Although a loser this first time out in electoral politics, Jefferson Davis had done himself immense political good. His party saw him as one ready to take up the Democratic banner in spite of the late hour and the long odds. Likewise, his willingness to compete directly against the Whig titan Prentiss revealed him as a man not cowed by eminence. A Democratic editor proclaimed that Davis emerged from his encounter with Prentiss “untouched … triumphantly, suc[ce]ssfully and honorably.” Designating him “no ordinary man,” party stalwarts in his home county “anticipat[ed] for him a proud and honorable career.”61
Warren Democrats thought they had a possible rising political star. One month after his defeat, his county colleagues again sent him to the state Democratic conclave, scheduled in Jackson for early January 1844. With their help at that meeting, Davis moved his party activity from the county to the state level. The convention chose him as one of the party’s six electors for the fall presidential election. That selection clearly signaled that Jefferson Davis had moved beyond “clearing fields in the primeval forests” of Davis Bend for the larger world of political engagement.62
While Davis was beginning his serious involvement in politics, his personal life was also moving in a new direction. Riding from Hurricane in December 1843 to Vicksburg for the Warren County Democratic meeting, Jefferson Davis stopped by Diamond Place, the home of his niece Florida McCaleb, only a dozen miles from her father Joseph’s seat. There he delivered to Varina Howell a message from Joseph, who was eager for the young woman from Natchez to make her way to Hurricane. Soon, Davis was off to Vicksburg.
CHAPTER FIVE
“It Was What I Wished”
Varina Banks Howell was the daughter of Joseph’s old friend William B. Howell of Natchez. A native of New Jersey and son of a governor of that state, Howell migrated to the Natchez area after serving as an officer in the War of 1812. There he met and in 1823 married Margaret Louisa Kempe, daughter of a well-to-do landowner. Over the next years Howell tried a number of businesses, but succeeded in none. The wealth of his in-laws and his wife’s inheritance provided critical financial resources Howell needed for his wife and brood of children.1
Soon after his arrival in Natchez, Howell became acquainted with another immigrant to Mississippi, Joseph Davis. The two grew to be fast friends, and Joseph, already a successful attorney, took Howell “under his wing and sponsored him in Natchez society.” They remained steadfast friends, though Howell never found the prosperity that Joseph was beginning to enjoy. Unlike Joseph, who gave up town life for the prospects at Davis Bend, Howell clung to Natchez. He lived with his growing family on the river bluff just south of town in the Briars, a substantial but not palatial house provided by Margaret Howell’s father. That William Howell named his firstborn Joseph Davis Howell underscored just how close he felt to Joseph Davis, whom the Howell children always called Uncle Joe.
On a visit to Natchez in 1842, Joseph invited the eldest daughter of his companion to visit him at Hurricane. Both William and Margaret were happy for young Varina to go, and she would have gone but for dedication to her studies. The proposed trip was postponed until December 1843, when Varina, chaperoned by her tutor, Judge George Winchester, went aboard a steamboat at Natchez and headed upriver toward Vicksburg and Davis Bend.
Varina Banks Howell, c. 1844.
