#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.

#10 John Tyler Part 2

“The mild-mannered gentleman from Virginia, scorned by his contemporaries, neglected by today’s historians, and forgotten by his countrymen, deserves to be remembered and reexamined. There is much to be learned from his tumultuous presidency” (p. 151).

Really Cool Stuff about John Tyler
1. I have already mentioned that Tyler deserves recognition due to the fact that he was the very first vice president to assume the presidency after the death of the incumbent. Because the Constitution was purposefully ambiguous about the chain of power should something happen to the President, no one was really sure if the vice president became President in fact or only was ‘acting’ president until another election could be held. John Tyler believed that the Constitution gave him the right to assume the full powers of the presidency and this allowed him to take over as president in an as easy and as painless a manner as possible. In the future, this became known as the Tyler Precedent and was voted into the Constitution as the 25th Amendment. “By boldly assuming the full powers and prerogatives of the presidency upon Harrison’s death, he established what came to be known as the ‘Tyler Precedent,’ not only ensuring the orderly transfer of power in his time but, by making the office ‘independent of death,’ guaranteeing that future accidental presidents could govern with authority” (p. 149).
2. Another precedent was Harrison’s funeral. “And so another precedent was established—the presidential funeral, whose features were generally followed for the next 160 years” (p. 62).
3. With Tyler vetoeing everything in sight, it was to be expected that the Whigs, his erstwhile political party, would be unhappy with this manic behavior. Thus, in 1841, a truly remarkable event occurred. “What happened next was also expected, but it was still shocking because it had never before happened in American history: the president’s entire cabinet, save Daniel Webster resigned” (p. 74). The cabinet, composed of prominent Whigs, could not tolerate any longer John Tyler’s obvious un-Whigishness.
4. And from there, it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to the next rational step taken by the Whigs. They disowned John Tyler. “At the conclusion of their ceremony, the Whigs formally expelled Tyler from their party. Never in American history had a president been ejected from the party that had brought him to power” (p. 76). This emancipation was huge because as Henry Clay put it, John Tyler was now a “President without a party” and this would inevitably hurt his chances for reelection.
5. The Whigs (and many others) hated John Tyler so much that they actually began impeachment proceedings against him (for the first time ever against a sitting president). “On July 10, following the veto of the latest tariff bill, Congressman John Minor Botts…introduced a resolution that would create a special committee to investigate whether the president should be impeached, the first time such an inquiry had been called” (p. 79). Nothing came of it since Congress preferred to have Tyler go out the natural way, allowing him to lose the popular vote in the next election.
6. When Letitia, John’s wife, died, she was actually the first sitting First Lady to do so. “She was the first First Lady to die, and the White House was draped in mourning and the East Room service on September 12 was large and appropriately dignified” (p. 81).
7. The president had, under his command, a ‘secret service contingency fund.’ This had originally been requested by Washington as a means for the president to have extra cash in national emergencies, primarily foreign policy ones. John Tyler, though, dipped into the fund pretty heavily for extremely sketchy projects in which he had covert agents working for him throughout the US. In one such case, his agents worked in Maine undercover to get the citizens there to uphold the new boundary line. May states that this was the first time “Americans were targets of their own government” and that “for a president who had morally opposed Jackson’s imperial presidency, Tyler was skating on the edge of legality” (p. 86).
8. Under John Tyler’s presidency, the United States would sign its first trade treaty with China. “The president also had ‘his eye fixed upon China’ and sent the first official envoy, Caleb Cushing, to open the Celestial Kingdom to US trade” (p. 91).
9. John Tyler purchased a new estate in Virginia and he aptly named it Sherwood Forest in honor of another outlaw. “A few days later, they set out for Charles City County, Virginia, where they honeymooned at Tyler’s new plantation, which he had named Sherwood Forest in honor of Robin Hood, a fellow political outlaw” (p. 116). Looks like Old Tyler had a sense of humor!
10. When John married Julia Gardiner, it was the first marriage of a current president. “The marriage of a sitting president was another first in American history, and the Tyler wedding drew a great deal of attention” (p. 116).
11. With the 1844 election on the horizon, John Tyler, sans political party, realized that his stock was too low for him to be reelected to the presidency. Thus he canceled any plans to run in the next election, throwing his support behind Democrat James K Polk. “And so Tyler became the first incumbent president to decline to seek a second term” (p. 120).
12. After Polk was inaugurated, Tyler and his new wife left the White House forever. At that same moment, another significant moment was occurring in the Congress. “The day was historic in another way: as he left office, Congress overrode Tyler’s last presidential veto. It was on a minor bill authorizing the construction of two vessels for the Revenue Cutter Service, but Congress had never before been able to amass enough votes to do it. Tyler’s unprecedented presidency ended as it began” (p. 126).
13. Tyler would have the most children than any other president in history. “All told, Tyler and his two wives produced fifteen children, a presidential record. Tyler, born the year after George Washington was inaugurated, produced a family that survived until 1947, when Harry Truman was president” (p. 129).
14. With the advent of the civil war, Tyler took his place alongside his home state and voted for secession from the Union. “On the afternoon of April 17 [1861], John Tyler joined eighty-seven other delegates to the Virginia state convention to approve an ordinance of secession and, in so doing, became the first president to betray the country he spent his life serving” (p. 142).

