Home Page
Louisiana Anthology

NOTES TO NEXT GROUP

Change the name and title to match your assignment

Leonidas Polk, Bishop and General
“Posson Jone.”

Notes to next group

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF FRANCES DEVEREUX POLK THE WIFE OF LEONIDAS POLK

PREFACE.

The author expresses here his indebtedness to the Rev. John Fulton, D.D., for the invaluable aid rendered by him in the preparation of this book. Dr. Fulton's close association with Bishop Polk as Assistant Rector and Rector of Trinity Church, New Orleans, during the period covered by Chapters VI. and VII. of Volume I. has enabled him to write more fully and correctly of the events of that period than was possible to any one else. These chapters are therefore presented, practically, as he wrote them.

The page headings, chapter headings, and index are the work of Mr. E. E. Treffry. The completeness with which he has performed this task will be best appreciated by those engaged in biographical and historical research.

part0001

Chapter I.

Ancestry. — Thomas Polk of Mecklenburg. — Under Washington. — With Gates and Greence. — William Polk. — Germantown. — With Sumter, Marion, and Henderson. — Eutaw Springs. 1

CHAPTER II.

West Point. — General Gaines, General Scott, Colonel Thayer, Dr. McIlvaine, Sidney Johnston. — Class Standing. — Graduation. — Travels Through New England and Canada. 45

CHAPTER III.

Enters the Ministry. — Theological Seminary, Alexandria. — Ordination. — Assistant to Bishop Moore, Richmond, VA. — Travels Through Europe. 87

CHAPTER IV.

Priest to the Plantation Parish. — Missionary Bishop of the Southwest. — Work in Arkansas, Indian Territory, Republic of Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. — The Negro as a Part of his Charge. 127

CHAPTER V.

The Sugar Plantation. — Scenes From the Plantation Home. — Mrs. Polk. — The Slave and His Master. — The Cholera Epidemic. 153

CHAPTER VI.

The Negro, the Problem at the South. — How to Meet it. — Educate the People. — The Equality of the South in the Union of the States. — "The University of the South will do Much to Compose and Reconcile National Feeling." 191

CHAPTER VII.

Secession of Louisiana. — Action of the Dioceses. — The Church in the Confederate States. — Bishop Polk's Attitude. 262

CHAPTER VIII.

Enters the Confederate Army. — The Manner of Doing it. — How the Act was Received. — A Temporary Service. — Efforts to Resign. 314

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Lieutenant-Colonel William Polk. Frontispiece

St. John's Church. To face page 151

Leonidas Polk (Missionary Bishop of the Southwest)

To face page 170

University of the South. To follow page 200

CHAPTER I.

THE FOREFATHERS OF LEONIDAS POLK. 1620 TO 1826.

Settlement of John Pollock of Lanarkshire, Scotland, in the north of Ireland. — His son, Robert Pollock, serves under Cromwell; emigrates to the Eastern Shore of Maryland. — Change of the name of Pollock to Polk. — William, grandson of Robert Polk, removes to Carlisle, Pennsylvania. — His son Thomas removes to Mecklenburg County, North Carolina; a Member of the Provincial Assembly in 1762 and 1771; leader of the opposition to British aggression. — General temper of the Colonies. — The revolutionary spirit in North Carolina. — The Mecklenburg Declaration; Thomas Polk's part therein; appointed Colonel of Continentals; serves with Washington at Brandywine and Valley Forge; convoys the "Liberty Bell" to Bethlehem; Commissary-General under Gates; appointed Brigadier-General by Greene; why the appointment was not confirmed; death of Colonel Polk in 1793. — Mr. Lossing's error in his "Field-Book of the Revolution." — The error handsomely acknowledged. — Birth of William Polk, July, 1758; Major to the Continental Army at the age of eighteen; engaged at Brandywine; frightfully wounded at Germantown; Valley Forge; present at the defeat at Camden; serves with Davidson; following the fortunes of Sumter and Marion; battle of Eutaw Springs. — Colonel William Polk's career after the war; Member of the General Assembly of North Carolina; U. S. Supervisor of Revenue for North Carolina; President of the State Bank; appointed Brigadier-General of the Army of the United States; declines the appointment; Commissioner to receive the Marquis de Lafayette; his death in 1834.

Before we attempt to sketch the career or to estimate the character of Leonidas Polk it will be of some advantage to recall some incidents in the story of the adventurous race of pioneers from which he was descended. The origin of the family is obscure. An old tradition of the derivation of the family name in its original form of Pollock is too clearly apocryphal to be worth repeating. A whimsical tale of the exploit which led to the adoption of the arms of the Pollocks is not more trustworthy, but the device of a wild boar pierced with an arrow, and the motto, Audaciter et Strenue, "Boldly and Stoutly," must evidently have been suggested by some feat of daring in which courage and strength were both exhibited.

The branch of the Pollock family from which Leonidas Polk traced his descent was represented in the reign of James, Sixth of Scotland and First of England, by John Pollock, a gentleman of some estate in Lanarkshire, not far from what was then the small but important cathedral city of Glasgow. Those were troublous times in Church and State, and John Pollock, who was an uncompromising Presbyterian, left his native land to join the new colony of Protestants which had been established in the north of Ireland. It was a hazardous adventure; for although the last of the numerous petty kings of Ireland had professedly submitted to the English arms at the beginning of King James's reign, the Irish people cherished a vindictive hatred of their conquerors, and while the king's writ ran throughout the length and breadth of the island, the Scotch and English colonists were often compelled to maintain peace by drawing and using their good swords. Little more is now known of John Pollock than that he lived to a good age, and that he had a son of true-blue Presbyterian principles and of a strenuous temper like his own.

