“I was born for a storm
and a calm does not suit me.”
While his countenance
graces our $20 bill, many Americans do not know much about the life of Andrew
Jackson. He is often remembered as the hero of the Battle of New Orleans or
condemned as the man responsible for the Trail of Tears. He was in truth a man
of many contradictions: impetuous and reckless frontiersman and charming
gentleman; signer of the Indian Removal Act and devoted father of an adopted
Indian orphan; champion of freedom and the preservation of the Union and
unrepentant slave holder. He was described as both a quintessential man’s man,
“fond of well-cut clothes, racehorses, dueling, newspapers, gambling, whiskey,
coffee, a pipe, pretty women, children, and good company,” and a gentleman with
a soft side: “there was more of the woman in his nature than in that of
any man I ever knew — more of a woman’s tenderness toward children, and
sympathy with them.”
He was the first president
to come from the common people and break the Virginia aristocracy’s hold on
that office. After his inauguration, he threw open the doors of the White House
for a public reception; the crowd of drunken well-wishers who attended grew so
huge and unruly they had to be lured back out with large tubs of spiked punch
placed on the front lawn. He was the first president to see himself as the
direct representative of the people and thus to believe that his office should
have great power and authority in shaping national affairs.
There is much to find
repugnant in Andrew Jackson’s life and career as it pertains to slavery and
Native Americans. But that a man is flawed in some ways does not mean that he
cannot be inspiring to others. And it would be a shame not to learn from the high points of the life of “The
Old Lion”:
Don’t Let Your Circumstances
Determine Your Fate
Andrew Jackson’s life
story could have been torn straight from a Horatio Alger novel. Jackson’s
father died just 2 months before he was born. His mother could not keep the
family farm going herself and moved in with her sister. So began a life of
dependency for young Andrew. His aunt put his mother to work like a
housekeeper, and the boy was always keenly aware of his inferior place in the
household. Growing up without a father, he developed a propensity towards
anger, recklessness, and defensiveness.
Yet Jackson’s troubles had
just begun. The Revolutionary War would grant the country independence, but
exact a heavy price on this future president. Hugh, his 16-year-old brother who
had gone off to fight, became the first casualty, dying of heat exhaustion at
the Battle of Stono Ferry. Andrew, who at age 13 had joined a local militia to
serve as a courier, was then captured by British soldiers and imprisoned along
with his other brother, Robert. Jackson’s mother successfully pled for the boys
to be released, but Robert, who had contracted smallpox while in jail, died two
days later. Andrew was also sick, but his mother, assured he was doing well,
decided to travel to Charleston to tend to prisoners of war who had become
stricken with cholera. Jackson would never see her again; she soon fell ill and
passed away. Andrew Jackson, only 14 years old, was now an orphan.
Jackson now had no
immediate family and only a few years of education. He lived with a series of
relatives, chafed at feeling like an inferior houseguest, squandered an
inheritance from his grandfather, and sowed his wild oats. His relatives feared
he would become a great embarrassment to his family. He described his situation
during this time as “homeless and friendless.”
Jackson felt deeply
adrift, but his mother’s last advice to him before she departed for Charleston
kept returning to his mind, urging him to turn things around and live a proper
and successful life:
“Andrew, if I should not
see you again, I wish you to remember and treasure up some things I have already
said to you: in this world you will have to make your own way. To do that you
must have friends. You can make friends by being honest, and you can keep them
by being steadfast. You must keep in mind that friends worth having will in the
long run expect as much from you as they give to you. To forget an obligation
or be ungrateful for a kindness is a base crime — not merely a fault or a sin,
but an actual crime. Men guilty of it sooner or later must suffer the penalty.
In personal conduct be always polite but never obsequious. None will respect
you more than you respect yourself. Avoid quarrels as long as you can without
yielding to imposition. But sustain your manhood always. Never bring a suit in
law for assault and battery or for defamation. The law affords no remedy for
such outrages that can satisfy the feelings of a true man. Never wound the
feelings of others. Never brook wanton outrage upon your own feelings. If you
ever have to vindicate your feelings or defend your honor, do it calmly. If
angry at first, wait until your wrath cools before you proceed.”
