unemployment and a good deal of distress in agriculture because of the
very low prices of farm produce and the shrinkage in land values. When I
began to make political speeches in the campaign of 1922 I soon realized
that the country had large sections that were disappointed because a
return of prosperity had not been instantaneous. Moreover the people had
little knowledge of the great mass of legislation already accomplished,
which was to prove so beneficial to them within a few months in the
future. After I had related some of the record of the relief measures
adopted they would come to me to say they had never heard of it and
thought nothing had been done. While my party still held both the House
and Senate it lost many seats in the election, which made the closing
session of Congress full of complaints tinged with bitterness against an
administration under which many of them had been defeated. That being
the natural reaction it is useless to discuss its propriety.
While these years in Washington had been full of interest they were not
without some difficulties. Its official circles never accept any one
gladly. There is always a certain unexpressed sentiment that a new
arrival is appropriating the power that should rightfully belong to
them. He is always regarded as in the nature of a usurper. But I think I
met less of this sentiment than is usual, for I was careful not to be
obtrusive. Nevertheless I could not escape being looked on as one who
might be given something that others wished to have. But as it soon
became apparent that I was wholly engaged in promoting the work of the
Senate and the success of the administration, rather than my own
interests, I was more cordially accepted.
In these two years I witnessed the gigantic task of demobilizing a war
government and restoring it to a peace-time basis. I also came in
contact with many of the important people of the United States and
foreign countries. All talent eventually arrives at Washington. Most of
the world figures were there at the Conference on Limitation of
Armaments. Other meetings brought people only a little less
distinguished. While I had little official connection with these events
the delegates called on me and I often met them on social occasions.
The efforts of President Harding to restore the country became familiar
to me. I saw the steady increase of the wise leadership of Mr. Hughes
and Mr. Mellon in the administration of the government and the passing
of some of the veteran figures of the Senate. Chief among these was
Senator Knox of Pennsylvania. He was a great power and had a control of
the conduct of the business of the Senate, which he exercised in behalf
of our party policies, that no one else approached during my service in
Washington.
In the winter of 1923 President Harding was far from well. At his
request I took his place in delivering the address at the Budget
Meeting. While he was out again in a few days he never recovered. As
Mrs. Coolidge and I were leaving for the long recess on the fourth of
March I bade him goodbye. We went to Virginia Hot Springs for a few days
and then returned to Massachusetts, where we remained while I filled
some speaking engagements, and in July went to Vermont. We left the
President and Mrs. Harding in Washington. I do not know what had
impaired his health. I do know that the weight of the Presidency is very
heavy. Later it was disclosed that he had discovered that some whom he
had trusted had betrayed him and he had been forced to call them to
account. It is known that this discovery was a very heavy grief to him,
perhaps more than he could bear. I never saw him again. In June he
started for Alaska and--eternity.
ON ENTERING AND LEAVING THE PRESIDENCY
_CHAPTER FIVE_
ON ENTERING AND LEAVING THE PRESIDENCY
It is a very old saying that you never can tell what you can do until
you try. The more I see of life the more I am convinced of the wisdom of
that observation.
Surprisingly few men are lacking in capacity, but they fail because they
are lacking in application. Either they never learn how to work, or,
having learned, they are too indolent to apply themselves with the
seriousness and the attention that is necessary to solve important
problems.
Any reward that is worth having only comes to the industrious. The
success which is made in any walk of life is measured almost exactly by
the amount of hard work that is put into it.
It has undoubtedly been the lot of every native boy of the United States
to be told that he will some day be President. Nearly every young man
who happens to be elected a member of his state legislature is pointed
to by his friends and his local newspaper as on the way to the White
House.
My own experience in this respect did not differ from that of others.
But I never took such suggestions seriously, as I was convinced in my
own mind that I was not qualified to fill the exalted office of
President.
I had not changed this opinion after the November elections of 1919,
when I was chosen Governor of Massachusetts for a second term by a
majority which had only been exceeded in 1896.
When I began to be seriously mentioned by some of my friends at that
time as the Republican candidate for President, it became apparent that
there were many others who shared the same opinion as to my fitness
which I had so long entertained.
But the coming national convention, acting in accordance with an
unchangeable determination, took my destiny into its own hands and
nominated me for Vice-President.
Had I been chosen for the first place, I could have accepted it only
with a great deal of trepidation, but when the events of August, 1923,
bestowed upon me the Presidential office, I felt at once that power had
been given me to administer it. This was not any feeling of
exclusiveness. While I felt qualified to serve, I was also well aware
that there were many others who were better qualified. It would be my
province to get the benefit of their opinions and advice. It is a great
advantage to a President, and a major source of safety to the country,
for him to know that he is not a great man. When a man begins to feel
that he is the only one who can lead in this republic, he is guilty of
treason to the spirit of our institutions.
