When he went the power and the glory of the Presidency went with him.
The ways of Providence are often beyond our understanding. It seemed to
me that the world had need of the work that it was probable he could do.
I do not know why such a price was exacted for occupying the White
House.
[Illustration: GRACE GOODHUE
_Before her marriage to Calvin Coolidge_]
Sustained by the great outpouring of sympathy from all over the nation,
my wife and I bowed to the Supreme Will and with such courage as we had
went on in the discharge of our duties.
In less than two years my father followed him.
At his advanced age he had overtaxed his strength receiving the
thousands of visitors who went to my old home at Plymouth. It was all a
great satisfaction to him and he would not have had it otherwise.
When I was there and visitors were kept from the house for a short
period, he would be really distressed in the thought that they could not
see all they wished and he would go out where they were himself and
mingle among them.
I knew for some weeks that he was passing his last days. I sent to bring
him to Washington, but he clung to his old home.
It was a sore trial not to be able to be with him, but I had to leave
him where he most wished to be. When his doctors advised me that he
could survive only a short time I started to visit him, but he sank to
rest while I was on my way.
For my personal contact with him during his last months I had to resort
to the poor substitute of the telephone. When I reached home he was
gone.
It costs a great deal to be President.
SOME OF THE DUTIES OF
THE PRESIDENT
_CHAPTER SIX_
SOME OF THE DUTIES OF THE PRESIDENT
As I recall the mounting events of the years I spent in Washington, I
appreciate how impossible it is to convey an adequate realization of the
office of President. A few short paragraphs in the Constitution of the
United States describe all his fundamental duties. Various laws passed
over a period of nearly a century and a half have supplemented his
authority. All of his actions can be analyzed. All of his goings and
comings can be recited. The details of his daily life can be made known.
The effect of his policies on his own country and on the world at large
can be estimated. His methods of work, his associates, his place of
abode, can all be described. But the relationship created by all these
and more, which constitutes the magnitude of the office, does not yield
to definition. Like the glory of a morning sunrise, it can only be
experienced--it can not be told.
In the discharge of the duties of the office there is one rule of action
more important than all others. It consists in never doing anything that
some one else can do for you. Like many other good rules, it is proven
by its exceptions. But it indicates a course that should be very
strictly followed in order to prevent being so entirely devoted to
trifling details that there will be little opportunity to give the
necessary consideration to policies of larger importance.
Like some other rules, this one has an important corollary which must be
carefully observed in order to secure success. It is not sufficient to
entrust details to some one else. They must be entrusted to some one who
is competent. The Presidency is primarily an executive office. It is
placed at the apex of our system of government. It is a place of last
resort to which all questions are brought that others have not been able
to answer. The ideal way for it to function is to assign to the various
positions men of sufficient ability so that they can solve all the
problems that arise under their jurisdiction. If there is a troublesome
situation in Nicaragua, a General McCoy can manage it. If we have
differences with Mexico, a Morrow can compose them. If there is unrest
in the Philippines, a Stimson can quiet them. About a dozen able,
courageous, reliable and experienced men in the House and the Senate can
reduce the problem of legislation almost to a vanishing point.
While it is wise for the President to get all the competent advice
possible, final judgments are necessarily his own. No one can share with
him the responsibility for them. No one can make his decisions for him.
He stands at the center of things where no one else can stand. If others
make mistakes, they can be relieved, and oftentimes a remedy can be
provided. But he can not retire. His decisions are final and usually
irreparable. This constitutes the appalling burden of his office. Not
only the welfare of 120,000,000 of his countrymen, but oftentimes the
peaceful relations of the world are entrusted to his keeping. At the
turn of his hand the guns of an enormous fleet would go into action
anywhere in the world, carrying the iron might of death and destruction.
His appointment confers the power to administer justice, inflict
criminal penalties, declare acts of state legislatures and of the
Congress void, and sit in judgment over the very life of the nation.
Practically all the civil and military authorities of the government,
except the Congress and the courts, hold their office at his discretion.
He appoints, and he can remove. The billions of dollars of government
revenue are collected and expended under his direction. The Congress
makes the laws, but it is the President who causes them to be executed.
A power so vast in its implications has never been conferred upon any
ruling sovereign.
