The Campaigns of the British Army at Washington and New Orleans 1814 1815
G >> G. R. Gleig >> The Campaigns of the British Army at Washington and New Orleans 1814 1815The 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.
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.