by Dan Richardson
The military history of Great Britain is long, glorious, and rich in tradition. For centuries, more consistently than the fighting men of any other nation, British soldiers and sailors have displayed iron discipline, sheer courage, and a grim determination to win. Exceptional skill with weapons--whether with the deadly longbow; the "Brown Bess" or Lee-Enfield; the bill or bayonet--has also played an important role in their success.
[1]
From the day Harold lost his head at Hastings, the soldiers of the kings and queens of England have fought well and died hard. In the years between the last of Napoleon's Hundred Days and the unification of South Africa, the British Army fought in two major wars and some eighty other "campaigns and expeditions of varying scale." This was the "article" used by the Crown to fashion an empire. In the twentieth-century the empire was lost, but Great Britain and democracy were saved. [2]
Impressive as the military victories of the British are, even more remarkable is their resilience and sangfroid in the face of disaster. Typically British are the remarks, "The Army doesn't like more than one disaster in a day . . . Looks bad in the newspapers and upsets civilians at their breakfast." Time and time again, over the more than five hundred years that have passed since the end of the Hundred Years' War, with few exceptions, England has been able to recover from disaster to win wars. [3]
The wars matching Britain against the United States are two instances when the Redcoats were unable to turn defeat into victory. Saratoga and Yorktown, as well as the "victory" at Breed's Hill, rank among the island nation's worst military disasters. But the most one-sided bloodbath in the history of the British Army was suffered during the War of 1812 at the hands of American general Andrew Jackson and "the most polyglot army that ever fought beneath the Stars and Stripes." The location of this disaster was New Orleans. [4]
The popular and mistaken belief that the Treaty of Ghent had already ended the War of 1812 before the Battle of New Orleans took place has served to lessen its perceived importance. In reality, Jackson's victory preserved U.S. territorial gains and prevented the British from reestablishing themselves on the continent in a position to block American expansion. For these reasons, New Orleans ranks with Yorktown, Gettysburg, and Midway as one of the most decisive and significant military engagements in United States history. [5]
English historians regard the Battle of New Orleans as a minor setback; as merely "a foolish attack against a strong position." After all, they have Kabul, the Charge of the Light Brigade, and Isandlwana to consider. The Boers administered thrashings at Majuba Hill, Colenso, and Spion Kop. The Great War produced Gallipoli, Kut, and the first day on the Somme. Finally, World War II brought the calamities of Dunkirk, Dieppe, Singapore and Tobruk. Many of these defeats were certainly more decisive and resulted in greater numbers of British casualties than the Battle of the Bayous. But at nowhere were the total losses suffered by each side as disparate as at New Orleans. [6]
On paper at least, the expedition to capture New Orleans does not appear to have had the potential of becoming another Walcheren or Buenos Aires. The British had been fighting the French almost continually for a generation, and under the Duke of Wellington, had finally defeated them in the Peninsula. In 1815, the British Army was at the height of its glory, enjoying a reputation at a level equal to that gained under the Duke of Marlborough. It was "tough, well-trained, and considered with good reason to be virtually unbeatable." [7]
So what went wrong? Why did the attack on New Orleans fail so miserably? What were the critical decisions and events that led to one of the most humiliating defeats in English history? First of all, there were serious deficiencies in the British chain-of-command, including lack of independent command experience and overconfidence. Secondly, the fighting experience of many of the regiments that participated in the expedition was limited and their quality questionable. Finally, the planning and execution of the grand attack on the morning of January 8, 1815 was flawed. Alone, none of these would necessarily have been a major problem. Combined, they amounted to disaster for the British at New Orleans.
