Chapter 16

“Josiah Nichol, Chairman.

“December 23d.”

The city authorities also passed suitable resolutions, the last of which reads as follows:

“Resolved, That the inhabitants of Nashville are respectfully invited to abstain from their ordinary business on to-morrow, as a mark of respect for Mrs. Jackson, and that the church bells be tolled from one until two o’clock, being the hour of her funeral.”

These proceedings were signed by Felix Robertson, Mayor, and attested by E. Dibbrell, Recorder.

About a fortnight before her death, she remarked to a friend, that although she had lived with Mr. Jackson nearly forty years, there had never an unkind word passed between them, and the only subject on which they ever differed, or where there was the slightest opposition, was his acceptance of appointments when conferred upon him; she being always unwilling for him to enter upon public life. Such was the woman whom General Jackson was called upon to separate from, at a moment of all others the most trying.

Although the weather was unfavorable, her friends assembled from every point, to pay the last tribute of respect to one who could befriend them no more. Every vehicle in Nashville, and there were more at that day than now, in proportion to the population, was put in requisition. The road to the Hermitage had not been macadamized, and it was, consequently, at that season of the year almost impassable; yet an immense number of persons attended the funeral.

When the hour of interment drew near, the General, who had not left the beloved remains, was informed that it was time to perform the last sad rites. The scene that then ensued is beyond description. There was no heart that did not ache, no eye that did not weep. Many of the officers present, who had shared with the General his difficulties and dangers; who had seen him in the most trying situations; who had eyed him when his gallant soldiers were suffering for food to sustain life, and he unable to relieve them; who had witnessed himon the battle-field, when the wounded and the dying were brought before him, and every muscle seemed moved, and his very frame agonized with sorrow; yet had seen no suffering, however poignant or excessive, affect the General like this great affliction. When he bade his final adieu to the last kindred link that bound him to earth, his Roman fortitude seemed for a time to be completely overcome. It was a soul-rending sight to see an old veteran, whose head was whitened by the hardships he had endured for his country, bending over the lifeless form of an affectionate wife, whose death was hastened by the cruelty of those whose rights he had so nobly defended. By a muscular and almost superhuman effort, he endeavored to check the current of his grief; and, waving his hand to the afflicted company, begged them to weep no more. “I know,” said he, “it is unmanly, but these tears were due to her virtues. She shed many for me.” But one wish pervaded the assembly, that the individuals who had hastened this scene by their relentless attacks on an unoffending woman, could be brought to witness the saddest spectacle that any present had ever beheld.

But they were not there to witness the effects of their calumnies. She was dead, and they were vanquished. Ever after that funeral, his opponents complained that his personal feelings were allowed to govern his public acts, and that to be suspected by him of having believed aught of slander against his wife, was the unpardonable crime which he never forgave. Brave old Hero! howdeathless was the feeling which to the latest hour of his life displayed the strength made manifest from its inception! Silent and grave he was on the subject, but forgetfulness or indifference did not occasion such a course of action, as too many found to their sorrow. A dangerous look in his flashing eye satisfied any one of the sacred ground, and few braved his anger by recalling an unpleasant recollection connected with her. The inhumanity of the world robbed him of his treasure, and darkened his life, but while he lived her name was a hallowed sound breathed in the darkened recesses of his bruised and lonely heart, which cheered him on to the portals of the tomb through which she had passed to immortality.

The dear remains were interred in a corner of the Hermitage garden; and thither the afflicted General was supported by General Coffee and Major Rutledge. The following gentlemen were pall-bearers: Governor Sam Houston, Col. Ephraim H. Foster, Col. George Wilson, Gen. Robert Armstrong, Col. Sam. B. Marshall, Col. Allen, Mr. Solomon Clark, and Major G. W. Campbell.

