On the Road Again, August 4, 1926

June 21, 2014June 22, 2014 / gouverneurmorris / Leave a comment

En route back to the Homestead at Plymouth, the President and Mrs. Coolidge are reconnecting with family roots, leaving most of the artificial world of Washington behind and keeping closer to realities, where the country lives, works, worships and creates. Here rested the body of his father, recently buried in March, his youngest son, who passed two years before, his stepmother, sister and mother, surrounded by the generations who preceded them of the Coolidge family. Here was a wholesome relief from the political mentality of the District to the comfort of hearth, surrounded by the family he loved, the hills he cherished and the tasks awaiting solutions on the farm.

As much they desired to the contrary, they ceased to be “ordinary” citizens and could no longer “use the regular trains which are open to the public.” Looking back on the years, he once wrote, “While the facilities of a private car have always been offered, I think they have only been used once, when one was needed for the better comfort of Mrs. Coolidge during her illness. Although I have not been given to much travel during my term of office, it has been sufficient, so that I am convinced the government should own a private car for the use of the President when he leaves Washington. The pressure on him is so great, the responsibilities are so heavy, that it is a wise policy in order to secure his best services to provide him with such ample facilities that he will be relieved as far as possible from all physical inconveniences. It is not generally understood how much detail is involved in any journey of the President” (Autobiography pp.217-8). These intricate arrangements meant expense to the rest of the country, costs of going long distances with the Presidential retinue which made it prohibitive in Calvin’s high sense of propriety and moral obligation to the people for his office. It was not simply okay that gratuitous travel was chargeable to the public Treasury, even when prosperous times could have handled the burden. It was enough to escape from the National Capital every summer, to get away to Plymouth as often as possible and to keep other travel limited to specific destinations instead of the flagrant spending of continual cross-country tours or incessant vacations to luxurious places. It is telling that the Coolidges, who wanted to travel more, would not take that coast-to-coast trip until in retirement as private citizens again.

However, there is something more compelling than the singular dimension of a President morally committed to economy at its most practical, personal and ideal. What prompts him to support a government-owned private car for Presidential use is not to enhance official dignity, endorse government ownership in general nor is it to live grander than the hoi polloi, but it is to “secure his best services.” We have, after all, hired him to accomplish a task of leadership, we have delegated power for a limited time with specific ends, contractually obligating ourselves and the President to obtain the best within him while we exercise the best within us as citizens. It is for this reason he is compensated with such means of private travel, not to abuse it but in pouring it back into better and better public service, he is upholding the terms of that sacred agreement. By obtaining “the best of his ability” he upholds his oath to God and man and justifies the public faith entrusted to his care.

Leaving the social dramas and political flurries of Washington for the comfort of being at home surrounded by America’s people and countryside, is it any wonder that they are smiling?

“That’s a good fish worm”

June 7, 2014June 9, 2014 / gouverneurmorris / 2 Comments

Coolidge breaking ground for the Hamline Methodist Episcopal Church in Philadelphia, 1924.

On one particular occasion, Calvin Coolidge was invited to dedicate the cornerstone of a local building. Presented with the ceremonial spade by the emcee, the President dutifully performed the honors and prepared to leave. Gently reminded that it was customary to say a few words, he paused to look at the clod of dirt he had just overturned as if something very profound was on his mind for this occasion. Gazing intently at the ground for a moment, he noticed a plump nightcrawler emerging from the freshly disturbed earth. Without a hint of a smile, he uttered the droll phrase above and went on his way. If there was any laughter by those who got the joke, he never waited to be appreciated for the punchline. Cal was already on to the next task. Such was the dry and homespun humor of our thirtieth president.

President and Mrs. Coolidge at the laying of the cornerstone for the George Washington Masonic National Memorial, November 1923.

