Millard Fillmore

13th President (1850-1853); b. 1800; d. 1874

I won't say much about Millard Fillmore because he's not worth saying much about.  The only full-length book I found for this guy is a humor book talking about Fillmore riding unicorns, etc.  I read a book written for middle schoolers because the book in Schlesinger's presidents series wasn't published when I finished Taylor, and I'm not going back.

He was nominated Vice President to block Thurlow Weed and William Seward (which didn't work, as both became prominent Republicans).  He didn't do much notable as president--the most important event of his presidency was the compromise of 1850, which was Henry Clay's last major contribution to American history.  After his presidency, he married a wealthy widow, helped found the University of Buffalo, and became a know-nothing.

He's not even the best president from Buffalo, NY.

Zachary Taylor

K. Jack Bauer:  Zachary Taylor: Soldier, Planter, Statesman of the Old Southwest
Zachary Taylor:  12th President (1849-1850); b. 1784; d. 1850

Zachary Taylor might be one of the least interesting men to become president, up until the Mexican American war.  The biography of his early years is simply the story of a soldier of the old U.S. Army.  Promotion was based almost entirely on the basis of seniority.  When a spot opened up for a major, the senior-most captain was promoted.  For decades, Taylor ascended the ranks.  He served in the war of 1812, the Black Hawk War, the Second Seminole War, etc, etc.  His service was solid, but not exciting or remarkable.

Everything changed at the outset of the Mexican-American war.  Taylor became commander of the American forces and commanded the army in some of the most dynamic and successful military engagements of the early Republic.  Palo Alto was a huge victory, and his victory at Monterrey was a spectacular result that showed his command abilities and the determination of his men in some rather brutal street fighting.  His persona during the war was just as interesting.  Eschewing a dress uniform, he wore a worn-out cloth duster and was often mistaken by visiting officers for a servant.  "Old Rough and Ready" was very popular with his troops, and his commitment to and familiarity with them was a hallmark of his leadership (showing that no one style is better than another, Winfred Scott, known as "Old Fuss and Feathers" for his overly polished boots and decorated uniform, took over command of the Mexican War from Taylor and was even more successful than Taylor).  U.S. Grant--who served under and greatly admired Taylor--largely adopted Taylor's casual style when commanding Union forces in the Civil War.



It's rather disappointing that there isn't more popular culture focusing on the Mexican-American War.  This was one of the most important events in U.S. history, an expansion in territory second only to the Louisiana Purchase.  The fact that we gained this territory by conquest is not, I think, something that the nation should forget or be ashamed of.  This was the story of a few great figures in American history--including Polk and Taylor--taking the nation's destiny into their own hands and making great events happen.  Moreover, the battles themselves were exciting, bite-sized, and tremendous victories for the U.S.  These things practically write themselves as screenplays.

The Battle of Monterrey

Zachary Taylor rode this wave of popularity to a presidential nomination from the Whigs.  As Polk had stepped down rather than serve a second term, it was a golden opportunity for the party--the Democracy lacked a dynamic candidate to run in Polk's place.  Unfortunately for Henry Clay--the most important and prominent Whig--the party worried that he had made too many enemies, and turned to someone else.

Taylor's nomination was more than a little surprising.  The Whigs knew almost nothing about Taylor, except that he was popular, and nominated him without even ensuring that he stood in favor of Whig principles.  His presidency was brief--16 months--and remarkable only for his opposition to slavery in newly-acquired territory (made more surprising by the fact that he was the last president to own slaves while president).  When he died, the even less remarkable Millard Fillmore, a minor politician from Buffalo, became president.

Bauer's book isn't an overly psychological look at Taylor.  He rightly focuses much of his attention on the Mexican War, and his descriptions of the various military encounters are excellent (I think he's a military historian).  I do wish there was more about Zachary Taylor the man, rather than just the general.

