Posts Tagged ‘Zachary Taylor’

By the Bullet and the Bowl

October 12, 2011

“By the Bullet and the Bowl.”
From the New York Tribune.

In 1840 the Whig party elected Wm. H. Harrison President. He was inaugurated in 1841, March 4th. One month afterward he died, and his office fell to John Tyler.

How “Tyler too” carried out the principles under which he was chosen, the world too well remembers. He added a new and disgraceful verb to the language — to Tylerize has ever since been synonymous with partisan treachery.

In 1844, through the efforts of the Birney Abolitionists, Henry Clay was defeated — Polk elected, with Dallas for his Vice; Texas was annexed, the area of slavery was extended by nearly 300,000 square miles, and all was lovely.

In 1848, Zachary Taylor, a moderate Whig, and Millard Fillmore, not much of anything, were chosen President and Vice. Taylor did not suit the Southern drivers; he had a stupid way of acting honestly and straightforward — and so, within a brief period, he fell under the malarious vapors of Washington, and died, Fillmore succeeding, and duly Tylerized.

Next we had the Herald’s “poor Pierce,” who has not, to this day ceased from expressing his boundless servility to the slave whips of his southern masters. He was “sound” and served out his term in peace — the water was good.

In 1856, Mr. Buchanan, fully as sound as Pierce, was raised to the Executive chair, and under his administration — as in that of his predecessor — Washington was free from malaria — that is, Democrats; but when the new Republican party began to gain strength, and it was possible that they might become the ruling power of Congress, the water of Washington suddenly grew dangerous, the hotels (particularly the National) became pest houses, and dozens of heretics from the Democratic faith grew sick almost unto death. This singular phenomenon re-appeared from time to time until the great outbreak after the election of Lincoln. Then the wells and springs of the capital came into the care of loyal soldiers, and the water persistently remained healthy. This continued, in spite of the prayers of the faithless, for four years; there was not a “sick” congressman after Davis and his followers left.

But when the struggle of 1864 was over, and the water of the capital flowed clearly, there came a change in the tactics of the poisoners; a single bullet sufficed to restore their hopes. Abraham Lincoln passed away; Andrew Johnson supervened, and — like every other President elevated to the main office, from Aaron Burr to himself — he too, Tylerized, swallowed himself with the dexterity of an East India juggler, and came out from his contortions the branded property of Howell Cobb and his crowd of unregenerated rebels. Urged by the sentiment of a betrayed people, the House of Representatives recently put the recreant Executive on trial.

The trial was over, the hour for voting approached, when we had a return of that bad water, and two or three senators — Republicans, mind you — are prostrated with sudden illness.

What does it mean?

Why does it happen that whenever the current sets against the monster demon of slavery (and never at any other time) we find the air, water, and the whisky of Washington full of poison?

Why does it happen that when some great deed for freedom is on the point of accomplishment (and never on any other occasion), we find Presidents, previously in rugged health, instantaneously sent to their graves, and traitors always on hand to take their places?

Why is it now, just as we should have the vote upon the great question of impeachment, and when — up to the latest moment — it had been universally believed that Johnson would be convicted, why, we ask, do we hear at this critical moment of the dangerous illness of some of the most firm and conspicuous advocates of impeachment?

Is there any thing of chances that can explain these remarkable Ku-klux coincidences?

Alton Daily Telegraph (Alton, Illinois) Jun 3, 1868

Political Fruit

January 26, 2011

Image from Elektratig.

“The Fruit.”

After a year and a half of Locofoco rule, the people of this state can begin to judge the “tree” by the “fruit” it bears. The Madison Express thus classifies it:

State credit is thirty per cent, below par!

The state debt is nearly fifty thousand dollars!

The state tax is so levied as to raise one hundred thousand dollars!

Such a thing as public faith is unknown!

The state has repudiated its solemn contracts!

It has repudiated its own paper, refusing to allow county treasurers to receive it in payment of taxes!

The constitution has been repeatedly trampled upon — oaths of office violated, and laws discarded!

Is it not time for honest men of all parties to “awake and save the state?” What reliance have the people for the future? What guarantee against further outrage?

Honest voters of all parties! to the polls!

Let your votes speak in thunder tones in rebuke of the present foul and corrupt dynasty!

Watertown Chronicle (Watertown, Wisconsin) Oct 24, 1849

Image from Son of the South.

Locofoco Defalcations.

While the Locofocos are assailing Gen. Taylor and the Whig party so bitterly, it may be well enough to remind them of their own delinquencies occasionally, in times past as well as present, by referring to the history of their corrupt practices, and to refresh the recollections of the people upon these matters, that they may see with what grace the president can be arraigned for fraud by such men. For this purpose we publish below a partial list of moneys stolen in the pure days of the “Democracy” by Locofoco office holders. We are not able to do our sanctimonious and censorious friends justice, as we have not a complete list of these public robbers, nor of the amount stolen. But we have enough to show the public with what indecent presumption, charges against Gen. Taylor and the Whig party, come from a party whose chosen agents have been guilty of such enormities as the following array of names and figures are “premonitory symptoms” of:

