The bear-sized man, on trial for mutilating a child’s ears, stormed about the court, cursing out judge, jury and any man who would try to subdue him. Russell Bean, the ‘great, hulking fellow,’ as one commentator described him, had had enough of lawyers and law books. Bean marched out of the small courthouse into the town square of Jonesborough, Tennessee, wielding a pistol and bowie knife and threatening to kill anyone who dared approach.
A crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. Since, as time passed, no one attempted to apprehend the fugitive, it appeared that Mr. Bean would retain his freedom.
Suddenly, a challenger appeared in the doorway of the courthouse. All eyes focused on the tall, thin man with a pistol clutched in each hand. He advanced deliberately toward Bean. All the bystanders and even the raging giant fell silent. As the pursuer leveled one of his pistols, the onlookers were amazed to see that it was none other than the presiding judge himself. Andrew Jackson of the Tennessee Superior Court had come, determined to preserve justice on the frontier against any threat.
Before the Creek War and the Battle of New Orleans made Jackson a national hero, he earned his living in the legal profession. It may seem strange that someone like Jackson, who famously preferred action to words and would one day defy a Supreme Court decision as president, should turn to the practice of law. But the establishment of justice in the early days of the republic often required a man of Jackson’s skill and demeanor.
In the early 19th century, Tennessee lay on the edge of American civilization. Indian raids, encouraged by both British and Spanish colonial leaders, were still common. The nation’s new capital, Washington, D.C., was more than 600 miles away, with not nearly the influence on local affairs now exercised by the federal government. Life was tough and, as one writer put it, often the settlers would rather have ‘an ounce of justice than a pound of law.’ Jackson fit the bill. He practiced his profession with the same righteous intensity he brought to all of his endeavors.
Jackson first began to take an interest in law following the American Revolution. Several factors in the state of the nation made this an attractive choice. America’s recently earned independence meant a new legal system had to be established specific to the country and to each state. Many pro-British Tory barristers had fled the new nation, leaving a void in the profession for young American lawyers to fill. Additionally, the ceaseless westward movement of new settlers meant there would be a frontier in need of taming. Good lawyers and judges were imperative to civilizing the wilderness. After a church, a courthouse was usually the next public building to appear in any settlement of consequence.
While it is not clear why Jackson consciously chose to practice law, it is clear why he selected a career that would take him away from his birthplace in the Waxhaw District straddling North and South Carolina, where he was born on March 15, 1767. The Revolution had raged through the area, pitting pa-triot Whig against Tory, neighbor against neighbor and father against son. Following in the footsteps of his older brothers, young Andrew joined the cause of independence at age 13. Jackson was eventually captured and imprisoned. During his captivity, he was wounded by a British officer and he contracted smallpox. His father had died before he was born, and his two brothers and mother perished during the war.
Having suffered through hardship, severe wounding, life-threatening illness and the loss of his immediate family, Jackson never forgot the price he and others had paid to obtain America’s liberties. By 1783 Jackson was a 16-year-old orphan living with members of his mother’s family. His surviving relatives apparently held little affection for the irascible boy, who looked desperately for an escape from their staid existence. To remain in the Waxhaws meant to have a quiet, modest life. Such was not Jackson’s fate.
Although his mother had intended for him to be a clergyman, and his mother’s family taught him the saddling trade, Jackson must have seen opportunities to travel and earn a decent living as an attorney. Before his 18th birthday, Jackson rode to Salisbury, N.C., and entered the law office of Mr. Spruce McCay, where he began his legal studies.
A legal education in post-Revolution North Carolina was a far cry from the more formalized education of today’s law schools. It was far removed even from contemporary legal programs in England or in the American Northeast, where John Quincy Adams was commencing his higher education at Harvard College.
This less-formalized Southern education complemented a wilder lifestyle. And Jackson was never far from chicanery. He fell into a crowd of like-minded peers, engaging in cock-fighting, horseracing, drunken revelry and pranks. On one occasion, after concluding a pleasant dinner at a local tavern, the young men decided that a finer time should not and would never be had with the dining ware they had used. They made good on their feelings by shattering the plates and glasses. Then they broke the table in two, battered the chairs and other furniture into splinters, heaped it all into a pile and set the pile ablaze.
