As the disease progressed, according to biographer Joan Cashin, Varina felt “increasingly guilty as she nursed her daughter, crying that never again would she send her child on such a ‘useless errand.’”14 Varina also admitted to her friend Constance that Winnie had not wanted to go to the reunion. Varina told Connie the doctors still expected Winnie to recover fully within a month.15
As she grew weaker and weaker, Winnie worried about her mother and their precarious financial state. Her second novel, A Romance of Summer Seas, was due to be published by Harper’s in the fall. “‘We shall have our carriage when my book sells,” she reassured her mother.16 As ill as she was, Winnie remained concerned both about her potential income and her literary reputation. Charles Dudley Warner wrote her during this time, and Varina made sure to read Winnie his letter full of praise for her literary career. Warner would ultimately write Winnie’s obituary.17
During the last week of Winnie’s life, she had frequent rallies that led her mother and her doctors to believe she would recover. Because of her illness, she and Varina were allowed to stay in the hotel even after the establishment had closed for the season. The atmosphere must have been lonely and desolate. The summer socialites had left and taken their gaiety and glamour with them. On Saturday evening, September 17, Winnie had a terrible relapse. By Sunday morning death was imminent, and she died in the Rockingham Hotel at noon that day.18
Varina must have been completely traumatized by this turn of events. It may have felt a bit like her son Joe’s death back in 1864. In that instance she had blamed herself for not having been at the Executive Mansion when her little boy fell off the balcony. In Winnie’s case the distraught mother had already proclaimed her regret to Connie Harrison over having sent Winnie to the veterans’ reunion in July. In neither death was Varina directly to blame, but such thoughts may have preyed heavily on her conscience. The Widow of the Confederacy’s youngest daughter was the child she had bonded with most completely of all her brood. Winnie was her companion, her caretaker, and her confidante.
Winnie’s death remains mysterious and is still not sufficiently accounted for. Nineteenth-century medicine was still a crude science, so historians will probably never know the exact cause of her strange affliction. It is unlikely, however, that one would die from being drenched in a rainstorm. There must have been underlying physical and perhaps mental factors at play. Perhaps the young woman caught a stomach bug or other infection on her trip to Egypt. She was exhausted from that trip abroad and the journey that followed soon afterward to Atlanta. Winnie was physically frail to begin with and had always suffered from stomach ailments.
The young author never ate much, sometimes not at all. It is possible she suffered from an underlying eating disorder that had damaged her stomach. Or perhaps the stress of many years of living under the public microscope had strained her physical limits. Her death register notes that she died from “acute gastritis and gastroenteritis.”19
Her father’s medical history was very similar to Winnie’s. He was constantly ill, with a “never-ending series of symptoms and complaints.”20 Like Winnie, Jefferson had suffered from frequent eye and stomach troubles. Any kind of stress took a physical toll on him. When Jefferson was serving as president of the Confederacy, the extreme stress he was under often forced him to withdraw for days. Bad news would often precipitate his nervous attacks.21 Unfortunately, Winnie seemed to have inherited a similar pattern of her father’s physical tendencies as well as his predisposition toward stress and anxiety.
After the young woman’s death, telegrams and condolence letters poured in from friends all over the country as well as from United Confederate Veterans’ groups and United Daughters of the Confederacy chapters but not, apparently, from Winnie’s former fiancé.22 Elaborate floral arrangements were sent from all quarters, filling the hotel parlors. The townspeople of Narragansett Pier were allowed to come pay their respects once the body had been dressed and laid out.23
A small wake was held for close friends and family at the Majestic Hotel, located at 125 West 44th Street in New York City, where the Davis women had moved from the Hotel Gerard.24 Accounts mention the presence of Winnie’s dear friend Kate Pulitzer as well as that of Mary Custis Lee, the daughter of Gen. Robert E. Lee.25 Winnie’s young friends could simply not believe she was gone. No longer would she be part of New York’s vibrant literary and artistic scene, nor would she be seen again in her role as princess of the Confederate veterans’ events.
