Obituary of Thomas Edward Davis, 1917 - Orleans Parish, LA, Bedford Co. VA


Thomas Edward Davis, Orleans Parish, LA


Source: The Times-Picayune, Wednesday, Feb. 21, 1917, New Orleans, LA

          MAJOR DAVIS LAID TO REST AFTER USEFUL CAREER
     Journalist and Soldier Is Mourned by Many in This City

     Major Thomas Edward Davis, soldier and gentleman in war and peace, and for
many years a leader in Southern journalism, was laid to rest on Carnival day.
Because of the revelry abroad, the funeral was arranged to be a strictly
private event, but those who knew him best left the gayety about them to pay
loving tribute at the grave.
     Major Davis was more than 81 years of age, having been born at Bedford,
Va., on September 25, 1835. He was the descendant of a Welsh family which
settled in the Old Dominion long before the American Revolution and played a
prominent part in the affairs of the state and nation, besides being noted for
longevity. His parents were Judge Micajah Davis and Ellen Phillips, and his
father was at first sheriff of Bedford county and then the district judge
continuing to preside until his death, long past his 80th  year. Major Davis was
educated in the best schools and acquired an extraordinary amount of knowledge,
it being justifiable to say of him that he was one of the best posted men of
his day.
     Mind and memory both were extraordinarily gifted in the tendency to grasp
and retain information, and their quest was tireless. He was graduated in the
academic course at the University of Virginia in 1858, but that was only a sort
of first term, for he next studied law, engineering and medicine and would have
mastered theology but for the breaking out of the war between the states.  He
was among the very first to volunteer, riding forth with the Twenty-first
Virginia cavalry as adjutant and major, and taking part in the earliest battles
with the dash of the born soldier.
     Some time after that the state organized her own troops into what was
known as the Virginia line, mainly to attach West Virginia to the Confederacy.
General Lloyd was one of the principal commanders, and he selected the major as
his adjutant. The Virginians were never out of the action, but, after
performing the special mission intended, the separate identity was abandoned
and Major Davis was without a regiment.  He and others set to work and
organized another cavalry command, and in that he was again the adjutant. He
fought with Lee’s army to the last shot and did not even surrender at
Appomatox, for the regiment broke through the line while the fateful ceremony
was going on and made its way to Lynchburg.  There it found that the war was
really over, and the impetuous members disbanded. Although all afterwards
became loyal citizens of the United States, a number rebelled in the verdict of
battle then.  Major Davis was among these, and in company with other,
adventurous spirits, he abandoned home and sought fortune in the West, dreaming
that there they would find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
                            TRIP TO WEST
     The democratic and daring band made its way from St. Louis, going by boat,
and encountering may strange and stirring experiences before they stowed their
[kits?] in Montana.  They found plenty of excitement and lived rough romance
for five years. They were not equipped for any big “strike,” but their toll
brought its share of reward and the major had considerable capital when he
decided to return to “civilization” and embark upon a mercantile career.  His
forte was not commerce, but he did not know it then.  Before setting out for
the unknown West, he served a brief employment in the store of a brother of
Edward J. Gay, at St. Louis, and it was there that he formed the idea that
there was a special opportunity for him in the wholesale tobacco trade.  He
acted upon that conviction and invested his capital in that business, settling
in Galveston.  He prospered at first, became a factor in the life of the Texas
city, and was a leader in its most exclusive society.
     It was there that he met, wooed and wed Miss Mollie Evelyn Moore, the
daughter of an ardent Confederate family of Comanche, who already gave promise
of the exquisite literary talent which later put her among the most famous
writers of the South. Along came the financial panic of 1875 and down went the
tobacco business.  He could not collect the large sums due him in the central
and other markets, and insisted upon paying every debt of his own at any
sacrifice.  The result of such a business code is easy to figure.
     Some friends completed the wreck by inducing him to attempt recouping his
losses by cotton speculation.  The only salvation in the situation was the
discovery of his bent towards journalism.  He obtained aid in founding the
Houston Telegram in 1876, made it a newspaper of literary merit, news value,
and potent public service, and realized all his ideas except dividends.  But he
had learned the same and was equipped to adopt the career.
                      BRILLIANT JOURNALISTIC CAREER
