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Washington got its first real look at Rose and the rest of the family at the inaugural ball that night. As First Lady, she should have been the center of attention, but it was Vice President Hendricks’s stylish wife, Eliza, a veteran of the Washington social scene, who assumed that status. With her white brocaded satin gown with beaded pearl front, Mrs. Hendricks won the evening’s accolades from the Washington Post, followed by the wife of the commanding general of the United States Army, then President Cleveland’s three nieces, Mary Hoyt, and finally, the First Lady. Rose’s low-waisted gown of white silk, edged with plaited ruffles, was depicted without editorial comment. Some may have seen this as exceedingly insulting.

Four days later, Rose held her first reception at the White House. She must have been anxious because she asked her sisters Mary and Louisa, and her sister-in-law, for assistance. They stood in the East Room greeting a throng of high-society ladies who were there to observe the First Family firsthand. It was an uncomfortable occasion for the four Cleveland ladies because even the most inconsequential social gaffe could potentially be blown up into an embarrassing situation by the hostile press. Rose wore her hair in stylish little curls to enhance the framing of her intelligent face. This time her outfit—a plain green velvet dress—received favorable notices. It was remarked that she was “in every way fit to preside over the social ceremonies at the famous mansion.”

Then the rumor mill started churning. The Washington Post pointed out how Rose was so like Anna Dickinson in the way she wore her hair short and sensible. Anna Dickinson was a well-known suffragette and lecturer who, in 1864, became the first woman to speak before the House of Representatives. In those days, she was known as a fierce abolitionist—the Joan of Arc of the Civil War—but as the years went on, she struggled with mental health, and her sister would one day have her committed into a state hospital for the insane. There was also the scuttlebutt that Anna was a lesbian. Having made the comparison, and its inescapable insinuations, the Post was quick to point out “there is nothing mannish” about Rose Cleveland.

The capital’s leading socialites treated Rose cordially, but some snarky comments hinted at something amiss. One had to read between the lines to get the message. The Boston Herald praised Rose for bringing to Washington much needed “earnestness” and applauded her “clean-cut” face. Then came this dig: “If she has the courage of her convictions she will lead in her natural bent [italics added] rather than be led by the stereotyped ways of so-called fashion.”

When Rose invited a delegation from the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union to tea at the White House, she showed that she had a mind of her own. This was bold of her: The Prohibition Party had fielded a candidate against her brother in the election of 1884, winning 150,000 votes. When the ladies arrived wearing white ribbons denoting their devotion to the cause of prohibition, there was quite a scene. To Rose, wine was “poison,” and drinking a national curse. When an article Rose had written for a temperance magazine back in 1882, when she was an unknown academic, found its way back into print now that she was First Lady, it’s easy to imagine President Cleveland’s irritation at her words: “It is only a strong man who can keep his wine glass upside down.” Rose also let it be known that she had great admiration for Rutherford B. Hayes’s wife, Lucy, known by the sobriquet “Lemonade Lucy” after she banned alcohol at all White House functions. Rose did not go that far—wine continued to be served at dinner in the Cleveland White House—but whenever a toast was made, the only drink Rose hoisted was water.

Mary Hoyt remained in Washington until the end of March, when she returned to her family in Fayetteville, New York. Louisa Bacon, who was married to an architect, also went