A platoon of mounted Police and our escort, the Cleveland City Troop, with their elaborate and beautiful uniforms somewhat bedraggled by the morning’s sleet and mud, met us at the steps leading down from the platform. We entered the official coach and four and were slowly driven down through the Capitol grounds to Pennsylvania Avenue, and thence to the White House. As I have said, the clouds had rolled by; the day was cold but bright; the expected and expectant crowds were thronging the sidewalks and filling the stands, and our greeting from them was all that my fancy had pictured it.

For me that drive was the proudest and happiest event of Inauguration Day. Perhaps I had a little secret elation in thinking that I was doing something which no woman had ever done before. I forgot the anxieties of the preceding night; the consternation caused by the fearful weather; and every trouble seemed swept aside. My responsibilities had not yet begun to worry me, and I was able to enjoy, almost to the full, the realisation that my husband was actually President of the United States and that it was this fact which the cheering crowds were acclaiming.