CHAPTER IX
SECOND ADMINISTRATION OF GROVER
CLEVELAND
March 4, 1893, to March 4, 1897
CLEVELAND luck brought Grover Cleveland back to the White House in March, 1893, to succeed the man who had defeated him at the end of his first term, and whom he had in turn defeated also from succeeding himself.
The “luck” did not extend its benign influence to propitiate the elements, since, instead of the ideal day of sunshine and soft spring zephyrs of his first term, he had to combat the discomforts of a cold, wet snow with its chill and slush.
Fortune had been so liberal with her favours that he could discount her fickleness in that respect, however, even though Democratic hosts had assembled to celebrate their return to power with a brilliant and gorgeous display.
Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland, with the addition of little Ruth Cleveland, their seventeen-months-old daughter, reached Washington on March 3d, going direct to the Arlington, where Mr. Lamont had engaged a suite for them, and where old friends had gathered to greet them. They, like Vice President-elect and Mrs. Stevenson, held a continuous reception.
Promptly at eleven fifty-five the President and the President-elect departed for the Capitol, unaccompanied, in the only open carriage in the pretentious procession that meant the eclipse of one leader and the installation of the other.
After the ceremonies in the Senate, much pressure was brought to bear upon Mr. Cleveland to abandon the idea of taking the oath out of doors. He felt, however, that he owed it to the waiting thousands, patiently standing, to let them see and hear him, and so he followed his previous course, in tribute to Thomas Jefferson, of delivering his inaugural address before the oath was administered by Chief Justice Fuller.
Among the many interested spectators of the ceremonies were Mrs. Cleveland and Mrs. Stevenson, who braved the weather to hear their husbands.
Following the ceremonies at the Capitol and the luncheon at the White House, the new President took his position in the open reviewing stand, where he stood for three hours as the pageant assembled in his honour and marched past. Mrs. Cleveland reviewed the parade from a window over a drug store on Fifteenth Street, where a party of her old friends had gathered to be with her.
The procession was remarkable for its length, order, and appearance. The distinguished and the well-known clubs and organizations participating represented hosts of Democrats from coast to coast. Governors of eleven states with their staffs participated; a fine-looking group of students from Carlisle, and Tammany in all of the paraphernalia of its origin, 3,400 strong, whom it had taken eight trains to transport. All these, joined with 20,000 marchers, adherents, and admirers of the new head of the nation, made a pageant long to be remembered.
The Inaugural Committee had done valiant work in again preparing the great Pension Building for the ball at which President and Mrs. Cleveland arrived about nine o’clock. They were announced by the Marine Band’s “Hail to the Chief.” Their tour of the ballroom gave many scores of people the opportunity to see their Chief Executive and the First Lady at close range, a privilege for which thousands had travelled many miles and endured great discomforts. Mrs. Cleveland, walking with Justice Gray, was all-inclusive in her smile and greetings, but scores carried away the fond belief that she smiled just at each of them. The President, escorted by General Schofield, radiated pride and happiness. When they reached their own special reception room, the Vice President and Mrs. Stevenson, with their daughters, were the first to pay them respect. Here, too, came hosts of old friends to extend congratulations and greetings.
Mrs. Cleveland’s dress was, of course, the observed of all observers. Severe and simple in style, it was rich and graceful. Made of heavy white satin with an empire front and tightly fitting back, the skirt was carried out to a pointed train. It was trimmed with point lace and crystal beads. The embroidery ran up in rows about twelve inches from the edge of the skirt. The front was most elaborately embroidered with crystal beads, while the huge puffs of the satin that made the sleeves were dotted with the crystal. Stiff satin bows at the shoulders and a heavy fall of the lace completed the corsage. She wore diamonds.
Mrs. Stevenson’s handsome gown was distinctive, being white moire antique made in the style of 1830. It had a narrow binding of purple velvet on the edge of the skirt and on the edge of the round low-necked waist. Garlands of purple violets were arranged to fall over the old-fashioned bertha of fine duchess lace. Puff sleeves of the velvet reached to the elbow and were met by soft suède gloves of the same shade. Mrs. Stevenson’s fan was a dainty affair of flowers, lace, and ribbons in the same tints.
Adjoining the ballroom, a huge temporary structure had been constructed on the north side as a kitchen. From this a local caterer supplied an elaborate banquet to all who sought refreshments.
