Following Francis Scott Key

This week, Architectural Historian Rebecca Crew takes us on a tour of historic sites associated with Francis Scott Key, author of The Star-Spangled Banner. 

Following Francis Scott Key

In honor of the current winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia, this blog post will consider the author of our national anthem, Francis Scott Key, and the places that commemorate him. What is the Gold Medal place that best defines Francis Scott Key’s significance?

Portrait of Francis Scott Key, Courtesy of the Library of Congress

Francis Scott Key was born at Terra Rubra on August 1, 1779 in what was then part of Frederick County, but is part of Carroll County.  Terra Rubra is listed in the Maryland Inventory of Historic Properties as MIHP # CARR-2 and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places (NRHP) in 1978. Birthplaces of significant individuals are not normally listed on the NRHP, but Terra Rubra’s association with Francis Scott Key adds to its significance along with its representation of plantation architecture. The combination of NRHP Criterion B and C is likely what qualifies this place for NRHP listing.

Terra Rubra, Keymar, Maryland, birthplace of Francis Scott Key. Wikepedia

Key spent his early childhood at Terra Rubra, and then went to study in Annapolis at St. John’s College and Preparatory School. For seven years, he lived with his great-aunt and great-uncle at the Upton Scott House (MIHP # AA-726), which contributes to the NRHP-listed Annapolis Historic District (MIHP # AA-2046).  St. John’s College, chartered in 1784, was then contained within what is now known as McDowell Hall (MIHP # AA-675).  Key graduated in 1796 and St. John’s College now has a Key Memorial Hall on its campus, but it is a Modern structure designed by the renowned architect Richard Neutra that was not built until 1956-58, falling into the commemorative category of historic sites.

Upton Scott House in Annapolis. Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Key married in Annapolis in 1802, and spent some years in Frederick studying law.  Between 1805 and 1808, he purchased a house in Georgetown overlooking the Potomac River. This was Francis Scott Key’s residence when he wrote “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the accomplishment for which he is most-well known. 

A photograph of the Key Mansion before it was lost. Via

Francis Scott Key witnessed the bombing of Fort McHenry on the night of September 13-14, 1814 from the Chesapeake Bay.  Key was aboard the British gunship HMS Tonnant with Vice Admiral Cochrane, Rear Admiral Sir George Cockburn and Major General Robert Ross to negotiate the release of his friend, an Upper Marlboro physician named Dr. William Beanes. As part of the Star-Spangled Banner National Historic Trail, a red, white, and blue National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) buoy is located at Key’s approximate location during the bombardment. 

Courtesy of the Smithsonian Institution. Via

After the bombardment, Key was able to return to land. Many histories state that he stayed at a Baltimore hotel known as the Indian Queen Hotel, where he completed his poem.  The Indian Queen Hotel, then owned by John Gadsby (who had formerly owned a tavern in Alexandria, Virginia) was at the southeast corner of Hanover and Baltimore Streets, a site now occupied by the Brutalist-style Morris A. Mechanic  Theatre. Other histories say Key stayed at the Fountain Inn at the northeast corner of Light Street and Lovely Lane (now Redmond Street), which is now a surface parking lot.

In 1805, Key wrote a poem that included the words “star-spangled flag,” and he had set this to the tune “To Anacreon in Heaven” which was originally composed by John Stafford Smith, and had been re-worded as “Adams and Liberty” by Robert Treat Paine for the 1800 political campaign of John Adams. The Smith tune and Key’s new words about the Fort McHenry bombardment were closely tied from the beginning.

There are several explanations for how the poem was originally distributed. The first publishing of the poem, as a hand-bill, may have been produced by Benjamin Edes, a printer at the southwest corner of Baltimore and South Streets, former location of the Baltimore American.  On September 20, 1814, the Baltimore American published the “Defence (sic) of Fort McHenry.” The Baltimore American’s office was at No. 4 Harrison Street.

Key’s great-grandson claimed that soldiers at James MacConkey’s Tavern in Baltimore first sang Key’s poem in late September 1814, and its first public performance is said to have occurred next door to MacConkey’s Tavern at the Holliday Street Theater just a few days later; newspaper accounts verify this occurred October 19, 1814.  The Holliday Street Theatre was damaged by fire in 1873 and it, and the site of MacConkey’s Tavern as well, is now the site of Baltimore’s War Memorial Plaza. 

