Ohio History Journal

112                                               OHIO HISTORY

out a father. Both were first educated in academies, then in small Ohio de-

nominational colleges, and then each went East to finish his studies. Both

were just beginning to make a name in local politics when the Civil War

broke out. Both led Ohio regiments in battle and both accumulated im-

mense political capital from their wartime feats.

Their careers ran on parallel tracks, which is perhaps why they never

collided. Even though they had similar backgrounds, came from the same

region and engaged in the same line of work, James A. Garfield and Ruth-

erford B. Hayes were never intimate--nor were they rivals. Their lives

occasionally intersected and at times twined together, but, considering

their geographic and political proximity, the two remained surprisingly

distant in their personal relations.

They did not even know each other well until after the Civil War, even

though they had nearly been comrades-in-arms. Shortly after Hayes had

been appointed major in the Twenty-Third Ohio Volunteer Infantry, Gar-

field was offered a lieutenant-colonelcy in the Twenty-Fourth.² Had he ac-

cepted, he and his fellow Ohioan would have trained together at Camp

Clase and campaigned side by side down the Kanawha Valley. Instead,

Garfield took command of the Forty-Second O.V.I. and served in the west-

ern theater of war. He left the army for Congress late in 1863, and Hayes

followed his example two years later. There the two Ohioans finally came

together--as Republican Representatives in the critical post-war period.

Their first meeting was not auspicious. Arriving in Washington in De-

cember of 1865 to take his seat in Congress, Hayes took the measure of his

future colleagues at a caucus of Ohio Republicans. Garfield made a poor

showing. Hayes dismissed him as "a smooth, ready, pleasant man, not very

strong,"³ and the two had little to do with one another during the course

of Hayes's brief congressional career.

While Hayes was inconspicuously filling his seat on the back benches of

Congress, Garfield was winning reputation as "the coming man" of his

state and party. In the spring of 1867, some of his friends urged him to

save the party at home and launched a Garfield-for-Governor boom which

won the support of over forty Ohio newspapers. His close advisers, how-

ever, warned against the movement, suggesting that after another term in

Congress, he might be in line for a Senate seat. Garfield did not really

need to be persuaded. His inclinations led him to prefer the excitement

of national politics, and his talents, which were intellectual and oratorical

rather than administrative, were better suited to Congress than to the

governor's chair. Furthermore, he was sick from overwork--"dizzy, stupid

sick"-and needed a European rest to avoid complete collapse.⁴ Under the

circumstances, a political campaign was out of the question. Garfield spiked

the gubernatorial boom and urged (without enthusiasm) the renomina-

tion of his good friend, Jacob Dolson Cox. Instead, the nomination went

to Hayes, and with it he laid the foundation for his future political career.

In the next few years, the demands of politics would draw Garfield and

Hayes closer together. They cooperated in the campaigns of '68 and '69

GARFIELD and HAYES                                             113

and exchanged friendly letters from time to time. When his second term

was nearing its close, the Governor urged Garfield to be his successor.

Though flattered, the latter was not eager "to make the sacrifice" unless

the party demanded it of him. For one thing, he explained, "my tastes do

not at all lead me in that direction," but more to the point, he could not

afford to take a thousand dollar cut in salary.⁵ As he confided to a friend,

"it would almost ruin me pecuniarily to be a candidate .... Governor

Hayes has lived as economically as any Governor of Ohio ought to live,

and it has not cost him less than $6000 a year. At the end of my term

(should I be elected) I would be almost broken up financially."⁶ By 1871

Garfield was a leading figure in Congress, chairman of an important com-

mittee, with an unlimited political future. Why step down to an under-

paid, ornamental office? "Any Justice of the Peace in Cleveland has more

to do than the Governor of Ohio,"⁷ Garfield observed, and he endorsed

Hayes as just the man to fill the post for another term. "He is an exceed-

ingly efficient Governor, and his conduct has always been wise and pru-

dent."⁸

But Hayes had had enough of politics for awhile and turned to his per-

sonal affairs. In the next few years he suffered a series of political setbacks

that seemed to finish his public career. Nominated for Congress in 1872

against his better judgment, he was defeated as a consequence of the Greeley

movement. Grant rewarded his loyalty with an insultingly inferior office

which Hayes spurned as "small potatoes."⁹ To add to the insult, this nom-

ination which Hayes did not even want was rejected by the Senate. Mean-

while, Garfield was steadily moving into a position of party leadership in

the House of Representatives. His political career was clearly running in

advance of that of his fellow Ohioan.

