by Robert Sobel
Coolidge at times took action that displayed his progressivism. Thomas Hisgen, a prominent member of a reform organization known as the Independent League, ran against Guild in 1907. Hisgen was a petroleum dealer who tangled with Standard Oil, and he petitioned the General Court to pass legislation outlawing the Standard Oil practice of charging lower prices to force competition from the field, and then raising them when the others had fled. Hisgen’s approach was Rooseveltian; not only did Coolidge support Hisgen, but he also sponsored the measure in the legislature. “You forbid a labor union to injure a man’s business,” he said, “but a giant corporation can do exactly the same thing.” Coolidge concluded that “havoc, spoil, and ruin follow these ‘aggregations of capital.’” Theodore Roosevelt could not have put it better.
But this is not the Coolidge who became president in 1923, and who is remembered today. Simply put, he mutated. From the vantage point of 1931, Coolidge reflected on how he had changed since that period:Serving on the Judiciary Committee, which I wanted because I felt it would help me in my profession, I became much interested in modifying the law so that an injunction could not be issued in a labor dispute to prevent one person seeking by argument to induce another to leave his employer. This bill failed. While I think it had merit, in later years I came to see that what was of real importance to wage earners was not how they might conduct a quarrel with their employers, but how the business of the country might be so organized as to insure steady employment at a fair rate of pay. If that were done there would be no occasion for a quarrel, and if it were not done a quarrel would do no one any good.
What caused these changes? Might it have been the maturing of a young reformer? Or could it have been his later experiences in the executive branch years? While a Massachusetts legislator and governor, Coolidge reflected that state’s political realities, and while president he echoed the conservative disposition of the nation during the 1920s. Was Coolidge a political chameleon or an opportunist? Perhaps it was the influence of Murray Crane, quiet, steady, patient, and reasonable. Coolidge remained a Crane man, and was proud to be one of the several young men the senator was placing in important state positions. But he also was able to think for himself, as he demonstrated in the legislative years.
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To the Statewide Scene
It was at this time that my intimate acquaintance began with Mr. Frank W. Stearns…. In the spring he suggested that he would like to support me for lieutenant governor. He was a merchant of high character and very much respected by all who knew him, but entirely without experience in politics. He came as an entirely fresh force in public affairs, unhampered by any of the animosities that usually attach to a veteran politician. It was a great compliment to me to attract the interest of such a man, and his influence later became of large value to the party in the commonwealth and nation.
The Autobiography of Calvin Coolidge
JUST AS IT WAS CUSTOMARY for the Massachusetts lieutenant governor to move up a notch to run for the governorship, so it was the tradition in those years for representatives to step down after two terms. Accordingly, Coolidge departed the legislature in 1908 and contemplated a full-time law practice, which would certainly grow due to his political experiences and the patronage of powerful men in the state. This was all the more necessary since his second son, Calvin Coolidge, Jr., was born on April 13. Coolidge was by no means wealthy. A month later he wrote to his father, the letter beginning with, “Your letter and check received. It is correct.” Apparently Coolidge still relied upon him for financial support.
As it happened, there was no hiatus in his electoral career. The mayor of Northampton, Democrat James O’Brien, intended to retire, and Coolidge agreed to run for the post.
The Democrats named Henry E. Bicknell, a prominent local merchant, who came out for Prohibition. By then one of Coolidge’s clients was a local brewery, and perhaps because of this he was “wet.” Thus, the normally anti–Prohibition but Democratic Irish and French residents of Northampton were faced with a conundrum, which Coolidge exploited. As he had in his two legislative runs, Coolidge wooed the Democrats assiduously, knocking on doors, shaking hands, and saying, “I want your vote. I need it. I shall appreciate it.” He avoided personalities, another of his practices. Reporting on his method, the Gazette wrote, “There is one thing we like about candidate Coolidge; he does not say anything about the other candidate. At the Democratic rallies they keep telling what a poor man Coolidge is, how little he ever did that was good and how much he did that was bad.” Commenting on Democratic criticisms in a speech before a largely Irish audience, Coolidge said, “I never could satisfy the other party. These seemed like the British at the battle of Bennington who complained that the Green Mountain boys took aim in battle. It is of great consequence to me that my fellow citizens may say of me, ‘He has conducted a clean, honorable campaign and borne himself like a man.’”
According to one often repeated story, some Democrats were offering odds of two to one that Bicknell would capture the Irish Ward Seven. Coolidge gave $100 to a friend and asked him to bet half of it on him, and with the other half, buy beer and cigars for the residents. As he predicted, the Seventh went for him, and thus turned the $50 into $150, of which Coolidge gave $50 to his friend for his help. But as it really happened, the ward went for Bicknell by a margin of 159 to 151.
Coolidge won the election by a vote of 1,597 to 1,409. The following day, according to one of those many stories that surfaced later, he met a Democratic friend, who congratulated him on his victory. “I see you’re elected mayor—but I didn’t vote for you.” To which Coolidge was supposed to have replied, “Well, somebody did.” Soon after he sent this message to Bicknell: My dear Harry:
My most serious regret at the election is that you cannot share the entire pleasure of the result with me. I value your friendship and good opinion more than any office and I trust I have so conducted the campaign that our past close intimacy and good fellowship may be more secure than ever.
