which was to be my last. I had decided to enter the law and expected to
attend a law school, but one of my classmates wrote me late in the
summer that there was an opportunity to go into the office of Hammond
and Field at Northampton, so I applied to them and was accepted. After I
had been there a few days a most courteous letter came from the
Honorable William P. Dillingham requesting me to call on him at
Montpelier and indicating he would take me into his office. He recalled
the circumstance when I found him in the Senate after I became Vice
President. But I had already reverted to Massachusetts, where my family
had lived for one hundred and fifty years before their advent into
Vermont. Had his letter reached me sooner probably it would have
changed the whole course of my life.
Northampton was the county seat and a quiet but substantial town, with
pleasant surroundings and fine old traditions reaching back beyond
Jonathan Edwards. It was just recovering from the depression of 1893,
preparing to eliminate its grade crossings and starting some new
industries that would add to the business it secured from Smith College,
which was a growing institution with many hundreds of students.
The senior member of the law firm was John C. Hammond, who was
considered the leader of the Hampshire Bar. He was a lawyer of great
learning and wide business experience, with a remarkable ability in the
preparation of pleadings and an insight that soon brought him to the
crucial point of a case. He was massive and strong rather than elegant,
and placed great stress on accuracy. He presented a cause in court with
ability and skill. The junior member was Henry P. Field, an able lawyer
and a man of engaging personality and polish, who I found was an
Alderman. That appeared to me at the time to be close to the Almighty
in importance. I shall always remember with a great deal of gratitude
the kindness of these two men to me.
That I was now engaged in the serious enterprise of life I so fully
realized that I went to the barber shop and divested myself of the
college fashion of long hair. Office hours were from eight to about six
o’clock, during which I spent my time in reading Kent’s Commentaries and
in helping prepare writs, deeds, wills, and other documents. My evenings
I gave to some of the masters of English composition. I read the
speeches of Lord Erskine, of Webster, and Choate. The essays of Macaulay
interested me much, and the writings of Carlyle and John Fiske I found
very stimulating. Some of the orations of Cicero I translated, being
especially attached to the defense of his friend the poet Archias,
because in it he dwelt on the value and consolation of good literature.
I read much in Milton and Shakespeare and found delight in the shorter
poems of Kipling, Field and Riley.
My first Christmas was made more merry by getting notice that the Sons
of the American Revolution had awarded me the prize of a gold medal
worth about one hundred and fifty dollars for writing the best essay on
“The Principles Fought for in the American Revolution,” in a competition
open to the seniors of all the colleges of the nation. The notice came
one day, and it was announced in the next morning papers, where Judge
Field saw it before I had a chance to tell him. So when he came to the
office he asked me about it. I had not had time to send the news home.
And then I had a little vanity in wishing my father to learn of it first
from the press, which he did. He had questioned some whether I was
really making anything of my education, in pretense I now think, not
because he doubted it but because he wished to impress me with the
desirability of demonstrating it.
But my main effort in those days was to learn the law. The Superior
Court had three civil and two criminal terms each year in Northampton.
Whenever it was sitting I spent all my time in the court room. In this
way I became familiar with the practical side of trial work. I soon came
to see that the counsel who knew the law were the ones who held the
attention of the Judge, took the jury with them, and won their cases.
They were prepared. The office where I was had a very large general
practice which covered every field and took them into all the Courts of
the Commonwealth but little into the Federal Courts. I assisted in the
preparation of cases and went to court with the members of the firm to
watch all their trial work and help keep a record of testimony for use
in the arguments. It was all a work of absorbing interest to me.
The books in the office soon appeared too ponderous for my study, so I
bought a supply of students’ text books and law cases on the principal
subjects necessary for my preparation for the bar. These enabled me to
gain a more rapid acquaintance with the main legal principles, because I
did not have to read through so much unimportant detail as was contained
in the usual treatise prepared for a lawyer’s library, which was usually
a collection of all the authorities, while what I wanted was the main
elements of the law. I was soon conversant with contracts, torts,
evidence, and real property, with some knowledge of Massachusetts
pleading, and had a considerable acquaintance with the practical side
of statute law.
I do not feel that any one ever really masters the law, but it is not
difficult to master the approaches to the law, so that given a certain
state of facts it is possible to know how to marshal practically all the
legal decisions which apply to them. I think counsel are mistaken in the
facts of their case about as often as they are mistaken in the law.