A resident of Nashville, writing to his brother in Philadelphia, said: “Such a scene I never wish to witness again. I never pitied any person more in my life than General Jackson. I never before saw so much affliction among servants on the death of a mistress. Some seemed completely stupefied by the event; others wrung their hands and shrieked aloud. The woman that had waited on Mrs. Jackson had to be carried off the ground. After the funeral, the General came up to me and shookmy hand. Some of the gentlemen mentioning my name, he again caught my hand, and squeezed it three times, but all he could utter was ‘Philadelphia.’ I shall never forget his look of grief.”

Through the kindness of Sarah Jackson, the widow of General Jackson’s adopted son, I am in possession of a book compiled by Mr. Earl, under the direction of the General himself, entitled in gilt letters on the back, “Obituary Notices of Mrs. Jackson.” It contains the funeral card before mentioned; a great number of eulogies taken from the papers of the day; innumerable paragraphs expressive of respect and sympathy; and a synopsis of the funeral sermon, in manuscript. It was preached by the Reverend William Hume, of Nashville, and has never heretofore been published. It will be found interesting, not only as the funeral discourse of so eminent a lady, but as a specimen of a sermon delivered forty years ago, in a country so undeveloped as Tennessee was in those days.

“The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance.”Psalm cxii., 6th verse.

“The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance.”

Psalm cxii., 6th verse.

“These words might be applied to that venerable matron, with much propriety, as she gave every reasonable evidence that she was among the righteous. Indeed, as her name is indissolubly connected with that of the President of the United States, it shall be held in remembrance while the page of history displays the memorable actions of General Jackson. The words ofthe Psalmist, however, are applicable to her in a much nobler sense.

“The death of this worthy lady is much deplored, not only by her distinguished husband and immediate relations, but by a large majority of the people of the United States of America. Her character was so well known to multitudes who visited the Hermitage, the abode of hospitality, that the following remarks will readily be acknowledged as true:

“With respect to her religious principles, they were such as are held sound by all religious denominations that are commonly called evangelical. Convinced of the depravity of human nature, as taught in the Holy Scriptures, she relied on the Spirit of God alone, to illuminate, renovate and purify that nature that it might be qualified for the unspotted society of heaven. Believing with the inspired Paul, that by the works of the law, no flesh can be justified in the sight of God, her dependence for eternal life was placed on the merits and mediation of Jesus. Fully persuaded that the law is holy and the commandment holy, and that God will not acquit the sinner from condemnation, in a way that will conceal the dignity of His government, the purity of His nature, the truth of His threatening, or the glory of His unchangeable justice, she derived all her hope of acceptance with God from Him who ‘bore our sins in His own body on the tree; who suffered, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God.’

“While, however, her whole dependence for acceptancewith God was founded upon the atonement of the Son of God, through whom grace reigns unto eternal life, she knew that this doctrine did not tend to immorality. She was taught by Paul that holiness is always inseparably connected with this dependence on the merits of the Saviour, and that every motive to holiness arising from interest or gratitude or the pleasures of religion remains in full force; she therefore abounded in good works. Assured by the infallible testimony of her Lord and Master, that every branch of the true vine, as it derives its verdure, beauty, vigor, and sap from the vine is fruitful, she, a genuine branch, was so too. In acts of piety, as adoration, thanksgiving and praise, she took delight. Her seat was seldom empty in the house of God. Though very often surrounded with company from every State in the Union, neither she nor her illustrious husband neglected the house of God on that account. The tears of genuine penitence were often shed by her in the temple of the Lord. She had a tender and a feeling heart, and sometimes I have seen the tears bedewing her cheeks while she was speaking of the dangerous condition of those around her, who seemed to be entirely careless about a future state. Indeed, her devotional spirit was manifest in all her conduct. She meditated on the wonders of redeeming love with much delight, as the source of her present joy and future hope of glory. Indeed, her piety was acknowledged by all who knew her, as it manifested itself by the most unequivocal proofs; a reverential awe, a supremelove and profound veneration for the incomparable excellences of God, and a cordial gratitude to Him as the source of all her mercies. Her love to God was displayed by an unusual obedience to His commands and by an humble submission to His providence.