Respectfully,
Calvin Coolidge
On the day after the election, the Gazette praised Coolidge. “Congratulations, cool Calvin!” This was probably the first time “cool” was attached to “Calvin” in print. It would soon become commonplace.
That December, Coolidge wrote to his father, noting the arrival of another check. “We are very thankful for it. I could not have been mayor without your help.” He noted the salary was $800, but there was some talk of raising it to $1,200. The actual raise was to $1,000, but Coolidge refused to accept the extra $200 on the principle that he should receive the salary existing on Election Day.
The mayoralty of Northampton was a small office, but it provided Coolidge with his first executive experience, and his political thinking continued to evolve. In his brief inaugural address, Coolidge hinted that he intended to be an activist mayor: “Northampton has reached the point where citizens are demanding more than material welfare.” He proposed the creation of a Public Improvement Commission to advise on necessary projects. “It would be their province to formulate a very broad and general plan of improvement, the details of which could be cojointly worked out from year to year by our various departments—each year as it can be afforded, much or little, but always working toward the consummation of a definite plan.”
This was one of the first instances of municipal planning in Massachusetts. The commission was given Coolidge’s agenda, which included paving streets and sidewalks, “each section of work to be part of a scheme for dealing with all our streets as a unit, filling in the parts in the light of the whole plan. In short, I recommend that the care of our streets and sidewalks be treated as a manufacturing proposition rather than a parceling out of municipal utilities.”
Modest enough by today’s standards, the plan was quite forward-looking for the time. The first concrete sidewalk had been laid in Bellefontaine, Ohio, in 1891, and such improvements had barely started at the turn of the century. In 1910 a project o
f this sort was quite “up-to-date” in Northampton. Similarly, the concepts of comprehensive programs for public improvements were just then appearing in municipal governments, and here too, Coolidge was in the vanguard, though happenings in a small place like Northampton were not noticed in the larger world. The wonder of it all was that Coolidge not only got his program approved and started in that first year, but he also did so without resort to a bond issue or new taxes. During his first term, Coolidge increased teachers’ salaries, lowered the tax rate from $17 to $16.50, and affected a modest decrease in the city’s debt.
After he became president of the United States, many Northamp-tonites were asked about his performance as mayor. Unsurprisingly, most replies were quite positive. “A man of the people,” said one Smith College professor. Elihu Grant, another Smith professor who lived across the street from Coolidge, was positively effusive:His capacity for hard and continuous work, his unwillingness to commit himself to any position which he had not thought out, his economies in the administration of the city’s business, and his exceptional success in gaining the suffrage of his fellow-citizens of both parties without any of the usual public manifestations of the vote-getter, already marked him off from other political figures. Others had their ups and downs in the political game. He was always going up. People had confidence in him and he never went backward from any position which he held in the respect of his fellow-townsfolk. He always seemed to have his object clearly in mind and went straight for it. His method was one of industry and persistence. If a nomination was to be secured, he often made his major efforts before the possible opposition had begun. By the time of the election, he seemed to have the whole matter discounted in his own mind so that he was fully ready to attend to business as soon as he was invited to take charge.
His performance attracted some attention outside of Northampton, but, of even more importance, was monitored by Murray Crane. According to one story told much later, when a friend mentioned he was going to visit his daughter at Smith College, Crane told him, “Find out all you can about a young man named Coolidge. You’ll save trouble in looking him up later. There is one of the coming men of this country.”
A glimpse of Coolidge’s political thoughts in this period comes through in a letter to his father. In June 1910 John Coolidge was nominated for the Vermont senate, a seat he won that September. Congratulating his father, Coolidge offered advice based on his experiences. “You need not hesitate to give other members your views on any subject that arises. It is much more important to kill bad bills than to pass good ones.” That thought would recur in different forms throughout his career. Coolidge deeply believed that there were enough laws on the books, and that new ones should be considered cautiously; perhaps the desired goal could be achieved by enforcing some statute already on the books. One of his biographers, William Allen White, noted, “Coolidge, in those days and always, distrusted reformers.” So he did, but Coolidge did not distrust reform itself, but rather the sources from which ideas for change emanated. He instinctively withdrew from men he labeled “world beaters” and “wonder boys”—those convinced that there were cures for every political ailment and that they could prescribe and administer any problem.
Coolidge distrusted legislators and executives who had agendas rather than philosophies. As legislator and executive, Coolidge often initiated and supported specific reforms that he might have rejected had the idea emanated from the likes of Senator Robert La Follette, Theodore Roosevelt, or later on, Herbert Hoover. And always it would be piecemeal reform. In this period he supported not only the wages and hours legislation, but also a minimum wage for women, pensions for widows whose husbands died while employed, women’s suffrage, workmen’s compensation for crippling injuries while on the job, legalized picketing, and the popular election of U.S. senators—all of which were at the time considered “progressive” measures.
