The affair was horribly mismanaged, causing great discomfort and drawing severe criticism to the managers. The bitter weather added to the distress. There were no adequate arrangements for wraps and hats, no system for calling cabs and carriages, and, consequently, scores upon scores of people were obliged to give up all hope of finding their own garments when they desired to leave. There were no hired carriages to be had, and many walked home through the mud and slush in the wee small hours of the morning minus cloaks and headgear. Horace Greeley lost his cherished white hat and venerable gray overcoat in the mêlée. Many ladies, in their struggle to get into the supper room, lost their escorts, and, failing to find them again or to get any supper, remained sitting on the floor, cold, hungry, and disconsolate, through that never-to-be-forgotten night. Ten o’ clock next morning found nearly a thousand people still clamouring for their hats and coats. The supper also was a dismal failure. Half of the assemblage could not get near the door, much less to the table, after having bought supper tickets. All of this confusion was bad enough; what made it worse was that Washington was locked in the teeth of a blizzard. Many deaths and much illness were attributed to the exposure. General Grant kept the personnel of his Cabinet a complete secret until he sent their names to the Senate for confirmation the day after inauguration. Elihu B. Washburne, of Illinois, was made Secretary of State. He had been the staunchest defender of General Grant when General Halleck’s charges and complaints of Grant’s conduct to President Lincoln threatened to cause him to be relieved of his command after the engagement of Shiloh. He served only six days, when Hamilton Fish, descended from a long fine of prominent New York statesmen, was nominated and confirmed as his successor. Washburne went to France as Minister Plenipotentiary.