Yet the President exercises his authority in accordance with the
Constitution and the law. He is truly the agent of the people,
performing such functions as they have entrusted to him. The
Constitution specifically vests him with the executive power. Some
Presidents have seemed to interpret that as an authorization to take any
action which the Constitution, or perhaps the law, does not specifically
prohibit. Others have considered that their powers extended only to such
acts as were specifically authorized by the Constitution and the
statutes. This has always seemed to me to be a hypothetical question,
which it would be idle to attempt to determine in advance. It would
appear to be the better practice to wait to decide each question on its
merits as it arises. Jefferson is said to have entertained the opinion
that there was no constitutional warrant for enlarging the territory of
the United States, but when the actual facts confronted him he did not
hesitate to negotiate the Louisiana Purchase. For all ordinary occasions
the specific powers assigned to the President will be found sufficient
to provide for the welfare of the country. That is all he needs.
All situations that arise are likely to be simplified, and many of them
completely solved, by an application of the Constitution and the law. If
what they require to be done, is done, there is no opportunity for
criticism, and it would be seldom that anything better could be devised.
A Commission once came to me with a proposal for adopting rules to
regulate the conduct of its members. As they were evenly divided, each
side wished me to decide against the other. They did this because, while
it is always the nature of a Commissioner to claim that he is entirely
independent of the President, he would usually welcome Presidential
interference with any other Commissioner who does not agree with him.
In this case it occurred to me that the Department of Justice should
ascertain what the statute setting up this Commission required under the
circumstances. A reference to the law disclosed that the Congress had
specified the qualifications of the members of the Commission and that
they could not by rule either enlarge or diminish the power of their
individual members. So their problem was solved like many others by
simply finding out what the law required.
Every day of the Presidential life is crowded with activities. When
people not accustomed to Washington came to the office, or when I met
them on some special occasion, they often remarked that it seemed to be
my busy day, to which my stock reply came to be that all days were busy
and there was little difference among them. It was my custom to be out
of bed about six-thirty, except in the darkest mornings of winter. One
of the doormen at the White House was an excellent barber, but I always
preferred to shave myself with old-fashioned razors, which I knew how to
keep in good condition. It was my intention to take a short walk before
breakfast, which Mrs. Coolidge and I ate together in our rooms. For me
there was fruit and about one-half cup of coffee, with a home-made
cereal made from boiling together two parts of unground wheat with one
part of rye. To this was added a roll and a strip of bacon, which went
mostly to our dogs.
Soon after eight found me dictating in the White House library in
preparation for some public utterance. This would go on for more than an
hour, after which I began to receive callers at the office. Most of
these came by appointment, but in addition to the average of six to
eight who were listed there would be as many more from my Cabinet and
the Congress, to whom I was always accessible. Each one came to me with
a different problem requiring my decision, which was usually made at
once. About twelve-fifteen those began to be brought in who were to be
somewhat formally presented. At twelve-thirty the doors were opened, and
a long line passed by who wished merely to shake hands with the
President. On one occasion I shook hands with nineteen hundred in
thirty-four minutes, which is probably my record. Instead of a burden,
it was a pleasure and a relief to meet people in that way and listen to
their greeting, which was often a benediction. It was at this same hour
that the numerous groups assembled in the South Grounds, where I joined
them for the photographs used for news purposes and permanent mementoes
of their White House visit.
Lunch came at one o’clock, at which we usually had guests. It made an
opportunity for giving our friends a little more attention than could be
extended through a mere handshake. About an hour was devoted to rest
before returning to the office, where the afternoon was reserved for
attention to the immense number of documents which pass over the desk of
the President. These were all cleaned up each day. Before dinner another
walk was in order, followed by exercises on some of the vibrating
machines kept in my room. We gathered at the dinner table at seven
o’clock and within three-quarters of an hour work would be resumed with
my stenographer to continue until about ten o’clock.
The White House offices are under the direction of the Secretary to the
President. They are the center of activities which are world-wide.
Reports come in daily from heads of departments, from distant
possessions, and from foreign diplomats and consular agents scattered
all over the earth. A mass of correspondence, from the Congress, the
officials of the states, and the general public, is constantly being
received. All of this often reaches two thousand pieces in a day. Very
much of it is sent at once to the Department to which it refers, from
which an answer is sent direct to the writer. Other parts are sent to
different members of the office staff; and some is laid before the
President. While I signed many letters, I did not dictate many. After
indicating the nature of the reply, it was usually put into form by some
of the secretaries. A great many photographs were sent in to be
inscribed, and a constant stream of autographs went to all who wrote for
them.
At ten-thirty on Tuesdays and Fridays the Cabinet meetings were held.