Even though this was a nice short book, I still probably would not recommend it as thrilling reading material. The reason I say this is that I can’t help but compare this book to the Martin Van Buren one and really there is no comparison. Gary May has none of the wit and charm that Ted Widmer relates in his biography. This book on John Tyler is really a pretty dry recitation of the facts on the 11th president’s life and times.

The book might have been a little dull but I’ll tell you who isn’t—John Quincy Adams. He might have been an abysmal president but that guy writes the funniest stuff in his diary! Because of his longevity in the world of politics and his voracious practice of keeping current in his journal, JQA is quoted in absolutely every single biography I’ve read since like the John Adams bio. He is misanthropic, crass, and derogatory to most people and I love it! Just in this book alone, JQA outshines even John Tyler in...Tyler’s own biography! Here’s a sample of John Quincy’s acerbic horror at the thought of John Tyler being called to Boston to dedicate the Bunker Hill memorial. “What a name in the annals of mankind is Bunker Hill! What a day was the 17th of June, 1775! And what a burlesque upon them by Daniel Webster, and a pilgrimage by John Tyler and his cabinet of slave drivers, to desecrate the solemnity by their presence!...Daniel Webster was spouting, and John Tyler’s nose, with a shadow outstretching that of the monumental column [ouch!]—how could I have witnessed all this at once, without an unbecoming burst of indignation, or of laughter. Daniel Webster is a heartless traitor to the cause of human freedom; John Tyler is a slavemonger…What have these to do with a dinner in Faneuil Hall, but to swill like swine, and grunt about the rights of man” (p. 104)? Oh man! Isn’t that classic? For a gentleman raised like a Puritan, John Quincy’s pen is really harsh. Here’s another example for all you JQA-philes, when John Quincy writes about Tyler after his marriage to Julia Gardiner. “Captain Tyler and his bride are the laughingstock of the city. It seems as if he was racing for a prize-banner to the nuptials of the mock—heroic—the sublime and the ridiculous. He has assumed the war power as a prerogative, the veto power as caprice, the appointing and dismissing power as a fund for bribery; and now, under circumstances of revolting indecency; is performing with a young girl from New York the old fable of January and May” (p. 117). I have to give you one more. When John Tyler signed the annexation of Texas before Polk was inaugurated, JQA was outraged. “John Quincy Adams growled that the Constitution had been made ‘a menstrous rag’” (p. 124). I’m sorry…I had to include a little more JQA because he made the book especially fascinating to me.


That being said, of course, I was pleasantly shocked by what Tyler accomplished in his limited time as president. For a guy in office for just under the normal 4 years, he produced a truly magnificent stream of “firsts” that literally beat the pants off other presidents. Interesting.

Plus, you gotta feel a little sorry for the guy. He’s sandwiched in there between Jackson’s forceful personality and the Civil War and either way, he’s overlooked. I can understand why historians don’t jump on the John Tyler bandwagon, not only because he burned his bridges with the Whig party but because he also betrayed his country at the last and voted for secession. Unfortunately, history will be very, very slow to forgive him that last one. If the South had indeed won, Tyler might well have been our greatest hero; it is unfortunate that this is not the case and Tyler’s legacy is, perhaps, gone forever.

