The most famous building in Washington, though one of the least
pretentious, is the Executive Mansion, popularly known as the "White
House," being constructed, like the older part of the Capitol, of
freestone, and painted white. It stands within a park at some distance
back from the street, a semicircular driveway leading up to the Ionic
colonnade supporting the front central portico. It is a plain
building, without pretensions in anything but its august occupancy,
and the ornamental grounds stretch down to the Potomac River, which
flows about two hundred yards below its southern front. It is two
stories high, about one hundred and seventy feet long, and eighty-six
feet deep. This building, like the Capitol, was burnt in the British
invasion of 1814 and afterwards restored. Unlike the nation, or the
enormous public buildings that surround and dwarf it, the White House
has in no sense grown, but remains as it was designed in the lifetime
of Washington. It is nevertheless a comfortable mansion, though rigid
in simplicity. The parlor of the house, the "East Room," is the finest
apartment, occupying the whole of that side, and is kept open for
visitors during most of the day. The public wander through it in
droves, walk upon the carpets and recline in the soft chairs, awaiting
the President's coming to his almost daily reception and handshaking;
for they greatly prize this joint occupancy, as it were, and close
communion with their highest ruler. This is an impressive room, and in
earlier times was the scene of various inauguration feasts, when
Presidents kept open house for their political friends and admirers.
The "East Room" was a famous entertainment hall in President Jackson's
time. On the evening of his inauguration day it was open to all
comers, who were served with orange punch and lemonade. The crowds
were large, and the punch was mixed in barrels, being brought in by
the bucketful, the thirsty throngs rushing after the waiters, and in
the turmoil upsetting the punch and ruining dresses and carpets. The
punch receptacles were finally taken out into the gardens, and in this
way the boisterous crowds were drawn off, and it became possible to
serve cake and wine to the ladies. Various traditions are still told
of this experience, and also of the monster cheese, as big as a
hogshead, that was served to the multitude at Jackson's farewell
reception. It was cut up with long saw-blades, and each guest was
given about a pound of cheese, this feast being the talk of the time.
Jackson's successor was Martin Van Buren, who came from New York, the
land of big cheeses. Being bound to emulate his predecessor, an even
larger cheese was sent him, and cut up in the "East Room." The crowds
trampled the greasy crumbs into the carpets and hangings, and all the
furniture and fittings were ruined. Now no guest comes unbidden to
dine at the White House; but the change in the fashion aided in
defeating Van Buren, who was a candidate for a second election in
1840. He stopped keeping open house in order to save the furniture and
get some peace, and during several months preceding the election many
persons arrived at the White House for breakfast or dinner and
threatened to vote against Van Buren unless they were entertained.
This, with the fact noised abroad that he had become such an
aristocrat that his table service included gold spoons, then an
unheard of extravagance, proved too much for him. Van Buren was beaten
for re-election by "Old Tippecanoe"--General William Henry Harrison.
A corridor leads westward from the "East Room," through the centre of
the White House, to the conservatories, which are prolonged nearly two
hundred feet farther westward. A series of fine apartments, called the
Green, Blue and Red Rooms, from the predominant colors in their
decorations, are south of this corridor, with their windows opening
upon the gardens. These apartments open into each other, and finally
into the State Dining Hall on the western side of the building, which
is adjoined by a conservatory. North of the corridor the first floor
contains the family rooms, and on the second floor are the
sleeping-rooms and also the public offices. The Cabinet Room, about in
the centre of the building, is a comparatively small apartment, where
the Cabinet meetings assemble around a long table. On one side of it,
at the head of a broad staircase, are the offices of the secretaries,
over the East Room; and on the other side, the President's private
apartment, which is called the Library. Here the President sits, with
the southern sun streaming through the windows, to give audience to
his visitors, who are passed in by the secretaries. One of the desks,
which is usually the President's personal work-table, has a history.
The British ship "Resolute," years ago, after many hardships in the
fruitless search for Sir John Franklin, had to be abandoned in the
Arctic seas. Portions of her oaken timbers were taken back to England,
and from these, by the Queen's command, the desk was made and
presented to President Grant, and it has since been part of the
furniture in the Library. An adjacent chamber, wherein the Prince of
Wales slept on his only visit to America, and the chamber adjoining,
are the two sleeping-rooms which have been usually occupied by the
greatest Presidents. The accommodations are so restricted, however,
that a movement is afoot for constructing another presidential
residence, on higher land in the suburbs, so that the White House may
be exclusively used for the executive offices.