CAPTAIN M. C. MEIGS,

ENGINEER IN CHARGE

215

The Capitol extension project had been

under way less than two years when

it was transferred to the War Department. It was not immediately clear how the architect would function within the new arrangement,

but Walter would no longer engage in business

dealings, contract negotiations, or the hiring of any

workmen except those in his drafting room. This

aspect of the change was not altogether unwelcome, as he considered the business part of the job

bothersome. Glad to be rid of that headache, Walter looked forward to spending more time engaged

in purely architectural pursuits. He could not have

easily foreseen that from his drafting board he

would watch the Capitol extension project veer

from the course he and the Fillmore administration

had charted for it.

The newly appointed secretary of war, Jefferson Davis, was responsible for taking the extension

project from the Department of the Interior and

placing it under the authority of the War Department. His early role in the matter ended when he

quit the Senate on September 23, 1851, to run

(unsuccessfully) for governor of Mississippi. Davis’

interest in the Capitol extension was undiminished

by his two-year absence from Washington, however, and soon after joining President’s Pierce’s

cabinet on March 7, 1853, he maneuvered the project into his department. To manage day-to-day

affairs, Davis appointed Montgomery C. Meigs engineer in charge. Meigs was a captain in the Army

Corps of Engineers, the government bureau most

experienced at dealing with large construction

projects. At the same time, Davis put Meigs at the

head of the Washington Aqueduct and the Patent

Office extension, thus giving the engineer charge

of three of Washington’s most ambitious public

ventures. Both graduates of West Point, Davis and

Meigs saw eye-to-eye on most issues, and, despite

the obvious difference in rank, they were compatible and sympathetic colleagues.

At age 36 Meigs took the reins of the Capitol

extension project with gusto, immersing himself in

the study of architecture, acoustics, heating, ventilation, and decorating. Included in the orders he

received from the secretary of war were instructions to pay close attention to the practical aspects

of the new legislative chambers. The overriding

objective was to provide healthy chambers where

the nation’s legislators could hear and speak with

ease. Inspections of acoustically successful assembly rooms and visits to the marble quarry in Massachusetts were authorized in the orders. Meigs was

instructed to make a thorough examination of the

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Capitol with a New Dome (Detail) 

by Thomas U. Walter, ca. 1855

The Athenaeum of Philadelphia
216 History of the United States Capitol

foundations as well, because “unfavorable reports

have been spread abroad.” Of course, the strength

of the foundations had already been well documented. Apparently motivated by a determination

that the Capitol not become the laughingstock of

condescending foreigners, Davis’ directive is indicative chiefly of his desire for the favorable opinion

of the European community.

Construction of the Capitol extension and the

Patent Office extension was left to Meigs to devise

as he saw fit. There could be no question about

Meigs’ authority or the power Davis vested in the

captain of engineers:

As upon you will rest the responsibility for the

proper and economical construction of these

buildings, you will consider yourself fully

empowered to make such changes in the present administration as you may deem necessary,

and to regulate the organization hereafter as

your experience may dictate.1

Walter reacted silently to the change in

administration. Although the recent events could

hardly be viewed as a vote of confidence, neither

had he been dismissed; further, the move to make

William Easby the project’s disbursing agent had

thankfully failed. The biggest thorn in Walter’s

side was plucked when the president appointed

Solon Borland minister to Nicaragua. With these

antagonists out of the picture the prospects for

peace looked good.

With the administrative changes made at the

Capitol, Robert Mills, now seventy-two years old

and out of work, saw an opportunity to replace

Walter. At the end of Fillmore’s presidency Mills

presented petitions signed by members of the

House of Representatives and Senate asking the

president to “restore” him to the office of architect

of the Capitol, a post he supposedly held in the

Jackson, Van Buren, and Taylor administrations.

(Mills never held such an office, nor did an office

with the title of “architect of the Capitol” exist during his lifetime.) In the opening days of the new

administration he wrote Pierce, Davis, and Meigs

claiming that although his plans had been adopted

by the Senate and approved by the president, 

Walter had been hired to execute them. Simple

justice, Mills argued, demanded Walter’s removal.2

Possibly Mills justified the misrepresentation as

a means to put food on his family’s table. When this

application failed, he asked to be appointed 

Jefferson Davis

Mathew Brady Photograph, ca. 1860

Senate Historical Office

Soldier, statesman, and only president of the Confederate States of America, Davis (1808–1889) represented

Mississippi in the House and Senate prior to becoming

secretary of war under President Franklin Pierce in

1853. His direction of the war department was one of

the few successes in an otherwise lackluster administration. Through Captain Meigs, he supervised the work on

the Capitol extension and new dome, approving changes

to the floor plan and encouraging a comprehensive

approach to interior decorations. Davis’ taste and opinions greatly influenced design decisions.

At the end of the Pierce administration Davis

returned to the Senate where he chaired the Committee

on Military Affairs. He defended military control of

building projects in Washington and used his influence

to keep Meigs in power. Davis continued to promote

their plans following Meigs’s removal in 1859. After Mississippi seceded from the Union in 1861, Davis left the

Senate to embark on another phase of his career, one

that would overshadow his contributions to the design

and construction of the Capitol extension and dome.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 217

commissioner of public buildings. After Pierce

appointed an old friend and fellow New Hampshirite Benjamin B. French to that post, Mills asked

Davis to recommend him for a job in the Capitol

extension drafting room. He would consider any

employment because he was “without means of

providing the necessary wants of my family.” Davis

forwarded the request to Meigs, who endorsed the

letter with a stern memorandum:

There would be manifest impropriety in

employing upon the Capitol a gentleman who

is a rival of the architect who made the designs

& who claims the merit . . . I have seen some of

Mr. Mills working drawings of the Patent Office

& I should not be willing to trust to his assistance in carrying on this work. As a draftsman

Mr. Mills was tried in the Engineer office & not

found qualified.3

ALTERING 

THE FLOOR PLANS

By the end of May 1853, Meigs had

exposed the foundations to the bottom of the footings and bored through

them in various spots to allow a thorough inspection. He concluded that they were sufficient to

bear the weight of the proposed structure but

noted that the mortar would have dried sooner if

more hydraulic lime had been used.4 While the

foundations were being reexamined, Meigs and

Walter were working on significant changes to the

floor plans of the extension, relocating the legislative chambers from the western half of the wings

to their centers. The changes were Meigs’ idea,

and the plans were worked out and drawn by Walter. The engineer reported:

The plans were prepared by the accomplished

architect, Mr. Thomas U. Walter; and I am happy

in being supported in his opinion, that not only

will the legislative halls be better adapted to

their main purpose as rooms for debate, but

that the architectural beauty and the convenience of the buildings will be increased by the

changes which have been made.5

President Fillmore had favored chambers with

a western exposure to allow views of the welltended lawn and the tree-shaded Mall. In Walter’s

1851 plans the Senate chamber was designed with

Captain Montgomery C. Meigs

ca. 1855

After six and a half years as supervising engineer

of the Capitol, Meigs (1816–1892) left indelible marks

upon the extension and new dome. From mechanical

ventilation to painted decorations, from tile floors to

sculptural enrichments, Meigs’ imprint was seen everywhere. He came to believe that the Capitol was more a

legacy than a job, and he worked tirelessly to make it as

sturdy and beautiful as possible.

Meigs’ most significant engineering achievement

was the Washington Aqueduct, authorized in 1852 to

provide the federal city and Georgetown with a municipal water system. Among its feats was the Cabin John

Bridge, a 220-foot single-span masonry arch—the world’s

largest for more than forty years. At the beginning of the

Civil War President Lincoln named Meigs quartermaster

general, a crucial post that was perfectly suited to his

organizational and management talents. In 1882 Meigs

began construction of the Pension Building in Washington, D. C., which he designed using the Palazzo Farnese

in Rome as a model. Today it houses the National Building Museum.
218 History of the United States Capitol

twenty-five windows and the House chamber was

to have twice that number. But the plans also

showed that legislators going to and from their

chambers would be obliged to pass through public

corridors that were likely to be thronged with lobbyists and sightseers. A similar situation already

existed in the old Capitol and was the source of

many complaints. Meigs came up with the idea of

relocating the chambers to the center of each wing,

placing doors on all four walls, and surrounding

them with lobbies and corridors, some of which

could be made strictly private. Thus, the public

could be kept at arm’s length if necessary. “No one

who has seen the crowds which collect in the public lobbies of the houses during the last days and

nights of a session of Congress,” Meigs wrote, “can

fail to understand the disadvantages of this single

entrance, and the great advantages of the public

and private communication of the new plan.”

While the new plan would improve circulation

and egress, it also meant that the pleasant garden

views were never to materialize: the new chambers

were designed without windows. Light and air

would be supplied by artificial means, challenges

that perfectly suited Meigs’s love of science and

mechanical engineering. Every aspect of the interior environment could be mechanically controlled,

freeing it from the vagaries of the outside weather.

Steam-powered fans could ventilate the chambers,

while gas lighting and skylights would eliminate

the need for windows. However, although the

power of gas and steam made it possible to design

windowless chambers, Meigs failed to anticipate

the psychological effect such rooms would have on

future legislators. Windowless chambers and

mechanical ventilation were to become the most

controversial features of the Capitol extension

project, hotly debated and routinely condemned

well into the twentieth century.

Meigs claimed that rooms without windows

were well suited for speaking and hearing. He reasoned that in winter windows separating warm air

inside from cold air outside promoted descending

sheets of cold drafts that were harmful to persons

of “sensitive nerves” or “feeble health.” 6 By preventing drafts, windowless rooms would be healthful, which, in turn, would nurture strong speaking

voices. From skylights, Meigs claimed,

we obtain a pleasanter light, ample for all useful purposes, as proved by its adoption in all

the best constructed picture galleries. We also

exclude the sounds of the exterior, which,

saturating the air as it were, distract the attention, and even overpower the voice we wish to

hear. . . . Open windows for hearing will be

worse than closed ones; they not only let irregular, disturbing currents of air in, but they let

the voice out.... 7

In the revised plan, galleries could be placed

around four sides of the chambers. Visitors would

ascend to the gallery level on broad flights of marble stairs. “These stairs will be the most stately in

the country,” Meigs promised, “and when embellished with our beautiful native marbles will, I trust,

compare favorably with any abroad.” A corridor on

the first floor lined with Corinthian columns was

designed to run the width of the south wing, and

vestibules with coupled marble columns were provided at the principal entrance to each wing on the

second floor. Emphasis would be placed on architectural and decorative variety to avoid monotonous repetition.

Meigs described the new plans in terms of richness, luxury, and elegance, reflecting the administration’s determination that the Capitol extension

should compare favorably with the great buildings

of Europe. The previous administration had been

more economy minded, intending the interior finishes to match the old building’s whitewashed walls

and stone floors. But with Meigs in charge—

encouraged and backed by Davis—the interiors of

the new wings were destined to showcase the finest

materials worked by the best artists and craftsmen

to the everlasting credit of the nation and the

administration of Franklin Pierce. Walter, too, was

pleased at the notion of high style interiors,

although he would later disagree with some of the

methods used to achieve the effect.

The new plans and the new embellishments

were accommodated within the exterior that Walter had already designed. Adjustments to the foundations were necessary, but the work was at a point

where that could be done without much loss. The

only exterior alteration that Meigs suggested was

the addition of pediments to the east porticoes.

Walter’s original design did not call for pediments

because he felt that the entrances to the wings

should not overshadow the central entrance into

the rotunda. But Meigs intended the entrances to

the extension—both outside and inside—to be as

grand as possible and ordered pediments placed
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 219

on the porticoes. American sculptors would be

commissioned to fill them with beautiful specimens

of their art, making up for the poverty of design

that Meigs found in Persico’s three figures standing

in the central pediment. For the doorways sheltered by the porticoes, as well as the entrances

into the connecting corridors inside, monumental

bronze doors would be commissioned to greet legislators and the public with artistic grandeur rivaling Ghiberti’s baptistery doors in Florence.

On May 19, 1853, Meigs submitted the revised

plan of the south wing for the president’s consideration, intending to present a similar plan for the

north wing if the first one was approved. Before a

decision was made, the engineer was off to

Philadelphia, New York, and Boston inspecting

auditoriums to help evaluate the probable success

of the chambers as rooms for speaking and hearing. Meigs left Washington on June 8 in the company of Joseph Henry, the secretary of the

Smithsonian Institution, and Alexander D. Bache

of the Coast Survey. In Philadelphia, the trio visited Girard College, the Music Fund Hall, Eastern

Penitentiary, and Robert Mills’ circular Sansom

Street Baptist Church.8 They then traveled to New

York to inspect hotels, churches, and lecture halls.

In Boston they visited the new music hall, the Massachusetts Statehouse, Faneuil Hall, and the vaults

under the Beacon Hill reservoir. Upon returning

home Bache and Henry recommended to the president that Meigs’ revised plans be adopted pending

further study.9 Their recommendation was made

on June 24, 1853, and the president approved the

revised plan for the south wing three days later.

The revised plan for the north wing was finished

on July 5 and approved immediately.

Construction of the wings had been suspended

while the president decided whether to adopt the

new arrangement or continue with the old one.

Walter regretted that the lull occurred during nice

weather but kept busy finishing up the last details

of the library reconstruction. In July he took his

family to Cape May for a holiday, and upon returning he wrote a friend describing the perils of leaving town for a vacation:

Here I am again in this center point of civilization, with as uncivil a set of fellows about me

as you could well imagine—one would think

that after being away some time they would

have forgotten me and learned to go on their

own hook, but no such good luck; almost every

body I meet seems to have a string of questions as long as a fence rail, and my Capt.

keeps after me with whips and spurs from

morning to night—this going away to rusticate

is not what it is cracked up to be; every thing

gets behind hand.... 10

While the architect was “rusticating” at the

New Jersey seashore, granite from Richmond was

being installed on the foundations. Above the

granite, the lower courses of marble were being

put on the outside walls. The marble was shipped

by railroad from Lee, Massachusetts, to Bridgeport, Connecticut, where it was transferred to

steamers for the Atlantic voyage to the Chesapeake Bay and up the Potomac River. Rice & Baird

leased a wharf at the foot of New Jersey Avenue,

on the banks of the Anacostia River, where cranes

were used to unload the ships. As the stone came

off, John C. Harkness, the government’s “sworn

measurer,” made an account of each block, measured its size, determined its value, and rejected

any that was unfit. Walter observed that Harkness

had a large private business and “don’t choose to

give Uncle Sam more time than he finds convenient,” but the architect also felt he was not paid

nearly enough for the responsibilities of the job.11

Keeping track of the inventory was “old grannie

Bryant,” the marble clerk who was slow, dishonest

(in Walter’s opinion), and was working only for his

salary, “not for the love of being useful.” The bills

were made out by Zephaniah Denham and sent to

Meigs for signature. If any question arose, Meigs

sent the papers back for clarification or correction. It could take weeks or months for the contractors to be paid for their marble, and Walter

occasionally tried to speed things along. In Meigs’

judgment, the architect sometimes appeared too

friendly with the marble contractors.

When Meigs first took charge, he discovered

that the outside walls were at least one inch, and

sometimes as much as four inches, too thick. The

window sills on the east front were more than an

inch higher than those on the western side. He

vowed to keep a closer watch on the masonry

department. In his private journal Meigs kept a

careful account of the number of bricks laid each

day, noting which masons laid the most bricks,

how much bricklaying cost, and indeed every

aspect of the Capitol’s brick business. On August
220 History of the United States Capitol

Revised Plan of the

South Wing, 

Principal Story

by Thomas U. Walter and

Montgomery C. Meigs

1853.

Soon after Meigs took control, he and Walter revised the

floor plans to bring the legislative chambers to the center of

each wing. There, Meigs

thought, the absence of windows would result in better

rooms for speaking and hearing, and mechanical ventilation would be more

dependable than nature’s own

breezes. Multiple sets of doors

on all sides of the chambers

also improved circulation.

President Franklin Pierce

and Secretary of War Jefferson Davis approved the

revised plan for the south

wing on June 27, 1853.

Revised Plan of 

the North Wing,

Principal Story

by Thomas U. Walter and

Montgomery C. Meigs 

1853

Principal features of the

revised plans included two

sets of monumental stairs for

the public to use when coming

to see Congress in session and

two sets of private stairs

exclusively for legislators.

