CHAPTER VII

THE POLITICS OF THE EARLY EIGHTIES

The Hayes administration was scarcely half over when the politicians

began to look forward to the election of 1880. At the outset of his

term, Hayes had advocated a single term for the executive and there was

no widespread movement among the politicians to influence him to change

his attitude. His enemies, indeed, had already turned to General Grant.

There had been a third-term boom for the General during his second

administration and he had indicated that he was not formidably opposed

to further continuance in office. Suddenly, however, the anti-third-term

feeling had risen to impressive proportions, whereupon the House of

Representatives had adopted a resolution which characterized any

departure from the two-term precedent as "unwise, unpatriotic, and

fraught with peril to our free institutions." As the resolution passed

by an overwhelming vote--233-18--nothing further was heard of a

third-term boom.

The Hayes administration put a different complexion on the matter. The

wheel-horses of the party were not enthusiastic over the President or

his policies, and in their extremity they looked to Grant. The New York

State Republican Convention, under control of Roscoe Conkling and his

forces, instructed delegates to support the General as a candidate for

the nomination and endeavored to forestall opposition to a third term.

It declared that the objection to a third presidential term applied only

to a third consecutive term and hence was inapplicable to the

re-election of Grant. Grant, meanwhile, presented a spectacle that was

at once humorous and pathetic. He had not expected, on leaving the

presidency, to return to power again, had dropped consideration of the

political future and had given himself up to the enjoyment of foreign

travel. The royal reception accorded him wherever he went suggested to

his political supporters that they utilize his popularity. It was

foreseen that when he returned to America he would receive a tremendous

ovation, on the wave of which he might be carried into office. He was

flooded with advice and entreaties that he act in accordance with this

plan. His family was eager to return to the position of social eminence

which they had occupied, and pressure from them was incessant. At first

he did nothing either to aid or to hinder the boom, then gave way to the

pressure and at last became extremely anxious to obtain the coveted

prize.

If the politicians did, in truth, desire a relaxation from the patronage

standards of the Hayes regime, they did not make that the ostensible

purpose of their campaign. They argued that the times demanded a strong

man; that foreign travel had greatly broadened the General and given him

a knowledge of other forms of government; that he had been great as a

commander of armies, greater as a President, and that as a citizen of

the Republic he "shone with a luster that challenged the admiration of

the world." Behind him were Conkling and Platt, with the New York state

organization under their control, Don Cameron who held Pennsylvania in

his hand, General Logan, strong in Illinois, and lesser leaders who

wielded much power in smaller states. Many business men were ready to

lend their aid; the powerful Methodist Church, to which he belonged, was

favorable to him; and, of course, his popularity as a military leader

was unbounded. His return to the United States while the enthusiasm was

at its height was the signal for an unprecedented ovation. The opponents

of a third term painted in high colors the danger of a revival of the

scandals of Grant's days in the presidential chair, formed "No Third

Term" leagues, called an "Anti-Third-Term" convention and decried the

danger of continuing a military man in civil office. _The Nation_

scoffed at the educational effect of foreign travel on a man who was

fifty-seven years of age and could understand the language in only one

of the countries in which he travelled. A large fraction of the

Republican press, in fact, was in opposition. "Anything to beat Grant"

and "No third term" were their war-cries. Nor was there any lack of

Republican candidates to oppose the Grant movement and to give promise

of a lively nominating convention. Blaine's popularity was as widespread

as ever. Those who feared the nomination of either Grant or Blaine

favored Senator George F. Edmunds of Vermont or Secretary Sherman. Both

of these men were of statesmanlike proportions, but Edmunds was never

widely popular and Sherman was lacking in the arts of the

politician--"the human icicle," T.C. Platt called him.

The Republican nominating convention of 1880 met in Chicago in a

building described as "one of the most splendid barns" ever built. This

convention is unusually worthy of study because it involved most of the

elements which entered into American politics in the early eighties. It

was long memorable as making a record for that form of enthusiasm which

bursts into demonstrations. "Great applause," "loud laughter," "cheers"

and "hisses long and furious" dot the newspaper accounts of its

deliberations. The members "acted like so many Bedlamites," one of the

delegates said. On one day the opening prayer was so unexpectedly short

that there was applause and laughter. The keen contest for the

nomination resulted in galleries packed with supporters of the several

candidates, who cheered furiously as their favorite delegates appeared.

