Finally, some opportunities appeared. When in Texas, he was informed that the presidency of the new Texas Agricultural and Mechanical College could be his. The formal offer came in a letter from Governor Richard Coke, dated June 14. The terms included a furnished residence, ground for gardens, and a salary of $4,000. Coke said that Texans wanted the man they “would never cease to love and honor” more than anyone else. An appreciative Davis seriously considered accepting. A college presidency was certainly respectable, and the post would mean financial security for his family. Besides, he liked what he knew of the state. Yet he finally said no. After expressing gratitude for the confidence shown in him and the honor tendered him, Davis simply stated that he did not believe he could satisfactorily handle the job. He turned it down in part because Varina did not want him to take it. When she first heard about the possibility of their removal to Texas, she informed her husband that she “looked forward with dread to our Texas hegira.” In addition, a more inviting proposition came his way.78
The Mississippi Valley Society provided the potential of almost ideal employment for Davis. Based in England, the company was designed to spur European immigration and English investment in the Valley and to develop direct trade, chiefly through New Orleans, in ships it would provide. Davis had discussions about this enterprise when in England, and interested parties in New Orleans and Vicksburg wanted him to head the American operation. In August he was offered the presidency, though he declined to accept until a number of matters had been settled, including financial support from England and details of his salary. Even so, in September he set out to drum up public support for the general goals of the society.79
He traveled by train up to Missouri, where he also had invitations to speak from several groups. At three separate fairs or expositions he gave addresses, all emphasizing the same themes. He called on the residents of the Mississippi Valley to unite for their economic benefit, advocated what he termed a more efficient and less expensive trade between river towns and Europe, lauded the prospect of immigrants coming to the region as a boost for economic development. Davis received an enthusiastic welcome everywhere he went. Along the rail line bands serenaded and crowds cheered. His spirited audiences at Fulton, where the governor introduced him, and at Kansas City numbered in the thousands. He was pleased with his trip, and despite his hectic schedule thought his health had improved, though the constant talking had left him hoarse.
A reporter covering Davis penned a description of a man who looked generally old and unwell. White hair, a short gray beard, and bushy eyebrows marked a thin, spare figure, who could still carry himself “tolerably erect.” Furrows and sunken cheeks dominated his face, but the eyes could still flash with a “quick electric gleam.”80
On this journey Jeff Jr. accompanied his father, and after concluding the Missouri engagements, they struck out for Colorado. Davis had never before seen the Rocky Mountains. They took a drive through the snow to inspect a mine and deep in the mountains visited a noted resort. Jefferson did not forget his wife back in still summery Memphis. “You would enjoy the scenery, the wild flowers, & the cold air.”81
Before returning to Memphis, Davis detoured by Fairview, Kentucky, the site of his birth. Invited to a celebration, he told Varina he experienced “an enthusiasm and cordiality—a wild burst of affection—exceeding anything I have ever had before.” “Women who have lost and suffered and bearded men who have served in battle, melt in tears and vainly try to express their love,” he reported. And all regretted her absence.82
Back from this six-week business and pleasure tour, Davis continued discussions about his place in the Mississippi Valley Society. Passing through St. Louis on the way to Kentucky, he conferred with a representative of the company. He also had conferences in New Orleans with the American directors. Even so, all matters had not been clarified to his satisfaction. He wanted more information from England before he made his final decision about accepting this presidency. He did recognize that doing so would require him to live in New Orleans.83
During the mid-1870s Davis began making public speeches for the first time since the war. But he was careful to steer clear of current politics, and never mentioned anything about Reconstruction. In addition to his Missouri addresses, he spoke in December before the St. Andrew’s Society of Memphis, where he gave a paean to Scotland and almost everything connected with a land he had grown to cherish. Three months later, in New Orleans, at a gathering of Louisiana veterans of the Mexican War, he concentrated on the noble undertaking and lofty memories of all who had participated. He proclaimed that their service and triumph had opened the way to the great West, which had made the United States a country of vast wealth and power.84
