Julia Sand – Letter 3

Context

President Arthur had recently come back to visit New York City. This move raised concerns – both regarding if the President was looking to control New York politics, as well as from whom he may be receiving advice. Arthur’s New York visits will be a recurring point of contention for Julia Sand.

Letter 3

October 5, 1881

Hon. Chester A. Arthur

Well, you have gone. So much the better. But they say you are coming back again, very soon. Please don’t!!! New York is the one spot on the continent where you positively ought not to be this fall. If your private affairs require attention, show your patriotism in letting them suffer. It will take months for you to live down the injury you have done yourself in being here for just a few days. And it is not for the good of the country that it should lose confidence in you now.

Taken at large, one branch of the Republican Party is about as good as the other – “that man from Maine” [James Blaine] does not lead a band of angels, any more than that man from the other place – but in the state of New York, it is different. Here an absolute right & wrong are in conflict. Unfortunately, you have been connected with the side which represents the wrong – the machine – the thing which I politely request you to smash. Perhaps it was expecting too much of human nature that you should take pride in doing that. But no effort on your part is necessary. Only be passive. Stay in Washington, absorbed in national affairs, not showing by the movement of an eyelash that you take an interest in what is going on here. And when the electioneering excitement is over, you have merely to bow gracefully to that great law of nature, the survival of the fittest. Depend on it, the fittest will not be your old machine. If there is a soul in the Republican Party, it is on the other side.

You are in a difficult position – perhaps feel far more need of comfort, than of criticism – but you ought not to make things worse for yourself than they must be. In coming to New York at this season, you do. You put yourself in temptation, & in a certain way put yourself in the power of untrustworthy men. In your own house with your usual surroundings, might you not some time forget that you were President of the United States? In the depths of your heart, do you not – or, we will say, did you not – love “a political “row”? Not one in which anybody got killed – that is too serious – but just a nice lively time? Do you not – or did you not – take a serene satisfaction in outwitting your opponents? Is there not – or was there not – one chord in your nature, which responds – or did respond – peculiarly to the lights & the noise & the nonsense of a political campaign? Are you certain, with the whole thing in full blast around you, that you could keep perfect by neutral & calm??? And if you could, do you think you would be allowed the credit of it? Not if your old adherents could help it. You cannot longer claim the privacy, of an ordinary citizen, & you have not here the protection of your official surroundings. You might sit in your library with locked doors, all day, & it would not prevent every Republican rag-a-muffin in town from ringing your bell & putting on the air of an intimate friend. You might go to bed at eight o’clock, & it would not prevent some miserable ward association from walking up & down in front of your house with torches & tooting Yankee Doodle till it drove you almost wild. And if, by the eleventh hour, you lost your temper so far as to put your head out of the window say a few bad words & request them to go home, nothing could give them greater satisfaction. They would deafen you with their cheers. And the next morning you would read in the newspapers that you had received a grand ovation from your old friends to which you had cordially responded – while the band played, oysters, chicken salad, ice cream & champagne were served to the crowd by the pailful – after which you appeared on an upper balcony, in full generals uniform, & delivered a lengthy, elegant & carefully prepared oration, setting forth distinctly your future policy – the leading feature of it being a demand, to be made upon Congress at an early date, for an appropriation of $999,000,000 for the erection of villages in the Rocky Mountains, to accommodate your Stalwart friends, each one of whom, during your term, should be his own Postmaster, & meanwhile have facilities for building a little railroad, to be president of when you were no more! How would you like it? And how long would it take you to live such a story down? Who, besides possible postmasters & railroad presidents, would have any faith left in you? Do you think it sounds exaggerated? That fair minded people would not credit it? Oh, it sounds wonderfully like what might have been expected, by both friend & foe – from the Mr. Arthur who used to run the machine in New York! You Washingtonians have no idea what a dreadful creature he was. I saw a picture of him once – & it had horns. You must not let yourself be mistaken for that man for one moment. The new Mr. Arthur in Washington is another person – & the sooner he makes the country understand it, the happier it will be for all parties.

