White House gossip

by Edna M. Colman

This position was to his liking, and he reluctantly turned his face to Washington for the inauguration of March 4, 1865.

Much has been written of Andrew Johnson’s words and deeds, but detailed descriptions of his appearance, habits, and personal characteristics have not been either prolific or expansive.

The descriptions written of him by his various secretaries are perhaps the most dependable, since these men had the advantage of seeing him at all times under all conditions of mental stress and calm, in his moments of relaxation and under the irritation of attack.

He possessed neither the physique nor the temperament to inspire admiration or win friends. His life struggle had been too severe, and all that he had gained had exacted a heavy toll. He was in constant physical pain, with an ailment of long duration that caused him so much suffering at times that he stood for hours to gain relief. In his features, as a result, had come a grim severity of expression, forbidding and repelling. It impregnated the atmosphere about him and gave him the morose irritability that his many anxieties accentuated. His nerve tension was so great at times that even audible laughter annoyed him.

To offset this, his speech was courteous and suave and kindly, his manner distant. Fred Cowan, who served as one of his secretaries at the White House, said in his reminiscences that he never saw the President smile but once in more than two years; nor did he ever see him relax from the austere dignity which encased him like an armour. He greeted friends with the pleasure showing in his face. A deep-cut line or wrinkle took the place of a smile. The sorrows of his private life, the loss of one son, the weakness of another, the perpetual illness of his wife were heavy upon him.

The arrival of the President’s family in June brought him great pleasure and was a source of delight to the White House.

There were in the party Mrs. Johnson, Colonel Robert Johnson, who assisted his father in a secretarial capacity, Mrs. David Patterson, eldest daughter, wife of Senator Patterson with her two children, Mary Belle and Andrew J.; Mrs. Stover, second daughter of the President, and the three little Stovers, Sarah, Lettie, and Andrew J.; and last but not least important, the President’s youngest son, Andrew Johnson, Jr., a lad of fourteen years.

Naturally, all attention was turned upon the new First Lady of the Land and her daughter. Mrs. Johnson, from the beginning, took no active part in the direction of affairs. All matters were delegated to Mrs. Patterson and to Mrs. Stover. According to Colonel Wm. W. Crook, whose service in the mansion extended over a period of thirty years, Mrs. Johnson was a small, fragile woman afflicted with old-fashioned consumption, exceedingly pleasant and thoughtful, but very dignified. Owing to her long illness, she was weak and emaciated, and was obliged to walk very slowly.

Mrs. Johnson appeared at but three functions during her entire residence at the White House, and seldom came to breakfast, spending most of her time in her room in a little rocking chair with her needlework and a book. She kept abreast of the times and had decided literary tastes, preferring serious books to fiction. Her husband had long since learned to respect her opinion and to value her judgment. Her influence with him was greater than that of any one else.

Mrs. Patterson was very like her father; they were thoroughly in accord and congenial. She understood his disposition and at once applied herself to the task of turning a much disorganized and dishevelled establishment into an orderly household. The entire atmosphere of the place had changed with the arrival of the troop of five lively youngsters, who adored their grandfather and grandmother, and who raced pell-mell, whooping like Indians, through the corridors and halls. Andrew Johnson, Jr., was put into public school and a competent teacher engaged to come to the White House every morning for the grandchildren.