    New Orleans offered the larger field, so he came here as one of the
editorial writers on the old Times.  In an endeavor to revolutionize that
periodical into a vehicle of more popular and prosperous appeal, he was
transferred to the city editor’s desk, and the result was brilliant.  The
Democrat acquired the Times; the former had its own staff, and Major Davis was
without a position.  The Picayune gladly engaged him, in 1879, though he was
compelled to start all over again, this time as a reporter.  He was a writer of
rare charm and clearness, a good news gatherer, and he made his work stand out.
 Some of the finest contributions of the kind were the articles he wrote during
the Cotton Centennial Exposition.  His ability led to early promotion to the
editorial staff, and when Col. C. Harrison Parker became tax collector, Major
Davis succeeded him as editor-in-chief, retaining that post for over a quarter
of a century, ending his active career a few months before the consolidation of
the Picayune with The Times-Democrat.  Besides being forceful, he was fearless;
besides being dignified, he was broadly human, his view was impartial and
independent, his aim constructive and his courtesy and tolerance unfailing.  He
deserved the reputation he achieved, and was a credit to his profession and his
section.
     The schedule he set for himself demanded long hours of labor, and he
granted himself scant recreation or vacation.  Outside of his desk, his heart
was in his home.  He was the knightliest of lovers, the most devoted of
husbands.  His wife, whose strength was mostly of spirit, and of will, needed
such sustaining tenderness as his, and it never failed her.  She threw a
glamour around the old house on Royal street, which was the headquarters of
Andrew Jackson in the city proper, and her sweetness, her sympathy and her
genius were an irresistible magnet which drew about her the best of thought and
taste, whether resident or visiting. The place assumed the glory of a salon,
such as is part of the charm of France; but to him it had the sacredness of a
shrine.  When his distinguished wife passed away, he kept the home intact,
though he lived alone in its spaciousness, and even love refrained from
interfering with his isolation until his occupation was also gone and his
loneliness was complete.  Mrs. Paul F. Jahncke, his daughter, then enforced her
long-standing plea and installed him in her lovely home in Audubon Place, where
he spent his last years in comfort and where he fell into his last sleep on
Monday night.
                     CONTINUES LIFETIME HABITS
     The new surroundings did not cause him to forget the old.  Despite
his years, he was straight as an arrow and as active as the dart in
flight.  Daily and systematically he made his pilgrimage to the old
office and the old home.  He walked the path of habit without [a/any?]
change, partaking of his noonday coffee at the same restaurant table,
calling at the same haunts and greeting the same friends.  After his
pathetic parade of habit, he returned to his new home, and was happy
with the family which was full partner in his love.  So it might have
been for many more years, for the brave soul never faltered.  But two
lows came almost simultaneously, and they bore him down.  A brother
died suddenly, and while he was still dazed from the shock, his dearest
and most intimate friend was taken by death.  He and Col. E. M. Hudson
had been mates in college and in camp; their comradeship became even
closer in their manhood.  The spent many evenings together, were never
long apart, and  age only made them more necessary to each other.
     The death of Col. Hudson seemed to be the final realization that the world
in which  he had outlived so many of his fellows had ceased to exist.  He
became ill, he was ministered to and he was grateful for the care bestowed, but
the specter swordsman from the shadows was no longer fought as foe.
     Because it was not desired to intrude grief upon the Carnival spirit,
there was barely announcement made of the death of a man who did so much for
his time and people, and whom the people would have deemed it a duty to honor.
 Even the hour was the funeral was not published.  Nevertheless, a number
gathered at the Jahncke residence on Tuesday afternoon, and the bier was banked
with flowers.  Rev. A. E.  Edbrooke of Grace Episcopal Church, of which Major
Davis was a practical member, read the impressive ritual and the body was then
born to Metairie Cemetery, where it will repose beside that of his wife.
     Prof. J. W. Caldwell draped the coffin with the historic flag of the Army
of Northern Virginia, of which camp Major Davis was a member with the permanent
assignment of responding to the toast to the press at the annual banquets.  The
only other organizations with which he affiliated were the Round Table and the
Pickwick clubs.  Dr. Caldwell was also one of the pall bearers, the others
being M. Leigh Alexander, William Reer, T. P. Thompson, C. B. Modinger and
George Nicholson.



Submitted by Anne Lieberman <annelieberman@yahoo.com>

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