TO JOHN ADAMS.

“WASHINGTON, _16th April, 1819_.

“Yes! my dear sir, was my mind sufficiently strong or capacious to

understand, or even to comprehend the study of ancient and modern

philosophy, I am certain I should derive very great advantage from that

study; but you certainly forgot when you recommended it, that you were

addressing the weaker sex, to whom stoicism would be both unamiable and

unnatural, and who would be very liable in avoiding Scylla, to strike

upon Charybdis, or to speak without metaphor, to rush into scepticism.

Have you perceived anything like fatalism in my letters? I am

unconscious of it, though I fear there may sometimes be a little

inclination toward it. The woman you selected for your wife was so

highly gifted in mind, with powers so vast, and such quick and clear

perception, altogether so superior to the general run of females, you

have perhaps formed a too enlarged opinion of the capacities of our sex,

and having never witnessed their frailties, are not aware of the dangers

to which they are exposed, by acquirements above their strength.

“The systems of the ancients have been quite out of my reach, excepting

the Dialogues of Plato, which Mr. A. recommended to me last year, and

which I read attentively. I cannot say that I am entirely unacquainted

with their different theories, but that acquaintance has been too

superficial to make them well understood, and I have been too much

inclined to view them, as difficult of practice, and not tending much to

the real benefit of mankind. With the modern philosophers I have become

more intimate, if I may make use of such a word, speaking of works which

I have read, but which I could not understand or digest. Locke has

puzzled me, Berkley amused me, Reid astonished me, Hume disgusted me,

and Tucker either diverted me or set me to sleep. This is a very limited

sort of reading, and you will laugh at my catalogue of names which have

at best, I believe, but little title to the rank of philosophers, or at

least must come in at the fag end. I have dipped into others and thrown

them aside, but I have never seen anything that would satisfy my mind,

or that would compare with the chaste and exquisitely simple doctrines

of Christianity.

“I fear you will find this letter more extravagant than any you have

ever received from me, but I have made it a rule to follow where the

current of my ideas carried me, and to give them to you in a perfect

undress. My reading has been too general, and too diffuse to be very

beneficial. French authors have occupied my attention the largest

portion of my life, but their venom was destroyed, by the events which

were continually passing almost before my eyes, and which showed how

wicked was the practice resulting from such theories. You, my dear sir,

have ever possessed a nature too ardent, too full of benevolent feelings

to all your race, with a mind too noble, and a capacity too enlarged, to

sink into the cold and thankless state of stoicism. Your heart is too

full of all the generous and kindly affections for you ever to acquire

such a cold and selfish doctrine. No, my dear sir, it was, it is

impossible. Look at your past life, retrace all the eminent services you

have rendered to your country, and to mankind, and if you, by unforeseen

and uncontrollable events, have been prevented from doing all you

wished, all you desired, toward promoting their felicity, let their

unequalled prosperity (in producing which, you had so large a share)

sooth your latest hours, and cheer your heart with the conviction, that

to you, in a great measure, they owe it; and this sentiment alone will

be sufficient reward. I set out in life with the most elevated notions

of honor and principle; ere I had entered it fairly, my hopes were

blasted, and my ideas of mankind, that is, all the favorable ones

almost, were suddenly chilled, and I was very near forming the horrid

and erroneous opinion, that no such thing as virtue existed. This was a

dreadful doctrine at the age of little more than twenty, but it taught

me to reflect and not to ‘build my house in the sand.’ My life has been

a life of changes, and I had early accustomed myself to the idea of

retirement. The nature of our institutions, the various turns of policy

to which an elective government is ever liable, has long occupied my

thoughts, and I trust I may find strength to sustain any of the changes

which may be in store for me, with fortitude, dignity, and I trust

cheerfulness. To these changes, I can never attach the idea of disgrace.

Popular governments are peculiarly liable to factions, to cabals, to

intrigue, to the juggling tricks of party, and the people may often be

deceived for a time, by some fair speaking demagogue, but they will

never be deceived long; and though they may, in a moment of excitement,

sanction an injustice toward an old and faithful servant, they

appreciate his worth, and hand his name down with honor to posterity,

even though that ‘name may not be agreeable to the fashionables.’ It is

one which I take a pride in bearing, and one that I hope and pray my

children may never dishonor.

“What you say concerning the Floridas is, I believe, universally

allowed, and as to the effect upon the name, why, it is of little

importance, provided the substance is left, and the act undeniable.

There is the lance, let the lance speak—I can safely swear as an

individual I never set my heart on what the world calls a great reward.

I am too well assured that ‘uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,’

and the station is too full of thorns to render it very desirable. I

have no relish for being absolutely crucified for the sake of a short

pre-eminence. You have, I suppose, seen the correspondence between Gen.

Scott and old Hickory? How do you like the epistle of the former? What

do you think of De Witt Clinton’s reply to the charge insinuated against

him? We hear of nothing but complaints of the times, and our commercial

world are in great distress. In Baltimore (that city where the South

American privateers are owned and fitted out by native citizens in the

very face of the public, and committing depredations on the property of

their fellow-citizens) there are failures every day, and it is said the

mischief will extend to all parts of the Union. In Virginia, a man who

broke out of the jail in this city, has offered himself as a candidate

for Congress, telling the electors that he would take only six dollars a

day, as he thinks eight too much; because if he found his pay

insufficient, he would play, and by this means insure himself a living.

That he had often played with their late member, and with many of the

most distinguished members of Congress, who used to send for him to play

with them. Such things are—

“Adieu, my dear Sir.”

“During the eight years in which Mrs. Adams presided in the house of the

Secretary of State,” writes her son, Hon. Charles Francis Adams, in

1839, “no exclusions were made, in her invitations, merely on account of

any real or imagined political hostility; nor, though keenly alive to

the reputation of her husband, was any disposition manifested to do more

than to amuse and enliven society. In this, the success was admitted to

be complete, as all will remember who were then in the habit of

frequenting her dwelling. But in proportion as the great contest for the

Presidency, in which Mr. Adams was involved, approached, the violence of

partisan warfare began to manifest its usual bad effects, and Mrs. Adams

decided to adopt habits of greater seclusion. When at last the result

had placed her in the President’s mansion, her health began to fail her

so much, that though she continued to preside upon occasions of public

reception, she ceased to appear at any other times, and she began to

seek the retirement which since her return to private life she has

preferred. Mr. Adams has been, it is true, and still continues, a

representative in Congress, from the State of Massachusetts, and this

renders necessary an annual migration from that State to Washington and

back again, as well as a winter residence within the sound of the

gayeties of that place; but while her age and health dispense her from

the necessities of attending them, severe domestic afflictions have

contributed to remove the disposition. Thus the attractions of great

European capitals, and the dissipation consequent upon high official

station at home, though continued through that part of her life when

habits become most fixed, have done nothing to change the natural

elegance of her manners, nor the simplicity of her tastes. In the

society of a few friends and near relatives, and in the cultivation of

the religious affections without display, she draws all the consolation

that can in this world be afforded for her privations. To the world Mrs.

Adams presents a fine example of the possibility of retiring from the

circles of fashion, and the external fascinations of life, in time still

to retain a taste for the more quiet though less showy attractions of

the domestic fireside. A strong literary taste which has led her to read

much, and a capacity for composition in prose and verse, have been

resources for her leisure moments; not with a view to that exhibition

which renders such accomplishments too often fatal to the more delicate

shades of feminine character, but for her own gratification and that of

a few relations and friends. The late President Adams used to draw much

amusement, in his latest years at Quincy, from the accurate delineation

of Washington manners and character, which was regularly transmitted,

for a considerable period, in letters from her pen. And if as time

advances, she becomes gradually less able to devote her sense of sight

to reading and writing, her practice of the more homely virtues of

manual industry, so highly commended in the final chapter of the book of

Solomon, still amuses the declining days of her varied career.”

On the fourth of March, 1825, John Quincy Adams was inaugurated as

President of the United States, and took the executive chair, which had

been entered twenty-eight years before by his venerated father. The

scene at the inauguration was splendid and imposing. At an early hour of

the day, the avenues leading to the capitol presented an animated

spectacle. Crowds of citizens on foot, in carriages and on horseback,

were hastening to the great centre of attraction. Strains of martial

music and the movements of the various military corps heightened the

excitement.

At 12 o’clock, the military escort, consisting of general and staff

officers and several volunteer companies, received the President-elect

at his residence, together with President Monroe and several officers of

government. The procession, led by the cavalry, and accompanied by an

immense concourse of citizens, proceeded to the capitol, where it was

received with military honors by the U. S. Marine Corps, under Col.

Henderson.

Meanwhile the hall of the House of Representatives presented a brilliant

spectacle. The galleries and the lobbies were crowded with spectators.

The sofas between the columns, the bar, the promenade in the rear of the

Speaker’s chair, and the three outer rows of the members’ seats, were

occupied by a splendid array of beauty and fashion. On the left, the

Diplomatic Corps, in the costume of their respective courts, occupied

the place assigned them, immediately before the steps which led to the

chair. The officers of the army and navy were scattered in groups

throughout the hall. In front of the clerk’s table chairs were placed

for the Judges of the Supreme Court.

At twenty minutes past 12 o’clock, the marshals, in blue scarfs, made

their appearance in the hall, at the head of the august procession.

First came the officers of both Houses of Congress. Then appeared the

President-elect, followed by the venerable ex-President Monroe, with his

family. To these succeeded the Judges of the Supreme Court, in their

robes of office, the members of the Senate, preceded by the

Vice-President, with a number of the members of the House of

Representatives.

Mr. Adams, in a plain suit of black, made entirely of American

manufactures, ascended to the Speaker’s chair and took his seat. The

Chief-Justice was placed in front of the clerk’s table, having before

him another table on the floor of the hall, on the opposite side of

which sat the remaining judges, with their faces toward the chair. The

doors having been closed and silence proclaimed, Mr. Adams arose, and in

a distinct and firm tone of voice read his inaugural address.