As the galleries came down nearly to the level of the floor, the

spectators were almost as much members of the convention as the

delegates themselves. It was under such conditions, then, that the

convention proceeded to the serious business of adopting principles and

choosing a leader.

Three hundred and six of the 757 delegates were sworn supporters of

Grant--pledged to die, if they died at all, "with their boots on," one

of their leaders said. In each of the big delegations--those from New

York, Pennsylvania and Illinois--a minority was unfavorable to Grant.

This minority could be counted in the General's column if the convention

could be forced to adopt the so-called "unit-rule," under which the

delegation from a state casts all its votes for the candidate favored by

the majority. In this particular case, the minorities in New York,

Pennsylvania and Illinois numbered more than sixty delegates, so that

the adoption of the rule was a stake worth playing for. The plan

formulated by the Grant leaders was worthy of the time.

Donald Cameron of Pennsylvania was chairman of the National Republican

Committee. Following the usual custom, Cameron was to call the

convention to order and present the temporary chairman who had been

chosen by the Committee. As the Grant supporters were in a minority even

on the Committee, provision was made to meet the emergency in case the

majority insisted on the appointment of an anti-Grant chairman. Cameron

was to announce the name, a Grant delegate was to move to substitute a

Grant man instead, and Cameron would enforce the unit-rule in the

resulting ballot. This would ensure control of the organization of the

convention and, doubtless, of the nomination of the candidate.

Unhappily for this well-laid plan, rumor of it leaked out, and the

majority of the National Committee--opposed to Grant--conveyed

information to Cameron that he must agree to give up such a scheme or be

ousted from his position. Cameron, convinced that his enemies were

determined, gave up his project, and Senator George F. Hoar, who favored

neither Grant nor Blaine, was made temporary and later permanent

chairman.

Although defeated in the first skirmish, the Grant forces pressed

forward for renewed conflict. Conkling presented a resolution that every

member of the convention be bound in honor to support the eventual

candidate, whoever he might be. The resolution passed 716 to three; and

he then moved that the three who had voted in the negative had thereby

forfeited their votes in the convention. James A. Garfield of Ohio led

the opposition to such rough-shod action and Conkling angrily withdrew

his resolution amid hisses. When Garfield reported from the Committee on

Rules in regard to the regulations under which the convention should

deliberate, he moved that the unit rule be not adopted and the

convention upheld him. It was manifest that the delegates were not in a

mood to surrender to a junto of powerful machine politicians.

The way having been now cleared for action, the convention adopted a

platform. This was composed largely of a summary of the achievements of

the party and denunciation of the opposition. Most of the planks were

abstract or perfunctory, or expressed in such a way as not to commit the

party seriously. _Harper's Weekly_, a Republican periodical, regretted

the character of the platform and remarked that such documents are

expected to say

An undisputed thing

In such a solemn way.

Judged by this criterion, the platform was ideal. The obligations of the

country to the veterans were emphasized and the restriction of Chinese

immigration called for. On the tariff, the only utterance was an avowal

that duties levied for the purposes of revenue should discriminate in

favor of labor. After this declaration of faith had been unanimously

adopted, a Massachusetts delegate presented an additional plank

advocating civil service reform.

The convention was now badly put to it. To reject a plank which had been

accepted both in 1872 and in 1876 would discredit the party,

particularly as the platform just adopted had accused the opposition of

sacrificing patriotism "to a supreme and insatiable lust for office."

Nevertheless the opposition to its adoption was formidable, and it had

already been twice rejected in the Committee on Resolutions, which drew

up the platform. There seemed no way of avoiding the issue, however, and

the plank was thereupon adopted, though not before Webster Flanagan of

Texas had blurted out, "After we have won the race ... we will give

those who are entitled to positions office. What are we up here for?"

With the speeches presenting candidates to the convention, the real

business of the week began. Senator Conkling aroused a tempest of

enthusiasm for General Grant in a famous speech which began with the

lines,

When asked what state he hails from,

Our sole reply shall be,

He comes from Appomattox

And its famous apple tree.

