When all was ready, Coffee signified the fact to Jackson by means which had been agreed upon between them, and the commander advanced his line to give the enemy battle. The artillery under Captain Bradford was advanced to a point within eighty yards of the breastwork, with the hope that its fire at short range might make a breach in the formidable line of fortification. The position was a fearfully exposed one for the cannoniers, but they were gallant fellows, under command of a brave officer, and they held their ground manfully under a most galling fire, bombarding the works ceaselessly. The riflemen added their fire to that of the artillery, not because it was likely to have any effect upon the thick breastworks, but because its maintenance would prevent the concentration of the enemy"s fire upon the artillery.
The cannon-shot plunged into the fortification at every discharge; but the parapet was too thick to be penetrated, and except when a missile chanced to pa.s.s through a port-hole, the artillery fire accomplished very little beyond making the Creeks yell a little more fiercely than usual in their exultation over the ineffectiveness of the means employed for their destruction.
Meantime Coffee could not contentedly stand still while all this work was going on just in his front. Like Ivanhoe in the castle, he chafed at his compulsory inaction while others were doing "deeds of derring-do."
In the absence of any thing else to be about, he conceived the notion of capturing the enemy"s fleet, and ordered the best swimmers in his command to cross the river and bring away the canoes. Having thus secured the means of transporting men to the other side, he could not resist the temptation to make an attack in the enemy"s rear. If he might have spared enough men for the purpose and led them in person, Coffee would have brought the battle to an early close by this means, saving a deal of bloodshed; but his orders were to maintain a line all along the sh.o.r.e, and to resist the approach of reinforcements from below. He could neither detach a strong force for the attack in rear nor leave his appointed post to lead them in person. But he could at least make a diversion in Jackson"s favor, and this he proceeded to do. He sent Morgan across in the canoes, with as many men as could be withdrawn with propriety from the line, ordering him to set fire to the houses by the river-bank and then to advance and attack the savages behind the breastwork.
Morgan executed this order in fine style, and although his force was too small to enable him to maintain his attack for any considerable time, the movement was of great a.s.sistance to Jackson. The burning buildings and the crack of Morgan"s rifles indicated to Jackson what his active and sagacious lieutenant was doing, and he resolved to seize the opportunity, while the Creeks were somewhat embarra.s.sed by the fire in their rear, to make the direct a.s.sault upon the works which it was now evident must be made before any thing effective could be done.
To storm such a work was sure to be a costly way of winning, even if it should succeed, while if it should fail, its failure would mean the utter destruction of the army attempting it. The general hesitated to make so hazardous an attempt, but the men clamored to be led to the charge. It was the only way, and the army was evidently in the best possible temper for the doing of desperate deeds.
Jackson gave the order to storm the works.
Then was seen the grandest, awfullest thing which war has to show. The long line of men, pressing closely together, advanced with quick, cadenced step, every man knowing that great rents would be made in that line at every second, and none knowing what his own fate might be.
Without wavering, but with compressed lips, the Tennesseeans, in line with Colonel Williams"s regulars, rushed upon the breastwork, which flashed fire and poured death among them as they came. Pushing the muzzles of their rifles into the port-holes they delivered their fire, and then clambered up the side of the works, fighting hand to hand with the savages, who battled to beat them back. The first man upon the parapet, Major Montgomery, stood erect but a single second, when he fell dead with a bullet in his brain. His men were close at his heels, and surged like a tide up the slope, pouring in a torrent over the works and into the camp. The breastwork was carried, and in ordinary circ.u.mstances the battle would have ended almost immediately in the enemy"s surrender; but this enemy had no thought of surrendering. The consequences of a blunder committed so long before as the 18th of November were felt here.
General White"s attack upon the Hillabees when they had submitted and asked for peace had taught these men to expect nothing but cruellest treachery at the hands of Jackson, whom they confidently believed to be the author of that most unfortunate occurrence. Having no faith in his word, the Creeks believed that he and his men offered quarter only to save themselves the work of killing warriors who could yet fight. They believed that to surrender was only to spare their enemies, who, as soon as the prisoners could be disarmed, would butcher them in cold blood, paying no recompense in the death of any of their own number. Convinced of this, the men at the Horse Shoe simply refused to be taken prisoners, either in a body or singly; they would yield only to death, not to their enemies. They fought for every inch of ground. Wounds were nothing to them, as long as they could level a gun or hurl a tomahawk. Jackson"s men had to drive them slowly back, dislodging them from brush heaps and felled trees, and suffering considerable loss in doing so. They had carried the works, but had not yet conquered the defenders of the place.
To do that they had simply to butcher them.
It was horrible work, but it must be done. Brave men revolted from it, but whenever one of them sought to spare even a badly-wounded enemy his reward was a bullet, or a blow from the fallen but still defiant warrior"s club.
