If well advised, he would instruct the coachman to drop him at Gadsby’s, then the most popular and comfortable hostelry in town, on the Avenue, a short distance from the Capitol.[8] There he would find, not only a clean bed, but excellent service and a lordly hospitality from the host. Gadsby, for his generation, was a genius at his trade. He moved his small army of negro servants with military precision. “Who that ever knew the hospitalities of this gentlemanly and most liberal Boniface,” wrote one who enjoyed them, “can ever forget his urbane manner, his careful attention to his guests, his well-ordered house, his fine old wines, and the princely manner in which he could send his bottle of choice Madeira to some old friend or favored guest at the table?”[9] It was not always, however, that accommodations could be found at Gadsby’s, and then the tourist would seek the Indian Queen at the sign of the luridly painted picture of Pocahontas, where he would be met at the curb by Jesse Brown, the landlord.[10] Here, for a dollar and a quarter a day, he could not only find a pleasant room, but a table loaded with decanters of brandy, rum, gin, at short intervals from the head to the foot. If the host of the Indian Queen lacked the lordly elegance of Gadsby, he made up for it in the homely virtues of hospitality. Wearing a large white apron, he met his guests at the door of the dining-room, and then hastened to the head of the table where he personally carved and helped to serve the principal dish.[11] If this, too, was crowded, the tourist would try Fuller’s near the White House,[12] where a room would be found for him either in the hotel proper, or in one of the two or three houses adjoining, which had been converted into an annex.[13]