President Franklin Pierce

and Secretary of War Jefferson Davis approved the

revised plan of the north wing

on July 5, 1853.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 221

3, 1853, for instance, he noted that he had fifty

bricklayers on the job but hoped to hire twenty

more. The following week he had sixty men, who

laid a total of 43,000 bricks a day using ninety-one

barrels of cement. Three weeks later the number

of bricks laid climbed to 53,000 a day. At that rate

Meigs calculated that it cost exactly $4.07 to lay

1,000 bricks.

Brick was bought from six suppliers, whose

daily deliveries barely kept up with demand. In

September Meigs went on a brick-finding expedition; while away he wrote Walter with the suggestion to use what was called “clouded marble” for

caryatids intended for the lower vestibules. The

pronounced blue veining of some of the Lee marble made it unsuitable for the exterior walls, but

for interiors it might prove useful as well as beautiful. Walter’s reply illustrates the cordial nature of

their early collaboration and provides insights into

the workings of an architect’s mind:

I like your suggestion as to Heebner’s clouded

marble for the interior of the Basement; I think

it would be very beautiful and appropriate.

—the colonnade running through the south

wing would look well of the lighter shades of

blue and white, as the light at both ends will be

bright—by the way I hope we shall yet get the

ceiling and all the pilasters of this corridor in

marble, or whatever we adopt for the columns;

I think this ought be the grand feature of the

basement—The eastern vestibule will be dark,

and as it is entered directly from the deep double arcade, and has no other light, I think it

should have a crypt-like appearance, and I have

even questioned whether it would not look better to repeat the outside rustic piers, but of

smaller proportions, and polish them. Your idea

of Caryatids is a very beautiful one, but don’t

you think they would do better in the principal

story where they would be in a good light? 12

As in Latrobe’s experience almost forty years earlier, caryatids were not to materialize inside the

Capitol, but a considerable quantity of “clouded

marble” would be used.

These sculptural musings did not distract

Meigs from his immediate quest to find a reliable

supply of brick. The need was urgent because of

Cornelius Wendell’s failure to make good on a contract for ten million bricks. Meigs visited brickyards in Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York,

striking deals to buy all the bricks he could. He

was afraid the lack of brick would delay construction and make it possible for Congress to order a

Transverse 

Section, South

Wing, Looking East

by Thomas U. Walter

1857

Although the 

chambers were relocated

in 1853, their general size

and architectural treatment remained essentially

as Walter had designed

them in 1851. The rectangular House chamber

remained two stories

high, surrounded by a

gallery, and covered by a

flat iron and glass ceiling

carried from iron trusses

in the attic space.
222 History of the United States Capitol

restoration of the floor plans back to Walter’s originals. Any claim he might have as an architectural

collaborator would then be dashed, and history

would remember that he merely built someone

else’s design. And that was not enough credit for

Meigs, who was particularly sensitive to his legacy

and to his place in history. He drove the works

relentlessly to the point of no return.

DISTANT THUNDER

C onsidering past experiences, Walter

dreaded the opening of Congress. He

did not know what would upset members this year, but he knew that something would

become the center of controversy before long. He

faced the gathering storm with a sense of helplessness.13 Although the bitter battle over the KansasNebraska Act would soon drive factions in

Congress farther apart over the slavery issue, the

session started quietly. Visits to the new iron

library were a favorite diversion and brought its

architect well-deserved and almost unanimous

praise. An unflattering comment, however, was

made by Henry A. Wise, a former member of the

House from Virginia, who dismissed the room as

“all gammon, frippery, [and] tinsel.” The remark

was overheard by Librarian of Congress John Meehan, who was happy to hear someone complain

because if everybody liked it, something was surely

wrong.14 In a contemporary account of the room

written for The Crayon, a New York art journal

edited by John Durand, another critic thought the

new room was more forbidding than the old one:

I should have liked an opinion of the new, and

fire-proof library—all iron, save the floor, of

stone. Despite its delicate tint of ‘Portland

Stone,’ its heavy iron cornices, massive brackets, cast into every vegetable beauty of cornu-copiae, its liberal sprinkling with two

thousand dollars worth of California gold, its

straightest of all strait lines, so sharp, so many,

that I never dared to lean anywhere—despite

all these improvements and expenses, the old

library, simple and unostentatious, its arched

recesses affording something like retirement,

(each one containing a chair and a writing

table) the sober hue of its mahogany woodwork, was far pleasanter to my unlearned 

eyes and imagination. Cases of medals hung

around then, portraits of our elder Presidents,

and some others, agreeable to all beholders.

Such things are no longer permitted: they

would interfere with the supremacy of the castiron ornaments.15

As the session dragged into summer, heat

buildup in the attic made the library’s reading room

uncomfortable. To exhaust hot air from the space

between the iron ceiling and the roof, Walter asked

Pringle Slight to replace a solid door with a louvered one. “Please attend to it as soon as possible,” Walter wrote, “as Mr. Meehan is being roasted

alive.” 16 The underside of the glass skylights on

the roof was painted to block direct rays of the

sun to help cool the library. Following the architect’s suggestion, white paint was tinted with skyblue to promote an atmospheric effect.17

While Walter tried to control the temperature

in the iron library, his friend and congressional

champion Richard Stanton was steaming for purely

political reasons. At the start of the session he was

deposed as chairman of the Committee on Public

Buildings, and he intended to stir up trouble to

show his unhappiness.18 He planned to introduce a

resolution inquiring into the cost of changing the

plans of the extension, plans about which he had

had a good deal of say in 1851. The resolution also

inquired into the circumstances surrounding “military rule” at the Capitol and other civilian projects.

Walter tried to dissuade the congressman from

making these inquiries because he was satisfied

with things as they were and wished to avoid

squabbles. Battles like the one he now foresaw

produced only “calumny, slander, lies, and every

demon that envy and malice can conjure up from

all of which I say ‘Good Lord deliver us.’” But

Stanton pressed his inquiry, and Walter’s prayers

for peace went unanswered.

On January 23, 1854, the Senate took up consideration of an army appropriation bill containing

$325,000 for the Capitol extension. Robert W.

Johnson, who had taken Borland’s seat in the Senate, addressed his colleagues with concerns about

a civil project being undertaken by the military:

This Capitol is not a fort. It is not an arsenal. It

is not a barracks for troops. It has no connection to military affairs. I would gladly vote to

keep the Army disconnected from this portion

of the public buildings. The appropriation does

not rightly belong to this bill. To retain it here

is against all precedent. There is no sympathy,
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 223

no connection between the object of the appropriation and its position in this bill.19

Johnson admitted that he understood the president assigned the extension project to the secretary of war because of Davis’ “capacity, taste, and

judgment.” The assignment had, however, nothing

to do with the military affairs of the country. He

wondered who would replace Davis if he left the

cabinet. Would the works go to the postmaster

general next?

Lewis Cass of Michigan voiced concerns about

the new plan for the Senate chamber. He had studied the new scheme in Meigs’ office and thought

that too much emphasis was given to appearances

and not enough to utility. “Architects,” Cass concluded gravely, “sacrifice everything to beauty.”

But the lack of windows in the chamber was what

worried Cass the most:

Mr. President, it has seemed to me that the air

and light of heaven were good enough; but the

new room designed for the Senate Chamber, in

the Capitol extension, I understand is not

exposed to the atmosphere on any side. It is

absolutely in a state of isolation. There are passages between the walls of the new Senate

Chamber and the extension wall of the building, preventing the air of heaven from coming

in. The air is to be pumped up, or pumped

down, by some kind of machine, nobody knows

what. I think, however, it is too late now to

make any changes in it. I must leave to my successors to ascertain whether the building will

suit them or not.20

Senators then bantered back and forth about

the merits of the plan until Senator Johnson

demanded to know where the steam-powered fans

would be located. “I should be glad to know,” he

said, “because I have heard of explosions of steam

engines.” 21 This statement drew gales of laughter,

which encouraged Johnson to elaborate on the

thought and pose a second question: he wanted to

know what horsepower the steam engines were to

be. In any event, the concept reminded him of Guy

Fawkes and the pile of combustibles once placed

under the Parliament building in London.

Amid nervous chuckles, Johnson’s question

was referred to the architect. The image of the

Senate being blown sky-high seemed to deflate

any seriousness left in the day’s business. The last

word came from George E. Badger of North Carolina, whose common sense challenged the modern manner of mechanically heating and ventilating the new chamber:

I would go back to the old-fashioned notions of

our forefathers. When we want cool air in a

room, I would open a window and let it come

in itself. It needs no forcing. It comes with

readiness if you give it a fair opportunity. Then

with regard to the heated air, which, by a provision of nature, I am told, for I do not understand these things philosophically, will

gradually get higher and higher as it gets

warmer and warmer, you have nothing to do

but to have a comfortable little ventilator at

the top, and you will soon get rid of it. But this,

sir, is the age of improvement; this is the age of

progress; and I fear that my friend from Michigan [Lewis Cass] and myself will, in consequence of the remarks we have made today, be

stamped ‘old fogies’ forever.22

Shortly after Badger took his seat, the Senate

adjourned without voting on the appropriation to

continue the Capitol extension. But it had been a

jolly, good-natured afternoon.

During this period Meigs studied Rice & Baird’s

contract and hoped to amend it so that the outside

walls could be faced with thicker blocks of marble

than originally specified. He also wanted most, if

not all, of the 100 exterior column shafts to be

wrought from a single stone. As it stood, the contract allowed shafts to be made of drums four or

more feet long. Like Joseph Elgar during the

Bulfinch era, Meigs felt that monolithic shafts

would contribute to the building’s grandeur and

stability. Shafts wrought from a single stone would

cost $1,400 apiece, which was $300 more than a

shaft composed of two or more stones. Congress

agreed to Meigs’ recommendations without

debate, and on March 1, 1854, he was granted the

authority to enter into a supplemental contract

for these items.

Meanwhile, on February 13, 1854, the House

had appointed Richard Stanton chairman of a

select committee to investigate military superintendence at the Capitol, armories, and custom

houses. Stanton’s committee was strikingly similar to Houston’s Senate committee, which had

hounded Walter a year earlier. There was considerable sympathy with Stanton’s position among

those who saw “military rule” (as it was invariably called) as expensive and arbitrary. Walter

dreaded Stanton’s work and hoped it would not

alter the administrative arrangement that he
224 History of the United States Capitol

liked so well. He recounted his admiration for

Meigs to his father-in-law just as Stanton began

his trouble making:

The Capt. is as noble a man as the country can

produce, and he is better fitted for his post

than any one they could find whether soldier

or civilian, and I most sincerely desire that he

may not be removed; such a thing would be a

disaster for the country in general and me in

particular—you have no idea what a luxury it

has been to me during the past year to be able

to devote myself to the legitimate professional

duties, and be freed from the annoyances of

contractors, appointments, disbursements, and

the like, all of which take time, unhinge the

mind, and create an army of enemies.23

Walter’s position was growing awkward.

Despite his admiration for Meigs, friends such as

Stanton attacked military rule as, among other

things, contrary to law. When the responsibility for

disbursements was taken from the architect, Stanton claimed, Congress had intended to place it in

the hands of a minor official who would simply

look after accounts. Instead of assigning a clerk to

write checks, however, President Pierce placed

the works in the hands of a dynamic engineer who

made changes to the approved plans, fiddled with

architectural details, and commissioned expensive

works of art. That was certainly more than Congress had bargained for. Defending the status quo

were some of Walter’s other friends; Congressman

Chandler, for example, was among those who

spoke in favor of Meigs and the Army Corps of

Engineers. Meanwhile, Davis grew to distrust Walter, viewing him with suspicion and thinking he

might be behind the efforts to wrest the Capitol

extension from the War Department. Meigs did not

share the secretary’s suspicions and defended Walter. For his part, Walter thought his best stance

among the competing interests was to keep a low

profile and stay quiet for the time being. When

summoned before Stanton’s committee, Walter

expected its members wanted him to speak out

against the War Department, but he was ready: “I

have been too long under the harrow,” he said,

“not to know how to dodge the prongs.” 24

After completing his investigation, Stanton

gave a long address in the House on the subject of

military rule at the Capitol. He began by questioning the fact that Meigs was permitted to draw

money from the treasury without posting a bond

or giving security as civil agents were required to

do. “Are Army officers a better order of men? Have

they more integrity than other men?” Stanton

asked sarcastically. The intent of the law separating the architect from disbursements had been

that monies should be handled by a civilian, Stanton claimed, but its effect had been that an army

officer now acted as the disbursing agent, architect, and superintendent. Meigs had

complete control over every other officer, and

every part of the works. He makes contracts

with whom he pleases; he purchases materials

when and where he chooses; he employs

mechanics and laborers, and pays for all of them

by his own check or order . . . . Captain Meigs

may be accomplished in his profession; he may

know how to lay out the grounds for encampments and fortifications, to construct fortifications and military roads. These are the duties in

which he has had experience, and for which

the Government educated him. I will not deny

him the merit of being a proficient in these

duties; but that he was qualified for the intricate and elaborate architectural details of such

a work as the Capitol is beyond all reason.25

Meigs’ handling of the brick buying business

was also questioned. According to Stanton’s version of the story, Meigs rejected offers from local

brick makers and went off to Philadelphia and New

York, where he struck deals that resulted in brick

costing almost eleven dollars per thousand—local

bricks, “of infinitely better quality,” would have

cost just seven or eight dollars. Aggravating this

outrageous business was the fact that brick from

other cities was about 30 percent smaller than

Washington brick.

Stanton went on to denounce the changes that

Meigs made to Walter’s original design. The architect was a civilian with an appreciation for what

things cost, as well as how things looked. He was a

man of refined taste, a man of great skill and experience. The design for the Capitol extension, “in all

its beautiful proportions and elaborate details,” was

his creation. Being a military man, Stanton claimed,

Meigs liked neither Walter’s plans nor Walter’s economy. The increased thickness that he had ordered

in the marble facing would entail a needless additional expenditure. His desire to use monolithic

shafts would increase the price of these parts of

the columns from $680 to $1,400. “Here, then, is an

additional expenditure of over $700 on each of a
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 225

hundred columns” Stanton said, “made necessary

by the magnificent ideas of the engineer.”

Stanton next condemned on principle the

notion of military officers overseeing civilian projects. Before concluding with a call for change, he

denounced the revised design for the House and

Senate chambers. Particularly bothersome was the

proposed method of ventilating the windowless

rooms by forcing air down through holes in the

ceilings and out through openings in the carpets.

A similar plan, he asserted, had been adopted for

the House of Commons in London and found to be

“a noxious folly.” Stanton quoted an English source

saying that members of the House of Commons sat

in their hall with their feet at sixty-eight degrees,

their middles at seventy-one degrees, and their

heads at seventy-three degrees. “Thus their feet

would be freezing,” Stanton concluded, “while

their heads were scorching.” Now Americans were

about to repeat Britain’s mistakes, thanks to this

“specimen of military engineering.” Until he lost

his seat in 1855, Stanton kept up his attacks on

Meigs and rarely lost an opportunity to praise Walter, which unintentionally caused a strain in the

Capitol extension office.

Meigs took scant notice of Stanton’s speech.

During the height of the 1854 building season the

engineer kept up his breakneck pace and pushed

the works with all his might. Most members of

Congress did not share Stanton’s view, and when it

came time to vote an appropriation no one spoke

against it. On July 7, 1854, an additional $750,000

was appropriated by the House to continue the

extension: it was approved by the Senate and

signed into law on August 4. With about $450,000

unexpended from the previous appropriation,

Meigs had a princely sum—about $1.2 million—on

hand for the Capitol.

A FIREPROOF DOME

The same day that Stanton attacked

Meigs in the House, Representative

Joseph Chandler spoke strongly in

favor of the Washington Aqueduct. A modern municipal water system was necessary for many reasons,

but Chandler thought fire protection was the most

vital. He was quite concerned about the Capitol in

general and its wooden dome in particular:

I hope, sir, this Capitol is not destined to burn

again. I hope not; but I say to you, there is not

a shanty within a hundred miles of this city

which is such a complete tinder-box as is this

Capitol. You may look around and see these

marble cornices; and you may look on the floor

and see it laid in brick and mortar, and say that

fire cannot reach them.

