The Campaign for New Orleans
Sergeant John Spencer Cooper, 7th Royal Fusiliers

1814-1815

...The period of my service, viz., seven years, being within three weeks of its termination, I looked for my liberation every day. According to my wises, the order to discharge all the seven years men arrived, and the documents were written forthwith.

But before the order was carried into execution, another came for our regiment to embark immediately on a secret expedition. Accordingly, we were hurried on board a transport, and sailed to Plymouth, 5th October, 1814.

On entering the boat at Portsmouth, I gave an old comrade half a-crown to buy me some bread, etc., but the rascal never came back.

We anchored in the Sound almost alongside the CHESAPEAKE frigate which had been taken some time before from the Americans by the SHANNON frigate.

The wind not being fair we remained at anchor till the 25th of October.

The clerks having made out our discharges, nothing was wanted to set us free but the Colonel's signature. Unfortunately, he was ashore. We were all on tiptoe to start for home. Then we saw boat-loads of discharged men, belonging to the 43rd regiment, leaving the ships near us, and going on shore. In one of them was my brother, with his discharge in his pocket. He came alongside, and called out, "Come, are you ready for Barnard Castle?" I replied, "I only want my paper, but the Colonel is on shore. As soon as I get it, I will join you." "Well," said he, "I will wait for you." The boat then proceeded towards Plymouth.

In a few minutes after, the wind, which had been unfavourable for a fortnight, changed. Up went a Blue Peter, as the sailors call it, to the mast head of our convoy, the Vengeur, a seventy-four, as a signal for immediate putting to sea. Anchor up, and away we sailed along the coast of Cornwall. I hoped that Cork would be our destination, but when off the Lizard, I found our course was much too southerly for that.

Next morning, I looked at the compass, and saw that our course was South by West. I did not fancy that. I had hoped that if the fleet put into Cork, we would get our discharges there.

In the very worst humour, we sailed past Gibraltar and Madeira. Between these two places, a heavy gale gave us a good taste of sea sickness. Perhaps a word or two respecting what those experience who "go down to the sea in ships, and do business in great waters," may not be out of place here.

When passing through the Bay of Biscay in 1809, the wind blew roughly, and raised a heavy sea in that notorious part of the ocean. Never having seen the sea in such mighty commotion before, I was frequently afraid, when the vessel sank into a deep trough between towering mountainous waves, that we should be engulfed and go to the bottom; and when she rose to the crest of one of them that our next plunge would be the last. I have passed through the Bay four times, but never saw it so rough as at our first crossing.

But it is in mid ocean that the scene in a storm is on a grander scale. To windward rises a mountainous ridge of water, and comes onward, threatening to bury in its bosom all that lies in its way. The wind and sea join in one mighty roar. The ship is struck by gigantic waves again and again with terrific force, and heeled half over. The wind whistles horribly in the rigging; the masts creak and bend; the ship groans under the terrible pressure as in an agony. Sometimes a mighty wave strikes her sides or bows, mounts over her bulwarks, and rushes along the deck, carrying away every loose thing from stem to stern.

In the vicinity of the Tropic of Cancer, we saw many strange fish, such as dolphins, flying fish, porpoises, etc., etc. One of the sailors struck a dolphin with a harpoon, but it immediately gave itself a jerk, broke the shaft of the implement, and cut with half of it sticking in its back. A huge grampus also gambolled round the vessel.

November 17th, we crossed the Tropic, and witnessed the strange ceremony of ducking, etc. An old seaman dressed in a whimsical manner, standing on the bow of the ship, bawled through a speaking trumpet, "What ship is that?" "Whither are you bound?" "Have you any on board who have not been in my dominions before?" etc. The captain replied to each question most submissively, saying he had several such persons on board, real green-horns. Neptune, personated by the old seaman, then came into the forecastle, was seated on a gun carriage, to which ropes being attached, he was dragged along the gangway to the quarter deck, the captain saluting his grim majesty. The long boat had been previously filled with salt water for the ducking. A bucket, and an iron hoop, instead of a razor, were also in readiness for the shaving. The bucket, or lather box, was half filled with a compund of tar, grease, and something I shall not name. The razor was about a yard long, rusty and jagged at its edges.