The defeat and abdication of Napoleon in the spring of 1814 had brought an end to the European War. British troops in France and Spain were now available to participate in offensive operations against the United States. Aiming to chastise and humiliate "her wayward prodigal," his Majesty's government planned a three-pronged campaign with the intention to not only humble the Americans, but to leave them in a much worse situation as a commercial and naval power than before the war. Peace would be dictated "at the point of a bayonet." [8]
Reverses at Baltimore, Lake Champlain, and Plattsburg halted British advances in the east and north. By the winter of 1814, only the southern operation, with the ultimate goal of capturing of the city of New Orleans, remained. In this last crucial phase of their strategic campaign, the British now needed a victory more than ever to erase their earlier failures and ensure a favorable peace settlement. [9]
In command of the expedition's naval forces, and all other naval operations in North America, was Vice-Admiral Sir Alexander Forrester Inglis Cochrane. Fifty-six years of age, he was a veteran officer whose service and fame were already legendary. Having planned the earlier Chesapeake operations, the admiral was "belligerent and edgy" over the unforeseen setbacks suffered there. He was anxious for revenge. [10]
It was Cochrane who recommended the southern expedition to his government. The admiral's "wildly optimistic" report estimated that three thousand British troops, with the aid of Indians and local Frenchmen and Spaniards, could drive the Americans out of Louisiana and Florida. To English historian Sir John Fortescue, this estimate was "a piece of folly so childish that it ought to have warned the British ministers against listening to any of his projects." But listen they did. [11]
Cochrane's advice was due chiefly to his desire for prize money, which had "for centuries been the motive of all amphibious operations recommended by the navy." Plunder was part of a navy man's incentive and was readily acknowledged as a realistic motive. The admiral, having promised his sailors a rich reward, was impatient to get at the city's warehouses, which were packed with two year's accumulation of merchandise. Estimated at $20 million, the loss of this "hoard" would be a serious blow to America's economy, and would make wealthy men of Cochrane and his subordinates. [12]
Admiral Cochrane's official instructions from the Admiralty gave him the option of landing at Mobile and advancing overland or striking directly at the city. His ultimate goal was to "obtain command of the embouchure of the Mississippi" so as to block the back settlements of American from communications with the sea. The capture of New Orleans would also satisfy the goal of occupying "some important and valuable possession" for use as a bargaining tool during peace negotiations. [13]
The fleet had orders to set sail from Jamaica no later than November 22, 1814. By that date, however, the man intended to command the expedition's land forces, Gen. Sir Edward Pakenham, had not yet arrived. The invasion fleet waited four days then, with a "confident anticipation of success . . . and in hope of an ample reward in store," sailed without him. [14]
The Hero of Salamanca was a "peculiar choice" as army commander. Selected after his predecessor, Maj. Gen. Robert Ross, was killed at Baltimore, Sir Edward was very brave and well-liked by everyone, but had "not the slightest experience in independent command." He owed his appointment largely to his position as brother-in-law of the great Iron Duke, who regarded him as something of a "blockhead." [15]
For a man of thirty-eight, leadership of an army was certainly a proud distinction. But Pakenham had his sights set even higher. Awaiting him as conqueror of New Orleans was the King's commission as governor of Louisiana and the promise of an earldom. Also looming was a fortune in prize money. [16]
The new commander, accompanied by an experienced and much-decorated staff, boldly set sail for America with specific instructions to operate "without regards" for any talk of peace negotiations or treaties. Distrusting Cochrane, Pakenham showed "great anxiety" during the voyage to arrive at the scene of operations before his troops were put on shore. As it turned out, his fears were well-founded. [17]
When the commanding general finally arrived in camp on Christmas day, he found the army in a position "from which all his abilities could scarcely expect to extricate them." The crucial decisions of the campaign had already been made and the lines of battle drawn. His force was cooped up on a muddy plain three-quarters of a mile broad between the Mississippi River on the left and cypress swamps on the right. In front was Jackson's fortified position and to the rear Lake Borgne and the sea. The only base of supply was eighty miles distant and accessible only in open boats. Seeing the bad situation into which the admiral had maneuvered the army, Pakenham was with good reason furious. [18]
Responsible for the army's predicament, along with Admiral Cochrane, was Maj. Gen. John Keane. "Improperly groomed for such responsibility," Keane had assumed temporary command after the death of Ross with instructions to be guided "by the counsel and opinion of Cochrane." The pair was initially successful. By December 23 they had "humbugged" Jackson and advanced with part of the army to within eight miles of the defenseless city. Only "miraculous intervention" could have saved the city had the British continued to advance. But allowing himself to be misled by prisoners as to the size of the American force, Keane hesitated. [19]
Apprehensive that his communications with the fleet might be cut off and his force surrounded by overwhelming numbers, Keane decided to delay his attack until reinforcements arrived. It was a fatal error. While Keane dawdled, Jackson moved. By the time the British concentrated and were again ready to resume the advance, Jackson had recovered and was dug in four miles south of the city. [20]