“As a wife, connected with one who stood so high in the estimation of his fellow-citizens, she was, as a Christian, exposed to some peculiar temptations; for who can resist the fascinations of honor and of power? While she rejoiced in the honor of a nation of freemen spontaneously given to a husband so dear to her heart, yet no unbecoming elation of mind, no haughtiness, no overbearing conduct, could ever be seen, even by an inimical eye, in this amiable lady. She was adorned with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, in an eminent degree. Esteem and affection were so mixed in her bosom for her husband, that her respectful behavior to him, in her house and among her connections and acquaintances, struck every beholder as the soft impulse of the sweetness of her disposition; so that by her kindness and affability, her husband was more happy in his own family than in the midst of his triumphs. In consequence of her amiable manners, his own house was the chief place of his enjoyment.

“The tears and lamentations of the servants are proofs of the most unequivocal kind of her excellence as the mistress of her household. Never did children seem to mourn more sincerely for a mother than the household servants lament for her. The cordial regardof her servants may well be attributed to the gentleness of her commands, the calmness of her temper, and her tenderness in treating them in health and in sickness. She was, indeed, a mother to her family.

“The widow and the orphan will long lament the death of Mrs. Jackson. In the circle of the widows and orphans her benevolence accompanied with the most substantial acts of beneficence, shone with distinguished splendor. To her the words of Job may be properly applied: ‘When the ear heard her, then it blessed her; and when the eye saw her, it gave witness to her, because she delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon her, and she caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy. She put on righteousness, and it clothed her. Her judgment was a robe and a diadem. She was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame, and a mother to the poor.’ Blest with affluence, she had a heart to feel and a hand to relieve the poor and the needy. She viewed the bounties of Providence not only to refresh herself and her family, but as designed by her Benefactor to flow in channels leading to the doors of those who were perishing of thirst, that they, also, might quaff and be satisfied.

“Some, indeed, during the Presidential struggle, with unfeeling hearts and unjustifiable motives, exerted all their powers to throw her numerous virtues into the shade. It was, no doubt, the intention of the defamers to arouse the indignation of her husband that he mightperpetrate some act to prevent his elevation to that high station to which the American people resolved that he should be raised. Under this cruel treatment Mrs. Jackson displayed the temper of a disciple of Him who was meek and lowly of heart. Her meekness was conspicuous under all the injuries and provocations which were designed to provoke and exasperate her. Seldom, indeed, has the busy tongue of slander and detraction been more gratuitously and basely employed; never was it put to silence with more helplessness and confusion than in the case of this amiable and pious lady. Influenced by the religion that she professed, she restrained all immoderate sallies of passion and harsh language on that trying occasion. She felt, indeed, the injustice of the warfare. Her compassionate heart was wrung with sorrow. Her tears flowed, but there was no malevolence in her bosom. She could have received no pleasure in giving pain to her detractors. Confiding in God, that He would bring forth her righteousness as the light, and her salvation as a lamp that burneth, she was not disappointed.

“She was permitted to live until the people of America, by their unbiased suffrage, asserted their full conviction of her innocence in a manner calculated to shame and confound the most furious and unprincipled of her defamers. Yes, she lived to see every cloud of calumny blown away by the united breath of the American people; and found herself and her beloved husband in the enjoyment of an unclouded sky, favored withthe smiles and the esteem of a people uninfluenced by detractors and qualified to form their own opinions.

“While we cordially sympathize with the President of the United States, in the irreparable loss he has sustained in the death of his amiable lady, whom he deemed so worthy, as he said, of our tears; we, from our long acquaintance with Mrs. Jackson, and our many opportunities of seeing her virtues displayed, cannot doubt but that she now dwells in the mansions of glory in company with the ransomed of the Lord, singing the praises of that Saviour whom she loved and served while she was a pilgrim on earth. In heaven, she drinks of the pure stream of the river of life, issuing from the throne of God and of the Lamb.”

