CHAPTER 5
Neither of us probably supposed that he would ever be President. He has since greatly improved.
—JAMES BUCHANAN ON JAMES K. POLK
Buchanan ~ Tyler ~ Pierce ~ Fillmore
President-elect Polk asked James Buchanan to serve as his secretary of state. The letter bearing the offer appeared to carry with it the condition that Buchanan not run for president. Buchanan responded carefully. “I do not know that I shall ever desire to be a candidate of the Presidency,” but “I could not, and would not, accept the high and honorable office which you have called me, at the expense of self-ostracism. My friends would unanimously condemn me were I to pursue this course.” If put forward as a candidate, “I cannot declare in advance that I would not accede to their wishes.” The two eventually found language that made both of them comfortable, and Buchanan prepared to enter the cabinet.
At the age of fifty-three, Senator James Buchanan of Pennsylvania climbed yet another step on the steadiest ascension to the apex of American politics. Buchanan’s resume, which included a decade in the House of Representatives, another decade in the Senate, and service as Jackson’s minister to Russia, concealed a less auspicious beginning.
Buchanan was the son of an Irish immigrant farmer and a mother who was the daughter of a country farmer. His well-read mother liked to argue with her children, sharpening their debating skills. Buchanan entered Dickinson College in 1807. “There was no efficient discipline,” he remembered, “and the young men did pretty much as they pleased. To be a sober, plodding, industrious youth was to incur the ridicule of the mass of the students.” To fit in, Buchanan “engaged in every sort of extravagance and mischief in which the greatest proficients of the college indulged.” On a Sunday during an autumn break from school, Buchanan remembered, a letter was delivered to his father. Upon reading it, “his countenance fell.” Passing it to his son, he left the room. Its contents—details of Buchanan’s misbehavior—were devastating. If not for his father’s reputation, he would have been expelled. Buchanan was requested not to return, which would spare the family the mortification of his being sent away while school was in session. Buchanan reached out to the pastor of his church, a trustee of Dickinson, and pledged to refrain from shenanigans if he could only be readmitted. In this he succeeded, but his conduct was not forgotten, and at graduation, when the faculty had to choose between two students on whom to bestow the highest honors, Buchanan was unfairly passed over. His father’s advice would be valuable for his future career in politics. “Often when people have the greatest prospects of temporal honor and aggrandizement, they are all blasted in a moment by a fatality connected with men and things; and no doubt the designs of Providence may be seen very conspicuously in our disappointments, in order to teach us our dependence on Him who knows all events, and they ought to humble our pride and self-sufficiency.”
Buchanan qualified as a lawyer and served in the War of 1812 as a private in a company that went to Baltimore, in preparation for a British invasion of the city that never materialized. Upon his return he was elected to the Pennsylvania legislature. There he gained fame in the impeachment trial of Judge Franklin, who had vacated the state conviction of a man who refused to be drafted into federal service. Buchanan successfully argued for his acquittal before the Senate.
With success at the Bar, service in time of war, and a record in politics, Buchanan next turned his attention toward finding a wife. Of all those to serve as president, he was the only one never to succeed in doing so. Ann Coleman, his fiancée, was remembered as a “very beautiful girl, of singularly attractive and gentle disposition,” from a prominent family in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It appears, however, that from the machinations of others a wedge was driven between the young lovers. In the summer of 1819, she wrote Buchanan a letter asking to be released from their engagement. If it was her wish, he replied, he would acquiesce. Months later, at the age of twenty-three, she died while visiting Philadelphia, before an expected reconciliation could come to pass, with suicide often suspected as the cause. An obituary, which one witness claimed was written by Buchanan, closed with the poem “The spider’s most attenuated thread/Is cord, is cable to man’s tender tie/On earthly bliss—it breaks at every breeze.”
Buchanan wrote to her father. “You have lost a child, a dear, dear child. I have lost the only earthly object of my affections, without whom life now presents to me a dreary blank. My prospects are all cut off, and I feel that my happiness is buried with her in the grave.” Buchanan said that someday he would learn that they both had been the victims of interference by others in their relationship. “God forgive the authors of it.” He pleaded with the grieving father to “Afford me the melancholy pleasure of seeing her body before its interment.” He asked also that he be allowed to attend the funeral. “I would like to convince the world, and I hope yet to convince you, that she was infinitely dearer to me than life.” The letter was returned to him, unopened. Buchanan would never marry or again come close to marriage. Several years before becoming secretary of state, his sister and her husband died, leaving him the guardian of Harriet Lane, his young niece. She would later serve as first lady, as well as the closest thing Buchanan would experience to having a child of his own. In his grief, he accepted the urging of his friends to run for a seat in Congress, which he won. He was sworn in in December of 1821, during the presidency of James Monroe.