But, sir, there is a dome over the center building of this Capitol which invites fire. There is

a nest of dry materials there, covered over

with tarred paper, that seems almost to

threaten conflagration without the use of the

torch—a spontaneous combustion. When, two

years since, the library of this House was

destroyed for want of a little water—when

$200,000 were lost there for want of a little

water—then, sir, it was nothing but the accidental placing of a military force upon the spiral stairs of the House that kept the fire from

reaching that dome.26

When Chandler addressed the House, on June

14, 1854, Walter was already in the throes of

designing a new cast-iron dome for the Capitol.

Considering their long friendship, the congressman doubtless had seen drawings in Walter’s office

and was laying the groundwork for its authorization. Exactly who originated the latest idea for a

new dome is unclear, but talk of one had been

around for years. A new fireproof roof over the

rotunda, in the form of a noble dome, would be an

improvement appreciated by almost everyone. Not

only would it be safe from fire, but it would also

rid the Capitol of the wooden dome that had been

the source of national embarrassment since the

Monroe administration. Replacing it would be a fitting conclusion to the architectural improvements

then under way.

Walter recorded working on a dome design for

the first time in his diary on May 31, 1854. His second reference was contained in a letter written on

July 20, 1854, to Charles Fowler, whose iron business was lagging during a depression in the construction industry. To cheer him up, Walter (who

referred to himself as “Mr. Fogey,” a playful version of “old fogey”) wrote about the prospects of

large orders for iron coming from his office:

Mr. Fogey has also completed a magnificent

dome for the Capitol all to be of cast iron.—it

is 264 feet high, of such proportions as throw

all other domes in the shade—every member
226 History of the United States Capitol

of Congress who has seen it is enthusiastically

in its favor, and is ready to vote the supplies

whenever asked—will cost half a million at

least—such a design was never made by your

friend—the drawing is 7 feet long—I wish you

could see it—now the Capt. agrees with me

that nobody but you can do it—and my opinion is that you will do it; but like everything

else at Washington, it will be a long time before

we get at it—I think we shall have an appropriation next winter.27

While designing this new dome, Walter studied prints of the great domes of Europe, scrutinizing Renaissance, baroque, and neoclassical designs

for ideas. He had firsthand knowledge of some of

these domes, having been sent to Europe in 1838

by the building committee of Girard College. While

in London, Paris, and Rome, he encountered many

domed buildings and examined the best and most

famous of them, and he set forth his observations

on the public buildings of Europe in a 180-page

report.28 This fascinating document contains information about new building technologies, the performance and longevity of materials, and

mechanical and sanitary improvements, all of

which were deemed useful in planning the college.

Walter paid close attention to St. Paul’s in London,

St. Peter’s in Rome, and the Panthéon in Paris.

Although at the time too steeped in the aesthetics of Grecian architecture to admire the

bravado of Wren’s baroque masterpiece, Walter

had kind words to say about its dome and particularly admired the sweep of the unbroken entablature above the colonnade. To his eye it provided a

welcome sense of unity:

St. Paul’s

As respects the Architectural taste of St. Paul’s,

I can say little in its favor . . . the multiplicity of

breaks and incongruous forms which the whole

composition abounds (excepting only the

Dome) is found to destroy all repose and harmony; and to produce a confused effect that

interferes with every idea of beauty.

In the design of the Dome, and the peristyle

from which it rises, an opposite practice has

been pursued, and a most agreeable effect is

the result. Here we have breath of parts in

the Dome that affords repose to the eye, while

the continuous entablature of the Peristyle

forms a beautiful girdle around its base: but

all below this point fails to produce a single

agreeable sensation.

Moving to another great domed building, Walter’s thoughts on the papal seat in Rome were probably colored by his strong Protestant upbringing:

St. Peter’s Church

Notwithstanding the magnitude and costliness of St. Peter’s, it possesses very little

architectural merit . . . the immense dome the

outside diameter of which is 160 feet ‘swells

vast to heaven’ with a majesty and grandeur

that atones for the many faults in the minutia

of its design. 

His favorite dome in all of Europe was the

one in Paris crowning Jacques-Germain Soufflot’s

great neoclassical church, which was originally

built to honor St. Genevieve but later dedicated

to French national heroes. He was particularly

struck by the manner in which the interior was

formed, with a monumental painting viewed

through the wide oculus of an inner dome:

The Panthéon or Church of St. Genevieve

This is undoubtedly the most beautiful specimen

of Architecture in Paris.... The cupola is 66 feet

in diameter in the clear and consists of three

separate arches.... The inner or lower arch is

pierced with a large opening, through which is

seen the ceiling formed by the second arch,

which is ornamented with a painting representing an apotheosis of St. Genevieve.... The exterior dome is made with the single object of

producing a graceful contour to the composition.

To refresh his memory, Walter referred to

prints of the domes cited in his report, as well as a

few others. According to draftsman August Schoenborn, Walter also had views of the domes over Les

Invalides in Paris and St. Isaac’s Cathedral in St.

Petersburg, Russia. All influenced the initial design

for the Capitol’s new dome: all were classical; all

were set upon high, multistoried drums; and all

were topped by distinctive towers or lanterns.

Walter’s first scheme, illustrated in his sevenfoot-long drawing, showed a tall, ellipsoidal dome

standing on a two-story drum with a ring of forty

columns forming a peristyle surrounding the lower

half of the drum. The upper part of the drum was

enriched with decorated pilasters upholding a

bracketed attic. Crowning the composition was a

statue standing on a slender, columned tholus (the

lantern under the statue). The opulent ornamentation was in keeping with the French-inspired

rococo taste of the time, which had superseded
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 227

the notions of “chaste” simplicity expounded in

the heyday of the Greek revival. Hand-in-hand

with contemporary taste was the modern material

selected for the dome—a material with great

advantages over stone in terms of weight, expedition, and cost. Cast iron, cheaply and rapidly mass

produced in a factory, would permit a dome to be

built as big and as elaborate as one could wish.

Structural and decorative components that would

be expensive and time-consuming to carve in stone

could be imitated in iron at a small fraction of the

cost. Anyone doubting Walter’s talent at designing

ornamental ironwork needed only to visit the

Library of Congress to see firsthand the dazzling

effect of his skill.

The second session of the 33d Congress convened on December 4, 1854. When not in their

chambers, representatives and senators were

drawn in increasing numbers to the architect’s

office, where they could feast their eyes on Walter’s drawing showing the enlarged Capitol

crowned by a beautiful new dome. It would complete the Capitol’s transformation from a somewhat awkward building into a magnificent triumph

of classical grandeur. Although the drawing has

been lost for years, it is known through a surviving

photograph—a black and white image that surely

conveys only a fraction of the picture’s original

visual impact. Judging from Walter’s surviving presentation drawings, the large rendering must have

been a breathtaking sight. Elegant carriages,

prancing horses, and fashionably dressed gentlemen and ladies enhanced its artistic appeal. One

of the factors behind Walter’s success as an architect was the sense of prosperity and well-being he

was able to convey in his exquisite drawings.

Visiting Walter’s office was easier for legislators than in previous sessions. They no longer had

to cross A Street north and climb the stairs to the

rooms above Adams Express, for Meigs had outfitted three rooms in the new House wing for temporary offices. Walter himself felt the move was

premature, and when he took up quarters there

during the first week of September 1854 he was

nearly swamped in dirt and wood shavings and

upset by workmen finishing the room.29 By the

opening of Congress, however, everything was put

into place and the office was ready to welcome the

steady stream of visitors who came to inspect the

works. Meigs escorted legislators around and carefully recorded any compliments they paid him. He

showed them plans of the wings and pointed out

the dome drawing hanging in Walter’s neighboring

office (modern day H–142). While looking over the

Original Design of

New Dome on the

U. S. Capitol

by Thomas U. Walter

1854

This period photograph of Walter’s longlost drawing shows the

original design of the

iron dome. The drawing

was seven feet long and

attracted considerable

attention when it was

hung in the architect’s

office. Just ten weeks

after the drawing was finished, Congress authorized and funded work on

the new dome.
228 History of the United States Capitol

drawing, Meigs was occasionally asked about the

cost. Although an estimate had not been made, he

thought $200,000 might be a fair guess and quickly

added that he would be happy to build it. One

enthusiastic member cried “Let’s have it done!”

Meigs, however, concluded that “this is a joke and

probably will lead to nothing.” 30

With each congressional visit, momentum grew

for building the new dome. Walter preferred putting off construction until his workload subsided,

but Meigs could hardly wait to begin work. Dome

fever ran so high that some members wanted the

new dome to cover the whole Capitol.31 Caleb Lyon

of New York thought the new dome should be the

biggest one in the world.32 Meigs began sketching

alternative designs for a dome, including one with

flying buttresses for the sake of variety.33 Whatever

his sketches may have shown, he wanted the dome

to be as good as he could make it:

I wish to have something to do with this design

myself. I can make a little greater height and

more graceful outline and a very noble and

beautiful interior arrangement. I have in Parallels Des Edifices most of the domes in the

world of any celebrity, and I think mine is better than any one of them. I only wish I had it to

begin from bottom. The famous Pantheon in

Paris is only 60 or 70 span.... There are in this

church and in many other domes great beauties of detail, and the inside effects are generally better than the outside ones, I think. With

ours, I hope to have both good.34

Horatio Stone, the sculptor, stopped by Meigs’

office (modern day H–144) on December 28, 1854,

and introduced him to an Italian fresco artist

named Constantino Brumidi, who would soon figure prominently into Meigs’ art program at the

Capitol. After arranging for the artist to provide a

sample of his work, Meigs showed them Walter’s

dome drawing and a design that he had prepared.

He claimed that Stone preferred his design

because of its richness and grace.35

Writing in his journal the following evening,

Meigs expended a considerable amount of ink ranting about Walter’s dismissive and condescending

attitude when shown a dome design drawn by the

engineer. This was more than Meigs could bear. He

was tired of the architect garnering all the credit

for the architecture of the extension and new dome

while he himself was in charge and was due more

credit than was being given. He was tired of hearing Walter’s dome drawing praised to high heaven

while no one except Horatio Stone seemed to

notice that his design was as good or better. He

directed, he ordered, he controlled, he commanded—yet Walter got the credit. The suggestions he made to improve the appearance of

Walter’s dome design failed to receive the credit

they deserved. Writing furiously in Pitman shorthand, Meigs complained:

He [Walter] wished to have all the credit himself, and he will always claim all the credit of

all the design of the Capitol, plans and all, I

suppose, hereafter. The fact is that his designs

for the interior are his but little more than they

are August’s [Schoenborn], for they have been

made upon my directions. The arrangement of

the rooms is mine. The form of the ceiling is

mine. The style of decoration is that which I

directed. And the mere details of leaves, etc.

are worked up by him as they would have been

by August or any other draftsman.... The flowers and leaves are his, but only adopted after

having been subjected to my criticism and

approval after alteration to make them suit my

taste in almost every instance. So that, in fact,

the design is quite as much, if not more, mine

than his. As for the very dome which he will

call his, it is very different that from what he

first proposed. He altered and changed in consultation with me.... And for its construction

he followed my hints. Yet he would never allow

that I had the least claim of any merit in this

design. I told him when it was finished that it

was good, the best I had ever seen, but that it

would require much more study and many

changes before it would be in form to be built,

and to this he agreed. Now I think that the

design I have sketched out as a sketch is much

better than the other. Whether it will work up

as well, I can not tell till I try, and that I wish to

do. If better, I shall try to have it built. Even if I

am obliged to take my proper share of the

credit of its design, he has assumed the whole

merit till I am getting tired of it.36

In the privacy of his study, Meigs could rail

about one of America’s most distinguished architects without upsetting their working relationship

at the office. Meigs’ role in the design process was

similar to that of an editor-in-chief at a newspaper,

who consults with writers, approves certain things,

and changes, or disapproves others. While the final

product reflects his management and style, the

byline still carries the author’s name. Walter was

the architect, and no matter how useful Meigs’

suggestions or directions were he would not be
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 229

given the same credit as the architect. It was a

dilemma that disturbed Meigs a great deal.

In casual conversations with the nation’s legislators, Meigs recklessly promised that the new

dome could be finished by the opening of the next

Congress. To accomplish such an astonishing feat,

he considered setting up a foundry on the Capitol

grounds. That idea, however, was kept to himself

as he lobbied for the dome. He used the depressed

conditions in the iron industry as one reason to

support the venture. The fabrication of pieces for

such an enormous structure would revitalize

foundries up and down the east coast, Meigs

asserted, creating jobs and stimulating local

economies. To Senator Pearce of Maryland, for

instance, he wrote: “I think this season of universal depression in the iron trade a favorable one for

this work. Prices will be lower than they were last

year and the expenditures of money will be a most

grateful relief to a large number of necessitous but

worthy and industrious men.” 37

Meigs’ idea of casting ironwork at the Capitol

(which never materialized) would have done

foundries in Baltimore, New York, or Providence

little good. But swift completion of the dome

would boost his reputation as a man capable of

working wonders. On the last day of 1854, Meigs

wrote in his journal: “This I would like to put up

by such machinery and by such means as would

make it seem like fairy work. No dome of the magnitude of this has ever been built on a great public building except by years of toil. This one being

of iron, I could build with the money in a few

short months.” 38

Early in January 1855, Meigs was taken aback

to hear Congressman John Wiley Edmands of

Massachusetts criticize Walter’s dome design, not

because Edmands’ objections were unjust, but

because Meigs was so accustomed to hearing the

design praised so lavishly.39 Yet criticisms of the

dome or the architect were rare. Meigs was

annoyed with newspaper editors praising it and

giving Walter reason to boast.40 The papers promised that Walter would likely join the ranks of

Michelangelo in the world’s pantheon of great

dome designers. Feeling threatened and unappreciated, Meigs tried to come up with a design that

would be preferred to Walter’s.41 Unfortunately,

whatever dome studies he made have not survived.

On February 20, 1855, Meigs sent the House

Committee on Public Buildings draft legislation to

authorize construction of the iron dome. The chairman, however, did not think there was enough

time before the close of the session for his committee to consider it. Two days later, while the

House sat in Committee of the Whole, Richard

Stanton offered his own amendment providing

$100,000 for the dome. Stanton’s legislation stated

that the money would be expended under the

direction of the architect, which would exclude

Meigs and the War Department from the project.

He wanted quick approval so the dome would be

finished by the opening of the next Congress. His

brief address included high praise for Walter and

the architectural improvement promised by the

new dome:

The architect of the building has designed a

dome, the plan of which I have seen, and which

commends itself to my judgment; and which all

who have seen it say is most beautiful and perfect. It is well known that the present dome is

entirely too low to preserve the symmetry of

the building when the extensions are completed.

It will give it a squatty appearance, if I will be

allowed the expression. Unless this is done the

whole purpose of the extension, so far as its

beauty of construction is concerned, will be

defeated. Now, sir, I understand that the plan

proposed by the architect is a proper one, and

that it will not be attended with great cost. The

dome has always been an eye-sore to architects

and others who have taste in such matters; and

it seems to me that now is the appropriate time

to authorize the reconstruction of it. It can be,

perhaps, completed before we get back here

during the next fall.

I am requested to say that it is designed to construct it of cast iron, and from the experience

which the architect has had in these matters I

have no doubt he will make it a very perfect

thing. No man can look at the library, which is

constructed entirely of cast iron, without being

immediately convinced that such a structure

can be erected as will be a credit to the architect and the country.42

While others would vote against the amendment, only August Sollers of Maryland and Alfred

Greenwood of Arkansas spoke against the new

dome as a needless expense. A friend of Captain

Meigs, John Taylor of Ohio, thought the language

of the legislation indicated a split between the

architect and the engineer and asked why the

current arrangement would not continue during
230 History of the United States Capitol

construction of the dome.43 Stanton sensed that

Meigs’ friends would block authorization unless

the engineer was brought into the project, and he

therefore offered to strike the provision giving

Walter control. Satisfied, Taylor withdrew his

objections and the amendment was put to a vote.

It passed after Harry Hibbard of New Hampshire,

as chairman of the Committee of the Whole, cast

an “aye” vote to break what had been a seventyseventy tie.