Courtesy of Varina Margaret Webb Stewart (photo credit i5.1)
Joseph’s seventeen-year-old guest was born just across the river from Natchez on May 7, 1826, on her maternal grandparents’ plantation in Concordia Parish, Louisiana. Growing up in Natchez, Varina associated with children from the first families of the thriving town, though the Howells enjoyed neither the financial means nor the security of these wealthy people. She also received for a young girl of that time a remarkably good education. In one year, 1836, she attended Madame Greland’s, a fashionable boarding school in Philadelphia, but that was not her most influential educational experience. For a substantial time in Natchez, she had the immense good fortune of having a superior private tutor, Judge Winchester, like her father an immigrant from the North. Born in Massachusetts, Winchester had established a friendship with the Howells and a respectable legal practice that led to his appointment to the bench. Taking quite a fancy to young Varina Howell, Winchester took it upon himself to educate her. Over a period of a dozen years, and without a fee, Winchester guided his only student through a course including Latin, the English classics, and French. Bright and interested, Varina worked hard at her books, even putting off a holiday with her Uncle Joe to finish her study with Judge Winchester. In later years she wrote that she learned so much more from her teacher than the content of particular subjects. “The pure, high standard of right of which his course was the exemplar” stayed with her throughout her life.2
When Jefferson Davis first met Varina Howell, he saw a slim girl of more than average height, with striking dark hair pulled closely around her head. A broad nose and ample mouth with full lips dominated a face more handsome than beautiful. Widely set, doleful dark eyes gave her almost a haunting appearance. Yet she looked like the young maiden she surely was.3
Jefferson Davis certainly made an impression on this teenager. The very next day in a letter to her mother, Varina portrayed him as “a remarkable kind of man,” though she had difficulty making up her mind about him. Whether he was young or old, she could not decide, but, she supposed, “he is old, from what I hear he is only two years younger than you are.” Varina discerned in him “an uncertain temper, and … a way of taking for granted that everybody agrees with him when he expresses an opinion, which offends me.” Yet at the same time she described him as “most agreeable,” with “a peculiarly sweet voice and a winning manner of asserting himself.” The young girl perceived an older protector. “He is the kind of person I should expect to rescue one from a mad dog at any risk, but to insist on a stoical indifference to the fright afterward.” She also admired his refinement and cultivation, even though she did not believe she would ever like him so much as Uncle Joe. That this puzzling man was a Democrat perturbed her. In her world gentlemen like her father and Judge Winchester were Whigs; evidently neither of these men had ever bothered to tell her that dear Uncle Joe also identified with the Democratic party.4
The day after Jefferson left the message that his brother was eager to see Varina, Joseph sent a niece with horse, driver, and carriage for the young woman and her luggage. Once at Hurricane, Varina settled in for a lengthy visit, not departing for two months. Obviously enjoying Uncle Joe’s hospitality and her stay in his mansion, she discovered an unexpected attraction—that same Jefferson Davis, with whom she spent much time. He captivated her. Now she described “a very gay fellow,” “look[ing] about thirty; erect, well-proportioned, and active as a boy.” On horseback he almost took her breath away: “He rode with more grace than any man I have ever seen, and gave one the impression of being incapable either of being unseated or fatigued.”5
Jefferson Davis, c. 1845.
National Portrait Gallery (photo credit i5.2)
Equally fascinated, Davis discovered his emotions racing. Clearly he had experienced nothing remotely resembling these feelings since Fort Crawford and Knox Taylor. Only one month after meeting this girl half his age, he proposed marriage. Depicting her as lively and intelligent, Davis found her irresistible and himself enchanted. Varina responded positively to his entreaties, obviously sharing his sentiments. They spent two intense months together, except for Davis’s political journey to Jackson in early January 1844. When Varina embarked on the steamboat to return to Natchez, he was desolate. “I wished myself so earnestly on the Boat that was bearing you off,” he wrote shortly after her departure, “that had you called me … could I have found any other excuse for going back I should have substituted your feeling of desolation with either surprise, annoyance, or confusion.”6
At this point Davis faced a situation he knew well—the problem of parental approval. A dutiful young daughter, Vari
na wanted to tell her parents of her new love and to obtain their blessing on her hopes for marriage. An understanding Davis accepted her decision to return alone, though he surely would have wanted to be with her when she talked with her parents. Just as certainly, and aware of their age difference, he did not want to press Varina into marriage or even be perceived as pressing her. At first the Howells were unsure; at least Margaret Howell had some reservations. After all, Jefferson Davis was her contemporary, only two and a half years younger, and old enough to be Varina’s father. She also knew about the deep love he had for his first wife and the hard blow struck him by her death. Within a short while, however, she agreed to permit Varina to follow her heart. During this period Judge Winchester had also been Varina’s champion, commending Davis and supporting the match between his favorite damsel and the older suitor.7
