Writing for Salon.com, Coolidge biographer David Greenberg, a professor of history at Rutgers, has noted Sarah Palin’s interest in Coolidge.

A reader who knew only the author and title of Sarah Palin’s new book, “America by Heart,” would in all likelihood be able to predict many of the delights contained within: self-justifying accounts of her behavior on the 2008 campaign, snarky jabs at President Obama, paeans to the Alaska grizzly. Rapturous words for Calvin Coolidge, however, would probably not be among the expected finds. And yet peppered through Palin’s new volume of ruminations lies a handful of admiring references to our 30th president. The oddity is worth pondering.

Obviously, Greenberg is no Palin fan. But he does display a cautious (if not uncritical) appreciation for Coolidge. “To most people today,” he points out, “Coolidge is little more than a cartoon. If he’s remembered at all, he’s the grim-faced ‘Silent Cal,’ the man said by Theodore Roosevelt’s daughter Alice to have looked as though he had been weaned on a pickle.”

In fact, though, Coolidge was a president of real accomplishment, Greenberg contends. As evidence, he cites both the Dawes Plan for European debt relief and the federal government’s response to the 1927 Mississippi flood. (He also mentions, but does endorse, Coolidge’s economic policies.)

Greenberg points out that Palin’s interest in Coolidge hardly makes her unique, especially among Republicans.

For decades, since the arrival in power with Ronald Reagan of so-called movement conservatives, Coolidge has been a patron saint to the right — a symbol of patriotism and piety, of hard work and thrift, and not least of low taxes and minimal government. When Reagan moved into the White House in 1981, he removed the portraits of Thomas Jefferson and Harry Truman in the Cabinet Room and put up those of Dwight Eisenhower and Coolidge instead.

Greenberg explains the Coolidge boom as a two-part phenomenon:

Coolidge retains this mystique because he reconciled two different strains of conservatism and two different factions of the Republican Party. His approval of the decade’s kinetic capitalism pleased Chamber of Commerce types. But economic growth also has a way of unleashing cultural change, and Coolidge’s flinty New England virtue reassured traditionalists worried about moral decay during a time of the “new woman” and the “new Negro,” of the Scopes trial and jazz. “We were smack in the middle of the Roaring Twenties, with hip flasks, joy rides, and bathtub gin parties setting the social standards,” wrote Edmund Starling, Coolidge’s Secret Service agent and daily walking companion. “The president was the antithesis of all this and he despised it.”

At the same time, however, Coolidge was a remarkably modern president, especially when it came to public relations. As Greenberg relates:

Despite his reputation for silence, moreover, Coolidge was a skilled speechmaker — a prizewinning orator as a student and the last president to write most of his own remarks — and he excelled especially at the patriotic homilies that Sarah Palin seems to admire.

Overall, Greenberg’s take on Coolidge may not sit well with Silent Cal’s contemporary admirers (including many readers of  this blog, no doubt.) But Greenberg does show a willingness to take Coolidge seriously as a political figure — rather than treating him as some sort of nameless, faceless, do-nothing presidential potted plant. And that’s something we should all be grateful for.

Amity spoke to freshmen congressmen this weekend on Silent Cal and his virtues, starting with thrift and a willingness to learn his craft, politics. The event was hosted by the Heritage Foundation. Each new lawmaker who attended the event, and any other who asks, will get a copy of Silent Cal’s autobiography, thanks to Mimi Baird and her colleagues at the Calvin Coolidge Memorial Foundation.
CCMF and the notaries’ anthology, “Why Coolidge Matters,” both came up in Amity’s conversations with the new lawmakers.
The lawmakers wanted to know what Silent Cal would have said on the question of the day, which is whether the lawmakers should vote to raise the debt ceiling.

A younger cousin of the Coolidge maple (may it rest in pieces)

Breaking news for Coolidge fans looking to redecorate:

A 150-year-old sugar maple that was probably tapped by former President Calvin Coolidge has been cut down, but a woodworker hopes to turn it into fine furniture.

The tree that had stood on the lawn of the Coolidge homestead in Plymouth Notch was cut down earlier this month, a victim of old age.

