The Life of Andrew Jackson

by Robert V. Remini

She lived in hope that her third child would someday become a Presbyterian minister but she slowly abandoned that hope as she watched him grow into a hot-tempered young man who frequently unleashed a torrent of foul language whenever his passions were aroused. Young Andrew could flood a room with bloodcurdling oaths that frightened his listeners half to death. Indeed, he was so good at terrorizing those around him by his language and actions that throughout his life he frequently exploded in rage to scare his victims into doing what he wanted, even though his rage was completely feigned.

The years of deprivation in several forms (a missing father, possible humiliation in accepting charity from relatives, and the subsequent deaths of his brothers and mother leaving him orphaned at the age of thirteen, to mention only the most obvious) probably provoked this hostility.

He eventually grew to six feet and he remained slender—even cadaverous—all his life. Until the very end of his life when he became unnaturally bloated from his various diseases, Andrew Jackson never weighed more than 145 pounds.

At one point the officer in command of the dragoons ordered Andrew to clean his boots, an order the lad instantly rejected. “Sir,” he supposedly cried, “I am a prisoner of war, and claim to be treated as such.”24 Outraged, the officer lifted his sword and aimed it straight at Andrew’s head. The boy instinctively ducked and threw up his left hand in time to break the full force of the blow. Even so, he received a deep gash on his head and fingers, the marks of which he carried through life.

Of the two sick boys, Robert was clearly critical. He could neither stand nor sit on horseback without support. So Elizabeth procured two horses, strapped the dying Robert on one and rode the other herself. Poor Andrew had to walk the forty-five miles home barefoot and without a jacket. On the last leg of the journey a driving rain drenched them. Somehow, with a will born of desperation, Elizabeth got her children home. Two days later Robert was dead and Andrew in mortal danger. For days the boy was delirious. But the devotion and nursing skill of his mother eventually brought him around, although it was a slow recovery and stretched over several months. Then, when Andrew seemed finally out of danger, Elizabeth decided to go to Charleston, a distance of 160 miles, to nurse prisoners of war held in prison ships in the harbor, among whom were two of her nephews. She contracted cholera in Charleston while tending the sick aboard the prison ships and died shortly after her arrival.

Residents of the town later remembered that “Andrew Jackson was the most roaring, rollicking, game-cocking, horse-racing, card-playing, mischievous fellow that ever lived in Salisbury.”29 He did not trouble himself with devouring law books, it was said, because he “was more in the stable than in the office.”

On another occasion he and his comrades-in-mischief were celebrating in a tavern and suddenly decided that the glasses used in their celebration should never be profaned by future use. So, with a flourish, they smashed them on the floor. And if the glasses, why not the table? Away went the table, shattered beyond repair. Next the chairs were demolished, then the bed. Finally the curtains were torn and piled into a heap. To conclude the ceremonies the entire mess was set ablaze.

Shortly after he arrived in Jonesborough he purchased a female slave, Nancy, aged eighteen or twenty.

This first known duel says something important about Andrew Jackson. Obviously he was a hothead, and sensitive about his honor and reputation. As a gentleman, ambitious for recognition and acceptance, he understood his duty when he considered himself insulted. At the same time he was not trigger-happy, oblivious to the possibility that he might get himself killed or severely wounded. He was not an expert shot by any means, nor could he. discount Avery’s shooting ability. Thus, when a sensible solution was proposed by which his honor could be repaired and a possible danger avoided, Jackson quickly accepted it. Despite his temper and hotheadedness, he was always a cautious man, open to any legitimate compromise when it suited his interest. Not that he was incapable of a genuine duel with intent to kill, but the circumstances and his self-interest would have to be of greater concern than his testy verbal exchange with Avery.

Jackson was arrested and ordered to appear in court. Guards were summoned from the blockhouse to make certain the troublemaker obeyed the arrest order. Robards trailed behind them. As they went, Jackson suddenly asked one of the guards for his butcher knife. It was given him after he pledged his honor to do no harm with it. Whereupon Jackson ran his finger along the cutting edge of the weapon and lightly touched the sharp point, periodically glancing at Robards as he stroked the knife to see if the husband understood his meaning. In a flash Robards dashed for the canebrake, Jackson at his heels. After a few moments the prisoner reappeared alone and proceeded with his guard to the magistrate. But, since the complainant had failed to appear, the warrant was dismissed.

His persistence so infuriated these men that one of them walked up to him one day and to vent his anger deliberately stepped on Jackson’s foot. Without batting an eye, Jackson picked up a piece of wood and calmly knocked the man out cold.

