Polk by Walter Borneman
While Walter McDougall's Promised Land, Crusader State was not entirely successful as a survey of American foreign policy, his chapter on Manifest Destiny alerted me to an amazing bit of history of which I was previously unaware: President James K. Polk, in just one term, presided over the American territorial expansion into what became Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, California, Oregon, and Washington.
I was aware of the general scope of the expansion, but not the condensed time frame. And I probably could have identified Polk with the Mexican-American War if a game of Trivial Pursuit forced the question. But that is about it for the era between Jackson and Lincoln. With my curiosity piqued, and a 40% off coupon for Borders in my hand, I bought Polk, Walter Borneman's new biography of our eleventh President.
Early last year I read Borneman's The French and Indian War, and found it to be a serviceable but superficial survey of that conflict (for a better short history, try William Fowler's Empires at War). I am happy to report that his latest book is far superior, and is the best short presidential biography I have read.
As Borneman mentions late in the book, Polk's historical reputation in the past fifty years has been rather positive. Each time someone tries to rank the Presidents, Polk falls somewhere between 8th and 14th. Not too shabby when you've got Lincoln, Washington, Roosevelt and Jefferson out in front. In evaluating his presidency, I think two things stand out as particularly striking: first, during his first campaign he committed himself to one term, and he stood by that commitment; second, he laid out very explicit goals for that one term, and he achieved them. The self-imposed term limit was in part a political maneuver:
In later years, a pledge by a candidate that he would seek only one term as president would become almost unthinkable, but in 1844, there was both political pressure and precedent to make such a statement. The Whigs had long called for a one-term presidency, not only because it fit Henry Clay's vision of limited executive government but also because it was a rallying cry against the prospects of eight years of another Jackson
William Henry Harrison made the pledge in his inaugural, then promptly died. Polk chose to make the pledge in his letter accepting the Democratic nomination and "[t]hus, in a single paragraph, Polk neatly neutralized Henry Clay and his Whigs on the issue of a one-term presidency." There is no telling how much difference this made, but it is worth noting that Polk essentially won the presidency when a mere 5,000 vote plurality in New York got him its 36 crucial electoral votes. Borneman makes clear that this was not an empty campaign promise for Polk, however:
Indeed, despite Polk's arduous pursuit of the presidency throughout his political career, there is no evidence to suggest that ever contemplated reversing his one-term pledge. As in so many other things, James K. Polk determined a course and stuck with it.
One reason he may not have wavered was that "the four main objectives of his presidency had been realized." And these were not broad, abstract objectives. According to George Bancroft, Polk's contemporary, cabinet member, and future historian, Polk held a meeting shortly after taking the oath of office, and laid out the concrete goals of his presidency:
If Bancroft's memory was correct, Polk "raised his hand high in the air and bringing it down with force on his thigh" confided to Bancroft the "four great measures" of his administration. First, with Texas at last on the road to statehood, the "joint occupation" of Oregon had to be settled with Great Britain. Second, with the flanks of Oregon and Texas secure, the continent must be rounded out by the acquisition of California and "a large district on the coast." Third, the tariff, so onerous to the southern states, must be reduced to a revenue basis, and last, an independent treasury, immune from the banking schemes of recent years, must be established.
He succeeded in each ambition. And while he is most remembered for success in the expansionist foreign policy goals, and the war fought to achieve them, all four achievements stand out as remarkable considering the tremendous party and sectional divides shaking the country. It is fortunate for Polk that he achieved what he wanted within his single term. Pledge or no pledge, his health had deteriorated so much during his presidency that he was to die just 103 days after leaving office, the shortest post-presidency in American history. He would not live to see slavery, an issue underlying much of the domestic political conflict in his own time, tear the country asunder.
While Polk is naturally the focus of the book, Borneman does endeavor to paint a broader picture of the political landscape that preceded and succeeded Polk's rise to power. In so doing, he covers a period of American political history that has remained a mystery to most Americans, myself included. Borneman shares an anecdote about the gaps in his own knowledge that many of us can relate to:
By my third-grade year, my grandfather was tutoring me in the presidents of the United States, as well as the starting lineup of the Cleveland Indians. The presidential list was shorter then -- when you got to Eisenhower, you were finished -- but I had particular trouble with the eight names between Andrew Jackson and Abraham Lincoln. Martin Van Buren was easy enough, and I could remember William Henry Harrison. But who came next?Patiently, Grandpa repeated the names and had me recite them in a particular cadence: Tyler, Polk, Taylor -- pause -- Fillmore, Pierce, Buchanan. It wasn't long before I could rattle them off with barely a pause, but for years, the men behind the names were to me what they have remained to many people: a blur. Interestingly enough, however, most of these men interacted with each other for decades during one of the most turbulent yet dynamic eras of American history.
This is where Borneman really excels. In order to make sense of Polk's career, Borneman tries to sort out the chaos that was antebellum politics. In so doing he gives vivid sketches of the old power brokers like John Quincy Adams and Polk's mentor, Andrew Jackson, Polk's contemporary competitors like John Calhoun and Henry Clay, and the long list of those who had ambitions to succeed him. This list included everyone from his generals (Zachary Taylor, Winfield Scott) to his cabinet (James Buchanan).
Borneman's book is a perfect length at 360 pages; while there could have been more analysis of westward migration, or the war with Mexico, or the brewing turmoil of abolitionism, these are topics best left for separate volumes. Borneman covers them adequately for purposes of discussing Polk's presidency. And the book is not just a biography of one president; it is a solid introduction to the political history of the times.


