#14: Franklin Pierce (1804-1869)

I just love when a PBG (Presidential BioGraphy) starts this way! “Franklin Pierce was arguably the most handsome man ever to serve as president of the United States. He was certainly one of the most amiable and congenial men to hold that office. Because of his popularity, personal charm, and family lineage, he enjoyed a meteoric political career in New Hampshire” (p. 1). And just like that, the author, Michael Holt, describes the keys to a successful political career that have been around since the beginning of time.

Interestingly, there are not very many PBGs of Franklin Pierce and so, since I was quite limited, I found myself falling back on the old standby—the American Presidents Series. Thus, I read Franklin Pierce: American Presidents Series by Michael F Holt (Times Books: New York, 2010). As I’ve mentioned before, I was looking forward to this biography with some anticipation. Other authors have stated that Pierce was a pretty total loss as a president and of course, this has got to mean some eye-opening material. And after all, he’s soooo cute!

Frank was born on November 23, 1804 to a very prestigious family in New Hampshire. His father was not only a general in the Revolutionary War but also a sheriff and a governor of the state. It was a relatively happy household and Frank thrived, growing tall and brawny.

The Pierces were always staunch Democratic-Republicans, in the vein of Jefferson and Madison, and so Pa Pierce decided that his son, on his way to college, must not be sent to Harvard, bastion for Federalism. Instead Frank attended Bowdoin College in Maine where he mainly drank, partied, and generally did pretty poorly at school. He graduated however and went on to read law, in which he excelled. Correction: his personal appeal and not his logic was a prime factor in the success of his cases. “He displayed a prodigious memory for names and faces, a trait that obviously benefited him in his political career as well…he had a deep, rich voice, again a trait that helped his political career because his audience could actually hear his unamplified voice at political rallies. Most important, he exuded a personal charm, an amiable temperament, and an instinctive human empathy. Pierce directed his arguments to the emotions of the jurors, not to the collective logic, and he usually won” (p. 10). He was admitted to the bar in 1827 and then as he slowly joined political movements, was elected to the state legislature in 1829 when he was only 25 years old.

In 1832, he was elected to the US Congress and by 1834 had married Jane Means Appleton, a girl he met while studying law in Amherst. If opposites attract, then it is understandable how they got together. Jane’s family was staunch Federalists, while Jane herself was very plain, shy and sickly. And on top of all that, she hated Frank’s political career and urged him to retire all the time.

He was elected to the US Senate in 1837 and served steadily until 1841 when he resigned before his requisite six-year term could expire. He stated that it was important to be home with his wife and to supplement their income by a return to his law practice but there may have been other reasons. “That Pierce resigned his Senate seat after spending only four months in the minority [as a Democrat] is telling. He liked to compete only when he held a winning hand. Political defeat was a new and intolerable experience” (p. 25).

Under the Polk administration, Pierce was appointed the US Attorney General of the state of New Hampshire. When the Mexican War began, however, Pierce was ready. In 1847, he was commissioned a brigadier general and was told to recruit regiments for the war which he would then lead to Mexico. He and his regiment joined the Winfield Scott expedition that would take them to Veracruz and ultimately Mexico City.

Frank, though capable of getting his men to General Scott across some hostile Mexican land, proved less than able when actually confronted with a battle. In Pierce’s first military engagement, during the initial charge, the gunfire from the Mexican artillery startled his horse, causing it to buck, pushing Pierce’s groin across the saddle pommel. He briefly lost consciousness. When he fell to the ground, the horse stepped on his knee, leaving him too wounded to continue. He was accused by his men of fainting at the imminent sign of fighting. In the next battle, Pierce twisted the same knee that had just healed. “Again his men marched by as their commander lay on the ground” (p. 29). In his regiment’s final battle, “He lay instead in a sick tent plagued with acute diarrhea” (p. 29). By December of 1847, Frank had had enough and requested a leave of absence. A few months later he resigned his commission and returned to his private life of law and politics.

At his years at home in New Hampshire, Frank played an increasingly large role in the local Democratic machinery so it was no surprise that his name would continue to make the political rounds. As the 1852 election neared, the Democrats met for their presidential convention with Lewis Cass, James Buchanan, and Stephen Douglas garnering most of the votes. However, neither of them could win with a clear majority and so people began bantering Pierce’s name around as a true dark horse candidate. By the forty-ninth ballot, Pierce became the Democratic candidate for president of the United States. “On their [Frank and Jane’s] return trip they were met by a horseback rider with the news the Pierce had been nominated. Pierce seemed stunned. Jane fainted dead away” (p. 43).

With the Whigs in freefall, splitting over their nominee, General Winfield Scott, it was probably not a surprise that Franklin Pierce was elected the 14th President. Democrats around the country unified under his name—a northern man with prosouthern leanings.

Although Frank had won a great victory, the months before the inauguration were not happy ones for him and his family. In January 1853, Frank, Jane and their only child, eleven-year-old Benjamin, were heading back to Concord on a tiny one-car train when the train derailed, slid down an embankment, and landed on its roof. Frank and Jane, who had been sitting together, were bruised and shaken but alive, whereas their son was killed instantly. Benny had been sitting behind them and during the accident, had the back of his head sheared off. “Father and mother had to view this ghastly sight and both were badly shaken” (p. 50). Under these circumstances, Franklin Pierce returned to Washington in an effort to finish his cabinet selections before his inauguration. “Carefully balanced by region, Pierce’s cabinet would prove to be one of the most ethical and effective group of advisers to serve the nation in the nineteenth century” (p. 52).

Things did not look up for Frank Pierce however. One month after his inauguration, William King, the Vice President, died, leaving Pierce vulnerable. “His death [King’s], however, meant that the president pro tempore of the Senate, David R Atchison, stood next in line for the succession, a fateful change in leadership as time would show” (p. 54). Not to mention, Pierce made a dreadful hash of his patronage opportunities. In the mid-1800’s patronage appointments were used to swing votes toward one candidate or another and to reward the party faithful that had worked hard during the election. Instead of rewarding the men that voted for him, Pierce used his patronage to promote both extremes of the Democratic Party into federal jobs. “Rather than relying on the solid men in the center of the party who had stood by the compromise [Compromise of 1850] from the start, the paper’s editors carped, Pierce had favored former Free Soilers from the North and disunionist Southern Rights Democrats with the juiciest plums” (p. 66). This mistake would ultimately aid in ruining Pierce’s presidency. “In hindsight, it is clear that Pierce’s attempts to distribute the loaves and fishes among all elements of the party proved an unmitigated disaster” (p. 67).

But then the biggest bombshell of Pierce’s presidency occurred. We all know that slavery was the powder keg of this era and most political decisions at this time were made with it in mind. To understand the full implications of what happened next, we’ll have to travel back in time to James Monroe’s presidency and recall the temporary band-aid called the Missouri Compromise. When Jefferson had bought the Louisiana Purchase, people were excited but only until the slavery question came up. Where should slavery stop inside this new big piece of land? Monroe was the president that had to deal with the repercussions because by 1820, some of the Louisiana Purchase had reached the requisite population requirement and wished to become states. Now all of sudden, people were upset—Missouri wished to be a slave state but that would throw the balance off in Congress. The band-aid, otherwise known as the Missouri Compromise, said three things: 1. Missouri will enter the Union as a slave state, 2. Maine will enter the Union as a free state (thus keeping the balance), and 3. slavery will stay below the 36º30’ latitude line.