War Memorial Plaza, Baltimore. Via

Carr’s Music Store (then assigned the address 36 Baltimore Street) published the song (the poem and music together) in November 1814. The Carr family operated music stores in Philadelphia and New York as well as Baltimore, and the song spread quickly through the country, which was still at war with Britain.  36 Baltimore Street, at the northwest corner of Baltimore and Gay Street is now occupied by Baltimore City government’s Charles Enton Building (417 E. Fayette Street).  All these printing and performing sites in Baltimore City are located within the boundaries of the Business and Government Historic District (MIHP # B-3935), which was listed on the NRHP in 1987. 

While the Star-Spangled Banner remained popular after 1814, it did not immediately become our national anthem. During the Civil War, the Star Spangled Banner was the unofficial anthem of the U.S. Army, and around 1890, it became the official song of the U.S. Army and Navy. However, it was not until 1931, during President Herbert Hoover’s administration, that Congress resolved to make the Star-Spangled Banner the National Anthem.  The 117 years between the writing of Key’s poem and its adoption as the national anthem suggests that Key's significance to Americans was not widely recognized during his lifetime, and this is reflected in the varying preservation levels of places associated with his life.

Following the War of 1812, Francis Scott Key continued a life as a lawyer in Washington, DC, arguing cases at the Supreme Court, and serving as U.S. District Attorney from 1833-41. He also served as Vice President as the American Bible Society, was active in the American Colonization Society, and continued to write books and poems. His home during the later part of his life was The Maples, or Friendship House, at 630 South Carolina Avenue, SE, Washington, DC; it is still extant.

The Maples, Washington, D.C. Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Key died in 1843 in Baltimore, while visiting his daughter Elizabeth Key Howard; her house was on Mount Vernon Place in Baltimore. Key was originally buried at Old St. Paul’s Cemetery in Baltimore. Key's house on M Street in Georgetown was sold out of the Key family ca. 1853, and converted to commercial use. 

In 1866, Key was re-interred at Frederick’s Mount Olivet Cemetery. Around the same time, his boyhood home, Terra Rubra, was damaged by fire. The Howard Mansion, where Key died, was demolished and became the site of Mount Vernon Place Methodist Church in 1872. The Francis Scott Key Monument (MIHP # F-3-159) at Mount Olivet Cemetery was constructed in 1898 from funds collected by Maryland school children, and while it commemorates Key, it is significant under NRHP Criterion C as an example of the work of sculptor Pompeo Coppini.

Francis Scott Key Monument, Mount Olivet Cemetery

The house where Key had lived in 1814, at 3518 M Street in Georgetown, was sold out of the Key family ca. 1853, and converted to commercial use undergoing variations over time that eventually diminished its integrity of design, materials, and workmanship.  In 1907, the Francis Scott Key Memorial Association was established with the purpose of buying and preserving Key’s Georgetown house as a memorial to Key; the organization failed to acquire enough funds to purchase the house.  In 1923, a new bridge over the Potomac River connecting Georgetown and Rosslyn, Virginia was named for Francis Scott Key and located near 3518 M Street. This reinforced concrete arch bridge was added to the Virginia Landmarks Register in 1995 and to the NRHP in 1996 under Criterion C.  In 1931 the federal government acquired the 3518 M Street property as part of Palisades Park, but by this time, the house was too altered and in too poor condition to warrant preservation.  Francis Scott Key Park was established on the site in 1933.  

Francis Scott Key Memorial Bridge over the Potomac. Wikipedia

Baltimore’s own Francis Scott Key Monument, a sculpture by Jean Marius Antonin Mercie was erected at Eutaw Place and West Lanvale Street in 1911. 

Francis Scott Key Monument, Eutaw Place, Baltimore. Wikipedia

In 1925, Fort McHenry was made a National Park, and it was made a National Monument and Historic Shrine in 1939. It was added to the NRHP in 1966, the inaugural year of the list. Finally, the Maryland State Highway Administration bridge carrying I-695 over the Patapsco River in Baltimore County was completed in 1977. The bridge has not yet reached the age at which it will be evaluated for the NRHP (50 years). Named for Francis Scott Key, it was built by and continues to be maintained by the Maryland Transportation Authority. Its commemorative naming is appropriate given its location near the site where Key witnessed the bombardment of Fort McHenry.

