Jackson served his State well by securing compensation for every man who had done service or lost his property in the Indian wars. It was not strange, therefore, that, when a vacancy occurred in the United States Senate, Jackson was chosen to fill the place, in the autumn of 1797.

Only thirty years old! Rachel Jackson might well be proud of him.

But the following year he resigned his position, glad to be, as he supposed, out of official life. He was, however, too prominent to be allowed to remain in private life, and was elected to a judgeship of the Supreme Court of Tennessee. As he had made it a rule "never to seek and never to decline public duty," he accepted, on the small salary of six hundred dollars a year. While many other men in the State were more learned in the law than Jackson, yet the people believed in his honesty and integrity, and therefore he was chosen. Quick to decide and slow to change his mind, in fifteen days he had disposed of fifty cases, says James Parton, in his entertaining life of Andrew Jackson.

After six years, longing for a more active life, Jackson resigned, and was made major-general of the militia of the State. This position was given, not without opposition, he receiving only one more vote than his chief compet.i.tor. That one vote, perhaps, led to New Orleans and the Presidency. This office was in accordance with his natural tastes. Since boyhood, he had loved the stir and command of battle, and believed he should like to conquer an enemy as he had met and conquered every obstacle that lay athwart his path.

As there was no war in progress, he continued his law practice. But, not satisfied with this alone, he became a merchant, trading with the Indians, selling blankets, hardware, and the like, and receiving in return cotton and other produce of the country. In the panic of 1798, he became financially embarra.s.sed, but, true to his manly nature, he worked steadily on till every dollar was paid. He sold twenty-five thousand acres of his wild land, sold his home, and moved into a log house at the Hermitage, seven miles out from Nashville, and preserved for himself the best thing on earth, a good name. So honest was he believed to be, when a Tennessean went to Boston bankers for a loan, with several leading names on his paper, they said, "Do you know General Jackson? Could you get his endors.e.m.e.nt?"

"Yes, but he is not worth a tenth as much as either of these men whose names I offer you," was the response.

"No matter; General Jackson has always protected himself and his paper, and we'll let you have the money on the strength of his name." And the loan was granted.

Honest and just though he was, he permitted his own fiery nature, or a perverted public opinion, to lead him into acts which tarnished his whole subsequent career. Quick to resent a wrong, he was morbidly sensitive about the circ.u.mstances of his marriage with Rachel Robards.

When they were married, in 1791, they supposed that the divorce, applied for, had been granted, but they learned in 1793, two years afterward, that it was not legally obtained till the latter date. They were at once remarried, but the matter caused much idle talk, and, as General Jackson came into prominence, his enemies were not slow to rehea.r.s.e the story. The slightest aspersion of his wife's character aroused all the anger of his nature, and, says Parton, "For the man who dared breathe her name except in honor, he kept pistols in perfect condition for thirty-seven years." And, as duelling was the disgraceful fashion of the times, Jackson did not hesitate to use his pistols.

In 1806, when he was thirty-nine, one of those miscalled "affairs of honor" took place. Charles d.i.c.kinson, a prominent man of the State, in the course of a long quarrel, had spoken disparagingly of Mrs. Jackson, and he was therefore challenged to mortal combat. Thursday morning, May 29, he kissed his young wife tenderly, telling her he was going to Kentucky, and "would be home, sure, to-morrow night." He met Jackson on the banks of the Red River. The one was tall, erect, and intense; the other young, handsome, an expert marksman, and determined to make no mistake in his fatal work.

d.i.c.kinson fired with his supposed unerring aim, and missed! The bullet grazed Jackson's breast, and years later was the true cause of his death. Jackson took deliberate aim, intending to kill his opponent, and succeeded. The ball pa.s.sed quite through d.i.c.kinson's body. His wife was sent for, being told that he was dangerously wounded. On her way thither she met, in a rough emigrant wagon, the body of her husband. He had "come home, sure, to-morrow night"--but dead! He was deeply mourned by the State, which sympathized with his wife and infant child. General Jackson made bitter enemies by this act. Rachel had been avenged, but at what a fearful cost!