The congratulations which then poured in from every side, occupied the

hands, and could not but reach the heart, of President Adams. The

meeting between him and his venerated predecessor had in it something

peculiarly affecting. General Jackson was among the earliest of those

who took the hand of the President; and their looks and deportment

toward each other were a rebuke to that littleness of party spirit which

can see no merit in a rival, and feel no joy in the honor of a

competitor. Shortly after 1 o’clock, the procession commenced leaving

the hall. The President was escorted back as he came. On his arrival at

his residence, he received the compliments and respects of a great

number of ladies and gentlemen, who called on him to tender their

congratulations. The proceedings of the day were closed by an inaugural

ball in the evening. Among the guests present were the President and

Vice-President, ex-President Monroe, a number of foreign ministers, with

many civil, military and naval officers.[11]

Footnote 11:

National Intelligencer, 1825.

Mrs. Adams gave up the comforts of her home, and took possession of the

White House soon after the inauguration. The spring and summer wore

quietly away, for even in the White House, gayety was confined to the

winter season, and save the visits of friends, nothing occurred to vary

the quiet of every-day life. Her children were a consolation to her in

her infirm condition, for her health failed her as soon as she moved

into the President’s house.

It was the happy fortune of Mrs. Adams to be the occupant of the White

House when Lafayette visited the United States, who at the invitation of

the President spent the last weeks of his stay at the Executive Mansion,

and from there, on the 7th of September, 1825, bade an affecting

farewell to the land of his adoption.

As the last sentence of this farewell address was pronounced, Lafayette

advanced and took President Adams in his arms, while tears poured down

his venerable cheeks. Retiring a few paces, he was overcome by his

feelings, and again returned and falling on the neck of Mr. Adams,

exclaimed in broken accents, “God bless you.” The sighs and tears of the

many assembled bore testimony to the affecting solemnity of the scene.

Having recovered his self-possession, the General stretched out his

hands, and was in a moment surrounded by the greetings of the whole

assembly, who pressed upon him, each eager to seize, perhaps for the

last time, that beloved hand which was opened so freely for our aid when

aid was so precious, and which grasped with firm and undeviating hold

the steel which so bravely helped to achieve our deliverance. The

expression which now beamed from the face of this exalted man was of the

finest and most touching kind. The hero was lost in the father and the

friend. Dignity melted into subdued affection, and the friend of

Washington seemed to linger with a mournful delight among the sons of

his adopted country.

A considerable period was then occupied in conversing with various

individuals, while refreshments were presented to the company. The

moment of departure at length arrived; and having once more pressed the

hand of Mr. Adams, he entered the barouche, accompanied by the

Secretaries of State, of the Treasury, and of the Navy, and passed from

the capital of the Union.

The whole scene—the peals of artillery, the sounds of numerous military

bands, the presence of the vast concourse of people, and the occasion

that assembled them, produced emotions not easily described, but which

every American heart can readily conceive.

In the following September, she accompanied her husband on a visit to

his aged father at Quincy, but being taken very ill at Philadelphia, the

President was compelled to proceed without her. He did not remain long,

and on the 14th of October set out again for Washington. It was the last

time Mr. Adams ever saw his father! “The aged patriarch had lived to see

his country emancipated from foreign thraldom, its independence

acknowledged, its union consummated, its prosperity and perpetuity

resting on an immovable foundation, and his son elevated to the highest

office in its gift. It was enough! His work accomplished—the book of his

eventful life written and sealed for immortality—he was ready to depart

and be at peace. The 4th of July, 1826, will long be memorable for one

of the most remarkable coincidences that have ever taken place in the

history of nations. It was the fiftieth anniversary, the jubilee of

American Independence! Preparations had been made throughout the Union

to celebrate the day with unusual pomp and display. John Adams and

Thomas Jefferson had both been invited to participate in the festivities

of the occasion, at their several places of abode. But a higher summons

awaited them: they were bidden to a ‘jubilee’ above, which shall have no

end! On that half-century Anniversary of American Independence, at

nearly the same hour of the day, the spirits of Adams and Jefferson took

their departure from earth! Amid the rejoicings of the people, the peals

of artillery, the strains of music, the exultations of a great nation in

the enjoyment of freedom, peace, and happiness, they were released from

the toils of life, and allowed to enter on their rest.”

These two patriarchs had been corresponding regularly, and their letters

had attracted the attention of Europe as well as America. Mr. Adams had

written the last letter, in which occurs the following expression: “Half

an hour ago, I received, and this moment have heard read, for the third

or fourth time, the best letter that was ever written by an

octogenarian, dated June 1st.”

The editor of the London _Morning Chronicle_ prefaces his notice of this

correspondence with the following remarks:

“What a contrast the following correspondence of the two rival

Presidents of the greatest republic of the world, reflecting an old age

dedicated to virtue, temperance, and philosophy, presents to the

heart-sickening details occasionally disclosed to us, of the miserable

beings who fill the thrones of the continent. There is not, perhaps, one

sovereign of the continent, who in any sense of the word can be said to

honor our nature, while many make us almost ashamed of it. The curtain

is seldom drawn aside without exhibiting to us beings worn out with

vicious indulgence, diseased in mind, if not in body, the creatures of

caprice and insensibility. On the other hand, since the foundation of

the American Republic, the chair has never been filled by a man for

whose life (to say the least) any American need once to blush. It must,

therefore, be some compensation to the Americans for the absence of pure

monarchy, that when they look upward, their eyes are not always met by

vice, and meanness, and often idiocy.”

The administration of Mr. Adams was remarkable for the peace and

prosperity of the country, and there was therefore no event in Mrs.

Adams’ social life of a stirring nature. Her husband was certainly the

most learned man who has yet occupied the Presidential chair. No one at

all acquainted with his life will deny this assertion. Profoundly versed

in the lore of the ancients, he was yet more thoroughly acquainted with

the history of modern governments, and was a deep thinker, as well as an

eloquent speaker. A Southern clergyman visited him during his

administration, and was astonished to find he was intimately acquainted

with all sects and creeds, and had read every book he could mention.

Finally he remembered one work of importance, and asked if he had read

it. Mr. Adams had not, whereupon the minister, delighted with his

success, told it everywhere and was afterward known as the man who had

read one more book than John Quincy Adams.

Mrs. Adams retired from the White House with heartfelt pleasure, and

sought the quiet her delicate health demanded.

The following interesting account of an interview with ex-President

Adams, by a Southern gentleman, in 1834, affords some conception of the

home of Mrs. Adams at Quincy.

“Yesterday, accompanied by my friend T., I paid a visit to the venerable

ex-President, at his residence in Quincy. A violent rain setting in as

soon as we arrived, gave us from five to nine o’clock to listen to the

learning of this man of books. His residence is a plain, very plain one;

the room into which we were ushered (the drawing-room, I suppose) was

furnished in true republican style. It is probably of ancient

construction, as I perceived two beams projecting from the low ceiling,

in the manner of the beams in a ship’s cabin. Prints commemorative of

political events, and the old family portraits hung about the room;

common straw matting covered the floor, and two candlesticks, bearing

sperm candles, ornamented the mantel-piece. The personal appearance of

the ex-President himself corresponds with the simplicity of his

furniture. He resembles rather a substantial, well-fed farmer, than one

who has wielded the destinies of this mighty confederation, and been

bred in the ceremony and etiquette of a European court. In fact, he

appears to possess none of that sternness of character which you would

suppose to belong to one a large part of whose life has been spent in

political warfare, or, at any rate, amidst scenes requiring a vast deal

of nerve and inflexibility. Mrs. Adams is described in a word—a lady.

She has all the warmth of heart and ease of manner that mark the

character of the Southern ladies, and from which it would be no easy

matter to distinguish her.

“The ex-President was the chief talker. He spoke with infinite ease,

drawing upon his vast resources with the certainty of one who has his

lecture before him ready written. The whole of his conversation, which

steadily he maintained for nearly four hours, was a continued stream of

light. Well contented was I to be a listener. His subjects were the

architecture of the middle ages; the stained glass of that period;

sculpture, embracing monuments particularly. On this subject, his

opinion of Mrs. Nightingale’s monument in Westminster Abbey differs from

all others that I have seen or heard. He places it above every other in

the Abbey, and observed in relation to it, that the spectator ‘saw

nothing else.’ Milton, Shakespeare, Shenstone, Pope, Byron, and Southey

were in turn remarked upon. He gave Pope a wonderfully high character,

and remarked that one of his chief beauties was the skill exhibited in

ranging the cesural pause, quoting from various parts of his author to

illustrate his remarks more fully. He said very little on the politics

of the country. He spoke at considerable length of Sheridan and Burke,

both of whom he had heard, and could describe with the most graphic

effect. He also spoke of Junius; and it is remarkable that he should

place him so far above the best of his cotemporaries. He spoke of him as

a bad man; but maintained, as a writer, that he had never been equalled.

The conversation never flagged for a moment; and on the whole I shall

remember my visit to Quincy as amongst the most instructive and pleasant

I ever passed.”

Mrs. Adams enjoyed the pleasures of her home but one year, when Mr.

Adams was elected a member of Congress, and from that time forward to

the hour of his death he represented the Plymouth district with fidelity

and ever increasing honor and power. Mr. Adams took his seat in the

House of Representatives in December, 1831, and he lived in his own

house situated on I street. For fifteen years he was a member of

Congress, residing continually at Washington, although making frequent

visits to his old home.

More than fourscore years had left their impress upon Mr. Adams’ brow,

and he was still in the midst of his usefulness. In November, 1846, he

had a stroke of paralysis, from which he never recovered. On the morning

of that day, while sojourning at the residence of his son, in Boston,

preparing to depart for Washington, he was walking out with a friend to

visit a new medical college, and was attacked by the way. After several

weeks, he improved sufficiently to return to his duties at the capital,

but never afterward entirely recovered. On Monday, the 21st of February,

1848, at half-past one o’clock, whilst in his seat in the House, he was

struck a second time with the same disease. He was removed to the

Speaker’s apartment, borne on a sofa by several members, and plasters

applied, which seemed to relieve him. Mrs. Adams was sent for, and on

his recovering consciousness, was gladdened by her presence in answer to

his inquiry for her. She was in extreme illness and suffering acute

pain, but remained beside him, sustained by her niece and nephew. Mr.

