Front view of the Hermitage, home of Old Hickory.

THE HERMITAGE
Home of Old Hickory

By
STANLEY F. HORN

New York
GREENBERG : PUBLISHER

Copyright, 1950, by Stanley F. Horn
MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TO
MY WIFE
WITHOUT WHOSE INTEREST AND ENCOURAGEMENT THIS BOOK WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN WRITTEN

CONTENTS

PAGE [I. The Pre-Hermitage Period] 1 [II. Original Building, Fire and Rebuilding] 19 [III. Rescue and Restoration] 37 [IV. Description of the House] 58 [V. The Garden and Grounds] 73 [VI. The Hermitage Household] 97 [VII. Guests at the Hermitage] 137 [VIII. The Tennessee Farmer] 158 [IX. Church and Religion, and Final Days] 187 Appendices: [A: Chronology] 207 [B: Andrew Jackson’s Will] 209 [C: His Goings and Comings] 213 [D: Governing Boards] 220 [Index] 223

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE [Front View of the Hermitage,] Frontispiece [Original Log House] 2 [The First Hermitage] 3 [Imaginary Picture of the Hermitage] 10 [The Hermitage in 1831] 10 [Plat of the Hermitage Plantation] 11 [Old Print Showing the Young Cedar Trees] 11 [Front View of the House] 18 [Close-up View of the Façade] 19 [The Front Door] 26 [Rear View of the House] 26 [General Jackson Greeting Lafayette] 27 [Original Slave Cabin] 27 [Uncle Alfred] 34 [Sunday Morning at the Hermitage Church] 35 [The Hermitage Church] 42 [Interior of the Old Hermitage Church] 42 [Epitaph on Mrs. Jackson’s Tomb] 43 [The Tomb of General and Mrs. Jackson] 43 [Earl’s Portrait of General Jackson] 50 [The Old Family Carriage] 51 [Passage from the Kitchen] 58 [The Hermitage Well] 58 [Front Gate and Entrance Driveway] 59 [The Garden] 59 [One of the Garden Walks] 66 [View of the Garden from the House] 67 [General Jackson’s Desk] 82 [General Jackson’s Office] 83 [General Jackson’s Bedroom] 98 [Entrance Hall] 99 [The Stairway] 114 [Guest Room] 115 [The Back Parlor] 130 [The Dining Room] 131 [The Front Parlor] 146 [Upstairs Hall] 147 [Old Kitchen] 162 [Original Silverware] 163 [General Jackson’s Liquor Chest] 176 [Advertisement of Truxton] 177

DRAWINGS

[First Floor Plan] 170a [Second Floor Plan] 184a [Front Elevation,] Front end sheet [Rear Elevation,] Back end sheet

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The preservation of the Hermitage as one of America’s most cherished historic shrines is due to the vision and patriotic enthusiasm of the women composing the Ladies’ Hermitage Association, to whom all possible credit should be given for the work they have done.

Acknowledgment is made to the association for their permission to use the photographs of the interior of the Hermitage, to which they have the exclusive right. Other photographs are used by permission of Marvin Wiles, photographer, of Nashville, to whom the copyright belongs. The architectural drawings were furnished by the Library of Congress, Washington, having been prepared by the Historic American Buildings Survey.

The Author.

THE HERMITAGE: HOME OF OLD HICKORY

I: THE PRE-HERMITAGE PERIOD

“Put down in your book,” said one of Andrew Jackson’s old neighbors to James Parton when that eminent biographer was in Tennessee gathering material for his famous life of Jackson, “that the General was the prince of hospitality; not only because he entertained a great many people but because the poor, belated peddler was as welcome at the Hermitage as the President of the United States and made so much at his ease that he felt as though he had got home.”

And Parton put it down in his book, and so preserved to posterity that sincere and revealing tribute, eloquent in its simplicity, from a neighboring farmer. There spoke a man who knew Andrew Jackson not merely as the conqueror of the hostile Indians, the Hero of New Orleans or the President of the United States, but as the country gentleman who kept open house, who was known and admired by his fellow farmers and who was celebrated for his hospitality in a country where hospitality was a common virtue.

If an old house has emotions of its own, as some of the poets would have us believe, it is easy to think of the Hermitage blushing with pride at that tribute. There are many stately mansions, there are numerous great homes of famous men; but of how many of these may it be truthfully said that within its walls the poorest peddler with his pack found just as warm a welcome as the most distinguished visitor?

Fortunately for succeeding generations the Hermitage, that paragon of hospitality, is preserved just as it was in those early days when Old Hickory himself was there to greet the way-worn traveler—peddler or President—and make him feel at home. Serene and stately in its grove of trees, flanked by its formal garden and surrounded by its broad acres, it stands there a few miles out from Nashville in all its classic and simple beauty. Here is the home he built for himself and his beloved wife; the same old house to which he returned in 1837 after eight turbulent years in the White House; the place where he planted his cotton and raced his horses, where he spent his last years, where he died and where he is buried.

The visitor’s first glimpse of the house is down through the same old winding driveway, shaded with the native cedar trees planted under Jackson’s personal direction; and its broad façade is seen through the trees, its graceful Corinthian columns gleaming in the sunlight, just as it looked to the old General when he drove up in his lumbering carriage drawn by his famous team of greys. Off to the right is seen the formal flower garden he had laid out for Mrs. Jackson in 1819; the garden where he laid her to rest when she died in 1828, and along whose paths he found pleasure and repose during the last year of his life. Inside the house are found things just as he left them when he died—the hand-painted wall paper, the massive mahogany furniture, the gleaming silver, the books in their shelves in the library.

* * * *

As a persisting result of the astonishingly violent politics of his day, the image of Andrew Jackson in the public mind today is often blurred and distorted. In his campaign for the Presidency he was the victim of such a torrent of cruel, personal vilification as never before nor since has blackened the annals of American politics. In newspapers, broadsides, and public addresses he was persistently and vigorously denounced as an uncouth, ignorant backwoods ruffian, a tipsy tavern brawler, a military despot, an adulterer and an assassin. The voters of these United States were urged to believe that, despite his spectacular achievements as a militia general and Indian fighter, he was morally, mentally and temperamentally unfit to sit in the President’s chair.

This barrage of malignant partisan propaganda did not succeed in barring Jackson’s way to the White House; but it did have the effect of indelibly impressing on the minds of many thousands of American citizens of those days the honest conviction that Andrew Jackson was what we today tersely style a “roughneck;” and that impression has persisted to a surprising extent through succeeding generations even down to the present time.

The log house on the right is one of the group constituting the original Hermitage residence from 1804 until the erection of the present building in 1819. The house on the left is the remains of the two-storied house which was the center of the original group.

The first Hermitage on the present site, as it appeared from the time it was built in 1819 until the wings were added in 1831.

But the Hermitage remains as an enduring and impressive challenge to that erroneous characterization of this many-sided and little understood statesman. This, it is plain to see, was the home of no mere backwoodsman or ruffian. A mansion when it was built more than a hundred years ago, it was obviously the seat of a man of genteel characteristics, of refined, though simple taste.

It is no uncommon thing today for visitors to the Hermitage to express surprise that such a house should have been built by Andrew Jackson; but such surprise grows out of a misconception of the man’s true nature and characteristics.

The usually accepted picture of Jackson in the public mind is largely the result of our American admiration of the primitive, a love for the so-called manly and rugged qualities which sometimes leads us into overdoing our humanizing of some of our early heroes. As a matter of fact, Jackson, though not a college graduate, was by no means a typical example of the popular conception of an illiterate frontiersman. He had had formal schooling, had studied law and had been admitted to the North Carolina bar when at the age of twenty-one years he crossed the mountains and came to the Cumberland settlements in what is now Tennessee. His standard of education was notably higher than the average of that day and locality. He came to the Cumberland country as the state’s attorney for the newly created Mero District, and we may be sure that an uneducated, uncouth man would never have been selected by the governor of North Carolina for this important post.

Furthermore, although he was born in comparative poverty—a posthumous child—his widowed mother, soon to die of yellow fever while nursing wounded Revolutionary soldiers, had relatives with whom to leave him. These relatives were people of substance, ranking sufficiently high to entertain George Washington on his visit to South Carolina in 1791, and they gave the orphan Andrew the benefit of a boyhood spent amid the surroundings of a prosperous and cultured Southern family.

So, while the youthful Andrew Jackson engaged in cock-fighting, horse-racing and dueling, these were by no means unusual pastimes for the high-spirited youths of that time. He had the innate qualities of a gentleman; and those qualities find their truest manifestation in the home he built for the declining years of his wife and himself.

* * * *

The Hermitage, though it has gained world-wide fame as Andrew Jackson’s home, was not his dwelling place when he first settled in the Nashville community in 1788. At that time the danger of attacks by Indians had not yet entirely disappeared, and residents of the outlying districts still frequently lived in “stations”—groups of houses gathered about a central habitation, thus offering the opportunity for protection against attack. At such a station near Nashville lived the widow of John Donelson, who had been one of the founders of the original Nashborough, and it was in one of the cabins adjacent to her home that Andrew Jackson lived when he settled in the new country. With him lived his friend, John Overton, later his law partner and his lifelong confidant and advisor. The two young lawyers hung out their shingle together, with their office in the cabin where they lived, taking their meals with the widow Donelson.

Living with Mrs. Donelson at this time was her daughter Rachel, the estranged bride of a high-spirited and jealous Kentuckian named Lewis Robards. The young couple had gone to Kentucky to live when they married, but the jealous husband made life with him intolerable and Rachel soon returned to her mother’s house, where Jackson found her when he went there to live. Largely through the pacific efforts of John Overton, an old friend of the Robards family, and at the instigation of Lewis Robards’s mother whose sympathies were with Rachel in the affair, a reconciliation was patched up and Captain Robards came to the widow Donelson’s home late in 1788 to live again with his wife. Soon, however, Robards created a new crisis by charging Jackson with undue attentions to his wife. The fiery young lawyer challenged Robards to a duel, but the challenge was declined and in the spring of 1790 Robards returned to Kentucky with the avowed intention of getting a divorce. In the fall of that year the news drifted down to Nashville that the divorce had been granted, and about a year later, in the latter part of 1791, Jackson married Rachel.

The wedding ceremony took place in Natchez, Mississippi, whither she had fled to escape from her husband’s threats. “I’m going to haunt you!” Robards told her when he left her; and she, not knowing exactly what that threat implied but well knowing her moody husband’s erratic disposition, feared bodily harm and thought it safest to get as far away from him as possible. The home of relatives in Natchez provided a pleasing asylum in this emergency; and so it was there that the marriage ceremony was performed.

But, alas, it developed that the news of the divorce was premature—the marriage with Jackson was consummated before the attenuated Kentucky divorce proceedings had been actually completed. Legally, therefore, Mrs. Robards-Jackson was technically guilty of bigamy; but the incensed Robards used a harsher term in discussing the young Tennessee lawyer’s relations with his erstwhile wife. Jackson patched the thing up as best he could by having another wedding ceremony promptly performed in January, 1794, after the Kentucky divorce was actually granted; but the irregularities attending his marriage rose to plague him again and again throughout his life, with his political enemies gleefully making capital of the unfortunate episode to the fullest possible extent.

Jackson at the time of his marriage, though still a young man, was in prosperous circumstances. His success as a lawyer in the new community had been almost instantaneous, due largely to an unusual state of affairs existing in the Cumberland settlements when he arrived there. Nashville was still a young and undeveloped frontier town and up until the time of Jackson’s arrival boasted only one lawyer. This representative of the legal fraternity had been retained as counsel for a sort of combination of habitual debtors; and the result was that the merchants, as well as other creditors, found it well-nigh impossible to collect what was owing to them. When Jackson appeared on the scene and let it be known that he was a lawyer looking for clients, he was immediately offered these claims; and it was characteristic of him that he accepted with avidity a difficult class of litigation from which many other young lawyers might have shrunk. But Jackson’s physical and moral courage made him enjoy the kind of a fight against odds that most people would avoid; and he prosecuted his clients’ claims with such boldness and vim that he soon drove an irresistible wedge into the debt-paying strike. Naturally this immediately popularized him with the responsible elements in Nashville, and his law practice quickly flourished. Within seven years of his arrival in 1788 he had more cases on the docket in Davidson County than all the other Nashville lawyers combined. In the four terms of court in the county in 1794 there were 397 cases; Andrew Jackson appeared as counsel in 288 of them.

Although he had accepted his official appointment with a mental reservation and had really come out to Nashville on a sort of prospecting trip, he soon decided to stay and grow up with the new settlement. His position as attorney-general or public prosecutor of the Mero District gave him distinction and naturally strengthened his legal prestige, and his private law practice had quickly developed to such an extent that at the time of his marriage he enjoyed a comfortable income.

There is a persistent legend that Jackson quickly accumulated vast holdings of land by reason of his practice of taking land grants and acreage tracts in lieu of legal fees, and that when he married he had so much land he hardly knew the extent of his property. It is true that after he had been in Nashville several years he did begin to trade and traffic in land, and gradually blossomed into a land speculator on a grand scale whose holdings ran into the thousands of acres. Contrary to tradition, however, at the time of his marriage he did not own an acre of ground anywhere; and he did not have a home to which to take his new bride.

The records are rather vague as to the first two or three years of the married life of Andrew and Rachel; but, from all the available facts, it appears that they spent at least a part of their honeymoon living at or near Natchez and then returned to Nashville and probably lived temporarily with Mrs. Donelson. But in February, 1792, the land transfer records show that Andrew Jackson bought from John Donelson (Rachel’s brother) a farm of 330 acres located in the foot of Jones Bend of the Cumberland River, just across the river from the home of old Mrs. Donelson on the Gallatin Road.

Here on this 330-acre river farm Jackson established his first home of his own. He called the place Poplar Grove—at least a letter written to John McKee on May 16, 1794, is so headed. Apparently, however, this name did not exactly suit him, for a letter to John Coffee written the next year is dated from Poplar Flat. All trace of his habitation on this farm has now disappeared, although there is a faint reminiscence of his tenancy in a “Jackson’s well” still to be found in that neighborhood.

It is interesting to note, that this Jones Bend (now called Hadley’s Bend) was the site chosen by the United States government for the location of its gigantic smokeless powder manufacturing plant in 1917, and the acreage of Poplar Flat was swallowed up in the consolidation of the farms that went to make up the great powder plant tract. In honor of the old hero who once tilled these acres, the operation was officially known as the Old Hickory Powder Plant; and the little industrial town that has grown up out of that development is now called Old Hickory.

Jackson’s personal affairs flourished while he was living at Poplar Flat, and the land records of Davidson County in 1793 begin to show the first evidences of his land trading. As he prospered he, as was natural, wanted a better and bigger place to live; and so on March 16, 1796, he bought from one John Shannon a tract of 640 acres further up in the bend of the river, and here he set up his new home which he called Hunter’s Hill.

There was a strange element of romance connected with this selection of a place to live—perhaps by design, perhaps through coincidence. It appears that when young Captain Robards effected his reconciliation with Rachel in 1788 it was part of the agreement that they would set up a home in Tennessee. At any rate, Robards entered 640 acres, “on the south side of Cumberland River, beginning at an ash, thence south 234 poles, etc.” for which he paid the state of North Carolina at the rate of ten pounds for each hundred acres. After his divorce in 1794 Captain Robards—a little sadly, no doubt—sold his tract of land to John Shannon of Logan County, Kentucky, and it was this self-same piece of ground that Jackson bought from Shannon in 1796 and on which he established his new home.

It seems unlikely that it was a mere coincidence that led Jackson to take up his residence on the land originally selected for home-making purposes by his predecessor in Rachel’s affections. Did she herself guide Captain Robards’ selection of the location in the first place, and did she have some lingering sentimental attachment for it which caused her to influence Jackson to buy it for her after they were married? Who knows what was going on in Rachel’s head as her brilliant young husband began to clear the way for their new home on the site where a few years ago she had expected to live with her first mate?

The Hunter’s Hill house no longer exists, having been destroyed by fire long ago; but, from all accounts, it was a notable home for its day and time. For one thing, it was of frame construction when most of the frontier houses were built of logs; and it was looked upon then as one of the fine houses of the community. It had an elevated location and commanded an inspiring view of the winding river and the fertile bend. Few if any young married men in the Cumberland country had a better estate.

Andrew Jackson, the energetic young lawyer from the civilized side of the mountains, was now established as a man of affairs in the new settlements. His legal attainments had attracted such attention outside of Nashville that in 1790 when the federal government established “The Territory South of the River Ohio” George Washington had appointed Jackson district attorney, an office he held until 1796 when he was elected to serve in the convention which in that year framed the constitution for the new state of Tennessee.

