Browsing named entities in Varina Davis, Jefferson Davis: Ex-President of the Confederate States of America, A Memoir by his Wife, Volume 1. You can also browse the collection for James Pemberton or search for James Pemberton in all documents.

Your search returned 5 results in 5 document sections:

ence. Lieutenant Davis's labors were arduous, and during this time he was closely encompassed by bands of hostile Indians. The country was very wild; and he was indefatigable in his energetic pursuit of his duty. The weather was intensely cold, and he was often wet to the skin for hours. The exposure brought on pneumonia, and he lay for many months at this isolated place, directing, as best he could, the operations of the men from his bed. He became so emaciated that his servant, James Pemberton, used to lift him like a child from the bed to the window. During this period James carried the arms, the money, and everything of value possessed by his master, knowing that, at any time, he could be free with the simple ceremony of leaving-taking; but he remained throughout the whole period of Mr. Davis's service on the frontier, as tender and faithful as a brother; and he was held nearly as dear as one. Mr. Davis once gave a reminiscence of this sawmill, during the Confederacy,
Varina Davis, Jefferson Davis: Ex-President of the Confederate States of America, A Memoir by his Wife, Volume 1, Chapter 15: resignation from the army.-marriage to Miss Taylor.-Cuban visit.-winter in Washington.-President van Buren.-return to Brierfield, 1837. (search)
The Hurricane, which, by this time, had become a valuable plantation, with good quarters for the negroes and a comfortable dwelling for the owner. When Mr. Davis looked about him for an occupation by which he could support his family, his brother proposed to give him a certain tract of land called The Brierfield, in lieu of the interest Mr. Davis had in his father's negroes, which had passed into the service of Joseph E. Davis. This was accepted, and he, with his friend and servant James Pemberton — of whom he spoke in the fragment of his Autobiography given in this memoir-and ten negroes whom he bought with a loan from his brother, went to work on The Brierfield tract, so called because of a dense growth of briers which were interlocked over the land. The cane was too thick to be uprooted or cut, and they burned it, and then dug little holes in the ground and put in the cotton-seed, which made an unusually fine crop, and the prices of cotton then rendered it very remunerative.
, what I thought of Mr. Davis, and how much my husband thought of and loved him; and we found each other mutually agreeable. In about six weeks we returned to Brierfield, our home, and took up our abode in a cat and clayed house, situated in the centre of, and behind, a magnificent grove of oaks, and flanked by thrifty fig-trees; the Quarter houses being to the right and left of us. The building was one of my husband's experiments as an architect, and he and his friend and servant, James Pemberton, built it with the help of the negroes on the plantation. The rooms were of fair size, and opened on a paved brick gallery, surrounded by lattice-work; but some miscalculation about the windows had placed the sills almost breast high. The outer doors were six feet wide, but on these he especially dwelt as most desirable for admitting plenty of cool air; however, when they were opened, the side of the house seemed to be taken down. The fireplaces were very deep, and looked as though t
emed even to me to take shape, and become real after I saw the first harbinger of war. During the greater part of the journey Mr. Davis studied a little pocket edition of military tactics, and, when I remonstrated, explained agreeably the mysteries of enfilading, breaking column, hollow squares, and what not, and I felt that there was blood upon that hand. When we reached home, Colonel Davis set about arranging his plantation affairs so as to be absent a year or more from home. He and James Pemberton had a long and anxious conversation upon the advisability of James accompanying him; and James decided the matter himself, as he became satisfied, after counting over all the arguments, pro and con, that I should need his protection and the interest of the place might suffer in his absence. So my brother-in-law offered one of his negroes, named Jim Green, as a servant, and with an Arabian horse named Tartar, for himself, and a stout serviceable one for Jim, my husband left home to joi
uced by public considerations to reconsider my determination, and accept the office of Secretary of War. The public record of that period will best show how the duties of that office were performed. I proceeded on a round of visits to our family, to show the baby to our kinsfolks, hoping soon to be at home again and dwell in happy obscurity. My husband was, however, over-persuaded by his friends, and again our home was left, but this time for many years, to the care of hirelings. James Pemberton was dead, and we were reduced to the necessity of having an overseer. To be a good overseer requires as much talent for governing men as is needful for the general of an army-divine patience and ceaseless vigilance and industry, utter self-abnegation and an inflexible will. Need I say there are few good ones, and if there should be one, his ability and natural gifts remove him very soon from that sphere. The negroes are very shrewd in their classification of men, and the best jud