Part of the celebration, and one that from the beginning has been popular in connection with inauguration ceremonies, was the unusually beautiful pyrotechnic display.
While the Democratic chieftain and Mrs. Cleveland and all of their followers were celebrating their victory, another charming function was in progress in honour of Ex-President Harrison and Mrs. McKee, at the home of Postmaster General Wanamaker, Eighteenth and I streets, formerly the Whitney home, where Mrs. McKee and President Harrison’s household had gone early in the day. Here, too, all of the retiring Cabinet and the prominent Republican officials were guests at an elaborate farewell banquet and reception. From this General Harrison and Mrs. McKee went to the special train for Pittsburgh, where they were invited to visit before returning to Indianapolis.
Great interest was manifested in Baby McKee’s successor, Ruth Cleveland. The night following her father’s installation, she was taken seriously ill, but soon recovered. Mrs. Cleveland found her problems multiplying rapidly regarding the care of her baby girl. The general public visiting the White House seemed to regard the President’s child as part of the establishment. Mrs. Cleveland was horrified one morning on glancing out of the window to see her baby being handed from one to another of a group of about twenty tourists. Against their eagerness to fondle the baby the nurse was helpless. Upon another occasion, a determined visitor had to be prevented by force from snipping a lock of the baby’s hair as she passed through the corridor of the White House in her nurse’s arms. Then the President and his wife decided that, for the protection and safety of their child, the gates of the grounds must be kept closed and locked. This order was received with great indignation and considerable protest, and Mrs. Cleveland suffered much perturbation and annoyance in consequence, especially when it was boldly asserted that her little girl was a deaf mute, was deficient in faculties, or otherwise afflicted, so that her parents wished to keep her affliction from public attention. One day, while receiving a delegation in the latter part of the administration, Mrs. Cleveland saw Ruth pass the door. She called to her to come in and let the ladies see that she was not minus arms, legs, or fingers.
With the family installed, President Cleveland and his wife readily settled to their respective tasks. Mrs. Cleveland slipped into place as easily as if she had never left it, and began again her regular Saturday afternoon receptions, which had become so popular in the first term. The President also resumed his semi-weekly public receptions, which he came to enjoy so much, since it gave him the opportunity to meet people and talk to those who wished to talk to him.
The selection of the Cabinet was a momentous task. The group finally comprised the following: Secretary of State, Walter Q. Gresham of Illinois; Secretary of the Treasury, John G. Carlisle of Kentucky; Secretary of War, Daniel S. Lamont of New York; Attorney General, Richard Olney of Massachusetts; Postmaster General, Wilson S. Bissell of New York; Secretary of the Navy, Hilary A. Herbert of Alabama; Secretary of the Interior, Hoke Smith of Georgia; Secretary of Agriculture, Julius Sterling Morton of Nebraska.
This was regarded as a good Cabinet, though not so strong as the President’s first one.
The issues brought forth so prominently in the campaign now thrust themselves forward for attention; almost immediately came rumblings of the impending money panic. Naturally, the trouble-making came from both Republican and Populist ranks.
In the spring of 1893, on May 1st, President Cleveland opened the great World’s Columbian Exposition, commemorating the five hundredth anniversary of the discovery of America by Columbus. It continued for six months. The exhibits displayed were a demonstration of the world’s progress in arts, industries, inventions, and natural products. To it came distinguished tourists from all over the world, and notwithstanding the money depression, twenty-seven million people were admitted to the exposition.
The money stringency, which the Democrats attributed to the Republican extravagance of the previous administration in the great increase of pensioners, which they claim was not offset by the McKinley Tariff Protection Law, increased as firms failed and industries closed their shops. In addition to a growing army of unemployed came coal-mine and railroad strikes.
The nation was brought to the point where the integrity of the dollar, whether greenback, silver, or gold, had to be maintained. President Cleveland determined to maintain the gold reserve, for he was convinced that the safety of the nation depended upon it, and therefore sold bonds to keep up the reserve. The President also called a special session of Congress, which repealed the Sherman Silver Purchase and Coinage Act of 1890, as he was satisfied that the purchasing of the silver was harmful to the nation’s best interests.
This move, unpopular from the Southern and Western points of view, naturally put a stop to further buying of silver in huge quantities and also checked the mintage of silver dollars.