All my waking hours were so fully employed that I found little time for
play. My college was but eight miles distant, yet I did not have any
desire to go back to the intercollegiate games, though I was accustomed
to attend the alumni dinner at commencement. There was a canoe club
which I joined, on the Connecticut, about a mile over the meadow from
the town where I often went on Sunday afternoons. I was full of the joy
of doing something in the world. Another reason why I discarded all
outside enterprises and kept strictly to my work and my books was
because I was keeping my monthly expenditures within thirty dollars
which was furnished me by my father. He would gladly have provided me
more had I needed it, but I thought that was enough and was determined
to live within it, which I did. Not much was left for any unnecessary
pleasantries of life.
Soon after I entered the office Mr. Hammond was elected District
Attorney and Mr. Field became Mayor of the city, so that I saw something
of the working of the city government and the administration of the
criminal law.
The first summer I was in Northampton came the famous free silver
campaign of 1896. When Mr. Bryan was nominated he had the support of
most of the local Democrats of the city, but he lost much of it before
November. One of them sent a long communication to a county paper
indorsing him. This I answered in one of the city papers. When I was
home that summer I took part in a small neighborhood debate in which I
supported the gold standard. The study I put on this subject well repaid
me. Of course Northampton went handsomely for McKinley.
With the exception of a week or two at home in the summer of 1896 I kept
on in this way with my work from September, 1895, to June, 1897. I then
felt sufficiently versed in the law to warrant my taking the examination
for admission to the Bar. It was conducted by a County Committee of
which Mr. Hammond was a member, but as I was his student he left the
other two, Judge William G. Bassett and Judge William P. Strickland, to
act on my petition. I was pronounced qualified by them and just before
July 4, 1897, I was duly admitted to practice before the Courts of
Massachusetts. My preparation had taken about twenty months. Only after
I was finally in possession of my certificate did I notify my father. He
had expected that my studies would take another year, and I wanted to
surprise him if I succeeded and not disappoint him if I failed. I did
not fail. I was just twenty-five years old and very happy.
It was a little over eleven years from the time I left home for the
Academy in the late winter of 1886 until I was admitted to the Bar in
the early summer of 1897. They had been years full of experience for me,
in which I had advanced from a child to a man. Wherever I went I found
good people, men and women, and young folks of my own age, who had won
my respect and affection. From the hearthstone of my father’s fireside
to the court room at Northampton they had all been kind and helpful to
me. Their memory will always be one of my most cherished possessions.
My formal period of education was passed, though my studies are still
pursued. I was devoted to the law, its reasonableness appealed to my
mind as the best method of securing justice between man and man. I fully
expected to become the kind of country lawyer I saw all about me,
spending my life in the profession, with perhaps a final place on the
Bench. But it was decreed to be otherwise. Some Power that I little
suspected in my student days took me in charge and carried me on from
the obscure neighborhood at Plymouth Notch to the occupancy of the White
House.
THE LAW AND POLITICS
CHAPTER THREE
THE LAW AND POLITICS
It is one thing to know how to get admitted to the Bar but quite another
thing to know how to practice law. Those who attend a law school know
how to pass the examinations, while those who study in an office know
how to apply their knowledge to actual practice. It seems to me that the
best course is to go to a school and then go into an office where the
practice is general. In that way the best preparation is secured for a
thorough comprehension of the great basic principles of the profession
and for their application to existing facts. Still, one who has had a
good college training can do very well by starting in an office. But in
any case he should not go into the law because it appears to be merely a
means of making a living, but because he has a real and sincere love for
the profession, which will enable him to make the sacrifices it
requires.
When I decided to enter the law it was only natural, therefore, that I
should consider it the highest of the professions. If I had not held
that opinion it would have been a measure of intellectual dishonesty for
me to take it for a life work. Others may be hampered by circumstances
in making their choice, but I was free, and I went where I felt the
duties would be congenial and the opportunities for service large. Those
who follow other vocations ought to feel the same about them, and I hope
they do.
My opinion had been formed by the high estimation in which the Bench and
Bar were held by the people in my boyhood home in Vermont. It was
confirmed by my more intimate intercourse with the members of the
profession with whom I soon came in contact in Massachusetts after I
went there to study law in the autumn of 1895. When I was admitted to
practice two years later the law still occupied the high position of a
profession. It had not then assumed any of its later aspects of a trade.
The ethics of the Northampton Bar were high. It was made up of men who
had, and were entitled to have, the confidence and respect of their
neighbors who knew them best. They put the interests of their clients
above their own, and the public interests above them both. They were
courteous and tolerant toward each other and respectful to the Court.
This attitude was fostered by the appreciation of the uprightness and
learning of the Judges.