LBJ

Robert Dallek -- Lone Star Rising: Lyndon Johnson and His Times, 1908-1960

One thing that amazes me is how much different LBJ was from JFK.  Johnson worked compulsively, pushed those around him to work just as hard as him, and was continually driven to more and more success.  This was, apparently, his personality going back to his days in college.  Kennedy was almost the opposite.  Sure, he was driven to succeed, but his drive really exerted itself after he came home from WWII and stepped into his older brother's shoes.  Kennedy was boyish looking, charming, often laid back, hopeful.  Johnson often appeared (he was only 9 years older than Kennedy), had an overwhelming personality, was incredibly intense, and seemed to worry obsessively .  Johnson was a much, much more successful legislator than Kennedy, but I don't know that he was a better leader.

It's also amazing how different their backgrounds were.  LBJ didn't grow up poor, but his family hit hard financial times, and he lived in a small town in central Texas far away from civilization.  Kennedy grew up with tremendous wealth in a prestigious family living in Boston and New York.  Johnson had to do odd jobs to pay his way through school, and Kennedy went to prep school and then Harvard. 

LBJ was entirely self directed.  He forged his own path in politics and, while he adopted a number of mentors, really called his own shots.  JFK's political goals and strategies were shaped in larger part by his father and his campaigns became family affairs. 

When I put down An Unfinished Life, talking about the legacy of the Kennedys, and immediately pick up Lone Star Rising, and read about dirt farmers without electricity or indoor plumbing, the contrast could not be more stark.

Q

Paul Nagel:  John Quincy Adams: A Public Life, a Private Life
John Quincy Adams:  6th President (1825-1829); b. 1767; d. 1848


John Quincy Adams is certainly one of the more interesting men to be president.  He truly is a bridge between two eras--the revolutionary in which he grew up and first served his country, and the antebellum era/age of Jackson in which he, for decades, continued to serve his country and follow the dictates of his conscience.  The man was brilliant--he spoke seven languages--and was passionately interested in advancing the cause of his country.  But his failings as a politicians limited his abilities as a statesman and ultimately doomed his presidency to failure.  He certainly isn't unique in this regard (is he the Jimmy Carter of the 19th Century?).  But he is unique in many other ways.  And if he wasn't a great president (he wasn't), he was a great American.

Nagel's book is an excellent read.  His book really is about both Quincy Adams's public and private lives, and he gives significant focus to both.  He really attempts to understand the man, who was himself a bundle of contradictions and likely never fully understood himself.  Nagel dives into Quincy Adams's diary and letters, and the letters of those around him.  What we get is a compelling picture of a compelling and driven man who was, at many times, hindered by his ability to truly understand those around him.  The main limitation of Nagel's work is that he devotes only a single chapter to Quincy Adams's presidency--but to be fair, there wasn't too much to say about that topic.  (One also gets the sense that by avoiding Q's greatest failure, Nagel is able to spend more time talking about his triumphs.)  There is a lot of enjoyment and joy in Nagel's work that shines through, and really makes the book compelling.

The Wandering American:  It is perhaps remarkable how much time young Quincy Adams spent abroad.  He spent time with his father in France and the Netherlands as a teenager, spending time in European schools and learning French language and culture (when he applied to Harvard his mother was worried that he spoke French better than English).  When his father returned to North America, he went to Russia as a secretary and spent nearly three years as a teenager in eastern and northern Europe working and traveling without parental oversight.  His reluctance to come home when summoned back--his slow trip through Sweden as he was returning from Russia is a great story of a young man trying to come of age--shows how much he loved living abroad.  After 1789 and his graduation from Harvard, he became minister to the Netherlands and Portugal and helped negotiate the Jay Treaty.  Then, after being a U.S. Senator, he became minister to Russia and England.  His close friendship to the Tsar--they apparently spent many hours together and enjoyed long walks in St. Petersburg--is one of the amazing international friendships in American history.  He met and married his wife (who was an American) in London.  So much of his time was spent amongst the power brokers in the great European capitals that it is difficult to imagine his adjustment to living again in post-colonial Massachusetts.  If he had never been president, he would have been a historical figure along the lines of Henry Clay, and perhaps a step below Alexander Hamilton.  It is almost the case that because he was a poor president, his other accomplishments are forgotten.