Adams lay in the Speaker’s room in a state of apparent unconsciousness

through the 22d and 23d—Congress, in the mean time, assembling in

respectful silence, and immediately adjourning from day to day. At seven

o’clock on the evening of the 23d he died. President Polk issued a

Proclamation announcing his death, and orders were issued from all the

Departments directing that suitable honors should be paid the

illustrious dead. The funeral took place in the Capitol, at twelve

o’clock, Saturday, 26th of February, after which the body was conveyed

to the Congressional burying-ground, to remain until the completion of

the preparations for the removal to Quincy.

The following letter of thanks from Mrs. Adams, addressed to the

Speaker, was laid before the House of Representatives:

“WASHINGTON, _February 29th, 1848_.

“SIR:—The resolutions in honor of my dear deceased husband, passed by

the illustrious assembly over which you preside, and of which he at the

moment of his death was a member, have been duly communicated to me.

“Penetrated with grief at this distressing event of my life, mourning

the loss of one who has been at once my example and my support through

the trials of half a century, permit me nevertheless to express through

you my deepest gratitude for the signal manner in which the public

regard has been voluntarily manifested by your honorable body, and the

consolation derived to me and mine from the reflection that the

unwearied efforts of an old public servant have not even in this world

proved without their reward in the generous appreciation of them by his

country.

“With great respect, I remain, Sir, your obedient servant,

“LOUISA CATHERINE ADAMS.”

On the following week, the remains of the deceased ex-President were

conveyed to Quincy, accompanied by a committee of one from each State

and Territory in the Union.

After this sad event in Mrs. Adams’ life, she lived uninterruptedly at

her home in Quincy, enjoying the society of her children and relations.

Mr. Charles Francis Adams thus closes a letter regarding his mother:

“I should be very glad to be of service to you if I were possessed of

the material which you desire in connection with the life of my mother.

But I fear they are not to be found among the papers left by her. She

wrote much and read a great deal, both of French and English literature,

and translated from the former for the amusement of her friends. She

also wrote verses frequently in the same way. But all these

accomplishments of hers, including a nice taste in music and a

well-cultivated voice, are matters of little moment in a publication,

however much they may contribute to the refinement of the social circle

at home. Although she lived to quite an advanced age, her health was

always delicate and variable, so as to interrupt the even tenor of her

life and disincline her to the efforts required for general society,

especially during her twelve years spent at different courts in Europe.”

Mrs. Adams died the 14th of May, 1852, and was buried by the side of her

husband, in the family burying-ground at Quincy, Massachusetts.

VII.

RACHEL JACKSON.

The cruel misrepresentations of political opponents had crushed the

heart of Rachel Jackson, and ended her days before her husband took

possession of the Home of the Presidents. She was denied the

gratification of accompanying him to Washington, and of gracing the

White House, but she was even in death the President’s wife, and as such

is ranked. In his heart she lived there, the object of the most

deathless and exalted affection, the spiritual comforter and companion

of his lonely hours. The friends and visitors of the new President saw

her not, nor was she mentioned by the throng; but to him she was ever

present in the form of memory and eternal, undying love.

The day of party strife and bitterness toward General Jackson has passed

away forever, and the nobility and refined sensibility of his nature are

at last appreciated. The slanders and falsehoods which embittered his

earthly life, have been eclipsed by the sunlight of truth, and over the

lapse of years comes ringing the prophetic assertion of the immutability

of right. He is avenged. Once it was the fashion to revile him, and

multitudes in this country who had no independent judgments of their

own, took up the gossip of the day and pursued their congenial calling,

even after death had taken him from their sight forever.

[Illustration:

MRS. ANDREW JACKSON.

]

Down from the canvas beams his speaking eye upon us, and its meaning

seems to say, justice to her is honor to me. With feelings an American

only can appreciate, the task is undertaken, and whatever its defects

may be, its merit is its truthfulness.

In 1779 Colonel John Donelson, a brave and wealthy old Virginia

surveyor, started to the banks of the Cumberland with a party of

emigrants. He had been preceded by Captain James Robertson and his

companions, nine sturdy pioneers, who had engaged to build huts, plant

corn, and make as comfortable a home as possible for the band that was

to follow. This consisted of families, and among them the families of

several of those adventurous pioneers.

The country was full of Indians, the forests deep, wild and unexplored,

and the perils very great. In order to escape the toil and danger of

travelling through the wilderness, Colonel Donelson accomplished the

journey by water. It was a distance of more than two thousand miles, and

never before had any man been bold enough to project such a voyage. They

sailed down the Holston river to the Tennessee, down the Tennessee to

its junction with the Ohio, up the Ohio till they reached the

Cumberland, and up this stream to the French Salt Springs, on the spot

where now stands the city of Nashville. Colonel Donelson kept an account

of this remarkable and perilous voyage, entitled, “Journal of a voyage,

intended by God’s permission, in the good boat Adventure, from Fort

Patrick Henry on Holston river, to the French Salt Springs on Cumberland

river, kept by John Donelson,” and the thrilling incidents and

remarkable personal adventures are deeply interesting.

They were four months on the journey, the sufferings and privations of

which can scarcely be appreciated by the more fortunate who now travel

the same way amid quiet woods, green fields, and peaceful country homes.

To those adventurers, the dangerous points of the rivers were unknown,

and many were the accidents that befell them. They started in the depths

of winter, and were obliged to encounter excessive cold and frosts. But

worse than all, the Indians were ever on the watch to entrap them. The

journal says, “we still perceived them, marching down the river in

considerable bodies, keeping pace with us.” The wildest, most romantic,

and lonely spot on this continent is the “Whirl,” in the Tennessee

river, where the river is compressed within less than half its usual

width by the Cumberland mountain which juts in on both sides. Its beauty

is only equalled by its danger. In passing through this place, a large

canoe, containing all the property of one of the emigrants, was

overturned and the little cargo was lost. The family had gone into a

larger boat for safety. “The company,” says Colonel Donelson, “pitying

their distress, concluded to halt and assist in recovering the property.

We had landed on the northern shore, at a level spot, and were going up

to the place, when the Indians, to our astonishment, appeared

immediately over us on the opposite cliffs, and commenced firing down

upon us, which occasioned a precipitate retreat to the boats. We

immediately moved off.”

One of this intrepid little band of emigrants, sharing in its hardships

and dangers, was Rachel Donelson, the daughter of Col. John Donelson.

She was then a bright-eyed, black-haired, sprightly, pretty child of

about twelve years. On the 24th of April, 1780, they reached the little

settlement of log-cabins that Captain Robertson and his band had made

ready for them. But perils and privations were not past. The Indians

were wily and untiring in laying their crafty ambushes, and many were

the victims that fell within their deadly grasp, and were despatched by

their murderous weapons. With all these troubles, however, the

settlement grew in numbers and in strength; such was the intrepidity and

the persevering energy which inspired these heroic men and women. As

Colonel Donelson was one of the most influential, he became one of the

wealthiest of the settlers. He had owned extensive iron works in

Pittsylvania County, Virginia, which he had sold when he started to the

West. Prior and subsequent to the revolution, he was a member of the

House of Burgesses, and had repeatedly represented the counties of

Campbell and Pittsylvania. Thomas Jefferson and Patrick Henry were his

personal friends; he held commissions under each of them to execute

important trusts, such as the survey of State lines, the negotiating of

treaties with Indians, or establishing the authority of the State over

distant territory. His confidence in General Washington was implicit,

and the earnestness with which he spoke his sentiments had a most happy

and conservative influence over the people of the West. The little

colony soon began to suffer from the insufficient supply of corn and of

powder and lead, and as the family of Colonel Donelson numbered many

children and servants, he concluded to remove with them to Kentucky. He

had in that State, moreover, land claims which he could more easily

attend to and secure by being there. During his residence there, his

daughter Rachel was married to Lewis Robards, a man of good family. She

had grown up amid the trials and dangers of a frontier life, but the

examples that she daily saw of noble fortitude, of calm bravery, and of

heroic labor were worth many a tamer and weaker lesson of more civilized

life. She grew up accomplished in the higher art of making home

attractive and relatives happy. She was at the same time lively and

gentle, gifted with patience and prudence, and winning in her simple and

unaffected manners.

Soon after his daughter’s marriage, Colonel Donelson returned to

Tennessee with his family. In the fall of 1785, while surveying in the

woods far from home, this brave and gallant gentleman was pierced by

bullets from an unseen foe, and died the same night. Judge John Overton,

then a young lawyer, in the fall of 1787, went to Mercer County,

Kentucky, and became a boarder in the family of Mrs. Robards, where

Lewis Robards and his wife were living. Judge Overton was not long in

discovering that they lived very unhappily, because Captain Robards was

jealous of a gentleman named Short. His disposition was extremely

unfortunate, and kept the whole family in uneasiness and distress. This

unpleasant state of affairs continued to increase until Captain Robards

wrote to his mother-in-law, the widowed Mrs. Donelson, requesting that

she would take her daughter home, as he did not intend to live with her

any longer. Some time in the latter part of 1788, Samuel Donelson came

and started away with his sister. Judge Overton says, “my clear and

distinct recollection is, that it was said to be a final separation, at

the instance of Captain Robards; for I well recollect the distress of

old Mrs. Robards on account of her daughter-in-law Rachel going away,

and on account of the separation that was about to take place, together

with the circumstance of the old lady’s embracing her affectionately.

The old lady always blamed her son Lewis, and took the part of her

daughter-in-law.”

Judge Overton further remarks that he never heard any of the family

censure young Mrs. Robards on account of the unhappy difference between

her husband and herself; but that he frequently heard them express the

most favorable sentiments regarding her.

As stated in his narrative, published in 1827, Judge Overton, deciding

to fix his residence in Tennessee, left old Mrs. Robards, with the

promise that he would use his best endeavors to effect a reconciliation

between her son Lewis and his wife, particularly as her son seemed

unhappy, and regretful of what had occurred. The Judge took occasion to

speak with him upon the subject, and he said he was convinced that his

suspicions were unfounded, and that he wished to live with his wife.

