Andrew Jackson – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

Texas independence was a key moment in the United States’ westward expansion

A rare March 1836 printed account of Mexican President Antonio López de Santa Anna’s operations in Texas during the Revolution, with specific mention of events at the Alamo, sold for $16,730 at a December 2007 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Early on March 6, 1836, the noise of assembling an infantry and the clamor of a cavalry preparing for battle sliced through the darkness as clouds covered the moonlight. Their assault targets were the adobe walls of a 118-year-old mission founded by Roman Catholic missionaries. Inside were no more than 200 armed men commanded by Lieutenant Colonel William Barret Travis, including David Crockett and Jim Bowie. (March 6 was James Bowie’s 40th birthday and before he gained fame for the knife.) For 12 days, this small group (called Texicans) had been successful in slowing Mexican President Antonio López de Santa Anna and his 3,000 troops.

Finally, the Mexican troops were ready and raised the bloody red and white flag that signified that no quarter would be allowed. Then Mexican bugles blared the notes of the chilling “Degüello” and four groups were stationed around the Alamo to ensure that no one escaped alive. Their first assault was repulsed as was the second attempt. Then the attacking troops reformed and breached the walls. Within a matter of minutes, no Texicans were left alive. One popular legend survives that claims the wife of a lieutenant – Susan Dickerson and an infant daughter – were spared. President Santa Anna saluted her as she fled to safety.

According to international law, the Mexican military was well within their sovereign rights. The Alamo, and for that matter 100 percent of Texas, was legally Mexican territory. That included thousands of other Americans scattered from the Brazos to the Sabine River, who were challenging the legal authority of the official government.

For the previous 300 years, Spain had occupied Mexico as a colony known as Nueva España (New Spain). Much of this colonial area consisted of remnants of the remarkable Aztec Empire. In 1493, Pope Alexander VI (1492-1503) had issued Papal bulls that effectively granted Spain the exclusive right to explore the seas and claim all New World lands discovered by Columbus in his trips to the areas near North America. In return, Spain agreed to spread Christianity and the Catholic Church.

When the Mexicans initiated a war of independence, it was further complicated by European politics, Napoleon’s ambitions and aspirations from France. However, Mexico was fully committed to freedom and finally achieved their freedom from Spain. It was the first of several colonies whose independence was recognized by Spain. Ecuador was the second colony after Mexico to gain freedom. But the capture of the Alamo was not the beginning of peace. Less than two months later on April 21, 1836, Sam Houston and 800 Texans defeated Santa Anna at the Battle of San Jacinto and the birth of the Republic of Texas was established.

Texas was annexed by the United States on Dec. 29, 1845, and admitted to the Union as the 28th state the same day. This was the action that precipitated the Mexican-American War (1846-1848).

Meanwhile, U.S. politics evolved into a rough, highly partisan affair as the country expanded west. Andrew Jackson served two terms as president and was followed by Vice President Martin Van Buren in 1836. However, the Panic of 1837, a financial crisis, soon engulfed the entire country. It ignited a major depression with profits, prices and wages all in a steep decline. An increase in unemployment created a national malaise and when banks raised interest rates, it extended the duration of the economic duress.

The country naturally blamed Van Buren and in 1840 turned to a military man to provide the leadership they hungered for. They picked General William Henry Harrison on a slogan of “Tippecanoe and Tyler too.” When Harrison died 30 days later, Vice President John Tyler quickly assumed the full powers of the presidency since there were no precise legal rules regarding succession and he thwarted any suggestions that he was only a temporary president pending another election. Tyler was the first vice president to succeed to the presidency without an election.

However, President Tyler soon lost the support of Congress when he attempted to assume legislative powers. He suffered the embarrassment of being the first president to have legislation overturned by Congressional veto. In 1844, Van Buren made a second try to win back the presidency and failed. Then the momentum shifted to younger upstarts like Henry Clay and James K. Polk, who had been elected to the House of Representatives seven times and would become the first and only Speaker of the House to become president.

Polk had long been considered Andy Jackson’s favorite since they had been born 20 miles apart in the Carolinas frontier. Polk had definitely been born in North Carolina, however, when Jackson was born 28 years earlier, there was no formal line between North and South Carolina. Jackson’s mother was never positive about exactly where her son had been born. Jackson just claimed it was North Carolina and no one ever had the nerve to challenge him (over anything) since they would be standing 10 steps away with a gun in their hand.

President Polk boldly proclaimed the policy of the United States was to be continental expansion. He welcomed Texas into the Union, bluffed the British out of one-half of Oregon and went to war with Mexico to grab California (and the gold) and a big chunk of the Southwest. He had announced his intention to serve only one term even before the election. As a formal lame duck, he was willing to spend his political capital freely and he expanded the powers of the presidency more than anyone before the Civil War. Although labeled a “dark horse” president, it’s hard to match it with his record. He chose to ride boldly across the bright new land and opened up the American West to a century of unbridled expansion.

A man of his word, he served just a single term in office. He had only been 49 at his inauguration – the youngest president up till then – and died a short 103 days after leaving office. His mother Jane was the first presidential mother to survive her son in life.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

Presidential elections routinely deliver twists of fate

This Martin Van Buren rectangular sulfide sold for $11,250 at a February 2015 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The Republic of Texas became an independent sovereign state on March 3, 1836. The United States recognized the legitimacy of the republic, but declined to annex the territory until Dec. 29, 1845, when it also became the 28th state. However, after the 1860 election of Republican Abraham Lincoln, the state of Texas, with a population that was about 30 percent Blacks (predominantly slaves), seceded from the Union. In 1861, Texas joined the Confederate States of America.