President Cleveland’s second administration found him with a different attitude toward the purely social features of his position. In the beginning of his Presidency, he had been more or less impatient at the necessity for devoting valuable time to receptions. By the time he had watched his charming wife handle the vast crowds that clamoured to see her, he caught a new meaning from the contact of the masses with their Chief Magistrate and First Lady and adapted himself to enjoy the people. He was particular that no one should be crowded out or rushed through, and soon made it a rule to give his whole attention for the brief part of the minute of his contact to the person before him. He cultivated appropriate responses, and as he began to enjoy these daily handshaking periods, he responded to greetings with a spontaneity that evidenced his pleasure and also made him seem more the friendly man than the exalted exclusive leader. Should, for instance, a man in passing, ask, “Where is Mrs. Cleveland? Why isn’t she here too?” instantly, with the twinkle of the eye and the smile his friends loved, he would answer, “Why, somebody might carry her off.”
Mrs. Cleveland and the President drove together most pleasant afternoons. Their equipages were more pretentious than those of any of their predecessors, and were the latest and best examples of carriage building. Five handsome vehicles made up the presidential stable equipment—a black landau with green trimmings that had cost $2,000; a smart brougham, whose value was $1,000; a victoria; also a phaëton that had been made to order at a cost of $1,000, with a coachman’s rumble behind; and a surrey. This last was most used by the President.
In the stables were four handsome bays, two for Mrs. Cleveland’s use and two for the President’s; sometimes, upon very special occasions, such as parades, the whole four would be driven together.
Among the interesting visitors to the United States during the winter and spring of 1893 was the eighteen-year-old Hawaiian princess, Kaiulani, who came with her guardian and his family to seek the aid of the United States in her behalf. Mr. and Mrs. Davis established themselves, their ward, their daughter, and secretaries at the Arlington Hotel. The youthful princess had been educated in England and therefore knew our language. She was a tall girl, pretty and graceful, with excellent taste in dress, and was greatly admired at the inaugural ball. During her visit she received much flattering attention. Mrs. Cleveland was impressed with her and extended various courtesies, formal and informal, to her. And considerable sympathy was expressed in her effort to accede to the Hawaiian throne, from which the Hawaiian people had deposed her aunt, Lilioukulani, in 1891.
Upon the departure of the Princess and her retinue for Europe, she sent a letter of appreciation through the press:
March, 1893.
To the American People:
Before I leave this land I want to thank all those whose kindness has made my visit such a happy one. Not only the hundreds of hands I have clasped nor the kind smiles I have seen, but the written words of sympathy that have been sent me from so many homes, have made me feel that whatever happens to me I shall never be a stranger to you again. It was to the American people I spoke, and they have heard me, as I knew they would, and now God bless you for it, from the beautiful home where your fair First Lady reigns to the dear crippled boy who sent me his loving letter and prayer.
Kaiulani.
However, her hopes for a throne were destined to disappointment. The United States sent a commissioner over to Hawaii about the time the Princess left; the Republic of Hawaii was proclaimed on July 4, 1894. Then annexation to the United States was sought and later achieved through a treaty of annexation passed by Congress in 1898.
The announcement early in 1893 that the Princess Infanta Eulalie, aunt of the small King of Spain (the present King was then about seven years of age), was coming with her husband, Prince Antoine d’Orleans, and a large suite of Spanish grandees to visit the World’s Columbian Exposition as an honour guest representing the Queen Regent of Spain, created considerable excitement. Much diplomatic correspondence was necessary before the details of her official reception by the President were satisfactorily settled. The difficulty was due to the lack of tact exhibited by Señor Maraugo in expressing the wishes of the President, who had no desire or intention whatever to omit any courtesy due the Royal Infanta that was consistent with our Republican form of government. The minister had allowed his fear that the President would fail in proper ceremony to become apparent, and in his anxiety to surround the Princess with the full panoply of her rank, had overlooked wholly the importance and prestige due to the President of the United States.
The Infanta arrived in New York May 19th and was received with a great display of ceremony by the Spanish Consul and the officers of the Spanish war vessels in New York.
When the Princess arrived in Washington, she was met by Secretary of State W. G. Gresham and Colonel J. M. Wilson, U. S. A., Master of Ceremonies and Social Functions at the White House. Two troops of cavalry from Fort Myer, under command of Colonel Guy V. Henry, had been detailed to escort her to the Arlington Hotel annex, which, cut off from the rest of the hotel, had been set aside with all of its three floors of rooms for the use of the Infanta and her suite of nineteen persons. The annex had at one time been the elegant private residence of Charles Sumner, and only after his death had been bought and added to the hotel property. It had just been redecorated and furnished.