Then a seaman, who was not willing to pay the usual fine, viz.-half a gallon of rum, was seated on the thwarts of the boat and blindfolded. An old tar then proceeded to lather the poor fellow most outrageously, at the same time asking sundry questions, in order that he might have an opportunity of thrusting his brush into the patient's mouth. Having satisfied himself with lathering or daubing the sufferer, the barber began with the hoop to scrape off the lather and a little skin from the man's jaws.

This savage operation was finished by the barber pushing his patient backwards overhead in the boat. The soldiers looked on, but would not stand shaving. The sailors, however, ascended the rigging, and threw buckets of water upon the red jackets. To prevent quarrelling, which was beginning, orders were given that the dashing and splashing should cease. Notwithstanding, some blows were exchanged.

During our voyage we had to parade on deck in heavy marching order every Sunday morning. This was annoying in a small ship. After we crossed the Topic, every man was frequently required to drink a pint of salt water on parade. One man, an old soldier named William Crumpton, said he could not swallow it. He did not drink any, and for this disobedience he received 1650 lashes.

December 4th, we made the towering island of Dominica, and sailed through the channel which separates it from Martinique.

On the 9th we passed the island of St. Domingo. Being becalmed, soundings were taken, and the depth found was 184 fathoms. Some of the transports, attempting to go ahead of our convoy, were fired at with ball.

On the 10th we lay to off Port Royal, the capital of Jamaica, until the Statira frigate joined the fleet. She had Sir Edward Pakenham, the Commander-in-Chief of our expedition, on board. This vessel was soon after wrecked between Cuba and Jamaica. We passed Cape S. Antonio, the westernmost point of the island of Cuba. After this we had a stiff breeze from the N.W. accompanied with heavy fog. Being on deck between six and seven a.m., I counted sixteen or seventeen water spouts a few miles off.

On the 31st we made the mouth of the Mississippi. The land here is very low, and the sea not more than four fathoms.

The fog still continuing, we cruised for several days in search of the fleet. At last we discovered it, near Cat Island, where we anchored. Several regiments had landed, and been engaged in the night time with the Americans. They stole upon the English on their hands and knees, in Indian fashion, and penetrated the very camp; but they were driven out in quick time. This encounter took place several days before we arrived.

The day after we joined the fleet, we were conveyed in small craft to the main land. One of our boats, containing sixteen privates and a sergeant, was swamped, and all but one were drowned.

After landing, we marched towards New Orleans, each man carrying a cannon ball in his haversack, as we had no baggage animals. Now two balls would have been more easily carried than one, because they would have poised each other.

'Tis said "Delays are dangerous." So we proved it. The troops that had preceded us had been on shore about three weeks; but not being strong enough to meet the enemy, they had not advanced far from the sea.

As the fleet could not approach within about forty miles of the position, all the artillery, ammunition, and provisions, etc., had to be brought to us in boats. While all went on so tardily, the Americans were cutting trenches, mounting cannon, etc., across a narrow plain, which had the mighty Mississippi on the right, and a marshy dense wood on the left. A frigate also was posted on the river in such a situation that it could rake the whole line. Batteries were also planted on the right or farther bank of the river.

The force which the Americans had to defend this narrow front was said to be about 14,000. A deep wide ditch, in front of high breastworks, ran along the whole line of defence. Our whole force for attacking this formidable work, did not exceed 7,000 including several hundred sailors sent from the fleet.

The front of our position was perfectly flat, on which three small guns were planted; but these were of little use, being only six pounders.

On the day before the battle, I, with three or four more, was selected to join my old comrades in the Light Company, from which I had been transferred when made sergeant; but the captain would not let me go back. This probably saved my life, for the Light Company, with a company of the 43rd, and one of the 85th, stormed the right redoubt next day, and would have established themselves there, had they been supported.

The same evening, hearing that we were to storm the enemy's works in the morning, several of us went to the colonel's tent, and reminded him that we should have been discharged at Portsmouth and sent home, according to orders from the Duke of York, then Commander-in-Chief. He said it could not be helped. This did not satisfy us, so we hurried to Head Quarters, to speak to Sir Edward Pakenham, but he was out viewing the enemy's defences.

Early in the morning of January 8th, 1815, we were assembled within cannon shot of the American entrenchments, as the reserve or second line. This was certainly a grand mistake, for the troops in front were composed of two black West India regiments, and other corps that had not been employed in sieges, etc., as we had in Spain.

