VIII.EMILY DONELSON.
Mrs. Emily Donelson, the accomplished mistress of the White House during General Jackson’s Presidential term, was the youngest child of Captain John Donelson, a man of sterling integrity and irreproachable character, perfect in all the relations of life, respected as a citizen, honored as a Christian, and beloved as a friend and neighbor. She was born in Davidson County, Tennessee, and educated at the Old Academy, in Nashville. Of rare personal loveliness and superior intellect, no expense or care was spared to fit her for the high position she was destined to fill in society. Though her childhood was spent in what was then called the “backwoods,” it was not passed in obscurity, for her close relationship with Mrs. Jackson, the public prominence of her near relations, Generals Smith, Coffee, and Hayes, and the great wealth and high standing of her father, early made her familiar with camps and crowds, and developed that courtly grace and ease of manner for which she was afterwards so pre-eminent. A host of suitors contended for the beautiful maiden’s hand, among whom were General Sam Houston, Col. Ephraim H. Foster, and Major Gustavus A. Henry; they always spoke of her as the “lovely Emily,” and delighted in expatiating on the charms of her mind and person.
At the early age of sixteen she was married to her cousin, Major Andrew J. Donelson, the protégé and confidential adviser of General Jackson. She was ever a fond and faithful wife, sharing the joys and triumphs of her husband, relieving his cares and sorrows, filling his home with peace and comfort, and his heart with happiness.
On General Jackson’s election to the Presidency, he appointed Major Donelson his private Secretary, and invited Mrs. Donelson to officiate as mistress of ceremonies at the Executive Mansion.
To settle a delicate question of precedence between Mrs. Jackson, jr., and Mrs. Donelson, who were both inmates of the President’s House and nieces of General Jackson, he said to Mrs. Jackson, “You, my dear, are mistress of the Hermitage, and Emily is hostess of the White House.” Both were satisfied with this decision, and ever afterward Mrs. Donelson occupied the first position in the President’s Mansion. This was a position that the elegance and refinement of the former mistresses of the mansion had invested with great respect; and Mrs. Donelson filled it as they had done, ever mindful of her dignity as a lady, and true to her duty as a wife and mother. In all that is lovely and noble in woman, she was the peer of her illustrious predecessors; and her tact and grace contributed much to render General Jackson’s term such a brilliant epoch in American history. It was a day of fierce party spirit; political animosity spared neither sex nor condition, yet the voice of detraction was never raised against her honored name. Friend and foe alike paid homage to her charms.
Mrs. Donelson was of medium height, with dark auburn hair, dark brown eyes, fair complexion, lips and brow exquisitely moulded, slender symmetrical figure, and hands and feet tiny as a child’s. Her portrait bears a striking resemblance to the pictures of Mary Queen of Scots. No stranger ever passes it without commenting on its singular fascination. Young, fond of society and pleased with attention, she entered with zest into the festivities of Washington, and participated in all its gayeties. Her taste in dress was exquisite, and her toilette was the envy and admiration of fashionable circles. The dress she wore at the first inauguration, an amber-colored satin, brocaded with bouquets of rosebuds and violets, and richly trimmed with white lace and pearls, was a present from the General, and was described in every paper of the Union. It is still preserved in the family, and even in this day of costly attire, would be a gala dress. Beloved as a daughter by Mrs. Jackson, and intimately associated with her for years, she was beside that honored and dear friend at the time of her death; and her tenderness and sympathy did much to mitigate the poignancy of the General’s bereavement. He always called her “my daughter;” and often when wearied with the cares of office, would seek relaxation amid her family circle. Arbiter in politics, he deferred all matters of etiquette to her; and when she would appeal to him to settle any knotty social point, he would reply, “You know best, my dear. Do as you please.” Of lively imagination, she was quick at repartee, and hadthat gift possessed by so few talkers, of listening gracefully. Thrown in contact with the brightest and most cultivated intellects of the day, she sustained her part; and her favor was eagerly sought by the learned and polished. A foreign minister once said to her, “Madam, you dance with the grace of a Parisian. I can hardly realize you were educated in Tennessee.” “Count, you forget,” was the spirited reply, “that grace is a cosmopolite, and like a wild flower, is much oftener found in the woods than in the streets of a city.”