Very shortly after the arrival, the Infanta, with her party, was escorted to the White House, where President and Mrs. Cleveland awaited her.
At the conclusion of the fifteen-minute call, the President escorted his visitor to the door and watched her departure—a full concession to her royalty.
In the afternoon of the same day, the Infanta received a call from Mrs. Cleveland, accompanied by Mrs. Carlisle, Mrs. Lamont, and other ladies of the Cabinet.
A crowd hung about the Arlington and occupied every bench seat in Lafayette Square to get a close glimpse of this bit of elegant pageantry from the Old World.
On the 24th of May, the President and Mrs. Cleveland gave the first state dinner of their administration. It was in honour of the Princess and her party. Thirty-six guests were seated in the state dining room. Just a little while before the arrival of the guests, a small tempest swept over the city. Though brief, it was violent, and during its outburst carried off the strip of carpet placed across the portico of the White House to the carriage steps.
At this function the new Cabinet met for the first time; at the dinner to them on the evening of March 4th their appointments had not yet been confirmed, and some of the wives had not been present. Here, too, were entirely new doorkeepers, new ushers, a new steward, and new servants, Mrs. Cleveland having brought from New York all of the staff within her province to engage. She had, however, retained Miss Josephine Kniep the housekeeper the Harrisons had valued so highly.
Mrs. Cleveland’s artistic taste had been given full scope in the floral arrangement. The long historic mirror in the centre of the table reflected the beauty of the two Spanish flags made of red and yellow roses that rested against each other with their staffs of scarlet geraniums. The flower stands held red and yellow roses, the tapers had red and yellow shades; and these colours were also carried out in the tints of ices, sweets, and bonbons.
After the royal visitors were presented to all of the assembled guests, the party, being seated with punctilious observance of State Department rules of precedence, did full justice to a ten-course dinner with its full complement of wines. At Mrs. Cleveland’s place there was just an apollinaris tumbler.
Mrs. Cleveland was particularly charming and lovely in her gown of blue embroidered crêpe, made in a modified empire style, with the fashionable puffed sleeve; a pleated fall of lace finished the neck. A diamond flower spray in her hair was especially attractive and a beautiful star of these jewels adorned her bodice.
The Princess wore a court gown of white satin brocaded in rosebud stripes. Her skirt, with many gores, was full, and the train long; the whole lower part of the skirt was bordered with a ruffle of lace caught with bunches of wild roses. The bodice was low and was distinctive, since it had no sleeves, the lace and flower trimming making a band over the shoulders. Her jewels were superb—diamonds and emeralds of prodigious size and brilliance, and in a quantity to be deserving of the judgment that they were worth a king’s ransom.
The guests at the state dinner comprised the Cabinet, the members of the Supreme Court and their wives, General and Mrs. Schofield, the Spanish Minister, Senator Sherman, and Mrs. Harriet Land Johnston. The boutonnières for the gentlemen were yellow orchids, while a cluster of American Beauty roses was provided for each lady. Place cards were long Spanish flags with their staffs tied with the Spanish colours.
No private calls were received by the Infanta—only those of an official nature. According to the custom followed abroad, a book was kept at the ladies’ entrance of the hotel. All persons entitled to call were requested to inscribe their names therein. This was considered a call, since visiting cards were not left for royalty. Upon the cover of this was embossed in gold letters: “Infantes Du Antonio y Da Eulalia.”
When the party had first arrived, a small Spanish lad who had been a stowaway on the ship joined it. Despite his being rebuked, he made his way to Washington, and when the matter was brought to the Princess’s attention, she laughed and, to the boy’s great joy, ordered him put in uniform and attached to her suite.
After almost a week of charming attentions and delightful experience, the royal party departed for New York and Chicago, the crowd keeping a close vigil until the last of the one hundred and two pieces of baggage had been carried off to the station.
The Infanta’s reception in the United States throughout her stay brought forth her warm praise.
Photo. by Clinedinst Studio, Washington, D. C.
THE INAUGURATION OF GROVER CLEVELAND
In September, the White House nursery had another occupant, with the birth of another little daughter, Esther. Much of Mrs. Cleveland’s time had been occupied in making many of the dainty little garments after she had withdrawn herself from social affairs for the summer months.