Kate must have felt Winnie’s loss keenly, as the two women had been constant companions and best friends for years. Perhaps she also wondered if their recent trip to Egypt had somehow resulted in her dear friend’s early demise. We have no record of her thoughts, just of Kate’s constant soothing presence while mourning her friend and relative both in New York and in Richmond.
It was Kate in fact, and not Varina, who signed Winnie’s death certificate in Narragansett. Under “informant” is Kate’s signature: Kate Davis Pulitzer. Varina was presumably too upset to attend to this clerical detail. Kate was also a distant Davis cousin; perhaps it was because of this relationship, as well as her calm personality, that she was allowed to take care of this unpleasant duty for Winnie’s distraught mother.26
It was quickly decided that the funeral would take place in Richmond, the former capital of the Confederacy. Indeed, on September 19, 1898, the Richmond Dispatch newspaper proudly underlined the significance of this choice: “In no city was the announcement of her death received with more genuine sorrow than in Richmond. Though Miss Davis had not visited this city frequently, she was born here, and the people of the capital of the Confederacy felt that she was peculiarly near to them, for Richmond people cherish more dearly than those of any other city, probably, the memories and traditions of the Lost Cause.”27
The public mourning surrounding Winnie’s unexpected demise came equally from her friends North and South. No one could believe it. The Daughter of the Confederacy was just thirty-four. As southern writer and poet Robert Penn Warren famously observed, the South that had adored Winnie with a consuming passion ultimately rendered her “the last casualty of the Lost Cause.”28
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Death and the Maiden
Varina was surely stunned that in a matter of weeks her youngest daughter could have been taken from her. Like Samuel, little Joe, Billy, and Jeff Jr. before her, Winnie had died tragically and far too young. How could a mother bear it? Many parents would have been crushed by so much tragedy. But Varina had already been through hell and back several times. And she still had one last shoulder to lean upon.
Margaret Hayes, Winnie’s older married sister, quickly responded to the crisis with a telegram, making her travel plans to join Varina as soon as possible: “Darling Mother am broken hearted no train till tonight.”1 She made her way directly from Colorado Springs to Narragansett Pier to meet the funeral train. From there Varina, Margaret, and several other close family friends, including Burton Harrison and Kate Pulitzer, prepared to set off on the grueling overnight trip to Richmond on September 22.2
Seven Union veterans, members of the Sedgewick Post No. 7, Grand Army of the Republic, Wakefield, Rhode Island, escorted Winnie’s body from the Rockingham Hotel to the railroad station.3 Winnie’s body was loaded onto the train at Narragansett, and the funeral train began its long journey south.
The young author’s northern friends were just as shocked and aggrieved as their southern counterparts. Winnie had died so unexpectedly. It was said that “the entire city, and even state, of New York turned out to pay tribute to the Daughter of the Confederacy . . . joining the funeral march to the railroad station.”4
Many agreed with the symbolism of burying the Daughter of the Confederacy in the former capital of the Confederacy. Although Winnie had spent most of her adult life abroad or in New York, Richmond was eager to claim her as one of its own. She had been born there, and memories of the Lost Cause and all those associated with it were stil
l strong.5 Winnie was granted a full military funeral, a rare honor for any woman and one her mother would insist on for herself (Varina died in 1906).6
The funeral train finally arrived at 8:40 a.m. at Union Depot in Richmond on Friday morning, September 23, 1898. The day was gloomy and cheerless. The sun would not shine until much later in the afternoon. A large crowd met the weary and bereaved travelers at the station. The throng included many members of Richmond’s Lee and Pickett camps of Confederate veterans, important members of the United Daughters of the Confederacy (UDC), and family friends and prominent Richmonders such as Col. and Mrs. Archer Anderson, Hon. and Mrs. J. Taylor Ellyson, Col. and Mrs. E. L. Hobson, and Dr. and Mrs. George Ross.7
The Victorian obsession with death is clearly evident in the many morbid descriptions of the mourners’ grief, the funeral proceedings, and “death dreams.” A Richmond newspaper related a prescient vision Varina had supposedly had earlier that summer. Winnie reportedly told a family friend that she had had a dream about her own death. The friend related Winnie’s nightmare to Varina, who then had her own dream about Winnie’s demise. A few days before Varina left New York for her annual Narragansett Pier vacation, the newspaper claimed: “Mrs. Davis said she dreamed one night that she was in some place which she did not recognize. There seemed to be a great commotion among the people around her, the cause of which she could not understand . . . Suddenly, someone passed her hurriedly, and she asked of him the cause of the excitement . . . ‘Winnie is dead!’ was the reply.”8
Varina, never a favorite with the press, was among the first to be scrutinized as she left the cocoon of the funeral train into the blazing glare of publicity at Richmond’s Union Depot. “Bent with the weight of years,” reported the Richmond Dispatch on September 24, “she leaned heavily upon the arm of Colonel Archer Anderson, and upon her stick, as she walked slowly and painfully to the carriage awaiting her. There was a look of intense anguish on her face, but she bore up bravely.”9 Varina, though slim as a young woman, had grown stout with age. She greatly resembled Queen Victoria in her later years and was dressed in much the same fashion for mourning that the queen had worn since the death of Prince Albert in 1861.
