January 2, 1910
Fortunately it is Sunday. There ought to be a law making
the New Year being on Saturday, which would always provide a Sunday for rest. The
reception at the White House was a success, and the reception at my house was even a
greater one. That at the White House was an average size, though I had expected it to be
much larger. About five thousand five hundred passed in line, but to have been equal to
that held by President Roosevelt after his inauguration it should have been three thousand
more. We started it promptly, and it was over by half-past two. Mrs. Taft received with
the President for three quarters of an hour, then retired.
I know you are more interested in my afternoon than in the
White House reception. Well, everybody who was invited came, and more also. Upwards of
three hundred people came altogether. I was really flattered, because I know how people,
especially the crowd I run with, hate teas or anything given in the afternoon.
The scene was quite brilliant. Mrs. John Hays Hammond
served the eggnog, and the cafe parfait was served from the buffet. Major Cheatham came in
to help me with the eggnog, and the people went wild about it when they ate it. It was too
thick to be drunk. Here is what was in it: Ten quarts of double cream whipped very stiff,
twelve dozen eggs, six quarts of Bourbon whisky, one pint of rum. I rented a huge punch
bowl and kept the rest in tubs in the pantry. That at the bottom was as thick as that at
the top. It was made by my mother’s old recipe and for fear you don’t know it I
will send it to you, for I have never tasted any eggnog to equal it.
For one dozen eggs, use one quart double thick cream,
nearly one quart of whisky and two tablespoons of Jamaica rum. Beat the yolks to a cream,
add a dessert spoon of sugar to each egg, and whip again. Then add whisky and rum slowly.
The cream should be whipped very stiff, and so should the whites of the eggs. When mixed
it will remain indefinitely without separating.
My eggnog lasted until the last guest had gone, but there
was hardly a spoonful left over.
I invited a few of the attaches and included in my list,
never thinking they would come, the Austrian ambassador and Baroness Hengelmuller, the
French ambassador and Madame Jusserand, and the Netherlands minister and Madame Loudon,
and the Moltkes. All came but the French ambassador. People like Mrs. Townsend and the
Pattens, who seldom go out to afternoon affairs, were all present and helped to give
cachet to my party. I invited only those whom I liked personally, and I did fee pleased
that all came. I fear I am not as thoughtful in similar matters
January 3, 1911
I know you would like to hear about my own New Year’s
party. It was a great success. There were about three hundred people present during the
two and a half hours I received, and these included most of the ambassadors, heads of
missions, five members of the Cabinet, and finally the President himself. The latter I did
not invite and did not want, but it was lovely to have him come, nevertheless, and of
course I felt very much flattered, and, I must confess it, somewhat honored. I thought I
was past being affected one way or another by Presidents, but I found myself quite
overcome when President Taft, unannounced and unexpected, entered the room. Usually I am
part of the show when it enters and makes its exit, so yesterday was quite a novel
experience.
Up to the time of his coming everyone had been having a
splendid time. You see, I had only asked my own personal friends; even in the Cabinet I
only asked those with whom I feel on terms of intimacy, like Hitchcock, Nagel, Dickinson,
and MacVeagh, though Ballinger came and brought his wife with him.
There were all the nicest people in the city here and most
of the officials. General Wood and General Murray and Carter and, in fact, all the general
officers of the army, came in, and two Supreme Court judges, and minor officials, and
while most of these did so because of my connection with the President or else with a real
kindly desire to help me out as they might think, still the young fashionable crowd came
because they were my friends and because they had such a good time last year that they
knew they would enjoy themselves this New Year’s also. I sometimes suspect that I
posses the art of entertaining, for people come early to my house and always stay late and
seem merry while they are here.
It was a very cheap party; that is, it cost me very little
money, but many a millionaire on Massachusetts Avenue would have given a hundred times as
much as I spent to have had the success which mine proved to me.