The well-known slogan “Six Flags over Texas” refers to the nations that governed Texas: Spain, France, Mexico, the Republic of Texas, the United States and the Southern Confederacy. Some historians claim that the last battle of the Civil War was fought in Texas at the Battle of Palmito Ranch on May 12-13, 1865. This may be technically correct, but it was after General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox (April 9) and President Jefferson Finis Davis dissolved the Confederacy (May 9). They also point out that the battle was a Confederate victory, which seems irrelevant.

Today, Texas is the second-largest state by area (Alaska is No. 1) and second largest in population (No. 1 is California).

The annexation of Texas occurred during the time the United States was rapidly expanding into the geographic area that would become the “Lower 48,” but deeply divided over the slavery issue that would plague national politics. The two-party system was still in an embryonic stage and hybrid political affiliations would result in unusual national elections.

A prime example is Martin Van Buren, vice president for Andrew Jackson from 1833-37 and the eighth man to serve in that position. In the election of 1836, he became the eighth president of the United States and the first to have been born (1782) after the American Revolution.

The election of 1836 was unusual since the recently formed Whig party was still sufficiently disorganized to the point they couldn’t agree on a single candidate to oppose Van Buren. In a highly questionable gamble, they decided to run four strong regional candidates with the hope they could deny Van Buren the opportunity to win a majority of the electoral votes and force the election into the House of Representatives. Despite having to run against four strong regional candidates, Van Buren won a majority of the electoral votes after winning a majority of the popular votes in both the North and South.

However, in a twist of fate, Van Buren’s vice president running mate, Richard M. Johnson, fell one electoral vote short when 23 Unfaithful Electors from Virginia refused to vote for Johnson due to their objections over his biracial marriage. So, for the first and only time (up till now), the United States Senate was required to hold a special election for the vice president. Johnson finally prevailed and served his four years as vice president for President Martin Van Buren. One could hope that this was an unfortunate anomaly, but they would be wrong.

When the Democrats met in Baltimore four years later in 1840 for their nominating convention, the incumbent president, Martin Van Buren, was renominated as expected. But VP Johnson ran into another political issue: the Democratic Party now considered him to be dead weight that would drag down the entire ticket. Even ex-President Andrew Jackson agreed and suggested they drop Johnson and replace him with a younger man … James K. Polk – the Speaker of the House. After the normal wrangling, they were still unable to agree and Martin Van Buren ran without a vice president!

This is only one of two elections (until 2020) where a major party did not have a vice presidential candidate on Election Day. The other was in 1912, when Vice President James S. Sherman (Republican) died six days before the election. You will not be surprised to learn that Martin Van Buren did not win the election and was replaced by William Henry Harrison as president and John Tyler, a Senator from Virginia, as vice president. Tyler took his oath of office on March 4, 1841. However, 30 days later, he was president of the United States when Harrison became the first president to die in office. Tyler was only 51 years old and the youngest president till that time.

Now skip forward 20 years to see how this sage evolved:

“At 4:30 a.m. April 12, 1861, a 10-inch mortar from Fort Johnson, on James Island, South Carolina, fired the first shot of the Civil War. Upon that signal, Confederate batteries from Sullivan’s Island, across Charleston Harbor, joined in. These were soon followed by a battery located at Cummings Point, which dominated Fort Sumpter from a distance of only a mile. The Civil War had begun.”

Epilogue: The hot heads in South Carolina were delirious with joy! They would chase these Yankees back North and whup their behinds in the process. President Jefferson Davis called up 100,000 troops to end this quickly. The old veterans yawned and predicted these cotton states would not last 30 days. Bull Run would demonstrate just how powerful the North was as they crushed these Southern rebels.

Welcome to your new job and shiny new home, Mr. Lincoln.

Are we capable of dealing with the daunting tasks that face us? Of course we are!

A 1776 broadside printing of the Declaration of Independence, written by Thomas Jefferson, sold for $514,000 at an April 2016 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Two U.S. presidents have been elected by the House of Representatives. John Quincy Adams became the sixth president (1825) when his chief opponent, Andrew Jackson, failed to win a majority of the electoral votes in the 1824 election. The House held a special election to decide the winner. Supposedly, a “corrupt bargain” between Adams and House Speaker Henry Clay vaulted Clay into the Secretary of State position.

John C. Calhoun easily won the vice-presidential vote and he served four years under JQA. When Jackson bounced back and won in 1828, Calhoun continued as vice president for three more years. Then he resigned and made a run for the nomination in a new party: the Nullifiers … the second third party to form (the Anti-Masons were the first third party).

Earlier, in 1801, Thomas Jefferson had been elected by the House after he tied with Aaron Burr in the general election. However, it took 36 votes in the House to break the tie. Alexander Hamilton finally persuaded the electors from New York to vote for Jefferson since he was “the lesser of two evils.” Two years later, Burr exacted his revenge by killing Hamilton in a duel.

Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declaration of Independence, was Adams’ vice president for four years and then served two terms as president. He had hoped that the young nation would expand across North America, becoming a great agrarian society. Instead, great cities evolved out of necessity to accommodate the millions of immigrants fleeing to the new republic with its fabled “streets paved with gold.” In 1800, Jefferson famously wrote: “When great evils happen, I am in the habit of looking out for what good may arise from them as consolations to us. … The yellow fever will discourage the growth of great cities in our nation; and I view great cities as pestilential to the morals, the health and the liberties of man.” In Jefferson’s time, the epidemics that repeatedly swept through large cities were especially lethal.

One poignant example occurred in the summer of 1793 when a massive epidemic of yellow fever hit Philadelphia, the largest city in America and temporary capital of the United States. It was caused by the mosquitoes that flourished in the muddy swamps in the area. Yellow fever is an acute, infectious viral disease transmitted by the bite of an infected female.

This episode was responsible for 5,000 deaths, or 10% of the population. An even bigger disaster was averted when President George Washington moved the federal government and nearly 40% of the inhabitants followed. Another mitigating factor helped when a savvy group of doctors imposed a quarantine on all ships and refugees from Philadelphia. Special guards were posted to the wharfs to ensure compliance and citizens were warned not to let any strangers into their homes.

When yellow fever returned to NYC in 1795, they were better prepared with a health department. But in 1798, yellow fever killed 2,086 people (one in 30), or the equivalent of 289,000 in today’s terms. The battle continued during the entire 19th century with major outbreaks in Baltimore, Boston, New Orleans and other southern cities. Eventually, a vaccine was developed.

Thomas Jefferson was eager to obtain what would become part of the Louisiana Purchase when Spain ceded much of North America to France. He dispatched James Monroe and Robert Livingston to France with an offer to buy 40,000 square miles for $10 million. The offer was refused, but Napoleon subsequently made an astonishing counteroffer … 827,987 square miles for $15 million! The offer was quickly accepted since it provided significant benefits. First, safety for shipping on the Mississippi River … a doubling of the size of the entire United States and, mostly, acquisition of the largest, most fertile track of land on Earth. It was enough land to entice migration from the East all the way to the Pacific Ocean. With this vast new area, there would be no need to congest into cities.

However, industrial America developed rapidly as a nation, but cities grew even faster. Masses of immigrants poured into America and a vast population shifted from the country to the city. Between 1860 and 1900, the rural population had doubled, but the number of city-dwellers quadrupled! The city became the supreme achievement of modern industry, the center of civilization. It spread out, built tall skyscrapers, mechanized factories and provided all the goods and services needed for workers.

On the other side of the ledger were the evils: ghettos for the poor, suburbs for the middle-class, exclusive neighborhoods for the wealthy, and ethnic neighborhoods for the immigrants. The city offered hope and opportunity, but it also brought despair. Overwhelming social problems, diseases, poverty, crime and strife between businesses and exploited workers. So we’re left with a few problems to solve:

Rising oceans, melting polar caps, tornadic storms, raging forest fires
Partially filled office buildings and empty, closed-down malls
AI and robots replacing undereducated workers
Rising rates of inequality
Systemic racism
More complex viral diseases as we get deeper into dark spooky places
Telemedicine in place of doctors
Remote learning

Are we capable of dealing with these daunting tasks? Just think about poor George Washington who had to flee when every tenth person was dying. Of course we are, but if we give up in despair, someone (probably China) will assume the leadership role and, in the process, set the world’s agenda. Leaders lead … others follow.

Descent into vitriol began long before our lifetimes

A quarter-plate daguerreotype of President John Quincy Adams, taken at the Washington, D.C., studio of John Plumbe in 1846, sold for $31,250 at a December 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

“The whole country is in a state of agitation upon the approaching presidential election such as was never before witnessed. … Not a week has passed within the last few months without a convocation of thousands of people to hear inflammatory harangues. Here is a revolution in the habits and manners of the people. Where will it end? These are party movements, and must in the natural progress of things become antagonistic … their manifest tendency is to civil war.”

If you guess this was 1964 when LBJ was set to defeat Barry Goldwater, you would be wrong. Or perhaps 1992 when Bill Clinton and Ross Perot were trying to unseat President George H.W. Bush? Sorry. You’re not even in the right century! We’re in a much earlier time, a time without 24/7 cable news and its insatiable appetite for divisive issues coupled with scores of political partisans eager to share their opinions. A time when you could not discern political bias by simply knowing the TV channel.

The year was 1840 when the Whigs were trying to oust President Martin Van Buren from the White House. It was a boisterous time and the speaker was ex-President John Quincy Adams (1767-1848). These words come from a concerned man, but then again, political speeches were more impassioned than we’ve ever heard in our lifetimes.

Eight years later, Congressman JQA, representing Massachusetts, rose in the House of Representatives to speak, but suddenly collapsed on his desk. He died two days later from the effects of a cerebral hemorrhage in the Speaker’s chambers. The public mourning that followed exceeded, by far, anything previously seen in America. Forgotten was his failed one-term presidency, routinely cold demeanor, cantankerous personality, and even the full extent of his remarkable public life.

