The Van Burens: Lives Rich with Words, Poor wth Clout

An American Tragedy: The Van Buren Dynasty

When Martin Van Buren (1782-1862) was sworn in as eighth President of the United States, he was widely esteemed for his short, flabby exterior, as well as for his pugnacious and vinegary demeanor. The “Log Cabin and Hard Cider”-type candidate, while certainly no longer considered “presidential” by today’s 24-hour news circus standards, was considered very much the marks of a true leader in the World of 1837. Moments after raising his right hand and putting his left on the Statenvertaling, the “Red Fox” from New York spoke to the nation words that would eventually haunt him throughout his one-term presidency:

How imperious, then, is the obligation imposed upon every citizen, in his own sphere of action, whether limited or extended, to exert himself in perpetuating a condition of things so singularly happy! Position and climate and the bounteous resources that nature has scattered with so liberal a hand—even the diffused intelligence and elevated character of our people—will avail us nothing if we fail sacredly to uphold those political institutions that were wisely and deliberately formed with reference to every circumstance that could preserve or might endanger the blessings we enjoy as the thoughtful framers of our Constitution legislated for our country as they found it—looking upon it with the eyes of statesmen and patriots—they saw all the sources of rapid and wonderful prosperity; but they saw also that various habits, opinions and institutions peculiar to the various portions of so vast a region were deeply—

(At this point, Van Buren was interrupted by thunderous applause.)

Historians tend to focus on his overall incompetence and failure in office—and these celebrated pedants have their reasons. But who was this “Red Fox”? A man who could never live up to the ideals of his hard-nosed Dutch ancestry nor the shadow of the Jacksonian Era, Van Buren’s time in office was marked by alcoholism, betrayal, and—ultimately—death.

The Real Panic of 1837: The Caroline Affair

Historians seem to overlook this major milestone in American history because, oh look: here’s a depression and suddenly everyone’s an economist. Whigs, Democrats, and a bunch of gray-flanneled Van Buren-ites alike with their free advice! Like they know anything about money! Van Buren certainly didn’t, though it should be noted that he took a pointed interest in the destruction of the Caroline, a fishing boat lit on fire by Canadian loyalists and pushed over Niagara Falls, killing one American, and pissing a lot of people off. President Van Buren, too, was furious. Taking pen in hand, he wrote a strongly-worded letter and sent Daniel Webster to London to deliver it to United Kingdom Privy Counsellor Alexander Baring, 1st Baron Ashburton. But Webster accidentally lost the letter. Upon arrival in London, the sweaty Secretary of State nervously tried his best to reword it in person, but all he could come up with was the Webster-Ashburton Treaty. This made Webster a hero at local taverns, stealing Van Buren’s thunder. It was not coincidental that around this time Van Buren started staring blankly out windows and spending more time in the kitchen then in his office.

But where was Van Buren’s wife during all this? Hannah Hoes Van Buren (1783-1819), known by friends and enemies alike as the “Kinderhook Queen” was famous for her shy nature and her love of New York in the late autumn months just before the first snow fell. She is probably more famous, however, for being America’s First Lady to not live in the White House. And not because there were troubles at home—nudge, nudge—Clintons anybody? She didn’t live in the White House because she was dead!

America's Second Deceased First Lady

In kind of a fucked up situation, it was actually Martin Van Buren’s daughter-in-law Angelica Singleton Van Buren (1818-1877) who took over duties reserved for the president’s wife. I don’t know to what degree she took those duties seriously, but no doubt Mr. Van Buren’s son would have something to say if they extended beyond decorating and serving dinner to diplomats! I know I would have something to say about it! Let’s not forget Jackson’s “First Lady” and the Petticoat Affair! Now I’m not naming names, but somebody was obviously intoxicated.

Abraham Van Buren (1807-1873)

Van Buren’s son Abe made a brave lieutenant colonel during the Mexican-American War and was known for his gallantry and meritorious conduct during the battles of Churubusco and Contreras. He spent the majority of his declining years editing and publishing his father’s fictitious spy novels. The first of these was published in 1862 and received a 9% approval rating by Rotten Tomatoes based on 129 reviews and was generally considered a flop due to, 1) America’s new-found fascination with civil war, and 2) spy thrillers would not become commonplace for another three or four decades. Upon closer inspection, the reader will discover that President Van Buren simply rewrote the plot lines and characters from American writer James Fenimore Cooper’s The Bravo (1831) but more specifically, the excellent (though very much underrated) The Crater, or Vulcan's Peak (1847). The latter was widely known to be one of Van Buren’s personal favorites, despite him denying who Cooper was. Victor Hugo said famously of Martin Van Buren’s third and final novel Crater’s Peak (1866): “surely, this is the work of a madman.”

Shortly after his death, Mr. Hugo received the high honor of being buried in the same coffin as Alexandre Dumas, père (as well as Émile Zola) in the Panthéon in Paris. Upon discovering damage to Hugo's body given Dumas’ incredibly large size and small coffin, however, in 1887 Hugo’s misshapen corpse was sent to New Jersey where he is currently buried alongside his faithful mistress, Juliette Drouet. She would have preferred it that way, really.

Abraham took the high road, having himself cremated. His ashes can be found in the Blue Room of the Zachary Taylor Presidential Library in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Fun Fact!

In addition to being featured on the vastly unpopular Presidential Dollar Series in 2008*, did you know that Van Buren had a brief stint on the American 20 dollar bill? Despite an embarrassing misspelling of his name for its first year (underneath his mutton chops it read: “Martin Van Burtin”), the U.S. Treasury kept his kisser on the double sawbuck for three years (1901-1904).

* On April 4, 2009, the proprietor of a Calhoun, GA Shell Station punched a man in the face for trying to purchase condoms with Ronald Reagan Dollar Coins.