Fast forward to the 1850s. The Compromise of 1850, which had been pushed through Congress by Millard Fillmore, tentatively negated the Missouri Compromise by allowing New Mexico and California (clearly below the 36º30’ line) to enter the Union as free states without giving the slave states anything in return except a harsher Fugitive Slave Law. Thus, when people clamored for the states of Kansas and Nebraska to be settled and then worked into the Union, the shit literally hit the fan. Both Kansas and Nebraska were technically above the Missouri Compromise line and therefore were ineligible to become slave states. However, the slave states simply wanted more states. “What made the Nebraska question so explosive was slavery. All of the area in any proposed territory that would be carved out lay north of the latitude line thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, from which slavery had been ‘forever prohibited’ by the Missouri Compromise of 1820” (p. 73).

Stephen Douglas, Senator from Illinois, was chairman of the Senate Committee on Territories and it fell to him to draft a compromise measure that would successfully please all parties and allow Kansas and Nebraska into the Union. He advocated “popular sovereignty” in the territories in question which basically would allow the populations of both territories to vote on whether they wished to be pro- or anti-slavery. Douglas felt he could offer this because he claimed that the Compromise of 1850 had abrogated the Missouri Compromise and thus the 36º30’ line was immaterial. The Kansas-Nebraska bill was then pushed forward under the assumption that Kansas would become a slave state and Nebraska a free one, which Franklin Pierce ultimately approved. “Pierce signed the bill into law at the end of May 1854, the second biggest mistake of his political career” (p. 82).

The Kansas-Nebraska situation would simply not go away, though. The issues merely got worse and would remain a thorn in Pierce’s side throughout the rest of his tenure as president. Because the Kansas-Nebraska Act was a nebulous idea at best, it is not surprising that the situation soon deteriorated into violence. Kansas was assumed to be a slave state but the problem lay in the fact that no one asked the Kansans what they wanted—and they wanted to be a free state. Thus, when the first elections occurred there in 1855, some fishy business seemed inevitable. “Egged on by former Senator David R Atchison, whose Senate term had ended early that March, hundreds of heavily armed Missourians, aiming to exploit an ambiguity in the original act as to what constituted ‘residency’ in Kansas, poured across the border on election day. These ‘Border Ruffians’ took over polling places in sparsely populated hamlets and cast not only their own ballots but hundreds of additional, wholly fictitious, ballots for proslavery legislative candidates” (p. 91). Pierce had unwittingly sent a proslavery territorial governor who allowed the false election results to stand. The new proslavery legislature of Kansas immediately set up shop in Lecompton and proceeded to hammer out a constitution that made the state a slaveholding one, along with an extremely strict slave code. Conversely, the majority of Kansans had a free-state mentality so they then set up their own government and constitution at Topeka, which Pierce accused of being in opposition to the federally recognized government at Lecompton.

Due to his catastrophic decision-making, Franklin Pierce effectively split his party and basically assured his own retirement at the end of his first term. At the Democratic national convention, Pierce’s own party failed to re-nominate him and instead focused on James Buchanan, the politician from Pennsylvania. Frank, then still young, found himself and Jane back in New Hampshire. Jane, however, was never quite well and so Frank took care of her most of his time. They toured Europe together in an effort to alleviate her suffering but she died in 1863.

Pierce was unhappy with the Civil War, due to his prosouthern leanings, but he never made mention of that fact in public. In fact, he outwardly supported the war effort. After his wife’s death, he purchased a farm in New Hampshire but was increasingly alone and drank heavily. On October 8, 1869, Franklin Pierce died of liver failure.

#13 Millard Fillmore Part 2

Really Cool Stuff about Millard Fillmore
1. His first name is actually his mother’s maiden name.
2. The Antimason Party was the first political party to use a national nominating convention to determine their choice for the office of President of the United States. “ Its [the Antimason Party’s] righteous appeal to masses of voters, its highly organized committee system topped by a state central committee, its state-wide conventions and prompt inauguration of a national nominating convention (the first in America’s history), its conscious effort at propaganda—all represented the new departure” (p. 27).
3. Millard became a major figure in the city of Buffalo and with his prestige, he pressed for social and educational reform. Partly due to his endeavors, Buffalo became the first city in New York state to offer free elementary schools. “In 1839 the common council accepted the recommended policy, and as a result Buffalo claimed the distinction of being the state’s first community to establish free, tax-supported elementary schools” (p. 55).
4. While in Buffalo, Millard teamed up with fellow lawyers, Nathan Hall and Solomon Haven, to establish a very preeminent firm. In fact, this very law firm would produce two Presidents of the United States. “In turn, when one of its students, Grover Cleveland, took his oath of office as President of the United States, its proud members needed no legerdemain to establish the fact that their law office had the unique distinction of giving the nation two of its Presidents” (p. 55-6).
5. Millard Fillmore nearly annexed the Hawaiian Islands due to French aggression against them. “Encouraged by American citizens who filled his [the Hawaiian king’s] ears with advice, the native ruler proposed a secret annexation which would be valid only if French hostility proved true” (p. 311). However, Fillmore, who hated secrecy, shied away from this shady deal. “Fillmore and Webster [Secretary of State] deemed the pear should not be shaken into the American lap under cover of darkness” (p. 312).
6. During Millard’s presidency, he instructed Commodore Perry to open Japan with a show of force. With seven black warships in July of 1853, Perry entered the Bay of Yedo and handed the president’s message to the shogun there. Within weeks a treaty was signed allowing trade between the two nations. “Fillmore’s administration had prepared the ground for sweeping changes in the relations between the East and the West, and his highway to the Orient was taking shape” (p. 317).
7. While Millard toured England after his retirement, the University of Oxford wished to bestow an honorary degree on him. However, Millard declined to accept it, remembering the embarrassment incumbent upon Andrew Jackson when Jackson had accepted a degree from Harvard. “He [Fillmore] was thinking of Major Jack Downing’s description of Jackson receiving a similar honor from Harvard University, on which occasion the old here—according to the humorist—concluded his remarks by shouting in tones of thunder all the Latin he knew: ‘E pluribus unum! Sine qua non! Multum in parvo! Quid pro quo! Ne plus ultra’” (p. 399)! Fillmore explained himself thus. “I had not the advantage of a classical education and no man should, in my judgment, accept a degree he cannot read” (p. 398).

I actually quite liked this rendition of Millard Fillmore. The author has the distinct advantage of unchartered territory in that no one really knows anything much about this guy so everything he writes is groundbreaking information in a sense. Due to his exuberant and sometimes cheesy literary style, you can also tell that the author, Robert Rayback, is genuinely interested in the 13th president. For example, this sentence about Abigail and Millard made me giggle just a little. “In turn, his six feet of sturdy manhood aroused her admiration, while his dignified bearing forecast a promising future” (p. 7). While Millard might not be the most interesting of our presidents, Rayback’s tone gives him all the attention he deserves.