Robert Pollock, a son of John Pollock, served as a subaltern officer in the regiment of Colonel Tasker in tho Parliamentary army against Charles I., and took an active part in the campaigns of Cromwell. He married Magdalen Tasker, who was the widow of his friend and companion in arms, Colonel Porter, and one of the two daughters of Colonel Tasker, then Chancellor of Ireland, of Bloomfield Castle, on the river Dale. By this marriage Pollock acquired the estate of "Moning" or "Moneen" Hill, in the barony of Ross, county of Donegal, Ireland, of which his wife was heiress. Her elder sister, Barbara, who was born in 1640, married Captain John Keys, an English soldier, and their descendants still own Bloomfield Castle. On the death of Cromwell and the accession of the second Charles, Robert Pollock resolved to emigrate with his wife and family to the American plantations. In 1659 he took ship at Londonderry, and after a stormy voyage, during which one of his children died, he landed on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, in the province of which Lord Baltimore was "Sovereign Lord and Proprietary." Soon after his emigration the surname of Pollock began to be written Polk, and it appears in that form in the will of his widow, Magdalen Polk. Grants of land on the Eastern Shore were made to Robert Pollock, or Polk, and to his sons; and a homestead patented under the name of Polk's Folly is still in the possession of the family. In comparison with other changes in the surnames of settlers in the American plantations, this change was slight. Thus, in one well-authenticated instance, Beauclerc was transformed to Butler, and two families now bearing the names of Noyes and Delano are known to be descended from a common ancestor whose surname was De la Noye. Polk's Folly lies south of Fauquier Sound, opposite the mouths of the Nanticoke and Wicomico rivers. The old clock which was brought from Ireland by Robert Pollock still stands in the hall of the dwelling-house, and his mahogany liquor-case is still preserved among the family relics.1

John Polk, the eldest son of Robert Pollock and Magdalen Tasker, married Joanna Knox. Two children, William and Nancy, were born of this marriage. William married Priscilla Roberts, and afterward removed to Carlisle, Penn., where his fourth son, Thomas Polk, grandfather of the subject of this memoir, was born.

Following the example of John Pollock, the Scottish colonist of Ireland, of Robert Pollock, the Cromwellian soldier who emigrated from Ireland to Maryland, and of his father, William Polk, who removed from the province of Maryland to the province of Pennsylvania, Thomas Polk set out in 1753 to seek his fortune in a new field. In company with his two brothers, Ezekiel and Charles, he traveled through Maryland and Virginia, skirted the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge, crossed the Dan and Yadkin rivers, and finally settled in Mecklenburg County, in the western part of the province of North Carolina. For his homestead he selected lands on Sugar Creek, a branch of the Catawba River, in a neighborhood where not a few pioneers had already made their clearings. Most of them were emigrants from Great Britain who had spent a few years on the banks of the Delaware before going to North Carolina: and among the sturdy colonists of Mecklenburg County the Scotch-Irish stock, from which Polk himself had sprung, was largely represented. In 1755 he married Susan Spratt, the daughter of a farmer who had removed from Pennsylvania in the same year in which Polk had left.

1 Among the descendants of Robert Polk were Charles Polk, Governor of Delaware, Trusten Polk, Governor of Missouri and United States Senator, and James K. Polk, Speaker of the House of Representatives and President of the United States.

Carlisle, and it seems likely enough that the bright eyes of the farmer's daughter, as well as the prospect of rich lands in the Sugar Creek bottoms, had cheered the young emigrant in his long and difficult journey. By industry and enterprise he soon acquired a large tract of land and a sufficient fortune to enable him to rear and educate the nine children born of this marriage in the simple but liberal style of a colonial gentleman. His personal qualities made him a leader in the settlement, and in 1769 he was chosen a member of the Provincial Assembly of North Carolina. Under his patronage an academy for the education of youth was established near his residence, and he procured the passage by the Assembly of an act to establish "Queen's College" in the town of Charlotte, thus securing to young men in the western part of the province the opportunity of a more advanced education than is usual in newly settled regions. "Queen's College," though disallowed by the Crown, prospered until the Revolution, when the British troops took possession of the town and burned the buildings. The devotion of its students to the cause of American independence gained for it the name of "the Southern Cradle of Liberty."

In 1771 Thomas Polk was again a member of the Provincial Assembly, he and Abram Alexander representing the county of Mecklenburg in the Lower House, and Josiah Martin being governor of the province. He took a leading part in all the patriotic movements by which the colonists endeavored to withstand the aggressions of the mother-country; and Joseph Seawell Jones, in his " Defense of the Revolutionary History of North Carolina," declares that Thomas Polk was the first to maintain the necessity of dissolving the political ties which bound the colonies to Great Britain. His feelings and opinions were decided; his expression of them was frank and courageous; and Mr. Jones adds that "out of these feelings and opinions grew the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence," in the framing of which Thomas Polk was the leading spirit.1

In his early zeal for American independence, Polk was in advance of most men of the Southern colonies. The prevailing sentiment in Virginia, in the Carolinas, and, indeed, in all the colonies south of New York, differed materially from that of the people of New England. In New York the public sentiment, like the population, was mixed; in New Jersey and Philadelphia the revolutionary spirit, even after 1776, was much more fervent in a few conspicuous individuals than among the mass of the people. In a broad way Virginia and New England represented two distinct traditional tendencies. New England looked back to the Commonwealth as the glorious period of English history; Virginia had sent her homage to the exiled Charles II. and had heartily hated the "Crop-Ears." The colonists of both demanded their rights as Britons, but their principles and prepossessions were widely different in many respects, and it will always be a cause of wonder that the most shortsighted of ministries should not have attempted to make terms with the one section in order more effectually to turn its arms against the other.

The colonists in general entered upon the struggle with the king and his ministers with no purpose of severing the ties which bound them to the mother-countiy, but solely, as they constantly and openly declared, to obtain their constitutional rights as Britons. Their aim, indeed, was rather to draw the bonds of union with Great Britain closer than to form an independent nation. This desire was so general, and the name of Briton was so highly prized, especially by the well-descended colonists, that they were galled at every indication of a political difference between themselves and their fellow-snbjects at home. Certain it is, that, until the British Government had explicitly and haughtily refused to acknowledge what the American colonists held to be their constitutional rights, and until a senseless course of petty but high-handed oppression had alienated their affections, no more loyal subjects bore the name of Briton than the people of the American colonies. Thus far there had been little immigration from the Continental countries of Europe. With few exceptions the colonists had come from the British islands. They had inherited the rights, and they understood the principles, of constitutional liberty. When their sovereign denied those rights and trampled on their liberty as though they were not Britons, then, and only then, reluctantly but resolutely, they drew their swords to vindicate their birthright. War once begun, the old love turned to hate, and, before the struggle closed, the very name of Briton, which they had once prized, had become a synonym of all that was tyrannous and detestable.

1 It must be admitted that the violent prejudice and the exaggerated style of this writer have seriously affected his credit as a historian ; yet his statements of the facts are generally trustworthy. In the matter here under consideration they are amply coiitlrmed by othur evidence.

The people of North Carolina, however, and especially the people of Mecklenburg County, did not share the general sentiment of loyalty which in the earlier stages of the quarrel pervaded the other colonies south of New England. In his centennial address on the Mecklenburg Declaration, Governor William A. Graham says, with much truth, that from the outset the leading spirits in that province were eager for revolution. They detested the institution of monarchy, and they were unalterably convinced that if the colonies were to be truly free they must renounce their allegiance to the Crown. Thus, while others were vainly striving to devise expedients to avert a war into which they were blindly drifting, Thomas Polk was preparing the stern and not easily governed people of his neighborhood for the clash of arms he saw to be inevitable.