Garfield presented Sherman's name. At the outset General Grant led,

Blame was a close second and Sherman third. This order continued for

thirty-five ballots. By that time Blaine and Grant had fought each other

to a standstill. The General's three hundred and six held together

without a break, and Blaine's forces were equally determined.[1]

There was little chance of compromise, as Grant and Blaine were not on

speaking terms, and Conkling and Blaine looked upon each other with

unconcealed hatred. Since Sherman was handicapped by lack of united

support in his own state, the natural solution of the problem seemed to

be the choice of some other leader who might harmonize the contending

factions. On the thirty-fourth ballot, seventeen votes were given to

Garfield; on the next, fifty; then a stampede began, in spite of a

protest by Garfield, and on the thirty-sixth ballot a union of the

Blaine and Sherman forces made him the choice of the convention. The

nominee for the vice-presidency was Chester A. Arthur, who was one of

the leading supporters of Grant and a member of the Conkling group.

The choice of Garfield was well received by the country, perhaps the

more so as a relief from the danger of a third term. The nominee was a

man of great industry, possessed of a store of information, tactful,

modest, popular, an effective orator, and a veteran of the war. His

rise from canal boy to candidate for the presidency exemplified the

possibilities before industrious youth and gave rise to many a homily

on democratic America. Yet his friends had to defend his relation to a

paving scandal in the District of Columbia and an unwise connection with

the Credit Mobilier of 1873. In neither of these cases does Garfield

seem to have been corrupt, but in neither does he appear in a highly

favorable light.[2]

As the Republicans were dispersing, the Greenback convention was

assembling. Their strength in the campaign was almost negligible but

their platform presaged the future. Money to be issued only by the

government, the volume of money increased, ameliorative labor

legislation, restriction of Chinese immigration, regulation of

interstate commerce, an income tax, government for the people rather

than for classes, wider suffrage,--all these were advocated in concise

and unmistakable terms. James B. Weaver was the presidential candidate.

Among the Democrats, the all important question was whether Tilden would

be a candidate again. He naturally wished for a renomination and an

opportunity to prove by an election that he had been "fraudulently"

deprived of the presidency in 1876. The party, likewise, seemed to need

his services, as no other leader of equal prominence had appeared. On

the other hand, his health had rapidly failed since 1876 and it was

apparent that he was unequal to the exacting labors of the presidency.

Not until just before the meeting of the convention, however, did he

make known his wishes and then he declared that he desired nothing so

much as an honorable discharge from public service and that he

"renounced" the renomination. The party took him at his word and turned

to the adoption of a platform and the choice of another leader.

The platform reflected the bitterness of the party over the "great

fraud" of 1876-1877 and advocated tariff for revenue only, civil service

reform and the restriction of Chinese immigration. In other words,

except for the usual self-congratulation and the denunciation of the

opposition, the Democratic platform closely resembled that of the

Republicans. The convention then nominated for the presidency General

Winfield S. Hancock, a modest, brave Union soldier, of whom Grant once

said, "his name was never mentioned as having committed in battle a

blunder for which he was responsible." He was not an experienced

politician, but was popular even in the South.

On the whole the Democratic convention was much less interesting than

its Republican predecessor. There were no fierce factional quarrels to

arouse the emotions to concert pitch. The applause spurted out here and

there like the "jets from a splitting hose" in the "Ki yi yi yi" which

characterized the cheers of the lower wards of New York, in contrast to

the rolling billows of applause which formed so memorable an element in

the opposition gathering. The New York Tribune, although hostile to

everything Democratic, perhaps stated the fact when it commented on the

lack of enthusiasm. The convention, the Tribune noted, was well-behaved,

but a mob without leaders; there were no Conklings or Garfields or

Logans, only John Kelleys and Wade Hamptons.

The campaign of 1880 reflected the lack of definite utterances in the

party platforms. Since each side was loath to press forward to the

solution of any real problem facing the nation, the campaign was

confined, for the most part, to petty or even corrupt partisanship. The

career of General Garfield was carefully overhauled for evidences of

scandal. Arthur's failings as a public officer were duly paraded.