Actually, I should not have been as surprised as I was to discover that this book was less of a biography of Millard Fillmore but more of a history of the Whig Party (and, by extension, the Antimasons and the Know Nothings). Rayback warned me in the prologue that “since knowing the genesis of a book is an aid to the reader, I must admit that curiosity about the Whig Party, rather than the admiration of Fillmore, started me on the research that led to this biography” (p. viii). He then goes on to confess that “my own probing soon suggested that a biography of Millard Fillmore could be used to continue the re-examination of the Whig party” (p. viii).

In another sense, this book is as much a testament to the rabid political life of antebellum New York as anything else. It is an in-depth analysis of the small-town politics of Buffalo and then the sweeping rivalries within the Whig party throughout the entire state. If you ever wanted to know this much about behind-the-scenes political intrigue in a single US state then read on. Not even in the Van Buren book (and he was from New York, remember?) was there this much carefully-prepared information on the scheming minds behind the Whig meltdown of 1852.

Speaking of slavery, I have to admit that I am dying to get to the Civil War. Not because I am a huge fan of it per se, but because the anticipation is simply killing me! In these most recent biographies, slavery is such an issue and tempers are running so high that I can’t help but think ahead to its zenith when we devolve into killing each other and the war begins. I can’t remember what exact instance sparks the war (I know it involves Lincoln and maybe Fort Sumter but that’s really it) but I do know that it’s coming up soon and I’m excited. All this tension is driving me crazy! Can you imagine living during this time and knowing that something, something, had to go down soon?

#13 Millard Fillmore (1800-1874)

“Instead of a self-serving politician, the person who emerged from the sources was a quiet, almost modest, man who had no desire for power and who wanted to do good and make good according to the best conventions of the day. And he succeeded.” Robert Rayback

“Why doesn’t anyone have a copy of Millard Fillmore’s biography!?!” I suspired in exasperation. Of course I immediately had to cut short my melodramatic antics when I realized that the answer to the question was actually in my question. Maybe I should have asked instead whether anyone knew who Millard Fillmore was at all or if, indeed, there even was a Millard Fillmore biography. A good friend of mine incredulously repeated his name and then laughed, “I didn’t even know that he was a president of ours.” So good luck, Vanya, finding something to read on this guy.

I knew the pickings were slim when I became a member of two separate county libraries for this project only to find that neither county contained a biography on this president. Let me qualify that: all the biographies I did find were straight out of the children’s department and of no particular use to me. So I did what I always do when I have trouble finding something: I went straight to the Ultimate Source of All That is Good, Amazon.com, and bought Millard Fillmore: Biography of a President by Robert J Rayback (Newtown, CT: American Political Biography Press, 1992). It gave me a keen sense of pleasure to note that even the author has to advise us as to whom Millard Fillmore really was—a United States President.

And just for your information, I am not going to complain every single time I have to buy a book, although you must admit that it’s extremely frustrating having to do so. Of course, I can then hear you say that if it’s this frustrating why would I choose to read about the presidents in the first place? And I would have to end this imaginary exchange in a huff because I would become embarrassed upon the realization that there is just no rebuttal for that argument.

Whoa. Did I just have an entire conversation with myself? Awkward. Who knew that Millard Fillmore was such a controversial topic?

The book I read was four hundred and thirty pages so just bear with me, okay? Millard was born to an extremely poor family in upstate New York. The Fillmores had just moved south from Vermont presumably for a better life, but unfortunately for them, life did not get better. In fact, it seemed to get worse. “For Nathaniel [Fillmore senior] the birth of Millard was a brief distraction from mounting misfortune” (p. 3). Millard was born on January 7, 1800 amidst extreme economic hardship for his family. His parents had purchased a farm in New York, but along with a severe loss of crops, they discovered that their farm was a phony purchase and they were henceforth evicted. Millard’s father hated farming but with the future looking bleak, he was forced to move the family and assume tenancy of a farm in Sempronius, NY. Millard, you can say, started life as one of the poorest future Presidents in history.

Nathaniel’s hatred of farming would be the unwitting means of moving his son further up the economic ladder though it started humbly enough. At age 14, Nathaniel apprenticed Millard to a cloth-dresser and this allowed the young boy to come into contact with society, of a sort. Millard realized that he was pretty ignorant, not having had any real formal schooling, so he enrolled in a new academy during the slow season. (Does cloth-dressing have a slow season!?!) “For the first time he heard a sentence parsed, for the first time saw a map, and for the first time he began to experience the pleasures of female society” (p. 6). “Female society” devolved into Abigail Powers, the youngest daughter of a reverend, and whom Millard resolved to marry one day.

Just as Millard’s father was the method of furthering the young boy’s entrance into a marketable job, he was also the instrument for ultimately introducing his son to the law profession. In 1819, Nathaniel persuaded the judge whose land he tenanted to take Millard on as a law clerk. The judge agreed and Millard began his long and distinguished career as a lawyer. After serving the judge for four years, Millard quit and moved to the thriving but still new city of Buffalo in an effort to broaden his experience. “Bit by bit he impressed himself on the community. Modulated speech, meticulous dress, serious attitude, carefully selected words, orthodox opinions, decorous bearing, correct manners, temperate habits—all gained the approval of his associates” (p. 12). On February 8, 1826, he was doing well enough to finally marry Abigail Powers.

In that same year an unusual political phenomenon developed—the Anitmason Party. In western New York, an Arch Mason, William Morgan, disappeared after he published a book bearing the secrets of the Masonic order. Public opinion rose against all masons thereafter and a political party sprang up in the meantime, promising the demise of the Masons. Millard jumped on the bandwagon and by 1828, he was voted to the state assembly on the Antimason ticket. “He shed his protective cocoon of anonymity and with increasing frequency took the floor of the assembly” (p.34). Through his passionate efforts for the Antimason cause, he was then elected to Congress.

It makes sense to me that the Antimason Party was doomed to be short-lived. The furor over the Masons’ secret order very soon was eclipsed by the Panic of 1837 and while Millard continued to work as a lawyer in Buffalo during the off season, he began to move into the Whig Party camp. Through his zeal, he was able to help get William Henry Harrison elected in the 1840 campaign and he was sent to Congress yet again, but this time as a Whig. He lost the 1841 Speaker of the House election but he was instead sent to assume leadership of the very powerful Ways and Means Committee.

In 1842, he retired from Congress for local Whig reasons but, in his heart he wanted the Vice Presidential nomination. “He reasoned that he could do more good during the next two years back in New York, where political fences were in need of much repair, than to continue serving in Congress” (p. 146). While he was waiting for the next presidential election, he was prevailed upon by the local Whigs to run for Governor of the state of New York. He lost but was given the important job of comptroller for the state, which also was a vital position because it dealt with the New York’s finances. He did not receive the nomination for vice president in 1844.