The colonists of North Carolina had always been intolerant and resentful of interference in their affairs. As early as 1751 Governor Burrington complained: "They have always behaved insolently to their governors. Some they have driven out of the country; at other times they have set up a government of their own choice, supported by men under arms." It was Cornwallis's uucomfortable fortune during his invasion of North Carolina to have his headquarters in Charlotte, the county seat of that "heady, high-minded" county of Mecklenburg, which he soon, and with very good reason, pronounced to be the "hornets' nest of North Carolina."1 Whatever hope there might have been of bringing the hornets in this nest to live peaceably with the representatives of British authority, was shattered by the guns of Lexington. Even the loyalists of New York, who were planning to bring about a better understanding between the colonies and the Crown, then felt that almost the last hope of reconciliation had vanished. To the impetuous Mecklenburgers the report of the battle of Lexington was a proclamation of the dissolution of the union of the colonies with Great Britain.

1 Colonel Tarleton. in his "Memoirs," p. 159, says: "It was evident, and bad frequently been mentioned to the king's ofl&cers, that the counties of Mecklenburg and Rohan were more hostile to England tlian any others in America."'

Colonel Thomas Polk was a born leader of men, and he was recognized as the master-spirit in the community in which he lived. From the beginning of colonial disturbances he had boldly advocated a policy of uncompromising resistance to the encroachments of the British ministry. When the quarrel in Massachusetts broke out into active hostilities, he was chosen, in his capacity as colonel of the county, to call a meeting of citizens at the county seat; and it was there, on May 20, 1775, that, in presence of representative men of the district, he read the paper known as the Mecklenburg Declaration,1 proclaiming the freedom of Mecklenburg from the control of Great Britain. This was a year before the signing of the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia.

News traveled slowly in those days. From the Revolution down to the summer of 1820, but one newspaper was published in North Carolina west of Raleigh. The Continental Congress, then sitting in Philadelphia, was not ready to take official notice of so bold an act as the Mecklenburg Declaration, set forth, as it had been, by a handful of militia-men in a remote corner of the American settlements. Indeed, had the members of the Congress been unanimously in favor of independence, as at that time they certainly were not, it was manifestly expedient, until concert of action could be assured, rather to curb and ignore than to encourage radical proceedings.2 Hence, it is not surprising that outside the county in which it originated the Mecklenburg Declaration was hardly known until forty years had passed away. It by no means follows, however, that the Declaration was not actually read at the time mentioned. Those who doubt its authenticity admit that, eleven days after its promulgation on May 20, 1775, the men of Mecklenburg, at a formal meeting called by Thomas Polk, adopted sundry radically revolutionary resolutions.1 Yet it appears that, more than forty years later, neither Thomas Jefferson nor John Adams had ever even heard of these resolutions of May 31st. The British were better informed ; for, on the 30th of July in this same year (1775), Governor Martin wrote to the Colonial Secretary in London, that "the resolves of the Committee of Mecklenburg-, which your lordship will find in the enclosed newspaper, surpass all the horrid and treasonable publications the inflammatory spirits of this continent have yet produced." Again, on the 8th of August, when aboard the government cruiser, Governor Martin issued a proclamation beginning with these words:

1 See Appendix to Chapter I.

2 See Appendix to Chapter I. — John Adams's Letter.

Whereas, I have seen a most infamous publication in the Cape Fear Mercury, importing to be resolves of a set of people styling themselves a Committee of the County of Mecklenburg, most traitorously declaring the entire dissolution of the laws, government, and constitution of this country, and setting up a system of rule and regulation repugnant to the laws and subversive of His Majesty's Government.

Now, the perturbed and somewhat hysterical state of mind into which the governor was thrown by the doings of the men of Mecklenburg sufficiently proves that the revolutionary spirit was active and aggressive among them in this month of May, 1775. The added testimony of those who stood within the sound of Thomas Polk's voice on May 20th ought to set at rest all questions of the genuineness of the resolutions of that date.2

Besides his connection with the Mecklenburg Declaration, Colonel Polk was actively engaged in the public measures of his district which had been rendered necessary by the revolt against the Crown. He was a member of the committee which on August 24, 1775, prepared a plan for securing the internal peace and safety of the province. A few months later he was appointed colonel of the second of two battalions of minute-men which were raised in the district of Salisbury under a resolution of the Council of the Province, and it was not long before he was called into the field. The Tories of South Carolina, encouraged by Sir William Campbell, the last of the royal governors of that colony, had enrolled themselves under Fletcher, Cunningham, and other leaders, and, attacking the forces under Colonel Williamson at Cambridge and at Ninety-Six, had compelled him to capitulate. In this emergency the Council of Safety ordered out General Richardson's brigade and Colonel William Thompson's regiment of rangers, and called upon the Whigs of North Carolina to aid them in crushing the Royalists. The North Carolinians promptly responded: nine hundred men, under Colonels Polk, Rutherford, Martin, and Graham, marched into South Carolina, and in a severe engagement defeated the Royalists.

1 See Bancroft's "History of the United States," 1886, vol. iv. p. 19C.

2 See Appendix to Chapter I.

By the Provincial Congress, which met at Halifax on April 4, 1776, the State was placed on a war footing and the militia was regularly organized. With Thomas Polk as colonel and William Davidson as major, the 4th Regiment of Continental troops raised under this enactment marched, with other forces under Brigadier-General Nash, to join the Army of the North under Washington. Thomas Polk remained for three years under Washington's direct command, and participated in the battle of Brandywine and the hardships of Valley Forge. He was not present, however, at the battle of Germantown, being at that time in command of the escort detailed to guard and convoy the heavy baggage of the army (some seven hundred wagons) to a place of safety at Bethlehem, Penn. Among the impediments of the train were the bells of Philadelphia, including the famous "Liberty Bell."

In November, 1779, the North Carolina troops were sent to reinforce the southern army, under the command of General Lincoln,1 and, excepting Polk's regiment, were included in the garrison at Charleston.