Two days after the amendment passed, it was

accepted by a vote of the full House. The commissioner of public buildings, Benjamin B. French,

stopped by Meigs’ office and mentioned how

pleased he was to be given the opportunity to build

the new dome. As commissioner, he was responsible for the rotunda and old dome, and he viewed

the new dome as he would any repair to that part

of the Capitol. Although the bill made no mention

of who would be in charge, Meigs cited the debates

during which his name was put forth as the proper

officer to construct the iron dome. Still, French

persisted in the belief that he would be in charge.

Meigs immediately wrote senators to ensure that

the matter would be clarified when the legislation

was sent for their consideration. He was horrified

that the great new dome might be put into the

hands of “Goths and Vandals.” 44 To Senator Thomas

J. Pratt of Maryland Meigs said that he would be

mortified to be excluded from the work, which the

House intended for him.45 He told Senator William

C. Dawson of Georgia that he considered the new

dome a great engineering work and therefore

hoped to build it to reflect credit upon the Army

Corps of Engineers and West Point.46 These efforts

succeeded in placing construction of the dome

under the president, who would assign the work to

the War Department. With satisfaction, Meigs noted

that the “proper correction” had been made in the

Senate.47 On March 3, 1855, the president approved

the appropriation directing Meigs to build Walter’s

dome design.

On the same day that Pierce approved the

dome appropriation he also approved funds to

enlarge the Post Office and the Treasury Department buildings. Secretary Davis placed Captain

Alexander H. Bowman in charge of the treasury

project and Meigs in charge of the Post Office.

While both additions were designed by Walter, the

buildings were more closely associated with the

venerable Washington architect Robert Mills. Both

were built by Mills in the 1830s, and Mills had been

the architect of the Treasury Building. Although in

his seventies, he wanted the appointment of supervising architect for either or both buildings, but he

saw his hopes dashed when the works were put

under the War Department. According to one

account, his “disappointment was too much for

him. He became deranged and died.” 48

PRACTICAL

CONSIDERATIONS

Once legislation for the dome was signed

into law, Meigs and Walter found themselves with $100,000 but without working

plans or estimates of weight or cost. Except for

Walter’s handsome drawing, they had little to work

from other than the confidence that such a dome

could indeed be built on top of the nation’s Capitol. There had been no studies, no blue-ribbon

commissions, no outside experts to tell the architect or the engineer that their ideas were practical. With an undaunted confidence, however, and

a belief that no problem was without a solution,

the two men plunged into the gritty details to make

the iron dome a reality.

The first problem to be addressed was how to

support the columns of the lower peristyle. The

large drawing hanging in Walter’s office showed

forty columns carried on a new attic story built on

top on the center building. Part of the attic would

be carried by the masonry walls and part by the

columns of the east portico. After studying the

problem of adding an attic, Meigs, or his assistant

engineer Ottmar Sonnemann, devised a scheme

that dispensed with the attic altogether.49 Sturdy

iron brackets would be embedded in new brickwork laid on top of the rotunda walls to extend the

columns beyond the old structure. Thus the

columns would be cantilevered and would require

no support directly below: the expense of the attic

was therefore avoided. An iron skirt would hang

below the columns and give the peristyle the look

of a solid base. The number of columns was

reduced to thirty-six, a more convenient number

considering their placement along the 360 degrees

of a circle.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 231

Elevation of New Dome

by Thomas U. Walter, 1855

Soon after Congress appropriated funds to build the

new dome, Walter and Meigs worked out a practical

design based on realistic construction considerations.

The results differed somewhat from the first design. The

number of columns in the lower colonnade, for instance,

was reduced from forty to thirty-six to simplify their

placement along the 360 degrees of a circle.

Peristyle of Dome

by Thomas U. Walter, 1857

Cantilevering the columns of the peristyle on 

brackets allowed the diameter of the dome to exceed

the diameter of the rotunda, thus allowing the new

dome to be as large as possible.
232 History of the United States Capitol

Other refinements to the design that followed

the dome’s authorization included the addition of

windows to the cupola, the simplification of the

ribs, and the introduction of a band of anthemion

(or Grecian honeysuckle) to the base of the

cupola. The composition was still capped by a

statue standing on a tall tholus. Who or what the

statue portrayed would be decided later. The interior form and decoration were also studied. After

the brick, wood, and plaster inner dome was

removed, the lower forty-eight feet of the old

rotunda walls would remain in place and act as a

foundation for the new ironwork. Above Bulfinch’s

sandstone walls would be a row of iron panels and

View of the Capitol with the New Dome

by Thomas U. Walter, ca. 1855 

The Athenaeum of Philadelphia

This beautiful perspective shows the extension completed and the center crowned

by a new dome. Characteristically, Walter drew a spirited scene of carriages, horses,

and crowds of people in the foreground.

Section through

the New Dome 

and Rotunda

by Thomas U. Walter

ca. 1855

This early design

sought to make 

the rotunda as high 

as possible.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 233

a decorative frieze 300 feet long. Corinthian

pilasters set between arched windows would support an inner dome that would rise to a wide opening through which a second inner dome with

another set of windows and pilasters would be

seen. The whole interior composition was a somewhat undisciplined piling of classical ornament

and domical forms—literally creating a rotunda

above a rotunda. While not well proportioned, it

would have been very tall and very large, and,

therefore, very acceptable to American taste.

Removing Bulfinch’s dome was the first step

taken towards building the new one. By mid-September 1855, a scaffold had been built around the

outside dome to peel the copper covering off; a

second scaffold inside facilitated removal of the

inner dome. Meigs dispatched assistant engineer

Sonnemann to the Patent Office to study a model

of the scaffold used to erect Nelson’s Column in

London, hoping it would be useful in designing the

interior scaffold for the rotunda.50 Pringle Slight

warned Captain Meigs about the weak spot in the

center of the rotunda floor, where the circular

opening had been until it was closed at John Trumbull’s behest in 1828. Since Slight had helped to

plug the opening, he knew the floor conditions well.

Meigs designed the scaffold’s base with a triangular

footprint to stand clear of the floor’s vulnerable

center. Later, two “sticks” eighty feet long were

hoisted to the top of the scaffold to function as a

mast and boom to lift the ironwork into place. A

steam engine housed in a shack on the roof provided the power for hoisting the iron. With characteristic efficiency, Meigs fueled the engine with

wood salvaged from the old dome.

Before the inner and outer domes were demolished a temporary roof was placed over the rotunda

to protect it from the weather and from plummeting tools, materials, or unlucky workmen. Meigs

devised an ingenious conical roof resting on the

upper cornice of the rotunda, with a center opening through which the scaffold would pass. Wooden

rafters were covered with boards, which were then

covered with painted canvas. Cotton canvas was

also ordered to cover the rotunda’s paintings.

Twelve skylights were provided to light the rotunda

during construction. By the end of November most

of the demolition had been completed. Meigs was

grateful when workmen finished removing the plaster from the inner dome because it was such a dusty

job. He also noticed that some men crept around

the dome while others were unable to stand

upright.51 More than a few otherwise sturdy workmen were seized with acrophobia, a problem that

perpetually plagued construction.

In August 1855, the editor of The Crayon told

its readers that a new dome was about to be placed

on the nation’s Capitol: “The whole work is to be

of iron, from bottom to top, inside and outside. It

will be the first structure of its kind ever built of

this material.” Editorially The Crayon saw nothing wrong with the notion of an iron dome, but at

least one reader took exception. Writing anonymously, the critic observed:

The construction of the new dome is a violation of the true principles of design. Iron is to

be used in precisely the same form as if it were

stone; of course, the pillars will be cast hollow, and they will be painted to imitate the

marble. The extreme height of the dome, as it

is to be, for it is piled up with range of pillars

above range, and elevated as much as possible, will make violence in the general outline

of the mass. . . .

No! Mr. Thomas U. Walter will make a great

mistake, if he attempts to rear upon this long

line of building a dome of the greatest possible

height in order to gratify individual caprice or

personal ambition.52

As the writer made clear, not all Americans

were enamored with the idea of iron imitating

stone. However, although the importance of “honest” buildings and “truthful” materials was becoming a pesky issue within architectural circles, this

philosophical matter did not bother Walter, Meigs,

or the politicians in the least.

As members gathered for the opening of the

first session of the 34th Congress on December 3,

1855, they were greeted by the sight of the Capitol

without its old wooden dome or its new iron dome.

About 60 percent of the members of the House of

Representatives had served in the previous Congress, and a great many expected to see the new

dome finished as promised. Not only was the new

dome not finished, it had not been begun. Yet they

were soon greeted by Meigs’ request for another

$100,000 to continue work. There would be plenty

of questions to answer before any more money

was granted.
234 History of the United States Capitol

When Congress turned its attention to funding

the dome, inquiries were made that should have

come long before the original appropriation

passed. These practical questions were about the

feasibility of re-doming the Capitol, the strength of

the foundations, and the probable cost of the project. Members could see that the dome was not finished, and they were not ready to believe any more

View of the

Capitol, Looking

Southeast

1856

View of the

Capitol After

Removal of the

Old Dome

January 1856

Soon after the dome

was removed, Walter had

one of the new iron

columns (marked “A”)

hoisted in the air to

judge the sculptural

effect of the Corinthian

capital as seen against

the sky. Nearby was the

rooftop shack housing

the steam engine that

powered the hoisting

apparatus.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 235

promises without substantial backup. On March 6,

1856, the chairman of the House Ways and Means

Committee, Lewis D. Campbell of Ohio, wrote Jefferson Davis asking if an examination of the

rotunda walls had been made to determine if they

were strong enough to bear the weight of the proposed dome. He also wanted to know what the

dome would weigh. Davis forwarded the letter to

Meigs, who confessed that he could not estimate

the weight of the dome because he did not know

the weight of each casting needed to build it. He

would not risk making a mistake on such an important question. Walter, on the other hand, was willing to make an educated guess. He assumed the

ironwork would average six inches in thickness

and estimated the dome would weigh fifteen million pounds. Meigs used the figure to estimate that

the new dome would load ten thousand pounds

per square foot on the old walls.

When the dome was completed nine years

later, it was found that 8,909,200 pounds of iron

had been used in its construction. An additional

5,214,000 pounds of brickwork had been used to

knit the new iron to the old masonry. As it was dismantled, Bulfinch’s outer dome and inner dome

were found to weigh 11,853,584 pounds.53 Remarkably, the great iron dome was only 20 percent heavier than its significantly smaller predecessor.

On April 10, 1856, the House of Representatives took up an appropriation to continue work on

the Washington Aqueduct. Russell Sage, a member

from New York, expressed doubts about the funds

Meigs requested because he did not trust the engineer’s forthrightness in working up cost estimates.

He noted that the dome would cost more than

$100,000 and said that two-thirds of those who

voted for it thought only one appropriation would

A Dome Report

1855

One of Meigs’ assistant engineers, Ottmar Sonnemann, calculated the probable

effects of wind on the new dome and reported his findings in the letter shown here.

Like other such studies, this one came after the dome was authorized and funded.

Sonnemann came to the Capitol after an earlier career as a railroad engineer.

While employed by the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, he worked under the company’s

chief engineer, Benjamin Henry Latrobe, Jr.

Model of the Capitol with the New Dome 

ca. 1855

Meigs had this model made to give an idea of the

finished appearance of the Capitol with the extension

and new dome. An engraving of this photograph gave

many Americans their first glimpse at the design of the

new iron dome.
236 History of the United States Capitol

be needed to build it. Sage implied that Meigs purposely misled Congress with his estimates.

Meigs wrote congressmen and senators with

his version of the case. To Senator Albert G. Brown

of Mississippi, for instance, he declared:

The fact is, that though repeatedly asked by

members who saw the drawing to say about

what it would cost, I always declined expressing

any opinion, saying the mere elevation was not

enough to make an estimate upon, and that I

had too much regard for my own reputation to

venture a guess upon so important a matter.54

Meigs also wrote a member of the Ways and

Means Committee stating that he was not responsible for the estimates for the dome. “No man could

have been more careful to avoid giving an estimate

on insufficient data,” he declared.55 His denials,

however, were not altogether justified. Perhaps he

hoped members had forgotten the $200,000 figure

pulled out of thin air and bantered about just

before the dome was authorized.

The first cost estimate came from the architect. By taking into account the price of iron

already bought for the Capitol extension and the

approximate amount that would be needed to build

the dome, Walter predicted that the cost would be

around $945,000. The accuracy of the estimate

would depend entirely upon the future price of

iron. Nobody could have known in the spring of

1856 that the dome would ultimately cost

$1,047,271, about 10 percent more than the architect’s estimate. Because Walter had vastly overestimated the weight of the iron, however, it was

more luck than skill that brought his estimate so

close to the final figure.

While Walter and Meigs reassured skeptics in

Congress, the first shipments of ironwork were

being delivered to Capitol Hill from the Baltimore

foundry of Poole & Hunt. It supplied seventy-two

brackets weighing 6,116 pounds apiece and measuring more than seven feet high and fifteen feet

long. Used in pairs to cantilever the columns of

the peristyle beyond the old walls of the rotunda,

the brackets were tied together by a riveted ring

of plate iron one and three-quarters inches thick.

More than five million pounds of brickwork was

laid around, through, and over the brackets, binding them to their foundation. This masonry work

was an immense undertaking. A circular wall 300

feet in circumference, twenty-six and a half feet

high, in widths varying from about three to six

feet, was built, reinforced with iron hoops, and

knitted to a structure built thirty years earlier. The

success of everything to follow would depend on

the integrity and strength of that base. The work

was finished just before the winter of 1857 set in.

To cover the brickwork on the interior, Walter

designed seventy-two cast-iron panels enriched

with ornamental moldings, which were attached to

the masonry and surrounded by painted plaster.

The panels were made by Poole & Hunt for four

cents a pound. Above this band, two cornices outlined a frieze about eight feet high. Originally the

frieze was intended to be filled with sculpture in

alto-relievo depicting the history of America, but

this plan was thwarted by the death of the sculptor Thomas Crawford. Instead, Meigs’ favorite

fresco artist, Constantino Brumidi, would imitate

the effect of sculpture using a painting technique

called grisaille. This less expensive decoration

was not begun until the 1870s, well after the dome

was completed. Indeed, it was not finished until

the 1950s.

After the brackets were installed and the

brickwork was laid and allowed to dry, the dome

was ready for the thirty-six columns that would

Center Building 

ca. 1857

The paired brackets

that would hold the

dome’s columns may 

be seen in this construction photograph. Also

shown are three workmen standing on the

Bulfinch terrace amid

marble debris.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 237

comprise one of its most conspicuous architectural features. Meigs asked ironworkers in New

York, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia,

and the District of Columbia to submit bids for the

columns. By offering to cast the columns for three

and two fifths cents per pound, the firm of Poole &

Hunt received the contract. The columns were

cast in sections: the capital and base would slip

over the ends of the shaft, which was cast as a single piece. Foliage for the capitals was cast separately and attached to the bells by screws and

rivets. Twenty-seven feet high, each column

weighed approximately 10,000 pounds and cost

$399 delivered to Washington. To save weight and

money the shafts were cast hollow. This feature

also increased their utility: some were used as

down spouts to conduct water off the dome and

others were connected to chimneys under the peristyle, the smoke from which would have no other

means of escape. The last shipment of columns

arrived from Baltimore in November 1856.

THE GREAT

ORCHESTRATION

Meigs’ talent for administration was

complemented by amazing

energy and stamina. His attention to detail brought him into the most minute

aspects of the extension, its decoration, construction, and management. He arrived at his office

between nine o’clock and ten in the morning,

greeted by mounds of paperwork and visitors anxious for his attention. After noon he went to

observe Congress, when it was in session, to see if

anything was being said about his projects. The

rest of the afternoon was spent going over the

works from top to bottom to see if everything was

being done correctly. “Sometimes I correct an

error,” he wrote, “but generally I find nothing to

alter, for the workmen and the overseers are pretty

well used to my methods, and I find all going

right.” 56 Although he relied on a staff of assistant

engineers, foremen, craftsmen, artists, and clerks

as well as various contractors, Meigs was responsible for everything concerning the project and

defended his name and reputation against any hint

of impropriety. As Walter learned, and as Latrobe

had realized long before, there was never a shortage of critics whose slanders were motivated by

jealousy, lost contracts, malice, and a simple love

of the sport. Through the strength of his convictions and personality, however, Meigs was well

equipped to defend himself, and as long as Davis

was secretary of war he enjoyed the unswerving

support of the administration.

