CHAPTER 3
. . . perhaps the greatest, of the prominent sources of discord and disaster supposed to lurk in our political condition was the institution of domestic slavery.
—MARTIN VAN BUREN, INAUGURAL ADDRESS
Van Buren ~ Fillmore ~ Pierce ~ Buchanan ~ Tyler
After the vicious infighting that had opened Andrew Jackson’s presidency, perhaps no one would have guessed that Van Buren would unanimously be nominated by the Democratic Party as his successor. The New Yorker ran strong in the South, promising non-interference with slavery where it existed, including attempts to abolish it in the District of Columbia. The Whigs nominated four regional candidates, hoping to send the election to the House of Representatives, but Van Buren prevailed, winning the presidency in the election of 1836. But in his victory were signs of trouble ahead; Van Buren’s electoral vote collapsed from Jackson’s 219 to 170, and this against badly divided opposition. His strategy of symbiosis with Jackson had brought him to this point, but he would have to work to carve out his own identity. Referring to Jackson’s presence at the inauguration, one senator wrote, “For once, the rising was eclipsed by the setting sun.”
The American economy had overheated. Slavery, which had so concerned Van Buren while he wrote his inaugural address, receded as an issue in the face of the first national economic collapse. The state banks, flush with federal deposits, were instructed to lend it freely, leading to runaway land speculation. Less than two weeks after the inauguration, the New York financial services firm of I. and L. Joseph collapsed. European lenders curtailed their lending and liquidated American assets. Banks began to fail, triggering a run on accounts. In just one day in New York, $2 million in coins were withdrawn.
Confronted with this unprecedented crisis, Van Buren called a special session of Congress, the first in twenty-four years. Van Buren proposed issuing treasury bonds to cover the deficit, and the placement of revenue in an independent treasury, essentially making the government its own banker. James Buchanan, now a senator from Pennsylvania, approved of Van Buren’s plan, writing Jackson, “It was every thing it ought to have been; and whilst it delighted his friends it extorted the respect of his enemies.” Also considering these proposals were Millard Fillmore who had won election to his old congressional seat, riding a wave of increasing economic frustration, and Franklin Pierce, who at thirty-three became the nation’s youngest senator.
The Whigs demonstrated strength at Van Buren’s expense during the midterm elections. In his home state Democratic legislators became an endangered species while William Seward was elected the first Whig governor. Fillmore traveled through the western part of the state with Seward, and “no stump in five counties was too small for him to mount” on his behalf. The young political party could now taste the ultimate prize. The Whigs met early to select their nominee—December of 1839—and held their first national convention in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Henry Clay, twice defeated in his great pursuit for the presidency, was the choice of states’ rights Whigs, who supported him due to his work on the Compromise Tariff. John Tyler, who had returned to the Virginia House and served as speaker, was a Clay delegate, “first, last and all the time . . . whether he could be elected or not.” Clay’s chief rival was William Henry Harrison, a former senator, congressman, minister to Colombia, and governor of the Indiana Territory, who gained fame as the Indian-fighting general at the Battle of Tippecanoe. Harrison had the backing of national republican Whigs (successors to John Quincy Adams, who favored a more energetic federal government) as well as the Anti-Masons and those who wanted a war hero of their own to best the party of Jackson. When Harrison prevailed, Tyler was rumored to have shed tears, something he laughed off as nonsense. But the reports had their effect on Clay supporters looking to be mollified. Tyler had been the vice presidential nominee of the southern Whigs in 1836, carrying four states. Now, to balance the ticket with a states’ rights supporter and Clay man, he was the vice presidential nominee of the national party. The Whigs, who came together from divergent backgrounds and for different reasons, facing a badly wounded foe, did not attempt to put together a platform.
In May, Martin Van Buren was re-nominated by the Democrats for a second term. Taken for granted in modern times, his ability to win re-nomination would baffle his successors for twenty-four years.
The Jacksonian era had seen a dramatic expansion of the electorate, as various barriers to voting were reduced or removed, triggering a need for vastly different campaigns. The 56 percent average turnout in 1836 and 1832 was dwarfed by 80 percent in 1840, with an increase from 1.5 million to 2.5 million voters. The Whigs portrayed Harrison as a log-cabin-dwelling, coonskin-cap-wearing, hard-cider-drinking frontier farmer. The opposite was true. Harrison was from one of the oldest and most prosperous families in Virginia, and his log cabin was in reality a mansion in Indiana. His father, Benjamin Harrison V, had been a member of the Continental Congress, signer of the Declaration of Independence, and governor. The Whig campaign conveyed its message as never before through parades, barbecues, pole raisings, rallies, and printed pamphlets. The Whigs of Buffalo erected a Harrison log cabin, where on October 23, Millard Fillmore made a speech on behalf of the ticket, condemning the high-handedness of the president, criticizing his approach to the financial crisis, and advocating federal public works. Van Buren was crushed 234–60 in the Electoral College, winning only 47 percent nationally while losing his home state to Harrison.
Van Buren would leave office shortly after his fifty-eighth birthday. He easily could have retired, spending the rest of his life enjoying family, rest, and relaxation. He could do so secure in his record of service in New York, in the US Senate, in the legacy of the Democratic Party he had played a principal role in founding, and in holding the three highest offices in the national government. But what promise did retirement have for a man whose entire adult life was at center of action?
The Whigs were euphoric. The reign of the Jacksonians was over and they had elected a president of their own, and with him massive majorities in both chambers of Congress. But their joy would be short-lived. For all the rallies, the marches, the speeches, the brilliant sloganeering, the long-sought hard-fought victory of the opponents of Andrew Jackson would be for nothing.