On the Ideals of Art

May 14, 2014May 20, 2014 / gouverneurmorris / Leave a comment

In observance of our 400th post here, together with the anniversary this week of Calvin Coolidge’s 1928 Address before the 400 delegates gathered together from the American Federation of Arts and the American Association of Museums, we will offer some especially cogent highlights from the speech. These excerpts illustrate what Coolidge thought of art and that what gave it value and meaning resides in its revelation of reality, truth, and beauty. Here are some of my favorite gems from a little known, oft overlooked but insightful message from President Calvin Coolidge:

“While we have been devoted to the development of our material resources, as a nation ought to be which heeds the admonition to be diligent at business, we have not been neglectful of the higher things of life. In fact, I believe it can be demonstrated that the intellectual and moral awakening which characterized our people in their early experiences was the fore-runner and foundation of the remarkable era of development in which we now live. But in the midst of all the swift-moving events, we have an increasing need for inspiration. Men and women become conscious that they must seek for satisfaction in something more than worldly success. They are moved with a desire to rise above themselves. It is but natural, therefore, that we should turn to the field of art…

“…[I]n a wider sense, the arts include all those manifestations of beauty created by man which broaden and enrich life. It is an attempt to transfer to others the highest and best thoughts which the race has experienced. The self-expression which it makes possible rises into the realm of the divine.” Not everything is art or artistic, Coolidge knew, and though beauty may be in the eye of the beholder it is real art to conceive and design something that broadens and enriches life, that serves as a vessel to bequeath the “highest and best thoughts” mankind has known. That inspiring standard is simply missing from much of what is now sponsored as great, modern art.

A night snapshot of "White City" with its famous tower, a landmark visible up to fifteen miles away. In his mention of this turn-of-the-century amusement park, Coolidge lauds one very specific quality of that site: the inspiration it fostered in those "who had the good fortune to visit it" of a desire to beautify surroundings nation-wide. Coolidge was keenly aware that many had never been there and yet, as with so many things, Coolidge appealed to ideals, to what could and should be, not merely settling for what is.

A night snapshot of “White City” with its famous tower. The tower was a landmark visible up to fifteen miles away. In his mention of this turn-of-the-century amusement park, Coolidge lauds one very specific quality of that site: the inspiration it fostered in those “who had the good fortune to visit it” of a desire to beautify surroundings nation-wide. Coolidge was keenly aware that circumstances had not always been peaceful in and around White City and many had never been there — yet, as with so many things, Coolidge appealed to higher ideals, to what could and should be, to the potential each individual possesses instead of an acceptance of what is now.

Emerging out of the struggle to survive during the first half of the nineteenth century and then to build the country, America turned to the mastery of architecture. Coolidge recounts the great names whose mark remains in the lines and form of Henry H. Richardson’s work, Trinity Church in Boston, the labors of Stanford White and Augustus Saint-Gaudens, the resplendence of the White City in south Chicago, the ornate grandeur of the murals at the Library of Congress and the majestic redesign of Washington’s public buildings making it, as even Coolidge envisioned, “the most beautiful capital in the world.”

Trinity Church, Boston, as it appears today.

Born in Louisiana, Henry H. Richardson would become a legendary designer of Northern landmarks, ushering in his own Romanesque style to what he created and standing as one of the foremost influences on American architectural designs.

Born in Louisiana, Henry H. Richardson would become a legendary designer of many a Northern landmark, ushering in his own Romanesque style and standing as one of the foremost influences on American architectural designs.

It was not only in creating great art, however, that service to nobler principles is rendered, it is also in the preservation and availability afforded by museums that people can find “the development of an artistic sense” as well as “the love of the beautiful.” Coolidge ushers us to the expansive outdoors in full appreciation for the unsurpassed natural canvas within our reach. “Encouragement and aid have been given in the establishment of new museums, particularly those of the small-community type. To furnish facilities for nature study and to enhance the enjoyment of life out of doors, museums have been started in our National and State parks. Whatever may be done to increase museum facilities and to render their collections of more use to mankind as a most valuable service…deserves every encouragement.”

