In Maunsel White, General Jackson had at New Orleans a factor who stood high in the cotton trade and who could be depended on to protect the Tennessee planter in marketing his crops to the best advantage. Captain White was not only Jackson’s factor but his friend and a former comrade at arms in the New Orleans campaign, and he took great pride in getting the highest possible price for the Hermitage crops.
In January, 1831, White wrote to Jackson, then in the White House, that the flatboats had arrived from the Hermitage with their cargo of fifty-nine bales and that the overseer was to be congratulated on its quality and condition as it was “without blemish.” The best offer he had got at that time, he wrote, was 9 cents; but he expressed a determination to hold for 10 cents “which it is fully worth” he added, “unless we receive worse news from the unsettled state of politics.” He mentioned the popular belief that a general war in Europe was perhaps impending, and slyly added: “On this subject, however, you must be better advised than anyone else in these states; and if it were not asking too much, or what were improper for me to ask, I would ask your opinion on that subject.” An inside tip from the President on an impending war would be worth a fortune to a New Orleans cotton broker; but there is no evidence that Jackson gave Captain White any information on the subject. This was before the day of White House “leaks.”
The following year White wrote Jackson that he had sold part of his crop for 11½ cents in New Orleans and shipped part of it to Liverpool where it commanded 8½d sterling, stating that “your cotton this year has brought the highest price both at home and abroad.”
It was the custom of the Hermitage household, when shipping the cotton crop to Captain White each year, to send along a list of groceries needed for the year. When sending this year’s supply of groceries back to the Hermitage it was Captain White’s custom to send along some kind of a present to General Jackson—a barrel of oranges, or sugar or molasses. It was Captain White’s custom to say jokingly that the present was sent to sweeten General Jackson’s tooth; so in 1842 when the General had his sole remaining molar extracted he notified his New Orleans friend that it would no longer be necessary to sweeten his tooth as his last tooth was gone.
The passing of the Jacksonian teeth, by the way, had an amusing aftermath. Learning of his toothless condition, a celebrated dentist asked the privilege of making him a set of false teeth, seeing in it an opportunity to gain some publicity for himself. The General consented and the teeth were produced after careful measurements had been made. False teeth of that day were still of rather crude design, the upper and lower plates being hinged together at the back and the opening and closing facilitated by means of a spring. General Jackson gave his new teeth their first try-out on the occasion of a public dinner in Nashville; but while partaking of the first course he had the misfortune to have the spring get stuck in such a way that he could not close his mouth. He managed to remove the offending apparatus behind the cover of his napkin, but he was much embarrassed by the episode and returned the teeth to the dentist who made them with the suggestion that they might be generously presented to some “poor widow woman in need of the like.”
Andrew Jackson was a progressive farmer and was prompt to adopt new methods and devices. The cotton gin was first introduced into Tennessee in 1803; and the state of Tennessee purchased from the inventor, Eli Whitney, the patent rights for the state, enacting legislation which placed a tax on all gins. There being some dispute about the legal title to the machine, the arrangement was not perfected until late in 1806, at which time a model gin was set up in Knoxville and one in Nashville, these models to serve as patterns for the citizens who wanted to build gins. Jackson was among the first to install a gin in his part of the state, and the minutes of the Davidson County court show that he made bond of $5,000 and subscribed to the following oath: “I, Andrew Jackson, do solemnly swear that I will well and truly inspect or cause to be inspected all bales of cotton that shall pass through my press, marking the bales according to the goodness thereof, agreeable to the directions of the act of the Assembly in such cases made and provided; so help me God.”
General Jackson had recurring bad luck with his cotton crop from time to time up to the very year of his death. On February 10th, 1845, just four months before he died, in a letter to A. J. Donelson, then United States Minister to the Republic of Texas, he mentioned that his current crop of cotton, amounting to 37,000 pounds, had been “forced into the market” (for what reason is not revealed) and that it netted only $1,312. This, he said, after paying the overseer and drafts on the cotton “left us only $36 to pay our debts here.” To add to his discomfiture at this time, his overseer in Mississippi misappropriated the proceeds of that plantation’s crop and left the General in a temporary financial stringency. But Jackson immediately put hands to work cutting wood on the Mississippi plantation (wood was the fuel for the Mississippi River steamboats then), and stated that if this did not relieve him from debt he was determined to sell the lower plantation and enough of its slaves to put him square with the world again.
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Although cotton was looked upon as the principal and most important crop of the Hermitage farm, the General really derived the greatest personal pleasure (and a substantial part of his income) from the horses that were raised on the farm.
When he resigned from the Superior Court of Tennessee in 1804 and concentrated all his ability and energy on the rehabilitation of his private affairs, he wisely decided to go into stock-breeding on an ambitious scale. He was admirably suited to the business of breeding fine horses. In the first place, he admired and loved a fine piece of horseflesh. From his earliest youth he had been interested in racing, gaining his first taste of “the sport of kings” at the Charleston meets in his youthful days when he was living with the Crawfords. When he came to Tennessee he came riding one blooded horse and leading another, and he was always to be found among the foremost spectators or participants if there were a horse-race anywhere in his neighborhood. He loved horses and, in the words of one of his biographers, “he knew all about the noble animal from pedigree to pathology.” That is no idle use of words, either, for Andrew Jackson studied horses, their records and their breeding; and, in an emergency, he showed that he was skilled in the art of the veterinary surgeon. A goodly share of the books in his library are on the subject of horses and the turf.