The
Spirit of Christmas Past...

Varina
Davis
Watercolor
on ivory
by
John Wood Dodge
FROM: The New York WORLD, Sunday,
December 13, 1896
NOTE: The left margin of
this clipping is ragged at beginning.
Missing or fragmentary
words that could not be puzzled
out are indicated as "missing"
Christmas
In The Confederate White House.
Written
especially for the Sunday World Magazine by Mrs. Jefferson Davis.
While looking over
the advertisements of the toys and everything else intended to make the
children joyful in
the columns of the city papers, I have been impressed with the contrast
between the present
time and the con-[missing] of the Southern country thirty-one years ago,
but not withstanding
the great facilities of the present time, have been unable to decide
whether for the young
it was not as gay then as now. For as Christmas season was ushered
in under the darkest
clouds, everyone felt the cataclysm which [missing] but the rosy,
expectant faces of
our little children were a constant reminder that self-sacrifice must be
the personal offering of each member of the family. How to satisfy the
children when nothing better could be done than the little makeshift attainable
in the Confederacy was the problem of the older members of each household.
There were no currants, raisins or other ingredients to fill the old Virginia
recipe for mince pie. [Missing] the children considered that at least a
slice of that much-coveted dainty was their right and the price of indigestion
paid for it was a debt of honor [missing] from them to the season's exactions.
Apple trees grew and bore in spite of war's alarms, so the foundation of
the mixture was assured. The many excited housekeepers in Richmond had
preserved all the fruits attainable, and these were substituted for the
time-honored raisins and currants. The brandy [missing] for seasoning at
one hundred dollars a bottle. [Missing] was forthcoming, the cider was
obtained. Suet at a dollar a pound was ordered -- and the [missing] seemed
a blessed certainty -- but the eggnog -- [missing] were the eggs and liquors
to be procured -- without which Christmas would be a failure to the [missing].
EGGNOG FOR THE NEGROES.
"If it's only a little
wineglass," said the [missing], dusty-looking negro rubber in the stables
who [missing] in the back log (our substitute for the [missing] eggnog).
"I dunno how we gwine git along without no eggnog." So, after redoubled
efforts, the liquors and other ingredients were secured in admirable quantities.
The little jackets, pieced together out of such cloth remaining when uniforms
were turned out by the tailors, were issued to the children of the soldiers,
amid the remonstrances of the mothers that the pattern of them "wasn't
worth a cent." Rice, flour, molasses and tiny pieces of meat, most of them
sent to the President's wife anonymously to be distributed to the poor,
had all be weighed and issued, and the playtime of the family began, but
like a clap of thunder out of a clear sky came the information that the
orphans at the Episcopalian home had been promised a Christmas tree and
the toys, candy and cakes must be provided, as well as one pretty prize
for the most orderly girl among the orphans. The kind-hearted confectioner
was interviewed by our committee of managers, and he promised a certain
amount of his simpler kinds of candy, which he sold easily a dollar and
a half a pound, but he drew the line at cornucopias to hold it, or sugared
fruits to hang on the tree, and all the other vestiges of Christmas creations
which had lain on his hands for years. The ladies dispersed in anxious
squads of toy-hunters, and each one turned over the store of her children's
treasures for a contribution to the orphans' tree, my little ones rushed
over the great house looking up their treasure eyeless dolls, three-legged
horses, tops with the upper peg broken off, rubber tops, monkeys with all
the squeak gone silent and all the ruck of children's toys that gather
in a nursery closet.
MAKESHIFT
TOYS FOR THE ORPHANS.
Some small feathered
chickens and parrots which nodded their heads in obedience to a weight
beneath them were furnished with new tail feathers, lambs minus much of
their wool were supplied with a cotton wool substitute, rag dolls were
plumped out and recovered with clean cloth, and the young ladies painted
their fat faces in bright colors and furnished them with beads for eyes.
But the tug of war was how to get something with which to decorate the
orphans' tree. Our man servant, Robert Brown, was much interested and offered
to make the prize toy. He contemplated a "sure enough house, with four
rooms." His part in the domestic service was delegated to another and he
gave himself over in silence and solitude to the labors of the architect.
