al John Coffee of Alabama, who had
formerly been his business partner. Major Lemuel P. Montgomery, a
Virginian of Tennessee, commanded one battalion of the regulars. He
was six feet two inches, aged twenty-eight, and "the finest looking man
in the army." Young Sam Houston, who became the hero of Texas
independence, was a third lieutenant. Head Chief William Macintosh,
Menewa's rival, led the Creeks. Chief Richard Brown led the Cherokees.

In the evening of March 26 bold General Jackson viewed the Red Sticks'
fort, and found it very strong. He was amazed by the skill with which
it had been laid out. No trained military engineers could have done
better.

But his Indian spies saw everything--they saw the line of canoes drawn
up in the brush along the river bank behind, at the base of the bend;
and General Jackson decided to do what the Red Sticks had not expected
him to do.

Early in the next morning, March 27, he detached General Coffee, with
seven hundred mounted men, the five hundred Cherokees and the one
hundred Creeks, to make a circuit, cross the river below the bend, and
come up on the opposite side, behind the Horseshoe. This would cut off
escape in canoes.

With the remainder of his soldiers he advanced to the direct attack
upon the breast-works. He planted his two cannon. At ten o'clock he
opened hot fire with the camion and with muskets.

Chief Menewa's Red Sticks were ready and defiant. They answered with
whoops and bullets. Their three prophets, horridly adorned with bird
crests and feathers and jingling charms, danced and sang, to bring the
cloud. The balls from the cannon only sank into the damp pine logs,
and did no damage. The musket balls stopped short or hissed uselessly
over.

For two hours Old Mad Jackson attacked, from a distance. He had not
dared to charge--the prophets danced faster, they chanted higher--the
Red Sticks had been little harmed--they whooped gaily--they had faith
in their Holy Ground.

But suddenly there arose behind them a fresh hubbub of shots and
shouts, and the screams of their women and children; the smoke of their
burning huts welled above the tree-tops. General Coffee, with his
mounted men, had completely surrounded the bend, on the opposite side
of the river; his Indians had swum across, had seized the canoes, had
ferried their comrades over by the hundred, the soldiers were
following--and now the Menewa warriors were between two fires.

At the instan