President Hayes was addicted to the scrapbook habit. This was his method of keeping up with current information. One clerk was detailed to go through daily papers, clip and classify all news and information. The clippings were pasted in books under the subjects to which they belonged and were immediately available to the President’s call, whether his query related to cotton exports, international treaties, or the country’s finances.
Young Webb Hayes found his time pretty well occupied with a diversity of duties, as his mother clung to her old Ohio habit of filling the house with young ladies who had to be squired and beauxed on sight-seeing trips, and escorted constantly to social affairs. Often, when some impromptu expedition was gotten up, he had as many as eight girls to look after at one time. Asked recently how he managed this part of his White House job, Colonel Hayes merely shook his head, gave his Rooseveltian smile, and looked so reminiscent that it seemed even the illustrious example of Coolidge silence was in danger of being forgotten, and perhaps a delightful story of some of the romance of a twenty-year-old lad might be forthcoming—but it wasn’t.
Despite his dignity and responsibility, young Secretary Hayes could and did unbend when not on duty. He has been charged with learning to ride a bicycle in the East Room. Upon another occasion, when one of the young lady guests had a caller who stayed over long, he betook himself to the room above the Red Room, where the young people were chatting, and frightened them nearly to death by dropping the largest dictionary he could find on the floor just above their heads. Needless to add, the caller soon departed, and the young secretary was able to see the mansion closed for the night and get some much-needed rest.
Among the interesting festivities at the mansion was the celebration of the silver wedding of President and Mrs. Hayes, December 31, 1877, which was the first party of that kind ever held there. The halls and state apartments of the entire first floor were decorated with cut flowers, vines, and plants. Smilax was entwined about the great chandeliers of the East Room, which, by the way, had been put in during the previous administration at a cost of $1,800 each. They were made in Germany, and each of them contains 5,060 pieces of cut glass. Flags were also used wherever the touch of the national colours was desired.
The Cabinet and their families were the only official persons invited. Close friends in Washington and old friends from Ohio identified with the life of these two people, and a delegation of the Twenty-third Ohio Volunteer Infantry, which President Hayes had commanded, comprised the group of guests.
Promptly at nine o’clock, the Marine Band played Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, and the President, with his wife on his arm, came down the stairway, followed by members of their family and special guests. The little procession moved into the East Room, in front of the central window on the east side. Mrs. Hayes wore her wedding gown and slippers, and she admitted having been obliged to let out the seams. The gown was of white brocade, with the wide straight skirt in style at the time, trimmed with tulle and white silk fringe. Long white gloves met the short sleeves, and white slippers and the silver comb for her hair completed the bridal costume.
Mrs. Mitchell, the daughter of the President’s sister, stood beside Mrs. Hayes, as she had done when a little lass of eight at the original wedding. Reverend Dr. L. D. McCabe, the pastor of many years’ association and spiritual guidance, again gave the blessing. And this occasion, with the gathering of the lifetime friends, was made more remarkable by the christening of Fanny and Scott Russell Hayes and the six-weeks-old baby daughter of Mrs. Herron, the mother of Mrs. Taft, who had attended the original wedding. Her baby was named Lucy Hayes Herron.
No gifts were received. The President emphatically decreed against that, but one came from his old regiment so expressive of the regard of the men for their commander and his wife that it could not but be accepted and appreciated. It was a silver plate in an ebony frame inscribed: “To the Mother of the Regiment.”
Upon the plate was a sketch of the log hut which had been Colonel Hayes’s headquarters in the valley of the Kanawha, surrounded by tattered battle flags.
Soon the President led the way to the state dining room, where a sumptuous table presented all of the delicacies of the day and the best of the confectioner’s art.