However, with the election of 1848 right around the corner and Zachary Taylor’s campaign picking up speed, the Whigs realized that the vice president really needed to come from the North (since Taylor was of the West). Millard was then nominated as the vice presidential candidate to run on the Whig ticket. When Taylor won the presidency, Millard found himself returning to Washington and to Congress but this time as Vice President and head of the Senate.

Unfortunately, it was Millard being sent to Washington that eventually split the Whig party and ultimately destroyed it. While Fillmore was away, William Seward, a New York politician, and Thurlow Weed, a Whig newspaper editor, combined to do everything in their power to thwart Millard’s influence in the state, causing a very bitter intrapolitical rivalry. Weed and Seward caused Fillmore’s political recommendations to be blocked and they even went so far as to cozy up to Zachary Taylor’s ear. These issues were to cause great distress in the Whig ranks.

All these machinations were moot, however, when, in 1850, Taylor died and the office of President of the United States felll upon Millard Fillmore. “Most Presidents have four months before taking office to form their policies. He [Millard] had one night. He was fully aware of the taut condition of the bonds of the union. No President has ever taken office in the face of such impending disaster” (p. 240). The impending disaster referred to here was the future Compromise of 1850. Taylor had died amidst huge political upheaval as California and New Mexico wanted to enter the Union as free states and the South was simply livid over it. The Compromise of 1850, which was actually four or five separate bills, was only voted into law because Millard Fillmore placed his entire presidential force behind it. The bills established Texas’ boundary with New Mexico, California and New Mexico would be admitted to the Union as free states, the slave trade was abolished in the district of Columbia, and there were new, harsher measures affixed to the Fugitive Slave Law. And, of course, no one was happy with it.

Other than the overwhelming suffocation of the slavery issue during his presidency, Millard’s presidency was distinguished by a laidback, gentlemanly feel. He was a conservative at heart and dealt with the various situations in that light. “His foreign policy was simplicity itself: promote, by honorable means only, every legitimate interest of Americans. This meant that bellicose action or unwonted greed on the part of either foreigners or Americans must be restrained. He cared neither to flaunt the power of America nor to test the strength of others. And when his term of office was over, his record would be remarkably clear of bluff, bombast, or aggression” (p. 301.) He was not a huge proponent of “manifest destiny” but he would not allow foreign powers to come tramping in either.

The slow schism that developed in the Whig Party grew ever broader as the election of 1852 grew nearer. Millard wished to retire but his Whig cronies demanded that he keep his hat in the race because the Southern Whigs trusted him. However, behind Fillmore’s back, Weed and Seward were promoting the presidency of General Willard Scott and between them, they split the party right down the center. Scott eventually won the nomination after a long and emotion-filled convention, but with Franklin Pierce becoming the next president, the Whigs would soon break up into other political parties.

It was unfortunate that Abigail Fillmore died in 1853 just as Millard began his long retirement from office, thereby making his time at home worse than it should have been (after being abandoned by his own political party). Also, the office of President did not pay very well and so Millard was forced to resume his law profession afterwards just to keep his financial situation stable.

However, politics would simply not go away and Millard found himself in the thick of things as usual. “In his eyes the preservation of the Union had become the highest goal of statesmanship” (p. 386). Because he felt this way, Millard decided to go on an extended tour of the Union promoting unity. It was during this tour that his young daughter, only 22 years old, died suddenly.

In grief, Fillmore traveled throughout Europe only to return to the United States to join yet another political party, the Know Nothings. The Know Nothings were a random group of people (some were old Whig adherents) that were anti-immigrants, anti-Catholics, and anti-party incumbents and they nominated Millard Fillmore as their 1856 presidential nominee.

Millard did not win the election but life was not over. In 1858, he married a wealthy widow, Mrs. Caroline C McIntosh, which took care of his financial situation, and allowed him to devote even more time, now that the Civil War had begun, to effecting internecine peace. “With armed conflict at hand Fillmore made restoration of the Union his sole war aim” (p. 423). He supported the war from the northern side and even put together the Union Continentals, a “company in the home guard—that portion of the New York militia composed of mean too old to be subject to the call by the federal government but prepared to act in a local emergency” (p. 424).

It was unfortunate for Millard Fillmore that his remarkable career did not end right there because his sterling reputation was eventually tarnished by his criticism directed to the Republican Party and Lincoln in particular. The media honed in on this seeming “treason’ by the ex-President and for the rest of his years, Millard would be branded a traitor.

After the war was over, Millard was placed on the board of directors for the newly built University of Buffalo medical school and he was chairman for the local Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. “Upon his personal world he could smile benignly. It had been kind to him and generous with its material and spiritual wealth. The years passed in unhurried, comfortable living” (p. 443). On the morning of February 13, 1874, Millard was shaving when his hand went numb, soon followed by the left side of his face. This paralysis occurred again two weeks later and on March 8th, he died.

#12 Zachary Taylor Part 2

Really Cool Stuff about Zachary Taylor
1. After the victory of Fort Harrison, Taylor was awarded the first ever brevet in American history. “The most remarkable of Taylor’s honors, however, came from President James Madison himself. On October 31, 1812, the Intelligencer announced that Captain Zachary Taylor had been awarded the rank of brevet major. It was the first brevet ever awarded in United States history.” (p. 11).
2. A young lieutenant in the Second Dragoons, Jefferson Davis, fell deeply in love with Zachary Taylor’s eighteen-year-old daughter, Sarah. Taylor, however, had a marked antipathy for Jefferson, vowing that no daughter of his would ever marry into the military. In an effort to assuage his prospective father-in-law, Jefferson Davis resigned from the army a few years later but Taylor’s hatred had not abated. Sarah eventually eloped with Davis on June 30, 1835. “There was, unfortunately, to be no happy ending. Leaving Louisville after a large family wedding, the newlyweds took a steamer down the Mississippi to visit Davis’ elder brother, Joseph. There, in early August, both Sarah and Jefferson contracted malaria, and soon Sarah died. Death came suddenly and unexpectedly” (p. 25). Davis would marry again years later and also reenter the army. He would fight in the Mexican War under General Taylor and they would eventually become great friends.
3. At one point, Taylor commanded Fort Gibson, Oklahoma, which was the famous last stop of the “Trail of Tears.”
4. Even Taylor’s horse was famous. His name was Old Whitey and when Taylor died, it was saddled with a pair of the General’s boots turned backwards in the stirrups. Old Whitey followed the casket all the way to the cemetery.
5. During the Mexican War, Taylor unveiled new weapons technology which was called flying artillery. “Whereas the Mexican artillery, lacking explosive projectiles, bounced its iron balls on the ground in front of the lines, Taylor’s artillery tore holes in the Mexican ranks” (p. 48). This new weapon would give the Americans a decided advantage in the war and eventually lead to victory in Mexico.
6. Brownsville, TX was named during the Mexican War. “On entering Fort Texas, he [Taylor] was happy to learn that casualties among the garrison were light. He was saddened, however, to learn that the commander, Jacob Brown, had been killed on the morning of May 5. Taylor renamed the bastion Fort Brown. Its remnants still remain in the town that bears its name, Browsville” (p. 51).
7. During the Mexican War, the Texas Rangers gained fame. “Taylor had attained the services of the Second Regiment of Texas Mounted Volunteers, known more familiarly as the Texas Rangers” (p. 57).
8. It was during Taylor’s presidency that a seventh cabinet position would be added: Secretary of the Interior.
9. Taylor coined the term “First Lady” upon the death of Dolley Madison in 1849. “It was at Mrs. Madison’s funeral that Taylor coined a new term for the American lexicon: ‘First Lady’” (p. 97).
10. On July 4, 1850, mere days before his death, Taylor attended a ceremony which laid the cornerstone for the future Washington Monument.

