It’s time to celebrate dear old dad again. Another Father’s Day is here, as the recent deluge of power tool and men’s tie advertisements reminded us.
This year, I’m reminded of the two dads who led the two sides in the Civil War. Much has been written about how the lives of Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis began with a lot in common. Both were born in Kentucky just eight months and 125 miles apart. Then the Lincolns moved north, the Davises moved south and the rest, as they say, is history.
But the pair also shared a little-known paternal bond, one no father should ever experience. This is their story.
William Wallace Lincoln was an interesting blue-eyed little boy. The third son of Abraham and Mary Lincoln, he and younger brother Tad were described as “notorious hellions,” chiefly because their father kept a loose hold on the discipline reins.
But Willie, as he was known, was also charming and intelligent. He and his father were especially close. There was a sensitive, tender side to the child, too. One of my favorite tales about him happened during Lincoln’s first months in the White House. The family was having breakfast and Tad was upset about something. Willie grew lost in deep thought. Then his face brightened. Lincoln looked at his son and said, “You’ve got it, haven’t you? You’ve figured out how to make Tad happy.” Willie nodded. Lincoln turned to Mary and beamed with pride as he said something along the lines of, “I can tell you every step he went through to reach his decision because our minds work so much alike.”
But Willie Lincoln didn’t live in the White House for long. He and Tad became seriously ill in early 1862. Modern research suggests typhoid fever caused by tainted Potomac River water was likely the culprit. While Tad’s case wasn’t severe, Willie went from improving one day to worsening the next. Lincoln fretted over his son’s condition while serving as commander in chief of a nation at war with itself. It was sheer agony trying to spend as much time as possible with Willie while also supervising military movements.
The end came at 5:00 p.m. on Thursday, Feb. 20. Willie Lincoln was 11 years old. His devastated father sobbed at the bedside, “It is hard, hard to have him die!”
Just before the funeral, a raging thunderstorm howled through Washington. Mary was too distraught to attend the service. Willie was buried in Georgetown’s Oak Hill Cemetery. When this father was assassinated three years later, a funeral train carried two caskets back home to Illinois.
One hundred miles away in Richmond, Va., Jefferson Davis was also the father of four young children, with a fifth on the way. They included Margaret, Jefferson Jr., William, and Joe.
Joseph Evans Davis was called exceptionally bright and said to be the best behaved of all the Davis offspring. He seemed to have been the kind of little boy everyone loved.
He turned five years old on April 18, 1864. Tragedy struck twelve days later. April 30 was a warm Saturday. Windows in the Confederate White House were open that afternoon. Joe went exploring the way little boys in every era do. He fell over a porch railing onto pavement 15 feet below. Jefferson Jr. screamed for help. Everyone within earshot came running. Joe was carried inside and died of massive internal injuries about an hour later. His parents had been away at the time of the accident; they returned home just as their son was dying.
Jefferson Davis was inconsolable. He was heard pacing the floor in his study all night. Although daughter Winnie was born two months later, some people claimed Davis was never the same after that. Joe was buried in Richmond’s Hollywood Cemetery. His father’s remains were later reinterred there alongside his little son.
Losing a child is one of life’s most traumatic experiences. No exception is made for parents in time of war, even for those in charge of the fighting. And so the two dads who led different sides in the bloody conflict that cost so many fathers their sons shared their grief by losing sons of their own.
J. Mark Powell (@JMarkPowell) is a contributor to the Washington Examiner’s Beltway Confidential blog. He is a former broadcast journalist and government communicator. His weekly offbeat look at our forgotten past, “Holy Cow! History,” can be read at jmarkpowell.com.
