In the afternoon of Aug. 24, 1814, First Lady Dolley Madison wrote in her journal: “We have had a battle…near Bladensburg, and I am still here within sound of the cannon!”
Within a few hours, that cannonade would come steadily closer until the British 3rd Brigade marched into Washington, D.C., virtually uncontested and proceeded to burn the city’s public buildings, including the Capitol, the chambers of the Senate and House of Representatives, the Treasury Department and the War Office.
Adm. George Cockburn himself helped his men loot the White House — who purportedly sat down and helped themselves to President James Madison’s still-warm dinner — before setting the seat of democracy ablaze.
The following day, the arson continued until a serendipitous squall of rain extinguished the flames. The massive storm then spawned a rare tornado that, according to the National Weather Service, killed more British soldiers than American guns did during their brief occupation of D.C.
In just 10 days, the British had penetrated enemy territory, won a battle against a larger army and captured and burned the enemy’s capital — all at the loss of fewer than 300 men, according to historian Rick Britton.
Two years into the War of 1812, the ransacking of the capital was a national embarrassment, with an incensed Madison demanding the resignation of Secretary of War John Armstrong Jr. as the city lay smoldering.
It was an unmitigated military disaster, save for a small band of U.S. Marines whose desperate defense of the nation’s capital allowed for the Declaration of Independence — and the president — to be whisked away to safety.
A final stand
It was close to noon on Aug. 24 when a 4,500-man British army finally marched within sight of Bladensburg, Maryland. At just nine miles northeast of Washington, D.C., the seemingly vacant river town gave Maj. Gen. Robert Ross a commanding view of the American forces just across the Anacostia River.
The Americans — mostly untested and under-equipped — were strung out along three stacked lines. Hastily dispatched from all across the eastern seaboard to intercept the British, the men chaotically attempted to fall in line, standing facing the river’s only bridge.
There they stood in the open field and waited.
Earlier that morning, according to Britton, Madison had received a message from the sleep-deprived William H. Winder, one of the two brigadier generals tasked with defending Washington.
As Madison later put it, that morning Winder required the “the speediest counsel” from Madison.
At a subsequent meeting at Winder’s camp — attended by most of the cabinet secretaries — it was reported that the British were marching on Washington via Bladensburg.
Secretary of War Armstrong Jr., silent for most of the meeting, finally spoke up, saying, according to a later memorandum from Madison, that the American militiamen — roughly 7,000 strong but varying wildly in quality, training and enthusiasm — “would be beaten” by “Wellington’s Invincibles,” seasoned soldiers so named for their string of successes against Napoleon.
According to Britton, Madison, upset at Armstrong’s remark, instructed him to join Winder at Bladensburg, while also promising to be on the battlefield himself, should there be any “difficulty on the score of authority.”
Winder, according to the U.S. Naval Institute, “made and unmade plans, shuffled units around, and wore himself as thin as his straggling army.” Things were not improved by the presence of Madison and his Cabinet, “to whose ‘officious but well-intentioned information and advice’ the general was compelled to listen,” wrote historian Benton J. Lossing.
As Washington’s most senior leaders dashed off to Bladensburg, so too did Cmdr. Joshua Barney, mustering a group of 103 Marines and flotillamen from the Washington Navy Yard.
Even as the Marines took their positions at the center of the third line, the British attacked.
The first wave of British troops, repelled by cannon and rifle fire fell back, before a second wave managed to cross the bridge. Panicked, the first line of American troops turned and fled.
Charles Ball, an escaped enslaved worker that Barney took into his flotilla, noted that the militia “ran like sheep chased by dogs.”
The second line of defense, primarily Maryland militiamen, were outnumbered and outgunned as British forces poured over the now unguarded bridge. They too soon melted away in the face of the more experienced British units.
“In less than an hour,” according to the USNI, “nearly two-thirds of the American army had evaporated. Only the third line remained, anchored on Barney’s guns.”
Now, only the Marines stood in the way of the British and the U.S. capital.
As the British surged toward them Barney’s men repelled them once, twice, three times.
After the final failed attempt to overrun the battery stalled 50 yards in front of the Marine line, Barney counterattacked with his flotillamen, driving the British back into the ravine with cries of “Board ‘em, board ‘em!” according to the USNI.
The Marines and flotillamen fought alone for nearly two hours more hours — even as Barney’s ammunition wagons drove off with his resupply.
Dozens of Barney’s men were killed or wounded as they became enveloped by the British. Barney himself was wounded when a bullet became lodged deep in his thigh.
As the escape route began to close, Barney finally ordered a retreat as a few American gunners and Marines held the line while the rest ran a gauntlet of fire to make their way back to the capital, writes the USNI.
Six hours after British forces first engaged the Americans near Bladensburg, the red coats strolled into downtown D.C.
But the Marine’s defense was not entirely in vain — their desperate fight allowed precious minutes for Madison, government officials and civilians to flee.
It also allowed for State Department clerks to run to the Library of Congress and evacuate the Declaration of Independence, first to an unused gristmill near Chain Bridge over the Potomac River and later to a private home near Leesburg, Virginia, according to the National Archives.
The actions of the Marines that day were so decisive that even the British were impressed. According to USNI, Barney, unable to leave the field due to his wound, was captured and exchanged words with Adm. Cockburn and Gen. Ross.
“I am really very glad to see you, Commodore,” said Gen. Ross.
“I am sorry I cannot return the compliment, General,” Barney retorted.
Ross smiled and turned to Cockburn. “I told you it was the Flotilla men.”
“Yes,” Cockburn said, “you were right, though I could not believe you — they have given us the only fighting we have had.”
In a further act of chivalry, as the nation’s capital lay in smoldering ruins, only two buildings remained unscathed as the entire neighboring Washington Navy Yard was burned to the ground — the Marine Corps Commandants’ home and the Marine barracks lay untouched.
Claire Barrett is an editor and military history correspondent for Military Times. She is also a World War II researcher with an unparalleled affinity for Sir Winston Churchill and Michigan football.
