At last the faint gray of dawn appeared. They could see that some flag was flying, but it was too dark to tell which. More and more eagerly they gazed. It grew lighter, a sudden breath of wind caught the flag, and it floated out on the breeze. It was no English flag, it was their own Stars and Stripes. The fort had stood, the city was safe. Then it was that Key took from his pocket an old letter and on the back of it he wrote the poem, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
The British departed, and the little American boat went back to the city. Mr. Key gave a copy of the poem to his uncle, who had been helping to defend the fort. The uncle sent it to the printer, and had it struck off on some handbills. Before the ink was dry the printer caught up one and hurried away to a restaurant, where many patriots were assembled. Waving the paper, he cried, “Listen to this!” and he read:—
“O 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 watch'd were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does the star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?”
“Sing it! sing it!” cried the whole company. Charles Durang mounted a chair and then for the first time “The Star-Spangled Banner” was sung. The tune was “To Anacreon in Heaven,” an air which had long been a favorite. Halls, theaters, and private houses rang with its strains.
The fleet was out of sight even before the poem was printed. In the middle of the night the admiral had sent to the British soldiers this message, “I can do nothing more,” and they hurried on board the vessels. It was not long before they left Chesapeake Bay altogether,—perhaps with the new song ringing in their ears as they went.
THE LITTLE DRUMMER-BOY
BY ALBERT BUSHNELL HART (ADAPTED)
A few days before a certain regiment received orders to join General Lyon, on his march to Wilson's Creek, the drummer-boy of the regiment was taken sick, and carried to the hospital.
Shortly after this there appeared before the captain's quarters, during the beating of the reveille, a good-looking, middle-aged woman, dressed in deep mourning, leading by the hand a sharp, sprightly looking boy, apparently about twelve or thirteen years of age.