After the fall of the capital of South Carolina in May, 1780, the organization of an army for the general defense of the southern States was entrusted by Congress to General Gates. As in all armies, so especially in this, the most pressing want was an efficient commissariat. During his ill-judged and ill-timed march through a barren country to Camden, where he more than sufficiently tested the ability of his men to march and to fight without food, Gates sought out Thomas Polk, and, through Thomas Pinckney, the aide of Baron de Kalb, offered him, August 3d, the double position of Commissary-General for the State and Commissary of Purchase for the army.2 This offer Polk accepted, but almost before the ink was dry upon his letter of acceptance Gates arrived at Charlotte in hot haste from the field of Camden, and without so much as a corporal's guard. Charlotte was a point of some strategic importance. It was the center of one of the best provisioned districts of the country, and the people were generally loyal to the colonists. It was natural, therefore, to suppose that the general would halt there, and endeavor to organize at least a show of resistance to the enemy. Such a course would have strengthened the Continental cause, and would certainly have increased the influence of dates; but with scarcely more than a moment's pause he abandoned Charlotte and hurried across the State to Hills-boro, where the seat of State government then was.

1 Extracts from 'Wheeler's Reminiscences of North Carolina."'from the archives at Raleigh and the Moravian Records at Bethlehem, Penn., relative to Thomas Polk's services in the Revolution, reach nearly to the period of Gates's administration of the Southern Department. Wheeler's statements concerning this later period are evidently incorrect. See the " Papers of Major-General Gates " in possession of the New York Historical Society, the " Papers of Major-General Greene " in possession of George W. Greene, of Rhode Island, and the collection of Dr. Thos. Addis Emmet. New York City.

2 "Gates Papers." Doc. 132, vol. xvii.

STOPPED HERE

The effect of the defeat at Camden was deplorable; and when the people of Charlotte saw the general who had been sent to them by Congress flying even before the enemy had approached, their dissatisfaction and disgust were loudly expressed. But their spirit was not broken, and even after the defeat and dispersion of Sumter's command, which occurred below Charlotte two days after the defeat at Camden, they were still resolute and ready to resume the conflict.

The confusion and distress at Charlotte in this critical juncture are well described in Ramsay's "History of South Carolina." The British were hourly expected. The proclamation fulminated by Cornwallis at Waxhaw on September 16th against the patriots of South Carolina, supported as it was by the well-known violence of his soldiery, convinced the people that they could assure their safety only by submission or flight, and among those who fled was the family of Thomas Polk. The men of Mecklenburg, supported by the militia from the counties of Rowan, Lincoln, Surrey, and Wilkes, prepared for a contest with Lord Cornwallis's well-appointed army of regulars.

On September 26th Cornwallis entered Charlotte, and made his headquarters at the White House, as Colonel Polk's dwelling, the only painted edifice in the town, was called; and one of the first acts of the general was to seize and confiscate all of the property of his involuntary host that could be found. Polk, meanwhile, was actively engaged in securing supplies for the American army, often by the pledge of his own credit. It was no easy task, but he lost neither faith nor courage; and at the first glimpse of good fortune — King's Mountain — he wrote as follows to the Board of War:

Camp, Yadkin River, October 11, 1780. Gentlemen: I have the pleasure to inform you that on Saturday last the noted Colonel Ferguson with 150 men fell on King's Mountain; 800 taken prisoners, and 1500 stand of arms. Cleaveland and Campbell commanded. A glorious affair. In a few days we will be in Charlotte, and I will take possession of my house, and his lordship take the woods. I am, gentlemen, with respect,

Your humble servant,

Thos. Polk. To the Board of War, Hillsboro.

To his duties as commissary Thomas Polk voluntarily added those of recruiting officer. Riding from house to house throughout the counties of western North and South Carolina, he gathered provisions and preached a crusade against the British. No one in all that region did more to revive the drooping spirits of the Whig colonists, and no one sent so large a number of recruits, either to Sumter's command or to the regular forces serving with General Greene. His spirit is shown in a letter to General Greene, dated March 1, 1781, and written from Charlotte at the most trying period of the war in the South. Greene had been driven into Virginia; the Carolinas lay at the mercy of Cornwallis. Tarleton, and Rawdon; prominent men in both of the Carolinas had despaired of the success of the colonists, and were accepting protection, with all that the act involved, from the British authorities. It was then that Polk, reporting the state of affairs about Charlotte and the details of his own work, wrote:

I received yours of the 16th on Saturday the 24th, and am much distressed at your being- obliged to retreat as soon as you have. But it certainly is the salvation of our country for you not to run any risks with your army. For while you are safe the British cannot occupy nor possess any part of our country but what is inside of their sentries or lines.

General Greene wished to avail himself of Polk's services in the field, and on the death of General Davidson of the Salisbury district, who was killed at Cowan's Ford, the field-officers of the district having requested that Polk should be appointed to command them,1 Greene sent him a commission couched in words which bear full testimony to his confidence in the man:

Reposing special trust in your wisdom, patriotism, and valor, I do hereby appoint you, agreeable to the field-officers of Salisbury district, and by virtue of powers lodged in my hands for the time being, Brigadier-General of the said district and commanding officer of all the militia in the same.

In consideration of the claims of Colonel Locke, an officer of the district, this commission was not confirmed

1 A petition of the field-officers of the Disti-ict of Salisbury, now in service. To General Geeene.

Sir: We, the snhsoribers. considering the critical situation of our roiintry, and the difficulties our District have labored under for want of a commanding officer since the fall of General Davidson, do offer thi.s our humble petition that another be appointed in his room. And as we repose special confidence in Col. Thomas Polk, of Mecklenburg County,

by the Assembly,1 but General Greene continued to urge it upon them and upon Governor Nash, and afterward upon Governor Burke, who succeeded Nash. In reply to a letter from Greene, dated August 5,1781, requesting Polk's appointment, Governor Burke wrote as follows, under date of August 15:

I am sensible that the commandant of that district [Salisbury] is a very important office, and requires a character such as you describe, firm, active, having the art of compelling others to do their duty, and were I at liberty to make an appointment pursuant to my own judgment, I should not hesitate on choosing the gentleman you mention, believing him possessed of knowledge, experience, and industry beyond any officer I know in the district. But this is an affair that re-

as a gentleman qualified for such an important trust, it is our request that he be appointed to take the command of the above district.

Your compliance with this our request will lay under lasting obligations your humble petitioners,

Jos. Dickson, Col.

Jas. Martin, Col.

Jos. Williams. Lieut.-Col.

John Peasl? [These two names are incomplete, the MS. being torn.]

Camp Sheroes. March 5, 1781.

