SECOND ADMINISTRATION OF GROVER CLEVELAND
_March 4, 1893, to March 4, 1897_
Cleveland luck brought Grover Cleveland back to the White House in
March, 1893, to succeed the man who had defeated him at the end of
his first term, and whom he had in turn defeated also from succeeding
himself.
The “luck” did not extend its benign influence to propitiate the
elements, since, instead of the ideal day of sunshine and soft spring
zephyrs of his first term, he had to combat the discomforts of a cold,
wet snow with its chill and slush.
Fortune had been so liberal with her favours that he could discount
her fickleness in that respect, however, even though Democratic hosts
had assembled to celebrate their return to power with a brilliant and
gorgeous display.
Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland, with the addition of little Ruth Cleveland,
their seventeen-months-old daughter, reached Washington on March 3d,
going direct to the Arlington, where Mr. Lamont had engaged a suite for
them, and where old friends had gathered to greet them. They, like Vice
President-elect and Mrs. Stevenson, held a continuous reception.
Promptly at eleven fifty-five the President and the President-elect
departed for the Capitol, unaccompanied, in the only open carriage in
the pretentious procession that meant the eclipse of one leader and
the installation of the other.
After the ceremonies in the Senate, much pressure was brought to bear
upon Mr. Cleveland to abandon the idea of taking the oath out of doors.
He felt, however, that he owed it to the waiting thousands, patiently
standing, to let them see and hear him, and so he followed his previous
course, in tribute to Thomas Jefferson, of delivering his inaugural
address before the oath was administered by Chief Justice Fuller.
Among the many interested spectators of the ceremonies were Mrs.
Cleveland and Mrs. Stevenson, who braved the weather to hear their
husbands.
Following the ceremonies at the Capitol and the luncheon at the White
House, the new President took his position in the open reviewing stand,
where he stood for three hours as the pageant assembled in his honour
and marched past. Mrs. Cleveland reviewed the parade from a window over
a drug store on Fifteenth Street, where a party of her old friends had
gathered to be with her.
The procession was remarkable for its length, order, and appearance.
The distinguished and the well-known clubs and organizations
participating represented hosts of Democrats from coast to coast.
Governors of eleven states with their staffs participated; a
fine-looking group of students from Carlisle, and Tammany in all of
the paraphernalia of its origin, 3,400 strong, whom it had taken eight
trains to transport. All these, joined with 20,000 marchers, adherents,
and admirers of the new head of the nation, made a pageant long to be
remembered.
The Inaugural Committee had done valiant work in again preparing
the great Pension Building for the ball at which President and Mrs.
Cleveland arrived about nine o’clock. They were announced by the
Marine Band’s “Hail to the Chief.” Their tour of the ballroom gave
many scores of people the opportunity to see their Chief Executive and
the First Lady at close range, a privilege for which thousands had
travelled many miles and endured great discomforts. Mrs. Cleveland,
walking with Justice Gray, was all-inclusive in her smile and
greetings, but scores carried away the fond belief that she smiled just
at each of them. The President, escorted by General Schofield, radiated
pride and happiness. When they reached their own special reception
room, the Vice President and Mrs. Stevenson, with their daughters, were
the first to pay them respect. Here, too, came hosts of old friends to
extend congratulations and greetings.
Mrs. Cleveland’s dress was, of course, the observed of all observers.
Severe and simple in style, it was rich and graceful. Made of heavy
white satin with an empire front and tightly fitting back, the skirt
was carried out to a pointed train. It was trimmed with point lace and
crystal beads. The embroidery ran up in rows about twelve inches from
the edge of the skirt. The front was most elaborately embroidered with
crystal beads, while the huge puffs of the satin that made the sleeves
were dotted with the crystal. Stiff satin bows at the shoulders and a
heavy fall of the lace completed the corsage. She wore diamonds.