Some of his indiscretions were less destructive but more scandalous. The young Jackson ruffled feathers when, in helping organize a Christmas ball at the town’s dancing school, he invited two notorious prostitutes. The women took the invitation seriously, to the universal embarrassment of all present at their arrival. It was a cruel joke, and Jackson later apologized to the other women at the ball (it is not clear if he ever apologized to the prostitutes). This remains the only occasion in which Jackson was less than ideally chivalrous in his dealings with women.
In spite of his youthful distractions, there is reason to believe Jackson was serious in his legal studies. As one of his early biographers, James Parton, claimed in his 1860 Life of Andrew Jackson:
At no part of Jackson’s career, when we can get a look at him through a pair of trustworthy eyes, do we find him trifling with life. We find him often wrong, but always earnest. He never so much as raised a field of cotton which he did not have done in the best manner known to him. It was not in the nature of this young man to take a great deal of trouble to get a chance to study law, and then entirely to throw away that chance.
In 1786 Jackson left McCay’s office and moved to that of Colonel John Stokes, where he completed his legal education. On September 26, 1787, judges Samuel Ashe and John F. Williams of the Superior Court of Law and Equity of North Carolina authorized him to practice as an attorney, finding him to be a man of ‘unblemished moral character’ and knowledgeable in the law. At the age of 20, Andrew Jackson was ready to begin his life of public service in the courtrooms of North Carolina.
The next year of Jackson’s life was spent mostly in Martinsville, N.C. Legal work was sparse, and Jackson made do working as a constable and assisting in the management of a store with two of his friends. Even with three jobs, his means were limited. During one of his travels to court in the town of Richmond, Jackson stayed at the inn of Jesse Lister, and apparently left without paying his bill. According to tradition, Lister later wrote in his account book that the charge was ‘Paid at the Battle of New Orleans.’ (Jackson as president would deny the validity of this story when presented with the board-bill by Lister’s daughter.)
It was soon clear to Jackson that better opportunities must lie in the West. Although young, and with questionable legal knowledge, Jackson possessed a magnetic character. The friendships he developed in his early years would reap huge benefits throughout his life. They began to pay off in 1788, when Jackson’s fun-loving companion from his law school days, John McNairy, earned an appointment as Superior Court judge for the Western District of North Carolina (in present-day Tennessee). McNairy needed a prosecutor, and Jackson seized upon the offer. Jackson and McNairy, along with several other friends, worked their way from town to town toward Nashville. On the way, Jackson took cases to pass the time between legs of the journey.
At this early stage in his career, Jackson began to earn a reputation for pugnacity. One day in court, Jackson found himself opposed to Colonel Waightstill Avery. Avery was an experienced and respected lawyer, of whom Jackson once had sought legal mentoring. In the course of an address to the court, Avery made a sarcastic quip regarding Jackson’s constant reliance on a journeyman’s lawbook, Matthew Bacon’s Abridgement of the Law.
Jackson, sensing his competence had been questioned, openly accused Avery of taking illegal fees. Avery denied this. Eyes ablaze, Jackson jotted down a message on a page of Bacon’s lawbook, tore it out and placed it before Avery. The older man, wanting to avoid a duel, made no response. A day later, Jackson issued a public challenge. It is telling that this is Jackson’s earliest known letter:
Agust 12th 1788
Sir: When a man’s feelings and character are injured he ought to seek a speedy redress; you recd. a few lines from me yesterday and undoubtedly you understand me. My charector you have injured; and further you have Insulted me in the presence of a court and larg audianc. I therefore call upon you as a gentleman to give me satisfaction for the Same; and I further call upon you to give Me an answer immediately without Equivocation and I hope you can do without dinner untill the business done; for it is consistent with the character of a gentleman when he Injures a man to make a spedy reparation; therefore I hope you will not fail in meeting me this day, from yr obt st.Andw. Jackson
Collo. AveryP.S. This Evening after court adjourned
Unable to avoid an encounter, Colonel Avery agreed to meet Jackson on a hill south of Jonesborough. Fortunately, conciliators prevailed on Jackson, and both men fired into the air. In good humor, Avery presented Jackson with a slab of bacon — a play on the lawbook at the center of the dispute. Jackson didn’t get the joke, and an icy silence prevailed.
