Patriotic Fire by Winston Groom Page A

men killed and about 80 wounded.
    So far the campaign was going well except for the food situation. The men were down to eating a few biscuits, and “for several days General Jackson and his military family subsisted on tripe, without bread or seasoning.” When that ran out, they began dining on acorns, a meal that has become legendary in accounts of Jackson’s career. As the story goes, when several officers came to Jackson’s headquarters on behalf of their men to complain about the lack of food, the general had laid out before them an elegant table, complete with fine china, linens, and silver water goblets, and he invited them to dine with him. When the astonished men had been seated, Jackson’s orderly brought out a large silver platter piled high with acorns, whereupon Jackson solemnly pronounced words to this effect: “Here, gentlemen, you can see before you that we have no crisis. This country is filled with a wonderful bounty of natural food.”
    Before it got better, it got worse. The Tennessee militia mutinied over the lack of rations and tried to march back toward Nashville; Jackson halted them with his volunteers. Then the volunteers mutinied because their one-year enlistment had run out, and Jackson stopped them with his militia. But clearly the situation had become intolerable, and as the new year of 1814 began Jackson was compelled to cease operations and recruit an entire new army, which he did, bringing in some 2,000 men, supplemented now by a U.S. Army regiment of regulars that included a young lieutenant named Sam Houston, subsequently known as the Father of Texas.
    After retiring to winter quarters, Jackson at last was able to iron out the ration and supply foul-ups and ready himself for the spring campaign, in which he aimed at striking a final, decisive blow to destroy William Weatherford and his Red Sticks. The opportunity came in March 1814 at an obscure loop on the Tallapoosa River called Horseshoe Bend.
    The Indians considered Horseshoe Bend sacred ground. The bend itself was an oblong peninsula formed by the serpentine river and consisting of about a hundred acres of brush and timber, across the neck of which the Indians had built a formidable breastwork of logs, keeping their canoes at the opposite point in case they had to escape. Eight hundred Red Sticks manned the fortification in which they had fabricated two rows of firing loopholes. It was apparent on both sides that the Red Sticks were hunkered down for a fight to the finish.
    On March 27, upon a misty dawn, Jackson had the bend surrounded, while friendly Indian scouts attached to Coffee’s cavalry swam the river and took most of the Red Sticks’ unguarded canoes. The general had placed 1,000 of his soldiers on the banks opposite the Horseshoe to prevent the Red Sticks from swimming to safety, while along the narrow neck he formed up another 1,000 for the assault on the breastwork itself. About ten a.m., his army’s small six-pounder cannon roared into action, slamming balls into the Indian breastwork, but they merely buried themselves in the soft pine planks. Creek riflemen retaliated, but so far no one much had been hurt. Then, when Jackson observed the Indians trying to remove their women and children across the river, out of harm’s way, he halted fire.
    So it went until about half past noon, when there was no more reason for delay. Then the drummers of the 39th Infantry Regiment of U.S. Army regulars began to beat out the long roll—the signal to charge. Jackson’s 1,000 infantry rushed the Indian lines, with the 39th Regiment leading the way. The first man to get atop it was Major Lemuel Montgomery, who was immediately killed by a shot to the head.*  25 Big Sam Houston was one of the next to claw his way up the rampart and, brandishing his sword, was seen to jump down into the swarm of Indian defenders, slashing away.
    For the next three hours the battle raged fierce and desperate, breaking down into dozens of separate