Photo courtesy of the National Park Service

Francis Scott Key’s The Star-Spangled Banner has come along way from the Patapsco River to the current Olympics in Sochi, Russia. The anthem's lyricist also traveled extensively during his lifetime, although many of the places he lived and visited are no longer extant. Key's boyhood home, his college, and his late-life home remain to this day, and he is commemorated all across the nation in the names of schools, bridges, and monuments. Overall, though, this judge finds Baltimore deserves the Gold Medal for being the place where Francis Scott Key witnessed the bombardment of Fort McHenry, where he wrote the poem, where it was first printed, sung, and performed, and where Key died, was originally buried, and remains commemorated through impressive monuments. Despite the loss of actual buildings, the relationship of these points on the landscape preserves the association of Francis Scott Key and The Star-Spangled Banner.

***

Attack at Fort Norfolk

Here's a fascinating story of War of 1812 Archaeology in Virginia - please enjoy this article by Mark St. John Erickson, which originally appeared in the Hampton Roads History section of the Daily Press.

Williamsburg archaeologist Alain Outlaw knew he wouldn't have much time to dig when he won the chance to probe for a lost piece of historic Fort Norfolk in 2004.

Williamsburg archaeologist Alain Outlaw used this 1819 map of Fort Norfolk to describe the defensive palisade and ditch unearthed in a 2004 dig. (Courtesy of Archaeological & Cultural Solutions Inc. / June 24, 2013) via

He had only two weeks at first to carry out what looked like an impossible rescue job.

But not long after City of Norfolk workmen demolished a giant early 20th-century warehouse that covered his site, he and his team from Archaeological & Cultural Solutions Inc. unearthed the first signs of a defensive palisade that Virginia militiamen had hurriedly constructed to protect Fort Norfolk from a land attack after a massive British fleet pushed through the Chesapeake Bay in early 1813.

And like the archaeologists themselves trying to beat a tight deadline, the War of 1812 volunteers working under the direction of Army Corps of Engineers fortification expert Capt. Walter K. Armistead were really humping.

"We found dramatic physical evidence that they knew the British were coming -- and that they were rushing to build this palisade," Outlaw says, describing the discovery of an abandoned circa 1780 well that had been stuffed full of limbs trimmed from the timbers used to build the defensive wall.

Workers filled this abandoned circa 1780 well with lopped-off branches during the construction of the 1813 palisade wall at Fort Norfolk. (Courtesy of Archaeological & Cultural Solutions Inc. / June 24, 2013) via

"They looked just like they had been lopped off that afternoon. The state of preservation was incredible."
Outlaw says the discovery made during the preliminary site preparation for the construction of a downtown waterfront development project would not have been possible without the concerns raised by numerous Norfolk preservationists.

Equally important was the city's quick decision to fund a short-lived but productive archaeological investigation of the site before the irreplaceable evidence was lost.

"There wasn't very much time to do the job -- and everything that could have added to the challenge did," he recalls, citing hurricanes, flooding and other problems that dogged the dig.

"It was certainly one of the more amazing projects that I've been part of."

Once the city decided to go ahead with the dig, it dispatched workers and equipment to not only demolish and remove tons of debris but also pump out  as much as 8 feet of water that covered the site on a day-to-day basis.

And when the dig began turning up significant evidence from the historic fort, it gave Outlaw and his crew a third week in which to pursue their investigation.

By the end of that period they'd not only uncovered evidence of the palisade's hurried construction but also retraced more than 120 feet of its triangular path, including the apex. Alongside much of the wall were the accompanying ditches used to strengthen the riverside fort's landward defenses.

Dark stains trace the footprint of the palisade constructed on the landward side of Fort Norfolk in 1813 to protect against a British assault. (Courtesy of Archaeological & Cultural Solutions Inc. / June 24, 2013) via

"I have also directed works to be constructed for the better defence (sic) of the reverse of Fort Norfolk," wrote Virginia militia officer Andrew J. McConnico in a letter to the governor in early March 1813.

