Breakfast in the White House from time immemorial has been a social family gathering, and generally takes place about nine o'clock. After this the President's wife usually goes for a drive, during which she attends to any personal shopping, either visiting the shops herself or sending in her maid with orders, and it is one of the unwritten laws, closely adhered to, that every item purchased shall be scrupulously and promptly paid for—the system of "patronage" so extensively adopted in many foreign countries not holding good, thank fortune, in our republican government. Unless she especially desires to do so, the President's wife makes no calls, one rule of the administration being the blessed one which prohibits her returning any visits. She is therefore free from the terrible social bore and strain—a round of formal calls. Returning from her morning drive, she may be called upon to receive some guest who is invited to luncheon.
The methods of approaching the mistress of the White House or its ladies are pre-eminently simple. If the visitor has a special introduction, he or she can send this by messenger, receiving an answer through one of the President's secretaries. Generally a day and hour will be fixed for the guest to call at the White House, when he or she will be received as in any other mansion, the degree of formality being regulated by that of the introduction. An invitation to luncheon or dinner may follow—possibly to some afternoon drive or theatre party. On levee days some of the ladies of the cabinet, or it may be wives of special members of the Senate or Congress, the army or navy, etc., receive with the President's wife, relieving her in part of the fatigue of these weekly ceremonials. However, it is all so smoothly and agreeably managed that in the course of many administrations the complaints of lack of courtesy have been very few.
MRS. CLEVELAND'S DRAWING-ROOM.
As I have said, the White House is replete with historic and romantic interest. On October 13, 1792, its cornerstone was laid with Masonic ceremonies, and seven years passed before its completion. The original plan called for three stories, but the public raised the cry of economy, and it was cut down to two stories and basement. The entire expense of building the White House, including furnishings, repairs, etc., up to the year 1814, amounted to the small sum of $334,000.
It was first occupied just ninety-six years ago by President John Adams, and various were the struggles to keep it in even ordinary repair. Mrs. Adams, its first mistress, was dissatisfied with the place, and her complaints were varied and numerous. She wrote that "the rooms were large and barren, and that it took a great deal of money to keep them in proper order. Everything is on too grand a scale." It is amusing to know that this lady used what is now called the great state drawing-room to dry the family linen in, stretching the clothes-lines from one wall to another.
A RECEPTION IN THE WHITE HOUSE.
After the decisive battle fought at Bladensburg, Maryland, in the war of 1812, the British advanced upon Washington. President Madison was in the rear of the American lines, and seeing that the city was lost, he sent word to his wife to escape. That noble lady's first thought was to save Stuart's celebrated oil portrait of George Washington, which hung in the White House. Hastening to the room, she had it taken from the wall and carried to the retreating ranks of the American army, thus saving for the republic one of its greatest art treasures. It was during this invasion that the White House obtained its name from the coat of white paint applied to its surface after the burning of its main building. Numberless suggestions have been made to enlarge the official residence, but the public objected. Its present occupation, doubtless, will end with the close of the century and its hundred years of life, since the needs and demands of the President's family and the public have outgrown its proportions and capacity. But it will forever be associated with all that has made our nation important. Tragedy has gone hand in hand with festivity within its walls more than once. The great men of the country have sat in its rooms in grimmest council, when the fate of the nation hung in the balance of a decision that sent a messenger at daybreak flying from the White House gates. Twice its doors have opened to receive a murdered President, and again the joy bells have rung to honor a bride, and a child born in its "purple," yet who lived to toil for her daily bread far from friends and home. It cannot be parted with or even altered carelessly, yet unquestionably its fate is sealed. With the close of the century its story of a hundred years will be told.