66 sent for him, and, on making herself known confidentially, she was driven in her carriage into the frail boat, which bore her homewards," and she stopped at her sister's, Mrs. Cutts's house, which was owned and occupied many years, and to the time of his death, by ex-President John Quincy Adams, on F Street, one square from the Treasury Department. The President and his secretaries returned by way of Georgetown, and the government was soon again set on foot. After boarding at Mrs. Cutts's a few weeks, the President and family resumed housekeeping in the Ogle Tayloe mansion, still standing at the corner of Eighteenth Street and New York Avenue, where they passed the winter. The special session of Congress, called for the 19th of September, was held in the Patent Office. The enemy did not stop to bury their dead, and they left many of their wounded behind. Philip Frenau thus describes their arrival and exit: "A veteran host by veterans led, With Ross and Cockburn at their head, They came-they saw-they burned-and fled !" A part of their fleet pushed up the river to Alexandria, August 28, when that city at once capitulated on humiliating terms. Captain Gordon, the British officer in command, states that Fort Washington was abandoned and the magazine blown up by the United States garrison without firing a gun, leaving the way clear for his ships to reach Alexandria, and that he took from there seventy-one vessels loaded with flour, tobacco, cotton, wine, sugar, and other merchandise of value. With comparatively little damage, in spite of all that could be done to oppose them by shore batteries, fire-ships, and sharp-shooters, the enemy escaped with their booty. Their next move was against Baltimore, where, at the battle of North Point, September 12, Admiral Cockburn officially reported, "General Ross, in the first desultory skirmish, received a musket-ball through his arm into his breast, which proved fatal to him on his way to the water-side for re-embarkation." Thus fell the British general who led the attack on Washington, and who, at a dinner there, August 25, gave as a toast, "Peace with America-war with Madison." As will have been observed, I have introduced several extracts from the British narrative of Mr. George R. Gleig; and it may be interesting to state that some time after I had prepared this sketch, I learned incidentally that he was still alive, and, at the age of ninety-one years, the ChaplainGeneral of the British army. Thinking he might favor me with some reminiscences of the British invasion and occupancy of Washington, I addressed him on the subject, and have received two letters from him in reply, one dated April 24 and the other June 4, 1884. In the first he writes: "You ask me for anecdotes connected with the battle of Bladensburg and the capture of Washington. I could give you many were we face to face. On paper I must confine myself to such as are least likely to overtax your patience. "1. Nothing could exceed the kindness of the inhabitants of Bladensburg to our wounded, both when thrust upon them and after we had returned to our ships. In the same room with Colonel Thornton lay your gallant Commodore Barney, both grievously hurt. A friendship was at once struck up between them, which lasted through their lives. The commodore told Thornton the following story: 'I commanded a battery of artillery and saw one of your men deliberately pile up some stones, then lie down behind them and take aim. "Oh," said I, to myself, "you are a crack shot, I suppose, but I'll balk you," which I did, for I pointed one of our guns at him myself, and when the smoke cleared away his parapet was in ruins, and himself nowhere. I hope he ran away.' "2. When your people gave way, one brave fellow tried to stop them by waving the flag he carried and taking a few steps to the front. But it is not easy to rally raw troops as yours were, and only a few men answered to his call. One I well remember, for he fired thrice at me, and wore a black coat. We were in loose skirmishing order, and, being very anxious to capture the color, I ran directly towards the bearer. Before I could reach him, he dropped the color, evidently having received a wound, and my friend with the black coat moved off also, though not till with his third shot he gave me a scratch in the thigh. I got the color, which now hangs in the chapel of Chelsea Hospital. My wound, though slight, made me stiff, and I was glad to enter Washington on horseback. "3. Two adventures befell me there. I was limping past a house in a street near the Capitol, when a window was opened and a negro woman invited me to enter. The family had quitted the town, and the servants offered me all