After President Harding was seriously stricken, although I noticed that
some of the newspapers at once sent representatives to be near me at the
home of my father in Plymouth, Vermont, the official reports which I
received from his bedside soon became so reassuring that I believed all
danger past.
On the night of August 2, 1923, I was awakened by my father coming up
the stairs calling my name. I noticed that his voice trembled. As the
only times I had ever observed that before were when death had visited
our family, I knew that something of the gravest nature had occurred.
His emotion was partly due to the knowledge that a man whom he had met
and liked was gone, partly to the feeling that must possess all of our
citizens when the life of their President is taken from them.
But he must have been moved also by the thought of the many sacrifices
he had made to place me where I was, the twenty-five-mile drives in
storms and in zero weather over our mountain roads to carry me to the
academy and all the tenderness and care he had lavished upon me in the
thirty-eight years since the death of my mother in the hope that I might
sometime rise to a position of importance, which he now saw realized.
He had been the first to address me as President of the United States.
It was the culmination of the lifelong desire of a father for the
success of his son.
He placed in my hands an official report and told me that President
Harding had just passed away. My wife and I at once dressed.
Before leaving the room I knelt down and, with the same prayer with
which I have since approached the altar of the church, asked God to
bless the American people and give me power to serve them.
My first thought was to express my sympathy for those who had been
bereaved and after that was done to attempt to reassure the country with
the knowledge that I proposed no sweeping displacement of the men then
in office and that there were to be no violent changes in the
administration of affairs. As soon as I had dispatched a telegram to
Mrs. Harding, I therefore issued a short public statement declaratory of
that purpose.
Meantime, I had been examining the Constitution to determine what might
be necessary for qualifying by taking the oath of office. It is not
clear that any additional oath is required beyond what is taken by the
Vice-President when he is sworn into office. It is the same form as that
taken by the President.
Having found this form in the Constitution I had it set up on the
typewriter and the oath was administered by my father in his capacity as
a notary public, an office he had held for a great many years.
The oath was taken in what we always called the sitting room by the
light of the kerosene lamp, which was the most modern form of lighting
that had then reached the neighborhood. The Bible which had belonged to
my mother lay on the table at my hand. It was not officially used, as it
is not the practice in Vermont or Massachusetts to use a Bible in
connection with the administration of an oath.
Besides my father and myself, there were present my wife, Senator Dale,
who happened to be stopping a few miles away, my stenographer, and my
chauffeur.
The picture of this scene has been painted with historical accuracy by
an artist named Keller, who went to Plymouth for that purpose. Although
the likenesses are not good, everything in relation to the painting is
correct.
Where succession to the highest office in the land is by inheritance or
appointment, no doubt there have been kings who have participated in the
induction of their sons into their office, but in republics where the
succession comes by an election I do not know of any other case in
history where a father has administered to his son the qualifying oath
of office which made him the chief magistrate of a nation. It seemed a
simple and natural thing to do at the time, but I can now realize
something of the dramatic force of the event.
This room was one which was already filled with sacred memories for me.
In it my sister and my stepmother passed their last hours. It was
associated with my boyhood recollections of my own mother, who sat and
reclined there during her long invalid years, though she passed away in
an adjoining room where my father was to follow her within three years
from this eventful night.
When I started for Washington that morning I turned aside from the main
road to make a short devotional visit to the grave of my mother. It had
been a comfort to me during my boyhood when I was troubled to be near
her last resting place, even in the dead of night. Some way, that
morning, she seemed very near to me.
A telegram was sent to my pastor, Dr. Jason Noble Pierce, to meet me on
my arrival at Washington that evening, which he did.
I found the Cabinet mostly scattered. Some members had been with the
late President and some were in Europe. The Secretary of State, Mr.
Hughes, and myself, at once began the preparation of plans for the
funeral.
I issued the usual proclamation.
The Washington services were held in the rotunda of the Capitol,
followed by a simple service and interment at Marion, Ohio, which I
attended with the Cabinet and a large number of officers of the
government.
The nation was grief-stricken. Especially noticeable was the deep
sympathy every one felt for Mrs. Harding. Through all this distressing
period her bearing won universal commendation. Her attitude of sympathy
and affection towards Mrs. Coolidge and myself was an especial
consolation to us.
The first Sunday after reaching Washington we attended services, as we
were accustomed to do, at the First Congregational Church. Although I
had been rather constant in my attendance, I had never joined the
church.