Love for Varina Howell enveloped Jefferson Davis. He told “My own Dearest Varina” that the house had been “particularly dull” since her departure. When the mail put off by a steamboat seemingly contained no letter for him from her, “my heart sunk within me,” he confessed. A few hours later, however, when his sister-in-law Eliza handed him an envelope, he was elated. “It was more than I had hoped for,” he exulted, “it was what I wished, it came to dispel my gloomy apprehensions.…” When Varina wrote to inform him that her mother no longer objected to their betrothal, he wanted to rush immediately to Natchez. Seeing her “every day and all day” was his goal, and he assured her that “my spirit is always with you.” In the eleven months of their engagement, March 1844 to February 1845, he was at times with her in more than spirit, for he visited Natchez more than once, though no details of any visit, save the last, survive.8
Throughout that year Jefferson constantly pledged his love. He sent his “deepest truest purest love” with the declaration that he would renew these assurances when he saw her. On another occasion he dramatized her importance to him: “the first wish of my heart is my first though[t] my first prayer this morning need I say that wish is for your welfare.” Anticipating their marriage, Jefferson completely committed himself: “your spirit is with me. I feel it’s presence, my heart is yours, my dreams are of our union, they are not dreams, for I will not wake from them.” As with his first love, he also expressed endearments in French. “Adieu, au revoir, ma chère, très chère, plus chère Varina Dieu te benisse.” Varina was “mon ange.”9
Her desire that he burn her letters brought forth a vigorous remonstrance: “If the house was on fire those letters with the flowers you have made sacred by wearing and the lock of your hair” would be the first things he would save. He asked that she retract her request because honoring it would inflict more pain on him than she could wish. He assured her that no one besides himself would see them, unless he died, and he did not expect to meet his end for some time. Unfortunately, however, Varina’s courtship letters have not survived.10
Davis also devoted much attention to Varina’s health, which was not always good in 1844. In his initial communications after she left Hurricane, he urged her to take care of herself. In order to prevent injury to her “angel eyes,” he advised against reading at night or keeping a light on in her bedchamber. A week later, rejoicing at the news that she was well, he wrote, “again I entreat you to take care of my wife.” Illnesses that she suffered in the autumn and winter elicited concern and anxiety from the absent sweetheart, and the pair considered postponement of their wedding.11
Davis continuously insisted to his betrothed that a bright future awaited them. If he were even half as good a person as she claimed, then “surely such little faults as you suppose you may commit could never disturb the harmony of our lives.” When finally they were together, she could instill “goodness and purity” into him, which would make him even more worthy. About her he had no doubt, though he did issue a caution. He confided that “there is but one species of error which an honorable woman is capable that could distress me if committed by my wife—e.g. such love of admiration, or excess of politeness as might induce one to fear that ridicule, or even detractive remarks were secretly made, but of this as a morbid feeling in its extent I have long since informed you as one of my many weaknesses.” Even so, he did not mean to suggest that his fiancée had any such traits. “You are always such as I wish you,” he confirmed.12
Nevertheless, one matter had come up that occasioned at least some disagreement. Varina evidently raised the possibility of their living someplace besides Davis Bend and even of his changing his occupation. Jefferson replied that if it were his “will” to decide how and where they lived, her wishes would be critical in his decision. He reminded her that he had often said, “we are controlled by a master not likely to regard either your wishes or mine.” Still, Jefferson had every confidence that Varina could “meet the exigencies and yeild to the necessities our fortune imposes.” His life as a cotton planter at Davis Bend had been decided upon. No room for discussion remained. Then, almost as a parent, he addressed her: “It is well however to be prepared for the worst which is within the range of possibilities as blessed are they who expect nothing, for surely they shall not be disappointed.”13
