he becomes the admiration of his day, and the comfort and stay of his parents in their declining years."

Again the same piety shows itself, when on the 19th of September, 1828, he pens these lines:

"We have a very doleful prospect here; we have not had rain to wet the earth one inch for three months-every vegetable burnt up-our cattle starving the springs in many places dried up and no prospect of rain— the earth so parched that we can sow no fall crop-no turnips, potatoes or cabbages—and our crops of cotton and corn, not half crop. Still I trust in a kind Providence who doeth all things well, that he will not scourge us with famine."

On the 18th of September, 1828, he says:

"I have met with a great bereavement. I have lost my friend, Col. Earle, who died on the 16th inst, with a few days' sickness. He was my steadfast friend, my traveling companion; he was pure, upright, and an honest man; but a kind Providence has removed him from me to a happier clime than this. I will soon follow him, when I hope to meet with him in the realms of bliss, where the wicked cease to trouble and the weary are at rest."

The same Christian resignation and confidence is exhibited in a letter of the 4th of October, 1843:

"I thank you and your amiable family for the interest you take in my health and life. A kind and benevolent Providence has thus far prolonged my existence here below, regardless of the wishes of my enemies. How much longer it may be His gracious will to prolong my days, God knoweth. I await patiently His will, always ready to say: 'The Lord's will be done!" And again, on the 20th of December, 1844, he says: "My own health is not improved. I am suffering under great debility and shortness of breath, but submitting to the Lord's will with calmness and resignation."

It is not expected through these letters to give a complete portrait of General Jackson, but rather to present for the use of the future historian. some of the distinguishing traits of his character, and correct many erroneous impressions. He had unlimited confidence in the good and safe instincts of the people; while his indomitable energy in the field and in the cabinet, and his thorough honesty of purpose, which was proof against all temptation, never permitted him to hesitate or to halt in his grand march. His intellect was of a sound texture; he was gifted with quick perception and decision, with superior discrimination and judgment; but there was in it neither amplitude nor brilliancy. It was irresistible like the

club of Hercules within arm's length, but it would not have flashed through the air, between heaven and earth, like Apollo's shaft, and struck its aim on the very verge of the horizon. The grasp of his mind, as far as it could reach, was sure and overpowering; but that mind, improved only by a very limited education, had been left chiefly to its natural resources, and cannot be supposed, in consequence of this untoward circumstance, to have obtained that degree of development of which it was capable. Therefore, exalted as his place is in the history of his country, it is not to be wondered at if he is not placed, intellectually, on the same level with some of his illustrious contemporaries and rivals. In other respects, he towered above the host during his long career. He possessed that kind of courage which, in the opinion of Napoleon the Great, is the most rare of all-that courage which consists in calmly taking a determination in the solitude of the closet and in steadfastly adhering to it, be the consequences what they may. His belief in the moral and intellectual rectitude of the people and in their capacity for self-government, was as intense as that of the most devout worshiper in the object of his adoration. It was with him a sort of religion. Thus his love of popular government was the ruling passion of his life-strong even in death; and his conviction of its being the best for all mankind, and the one destined to be ultimately the most durable, was so deeply inlaid that it became, as it were, a component part of his His integrity was so pure and his patriotism so vivid that they diffused a peculiar illumination through his mind, and supplied in him the place of genius. To those two sources he is indebted for his best inspirations and for the grandeur of his career. They threw around him an almost visible halo which struck the people with admiration and awe, and which inspired them with implicit faith in him whom they had surnamed "Old Hickory," as expressive of the rugged and solid substance of which they thought he was made. It invested him with all the powers of a dictator, and he repaid the unbounded confidence of the many-headed sovereign with absolute fealty and devotion. But he never courted popularity. Before resolving or acting, he never bent his ear to the ground to listen to its pulsations, or to that low rumbling which, running over its surface, indicates to time-serving and cunning politicians which way is the march. of the people, and enables them to turn in that direction, and place themselves, if possible, at the head of the moving mass. But, erect and lofty, he looked forward to discover the landmarks and beacons of right and truth, and toward them he strode fearlessly, without previously ascertaining the number of his followers. Whatever were the errors of which he was susceptible, it was impossible, morally and intellectually organized as

nature.

we know him to have been, that he should ever have stooped to deception, trickery and flattery. His indignation was fiercely excited by the bare shadow of meanness and treachery. That candor and truth which he so earnestly recommended in his letters, he observed and practiced himself. If we can easily imagine emergencies when General Jackson might have remained silent from policy, still it is impossible for one who has the slightest insight into his character, even to suppose that his stern and inflexible honesty could ever have been brought to compromise with truth-the more so because what was the organic disposition of his temper had been strengthened by an influence which so very few knew to exist in one to whom many attributed all the evil propensities of the frequenter of the cock-pit and of the horse-race. I mean his sincere Christian faith and his reliance on the incessant interference or interposition of that Power to which he so often alludes in his letters, and which, even in his secret trials and afflictions, he calls "a kind and benevolent Providence."

As a member of the committee appointed by the Legislature to superintend the erection of a suitable monument to General Jackson in one of the public squares of New Orleans, the author of this article cheerfully discharged the duties imposed on him, and has the satisfaction to see the equestrian statue of the hero, proudly standing on the very spot where he marshaled the patriotic band of citizen soldiers, who, under his leadership, triumphed over the veterans of England. Thus has nobly been exhibited the gratitude of the State which owed so much to his prowess.

Charles Gayarré

ANDRÉ'S LANDING-PLACE AT HAVERSTRAW

A MOOTED QUESTION SETTLED

Among the localities made memorable by events in our Revolutionary history and worthy of being identified and marked, may be mentioned the place where Major John André, the spy, landed for the purpose of communicating with Benedict Arnold. All other places visited by André during the fatal journey, which began when he left the deck of the Vulture and ended when he was laid to rest on the hill-side at Tappan, have long been established beyond the shadow of a doubt. As this point seems the only one upon which any uncertainty rests, I have recently examined. the evidence in regard to it, and have made the accompanying map from an actual survey for the benefit of the readers of the MAGAZINE OF AMERICAN HISTORY. According to the statement of Joshua Hett Smith in his "Narrative of Events leading to the Death of Major André," two parties left his house at Haverstraw Heights on the evening of September 21, 1780. One of these, consisting of himself and two boatmen, rowed from Crom Island, around Grassy Point, thence down the Hudson to the Vulture, where they received Major André under the assumed name of "Mr. Anderson," and conveyed him to the place of rendezvous. The other party consisted of General Arnold and one of Smith's servants, who proceeded on horseback through Haverstraw, about five miles, to the place previously agreed upon for their interview. The following is Smith's ac count of the affair:

*

*

*

"Mr. Anderson being ready, we left the ship, and were rowed in a short time to the western shore, to the place which Gen. Arnold had appointed for the interview. This was at the foot of a mountain called the Long Clove, near the low-water mark, whither my servant had conducted Gen. Arnold on horseback, he being still lame from his wounds. On my approach to the place of appointment, I found Gen. Arnold ready to receive me, hid among firs. *** He appeared much agitated and expressed chagrin at the disappointment of not seeing Col. Robinson. He desired me however to conduct Mr. Anderson' to him, which being done, he requested me to remain with the hands at the boat. I went as directed but felt greatly mortified at not being present at the interview; * * * at length they continued such time in conference, that I deemed it expedient to inform them of the approaching dawn of day. Shortly