While the general public was deeply interested in Ruth Cleveland, she did not command the same degree of enthusiasm as was showered on her little sister Esther, since Esther was a real White House baby, the ninth child born under that famous roof, just as her mother was the ninth White House bride. These facts gave the people of the country a proprietary feeling toward this mite of humanity, and resulted in a deluge of gifts of all kinds and degrees of loveliness and value. In fact, not only America, but England, France, Germany, Russia, all not only sent messages to the babe and her lovely mother, but followed up their missives of greeting with gifts, until a huge supply had accumulated. There were dainty white furs from the Far North, linens from the cloisters of Spain, dresses, christening robes, sacks, socks, robes, booties of wool, of kid, and of chamois, bibs, wee bits of baby jewellery—everything a baby needs multiplied many times. A room overflowed with toys, and one paper of the time, in describing the deluge, insisted that there were enough cradles, cribs, and carriages for a full score of babies, and toys enough for an asylum.
The day Esther was born, the President received informally the young Japanese Prince Yorihato Komatsu, the grand-nephew of the Mikado, who was travelling around the world incognito.
One of the events in which Washington was greatly interested was the one hundredth anniversary of the laying of the corner stone of the United States Capitol, which occurred on September 18, 1893. The celebration started with the ringing of the centennial chime, after which there was a procession, and other features by civic organizations as nearly like those of a hundred years ago as the changed conditions would permit. William Wirt Henry, a grandson of Patrick Henry, was one of the speakers.
The prevalence of hard times and the growing numbers of unemployed brought to pass the assembling of “armies” in all parts of the country. The first of these aggregations of unemployed, led by a horse dealer named Coxey, set out for Washington from Ohio to demand relief from the government. Other armies with the same object started from the Western Coast states and from Texas, numbering in all about six thousand men. Many of them were honest and sincerely desired work. Others were toughs who joined for a lark and followed what seemed to promise adventure. Still others were plain everyday tramps and loafers and criminals. They begged for food, and when it was not forthcoming they foraged; and when they grew tired of marching, they simply boarded trains and rode. Coxey reached Washington, mounted the steps of the Capitol, made addresses, and hung around the city for a while. His “army” camped near by from April 26 to May 1, 1894. Its presence necessitated the increasing of the White House Guard from twelve to twenty-six men. As long as no open act of lawlessness and disorder was committed, Coxey and his followers were unmolested; they wearied of their futile task and disbanded without accomplishing anything.
Soon afterward, in the city of Chicago, a strike occurred. Two thousand workmen employed by the Pullman Car Company decided they must have higher wages. Men on some of the Western roads also struck out of sympathy for the Pullman workers, deciding they would not work to help in the use or operation of the trains until the Pullman workers got their desired raise. They carried the determined stand so far that, for a time, not a train was running between San Francisco and Chicago.
On June 28th, the American Railway Union, directed by Eugene Debs, declared a boycott on all Pullman cars, thereby tying up all railroads west of Chicago hauling these cars. The next day, the United States Court at Chicago issued an injunction against the strikers, as the mails were prevented from proceeding. When it was brought to the President’s attention that the governor of the State of Illinois either could not or would not take steps to break the strike, he made the cryptic statement, “I will call out the whole army, if necessary, to deliver a postcard.”
Those who knew President Cleveland and his unfaltering determination in the pursuit of duty were satisfied that he would bring the strike to an end.
Major General Miles, then in command of the Missouri, with headquarters in Chicago, brought the news to the President that the city was at the mercy of the mobs, and the seriousness of the situation was intensified by the fact that there was more than twenty million dollars in the Sub-Treasury, a fact that was generally known. The food supplies in the East were jeopardized, especially if the strike were to extend eastward. The President lost no time in ordering the United States troops to the spot. The strike leaders were arrested and communication between them and their henchmen prevented; so the strikers disbanded and went back to work, and the strike collapsed. The relief over the settlement of the trouble may be appreciated when it is realized that a mob of ten thousand men were idle in Chicago alone and that the traffic blockade extended from Illinois through Indiana, Iowa, Missouri, North Dakota, Montana, Oregon, Washington, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, California, New Mexico, and Nebraska.
During this administration it was found expedient to abandon the Force Act. As the country had gradually stabilized and state governments had become efficient, Federal troops were not required to be present at state elections, and the Force Act, providing for such measures when needed, was repealed.