#10 John Tyler 1790-1862

Don’t you wish sometimes that we could have sound effects for use in real-life? Like when you throw something out of sight, wouldn’t it be nice to hear a cat yelp in indignation? Or a muted scream?

Right now, I would love to hear the sound of a record screeching to stop mid-song, complete with awkward silence afterwards. The reason that I could totally use this sound effect is due to my rather abrupt change of tactics when dealing with John Tyler. Here’s what happened…I was excited to discover a genuine, grown-up-sized John Tyler bio at my local library. It was called John Tyler: The Accidental President written by Edward Crapol and seemed a perfect fit for my exacting tastes. But I didn’t get one chapter into the book when I realized that this would never do—this book was only about John Tyler’s presidency and nothing else. Now you know how much I hate that. I want to read books about the lives of the presidents, not strictly their presidential years. (Not to mention, The Accidental President was written like a PhD dissertation so it wasn’t exactly light reading material. Besides you could just tell that Crapol really liked John Tyler, which sent me into a horrible flashback of James Monroe’s biographer.)

Well this demanded action. I wasn’t about to read this book since it didn’t fit the criteria anyway so I got online and found a John Tyler book that was part of the American Presidents Series. Now I have to be honest here—The American Presidents Series, bless its heart—is slowly becoming My Best Friend Ever. I’ve noticed a trend with these books—as succinctly as possible, they write about the presidents’ lives, including all the pertinent information and leaving out everything else. I have to say that I’m loving the stuff that they put out. For some obscure reason though my library doesn’t have their John Tyler book, which means (grrrr!) that I have to head to Amazon once more (sigh) and by it.

So let me introduce you to John Tyler by Gary May (New York: Times Books, 2008).

John Tyler was born to a prominent Virginian family on March 29, 1790 and was one of eight children. He grew up with his sisters and brothers on Greenway Plantation in the midst of the Virginia dynasty of the Presidents of the United States. “For the Tylers, Virginia was paramount. Not only was it the wealthiest, most populous, and most influential colony and then state, its sons led the fight for independence, wrote its most sacred documents, then dominated the new federal government. John Tyler grew up with a collection of heroes unsurpassed in America’s history—Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe; George Wythe, who taught Jefferson the law and signed the Declaration of Independence; Patrick Henry, the revolutionary firebrand, governor of Virginia, and Tyler family friend; Edmund Randolph, George Washington’s attorney general and secretary of state. Four of the nation’s first five presidents and Chief Justice John Marshall were Virginians” (p. 12).

At the ambitious age of 12, John went to William and Mary, where he was noted for being sickly and silent. He excelled in “ancient history, poetry, and the works of William Shakespeare” (p. 13) and eventually graduated in 1807. He proceeded to study law under the famed Edmund Randolph but he was never really excited about that line of work. He felt called to be a politician, like his father, and so in 1811, John ran and was elected to the Virginia House of Delegates.

The War of 1812 soon intervened in John’s life and a number of things happened to him around this time. First of all, his beloved father died of pneumonia. Then on John’s 23rd birthday, he married the girl next door, Letitia Christian of the Cedar Grove plantation. Finally, with the advent of the British in the area, he joined the Charles County Rifles as a captain but never actually saw any action. Through all this he continued to win election after election back into the Virginia House of Delegates. In 1815, though, he was finally elected onto a bigger stage when he became a Virginia congressman to the House of Representatives.

He became known as a fervent states rights man, voting against the Bank of the United States and Henry Clay’s American System. He also was fervidly pro-slavery. “Despite his efforts to mitigate its brutality Tyler, like other slave masters, could not prosper let alone survive without slavery” (p. 23). John ended up resigning from Congress due to a number of reasons: financial (he was broke), familial (he already had 3 small children at home), physical (he was always sickly), and futility (he felt like he wasn’t contributing to the government).