While there had been religious services, there was no organized church
society near my boyhood home. Among other things, I had some fear as to
my ability to set that example which I always felt ought to denote the
life of a church member. I am inclined to think now that this was a
counsel of darkness.
This first service happened to come on communion day. Our pastor, Dr.
Pierce, occupied the pulpit, and, as he can under the practice of the
Congregational Church, and always does, because of his own very tolerant
attitude, he invited all those who believed in the Christian faith,
whether church members or not, to join in partaking of the communion.
For the first time I accepted this invitation, which I later learned he
had observed, and in a few days without any intimation to me that it was
to be done, considering this to be a sufficient public profession of my
faith, the church voted me into its membership.
This declaration of their belief in me was a great satisfaction.
Had I been approached in the usual way to join the church after I became
President, I should have feared that such action might appear to be a
pose, and should have hesitated to accept. From what might have been a
misguided conception I was thus saved by some influence which I had not
anticipated.
But if I had not voluntarily gone to church and partaken of communion,
this blessing would not have come to me.
Fate bestows its rewards on those who put themselves in the proper
attitude to receive them.
During my service in Washington I had seen a large amount of government
business. Peace had been made with the Central Powers, the tariff
revised, the budget system adopted, taxation reduced, large payments
made on the national debt, the Veterans’ Bureau organized, important
farm legislation passed, public expenditures greatly decreased, the
differences with Colombia of twenty years’ standing composed, and the
Washington Conference had reached an epoch-making agreement for the
practical limitation of naval armaments.
It would be difficult to find two years of peace-time history in all the
record of our republic that were marked with more important and
far-reaching accomplishments. From my position as President of the
Senate, and in my attendance upon the sessions of the Cabinet, I thus
came into possession of a very wide knowledge of the details of the
government.
In spite of the remarkable record which had already been made, much
remained to be done. While anything that relates to the functions of the
government is of enormous interest to me, its economic relations have
always had a peculiar fascination for me.
Though these are necessarily predicated on order and peace, yet our
people are so thoroughly law-abiding and our foreign relations are so
happy that the problem of government action which is to carry its
benefits into the homes of all the people becomes almost entirely
confined to the realm of economics.
My personal experience with business had been such as comes to a country
lawyer.
My official experience with government business had been of a wide
range. As Mayor, I had charge of the financial affairs of the City of
Northampton. As Lieutenant-Governor, I was Chairman of the Committee on
Finance of the Governor’s Council, which had to authorize every cent of
the expenditures of the Commonwealth before they could be made. As
Governor, I was chargeable with responsibility both for appropriations
and for expenditures.
My fundamental idea of both private and public business came first from
my father. He had the strong New England trait of great repugnance at
seeing anything wasted. He was a generous and charitable man, but he
regarded waste as a moral wrong.
Wealth comes from industry and from the hard experience of human toil.
To dissipate it in waste and extravagance is disloyalty to humanity.
This is by no means a doctrine of parsimony. Both men and nations should
live in accordance with their means and devote their substance not only
to productive industry, but to the creation of the various forms of
beauty and the pursuit of culture which give adornments to the art of
life.
When I became President it was perfectly apparent that the key by which
the way could be opened to national progress was constructive economy.
Only by the use of that policy could the high rates of taxation, which
were retarding our development and prosperity, be diminished, and the
enormous burden of our public debt be reduced.
Without impairing the efficient operation of all the functions of the
government, I have steadily and without ceasing pressed on in that
direction. This policy has encouraged enterprise, made possible the
highest rate of wages which has ever existed, returned large profits,
brought to the homes of the people the greatest economic benefits they
ever enjoyed, and given to the country as a whole an unexampled era of
prosperity. This well-being of my country has given me the chief
satisfaction of my administration.
One of my most pleasant memories will be the friendly relations which I
have always had with the representatives of the press in Washington. I
shall always remember that at the conclusion of the first regular
conference I held with them at the White House office they broke into
hearty applause.
I suppose that in answering their questions I had been fortunate enough
to tell them what they wanted to know in such a way that they could make
use of it.
While there have been newspapers which supported me, of course there
have been others which opposed me, but they have usually been fair. I
shall always consider it the highest tribute to my administration that
the opposition have based so little of their criticism on what I have
really said and done.
I have often said that there was no cause for feeling disturbed at being
misrepresented in the press. It would be only when they began to say
things detrimental to me which were true that I should feel alarm.
Perhaps one of the reasons I have been a target for so little abuse is
because I have tried to refrain from abusing other people.
The words of the President have an enormous weight and ought not to be
used indiscriminately.
It would be exceedingly easy to set the country all by the ears and
foment hatreds and jealousies, which, by destroying faith and
confidence, would help nobody and harm everybody. The end would be the
destruction of all progress.
