When a Politician in Crisis Finds His Conscience Through the Most Unlikely Presidential Advisor

It’s not every day a president turns to a complete stranger to find his moral compass — especially a stranger who calls herself his “little dwarf.” But that’s exactly what happened to Chester A. Arthur. In the most improbable of scenarios, a disabled woman from New York—someone most people would never have noticed—took it upon herself to become his unsolicited advisor, offering him everything from advice to scolding. The Julia Sand letters to Chester A. Arthur are a remarkable chapter in presidential history.

Arthur, who ascended to the presidency amid a national crisis and deep public distrust, had all the cards stacked against him. He was the “accidental president,” who was abruptly elevated to the presidency when an assassin’s bullet took the life of President James Garfield. Prior to that fateful moment, he was known as a man who earned his position and wealth through the corrupt spoils system of the civil service. He was seen as a puppet for New York Senator James Blaine. Blaine was one of the biggest opponents of civil service reform. Consequently, Arthur’s presidency seemed to dash any hopes for fixing the broken system of handing out government jobs.

With Garfield still clinging to life, all eyes turned to Arthur. What kind of president might he be? Countless political advisors sought to influence him in those early days. Who could have predicted that the most influential voice would come from the most unlikely presidential advisor? This refreshingly different voice came from a woman with sharp wit, keen political insight, and a complete lack of tact. That woman was Julia I. Sand — an invalid with nothing to lose, and a surprisingly bold opinion of what the president of the United States should be doing.

How did this “little dwarf,” as she referred to herself, come to wield such influence over the leader of the free world? And what does it say about Arthur that he listened?

A Dwarf Writes to the Giant: Julia’s First Letter to Arthur

Chester A. Arthur was still the vice president when he first encountered Julia Sand’s counsel. Sitting in her New York City home, disabled and housebound, she wrote a letter to Arthur that he most definitely didn’t ask for. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“The hours of Garfield’s life are numbered—before this meets your eye, you may be President,” she wrote, cutting right to the point. “The people are bowed in grief; but—do you realize it?—not so much because he is dying, as because you are his successor.”

Talk about an introduction. But Julia Sand wasn’t interested in easing Arthur into his new reality. She saw an opportunity to shake him up, to jolt him out of his political past and force him to confront what was at stake. In her view, Arthur needed to get his act together—and fast.

“You cannot slink back into obscurity, if you would,” she reminded him. “A hundred years hence, schoolboys will recite your name in the list of Presidents & tell of your administration. And what shall posterity say? It is for you to choose whether your record shall be written in black or in gold.”

That’s how Julia Sand began her unsolicited campaign as Arthur’s moral advisor, or what she liked to call his “little dwarf.” For the next two years, she continued to write letters—23 in total—offering him a mix of praise, advice, reprimands, and sometimes downright scolding. And, most surprisingly, Arthur seemed to listen.

Who Was Julia I. Sand?

Julia Sand was no ordinary letter writer; she was the eighth daughter of Christian Henry Sand, a German immigrant who became president of the Metropolitan Gas Light Company of New York. By the time she started writing to President Arthur, her life was marked by tragedy and illness. One of her brothers died in the Civil War, and she herself was bedridden due to spinal issues, lameness, and deafness. Yet, despite her frailties, Sand’s mind was anything but idle. She enjoyed reading French, loved poetry, and traveled to fashionable places like Saratoga Springs and Newport.

Her letters reveal her sharp intellect and deep interest in politics, likely fueled by personal loss. But Sand’s self-awareness and humor shine through, even in her state of confinement. “I am a poor little woman,” she wrote, “who would have no comfort in life if she could not occasionally scold some very big man.” And scold she did—addressing her letters to the biggest man of them all: the President of the United States.

It’s remarkable to think that from her modest home, Sand believed she could influence the course of a presidency. But for this youngest daughter, often treated like a child, writing to Arthur was a way to finally have her voice heard.

The Scandalous Background of Chester A. Arthur

To understand why Julia Sand’s letters had the impact they did, we need to look at Arthur’s situation in 1881. Arthur wasn’t exactly entering the presidency with a clean slate. In fact, it’s a wonder he wasn’t booed out of Washington before he even took office.

Before becoming Garfield’s vice president, Arthur was the poster child for political patronage and corruption. He made a name for himself as a loyal cog in the Republican machine, specifically the Stalwart faction, which was dedicated to maintaining the status quo—no matter how dirty it was. During his time as collector of the New York Customs House, Arthur’s office became a notorious hub for patronage jobs and graft. He was the embodiment of the corrupt political machine through and through, and most of the country knew it.

Then came Garfield’s assassination. Charles Guiteau’s cry upon shooting Garfield, “I am a Stalwart, and now Arthur is president” only deepened the suspicion surrounding Arthur. Was he involved? Did this assassination happen for his benefit? Most Americans weren’t so sure that Chester A. Arthur wasn’t complicit, if not in action, then at least in spirit.

That’s where Julia Sand saw a glimmer of hope. She didn’t view Arthur as beyond redemption. She believed that the gravity of the presidency might awaken a better version of him—if only he could be convinced to let it.

Julia’s Dwarf-Sized Advice: Sand’s Ongoing Campaign

Once Arthur officially became president, Sand’s letters kept coming, offering him everything from detailed political advice to reminders to take care of his health. The most remarkable thing is that Arthur took her seriously. For a man whose political career was steeped in corruption, he seemed almost desperate for some sort of moral north star. Julia Sand, with her clear-headed analysis and unwavering moral compass, became that star.