Traditional mourning dress of the period required women to wear heavy black crepe dresses, bombazine (a combination of silk and wool) cloaks, crepe bonnets with veils, and a full complement of mourning accessories, such as black gloves, belts, fans, and handbags. The fashion for mourning jewelry reached its height during the Civil War period because of the constant heavy casualties. Jet, which was made of fossilized coal, was used frequently in earrings, bracelets, brooches, and necklaces.
An entire art form sprung up during this era around ornaments made from the hair of the deceased. This morbid but wildly popular practice involved twisting the hair of the departed into intricate knots to be used in mourning brooches in particular. The women of Richmond and the honored guests who attended the funeral—including Varina, Margaret, and Winnie’s close friend Kate Pulitzer—would have been dressed according to such mourning fashion dictates.10
The description of Winnie’s corpse found in the Richmond Dispatch is particularly gruesome in its invasiveness, feeding a Victorian public and press ravenous for details of the deceased: “The appearance of the corpse was perfectly natural, the face being serene and smiling, showing no evidence of the illness through which she [Winnie] had passed.” Winnie’s casket was also described in detail in the Richmond Dispatch newspaper account: “The casket was an exceedingly handsome one of walnut wood, copper-lined and satin finishings covered with black velvet. The handles were of silver and a plate of the same metal bore the inscription:
VARINA ANNE DAVIS
Died September 18, 1898
Aged 33 Years.”11
Close friends of the Davis family and members of the Confederate veterans’ camps escorted the body to St. Paul’s Church in downtown Richmond. A guard of honor led the procession in a single line, followed by the casket borne by pallbearers and Confederate veterans. The casket was placed on a hearse and drawn by four white horses, arriving at St. Paul’s by way of Seventh and Grace Streets.
Upon arrival at the church, Winnie’s coffin was placed on a catafalque, where she would remain under the charge of a guard of honor until the service began at 3:30 p.m. Twice during the morning the casket was opened, once for Winnie’s sister, Margaret, and once for cousin and friend Kate Pulitzer.12
Many noted the “great outpouring of patriotic feeling throughout the South for the popular Daughter of the Confederacy.”13 According to historian Cita Cook, the event may have been “the largest funeral held for an American female in the nineteenth century.”14 As early as one o’clock on the day of the event, a huge throng filled the streets from the church railings near the St. Clair Hotel on one end to the railings near Capitol Square on the other.15
For the United Daughters of the Confederacy, Winnie’s death was a terrible blow. A general order from the organization on September 20, 1898, declared the UDC’s grief at losing its inspiration and chief role model: “The love and devotion bestowed on her, by the entire Southland, was but a just tribute to her glorious womanhood. As daughter, sister, friend, she was true to every duty, and we can proudly take her as a fitting model for all to imitate and revere.”16
UDC members would wear a badge of mourning for thirty days, each chapter would hold its own memorial service for Winnie, and a special page in the book of records was set aside for the organization’s fallen icon. Her early death would immortalize the Daughter of the Confederacy more definitively than any UDC event she had attended or blessed during her lifetime.