Upon arriving at his destination in Tennessee, by a remarkable and

romantic coincidence, the Judge again became a boarder in the same house

with Mrs. Lewis Robards. Mrs. Donelson, her mother, was not only willing

to accommodate him, but was glad to add to the number of her protectors

against the Indians. Another lawyer, Andrew Jackson, became a boarder

with Mrs. Donelson at the same time, being introduced by Judge Overton.

“Soon after my arrival,” continues the Judge in his narrative, “I had

frequent conversations with Mrs. Lewis Robards, on the subject of living

happily with her husband. She, with much sensibility, assured me that no

effort to do so should be wanting on her part; and I communicated the

result to Captain Robards and his mother, from both of whom I received

congratulations and thanks.

“Captain Robards had previously purchased a preemption in this country

on the south side of the Cumberland river, in Davidson county, about

five miles from where Mrs. Donelson then lived. In the arrangement for a

reunion between Captain Robards and his wife, I understood it was agreed

that Captain Robards was to live in this country instead of Kentucky;

and that until it was safe to go to his own land, he and his wife were

to live at Mrs. Donelson’s.” They became reunited in the year 1789.

“Not many months elapsed before Robards became jealous of Jackson,

which, I felt confident, was without the least ground. Some of his

irritating conversations on this subject with his wife, I heard amidst

the tears of herself and her mother, who were greatly distressed. I

urged to Robards the unmanliness of his conduct, after the pains I had

taken to produce harmony as a mutual friend of both families, and my

honest conviction that his suspicions were groundless. These

remonstrances seemed not to have the desired effect. As much commotion

and unhappiness prevailed in the family as in that of Mrs. Robards, in

Kentucky. At length I communicated to Jackson the unpleasant situation

of living in a family where there was so much disturbance, and concluded

by telling him that we would endeavor to get some other place. To this

he readily assented.

“Being conscious of his innocence, Jackson said he would talk to

Robards. What passed between them I do not know. Mrs. Donelson related

that Robards became violently angry and abusive, and said that he was

determined not to live with Mrs. Robards. Jackson retired from the

family and went to live at Mansker’s Station. Captain Robards remained

several months with his wife, and then went to Kentucky. Soon after this

affair, Mrs. Robards went to live at Colonel Hays’, who married her

sister.

“Some time in the fall of 1790, there was a report afloat that Captain

Robards intended to come down and take his wife to Kentucky. This

created great uneasiness both with Mrs. Donelson and her daughter, the

latter of whom was much distressed, being convinced after two fair

trials, as she said, that it would be impossible to live with Captain

Robards; and of this opinion was I, with all those I conversed with, who

were acquainted with the circumstances. During the winter of 1791, Mrs.

Donelson told me of her daughter’s intention to go down the river to

Natchez, to some of their friends, in order to keep out of the way of

Captain Robards, as she said he had threatened to haunt her. Knowing, as

I did, Captain Robards’ unhappy disposition, and his temper growing out

of it, I thought she was right to keep out of the way, though I do not

believe that I so expressed myself to the old lady or to any other

person.

“The whole affair gave Jackson great uneasiness. In his singularly

delicate sense of honor, and in what I thought his chivalrous

conceptions of the female sex, it occurred to me that he was

distinguishable from every other person with whom I was acquainted.

About the time of Mrs. Donelson’s communication to me respecting her

daughter’s intention of going to Natchez, I perceived in Jackson

symptoms of more than usual concern. Wishing to ascertain the cause, he

frankly told me that he was the most unhappy of men, in having

innocently and unintentionally been the cause of the loss of peace and

happiness of Mrs. Robards, whom he believed to be a fine woman. It was

not long after this before he communicated to me his intention of going

to Natchez with Colonel Stark, with whom Mrs. Robards was to descend the

river, saying that she had no friend or relation that would go with her,

or assist in preventing Stark and his family and Mrs. Robards from being

massacred by the Indians, then in a state of war and exceedingly

troublesome. Accordingly, Jackson, in company with Mrs. Robards and

Colonel Stark, a venerable and highly esteemed old man and friend of

Mrs. Robards, went down the river from Nashville to Natchez, in the

winter or early spring of 1791. It was not, however, without the urgent

entreaties of Colonel Stark, who wanted protection from the Indians,

that Jackson consented to accompany them.

“Previously to Jackson’s starting, he committed all his law business to

me, at the same time assuring me that as soon as he should see Col.

Stark and his family and Mrs. Robards situated with their friends, he

would return and resume his practice. He descended the river, returned

from Natchez to Nashville, and was at the Superior Court, in the latter

place, in May, 1791, attending to his business as a lawyer and

solicitor-general for the government. Shortly after this time, we were

informed that a divorce had been granted by the Legislature of Virginia.

“The divorce was understood by the people of this country to have been

granted in the winter of 1790–1791. I was in Kentucky in the summer of

1791, remained at old Mrs. Robards’, my former place of residence, a

part of the time, and never understood otherwise than that Captain

Robards’ divorce was final, until the latter part of the year 1793. In

the summer of 1791, General Jackson went to Natchez, and, I understood,

married Mrs. Robards, then believed to be freed from Captain Robards, by

the divorce in the winter of 1790–1791. They returned to Nashville,

settled in the neighborhood of the city, where they have lived ever

since, esteemed and beloved by all classes.

“About the month of December, 1793, after General Jackson and myself had

started to Jonesborough, in East Tennessee, where we practised law, I

learned for the first time that Captain Robards had applied to Mercer

Court, in Kentucky, for a divorce, which had then recently been granted;

and that the Legislature had not absolutely granted a divorce, but left

it for the Court to do. I need not express my surprise, on learning that

the act of the Virginia Legislature had not divorced Captain Robards. I

informed General Jackson of this, who was equally surprised; and during

our conversation, I suggested the propriety of his procuring a license

on his return home, and having the marriage ceremony again performed, so

as to prevent all future cavilling on the subject.

“To this suggestion, he replied that he had long since been married, on

the belief that a divorce had been obtained, which was the understanding

of every person in the country; nor was it without difficulty he could

be induced to believe otherwise.

[Illustration:

THE FIRST RESIDENCE OF ANDREW JACKSON.

]

“On our return home from Jonesborough, in January, 1794, to Nashville, a

license was obtained, and the marriage ceremony again performed.

“The slowness and inaccuracy with which information was obtained in

Tennessee at that time, will not be surprising when we consider its

insulated and dangerous situation, surrounded on every side by the

wilderness, and by hostile Indians, and that there was no mail

established until about 1797.”

Subsequent events proved this marriage to be one of the very happiest

that was ever formed. A romantic person would say that it was made in

Heaven, and certainly it had the requisites of a heavenly union. Nothing

could exceed the admiration, and love, and even deference of General

Jackson for his wife. Her wish to him was law. It was a blessed ordering

of Providence that this kind, good heart should find at last, after so

many troubles, a tender and true friend and protector, understanding her

perfectly, and loving her entirely.

Mrs. Jackson was a noble woman, and abundantly blessed with superior

sense. She was a good manager, a kind mistress, always directing the

servants, and taking care of the estate in her husband’s frequent

absences, and withal a generous and hospitable neighbor.

She had a great many nieces and nephews, some of whom were nearly all

the time staying with her. She was very lively in her manners, well

knowing how to tell stories, and amuse the young people of the

neighborhood, who were much attached to her, all calling her

affectionately Aunt Rachel, as her nieces and nephews did.

About the year 1804, General Jackson fixed his residence upon a superb

estate of a thousand acres, twelve miles from Nashville, which he named

the Hermitage. They lived at first in an ordinary frame building,

sufficiently comfortable, but rather small. No lack of space in the

house, however, could contract the liberal and hospitable spirit of the

master and mistress of the Hermitage. When the Marquis de Lafayette

visited Nashville on his return to America, there was an entertainment

given in his honor at the Hermitage, to which many ladies and gentlemen

were invited. At this banquet, and during his stay in Nashville, General

Lafayette was particularly respectful and attentive to Mrs. Jackson; and

after his return to France, he never failed, in writing to General

Jackson, to send her his compliments.

But the General was the “prince of hospitality,” as one of his neighbors

said, “not because he entertained a great many people, but because the

poor belated pedlar was as welcome as the President of the United

States, and made so much at his ease that he felt as though he had got

home.”

One who often visited General Jackson’s house wrote that “it was the

resort of friends and acquaintances, and of all strangers visiting the

State; and the more agreeable to all from the perfect conformity of Mrs.

Jackson’s character to his own. She had the General’s own warm heart,

frank manners, and hospitable temper, and no two persons could have been

better suited to each other, lived more happily together, or made a

house more attractive to visitors. She was always doing kind things in

the kindest manner. No bashful youth or plain old man, whose modesty set

them down at the lower end of the table, could escape her cordial

attention, any more than the titled gentlemen at her right and left.”

She had no children of her own, and it was a source of regret to both;

but a fortunate circumstance threw a little child across her pathway,

and she gladly took the babe to her home and heart. Her brother had twin

boys born to him, and wishing to help her sister in a care which was so

great, took one of them to the Hermitage when it was but a few days old.

The General soon became extremely attached to the little guest, and

adopted him, giving him his own name, and treating him from that time

with unremitting kindness and affection, as if he were indeed his only

son. A traveller, who arrived at the Hermitage one wet, chilly evening

in February, says: “I came upon General Jackson in the twilight, sitting

alone before the fire, a lamb and a child between his knees. Seeing me,

he called a servant to remove the two innocents to another room, and

said that the child had cried because the lamb was out in the cold, and

begged him to bring it in, which he had done to please the child—his

adopted son, then not two years old.” This son, Andrew Jackson, jr., was

the sole heir of the General’s large estate. His widow resides yet at

the Hermitage, at the request of the State of Tennessee, which purchased

the homestead at the close of the war.

A few days after the battle of New Orleans, Mrs. Jackson arrived in that

city with a party of Tennesseeans, bringing with her the little Andrew,

then about seven years old. She participated in the attentions that were

showered upon the General, who showed her, himself, the most marked

respect and deference. The ladies of New Orleans presented her with a

valuable and beautiful set of topaz jewelry. In her portrait, at the

Hermitage, Mrs. Jackson wears the dress which she appeared in at the

grand ball given in New Orleans, in honor of the General. It is white

satin, ornamented with lace, and jewelry of pearls. This portrait was

painted by Earl, an artist who married a niece of Mrs. Jackson’s and

resided many years in General Jackson’s family.

