August 24, 1814
Executive Mansion
Washington, United States
Paul, a young servant, rounded the corner with a panic-stricken expression on his face. "Ma'ams! They're here."
Rage erupted inside of me. I whirled around and glared at Dolley Madison, whose arms were laden with family trinkets of former Presidents. Servants ran to and fro with suitcases full of such precious items from all over the Executive Mansion. Just an hour ago, we received word that the British Army had entered Washington. Though most of the city was already evacuated, the First Lady had other ideas.
"Mrs. Madison!" I roared.
She dropped her things into a servant's waiting arms. She wiped the sweat off her flushed brow. "M—Madam, there's just one last room I want to—"
"Absolutely not," I snapped. "We must go now."
The thick scent of smoke filled the humid summer air. The sky was an inky black and the wind howled violently through the trees. I brought up the rear as American troops escorted the First Lady and her small army of servants to the waiting carriages. As I looked across the lawn to the West Wing building, I saw what so frightened young Paul.
It was burning. Beneath a halo of ghastly smoke, amber pillars of flame rose from shattered windows. About two dozen redcoats were advancing towards the main mansion, torches in hand. My steps faltered when I noticed one redcoat standing alone, just outside the ring of light around the fire.
Then I froze.
He was merely a silhouette, yet I knew it was him. I glared with all my might and anger, my chest burning with hatred as my lungs heaved. My imagination filled in the details of his face—angery eyes, flaring nostrils, sneering lips.
I wish Napoleon had wiped him off the map.
Suddenly, Mrs. Madison fell on my arm. "Madam! You forget yourself!"
"F—Forgive me," I mumbled, allowing her to pull me along.
"The men say a hurricane is come up from the Carolinas! We must make haste!"
"A hurricane...?"
I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes frantically searching for England again. He had vanished into the darkness. As we stole away into the night, I prayed that God would unleash his wrath upon him for inflicting such an utter humiliation.
~
A/N: Can you believe the British actually set fire to the White House??
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