Keeping control on the cost of the Capitol

extension was a matter of considerable importance. Meigs was spending a great deal of money

for such things as marble sculpture and English

floor tiles that were never thought of when the

project began in 1851, and only the strictest economy would help to pay for these luxuries. The most

expensive aspect of the project was the marble

Delivery of Iron Column Shaft

1856

Shipped by train from Baltimore, the iron columns

for the dome were then hauled from the station to the

Capitol on horse-drawn carriages.
238 History of the United States Capitol

work. He spent hours studying its details in order

to determine the proper value of cutting, carving,

and setting tasks. Some cutting and carving jobs

were not spelled out in the contract with Provost

& Winter and obliged Meigs to fix a fair value for

specific work on a case-by-case basis. Peering

through a spy glass or climbing on a ladder, Meigs

studied the way George Blagden had pieced

together the cornice of the old Capitol in the 1790s,

comparing it to the way Provost & Winter proposed to accomplish the same task for the extension. The contractor wanted to use four courses of

stone to make the cornice, one more than used in

the old building. But Meigs wanted to use three

courses to reduce cost. Since the appearance

would be the same, his decision combined the

advantages of economy without sacrificing stability or beauty:

I find by rough calculation, which I will make

more carefully, that in the saving of material

and work though I have made a much more

durable and strong cornice than the 4-course

one proposed in the contract, I have saved about

$22 per foot; and as there are 1,800 feet of this

cornice, this is in the whole a saving of $39,600.57

Meigs also established the price paid to

Provost & Winter for carving the capitals for the

columns ($930) and pilasters ($537) destined for

the vestibules leading from the east porticoes to

the House and Senate chambers. Following the

tradition established by Latrobe forty years earlier,

Walter Americanized these capitals, mingling

tobacco, corn, and magnolia plants among the

acanthus leaves and volutes that are trademarks of

the Corinthian order. The design was put into the

hands of Francis Vincenti, an Italian modeler and

sculptor who prepared a plaster model for the

carvers to follow. Meigs traveled by horseback to a

farm in Maryland to gather tobacco leaves to

ensure a faithful representation.

Two monumental staircases were provided in

each wing for visitors going to the galleries overlooking the chambers. Ever since the floor plans

were revised in 1853, these staircases had been

envisioned as principal ornaments of the extension—majestically scaled, generously proportioned, and richly finished. They were intended to

be as grand and good as those in European palaces.

Sometimes described as “imperial,” they consisted

of a broad flight of steps rising to a landing where

the steps split into two flights. A mixture of Italian

white and Lee clouded marble was used for the

steps of three of these staircases, the same three

employing a deep reddish brown marble from east

Tennessee for handrails, balusters, wainscoting,

and supporting columns. The column shafts were

topped with metal capitals cast in Philadelphia by

Cornelius & Baker, a firm more usually associated

with chandeliers and other lighting fixtures. The

model for the capitals was made under Meigs’

Detail of Exterior Marble Work 

Principal Entrance, South Wing

Installed in 1855, this frontispiece illustrates the

high-quality craftsmanship of Provost & Winter’s

carvers as well as the engaging detail of Walter’s design.

Similar in spirit to the iron consoles in the Library of

Congress, the brackets were rich essays in the rococo

revival taste in decorative arts. Corn, maple leaves, and

grape clusters were incorporated into the imaginative

composition. Above, the cornice was carved with a row

of Grecian honeysuckle ornaments called “anthemion.” 

(1965 photograph.)
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 239

watchful eye by sculptors working from the architect’s drawing. After the first capital was received

from the foundry in September 1855, Meigs

thought the workmanship good but noted that

there was room for improvement. He was particularly concerned that the acanthus leaves around

the bell were too thick, which the engineer thought

was a common fault in metal foliage. The defect

was not fatal, but Meigs encouraged the foundry

to make better castings if they could.

Walter was happy that metal capitals were

used with the beautiful Tennessee marble, which

Western Stairway, South Wing

by Thomas U. Walter, 1858

Four monumental marble stairways were among the

great interior features of the Capitol extension. Large

history paintings were intended to hang in the upper 

landings, which were lighted from above.

East Monumental Stairway,

Senate Wing

Rich brown Tennessee marble with

metal capitals support a marble and iron 

ceiling over the stairs. (1995 photograph.)
240 History of the United States Capitol

he claimed had no equal for interior stonework.

Pure white Italian marble was used in the fourth

staircase, which was located in the western part of

the Senate wing. The exquisite capitals were

carved with a delicate skill unequaled anywhere in

the building. Meigs originally wanted to use a green

marble from Vermont (commonly called “verd

antique”) for this stair but was not able to find

enough of suitable quality. When asked why Meigs

wanted to make one stair from a different marble,

Walter replied that the engineer acted on the principle that “variety is the spice of life.” 58

A long row of marble columns with corresponding antae was one of the remarkable features

planned for the ground floor corridor in the south

wing. Walter produced an Americanized version of

the Corinthian order for these columns by designing a range of tobacco leaves above the obligatory

acanthus leaves. Between the tobacco leaves, he

introduced the thistle plant as an elegant embellishment that fit well. When the corridor was first

designed, it was thought that the ceiling would be

marble, but it was later changed to iron. The

change was probably made because marble was in

such demand for other purposes and was more

expensive than iron. Five foundries were asked to

bid on the ceiling, and the job was awarded to Hayward & Bartlett of Baltimore on March 6, 1855.

Section Thro’

CORRIDOR, 

South Wing

by Thomas U. Walter

1855

The principal 

feature of the south

wing’s first floor was 

an impressive corridor 

lined with twenty-eight

Corinthian columns.

Hall of Columns Corinthian Order

by Thomas U. Walter

Walter blended the tobacco plant and thistle into a Corinthian capital in his first

American order. It followed the tradition begun by Latrobe in 1809, when he introduced the corn order. Instead of pilasters, Walter used antae along the walls to correspond with the columns. No tobacco or thistle was incorporated into these capitals,

which displayed more conventional classical carvings instead. (1960 photographs.)
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 241

They offered to make the patterns, cast the iron,

and deliver the ceiling for three and a half cents

per pound. By comparison, the high bid came from

Thurston Gardner of Providence, Rhode Island,

who proposed six cents a pound. Installing the

ceiling would be a task of some delicacy, and at

one point Walter thought that Meigs would never

allow the ironworkers to do it:

We shall have a range of elegantly wrought

marble columns of a new order of my own

design, with delicately sculpted tobacco leaves,

thistle, cotton &c. costing a mint of money,

besides corresponding pilasters around all the

walls, and I am sure he will never consent for

any contractor to hammer and hoist and work

in such a forest of fragile beauty.59

But, contrary to the architect’s expectation, Meigs

accepted Hayward & Bartlett’s offer to install the

iron ceiling for one and a quarter cents per pound,

with the scaffold and hoisting apparatus supplied

by the government.

Like all corridors in the Capitol extension, the

so-called “hall of columns” was originally intended

to be paved with thick slabs of marble. Brilliantly

polished marble would be a startling contrast to

the dull sandstone used in the passages of the old

building. But again, marble was greatly wanted for

other purposes and Meigs began seeking alternative flooring materials. In The Engineer’s Journal

he saw advertisements for encaustic tiles manufactured by the Minton Tile Company of StokeUpon-Trent, England, and he made a mental note

to look into substituting tile for marble floors. The

main advantage offered by Minton tile was its durability. Unlike glazed tiles in which the color and

pattern are laid on top of the surface, an encaustic

tile consists of patterns made of colored clays

inlaid into the tile. As the tile wears down, the

color and pattern are unaffected. For plain tiles,

the whole thickness is made from colored clay.

At the time he was ready to inquire about the

tiles in September 1854 Meigs grew concerned to

see that the company had stopped advertising and

wrote to ask if tile production had been abandoned. He was particularly interested in Minton’s

tiles because they promised to be as beautiful as

durable. In fact, considering the style of decoration he planned for the interiors, Meigs hoped the

company could make more elaborate and elegant

floors than he had yet encountered in America.

“The examples of your tiles which I have seen in

this country,” he explained,

are confined to the smaller size & plainer figures. Our building is a Roman Corinthian edifice

of white marble—above 750 feet by 270 & contains many fine public rooms & Halls & corridors and I am desirous of obtaining the best

floors that can be made.60

In a few weeks, he received samples of Minton

tile from one of the company’s American agents,

Miller & Coates of New York City. He thanked the

agents and advised them that work had not progressed to the point where finished floors would

be laid any time soon. He also needed time to

study the designs and determine their appropriateness for the Capitol.61 With his letters to England and New York, Meigs initiated a long-term

and mutually satisfying association with the tile

makers and importers.

Convinced that Minton tile was the best flooring available, Meigs ordered it in vast quantities.

Wooden casks packed with tile began arriving in

New York from Liverpool in the fall of 1855.

Through letters to the secretary of the treasury

Meigs made sure they arrived duty free. The casks

were forwarded to Washington by rail accompanied by Miller & Coates’ workmen, who laid the

tile over a five-year period at an average cost of

about $1.75 a square foot. Elaborate designs could

cost as much as $2.03 per foot. The designs for

specific rooms and corridors were made by Miller

& Coates, who sent detailed sketches for Meigs’

approval. Undoubtedly, the opinions of Walter and

others were sought, but the final selection of pattern and color rested with the engineer. More

important rooms were treated with elaborate centerpieces surrounded by fields of color and multiple geometric or architectural borders. The effect

was similar to the composition of large, intricately

woven carpets, but the colors were bolder and the

reflection of light off polished tile was more dazzling. During the winter months, floors in most

offices and committee rooms were covered wall to

wall with carpets held in place by lead weights

sewn into the bindings. In other rooms Pringle

Slight’s men laid strips of walnut or cherry to which

the carpets would be tacked. During the summer

months the carpets were taken up and the cool

tile left exposed. Less important spaces were

treated with simpler and cheaper designs, but even
242 History of the United States Capitol

some of the dimly lit rooms in the cellars were

paved with cheerfully colored tiles.

While acres of tile paved the corridors of the

Capitol extension, the muddy streets and footpaths of Washington ensured that frequent cleaning would be necessary to keep the floors shining.

Meigs anticipated the heroic scope of the task and

thoughtfully provided low, shallow closets throughout the corridors where cleaning personnel could

readily draw pails of water to mop the floors.

Drains at the bottom carried off dirty water. These

handy closets were barely thirty inches tall, with

arched doors made of cast iron.

Plumbing for water and gas was installed by J.

W. Thompson & Brothers of Washington under a

contract awarded on June 15, 1855. A four-inch

cast-iron water main was laid under corridor floors

to supply water for wash basins and drinking fountains in the offices, committee rooms, and cloakrooms. The marble-topped wash basins were made

in the carpenter’s shop from walnut, a wood that

Pringle Slight described as “very serviceable” for

the purpose.62 Air ducts built into the walls for

ventilation and heating purposes were also used to

run pipes vertically. Water closets were fitted with

the “most approved apparatus” and were connected to iron waste pipes leading to the main

sewer under the cellar floors. A three-inch gas

main was laid under the floors except in the upper

story, where four-inch mains were used. Principal

spaces such as committee rooms, offices, and public corridors were fitted with elegant chandeliers

hung in the center of the vaulted ceilings. Sconces

were affixed to the hollow iron window trim,

through which the gas pipes were conveniently

run. By using flexible tubes made of gutta-percha

(a material similar to rubber), portable desk lamps

were fed gas from sconces or chandeliers. Out-ofthe-way storage rooms and cellar passages were

illuminated by simple pendant lights. With few

exceptions the gas lighting fixtures were made by

Cornelius & Baker, a firm that specialized in elaborate castings combining naturalistic foliage with

human and animal figures. For evening sessions of

Congress, Meigs wanted to cast enough artificial

light into the House and Senate chambers through

the skylights to turn night into day, hoping the

effect would be wondrous. Just above the glass

ceiling, hundreds of gas burners were installed so

close together that only one ignition source was

needed to light the whole apparatus.

During the second week of January 1856,

Meigs announced that the first rooms in the north

wing were finished. Six chambers on the west side

of the first floor were ready to receive the U. S.

Court of Claims, which senators allowed to be temporarily accommodated in rooms ultimately destined for their committees. The first key Meigs

handed over was to the northwest corner room

(modern day S–126) where the court was scheduled to meet on Monday, January 14, 1856.

Although the heating apparatus was not yet operational, the rooms made a fine suite, which Meigs

described just before the court moved in:

These rooms have encaustic tile floors, marble

skirting [baseboards], cast iron door and window casing, and are as permanent and indestructible as it is possible to make rooms. The

door and the window shutters and sashes are

all wood, for the sake of swiftness and ease with

which they are maneuvered. Six of these rooms

are nearly ready for use, and the court will have

the use of the whole of them. Furnaces have

been put up in the cellar and have been kept

going for some weeks to try to warm them.63

The mass-produced door and window frames

were another prominent use of cast iron. (It was

not, however, a novel idea. In the early 1830s, Walter had used iron for that purpose in his first large

commission, the Moyamensing Prison in Philadelphia.64) Meigs installed iron frames on the first

floor as a trial to determine whether to continue

with them throughout the extension or to adopt

another material. After looking at the iron frames

in the Court of Claims rooms Meigs decided to

continue their use: “Those in the basement look so

well and substantial,” he wrote, “that I think nothing else will do, unless we build them of marble,

and that takes too long.” 65

Forty-eight carpenters working for Pringle

Slight made all the doors, windows, and interior

shutters that constituted the greater part of the

Capitol’s limited woodwork. (Meigs originally

wanted to use iron shutters “for the safety of valuable papers” but later abandoned the idea.66) Before

the finish work was begun, these men were mainly

engaged in building the centers on which the brick

arches and vaults were constructed. At the beginning of 1855 Slight wanted to start making doors.

After the doors were put together and wedged, he
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 243

recommended storing them for six months in a dry

place. He assured Meigs that he knew the door business, saying he personally had made all the doors

leading to the Senate vestibule thirty-five years earlier and that they were still as good as new.67

Slight’s pride in his handcrafted doors notwithstanding, the building arts were making increasing

use of mechanical power and machinery, which

Meigs celebrated as a blessing. He admired what

machinery could do, the burdens it lifted, and the

time it saved. Efficiency was important, and he

made comparative analyses to show what labor and

money his machines were saving the United States

Treasury. For instance, one of his foremen compared three different modes of carrying brick to

the top of the walls and the cost of each. He found

that a good hod carrier could raise 1,000 bricks a

day in cool weather at a cost of $1.25. Then he

found that six laborers making $1.05 a day using

hand-powered machinery could raise 9,500 bricks

at a cost of sixty-six cents per thousand. Finally,

with a small steam engine, 24,000 bricks could be

hoisted to the same level at a cost of twenty-three

cents per thousand. The advantage of using the

power of steam to ease that expensive, backbreaking work was obvious. Meigs also noted that

the work could thereby be carried on during the

summer months, when it was too hot for ordinary

Details of Doors, Basement

by Thomas U. Walter, 1855

Meigs used iron for door and window casings

because marble was too expensive and took too long 

to install. Iron frames were mass produced in various

foundries, an example of the increasing industrialization

of the building arts during the mid-nineteenth century.

Details of Windows, Attic Story

by Thomas U. Walter, 1856

Unlike the double-hung sash used in the old Capitol, Walter designed casements

for the third-floor windows in the extension. When fully opened, these casements

allowed air to flow through the entire window area.
244 History of the United States Capitol

mortals to endure.68 Such comparisons justified

the government’s investment in expensive

machinery and showcased Meigs’ attention to

economy and efficiency.

Logan, Vail & Company of New York was one

of several firms that sold Meigs portable steam

engines for various tasks, such as raising brick or

mixing cement. His favorite supplier of pulleys,

drills, lathes, planners, vices, hammers, and saws

was the firm of Gage, Warner & Whitney of Nashua,

New Hampshire. Power drills were bought from

Shriver & Brothers of Cumberland, Maryland. Wire

rope was purchased from John A. Roebling of Trenton, New Jersey, who later became famous for

designing the Brooklyn Bridge. Hydraulic lifts were

bought filled with whiskey to keep them operational year-round (Whiskey, unlike water, would

not freeze in winter.) With these lifts, a man of

ordinary strength could raise a load weighing seven

tons.69 An extensive shop for cutting marble and

turning column shafts was linked to a central steam

engine that also powered a wood shop, machine

shop, and finishing shop. The saw in the stone mill

did the work of forty men at one fifth the cost.

