Chicken Supreme & Turkey Hash

Dinner at the Executive mansion

BY ROBERT HANCOCK

The rosewood dining table, sideboard, and many other furnishings in the formal dining room of the Confederate Executive Mansion are originals, and the upholstery and heavy brocade drapes are exact reproductions right down to the hand-tied tassels. This allowed for an accurate restoration of that important social space which Jefferson Davis’s wife, Varina, referred to as the “State Dining Room.” Representing and describing accurately the repasts that were served there has proven a more difficult challenge.

Hard evidence of food preparation and dining in the Confederate Executive Mansion is sparse to say the least; we don’t even know the cook’s name, race, or status. A couple of mentions of a fete or open house is about all we have. However, those few mentions (notably in the diaries of Mary Chesnut), along with prescribed notions of how upper-class families took their meals and entertained in the mid-19th century, can give us insights into the eating and drinking habits inside the house during the war.

Alabama senator and Davis family friend Clement Clay described one informal meal taken en famille with the president as consisting of beef soup (probably a consommé), beef stew, meat pie, potatoes, coffee, and bread. A meal that impressed Clay’s sense of frugality and Jefferson Davis’s tastes.

Davis was not a gourmet or, in today’s parlance, a foodie. Apparently, he did not concern himself overly much about food, preferring basic fare prepared simply. While Davis was a meat and potatoes kind of guy, Varina, on the other hand, was more of your foie gras and haricot vert kind of person. She enjoyed good food and liked to entertain in high style. She had quite a reputation among the politicians and socialites in Washington, D.C. while they resided there before the war when Davis was a U.S. senator.

Dining Room Table Laid for Service á la Française. The dining room on the first floor was reserved for more formal occasions. Generally, the Davises took their meals in the family dining room located in the southwest corner of the basement. The rosewood and maple dining table was made by the Richmond furniture-making firm of Belvin & Atkinson.

Penelope Carrington, ACWM

During the war years, Varina sometimes invited guests to the house for a mid-day repast. One of her “luncheons to ladies” consisted of gumbo, duck with olives, supréme de volaille (chicken in white wine sauce), chicken in jelly (a savory terrine of chicken, spices, and gelatin— similar to head cheese), oysters, lettuce salad, chocolate cream cake, claret cup (generally consisting of Bordeaux wine fortified with a little brandy or sherry mixed with sugar, lemon, and finished with sparkling water), and champagne. This little meal took place in January of 1864. So much for the privations of war. All this food, of course, had to be prepared. Varina might come up with the menu, but she wasn’t going to do the cooking. Meals were prepared by a cook, with the assistance of at least one under-cook or kitchen maid, in a two-story brick kitchen located to the east of the main house. The food was brought to the house in warming trays through a basement door, and final preparations were made in the butler’s pantry. If the food was not taken immediately to the table, there was a large fireplace, also located in the basement, to keep the food warm.

The dining room (photo above) is set in service á la française, or French service, for six persons based on an 1859 article from Godey’s Lady’s Book and other sources. In a French service, all the dishes are prepared and set on the table at the beginning of the meal (except for dessert which was served after the table was cleared). Today we would call this type of setup “family style.” Think Thanksgiving and you get the idea.

Typically, the host and hostess carved the meats and served the soups, respectively. Etiquette dictated that these tasks be performed sitting down, not standing over the roast sawing away at it like a carpenter. If the host was not adept at carving, then a qualified guest would be asked to do the honor. The footmen waiting table cleared away empty dishes, made sure the wine and water decanters were kept full, and brought any additional food to the table. Once the main meal was completed, the table was cleared for dessert. If a different wine were to be served during the dessert course, the footmen would bring the decanter and glasses to the table. The meal ended with coffee or tea served either at the table or in the parlor.

In contrast, service á la russe, supposedly introduced to the French court by a Russian diplomat in the early 19th century, was just beginning to catch on by the time of the Civil War, primarily in the big cities in the northeast. In service á la russe, footmen brought each separate course to the table and served it to the individual diners. This cleared the table of clutter, leaving more room for superfluous decoration. It also freed the host and hostess of much responsibility, letting them concentrate on keeping the conversation going, and allowed each course to arrive hot straight from the kitchen or warming oven.

Service á la russe reached its height in the late 19th century and is still the preferred service for formal occasions, but at the time of the Civil War, many rebelled against this new-fangled way of dining. One gentleman wrote that having the servants constantly hovering around serving food and clearing dishes interrupted conversation. Besides, he liked to see everything that was to be served all all at once so he could decide of which dishes he would like to partake.

This tin-lined cellarette was used to keep wine or other drinks cool.

ACWM

One of a set of demitasse cups used by the Davises while at the Executive Mansion.

ACWM

In a French service, once the soup or consume was ladled and passed, the host or a skilled guest carved the meats, placing the slice upon a plate held by a table servant and laid before the guest who had requested it. Hosts and guests alike would help dish out the other food. The first course finished, the servants removed all dishes and the tablecloth, if more than one was being used, and brought on the second course. As with the first course, upon completion of the second course, the table was again cleared and the desserts served on a bare table.

And speaking of servants, those who waited table in the Davis executive mansion over the years were all enslaved, either owned by the Davises or hired out from a local owner. One of those servants was James Pemberton who, after seizing his freedom in 1864, ended up in Washington. In addition to commenting on military and political problems faced by Jefferson Davis, the New York Herald reported:

“One turkey serves the imperial household of his master at Richmond for three days — the first day as a roast, the second day cold, and the third day as a hash, warmed over again; and he further says that Mrs. Davis sighs and pines all the time over the lost pleasures of those good old days in Washington.”

In the “good old days,” a typical dinner in an upper-class home started with at least five different dishes and was followed by a second course of five more dishes. Each course could consist of soup or consume, beef or pork, seafood (fish or oysters), and fowl with accompanying vegetables. The dessert course had the same number of dishes as the second course and that was in turn followed by a second dessert of fruit, both fresh and preserved, cheese, and nuts. All of it washed down with several wines, Madeira or Port, tea or coffee.

We do not know whether Varina preferred French service or adopted the new service á la russe, but I suspect the former. Varina has always struck me as someone who liked to retain control over any proceedings and probably preferred to serve her guests, herself, than defer to a servant. There is no record of President Davis’s skill at carving.

Robert Hancock is the Museum’s senior curator and director of collections and a self-acknowledged “foodie.”