This amount, “respectable” as it is, does not include the sums stolen by Harris and Boyd, a couple of gentlemen who carried operations on as large a scale as any of their colleagues in rascality. But the pretty little sum of THREE MILLIONS ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS will answer the object we have view, so far as the old Locofoco plunders are concerned. The annexed list will show that Locofocoism now is just what it was ten or twelve years ago. If they had stopped their peculations upon the public treasury after having abstracted these three millions of dollars and upwards, they would have given some evidence of a disposition to reform; and we would not have been disposed to “invade the sanctity of private life,” — as old father Ritchie styles these references to Locofoco defaulters — be calling public attention to them. But when we see them at their old game again, and witness their furious personal attacks upon one of the purest minded men that ever filled the presidential chair, we cannot help holding the mirror up to their faces, that they may “see themselves as others see them.” We will now annex their recent “financial operations,” in the way of leg treasuryism. All will admit that they bid fair to do honor to their illustrious predecessors.

But it is said that there is yet in the hands of Locofoco ex-land officers, not yet accounted for, nearly a MILLION OF DOLLARS belonging to the government. This may all be honestly paid over, or it may all or one half be stolen. Time only will determine which. At any rate, the people have been robbed of nearly or quite HALF A MILLION DOLLARS, under the beautiful operations of the sub treasury law. If six months have brought to light that large sum, it can easily be ciphered out what four years will reveal. According to our arithmetic, it cannot be less than four millions of dollars.

But we will wait awhile and see.

[Auburn Daily Adv.

Watertown Chronicle (Watertown, Wisconsin) Oct 10, 1849

Image from Legends of America.

Illinois — Locofoco “Fruits.”

Thus speaks the Chicago Democrat, the editor of which, “Long JOHN WENTWORTH,” a “Democratic” member of congress, will be taken as good authority in the premises:

“Our state is bankrupt. As to her principal, she makes no pretensions. She cannot, even, pay her interest. And the larger the state, the greater the resources, the more numerous her population, the greater her disgrace in not paying her state debts.”

With the exception of a year or two, Illinois has been under the control of the “Democratic” party from the time of its origination as a state, and, for its population, has usually given that party a stronger vote than any other western state. There, Locofocoism has had full, undisputed sway. With barely sufficient opposition to keep the party together, it has gone on from one destructive measure to another, until now, according to the confession of one of its “sachems,” the state is not only bankrupt, but is even unable to pay the interest of her indebtedness! And this, too, while she possesses a soil and climate equal to any in the world, an industrious agricultural population, and natural and artificial commercial advantages superior to most of the other western states!

What is it that has inflicted so severe a curse upon our sister state, and already made her a “by-word and a reproach?” There can be but one answer — UNCONTROLLED LOCOFOCO LEGISLATION! Locofocoism is the gangrene which has been for years eating to her very vitals. And so long as she remains the patient of “quack doctors,” so long will the disease continue to grow worse and worse. Her only salvation depends upon the use of the great Whig specific. Where is there to be found a Whig state with a bankrupt treasury? Where one which does not “flourish as a green bay tree?”

The same causes which have worked so much mischief in Illinois are producing like efforts in Wisconsin. Already has our expenditures greatly and unnecessarily increased, our taxes doubled, our treasury plundered, our legislative sessions uselessly protracted, our constitution trampled under foot, our public interests trifled with, our good name tarnished, and our growth and development as a state seriously retarded. Is it not time for our people to pause and reflect? Why will they longer jeopard everything essential to the real interests of the state, for the mere honor of placing political impostors in power?

Watertown Chronicle (Watertown, Wisconsin) Oct 10, 1849

The Poetic Presidential Campaign of Zachary Taylor

November 30, 2009

Zachary Taylor

From the Ohio State Journal

OLD ZACK.

BY J. GREINER — TUNE,Uncle Ned.” [original song LYRICS]

There lives an old soldier, there never was a bolder,
On the Mississippi, down below;
His name is Old Zack, and he’s upon the track,
For President, in Ohio.

Chorus

The Locofoco leaders look blue, they do,
So go it with a rush, boys, go’
For old Rough and Ready, we know everybody
Wants President, in Ohio.

With a long strong pull, pull together, altogether,
United as one man go;
With hearts true as steel, put your shoulders to the wheel,
For Old Zack in Ohio.
Chorus — The Locofoco leaders, &c.

Tho’ Cass broke his sword on a stump, and he ‘swor’d,’
(As some say he did long ago;)
The story wont pass — all ‘gas,’ Mr. Cass,
It wont do in Ohio.
Chorus — The Locofoco leaders &c.

Let Cass run his chances — we think “circumstances
Will prevent his attendance,” you know;
Old Zack fights to win — he’s good looking, he’ll come in,
With a shout from Ohio.
Chorus — The Locofoco leaders, &c.

Poor Cass, a man of doubt, wires in and wires out —
Both this way and that way he’ll go;
But candidate Cass, like a snake in the grass,
You can’t hide in Ohio.
Chorus — The Locofoco leaders, &c.

Hang your banners on the wall, Whigs, Democrats and all,
For Old Rough and Ready we go;
For he’s an honest man — elect him boys, we can,
And we’ll do it in Ohio.
Chorus — The Locofoco leaders, &c.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Jun 27, 1848

“OLD ZACK.”

