From Memories of the White House (1911)
By Colonel W. H. Crook, bodyguard to Lincoln, Disbursing Officer to Executives
Compiled and Edited by Henry Rood
The first Christmas tree that ever lifted up its gift-laden green in the White House was placed there during the administration of President Harrison — and in my memories of many years’ service within the walls of the Executive Mansion, this stands out as one of the pleasantest. There had been plenty of young people these during previous administrations from Lincoln’s down through Johnson’s, Grant’s, Hayes’s, Garfield’s, Arthur’s, Cleveland’s — and plenty of excuse for a Christmas tree as each December came around its season of joyousness and generosity of spirit; yet, for some reason that I have never been able to understand, one Christmas after another came and went, with every remembrance and observance of the day excepting that which most young people is the crowning feature; a beautiful, tall, graceful tree, laden with gifts and ornaments, shimmering under the weight of numberless pretty devices and glittering baubles.
Cold though he appeared to most people, and indifferent, President Harrison nevertheless was warm-hearted and sympathetic to those who knew him well. He had a merry side to his nature, and with it the love of childhood that is almost always its accompaniment. Mrs. Harrison, too, was warm-hearted, loving to give others happiness, devoted to her children, and almost idolizing her grandchildren — as is not uncommon with grandmothers, whether they live in the White House, or in the humblest cottage. Therefore it was almost inevitable, under the circumstances, that the first Christmas season under General Harrison’s presidency should see a tree set up for the delight and delectation of the children in whom so much of his thought was centered.
In addition to the President and Mrs. Harrison, there were in the White House at the time Mr. and Mrs. Russell B. Harrison and their little daughter; Mr. and Mrs. James Robert McKee and their two children, Benjamin Harrison McKee (better known to the public as “Baby McKee”), aged about two years, and his sister Mary, who was about a year younger. Mrs. Harrison’s niece, Mrs. Mary Scott [sic] Dimmick, also was there, if memory serves; and Mrs. Harrison’s father, the Reverend Doctor Scott, then an aged man. So there were plenty of all sizes and years to make the most of the Christmas season, and they did so right royally.
For days before the one great day, the children grew more and more excited as to coming events, telling each other what they hoped Santa Claus would bring them, running in and out with important, confidential messages and questions to parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts, and generally infusing a spirit that was infectious to all who breathed its atmosphere. Then, late in the afternoon of the day before Christmas, they suddenly found the doors closed and locked which led into the great circular library. They hovered around, wondering what it all meant, until taken away on one pretext or another; but they guessed the Pfister, head gardener of the White House, was inside that enchanted chamber, with a force of expert assistants, who were putting up the most beautiful and perfect tree that could be found in all the country.
Somehow the afternoon passed, supper was disposed of, and Christmas Eve stories were told while stockings were being hung up; and at last the little people drowsily went to bed, still wondering, still hoping that they might wake up late at night, at just the moment when dear old Santa would be coming down the chimney. Long after they were asleep Pfister and his men, and a good many more — including the President of the United States himself — were working like beavers within that library; and it was quite late when the tree was in place, and dressed, and hung with countless gifts.
I saw it Christmas morning, as did others in the Executive Office who had been invited to be present; and it was truly the most beautiful I have ever seen, before or since. From topmost point to the floor it was laden with decorations, with toys innumerable for the children, and with gifts for the older ones. And Mrs. Harrison had made sure that each member of her husband’s office staff was remembered with a personal token. I, for example, received a dainty little book from her, with her good wishes. In addition to the family gifts, the library held a multitude of presents of every imaginable kind, from scores if not hundreds of persons, friends and strangers — or comparative strangers — alike; for at the Christmas season the President and his household are very widely remembered.
I have often wished that those who sometimes called President Harrison “a human iceberg,” could have seen him at that time, and at many another time when he threw aside official reserve. For he truly was a man who enjoyed his family and his intimates to a marked degree. Although he and Mrs. Harrison made no pretension of social superiority they were well educated, accustomed to the best of society, and were wholly at ease wherever they might be. A frequent visitor at the White House while in the Senate, General Harrison felt no strangeness of surroundings when he came there as President, and his family life moved along smoothly from the first. Owing to his stoutness he did not look as tall as he really was, and perhaps for this reason he wore a silk hat and a frock coat when weather conditions permitted. Always dignified, with keen eyes that never wavered, with his military habit of command, it was only natural that those who did not know President Harrison well should have though him extremely cold, reserved, uncommunicative concerning his plans and purposes.
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