Mrs. Stevenson’s handsome gown was distinctive, being white moire
antique made in the style of 1830. It had a narrow binding of purple
velvet on the edge of the skirt and on the edge of the round low-necked
waist. Garlands of purple violets were arranged to fall over the
old-fashioned bertha of fine duchess lace. Puff sleeves of the velvet
reached to the elbow and were met by soft suède gloves of the same
shade. Mrs. Stevenson’s fan was a dainty affair of flowers, lace, and
ribbons in the same tints.
Adjoining the ballroom, a huge temporary structure had been constructed
on the north side as a kitchen. From this a local caterer supplied an
elaborate banquet to all who sought refreshments.
Part of the celebration, and one that from the beginning has been
popular in connection with inauguration ceremonies, was the unusually
beautiful pyrotechnic display.
While the Democratic chieftain and Mrs. Cleveland and all of their
followers were celebrating their victory, another charming function
was in progress in honour of Ex-President Harrison and Mrs. McKee, at
the home of Postmaster General Wanamaker, Eighteenth and I streets,
formerly the Whitney home, where Mrs. McKee and President Harrison’s
household had gone early in the day. Here, too, all of the retiring
Cabinet and the prominent Republican officials were guests at an
elaborate farewell banquet and reception. From this General Harrison
and Mrs. McKee went to the special train for Pittsburgh, where they
were invited to visit before returning to Indianapolis.
Great interest was manifested in Baby McKee’s successor, Ruth
Cleveland. The night following her father’s installation, she was taken
seriously ill, but soon recovered. Mrs. Cleveland found her problems
multiplying rapidly regarding the care of her baby girl. The general
public visiting the White House seemed to regard the President’s child
as part of the establishment. Mrs. Cleveland was horrified one morning
on glancing out of the window to see her baby being handed from one to
another of a group of about twenty tourists. Against their eagerness
to fondle the baby the nurse was helpless. Upon another occasion, a
determined visitor had to be prevented by force from snipping a lock
of the baby’s hair as she passed through the corridor of the White
House in her nurse’s arms. Then the President and his wife decided
that, for the protection and safety of their child, the gates of the
grounds must be kept closed and locked. This order was received with
great indignation and considerable protest, and Mrs. Cleveland suffered
much perturbation and annoyance in consequence, especially when it was
boldly asserted that her little girl was a deaf mute, was deficient
in faculties, or otherwise afflicted, so that her parents wished to
keep her affliction from public attention. One day, while receiving a
delegation in the latter part of the administration, Mrs. Cleveland saw
Ruth pass the door. She called to her to come in and let the ladies see
that she was not minus arms, legs, or fingers.
With the family installed, President Cleveland and his wife readily
settled to their respective tasks. Mrs. Cleveland slipped into place
as easily as if she had never left it, and began again her regular
Saturday afternoon receptions, which had become so popular in the first
term. The President also resumed his semi-weekly public receptions,
which he came to enjoy so much, since it gave him the opportunity to
meet people and talk to those who wished to talk to him.
The selection of the Cabinet was a momentous task. The group finally
comprised the following: Secretary of State, Walter Q. Gresham of
Illinois; Secretary of the Treasury, John G. Carlisle of Kentucky;
Secretary of War, Daniel S. Lamont of New York; Attorney General,
Richard Olney of Massachusetts; Postmaster General, Wilson S. Bissell
of New York; Secretary of the Navy, Hilary A. Herbert of Alabama;
Secretary of the Interior, Hoke Smith of Georgia; Secretary of
Agriculture, Julius Sterling Morton of Nebraska.
This was regarded as a good Cabinet, though not so strong as the
President’s first one.
The issues brought forth so prominently in the campaign now thrust
themselves forward for attention; almost immediately came rumblings of
the impending money panic. Naturally, the trouble-making came from both
Republican and Populist ranks.
In the spring of 1893, on May 1st, President Cleveland opened the
great World’s Columbian Exposition, commemorating the five hundredth
anniversary of the discovery of America by Columbus. It continued
for six months. The exhibits displayed were a demonstration of the
world’s progress in arts, industries, inventions, and natural products.
To it came distinguished tourists from all over the world, and
notwithstanding the money depression, twenty-seven million people were
admitted to the exposition.