Various newspapers, and among them, theMercuryof Philadelphia, clothed their columns in the badge of mourning; which was “alike merited,” says theMercury, “by his services and fame and her virtues and piety.”

The ladies of Abingdon, Virginia, met and entered into resolutions to transmit to General Jackson a letter “assuring him of the sincere regard they bore the character and person of his deceased lady, and the sorrow they feel at his afflictive bereavement,” and also to wear mourning badges on their dresses for thirty days. The following is a copy of the letter of condolence to General Jackson:

“January 5th, 1829.

“Dear Sir: We have heard, with the deepest sorrow,of your late afflictive bereavement in the death of your truly pious and amiable wife; and we have met to mingle our tears with yours for the irreparable loss you have sustained. To weep on such an occasion is not blamable; it is but a becoming tribute to departed worth; yet, at the same time, we should bow with submission to the will of Him who ‘gives and who takes away at his pleasure.’ She has gone, we trust, to those mansions ‘where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest,’ where the voice of malice cannot reach her or the tongue of calumny disturb her.

“On such an occasion, when religion is deprived of one of its brightest ornaments, and society of one of its most valuable members, we consider it our duty to offer to her memory the tribute of esteem which is due to her worth; and to give you, Sir, our sincerest condolence for this late afflictive dispensation. At the same time, we offer our fervent prayer to the Almighty disposer of human events, that your administration of the high office to which you have lately been elected may be as wise and happy as your military career was brilliant and successful.

“Sarah P. Preston.”

This effusion expressive of womanly feeling does infinite credit to the highly esteemed authoress. She was a daughter of General William Campbell, who so gloriously commanded the Virginia militia, and afterwards a gallant corps in the battle of Guilford Court House, who,in the language of the historian, were “the first engaged and the last to quit.”

The Board of Mayor and Aldermen of Knoxville, Tennessee, unanimously adopted a preamble and resolutions in regard to the death of Mrs. Jackson. Joseph C. Strong was Mayor, and William Swan, Recorder. Colonel Jacobs offered the paper, and we annex the resolutions:

“Resolved, That while we deeply regret the death of Mrs. Jackson, we cannot but express our gratitude to the Supreme Governor of the universe, that she was not taken from time to eternity until the people of the Union had given a clear and distinct manifestation of the high estimation in which they held the reputation of herself and husband.

“Resolved, That in consequence of the death of Mrs. Jackson, the Mayor be directed to request the Rev. Thomas H. Nelson to preach a sermon suitable to the occasion, in the First Presbyterian Church, at eleven o’clockA. M., on Thursday, the first day of January next.

“Resolved, That the inhabitants of Knoxville be respectfully requested to attend church, and abstain from their ordinary business on Thursday, the first day of January next, as a tribute of respect to the memory of the deceased. Dec. 29th, 1828.”

In accordance with the request contained in the second resolution, the Reverend Thomas H. Nelson preached a funeral sermon on Thursday the first day of January, 1829.

The Common Council of the city of New York passed resolutions of condolence to mark their “deference for her domestic virtues, her benevolence and her piety.” An authenticated copy of these resolutions was forwarded to General Jackson.

A public gathering assembled at the Vine Street Meeting House, Cincinnati, Ohio; at which a very large committee was appointed to draft resolutions which they did, in honor of “a lady in whom by universal consent, the practical charities of the heart were gracefully blended with the purest and most unaffected piety.”

On the 8th of January, throughout the country, instead of the customary firing of cannon commemorative of the day, a solemn silence was maintained, as a token of respect for the deceased. At various public dinners on that day, Mrs. Jackson’s death was alluded to in the most gentle and sympathetic terms. As an illustration of the tone and spirit of these allusions, we copy the following. At Boston, this toast was offered by S. Fessenden, Esq.: “The memory of Mrs. Jackson—sadness to our joy, but for the bright hope that the event which hath wrought for him whose praise we celebrate a cypress chaplet, hath introduced her whose memory we revere and whose death we deplore, to a crown of unfading glory.”