For two days, the remains of our sixth president (and son of the second president) reposed in-state while an unprecedented line of thousands filed through the Capitol to view the bier. On Saturday, Feb. 25, funeral services began in the House. After all the speeches, and after a choir had sung, the body was escorted by a parade of public officials, military units and private citizens to the Congressional Cemetery. After the coffin remained in a temporary vault for several days, 30 members of Congress, one from each state, were ready to accompany it on the 500-mile railway journey to Boston. The train, with a black-draped special car, traveled for five days through a cloud of universal grief. The caravan stopped often to permit local ceremonies and citizens to stand in silent tribute.

Boston greeted his remains by exhibiting the insignia of mourning virtually everywhere. On March 12, every prominent politician in Massachusetts vied to join in escorting the casket to Quincy’s First Parish Church, where Pastor William Lunt delivered a moving sermon that ended with “Be thou faithful until death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” Later, Harvard President Edward Everett (of Gettysburg fame) eulogized JQA for two hours in the presence of the Massachusetts legislature, which had gathered in Faneuil Hall.

Only Abraham Lincoln’s death evoked a greater outpouring of national sorrow in the entire 19th century in America.

Eventually, JQA’s coffin was installed in a monumental enclosure with his mother Abigail to his right and his wife Louisa to his left. With the inclusion of his father, John Adams, it has become a national shrine; unique in America’s history since it marks the graves of two presidents of the United States and two First Ladies.

And what of the man who had been secretary of state and vice president for Andrew Jackson and was now trying to win another term as president? Martin Van Buren (1782-1862), the “Wizard of Kinderhook,” was surprisingly short at 5-6, and had been elected in 1836 when Jackson decided against a third term and threw his support to Van Buren.

The opposing Whigs were too divided to hold a national convention in 1836 since they couldn’t agree on a single candidate. Instead, they adopted a clever plan to support regional favorite sons with the hope they could deny Van Buren an electoral victory, force the election into the House of Representatives (as in 1824) and then unite behind a single Whig candidate to secede Jackson. The anti-Van Buren press was vitriolic and the New York American called him “illiterate, sycophant and politically corrupt.”

Van Buren remained implacable and on election day racked up 764,195 votes (50.9 percent) and his three Whig opponents were left to carve up the remainder. New York power broker and publisher Thurlow Weed summed it up succinctly: “We are to be cursed with Van Buren for president.”

However, on May 10, 1837 – only two months after the new president took office – prominent banks in New York started refusing to convert paper money into gold or silver. Other financial institutions, also running low on hard currency, followed suit. The financial crisis became the Panic of 1837. This was followed by a five-year depression that forced bank closures, economic malaise and record unemployment. Now flash forward to 1840, when Van Buren easily won re-nomination at the Democratic National Convention despite the economic woes. But the government was also mired down with major divisive issues: slavery, westward expansion, tension with Great Britain. Van Buren had not recognized what James Carville would memorialize 150 years later: “It’s the economy stupid!”

Other financial panics would continue to plague the country periodically until 1913, when President Woodrow Wilson signed the Federal Reserve Act. These wizards can create money out of thin air by using an electronic switch that coverts ions into gizmos that people will buy with money that is guaranteed by the federal government.

What’s in your wallet?

Jackson arrived in D.C. and proceeded to upset the apple cart

A rare Andrew Jackson “pewter rim,” most likely dating to the War of 1812 and celebrating its heroes, sold for $20,000 at a June 2015 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of the United States, was ready to go home. After serving eight years, he rejoiced that his vice president would succeed him. Occasionally, Jackson had considered resigning to ensure a smooth transition and, more importantly, a continuation of Jacksonianism. VP Martin Van Buren had consistently opposed this and finally “Old Hickory” dropped the idea. The president’s health was failing and many descriptions painted a picture of an old man (he was 70 years old and frail).

Eight years earlier, the president-elect had slipped into Washington, D.C. A welcoming salute had been cancelled since counting the electoral votes was still before Congress. Four years before (1825), Jackson had been denied the presidency despite winning a plurality of popular and electoral votes. Absent a majority of electoral votes, the election had been decided by the House of Representatives in accordance with the 12th Amendment. They chose John Quincy Adams.

Now, while waiting for the final count, Jackson was in deep mourning over the death of Mrs. Jackson a few days before Christmas. The cause was deep depression followed by a heart attack. A bitter controversy had erupted during the campaign when political enemies charged their marriage was bigamous. Rachel Donelson Jackson was mortified to learn a divorce was in question from a prior marriage. Winning the presidency had magnified the embarrassment and she cried out to friends, “I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of God than live in that palace in Washington.”

So began a new era in American politics as a strident, partisan president took office still seeking revenge. The new president was obsessed with attacking all special interest groups and their corrupt influence on Congress. Under his leadership, Democrats became the party of the common man. The mantle of populism rested easily on his shoulders and Washington politics would be transformed for an entire generation. The two-party system was now dominant as Democrats and Whigs shared power until the 1860 election.

The turbulence of AJ’s life carried over into the presidency as he defined his policies, not by enacting legislation, but by defiantly thwarting it! He vetoed more bills than the combined total of all six of his predecessors. He was a man in a hurry and Cabinet members either followed his orders or they were quickly dispatched. As an example, the national debt was $58 million when he assumed office in 1829 and by Jan. 1, 1835, it had totally been eliminated (for the first and ONLY time to this day).

