The last chapter of her life was the most trying, but it did not break her spirit. It was engaged with the bitter campaign in 1828 between Jackson and Adams for the presidency. Political opponents dragged out the old divorce question and ridiculed her as an unlettered woman from the backwoods, totally unsuited to be mistress of the White House. Here the thought is advanced that these base and purely politically inspired statements constitute the only basis for the widely accepted version of Rachel as an ignorant and crude personality, a pure fiction that is false to its very core. Through all of this Rachel maintained a calm dignity. She did not like politics, and it was natural that the bitterness of that memorable campaign should have drawn her closer to her home and her God. She would have preferred the simplicity and peace of private life for herself and her husband, but she accepted both the outrages of the campaign and the final victory with quiet resignation.
On the eve of a victory banquet in Nashville in honor of the newly elected President, she died peacefully in the bosom of her home. Almost her last words with her husband had been to exact a promise from him that he would attend the banquet in spite of her illness, which was not considered as being serious. She died on December 22, 1828, just forty-nine years to the day since trustingly she turned her face Westward on the “Good Ship Adventure.” With the same child-like confidence, her great and good soul now passed beyond the veil and the mystery to the eternal home of her Maker. Upon her tomb in the Hermitage garden is inscribed an epitaph dictated by the stricken heart of Andrew Jackson:
“_Here lies the remains of Mrs. Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jackson, who died the 22nd of December, 1828, age 61 years. Her face was fair, her person pleasing, her temper amiable, her heart kind; she delighted in relieving the wants of her fellow creatures, and cultivated that divine pleasure by the most liberal and unpretending methods; to the poor she was a benefactor; to the rich an example; to the wretched a comforter; to the prosperous an ornament; her piety went hand in hand with her benevolence, and she thanked her Creator for being permitted to do good. A being so gentle and yet so virtuous slander might wound, but could not dishonor. Even death when he bore her from the arms of her husband could but transport her to the bosom of her God._”