Political Recollections | Page 5

Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, and was sent by them to a Mass Convention held at Baltimore. It was ten or twelve feet in diameter, and upon the ends of it, on blue ground, were stars corresponding in number with the States of the Union. On its wide spaces of red and white stripes various inscriptions were made, including the following, which belongs to the poetry and music of the campaign:
With heart and soul This ball we roll; May times improve As on we move.
This Democratic ball Set rolling first by Benton, Is on another track From that it first was sent on.
Farewell, dear Van, You're not our man; To guide the ship, We'll try old Tip.
The following, sung to the tune of "Old Rosin the Bow," was quite as popular:
Come ye who, whatever betide her, To Freedom have sworn to be true, Prime up with a cup of hard cider, And drink to old Tippecanoe.
On top I've a cask of as good, sir, As man from the tap ever drew; No poison to cut up your blood, sir, But liquor as pure as the dew.
Parched corn men can't stand it much longer, Enough is as much as we'll bear; With Tip at our head, in October, We'll tumble Van out of the chair.
Then ho! for March fourth, forty-one, boys, We'll shout till the heavens' arched blue Shall echo hard cider and fun, boys, Drink, drink, to old Tippecanoe.
The following kindred verses will be familiar to everybody who remembers the year 1840:
Ye jolly young lads of Ohio, And all ye sick Vanocrats, too, Come out from among the foul party, And vote for old Tippecanoe.
Good men from the Van jacks are flying, Which makes them look kinder askew, For they see they are joining the standard With the hero of Tippecanoe.
They say that he lived in a cabin, And lived on old cider, too; Well, what if he did? I'm certain He's the hero of Tippecanoe.
I give the following verses of one of the best, which used to be sung with tremendous effect:
The times are bad, and want curing; They are getting past all enduring; Let us turn out Martin Van Buren, And put in old Tippecanoe. The best thing we can do, Is to put in old Tippecanoe.
It's a business we all can take part in, So let us give notice to Martin That he must get ready for sartin', For we'll put in old Tippecanoe. The best thing we can do Is to put in old Tippecanoe.
We've had of their humbugs a plenty; For now all our pockets are empty; We've a dollar now where we had twenty, So we'll put in old Tippecanoe. The best thing we can do, Is to put in old Tippecanoe.
The following verses are perfectly characteristic:
See the farmer to his meal Joyfully repair; Crackers, cheese and cider, too, A hard but homely fare.
Martin to his breakfast comes At the hour of noon; Sipping from a china cup, With a golden spoon.
Martin's steeds impatient wait At the palace door; Outriders behind the coach And lackeys on before.
After the State election in Maine, a new song appeared, which at once became a favorite, and from which I quote the following:
And have you heard the news from Maine, And what old Maine can do? She went hell bent for Governor Kent, And Tippecanoe and Tyler too, And Tippecanoe and Tyler too.
Such was this most remarkable Whig campaign, with its monster meetings and music, its infinite drolleries, its rollicking fun, and its strong flavor of political lunacy. As to the canvass of the Democrats, the story is soon told. In all points it was the reverse of a success. The attempt to manufacture enthusiasm failed signally. They had neither fun nor music in their service, and the attempt to secure them would have been completely overwhelmed by the flood on the other side. It was a melancholy struggle, and constantly made more so by the provoking enthusiasm and unbounded good humor of the Whigs. It ended as a campaign of despair, while its humiliating catastrophe must have awakened inexpressible disappointment and disgust both among the leaders and masses of the party.
This picture of party politics, forty-three years ago, is not very flattering to our American pride, but it simply shows the working of Democratic institutions in dealing with the "raw material" of society and life at that time. The movement of 1840 was necessarily transient and provisional, while underneath its clatter and nonsense was a real issue. It was unrecognized by both parties, but it made its advent, and the men who pointed its way quietly served notice upon the country of their ulterior purposes.
As long ago as the year 1817, Charles Osborn had established an anti-slavery newspaper in Ohio, entitled "The Philanthropist," which was followed in 1821 by