MAJ. GEN. SAMUEL SMITH KNEW, as every citizen in the city knew, that the British were heading for Baltimore. He did not know when the masts of the enemy armada would appear off the Patapsco River, but he knew it would be only a matter of days, if not hours, especially after the news reached Baltimore of the British occupation of Washington, D.C. Only forty miles separated Washington from Baltimore, and Smith expected the British to strike at any moment.
Smith was a political powerhouse in Maryland—a veteran of the Revolutionary War, a U.S. representative, interim secretary of the Navy, and most recently a U.S. senator. He also commanded the 3rd Division of the Maryland militia, and when Cockburn had first appeared off Baltimore in 1813, the mayor had turned to Smith to organize the city’s defenses. The city leaders again turned to Smith, who had the backing of Brig. Gen. John Stricker, who commanded the 3rd Brigade of Smith’s division; Capt. Oliver Hazard Perry; Capt. Robert T. Spence, commander of the sloop of war Erie; and Maj. George Armistead, commander of the city’s Regulars stationed at Fort McHenry. Smith agreed to command the defenses with one caveat: his authority was to be absolute. He was not going to allow the breakdown in command and control that had doomed Winder. The city leaders agreed, as did Governor Levin Winder, who gave the sixty-two-year-old Smith direct command of the Baltimore area, putting him in charge of Winder’s nephew, Brig. Gen. William Winder, the luckless loser at Bladensburg.1
The command question settled, Smith set about preparing to meet the British. He called in troops from everywhere. Militia streamed in from Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Maryland. There were some very familiar faces. Col. James Hood, commander of the Annapolis militia at Bladensburg, showed up with 500 of his once 800-man-strong battalion. William Pinkney reported with his riflemen, all of whom now had rifles. Lt. Col. Joseph Sterrett and the 5th also reported. All of them were itching for redemption after Bladensburg. The units that probably pleased Smith the most, however, were the sailors and Marines who began to report back to Baltimore after attempting to destroy Gordon’s flotilla on the Potomac. Commodore John Rodgers had pulled nearly 1,200 of the tough fighters out of Baltimore on August 24 to help in the defense of Washington. Now, two weeks later, they began to return.2
By September 10 Smith had more than 15,000 men guarding the city.3 The linchpin was Fort McHenry, the masonry-and-earth fortress that dominated the approaches to the inner harbor. A French military engineer had designed the star-shaped bastion so that each gun emplacement covered the others. Smith, since the invasion scare of 1813, had beefed up those defenses. The fort sat on a spit of land called Whetstone Point, where the Patapsco split into the Northwest Branch, which led directly to the inner harbor, and the Ferry Branch, which curved to the west before arcing back to within a mile of the city. The Lazaretto, Commodore Barney’s former headquarters, sat across from McHenry. Smith strung a massive wooden chain-linked boom across the Patapsco from the Lazaretto to Fort McHenry. He put Navy lieutenant George Budd in command of Fort Look Out, which mounted seven 24-pounder cannon, and told the sailors to ready a group of old merchant vessels for scuttling behind the boom if necessary. On the Northwest Branch he positioned Chesapeake Flotilla veteran Lt. Solomon Rutter with the city’s barges and a handful of Navy gunboats to defend the boom.4
In a shrewd tactical move, Smith put naval officers in charge of every harbor defensive point except for Fort McHenry. Navy lieutenant Henry Newcomb and eighty sailors manned 10-gun Fort Covington, which sat a mile west from McHenry on the Ferry Branch. Five hundred yards east of Covington, Sailing Master John Webster and sixty-five flotillamen manned 6-gun Fort Babcock. At the Lazaretto, Lt. Solomon Frazier of the flotilla set up three 12-pounder field guns behind an earthwork while Sailing Master Solomon Rodman and still more flotilla veterans manned five big 32-pounder cannon at the water battery at Fort McHenry. Smith “borrowed” the guns from a French warship stranded in the harbor and sent two militia artillery units to the water battery as well, swelling the number of cannon in the battery to twenty-six.5
At Fort McHenry, Maj. George Armistead commanded a garrison that now numbered nearly one thousand men. In addition to his Regular Army artillerymen Armistead had several volunteer units assigned to his post and six hundred Regular Army infantry poised to attack any landing the British might attempt. Depending on the weather conditions, floating over the fort was either the massive American garrison flag or the smaller American storm flags that Armistead had commissioned from local seamstress Mary Pickers-gill the year before.
