a battle or surrendering at discretion.

Having determined to adopt this course, General Lambert immediately
dispatched strong working parties, under the guidance of engineer
officers, to lengthen the road, keeping as near as possible to the
margin of the creek. But the task assigned to them was burthened with
innumerable difficulties. For the extent of several leagues no firm
footing could be discovered on which to rest the foundation of a path;
nor any trees to assist in forming hurdles. All that could be done,
therefore, was to bind together large quantities of reeds, and lay them
across the quagmire; by which means at least the semblance of a road
was produced, however wanting in firmness and solidity. But where broad
ditches came in the way, many of which intersected the morass, the
workmen were necessarily obliged to apply more durable materials. For
these, bridges composed in part of large branches brought with immense
labour from the woods, were constructed; but they were, on the whole,
little superior in point of strength to the rest of the path, for
though the edges were supported by timber, the middle was filled up
only with reeds.

To complete this road, bad as it was, occupied the space of nine days,
during which time our army remained in position without making any
attempt to molest the enemy. The Americans, however, were not so
inactive. In the course of two days six guns were again mounted upon
the bank of the river, from which a continual fire was kept up upon our
camp. The same mode of proceeding was adopted in front, and thus, night
and day, were we harassed by danger against which there was no
fortifying ourselves. Of the extreme unpleasantness of our situation it
is hardly possible to convey any adequate conception. We never closed
our eyes in peace, for we were sure to be awakened before many minutes
elapsed, by the splash of a round shot or shell in the mud beside us.
Tents we had none, but lay, some in the open air, and some in huts made
of boards, or any materials that could be procured. From the first
moment of our landing not a man had undressed excepting to bathe; and
many had worn the same shirt for weeks together, Besides all this,
heavy rains now set in, accompanied with violent storms of thunder and
lightning, which lasting during the entire day, usually ceased towards
dark, and gave place to keen frosts. Thus were we alternately wet and
frozen: wet all day, and frozen all night. With the outposts again
there was constant skirmishing. With what view the Americans wished to
drive them in I cannot tell; but every day were they attacked, and
compelled to maintain their ground by dint of hard fighting. In one
word, none but those who happened to belong to this army can form a
notion of the hardships which it endured and the fatigue which it
underwent.

Nor were these the only evils which tended to lessen our numbers. To
our soldiers every inducement was held out by the enemy to desert.
Printed papers, offering lands and money as the price of desertion,
were thrown into the piquets, whilst individuals made a practice of
approaching our posts, and endeavouring to persuade the very sentinels
to quit their stations. Nor could it be expected that bribes so
tempting would always be refused. Many desertions began daily to take
place, and became before long so frequent, that the evil rose to be of
a serious nature.

There occurred, however, one instance of magnanimous fidelity on the
part of a British soldier, which I cannot resist the inclination of
repeating. A private of the 95th, whose name I should have joyfully
mentioned had I not forgotten it, chanced one day to stand sentinel,
when he was addressed by an American officer. The American offered him
a hundred dollars and a quantity of land if he would come over;
representing, at the same time, the superiority of a democratical
government, and railing, as these persons generally do, against the
title of king. Though the Englishman heard what was said distinctly
enough, he nevertheless pretended to be deaf, and begged his tempter to
come a little nearer, that, in his own words, “he might tell him all
about it.” Jonathan, exulting at the prospect of drawing this fine
fellow from his duty, approached within twenty paces of where he stood,
when just as he had opened his mouth to renew his offer, the sentinel
levelled his piece and shot him through the arm. Nor was he contented
with inflicting this punishment. Walking forward, he seized his wounded
enemy, and reproaching him with dishonourable dealings, brought him in
a prisoner to the camp. But, unhappily, conduct such as this was rare;
in the course of a week many men quitted their colours, and fled to the
enemy.

RETREAT.

In the mean time the whole of the wounded, except such as were too
severely hurt to be removed, were embarked upon the canal, and sent off
to the fleet. Next followed the baggage and stores, with the civil
officers, commissaries, purveyors, &c.; and last of all, such of the
light artillery as could be withdrawn with out trouble or the risk of
discovery. But of the heavy artillery, of which about ten pieces were
mounted in front of the bivouac, and upon the bank of the river, no
account was taken. They were ship’s guns, of little value, and
extremely cumbersome; consequently their removal, had it been
practicable, would scarcely have rewarded the trouble. It was therefore
determined to leave them behind; and they were accordingly permitted to
retain their stations to the last.

These preparations being continued for some days, on the 17th no part
of our force remained in camp except the infantry. Having therefore
delayed only till the abandoned guns were rendered unserviceable, on
the evening of the 18th it also began its retreat. Trimming the fires,
and arranging all things in the same order as if no change were to take
place, regiment after regiment stole away, as soon as darkness
concealed their motions; leaving the piquets to follow as a rear-guard,
but with strict injunctions not to retire till daylight began to
appear. As may be supposed, the most profound silence was maintained;
not a man opening his mouth, except to issue necessary orders, and even
then speaking in a whisper. Not a cough or any other noise was to be
heard from the head to the rear of the column; and even the steps of
the soldiers were planted with care, to prevent the slightest stamping
or echo. Nor was this extreme caution in any respect unnecessary. In
spite of every endeavour to the contrary, a rumour of our intended
movement had reached the Americans for we found them of late watchful
and prying, whereas they had been formerly content to look only to
themselves.

For some time, that is to say, while our route lay along the high road
and beside the brink of the river, the march was agreeable enough; but
as soon as we began to enter upon the path through the marsh all
comfort was at an end. Being constructed of materials so slight, and
resting upon a foundation so infirm, the treading of the first corps
unavoidably beat it to pieces; those which followed were therefore
compelled to flounder on in the best way they could; and by the time
the rear of the column gained the morass all trace of a way had
entirely disappeared. But not only were the reeds torn asunder and sunk
by the pressure of those who had gone before, but the bog itself, which
at first might have furnished a few spots of firm footing, was trodden
into the consistency of mud. The consequence was, that every step sank
us to the knees, and frequently higher. Near the ditches, indeed, many
spots occurred which we had the utmost difficulty in crossing at all;
and as the night was dark, there being no moon, nor any light except
what the stars supplied, it was difficult to select our steps, or even
to follow those who called to us that they were safe on the opposite
side. At one of these places I myself beheld an unfortunate wretch
gradually sink till he totally disappeared. I saw him flounder in,
heard his cry for help, and ran forward with the intention of saving
him; but before I had taken a second step, I myself sank at once as
high as the breast. How I contrived to keep myself from smothering is
more than I can tell, for I felt no solid bottom under me, and
continued slowly to go deeper and deeper till the mud reached my arms.
Instead of endeavouring to help the poor soldier, of whom nothing could
now be seen except the head and hands, I was forced to beg assistance
for myself: when a leathern canteen strap being thrown to me, I laid
hold of it, and was dragged out just as my fellow-sufferer became
invisible.

Over roads such as these did we continue our journey during the whole
of the night: and in the morning reached a place called Fisherman’s
huts, upon the margin of the lake. The name is derived from a clump of
mud-built cottages, situated in as complete a desert as the eye of man
was ever pained by beholding. They stand close to the water, upon a
part of the morass rather more firm than the rest. Not a tree or bush
of any description grows near them. As far as the eye could reach a
perfect ocean of reeds everywhere presented itself, except on that side
where a view of the lake changed without fertilizing the prospect. Were
any set of human beings condemned to spend their lives here, I should
consider their fate as little superior to that of the solitary captive:
but during many months of the year these huts are wholly unoccupied,
being erected, as their name denotes, merely to shelter a few fishermen
while the fishing season lasts.

Here at length we were ordered to halt; and perhaps I never rejoiced
more sincerely at any order than at this. Wearied with my exertions,
and oppressed with want of sleep, I threw myself on the ground without
so much as pulling off my muddy garments, and in an instant all my
cares and troubles were forgotten. Nor did I wake from that deep
slumber for many hours, when I rose cold and stiff, and creeping beside
a miserable fire of reeds, addressed myself to the last morsel of salt
pork which my wallet contained.

HALT.

The whole army had now come up, the piquets having escaped without
notice, or at least without annoyance. Forming along the brink of the
lake, a line of outposts was planted, and the soldiers were commanded
to make themselves as comfortable as they could. But, in truth, the
word comfort is one which cannot in any sense be applied to people in
such a situation. Without tents or huts of any description (for the few
from which the place is named were occupied by the General and other
heads of departments), our bed was the morass, and our sole covering
the clothes which had not quitted our backs for upwards of a month. Our
fires, upon the size and goodness of which much of a soldier’s
happiness depends, were composed solely of reeds; a species of fuel
which, like straw, soon blazes up, and soon expires again, almost
without communicating any degree of warmth. But, above all, our
provisions were expended, and from what quarter to obtain an immediate
supply it defied the most inventive genius to discover. Our sole
dependence was upon the boats. Of these a flotilla lay ready to receive
us, in which were embarked the black corps, with the 44th; but they had
brought with them only food for their own use. It was therefore
necessary that they should reach the fleet and return again before they
could furnish us with what we so much wanted. But the distance to the
nearest of the shipping could not be less than eighty miles; and if the
weather should become boisterous or the winds obstinately adverse we
might starve before any supply could arrive.

These numerous grievances were, however, without remedy, and we bore
them with patience; though for two whole days the only provisions
issued to the troops were some crumbs of biscuit and a small allowance
of rum. For my own part I did not fare so badly as many others. Having
been always fond of shooting, I took a firelock and went in pursuit of
wild ducks, which abounded throughout the bog. Wandering along in this
quest I reached a lake, by the margin of which I concealed myself and
waited for my prey; nor was it long before I had an opportunity of
firing. Several large flocks flew over me, and I was fortunate enough
to kill three birds. But, alas, those birds, upon which I had already
feasted in imagination, dropped into the water: my dog, more tired than
her master, would not fetch them out, and they lay about twenty yards
off, tantalizing me with the sight of a treasure which I could not
reach. Moving off to another point, I again took my station where I
hoped for better fortune; but the same evil chance once more occurred,
and the ducks fell into the lake. This was too much for a hungry man to
endure; the day was piercingly cold, and the edge of the pool was
covered with ice; but my appetite was urgent, and I resolved at all
hazards to indulge it. Pulling off my clothes, therefore, I broke the
ice and plunged in; and though shivering like an aspen-leaf, I returned
safely to the camp with a couple of birds. Next day I adopted a similar
course with like success, but at the expense of what was to me a
serious misery. My stockings of warm wool were the only part of my
dress which I did not strip off, and to-day it unfortunately happened
that one was lost. Having secured my ducks, I attempted to land where
the bottom was muddy; but my leg stuck fast, and in pulling it out off
came the stocking; to recover it was beyond my power, for the mud
closed over it directly, and the consequence was that till I regained
the transport only one of my feet could be warm at a time. To those who
can boast of many pairs of fine cotton and woollen hose, this
misfortune of mine may appear light, but to me, who had only two
stockings on shore, the loss of one was very grievous; and I therefore
request that I may not be sneered at when I record it as one of the
disastrous consequences of this ill-fated expedition.