In 1816 Mrs. Jackson joined the church, while attending the ministry of

the Rev. Gideon Blackburn, a Presbyterian divine, whom she ever after

regarded with the deepest veneration. To gratify her, General Jackson

built a little church on the estate, a quarter of a mile from the house.

It was plain and simple, and small, but very dear to Mrs. Jackson, who

spent in it many happy hours. It was a blessing to the neighbors, who

found it convenient and pleasant to send their children to

Sunday-school, and to attend church themselves when it was impossible to

go farther.

A new house was built during the summer of 1819. It was erected

expressly for Mrs. Jackson, and everything regarding it was done exactly

in accordance with her wishes. Major Lewis, who visited the site,

recommended a more elevated position to the General. “No, Major,” said

he, “Mrs. Jackson chose this spot, and she shall have her wish. I am

going to build this house for her; I don’t expect to live in it myself.”

He was at the time very feeble and exhausted from the severe illness

succeeding his return from the Seminole war, and was, as he supposed,

not long for this world.

The house is situated in a level place, rather lower than the avenue

which leads to it, and from the gate only glimpses of it can be

obtained. The surrounding country is exceedingly beautiful. The long

stately avenue of cedars ends in an oval-shaped lawn in which stands the

mansion. Both in front and in the rear of the house there are grand

double piazzas, with stone floors supported by large fluted columns,

round which cling and bloom beautiful rose vines. Under the shade of

these drooping tendrils, General Jackson and his cherished wife were

wont to saunter, occasionally stopping to more distinctly hear the rich

notes of the southern songsters, or to catch the mournful cry of the

ringdove in the distant cotton-field.

The walls of the hall are covered with scenes from Telemachus, which was

formerly so fashionable for papering. The fairy beauty of Calypso’s

enchanted island, with its sparkling fountains, its flowery groves, its

elegant pillared palaces, its dancing nymphs, its altars of incense and

votive wreaths, its graceful groups of statues on the sea-shore, and,

above all, its lovely queen and the noble youth and his wise Mentor,

lend an air of interest and beauty to this cool hall which is

delightful. There is hanging here a handsome portrait of Columbus. The

furniture is old-fashioned and dignified, and there are several busts of

distinguished men. That of General Jackson was taken by Mr. Persico,

made in Italy and presented to the General.

The parlors are large, pleasant rooms, in which there are many

curiosities, and various odd and exquisite pieces of furniture that were

presented at different times to General Jackson. The house is spacious

and handsome. When first built, it was the most elegant one in all the

country around. It was a gift of love from the General to his beloved

wife, when he did not expect to survive her; and it was arranged to suit

her slightest wish, that nothing might be wanting to her satisfaction,

which it was possible in his power to provide. The extensive and

carefully-ordered garden was tended and overlooked by her, and contains

a great many sweet shrubs and evergreens and beautiful flowers, a large

number of which she planted herself.

[Illustration:

THE HERMITAGE—THE HOME OF ANDREW JACKSON.

]

In 1821 General Jackson was appointed Governor of Florida, and left the

Hermitage the 18th of April, accompanied by Mrs. Jackson and the “two

Andrews,” the adopted son and nephew—Andrew Jackson Donelson.[12] The

following September she wrote to a friend at Nashville: “The General, I

think, is the most anxious man to get home I ever saw. He calls it a

wild-goose chase, his coming here. He tells me to say to you and Captain

Kingsley, that in the multiplicity of business, if he had or could have

seen any advantages for your better prospects, he would have written

Captain Kingsley long since. You are in the best country in America. O,

how has this place been overrated. We have had a great many deaths;

still I know it is a healthy climate. Amongst many disadvantages, it has

few advantages. I pity Mr. J., he will have so much fatigue. Not one

minister of the gospel has come to this place yet; no, not one; but we

have a prayer-meeting every Sabbath. The house is crowded so that there

is not room for them. Sincere prayers are constantly sent up to the

Hearer of prayer for a faithful minister. Oh, what a reviving,

refreshing scene it would be to the Christians, though few in number.

The non-professors desire it. Blessed be God, he has a few even here

that are bold in declaring their faith in Christ. You named, my dear

friend, my going to the theatre. I went once, and then with much

reluctance. I felt so little interest in it, however, I shall not take

up much time in apologizing. My situation is a peculiar one at this

time. I trust in the Lord my dear child, Andrew, reached home in safety.

I think you all must feel a great deal for me, knowing how my very heart

recoiled at the idea of what I had to encounter. Many have been

disappointed. I have not. I saw it as plain as I now do when it is

passing. O Lord, forgive, if thy will, all those my enemies that had an

agency in the matter. Many wander about like lost sheep; all have been

disappointed in offices. Crage has a constable’s place of no value. The

President made all the appointments and sent them from the City of

Washington.”

Footnote 12:

After General Jackson landed at Blakely, near Mobile, he proceeded up

the river about forty miles, to a military post under the command of

Colonel Brook, and called “Montpelier.” Here he was detained some

days, during which time he learned that the Indian Chief

“Weatherford,” who commanded at the destruction and massacre of Fort

Mimms, was living but a few miles off. General Jackson remembered the

brave conduct of the Chief at the battle of “Horse Shoe,” where losing

the most of his warriors, he surrendered alone, remarking, that “he

had fought as long as he had men, and would fight longer if he

could;”[13] and at his suggestion Colonel Brook invited the Chief to

dinner the following day. The next day his appearance attracted much

attention at the fort, and when dinner was announced, General Jackson

escorted him to the presence of the ladies, introducing him to Mrs.

Jackson as the Chief of the Creek Indians and the bravest of his

tribe. She smilingly welcomed him and said, “she was pleased to meet

him at the festive board, and hoped that the strife of war was ended

forever.” “I looked up,” he said, “and found all eyes upon me, but I

could not speak a word. I found something choked me, and I wished I

was dead or at home.” Colonel Brook came to his rescue by replying to

Mrs. Jackson, and the dinner passed off pleasantly, but the Chief

related the occurrence a few years later, and said, “he was never

caught in such quarters again.”

Footnote 13:

Weatherford’s words were, “I am in your power. Do with me what you

please. I have done the white people all the harm I could. I fought

them, and fought them bravely. There was a time when I had a choice; I

have none now. Even hope is dead. Once I could animate my warriors;

but I cannot animate the dead. They can no longer hear my voice; their

bones are at Tallushatches, Talladega, Emucfaw and To-ho-pé-ka.”

General Jackson, in a letter to Captain John Donelson, Sr., speaks thus

of his wife:

“I hope we will be able to leave here by the 1st of October for home.

Mrs. Jackson’s health is not good, and I am determined to travel with

her as early as my business and her health will permit, even if I should

be compelled to come back to settle my business and turn over the

government to my successor. I am determined to resign my office the

moment Congress meets, and live near you the balance of my life. * * *

Before this reaches you, Colonel Butler and our little son will be with

you, I hope. I trust you will extend your care over him until we are

where he has gone. You may be sure your sister will not remain long

behind. We all enjoy tolerable health at present, but I am wearied with

business and this hot weather.”

Mrs. Jackson sighed for her quiet home and her little church during her

stay in Florida. Pensacola was so different, and the people so entirely

divided in all their tastes and pursuits from the devout Christian

matron, that she could not be satisfied. “Three Sabbaths,” she says, “I

spent in this house before the country was in possession under American

government. The Sabbath profanely kept, a great deal of noise and

swearing in the streets; shops kept open, trade going on I think more

than on any other day. They were so boisterous on that day I sent Major

Stanton to say to them that the approaching Sunday would be differently

kept. And must I say, the worst people here are the outcast Americans

and negroes! Yesterday I had the happiness of witnessing the truth of

what I had said. Great order was observed; the doors kept shut; the

gambling houses demolished; fiddling and dancing not heard any more on

the Lord’s day; cursing not to be heard.

“Pensacola is a perfect plain: the land nearly as white as flour, yet

productive of fine peaches, oranges in abundance, grapes, figs,

pomegranates, etc. Fine flowers grow spontaneously, for they have

neglected the gardens, expecting a change of government. The town is

immediately on the bay—the most beautiful water prospect I ever saw; and

from 10 o’clock in the morning until 10 at night we have the finest

sea-breeze. There is something in it so exhilarating, so pure, so

wholesome, it enlivens the whole system. All the houses look in ruins,

old as time. Many squares of the town appear grown over with the

thickest shrubs, weeping-willows, and the Pride of China: all look

neglected. The inhabitants all speak Spanish and French. Some speak four

or five languages. Such a mixed multitude you nor any of us ever had an

idea of. There are fewer white people far than any other, mixed with all

nations under the canopy of heaven, almost in nature’s darkness.”

On the 3d of November, General and Mrs. Jackson arrived at the

Hermitage, delighted to be again at that home within whose doors the

angels, Peace and Happiness, awaited their return, and sat with folded

wings.

General Jackson set out for Washington, accompanied by his wife, in

1824, going all the way in their own coach and four, and being

twenty-eight days on the journey. In a letter to a friend in Nashville

she says: “We are boarding in the same house with the nation’s guest,

General Lafayette. When we first came to this house, General Jackson

said he would go and pay the Marquis the first visit. Both having the

same desire, and at the same time, they met on the entry of the stairs.

It was truly interesting. At Charleston, General Jackson saw him on the

field of battle; the one a boy of twelve, the Marquis, twenty-three.”

A great many persons paid their respects to Mrs. Jackson. She says,

“there are not less than from fifty to a hundred persons calling in one

day.” While wondering at “the extravagance of the people in dressing and

running to parties,” she speaks with enthusiasm of the churches and the

able ministers.

Soon after their return home, Mrs. Jackson’s health began to decline,

and in the succeeding years of General Jackson’s campaign for the

Presidency, it continued delicate. She went with the General to New

Orleans, in the beginning of the year 1828, and witnessed his splendid

reception there. “She was waited on by Mrs. Marigny and other ladies,

the moment she landed from the Pocahontas, and conducted to Mr.