Smith concentrated his land defenses east of the city, fortifying Hampstead Hill, which would protect the city from an attack coming from the most logical direction. Smith anchored the line north of the city hospital and ran it right to the edge of the harbor. He posted 10,000 men and 63 guns in the trenches, putting his best force, the 700 sailors and Marines under Rodgers, in a redoubt in the center of the line. The militiamen dubbed the redoubt “Rodgers Bastion.”6
There was little more Smith could do. He, along with his soldiers, settled in to wait. The masts of Cochrane’s fleet hove into view on September 11. Among the many vessels was an American truce ship that followed behind the British flagship, the 80-gun ship of the line Tonnant. On board the Tonnant were two Americans, John S. Skinner and Francis Scott Key, whom President Madison had sent to negotiate the release of an American doctor captured by the British. They succeeded in obtaining the release of Dr. William Beanes, but Cochrane detained the Americans after they overheard the admiral and his staff planning the attack on Baltimore. Before beginning the bombardment he had all three transferred to the American truce boat under guard by Royal Marines. Nevertheless, they were in the middle of the British fleet as it began its bombardment of Fort McHenry.
Ross began disembarking his land troops at 3 a.m. at North Point, some fourteen miles southeast of Baltimore’s eastern defenses. His army of about 4,700 men included a battalion of 600 Royal Marines and small-arms-trained sailors. “It was seven o’clock before the whole army was disembarked and in order for marching,” reported Lt. George Robert Gleig of the 85th Foot.7 The British were in high spirits as they set off toward Baltimore. The only opposition they expected to meet was militia, and Wellington’s Invincibles knew how to deal with American citizen-soldiers. Ross had declared he did not care if it “rained militia,” and this same attitude infected his army.8
The British advanced about three miles before stopping to regroup and rest. Once again the summer heat and humidity quickly sapped the redcoats’ stamina. Ross and Cockburn took over a farm belonging to Robert Gorsuch and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while waiting for Col. Arthur Brooke, second in command of the army, to push forward with the bulk of the troops, including six artillery pieces. Brooke, however, had orders not to advance until the entire army had disembarked and could move as a single unit. A delay of several hours ensued as the British rowed ashore, assembled, and began moving out.9
Waiting for the British were Brig. Gen. John Stricker and his brigade of 3,200 Maryland militiamen. Stricker’s men had received a warm reception when they marched from Baltimore to the Patapsco Peninsula, where they took up a position to block Ross. Stricker arranged his brigade in a line at a narrows between two creeks astride the road leading to North Point. He placed the 5th Maryland on the right side of the road and the 27th Maryland on the left, and put the 51st and 39th Regiments in line behind them. He held the 6th Regiment in reserve. An artillery battery of seventy-five men and six 4-pounder field guns held the center of the front line. Stricker placed the rifle corps—companies under Maj. William Pinkney and Capt. Edward Ainsquith—forward of the line in a dense wood to slow down Ross’ advance. The general gave his militia officers clear, concise orders. If the first line had to fall back, the units were to filter through the second line and regroup with the reserves.
As the morning wore on, scouts brought Stricker word that the British were still enjoying their rest at the Gorsuch farm. He decided to push a force of 230 men and a cannon forward to literally pick a fight with Ross and goad him into an attack. Among the units Stricker sent forward was a small company of riflemen under the command of Ainsquith.