CHAPTER XXIV.

THE LAKE.


As soon as the boats returned, regiment after regiment embarked and set
sail for the fleet; but the distance being considerable and the wind
foul, many days elapsed before the whole could be got off. Excepting in
one trifling instance, however, no accident occurred, and by the end of
the month we were all once more on board our former ships. But our
return was far from triumphant. We, who only seven weeks ago had set
out in the surest confidence of glory, and I may add of emolument, were
brought back dispirited and dejected. Our ranks were wofully thinned,
our chiefs slain, our clothing tattered and filthy, and even our
discipline in some degree injured. A gloomy silence reigned throughout
the armament, except when it was broken by the voice of lamentation
over fallen friends; and the interior of each ship presented a scene
well calculated to prove the short-sightedness of human hope and human
prudence.

The accident to which I allude was the capture of a single boat by the
enemy. About thirty men of the 14th dragoons having crowded into an
unarmed barge, were proceeding slowly down the lake, when a boat
mounting a carronade in its bow suddenly darted from a creek and made
towards them. To escape was impossible, for their barge was too heavily
laden to move at a rate of even moderate rapidity; and to fight was
equally out of the question, because of the superiority which their
cannon gave to the Americans. The whole party was accordingly compelled
to surrender to six men and an officer; and having thrown their arms
into the lake, their boat was taken in tow and they were carried away
prisoners.

This, however, was the only misfortune which occurred. Warned by the
fate of their comrades, the rest kept together in little squadrons,
each attended by one or more armed launches; and thus rowing steadily
on, they gained the shipping without so much as another attempt at
surprisal being made.

On reaching the fleet, we found that a considerable reinforcement of
troops had arrived from England. It consisted of the 40th foot, a fine
regiment, containing nearly a thousand men, which, ignorant of the
fatal issue of our attack, had crossed the lakes only to be sent back
to the ships without so much as stepping on shore. The circumstance,
however, produced little satisfaction. We felt that the coming of
thrice the number could not recover what was lost or recall past
events; and therefore no rejoicing was heard, nor the slightest regard
paid to the occurrence. Nay, so great was the despondency which had
taken possession of men’s minds, that not even a rumour respecting the
next point of attack obtained circulation; whilst a sullen
carelessness, a sort of indifference as to what might happen, seemed to
have succeeded all our wonted curiosity and confidence of success in
every undertaking.

THE LAKE—MOBILE.

In this state we remained wind-bound till the 4th of February, when, at
length getting under weigh, the fleet ran down as far as Cat Island.
This is a spot of sandy soil at the mouth of the lake, remarkable for
nothing except a solitary Spanish family which possesses it. Completely
cut off from the rest of the world, an old man, his wife, two
daughters, and a son, dwell here in apparent happiness and contentment.
Being at least one hundred and twenty miles from the main, it is seldom
that their little kingdom is visited by strangers; and I believe that
till our arrival the daughters, though grown up to womanhood, had seen
few faces besides those of their parents and brother. Their cottage,
composed simply of a few boughs, thatched and in-woven with straw, is
beautifully situated within a short distance of the water. Two cows and
a few sheep grazed beside it; whilst a small tract of ground covered
with stubble, and a little garden well stocked with fruit-trees and
vegetables, at once gave proof of their industry, and showed the source
from whence they supplied themselves with bread.

Having remained here till the 7th, we again took advantage of a fair
wind and stood to sea. As soon as we had cleared the lake, we directed
our course towards the east, steering, as it was rumoured, upon Mobile;
nor was it long before we came in sight of the bay which bears that
name. It is formed by a projecting headland called Point Bayo, and a
large island called Isle Dauphin. Upon the first is erected a small
fort, possessing the same title with the promontory which commands the
entrance; for though the island is, at least five miles from the main,
there is no water for floating a ship of any burthen except within a
few hundred yards of the latter. The island is, like Cat Island,
uninhabited, except by one family, and unprovided with any works of
defence.

SIEGE.

As the attack of Mobile was professedly our object, it was clear that
nothing could be done previous to the reduction of the fort. The ships
accordingly dropped anchor at the mouth of the bay, and immediate
preparations were made for the siege. But the fort was too
inconsiderable in point of size to require the employment of all our
forces in its investment. Whilst one brigade, therefore, was allotted
to this service, the rest proceeded to establish themselves on the
island, where, carrying tents and other conveniences on shore, the
first regular encampment which we had seen since our arrival in this
hemisphere was formed.

The spot of ground, of which we had now taken possession, extended
twelve miles in length, and from one to three in width. Its soil is in
general dry and sandy, well covered with grass, and ornamented by
continued groves of pine, cedar, oak, and laurel. On one side only is
there a swamp, but not of sufficient size to contaminate the atmosphere
of the whole, which is considered so peculiarly healthy, that the place
is generally used as a depot for the sick in the American army. At
present, as I have said, it was tenanted by no more than a single
family, the master of which was a midshipman in the American navy, and
banished hither for some misdemeanor; but what was to us of much
greater importance, it was likewise stocked with cattle resembling in
appearance the black cattle of the Highlands of Scotland, and not
behind them in point of wildness.