To enhance his economic status, Tyler went back to practicing law but it again did not thrill him. He even got into a fistfight in court with a witness for the other side (p. 27)! And sooner rather than later, he allowed himself to be pulled back into politics by being elected to the Virginia legislature in 1823. By 1825, he was elected governor of Virginia and by 1827, he was back in Washington as a senator. (To finance his way to Washington, Tyler sold an old family slave, “which would mean that Tyler began his Senate career with monies generated by the sale of a human being” (p. 30).)

As a senator, perhaps his greatest achievement was being the only one to vote against Andrew Jackson’s Force Bill. But in this, John Tyler was happy to do it—he couldn’t stand Andrew Jackson. In fact, when Jackson was censured by Congress and then made to expunge the record, Tyler resigned in lofty indignation. “In his formal letter of resignation, Tyler explained that he could not subscribe to such an unconstitutional resolution” (p. 46).

His retirement was again short-lived. In the 1836 election, he was nominated as a vice presidential candidate by the Whig party but lost to Richard Johnson of Kentucky who joined Van Buren on the presidential ticket. By the 1840 election, though, he was back in the game but this time paired with William Henry Harrison, the hero of Tippecanoe. With an Indianan running for president, it made sense to the Whigs to have a Virginian run with him. The campaign for Old Tippecanoe and Tyler Too was an amazing achievement for the fledgling Whig party and William Henry Harrison won by a pretty large amount.

No one could really have foreseen what happened next—one month after the inauguration, William Henry Harrison died; thus creating a political black hole for the United States. At this time in our history, no other president had died and since the Constitution was remarkably mum about the matter, no one really knew what would happen to the vice president. Tyler merely took over all the presidential duties, including the oath of office, and decided that he was, indeed, president of the United States. “By explicitly stating that he had inherited the office, Tyler undercut those who believed that he was only the ‘acting’ president. Although a few legislators raised questions about Tyler’s legitimacy, both the House and the Senate later formerly recognized his lawful right to the office” (p. 63).

So now we have John Tyler inadvertenly becoming the 10th President of the United States by default, while things soon began to spiral downward and out of his control. He had been added to the Whig ticket because of his hatred of Andrew Jackson but at heart he was really a Democrat. Thus, after his accession to the presidency, this partiality soon surfaced and it had the entire Whig party in an uproar. For instance, the Whigs (& previously John Tyler) had bemoaned the fact that Jackson took an almost monarchical pleasure as he vetoed bill after bill. As a reaction, the Whigs proposed a president who was more laissez-faire about the matter, which Tyler had agreed with also. However, as president, Tyler began to veto bills left and right, regardless of whether they were Whig or Democrat. “So frequent and regular were Tyler’s vetoes that this one was called ‘his veto of the month’” (p. 79). The Whigs formally disowned him and hatred for Tyler grew around the country. Threats were made against the President and his family until Tyler begged Congress for some sort of bodyguard.

His problems had only begun though. Soon, Tyler’s wife, Letitia, died, leaving him a single father over 8 children. In 1843, Tyler’s attorney general died suddenly. Then, on board the Princeton, for a celebratory event, one of the canons exploded, killing several members of the President’s coterie, including his secretary of state, Abel Upshur and the father of his future wife.

Not everything was terrible for John Tyler however. He spent most of his energy on foreign policy and was able to conclude a remarkable treaty with England, the Webster-Ashburton Treaty that cleared up some boundary disputes in New England (and kept them from going to war.) Also John met and fell in love with a 22-year old socialite named Julia Gardiner. On June 24, 1844, they wed, even though there was a considerable span of years between them.

Tyler toyed with the idea of running for president in the 1844 election but nobody really liked him. Thus, he threw all his support behind James K Polk, which allowed that gentleman to become the next president. Before Polk was inaugurated, though, Tyler decided to act on behalf of Texas and on March 1st, 3 days before he left office, he signed the annexation of Texas into law. Most people decided that Polk should have had the recognition for annexing Texas (it was through his support that Congress agreed to it) but even as he began his presidency, Tyler would leave on a controversial note.