This book was a very concise account of Zachary Taylor’s life and a relatively easy read. I mean, there were only 140 pages for goodness sake but I felt that all the pertinent information was included. I also felt that I was given a good idea of what Taylor was like as a down-to-earth general quite literally stumbling into the highest office in the land. If I look at Taylor in today’s light, I can’t quite imagine him as our president but to the hero of the Mexican War there was no other alternative.

I also have to admit something: I winced every time I had to use the word “Mexicans” and I realized that I have been brainwashed. Even though we fought a war against the Mexicans, as a people, I found myself wanted to mitigate that word and write “Mexican-Americans” or something less offensive. It’s amazing how PC and supersensitive I am—how my modern-day United States has let me know that I must be careful. Interesting.

As I’ve read a number of books about this era, I’ve noticed that the historians are all enticed by one giant question: What if Zachary Taylor had lived? More than one author has mentioned this one particular question in relation to the causality of the Civil War. For instance, if Taylor had lived, would there have been a Civil War at all? Or if he had lived would the Civil War have been postponed? While there hasn’t been total agreement on this, most historians do agree on one point—that if Taylor had lived, Franklin Pierce would never have been president. Not having read about Pierce yet I can’t offer any opinion but I have to admit that my curiosity is piqued. Check out this statement by John Eisenhower “At the very least, had Taylor lived and been reelected, as seems likely, the country would have been spared the dismal presidency of Franklin Pierce, and history could well have been different” (p. 137). It’s suppositions like that that make reading history exciting. With most presidential pundits treating Pierce like a total zero, I looking forward to plowing through Millard just to get to the good stuff.

#12: Zachary Taylor (1784-1850)

Zachary Taylor, bless his heart, was actually an easy library find. Meaning I went to one library and there he was, tucked away between the heavy hitters, Andrew Jackson and Abraham Lincoln, so I felt pity and took him home with me.

I know a little about him from the Polk bio but really have no clue as to who, besides a general and a president, Zachary Taylor was. To discover more about him, I turned to Zachary Taylor: The American Presidents Series by John D Eisenhower (New York: Times Books,2008) and was able to satisfy my curiosity on this point.

Zachary Taylor was born on November 24, 1784 in Orange County, Virginia to a well-to-do family. His father had a served as an officer in the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War and as a reward for this service, he was granted a parcel of land near Louisville, Kentucky. When Zach was only 18 months old, Mr. Taylor Sr moved the entire family out to his new land on the edge of the frontier. “As a result, Zachary grew up in an atmosphere where danger was accepted” (p. 2). Growing up, Zachary had little education but became a competent farmer and businessman like his father.

In 1808, at the age of 23, Taylor joined the army as a first lieutenant where he spent some time in New Orleans. Soon though he was granted leave of absence for his marriage to Margaret Mackall Smith on June 21, 1810.

Returning to active duty, he was sent north to face the Indians. However, due to a court martial in which Taylor had to testify in Baltimore, he missed the very crucial Battle of Tippecanoe and all the inherent prestige. The United States soon was entrenched in the War of 1812 and yet Taylor only played a minor role. He won a victory at Fort Harrison and then was later sent on to fight the Indians on the Mississippi River. “Though Taylor was probably unaware of it, his success at Fort Harrison represented the first victory attained by the American armed forces since the outset of the war the previous June” (p. 11). All these years in the army though could not save his job when the war ended. Taylor was demoted, not through any fault of his own but simply due to the decrease in the size of the army, and instead of living with a lesser rank, he retired to his plantation in Louisville.

Life as a gentleman planter was decidedly not the life for Zachary Taylor. “Cheery words such as those soon began to fade, however, as the routine life of a gentleman farmer wore thin” (p. 17). Filled with ennui, Taylor returned to the army in May 1816 as a full major. By 1819, he was promoted to lieutenant colonel and was even able to meet the current President of the United States, James Monroe, on his tour of the West. Tragedy followed when a terrible outbreak of malaria hit and Taylor’s three-year-old daughter, Octavia, died while Margaret, Taylor’s wife, stayed ill for months.

The next decade was characterized mainly by Taylor marking-time in the army. “The decade between 1820 and 1830 saw Taylor performing standard duty for the army on the frontier” (p. 19). In 1832, Taylor was ordered to serve in the Black Hawk War, which pitted ever encroaching American frontiersmen against the beleaguered, yet angry Indians near the Mississippi River. A few years later, in 1836, Taylor was promoted again; this time to full colonel.

1837 was a big year because it meant that Taylor, along with being sent to Florida in response to the 2nd Seminole War, was promoted to brevet brigadier general and on an unrelated basis, nicknamed “Old Rough and Ready” by his men. Taylor was renowned for sharing every experience his men did and they respected him for it—thus the nickname.

The 2nd Seminole War, though, was not an unparalleled success for Taylor bu neither had it been for any other American commander. “The Second Seminole War was one of the least noted and yet costliest and most frustrating ‘wars’ the United States Army ever fought against the various Native American tribes. One general after another failed to bring the Seminoles to the knees. Careers would have been shattered had not all the other prominent generals encountered failure as well” (p. 25).

The election of 1844 ushered James K Polk into the highest office in the land, along with his heavy agenda of acquiring Texas and California from the Mexicans. He had tried to purchase Texas from Mexico but they simply weren’t having it and it looked like war was the only option. In anticipation of any Mexican funny business along the border, Polk sent a portion of the army under Taylor to Corpus Christi. “The selection of Corpus Christi as the place for Taylor’s army was fraught with political significance. With Texas joining the Union a foregone conclusion, the question still remained as to the boundary between Texas and Mexico. The Mexicans contended that the boundary ran along the Nueces River; the Texans, however, claimed an additional strip of land 150 miles wide, placing the border on the Rio Grande” (p. 31-32). Needless to say, Corpus Christi was on the Rio Grande and therefore inside the disputed territory.

After setting up an effective beachhead there and making sure his supply lines were clear, Taylor was able to move his army further inland, closer to Matamoros. Secretary of War, William Marcy, ordered this move and Taylor was happy to comply. “Marcy’s order admonished Taylor not to initiate hostilities with the Mexicans unnecessarily, but it allowed him to judge for himself if the Mexicans had done so” (p. 36). Inevitably, the Mexicans did initiate hostilities and the war officially began. A Mexican cavalry detachment crossed the river and ambushed Taylor’s advance guard. Taylor sent a message to Washington that said “Hostilities may now be considered as commenced” (p. 44). A declaration of war ensued from an obliging Congress.