Brent Karner of Clear Lake Furniture of Ludlow hopes to turn the tree into Coolidge furniture. Karner says the scars left by maple taps give the wood a distinctive feature.

The Rutland Herald says Karner will work with the Vermont Division of Historic Preservation, which owns the homestead, to figure out what can be made from the wood.

via Vt. removes maple from Calvin Coolidge homestead.

Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., unfairly maligned presidential biographer

Seems that the folks at the National Review are eagerly awaiting Amity’s biography of Coolidge. In a list of “Best Presidential Biographies,” we find:

Calvin Coolidge, by Robert Sobel. Learn why so many conservatives admire Silent Cal. I’ve heard that Amity Schlaes is working on a Coolidge biography. It promises to become the standard. There’s also the out-of-print Coolidge and the Historians, by the late Thomas B. Silver. After reading it, you will never again trust another word written by Arthur Schlesinger. For something less conventional, try John Derbyshire’s outstanding novel, Seeing Calvin Coolidge in a Dream.

I think we’re all eager to read Amity’s take on Coolidge. I plan to be first in line (at least as soon as Amazon offers a preorder link).

But I feel the need to offer some words in defense of Schlesinger. Say what you will about his treatment of Coolidge, it would be a tragedy if people decided to “never again trust another word” written by him. Sure, he was a New Deal fanboy (and a Kennedy fanboy, too, for that matter). And his work was not always dispassionate.

But then, neither is the work of any biographer. Show me a biography that doesn’t fall into the “pro” or “anti” camp for its subject, and I’ll show you a biography that no one wants to read. Passion and opinion are what animates historical writing. You don’t have to  agree with the opinions behind a book to still learn a lot from it.

As for Schlesinger, let me say (as someone who has spent way too much of his adult life reading about the New Deal), he did a fine job with Roosevelt. There are other New Deal books I like better, to be sure. But his are still great.

And if you just can’t stomach his FDR cheerleading, then let me suggest what may be Schlesinger’s best work: his biography of Andrew Jackson. Like the New Deal books, his Jackson bio is anything but evenhanded. Indeed, it’s really just a New Deal book in disguise. But it’s still a damn good book and an even better read.

Anybody want to take issue with this?

Coolidge rented one-half of this two-family house in Northampton, MA for most of his adult life. He only moved out after retiring from the presidency.

Back in May, The Atlantic published a list of U.S. presidents and their estimated personal fortunes (not all which really deserve such a grandiose description). Coolidge ranked near the bottom, with a net worth of “less than $1 million” in today’s dollars. By contrast, George Washington was worth close to half a billion. Not too shabby.

Of the three Republican presidents of the 1920s, two were relative paupers, at least by White House standards. Harding joined Coolidge in the under-$1 million club. But Herbert Hoover — who made plenty of money before entering politics — enjoyed  a personal fortune of something like $75 million .

Here’s what The Atlantic has to say about Coolidge’s financial condition:

Coolidge’s father was prosperous farmer and storekeeper … He spent five years as an attorney, and almost two decades in public office, which included time as Governor of Massachusetts. His net worth derived primarily from his home, “The Beeches,” in Northampton, Massachusetts, the advance from his autobiography, and the money he made from his newspaper column.

Notably, pretty much all of Coolidge’s assets (at least according to the magazine) were amassed after his presidency. Which may explain why his principal residence for most of his adult life was a rental: one half of a two-family house at 21 Massasoit Street in Northampton, MA.

The Coolidge rehabilitation seems to be spreading, thanks in part to the publication of Why Coolidge Matters (which has gotten a rather remarkable amount of press). Here’s an item I ran across today:

The Vermont Republican is well known, perhaps, for what he didn’t do. In some history classes, he has been referred to as lazy, with some rumors even suggesting he was clinically depressed. But if you were to ask historians and family members of Coolidge what they think, the opinions and memories change dramatically. In fact, they are more like rebuttals to several decades worth of redicule by casual observers.

“Coolidge was our President during a time of peace and prosperity, between the two wars,” said Vermont Governor James H. Douglas (R). “He has a lot of offer the current American political scene. Fiscal responsibility, for example. He came at a time when our debt was quite high, when tax burdens were quite high, and he worked hard to reduce them.”

