In the winter of 1835, crowds poured into the White House not for a speech, a celebration, or a political event, but for a smell, an overwhelming, unforgettable smell. They came to witness the final days of one of the strangest presidential gifts ever recorded: a massive, 1,400-pound block of cheese shaped into a towering, near-pyramidal wheel. This “Great Cheese,” as newspapers called it, had been sent to President Andrew Jackson as a token of admiration from a group of dairy farmers in Oswego County, New York. It arrived with fanfare, was displayed with pride, and ultimately became the center of a story so bizarre it has survived nearly two centuries in political folklore.
The idea began in 1835 when Colonel Thomas S. Meacham, a prominent New York dairyman, conceived a grand gesture of support for the populist president. Meacham crafted not one but several enormous wheels of cheddar, each reportedly weighing hundreds of pounds, and sent them as patriotic gifts to political leaders across the young nation. The crown jewel of this dairy diplomacy was the colossal cheese destined for the White House. Shaped like a monumental wheel that sloped outward at the base, giving it the appearance of a cheese pyramid, it measured more than four feet across, stood nearly two feet tall, and required a specially built wagon just to transport it to Washington.
When the cheese arrived at the White House, Jackson embraced the gift as a symbol of his support among working Americans. He placed it in the Entrance Hall, allowing visiting dignitaries and citizens to admire it. But the cheese quickly became more than décor. Journalists of the time described its presence with a mixture of awe and amusement. As the months passed, the cheese aged, its scent steadily intensifying until it permeated curtains, carpets, and even the president’s clothing. By 1837, near the end of Jackson’s second term, the cheese had taken on a legendary, and increasingly powerful, aroma.
To solve the problem, Jackson made a public decision that would later enter presidential lore. He hosted an open house on Washington’s Birthday and invited the public to help him finish the cheese once and for all. Thousands of people reportedly swarmed the White House. They sliced, scraped, and scooped the cheddar until little remained but crumbs and a stubborn, lingering scent embedded into the walls. One observer wrote that the air “seemed to be saturated with cheese,” and some guests joked that the smell followed them into the streets of Washington for days afterward.
The Great Cheese event became a point of satire for political cartoonists, who used it to poke fun at Jackson’s populist style. But it also became a metaphor, one that Jackson’s successor, Martin Van Buren, found himself struggling to escape. According to multiple accounts, the heated, humid weather of Van Buren’s first summer as president reawakened the odor. The scent of Jackson’s farewell gift seemed to haunt the White House long after the cheese itself was consumed.
Over time, the story evolved beyond its pungent reality. Some versions exaggerated the cheese’s dimensions, transforming the wheel into a monumental pyramid so large it could barely fit through the White House doors. Others suggested Jackson displayed the cheese as proof of the people’s devotion to him, or that political rivals sent their own cheeses in response. While the precise details vary, each retelling preserves the same essential truth: the Great Cheese was real, immense, and memorable enough to secure its place in American history.
Today, historians view the cheese as both a curiosity and an example of 19th-century American political culture, grand gestures, public spectacle, and the celebration of ordinary citizens’ contributions. It even inspired a modern tradition: the Obama administration revived “Big Block of Cheese Day” as a symbolic nod to Jackson’s open house, inviting citizens to ask questions directly of White House officials. Though the original cheese is long gone, its legacy survives in the form of civic participation, pop culture references, and one of the most delightfully strange tales in presidential history.
Sources & Further Reading:
– White House Historical Association: Records on presidential gifts and Jackson-era events
– Contemporary newspaper coverage from 1835–1837 describing the Great Cheese
– Biographical accounts of Andrew Jackson’s presidency and public receptions
– Letters and writings referencing the Meacham cheese gifts to political leaders
– National Archives materials on early presidential household management
(One of many stories shared by Headcount Coffee — where mystery, history, and late-night reading meet.)
