Zachary Taylor's Washington
John Eisenhower has a unique connection with Presidential history. He is both the son of a president (Dwight Eisenhower obviously) and also the biographer of a president. He wrote the American Presidents Series biography of Zachary Taylor. He also wrote a history of the Mexican War entitled So Far from God, and a biography of Winfield Scott called Agent of Destiny: The Life and Times of General Winfield Scott.
I found this excerpt from the biography of Taylor at pages 97-98, describing how different the Washington of 1849 was from the way it is today:
In person, Taylor's personality sat well with the people of Washington. Since the president was not restricted in his movements by security people, he was able to get away from the White House and all it's hubbub by taking long recreational walks around the city, sometimes for remarkable distances. His attire became familiar to the people on the street; his black silk hat sat habitually on the back of his head, and his clothes, by his own preference, were large and unfashionably comfortable. The habits Taylor had developed commanding armies in the field had not left him. One evening, Taylor passed Henry Clay on the street, and was offended when Clay, lost in thought, failed to greet him. Taylor, always touchy in such matters, later expressed his resentment, at which Clay apologized profusely.
Living conditions in the White House could have been better. The house needed paint and the roof leaked. The intense heat, for which Washington is famous, was exacerbated by the humidity. The filled-in soil that exists between the White House and the Potomac today did not exist in 1849, and the White House was close to the marshes at the edge of the river.
These conditions, annoying though they were, bore more significance that mere discomfort; they could spawn disease. During the summer of 1849, reports came in of a cholera epidemic creeping up from the south into the Midwest. By May, the scourge had reached as far north as Wisconsin, having taken the lives of 10 percent of the populations of both St. Louis and Cincinnati. If that epidemic should turn eastward, Washington would be a dangerous place indeed to live. The situation was not so certain to come about, but so severe was the epidemic nationally that in July Taylor, not a particularly religious man himself, proclaimed a day of prayer.
I found this excerpt from the biography of Taylor at pages 97-98, describing how different the Washington of 1849 was from the way it is today:
In person, Taylor's personality sat well with the people of Washington. Since the president was not restricted in his movements by security people, he was able to get away from the White House and all it's hubbub by taking long recreational walks around the city, sometimes for remarkable distances. His attire became familiar to the people on the street; his black silk hat sat habitually on the back of his head, and his clothes, by his own preference, were large and unfashionably comfortable. The habits Taylor had developed commanding armies in the field had not left him. One evening, Taylor passed Henry Clay on the street, and was offended when Clay, lost in thought, failed to greet him. Taylor, always touchy in such matters, later expressed his resentment, at which Clay apologized profusely.
Living conditions in the White House could have been better. The house needed paint and the roof leaked. The intense heat, for which Washington is famous, was exacerbated by the humidity. The filled-in soil that exists between the White House and the Potomac today did not exist in 1849, and the White House was close to the marshes at the edge of the river.
These conditions, annoying though they were, bore more significance that mere discomfort; they could spawn disease. During the summer of 1849, reports came in of a cholera epidemic creeping up from the south into the Midwest. By May, the scourge had reached as far north as Wisconsin, having taken the lives of 10 percent of the populations of both St. Louis and Cincinnati. If that epidemic should turn eastward, Washington would be a dangerous place indeed to live. The situation was not so certain to come about, but so severe was the epidemic nationally that in July Taylor, not a particularly religious man himself, proclaimed a day of prayer.