Whilst the remainder of the army spent their time here, the 4th, 21st,
and 44th, being landed above the fort, were busied in the siege. This
small work stands, as I have stated, at the extremity of a promontory.
Towards the sea its fortifications are respectable enough, but on the
land side it is little better than a blockhouse. The ramparts being
composed of sand, not more than three feet in thickness, are faced with
plank barely cannon-proof; whilst a sand-hill rising within pistol-shot
of the ditch, completely commands them. Within, again, the fort is as
much wanting in accommodation as it is in strength. There are no
bomb-proof barracks, nor any hole or arch under which men might find
protection from shells; indeed, so deficient is it in common
lodging-rooms, that a great part of the garrison slept in tents. To
reduce this place, therefore, occupied but a short time. The troops
having assembled on the 8th, drove the enemy within their lines on the
9th, and broke ground the same evening. On the 10th, four
eighteen-pounders with two howitzers were placed in battery upon the
top of the sand-hill; on the 11th, the fort surrendered; and on the
12th, the garrison, consisting of four hundred men of the second
American regiment, marched out with all the honours of war, and laid
down their arms upon the glacis.

PEACE.

With the reduction of this trifling work ended all hostilities in this
quarter of America, for the army had scarcely re-assembled when
intelligence arrived from England of peace. The news reached us on the
14th, and I shall not deny that it was received with general
satisfaction. Though war is the soldier’s harvest, yet it must be
confessed, that when carried on as it had of late been conducted, it is
a harvest of which men in time become weary; and many of us having been
absent for several years from our native shores, experienced absolute
delight at the prospect of returning once more to the bosom of our
families. The communication was therefore welcomed with unfeigned joy,
nor could any other topic of conversation gain attention throughout the
camp, except the anticipated re-embarkation. .

But as the preliminaries only had been signed, and as Mr. Maddison’s
approval was required before we should be at liberty to depart, our
army still continued stationary upon the island. Of the President’s
conduct, however, no doubts were entertained; all thoughts of future
military operations were in consequence laid aside; and the sole aim of
every individual thenceforth was to make himself as comfortable as
circumstances would permit. To effect this end various expedients were
adopted. Among others a theatre was erected, in which such officers as
chose to exhibit performed for their own amusement and the amusement of
their friends. In shooting and fishing, likewise, much of our time was
spent; and thus, by adopting the usual expedients of idle men, we
contrived to pass some days in a state of tolerable comfort.

Occupations such as these, however, soon grew insipid, and it was with
sincere rejoicing that on the 5th of March we were made acquainted with
Mr. Maddison’s agreement to the terms proposed. All was now hope and
exultation, an immediate departure was anticipated, and those were
pitied as unfortunate whose lot it was supposed, might detain them even
a day behind their fellows. But as yet no movement took place; our
provisions were not sufficient to authorize the undertaking so long a
voyage as we must undertake, did we attempt to run for the nearest
British settlement; we were therefore compelled to remain where we
were, till a frigate should return, which had been sent forward to
solicit supplies from the Governor of Cuba.

During this interval, the same occupations were resorted to; and others
of a less agreeable nature undertaken. As summer came on, the island
sent forth multitudes of snakes from their lurking- places, which
infested the camp, making their way in some instances into our very
beds. This was bad enough, but it was not the only nuisance to which we
were subject. The alligators, which during the winter months lie in a
dormant state, now began to awaken, and prowling about the margin of
the pool, created no little alarm and agitation. Apparently confounded
at our invasion of their territories, these monsters at first confined
themselves to the marshy part of the island, but becoming by degrees
more familiar, they soon ventured to approach the very precincts of the
camp. One of them at length entered a tent; in which only a woman and
child chanced to be, and having stared round as if in amazement, walked
out again without offering to commit any violence. But the visit was of
too serious a nature to be overlooked. Parties were accordingly formed
for their destruction, and it was usual on the return of each from an
excursion, instead of asking how many birds, to demand how many snakes
and alligators they had shot. Of the former, indeed, great numbers were
killed,`and of the latter not a few, the largest of which measured
about nine feet from the snout to the tail.

Another employment, also, deserves to be noted, because it is truly
characteristic of the boyish jollity of young soldiers. Wearied with a
state of idleness, the officers of the 7th, 43rd, and 14th dragoons
made an attack with fir-apples upon those of the 85th, 93rd, and 95th.
For the space of some days they pelted each other from morning till
night, laying ambuscades and exhibiting, on a small scale, all the
stratagems of war; whilst the whole army, not even excepting the
Generals themselves, stood by and spurred them on.

But to continue a detail of such proceedings would only swell my
narrative, without amusing my reader; I shall therefore content myself
with observing, that things remained in this state till the 14th of
March, when the long-looked for frigate at length arrived, and on the
15th, the first division of the army embarking, set sail for England.
The wind, however, was foul, nor did the ships make any way till the
17th, when a fresh breeze springing up, we stood our course, and by ten
o’clock on the 21st could distinguish the high land of Cuba. But the
violence of the gale having driven us considerably to leeward, we were
forced to bear up, and beat along the coast, on which account it was
not till the 23rd that we came opposite to the port of Havannah.

HAVANNAH.

Than the approach to this city, and its first appearance from the
water, it is impossible to conceive anything more grand and imposing. A
little bay, extremely narrow at the entrance, forms the harbour. On
each side of it stand forts of prodigious strength, particularly those
on the left, where the ground is considerably elevated, whilst the city
itself, with its ramparts and towers, its numerous steeples, spires,
and public buildings, gives an assurance of wealth and magnificence
peculiarly striking. When we entered, every tower was surmounted by a
national banner half-mast high, a circumstance which did not at least
diminish the effect of a first view; and the guns from the forts
answering our salute, showed us how desperate must be the condition of
an enemy that should venture within their range. Why the flags should
thus indicate a general mourning, we were at a loss to guess, till the
pilot informed us that this was Holy week. Then, indeed, we remembered
that we had returned to a Roman Catholic country, and rejoiced at the
lucky accident which had brought us thither at such a season.

