The Whigs threw parades full of log cabin floats, folks drank whiskey out of log-cabin-shaped flasks to show support (somehow), and America ate it up. In a time when political machines were running things and it seemed like only an elite few made it to Washington, it was nice to see Harrison, a down-home, decent guy, seeking office.
Here’s the thing: Harrison was about as down-home and folksy as the cold and terrifying cyborg the Republicans ran in 2012. Harrison
didn’t
live in a log cabin
or
drink hard cider. He had acres and acres of land surrounding his mansion in Ohio, where he fought as a prohibitionist to close alcohol distilleries. Van Buren might have been shitty and elitist, but as a guy who was born and raised in a tavern, he certainly had a better claim to the “log cabin and hard cider” label than Harrison.
In the light of modern campaigning, where
every
candidate has an image that’s carefully constructed and maintained by a dedicated PR team, this might not seem like a huge deal, but it was fairly revolutionary at the time. Harrison’s entire campaign was based around selling an image, not a person. Harrison didn’t actually run on any issues. His campaign manager said, “Let no committee, no convention, no town meeting extract from him a single word about what he thinks now or what he will do hereafter.” Harrison went along with it, because he wanted the presidency. He wanted it bad enough that he didn’t care about his reputation, and he certainly wasn’t above rubbing dirt all over Van Buren’s stupid name. Harrison’s team even started an ugly rumor that Van Buren installed a
bathtub
in the
WhiteHouse
(apparently in the 1840s only assholes bathed), and the public went apeshit. Can you believe that? A bathtub. Like a common whore!
The campaign worked (a lesson adopted by literally every campaign that followed). Seventy-eight percent of the voters chose Harrison, because they fell for the lie about how real he was. Harrison, the uncompromising war hero, let his ambition blind him to anything else and lied his way into the White House. Watch out for him.
Still, if you’re looking for a good strategy for battling Harrison, you should maybe just wait it out. Be patient. This is a man who died thirty days into his presidency because he gave his inauguration speech outside during a freezing rainstorm without an overcoat or hat or gloves or anything else that might keep him warm. Maybe he was trying to show off how tough he was, or maybe he was still trying to play up his realness, because overcoats are for fancy people, and Harrison was a
man’s
man. Or maybe he just thought, “Hey, I wonder what’s the dumbest way I could die?” The point is, he delivered a two-hour speech in the cold, got sick, and died after being president for only a month. You should watch out for the good right arm that Harrison boasted about to his father-in-law but, if at all possible, just dance around, ride this one out, and before you know it, Harrison will completely exhaust himself to death.
John Tyler was born to be a rebel. No one knows what started it, but rejecting authority and taking matters into his own hands was simply in Tyler’s blood. Some of us are Fonzies, and some of us are Ritchies, and Tyler was a Fonzie. In elementary school, Tyler disagreed with the headmaster of his school, which is standard, so he organized his fellow classmates and staged a
revolt
, which is
crazy
. Sure, we all
thought
about it, but Tyler did it, because he is a loose
cannon
, and while most kids grow out of their youthful rebellion phase, Tyler let it define him.
Tyler was always fighting with whoever the authority was, even if the authority was the president, and even if the president was Andrew Jackson. Tyler made a name for himself as a senator by repeatedly criticizing President Jackson, voting against almost everything Jackson proposed. Tyler did this despite the fact that Tyler and Jackson were members of the