arms or of spirit, to fight for their own firesides." A carriage stood waiting at the door, filled with plate and other valuables, ready to leave at a moment's warning. The Mayor of the city waited on her, urging her to depart; but she bravely refused, saying she would not stir till she heard from her husband.

6. At length, a note from him, in pencil-marks, arrived, bidding her flee. Still delaying, till she could detach a portrait of Washington, by Stuart, from the wall, her friends remonstrated with her. Finding it would take too long to unscrew the painting from the walls, she seized a carving-knife, and cutting the canvas out, hurried away. At Georgetown she met her husband, who, with his Cabinet, in trepidation and alarm, was en route for Virginia. Just as the flames were kindling in the Capitol, the President, Mr. Monroe, Mr. Rush, Mr. Mason, and Carroll, were assembled on the shores of the Potomac, where but one little boat could be found to transport them.

7. Desponding and sad, they were rowed across in gloom, a part at a time, and, mounting their horses, rode hurriedly and sadly away. Mrs. Madison returned toward Georgetown, accompanied by nine troopers, and stopped ten miles and a half from the town. Trembling from the anxiety and fright of the day-separated from her husband, now a fugitive in the darkness-oppressed with fears and gloomy forebodings, she sat down by an open window, and through the tears that streamed from her eyes, gazed forth on the flames of the burning city, and listened with palpitating heart to the muffled shouts and tumult that rose in the distance. Before daylight, she, with her lady companions, started for a place of rendezvous' appointed by her husband, sixteen miles from Georgetown.

8. The 25th of August dawned gloomily over the smouldering city, and the red sun, as he rolled into view, looked on a scene of devastation and ruin. From their drunken orgies', negroes and soldiers crawled forth to the light of day, roused by the reveille from the hill of the Capitol, and the morning-gun that sent its echoes through the sultry air.-Second War with England.

On

Attack on Baltimore.-Ross next proceeded against Baltimore. the 12th of September, he landed his troops at North Point, several miles from the city, while sixteen of the enemy's ships sailed up the Patapsco to bombard Fort McHenry. On his march, Ross was killed in a skirmish, and the progress of the troops was then disputed for more than an hour by a body of militia under General Strick'er. Next day the enemy encamped near the defenses of the city, to await the movements of the fleet. The bombardment of Fort McHenry commenced on the morning of the 13th, and continued till near the following morning, but without making any serious impression. General Brooke, Ross's successor, seeing no prospect of success against the city, embarked his troops, and the whole force of the enemy withdrew.

The Star-Spangled Banner.-Key.

[FRANCIS S. KEY, the author of this national ode, accompanied by a Mr. Skinner, had been sent with a flag of truce to the British fleet to obtain the release of some prisoners taken in Washington. He was obliged to await the bombardment of Fort McHenry; and all night long, he and his companion watched from the deck of their vessel, with the deepest anxiety, the terrific scene. The bombardment ceased during the night, and it was uncertain whether the fort had surrendered or not; when, however, "by the dawn's early light," they saw that "our flag was still there," they knew that the attack had failed; and Key, in the enthusiasm of the moment, took an old letter from his pocket, upon which he wrote most of this celebrated song. It was completed as soon as he reached Baltimore, and being circulated through the city, was sung with patriotic fervor by the inhabitants, becoming soon afterwards one of the national songs of the country.]

Он, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming:

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there:
Oh, say, does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,

As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses ?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner; oh, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where are the foes who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war, and the battle's confusion,

A home and a country should leave us no more?

Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' poilution;

No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Oh, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand

Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,

And this be our motto, " In God is our trust;

And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

The Flag of Washington.--F.W. Gillett.

1. DEAR banner of my native land! ye gleaming, silver stars,
Broad spotless ground of purity, crossed with your azure bars—
Clasped by the hero-father's hand-watched over in his might,
Through battle-hour and day of peace, bright morn and moonless night,
Because, within your clustering folds, he knew you surely bore
Dear Freedom's hope for human souls to every sea and shore!
O precious Flag! beneath whose folds such noble deeds are done-
The dear old Flag! the starry Flag! the Flag of Washington!

2. Unfurl, bright stripes-shine forth, dear stars-swing outward to the breeze

Go bear your message to the wilds-go tell it on the seas,

That poor men sit within your shade, and rich men in their pride—
That beggar-boys and statemen's sons walk 'neath you, side by side
You guard the school-house on the green, the church upon the hill,
And fold your precious blessings round the cabin by the rill,
While weary hearts from every land beneath the shining sun,
Find work, and rest, and home beneath the flag of Washington.

