THE BULFINCH YEARS,

1818–1829

125

Architects generally found the Capitol an unlucky place to work. Hallet, Hadfield, and Latrobe saw their

work hampered by inexperienced and unsympathetic commissioners and quit the Capitol worn out

and discouraged. Latrobe alone was able to leave a

notable architectural legacy, and even this was

appreciated only after his departure. The Capitol

seemed more a place to ruin reputations and wreck

careers than to build them. Yet the architect who

replaced Latrobe, Charles Bulfinch of Boston, was

able to break the curse and to prove that it was

possible to thrive in the politically charged atmosphere of Washington.

Well before Latrobe resigned in November 1817

it was common knowledge that he could not last

long. William Lee, a Massachusetts native living in

Washington, wrote Bulfinch on September 17 with

news of Latrobe’s pending removal. Lee was an

auditor in the Treasury Department, a friend of

Latrobe, and a confidant of President Monroe.

Knowing the situation well, he advised Bulfinch to

apply for the position. “I am sorry, for Latrobe, who

is an amiable man, possesses genius and has a large

family,” Lee wrote sympathetically, “but in addition

to the President not being satisfied with him there

is an unaccountable and I think unjust prejudice

against him in the Government, Senate and Congress.” 1 Lee went on to say that the climate of

Washington was not as bad as most New Englanders thought, and from April to December it was as

comfortable as the south of France. Society was

“on the best footing” and the opportunities for

gaining a national reputation were good. In short,

moving to Washington would not be as bad as one

might think.

Bulfinch’s response was a mixture of deference

to Latrobe, intrigue at the prospect of a prestigious

commission, and dread of breaking up his household and family ties in Boston. He especially disliked the idea of being party to Latrobe’s removal:

I have always endeavored to avoid unpleasant

competition with others, that opposing their

interest would excite enmity and ill will. I

should much regret to be an instrument of

depriving a man of undoubted talents of an

employment which places him at the head of

his profession and which is necessary to his

family’s support.2

Concern with the disruption of his own family,

particularly the education of his younger children,

CHAPTER FOUR

View of the Capitol (Detail)

by Charles Burton, 1824 

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Purchase

Joseph Pulitzer Bequest, 1942
126 History of the United States Capitol

was the principal reason Bulfinch winced at the

thought of moving to Washington. Yet the chance

to complete the nation’s Capitol presented a strong

inducement. Bulfinch would consider it only if a

vacancy occurred for reasons entirely unconnected

with himself.

Over the following few weeks Lee kept Bulfinch

abreast of developments in Washington. At the

beginning of October he wrote that the president

returned from New England determined to dismiss

Latrobe but was prevented by friends of the architect. Lee thought the situation would not allow

both Latrobe and Lane to continue much longer

and predicted that the architect would be dismissed because the commissioner had more

friends. Again he described the plight of the beleaguered architect with sympathy:

I do not know how it is, but so it is, Latrobe

has many enemies; his great fault is being poor.

He is, in my opinion, an amiable, estimable

man, full of genius and at the head of his profession. Every carpenter and mason thinks he

knows more than Latrobe, and such men have

got on so fast last year with the President’s

house (a mere lathing and plastering job) that

they have the audacity to think they ought to

have the finishing of the Capitol, a thing they

are totally unfit for. That superb pile ought to

be finished in a manner to do credit to the

country and the age.3

Bulfinch’s name was mentioned to the president

in case Latrobe was forced to leave. Lee urged him

to write the president directly but he refused to

make a move as long as Latrobe remained in office.

Bulfinch thought Latrobe’s “talents entitle him to

the place, and that he is the most proper person to

rebuild what he had once so well effected.” 4

A few days after Latrobe left office, Senator

Harrison Gray Otis of Massachusetts went to see

Monroe to ask if the architect’s office should be

filled by “looking to Boston.” 5 The reference to

Bulfinch was all too obvious and the president

replied: “Sir, we are looking to him, but Mr.

Latrobe is a great loss, and it will require perhaps

two persons to supply his place, and we think also

of a Mr. McComb.” Monroe asked Otis to provide

background information on Bulfinch’s character,

qualifications, family, and current circumstances.

Monroe told the senator that the commissioner of

public buildings had been instructed to write

Boston with an offer. “I am thus led to suppose,”

Otis wrote Bulfinch, “that the business may be

Portrait of Charles Bulfinch

by George Matthews, 1931 

after Alvan Clark, 1842

Descended from a prominent New England family,

Bulfinch (1763–1844) was educated at Harvard in mathematics and drawing. His understanding of ancient and modern architecture was gained principally through books and

during an extensive European tour mapped out by Thomas

Jefferson. In England he admired the work of Robert

Adam and William Chambers, whose differing styles of neoclassicism influenced his subsequent work. After his

return to Boston, Bulfinch’s first major project was the

Tontine Crescent, a row of sixteen townhouses that, while

beautifully designed, brought financial disaster to the

young architect. A more successful project was the elegant

Massachusetts Statehouse, which landed him at the top of

his field in New England and secured his reputation in the

realm of public architecture. Samuel Adams and Paul

Revere laid its cornerstone on July 4, 1795.

Bulfinch balanced a career as an architect with public

service, holding a number of top posts in Boston’s city government. While his finances were slow to recover, his reputation and standing in the community rose steadily. When

asked to succeed Latrobe at the Capitol he accepted with

reluctance yet grew to like the job as well as the city of

Washington. He was justifiably proud of his accomplishments, such as the beautiful room he designed for the

Library of Congress, which was unfortunately destroyed in

1851. He completed the building in 1826, finished the landscaping in 1829, and quietly retired to Boston a year later.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 127

considered done.” Dropping the idea of hiring

two architects, the next day Lane wrote

Nehemiah Freeman of Boston, asking him to

inform Bulfinch of his appointment as architect

of the Capitol. Not wanting the least ambiguity

about their relative positions to cause problems

in the future, he wished the architect to be

reminded that “the appointment is entirely at the

disposal of the Commissioner.” 6

Although Bulfinch’s appointment was handled

through friends, the groundwork had been laid

during two visits that brought him face-to-face

with President Monroe. The first, his tour of Washington in early January 1817, was followed by the

president’s trip to New England during the summer of the same year. While Bulfinch was the de

facto mayor of Boston as chairman of the board of

selectmen, most of his income was made through

an architectural practice. After the close of the

War of 1812, Massachusetts embarked on a program of public improvements that included construction of two hospitals—one general and one

for the insane. Bulfinch was the architect of both.

While on a fact-finding tour of medical facilities in

New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, Bulfinch

made a three-day visit to Washington to see Congress in session at the Brick Capitol. During this

sightseeing trip, former Senator James Lloyd of

Massachusetts introduced him to President Monroe, who asked the commissioner of public buildings to escort their distinguished guest over the

works at the Capitol. Before dashing off to Baltimore, Latrobe met Bulfinch at the Capitol on January 7, 1817, showed him the restoration plans,

and took him around. Hoban showed similar courtesies at the President’s House. Bulfinch was entertained in Dolley Madison’s drawing room two

nights in a row, where he found “a great display of

beauty and a collection of distinguished persons

from all parts of our country.” 7 During this short

stay he made friends in Washington and, more

important, made the personal acquaintances of

the president and commissioner, acquaintances

that would pay unexpected dividends in the near

future. They were obviously impressed by an architect of such high political stature, a calm, deliberate man with polished manners and an impeccable

New England pedigree. The contrast with their

brilliant but high-strung architect must have been

startling. Having enjoyed his visit, Bulfinch parted

company never expecting to see them or the Capitol again.8

Six months after Bulfinch left Washington,

news reached Boston that Monroe planned a visit

to the city on his New England tour. A committee

was appointed to provide the president with a warm

and cordial reception, and, as chairman of the

selectmen, Bulfinch was put at its head. They met

the president and his party in Providence, Rhode

Island, and escorted them to Dedham, Massachusetts, and on to Boston, where they arrived on July

2, 1817. After a brief speech by Senator Otis, a

parade marched through the streets of Boston amid

the cheers of an enthusiastic crowd of spectators.

Monroe on a white charger, Bulfinch and other

committee members in open carriages, and military

officers and citizens on horseback, they rode two

and a half miles accompanied by music from bands

positioned along the way. Coming upon a throng of

four thousand children holding red and white roses,

Monroe stopped a moment to admire the extraordinary sight. The parade ended at the Exchange

Coffee House, where Bulfinch welcomed the president in the name of the people of Boston. Monroe

made a suitable reply, after which the party

adjourned for a dinner attended by former President John Adams, the president of Harvard College, and the lieutenant governor of Massachusetts.

Over the next four days, Monroe was escorted

around the city; to church services; to Cambridge

where he received an honorary degree from Harvard; and to dinners and receptions. Much of his

time was spent with Bulfinch, who may have

pointed out some of the beautiful buildings he

designed that were such conspicuous ornaments of

the city. By the time the presidential party departed

for Salem, the former seat of Federalist discontent

had given Monroe a welcome as warm, friendly,

and hospitable as could have been wished. Here

began “The Era of Good Feelings,” and the president may have asked himself why things at the

Capitol could not proceed with similar harmony.

Through his office, education, and family,

Bulfinch’s place in Boston society was high; his

financial situation, however, was meager. Moving

to Washington was a venture not to be undertaken

lightly, but a steady paycheck was an important

consideration. Unlucky ventures in real estate had
128 History of the United States Capitol

cost him dearly. In 1796, bankruptcy took not only

all of his property but also that of his wife and parents. Earnings from his architectural practice were

erratic, and petty debts landed him in jail for a

month in 1811. The prospect of a dependable

income was enough to induce him to leave his home,

his relatives, and his friends. When he first heard of

the Capitol job, it was rumored that the architect’s

position and the commissioner’s job might be

blended together with a salary of $4,000 or $5,000 a

year. The prospect of earning that much money was

perhaps the strongest consideration Bulfinch gave

to his removal to Washington. He calculated that

$3,500 would support his family in decent comfort

and allow for entertainment expenses and hosting

friends from Boston.9 Lee thought that $3,000 would

be sufficient to live in the best manner, but when

the job was offered the salary was $2,500.10 But it

was still enough to entice Bulfinch to uproot his

family and move to Washington.

AT THE OFFICE

On December 22, 1817, Bulfinch presided

over his last meeting of the board of

selectmen. The following March his service to Boston was acknowledged at the city’s annual

meeting when the thanks of the town were presented in a resolution. While grateful, Bulfinch privately considered the resolution thanking him for

almost nineteen years of public service somewhat

stingy, referring to it as “the cheap reward of

republics.” 11 Leaving his political career behind,

Bulfinch departed Boston in the company of his

son and reached Washington during the first week

of January 1818. They went immediately to the

President’s House to see Monroe. Father and son

were received in a beautifully decorated apartment

by the president, who welcomed them to the federal city, promised his support, and encouraged

the elder Bulfinch to confer frequently with him on

matters relating to the Capitol.12 Following a courtesy call on Secretary of State John Quincy Adams

the next day, Bulfinch went to the Capitol to take

possession of his office. There he received his

official appointment from the commissioner and

was perhaps surprised to find that his salary had

started on December 11, 1817.13 He took possession of the architect’s office in the Capitol, a room

about 20 feet by 25 feet, that was furnished with

tables, desks, drawing paper, and drafting instruments. Bulfinch’s office hours were from 10 o’clock

in the morning until 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

14

Led by the head carpenter Peter Lenox,

Bulfinch made a minute examination of the two

wings, was introduced to the foremen, and visited

the sheds, where he found most of the 120 workmen cutting and polishing Potomac marble. He

was favorably impressed by Lenox, whom he called

“an intelligent, middle-aged man,” and was grateful to have him lead the way. “Without such a

guide,” Bulfinch wrote his wife, “it would be impossible for a stranger to tread the mazes of this

labyrinth.” He returned to his office to study the

drawings left by Latrobe. Some showed the

approved design of the wings and some showed

the plan for the center building, which was still

unsettled. Initially struck by the stunning quality

of Latrobe’s artistry, Bulfinch soon found fault with

some aspects of the designs:

At first view of these drawings, my courage

almost failed me—they are beautifully executed, and the design is in the boldest style—

after longer study I feel better satisfied and

more confident in meeting public expectations.

There are certain faults enough in Latrobe’s

designs to justify the opposition to him. His

style is calculated for display in the greater

parts, but I think his staircases in general are

crowded, and not easy of access, and the passages intricate and dark. Indeed, the whole

interior, except the two great rooms, has a

somber appearance.

Bulfinch was critical of the staircases and passageways in the two wings. He also did not care

for the spareness of decoration that seemed

unnecessarily “somber.” Bulfinch’s own approach

to interior design would be more clear and direct,

less complicated than the plan of the wings. Room

arrangements would be straightforward and easily

understood. Stairs would be easy to find, broad,

and gentle. Passages would be straight, wide without being wasteful, and well lighted. And, where

appropriate, delicate moldings and carvings would

be used as ornamental trim to provide refined elegance. Part of Bulfinch’s architectural style had

been developed in Boston and part was a reaction

to what he disliked about Latrobe’s taste. He

would not be unduly influenced by his predecessor’s work except where there was no other choice
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 129

but to carry on with what had been started. There

would be plenty of opportunities to make his own

mark on the center building, which he began to

design soon after arriving in Washington. Naturally, the outside would follow the basic design of

the wings, but there was also room for invention,

particularly around the porticoes and dome.

Everything inside the center building would showcase Bulfinch’s taste.

At the beginning of 1818, Congress appropriated $200,000 to continue repair of the public

buildings. The Senate requested an up-to-date

report on expenditures, an account of the progress

made so far, and an estimate of the cost of finishing

the wings. Lane reported that $159,655 (“Errors

excepted”) had been spent to repair the Capitol in

1817 and transmitted a statement from the architect about conditions at the Capitol.15 Bulfinch

acknowledged that the designs of his predecessor

would produce splendid public rooms that would

“exhibit favorable specimens of correct taste and

the progress of the arts in our country.” He was

preparing several designs for the center building

from which the president might choose. As soon as

the weather permitted, the principal and back staircases in the north wing would be installed and the

roof would be ready for its copper covering. The

framing of the roof over the south wing was about

two-thirds prepared. Most of the doors and all the

window frames and sashes were made, and there

was enough glass on hand for glazing. Only three

columns and two pilasters for the House chamber

were finished, but fifteen columns and two pilasters

were in the hands of the cutters and polishers; the

rest were at the quarry. Bulfinch estimated that

$28,000 was needed to finish the marble work and

predicted that all the columns would be completed

by August. Other marble work included three styles

of mantels: twenty for small committee rooms at

eighty dollars each; twenty for larger committee

rooms at $100 each; and ten mantels for the principal rooms at $200 each. He estimated that the sixteen pilasters on the upper wall of the Senate

chamber would cost a total of $3,200. (These were

omitted later.) It was impossible to estimate the

cost of the allegorical statuary, but the sculptors’

salaries would amount to $8,000 for the year ahead.