Mrs. Lamar received for me. She and the new justice arrived
a few days ago, and I though it would be nice to present her in just this way to the
people it would be nicest for her to know after she wakes up and find out that the Supreme
Court set is a little slow for her and the justice. I have long wanted to do something to
show her my gratitude for the beautiful tribute she paid my mother when she offered
resolutions before the Colonial Dames Society announcing her death. My mother always
admired her, and I find that I ask nothing more than that in making up my list of friends.
I could not have found a more beautiful way to testify this gratitude than what I did for
her yesterday. She met everyone she ought sooner or later to meet, and in a way that she
might not have done had she remained here a lifetime. She was charming to everyone, and I
could see that she made a delightful impression on all she met. I stood first, received my
guests, and then presented them to Mrs. Lamar and then to the justice, who was not very
far away at any time.
I had three eggnog bowls going at one time, and these were
presided over by Mrs. John Gibbons, Mrs. Winthrop, the wife of Beekman Winthrop, whom you
met last summer on the North Shore, and Helen Taft. I had only intended to have two at
each end of the table in the dining room, but, these becoming overworked, I started a
third one going in the library and pressed Mrs Spencer Cosby into service. Mrs. Winthrop
and Mrs. Gibbons relieved each other alternatively. I had nothing but eggnog and homemade
cakes and hot biscuits buttered, with Smithfield ham between them. I never saw anything
disappear as did those biscuits. But they must be served hot, and to do this I got Carrie,
Belle Hagner’s cook, and Fanny, my faithful washwoman, experts I the cooking of them,
and with a hot oven they kept the supply equal tot he demand until after seven
o’clock, when the last of ht guests left the house. No one seemed to touch the cake,
and I shall never have cake at another eggnog. The host biscuits are the only things which
should ever be eaten with eggnog. The ham gives just that touch needed to counteract the
sweetness of the nog.
Last year, you remember, it gave out; so this year I was
determined to have enough and made preparations accordingly. I was forced to borrow cups
from the neighbors to put it in, as it overflowed every bowl I had in the house. I rented
three bowls and all the glasses and napkins, but when we began to beat the eggs and the
cream and to mix it, we saw that there were not enough receptacles in the house to hold
the frothy stuff. Altogether we had eleven gallons, and there was only a pint left to send
to Mrs. Taft, who did not come. As I went out to the automobile with the President he
said:
"Archie, this is the best party I ever attended. I
really congratulate you. I don’t think I ever saw so many nice people together who
seemed to be having such a good time."
When he came in and had shaken hands, I said to him that he
should not be troubled with an aide on this occasion, but I soon saw, before he had got
halfway throughout the first room, that aides were necessary. I hastily summoned Captain
Harry Lay, who was looking splendid in his full-dress uniform of the Marines, and asked
him to precede the President and act as his special aide until he left. The President
cannot push people aside, and he gets hemmed in and cornered if someone does not look out
for him. Harry carried and filled the role even better than I could have done, for I
should not like to put one guest over another, even he be the President. This sounds
strange coming from me, does it not? But I think you catch my meaning.
Now, mind you, all this occurred after the New Year’s
reception at the White House, where I had presented by name over five thousand persons and
the President had shaken hands with that number. As a rule, the general public is not
announced by name, but under the present system which prevails at the White House all
presentations are made by me and not repeated by anyone. We got through so quickly that we
found ourselves a half hour ahead of the program, and for fear of getting through the
reception so early as to cause people to think it was a failure, I resorted to the device
of announcing the name of everyone who passed down the line. Even with this I was forced
to hold them back and make them pass more slowly in order to avoid the charge of the press
that the reception was not as large as they usually are. You see, there are some tricks to
every trade.
We had finished by two o’clock, and when I reached
home I found that the colored women with the aid of six Filipino boys had separated the
eggs, beaten up the whites and whipped the cream; so little remained to be done but to
mix. Cosby sent his gardener and contributed a dozen government vases with roses, and the
rooms looked as if a fortune had been spent on flowers. As soon as the reception at the
White House was over, the flowers were sent here and so did double duty. I knew I had done
good work in the matter of this entertainment, but just how good I had not realized until
Mary Patten, who sees in every closet and behind every sham, laughed with me (not at me,
for she is a bully friend) when she said:
"Well, you have killed more birds with one stone than
anyone I ever knew. You send out New Year’s greetings, you invite to a tea on the
same card, you present Mrs. Lamar to fashionable Washington, you clean up your social
score, and we all come to pay our respects, including the President."
