He then knew
what any other city might expect upon which the "foul footsteps'
pollution" of the British might come.
The sorry appearance of the British army gave the Marlborough
people the idea that it had been defeated, and on the afternoon
of the following day Dr. Beanes and his friends celebrated a
supposed victory. Had they stayed in the noble old mansion that
the worthy but irascible doctor inhabited near Marlborough, "The
Star-Spangled Banner" would never have been written. Tempted by
the balminess of a warm September afternoon, however, the party
adjoined to a spring near the house, where, the negro servant
having carried out the proper utensils, the cool water was
tempered with those ingredients which mingle their congenial
essences to make up that still seductive drink, a Maryland punch.
It warms the heart, but if used too freely it makes a man
hot-tempered, disputatious, and belligerent. Amid the patriotic
jollity, therefore, when three British soldiers, belated, dusty,
and thirsty, came to the spring on their way to the retreating
army, their boasting met with an incredulous denial, which soon
led to their summary arrest as chicken-stealers and public
enemies. Confined in the insecure Marlborough jail, one of them
speedily escaped, and reached a scouting-party of British
cavalry, which, by order of Cockburn, returned to Upper
Marlborough, roused Dr. Beanes out of his bed at midnight, and
conveyed him to the British ships at Benedict's.
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