Just as the day was breaking, a rocket whizzed aloft. All stood ready for the assault. At the word "Forward!" the two lines approached the ditch under a murderous discharge of musketry; but crossing the ditch and scaling the parapet were found impossible without ladders. These had been prepared, but the regiment that should have carried them left them behind, and thereby caused, in a few minutes, a dreadful loss of men and officers; while the enemy suffered little, being ensconced behind the parapet. The front line now fell into great confusion, and retreated behind us, leaving numerous killed and wounded. We then advanced to within musket shot; but the balls flew so thickly that we were ordered to lie down to avoid the shower.

In the meantime our Light Company, and the two companies before mentioned, had gained a footing on the right of the American works; but having no support at hand, the enemy returned in force, and drove them into the ditch, where they were exposed to a plunging fire from above, and a flank fire from the frigate. One of the officers in the ditch vented his spleen at the enemy above by throwing stones. At last, the companies bolted from the ditch and ran off stoopingly in different directions. One of them, named Henry Axhorn, a smart young fellow, received a ball above his hip, which ran up his body, and stuck near his eye. It was extracted in a hospital at New Orleans. He joined us again after the peace, much altered in shape, and not fit for further service. Our Light Company went into this action sixty-four strong, and returned sixteen-having lost forty-eight.

That part of our force which was despatched to storm the enemy's works on the other side of the river, pushed off when the rocket was fired; but being few in number, they effected nothing of importance.

On our part, just before the order was given to lie down, my right hand man received a bullet in his forehead, and fell dead across my feet. This man was drunk the night before, and cursing the seven years' men for wishing to be discharged. Poor Fitzpatrick had been considered an honest man; but his knapsack, when opened, showed him to have been a sly thief.

Another man, about ten or twelve files on my right, was smashed to pieces by a cannon ball. I felt something strike my cap; I took it off, and found sticking to it a portion of his brains, about the size of a marble. A young man on my left got a wound on the top of his head, and ran to the surgeon behind us; he was dressed and sent into his place again. Close to him, another man had his arm so badly fractured near the shoulder that it was taken out of the cup. A few yards behind sat a black man, with all the lower part of his face shot away; his eyes were gone, and the bones of his brow all jagged, and dripping blood. Near him, in a ditch, lay one of the 43rd, trying to hold in his bowels.

The enemy kept pounding away at us all day; during which a shower of grape came whizzing like a flock of partridges, and struck Major King dead.

We lay on the ground under the enemy's fire until dusk, when we retired four or five hundred yards, and took up our quarters in some huts made of sugar canes. Here, without a single breastwork, battery, or ditch, we remained ten days; while the enemy threw shot and shell into our lines day and night. However, they took care not to leave their works.

The day after the battle, a truce for six hours being agreed upon, a party of us was sent to bury the dead. In this sad duty, the Americans brought ours to a ditch between our lines and theirs, and laid the bodies in rows. We then took them and threw them into ditches. While this was being done, an American officer strutted about, sword in hand, on his side of the ditch, to our great amusement. An American soldier, looking at the long rows of the slain, exclaimed, "I never saw the like of that!" One of our party sneeringly said. "That's nowt, man; if you'd been wi' us in Spain, you would ha' seen summat far war!"

While removing the bodies, I stripped two poor fellows of their shirts; they were bloody enough, but I wanted them sadly.

The funeral being over, and the truce having expired, we retired to our huts in haste, and then the game of cannonading began again.

The Americans were highly elated at having beaten the Britishers, and I believe they boast of it to this day. But all things considered, they had little reason. Let us recapitulate-they were in number about 14,000, behind strong breast works, and a deep ditch; a frigate protected their right flank, a wood and morass their left. Cannon were plentiful all along their front.

Our force numbered about 7,000, including perhaps 1,000 sailors. We had no works, no ditch, and only three small guns. Shelter we had none, for the ground in front of the enemy's works for about a mile was as flat as a bowling green.

Of the 1,200 that should have crossed the river, no more than three or four hundred could be supplied with boats. But the chief cause of our failure was the want of ladders, which a certain regiment should have carried, but did not. Had Wellington been there, the Americans would have had less to boast of. Why did not the redoubtable General Jackson, when we were reduced one third, attack us? Nay, why did he not do so, when all but about 1,800 of us had embarked?