Nothing was sacred from his reform crusade and that especially included the Bank of the United States (BUS). The original BUS was created by Alexander Hamilton in 1791 to get the new government operating despite heavy debts from the War of Independence. The bank had been chartered for 20 years with the expectation the charter would be renewed. A successor BUS was founded in 1816, again with another 20-year quasi-monopoly. Jackson believed the bank was unconstitutional (as had Jefferson). Jackson surprised everyone by attacking the bank in his very first message to Congress.

He then promptly vetoed the bill to renew the charter in 1836 by saying, “It is to be regretted that the rich and powerful too often bend the acts of government to their selfish purposes.”

However, since the bank charter wouldn’t expire until 1836, Jackson decided not to wait. He ordered his Treasury Secretary, William Duane, to withdraw all government funds from the bank and deposit them with state charted banks. Congress had just legislated against this and Secretary Duane refused Jackson’s edict. The president simply fired him and transferred Attorney General Roger Taney into the Treasury job. The Senate, now controlled by Whigs, was furious and refused to approve Taney’s nomination. But they were too slow and the damage was already complete.

Totally frustrated, in March 1834 the Senate adopted a resolution of censure of Jackson, charging him with “assuming authority and power not conferred by the Constitution and laws, but in derogation of both.” It was viewed as an impeachment, but without the Constitutional process.

The Whigs responded, “The resolution, then, was in substance an impeachment of the president, and in passage amounts to a declaration by the majority of the Senate that he is guilty of an impeachable offence. As such, it is spread upon the journals of the Senate, published to the nation and to the world, made part of our enduring archives, and incorporated in the history of the age.”

That enduring “history of the age” lasted less than three years. In January 1837, Democrats, back in control of the Senate, voted to expunge the censure resolution, writing boldly across the original record, “EXPUNGED BY ORDER OF THE SENATE THIS 16TH DAY OF JANUARY, IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD, 1837.”

Amen.

Zimmermann Telegram the proverbial straw that broke America’s isolationism

A vintage postcard signed by U.S. General John J. Pershing (right), and also showing British Field Marshal Douglas Haig and French General Ferdinand Jean Marie Foch, went to auction in October 2006.

By Jim O’Neal

On Jan. 31, 1917, the German Secretary of State for the Imperial Navy addressed the nation’s parliament. “They will not come because our submarines will sink them.” He went on to state, categorically, “Thus, America, from a military point of view, means nothing … nothing!”

Strictly from an Army standpoint, Eduard von Capelle may have had a point. The U.S. Army had gradually declined in size to 107,641 – ranked No. 17 in the world. Additionally, the Army had not been involved in large-scale operations since the Civil War ended in 1865, over 50 years earlier.

The National Guard was marginally larger, with a total of 132,000. However, these were only part-time militia spread among the 48 states and they, quite naturally, varied considerably in readiness. Equipment was another issue since they were armed with nothing heavier than machineguns. This was rectified significantly in 1917-18 when 20 million men were registered for military service.

Known to only a few, two weeks earlier on Jan. 16, British code-breakers had intercepted a diplomatic message sent by German Foreign Secretary Arthur Zimmermann. The “Zimmermann Telegram,” as it is known, was intended for Heinrich von Eckardt, the German ambassador to Mexico.

The missive gave the ambassador a set of highly confidential instructions to propose a Mexican-German alliance should the United States enter the war against Germany. Von Eckardt was to offer the president of Mexico generous military and financial support if Mexico were to form an alliance with Germany. In exchange, Mexico would be free to annex the “lost territory in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.” In addition to distracting the United States, Mexico could assist in persuading Japan to join in, as well.

At the start of World War I, Germany’s telegraph cables passing through the English Channel had been cut by a British ship. This forced the Germans to send messages via neutral countries. They had also convinced President Woodrow Wilson that keeping channels of communications open would help shorten the war. The United States agreed to pass on German diplomatic messages from Berlin to their U.S. Embassy in Washington, D.C.

The United States was still firmly committed to remaining neutral and not being entangled in foreign wars that did not pose a direct threat. Wilson had been re-elected in 1916 with a main slogan of “He kept us out of war!” But that did not prevent many individual citizens from joining and many were already fighting in the war in a variety of ways. Some had joined the British Army directly and others joined Canadians already in Europe.

There were also groups in the French Foreign Legion and a special group in the French Air Force. They formed the La Fayette Escadrille in honor of the Marquis de Lafayette, who was a friend from our own war for freedom. Lafayette had actually fought in the American Revolution as a major general under George Washington. He was even present at Yorktown, Va., when British Army General Charles Cornwallis had surrendered, effectively bringing an end to armed hostilities. When Lafayette died in 1834 in Paris, President Andrew Jackson had both Houses of Congress draped in black for 30 days. Individual members of congress also wore mourning badges. It is likely that we may have lost the war with Britain absent the help from the French.

Back on the morning of Jan. 17, 1917, one of the British codebreakers (Nigel de Grey) entered Room 40 of the British Admiralty and asked his boss a question: “Do you want to bring America into the war? I’ve got something that might do the trick!” It was a decoded copy of the Zimmermann Telegram.

Room 40 was the home of the British cryptographic center and they were acutely aware of the implications of disclosing their clandestine activities. They developed an elaborate plan to get a copy to President Wilson without exposing that they had been monitoring all transatlantic cables, including America’s (a practice that would continue for another 25 years). Wilson received a copy on Feb. 25 and by March 1, it was splashed on the front pages of newspapers nationwide.

