"Ille crucem, scelenis pretium tulit, hic diadema."
The news was received in England with the liveliest demonstrations of joy. The Lord Mayor of London ordered the Park and Tower guns to be fired at noon, in honor of a victory, which he pompously declared was "worth an illumination." The official account was translated into French, German and Italian, and scattered over the continent. Mr. Clay and Mr. Russell were in the theatre at Brussels when the news arrived. The secretary of the legation, Mr. Hughes, had overheard an English officer in the lobby saying—"We have taken and burned the Yankee capital, and thrown those rebels back half a century"—and going to their box told them there were reasons why they should leave the theatre, which he would disclose at their hotel. He had observed some of the British legation present, and the announcement of such tidings would be embarrassing to the American embassy. They were exceedingly annoyed by the news, especially next morning, when the English embassadors sent them a paper giving an account of the act; and they returned, mortified, to Ghent. It was received on the continent, however, with marked disapprobation. Even a Bourbon paper, in Paris, declared that notwithstanding the atrocities charged on Napoleon, he had never committed an act so degrading to civilized warfare as this.
The vessels designed to coöperate with the movement on Washington, reached Alexandria the same evening the British army left the former place, and after levying a contribution on the inhabitants, seizing twenty-one merchant vessels, sixteen thousand barrels of flour, a thousand hogsheads of tobacco, and whatever else was valuable, departed. In their descent, they were harassed by Porter and Perry from the shore, but the guns of the latter were too light to effect much damage. Commodore Rodgers also hovered with fire ships around their flight, but it was too rapid to allow the concentration of a sufficient force to arrest them.
Armstrong, the Secretary of War, following the example of President, Cabinet, Generals and army, galloped away from the disastrous field of Bladensburg, and took refuge in a farm-house. The fugitive President and the fugitive Secretary at length met, and returned together to Washington. The entrance of the latter to the capital was the signal for the indignant outburst of the entire population. The militia officers of the District refused to obey his orders in the future, and a committee of the citizens waited on the President, demanding his dismissal from the post of Secretary of War. It was suddenly discovered that he was wholly to blame for the conduct of the troops at Bladensburg. Borne away by the popular current, which he was thankful was not directed against himself, Madison requested Armstrong to retire for awhile to Baltimore. Sept. 3. The latter obeyed, but immediately sent in his resignation, in which he paid the President the compliment of having, as he declared, shamefully yielded to the "humors of a village mob." Monroe, Secretary of State, was appointed to discharge his duties, and a proclamation was issued calling an early meeting of Congress.
The British government never committed a greater blunder than when it sanctioned the sack and burning of Washington. Estimating its importance by that which the capitals of Europe held in their respective kingdoms, her misguided statesmen supposed its overthrow would paralyze the nation and humble the government into submission. But there was scarcely a seaport on our coast, whose destruction would not have been a greater public calamity. Besides, the greater its value in the eyes of the people, the more egregious the mistake. Judging us by the effeminate races of India, or the ignorant population of central Europe, who are accustomed to be governed by blows, they imagined the heavier the scourging, the more prostrated by fear, and more eager for peace we should become. But resistance and boldness rise with us in exact proportion to the indignities offered and injuries inflicted. With a country, whose vital part is no where fixed, but consisting in the unity of the people, can shift with changing fortunes from the sea-coast even to the Rocky Mountains, its heart can never be reached by the combined forces of the world. This republic can never die but by its own hand. In a foreign war, our strength can be weakened only by sowing dissensions. Outrages which inflame the national heart, or local sufferings that awaken national sympathy serve only to heal all these, and hence render us impregnable. Thus, when Mr. Alison, in closing up his account of this war and speaking of the probabilities of another, advises the sudden precipitation of vast armies on our shore as the only way to insure success, he exhibits a lamentable ignorance of our character. An outrage or calamity at the outset, sufficiently great to break down party opposition, and drown all personal and political contests in one shout for vengeance, rolling from limit to limit of our vast possessions, would endow us with resistless energy and strength. The attacks on Baltimore and New Orleans teach an instructive lesson on this point. In the latter place, where a veteran army of nine thousand men were repulsed by scarcely one-third of its force, now an army of two hundred thousand would make no impression.
The sack of Washington furnishes a striking illustration of the effect of a great public calamity on this nation. One feeling of wrath and cry for vengeance swept the land. A high national impulse hushed the bickerings and frightened into silence the quarrels of factions, and the President and his Cabinet never gained strength so fast as when the capitol was in flames, and they were fleeing through the storm and darkness, weighed down with sorrow and despondency.
At the same time this expedition against Washington was moving to its termination, Sir Peter Parker ascended the Chesapeake to Rockhall, from whence he sent out detachments in various quarters, burning dwellings, grain, stacks, outhouses, etc. On the 30th, he landed at midnight, to surprise Colonel Reed, encamped in an open plain with a hundred and seventy militia. It was bright moonlight, and as the column advanced it was received with a steady and well-directed fire. At length the ammunition failing, this brave band was compelled to fall back. The enemy at the same time retreated, carrying with them Sir Peter Parker, mortally wounded with buck shot.
On the return of these several expeditions, it was resolved to make a grand and united attack on Baltimore, that nest of privateers. On the 6th of September, the whole fleet, consisting of more than forty sail, moved slowly up the Chesapeake, carrying a mixed, heterogeneous land force of five thousand men. Six days after, it reached the Patapsco, and landed the troops at North Point. The first object of attack was fort M'Henry, situated about two miles from Baltimore. The capture of this, it was thought, would open a passage to the city. Having put their forces in marching order, General Ross and Cochrane moved forward towards the intrenchments erected for the defence of Baltimore, while the vessels of war advanced against the fort.
After marching four miles, the leading column of the army was checked by General Stricker, who with three thousand men had taken post near the head of Bear Creek. A sharp skirmish ensued, in which the two companies of Levering and Howard under Major Heath and Captain Aisquith's rifle company, fought gallantly. General Ross, hearing the firing rode forward, and mingled with the skirmishers, to ascertain the cause of it, when he was pierced by the unerring ball of a rifleman, and fell in the road. His riderless horse went plunging back towards the main army, his "saddle and housings stained with blood, carrying the melancholy news of his master's fate to the astonished troops." Stretched by the road side, the dying general lay writhing in the agonies of death. He had only time to speak of his wife and children, before he expired. He was a gallant, skillful and humane officer, and his part in the burning of Washington, must be laid to his instructions rather than to his character.
The command devolved on Colonel Brooke, who gave the orders to advance. General Stricker defended his position firmly, but at length was compelled to fall back on his reserve, and finally took post within half a mile of the intrenchments of the city. This ended the combat for the day. The next morning Colonel Brooke recommenced his march, and advanced to within two miles of the intrenchments, where he encamped till the following morning, to wait the movements of the fleet.