Exposed as we were to the enemy's fire, brushing and parading were continued. Getting myself ready for parade one morning, I saw a man who was doing the same, struck by a round shot. Another, lying in his hut, had both his legs shot off. One day I had occasion to fetch water from a ditch in front of our lines; seeing a smoke rise from the enemy's batteries, I perceived a ball coming straight at me. To avoid it, I fell flat. However, it struck in boggy ground just before me, and sank. A shell fell one night within three feet of the hut in which four of us slept; it burst, made a large hole, but did no harm. I never heard the explosion. Another of these ugly customers passed over us, dropped upon a man's knapsack, and drove it several feet down in the soft earth.

Being on picquet about a quarter of a mile in front, we were alarmed one day by the rattling of musketry on our right. Not seeing any enemy, our officer asked three of us to go with him into the thick wood to reconnoitre. After wading mid-leg deep in water among stumps and tangled fallen trees, we found it next to impossible to proceed, and therefore gave up the enterprise. Our picquet post was a narrow mound of earth, about twenty paces long by two and a half broad, with water on both sides. By continued trampling this wet spot became a puddle. No fire could be lighted, lest we should draw the enemy's shot upon us. Having no alternative, I broke small branches from the bushes, and lay down in the mire. My stockings and shoes being wet, sleep I could not for shivering. Several of our men deserted while we remained in our lines.

Our situation now grew more critical every day, for nearly all the troops encamped behind us had embarked; the 40th regiment and ours alone remained.

On the evening of the 18th, the order to retreat came, and we began to move after darkness set in, leaving the picquets at their respective posts. The road we took had never before been trodden by man, and it was both difficult and dangerous. To construct it, small parties had been employed in treading down the tall reeds or canes that grew on the edge of a deep creek. These being twelve or fourteen feet in length overlapped each other when trodden down, and so formed a kind of basket road. This strange path, being underlaid by a stratum of rotten bog, was deceitful; and the night being dark, no one could see where to step. One officer slipped through this bending, swinging path, and sank to his armpits. A canteen strap put under those parts served to hoist him out of his dilemma. A bugler of the 95th Rifles sank overhead and was lost. I had a taste of the same, but only with one leg; the other stood on firmer stuff.

We marched in this way till near daybreak, when we were completely stopped by a wide, deep bog, like a cesspool. Till the foremost got over, we lay down till daylight among the wet grass. In this horrible swamp three or four poor fellows were sticking up to their middles. They were still sinking, and would have perished, when a boat having Admirals Malcolm and Cochrane on board, came down the creek. The boat stopped, and some sailors with shovels cut the prisoners out.

I made a short circuit, and got safely over, by stepping on the roots of some large plants that grew there. Just beyond the bog lay a splendid dead alligator, twelve or fourteen feet long. At length we reached the sea side, and encamped. Not a shot had been fired at our rearguard during the retreat.

About three days after this, we embarked on board the Fox frigate. Here several boats came alongside, full of women belonging to the 93rd regiment, seeking their husbands; but as that corps had lost five or six hundred men on the 8th, many of these poor creatures would seek in vain.

We sailed the same day, but the old Fox ran aground, and stuck fast on a sand bank. Leaving the planks of the Fox, we were conveyed in small craft to Dauphin Island.

In this short passage, a young Swedish sailor slipped over the bow of the vessel into the sea. We looked for him astern but he never rose.

Having landed, we constructed huts. This island is nothing more than a great sand bank about twenty miles long, by one and a half broad. There was only one house upon it, and perhaps the reason it is not more inhabited is its want of fresh water. We made holes in the sand, which soon filled; but the water was brackish.

From this place troops were sent to take Fort Boyer, near Mobile. This was soon done, and our men returned, bringing the starred and striped colours of the 2nd Yankee regiment.

Next day a frigate arrived with the news that peace had been concluded between England and the United States. Had the ship conveying this information arrived sooner, the battle of New Orleans would not have been fought. Hearing this, the surviving seven years men, including myself, became impatient to be sent home; instead of which, we were ordered to construct a theatre. One was presently built of the branches of trees; scenes and dresses wee improvised, and plays were acted; both officers and men taking part.

John Spencer Cooper. Rough Notes of Seven Campaigns in Portugal, Spain, France and America During the Years 1809-10-11-12-13-14-15. (Carlisle: 1914)