Diplomatic relations had already been severed with Germany in early February when Germany had resumed unrestricted submarine warfare on American ships in the Atlantic. The Zimmermann Telegram became the proverbial straw that broke America’s isolationism and on April 2, Wilson asked Congress to officially declare war, which they did four days later.

Remarkably, by June 17, the American Expeditionary Force had landed in France. General John J. Pershing and his troops soon marched on Paris. By 1918, it was almost as though Von Capelle’s prophetic “They will never come” had been trumped in six months by America’s melodramatic “Lafayette, we are here!”

Many of the best Room 40 personnel would end up at Bletchley Park to work on cracking the German Enigma machine. Their work is captured brilliantly in the 2014 film The Imitation Game, with Benedict Cumberbatch in the Oscar-nominated role of English mathematics genius Alan Turing.

Floridians seem too busy enjoying the sun to worry about sea levels

Hermann Ottomar Herzog’s oil on canvas *Fishing on the Gulf Coast, Florida*, sold for $150,000 at a May 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Many people typically think of American colonization in terms of English exploration and the establishment of eastern settlements like Jamestown, Va. (1607), the first permanent colony. Or perhaps even the slightly more renowned Massachusetts Bay Colony (1628-91) and Plymouth Colony (just south), which was founded by Separatist Pilgrims seeking freedom from the edicts of the Church of England.

However, the fact is Spanish explorer Juan Ponce de León (1457-1521) was the first European to touch what is now the mainland of the United States. He accompanied Christopher Columbus on his second voyage to the New World in 1493 as one of several hundred “gentlemen explorers.” This voyage landed in Hispaniola (now the Dominican Republic and Haiti) as Columbus never actually set foot in North America.

Ponce de León leveraged his military prowess to win an appointment from King Ferdinand of Spain to become the first governor of Puerto Rico. This was followed by his maiden voyage to the mainland, where he discovered La Florida (Land of Flowers) in 1513. He would die eight years later, after a battle with native Calusa people, without establishing a permanent settlement. The mythical tale of his search for a magical “Fountain of Youth” began circulating after his death. He was interred in Puerto Rico and his tomb is in the Cathedral of San Juan Bautista. Some speculate that more than 30 percent of Puerto Ricans are in his lineage.

The arrival of Europeans, primarily from Spain and England, has been described as the “most astounding clash of civilizations in history.” Scottish philosopher Adam Smith called it the “greatest and most important event in the history of mankind.” Spain dominated world exploration from the 15th to 17th centuries and was the first to own the description of an “empire on which the sun never sets.” This title shifted to the British Empire in the 18th and 19th centuries as the British Navy became the world’s most powerful force.

The devastation these incursions into the Western Hemisphere had on native populations almost defies comprehension. In 1492, Hispaniola had 1 million inhabitants; 20 years later, it had dwindled to 46,000. America’s native population was estimated at up to 100 million. An average of 1 million perished annually for most of the 16th century. It has been labeled “the greatest genocide in human history.”

The first official voyage to Florida is a microcosm of the relentless force of conquest. Spain traded it to Great Britain in 1763 for control of Cuba. The United States claimed ownership after the Louisiana Purchase (1803), and it gained statehood (no. 27) on March 3, 1845, after the Indian Removal Act and Andrew Jackson defeated the Seminole. Florida became a slave state, seceded from the Union and became part of the Confederacy.

During the next century, Florida would suffer through killer hurricanes, tornadoes and severe freezes. Then came the Great Land Boom of the 1920s when the city of Miami turned itself into a real estate cornucopia; 100,000 people were getting rich selling lots to each other. Some land was sold 10 times a day and the bubble was getting bigger every hour. One cabdriver drove a couple down from New York, took the $1,300 fare and invested it. Within three days, he was a millionaire. Another man sold his place in an auction line, went to another location and parlayed his money into $5 million.

One day, the merry-go-round stopped and those still holding tickets were broke!

Today, Florida has recovered from the 2008 real estate bubble, has a $1 trillion economy (fourth in the U.S.), a population of over 20 million (third largest), and is home to more than 451,000 millionaires (a fact) … and property is hot again.

One Achilles’ heel is that the state is a long peninsula and 75 percent of its people live within 10 miles of the coastline. The state is very flat. The highest point is 345 feet above sea level, which is the lowest high point in any state. It is easy to visualize rising sea levels endangering a state already known for its swamps. But Floridians seem relaxed about the risk. They are too busy flipping houses and enjoying the sun, sand and nightlife.

Cheers!

Eliminating national debt will require a bit of financial wizardry

An intimate and honest letter by John Adams to Vice President Elbridge Gerry, dated April 26, 1813, sold for $46,875 at an October 2014 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

President James Madison set the rather dubious record of having both of his vice presidents die in office. George Clinton went first on April 20, 1812. Clinton also set a record as the first person to lie in state at the Capitol. However, it was for only two hours pending finalization of his burial services.

Then Vice President Elbridge Gerry died on Nov. 23, 1814, during Madison’s second term as president. Gerry’s name is still in common use today … “gerrymandering” is a way to draw voting districts to favor a candidate or political party. Gerry also holds the distinction of being the sole signer of the Declaration of Independence to be buried in the nation’s capital. He is interned at the Congressional Cemetery, which is the only “cemetery of national memory” founded before the Civil War. Although it is privately owned, the federal government has 806 plots that are used for ex-members of importance.

