Deserted by all
save his most intimate friends, the New Englander faced the last hours
of his Administration in bitterness. His diary bears ample evidence of
his ill-humor and chagrin. On the 3d of March he took up his residence
on Meridian Hill, near the western limits of the city; and thence he
did not venture until the festivities of the ensuing day were ended.
No amount of effort on the part of mediators ever availed to bring
about a reconciliation between him and his successor.
According to custom, the inaugural program came to an end with a
reception at the White House; and arrangements were made to entertain
a large number of guests. Police control, however, proved wholly
inadequate, and when the throng that followed the President up the
Avenue reached the executive grounds it engulfed the mansion and
poured in by windows as well as doors, until the reception rooms were
packed to suffocation. Other guests, bidden and unbidden--"statesmen
and stable-boys, fine ladies and washerwomen, white people and
blacks"--continued for hours to besiege the doors.
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