General Hancock was ridiculed as "a good man weighing two hundred and

forty pounds." Some attempt was made by the Republicans to make an issue

of the tariff, and a remark of Hancock to the effect that the tariff was

a "local issue" was jeered at as proving an ignorance of public

questions. There was little response to the "bloody shirt" and little

interest in "the great fraud." A modicum of enthusiasm was injected into

the canvass by the participation of Conkling and General Grant. The

former was not happily disposed toward the Republican candidate and

Grant had always refused to make campaign speeches, but as the autumn

came on and defeat seemed imminent, these two leaders were prevailed

upon to lend their assistance. Near the end of the campaign a letter was

circulated in the Pacific states, purporting to have been written by

Garfield to a Mr. Morey, and expressing opposition to the restriction of

Chinese immigration. The signature was a forgery, but complete exposure

in the short time before election day was impossible and the letter

perhaps injured Garfield on the coast. Nevertheless Garfield and Arthur

won, although their popular plurality was only 9,500 in a total of about

nine millions. The electoral vote was 214 to 155 and showed that the

division among the states was sectional, for in the North Hancock

carried only New Jersey, together with Nevada and five electoral votes

in California, the result probably of the Morey letter.

Two aspects of the campaign had especial significance. The attempt by

Conkling and his associates to choose the Republican nominee through the

shrewd manipulation of political machinery, and against the wishes of

the rank and file of the party, was a move on the part of the greater

state bosses to get control of the national organization, so that they

might manage it as they managed their local committees and conventions.

The second notable circumstance concerned the collection and expenditure

of the campaign funds.

Even before the convention met, the Republican Congressional Committee,

pursuing the common practice of the time, addressed a letter to all

federal employees, except heads of departments, in which the suggestion

was made that the office holders would doubtless consider it a

"privilege and a pleasure" to contribute to the campaign funds an amount

equal to two per cent. of their salaries. The Republican National

Committee also made its demands on office holders--usually five per

cent. of a year's salary. The Democrats, having no hold on the federal

offices, had to content themselves with the cultivation of the

possibilities in states which they controlled. In New York, Senator

Platt was chairman of the executive committee and he sent a similar

communication to federal employees in the state. Even the office boy in

a rural post office was not overlooked, and when contributions were not

forthcoming, the names of delinquents were sent to their superiors.

Other developments appeared after the election was over. In February,

1881, a dinner was given in honor of Senator S.W. Dorsey, secretary of

the Republican National Committee, to whom credit was given for carrying

the state of Indiana. General Grant presided and grace was asked by

Reverend Henry Ward Beecher. Dorsey was an Arkansas carpet-bagger, who

had been connected with a railroad swindle and was soon, as it turned

out, to be indicted for complication in other frauds. The substance of

the speeches was that the prospect of success in the campaign seemed

waning, that Indiana was essential to success and that Dorsey was the

agent who accomplished the task. Arthur, who was one of the speakers,

explained the _modus operandi_: "Indiana was really, I suppose, a

Democratic State. It had been put down on the books always as a State

that might be carried by close and perfect organization and a great deal

of--(laughter). I see the reporters are present, therefore I will simply

say that everybody showed a great deal of interest in the occasion and

distributed tracts and political documents all through the State."

With the victory accomplished, the politicians turned from the contest

with the common enemy to the question of the division of the spoils;

from the ostensible issue of platforms, to the real issue that Flanagan

had personified. Although the Republicans had presented a united front

to their opponents, there were factional troubles within the party that

all but dwarfed the larger contest. The "Stalwarts" were composed of the

thorough "organization men" like Conkling, Platt and Arthur; the

"Half-breeds" were anti-organization men and more sympathetic with the

administration. The commander of the Stalwarts and one of the most

influential leaders in the country was Roscoe Conkling, Senator from New

York. In person Conkling was a tall, handsome, imperious man, with

something of the theatrical in his appearance and manner. As a

politician he was aggressive, fearless, scornful, shrewd and adroit when

he chose to be, and masterful, always. As an orator he knew how to play

on the feelings of the crowd; his vocabulary, when he turned upon one

whom he disliked, was memorable for its wealth of invective and

ridicule, and especially he uncorked the vials of his wrath on any who

were not strictly organization men. Although an able man and a

successful lawyer, Conkling seems to have had less interest in the

public welfare than in conventions, elections and patronage.

The announcement of Garfield's choice of a Cabinet was the signal for a

fierce patronage fight. James G. Blaine, the choice for Secretary of

State, was distasteful in the extreme to Conkling. Many years before,

during a debate in the House, Blaine had compared Conkling to Henry

Winter Davis as

Hyperion to a satyr, Thersites to Hercules, mud to marble,

dunghill to diamond, a singed cat to a Bengal tiger, a whining

puppy to a roaring lion.