The money stringency, which the Democrats attributed to the Republican
extravagance of the previous administration in the great increase of
pensioners, which they claim was not offset by the McKinley Tariff
Protection Law, increased as firms failed and industries closed their
shops. In addition to a growing army of unemployed came coal-mine and
railroad strikes.
The nation was brought to the point where the integrity of the dollar,
whether greenback, silver, or gold, had to be maintained. President
Cleveland determined to maintain the gold reserve, for he was convinced
that the safety of the nation depended upon it, and therefore sold
bonds to keep up the reserve. The President also called a special
session of Congress, which repealed the Sherman Silver Purchase and
Coinage Act of 1890, as he was satisfied that the purchasing of the
silver was harmful to the nation’s best interests.
This move, unpopular from the Southern and Western points of view,
naturally put a stop to further buying of silver in huge quantities
and also checked the mintage of silver dollars.
President Cleveland’s second administration found him with a different
attitude toward the purely social features of his position. In the
beginning of his Presidency, he had been more or less impatient at the
necessity for devoting valuable time to receptions. By the time he had
watched his charming wife handle the vast crowds that clamoured to
see her, he caught a new meaning from the contact of the masses with
their Chief Magistrate and First Lady and adapted himself to enjoy the
people. He was particular that no one should be crowded out or rushed
through, and soon made it a rule to give his whole attention for the
brief part of the minute of his contact to the person before him. He
cultivated appropriate responses, and as he began to enjoy these daily
handshaking periods, he responded to greetings with a spontaneity
that evidenced his pleasure and also made him seem more the friendly
man than the exalted exclusive leader. Should, for instance, a man
in passing, ask, “Where is Mrs. Cleveland? Why isn’t she here too?”
instantly, with the twinkle of the eye and the smile his friends loved,
he would answer, “Why, somebody might carry her off.”
Mrs. Cleveland and the President drove together most pleasant
afternoons. Their equipages were more pretentious than those of any of
their predecessors, and were the latest and best examples of carriage
building. Five handsome vehicles made up the presidential stable
equipment--a black landau with green trimmings that had cost $2,000; a
smart brougham, whose value was $1,000; a victoria; also a phaëton that
had been made to order at a cost of $1,000, with a coachman’s rumble
behind; and a surrey. This last was most used by the President.
In the stables were four handsome bays, two for Mrs. Cleveland’s use
and two for the President’s; sometimes, upon very special occasions,
such as parades, the whole four would be driven together.
Among the interesting visitors to the United States during the winter
and spring of 1893 was the eighteen-year-old Hawaiian princess,
Kaiulani, who came with her guardian and his family to seek the aid
of the United States in her behalf. Mr. and Mrs. Davis established
themselves, their ward, their daughter, and secretaries at the
Arlington Hotel. The youthful princess had been educated in England and
therefore knew our language. She was a tall girl, pretty and graceful,
with excellent taste in dress, and was greatly admired at the inaugural
ball. During her visit she received much flattering attention. Mrs.
Cleveland was impressed with her and extended various courtesies,
formal and informal, to her. And considerable sympathy was expressed in
her effort to accede to the Hawaiian throne, from which the Hawaiian
people had deposed her aunt, Lilioukulani, in 1891.
Upon the departure of the Princess and her retinue for Europe, she sent
a letter of appreciation through the press:
March, 1893.
TO THE AMERICAN PEOPLE:
Before I leave this land I want to thank all those whose kindness has
made my visit such a happy one. Not only the hundreds of hands I have
clasped nor the kind smiles I have seen, but the written words of
sympathy that have been sent me from so many homes, have made me feel
that whatever happens to me I shall never be a stranger to you again.
It was to the American people I spoke, and they have heard me, as I
knew they would, and now God bless you for it, from the beautiful home
where your fair First Lady reigns to the dear crippled boy who sent
me his loving letter and prayer.
KAIULANI.