These were always very informal. Each member was asked if he had any
problem he wished to lay before the President. When I first attended
with President Harding at the beginning of a new administration these
were rather numerous. Later, they decreased, as each member felt better
able to solve his own problems. After entire freedom of discussion, but
always without a vote of any kind, I was accustomed to announce what the
decision should be. There never ought to be and never were marked
differences of opinion in my Cabinet. As their duties were not to advise
each other, but to advise the President, they could not disagree among
themselves. I rarely failed to accept their recommendations. Sometimes
they wished for larger appropriations than the state of the Treasury
warranted, but they all cooperated most sincerely in the policy of
economy and were content with such funds as I could assign to them.
The Secretary of State is the agency through which the President
exercises his constitutional authority to deal with foreign relations.
As this subject is a matter of constant interchange, he makes no annual
report upon it. Other Cabinet officers make annual reports to the
President on the whole conduct of their departments, which he transmits
to the Congress. All the intercourse with foreign governments is carried
on through the Secretary of State, and a national of a foreign country
can not be received by the President unless the accredited diplomatic
representative of his government has made an appointment for him through
the State Department.
All foreign approaches to the President are through this Department.
When an Ambassador or Minister is to present his credentials, the
Undersecretary of State brings him to the White House and escorts him to
the Green Room. After the President has taken his position standing in
the Blue Room accompanied by his aides, the diplomat is then brought
before him. He presents his letters with a short formal statement, to
which the President responds in kind. When the mutual expressions of
friendly interest and good will have been exchanged, the accompanying
staff of the diplomat is brought in for presentation, after which he
retires. Except when foreign officials are presented for an audience in
this way, the etiquette of the White House requires that those who are
present should remain until the President and the Mistress of the White
House retire from the room.
A competent man is assigned from the State Department to have the
management of the White House official social function. He has under
him a considerable staff located in one of the basement rooms, known as
the Social Bureau. They keep a careful list of all those who leave cards
and of the officials who should be invited to receptions, which is
constantly revised to meet changing conditions. While the President has
supervision over all these functions, the most effective way to deal
with them is to provide a capable Mistress of the White House. I have
often been complimented on the choice which I made nearly twenty-five
years ago. These functions were so much in the hands of Mrs. Coolidge
that oftentimes I did not know what guests were to be present until I
met them in the Blue Room just before going in to dinner.
These social functions are almost as much a part of the life of official
Washington as a session of the Congress or a term of the Supreme Court.
The season opens with the Cabinet dinner. Following this come the
Diplomatic reception, the Diplomatic dinner, then the Judicial
reception, the Supreme Court dinner, then the Congressional reception
and the Speaker’s dinner, with the last reception of the year tendered
to the Army and Navy. About fifty guests assemble at the dinners, except
that given to the diplomats, when the presence of the Ambassadors or
Ministers, with their wives, of all countries represented in Washington
brings the number up to about ninety. The Marine Band is in attendance
on all these occasions. Following the dinners a short musical recital by
famous artists is given in the East Room, to which many additional
guests are invited.
A reception is a particularly colorful event. About thirty-five hundred
invitations are issued. When the guests are assembled the President and
his wife, preceded by his aides and followed by the Cabinet and his
Secretary and their wives, go down the main staircase, pausing for a
moment to receive the military salute of the band, and then pass to the
Blue Room where the receptions are always held. When the foreign
diplomats are present in their official dress, the scene is very
brilliant. After all the presentations have been made, the President and
his retinue return to the second floor. Immediately after this there is
dancing in the East Room to furnish entertainment while the long line
of cars comes up to take the guests home.
Whenever the prominent officials of foreign governments visit
Washington, it is customary to receive them at a luncheon or dinner at
the White House. When the Prince of Wales was here in 1924 we were in
mourning, due to the loss of our son, so that he lunched with us
informally without any other invited guests. When the Queen of Rumania
came to Washington she was entertained at dinner. There have also been
Princes of the reigning house of Japan and of Sweden, the Premier of
France, the Governor General of Canada, the Presidents of the Irish Free
State, of Cuba, and of Mexico, who have been received and entertained in
some manner. Whenever an official gathering of foreigners, like the
Panama Conference, convenes in Washington, the President and the
Mistress of the White House tender them a reception and a dinner.
Besides these formal social gatherings, there were various afternoon
teas and musicales, which I sometimes neglected, and usually one or two
garden parties held in the South Grounds, one of which was for the
disabled veterans who were patients in Washington hospitals. These
parties were accompanied with band music and light refreshments, which
always seemed to be appreciated by the veterans.