Hand-powered tools could drill fifty holes a day in

the roof rafters and purlins; sixty holes an hour

could be drilled with the power of steam. Each day

this large steam engine consumed a ton of coal,

but the time and money it saved repaid the government handsomely.70

Building materials were purchased from suppliers around the country and abroad. For the

roofs Meigs bought copper weighing thirty ounces

a square foot from Crocker, Brothers & Company

in Massachusetts and sent it to New York to be

corrugated; he was thus able to cover the roofs

with a material that was lighter than and just as

strong as his first choice—cast-iron tiles.71 Plate

glass from France was obtained through DeCourcy

& Noell of New York (at $10.50 per pane), while

Capitol Workshops

ca. 1857

Looking northwest, this photograph was taken from the roof of the new Senate

wing and shows Meigs’ workshops in the foreground. Iron columns intended for the

dome were stored nearby.

Details of Senate Chamber

by Thomas U. Walter, 1855

Mythological figures were drawn in the 

niches that would later be occupied by busts of early

vice presidents.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 245

English glass for the dome was ordered from

Theodore Roosevelt Sr.’s plate glass warehouse,

also located in New York. With so much plate glass

wanted at the Capitol—a market worth at least

$150,000—Meigs hoped to encourage American

manufacturers to begin casting glass.72 Although

for the time being he was forced to buy foreign

plate glass, he could obtain high-quality domestic

glass for skylights from William B. Walter of

Philadelphia. Ornamental stained glass was

obtained from J. & J. H. Gibson, a firm also located

in Philadelphia.

The heating and ventilation system, one of the

more daring and controversial aspects of the Capitol extension, was developed by Nason & Dodge, a

large and experienced New York firm hired in 1855.

They offered a 20 percent discount on all pipes

and fittings from their warehouse, a deal Meigs

found irresistible. But he was equally impressed

with the firm’s scientific and mechanical skill, an

uncommon and most welcome combination. All

drafting was done by the contractor under the

supervision of Robert Briggs, the firm’s civil and

mechanical engineer, who was later hired by Meigs.

After extensive consultations with the captain of

engineers, Nason & Dodge developed a method of

warming the extension that was an early version

of a forced hot air system. Steam-powered fans of

various sizes blew air over massive coils of pipe

filled with hot water. For the House chamber, a fan

sixteen feet in diameter turned by a thirty-horsepower steam engine delivered 1,250 cubic feet of

air with each revolution. At eighty revolutions per

minute, the fan could replenish the air in the chamber every five minutes.73 Meigs calculated that the

quantity of pipe needed to warm the House chamber alone was 50,000 linear feet, the equivalent of

16,000 square feet of heating surface.74 The warm

air was distributed throughout the two wings by

ducts built into the thick brick walls. In the chambers, air could come through registers in the floor

or, if the fans were reversed through apertures in

the ceilings. For each wing two fans were provided—one for the legislative chamber and one for

the remaining rooms and passages. Air was

exhausted through grilles in the iron ceilings over

the four grand staircases or over the chambers.

Eight boilers of the “modified locomotive form”

were supplied by Murray & Hazlehurst of Baltimore.75 Weighing about 18,000 pounds apiece, they

measured sixteen feet long by six feet wide, were

made of double-riveted Baltimore charcoal plates,

and cost fourteen and a half cents per pound.

Spaces under the terrace were converted into

boiler rooms, thus distancing the effects of an

explosion while keeping them convenient to

nearby fuel storage areas.

DECORATIONS

I n July 1853, soon after President

Pierce accepted the revised design of

the extension, Meigs wrote Massachusetts Senator Edward Everett asking him to recommend artists to fill the east pediments with

sculpture. A former congressman, governor of Massachusetts, president of Harvard, and secretary of

state, Everett had played a leading role in the Capitol’s development during the Bulfinch period and

was now asked to contribute his urbane and refined

taste to Meigs’ search for sculptors. The pediments

were the engineer’s special contribution to the exterior appearance of the wings, and he wanted to

commission monumental sculptural groups that

would do credit to the age. He also wished to top

the principal doorways with marble statuary to

complement the bronze doors that he intended to

install in those openings. Everett recommended

Hiram Powers and Thomas Crawford as artists

whose statuary would honor both the Capitol and

the country.

After receiving Everett’s recommendation,

Meigs spoke to the secretary of war and was

directed to offer the artists work. Like Latrobe and

Jefferson a half-century before, Meigs and Davis

considered sculptural enrichment a permanent

part of the building’s fabric and, therefore, payable

from funds appropriated for construction. In this

regard architectural statuary for the outside pediments was different from statues that might be

commissioned to fill the niches found inside. Meigs

had no authority to commission works for these

interior spaces but hoped they would not stand

empty for long: the vacant niches would appear

like open mouths needing to be fed statuary. Similarly, large stretches of empty wall space would

cry out for great history paintings.
246 History of the United States Capitol

In August 1853 the commissioner of public

buildings began installing a group of statues commissioned by Congress in 1837 for the north cheek

block of the center steps. Commissioner French

hired Washington sculptor Clark Mills to oversee

moving the statuary from the Navy Yard to the

Capitol.76 Consisting of three main figures, Rescue

by Horatio Greenough was a companion piece to

another group entitled Discovery of America by

Luigi Persico, which had been installed nine years

earlier on the opposite cheek block. Both sculptures were far from satisfactory works of art.

Although created by talented artists, they were

embarrassingly clumsy displays of stiff gestures

with little expression and awkward interactions

among the figures. The sight of Greenough’s Rescue being unpacked prompted Meigs to take up

his pen and write the sculptors recommended by

Senator Everett. His letters admirably conveyed

his high hopes for the Capitol’s artwork and contained the usual warnings about incomprehensible

allegory and offensive nudity:

The pediments and doorways should be a part

of the original construction of the buildings,

and I do not see why a republic so much richer

than the Athenian should not rival the

Parthenon in the front of its first public edifice.

Permit me to say that the sculpture sent here

by our artists is not altogether adapted to the

taste of our people. We are not able to appreciate too refined and intricate allegorical representations, and while the naked Washington of

Greenough is the theme of admiration to the

few scholars, it is unsparingly denounced by

the less refined multitude.77

Powers replied from Florence in a terse letter

saying that he had neither the time nor the desire

to propose sculpture. Crawford, on the other hand,

was delighted with the offer. He wrote from Rome

with an acceptance of Meigs’ proposal, agreeing to

produce a “work intelligible to our entire population.” He also thought that esoteric symbolism had

no place in America, saying, “The darkness of allegory must give place to common sense.” 78 With

amazing speed, Crawford designed a group of fourteen figures, had the models photographed in

Rome, and mailed the photographs to Meigs by the

end of October. Along with the photograph came

Crawford’s bill for full-scale models: $20,000. With

the approval of both the president and the secretary of war, Meigs accepted the artist’s terms a

month later. The approval began a patronage that,

while not particularly long lasting, was mutually

agreeable and wonderfully productive.

In the spring of 1854, Crawford finished the

first full-size models of his pediment group entitled Progress of Civilization. A figure representing America stood at the center, flanked by groups

of European pioneers and vanquished American

Indians illustrating the establishment of European

culture on the North American continent. The figures assumed an agreeable variety of expression,

attitude, and costume that pleased Meigs considerably. He took the photographs to the secretary

of war and was quickly instructed to tell the artist

to change the head gear worn by the central figure. Crawford had the figure of America wearing a

liberty cap, a device worn in ancient Rome by freed

slaves. The cap had been revived in the iconography of the American Revolution as a popular symbol of freedom from English tyranny and was also

part of the revolutionary iconography of France in

the 1790s. Although the floppy cloth cap had been

part of the American image for many years, Davis

objected to it because, he reasoned, Americans

had never been enslaved and, therefore, could not

wear the badge of a freedman.79 (For unexplained

reasons, the cap was retained despite Davis’ objections.) Later Davis criticized the design of the

young Indian boy because it did not have the face

or hair of an Indian.80 The Woodsman did not please

Davis either: he thought that the figure’s attitude

Eastern Elevation

of North Wing,

Capitol Extension 

by Thomas U. Walter

ca.1855

Pediments were added

to the eastern porticos to

accommodate sculptural

decorations.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 247

was not that of a “wood-cutter chopping.” Meigs

agreed, thinking Crawford must not have had many

occasions to observe wood being chopped because

he was born and raised in New York City.81 The

artist took these objections in stride, preferring to

make changes rather than fight battles that he

would surely lose.

Sculpture was the first form of decoration that

Meigs undertook, but its use was not as extensive

or as controversial as the frescoes and other painting that he commissioned later. While in New York

scouting the city for brick, or on his way to inspect

the marble quarry in western Massachusetts, Meigs

haunted book stores and libraries looking for material to help him devise painted decorations for the

extension. He regretted that he had not traveled to

Europe, but he hoped that by studying grand European buildings shown in books he might glean ideas

to make the Capitol a building to stand a fair comparison with any of them. In August 1854, he was

in New York’s Astor Library looking at three volumes with colored engravings of Raphael’s works

at the Vatican. Recalling the splendor of the rooms,

Meigs wrote: “They are very beautiful, rich, and

harmonious in color, simple and beautiful in design.

I wish I could see the rooms themselves. This book

will give us ideas in decorating our lobbies.” 82

When they were available for purchase, the

captain acquired illustrated books for his office.

On November 18, 1854, for instance, Meigs

returned to Washington with several books purchased from William Schaus in New York containing illustrations of architectural ornaments. He

took the liberty of buying them because they contained examples of high-style decorations needed

for the walls and ceilings of the extension. While

he did not have the authority to make the purchase, Meigs hoped that Davis would approve,

which was never a problem.83 In another instance,

he was given permission to buy Galleries Historique de Versailles from Eli French’s bookstore

in New York. It was extremely expensive—$510—

but he thought it was worth every penny. It was

beautifully bound, large, and extensive, illustrated

with elaborate engravings of Louis XIV’s palace.

Meigs routinely purchased publications on ventilation, acoustics, fireproofing, ironwork, hydraulics,

and bridge building for the office, but he especially

prized illustrated volumes showing the great buildings of Europe and their interior decorations.

At the beginning of November 1854, Meigs was

again preparing to leave Washington for a trip

north, this time to Boston, where he was going to

inspect a facility that made papier-mâché ornaments. On the way, he took the opportunity to

catch up on the New York art scene and also

stopped by the quarries to urge speedier delivery

of marble. While in New York, Meigs went to see a

painting by Emanuel Leutze showing George Washington rallying retreating troops at the battle of

Monmouth. He thought the artist capable of producing a similar painting for one of the staircase

landings. Meigs next went to a bookstore, where

he ordered some more works showing ornaments

that, although not in the classical style, would give

him useful ideas for decorating a few out-of-theway rooms on the third floor. With these books

and the confidence gained by looking at, studying,

and thinking about art, Meigs hoped to “make out

a system of decoration for the extension without

Mr. Walter’s help.” 84 For Meigs it was increasingly

important to establish his own reputation as a

designer as well as a builder. He envied Walter’s

celebrity and wanted to enhance his own standing

in the world of art. With the resources at his command, Meigs intended to become a modern-day

Medici, fully aware that history remembers great

patrons as well as great artists.

While in New York Meigs stayed, as usual, at

the Brevoort House, a large hotel with 140 rooms.

He liked its varied, high-quality decorations and

learned from the owner that Emerich Carstens

designed every room, no two of which were exactly

alike. After visiting Boston, Meigs returned to New

York and called upon Carstens to ask if he would

help design the decorations for the walls and ceilings of the Capitol extension and supervise the

work when the time was right to start painting.

Carstens readily indicated his willingness to move

to Washington for a salary of $1,200, and he gave

Meigs a sample of his work to show Walter. Meigs

returned to the Capitol and, after consultation

with the architect, wrote Carstens to “come on,”

which he did in 1856.85

The same day he met Carstens in New York,

Meigs stopped by the Academy of Music to see

the building’s decorations. He was struck by the
248 History of the United States Capitol

beautiful plaster work and intricate papier-mâché

that he learned was the work of Ernest Thomas

and his brother Henri, both recent arrivals from

France. Their work was superior to what he had

seen in Boston. Visiting their studio on Wooster

Street, he saw other examples of their skill at

designing and making plaster and papier-mâché

ornaments. Meigs was impressed with the high

relief and crisp detail possible in cast or molded

papier mâché. He also liked the fact that it was

cheap.86 He arranged for specimens of their work to

be sent to Washington and soon ordered all the

papier-mâché ornaments for the ceiling over the

House chamber from the Thomas brothers. Some

ornaments were classical (modillions, dentils, eggs

and darts, etc.) and some were inspired by the

“natural products of the country.” The rosettes in

the House chamber, for instance, were composed

of cotton plants at various stages of growth. Walter

designed these from nature without reference to

published illustrations.87 Meigs assumed that the

Thomas brothers would do the modeling in New

York, with the casting done in Washington to save

the expense of packing and freight. Almost two

years later, after the House ceiling was finished and

the Senate ceiling was under way, Meigs persuaded

Ernest Thomas to take charge of the ornamental

plaster department at the Capitol.88 Thomas’ pay

was set at $7.00 a day, while the four modelers he

supervised earned from $2.50 to $5.00 per day.89

In employing the immigrant Thomas brothers

and in hiring Ernest Thomas as a foreman, Meigs

was guided by his estimation of their abilities rather

than considerations of nationality. He used the

same criterion in selecting artists to enrich the

Capitol—and he had plenty from which to select.

By the mid-1850s his office was besieged with

painters, sculptors, and modelers hungry for work.

Many left disappointed when their skill failed to

impress but there was never a shortage of new

applicants. Meigs’ mailbox overflowed with letters

of inquiry or support, and many artists came to the

office on the arm of a friendly representative or

senator. Critics scolded the engineer for refusing to

commission some of America’s most famous artists

while he routinely gave jobs to the foreign born.

Few asked, for example, if Hiram Powers had been

offered a commission (he had) or if foreign artists

such as Constantino Brumidi worked better 

or cheaper (they did). There was still a general 

Bronze Doors

by Thomas Crawford, 1855–1857

Entering the Capitol extension was intended to be a noble and educational 

experience. In 1855 Meigs commissioned Crawford to make a pair of doors for the 

Senate showing scenes in the life of George Washington and events from the 

Revolutionary War (above). Crawford designed similar doors illustrating episodes in 

American history for the House of Representatives (right). (1988 photographs.)
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 249

feeling among American artists that Meigs favored

foreigners. In late 1854 a Washington newspaper,

the American Organ, accused him of hiring foreign workmen because, it supposed, he could “kick

and damn them with impunity,” while native-born

workers would never stand for such treatment.90

This paper, a mouthpiece of the secretive Know

Nothing party, was but one source of anti-immigrant prejudice that was strongly felt throughout

the country at the time. This prejudice would continue to grow over the next few years and would

prove a significant factor in the engineer’s eventual

removal from the Capitol extension office.

On January 6, 1855, Meigs learned that Crawford had shipped the first five models for the eastern pediment. He was also at work on bronze doors

depicting events of the Revolution. About six

weeks later a young sculptor from Michigan named

Randolph Rogers called on Meigs with photographs

of his work, much of which had been produced in

Italy. In the course of their conversation, the subject of bronze doors came up and Rogers expressed

an interest in making a set. Meigs thought that the

entrances into the chambers might be a suitable

place to hang bronze doors but later determined

that the connecting corridors would be better:

thus, whether entering the wings from the outside

Detail from Senate Doors: Washington

Laying the Capitol’s Cornerstone, 1793
250 History of the United States Capitol

or the inside, the public would be greeted with

glorious gates laden with sculpture. It would be

yet another way to distinguish the artistically decorated extension from the old Capitol.

Rogers was shown the window behind the

Speaker’s rostrum in the hall of the House of Representatives that would become a door once the

connecting corridor was built. This opening had an

arched top that presented another field for sculpture. Meigs promised to send a tracing giving the

exact dimensions of the opening. In the meantime,

Rogers was asked to think of an appropriate story

for the doors to tell.