The McNairy-Jackson party arrived in Nashville in October 1788. Jackson took up residence in an inn run by the widow Donelson and her children, including her daughter Rachel Donelson Robards. Rachel’s husband James Robards was a jealous and suspicious man. With the dashing young Andrew Jackson in the picture, Robards’ suspicions were inflamed.
Jackson immediately discovered richer law prospects in his new home. The frontier had become a haven for debtors seeking to escape their creditors. Until Jackson’s arrival, the only lawyer in the area had been retained by a combination of these debtors. Jackson championed the creditors, mostly merchants, and he prosecuted the cases boldly and successfully. The business interests of the newly settled land thus became his newest friends and allies.
The young lawyer became a pillar of Davidson County’s legal system. He handled between one-fourth and one-half of all cases during the next seven years. Most of these cases involved land titles, debts, sales and assault. Property and security were the main concerns of settlers, and Jackson’s ability to cham-pion both made him a popular figure in the county.
During his time as a Nashville lawyer, Jackson married Rachel. The events in the love triangle of Jackson, Rachel and Robards over the next three years are fascinating, if somewhat confusing. What is certain is that Rachel and Jackson fell in love with each other, and Robards’ hostile behavior pushed him further and further out of the favor of his wife and her family. By 1791 Robards was in Kentucky, and that summer Jackson married Rachel. Whether the happy couple had misinterpreted some court documents and believed that Rachel and Robards were officially divorced, or whether they simply did not care, is still debated. Robards did not obtain an official divorce until 1793. The scandal of Rachel as a bigamist would plague the couple to the end of their days.
The changing composition of the nation once again improved Jackson’s prospects. The Southwest Territory of the United States had been ceded from North Carolina, and William Blount was appointed territorial governor. Blount, a friend of McNairy and other Jackson associates, was impressed by Jackson’s abilities, and in 1791 he appointed him district attorney of the Mero District (now eastern Tennessee). Blount also conferred upon Jackson his first military appointment, as judge advocate of the Davidson County cavalry regiment.
Jackson continued to prosper professionally and financially, but further events would interrupt his legal career. In 1796 Tennessee achieved statehood, and Blount became one of its senators, while Jackson became its first congressman in the U.S. House of Representatives. A year later, Jackson replaced Blount as U.S. senator from Tennessee. However, his first experience in politics was bittersweet. He missed his wife, despised the lengthy and genteel procedures of legislating and agonized over a disastrous business transaction. In 1798 he left the Senate and went back to Nashville, not to return to national politics for 25 years.
The ex-senator was not without work for long. A position had opened on the Tennessee Superior Court, and Jackson accepted the election by the legislature.
It is unclear whether Jackson wanted this office, but it was a steppingstone to the governorship, and it allowed him to remain in Tennessee with his beloved Rachel. The position paid $600 a year and required work in Jonesborough, Knoxville and Nashville.
Rulings were not generally recorded in Tennessee until after Jackson had left the bench, and only five of his written decisions have ever been located. Most sources credit Jackson with having the proper temperament, if not the scholarship, to preside over the state’s courts. According to Parton, ‘Tradition reports that he maintained the dignity and authority of the bench, while he was on the bench; and that his decisions were short, untechnical, un-learned, sometimes ungrammatical, and generally right.’
‘It is doubtful if a more unlearned judge ever sat on a bench,’ writes another biographer, ‘and it would be equally difficult to find one more determined to dispense justice according to his lights.’
The incident with Russell Bean occurred in March 1802, while Jackson was holding court in Jonesborough.
Bean had been the first white man born in what was to become Tennessee. Strong, brave, untamable, he was the embodiment of the frontier. He was also given to alcohol-induced fits of rage. In February 1802, when his wife gave birth to a child he suspected was not his, Bean clipped the infant’s ears. He was arrested, tried and convicted, but he managed to escape into the wilderness.
When Jackson arrived in Jonesborough to hold court, a nearby tavern went ablaze. Acting with typical daring and decisiveness, he led the fight to battle the blaze and possibly saved the town. He received some unexpected assistance from the outlaw Bean.
Bean had rushed into the burning barn, ‘tore doors from their hinges to release the horses, scaled the roofs of houses, spread wet blankets and,’ in the estimation of one witness, ‘did more than any two men except Judge Jackson.’
Bean was subsequently arrested and brought before Jackson to answer for his crime. It was at this point that he raged against the court officials and marched out of the building.