Eighteen years had gone by since Jackson's marriage. He had received distinguished honors; he had been a Representative, a Senator, a Judge of the Supreme Court of the State, a Major-General of the militia, but one joy was wanting. No children had been born in the home. Mrs.

Jackson's nephews and nieces were often at the Hermitage, and he made her kindred his own; but both loved children, and this one blessing was denied them. In 1809, twins were born to Mrs. Jackson's brother. One of these, when but a few days old, was taken to the Hermitage, and the general adopted him, giving him his own name, Andrew Jackson.

Ever after, this child was a comfort and a delight. Visitors would often find the general reading, with the boy in the rocking-chair beside him or in his lap. Hon. Thomas H. Benton, in his "Thirty Years' View," tells this story: "I arrived at his house one wet, chilly evening in February, and came upon him in the twilight, sitting alone before the fire, a lamb and a child between his knees. He started a little, called a servant to remove the two innocents to another room, and explained to me how it was. The child had cried because the lamb was out in the cold, and begged him to bring it in, which he had done to please the child, his adopted son, then not two years old. The ferocious man does not do that!

and though Jackson had his pa.s.sions and his violence, they were for men and enemies--those who stood up against him--and not for women and children, or the weak and helpless; for all whom his feelings were those of protection and support."

Jackson was always the friend of _young_ men--a constant inspiration to them to do their best. He knew the possibilities of a barefooted boy like himself. The world owes thanks to those who are its inspiration; whose minds develop ours; whose sweetness of nature makes us grow lovable, as plants grow in the sunshine; whose ideals become our ideals; who lead us up the mountains of faith and trust and hope, but the cord is silken and we never know that we are led; who go through life loving and serving--for love is service; who are our comfort and strength--we lean on those whom we love.

While Jackson was the friend of young men, especially he was loyal to any who were near his heart. He was like another great man, in a great war, the hero of 1812 and the hero of 1861. Jackson and Grant were true to those who had been true to them. Only a man of small soul forgets the ladder by which he climbs.

The second war with Great Britain had come upon the American people, June 19, 1812. Our country had suffered in its commerce through the continued wars of England with France. Vessels had been searched by the English, to find persons suspected of being British subjects; often American seamen were impressed into their service. On the ocean, the contest between English and American ships became almost constant. While a portion of the States were not in favor of the war, one person was surely in favor, and ready for it; one who had not forgotten the deaths of his mother and brothers in the Revolutionary War; who had not forgotten the wounds on his head and hand. That person was General Jackson.

He at once offered to the Governor of Louisiana, for the defence of New Orleans, three thousand soldiers. The offer was accepted, and he started for Natchez, there to await orders. The men were in the best of spirits, kept hopeful and enthusiastic by the ardor of their commander, who said to them: "Perish our friends--perish our wives--perish our children (the dearest pledges of Heaven)--nay, perish all earthly considerations--but let the honor and fame of a volunteer soldier be untarnished and immaculate. We now enjoy liberties, political, civil, and religious, that no other nation on earth possesses. May we never survive them! No, rather let us perish in maintaining them. And if we must yield, where is the man that would not prefer being buried in the ruins of his country than live the ignominious slave of haughty lords and unfeeling tyrants?"

After a time the "orders" came, but what was the astonishment and indignation of both officers and men to hear that their services were not needed, as the British evidently did not intend to attack New Orleans; that they were to disband and return to Tennessee. Without pay or rations, five hundred miles from home!--Jackson felt that it was an insult. He took an oath that they should never disband till they were at their own doors; that he would conduct his brave three thousand through the wilderness and the Indian tribes, and be responsible for expenses.

One hundred and fifty of his men were ill. He put those who could ride on horses, and then, walking at their head, led the gallant company toward home.

The soldiers used to say that he was "tough as hickory;" then "Old Hickory" grew to be a term of endearment, which he bore ever afterward.