A total of $177,803 was needed to finish the

restoration of the Capitol’s two wings.

In the House of Representatives, the Committee on Expenditures on Public Buildings, chaired

by Henry St. George Tucker of Virginia, made its

own inquiries into the financial state of affairs. It

found the probable cost of restoring the Capitol,

President’s House, and executive offices would be

one million dollars—twice the original estimate. It

duly noted that the cost of restoration was likely to

come very close to the amount originally spent to

build these structures. It blamed the exorbitant

cost overruns on the changes made to the plans of

the Capitol, particularly those made to the north

wing.16 The expense of the marble columns greatly

aggravated the situation. Lane wrote Tucker’s committee about the columns and the trouble they

caused. He described the history of Potomac marble, the original contract with John Hartnet for

shafts needed for the House of Representatives,

and Hartnet’s inability to uphold his part of the

bargain. Not wishing to abandon the marble, and

not finding anyone else to partner with Hartnet,

the president and the commissioner decided to

operate the quarry with public funds, hiring a large

gang to speed the work along. Temporary huts furnished with bedding and cooking utensils were

built for workmen. Clothing for slaves was also provided. These extraordinary expenses accounted

for much of the cost overrun, but Lane hoped the

expense and headache would be worthwhile. He

confessed that the marble had been a source of

“perpetual anxiety and vexation.” 17

A few weeks later Lane again wrote Tucker

explaining how the works had been affected by

increasing labor and material costs. He stated that

from February 1, 1815, to January 1, 1818, a total

of $324,100 had been spent to restore the north

and south wings, which compared favorably with

the $788,071 expended to build them initially. He

also provided a chart to compare the price of goods

and services during different periods.

1793–1800 1800–1812 1815–1818

Stone cutters’ daily wage $1.25 in winter $1.50 in winter $2.50 in winter 

$1.33 in summer $1.75 in summer $2.75 in summer

Brick layers’ daily wage $1.50 in winter $1.50 in winter $2.00 in winter

$1.75 in summer $1.75 in summer $2.75 in summer

A laborer’s daily wage 75¢ 75¢ $1.00

Sandstone per ton $7–$8 $8–$9 $10–$12

Brick per thousand $7 $7–$7.50 $9–$9.50 
130 History of the United States Capitol

Tucker’s committee was satisfied that work

was being done as quickly and economically as conditions permitted. Lane assured the committee

that the wings would be ready by November 1818.

Inadequate funding was the only thing that could

disappoint congressional hopes of returning to the

Capitol. On the last day of the session, Congress

passed a series of appropriations specifically for

the Capitol in addition to the $200,000 already

given for the public buildings. Eighty thousand dollars was allocated to complete the wings, $30,000

was given to furnish the hall of the House and committee rooms, and $20,000 for furnishing the Senate chamber and committee rooms. It was clear

that there would not be enough committee rooms

until the center building was completed. The shortage would be particularly annoying to the House of

Representatives in the south wing, which had only

nine rooms available for committee use. Bulfinch

designed a temporary wooden structure a hundred

feet long, forty-two feet wide, and ten feet high

containing twelve rooms and a passage; he estimated that it would cost $3,634, which Congress

readily granted. One hundred thousand dollars was

also appropriated to begin the center building.18 It

was the most flush day in the history of the Capitol’s accounts in the twenty-five years since the

building was begun.

At the beginning of the 1818 building season,

labor troubles and construction problems set the

works back sufficiently to shatter hopes of seating

Congress in the Capitol that fall.19 First, stone cutters struck for higher wages, bringing their critical

work to a standstill for a month. On May 25, 1818,

Blagden was instructed to find replacements in

Baltimore, but he had to warn the newcomers of

possible reprisals from the striking workmen.20 The

menacing behavior of seven or eight discharged

stone cutters landed them in jail and a detachment

of Marines was deployed to keep fellow masons

from attempting a rescue. Tempers cooled and the

masons’ union was dissolved. Lane did not want to

rehire stone cutters who went on strike, but Blagden could not find enough hands in Baltimore to

replace them all.21

At the end of April 1818 workmen were preparing to build the stone lantern that would crown the

roof of the north wing. Unlike its twin on the south

wing, which was made of wood, the Senate’s lantern

was built of stone because it contained flues

snaking up from eighteen fireplaces. Latrobe had

designed a barrel vault forty feet long and thirty

feet wide to carry the lantern, but when work progressed under Bulfinch’s supervision the vault did

not appear strong enough to support the flues and

lantern. When the centering was removed, the

curb encircling the opening at the top of the vault

twisted out of shape by four inches and collapse

appeared imminent.22 Workmen scattered and

would not go near it until it was shored up. With

the help of General Swift and Colonel Bomford,

Bulfinch devised a way to support the lantern and

prop up the vault. Under the aperture a hollow

cone was built that was similar to (but much

smaller than) the one devised by Sir Christopher

Wren to support the cupola at St. Paul’s in London. The crown of the cone was fifteen feet in

diameter, matching the interior diameter of the

lantern. Light and air passed through this opening

to the skylight over the Senate lobby and to interior windows in the third-floor corridor and the

small staircase sometimes referred to as the

“library stair.”

While the cone successfully solved a potentially dangerous problem, its construction delayed

completion of the roof by four weeks. Bulfinch

wrote an account of the problem, which he transmitted to Congress along with his annual report.

Soon thereafter Latrobe retaliated with a printed

pamphlet entitled Vindication of His Professional

Skill.23 Bristling under what he considered harsh

censure, Latrobe argued the case of an “Old public

Servant.” He stated that the arch was not begun

until after he resigned, yet he had been so concerned about it that he returned to instruct the

masons on how to build it. He blamed George Blagden for spreading unfounded fears about the security of his arches and for working behind the scenes

to discredit the vaulting system used in the two

wings. Properly built, such an arch would have supported ten times the weight it was expected to

carry. He had intended to lay in an iron hoop at the

circular opening for strength and to use more iron

in the lantern itself. If his intentions had been followed, no problem would have been encountered

and his engineering skill would not have been questioned. In the end, Latrobe’s pamphlet accomplished nothing and probably struck readers as

new evidence of a particularly thin skin.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 131

During this period Lane continued searching

for mantels. In 1817 he sent a large order for Italian mantels via an English merchant and learned

that 161 cases of chimney pieces had been shipped

from Leghorn in the beginning of October. How

many mantels were included in the shipment is

unclear, but it was not enough. On July 20, 1818,

Lane sent a drawing of a mantel to Senator David

Daggett of Connecticut, taking advantage of his

offer to negotiate with the owners of the Milford

verde antique quarry for four green marble mantels needed for the Senate chamber. “I confide to

your discretion,” wrote the commissioner, “to procure them on the best terms in your power.” 24 Ten

days later Daggett replied with prices that alarmed

Lane. He wanted to oblige the senator’s wish to

see Connecticut marble in the Capitol, but did not

wish to waste the public’s money and incur the

wrath of “an august body that pays us an annual

visit.” 25 Speaking as a member of that august body,

Daggett replied that he too wished to avoid spending funds foolishly and assured Lane that mantels

from New Haven would not cause complaint.26

Lane’s concern about the mantels for the Senate chamber poses intriguing questions regarding

mantels ordered for that room from Traquair’s marble yard in Philadelphia before the fire of 1814.

Those mantels were designed by Giovanni Andrei,

ordered by George Blagden and Thomas Munroe,

made, and boxed up but stayed in Philadelphia after

news of the invasion was first heard. On April 17,

1817, Traquair wrote the commissioner that these

mantels had not been paid for and would remain

with him subject to orders from Washington.27 Five

months later, Blagden and Andrei were in Philadelphia and inspected the mantels to determine their

value.28 Lane was anxious for more mantels, especially those with appropriate carvings, and sent for

them. Why then did he need four mantels for the

Senate chamber the next year? And why were only

two of these mantels in the chamber when its

restoration was undertaken in the 1970s? The

answer may lie in a letter written in 1822 by Lane’s

successor to William Seaton, one of the editors of

the National Intelligencer. To help settle Lane’s

estate, Seaton was asked about the price paid for a

chimneypiece sold him by the deceased commissioner. Seaton replied that it was presented to him

as a gift.29 If Lane were, indeed, in the habit of handing out chimneypieces to influential members of the

press, it would well explain why multiple sets of

mantels were ordered for the Senate chamber.

On June 15, 1818, the last cargo of Potomac

marble left the quarry headed for the federal city.

Lane’s overseer there, Solomon Davis, made preparations to sell the public property on Samuel

Clapham’s land. Virtually worthless things such as

workmen’s huts, bedding, blankets, pots, pans, and

other utensils, as well as more valuable items like

handpicks, hammers, axes, wedges, and derricks

had to be sold. Clapham initially did not want compensation for the marble but changed his mind

near the close of the project. Lane agreed to pay,

and they asked William Stewart and Thomas Towson, quarriers from Baltimore, to join them at the

quarry to determine the price. John Hartnet and

Solomon Davis were also there to explain how

much stone was extracted from the site. Together,

the two impartial judges determined that the commissioner should pay Clapham $1,500 and recommended that someone else put a price on the value

of firewood and other timber consumed during

two years of government occupation.30

When Congress returned to Washington in

November 1818, the House Committee on Public

Buildings inspected the wings to see if everything

that could be done to finish them was being done.

It reported that more had been accomplished during the previous year than during any other period.

The chairman of the committee, Joseph Bellinger

of South Carolina, asked the commissioner to

explain why they were not ready as promised. Lane

forwarded Bulfinch’s annual report containing the

answers, but prefaced it by saying he too felt disappointed and promised to have everything ready

for the next Congress.31 Perhaps the delay was just

as well, Lane wrote, because airing out the interiors for another season would prevent the “green

and damp” conditions that otherwise would injure

the health of congressmen and senators.

Bulfinch’s report gave a succinct account of the

troubles preventing completion of the work. More

important, it detailed some expenses unforseen in

his last funding request and some that would be

incurred in finishing the restoration. Two thousand

dollars was spent to build the brick cone supporting

the lantern over the north wing. New York marble

for the Senate chamber would cost $15,000 by the
132 History of the United States Capitol

time the order was filled. Marble fashioned in

Philadelphia for the hall of the House would cost an

additional $1,300. Iron work and copper from London intended for the roof had been received but the

bill had not arrived by the time Bulfinch made out

his last funding request. Those materials cost

$14,282. And finally, $10,750 would be needed to

cover the invoice just received for the marble capitals carved in Italy for the Capitol. In all, Bulfinch

asked for $51,332 to cover these expenses.32

The reasons for the delay in completing the

restoration were fully understood and accepted

by the committee, which sympathetically thought

the sheer magnitude of the undertaking was a

powerful mitigating circumstance. More than once

while Latrobe was in office, Congress was

informed about delays and cost overruns and usually reacted harshly, often with attacks on the

architect. But the reaction to the current situation marked a new and welcome era of tranquility.

Without hesitation, the funds Bulfinch requested

were appropriated on the last day of the session,

as was the custom. In addition, $136,000 more

was given for the center building.33 Since it would

no longer be needed, Congress ordered the Brick

Capitol returned to its owners.34

Even as Lane and Bulfinch apologized for the

unfinished state of the Capitol, a few rooms in the

north wing were being occupied. On December 3,

1818, Senator Mahlon Dickerson of New Jersey,

chairman of the Joint Committee on the Library,

authorized Lane to start moving books into the

rooms on the third floor, which would house the

Library of Congress until the center building was

completed. In 1815 cash-strapped Thomas Jefferson sold Congress 6,487 volumes to replace those

lost in the fire. His personal library formed the

nucleus of the new congressional library, which was

first housed in the Brick Capitol. In March 1819 the

secretary of the Senate was informed that his room

on the second floor (modern day S–233) was ready,

signaling the return of Senate officers.

During the 1819 building season all the

columns in the House chamber had been set, the

entablature completed, and the wooden ceiling

finished. Bulfinch asked the Italian artist Pietro

Bonnani to develop schemes for painting the 

ceiling that would imitate a masonry dome with

coffers. On April 20, 1819, he informed the commissioner that the sketches were done and a decision was needed. A design derived from the Pantheon in Rome was selected, and Bonnani was put

to work transforming the smooth ceiling into what

would appear (until it was replaced in 1901) as a

coffered dome. While Bonnani worked above, Carlo

Franzoni’s magnificent clock, the Car of History,

was placed over the principal entrance at the north

end of the chamber. It was carved from one of the

scarce blocks of Italian white marble that Latrobe

had rescued from Blagden’s scheme to slice them

into hearths for the President’s House. Enrico Causici modeled Liberty and Eagle from twenty-five

barrels of isinglass plaster bought from a Baltimore

merchant.35 The sculpture was never carved in marble due to the lack of materials. The plaster group

was placed high above the Speaker’s chair.

In the Senate chamber, circumstances conspired to dilute much of Latrobe’s ambitious design.

Where the original plan called for a procession of

caryatids representing the union of states, the completed room had no allegorical sculpture at all.

Plans to cover the room with a brick dome were

canceled for reasons of safety, economy, and expediency. A plaster ceiling carried on wooden trusses

gave the impression of a masonry dome and was

elegantly decorated with plaster ornaments such

as stars, arrows, and Grecian honeysuckle. But the

overall effect was less than Latrobe had hoped and,

indeed, less than what had been seen in the old

chamber. After the room was rushed to completion, crimson drapery, mahogany furniture, and

brass lighting fixtures did something to restore the

overall impression of luxury and taste. While the

Senate chamber ranks high among Latrobe’s finest

interiors, he undoubtedly would have considered it

inferior to the room destroyed in 1814.

PLANNING THE 

CENTER BUILDING

Bulfinch had been on the job less than a

week when he was asked by the commissioner to give a plan and estimate

for the center building.36 The time had come to begin

the middle section, which had been deferred since

Stephen Hallet was dismissed in 1794. A committee

of the House of Representatives wished to review a

plan and Bulfinch wasted no time in preparing one.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 133

Latrobe’s plans remained in the office and would be

used as a point of departure. Bulfinch might also

have been aware of Hallet’s proposals for this part

of the Capitol because some of his square courtyard

foundations still remained in place. Dr. Thornton’s

thoughts on the subject were doubtless given when

Bulfinch visited him at the Patent Office shortly

after arriving in Washington. To his wife Bulfinch

described Thornton as “a very singular character,”

who still complained bitterly about Latrobe.37

One consideration governed Bulfinch’s thoughts

about the center building: he was obliged to provide

as many committee rooms as possible. There was

talk of doing away with the Capitol’s grandest

room—the rotunda—in order to gain more space

for committees. There were not enough rooms for

all the standing, joint, special, and select committees, and there was a growing need for offices as

well. Some thought the space taken up by the

rotunda was enough to supply all the committee

rooms Congress could ever use. They believed that

the room could be better devoted to the business of

Congress. To some, it was just a wastefully large

vestibule. A more modest entry flanked by committee rooms, some legislators thought, would better

suit the purpose of the Capitol.