Desiring to honor the
memory of his mother, Jackson tried to get back on track and decided to study
and apprentice to become a lawyer. He was still living a rowdy life at that
point –“I was a raw lad then, but I did my best,” Jackson would later recall —
but he began to mark out a path for himself.
He was able to gain
admittance to the bar but could not find any clients to represent; he had no
clout or experience. So he leveraged the one quality that would help carry him
all the way to the White House: his magnetic bearing and charisma. It was a
time where connection to great and prosperous families was essential to
success, and Jackson used his charm to insinuate himself into these families’
good graces. He was never considered attractive, but his gentlemanly manners,
steely, attentive blue eyes, and ability to converse with and warmly engage
with people from all walks of life drew others to him. While his rowdy
reputation would often precede him, Jackson would instantly disarm those he met
and absolutely confound their expectations.
Jackson made the right
connections, worked hard, and moved up in the world. With vast stores of
personal strength, self-confidence, and perseverance as his only resources, he
set out to make a name for himself. His biographer, Jon Meacham, details his
astonishing and unexpected rise: “An uneducated boy from the Carolina backwoods,
the son of Scots-Irish immigrants…became a practicing lawyer, a public
prosecutor, a US attorney, a delegate to the founding Tennessee Constitutional
Convention, a US Congressman, a US Senator, a judge of the state Superior
Court, and a major general, first of the state militia and then of the US
Army.” And then, of course, he would reach the very top of the ladder –
attaining the highest office in the land.
Instead of letting
adversity break him, Andrew Jackson gathered a gritty strength from his experiences
that would enable him to make it through all the tests and trials of his life.
Cultivate Your Leadership
Before he became a
politician, Jackson was a great and storied war hero. He was the kind of leader
that men would gladly follow to the ends of the earth. Having grown up without
a father, Jackson sought to be a father to the men under his command. He
treated his men as sons, and in so doing, won their undying loyalty.
When the war with Britain
began in the winter of 1812-13, Major General Jackson gathered together 2,000
volunteers and marched them from Tennessee towards New Orleans in anticipation
of action. The men had picked up and left behind their professions and families
— their entire lives, really — in hopes of being of service to the country. But
after journeying for 500 cold miles and reaching Mississippi, the Secretary of
War ordered them to disband and return. Jackson refused to leave his volunteers
adrift and force the men to find their own way back home. He promised to keep
them together, and even use his own money to furnish the supplies necessary for
the return trip.
Many of the men had by
then fallen ill and could not make the long journey unaided. Yet there were
only 11 wagons for the 150 sick men. The regiment’s doctor, Samuel Hogg, asked
Jackson what he should do with the sick. “To do sir? You are not to leave a man
on the ground.” “But the wagons are full and they will convey not more than
half,” Hogg countered. “Then let some of the troops dismount, and the officers
must give up their horses to the sick. Not a man, sir, must be left behind,”
Jackson declared. The general set the example by immediately turning over his
own horses. He walked alongside his men all the way back to Tennessee. By the
time the weary troops arrived in Nashville, the men had taken to calling their
tender but tough leader “Old Hickory,” a tree whose wood is described thusly:
“Very hard, stiff, dense, and shock resistant. There are woods that are
stronger than hickory and woods that are harder, but the combination of
strength, toughness, hardness, and stiffness found in hickory wood is not found
in any other.”
Prize Your Honor and the Honor of
Your Loved Ones
One’s honor was a central
occupation of all men during this period, but starting from a young age, Andrew
Jackson took it even more seriously than most. During the Revolutionary War,
when he and his brother were captured by the red coats, a British officer ordered
Jackson to polish his boots. The nervy boy refused, declaring, “Sir, I am a
prisoner of war and claim to be treated as such.” Enraged, the officer
swung his sword at Jackson. Though he tried to block the blow, it left a scar
on his hand and a dent in his head.