By 1875 both Hayes and Garfield had come to regard Grant as a disaster

for their party. Hoping to block a third term for the President, Garfield

advised a reconstruction of the Republican party along anti-Grant lines.

As an essential step, he suggested, "We must put forward an unexception-

able man for governor. I think we ought to take Hayes."¹⁰ This time his

colleague accepted the call and in the ensuing campaign endeared himself

to Garfield by championing his pet cause: sound money. "Your ideas as to

our true policy are precisely mine,"¹¹ Hayes assured Garfield.

Soon after Hayes had won his third term, Garfield's political scouts re-

ported that the Governor's name was being mentioned for the presidency.

Some thought the nomination of the bland Ohioan would be stronger at

the polls than that of the better known but more controversial party lead-

ers. "It is alleged by those in favor of Hayes that no story will stick to him

to his injury, that he was born lucky on that score and is just the kind of

man to run because no nickname or slang phrase can be pinned to him."12

Garfield encouraged the Governor's hopes. "I am greatly gratified at the

way you are bearing yourself during these preliminary months of platform

and president making," he wrote. "I have believed from the beginning

that . . . we should give you the solid vote of the Ohio delegation and await

the break which must come as the weaker candidates drop out."13

114                                              OHIO HISTORY

Hayes was deeply moved by Garfield's support,¹⁴ but failed to realize

how ambiguous it was. To Garfield, Hayes was one of those "weaker can-

didates" whom he expected to fall by the wayside. As he told a friend, "I

do not find that the mention of his name excites much enthusiasm outside

of Ohio. He would make an eminently respectable President, and I should

be glad on many accounts to see him elected. Still, he certainly would not

be the strongest man we could choose."¹⁵ Garfield hoped to use Hayes as

a stalking horse to hold the Ohio delegation together until it could swing

its strength at the proper moment to his real choice, James G. Blaine.16

To further this plan, he encouraged Blaine supporters to go to the conven-

tion pledged to the Governor but ready to switch when Hayes weakened.¹⁷

Blaine, however, weakened first, and Hayes was nominated in spite of

Garfield's doubts.