The first year of the second administration was certainly a trying one for the Executive, since, while directing his energies to controlling and conquering a host of problems at home, the nation became involved in another dispute with England over the Behring Sea and seal hunting. Past experience had proved the wisdom of referring such matters of foreign disagreement to a commission. The same policy was followed, and a commission of seven prominent men was chosen by the United States, England, France, Italy, Norway, and Sweden to adjust the matter of contention. An amicable settlement resulted, which provided that the Behring Sea should remain open, but that seals should be protected against indiscriminate killing.
Many have declared Cleveland’s act in regard to the Venezuelan matter the most important of his administration. For a number of years, the boundary line between New Guinea and Venezuela had been a matter of dispute and contention. Venezuela finally appealed to the United States to use her influence to induce Great Britain to submit the matter to arbitration. The idea was not favourably received by the British Government.
President Cleveland’s ideas on the matter began to clarify, and he sent a message to Congress December 17, 1895, accompanied by all of the correspondence in the case, and recommended the appointment of a commission to determine the actual boundary. His message intimated that the United States would enforce the decision. Congress followed the President’s lead; the commission was appointed, but before it had completed the task assigned, England had come to an agreement with Venezuela, a joint board of arbitration having been appointed. Although the President received a great deal of criticism for his application of the Monroe Doctrine, the country’s prestige was much increased.
President Cleveland stood firm for Civil Service reform, which had always been one of his hobbies, and before his term closed, about half of all offices of the government were already under Civil Service and filled by competitive examinations, instead of being parcelled out as political patronage.
After a long and bitter struggle, Congress enacted a tariff measure, a modified form of the Wilson Tariff. This reduced protective duties about one fourth and admitted free lumber, wool, and salt. It also condemned trusts.
The public was always interested in the Cleveland babies, and spontaneous congratulations, greetings, and gifts poured in when it was known that the stork had paid a visit to Gray Gables in July of 1895, leaving another small daughter, upon whom was conferred the name of Marian. By this time, little Ruth was finding her busy father a fine playfellow, and many good times they had drawing pictures and making things together in his office when his day’s work was done.
The people of the South had planned an exhibition. It was called “Cotton States and International Exhibition,” and was opened in September, 1895, by the pressure of the electric button by the tiny finger of the newest White House baby, Marian. Thus from the gun room of her father’s charming house, Gray Gables, on Massachusetts Bay, the two-months-old infant set all of the wheels revolving to open the exposition. Great gates and doors swung wide; machinery started buzzing; and with the boom of the cannon and the sound of the shrill whistles, the activities of the great exposition were set in motion.
With the admission of Utah in 1896, the number of states was forty-five.
Li Hung Chang, Chinese statesman, commander-in-chief of all forces in the war with Japan, and originator of the Chinese Navy, on a tour of the world, came to visit the United States, August 28, 1896. He was received by President Cleveland the following day. The original comments and pertinent queries he made while here were the source of much amusement.
Mrs. Cleveland’s last season in Washington was as gay as her manifold duties would permit. Three babies are a full measure of responsibility even for a mother aided by the best nurses procurable. One of her long-discussed functions was a luncheon for forty-eight guests for her husband’s sister, Miss Rose Cleveland. This was most elaborate and elegant.
The last Christmas in their administration was a gay one for the children. Three little stockings were hung on the chimney shelf. There were many gay parties with the Lamont children and other little folk of the Cabinet household, and a whole room filled to its utmost capacity with wonderful gifts and toys.
Though the eyes of the nation were already turning toward the future occupants so soon to be installed in the White House, public interest in the Clevelands had not diminished. Mrs. Cleveland’s New Year reception of 1897 and the evening reception which followed were attended by the largest throngs ever known. People seemed just to realize she was leaving the White House, and they were anxious to see and speak with her. Many brought their children, impressing upon them the impending departure of the sweet wholesome lady who gave another opportunity to shake her hand to those who had been too confused to do so when they first passed. Great numbers of guests crowded also to the last of the Saturday afternoon receptions. These delightful affairs for the public ceased with Mrs. Cleveland’s departure, and since her régime, there have been no affairs for the public save the New Year receptions.
From Helen Nicolay’s pen this description of one of Mrs. Cleveland’s farewell “crushes” is taken in part:
“A little before three o’clock Mrs. Cleveland entered on the arm of Colonel Wilson, and took her place in the improvised passageway, near the northern door leading from the Red into the Blue Room. Colonel Wilson stood between her and the door.