"And this morning I have begun entrenching the approaches to the Borough, and two hundred and eighty men, with a corresponding number of officers and non-commissioned officers, are now at work in the absence of the General."

With the previous destruction of War of 1812 fortifications at Craney Island and Fort Nelson, which complemented Fort Norfolk from the other side of the Elizabeth River, the discoveries made in 2004 represent  the only known surviving physical evidence of the land defenses constructed for the 1813 theater of operations in Virginia, Outlaw says.

They also have another distinction.

"These are the only professionally excavated archaeological finds from the War of 1812 in the state," he says.

"And especially with the bicentennial, it doesn't get any better than this in more then 40-plus years of working as an archaeologist."

You can find the previous installments in this series on the War of 1812 in Hampton Roads at dailypress.com/warof1812.

War of 1812: Patterson Park Edition

From Baltimore Heritage:

In 1814, Patterson Park was the site of Baltimore’s largest defense against a British land invasion during the Battle of Baltimore. This spring, Baltimore Heritage is leading an archaeological survey of the park to dig up more about this history and preserve the battlefield for future generations.

Join us on the evening of January 29 for an introduction to the project featuring a special presentation on the history of Hampstead Hill and Baltimore’s Eastern Defensive line by Baltimore historian Scott Sheads. We want to hear your questions about the history of the War of 1812 in Patterson Park before we go searching for the answers! For nearby residents around the park, this is a good opportunity to share any questions you may have about how the archaeology will affect the park and learn more our plans for getting the community out and involved.

More news about the forthcoming excavations can be found right here.

An Unusual Burial at Fort Meigs, Ohio

In his lengthy discussion of this find over at the Ohio Historical Society Archaeology blog, Bill Pickard mentions a phenomenon familiar to most archaeologists: you always find the most interesting and complicated stuff on the last day of fieldwork.

This was the case during an archaeological survey at the site of Fort Meigs' new visitor's center back in 2001. An earthmover stripped the topsoil from the site while archaeologists examined the exposed subsoil for evidence of pits or other features that might have been dug deep into the ground. As the backhoe cleared the last corner of the dig, someone spotted a piece of rusted metal. They thought it might have been a bit of shrapnel from an artillery bomb...but it turned out to be a horseshoe. You find a lot of horseshoes at historical archaeological sites, but they're usually not still attached to the horse.

Photo of the Fort Meigs horse burial, courtesy of Ohiohistory.org

In fact, there were two horses, one likely a large draft horse (nicknamed "Big Horse" by the excavators), the other a smaller, lighter cavalry horse (nicknamed, naturally, "Little Horse"). Initially, the archaeologists were hesitant to make too much of the discovery. Soldiers had horses, and horses died in battles. All those horses had to end up somewhere, right? But the more they thought about it, the more questions they had. The horses are facing each other, their limbs crossed - was this accidental, just the way the animals fell into the burial pit? Or were they deliberately arranged in this face-to-face position, and if so, why? Why were these two animals buried together? And why were they buried at all? Isn't that a lot of effort? Wouldn't cremation be easier?

More details from Bill Pickard's discussion of the burial at Ohiohistory.org:

Aside from the obvious size difference, there were other features that defined the two animals, in particular their shoes. Big Horse was a large, robust animal, possibly even a mule. Its shoes were large, thick items with aggressive calks, well suited for an animal tasked with heavy lifting and pulling. The shoes appeared to be individually forged items as they were slightly different one to the next, made and fitted for this particular animal. There were just three shoes recovered with Big Horse, the two rear shoes and the right front shoe. The left front shoe was missing but nail fragments immediately below that hoof indicates it was removed after the horse was down. Their non-standard design tends to rule out that it was removed as a replacement or a spare for another horse. Little Horse was about three quarters the size of its partner with a much more gracile skeletal structure. A single left rear shoe was recovered with this animal. Unlike the bold nature of the shoes on Big Horse, this shoe was small, thin and almost flat, a shoe likely built for running or speed and not for heavy exertions. Iron nail fragments found adjacent to the right front hoof strongly indicates, as in the case of its larger companion, that the shoe had been removed sometime after Little Horse had been put down. It’s an interesting phenomenon, and after the passage of nearly two hundred years it’s hard to say exactly what the motivation might have been to remove the shoes from the horses.