Garfield immediately pledged his support to the nominee and bom-

barded him with good advice. He urged Hayes to wage his campaign on

the issues of civil service reform and resumption of specie payments.18

When he read the letter of acceptance, "a very clear and sensible docu-

ment,"¹⁹ he was flattered to see that what he thought were his suggestions

had been incorporated.²⁰ As the campaign progressed, the two differed

over strategy. The candidate thought the party should stress more emo-

tional issues, such as the danger of handing over the government to the

rebels and the public schools to the Catholics. He repeatedly pressed the

Catholic issue on Garfield and suggested that it should be raised in every

speech.21 Garfield could not get overly excited about the Catholic menace,

but the specter of a Democratic victory, he confessed, "fills me with alarm

and apprehension.^"22 He suspected that the Democrats would try to steal

the election and shuddered at the possibility of such an "irretrievable

calamity."²³

Holding such a partisan commitment, Garfield was placed in a delicate

position when President Grant asked him to witness the count of the re-

turns in the disputed election of 1876 in Louisiana. There he found to

his own satisfaction, at least, that his earlier suspicions of fraud were con-

firmed. On his return from Louisiana, he called on Hayes and assured him

that he had won the state legitimately, despite Democratic skulduggery.²⁴

The Democrats, however, were not so easily persuaded. When Garfield

reached Washington, he found the capitol buzzing with threats of a civil

war if Tilden should be counted out; but Garfield was not alarmed, for

he had developed a strategy to resolve the dispute. As he explained to

Hayes: "two forces are at work. The Democratic businessmen of the coun-

try are more anxious for quiet than for Tilden, and the leading Southern

Democrats in Congress, especially those who are old Whigs, are saying

that they have seen war enough and do not care to follow the lead of their

Northern associates who as Ben Hill says 'were invincible in peace and

invisible in war.' " He had been approached by southerners who had broad-

ly hinted that in return for internal improvements and a less militant Re-

publican Negro policy they would not only support Hayes's claim to the

presidency, but they might even consider supporting a new Republican

116                                                OHIO HISTORY

insist, and on March 11 Garfield wired his supporters in Columbus to

withdraw his name. Three days later, when it seemed for the moment that

Matthews might not win, Garfield was flabbergasted when Hayes casually

suggested that perhaps he should run for the Senate after all. Garfield

ruefully told him that it was too late.³⁰

Later that year, Garfield's suspicion that he had been duped was con-

firmed. As he told his diary, on November 24, "today, Stanley Matthews

told me that he had no thought of running for the Senate until Hayes

suggested it. That he replied it naturally belonged to Garfield who would

probably be nominated at any rate. To this the President replied that it

could be amicably arranged. So after all, the public view is the correct

one that Hayes inaugurated his [Matthews'] candidacy."31

The maneuverings of Hayes on the senatorial question were a bad omen

for Garfield's relations with the President he had helped to elect. Worse

would follow. In the politics of the Gilded Age, the power to award pa-

tronage was the best measure of influence. Garfield found, to his dismay,

that all patronage doors were slammed in his face. For over a month after

the administration began, he vainly tried to obtain a Treasury Department

post for his old friend Horace Steele. Instead, the job was given to a friend

of a Cleveland Congressman. Garfield wrote Hayes a scolding letter,³² but

received no satisfaction. When he suggested a friend as commissioner to

the Paris Exposition, Hayes personally objected; and even though Garfield

"rather sharply" told the President he was being unfair, his wishes were

ignored.33 In 1877 another friend, John Q. Smith, was removed from his

position as Indian Commissioner at the insistence of Carl Schurz, the Sec-

retary of Interior. Garfield took Smith to the White House and told the

President that his treatment "had been outrageous and unjust." Hayes was

unmoved and the Congressman regretfully concluded, "He does not seem

to be master of his administration. I fear he has less force and nerve than

I had supposed."³⁴

Smith was ultimately consoled with another office, but, as a result of

these rebuffs, Garfield was convinced of the President's ingratitude. To a

constituent who asked him to exert his influence for a favor, Garfield sadly

confessed his impotence: "It is almost hopeless to try to secure such ap-

pointments through Congressional influence, as the President pays very

little attention to the wishes of members, and in my own case, has never

yet made but one single appointment on my application."³⁵ Since ap-

pointive offices were the currency of politics, it was clear to Garfield's

friends that he was being shortchanged, considering all he had done for

the party and for Hayes, personally. They were indignant that the Presi-

dent was taking such advantage of Garfield's "good nature and generosity,"

and felt he had been "snubbed and ill treated" by the administration.³⁶

Part of this estrangement, however, was Garfield's fault. He was psycho-

logically incapacitated for having a close friendship with any president.

Even though he and Hayes had once been on good terms, as soon as the

latter was inaugurated, it seemed as if a veil dropped between them. "It

GARFIELD and HAYES                                                117

must be that there is an innate reverence for authority in me," Garfield

reasoned. "I remember how awful in my boyhood was the authority of a

teacher."³⁷

Furthermore, the two men were poles apart in temperament. As Presi-

dent, Hayes was somber, austere and forbidding in his personal relations.