Most written portraits of Winnie from this time did not acknowledge the melancholy that haunted her. She was portrayed as a one-dimensional icon without the complexities that lay just under the surface. A Richmond newspaper article from September 23, 1898, fancifully stated: “There was a sunshine in her heart that illumined the lives of those about her. A thousand men had said today that she was the cheerfullest woman that had ever lived; and surely there can be no better epitaph.”17
The church of choice for Winnie’s funeral could have been none other than St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in downtown Richmond. The enormous Greek Revival structure had dominated the downtown landscape since the church’s consecration in 1845. St. Paul’s is the city church most identified with the Confederacy and its prominent leaders. Still one of the largest Episcopal churches in Virginia, the church seats up to eight hundred congregants. Gen. Robert E. Lee and his wife had their own pew at St. Paul’s for the duration of the Civil War, as did Jefferson and Varina. In 1862 Davis was confirmed as a member of the parish. Four of the church’s most striking stained glass windows are dedicated to Jefferson Davis and General Lee.18
When downtown Richmond burned at the end of the Civil War, St. Paul’s was miraculously spared. It has always retained its status as a church of choice for prominent Richmonders as well as visiting delegates, church officials, and even British royalty. In 1860 the Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII) attended services at the church. Despite St. Paul’s strong association with the Confederate cause, the parish also performed baptisms, marriages, and funerals for both free and enslaved blacks.19
This particular house of worship provided the perfect theater for Winnie’s tragedy. At the time the interior of the church was devoid of much religious symbolism—an interest in reviving medieval imagery within St. Paul’s decor had only just begun in the 1890s.20 The lack of decoration in the church allowed space for the Lost Cause imagery to take hold, with Winnie playing the part in the minds of the Lost Cause faithful of a young vestal virgin who had willingly sacrificed herself for the ideals of the Confederacy. Winnie’s death at such a young age—and the fact that she was unmarried and unfettered by children, marriage, or a household—allowed her image to be fixed and frozen, awarding her perpetual celebrity status within the community of former Confederates.
At 3:30 p.m., as the service b
egan, the First Regiment Band played Bottman’s funeral dirge as the bells of all the city churches tolled mournfully. As the procession entered the church, the organist appropriately played the “Jefferson Davis Funeral March.” At the request of Mrs. Davis, “a huge wreath of orchids with yellow roses, sent by family friends Joseph and Kate Pulitzer, was placed at the head of the coffin. The Confederate battle-flag lay upon the lower half and covered the black fur rug which lay beneath the catafalque.”21
Hundreds of other floral arrangements crowded both the church and, later that day, the burial site at Hollywood Cemetery. Funeral wreaths were sent from Confederate veterans’ chapters throughout the country, United Daughters of the Confederacy chapters, and personal friends of the Davis family. The profusion of gorgeous botanical displays included roses, palmettos, carnations, lilies of the valley, geraniums, American Beauty roses, ivy, heliotrope, magnolia branches in bloom, and a red lyre-shaped wreath of dahlias.22 All these flowers’ scents mingled together may have provoked a slightly nauseated feeling, combined with the heat of so many guests in the pews.
Within this gorgeously decorated Grecian temple, the Daughter of the Confederacy was worshipped publicly one last time. The Reverend Dr. H. Carmichael, rector of St. Paul’s Church, conducted the service, with the Reverend Dr. Moses D. Hoge assisting. Dr. Hoge, a ruddy-faced man with muttonchop whiskers and a serious manner,23 led an antiphonal reading of the Psalms, and Dr. Carmichael read the lesson and delivered the sermon. The hymns sung for the service were some of Winnie’s favorites: “Nearer My God to Thee,” “Art Thou Weary,” and the final hymn, “Peace, Perfect Peace.” Before the final hymn began, Dr. Hoge intoned, “Blessed are the pure at heart, for they shall see God.”24 Once again, the notion of Winnie as pure and unspoiled was reinforced for the audience of Confederate veterans, family, and friends.
Winnie Davis Page 20