I have just finished a novel on Andrew Jackson’s wife, The President’s Lady written by Irving Stone in 1951:
In this acclaimed biographical novel, Irving Stone brings to life the tender and poignant love story of Rachel and Andrew Jackson. “Beyond any doubt one of the great romances of all time.” — The Saturday Review of Literature.
An incredible story of both of them, but it ends just as he becomes president and she almost exactly at the same time passes away. She never even made it to the inauguration. They both had an amazing life – he meets her when she is 16 and already married in what we would today call an abusive relationship. But in 1792 a divorce was only available at the initiative of her husband, which must go through the state legislature which her first husband, unbeknownst to her, never undertakes although she thinks he has. So beyond everything else – including a duel to the death – the marriage is a major political scandal where he is elected although she is, according to the morality of the time, an adulteress!
He arrives in Washington without his beloved wife and finds the atmosphere cold and distant. This, however, is how the book ends.
But he reckoned without the mob of his followers who had come to Washington City from ever part of the Union to witness his inauguration. They poured down Pennsylvania Avenue, streamed through the gates of the White House, found their way into the East Room, devoured the ice cream and cakes and orange punch. They climbed on the furniture to catch a glimpse of Andrew, soiling the damask chairs with their muddy boots, staining the carpets, breaking glasses and china, shouting and surging and pushing, all thousands of them, wanting to reach Andrew and embrace him.
He stood at the back of the room, imprisoned, yet feeling the first glint of happiness since Rachael’s death. These were the people; they had stood by him. They had loved Rachael, they had vindicated her. For that, he loved them, and would fight for them the rest of his days.
They were “the deplorables” of their own time. I was not the first to notice how similar Donald Trump is to Andrew Jackson, but it is more obvious to me now than it was before.
The video of the Battle of New Orleans above is all that I can find of the movie made from the book at the time. In the book, the battle is a minor moment in the story since it is mostly about her and not him. Lots about him, but almost everything is only seen through her own eyes. If she was not present, virtually all other events are only described where she is being told about them either by her husband or by others. A brilliant book and a story I had never even heard hinted at before. This, btw, is the flyer for movie that was made from the book.
Even more than before, I understand that Donald Trump is the Andrew Jackson of our own time.
And here is The Battle of New Orleans as sung by Johnny Horton:
As amazing to me as anything is that this is a compilation of the pictures with the words put together by Diana West which has had almost 18 million hits. If only American Betrayal had had as many hits and readers.
And then there is this, the story of how The Star Spangled Banner was written.
I may have been born and brought up in Canada where the War of 1812 has always had a different meaning. But I am at one with freedom and liberty and in the world today it means to side with the United States of America against its enemies both foreign and domestic.