In many ways more polished and sophisticated than the rustic Garfield,

Hayes nonetheless lacked the younger man's playful inquisitive mind,

which could marvel that Hayes was so humorless as to fail to laugh at

Don Quixote or even at the Pickwick Papers.38 Garfield, on the other

hand, was as sentimental and effusive as a schoolboy. He liked to throw

his arm around a friend's shoulder and call him "Old Fellow"! Hayes

would have reacted to such crude familiarity with a disdainful shudder.

Close personal friendship between the two was out of the question, but

respect was not impossible.

The growing gulf between them was caused by more than mere person-

ality differences. Garfield was becoming increasingly disturbed at the drift

of Hayes's policies. His disquiet began with the appointment of the Cabinet.

Although he admired Secretary of State Evarts personally, he distrusted

his "dreamy doctrines."³⁹ He considered the appointment of Carl Schurz

"unfortunate and unwise," because of the Interior Secretary's record of

party irregularity.40 The elevation to the Treasury of John Sherman, whom

he had always distrusted and disliked, "was not satisfactory to me," he

announced.⁴¹ Nor did he approve of Hayes's experiment of putting an

obscure southerner in the Cabinet as a gesture of reconciliation. Hayes, he

observed, "should either take none at all or the greatest .... I fear he is

not quite up to this heroic method."42

Garfield's major policy disputes with the administration were over two

issues for which he had once held tile highest hopes: northern reconcilia-

tion with the South and civil service reform. When southern Democrats

failed to support him for Speaker of tile House, Garfield lost some of his

enthusiasm for sectional reconciliation. Even more disturbing were the

signs that Dixie leaders remained unrepentant despite concessions. "The

policy of tile President has turned out to be a give-away game from the

beginning," Garfield told a carpetbagger friend. "He has . . . offered con-

ciliation everywhere in the South while they have spent their time in

whetting their knives for every Republican they could find." He blamed

all the trouble on tile President's "weakness and vacillation."⁴³ Finally,

in exasperation, Garfield "took occasion to speak very plainly to the Presi-

dent," and warned him that his gestures to the South were splitting the

party.⁴⁴

Garfield's quarrel concerning civil service policy was over means, not

ends. As he told Jacob Dolson Cox: "You and I were among the earliest to

urge Civil Service Reform. We cannot afford to see the movement made a

failure by injudicious management." The Congressman particularly re-

sented Hayes's practice of giving his old army friends office while preaching

against the spoils system. "If nobody is to be appointed because he is your

118                                              OHIO HISTORY

friend or my friend," he complained to Cox, "then nobody should be ap-

pointed because he is any other man's friend. The President himself should

exercise the same self-denial as other officials."⁴⁵ Garfield objected to some

of the civil service regulations as silly and unwise, but, more than that, he

thought the President was tackling the problem from the wrong end. Rather

than a piecemeal reform of the system by executive decree, Garfield thought

that a thorough-going reform through congressional legislation was the only

way to place government service on a permanent and rational basis. As it

was, he could find no system behind Hayes's policy. "The impression is deep-

ening that he is not large enough for the place he holds,"⁴⁶ Garfield sadly

concluded on the first anniversary of the Hayes administration.

Baffled and frustrated, Garfield watched what he thought was an admin-

istration sliding into chaos. "I am almost disheartened at the prospect of

getting anything done by the President," he lamented to an Ohio editor in

1878. "Day by day the party is dropping away from him, and the present

state of things cannot continue much longer without a total loss of his in-

fluence with the Republicans. The situation is gloomy enough I assure

you."⁴⁷ He tried to warn the President of the dangers facing the party, but

Hayes complacently found comfort in the support he had from every col-

lege president and every Protestant paper.48 "It seems to be impossible for a

President to see through the atmosphere of praise in which he lives,"49

said Garfield in exasperation. Although he had nothing against college pres-

idents or Protestant ministers (he had been both himself), he knew that

the support of the party professionals was much more important to the

success of the beleagured administration. But as Garfield listened to the

widespread grumblings of Republican discontent, he feared that Hayes

would prove "an almost fatal blow to his party." In fact, he himself was on

the verge of a public break with the President.50

He was not alone. Indeed, it seemed to Garfield as a party leader that

the Republicans in Congress were falling apart. "The tendency of a part

of our party to assail Hayes and denounce him as a traitor and a man who

was going to Johnsonize the party was very strong, and his defenders were

comparatively few," Garfield later recalled. He pleaded with his colleagues

to give the President's policies a fair trial, and, in order to forestall an open