He had contemptuously referred to Conkling's "haughty disdain, his

grandiloquent swell, his majestic, supereminent, overpowering,

turkey-gobbler strut." Accordingly when Garfield disregarded Conkling's

wishes in regard to the representation which New York should have in the

cabinet, Conkling laid the blame upon his old enemy.[3]

As soon as the administration was in office, the Senate met in executive

session to act on appointments, and it appeared that the parties were

evenly divided, the balance of power lying in the hands of two

Independents. President Garfield sent in his list of nominees for office

without consulting Conkling in regard to New York appointments. Among

them was William H. Robertson for the coveted position of collector for

the port of New York. As Robertson had been opposed to Grant and to the

unit rule in the Republican convention, Conkling's rage reached a fever

pitch. In an attempt to discredit the President before the country, he

made public a letter from Garfield giving countenance to the practice of

levying campaign assessments on federal employees. Conkling's point of

view is not difficult to understand. Consultation with the senators from

a state with regard to nominations to offices within its boundaries was

the common custom; Conkling had sunk his dislike of Garfield during the

campaign in order to assist in a party victory; moreover, he and Platt,

the other New York senator, understood that Garfield had agreed to

dispense New York patronage in conformity to the wishes of the

Stalwarts, in case Conkling took the stump. He had carried out his part

of the bargain and now desired his _quid pro quo_.

Meanwhile the Senate was trying to organize and having failed because of

the even division of the parties, stopped the attempt long enough to act

on the nominations. The President then withdrew all except that of

Robertson, thus indicating that offices in which other senators were

concerned would not be filled until the New York case was settled.

Foreseeing that the members would wish to clear the way for their own

interests and that Robertson's nomination was likely to be agreed to,

Conkling and Platt resigned their posts and appealed to the New York

legislature for a re-election as a vindication of the stand they had

taken. As the legislature was Republican and as Vice-President Arthur

went to Albany to urge their case, they seemed likely to succeed; but to

their mortification they were both defeated after an extended contest,

and Conkling retired permanently to private life. Platt, who was

promptly dubbed "Me Too," also relinquished public office, but only for

a time. In the meanwhile, as soon as Conkling and Platt had left the

Senate, the nomination of Robertson had been approved, and Garfield was

triumphant.

Further light was thrown upon political conditions by the investigations

of the "star routes." These were routes in the South and West where

mails had to be carried by stage lines, and were under the control of

the Second Assistant Postmaster-General, Thomas J. Brady. Rumors had

been common for some years that they were a source of corruption.

Garfield's Postmaster-General, Thomas L. James, had already made a

reputation as the reform postmaster of New York, and he set himself

to investigate the reports. Among other things it was discovered that a

combination of public men and contractors had succeeded in raising the

compensation on 134 star routes from $143,169 to $622,808, dividing the

extra profits among themselves. Brady and Senator Dorsey, the active

agent in the campaign in Indiana, were accused of being in the "ring"

and were indicted on the ground of conspiracy to defraud the government.

Brady attempted to block the investigation by threatening Garfield with

an exposure of the campaign methods, and when the threat failed he made

public a letter from the President to "My dear Hubbell," chairman of the

Congressional Committee, similar to that which Conkling had earlier

published. The trials of the conspirators dragged on until 1883 and

resulted in the acquittal of all the accused except one of the least

important. Yet some good was accomplished, for the ring was broken up.

Dorsey retired from public life, and renewed attention was drawn to the

need of better federal officials.

During the course of the trials, the country was shocked by the

assassination of the President on July 2, 1881, at the hands of a

disappointed office seeker named Guiteau. Despite a strong constitution

Garfield grew slowly weaker and died on September 19. The catastrophe

affected the country the more profoundly because of its connection with

the factional quarrel in the Republican party and because, following the

recent murder of the Russian Czar, it seemed to show that democratic

government was no guarantee against violence.[4]

