Read Online Patrick Henry and the Frigate’s Keel: And Other Stories of a Young Nation by Howard Fast - Free Book Online

ripe language put an end to that. “I’ll hang him to the highest oak in the city,” Jackson said.
    Livingston subsequently repeated that to Laffite, word for word, and Laffite’s only comment was, “What does the general want done?”
    â€œThe waterways blocked.”
    â€œThey will be blocked,” Laffite said.
    And so they were. Dominique You led a hundred of Laffite’s men up to Jackson’s headquarters, where they volunteered for service in the swamp. Did they know the swamp? They said, yes, they had some little knowledge of the swamp. Of course, every Creole present recognized them for what they were, but if the Americans were so stupid, that was the Americans’ affair. The pirates blocked the swamp. The pirates volunteered for service in the few small gunboats Jackson had. And a week later, Jackson issued a handbill for the arrest of Jean and Pierre Laffite.
    Of course, every Creole in New Orleans knew Jean Laffite, and of course no one claimed the reward money that Jackson offered, any more than they had claimed the reward money Governor Claiborne had offered. By this time, the little French town which had so recently come under the jurisdiction of the United States was boiling. Five hundred red-sashed, cutlassed Baratarians owed allegiance to Jean Laffite, and everyone knew they fought like devils, and here was the Yankee madman, Jackson, posting handbills for their arrest instead of making a deal with them.
    Well, Jackson had his conception of law and order, as was only fitting in a man who later became President of the United States, but he also had something more than that. He had a sense of values, of forces. That is why, when a man showed up at his headquarters, was ushered into his office, and announced, “I am Jean Laffite,” he did not immediately have him taken out and shot. No; instead, he eyed the man keenly, nodded at him, and said to him:
    â€œSit down and talk. You have fifteen minutes. Then I will order your trial by military court for the following crimes—piracy, larceny, abduction, murder, and conniving with the enemy. On any single count, you can be sentenced to death.”
    They will tell you, down there, that on some of those counts Jean was guilty, but on others as innocent as a newborn babe. It is true, he was a pirate; not since the time of Henry Morgan had there been a pirate on so grand a scale; he elevated the profession, they will tell you. But murder—hardly. They will also impress on you that this Jackson was a hard man; look at the words that followed. The histories ignore the words, as they always do. All the histories say is that Jean Laffite spoke to Jackson for fifteen minutes and convinced him that the Baratarians could be of service—and Jackson accepted; just like that!
    â€œIt is true,” Laffite began, “I am pirate. Circumstances make me pirate. Circumstances make you general.”
    â€œI don’t grant the comparison,” Jackson said.
    â€œNaturally. Everyone say, what for that damn fool Laffite insist on helping American? Cost me maybe half million dollar already. Cost me very nice business down in Barataria.”
    â€œTo save your neck,” Jackson said.
    â€œSo? But British also want to save my neck. They make not one deal, but five. Jean—you can have this, or this, or this, or that. Sacred name of God, do I say I am not thief? Pirate? Large businessman in smuggled goods? All very true. But I tell you, Laffite is finished. Whoever win, the profession is no good now. So I talk a little bit about liberty and the rights of man.”
    â€œTalk quickly,” Jackson said.
    â€œWhen I am small child, I see the Bastille stormed. The citizens take up arms and go to die, and even as very small child, I wonder why. I hear about your Valley Forge, and I wonder why. I watch Napoleon—by God, that’s one bad man, even if I got maybe his best gunners in my