Political Recollections | Page 5

waters, waters, waters, On it will go, And in
its course will clear the way For Tippecanoe and Tyler too--Tippecanoe

and Tyler too; And with them we'll beat little Van, Van, Van; Van is a
used up man; And with them we'll beat little Van.
The famous "ball" alluded to in this song originated with the Whigs of
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