Little by little the savages were driven to the river bank, where the remnant of them made a last stand under strong cover, from which even a well-directed artillery fire at short range failed to dislodge them.
They were driven out at last only by the burning of the heap of timber in and behind which they had taken refuge. When their situation was most desperate, Jackson made a last effort to spare them. Sending a friendly Indian forward, he a.s.sured them of his disposition to save them alive if they would surrender, but they answered only by firing upon the messenger and riddling his body with bullets. When at last they were driven out by the flames they were shot down like wild beasts.
Night finally came to stop the slaughter of hiding warriors, but it was renewed in the morning, sixteen warriors being found then concealed in the underbrush. They refused even then to surrender, and were slain.
It was in this battle that Samuel Houston, afterward the president of the Republic of Texas, and still later a Senator in the Congress of the United States, first distinguished himself by his valor, and fell so severely wounded that his recovery was always thought to be little less than miraculous.
When the battle was ended five hundred and fifty-seven dead warriors were found upon the field, but even this was by no means the total number of the slain. Many of them had tried to escape by swimming, and for a long time Coffee"s men were busy shooting them in the water, where when killed they sank out of sight.
Mr. Pickett tells us that one brave old chief, Manowa, escaped in an ingenious and wonderful way, after being literally shot to pieces. "He fought as long as he could. He saved himself by jumping into the river where the water was four feet deep. He held to a root and thus kept himself beneath the waves, breathing through the long joint of a cane, one end of which he held in his mouth, while the other end came above the surface of the water. When night set in the brave Manowa rose from his watery bed and made his way to the forest bleeding from many wounds."
Mr. Pickett conversed with Manowa many years after the war, and heard the story of his escape from his own lips.
Jackson"s loss was thirty-two white men and twenty-three friendly Indians killed, ninety-nine white men and forty-seven friendly Indians wounded.
CHAPTER x.x.xII.
RED EAGLE"S SURRENDER.
The power of the Creek Nation was crushed at the battle of Tohopeka. The force which fought so desperately there represented not all, but by far the larger part, of what was left of the fighting force of the nation, and they were so utterly beaten that there was nothing to encourage an effort to a.s.semble the scattered warriors again for a struggle. The slight cohesion which tribes of Indians have was gone, and Jackson knew very well that no more severe battles need be fought if the present one was properly followed up with measures designed to convince the Creeks of the uselessness of further resistance. He prepared, therefore, to establish his army in the heart of the Creek Nation, to overawe whatever bands might remain, to strike at roving parties, and to reduce the tribes to submission and peacefulness.
Sinking the bodies of his dead in the river, instead of burying them, he withdrew with his army to Fort Williams, the place he had established and garrisoned as his supply depot, for the double purpose of putting his wounded men into hospital and of replenishing his supply of food, for he had carried nothing with him beyond Fort Williams except one week"s provisions in the men"s haversacks.
After a tedious march lasting five days, Jackson rested his worn-out men at Fort Williams, and there wrote the following address, which was ordered to be read to the army:
"You have ent.i.tled yourselves to the grat.i.tude of your country and your general. The expedition from which you have just returned has, by your good conduct, been rendered prosperous beyond any example in the history of our warfare; it has redeemed the character of your State, and of that description of troops of which the greater part of you are.
"You have, within a few days, opened your way to the Tallapoosa, and destroyed a confederacy of the enemy, ferocious by nature and who had grown insolent from impunity. Relying on their numbers, the security of their situation, and the a.s.surances of their prophets, they derided our approach, and already exulted in antic.i.p.ation of the victory they expected to obtain. But they were ignorant of the influence and effect of government on the human powers, nor knew what brave men and civilized could effect. By their yells they hoped to frighten us, and with their wooden fortifications to oppose us. Stupid mortals! Their yells but designated their situation the more certainly, while their walls became a snare for their own destruction. So will it ever be when presumption and ignorance contend against bravery and prudence.
"The fiends of the Tallapoosa will no longer murder our women and children, or disturb the quiet of our borders. Their midnight flambeaux will no more illumine their council-house or shine upon the victim of their infernal orgies. In their places a new generation will arise who will know their duty better. The weapons of warfare will be exchanged for the utensils of husbandry; and the wilderness, which now withers in sterility and mourns the desolation which overspreads her, will blossom as the rose and become the nursery of the arts. But before this happy day can arrive other chastis.e.m.e.nts remain to be inflicted. It is indeed lamentable that the path to peace should lead through blood and over the bodies of the slain; but it is a dispensation of Providence, and perhaps a wise one, to inflict partial evils, that ultimate good may be produced.
"Our enemies are not sufficiently humbled; they do not sue for peace. A collection of them await our approach, and remain to be dispersed.
