University of Virginia Library

TO MRS. SMITH

I arrived here on Sunday last, and without meeting
with any accident worth noticing, except losing ourselves
when we left Baltimore, and going eight or

nine miles on the Frederick road, by which means
we were obliged to go the other eight through
woods, where we wandered two hours without finding
a guide, or the path. Fortunately, a straggling
black came up with us, and we engaged him as a
guide, to extricate us out of our difficulty; but woods
are all you see, from Baltimore until you reach the
city, which is only so in name. Here and there is a
small cot, without a glass window, interspersed
amongst the forests, through which you travel miles
without seeing any human being. In the city there
are buildings enough, if they were compact and
finished, to accommodate Congress and those attached
to it; but as they are, and scattered as they are,
I see no great comfort for them. The river, which
runs up to Alexandria, is in full view of my window,
and I see the vessels as they pass and repass. The
house is upon a grand and superb scale, requiring
about thirty servants to attend and keep the apartments
in proper order, and perform the ordinary
business of the house and stables; an establishment
very well proportioned to the President's salary. The
lighting the apartments, from the kitchen to parlours
and chambers, is a tax indeed; and the fires we are
obliged to keep to secure us from daily agues is
another very cheering comfort. To assist us in this
great castle, and render less attendance necessary,
bells are wholly wanting, not one single one being
hung through the whole house, and promises are all
you can obtain. This is so great an inconvenience,
that I know not what to do, or how to do. The ladies
from Georgetown and in the city have many of
them visited me. Yesterday I returned fifteen visits,
—but such a place as Georgetown appears,—
why, our Milton is beautiful. But no comparisons;—
if they will put me up some bells, and let me have
wood enough to keep fires, I design to be pleased.
I could content myself almost anywhere three
months; but, surrounded with forests, can you believe
that wood is not to be had, because people
cannot be found to cut and cart it! Briesler entered
into a contract with a man to supply him with
wood. A small part, a few cords only, has he
been able to get. Most of that was expended to
dry the walls of the house before we came in, and
yesterday the man told him it was impossible for
him to procure it to be cut and carted. He has
had recourse to coals; but we cannot get grates
made and set. We have, indeed, come into a new
country.

You must keep all this to yourself, and, when
asked how I like it, say that I write you the situation
is beautiful, which is true. The house is made habitable,
but there is not a single apartment finished,
and all withinside, except the plastering, has been
done since Briesler came. We have not the least
fence, yard, or other convenience, without, and the
great unfinished audience-room I make a drying-room
of, to hang up the clothes in. The principal
stairs are not up, and will not be this winter. Six
chambers are made comfortable; two are occupied
by the President and Mr. Shaw; two lower rooms,

one for a common parlour, and one for a levee-room.
Up stairs there is the oval room, which is designed
for the drawingroom, and has the crimson furniture
in it. It is a very handsome room now; but, when
completed, it will be beautiful. If the twelve years,
in which this place has been considered as the future
seat of government, had been improved, as they
would have been if in New England, very many
of the present inconveniences would have been removed.
It is a beautiful spot, capable of every improvement,
and, the more I view it, the more I am
delighted with it.

Since I sat down to write, I have been called
down to a servant from Mount Vernon, with a billet
from Major Custis, and a haunch of venison, and a
kind, congratulatory letter from Mrs. Lewis, upon
my arrival in the city, with Mrs. Washington's love,
inviting me to Mount Vernon, where, health permitting.
I will go, before I leave this place.

The Senate is much behind-hand. No Congress
has yet been made. 'T is said——is on his
way, but travels with so many delicacies in his rear,
that he cannot get on fast, lest some of them should
suffer.

Thomas comes in and says a House is made; so
to-morrow, though Saturday, the President will meet
them. Adieu, my dear. Give my love to your
brother, and tell him he is ever present upon my
mind.