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the political situation turned even gloomier when Napoleon collapsed, leaving the United States all alone versus Great Britain, the most powerful country on the globe. The Federalist Party, still potent in New England, talked secession and surrender. The British thought they had a chance to regain their lost thirteen colonies—or a hefty chunk of them. They dispatched a fleet under a big-talking admiral named Cockburn, who cruised off the East Coast, declaring he planned to “make his bow” in Mrs. Madison’s drawing room.
    Washington seethed with unrest and anxiety. There were rumors of an assassination plot, supposedly to get rid of Madison and put in his place a pro-British puppet. Some friends urged Dolley to flee the city. “I am
determined to
stay with my husband,” she replied and began sleeping with a saber beside her bed. She heartily approved when the President stationed one hundred soldiers on the White House grounds to demonstrate his determination to stand his ground.
    Deciding their war of nerves had failed, the British landed 4,500 veteran troops in Maryland, less than a day’s march from the capital. Dolley could only watch and pray as Madison rode off with 6,000 hastily assembled American militia to stop them. The First Lady mounted to the White House roof and swept the horizon with a spyglass, hoping to see her husband returning in triumph. All she saw were some dispirited militiamen and crowds of Washingtonians fleeing into Virginia. The troops assigned to protect the White House panicked and joined the exodus. Dolley soon learned that the pickup American army had stampeded for safety at the first British volley.
    Still she refused to budge. She ordered the servants to prepare dinner and set the table for the President and his staff. She was determined to show the citizens there was no panic or cowardice in the White House. Dinner was almost ready to serve when two dust-covered horsemen pounded up to the door. They shouted orders from the President to abandon the house immediately and flee into the country. Dolley was infuriated. She vowed that if she were a man, she would have found soldiers, posted a cannon in every window, and fought the British to the bitter end. But she realized it was time to be sensible and depart.
    She still declined to panic. She had sent Madison’s papers into the country the previous day. Now she ordered the red silk velvet draperies in the Elliptical Saloon taken down. She also packed the silver service and the blue and gold Lowestoft china she had purchased for the State Dining Room. Then she saw Gilbert Stuart’s portrait of George Washington on the wall of the dining room, in an elaborate gold frame. She could not allow the Father of the Country to be captured by the British. “Take it down,” she said.
    Sweating and cursing, the steward and his assistants tried, but the frame was bolted to the wall. Dolley ordered them to break the frame and cut the canvas out of it. Finally, as she headed out the door with the painting under her arm, she scooped up a precious copy of Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence. At this point, one of Madison’s black servants, Jim Smith, rode up, shouting: “Clear out! Clear out!” The British were only a few miles away. Dolley climbed coolly into her carriage and rode off to Rokeby, Virginia, to stay in a friend’s house.
    The British, as even the most casual students of American history know, marched into deserted Washington and gleefully torched the White House, the Capitol, and other public buildings. The Americans, I regret to say, had it coming to them. They had started the pyromania by burning several public buildings in Toronto during their abortive invasion of Canada. Admiral Cockburn no doubt made a drunken bow in Dolley’s parlor before striking the match.
    Dolley returned to Washington the day after the British marched back to their ships. She shed tears over the blackened shell of theWhite House and took up