The consternation with which the elevation of Chester A. Arthur to the

presidency was received was not confined to the Democrats. An

oft-repeated remark made at the time was expressive of the opinion of

those best acquainted with the new executive: "'Chet' Arthur President

of the United States! Good God!" In truth Arthur's previous career

hardly justified anything except consternation. He had been identified

always with machine politics and particularly with the Conkling group;

he had been a prominent figure in the opposition to Hayes when the

latter attempted to improve conditions in the New York Customs House;

and had taken an active and undignified share in the quarrel between

Garfield and Conkling. Chester A. Arthur, however, was a combination of

characteristics such as enlist the interest of the student of human

nature. Of Vermont birth, educated at Union College where he had taken

high rank, he had taught school for a time, had entered the practice of

law in New York, had made a good war record, and had been a member of

the Republican party from its beginning. In many ways Arthur was made

for politics. He was the "man of the world" in appearance, polished,

refined, well-groomed, scrupulously careful about his attire, a

_bon-vivant_. Yet he was equally at home in the atmosphere of politics

in the early eighties; a leader of the "Johnnies" and "Jakes," the

"Barneys" and "Mikes" of New York City. Dignity characterized him,

whether in the "knock-down" and "drag-out" caucus or at an exclusive

White House reception. He possessed a refinement, especially in his home

life, that is not usually associated with ward politics but which forms

an element of the "gentleman" in the best sense of that abused word.

Yet they who feared that President Arthur would be like Chester A.

Arthur, the collector of the port, were treated to a revelation. The

suddenness with which the elevation to the responsibility of the

executive's position broadened the view of the President proved that he

possessed qualities which had been merely hidden in the pursuit of

ordinary partisan politics. Platt, expectant of the dismissal of

Robertson, now that a Stalwart was in power, fell back in disgust and

disowned his former associate, for it appeared that Arthur intended to

further the principles of reform. His first annual message to Congress

contained a sane discussion of the civil service and the needed

remedies, which committed him whole-heartedly to the competitive system.

Although he did not go as far as some reformers would have had him, he

went so much farther than was expected that commendation was

enthusiastic, even on the part of the most prominent leaders in the

reform element. In the same message he urged the repeal of the

Bland-Allison silver-coinage act, the reduction of the internal revenue,

revision of the tariff, a better navy, post-office savings banks, and

enlightened Indian legislation. Altogether it was clear that he had laid

aside much of the partisan in succeeding to his high office.[5]

The Chinese problem soon provided him with an opportunity to show an

independence of judgment, together with an indifference to mere

popularity, which were in keeping with the new Arthur, but which were a

surprise to his former associates. As a result of the changes in the

Burlingame treaty, which gave the United States authority to suspend the

immigration of Chinese laborers, Congress passed a bill in 1882 to

prohibit the incoming of laborers for twenty years, western Republicans

joining with the Democrats in its passage.[6] Arthur vetoed the measure

on the ground that a stoppage for so great a period as twenty years

violated those provisions of the treaty which allowed us merely to

suspend immigration, not to prohibit it. An attempt to overcome the veto

failed for lack of the necessary two-thirds majority. Congress did,

however, pass legislation suspending the immigration of laborers for ten

years, and this bill the President signed. Later acts have merely

extended this law or made it more effective.

Arthur also exercised the veto upon a rivers and harbors bill. It had,

of course, long been the custom for the federal government to aid in the

improvement of the harbors and internal water-ways of the country. But

the modest sums of _ante-bellum_ days grew rapidly after the war,

stimulated by immense federal revenues, until the suggested legislation

of 1882 appropriated nearly nineteen million dollars. It provided not

merely for the dredging of great rivers like the Mississippi and Ohio,

but also for the Lamprey River in New Hampshire, the Waccemaw in North

Carolina, together with Goose Rapids and Cheesequake Creek. Some of

these, the opposition declared, might better be paved than dredged.[7]

It might seem that a bill against which such obvious objections could be

raised would be doomed to failure. But the argument of Ransom of North

Carolina, who had charge of the bill in its later stages in the Senate,

seems to have been a decisive one. Somebody had objected that the

members of the committee had cared for the interests of their own

states, merely. Ransom repelled the charge. He showed that the New

England states had been looked out for; "Look next to New York, that

great, grand, magnificent State ... that empire in itself ... Go to

Delaware, little, glorious Delaware." The committee had retained $20,000

for Delaware. "Go next ... to great, grand old Virginia." Virginia had

received something. "Go to Missouri, the young, beautiful, growing,

powerful State of my friend over the way." And so on--all had been

treated with thoughtful care. Ransom was wise in his day and generation.