That parent-child dimension appeared more than once. Part of it was the mid-nineteenth-century social convention, especially in the South, in which husbands normally assumed the role of protector and guardian of the wife. The substantial difference in Jefferson and Varina’s ages could easily have led to an exaggerated form of that custom. Early in her engagement a possibly confused Varina called her father by Jefferson’s name. Disturbed, she shared the misnomer with Jefferson, who replied with a question: “Was it a mistake of langua[ge] if it so may be called to think of one thing and speak of another, or have you, my dear child, been sick again?” The adult solicitous of the child’s well-being also occasionally took on the pet name of “Uncle Jeff.”14 Davis’s wedding photograph graphically portrays the difference in their ages. Whereas Varina has a girlish appearance, almost demure, Jefferson no longer looks young. The long, angular features give him an aloof, or even aristocratic, countenance to accompany the resolute bearing of a mature man. The penetrating eyes dominate a face that seems to wear a sadness earned from experience. The look of constraint evinces a person who kept his emotions in check, even at this time of joy.15
The day before they married, he counseled: “Pray be calm and meet the contingency of this important change as becomes you, as one who has ‘a hurt for every fate.’ ” He spelled out what she could anticipate from him: “I will try to do better than I have ever promised to fulfill brighter hopes than I have ever inculcated and failing in this, my sympathy shall pour oil upon your wounds, my heart shall beat warmly to relieve you from the chills of misfortune’s winter and my form shall screen you from the lightnings of an angry destiny.” Finally, the eager bridegroom broke through. “I wish you would put in that Lion pawing up the dirt, without which I fear you will find the picture incomplete.”16
The wedding took place on February 26, 1845, at the Briars. Postponements had occurred because of Varina’s recurring illnesses in the late fall and early winter, but toward the end of February, with spring budding out along the lower Mississippi River, she rallied. With Jefferson in Natchez on one of his periodic visits, the decision was made to hold the ceremony promptly with only close relatives and a few Natchez friends present. For the second time no Davises attended Jefferson’s marriage. According to Varina’s later testimony, the wedding was neither an elaborate nor an expensive affair. The bride wore “a white embroidered Indian muslin with touches of lace, and a dark suit for her departure.” One of her two bridesmaids, a cousin, picked from the garden a rose that Varina placed in her hair. Her maternal grandmother gave her some jewelry—“a bracelet, necklace, brooch, and pendant earrings of cut glass with antique gold settings.” Her groom had given her an engagement ring, a large emerald with diamonds set in gold. The rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Natchez, the Howells’ religious home, officiated at the 11 a.m. c
eremony. After the exchange of vows, a wedding breakfast was served upstairs at the Briars in a room scented with white flowers from the Howells’ garden.17
Wedding picture of Jefferson and Varina Davis.
Courtesy of Varina Margaret Webb Stewart (photo credit i5.3)
Thereupon bride and groom boarded a steamboat to begin their wedding trip. Their ultimate destination was New Orleans, but first on the itinerary were stops with certain of Davis’s relatives. Downriver from Natchez they disembarked in West Feliciana Parish, Louisiana, to visit Jefferson’s sister Anna and her family at their home, Locust Grove, where Knox Taylor Davis had died a decade earlier. While there Jefferson and Varina walked to the family cemetery and placed flowers upon Knox’s grave. Next, the couple traveled about twenty-five miles north to Woodville, Mississippi, where Jefferson’s mother still lived at Poplar Grove with her daughter Lucinda, son-in-law William Stamps, their children, and other grandchildren. Now eighty-four years old, Jane Cook Davis was “so infirm” that she could not rise from her chair. Varina remembered her as “still fair to look upon,” even though she was nearly blind, almost deaf, and practically mute. Jane Davis greeted the newlyweds affectionately, telling them that she had always wanted her baby to remarry. Every day she asked for them. They both responded, but Varina told her mother that Jefferson was so sensitive about his mother’s mental failing that “I never stay with her while he is there.” Despite the sadness of Jane Davis’s decline, “the tender love [Jefferson] evinced for his sisters and family” along with “the warmest reception” given her by her in-laws impressed the new Mrs. Jefferson Davis.18
After a sojourn at Poplar Grove, Jefferson and Varina once more returned to the river and a steamboat, this time bound for New Orleans. Even as they awaited the boat, Varina admitted in a letter to her mother that she missed home and confessed that whenever she thought about her, she began crying like “an overgrown baby.” She hurried to add that “Uncle Jeff” never saw the tears and she quickly got over her momentary unhappiness. When the couple arrived in New Orleans, where they put up at the St. Charles Hotel, the city’s smartest, Varina was not grieving. On the very first night the Davises attended a soirée at the St. Charles, where Varina later recalled being introduced to “the first poet I had ever encountered.” Many years later, she recollected being charmed by the man she thought was an uncle of Oscar Wilde. She also thought well of one of her husband’s old commanders, General Edmund P. Gaines, and his wife. After enjoying themselves for some six weeks in the cosmopolitan center of the lower Mississippi Valley, the Davises once more embarked on a steamboat, this one to take them upriver back to Davis Bend.19
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