"... I am accordingly ready; I have pressed as many Cabinet papers into trunks as to fill one carriage; our private property must be sacrificed, as it is impossible to procure wagons for its transportation. I am determined not to go myself until I see Mr. Madison safe and he can accompany me, as I hear of much hostility toward him.... Disaffection stalks around us.... My friends and acquaintances are all gone, even Colonel C., with his hundred men, who were stationed as a guard in this enclosure.... French John (a faithful domestic), with his usual activity and resolution, offers to spike the cannon at the gate and lay a train of powder which would blow up the British should they enter the house. To the last proposition I positively object, without being able, however, to make him understand why all advantages in war may not be taken. "Wednesday morning (twelve o'clock).—Since sunrise I have been turning my spyglass in every direction and watching with unwearied anxiety, hoping to discover the approach of my dear husband and his friends; but, alas! I can descry only groups of military wandering in all directions, as if there was a lack of arms, or of spirit, to fight for their own firesides. "Three o'clock.—Will you believe it, my sister? We have had a battle, or skirmish, near Bladensburg, and I am still here within sound of the cannon. Mr. Madison comes not—may God protect him! Two messengers, covered with dust, come to bid me fly; but I wait for him.... At this late hour a wagon has been procured; I have had it filled with the plate and most valuable portable articles belonging to the house; whether it will reach its destination, the Bank of Maryland, or fall into the hands of British soldiery, events must determine. Our kind friend, Mr. Carroll, has come to hasten my departure, and is in a very bad humor with me because I insist on waiting until the large picture of General Washington is secured, and it requires to be unscrewed from the wall. This process was found too tedious for these perilous moments. I have ordered the frame to be broken and the canvas taken out; it is done, and the precious portrait placed in the hands of two gentlemen of New York for safe-keeping. And now, my dear sister, I must leave this house, or the retreating army will make me a prisoner in it by filling up the road I am directed to take. When I shall again write to you, or where I shall be to-morrow, I can not tell." We all know the story of Mrs. Madison's flight, of her return in disguise to a desolated, burned, ruined home. She would have been without shelter except for the open door of Mrs. Cutts, her sister, who lived in the city. From that point she visited the ruins of all the public buildings while she awaited her husband's return.