Coolidge won reelection in 1910, again defeating Harry Bicknell, this time by a margin of 256 votes. He knew this would be his last term, for the tradition against third terms extended to mayoralties. There was talk of an appointment as state secretary of state, but this was apparently nothing but a rumor. Besides, he had his eye on the next step on the ladder: the state senate.
Republican Allen Treadway, the current senator for Northampton, was considering stepping down, and wished to see his seat taken by Coolidge, a fellow Amherst man. When they spoke of the matter, Treadway expressed his wishes, to which Coolidge replied that while he hoped to enter the senate someday, he wasn’t in that much of a hurry. Treadway opted to make a run for Congress; while he lost that race, he won election two years later. In any event, in 1911 the way was open for Coolidge to attempt to replace him in Boston. He obtained the nomination, and in an easy race against Alfred Preece, who earlier had been defeated for the House seat, Coolidge won by a vote of 5,541 to 4,061.
The Massachusetts senate had only forty members, and the senators were less anonymous than the House members. The chamber, in which the members sat around a circular table, was even smaller than the House. Coolidge immediately became chairman of both the Committee on Legal Affairs and the Committee on Agriculture, which occupied a good deal of his time.
Of greater immediate importance than either was his role in resolving a strike that began on New Year’s Day, 1912, at the American Woolen Company’s facility at Lawrence, where laborers under the age of eighteen worked fifty-six hours a week and were paid for fifty-four hours. The factory managers refused to meet with the workers to discuss the situation, and hadn’t even notified them in advance of this change in payment. Not only did this seem unfair, but it also violated a state law mandating a maximum of fifty-four hours for eighteen-year-olds.
As a result, fourteen thousand workers walked out. Making matters more complicated, the strike spread to other facilities, and the radical International Workers of the World (IWW)—the “Wobblies”—participated in the walkouts. The IWW was known to advocate violence, and there were justifiable fears of riots in Lawrence.
It was a touchy matter, and Coolidge was selected as chairman of a General Court committee established to attempt conciliation between the parties. It was not a “plum” assignment—senior legislators attempted to avoid it. A decision either way was bound to create political enemies. In writing of his assignment to his stepmother, Coolidge said:I am chairman of the committee to see if any conciliation can be brought about at Lawrence. The leaders there are socialists and anarchists, and they do not want anybody to work for wages. The trouble is not about the amount of wages; it is a small attempt to destroy all authority whether of any church or government.
These private views notwithstanding, Coolidge and his committee heard all the evidence. In the end, the committee recommended a wage increase of up to 25 percent, and time and a quarter pay for overtime, which the company accepted. The strike ended peacefully, and Coolidge received favorable press coverage. He was still a freshman senator, and didn’t seem much more than able.
In 1912 Republican politicians throughout the country faced a major problem—on February 21, Theodore Roosevelt announced his intention to challenge William Howard Taft for the GOP nomination. If defeated, there was a good chance TR would run as a third party candidate. Earlier on, Senator Robert La Follette had thrown down the gauntlet to Taft and obtained the Independent League’s support. Now most members deserted to Roosevelt.
These developments threw the Massachusetts Republicans into disarray, and created wounds that would take more than a generation to heal. Roosevelt had the support of the progressive element, and some conservatives, believing he was the only candidate who might win, were leaning toward him as well. But then, as Roosevelt’s talk turned to what at the time seemed radical programs, the moderates and conservatives returned to Taft. In any event, there was bound to be a party split.
Massachusetts was one of twelve states that held primary elections in 1912. Taft defeated Roosevelt there by a margin of 87,000 to 83,000, splitting
the GOP down the middle. When Taft won the nomination that June, Roosevelt walked out to form the Progressive Party, whose nomination he accepted in August. The Democrats, who had gone through a similar partition in 1896, knew that this gave them a good chance to recapture the White House for the first time since Grover Cleveland had been elected to a second term in 1892, and that divisions on the local level might result in a Democratic House of Representatives and sweeps in some state houses and legislatures.
At the time, Eugene Foss was completing his second term as Massachusetts governor, and he intended to run for a third. A Republican who had switched to the Democratic Party, Foss was the sort of politician who appealed to Roosevelt followers. As his opponent, the Republicans nominated Joseph Walker. The Progressives selected Charles Bird, who once had been a Democrat, voted for Taft in 1908, and now was a Roosevelt supporter.
To complicate matters further, Crane announced his intention to retire from the U.S. Senate, setting off a struggle within the Republican ranks that caused more heat than even the presidential race, since by then it was assumed that Democratic presidential nominee Woodrow Wilson would gain the White House. In the end, the Republican leaders backed John Weeks for the nomination. Weeks was a wealthy banker and a Crane man, a dull speaker, a staunch opponent of women’s franchise, a supporter of Prohibition, and a critic of organized labor, none of which was popular in the eastern part of the state. Sensing these weaknesses, the charismatic Samuel McCall, who was more liberal on these issues, challenged Weeks. McCall came close to winning the nomination, but after a bitter struggle Weeks prevailed.