A month later, and the disappointed soldiers were at Nashville. Before they disbanded, they were marched out upon the public square, and received a superb stand of colors. The needle-work was on white satin; eighteen orange stars in a crescent, with two sprigs of laurel, and the words, "Tennessee Volunteers--Independence, in a state of war, is to be maintained on the battle-ground of the Republic. The tented field is the post of honor. Presented by the ladies of East Tennessee." Under these words were all the implements of war; cannons, muskets, drums, swords, and the like. Jackson and his men never forgot this offering of love, and showed themselves worthy of it in after years.

If Jackson was not needed at New Orleans, he was soon needed elsewhere.

Tec.u.mseh, the great Indian chief, saw the lands of his fathers pa.s.sing into the hands of the white men. He had long been uniting the western tribes from Florida to the northern lakes, and, now that we were at war with England, he believed the hour of their delivery was come. He at once incited the Creeks of Alabama to arms.

In the southern portion of that State, forty miles north of Mobile, stood Fort Mims. The whites had become alarmed at the hostile att.i.tude of the Indians, and over five hundred men, women, and children had crowded into the fort for safety. On the 30th of August, 1813, a thousand Creek warriors in their war paint and feathers, uttering their terrible war-whoops, rushed into the fort, tomahawked the men and women, and trampled the children into the dust. The buildings were burned, and the plain was covered with dead bodies. The ma.s.sacre at Fort Mims blanched every face and embittered every heart. The Tennesseans offered at once to march against the Creeks. The hot-headed General Jackson had been wounded in a quarrel with Thomas H. Benton, and was suffering from the ball in his shoulder, which he carried there for twenty years. But he put his left arm into a sling, and, though emaciated through long weeks of illness, he led his twenty-five hundred men into the Indians'

country.

The provisions did not follow them as had been arranged. Jackson wrote home earnestly for money and food. He said, "There is an enemy whom I dread much more than I do the hostile Creeks, and whose power, I am fearful, I shall first be made to feel--I mean the meagre monster, FAMINE." And yet he encouraged his men with these brave words: "Shall an enemy wholly unacquainted with military evolution, and who rely more for victory on their grim visages and hideous yells than upon their bravery or their weapons--shall such an enemy ever drive before them the well trained youths of our country, whose bosoms pant for glory and a desire to avenge the wrongs they have received? Your general will not live to behold such a spectacle; rather would he rush into the thickest of the enemy, and submit himself to their scalping-knives.... With his soldiers he will face all dangers, and with them partic.i.p.ate in the glory of conquest."

The first battle with the Creeks was fought under General John Coffee at Talluschatches, thirteen miles from Jackson's camp, the friendly Creeks leading the way, wearing white feathers and white deer's-tails to distinguish them from the hostile tribes. The whites, maddened by the memory of Fort Mims, fought like tigers; the Indians, sullen and revengeful at the prospect of losing their homes and their hunting-grounds, neither asked nor gave quarter, and fought heroically.

Nearly the whole town perished.

On the battle-field was found a dead mother with her arms clasped about a living child. The babe was brought into camp, and Jackson asked some of the Indian women to care for it. "No!" said they, "all his relations are dead; kill him too." The baby was cared for at General Jackson's expense till the campaign was over, and then carried to the Hermitage, where he grew to young manhood as a petted son. The general and his wife gave him the name of Lincoyer. In his seventeenth year he died of consumption, sincerely mourned by his devoted friends.

Following the battle of Talluschatches, General Jackson moved against Talladega, and, after a b.l.o.o.d.y conflict, rescued one hundred and fifty friendly Creeks. Returning to camp, he found starvation staring him in the face. The men were becoming desperate; yet he kept his cheerfulness, dividing with them the last crust. One morning a gaunt, hungry-looking soldier approached General Jackson as he was sitting under a tree, eating, and asked for some food, saying that he was nearly starving.

"It has been a rule with me," said the general, "never to turn away a hungry man, when it is in my power to relieve him, and I will most cheerfully divide with you what I have." Putting his hand in his pocket, he drew forth a few acorns. "This is the best and only fare I have," he said, and the soldier was comforted.

