Many volunteer companies joined the American fight. There were Plauche’s battalion—all Frenchmen, very martial, who came in running, along with a Battalion of Men of Colour under Major Daquin, and Beale’s Famous Rifles, composed of young professional citizens wearing blue hunting shirts with citizen hats. All were crack shots. There were Listeau’s Freemen of Color and a hundred Choctaw Indians. And when they marched they sang “Yankee Doodle” or “La Marseillaise” or “Le Chant du Depart.” When the British heard them all shouting orders they thought they were fighting a huge Allied Army!

On Dec. 23, the British were two hours from the city. When Jackson heard the news he decided on a night attack. He vowed that “no British soldier would ever sleep on American soil.” The schooner Carolina was sent at 3 a.m. to position itself against the British camp for a nighttime bombardment. Jackson led his men through the St. Charles gate accompanied by the 7th U.S. Infantry, 66 Marines under Lieutenant Francis deBellevue, Plauche’s men, Gen. Coffee’s 800 Tennessee mounted infantry, the Colored Battalion, U.S. artillery, Beale’s men, and Hind’s Troop of Mississippi dragoons with Gen. Carroll’s Tennessee militia in reserve. The Tennesseans, or “Dirty Shirts’ as the British condescendingly called them, wore wool hunting shirts, copper-dyed trousers, coonskin caps, and belts stuck with hunting knives and tomahawks. They were fearless and awesome militia who, armed with their Kentucky rifles, could hit a squirrel at 100 yards.

Facing them were veteran British regiments: 93rd Highland, 1,100 men; six companies of the 95th Rifles, 500; 14th Duchess of York Light Dragoons, 350; the 1st and 5th West India, 1,400 and; a rocket brigade, artillery, engineers, and sappers and miners, 1,500 for a total of 4,300 men under Major General John Keane. Added to this were General Ross’ 3,000 men fresh from burning and plundering Washington; the 4th Kings Own, 750; 44th Essex, 750; 85th Buck Volunteer Light Infantry, 650; 21st Royal Fusiliers, 850—all who fought in Spain with Wellington against Napoleon.

At 7 p.m., the Carolina opened fire with grape and musket shot at the British camp of 1,800 men. Her captain yelled, “Give them this, for the honor of America.” With deadly rapidity and precision, the terrible havoc threw the camp into blind disorder. Many British took cover under the Mississippi levee.

The Americans then attacked and the whole heavens seemed ablaze in musketry. All British discipline was lost. British officers had knots of 20 to 30 men plunging into the American ranks. General Pakenham reported, “A more extraordinary conflict has, perhaps, never occurred, absolutely hand to hand, both officers and men.”

Jackson led the attack on the left. The Tennesseans, the dragoons and Beale’s Rifles, skirting the edge of the swamp, hit the British on the right. Trained with the rifle since childhood, the Tennesseans fired close and didn’t miss a shot. The short English musket was no match for the Yankee long bore. With no time to “fix bayonets,” the British clubbed their muskets while Coffee’s men used their long knives and tomahawks hand-to-hand.

The British wrestled the cannon from the artillerymen and the Marines. The Marines rallied, and with help from the 7th, retrieved their guns. With the fog rolling in, people were shooting at anything that flashed. The British had lost 247 and the Americans 213. When the 2nd British division came up, Jackson called it off.

Major Mitchell of the 95th Rifles was captured, and, much to his chagrin, his sword was surrendered to the Dirty Shirts. But the British prisoners were sent to Natchez and were lavishly treated. Jackson had the Rodriquez canal reinforced and established his HQ at the McCarty plantation. Because of the bold American action, the British thought they had fought 5,000 Yankees that night.

On the 24th, the Louisiana joined the Carolina in pounding the British camp. True to Jackson’s word, the British could never get a night’s rest while in front of New Orleans, and it weakened their performance.

The next day, a peace treaty was signed across the Atlantic in Ghent, Belgium, even as this bombardment raged on. Communication was slow in those days, so the men in front of New Orleans fought on unaware.

The Americans formed their line on the Rodriquez Canal—a mile long, 20 feet wide and four feet deep. It ran from the Mississippi to the swamp and a parapet was formed with cotton bales. Twelve cannon were formed into batteries and Lafitte’s pirates, along with a battalion of Creole volunteers under Major Plauche, brought in much needed powder. Marine Major Daniel Carmick and 58 Marines from the New Orleans Navy Yard took position in the redoubt next to the river.

Sir Edward Pakenham arrived as the new Commander-in-Chief. Wounded many times, he was the brother-in-law of Wellington and had led the storming party at Badajoz—the toughest fight in Spain. He was knighted for his charge at Salamanca and was promised the governorship of Louisiana once taken. Wellington was offered the command of the American invasion, but refused. He wanted nothing to do with the war on America.

