When the hurricane had blown over, the camp of the Americans appeared
to be in as great a state of confusion as our own; nor could either
party recover themselves sufficiently during the rest of the day to try
the fortune of a battle. Of this General Ross did not fail to take
advantage. He had already attained all that he could hope, and perhaps
more than he originally expected to attain; consequently, to risk
another action would only be to spill blood for no purpose. Whatever
might be the issue of the contest, he could derive from it no
advantage. If he were victorious, it would not do away with the
necessity which existed of evacuating Washington; if defeated, his ruin
was certain. To avoid fighting was therefore his object, and perhaps he
owed its accomplishment to the fortunate occurrence of the storm. Be
that, however, as it may, a retreat was resolved upon; and we now only
waited for night, to put the resolution into practice.
There was, however, one difficulty to be surmounted in this proceeding.
Of the wounded, many were so ill as to preclude all possibility of
their removal, and to leave them in the hands of an enemy whom we had
beaten was rather a mortifying anticipation. But for this there was no
help; and it now only remained to make the best arrangements for their
comfort, and to secure for them, as far as could be done, civil
treatment from the Americans.
It chanced that, among other prisoners taken at Bladensburg, was
Commodore Barney, an American officer of much gallantry and high sense
of honour. Being himself wounded, he was the more likely to feel for
those who were in a similar condition, and having received the kindest
treatment from our medical attendants, as long as he continued under
their hands, he became, without solicitation, the friend of his
fellow-sufferers. To him, as well as to the other prisoners, was given
his parole, and to his care were our wounded, in a peculiar manner,
intrusted,—a trust which he received with the utmost willingness, and
discharged with the most praiseworthy exactness. Among other
stipulations, it was agreed that such of our people as were left behind
should be considered as prisoners of war, and should be restored to us
as soon as they were able to travel; and that, as soon as they reached
the ships, the Commodore and his countrymen would, in exchange, be
released from their engagements.
As soon as these arrangements were completed, and darkness had come on,
the third brigade, which was posted in the rear of our army, began to
withdraw. Then followed the guns, afterwards the second, and last of
all the light brigade, exactly reversing the order which had been
maintained during the advance. Instead of an advanced guard, this last
now furnished a party to cover the retreat, and the whole procession
was closed by the mounted drivers.
It being a matter of great importance to deceive the enemy and to
prevent pursuit, the rear of the column did not quit its ground upon
the Capitol till a late hour. During the day an order had been issued
that none of the inhabitants should be seen in the streets after eight
o’clock; and as fear renders most men obedient, the order was
punctually attended to. All the horses belonging to different officers
were removed to drag the guns, no one being allowed to ride, lest a
neigh, or even the trampling of hoofs, should excite suspicion. The
fires were trimmed, and made to blaze brightly; fuel enough was left to
keep them so for some hours; and finally, about half-past nine o’clock
the troops formed in marching order, and moved off in the most profound
silence. Not a word was spoken, nor a single individual permitted to
step one inch out of his place, by which means they passed along the
streets perfectly unnoticed, and cleared the town without any alarm
being given. Our pace, it will be imagined, was none of the most tardy,
consequently it was not long before we reached the ground which had
been occupied by the other brigades. Here we found a second line of
fires blazing in the same manner as those deserted by ourselves; and
the same precautions in every respect adopted, to induce a belief that
our army was still quiet.—Beyond these, again, we found two or three
solitary fires, placed in such order as to resemble those of a chain of
piquets. In a word, the deception was so well managed, that even we
ourselves were at first doubtful whether the rest of the troops had
fallen back.
When we reached the ground where yesterday’s battle had been fought,
the moon rose, and exhibited a spectacle by no means enlivening.—The
dead were still unburied, and lay about in every direction completely
naked. They had been stripped even of their shirts, and having been
exposed in this state to the violent rain in the morning, they appeared
to be bleached to a most unnatural degree of whiteness. The heat and
rain together had likewise affected them in a different manner; and the
smell which rose upon the night air was horrible.
