And then the Aarons gave it up. One of them, Gallatin, wrote home from England: “The war is popular here, and that their national pride, inflated by their last unexpected success, cannot be satisfied without what they call the chastisement of America, cannot be doubted. They do not even suspect that we have any just cause of complaint, and consider us altogether the aggressor and the allies of Bonaparte.” [Illustration: Lake Tensaw, Ala. Known as the old Boatyard Lake. It was here that Aaron Burr was landed as he was being conveyed from Washington to Fort Stoddard, and near where the horrible massacre of Fort Mims occurred.] Here is a sample of their contempt and billingsgate from the London Sun, one of England’s great papers, of September 3, 1814: “The American army of copper captains and Falstaff recruits defy the pen of satire to paint them worse than they are—worthless, lying, treacherous, slanderous, cowardly and vaporing heroes, with boastings in their loud tongues and terror in their quaking hearts. Were it not that the course of punishment they are undergoing is necessary to the ends of moral and religious justice, we declare before our country that we should feel ashamed of victory over such ignoble foes. The quarrel resembles one between a gentleman and a chimney sweeper—the former may beat the low scoundrel to his heart’s contentment, but there is no honor in the exploit, and he is sure to be covered with the soil and dirt of his ignominious antagonist. But necessity will sometimes compel us to descend from our station to chastise a vagabond, and endure the disgrace of a contest in order to repress, by wholesome correction, the presumptuous insolence and mischievous designs of the basest assailant.” And the Times—the so-called thunderer—speaking of President Madison: “This fellow, notorious for lying, for imposture of all kind, for his barbarous warfare both in Canada and against the Creek Indians, for everything, in short, that can debase and degrade a government.” When word came to Lord Castlereagh of the capture of Washington and the King of France said he doubted the truth of it, Castlereagh said: “It is true beyond all question, and I expect that by now most of the large seaport towns of America are laid in ashes, that we are in possession of New Orleans and have command of all the waters of the Mississippi and lakes. So that the Americans are now but little better than prisoners at large in their own country.” And that is exactly what might have happened but for one backwoods Moses. And this Moses—it is ludicrous, even in its tragedy, to think what he was doing when the event happened that first started him in his fame-crowned career.