Ross and Cockburn, meanwhile, had finished breakfast and were pushing forward with their advance party. They were roughly five miles from the landing beach when they encountered resistance in the form of Stricker’s advance party. Ainsquith’s riflemen opened fire on Ross’ party from the cover of the woods, and the two sides traded volleys. Several of the riflemen fell and others fled. A few held their position. Ross turned to Cockburn and shouted, “I’ll return and order up the light companies.” As he started to ride back toward his advancing columns the riflemen fired again. Ross slumped over in his saddle, then fell off his horse. Officers advancing with the column came upon their wounded leader lying on the ground attended by his aide de camp, Lieutenant Gleig. The advance party of the first British brigade reported, “We were already drawing near the scene of the action when another officer came at full speed towards us, with horror and dismay on his countenance, and calling loudly for a surgeon. . . . In a few moments we reached the ground where the skirmishing had taken place and saw General Ross laid by the side of the rode under a canopy of blankets and apparently in the agonies of death.”10
Ross’ death dampened but did not destroy the spirits of his men. Brooke rode forward on hearing the news of the general’s death and found his light infantry drawn up facing the American line. Brooke brought up the remainder of his troops just as the American artillery began to bark. He ordered his own artillery and rocket battery to engage the Americans while he deployed his infantry. The light infantry of the 85th, bolstered with elements of the 44th Foot and some of the Royal Marines and sailors, moved to attack the American left flank. Brooke had the 4th and 21st arrayed to strike on the right flank, with support from the remaining naval forces.11
The American riflemen who had fired on Ross ran back to Stricker’s line, and he placed them on his far right flank. His artillery tore into the advancing columns of invaders, but the British artillery took an equal toll on the American line. Stricker had his guns cease firing, hoping to draw the British into canister range. He saw Brooke massing for a punch at his left flank and ordered the 39th and two cannon to take a position on the line. He ordered the 51st into a support position at a right angle to the line, but the raw militiamen were unable to execute the maneuver cleanly. Stricker wanted the seven-hundred-man regiment to run their line from the 39th back toward the rear, from which they could engage any flanking parties, but their slowness in moving into position left them exposed to British cannon and musket fire.12
On the right, the 5th was taking everything Brooke’s men could give them and giving it right back. The casualties piled up on both sides as the 5th obstinately held its ground. The militiamen’s stand earned the respect of their enemies, with Gleig calling them “the flower of the enemy’s infantry.”13
Brooke’s men had far more success on the left flank. The 51st had barely fired off one volley when the British replied. The idea of being fired on from the flank was too much for the Americans and they broke, taking with them the 39th Regiment. Brooke ordered his army to charge, and the entire left flank collapsed. The 5th fought on, but the rout of the left flank put them in danger of being surrounded and either wiped out or captured. Stricker, after trying unsuccessfully to rally his fleeing militia, ordered the units still on the field to fall back to Hampstead Hill.14
The British, worn out from the march from North Point and the two-hour fight with Stricker’s brigade, did not pursue, although Brooke lamented, “Had we had but 300 cavalry not a man would have escaped.”15 The battle, though short, was costly to both sides. The British reported 39 dead and 251 wounded; Stricker reported 24 dead, 130 wounded, and 50 captured.16
Brooke drew his army up in front of Smith’s earthworks, which extended for roughly a mile. Winder came pounding up with a brigade of Virginia militia and joined forces with Stricker on the left flank of the defensive line while Stansbury and his brigade moved slightly forward on the right. Smith believed Brooke planned a night assault on his position with bayonets, and in his report said he wanted advance elements ready to flank the British depending on where they attempted to strike.
The battle between Stricker and Brooke ended around 3 p.m. Brooke spent the rest of the day scouting the defenses on Hampstead Hill, searching for a soft spot. He decided his best chance for success lay in cooperating with Cochrane’s fleet. After receiving a note from Cochrane that the squadron would attempt to break into the harbor the next morning, Brooke settled in for the night of September 12 to await developments on the water.17
In the forts and batteries dotted around Baltimore Harbor, sailors, soldiers, and Marines watched as the British fleet slowly moved into attack position. Cochrane ordered a squadron of seventeen frigates, brigs, bomb vessels, and his single rocket ship to move up the Patapsco to a spot where they could bombard the fortifications. The warships carefully made their way toward Fort McHenry, anchoring about two and a half miles from the fort’s nearest guns. Cochrane, on board the frigate Surprize, commanded the advance squadron.18 Just after sunrise on September 13, the bomb ship Volcano fired a pair of ranging shots that fell short of the fort. Her captain inched the vessel closer, with the Terror, Devastation, Aetna, and Meteor following behind. The little tender Cockchafer and the rocket ship Erebus also moved in closer. Before the bomb and rocket ships could anchor in a firing position, the Cockchafer let loose a broadside that did little to disturb Armistead’s defenders.19 At 7 a.m. the Meteor opened fire, lofting a 200-pound shell at the fort. The other bomb ships also opened fire, as did the Erebus.20 Shells and rockets whizzed over Fort McHenry. Armistead gamely returned fire, but his 24- and 36-pounder guns simply did not have the range. After a three-hour exchange, Armistead ordered his gunners to cease firing.21
For Colonel Brooke, the commencement of the bombardment signaled the next phase in the plan to take Baltimore. Brooke and his army were camped about a mile in front of the American line on Hampstead Hill. He had no intention of hitting the center. He could see the strength of the redoubt Rodgers had built, although he did not know he had veteran sailors and Marines facing him. Instead, he looked to the flanks. He was counting on Cochrane getting past the harbor defenses so they could give fire support to his attack. Brooke moved troops northward to flank the American left, believing this would cause the militia to flee and open the road to Baltimore for his army.22 Smith saw the maneuver and repositioned his troops to protect his flank.