However, her hopes for a throne were destined to disappointment. The
United States sent a commissioner over to Hawaii about the time the
Princess left; the Republic of Hawaii was proclaimed on July 4, 1894.
Then annexation to the United States was sought and later achieved
through a treaty of annexation passed by Congress in 1898.
The announcement early in 1893 that the Princess Infanta Eulalie, aunt
of the small King of Spain (the present King was then about seven
years of age), was coming with her husband, Prince Antoine d’Orleans,
and a large suite of Spanish grandees to visit the World’s Columbian
Exposition as an honour guest representing the Queen Regent of Spain,
created considerable excitement. Much diplomatic correspondence was
necessary before the details of her official reception by the President
were satisfactorily settled. The difficulty was due to the lack of tact
exhibited by Señor Maraugo in expressing the wishes of the President,
who had no desire or intention whatever to omit any courtesy due
the Royal Infanta that was consistent with our Republican form of
government. The minister had allowed his fear that the President would
fail in proper ceremony to become apparent, and in his anxiety to
surround the Princess with the full panoply of her rank, had overlooked
wholly the importance and prestige due to the President of the United
States.
The Infanta arrived in New York May 19th and was received with a great
display of ceremony by the Spanish Consul and the officers of the
Spanish war vessels in New York.
When the Princess arrived in Washington, she was met by Secretary of
State W. G. Gresham and Colonel J. M. Wilson, U. S. A., Master of
Ceremonies and Social Functions at the White House. Two troops of
cavalry from Fort Myer, under command of Colonel Guy V. Henry, had been
detailed to escort her to the Arlington Hotel annex, which, cut off
from the rest of the hotel, had been set aside with all of its three
floors of rooms for the use of the Infanta and her suite of nineteen
persons. The annex had at one time been the elegant private residence
of Charles Sumner, and only after his death had been bought and added
to the hotel property. It had just been redecorated and furnished.
Very shortly after the arrival, the Infanta, with her party, was
escorted to the White House, where President and Mrs. Cleveland awaited
her.
At the conclusion of the fifteen-minute call, the President escorted
his visitor to the door and watched her departure--a full concession to
her royalty.
In the afternoon of the same day, the Infanta received a call from Mrs.
Cleveland, accompanied by Mrs. Carlisle, Mrs. Lamont, and other ladies
of the Cabinet.
A crowd hung about the Arlington and occupied every bench seat in
Lafayette Square to get a close glimpse of this bit of elegant
pageantry from the Old World.
On the 24th of May, the President and Mrs. Cleveland gave the first
state dinner of their administration. It was in honour of the Princess
and her party. Thirty-six guests were seated in the state dining room.
Just a little while before the arrival of the guests, a small tempest
swept over the city. Though brief, it was violent, and during its
outburst carried off the strip of carpet placed across the portico of
the White House to the carriage steps.
At this function the new Cabinet met for the first time; at the dinner
to them on the evening of March 4th their appointments had not yet been
confirmed, and some of the wives had not been present. Here, too, were
entirely new doorkeepers, new ushers, a new steward, and new servants,
Mrs. Cleveland having brought from New York all of the staff within her
province to engage. She had, however, retained Miss Josephine Kniep the
housekeeper the Harrisons had valued so highly.
Mrs. Cleveland’s artistic taste had been given full scope in the floral
arrangement. The long historic mirror in the centre of the table
reflected the beauty of the two Spanish flags made of red and yellow
roses that rested against each other with their staffs of scarlet
geraniums. The flower stands held red and yellow roses, the tapers had
red and yellow shades; and these colours were also carried out in the
tints of ices, sweets, and bonbons.
After the royal visitors were presented to all of the assembled guests,
the party, being seated with punctilious observance of State Department
rules of precedence, did full justice to a ten-course dinner with its
full complement of wines. At Mrs. Cleveland’s place there was just an
apollinaris tumbler.
Mrs. Cleveland was particularly charming and lovely in her gown of
blue embroidered crêpe, made in a modified empire style, with the
fashionable puffed sleeve; a pleated fall of lace finished the neck.