But Jackson’s great energy and great ambition made it impossible for him to be satisfied with the activities incident to the practice of law, holding public office and cultivating a farm. And so it was not long before he established a store at Hunter’s Hill, a store at which, according to tradition, both he and Rachel waited on the trade.

The business of the store was varied and extensive in its nature. Goods such as the settlers needed were brought on from the East, Philadelphia principally; and as the selling price in Nashville was about three times the cost in Philadelphia, there was a good margin of gross profit although the cost of transportation was high. A typical invoice from Jackson’s Philadelphia connections shows a shipment of dry goods—linen, calico, nankeen, cambrick, gingham, ribbons, buttons, thread, etc.—ivory combs, fancy silk handkerchiefs, “Spanish segars,” gloves, hats and kid shoes, as well as queensware, hand saws, screw augers, scissors, knives, etc. They also sold other such pioneer necessities as salt, sugar, coffee, grindstones, gunpowder, nails, bar iron and cow bells; not to mention rum, brandy, claret and whiskey, which latter beverage retailed at 75c per gallon and which Jackson made in his own licensed still-house.

Money was a scarce article around the Nashville settlements in those days and the store did much of its business on the primitive basis of barter, taking in the customers’ cotton, bear skins, oak staves, deer skins, feathers, beeswax, tallow or any other saleable commodity. There was a market for all these things in Natchez and New Orleans; and at intervals, whenever a boatload was accumulated, it was floated down the river to those towns and there converted into cash.

When Tennessee was made into a state in 1796 Andrew Jackson was selected to serve as its lone member of the House of Representatives, and he entered into the deliberations of Congress with such spirit and distinction that in 1797, at the age of thirty-one, he was elected to the United States Senate to take the place of William Blount who had been impeached for alleged treasonable transactions. But the Senate suited Jackson but little, and early in 1798 he resigned to accept a seat on the Superior Court of Tennessee. In February, 1802, another honor was added to his lengthening scroll when he was made major-general of the state militia, and he held this office concurrently with his judgeship.

But Jackson suffered the traditional fate of the man who has too many irons in the fire.

While he was thus engaged in the public service, his personal fortunes were not prospering; and so in 1804 he resigned his place on the bench and gave his whole attention to the task of trying to straighten out the tangle into which his business affairs had drifted, partly because of the financial panic which swept the country in 1798 and 1799, and partly as a result of misplaced confidence. The business depression carried down a supposedly wealthy man in Philadelphia whose notes Jackson had accepted and endorsed. Before he knew what was happening to him, he found himself confronted with unexpected obligations; but it was characteristic of Jackson that he met this heart-breaking situation unflinchingly and paid every cent as it came due. It was a painful process, however, for it involved selling off much of his property and practically making a new start in life.

“Our A. Jackson has made sale of his possessions,” the firm of Jackson & Hutchings on July 31st, 1804, wrote to Boggs & Davidson, their New Orleans connection. “He is to receive two-thirds of the amount on Christmas day next. This, we flatter ourselves, will enable us to meet all our debts next spring.”

This entirely imaginary and erroneous picture of the Hermitage was used extensively and for a long time despite its inaccuracy. This and similar pictures were based on a view printed in The Jackson Wreath in 1829 which was admittedly drawn “from a description furnished by a friend at Washington.”

The Hermitage as it appeared after the wings and portico were added to the original house in 1831.

Plat of the 500 acres of the Hermitage plantation as acquired by the State from Andrew Jackson, Jr.

An old print (circa 1840) showing the young cedar trees planted by General Jackson. The artist has distorted the true lines of the guitar-shaped driveway. The house in the distance, on the right, is Tulip Grove, home of Andrew Jackson Donelson.

So the creditors of Jackson & Hutchings and of “our A. Jackson” were satisfied; but so the Hunter’s Hill estate, in which he and Rachel took so much pride, passed into other hands, being sold on July 6, 1804, to Colonel Edward Ward. “Necessity (as security for Thomas Watson and John Hutchings) compelled me to sell the Hunter’s Hill tract” Jackson wrote in after years, with just a trace of bitterness. The $10,000 received for the place helped put Jackson back on his feet; but there must have been a tear in Rachel’s eye as she looked back over her shoulder at the home where she had been so happy as the bride of the coming young man.

And even the financial relief did not come immediately, for Colonel Ward made the purchase on long and involved terms. He delivered to Jackson the bond of a Mr. Lew Jones for £1670, Virginia currency, (equivalent to $5,566.67 in Tennessee money), due on December 15, 1804. He paid $1,794.91 in cash in January, 1805; $463.71 in cash in February; and in March $666.67 in cash and 6,899 pounds of cotton, worth $1,000.35 at the then price of 14½ cents per pound. Payments then ceased, and on May 7th Jackson wrote Ward a strongly worded dunning letter insisting on the payment of the balance of $1,721.88 still due. “When you recollect,” he wrote to Colonel Ward, “that I turned myself out of house and home, by the sale of my possessions to you, purely to meet my engagements, you must know that the anxiety must be great in my mind to meet them, with the sacrifice of ease and comfort that I made upon that occasion. I need only to add that my creditors are growing clamorous and I must have money from some source.”

Ward, in response to this appeal, paid $278.22 on account, and then instituted a quibble on the ground that he should be permitted to pay the balance in negroes rather than in cash. Jackson vigorously refuted this suggestion, saying: “I can not believe that you are seriously impressed with the belief that you are now authorized to discharge a part of the debt in negroes. Had negroes been offered before Mr. Hutchings descended the river with negroes for sale they would have been received, notwithstanding the lapse of time. Of his departure you were informed by me, with the express design that you might discharge part of the debt in negroes if you thought proper, which if you had I would have been in cash for them before this. As you did not have negroes then, and the time elapsed, I did (and with propriety) conclude that you had provided other means to meet your engagement; and negroes would not have been named after we had sent on to market and the time so far elapsed.” Jackson also refused Ward’s proffer of real estate in settlement of the balance due, pointing out that if his own creditors would accept real estate in payment of their claims he could dispose of all his debts “in four hours.” He then went on to say that he must have cash the following week and that if he did not receive it he would be obliged to offer Ward’s bond for sale (an extreme step to take in those days). “But,” said Jackson, “my engagements I must meet. This was the object of the sale of my possessions, and from that sale I must realize that object.”

Poor General Jackson! It is hard to imagine a worse plight than to sacrifice a dearly beloved house and home in order to get money to pay one’s debts—and then not get the money without a year’s unpleasant squabbling.

The Hunter’s Hill place was repurchased by Jackson, perhaps for sentimental reasons, during the more prosperous later days when he was President; but it was on the market again in 1840 when financial embarassment again made it necessary for the General to dispose of some of his property. The price at which it was then offered was $15,000, which he considered a very low price for it; “but,” he said, “a little imprudence (on the part of Andrew, junior,) has caused this necessity, and I would always rather sacrifice property than the credit of my adopted son or myself.” Fifteen thousand dollars may have been a bargain price, as the General said; but he was able to find no buyer at that figure and late in 1840 he sold it to Mrs. Elizabeth E. Donelson, widow of his wife’s brother John, for $12,000; and it is still in the hands of descendants of this branch of the family.

In 1804, after paying off his debts, practically all of Jackson’s remaining assets were embraced in his reduced land holdings, including the tract of 420 acres adjoining Hunter’s Hill which he bought from Nathaniel Harp when forced to sell his home place. It was to this plantation, the future Hermitage estate, that he repaired when forced to give up Hunter’s Hill.

Just when the removal was made is not accurately revealed by the records. In a letter written in 1844 he stated that he bought the Hermitage land “on the 5th of July, 1804.” His last recorded letter from Hunter’s Hill is dated August 25, 1804, and the first one from the Hermitage April 7, 1805. It seems probable, however, that the removal to the Hermitage plantation had been in contemplation even before adversity forced it; for in the Jackson papers is a receipt dated March 2, 1803, for 500 apple trees and 500 peach trees “for the Hermitage orchard;” and in a letter written to Rachel on March 22, 1803, while he was attending court in East Tennessee he inquires solicitously about the planting and care of these young trees. Apparently thus early he was getting the Hermitage tract ready for occupancy; although the county records show that the land was not transferred to him until July, 1804.

The sale of the Hunter’s Hill property necessarily forced the removal of the store, and led to the establishment of a much more pretentious business enterprise at Clover Bottom. Here he set up not only a store but a tavern and boatyard as well, and he encouraged the establishment of a race track and stables in which he took an interest. This made Clover Bottom a center of interest for the whole countryside and a favorite place for the assembling of the people. Clover Bottom is located on the Nashville-Lebanon Road, where it crosses Stone’s River, just above that stream’s confluence with the Cumberland, and it was therefore an unexcelled location for a man who operated a boatyard as well as a store and who also had blooded horses and liked to see them run.

Soon after the establishment of the store at Hunter’s Hill the mercantile business had grown to such proportions that Jackson could not handle it by himself, and he had taken in a partner named Thomas Watson. This partnership did not work out satisfactorily, however, and was dissolved, after which he took in John Hutchings, whose father had married Mrs. Jackson’s sister. The firm of Jackson and Hutchings thrived and even showed itself an early disciple of the chain-store idea by establishing branch stores at Gallatin and Lebanon. When the business was moved to Clover Bottom, John Coffee, who was a brother-in-law of Mrs. Jackson’s was also taken into the partnership.

By dint of hard work and close application, Jackson at length managed to clear himself of his financial troubles; but it was a long, hard pull, and for several years he felt the pinch of reduced circumstances. In fact, so difficult was his situation that in 1810 the whole course of his life was near to being changed, and a slight turn of the balance in the other direction then would have found him selling out in Tennessee and removing elsewhere to begin life over again in a new field. At this time the Hermitage plantation was definitely on the market, and Jackson was actively seeking some appointment that would take him elsewhere.

It will be recalled that Jackson fought his duel with Charles Dickinson in 1806, and the death of Dickinson in this tragic affair shocked the sensibilities of even the hardy pioneer citizens of Nashville who were accustomed to duelling. A few days after the duel Jackson’s old friend and former law partner, John Overton, wrote him the following comforting, friendly letter:

Dear Genl:

Until yesterday evening, I must confess, my mind was not at ease. I was then relieved. To-day I have seen my brother who tells me of a little circumstance I did not know, that you were a little touched, but not to do any great damage. Pope in his Essay on Man says: “Whatever is, is right.” To this small inconvenience we must submit, which is not much more than the stumping of a toe, or the like.

It too frequently happens that the honest, unsuspecting part of society will be infested with reptiles, the heads of which must be sought after and bruised so as to be secure from their poison. God has so ordained it. You have been the instrument of doing so. Fear nothing. As soon as possible I will see you. Our mutual friend, Wm. P. Anderson, will come to see you, who makes my best wishes for you.

Apropos, aside, there is a few long faces in town, though but few, for it seems that this new-fangled Ajax had even went so far as to bet in town, before he went over, that he would kill Genl. Jackson. Yr friend, Jno. Overton Gen’l Jackson. Nashville, June 1806.

This consoling letter from his old friend must have laid unction to Jackson’s soul; but not all of the Nashville citizens accepted Dickinson’s tragic death with Judge Overton’s complacency. The unfortunate victim of the duel had some warm and influential friends in Nashville; and they spent their days and nights industriously giving circulation to an account of the duel which placed Jackson in the worst possible light. His popularity suffered accordingly. Then close on the heels of this tragedy came the embroglio with Aaron Burr into which he had permitted himself to become innocently entangled. Jackson’s popularity in Tennessee was never at a lower ebb—and he was not a man to regard such a state of affairs with resignation. On top of all this, he was worried about his financial affairs, and it is easy to understand how he might have been attracted by the idea of starting life over again in a new location—and with a government job carrying a comfortable salary.

Mississippi was a new country, the government of which was just being organized, and Jackson wrote to Jenkyn Whitesides, United States Senator from Tennessee, regarding the possibility of receiving a federal appointment as judge in the new territory. “From my pursuits for several years past,” he wrote in February, 1810, “from many unpleasant occurrences that took place during that time, it has given my mind such a turn of thought that I have labored to get clear of. I have found this impossible, and unless some new pursuit to employ my mind and thoughts, I find it impossible to divest myself of those habits of gloomy and peevish reflections that the wanton and flagitious conduct and unmerited reflections of base calumny heaped upon me has given rise to.” It had occurred to him, he said, that new scenes might serve to relieve him from this unpleasant tone of thought, and he was therefore serving notice that he would accept the judgeship if it were offered him. As a further reason for his dissatisfaction he cited the “lethargy and temporizing conduct” of the government, and he expressed the fear that “as a military man I shall have no amusement or business, and indolence and inaction would shortly destroy me.”

One of Mrs. Jackson’s nephews in Natchez, Donelson Caffery, heard of his uncle’s plan to sell the Hermitage home place and remove to Mississippi, and he hastily wrote to dissuade him. “You have nearly got through all your embarrassments,” wrote young Caffery, “You have a delightful farm, from the products of which you will at least be able to live comfortably; by the respectable and well-informed part of the country you are highly esteemed; you are able to select a good society from your neighborhood.” And, concluding in a burst of eloquence: “You have been able there to read the characters of men in their actions; here another volume will be presented to your view in which human baseness will take up a considerable part.”

Jackson persisted, however, in his effort to sell the Hermitage, offering it among others to Colonel Wade Hampton of South Carolina, who later served on his staff at New Orleans. Colonel Hampton made a trip to Tennessee and looked the property over but did not buy it, although he wrote: “I am vastly partial to your elegant seat and fine tract of land.”

Perhaps the advice of young Caffery and his other friends persuaded him not to make the prospective changes; perhaps he was not able to get the desired appointment. At any rate, fortunately for Tennessee and for the country, Jackson remained at the Hermitage and was soon thereafter relieved of his melancholic frame of mind by the declaration of war against Great Britain in 1812. From then on until 1821 he found plenty of “amusement and business” in fighting the Indians and the British and the Spaniards in Florida; and for eight years he had no further cause for complaint on the score of indolence and inaction. He returned to the Hermitage the nation’s idol, and all thoughts of moving to Mississippi or anywhere else were permanently dismissed.

When Jackson moved to the Hermitage tract from Hunter’s Hill his financial condition did not permit of his building immediately another such home as he had left. But Jackson had the primitive virtue of cutting his suit to fit his cloth; and so he set himself up in a comfortable but crude establishment made up of a group of log houses—a large central building, two stories high, which constituted the principal living quarters, with three adjacent log houses which were used as sleeping quarters for guests or members of the family. The main building, which, according to tradition, had in earlier days been used as a block house for defense against the Indians, was 24 by 26 feet and on the first floor had only one large room, with a huge fireplace. At the back was a lean-to containing two rooms, a pantry and a bed-room. This big room on the first floor was a combination of parlor, living room, dining room and kitchen, with all the meals cooked at the big open fireplace. Here Jackson lived for fifteen years—fifteen of the most active years of his life, years when he was carving his name as one of the really big men of the young United States.

Here in this log house he entertained some of the most distinguished visitors who ever came to the Nashville settlements—President James Monroe and Aaron Burr, among others; here it was they brought him, well-nigh fatally wounded, from his duel with Charles Dickinson; and it was to this rude abode that he returned in 1815, following the Battle of New Orleans, with the plaudits of the world ringing in his ears. Also, it was while he was living here in the log Hermitage that he conducted his famous campaigns against the Indians, including his celebrated invasion of Florida which so nearly involved us in war with Spain.

Today there is still standing only one of the small log cabins of the original group. Alongside it is a larger log house, with a steeply sloping roof, built at a later date out of the logs taken from the original two-storied log house which had been permitted to fall into decay. These are located in the meadow a few hundred yards to the rear of the present Hermitage, on the original site, and are in a fair state of preservation. Although the original two-storied house no longer stands, the remains of its stone foundation are still faintly to be seen.

But by 1819 Andrew Jackson—in personal taste, in fame and in social position—had outgrown the log-house mode of living. He had become a man of national, even international, distinction; he had been to Washington, to Philadelphia, New York and New Orleans. He knew how distinguished men were supposed to live. And so there gradually grew in his mind the determination to build a new home, one that would befit his present station in life and one that would permit Rachel to entertain with pride the grandest ladies of the land. Fortunately for his plans, there was a boom market in cotton from 1815 to 1818, following the treaty of peace with England, and the cotton planters of the South had three fat years. With cotton at 34c a pound, many of them waxed wealthy; and although there was a slump in 1819, it appears that Jackson must have been making financial hay while the sun was shining, for it was at this time that he started work on his new house.

