through the fiery storm of that night of anxious vigil in which our
national anthem was born.

In this old house on Bridge Street Francis Scott Key lived when he was
Attorney for the District of Columbia, and in a small brick office
adjoining his home he did the work that placed him in the front rank
of the American bar.

St. John's Episcopal Church, not far away, where he was vestryman, has
a tablet to the memory of Reverend Johannes I. Sayrs, a former rector,
on which is an inscription by Key. In Christ Church is a memorial
window dedicated to Francis Scott Key.

"It is a pity that the old house is to be sold," said a resident of
Georgetown.

"Is it to be sold?" I asked. For a long time this fate has been
hovering over the old Key home, but I had hoped, even when there was
no hope.

"Yes," was the reply. "The ground is wanted for business buildings."

"A pity?" I said. "It is more than a pity; it is a national shame." Is
there not patriotism enough in our land to keep that shrine sacred to
historic memory?

It was from this house that Key set out September 4, 1814, to
negotiate for the release of Dr. Beanes, one of his friends, who,
after having most kindly cared for British soldiers when wounded and
helpless, was arrested and taken to the British fleet as a prisoner in
revenge for his having sent away from his door-yard some intoxicated
English soldiers who were creating disorder and confusion. Key, in
company with Colonel John S. Skinner, United States Agent for Parole
of Prisoners, arrived at Fort McHenry, on Whetstone Point, in time to
witness the effort of General Ross to make good his boast that he "did
not care if it rained militia, he would take Baltimore and make it his
winter headquarters."

They were on the ship _Surprise_, and, upon making their plea for
their captive friend, were told that he had inflicted atrocious
injuries upon British soldiers, and the Admiral had resolved to hang
him from the yard-arm. The eloquence of Mr. Key, supplemented by
letters written by British officers to Dr. Beanes, thanking him for
the many kindnesses which they had received from him, finally won
Admiral Cochrane from his vengeful decision. After the release of the
captive the Americans were not permitted to return to land, lest they
might carry information detrimental to the British cause. Thus Admiral
Cochrane, who enjoyed well-merited distinction for doing the wrong
thing, placed his unwilling guests in the