Composed by J. Greiner, Esq., of Columbus, Ohio, and dedicated to the Detroit Rough and Ready Glee Club, and sung by them at the Washtenaw County Convention, July 4th.

TUNE — “THE POACHERS.” [original LYRICS]

Come kindle your watch-fire every true Whig,
No longer stand watching the weather,
In heart and in hand, united we’ll stand,
Sink, swim, live or die, altogether.
Then rally, “Whigs rally” from hill-top and valley,
Your Banners unfurl to the sky.

CHORUS.
Old Zack’s on the track, will you stand at his back,
All you in his favor say “Ay,” (that’s it.)
Stand up to the rack, ye friend of Old Zack,
Ye Whigs that will never say die.

Shall we in the hour of danger shrink back,
Surrender Old Zack, never! no —
Who never turned back of his and to a friend,
Nor back of his coat to a foe.
We’ll give ’em a little more grape “Capt. Bragg,”
His enemies proudly defy.

CHORUS.
Old Zack’s on the track, &c.

Alas! poor Cass, our noise and confusion,
His sensitive soul will confound.
The sword he ran into the old hollow stump,
He soon will run into the ground.
The Court of France may have taught him to dance,
To cut a pigeon-wing high.

CHORUS.
Old Zack’s on the track, &c.

When Old Zack is snug in the Presidential Chair,
Then we shall enjoy the fun,
He never will “GO IN” for “BURNING THE BARN,”
But Lord, how the RATS they will run.
Tho’ poor Matty Van is a badly used man,
His chances are all in my eye.

CHORUS.
Old Zack’s on the track, &c.

Then saddle the Nags, the track is all ready,
No matter how many may come.
We’ll bet “Old Whitey” will distance the field,
We know that his rider is “SOME.”
Then down with the dust, and fork up the dough,
No longer stand parleying by.

CHORUS.

Old Zack’s on the track, will you stand at his back,
All you in favor, say “Aye,” OLD ZACK, (that’s it.)
Never fly from the track, ye friends of Old Zack,
Ye Whigs that never say die.

N.B. The audience answer “Aye,” in the Chorus.”

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Aug 1, 1848

From the Library of Congress website, an explanation of the above image:

SUMMARY:  In a ring a large bull, wearing a ribbon marked “The Rough & Ready” between its horns, faces five matadors. The bull represents Zachary Taylor, nicknamed “Old Rough and Ready.” The matadors are prominent Whigs, who hold capes expressing their varied expectations of the candidate. The matadors are (from left to right): Senator John J. Crittenden holding a “Wilmot [Proviso]” cape; New York editor James Watson Webb, who states, “We desire you to have–” [written on cape] “No Veto Power.” An unidentified man (possibly Congressman John M. Botts) says, “We will have–” [on cape] “A National Bank.” Daniel Webster insists, “We must have–” [on cape] “A High Tariff!” An unidentified man standing behind Webster exclaims, “I hope that we won’t be Bulled!” In the background are stands crowded with spectators, above which flies a flag “U. S.”

*****

From the Winchester (Ia.) Orthopolitan.

WE ARE ALL FOR TAYLOR.

BY ONE OF THE B’HOYS.

TUNE — “OLD GRANITE STATE.” [original song LYRICS]

We are coming, we are coming!
To the battle just begun,
We’ve a true and tried commander,
For ’tis Taylor leads us on;
He who fought so bravely for us,
On the eighth and ninth of May,
And amid the fearful carnage
On the hights of Monterey.
We are all for Taylor.
We are all for Taylor.
We’re for Fillmore and for Taylor.
For the honest and the true.

He who never has surrendered
Though the foe stood four to one,
Is the brave and gallant Taylor,
Who will nobly lead us on;
And the ides of next November
Will record another name,
In the highest nich of glory,
On the brightest scroll of fame.
We are all for Taylor, &c.

Though our foes may count by legions,
We will never shun the fray,
But will bravely march to battle,
And are sure to win the day;
For ’tis Rough and Ready leads us
Who has never known defeat,
And his word is every “ONWARD,”
For he knows not a retreat.
We are all for Taylor, &c.

Where the battle rages thickest
Will our gallant chief be found,
And his cheering voice be ringing
To encourage all around;
Every danger nobly scorning,
He will boldly lead the van,
To a Buena Vista greeting
For the man of Michigan.
We are all for Taylor, &c.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Aug 8, 1848

ROUGH AND READY.

AIR — Who’ll be King but Charlie. [Original song LYRICS]

The news comes in, on every hand,
From mountain top to ocean,
To stir the heart and rouse the land,
And keep the ball in motion.
With banners flowing and bosoms glowing,
And ranks all true and steady,
A nation’s voice proclaims our choice,
Hurrah for Rough and Ready!
With banners flowing and bosoms glowing,
Come, Southrons and Northrons, we’re all agoing
To join the throng and shout the song,
Hurrah for Rough and Ready!

The Western lads are all alive,
See how the prairie blazes!
And rock and hill fling back the cheer
The distant frontier raises.
With banners flowing, &c.

The boys of Maine will try again
What hearts and hands can do, sir,
And there’s the star, that never sets,
She blazes brightly too, sir.
With banners flowing, &c.