Marigny’s house, where refreshments had been prepared, and where she

received the salutations of a large and brilliant circle. The

festivities continued four days, at the end of which, the General and

Mrs. Jackson and their friends re-embarked on board the Pocahontas and

returned homeward.”

Mrs. Jackson’s health continued to fail, and no excursions or remedies

were found availing. She had suffered from an affection of the heart; a

disease which, increased and heightened by every undue excitement, was,

in her case, exposed to the most alarming extremes and continually

liable to aggravation. The painful paragraphs in regard to her character

with which the papers of the country abounded, wounded and grieved her

sorely. The circumstances of her marriage, so easily misconstrued and so

lamentably misunderstood by many whom distance and meagre information

had kept in ignorance, were used by the political enemies of General

Jackson as lawful weapons wherewith they might assail his fair fame and

obstruct his rapid progress to the highest place in the land. Considered

in all its bearings, there is not in the whole world a position more

honorable, more important, or more responsible, than that of the

President of the United States. Well were it needful to choose with

circumspection the Chief Magistrate of a country so vast, of a people so

intelligent and brave, and possessing the elements of such greatness and

glory; who holds in his grasp such a multitude of destinies; and who is

able, by his decisions, to continue the sunshine of prosperity, or to

bring the bitter blasts of adversity and discord. Hence the ardor and

even the desperation of the struggles for victory in each Presidential

campaign. The same enthusiasm which actuated the friends of General

Jackson, actuated also his enemies; and nothing could exceed the

earnestness and rancor with which they attacked him. Not content with

reviling him, they must needs drag before the public the long-forgotten

circumstances of his marriage, and wrest them to suit their unworthy

purposes. The kind heart of Mrs. Jackson, though wrung with

mortification and grief, prompted no utterance of impatience. She said

very little, but was often found in tears. Meanwhile, her health

continued to decline. It was too hard to bear that he to whom she had

devoted the affections and energies of her long life, should be taunted,

for her sake; that he should, for her sake, be considered unworthy of

the trust of that nation for whose defence and honor he had undergone

unnumbered fatigues and conflicts and perils. This silent suffering told

upon her spirits, but anxiety to know the event sustained her.

When the news arrived of General Jackson’s election to the Presidency,

it was received with rejoicings and hilarity in Nashville as everywhere

else, but with calmness by him and her who were so highly honored. Her

gratification must have been too deep and heartfelt to be expressed with

noise and mirth. Despite the calumnies which their enemies had heaped

upon her and the General, the nation had bestowed upon him its highest

gift; and had confided, for a time, the keeping of its honor and

well-being into his hands. The sorrows through which she had passed,

those clouds that had hung over her thorny way, had been dispersed by

the favoring wind of truth, and the bright rays of peace shone upon her

heart. But she was not dazzled by the new prospects opening before her.

The splendors and gayeties of a life in the White House could offer her

no attractions. Her domestic and simple tastes found more pleasure in

her own home and family circle at the beloved Hermitage. “For Mr.

Jackson’s sake,” said she, “I am glad; for my own part, I never wished

it.” She seemed to regret the necessity of a residence in Washington,

and remarked to a friend with an expression of the utmost sincerity, “I

assure you that I would rather be a door-keeper in the house of my God,

than to live in that Palace in Washington.”

Mrs. Jackson always purchased all the clothing and household articles,

both for her own and the servants’ use. Desiring to arrange everything

comfortable during the winter, for she knew that General Jackson would

have many friends at the Hermitage, she made frequent visits to

Nashville, and on one occasion heard the thoughtless remarks of persons

who probably forgot a moment afterward the words which broke the heart

of their victim. It was her custom usually to go to one of her most

intimate friends on reaching the city, and have the horses and carriage

put in the stable, and then go out shopping; but on this occasion she

went early in her cumbrous coach, and as she had many places to visit,

determined to send the driver to a livery stable and meet it in the

afternoon at the Nashville Inn, then the principal hotel in the city.

Weary and exhausted after a tedious day’s shopping, she went at the

appointed hour to the parlor of the hotel, and while waiting there, she

heard her name called in the adjoining room. It was impossible for her

not to hear, and there she sat, pale and excited, listening to a

repetition of calumnies which political strife had magnified and

promulgated. The bare truthful outlines of her early unfortunate

marriage were given, but so interwoven with false misrepresentations,

that she could hardly believe herself the subject of remark. All she did

hear was never known, but on her death-bed she told the circumstance to

her husband, and then he understood the cause of her violent attack. He

had tried to keep every paragraph and abusive line out of her sight, and

hoped that now, after the election was decided, this unhappy subject of

“her marriage before a divorce was granted,” would be dropped forever.

She had acted as she thought was the best, and indeed in every act of

her life she discovered the fine sense she displayed in her conduct

towards her first husband. But the malicious envy of people who could

not bear her elevation, caught at every straw to revile her pure and

blameless life. Had she lived unhappily with General Jackson, there

might have been some excuse for considering her a weak woman; but her

long, happy and beautiful existence as his wife, was a convincing proof

of her affectionate nature, and religious, high-minded soul. The fatal

error of her youth, in marrying a man her intellectual and moral

inferior, was more than atoned for in the miserable years she spent as

his unappreciated wife. She was sensitive and refined, and her nature

revolted at his coarseness. She had acted rashly in marrying him, but

she was loth to part with him. Was she to blame that she did not know

his character thoroughly before her marriage? The sigh that heaves from

the hearts of thousands of women as they recall a similar experience,

attests her innocence. Was she to blame for marrying again, when she and

every one who knew her believed her free? He had never provided a home

for her, she had always been compelled to live either with her mother or

his, thereby sealing her doom, for no wife, however kind her husband may

be, can be as happy in the home of her parents as she could in one of

her own, be it ever so lowly. Captain Robards never tried to make her

comfortable or contented, but augmented the sorrows of her young heart

by a course of conduct revolting in even the most degraded of men, and

inexcusable in him, since he was of a respectable family, and supposed

to be somewhat cultivated.

But her offence was the acceptance of a companion and friend, who would

shield her from poverty and unhappiness, and add to her life, what she

had never known, a husband and a home. The bonds of a civil marriage had

been dissolved, not by her efforts, but by her ungenerous, narrow-minded

husband, and she had become the wife of a man eminently suited to her.

With all the bitter experience of her short married life, she trustingly

confided her happiness into the keeping of one who never betrayed it,

and who made her existence a continued source of joy. In the higher

courts, in her conscience, but one marriage tie was recognized, and but

one possessed the entire affection of her young and chastened heart.

It had been arranged that a grand dinner and ball should be given on the

23d of December, to General and Mrs. Jackson, that day being the

anniversary of the night-battle below New Orleans; a day rendered

celebrated in the annals of his country by his own heroic achievements.

A week previous to this intended festival, and a few days after her

visit to Nashville, Mrs. Jackson was seized with a spasmodic affection

of the muscles of the chest and left shoulder, attended with an

irregular action of the heart, and great anxiety of countenance. The

suspense and uneasiness occasioned by the late political strife being at

an end, and the uncertainty of the event no longer torturing her, she

could bear up no further. One of the physicians in attendance upon her,

gives the following minute and interesting account:

“Being hastily sent for, I lost no time in rendering her all the

assistance in my power. Finding she had been bled before my arrival,

without any manifest abatement of the symptoms, I repeated the

operation, which was again had recourse to in the evening, on the

arrival of Dr. Hogg, an eminent physician of Nashville, who had been

sent for simultaneously with myself. These successive bleedings,

together with other treatment, produced great relief, and an entire

subsidence of all the alarming symptoms. The three following days she

continued to improve; she was cheerful, and could sit in her chair and

converse with her friends. On Monday night, however, she sat up too

long, caught cold, and had slight symptoms of pleurisy. These soon

yielded to the proper remedies, a profuse perspiration ensued, which it

was thought proper to encourage with mild, diluent drinks; everything

promised a favorable issue. In this situation, after Dr. Hogg and myself

had retired to an adjoining room, our patient unfortunately got up twice

and sat by the fire. The perspiration became suddenly checked. She cried

out, ‘I am fainting,’ was placed in bed, and in a moment afterwards she

was a lifeless corpse!

“All our efforts for her restoration were vain and fruitless. No blood

could be obtained either from the arm or the temporal artery.

Sensibility had ceased, life had departed; and her meek and quiet spirit

sought that rest with her God and her Redeemer, which a cruel world

refused to grant.

“From a careful review of the case, there seems to be no doubt but that

there was a sudden reflux of the blood from the surface and the

extremities, upon the heart and other organs, producing an engorgement

and consequent spasm of that important viscus. That her death is to be

attributed to this cause, rather than to an effusion of the brain, seems

to be inferable from the fact of the total and instantaneous cessation

of the functions of the heart. Not a pulsation could be perceived; her

lungs labored a minute or two, and then ceased.

“How shall I describe the agony—the heart-rending agony—of the venerable

partner of her bosom? He had, in compliance with our earnest entreaties,

seconded by those of his wife, left her chamber, which he could seldom

be persuaded to do, and had lain down in an adjoining room, to seek

repose for his harassed mind and body. A few minutes only had elapsed,

when we were hastily summoned to her chamber; and the General, in a

moment, followed us. But he was only in time to witness the last

convulsive effort of expiring nature. Then it was that all the feelings

of the devoted husband burst forth. His breast heaved, and his soul

seemed to struggle with a load too oppressive for frail humanity. Nor

was he the only mourner on this melancholy occasion. A numerous train of

domestics crowded around the bed of their beloved mistress, and filled

the room with their piercing cries. They could not bring their minds to

a belief of the painful reality that their mistress and friend, for such

indeed she was, lay before them a lifeless corpse. ‘Oh! is there no

hope?’ was their agonizing question; and vainly would they flatter

themselves with the belief, that perhaps ‘she was only fainting.’

“The distressing event spread with the rapidity of the wind; and

neighbors and relatives thronged the house from midnight until late the

following morning. Soon the painful tidings reached Nashville, twelve

miles distant, and a fresh concourse of friends pressed forward to show

their respect for the dead and to mourn with the living.”

