nly, but with great neatness; dignified and grave--I had
almost said stern, but always courteous and affable; with keen,
searching eyes, iron-gray hair standing stiffly up from an expansive
forehead; a face somewhat furrowed by care and time, and expressive of
deep thought and active intellect, and you have before you the General
Jackson who has lived in my memory from my childhood. Side by side
with him stands a coarse-looking, stout little old woman, whom you
might easily mistake for his washerwoman, were it not for the marked
attention he pays her, and the love and admiration she manifests for
him. Her eyes are bright, and express great kindness of heart; her
face is rather broad, her features plain, her complexion so dark as
almost to suggest a mingling of races in that climate where such
things sometimes occur. But withal, her face is so good natured and
motherly, that you immediately feel at ease with her, however shy you
may be of the stately person by her side. Her figure is rather full,
but loosely and carelessly dressed, with no regard to the fashions of
the day, so that, when she is seated, she seems to settle into
herself, in a manner that is neither graceful nor elegant. I have seen
such forms since, and have thought I should like to experiment upon
them with French corsets, to see what they would look like if they
were gathered into some permanent shape. This is Mrs. Jackson. I have
heard my mother say, she could imagine that in her early youth, at the
time the General yielded to her fascinations, she may have been a
bright, sparkling brunette, perhaps may have even passed for a beauty;
but being without any culture, and out of the way of refining
influences, she was at the time we knew her, such as I have described.
Their affection for each other was of the tenderest kind. The General
always treated her as if she was his pride and glory, and words can
faintly describe her devotion to him. The "Nashville Inn" was at this
time filled with celebrities, nearly all warm supporters of the
General. The Stokes family, of North Carolina, were there, particular
friends of his; the Blackburns, and many other old families, whose
names have escaped my memory. I well recollect to what disadvantage
Mrs. Jackson appeared, with her dowdyfied figure, her inelegant
conversation, and her total want of refinement, in the midst of this
bevy of highly-cultivated, aristocratic women; and I recall very
distinctly how the ladies of