Buried in ignorance, and seduced by the false pretences of their prophets, they have the weakness to believe they will still be able to make a decided stand against us. They must be undeceived, and made to atone their obstinacy and their crimes by still further suffering. Those hopes which have so long deluded them must be driven from their last refuge. They must be made to know that their prophets are impostors, and that our strength is mighty and will prevail. Then, and not till then, may we expect to make with them a peace that shall be permanent."
Ten days after the battle of the Horse Shoe the army again advanced, the men carrying provisions in their haversacks as before. A long march brought them to the confluence of the Coosa and Tallapoosa rivers, where a junction with the southern army was effected and supplies were abundant.
There Jackson established his camp and fortified it. The force of Creeks which he had expected to strike had dispersed, and there was now nowhere a body of Indians for him to march against or fight. His presence with a strong army, well supplied with food and able to maintain itself there in the very heart of the nation, did the rest. Seeing the utter hopelessness of contending further with such an army so commanded, and hearing through friendly Indians, who were sent out for the purpose, that Jackson wished to make peace, the savages rapidly flocked to his camp and surrendered themselves.
Peter McQueen, Josiah Francis, and several other chiefs fled to Florida, but the greater number of the Creek leaders preferred to sue for Jackson"s clemency.
To them Jackson replied that he had no further desire to make war, but that peace would not be granted to the nation until Red Eagle--or Weatherford, for by that name only the whites called the Creek commander--should be brought to him bound hand and foot. It was his purpose to hang Red Eagle as a punishment for the ma.s.sacre of women and children at Fort Mims, he knowing nothing, of course, of the warrior"s daring efforts to prevent that b.l.o.o.d.y butchery, and to make of the affair a battle, not a ma.s.sacre.
News of Jackson"s determination was carried to Red Eagle, and he was warned to fly the country and make his escape to Florida, as many of his companion chiefs had done. There, of course, he would have been safe beyond the jurisdiction of Jackson and of the government which Jackson represented; but Red Eagle was a patriot, and when he was told that the fierce commander of the whites would give no terms to the Creeks under which the women and children now starving in the woods could be saved, except upon his surrender, that the price of peace for his people was his own ignominious death--he calmly resolved to give himself to suffer for his race, to purchase with his blood that peace which alone could save his people from destruction.
Mounting his famous gray horse--the one which had carried him over the bluff at the Holy Ground, he rode away alone toward Jackson"s camp.
The author of that history of Alabama which has been quoted frequently in these pages gives the following account of what followed, drawn, he a.s.sures us, from Red Eagle"s own narrative in conversations had with him:
"He rode within a few miles of Fort Jackson, when a fine deer crossed his path and stopped within shooting distance, which he fired at and killed. Reloading his rifle with two b.a.l.l.s, for the purpose of shooting the Big Warrior, should he give him any cause, at the fort, he placed the deer behind his saddle and advanced to the American outposts. Some soldiers, of whom he politely inquired for Jackson"s whereabouts, gave him some unsatisfactory and rude replies, when a gray-headed man a few steps beyond pointed him to the marquee. Weatherford rode up to it and checked his horse immediately at the entrance, where sat the Big Warrior, who exultingly exclaimed:
""Ah! Bill Weatherford, have we got you at last?""
"The fearless chieftain cast his keen eyes at the Big Warrior, and said in a determined tone:
""You ---- traitor, if you give me any insolence I will blow a ball through your cowardly heart."
"General Jackson now came running out of the marquee with Colonel Hawkins, and in a furious manner exclaimed:
""How dare you, sir, to ride up to my tent after having murdered the women and children at Fort Mims?"
"Weatherford said:
""General Jackson, I am not afraid of you. I fear no man, for I am a Creek warrior. I have nothing to request in behalf of myself; you can kill me if you desire. But I come to beg you to send for the women and children of the war party, who are now starving in the woods. Their fields and cribs have been destroyed by your people, who have driven them to the woods without an ear of corn. I hope that you will send out parties who will safely conduct them here, in order that they may be fed. I exerted myself in vain to prevent the ma.s.sacre of the women and children at Fort Mims. I am now done fighting. The Red Sticks are nearly all killed. If I could fight you any longer I would most heartily do so.
Send for the women and children. They never did you any harm. But kill me, if the white people want it done."
"At the conclusion of these words many persons who had surrounded the marquee exclaimed:
""Kill him! kill him! kill him!"
"General Jackson commanded silence, and in an emphatic manner said:
""Any man who would kill as brave a man as this would rob the dead!"
"He then invited Weatherford to alight, drank a gla.s.s of brandy with him, and entered into a cheerful conversation under his hospitable marquee. Weatherford gave him the deer, and they were then good friends."