This discovery caused great rejoicing, the news of it spread far and wide among the officers, and not an order was obeyed for the rest of the day.  So you will see, my son, that while the superior generals and their staffs were banqueting on Mr. Riggs’s bull, the field officers were besieging their brains with Mr. Blair’s choice whisky.  The city was perfectly safe while this state of revelry existed.  And I feel, my son, that you will agree with me that Mr. Blair deserves well of his country for supplying his cellar with this remarkable weapon of defense.  Let the future historian bear in mind that the War Department can claim no credit for the safety of Washington.  The credit of saving Washington belongs exclusively to Mr. Riggs’s bull and Mr. Montgomery Blair’s barrel of whisky.  They furnished the feast that stole away the brains of General Early’s officers, and caused the delay that saved the city.

In fine, my son, I have good military authority for saying that these rebel officers, after their wisdom had been carried away by the whisky, put on ladies’ dresses and so conducted themselves that General Early, in order to get them out, and put a stop to the riotous proceedings, was compelled to apply the torch to the house of Mr. Blair.  Let this sad result be a warning to all generals, sent to either threaten or capture the capital of a nation.

Have I not satisfied you, my son, that Mr. Davis sent the wrong man to take Washington?  A more sanguine general, knowing that he had been sent from Richmond to threaten and, if possible, capture Washington, and having come so far and routed all the troops sent to oppose him, and arrived within sight of the coveted prize, at a time when he must have known the weakness of the defenses, would have risked an attack in force and would have succeeded.  I say he would have succeeded; for, by all the rules of war, the capital ought to have fallen.  Let it be remembered also, that during that memorable Tuesday, when the rattle of small arms and the booming of cannon from Fort Stevens were calling patriotic citizens to the front to do their duty, the engineer-in-chief and other of the high officials of the War Department were busy packing up the records of their offices, preparatory to their removal to the gunboats.

The attack, which had been so confidently expected on Tuesday morning, did not take place.  General Early and his officers still continued their riotous proceedings near Silver Springs, while his advance line kept our gallant defenders in a state of intense excitement and activity.  As hour after hour wore away, however, the anxiety of our people increased, in fear of what might happen.

Then late in the afternoon news came that the brave old Sixth Corps—­a terror to rebels everywhere—­had arrived.  This sent a thrill of joy into many a heart, and shout after shout went up along the line as its cross came in sight.  Yes, the old Sixth Corps, with General Wright, had come once more.  It was a proud sight to see these men deploy into line of battle, in front of Fort Stevens, their war-worn colors fluttering in the breeze, with that cross so well known to the rebel hosts.