Part 6

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.

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: