Half a century later, when the White House was undergoing a renovation, this portrait was sent, with many others subsequently added to this solitary painting, to be cleaned and the frame burnished. The artist found on examination that the canvas had never been cut, since the rusted tacks, time-worn frame, and the size compared with the original picture, was the most conclusive evidence that Mrs. Madison did not cut it out with a carving-knife, as many traditions have industriously circulated. The frame was a large one, hanging high on the wall, and it was impossible that a lady could by mounting a table be enabled to reach any but the lower portion; then, too, in that moment of nervous alarm, the constant noise of cannon filling each heart with dread, it seems improbable that any hand, above all a woman’s, could be steady enough to cut, without ruining the canvas. Again, from the lips of a descendant, the assurance is given that Mrs. Madison repeatedly asserted that she did not cut it, but only lingered to see it safely removed before she stepped into her waiting carriage and was driven rapidly toward Georgetown. First to the residence of the Secretary of the Navy, then to Belleview, and joined by the family of Mr. Jones and Mr. Carroll, she returned to town insisting that her terrified coachman should take her back toward the President’s house to look for Mr. Madison, whom she unexpectedly found near the lower bridge, attended by Mr. Monroe and Mr. Rush, who had reached the White House soon after she left it and stopped for refreshments. It has been related that the British found a sumptuous meal smoking on the table when they reached there after dark, and that they enjoyed the iced wines and cold ham, amusing themselves with the coarse assertion that “Jemmy” ran from his bacon “to save his bacon.” The low pun found ears ready to credit and circulate it, but the porter, who died but a few years since, has repeatedly asserted that the occupants of the house had been in such constant fright that but little had been cooked, and no regular meal partaken of that day; that there was always plenty in the larder for any emergency, and a wine-cellar kept well stored, but that after the President’s party had eaten on their arrival, soon after Mrs. Madison’s departure, and given the remnants of their hasty meal to the tired, jaded soldiers of Col. Savol’s regiment, that there was nothing left.