Although its construction had been long

delayed, the idea of a central rotunda was one of

the few aspects of the original plan to survive from

the beginning. In 1793 Thornton proposed placing

the equestrian statue of George Washington voted

by Congress in the center of the room. (This was

Senate Chamber

Although the chandelier and the canopy date from a later period, this modern

view of the Senate chamber shows the room essentially as Bulfinch finished it in 1819.

The visitor gallery supported on marble columns is an original feature, while the semicircular gallery supported on metal columns was added in 1828. (1976 photograph.)
134 History of the United States Capitol

at odds with the L’Enfant plan, which placed it on

the Mall.) Soon after Washington’s death Thornton

suggested building a mausoleum for his remains in

the rotunda. He wrote that the monument was

intended to be made

of large blocks of white marble enclosing a

Tomb meant for the reception of his Body, with

that of his consort. The rocks of marble should

be crowned by a cloud & on this cloud the angel

of Immortality should be leading Washington by

the hand & pointing upward with expanded

wings ready to take flight with the enraptured

Chief, accompanied by the partner of his life. In

the lower region of the rocks there would be

subservient figures.38

However improbably, Thornton claimed that

his design was blessed by the Italian sculptor

Giuseppe Ceracchi. In Jefferson’s administration,

the idea of a hero’s mausoleum in the rotunda was

scrapped: it was to be the “Hall of the People.”

Latrobe’s revisions to the rotunda’s design eliminated the columns and placed large-scale niches

between the four doors located at the cardinal

points. A later design included twenty-four smaller

niches for portrait busts. Perhaps Jefferson wished

the rotunda to serve as a “most honourable suite,”

like the tea room at Monticello where busts of

Washington, Franklin, Lafayette, and John Paul

Jones were displayed.

In 1817 the first concrete step was taken to

define the role of the rotunda aside from being the

Capitol’s grand vestibule. The government commissioned John Trumbull to paint four scenes from the

American Revolution specifically for the room. The

artist had already sketched ideas for several scenes

and actively sought the federal commission. Among

his Revolutionary War scenes, the Declaration of

Independence in Congress, at Independence

Hall, Philadelphia, July 4, 1776 was the most

popular. Trumbull began sketches for the painting

in 1786 while visiting Jefferson in Paris. There the

Declaration’s author gave him a detailed description of the setting and provided other information

to guarantee an authentic depiction of the event.

In addition to the Declaration of Independence,

Congress wanted three more Revolutionary War

pictures and appropriated $32,000 on January 27,

1817, to pay for them. A noble series of history

paintings mounted in the heart of the Capitol would

honor the events surrounding the country’s quest

for independence and self-determination.

Questions still remained about how large the

paintings should be and what events other than the

signing of the Declaration should be depicted. The

artist met with President Madison to discuss the

size and subjects of the paintings, and he recalled

the conversation at length in his autobiography:

The size was first discussed. I proposed that

they should be six feet high by nine long, which

would give to the figures half the size of life.

The president at once overruled me. Consider,

sir, said he, the vast size of the apartment in

which these works are to be placed—the

rotunda, one hundred feet in diameter, and the

same in height—paintings of the size you propose, will be lost in such a space; they must be

of dimensions to admit the figures to be the

size of life.

This was so settled, and when we came to speak

of the subjects, the president first mentioned

the battle of Bunker’s Hill. Observing me to be

silent, Mr. Madison asked if I did not approve

that. My reply was that if the order had been

(as I had hoped) for eight paintings, I should

have named that first; but as there were only

four commanded, I thought otherwise. It

appeared to me, that there were two military

subjects paramount to all others. We had, in

the course of the Revolution, made prisoners of

two entire armies, a circumstance almost without parallel, and of course the surrender of

General Burgoyne at Saratoga, and that of Lord

Cornwallis at Yorktown, seemed to me indispensable. True, replied he, you are right; and

what for the civil subjects? The declaration of

independence, of course. What you have for

the fourth? Sir, I replied, I have thought that

one of the highest moral lessons ever given to

the world, was that presented by the conduct

of the commander-in-chief, in resigning his

power and commission as he did, when the

army, perhaps, would have been unanimously

with him, and few of the people disposed to

resist his retaining the power which he had

used with such happy success, and such irreproachable moderation. I would recommend,

then, the resignation of Washington. After a

momentary silent reflection, the president said,

I believe you are right; it was a glorious action.39

In gratifying detail, Trumbull recorded one of

the few contributions Madison made to the Capitol’s evolution. His decision in favor of full-size

figures established the scale of Trumbull’s works as

well as those to follow. Small studies were displayed in the Brick Capitol and, according to The

National Intellegencer, gave every indication that

the paintings would be a “credit to the artist and to

his country” when finished.40
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 135

Latrobe, who was still in office at the time,

was pleased by the congressional action that

promised great works of art for the rotunda,

telling Trumbull that he was “honored in having

my Walls destined to support your paintings.” 41

But determining how they would be displayed

was another matter. Latrobe worried about the

paintings hanging within reach because the canvases could be damaged by poking fingers or

walking sticks. If hung too high, they would have

to be tilted and would block views of sculpture

he planned to install above. Should the canvases

be stretched on frames to follow the curve of the

walls? Or would it be better to have them

stretched flat and straight? Letters passed

between the architect and artist discussing these

matters, with Trumbull first in favor of hanging

the paintings in straight frames from bronze rings

with the bottoms about twenty-two feet above

the floor.42 Latrobe countered with a suggestion

to insert the pictures on ledges built into the

walls leaving enough room for wooden frames.

They would stand almost six feet off the floor and

could be guarded by iron railings.43 While Trumbull thought about Latrobe’s proposal, the architect’s career in Washington was falling apart

around him. Six weeks after writing Trumbull,

Latrobe had resigned his position. Hanging Trumbull’s paintings was now Bulfinch’s job.

During his first few weeks at the Capitol,

Bulfinch tackled the problem of reconciling the

need for committee rooms with the importance of

providing a suitable place for Trumbull’s paintings.

On January 19, 1818, he wrote the artist (a friend

of twenty years) with an idea of replacing the

rotunda with committee rooms on the principal

floor and placing a picture gallery in the story

above. Access to the gallery would be provided by

a striking double circular staircase like the one he

admired in New York’s new city hall, and the works

of art would hang opposite windows facing east

under the central portico. Trumbull, however, considered this placement highly objectionable. After

describing a similar situation at the Louvre in Paris,

which he thought “execrable,” he lamented: “I

should be deeply mortified, if, having devoted my

life to recording the great events of the Revolution,

my paintings, when finished, should be placed in a

disadvantageous light. In truth, my dear friend, it

would paralyze my exertions.” 44 He urged Bulfinch

to retain the rotunda on the strength of its serving

as a perfect place to show his paintings. Trumbull

suggested protecting the paintings by placing

downward-leading staircases in front of them. Having a stairwell in front would put the paintings out

of reach, and access to the rotunda would be easier and more accommodating for sightseers.

The suggestion did not please Bulfinch, who

was not particularly happy with his initial idea

either. Fortunately, by mid-March he hit upon a

solution to provide enough committee rooms to

save the rotunda. The center section would take

advantage of the sloping hill on which it was to

be built, rising four stories on the west while

remaining three stories on the east. A new ground

floor in the western projection could provide

twelve committee rooms and offices. By reducing

the size of light wells, corridors, and the rooms

themselves, he was able to increase the number

of rooms in that part of the center building from

the twenty-four shown in Latrobe’s plan to forty.

They could also be fitted into a smaller and less

expensive structure.

To facilitate a fair comparison, Bulfinch drew a

plan showing his ideas along with a copy of

Latrobe’s plan. Solomon Willard of Boston was

employed to build a scale model of the building

with exchangeable parts illustrating the differences between the two plans. Both the drawings

and model would assist the president and committees of Congress in making a decision. Yet one

design problem still preyed on Bulfinch’s mind.

Although it would be seen only from the west, the

additional story was sunk below the ground level of

the wings, resulting in an odd composition. It would

not be strange to see a four-story building flanked

by lower three-story wings, but in Bulfinch’s design

the wings were not lower than the center building,

and the oddity might subject him and the Capitol

to criticism. To make the extra floor less obvious,

Bulfinch planned to face it with granite from

Boston, thus leaving the line of brownish freestone

unbroken.45 Writing with news of his plan, he asked

Trumbull to recall a similar situation that might be

cited as a precedent.46 The artist was delighted

with the idea and assured Bulfinch that the benefits

to be gained from this plan were worth enduring a

minor architectural idiosyncracy:

It appears to me, that you have extricated

yourself most happily from the multitude of
136 History of the United States Capitol

Ground plan of the Capitol

of the United States 

showing the Projection and

division of the Center

according to the Plan

approved by the President

and in part erected 

by Charles Bulfinch, ca. 1818 

Library of Congress

With an extra floor at the 

basement level, Bulfinch’s west center

building accommodated forty committee rooms and the Library of Congress,

yet projected thirty-five feet less than

Latrobe’s plan.

Copy of Ground plan of the

Capitol showing the

Projection and division of

the Center according to the

plan of Mr. Latrobe 

by Charles Bulfinch, ca. 1818

Library of Congress

In Latrobe’s preliminary plan, the

west center building projected 106 feet

beyond the face of the wings and

accommodated twenty-four committee

rooms and the Library of Congress. 
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 137

contradictory projects with which you were

surrounded. The granite basement is, I presume, original; I cannot recollect any example

of the kind, nor do I find any among a collection of views of country seats in England,

which I have . . . the necessity of the case

justifies the novelty; and nothing can be easier

than to disguise it by what the English call

planting it out, that is, screening it from distant view by shrubs.47

By the end of March 1818, Bulfinch’s plan for

the center building had been approved, and the

initial funding of $100,000 was given on April 20.

During the building season most workmen were

employed on the two wings, but those who could

be spared began removing the old center foundations left from the 1790s. Much of the hill was cut

away to prepare the site for the western projection

and its new foundations. On the fourth anniversary

of the burning of the Capitol, August 24, 1818, the

cornerstone of the center building was laid.

Although the ceremony was conducted without a

fanfare, the symbolism of the event was

inescapable. The National Intelligencer reported:

The cornerstone of the Capitol of the United

States was laid at 12 o’clock on Monday last,

the 24th inst. in the presence of the Commissioner of the Public Buildings, and the Architect of the Capitol; after which the workmen

and labors employed about the building partook of refreshments, provided by direction of

the Commissioner.

This ceremony took place, it will be recollected,

on the anniversary of that day, on which a barbarous enemy here made war upon the arts,

upon literature, and upon civilized laws, and

hoped to perpetuate his infamous exploit, by

laying in a heap of irreparable ruins the edifices

raised by taste and genius to the peaceful purposes of legislation and the promotion of human

knowledge and happiness.48

At the end of the 1818 building season, Bulfinch

reported that the foundations of the basement story

had been laid, the cellar walls under the crypt

(sometimes called the “lower rotunda”) were ready

for the arches to carry its floor, and walls and partitions of the lower story were begun.49 By the end of

September of the next year, the walls were up to

the level of the principal floor, and there was enough

sandstone on hand to reach the eaves. Blue stone

was bought to back the “angles” of the rotunda and

two million bricks were ordered for walls and

arches. When not building centers, carpenters spent

the winter making doors, shutters, and window sash

that would be installed later.50

A back View 

of the Capitol

by P. Price, 1827

Although drawn

after the center building

was completed, this view

shows a pediment over

the west portico—a feature that never existed.

Yet the drawing accurately illustrates the architectural dilemma facing

Bulfinch when he

designed a four-story 

center building between

three-story wings. The

extra story at the bottom

of the center building 

was both peculiar and

unprecedented. The problem was solved by building a terrace, which gave

the Capitol a uniform

ground line when viewed

from the Mall. 
138 History of the United States Capitol

Plan of the First Floor, Center Building 

by Charles Bulfinch, ca. 1818 

Library of Congress

In this preliminary plan, Bulfinch indicated four staircases in the crypt leading to

the rotunda above. These were suggested by John Trumbull as one way to protect his

Revolutionary War paintings, which would hang out of reach above the stairwells.

While the stair idea was never carried out, the crypt’s forty columns were erected as

indicated. The committee rooms, passages, and stairs west of the crypt were also 

constructed as shown.

The Crypt

Except for modern

lighting fixtures and 

display cases, the crypt

remains today as

Bulfinch built it. Forty

sturdy columns help 

support the floor of 

the rotunda above. 

(1981 photograph.)

Ionic Order

by Charles Bulfinch, ca.1822

Bulfinch’s manipulation of interior ornamentation

tended to be more delicate and decorative than

Latrobe’s bold but simple trim. Evidence of this taste

may be seen in the woodwork and stone carving done

under Bulfinch’s supervision. Traces of white paint

removed in the early twentieth century are visible in

this view of a Bulfinch capital. (1964 photograph.)
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 139

Western Staircase

Latrobe’s staircases were often criticized for being 

hard to find, poorly lighted, and steep— shortcomings 

Bulfinch studiously avoided in his designs. Placed on 

axis with the principal western doorway, this stair 

leads directly to the rotunda entrance.

In 1900 the original sandstone treads 

were replaced with marble and the iron 

railing was replaced with a bronze 

replica. At the same time the black 

and white marble floor was laid 

using refuse tile from the 

dismantled Library of 

Congress located on the 

floor above. (ca. 1960 

photograph.)
140 History of the United States Capitol

CONGRESS RETURNS

TO THE CAPITOL

The first session of the 16th Congress

convened on December 6, 1819, in

the restored wings of the Capitol.

While veteran members were delighted to be out

of the spare quarters in the Brick Capitol and back

in their magnificent chambers across the street,

they were greeted with the distressing news that

the appropriation had been overspent. In the rush

to complete the wings, Lane was obliged to tap

funds specified for other purposes, but he still did

not have enough money to cover expenses. The

story was remarkably similar to Latrobe’s push in

1807 to seat the House in its new chamber, during

which time he incurred both debt and Jefferson’s

anger. Yet unlike Latrobe, Lane presented his

dilemma to the president, who approved a scheme

to borrow funds from a local bank to assure completion of the work. The loan brought in $50,000

and juggling accounts provided another $49,100.51

All totaled, there was a $75,000 deficit to report to

Congress. On December 15, 1819, Bulfinch wrote

an account of money spent on the Capitol not covered in earlier estimates. The marble for the Senate gallery, for instance, had been estimated to

cost $15,000 but had exceeded that sum by $6,375.