Such are the “facts” surrounding the marriage that were presented to the American people in 1827 when Jackson ran for the presidency. They constitute a plausible account if one wants to believe that Rachel and Jackson were innocent of any deliberate wrongdoing and is willing to overlook the fact that Jackson, a lawyer, did not bother to obtain legal proof of divorce before “marrying” Rachel, that no record of the 1791 “marriage” or who performed it exists, and that it took two years for the couple to learn that no divorce had been granted despite the fact that on February 4, 11, 18, and 25 and March 3, 10, 17, and 24, 1792, the Kentucky Gazette, in accordance with instructions of the Virginia legislature, formally summoned Rachel to appear before the court to answer the the charge of adultery.

It would appear that Overton’s dates are off by one year. Instead of marrying after Robards received legislative approval for the divorce proceedings, as alleged in 1827, Andrew and Rachel were “married” months before, earlier than November 3, 1790, when Cochran referred to Rachel as “Mrs. Jackson,” and probably sometime in late October 1790. If this is true, they “married” when Rachel was still legally bound to another man—unless, of course, they did not marry at all (which would explain the absence of any documentation) and simply lived together as common-law husband and wife.

He opposed a profession of faith to be required of all officeholders—belief in God, the afterlife, and the divine authority of the Bible—and played a prominent role in defeating it. In addition, he seconded a motion to exclude clergymen from the legislature.

On December 11, the reply, a glowing tribute, was formally reported out of committee and debated for two days. Then a vote was called for its adoption. Edward Livingston, Nathaniel Macon, and Andrew Jackson voted nay.

“Very well,” Jackson said, rising and walking toward the door, “I adjourn this court ten minutes.” Bean was standing a short distance from the court, in the center of a crowd, cursing and flourishing his weapons and vowing death to all who might attempt to arrest him. Mr. Justice Jackson walked straight toward the man, a pistol in each hand. “Now,” he roared, staring into the eyes of the ruffian, “surrender, you infernal villain, this very instant, or I’ll blow you through.” Bean stared into Jackson’s blazing eyes. Then, as though reading something terrible in those eyes, he quietly surrendered his weapons. “There, judge,” he said, “it’s no use, I give in.” And he surrendered meekly. Several days later while sitting in prison Bean was asked why he gave up to Jackson after holding off an entire posse. “Why,” he said, “when he came up, I looked him in the eye, and I saw shoot, and there wasn’t shoot in nary other eye in the crowd; and so I says to myself, says I, hoss, it’s about time to sing small, and so I did.”

“Services?” Sevier laughed. “I know of no great service you have rendered the country, except taking a trip to Natchez with another man’s wife.” Jackson went wild. “Great God!” he screamed, “do you mention her sacred name?” “Draw!” roared Sevier. The crowd scattered. Shots rang out and one bystander was grazed by a bullet.11 Fortunately the two men were separated before a general melee could begin; but thereafter the expression “Great God” became a favorite saying with the young men of Knoxville.

“I have spoke for a place in the paper [Gazette] for the following advertisement . . . as follows, To all who shall see these presents Greeting. Know ye that I Andrew Jackson, do pronounce, publish, and declare to the world, that his excellency John Sevier, Captain General and commander in chief of the land and naval forces of the state of Tennessee, is a base coward and poltroon. He will basely insult, but has not courage to repair the wound. Andrew Jackson.

The thirty-year history of the Allison land deal scarred Jackson for life with fearful marks of fiscal conservatism. He hated debt; paper money represented the instruments of dishonest land and stock jobbers; banks that manipulated debts and loans were an abomination.

Whilejackson tended store his farm was cultivated by slaves supervised by Rachel. Over a period of years Jackson had accumulated many slaves. In 1794, according to a list of his taxable property, he owned 10 slaves. The Davidson County tax books show that the number rose to 15 in 1798. The 1820 census reported that he held 44 slaves, of whom 27 were male and 17 female. By the time Jackson became President of the United States there were 95 slaves at the Hermitage. A few years later that number totaled 150.28 For the most part Jackson treated his slaves decently and tried to make certain they were not abused by overseers.29 But he could also be very severe. If he felt punishment merited he had his slaves whipped and on occasion chained. With runaway slaves he had little mercy. His behavior on occasion can only be described as barbaric.

It would be preferable to explain the duel that eventually followed as a consequence of Dickinson’s vile and vulgar insult, but the fact of the matter is otherwise. The duel resulted from a horserace bet, not the need of an outraged husband to defend the name of his beloved wife.

Dickinson returned to the mark and waited for Jackson’s fire. He was at the General’s mercy. Jackson could have been magnanimous and refused the shot or fired into the air, but he had promised to kill Dickinson and nothing could dissuade him. “I should have hit him,” he reportedly said, “if he had shot me through the brain.”36 Slowly Jackson raised his pistol and took aim. He squeezed the trigger. There was a “click” as the hammer stopped at half cock. Dickinson waited. Jackson drew back the hammer, aimed again, and fired. The bullet struck Dickinson just below the ribs. He reeled. His friends rushed forward and caught him as he fell. They tried to stop the flow of blood but there was nothing they could do. The bullet had passed clean through his body, leaving a gaping hole. The twenty-seven-year-old man bled to death.