As it was late before we anchored, I was prevented from landing that
night, but on the morrow I went on shore at an early hour, with the
intention of seeing as much as my time would allow. But in my proposed
visits to the different points worthy of attention I was interrupted.
It was Good-Friday, consequently all public places were shut, and
neither guides nor carriages could be procured. But if I was
disappointed in this, my disappointment was amply compensated by a view
of the religious ceremonies peculiar to that day.

Walking into the largest church in the city, I beheld beside the altar
a figure of our Saviour as large as life nailed to a cross. Beside this
figure stood a number of monks, one of whom presented a rod with a
sponge affixed to its mouth, while a second thrust a spear into its
side, from which came out a liquor having the colour of blood and
water. This being carefully caught in a golden dish, the figure was
taken down from the cross, wrapped round with white linen clothes, and
laid upon a bier, when an imposing procession began in the following
order: First marched a military band playing slow and solemn music;
next came a guard of soldiers with heads bent down and arms reversed;
then followed about two hundred monks belonging to different orders,
arrayed in their dark robes, with hands and feet bare, and crucifixes
suspended from their necks. A short interval now succeeded, and another
party of monks dressed in white appeared, singing hymns in honour of
the Virgin. Next came a splendid couch surmounted by a canopy covered
with white silk and sparkling with gold and jewels, upon which sat a
waxen image of the Mother of God, clothed in gorgeous apparel.
Following this was another party of white-robed monks, chanting a
requiem for a departed soul, and then a second interval. At the
distance of perhaps twenty yards from these came two monks bearing two
large silver nails, then two others bearing a spear and a rod, and then
the body of our Saviour stretched at full length upon the bier. After
the bier came two monks bearing two other nails, and then another two
bearing a small cross and a ladder. Here, again, there was another
interval, which was succeeded by a third white-robed party likewise
chanting a requiem. Next to these came about twenty canons arrayed in
scarlet; then another couch covered with crimson velvet, which
supported a figure of Mary Magdalen, likewise in a sitting posture;
then a second body of canons, succeeded by about two hundred monks in
black; after these another guard of soldiers, and last of all a second
military band.

In spite of prejudice I could not avoid being deeply struck by this
solemn procession. The airs performed by the bands were slow and
mournful, the voices of the singers were deep and musical, the dresses
were rich to a degree of splendour, and the whole was gone through with
much apparent devotion. No doubt, when regarded with the eye of
reflection, the whole may seem something worse than ludicrous, but it
is impossible to witness the scene and to reason on its propriety at
the same time. As long as the pageant is before your eyes you cannot
avoid being powerfully impressed by it; nor is it till after it has
disappeared that you are inclined to ask yourself why you gave way to
feelings of that nature. Yet among the natives I thought I could
observe a considerable degree of levity. It is true that as many as
were in the streets or at the windows dropped upon their knees while
the procession passed, but their careless looks and suppressed smiles
sufficiently proved that they knelt only because they were obliged to
kneel.

Commencing at the door of the church where the representation of the
crucifixion had been exhibited, the funeral party (for it was neither
more nor less) proceeded through the principal streets in the town with
a slow and measured pace. As all except the soldiers walked two and
two, it covered, I should conceive, little less than a mile in extent,
and after winding from lane to lane and from square to square, directed
its steps towards a particular convent, where the waxen image was
solemnly deposited in a vault. It is said, but with what truth I cannot
pretend to determine, that a different image is made use of every year,
and that the vault is now so full of waxen corpses, that it will be
necessary before long to have some of them destroyed.

Having now got rid of the most sacred part of their burthen, the monks,
bearing only the two couches, returned in procession by the same route
and in the same order as they had proceeded, only the bands struck up
lively airs and the singers chanted hymns of rejoicing and hallelujahs.
Instead of walking at a slow pace likewise, they stepped out almost in
a sort of dance, and reaching the door of the great church they there
separated, each party hastening to its own house to celebrate mass.

Into one or two of the convent chapels I likewise entered, and was
present during the performance of their very striking service. I found
them ornamented in the most magnificent manner, the rafters of many
being gilded over and all the windows crowded with stained glass. Of
pictures, and what struck me as something better than mere daubs, there
were also great numbers. In a word, it seemed as if I had reached the
heart and capital of Roman Catholic splendour. Nothing that I had
beheld in the mother-country could at all compare with what was now
before me, and I returned in the evening to my ship, not indeed a
convert to the principles of that religion, but decidedly astonished
and confounded at the solemn magnificence of its ceremonies.




CHAPTER XXV.


At an early hour next morning I returned to the city, and found that
the face of affairs had undergone a complete revolution. No more
melancholy countenances, no closed shops and vacant streets were now to
be seen; all was bustle and rejoicing, bells ringing, carriages
rattling along, flags flying, and guns firing. The solemnity of
Good-Friday ends, it appeared, at ten o’clock on Saturday morning, and
from that time the merriments of Easter have their commencement.

The whole of this day I spent in strolling over the different walks and
points of view from whence the town and surrounding country may be seen
to most advantage; and I certainly must pronounce it to be by far the
most magnificent colonial capital which I have visited. The streets are
in general wide, clean, and airy; the houses, except in the suburbs,
are composed entirely of stone, and being occasionally intermingled
with convents, churches, and other public buildings, produce a very
striking and handsome effect. Though surrounded by a rampart, Havannah
has little of the confined and straitened appearance by which fortified
towns are generally disfigured. The works being of great extent, have
left within their circumference abundant room for the display of
elegance and neatness in its construction, an advantage which has not
been neglected; whilst from their situation they command as glorious a
prospect as can well be imagined.