Neither VPs Clinton nor Gerry were replaced, since the Constitution at the time did not have a provision for filling a vice presidential vacancy. If a VP died, the job was held open pending the next election. Congress finally got around to addressing this in 1967 with the ratification of the 25th Amendment. In the aftermath of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination, the 25th provides the specific procedures for replacing the president or vice president in the event of death, removal, resignation or incapacitation (better late than never!).

Clinton had earlier served as Thomas Jefferson’s second vice president (Aaron Burr was the first) and was one of two vice presidents who served under two different presidents. John C. Calhoun was the other to have this iffy honor.

Calhoun was VP for John Quincy Adams and then Adams’ successor, Andrew Jackson. Calhoun then resigned the vice presidency to become a senator from South Carolina. The South Carolina legislature had voted to nullify federal tariff laws and threatened to secede from the Union if the issue was not resolved. Calhoun, ever the politician, thought the tariff issue could best be resolved by Congress and he thought he would be of more help to South Carolina as a senator.

However, Jackson began mobilizing federal troops to send to Charleston and made headlines by stating he would hang Calhoun if South Carolina went ahead with their threat to secede from the Union. In December 1832, Jackson issued a “Proclamation on Nullification,” warning that disunion by force was treason! Recall that this was nearly 30 years before the Civil War started.

President Jackson remained steadfast on federal tariffs. First, he was adamant that the Constitution trumped states’ rights. Asked if he had a message to those who threatened to secede, he replied: “Yes, give them my compliments and say that if a single drop of blood is shed in opposition to the laws of the United States, I will hang the first man upon the first tree I can reach!”

Secondly, he knew the federal tariffs were critical to his firm pledge to pay off the national debt. Remarkably, Jackson made good on his promise to eliminate the national debt. On Jan. 8, 1835, the federal government paid off 100 percent of the national debt … the first time in the history of the country. Fittingly, it was the 20th anniversary of the Battle of New Orleans. The following year, an even more astonishing event occurred. President Jackson approved returning surplus treasury funds to individual states.

With the current national debt at more than $22 trillion, and another $100 trillion in liabilities (Social Security and Medicare), I suspect zero national debt will require a degree of financial wizardry not seen since Bernie Madoff was reluctantly letting people give him their money to invest.

As delegates hissed, Martin Van Buren became his party’s presidential nominee

Five miniature portraits of George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and Martin Van Buren, likely produced in Europe during Van Buren’s presidency, sold for $14,340 at a May 2012 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Andrew Jackson had been denied the presidency in the election of 1824, despite winning most of the popular votes and electoral votes. In situations where a political candidate did not secure a majority, the House of Representatives decided which of the top three candidates (by vote totals) would become president. The top three in 1824 were Jackson, John Quincy Adams and William Crawford. Henry Clay had finished fourth and was dropped from consideration.

The House then voted and picked Adams for president and he subsequently appointed Clay to be Secretary of State. Critics claimed that Clay had persuaded the House to vote for Adams in a secret quid pro quo for the Cabinet position. The dispute became notorious and was dubbed “the Corrupt Bargain” by Jackson supporters.

However, Jackson bounced back four years later and soundly defeated JQA for the presidency. This was the second time an incumbent president had been defeated. Thomas Jefferson had defeated President John Adams in the election of 1800. Both Adamses, father and son, were bitter about their defeats, and the “Era of Good Feelings” that existed for eight years (1817-1825) under President James Monroe came to an abrupt end. The deterioration into partisan politics was precisely what George Washington had warned about if political parties were allowed to flourish. He was a man wise beyond his years, as we know so well today.

After Jackson served two tumultuous terms (1829-1837), the Hero of New Orleans was tired and ready to go home. He had abandoned the idea of a third term and even seriously considered an early retirement that would allow close friend and adviser Vice President Martin Van Buren to assume the presidency. This would help ensure a peaceful continuation of Jacksonianism and put Van Buren in a strong place for the 1836 election. Van Buren consistently opposed this and finally the idea was dropped. Jackson would patiently wait for the end of his term.

However, earlier in 1835, Jackson had strongly urged party leaders to hold a national convention composed of delegates “fresh from the people” to pick the nominees. He made no secret of his personal preferences: Martin Van Buren for president and Col. Richard Johnson of Kentucky for vice president. This was not a popular choice, especially in the South, where many considered Van Buren a slick New York politician and Johnson worse … much worse. Johnson was anathema to Southerners. His common-law wife was a black woman and they had two children, which Johnson openly acknowledged.

To others, the “Van Buren Convention” was a farce. They complained that several states didn’t send delegates and others sent too many. They singled out Tennessee, which didn’t have delegates, but simply found a merchant from Tennessee who was in Baltimore on business at the time, quickly admitted him to the convention and allowed him to cast all 15 Tennessee votes for Van Buren and Johnson. His name was Edward Rucker and “ruckerize” (assuming a position or function without credentials) entered the jargon as a pejorative with an easy definition. Eventually, Van Buren and Johnson were selected as the Democratic-Republican Party ticket, with the delegates from Virginia hissing as they walked out of the convention.

