WASHINGTON
An opportunity so favourable was not endangered by any needless delay.
While the two brigades which had been engaged remained upon the field
to recover their order, the third, which had formed the reserve, and
was consequently unbroken, took the lead, and pushed forward at a rapid
rate towards Washington.
As it was not the intention of the British Government to attempt
permanent conquests in this part of America, and as the General was
well aware that, with a handful of men, he could not pretend to
establish himself, for any length of time, in an enemy’s capital, he
determined to lay it under contribution, and to return quietly to the
shipping. Nor was there anything unworthy of the character of a British
officer in this determination. By all the customs of war, whatever
public property may chance to be in a captured town, becomes,
confessedly, the just spoil of the conqueror; and in thus proposing to
accept a certain sum of money in lieu of that property, he was showing
mercy rather than severity to the vanquished. It is true that if they
chose to reject his terms he and his army would be deprived of their
booty, because without some more convenient mode of transporting it
than we possessed, even the portable part of the property itself could
not be removed. But, on the other hand, there was no difficulty in
destroying it; and thus, though we should gain nothing, the American
Government would lose probably to a much greater amount than if they
had agreed to purchase its preservation by the money demanded.
Such being the intention of General Ross, he did not march the troops
immediately into the city, but halted them upon a plain in its
immediate vicinity, whilst a flag of truce was sent forward with terms.
But whatever his proposal might have been, it was not so much as heard;
for scarcely had the party bearing the flag entered the street, when it
was fired upon from the windows of one of the houses, and the horse of
the General himself, who accompanied it, killed. The indignation
excited by this act throughout all ranks and classes of men in the
army, was such as the nature of the case could not fail to occasion.
Every thought of accommodation was instantly laid aside; the troops
advanced forthwith into the town, and having first put to the sword all
who were found in the house from which the shots were fired, and
reduced it to ashes, they proceeded without a moment’s delay to burn
and destroy everything in the most distant degree connected with
Government. In this general devastation were included the Senate-house,
the President’s palace, an extensive dock-yard and arsenal, barracks
for two or three thousand men, several large storehouses filled with
naval and military stores, some hundreds of cannon of different
descriptions, and nearly twenty thousand stand of small-arms. There
were also two or three public ropewalks which shared the same fate, a
fine frigate pierced for sixty guns, and just ready to be launched,
several gun brigs and armed schooners, with a variety of gun-boats and
small craft. The powder-magazines were set on fire, and exploded with a
tremendous crash, throwing down many houses in their vicinity, partly
by pieces of the walls striking them, and partly by the concussion of
the air; whilst quantities of shot, shell, and hand-grenades, which
could not otherwise be rendered useless, were cast into the river. In
destroying the cannon a method was adopted which I had never before
witnessed, and which, as it was both effectual and expeditious, I
cannot avoid relating. One gun of rather a small calibre was pitched
upon as the executioner of the rest, and being loaded with ball and
turned to the muzzles of the others, it was fired, and thus beat out
their breechings. Many, however, not being mounted, could not be thus
dealt with; these were spiked, and having their trunnions knocked off,
were afterwards cast into the bed of the river.
All this was as it should be, and had the arm of vengeance been
extended no further, there would not have been room given for so much
as a whisper of disapprobation. But unfortunately it did not stop here;
a noble library, several printing-offices, and all the national
archives were likewise committed to the flames, which, though no doubt
the property of Government, might better have been spared. It is not,
however, my intention to join the outcry which was raised at the time
against what the Americans and their admirers were pleased to term a
line of conduct at once barbarous and unprofitable. On the contrary, I
conceive that too much praise cannot be given to the forbearance and
humanity of the British troops, who, irritated as they had every right
to be, spared, as far as possible, all private property, neither
plundering nor destroying a single house in the place, except that from
which the General’s horse had been killed.
Whilst the third brigade was thus employed, the rest of the army,
having recalled its stragglers, and removed the wounded into
Bladensburg, began its march towards Washington. Though the battle came
to a close by four o’clock, the sun had set before the different
regiments were in a condition to move, consequently this short journey
was performed in the dark. The work of destruction had also begun in
the city before they quitted their ground; and the blazing of houses,
ships, and stores, the report of exploding magazines, and the crash of
falling roofs, informed them, as they proceeded, of what was going
forward. It would be difficult to conceive a finer spectacle than that
which presented itself as they approached the town. The sky was
brilliantly illumined by the different conflagrations; and a dark red
light was thrown upon the road, sufficient to permit each man to view
distinctly his comrade’s face. Except the burning of St. Sebastian’s, I
do not recollect to have witnessed at any period of my life a scene
more striking or more sublime.
