Indeed, it transpired afterward that Mrs. Madison had been refused shelter by a shrieking virago because her husband had been enrolled for the defense of the City.
"They are going to the White House. Perhaps they may not molest us, after all."
This proved true. The ravages were continued over eastward. They watched one building after another. The public rope-walk was devoted to the flames. The dockyards and arsenal and naval stores, powder magazine, and a fine frigate just ready to be launched were fed to the devouring element that roared in devastating hunger.
But that seemed nothing to the tornado. Annis flew to her mother's arms, and could not be pacified. Marian and Mrs. Mason would not go to bed, and Annis drowsed with her head on her mother's shoulder, asking now and then if morning had come.
It dawned presently over the ruined City. Rock Creek was a rushing torrent. The Potomac had overflowed its banks. Tiber Creek was swollen out of bounds. Cellars were submerged, boxes and bales and furniture floated out.
The British left their wounded behind, and when they reached Bladensburg there were more than could be cared for. Heartlessly trusting them to the mercy of the beaten enemy, they marched on, striking terror to the smaller towns through which they passed, and then attacking Baltimore, the heroic defense of which is a matter of history. General Ross was killed in the first skirmish, and Admiral Cockburn forced to withdraw, and was condemned even by his own government for his ruthless vandalism, which had won nothing.
But the attack on Fort McHenry gave us one of our most beautiful and deathless songs, and indeed seemed the turning-point of misfortunes in a campaign that had been conducted with so little foresight and sagacity. But even this disaster may have been needed to bring the warring factions together, and convince them that to keep a country intact the strength of all is the salvation of each one, of every home.
Dr. Collaston could hardly call it hope in the morning, but Jaqueline had not lost anything through the terrible night. Roger was nearly worn out with anxiety and the work that had devolved upon him. Wounded men were lying in the streets, and had been brought in from Bladensburg.
"I must get a message over to Patty," the doctor said. "The end of the bridge is burned, but there are some boats. Something must be done for the relief of our poor men who turned out so bravely for the defense of our homes."
Certainly it was a ruined city. Twenty years of labor and interest and expenditure laid waste, many of the inhabitants homeless, some lying wounded, not a few dead. A deserted place, indeed; and it was not until the British were before Baltimore that the panic really subsided.