The source from which Jackson got the name “The Hermitage” remains more or less of a mystery. The plantation was known by this name before he built a house on it; but nothing in his letters or papers reveals the reason why it was so-called. There is a tradition in the Donelson family that it was named in honor of the old Donelson home-place in Virginia; but this theory has no firmer foundation than tradition—it may be true, but there is no authentic substantiation of it. There is a theory (although it is nothing more than a theory) that he borrowed the name from Jeremy Bentham’s estate in England. Students of Jackson’s political beliefs feel that he was strongly influenced by the great English philosopher and jurist, whose home was called the Hermitage. He read Bentham’s works and corresponded with him; it is not unlikely that when it came to selecting a name for his new plantation he thought of Bentham’s home, the Hermitage, and adopted the name for his own use.

Front view of the house from dividing point in the entrance driveway.

Close-up view of the façade.

II: ORIGINAL BUILDING, FIRE AND REBUILDING

The Hermitage today is identically as it was when Andrew Jackson died in 1845. Nothing has been added to it; nothing has been taken away. But as it stands now, and as it stood in 1845, it is much more elaborate architecturally than the original house built in 1819. Additions were made to the first building in 1831, and some further elaboration was done in 1834 when the house was reconstructed after being damaged by fire. The fire at that time only partially destroyed the house; it did not seriously injure the stone foundations and the stout brick walls, and these are today practically the same as when they were built in 1819, except that to cover up the smoke stains the front wall was painted white—an idea perhaps borrowed from the painting of the White House in Washington in 1816 to conceal the evidence of its having been burned by the British.

Parton, who had the advantage of talking with Jackson’s contemporaries, is authority for the statement that the Hermitage was built in 1819, the work on it beginning in the summer of that year when the General had returned from the Seminole war in such bad health that he was doubtful whether he would live long. Parton says:

“Major Lewis tells me that he rode out to the Hermitage one day soon after General Jackson began to get about after his severe illness. With slow and faltering steps, leaning heavily on his stick, the General took him to the site selected for the new residence—a very level spot in a large flat field, near the old block-house. Major Lewis recommended another site slightly elevated above the almost prarie-like level of the farm. ‘No, Major,’ said the General, ‘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.’ And there the house was built.”

That Mrs. Jackson had designated the spot where the house should stand was recalled by the General again in 1834 after the fire when it was suggested to him that it might be rebuilt in another location. Then he wrote to his adopted son: “Was it not on the site selected by my dear departed wife I would build it higher up the hill;” but the fact that Rachel had originally selected it definitely settled in his mind any question as to whether the location of the house should be changed.

In the interest of strict accuracy it should be pointed out that the ground where the house stands is not quite so prairie-like level as Parton describes it. On the contrary, it is on the side of a gently sloping hill. The floor of the front portico is but one step off the ground, whereas a flight of several steps is needed to reach the back porch; and there is a quite perceptible rise of ground between the entrance gate and the house.

Detailed and reliable information about the actual construction of the original Hermitage on this site is peculiarly scarce. In all the published Jackson correspondence there is but one reference to the building operations, this being unfortunately without date and merely referring to some difficulties encountered in having the house painted. In a footnote in the published “Correspondence of Andrew Jackson” Doctor Bassett mentions having seen a receipted bill dated June 12, 1818, for $200 for china and silver plate. Doctor Bassett says that it seems fair to assume that this indicates an outlay for the new house, although this is manifestly nothing more than speculation on his part. Most of what we know today about the circumstances attending the construction of the original building is mere surmise, based on inferences and deductions. Jackson was a prolific letter writer; but for some strange reason he seems to have written little or nothing about the building of his new home. Also, unfortunately, there is no information available as to the identity of the original contractor or architect—if there was one.

It has been stated in published articles that the Hermitage was built by an architect named Joseph Reiff; but the only foundation for this seems to lie in the fact that he was the man in charge of the rebuilding after the fire. Mr. Reiff, by the way, did not pose as an architect at all. In the articles of agreement covering the rebuilding he refers to himself simply as a carpenter; and it seems likely that he was one of the class of men known in that time as “journeyman builders”—practical carpenters who went about the country equipped with books of plans of basic architectural designs which they adapted to the needs of their clients. But, regardless of what was his correct technical designation, there is nothing whatever to connect Mr. Reiff with the original building operation in 1819.

Bearing in mind the custom of the times, it is most probable that the house was designed by Jackson himself and the actual construction work done by skilled slave labor, perhaps under the direction of some master builder. The design of the original Hermitage was severely simple and had little about it to suggest that its plans were drawn by a professional architect. It was not at all beyond the capacity of General Jackson. The foundation was of native limestone, quarried on the farm by slaves. The poplar structural lumber and timbers, and the wide red cedar boards for the porch floors, were cut nearby from local timber. The walls were built of brick, burned on the place as was the practice in those days. Brick making was still primitive in its processes. A bed of clay was located, the top soil was removed and lime sprinkled on the clay, and then a black boy on a mule had a good time treading the lime into the clay and thus preparing the raw material for the bricks, which were shaped in hand molds and baked in improvised kilns.

By combining all the available information, it appears certain that the original Hermitage was a simple two-storied, square brick building consisting of four rooms and a hall downstairs and the same arrangement upstairs. There was originally no portico at the back or front, nor did the two wings then grace its sides. It was just a square brick house, with no embellishments or architectural pretensions. From references in letters it seems that, as was common practice at the time, the house and its immediate yard were enclosed in a picket fence, and there is substantiation of this in one of the early prints of the Hermitage, but there are no signs of such a fence today.

It was in this plain house that Jackson and Rachel lived for ten happy years. He was not away from home much in those days. He was elected to the Senate in 1823, but he soon resigned that office. While he was in Washington, chafing under the time-wasting deliberations of Congress, he wrote to John Coffee: “How often does my thoughts lead me back to the Hermitage. There in private life, surrounded by a few friends, would be a paradise compared to the best situation here; and if once more there it would take a writ of habeas corpus to remove me into public life again.” And he was sincere when he wrote that.

In 1831, after he had been inaugurated President, and while he was living in the White House, General Jackson contracted to have the Hermitage enlarged and elaborated in keeping with the increased prestige of its master. Andrew, junior, had just married, too, and the President probably wished to have the house improved for the benefit of his new daughter-in-law, of whom he was very fond. Accordingly, arrangements were made for the addition of the two wings—that containing the dining-room and pantry on the western side and the one embracing the library, or office, the side entrance and the overseer’s room on the garden side of the house. It was at this time also that front and back porticos were added; although, according to engravings made at the time, the front portico was not then two stories high. It merely extended across the front of the lower floor, with its roof below the level of the upstairs windows, except at the front door where it was two stories high with a pediment at the top. The contemporary pictures also show the wings with gables at the front and back, instead of with flat roofs as at present. This remodeling work was done by a contractor named D. Morrison, who had just finished building the stone tomb over Mrs. Jackson’s grave in the garden.

Mr. Morrison wrote to President Jackson on December 6, 1831, announcing the completion of the work on the house and giving some interesting details about the job. In this letter he said:

“The additions and improvements are completed. In addition to the improvements as exhibited in the plan I showed you, I have erected a neat and appropriate portico on the back side of the central building which adds very much to the comfort and convenience of your dwelling. The Hermitage as improved presents a front of 104 feet. The wings project 9 feet in front of the central building and are connected by a collonade of the same breadth. The collonade consists of 10 lofty columns of the Doric order, the entablature carried through the whole line of front, and has wreaths of laurel leaves in the frieze. The upper story consists of a portico surmounted by a pediment which breaks the monotony of the composition in a very satisfactory manner. The materials employed in the improvements are all of the best quality the neighborhood affords. The colonnade is covered with the best copper, the sheets weighing from 12 to 14 pounds each sheet, and the gutters that convey the water from front to back are also of copper. The wing buildings and porticos are roofed with good cedar shingles. The dining room is large and will dine 100 persons at one time comfortably. The wing at the east end contains the library, a large and commodious room; an overseer’s room; and a covered way that protects the three doors leading to the library, overseer’s room and to the back parlor. The old kitchen is removed and the materials employed in the erection of a large and commodious smoke-house which is placed on a line with the new kitchen.”

The reference to the kitchen in Mr. Morrison’s letter, by the way, seems definitely to establish the fact that the present kitchen and smokehouse were built in 1831 and were not parts of the original establishment as built in 1819, as was for a long time supposed. Exactly where the old kitchen stood is not revealed in any records now available; but just to the east of the present kitchen there may be seen in the grass the outlines of a stone foundation which probably indicates its former location.

The total cost of the improvements made at this time was $2,488.50, not including $131.00 paid out at the same time for papering and painting the whole house. The itemized list of expenses was as follows:

General Coffee, Jackson’s old friend and fellow veteran of the Battle of New Orleans and the Indian wars, drove over to the Hermitage from time to time while the remodeling work was in progress and kept an eye on it. On April 28, 1831, he wrote the President at Washington: “Your mechanics were at work on the improvements making on the mansion house. I took the liberty of suggesting some immaterial alterations in the addition, which was approved of by the projector of the building, who said he would consult you about it.” This alteration in the plan, it is revealed in one of Mr. Morrison’s letters to President Jackson, consisted in extending the eastern or library wing back twenty feet further than called for in the original plan, the additional space thus gained being used for the covered passage and overseer’s room. This overseer’s room, also called the steward’s room, was in later years used as the nursery for the children of Andrew, junior, and later the covered passage was bricked in and the side entrance hall thus created as it is today.

Accurate and dependable pictures of the brick Hermitage as it appeared in 1819 are singularly scarce, and the few available efforts at its picturization differ considerably in appearance.

In one of Earl’s early portraits of General Jackson the General is shown standing on a slight eminence, with the Hermitage at a distance in the background. This picture of the house, a veritable portrait from life, is doubtless a trustworthy representation of the original brick house; and there is presented herewith a reproduction of this picture, obtained by successive enlargements of the background of the Earl portrait. It ought to give a reliable idea of the appearance of the place before the wings were added.

Similar in appearance is an undated engraving (“Drawn and engraved by H. B. Hall”) which was reproduced in Bassett’s Life of Andrew Jackson and also in Marquis James’ Border Captain. Presumably this was drawn by Mr. Hall on the spot, as it is quite similar to the Earl picture showing the gabled roof and double chimneys at each side of the house.

The most amusing and least accurate of all the available pictures of the early Hermitage is to be found in The Jackson Wreath, or National Souvenir, a laudatory book about Jackson, the President elect, published in Philadelphia in January, 1829. In this book is an attractive engraving of a suspiciously conventional house which bears the descriptive entitlement: “The Hermitage;” but faith in the accuracy of the picture is shaken by a naive footnote (in microscopic type) which says with engaging candor: “On the commencement of this work, proper steps were taken to procure a drawing of the Hermitage from the spot, by addressing a prominent establishment at Nashville; whether the several requests were ever received by them is not known, but the drawing never came to hand here. A gentleman at Washington, intimate with the grounds, politely furnished a description from which a drawing was made. Anyone who is acquainted with the difficulty of producing a correct drawing from description will overlook any difference that may appear in the likeness to the place it is intended to represent.”

This imaginative engraving shows a square house, with the gable end in front, and with two single chimneys—one at the left and one in the rear. There is also a neat little portico at the front door, and an out-house close by the left-hand side of the house. Despite its confessed inaccuracy it was obviously the source of at least two other popular engravings of that day which reproduced with fidelity its improperly placed gable and chimneys; and even as late as 1855 as reliable a monthly magazine as Harper’s illustrated an article about Jackson with an alleged picture of the Hermitage which was plainly but a copy of the engraving in the “Jackson Wreath” with merely a few slight changes in the arrangement of the conventionalized trees and horses in the foreground.

Fortunately there is preserved a contemporaneous picture, reproduced in this book, which is generally accepted as a fairly accurate representation of the house as it appeared after the wings were added and before the fire. After the fire the front portico was rebuilt two stories high all the way across; and the six large columns as now seen replaced the smaller posts formerly used. This picture, judging from the location of the tomb so close to the house, is not free from the imaginative latitude the artists sometimes allow themselves; but it is said to give a good idea of the way the house looked before the fire.

In October, 1834, occurred the burning of the Hermitage, an event that attracted widespread attention. Jackson was at that time at the White House in Washington, but his adopted son and his wife were occupying the Hermitage.

An account of the fire in a Nashville newspaper of October 14th announced the event in the following words: “Yesterday evening about 4 o’clock the roof of the Hermitage was discovered to be on fire, and all attempts to arrest the progress of the flames proving unavailing, the entire edifice with the exception of the room attached to the northern end and used as a dining room was in a few hours consumed. The valuable furniture in the lower story was fortunately saved, though much broken and otherwise injured in getting it out. That in the second story, we understand, was chiefly destroyed. The fire is supposed to have been communicated to the roof by the falling of a spark from one of the chimneys, and there being at the time a light breeze from the northwest the progress of the flames was proportionately rapid. The numerous and valuable private papers of the President were probably all preserved. We need not add that the event has occasioned to this community deep and universal regret.”

The dignified simplicity of the Hermitage’s front door was typical of the Southern plantation houses of the early nineteenth century. Throughout Old Hickory’s lifetime this door was ever open to a stream of visitors from all walks of life, and all sure of a cordial welcome.

Rear view of the house, showing one of the original old maple trees.

An old print showing General Jackson’s greeting of Marquis Lafayette in the library of the Hermitage.

One of the original slave cabins. Occupied by Uncle Alfred until the time of his death.

President Jackson was promptly advised of the fire in letters from his adopted son; from Stockley Donelson, his nephew; and from Colonel Robert Armstrong, postmaster at Nashville and one of Jackson’s strongest personal and political friends.

Stockley Donelson thus explained the origin of the fire: “A fire was kindled in the old dining room and the chimney caught on fire, which not being observed immediately and the wind being from the northwest, the fire was communicated to the roof. The flame however had not spread very far before it was discovered by Squire and Charles and the alarm given. Cousin Sarah was at this moment in the house having just returned from a short ride and Andrew was in the field, but a short distance from the house. The fire was soon discovered by Wm. Donelson’s hands who were working near at hand, by A. J. Donelson’s workmen and hands, as well as by your own hands. They were all on the ground before the roof fell in, etc. Mr. Rife by his own exertions succeeded in getting on the dining room roof and extinguishing the flames, etc. Others were employed in getting out the furniture, etc., which was nearly all saved except some bedsteads upstairs. I have made inquiry. I interrogated Mr. Rife and Mr. Hume who were upstairs and in the old dining room where the fire was kindled first and they both say it was not an unreasonable large fire. The weather was very dry and windy. When the fire was first discovered by Charles and Squire they made every effort to get a ladder, but none could be found, and there was no other way to get to the roof, etc. Cousin Sarah acted with firmness and gave every necessary direction to save the furniture; and her and Andrew, though much hurt, I am happy to add bear the misfortune with fortitude.” Mr. Donelson went on to say that the walls of the house “being originally well built are not much damaged” and that there would be no difficulty in rebuilding.

Colonel Armstrong in his letter was careful to say that in his opinion the fire was “purely accidental;” and he estimated that the house could be rebuilt on the old site for $2,000 or $2,500. He recommended rebuilding on the old site (“for I know the walls and foundation were good”), and volunteered to be of any possible assistance.

The news of the burning of his home must have been a crushing blow when it reached President Jackson in the White House. Following the particularly turbulent session of Congress which ended in June, 1834, the weary President had gone back to the Hermitage and spent the summer there in the pleasant process of recuperating from the debilitating effect of his long drawn out battle over the bank. All of the administration’s domestic problems were settled, in one way or another; and he spent the summer in riding about over the Hermitage plantation, visiting his friends and neighbors, and entertaining the customary flow of guests. Early in October he brought his vacation to an end and started on his return to Washington; and he had hardly arrived back at the White House before the letters reached him telling of the fire.

But Jackson accepted this blow of Fate with resignation and equanimity. His letter to Andrew, junior, is a model of calm fortitude under a sudden stroke of adversity:

“Dear Andrew: I have this moment received your letter of the 13th instant giving an account of the unfortunate occurrence of the burning of my dwelling. As no neglect is imputed to anyone and as it appears one of those accidental occurrences where there is no blame to attach to any one, we ought and I do meet it as an act of Providence and always reconciled to His will and prepared to say at all times and under all circumstances ‘The Lord’s will be done,’ it was He that gave me the means to build it and He has the right to destroy it, and blessed be his name. Tell Sarah to cease to mourn its loss. I will have it rebuilt. Was it not on the site selected by my dear departed wife I would build it higher up the hill, but I will have it repaired. You say the walls are uninjured. Let workmen be employed forthwith to repair it. Let scantling and brick be got and have it covered in before the hard frost with rain injures the walls. If tin can be got in Nashville have a tin roof put on it. If the walls can be repaired and the house covered in before winter the windows can be so closed as to prevent the walls or scantling within from being injured. I write to Col. Armstrong, whose letter is before me, who will aid you in obtaining materials and workmen to cover in and repair the house. I write in haste. Say to Sarah not to grieve or repine about the loss. We will have it all repaired. I write to Mr. Toland this evening to send on by the ship Chandler Price via New Orleans as much tin as will cover a house 80 feet by 44 and hope it will reach you in due time. This will enable you to borrow the tin in Nashville from anyone who has it. I suppose all the wines in the cellar has been destroyed, with Mrs. Donelson’s box of China. Give me as accurate an account of the loss of furniture as you can at as early a period as possible. In all your bustle and improvement, my son, have your cotton picked out and housed. It becomes us now to act with economy and use industry to repair and regain the loss. Therefore, as the only fund to aid in paying for the land and repairing the building and other engagements are the cotton crop, I urge you to have it carefully taken in, ginned, baled and sent to market.” As soon as the news of the fire became known throughout the country there was set on foot in New Orleans a movement to rebuild the Hermitage by popular subscription; and a Nashville citizen, George C. Childress, wrote to Jackson to ask him if such an action would be agreeable to him.

