Tennessee at the Battle of New Orleans
I
Few events in the history of our nation have left the imprint of greatness upon participating individuals and groups as did the memorable Battle of New Orleans, January 8, 1815, the culmination of the War of 1812. Out of the great victory, there emerged on the national scene, in the person of Andrew Jackson, a leader destined for future greatness. At the same time, those dissident Federalist voices which regarded disunion as the solution to the ills facing the young republic were quieted. With the battle over, the abortive Hartford Convention of December, 1814, stood in mute contrast to the patriotic devotion to country rendered by unlearned frontiersmen.1 The question of the possession of legal title to western lands acquired from France by the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 was quickly settled. Not the least result was the breaking of alliances which had existed between the Creek Indians and their British and Spanish allies.
It is impressive that so much could be accomplished for young America from a military engagement which lasted little more than two hours. The Battle of New Orleans, which occurred after the signing of the peace treaty at Ghent in December, has been referred to as a useless expenditure of life and time. One must remember, however, that the issues leading to the battle evolved over a long period of time, many of them dating back to the Revolution. A climax to the friction existing between America and Great Britain was inevitable. In this conflict, Tennessee played a prominent role, not only as a participant in the final action of the war, but in the developments preceding it. Indeed, it is important to note that Tennessee was influential in putting into motion the machinery which brought about the dramatic event, from which national attention was focused upon the Volunteer State and her courageous sons.
II
Felix Grundy, Nashville’s vocal and eloquent attorney, was elected in 1811 to the United States Congress on a platform demanding war with Great Britain. Grundy, a native Virginian who had also lived in Pennsylvania and Kentucky, resented the policy of Spain and Great Britain which was to incite the southern Indians against frontiersmen who were inexorably pushing further to the west. Tennessee, then in its early commercial development, was particularly concerned over this issue because the trade routes to New Orleans and Mobile were under almost constant attack by well-armed red men.
Once seated in Congress, Grundy wasted no time in pressing his attack. He aligned himself with Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, William Lowndes, and others who earned for themselves the title “War Hawks” by their insistence upon war. To them, the time was ripe for such a step since the Napoleonic War with England was in progress, and it offered an opportunity for America to profit from the turmoil in Europe. Unrelentingly the “War Hawks” pressed their cause until public opinion forced a reluctant Congress and President James Madison to declare war against England on June 16, 1812.2
Tennesseans had watched with dismay the significant success which British troops enjoyed along the Canadian boundary, and across the northeastern tier of states. Their concern was intensified with the burning of Washington on August 24, 1814. Many westerners regarded Federalist inertia toward the war with Britain as largely responsible for the ineffective resistance being offered. Some Northern governors had refused to answer the War Department’s call for militia, while others would not assume their proportionate share of the financial obligation.
After the sack of Washington, the British vessels and troops disappeared and left Americans wondering where the next blow would come. James Monroe, the tough-fisted new Secretary of State, concluded that the abrupt thrust against Washington and Baltimore was only a feint, designed to confuse the government while the enemy concentrated his forces elsewhere for a major invasion. With winter approaching, it seemed reasonable to assume that the strike, if made, would be in the South—probably at some point in the Gulf region where the defenses left much to be desired. As Monroe contemplated the portentous days ahead, he was relieved to know that the newly appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Seventh Military District, comprising the states of Tennessee, Louisiana, and the Mississippi Territory, was Major General Andrew Jackson of Tennessee.3
Jackson had recently received national attention by the overwhelming victory which he and his Tennessee militiamen, led by Generals John Coffee and William Carroll, won over the Creek Indians at the Battle of Horseshoe Bend on March 27, 1814. There the westerners struck a mortal blow at the repugnant British-Indian alliance, which many believed was responsible for the infamous massacre of men, women, and children at Fort Mims.
III
On his return from Horseshoe Bend, Jackson was acclaimed throughout Middle Tennessee for his victory, and was given spectacular public receptions in Gallatin and Nashville. But his stay in Tennessee was brief and he moved south again, this time to Mobile, where he established headquarters in late August, 1814.4 Jackson’s use of Mobile as his base of operations was fortunate, for two weeks later British vessels appeared at the entrance to Mobile Bay and made a concerted attack on Fort Bowyer (now Fort Morgan). However, the tiny garrison of 130 men stood fast and when one of the British frigates ran aground, exploded, and burned, the fleet withdrew to an unknown area. Jackson speculated over Britain’s future intentions.
The thrust against Mobile convinced Jackson that an invasion of major proportions somewhere along the coast was imminent. A likely site, he thought, would be Pensacola, which was still under Spanish control. Spain, it will be recalled, was England’s ally against France but was neutral toward America. Spain’s neutrality, Jackson believed, was only a veneer for her selfish interests which she would direct against the United States the moment a suitable opportunity arose. Then, too, there were the Creeks. Jackson had broken their power at Horseshoe Bend, but they remained in the vicinity, possibly ready to resume hostilities if supported by a strong belligerent. Before leaving Nashville, Jackson had conferred with Governor Willie Blount about sending a brigade of mounted Tennessee militiamen under Brigadier General John Coffee to join him in Mobile. Now he sent urgent word for the militiamen to come without delay!
The fraternal feeling existing between John Coffee and Andrew Jackson ran deep. Each man, completely devoted to the other, was willing to undergo the most rigid personal sacrifice should the other command it. Coffee, “tall, broad-shouldered, gentle in manner, but brave and intelligent,” had executed the key move that bottled up the Creeks at Horseshoe Bend.5 With his usual alacrity, he once again answered his country’s call to duty and ordered his troops to rendezvous in Fayetteville on October 3. Patriotic feeling swept across Tennessee as Coffee’s veterans, with the fire of battle still flashing in their eyes, emerged from the hills, valleys, and hamlets to make the long trek southward for the second time within a year. Most of them were simple countrymen, armed only with their long rifles and knives and attired in the clothing of the frontier. Their pantaloon pockets were filled with bullets. In this manner they responded to the appeal to “come forward … as there (could not) be a moment’s delay.”6
Jackson’s recall of the Tennessee militia, already schooled in the kind of wilderness warfare which appeared forthcoming, was a wise decision. Against the Creeks these men had subsisted for months in the Alabama back country with only scanty supplies. Their mobility, loyalty, and capacity to move upon their objective with a minimum loss of time made Jackson confident that here was a fighting force well prepared to meet any test.
At Fayetteville, Coffee mustered 2,000 men into service, and organized two divisions under Colonels Robert H. Dyer and Thomas Williamson. At dawn on October 5, the high-spirited troops began their long march southward over the familiar trails which they had traveled the previous year. During the march, their ranks were swelled by the addition of 800 more men, including four East Tennessee companies. Coffee’s men reached Camp Gaines, 70 miles north of Mobile, on October 22, after having traveled 470 miles in 18 days.7 That autumn trip had been accomplished with a minimum of sickness and no deaths, and the men were inspired with the feeling that Nature’s blessing was upon them, however arduous the campaign might be.
With