Though the newspapers could not obtain her photograph, the correspondents made pen-pictures of herself and her home. One of them (writing to the Detroit Evening News) gave so pleasant a picture of her that it is reproduced in part. It was written shortly after the election:
“The historic orchard and pumpkin-fields were lying peacefully now under their snowy covering, and giving no signs of the recent scenes of devastation. Crossing the wide veranda, the solitary pilgrim rang the bell, and was ushered by a wonderfully patient-looking colored man-servant into the reception-room, although that is quite too formal a name to give a room combining such an air of comfort with its elegance; it is the emanation of an artist and a fireside genius in one, and you are not surprised to learn later that the mistress of the mansion is an artist of considerable skill. A royal grate-fire burns brightly at one end of the room, over which is a Queen Anne mantel, with cabinet photographs of Garfield and Arthur, painted candles, and numerous articles of bric-a-brac. At the opposite end of the apartment stands a fine upright piano, adorned with photographs of Hancock, Marshall Jewell and Ole Bull. Over this is a French picture in bright watercolors, on one side of which hangs a copy of Meissonier’s Napoleon, on the other a little landscape, painted and given her, Mrs. Garfield relates, by her old drawing teacher, of whom she tells some interesting reminiscences.
“The quiet tinted walls of the reception-room are further adorned with large portraits of the General and his mother, one of Alexander Campbell, the founder of the faith which Garfield indorses, and a number of other pieces, among them a copy of Miss Ransom’s ‘Hagar and her Son,’ from—‘let me see if I can remember the name,’ Mrs. Garfield said, turning the picture and spelling out the Italian name from a card on the back. ‘Miss Ransom put the card there so that I shouldn’t forget the name, because he was not one of the best known painters.’
“‘And this,’ pointing to a little gilt frame decorated with pansies, ‘was sent to the General by a little Vermont girl, her own work, and the verse inscribed on it was written for her by Whittier.’
“In this interest in her pictures and their histories Mrs. Garfield showed constantly the artistic element in her nature, as well as in a hundred touches about the rooms.
“A small-figured dark carpet covered the floor, a Smyrna rug lay before the fire, in the glow of which sat the famous grandmother, a quaint little figure, making with her snowy hair and cap, and her knitting-work, a fitting adjunct to an ‘interior’ charming enough for anybody’s pencil. There were easy-chairs and lounges, speaking of solid comfort, and a little centre-table piled up carelessly with all kinds of books, school-books, story-books, a gay-colored copy of Chic, a life of the President-elect, and ‘Bits of Talk,’ by H. H., being among them. And there were also upon that table—yes, actually, dear prim housekeepers—the well-known slouch hat of the General’s, and a roll of red flannel, with a thimble beside it.
“Everywhere—in every nook and corner—there are books. A case in the parlor contains editions of Waverley and Dickens, French history in the original, old English poets and dramatists richly bound in black and gold, and a choice collection of miscellaneous works; in the little hallway leading to the dining-room are books, and in the dining-room itself more books. The last is a cheery room with its handsome tiled mantle, open fire, pictures and shining silver. There is everywhere evidence of the dainty housekeeper.
“The pilgrim wandered out through the back regions of the house where the tin wash-basin and milk-cans, which were really seen, would no doubt be deemed objects of sacred interest to the enthusiastic adorer, and crossed over to the detached office, whose walls are lined with ponderous volumes, and where busy clerks and a peculiar hum of the wires gives one some idea of the work done there. A peculiarity of the telegraph wires running into General Garfield’s office is that the sound of Cleveland’s church bells is conveyed distinctly over them, thirty miles.
“Under a tree near the office was a spirited picture. The two youngest scions of the house and the great Newfoundland dog, all three in a state of frantic delight, were chasing a coon which had been sent the General by train that morning, a sample of the odd and incongruous quality of the presents which are showered upon the family. Returning to the parlor, the visitor found Mrs. Garfield seated before the fire, and received her pleasant and cordial consent to the sketching of her home for the benefit of the public, who have a natural and loyal interest in it. To those who would wish to see a brilliant society leader in the White House, Mrs. Garfield will perhaps be a disappointment; but those who have been led to think of her as a retiring, mere domestic woman, inadequate to the position, will also be disappointed. She is a lady of admirable self-poise, dignity and thorough culture, reserved yet affable, and with the distinguishing trait of genuineness. There is not a trace of affectation about her. A Mentor gentleman remarked, ‘There isn’t a family in town, apparently, so little set up by the situation as the Garfields.’
“When asked if she dreaded the coming responsibilities (so much has been said of her retiring nature), she said, slowly, with her brown eyes fixed thoughtfully on the fire: ‘Yes, in many ways; but it has always been my experience, so far, that one grows fitted for responsibility as it comes. My greatest fear is that the time will slip by, and when it is over I shall have it to look back to with regret for the many things that ought to have been done.’