A diamond flower spray in her hair was especially attractive and a
beautiful star of these jewels adorned her bodice.
The Princess wore a court gown of white satin brocaded in rosebud
stripes. Her skirt, with many gores, was full, and the train long; the
whole lower part of the skirt was bordered with a ruffle of lace caught
with bunches of wild roses. The bodice was low and was distinctive,
since it had no sleeves, the lace and flower trimming making a band
over the shoulders. Her jewels were superb--diamonds and emeralds of
prodigious size and brilliance, and in a quantity to be deserving of
the judgment that they were worth a king’s ransom.
The guests at the state dinner comprised the Cabinet, the members of
the Supreme Court and their wives, General and Mrs. Schofield, the
Spanish Minister, Senator Sherman, and Mrs. Harriet Land Johnston. The
boutonnières for the gentlemen were yellow orchids, while a cluster of
American Beauty roses was provided for each lady. Place cards were long
Spanish flags with their staffs tied with the Spanish colours.
No private calls were received by the Infanta--only those of an
official nature. According to the custom followed abroad, a book was
kept at the ladies’ entrance of the hotel. All persons entitled to call
were requested to inscribe their names therein. This was considered a
call, since visiting cards were not left for royalty. Upon the cover of
this was embossed in gold letters: “_Infantes Du Antonio y Da Eulalia._”
When the party had first arrived, a small Spanish lad who had been a
stowaway on the ship joined it. Despite his being rebuked, he made his
way to Washington, and when the matter was brought to the Princess’s
attention, she laughed and, to the boy’s great joy, ordered him put in
uniform and attached to her suite.
After almost a week of charming attentions and delightful experience,
the royal party departed for New York and Chicago, the crowd keeping a
close vigil until the last of the one hundred and two pieces of baggage
had been carried off to the station.
The Infanta’s reception in the United States throughout her stay
brought forth her warm praise.
[Illustration: _Photo. by Clinedinst Studio, Washington, D. C._
THE INAUGURATION OF GROVER CLEVELAND]
In September, the White House nursery had another occupant, with the
birth of another little daughter, Esther. Much of Mrs. Cleveland’s time
had been occupied in making many of the dainty little garments after
she had withdrawn herself from social affairs for the summer months.
While the general public was deeply interested in Ruth Cleveland, she
did not command the same degree of enthusiasm as was showered on her
little sister Esther, since Esther was a real White House baby, the
ninth child born under that famous roof, just as her mother was the
ninth White House bride. These facts gave the people of the country a
proprietary feeling toward this mite of humanity, and resulted in a
deluge of gifts of all kinds and degrees of loveliness and value. In
fact, not only America, but England, France, Germany, Russia, all not
only sent messages to the babe and her lovely mother, but followed
up their missives of greeting with gifts, until a huge supply had
accumulated. There were dainty white furs from the Far North, linens
from the cloisters of Spain, dresses, christening robes, sacks, socks,
robes, booties of wool, of kid, and of chamois, bibs, wee bits of
baby jewellery--everything a baby needs multiplied many times. A room
overflowed with toys, and one paper of the time, in describing the
deluge, insisted that there were enough cradles, cribs, and carriages
for a full score of babies, and toys enough for an asylum.
The day Esther was born, the President received informally the young
Japanese Prince Yorihato Komatsu, the grand-nephew of the Mikado, who
was travelling around the world incognito.
One of the events in which Washington was greatly interested was the
one hundredth anniversary of the laying of the corner stone of the
United States Capitol, which occurred on September 18, 1893. The
celebration started with the ringing of the centennial chime, after
which there was a procession, and other features by civic organizations
as nearly like those of a hundred years ago as the changed conditions
would permit. William Wirt Henry, a grandson of Patrick Henry, was one
of the speakers.
The prevalence of hard times and the growing numbers of unemployed
brought to pass the assembling of “armies” in all parts of the country.
The first of these aggregations of unemployed, led by a horse dealer
named Coxey, set out for Washington from Ohio to demand relief from the
government. Other armies with the same object started from the Western
Coast states and from Texas, numbering in all about six thousand men.