In staying publicly quiet about disputatious political issues, Davis exhibited considerable judgment, for he remained quite controversial. He received two invitations to appear and speak at agricultural fairs in northern states set for the fall of 1875. The agricultural societies of Bath County, Indiana, and Winnebago County, Illinois, assured Davis that they really wanted him to come and that he would be cordially received. Agreeing to appear at both events, Davis said he wanted to advance the interests of the entire Mississippi Valley, and he also desired to see the transformation of a country he had known as a wilderness when a young soldier. But in both communities, news of Davis’s scheduled appearances brought forth a storm of protests. Chagrined, representatives of the two organizations wrote Davis telling him he should not come. In each instance he gracefully bowed out.85
In late 1875 Davis journeyed to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where he had not been since before 1861. He went to look at the property he had bought in the late 1850s. If he became president of the American branch of the Mississippi Valley Society, he would have to live in New Orleans, but would need someplace where the family could go to escape the steamy summer. Besides, he knew they had to get out of the Memphis house “in its dilapidated condition.” Moreover, his nephew Joseph R. Davis had moved to the coast. At his own property, he found the fence gone and the grounds covered with thick bushes, but much of the surrounding area cleared by loggers. Before leaving he stopped to see an old family acquaintance who lived in a waterfront home. Although Sarah Dorsey was away, he remarked to Varina, “Beauvoir is a fine place, large and beautiful house and many orange trees yet full of fruit.”86
As the old year ended and the new began, the Davis family endured yet another unexpected bereavement but also celebrated the wedding of their older daughter. In November 1875 news came that Varina’s youngest brother, twenty-eight-year-old Jefferson Davis Howell, captain of a vessel that plied between Seattle and San Francisco, was lost at sea, the victim of a collision in dense fog. “Oh! Father let this cup pass,” Davis cried, telling his wife they both suffered equally. A sharply different event took place on January 1, 1876. On that day in St. Lazarus Church, Polly, almost twenty-two, was married to J. Addison Hayes, a bank cashier six years her senior. While the father of the bride admitted to a strange feeling because another “authority” had come between him and his beloved Polly, he was quite satisfied with his new son-in-law, whom he would grow to admire and rely on. “Mr. Hayes’ last words to me,” he informed the new Mrs. Hayes, “were in promise to take good care of you and I do not doubt he will faithfully keep that pledge. May God bless you both.”87
Finally, in January 1876, Davis agreed to become president of the American branch of what was called the International Chamber of Commerce and Mississippi Valley Society, with offices in London and at 33 Camp Street in New Orleans. Davis would be paid $6,000 annually plus travel expenses. Even though he enjoyed an excellent salary for the first time since the demise of Carolina Life, he still economized, yet refused to live with friends. He rented a parlor-bedroom suite on Bourbon Street, with meals available at a family restaurant across the street for $1.50 per day or $2 if sent to his lodgings. Sending this information to his wife, he said he was ready to have her join him.
Davis worked dil
igently. He left his quarters before breakfast and returned after nightfall. His only “lark” came when he took his niece Mary Stamps to see a young female actress, who reminded him somewhat of Fanny Kemble in her youth. Continuous discussions took place with his board on the best steps for the business and on concerns about the action or inaction of the directors in London. The board believed Davis should go to England to obtain specific information on what their English associates intended to do about financial support, though some members thought Davis should make a promotional tour through Texas before going abroad.
In May the determination was made that Davis must cross the Atlantic without delay. Worried about his wife and missing her, he wanted her to accompany him to England. She agreed, and brought Winnie and a young friend along. Jeff Jr. remained in Memphis under the care of Polly and Addison Hayes. The Davises actually sailed from New Orleans around May 24, bound for Liverpool.88
They docked in Liverpool in late June, and were welcomed into the home of Varina’s sister, Margaret Stoess. Davis left his wife and the girls there while he went to London on business. Although well treated, he met with the same delays and indecision he had come to know so well. Nothing seemed to go right. To his surprise, he learned that the English parent of the Mississippi Valley Society lacked assured revenues. All his attempts to get hard information or concrete action led nowhere. Frustration was the result.
