Both he and Rachel loved young people. They had no children, but in 1809 they adopted a baby—a nephew of Mrs. Jackson’s—and down through the years the Hermitage was enlivened by the happy laughter of children and of young people: sons and daughters of neighbors, of Mrs. Jackson’s kin, and of the General’s friends and associates. There have been many brides and many happy wedding parties at the old mansion, and the General himself was not averse to lending a helping hand in cases where Dan Cupid did not make progress rapidly enough to suit him. Nothing reveals the gentle, human side of Andrew Jackson more completely than a study of the contacts made through various avenues of his home life. Nor can anything else as thoroughly prove his wisdom and good common sense. He had the greatest deference for women and a great tenderness for children. He was a compassionate master of slaves, a great lover of horses and fine cattle, and an excellent farmer. He was a shrewd trader and a meticulous observer of his own debts to others—and theirs to him. His only bad business deals, and they were not many, were those where his affection for a kinsman or a friend got the better of his cold reasoning power. The picture which it is hoped that this little volume will create in the minds of the readers is that of Andrew Jackson, the husband and father, the host to friends and neighbors, and to such of the nation’s great as came to his doors; the farmer who delighted in the productivity of his broad acres; the merchant who rode each day to his store at Hunter’s Hill or Clover Bottom; the warrior who returned with the laurels of New Orleans to a log house; the statesman, weary with fame and the long, lonely years, who came back to his Hermitage to sit out the remainder of his days near the tomb of his beloved Rachel.