The profile of Stanford White’s Madison Square Garden stand against the skyline, left of the Clock Tower (at right), in this photograph from 1923. It was the second tallest building in New York City in its time.

Here is the very controversial statue of Diana the huntress at the pinnacle of the Madison Square Gardens' tower. It was designed by none other than the great Augustus Saint-Gaudens. Concerns over the modesty (or lack thereof) of the design caused quite an uproar for many years. A cloth was manufactured to cover the statue but it soon blew away. Interestingly, Diana now resides with the Philadelphia Museum of Art, given in 1932 by the owners of the old Garden location, New York Life Insurance Company.

Here is the very controversial statue of Diana the huntress standing at the pinnacle of the Madison Square Gardens’ tower. It was designed by none other than the great Augustus Saint-Gaudens. Concerns over the modesty (or lack thereof) of the design caused quite an uproar for many years. A cloth was actually manufactured to cover the statue but it soon blew away. Interestingly, Diana now resides with the Philadelphia Museum of Art, given in 1932 by the owners of the old Garden location, New York Life Insurance Company.

For Coolidge, the importance of art was not merely its aesthetic qualities but its practical role in improving our lives and the places around us. It meant getting out of the stifling office and back to the woods, the hills and plains, steams and lakes of our country. It meant getting back outside, reconnecting with reality and regaining the unique perspective time in nature can alone provide. “If clothes make the man – and certainly good dress gives one a sense of self-respect and poise – how much more is it true that clean, beautiful surroundings lend a moral tone to a community.” Consequently, without a single government program or legislative package, the “squalor of the slums of our big cities and…the oppressive ugliness of some of the small towns” began going away during the 1920s, a point Coolidge praised. Economic growth encouraged by Coolidge’s tax and budgetary cutting helped, of course, but so did his repeated admonitions to take stock of spiritual things, cultivating our moral power above and beyond our material success. After all, it was the strength of the soul and the resilience of the family that made the home stand, not the steel and concrete or bricks and mortar of a building, however impressive on the outside.

A view up the stairs in the Great Hall of the Library of Congress

Looking up at the Dome of the Library of Congress, featuring the “Evolution of Civilizations” mural

Senator James McMillan

Envisioned by Mcmillan to convey the dignity and grandeur of our Republic, embodied in its traditions and institutions, what became known as the "Federal Triangle" had been advocated for many years before the 1920s. It would be largely through the vision and persistence of Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon (including no insignificant part by Coolidge himself) who would see it realized in the 1930s.

Envisioned by Mcmillan and his commission to convey the dignity and grandeur of our Republic, as embodied in its traditions and institutions, the “Federal Triangle” project had been advocated for many years before the 1920s. It would be largely through the sacrifice and persistence of Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon (including no insignificant part by Coolidge himself) that it would finally see completion in 1938.

The incomparable Frederick L. Olmstead left a profound mark on landscape architecture in America, from New York’s Central Park to the design of the Capitol grounds in Washington and, through sons John and Frederick Jr., from the Chicago World’s Fair to the Bok Tower and Gardens in Lake Wales, Florida. He, more than any other designer of his time, underscored the enduring importance of what Coolidge emphasizes in this speech: renewing again our appreciation for and connection to America’s natural beauty.

Art was something more to him than a mere abstraction, it was a reflection of the soul, a diagnosis of the spirit, nationally and individually. This is why caring about genuine beauty and truth had a larger significance than the artifacts in a museum gallery. “It is especially the practical side of art that requires more emphasis. We need to put more effort into translating art into the daily life of the people. If we could surround ourselves with forms of beauty, the evil things of life would tend to disappear and our moral standards would be raised. Through our contact with the beautiful we see more of the truth and are brought into closer harmony with the infinite.”

Coolidge present for the bi-annual meeting of the American Antiquarian Society, this time held outside Academy of Arts and Sciences, 28 Newbury Street, April 15, 1931.