In August the family reunited in London for a short time. As always, Jefferson and Varina had education very much in mind, and they decided to place Winnie in a girls’ school in Karlsruhe, Germany. Her traveling companion would be a fellow student. Although leaving her parents saddened her, Winnie did as told. Upon sending her off, the sixty-eight-year-old father consoled his twelve-year-old daughter: “It is true, but not pleasant that duty demands self-sacrifice. Yet it is the highest attribute of humanity to be able to give to a sense of duty, that which it costs pain to surrender.” Having no doubt about her success, he wrote: “I hope the pain of separation from you will be rewarded by the fulfillment of our anxious and ambitious hopes, the one for your physical and the other for your intellectual development.” He then promised he would visit as soon as possible, “for I long to have my baby in hand.”
Before Winnie departed for Karlsruhe, Varina became quite ill. In considerable pain, she was regularly attended by a London physician. Searching for “drier and purer air” that would benefit his sick wife, Jefferson moved their lodgings to a different part of the city. For a month he did not leave her bedside; not until mid-October did she begin to show marked improvement.89
With Varina much better and no movement in his business affairs, Davis left London around October 20 to visit his daughter. En route he spent a week in Paris and Chantilly with Dudley Mann. After an enjoyable stay with his old companion, Davis traveled on to Karlsruhe alone. Seeing Winnie pleased him immensely, as did her school. He reported her happy and in good hands. He also thought it essential to keep her friend with her, considering this so important he declared he would give up smoking to produce the money, if necessary. But it never came to that. While gratified with Winnie’s situation, he depicted his own disconsolation to Varina: “Thrown by adverse currents on the sands and left to be beaten but not lifted by rising tides I can if hopeless yet I trust calmly look upon the changes which are seen & foreseen.”
From Karlsruhe, Davis returned directly to London, and immediately prepared to cross the Atlantic. Nothing positive had occurred or seemed likely to occur any time soon regarding the Mississippi Valley Society. Additionally, Dr. Bowmar had written that he was urgently needed in Vicksburg; the Montgomerys were foundering in their attempt to maintain their contract. But Davis would have to travel alone, for the doctors said Varina’s condition necessitated her remaining in England through the winter. He agreed, and also believed her surroundings would be more cheerful than back in the South. Thus, in early November when the Adriatic steamed out of Liverpool, she remained behind at her sister’s home.90
Sailing alone to New York, Davis immediately took the train to Memphis, then south to Vicksburg and finally New Orleans. From Memphis, Jeff wrote his mother that his father looked hale. But there was no other positive news. Davis feared that what he considered mismanagement by Dr. Bowmar had endangered any return for his family from Joseph’s estate. In New Orleans, Davis gave his directors a negative report on his activities in London; moreover, looking ahead, he could see little certainty. His directors were disappointed that their venture seemed to be going nowhere. The Mississippi Valley Society obviously provided no future for Davis.
His business career at a dead end, Davis began to turn his attention to writing his history of the Confederacy. From New Orleans he returned to the nearby Mississippi Gulf Coast searching for a place to live. He informed his wife that he had hired a man to clear their lot, and that he had not taken any of the available houses because he feared she might not like his choice. While looking, he stayed part of the time at Beauvoir with Sarah Dorsey, who sent Varina her regards.
Back in New Orleans, he wrote his wife on Christmas Eve 1876. “This evening of the anniversary when families are wont to be united, ours are scattered far and wide,” he lamented. “It is sad to me,” he added, “to realize that an ocean rolls between me and my dear Winnie.” He admitted that he was “weary of wandering.…”91
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“The Duty of Doing Justice to the Cause”
January 1877 found Jefferson Davis once again at Beauvoir, the Gulf front home of Sarah Dorsey. Idolizing Davis as the Confederate president, and believing him the great man of the age, she invited him to make her home his home. Tired of wandering, with no other attractive options, and ready to start on his memoirs, he accepted her invitation. He had already decided to make the Mississippi coast at least his temporary abode when Sarah Dorsey’s offer provided him a most suitable situation. He did not have to buy anything, and he could easily move.