“Then the doors were opened and the real reception began, when for two hours people of high and low degree, white and black passed through the room at the rate of twenty-five a minute. Mrs. Cleveland had a smile and a hearty handshake for each one, and her quick wit and gracious tact were exercised to the utmost in kindly deeds. The little woman, for instance, who was so absorbed in gazing at her hostess’s beautiful face that she missed the outstretched hand was given another chance, after she had quite passed on; and the children were greeted with special kindness. There were touchingly many children: little ones in arms, toddlers almost as small, who seemed in danger of being trampled underfoot, but who had been brought because it was Mrs. Cleveland’s last reception and in after years they would be proud to have seen and touched the hand of this most popular mistress of the White House.
“Women of course made up by far the larger part of the crowd. Many were evidently ‘flustered’ and passed on with set smile and lowered eyelids, hardly seeing the President’s wife at all. Others seemed trying to photograph her face in their memory. The men were more inclined to stop and make little speeches to the First Lady of the Land; they cared not one whit what she wore. But the young officer standing opposite laid a warning hand on the arm of each who wished to linger, and urged him on. Sometimes a rather vigorous push was necessary to start the procession again. A few coloured people came through, both men and women, more men possibly than women. One regular Topsy of a servant girl, black, undersized, in battered straw sailor, twisted into shapes that only a coloured Topsy’s hat can assume, with tattered apron and faded clothes, walked down the line, gleams of such exultant daring and satisfied desire illuminating the look she rolled over the daintily clad ladies behind Mrs. Cleveland, that it seemed a whole revelation of character, and a volume of race history besides. Toward the end of the reception two Indians added their characteristic features to the throng.
“Occasionally the stream would be held back for a moment or two, that she might rest, and she would turn, a little breathless, to lean on the back of the sofa and survey the group of people behind her, with bright nods to this and that acquaintance. During one of these intervals she showed her shapely ungloved right hand to a lady standing near. It was literally black with the contact, but as she regarded it with an amused smile she asserted that she was not at all tired. Three hours of such exercise might make her so, two hours never did.
“At five o’clock Mrs. Cleveland again took Colonel Wilson’s arm, and followed by the Cabinet ladies, proceeded to the dining room. There the ladies from behind the line, and such as had been personally invited to stay, joined them. A round table was set with tea things, red roses, fancy cakes, and the gold spoons of the state dinner service. Chairs were placed in two or three rows around the sides of the room, and Mrs. Cleveland begged us all to be seated. The company broke up into little groups, when tea and ices were served, Mrs. Cleveland being helped first. She then moved about, cup in hand, from group to group, sitting and chatting a few moments with each.
“It made a picture long to be remembered—the square room with its airy buff-tinted walls, and sideboard set with historic china and silver, the dainty table, the groups of attractive women in dresses as many-tinted as a garden of flowers; the gay pinks, greens, cherry, blues, and whites subdued to just the right proportion by those of gray and black and rich dull colours; and moving about among them, Mrs. Cleveland in her lavender gown, by far the most beautiful woman there, and as wholesome and sweet and natural as the violets at her belt.”
The ladies of the Cabinet, learning of Mrs. Cleveland’s love for the “true blue” of the turquoise, presented her with an exquisite ring set with this gem as a parting gift of affection.
She set the mansion in order for Mrs. McKinley and departed with her little folks to get the new home at Princeton ready for her husband, who, with the burden of state lifted from his shoulders, joined a party of friends for a restful cruise and fishing trip before joining her. Achievement was writ large upon Grover Cleveland’s presidential history page. He laboured long and arduously for the welfare of the nation, most of the time under the strain of great criticism, but he discharged his duties in a way that, as time goes on, adds greater lustre to his name.
Upon his retirement, Cleveland sought a quiet life in the university town where he was actively associated with the college. He maintained an interest in various financial enterprises and, for the first time in his busy life, indulged in his favourite pastimes of hunting and fishing with a group of old friends and acquaintances among whom was Joseph Jefferson, the actor. Those who doubt the charm and humour of Mr. Cleveland’s conversations should read his fishing and duck-hunting stories. Most of all he enjoyed his young family, two sons being born within a few years of his retirement. He was an interested and sympathetic adviser in Mrs. Cleveland’s many activities, especially her promotion of kindergartens.
Many civic honours came to him. He died at his home in Princeton June 24, 1908, and was buried in the Princeton Cemetery.