of the distress there is in the royal bosom on ac- | count of the cruel and oppressive measures of the state. His Majesty, from his earliest infancy, discovered amiable tokens of love and compassion, and if he chanced to take offence at any thing, his displeasure was but for a moment; and the least sign of sorrow or submission on the part of the delinquent, melted his noble mind into forgiveness and perfect reconciliation. This then being a true picture of the royal disposition, how are we to account for the present vindictive, obdurate, unrelenting system of measures? The answer is this: There is a private and a public conscience; the King makes a part of the legislature, he has indeed a negative, but to exercise that negative, in opposition to the advice and wisdom of Parliament, is always hazardous, has been fatal, and must not be exercised but on the fullest conviction that ministers pursue plans derogatory to the honour, prejudicial to the interests of the people and subversive of the state.

Columbia," which was set to the music of "The President's March." The air of "The Star Spangled Banner" is that of the old English bacchanalian song "To Anacreon in Heaven;" but "Hail Columbia" is wholly American in tune and words. Mr. McKoy's reminiscences have not, we believe, been reprinted since they were originally published. The article is as follows:

The seat of the Federal Government of the thirteen United States being removed to Philadelphia, and in honor of the new president, Washington, then residing at No. 190 High-street, the march, ever since known as "The President's March," was composed by a German teacher of music, in this city, named Roth, or Roat, designated familiarly by those who knew him as "Old Roat." He taught those of his pupils who preferred the flute, to give to that instrument the additional sound of the drone, while playing in imitation of the Scotch bagpipe. His residence It hath been the practice of all Governments, was at one time in that row of houses standing which have been suffered to act without restraint, back from Fifth, above Race-street, at the time to impoverish the people under the pretence of known as "The Fourteen Chimneys," some of necessary taxes. This was particularly the case which are still visible in the rear ground, northwith England, after the conquest, and before the eastward of Mayer's church. In his person he establishment of the Great Charter, when the was of the middle size and height. His face was Kings of England claimed a right to TAKE the truly German in expression; dark gray eyes, and property of the subject in what proportion almost bushy eyebrows, round, pointed nose, prominent they pleased. For this reason our wise forefathers lips, and parted chin. He took snuff immoderestablished the House of Commons, who were ately, having his ruffles and vest usually well elected by the people, that they might be inde- sprinkled with grains of rappee. He was considpendent of the crown; and particularly vested ered as eccentric, and a kind of droll. He was them with a power of taxing the subjects AT well known, traditionally, at the Samson and LARGE, that they might give what the necessity | Lion, in Crown-street, where it seems his comof the state required. Here it is that the Ameri-pany, in the olden time, was always a welcome can maxim falls in with the constitution, which requires, that no Englishman shall be taxed without the consent of a representative body of men in Parliament, but without any distinction between the electors or non electors. Therefore, all estimates of expence are brought before the House of Commons, that they may examine the wants of the crown, whether they be well founded, and grant the supply accordingly. And not only so, but that they make take care that the taxes, paid by the people AT LARGE, be properly applied to the purposes for which they were granted. This is the security which every Englishman hath for his property, in respect to our taxation laws. And this is the constitutional security we should now offer to our American brethren, and the other provinces beyond the Atlantic.

ORIGIN OF "HAIL COLUMBIA."-In 1829, William McKoy of Philadelphia, under the signature "Lang Syne," published in Poulson's Daily Advertiser an account of the origin of the song" Hail

addition to the pewter-pint customers, gathered there at their pipes and beer, while listening to his facetious tales and anecdotes, without number, of high life about town, and of the players-Nick Hammond, Miss Tuke, Hodgkinson, Mrs. Pownall, and Jack Martin, of the old theatre in Southwark. This said "President's March," by Roat, the popular songs of Markoe, the "city poet," in particular the one called "The Tailor Done Over," and the beautiful air of "Dans Votre Lit," which had been rendered popular by its being exquisitely sung at the time, by Wools, of the Old American Company, were sung and whistled by every one who felt freedom (of mind) to whistle and sing.

