The Capture and Burning of Washington: Ross and Baltimore

It was not the design of the British to hold the territory which they had, unexpectedly to themselves, acquired. Indeed, the whole movement up the Chesapeake was originally intended as a feint, -- a menace of Baltimore and Washington, to engage the attention of the government and people, and to draw in that direction the military force of the country, while the far more important measure of invading Louisiana with a formidable force and taking possession of the Mississippi Valley should be matured and executed. Accordingly, when Winder's forces were defeated and routed, the President and his Cabinet driven from the national capital, and the public buildings destroyed, the invaders retreated precipitately, evidently in the fear of a reactive blow. While the British cabinet, judging from metropolitan influence in European countries, were disposed to believe that, with the loss of their capital, the Americans would consider all gone, and would yield in despair to their victor, those conquerors, on the spot, saw too well the danger to be apprehended from the spirit of a people aroused to greater exertions, and with more united energy, because of that very misfortune.

Impressed with a sense of this danger, Ross and Cochrane moved away with their forces with great secrecy on the night of the 25th of August, after ordering every inhabitant of Washington to remain within-doors from sunset to sunrise, on pain of death, and increasing their camp-fires, so as to deceive the Americans. It was immediately after the passage of a terrific tempest of wind, lightning, and rain, during which houses were unroofed and trees were uprooted. Softly these victors stole away in the gloom. "No man spoke above his breath," says one of the British officers who was present. "Our very steps were planted lightly, and we cleared the town without exciting observation." At midnight, just as the moon arose and cast a pale light over the scenes, they passed the battle-field and Bladensbug, leaving their dead unburied, and full ninety of their wounded to the humanity of Commodore Barney and his men. It was humiliating to the British troops thus to steal away in the dark from the field of their conquest. They moved sullenly onward, so wearied with fatigue and loss of sleep that when the columns halted for a few minutes the roads would be filled with sleeping soldiers. At seven o'clock in the morning, finding themselves but little annoyed by pursuers, they halted for rest and refreshments for several hours. At noon they moved forward, encamped at Marlborough, and, marching leisurely, reached Benedict on the 29th, where they embarked on the transports the next day.

This invasion was followed by a similar one directed against Baltimore. On September 6 Cockburn's fleet sailed up the Chesapeake, and entered the Patapsco on the IIth. Nine thousand men were landed at North Point, twelve miles below Baltimore. They found their task more difficult than that at Washington. General Ross was mortally wounded by a sharp-shooter, and for three hours the British were successfully resisted by three thousand volunteers, under General Stricker. Finally their right wing was turned, and they were forced to fall back. The invaders followed on the next day, but, finding their opponents reinforced and strongly posted, they did not venture on an attack, but withdrew in the darkness of the ensuing night.

Meanwhile, the fleet for twenty-four hours bombarded Fort McHenry and the adjoining intrenchments, from a distance beyond the reach of the guns of the fort. At night the fleet landed a force to attack the forts in the rear. It was met, however, with a shower of red-hot shot, and forced to retreat with severe loss. This ended the effort, and Cockburn retired with the fleet and army.]