1 The militia of the Salisbury District, under General Davidson, had done excellent service, and General Greene had a right to expect that this service would be continued under Polk, and that he would join liim in the pursuit of CornwaUis after the battle of Guilford, all of which lie wrote Polk JIarch 22d. But the Assembly would not confirm the appointment as made by Greene, sending Polk instead that of " Colonel Commandant." Polk returned this commission to Governor Nash, having called his attention to the fact that it was proper he should have the same rank as his predecessor, especially as Davidson had been Lieutenant-Colonel in the regiment of the line of which he. Polk, had been Colonel. Pending the settlement of this question, Polk at first declined to act, but later, after an interview with General Greene, he assumed the duties of the position. Meanwliile, many of the men had joined Sumter's command (some l50 being in the 4th South Carolina, his son's regiment) and the others were widely scattered. By the middle of May.

quires to be attentively surveyed with the eye of wisdom and policy.1

Governor Burke's reason for not feeling himself at liberty to make the appointment is given in a letter to General Butler, dated August 15, 1781:

Sir: I have this morning received a letter from General Greene, dated on the High Hills of Santee, August 2d, and another on the 5th. In both he expresses great surprise and uneasiness that Colonel Locke has not marched the militia direct from Salisbury to reinforce the southern army. He very strenuously urges the necessity of the reinforcement for enabling him to oppose the enemy and check their operations, should they move up to establish posts of communication on the Congaree and the Wateree rivers, which plan he believes they have in contemplation. In the letter of the 5th he says that by intelligence from Charlotte he learns that the militia who were called out in Salisbury District have been disbanded over the road as low as the Waxhaw, and are now returning to their respective homes without any officer to collect and bring them on. He very plainly suggests a want of military competency in Colonel Locke, and his wish that Colonel Polk, whom he believes possessed of talents more useful for the

however, he succeeded in getting the command ready for field service, but he was then relieved. This fact he reports to General Greene in the following letter:

" Salisbury, May 15, 1781. " Sir: An express arrived at Salisbury the loth from Governor Nash, giving Colonel Locke the command, thei-efore my orders will be no more obeyed. I have been to all the counties but those over the mountains, Surrey and Gifford. the new arms and accoutrements will be nearly ready in about eight days. The ammunition in the wagons at this place must furnish the men. Anything in my power is at your call. "I am, sir, with great esteem,

"Your humble scr.,

" Thos. Polk. " To Major-General Greene."

1 "Letter Book," 1774-1781. Governor's Oflice. Raleigh, N. C.

present occasion, should be appointed to the command of the district. The superseding an officer of Colonel Locke's rank without inquiry or trial might prove an act from which might result very troublesome consequences; but to leave affairs of such importance, at such a crisis, under management which has hitherto been so unsuccessful, is entirely inadmissible. I must therefore, though very unwilling to put upon you an arduous or disagreeable service, or to spare your services from other important operations, request you, as soon as possible, to take the command of the whole force which has been called out for reinforcing the southern army, and to march them with all dispatch to join General Greene.

At last the tide of war receded to the low countries of South Carolina, and peace soon followed. The people of the scattered American colonies were left to form their new governments and repair the ravages of war. To these tasks Thomas Polk now turned with characteristic energy, but his later life offers few incidents of interest. The last historic notice of him is found in Elkanah Watson's "Men and Times of the Revolution." On page 259 he says: "I carried letters to the courteous General Polk, and remained two days at his residence in the delightful society of his charming family." He lived to an honored old age, surrounded by his sons, whom he had reared to an honorable and self-reliant manhood. He died at Charlotte in 1793, and was buried in the Presbyterian churchyard.

For fifty years the name of Thomas Polk remained, as he had left it, free from reproach. Then Mr. Lossing, when gathering material for his "Field-Book of the Revolution," visited Charlotte, and was told by a Mr. Caldwell that Thomas Polk had taken "protection" from Lord Cornwallis. This statement, if it had been true,

1 "Letter Book," 1774-1781. Governor's Office. Raleigh. N. C.

would imply that Polk had remained in Charlotte during its occupation by the British, and that he had made his submission and secured protection for his person and property. Finding among the "Gates Papers," in the New York Historical Society collection, a letter to the State Board of War, dated November 12, 1780, which intimated that Thomas Polk's conduct was considered suspicious, Mr. Lossing accepted it as a sufficient proof of Caldwell's statement, and published it as such.

Bishop Leonidas Polk, grandson of Thomas Polk, wrote Mr. Lossing of his mistake, and received in reply a prompt and courteous acknowledgment of the error. The correspondence is given below.

Bishop Polk to Mr. Lossing.

May 20, 1854.

Mr. B. J. Lossing :

Bear Sir: A friend yesterday called my attention to the following on page 625, 1st vol. of your "Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution," to wit: " Hundreds who were stanch patriots came forward and accepted protection from Cornwallis, for they saw no other alternative but that and the ruin of their families. Among them was Colonel Thomas Polk, who thereby incurred the suspicions of his countrymen," etc.

As a descendant of the individual here mentioned, you will, I presume, recognize my right to ask you to furnish me the evidence upon which you here state that Colonel Thomas Polk "took protection" from Cornwallis.

I observe what is said in the note upon the same page as to the order issued by Gates, and said to be found in the archives of the New York Historical Society, of the motives leading to which I have some knowledge, but you will perceive the insinuations contained in that order do not cover the ground occupied by your statements.

Your reply will oblige,

Respectfully, Leonidas Polk.

Mr. Lossing to Bishop Polk.

POUGHKEEPSIE, N. Y., June 12, 1854. Rt. Rev. Leonidas Polk :

My dear Sir: On my return home, after a short absence, I found your letter of the 20th May, forwarded to me by Messrs. Harper & Bros.

I had already received letters from North Carolina on the subject referred to in yours, in which are ample proofs that the inference in the paragraph alluded to is not warranted by real facts, however much it appears to be sustained by the order signed by Gates, Huger, Jones, and Butler. The verbal information which I received on the subject was given me by Greene W. Caldwell, Esq., the present superintendent of the branch mint at Charlotte, when I visited that town early in 1849. From information that I have since received from Governor Swain of Chapel Hill, Governor Graham, and two or three other citizens of Mecklenburg County, I am convinced that Mr. Caldwell was mistaken in the man, it being conceded that Colonel Ezekiel Polk 1 did take protection from Cornwallis, while Colonel Thomas Polk appears to have been made of sterner stuff. I felt thankful to those gentlemen, and I now feel grateful to you, for calling my attention to the evident error, for I am extremely anxious to have my work a faithful record in every particular, even the most minute, and I feel the obligation, above every other, to uphold in its lofty integrity the character of every true patriot during that struggle, for they are the great exemplars for those who are yet to fight the battles of freedom in the Old World.

I had already made the proper correction of the error and injustice, in preparing my work for a new edition, when the disastrous conflagration of Harper's establishment occurred.

1 "Taking protection." — which in Thomas Polk, an officer of the army, would have been desertion, — iu Ezekiel Polk, an old man and a non-cora-hatant, was simply the act of a private citizen, done to save a helpless family from ruin and want. Far less provocation had forced hundreds of the Lest patriots of South Carolina into a similar step. — Bancroft, vol. vi., p. 286-288.

