it
is significant that twenty-six of the seventy-three men who had signed
the petition called and erased their names from the document.

"The Hermitage" at Nashville, which is still a very attractive spot
for visitors, was built solely to please Mrs. Jackson, and there she
dispensed gracious hospitality. Not merely a guest or two, but whole
families, came for weeks at a time, for the mistress of the mansion
was fond of entertaining, and proved herself a charming hostess. She
had a good memory, had passed through many and greatly varied
experiences, and above all she had that rare faculty which is called
tact.

Though her husband's love for her was evident to every one, yet, in
the presence of others, he always maintained a dignified reserve. He
never spoke of her as "Rachel," nor addressed her as "My Dear." It
was always "Mrs. Jackson," or "wife." She always called him "Mr.
Jackson," never "Andrew" nor "General."

Both of them greatly desired children, but this blessing was denied
them; so they adopted a boy, the child of Mrs. Jackson's brother,
naming him "Andrew Jackson," and bringing him up as their own child.

The lady's portrait shows her to have been wonderfully attractive. It
does not reveal the dusky Oriental tint of her skin, the ripe red of
her lips, nor the changing lights in her face, but it shows the high
forehead, the dark soft hair, the fine eyes, and the tempting mouth
which was smiling, yet serene. A lace head-dress is worn over the
waving hair, and the filmy folds fall softly over neck and bosom.

When Jackson was elected to the Presidency, the ladies of Nashville
organized themselves into sewing circles to prepare Mrs. Jackson's
wardrobe. It was a labour of love. On December 23, 1828, there was to
be a grand banquet in Jackson's honour, and the devoted women of their
home city had made a beautiful gown for his wife to wear at the
dinner. At sunrise the preparations began. The tables were set, the
dining-room decorated, and the officers and men of the troop that was
to escort the President-elect were preparing to go to the home and
attend him on the long ride into the city. Their horses were saddled
and in readiness at the place of meeting. As the bugle sounded the
summons to mount, a breathless messenger appeared on a horse flecked
with foam. Mrs. Jackson had died of heart disease the evening before.

The festival was changed to a funeral, and the trumpets and drums that
were to have sounded s