Walks about Washington

by Francis E. Leupp

As may be guessed, the sponsor for this greenery was fond of all growing things. Jefferson was often seen walking about the embryo city, watching the workmen digging or building, but manifesting a special interest in tree-planting and ornamental gardening. He tried to induce Congress to vote enough money to beautify the grounds around the President’s House, but in vain; the most he could do was to enclose the yard with a common stone wall and seed it down to grass. Among the plans he prepared but was obliged to abandon was the adornment of these grounds exclusively with trees, shrubs, and flowers indigenous to American soil. He must be credited with the first attempt ever made in Washington to establish a zoölogical park; Lewis and Clarke, the explorers, brought him from the West a few grizzly bears, for which he built a pen in the yard. He also made the first move to furnish Pennsylvania Avenue with shade trees. His preference was for willow-oaks; but he started four rows of Lombardy poplars to take advantage of their rapid growth till the slower oaks matured. One of his hobbies was to improve the market gardening of the neighborhood by distributing new varieties of vegetable seeds obtained through the American consuls in foreign countries, and instructing his steward always to buy the best home-grown table delicacies at the highest retail prices.

At Madison’s inauguration in 1809, Jefferson not only did not imitate the ungraciousness of Adams eight years before, but went to the opposite extreme, declining

Washington’s Pew in Christ Church, Alexandria

Madison’s invitation to drive to the Capitol in the Presidential coach lest he might divide the honors which he felt belonged exclusively to the President-elect. Madison had what was then deemed a wonderful procession of military and civic organizations, and turned the occasion into the first “made-in-America” gala day, wearing himself a complete suit of clothing made by an American tailor, of cloth woven on American looms from the wool of American sheep. Jefferson, clad in one like it, modestly waited till the procession had passed and then rode to the Capitol alone, not even a servant following to care for his horse. On entering the Hall of Representatives, he declined the chair reserved for him near Madison’s but joined the ordinary spectators, saying: “To-day I return to the people, and my proper seat is among them.” At the close of the ceremony, he mounted his horse again and rode up the Avenue unattended, till George Custis, also mounted, joined him, and they went together to the Madisons’ house.

Here a crowd of friends had gathered to welcome in the new administration. Mr. Madison’s emotions had been a good deal stirred by what had passed at the Capitol, but his manner was affable. His wife was all herself as usual. She was attired in a plain cambric dress with a very long train, and a bonnet of purple velvet and white satin, adorned with white plumes. Jefferson seems to have been, for such time as he stayed, quite as much the lion of the occasion as his successor. Presently he slipped quietly away and went over to the President’s House, where the empty halls echoed to his footsteps; for he had given all the servants a holiday so that they could see the show. But he did not remain long alone; the news spread among his old friends that he had gone back to bid his home of eight years farewell, and they followed him after a little. In the evening he went to the inaugural ball—the first ever held, and the only ball of any sort he had attended since his return from France.

From all accounts it was not a highly enjoyable affair. The room was so crowded that it was difficult to elbow one’s way across it; nobody could see what was going on without standing on a chair; the air became stifling, and when an attempt was made to freshen it by letting down the upper sashes of the windows, they would not move, so nothing was left but to smash the glass. Mrs. Madison was almost crushed to death; Madison was so tired that he confessed to a friend that he wished he were abed; and as soon as supper was over, the Presidential party withdrew. The younger set stayed and danced till midnight, when, at the stroke, the music ceased and the attendants began to put out the lights.

The social success achieved by Dolly Madison as official hostess through so large a part of Jefferson’s administration did not wane when, with the rise of her husband to the head of the Government, she came into her own by right instead of by courtesy. Her first term as mistress of the President’s House was a continuous blaze of gayety, in which we catch fleeting glimpses of her in a variety of toilets, the most truly typical being a buff velvet gown with pearl ornaments and a Paris turban topped with a bird-of-paradise plume. Then came the second war with Great Britain and the wrecking of the city.

When the British approached Bladensburg, and the improvised home-guard of Washington went out to engage them in battle, Mr. Madison permitted his military advisers to persuade him that, after seeing the stiffness of the American resistance, the British would withdraw. His wife caught the infection of confidence, and together they planned to celebrate the victory by a dinner to the officers on the evening after the battle. The table was spread by three in the afternoon, when Mrs. Madison, who had been listening with composure to the distant boom of cannon, was dismayed to see a lot of demoralized American soldiers running in from the north by twos and threes. Her sudden fears were confirmed when one of her colored servants galloped up to the door, shouting: “Clear out! Clear out! General Armstrong has ordered a retreat!” Then a few friends came over to insist on her seeking safety in flight. They helped her to fill a wagon with such valuables as were not too heavy; but she provoked their indignation by waiting till the oil portrait of General Washington attributed to Stuart, which hangs in the White House to-day, could be cut out of its frame and “placed in the hands of two gentlemen from New York for safe keeping.”

We have already seen how the Capitol and other public buildings were burned. A particularly vicious scheme was worked out to assure the destruction of the President’s House, because of Mr. Madison’s personal share in the dispute which led to the war. Indeed, it was the hope of the invaders to find him and his wife at home and take them captive, so as to humiliate the American Government and people and thus impress a lesson for the future. By way of a reconnoiter, Admiral Cockburn went to the mansion and looked through it, taking with him as a hostage a young gentleman of the city, named Weightman. In the dining-room they found everything prepared for the dinner of triumph, and Cockburn ordered his companion to sit down with him and “drink Jemmy’s health.” Then he bade Weightman help himself to a mantel ornament as a souvenir of the day. “I must take something, too,” he added, and with great hilarity tucked under his arm an old hat of the President’s and a cushion from Mrs. Madison’s chair.