In New Orleans the following toast was offered: “The memory of Mrs. Jackson—an example of piety, benevolence, and every Christian virtue. ‘The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue.’”

In Nashville, Captain Parrish presented this—“The memory of Mrs. Jackson.”

In Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, at the celebration of the members of the Legislature, the following toast was drunk:—“The memory of Mrs. Jackson—the amiable wife of the slandered hero. The grave now shrouds her mortal remains, but her virtues will shine in brilliant purity, when her unprincipled slanderers are lost to the memory of man.”

A touching reference to the sad event was made in the House of Representatives by the Hon. Pryor Lea, of the Tennessee Delegation.

And so hundreds of pages of eulogies published in every section of the Republic might be copied.

Many pieces of poetry mourning the death of Mrs. Jackson appeared in the papers, one of which, from theCincinnati Advertiser, is subjoined:

MONODYON THE DEATH OF MRS. JACKSON.“As wintry blasts succeed the summer’s bloom,And summer suns give place to winter’s gloom;As to morn’s radiance o’er creation spread,The night succeeds, when every ray is fled;Or as the heart, but erst with joy elate,To sorrow turns beneath some stroke of fate;So a joy’d nation Fate has bid to turnIts smiles of joy to tears o’er Virtue’s urn.Sacred the numbers breathed in Virtue’s name.Dear still to goodness, if unknown to fame.Be thine the grateful task, O humble muse(Virtue’s thy theme, and thou canst ne’er refuse),Be thine the task that goodness to deplore,Which Death, relentless, bids to be no more;To sing th’ unspotted life, unknown to blame.But every virtue dear to woman’s name;The meek-eyed charity, the guileless heart,The long enduring under sorrow’s smart;The ready friend to comfort in distress;The hand as willing as the heart to bless;The every charm exalted virtue lends,Conferring blessings as its means extends;The mind sincere, unknown to pious guile;Which ne’er deceit, dishonest, could defile,But still intent religion to obey,And as she taught its precepts, led the way;To all its active impulses awake,And virtuous only for fair virtue’s sake.“Scarce was the contest o’er, the victory won,Mysterious Fate! But half thy will was done.From that first hour a nation made its choiceOf him in whose great name its sons rejoice,From the first hour the grateful news was hailed,Even from that hour her gentle spirit failed.While o’er the land loud peals of triumph rang,Her milder nature felt the mortal pangWhich still protracted, nought availed to saveHer suffering nature from an honored grave.“Eternal Providence! Whate’er thy ways,’Tis still our duty to adore and praise.Lo, the bright virtues from her earliest time,Which souls ungenerous slandered into crime.Lo, her loved husband’s fame, by foes assailed,Impotent still. And while each effort failed,Behold them turn with most dishonest arts,Against domestic Peace their venomed darts.Nor sex, nor purity, nor honored ageCould save them from the shafts of blinded rage.Yet she but lived to triumph and to seeHer fame proved pure as ’twas designed to be,When Nature, in her great and high behest,Formed, of her daughters, her among the best.Yet shall her cherished memory long endure,To still assuage the grief it may not cure.As when the glorious sun retires to rest,He leaves a golden twilight in the west,Where the mild radiance of his thousand raysIllumes the skies and gladdens every gaze;So the remembrance of her virtues dearShall o’er the hearts of those who loved her hereShed the mild radiance of that tranquil joy,Which death, nor fate, nor ill can e’er destroy.”

MONODY

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. JACKSON.

