When James Garfield died and Chester A. Arthur became President in September 1881, one prominent Republican exclaimed: "Chet Arthur President of the United States. Good God!" His chagrin was understandable. Arthur had never held elective office until he became Vice President; he was known largely as a "Gentleman Boss" closely associated with Roscoe Conkling's New York political machine. "Arthur for President!" former President Hayes wrote, almost in disbelief, in his diary. "Conkling the power behind the throne, superior to the throne!" For the New York Times Arthur was "about the last man who would be considered eligible to that position, did the choice depend on the voice either of a majority of his own party or of a majority of the people of the United States."

Arthur, who liked to be called "General" after his Civil War rank, was a "spoilsman's spoilsman." A few months before Garfield's assassination, speaking at a Republican banquet in New York, he had shocked reformers by his levity about politics. The banquet was in honor of Stephen W. Dorsey, Secretary of the Republican National Committee, and Arthur began his speech by teasing the Republican notables there about the methods used during the 1880 campaign, especially in Indiana. "I don't think we had better go into the minute secrets of the campaign, so far as I know them," he said playfully, "because I see the reporters are present, who are taking it all down; and, while there is no harm in talking about some things after the election is over you cannot tell what they may make of it, because the inauguration has not yet taken place. Still, if I should get to going about the secrets of the campaign, there is no saying what I might say to make trouble between now and the 4th of March." After a few more remarks along this line, accompanied by cheers, laughter, and applause from the banqueters, Arthur got to Dorsey. "The first business of the convention," he said, "was to carry Indiana, and Mr. Dorsey was selected as the leader of the forlorn hope to carry Indiana. That was a cheerful task." The crowd roared with laughter, and Arthur went on: "Indiana was really, I suppose, a Democratic State. It has always been put down in the book as a State that might be carried by close and careful and perfect organization and a great deal of-" Here he paused; and there were immediate cries from the audience of "soap" (purchased votes), followed by more laughter. "If it were not for the reporters I would tell you the truth," continued Arthur, "because I know you are intimate friends and devoted adherents to the Republican party." He sat down. When it came time for Henry Ward Beecher to speak, the eloquent Brooklyn preacher announced that he was not present as a clergyman and that it was a good thing for some people in the audience that he wasn't. The crowd roared with delight at this, and a little later the meeting broke up amid general hilarity. But when reports Of Arthur's remarks appeared in the newspapers the following day, many people were extremely upset. "The cynicism of this, coming from such a veteran Machinist as Mr. Arthur, was not surprising," said E. L. Godkin, editor of The Nation, "but people were rather shocked ...when they remembered that it was from the lips not of Mr. Conkling's 'lieutenant' in this city, but of the Vice-President-elect of the United States."

When Arthur became President, however, Governor Foster of Ohio predicted that people "will find that Vice-President Arthur and President Arthur are different men." He seemed to be right. Arthur's brief inaugural address received much praise; his break with his old associates in machine politics surprised and pleased his critics; and his warm support for civil-service reform (which Conkling called "snivel service") led many people to revise their opinions of the former spoilsman drastically. Said Mark Twain: "I am but one in 55,000,000; still, in the opinion of this one-fifty-five millionth of the country's population, it would be hard to better President Arthur's Administration." Even Godkin found words of praise for Arthur; but Arthur's former associates were disgruntled. "He isn't 'Chet' Arthur any more," said one spoilsman sadly, "he's the President." "Why, General," said a New York Republican when Arthur refused him a political favor, "if you were still president of the New York County Republican Committee, you would be here right now asking for this very thing." "I certainly would," agreed Arthur; "but since I came here I have learned that Chester A. Arthur is one man and the President of the United States is another." Conkling, needless to say, was not impressed. "I have but one annoyance with the Administration of President Arthur," he sneered, "and that is, in contrast with it, the Administration of Hayes becomes respectable, if not heroic."

Arthur not only pleased reformers by his break with the spoils system; he also delighted Washington society by his hospitality. He had the White House renovated before moving in and transformed it from the gloomy mansion of Hayes's and Garfield's days into a bright, lively, sociable place where good liquor and excellent food became the rule and serious as well as popular music could be heard on occasion. With his fastidious attire, impeccable manners, and affable but dignified demeanor, Arthur came to be known as "the prince of hospitality" and even as something of a dandy. "It is not that he is handsome and agreeable-for he was both long ago," said one admirer, "but it is his ease, polish and perfect manner that make him the greatest society lion we have had in many years." Since Arthur's wife had died just before he became President, his sister acted as White House hostess; she was just as popular among Washington bon vivants as Arthur himself Arthur was not the most diligent of Presidents; the social side of the Presidency was just about the only aspect of it that he really enjoyed. "President Arthur," a White House clerk once confided, "never did today what he could put off until tomorrow." He was frequently late to meetings; but he always carried a "property basket" with him, filled with official-looking documents, to give the impression that he had been hard at work.

Arthur won much good will while he was in the White House; but he never became enormously popular, so most Americans were ready to see him retire in 1885. He had little support for renomination in 1884: reformers still were not quite sold on him; the Half Breeds continued to regard him as a Stalwart; and the Stalwarts regarded him as a renegade. But Arthur had no serious designs on the nomination anyway. He suffered from Bright's disease and his health had steadily declined during the last months of his Presidency. Queried about his plans for the future, he said, "Well, there doesn't seem anything else for an ex-President to do but to go into the country and raise big pumpkins." He went to New York City, not the country, after leaving the White House, and died the following year of a massive cerebral hemorrhage at the age of fifty-six.

Source: Paul F. Boller Jr., Presidential Anecdotes (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), 173-76.