was to leave — I packed the bust [of his deceased son, Samuel] and gave it to Jno. Davis who offered to take it & put it where it should never be found by a Yankee — I also gave him charge of the painting of the heroes of the valley — Both were removed after dark — The furniture of the house was left and very little of the things I directed to be put up — beddings and groceries were saved. Mrs. Omelia behaved just as you described her, but seemed anxious to serve and promised to take care of every thing which may mean some things. The Auctioneer returned acct of sale 28,400 dollars — could not dispose of the carriages — Mr. Grant was afraid to take the carriage to his house — &c. &c. I sent it to the Depot to be put on a flat, at the moment of starting it was said they could not take it in that train but would bring it on the next one — It has not been heard from since — I sent a message to Mr. Grant that I had neglected to return the cow and wished him to send for her immediately —
Called off on horseback to the Depot, I left the servants to go down with the boxes and they left Tippy — Watson came willingly, Spencer came against my will, Robert Alf. V.B. & Ives got drunk — David Bradford went back from the Depot to bring out the spoons and forks which I was told had been left — and to come out with Genl. Breckinridge since then I have not heard from either of them — I had short notice, was interrupted so often and so little aided that the results are very unsatisfactory.
The people here have been very kind, and the Mayor & Council have offered assistance in the matter of quarters and have very handsomely declared their unabated confidence — I do not wish to leave Va, but cannot decide on my movements until those of the Army are better developed — I hope you are comfortable and trust soon to hear from you.
Kiss my dear children — I weary of this sad recital and have nothing pleasant to tell — May God have you in his holy keeping is the fervent prayer of your ever affectionate
Husband
It was an odd letter. Davis had just lost his capital, the military situation was dire, and yet he wrote of personal things—carriages, paintings, a sculpture, and silver spoons. At first, this checklist makes Davis seem out of touch, oblivious to the danger, even foolish. Davis had never indulged such petty concerns during the war. Even when Union forces closed in on his beloved Mississippi plantation, Brierfield, and when Confederate soldiers were placed at his disposal to rescue his possessions, he declined the offer, proclaiming that the army does not act for the president’s personal convenience. The purpose of Davis’s letter was to calm Varina, to reassure her that the world had not yet turned upside down, that he had left their home with a sense of order—and that he had rescued her favorite painting of Stonewall Jackson and the precious marble bust of her dead son, Samuel. All was not chaos, at least not yet.
A fter Lincoln’s tour of Richmond, he returned to City Point, not to Washington. He still did not want to leave the field. He wanted to be there, with his army, for the end. His visit to the rebel capital had given him a taste of victory. On April 5, Secretary of State William Seward sent a telegraph to Lincoln: “We need your personal sanction to several matters here which are important and urgent in conducting the Government but not at all critical or serious. Are you coming up or shall I go down to you with the papers. The public interest will not suffer by you remaining where you are.”
But Lincoln did not want to go home: “Yours of to-day received. I think there is no probability of my remaining here more than two days longer. If that is too long come down. I passed last night at Richmond and have just returned.”
I n Danville, Jefferson Davis did not know that Abraham Lincoln was using the White House of the Confederacy as an office to conduct peace negotiations with
Called off on horseback to the Depot, I left the servants to go down with the boxes and they left Tippy — Watson came willingly, Spencer came against my will, Robert Alf. V.B. & Ives got drunk — David Bradford went back from the Depot to bring out the spoons and forks which I was told had been left — and to come out with Genl. Breckinridge since then I have not heard from either of them — I had short notice, was interrupted so often and so little aided that the results are very unsatisfactory.
The people here have been very kind, and the Mayor & Council have offered assistance in the matter of quarters and have very handsomely declared their unabated confidence — I do not wish to leave Va, but cannot decide on my movements until those of the Army are better developed — I hope you are comfortable and trust soon to hear from you.
Kiss my dear children — I weary of this sad recital and have nothing pleasant to tell — May God have you in his holy keeping is the fervent prayer of your ever affectionate
Husband
It was an odd letter. Davis had just lost his capital, the military situation was dire, and yet he wrote of personal things—carriages, paintings, a sculpture, and silver spoons. At first, this checklist makes Davis seem out of touch, oblivious to the danger, even foolish. Davis had never indulged such petty concerns during the war. Even when Union forces closed in on his beloved Mississippi plantation, Brierfield, and when Confederate soldiers were placed at his disposal to rescue his possessions, he declined the offer, proclaiming that the army does not act for the president’s personal convenience. The purpose of Davis’s letter was to calm Varina, to reassure her that the world had not yet turned upside down, that he had left their home with a sense of order—and that he had rescued her favorite painting of Stonewall Jackson and the precious marble bust of her dead son, Samuel. All was not chaos, at least not yet.
A fter Lincoln’s tour of Richmond, he returned to City Point, not to Washington. He still did not want to leave the field. He wanted to be there, with his army, for the end. His visit to the rebel capital had given him a taste of victory. On April 5, Secretary of State William Seward sent a telegraph to Lincoln: “We need your personal sanction to several matters here which are important and urgent in conducting the Government but not at all critical or serious. Are you coming up or shall I go down to you with the papers. The public interest will not suffer by you remaining where you are.”
But Lincoln did not want to go home: “Yours of to-day received. I think there is no probability of my remaining here more than two days longer. If that is too long come down. I passed last night at Richmond and have just returned.”
I n Danville, Jefferson Davis did not know that Abraham Lincoln was using the White House of the Confederacy as an office to conduct peace negotiations with
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