Every sheet unsold was then consumed. They have now got their new buildings advanced far toward completion, and we hope, early in the autumn, to issue a new edition.

You mention that you possess a knowledge of the motives which led to the orders of Gates and others. Will you have the kindness to communicate them to me, as early as your convenience will permit after the receipt of this? The order alluded to I copied from the original with the signatures, now among the "Gates Papers" in the New York Historical Society collections.

I am a member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and therefore I may subscribe myself your brother in the bonds of Christian fellowship, and a friend.

With sentiments of highest regard,

Faithfully and truly,

Benson J. Lossing.1

William, the eldest son of Thomas and the father of Leonidas Polk, was born on the 9tli of Jnly, 1758, near the town of Charlotte, in the connty of Mecklenburg. At school, according to his own modest account, he showed no great aptitude for learning, but rather a disposition for mischief, which frequently led him into

1 Notwithstanding the explicitness of Mr. Lossing's retraction, it may be well to state the facts and to cite the documents bearing on the error into which he fell.

Among the "Gates Papers" in the New York Historical Society is one dated November 12, 1780, signed by Generals Gates, Huger. Butler, and Cadwalader Jones. In this paper, which is addressed to the North Carolina Board of War, they charge that the conduct of Colonel Polk is suspicious, and they recommend that he be ordered to Salisbury to answer for his condiict. No specifications accompany this charge, so that any one failing to look carefully thi-ough the " Gates Papers," and accepting Caldwell's statement as fact, might infer, as did Mr. Lossing, that the one bore upon the other. The denials of Governors Swain and Graham and of the citizens of Mecklenburg convinced Blr. Lossing that the charge did not relate to " taking protection," and the numerous letters to and from Thomas Polk dealing with the details of his duties as an officer of the army, to be found in the papers of Major-General Gates and Major-Gen.

childish trouble. At the age of fourteen he went to a grammar school, and was atfterward entered at Queen's College, where he remained until the beginning of hostilities between the colonies and Great Britain. The war fever of the coming Revolution early developed in him the military spirit which was hereditary in his family, and before he was quite seventeen he threw aside his books to take up the sword in the cause of the colonies. In April, 1775, — that is, in the month immediately preceding that in which his father read the Mecklenburg Declaration from the court-house steps, — and while still a student in college, William Polk was appointed a second lieutenant and was assigned to the 3d South Carolina Regiment nnder the command of Colonel William Thompson, better known by his sobriquet of "Old General Greene, together with the estimate placed upon the man hy Governor Burke and General Greene at the very close of the war, are conclusive evidences of Polk's unswerving devotion to the cause of the colonists. The specifications of the charge are easily found by looking into the letters of Smallwood and Gates, in the same collection as the charge, and hy refen-iug to the records of the State Board of War. in the library at Raleigh, N. C.

STOPPED HERE

Owing to the ravages, first of Comwallis, then of the militia that opposed him, around Charlotte, the entire country in that quarter of North and South Carolina was well-nigh stripped of provisions and forage. This is shown in Polk's correspondence with the Board of War, with Gates and with Greene (see Records at Raleigh, '• Gates Papers" and "Greene Papers"), and is more than emphasized in Greene's letters to Washington, to Knox, and to the Continental Congress (see Appendix to "Life of General Greene," by G. W. Greene). In consequence of this scarcity Polk could not find sufficient subsistence for the few regular ti-oops in that region, and much less for the militia, which was mainly concentrated at New Providence, under Smallwood, and at Salisburj', under Butler and -Jones.

In making a report of his condition to General Gates and to the State Board of War. Smallwood, on October 31st, wrote to Gates:

" Since my last, nothing material has occun-ed except a great scarcity of provisions. Colonel Polk has not even suppUed the regular troops; our principal subsistence has been brought in by detachments, which they took from the disaffected who have gone over to the enemy, and I li.ave

Colonel Danger." The second company, to which young Polk belonged, was composed of North Carolinians and ►South Carolinians in nearly equal numbers. Less than a month after the officers had received their commissions it was recruited to its full strength, and, with another company of the same regiment, was at once ordered to Ninety-Six to keep the Tories of that neighborhood in check. In Jmie these two companies were sent to Dorchester, twenty miles from Charleston, and in August, 1775, they were ordered to join the regiment at Grranby on the Congaree River. Theii* duty there was to w^atch and keep down the Loyahsts living in the Orangeburg District and near the Broad and Saluda rivers. Lieutenant Polk, who had become a favorite with " Old Danger," Avas given connnand of several expeditions, in one of

now not less than two hundred men employed on that duty, which is the only prospect of supplying the troops till the late Provision Act for collecting a specific tax in provision is more effectually earned into execution, which I fear at last will not afford an ample supply, in addition to what purchases can be made."' — " Gates Papers," Doc. 198.

To the Board he wrote more specifically:

" Colonel Polk refuses to supply any but the regular troops, and is unwilling to be concerned under the Act for levying the specific provision tax unless he has the appointment of the commissioners with whom he is to be connected, urging that those appointed under the Act are incompetent to the task, and that there will be great difficulty in settling their accounts, which may eventually involve him." — "Gates Papers," Doc. 198.

This information reached Gates on his march to Salisbury. An-iving at Salisbury, he, with his three officers, made the charge against Polk to the Board of War, as stated (Nov. 12th), and the next day Gates wrote Smallwood. in answer to the latter's letter of October :51st:

"A Board of general officers, who yesterday morning met at my quarters, have given it as their unanimous opinion that Colonel Polk should be immediately obliged to answer for his conduct. ... I am astonished at what you mention in regard to Colonel Polk's refusing to supply the Continental troops with provisions." — "Gates Letter Book,"Doc. 155.

On receiving this letter, Smallwood replied, November 16th :

"You must either have mistaken my letter, or there was an error made in transcribing with respect to Colonel Polk's refusing to supply the

which he was so fortunate as to surprise and capture Colonel Fletcher, a noted South Carolina Tory leader.

Colonel Williamson, who was operating in the same neighborhood, had been ordered to take a portion of his regiment and disperse a camp of Loyalists then forming on the Saluda. In this he was unsuccessful, and he was compelled, about the first of December, 1775, to fall back and occupy the court-house and jail at Ninety-Six. Around these buildings Williamson erected a stockade, in which he was besieged by the Tories for ten or twelve days, until the garrison was relieved and the siege raised by the approach of Thompson's regunent and the North and South Carolina militia under the command of Brigadier-General Eichard Richardson. The Loyalists, num-

Continental troops, which I could not have been justified in saying; and from the original it will appear that provision was so scarce that they had suffered by his not fully supplying them, which at that time was really the case both with them and the militia. But to prevent any misunderstanding have enclosed you such extracts from my letters of the 31st ulto. to you and the Board of War, as respects his conduct, and in justice to him the army here since has been better supplied, and I only then thought him wrong in refusing to supply the militia, and to superintend and spur on the commissioners in their duty, — finding at the time the army suffered, it was much owing to the corn being too green to be gathered or ground in any quantity." — " Gates Papers," Doe. 198.

