Remembering Millard Fillmore
Millard Fillmore, the 13th President of the United States, died on March 8, 1874 (139 years ago today) at the age of 74. He was the last member of the Whig Party to hold the office of president. As Zachary Taylor's Vice President, he assumed the presidency after Taylor's death.
Fillmore's reputation as president was tarnished because of his opposing the proposal to keep slavery out of the territories annexed during the Mexican–American War in order to appease the South. He supported and signed the Compromise of 1850, which included the Fugitive Slave Act (or "Bloodhound Law" as it was called). On the foreign policy front, he encouraged trade with Japan and clashed with the French over Napoleon III's attempt to annex Hawaii. After his presidency, he joined the Know-Nothing movement; throughout the Civil War, he opposed President Abraham Lincoln and during Reconstruction supported President Andrew Johnson.
In keeping with this month's theme (excepts from presidential biographies) here is what his biographer Robert J. Rayback says about his subject in the 1998 book Millard Fillmore: Biography of a President at page 431:
To the question: What should an ex-president do as a private citizen? His last eighteen years answered: give his talents to his community. From 1856 onward his handsome figure stalked the town purposefully as he made his rounds from committee to committee in search of action to improve the city [of Buffalo]. Each year his hair grew whiter and his tread less resilient, but his enthusiasm never waned. A stubborn desire for accomplishment and its resulting glow of satisfaction kept him going. He worked on numerous committees without publicity while others enjoyed the applause. None could accuse him of seeking either gain or glory.
The author describes his subjects final days and his legacy at page 444-5:
[A]s late as January 7, 1874 Fillmore could brag, with an old man's attention to health, "My health is perfect. I eat, drink and sleep as well as ever, and take a deep but silent interest in public affairs, and if Mrs. F's health can be restored, I should feel that I was in the enjoyment of an earthly paradise."
The heavenly paradise, however, was not far away. Five weeks later, on the morning of February 13, as he was shaving, his left hand suddenly fell powerless. The paralysis soon extended to the left side of his face. Two weeks later he had a second attack and on March 8, the end came.
Two days later his body was taken from the mansion on Niagara Square. Hundreds of city-notables, representing every organization he had nurtured in his half-century of public service, followed the funeral procession out stately Delaware Avenue to Forest Lawn Cemetery. A tombstone - a stark obelisk of classic propositions - would eventually mark the grave and state simply:
Millard Fillmore
Born January 7, 1800
Died March 8, 1874
A later generation, better able to evaluate Fillmore's work when the passion of the era of sectional conflict had passed, erected a statue of their first citizen before the City Hall on Niagara Square. Beneficently it looked out over the community which he helped create and which shaped his destiny. Eloquently it spoke out part of the story of his life. In its stony coldness however, it could not reveal the warmth and wisdom with which he had defended the union.
Fillmore's reputation as president was tarnished because of his opposing the proposal to keep slavery out of the territories annexed during the Mexican–American War in order to appease the South. He supported and signed the Compromise of 1850, which included the Fugitive Slave Act (or "Bloodhound Law" as it was called). On the foreign policy front, he encouraged trade with Japan and clashed with the French over Napoleon III's attempt to annex Hawaii. After his presidency, he joined the Know-Nothing movement; throughout the Civil War, he opposed President Abraham Lincoln and during Reconstruction supported President Andrew Johnson.
In keeping with this month's theme (excepts from presidential biographies) here is what his biographer Robert J. Rayback says about his subject in the 1998 book Millard Fillmore: Biography of a President at page 431:
To the question: What should an ex-president do as a private citizen? His last eighteen years answered: give his talents to his community. From 1856 onward his handsome figure stalked the town purposefully as he made his rounds from committee to committee in search of action to improve the city [of Buffalo]. Each year his hair grew whiter and his tread less resilient, but his enthusiasm never waned. A stubborn desire for accomplishment and its resulting glow of satisfaction kept him going. He worked on numerous committees without publicity while others enjoyed the applause. None could accuse him of seeking either gain or glory.
The author describes his subjects final days and his legacy at page 444-5:
[A]s late as January 7, 1874 Fillmore could brag, with an old man's attention to health, "My health is perfect. I eat, drink and sleep as well as ever, and take a deep but silent interest in public affairs, and if Mrs. F's health can be restored, I should feel that I was in the enjoyment of an earthly paradise."
The heavenly paradise, however, was not far away. Five weeks later, on the morning of February 13, as he was shaving, his left hand suddenly fell powerless. The paralysis soon extended to the left side of his face. Two weeks later he had a second attack and on March 8, the end came.
Two days later his body was taken from the mansion on Niagara Square. Hundreds of city-notables, representing every organization he had nurtured in his half-century of public service, followed the funeral procession out stately Delaware Avenue to Forest Lawn Cemetery. A tombstone - a stark obelisk of classic propositions - would eventually mark the grave and state simply:
Millard Fillmore
Born January 7, 1800
Died March 8, 1874
A later generation, better able to evaluate Fillmore's work when the passion of the era of sectional conflict had passed, erected a statue of their first citizen before the City Hall on Niagara Square. Beneficently it looked out over the community which he helped create and which shaped his destiny. Eloquently it spoke out part of the story of his life. In its stony coldness however, it could not reveal the warmth and wisdom with which he had defended the union.