The Corrupt Bargain:  He was elected president by the House of Representatives.  This was a transition period in the U.S.--Jacksonian democracy was on the rise, but not yet ascendant.  The fact that he was chosen by the House was not then truly notable--the same occurred in 1800.  But after 1824, more and more electors were chosen by the popular vote, and the presidency would be seen as accountable to the people directly.  He was elected as a man and not as the representative of a party.  This was largely a result of Monroe's crushing success in the era of good feelings.  The Federalists had been destroyed as a functioning party.  Because of that, the Democrats had no enemy and, therefore, many personalities vied for prominence.  This would never again be the case--the other closest example is the Republican ascendency after the Civil War, but then the party apparatus functioned ruthlessly.  And the rumor--likely not true--was that he agreed that if Henry Clay would give his electoral votes to Q, he would be made Secretary of State.  Once Quincy Adams learned of this rumor, he appointed Clay to head State anyway because it was the right decision.  But this tarnished both of their images and helped shatter Quincy Adams's ability to govern.  Ironically, such legislative horse trading would  become par for the course in the party politics that arose after Q left office--but he suffered for it nonetheless. 

The Monroe Doctrine:  Yeah, Quincy Adams wrote it.

Presidency:  Quincy Adams began his presidency by announcing support for national improvements in education, navigation, and internal improvements.  He was ahead of his time in supporting a national system that would improve the lives of all Americans.  And he was destroyed.  The Democrats launched a campaign of obstructionism that prevented him from accomplishing anything.  And Quincy Adams both (a) was unable to personally assert his will with Congress (as Monroe or Johnson would) and (b) lacked an administration that could work with Congress to advance legislation (think of what Van Buren did for Jackson or what Wilson's many advisers did for him). 

Post Presidency:  It's frustrating that modern presidents are essentially put out to pasture when they retire.  Quincy Adams eventually returned to the House where he was a distinguished representative who spoke forcefully in favor of abolition, was a lawyer in the Amistad case, and worked with Abraham Lincoln.  And he died in the House--literally in the House of Representatives.  Q collapsed during a speech and died in the Speaker's office.

Warren Gamaliel Harding

Samuel Hopkins Adams:  Incredible Era:  The Life and Times of Warren Gamaliel Harding

Warren Gamaliel Harding:  29th President (1921-1923); b. 1865; d. 1923

Warren Harding--best remembered as the name of Ralph's school in Christmas Story.  And I can certainly understand why people would rather forget.

One of the most interesting aspects of this book is that Adams is unabashedly critical in his assessment of Harding and his administration.  Adams was a journalist who was active during Harding’s administration, and this book was published only a few years after Harding’s death.  The books is not, therefore, a purely scholarly and detached assessment of Harding’s career.  The book’s focus is on the incredible scandals that occurred during Harding’s watch and the way in which these scandals ruined his legacy and affected the nation.

Harding himself is an interesting character.  He was truly out of his league as president.  His background was humble—as was that of many presidents—and he married a divorcee, a la Andrew Jackson.  What’s interesting is that he entered politics in part because it was enjoyable and in part because of his wife’s prodding (and his own desire to show his father-in-law that he was worthy of marrying the man’s daughter).  He was an able campaigner, and was a genuinely likable guy—he thus appears to have got along well in legislative politics.  

But Harding had no principled stances and no agenda.  He didn’t stand for anything.  He appears to have had no interests in major domestic issues or foreign policy.  He didn’t have any favored interest groups.  It appears that he rose to the senate because he was popular with Ohio Republicans and had no controversial positions (because he had none).  He did some good things--his arms control conference was much heralded internationally, he helped keep the budget under control, and tried to improve tariff policy.  But this appears to be ad hoc policy making in response to issues more than proactive attempt at change.