Glass cost $5,300 more than expected, and mantels from Italy were $600 over budget, but the

largest unforseen overrun was for Potomac marble. It was first estimated at $28,000 but had in

fact cost more than $58,000 for the year.

Another unexpected expense was the three

thousand dollars spent to paint the outside walls

in 1819. The Aquia Creek sandstone was found to

be susceptible to cracking and spallation due to

the action of rain and frost, and paint was the only

coating that could protect it. Every workman who

handled the stone knew it was unpredictable and

liable to fall apart without warning; a few of its

more annoying characteristics were described in

an extensive account of the stone that Latrobe

had written years earlier:

The Quality of the stone is also in other respects

various. Of the stone more even in its grain &

texture, most pleasant to work and of the most

durable appearance, great part cracks and falls

to pieces on exposure to the air & sun. Sometimes contrary to all expectations & appearance the frost tears it to pieces. All of it expands

when wet, and contracts when dry. This property it seems never to lose though buried ever

so long in the Walls of a building, unless, as at

the Capitol it is contracted by the excessive

weight of the incumbent mass. But in any part

of a work in which it lies at liberty at one or both

ends, the joints regularly open in dry & close in

wet weather. Window and door sills therefore

which are confined at both ends & are open in

the Middle, generally break and the fissure

opens and shuts with the dryness or moisture of

the weather, to the amount of the 10th of an

inch in six feet.52

Paint could protect the stone from the

weather, or so Bulfinch thought, and would cover

blemishes that disfigured many blocks of Aquia

sandstone. Ever since the first stones were delivered in 1795, careful attention had been paid to

color and quality. Stones with imperfections such

as rust-colored streaks would not be used on the

exterior but would be buried in walls or sent to

the President’s House, where the exterior was

whitewashed. Latrobe spent the early days of his

second campaign at the Capitol supervising the

cleaning of the exterior stone that was scarred by

smoke and flames from the fire. Bulfinch’s decision

to try preserving the walls of the wings with a coat

of paint meant that blemished freestone could

now be used because paint would hide cosmetic

defects. Stone used for the center building would

not need to conform to the high standards previously held for Capitol stonework, and with less of

it subject to rejection, the work on the center

building would be accelerated.

Money borrowed to buy marble, glass, mantels,

and paint needed to be repaid. For an hour, the

House debated the deficit, focusing not so much on

whether it should be covered as on the circumstances under which it was incurred. John Randolph attacked the president for running up debt

without the constitutional power “to pledge Congress to make good sums which he should raise

and expend, without the authority of law.” 53 He

had made much the same argument against the

deficit incurred in 1807 and now was joined by a

fellow Virginian, James Johnson, in condemning

this one. A half-dozen members spoke favorably of

the doctrine espoused by Randolph but supported

the president, who was following the congressional

mandate to finish the wings. Monroe had only done

his duty. On a voice vote, the funds necessary to
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 141

cover the deficit were appropriated on January 24,

1820. It passed the Senate and was approved by

the president a few days later.54

Also in 1820 a small appropriation was made

to paint the inside of the wings and a large sum

was given to continue construction of the center

building. The next season’s work included setting

stone for the walls of the western projection,

beginning the eastern walls, and raising the

columns in the crypt. Six hundred tons of sandstone was needed for building the rotunda the

next year. Also needed were two million bricks

and roofing materials. Corinthian capitals for outside columns and pilasters were to be carved. In

all, Bulfinch estimated that $111,769 worth of work

would be performed on the center building, and on

April 11, 1820, Congress granted the amount

requested.55 Despite the deficit, there was little

unhappiness in Congress with the management of

the works at the Capitol.

After sitting in its new hall a few months, however, the House of Representatives became

painfully aware of the room’s singular defect. Like

the old hall, this one suffered from dreadful

acoustics. In very short order the chamber was

found to be a terrible room for debate, a room in

which a voice might be inaudible to members

seated nearby and a reverberating babble to those

farther away. The smooth, arched ceiling was the

culprit, acting as a sounding board that redirected

voices with bewildering effects. On April 12, 1820,

the chairman of the Committee on Public Buildings, Thomas W. Cobb of Georgia, wrote Lane to

ask for a solution. This was the first of many such

requests that would follow over the next thirty

years as successive Congresses grappled with a

problem that was not well understood. Lane asked

Bulfinch to consider how the acoustics could be

improved, and he asked James Hoban the same

question. Dr. Thornton was also asked to give his

View of the Capitol

Looking Southeast

by Michael Esperance

de Hersant, ca. 1819

Private Collection, 

Reproduced by permission

Views of the center

building under construction are scarce. This

sketch shows the Capitol

when only the lower two

floors of the western projection were completed.

A cluster of workmen’s

houses may be seen in 

the foreground.
142 History of the United States Capitol

opinions on the subject, which came in a long letter.56 In his epistle Thornton recited the acoustical

virtues of an elliptical hall, following it with a

scathing history of the first chamber. He blamed

Latrobe for altering the ellipse into semicircles

that reverberated sound. Thornton then claimed

that he came up with the idea for muffling echoes

with curtains and thus solved the problem in the

former hall. “I hoped the first member of Congress

that should rise,” he wrote bitterly, “would give a

curtain lecture to the presumptuous & innovating

architect.” The second hall, in which Congress

now sat, had identical problems: “The same Errors

have been repeated & we still find nothing but segments of circles.” His solution this time was covering the gallery fronts with woolen cloth dipped in

arsenic to protect it from moths. If echoes persisted, he suggested another covering of lethal

wool for the ceiling.

Having addressed the main subject of Lane’s

inquiry, Thornton then attacked Bulfinch for 

Night Session in the House

by Samuel F. B. Morse, 1822 

The Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington, D. C. 

Museum Purchase, Gallery Fund

No painting of a Capitol interior surpasses Morse’s depiction of the House of

Representatives preparing for an evening session. The chamber glows under oil 

lamps being lighted by the clerk and his assistants while members gather beneath the 

great wooden dome. Then as now, the sweeping colonnade was the room’s most 

distinguished feature.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 143

following Latrobe’s alterations of the Capitol’s original design. The spacing of the columns along the

south side of the House chamber was, in Thornton’s opinion, “sickening,” but he thought the colonnade could be taken down and re-erected without

disturbing the entablature. He did not suggest how

this could be accomplished but admitted that it

would require “great care.” (Apparently, Thornton

did not recognize that the interior intercolumniation mirrored that on the exterior and was governed by it.) The center building would be

“universally condemned,” Thornton warned, unless

the circular conference room was built and the

subbasement abandoned. Every departure from

the old design was condemned with Thornton’s

gifts of sarcasm and exaggeration. The monitor on

the roof feeding light and air to skylights above the

Senate chamber was “borrowed from some carpenter’s shop, for there never was so mean a window

exhibited before in any public building on the face

of the globe.” The dwarf columns and the upper

gallery in the Senate were “perfectly fantastic,”

reminding Thornton of the platform at London’s

Newgate prison “where the convicts are executed

wholesale, for never were such galleries seen in

any building of dignity and national grandeur.”

Access to the Senate galleries was likened to an

Italian mule path. On the exterior, the Capitol’s

three domes would strike the eye of a “chaste

architect” as ridiculous, and would recall “the oldfashioned Tea Canisters, Bohea at one end, Green

Tea at the other, and in the center the large sugar

dish.” Thornton’s letter made it clear that his bitterness had not been soothed by time, and his pretensions to architectural authority were as

delusional as ever.

Bulfinch proposed three ways to cure the hall

of its acoustical ailment: raising the floor, building a

glass partition behind the last row of desks, or

installing a flat ceiling.57 Building up the floor promised to be the least effective because, as Bulfinch

noted, the confusion of sounds was the fault of the

high, smooth ceiling. The glass partition would also

do little good unless it was built so high that it

would prevent visitors in the gallery from hearing

the proceedings. On the other hand, a new flat ceiling would reduce the room’s height by twenty feet

and would check much of the reverberation and

echo. To avoid obstructing the beautiful dome, and

permit the lantern still to light the room, Bulfinch

proposed making the ceiling of glass held in a gilded

framework. The glass ceiling would cost $5,000.

Study for 

Night Session in

the House 

by Samuel F. B. Morse

ca. 1822 

National Museum 

of American Art,

Smithsonian Institution,

Museum Purchase through 

a grant from the Morris 

and Gwendolyn 

Cafritz Foundation
144 History of the United States Capitol

Some members looked to the center building

as a place to build an entirely new hall of the House.

They asked if that was a good idea and Bulfinch

replied that it was not. The library, at ninety-two

feet long and thirty-four feet wide, was the largest

room in the center building yet was still too small

for the House. It was even smaller than the House

chamber in the Brick Capitol (which measured

eighty by forty-six feet) and could not be arranged

nearly as well for desks and chairs. Galleries could

be only installed at the ends of the room, and they

would be small and inconvenient. And although the

walls were almost finished it would take another

two years for the room to be ready for use. Bulfinch

thought members were becoming accustomed to

the chamber and that once they knew the pitch of

voice necessary to be heard, many objections to it

would be removed. He recommended that members address the House from selected stations

instead of from their desks and noted that when

the room was used for religious services the

preacher was clearly understood in every part of

the hall. Admittedly, this was perhaps due to the

solemnity of a worship service.

On January 19, 1821, Congressman Silas Wood

of New York, chairman of the Committee on Public

Buildings, issued a report on the various proposals

to defeat echoes in the chamber. The glass ceiling

was thought to be the best solution, but it would

greatly injure the beauty of the room. The committee found that it was easier to be heard now than

formerly because, it believed, the walls were dryer.

As the room became more and more dry, they were

sure, the acoustics would continue to improve. The

only action recommended was carpeting the galleries to muffle the sounds there.58

Wood’s committee also made a second report,

this one looking into the wisdom of decreasing the

annual appropriation for construction of the center

building.59 The economic depression following the

Panic of 1819 gripped the country and put heavy

strains on the treasury. Some in Congress thought

curtailing construction was an appropriate

response to the country’s financial difficulties. The

committee, however, found that depressed prices

of materials and labor meant savings, while diminishing the building funds would only mean slower

progress, and they did not believe funds should be

reduced until the walls were finished and the center building put under roof. Wood’s report recommended an appropriation of $80,000 for the 1821

building season to supplement $26,000 unexpended from previous years. When the appropriation passed, it also directed that all unexpended

balances left over from any other public building

be applied to the completion of the Capitol’s center

building. President Monroe approved the appropriation on March 2, 1821.

At the time of the appropriation, 126 men were

at work on the center building. Eight were carving

blocks of sandstone for the entablature and

Corinthian capitals; forty were cutting stone for

the walls and drums that would make up the column shafts for the western portico; twenty- one

carpenters were making doors, window sash, and

frames; and fifty-seven laborers worked at a variety

of backbreaking tasks such as hauling and hoisting

stone. In April masons began laying brick and stone

and in July coppersmiths began covering the roof.

At the height of the building season, nearly 230

hands were at work, a number that dropped to

eighty-one by December. Illness among the workmen prevented the western projection from being

finished in 1821, but the goal was not missed by

much. Walls were finished and the roof covered

except for a small portion over the library. Although

chimneys were unfinished and some ornamental

carving was needed, when viewed from the west

the Capitol appeared virtually complete. From the

east, however, it was far from finished. The walls of

the rotunda, both interior and exterior, were up

but there were no signs yet of either the dome or

the eastern portico.

THE BULFINCH DOME

The Capitol’s crowning dome was one

of Bulfinch’s most difficult and important designs. On his initial visit with

Dr. Thornton, he was shown the original elevation

approved by George Washington, who was particularly fond of its low, graceful dome. The president

may have been reminded of engraved views of the

Pantheon in Rome and was pleased by the associations with the world of ancient Roman virtue and

greatness, but he could not have compared it with

anything he had ever seen in person. In 1793 the

only domes in the United States were drawings on
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 145

paper. Indeed, Bulfinch himself constructed the

first dome in the country at the Massachusetts

Statehouse, which he designed in 1787. Washington probably had seen small, dome-like roofs on

garden pavilions but it is more likely that he never

saw a classical dome except in illustrated form.

Thornton’s elevation of the Capitol showed a

dome rising on a platform of six steps in front of a

central portico. The first revision to this design was

undertaken by Latrobe during the Jefferson administration to solve a fundamental problem. Unless

the dome was raised on a drum, the platform would

rise awkwardly from the gable of the pediment,

creating a disturbing juxtaposition of intersecting,

incompatible shapes. Adding a drum gave the pediment a place to stop and the dome a place to begin.

Latrobe’s drawings from this period showed variations on this solution, including an octagonal drum

with sculptural panels. All of Latrobe’s drawings

showed that he intended to preserve the idea of a

low, neoclassical dome.

Bulfinch’s studies for the dome illustrate a preference for a drum with panels but without sculpture (unless he simply chose not to draw

sculpture). He may have preferred a higher dome

than either Thornton or Latrobe or may have drawn

higher domes in response to outside suggestions.

Certainly events forced him to build one higher

than his taste or judgment would have otherwise

allowed. In 1842, long retired from public life,

Bulfinch wrote an account of the political process

twenty years earlier that led to a tall dome, one

that was frequently ridiculed. Defending his good

name, Bulfinch wished to set the record straight

for the sake of his family:

Upon my taking charge of the Capitol, I found a

number of drawings of the manner in which it

was intended to finish it, but it was very difficult

to give the Building Committee [Swift and Bomford] any clear ideas upon the subject, and

absolutely impossible to convey the same to

the more numerous body of the members of

Congress. I accordingly proposed to have a

model made to show the building in its completed state. This was made and inspected by

the President and all the members of Congress

and I believe had a favorable effect in convincing them that I understood what work I had 

to do, and that there was some prospect of 

the building being finished. But there was one 

universal remark, that the Dome was too low,

perhaps from a vague idea that there was something bold and picturesque in a lofty dome. As

the work proceeded I prepared drawings for

domes of different elevations, and, by way of

comparison, one of a greater height than the

one I should have preferred: they were laid

before the Cabinet, and the loftiest one

selected, even a wish expressed that it might

be raised higher in a Gothic form, but this was

too inconsistent with the style of the building

to be at all thought of by me.60

Like Latrobe before him, Bulfinch found his

professional judgment overruled by those in charge

Dome Studies 

by Charles Bulfinch 

ca. 1822

Library of Congress

These drawings 

illustrate Bulfinch’s 

early thoughts about the

height and profile of the

Capitol’s dome. President

Monroe and his cabinet,

however, wanted it 

built higher.
146 History of the United States Capitol

for reasons at odds with his taste and experience.