He and Julia retired to their Virginian estate to farm and to raise the seven children that they would have. John kept abreast of all that happened in the political world and even tried to get back into politics a time or two. He couldn’t have known that the next time he would be elected to anything it would be to the Congress of the Confederate States of America. Initially, Tyler did everything in his power as a former president to avert the civil war that seemed to be looming on the horizon. However, when it was made clear to him that it was war or abolition, he threw his support behind Virginia’s secession from the Union, earning himself the hatred of many thereafter. He died of a “bilious attack, united with bronchitis” (p. 144) on January 18, 1862 while he was in Richmond as a congressman. In the North, he was not mourned.

#9: William Henry Harrison Part 2

Really Cool Stuff about William Henry Harrison
1. After the Revolutionary War, the army, in repose, became quite addicted to the sport of dueling. In a time when dueling was all the rage, young William, an Ensign in Cincinnati, stood up to fashion and eschewed its practice as injurious to his health. “After witnessing a sorrowful scene at the bedside of a dying officer who whispered a few last words of forgiveness to his triumphant and unashamed slayer, Harrison vowed to take no part whatsoever in the pastime” (p.10).
2. While serving as aide-de-camp under Mad Anthony Wayne, Harrison struck up a friendship with two other young officers, Ensign Meriwether Lewis and Lieutenant William Clark.
3. As staid and steady as Harrison was to become, he was young once too. In his youth, he met Anna Symmes and married her directly against the wishes of her father. “Despite the stern injunction from a man of influence in Northwest Territory Harrison still contrived to meet his love and after General Wayne gave the would-be bridegroom his blessing, a runaway marriage was agreed to. November 25, Symmes mounted his horse and rode from North Bend to Cincinnati on business and upon that day also a wedding party gathered at the home of Doctor Stephen Wood, a tenant of Symme’s. Wood, who was treasurer of the Northwest Territory and a justice of the peace, married William and Anna in the parlor of his log house and watched them ride away to Fort Washington” (p. 25).
4. When Harrison finally was able built a house for his family, he kept in mind his proximity to the frontier and constructed it primarily for safety. “Harrison paid particular attention to details of defense. The outer walls, eighteen inches of solid brick, were slit for portholes, the broad-silled attic windows designed for sharp-shooters…in the cellar was constructed a powder magazine with walls of heavy masonry and an arched brick ceiling, and a trap-door led to a look-out station on the roof” (p. 45).
5. With Vincennes, the capital of the Indiana Territory, becoming more cosmopolitan, Harrison, as Governor, tried to initiate a higher level of civility into peoples’ lives. “The town of Vincennes now contained nearly a thousand souls. With the arrival of a better class of immigrants from the East, the Governor and his associates, many of them Virginians, were endeavoring to introduce a degree of civilization to the frontier. During the sixth year of his rule, Harrison helped to establish a circulating library in the town…Plans for the organization of a university at Vincennes were also underway” (p. 51).
6. Like Andrew Jackson, Harrison was also approached by Aaron Burr, on his crazy scheme to take over Texas, but Harrison didn’t bite. “Some months before, Burr had visited Grouseland, apparently to enlist the Governor’s interest and aid, but he never returned a second time and the true purpose of the visit was left vague” (p. 56).
7. During the War of 1812, Harrison defeated the British at the Battle of the Thames and thereafter forced the British into a rout. Because of that, the British were unable to pack their bags, leaving a good amount of intelligence behind to fall into Harrison’s hands. “Most of Proctor’s [the British General] official papers may be found in the Library of Congress and War Department archives today” (p. 203).
8. As Ambassador to Columbia, Harrison proved that he was an avid gardener. “Harrison engaged a sizeable mansion, the Garden of James, and spent much time in cultivating rows of vegetables new to that country, the seed imported from North Bend. His garden flourished abundantly in a moist soil at some 60 degrees F. The produce, freely dispensed, was in great demand at legation dinners” (p. 267).
9. William Henry Harrison became a passionate prohibitionist. “Always a temperate man, Harrison had become something of a prohibitionist, abandoning the corn distillery common to every large western farm” (p. 280).
10. Harrison was the grandfather to United States President #23, Benjamin Harrison.
11. Harrison was the first president to die while in office. However, he did not die from his inaugural address as popular legend admits. I love being all Mythbusters around here! Move over, Dan Brown!