A further curiosity was uncovered as they began removing the bones from the burial spot: a complete pig's head (but just the head) had been buried along with the horses in the pit. So: two horses, buried together, each having had a single shoe removed, accompanied by the head of a pig. Was this a commonplace disposal of animal remains, or is there something more to it?

These are (according to the Fort Meigs museum) the first horses ever recovered from a War of 1812 archaeological site. There is even a video about their discovery. Can somebody in Ohio please go and watch the video and tell us more?

A Scourge of Mussels

Haunting and fascinating photos over at National Geographic showing photographs of War of 1812 shipwrecks before and after the arrival of invasive quagga mussels. I had no idea mussels ate archaeology! See more over at the Hamilton and Scourge National Historic Site.

Two hundred years ago today, as the United States, Great Britain, and Canada were embroiled in the War of 1812, a sudden storm hit Lake Ontario with a fury. It proved fatal for two of the ships among a U.S. Naval fleet in Sackett's Harbor: the Hamilton and the Scourge.Though nearby vessels managed to save 16 of the crew, at least 53 perished as the ships sank below the waves. The armed schooners came to rest upright and remarkably intact—masts and all—about 1,500 feet (460 meters) apart and 300 feet (90 meters) deep.
The wrecks, discovered in 1973, are the best-preserved examples of their kind, says Parks Canada senior underwater archaeologist Jonathan Moore. Both were originally built as merchant schooners, then modified to serve as warships.
The figurehead on the Hamilton depicts Diana, the Roman goddess of hunting, who was the 67-foot-long (20-meter-long) ship's original namesake when it was built for New York merchant Matthew McNair in 1809. Shortly after the War of 1812 began, the ship was purchased by U.S. Navy Commodore Isaac Chauncey for his fleet on Lake Ontario and renamed in honor of Navy Secretary Paul Hamilton.
—Amanda Fiegl

Photograph by Emory Kristof, National Geographic

Archaeology Takes Back Loser's Day

The town of Essex, Connecticut has something in common with Bladensburg, Maryland: both were invaded by the British in 1814, and neither town came out of the engagement covered in glory.

Late one April night 1814, a British raiding party rowed six miles up the Connecticut River to burn the privateers of Essex, then known as Pettipaug. Within six hours, they had torched 27 ships and taken or destroyed thousands of dollars’ worth of rigging materials and had, according to history, met little to no resistance. The raid resulted in the single greatest loss to American shipping of the entire war.

Detail from the map Connecticut, from actual survey, Hartford, CT: Hudson & Goodwin, 1811 – University of Connecticut Libraries’, Map and Geographic Information Center (MAGIC) -  Via.

You can read a more in-depth account of the attack on Pettipaug/Essex here at ConnecticutHistory.org.

Essex has a sense of humor about the event now known as The Great Attack. Every second Saturday in May, there is a parade down Main Street. It is led by the Sailing Masters of 1812, dressed in period U.S. naval uniforms, and they march to the waterfront at the Connecticut River Museum (site of the British landing), accompanied by fifes and drums, to raise the flag in commemoration of an event now known as "Loser's Day." Maybe now it can be "At Least We Tried" Day?

But now, an archaeological project is bringing new evidence to light - evidence that suggests the British met more resistance at Pettipaug than originally thought. This story about 1812 Archaeology in the news by Eric Hesselberg comes from The Hartford Courant, and was printed September 30, 2013:

OLD SAYBOOK — Archaeologists have found evidence of a shipwreck in the Connecticut River that could be linked to a 200-year-old battle in which the British set fire to 25 ships in Essex harbor, the largest maritime loss of the War of 1812.

The wreck lies in several feet of water off Watrous Point, a mile south of Essex harbor, and is indicated by a "ballast pile," an oblong mound of stones that were once in the ship's hold for stability. The stones remained after the hull disintegrated. 

Under gray skies Friday, archaeologists from the University of Connecticut and the Mashantucket Pequot Research Center stood waist deep in the chilly river water removing hundreds of pounds of the ballast stone to the reach the hull beneath. Waves from passing boats jostled the crews as they struggled to keep their footing. 