Although Arthur objected to the bill on the grounds of extravagance and

of the official demoralization which accompanied it, nevertheless

Republicans and Democrats alike joined in passing over the veto an act

which would get money into their home states.

The congressional elections in the fall of 1882 indicated that the

factional disputes among the Republicans, and their failure to reform

conditions in the civil service had presented the opposition with an

opportunity. In the House of Representatives, Republican control was

replaced by a Democratic majority of sixty-nine; the state legislatures

chosen were Democratic in such numbers as to make sure the even division

of the Senate when new members were elected; in Pennsylvania, a

Democratic reformer, Robert E. Pattison, was elected governor, and in

New York another, Grover Cleveland, was successful by the unprecedented

majority of 190,000.

The results of the campaign added interest to a civil service reform

bill which had been drafted by some reformers led by Dorman B. Eaton,

and which had been presented to the Senate by George F. Pendleton, of

Ohio. The debate elicited several points of view. Pendleton set forth

the evils of the existing system of appointments, and emphasized the

superior advantages of appointment after competitive examination. The

Democrats were in distress. Although Pendleton was himself a Democrat

and the party platforms had been advocating reform, nevertheless the

election of 1884 was not far ahead, Democratic success seemed likely,

and the party leaders desired an unrestrained opportunity to fill the

offices with their followers. Senator Williams expressed a conviction

that the Republican party was a party of corruption and continued:

The only way to reform is to put a good honest Democratic

president in in 1884; then turn on the hose and give him a

good hickory broom and tell him to sweep the dirt away.

The Republicans, on their side, were fearful of the same clean sweep

that Williams hoped for, and they therefore looked with greater

equanimity upon a bill which might retain in office the existing

office-holders, most of whom belonged to their party. This aspect of the

situation was not lost upon such Democrats as Senator Brown who moved

that the measure be entitled "a bill to perpetuate in office the

Republicans who now hold the patronage of the government." In the Senate

only five members voted against its passage, but thirty-three absented

themselves; and in the House forty-seven opposed, while eighty-seven

were absent. A little study of the debate makes it clear that the

passage of the act was due to conviction in favor of reform on the part

of a few and to fear of public opinion on the part of many others.

Undoubtedly many of the absentees were members who would not vote for

the measure and were fearful of the results of voting against it. The

President signed the bill January 16, 1883.

The Pendleton act left large discretion in the hands of the President.

It authorized the appointment of a commission of three who should

prepare and put into effect suitable rules for carrying out the law. The

act also provided that government offices should be arranged in classes

and that entrance to any class should be obtained by competitive

examination; that no person should be removed from the service for

refusing to contribute to political funds; and that examinations should

be held in one or more places in each state and territory where

candidates appeared. The system was to be inaugurated in customs

districts and post offices where the number of employees was as many as

fifty, but could be extended later under direction of the President. The

soliciting or receiving of contributions by federal officials of all

grades, for political purposes, was forbidden. With the exceptions just

mentioned, officers could be removed from office as before, but the

purpose of removal was now gone. Since the appointee to the vacancy must

be the successful competitor in an examination, the chief who removed an

officer could not replace him with a personal friend or party worker.

The first commission was headed by Dorman B. Eaton. The work of grading

officials and placing them within the protection of the law began at

once, and by the close of President Arthur's term nearly 16,000 were

classified. Fortunately, the work of the commission was carried on

sensibly and slowly, and no backward steps had to be taken.

The attitude of Congress toward tariff revision illustrates many of the

characteristics of congressional action during the early eighties. In

his first message to Congress, Arthur said that the surplus for the year

was $100,000,000, and therefore urged the reduction of the internal

revenue taxes and the revision of the tariff. In May, 1882, Congress

authorized a tariff commission to investigate and report, and in

conformity with the law Arthur appointed its nine members. All of them

were protectionists and the chairman, John L. Hayes, was secretary of

the Wool Manufacturers' Association. After holding hearings in more than

a score of cities and examining some hundreds of witnesses, the

commission recommended reductions varying from nothing in some cases to

forty or fifty per cent. in others. The average reduction was twenty to

twenty-five per cent.