While Meigs and Rogers discussed sculpture,

they were joined by another sculptor, Alexander

Galt of Virginia, who wanted permission to display

a bust of Thomas Jefferson in the rotunda. (Meigs

referred him to the commissioner of public buildings, who subsequently denied the request.) The

three men went to Francis Vincenti’s studio and

found the resident sculptor modeling a bust of a

Chippewa chief named Beeshekee. Although the

bust was made contrary to the prohibition against

non-architectural statuary, Meigs considered it an

important record to be made for the sake of posterity: it would be interesting “500 years hence.” 91

While in Vincenti’s studio Meigs showed his

guests plaster casts made from nature that were

being stored until needed for decorations. Personally, he was quite taken by a fine cast Vincenti made

of a coiled snake, and he hoped to expand the representations of animals in the collection to include

fish, game, and “beaked fowl.” 92 He had seen a cast

of a plucked chicken in Philadelphia and made a

mental note to have one made for the Capitol. But

for decorative purposes, Meigs was particularly

fond of snakes, bagging them during walks around

the Washington Aqueduct. Returning to the Capitol,

he set them loose in the office, fascinated by the

bedlam that followed. On one occasion, Meigs marveled at a snake that had been injured during its

capture but was still “full of life and of fight.” 93

Understandably, visitors were taken aback at being

greeted by the snakes, but the engineer admired

how the reptiles would eventually come to rest

among the cool marble samples stored on shelves

lining the office walls. On another occasion, he

coiled a snake around a walking stick and lifted it

to the chandelier, where it wrapped itself around

the gas pipe and slithered furiously. Meigs was

fearless himself but warned his employees to be

careful when handling snakes. In the early winter

of 1856, for instance, he found that the cold was

killing all his rattlesnakes. One fine specimen

remained and he wanted a plaster mold made

before it too was “spoiled.” He cautioned Federico

Casali, one of his modelers and bronze casters, to

be careful because a bite would be fatal. Despite

the danger Casali produced wonderful castings,

some of which Meigs thought were more perfectly

detailed than the living creatures. These castings,

or ones similar, were later incorporated into the

bronze pulls decorating the maple doors leading

into the House and Senate chambers.

When Meigs had begun to plan the Capitol decorations, he thought that most Americans who

called themselves artists were not quite up to

European standards of skill, taste, and talent. He

worried that his high hopes for the interior decoration would be disappointed by using the domestic talent available to him.94 By the time the project

was far enough along to begin decoration, however, he may have realized that the revolutionary

turmoil in Europe in the 1840s had flushed out

many artists among the thousands of expatriates

who came to America seeking peace, freedom, and

opportunity. The Capitol extension and the captain of engineers fell heir to many of the best of

them. One of the first to appear, Constantino Brumidi, was a political refugee who had spent time in

jail before being allowed to leave Italy for good. He

was soon joined by other European artists and

craftsmen who would help fulfill Meigs’ grand

plans. Painters from Germany and England, ornamental plasterers and sculptors from France, and

carvers from Italy were drawn to Washington,

where Meigs was overseeing the largest building

project of the era. It was a perfect example of

America benefitting from old-world troubles.

The first mural decoration in the Capitol

extension was undertaken by Brumidi at the end

of January 1855 when he began drawing the cartoons for Calling of Cincinnatus from the Plow.

Meigs allowed the artist to paint a sample of real

fresco in the east lunette of his office, a room later

assigned to the House Committee on Agriculture.

In one of the great unselfish acts of George Washington’s life, he had left his farm to defend his
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 251

House Committee

on Agriculture

Room

In the lunette on the

far wall is Brumidi’s first

Capitol fresco, Calling 

of Cincinnatus from the

Plow. The artist later

painted Calling of Putnam from the Plow to 

the Revolution on the

opposite wall. Other

paintings in the room

include allegorical figures representing the

four seasons, a view of

the McCormick reaper,

and portraits of Washington and Jefferson, two

farmer presidents.

The room is 

currently occupied by 

the House Committee

on Appropriations. 

(1995 photograph.)
252 History of the United States Capitol

country at the outbreak of the Revolution and,

thus, was compared to Cincinnatus, the fifth century B.C. Roman soldier who abandoned his fields

to save Rome. The patriotic lesson was clear, and

Meigs considered Cincinnatus an appropriate subject for the House Committee on Agriculture.

With snakes slithering around and a constant

stream of visitors coming and going, Meigs’ office

was full of unwanted distractions for the artist working on a scaffold at one end of the room. Brumidi

started the fresco on February 14, assisted by A. B.

McFarlan, foreman of the south wing plasterers.

The rough coat of plaster was wet several times a

day for a few days before a small, smooth patch of

lime and sand about a yard square was laid in one

corner. Brumidi roughened the surface with a

broom, sprinkled it with water, and proceeded to

lay on colors that were formed with lime into a

paste. At first the colors were brilliant, too brilliant

in Meigs’ view, but the artist assured him they would

become less intense as the plaster dried.

Over the next month, sightseers came to

Meigs’ office to witness the making of a work of art

unlike anything else in America. Among those who

came was Senator Stephen Douglas, “The Little

Giant” from Illinois. After inspecting the painting’s

progress Douglas congratulated Meigs and told

him how pleased he was at the prospect of frescoed walls. When Richard Stanton appeared at the

door in the company of Thomas Walter on March

7, 1855, Meigs was a bit startled but greeted his

guest cordially. The recently retired congressman,

whom Meigs knew was no friend of military men,

seemed uncomfortable at first but became relaxed

and even animated once he saw Brumidi’s nearly

complete painting. He climbed on the scaffold to

have a closer look and soon declared his complete

approval of it. Walter later told Meigs that the

painting had won Stanton over and he would be a

friend henceforth. Such praise from the likes of

Stanton and Douglas encouraged Meigs to proceed

with his decorating plans.

Brumidi finished his painting in mid-March.

The last element that he completed was the face

of a corner figure of a child gazing up at Cincinnatus. Meigs’ wife, Louisa, asked the artist to use

their son Monty as a model, a request he was happy

to oblige. Rather than creating a portrait, however,

Brumidi studied the boy’s character, which he then

sketched into the child’s face.95 Completed in four

weeks, Calling of Cincinnatus from the Plow

earned Brumidi a place on Meigs’ payroll. On

March 20, 1855, he entered government service

commanding the highest wage allowed by the

supervising engineer—eight dollars a day. While

he would eventually also design furniture and

architectural elements, such as mantels and stair

railings, Brumidi’s name soon became synonymous

with fresco decorations in the Capitol.

Just before Christmas of 1855, sculptor Henry

Kirke Brown showed Meigs photographs of an

unsolicited design he created for the second pediment, featuring a central figure of America with

outstretched arms welcoming and protecting all

who come to these shores. A distressed foreigner

crouched at the feet of the central figure while

other figures in contemporary dress engaged in

various occupational activities. The figure of a slave

contemplating his fate, however, was a bothersome

element that doomed the composition. While

admittedly “truthful,” it was too controversial to

immortalize in marble. Meigs told the artist that it

“must absolutely go out.” 96 Brown thought the slave

might “awaken a national feeling in regard to its

importance,” yet Meigs understood that awakenings were not what Congress expected in the 

Capitol’s artwork.97

In a few weeks Brown was back with a second

design. Again he placed an allegorical figure of

America in the central position alongside a distressed foreigner. New figures included a citizen

voting at the ballot box, a farmer, a fisherman, a

hunter, an Indian with the spoils of the hunt, a

California ‘49er with a pick ax and pan, a little boy

playing with a toy boat, and a weather-beaten navigator. With only one allegorical figure to ponder,

there was little in the composition to confuse the

average viewer. Despite the improvement, however, Brown’s second design was also rejected.

Failure to land a lucrative contract prompted the

disappointed sculptor to explore ways to remove

the art program from Meigs’ control.

Erastus Dow Palmer of New York was the next

artist to offer designs for the second pediment. In

1856, he made a group of statues depicting the

landing of the pilgrims, which was highly praised

in his local newspaper, the Albany Journal. The

central figure, Elder Brewster, was depicted with
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 253

outstretched arms giving thanks for safe passage.

A kneeling figure of Rose Standish and a standing

figure of Miles Standish were positioned to one

side of Brewster, accompanied by a young soldier

and a mother and child. On the opposite side were

“sturdy” yet nameless puritans of differing ages

attended by such devices as axes, bibles, barrels,

boxes, leafless trees, two wolves, and a crouching

Indian. The Journal wrote that the scene was not

“disfigured by any so-called ‘classical’ adjuncts

often resorted to by modern sculpture.” 98

While Palmer’s pediment design was supported

by many of New York’s most influential politicians,

it was presented during the early days of James

Buchanan’s administration, which did not feel

inclined to support the arts unless it meant political gain. As an administration with strong Southern leanings, it was not keen on Palmer’s New

England subject matter either. A friend of the

sculptor offered a compromise in which he suggested putting Crawford’s Progress of Civilization in the central pediment (at the expense of

Persico’s group) and placing Palmer’s New England scene in the northern pediment. That would

leave the southern pediment available for a depiction of the settlement of Jamestown, Virginia.99

Although the suggestion was ignored, it was

another indication of the role that sectionalism

played in different aspects of American life during

the period. Palmer’s sculptural group was refused

by the cabinet, but he was granted $1,000 for his

troubles.100 The second pediment would stand

empty until 1916.

Thankfully, it was easier to commission a

statue for the top of the new dome. Two months

after Congress authorized the new dome, Meigs

wrote Crawford telling him about the project and

asked him to make a sketch for the statue. Walter’s general design showed a figure on top but

did not dictate the meaning, appearance, or

nature of the statue. Meigs was unsure who or

what the statue should represent. At one time he

suggested a figure of Mercury, but that did not

appeal to Crawford. The engineer could not tolerate another statue of George Washington, nor

would he repeat the allegorical figure of America

already designed for the pediment. A figure of

Liberty was his best idea. He sent the request to

Rome without a copy of the dome’s design or any

other indication that the figure was destined to

stand upon a tholus, or lantern.

With his usual speed, Crawford responded

with a design called Freedom Triumphant in

War and Peace, an allegorical subject perfectly

suited to military taste. Like personifications of

Liberty, Virtue, Charity, or Philosophy, which are

all feminine nouns in romance languages, Freedom

was represented by a female figure. (Had the subject been War or Fire, the male form would have

been called for.) Freedom wore a wreath of wheat

and laurel and held an olive branch, a sword, and

the shield of the United States, making Crawford’s

message clear and simple:

I have endeavored to represent Freedom triumphant—in Peace and War. . . . In her left

hand she holds the olive branch while the right

hand rests on a sword which sustains the Shield

of the United States. These emblems are such

as the mass of our people will easily understand. . . . I have introduced a base surrounded

by wreaths indicative of the rewards Freedom

is ready to bestow upon distinction in the Arts

and Sciences.101

The design was received on July 12, 1855, along

with word of Crawford’s fee: $3,000. While Meigs

admired its grace, he had to send the design back

so that the artist could add a transitional element

between the statue and the tholus. A photograph

of Crawford’s second attempt was received on January 11, 1856. The artist took the opportunity not

only to introduce a transitional pedestal but also to

revise the statue itself. The figure now held a

sheathed sword in her right hand and a laurel

wreath resting on the shield of the United States in

her left. And perhaps forgetting Davis’ earlier objections, Crawford changed her headgear to a liberty

cap. The sculptor’s stay in Rome undoubtedly isolated him from the domestic passions that were

stirred up by the mere mention of slavery, freedmen, or emancipation.

Meigs sent photographs of the two designs to

the secretary of war. In a few days, Davis returned

them with his general approval of the second

design, commenting on its grace and power. But

he still did not like the liberty cap. Opposed to

the idea that American freedom should be portrayed by a freed slave, Davis complained that

the liberty cap’s

history renders it inappropriate to a people

who were born free and would not be enslaved
254 History of the United States Capitol

Crawford’s First Design for Freedom

1855

Library of Congress

The original design for Freedom is shown here in a 

period photograph.

Second Design for Freedom

1855

Library of Congress

Although the general design was approved, Jefferson Davis

insisted that the headdress change from a liberty cap to a helmet.
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 255

. . . its use, as the badge of the freed slave, and

though it should have another emblematic

meaning today, a recurrence to that origin may

give it in the future the same popular acceptation which it had in the past.

Why should not armed Liberty wear a helmet?102

The secretary referred the matter back to the

artist and gave him final say on the issue. This time

Crawford accommodated the wishes of his patrons

and designed a helmet to be worn by the figure of

Freedom. On March 19, 1856, the artist sent a photograph of the revised design with a letter to

explain the new headdress as well as other, more

subtle changes:

I read with much pleasure the letter of the Hon.

Secretary and his remarks have induced me to

dispense with the ‘cap’ and put in its place a

Helmet, the crest [of] which is composed of an

Eagles head and a bold arrangement of feathers suggested by the costume of our Indian

tribes. I have placed upon the head of the

Statue the initials of our country and the drapery is so arranged as to indicate rays of light

proceeding from the letters.

No other explanation is necessary unless it be

to say that I think the present design more

original than the previous ones, and more

american. I hope the Hon. Secretary will look

upon it as a proof of my desire to merit the

continuation of his confidence in my ability.103

In the same letter Crawford mentioned in an

offhanded manner that this statue would be about

two feet taller than his previous designs, standing

eighteen feet, nine inches. (Without realizing it,

the sculptor thereby forced the architect to revise

the upper parts of the dome design to accommodate the larger statue.) He also wrote that the final

three figures for the Senate pediment were ready

to be shipped. In a final bit of news, he told Meigs

that former President Fillmore had dropped by his

studio in Rome and “expressed his unqualified

approval of the Pediment and his pleasure in seeing the encouragement given to the Fine Arts by

the present government.”

Meigs immersed himself in thoughts of art

and was always on the lookout for ways to use

painting and sculpture in the Capitol extension.

He sought to effect the harmonious interplay of

those arts with architecture in the creation of a

unified and artistically whole composition, unlike

anything yet built on this side of the Atlantic.

Plaster Model of Freedom

To satisfy the secretary of war, Crawford replaced the liberty cap with a helmet

composed of an eagle’s head and feathers. The model of the statue is shown here while

it was on display in the old hall of the House after the room was converted into

National Statuary Hall. (ca. 1871 photograph.)
256 History of the United States Capitol

Meigs foreshadowed the time when architects

would routinely command teams of painters and

sculptors laboring on decorations built simultaneously with the architecture. Architects of the late

nineteenth and early twentieth century habitually

employed the services of painters and sculptors,

as well as cabinet makers, upholsterers, and landscapers, but in Meigs’ day such teamwork on such

a scale was far from usual.

BACKLASH

At the opening of the 34th Congress

in December 1855, Davis transmitted Meigs’ annual report to the

House and Senate as part of the War Department’s

yearly accounting of its activities. It took more

than five months for the House to officially notice

the report, and that attention would not be particularly welcomed. The problems in Kansas were

too worrisome to give legislators the leisure to

consider matters at the Capitol extension. Hurriedly settled by both abolitionists from New England and competing pro-slavery emigrants from

Missouri, Kansas was a state with a small but belligerent population, few peacemakers, and, at

times, two governors and two legislatures. Weak

and indecisive, President Pierce allowed matters

to fester without restoring order to the plains of

“Bleeding Kansas.” Speeches in Congress packed

the galleries with the anxious and idle alike.

In the spring of 1856 Edward Ball, a Whig representative from Ohio, asked the House to put

Kansas aside for a moment and allow him to

inquire into Captain Meigs’ business practices. He

introduced a resolution asking for an extensive

accounting of all the funds spent on the Capitol

and Post Office extensions. Ball was the chairman

of the House Committee on Public Buildings and

Grounds and a leading opponent of the Pierce

administration. He intended to expose what he

saw as fiscal irresponsibility in the War Department. Ball inquired about the cost of the marble

and how much the changes to the original specifications had cost. He wanted a full accounting of

the brick business; the number of horses, ox carts,

carriages, wagons, and buggies used by the Capitol

extension office; and all the shops, machinery,

steam engines, turning lathes, stone saws, and all

other tools belonging to the government. He asked

how much was spent to remove the old dome and

what contracts had been made for the construction of the new one. He inquired about the number

of sculptors, modelers, and bronze workers

employed and wondered under what authority or

law they had been hired. He demanded a list of

names of all persons (except laborers) employed

on the Capitol extension and their compensation.