During the French Revolutionary enthusiasm which prevailed here from '93 to '97, produced by the "wide, the unbounded prospect" of civil liberty in Europe, these popular pieces were set aside every where by the new French songs of "Ça Ira Caramagnole," and the Marseilles Hymn. These latter were first sung upon the stage by the old company under Hallam and Henry. Ad

dison's Cato was "got up" for the occasion, when they were sung between the acts, being joined by the audience in full chorus. Does none remember?

in tragedy, comedy, opera, or farce,-having the most brilliant and profitable benefits of any,-for some reason or other, she fell, all at once, from her dizzy height in the public favor, "all the world to nothing." Her last benefit at the theatre proved a loss; nevertheless, the audience, slender as it was, without reflecting, clamored, as usual, for "Mr. Fox and Hail Columbia.' Mrs. Marshall appeared from the side scene, and step

person below the middle size of women; an arch, mischievous cast of countenance; rotund in her person, and of the most exquisite symmetry. She informed them Mr. Fox had left the house, and offered, with their permission, to sing in his stead. Of this they had no intention, and dismissed her with "No! no!" and the most flattering applause.

On the opening of the new theatre, in Chestnut-street, by Wignell and Reinagle (since burned down), they were nightly called for by the audience, to the entire exclusion of all other music, prior to the rising of the curtain. Sometimes the chorus would be echoed by parcels of the audi-ped forward with tears in her eyes. She was in ence, after the modern fashion of echoing simultaneously the "whack, Judy O'Flaunagan," when given by Looney Mactwolter, in the "Wags of Windsor." The afterward excesses of the Revolutionists in France, Marat, Danton, Robespierre, and the rest, the guillotine groaned night and day, in Paris, under the ponderous slide of its bloody axe, and the burnings and plunderings of American commerce, by French cruisers upon the Ocean-although, borne at the time, almost without a loud murmur, and as a kind of necessary sacrifice in the cause of liberty and the rights of man, operated at last, however, with a cooling effect upon the flame of excessive gratitude towards our 66 august ally," as expressed in the theatre, and in public rejoicings. From the loud and deafening calls from all parts of the house for "Ça Ira Caramagnole," and the Marseilles Hymn, as usual, they dwindled away to some half-dozen voices in the gallery, exercised in disturbing the peace of their immediate neighborhood, amid the deep silence of the crowd below. Finally, one night, as well remembered, the spontaneous, simultaneous, overwhelming hiss of a whole audience, consigned them (theatrically) to total oblivion from that time to the present.

Such was the popularity of this song, that very frequently has Mr. Gillingham, the leader of the band, been forced to come to a full stop in the foreign music he had arranged for the evening, by the deafening calls for this march, or song to the march. Giving a few raps with his bow, by way of signal to the band, and at the same time as he sat facing the east, a kind of side-scowl, very unusual with him, he would dash away, playing nothing else until the rise of the curtain; then thrust his violin hastily away, and disappear below the stage. He was remarkable for his gentlemanly appearance in the orchestra; his fine features, pale complexion, and snow-white, powdered hair. While playing, he was immovable as a statue, excepting only the motion of his right arm, while drawing a long bow, and a quick jerk of his left under jaw outwards, occasionally, for the purpose of adjusting his violin to better advantage against the shoulder-blade. Mr. Reinagle, one of the managers, and a professor of music, used to be seen, but only on particular

Public opinion, having thus released itself suddenly from a passion for French Revolutionary music and song, experienced a vacuum in that particular, which was immediately supplied by the new national American song of "Hail Co-occasions, seated at the piano-forte, then standing lumbia, happy Land," written in '98, by Joseph Hopkinson, Esq., of this city, and the measure adapted by him, very judiciously, to the almost forgotten "President's March." Ever since 1798, the song of "Hail Columbia," by Joseph Hopkinson, and the "President's March," by Johannes Roat, being indiscriminately called for, have become, in a manner, synonymous to the public ear and understanding, when they are actually and totally distinct in their origin, as above mentioned.