An active supporter of Jackson in 1824 and again in 1828, Buchanan’s earnest efforts helped Old Hickory win Pennsylvania. Though still very young, his abilities led to his being talked about for the vice presidency. In December of 1831, President Jackson proposed Buchanan as the minister to Russia, and he was confirmed by the Senate a month later. He would not depart until the icy water unfroze, giving him time to learn French, the universal diplomatic language. Buchanan remembered his time at the Tsar’s Court as a series of encounters with princes, counts, dukes, and other assorted noblemen. He remembered the double-paned windows and fireplaces that made the winter bearable, as well as the northern summer nights that never seemed to end. Buchanan successfully concluded a treaty of commerce and navigation with Russia, departing in August of 1832 in an unsuccessful attempt to see his ailing mother one final time.
Entering the Senate in December 1834, he declined to serve as Van Buren’s attorney general five years later. Buchanan was considered for president in 1840, but most delegates were committed to Van Buren, the incumbent. “If I should ever run for the Presidency,” he told his supporters, “I would like to have an open field and a fair start.” But if Van Buren somehow stumbled, Buchanan had empowered his friends to put him forward. Four years later came another disappointment for Buchanan, as the dark horse from Tennessee garnered the Democratic nomination and the presidency.
Buchanan remembered serving with Polk in the House, remarking to a former colleague “neither of us probably supposed that he would ever be President. He has since greatly improved.” The president and his secretary of state had recently shared a meal and afternoon together, and Buchanan came away satisfied that the best choice had been made under the circumstances. Besides, Buchanan was certain that Van Buren would have lost to Clay.
Polk and Buchanan had three pressing challenges in the realm of foreign affairs. The first was to make sure that Texas ratified the resolution, adopted at the close of Tyler’s term, to join the Union. The second was to manage the fallout with Mexico that would result. Third was a potential war with Britain over the Oregon Territory. This massive region included all of modern-day Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and parts of Montana and Wyoming. Remote and sparsely populated, the area was jointly administered by Britain and the United States, a stopgap since neither could agree on a northwestern boundary. Either country could withdraw from the treaty after a one-year notice. In addition to the prospects of losing the territory to Britain or forcing a war on the subject, Polk faced the predominantly American settlers clamoring for protection and threatening to create their own government in the event the United States did not find a way to bring them in.
The president and his secretary of state had radically different personalities; where Polk was bellicose, Buchanan was cautious. Ultimately, Buchanan would prevail upon the president to accept a more moderate settlement with Britain, allowing the administration to focus on the deteriorating situation with Mexico.
Late one September evening Buchanan visited Polk to discuss the rumors then circulating about his being considered for appointment to the Supreme Court. Buchanan swore that he was not the source, but that he “had long desired to have a seat on the Bench of the Supreme.” He noted that he had passed up chances in the past, none having come at the right time. He added that it would save them from an awkward situation if Polk moved to reduce the tariff, which Pennsylvania manufacturing relied upon.
Polk expressed his satisfaction with Buchanan at State and questioned whether he could find a suitable cabinet replacement. Buchanan promised that if the situation with Mexico worsened he would stay. The two agreed that nothing had to be decided now, and to revisit the question when Congress convened in December.
But as Congress met, tensions with Mexico were high. Buchanan wrote to Louis McLane, American minister to England, “I should this day have been on the bench of the Supreme Court, had it not been for the critical state of our foreign relations. I very much desire the position, because it would have enabled me to spend the remainder of my days in peace. I have now been on the stormy deep nearly a quarter of a century.” And so James Buchanan narrowly missed a life of peaceful judicial decision-making and continued on the track that would lead him to the calamitous final hours of his life in politics. Polk’s Supreme Court nominee failed in the Senate, amid rumors that Buchanan had helped orchestrate his defeat, underscored by the votes of Buchanan’s closest allies. Buchanan later tried to enlist the attorney general to back his Supreme Court claim, unsuccessfully. Polk recorded in his diary, “Mr. Buchanan will find that I cannot be forced to act against my convictions, and that if he chooses to retire I will find no difficulty in administering the government without his aid.”