Jackson was also ferocious
in his desire to protect the honor and well-being of his loved ones. The orphan
drew his extended family to him and greatly valued their loyalty. Above all, he
valued the bond and honor of his wife of 40 years, Rachel. Because their
marriage began under a cloud of controversy (Rachel was not yet divorced when
their relationship began), she was subject to attack from Jackson’s political
opponents. To Jackson, the slanderer was “worse than a murderer. The murderer
only takes the life of the parent and leaves his character as a goodly heritage
to his children, whilst the slanderer takes away his good reputation and leaves
him a living monument to his children’s disgrace.” Defaming his wife was, as a
contemporary recalled, “like sinning against the Holy Ghost: unpardonable.”
Biographer James Parton claimed that Jackson “kept pistols in perfect condition
for thirty-seven years” to use whenever someone “dared breathe her name except
in honor.”
They were dueling pistols.
For a southern gentleman of this time, dueling was the honorable way to resolve
quarrels and insults. Jackson took his mother’s maxim “that the law affords no
remedy for such outrages that can satisfy the feelings of a true man” to heart,
and involved himself in more than 13 “affairs of honor” These showdowns left
his body so filled with lead that people said he “rattled like a bag of
marbles.”
Practice Stoic Self-Discipline
Jackson’s anger, born from
his troubled youth, constantly threatened his ability to reach his goals. He
knew he had to get it under control if he wished to find success. He was never
able to entirely subdue his temper, but he was largely able to transform
himself from reckless hothead to cool and calculating leader.
During his presidential
campaigns, his opponents were constantly trying to provoke Jackson, goading him
to lose control and reveal himself as exactly what some voters feared him to
be: a knuckle-dragging, unhinged frontiersmen, unfit for the highest office in
the land. Though they besmirched the character of his wife, Jackson’s great
Achilles’ heel, he would not give them the satisfaction of an embarrassing
outburst.
The election of 1824 was a
particularly bitter contest. Jackson had won the popular vote, but without a
majority from the electoral college, the decision was thrown to the House,
which chose John Quincy Adams to be the next president. On the night he lost
the election, Jackson attended a party at the White House where he came
face-to-face with Adams. The moment was tense as the two men stared at one another.
With his wife on his arm, it was Jackson who made the first move, extending his
hand to the president-elect and cheerfully inquiring, “How do you do, Mr.
Adams? I give you my left hand, for the right, as you see, is devoted to the
fair. I hope you are very well, sir.” Answering with what an eyewitness
recalled as “chilling coldness” Adams responded: “Very well, sir; I hope
General Jackson is well.” A party guest was struck by the irony of the
exchange: “It was curious to see the western planter, the Indian fighter, the
stern soldier, who had written his country’s glory in the blood of the enemy at
New Orleans, genial and gracious in the midst of a court, while the old
courtier and diplomat was stiff, rigid, cold as a statue!”
Be a Badass
Andrew Jackson was the
first president on which an assassination attempt was made. And he is the only
one who gave his would-be assassin a thorough thumping.
In 1835, Jackson was
leaving a funeral when a deranged man, Richard Lawrence, approached the president
wielding two pistols. Lawrence leveled one of his guns and pulled the trigger.
It failed to fire. He pointed at Jackson with the other pistol, but it misfired
as well. Without blinking, the 68-year-old president went after Lawrence with
his cane, striking him several times before others in the crowd subdued the
would-be assassin.
But Jackson’s greatest
claim to badass status actually came years earlier. In 1806, in a dispute over
a horse race and an insult made about his wife, Charles Dickinson challenged
Jackson to a duel. Dickinson was a well-known sharpshooter and Jackson felt his
only chance to kill him would be to allow himself enough time to take an
accurate shot. So as the two faced off along the banks of the Red River in
Kentucky, Jackson purposely allowed Dickinson to shoot him first. He hardly
quivered as the bullet lodged in his ribs. Jackson then calmly leveled his
pistol, took aim, and knocked Dickinson off. It was only then that he took heed
of the fact that blood was dripping into his boot. Dickinson’s musket ball was
too close to his heart to be removed and forever remained lodged in Jackson’s
chest. The wound would lend him a perpetual hacking cough, cause him persistent
pain, and compound the many health problems that would beleaguer him throughout
life.
Yet Jackson never
regretted the decision, saying, “If he had shot me through the brain, sir, I
should still have killed him.”
By Ken and Brett Mc Kay
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