“As wintry blasts succeed the summer’s bloom,And summer suns give place to winter’s gloom;As to morn’s radiance o’er creation spread,The night succeeds, when every ray is fled;Or as the heart, but erst with joy elate,To sorrow turns beneath some stroke of fate;So a joy’d nation Fate has bid to turnIts smiles of joy to tears o’er Virtue’s urn.Sacred the numbers breathed in Virtue’s name.Dear still to goodness, if unknown to fame.Be thine the grateful task, O humble muse(Virtue’s thy theme, and thou canst ne’er refuse),Be thine the task that goodness to deplore,Which Death, relentless, bids to be no more;To sing th’ unspotted life, unknown to blame.But every virtue dear to woman’s name;The meek-eyed charity, the guileless heart,The long enduring under sorrow’s smart;The ready friend to comfort in distress;The hand as willing as the heart to bless;The every charm exalted virtue lends,Conferring blessings as its means extends;The mind sincere, unknown to pious guile;Which ne’er deceit, dishonest, could defile,But still intent religion to obey,And as she taught its precepts, led the way;To all its active impulses awake,And virtuous only for fair virtue’s sake.

“As wintry blasts succeed the summer’s bloom,

And summer suns give place to winter’s gloom;

As to morn’s radiance o’er creation spread,

The night succeeds, when every ray is fled;

Or as the heart, but erst with joy elate,

To sorrow turns beneath some stroke of fate;

So a joy’d nation Fate has bid to turn

Its smiles of joy to tears o’er Virtue’s urn.

Sacred the numbers breathed in Virtue’s name.

Dear still to goodness, if unknown to fame.

Be thine the grateful task, O humble muse

(Virtue’s thy theme, and thou canst ne’er refuse),

Be thine the task that goodness to deplore,

Which Death, relentless, bids to be no more;

To sing th’ unspotted life, unknown to blame.

But every virtue dear to woman’s name;

The meek-eyed charity, the guileless heart,

The long enduring under sorrow’s smart;

The ready friend to comfort in distress;

The hand as willing as the heart to bless;

The every charm exalted virtue lends,

Conferring blessings as its means extends;

The mind sincere, unknown to pious guile;

Which ne’er deceit, dishonest, could defile,

But still intent religion to obey,

And as she taught its precepts, led the way;

To all its active impulses awake,

And virtuous only for fair virtue’s sake.

“Scarce was the contest o’er, the victory won,Mysterious Fate! But half thy will was done.From that first hour a nation made its choiceOf him in whose great name its sons rejoice,From the first hour the grateful news was hailed,Even from that hour her gentle spirit failed.While o’er the land loud peals of triumph rang,Her milder nature felt the mortal pangWhich still protracted, nought availed to saveHer suffering nature from an honored grave.

“Scarce was the contest o’er, the victory won,

Mysterious Fate! But half thy will was done.

From that first hour a nation made its choice

Of him in whose great name its sons rejoice,

From the first hour the grateful news was hailed,

Even from that hour her gentle spirit failed.

While o’er the land loud peals of triumph rang,

Her milder nature felt the mortal pang

Which still protracted, nought availed to save

Her suffering nature from an honored grave.

“Eternal Providence! Whate’er thy ways,’Tis still our duty to adore and praise.Lo, the bright virtues from her earliest time,Which souls ungenerous slandered into crime.Lo, her loved husband’s fame, by foes assailed,Impotent still. And while each effort failed,Behold them turn with most dishonest arts,Against domestic Peace their venomed darts.Nor sex, nor purity, nor honored ageCould save them from the shafts of blinded rage.Yet she but lived to triumph and to seeHer fame proved pure as ’twas designed to be,When Nature, in her great and high behest,Formed, of her daughters, her among the best.Yet shall her cherished memory long endure,To still assuage the grief it may not cure.As when the glorious sun retires to rest,He leaves a golden twilight in the west,Where the mild radiance of his thousand raysIllumes the skies and gladdens every gaze;So the remembrance of her virtues dearShall o’er the hearts of those who loved her hereShed the mild radiance of that tranquil joy,Which death, nor fate, nor ill can e’er destroy.”