“We see from the New Orleans papers,” wrote Mr. Childress, “that a proposition is made in that city to raise a fund to rebuild the mansion house at the Hermitage, every individual in the United States who may choose to contribute fifty cents and no more in order that it may be in the power of every man who may wish to join in tendering to you this complimentary mark of public gratitude and contributing to the repair and preservation of a residence which is almost looked upon as National property. There is no doubt that an ample fund would be raised in this manner to rebuild the house in the most elegant manner and I write, sir, to know if it would be agreeable to you to accept this complimentary token of gratitude at the hands of your admiring countrymen.”

This letter is found in Jackson’s correspondence file, and on the back of it is endorsed in the General’s firm handwriting: “Mr. Childress to be answered: I respect as I ought the feelings that dictated the generous feeling in the proposition, but can not accept the boon. I am able to rebuild it, and hope whatever generosity the good people of New Orleans intended to bestow on me as a memento of their regard for my public services may be applied to some charitable institution.”

Nothing more clearly reflects Jackson’s unquenchable spirit than the prompt and effective manner in which he set about arranging for the rebuilding of his home. His genius for organization—his talent for getting things done, even at a long distance from the scene of activity—here plainly manifested itself. “Let workmen be employed forthwith to repair it,” he wrote Andrew; and then he sat down and wrote to his friend, Colonel Armstrong, asking him to get in behind the making of a contract for the rebuilding. Apparently Colonel Armstrong called into consultation another of Jackson’s friends, Colonel Chas. J. Love, for in January, 1835, Colonel Love wrote to the President that “a contract has been made with Messrs. Rife and Hume for the rebuilding of the house at the Hermitage. Every care has been taken to have the contract made so full and plain that it can not be misunderstood. The materials are to be good and the work executed in the best possible style. Mr. Hume is now up the country to make engagements for the lumber that it may got down in time to have it well seasoned before the work is put together—then Colonel and myself will keep a strict lookout that the work is done agreeable to contract. Colonel Armstrong and myself understand the contract so well that it can not be misunderstood. It was talked over and over again and agreed on not only in writing but verbally, and all the alterations are to be made agreeable to our view of them. The house is large and we got the best bargain we could.”

The “Rife and Hume” referred to in Colonel Love’s letter were Joseph Reiff and William C. Hume, the carpenter-contractors who were then employed in constructing the handsome home which General Jackson was having built near by, on the Tulip Grove Farm, for his wife’s nephew, Andrew Jackson Donelson. Messrs. Reiff and Hume are mentioned in Stockley Donelson’s letter telling the news of the fire as having been in the Hermitage at the time it started, and it is not improbable that they were living there while the new house at Tulip Grove was being built. It would have been characteristic of General Jackson to offer them the hospitality of his home while they were engaged in the nearby work.

The agreement for the rebuilding of the Hermitage was specifically made out in the name of Andrew Jackson, junior, in deference to the General’s strong desire to have Andrew assume a man’s responsibility in the management of the estate; but the fine Italian hands of Colonel Armstrong and Colonel Love are to be seen in the careful phraseology of the document and the prudent safeguards thrown about the carpenters’ performance. “Col. Armstrong and myself understand the contract,” wrote Colonel Love; and the published correspondence reveals how faithfully Colonel Armstrong kept in behind the matter, watching all the details of building and furnishing, and carrying the whole thing through to completion.

The rebuilding agreement provides an interesting reflection of the manner in which such activities were carried on a hundred years ago, and as such is worth reproducing in full:

January 1, 1835.

Memorandum of agreement made and concluded upon this first day of January, 1835, between Joseph Reiff and William C. Hume of the one part and Andrew Jackson, Jr., of the other part, all of the County of Davidson and State of Tennessee.

Article 1st. The said Reiff and Hume, (carpenters), have undertaken to rebuild the Hermitage house and east wing of said house, to do all the carpenters’ work of said house, and to find and furnish all the lumber, plank, scantling, and nails, brads, sprigs, hinges, bolts and in fact everything required to rebuild the same, except the glass, locks and copper. The lumber, flooring, etc., etc., to be done of the best quality and all well seasoned. The carpenters’ work to be done in the best and most approved and workmanlike manner, for which the said Andrew Jackson, Jr., agrees to pay the said Reiff and Hume in cash the sum of $3,950, as the work progresses.

Article 2nd. The house to be rebuilt in the same order that it was before, with four rooms and passage below and four rooms and passage above. The garret rooms and the stairs from the garret to the walk on the top of the house to be finished in a plain way. The walk on the house to be the same mentioned in the plan and finished with a neat and appropriate banister or railing. The joists in all the different rooms to be bridged.

Article 3rd. Here follows an estimate of work and cost, and in case any of it should not be done or should be abandoned a deduction is to be made from the aforesaid sum of $3,800:

Bill of Carpenter’s Work
2 cellar doors and frames, at $3 each	$ 6.00
40 lintels for doors and windows at 25c	10.00
Framing 76 sqr joists at 75c per square	57.00
830 feet of washboards at 11c per foot	85.00
53½ sqr of poplar flooring at $2.50 per square	133.75
8 chimney pieces at $10 each	80.00
13 doors, cased with pilasters, at $12	156.00
2 large folding doors, 10 or 12 feet, at $30	60.00
2 front doors at $30	60.00
8 windows, recessed pilasters to casing, at $10	80.00
9 ” not recessed, at $6	54.00
17 double boxed window frames at $4.50	76.50
17 pair of Venetian shutters at $6	102.00
408 lights of sash, 10×14 glass, at 10c	40.80
4 garret windows complete at $8	32.00
32 sqr of framing, sheeting and shingling at $2.50	80.00
128 feet of cornice, at $1	128.00
50 feet of verge boards, 12½c	6.25
Framing and laying open floor and ceiling and hand-rail and balustrading walk on house, 60×12 or 14 feet	140.00
Trap door, steps in garret and skylight	15.00
1 circular staircase, two stories high	260.00
1 private staircase	30.00
4 presses at $12	48.00
First story of front porch with 6 columns, etc.	256.00
Second ” ” ”	75.00
One back portico	40.00
Work on Wing
Framing 22 sqr of joists at 75c	16.50
” 15 sqr of shingling at $2.50	37.50
Laying 10 sqr of poplar flooring at $2.50	25.00
180 feet of washboard at 10c	18.00
2 chimney pieces at $10	20.00
3 doors cased with pilasters at $12	36.00
4 18-light windows with shutters at $16.50	66.00
1 Venetian window	16.00
100 feet of cornice at 50c	50.00
	$2,396.30
Add one-fourth for boarding	599.07
	$2,995.37
See estimate of lumber	804.63
	$3,800.00
Add for pulleys, weights, cord, hinges and screws	150.00
	$3,950.00

Article 4th. The main stairs to be circular, or geometrical, the work to be done in the best and most approved style. A private staircase from the room below called the steward’s room to the chambers above, a folding door in the rooms north as you enter the passage below, a door from the room to the President’s office, with a small passage spoken of by the said Andrew not yet determined on. The front and back porch to be finished as before, the columns of the former to be fluted and the cornice and so forth to correspond with the estimate annexed. The east wing, office, steward’s room and passage to the garden to be finished on the former plan. The said Andrew furnishing locks for the building, using such of the old ones as will answer for the upper story and furnishing new ones for the lower, Reiff and Hume putting on all the locks.

Article 5th. The said Reiff and Hume agree to take and put into the second story any of the old work saved that may be thought to serve to answer and pay the value of the same. They also agree to take all the lumber, plank, etc., that the said Andrew has now on hand as cash paid in part of his contract.

Article 6th. It is hereby understood that the said Reiff and Hume bind themselves to make a complete finish of the carpenters’ work of the said building, pay all expenses of turning, using cedar timber where it is necessary, the contract to be fulfilled agreeable to the plan given, and to the express understanding made and agreed upon in the presence of Col. Love and Robert Armstrong.

Article 7th. The dimensions of the rooms, the size of the windows, and a minute description of work to be done is not mentioned in this article, but it is understood by the parties in the presence of the above named gentlemen.

Article 8th. It is agreed upon that when the lumber, plank, etc., is delivered the said Andrew will furnish the money to pay for the same and will continue to make payment as the work progresses.

Article 9th. The said Reiff and Hume are to purchase the lumber and commence the work immediately, and further agree that the carpenters’ work shall be so forwarded as to let the plasterers in to commence their job by the first or middle of September next, so that the house can be completely finished by 25 December, 1835.

As no contract has been made for the painting, the said Andrew will have the priming done as fast as the work goes on.

It is understood that there is to be the same number of large fluted columns in front as formerly if thought necessary, and it is further understood that the said Reiff and Hume will do all and everything in relation to the carpenters’ work of said building as though every item had been separately specified, making a complete finish of the carpenters’ and joiners’ work of said building, finding everything except the articles of locks and glass heretofore mentioned.

In witness we have hereunto set our hands and seals this 1st of January, 1835.

Joseph Reiff William C. Hume

Uncle Alfred, who served Old Hickory during his lifetime and now sleeps near his side in the Hermitage garden.

Sunday morning at the Hermitage Church in the early forties. General Jackson has just dismounted from his saddlehorse tied to the tree in the right foreground, which tree is still standing. (From an old print.)

The work was got under way at once, but the building was not declared completed until the summer of 1836—more than eighteen months after the reconstruction was started. “Hands can not be got,” Colonel Armstrong wrote Jackson during the summer of 1835, “still we are doing the best we can.” It was the era of inflation and easy money, and labor was scarce. So the work dragged along; and, as is not unusual in building operations, the cost of the finished job considerably exceeded the original estimate. Colonel Armstrong in his first letter expressed the opinion that the work could be done for $2,000 or $2,500; in a later letter he said “$2,500 or $3,000 will complete the whole work”; the contract with Reiff and Hume was at a figure of $3,950; and when the final settlement was made the total was $5,125—not including $900 for plastering and $400 for painting. To add to the General’s troubles at this time came a calamitous failure of the cotton crop and he wrote sadly to Andrew about the necessity for economizing. “Unless the farm produces enough to pay its own expenses, my means here will be fully exhausted in paying for the finishing of the house and restoring to it the furniture destroyed.”

There were a few minor changes in the plans as the work progressed including one suggested by Major William B. Lewis, Jackson’s closest political friend, who expressed the view that “the stories of the house should be made higher.” Colonel Armstrong wrote: “I think it would be an improvement and add very much to the appearance of the house.” On this subject General Jackson wrote to Andrew: “I would be satisfied to see it restored to what it was before it burnt, but as I know I shall not be long on earth to enjoy its comforts in retirement, I enclose his letter on this point to you that you may exercise your own discretion.” Major Lewis carried his point; the stories were made higher. Also during the course of the work, at the suggestion of the helpful Major, some changes were made in the size and arrangement of the windows. The new windows, he wrote Jackson, “are of very pretty size and proportions, and will look much better than the old ones.” He added that in his opinion the house as rebuilt would be a great improvement over the old one, both in interior arrangement and exterior appearance.

At last, on August 2, 1836, Colonel Armstrong rendered to General Jackson a final statement of the expense of rebuilding:

Estimate of bills of the Hermitage House, with the amount paid and balances due 1 June:

For amount of Reiff and Hume bill per agreement contract			$3,950
For extra work done upon change of plan			239
For work done on west wing and new kitchen, finding everything			186
For the full-length two-story porch added, finding everything			750
			$5,125
To cash paid Reiff and Hume at sundry times		$2,285
ditto paid 25 April		1,000
ditto paid by A Jackson in work		513
ditto paid June 24		500	$4,298
			$ 827
For Amt bill Higgins plastering		$900
To cash paid Higgins in part	$500
ditto ditto June 24	225	725	175
For Amt bill of painting, paints, oils, etc.		$400
To cash paid Horn and Wells (Horn 100)	$188
do paid Horn	50
do paid Wells	25	263	137
Do paid Horn 2nd of August 1836 pd by A. J. jr.			85
			$ 52

“The house is well built and convenient and in appearance greatly improved upon the old one,” Colonel Armstrong wrote Jackson upon its completion; and so the old General found it when he returned to the Hermitage in June, 1836.

When the fire occurred Andrew, junior, and his family went to live temporarily at the nearby Hunter’s Hill place, but later took a house in Nashville. In November, 1834, Mrs. Jackson and the children went to Washington to spend the winter in the White House, with interspersed trips to Philadelphia to visit her family and buy furniture for the Hermitage, but Andrew stayed in Nashville to look after the rebuilding work. He joined Sarah and the children for a vacation with the President at the Rip Raps in July and August, 1835, but he came back to Nashville in September.

III: RESCUE AND RESTORATION

Those who believe in special dispensations of Fate affecting human affairs must feel that there has ever been watching over the Hermitage some kindly guardian angel to protect it from the wasting touch of time and especially to frustrate the numerous and varied efforts that have been made to utilize it for some purpose which would have made it impossible to maintain it as a national shrine for patriotic Americans.

Andrew Jackson had been dead hardly ten years before it was proposed to convert his old home into a military school. Immediately following the War Between the States, during the Reconstruction period, it was suggested that it would be an ideal location for a home for Federal soldiers. Later it was selected as the proper place for a Confederate veterans’ home. Then some misguided persons wanted to establish a reform school and penal farm there. Still later a movement was started to convert the plantation into a model farm for educational purposes. These were but a few of the plans advanced for making use of the Hermitage; but in every instance a benevolent Providence intervened and helped to preserve it as simply the home of the patriotic old pioneer Tennessean whose burning love for his country transcended every other emotion.

When General Jackson died in 1845 he left the entire Hermitage estate to his adopted son, Andrew Jackson, junior. When the old General made his last will in 1843 one of his closest friends, Major W. B. Lewis, who felt no restraint in volunteering his advice, offered the suggestion that for the protection of the interests of the adopted son’s wife and children it might be advisable to leave a part of the estate to them in some such way as to insure their continued comfort and security “in case his son’s speculations should continue to be unsuccessful.” But Jackson’s sense of loyalty to his adopted son was so great that he refused to entertain this suggestion. “No,” he said firmly, “that would show a lack of confidence in Andrew;” and, pointing to his wife’s tomb in the garden, he continued: “If she were alive she would wish him to have it, and to me her wish is law.” But the General’s loyalty did not exceed his frankness, and in the preamble of his will he sets forth the lamentable fact that “my estate has become greatly involved by my liabilities for the debts of my well-beloved and adopted son, Andrew Jackson, Jun.”

The exact condition of Jackson’s estate at the time of his death was set forth in detail in a communication from a Nashville citizen which was printed in a daily paper in 1889: “At the death of General Jackson he owed but two debts of any magnitude, one of them $15,000 to Frank Blair of Washington, the other to General Planchin of New Orleans. His estate consisted of the Hermitage, then containing about 1,200 acres, on which he had about 100 negroes besides stock of all kinds. Besides this he owned his plantation in Mississippi which the adopted son and heir afterward sold with the negroes then on it for $40,000. This left the Hermitage, with the negroes and all else on it, clear and free after paying the $21,000 of debt, with a surplus of $19,000 in cash. So, to sum it all up, the estate at the General’s death was worth, clear of debt, somewhere near $150,000. This was well known by those near him and was generally believed by the community. It has been repeatedly stated by his opponents that the General was deep in debt when he died in 1845, if not insolvent. This is a great mistake, as I have endeavored to show from the facts here given, which are from my own knowledge received from my intimate business relations with the adopted son and heir, Andrew Jackson, Jr.”