My personal social functions consisted of the White House breakfasts,
which were attended by fifteen to twenty-five members of the House and
Senate and others, who gathered around my table at eight-thirty o’clock
in the morning to partake of a meal which ended with wheat cakes and
Vermont maple syrup. During the last session of the Congress I invited
all the members of the Senate, all the chairmen and ranking Democratic
members of the committees of the House, and finally had breakfast with
the officers of both houses of the Congress. Although we did not
undertake to discuss matters of public business at these breakfasts,
they were productive of a spirit of good fellowship which was no doubt a
helpful influence to the transaction of public business.
In addition to these White House events, the President and his wife go
out to twelve official dinners. They begin with the Vice-President, go
on among the ten members of the Cabinet, and close with the Speaker of
the House. Aside from these, it is not customary for the President to
accept the hospitality of any individuals. This is not from any desire
on his part to be exclusive, but rather arises from an application of
the principle of equality. The number of days in his term of office is
limited. If he gave up all the time when he is not otherwise necessarily
engaged, it is doubtful if he could find fifty evenings in a year when
he could accept invitations. At once he would be confronted with the
necessity of deciding which to accept and which to reject. If he served
eight years, he could only touch the fringe of official Washington, even
if he chose to disregard all the balance of the country. The only escape
from an otherwise impossible situation is to observe the rule of
refusing all social invitations.
The President stands at the head of all official and social rank in the
nation. As he is Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, all their
officers are his subordinates. As he is the head of the government, he
outranks all other public officials. As the first citizen, he is placed
at the top of the social scale. Wherever he goes, whenever he appears,
he must be assigned the place of honor. It follows from this that he can
not consistently attend a dinner or any other function given by some one
else in honor of any other person. He can have ceremonies of his own at
the White House, or outside, in which he recognizes the merit of others
and bestows upon them appropriate honors. But his participation in any
other occasion of such a nature is confined to sending an appropriate
message.
It would make great confusion in all White House relations unless the
rules of procedure were observed. If this were not done, the most
ambitious and intruding would seize the place of honor, or it would be
bestowed by favor. In both cases all official position would be ignored.
In its working out, therefore, the adoption of rules which take no
account of persons, but simply apply to places, is the only method which
is in harmony with our spirit of equality. In its application it gives
us more completely a government of laws and not of men.
As he is head of the government, charged with making appointments, and
clothed with the executive power, the President has a certain
responsibility for the conduct of all departments, commissions and
independent bureaus. While I was willing to advise with any of these
officers and give them any assistance in my power, I always felt they
should make their own decisions and rarely volunteered any advice. Many
applications are made requesting the President to seek to influence
these bodies, and such applications were usually transmitted to them for
their information without comment. Wherever they exercise judicial
functions, I always felt that some impropriety might attach to any
suggestions from me. The parties before them are entitled to a fair
trial on the merits of their case and to have judgment rendered by those
to whom both sides have presented their evidence. If some one on the
outside undertook to interfere, even if grave injustice was not done,
the integrity of a commission which comes from a knowledge that it can
be relied on to exercise its own independent judgment would be very much
impaired.
I never hesitated to ask commissions to speed up their work and get
their business done, but if they were not doing it correctly my remedy
would be to supplant them with those who I thought would do better. At
one time the Shipping Board adopted a resolution declaring their
independence of the President and claiming they were responsible solely
to the Congress. As I always considered they had a rather impossible
task, I doubted whether any one could be very successful in its
performance. If they wished to try to relieve me of its responsibility,
I had no personal objection and would probably be saved from
considerable criticism. But they found they could not carry on their
work without the support of the President, so that some of them resigned
and the remainder reestablished their contact with the White House,
which was always open to them.
The practice which I followed in my relations with commissions and in
the recognition of rank has been long established. President Jefferson
seems to have entertained the opinion that even the Supreme Court should
be influenced by his wishes and that failing in this a recalcitrant
judge should be impeached by a complaisant Congress. This brought him
into a sharp conflict with John Marshall, who resisted any encroachment
upon the independence of the Court. In this controversy the position of
Marshall has been vindicated. It is also said that at some of his
official dinners President Jefferson left all his guests to the
confusion of taking whatever seat they could find at his table. But this
method did not survive the test of history. In spite of all his
greatness, any one who had as many ideas as Jefferson was bound to find
that some of them would not work. But this does not detract from the
wisdom of his faith in the people and his constant insistence that they
be left to manage their own affairs. His opposition to bureaucracy will
bear careful analysis, and the country could stand a great deal more of
its application. The trouble with us is that we talk about Jefferson but
do not follow him. In his theory that the people should manage their
government, and not be managed by it, he was everlastingly right.