Today, free association. Because I used to work for the Association of Free Lutheran Congregations. (Actually, no – I just free-associated that thought.)
What actually happened was that I was reading the latest issue of the Acton Institute’s Religion & Liberty magazine today, and saw an article about the founding father John Dickinson. My brain burped, and somehow the name came out “Dick Johnson” in my mind.
That sent me sliding down the memory hole, to my antique boyhood. One of the only books we had in our home was the anthology of light verse, What Cheer, published by Modern Library, edited by David McCord. I spent a lot of time with that book, understanding about half of what I read but fascinated by the rhyme, rhythm, and word play. One of the poems that caught my fancy was an American political ditty about the politician and soldier Richard Mentor Johnson (1780-1850). I can’t find the poem in my own copy at the moment, but I remember the chorus going, “Rumpsey-dumpsy, rumpsey-dumpsy; I, Dick Johnson, killed Tecumseh.”
The poem struck me at the time because I had a schoolteacher named Dick Johnson. I wondered, vaguely, who this Dick Johnson might be (I did not wonder about Tecumseh. Contrary to what the educational demagogues are telling us today, we did learn about Native Americans in school back then). Once the internet became available, I eventually looked the man up. He had a fascinating story, one that demonstrates some of the overlooked nuances in American history.
Going straight to the headline, Richard Johnson was Vice President of the United States under Martin Van Buren. He holds the distinction of being the only V.P. ever elected by the Senate under the provisions of the Twelfth Amendment of the Constitution.
Johnson was a Kentuckian. He attended Transylvania University and became a lawyer, being noted for doing pro bono work for the poor. Among the properties he inherited from his father was a female slave of mixed race, what they called an “octoroon,” named Julia Chinn. He fell in love with her. It was illegal for them to marry, but Johnson treated her as a common law wife and acknowledged their children. This arrangement would impair his political career, but he remained faithful to her until her death in 1833. Both their daughters married white men, though they were not permitted to inherit his property.
He served in the Kentucky House of Representatives, and then became the first native Kentuckian elected to Congress. He was one of the “war hawks” in the run-up to the War of 1812. Notably, he supported the claims of Alexander Hamilton’s widow to army wages which her late husband had refused during the Revolution, despite the fact that Hamilton had been a member of the opposition party.
Back in Kentucky, Johnson raised a troop of 300 volunteers for the war and they elected him their major; later he became a colonel. Most of these volunteers’ actions were against the Native Americans allied with the British. At the Battle of the Thames in October 1813, he led a charge against the Shawnee leader Tecumseh in which Tecumseh was killed. Johnson himself never claimed to have fired the shot that struck that charismatic man down, but several others said he did. Historians are undecided.
The capitol was in ruins, burned by the English, when Johnson returned to congress in 1814, and they met in temporary quarters. As a legislator, Johnson pushed for pensions for military widows and orphans, and for public improvements in the west.
In 1819 he was elected to the Senate (state legislatures did it back in those days, you may recall). In 1820 he voted in favor of a law to bar slavery north of the 36˚30’ north latitude line (with the exception of Missouri). In 1822 he proposed a bill outlawing imprisonment for debtors in the US. It did not pass, but he reintroduced it every year. (Full disclosure – he had debt troubles of his own.)
He became a supporter of Andrew Jackson, and was one of the original founders of the Democratic Party in 1828. In 1825 he succeeded in getting funding for a school for children of the Choctaw nation which was established on his own property and which he oversaw (there were accusations of conflict of interest).
On an amusing note, Johnson sponsored a bill in 1823 for funding an expedition to discover whether the earth was hollow. This proposal failed. In 1828 he lost a race for reelection to the senate. He returned to the House in 1829. In 1832, his law to abolish debtor’s prisons finally went through. He was considered as Andrew Jackson’s running mate in 1832, but Martin Van Buren got the nod. Friends, including Davy Crockett, urged Johnson to run for president in 1836, but he ended up as Van Buren’s running mate. Much of Johnson’s political opposition rose from distaste, especially in the south, for his racially mixed domestic situation. Thus, though Van Buren did win the presidency, Johnson got considerably fewer electoral votes, and the race was thrown into the Senate, as mentioned above.
His tenure as vice president was not notable, except for continuing accusations of conflict of interest, and his adoption of a personal fashion brand – he made it a practice to wear a red tie and vest at all times. In 1840, although Van Buren was reelected, Johnson was not. By that time, it is reported, his mind was beginning to fail.
Back home in Kentucky, he served in the state legislature and was one of Daniel Boone’s pallbearers. He died of a stroke, aged 70.
The early 19th Century is a somewhat neglected period in our common memory, it seems to me, except for a few incidents like the Alamo and the California Gold Rush. But I always found it a fascinating time, full of idiosyncrasies, as the new country tried out its muscles, tested its limits, and tried to figure out exactly what kind of a country it wanted to be.