In addition to the dispute over Texas, America was aggrieved by millions of dollars in outstanding claims against the Mexican government. For years, corrupt officials had seized American vessels and goods, and Americans traveling or doing business in the country were arrested or placed in slavery. Louisiana congressman John Slidell (the only one who spoke Spanish) had been sent to Mexico to adjust the difficulties between the two countries. He was rejected by the Mexican government, who relied on a technicality to send him back to Washington. Polk had begun the year by ordering General Zachary Taylor and his men to the Rio Grande, to protect Texas from Mexican aggression. Polk informed his cabinet that attempts at diplomacy had failed, and that Mexico had refused to make good on the wrongs done to the United States. He then asked the opinion of his cabinet, starting with Buchanan. The secretary of state agreed and urged Polk to seek a declaration of war. The consensus was that a message should be drafted by Buchanan and sent to Congress.
The cabinet met again on May 9. Everyone agreed that if any hostile action were taken against Taylor’s forces, a declaration of war should be sought immediately. Buchanan believed America had more than enough cause for war, but would “feel better satisfied in his course” in the event of aggression against Taylor. At 7:30 that night, the cabinet returned to the White House in summons to an emergency meeting. Since their earlier gathering, Polk had received a dispatch explaining that Mexican forces had crossed the Rio del Norte, killing or capturing sixty-three of Taylor’s men. Buchanan was tasked with hastily preparing a history of the wrongs committed by Mexico and assisting the president in his message to Congress.
On May 13, the United States Congress declared war on Mexico. Soon thereafter, the US Army advanced from three directions; Taylor drove south into Mexico’s interior, while two separate forces proceeded west, capturing California and New Mexico with little difficulty (these two Mexican territories included all or part of the present-day states of California, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona). On August 8, 1846, President Polk asked Congress for authority to purchase land from Mexico as part of a settlement. Before now, the inextricable issues of slavery and territorial acquisition had been settled by the Missouri Compromise of 1820. Missouri was admitted as a slave state, Maine as a free state; in territories created from the Louisiana Purchase, slavery was otherwise prohibited north of the 36' 30" parallel (roughly the southern border of Missouri), and permitted to the south of that line. What would be the fate of the vast new territory expected to be acquired from Mexico?
The president’s request created bedlam in the House of Representatives. In the heat of the debate, the Speaker recognized David Wilmot of Pennsylvania, a little-known, pro-administration Democrat, who would now offer one of the most divisive proposals in American history. Wilmot supported slavery where it existed, he said, but where it did not, “God forbid that we should be the means of planting this institution upon it.” The Wilmot Proviso, as it would be known, would forbid slavery in the territory gained from Mexico. “As if by magic,” one newspaper noted, “it brought to a head the great question which is about to divide the American people.” It would pass the House but die in the Senate, taking Polk’s request down with it.
John Tyler, who had opposed the Missouri Compromise as a congressman, wrote a newspaper editorial on the Wilmot Proviso. Former presidents were expected to remain out of politics, which may account for its anonymous publication. “What is it that excited in the northern states such distrust of the south as shall produce on their part a desire to exclude the southern states from an equal participation in the full benefits of Union?” Tyler believed that ten northerners would move to the new territory for every southerner. He believed no man would bring his slaves there and risk losing them upon statehood. Tyler argued that the Wilmot Proviso was an abstract question to the North, but a serious insult to the South.