Many of them were honest and sincerely desired work. Others were toughs
who joined for a lark and followed what seemed to promise adventure.
Still others were plain everyday tramps and loafers and criminals. They
begged for food, and when it was not forthcoming they foraged; and when
they grew tired of marching, they simply boarded trains and rode. Coxey
reached Washington, mounted the steps of the Capitol, made addresses,
and hung around the city for a while. His “army” camped near by from
April 26 to May 1, 1894. Its presence necessitated the increasing of
the White House Guard from twelve to twenty-six men. As long as no open
act of lawlessness and disorder was committed, Coxey and his followers
were unmolested; they wearied of their futile task and disbanded
without accomplishing anything.
Soon afterward, in the city of Chicago, a strike occurred. Two thousand
workmen employed by the Pullman Car Company decided they must have
higher wages. Men on some of the Western roads also struck out of
sympathy for the Pullman workers, deciding they would not work to help
in the use or operation of the trains until the Pullman workers got
their desired raise. They carried the determined stand so far that, for
a time, not a train was running between San Francisco and Chicago.
On June 28th, the American Railway Union, directed by Eugene Debs,
declared a boycott on all Pullman cars, thereby tying up all railroads
west of Chicago hauling these cars. The next day, the United States
Court at Chicago issued an injunction against the strikers, as the
mails were prevented from proceeding. When it was brought to the
President’s attention that the governor of the State of Illinois either
could not or would not take steps to break the strike, he made the
cryptic statement, “I will call out the whole army, if necessary, to
deliver a postcard.”
Those who knew President Cleveland and his unfaltering determination in
the pursuit of duty were satisfied that he would bring the strike to an
end.
Major General Miles, then in command of the Missouri, with headquarters
in Chicago, brought the news to the President that the city was at the
mercy of the mobs, and the seriousness of the situation was intensified
by the fact that there was more than twenty million dollars in the
Sub-Treasury, a fact that was generally known. The food supplies in
the East were jeopardized, especially if the strike were to extend
eastward. The President lost no time in ordering the United States
troops to the spot. The strike leaders were arrested and communication
between them and their henchmen prevented; so the strikers disbanded
and went back to work, and the strike collapsed. The relief over the
settlement of the trouble may be appreciated when it is realized that a
mob of ten thousand men were idle in Chicago alone and that the traffic
blockade extended from Illinois through Indiana, Iowa, Missouri, North
Dakota, Montana, Oregon, Washington, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Nevada,
California, New Mexico, and Nebraska.
During this administration it was found expedient to abandon the Force
Act. As the country had gradually stabilized and state governments had
become efficient, Federal troops were not required to be present at
state elections, and the Force Act, providing for such measures when
needed, was repealed.
The first year of the second administration was certainly a trying one
for the Executive, since, while directing his energies to controlling
and conquering a host of problems at home, the nation became involved
in another dispute with England over the Behring Sea and seal hunting.
Past experience had proved the wisdom of referring such matters of
foreign disagreement to a commission. The same policy was followed, and
a commission of seven prominent men was chosen by the United States,
England, France, Italy, Norway, and Sweden to adjust the matter of
contention. An amicable settlement resulted, which provided that the
Behring Sea should remain open, but that seals should be protected
against indiscriminate killing.
Many have declared Cleveland’s act in regard to the Venezuelan matter
the most important of his administration. For a number of years, the
boundary line between New Guinea and Venezuela had been a matter of
dispute and contention. Venezuela finally appealed to the United States
to use her influence to induce Great Britain to submit the matter
to arbitration. The idea was not favourably received by the British
Government.
President Cleveland’s ideas on the matter began to clarify, and he
sent a message to Congress December 17, 1895, accompanied by all of
the correspondence in the case, and recommended the appointment of
a commission to determine the actual boundary. His message intimated
that the United States would enforce the decision. Congress followed
the President’s lead; the commission was appointed, but before it had
completed the task assigned, England had come to an agreement with
Venezuela, a joint board of arbitration having been appointed. Although
the President received a great deal of criticism for his application of
the Monroe Doctrine, the country’s prestige was much increased.