Mr. Fox, a native of this city, a good actor and a most capital singer in the Incledon style, used to be invariably called upon to sing "Hail Columbia," to the music of the "President's March." Mrs. Marshall, one of the original company, brought out by Wignell, after being the special favorite of the public, and at all times acceptable HIST. MAG. VOL. V. 36

-or

against the stage, in the rear of the band, for the
purpose merely of touching a few notes solo, by
way of accompaniment to the silvery tones of
Mrs. Wignell, as the crazed Ophelia, while sing-
ing, without other music, the "snatches of old
tunes," in Hamlet, her mind the while being like
"sweet bells jingled-out of tune and harsh"
in the song of "I have a silent sorrow here," as
Mrs. Haller. Her pathetic tones and simple mel-
ody, at such times, were beyond all reach of
art in vocal or instrumental music; never failing
to bring into requisition the white handkerchiefs
above, below, and all around among the ladies in
the dress circle. Mr. Reinagle while thus enjoy-
ing the effect of her inimitable chant, exhibited to
the audience a head not unlike that of Louis
XVI., but divested of the simplicity, bushy pow-
dered hair, large, high forehead, and round full

others to proceed with sword and firebrand to lay waste the capital of the country. One day a rumor came that the English troops had burnt Washington. Shortly after, while Dr. Beans and several congenial spirits were sitting over their wine, a negro rushed in with the tidings that the British army was retreating from Washington, and were within a few miles' march of the place. Nothing authentic or particular had been heard of their operations since their departure, the facilities for the transmission of news being of the most primitive kind, and constantly impeded, owing to the state of the country. The only inference that our party could draw from this sudden news was, that there had been a battle in which the English had been beaten and routed, and were now retreating in confusion to their ships, which lay off Annapolis, under the broad pennant of Admiral Cockburn. Filled with patriotic enthusiasm, the Doctor proposed an adjournment to a romantic spring near the house, with lemons and other etceteras, necessary to concoct the favorite libation which they intended This was

I am sure that, at this sad but stirring crisis, it will interest every heart that stands firm in its loyalty to the old flag, whose stars and stripes have, for nearly a century past, not only declared the history of our national prosperity and glory to the world, but which has appeared, wherever to pour out, to celebrate the news. it waved, as a sign of hope and a symbol of free-forthwith agreed to; and in a short time tho dom to the oppressed of every land, to hear a carousal was inaugurated and conducted with version of the origin of that splendid national spirit. Patriotic speeches and toasts were the anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner," from a order of the day, and so well were the host and descendant of one of the parties concerned. Chief his guests occupied, that they scarcely noticed Justice Taney, the brother-in-law of Francis Key, that the slanting rays of the sun announced its Esq., the author of the song, wrote a very inter- setting. Suddenly three foot-sore, dusty, and esting account of it, some years ago, in which, weary soldiers made their appearance on the however, some of the lesser facts connected with scene in quest of water. the affair were omitted. These facts I have heard related hundreds of times by a dear mother, now at rest, who was a guest at the house of her uncle, Dr. William Beans, when the incidents which I shall describe occurred. Dr. Beans lived on his estate in Marlborough, where he dispensed his hospitalities after the liberal and hearty fashion of an old Maryland cavalier, a class which, like that of the "old Virginia gentleman," has been gradually dying out this age past. To love his country and hate the English, was the Doctor's creed, and he let slip no opportunity to toast the one and drink confusion to the other. Among his most valued friends, was Francis Key, Esq., the eminent jurist and poet.

When the English troops were en route across the country to Washington, they bivouacked on Dr. Bean's estate; the officers being handsomely entertained by him in his house, for to him the name of "guest and stranger" gave a sacred claim to the best of every thing he had, so that, during the exercise of his hospitalities, he forgot his enmity towards the nation of his guests. After mutual courtesies on both sides, the Doctor and his self-invited guests parted in the morning, one to resume his cherished and loyal antipathies, the

Truth must be told. Punch had made these old cavaliers, who had won laurels in the Revolution, more than valiant, and they conceived the brilliant idea of making prisoners of war of the enemy, which, with the assistance of their servants, they succeeded in doing, and conveyed them to the court-house for safe keeping, locked them in, placed a guard over them, and returned home to sleep on their laurels. But lo! at midnight, Dr. Beans was roused from his slumbers by a furious knocking at his hall door, the sound of hoofs on the gravelled drive, and the barking and yelping of hounds. The mystery was soon explained. The English soldiers had been missed. The officer in command thought they had deserted, and a detachment was sent in pursuit. They were traced to Dr. Beans' neighborhood, where some of the frightened folk, who had heard of the exploit of the evening, gave information which led to the release of the imprisoned Britons, and the arrest of Dr. Beans, who was taken from his bed,-barely allowed time to clothe himself,— forced at the point of the bayonet to mount a horse and made to accompany the party, strictly guarded to Annapolis, where he was thrown into confinement on board Cockburn's ship. His treatment

was none of the best. He was not allowed the smallest privileges of parole, and was cut off entirely from all communication with his family and friends. All this was characteristic of Admiral Cockburn, who will always be remembered in history as the demon of the Chesapeake.

