Review of Polk: the Man Who Transformed the Presidency and America by Walter R Borneman

James Knox Polk, the eleventh president of the United States, is generally known for two things:  for being a “dark horse” presidential candidate (the first in American history), and for being the president who presided over the Mexican-American War and the subsequent addition of hundreds of thousands of square miles of territory to the United States. In Polk: the Man Who Transformed the Presidency and America, historian Walter R Borneman argues two main points: that candidate Polk was anything but a “dark horse”, and that President Polk was one of the most successful and influential Chief Executives not only of the nineteenth century, but of all time.

In his brief narration of Polk’s early life and political career prior to the election of 1844, Borneman stresses Polk’s great intelligence and ambition.  Polk, a protégé of Andrew Jackson, became a US congressman at the age of 30, Speaker of the House at 40, and governor of Tennessee at 44. Polk was given serious consideration for the Democratic vice presidential nomination in 1840.  Fortunately for him, however, the party chose someone else.  Had Polk been the nominee, his party’s crushing defeat might have ended his presidential aspirations. 

Borneman’s narration of the 1844 campaign, with all its twists and turns, is thorough and entertaining.  The divided Democrats at first could not agree on a single candidate, with each region of the country supporting its own “favorite son.”  Eventually, Polk emerged as an alternative candidate that all regions could get behind (his being supported by Jackson certainly did not hurt his cause, either).  Borneman repeatedly argues that Polk, although he was initially not seen as a serious candidate, was nonetheless not a “dark horse.”  His having been Speaker of the House, Governor of Tennessee, and a much-talked-about possible vice presidential candidate in 1840 meant that he was hardly unknown in 1844.

Borneman devotes the second half of the book to Polk’s presidency, which he sees as a strong one.  He gives Polk high praise for being the only president to keep all of his campaign promises, which in Polk’s case were to acquire Texas, acquire Oregon, lower tariffs, and establish an independent Treasury.  While there is no doubt that President Polk did indeed achieve these goals, Borneman gives Polk perhaps too much credit for the first two, downplaying the work that Polk’s predecessor John Tyler and his administration did to prepare the way.  Borneman also gives Polk much credit for acquiring the Mexican Cession, which greatly increased the size of the United States, but he leaves aside the dubious morality of that action and its impact on Mexicans, Indians, and other non-whites.

Borneman’s portrait of Polk is highly positive, almost to the point of being hagiographic.  In spite of this, it is a very engaging read and an excellent overview of Polk’s life, his presidency, and the events of the 1830s and 1840s.  For readers seeking an introduction to these topics, Borneman’s biography is a great place to start.

Review of John Tyler: The Accidental President by Edward Crapol

Like his predecessor William Henry Harrison, John Tyler is unknown to most Americans, even many educated ones.  He receives scant attention in a typical U. S. History course, and when he is mentioned, he is credited with little more than being the first vice president to succeed to the White House upon the death of the sitting president.  Tyler is often portrayed as a caretaker president who accomplished little of significance.

In John Tyler: the Accidental President, historian Edward Crapol argues that while Tyler may not deserve to be counted among one of our greatest or most significant presidents, the traditional view of Tyler is far from the truth.  Crapol discusses several of Tyler and his administration’s significant achievements, while at the same time not shying away from pointing out the flaws of “His Accidency.”

Like many of his presidential predecessors, John Tyler was born to wealth and privilege.  The son of a wealthy planter, judge and member of the Virginia House of Delegates, Tyler entered politics as a young man. He was voted to the House of Delegates at age 21, the US House of Representatives at 26, the Governorship of Virginia at 35, and the US Senate at 37, and finally the Vice Presidency of the United States at 50.  When President William Henry Harrison died after only a month in office, Tyler took the unprecedented step of assuming both the title and the responsibilities of president. 

With such a long career in public service, Tyler was well-prepared for the presidency, and his future must have seemed bright indeed.  But one inconvenient fact helped ensure that Tyler would be a one-term president.  Politically, Tyler was a disciple of the Jeffersonian small government and states’ rights tradition; as such he naturally joined the Democratic Party when it was founded.  Due to his opposition to some of Andrew Jackson’s policies, however, Tyler left the party and joined the Whigs, despite having little in common with them philosophically.  Upon becoming president, Tyler made it clear he was a Whig in name only; as a result, the party expelled him.  Tyler tried to make common cause with the Democrats and to gain their nomination for president in 1844, but the party, still heavily under the influence of Jackson, rejected Tyler’s overtures.

Despite being a virtual lame duck president for nearly his entire term, Tyler and his administration made several important contributions to our nation’s history.  First, he “moved to strengthen and modernize the American navy,” beginning the process of shifting to a steamship navy.  Second, he helped reduce tensions with Great Britain (which were high in 1841), presiding over the signing of the 1842 Webster-Ashburton Treaty, which, among other things, permanently set the northeastern boundary between the U. S. and Canada.  Third, Tyler expanded U. S. contact with the Pacific, bringing Hawaii into the American sphere of influence and establishing trade relations with China for the first time.  Fourth, Tyler and his administration did most of the work to bring Texas into the U. S., making it relatively simple for his successor James Polk to complete the process.  For all of these accomplishments, Crapol argues, Tyler should be seen as a strong president, not the caretaker that many take him to have been.

Despite these important accomplishments, Tyler had several flaws and contradictions.  Despite being ideologically a Jeffersonian, committed to states’ rights and a weak central government, he strengthened presidential power and occasionally undermined that of the states.  And even though he had qualms about the morality of slavery, he defended the “peculiar institution” with vigor, going as far as to eventually join the Confederacy and thus become the only former U. S. president to be branded a traitor and to not have his death acknowledged by the U. S. government.

John Tyler: the Accidental President is an engaging and highly informative read.  In only 283 pages, Crapol succeeds admirably in bringing to life not only John Tyler the man, but also his accomplishments and failures, as well as the key happenings in late antebellum America.  Anyone interested in gaining an understanding of American politics in the early 1840s could hardly to better than to begin with this outstanding book.