They were on the ship Surprise, and, upon making their plea for their captive friend, were told that he had inflicted atrocious injuries upon British soldiers, and the Admiral had resolved to hang him from the yard-arm.  The eloquence of Mr. Key, supplemented by letters written by British officers to Dr. Beanes, thanking him for the many kindnesses which they had received from him, finally won Admiral Cochrane from his vengeful decision.  After the release of the captive the Americans were not permitted to return to land, lest they might carry information detrimental to the British cause.  Thus Admiral Cochrane, who enjoyed well-merited distinction for doing the wrong thing, placed his unwilling guests in their own boat, the Minden, as near the scene of action as possible, with due regard for their physical safety, in order that they might suffer the mortification of seeing their flag go down.  Two hours had been assigned, in the British mind, for the accomplishment of that beneficent result, after which “terms for Baltimore” might be considered.

For three days Key and his companions watched the landing of nine thousand soldiers and marines at North Point, preparatory to the attack on the fort, which was defended by a small force of raw militia, partly composed of the men who had been so easily defeated at Bladensburg.  They were under command of Colonel George Armistead, who faced a court-martial if he should not win, for the Washington administration had peremptorily ordered him to surrender the fort.

Through the long hours of the 13th Key paced the deck of his boat, watching the battle with straining eyes and a heart that thrilled and leaped and sank with every thunder of gun and flash of shell.  The day was calm and still, with no wind to lift the flag that drooped around its staff over Fort McHenry.  At eventide a breeze unfurled its folds, and as it floated out a shell struck it and tore out one of its fifteen stars.

Night fell.  His companions went below to seek rest in such unquiet slumbers as might visit them, but there was no sleep in the heart of Key.  Not until the mighty question which filled the night sky with thunder and flame and surged in whelming billows through his own soul found its answer in the court of Eternal Destiny could rest come to the man who watched through the long hours of darkness, waiting for dawn to bring triumph or despair.

Silence came—­the silence that meant victory and defeat.  Whose was the victory?  The night gave no answer, and the lonely man still paced up and down the deck of the Minden.  Then day dawned in a glory in the east, and a glory in the heart of the anxious watcher.  In that first thrill of joy and triumph our majestic anthem was formed.