Andrew Jackson, junior, in retrospect presents rather a pathetic picture. As the President’s adopted son he had every opportunity before him; but apparently the germ of success was simply not in him. General Jackson lavished affection and attention on him throughout his childhood and youth, and a real son could not have been reared more tenderly. “I have no doubt he will take care of us both in our declining years,” the General wrote Rachel in 1813. And in 1832 he wrote an old friend that “Andrew is now married and I mean to throw the care of the farm on him. I shall never more pester myself with this world’s wealth.” But, somehow or other, something always seemed to be going wrong with the things to which Andrew gave his attention. All accounts agree in describing him as exceptionally amiable and engaging in his personality; he was well educated, being a graduate of the old University of Nashville; he was charming socially; he was beloved and venerated by his family—but he seemed unable to develop the rugged aggressiveness and forcefulness of his illustrious namesake, and gradually the estate bequeathed him by General Jackson slipped between his fingers. Cholera took off 26 of his slaves in one year; another year there was a calamitous crop failure; ill-advised kindness led him to endorse friends’ notes—with the usual result; and an unwise business venture cost him the $15,000 he had invested in it.

An estate of $150,000 was a notably large bequest back in 1845; but by 1853 the heir’s fortunes were so shrunken that he was reduced to the necessity of mortgaging the Hermitage to secure a $15,000 debt, and in 1856 he was forced to the sad extremity of placing the estate on the market—having already sold off all of the land except 500 acres.

Naturally, the first prospective purchaser to whom the historic property was offered was the State of Tennessee. In fact, General Jackson seems to have foreseen some such contingency and before he died had told his son that if ever it became necessary for him to sell the Hermitage he should first offer it to his native state. The offer was made, and the state General Assembly passed the following act authorizing its purchase:

Whereas, it is good policy in a republican government to encourage the habits of industry and to inculcate sentiments of veneration for those departed heroes who have rendered important services to their country in times of danger; and

Whereas, Tennessee acknowledges no superior in feelings of patriotism and devotion to the Union in whose cause the lamented Andrew Jackson acquired so much distinction; therefore

Be it enacted by the General Assembly of the State of Tennessee that the governor of the state be empowered and it is hereby made his duty to purchase for the State of Tennessee 500 acres of the late residence of Andrew Jackson, deceased, including the mansion, tomb and other improvements, known as “The Hermitage.”

Be it further enacted that whenever the said purchase is made and the title to said property secured to the state that the governor is hereby authorized to cause the bonds of the state to be issued and to endorse the same in an amount not exceeding $48,000, the proceeds of which to be appropriated by him to carrying into effect the provisions of this act: Provided, that the governor and the secretary of state upon investigation shall be satisfied said price is not exhorbitant.

Be it further enacted that the governor of the state be authorized and required to tender the said property to the General Government of the United States upon the express condition that it be used as a site for a branch of the Military Academy at West Point; and in the event the General Government does not accept the tender thus made in two years from the expiration of this session of the General Assembly, then the governor shall be authorized and required to have fifty acres laid off, including the tomb, mansion and the spring and the spring houses, and expose the balance to public sale either as a whole or in lots, on time or for cash as to him may seem best, and make his report to the legislature of 1859-1860.

Andrew Johnson was governor of the state at this time and was the sponsor of the plan to tender the Hermitage mansion and grounds to the Federal government as a site for a branch of the military academy. In due season he made the tender as instructed, and in 1857 the Committee on Military Affairs of the United States Senate, through Tennessee’s Senator James C. Jones, accepted the offer. But the war clouds were gathering. There was mounting sentiment in the North against a federal military school in the South. Thus, Tennessee retained title to the historic property.

The price the state actually agreed to pay Andrew Jackson, junior, for the property was $50,000; but Mr. Jackson was to continue to occupy it for two years beyond the time of the sale, and so the state held out $2,000 in lieu of rent. Tennessee may not have been willing to recognize any superior in patriotism and devotion to General Jackson, as so eloquently expressed in the enabling act, but she was not above driving a hard bargain with his adopted son. Mr. Jackson, in accordance with the terms of the trade, remained at the Hermitage until 1858 and then removed to Mississippi.

From 1858 to 1860 the Hermitage was without an occupant, and suffered as tenantless houses usually suffer. There was nothing further said about using it as a military school, nor was there any agitation of the plan to offer it for sale “as a whole or in lots.” Fortunately for coming generations of American citizens, the property remained intact; but the old house stood there vacant and decaying until 1860 when Isham G. Harris, the new governor of Tennessee, sent to Mississippi to request Mr. Jackson to return and be its custodian. Mr. Jackson had not been especially prosperous in his new home, and he was glad to return and reëstablish himself in the Hermitage as “tenant at will.” His household at this time consisted of himself and wife, his daughter Rachel, his two sons, Andrew and Samuel, his wife’s widowed sister Mrs. Adams and her three sons.

When Tennessee cast her lot with the Southern Confederacy in July, 1861, it did not take long for the young men of the Hermitage household to join the Confederate forces. Five brave-hearted young soldiers walked out the broad front door of the Hermitage, mounted their horses and rode off to the front. Only one returned. Andrew, III, who had been educated at West Point, was commissioned colonel of the First Tennessee Heavy Artillery, and he was the lone survivor after four years of war, more than half of which was spent in prison at Camp Chase. Samuel, a captain, was killed at Chickamauga and lies buried in the family burial plot in the Hermitage garden. None of the Adams boys survived the war. One was in the Confederate Navy, one was a casualty at the siege of Vicksburg, and the other died in Kentucky fighting with General John Morgan.

Andrew Jackson, junior, with his wife and daughter and Mrs. Adams remained at home in the Hermitage and watched the waves of the war roll back and forth around them. In 1862 after the fall of Fort Donelson (named, incidentally, for Daniel A. Donelson, a general in the Confederate Army and a nephew of Mrs. Rachel Jackson), Nashville fell into the hands of the Federal troops and was never regained by the Confederates. During the Federal occupation of Nashville and the surrounding country, General George H. Thomas placed a cavalry guard over the Hermitage to protect it from damage or despoliation; and to this thoughtful foresight on General Thomas’s part may be attributed the fact that the old home of Andrew Jackson did not suffer the fate of so many other historic houses in the South during the four years of war.

In April, 1865, Andrew Jackson, junior, stepped finally from the stage where he had played such a sad and ineffectual rôle. Just a few days after the news of Lee’s surrender reached the Hermitage he accidentally shot himself while hunting, and died the next day. Perhaps the summons of death was not entirely unwelcome to this saddened and impoverished old man, who had spent his last days as a guest in the decaying old home amid whose pristine splendor he had been the petted and pampered son of its distinguished and honored master. Again the words of the funeral service were heard in the Hermitage parlors, and friends bore his remains to the little graveyard in the corner of the garden. Here he sleeps, with his sons at his side, close in the shadow of the monumental tomb of the great man who adopted him, who gave him his name and who strove so earnestly to make another Andrew Jackson of one in whose veins flowed none of the red Jackson blood.

Mrs. Sarah York Jackson, with her son Andrew, and her sister Mrs. Adams, remained at the Hermitage in the combined position of custodian and guest of the State. The daughter, Rachel, had married Dr. John M. Lawrence and removed to a nearby farm. The state, apparently, forgot that it owned the historic old mansion; and, as the occupants’ means were limited, it gradually deteriorated. Soon after her husband’s death Mrs. Jackson held an auction at which were sold the furnishings of the dining room. These were bought, for the most part, by neighbors and residents of Nashville; and when the Hermitage was rescued and reclaimed most of this furniture was restored to its original place either by purchase or by gift. Mrs. Jackson died in 1887 and she was succeeded as custodian by her son who, in the same year, married Miss Amy Rich, a native of Ohio who was teaching school in the neighborhood.

The Hermitage Church as it appears today.

Interior of the old Hermitage Church. The Jackson pew was near the front on the left-hand side.

View of Mrs. Jackson’s tomb with its eloquent epitaph.

The tomb of General Jackson and his wife in the Hermitage garden. Members of the adopted son’s family are buried in the plot in the background. In the lower right corner is the headstone of the grave of Uncle Alfred “faithful servant of Andrew Jackson.”

From time to time, as the years went by, various suggestions were advanced with reference to making some use of the Hermitage property, but none of them gained much support or aroused much interest. For two decades after 1865 most of the efforts of the state of Tennessee were in the direction of recuperating from the ravages of four years of war, and no serious consideration was given any plan for doing anything definite with the Hermitage. Things just drifted along, with the old mansion house gradually taking on an increased shabbiness, weeds and sprouts springing up in the once well-kept lawn, and other signs of deterioration increasing.

Finally, however, in 1888 affairs were brought to a head by a proposal that the house and farm be converted into a home for Confederate soldiers. This movement gained instant popularity, and so great was the appeal of the idea that it was generally considered that when the state’s General Assembly met in 1889 some action would be taken to convert the Hermitage into a soldiers’ home.

It was then, as a sort of emergency defensive measure, that the Ladies’ Hermitage Association was hastily organized; and too much can never be said in tribute to the work done by this association in saving Old Hickory’s home from misuse or destruction. The idea of an organization of women to preserve and beautify the old place seems to have originated in the mind of Mrs. Amy Jackson, wife of Colonel Andrew Jackson, III, inspired by the successful experience of the Mount Vernon Association in rescuing Washington’s home on the Potomac; and she quickly enlisted the aid of kindred spirits who worked with a fervor and tenacity worthy of Andrew Jackson himself until they had accomplished the desired end.

The people of Tennessee, naturally and justly, had a feeling of veneration and devotion for the Confederate veterans; and it required courage to appear before the public in the rôle of opposing the soldiers’ home movement. Colonel and Mrs. Jackson, however, had associated with them in their apparently hopeless task some tireless and enthusiastic workers. There was Mrs. D. R. Dorris of Nashville, whose husband was a newspaper man and who was herself an accomplished publicist; there were Mr. and Mrs. William Alexander Donelson, Mr. Donelson being a son of Andrew Jackson Donelson, General Jackson’s ward, secretary and friend. From the time of Mrs. Jackson’s conception of the idea of a memorial association, these zealots never relaxed their vigilance nor abated their efforts; and it is primarily due to them and their far-seeing vision and untiring enthusiasm that the Hermitage is today preserved for all the world as a historic shrine.

Mrs. Jackson was not a native of Tennessee, and after she got the ball started to rolling she took but little active part in the promotion work following an initial brush with a group of the Tennessee legislators whom she sharply charged with a lack of veneration for Old Hickory’s memory. They promptly retorted with mumbled but fervent invective against damned Yankees impeding a movement for a Confederate veteran’s home; and she was wise enough then to withdraw from the controversy, which bade fair to become heated. Colonel Jackson, himself a Confederate veteran, was invulnerable to any possible criticism as to a lack of love for the South, and he proved a tireless worker in the cause. Mrs. Dorris worked day and night and kept up a barrage of publicity in the newspapers which was of inestimable value in swaying public sentiment; and Mr. Donelson, with considerable of the diplomacy and political shrewdness inherited from his distinguished father, set himself to work at the task of pledging sufficient votes from the members of the Assembly to save the Hermitage.

Gradually the merit of the proposal gained for it new supporters among the prominent people of Nashville. Mass meetings were held; the newspapers rallied to the cause. One by one, opponents in the Assembly were won over, until at last a majority was assured. But even then, the final result was a compromise. It was the original desire of the ladies to acquire the house and the entire estate, and the statement was boldly made that they were not looking for a gift, that they wanted to buy the property from the state—although they themselves were not quite sure just how they were going to buy anything when they didn’t have any money. At last, however, it was agreed—after long and sometimes stormy debate—that the state would retain the larger part of the farm (475 acres) and erect a special building on it for the soldiers’ home, granting to the women’s organization control of the Hermitage mansion house and twenty-five acres of ground, including the garden, with the injunction to “adorn, beautify and preserve” it.

It was a great disappointment to the ladies when they got only the relatively small tract of twenty-five acres immediately adjacent to the house; and through the following years the association never lost sight of its original aim. In 1923 its tenacity of purpose was first rewarded by having the General Assembly of the state convey to the board of trustees an additional 232½ acres of the original tract, to the end that the association “be permitted and encouraged to preserve and beautify same, so as to display the respect, love and affection which a grateful state and people cherish for their illustrious hero and statesman, Andrew Jackson.” It was stipulated at the time of this conveyance, however, that there should be no interference with or infringement on any of the rights or uses of the land then held and used by the Confederate soldiers’ home so long as the home should continue to exist. But in 1934 the number of inmates in the home had dwindled to eleven, so these few tottering old men were transferred to another state institution; and then all the remaining acres were turned over to the management of the Ladies’ Hermitage Association. Thus, at last, the association achieved its original aim to have the whole property under its direction—the mansion house and the entire 500 acres.

The state in its conveyance of the property adopted the excessive precaution of providing for the creation of a board of nine trustees (male in gender), these to be commissioned by the governor upon the recommendation of the association. This, it will be recalled, was back in 1889 before the days of equal suffrage, when the activities of mere women were supposed to require the strong guiding hand of a masculine supervisory body; but, be it said to their everlasting credit, the trustees have tacitly taken the position that their powers and duties are purely nominal and honorary. The legal title to the property rests in them; but the administration and management are vested in the ladies’ organization, and whatever credit is due for the rescue and preservation of the Hermitage is distinctly to be attributed to the unflagging labors of the patriotic and devoted women who have constituted its membership and corps of officers since it was organized.

The Ladies’ Hermitage Association was formally organized on May 15, 1889, under a charter that had been granted on February 19th of that year. At the organization meeting directors were elected and the association was definitely launched as an active body with Mrs. Nathaniel Baxter as its first regent. Following the example of the Mount Vernon Association, it was planned to make the organization truly national in its scope by appointing vice-regents in every state of the union. Accordingly an impressive list of vice-regents was made up, including such distinguished women as Mrs. Grover Cleveland, Mrs. Potter Palmer, Mrs. A. K. McClure and others, who, it was hoped, would be interested in the movement. The hope that women in other states would join in the work, however, proved to be without foundation; and the women of Tennessee soon reconciled themselves to the realization that whatever was done would have to be done without outside assistance.

Although the promoters of the association were successful in their efforts to prevent such use of the Hermitage as would destroy the possibility of maintaining it as an historic shrine, the state was strangely reluctant and niggardly in carrying out its part of the deal. In substance, the state transferred to the ladies’ association the responsibility of managing the property; but did not, at that time, appropriate one cent for its maintenance. In 1895 the state, in a burst of belated generosity, appropriated $50 per month for the upkeep of the Hermitage. This was increased to $1,200 per year in 1911, to $1,800 in 1915 and to $2,000 in 1919, at which later figure it now remains; but for its whole life the Ladies’ Hermitage Association has been to all intents and purposes entirely self-supporting, and in raising funds for the purchase of the original furniture and historic relics it had no financial aid whatever from the state.

Immediately after acquiring the property the association broadcast an appeal to the American public for funds; which appeal, printed in booklet form, was given the most widespread distribution. After reciting the fact that the association had been entrusted by the state with the management of the property, the booklet stated:

The association proposes to keep in continual repair the house, tomb and grounds; for many years nothing has been done in this regard. There is consequently great need for a repair fund, and the first money collected into the treasury will be devoted to restoring to its original beauty the grand old historic mansion, the tomb, and to adorning the grounds. The association also wishes to purchase the relics and furniture now at the Hermitage and owned by Colonel Andrew Jackson, and which have been pledged to said association. These relics are both valuable and interesting, and a large sum of money will be required to purchase them. It will be readily seen that to put the homestead in thorough repair, to purchase the relics, to create an endowment fund by which the association is to become self-sustaining, a large sum of money will be required. The association is national in its character, as Andrew Jackson was national in his reputation. He belonged to the people, and to them the association now appeals for assistance in this great work. The by-laws require a membership fee of one dollar; by this means the association hopes to realize at least $150,000, as it is the belief that there are fully that many citizens of the United States who would gladly give that sum to the restoration of Old Hickory’s home. Contributions are invited of any sum from one dollar or less to any great sum a munificent benefactor may be willing to give. We hope that this appeal will strike the keynote of patriotism and that in a very few years the home of Andrew Jackson, the beautiful Hermitage, will be the Mecca of all true patriots in the United States, and of historic interest to the touring stranger.

Despite the eloquence of this fervent appeal and the sanguine expectations expressed, the effort to enlist financial support was signally ineffective and devoid of results. All the true patriots, so confidently invited to join in the movement, seemed fully willing to let somebody else pay for restoring of Old Hickory’s home. No munificent benefactor stepped forward to volunteer the donation of any great sum. To their pained surprise and chagrin, the ladies were forced to the conclusion that they themselves by their own efforts would have to raise the money needed. And so they fell to work at the proverbially hopeless task of pulling themselves up by their own bootstraps.