Unlike his predecessor, however, Bulfinch bore the

command in silence. He knew the decision was

irrevocable and to avoid unpleasantness he yielded

the point. The disparaging remarks made about the

height of the dome were of little consequence to

Bulfinch, who wrote philosophically: “Architects

expect criticism and must learn to bear it patiently.”

In making his funding request for the 1822

building season, Bulfinch submitted a “Comparative view of the expense of a Dome of Brick and

of Stone.” 61 A brick dome required considerable

carpentry for the centering, 600,000 bricks, and

180 tons of stone for a bond course. Copper, painting, and plastering brought the total estimated

cost of a brick dome to $25,000. For a stone dome,

$20,000 would be needed to purchase freestone

and another $35,700 to cut, shape, and install it.

Copper and paint brought the estimated cost of

the stone dome to a little more than $60,000. By

way of comparison, Bulfinch appended an estimate of almost $20,000 for a wooden dome, which

made the cost of a fireproof brick dome seem all

the more reasonable. He preferred a brick dome

and included it in his request for 1822.

It appears that none of the estimates Bulfinch

presented to Congress anticipated building a double dome. The figures given for the two masonry

structures included an amount for an exterior covering of copper ($4,500 in both cases), but there

was no mention of a separate roof structure for an

outer dome. Soon after the estimates were given,

the call for a high dome forced the architect to

design a double dome—one over the rotunda and

another to be seen from the outside. The interior

dome would rise ninety-six feet above the floor and

cover a room ninety-six feet in diameter. Thus, the

rotunda would imitate the classical proportions of

the Pantheon in Rome, the interior of which is also

as high as it is wide. But for the exterior, Bulfinch

devised a separate wooden structure rising 140

feet above the ground (seventy feet above the top

of the building), giving the Capitol the visibility

that politicians wanted.

On May 1, 1822, the president approved an

appropriation of $120,000 for the center building.

During the building season, the outside of the western projection was finished, its walls painted, sashes

installed, and the copper roof completed. Inside,

most of the plaster had been troweled and carpentry was greatly advanced. Most of the season’s

efforts were directed at building the dome. The

sandstone walls of the rotunda were completed

soon after the appropriation passed and the interior

dome was finished before the close of the year’s

work. Rough boards served as temporary flooring

until the paving stone was set the following year.

About two-thirds of the inner dome was constructed

of stone and brick, while the upper third was wood.

At the crown, an oculus twenty-four feet in diameter provided the room with light. The outside dome

was also finished except for the copper covering,

which would be installed the next year. Upon seeing the outer dome framed and sheathed, Bulfinch

realized that his fears regarding the aesthetics of its

height and profile were fully justified. He mentioned

to the commissioner that lowering the dome now

would also lower the cost of copper, but he was

rebuffed. In the past, arguments of economy had

usually prevailed, but in the case of the Capitol’s

dome, nothing could persuade the authorities to

abandon its disproportionately tall profile.

In this case the intransigent commissioner was

not Samuel Lane, who died in the spring of 1822,

but his successor, Joseph Elgar, who had been a

clerk in Lane’s office. President Monroe appointed

Elgar on May 8, 1822, after Congress rejected a

proposal to blend the commissioner’s office with

that of the “principal Architect.” A committee of

Section of the

Rotunda and Dome

As Completed by

Bulfinch

Conjectural

Reconstruction, 1989

The Capitol’s outer

dome rose 140 feet above

the ground while the

interior retained the

pleasing proportions of

the Pantheon. The rotunda was made ninety-six

feet high to match its

diameter exactly.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 147

the House had been appointed to study the matter

and reported its findings on April 8, 1822. The

report traced the history of the commissioner’s

office back to the Residence Act of 1790 and

through its various incarnations as a one-person

post and a three-man board. Among the duties of

the position were selecting workmen (including

the architect), determining their pay, inspecting

plans, and superintending the work. Like positions

for carpenters or bricklayers, that of architect was

created out of a temporary necessity. When the

buildings were completed, the commissioner would

dispense with the architect. The committee therefore recommended that the offices continue separate and distinct but recommended the salary of

the commissioner be reduced by $500 a year

because his duties were “less arduous than they

formerly were.” 62

The economic strains brought on by the Panic

of 1819 were still being felt three years later. Elgar

was not the only government officer to see his

salary cut as a general reduction of pay was

ordered throughout the bureaucracy to take effect

at the end of 1822. On September 30, Elgar

informed Bulfinch that his salary would be reduced

$500 a year. Bulfinch immediately appealed the

matter to the attorney general, who claimed to be

too busy to decide the case right away. Falling

back on his Massachusetts connections, Bulfinch

asked Secretary of State John Quincy Adams to

intervene. The architect considered his relationship to the government as a matter ruled by an

implied contract that could not be altered unless

both parties agreed to a change. He reminded

Adams that his pay was less than the states of Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina allowed

their civil engineers and much less than the salary

given the head engineer at the Susquehanna and

Schuylkill canal. Family obligations made it impossible to accept a reduction in income. His style of

living was “prudent” and a reduction in pay would

be “irksome and humiliating.” 63

In a few days Monroe asked the attorney general to spare five minutes to consider “whether the

invitation to him to come here at a given salary

formed a contract not to be altered.” 64 William Wirt

upheld Bulfinch’s view of his contractual relationship with the government and stated that it was

“unalterable by the mere will of either party.” 65 His

salary could not be and was not reduced.

On March 3, 1823, the last day of the 17th Congress, the president approved an appropriation of

$100,000 for the center building.66 During the building season, much of the interior was finished and

only a few details remained incomplete by year’s

end. On April 26 Elgar ordered four blocks of marble fourteen feet long and twenty inches square

from Thomas and Joseph Symington of Baltimore

for the columns needed in the Library of Congress.

Bulfinch designed the columns after the Tower of

the Winds. Each capital took about forty days to

carve and all were finished by the first week in September. The commissioner allowed eighty dollars

each for three capitals, but one carved by a Mr.

Joyce was not as good and his compensation was

docked ten dollars.67 The library was designed to

hold 40,000 books arranged in deep alcoves on the

main level and in shallow alcoves reached by means

of a narrow balcony. A gracefully arched ceiling

was laid out in panels with plaster decorations,

with three circular skylights to supplement light

and air received through four arched windows.

Copper was installed over the wooden sheathing covering the outside dome and most of the stone

pavers (but not all) were laid on the rotunda floor.

Except for those on the third floor, the committee

rooms and offices in the western projection were

finished. The clerk of the House of Representatives

moved into his suite on the second floor in midOctober. Alterations in the House chamber

increased seating capacity from 192 to 216. More

floor space was gained by removing two stone platforms extending from the south colonnade, and

some single desks were joined to accommodate two

members. The alterations were necessary to accommodate an increase in the membership of the House

following the 1820 census.

THE EAST PORTICO

P erhaps the most visible sign of

progress made in 1823 was the start

of the grand portico on the east front.

Left to the last, the portico would bring the outside

of the Capitol to a fitting conclusion after so many

years of fitful construction. Like that of the dome,

the design of the portico was derived from Thornton’s original elevation as modified by Latrobe and
148 History of the United States Capitol

West Portico 

Detail of a ca. 1890 photograph

From 1824 until 1897 the Library of Congress was located behind the west 

portico. The sculpted panels at the third-floor level were converted into windows in

1900, when the library space was rebuilt into offices and committee rooms.

With four sets of coupled columns and the absence of a pediment, Bulfinch’s

design of the Capitol’s west portico recalled his design for the Massachusetts

Statehouse portico. Neither shelters a major entrance, but they both provide

pleasant vantage points for admiring city and water views.

The Capitol’s west portico appears to be an example of post and lintel construction, yet the columns actually support brick arches. Five arches spring from iron

beams held by the columns and their corresponding pilasters. (The entablature and

the portico’s plaster ceiling screen the arcade from view.) Although somewhat deceiving, this mode of construction was simple, economical, sturdy, and fireproof. It was

also the earliest use of iron beams in the Capitol’s construction history. 

Stoves in the Library at Washington

by Charles Bulfinch, ca. 1824

Library of Congress

An urn and the partial column shaft on which it

stands were classical images Bulfinch employed in this

design for an iron stove. By using stoves, the Library of

Congress was warmed without open fires. Despite this

precaution, the room was damaged by fire in 1826 and

completely burned out in 1851.

View, Congress Library 

Capitol, Washington

by Alexander Jackson Davis and 

Stephen H. Gimber, 1832 

I. N. Phelps Stokes Collections, Mirian and Ira D. Wallach

Division of Art, Prints and Photographs, The New York Public

Library, Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Foundations

Bulfinch’s most elegant and popular interior design

was the reading room of the Library of Congress, finished

in 1824. Comfortably furnished with sofas, chairs, and

writing tables, the library was a favorite place to read,

write, admire works of art, or enjoy the view.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 149
150 History of the United States Capitol

Bulfinch. Thornton’s design for the east portico

consisted of eight columns thirty feet tall standing

on pedestals and a one-story arcade. The side elevations would each show two additional columns,

bringing the total number to twelve. A rich entablature and a broad pediment with sculptural decoration completed the composition. To this basic

design Latrobe added a monumental flight of stairs

to land visitors on the principal level of the building. He increased the depth of the portico and

extended it with colonnades to the corner of each

wing. Attached to the corner of the north wing,

Latrobe planned a square column to help buttress

the interior vaulting. Considerations of symmetry

demanded a similar (yet unnecessary) treatment

at the south end of the portico. In addition to the

two attached columns, Latrobe’s portico design

called for twenty-four conventional columns, twice

as many as Thornton’s scheme.

Aside from structural considerations, the alteration improved the use of the portico and the

appearance of the building. Adding a flight of stairs

allowed the portico to become the grand entrance

instead of a balcony. The colonnades extended the

portico over the recesses and helped unify the

parts into a better defined unit. Instead of a fivepart composition, the east front with Latrobe’s portico appeared as one large building with a dominant

central feature, trading a “staccato effect” for “an

effect of crescendo.” 68 The fact that the columns of

the flanking colonnades could not line up with the

existing pilasters of the recesses was a small

sacrifice to the greater good offered by Latrobe’s

design for the east portico.

In 1806 Latrobe wrote that his portico design

was taken—at Jefferson’s suggestion—from Diocletian’s portico that was illustrated in a drawing

hanging in the President’s House.69 Because the

view has been lost, it is uncertain where it came

from or what it showed. There has been speculation that the mysterious portico may have actually

been the Temple of the Signa illustrated in Robert

Wood’s The Ruins of Palmyra, published in London in 1753.70 That elevation shows a portico with

a pediment flanked by colonnades—features similar to the Capitol’s portico. Although the attribution has been challenged, this drawing may have

inspired Latrobe’s design and given it the authority

from antiquity that Jefferson found reassuring.71

Initially Bulfinch seemed to prefer Thornton’s

original portico design. But by the time work was

begun in 1823, the simpler scheme had given way

to Latrobe’s grand design. The decision to build

Latrobe’s portico may have been made for the

sake of grandeur or for structural reasons, but it

was clearly made without considering cost. In

another decision that defied economy, Commissioner Elgar directed that all column shafts were

to be wrought from single blocks of stone instead

of built up with drums, as was done with the west

portico. Monolithic shafts would indeed contribute

to the impression of perfection and grandeur, but

their use was opposed for practical reasons by

George Blagden, the venerable head of the stone

cutting department.72 In the fall Elgar and 

Blagden visited the quarries at Aquia, where they

met Thomas Towson of Baltimore, who had been

hired by the commissioner to quarry the shafts.

(Towson had been one of the impartial judges

who determined the value of the Potomac marble

five years earlier.) There Towson convinced 

Elgar that he could extract blocks of sandstone

large enough to supply the column shafts. 

While Blagden remained doubtful, Elgar ordered

Towson to proceed.

In November Towson informed the commissioner that he had extracted the first shaft from

the quarry.73 The second and third quickly followed

but remained on the island throughout the winter

months. A fourth shaft was quarried in March

1824. Once navigation opened on the Potomac the

shafts were transported by scow to Washington.

The firm of Waller & Morton was paid two dollars a

ton for freight.

As each block arrived in Washington, Blagden carefully inspected it. He found cracks and

flaws in some stones and declared them unfit. He

made no apologies for the anxiety he felt regarding the monoliths:

I cannot divest myself of fear as respects the

strength and durability of these stones and

though I might feel much gratification and perhaps some pride as a workman in seeing to,

and executing these shafts in one stone, yet to

have a dread as to their Capacity which I do

feel . . . it absorbs all other feelings and makes

me feel miserable.74
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 151

Elgar wrote the quarry with hopes that future

deliveries would prove acceptable. Otherwise, his

expectations would be disappointed:

If then there is not an absolute certainty of the

Quarry having so far improved as to furnish

shafts which cannot be objected to, the undertaking must be abandoned, and the columns be

procured as heretofore. . . . Pray let me hear

from you the moment you have matured your

opinion upon this distressing subject.75

Towson insisted that the quarry could supply

monoliths, but Blagden suffered fearful doubts. To

resolve these conflicting opinions, Elgar asked

Colonel William Stewart to go with Blagden to the

quarry and decide the question. (Stewart had been

Towson’s fellow judge in the 1818 Potomac marble

case.) On July 27, 1824, Stewart reported that he

considered the stone of sufficient quality and quantity to supply each shaft in one block. He warned

the commissioner, however, not to expect more

than eighteen before the close of the season in

November. In the middle of September Elgar heard

that no more shafts could be expected for a month

and he wrote Towson that this would “derange all

calculations.” 76 Thirteen shafts were delivered in

1824. They cost $296 apiece.

The rough column shafts for the east portico

were delivered from the quarry to the Navy Yard

on the Anacostia River. There they were unloaded

and hauled by hand to Blagden’s shop at the Capitol, where men transformed them into smooth,

round shafts. According to an eyewitness account,

The Capitol At Washington

by C. A. Busby, 1823

Busby, an English architect, visited the Capitol in 1819, took measurements of

the wings, and conferred with Bulfinch about plans for the center building. As seen

here, Bulfinch considered returning to Thornton’s original portico design, one without a grand stair or flanking colonnades. It also shows third-floor windows under the

portico, possibly intended to light a picture gallery that was never built.

Model of the Capitol with Portico 

and Dome Designs by Latrobe

In studies for completing the Capitol, Latrobe expanded the original portico

design by adding flanking colonnades and a grand flight of steps. He also raised 

the dome upon a drum. When the dome was constructed by Bulfinch it was unlike

the one shown here, but he built the portico according to his predecessor’s design.

