Jackson: The Iron-Willed Commander

JACKSON

a1 THE | GENERALS a1

JACKSON

The Iron-Willed Commander

a1 THE | GENERALS a1

Paul S. Vickery, PhD

© 2012 by Dr. Paul S. Vickery, Ph.D.

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Thomas Nelson, Inc., titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Vickery, Paul S.

   Jackson : the iron-willed commander / Paul S. Vickery.

   p. cm. -- (The generals)

   Includes bibliographical references and index.

   ISBN 978-1-59555-454-3 (hardback)

1. Jackson, Andrew, 1767-1845. 2. Generals--United States--Biography. 3. United States. Army--Biography. 4. Presidents--United States--Biography. 5. United States--Politics and government--1815-1861. I. Title.

   E382.V53 2012

   973.5’6092--dc23

   [B]

2011052619

Printed in the United States of America

12 13 14 15 16 WOR 6 5 4 3 2 1

Contents

A Note from the Editor

Prologue

One: A Boy Becomes a Man

Two: A Lawyer Is Born

Three: Rachel and Nashville

Four: The Dueling Judge

Five: Hostility with the Creeks

Six: Old Hickory

Seven: The Creek War Begins

Eight: Old Hickory Faces Mutiny

Nine: The Battle of Horseshoe Bend

Ten: The Creek War Ends: The Treaty of Fort Jackson

Eleven: Fort Bowyer and Pensacola

Twelve: New Orleans: Preparation for Battle

Thirteen: The Battle of New Orleans: Beginnings

Fourteen: New Orleans: The Battle of January 8, 1815

Fifteen: The Hero of New Orleans

Sixteen: The Indian Question

Seventeen: The First Seminole War

Eighteen: Jackson as President

Nineteen: Legacy

Notes

Bibliography

A Note from the Editor

TO CONTEMPLATE THE lives of America’s generals is to behold both the best of us as a nation and the lesser angels of human nature, to bask in genius, and to be repulsed by arrogance and folly. It is these dichotomies that have defined the widely differing attitudes toward the man on horseback, which have alternatively shaped the eras of our national memory. We have had our seasons of hagiography, in which our commanders can do no wrong and in which they are presented to the young, in particular, as unerring examples of nobility and manhood. We have had our revisionist seasons, in which all power corrupts—military power in particular—and in which the general is a reviled symbol of societal ills.

Fortunately, we have matured. We have left our adolescence with its gushing extremes and have come to a more temperate view. Now, we are capable as a nation of celebrating Washington’s gifts to us while admitting that he was not always a gifted tactician in the field. We can honor Patton’s battlefield genius and decry the deformities of soul that diminished him. We can learn both from MacArthur at Inchon and from MacArthur at Wake Island.

We can also move beyond the mythologies of film and leaden textbook to know the vital humanity and the agonizing conflicts, to find a literary experience of war that puts the smell of boot leather and canvas in the nostrils and both the horror and the glory of battle in the heart. This will endear our nation’s generals to us and help us learn the lessons they have to teach. Of this we are in desperate need, for they offer lessons of manhood in an age of androgyny, of courage in an age of terror of prescience in an age of myopia, and of self-mastery in an age of sloth. To know their story and their meaning, then, is the goal here and the hope that we will emerge from the experience a more learned, perhaps more gallant, and, certainly, more grateful people.

Stephen Mansfield

Series Editor, The Generals

Prologue

The reign of King MOB seemed triumphant. I was glad to escape from the scene as soon as possible.

—Judge Story, John Quincy Adams supporter at the inaugural ball

THE MORNING OF Wednesday, March 4, 1829, dawned sunny and bright in the nation’s capital of Washington. Although patches of snow still lingered on the ground, it was a perfect day for a celebration. Not a room could be found as the city swelled by as much as thirty thousand spectators according to one account, many sleeping five to a bed. They had come from all over the nation to witness history in the making.¹ For today, the Tennessean Major General Andrew Jackson, the people’s choice, was to be inaugurated the seventh president of the United States. It was to be an event unlike any previous inauguration because Jackson was a politician unlike any of his predecessors.

Born poor, he was a self-made man—one who represented the South and the western frontier and its expansionist interests. Jackson and Reform had been the campaign slogan, and change was about to happen. For the first time in our history, the president was not a member of the economic or social elite, and he did not come from the Eastern Seaboard state of either Massachusetts or Virginia. He was elected largely by voters who were not previously a part of the political process. All free white males now cast their ballots. Many were poor farmers on the rugged frontier, or mechanics (a term used to include all urban workers) and small businessmen. He was also the first and only president who carried in his body two bullets: one near his heart from a duel, and one in his shoulder from a shootout. He was indeed a change from the past.