By the 26th, guns were brought up from the fleet to silence the two American ships. It took three days of herculean effort to slog them through the swamp and mud. The plan was to silence the ships and take the American line by storm. Cannonading on both sides commenced and in a half hour the Carolina blew up. The Louisiana was towed upriver to escape the same fate.

On the night of Dec. 27, the British in two lines moved up to within 600 yards of the American line and encamped for the night ready for a morning assault. Jackson kept reinforcing the rampart and had the levee cut to flood the river road—but the river didn’t comply. Instead, the new water filled dry canals and bayous making it easier for the British to float their great guns into battery. The Americans now had 4,000 men and 20 cannon. The British had 8,000 effectives.

First Attack: The British attacked in two columns: Keane’s by the levee, and General Gibbs on the right with artillery and rocket support. Rockets were a new invention primarily used as a scare tactic, especially against untried militia. But unlike Revolutionary War militia, these American sons stood their ground. The rockets only wounded two Americans and blew up two ammo caissons. “The rockets’ red glare” is in our national anthem because of this timely ordnance.

The British 95th advanced on the field with the glitter of their uniforms and equipment moving as if on dress parade—a display of the majesty of power such as the Americans had never seen. The British were blinded by their pride. They thought that their pompous display would intimidate the American militia and make them run.

The American cannons loaded with double canister—musket size balls—opened up on this wonderful spectacle. The havoc was terrible, and by noon, the first attack had failed. Marine Major Carmick was among the wounded, hit in the forehead by a rocket fragment. He died two years later from this wound. The British cannon were brought back and the army retreated to Bienvenu plantation while the Americans constructed a battery with the Louisiana’s guns across the river on the right bank.

Second Attack: On the night of the 31st, half of the British marched to within 400 yards of Line Jackson under newly-arrived engineer Sir John Burgoyne. Burgoyne’s father had surrendered a British army at the Battle of Saratoga 38 years earlier. The British erected three demilunes with ten heavy cannon in each with ammo to last for six hours. While the Americans paraded their music, the British opened their new cannonade, setting ablaze the American rampart made from cotton bales. In return fire, the British batteries that used hogsheads of sugar as cannon emplacements were demolished. In half an hour, the American cannon had leveled the British cannon entrenchments. The English retired again for the second time.

On Jan. 1, 1815, the Marines under Lieutenant deBellevue were positioned on the right of line Jackson with the New Orleans rifles supporting Battery No. 1 and the 7th infantry, today called the Cottonbalers, on their left.

Third Attack: By now the British were drained of energy. Because of the American cannon, they had not slept for two days and nights. On Jan. 7, the British extended the Villere’s canal two miles to the river by digging. The new British plan was to take the right bank, and then with enfilade fire, gain Line Jackson. They formed 10,000 men in three attack columns. Lambert, with 1,400 men, was to take the right bank; Gibbs was to storm the left of Line Jackson, and Keane the right.

Fortunately for Jackson, the 2,300-strong Kentucky militia showed up. They had traveled 1,500 miles in such a rush that only a third had rifles, and most of them were in rags. The citizens raised $16,000 to buy woolens and blankets with which the ladies would clothe them. More American reinforcements were coming in: Major General Thomas and 500 men of the 2nd Louisiana militia from Baton Rouge, and Major General Villere with 300 men of the 1st Louisiana militia from the Arcadian coast. All told, four-fifths of Jackson’s men were militia.

The British had more divisions coming on line: the 7th Royal Fusiliers with 850 men; 40th Sommersetshire, 1,000; 43rd Light Infantry, 850; 44th Essex, 750; one Detachment of the 62nd, 350; Royal Marines, 1,500 and; sailors from the fleet, 2,000.

The Americans positioned 4,000 men on the left bank. Coffee’s men, on the right, were extended so far into the swamp to prevent a British flank movement that they stood knee-deep in mud for days and at night slept on floating logs tied to trees. Another line was prepared a mile and a half in the rear manned by the sick and not able-bodied. A third line also was prepared by African-Americans. Four parishes loaned their negroes to work on fortifications. At the same time, the British were taking all the negroes from the plantations they occupied, for sale in the West Indies.

On Jan. 8, the attack started without a noise from the right bank. The 44th failed to bring up the ladders and fascines, made up of bundles of sticks to fill the ditch for climbing onto the American rampart. The indigent Gibbs exclaimed, “Let me live until to-morrow, and I’ll hang him (Colonel Mullen of the 44th) to the highest tree in that swamp.” Some historians claim the British lost the battle because of this failure.

 

Clothing the “Dirty Shirts”

The citizens of New Orleans contributed $16,000 for clothing the 2,300 Kentucky militia who arrived hastily in January. The ladies of the town, in one week’s time, made 1,200 blanket coats or capotes, 275 waistcoats, 1,127 pairs of pantaloons, 800 shirts, 410 pairs of shoes and a great number of mattresses.