President Cleveland stood firm for Civil Service reform, which had
always been one of his hobbies, and before his term closed, about half
of all offices of the government were already under Civil Service and
filled by competitive examinations, instead of being parcelled out as
political patronage.
After a long and bitter struggle, Congress enacted a tariff measure,
a modified form of the Wilson Tariff. This reduced protective duties
about one fourth and admitted free lumber, wool, and salt. It also
condemned trusts.
The public was always interested in the Cleveland babies, and
spontaneous congratulations, greetings, and gifts poured in when it was
known that the stork had paid a visit to Gray Gables in July of 1895,
leaving another small daughter, upon whom was conferred the name of
Marian. By this time, little Ruth was finding her busy father a fine
playfellow, and many good times they had drawing pictures and making
things together in his office when his day’s work was done.
The people of the South had planned an exhibition. It was called
“Cotton States and International Exhibition,” and was opened in
September, 1895, by the pressure of the electric button by the tiny
finger of the newest White House baby, Marian. Thus from the gun room
of her father’s charming house, Gray Gables, on Massachusetts Bay,
the two-months-old infant set all of the wheels revolving to open
the exposition. Great gates and doors swung wide; machinery started
buzzing; and with the boom of the cannon and the sound of the shrill
whistles, the activities of the great exposition were set in motion.
With the admission of Utah in 1896, the number of states was forty-five.
Li Hung Chang, Chinese statesman, commander-in-chief of all forces
in the war with Japan, and originator of the Chinese Navy, on a tour
of the world, came to visit the United States, August 28, 1896. He
was received by President Cleveland the following day. The original
comments and pertinent queries he made while here were the source of
much amusement.
Mrs. Cleveland’s last season in Washington was as gay as her manifold
duties would permit. Three babies are a full measure of responsibility
even for a mother aided by the best nurses procurable. One of her
long-discussed functions was a luncheon for forty-eight guests for her
husband’s sister, Miss Rose Cleveland. This was most elaborate and
elegant.
The last Christmas in their administration was a gay one for the
children. Three little stockings were hung on the chimney shelf. There
were many gay parties with the Lamont children and other little folk of
the Cabinet household, and a whole room filled to its utmost capacity
with wonderful gifts and toys.
Though the eyes of the nation were already turning toward the future
occupants so soon to be installed in the White House, public interest
in the Clevelands had not diminished. Mrs. Cleveland’s New Year
reception of 1897 and the evening reception which followed were
attended by the largest throngs ever known. People seemed just to
realize she was leaving the White House, and they were anxious to see
and speak with her. Many brought their children, impressing upon them
the impending departure of the sweet wholesome lady who gave another
opportunity to shake her hand to those who had been too confused to do
so when they first passed. Great numbers of guests crowded also to the
last of the Saturday afternoon receptions. These delightful affairs
for the public ceased with Mrs. Cleveland’s departure, and since her
régime, there have been no affairs for the public save the New Year
receptions.
From Helen Nicolay’s pen this description of one of Mrs. Cleveland’s
farewell “crushes” is taken in part:
“A little before three o’clock Mrs. Cleveland entered on the arm of
Colonel Wilson, and took her place in the improvised passageway, near
the northern door leading from the Red into the Blue Room. Colonel
Wilson stood between her and the door.
“Then the doors were opened and the real reception began, when for two
hours people of high and low degree, white and black passed through
the room at the rate of twenty-five a minute. Mrs. Cleveland had a
smile and a hearty handshake for each one, and her quick wit and
gracious tact were exercised to the utmost in kindly deeds. The little
woman, for instance, who was so absorbed in gazing at her hostess’s
beautiful face that she missed the outstretched hand was given another
chance, after she had quite passed on; and the children were greeted
with special kindness. There were touchingly many children: little
ones in arms, toddlers almost as small, who seemed in danger of being
trampled underfoot, but who had been brought because it was Mrs.