Many of the men had enlisted for three months only, and were impatient to return home. Finally, the militia determined to return with or without the general's consent. Jackson heard of their intention, and at once ordered the volunteers to detain them, peaceably if they could, forcibly if they must. Then the volunteers, in turn, attempted to go back, but were met by Jackson's firm resolve to shoot the first man who took a step toward home.

"I cannot," he said, "must not believe that the 'Volunteers of Tennessee,' a name ever dear to fame, will disgrace themselves, and a country which they have honored, by abandoning her standard, as mutineers and deserters; but should I be disappointed, and compelled to resign this pleasing hope, one thing I will not resign--my duty. Mutiny and sedition, so long as I possess the power of quelling them, shall be put down; and even when left dest.i.tute of this, I will still be found in the last extremity endeavoring to discharge the duty I owe my country and myself." That one word, "duty," was the key-note of Jackson's life.

It was his religion--it was his philosophy.

With all Jackson's kindness to his men, they knew that he could be severe. John Woods, a boy not eighteen, the support of aged parents, was shot for refusing to obey a superior officer. That he could have been spared seems probable, but Jackson taught hard lessons to his undisciplined troops, and sometimes in a harsh manner.

In seven months the Creeks had been utterly routed; half their warriors were dead, and the rest were broken in spirit. Weathersford, their most heroic chief, the leader at the Fort Mims ma.s.sacre, sought General Jackson at his camp.

"How dare you," said Jackson, "ride up to my tent, after having murdered the women and children at Fort Mims?"

"General Jackson, I am not afraid of you," was the reply. "I fear no man, for I am a Creek warrior. I have nothing to request in behalf of myself. You can kill me, if you desire. But I come to beg you to send for the women and children of the war party, who are now starving in the woods. Their fields and cribs have been destroyed by your people, who have driven them to the woods without an ear of corn. I hope that you will send out parties, who will conduct them safely here, in order that they may be fed. I exerted myself in vain to prevent the ma.s.sacre of the women and children at Fort Mims. I am now done fighting. The Red Sticks are nearly all killed. If I could fight you any longer, I would most heartily do so. Send for the women and children. They never did you any harm. But kill me, if the white people want it done."

"Kill him! kill him!" shouted several voices.

"Silence!" exclaimed Jackson. "Any man who would kill as brave a man as this would rob the dead!"

Weathersford's request was granted, and the women and children of the war party were provided for. The chief died many years afterward, a planter in Alabama, respected by the Americans for his bravery and his honor.

The Creek war over, Jackson went back to Tennessee, a noted, successful soldier. He had not only conquered the Creeks, but he had won for himself the position of major-general in the United States army, having in charge the department of the South. He was now forty-seven, and had indeed reached a high position. Mississippi voted him a sword, and other States sent testimonials of appreciation. All this time he was a constant sufferer in body, and only kept himself from his bed by his indomitable will. The Hermitage could not long keep the ardent, tireless general from the front. He soon established his headquarters at Mobile, and prepared to defend a thousand miles of coast from the British. He had but a small army at his command, and was far from Washington, with scarcely any means of communication. Indeed, the English had captured that city already, and burned most of its public buildings.

The English had attacked Mobile Point, been defeated, and retired to Pensacola, Florida. Spain owned Florida, and was supposed to be neutral, but she was in reality friendly and helpful to England, and allowed her to use the State as a base of operations. Jackson wrote to Washington asking leave to attack Pensacola. The answer did not come back till the war of 1812 was over and Jackson had won renown for himself and his country. He did not wait for an answer, however, but stormed Pensacola, captured it, and then hastened to New Orleans, where he expected the next attack would be made. He used to say to young men, "Always take all the time to reflect that circ.u.mstances will permit; but when the time for action has come, stop thinking." And at Pensacola he stopped thinking, and acted. Nothing was ready for his coming, but all eyes turned to the conquerer of the Creeks as the savior of New Orleans.