(1994 photograph.) 
152 History of the United States Capitol

the appearance of these stones at the wharf was

cause for much excitement and merriment:

They are taken from the wharf, without the aid

of horses, upon a strong carriage, with a hundred

men pulling. Sometimes the members of Congress will turn out in the evening to assist ‘the big

wagon’ and join in all the pleasantry to which the

novelty gives rise. When the column arrives at

the Capitol, it is cheered by loud huzzas . . .

[among the workmen] there are perhaps not half

a dozen sober men. They drink scute (as they

call whiskey) on the job. When the day’s work is

ended, they hie to the grog shops and taverns to

spend their earnings.77

Liquor was occasionally given workmen at the

Capitol to mark special milestones or as an incentive

to stay on the job in blistering weather. For example,

sixteen and a half gallons of whiskey were “furnished

the hands while handling the columns” on May 27,

1825.78 A more extensive fete was provided by the

commissioner as the columns were being put into

place: on September 1, 1825, Robert Isherwood was

paid “for treats furnished the hands while employed

hauling and raising the columns.” Three barrels of

crackers and thirty-two wheels of cheese were

washed down with twenty-six gallons of whiskey,

one barrel of beer, and one gallon of brandy.79

While the shafts were being prepared, stone

carvers working in Giovanni Andrei’s shop produced the elaborate Corinthian capitals that were

the most distinctive part of the columns. The

carvers were guided by a full-scale model sculpted

by Andrei in plaster of Paris. It was undoubtedly

the same model used to prepare the capitals for

the west front portico. While the rage for Grecian

architecture was sweeping the country and most of

the Capitol’s interior columns were inspired by the

antiquities of Athens, Andrei’s model for the exterior column capitals was necessarily made to match

the Roman Corinthian order shown in Dr. Thornton’s design and already used for the exterior

pilasters. Thornton found the order for the Capitol’s columns and pilasters in Sir William Chambers’ Treatise on The Decorative Part of Civil

Architecture (1791). In the Treatise, Chambers

illustrated only one example of the Corinthian

order, which was derived from the remains of the

Temple of Jupiter Stator and blended with the interior order of the Pantheon. The hybrid was “uncommonly beautiful,” Chambers assured his readers,

having “all the perfections of [the] originals . . . far

preferable to either of them.” 80 Chambers’ authority in the matter of Roman architecture was

unquestioned and appealed especially to amateurs

such as Dr. Thornton, who called the Treatise an

“inestimable” work.81 But by the time Andrei and

his men translated Chambers’ Corinthian order

from paper to stone, its Roman pedigree had

already rendered it somewhat old-fashioned.

It would take one carver about six months to

finish one Corinthian capital. In addition to their

daily wage, the commissioner allowed the workmen an extra $260 for each capital they completed.

Andrei’s shop produced stonework of a type and

quality rarely seen in American architecture and

there was a sense among the men that their job

was special. They were, after all, finishing the

United States Capitol. Their pride was publicly displayed during the Fourth of July celebration in

1824. The Washington Gazette told its readers:

We have this morning been informed that the

Stone Cutters at the Capitol are preparing an

appropriate and imposing spectacle . . . A Committee of their body has been appointed on

behalf of 60 or 70 others, who will march in the

procession and exhibit the operative part of

their employment in cutting a Corinthian capital, intended to crown one of the Eastern front

columns, and a keystone for one of the arches.

Suitable colors are preparing for the occasion.

We mention these facts to show the public spirit

likely to manifest itself on our approaching

National Anniversary.82

The stone carvers and cutters marched in the

parade just behind President Monroe and his cabinet with a capital mounted on a “movable stage.”

According to a later edition of the Gazette, they

gave a “fine specimen of their art.” 83

“ABILITY,

PROMPTITUDE, AND

FAITHFULNESS”

W ith an end of construction in sight,

the mood in Congress was unusually convivial when it took up the

appropriation for the 1824 building season. On

December 8, 1823, Elgar submitted his report on

the expenditures along with Bulfinch’s funding

request for the next year’s work and a similar
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 153

request from James Hoban, who was building the

south portico at the President’s House. In the

House of Representatives, the committee on public

buildings reported its reaction with a rare display

of official appreciation:

Upon a full survey of the subject, the Committee find reasons to be highly gratified with the

ability, promptitude, and faithfulness, displayed

by the Commissioner in the management of

the public interest committed to his trust. They

are also disposed to award due praise to the

Architects, not only for their assiduity and zeal

in prosecuting the work on the public edifices;

but also for the style of the workmanship—

uniting ornament with strength, and giving

solidity to grandeur.84

Bulfinch’s estimate included money to finish

the interior of the Capitol and to raise the columns

of the east portico. Funds were needed to pave the

rotunda, crypt, and passages; to carve and paint

stonework; to finish the main stair in the west center building; and to erect two back stairs. In all,

Bulfinch asked for $87,153. The committee noted

that the necessity of the work was too obvious to

require comment. On April 2, 1823, $86,000 was

appropriated for the center building and a month

later $3,289 was given to buy furniture.85 The small

difference in the sum appropriated and the sum

needed to finish the center building would be made

up from other sources such as the $593 raised by

selling surplus copper or the $13,000 due from the

estate of the late Samuel Lane.86

A week before the close of the first session of

the 18th Congress, a joint committee reported its

recommendations on the distribution of rooms in

the west central building among the House, Senate,

Supreme Court, and Library of Congress.87 Senator

Mahlon Dickerson of New Jersey and Congressman

John W. Taylor of New York reported that the center building contained thirty-seven rooms suitable

for committees. Two rooms near the Library of Congress were designated as reading rooms, one was

given to the Supreme Court as a consultation room,

and the large room under the library was given to

the Columbian Institute (forerunner of The George

Washington University). Otherwise, all rooms in the

basement, ground (first), and principal (second)

floors north of the center line would be used by the

Senate and all rooms south of it would fall under

the jurisdiction of the House of Representatives.

The House would also have use of all rooms on the

attic (third) floor. The commissioner was ordered

to dispose of the temporary frame building formerly

used by committees.

Work on the interior of the center building was,

as Bulfinch and Elgar promised, finished in 1824.

But on the outside, only thirteen columns were in

place on the portico. Progress had been hampered

by the slow delivery of sandstone from Aquia. But

even with the portico half finished there was enough

to show “the convenience which this addition to the

building will afford, and the effect which this principal feature of the Eastern front will produce.” 88

Except for painting the stone walls and undertaking some sculptural decorations, the rotunda

was complete and soon became one of the building’s great attractions. It was the largest room in

the Capitol, and at 7,000 square feet, one of the

largest rooms in America. Once called the “Grand

Vestibule” by Thornton and the “Hall of the People” by Latrobe, Bulfinch called this noble room

the “rotundo”:

In the rotundo, a bold simplicity has been studied, suitable to a great central entrance and

passage to more richly finished apartments.

This room is ninety-six feet in diameter, and of

the same height; its walls are divided into

twelve compartments, by stone pilasters, or

Grecian Antae; four of these compartments are

occupied by doors, and the others by panels to

receive paintings. The Antae supports a Grecian entablature, decorated with Isthmean

wreaths in the frieze, apparently in honor of

the subjects of national history to be exhibited

below. The concave of the dome is divided into

five ranges of large and deep caissons, finished

plainly; and a border of Grecian honeysuckle

surrounds the opening of the sky-light twentyfour feet in diameter, which gives light to the

whole rotundo.89

The principal difference between Bulfinch’s

design for the rotunda and that of his predecessor

was the absence of large niches, which were to be

nearly thirty feet high. Latrobe had planned the

monumental niches before Congress commissioned

Trumbull’s history paintings and then tried to

accommodate both in later studies for the room.

Bulfinch eliminated the niches altogether, providing shallow wall recesses for Trumbull’s paintings

as suggested by his predecessor. He added the

Doric pilasters, which were originally put up with

plain shafts. Apparently unhappy with the simple

pilasters, he dispatched stone carvers to flute the

shafts in place, paying them thirty-six dollars for
154 History of the United States Capitol

each. One critic, Latrobe’s biographer Talbot Hamlin, wrote that Bulfinch made a mistake by eliminating the niches, which he thought “would have

given scale and interest to the whole; as it stands,

it is cold, thin, and in spite of the paintings barren.” 90 Despite Hamlin’s authority in such matters,

Bulfinch’s design was practical and more structurally sound (an important factor in light of future

events). Niches of the size contemplated by

Latrobe would have weakened the walls and might

well have looked forlorn and vacant.

Heating a room the size of the rotunda was an

unusual problem, and one that had no satisfactory

solution by today’s standards of comfort. It was

also the subject of an unusual exchange between

the commissioner and the architect, two men who

normally worked together well. Bulfinch wrote the

commissioner about furnaces to convey warm air

from the crypt to the rotunda above. Elgar replied

in a stern letter in which he reprimanded the architect for failing to submit drawings for the work that

might be reviewed by heating experts. The cost of

stoves had not been included in the estimates and

the commissioner was upset that Bulfinch was

about to obligate funds without his knowledge.91

Bulfinch was taken aback by the tone and implications of Elgar’s letter but not intimidated in the

least. He stated that all the plans for the center building had been approved by the president of the United

States and he did not consider the commissioner’s

The Rotunda 

by Alexander Jackson

Davis, ca. 1832

Avery Architectural and

Fine Arts Library, Columbia

University in the City of

New York

Views of the original

rotunda are scarce. This

sketch shows the inner

dome, the oculus, the

Trumbull paintings

flanked by drapery

(noted as being reddish

purple), two iron stoves,

and a few sightseers.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 155

approval necessary for small details like stoves. He

regretted not mentioning his intentions earlier but

thought “it a thing so necessary to be done, & so simple & cheap in execution, that I could not imagine

any possible objection—especially as flues are

already built to convey smoke from the lower

Rotundo.” 92 As for the cost of heating, Bulfinch

thought that stoves could be had at a reasonable rate

and the expense of iron pipe would be no more than

twenty dollars. He expected the money could be

found in the contingency account. And as to their

relative roles, Bulfinch remarked that Congress and

the public looked to him for the “correct construction” of the Capitol, for its beauty and convenience.

He was expected to devise a way to warm the

rotunda, which was necessary to stop dampness

streaming down its walls. The heating plan was cheap

and easy to implement now but would entail a great

expense if put off to a future day.

The rotunda opened in 1824 without stoves to

warm it or history paintings to decorate its walls.

By October the wooden picture frames designed

by Bulfinch were sufficiently advanced to be put in

the hands of a gilder. Elgar hired Ephraim Gilman

to gild the frames, warning that if he failed to finish

his work in a timely fashion he would hire someone

else to do the job and would send him the bill. In

1819 the first painting Trumbull finished in his New

York studio, The Declaration of Independence,

was hung in the Supreme Court chamber after

being exhibited in New York, Boston, Philadelphia,

and Baltimore. The artist earned a tidy sum charging the public to view his picture, which unexpectedly stirred a reaction in Congress among members

who considered the work public property. (Trumbull earned even more after the picture was

engraved by Asher Durand in 1823.) Surrender of

Cornwallis at Yorktown was completed in 1820

and was shown in New York, Boston, and Baltimore

before being hung temporarily in the Senate chamber. During the next year The Surrender of Burgoyne was completed but was exhibited only in

New York due to the disappointing gate receipts

from the Yorktown showing. The final canvas,

George Washington Resigning his Commission,

was finished in April 1824 and was immediately put

on public display in New York. Trumbull traveled

with his picture to Albany, Boston, Providence,

Hartford, New Haven, and Philadelphia before

bringing it to Washington in December. All four

canvases hung in the north wing while the rotunda

walls dried sufficiently to be painted. Trumbull

returned to Washington on November 18, 1826,

more than two years after the rotunda opened, to

supervise installation of the paintings in their permanent location.

To finish the eastern portico and take care of

small details on the interior, Congress appropriated

$80,000, which was approved by the president on

February 25, 1825. Just over two weeks had passed

since the House of Representatives decided the

The Pantheon 

by Giovanni Paolo

Panini, ca. 1750 

National Gallery of Art,

Washington

The rotunda of the

United States Capitol

was intended to replicate

the grandeur and proportions of the ancient

Pantheon in Rome.
156 History of the United States Capitol

election of Monroe’s successor, narrowly electing

John Quincy Adams as the country’s sixth president. With the supporters of Andrew Jackson crying foul, the topic of discussion throughout

Washington had little to do with construction matters. The appropriation was made without debate.

One week later, Monroe—the last president of the

Revolutionary War generation—attended Adams’

inauguration in the House chamber.

Work on the east portico resumed in the spring

and continued slowly throughout the building season. By June only four column shafts had been

delivered; seven more were needed before the

entablature could be completed and the pediment

Choragic Monument of Thrasyllus 

From the 1825 edition of The Antiquities of Athens by James Stuart and Nicholas Revett

The Choragic Monument of Thrasyllus was a plain Doric composition notable for

its simplified entablature with wreaths instead of the more usual triglyphs and

metopes. Bulfinch modeled the rotunda walls after this design, seeking a “bold simplicity” that would not compete with the more richly ornamented legislative chambers.

The Rotunda

The lower forty-eight

feet of the rotunda’s

walls, the floor, carvings,

plaques, and Trumbull’s

Revolutionary War

scenes remain essentially

as Bulfinch left them.

(1980 photograph.)
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 157

begun. While work continued, it became time to

discuss the subject of sculpture for the pediment.

In the last days of his administration, Monroe

advised the commissioner to offer a prize of $500

to whoever would present the best design for a

statuary group to reside in the pediment. The

response to the contest was overwhelming.

Thirty-six designs from at least thirty artists were

submitted for consideration. Among those asked

to evaluate the designs was old and ailing Dr.

Thornton, who thought the prize money should

be split four ways. The design he liked best was a

figure of Justice flanked by Wisdom and Truth,

but he also admired a “model of the chariot & 4

horses with two figures of America & Liberty.” 93

President Adams took a keen interest in the project, but he did not like the idea of displaying “triumphal cars and emblems of Victory, and all

illusions to heathen mythology.” 94 He wanted the

duties of the government expressed in an obvious

and intelligible manner. The president conferred

with Elgar, Bulfinch, and an Italian sculptor named

Luigi Persico, and they eventually decided upon 

a simple composition of three figures with 

easily understood emblems. In a letter to his son,

Bulfinch described the sculpture destined for the

Capitol’s pediment:

After several attempts, the following had been

agreed upon: a figure of America occupies the

center, her right arm resting on a shield, supported by an altar or pedestal bearing the

inscription July 4, 1776, her left-hand pointing

to the figure of Justice, who, with unveiled

face, is viewing the scales, and the right hand

presenting an open scroll inscribed Constitution, March 4, 1789; on the left of the principal

figure is the eagle, and a figure of Hope resting

on her anchor, with face and hand uplifted, —

the whole intended to convey that while we

cultivate Justice we may hope for success.95

The public’s ability to understand the message

conveyed by allegorical statuary troubled Bulfinch

and perhaps others in the president’s informal committee. To assist the untutored, he predicted an

inscription would be provided to explain the meaning to “dull comprehensions.” Despite the prediction, no caption was provided when the sculpture

was unveiled in 1828.