When you ascend a bastion which overhangs the harbour, the city, with
all its towers and spires, lies immediately and distinctly beneath your
gaze. Beyond it, again, you perceive a winding of the bay, which washes
three sides of the promontory where the city stands; numerous fields of
sugar-cane and Indian corn succeed, intersected by groves of orange and
other fruit trees, which extend for some miles in a sort of inclined
plane, and are at length bounded by lofty and rugged mountains. On your
left, again, is the creek or entrance to the bay, separating you from
the Moro, a line of castles remarkable for their strength and extent.
Behind sweep the waters of the Gulf of Mexico; and on the right is
another view much resembling that which lies before you, only that it
is more narrowed; the high ground bearing in this direction closer upon
the city. On the whole I do not remember to have been more forcibly
struck by any scenery than that which I beheld from this bastion; so
well were town and country, castles and convents, land and water, hill
and valley combined.

Having spent some hours in wandering through the city, I endeavoured to
make my way into the forts, and to examine the state of the works. But
in both of these attempts I was interrupted. Without an order from the
Governor, I was informed, that none, even of the natives, are permitted
to enter the Moro, and all applications on the part of foreigners are
uniformly refused. There was a degree of jealousy in this, as needless
as it was illiberal; but indeed the whole conduct of the Spanish
authorities gave proof of their reluctance to admit their old allies,
even to the common rites of hospitality. From the moment we entered the
harbour the militia of the island were called out, many of the guns
which commanded our shipping were shotted, and artillerymen with
lighted fuzes stood constantly beside them. An order was likewise
issued, prohibiting more than two persons to land at the same time from
each vessel, and many other precautions were taken, little
complimentary to the good faith of those to whom Spain must feel that
she owes her very existence. In spite of these drawbacks, however, I
contrived to spend a week in this city with much satisfaction. The
opera and theatre opening on Easter Sunday, and continuing open during
the remainder of our stay, furnished sufficient amusement for the
evenings, whilst in walking or riding about, in examining the different
churches and chapels, and in chatting with nuns through the grate, or
monks within their cells, my mornings passed away more quickly than I
desired.

At length our victualling and watering being complete, on the 9th of
April we bade adieu to the shores of Cuba, and running along with the
Gulf-stream, took our course towards Bermuda. The wind favoured us
greatly, and on the 17th we again reached these islands; where we
delayed till the 23rd, when, once more setting sail, we steered
directly for England. During the remainder of the voyage nothing of
importance occurred till the 7th of May, when, reaching in towards the
shores of Brest, we were astonished by beholding the tri-coloured flag
floating from the citadel. Of the mighty events which had taken place
in Europe, we were as yet in perfect ignorance. Though surprised,
therefore, at the first view of that beacon of war, we naturally
concluded it to be no more than a signal, and passed on without
inquiry. As we ascended the channel, however, we were hailed by a
schooner, which professed to communicate some news concerning
Buonaparte; but the wind being high, we could not distinctly tell what
was said; nor was it till the 9th, when we had anchored off Spithead,
that the reappearance of that wonderful man was made known.

The effect of this intelligence it would be difficult to describe. At
first it was received with acclamations, but by and bye those who had
dreamed of home began to perceive in it the destruction of their
visions. Yet we considered that we were soldiers, and certainly no
regret was experienced when we were ordered to re-embark, and sail for
the Downs.

REMARKS.

Having thus brought my narrative to a conclusion, I cannot lay aside my
pen without offering a few remarks upon the events of this busy year,
and the nature of an American war in general. In doing so, I shall
begin with the unfortunate attack upon New Orleans, and endeavour, in
as few words as possible, to assign the true causes of its failure.

From the account which I have given of this affair, it will appear
that, from its very commencement, it was replete with error, and gave
promise of no better result than actually occurred. I do not here
allude to the spot fixed upon for landing, because that was as
appropriate as could be chosen. Neither do I refer to the groundless
rumours brought in by deserters; for to such all assailants are liable;
but the error lay in the steps subsequently taken; in the unhappy
advance of the first division from a place of concealment into the open
country, without pushing forward to the extent required. The fact is,
that having reached the main land in safety, one out of two plans might
have been selected by General Keane; which, in all probability, would
have been equally attended with success. Either he might have remained
in the morass till the whole army was assembled, or, if this were
deemed too dangerous, he ought to have advanced upon the city with the
first division alone. If it be objected that a force of 1600 men was
incompetent for an undertaking so important as the latter, I reply that
there could be no more hazard in it than in the course actually
pursued. New Orleans is not a regular fortification requiring a large
army and a powerful battering train for its reduction. In obtaining
possession of such a place there would have been no difficulty, because
it has since been ascertained that the American troops were, at the
time of our landing, some miles above the city; and surely it would not
have been more difficult to repulse an attack within a town than in the
open country. But neither of these courses was adopted. The advance was
drawn from concealment, and halted just where it became most exposed,
as if it had been our design to warn the American General of his
danger; the consequence of which was a well-directed attack upon our
bivouac, and an immediate commencement of those works which afterwards
resisted and repelled all our efforts.

The second error evident in this business was the selection of the
schooner instead of the ship for destruction. Had the latter, which lay
farther up the stream been destroyed, the former never could have
passed our battery, nor been of further annoyance to us; whereas, the
schooner being burnt, the ship was only removed out of the reach of
danger, and posted where she could be infinitely more advantageous to
her friends and detrimental to her enemies. This in itself was a grave
error, which beyond all doubt contributed, in some degree, to our
repulse on the 29th of December.