Building on his reputation as a strong military leader, Superior Court judge, Indian fighter, representative of the common man as congressman and senator, and Washington outsider, General Jackson’s victory symbolized a fundamental shift in both the conduct and the perception of the office of president. No longer would Eastern elites rule for their own regional and self-interest. With Jackson as the leader of the modern Democratic Party, no longer would the masses be underrepresented. The people now had a champion, a symbol, and they came out en masse to show their support.

By ten o’clock the Avenue was crowded with carriages of every description, wrote one eyewitness and author, Margaret Bayard Smith, from the splendid Barronet and coach, down to wagons and carts, filled with women and children, some in finery and some in rags for it was the peoples President and all would see him.² An early biographer of Jackson, James Parton, wrote, It seemed as if half the nation had rushed at once into the Capital.³ Suddenly huzzas filled the air as the general himself emerged from Gadsby’s hotel to walk up to the Capitol.

Recognizing the importance of symbolism, he rejected a military procession in favor of one where he could mingle with his adoring supporters. He wore a simple black suit with a black tie covered by a long black overcoat. Impeded by the cheering crowd, the tall, erect, bare-headed Jackson and his entourage walked slowly down Pennsylvania Avenue. Jostling in the crowd for a better view, someone remarked, There is the old man and his gray hair, there is the old veteran, there is Jackson.⁴

Entering the Capitol through the basement, he first attended the swearing in of Vice President John C. Calhoun in the Senate chambers. Jackson and Calhoun had won one of the bitterest campaigns in American history. Conspicuous by his absence, the outgoing John Quincy Adams had made known his intention not to be present at his successor’s ceremony. Because Jackson believed Adams responsible for slander to his recently deceased wife, his beloved Rachel, the newly elected president was fine with this decision. Only polite yet frosty messages passed between the two. Adams, who would spend the day at the nearby home of a friend, sent Jackson a message stating he would vacate the White House and have it ready for occupancy on the fourth. Jackson sarcastically replied he hoped this didn’t inconvenience his household staff. Finally it was time for the winner to take the oath of office.

Thousands and thousands of people, without distinction of rank, collected in an immense mass round the Capitol, wrote Mrs. Smith, silent, orderly and tranquil, with their eyes fixed on the front of that edifice[the Capitol], waiting for the appearance of the President on the portico.⁵ It is beautiful, it is sublime! said Francis Scott Key, who had penned the song that was to become our national anthem.⁶ At precisely noon to the sound of a military band and the discharge of cannon, Jackson appeared on a section of the east portico of the Capitol, a tradition continuing to this day. He bowed to the waiting crowd restrained only by a ship’s cable stretched to the breaking point. At his appearance they erupted. The shout that rent the air, still resounds in my ears, remembered Mrs. Smith.⁷ Another observer wrote, As if by miracle; all hats were off at once, and the dark tint which usually pervades a mixed map of men was turned, as if by magic, into the bright hue of ten thousand upturned and exultant human faces, radiant with sudden joy.⁸ Soon the crowd quieted and awaited the inaugural address of their champion.

With his hands trembling, Jackson read his speech. Although he was capable of moving hardened military men with his rhetoric, this was not the time for motivation. In his ten-minute address, one of the briefest in history, President Jackson offered vague promises. He promised to reform Washington by the correction of those abuses that have brought the patronage of the Federal Government into conflict with the freedom of elections, reform finances by the extinguishment of the national debt, and balance the power of the federal government with states’ rights, taking care not to confound the powers they have reserved to themselves with those they have granted to the Confederacy [national government]. He closed with the words that he expected a firm reliance on the goodness of the Power whose providence mercifully protected our national infancy, and has since upheld our liberties. His prayer was that He will continue to make our beloved country the object of His divine care and gracious benediction.⁹

Although the crowd could not hear a word of what he said, they cheered lustily at its conclusion. Chief Justice John Marshall then administered the oath. After reciting the oath with a forceful voice while keeping his hand on the Bible, the President took it [the Bible] from his hands, pressed his lips to it, laid it reverently down, then bowed again to the people—Yes, to the people in all their majesty. Again the spectators erupted.¹⁰

A mad rush ensued as the cable barrier was broken by the mass of humanity trying to touch their hero. With great difficulty Jackson made his way from the Capitol to Pennsylvania Avenue. Finally he mounted his horse and moved toward the Executive Mansion, followed by the human wave. The living mass was impenetrable, wrote Mrs. Smith, Country men, farmers, gentlemen, mounted and dismounted, boys, women and children, black and white. Carriages, wagons and carts all pursuing him to the President’s house.¹¹ There the real celebration was about to take place. The majesty of the people was about to become the reign of King MOB.

