the Florida coast, from which they
could menace Georgia on the one side and New Orleans on the other. Spain
was the ally of England in Europe, but in the American War she professed
neutrality. As, however, she made no effort to prevent England using a
Spanish port as a base of operations, she could not justly complain when
Jackson seized the neighbouring port of Mobile, from which he marched
against the British and dislodged them. But the hardest and most
glorious part of his task was to come. The next blow was aimed at New
Orleans itself. Jackson hastened to its defence. The British landed in
great force at the mouth of the Mississippi and attacked the city from
both sides. Jackson's little army was greatly outnumbered, but the skill
with which he planned the defence and the spirit which he infused into
his soldiers (the British themselves said that Jackson's men seemed of a
different stuff from all other American troops they had encountered)
prevailed against heavy odds. Three times Jackson's lines were attacked:
in one place they were nearly carried, but his energy just repaired the
disaster. At length the British retired with heavy losses and took to
their ships. New Orleans was saved.

Before this last and most brilliant of American victories had been
fought and won, peace had been signed at Ghent. News travelled slowly
across the Atlantic, and neither British nor American commanders knew of
it for months later. But early in the year negotiations had been opened,
and before Christmas they reached a conclusion. Great Britain was more
weary of the war than her antagonist. If she had gone on she might have
won a complete victory, or might have seen fortune turn decisively
against her. She had no wish to try the alternative. Napoleon had
abdicated at Fontainebleau, and been despatched to Elba, and there were
many who urged that the victorious army of the Peninsula under
Wellington himself should be sent across the Atlantic to dictate terms.
But England was not in the mood for more fighting. After twenty years of
incessant war she saw at last the hope of peace. She saw also that the
capture of Washington had not, as had been hoped, put an end to American
resistance, but had rather put new life into it. To go on meant to
attempt again the gigantic task which she had let drop as much from
weariness as from defeat a generation before. She preferred to cry
quits. The Peace, which was signed on behalf of a Republic by Clay--