His nomination was a display of the real power of the Republican machine.  While there were other unlikely presidents from unlikely nominations (Garfield; Cleveland), this guy really did kind of come out of nowhere.  You could see this as an indictment of the then-existing nomination process, but do we do much better now?

The books is really about the scandals, and those were incredible.  If a sitting cabinet member now accepted a literal bag filled with cash in exchange for allowing a corporation to pump oil from government reserves, it would be a bonanza—this would be a scandal of unprecedented importance.  If it so happened that the sitting attorney general actively hindered investigations into these and other activities and FBI officers harassed US Senators investigating such activities, it would be even bigger.  And if a high-ranking government official, and personal friend of the president, was getting generous kick-backs for selling medical supplies to corporate interests for pennies on the dollars while wounded soldiers went without, he might be assassinated.  But this was how it went under Harding.  I think about some of the more recent governmental scandals under Nixon and Clinton and the industry capture of executive agencies under Bush II, but nothing approaches the audacity of selling the people’s property for personal gain.

Harding's cabinet had some powerhouses in it--Charles Evans Hughes, Hoover, and Andrew Mellon--but he never seems to have harnessed them for any great purpose.

And let’s not forget Harding’s extended affair with a much younger woman and resulting love child.  This certainly makes him a more human and interesting character.  But it does seem to speak to his lack of moral fortitude, especially when he continued on with the affair knowing that his wife was aware of what was going on.  Perhaps the best result of this was that it fueled speculation that Harding's wife poisoned him.

William Henry Harrison

Robert M. Owens:  Mr. Jefferson's Hammer: William Henry Harrison and the Origins of American Indian Policy

William Henry Harrison:  9th President (1841); b. 1773; d. 1841

Poor William Henry Harrison.  He made it all the way to the presidency, and then died 32 days into his first term.  His presidency is only interesting because of the people around him.  He was the first Whig president—and was nominated because the Whigs were confident that they could beat Van Buren following the panic of 1837 and wanted someone “electable.”  Henry Clay was the party’s leader but had made too many enemies in his decades of service.  No one really knew anything about Harrison, so nominated—and elected—he was.  His vice president was a Democrat, and when Harrison died John Tyler refused to cooperate with the Whigs that had made him Veep and made enemies out of pretty much everyone in Washington.  Daniel Webster was offered the number two job on the Harrison ticket, but turned it down because he thought it was an unimportant job—if only he knew how decrepit old Harrison was he might have taken the job.

The military uniform was painted on later.

The book itself is a very solid piece of historical research.  As far as readability, it suffers from density.  The chapters are packed tightly with information, and tend to be lengthy, but rather than offering breaks or sub-headings, Owens powers through each one straight through to the end.  To be honest, much of the material is rather dry—information about the various forts throughout the frontier at which Harrison served and his steady climb through the army.  By contrast, much of the work is fascinating—the central focus of the book, on the interactions between the plains Indians and the American settlers is compelling.  A little more storytelling could have elevated the work.  The book ends prior to Harrison’s presidential campaign and presidency, which I covered in works about Clay, Van Buren, and John Tyler.

The New South:  One notable topic is the linkage between the South—Virginia in particular—and much of the Midwest.  I think of Indiana as a cold, northern state.  But it, and much of southern Ohio, was tied to the South through river travel and was settled by Virginians.  Harrison owned slaves, as did many in Ohio.  And Harrison’s own work in the Jefferson administration is fascinating, if not just for learning about Harrison, but for the ways that Virginians viewed territorial expansion across the Appalachians.  This also suggests how small the country was in the late 1700's and early 1800's.  Harrison's dad knew Jefferson because they were both prominent Virginians.  When we talk about leaders of any of the colonies, all of the prominent people knew each other--they just did.  This isn't the case today.  The leading lawyers of even a small city don't all know each other, and they're not all on speaking terms with area politicians and businessmen.

