Joe’s point about the policemen is something I tried to capture in my Coolidge article, but did it inadequately. This is the great tension of all such battles. The Boston police were right. They were underpaid. What one might call the “hard-ass-ness” of Curtis, what we call being like Scrooge, is what always makes conservatives look bad. Sometimes deservedly so.

Back in September, when I was blogging about the Boston police strike, I meant to post something about Dennis Lehane’s historical novel, The Given Day. The book tells the story of several characters living in Boston at the time of the strike, including a well-connected young policeman, Danny Coughlin.

As a work of historical fiction, The Given Day is really quite extraordinary. Lehane has a remarkable gift for period detail and dialog — no small thing, given the propensity to exaggerate Irish accents in almost every fictional treatment of the city. Lehane does a truly fine job of bringing early 20th century Boston to life.

The book also makes a passionate argument on behalf of the strikers. Generally speaking, Lehane portrays city and state officials as hapless, venal, uncaring, heartless, and incompetent. Coolidge makes a few brief cameos, never to much effect, but his role remains implicitly central as Lehane crafts his ringing indictment of police commissioner Edwin Upton Curtis.

In her review of Lehane’s book, Janet Maslin drew attention to its depiction of Curtis:

“The Given Day” creates a particularly chilling portrait of Boston’s police commissioner, Edwin Upton Curtis, as a dangerous has-been with no regard for the safety, dignity or vulnerability of his cops.

That’s a fair assessment of Lehane’s treatment of Curtis, and to my mind, a fair assessment of Curtis, too. The police strike was avoidable, as almost everyone involved (including Coolidge) was well aware. But rather than trying to defuse the situation, Curtis made it worse.

The Boston police had a long list of legitimate grievances, including scandalously low pay and poor working conditions (as Amity noted in her recent Forbes article). The patrolmen, loosely organized as the Boston Social Club, had been negotiating with city officials for years. In return, they got a series of excuses and half-met promises.

To be fair, city officials were struggling with chronically tight budgets and dysfunctional political institutions — not to mention the economic upheaval of World War I.  But the hard fact remains: Boston cops had been treated shabbily for years.

Many city and civic leaders were aware that something had to be done. Even as the prospect of a strike loomed large in the summer of 1919, hopes for a compromise ran high. But Curtis showed scant interest in finding common ground. Eager to assert his authority, he seemed intent on confrontation.

Once the police had crossed their Rubicon and begun the strike, different issues were in play. Coolidge had  was determined to establish the primacy of law, order, and political authority. But we can admire his stand and still lament the need for it. The Boston police strike was an avoidable tragedy. The blame for it must be shared by the strikers (who played fast and loose with the public’s right to safety) and city officials (who refused to address complaints that even they acknowledged to be legitimate).

Coolidge and General John J. Pershing on the steps of the Massachusetts State House, Feb. 25, 1920

In February 1920, General John J. “Black Jack” Pershing visited Boston and posed with Coolidge on the steps of the Massachusetts state capital.

Pershing, who had led the American Expeditionary Force in World War I, was a national hero at the time, and some Republican activists were trying to draft him for a 1920 presidential run.

Coolidge, on the heels of his performance in crushing the Boston police strike, was also a rising star in national Republican circles.

Incidentally, Pershing’s nickname, “Black Jack,” derived from his stint in the 10th Cavalry Regiment, a unit composed of African American soldiers and white officers. The nickname was a sanitized version of a more offensive nickname bestowed on Pershing by West Point cadets.

Three brief thoughts on a visit to the Boston Public Library Exhibit Commemorating the 1919 Police Strike:

1) This is one of the most civilized libraries in the world. Charles McKim made a house of angels with all this pink Tennessee marble. You get the feeling in this library, that the architects and founders of this library knew they were right.

2) Relatedly, the documents of this small exhibit remind that Coolidge, in standing firm against the striking police was hardly standing alone. Today a political leader who fought back against public sector workers would have the support of — Rush Limbaugh, or the Washington Times which is to say, not the establishment. Then the establishment backed the leaders up.

3) A document from the strike (supportive of Coolidge) speaks about “Americanism” and defending it. The strikes were perceived as an action inspired by abroad, which in fact they were — with the Russian revolution so fresh and on everyone’s mind.

Samuel Gompers, president of the American Federation of Labor. Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress.

On September 14, 1919, Coolidge sent a telegram to Samuel Gompers, president of the American Federation of Labor (AFL). Artful and at times almost eloquent in its terse phraseology, it included a statement that would soon rocket Coolidge to national prominence. (See highlighted text below.)

A TELEGRAM
BOSTON, MASS., Sept. 14, 1919

MR. SAMUEL GOMPERS

President American Federation of Labor, New York City, N.Y.

Replying to your telegram, I have already refused to remove the Police Commissioner of Boston. I did not appoint him. He can assume no position which the courts would uphold except what the people have by the authority of their law vested in him. He speaks only with their voice. The right of the police of Boston to affiliate has always been questioned, never granted, is now prohibited. The suggestion of President Wilson to Washington does not apply to Boston. There the police have remained on duty. Here the Policemen’s Union left their duty, an action which President Wilson characterized as a crime against civilization. Your assertion that the Commissioner was wrong cannot justify the wrong of leaving the city unguarded. That furnished the opportunity, the criminal element furnished the action. There is no right to strike against the public safety by anybody, anywhere, any time. [emphasis added] You ask that the public safety again be placed in the hands of these same policemen while they continue in disobedience to the laws of Massachusetts and in their refusal to obey the orders of the Police Department. Nineteen men have been tried and removed. Others having abandoned their duty, their places have, under the law, been declared vacant on the opinion of the Attorney-General. I can suggest no authority outside the courts to take further action. I wish to join and assist in taking a broad view of every situation. A grave responsibility rests on all of us. You can depend on me to support you in every legal action and sound policy. I am equally determined to defend the sovereignty of Massachusetts and to maintain the authority and jurisdiction over her public officers where it has been placed by the Constitution and law of her people.

CALVIN COOLIDGE
Governor of Massachusetts

"Have Faith in Massachusetts," which shares a title with one of Coolidge's most famous speeches, was published as he rose to national prominence in 1919

On September 11, 1919, Coolidge issued a proclamation, firmly establishing his position on the police strike, as well as an order to the city’s police chief.

Both documents were later reprinted in Coolidge’s book, Have Faith in Massachusetts.

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts
By His Excellency Calvin Coolidge, Governor

A PROCLAMATION

The entire State Guard of Massachusetts has been called out. Under the Constitution the Governor is the Commander-in-Chief thereof by an authority of which he could not if he chose divest himself. That command I must and will exercise. Under the law I hereby call on all the police of Boston who have loyally and in a never-to-be-forgotten way remained on duty to aid me in the performance of my duty of the restoration and maintenance of order in the city of Boston, and each of such officers is required to act in obedience to such orders as I may hereafter issue or cause to be issued.

I call on every citizen to aid me in the maintenance of law and order.

Given at the Executive Chamber, in Boston, this eleventh day of September, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and nineteen, and of the Independence of the United States of America the one hundred and forty-fourth.

CALVIN COOLIDGE

At the same time, Coolidge also issued an order to Boston Chief of Police Edwin Curtis:

AN ORDER
BOSTON, September 11, 1919

To EDWIN U. CURTIS,

As you are Police Commissioner of the City of Boston,

Executive Order No. 1

You are hereby directed, for the purpose of assisting me in the performance of my duty, pursuant to the proclamation issued by me this day, to proceed in the performance of your duties as Police Commissioner of the city of Boston under my command and in obedience to such orders as I shall issue from time to time, and obey only such orders as I may so issue or transmit.

CALVIN COOLIDGE
Governor of Massachusetts

New York Times headlines describing events in Boston on September 10, 1919

On September 10, 1919, Boston city officials asked the state militia to help maintain public order. Units in Boston responded immediately, and Governor Coolidge summoned additional troops from outside the city. By nightfall, thousands of soldiers were patrolling the streets.

They had their work cut out for them. Looters roamed the streets throughout the city, breaking shop windows and loading their trucks with stolen goods. One thief made off with 39 cases of shoes (worth roughly $10,000) from the McElwain Shoe Company

“Numberless persons  were robbed,” the New York Times reported, and professional gamblers emerged from their dens to ply their trade openly on the streets. “One man on the Common,” the Times noted, “had just pocketed gains of $200 when he was knocked in the head and his roll taken.”

At times, the violence seemed particularly wanton and indiscriminate.

Other crimes of a revolting nature were committed. Unprotected women were brutally assaulted in dark corners. Two women pursued by a mob found refuge in the City hospital. Their pursuers forced their way into the institution, where they were driven back by policemen who had just brought in a man with a bullet in his head.

State Guard units responded vigorously to such disorder. ”Guardsmen opened fire with rifles and a machine gun on a mob in South Boston,” reported the Times, “killing two and wounding several others.” In Scollay Square, near police headquarters, a cavalry unit drew sabers and charged a mob of “hoodlums.” When the mob surged back, the cavalry asked for reinforcements, and 200 infantryman arrived to help restore calm.

Meanwhile, city and state officials traded accusations of incompetence, as each group tried to saddle the other with responsibility for the unrest. But as the strike entered its second day, all agreed that military units should be used to restore order. Governor Coolidge even promised to ask Washington for army and navy units should the need arise. Troops stationed at the Charlestown Navy yard, as well as  various forts around Boston harbor, were reported to be available.