Unlike the sycophants and political operatives who surrounded Arthur, Sand had no personal stake in his success or failure. She didn’t want anything from him, and she wasn’t tied to any political machine. This gave her the freedom to speak with unvarnished honesty, and Arthur, it seems, found that refreshing.

She referred to herself as his “little dwarf” who served much like a dwarf in a royal court who could tell the king hard truths, even when she assured him that it pained her more to write them, than for Arthur to read them. He may have been surrounded by advisors, but none of them offered the blunt wisdom of his little dwarf.

In her letters, Sand urged Arthur to rise above the dirty politics that had defined his career. She encouraged him to distance himself from the likes of the political hacks with whom he had always been associated and to pursue civil service reform. When Arthur vetoed the Rivers and Harbors Act—a bloated piece of pork-barrel legislation—Sand was overjoyed, praising him for taking a stand against wasteful spending.

As Arthur grew into his job, Julia was quick to praise him. She complimented him on “manner in which you have borne yourself through this long, hard ordeal” but couldn’t resist a gentle nudge to let the nation heal before making any nominations. She often reminded him to distance himself from New York machine politics, quipping, “The Mr. Arthur in Washington is another person.” Julia also had strong opinions about Arthur’s associates, especially former President Grant, whom she viewed as “unintellectual.” “Keep him as a friend to smoke segars with,” she advised, “but don’t consult him on national affairs.”

When it came to political matters, Julia’s letters were packed with unsolicited—but insightful—commentary on cabinet picks and policy decisions. She advocated for keeping James G. Blaine in his role as Secretary of State, noting, “In the Cabinet, he is out of mischief. Out of the Cabinet, there is no knowing what he would be in.” And when Arthur made a particularly good move, like his veto of the 1882 Rivers and Harbors Act, Julia practically wept with joy. Yet, she wasn’t afraid to criticize him, particularly when she saw his actions contributing to the Republican Party’s defeat in November 1882. She reminded him pointedly, “It remains for you to decide what you will make of this defeat.”

Her strongest criticism came on the subject of Chinese exclusion legislation, which she condemned as a “disgraceful retrograde movement.” She implored Arthur to veto the bill, denouncing Congress for passing “idiotic legislation” and warning that such actions would not only tarnish his administration but also his legacy. When Arthur initially vetoed the bill, Julia was thrilled, but his eventual signature on a revised version brought her fury down upon him. “Are you going to let your administration be a failure?” she demanded, reminding him, “nothing that you can do after will obliterate your Presidential record.”

Julia’s letters were a mix of praise, critique, and unwavering conviction, serving as a reminder to Arthur that history was watching. And, as she saw it, she was the little dwarf whispering in his ear, nudging him toward greatness—whether he liked it or not.

In many ways, Sand became the conscience Arthur so desperately needed, and though he never responded to her letters in writing, there’s evidence that he read them closely. Arthur famously and tragically burned almost all of his official papers in the last days of his life. Despite that, he kept every one of his little dwarf’s letters.

Although it does not seem that he ever wrote back to her, he gave her a big surprise in August 1882 when he dropped by her New York residence, unannounced. The visit didn’t go quite as Sand had imagined—most of her family was home, and she didn’t get the private conversation she had hoped for—but it was clear from his comments that Arthur had been paying attention to her letters.

The Little Dwarf’s Influence

So, what exactly did Arthur take away from his “little dwarf’s” advice? Historians now view his presidency in a much more favorable light than they did at the time. Far from being the corrupt puppet many expected, Arthur became an advocate for civil service reform, most notably with the passage of the Pendleton Act in 1883, which aimed to curb the spoils system that had defined his political career.

While it’s impossible to say how much of this change was due to Sand’s influence, it’s clear that her letters had an impact. In a time when women had little formal power, Sand found a way to wield enormous influence through the sheer force of her intellect and moral clarity. Arthur may have had an entire cabinet of advisors, but it was the voice of a woman, tucked away in her New York City home, that often seemed to guide him.

A Tragic End for a Remarkable Woman

Sadly, Julia Sand’s story doesn’t have a happy ending. In 1886, just a year after Arthur left office, Sand was committed to an asylum. The reasons for her commitment remain unclear, but it appears that her physical and mental health had deteriorated over time. She spent the remainder of her life in institutions, passing away in 1933. Her family, perhaps not fully understanding the significance of her letters, destroyed much of her personal correspondence.

Julia seemed to have some understanding that her correspondence might make a difference. “If I could think that I had influenced you in the smallest degree” in following “the path of duty,” Julia wrote Arthur in May 1882, “I should feel that I had not lived in vain.”

Clearly she had more than a little influence. Even as he ordered many of his personal papers destroyed near the end of his life, he saved all 23 of her letters, perhaps realizing that they were too important to discard. You can read them through the digital collection of the Chester A. Arthur papers of the Library of Congress. They are a testament to the remarkable influence one woman had on a president in crisis.

When Arthur stated his philosophy of life, it is difficult not to imagine Julia Sand’s influence: “Be fit for more than the thing you are now doing. Let everyone know that you have a reserve in yourself; that you have more power than you are now using. If you are not too large for the place you occupy, you are too small for it.”

Conclusion: A Little Dwarf with a Big Impact

Julia I. Sand may have been a self-proclaimed “little dwarf,” but her impact on Chester A. Arthur—and on American history—was anything but small. In a time when women had few opportunities to engage in politics, Sand found a way to make her voice heard. Her letters served as a moral compass for a president struggling to find his way, and though she remains largely unknown today, her influence on Arthur’s presidency is undeniable.

Sometimes, it seems, the most powerful advice comes from the most unexpected places. For Chester A. Arthur, that advice came from a dwarf-sized conscience, quietly writing from a small room in New York City.

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