The Second War with England, Vol. 2 of 2

by Joel Tyler Headley

The retreat became a wild and shameful flight. No other stand was made, and the fugitive army fled unpursued in squads hither and thither. It was a regular stampede. The fields and roads were covered with a broken and flying multitude. President, secretaries of war and navy, attorney-general and all were borne away in the headlong torrent; and though the enemy had no cavalry to pursue, and the infantry were too tired to follow up their success, the panic was so complete and ridiculous that our troops never stopped their flight except when compelled to pause from sheer exhaustion. Fatigue, not the interval they had put between themselves and the enemy, arrested their footsteps. Only fifty or sixty had been killed on our side, while the British had lost several hundred, a large portion of whom fell under the murderous discharges of Barney's battery.

After the shouts and derision of the enemy had subsided with the disappearance of the last fugitive over the hills, the tired army instead of advancing to Washington reposed on the field of battle.

Winder endeavored to rally the troops at the capital for another defence, but not a sufficient number could be found to make a stand, and with curses and oaths the rabble rout streamed along the road to Georgetown, presenting a picture of demoralization and insubordination that formed a fit counterpart to their poltroonry.

The first arrival of the fugitives, officers and citizens, riding pell-mell through the streets, carried consternation into the city, and the inhabitants, some on foot, some in carts or carriages, rushed forth, and streaming on after the frightened militia completed the turbulence of the scene.

Cockburn and Ross leaving the main army to repose itself, took a body-guard and rode into Washington. No resistance was offered—a single shot only was fired, which killed the horse of General Ross. The house from which it issued was formerly occupied by Mr. Gallatin. In a few moments it was in flames. Halting in front of the capitol, they fired a volley at the edifice and took possession of it in the name of the king.

The troops were then marched in, and entering the Hall of Representatives, piled together chairs, desks and whatever was combustible, and applied the torch. The flames passing from room to room, soon wrapped the noble library, and bursting forth from the windows leaped to the roof, enveloping the whole edifice in fire and illuminating the country for miles around. The house of Washington and other buildings were also set on fire. The remaining British force, lighted by the ruddy glow that illumined the landscape and the road along which they were marching, entered the city to assist in the work of destruction. In the mean time, the navy-yard was set on fire by order of the secretary of war, mingling its flames and explosions with the light and roar of the burning capitol. The gallant officer in command of it had offered to defend it, but was refused permission. Whether the refusal was discreet or not, one thing is certain, the enemy could have accomplished no more than the destruction of the materials collected there, and it was not worth while to save them the labor.

The capitol being in flames, Ross and Cockburn led their troops along Pennsylvania Avenue to the President's house, a mile distant, and soon the blazing pile beaconed back to the burning capitol. The Treasury building swelled the conflagration, and by the light of the flames Cockburn and Ross sat down to supper at the house of Mrs. Suter, whom they had compelled to furnish it. Pillage and devastation moved side by side through the streets, while to give still greater terror and sublimity to the scene, a heavy thunder storm burst over the city. From the lurid bosom of the cloud leaped flashes brighter than the flames below, followed by crashes that drowned the roar and tumult which swelled up from the thronged streets, making the night wild and appalling as the last day of time.

To bring the day's work to a fitting close, Cockburn, while the heavens and surrounding country were still ruddy with the flames, entered a brothel and spent in lust and riot a night begun in incendiarism and pillage.