When Jackson and his entourage finally made their appearance at the White House, what a scene they found. It was like the inundation of the northern barbarians into Rome,¹² wrote Parton. The celebration is perhaps best described by those present. "The Majesty of the People had disappeared, and a rabble, a mob, of boys, negros, women, children, scrambling, fighting, romping. What a pity what a pity! No arrangements had been made, no police officers placed on duty and the whole house had been inundated by the rabble mob.¹³ The crowd consisted not only of supporters and well-wishers, but also people seeking patronage from the new administration. Here was the corpulent epicure grunting and sweating for breath, the dandy wishing he had no toes—the tight laced Miss, fearing her person might receive some permanently deforming impulse—the miser hunting for his pocketbook—the courtier looking for his watch—and the office seeker in an agony to reach the President.¹⁴ The Executive Mansion, the White House, the president’s residence, hitherto off limits except to a chosen few, had been converted into the people’s place," and they were going to make the most of their opportunity to celebrate.

A profusion of refreshments had been provided. Orange punch by barrels full was made, but as the waiters opened the door to bring it out, a rush would be made, one writer observed, the glasses broken, the pails of liquor upset, and the most painful confusion prevailed . . . wine and ice creams could not be brought out to the ladies, and tubs of punch were taken from the lower story into the garden, to lead the crowd from the rooms.¹⁵ Jackson himself appeared to be in danger of injury by being pressed into the walls, so great was the number trying to squeeze into the rooms. Part of the solution was to get the exhausted president away from the confusion. With arms locked his aides pushed through the mob and took him back to Gadsby’s. The remaining piece of the puzzle was to move the refreshments outside, knowing the thirsty would follow. It worked. Jackson was rescued, but the party continued.

Cut glass and china to the amount of several thousand dollars had been broken in the struggle to get the refreshments, punch and other articles had been carried out in tubs and other buckets, but had it been in hogsheads it would have been insufficient, ice creams, and cakes, and lemonade for 20,000 people, for it is said that number were there, tho’ I think the number exaggerated, detailed Mrs. Smith. Ladies fainted, men were seen with bloody noses and such a scene of confusion took place as is impossible to describe,—those who got in could not get out by the door again, but had to scramble out of windows.¹⁶ Mr. Gilmer, a representative from Georgia, was one who had to leave through an open window, in doing which, I had to sustain with a weak leg from a fracture scarcely healed the weight of Mrs. Floyd equaling three hundred pounds.¹⁷

On such an occasion it was difficult to keep anything like order, but it was mortifying to see men, with boots heavy with mud, standing on the damask satin covered chairs, from their eagerness to get a sight of the President.¹⁸ Another observer was even more specific: One hundred-and-fifty dollar official chairs [were] profaned by the feet of clod-hoppers.¹⁹ Perhaps Judge Story, a great supporter of Adams and critic of Jackson, summarized the opposition feelings: I never saw such a mixture. The reign of King MOB seemed triumphant. I was glad to escape from the scene as soon as possible.²⁰ Few truly realized the fundamental shift in American politics that took place with this inauguration.

Although the total value of the destruction was no more than a few thousand dollars, the image of the change in Washington cannot be overstated. Gone were the days when the president was remote from the average person—aloof from the rough-and-tumble of day-to-day politics—and representative of the elite. Now the president was expected to rub shoulders with all social classes. Also past was the custom of only well-dressed elites coming to the presidential levees. Buckskins and homespun were now common sights. Jackson was the very personification of the average citizen, the one who worked for a living, unafraid to get his hands dirty, and a symbol of the majesty of the common man.

At the opening of the nineteenth century, America was changing. As the population grew and moved west, the center of political power moved with it. The powerful wealthy traders and large landholders of the Eastern Seaboard states, who had dominated and ruled the country since its beginning, now had to reckon with the growing number of frontiersmen and smaller landholders whose interests were different and often at odds with theirs. They demanded land and access to markets. It mattered little if those lands belonged to native peoples or to nations across the seas. Fortune favored those who took what they wanted and were prepared to fight to maintain it. Support went to those who promised to open these lands to settlement and access to water transportation routes for trade. The stage was set for a hero, a man of the people, to emerge and represent this new, more democratic spirit. Onto this stage came the man who would give voice to their aspirations and would himself be a product of the opportunities available for a man who knew what he wanted and was prepared to take it whatever the cost.

How a poor southern boy, orphaned at fifteen, with seemingly no other credentials than a contentious iron will, a desire to improve his situation in life, and a belief in the power and greatness of the American citizen, arose to become president is the topic of this work. Its purpose is to demonstrate that the leadership qualities developed by Jackson as he rose in station by hard work, a firm belief in his abilities, faith in God, sheer force of will, help from others, and perhaps a bit of luck propelled him from an obscure rural village to the epitome of public office, ushered in what one author labeled The Age of Jackson, and fundamentally changed the paradigm of how Americans selected their leaders.

The second president to emerge as a national hero through his military successes, he would certainly not be the last. Jackson, however, had none of the social or financial advantages inherited by our first military hero made president, George Washington. Traditionally military rank was determined by