Tecumseh:  I think we forget two things about the Indian Wars.  The first is how entrenched the Indians were in the Midwest in the late 1700s.  There were nations of people that lived in these areas that were slowly and inexorably pushed west.  And these were nations—they had governments and leaders and defined cultures and languages.  We also forget how vital these nations were in protecting their own interests.  I’m really reminded of the Goths and Celts of northern and western Europe during the expansion of Rome—these nations were mobile and fluid, and actively sought alliances between larger powers to advance their own interest.  It’s a mistake to see them as passive or victims of historical forces—they were active participants in historic events.  Harrison’s role in the expansion of the United States into areas previously controlled by Indian tribes was significant.  He was sometimes brave—he was a veteran of the Indian Wars and the War of 1812—sometimes diplomatic—he held a number of conferences as his own home—and in the end effective.

James A. Garfileld

Candice Millard: Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President
James A. Garfield: 20th President (Mar. 4-Sept. 19, 1881); b. 1831; d. 1881

James A. Garfield was truly an interesting historical person, and this is a great book to read.  Garfield had one of the shortest presidencies ever--he was shot on July 2, 1881 and held on to life for over two months before dying on September 19.  Millard's book focuses almost entirely on Garfield's assassination.  The book focuses on Charles Guiteau, Garfield's assassin; Dr. William Bliss, Garfield's treating physician; and Alexander Graham Bell, who invented the metal detector for use in locating the bullet in Garfield's body.

Millard's book is a very easy read.  It's a piece of popular history written for a general audience, but she does and excellent job of providing historical detail about her characters and weaving them into a larger historical narrative.  She provides some background about Garfield himself, but more background information would be appreciated.  (To be fair, she's only half writing this as a presidential biography, so it's natural that she would only provided limited detail on Garfield's personal history, which could scare off potential readers.)  Millard has also chosen an excellent subject.  This was a dramatic event in American history, the details of which are enlightening, interesting, and completely unknown to most people.

Garfield is one of those presidents about whom I would read more (and hopefully will at some future time).  He's a compelling American.  He's similar to Hayes (about whom I read a gigantic tome), but appears to have been more personable and to have read a more interesting life.  Or perhaps I'm grasping at straws because these late 19th century Republicans are pretty boring.

Dark Horse Candidate:  James Garfield truly was a dark horse for the Republicans in 1880.  John Sherman of Ohio and James Blaine or Maine (as well as U.S. Grant) were candidates of national stature, each of whom had supporters going into the convention.  Garfield had served seven terms in the House, but wasn't a national figure--he hadn't spearheaded any significant legislation or undertaken many other actions to bring attention to himself.  He was an able and well-liked moderate Republican.  Garfield, a Buckeye, actually gave the nominating speech for Sherman.  But delegates were more impressed with Garfield's speech than they were by Sherman, and a strong groundswell moved for Garfield's election.  It does not appear that Garfield did anything to support his own candidacy--in fact, it appears that he was opposed to the idea and genuinely objected to his own nomination at every step.  But as it had been when Lincoln suggested that he enter congress rather than stay in the army during the Civil War (he was originally elected while serving as a Major General of Volunteers and, as in 1880, didn't campaign for himself), Garfield served when he was summoned.

One Major Victory:  Garfield began his campaign with a major victory.  When he refused to concede to Senator Conkling's demands regarding New York patronage, Conkling and Senator Platt (also of NY) both resigned.  But when they went back to the New York state legislature, neither was reelected.  Platt would see future success as a Senator from New York, but Conkling's career was effectively over (although Arthur would submit his name for the U.S. Supreme Court, but Conkling turned the post down after being nominated).  It's easy to speculate that Garfield could have had additional victories that would have improved his country.  He was a strong supporter of civil service reform, providing increased educational opportunities, and believed in protecting civil rights for blacks. 