On November 16th Polk reported himself at headquarters. The result may be gathered from a letter from Gates to the Board of War:

" Salisbury, 17th November, 1780. "Sirs: Colonel Polk arrived here yesterday. I showed him General Smallwood's letter complaining of his not supplying provisions even to the Continental troops. I acquainted him, also, that his conduct was deemed doubtful and suspicious, and requested to know if I might depend upon his continuing to act as commissary to the troops. He said, since he found his countrymen suspected his fidelity, he would no longer act as commissary than until he had delivered 500 beeves and 1000 bushels of com. which he had now collecting; when that was done he desired it might be understood he resigned his office. Enclosed you have his letters to that effect, — what is now to be done?" — "Gates Letter Book," Doc. 164.

bering about four huudred, fell ])ack on Reedy River, where they were surprised on December 22, 1775, by a detachment under Colonel Thompson, and, with a few exceptions, were made prisoners. Colonel Thompson, learning: after the capture that a Captain York with a detail of thirty men had left the Loyalist camp on the preceding day for the purpose of procuring pro^d-sions, sent Polk with thirty men of his regiment and a number of volunteer militia to intercept York on his return. In the evening of the same day York and all his party, with the exception of two who were better mounted than their comrades, were sui'prised and made prisoners. Polk, with William Henderson (who afterward succeeded Sumter in the command of the South Carolina State Brigade), gave chase to the fugitives, and

This correspondence fully explains the natiu-e of the charare against Thomas Polk, and Smallwood's letter of November 16th is virtually its retraction. It is clear that Gates, even before the receipt of this second letter from Smallwood, was willing to accept Polk's explanations and continue him in ofiice; but the completion of the vindication came in the refusal of the Board to accept his resignation, and in General Greene's desire to retain him as the commissary for his forces. (See "Greene Papers.") Polk retained the ofiice of district commissary, but relinquished that of commissary of the forces in the field in favor of Major William Davie, whom he warmly recommended to General Greene.

The new commander reached Charlotte on the 2d of December, and spent his first night with Thomas Polk, .studying the condition of affairs. Polk's comment upon the interview being this : " By the following morning Greene better understood the resources of the country than Gates had done during the whole period of his command." — W^aTson's "Men and Times of the Revolution," p. 259.

Of Polk's constant use of his own credit in the purchase of supplies for the army under Gates, and his continued efforts to assist that under Greene, his letters to General Greene of January 14 and March 1, 1781, give ample proof. (See " Greene Papers.") He writes: " For want of cash to comply with my fonner contracts for provisions, I am under the unusual as well as disagreeable necessity of being personally dunned. Upon receiving Major-General Gates's appointment he assured me of always being sufficiently supplied with money to answer the purposes of my appointment, upon which promise I advanced my own money, and exerted

'iC. A MA JOE AT EIGHTEEN. [1777

ill the struggle which ensued Polk was shot through the left shoulder. A dangerous wound at any time, it became doubly so from exposure, fatigue, and cold. With more than a foot of snoAV on the ground, he was carried one hundi*ed and forty miles to his father's house, Avhere he was confined to his Ijed for ten mouths. On the 26th of Novenibei-, 1776, he was chosen by the Provincial Congress of his State to be major of the 9tli Regiment of the North Carolina troops, raised on the Continental establishment, and joined his regiment at Halifax in March, 1777. The colonel and lieutenant-colonel being detailed for other duties. Major Polk, in his eighteenth year, took command of the regiment, and marched it, %vith the Third Division of the North Carolina line, into the Jerseys to join the army of Washington, which was on the march to meet General Howe at the headwaters of the Elk.

Major Polk was in the battles of Brandy^\•ine and Germantown. Near the close of the latter action, October 4, 1777, he was shot in the mouth whilst in the act of giving command. The ball ranged with the upper jaw and lodged nearly in a line with the ear, shattering the bone. In the same battle Ms brigade commander, General Francis Nash, was mort^dly wounded, and the

my credit for the amount of at least eleven hundred thousand £ of pro-\-isions already delivered to the army. I received from General Gates two drafts on Maryland and Virginia for little more than three hundred thousand each, one only of which is yet answered or paid. After the other is paid the States will owe me about five hundred thousand £." (Continental money.)

Finding the money could not be obtained, he wrote that he would sell some of his negroes and from his own pocket pay the public debt contracted through him. as he could not bear to be " dunned." Colonel Polk's independence and integrity of character, his incessant efforts to collect supplies, and his sei-vices in forwarding men and material to the army in the field, ai-e incidentally illustrated throughout the whole correspondence. (See'• Greene Papers.")

parting between the yonng soldier and his d\'ing general was sorrowful indeed. " The last time I ever saw General Nash," said Colonel Polk to a friend in 1826, " was on the battlefield of Germantown. He was being borne from the field on a litter. I had just been shot in the mouth and could not speak. I motioned to the bearers of the litter to stop. They did so, and I approached to offer my hand to Nash. He was blind and almost in syncope from loss of blood, but when he was told that William Polk was standing near him, so wounded that he could not speak, Nash held out his hand, and said, ' Good-by, Polk. I am mortally wounded.'"

In spite of his severe wound, young Polk remained near his command, and went into winter quarters with the army at Valley Forge. Thus, with his father, Thomas Polk, he had the honor to be one of the faithful guard of Continentals who clung to the fortunes of Washington through the want and the miser}^ of that dreadful winter. In March, 1778, the nine North Carolina regiments serving with Washington were so reduced in numl^er by deaths and by the expiration of short terms of enlistment, that the State legislature consolidated the nine into four, retiring the supernumerary offic(n-s by lot. It was William Polk's misfortune to be one of those who lost theii* commands in this way. But although thus temporarily retired, he was not inactive, and as soon as he had returned to the South, he engaged first in recruiting service and then in expeditions against the Tories and the British in South Carolina. It was during this service that he found himself associated with Andrew Jackson, and from this association sprang a friendship whieli lasted as long as the two lived.