Having lost the initiative and seeing little hope of success, Pakenham wanted to withdraw the army and land elsewhere. But Cochrane, thinking of all that "lovely plunder," demanded an immediate attack. He vowed scornfully that if the army shrunk from the task, he would bring up the sailors and marines from the fleet and storm the American lines. "The soldiers," he said, "could then bring up the baggage." Stinging from the admiral's insults, Pakenham yielded and agreed to attack Jackson's fortifications. He "sacrificed reason in a moment of irritation" and would pay with his life for acting contrary to his own judgement. [21]
For two weeks following his arrival, Pakenham built up his strength and prepared his master stroke. Several limited attacks were made to test the enemy's defenses. Heavy guns were brought up from the fleet in an attempt to blow the American earthworks apart. The bombardment was not only ineffective, but the British got the worst of the artillery duel that ensued. [22]
Following the arrival of Maj. Gen. John Lambert's brigade on January 6, Pakenham finally felt strong enough to try a massed frontal assault. He now had over 8,000 regulars to Jackson's mixed bag of 5,700. A plan was developed that featured surprise combined with heavy fire power. Dependent on swift execution and close coordination under the cover of darkness, the plan was doomed from the start. Like so many other brilliant strategies in the history of warfare, it began to unravel before the first shot was fired. [23]
The British attack was scheduled to began before sunrise on the morning of January 8. The battle plan called for a night attack across the river to capture the batteries emplaced there, the guns of which were in a position to enfilade the ground over which the attackers must advance. Once the cannon were seized they were to be turned on Jackson's main position. At sunrise, Pakenham's principle force was to advance in three columns and break the American line. [24]
With the approach of dawn, Pakenham's plan began to fall apart. The troops entrusted with the cross-river assault got started late and were short of boats. Once on their way, the strong current of the river carried them downstream far from the intended landing point. As the sun rose and dissipated the fog, the massed columns, waiting only a quarter of a mile from Jackson's line, were completely exposed to American fire. With losses steadily mounting, Pakenham had to decide whether to call off the operation or attack unsupported. Sir Edward, feeling certain of the enemy's disintegration at seeing "the stunning sight of an unyielding and undaunted British army marching relentlessly upon him," chose to advance. [25]
The Redcoats never had a chance. Under artillery fire from the start, when the attackers got within 300 yards the American riflemen opened up. At 100 yards, those with muskets began to fire. The effect was utterly devastating. Hundreds of British were mowed down before they ever got near Jackson's earthworks. Hundreds more "went to ground" and remained there until the fighting was over. The handful a brave souls that did manage to gain the American lines were either driven back, shot dead, or captured. [26]
Less than twenty-five minutes after the attack had begun, the last survivors of the battered British columns turned and bolted from the field. The rout was "total, most confused, and disgraceful." As fire from the American line slackened then stopped, a few of the attackers who had thrown themselves down in the heat of battle got up and fled, but most--nearly 500--surrendered. [27]
The flat plain over which the attackers advanced was a scene of terrific carnage. Heaps of dead and wounded covered the field. Among the fallen were a severely wounded General Keane and the body of Sir Edward Pakenham. Both were struck down while attempting to rally their shaken troops. The Medical Director of the British Army recorded 381 killed on the field; 477 dead from wounds; and 1,251 wounded and permanently disabled. The total loss, including 484 prisoners, was 2,593. American losses on the left bank were 8 killed and 13 wounded. [28]
Popular myth of their stoicism and resolve in the face of the withering fire aside, the British infantry had performed poorly. Of the four battalions that spearheaded the main attack, only the 4th Foot were veterans of Wellington's war. The 21st and 44th regiments had few battle honours, and 93rd Highland had none at all. As their officers, favorite targets of the American riflemen, fell, and losses among the rank and file mounted, discipline broke down. The 7th Light and 43rd Fusilier regiments, tough veterans of Peninsula, were held back in reserve and never engaged. [29]
In the days immediately following the battle, the shattered British army, now under the command of General Lambert, was reinforced. But Lambert knew a bad situation when he saw one. Despite Cochrane's objections, on the evening of January 18, 1815, the invader "precipitately decamped and returned to his boats." The fight for New Orleans was over. [30]
"No less unexpected than lamentable," news of the disaster reached a stunned England on March 8, 1815. How could the finest army in the world be defeated by "such cowards as the Americans?" British excuses included a lack of fascines and ladders for use in mounting the entrenchments; rain-soaked terrain that impeded movement; fatigue; American "luck"; and "the same cause which saved Baltimore, the death of a British general." [31]
But it was not a deficiency of blood in the veins--but of brains in the head--that hampered in the British chain-of-command. Lack of independent command experience, overconfidence, and judgment-clouding greed all contributed to the debacle. In the end, the opposing commanders received rewards befitting their performance. Jackson became a national hero and was elected seventh president of the United States by a grateful nation. Pakenham, to the very last blinded by pride and "the vain presumption of . . . superiority," was shipped home in a barrel of rum. [32]
[1] "Brown Bess" is the generic nickname for a variety of different British musket patterns produced from 1760 through the end of the Napoleonic Wars. The "Brown Bess" was the best quality mass-produced firearm of its era. The Lee-Enfield was the standard issue rifle for infantrymen of the Commonwealth during both world wars. A bill is a pole-arm similar to a halberd. Philip J. Haythornthwaite, The Napoleonic Source Book (London: Arms and Armour Press, 1990), pp. 74-76.
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