The third error, and one which continued to exert its influence
throughout the whole campaign, was the delay in bringing on a general
action. Why our troops fell back on the 29th I confess is to me a
mystery. It was not to be supposed that an officer who had shown so
much judgment as the American General, Jackson, in his first endeavours
to check our advance, would lose the advantage which the nature of his
position afforded. That he would fortify the neck of land, indeed, was
exactly what might have been expected: and, therefore, every hour
during which an attack was deferred, contributed so much to his
strength and to our weakness. It is true that we should have suffered,
and perhaps suffered severely; but our chances of suffering were
certainly not diminished by delay. We ought, therefore, instead of
falling back, to have pursued our operations with vigour on that day;
because the American lines, being then incomplete, would have assisted
rather than retarded our progress.

It has been said, and perhaps truly, that the movement on the 29th was
never intended for more than a reconnoissance: and that the scheme
subsequently adopted, of overpowering the enemy’s fire by a superior
artillery brought from the fleet, was a wise one. All this may be true;
but as we did not succeed in silencing the enemy’s batteries, who, on
the contrary, put ours to silence, either the project was faulty in its
design, or some grievous error was committed in its execution. As far
as our position was affected by it, the results were these:—Three days
more were lost in making preparations, which ended in nothing; while,
by the enemy, these same days were judiciously and indefatigably
employed to improve their deficiency and recruit their force.

At last came the idea of digging a canal from the lakes to the river,
by means of which a portion of our army might be thrown to the other
side; a project which is said to have been suggested by Sir Alexander
Cochrane; but which, wheresoever originating, was at once bold and
judicious. The canal was accordingly formed; not, however, with
sufficient attention to the rules of art in like cases, as was shown by
the falling in of the banks, and the consequent impossibility of
bringing up boats to transport the whole detachment. Still there it
was, and 350 men, instead of 1400, made good their landing on the right
bank of the river. It is deeply to be regretted that Sir Edward
Pakenham did not delay his own advance with the main body till this
fact had been ascertained. His plan of battle was to carry the enemy’s
works on the right bank, to turn their own guns from that flank against
themselves, and to alarm them for their communications, ere he should
attack the main position on the left. Nor can it be doubted, that had
the detached corps arrived at the hour first named, an easy triumph
would have been achieved. But Pakenham was too fiery to restrain his
troops, after they had assumed their ground on his own side. Instead,
therefore, of causing the columns to fall back out of gun-shot, and
wait quietly till the battle began on the left, he hurried them into
action as soon as the day dawned; and they became exposed to the whole
of that volume of fire which it was one main object of his movement
across the Mississippi to destroy. Moreover, from all the moral effects
of a partial defeat the enemy were saved; and I need not say how
serious such things are to irregular and undisciplined bodies. I do not
mean to assert that, in spite of all this, the American lines ought not
to have been carried. On the contrary, had every officer and man done
his duty, the victory would have been complete, though purchased,
beyond a doubt, at a severe cost. Yet it is absurd to deny that,
speaking of the movement as an operation of war, the attack on the
right ought to have been withheld till that on the left had either
failed or succeeded. So far, therefore, the General is liable to
censure; and chivalrous and high-minded as he was, it is just that he
should receive it. But there were other causes of defeat than this;
among which, the gross misconduct of one individual deserves to be
especially noticed.

To Lieutenant-Colonel Mullens, with the 44th regiment, of which he was
in command, was intrusted the arduous and therefore honourable duty of
carrying the fascines and ladders. The orders were given in good time
over night; and Colonel Mullens received them as if they had conveyed a
sentence of death. He stated, in the hearing of the private soldiers,
that his corps was devoted to destruction; and conducted himself, in
every respect, like a condemned criminal on the night previous to his
execution. When the troops got under arms, instead of bringing his
battalion to the redoubt, where he had been instructed to find the
ladders, he marched directly past it, and led them into the field
without a single ladder or fascine. When the day dawned, and he was
sent back for these instruments, he headed his corps in its retrograde
movement, but left it to return as it could to the front; and when
sought for to guide the attack, he was nowhere to be found. That a
regiment thus abused and deserted by its commanding officer should fall
into confusion, cannot occasion any surprise; it would have been
surprising indeed, had a different result ensued. But the melancholy
effect of such confusion was, that other regiments were likewise
broken; and before order could be restored, all the Generals were borne
dead or wounded from the field. A large share, therefore, of the blame
attachable to this failure must rest where fidelity of narration has
obliged me to place it.

Again, the recall of the victorious detachment from the left to the
right bank of the Mississippi, and the consequent abandonment of that
complete command of the river which this partial success had obtained,
was a military error of the gravest kind. Great as our numerical loss
had been in the principal action of the 8th, the advantages of position
were at the close of the day so decidedly with us, that for General
Jackson to maintain himself any longer in front of New Orleans was
physically impossible. His own dispatch, indeed, addressed to the
Secretary-at-War, shows that he felt the truth so forcibly, that he had
actually issued orders for a retreat, when the removal of the English
from his menaced flank was reported to him; and his battalions, which
had begun to get under arms, were directed to resume their places. It
is, however, but just to state, that such was the miserable condition
of our commissariat, that the fleet contained not provisions enough to
feed the people on half rations during a quick passage to Cuba; and
General Lambert did not feel that he would be justified in risking the
total loss of his army, which, had the campaign been prolonged another
fortnight, must under such circumstances have taken place. That he
erred in this supposition is certain; but his was probably an error
into which most men similarly circumstanced would have fallen.