While every one knows that evils exist, there is yet sufficient good in
the people to supply material for most of the comment that needs to be
made.
The only way I know to drive out evil from the country is by the
constructive method of filling it with good. The country is better off
tranquilly considering its blessings and merits, and earnestly striving
to secure more of them, than it would be in nursing hostile bitterness
about its deficiencies and faults.
Notwithstanding the broad general knowledge which I had of the
government, when I reached Washington I found it necessary to make an
extensive survey of the various Departments to acquaint myself with
details. This work had to be done intensively from the first of August
to the middle of November, in order to have the background and knowledge
which would enable me to discuss the state of the Union in my first
Message to the Congress.
Although meantime I was pressed with invitations to make speeches, I did
not accept any of them. The country was in mourning and I felt it more
appropriate to make my first declaration in my Message to the Congress.
Of course, I opened the Red Cross Convention in October, which was an
official function for me as its President.
I was especially fortunate in securing C. Bascom Slemp as my Secretary,
who had been a member of the House for many years and had a wide
acquaintance with public men and the workings of legislative machinery.
His advice was most helpful. I had already served with all the members
of the Cabinet, which perhaps was one reason I found them so
sympathetic.
Among its membership were men of great ability who have served their
country with a capacity which I do not believe was ever exceeded by any
former Cabinet officers.
A large amount was learned from George Harvey, Ambassador to England,
concerning the European situation. He not only had a special aptitude
for gathering and digesting information of that nature, but had been
located at London for two years, where most of it centered.
I called in a great many people from all the different walks of life
over the country. Among the first to come voluntarily were the veteran
President and the Secretary of the American Federation of Labor, Mr.
Gompers and Mr. Morrison. They brought a formal resolution expressive of
personal regard for me and assurance of loyal support for the
government.
Farm organizations and business men, publishers, educators, and many
others--all had to be consulted.
It has been my policy to seek information and advice wherever I could
find it. I have never relied on any particular person to be my
unofficial adviser. I have let the merits of each case and the soundness
of all advice speak for themselves. My counselors have been those
provided by the Constitution and the law.
Due largely to this careful preparation, my Message was well received.
No other public utterance of mine had been given greater approbation.
Most of the praise was sincere. But there were some quarters in the
opposing party where it was thought it would be good strategy to
encourage my party to nominate me, thinking that it would be easy to
accomplish my defeat. I do not know whether their judgment was wrong or
whether they overdid the operation, so that when they stopped speaking
in my praise they found they could not change the opinion of the people
which they had helped to create.
I have seen a great many attempts at political strategy in my day and
elaborate plans made to encompass the destruction of this or that public
man. I cannot now think of any that did not react with overwhelming
force upon the perpetrators, sometimes destroying them and sometimes
giving their proposed victim an opportunity to demonstrate his courage,
strength and soundness, which increased his standing with the people and
raised him to higher office.
There is only one form of political strategy in which I have any
confidence, and that is to try to do the right thing and sometimes be
able to succeed.
Many people at once began to speak about nominating me to lead my party
in the next campaign. I did not take any position in relation to their
efforts. Unless the nomination came to me in a natural way, rather than
as the result of an artificial campaign, I did not feel it would be of
any value.
The people ought to make their choice on a great question of that kind
without the influence that could be exerted by a President in office.
After the favorable reception which was given to my Message, I stated
at the Gridiron Dinner that I should be willing to be a candidate. The
convention nominated me the next June by a vote which was practically
unanimous.
With the exception of the occasion of my notification, I did not attend
any partisan meetings or make any purely political speeches during the
campaign. I spoke several times at the dedication of a monument, the
observance of the anniversary of an historic event, at a meeting of some
commercial body, or before some religious gathering. The campaign was
magnificently managed by William M. Butler and as it progressed the
final result became more and more apparent.
My own participation was delayed by the death of my son Calvin, which
occurred on the seventh of July. He was a boy of much promise,
proficient in his studies, with a scholarly mind, who had just turned
sixteen.
He had a remarkable insight into things.
The day I became President he had just started to work in a tobacco
field. When one of his fellow laborers said to him, “If my father was
President I would not work in a tobacco field,” Calvin replied, “If my
father were your father, you would.”
After he was gone some one sent us a letter he had written about the
same time to a young man who had congratulated him on being the first
boy in the land. To this he had replied that he had done nothing, and so
did not merit the title, which should go to “some boy who had
distinguished himself through his own actions.”
We do not know what might have happened to him under other
circumstances, but if I had not been President he would not have raised
a blister on his toe, which resulted in blood poisoning, playing lawn
tennis in the South Grounds.