A few small houses, some of brick and some of wood, stood on the edge of this long, broad embryo street. Near the large stone building at its western end were four or five structures of red brick, looking much like ungainly warehouses. Farther westward on the Potomac hills was a small but pretentious town with its many capacious brick and stone residences, some of them excellent in their architecture and erected solidly by skilled workmen.[9]
Other openings in the forest had been cut at various places in the wide area east of the main highway that connected the two principal structures already described. Along these forest avenues were scattered houses of various materials, some finished and some in the process of erection.[10] Here and there unsightly gravel pits and an occasional brick kiln added to the raw unloveliness of the whole.
Such was the City of Washington, with Georgetown near by, when Thomas Jefferson became President and John Marshall Chief Justice of the United States—the Capitol, Pennsylvania Avenue, the "Executive Mansion" or "President's Palace," the department buildings near it, the residences, shops, hostelries, and streets. It was a picture of sprawling aimlessness, confusion, inconvenience, and utter discomfort.
When considering the events that took place in the National Capital as narrated in these volumes,—the debates in Congress, the proclamations of Presidents, the opinions of judges, the intrigues of politicians,—when witnessing the scenes in which Marshall and Jefferson and Randolph and Burr and Pinckney and Webster were actors, we must think of Washington as a dismal place, where few and unattractive houses were scattered along muddy openings in the forests.
There was on paper a harmonious plan of a splendid city, but the realization of that plan had scarcely begun. As a situation for living, the Capital of the new Nation was, declared Gallatin, a "hateful place."[11] Most of the houses were "small miserable huts" which, as Wolcott informed his wife, "present an awful contrast to the public buildings."[12]
Aside from an increase in the number of residences and shops, the "Federal City" remained in this state for many years. "The Chuck holes were not bad," wrote Otis of a journey out of Washington in 1815; "that is to say they were none of them much deeper than the Hubs of the hinder wheels. They were however exceedingly frequent."[13] Pennsylvania Avenue was, at this time, merely a stretch of "yellow, tenacious mud,"[14] or dust so deep and fine that, when stirred by the wind, it made near-by objects invisible.[15] And so this street remained for decades. Long after the National Government was removed to Washington, the carriage of a diplomat became mired up to the axles in the sticky clay within four blocks of the President's residence and its occupant had to abandon the vehicle.
John Quincy Adams records in his diary, April 4, 1818, that on returning from a dinner the street was in such condition that "our carriage in coming for us ... was overset, the harness broken. We got home with difficulty, twice being on the point of oversetting, and at the Treasury Office corner we were both obliged to get out ... in the mud.... It was a mercy that we all got home with whole bones."[16]
Fever and other malarial ills were universal at certain seasons of the year.[17] "No one, from the North or from the high country of the South, can pass the months of August and September there without intermittent or bilious fever," records King in 1803.[18] Provisions were scarce and Alexandria, across the river, was the principal source of supplies.[19] "My God! What have I done to reside in such a city," exclaimed a French diplomat.[20] Some months after the Chase impeachment[21] Senator Plumer described Washington as "a little village in the midst of the woods."[22] "Here I am in the wilderness of Washington," wrote Joseph Story in 1808.[23]
Except a small Catholic chapel there was only one church building in the entire city, and this tiny wooden sanctuary was attended by a congregation which seldom exceeded twenty persons.[24] This absence of churches was entirely in keeping with the inclination of people of fashion. The first Republican administration came, testifies Winfield Scott, in "the spring tide of infidelity.... At school and college, most bright boys, of that day, affected to regard religion as base superstition or gross hypocricy."[25]
Most of the Senators and Representatives of the early Congresses were crowded into the boarding-houses adjacent to the Capitol, two and sometimes more men sharing the same bedroom. At Conrad and McMunn's boarding-house, where Gallatin lived when he was in the House, and where Jefferson boarded up to the time of his inauguration, the charge was fifteen dollars a week, which included service, "wood, candles and liquors."[26] Board at the Indian Queen cost one dollar and fifty cents a day, "brandy and whisky being free."[27] In some such inn the new Chief Justice of the United States, John Marshall, at first, found lodging.