Litchfield Enquirer

Washington, Jan. 2, 1836.

At two o'clock the doors of the President's Palace (for every one here has royalty enough about him to call the mansion a palace,) was thrown open for the reception of the multitude, without distinction of rank or politics.— The front of the President's house was lined with a hundred or more carriages, bearing to and from the President's house an innumerable concourse of people, strangers and citizens, belonging in the good city of Washington, and its adjoining towns. The outer hall was thronged with visitors, pushing their way to the drawing room, where the President was stationed. In the hall, also, were the marine band, in full uniform, playing a pleasing variety of national airs. Satiated with music, curiosity was next gratified by gazing upon a large cheese of 700 lbs. in the same department, presented by some gentleman of Oswego, in your State. The monster, for it was a monster, of superior attraction, quite eclipsing the President and his retinue, had but just reached the President, who, always having the good of his people at heart, ordered it to be placed where all could view it. From the hall, as it is called, we entered into a beautifully decorated drawing room, at the door of which stood the President, offering his hand, and making his best bow to all who entered.— Donelson, his private Secretary, stood by, ordering "we, the people," as soon as we had let the President, to disperse, and make room for others. In this manner the drawing room was filled, and again emptied, for the space of two hours. As crowded as we could be "we, the people," again moved into an adjoining drawing room, where stood the wife of the President's adopted son, and the wife of the President's Secretary, the centre of attraction. They seemed to all the spectators the very nucleus of beauty and interest—certainly so, if I may judge from the attention which was given to them by all present, and the very many introductions they received to strangers present. In this room most of the wives and daughters of the Secretaries were seen, and indeed the most distinguished ladies in the city.— Here too, was Martin Van Buren, frisking about like a toad upon the green, shaking hands with every body—glad to see every body—hoping for every body's health—asking after every body's friends—winking to every body—and of course trusting to be rewarded by every body in a better than gold coin—the votes of the people. Upon a wager of a thousand pounds, I could have selected him from ten thousand people, had I never seen him before. He is Martin Van Buren—“the same yesterday, to-day and forever”—with the same everlasting devil in his eye—the same smirk upon his face—the same proffered hand to grasp the hand of another, be he friend or foe, ignorant or learned—the same bland voice and manner to one and all, or if there be a difference, grasping the hand of a stranger, with more fierceness and cordiality than he would the hand of a friend. Weary of gazing upon his hypocrisy, or what he and his friends call his tact, and eager to see all that was to be seen in the hour of seeing (for the time of receiving spectators was limited to two hours) I forced my way into a third drawing room, covered with green paper, and adorned with green decorations, and furnished in part with green furniture. Here beauty was as scarce as flowers in mid-winter. Not a woman could be found, for the very good reason that the green from the walls reflecting upon the countenances, had the effect to make the ladies appear worse than pen or tongue could paint them—with a green, jealous, bottle-imp face, as forbidding as it was disagreeable. From this sickly, pale-cast room, an egress was made as soon as one could be found. I know not to whom the President is indebted for this green-eyed room—so ugly in its appearance, that one after being there would fancy he had been walking among the tombs or on the grass plots of the dead. We found an outlet from this cave into the East Room—aye, the renowned East Room, that field of caucus and manoeuvre, where

"Thrones are raised and kings are made;"

where, too, as around Egypt of old, now swarm the holders and seekers of office, coming, if possible, to foster the plagues that were sent as curses upon Pharaoh. To reach this room, seemed the ne plus ultra of the desires of the crowd, as I am sure it was of my own wish. The Foreign Ministers were there, dressed in the military uniforms of their own countries, with gold stars upon their coats—the whole uniform far more beautiful than the American—not so much surpassing the American military dresses in their display, as in their neatness and richness. The American officers, too, were there in full uniform, from some of the veterans in the revolution, to many of the heroes in the last war, and from these to the officers in the Navy-yards belonging to the city and elsewhere. All the splendor of the city was there, and all the splendor from abroad, hating some few of the opposition, whom the President spurns, and who in turn receives a mutual regard from them. Ladies of all ranks, from not a few from all parts of the other side of the Atlantic, to the American women gathered from all parts of their native land, were also there, dressed in all the beauty and fashion that taste and wealth could display. In short, the people were there in thousands, from the poorest devil to the richest nabob. I saw there the lame, the halt, and the blind, as well as the strong, the sprightly; all from grey hairs and grey beards, to beardless boys, and even infants in their mothers' arms. Babel itself never presented a greater confusion of tongues than the East Room, upon the present occasion. German, Russian, Spanish, French, English, and all talking with the crowd as if upon a wager, and making all the hideous noises of a newly caged menagerie.