Forty-eight years old in 1877, Sarah Ellis Dorsey had been born in Natchez into a wealthy plantation family with holdings in Mississippi and Louisiana. Her family had known the Davises, and she was a contemporary of Varina’s. An unusually gifted young woman, she received a superior education in Natchez and Philadelphia. She married in 1853, and with her Maryland-born husband Samuel Dorsey settled on a Dorsey-owned cotton plantation in northeast Louisiana. A staunch Confederate during the war, she never stopped venerating the cause and its noble leaders, particularly Jefferson Davis. Sarah became an author of some note, writing both fiction and nonfiction. In 1873 the Dorseys bought and moved to Beauvoir, where Samuel died two years later. As it had for most southern plantation magnates, the war had greatly diminished the Dorseys’ wealth and property. Yet a sizable fortune remained.
Beauvoir was a raised cottage, but its considerable size, impressive flight of steps, Greek Revival details, and extensive grounds gave it the air of a “mansion … of vernal beauty.” Built in the early 1850s to take advantage of sea breezes, the house was supported on nine-foot brick pillars above an unfinished basement. Its front broad steps rose to a verandah that extended across the front and halfway around each side. The interior, with a wide central hall and floor-length windows, was also designed to take advantage of the natural ventilation. All eight rooms of the residential story opened onto the front or rear galleries.
Architectural refinements helped make Beauvoir impressive. The exterior featured square wooden columns aligned above the basement pillars. The balustrade that flanked the steps continued along the base of these pillars, which had Doric capitals topped by a broad but simple frieze. There were also symmetrically placed chimneys as well as Doric pilasters by the doorway and three-part wooden shutters at the windows. In the interior, the frescoed walls and ceilings of the hall and parlors were notable. Their rococo themes of shells, garlands, and even mythological figures were balanced by the elaborate marble mantelpieces of the parlors. Carved door casings added more impressive detail.
> The grounds magnified the distinction of Beauvoir, though it had never been a working plantation. Two cottages on either side of the mansion featured floor-length windows, smaller-scaled versions of the galleries of the main house, and pagoda-like roofs. The one on the east was prepared for Davis; it contained a bedroom and a study. The usual kitchen, stable, storerooms, and servants’ quarters stood in the rear. Kitchen and flower gardens were nearby, and orange trees and vineyards covered many of the estate’s acres. Running just a half-mile behind the estate, and with a flag stop, the Louisville & Nashville Railroad made both New Orleans and Mobile easily accessible.1
Davis’s patroness wanted to give him more than room and board. She hoped that Beauvoir would become his haven, where he would be safe from the bruises inflicted by the larger world. She would become his protectress, providing sanctuary and worshipful care. Upon his arrival, she reported him in poor emotional shape. “So he is in a very troubled condition of mind…,” she wrote, “troubled about his affairs & anxious about his wife’s health, which is not much improved.” She said she had difficulty getting him involved in his memoirs.
In time he did become stronger, both physical and emotional pain subsiding. With Sarah Dorsey and various guests, Beauvoir could be a lively place. She entertained many people who came to pay their respects to her hero. She, he, and at times others engaged in what one participant called “much interesting talk” on various topics, including women’s suffrage, which she supported but Davis opposed. And Sarah Dorsey could still put on a lavish dinner. Her Christmas table in 1877 included oysters, raw, fried, and in soup, turkey, mutton, beef, crabs, salmon, sweet and Irish potatoes, vegetables, cranberry sauce, and jellies. Sherry and superb claret helped it all go down. Then came the main course: a roasted peacock with feathers in full display, as if it were alive. At the close of a Christmas reception, she and Davis led off in the Virginia reel.
Jefferson Davis, American Page 85
