gentlemen, thought well of Jackson's character but very poorly of his
levees. In describing a White House reception which he attended in
1831, he wrote:

"The old man stood in the center of a little circle, about large enough
for a cotillion, and shook hands with everybody that offered. The
number of ladies who attended was small; nor were they brilliant. But
to compensate for it there was a throng of apprentices, boys of all
ages, men not civilized enough to walk about the room with their hats
off; the vilest promiscuous medley that ever was congregated in a
decent house; many of the lowest gathering round the doors, pouncing
with avidity upon the wine and refreshments, tearing the cake with the
ravenous keenness of intense hunger; starvelings, and fellows with
dirty faces and dirty manners; all the refuse that Washington could
turn forth from its workshops and stables."

The "people" still ruled. Yet it was only the public receptions that
presented such scenes of disorder. The dinners which the President
occasionally gave were well appointed. A Philadelphia gentleman who
was once invited to the White House with two or three friends
testifies that "the dinner was very neat and served in excellent
taste, while the wines were of the choicest qualities. The President
himself dined on the simplest fare: bread, milk, and vegetables."

Jackson was never a rich man, and throughout his stay in the White
House he found it no easy matter to make ends meet. He entertained his
personal friends and official guests royally. He lavished hospitality
upon the general public, sometimes spending as much as a thousand or
fifteen hundred dollars on a single levee. He drew a sharp line
between personal and public expenditures, and met out of his own
pocket outlays that under administrations both before and after were
charged to the public account. He loaned many thousands of dollars, in
small amounts, to needy friends, to old comrades in arms, and
especially to widows and orphans of his soldiery and of his political
supporters; and a large proportion of these debts he not only never
collected but actually forgot. Receipts from the Hermitage farm during
his years of absence were small, and fire in 1834 made necessary a
rebuilding of the family residence at considerable cost. The upshot
was that when, in 1837, the General was preparing to leave Washington,
he had to scrape together every available dollar in cash, and in
addition pledge the