There is something in such a scene as this extremely humbling, and
repugnant to the feelings of human nature. During the agitation of a
battle, it is nothing to see men fall in hundreds by your side. You may
look at them, perhaps, for an instant, but you do so almost without
being yourself aware of it, so completely are your thoughts carried
away by the excitation of the moment and the shouts of your
companions.—But when you come to view the dead in an hour of calmness,
stripped as they generally are, you cannot help remembering how frail
may have been the covering which saved yourself from being the
loathsome thing on which you are now gazing.—For myself, I confess that
these reflections rose within my mind on the present occasion; and if
any one should say that, similarly situated, they would not rise in
his, I should give him no credit for a superior degree of courage,
though I might be inclined to despise him for his want of the common
feelings of a reasonable being.
BLADENSBURG.
In Bladensburg the brigade halted for an hour, while those men who had
thrown away their knapsacks endeavoured to recover them. During this
interval I strolled up to a house which had been converted into an
hospital, and paid a hasty visit to the wounded. I found them in great
pain, and some of them deeply affected at the thought of being
abandoned by their comrades, and left to the mercy of their enemies.
Yet, in their apprehension of evil treatment from the Americans, the
event proved that they had done injustice to that people; who were
found to possess at least one generous trait in their character,
namely, that of behaving kindly and attentively to their prisoners.
As soon as the stragglers had returned to their ranks, we again moved
on, continuing to march without once stopping to rest during the whole
of the night. Of the fatigue of a night march none but those who have
experienced it can form the smallest conception. Oppressed with the
most intolerable drowsiness, we were absolutely dozing upon our legs;
and if any check at the head of the column caused a momentary delay,
the road was instantly covered with men fast asleep. It is generally
acknowledged that no inclination is so difficult to resist as the
inclination to sleep; but when you are compelled not only to bear up
against that, but to struggle also with weariness, and to walk at the
same time, it is scarcely possible to hold out long. By seven o’clock
in the morning, it was found absolutely necessary to pause, because
numbers had already fallen behind, and numbers more were ready to
follow their example; when throwing ourselves upon the ground, almost
in the same order in which we had marched, in less than five minutes
there was not a single unclosed eye throughout the whole brigade.
Piquets were of course stationed, and sentinels placed, to whom no rest
was granted, but, except these, the entire army resembled a heap of
dead bodies on a field of battle, rather than living men.
ARLBOROUGH
In this situation we remained till noon, when we were again roused to
continue the retreat. Though the sun was oppressively powerful, we
moved on without resting till dark, when having arrived at our old
position near Marlborough, we halted for the night. During this day’s
march we were joined by numbers of negro slaves, who implored us to
take them along with us, offering to serve either as soldiers or
sailors, if we would but give them their liberty; but as General Ross
persisted in protecting private property of every description, few of
them were fortunate enough to obtain their wishes.
We had now proceeded a distance of thirty-five miles, and began to
consider ourselves beyond the danger of pursuit. The remainder of the
retreat was accordingly conducted with more leisure; our next march
carrying us no farther than to Nottingham, where we remained during an
entire day, for the purpose of resting the troops. It cannot, however,
be said that this resting-time was spent in idleness. A gun-brig, with
a number of ships’ launches and long-boats, had made their way up the
stream, and were at anchor opposite to the town. On board the former
were carried such of the wounded as had been able to travel, whilst the
latter were loaded with flour and tobacco, the only spoil which we
found it practicable to bring off.
Whilst the infantry were thus employed, the cavalry was sent back as
far as Marlborough, to discover whether there were any American forces
in pursuit; and it was well for the few stragglers who had been left
behind that this recognizance was made. Though there appeared to be no
disposition on the part of the American General to follow our steps and
to harass the retreat, the inhabitants of that village, at the
instigation of a medical practitioner called Bain, bad risen in arms as
soon as we departed; and falling upon such individuals as strayed from
the column, put some of them to death, and made others prisoners. A
soldier whom they had taken, and who had escaped, gave information of
these proceedings to the troopers, just as they were about to return to
head-quarters; upon which they immediately wheeled about, and galloping
into the village, pulled the doctor out of his bed (for it was early in
the morning), compelled him, by a threat of instant death, to liberate
his prisoners; and mounting him before one of the party, brought him in
triumph to the camp.
