In 1791, President George Washington entrusted French-born American architect and civil engineer Pierre Charles L’Enfant with designing a plan for the nation’s capital, giving him a blank canvas to lay the foundation for modern Washington.

A fragile map documenting this plan, drawn by L’Enfant in 1791 and carefully preserved at the Library, is considered a vital piece of American urban history.

Inspired by the cities of Paris and Versailles, L’Enfant added many intricate details to the city’s grid, placing the Capitol at the center, with major avenues radiating outward like spokes on a wheel.

The map reflects his vision of a city of broad avenues, open public squares, low skylines and tree-lined streets named after states, creating a visual reminder of national unity.

L’Enfant included an expansive promenade stretching west from the “Congress house” — today’s Capitol building — toward the Potomac River, labeling it a “Grand Avenue” for both leisure and civic gatherings, a precursor to what became known over time as the National Mall. He placed the White House — labeled “President’s house” — on elevated land northwest of the Capitol, cleverly connecting the executive and legislative branches of government with what’s now Pennsylvania Avenue.

L’Enfant added open squares and circles, such as Dupont Circle, Logan Circle and Judiciary Square, meant to showcase monuments, public buildings and walkable green spaces. Many of them remain today. Other, lesser-known details draw attention to the original working draft. As early as 1796, when Washington transferred the map to commissioners overseeing a survey of the district, he noted that Thomas Jefferson’s penciled instructions to the engraver on the map were difficult to read.

Then there’s the signature: L’Enfant signed his work as Peter Charles L’Enfant, not Pierre, to reflect his adopted American identity after serving in the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War. His anglicized name also appears in other historical documents, likely a nod to American loyalty and embracing his role in the young nation.

The map changed hands and locations over many years and suffered decades of deterioration due to heavy use and poor storage conditions, as evidenced by its brittle condition, darkened areas and faded ink. After numerous accounts of its poor condition, the map was transferred to the Library in 1918 for safekeeping. It underwent conservation efforts in 1951, and again in 1991, leaning on modern technology to reveal more information.

Frustrated with L’Enfant’s continued delay in submitting a plan to an engraver, an essential step to promote the new location of the nation’s capital, Washington removed him from the project in 1792. L’Enfant died a poor man, never witnessing how the city fully grew into his vision.

His enduring legacy, however, is a blueprint that fused beauty with power for lasting symbolic and historical impact. Even with modern updates over time, traffic circles, public squares and other open gathering spaces are a reminder of L’Enfant’s vision for D.C. as a European-style capital. Just don’t blame him for the rush-hour traffic jams commuters endure.