At the opening of the war, Polk had marginalized General Winfield Scott, a Whig thought to harbor presidential ambitions, in favor of Taylor. After Taylor’s signal successes, the Whigs began to mention his name as a candidate for president in 1848. Whether politics or military strategy was his guide, Polk decided to open a second phase of the war. A significant part of Taylor’s army would be given to Scott, who, with ten new regiments, would land at Veracruz and drive west to Mexico City to capture the capital. Polk attempted to place Democratic senator Thomas Hart Benton of Missouri in a new role of lieutenant general, over Scott and Taylor, to deny them their military laurels and to strengthen his party in the next presidential election. But even the Democrats in Congress resisted this move, unable to justify replacing the leadership that had not lost a single battle. Buchanan, it appears, administered the coup de grace to this plan through his congressional supporters, unwilling to see Benton elevated as his rival for the nomination. After Scott’s expedition left, Taylor was left hundreds of miles inside of Mexico with 4,073 men, only a tenth of whom were professional soldiers. General Santa Anna, eager to undermine American support for the war, approached him with a force of twenty thousand, intending to crush Taylor’s army. Taylor refused to surrender, inflicting on his opponent a catastrophic defeat in the Battle of Buena Vista. Rather than undermine Taylor, Polk had inadvertently made him the most popular man in America. Less than a month later, Scott executed the largest amphibious landing in history, and aided by officers such as Ulysses Grant, Robert E. Lee, George Meade, James Longstreet, and Thomas Jackson, shelled the city of Veracruz into submission in a matter of days. Scott marched westward, where he would await the rest of his regiments before proceeding to Mexico City.
On July 14, Brigadier General Franklin Pierce and his twenty-five hundred men left Veracruz with eighty-five wagons to join Scott’s army. To his wife’s horror, Pierce had lobbied fiercely for the appointment and worked hard to raise men for the war effort. He had grown up listening to his father’s Revolutionary War stories and those of his brothers’ service in the War of 1812 and was eager for martial glory of his own. Five years earlier, he had reluctantly agreed to leave politics, to focus on his wife, the practice of law, and raising children. He had even turned down Polk’s offer to serve as attorney general. But he resolved that Jane would not deny him this.
At the National Bridge, spanning the Antigua River, Pierce learned by careful reconnaissance that Mexican soldiers were lying in wait, fortified on a bluff on the other side. After an artillery barrage, Pierce sent an infantry division to capture their position. But the sight of US forces sent the defenders to flight. Before fleeing, they had managed to shoot Pierce’s hat from his head while killing the horse next to him. At another river crossing, the bridge was destroyed to block American reinforcements. Pierce ordered a new bridge constructed, and five hundred men working together accomplished exactly that within three hours.
Three weeks after leaving Veracruz, with skirmishing, sniper fire, and sickness all confronted successfully, General Pierce joined General Scott in Puebla, and together marched toward their final destination. At Contreras, they encountered the main Mexican army under Santa Anna. Pierce’s brigade was directed to attack head on, while Scott and the rest of his men took a circuitous route to attack on their flank. Pierce’s brigade was greeted with artillery fire, startling his horse, which had been a gift from the people of New Hampshire. Pierce suffered a groin injury from being thrown against his saddle, when his mount stumbled before finally falling on its rider. Slowly regaining consciousness, Pierce declined to leave the field while attempting to find his men. The next day, his soldiers were ordered to resume the attack on foot. Pierce, with a badly injured knee, turned over command. The operation was successful, forcing a Mexican retreat. The Mexicans regrouped at Churubusco, where Scott intended to give a decisive blow. Before the attack, Scott ordered the injured Pierce to the rear. “For God’s sake General,” Pierce implored of the man he would later defeat for president, “this is the last great battle, and I must lead my brigade.” Scott relented, ordering him to lead his men behind the Mexican army to block their escape. Along the way, Pierce was required to dismount and lead his horse, but the pain of walking three hundred yards on his injured knee was so severe that he lost consciousness. When he came to, Pierce ordered his men to leave him there, and when the Mexicans arrived to check their movement, some of the bloodiest fighting of the war ensued. Santa Anna and his men successfully retreated into Mexico City. On September 8, Pierce had sufficiently recovered to lead his men in reinforcing a successful attack against the defenders of Chapultepec Castle, a strategic outpost for the defense of the capital. Pierce and his men guarded the supplies while the rest of the army triumphantly entered Mexico City.
As the American army captured the Mexican capital, the Whigs were winning major offices throughout the country. Fillmore, who had been unwillingly nominated for New York governor in 1844 and defeated, was now put forward for comptroller. This office, elected by the people for the first time in 1847, had more power than the governor. “Much against my wishes, I was nominated for Comptroller and elected,” he wrote. Fillmore won by 38,000 votes, the largest margin of any Whig in state history, capping a year of Whig successes throughout the country, as the party took control of the House of Representatives.