And last, Ball called for copies of every contract

ever made for every part of the Capitol extension,

information regarding contract advertisements,

and statements whether the lowest bid was

accepted and, if not, why not. Nothing Ball could

have added would have made his requirements

more sweeping or comprehensive. To comply with

the extraordinary demand would require a mountain of paperwork, an army of clerks, and the

patience of Job. Ball insisted that such a report was

necessary “so that it may be seen how the law has

been disregarded and the public money wasted.” 104

Ball also condemned the sculpture being

carved in shops filled with Germans and Italians.

In his judgment, America’s Capitol was “made to

play the poor part of a wretched imitator of the

broken-down monarchies in the Old World.” Moving to painting and the crush of sightseers in the

Agriculture Committee room, which his committee

was using temporarily, Ball declared:

There is in a room, over yonder, in the south

wing, known as the frescoed room, now, by your

favor, Mr. Speaker, occupied by the Committee

on Public Buildings and Grounds—that is, when

permitted to do so by the crowd of persons

attracted there from day to day—a variety of

pictures, some of them got up in bad taste; but

no matter for that now; take them all in all, they

are very beautiful to look at, but the great mass

of the people of the country would think it

strange inconsistency to expend $3,600 for

such pictures, or $500 for the beautiful marble

mantel which is there, in an Administration

which can not spare one dollar to be expended

in clearing out obstructions to navigation from

the mouth of the Mississippi, or the lakes of the

Northwest—also important to the commerce of

the country.105

After touching on a few other subjects, the

Ohio legislator came to the matter of the unfinished dome. He had distinctly understood that the

new dome would be finished before the opening of
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 257

the 34th Congress. He had also understood that it

would cost $100,000. Now it was clear that he had

been duped: the cost would be at least a million

dollars and it would take many years to finish. The

fault, Ball insisted, was with military superintendence, and he declared that it would be better to

board it up rather than continue with the wasteful,

extravagant, and possibly illegal construction. Soon

after Ball took his seat the resolution of inquiry

was adopted by the House of Representatives.

Meigs thought it ironic that Ball’s resolution

really accused him of “building too strong and too

well.” 106 But just before he could begin to prepare

his reply he fell dangerously ill. For more than five

weeks he was confined to his home, taking calomel

and quinine to ease what he called a “bilious remitment,” a form of typhoid.107 His father, a physician,

and his mother were called from Philadelphia to

help nurse their ailing son and to assist army doctors who were also in attendance. Although pained

by severe headaches, Meigs never lost consciousness and wrote in his journal that he signed checks

throughout his illness. Still recovering, he left on a

trip north during the first week in July, visiting his

family in Pennsylvania, looking at paintings in New

York, and inspecting the quarry in Massachusetts.

When he returned to Washington, he appeared to

Walter to be “all cocked and primed for business.” 108

In his response to Ball’s questions, Meigs

accounted for the funds expended upon various

components of the extension project and explained

why the work was so far over budget. The original

estimate developed in 1851 was for a plainer, less

artistically decorated building. To illustrate the

point, Meigs tallied the cost of sculpture commissioned for the extension. Crawford’s bronze doors

would cost about $13,600 each, while the Columbus doors by Rogers, which were slightly larger,

would cost about $14,000. The doors could have

been made more cheaply if the sculpture were

cast in pieces and screwed to wooden panels, as

was done at Walhalla in Munich or at the Madeleine

in Paris. But the Capitol’s doors were to be made

like the most perfect ornamental doors in the

world, those at the Baptistry in Florence, where

everything—the figures as well as the panels—was

cast as one piece.109

One of Ball’s inquiries asked about the cost of

the elaborate frames for the windows on the second, or principal floor. These frames consisted of

pediments supported by consoles carved with Grecian flowers and draped with acanthus leaves. Like

many details of the outside marble work, the

frames were similar in form and character to those

of the old building but were more deeply and

boldly carved and more elaborately designed, using

elements borrowed from Grecian architecture.

The original specifications stated that Provost &

Winter should copy the manner by which the

frames in the old building were made, but Meigs

altered that provision in order to use larger blocks

of marble. The change resulted in doubling the

cost of the window frames (from $822 to $1,660),

yet Meigs claimed that their stability and durability were increased fourfold. The engineer

answered all of Ball’s questions with confidence,

backing each assertion with minute accountings

from the project’s well-kept records.

In another report Meigs stated that an additional $2,835,000 would be needed to finish the

extension. Of this amount, he needed $750,000

immediately to carry on until a regular appropriation was made. The monthly expenditures on the

extension averaged between $80,000 and $90,000,

and work would stop unless an immediate infusion

of cash was given by Congress. In response, Ball

introduced a provision to remove the Capitol and

other civilian projects from military control, and

Meigs began to feel glum, thinking his days at the

Capitol were numbered.110 He cheered up, however, upon learning of stiff opposition to Ball’s

scheme in the Democratically controlled Senate.

There a bipartisan group of senators, James A.

Pearce of Maryland, Lewis Cass of Michigan,

William H. Seward of New York, and Robert M. T.

Hunter of Virginia, defended Meigs “with strength

and vigor.” 111 On August 15, the Senate gave what

Meigs referred to as “3 separate votes of confidence.” 112 Having already defeated Ball’s plan to

remove him from the public works, the Senate

voted an additional $750,000 for the Capitol,

$100,000 for the dome, and $500,000 for the aqueduct. There had been some discussion about the

eventual cost of the extension and dome, but there

was considerable support in the Senate for these

projects irrespective of costs. Stephen Douglas of

Illinois thought the purpose of the dome project

was to build the finest one in the world, and he
258 History of the United States Capitol

was willing to see the project through to the end.

Seward backed the extension project as a symbol

the nation would continue whole and united. It

was perhaps the first time that the continuation of

either the Capitol extension or the dome was

viewed as a symbol that the nation would continue. Meigs reported in his journal that the senior

senator from New York was initially

opposed to the commencement of the Capitol

extension, but he found at that time base and

weak men talking about the dissolution of the

Union, and he had seized upon the Capitol

extension and voted for and encouraged it as a

reply to all such weak and foolish talk. He

thought now that, when the same foolish words

were being spoken, it was a sight well worth its

cost to see the Congress, in the midst of all this

agitation, going on quietly and voting a million

for completing the Capitol of this Federal

Union and thus showing the little regard they

had for the foolish fears of those who talked

about its end.113

In another show of support, Congress appropriated $20,000 to commission works of art under

the authority of the Joint Committee on the

Library. Meigs had encouraged such acquisitions

by furnishing scores of niches calling for statues

and vast walls begging for paintings. This money

given to the Library Committee was the first effort

to fill those vacant spaces. On August 18, 1856,

the engineer wrote to a committee member to

suggest filling the niches with statues of distinguished legislators and hanging great history paintings above the landings of the four monumental

stairways. The first painting should be done by

“the most eminent painter now living whether

native or foreign.” Thus, it would serve as a standard of excellence for all the paintings to follow.

He recommended that the committee consider

hiring a famous French artist and named three

possible candidates, including Horace Vernet; considering the pivotal French participation in the

final battle in the American Revolution, Meigs

noted that the siege of Yorktown would be an

appropriate subject for Vernet’s brush. The committee wrote Vernet asking if he would paint a picture for $10,000. Vernet, however, was unwilling to

accept the commission.114

The appropriation remained unspent for two

years while the committee considered its next

move. In 1859, it commissioned two statues from

Hiram Powers, one of Benjamin Franklin for the

House wing and one of Thomas Jefferson for the

Senate wing. Powers had been offered commissions before, but his only work in the Capitol was a

bust of Chief Justice John Marshall commissioned

in 1836. American artists remained critical that his

work and the work of other native-born artists

were not better represented in the Capitol.

HARMONY’S 

FINAL DAYS

Meigs finished removing the last

stones from the old dome during

the fall of 1856. He marveled at

how easily the steam-powered derrick lifted stones

weighing three tons and set them down in strong

wagons to be hauled away. (Meigs figured that it

cost forty cents a cubic yard to remove the old

stonework.115) He was also impressed with the

speed at which drawings for the extension and

dome could be copied by John Wood, a photographer hired on September 30, 1856, at $3.50 a day.

By using photography, Woods copied drawings far

more rapidly than Walter’s draftsmen. He also

recorded the work’s progress in prints pasted into

large volumes for office reference. Photographic

albums were sent to libraries, museums, and

schools both here and abroad, to satisfy the world’s

curiosity about America’s great construction project. West Point was the first institution to receive

photographs from the captain of engineers (class

of ‘36). Meigs intended to send additional sets of

photographs to Crawford for himself and the Academy of Rome.116

Throughout his service at the Capitol Meigs

kept up a regular correspondence with the press

and others, offering explanations about the works

or responding to misinformation appearing in print

or elsewhere. He wrote Joseph Henry a stern letter protesting his paper entitled “The Science of

Sound applied to Public Buildings,” read before

the annual meeting of the American Association

for the Advancement of Science. Henry’s paper

implied that the revised floor plans of the Capitol

extension were the product of the commission on

acoustics. Meigs wanted it made clear that he was

the sole author of the plans, which he called “the
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 259

first intelligent plans for public buildings.” The

commission had merely approved them.117 He did

not wish to be placed in a subordinate position or

appear to have lamely followed the superior wisdom of his fellow commission members. “It is of

importance to me,” Meigs wrote emphatically, “that

I have the credit of these designs.” 118

In November 1856, Meigs wrote the last annual

report that he would submit to Davis.119 It was

somewhat longer than usual, but filled with the

captain’s usual detail and brimming with confidence. The outside marble work was up to the

architrave. Much of the stonework for the connecting corridors had been wrought and was in

storage until needed next spring. It was thought

best not to begin the corridors until a long recess

allowed noisy construction to proceed with vigor.

There was considerable progress to report on interior marble work as well. All the shafts, capitals,

and pilasters in the hall of columns were set, the

Senate vestibule was almost finished, and the private and public staircases were begun. Columns

for the House vestibule and the Senate retiring

room were carved but not yet installed.

Naturally, Meigs also said much about the artwork. All of Crawford’s figures for Progress of Civilization were either in hand or on their way to

Washington. Brumidi’s frescoes in the House Committee on Agriculture room were finished, and

Meigs asserted that he intended to carry out the

same style of decorations in other rooms. The ceiling in the Senate Committee on Naval Affairs room

(modern day S–127) had been painted in distemper and fresco and the walls in oil. “The decoration of this room,” Meigs instructed his readers, “is

in the style derived from the remains of ancient

painting in the baths of Titus and the excavations

of Pompeii. Panels on the walls are being filled

with pictures of our naval battles.” Other rooms

were in the hands of a small band of decorators,

who worked in a variety of styles and media.

At the conclusion of his report, Meigs wrote

that almost $800,000 had been spent on the Capitol extension during the 1856 building season.

Even after that large expenditure, more than

$700,000 remained to his favor in the treasury.

Without giving details, Meigs requested $900,000

to continue another year. Congress granted the

request without debate, and Pierce signed the

appropriation on the last day of his administration.

A second report gave an account of the

progress made on the dome during 1856.120 The

last part of the old inner dome was removed following the adjournment of Congress in August.

Once the rubble been hauled away, the remaining

stone wall above the interior cornice was repointed

with hydraulic cement and new brickwork laid

with hoop iron reinforcement. The thirty-six

columns of the lower peristyle had been delivered

and the cantilevering brackets were about to be

cast. Of the $200,000 appropriated for the dome in

1855 and 1856, $157,000 remained in the account.

Meigs asked for and received an additional

$500,000 for the next year’s work.

Congress did not wish the lack of money to be

used as an excuse for not finishing the extension

promptly. It granted all that Meigs asked for, but

still wanted to know how much money would be

required and how much longer it would take before

the wings were finished. When the secretary of

war asked him about the completion date, Meigs

estimated that it would require two more years to

finish the wings. He calculated that 220,000 cubic

feet of marble was still needed and proposed yet

another trip to the quarry to see about its expeditious delivery. Meigs left Washington for Massachusetts on November 18, 1856, determined to

press the importance of faster delivery of marble

and to satisfy himself that next year’s supply of

stone would be adequate. While in Philadelphia, he

received a letter from Walter with news that a fire

had damaged his office. It started when a spark

from a hot-air furnace under the floor ignited

wooden planks, which were used as a floor covering until the tile arrived. Many of Walter’s drawings,

framed pictures, photographs, artists’ sketches,

drawing boards, instruments, and valuable papers

were lost. Luckily the fire was contained in one

room and did not damage the outside marble.

Upon his return, Meigs inspected his damaged

office and went on a tour of the extension. In the

Naval Affairs Committee room, he was disappointed with the work of George West, a temperamental artist who was painting marine scenes on

the walls. West did not appreciate Meigs’ criticism

but declared that he would erase the paintings if

naval men and artists agreed they were bad. Soon
260 History of the United States Capitol

West quit in a huff, saying that it was his misfortune to be born an American instead of English,

Irish, Italian, or German.121 Meanwhile, other rooms

were being finished and handed over to committees anxious for meeting space. Because the central heating apparatus was not yet working, Meigs

set up coal stoves as temporary measures in these

rooms. The room intended for the House Committee on Territories (modern day H–128) was

reported finished, painted, and decorated on January 12, 1857, and the Judiciary Committee room

was suitable for use (although not yet decorated).

Near the end of the Pierce administration

Meigs asked John Wood to print twenty-seven large

Senate Committee on Naval Affairs

Of all the highly decorated rooms and corridors by Brumidi and his fellow artists,

this one appeared the most foreign to American eyes. Here, murals unearthed in 

Pompeii were the source of inspiration.

The room is currently occupied by the Senate Committee on Appropriations.

(1995 photograph.)
Captain M.C. Meigs, Engineer in Charge 261

photographs, which included Crawford’s models

for Progress of Civilization and views and drawings showing the Capitol extension and new dome.

He sent these to Davis as memorials of the great

projects they directed.122 Davis was returning to

the Senate as soon as the next administration took

over on March 4, 1857. There he would assume

the chairmanship of the Committee on Military

Affairs, a position he would use to defend military

control of civilian construction projects. Pierce’s

lackluster term had been a great disappointment

to his fellow Democrats, who denied him renomination. Instead, they picked James Buchanan of

Pennsylvania, who had spent most of the time during the Kansas-Nebraska troubles quietly serving

as minister to Great Britain.

On March 24, 1857, ex-President Pierce went

to see Meigs at the Capitol and was disappointed

to learn that he was in Georgetown attending to

aqueduct business. He sat at Meigs’ desk and wrote

a letter to express his appreciation for the engineer’s “personal kindness and friendship.” 123 The

former president was about to leave Washington

with his wife to spend the month of April in

Philadelphia. Pierce asked Meigs for a letter of

introduction to his father, who might help restore

Jane Appleton Pierce’s health. (She had suffered

from chronic depression since witnessing the accidental death of her young son Bennie in 1853.)

Upon discovering the letter on his desk, Meigs

wrote his father asking him to return the “kindness and confidence” that had supported him for

the last four years. The president earned his family’s gratitude along with the “affection” of the

American people.124

Meigs’ sympathies for the former president

were understandable. During the past four years

he had enjoyed the full confidence and support of

the president and the War Department, but those

days were over. Buchanan was now president and

a new secretary of war, John B. Floyd, was in

charge. A former governor of Virginia, Floyd saw

the War Department as little more than a tool to

reward the party faithful and to enrich his friends.

Quarrelsome, corrupt, and duplicitous, he would

help sink the Buchanan administration to a level of

unprecedented incompetence and impropriety.

Peaceful times at the Capitol were at an end.

Statue of America

by Thomas Crawford

1855

The central figure of Crawford’s Progress of Civilization was a personification of

America flanked by a rising sun and an eagle. Despite Jefferson Davis’ initial objection, the liberty cap worn by the figure of America was retained in the final design.

This photograph was taken in Rome soon after Crawford completed the model. 

A similar photograph was given to Jefferson Davis upon his retirement from the War

Department in 1857.