I used to ride along Ferret Street all the way down to Canal, sometimes into East New Orleans over the intercoastal waters or sometimes went over and parked it around Jackson Square, near St. Louis Cathedral. Once I took it into the Wildlife Gardens around Lake Borgue with its water views and benches, where Andrew Jackson and his ragtag army of pirates, Choctaws, free blacks, lawyers and merchants militia defeated Britain's finest, sent them back out to sea for good. Britain was supposed to have ten thousand troops and Jackson about four, but he overcame them anyway, so the history books say. Jackson said that he'd burn New Orleans to the ground before he'd surrender it. Jackson, Old Hickory, Master of Bloody Deeds -- tall and rawboned, blue eyes and bushy gray hair, cantankerous, a backwoodsman, opposed the Bank of the United States. At least he didn't drop bombs killing civilians and innocent children for the glory of his nations' honor. He wouldn't be going to hell for that.
-- Bob Dylan, Chronicles, 2004