The Autobiographical Notes of Charles Evans Hughes (Review)
Recently, I read a book on the history of U.S. foreign relations. The author referenced Charles Evans Hughes in his role as Secretary of State and briefly as the narrow loser to Woodrow Wilson in the 1916 presidential election. As a lawyer, I knew of Hughes from his service on the Supreme Court, but after hearing of his other roles, it seemed as if he was someone who I ought to know.
Sadly, there were no obvious choices for a Hughes biography, which leads me to argue that he is on the shortlist of most-forgotten individuals of great significance. In the absence of a biography, I chose the next best thing: The Autobiographical Notes of Charles Evans Hughes. Hughes did not write a true autobiography. Instead—at the urging of friends and colleagues—he recorded his thoughts with an expectation that others would someday write about his service as:
Governor of New York
Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court
Secretary of State
Chief Justice of the Supreme Court
While some did write about Hughes closer to his lifetime, nearly all are out of print and most focus on mere segments of his service-filled life. And it is a shame because he was an interesting individual. Though not in the autobiography, Hughes once noted that “[a] man has to live with himself, and he should see to it that he always has good company.” Based on what I’ve read, he fully accomplished his goal.
Despite the scope of content in his autobiographical notes, there is a great shortcoming in the book. To paraphrase Mark Twain, autobiographies are the truest lies. This idea stayed with me as I read the notes of Hughes. The feeling remained not because there seemed to be exaggerations or surprises that deviated from what I already knew, but more so that people cannot help but present themselves in the best possible light. Such an approach is not a critique but something to consider when reading this or any other autobiography.
For individuals who might be interested in reading The Autobiographical Notes of Charles Evans Hughes, I’ll recommend it only for those whose interest is quite deep. As indicated in the title, this publication is a collection of notes instead of a real book, so it is a sluggish read. The information is rich, and some of the anecdotes are insightful, but it in no way compares to well-written book. Still, the content is information, and Charles Evans Hughes is someone who ought not be forgotten. For individuals are not interested in reading Autobiographical Notes, here are a few points you might find interesting:
In his advice to young lawyers, Hughes noted the importance of seeking out admirable mentors. Through observation and practice, an individual can learn the importance of being “courteous, but never obsequious, always the gentleman. He learns how important it is to keep one’s temper, never to appear nervous or to lose poise; never to be petty, wordy, repetitious; to know when to keep still; to express himself candidly, concisely, always going directly to the point; to use a rapier rather than a club...” When I speak to older attorneys, this concept of mentorship seemed to be embedded into their experience. I do not see it as prevalent in today’s culture, and I am curious whether it has more to do with the individuals who have experience or the individuals who are seeking experience. I imagine it is some combination of the two.
Henry C. Beerits, worked in Washington, D.C. as a research assistant to Evans Hughes before he went to law school and proceeded on an impressively diverse career of his own. Beerits recorded that Hughes “realized that in public affairs, one has to count on the general apathy of the people, unless the matter touches their immediate interest, in which case they will act according to that interest, despite any preaching to the contrary.” While cynical, this assessment has also been my own in both politics and beyond.
I didn’t realize that the certiorari process only began in 1925 after significant congressional reforms. Prior to the Judiciary Act of 1925, the Supreme Court regularly operated with a backlog of 150 cases. After the Act, the justices gained the sole discretion to determine their caseload by issuing a writ of certiorari when four justices vote in favor of hearing the case.
Hughes seemed to be one of those individuals who had masterful discipline. It is clear his parents emphasized the trait with his early education. But it played out in interesting ways in adulthood. In adulthood, he had been laboring with generally poor health. At a dinner party, he was smoking with his colleagues and said to himself, “I think I won’t smoke again for a little while,” which resulted in him quitting completely. Self-discipline is no small feat, but it also does not seem to be a deeply emphasized value. Yet without self-discipline, there are broad, negative effects for those who do not have it.
As Secretary of State, Hughes adopted an employment process based entirely on merit. He commented that “the notion a wide-awake, average American can do anything is flattering to the American pride, but costs the Government dearly. In every line of effort—professional, commercial or industrial—it is thoroughly understood that you cannot obtain the necessary technical equipment through mere general experience or by reading instructions...The patent fact is that you cannot have an efficient foreign service without having trained men and you cannot secure trained men without an adequate system for their selection and maintenance; and you cannot keep men who have been properly selected and trained and are invaluable to their country unless you offer reasonable opportunities for promotion.”
All of these comments suggest a non-republican and elitist stance. Yet see his later comments about the barriers that poor people face when securing foreign-service positions: “I decry the method which limits the selection and discriminates against the poor man of equal ability. We talk a great deal of love of our country, and I should like to see a better appreciation of what its interests demand.” Such an idea is republican in the classical sense of the word—that anyone should hold a position whose talents warrant such a role.Judge Learned Hand once observed that Charles Evans Hughes Sr. was the greatest lawyer he had ever known, "except that his son was even greater." This analysis is particularly interesting in light of Senior’s ascension to the Chief Justice, which led to Junior’s resignation as Solicitor General.
When Hughes was re-nominated to the Supreme Court, there were some Senators who attacked his previous record as an associate chief justice. Some also attacked the clients that he represented along the way. American philosopher, Zechariah Chafee, responded in his defense by writing Free Speech in the United States: “If we blame a prominent lawyer like Mr. Hughes for some of his clients, we are merely chiming in with those who constantly call the American Civil Liberties Union communistic because it has represented communists along with the great many other defendants.…Any lawyer who is eminent enough to be named to the Supreme Court of the United States has too able and complex a mind to admit of such an easy explanation. Probably the best place to look, if you want to guess his future attitude toward important cases, is not in his file of clients or in his safe-deposit box but at the books in his private library at home.” There is so much thoughtfulness to unpack in this excerpt—both the role of attorneys and the significance of the books people read (or don’t read).
Hughes’s assessment of his time as chief justice is probably the most interesting and insightful portion of his autobiography. His summary of Roosevelt’s court-packing scheme and his analysis of the other justices lends more of a personal touch than the rest of his notes, which are quite clinical.
Another enjoyable anecdote that lends insight into the man behind the intimidating legal figure is a story that took place after Hughes administered FDR‘s third oath of office. Hughes afterwards told Roosevelt that, “I had an impish desire to break the solemnity of the occasion by remarking: ‘Franklin, don’t you think this is getting to be a trifle monotonous!’” That playfulness makes me all the more confident that Hughes’s life warrants a full biography. I hope a historian takes up the mantle sometime soon.