But Dr. Beans' friends were not idle. The whole country side was roused and indignant, and application was made to the president of the United States to authorize some plan for his release. After some delay, the president appointed Mr. Key to proceed with a flag of truce to the British admiral, and propose an exchange of prisoners-including, of course, Dr. Beans. But by the time Mr. Key arrived at Annapolis, Cockburn's fleet had moved up the bay, entered the Patapsco River, and lay off the harbor, preparatory to making an attack on Baltimore. Mr. Key returned to Baltimore as speedily as the slow facilities for travel at that time allowed him, and impatient to obtain the release of his friend, he lost no time in seeking an interview with Admiral Cockburn, and presenting his credentials. He was courteously received, and invited to dine with the Admiral and his officers. At table, he learned by the conversation around him that Fort McHenry and the city of Baltimore were to be bombarded that night. He had heard rumors of this the day before, but the time of the attack was uncertain. After dinner, as a great favor, he requested the immediate attention of Admiral Cockburn to his dispatches, that he might return ashore accompanied by his friend before nightfall. But he was blandly informed that "it was impossible, as certain plans had been discussed in his hearing which made it of importance for him to consent to remain their guest until the following day." This was a trying and exasperating event to the high-minded Key. But there was no help for it, and controlling his indignation, he requested the privilege of spending the intervening time with his friend, whom he had not yet seen. This reasonable demand was granted forthwith, and he was conducted to the narrow, comfortless place where Dr. Beans was imprisoned. The meeting was full of emotion on both sides, as may be imagined.

It was now sunset, and the friends stood together looking out of a narrow port-hole towards the shore. The last golden beams of day lingered over shore and wave, like a parting benediction, while from the ramparts of Fort McHenry proudly waved the American flag, which the God of nations had protected up to that time from dishonor, which in the hostile attack that followed He shielded and blessed, and which, it is our firm hope He will continue to protect until the last sun that shall ever rise on earth lights up its stars and stripes with its parting glory.

"Will that flag be there, Key, when the morning dawns?" asked Dr. Beans of his friend. "God grant it!" was the fervent response. It was a terrible night to the two American gentlemen, whose patriotic hearts throbbed painfully, as the booming roar of the cannons, the explosion of the deadly bombs, the lurid glare that lit the smoke of the battle, the occasional shouts of defiance that rung out during the short intervals between the discharges, the sharp trumpet-tones of command that pealed above the din, fell on their strained ear. At length the firing became more infrequent as the gray dawn approached. Can we not imagine whither the gaze of Key and his friend was turned? to what object they strained their sight through the morning mist? But every thing on shore was hidden by the smoke and fog which hung low and heavily over the river. They feared the worst-there was no sign to tell them that the American batteries had not been silenced by Cockburn's guns, and Baltimore laid in ashes. While agitated by these fears, the wind suddenly moved through the mist; in a few moments it was lifted away, and they saw the stars and stripes waving untorn and unscathed from its staff, flouting defiance at the foe from every star on its azure field. The revulsion of feeling produced by the welcome sight was too much; they burst into tears and embraced each other without speaking a word. Soon recovering, however, Dr. Beans, with his usual impetuosity, sent an exultant huzza out of the port, to greet it, while Mr. Key, with a heart full and glowing, pencilled on the back of an old letter one or two stanzas, and the outline sketch of our splendid national anthem, which, since our proud flag has become consecrated to us by the very odium that the disloyal sons of patriot fathers have sought to cast on it, is now as sacred to our hearts as the songs of Zion that echoed beside the waters of Babylon.

The exchange of prisoners was effected, and Dr. Beans accompanied by his friend, returned home, with his feeling toward the British no wise improved. I have heard the same dear mother, who so often related this interesting narrative to me, laugh and say, that to the day of his death, Cockburn's name exercised the most salutary influence on the Doctor when in his odd-tempered moods. At such times he was apt to go beyond even the verge of eccentricity, and when he arrived at that point, his wife-a gentle-tempered lady of the old régime-could in a moment still the tempest by observing to him in a quiet tone: "C., my dear, I think we shall have to send for Admiral Cockburn."