Early on the morning of the 23d December, while active preparations for

the expected banquet were going on, and many bright eyes and gay hearts

were already, in anticipation, beginning the pleasures of the day, the

afflicting news reached the city, of the President’s unlooked-for and

terrible bereavement. This sad paragraph appeared in the papers and cast

a gloom over the breakfast-tables where so many had assembled in joy.

“In the midst of preparations for festivity and mirth, the knell of

death is heard, and on the very day which it was arranged and expected

that our town should be a scene of general rejoicing, we are suddenly

checked in our career, and are called on to array ourselves in garments

of solemnity and woe. Mrs. Rachel Jackson, wife of General Andrew

Jackson, President-elect of the United States, died last night, at the

Hermitage, in this vicinity. The intelligence of this awful and

unlooked-for event has created a shock in our community almost

unparalleled. It was known, a few days since, that Mrs. Jackson was

violently attacked by disease; which, however, was supposed to have been

checked, so as to afford a prospect of immediate restoration to health.

This day, being the anniversary of an interesting and important event in

the last war, was appropriately selected to testify the respect and

affection of his fellow-citizens and neighbors to the man who was so

soon to leave his sweet domestic retirement, to assume the

responsibilities and discharge the important duties of Chief Magistrate

of the nation. The preparations were already made; the table was

well-nigh spread, at which all was expected to be hilarity and joy, and

our citizens had sallied forth on the happy morning with spirits light

and buoyant, and countenances glowing with animation and hope,—when

suddenly the scene is changed, congratulations are converted into

expressions of condolence, tears are substituted for smiles, and sincere

and general mourning pervades a community where, but a moment before,

universal happiness and public rejoicing prevailed. But we have neither

time nor room, at present, to indulge in further reflections on this

melancholy occurrence. Let us submit with resignation and fortitude to

the decrees, however afflicting, of a just and merciful, though

mysterious and inscrutable Providence.”

The preparations making for the festivity were immediately stopped, upon

the arrival of the melancholy information; and, in their stead, the

committee of arrangements, together with the Mayor and Aldermen of the

city, recommended to the citizens, as an evidence of their deep regret

and sympathy for the calamity which had befallen their honored

fellow-citizen, to suspend for one day the ordinary business of life,

which was cordially observed. In the course of the morning, a card eight

inches long and six inches wide, with a mourning border one-third of an

inch in width, was printed, containing the following announcement:

“The committee appointed by the citizens of Nashville to superintend the

reception of General Jackson on this day, with feelings of deep regret,

announce to the public that MRS. JACKSON departed this life last night,

between the hours of ten and eleven o’clock.

“Respect for the memory of the deceased, and a sincere condolence with

him on whom this providential affliction has fallen, forbid the

manifestations of public regard intended for the day.

“In the further consideration of the painful and unexpected occasion

which has brought them together, the committee feel that it is due to

the exemplary virtues and exalted character of the deceased, that some

public token should be given of the high regard entertained towards her

while living. They have, therefore, resolved,

“That it be respectfully recommended to their fellow-citizens of

Nashville, in evidence of this feeling, to refrain, on to-morrow, from

the ordinary pursuits of life.

“JOSIAH NICHOL, Chairman.

“_December 23d._”

The city authorities also passed suitable resolutions, the last of which

reads as follows:

“Resolved, That the inhabitants of Nashville are respectfully invited to

abstain from their ordinary business on to-morrow, as a mark of respect

for Mrs. Jackson, and that the church bells be tolled from one until two

o’clock, being the hour of her funeral.”

These proceedings were signed by Felix Robertson, Mayor, and attested by

E. Dibbrell, Recorder.

About a fortnight before her death, she remarked to a friend, that

although she had lived with Mr. Jackson nearly forty years, there had

never an unkind word passed between them, and the only subject on which

they ever differed, or where there was the slightest opposition, was his

acceptance of appointments when conferred upon him; she being always

unwilling for him to enter upon public life. Such was the woman whom

General Jackson was called upon to separate from, at a moment of all

others the most trying.

Although the weather was unfavorable, her friends assembled from every

point, to pay the last tribute of respect to one who could befriend them

no more. Every vehicle in Nashville, and there were more at that day

than now, in proportion to the population, was put in requisition. The

road to the Hermitage had not been macadamized, and it was,

consequently, at that season of the year almost impassable; yet an

immense number of persons attended the funeral.

When the hour of interment drew near, the General, who had not left the

beloved remains, was informed that it was time to perform the last sad

rites. The scene that then ensued is beyond description. There was no

heart that did not ache, no eye that did not weep. Many of the officers

present, who had shared with the General his difficulties and dangers;

who had seen him in the most trying situations; who had eyed him when

his gallant soldiers were suffering for food to sustain life, and he

unable to relieve them; who had witnessed him on the battle-field, when

the wounded and the dying were brought before him, and every muscle

seemed moved, and his very frame agonized with sorrow; yet had seen no

suffering, however poignant or excessive, affect the General like this

great affliction. When he bade his final adieu to the last kindred link

that bound him to earth, his Roman fortitude seemed for a time to be

completely overcome. It was a soul-rending sight to see an old veteran,

whose head was whitened by the hardships he had endured for his country,

bending over the lifeless form of an affectionate wife, whose death was

hastened by the cruelty of those whose rights he had so nobly defended.

By a muscular and almost superhuman effort, he endeavored to check the

current of his grief; and, waving his hand to the afflicted company,

begged them to weep no more. “I know,” said he, “it is unmanly, but

these tears were due to her virtues. She shed many for me.” But one wish

pervaded the assembly, that the individuals who had hastened this scene

by their relentless attacks on an unoffending woman, could be brought to

witness the saddest spectacle that any present had ever beheld.

But they were not there to witness the effects of their calumnies. She

was dead, and they were vanquished. Ever after that funeral, his

opponents complained that his personal feelings were allowed to govern

his public acts, and that to be suspected by him of having believed

aught of slander against his wife, was the unpardonable crime which he

never forgave. Brave old Hero! how deathless was the feeling which to

the latest hour of his life displayed the strength made manifest from

its inception! Silent and grave he was on the subject, but forgetfulness

or indifference did not occasion such a course of action, as too many

found to their sorrow. A dangerous look in his flashing eye satisfied

any one of the sacred ground, and few braved his anger by recalling an

unpleasant recollection connected with her. The inhumanity of the world

robbed him of his treasure, and darkened his life, but while he lived

her name was a hallowed sound breathed in the darkened recesses of his

bruised and lonely heart, which cheered him on to the portals of the

tomb through which she had passed to immortality.

The dear remains were interred in a corner of the Hermitage garden; and

thither the afflicted General was supported by General Coffee and Major

Rutledge. The following gentlemen were pall-bearers: Governor Sam

Houston, Col. Ephraim H. Foster, Col. George Wilson, Gen. Robert

Armstrong, Col. Sam. B. Marshall, Col. Allen, Mr. Solomon Clark, and

Major G. W. Campbell.

A resident of Nashville, writing to his brother in Philadelphia, said:

“Such a scene I never wish to witness again. I never pitied any person

more in my life than General Jackson. I never before saw so much

affliction among servants on the death of a mistress. Some seemed

completely stupefied by the event; others wrung their hands and shrieked

aloud. The woman that had waited on Mrs. Jackson had to be carried off

the ground. After the funeral, the General came up to me and shook my

hand. Some of the gentlemen mentioning my name, he again caught my hand,

and squeezed it three times, but all he could utter was ‘Philadelphia.’

I shall never forget his look of grief.”

Through the kindness of Sarah Jackson, the widow of General Jackson’s

adopted son, I am in possession of a book compiled by Mr. Earl, under

the direction of the General himself, entitled in gilt letters on the

back, “Obituary Notices of Mrs. Jackson.” It contains the funeral card

before mentioned; a great number of eulogies taken from the papers of

the day; innumerable paragraphs expressive of respect and sympathy; and

a synopsis of the funeral sermon, in manuscript. It was preached by the

Reverend William Hume, of Nashville, and has never heretofore been

published. It will be found interesting, not only as the funeral

discourse of so eminent a lady, but as a specimen of a sermon delivered

forty years ago, in a country so undeveloped as Tennessee was in those

days.

“The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance.”

Psalm cxii., 6th verse.

“These words might be applied to that venerable matron, with much

propriety, as she gave every reasonable evidence that she was among the

righteous. Indeed, as her name is indissolubly connected with that of

the President of the United States, it shall be held in remembrance

while the page of history displays the memorable actions of General

Jackson. The words of the Psalmist, however, are applicable to her in a

much nobler sense.

“The death of this worthy lady is much deplored, not only by her

distinguished husband and immediate relations, but by a large majority

of the people of the United States of America. Her character was so well

known to multitudes who visited the Hermitage, the abode of hospitality,

that the following remarks will readily be acknowledged as true:

“With respect to her religious principles, they were such as are held

sound by all religious denominations that are commonly called

evangelical. Convinced of the depravity of human nature, as taught in

the Holy Scriptures, she relied on the Spirit of God alone, to

illuminate, renovate and purify that nature that it might be qualified

for the unspotted society of heaven. Believing with the inspired Paul,

that by the works of the law, no flesh can be justified in the sight of

God, her dependence for eternal life was placed on the merits and

mediation of Jesus. Fully persuaded that the law is holy and the

commandment holy, and that God will not acquit the sinner from

condemnation, in a way that will conceal the dignity of His government,

the purity of His nature, the truth of His threatening, or the glory of

His unchangeable justice, she derived all her hope of acceptance with

God from Him who ‘bore our sins in His own body on the tree; who

suffered, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God.’

“While, however, her whole dependence for acceptance with God was

founded upon the atonement of the Son of God, through whom grace reigns

unto eternal life, she knew that this doctrine did not tend to

immorality. She was taught by Paul that holiness is always inseparably

connected with this dependence on the merits of the Saviour, and that

every motive to holiness arising from interest or gratitude or the

pleasures of religion remains in full force; she therefore abounded in

good works. Assured by the infallible testimony of her Lord and Master,

that every branch of the true vine, as it derives its verdure, beauty,

vigor, and sap from the vine is fruitful, she, a genuine branch, was so

too. In acts of piety, as adoration, thanksgiving and praise, she took

delight. Her seat was seldom empty in the house of God. Though very

often surrounded with company from every State in the Union, neither she

nor her illustrious husband neglected the house of God on that account.