“Eternal Providence! Whate’er thy ways,

’Tis still our duty to adore and praise.

Lo, the bright virtues from her earliest time,

Which souls ungenerous slandered into crime.

Lo, her loved husband’s fame, by foes assailed,

Impotent still. And while each effort failed,

Behold them turn with most dishonest arts,

Against domestic Peace their venomed darts.

Nor sex, nor purity, nor honored age

Could save them from the shafts of blinded rage.

Yet she but lived to triumph and to see

Her fame proved pure as ’twas designed to be,

When Nature, in her great and high behest,

Formed, of her daughters, her among the best.

Yet shall her cherished memory long endure,

To still assuage the grief it may not cure.

As when the glorious sun retires to rest,

He leaves a golden twilight in the west,

Where the mild radiance of his thousand rays

Illumes the skies and gladdens every gaze;

So the remembrance of her virtues dear

Shall o’er the hearts of those who loved her here

Shed the mild radiance of that tranquil joy,

Which death, nor fate, nor ill can e’er destroy.”

Until a few days before his death, the General wore always around his neck and hidden in his bosom a miniature of Mrs. Jackson, on the back of which is a pretty little wreath made of his and her hair. The chain to which it is attached is curiously wrought of black beads intermingled with a flower-work of bright gold ones, into which these words are skilfully introduced: “Presented to General Andrew Jackson as a token of esteem, from Caledonia M. Gibson. May blessings crown thy hoary head.” Every night he placed this miniature on a little table by his bedside, leaning against his Bible, with the beloved face towards him, so that the kind, familiar smile should be his first greeting when he waked. His granddaughter, now Mrs. Lawrence, bears the honored name of his wife, Rachel Jackson, and was an especial favorite of his. His eyes were often fixed upon her during his last illness with peculiar interest and affection. One morning within a few days of his death, when she cameto bid him good-bye, before starting to the city to school, he threw the chain around her neck and asked her to wear, for his sake, the miniature he had loved and worn so long.

In a corner of the garden at the Hermitage there is a simple elegant monument raised over the vault in which lie the remains of General Jackson and his wife. The steps run around the circular area, eighteen feet across. From this platform spring eight fluted columns of the Doric order, surmounted by a handsome entablature supporting the dome, which is crowned with a funereal urn. On the interior, a plain cornice of vaulted ceiling, stuccoed in white, gives an air of purity and comeliness, well suited to a tomb. From the centre of the platform rises a pyramid on a square base. On the floor, on each side of this pyramid, lie the tablets which contain the inscriptions. The one on the left is the General’s, which bears only his name, and the record of his birth and death. The hand of an undying affection has covered the other with a long and tender testimony to her worth. It runs thus:

“Here lie the remains of Mrs. Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jackson, who died the 22d of December, 1828, aged 61. Her face was fair, her person pleasing, her temper amiable, and 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, tothe 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 yet so virtuous, slander might wound but could not dishonor. Even death, when he tore her from the arms of her husband, could but transport her to the bosom of her God.”

Here in the freshness and greenness of the garden they planted, surrounded with climbing vines and fragrant blooms, the General and his beloved wife sleep their last sweet sleep. Across a garden path lie the remains of Mr. Earl, the artist, “friend and companion of General Andrew Jackson.” Beside him lies Andrew Jackson, the adopted son of the General; and near are two of his infant sons, and a grown son, Samuel, who fell in battle.

General Jackson survived his wife more than sixteen years, and, unto the end, his love for her burned as brightly as in the hey-day of his youth. Though aged and suffering greatly, he was remarkably energetic and kept up his correspondence with his old and dear friends. The last letter that he ever wrote, only two days before his death, was addressed to the Hon. Mr. Polk, President of the United States, expressing confidence in his judgment and ability to guard well and truly the interests of his country.

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