The Battle of Palo Alto, May 8th 1846, was not much of a fight, per se, as it was a psychological contest…and we won it. Taylor’s tactics so got into the head of the Mexican general, Arista, that Arista ordered a retreat even though neither side was a decisive winner. “Despite the lack of decisive maneuver, the battle of May 8 had been more important than either side realized. Most of the results were psychological” (p. 48). It was only a matter of time for Taylor to comprehend that now was the moment to strike and he immediately made his plans to invade Mexico. “His general plan was simple. First, he would cross the Rio Grande and occupy Matamoros; then he would move on to Monterrey, the capital of the state of Nuevo Leon, due west of Matamoros” (p. 53-4). Taylor had no problem wrapping up Matamoros and soon had moved on to bigger game—Monterrey. Upon reaching that city, Taylor saw that the enemy was ready for them and had prepared their best defense but he knew what to do and over five solid days of fighting, Taylor eked out the victory and the city was his.

Back in Washington, Polk was livid. He had specifically sent word to Taylor not to invade; that his would be a defensive posture. Raging inwardly, he instead found that he had to promote Taylor to the rank of major general. Zachary Taylor had become a national hero and the nation wanted him recognized.

The war was not yet over for Taylor however. It was decided that General-in-Chief of the Army, Winfield Scott, would leave on an overseas expedition to take the war to the heart of Mexico. Landing at Veracruz, Scott won a brilliant victory there and then, commandeering most of Taylor’s seasoned men, he moved on to conquer Mexico City itself. Taylor was left with fewer men than ever before and beset by the Mexican army coming up from the rear. He took his stand at Buena Vista but was almost immediately hard pressed. “’General,” he [Wool] said, “we are whipped.’ Taylor was unusually sharp. ‘That is for me to determine,’ he snapped. He then sent the Mississippi Rifles forward to stem the flow of retreating Americans—which it did—and then settled into his customary position for directing a battle, sidesaddle on Old Whitey, chawing on a plug of tobacco” (p. 69-70). Eventually, Taylor had the battle under control and soon the Mexicans were in a rout. “That attack provided grist for the mill of Taylor’s reputation as a cool, imperturbable commander” (p. 70).

The war was pretty much over but it would take nearly a year for the Mexican and United States governments to sign a practical treaty. While the political battles were raging, Taylor took leave and went home. It was there that several prominent Whigs found him and led him to understand that he was in a very good position for a presidential campaign. His reputation couldn’t be higher and what’s more, he had no political baggage (in comparison to other nominees). After taking his sweet time in consideration, Taylor allowed his name to be offered up as the Whig nominee for the 1848 presidential election. He found himself running against Lewis Cass, the Democratic candidate, and Martin Van Buren, the new Free Soil Party candidate. Old Zach won in a very tight race.

With Millard Fillmore as his vice president, Old Rough and Ready was the 12th President of the United States. In the summer of 1849, he took a tour of the Northeast but became violently ill. He was so sick, in fact, that his wife was summoned away from the White House. While he eventually recovered, Taylor’s illness only foreshadowed what was to come.

The major issues of Taylor’s presidency began first and foremost with slavery of course. Taylor did not particularly care for the institution although he did use it. “A slaveholder himself, who intended for his own economic reasons to keep his property, he was personally opposed to the institution in principle. He would not disrupt the Union by trying to abolish slavery in states where it already existed, but he would not allow its expansion into the new territories” (p. 99). And therein lay the problem. For in this same year, men found gold in California and within months, California had the requisite number of people to apply for statehood. Not only that but when Polk signed the peace treaty with Mexico, the US received New Mexico as well and they also wanted to become a state. Both of these states wished to be admitted as free states which caused the Southern states to scream in protest.

And believe or not, the US was still having problems with Great Britain. After whipping them twice in the last fifty years, you would think that England would leave us alone but there they were with a commercial stranglehold over the entire Caribbean. Not to mention, Britain wanted a canal built in Panama, under their direction and ownership, and so they simply took over all the land at the entrance and the exit of the canal route, displacing the residents. (This area was called the Mosquito Coast, named after the Indian inhabitants, Miskitos). There was so much rangling going on over this area and about the Caribbean in general that the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty was eventually signed, which basically stated that neither Britain nor the US would maintain any canal in the Western Hemisphere.

With death right around the corner for Old Zach, the Galphin scandal hit his cabinet and impugned his presidency with a furor. Back when Georgia was an English colony a certain Mr. Galphin was owed some money by the British government. However, the Revolutionary War intervened and so the state of Georgia pledged to redeem the amount he was owed. Unfortunately the state of Georgia was now completely broke and could not pay immediately. The situation was never resolved. The case finally came before Zachary Taylor’s cabinet and it was discovered that Galpin family was owed $191,352.89! The Secretary of the Treasury received this claim and consulted with the Attorney General who approved the payment. The problem would have been settled there except for the fact that the Galphin lawyer who was owed half the amount paid was none other than the Secretary of War George Crawford. People were irate over this situation as it looked like Taylor and his cabinet aided a fellow cabinet member into acquiring an enormous sum. The public outcry was so great that President Taylor was censured by Congress over the matter.

It could be that the stress of the situation was the cause of Taylor’s immediate decline thereafter. He had contracted some sort of infection and even though his four physicians dosed him with everything they could, including calomel and quinine, his condition worsened. On July 9, 1850, Zachary Taylor died.

#11: James K Polk Part 2

Really Cool Stuff about James K Polk
1. James was never baptized as a baby. Due to very high infant mortality rates, most children of this time were baptized in the church, just in case. However, due to a misunderstanding between James’ father and the pastor, Polk would miss out on this crucial ceremony. “The moment came when the Reverend James Wallis, a stern and dogmatic pastor, expected the child’s parents to affirm their Christian faith. Sam [Polk senior] balked. He would make no such avowal. Whereupon Pastor Wallis also balked; no parental commitment to the Christian faith, no baptism, he decreed. It was not until fifty-three years later, on his deathbed, that James K Polk was christened by a Methodist minister” (p. 12).
2. He was one of the few presidents to take a case all the way to the Supreme Court. “Seven lawyers who became presidents are known to have taken cases all the way to the US Supreme Court, and Polk is one of them. In January, 1827 the Court agreed with the argument of Polk and his co-counsel in the case Williams vs Norris” (p. 24).
3. Polk served consistently as a Congressman and was reelected seven times in a row!
4. During the mudslinging portion of the 1844 presidential campaign, Whig newspapers were absolutely at a loss with Polk due to his squeaky-clean reputation. “The Whigs had a tough time nailing Polk with the sort of personal dirt that was editorial grist for every presidential election mill. He had led an exemplary married life and was never known to carouse or gamble. He drank in moderation and could only have been accused, as Houston once said, of an addiction to water. He showed up at church with Sarah too often to be attacked as an unbaptized non-Christian” (p. 94-5). Because there was simply nothing wrong to blame on him, the Whigs turned to other avenues of research. “Whigs searched the Polk family tree for a flaw and came up with a charge that his grandfather Ezekiel had been a Tory sympathizer during the Revolutionary War” (p. 95). It turns out though that Ezekiel had merely struck up a bargain with the local Tories so that they would not burn his house. In reality, Polk’s grandfather was an ardent revolutionary and James proved it several times over through interviews and primary source accounts.
5. Polk was the first dark horse candidate in US history. “A small clique of Tennesseans, however, had devised a scheme that would launch the nation’s first ‘dark horse’ presidential candidate” (p. 80).
6. Polk had an almost paranoid obsession with Whigs and Federalists. If a politician subscribed to either political party, Polk would vehemently, and irrationally, hate him to the end of his days. Even though Generals Taylor and Scott were winning victory after victory during the Mexican War, Polk always distrusted them because they were Whigs and several times considered getting rid of them. “While their military credentials were outstanding, their courage unquestioned, and their patriotism admirable, they were both Whigs—and both had political aspirations…Both generals won repeated victories over the Mexican army in the field, but back in Washington, jumping to conclusions, Polk judged them harshly” (p. 133).
7. FYI: I looked up ‘manifest destiny’ separately because I was curious as to where that term came from. The Polk biographer uses it quite a bit and like I mentioned earlier, I associate that phrase with Polk’s presidency. So according to that ultimate information source, Wikipedia, the term ‘manifest destiny’ was used by John O’Sullivan in an 1845 article calling for the annexation of Texas. Just so you know.
8. PPS: I have to include this quote about Andrew Jackson and I wish that I had it during my Jackson bio. It sums him up so nicely. “As a young man, Jackson acted as if the laws of political gravity did not apply to him. Even as he served as Tennessee’s first congressman, one of its early US senators, and a member of the highest court of the state, his exaggerated sense of moral outrage, his burning ambition, and his violent temper led to repeated embarrassing conflicts: dueling, street fighting, gambling disputes, verbal attacks on critics, and explosive tantrums” (p. 27).