I am a Stalwart of the Stalwarts!

Assassination:  Garfield's assassination is the heart of Millard's book and, tragically for someone with Garfield's abilities, probably the thing he is most known for.  But the story itself is fascinating, and Millard does an excellent job telling it.  She focuses on three characters.

Looks crazy to me.

-- Charles Guiteau.  Fascinating man.  Lived in a utopian community, was married briefly and recklessly cheated on his wife, was admitted to the bar but failed miserably as a lawyer, and eventually just traveled from place to place and lived by begging for loans or taking credit that he never paid back.  When he traveled to Washington in 1881, it appears that he genuinely thought he'd be given a consulate in Europe because of some crappy speech he gave during the election.  He was unquestionably mentally ill, and when he shot Garfield he believed that people would thank him for saving the republic . 

  -- Dr. Doctor Willard Bliss.  Millard renders a terrible judgment against Bliss, who rejected Pasteur and the "theory of germs" and unquestionably caused more harm to Garfield that he did good.  I'm often reluctant to judge historical actors based on modern standards of conduct.  But it appears that Bliss not only did a terrible, terrible job caring for Garfield, but also hid his malpractice by keeping the President hidden away from view (and from other doctors).  Garfield suffered terribly and needlessly at Bliss's hands.  (The takeaway is never trust a doctor whose first name is Doctor.)

-- Alexander Graham Bell.  We get a nice portrait of him here.  I love the idea of America's scientific genius rushing to create new inventions to save the life of the president.  (Think of Bill Gates rushing to create a supercomputer to save Obama, who has been crippled by an assassin's bullet.)  It's like something from a novel, but it's true.  And Bell's efforts resulted in the metal detector.

The Republicans Ran America:  I could note this in a number of places, but I'll do it here.  From Lincoln through Teddy Roosevelt, the nationally active members of the Republican Party ran the United States.  I know that Cleveland had two terms in there, but he was such a political loner that it there didn't really emerge other national-level leaders from the Democracy.  I find two things about this interesting.  (1) The way in which a number of men were active in foreign and fiscal policy across multiple administrations.  (2) The importance of New York as a swing state and, thus, the importance of New York's political bosses in shaping national politics.  Some men of note are the following.

-- John Sherman.  Strong supporter of the war effort as a U.S. Senator and in the house.  He was Treasury Secretary under Hayes (where he strengthened the currency in 1879) and a Secretary of State for a time under McKinley.  He was multiple times a candidate for president.  As a senator he also helped create the Sherman Anti-Trust Act (which is still a critically important law).

James G. Blaine of Maine.

-- James Blaine.  He was the Speaker of the House in the 1870s and Secretary of State under both Garfield (he resigned shortly after Arthur took the job, but was active in South America and Hawaii) and Harrison (he was sick much of the time, but worked on the Pan-America conference and disputes with Germany and England).  Blaine also spent significant time in the Senate.  He was also a candidate for president multiple times.

-- Roscoe Conkling.  He was the Republican boss of New York for the 1870s and 1880s.  By controlling New York patronage through his relationship with Grant he held significant power.  He was also a reckless womanizer.

-- Thomas Platt and Elihu Root were senators from New York after Conkling.  Root was active in foreign affairs, being Secretary of State under T.R. and Secretary of War under McKinley.  Platt was one of the most powerful men ever in New York politics.

All the while, the party had diverse, often conflicting opinions on important issues.  It was a strongly unionist party, which had no support in the states of the old Confederacy.  It was generally in favor of black civil rights, but hostile (often prejudicial) to Catholics.  It was dominated by monied interests on Wall Street, but also had a strong social reformist element including teetotalers and other similar people.  And it had the strongest reformers, but also the people most committed to patronage politics.  The tariff issue often split the party, as did issues relating to greenbacks and free silver.