ST. BENEDICT’S.
The wounded, the artillery, and plunder, being all embarked on the
28th, at daybreak on the 29th we took the direction of St. Benedict’s,
where we arrived, without any adventure, at a late hour in the evening.
Here we again occupied the ground of which we had taken possession on
first landing, passing the night in perfect quiet; and next day, the
boats of the fleet being ready to receive us, the regiments, one by
one, marched down to the beach. We found the shore covered with sailors
from the different ships of war, who welcomed our arrival with loud
cheers; and having contrived to bring up a larger flotilla than had
been employed in the disembarkation, they removed us within a few
hours, and without the occurrence of any accident, to our respective
vessels.
Such is a plain impartial account of the inroad upon Washington, an
affair than which the whole war produced none more brilliant or more
daring. In whatever light we may regard it, whether we look to the
amount of difficulties which it behoved him to overcome, the inadequacy
of the force which he commanded, or the distance which he was called
upon to march, in the midst of a hostile population, and through deep
and trackless forests, we cannot deny to General Ross the praise which
is his due, of having planned and successfully accomplished an
expedition which none but a sagacious mind could have devised, and none
but a gallant spirit carried into execution. Among the many important
transactions which then occupied the public attention, the campaign at
Washington was, I believe, but little spoken of; and even now, it is
overwhelmed in the recollections of the all-engrossing Waterloo; but
the time will probably come, when he who at the head of four thousand
men penetrated upwards of sixty miles into an enemy’s country;
overthrew an army more than double his own in point of numbers; took
possession of the capital of a great nation, and having held it as long
as it suited his own purposes to hold it, returned again in triumph to
his fleet, will be ranked, as he deserves to be ranked, among the
number of those who have most successfully contributed to elevate Great
Britain to the height of military glory on which she now stands.
It has been said that the entire merit of this brilliant expedition is
due, not so much to the brave man who conducted it, as to Sir George
Cockburn, at whose suggestion it was undertaken. To the great gallantry
and high talents of Sir George Cockburn no one who served within the
compass of the Bay of Chesapeake will refuse to bear testimony, nor is
it improbable that in attributing to him the original, design of laying
Washington itself under contribution, common report speaks truly. But
with whomsoever the idea first originated, to General Ross belongs the
undivided of having, carried it into effect. From Sir George Cockburn,
and indeed from the whole fleet, the army received every assistance
which it was in the power of the the fleet to bestow; but had no Ross
been at the head of the land forces, the capital of the United States
would have suffered no insult. I have ventured to make these remarks,
not with any design of taking away, in the slightest degree, from the
well-earned reputation of the living; but merely as an act of justice
towards the memory of the gallant dead, whose services have hardly
received all the notice, either from the Government or the country,
which they deserved.