And now are you thinking that I am insanely conceited for giving you such an avalanche of my ideas? Probably. I admit I have “let facts speak loudly against me.” Yet I am not prompted by egotism. I know that my opinion, as mine, can have no weight with you. If it has any value, it is because we are strangers, because our paths have never crossed & are not likely ever to meet, because, while taking an intense interest in politics, I have no political ties. It is because it is impersonal – a sample of something in general use, like the fresh air – a thing you could have abundance of, if you were out in the fields, yet may feel the want of, in a city, where the atmosphere is close, & the crowd pressing against you. However, there is little originality in the human race. Minds go, sympathetically, in groups, towards a given idea – five hundred people claim to have discovered the comet – & so, perhaps, five hundred people, whom you never saw or heard of – & devoutly hope never to see or hear of again! – have been persecuting you with their wisdom. In that case I pity you sincerely & apologize ten thousand times. But I will not trouble you much oftener – possibly this is the last time. There are reasons why it is difficult for me to write to you. And I am not fond of talking, when it is to no purpose. Soon you will show what you intend to do. Half measures have no place on your programme – they would make too flat a failure. If you choose one course, you will have all the praise you want, without mine. If you choose the other, I shall know, that, if my first appeal to you was in vain, nothing that I could say to you now would avail. But I will not admit that ‘if’ – I intend to go on having faith in you. Goodbye.

Yours sincerely,

J. I. S.

P.S. Oct 8th

I have just seen a picture of the Mr. A in Washington – a very interesting one – in the character of Henry V. I have half a mind to send it to you, when my brother gets done admiring it.

By the way, do you take any care of your health? Perhaps naturally it is good; but there are limits to human strength. You have been under a great nerve strain for months past. And now we read constantly of your being “hard at work,” or “receiving callers,” but rarely of your going anywhere. You ought to be out every day, & early in the day too – not when the sunset chill is in the atmosphere & malaria is prowling around in search of its victims. You ought to take the time, even if you have to make it up at night. Nothing supplies the place of fresh air & sunshine. By force of will we can accomplish a great deal, &, under the excitement of it, fancy that we are thriving, but if the health is neglected, the break down is certain to come – & when it comes, it is not easily mended. If one thing more than another would make the duties of your position intolerable to you, it would be to have to meet them with a perpetual headache. Therefore ward it off – do not sit still all day & let the blood go crowding to your brain. If you are not too heavy – your pictures vary about 100 lbs in weight – & it would be cruelty to animals to have a depressing effect upon them – why not ride on horseback all through the bright, bracing autumn weather? Of all things in the world, that is the experience which most quickly gets the blood in motion & brings refreshment alike to body & mind.

And now, before I leave you in peace, may I say one thing more? What is this talk of a coolness between you & Mr. James [Blaine], which renders his resignation unavoidable? The public does not insist that you should keep Garfield’s cabinet, but if there is one man it wants you to keep, he is the one. Do not let him go. If he will not stay for your sake, make him see that it is a time to put aside personal considerations, that the people wish his services, that he has a duty to his country. It was much harder for you to forgive him, than it is for him to forgive you. It always is harder, when we are in the wrong – & probably you see more clearly now, than you did six months ago, what it is for few men to unite to bully the President into carrying out their views. But some people always are in the right – & have a way of making the right seem odious! Is he one of that kind? Well, even if he is, keep him. When he is quite too awfully cool, you can just shovel a few “coals of fire” on his head – & make it hot for him! – like a good Christian. It is detestable to have uncongenial people mixed with our daily life, & yet sometimes it may be good for us. It forces us to be very critical of our own conduct & to live closer to our ideal. You may have a great deal of trial in this way, but in the end – when you have obliged those who distrusted you to acknowledge your worth – you will have the most beautiful of triumphs, one that is pure & noble & perfectly free from all worldly vanity. You have a great responsibility resting on you, but you will prove equal to it. With the best hopes & wishes for your future, farewell.

Sincerely your friend,

J. I. S.