Jackson was no stranger to the vulgarities of the frontier, but he suffered no slight to his authority. Therefore, according to some sources, with his eyes ‘ablaze with fury at this assault upon the Majesty of the Law,’ he ordered the sheriff to immediately chase down Bean and bring him before the court.
The sheriff left, but soon returned meekly to report he was unable to apprehend the fugitive.
‘Summon a posse, then,’ Jackson ordered.
The sheriff once again left, but returned to report no man could be found to approach Bean, who had pledged to’shoot the first skunk that comes within ten feet.’
Jackson, so the story goes, angered as much — if not more — by the sheriff’s failure to carry out his orders as by Bean’s contempt, was determined to see his authority upheld.
‘Mr. Sheriff,’ Jackson said through clenched teeth,’since you cannot obey my orders, summon me; yes sir, summon me.’
‘Well, judge, if you say so, though I don’t like to do it; but if you will try, why I suppose I must summon you.’
Jackson adjourned court for 10 minutes and asked for firearms. In the center of the village, Bean was continuing his standoff, while the local citizens looked on, certain they were about to witness a killing. With a pistol in each hand, Jackson waded into the crowd and leveled one of his weapons at the outlaw.
According to the later accounts, he shouted for all to hear, ‘Surrender, you infernal villain, this very instant, or by God Almighty I’ll blow you through as wide as a gate!’
Those gathered stood in stony silence. For several seconds, it appeared one man or the other would soon be dead from the conflict. Finally, Bean slumped his shoulders and lowered his pistol. The crowd breathed with relief as he was arrested and returned to jail.
When asked later why he gave into Jackson, Bean is reported to have replied, ‘When he came up, I looked him in the eye, and I saw shoot, and there wasn’t shoot in nary other eye in the crowd; and so I says to myself, says I, hoss, it’s about time to sing small, and so I did.’
Bean would stand trial. Jackson had stood alone and upheld order.
Bean paid a fine, but was pardoned from imprisonment by Tennessee Governor John Sevier in 1803. The infant whom Bean had maimed died in childhood and his wife obtained a divorce, but 10 years later they were reunited, amazingly, with Jackson’s help. Perhaps Jackson had seen some good in the ‘great, hulking fellow’ as they fought that fire in Jonesborough years before. Colonel Isaac Avery, the son of Jackson’s old legal adversary Colonel Waightstill Avery, recalled:
[Bean] was at Knoxville with a boat. His wife, who was still living there, had conducted herself well in the interim….General Jackson was in the town at the time, and interested himself in bringing Bean and his wife together again….He succeeded. They were married again, and, years after, they were living happily together….A true narrative of [Bean’s] life and adventures would show that truth is stranger than fiction.
The reformed Bean would later become the marshal of Memphis, the ‘Queen of the American Nile.’ No doubt his confrontation with Jackson contributed to his decision to keep the peace and join the polite society Jackson had helped establish.
Soon after his showdown with Bean, Jackson became involved in a very public quarrel. In facing John Sevier, Andrew Jackson found himself in confrontation with the most popular man in Tennessee. Considered to be ‘the handsomest man’ in the state, Sevier was ‘easy, affable, generous, and talkative.’ He rose to fame during the Revolutionary War at the Battle of King’s Mountain and fought bravely in 34 other battles.
Sevier won every gubernatorial election between 1796 and 1809 with the exception of 1801, when he could not run due to term limits. He was the leader of the eastern Tennessee political faction that opposed the Blount, or western Tennessee, faction, and therefore was inevitably an adversary of Jackson. Their feud had its beginnings in 1796, when Governor Sevier opposed Jackson’s election as major general of the state militia. Jackson lost that bid. In 1802 Sevier himself ran for the position head-to-head against Jackson. This time, Jackson won when his ally, Governor Archibald Roane, broke a tie in the legislature in Jackson’s favor.
At one point during the drawn-out quarrel, as Jackson was traveling from Nashville to Jonesborough, a friend warned him that a mob of Sevier supporters was preparing to strike. Jackson was ill at the time, but nevertheless continued into town. He procured a room and took to bed.
Before long, a messenger came to tell Jackson that a Colonel Harrison and a group of men had gathered, intending to tar and feather him. Reportedly, Jackson immediately rose from his bed and shouted to be heard, ‘Give my compliments to Colonel Harrison, and tell him my door is open to receive him and his regiment whenever they choose to wait upon me, and that I hope the colonel’s chivalry will induce him to lead his men, not follow them.’