Women gathered around him and looked trustingly toward the erect, self-centred, bronzed soldier. Men flocked willingly to his service, glad to do his bidding. He summoned the engineers of the city and ordered every bayou to be obstructed by earth and sunken logs. The city was put under martial law. No person was permitted to leave the place without a written permit signed by the general or one of his staff. The street lamps were extinguished at nine o'clock, after which hour any person without the necessary permit or not having the countersign was apprehended as a spy and held for examination. All able-bodied men, black and white, were compelled to serve as soldiers or sailors.

He had with him about two thousand troops, and four thousand more within ten or fifteen days' march. Against these, for the most part undisciplined troops, a British force of twenty thousand men was coming, with a fleet of fifty ships, carrying a thousand guns. Much of this army had served under the great Wellington in France; its present leader, General Packenham, was Wellington's brother-in-law. He was only thirty-eight, brave, and the idol of his men. Some of the ships had been with Nelson in the battle of the Nile. The flower of England's army and navy had been sent to conquer the independent and self-reliant Americans.

So certain were the British of conquest that several families were with the fleet, husbands and brothers having been appointed already to civil offices. Another person was also confident of victory--the man who had seen but fourteen months of service, but who from boyhood had never known what it was to be defeated. He inspired others with the same confidence. Says Latour, in his history of the war in West Florida and Louisiana, "The energy manifested by General Jackson spread, as it were, by contagion, and communicated itself to the whole army. There was nothing which those who composed it did not feel themselves capable of performing, if he ordered it to be done. It was enough that he expressed a wish or threw out the slightest intimation, and immediately a crowd of volunteers offered themselves to carry his views into execution."

The English fleet entered Lake Borgne, sixty miles north-east from New Orleans, on December 10, 1814. Twelve days later they had reached the Mississippi River, nine miles below the city. The next day, when Jackson was informed of their approach, he said, bringing his clenched fist down upon the table, "By the Eternal, they shall not sleep on our soil!"

At once, with, as Parton says, that "calm impetuosity and that composed intensity which belonged to him," he sent word to the various regiments to meet him at three o'clock at a specified place. And then he lay down and slept for a short time, his only rest during the next three days and three nights. Few men except General Jackson, with his iron will, could have slept at such a time. A messenger came, sent by some ladies, asking what they should do if the city were attacked.

"Say to them not to be uneasy. No British soldier shall enter the city as an enemy, unless over my dead body," and he kept his word.

At three o'clock the men were hastening on to meet the "red-coats."

Twilight came early, and the moon rose dimly over the battle-field. The signal of attack was to be a shot fired from the ship Carolina. At half-past seven, the first gun was heard, then seven others, and the word was given--FORWARD.

And forward they went, with quick steps and eager hearts. A tremendous fire opened upon our artillery-men. The horses attached to the cannon became unmanageable, and one of the pieces was turned over into the ditch. Jackson dashed into the midst of the fray, exclaiming, "Save the guns, my boys, at every sacrifice," and the guns were saved. Men fought hand to hand in the smoke and the darkness; the British using their bayonets, and the Americans their long hunting-knives. Prisoners were taken and retaken. Till ten o'clock the battle raged; when our men fell back upon the Roderiguez ca.n.a.l, to wait till the morning sun should show where to begin the deadly work. When the morning came, the battle-field presented a ghastly appearance. Says a British officer concerning the American dead, "Their hair, eyebrows, and lashes were thickly covered with h.o.a.r-frost, or rime, their bloodless cheeks vying with its whiteness. Few were dressed in military uniforms, and most of them bore the appearance of farmers or husbandmen. Peace to their ashes! they had n.o.bly died in defending their country."

The Roderiguez ca.n.a.l was now strongly fortified. Spades, crowbars, and wheelbarrows had been sent from the city. The ca.n.a.l was deepened and the earth thrown up on the side. Fences were torn away, and rails driven down to keep the sand from falling back into the ca.n.a.l. The line of defence, a mile long, was four or five feet high in some places. Cotton bales from a neighboring ship were used.

"Here," said Jackson, "we will plant our stakes, and not abandon them until we drive these 'red-coat' rascals into the river or the swamp."