As biographies go, this one was pretty vanilla. Although I don’t think that this was the fault of the biographer so much as a faithful account of Polk’s personality. Let’s face it: James K wasn’t a spectacular personage and as such, Seigenthaler only has so much to work with here. However, I didn’t like the fact that Polk gets lost in his own biography. Even though Polk was overshadowed by Andrew Jackson throughout most of his political career, he was still a visible political heavy hitter at the time and should not be overlooked. Seigenthaler goes into great depth during the Jackson and Van Buren presidencies but giving more emphasis to Jackson and Van Buren, rather than his man, Polk—the hero of the piece. At one point I made this note: “history of Polk or Jackson!?!” Poor Polk gets shunted to the side until its time for him to shine front and center and that hurt his biography a bit.

I noticed two pretty remarkable things about Polk as I was reading through his bio. The first one was that it is amazing, especially with 150 years worth of hindsight, that there is no dirt on this guy. Polk is the quintessential Politician’s Dream-Come-True due to his virtually spotless existence. I actually laughed out loud when I read about the Whigs and their frantic search for anything-anything at all-that would lead to some sensational breaking news on Polk. And I know that there had to be some utter disbelief in the Whig ranks. I mean, who on earth is that good!?! For all you cynics out there: Hear ye, Hear ye…we have had a president with a squeaky clean past and lived to tell the tale.

The second remarkable thing about Polk is that he said what he would do as president and, get this, he actually did it. Every single thing. Come on now—you’re not impressed by this? We sit here in 2010 and complain about all the broken promises littering this good country by our presidents and yet here was a man who had an agenda and went through with it. He said that he was going to fix the tariff, create an independent treasury, and nab California and Texas and by God, he did! Not only that but he swore that he would only run for one term and he did that too. Goodness. I have to say that I’m seriously awed, Mr. Polk.

#11 James K Polk (1795-1849)

“Still this leader, so lacking in imagination, curiosity, and creativity, dramatically transformed the character and geography of the country.” Gary May

Hmmm…what do I remember about Polk. Honestly, the only thing that pops into my head about him is the term “manifest destiny.” If you recall from high school American history, “manifest destiny” was the excuse that we, as Americans, used to gobble up the land between the oceans with nary a care to who actually owned it. Our presidents, beginning with Jefferson, believed that it was divine providence for the United States to eventually be in possession of all the rightful territory spanning betwixt the two shores and this belief affected our foreign policy right from the start. Jefferson used a like argument when he signed the Louisiana Purchase, Monroe believed in it and mentioned it subtly through the Monroe Doctrine, and finally Polk would seal the deal, so to speak.

Although it is rather remarkable that I remember this much about our 11th president, I have to admit that I don’t know anything else. Who was James K Polk and what was he like? What does the ‘k’ stand for anyway? How can I find out? Ta-da! I went right to my local library and found The American Presidents Series waiting for me. They recommended that I read John Seigenthaler’s book called James K. Polk (New York: Times Books, 2003) if I wanted to know more about this misunderstood gentleman. I checked it out and so here we are…

Before I get started on James K Polk, let me sate your curiosity and tell you that the ‘k’ stands for Knox. Mystery solved. Sigh.

“Where did they come from, the conflicted character traits that combined to make James K Polk less than a natural leader, yet justifiably judged among presidents of great achievement” (p. 10)? This quote is the beginning of chapter one and is an interesting segue into the quixotic man behind the presidency. James was born in Charlotte in 1795 to an odd family torn between Presbyterian zeal and Democratic fanaticism. There was an ongoing rivalry between James’ grandfather, Ezekiel, and the local pastor which eventually caused a conflict in the young James.

James was a very sickly, wan child and struggled through the move of the family from North Carolina to frontier Tennessee. “In childhood he was slightly built, emaciated, and without much strength or energy” (p. 18). Soon the young boy was in so much pain that he was taken to several famous doctors of the time for a diagnosis. What they found was not good for that time period: urinary stones. James had to undergo primitive surgery (the anesthesia was whiskey) and even then he was left sterile for the rest of this life. “Considering the crude methodology involved, the probable tearing of ejaculatory ducts, tissue, nerves, and arteries as the gorget penetrated the prostrate, there can be little doubt that the operation left he unable to father a child” (p.20).

Because of his weak state, James was not to follow in the family business but was sent to school and formally educated. For college, he attended the University of Chapel Hill and became essentially the valedictorian. He moved back to Nashville after graduation and proceeded to study law under the famous Tennessee lawyer, Felix Grundy. In 1820, Polk passed the bar exam, joined the Masons, and signed up with the local militia. Polk actually enjoyed practicing law but when the Panic of 1819 hit, his path turned toward the political arena when he became clerk for the state senate. In 1822, he won a seat in the Tennessee legislature. On New Years Day in 1824, Polk married Sarah Childress, who was the little sister of one of Polk’s friends from college. “Sarah’s personality—outgoing, vivacious, and witty—was a natural complement to her husband’s formal reserve” (p. 26).

In politics, Polk quickly aligned himself with the growing force of Jacksonian democracy. He became, in effect, Jackson’s protégé and was a rigid adherent to Jackson’s political principles. After the “corrupt bargain” of the 1824 election between JQA and Henry Clay, Polk rode the wave of moral outrage all the way to the House of Representatives where he continued to be instrumental in promoting Jackson’s hopes for the presidency. He upheld Jackson’s ideals and was quite pleased when, in 1828, Andrew Jackson became the 7th President of the United States.