Using the report as a foundation, the Senate drew up a tariff measure,

added it to a House bill which provided for a reduction of the internal

revenues, and passed the combination. Meanwhile, lobbyists poured into

Washington to guard the interests of the producers of lumber, pig-iron,

sugar and other materials upon which the tariff might be reduced. When

the Senate bill reached the House it contained lower duties than the

protectionist members desired. The latter, although in possession of the

organization of the House, were not strong enough to restore higher

rates, but under the shrewd management of Thomas B. Reed, one of their

number, they were able to refer the bill to a conference committee of

the two houses which contained seven strong protectionists out of ten

members. Reed admitted that the proceedings were "unusual in their

nature and very forcible in their character" but he felt that a change

in the tariff had been promised and that the only way to bring it about

in the face of Democratic opposition was to settle the details "in the

quiet of a conference committee." A "great emergency" having arisen, he

would take extraordinary measures. The bill produced under these

circumstances reduced the internal revenue taxes, lowered some of the

tariff duties and raised others, but left the general level at the point

where it had been at the close of the war. _The Nation_, favorable to

reform, scornfully characterized the act as "taking a shaving off the

duty on iron wire, and adding it to the duty on glue!" Senator Sherman,

a protectionist member of the conference committee, wrote an account of

the whole procedure many years afterward. After commending the spirit

and proposals of the tariff commission and mentioning the successful

efforts of many persons to have their individual interests looked out

for, he expressed a regret that he did not defeat the bill, as he could

have done in view of the evenly balanced party situation in the Senate

at that time.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

The election of 1880 is well treated by Sparks, Stanwood, Andrews, and

Rhodes. Senator G.F. Hoar, the chairman of the Republican nominating

convention, has a valuable chapter in his _Autobiography of Seventy

Years_. Such newspapers as the New York _Times_ and _Tribune_ are

invaluable for a discussion of the conventions.

The events of the administration, such as the tariff debates, the

passage of the civil service law and others are discussed in the special

works mentioned in Chapter V. Consult also: Edward Stanwood, _J.G.

Blaine_; T.C. Platt, _Autobiography_; and A.R. Conkling, _Life and

Letters of Roscoe Conkling_. The _Annual Cyclopaedia _contains several

excellent articles on the tariff (1882, 1883), civil service reform

(1883), star route trials (1882, 1883). H.C. Thomas, _The Return of the

Democratic Party to Power in 1884_ (1919), contains useful chapters on

Garfield and Arthur.

* * * * *

[1] For Platt's account of the annual reunion and banquet of the three

hundred and six--"The Old Guard"--see _Autobiography_, 115.

[2] Garfield's early career as a canal boy led to such campaign songs

as the following:

He early learned to paddle well his own forlorn canoe,

Upon Ohio's grand canal he held the hellum true.

And now the people shout to him: "Lo! 't is for you we wait.

We want to see Jim Garfield guide our glorious ship of state."

[3] William Windom, of Minn., was Secretary of the Treasury; E.T.

Lincoln, of Ill., Secretary of War; Wayne MacVeagh, of Pa.,

Attorney-General; T.L. James, of N.Y., Postmaster-General; W.H. Hunt,

of La., Secretary of the Navy; S.J. Kirkwood, of Ia., Secretary of

the Interior.

[4] The death of the President emphasized the need of a presidential

succession law. Under an act of 1792, the president and vice-president

were succeeded by the president of the Senate and the speaker of the

House. When Garfield died, the Senate had not yet elected a presiding

officer and the House had not met. The death of Arthur would have left

the country without a legal head. The Presidential Succession Act of

1886 remedied the fault by providing for the succession of the cabinet

in order, beginning with the Secretary of State. The presiding officers

of the Senate and House were omitted, because they might not be of the

dominant party.

[5] The cabinet was composed of F.T. Frelinghuysen, N.J., Secretary of

State; C.J. Folger, N.Y., Secretary of the Treasury; R.T. Lincoln, Ill.,

Secretary of War; B.H. Brewster, Pa., Attorney-General; T.O. Howe, Wis.,

Postmaster-General; W.E. Chandler, N.H., Secretary of the Navy; H.M.

Teller, Colo., Secretary of the Interior.

[6] Above, p. 145.

[7] Some thoroughly unselfish members of Congress like Senator Hoar,

however, believed the bill a justifiable one and voted for it. See Hoar,

_Autobiography_, II, chapter VIII.

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