rupture, he deliberately avoided calling a party caucus for six months hop-

ing, in the meantime, to find an issue that would unite the party.51 Even so,

early in 1878 Garfield found himself the only Ohioan, and virtually the

only midwestern Congressman who voted to sustain the President's veto of

the compromise Bland-Allison silver purchase bill. In fact, the veto was

overridden by a greater majority than had supported the original Bland

House bill, demonstrating to him how little influence Hayes had with Con-

gress. "He has pursued a suicidal policy in Congress," Garfield declared,

"and is almost without a friend."52

In September of 1878, Garfield accompanied the President on a speak-

ing tour of Ohio. He could hardly fail to notice that Hayes was as unpopu-

lar with the people as he was with the party. There was no cheering when

he stepped off the train at Willoughby, and the sullen coolness of the crowd

120                                               OHIO HISTORY

At this stage in Hayes's administration any victory was welcome. Never

particularly popular, even from its inception, it had by now seemingly run

out of steam. If tile party were to avoid dissension and collapse, a fresh issue

would have to be found. But the failure of southern conciliation and the

success of specie resumption had deprived Hayes of two of his most cher-

ished issues, while a third, civil service reform, threatened to divide the

party and alienate needed support. Furthermore, with the Democrats in

control of the House of Representatives, any legislative program would

probably be thwarted. Garfield turned this last drawback into an advantage,

however. By goading the House Democrats into an unwise defense of states

rights and white supremacy, he was able to portray them as unreconstructed

rebels, unworthy of the nation's trust. Hayes's dream of sectional reconcilia-

tion was laid to rest, the bloody shirt was taken out of mothballs and waved

once more; but the Republican party was able to close ranks behind the

familiar issues of the Civil War and the President won luster as a resolute,

plucky defender of national unity and integrity.

During the struggle Garfield was at the President's elbow every step of

the way, stiffening his resolve.55 He was so delighted with the outcome that

he even named his dog "Veto." He had reason to be pleased. The Congress-

man along with the President had given a tired, riven party a fresh issue

around which it could unite, and Garfield himself had emerged as a lead-

ing spokesman for an administration which had once snubbed and rejected

him. He was especially proud of the confidence Hayes now gave him. "I

think I have never had so much intellectual and personal influence over him

as now," he boasted. "He is fully in line with his party."⁵⁶ A few months

later, as the administration was drawing to a close, Garfield could summon

up a charitable evaluation of Hayes that would have been unthinkable two

years earlier: "Whatever his critics may say, he has given the country a very

clean administration and his party has not been handicapped . . . by any

scandals caused by him."⁵⁷

Although Hayes had occasionally hinted to Garfield that he might be

presidential timber, he never imagined that Garfield would be his success-

or.58 But when that news came from the Chicago convention, Hayes was

delighted. "You will receive no heartier congratulations today than mine,"59

he wired his party's new standard-bearer. The nomination of Garfield, he

declared, "was the best that was possible. It is altogether good." In part,

this reaction was due to local pride--"Ohio to the front also and again"--

but, more than that, it was a source of personal satisfaction. The choice of

Garfield, who was so closely identified with his administration, was an en-

dorsement of Hayes personally; while, if the nomination had gone to Grant

or Blaine, it would have been regarded as a repudiation of his work.60

Furthermore, Garfield had been one of the men responsible for Hayes's

election through his efforts in the Louisiana investigation, the Electoral

Commission, and the compromise negotiations preceding the inauguration.

If voters approved of Garfield, they would also be ratifying Hayes's title to

the Presidency, and the cruel title, "His Fraudulency," which had haunted

him for four years could at last be exorcised.