The tears of genuine penitence were often shed by her in the temple of

the Lord. She had a tender and a feeling heart, and sometimes I have

seen the tears bedewing her cheeks while she was speaking of the

dangerous condition of those around her, who seemed to be entirely

careless about a future state. Indeed, her devotional spirit was

manifest in all her conduct. She meditated on the wonders of redeeming

love with much delight, as the source of her present joy and future hope

of glory. Indeed, her piety was acknowledged by all who knew her, as it

manifested itself by the most unequivocal proofs; a reverential awe, a

supreme love and profound veneration for the incomparable excellences of

God, and a cordial gratitude to Him as the source of all her mercies.

Her love to God was displayed by an unusual obedience to His commands

and by an humble submission to His providence.

“As a wife, connected with one who stood so high in the estimation of

his fellow-citizens, she was, as a Christian, exposed to some peculiar

temptations; for who can resist the fascinations of honor and of power?

While she rejoiced in the honor of a nation of freemen spontaneously

given to a husband so dear to her heart, yet no unbecoming elation of

mind, no haughtiness, no overbearing conduct, could ever be seen, even

by an inimical eye, in this amiable lady. She was adorned with the

ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, in an eminent degree. Esteem and

affection were so mixed in her bosom for her husband, that her

respectful behavior to him, in her house and among her connections and

acquaintances, struck every beholder as the soft impulse of the

sweetness of her disposition; so that by her kindness and affability,

her husband was more happy in his own family than in the midst of his

triumphs. In consequence of her amiable manners, his own house was the

chief place of his enjoyment.

“The tears and lamentations of the servants are proofs of the most

unequivocal kind of her excellence as the mistress of her household.

Never did children seem to mourn more sincerely for a mother than the

household servants lament for her. The cordial regard of her servants

may well be attributed to the gentleness of her commands, the calmness

of her temper, and her tenderness in treating them in health and in

sickness. She was, indeed, a mother to her family.

“The widow and the orphan will long lament the death of Mrs. Jackson. In

the circle of the widows and orphans her benevolence accompanied with

the most substantial acts of beneficence, shone with distinguished

splendor. To her the words of Job may be properly applied: ‘When the ear

heard her, then it blessed her; and when the eye saw her, it gave

witness to her, because she delivered the poor that cried, and the

fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that

was ready to perish came upon her, and she caused the widow’s heart to

sing for joy. She put on righteousness, and it clothed her. Her judgment

was a robe and a diadem. She was eyes to the blind, and feet to the

lame, and a mother to the poor.’ Blest with affluence, she had a heart

to feel and a hand to relieve the poor and the needy. She viewed the

bounties of Providence not only to refresh herself and her family, but

as designed by her Benefactor to flow in channels leading to the doors

of those who were perishing of thirst, that they, also, might quaff and

be satisfied.

“Some, indeed, during the Presidential struggle, with unfeeling hearts

and unjustifiable motives, exerted all their powers to throw her

numerous virtues into the shade. It was, no doubt, the intention of the

defamers to arouse the indignation of her husband that he might

perpetrate some act to prevent his elevation to that high station to

which the American people resolved that he should be raised. Under this

cruel treatment Mrs. Jackson displayed the temper of a disciple of Him

who was meek and lowly of heart. Her meekness was conspicuous under all

the injuries and provocations which were designed to provoke and

exasperate her. Seldom, indeed, has the busy tongue of slander and

detraction been more gratuitously and basely employed; never was it put

to silence with more helplessness and confusion than in the case of this

amiable and pious lady. Influenced by the religion that she professed,

she restrained all immoderate sallies of passion and harsh language on

that trying occasion. She felt, indeed, the injustice of the warfare.

Her compassionate heart was wrung with sorrow. Her tears flowed, but

there was no malevolence in her bosom. She could have received no

pleasure in giving pain to her detractors. Confiding in God, that He

would bring forth her righteousness as the light, and her salvation as a

lamp that burneth, she was not disappointed.

“She was permitted to live until the people of America, by their

unbiased suffrage, asserted their full conviction of her innocence in a

manner calculated to shame and confound the most furious and

unprincipled of her defamers. Yes, she lived to see every cloud of

calumny blown away by the united breath of the American people; and

found herself and her beloved husband in the enjoyment of an unclouded

sky, favored with the smiles and the esteem of a people uninfluenced by

detractors and qualified to form their own opinions.

“While we cordially sympathize with the President of the United States,

in the irreparable loss he has sustained in the death of his amiable

lady, whom he deemed so worthy, as he said, of our tears; we, from our

long acquaintance with Mrs. Jackson, and our many opportunities of

seeing her virtues displayed, cannot doubt but that she now dwells in

the mansions of glory in company with the ransomed of the Lord, singing

the praises of that Saviour whom she loved and served while she was a

pilgrim on earth. In heaven, she drinks of the pure stream of the river

of life, issuing from the throne of God and of the Lamb.”

Various newspapers, and among them, the _Mercury_ of Philadelphia,

clothed their columns in the badge of mourning; which was “alike

merited,” says the _Mercury_, “by his services and fame and her virtues

and piety.”

The ladies of Abingdon, Virginia, met and entered into resolutions to

transmit to General Jackson a letter “assuring him of the sincere regard

they bore the character and person of his deceased lady, and the sorrow

they feel at his afflictive bereavement,” and also to wear mourning

badges on their dresses for thirty days. The following is a copy of the

letter of condolence to General Jackson:

“_January 5th, 1829._

“DEAR SIR: We have heard, with the deepest sorrow, of your late

afflictive bereavement in the death of your truly pious and amiable

wife; and we have met to mingle our tears with yours for the irreparable

loss you have sustained. To weep on such an occasion is not blamable; it

is but a becoming tribute to departed worth; yet, at the same time, we

should bow with submission to the will of Him who ‘gives and who takes

away at his pleasure.’ She has gone, we trust, to those mansions ‘where

the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest,’ where the

voice of malice cannot reach her or the tongue of calumny disturb her.

“On such an occasion, when religion is deprived of one of its brightest

ornaments, and society of one of its most valuable members, we consider

it our duty to offer to her memory the tribute of esteem which is due to

her worth; and to give you, Sir, our sincerest condolence for this late

afflictive dispensation. At the same time, we offer our fervent prayer

to the Almighty disposer of human events, that your administration of

the high office to which you have lately been elected may be as wise and

happy as your military career was brilliant and successful.

“SARAH P. PRESTON.”

This effusion expressive of womanly feeling does infinite credit to the

highly esteemed authoress. She was a daughter of General William

Campbell, who so gloriously commanded the Virginia militia, and

afterwards a gallant corps in the battle of Guilford Court House, who,

in the language of the historian, were “the first engaged and the last

to quit.”

The Board of Mayor and Aldermen of Knoxville, Tennessee, unanimously

adopted a preamble and resolutions in regard to the death of Mrs.

Jackson. Joseph C. Strong was Mayor, and William Swan, Recorder. Colonel

Jacobs offered the paper, and we annex the resolutions:

“Resolved, That while we deeply regret the death of Mrs. Jackson, we

cannot but express our gratitude to the Supreme Governor of the

universe, that she was not taken from time to eternity until the people

of the Union had given a clear and distinct manifestation of the high

estimation in which they held the reputation of herself and husband.

“Resolved, That in consequence of the death of Mrs. Jackson, the Mayor

be directed to request the Rev. Thomas H. Nelson to preach a sermon

suitable to the occasion, in the First Presbyterian Church, at eleven

o’clock A. M., on Thursday, the first day of January next.

“Resolved, That the inhabitants of Knoxville be respectfully requested

to attend church, and abstain from their ordinary business on Thursday,

the first day of January next, as a tribute of respect to the memory of

the deceased. Dec. 29th, 1828.”

In accordance with the request contained in the second resolution, the

Reverend Thomas H. Nelson preached a funeral sermon on Thursday the

first day of January, 1829.

The Common Council of the city of New York passed resolutions of

condolence to mark their “deference for her domestic virtues, her

benevolence and her piety.” An authenticated copy of these resolutions

was forwarded to General Jackson.

A public gathering assembled at the Vine Street Meeting House,

Cincinnati, Ohio; at which a very large committee was appointed to draft

resolutions which they did, in honor of “a lady in whom by universal

consent, the practical charities of the heart were gracefully blended

with the purest and most unaffected piety.”

On the 8th of January, throughout the country, instead of the customary

firing of cannon commemorative of the day, a solemn silence was

maintained, as a token of respect for the deceased. At various public

dinners on that day, Mrs. Jackson’s death was alluded to in the most

gentle and sympathetic terms. As an illustration of the tone and spirit

of these allusions, we copy the following. At Boston, this toast was

offered by S. Fessenden, Esq.: “The memory of Mrs. Jackson—sadness to

our joy, but for the bright hope that the event which hath wrought for

him whose praise we celebrate a cypress chaplet, hath introduced her

whose memory we revere and whose death we deplore, to a crown of

unfading glory.”

In New Orleans the following toast was offered: “The memory of Mrs.

Jackson—an example of piety, benevolence, and every Christian virtue.

‘The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue.’”

In Nashville, Captain Parrish presented this—“The memory of Mrs.

Jackson.”

In Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, at the celebration of the members of the

Legislature, the following toast was drunk:—“The memory of Mrs.

Jackson—the amiable wife of the slandered hero. The grave now shrouds

her mortal remains, but her virtues will shine in brilliant purity, when

her unprincipled slanderers are lost to the memory of man.”

A touching reference to the sad event was made in the House of

Representatives by the Hon. Pryor Lea, of the Tennessee Delegation.

And so hundreds of pages of eulogies published in every section of the

Republic might be copied.

Many pieces of poetry mourning the death of Mrs. Jackson appeared in the

papers, one of which, from the _Cincinnati Advertiser_, is subjoined: