Dorothy's Tour

The whole party made a tour of the room with much interest, viewing the canvases.

“We might divide these pictures into two classes,” said Mr. Ludlow, “the early historical and revolutionary. The former are, I suspect, to a degree imaginative, but the latter are accurately true to the times and scenes they depict. In the first group are the following: ‘The Landing of Columbus at San Salvador in 1492,’ ‘The Discovery of the Mississippi by De Soto in 1541,’ ‘The Baptism of Pocahontas at Jamestown in 1613,’ and, the last of this group, ‘The Farewell Service on Board the Speedwell.’ This shows an unseaworthy old port now called Lyden, Holland – for America, bearing the first colony of pilgrims who were finally landed on Plymouth Rock by the Mayflower.”

“Then,” Mrs. Calvert pointed out, “there follows the group of Revolutionary pictures. Beside each picture of this group is an outline key which gives the names of the people shown. The first is ‘The Signing of the Declaration of Independence’ in the old hall in Philadelphia in 1776. The second one is the ‘Surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga’ to General Gates. This picture was made from sketches made on the very spot by Colonel Trumbull, who was a close friend of Washington. He was present at the scene of the next picture also, ‘The Surrender of Lord Cornwallis.’ The British are seen marching between the lines of the Americans and their French allies.

“The fourth is the ‘Resignation of Washington’ as commander-in-chief of his well-tried army, always a rather pathetic scene, it seems to me.”

“How interesting. I could spend hours here, but suppose we must not.”

“Where next?” inquired Dorothy.

“We will go through this door and into what was the original Hall of Representatives, and is now the Statuary Hall,” answered Mrs. Calvert.

The room which they now entered was semi-circular in shape, and whose ceiling is half a dome beneath which is a spacious gallery now filled with a library.

“The House of Representatives used this hall quite generally for fifty years, from 1808 on,” said Mr. Ludlow. “Here Clay, Webster, Adams, Calhoun, Randolph, Cass, and many others won world-wide fame, and made the walls ring with their fiery eloquence. Here were many fierce and bitter wrangles over vexed questions, turbulent scenes, displays of sectional feelings. Too bad they had no talking machines in those days to deal out impassioned oratory for future generations.”

“What is that star set in the floor for?” inquired Ruth; whose interest in oratory of past ages was limited.

“That marks the spot where John Quincy Adams, then a representative from his home, Massachusetts, was prostrated at his desk. See, the date is February 1, 1848,” read Dorothy.

“Where did all these statues come from?” questioned Alfaretta.

“Most of them were bought and placed here, and some of them, I think, were donated,” answered Aunt Betty.

“This statuary hall,” continued Mr. Ludlow, “has great acoustic properties.”

“Shall we get a Capitol guide?” asked Mrs. Calvert. “They say they can amuse one greatly, for they know each place where these strange things can be heard.”

“Yes, I will go and find one. You stay here till I come back,” added Mr. Ludlow, turning to the others. In a few moments he was back, accompanied by a young man in uniform.

The guide showed them where they could hear curious echoes, whispers distinct at a distance, and the ability to hear slight sounds that are inaudible at your elbow. They all tried these experiments. Ruth took her place at one corner of the room and Dorothy in the other corner at the same side of the room. The guide told them that they could converse in a low tone, yet each heard distinctly what the other said.

Ruth started off by saying, “Dorothy, do you believe what this guide is telling us or do you think he is fooling us?”

Dorothy was greatly surprised when she found she could hear quite plainly what Ruth said, and answered, “I am surprised to say I do.”

At this ambiguous answer they all laughed. Then, one by one, they tried the experiment, each finding how perfectly it worked out.

Leaving Statuary Hall by the door under the arch, they traversed the corridor to the present Hall of Representatives. It is an oblong room of liberal size. The ceiling is a framework of iron, bronzed and gilded, and inlaid with glass upon which the coats-of-arms of the States are painted. The light effect is beautiful; the colors are mellowed rather than obscured.

The Speaker’s raised desk is against the southern wall and below this are the marble desks of the official reporters. The latter keep a stenographic record of everything done or said, to be published the next morning so that those who are absent or pay little attention to what is going on may still keep posted on the progress of events. The sergeant-at-arms is within easy call. This latter officer is called the Speaker’s policeman – the representative of the physical force, and his symbol of authority is the mace, which reposes on a marble pedestal at the right of the speaker.

“The mace was adopted by the House in the first Congress,” explained Mr. Ludlow. “It has been in use ever since.”

“How do they use it?” questioned Dorothy.

“When it is placed upon its pedestal,” he answered, “it signifies that the House is in session, and under the Speaker’s authority.”

“I suppose I ought to know, but who is the Speaker, and what does he do?” asked Alfaretta.

“The Speaker,” continued Mr. Ludlow, “is the head of the House, elected by vote of the members.”

“And I have a question,” said Ruth. “What is a mace?”

“In this case, the mace is a bundle of black rods fastened with transverse bands of silver. On its top is a silver globe, surmounted by a silver eagle,” answered Mr. Ludlow, “and when the sergeant-at-arms is executing the commands of the Speaker, he is required to bear aloft the mace in his hands, unlike the House of Parliament, where there is much form and ceremony, there is little else here than quiet dignity.”

Grouped in concentric semi-circles are the desks of the Representatives, all small, uniform and handsome.

“The Republican party all sit on the Speaker’s left and the Democrats on the right,” volunteered Mr. Dauntrey.

“My, but there are a lot of seats,” said Alfy. “Who uses them?”

“In the galleries,” said Mr. Ludlow. “Those over the Speaker’s head are for the press. The others are for onlookers, some for diplomats, friends of the Congressmen, and some for ladies. They hold more than a thousand people, I think.”

Going downstairs they came to the House lobby. This apartment is richly furnished and contains many portraits, most of them being crayon drawings of the Speakers of the past. Passing through this room and out, one comes to the committee rooms in one of which is hung a notable collection of paintings of the principal forts of the United States.

From this corridor, the party descended the eastern grand staircase to a basement corridor which extends from end to end of the Capitol on this ground floor. This they traversed till they came to the Senate chamber. The white marble pillars in this at once attracted their attention.

Mr. Ludlow said, “I want you all to examine these marble pillars carefully and notice that though they are of Corinthian mold, their floriated capitals represent leaves of American plants, the one most used being the tobacco leaf.”

Passing onward, to the right, they saw the old Supreme Court chamber, now used as a law library. All the corridors at this end are bright, and the walls and ceilings are very elaborately decorated with mural designs in the Italian manner, being daintily drawn and brightly colored. Among them are many portraits of early men of note, in medallions, and a long series of charming drawings in colors of American birds and flowers.

The vestibule of the Senate post office is particularly picturesque, having over the post office door a large painting of Fulton, indicating his first steamboat, “The Claremont,” passing the palisades of the Hudson.

A stairway leads on up to the main floor, where corridors completely extend around the Senate chamber, which occupies the center of its wing. Here the ceiling, in contrast with the one of the House, is flat, with broad panels of glass, painted with emblems of the army, the navy and the arts. The walls are of marble, paneled, the doors of choice mahogany, the carpet green, which sets off well the mahogany desks of quaint pattern. Each desk bears a silver plate with the occupant’s name engraved upon it.

“Do the Republicans sit on the left of the Speaker here, and the Democrats on the right, as in the House?” questioned Alfaretta, very proud of herself for having remembered what had been told her in the other room.

“Yes, but there is no Speaker in the Senate,” answered Mr. Ludlow.

“Who is it, then, that uses that beautifully carved high backed chair on that little platform there?” asked Dorothy.

“The president of the Senate is the Vice-President of the United States,” said Mrs. Calvert, smiling and thinking that the girls ought to know more about these things, for they were shockingly lacking in knowledge of all the fundamental principles of the workings of the government.

“Who are all these statues of?” asked Alfaretta, pointing to the niches in the walls.

“These are statues of all the vice-presidents,” answered Mrs. Calvert again.

“Outside here are many interesting things that you will all like to see,” said Mr. Ludlow. “To the right here is the famous portrait of Washington, and opposite, one of John Adams.”

“Is that Benjamin Franklin?” inquired Ruth, looking at a large marble statue at the foot of the eastern staircase, when they had passed through the door situated between the two portraits.

“Yes, and the picture on the wall of the stair landing is a very famous one. It is of Commander Perry at the battle of Lake Erie. Perry is seen transferring himself and his flag from his sinking flagship ‘Lawrence’ to the ‘Niagara,’ when he won that great victory. This transfer was made under fire. Perry’s younger brother, Matthew, then a midshipman, is depicted here as entreating his brother and commander not to expose himself too recklessly,” said Mr. Ludlow in the way of explaining this picture.

“And the faces of the sailors are drawn from once well-known employes about the Capitol,” added Aunt Betty. “My guide book tells me that.”

“This vestibule opens at its inner end into the Senate reception room. The one thing of interest in this room,” said Mr. Ludlow, when they had entered, “is the picture on the south wall. It is of Washington, in conference with Jefferson and Hamilton.”