Having advanced as far as the plain, where the reserve had previously
paused, the first and second brigades halted; and forming into close
column, passed the night in bivouac. At first this was agreeable
enough, because the air was mild, and weariness made up for what was
wanting in comfort. But towards morning a violent storm of rain,
accompanied with thunder and lightning, came on, which disturbed the
rest of all who were exposed to it. Yet in spite of the inconvenience
arising from the shower, I cannot say that I felt disposed to grumble
at the interruption, for it appeared that what I had before considered
as superlatively sublime, still wanted this to render it complete. The
flashes of lightning vied in brilliancy with the flames which burst
from the roofs of burning houses, whilst the thunder drowned for a time
the noise of crumbling walls, and was only interrupted by the
occasional roar of cannon, and of large depots of gunpowder, as they
one by one exploded.
I need scarcely observe, that the consternation of the inhabitants was
complete, and that to them this was a night of terror. So confident had
they been of the success of their troops, that few of them had dreamt
of quitting their houses or abandoning the city; nor was it till the
fugitives from the battle began to rush in, filling every place as they
came with dismay, that the President himself thought of providing for
his safety. That gentleman, as I was credibly informed, had gone forth
in the morning with the army, and had continued among his troops till
the British forces began to make their appearance. Whether the sight of
his enemies cooled his courage or not I cannot say, but according to my
informant, no sooner was the glittering of our arms discernible, than
he began to discover that his presence was more wanted in the senate
than in the field; and having ridden through the ranks, and exhorted
every man to do his duty, he hurried back to his own house, that he
might prepare a feast for the entertainment of his officers, when they
should return victorious. For the truth of these details I will not be
answerable; but this much I know, that the feast was actually prepared,
though, instead of being devoured by American officers, it went to
satisfy the less delicate appetites of a party of English soldiers.
When the detachment sent out to destroy Mr. Maddison’s house, entered
his dining parlour, they found a dinner-table spread, and covers laid
for forty guests. Several kinds of wine in handsome cut-glass decanters
were cooling on the sideboard; plate-holders stood by the fire-place,
filled with dishes and plates; knives, forks, and spoons, were arranged
for immediate use; everything in short was ready for the entertainment
of a ceremonious party. Such were the arrangements in the dining-room,
whilst in the kitchen were others answerable to them in every respect.
Spits loaded with joints of various sorts turned before the fire; pots,
saucepans, and other culinary utensils stood upon the grate; and all
the other requisites for an elegant and substantial repast were in the
exact state which indicated that they had been lately and precipitately
abandoned.
The reader will easily believe that these preparations were beheld, by
a party of hungry soldiers, with no indifferent eye. An elegant dinner,
even though considerably over-dressed, was a luxury to which few of
them, at least for some time back, had been accustomed; and which,
after the dangers and fatigues of the day, appeared peculiarly
inviting. They sat down to it, therefore, not indeed in the most
orderly manner, but with countenances which would not have disgraced a
party of aldermen at a civic feast; and having satisfied their
appetites with fewer complaints than would have probably escaped their
rival gourmands, and partaken pretty freely of the wines, they finished
by setting fire to the house which had so liberally entertained them.
I have said that to the inhabitants of Washington this was a night of
terror and dismay. From whatever cause the confidence arose, certain it
is that they expected anything rather than the arrival among them of a
British army; and their consternation was proportionate to their
previous feeling of security, when an event, so little anticipated,
actually came to pass. The first impulse naturally prompted them to
fly, and the streets were speedily crowded with soldiers and senators,
men, women, and children, horses, carriages, and carts loaded with
household furniture, all hastening towards a wooden bridge which
crosses the Potomac. The confusion thus occasioned was terrible, and
the crowd upon the bridge was such as to endanger its giving way. But
Mr. Maddison, as is affirmed, having escaped among the first, was no
sooner safe on the opposite bank of the river, than he gave orders that
the bridge should be broken down; which being obeyed, the rest were
obliged to return, and to trust to the clemency of the victors.
In this manner was the night passed by both parties; and at daybreak
next morning the light brigade moved into the city, whilst the reserve
fell back to a height about half a mile in the rear. Little, however,
now remained to be done, because everything marked out for destruction
was already consumed. Of the Senate-house, the President’s palace, the
barracks, the dockyard, &c., nothing could be seen, except heaps of
smoking ruins; and even the bridge, a noble structure upwards of a mile
in length, was almost entirely demolished. There was, therefore, no
further occasion to scatter the troops, and they were accordingly kept
together as much as possible on the Capitol Hill.
Of the city of Washington I have purposely declined attempting any
minute description, because it possesses no leading features, by
catching which I might hope to convey to a person who has not seen it,
something like an accurate notion of the whole. It was then, and is, I
believe, still in its infancy, few of the streets being finished, and
many containing not more than three or four houses, at wide intervals
from each other. But its situation gives to it advantages such as few
capitals either in the new or old world can boast of, and if it
continue to be the head of the American States for another century, it
will become, I doubt not, one of the most flourishing cities in
existence. America is, and always will be, a commercial nation, nor can
a single town throughout the whole of that vast continent boast of a
better harbour than Washington. Standing upon the Potomac, one of the
most navigable of all the rivers that empty themselves into the
Chesapeake, the depth of which is sufficient to float a frigate for
some way above the town, it possesses unrivalled facilities for the
carrying on of an extensive trade; whilst its distance from the coast
is such as to place it, in a great measure, beyond reach of insult from
an enemy. Such an assertion, coming from one who has just detailed the
particulars of its capture, may, indeed, appear to partake not slightly
of the nature of a paradox; but there is no denying that the fall of
Washington ought to be attributed much more to the misconduct of the
Americans themselves, than to the skill or enterprise of those who
effected it. Had the emergency been contemplated, and in a proper
manner provided against, or had the most moderate ingenuity and courage
been displayed in retarding the progress of our troops, the design, if
formed at all, would have been either abandoned immediately, or must
have ended in the total destruction of the invaders.