Of the degree of military sagacity exhibited on both sides, during the
progress of hostilities, it scarcely becomes me to speak. Perhaps our
leader delayed something too long in making, up his mind as to the
ultimate end to be pursued, after the troop had penetrated so far into
the interior as Marlborough. Had he pushed on at once, it is barely
possible that Washington might have fallen at a less expense of human
life than actually occurred. Perhaps, too, he commenced the attack at
Bladensburg with a degree of precipitancy which hindered him from,
taking advantage of an open ford, and compelled him to expose his
troops to the fire of the enemy’s artillery whilst crossing a narrow
bridge in a single column. But these errors, if errors they may be
termed, were amply compensated by the perfect success of his
operations; whilst in every other particular his conduct was beyond the
reach of censure. In his choice of ground for halting, in the order
both of his advance and retreat, and in the rapidity of his movements
as soon as his plans had been arranged, General Ross exhibited himself
in the light of an able and diligent commander. No man could possess,
more than he a soldier’s eye in examining the face of a country; and in
what little manoeuvring the circumstances permitted, he displayed the
proficiency of one well practised in the arts of campaigning. It will
be recollected, that on the 23rd, the day previous to the battle, we
fell in with a strong body of the enemy, to deceive whom we wheeled off
from the main road, and took the direction of Alexandria. The plan was
attended by the most perfect success; the party deceived, being in fact
the advanced guard of the main army. Thinking that Alexandria, and not
Washington, was threatened, the American General abandoned a strong
position, which he had seized on the main road, harassed his troops by
a needless march towards that town; and discovered his mistake only
time enough to occupy the heights of Bladensburg a very few minutes
before we came in sight.
With respect to the Americans, again, criticism necessarily degenerates
into unqualified censure. From the beginning to the end of the affair,
they acted in no one instance like prudent or sagacious men. In the
first place, they ought on no account to have risked a general action
in an open country, however strong and steep; and, secondly, they
deserved to suffer much more severely than they did suffer, for
permitting an enemy’s army to penetrate beyond Nottingham. In allowing
us to land without opposition, they were perhaps guilty of no great
mistake; but having done so, instead of concentrating their forces in
one place, they ought to have harassed us with continual skirmishing;
felled trees on each side, and thrown them across the road; dug deep
ditches at certain intervals; in a word, it was their wisdom to adopt
the mode of warfare to which their own habits, as, well as the nature
of their country, invited them.
In America, every man is a marksman from his very boyhood, and every
man serves in the militia; but to bring an army of raw militia-men,
however excellent they might be as marksmen, into a fair field against
regular troops, could end in nothing but defeat. When two lines oppose
each other, very little depends upon the accuracy with which
individuals take aim. It is then that the habit of acting in concert,
the confidence which each man feels in his companions, and the rapidity
and good order in which different movements can be executed, are alone
of real service. But put these raw militia-men into thick woods, and
send your regular troops to drive them out, and you will immediately
lose all the advantages of discipline, and reduce your battle to so
many single combats.
Here, therefore, lay their principal error: had they left all clear,
and Permitted us to advance as far as Nottingham, then broken up the
roads, and covered them with trees, it would have been impossible for
us to go a step beyond. As soon as this was effected, they might have
skirmished with us in front, and kept our attention alive with part of
their troops, till the rest, acquainted as they doubtless were with
every inch of the country, had got into our rear, and, by a similar
mode of proceeding, cut off our retreat. Thus we should have been taken
in a snare, from which it would have been no easy task to extricate
ourselves, and might, perhaps, have been obliged in the end to
surrender at discretion.
But so obvious and so natural a plan of defence they chose to reject
and determining to trust all to the fate of a battle, they were guilty
of a monstrous error again. Bladensburg ought not to have been left
unoccupied. The most open village, if resolutely defended, will cost
many men before it falls; whereas Bladensburg, being composed of
substantial brick houses, might have been maintained for hours against
all our efforts. In the next place, they displayed great want of
military knowledge in the disposition of both their infantry and
artillery. There was not, in the whole space of their position, a
single point where an enemy would be exposed to a cross fire. The
troops were drawn up in three straight lines, like so many regiments
upon a gala parade; whilst the guns were used as connecting links to a
chain, being posted in the same order, by ones and twos, at every
interval.
In maintaining themselves, likewise, when attacked, they exhibited
neither skill nor resolution. Of the personal courage of the Americans
there can be no doubt; they are, individually taken, as brave a nation
as any in the world. But they are not soldiers; they have not the
experience nor the habits of soldiers. It was the height of folly,
therefore, to bring them into a situation where nothing except that
experience and those habits will avail; and it is on this account that
I repeat what I have already said, that the capture of Washington was
more owing to the blindness of the Americans themselves than to any
other cause.