During the Eaton controversy, the public was curious to see what course she would take. Her friends were also Mrs. Eaton’s friends, it was her policy to please General Jackson, and General Jackson’s heart was set on Mrs. Eaton’s social recognition. At the public receptions and levees, she received Mrs. Eaton with her usual dignity and courtesy; but when the General asked her to visit that lady, and set the example of public recognition of his favorite, she refused decidedly, saying, “Uncle, I will do anything on earth for you, consistent with my dignity as a lady, but I cannot and will not visit any one of Mrs. Eaton’s reputation.” She carried her point, and the President never alluded to the distasteful subject again in her presence.[14]
14. Mr. Eaton was the Secretary of War, and Mrs. Eaton, with whose name scandal was rife, was ignored by the wives of the Cabinet officers as well as by the generality of ladies in Washington. The Secretary was an old and intimate friend of the President’s, and his sympathy was enlisted on Mrs. Eaton’s side of the quarrel, but without avail, so far as securing her social recognition was concerned.
14. Mr. Eaton was the Secretary of War, and Mrs. Eaton, with whose name scandal was rife, was ignored by the wives of the Cabinet officers as well as by the generality of ladies in Washington. The Secretary was an old and intimate friend of the President’s, and his sympathy was enlisted on Mrs. Eaton’s side of the quarrel, but without avail, so far as securing her social recognition was concerned.
Mrs. Donelson’s four children were all born at the White House, and their earliest reminiscences are ofthe East Room, levees, state dinners, and processions. General Jackson made their christenings occasions of great ceremony. He was god-father of two of them, Mr. Van Buren of another, and General Polk of the youngest. General Jackson was very fond of these little ones, and took a grandfather’s interest in all their plays and games. The White House has probably never had a more charming tableau than that presented by the old hero, surrounded by the lovely family group, of which he was the soul and idol. Of Mrs. Donelson’s children, only her two daughters are now living. Her two sons passed away in the spring-time of life. They were young men of great promise, superior intellect, and high social standing. Andrew, the eldest, was captain of engineers in the United States army, and died of consumption in 1859. John was captain in the Confederate service, and fell in the battle of Chickamauga, fighting bravely in defence of the cause he had espoused.
In the spring of 1836, Mrs. Donelson’s health became so delicate that she concluded to leave Washington and go home to Tennessee, hoping, in the quiet and seclusion of her beautiful home (Tulip Grove) soon to regain her health and strength. But her symptoms grew more alarming, and it soon became evident that consumption had marked her for its victim. The scene changes now from the gay festivities of Washington to the loneliness and suffering of the sick-room. The hectic flush and wasting form marked the rapid progress of the insidious disease, and thoughts of death became familiar. Thoughso young and gay, she bore her suffering with the patience and fortitude of an angel, and submitted without a murmur to the decree that tore her away from husband, children and friends. Shortly before her death, she made a public profession of religion, and connected herself with the Presbyterian Church. Every resource of medical skill and experience was tried to stay the course of her disease, but in vain; and in December her spirit passed from earth. Her death was as peaceful and hopeful as her life had been loving and happy. Always a fond and proud mother, as the time drew near for a final separation from her children, she clung to them with a tenderness and devotion touching to behold. A few evenings before her death, she was sitting at an open window, admiring the beauty of a winter sunset, when a bird entered, and flying several times around the room, alighted on her chair. One of her little children, playing by her side, made some exclamation and tried to catch it. “Don’t disturb it, darling,” said the dying mother, “maybe it comes to bid me prepare for my flight to another world. I leave you here, but the Heavenly Father, who shelters and provides for this poor little bird this wintry day, will also watch over and take care of you all when I am gone. Don’t forget mamma; love her always, and try to live so that we may all meet again in heaven.” Ere the week closed, her chair was vacant; earth had lost one of its noblest, purest spirits, but heaven had gained an angel.
“Lovely, bright, youthful, chaste as morning dew,She sparkled, was exhaled and went to heaven.”
“Lovely, bright, youthful, chaste as morning dew,She sparkled, was exhaled and went to heaven.”
“Lovely, bright, youthful, chaste as morning dew,She sparkled, was exhaled and went to heaven.”
“Lovely, bright, youthful, chaste as morning dew,
She sparkled, was exhaled and went to heaven.”