Life on the Hermitage estate had its full share of the charm of the
old South. After breakfasting at eight or nine, the proprietor spent
the day riding over his broad acres, giving instructions to his
workmen, keeping up his accounts, chatting with neighbors and
passers-by, and devouring the newspapers with a zeal born of
unremitting interest in public affairs. After the evening meal the
family gathered on the cool piazza in summer, or around the blazing
hearth of the great living room in winter, and spent the hours until
the early bedtime in telling stories, discussing local and national
happenings, or listening to the news of distant localities as retailed
by the casual visitor. The hospitality of the Jackson home was
proverbial. The General's army friends came often to see him.
Political leaders and advisers flocked to the place. Clergymen of all
denominations were received with special warmth by Mrs. Jackson.
Eastern men of distinction, when traveling to the West, came to pay
their respects. No foreigner who penetrated as far as the Mississippi
Valley would think of returning to his native land without calling
upon the picturesque figure at the Hermitage.
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