Because of the short time I had spent in preparation I remained in the
office of Hammond and Field about seven months after I was admitted to
the Bar. I was looking about for a place to locate but found none that
seemed better than Northampton. A new block called the Masonic Building
was under construction on lower Main Street, and when it was ready for
occupancy I opened an office there February 1, 1898. I had two rooms,
where I was to continue to practice law for twenty-one years, until I
became Governor of Massachusetts in 1919. For my office furniture and a
good working library I paid about $800 from some money I had saved and
inherited from my grandfather Moor. My rent was $200 per year. I began
to be self-sustaining except as to the cost of my table board, which was
paid by my father until September, but thereafter all my expenses I
paid from the fees I received.
I was alone. While I had many acquaintances that I might call friends I
had no influential supporters who were desirous to see me advanced and
were sending business to me. I was dependent on the general public; what
I had, came from them. My earnings for the first year were a little over
$500.
My interest in public affairs had already caused me to become a member
of the Republican City Committee, and in December, 1898, I was elected
one of the three members of the Common Council from Ward Two. The office
was without salary and not important, but the contacts were helpful.
When the local military company returned that summer from the Cuban
Campaign I did my best to get an armory built for them. I was not
successful at that time but my proposal was adopted a little later. This
was the beginning of an interest in military preparation which I have
never relinquished.
During 1899 I began to get more business. The Nonotuck Savings Bank was
started early that year, and I became its counsel. Its growth was slow
but steady. In later years I was its President, a purely honorary place
without salary but no small honor. There was legal work about the county
which came to my office, so that my fees rose to $1,400 for the second
year.
I did not seek reelection to the City Council, as I knew the City
Solicitor was to retire and I wanted that place. The salary was $600,
which was not unimportant to me. But my whole thought was on my
profession. I wanted to be City Solicitor because I believed it would
make me a better lawyer. I was elected and held the office until March,
1902. It gave me a start in the law which I was ever after able to hold.
The office was not burdensome and went along with my private practice.
It took me into Court some. In a jury trial I lost two trifling cases in
an action of damages against the city for taking a small strip of land
to widen a highway. I felt I should have won these cases on the claim
that the land in question already belonged to the highway. But I
prevailed in an unimportant case in the Supreme Court against my old
preceptor Mr. Hammond. It is unnecessary to say that usually my cases
with him were decided in his favor. The training in this office gave me
a good grasp of municipal law, that later brought some important cases
to me.
In addition to the mortgage and title work of the Savings Bank, I
managed some real estate, and had considerable practice in the
settlement of estates. Through a collection business I also had some
insolvency practice. I recall an estate in Amherst and one in
Belchertown, both much involved in litigation, which I settled. In each
case Stephen S. Taft of Springfield was the opposing counsel. Perhaps
there is no such thing as a best lawyer, any more than there is a best
book, or a best picture, but to me Mr. Taft was the best lawyer I ever
saw. If he was trying a case before a jury he was always the thirteenth
juryman, and if the trial was before the court he was always advising
the Judge. But he did not win these cases. He became one of my best
friends, and we were on the same side in several cases in later years.
One time he said to me: “Young man, when you can settle a case within
reason you settle it. You will not make so large a fee out of some one
case in that way, but at the end of the year you will have more money
and your clients will be much better satisfied.” This was sound advice
and I heeded it. People began to feel that they could consult me with
some safety and without the danger of being involved needlessly in long
and costly litigation in court. Very few of my clients ever had to pay a
bill of costs. I suppose they were more reasonable than other clients,
for they usually settled their differences out of court. This course did
not give me much experience in the trial of cases, so I never became
very proficient in that art, but it brought me a very satisfactory
practice and a fair income.
I worked hard during this early period. The matters on which I was
engaged were numerous but did not involve large amounts of money and the
fees were small. For three years I did not take the time to visit my old
home in Vermont, but when I did go I was City Solicitor. My father began
to see his hopes realized and felt that his efforts to give me an
education were beginning to be rewarded.
What I always felt was the greatest compliment ever paid to my
professional ability came in 1903. In the late spring of that year
William H. Clapp, who had been for many years the Clerk of the Courts
for Hampshire County died. His ability, learning and painstaking
industry made him rank very high as a lawyer. The position he held was
of the first importance, for it involved keeping all the civil and
criminal records of the Superior Court and the Supreme Judicial Court
for the County. The Justices of the Supreme Judicial Court appointed me
to fill the vacancy. I always felt this was a judgment by the highest
Court in the Commonwealth on my professional qualifications. Had I been
willing to accept the place permanently I should have been elected to it
in the following November. The salary was then $2,300, and the position
was one of great dignity, but I preferred to remain at the Bar, which
might be more precarious, but also had more possibilities. Later events
now known enable any one to pass judgment on my decision. Had I decided
otherwise I could have had much more peace of mind in the last
twenty-five years.