Most important, Jackson always judged other men’s integrity according to their personal commitment to him.

As he walked in he overheard a civilian comment on the stupidity of the authorities for having massed troops without providing adequate shelter. It was monstrous, the critic said, that the men should be outside in the cold while the officers had the best accommodations in town. The unwary civilian had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when Jackson slammed him against the wall with a fiery verbal blast. “You d——d infernal scoundrel,” he cried, “sowing disaffection among the troops. Why, the quartermaster and I have been up all night, making the men comfortable. Let me hear no more such talk, or I’m d——d if I don’t ram that red hot handiron down your throat.”

Billy also fired. And the bullet caught Jesse in the act of squatting. It inflicted a long, raking wound across both cheeks of his buttocks. Though not lethal, the wound proved very painful and extremely embarrassing. Poor Jesse became the object of much laughter in Nashville.

He arrived at Fort Jackson on July 10, 1814, and immediately summoned the Creek chiefs—friendly and hostile—to a general meeting. When they assembled he hardly acknowledged the help he had received during the war from friendly Creeks. He treated all the Indians in the same manner. For their crime, he told them, the entire Creek Nation must pay. He demanded the equivalent of all expenses incurred by the United States in the war, which by his calculation came to 23 million acres of land. He wanted roughly three-fifths of the present, state of Alabama and one-fifth of Georgia! In addition, the Creeks must cease all communication with the British and Spanish. They must acknowledge the right of the United States to open roads through Creek country and to establish military and trading posts wherever necessary, and they must surrender the instigators of the war.

Thirty-five chiefs (only one of whom was a Red Stick), under protest, signed the treaty at 2:00 P.M. They then withdrew from the fort to carry the word of their disgrace and ruin to the other members of the tribe.53

Thus Jackson converted the Creek civil war into an enormous land grab.

“Too much praise,” Jackson later informed Monroe, “cannot be bestowed on those who managed my artillery.”32 Indeed they had battered the British position into a “formless mass of soil and broken guns.”

But it was too little, too late. The American force on the west bank was undermanned and underarmed. It was totally inadequate to its task. The Battle of New Orleans was about to begin, and the Americans were dangerously exposed to a possible cross fire.

They had forgotten the fascines and ladders! Quickly they raced to the rear to pick up this equipment. Then they tried to dash back into position before the signal to attack. Too late. The battle had commenced.

One incident that particularly rankled was Jackson’s arrest of a federal district judge, Dominick Augustine Hall, for issuing a writ of habeas corpus freeing a legislator named Louis Louailler, who had been jailed for writing a newspaper article that criticized the city’s military authority. His imprisonment occurred prior to the lifting of martial law. Like everyone else in New Orleans, Judge Hall felt that martial law must end and he chose the manner of a writ of habeas corpus to express that belief. When the writ was handed to him, Jackson responded with an order of his own. “Having reed information that Domanic A Hall has been engaged in aiding abetting and exciting mutiny within my camp,” he wrote Colonel Mathew Arbuckle, “You will forthwith . . . arrest and [confine] him, and make report of the same to head Quarters.”12 The order was immediately carried out, and by evening Hall was locked in the same barracks with Louailler.

Louailler was released—he had been court-martialed and acquitted, but Jackson refused to free him—and Hall was permitted to resume his role as federal district judge.

For one thing he was directed by the administration to execute Article IX of the Treaty of Ghent. This article stated that all possessions taken from the Indians subsequent to 1811 must be returned. Automatically that required Jackson to return approximately 23 million acres of land he tore from the Creek Nation at the conclusion of the Creek War. But Sharp Knife had no intention of returning the land. He blithely ignored Article IX and simply continued his policy of removing the Indians from the surrendered lands. And nobody stopped him, nobody dared.

Later Jackson particularized many of his ideas about the Indians and how they should be treated. For one thing, “I have long viewed treaties with the Indians an absurdity,” he said, “not to be reconciled to the principles of our Government. The Indians are the subjects of the United States. .. . I have always thought, that Congress had as much right to regulate by acts of Legislation, all Indian concerns as they had of Territories.” In short, Indians had no rights if they conflicted with the security of the United States. “The Indians live within the Territory of the United States,” he declared, “and are subject to its sovereignty and . . . subject to its laws.”

But Jackson’s victory did not actually register a “vast” outpouring of voters. It just looked that way. In a country of nearly 13 million, some 1,155,340 white males participated in the election, which is statistically rather small. Even so, that small number represented an increase of more than 800,000 over the previous presidential election, so it appeared at the time to signal a far-ranging awakening of public interest in the election of the chief executive.