The would-be attackers dispersed in the face of such defiance. Jackson was able to hold court and leave town without further conflict.
When Sevier challenged Jackson’s friend, the incumbent Governor Roane in the 1803 election, the feud eventually boiled over into an absurd, half-baked duel outside of Knoxville.
Jackson had come into possession of evidence incriminating Sevier in a fraudulent land warrant scandal. In July he and Governor Roane made this information public. The revelations hurt Sevier’s reputation in the state and enraged him against Jackson.
That October, Jackson was holding court in Knoxville. The legislature had convened in the city, preparing to discuss the scandal. While accounts of what happened during the next few days vary, it seems that Sevier stood on the courthouse steps, defending himself and denouncing his enemies to the multitude gathered. As Jackson exited the courthouse, Sevier immediately began ranting against the judge, unleashing upon him what someone called a ‘volley of vituperation.’
Jackson, taken aback by this unexpected encounter, began to list the services he had provided to the state.
‘Services?’ Sevier mocked. ‘I know of no great service you have rendered the country, except taking a trip to Natchez with another man’s wife.’
This reference to his elopement with Rachel startled Jackson.
‘Great God!’ he shot back. ‘Do you mention her sacred name?’
Sevier drew his pistol while Jackson charged at him with his cane. The crowd separated the two men before anyone was hurt.
In the following days, both men challenged the other to render satisfaction. They finally agreed to meet in Indian Territory on October 10. When the two met, Jackson was seconded by Dr. Thomas J. Van Dyke, and Sevier was accompanied by Andrew Greer and George Washington Sevier, his son.
Both enemies dismounted, drew pistols and commenced to verbally assault one another. After a few minutes, they calmed down and holstered their pistols, but continued to exchange insults. Finally, Jackson ran at Sevier, intending to cane him. Sevier drew his sword, but scared his horse, which galloped off with his pistols. Jackson quickly drew one of his own pistols.
Terrified, Sevier ran behind a tree, and damned Jackson for trying to shoot an unarmed man. George Washington Sevier drew his pistol on Jackson, and Dr. Van Dyke drew his pistol on George. It was up to Greer to calm the adversaries and coax Sevier out from behind the tree.
The five men rode to Knoxville, with Jackson and Sevier continuing to launch their verbal salvos at one another. After several days of additional public accusations and challenges, both men ceased and moved on with their lives.
Sevier would serve as governor for six more years before being elected to the state Senate and then the U.S. Congress, dying in 1815. By then, Jackson had also moved on to bigger things. It is fortunate for both Tennessee and the nation that only their egos were injured during the bitter quarrel.
In May 1803, a few months before the Knoxville duel, the Thomas Jefferson administration had completed the Louisiana Purchase and Jackson lobbied for an appointment as governor of the new territory. The position, however, went to another. This disappointment, combined with further financial troubles, convinced Jackson to withdraw from civil service for a time.
On July 24, 1804, the Tennessee legislature accepted Jackson’s resignation. This ended his career in the legal profession. He would continue in his role of major general of the militia, but the next few years would feature a number of setbacks. He would develop a reputation as a violent and rash man after his quarrel with Sevier and a notorious duel with Charles Dickinson over a horseracing wager. His disastrous friendship with Aaron Burr would almost permanently destroy his reputation when Burr was charged with treason. By the War of 1812, Jackson would be a man in desperate need of a worthy cause.
Although Jackson would be better known as a military hero and political leader, it was his law practice that gave him the opportunities to enter those other fields, and Jackson’s service as district attorney, congressman and judge earned him popular support and valuable allies throughout Tennessee. These strengths sustained him during the darker times. By the end of his judgeship, a new county in Tennessee was named Jackson. By the time of the Civil War, the name Jackson would appear on a map of the United States more than any other besides that of Washington.
Even before New Orleans made him a national hero, Jackson was known as an extraordinary man. He was no legal scholar, but the early 19th-century American frontier was a different place, and Jackson was a different kind of man and a different kind of judge. Soon, the world would see what type of leader the American frontier was capable of producing.
This article was written by Christopher G. Marquis and originally published in the April 2006 issue of American History Magazine.
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