manner of good things. I was amused, and told them I wanted nothing except a clean shirt, having only one which I had worn since the 19th. The clean shirt was immediately produced, which I put on, leaving mine to replace it. “4. On the 25th a hurricane fell on the city, which unroofed houses and upset our three-pounder guns. It upset me also. It fairly lifted me out of the saddle, and the horse which I had been riding I never saw again. This is surely gossip enough." In my letter of grateful acknowledgment, I inquired of Mr. Gleig respecting the conflicting accounts of the fatal explosion at the arsenal and of the alleged flag of truce. This is his reply: "I really do not know what was the cause of the explosion to which you refer. The explosion itself I perfectly recollect; but, not being near the spot where it occurred, I have nothing more to revert to respecting its cause than the rumors of the camp. Both the accounts which you give to me were circulated among us. Which is the correct one, if either, I cannot tell. I have no doubt you are right as regards the shots fired after General Ross and Admiral Cockburn entered Washington. It was dark when they entered the town, and as the American army had, I believe, evacuated the place, the men [who] fired on the general would not understand either the nature of the roll of the drum, which demands a parley, or a white flag, if it were shown. With respect to the other point, bearing on Ross's instructions, the facts are these: Twenty-three American soldiers engaged in the invasion of Canada were recognized, when taken prisoners, as deserters from the British army. They were imprisoned preparatory to trial; whereupon General Dearborn immediately imprisoned as many British prisoners, and warned the English authorities that life would go for life. Forthwith forty-six more Americans, officers and non-commissioned officers, were put in arrest as guarantees for the lives of the British prisoners. On neither side were lives taken, but the incident embittered the feeling of hostility which, on the American side, vented itself in the burning of some Canadian villages during the winter, and, on the side of England, called forth the stern order to destroy American towns on the coast. Ross's despatch was not a happy one. He seems to have been hurried by indignation into sanctioning proceedings which met with no approval in London; indeed, so little was our vandalism approved that the government withheld from him the honors which he would have otherwise received after a brilliant though short campaign." The enemy succeeded not only in destroying property valued at two million dollars, but by unparalleled barbarity in inflicting upon their country a stigma, the record of which there is not an Englishman of to-day who would not rejoice to see erased from the pages of history. Our own countrymen, too, I am inclined to believe, would be willing to see this done, provided the record and recollection of the not over-creditable defence of the capital could also at the same time be forever blotted out. CHAPTER XI. THE BLADENSBURG RACES. EDITOR OF MAGAZINE OF AMERICAN HISTORY: I wish I had known of an amusing production, which has unexpectedly come into my hands, touching "The Bladensburg Races," since your contributor, Colonel Norton, wrote me asking for some appropriate accompaniment to the burlesque British engraving of the "Burning of Washington," in your December issue. This is a ballad of sixty-eight stanzas, somewhat after the style of "John Gilpin's Ride." It opens in this wise: "James Madison a soldier was, Of courage and renown, And Generalissimo was he Of famous Washington. "Quoth Madison unto his spouse, "To-morrow is the twenty-fourth, That then, or on the following day, "To-morrow, then,' quoth she, 'we'll fly All in our coach and four. "My sister Cutts, and Cutts and I, "He soon replied, ‘I do admire And you are she, my Dolly dear; The "Generalissimo" thereupon prepares for the tripsaying his "trusty steed the Griffin bold" would "safely bear him through"-that he, with the members of his Cabinet, "would start as though for Bladensburg," but when they had cleared the town they would put "for Montgomery, and o'ertake the coach at early noon." This seemed greatly to please "Mistress Dolly," on whose ruddy cheek he pressed a kiss. "O'erjoyed was he to find, Though bent on running off, she'd still Fearing the "mob should grumble loud," the coach was not allowed to start from the White House; but "six precious souls, and all agog," entered it "at brother Cutts's." "Smack went the whip, 'round went the wheels; Were never folks so glad: The dust did rise beneath the coach, As though the dust were mad." |