It was not, however, till next noon that the army, preceded by a company of a hundred blacks, composed of fugitive slaves, began to advance. After making a few miles, it halted for the night.
The Secretary of War had insisted from the first that Washington was not the point threatened, and still adhered to that opinion. He could not conceive that an experienced commander would select as the first object of attack a town of some nine hundred houses, scattered over a surface of three miles, and destitute of wealth, while the opulent cities of Baltimore and Annapolis lay so near. This, too, was the opinion of many others, creating great confusion, and preventing the selection of strong positions, where successful stands could have been made.
While the British were thus slowly advancing, General Winder was riding hither and thither, now making a reconnoissance in person, now posting to Washington to rouse the Secretary of War out of his lethargy, or hurrying on foot back again to his army, doing every thing but restoring tranquillity and order. Confusion in the camp—disorder in the ranks—consternation among the inhabitants, and gloom and doubt in the cabinet, combined to render the three days the British were marching on Washington, a scene of extraordinary excitement and misdirected efforts.
Aug. 24.
At length, videttes and scouts, coming in quick succession, announced that the British army was approaching Bladensburg, where General Stansbury, with the Baltimore militia, was encamped. There was not a breath of air, and the column staggered on through a cloud of dust, and under a sweltering August sun. The soldiers, exhausted, reeled from the ranks and fell by the road side, while many others could scarcely drag their weary limbs along. The American troops were busy cooking their dinner when the drums beat to arms, announcing the approach of this much dreaded army.
When the news reached Winder, he immediately transmitted an order to Stansbury to give battle where he was, and hastened thither with the main army, arriving just before the action commenced. Barney, who had been stationed with five hundred men at the bridge over the eastern branch of the Potomac, with directions to blow it up should the enemy approach by that route, no sooner heard of his advance on Bladensburg, than he earnestly requested to repair thither with his brave seamen. He chafed under the inaction to which he was doomed, talking in a boisterous manner, half to himself and half to others, lashing the generals with the bluntness and truth of a sailor, saying, loud enough to be heard by the President and his cabinet standing near, it was absurd to leave him there with five hundred men to blow up a bridge which any "d——d corporal could better do with five." At length permission was given him to join the army, when he leaped on a horse, and ordering his seamen to follow, galloped to Bladensburg. The advance was already engaged, and he immediately sent back to his men to hurry up, and soon the brave and panting fellows appeared on a trot and took their stand beside their commander. The President and his cabinet galloped thither also, but retired at the commencement of the action, not before, however, Monroe, Secretary of State, had tried his hand at military evolutions, and altered the order of battle.
Instead of taking advantage of patches of woods, thickets, etc., where inexperienced militia would have fought well, this heterogeneous army of five or six thousand men was arranged in the form of a semi-circle on the slope that makes up westward from the eastern branch of the Potomac, here a shallow stream and crossed by a wooden bridge. The British, supposing of course, that the position was chosen because it commanded a narrow bridge, the passage of which is always so difficult in the face of batteries, never dreamed the river could be forded, and therefore never attempted it. Ross, who from the top of the highest house in the neighborhood surveyed the American army, was disconcerted at the formidable appearance it presented—posted on such a commanding eminence with heavy artillery,—and would doubtless have retreated but for the greater danger of a retrogade movement with his exhausted troops.
The American army was arranged in three lines like regiments on a parade, connected by the guns that could pour no cross fire on the assailing column. The latter advancing steadily, throwing Congreve rockets as they approached, so shook the courage of the militia that it required but the levelled gleaming bayonet to scatter them like sheep over the field. Many of the officers were brave men and strove to arrest the panic, but in vain. Pinckney with a broken arm rode leisurely out of the battle, his heart filled with rage and mortification at the poltroonry of those under his command.
The details of the engagement are useless—there was a show of resistance and some well sustained firing for awhile; but the whole battle, so far as it can be called one, was fought by Barney. He had planted four guns, among them an eighteen pounder, so as to sweep the main road, and quietly sat beside them on his bay horse, allowing the column to come within close range before he gave orders to fire. The first terrible discharge cleared the road. Three times the British endeavored to advance in front, and as often were swept to destruction by that battery. At length they were compelled to abandon the attempt, and taking shelter under a ravine filed off to the right and left and assailed Barney in flank and rear. Driving easily before them the regiments whose duty it was to protect the artillery, they moved swiftly forward. Barney's horse had been shot under him and he himself, prostrated by a wound, lay stretched in the road. Seeing that the battle was lost, he bade his seamen cut their way through the enemy and escape. Reluctant at first to obey him, they at last fled, and their gallant commander was taken prisoner. A few such determined men would have saved Washington from the flames.
The six hundred Virginians who had hastened to the rescue never joined the army at all. Having arrived without arms, they slept in the House of Representatives all night and were not equipped next day till the battle was over.