They don't make conventions the way they used to

The small script in the illustration above (''sketched on the spot by W. Sharp'') notes that ''a portion only of the Delegates on foot have yet reached the hill'' - Boston's Bunker Hill, that is, where the Whigs were convening in 1840. Below is ''The National Whig Song'' of the same year, hailing the ''olden time'' virtues of William Henry Harrison, who defeated the Democratic incumbent, Martin Van Buren. We don't know how many delegates are arriving on foot at America's party conventions this year. Or how many ''olden time'' virtues will be hailed. I'll sing you now a new Whig song, made to a good old rhyme, Of a fine, true-hearted gentleman, all of the olden time; By birth and blood, by kith and kin, a sound, true Whig was he, For his father signed the charter that made our country free. Like a fine, true-hearted gentleman, All of the olden time. And when he's served his country well, in Senate and in field, The honors that awaited him most freely did he yield; He turned him to his home again, and sought a Farmer's toils, For, though he's filled the offices, he never took the spoils. Like a fine, true-hearted gentleman, All of the olden time. Let every sound, true-hearted Whig now raise his voice on high, And, for the triumph of the cause, join Freedom's loudest cry; Come to the fight; we'll win the field - away with doubts and fears; The People's man is Harrison - let's give him three good cheers, For he's a fine, true-hearted gentleman, All of the olden time!

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