My sister painted mantel shelves, door panels, pictures and frames for
the walls, and finished with black grates in which their blazed a roaring
fire, which was pronounced marvelously realistic. We all made furniture
of twigs and pasteboard, and my mother made pillows, mattresses, sheets
and pillow cases for the two little bedrooms. Christmas Eve a number of
young people were invited to come and string apples and popcorn for the
trees; a neighbor very deft in domestic arts had tiny candle moulds made
and furnished all the candles for the tree. However the puzzle and triumph
of all was the construction of a large number of cornucopias. At last someone
suggested a conical block of wood, about which the drawing paper could
be wound and pasted. In a little book shop a number of small, highly colored
pictures cut out and ready to apply were unearthed, and our old confectioner
friend, Mr. Piazzi, consented, with a broad smile, to give "all the love
verses the young people wanted to roll with the candy."
A CHRISTMAS EVE PARTY.
About twenty young
men and girls gathered around small tables in one of the drawing rooms
of the mansion and the cornucopias were begun. The men wrapped the squares
of candy, first reading the "sentiments" printed upon them, such as "Roses
are red, violets blue, sugar's sweet and so are you," "If you love me as
I love you no knife can cut our love in two." The fresh young faces, wreathed
in smiles, nodded attention to the reading, while with their small deft
hands they gined [?] the cornucopias and pasted on the pictures. Where
were the silk tops to come from? Trunks of old things were turned out and
snippings of silk and even woolen of bright colors were found to close
the tops, and some of the young people twisted sewing silk into cords with
which to draw the bags up. The beauty of those home-made things astonished
us all, for they looked quite "custom-made," but when the "sure enough
house" was revealed to our longing gaze the young people clapped their
approbation, while Robert, whose sense of dignity did not permit him to
smile, stood the impersonation of successful artist and bowed his thanks
for our approval. Then the coveted eggnog was passed around in tiny glass
cups and pronounced good. Crisp home-made ginger snaps and snowy lady cake
completed the refreshments of Christmas Eve. The children allowed to sit
up and be noisy in their way as an indulgence took a sip of eggnog out
of my cup, and the eldest boy confided to his father: "Now I just know
this is Christmas." In most of the houses in Richmond these same scenes
were enacted, certainly in every one of the homes of the managers of the
Episcopalian Orphanage. A bowl of eggnog was sent to the servants, and
a part of everything they coveted of the dainties. At last quiet settled
on the household and the older members of the family began to stuff stockings
with molasses candy, red apples, an orange, small whips plaited by the
family with high-colored crackers, worsted reins knitted at home, paper
dolls, teetotums made of large horn bottoms and a match which could spin
indefinitely, balls of worsted rags wound hard and covered with old kid
gloves, a pair of pretty woolen gloves for each, either cut of cloth and
embroidered on the back or knitted by some deft hand out of home-spun wool.
For the President there were a pair of chamois-skin riding gauntlets exquisitely
embroidered on the back with his monogram in red and white silk, made,
as the giver wrote, under the guns of Fortress Monroe late at night for
fear of discovery. There was a hemstitched linen handkerchief, with a little
sketch in indelible ink in one corner; the children had written him little
letters, their grandmother having held their hands, the burthen of which
compositions was how they loved their dear father. For one of the inmates
of the home, who was greatly loved but whose irritable temper was his prominent
failing, their was a pretty cravat, the ends of which were embroidered,
as was the fashion of the day. The pattern chosen was simple and on it
was pinned a card with the word "amiable" to complete the sentence. One
of the [missing] received a present of an illuminated copy of Solomon's
proverbs found in the same old store from which the pictures came. He studied
it for some time and announced: "I have changed my opinion of Solomon,
he uttered such unnecessary platitudes -- now why should he have said 'The
foolishness of a fool is his folly'?" On Christmas morning the children
awoke early and came in to see their toys. They were followed by the negro
women, who one after another "caught" us by wishing us a merry Christmas
before we could say it to them, which gave them a right to a gift. Of course,
there was a present for every one, small though it might be, and one who
had been born and brought up at our plantation was vocal in her admiration
of a gay handkerchief. As she left the room she ejaculated: "Lord knows
mistress knows our insides; she jest got the very thing I wanted."
MRS. DAVIS'S STRANGE
PRESENTS.
