Meanwhile the country came to the election of 1836.  From the time of Van Buren’s withdrawal from the Cabinet in 1831 to become, with Jackson’s full approval, a candidate for the vice presidency, there never was doubt that the New Yorker would be the Democratic presidential nominee in 1836, or that his election would mean a continuation, in most respects, of the Jacksonian regime.  Never did a President more clearly pick his successor.  There was, of course, some protest within the party.  Van Buren was not popular, and it required all of the personal and official influence that the President could bring to bear, backed up by judicious use of the patronage, to carry his program through.  At that, his own State rebelled and, through a resolution of the Legislature, put itself behind the candidacy of Senator Hugh L. White.  The bold actions of his second Administration, defiant alike of precedent and opposition, had alienated many of the President’s more intelligent and conservative followers.  Yet the allegiance of the masses was unshaken; and when the Democratic convention assembled at Baltimore in May, 1835,—­a year and a half before the election—­the nomination of Van Buren was secured without a dissenting vote.  There was no need to adopt a platform; everybody understood that Jackson’s policies were the platform, and that Jackson himself was as truly before the electorate as if he had been a candidate for a third term.  In his letter of acceptance Van Buren met all expectations by declaring his purpose “to tread generally in the footsteps of President Jackson.”

The anti-Administration forces entered the campaign with no flattering prospects.  Since 1832 their opposition to “executive usurpation” had won for them a new party name, “Whig.”  But neither their opposition nor any other circumstance had given them party solidarity.  National Republicans, anti-Masons, converted Jacksonians, state rights men—­upon what broad and constructive platform could they hope to unite?  They had no lack of able presidential aspirants.  There was Clay, the National Republican candidate in 1832; there was Webster, of whom Jackson once said that he would never be President because he was “too far east, knows too much, and is too honest”; and there were lesser lights, such as Judge John McLean.  But, again, how could the many discordant groups be rallied to the support of any single leader?

Jackson predicted in 1834 that his opponents would nominate William Henry Harrison, because “they have got to take up a soldier; they have tried orators enough.”  The prophecy was a shrewd one, and in 1840 it was fulfilled to the letter.  Upon the present occasion, however, the leaders decided to place no single nominee in the field, but rather to bring forward a number of candidates who could be expected to develop local strength and so to split the vote as to throw the final choice into the House of Representatives.  This seemed the only hope of circumventing Van Buren’s election.  Four sectional candidates entered the race:  Webster was backed by New England; the Northwest united on Harrison; the Southwest joined the Tennessee revolters in support of White; Ohio had her own candidate in the person of McLean.