campaigned against the Sherman Silver Purchase Act, passed in 1890, blaming it for instability; by expanding the money base beyond gold, he alleged, the Harrison administration had set the stage for a panic. Americans were choosing to redeem their new silver money for gold, which in turn was reducing the gold supply and forcing a contraction upon the economy. At Yale, which Amherst played against in football, there was a professor, William Graham Sumner, who was laying out the argument against protectionism. But Cleveland was living it.
In addition, the political experts noted, Cleveland was a champion of the so-called pocket veto, refusing to sign a bill until Congress adjourned, at which point it died. A regular veto could be overridden, but not a pocket veto. With a pocket veto, the executive enjoyed the additional advantage that he might veto without the usual enumeration of his objections. It took an aggressive, even bloody-minded, president to reject Congress’s work in that way. Cleveland had vetoed more than four hundred bills, many of them individual favors, such as pensions to veterans.
The professors at Amherst cast their vote—for stability, the gold standard, free trade, and Cleveland. The New York Times reported that “[of] the thirty-three professors constituting the Faculty of Amherst college, seven are for Harrison and twenty-three for Cleveland.” The Amherst fans included Edward Dickinson; David Todd; John Bates Clark, who would become famous for his economic theories; George Olds, a new math professor from Rochester who was already a favorite of the students; and Anson Morse, the college’s expert in politics. Some of the professors felt strongly enough to write a public letter supporting Cleveland and send it to the Times . “We remember his tariff message, his pension vetoes, and his letter against free silver as conspicuous instances of disregarding personal considerations for the public good,” they wrote.
Harrison lost to Cleveland, a shock to the student body of Amherst, which was more Republican than its teachers. On November 17, 1892, Coolidge wrote to his grandmother to report, “The democrats have a celebration here this evening and I shall go out to see some of it.” Coolidge’s letters home were fast shifting from accounts of homesickness to discursive analyses of politics. After the election he wrote to John about the fickleness of the voter, “The result of the election was as much a surprise to the Democrats here as to the Republicans, and nobody seems able to account for it satisfactorily yet. I do not think it much use to blame Chairman Carter [Thomas Henry Carter, the chairman of the Republican National Committee] or the tariff or the Homestead affair, the reason seems to be in the never satisfied mind of the American and in the ever desire to shift in hope of something better and in the vague idea of the working and farming classes that somebody is getting all the money while they get all the work.”
AS THE YEARS PASSED, the student’s confidence grew. The oudens formed their own society. The first of Coolidge’s new friends was John Percy Deering from Saco, Maine, another rural New England Republican and a prominent football player. In early 1893, Coolidge moved with Deering and another man into Morse’s boardinghouse, closer to campus. A second new friend was Ernest Hardy of Northampton, the county seat, the boy who, Dr. Hitchcock had noted, was the largest in the class. He was an ouden, most likely, out of economy. Together Hardy and Coolidge were a noticeable pair, the heavy and the thin. It was to Hardy’s town, Northampton, that Coolidge went on errands; Hardy introduced him around. Coolidge found a cobbler on Gothic Street he liked, James Lucey, an Irishman with a growing family who had arrived from County Kerry in 1880. Lucey had bought a home but was still paying off the mortgage. Coolidge noticed how hard Lucey worked. Like Coolidge’s father, Lucey derived
In addition, the political experts noted, Cleveland was a champion of the so-called pocket veto, refusing to sign a bill until Congress adjourned, at which point it died. A regular veto could be overridden, but not a pocket veto. With a pocket veto, the executive enjoyed the additional advantage that he might veto without the usual enumeration of his objections. It took an aggressive, even bloody-minded, president to reject Congress’s work in that way. Cleveland had vetoed more than four hundred bills, many of them individual favors, such as pensions to veterans.
The professors at Amherst cast their vote—for stability, the gold standard, free trade, and Cleveland. The New York Times reported that “[of] the thirty-three professors constituting the Faculty of Amherst college, seven are for Harrison and twenty-three for Cleveland.” The Amherst fans included Edward Dickinson; David Todd; John Bates Clark, who would become famous for his economic theories; George Olds, a new math professor from Rochester who was already a favorite of the students; and Anson Morse, the college’s expert in politics. Some of the professors felt strongly enough to write a public letter supporting Cleveland and send it to the Times . “We remember his tariff message, his pension vetoes, and his letter against free silver as conspicuous instances of disregarding personal considerations for the public good,” they wrote.
Harrison lost to Cleveland, a shock to the student body of Amherst, which was more Republican than its teachers. On November 17, 1892, Coolidge wrote to his grandmother to report, “The democrats have a celebration here this evening and I shall go out to see some of it.” Coolidge’s letters home were fast shifting from accounts of homesickness to discursive analyses of politics. After the election he wrote to John about the fickleness of the voter, “The result of the election was as much a surprise to the Democrats here as to the Republicans, and nobody seems able to account for it satisfactorily yet. I do not think it much use to blame Chairman Carter [Thomas Henry Carter, the chairman of the Republican National Committee] or the tariff or the Homestead affair, the reason seems to be in the never satisfied mind of the American and in the ever desire to shift in hope of something better and in the vague idea of the working and farming classes that somebody is getting all the money while they get all the work.”
AS THE YEARS PASSED, the student’s confidence grew. The oudens formed their own society. The first of Coolidge’s new friends was John Percy Deering from Saco, Maine, another rural New England Republican and a prominent football player. In early 1893, Coolidge moved with Deering and another man into Morse’s boardinghouse, closer to campus. A second new friend was Ernest Hardy of Northampton, the county seat, the boy who, Dr. Hitchcock had noted, was the largest in the class. He was an ouden, most likely, out of economy. Together Hardy and Coolidge were a noticeable pair, the heavy and the thin. It was to Hardy’s town, Northampton, that Coolidge went on errands; Hardy introduced him around. Coolidge found a cobbler on Gothic Street he liked, James Lucey, an Irishman with a growing family who had arrived from County Kerry in 1880. Lucey had bought a home but was still paying off the mortgage. Coolidge noticed how hard Lucey worked. Like Coolidge’s father, Lucey derived
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