FIRE IN THE LIBRARY

On December 5, 1825, the first session of

the 19th Congress convened in the nearly

completed Capitol. The rotunda walls

were still too wet to paint, Trumbull’s paintings

hung in temporary locations in the north wing, and

the east portico needed a few more columns raised

and the pediment built. But soon the building

would be finished and the grounds cleared of sheds

and storage yards. Sculptural embellishments

would continue but the masons, carpenters, and

painters would be soon gone.

One of the new members of Congress from

Massachusetts was Edward Everett, a professor of

Greek literature and future president of Harvard.

Although a freshman legislator, Everett’s reputation as a scholar landed him the chair of the House

Committee on the Library. On the evening of

December 22, 1825, he and his wife were entertained at a dinner party given by Senator Josiah S.

Johnston of Louisiana. Returning to their lodgings

on Capitol Hill at 11 o’clock, they saw a suspicious

flickering light through the windows on the west

side of the Capitol where the Library of Congress

was located. Knowing the library normally closed

at seven o’clock, and that there were no fireplaces

in the room, Everett decided to investigate. When

he approached the building, a guard challenged

him but was soon convinced that what the congressman had seen might warrant action. Going to

the western grounds they encountered a Capitol

policeman who saw nothing to be worried about.

He agreed, however, to go inside with Everett and

peek through the keyhole to see if the library was

on fire. When they got there, they discovered that

an inner baize-covered door blocked the view but

there were no signs of smoke or heat. The policeman did not have a key, which was kept by the

librarian. The two parted and Everett returned to

his lodging.96

In a few minutes, the policeman went outside

and saw the light coming through the library windows growing brighter. Not thinking he had the

authority to break down the doors, he went searching for George Watterston, the librarian of Congress,

who luckily lived nearby. They hurried into the building and, once the doors were opened, discovered 

a fire in the upper gallery but had no water to fight

it. They ran to the yard in front of the Capitol and 
158 History of the United States Capitol

furiously rang the bell used to summon workmen

at daybreak. In bed at the time, Everett heard

the alarm and hurried to the scene where other

neighbors, including Daniel Webster and Sam

Houston, had come to help save the Capitol. A

fire engine was found locked in a little shed and

no one had the key. The doors were torn off and

the equipment was hauled to the foot of the east

portico. In the library flames licked at the ceiling,

which was built with large wooden trusses that

would surely spread the fire to the dome. But

firefighters using the pump and hose liberated

from the Capitol’s fire station managed to extinguish the blaze before it spread beyond the ceiling. Just as the flames were brought under

control, the water supply gave out.

The cause of the fire was determined to have

been a candle left burning in the gallery and not

noticed when the library closed for the evening.

Apparently, a patron left without extinguishing the

flame and, by his carelessness, inflicted heavy damage to one of the Capitol’s handsomest rooms. Earlier that year, the National Intelligencer had

called it “the most beautiful apartment in the building. Its decorations are remarkably chaste and elegant, and the architecture of the whole displays a

great deal of taste.” 97 When the architect’s wife,

Hanna Apthorp Bulfinch, informed her sons of the

accident, she wrote: “Your good father has felt concerned and anxious, as he is very reasonably proud

of that room.” 98 She also said that the damage was

not great although a carpet worth $1,000 was

ruined. Many books were removed by firefighters

and most of those consumed were duplicate copies

stored on the gallery level.

About $3,000 was needed to repair the damage. Aware that the accident could have been far

worse, legislators asked Bulfinch to see how the

room could be rebuilt in a fireproof manner. Other

hazards, such as the hundreds of cords of wood

stored in the cellars, were also examined with fire

prevention in mind. On January 3, 1826, the House

Committee on the Library began its own investigation into the possibility of making the room perfectly fireproof; a month later its report concluded

that little could be done short of tearing everything

out and starting over. Wooden shelving could be

replaced with stone but the committee considered

the dampness of masonry an evil to paper almost

as bad as fire. Bulfinch estimated that more than

East Portico 

ca. 1870

This view of the east portico shows the wealth of sculpture associated with it:

Luigi Persico’s Genius of America (1828) is seen in the pediment; statues of War and

Peace (1834), also by Persico, occupy the niches flanking the entrance to the rotunda;

and Antonio Capellano’s Fame and Peace Crowning George Washington (1827)

appears above the door.

Above the niches are panels designed with oak wreaths and thirteen arrows 

(ca. 1825) carved by Thomas McIntosh and Jeremiah Sullivan. Bulfinch’s design was

likely influenced by similar panels L’Enfant installed on the upper walls of Federal

Hall in New York.

On the left cheek block flanking the stairs is Discovery of America (1844) 

by Persico opposite Rescue (1853) by Horatio Greenough.
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 159

$18,600 would be required to build stone bookcases, which he too thought would be “in a few

years ruinous to the books, from the condensation

of moisture, from the atmosphere upon freestone.”

An iron railing might replace the wood parapet on

the gallery but the effort was not worth the

expense. Unable to recommend any way to

fireproof the library, the committee simply advised

proper care of the lights and fires.99

Looking to other areas where the chance of

fire was great, congressional committees soon

focused on the cellars under the House and Senate wings where fuel for the Capitol’s furnaces,

stoves, and six score fireplaces was stored. Workmen going into these windowless areas to retrieve

wood or coal were guided by handheld candles or

lanterns, and there was always a good chance of

accidentally starting a fire. The intricate labyrinth

of columns, piers, and walls built to accommodate

the changes to the building’s floor plans would

have made it nearly impossible to fight a fire if it

started in the cellars. It soon became obvious that

some other place would have to be found to store

the Capitol’s fuel supply.

In 1826 Bulfinch presented four plans to store

fuel outside the Capitol.100 Each plan provided a

permanent place for a fire engine and other things

such as privies best kept near but not in the Capitol. Three of the four plans called for building a

terrace some distance from the west front separated from the Capitol by a pair of courtyards. No

matter what other use the terrace might have, it

improved the architectural effect on that side of

the building. It would hide the extra story at the

basement level of the central building while allowing the committee room windows to remain

unblocked. The view to the grounds and Mall might

be obstructed, but windows looking onto courtyards still allowed light and air into the rooms.

This clever design solved the old architectural

problem of the west front by giving it a uniform

ground line. With his plan to screen the basement

with a terrace faced by a sloping grass-covered

berm, Bulfinch expanded mightily on Trumbull’s

advice to “plant it out.”

Bulfinch’s first plan for “external offices” called

for a pair of buildings 140 feet long positioned

near the north and south ends of the Capitol. They

provided space for guard rooms, porter lodges,

stables, and perhaps more committee rooms. The

new buildings and a west terrace with provisions

for fuel storage were estimated to cost about

$122,000. His second plan provided vaults under

the terrace to store vast quantities of wood and

coal as well as courtyards where privies could be

located. Lodges for a fire engine, guards, and

porters were planned for the north and south

entrances to the grounds. That scheme would cost

about $99,000 to implement. The third proposal

called for two crescent-shaped buildings to house

the stables, engines, guards, and carriages. In this

plan, the terrace was eliminated and fuel storage

was provided under platforms at the ends of the

Capitol, with colonnades leading to the privies. At

$125,000, this was the most expensive proposal,

and the most difficult to understand without drawings. “Plan No. 4” was the cheapest. It called only

for a terrace and privies in the courtyards and

would cost $89,600.

After considering the options, a House committee recommended that Congress adopt the second scheme. Opposition to flanking buildings was

strong since, as it was pointed out, it would be foolish to begin additions to the Capitol when the main

building itself was not yet finished. Charles Anderson Wickliffe of Kentucky said the Capitol was

already large enough and “to a stranger, there was

already, from its being a perfect labyrinth, almost

as much difficulty to get out of it as some find in

getting into this House.” 101 James S. Stevenson of

Pennsylvania regretted that the end of the session

would be occupied by “a grave debate about a wood

house.” Another opponent to the terrace was Elisha

Whittlesly of Ohio, who claimed that the west elevation was decidedly the handsomest and did not

need “concealment.” Despite the opposition, funds

for the terrace were included in a $100,000 appropriation for the Capitol that President Adams

signed on May 22, 1826.102

About $18,750 was used from the appropriation to finish the grand flight of stairs to the east

portico. Except for the allegorical figures intended

for the pediment, the east front of the Capitol stood

complete at last in 1826, more than three decades

after George Washington laid the building’s cornerstone. The west, or garden, front had been finished

for four years but was now again the site of construction activity with carpenters and masons building the terrace vaults. During the first week in June

work was interrupted by a strike among stone 
160 History of the United States Capitol

cutters. Even more dramatic and unfortunate was

the accidental death of George Blagden, who was

killed when a section of the west terrace collapsed.

The loss to the works was felt immediately. Blagden

had been at the Capitol since 1794, had firsthand

knowledge of the complicated construction history,

and was a reliable, trustworthy, and talented mason.

His opinions were always held in high regard by the

succession of architects, commissioners, and presidents with whom he had worked. Bulfinch learned

of the tragedy in a letter written by Elgar on June

4, 1826. “We have met with an irreparable loss;” the

commissioner wrote, “Mr. Blagden was killed last

evening at the falling of the bank at the south angle

of the Capitol.” 103 In his annual report to Congress

Elgar included a tribute to Blagden:

The work suffered a severe loss by the accidental death of Mr. Blagden, which happened

early in the season. Possessing in a high degree

the science, and practical knowledge of his

profession, he had conducted in its most important branch, the construction of the Capitol,

almost from its commencement, with a precision, and fidelity, which he carried into all relations of life.104

“THIS 

COLOSSAL LABYRINTH”

W ith the Capitol complete and the

terrace underway, the mood in

Congress suddenly turned sour.

Proposals for improvements to the grounds, the

construction of small ancillary buildings, and minor

alterations to the interior all met with resistance

from some legislators worn down by constant

requests for money. Although funds continued to

be appropriated, the amounts were pared down

after some members proclaimed their exasperated

belief that the Capitol would never be finished.

Charles Miner of Pennsylvania said in the House

that he wanted an accounting of all monies spent

on the public buildings to draw attention to the

never-ending construction that was sapping the

public purse. After thirty years and three million

dollars, the sight and sounds of construction were

still common. He had been coming to Washington

for twenty years and witnessed the same confusion

about the Capitol—the same rolling of huge stones,

and the same din of workmen. Was this ever to

cease? Solomon’s Temple was finished in seven

years, but these buildings had been in the hands of

workmen more than seven and twenty years.105 And

it was not only the Capitol that was in a perpetual

state of incompleteness. The President’s House

was another case in point:

The President’s garden was, and always had

been, a scene of confusion—to him it seemed

as if the same cartman, who was there ten

years ago, were still employed hauling dirt

from one part of the enclosure to the other—

there was none of the elegance, the repose,

and the beauty, which there should be in the

garden of a private gentleman. Last year it was

proposed to take down the wall around the

President’s House, to rebuild it on a different

plan—the work was like Penelope’s web; what

was done at one time was undone at another

and never finished.

John Cocke of Tennessee agreed, but blamed

the prolonged construction on the architects and

superintendents who brought plans and estimates

before the House year after year and who would

lose employment if they failed to concoct things

to build. He thought a mere accounting of money

would not achieve anything and wished Miner to

change his motion so that it would preclude the

Preliminary

Terrace Plan 

and Landscape

Improvements 

by Charles Bulfinch

ca. 1826 

Library of Congress

Two privies (each

with six stalls) were 

proposed to be built in

the courtyards created

by a new west terrace.

Under the terrace were

provisions for a guard

room, two stables (each

with four stalls) with

adjoining hay storage

areas, and a place to

park the Capitol’s fire

engine. A slightly different plan was eventually

carried out. 
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 161

submission of any further plans. He suspected

that architects and builders would continue to

devise ways of spending money as long as Congress permitted it.106

An alternative point of view was provided by

Ichabod Bartlett of New Hampshire, who reminded

his colleagues that plans and estimates were made

in obedience to congressional instructions. The

reason yearly appropriations were requested was

due to the manner the House chose to make funds

available. If yearly requests were too annoying, the

House should be prepared to make one large appropriation to finish the Capitol and grounds. After

Bartlett finished his short, well-reasoned talk,

Miner withdrew his motion.

The funding needed for the 1827 building season totaled $104,789, but due to a surplus only

$79,244 was requested in a new appropriation.

These funds were necessary to complete small jobs

around the Capitol, to landscape the grounds, and

to erect buildings for gate keepers, an engine

house, and stables.107 About $1,200 was needed to

purchase a second fire engine. At first the stables

were to be located on the Capitol grounds but it

was subsequently considered more economical to

relocate them to adjacent property. Simple brick

structures would suffice there, whereas, if built

within the enclosure, something grander would

have been called for. Also contained within the

request were monies to build a bridge from the

new terrace to the Capitol and to convert a window into a door in the large room under the library.

Thus, the west front would gain a second entrance.

Part of the appropriation was earmarked for

stoves to warm the passages leading to the rotunda

View of the Capitol

by Charles Burton, 1824 

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Purchase, Joseph Pulitzer Bequest, 1942

This carefully drawn view shows the west front at the time it was finished 

and before the terrace was begun. Lining Pennsylvania Avenue were double rows 

of Lombardy poplars planted during the Jefferson administration.
162 History of the United States Capitol

and for guard rails to protect the history paintings

that were recently mounted in that room. John W.

Campbell of Ohio thought these items unnecessary

and moved to reduce the appropriation accordingly.

But Congressman Everett thought the stoves were

needed to avoid the abrupt change in temperature

upon entering long, cold passages. The moist chilly

air of the Capitol’s corridors reminded him more of

the Bastille than any other building he was ever

in.108 Campbell, however, was unmoved by his colleague’s explanation. He still thought too much

money was spent on unnecessary improvements

and remarked: “What may be considered economy

in Massachusetts, would be considered extravagance in Ohio.” Wickliffe of Kentucky agreed and

voiced opposition to building anything new, even

plain brick stables. His views were similar to those

expressed by John Cocke earlier in the session—

both blamed the architect for prolonging construction—but Wickliffe suspected there was a nefarious

plot afoot to keep the Capitol unfinished forever:

The root of the whole evil, the cause of the

immense expenditure and waste of public

money, upon this Colossal Labyrinth, may be

traced to the fact that we have some four or

five gentlemen who are drawing an annual

salary from the public Treasury, whose interest

it is, and whose ingenuity is tasked, between

the end and commencement of Congress, to

project some new scheme or fancied improvement upon which to expend the public money.