Two hours in the water yielded only some fragments of charred wood and a rusty nail, which were bagged for further examination. The team plans to return with a suction dredge in coming days to remove more mud and debris, believed to be covering the ship's timbers. 

"With archaeology, what you don't find can be just as important as what you do find," said UConn archaeologist Kevin McBride, who is leading the project along with battlefield historian Jerry Roberts, former executive director of the Connecticut River Museum. 

Roberts and McBride, who is also Research Director of the Mashantucket Pequot Museum, are working to identify battlefields linked to the Essex Raid, which took place April 8, 1814, two years into the War of 1812. The project is funded by a grant to the Connecticut River Museum in Essex from the Battlefield Protection Program of the National Parks Service. It seeks to have an area on both sides of the Connecticut River between Essex and Saybrook Point designated as a battle site on the National Register of Historic Places. 

Roberts is also writing a book on the subject for Wesleyan University Press, which is due out next spring. 

In Old Saybrook, the researchers are trying to determine whether the wreck is the long-lost privateer, Young Anaconda, which was captured by the British and later sunk. The 300-ton brig had run aground while British marines were attempting to tow her downriver as a prize. It was later set ablaze. 

"This fits the location for our ship really well," said Roberts, adding that if some of the hull can be recovered, construction details can be used to determine whether it was a privateer. "Privateers were built quickly and cheaply, so we should be able to find evidence of that," Roberts said. 

UConn marine archaeologist Kroum Batchvarov, a leading authority on shipwrecks, is assisting with the investigation. 

"My firm belief is that you have a shipwreck with a ballast pile like this," Batchvarov said. "There is a ship here. I don't know where it is, but it's here." 

Digging on a nearby lawn has turned up more than 20 musket balls, fueling speculation that the wreck is the American privateer. "There was some major action here," McBride said. 

Roberts learned of the shipwreck several months ago from the property's owner, Andrew Carr, who spotted the ballast pile years ago while building a dock. A boater, himself, he said the location of the stones made it unlikely that they were anything else by a shipwreck. 

"I heard Jerry talk about the Essex Raid and how the British captured a ship and then burned it right about here, and I thought this just might be the one," Carr said. 

The British Raid on Essex was prompted by the harassing of British ships by American privateers during the War of 1812, some sailing out of Essex, then a center of shipbuilding and trade. Connecticut skippers had turned to privateering to recoup their losses from the British blockade of Long Island Sound. 

In this government-sanctioned piracy, captains were issued "letters of marque," allowing them to seize enemy ships as prizes that were then sold at auction, with the profits divided among ship owners, captain, crew and the government. 

The success of Essex privateers drove the British to respond with a bold attack on the night of April 8, 1814, when 136 Royal Marines stormed ashore and proceeded to set fire to the town's fleet, some vessels still on the stocks being built. 

The traditional view was that Essex, then known as Pettipaug, gave up without a fight, and the town for years has marked the day with a parade and celebration locals refer to as Loser's Day. 

Roberts and McBride are helping to change that view. Both the Americans and the British, they believe, fought valiantly. 

"I'm an historian – I'm about story," Roberts said. "But in order to verify this battle site, you need archaeology. Kevin will tell you that without artifacts you can't prove that a story really happened. So we make a good team."

Check out some photos of the shipwreck exploration over here at the Hartford Courant. 

The Madisons' Missed Connections

Continued from the last post (Dolley's Difficult Run), Architectural Historian Matt Manning concludes this tour of Dolley & James Madison's travels through Washington, Maryland and Virginia in the aftermath of the British attack on the U.S. capital. 

Wednesday, August 24, 1814

In the morning, James Madison receives a plea from General William Winder, commander of the American forces in defense of Washington, requesting the president’s urgent counsel. Madison first rides to Winder’s camp southeast of the President’s House where he meets with members of his cabinet, including Secretary of State James Monroe, Secretary of the Navy William Jones, Attorney General Richard Rush, Secretary of the Treasury George Campbell, and Secretary of War John Armstrong. From there, Madison continues to Bladensburg to meet with General Winder as British troops approach the town from the southeast. Before departing Washington, he gives instructions to his wife, Dolley, to abandon the President’s House should the imminent battle turn for the worse.