For me there were
six cakes of delicious soap, made from the grease of ham boiled for a family
at Farmville, a skein of exquisitely fine gray linen thread spun at home,
a pincushion of some plain brown cotton material made by some poor woman
and stuffed with wool from her pet sheep, and a little baby hat plaited
by the orphans and presented by the industrious little pain who sewed the
straw together. They pushed each other silently to speak, and at last mutely
offered the hat, and considered the kiss they gave the sleeping little
one ample reward for the industry and far above the fruit with which they
were laden. Another present was a fine, delicate little baby frock without
an inch of lace or embroidery upon it, but the delicate fabric was set
with fairy stitches by the dear invalid neighbor who made it, and it was
very precious in my eyes. There were also a few of Swinburne's best songs
bound in wall-paper and a chamois needlebook left for me by young Mr. P.,
now succeeded to his title in England. In it was a Brobdinagian thimble
"for my own finger, you know," said the handsome, cheerful young fellow.
After breakfast, at which all the family, great and small, were present,
came the walk to St. Paul's Church. We did not use our carriage on Christmas
or, if possible to avoid it, on Sunday. The saintly Dr. Minnegerode preached
a sermon on Christian love, the introit was sung by a beautiful young society
woman and the angels might have joyfully listened. Our chef did wonders
with the turkey and roast beef, and drove the children quite out of their
propriety by a spun sugar hen, life-size, on a nest full of blanc mange
eggs. The mince pie and plum pudding made them feel, as one of the gentlemen
laughingly remarked, "like their jackets were buttoned," a strong description
of repletion which I have never forgotten. They waited with great impatience
and evident dyspeptic symptoms for the crowning amusement of the day, "the
children's tree." My eldest boy, a chubby little fellow of seven, came
to me several times to whisper: "Do you think I ought to give the orphans
my I.D. studs?" When told no, he beamed with the delight of an approving
conscience. All throughout the afternoon first one little head and then
another popped in at the door to ask: "Isn't it 8 o'clock yet?," burning
with impatience to see the "children's tree."
DAVIS
HELPED SANTA CLAUS.
When at last we reached
the basement of St. Paul's Church the tree burst upon their view like the
realization of Aladdin's subterranean orchard, and they were awed by its
grandeur. The orphans sat mute with astonishment until the opening hymn
and prayer and the last amen had been said, and then they at a signal warily
and slowly gathered around the tree to receive from a lovely young girl
their allotted present. The different gradations from joy to ecstasy which
illuminated their faces was "worth two years of peaceful life" to see.
The President became so enthusiastic that he undertook to help in the distribution,
but worked such wild confusion giving everything asked for into their outstretched
hands, that we called a halt, so he contented himself with unwinding one
or two tots from a network of strung popcorn in which they had become entangled
and taking off all apples he could when unobserved, and presenting them
to the smaller children. When at last the house was given to the "honor
girl" she moved her lips without emitting a sound, but held it close to
her breast and went off in a corner to look and be glad without witnesses.
"When the lights were fled, the garlands dead, and all but we departed"
we also went home to find that Gen. Lee had called in our absence, and
many other people. Gen. Lee had left word that he had received a barrel
of sweet potatoes for us, which had been sent to him by mistake. He did
not discover the mistake until he had taken his share (a dishful) and given
the rest to the soldiers! We wished it had been much more for them and
him.
OFFICERS IN A STARVATION
DANCE.
The night closed with
a "starvation" party, where there were no refreshments, at a neighboring
house. The rooms lighted as well as practicable, some one willing to play
dance music on the piano and plenty of young men and girls comprised the
entertainment. Sam Weller's soiry[sic], consisting of boiled mutton and
capers, would have been a royal feast in the Confederacy. The officers,
who rode into town with their long cavalry boots pulled well up over their
knees, but splashed up their waists, put up their horses and rushed to
the places where their dress uniform suits had been left for safekeeping.
They very soon emerged, however, in full toggery and entered into the pleasures
of their dance with the bright-eyed girls, who many of them were fragile
as fairies, but worked like peasants for their home and country. These
young people are gray-haired now, but the lessons of self-denial, industry
and frugality in which they became past mistresses then, have made of them
the most dignified, self-reliant and tender women I have ever known --
all honor to them.
So, in the interchange
of the courtesies and charities of life, to which we could not add its
comforts and pleasures, passed the last Christmas in the Confederate mansion.
VARINA JEFFERSON DAVIS.
This
newspaper
clipping is included among the Jefferson Davis Papers at Rice University
(Houston, TX). Transcribed & uploaded by Michael K. Smith 73177,366.
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