But the primary cause of all our disasters may be traced to a source
even more distant than any yet mentioned; I mean, to the disclosure of
our designs to the enemy. How this occurred I shall not take it upon me
to declare, though several rumours bearing at least the guise of
probability have been circulated. The attack upon New Orleans was
professedly a secret expedition; so secret, indeed, that it was not
communicated to the inferior officers and soldiers in the armament till
immediately previous to our quitting Jamaica. To the Americans,
however, it appears to have been known long before; and hence it was
that, instead of taking them unawares, we found them fully prepared for
our reception. Nor is this all. It appears difficult to account for the
degree of negligence which affected the naval heads of the present
expedition, as far as the providing a competent number of boats and
small craft to transport the troops is concerned. Throughout the whole
fleet, barges enough to carry one-half of the army could not be found;
whereas there ought to have been a sufficient quantity to contain not
only the entire force, but all its stores and ammunition. To this
neglect, indeed, more perhaps than to any other circumstances, is the
failure of the attempt to be attributed; since not a doubt can exist
that, if General Keane had been enabled to bring the whole of his army
to land on the morning of the 23rd, he would have reached New Orleans,
without firing a shot, before nightfall. But the opportunity is past,
it cannot be recalled, and therefore to point out errors on the part of
my countrymen can serve no good end. That the failure is to be lamented
no one will deny, since the conquest of New Orleans would have proved
beyond all comparison the most valuable acquisition that could be made
to the British dominions throughout the whole western hemisphere. In
possession of that post we should have kept the entire southern trade
of the United States in check, and furnished means of commerce to our
own merchants of incalculable value.

The fact, however, is, that when we look back upon the whole series of
events produced by the late American war, we shall find little that is
likely to flatter our vanity or increase our self-importance. Except a
few successes in Canada at its very commencement, and the brilliant
inroad upon Washington, it will be found that our arms have been
constantly baffled or repulsed on shore; whilst at sea, with the
exception of the capture of the Chesapeake and one or two other affairs
towards its conclusion, we have been equally unsuccessful. From what
cause does this proceed? Not from any inferiority in courage or
discipline, because in these particulars British soldiers and sailors
will yield to none in the world. There must, then, be some other cause
for these misfortunes, and the cause is surely one which has
continually baffled all our plans of American warfare.

We have long been habituated to despise the Americans as an enemy
unworthy of serious regard. To this alone it is to be attributed that
frigates half manned were sent out to cope with ships capable of
containing them within their hulls; and to this also the trifling
handfuls of troops dispatched to conduct the war by land. Instead of
fifteen hundred, had ten thousand men sailed from the Garonne under
General Ross, how differently might he have acted! There would have
been then no necessity for a reembarkation after the capture of
Washington, and consequently no time given for the defence of
Baltimore; but, marching across the country, he might have done to the
one city what he did to the other. And it is thus only that a war with
America can be successfully carried on. To penetrate up the country
amidst pathless forests and boundless deserts, and to aim at permanent
conquest, is out of the question. America must be assaulted only on her
coasts. Her harbours destroyed, her shipping burned, and her seaport
towns laid waste, are the only evils which she has reason to dread; and
were a sufficient force embarked with these orders, no American war
would be of long continuance.

A melancholy experience has now taught us that such a war must not be
entered into, unless it be conducted with spirit; and there is no
conducting it with spirit, except with a sufficient numerical force. To
the plan proposed of making desert the whole line of coast, it may be
objected, that by so doing we should distress individuals, and not the
Government. But they who offer this objection, forget the nature both
of the people whose cause they plead, and of the Government under which
they live. In a democratical Government, the voice of the people must
at all times prevail. The members of the House of Representatives are
the very persons who, from such proceedings, would suffer most
severely, and we all know how far private suffering goes to influence a
man’s public opinions. Besides, the principle upon which the advocates
for the sacredness of private property proceed, is erroneous. Every one
will allow that, in absolute monarchies, where war is more properly the
pastime of kings than the desire of subjects, non-combatants ought to
be dealt with as humanely as possible. Not so, how ever, in States
governed by popular assemblies. By compelling the constituents to
experience the real hardships and miseries of warfare, you will compel
the representatives to a vote of peace; and surely that line of conduct
is, upon the whole, most humane, which puts the speediest period to the
cruelties of war. There are few men who would not rather endure a
raging fever for three days, than a slow and lingering disease for
three months. So it is with a democracy at war. Burn their houses,
plunder their property, block up their harbours, and destroy their
shipping in a few places; and before you have time to proceed to the
rest, you will be stopped by entreaties for peace. Whereas, if you do
no mischief that can be avoided, if you only fight their fleets and
armies wherever you meet them, and suffer the inhabitants to live in
undisturbed tranquillity, they will continue their hostilities till
they have worn out the means of one party, and greatly weakened those
of both.

Should another war break out between Great Britain and America, this is
the course to be adopted by the former. Besides which, I humbly
conceive that a second attempt might be hazarded upon New Orleans,
because the importance of the conquest would authorise almost any
sacrifice for its attainment; and once gained, it could easily be
defended. The neck of land, upon which it is built, extends in the same
form above as below the town; and the same advantages which it holds
out to its present defenders would, of course, be afforded to us. A
chain of works thrown across from the river to the marsh would render
it inaccessible from above; whilst by covering the lakes and the
Mississippi with cruisers, all attacks from below would be sufficiently
guarded against.

THE END.