Well I can’t honestly say that I would recommend this book to anyone. On the one hand, it sucks having to read three hundred and fifty pages on William Henry Harrison (which is 250 pages too long) but it’s even worse with the scent of musty attic assailing your nostrils. I’m not kidding here…what kind of toxin in 1939 publishing ink produces such a terrible smell!?! The book is also pretty confusing. The author does not keep up with dates and sometimes I lost the thread of what was happening and when. Granted, I don’t go by dates normally but sometimes it does matter. For instance, Harrison resigning his commission of Commander of the Army in May of 1814 made a hellava lot of difference to Andrew Jackson who then reaped the benefits. You see? The dates in the book are very unclear and too ambiguous to give you a good account of the general’s life. I’m almost ashamed but I have to admit that I wikied him a good deal.

I know I have to take into consideration the 1939 publication date, but old Freeman Cleaves is…um…how do I put this…not very politically correct. Ha! When describing the Indians of the west, he uses some terms that are no longer quite in vogue. Here’s a great example on p. 66. “Harrison discussed with these painted savages the subject of present British kindness.[italics added]” When I read this sentence for the first time, I got that electric shock that I hadn’t felt since reading King Solomon’s Mines! Nowadays we’re so coddled that I can’t even read a good old-fashioned pejorative and not cringe. I thought that “painted savages” was just something made up for movies but apparently it was an indelible part of the vernacular of the 30s. In fact, Cleaves strews the word “savages” through the entire book and undermines the American Indians almost continuously. “Fourteen hundred savages, more or less, were now assembled about Fort Wayne, a treaty assemblage exceeding in numbers that of Greenville in 1795. A defeat for Harrison at this juncture would mean an unhappy loss of prestige. Was the government’s commissioner unable to cope with such a representative throng? Harrison talked for two hours in reply to The Owl, reviewing the known conduct of the British and Americans toward the savage tribes. The British, he reminded the savages, had always encouraged them to fight the Americans, yet, if the lands they had lost in these wars had been sold the annuities thus gained would have satisfied their every want” (p. 66-7). And it goes on, of course.

I also find it interesting that even though Harrison lived through a rough part of our nation’s affairs regarding slavery, it is not even mentioned in the index.

Something else that bothered me about this book was that there was very little in it about Harrison’s private life or indeed, about himself at all. What I mean is that Harrison never really comes alive through the book. The author does all the right things by giving us a picture of Harrison’s life but he never really goes the entire distance. I don’t mean that I want the author to conjure up false emotions and ideas to make the general seem alive but I sit here today and really have no idea what this guy was like. I can say that he was an upright man, for the most part, but don’t really know for sure. Maybe he didn’t know for sure. “Harrison’s public letter explained his stand, distinguishing between his championship of ‘human liberty’ and his votes against restricting the spread of slavery” (p. 253). So, yes, the same guy who fought for human liberty also has no problem owning slaves. Maybe Freeman Cleaves just didn’t have any good information on the man inside the man. But I do know this—I barely got any information at all about his home life. I read about his runaway marriage (thrilling stuff) and that is positively the last thing you read about his wife. Anna is alluded to briefly and you really only hear about his children when they’re born….and that’s 10 kids he had! Plus the end of the book was rather abrupt. WHH died, there was a funeral, and…and the book ends there. It’s weird.

One good thing about the book is the plethora of maps, pictures and portraits sprinkled throughout it. I love being able to see the stuff that I usually have to imagine. Cleaves also gives a really detailed and interesting background on the Harrison family that brings a saga-like feel to the book. He starts with Benjamin Harrison the first and winds us up with Benjamin Harrison V and the birth of WHH. Being able to picture William within the context of the larger Harrison clan was really interesting from a psychological standpoint.

The author also goes into great descriptive narrative over the conditions of the common soldier during the War of 1812. It’s really rather horrific but I prefer this to the author ignoring it altogether. I enjoyed getting the western perspective during the War of 1812 and all the triumphs and defeats that were going on there while Washington burned and Andrew Jackson fought at New Orleans.

While William Henry Harrison was not president for very long, he played a major role in the course of our nation’s history, heavily influencing the events in the West. For that alone, we should always remember him.