The ladies all are on our side,
And urge us to our duty,
And where’s the cause that ever failed,
When backed by truth and beauty?
With banners flowing, &c.

Then here’s to him, the brave old man,
The soul of truth and honor,
He leads us in our country’s name,
God’s blessing be upon her.
With banners flowing, &c.

Then freemen, up, to all you love,
Be firm and true and steady,
And every man resolve to stand
Like men by Rough and Ready.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Sep 5, 1848

From the Ohio State Journal.

One of the Old Zack Songs.
BY J. GREINER.

TUNE — “O look ye there.”

O all ye pouting, doubting Whigs,
Who go about as mourners,
Come wipe the tear-drops from your eyes,
Stop croaking on the corners.

CHORUS.
O come along, with shout and song,
And “go it” while you’re able,
We’ll put Old Zack in the White House, boys,
“Old Whitey” in the White House stable.

Ah me! to hear these croakers croak,
O, ’tis a “sin to Moses!”
They snuffle, they “can’t go Old Zack,”
And then they wipe their noses.

O come along, &c.

Cheer up! cheer up! ye fearful Whigs,
And on your harness buckle;
At doubting Whigs the devil laughs,
The Locofocos chuckle.

O come along, &c.

The Locos swore that Harry Clay
Made pledges far too many;
The rascals now abuse Old Zack,
Because he don’t make any.

O come along, &c.

The Taylor platform’s broad enough
To hold this mighty nation;
‘Tis built of Whig materials all,
And has a firm foundation.

O come along, &c.

The Locos tried at Baltimore,
To fix a platform bigger;
They set a “dead-fall,” and for bait
Stuck Cass upon the trigger.

O come along, &c.

The sly old fox of Kinderhook,
He eyes the trap with wonder;
He thought ‘twould do for catching rats,
But “foxes” wouldn’t go under.

O come along, &c.

Tho’ Cass has lived all his six lives
In office, for the trimmings,
Yet Old Zack curries the longest pole,
And he’ll knock all the “‘SIMMONS.”

O come along, &c.

Nine Taylors to make a single man,
We always used to muster;
Take nine such Taylors as Old Zack,
And wouldn’t he be a buster!

O come along, &c.

Then come along with shout and song,
And “go it” strong, we’re able,
W’ell put Old Zack in the White House, boys,
Old Whitey in the White House stable.

O come along &c.

P.S. — Tho’ chicken thieves abuse Old Zack,
They’ll “catch it” if they’re taken,
For tho’ Joe Bennett stole the hog,
He didn’t save his bacon.

O come along, &c.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Sep 12, 1848

A WHIG CALL TO QUARTERS.

(Changed from the N.Y. Tribune.)

“Haul down the flag! — all’s over;
We have done what men could do,
Unbroken through adversity,
A tried and gallant crew;
So it has been with Truth and Right
In every age and clime.
Beaten, — borne down by the numbers, —
And conquered —– for a time.”

Such — when the fight was ending,
And our boldest men turned pale;
For the stoutest hearts had learned to fear
Under that driving gale;
When our ships were drifting helplessly
Upon the heaving tide,
And the good Kentucky liner
Poured in her last broadside —

Such, were our thoughts when beaten;
But how else should it be?
False flags and foreign bottoms
Gathered from every sea,
Freebooters of all nations
That sail the salt sea brine;
Thank God! there wasn’t one of them
Fought in the old Whig Line!

In the rough and bitter weather
And the angry tempest’s frown,
Few Whig ships were left together,
When the dismal sun went down,
Repairing the disasters
Of the storm and battle’s wreck;
But we still hear distant cheering
When we listen from the deck.

None know — so thick the night is,
What ships yet live or drown;
And the Constitution’s color
Are at half-mast, union down;
But the old ship heaves a rocket
Through the darkness for a sign,
And from the whole scattered squadron
See the dancing signals shine!

For the years are rolling over,
And the time has come again;
We have another fight to fight,
Another field to win,
The LAST field — for the country;
If but once more we fail;
Hoist your last rags of canvas,
And TRUST the favoring gale!

We were not always beaten;
Think of the times of yore!
Shake out the ancient ensign
We conquered with before!
The Flag of the Revolution
Flying as first it flew;
Up to the highest topmast!
Send up the Buff and Blue!

With shout for our new Commander,
Roll out that larboard gun,
Signal the beat to quarters,
There are fields yet to be won;
And while he nobly leads us —
While we with him conquering strive,
Nine Cheers for Admiral Taylor,
The bravest man alive!

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Sep 19, 1848

From the Rough and Ready Songster.

ROUGH AND READY.

Twas in the trench at Vera Cruz,
A group of soldiers lay,
Weary and worn with working
At the guns the live long day.
Their faces were begrimmed with sand,
And soot from shot and shell
Exploding in the crumbling earth —
For fast the missiles fell.

Yet cheerly they chatted,
For their hearts with hope beat high,
They knew the hour of victory
Was surely drawing nigh.
There came a war-worn soldier,
To mingle with the rest;
They bade him welcome to their cheer,
And gave him of the best.

He’d served with General Taylor,
And they asked him of the man,
Who first and last had led the way
To victory in the van —
On the winding Rio Grande
On the eighth and ninth of May,
And the storm of Monterey.