"And what do you suppose it cost?" I said,
laughing.
"One who did not know would say a thousand
dollars," she said, "but I should say about a hundred."
"Then you would say just fifty too much," I told
her, and she added:
"And this party will be talked about when the McLean
cotillion and the Leiter dinner dance are forgotten."
I have gone into all this, for I thought it might amuse
you. Don’t keep this letter, for I should not like the secrets of my own household to
be revealed, no matter how much I reveal those of my friends.
January 2, 1912
I have lived through yesterday and feel that I have
qualified for the season. It was like two or three test rides all rolled into one. Here is
the day:
With the help of Frank Cheatham, I made ten gallons of
eggnog between eight and half-past ten in the morning Then donned full-dress uniform and
presented by name over four thousand persons to the President and pushed four thousand
more by him. Returned home and prepared for a reception at my own house, and between fie
and seven received over three hundred friends. Dined at eight with John Gibbons and his
wife, who came from Annapolis, and at eleven went to a ball at the Meyers’, and
finally got to be at two. Dr. Morgan came by at half-past seven to see how I stood the
strain, and his only comment was:
"You are a marvel, that is all I have got to
say."
There is no good to invite anyone in Washington if you do
not expect them to come. At least, it is so in my case. I did not miss a single person I
asked, and most people brought others with them. I had the ten gallons of eggnog and
thirty quarts of coffee and vanilla cream. At seven there was not a glass of nog left, and
only two quarts of the coffee had been consumed, and practically no vanilla at all. There
were three black women in the kitchen sending up hot biscuits with Smithfield ham between
them as fast as they could be cooked. The supply was limitless, or else they would have
given out very early.
Mathilde Townsend, now Mrs. Peter Gerry, poured eggnog, and
Helen Taft served the ice. I have never seen Mathilde looking so beautiful. Justice Holmes
said it was worth fighting his way through the crowd just to get a glimpse of her.
I did not know I had asked so many people, but I did not
see a person I could have left out. I only asked a very few officers, only my intimate
friends, but the whole of the smartest set was here and made a brilliant assembly. The
President told me what Justice Holmes had told him of it and said that several people had
remarked how everyone loved to come to my house. Of course, my official connection with
the President has a good deal to do with it, but I don’t thin that has all to do with
it. I am forced to think that the people whom I meet officially learn to like me
personally, and then my home is lovely and natural, and I also have good things to eat. At
any rate, I came out of it pretty well.
Not so with the President. He was utterly worn out after
his day, and while he was greatly pleased with the crowd which turned out to shake his
hand, still he suffered greatly from fatigue later. It was one of the largest receptions I
have ever seen at the White House on New Year’s. I thought it was going to be very
small. It was on the cards to be so, it seemed to me, and so I whispered to Wheeler, one
of the secret service men who was standing near me, to send Dunn, the usher, who was
checking up the people as they passed by means of an automatic machine. I gave him some
message, and while he was away I told Wheeler to take the counting machine and run the
figures up a thousand. Dunn did not take enough interest to see how many had passed in
line during his absence. So no one was the wiser except Jimmy Sloan, who is still jealous
for the Roosevelt Administration. When he heard me tell the President that over eight
thousand had passed, he began to suspect something and also began to figure. He said that
not more than forty persons could pass to the minute when unannounced, and that with the
presentation not more than twenty or twenty-five could possibly pass in line.
So it went out that the President had held the largest
reception ever held at the White House on New Year’s Day, even greater than the first
one which President Roosevelt held after the death of McKinley. But it was a tremendous
reception, nevertheless, and even without the padding it would have gone upwards of eight
thousand, whereas last year there were only fifty-five hundred in line, and the year
before something like six thousand.