GARFIELD and HAYES                                                121

Now it was Hayes's turn to tell Garfield how to run for President. He

reasoned that about every twenty years the nation was ripe for an election

waged on personalities. Garfield, he thought, was the "ideal candidate" for

such a campaign, "because he is the ideal self-made man." The President

envisioned a canvass conducted with all the hoopla of the famous "Log

Cabin and Cider" campaign of 1840. Garfield's inspirational rise from ob-

scurity should be trumpeted across America. "Let it," he urged, "be thor-

oughly presented--in facts and incidents, in poetry and tales, in pictures,

on banners, in representations, in processions, in watchwords and nick-

names."⁶¹ The candidate himself should stay discreetly in the background,

just as he had done four years earlier. Garfield's only role should be "to sit

crosslegged and look wise until after the election."⁶² The taciturn Hayes

enjoined complete silence on his would-be successor: no speeches and, above

all, "absolute and complete divorce from your inkstand. . . . no letters to

strangers, or to any body else on politics."63

During the campaign, the President took his own advice and stayed in

the background. Partisan electioneering was then regarded beneath presi-

dential dignity. He did aid in every way proper, even though he was gravely

disappointed at Garfield's equivocation over civil service reform in his ac-

ceptance letter. Actually, direct aid from Hayes was neither expected nor

desired in Garfield's camp.

After Garfield's election, Hayes still had four months of his term left to

serve. He used this time to smooth the transition of his successor to power.

So graciously was this clone that the President-elect was moved to write, in

genuine gratitude, "I know of no case, unless it may have been at the oc-

casion of Van Buren's when the transfer of an administration was attended

with such cordiality of personal and political friendship as in this case."64

Throughout the winter, Hayes obliged Garfield by making appointments

at his request, while he, in turn, suggested potential cabinet ministers for

Garfield's consideration. One of these, William M. Hunt, an obscure south-

erner, otherwise unknown to the President-elect, was chosen to be Secre-

tary of the Navy.

The transfer of power involved, also, a mundane transfer of domestic

arrangements. Here Hayes was courtesy itself. He invited Garfield and his

family to be his guests at the White House until the inauguration and even

offered the use of his horses and carriage. Garfield accepted tile hospitality

for his family, but he and his wife decided to stay at a hotel in order to

save the outgoing President the embarrassment of being ignored in his own

house while Garfield's friends (some of whom, such as Blaine, were not

even on speaking terms with Hayes) flocked to congratulate the incoming

Chief Executive.

The offer of the carriage team seemed especially thoughtful. After a life-

time of public service, despite constant accusations of corruption, Garfield

had never been able to afford this luxury. But Hayes, apparently unable to

resist a good thing even at the expense of his friend and successor, spoiled

the gesture by offering to sell the horses. Garfield wisely consulted a veter-

inarian, who reported that Doc was lame, Ben was blemished, and both

GARFIELD and HAYES                                             123

animals were worn out. "Whoever buys them now," he warned, "is getting

the skim milk, the present owner has had the cream."⁶⁵ Garfield declined

the offer.

On the morning of March 1, the President's son Webb met the Garfield

family at the Baltimore and Potomac Depot and escorted the children and

their aged grandmother to the White House. On the cold, rainy morning

of the fourth, the families of both Presidents sat together on Capitol Hill

to watch the ceremonies. The Inaugural Address, which promised to con-

tinue some of Hayes's foreign and domestic policies, was hailed by the

former President as "in every way sound and admirable."⁶⁶ As the parade

began, the sun finally burst through the clouds and Mrs. Hayes, always on

the alert for omens, exclaimed, "in her enthusiastic manner," to Mrs. Gar-

field, "There! All is right now. I have no more anxiety."⁶⁷ Was her expres-

sion of relief for her successor, or for herself safely done with public life at

last? One more luncheon to give, one last receiving line, and then Mrs.

Hayes could leave the house where she and her family had been on display

for four years.