3. And never, never on the earth, however brave they be,
Shall friends or foes bear down this great, proud standard of the Free,
Though they around its staff may pour red blood in rushing waves,
And build beneath its starry folds great pyramids of graves:
For God looks out, with sleepless eye, upon his children's deeds,
And sees, through all their good and ill, their sufferings and their
needs;

And he will watch, and he will keep, till human rights are won,
The dear old Flag! the starry Flag! the Flag of Washington!

Surrender of the Essex.-During 1814, the Americans were generally victorious on the ocean; yet the frigate Essex, Captain Porter,* after a successful cruise of more than a year, was attacked in the harbor of Valparaiso (vahl-pah-ri'so), March 28th, by two British vessels, and forced to surrender. The conflict was one of the most desperate of the war.

Seizure of Pensacola by Jackson.-During the summer, the authorities of Pensacola, then a Spanish port, allowed the British to take possession of their forts and fit out expeditions against the United States. General Jackson, being in command at Mobile, marched to Pensacola at the head of three thousand men ; and, negotiations failing, seized the town and compelled the British to leave. He then returned to Mobile, whence, learning that the British were preparing to invade Louisiana, he hastened to put New Orleans in a condition of defense.

Expedition against New Orleans.-Toward the middle of December, a British squadron entered Lake Borgne (born), carrying twelve thousand troops, commanded by Sir Edward Pakenham (pak'n-am), the first object of the expedition being to capture New Orleans. On the 14th, a flotilla of American gunboats was compelled to surrender; and, on the 23d, Jackson made a spirited though ineffectual attack upon an encampment of the enemy's vanguard. On the 28th, and again on the first day of the new year, the British were unsuccessful in cannonading the intrenchments which Jackson had thrown up four miles from the city.

Battle of New Orleans.-On the 8th of January, 1815, the British made a general advance against the American intrenchments; but volley after volley was poured upon them with such terrible effect, that they were compelled to flee. Pakenham was slain, and two thousand of his men were killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. The Americans lost only seven killed and six wounded.

Battle of New Orleans.-Parton.

1. At one o'clock on the morning of this memorable day (January 8th, 1815), on a couch in a room of the McCarty Mansion-house, General Jackson lay asleep, in his worn uniform. Several of his aids slept upon the floor in the same apartment, all equipped for the field, except that their swordbelts were unbuckled, and their swords and pistols laid aside. A sentinel paced the adjacent passage, sentinels moved noiselessly about the building, which loomed up large, dim, and

* David Porter was born in Boston, Mass., in 1780. When the frigate Philadelphia was captured by the Tripolitans, in 1803, Porter was made captive and held nineteen months. In 1824, he commanded an expedition against the pirates of the West Indies. He subsequently entered the service of Mexico, as commander-in-chief of her naval forces; but, in 1829, returned to the United States. At the time of his death, which occurred at Constantinople, in 1843, he was reset minister of the United States in that city.

Most

silent in the foggy night, among the darkening trees. of those who slept at all that night were still asleep, and there was as yet little stir in either camp to disturb their slumbers.

2. Dreaming of their Scottish hills and homes, their English fields and friends, may have been many brave Britons in their cold and wet bivouac. O tardy science, O Oersted (ur'sted), O Morse, O Cyrus Field, why were you not ready with your Oceanic Telegraph then, to tell those men of both armies, when they woke, that they were not enemies, but friends and brothers, and send them joyful into each other's arms, not in madness against each other's arms? The ship that bore this blessed news was still in mid-ocean, contending with its wintry winds and waves. How much would have gone differently in our history if those tidings had arrived a few weeks sooner! But it was not to be. This fight, it was the decree of Providence, was to be fought out.

3. The suspense was soon over. Daylight struggled through the mist. About six o'clock both columns were advancing at the steady, solid, British pace to the attack; the Forty-Fourth nowhere, straggling in the rear with the fascines and ladders. The column soon came up with the American outposts, who at first retreated slowly before it, but soon quickened their pace, and ran in, bearing their great news, and putting every man in the works intensely on the alert; each commander anxious for the honor of first getting a glimpse of the foe, and opening fire upon him.

4. Lieutenant Spotts, of battery number six, was the first man in the American lines who descried through the fog the dim, red line of General Gibbs's advancing column, far away down the plain, close to the forest. The thunder of his great guns broke the dead stillness. Then there was silence again; for the shifting fog, or the altered position of the enemy, concealed him from view once more. The fog lifted again, and soon revealed both divisions, which, with their detached companies, seemed to cover two-thirds of the plain, and gave the Americans a repetition of the splendid military spectacle which they had witnessed on the 28th of December. Three cheers