In 1889 the association must have viewed the task ahead of it with something akin to terror: A tumble-down house, a neglected and weed-grown lawn and garden, dilapidated fences and out-houses—and an empty treasury. Window-panes were broken out; the woodwork had not known the touch of a paint-brush for forty-five years; the stately columns were rotting and awry; window shutters were off their hinges, flapping in the wind; the roof leaked so badly that the plastering was falling off the walls and ceiling; the wallpaper was hanging in tatters; the old dining-room was used as a place for storing sacks of wheat, with space left for General Jackson’s old carriage; the rear lawn had been plowed up and cultivated. Here was a rehabilitation job of sickeningly great proportions—and the fledgling organization did not even have enough cash in hand to start grubbing up the young elm and mulberry sprouts that covered the front lawn.

But the ladies, buoyed up by their zeal and devotion, never lost heart. They would not permit themselves to be discouraged at the magnitude of the task confronting them. By dint of holding entertainments and concerts and balls and resorting to other money-making expedients they slowly accumulated enough to begin the work of making the most immediately necessary repairs. It was an Herculean task, and the marvel is that they had the courage and pertinacity to attempt it and stick to it in those early days when financial help was so hard to get.

One of the earliest sources of revenue for the association was the staging of excursions to the Hermitage. This was before the days of good roads and automobiles and the place, located twelve miles from the center of Nashville, was distinctly inaccessible. There was a railroad station two miles from the house, and the plantation’s steamboat landing was located just back of the soldier’s home building three miles away.

The first excursion was made by way of both rail and steamboats from Nashville, and was given on the occasion of the annual meeting of the National Educational Association in that city in July, 1889. This was the very first activity of the new organization, and it was on this occasion that the Hermitage was first thrown open as a public institution. “Pleasure wagons” met the trains and steamboats and transported the visitors to the house; and during the four days’ session of the educational association more than a thousand people drove up the driveway, bordered with its towering cedars, and visited Old Hickory’s old home.

A noteworthy feature of this first official visitation of the Hermitage by the public was that just before the first wagon-load of pedagogical excursionists drove up to the front door of the mansion house there was born there the last of the Jackson name ever to be given birth within the walls of the Hermitage. The new arrival was named Albert Marble Jackson, in honor of the president of the educational association; and a committee of the visiting educators with a flourish presented the little fellow with a primer, placing his baby hands upon it when he was but a few hours old. All of the visiting ladies, of course, had to pick up the new baby and cuddle it; and his old nurse never tired of recounting the fact that after the visitors had gone poor little Marble was “as red as a beet” from all the manhandling he had received during the day. Not until he had been given a sedative (in the form of a mild toddy) was he finally sung to sleep that night, after as strenuous a day as any new-born baby ever experienced. It was this baby, grown to be a handsome young man, who had the honor of unveiling Andrew Jackson’s bust in Statuary Hall in the Capitol at Washington in 1928.

Another promotional activity of the Ladies’ Hermitage Association, launched in 1890 and continued until recent years, was the brilliant ball given each year in celebration of Jackson Day—January 8th, the anniversary of the Battle of New Orleans. An interesting feature of this ball each year has been the lighting, for only a few seconds, of the historic candle found in Lord Cornwallis’s tent at the time of his surrender. The candle was presented to General Jackson during the height of his fame and was one of his most prized possessions. He made it a practice during his lifetime to light it briefly on every Eighth of January, and it was in honor of this ceremony of his that the practice was perpetuated in the Jackson Day balls. This old candle, brown with age, is one of the many interesting things to be seen now in the museum at the Hermitage.

When the Hermitage property was turned over to the association in 1889 it was in such a state of decay that it was hard to determine just where to start the work of repair. The roof was leaking, the woodwork needed painting, the wallpaper was hanging in shreds on the dampened and moldy walls. One of the first works of restoration involved the repair of the hand-painted scenic wall paper that adorned the lower hall. This paper was threatened with complete destruction when the ladies’ association took over the management of the property; and an expert wallpaper man spent two weeks repairing it and putting it back in place. At the same time the wall paper all over the house was restored and renovated, as it was considered a matter of primary desirability and importance to preserve the original paper which had been selected by General Jackson and sent to the Hermitage when it was rebuilt in 1835. An excellent job of restoration and repair was accomplished, this being particularly noticeable in one of the guest rooms on the second floor. The paper in this room, in the old-fashioned block design, showed recurring bunches of roses; but the dampness of the walls had caused large patches of it to fall away and be lost. An artist was employed who so skilfully reproduced the design in fresco on the wall that it is today hard to see where the paper ends and the painting begins.

Earl’s portrait of General Jackson mounted on Sam Patch.

The old family carriage.

Again in 1930 the scenic paper in the hall was the subject of preservative treatment at the hands of one of the world’s foremost experts in this kind of work. Skilfully the paper was removed from the walls, which were then lined with canvas. The canvas was then covered with plain white paper, on which was mounted the scenic paper. Due to the ravages of time and the petty vandalism of misguided souvenir hunters some small parts of the paper were missing, but these were carefully reproduced and the lower hall now presents the same gay appearance it did when President Jackson came home from Washington in 1836 to inspect his rebuilt and refurnished home.

During the early days limited funds necessarily restricted the work that could be done; but as the years went by the income gradually increased, and each succeeding regent of the association took pride in performing some necessary part of the work during her administration.

In 1907 the association received its greatest single gift of money from an outside source—an appropriation of $5,000 from the United States government. It was during this year that President Roosevelt visited the Hermitage, and he immediately became much interested in its attractiveness and importance as a national shrine.

President Roosevelt was a genuine admirer of Andrew Jackson. In his book about the War of 1812 he said that “Jackson is certainly by all odds the most prominent figure that appears during this war;” and later in the same book he says that Andrew Jackson “with his cool head and clear eyes, his stout heart and strong hand, stands out in history as the ablest general the United States produced from the outbreak of the Revolution down to the beginning of the great Rebellion.”

In an informal address delivered on the occasion of his visit to the Hermitage, President Roosevelt complimented the ladies’ organization on what it had done to preserve it “as a place of national pilgrimage for all citizens who wish to learn, to study, who wish to quicken their patriotism in the present by visiting the abode, the living place of one of the great patriots of the nation’s past.” With his customary impulsiveness he then and there declared that he would see to it that the national government made a contribution to the expense of maintaining what he described as “the home of one of the three or four greatest public men that any nation has developed in the same length of time.”

In his very next message to Congress President Roosevelt said: “I solemnly recommend to the Congress to provide funds for keeping up the Hermitage, the home of Andrew Jackson, these funds to be used through the existing Hermitage Association for the preservation of the historic building which should be ever dear to America.” Honorable John Wesley Gaines, then a member of the board of trustees of the Hermitage was the representative in Washington of that Congressional district of Tennessee affectionately known as “the Hermitage District;” and he promptly introduced a bill following the recommendation of the President, which bill soon passed, granting $5,000 to the association. This money was utilized in making some highly desirable improvements about the place, foremost of which was the enlargement of the caretaker’s cottage so as to render unnecessary his occupation of any part of the house. The Hermitage then, for the first time, was open in its entirety to visitors.

The chief source of revenue of the association is the admission fee charged at the door of the house; and as thousands of visitors pass through the broad front door every month, the income from this source is not inconsiderable. At first a fee of ten cents was charged, the amount being made small since there was really but little to see except the bare house and it in a sadly run-down condition. This fee, however, was increased to 25 cents in 1899, after some of the original furniture had been installed, and at this figure it has remained.

The funds derived from the admission fees are augmented by the sale of pictures, pamphlets and souvenirs. A few years ago an unusually severe storm blew down a number of century-old cedar trees that had been planted by General Jackson himself along the driveway; and from these fallen trees has been obtained a supply of wood from which may be supplied novelties for a long time to come.

Naturally one of the first aims of the association was to acquire from Colonel Andrew Jackson, III, the furniture and the personal relics of General Jackson which he had inherited and which he still had in the house. This furniture constituted the original furnishing of the old house, placed there by General Jackson himself, and included the bed on which he died and the appurtenances of his room just as he had left them. All these furnishings and relics had been left to Colonel Jackson by his mother, and it was the desire of the association to preserve them intact and keep them in their original place.

Colonel Jackson was agreeable to the sale, and gave the association a four-year option on them at a price of $17,500; but the finances of the organization were totally inadequate to handle a deal of such proportions at that time. Accordingly a compromise arrangement was made whereby Colonel Jackson and his wife were retained as custodians of the property, and the association agreed to pay them at the rate of 3% on the agreed value of the furniture and relics. The state had retained the tillable part of the farm, and Colonel Jackson could not look to that as a means of support; and although the struggling association could not keep up its payments to him with any degree of regularity, thereby working a hardship and inconvenience on him, he permitted the option to remain in force until July, 1893, hoping that the organization would be able to raise the necessary funds. An effort was made to get the state to appropriate $15,000 for this purpose, and the governor sent a special message to the General Assembly recommending the appropriation. But the watchdogs of the state treasury could not see any political juice to be squeezed out of such a measure, and they proceeded to make spread-eagle orations about the folly of spending a small fortune for relics when there was so much “practical good” that could be done with the money. So the appropriation was defeated, and upon the expiration of the option Colonel Jackson and his wife removed from the Hermitage, taking with them all its furnishings and leaving only the bare walls.

With the Hermitage left bare and unoccupied, the ladies were confronted with the acute problem of what to do with the historic mansion they had worked so hard to get. Uncle Alfred, the ancient retainer of the Jackson family, remained in his cabin, the sole vestige of life on the place; but it was out of the question to expect this tottering old black octogenarian to care properly for so valuable a piece of property. For want of some more expedient means of immediately meeting the difficulty, the regent and secretary of the association planned temporarily to occupy the house themselves until suitable permanent arrangements could be made. A few simple pieces of furniture were installed, a cook was engaged to prepare their meals, and bravely the two ladies assumed occupancy of the deserted house.

The first day passed pleasantly enough, but the gathering shadows of night, when they were left alone in the house, suddenly brought home to the ladies a sharp realization of their lonely situation. They retired early and went to sleep, but they were awakened during the night by an unearthly din—from the pantry came the sound of crashing pans and dishes, there was a sound of chains being dragged across the upstairs hall, there was a noise like a war-horse being ridden headlong through the upper rooms. In short, there were all the standard evidences of a real, old-fashioned ghost! The second night brought the same experience—and then, for some reason or other, the regent and the secretary officially decided that it would be wise to engage a regular caretaker to look after the property, and they discreetly returned to their homes in Nashville.

So a man was employed who was a combination carpenter and gardener and handy man, and for the next two years work was concentrated on improving the appearance of the place, especially in the garden. Then in 1895 a young farmer of the neighborhood, Mr. T. L. Baker, was engaged as caretaker, and he and his wife moved onto the premises and took charge. At this writing Mr. Baker is still the custodian, and the appearance of the Hermitage and grounds today is to a great extent a tribute to his faithful and efficient work.

Despite all its early discouragements, the association never lost sight of the fact that the most important thing before it was the restoration to the Hermitage of the original furniture and relics still in the possession of Colonel Jackson. Without them the house was just an empty shell. In 1897, while the Tennessee Centennial Exposition was being held in Nashville, Colonel Jackson wrote to the association suggesting that they buy and exhibit at the exposition the historic old Jackson family carriage. After some dickering the coach was purchased for $100 and put on display at the exposition, where it attracted much attention. It is now to be seen in the carriage house at the Hermitage, and constitutes one of the most interesting features of the display there. Visitors who drive to the Hermitage in their automobiles from all parts of the country seem fascinated by the clumsy-looking old coach with its high wheels, denoting muddy roads, but with its pink satin lining, indicating that it was a vehicle of quality.

The purchase of the old carriage served to reopen negotiations with Colonel Jackson, and from that time on the association continued to purchase the furnishings piecemeal until there had been acquired all the original furniture and most of the relics desired. With the aid of Mrs. Rachel Jackson Lawrence and Uncle Alfred, both of whom were familiar with the arrangement of the furniture in the early days, every piece was put in its original and proper place. Today the Hermitage stands unique in being the country’s only national shrine which is fitted throughout with the original furnishings, which gives an authentic impression of the exact conditions under which its famous occupant lived his everyday life.

Wisely enough, the first purchase of furniture made by the association embraced the bedroom furnishings of General Jackson’s own room—the bed, dresser, washstand, couch, table, chairs, fender and andirons, all the portraits and the carpet. The price paid was $1,000. The furniture used in the downstairs hall was next purchased; and then, room by room, as the money became available, the purchases were continued until all the rooms were equipped with their original furnishings.

In 1894 one of the most important improvements was made when a modern heating plant was installed which eliminated the damage caused by excessive dampness within the house. The heating plant is now located at a safe distance from the building, for the purpose of reducing the fire hazard to a minimum. In fact, the most painstaking precautions have been employed to prevent fire. The house is not wired for electricity, and no artificial lighting of any kind is used. The place is closed to visitors when the light of the sun fades in the late afternoon. Danger from fire originating within the building seems to have been entirely eliminated; and as the caretaker’s home and outbuildings are at a safe distance from the house, the probability of fire being communicated from that source is remote.

By the narrowest of margins the Hermitage escaped from the blighting hand of those who would have made of it a military academy, a reform school or a state institution, or in some other way prevented its being maintained as a place where admiring American citizens may go and admire the memory of the man who lived there during the history-making days of his dramatic career in public life. But today, thanks to the diligence of a little handful of far-seeing zealots of forty years ago whose patriotic devotion has been the inspiration of those who have so faithfully worked to bring their dream to fulfilment, the Hermitage is preserved in perpetuity as a shrine to which the footsteps of admiring thousands have beaten paths from all over the nation.

Andrew Jackson was a meteoric figure in the life of the country; he was the first to give actuality and realization to the theory that the most humbly born individual might aspire to and reach the President’s chair. Well did President Roosevelt say: “His career will stand evermore as a source of inspiration for boy and man in this republic,” and it is a priceless privilege that patriotic fathers may bring their sons to the stately old home of the grand old man who wore his patriotism as a flaming badge and who knew no motive more impelling than his passionate love for his country.

IV: DESCRIPTION OF THE HOUSE

When the wrought-iron gates swing back on the cut-stone pillars at the entrance to the driveway leading up to the Hermitage front door they leave an opening that is a tight fit for an entering automobile, although it was amply wide for the carriages in vogue a hundred years ago when it was built. Anyhow, this front entrance is not open to automobiles now—the ladies concluded that the trees were being jeopardized by the visitors’ cars—but, nevertheless, the Hermitage makes its most impressive appearance when approached from the front.

The house is situated back about a hundred yards from the county road, and is reached by a beautiful tree-lined driveway in the shape of a guitar. This driveway was built in 1837, when the Jacksons returned from the White House, and its design was suggested by Mrs. Sarah York Jackson. The ever-ready and versatile Earl drew the plans for it, and he and the General superintended the actual construction work. The General took particular interest in it and personally looked after the planting of the cedar trees on both sides of it. The driveway curves up to the step leading onto the portico, shaded by two splendid old holly trees, and here the visitor of today enters at the same place as did the guests of General Jackson in the early part of the Nineteenth Century.

The floor plan of the Hermitage, as will be seen from the accompanying sketch, was a convenient and commodious one.

Crossing the broad front portico, floored with flagstones quarried from the native limestone, and entering through the beautifully detailed double front door, the visitor finds himself in the wide central hall, running from front to back, a feature so much in favor in Southern architecture on account of the free ventilation thus afforded. The most immediately striking architectural feature of the hall is the superb circular staircase which sweeps in a perfect curve of beauty to the second floor. Whoever designed and built this stairway, craftsman though he may have been, had the soul of an artist combined with the brain of a mathematician, for every feature of it is so carefully planned and built that there is never a flaw in the flowing grace of its inspiring upward spiral sweep.

Passage from kitchen on left to entrance to butler’s pantry on right, with rear gallery in the background.

The Hermitage well, with primitive windlass and bucket.

The front gate and entrance driveway, bordered with native cedar trees planted by General Jackson in 1837.

The garden as seen from the window of one of the guest rooms, showing the east field beyond.