Cleveland’s last reception and in after years they would be proud to
have seen and touched the hand of this most popular mistress of the
White House.
“Women of course made up by far the larger part of the crowd. Many
were evidently ‘flustered’ and passed on with set smile and lowered
eyelids, hardly seeing the President’s wife at all. Others seemed
trying to photograph her face in their memory. The men were more
inclined to stop and make little speeches to the First Lady of the
Land; they cared not one whit what she wore. But the young officer
standing opposite laid a warning hand on the arm of each who wished
to linger, and urged him on. Sometimes a rather vigorous push was
necessary to start the procession again. A few coloured people came
through, both men and women, more men possibly than women. One regular
Topsy of a servant girl, black, undersized, in battered straw sailor,
twisted into shapes that only a coloured Topsy’s hat can assume, with
tattered apron and faded clothes, walked down the line, gleams of such
exultant daring and satisfied desire illuminating the look she rolled
over the daintily clad ladies behind Mrs. Cleveland, that it seemed a
whole revelation of character, and a volume of race history besides.
Toward the end of the reception two Indians added their characteristic
features to the throng.
“Occasionally the stream would be held back for a moment or two,
that she might rest, and she would turn, a little breathless, to
lean on the back of the sofa and survey the group of people behind
her, with bright nods to this and that acquaintance. During one of
these intervals she showed her shapely ungloved right hand to a lady
standing near. It was literally black with the contact, but as she
regarded it with an amused smile she asserted that she was not at all
tired. Three hours of such exercise might make her so, two hours never
did.
“At five o’clock Mrs. Cleveland again took Colonel Wilson’s arm, and
followed by the Cabinet ladies, proceeded to the dining room. There
the ladies from behind the line, and such as had been personally
invited to stay, joined them. A round table was set with tea things,
red roses, fancy cakes, and the gold spoons of the state dinner
service. Chairs were placed in two or three rows around the sides of
the room, and Mrs. Cleveland begged us all to be seated. The company
broke up into little groups, when tea and ices were served, Mrs.
Cleveland being helped first. She then moved about, cup in hand, from
group to group, sitting and chatting a few moments with each.
“It made a picture long to be remembered--the square room with its
airy buff-tinted walls, and sideboard set with historic china and
silver, the dainty table, the groups of attractive women in dresses
as many-tinted as a garden of flowers; the gay pinks, greens, cherry,
blues, and whites subdued to just the right proportion by those of
gray and black and rich dull colours; and moving about among them,
Mrs. Cleveland in her lavender gown, by far the most beautiful woman
there, and as wholesome and sweet and natural as the violets at her
belt.”
The ladies of the Cabinet, learning of Mrs. Cleveland’s love for the
“true blue” of the turquoise, presented her with an exquisite ring set
with this gem as a parting gift of affection.
She set the mansion in order for Mrs. McKinley and departed with her
little folks to get the new home at Princeton ready for her husband,
who, with the burden of state lifted from his shoulders, joined a party
of friends for a restful cruise and fishing trip before joining her.
Achievement was writ large upon Grover Cleveland’s presidential history
page. He laboured long and arduously for the welfare of the nation,
most of the time under the strain of great criticism, but he discharged
his duties in a way that, as time goes on, adds greater lustre to his
name.
Upon his retirement, Cleveland sought a quiet life in the university
town where he was actively associated with the college. He maintained
an interest in various financial enterprises and, for the first time
in his busy life, indulged in his favourite pastimes of hunting and
fishing with a group of old friends and acquaintances among whom was
Joseph Jefferson, the actor. Those who doubt the charm and humour of
Mr. Cleveland’s conversations should read his fishing and duck-hunting
stories. Most of all he enjoyed his young family, two sons being
born within a few years of his retirement. He was an interested and
sympathetic adviser in Mrs. Cleveland’s many activities, especially her
promotion of kindergartens.
Many civic honours came to him. He died at his home in Princeton June
24, 1908, and was buried in the Princeton Cemetery.