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
When the fire occurred Andrew, junior, and his family went to live
temporarily at the nearby Hunter’s Hill place, but later took a house in
Nashville. In November, 1834, Mrs. Jackson and the children went to
Washington to spend the winter in the White House, with interspersed
trips to Philadelphia to visit her family and buy furniture for the
Hermitage, but Andrew stayed in Nashville to look after the rebuilding
work. He joined Sarah and the children for a vacation with the President
at the Rip Raps in July and August, 1835, but he came back to Nashville
in September.
III: RESCUE AND RESTORATION
Those who believe in special dispensations of Fate affecting human
affairs must feel that there has ever been watching over the Hermitage
some kindly guardian angel to protect it from the wasting touch of time
and especially to frustrate the numerous and varied efforts that have
been made to utilize it for some purpose which would have made it
impossible to maintain it as a national shrine for patriotic Americans.
Andrew Jackson had been dead hardly ten years before it was proposed to
convert his old home into a military school. Immediately following the
War Between the States, during the Reconstruction period, it was
suggested that it would be an ideal location for a home for Federal
soldiers. Later it was selected as the proper place for a Confederate
veterans’ home. Then some misguided persons wanted to establish a reform
school and penal farm there. Still later a movement was started to
convert the plantation into a model farm for educational purposes. These
were but a few of the plans advanced for making use of the Hermitage;
but in every instance a benevolent Providence intervened and helped to
preserve it as simply the home of the patriotic old pioneer Tennessean
whose burning love for his country transcended every other emotion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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