As the Clerk of the Courts I learned much relating to Massachusetts
practice, so that ever after I
[Illustration:
Underwood & Underwood
CALVIN COOLIDGE
_At the age of seven_]
knew what to do with all the documents in a trial, which would have been
of much value to me if I had not been called on to give so much time to
political affairs. These took up a large amount of my attention in 1904
after I went back to my office, so that my income diminished during that
year. I had been chosen Chairman of the Republican City Committee. It
was a time of perpetual motion in Massachusetts politics. The state
elections came yearly in November, and the city elections followed in
December. This was presidential year. While I elected the
Representatives to the General Court by a comfortable margin at the
state election I was not so successful in the city campaign. Our Mayor
had served three terms, which had always been the extreme limit in
Northampton, but he was nominated for a fourth time. He was defeated by
about eighty votes. We made the mistake of talking too much about the
deficiencies of our opponents and not enough about the merits of our own
candidates. I have never again fallen into that error. Feeling one year
was all I could give to the chairmanship I did not accept a reelection
but still remained on the committee.
My earnings had been such that I was able to make some small savings. My
prospects appeared to be good. I had many friends and few enemies. There
was a little more time for me to give to the amenities of life. I took
my meals at Rahar’s Inn where there was much agreeable company
consisting of professional and business men of the town and some of the
professors of Smith College. I had my rooms on Round Hill with the
steward of the Clarke School for the Deaf. While these relations were
most agreeable and entertaining I suppose I began to want a home of my
own.
* * * * *
After she had finished her course at the University of Vermont Miss
Grace Goodhue went to the Clarke School to take the training to enable
her to teach the deaf. When she had been there a year or so I met her
and often took her to places of entertainment.
In 1904 Northampton celebrated its two hundred and fiftieth anniversary.
One evening was devoted to a reception for the Governor and his Council,
given by the Daughters of the American Revolution. Miss Goodhue
accompanied me to the City Hall where the reception was held, and after
strolling around for a time we sat down in two comfortable vacant
chairs. Soon a charming lady approached us and said that those chairs
were reserved for the Governor and Mrs. Bates and that we should have to
relinquish them, which we did. Fourteen years later when we had received
sufficient of the election returns to show that I had been chosen
Governor of Massachusetts I turned to her and said, “The Daughters of
the American Revolution cannot put us out of the Governor’s chair now.”
From our being together we seemed naturally to come to care for each
other. We became engaged in the early summer of 1905 and were married at
her home in Burlington, Vermont, on October fourth of that year. I have
seen so much fiction written on this subject that I may be pardoned for
relating the plain facts. We thought we were made for each other. For
almost a quarter of a century she has borne with my infirmities, and I
have rejoiced in her graces.
After our return from a trip to Montreal we staid a short time at the
Norwood Hotel but soon started housekeeping. We rented a very
comfortable house that needed but one maid to help Mrs. Coolidge do her
work. Of course my expenses increased, and I had to plan very carefully
for a time to live within my income. I know very well what it means to
awake in the night and realize that the rent is coming due, wondering
where the money is coming from with which to pay it. The only way I know
of escape from that constant tragedy is to keep running expenses low
enough so that something may be saved to meet the day when earnings may
be small.
When the city election was approaching in December I was asked to be a
candidate for School Committee. It was a purely honorary office, which
had no attraction for me, but I consented and was nominated. To my
surprise another Republican took out nomination papers, which split the
party and elected a Democrat. The open compliment was that I had no
children in the schools, but the real reason was that I was a
politician. That reputation I had acquired by long service on the party
committee helping elect our candidates. The man they elected gave a
useful service for several years and left me free to turn to avenues
which were to be much more useful to me in ways for public service. I
was also better off attending to my law practice and my new home.
The days passed quietly with us until the next autumn, when we moved
into the house in Massasoit Street that was to be our home for so long.
I attended to the furnishing of it myself, and when it was ready Mrs.
Coolidge and I walked over to it. In about two weeks our first boy came
on the evening of September seventh. The fragrance of the clematis which
covered the bay window filled the room like a benediction, where the
mother lay with her baby. We called him John in honor of my father. It
was all very wonderful to us.
We liked the house where our children came to us and the neighbors who
were so kind. When we could have had a more pretentious home we still
clung to it. So long as I lived there, I could be independent and serve
the public without ever thinking that I could not maintain my position
if I lost my office. I always made my living practicing law up to the
time I became Governor, without being dependent on any official salary.
This left me free to make my own decisions in accordance with what I
thought was the public good. We lived where we did that I might better
serve the people.
My main thought in those days was to improve myself in my profession. I
was still studying law and literature. Because I thought the experience
would contribute to this end I became a candidate for the Massachusetts
House of Representatives. In a campaign in which I secured a large
number of Democratic votes, many of which never thereafter deserted me,
I was elected by a margin of about two hundred and sixty.