Ten Years in Washington: or, Inside Life and Scenes in Our National Capital as a Woman Sees Them ... to Which Is Added a Full Account of the Life and Death of President James A. GarfieldClemmer, Mary
History
Ten Years in Washington: or, Inside Life and Scenes in Our National Capital as a Woman Sees Them ... to Which Is Added a Full Account of the Life and Death of President James A. Garfield
Clemmer, Mary
Washington (D.C.) -- Description and travel; Washington (D.C.) -- History
The stateliest room on this floor is the library, used in Mrs. John
Adams’ time as a reception-room, furnished then in crimson. It was
almost bookless till Mr. Filmore’s administration, when it was fitted up
as a library, and many books were added during the administration of
President Buchanan. It is now lined with heavy mahogany book-cases,
finished with solid oak, covered with maroon. It is sometimes used by
the President as an official reception-room, and sometimes as an evening
lounging-place for the Presidential family and their guests.
On the north lawn of the President’s house, which in Jefferson’s time
was a barren, stony, unfenced waste, under the green arcade made by
glorious trees, now stands a bronze statue of Jefferson. It was
presented to the government by Captain Levy, of the United States’ army,
who in 1840 owned Monticello.
From the great portico, we look beyond this statue, across Pennsylvania
avenue, to an equestrian image of Jackson, rearing frantically and
preposterously in the centre of Lafayette square. Lovely Lafayette
square, laid out by Downing—perfect in blending tint and outline, flower
of mimic parks! Beyond its trees we catch a glimpse of its encircling
historic houses, and of the brown ivy-hung walls of St. John’s venerable
church, its tiny and old time tower showing so picturesquely against the
evening sky.
The avenue of lofty trees on the west side of the President’s
house—beneath whose shade, in the dimness of the night, Lincoln used to
take his solitary walk, and carry his heavy heart to the War
Department—were planted by John Quincy Adams. No swelling tree-crowned
knolls, no grassy glades could be more restful to the sight than the
southern grounds of the President’s house. From its height it looks down
upon this rolling park, reaching now to the Potomac, bounded by its
gleaming waters, on which so many white sails drift, and doze, and dream
in the languid summer weather.
CHAPTER XX.
LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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