“I knew him first,” the soldier said,
“Among the Everglades,
When we gave the savage red-skins
Our bayonets and our blades.
I think I hear his cheerful voice:
‘On column!’ Steady! steady
So hardy and so prompt was he,
We called him Rough and Ready.

“He rode upon an old white horse;
And wore a brown surtout —
But, oftener, when the ground was deep,
He trudged with us on foot.
The man from whose canteen he drank
Was envied and though lucky;
He had the brave and kind good heart
The honored old Kentucky.

“By wounds outworn, I left the field;
But when a new campaign
Against another foe commenced,
I joined the ranks again.
‘Twas fun alive, boys, once again
To hear the sabre’s clank,
To see old Rough and Ready ride
His white horse on our flank.

“At Palo Alto comrades, there
He gave us work to do,
And o’er La Palma’s sulphury smoke
His flag triumphant flew.
When from the fire his aid-de-camp
Would have the chief retire,
Old Rough and Ready merely said,
‘We’ll ride a little nigher.’

“You should have seen the brave old boy
In the streets of Monterey,
When the cannon swept the plaza,
How he sternly stood at bay.
When shell, and grape, and cannon ball
On their deadly errand went —
The general seemed a man of steel,
And fire his element.

“And if a wounded soldier,
In the streets of Monterey,
Or friend or foe, looked up to him
Imploring, whence he lay,
He stooped to wipe the drops of pain
That dimmed the marble brow,
Or proffered from his own canteen
A drink — I see him now!

“At Red Buena Vista
My part I could not bear —
But they tell me that the brown surtout
And the old white horse were there.
And well do I believe it;
For the foe stood four to one —
And without old Rough and Ready
How had the fight been won?

“I’ve worn the sergeant’s chevron,
And I may wear it yet —
But old Rough and Ready tells me
I shall wear the epaulet;
But in the ranks or out of them,
To him I’ll still prove steady,
And long as I’ve a tongue to talk,
Speak out for Rough and Ready!

So spake the war-worn soldier
To his comrades as they lay
Beneath the breast-work, where they’d served
The guns the live-long day.
And their sleepiness and weariness
It fairly chased away,
When the Rio Grande’s hero
Spoke the man from Monterey.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Sep 26, 1848

A New Taylor Man.

Mr. Willis Hall, the Attorney, has gone over to Van Buren, but Mr. Willis, the Poet, has come over to Gen. Taylor. The exchange is a very good one for our side. We could expect no less from our old coadjutor and assistant, than he should follow the lead of the Mirror, in going for our candidate for the Presidency. The song that we publish from the Boston Atlas, by Mr. Willis, is decidedly the best Taylor song that has yet been published, and is worthy the reputation of the author.
[N.Y. Mirror.

TOE THE MARK — ‘TIS TAYLOR CAN.
A WHIG SONG — BY N.P. WILLIS.

TUNE: — “Dandy Jim of Caroline.” [original song LYRICS]

I.
Come Whigs! come brothers — one and all!
Flock to the “Rough and Ready” call!
Come stand up close and hear our song,
And follow it up with chorus strong!

Chorus

Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can —
Hero, sage, and kindly man!
In council great as in deadly fray,
But a plain old fellow for every day.

II.
Now, where has been for many a year,
This will so firm — this head so clear?
Such men, for Fame, will oceans swim!
Zack chose that Fame should come to him!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

III.
Zack’s coat is loose — his manner’s “rough” —
But, near him, hearts bow fast enough;
And the old great coat will do to wear!
Tho’ a bullet hole shows here and there!*
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

IV.
To faithful guard a weary post —
At any odds to fight a host —
To spare the weak — to keep his word —
To hold his own by pen or sword.
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

V.
When Hull’s surrender laid us low,
Fort Harrison next met the foe;
Hope saw the onset in despair —
She didn’t know old Zack was there!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

VI.
Worth twenty lives, the risk’d renown,
The desp’rate stake, to save Fort Brown!
But Palo Alto clear’d the track,
And through Resaca went Old Zack!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

VII.
By ruthless storm, at Monterey,
More proudly might have gone the day —
But wife and child stood by the foe,
And Taylor let the glory go!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

VIII.
But Polk began a rat to smell; —
Zack serv’d his country quite too well!
To his “high horse” they “hollered whoe!”
But couldn’t stop “old whitey” so!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

IX.
Supplies cut off — “boys” all away —
In doors, they thought, he’d have to stay,
And now Polk’s passport friend might call,
And laugh at Zack behind his wall.
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

X.
Down came Santa Ana, five to one,
With thanks to Polk, expecting fun!
Buena Vista wasn’t far,
Zack let him do his laughing “thar!”
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

XI.
Hard was the foe that day to drive —
One new recruit to veterans five!
But when it grew too tough, they say,
Old spy-glass came and turn’d the day!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

XII.
Buena Vista’s star is bright!
But where will fall its purest light!
On Zack’s last order, sad and low —
Bring in the wounded, friend and foe!”
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

XIII.
A heart with victory softer grown —
A head that knaves soon let alone —
A hand no foe drove ever back —
And a soul all truth has glorious Zack!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor can.