Polk’s first taste of failure came in 1834 when he lost the election to become Speaker of the House which merely prodded him to do better next time. However, his defeat was short-lived when he won the job as Speaker the very next year and continued to win until he retired in 1839. During his years as Speaker of the House, things were going crazy around the country. He had to deal with the Panic of 1837 and Van Buren’s tactics to ease the economic burden through the creation of an independent Treasury department. Slavery was also blossoming into a monumental issue and it was under Polk’s reign as Speaker that the ‘gag resolution’ was passed, effectively ending all mention of slavery/abolition in the House. “His present position, presiding over a divided House, fronting for an administration whose popularity was damaged by a hurting economy, was not an advantage” (p. 64).

This being the case, Polk resigned from Congress and headed back to Tennessee to run for governor of the state. “The quintessential micromanager, he personally laid out his campaign strategy” (p. 64). Apparently the micromanager knew what he was doing because Polk barely eked out a ‘W’. “Polk’s inaugural was equally impressive, attended by reinvigorated Democrats, Old Hickory himself making the trip from the Hermitage to pay tribute to his young protégé” (p. 65).

Things get blacker from here, I’m afraid. With an eye to the next presidential election, Polk wished to be considered as the vice presidential candidate and he was in a strong position to do so considering his political resume. But after two years as an indifferent governor, Polk lost the next election and effectively nullified his chances to join Van Buren on the Democratic ticket for the 1844 election. Even though he was at a loose end, Polk declined to be Tyler’s Secretary of the Navy, not wishing to be associated with that gentleman’s cabinet.

Just like that, though, fortune smiled upon James K Polk. At the Democratic convention held in Baltimore, MD, the delegates there were unsure of who to nominate. Early on, a two-thirds rule was passed which stated that any nominee must have two-thirds of the vote instead of a simple majority. Under this rule, Van Buren could never get the 2/3s majority and no other nominee could either. But in the final roll call, after Polk’s name was bandied about by the delegates, he won the nomination from the Democratic Party for the 1844 election. “The momentum swept the assembly, and within minutes a hostile crowd was seized by mass euphoria, as one speech after another reminded them of the virtues of this loyal party man from Tennessee. Polk was unanimously acclaimed the nominee” (p. 84). There must have been a reason that Polk’s nickname was Young Hickory.

Henry Clay was the Whig nominee and the 1844 campaign for president began. Slavery was one of the issues plaguing the presidential race but since both Polk and Clay owned and used slaves so it became a platform that neither could use. “Polk was acculturated by a lifelong reliance on slave labor in a racist agrarian society” (p. 85). In the end, the campaign came down to character issues and some good old-fashioned mudslinging. Clay was a noted gambler and had lost huge sums of money in the past. Not to mention, he was emotional and would go into prolonged rages. Polk, on the other hand, always kept his cool and never did the wrong thing. It also aided Polk’s campaign when he announced that, if elected, he would serve only one term as president. “The candidate’s first major decision was crucial: to declare for a one-term presidency and convince them all that he meant it” (p. 92). As it was, Polk won in a very tight race and became the 11th President of the United States of America.

It appeared right away that there was a certain freedom to being a one-term president and knowing it in advance. “Now, elected and never intending to run again, he enunciated his administration’s commitment to economic justice as it related to this divisive issue [the tariff]” (p. 113). Right off the bat, Polk comes out with the truth of his presidential agenda and it differed from what he had intimated from pre-election times.

What is truly remarkable about Polk’s presidency is that he pretty much did what he said he was going to do. We already know that he was a micromanager so it should be no surprise that upon arriving at the White House, Polk had four items that he wished to see accomplished during his tenure: lowering the tariff, establishing an independent treasury, acquiring all of Oregon, and getting California from Mexico. Immediately, he worked out the tariff to his exacting standards and through a tight battle in Congress, it passed. He then turned his attention to the resurrection of Van Buren’s idea for a treasury department that would be a part of the government but not run by private interests. Polk pushed through his idea for a constitutional treasury which also passed by a pretty large margin.

From these domestic issues, he was forced to take a look at the bigger picture. Polk knew what he wanted in his foreign policy plan and knew how he wanted to get it, so he chose James Buchanan as his weak pseudo-Secretary of State. In reality, Polk was the Secretary of State and made Buchanan go along with whatever he wanted even though the two men quarreled regularly. First up was the issue of Oregon. “On his first day as president, Polk laid a claim on the vast and boundless territory of the great Northwest” (p. 122). Using the policy of ‘manifest destiny,’ Polk told Great Britain that it was time to settle the boundary between Canada and the United States. The British hemmed and hawed but with backing from the Congress and especially the politicians who wanted the boundary set at latitude fifty-four forty, Polk was able to stand firm. The resulting Oregon Treaty was soon signed and approved by the Senate. “The Oregon Territory—which would make up all of Washington and Oregon and parts of Wyoming and Idaho—belonged to the United States. Another of Polk’s major goals had been achieved” (p. 128).

Finally there was the war with Mexico. John Tyler signed into law the annexation of Texas but it would take till December of 1845 for it to become a state. Mexico was livid about this turn of events, stating that Texas belonged to them and did not have the right to make separate treaties with foreign countries. Polk didn’t care about that (he wanted Texas too badly) so he instructed General Zachary Taylor (Old Rough and Ready) to take a portion of the army to Corpus Christi to be ready for an attack by the Mexicans. The war began in April of 1846 when a group of Mexicans ambushed an advanced guard of General Taylor, leading that General to begin hostilities against Mexico. Taylor then led his troops across the Rio Grande, gaining huge victories at Monterrey and Buena Vista.

Santa Anna, the deposed military dictator, won his way through the naval blockade in the Caribbean and soon set about harrying the US troops. General Winfield Scott, General-in-Chief of the Army, was slated to land and assault Veracruz to occupy the Mexicans on a second military front. The operation was successful, ending in a triumphal entry of General Scott into Mexico City itself in September 1847. Polk assumed that conquering the capital city would give the Mexicans the excuse to instantly conclude a treaty. This was an incorrect assumption however and it took over a year for Polk’s envoy to work out a compromise. In return for California, New Mexico, and the Rio Grande boundary of Texas, the US repudiated Mexico’s over $3 million worth of debts and agreed to pay $15 million for the new territory. Polk finally realized his dream of possessing California when the treaty ending the war was signed and ratified.

Ironically, the war, while being the culmination of Polk’s presidential plan, was also the Achilles heel of the administration and would be used to promote a Whig into office. “Condemnation of the war robbed Polk of the opportunity to be judged more kindly by history. The conflict took its toll on the nation—and on the president. The combined attacks, often exaggerated, from the Whigs and those who condemned the war, charged him with an exercise in imperialist militarism—crushing an impotent army and raping a helpless land” (p. 152).

Finishing the war and enduring the constant criticism from the Whigs and the general population, Polk aged early. By the time that Zachary Taylor was voted in as the next President of the United States, Polk, upon return to Nashville, was decidedly ill and wan. He died six weeks later.