To the left of the hall are the double parlors, separated with folding doors, and each with its doorway into the hall. Each of the parlors has a handsome marble mantelpiece, the one in the front being made from marble quarried in Italy while that in the rear is made from native Tennessee marble. The crimson damask curtains at the windows were ordered by General Jackson in Philadelphia in 1836 when the Hermitage was refurnished, the color being specified because his wife had always preferred it. The piano in the back parlor is one bought by General Jackson for his little granddaughter, Rachel, soon after he retired from the Presidency. “Would my baby like to take music lessons?” he asked her one day; and when she answered in the affirmative he sent her mother to town to buy her a new piano—the old one wasn’t good enough for his little pet. The old piano was sold in 1865 when the adopted son’s widow disposed of some surplus furniture, the purchaser being a neighboring farmer who confided that he expected to use it to hive bees. There is also to be seen in the back parlor a handsome mahogany center table which has an interesting history. When General and Mrs. Jackson were entertained in New Orleans in 1815, following the battle, the handsome furnishings of the room where they were entertained were presented to them and shipped up the river to the Hermitage when they returned. Most of this presentation furniture was burned in 1834, but this old table survived. On the mantel in the back parlor is General Jackson’s favorite clock, with its hands stopped at the hour of his death. All the furnishings of the parlors—the chairs, mirrors, chandeliers, draperies, carpets, vases, divans, etc.—are part of the Hermitage’s original furnishings, and are in the places they occupied when General Jackson was alive. The crystal chandeliers are especially impressive. They seem to hang rather low—but they were placed there in the days when candles were used for lights, even before the later days when the primitive tapers were replaced with the modern sperm-oil lamps.

A doorway leads from the front parlor into the dining room wing, and there is also a door into the dining room from the broad front portico. To the rear of the dining room are the pantry and storeroom, with a passage leading to the semi-detached old-fashioned kitchen in the rear.

In the dining room is to be seen the massive mahogany sideboard purchased by Mrs. Jackson in New Orleans when she and the General were returning from Florida, together with the table, chairs and other original furnishings of this room. Here also is displayed most of the Hermitage silverware, including the silver formerly belonging to Commodore Decatur, engraved with his coat of arms, which was purchased from his widow by Jackson in 1833 when she was in reduced circumstances. The General bought from Mrs. Decatur for $350 her china and silverware, but he presented the china and two silver fruit baskets to Mrs. Emily Donelson, giving the remainder of the silver to “my daughter, Sarah Jackson.” When Commodore Decatur was killed in his duel with Captain Barron it left his wife in financial distress. One of her impatient creditors brought suit against her which, to use her own words, “frightened all the trades people with whom I have any little dealing and makes them more pressing for payment;” and the General’s check for $350 gave her very welcome relief.

The dining-room fireplace is featured by the celebrated Eighth of January mantelpiece, a rustic affair built of pieces of rough hickory by one of Jackson’s veterans of the Battle of New Orleans who made it as a monumental labor of love, working on it all by himself and working only on successive anniversaries of the battle until he got it finished on January 8, 1839. The General entered into the spirit of the thing and installed it in this room, with suitable ceremonies, on January 8, 1840. It is now in a rather dilapidated condition, thanks to the depradations of souvenir hunters in the early days before the present iron railing was built.

The floor in the dining room is a reproduction, the only floor in the house not original. This room, however, had been used for years as a storeroom when the association took over the property and the flooring was ruined. An oak floor was laid to replace it; but in 1931 this was removed and a floor of wide poplar boards was built to correspond with the original. All the floors in the house are made of poplar, except the porch floors which are native Tennessee red cedar and which constitute a striking tribute to the durability of this wood.

In the broad central hall downstairs there is seen on the walls the celebrated pictorial wall paper, bought for the new house in 1836. Mrs. Rachel Jackson Lawrence, the General’s granddaughter, is authority for the statement that similar paper was used in the hall before the house was burned, and she was fond of recalling that the paper for this hall had to be bought three times: The first time from Paris, during Mrs. Rachel Jackson’s lifetime; and the two purchases that had to be made to get the paper on the walls in 1836. In the refurnishing of the new Hermitage most of the purchases were made in Philadelphia by Mrs. Sarah York Jackson; acting, of course, under the General’s suggestions when he had any to make. Accordingly in January, 1836, a shipment of furniture and furnishings was made from Philadelphia, the invoice covering which included the pictorial paper ordered from Paris: “3 sets of fine paper hanging, Views of Telemachus, @ $40, $120.” But the steamboat on which these furnishings were being transported, the John Randolph, was burned at the wharf at Nashville on March 16, 1836 (with the loss of three lives); and only a part of the boat’s cargo was saved. At a sale of the salvage, probably through error, the crate containing the paper, along with a lot of other stuff, was sold to Mr. W. G. M. Campbell who had just finished building a new home on his farm on the Lebanon Road near Nashville. Surviving members of Mr. Campbell’s family state that he did not know what was in the crate when he bought it, simply buying it “sight unseen” along with other salvage from the burned steamboat. The inescapable inference from the preserved correspondence is that Jackson’s Nashville factors, Yeatman and Company, who owned the John Randolph, tried to recover the paper after they discovered that it had not been damaged by the fire so as to render it unfit for use; but, it seems, they were thwarted by Mr. Campbell who resorted to the expedient of pasting the paper on the walls of the parlor of his new house before starting to argue about it. The Campbell descendants today affirm that they never heard that there was any argument about it, and that all there was to it was that Mr. Campbell bought it at public sale, paid for it and used it—a strictly legitimate and above-board transaction. But on May 27, 1836, Colonel Armstrong wrote General Jackson in some heat as follows:

“I send you enclosed a note addressed to me by the Messrs. Yeatman after a conversation I had with them this morning. They have always been ready and willing to do all in their power to get back the paper from those who purchased it. When I called on Campbell I expected to get the paper; that night he cut it and put it on the walls. Williams is not at home. I saw Shelly, who will do nothing. He is not disposed to restore it. Williams dare not, as his wife claims it; so I called on the Messrs Yeatman and stated the facts, who willingly proposed to purchase another set. I did not present Andrew’s note to them enclosed to Colonel Love, but suggested in their letter to draw on them for the amount. My dear sir, when you have this whole matter explained it will give you a pain to find men so lost to all honorable feelings as to retain that which does not belong to them. It is a theft. The person who you got the other set from will draw on Messrs. Yeatman or myself on sight and the draft will be paid. Send it out as soon as possible, so that we may complete the house. Major Eaton will be with you in a few days and will explain this unpleasant affair and the treatment received. Yeatman will sue for the real value of the paper. He thinks he has been badly treated by Williams and Campbell. He offered them any profit in advance if that was their object. Let me request you to send out the other without delay, as I want to see the house complete before Mrs. Jackson and yourself get out.”

Colonel Armstrong’s letter is tantalizingly incomplete in details, and there is no other written reference to this “unpleasant affair;” nor is there any inkling as to the identity of the Williams and Shelly mentioned.

Be that as it may, the paper was hung on the walls of the Campbell parlor and is there today, although it is now covered with two layers of modern wall paper put on to satisfy the taste of modern tenants of the old Campbell homestead who objected to the faded grandeur of the old hand-painted paper imported from Paris and wanted something bright and new.

Promptly upon receipt of news of the original paper’s fate, General Jackson wrote to his friend Henry Toland in Philadelphia and ordered a duplicate set. This paper, manufactured by Dufour in France and imported by Toland, is the paper that is on the walls of the downstairs hall today, attracting the admiring glances of all visitors.

This paper depicts the familiar story from mythology of the adventures of Telemachus on the island of Calypso while on his journey in search of Ulysses. There are four scenes in the paper: No. 1, the landing of Telemachus on the island, showing the queen advancing to meet him; No. 2, Telemachus, with Mentor beside him, relating to Calypso the story of his travels; No. 3, the fete given by Calypso in honor of the visitor; No. 4, Telemachus leaping from the cliff after the maidens of the island had burned his boat upon learning of his resolution to escape.

Midway of the downstairs hall, on the right-hand side, is the door to a cross-hall which leads to the side entrance on the east or garden side. On either side of this little hall are doorways leading to the downstairs bedrooms; and the entry hall at the side is flanked on the left by a small room formerly used, first as the overseer’s or steward’s room and later as a nursery, and now serving as the museum. On the right is General Jackson’s library or office which has a door leading to the front bedroom (which was the General’s) and another door opening on the front portico, corresponding to the similar door at the other end of the porch which affords entrance into the dining room.

Perhaps the most interesting room of all is that front bedroom, the old General’s room, just as it was the day he died. There is the high old four-poster bed, with its heavy canopy and with its little steps at its side, the bed on which he breathed his last. There is the couch by the window on which he spent so much of his time during the latter years of his life. There is his chair, his dressing gown, his tobacco box; and there above the mantel is the portrait of his much beloved Rachel, placed where his eyes could see it the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night while he lived and where the last flickering glance of his closing eyes rested the day he died. Two windows look out on the front porch, and it was by these windows that the plantation’s slaves gathered and waited weeping while he gasped out his last few breaths. Also it was through one of these windows that the old man leaped one night when he awoke suddenly and found his room filled with smoke. A spark had popped out of the fireplace and set fire to his big chair, but he thought that the house was afire and fled precipitately, calling for help. Here is a room redolent with memories of the old General; it is no wonder that visitors linger at its doorway longer than at any other spot in the whole house.

The room immediately across the side hall was originally known as “Mrs. Jackson’s room” and was used as a family sitting room, before the wings were added. At that time the present back parlor was used as the dining room, and the front parlor was known as the portrait parlor, being the room in which all the portraits were hung. In 1832 this back bedroom was refurbished to be used by Andrew Jackson, junior, and his wife as their room. “It will be more convenient than upstairs,” the General wrote Andrew when suggesting this use of the room—and perhaps he also looked ahead to the time when the adjoining little room would be useful as a nursery.

The office or library, adjoining General Jackson’s bedroom, might well be said to have been the center of political activity of the United States for thirty years. History was made in this room. Presidents were made and unmade, Cabinet officials and other high dignitaries had their fate decided there. Here are the furnishings—the bookcases, desks and chairs—just as they were in those days. One feature that might strike the visitor is that there are not so many books in evidence as one might expect to find in the library of the President of the United States. Less than 1,000 volumes are in the cases. Andrew Jackson was a man of action rather than reading, but the books he possessed (many of them gifts of admirers and of proud authors) indicate that he had a widely diversified taste for good literature and that he was not a stranger to classical and studious reading.

The Hermitage bookshelves show a library of which nobody need feel ashamed. Here are Shakspeare’s works, the poems of Byron and Burns and Dryden, Pilgrim’s Progress and theological works alongside the novels of Smollett and Fielding. Here is Johnson’s Dictionary, and an early Encyclopedia Americana; the Spectator, the Rambler; early American novels, notably those of William Gilmore Simms and Charles Brockden Brown; here are Horace and Virgil in translation—and a burlesque Iliad. Memories of his war on the Bank are recalled by the numerous treatises on banking and currency; and one is reminded of his military days by a copy of the Infantry Regulations, dated 1812, along with a number of books referring to the War of 1812. There is a complete array of medical books for the home—necessary in those days before the telephone and automobile made doctors so immediately accessible; and his practical knowledge of stock breeding is indicated by the books on the veterinary science and the other aspects of animal husbandry. Here is young Andrew’s copy of Robinson Crusoe, also some of his schoolbooks; and a sentimental touch is provided by a calf-bound copy of Burns’ Poetical Works on the flyleaf of which is inscribed “To Rachel Jackson, from her beloved husband, And^w Jackson.” Also reminiscent of Rachel is a flower gardening guide, with quaint old illustrations. There are bound volumes of Niles’ Weekly Register, there are the Madison Papers and the American State Papers, some law books of the early days—in short, it is the library of a country gentleman and statesman of a century ago.

Here in his office, aside from his books, we find his old walnut desk, used throughout his life from the time he was a practicing attorney; the mahogany tables; candlesticks and lamps. It is the workshop of the statesman, just as he left it nearly a century ago.

In a cabinet on one side of the room are a number of bound volumes of newspapers of Jackson’s day, which recalls the fact that he was an omnivorous reader of the newspapers and periodicals current in his time. His postage account with the Nashville postoffice in 1825 shows that he received regularly the following papers: Washington City Gazette, Florence Gazette, American Farmer, Louisville Public Advertiser, National Journal, National Chronicle (daily), Niles Register, Columbian, Louisiana Gazette, Kentucky Gazette, Baltimore Morning Chronicle (daily), Jackson Gazette, Knoxville Enquirer, Allegheny Democrat, Mobile Commercial Register, National Republican, Knoxville Register and Florida Intelligencer—all these in addition to the Nashville papers. One wonders how he had any time at all for reading books!

The little room to the right of the side entrance was originally designed for an overseer’s room, but was later used as a nursery for the children of Andrew, junior. Now it provides an admirable place for the display of the many interesting Jackson relics accumulated by the Ladies Hermitage Association. Here is a wonderful array of historical and personal relics—the General’s swords and pistols (also his prayer book and silver communion cup); his gold spurs, epaulettes and stirrups, and his dress suit; Mrs. Jackson’s lace cap and veil; specimens of the White House silver, china and cut glass; the famous candle taken from the tent of Cornwallis; medals; jewelry; letters and documents—an intensely interesting collection of memorabilia pertaining to the vivid career of the Hermitage’s master. Literally hours may be spent in this room profitably and pleasantly.

One of the garden walks, with original boxwood and crape myrtle.

View of garden from the house, showing the tomb in the corner in the background.

The hall between the library and museum was originally an open entry, but was enclosed when the rebuilding was done. The closet on the right-hand side of the hall, under the stairway, was added after General Jackson’s death, but the left-hand closet was original. This was used in the old days to store the cotton goods made by the plantation spinners before it was doled out to the sewing women. Every year in the late fall the negroes were called up to the overseer’s room to be given their winter clothing, and this occasion was always seized upon by the negroes for a big celebration. A plantation slave orchestra, composed of fiddle, tambourine and bones, would make music while the negroes were coming and going and everybody—black and white—always had a big time on these occasions.

Going upstairs by way of the back stairway there is to be found on the right a bedroom that was used by the boys brought up on the place—Andrew Jackson, junior; Andrew Jackson Donelson and Andrew Jackson Hutchings. On the left is the bedroom occupied so long by Ralph E. W. Earl, the artist who married one of the nieces of Mrs. Jackson and who, upon his wife’s early death, was taken in as a permanent member of the Hermitage household.

The arrangement of rooms upstairs is similar to the downstairs of the central part of the house—a broad central hall, running the full length of the house, with two bedrooms on each side of it. This hall has doors at front and rear opening onto the upstairs back and front porticos; and its walls are covered with a hand-painted duplicate of the scenic paper downstairs. This duplicate paper was painted by Miss Jennings for use in the replica of the Hermitage which stood on the exposition grounds at the St. Louis World’s Fair in 1904. After the exposition closed it was brought back to Nashville and placed in its present location, where it provides a pleasing complement to the original paper in the lower hall.

On the western side of the upstairs hall the back bedroom was used as a guest room (and it was seldom empty); and the front bedroom is officially labeled “The Lafayette Room,” probably because it was in the corresponding room in the old Hermitage that the Marquis de Lafayette spent the day when he visited Jackson in 1825, ten years before the present Hermitage was constructed.

The fire in 1834 destroyed much of the furniture then in use in the house, and it was replaced with goods purchased in Philadelphia. Jackson left the selection of the furnishings to Mrs. Sarah York Jackson, his only suggestion in connection with the furniture being that she order beds with plain posts instead of carved ones as they would be easier to keep clean. This admonition accounts for the severely plain bedsteads to be seen throughout the Hermitage.

This new furniture was shipped in coastwise vessels to New Orleans, and thence by river steamboats to Nashville. There seems, for some reason, to be a strange conflict of erroneous opinions about the origin of the furniture used to furnish the new Hermitage. Some have stated that it was imported directly from France. At one time it was persistently reported that Jackson took the White House furniture to the Hermitage when he retired from office in 1837. The records clearly indicate, however, that the furniture was bought in Philadelphia through Jackson’s agent there, Henry Toland, and consigned by Toland to Maunsel White, Jackson’s New Orleans factor, with instruction to send it up the river to the Hermitage. The total value of the new furniture was $2,303.77, divided among seven Philadelphia merchants. A specimen bill for furniture from one house, showing the values prevailing at the time, was as follows:

The detailed bill of lading for the principal consignment of the new furnishings gives a good idea of the original cost of much of the furniture now in the house:

All the goods mentioned in the above invoice arrived safely in New Orleans, but when they were reshipped on river steamboats to Nashville a large part of the goods was lost when the John Randolph burned at the wharf in Nashville on May 16, 1836. The John Randolph carried eighteen crates of the new Hermitage furniture, including the famous Telemachus paper, and this loss coming close on the heels of the loss of his house must have been sorely discouraging to the old man. But he promptly, upon receipt of the bad news, wrote Andrew to check up the bills of lading and let him know just what parcels were burned so that he could reorder them in Philadelphia. His letter closes on a pathetic note: “This catastrophe will make it necessary that I should have more means, and in one of my letters I said to you to inquire whether the tract in the Western District, or part of it, could be sold and for what. You told me some time ago that there was a man would give five dollars per acre for 400 acres. If you can get that for it in cash I authorize you to sell it. You can say with truth that I had declined taking that offer for it because it was too low; but the burning of my house, and now my furniture, makes it necessary for me to sell.”