The bombardment went on hour after hour. The five bomb ships could hurl between forty-five and fifty shells an hour, giving the British an overwhelming and essentially unchallenged edge in firepower. After two hours little had changed, other than that the Americans had stopped firing back. By 11 a.m. Cochrane was growing ever more pessimistic about his chances of smashing through the defenses and aiding Brooke’s land attack. Despite his misgivings, Cochrane continued to pound the fort. At 2 p.m. a shell landed squarely on the crew of a 24-pounder, killing the gun officer and two others and dismounting the gun. As artillerymen struggled to remount the gun another shell burst, killing yet another defender. More shells slammed into the fort, one of them penetrating the main magazine. Luckily for the defenders, either the fuse fizzled or a soldier was able to douse the fuse before it could explode. Armistead ordered his men to empty the magazine and place the powder along the rear wall of the fort.23
Lieutenant Frazier at the Lazaretto had a clear view of the British squadron, yet for hours he was powerless to do anything about the bombardment. All he and the other commanders around the harbor wanted was the chance to hit back. They got their chance around 3 p.m. when the silence from Fort McHenry induced Cochrane to send the bomb ships, the Erebus, and a frigate in closer to finish off the Americans. It was exactly the opportunity for which Frazier, Lieutenant Rutter, and Major Armistead had been waiting. Every gun the Americans could bring to bear opened fire.24
At the Lazaretto, Frazier took aim with the one 12-pounder, sighting in on the Erebus and opening fire. Lieutenant Rutter on the barges also opened fire, as did the big 36-pounder cannon and 42-pounder carronades at Fort McHenry. The volley staggered the British.25 The Volcano took five hits. A cannonball tore through the Devastation’s bow and another took out her topmast. As the Americans reloaded, Cochrane frantically raised signal flags ordering the vessels back to their original position. The British limped out of range and once more began lobbing shells.26
Once back in their former position, the bomb ships renewed their attack with new intensity. As though to punctuate the assault, a late summer storm blew in from the Chesapeake. Peals of thunder and flashes of lightning joined in with the red streaks of Congreve rockets and orange shellbursts. The storm added to the misery of Fort McHenry’s defenders because there was limited shelter for them from either the rain or the storm of British fire.
In front of Hampstead Hill, Colonel Brooke found himself in a quandary. He had yet to receive Cochrane’s note telling him not to expect naval support, but he knew he lacked enough men to launch a direct assault. He had initially expected to attack the American defenses that morning, but delay after delay had scuttled that plan. His letter to Cochrane, which he sent around midnight, told the admiral he expected to be in Baltimore sometime between noon and 1 p.m. That plan too fell apart when Brooke got a better look at the defensive works in front of him. The continuous downpour that afternoon further delayed the assembly of his troops in an assault formation.27
After scouting the American line, Brooke was surprised to find Stricker’s and Winder’s troops positioned on the left flank he had thought was open. A daylight attack was now out of the question. Brooke and Cockburn believed that a night attack, however, when American artillery would be less effective (because the gunners would not be able to see the attackers), might allow the British to turn the American left flank and smash their way into Baltimore. He sent a note to Cochrane asking the admiral if he could conduct some sort of diversion on the Ferry Branch that would draw off some of the defenders while he attacked what he believed was the weak left flank.28 He set the time for the attack at 2 a.m. and ordered Cockburn’s aide, Lieutenant Scott, to carry a message to Cochrane asking him to set up the diversion.
Scott arrived on board the Surprize with Brooke’s note around 3:30 p.m.29 Cochrane looked toward Baltimore and saw no signs of fighting, then gave way to caution. He sent Cockburn, who was with Brooke, a curt order all but canceling the land attack. “It is impossible for the Ships to render you any assistance—the town is so far retired within the Forts. It is for Colonel Brooke to consider under such circumstances whether he has force sufficient to defeat so large a number as it [is] said the enemy has collected; say 20,000 strong or even a less number and to take the town: without this can be done it will be only throwing the men’s lives away and prevent us from going upon other services.”30
Scott raced back to Brooke and Cockburn with Cochrane’s glum assessment, arriving at the army’s camp around 6 p.m. After reading the admiral’s letter, Brooke called a council of war with his officers. Cockburn, as always, was for the original plan. He believed the land forces could push through the militia with or without naval support. The other officers, however, were not so sure, and neither was Brooke. The debate lasted until midnight.31 When he finally made a decision, Brooke wrote to Cochrane: “I called a council of war, though I had made all my arrangements for attacking the Enemy at three in the morning the result of which was that from the situation I was placed in, they advised I should retire. I have therefore ordered the retreat to take place tomorrow morning, and hope to be at my destination the day after tomorrow that is the place we disembarked from.”32
Brooke’s message did not reach Cochrane until 7:30 the next morning. The admiral, unaware that Brooke had canceled the attack, had decided to move forward with the diversion. At 9:30 p.m. on September 13, Cochrane sent Capt. Charles Napier orders to make an attack on the Ferry Branch. Cochrane told Napier to take “an additional quantity of blank cartridges to fire for the intention of drawing the notice of the enemy.” He was to take twenty boats of Royal Marines and sailors under muffled oars and row along the riverbank until he came to a point where he could make enough noise to make the Americans believe the British were launching a new offensive. Cochrane told Napier to begin his diversion at 1 a.m. and continue it until he could hear “the army is seriously engaged,” at which time he was to return to the fleet.33
All during this time, the bomb ships continued to loft shells at Fort McHenry. The fire slackened then ceased around 9 p.m. Thirty minutes later Napier and his men boarded their boats and began pulling for Ferry Branch in a driving rain. The night was pitch black, and they had nothing on which to get bearings because both the warships and the fort were silent. Napier and nine boats made the turn up the Ferry Branch, but the other eleven boats missed the turn and instead rowed directly toward the line of gunboats stationed between the Lazaretto and the fort. The men manning the guns were dead tired; otherwise they probably would have spotted the eleven boats filled with British mariners. The men in the eleven boats realized their mistake and turned around before they had ventured too far up the Northwest Branch and returned to the Surprize.34
Napier and his nine boats continued on their way. They silently rowed past Fort McHenry and, keeping to the shoreline, had nearly passed Fort Babcock when Sailing Master Webster heard the sound of oars. He peered into the darkness and after personally aiming each of his big 18-pounders, ordered his men to open fire. Lieutenant Newcomb at Fort Covington also heard Napier’s rowers and opened fire at the same time.35 Minutes later the gunners at Fort McHenry opened up, as did the British bomb ships, which launched their fiercest bombardment yet.
Napier held his position for nearly two hours, miraculously escaping injury amid the storm of grape and canister coming from Fort Babcock and Fort Covington. But he could neither see nor hear any signs of battle coming from Baltimore. Brooke’s attack was supposed to kick off at 2 a.m., but at 3 a.m. there was still no sign of a land attack. Napier decided to head back to the flotilla. His men set off, hugging the far shore from the forts. As they passed Fort McHenry one officer fired a signal flare to alert the squadron the boats were returning. The flare also alerted the gunners in Fort McHenry, who opened a massive bombardment on the boats. Napier reported just two men wounded, but Armistead reported finding three bodies and two smashed boats.36
The British bombardment came to a final end around 4 a.m. Key and Skinner, on board the truce ship, tried to determine whether the cessation meant that Fort McHenry and Baltimore had fallen or that the defenders had managed to beat them off. Nearly three hours would pass before they knew. In accordance with regulations, the garrison of Fort McHenry assembled in front of the tall flagpole inside the fort and ran up the garrison flag at 9 a.m. The sight of the Stars and Stripes unfurling in the morning breeze was an indelible moment for Francis Scott Key.
The British fleet withdrew downriver to North Point to embark Brooke’s troops. Cochrane released Key, Skinner, Dr. Beanes, and the American truce boat and crew, and the British fleet slowly made its way down the Chesapeake. The battle for Baltimore was over. The American defenders suffered twenty-eight casualties, including four dead, in the bombardment. British casualties were likely about ten dead or wounded.
As the truce boat passed Fort McHenry on the way to Baltimore everyone on board saw the large garrison flag flying over the fort. Emotions must have been keenly felt. That evening, in a hotel in Baltimore, Key put pen to paper and wrote down the lyrics he had been constructing in his mind all day. “The Defense of Fort M’Henry,” as he titled the song, set to the well-known tune “Anacreon in Heaven,” soon became known as “The Star-Spangled Banner.” The next day the lyrics were printed as a broadside and copies handed out to the defenders of Fort McHenry. The patriotic song and the lyrics quickly became popular throughout the United States.
The majority of the British ships left the Chesapeake for Halifax, Bermuda, or elsewhere. A greatly diminished blockade of the Chesapeake remained in force into the winter as the fighting around the bay continued. The British occupied Tilghman Island on the Maryland Eastern Shore and skirmished with local militia at Tracys Landing on October 27 and at Kirby’s Wind Mill on October 31, both in Anne Arundel County. They raided St. Inigoes in St. Mary’s County on October 30 and Tappahannock, Virginia, on December 2. The British finally abandoned their major base of operations at Tangier Island on December 13.37
Perhaps the least known post-Baltimore incident of the war occurred in Dorchester County, Maryland, on February 7, 1815, a month after the Battle of New Orleans. A raiding party from the tender of the British sloop Dauntless pillaged the area around Madison, taking sheep and burning several vessels. As the raiders began making their way back to the Patuxent River, the tender encountered considerable drift ice and became icebound off James Island. Members of the 48th Maryland militia engaged the raiders, and after a two-hour musket barrage the tender’s crew of twenty surrendered, including a lieutenant, a midshipmen, thirteen crewmen, three Royal Marines, and a civilian black man and woman. This was the last engagement between the United States and Great Britain in the Chesapeake, although the British liberated eight slaves without opposition from Loker Plantation in southern Maryland on February 20. On March 10 the last British warship, the frigate Orlando, left the Chesapeake.38
The war along the Canadian border fizzled out as both sides dug in for the winter. The British built up their force in Canada to 30,000 soldiers, expecting to launch an offensive when the rivers and lakes thawed. The Americans had assembled more than 9,000 Regulars and 20,000 militiamen preparing for their own offensive.39
Across the Atlantic, in Ghent, Belgium, representatives of Great Britain and the United States opened talks to end the war. Eleven days later the two warring sides came to terms and signed the Treaty of Ghent. Cochrane, who had no idea of the talks or of the treaty, moved forward with his plan to attack New Orleans, arriving off Mobile Bay, Alabama, on December 13. He launched his attack on January 8, 1815. The American defenders, under Gen. Andrew Jackson, handed the British a bloody repulse. A month later, on February 17, 1815, both sides ratified the Treaty of Ghent, officially ending the war.40
Secretary of War John Armstrong resigned under pressure after the Battle of Bladensburg. Madison replaced him with James Monroe, who served simultaneously as both secretary of state and secretary of war. Secretary of the Navy William Jones tendered his resignation soon after the British attack on Baltimore but agreed to stay on until November 30. The Navy Department, however, was in disarray. Capt. Charles Gordon, who was still in Norfolk with the Constellation, sent letter after letter to Jones and his temporary replacement, Benjamin Homans, asking for permission to take the Constellation to sea. He never received it. In January 1815, new Navy secretary Benjamin Crowninshield sent Gordon orders to ready the Constellation to take part in Stephen Decatur’s expedition against Algiers, which had allied itself with England during the war. For Gordon, it was scant consolation.
“During this war it has been my misfortune to be deprived all opportunity of performing my part in common with my brother officers,” he wrote to Crowninshield. “And when the field for fame is to be again open, I must depend upon the next British war as I cannot conceive any other victory so brilliant as those obtained over a proud Briton.”41 Gordon never got his revenge. He spent 1815 and 1816 in the Mediterranean, but his exertions exacerbated the wound he had suffered in his duel with Hanson. Charles Gordon died on September 6, 1816, in Messina, Sicily.