Van Buren’s opposition in 1836 was composed of various anti-Jackson parties that had formed a new party called the Whigs. The old English Whigs had fought against royal despotism, and the American Whigs were dedicated to fighting “King Andrew the 1^st.” They were too dispersed to hold a national meeting, so they simply nominated regional favorite sons: Daniel Webster (New England), Senator Hugh White (South) and General William Henry Harrison (West). Their hope was to divide the electoral vote, deny Van Buren the majority and have the election settled in the House as in 1824.

The strategy failed as Van Buren got almost 51 percent of the vote and was elected president. Richard Johnson had a tougher time. Twenty-three of the Virginia delegates refused to vote for him as “faithless electors” and he was one vote short of the 148 requirements. This time, the VP election was tossed to the Senate and for the only time in history, the Senate elected the vice president of the United States, 34 to 16.

Concurrently, word was received in Washington that Sam Houston had taken the president of Mexico as a prisoner, and Texas was applying for annexation as a state. Jackson was hesitant to accept a new state over the slavery issue. However, on the last day of his term of office, he recognized Texas independence – setting the stage for future annexation. Two days later, after handing over the reins of government to now-President Martin Van Buren, he left Washington by train to return to his beloved Hermitage.

There were no winners or losers in the War of 1812

Portraits of James and Dolley Madison by Lawrence Williams went to auction in October 2007.

By Jim O’Neal

The White House was burned to a shell. The previous evening, British soldiers had found the president’s house abandoned and they feasted on the dinner and wine left there untouched due to the hasty exit of Dolley Madison and the entire staff. The date was Aug. 24, 1814, and the War of 1812 came directly to the young country’s capital. There was little doubt about the enemy’s intentions. Public buildings would be destroyed in retribution for the burning of both the legislature and governor’s residence in York (now Toronto), the capital of Upper Canada.

Someone (other than the First Lady) had rescued the Gilbert Stuart painting of George Washington by trimming it from its heavy frame. Executive papers and personal effects, along with silverware, were hurriedly spirited away by carriage for safekeeping. A torrential rain had mercifully helped minimize the damage.

Three days after the British departed, the Madisons returned to the ruins. The torching of the president’s house had mortified the populace, and political enemies accused Madison of cowardice for fleeing days before the incident. Even the press piled on, asserting that Dolley could have saved more, or worse, that the president could have prevented the entire affair. There was malicious gossip that this might finally reduce the excessive social entertaining of the First Lady.

Fortuitously, refuse from the fire had fallen gracefully within the stone walls of the White House and virtually no debris was scattered on the surrounding grounds. The city superintendent commissioned an assessment of all public buildings and the consensus was the White House was damaged more than the Capitol or other executive buildings. Since the blackened shells were shameful symbols of defeat, a debate arose over whether the federal city should be rebuilt. New buildings in a different location could provide an opportunity for a fresh start.

Cincinnati was mentioned as a perfect candidate since it was more central to the country’s westward expansion; the Ohio River and new steamboat connections to St. Louis and New Orleans would facilitate commerce. It would also minimize the need to contend with crossing the mountains, and the re-centering rationale was similar to the arguments used to support the earlier move from Philadelphia to Virginia. Fate intervened just in time with news of victory and the Treaty of Ghent, which ended the War of 1812 between the United States and the United Kingdom.

Congress hastily ratified an appropriation of $500,000 to fund the restoration of all damaged buildings. Jubilant backers of the city implied promises of more money as needed, knowing that once construction was under way, Congress would have no other option than to continue with the restoration. The capital had been saved and that was all that was important.

A few months earlier in September, the formidable British Navy attacked Fort McHenry in Baltimore. The fort’s soldiers were able to withstand 25 hours of bombardment. The next day, they hoisted an enormous American flag, which provided the inspiration of a poem by Francis Scott Key – The Star-Spangled Banner, which became an instant hit and in 1931 became the national anthem of the United States. British forces withdrew from Chesapeake Bay and organized their forces for a campaign against New Orleans. This strategic location would provide access to the Mississippi River and the entire western part of the United States. They still hadn’t abandoned their ambition of establishing a British North America.

Colonel Andrew Jackson was 45 years old when the War of 1812 started – semiretired on his 640-acre plantation the Hermitage – and still with a burning ambition to get involved. His prayers were answered with the assignment to assume command of New Orleans. His ragtag group of free blacks, pirates (including Jean Lafitte) and loyal Tennessee Volunteers cleverly defeated the British. General Jackson was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal and would become a two-term president in 1828.

In a slight twist, the victory at New Orleans occurred a few weeks after the British had already signed the Treaty of Ghent. However, Jackson’s role in the war was absolutely critical to the future expansion of the country. Not only did he spare an almost certain loss of territory in the Southwest, but he also cleared the air over the status of the Gulf Coast. Great Britain did not recognize any American claims about lands included in the Louisiana Purchase. They disputed – correctly – the legality of the treaty. France had no legal right to sell it to the United States since the 1800 Treaty of San Ildefonso between Spain and France specifically stated that France would not sell without offering to return it to Spain. This meant that none of the lower Mississippi or any of the Gulf Coast belonged to the United States.

Their claims were blithely ignored and the Treaty of Ghent was silent on the entire issue. It has been said that there were no winners or losers in the little War of 1812 … except for American Indians. The United States signed 15 different treaties guaranteeing their lands and then proceeded to break every one of them.