The General’s worst fears were realized insofar as he was perturbed about the inability of his resources to absorb the loss of his home and furniture. Soon after his return from Washington he wrote to a friend: “I returned home with just ninety dollars in money, having expended all my salary and most of the proceeds of my cotton crop; found everything out of repair, corn and everything else to buy for the use of my farm; having but one tract of land besides my homestead, which I sacrificed and which has enabled me to begin the new year clear of debt, relying on our industry and economy to yield us a support, trusting to a kind providence for good seasons and a prosperous crop.” To another friend he wrote, complaining that he had to buy bacon for his family and also corn and oats for the stock—an unforgivable thing to a practical farmer. Furthermore, upon his return he found “the new roof of my house, just rebuilt, leaking and to be repaired.” Continuing he said: “I carried $5,000 when I went to Washington—it took all of my cotton crop ($2,250) with my salary, to bring me home. The burning of my house and furniture has left me poor.” A few days after his return he said: “I find my blooded stock in bad order and too numerous for empty corn cribs and hay lofts. I have determined to sell out part to enable me to feed the balance better.” In the spring of 1838, anticipating a needed vacation at a health resort during the approaching summer, he was trying to sell off some town lots he owned in Alabama, admitting frankly that unless he could sell the lots he would not have the means to make the desired trip to the springs. It was at this time that he wrote: “To wind up our debts since last spring we have paid upwards of $7,000. Andrew was inexperienced, and most men are likely to become swindlers when an opportunity offers, and he happened to fall into the hands of men who pretended to be friends and trusted too much to their honesty. But, thank God, we are not now in debt.”

But in the midst of his adversity we find him writing unselfishly to Andrew Jackson Donelson: “I heard you say that your means to buy corn was exhausted. Inclosed I send you half of my present means after paying for my corn, oats and fodder engaged. This half Eagle ought to buy you three barrels of corn. It will buy 20 bushels of oats, which will be better for your colts.”

V: THE GARDEN AND GROUNDS

Much of the sentimental interest attached to the Hermitage centers around the garden, that fenced-in acre to the east of the mansion house which was set aside by General Jackson for that purpose when the Hermitage was built in 1819. We know that the exact site of the house was carefully selected by his wife, and it is safe to assume that it was she also who picked out this particular spot for the garden.

A short time before the Hermitage was built the General, accompanied by Rachel, visited in Washington on official business; and on this occasion they made the pilgrimage to Mount Vernon. Jackson was obviously much impressed by his visit to the old home of George Washington, so much so that he left in his papers a written memorandum of his impressions aroused by his journey to what he described as “the venerable dwelling of the patriarch of our liberties.”

It is only a speculation, of course, but it is interesting to entertain the fancy that it was perhaps as a result of this visit that the old General, upon his return to Tennessee, decided to build for himself a home more in keeping with the dignity of the position he had attained as a national hero. Perhaps Rachel herself suggested it to him. She was proud of the General and the distinctions he had gained; maybe she put the thought in his head that the Hero of New Orleans ought not to be receiving his guests in a log house, that he should live in a little more style—something approaching the quiet dignity of Mount Vernon, which they both admired. A new house they should have—and, of course, by all means, a garden.

At any rate, we find in the old General’s memorandum of his Mount Vernon trip the following reference: “A neat little flower garden, laid out and trimmed with the utmost exactness, ornamented with green and hot houses in which flourish the most beautiful of the tropical plants, affords a happy relief to the solemn impressions produced by a view of the antique structure it adjoins, and leads you insensibly into the most delightful reverie, in which you review in imagination the manner in which the greatest and the best of men, after the most busy and eventful life, retired into privacy and amused the evening of his days.” And so, when the Hermitage mansion house was built in 1819, we find close by its side “a neat little flower garden, laid out and trimmed with the utmost exactness;” and, although it is difficult to picture the tempestuous old warrior puttering about a flower garden, his correspondence reveals that thoughts of it occupied a part of his attention throughout his lifetime, and contemporaries have recalled that he had more than the average man’s interest in the flowers, particularly admiring the roses and the pinks.

That the garden was no mere afterthought or casual incidental to the building of the house is shown by the fact that in 1819 he engaged, evidently for the task of laying it out and planting it, an English professional gardener named William Frost, reputed at that time to be one of the best gardeners in the metropolis of Philadelphia. The best was none too good for Rachel in those days.

During his long absence from home during his two terms as President, Jackson’s correspondence is liberally sprinkled with references to his garden. In all the great difficulty he experienced in obtaining the services of competent or satisfactory overseers, one of his criticisms of them was that they were derelict in their care of the garden—Rachel’s garden. And in May, 1835, when his son wrote him relative to the good conduct of the new overseer most recently engaged he replied: “How I am delighted to hear that the garden has regained its former appearance that it always possessed whilst your dear mother was living, and that just attention is now paid to her monument. This is truly pleasing to me, and precisely as it ought to be.”

In May, 1832, in a letter to his son’s young wife General Jackson wrote: “I sincerely regret the ravages made by the frost in the garden, and particularly that the willow by the gate is destroyed. This I wish you to replace. The willows around the tomb I hope are living, and a branch from one of these might replace the dead one at the garden gate. It will grow if well watered and planted on receipt of this.” But it didn’t grow—or else the youthful Sarah neglected to plant it; and it was not until 1925 that a member of the Ladies’ Hermitage Association ran across this letter of the General’s and decided that, better late than never, his wishes should be carried out. The willows at the tomb—the willows General Jackson had himself planted nearly a century before—are now dead and gone, probably crowded and shaded to death by the stately old magnolias that now guard the plot of graves. But a scion was taken from another willow on the place and today the young willow may be seen there at the garden gate, belatedly replacing the one destroyed by the late frost in the spring of 1832.

The garden plot occupies an acre of ground, surrounded by a high picket fence built of enduring Tennessee red cedar. The fence is of the old substantial type, constructed of pointed pickets mortised with precision into the horizontal sustaining members, and entrance is gained through an old-fashioned wooden gate, reached by a short brick walk from the door on the eastern side of the house.

Inside the garden, eight feet from the fence, the plot is encircled by a gravel walk about six feet wide, and similar bisecting walks cut the garden into four plots. In the center the walks converge on a geometrically designed system of concentric circular beds in which annuals bloom from year to year. Roses climb on the fence, and shrubbery is planted along the sides of the walks, the central portion of each of the four plots now being kept in grass. In the middle of the north side is the original brick tool house, the path to which is shaded by an old rustic rose arbor; and peeping out between the box bushes and crape myrtles may be seen an occasional moss rose or other old-fashioned plant.

We do not find here the hothouses with their tropical plants which the General and Rachel so much admired at Mount Vernon; but evidently an effort was made to introduce unusual shrubbery into the garden, for in addition to the customary plants found in a Southern garden of the period there are to be seen some of the more rare and exotic shrubs—fig trees brought from the far South, a pink magnolia from Japan, etc.

The planning and arrangement of the planting is such that it provides attractions the whole year round. There are flowers throughout the blooming season from early spring to late fall; then there are the brightly colored leaves of the bushes and trees; and during the winter there is the glossy green foliage of magnolias and the faintly scented box bushes beside the garden paths, the barrenness of the flower beds at that season being relieved by the sweet-scented winter honeysuckle which defies the seasons and blooms in December and January as though it were mid-summer. The Hermitage garden is never without its attractive features.

In early spring there is first the brilliant bloom of the English hawthorn, then the narcissi and tulips and hyacinths making the air heavy with their fragrance, also the jonquils and old-fashioned blue-bottles and purple shades. Crocuses and butter-and-eggs and, later, iris and peonies all combine to make the garden a springtime riot of bloom. So spectacularly do the peonies bloom that they always attract large crowds of visitors while they are in full flower, more than a thousand visitors having gone to the Hermitage garden in one day to witness the rare floral spectacle.

Interspersed with all the conventional plants and shrubs are some of the native wild flowers that bloom in the fields and along the river banks near by; for when the Hermitage garden was first planted the florist’s art had not reached its present peak of perfection, and although the thoughtful General sent home flower seeds from Philadelphia and Washington, Rachel took pleasure in augmenting the garden’s finery by selections from the surrounding country. Visitors may still see in the beds there the nodding Jacob’s ladder, the columbine and other such homely blossoms. The wild yucca, with its semi-tropical appearance, was brought in from some of the near-by cedar glades, along with prickly pear cacti and rock roses; and a graceful fringe tree was planted near the entrance gate.

In the beds in the center of the garden there have always grown tulips in the springtime and then some kind of annuals to sustain the succession of blooms through the summer. Early in June the great collection of ascension lilies begin to bloom, filling the garden with their perfume; and throughout the summer there are the roses, both in bush and climbing form, mostly of the old-fashioned varieties—moss roses, the yellow briar, maiden’s blush, Louis Phillippe, macrophylla, pink musk, etc.

The shrubbery also contributes its share of blossoms, from the golden bells, bridal wreath, snowballs and calacanthus of the spring through the altheas or Rose of Sharon of the summer, to the pink and red crape myrtles of the late summer which cap off their showy mass of blooms with a brilliantly colored array of scarlet leaves in the fall months.

The Hermitage garden offers some form of attraction at any season of the year.

During the early days of the Ladies’ Hermitage Association the wealth of bloom in the garden was turned to good account, especially in the spring. Then cuttings of jonquils and peonies, literally by the wagonload, were sent into Nashville and sold on the street; and there were also sales of seeds and cuttings and surplus bulbs, so that visitors might take away with them living mementoes of the Hermitage garden. From this source the association was able to derive a considerable and much-needed revenue at a time when funds were scarce and every dollar of income was welcome.

During his lifetime Uncle Alfred, who acted as a guide to visitors, always took especial interest in the garden and beamed with proprietary pride when visitors gave expression to their appreciation of its beauties. “Please do not pluck the flowers” says a conspicuous sign by the side of the gate; but if a visitor really seemed interested in the garden’s attractions the old retainer would slyly say: “Now if you like dat rosebud, I won’t see you if you gets it.”

Some idea of what the Hermitage garden looked like in the old days may be gathered from a description of it which was given in an interview printed in one of the Nashville papers several years ago with an old lady who had visited there with her father when she was a girl. Looking back down the vista of the years, she said:

The flower beds about the middle of the garden were there when the General lived there. He had an old negro, Alfred, to attend to the garden. They had a regular vegetable garden combined with the flower garden. The vegetable garden was not with the flower part of the garden, but you could see the vegetable garden when you stood in the flower garden or where the flowers were. They had cabbages, potatoes, beets, beans and squash and other vegetables in the vegetable part of the garden. They had sage and thyme around on the edge of the flower beds. They had in the flower beds hollyhocks, beds of pinks of all colors, rose bushes, tea roses, macrophylla and cinnamon roses, moss roses, white lilacs, tiger lilies, heliotrope (white and purple). Some of the beds were edged with sweet violets. There were poppies in some of the beds, and hyacinths and tulips. The Washington bower was on the side—on the fence and climbing up the trees in the garden—they were trees with long white flowers, locust trees I think. The garden was larger then than it is now—it was larger east and west than now and was fenced with a plank fence. There was a weeping willow there but I can’t locate it now. There was a large rope swing near the house and near to the entrance to the garden. It was tied to the limb of a hickory tree.

Continuing with her description of the garden this old lady spoke of two magnolia trees “about the middle of the garden near the tomb—good big trees” and in speaking further of the weeping willows stated that they were “just over the fence, near and opposite the tomb.” She also named more of the flowers that grew in the old garden: Several big bushes of crape myrtle; verbenas, all colors; sunflowers; all-colored flags—red, white and purple; snowballs; red, pink and white peonies; old-fashioned honeysuckle—coral, white and yellow, lilacs, white and purple. The “Washington bower” she describes as having a purple flower, so it was probably the large-flowering variety of clematis which was also known as the virgin bower. She also mentioned, in enumerating the shrubbery, “japonica bushes” which, she said, “has red blossoms and comes early and late;” and this, we may presume, was the flowering shrub known now as the English hawthorn and also called the fire-bush.

The garden as it stands today is just about as it was in the days when it bloomed and blossomed under Rachel’s tender care, except that the flowering shrubs and bushes have now attained the size and beauty gained only with the passing of the years. But it was not in any such condition as this that the Ladies’ Hermitage Association found it when they took charge. During the wartime occupation of the premises by the guard of Federal troops the garden was almost obliterated. Being fenced in and convenient to the house, it appealed to the cavalrymen as an ideal corral for their horses, and it was so used during the three years the Federal troops remained on the grounds. It is easy to imagine the damage done—and it is also easy to imagine Old Hickory’s devastating wrath if he had known that his government’s troops were so heedlessly desecrating Rachel’s flower garden.

After the war but little was done to repair the damage done by the soldiers’ horses. The fence was restored, and this kept out wandering stock and permitted the hardy shrubs to grow again; but the paths were overgrown with weeds, washed by the recurring rains, and in 1889 little trace of the old walkways remained except for the marginal brick borders. (These bricks, by the way, were especially designed and made for the purpose, being longer and thicker than ordinary bricks and also beveled at the top. They were manufactured on the place when the bricks were burned for the building of the big house, the depression in the ground where the clay was dug out for all the bricks being still visible in the extreme northwestern corner of the big wooded lot directly across the road from the front entrance to the Hermitage.)

In spite of the discouraging aspect of affairs in the garden when the ladies took over the property, however, the work of restoring it to its original beauty was valiantly attacked, and one of their very first activities was to engage a man to clear away the weeds and blackberry bushes and the volunteer elms and hickories, rebuild the paths and restore the garden to some semblance of its former appearance. The work of restoration has been carefully done, with a full appreciation of the importance of retaining the spirit and form of the original design and planting. A competent garden authority was retained to plan the work in later years, and there has been no effort to modernize or improve the garden—only a faithful determination to repair the ravages of time and present it to the visitor today just as it was when the General and Rachel were alive and wandered up and down its broad paths in admiration of its beauty.

The focal point of interest in the garden, of course, is the tomb in the southeast corner. When his beloved Rachel died in December, 1828, just on the eve of their departure for his first Presidential inauguration, the old General laid her away in the corner of the garden and, heavy-hearted, started off for Washington alone.

During the subsequent eight years, as the bitterly fought battles of partisan politics raged and surged about him in the nation’s capital, his heart remained buried in the garden at the Hermitage. In May, 1829, he wrote to the Rev. Hardy M. Cryer (that bizarre combination of devout Methodist preacher and horseman) saying: “In the day I am laboriously employed, and it is only when late in the night I retire to my chamber that I have time to think of or write to my friends. It is then that I feel the great weight of the late affliction of Providence in the bereavement I have been visited with in the loss of my dear wife; I find myself a solitary man, deprived of all hope of happiness this side the grave, and often with myself at the Hermitage, there to spend the remnant of my days and daily drop a tear on the tomb of my beloved wife and be prepared, when Providence wills it, to unite with her in the realm above.”

Due to the need for his immediate departure for Washington after the death of his wife, it was necessary that she be buried in a plain grave over which a temporary shelter was built. But it was never the General’s idea that her resting-place should go without a more elaborate monument; and even before he left the Hermitage in January, 1829, he began negotiations looking to the design and construction of what he described as a “monumental tomb.” A contract for the building of the tomb was given a Nashville contractor, D. Morrison; and Mr. Morrison designed a simple but impressive structure of classic Greek lines. It is built of stone, its dome-like top being supported by fluted stone columns and covered with copper. The structure is surrounded by a simple iron fence.

The inscription on Mrs. Jackson’s tomb is popularly supposed to have been written by the General himself. Mrs. Rachel Jackson Lawrence stated that it was written by Major Henry Lee, the talented though scapegrace Virginian who was Jackson’s secretary and a resident of the Hermitage at the time of Mrs. Jackson’s death. It has even been attributed to Major John M. Eaton. Whoever wrote it, it is a beautiful and moving tribute to the pioneer woman who occupied the central place in Andrew Jackson’s heart throughout his life:

Here lie the remains of Mrs. Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jackson, who died the 22nd of December, 1828, aged sixty-one years. Her face was fair, her person pleasing, her temper amiable, her heart kind. She delighted in relieving the wants of her fellow creatures and cultivated that divine pleasure by the most liberal and unpretending methods. To the poor she was a benefactor; to the rich an example; to the wretched a comforter; to the prosperous an ornament. Her piety went hand in hand with her benevolence, and she thanked her Creator for being permitted to do good. A being so gentle and so virtuous slander might wound but could not dishonor; even death, when he bore her from the arms of her husband, could but transport her to the bosom of her God.

In strong contrast to this eloquent eulogy is the Spartan simplicity of the old General’s own epitaph, certainly written by himself:

GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON
Born March 15, 1767
Died June 8, 1845