The presidential campaign of William Henry Harrison and John Tyler was described in 1840 as the most memorable ever known to party annals in this country. This book describes its events from the opening roar of cannon for the Whig standard bearers in the log-cabin and hard-cider campaign to the death of Harrison soon after he took office.

The presidential campaign of William Henry Harrison and John Tyler was described in 1840 as the most memorable ever known to party annals in this country. This book describes its events from the opening roar of cannon for the Whig standard bearers in the log-cabin and hard-cider campaign to the death of Harrison soon after he took office.

The Carnival Campaign tells the fascinating story of the pivotal 1840 presidential campaign of General William Henry Harrison and John Tyler—"Tippecanoe and Tyler Too." Pulitzer Prize–nominated former Wall Street Journal reporter Ronald Shafer relates in a colorful, entertaining style how the campaign marked a series of "firsts" that changed politicking forever: the first campaign as mass entertainment; the first "image campaign," in which strategists portrayed Harrison as a poor man living in a log cabin sipping hard cider (he lived in a mansion and drank only sweet cider); the first time big money was a factor; the first time women could openly participate; and more. While today's electorate has come to view campaigns that emphasize style over substance as a matter of course, this book shows voters how it all began.

William Henry Harrison died just 31 days after taking the oath of office in 1841. Today he is a curiosity in American history, but as Collins shows in this entertaining and revelatory biography, he and his career are worth a closer look.

A look at how presidential campaigning changed between 1824 to 1840, leading to a new surge in voter participation: “A pleasure to read.” —Robert M. Owens, author of Mr. Jefferson’s Hammer After the “corrupt bargain” that awarded John Quincy Adams the presidency in 1825, American politics underwent a fundamental shift from deference to participation. This changing tide eventually propelled Andrew Jackson into the White House—twice. But the presidential race that best demonstrated the extent of the changes was that of Martin Van Buren and war hero William Henry Harrison in 1840. Harrison’s campaign was famously marked by sloganeering and spirited rallies. In The Coming of Democracy, Mark R. Cheathem examines the evolution of presidential campaigning from 1824 to 1840. Addressing the roots of early republic cultural politics—from campaign biographies to songs, political cartoons, and public correspondence between candidates and voters—Cheathem asks the reader to consider why such informal political expressions increased so dramatically during the Jacksonian period. What sounded and looked like mere entertainment, he argues, held important political meaning. The extraordinary voter participation rate—over 80 percent—in the 1840 presidential election indicated that both substantive issues and cultural politics drew Americans into the presidential selection process. Drawing on period newspapers, diaries, memoirs, and public and private correspondence, The Coming of Democracy is the first book-length treatment to reveal how presidents and presidential candidates used both old and new forms of cultural politics to woo voters and win elections in the Jacksonian era. This book, winner of an award from the Phi Alpha Theta History Honor Society, is excellent and thought-provoking reading for anyone interested in US politics, the Jacksonian/antebellum era, or the presidency.

Examines the backgrounds of each of our presidents, argues that their families were better off than the average American family, and discusses the whole presidential selection process

It’s a faraway age of hope and inclusivity; in other words, it’s 2015. When a tight-knit circle of married gays and lesbians – comfy in the new mainstream – see themselves through the eyes of their rakish transgender pal, it’s clear that the march toward progress is anything but unified. With stinging satire and acute compassion, Jordan Harrison’s pointed comedy charts the breakdown of empathy that happens when we think our rights are secure, revealing conservative hearts where you’d least expect.