As one of the first radio presidents, Douglas claims President Coolidge was actually quite the conversationalist, connecting on levels to the American public in ways that are often overshadowed by historically great communicators like FDR and Ronald Reagan. A new book, “Why Coolidge Matters,” showcases some of the political victories and Presidential precedents set by Coolidge.

via 9NEWS.com | Colorado’s Online News Leader | Worst President ever, or simply misunderstood?.

Garland Tucker's new book on the 1924 election

As Americans head to the polls today, I’m sure everyone is pondering the 1924 battle between Calvin Coolidge and John W. Davis. What? You’re skeptical? Well, if they aren’t, they should be. And they can start their studies by taking a gander at Garland Tucker’s new book, The High Tide of American Conservatism.

On it’s surface, Tucker’s book tells the story of an election, the presidential contest of 1924 that pit Republican Calvin Coolidge against Democrat John W. Davis.

But it’s really a tandem biography of two prominent conservatives. Such books are never easy to write, often ending up as a lopsided treatment of two main characters, with one getting all the attention and the other relegated to the margins. Not so with Tucker’s book, however, which does a fine job with both its protagonists. Its fine sense of balance clearly derives from Tucker’s obvious admiration for both men.

Tucker’s principal goal is fairly straightforward: he wants to remind us that 1924 marked the last time both major parties nominated genuine conservatives for the presidency. Throughout the book, he stresses the  philosophical commonalities between Coolidge and Davis — commonalities that might surprise  readers inclined to view the political universe in binary terms, with Republicans consistently on the right and Democrats always on the left. While such a view is oversimplified even in today’s political arena, it’s even more misleading when projected into the past.

Tucker is unhappy with the historiographical treatment of both Coolidge and Davis. “Modern historians have consistently and regrettably ignored or belittled them,” he contends. Coolidge has been reduced to a caricature of mindless conservatism, while Davis has been nearly forgotten. Both men deserve better. Coolidge, for his part, was a thoughtful and decent man.  ”Not only did he articulate a coherent, thoughtful strand of conservatism,” Tucker writes, “but he also came — quite accurately — to be seen as an icon for those solid American values of honesty, hard work, self-reliance, and thrift.”

Davis shared many of these virtues, while adding a few more to boot. He was able, honest, charming, and smart, Tucker maintains. And he was every inch the conservative that Coolidge was. “Davis was a Democrat dedicated to small government, states’ rights, individual freedom, and free trade in the tradition of Jefferson, Madison, Cleveland, and Parker,” he observes.

The 1924 election pit these two pillars of conservatism against one another. “It is remarkable that both political parties nominated a bona fide conservative,” Tucker notes, “and, in some ways, this election was a defining moment in American presidential election history.” Indeed, it represented high tide of American conservatism, Tucker contends. (As opposed to the high tide of progressivism, which occurred in 1912 when all three major candidates for the presidency — including Bull Mooser Theodore Roosevelt — could make a plausible claim to the mantle of progressive politics).

Tucker casts the 1924 election as part of a longer drama. “Twentieth -century American political history was certainly dominated by the conflict betweent he left and the right over the proper role of government,” he writes. Tucker’s book offers a lucid, readable, and and extremely valuable portrait of two key players in this drama over the role of the state.

Even more important, however, Tucker reminds us that partisan alignments are not timeless. Democrats and Republicans have not always arrayed themselves in simple, predictable patterns along the ideological cleavage between statists and anti-statists. Such alignments have changed. And they will again.

Two weeks before election day in 1924, Washington Star cartoonist Clifford Berryman took aim at the partisan competition over tax cuts.

In an era of buoyant revenues and restrained spending, lawmakers felt free to promise additional tax relief. Partisan divisions centered not on the desirability of tax cuts in general, but on their distribution in particular.

For the most part, Democrats were eager to raise income tax exemptions, thereby freeing more Americans from a tax widely considered a rich man’s burden. Republicans, by contrast, were more interested in cutting marginal rates for the income tax, while also arguing for elimination of the federal estate tax.

Find more on 1920s tax policy at the Tax History Project at Tax Analysts.