Like other infant towns, Washington is but little ornamented with fine
buildings; except the Senate-house, I really know of none worthy to be
noticed. This however is, or rather was, an edifice of some beauty. It
stood, where its ruins now stand, upon a mound called the Capitol Hill,
and near a trifling stream named the Tiber; from which circumstances
these modern republicans are led to flatter themselves that the days
are coming when it will rival in power and grandeur the Senate-house of
ancient Rome herself. It was built entirely of freestone, tastefully
worked and highly polished; and, besides its numerous windows, was
lighted from the top by a large and handsome cupola. Perhaps it could
not be said to belong to any decided style of architecture; but its
central appearance was light, airy, and elegant. After traversing a
wide and spacious entrance-hall, you arrived at the foot of a handsome
spiral hanging staircase; on the right of which were two spacious
apartments, one above the other, which were occupied as sitting
chambers by the two houses of representatives. From these branched off
several smaller rooms, fitted up as offices, and probably used as such
by the various officers of state. On the right of the staircase, again,
were two other apartments equal in size to those on the left, with a
like number of smaller rooms branching off from them. These were
furnished as a public library, the two larger being well stocked with
valuable books, principally in modern languages, whilst the others,
filled with archives, national statutes, acts of legislature, &c., were
used as the private rooms of the librarians.
The President’s house, on the other hand, though likewise a public
building, was remarkable for nothing except the absence of taste
exhibited in its structure. It was small, incommodious, and plain; in
no respect likely to excite the jealousy of a people peculiarly averse
to all pomp or parade, even in their chief magistrate. Besides these,
there were also a custom-house, several banking-houses, and a school or
college, all claiming to themselves the destruction of public works;
but in them there was a plainness amounting almost to coarseness, and a
general air of republicanism, by no means imposing. With respect to the
number of inhabitants which Washington contained, I confess that I
cannot pretend to give an opinion: but if any judgment may be formed
from the extent of ground covered by what is considered as the town, I
should say that they amounted to somewhere about sixty thousand. George
Town, the quarter where the President’s house stood, is compact and
regular, containing, I should conceive, at least twenty thousand souls
within itself; nor can the population of the other quarters be
estimated at less than double that number.
Such was then the city of Washington, of which our hasty and unfriendly
visit did not allow us to take a very minute survey. I return now to
the movements of the British army.
I have stated above that our troops were this day kept as much together
as possible upon the Capitol Hill. But it was not alone on account of
the completion of their destructive labours that this was done. A
powerful army of Americans already began to show themselves upon some
heights, at the distance of two or three miles from the city; and as
they sent out detachments of horse even to the very suburbs, for the
purpose of watching our motions, it would have been unsafe to permit
more straggling than was absolutely necessary. The army which we had
overthrown the day before, though defeated, was far from annihilated;
it had by this time recovered its panic, began to concentrate itself in
our front, and presented quite as formidable an appearance as ever. We
learnt, also, that it was joined by a considerable force from the back
settlements, which had arrived too late to take part in the action, and
the report was, that both combined amounted to nearly twelve thousand
men.
Whether or not it was their intention to attack, I cannot pretend to
say, because it was noon before they showed themselves; and soon after,
when something like a movement could be discerned in their ranks, the
sky grew suddenly dark, and the most tremendous hurricane ever
remembered by the oldest inhabitant in the place came on. Of the
prodigious force of the wind it is impossible for one who was not an
eye-witness to its effects to form a conception. Roofs of houses were
torn off by it, and whirled into the air like sheets of paper; whilst
the rain which accompanied it resembled the rushing of a mighty
cataract rather than the dropping of a shower. The darkness was as
great as if the sun had long set, and the last remains of twilight had
come on, occasionally relieved by flashes of vivid lightning streaming
through it; which, together with the noise of the wind and the thunder,
the crash of falling buildings, and the tearing of roofs as they were
stript from the walls, produced the most appalling effect I ever have,
and probably ever shall, witness. The storm lasted for nearly two hours
without intermission, during which time many of the houses spared by us
were blown down, and thirty of our men, besides several of the
inhabitants, buried beneath their ruins. Our column was as completely
dispersed as if it had received a total defeat; some of the men flying
for shelter behind walls and buildings, and others falling flat upon
the ground, to prevent themselves from being carried away by the
tempest; nay, such was the violence of the wind, that two pieces of
light cannon, which stood upon the eminence, were fairly lifted from
the ground, and borne several yards to the rear.