Mrs. Jackson sighed for her quiet home and her little church during her stay in Florida. Pensacola was so different, and the people so entirely divided in all their tastes and pursuits from the devout Christian matron, that she could not be satisfied. “Three Sabbaths,” she says, “I spent in this house before the country was in possession under American government. The Sabbath profanely kept, a great deal of noise and swearing in the streets; shops kept open, trade going on I think more than on any other day. They were so boisterous on that day I sent Major Stanton to say to them that the approaching Sunday would be differently kept. And must I say, the worst people here are the outcast Americans and negroes! Yesterday I had the happiness of witnessing the truth of what I had said. Great order was observed; the doors kept shut; the gambling houses demolished; fiddling and dancing not heard any more on the Lord’s day; cursing not to be heard. “Pensacola is a perfect plain: the land nearly as white as flour, yet productive of fine peaches, oranges in abundance, grapes, figs, pomegranates, etc. Fine flowers grow spontaneously, for they have neglected the gardens, expecting a change of government. The town is immediately on the bay—the most beautiful water prospect I ever saw; and from 10 o’clock in the morning until 10 at night we have the finest sea-breeze. There is something in it so exhilarating, so pure, so wholesome, it enlivens the whole system. All the houses look in ruins, old as time. Many squares of the town appear grown over with the thickest shrubs, weeping-willows, and the Pride of China: all look neglected. The inhabitants all speak Spanish and French. Some speak four or five languages. Such a mixed multitude you nor any of us ever had an idea of. There are fewer white people far than any other, mixed with all nations under the canopy of heaven, almost in nature’s darkness.” On the 3d of November, General and Mrs. Jackson arrived at the Hermitage, delighted to be again at that home within whose doors the angels, Peace and Happiness, awaited their return, and sat with folded wings. General Jackson set out for Washington, accompanied by his wife, in 1824, going all the way in their own coach and four, and being twenty-eight days on the journey. In a letter to a friend in Nashville she says: “We are boarding in the same house with the nation’s guest, General Lafayette. When we first came to this house, General Jackson said he would go and pay the Marquis the first visit. Both having the same desire, and at the same time, they met on the entry of the stairs. It was truly interesting. At Charleston, General Jackson saw him on the field of battle; the one a boy of twelve, the Marquis, twenty-three.”