The Hermitage, Home of Old HickoryHorn, Stanley F.
History
The Hermitage, Home of Old Hickory
Horn, Stanley F.
Hermitage (Hermitage, Tenn.); Jackson, Andrew, 1767-1845 -- Homes and haunts -- Tennessee -- Hermitage
Parson Cartright, who was a sort of pioneer Billy Sunday, had hardly
more than announced his text than General Jackson entered the church and
stood for a moment in the aisle looking for a seat. The resident
minister seated behind the Reverend Cartright pulled at his coat-tails
and said in a stage whisper: “General Jackson has come in! General
Jackson has come in!” This interruption aroused the indignation of the
fiery parson and so he retorted in a voice loud enough to be heard by
all: “Who is General Jackson? If he don’t get his soul converted, God
will damn him as quick as he would a Guinea nigger!” General Jackson, so
it is told, joined in the mirth aroused by this spirited retort (a
near-blasphemy in those days of Jackson’s transcendent popularity), and
the preaching proceeded without further untoward incident. But the
pastor of the church was fearful that the General might have been
offended by the outspoken visiting clergyman, and he set out early the
next morning to make an apology for the incident. It happened, however,
that General Jackson met Mr. Cartright on the street face to face that
morning and, reaching out his hand, said: “Mr. Cartright, you are a man
after my own heart. I am very much surprised at Mr. Mac (the local
pastor) to think he would suppose that I would be offended at you. No,
sir, I told him that I highly approved of your independence; that a
minister of Jesus Christ ought to love everybody and fear no mortal man.
I told him that if I had a few thousand such fearless, independent
officers as you were, and a well-drilled army, I could take old
England.”
This episode comes down to us in Parson Cartright’s own memoirs, and it
may be that it has gained something in the telling. It does not,
however, appear out of character for either of them. Mr. Cartright was
the kind of man who would not hesitate to say what he thought, in the
pulpit or out; and Jackson was an admirer of spunk wherever he found it.
The parson’s credibility, however, is somewhat damaged by another
Jackson anecdote he tells.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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