Suddenly a little puff of smoke curled up from where Sukey was crouched, and the crack of a rifle rang out.  The officer in his gay uniform dropped his sword and fell from his saddle, while Sukey took a small day book from his pocket and wrote “nine” in it.

Fernando’s company fell back to Bladensburg, where he deployed them so as to cover the Americans’ line, and awaited the approach of the enemy.

It was afternoon before they advanced, and the skirmishers for ten minutes held them in check, then, as they fell back to the main line, Fernando saw Sukey write “twelve” in his book.  The fight began in earnest just below Bladensburg in an old field.  The roar of cannon and rattling crash of musketry filled the air.  General Winder, who had been in Washington the night before, returned just before the battle began.  The militia broke and fled in confusion; and the brave Barney, with Captain Stevens’ riflemen, sustained the brunt of the battle, until Barney was severely wounded, when Winder, seeing no hope of winning a victory, ordered a retreat.  The troops remaining fell back toward Montgomery Courthouse, in Maryland, leaving the battlefield in possession of the invaders.  The battle had lasted more than four hours, and the victory was won at fearful cost, for more than five hundred Britons were dead or wounded on the field, among them several officers of distinction, Sukey had added several numbers in his book.

The president and his secretaries of war and state had come to witness the conflict and give assistance if possible.  When the day was lost, they mounted swift horses and dashed back to the city.  Terrence, who had captured the steed of a British officer, overtook the president’s advance party.  Whipping his horse alongside the president, he cried: 

“Misther Madison, wasn’t that as illegant a knock down as iver a man saw in all his life?  I enjoy such.”

“How are we to save Washington without an army?” cried the president, whose mind was wholly occupied with the safety of the capital.

To this, Terrence responded with his stereotyped: 

“Lave it all to me.”

Mrs. Madison, at the White House, had already been apprised of danger, by a messenger sent by her husband on the flight of the militia.  Her carriage was at the door ready for flight, and she had already sent away to a place of safety silver plate and other valuables.  While waiting anxiously for her husband, she cut out of the frame for preservation a full length portrait of Washington, by Stuart.  At this moment, her husband’s messengers, Mr. Jacob Barker and another man, entered the house.  Mr. Barker cried: 

“Fly, Mrs. Madison, the day is lost, and the British are coming!”

“Where is my husband?” she asked.

“Safe, and he will join you beyond the Potomac.”

Pointing to Washington’s picture on the floor, she cried: 

“Save that picture! save or destroy it, but do not let it fall into the hands of the British!”