Jackson’s appointments on the whole ran from poor to wretched—with a few notable exceptions.

Indeed, as was quickly pointed out when the appointments were announced by Duff Green in his newspaper, the cabinet was uniformly second-rate, with the single exception of Martin Van Buren. “The Millennium of the Minnows!” commented one man; and surely it ranked among the worst cabinets in the nineteenth century. For an administration intent on restoring republicanism through a vigorous program of reform, this list of its executive officers hardly inspired confidence. That it collapsed within two years is not surprising.

One bit of advice Van Buren offered concerned the appointment of the collector of the Port of New York. This was a very sensitive and important position. Some $15 million annually passed through the collector’s hands. If any post needed a man of the highest integrity it was this one. And when Van Buren learned that Jackson intended to appoint Samuel Swartwout to the office he almost collapsed. Not only did Swartwout have criminal tendencies but the Regency detested him. Van Buren alerted the President immediately and warned him that Swartwout’s appointment would “not be in accordance with public sentiment, the interest of the Country or the credit of the administration.” Unfortunately, Jackson refused to listen. He liked Swartwout because he had been an early supporter—unlike Van Buren—and so he went ahead with the appointment. In time, of course, Swartwout absconded with $1,222,705.09. It was a monumental theft. And when his peculations were finally uncovered a few years later, the criminal fled to Europe. Jackson was mortified. “Can he live after this?” the President cried, “or will he cut his throat?”

Not many days after the Jefferson birthday celebration a congressman from South Carolina came to the White House to pay his respects and take leave of the President before departing for his home. He asked Jackson if he had anything he wanted him to convey to his friends in South Carolina. “No, I believe not,” came the immediate reply. But then the President remembered his toast and corrected himself. “Yes, I have; please give my compliments to my friends in your State, and say to them, that if a single drop of blood shall be shed there in opposition to the laws of the United States, I will hang the first man I can lay my hand on engaged in such treasonable conduct, upon the first tree I can reach.”

The policy of white Americans toward the Indians was a disgrace, right from the beginning. Sometimes the policy was benign, such as sharing educational advantages, but more often than not it was malevolent. From the beginning Americans drove the Indians from their midst, stole their lands, and, when necessary, murdered them. To many Americans, Indians were inferior and their culture a throwback to a darker age.

They were told quite specifically that the President “staked the success of his administration upon this measure,”

This monumental piece of legislation spelled the doom of the American Indian. It was harsh, arrogant, racist—and inevitable. It was too late to acknowledge any rights for the Indians. They had long since been abrogated.

Unfortunately the start of removal was delayed until late fall and produced avoidable horrors that resulted in many Choctaw deaths. The entire operation was marked by inefficiency, confusion, stupidity, and criminal disregard of the rights of human beings. It typified all too accurately the agony of Indian removal during the entire Jacksonian era.

Clear evidence that Jackson was not actually concerned with the safety of Native Americans.

Thus began one of the most disgraceful and heart-rending episodes in American history. The Cherokees were rounded up, herded into prison camps, and then sent west along what they came to call “The Trail of Tears.” It has been estimated that some 18,000 Cherokees were removed, of whom 4,000 died as a result of their capture, detention, or westward journey. Jackson himself had retired from the presidency when the Cherokee exodus was set in motion. Still he shares much of the blame for his inhuman deed. He was so anxious to expel the red man from “civilized society” that he took little account of what his inflexible determination might cost in human life and suffering.

Jackson clearly didn't give a shit about their safety. It's galling that the author said this.

“Severe as is the lesson to the Indians,” he lectured, “it was rendered necessary by their unprovoked aggressions, and it is to be hoped that its impression will be permanent and salutary.”

By the close of Jackson’s eight years in office approximately 45,690 Indians had been relocated beyond the Mississippi River. According to the Indian Office, only about 9,000 Indians, mostly in the Old Northwest and New York, were without treaty stipulations requiring their removal when Jackson left office. The operation, of course, provided an empire. Jackson acquired for the United States approximately 100 million acres of land in exchange for about $68 million and 32 million acres of western land.

The removal of the American Indian was one of the most significant and tragic acts of the Jackson administration. It was accomplished in total violation not only of American principles of justice and law but of Jackson’s own strict code of honor. There can be no question that he believed he had acted in the best interest of the Indian, but to achieve his purpose countless men, women, and children suffered deprivation and death. Jackson’s humanitarian concerns—and they were genuine—were unfortunately shot through with ethnocentrism and paternalism that allowed little regard or appreciation of Indian culture and civilization.

genuine concern is clearly absent

Jackson wanted a sharp cut in the tariff rates and through his Treasury secretary proposed a drop in the current 45 percent, to 27 percent overall.

The question henceforth “is not what Congress will do,” they jeered, “but what the President will permit.”