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THE TAKING OF THE CITY OF WASHINGTON IN AMERICA

THE CYTOF WASHINGTON THE CAPITAL OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA WAS TAKEN HY THE BRITISH FORCES UNDER MORGEN Hass On Auge when bunday their Dock

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THE CAPTURE OF WASHINGTON, 1814

An examination of the curious old print reproduced on opposite page, in connection with the Hon. Horatio King's paper, on the "Battle of Bladensburg," will be found amusing and instructive. The circumstances under which it was prepared and published deserve a few words of introduction to show the state of English feeling at the time.

August 1, 1814, was a great day in London. It was the centenary of the accession of the house of Brunswick to the throne, the anniversary of the battle of the Nile, and was set apart for a day of popular jubilation on the final overthrow of Napoleon and the conclusion of peace. The fact that a promising little war was still in progress with the United States did not mar the festivities of the occasion, and a mimic naval battle was fought between British and American fleets on the Serpentine River, in Hyde Park, in the presence of an enormous multitude, the engagement ending after dark in total destruction by fire of the whole American squadron. Of course there was a grim irony about this version of a sea fight, considering the successes of American maritime arms, but that made no difference to the multitude, and when, a few days later, the news of the capture of Washington was received in London, popular rejoicing reached a high pitch of enthusiasm.

A complete file of London papers is not at hand, but the earliest mention. found of the receipt of the welcome news bears date October 14, and acknowledges the receipt of New York papers to include September 4. It is, therefore, evident that the engraving reproduced herewith must have been executed with extraordinary dispatch, and rushed upon the market before popular enthusiasm over the event had time to cool off.

The original engraving-the property of Mr. Charles Ledyard Norton of this city-measures 13 inches by 18 inches exclusive of the two inscriptions. It was, no doubt, engraved by hand on copper, and if issued, as the imprint states, on October 14 (the very day, as it happens, on which the official news seems to have been received in London), the exploit speaks well for the enterprise of the publishers. Even in its largely reduced form the quaint absurdities of the picture are obvious. In the original they are far more conspicuous, and speak highly for the patriotism and topographical recklessness of the artist, whose name unfortunately does not appear. We will not go into details, but merely call attention to the fact that only four Americans and a fraction are in sight, and these are apparently citizens without arms.

N. L. C.

THE FIGHT AT FAYAL*

[The story of this remarkable naval battle in neutral waters, has we believe never before been told in verse. It presents a truthful picture of the scene, and records one of the noblest examples

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Before the sun had set that day,

Six British war ships held the bay;

Two thousand red-coats gave their cries,

For Admiral Lloyd and his "Yankee" prize.

The sun goes down, the sea is still,
The great grim hulls grow black, until
Like bands of thunder-clouds they lie,
Their dusky spars against the sky.

The Armstrong's men with unkempt hair,
And brawny arms, are here and there
Engaged in whispers hushed and low :
"Will they come?" "Dare they strike the blow?"

The rising moon a pathway casts
Across the sea; the shadowy masts
Of the Armstrong bend and wave and meet
The hostile hulls, and slow retreat.

The spars and yards of the British lie,
By moonlight silvered on the sky;
The watch is seen in his silent rounds,
And "all is well" distinct resounds.

"Prepare for action!" passed the word,
And in that voice to all who heard
Was strength to strike, to die if need
For home and ship-'twas Captain Reid.

"My lads," he said, "the Armstrong lies
In neutral seas, unlawful prize,

But if the British start the fight
We'll win or sink her from our sight!"

In silence as the twilight passed,

The seamen manned the guns, and cast
Their eyes upon the fleet, but all
Was peacefulness in port Fayal.

A shadow! what! it rises, falls;

A waving form, it leaves the walls

Of oak, and snake-like moves along ;

No fife, no drum-there's something wrong!

Four boats approach with muffled oars, With measured beat, and steady rowers; Then Captain Reid with firm voice cries: "Boats ahoy!"-no voice replies.

Once more he hails; again, again
He calls, but all is still; his men
Can see the forms, can hear the breath,
As panting, on they glide toward death.

Oppressive silence as before,

The rowers cease; then on once more; The time has come, the words inspire: "Your places men; stand steady; fire!"

The cannons roar, the muskets flash,
The waters surge, the timbers crash ;
Mid clouds of smoke, mid leaden hail,
From mangled, dying, comes a wail.

The Admiral now is in a rage,
Five hundred men will soon engage
The reckless little privateer

To end its bold and brave career.

A second snaky shadow creeps

Along the waves, young Reid now leaps Upon the rail and gives the call

An echo answers, that is all.

A moment and again they near,

The cannons roar, but with a cheer
The British bend their oars, and go
Like Roman galleys for the foe.

The ship is theirs; they climb the sides;
They swarm about her as she rides

At anchor; never shall men say,
"One vessel kept a fleet at bay!"

A head appears, another there,

From stem to stern, they're everywhere,
But everywhere a seaman stands,
A trusty bayonet in his hands.

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