In the intense afternoon heat, Madison watches above Bladensburg as the battle unfolds. He moves back as the fighting intensifies, and turns to retreat when British forces disrupt the American lines and the poorly trained American militia is unable to regroup and turn back the battle-hardened British regulars.

The battle lost and the American army in disarray, Madison makes his way back to Washington. He stops briefly at the President’s House around four o’clock to find his wife has already left for Bellevue. In Washington, Madison is joined by Brigadier General John T. Mason, Richard Rush, and other aides. Madison’s initial plan called for the group to reconvene in Frederick, Maryland, in the event that Washington would fall, but he at some point reconsidered. (Missing from the rendezvous are Armstrong and Campbell, who were apparently not advised of the change in plans; both traveled to Frederick.) Without time to reach Dolley at Bellevue, Madison sends word for the First Lady to meet him at Foxall Foundry; however, when he finds the road crowded with refugees, he again changes plans, calling for the parties to regroup at Wiley’s Tavern in Virginia.

Unable to continue northwest beyond Georgetown, Madison travels to Virginia via Mason’s Ferry, which crosses the Potomac River at present-day Theodore Roosevelt Island.

A map of Mason’s Ferry as it appeared in 1818, just a few years after James Madison’s flight from Washington. The ferry was established by George Mason IV in 1748 when he was granted a charter by the state of Virginia. The ferry, which crossed from Georgetown to the Virginia shore, incorporated the northern tip of a large island Mason’s father had purchased in 1717. In the 1790s, John Mason, who would later travel with James Madison from Washington following the Battle of Bladensburg, constructed a Neoclassical-style summer estate on the island. The estate incorporated landscaped terraces south of the house, planting fields to the north, and an allee of trees along the road between the ferry and the house. The ferry itself included boats or flat-bottomed scows powered at different times by cable or livestock. In 1807, a causeway replaced the boat crossing that originally linked the island with Virginia. The island was occupied by Union Troops during the Civil War and was afterward used for a variety of recreational purposes before it was transformed as a memorial to Theodore Roosevelt in the 1930s. Robert King's 1818 map, courtesy of The C&O Canal Companion, JHU Press. 

Arriving in Virginia shortly before sunset, Madison confers with his aides about the next appropriate course of action. Accounts of the President’s movements at this stage are few, provided primarily by Paul Jennings, Madison’s teenaged slave, who is left to follow on foot, and by others who later claimed to have seen him at various points along his route.

Madison, seeking information regarding British troop movements and the location of the American forces, travels first to Wren’s Tavern in Falls Church.

Wren’s Tavern is no longer standing, but during the early 1800s, it was an important stopping point for those traveling between Virginia and Washington, D.C. The tavern was constructed by Colonel James Wren (1728-1815), who served in the Revloutionary War. Wren was also the architect of several churches, including Falls Church, for which the City of Falls Church was later named. Thomas Jefferson mentioned the inn in letters to both his daughter and James Madison, calling it a “very decent house” with “respectable people” and suggesting that Madison breakfast there on his route from Washington to Monticello. The tavern functioned as an unofficial headquarters for the Virginia militia during the War of 1812; Colonel Minor, of Minor’s Hill, received his orders at the tavern and reported there with his militia before traveling to the defense of Washington. Photo courtesy of the Historic Marker Database.

After a brief stop, Madison’s entourage continues north, stopping at Minor’s Hill but finding the estate full of other refugees. Perhaps hoping to intercept his wife on her route from Georgetown to Wiley’s Tavern, Madison pushes on to Salona, the home of William and Ann Carter Maffit, friends of the Madisons.

Salona is a Federal-style brick dwelling south of Dolley Madison Boulevard in northeast McLean, Virginia. The house, with a unique T-shaped entrance hall, may have been constructed by Rev. William Moffitt when he purchased the 466-acre tract in 1812. Moffitt was a Presbyterian minister and schoolteacher in Maryland and Virginia. According to legend, Maffitt’s ghost can still be seen riding around Salona on the white horse he frequently used while making pastoral visits to the homes surrounding his farm. During the Civil War, the grounds were occupied by the Union Army as Camp Griffin, and the house served as headquarters for General William “Baldy” Smith. The house still stands today, although residential development has replaced the farmland that formerly surrounded the estate. Photo by Shamus Ian Fatzinger for the Fairfax County Times.