Yet, even after she had packed her bags and returned to Fremont, the

spirit of Lucy Hayes still pervaded the White House. Indeed, her presence

continued in the form of a portrait commissioned by the Women's Chris-

tian Temperance Union which was presented to the new President to re-

mind him of Mrs. Hayes's policy of banishing wine from the White House

table. The practice had won her devotion among temperance advocates

and a derisive nickname, "Lemonade Lucy," from the scoffers. This was

the first crisis of the new administration. For months, Hayes had pleaded

with Garfield to continue his emphasis on temperance and ban alcohol. He

had even hinted that the restoration of wine could defeat the Republican

party.68 James G. Blaine, on the other hand, had urged Garfield to make

his administration a brilliant, social, as well as political success. He sneered

at Mrs. Hayes for having "imported into the White House the usages of

village society."⁶⁹ Although certainly no great drinker himself, Garfield

was inclined to agree with Blaine. He accepted the portrait with thanks,

but pointedly reminded the temperance delegation of "the absolute right

of each family to control its affairs in accordance with the conscience and

convictions of duty of the heads of the family."⁷⁰ The portrait of Mrs.

Hayes was hung in the East Room next to that of Martha Washington, and

wine flowed once more in the Executive Mansion. Hayes was not pleased

with the innovation, but Presidents are seldom completely satisfied with

the men who follow them.

In retirement Hayes busied himself with good works, meanwhile keeping

eye on the doings of his successor. From his vantage point at Spiegel Grove

in Ohio, he looked on the new administration with sympathy mixed with

apprehension. Forgetting the difficulties he had known as President, Hayes

attributed Garfield's problems to a lack of executive experience. "I see more

clearly than ever," he observed in April, ". . . that congressional life is

not the best introduction or preparation for the President's house. Great,

124                                                  OHIO HISTORY

and fully equipped as the general is, there are embarrassments growing out

of his long and brilliant career which Jackson and Lincoln, and Grant and

myself escaped. . . . But [he concluded optimistically], I have confidence in

his purpose and hope for the future."71

This hope, of course, was never fulfilled. Only a few months later Gar-

field was assassinated, before he could prove his fitness to be President.

Hayes fully shared in the deep stunned grief the nation felt at the loss of

its leader. A few years later, however, when emotions had subsided, Hayes

delivered a critical valedictory of Garfield's career;

He was not executive in his talents, not original, not firm--not a

moral force. He leaned on others--could not face a frowning world; his

habits suffered from Washington life. His course at various times when

trouble came betrayed weakness. The Credit Mobilier affair, the De

Golyer business, his letter of acceptance, and many times his vacilla-

tion when leading the House, place him in another list from Lincoln,

Clay, Sumner, and other heroes of our civil history.⁷²

It was an uncharacteristically severe judgment. Garfield deserved better

from Hayes. Yet Garfield had, after all, said just as harsh things of Hayes

throughout the years. Neither man, despite surface similarities, ever quite

understood or fully sympathized with the other.

Nor has the judgment of time been kinder to either of them. Both have

been assigned to the same gray obscurity. Our age lacks sympathy with the

ponderous stuffiness of tile Gilded Age. We prefer our political leaders to

have style and dash, to espouse positive platforms and push for their en-

actment with vigor. Garfield and Hayes held a more limited conception of

the uses of presidential power. Both shared the prevailing laissez faire judg-

ment that the object of government was to enforce the laws. They were not

weak leaders, but they had a limited conception of the role of leadership

and they stayed within that framework.

Too often, the politics of the post Civil War period is treated as if it

were solely a record of crassness and corruption. Yet in Garfield and Hayes

we find leaders who possessed essential integrity and considerable intellec-

tual strength.

Garfield liked to cite a phrase of George Canning: "My road must be

through character to power." In a way, the motto could apply to both Gar-

field and Hayes whose careers demonstrated that not all that glittered in

the Gilded Age was gilt.

THE AUTHOR: Allan Peskin is As-

sociate Professor of History at Cleveland

State University.