William Henry Harrison

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

Tier 5

First, I must apologize to all of you. I missed Mr. Harrison. I suppose I was too eager to get to John Tyler and just skipped right by him. In a way, this is quite appropriate given his short term of office, but I do apologize.

Something I’ve mentioned before (and will mention again) about reading presidential biographies is learning that the man is not defined solely by his term in office. You learn about who the person was before and after they served as President. Most have uneventful post-presidencies, but they all bring something with them into it: baggage, reputation, an aura. There’s something that drove them to the highest land in the office.

This is important to remember as this week’s President, William Henry Harrison, died just thirty-one days into his term. This is still the shortest presidency we’ve had, and it’s a record I think unlikely to be broken any time soon. As such, Harrison is defined more by his death than his life. Some may say this is unfair, but that’s the life of a public figure. You don’t always get to shape your legacy.

I don’t mean to be harsh, as I know how difficult it is to write a book, but I have to say this one wasn’t good. It was flat and plodding, and I felt Owens was trying to attach Harrison to other more interesting figures (most notably Jefferson). I understand he thought his subject lacked the gravitas to carry a biography, but that’s the historian's job.

Harrison is known historically for a few things.

First, his death. Thirty-one days is not a long time. It’s so short that he’s often omitted from presidential rankings. His death was brought on by not wearing a coat and hat, giving mothers everywhere solid evidence for their claims that you’ll catch your death of cold. It seems he got caught in a rainstorm and refused to change out of his wet clothes upon returning to the White House. The treatment that followed is almost comically absurd – bloodletting, heated cups applied to the skin, mustard plaster on his stomach, laxatives, castor oil, inducing vomiting. He contracted pneumonia, and after severe diarrhea combined with other symptoms, he passed away. These events happened so early in his presidency that his wife was still in Ohio, packing to come to Washington.

His death made him the first president to die in office—a dubious honor for sure, but a legacy all the same. There was a bit of a scramble to decide who would succeed him as President, as there was some debate regarding the wording of this clause in the Constitution. The argument centered on whether the Vice President became the President or whether they simply remained Vice President, with all the powers and duties of the office of the President.

This seems obvious to us now, but it caused a great deal of discussion at the time. John Tyler, his Vice President, obviously fought to become President, and the argument was short-lived. This set a precedent that has been observed in every succession since then.

Second, his presidential campaign. “Tippecanoe and Tyler Too” is an undeniably catchy slogan that still rings well today. But it isn’t only this slogan that demonstrates the lasting memory of this campaign. It introduced several campaign tactics that are still prevalent today.

One of these tactics was the idea of mass rallies held in various locals. This wasn’t an aspect of campaigning before Harrison and is now commonplace.

Another was a wide distribution of campaign materials. He had people hand out pamphlets, banners, and buttons (often using his slogans).

And the final, and perhaps most consequential, was the idea of framing a candidate as an everyman. Harrison was born wealthy to a plantation owner in Virginia but painted himself as an outsider who came from nothing to achieve success in the wild frontier. They homed in on criticism from the Van Buren camp that Harrison would rather “sit in his log cabin drinking hard cider” than run the country. Harrison’s campaign used this to appeal to the everyman, framing their candidate as one of the people opposing the wealthy elitist Van Buren. Sound familiar?

Finally, Harrison is remembered for shaping what we now know as the Upper Midwest. He conducted treaties with and military campaigns against Native American tribes in those areas, securing vast tracts of land for the United States. As you can imagine, Harrison was not kind to the Native people who lived on those lands. He’d negotiate with one tribe (who often didn’t even live on the land in question) and then move to eradicate any other tribes living there. Some of these actions were instrumental in the start of the War of 1812. As with most of his contemporaries, Harrison had little regard for the lives of American Indians, and his policies were in keeping with that indifference bordering on hatred.

That’s basically all I’ve got on Harrison. His grandson would also go on to be president, but we’re not there just yet. Don’t read this book.