Thursday, August 25

Madison awakes at Salona without news of his wife and unaware that she has just passed the night barely more than a mile away at Rokeby. The President returns to Wren’s Tavern hoping for new information about the status of the capital and the location of British and American forces. At the tavern, he finds Captain George Graham, who provides the President with an armed guard. Madison, perhaps growing desperate for news about Dolley, once more turns toward Salona. Upon arriving back at the Maffitt estate, he discovers he has just missed his wife. William Jones, travelling with the First Lady, has left word that the group has continued to Wiley’s Tavern.

Some reports state that the Madisons had planned to meet at Salona, and not Wiley’s Tavern. This may explain why Madison travels north to Salona and does not continue on a direct route to Wiley’s from Wren’s Tavern and why he later returns to the estate to look for his wife. Although Dolley stops only a mile from Salona, the route from Rokeby may have been judged too dark and crowded to travel any farther.

Following Dolley’s route, but now several hours behind, Madison, Rush, and their armed escort are caught in a violent storm and forced to take shelter at a crossroads. Back in Washington, the same storm reportedly lifts British artillery from the ground and tears roofs from public buildings and residences; even as it extinguishes the fires, the drenching rain fractures the walls of the fledgling capital’s stone buildings.

When the storm abates, the President continues to Wiley’s Tavern, finally arriving around seven o’ clock. Drenched and tired, his reunion with Dolley is fleeting; it is believed that the British have followed Madison into Virginia, and the President leaves sometime after midnight to join the American forces at Montgomery Courthouse in Maryland. 

Friday, August 26th

Madison, now accompanied by Rush, Jones, Mason, and others, travels north to cross the Potomac River at Conn’s Ferry. Upon arriving, they discover the river is swollen from the storm, and the ferryman will not provide passage until the relative safety of morning light. Stuck in Virginia, the party finds shelter nearby and waits for first light.

In the morning, the group crosses the Potomac and continues eight miles to Montgomery Courthouse (present-day Rockville, Maryland). They arrive to discover that General Winder and the American troops have already broken camp and are en route to Baltimore. The presidential party travels eleven more miles but is unable to catch up to Winder before reaching Brookeville, Maryland, late Friday evening.

The residents of Brookeville, a small Quaker community, are opposed to the war, and the President supposedly has trouble finding a place to rest before being taken in by Caleb and Henrietta Bentley. Madison reportedly spends the night at a desk, receiving messages and writing dispatches into the early morning, getting little sleep. 

The Brookeville home of Caleb and Henrietta Bentley as it appears today. The Federal-style Madison House, as it came to be called, was probably constructed between 1798 and 1804 by Caleb Bentley. A wealthy silversmith, merchant, and landowner, Bentley was commissioned in 1793 to create one of the four cornerstones of the U.S. Capitol. He was later appointed by Thomas Jefferson as Brookeville’s first postmaster in 1802. Bentley opened a store the same year, said to be in a wing of the Madison House and to include the post office. Dolley Madison, who was born a Quaker, may have been acquainted with Henrietta Bentley, prompting Madison to seek her out when he arrived in Brookeville. The Bentleys sold the property in 1819, and it was occupied by a long succession of different owners. The house still stands in its original location along Market Street and was the winner of the Washington Post’s Historic Home Contest in October 2012.  Photo courtesy of David O. Stewart. 

Saturday, August 27th

During the night, Madison receives word that the British have retreated from the capital and it is safe to return to Washington. He writes to James Monroe, who arrives in Brookeville Saturday morning. That afternoon, Madison prepares to travel the 18 miles south back to Washington. Over the last three days, he has travelled approximately 70 miles through stifling heat, a violent storm, and sleepless nights. It is an impressive journey for a 5 ½ foot tall, 63 year old man frequently described as “feeble,” “pale,” or “sickly” throughout his life. With the young nation in disarray, Madison’s greatest challenge was perhaps still ahead.