XIV.
Now if you’d like to know the school
Where Presidents best learn to rule —
Zack’s life is just the very one
God chose to train a Washington!
Toe the mark, ’tis Taylor’s can —
Hero, sage, and kindly man!
In council great, as in deadly fray —
But a plain old fellow for every day.

*NOTE. — It was mentioned in one account of the battle of Buena Vista, that Gen. Taylor’s grey great coat had two bullet-holes through it, when he took it off after the action.
[Boston Atlas.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Oct 31, 1848

From the Newark Daily Advertiser.

BUENA VISTA.

AIR — STAR SPANGLED BANNER.

I.
Night-shadows fell cold at the closing of day,
Where the morrow should see valor’s contest with numbers;
The bivouaked armies in hostile array
Sank to rest, while the sentries kept watch o’er their slumbers.
‘Neath the stars few to fight the proud foe in his might,
While loved hearts afar, quailed with fear at the sight;
But the soldier reposed, with the dreams of the brave
That the Stars and the Stripes should triumphantly wave.

II.
The drum and the bugle aroused them at morn
And they sprang to their arms for the contest of glory;
Their chieftain that flag, long defeatless, had borne,
With a fame that shall ne’er be forgotten in story.
Like the waves of the main swept their horse o’er the plain,
While red grew each hill and ravine with the slain;
But they saw through the battle cloud’s darkness, the brave,
That star flag, though torn, still triumphantly wave.

III.
O’er wearied they sank on their weapons to rest
When the night-cloud again on their valor descended,
Mid comrades the noblest, the bravest and best
Who slept their last sleep where their courage contended.
But when broke the day, O! where — where were they —
The proud legions of night? — in their fear fled away!
Then gladly they saw that star-flag o’er the brave,
In the sheen of the morning triumphantly wave.

IV.
All hail to the Hero who valiantly led
First and foremost the rank of his country’s defenders!
For now we have railed, and made him our head,
First in peace to proclaim him who never surrenders.
The laurel wreath fair from his brow none can tear,
But still greener shall bloom in the President’s chair;
And the nation, rewarding the honest and brave,
Shall behold, its star-banner triumphantly wave.

V.
O! the Ides of November will tell them a tale
In a voice that shall echo like Waterloo’s thunder;
And autumn winds mournfully whistle and wail
A sad dirge for officials who fatten on plunder.
Corruption’s dark blight far shall flee from HIS sight
Who asked for no favors yet feared not the fight;
And as Buena Vista beheld o’er the brave,
That Star-flag o’er us shall triumphantly wave.

NEWARK, Oct. 11, 1848.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Nov 7, 1848

[Written for the Dalem Taylor Glee Club.]

SONG.

TUNE — “O, carry me back to Old Virginia. [original lyrics and music]

These stirring time — these stirring times —
We’ve worked both night and day,
With rousing speeches and merry rhymes,
Our toil has been but play.
And now we’ve whipped both Cass and Van,
We need not work any more —
Oh row them up the old Salt river,
And set them on the shore.
Oh row them up, &c.

Now the women all, both great and small,
Have gone for honest Zack;
And every married Taylor man
Has a Taylor wife at his back.
While the maidens fair, they all declare,
Their brightest smiles are for
The gallant youth, who love the truth,
And Cass and Van abhor.
Oh row them up, &c.

See in their State, the damsels wait,
On the man they delight to honor;
There’s Flora Day, so far away,
Our blessings rest upon her;
And Delia Ware, so fresh and fair,
Did her hero worship prove;
While Louisa Anna has shown she can a
Fine old veteran love.
Oh row them up, &c.

Miss Carolina she is as fine a
Girl as walks the earth,
And Georgia, too, she is true blue,
And does credit to her birth;
But of all my land, Miss Rhody Island,
Has made it clear to sight,
That Providence smiles on woman’s wiles,
When she uses them aright.
Oh row them up, &c.

We give our hand to Mary Land,
For she’s a real lady;
But Miss. S. Sippi is too tippy,
To vote for Rough and Ready.
Miss Souri and Virginia,
(Now is it not too shocking?)
Say –‘No, we will not let you in,
So prithee ‘stop that knocking.”
So row them up, &c.

Each Taylor man has done what he can,
And worked with right good will,
With thought and sense and eloquence,
That to head and heart appeal,
Yet ’tis but human that every woman
Should in our cause assist;
And all must own, that behind the throne,
Is a power than none can resist.
We’ve rowed them up the old Salt river,
And set them on the shore.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Dec 26, 1848

For the Huron Reflector.

SOME ROUGH AND READY RHYMES.

TUNE — HAMMERMAN’S SONG.

Now the campaign of ’48
Has reached a joyous close!
The Whigs have gained their President,
In spite of all their foes.

Chorus

And here’s to the Old Keystone State!
For she has nobly done;
And home protection she shall have
Without the advalorem;
Without the advalorem, boys,
Without the advalorem;
And home protection she shall have
Without the advalorem.

The Loco lads unfurled their flag,
With “Cass and Butler too;”
But ‘gainst Old Zack they could not stand,
Old Zack the brave and true.

The leaders thought that all was safe
As in the days of yore;
But the Whigs unfurled a nobler flag,
With “Taylor and Fillmore.”

Now Mat’s retired to private life,
And Butler is no more;
The craft that bore old Cass away,
Has reached Salt River’s shore.

Chorus

And here’s to the great Empire State,
She has done nobly too;
And out of members thirty-four,
She give us thirty two.
She gives us thirty-two my boys,
She gives us thirty-two;
And out of members thirty-four,
She gives us thirty-two.

The shores are bad, the River rough,
And oh, how hard they toil!
The Locofoco leaders now
For help cry out “Free Soil!”

Ah! doughfaces, hold down your heads,
Your Cass is fairly beat,
By that Free Soil for which he said
We could not legislate.

Call not for shame, upon that name,
Or raise your idle bark?
For when the question was brought up,
You didn’t toe the mark.

That Free Soil robe you have put on,
Will never stand the dye,
‘Tis like the morning’s gossamers
That with the zephyrs fly.

You now may put up tongue and pen;
There’s nothing you can do,
Our Territories come in free
Before next fifty-two!

Old Zack, you’re now our President,
The Whigs fell wondrous nice;
But ere you start from Baton Rouge,
I’ll give you some advice.

Chorus

And here’s to the New England States!
I know they Slavery hate;
But Free Soil traps could not catch them
With Matty for their bait.
With Matty for their bait, my boys,
With Matty for their bait,
But Free Soil traps could not catch them,
With Matty for their bait.

Now when you go to Washington,
Forget all past abuse;
[But never rest until you’re cleared
Tom Benton’s buzzard roost!

If office-seekers should come round,
Give Jamie Polk a share,
For he has labored wondrous hard
To put you in the Chair.

And as respects your Cabinet,
I have one word to say;
Let your first choice be first in worth,
Our glorious HARRY CLAY.

When legislation gets on smart,
And Jack Calhoun looks sour;
Then Zack, this last advice respect,
Don’t use the Veto power.

A ZACK WHIG

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Dec 26, 1848

From the New-York Tribune.

“So Say we All.”

The other day a  trot came off — ’twas Suffolk versus Polk —
I railwayed to the trotting course, along with many folk;
I staked my cash on “Jemmy K.”  they told me he would win,
But then, too soon I found, alas! that I was taken in.
To Saratoga then I went — to dance I had a will.
And asked a damsel that I saw to dance in the quadrille;
She said me yes — confound the girl, I’d dearly like to choke her,
For she knew how — but I did not — to tumble thro’ the Polka;
Music struck up, and we struck out — oh! ’twas a thing of course;
I lost my BALANCE, as I did when betting on the horse;
And now I hear another Polk will run another race
Upon the Presidential course, against the old “white face.”
But on my life, I swear to you, that General Lewis Cass
Can’t get the man who backed the horse to LOSE UPON THE ASS.

A BETTER.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Sep 12, 1848

Lewis Cass

When the Locofocos tell us how Gen. Cass behaved on surrendering himself to the British, they take a very unfair advantage of us. We cannot point them to old Rough and Ready’s behavour at a surrender. — Prentice.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Sep 5, 1848

*****

In the book, Lewis Cass and the Politics of Moderation (Google Books LINK) pg. 13: More about the surrender.

Margaret Taylor (Image from http://www.whitehousehistory.org)

The President elect is a joker. At a tavern in Maryland, while he was waiting for the Baltimore train, among others who introduced themselves was one of the obiquitous Smith family. On hearing the name, Gen. Taylor remarked, with a merry twinkling of the eye —

“That’s no name at all.”

“Why, General,” replied Mr. Smith, “you should have no objection to the name, Mrs. Taylor was a Smith.”

“Yes,” added he promptly, “but I made her change her name, and I advise you to do so too.”

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Apr 3, 1849

Home of Zachary Taylor, "Springfield," Brownsboro Road

Correspondence of the New York Express.

Old Zack at Home.

WASHINGTON, March, 27, 1849.

The President is one of the most humorous and campanionable bodies of the metropolis. — He satisfies everybody here, which is more than anybody else does, and amuses even those who are disappointed. He enjoys himself much, I should think, but whether he does or not, everybody is at home where he is.

Upon the reception days the ladies are first cared for and served. He offers an arm to one, a seat to another, tells a third where his daughter and niece are to be found, and has the faculty of entertaining a dozen at a time. When the ladies are all attended to, he has a kind word for the gentlemen, and a dozen for little children, if any are around him. The more formal visitors address him as “Mr. President;” the less formal as “General Taylor,” which he seems rather to prefer.

There are no servants or attendants about him, and when he wants to see any of his household he goes to them rather than have them come to him. “Excuse me for introducing myself,” said a gentleman the other day. “No excuse is necessary, sir. Here, if anywhere, the people have a right to come without an introduction.”

“I have been a soldier for forty years,” said an old Marylander to him the other day, “but not so successful as you, General Taylor.”

“Only,” said old Zack in reply, “because you had not so many opportunities to win success.”

Old men, young children and ladies, seem to be the favorite companions of the President. For the first he has the respect and care due to old age, for the second, the love of a patriot, and for the last, the gallantry of a soldier and a well bred Southern man.

Truth seems to be with him the highest standard of politeness, and he will not seem what he does not feel and what he is not at heart.

The other day having visited Mrs. John Quincy Adams, and Mrs. Madison, he rode up hill and down dale in pursuit of Mrs. Alexander Hamilton. It was long before he found her, (having recently changed her lodgings,) but he went from one end of the city to the other, and seemed to enjoy the interview mightily.

Indeed the practice of the President is to learn all he can of the past, and from men who knew most of the early Presidents and the early history of the Government. Washington’s farewell address he has treasured up  within his heart of hearts, and Washington’s life and Washington’s example, is the mirror of his own life. “What do you propose,” says a friend to him now and then. “What Washington did,” and he always has a word or incident to illustrate what he means.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) May 8, 1849

Death of the President.

This even, so solemn and important in its character, so sudden and startling in its announcement, has thrown the mantle of unspeakable sorrow over the nation. But sixteen months and a few days had elapsed since ZACHARY TAYLOR assumed the Presidential office, to the period of his death, yet in that brief interval, he had enthroned himself in the affections and confidence of the people, with a power possessed by none of his predecessors save Washington.

Like him, he was “first in war,” leading the armies of the Republic in a perilous contest over doubtful battlefields, every one of which by his prowess was converted into a field of victory. Like him, he was “first in peace,” conducting the difficult and delicate relations of our Government with foreign powers and so perintending its domestic concerns at a period of extraordinary perplexity and trouble, in a manner to promote the general peace and prosperity, and to compel the admiration and gratitude of all nations abroad and all parties at home. In less than five years, he had risen from a station of comparative obscurity, and by the force of his military and civil acts, the wisdom of his public policy, and the virtues of his private character, he had placed himself in advance of all the living men of the nation, “first in the hearts of his countrymen.

He had served his race with the zeal of a Philanthropist, his country with the valor of a Hero, and the devotion of a Patriot, and his God with the fidelity of a Christian. To translate the voice of this great public bereavement, words are weak —

To pronounce his eulogy, they are needless.

Let his last words be his only epitaph, “I am prepared — I have endeared to do my duty.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Jul 16, 1850

THE LATE PRESIDENT.

The following brief sketch of Gen. TAYLOR’s career we take from the Inquirer. The events of his life within the last four years are too familiar to the public, to need a more extended recapitulation. The renown of the Mexican campaign has added a page to the history of the country which will be repeated for ages, and the name of Taylor will be mentioned whenever courage, exalted patriotism and public worth are spoken of:

Gen. Taylor was born in Orange county, Va., in 1790 [24 Nov 1784]. His father, Col. Taylor, served in the war of the revolution, and in 1789 emigrated from Virginia to Kentucky, where he bore a conspicuous part in the labors and struggles of the early settlers. In May, 1808, Zachary Taylor was commissioned as a Lieutenant in the 7th Regiment of U.S. Infantry. In 1812 he was captain, and placed in command of Fort Harrison on the Wabash. When the war with Great Britain commenced, the fort was attacked by 400 Indians, and for his successful defence of it, he was brevetted major. After that war, he received the rank of colonel and during the Black-Hawk war in 1832, distinguished himself at the battle of Bad-axe, whice resulted in the capture of Black-Hawk and the Prophet.

In 1836, he was ordered to Florida in command of a separate column, and in December, 1837, fought at the battle of Okee-cho-bee, which resulted in the total defeat of a large body of the Indians. In May, 1845, Texas was annexed to the Union, and in the August following, Gen. Taylor, then in command of the first department of the army, proceeded with a portion of his troops to Corpus Christi. On the 11th of March, 1846, he took up his line of march for the Rio Grande, where he arrived on the 28th. On the 12th of April he was summoned by the Mexican General to evacuate his post on the river, which he refused to do.

On the 1st of May he left his entrenchments, opposite Matamoras, to open the communication with point Isabel. On the 8th of May, on his return to relieve Fort Brown, which was bombarded by the Mexicans, he was encountered by 6000 of the enemy at Palo Alto, whom he defeated. His own force consisted of two thousand one hundred men. The next day, the 9th, he again met them at Resaca de la Palmo, and after a hard-fought battle, routed them with slaughter, and took possession of Matamoras. These two signal victories, obtained with such disparity of force, produced an enthusiastic admiration of Gen. Taylor, and of his gallant companions in arms.

On the 21st and 22d of September he assaulted Monterey, a fortified city in Mexico, which, after a desperate resistance, capitulated. On the 22d of February, 1847, with a force consisting of five thousand men, (General Wool being second in command,) he encountered the Mexicans at Buena Vista, under Santa Anna, twenty thousand strong, and totally defeated them.

On the 14th February, 1849, on an examination of the electoral votes for President and Vice President, he was declared duly elected President of the United States, and was inaugurated on the 4th [5th] of March following. He thus occupied the office of Chief Magistrate a few days more than sixteen months.

Tioga Eagle (Wellsboro, Pennsylvania) Jul 17, 1850

NOTE: The above article gives a good, brief, biographical summary, but some of the dates are off, which I have noted, and there are also several typos/spelling errors, which I left in.

*****

Zachary Taylor Memorial on Find-A-Grave

Forgotten Presidents