 

The Americans poured on grape shot while the British fired rockets to cover the attack. The American batteries were cutting great lines through the British column from front to rear. Jackson yelled, “Stand to your guns, don’t waste your ammunition, see that every shot tells,” and “Give it to them boys! Let us finish this business today.” The Americans had three firing lines. The first rank was the dead-shot Tennesseans, then two ranks of the newly-clad Kentuckians. Three revolving fire-lines poured out lead and iron on the redcoats. With the British now 200 yards away, the Americans were firing with deadly mechanical precision.

The British advanced on the ditch and breastwork in a case of imbecile military movement. But these were Wellington’s veterans who beat Napoleon, so they advanced confidently.

At the redoubt, the Marines were at first overrun, but regained their position. Pakenham’s arm was shattered and his horse killed. He then mounted a black Creole horse. Most British officers were hit and their column broke and fell back. They retreated to the swamp, reformed, took their packs off, and were again beaten back. A colonel mounting the breastwork fell dead inside the lines. The 93rd now moved forward. Stalwart Highlanders with their skirling bagpipes closed in with a 100-man front. Two Highland generals went down. Without their officers, many men faltered, but the Highlanders kept coming to a point 100 yards in front of the flaming parapet. Five hundred of the Highlanders were hit and the rest broke and fled, some crawling on all fours.

Pakenham’s second horse had been downed and he was hit in the thigh by grape-shot. Hit again in the groin, he died under an oak tree that still stands on the battlefield. Gibbs and Kane were both wounded. Major Wilkinson was hit on the parapet, his body carried through the American lines where the Tennessee and Kentucky men murmured sympathy and regret to him. The British broke.

Each British regiment by now had lost two-thirds of its men. The 93rd went in 900 strong and came out with 109. The British advance in the face of murderous fire, against men they couldn’t hit, was both heroic and insane. In front of the canal, 2,100 lay dead and wounded.

The battle lasted 25 minutes. The British reserve under Lambert came up, but only to cover the retreat. Surprisingly, the British had taken the right bank and captured an American flag, but the breakthrough was not exploted. By 8 a.m. the firing had stopped.

The American band played “Hail Columbia” and the Americans cheered. Then, the Americans fell silent, for as the British left the field they exposed the numerous corpses on the plain. They could not help feeling sympathy for all those unfortunate victims.

A quarter mile of British killed and disabled remained on the field. The course of the attacking columns could be traced by the red uniforms on the ground. At noon, the British asked for and were granted an armistice to bury their dead. Seven hundred were buried. Gibbs and Pakenham’s bodies were encased in a barrel of spirits and shipped to England for burial. Of the 6,000 British engaged, 2,600 were lost. Amazingly, only eight Americans were killed and 63 wounded. Four hundred British wounded were taken by the Americans. By the next day, the bloody field was bare.

Over 2,000 blacks died from among the West Indian troops between January and March. Because of the wet soil; 500 Dirty Shirts died from fever and dysentery. The New Orleans hospitals being full, private homes were used for the British wounded. They were attended by quadroon (one-quarter white) nurses—the best nurses in the city.

After the armistice, the American batteries resumed fire. On Jan. 18th, Lambert asked for an exchange of prisoners. The British took nine days to leave, spiking their abandoned guns and leaving their unmovable wounded for the Americans. On the night of the 18th, the British army stealthily left the field after lighting their camp fires and erecting stuffed dummy sentinels. They marched all night and reached Lake Borgne at daybreak. General Hubert, one of Napoleon’s men, said, “They are gone. There’s crows sitting on the sentinels.”

Lambert asked Jackson to care for the sick and wounded and if he could buy provisions for his men at New Orleans for the voyage home. Carriages were sent to comfort the enemy. On Mar. 17th, the British returned to their fleet on the lake, never to return.

When the troops reached England, they were re-embarked for Belgium to join Wellington’s army for Waterloo. Gen. Lambert was knighted for gallantry at New Orleans. The state of Kentucky levied 10,000 more militia for Louisiana, in case the British returned.

Jackson had defeated the flower of Wellington’s army—something Napoleon had not been able to do. The Duke of Wellington showed great admiration for Gen. Jackson and his genius after the battle, and would often inquire about him.

General Jackson commended the Marines for their valor. On Washington’s Birthday, Congress passed a resolution, “Resolved That Congress entertain a high sense of the valor and good conduct of Marine Maj. Daniel Carmick, of the officers, non-commissioned officers, and Marines under his command, in the defence of the said city, on the late memorable occasion.”

On Feb. 11, word reached New York that the peace had been signed in December. The entire Battle of New Orleans was fought with the war already over.