These salaries will continue until you finish this

building; they will never finish it, as long as you

furnish them money to waste upon it. Unless

Congress will check the appropriations, the

finishing of the Capitol, like the payment of the

public debt, will always be ‘anticipated.’ 109

Legislators asked why the rotunda needed to

be heated, why the new entrance from the terrace

was necessary, and why stables should be built.

One member argued that if the rotunda were

warmed, it would only create a comfortable resort

for “loungers and idlers.” 110 Spending money to

build a “wall,” as the terrace was called disparagingly, was foolish enough in some minds, but spending more money to “get over it so as to get into the

Capitol” was ludicrous. One critic said that he

would gladly vote to tear the terrace down rather

than fund the bridge. Providing stables at public

expense would only lead to buying horses and feed

with public money. Some members thought there

would be no end to the business of building the

Capitol. But at the close of debate, their suspicions

were insufficient to carry the day: the House

approved an appropriation of nearly $84,000 on

March 2, 1827. Despite the rancor, the only items

dropped in the final bill were the railings in front of

Trumbull’s paintings and the bridge to link the west

center building with the terrace.

Most of the work done during the 1827 building season took place outside. Antonio Capellano

finished a sculptural group over the portico

entrance to the rotunda entitled Fame and Peace

Crowning Washington while his compatriot, Luigi

Persico, worked on Genius of America in the pediment. Cartloads of dirt removed from the east garden were hauled to the terrace, where they were

unloaded to help build up a berm that would later

be planted with grass. The top of the terrace was

paved with Seneca stone from Maryland and an

iron railing was installed to guard against sightseers falling into the courtyards. To build the privies in the courtyards, the earth in front of the

foundations of the two wings was excavated and

small, one-story structures erected against the

newly exposed walls. Openings cut in the old foundations connected with interior staircases in the

cellars to allow senators in the north wing and congressmen in the south wing to access their privies

without venturing outside. Twelve stalls were provided in the south privy, while the north privy had

just six. Skylights were used in lieu of windows and

the flat roofs provided places for fragrant plants.

At night, workmen emptied pails of waste into the

canal at the foot of Capitol Hill.

Landscape improvements had begun before

Bulfinch’s arrival in Washington. In 1816 Congress

appropriated $30,000 to enclose and improve the

garden east of the Capitol. The following year

$38,658 was given to continue fencing the grounds.

By 1819 Griffith Coombs’ bill for iron and stone for

the Capitol’s fence alone totaled $67,925. More

than ornamental, the fence was necessary to prevent wandering cows, goats, and hogs from ruining

the grass and shrubbery. Bulfinch continued the

landscape improvements by extending the fence

completely around the twenty-two and a half acres

then comprising the Capitol’s grounds. He also

designed a fence to separate the east garden from

the carriage drive. Gideon Davis of Georgetown

contracted with the commissioner on June 12,

1828, to supply the extensive ironwork for the
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 163

fence. Vehicular and pedestrian entrances from A

Street north and A Street south were regulated by

gates erected in the spring of 1829.

Inside, the walls of the rotunda were painted

in 1827, two powerful stoves were installed in the

crypt to warm the room above, and the principal

sculptural decorations were completed. In panels

over the four doors, sculpted vignettes showed

early encounters between Europeans and American Indians, each implicitly promoting the idea of

“Manifest Destiny.” Two were violent, two were

peaceful, and each took place in a different part of

the country. Landing of the Pilgrims and William

Penn’s Treaty with the Indians illustrated cordial

relations occurring in New England and the midAtlantic region, while Preservation of Captain

Smith by Pocahontas and Conflict of Daniel

Boone and the Indians depicted fierce encounters in the south and west.

At the close of the 1827 building season

Bulfinch claimed the effects of the stoves could not

be felt until the opening in the rotunda floor was

closed to stop cold air entering from the crypt. The

circular aperture had been provided to help light

the crypt but was soon considered a nuisance. He

also called attention to the four vacant panels and

said that the rotunda could not be considered complete until additional paintings illustrating

significant “national subjects” were commissioned.

(Trumbull seldom missed the opportunity to

declare his willingness to paint more scenes from

the Revolutionary War era.) The architect proposed a new visitor gallery for the Senate chamber

to prevent the necessity of visitors being admitted

to the floor. This would allow the upper gallery

along the east wall, which had little headroom and

was difficult to access, to be removed. For the

House wing, Bulfinch again recommended removing the principal staircase, which had survived the

fire of 1814 but was worn and poorly lighted. He

proposed building a more graceful, light, and airy

staircase in its place. The brick and tile paving on

the first floor passages was so worn that Bulfinch

wanted to re-pave the areas with stone. Gate

houses were needed to help control access to the

grounds.111 Bulfinch provided estimates for these

small items on what modern builders call the

“punch list.” They were submitted to Congress on

February 1, 1828.112

When the funding request was taken up by the

House on April 28, 1828, the number of gate and

guard houses was the first topic of discussion. Two

lodges were proposed for the western entrance to

the grounds at Pennsylvania Avenue and one each

at the carriage entrances from A Streets north and

south. John Woods of Ohio moved to strike them

from the legislation. Everett immediately rose to

support the lodges and was joined by John W. Taylor and Dudley Marvin of New York. Henry Dwight

of Massachusetts offered a compromise—retain

the western lodges and forgo the others. His suggestion was approved. Wickliffe of Kentucky

wanted to remove funds that were earmarked to

rebuild the main staircase leading to the House

chamber. Everett condemned the old stair, which

he called “very confined and inconvenient,” and

explained the advantages of a new circular one.

Other adjustments, such as moving the private

stairs and creating a new lobby, were also contemplated and would, in Everett’s opinion, greatly

improve access to the chamber. Despite Wickliffe’s

opposition, the proposal to rebuild the staircase

was approved.113

Fortified by the staircase victory, Everett

moved to add funds to build the bridge connecting

the center of the Capitol with the terrace. He

claimed that the entrance from the terrace would

be a great convenience to those approaching the

building from the west and was “indispensable to

the symmetry of that front of the building.” How

the door and bridge resolved matters of symmetry

is hard to imagine, and it was not questioned at the

time, but James Mitchell of Tennessee “warmly

opposed” Everett’s amendment as another useless

expense. He did not care about the terrace and

only wanted the “speedy payment of the public

debt.” But the question before the House pertained

to a new entrance, and it was approved seventytwo to thirty-six.114 Three days later the Senate

agreed, and the president approved $56,400 for

the Capitol and $3,121 for the connecting bridge.115

On the last day of the session (May 26, 1828),

Everett submitted a resolution asking the commissioner of public buildings to “secure the paintings

in the Rotundo from the effects of dampness.” 116

Although the paintings had hung in the room less

than two years, they already showed the effects of

moisture and were destined to ruin unless measures were taken. After a brief debate, it was
164 History of the United States Capitol

decided that Trumbull should direct the operation

and be allowed a reasonable compensation.

As soon as he learned of the resolution Trumbull wrote Elgar to say that he would come to Washington once the opening in the rotunda floor was

closed. It was useless to begin restoration until the

source of dampness was eliminated. The aperture

was duly filled in, and after the workmen were gone

Trumbull arrived to supervise removal of the paintings from their frames; they were then taken to a

warm, dry room for examination. As the artist had

feared, mildew was discovered on the backs of the

linen canvases. They were laid out—paint down—

on carpets to air out. Drawing on published reports

from French chemists who studied Egyptian mummies and antiquarians in England who examined

the body of King Edward I, Trumbull learned that

wax had been used as a preservative and it did not

affect the brilliance of colors. He determined to

coat the unpainted backs with common beeswax

and turpentine, brushed on and then gone over

with hot irons. Meanwhile, the niches in the walls

were coated with cement and vents cut to let air

circulate behind the paintings. The paintings, after

their wax treatment, were stretched across flat

boards drilled with hundreds of holes to allow the

canvases to breathe. With this backing, the pictures were protected from “careless or intentional

blows of sticks, canes, &c., or children’s missiles.”

The four paintings were then put back into their

places, cleaned, and lightly revarnished. Curtains

were hung that could be closed when the floor was

swept or in summer when Congress was in recess.

Thus the canvases were protected from clouds of

dust and “the filth of flies,” which Trumbull claimed

were the “most destructive enemies of paintings.”

Self-closing doors covered with baize were hung at

the entrances to keep the room warm and dampfree. By keeping the doors closed and the furnaces

lighted, Trumbull found that the temperature

remained at sixty-three degrees, a level that would

keep the paintings “perfectly and permanently

secured against the deleterious effects of dampness.” He still wished to install railings at least ten

feet from the walls but did not have the authority.

The right foot of General Morgan in the Surrender

of Burgoyne had previously been cut off using a

common penknife, and while the wound had been

repaired, railings were desirable to prevent further

acts of vandalism. Trumbull spent seventy days in

Washington supervising the restoration of his paintings, for which he was paid $560.117

The commissioner of public buildings reported

that $59,020 was spent on the Capitol and grounds

during the 1828 building season—$500 less than

anticipated. Lack of materials prevented the firstfloor corridor paving from being completed and the

landscaping, being a “progressive work,” was also

unfinished.118 A local blacksmith named James Martin installed the new visitor’s gallery in the Senate

chamber in the fall of 1828. Thin iron columns with

capitals modeled on the Corinthian order were used

to support a curving platform while twenty-five iron

joists supported a wooden floor. A railing weighing

almost a ton was installed as well.119 Bulfinch

designed the new gallery and was thus responsible

for the introduction into the Capitol of architectural

ironwork, which would become a favorite material

for the next generation of Capitol builders.

Bulfinch did not write an annual report for the

year 1828. Whatever he might have said, it would

not have diverted attention from the presidential

Gate House

Until they were relocated in the 1870s, small stone houses were used by gate

keepers tending the entrances to the Capitol’s western garden. Unless the gates were

closely guarded, cattle, sheep, hogs, and goats would enter and feast on the garden’s

lush vegetation. Bulfinch designed the structures in 1828 with belt courses and panels

derived from the exterior stonework of the Capitol. (1960 photograph.)
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 165

election, a rematch between the cold, reserved,

and austere incumbent, John Quincy Adams, and

the charismatic hero of the Battle of New Orleans,

Andrew Jackson. Old Hickory’s followers had

waited four years for the rematch, suspecting that

Henry Clay’s support for Adams in 1824 had cost

their hero the presidency. After Adams named Clay

secretary of state, they had evidence of what they

called a “corrupt bargain.” But four years later

Jackson rode to the President’s House in a landslide that was seen as a victory for the frontier west

over the stale aristocracy of the east. Emotions ran

high before and after the results were tallied, and

there is little wonder that Commissioner Elgar

wrote only a two-sentence report on the Capitol’s

progress in 1828 and Bulfinch wrote nothing at all.

On March 3, 1829, the last day of the lame duck

session, Congress appropriated $18,762 for repairs

around the Capitol and grounds. Bulfinch

requested money to build a railing along the central walk in the western grounds to protect the

grounds from cattle.120 He found that when the

western gate was left open, cattle wandered onto

the grounds and did great harm to the newly

planted trees and shrubs. Other small items needed

to be completed, but most of the money granted

was to keep things in good repair.

The day after the appropriation was made,

Andrew Jackson was inaugurated president on the

east portico of the Capitol, setting off a raucous

celebration that lasted weeks. As the grand, sheltered entrance to the “Temple of Liberty,” the portico became the preferred stage for presidential

inaugurals until the event was relocated to the

more spacious west front in 1981. Throngs of supporters came to Washington for Jackson’s swearing

in, and one supporter wrote a newspaper in the

president’s home state of Tennessee that he witnessed an astonishing sight in the rotunda. It was

an exhibition of a new railroad car loaded with

eight passengers pulled across the room by a single

thread of American-made sewing cotton.121 Such

displays were not then uncommon in the rotunda

but would later be discouraged.

On June 25, 1829, Elgar wrote Bulfinch a terse

note informing the architect that his services would

no longer be needed after the end of the month.

Admittedly, little work remained, but the sudden

dismissal smacked of reproach. In earlier conversations with members of Congress, Bulfinch had 

South Gateway of

Capitol at

Washington, D. C.

by August Kollner

1839

Library of Congress

The carriage

entrances to the Capitol

grounds were protected

by high iron gates and

stone column shafts

topped by lanterns. A

lone congressional boarding house, pastures, and

forests appear in the

background.
166 History of the United States Capitol

indicated that he was prepared to leave at the end

of September and wished to complete his government service without a hint of unpleasantness. Two

days after Elgar’s letter was written, however,

Bulfinch wrote a memorial to President Jackson

asking to be continued three more months in order

to finish up and avoid the impression of censure.122

The president denied Bulfinch’s request, saying it was his duty to guard against wasteful expenditures. The order, he explained, was issued simply

because the commissioner decided the Capitol no

longer required architectural services. But there

was no intention of implying any dissatisfaction

with the architect’s conduct or talents. Jackson

stated that he did not wish “to manifest the slightest disapprobation of the manner in which you

have discharged your duties.” 123 Thus, with five

days’ notice, Bulfinch’s eleven and a half years of

service came to an end.

After leaving the Capitol, Bulfinch found

enough work to keep him in Washington for another

year. He designed a penitentiary for the capital

city, a jail for Alexandria, and a naval hospital in

Norfolk. For these extra services Bulfinch received

$600 and was allowed an additional $500 to pay for

returning his family to Boston.124 He departed Washington during the first week of June 1830, leaving

friends behind with sincere regret. The city had

given him a pleasant home for twelve years and he

seemed almost as reluctant to leave as he had been

to go there in the first place.125 Bulfinch had the

satisfaction of concluding the longest running

architectural drama in the nation’s history, one

with more players and critics than he cared to

recall. He was the first architect to leave the Capitol without a cloud over his head, the only one to

look upon his years there with affection. Perhaps

his success as a Washington architect was due to

his political and social experiences in Boston, or

perhaps it was his common sense and unwillingness to pick fights he could not win. George

Hadfield had called the Capitol a “seat of broils,

confusion, and squandered thousands,” but

Bulfinch left it with a profound sense of professional and personal satisfaction.126

Representatives’ Principal Staircase

The circular stair and scalloped niche were installed in 1828 within a two-story

space built twenty-one years earlier. While the remodeling disrupted Latrobe’s

sequence of changing spatial and lighting experiences, the new stair provided 

a more graceful approach to the House chamber. (1975 photograph.)
The Bulfinch Years, 1818–1829 167

Model of 

the Capitol 

As Completed 

by Bulfinch

These views look

northwest (above) and

northeast (below). Note

the exterior stair leading

to the top of the dome 

in the bottom view. 

(1994 photographs.)