When General Gates took command of the southern army, Major Polk was placed upon the staff of Major-

General CasAvell, and was present with him at the disastrous defeat at Camden. Finding himself near Gregory's brigade when the rout of the militia began, he rendered some service during the stand made by that part of the command, and finally, after the fall of Baron de Kalb, when the rout was complete and irretrievable, his knowledge of the country enabled him to guide the successful retreat of a considerable body of regidar and militia troops through the woods and by-ways.

Caswell's command being virtually dispersed. Major Polk next sought service with the brave and wise General William Da\adson, whose band of *' Hornets " so well carried on the good work begun at King's Mountain. After the retreat of Cornwallis from Charlotte, Polk was sent to General Gates, and afterward to Governor Thomas Jefferson of Virginia and to the Maiyland Council, to acquaint them with the deplorable condition of affairs about Charlotte and Salisbury, He was unsuccessful iu his appeal to the president of the Maiyland Council, but his mission to Jefferson was both pleasant and profitable. The governor received and entertained him most cordially, and made him the bearer of assurances to General Gates that Virginia would continue her efforts, so far as her resources permitted, to aid the southern army.

In December, 1780, when Greene relieved Gates of the command of the army at Charlotte, he ordered William Polk to accompany and assist General Kosciusko in the important duty of selecting a camp for the army in the better provisioned regions watered by the Pedee. During this expedition Polk's intimate association with Kosciusko inspired him with an affectionate admmition for the gallant Pole who fought so suecessfuUj^ for American independence, but failed so disastrously in his heroic effort to assert the independence of his own country.

When the army had been estabhshed upon the Pedee, Major Pollv obtained permission to return to Charlotte to assist General Davidson in raising a command to be drawn from the militia of the counties of Mecklenburg, Rowan, Iredell, and Lincoln. Davidson was so far successful that, by the latter part of January, he was able to march with nearly eight hundred men to the relief of Morgan on his hurried retreat after the success at Cow-pens. As the British crossed the Catawba at Cowan's Ford, in eager pursuit of theu* flying foes, they were furiously attacked by the newly recruited force under Davidson. Cornwallis, who w^as leading the British in person, had his horse shot under him. Davidson, mortally wounded, fell into Polk's arms, who was riding by his side. At the fall of Davidson the militia scattered. Polk, gathering as many of them as he could, led them to Salem, and reported for service to General Pickens before Greene crossed the Dan, skirmishing with the rear of Cornwallis's army, and afterward following Tarleton and the Royahst Colonel Pyle into the country of the Haw.

Soon after the battle of Guilford Court House and the retreat of Cornwallis to Wilmington, Major Polk received his commission as lieutenant-colonel from Governor John Rutledge of South Carolina, and was ordered to raise a regiment of " swordsmen " and mounted infantry, to be called the 4tli Regiment of South Carolina Horse. Within a month he had enlisted two thirds of the required number of men, and reported under orders to General Sumter, who was then operating in the country lying between the British posts of Camden and Ninety-Six. His first service with his new regiment was undertaken in conjunction with Colonel Wade Hampton. By a rapid nun-ch of sixty miles in seventeen hours they sm--

prised a British outpost at Friday's Ferry on the Con-^aree, killing twenty-seven of the enemy and burning the block-house in sight of the garrison at Fort Granby. He next joined Sumter at the siege of Orangeburg, and aided in the capture of that post. Then he was ordered to report to General Marion before Fort Mott; but, as tlic Bi-itish garrison stationed there had surrendered on the day following the capture of Orangeburg, he arrived too late to participate in that success. Again following the fortunes of Sumter and Marion, after the battle of Eutaw, he took part in a descent upon Dorchester and the fortified position at Watboe Chui-ch, near Charleston, Lee and the two Hamptons l:»eing sent into the Neck, while Polk, Horry, and Malione were pushed do\^Ti to invest the works around Watboe. The bridges were burned and some river craft destroyed in Watboe Creek, but the position was too strong to be taken by a coup de main, and the investment of the works had to be postponed until the arrival of the artillery. While the patriot troops were breakfasting, the British cavalry made a furious charge upon them, but was repulsed by the infantry, and driven bv the American cavalry to seek shelter under the guns of the fort. That night the Royalist troops abandoned the position. In the morning Lee and the two Hamptons started in pursuit and attacked them at Grimsly.^

General Simiter had faUen seriously ill, and the command of his brigade had been taken by William Polk's early friend and companion in arms. Colonel Henderson. In the fight at Eutaw Springs the brigade was composed of Hampton's, jVIiddleton's, and Polk's regiments. These troops, in conjuuction with Lee's Legion, covered the

1 This account of Polk's service with Sumter and Marion is from his own MS.

advance of Greene's line of battle, and then took position on the left flank, directly opposite to the light infantry of Major Majoribanks, one of the best commands of the British force then in America. Tims, while the infantry of Lee's Legion was engaged (on the right of the covering body) with the 63d Regiment of British regnlars, the left, nnder Henderson, was exposed to a galling fire from Majoribanks, whose men were hidden behind the cover of a thicket. It was a severe trial for raw troops. Henderson wonld gladly have pnt an end to it by charging the British right wing, but his orders were to protect the American flank, and his men, animated by his spirit, as brave men always are by the courage of a gallant leader, stood by him with unflinching firmness. Henderson was wounded. For a moment his men wavered ; but Hampton, the senior colonel, seconded by Polk and Middleton, soon succeeded in rallying them. Later in the battle. Coffin with his cavalry charged a party of Americans who were scattered among the British tents. Greene ordered up the cavalry of "Light Horse Harry Lee's" Legion to meet the attack; but Lee's charge, though gallantly made, was unsuccessful, and Coffin, pressing on, forced his way through the scattered Americans. At this moment Hampton, with Polk and Middleton, came up, and after an obstinate hand-to-hand fight forced the British cavalry back under cover of their guns.^ In one of the numerous hand-to-hand encounters of the day Polk's horse was shot dead and fell upon him, and a British soldier was in the very act of pinning him to the ground with the bayonet, when a timely sabre-stroke from one of his sergeants cut down his assailant and saved his life. As might have been expected in so desperately contested a battle, all the com-

1 G. W. Greene's "Life of Greene." vol. iii, pp. 3'.l."), .'!0G, 401.

iiiaiuls suffered heavy loss, and among the killed was William Polk's younger brother, Thomas, who was a lieutenant in his regiment.

In his official report of the battle of Eutaw General Greene said :

Lieutenant-Colonels Polk and Middleton were no less conspicuous for their good conduct than their intrepidity, and the troops under their command gave a specimen of what may be expected from men natm-ally brave when imj^roved by proper discipline.

The retreat of the British to Charleston left but little for the American cavalry to do beyond picket duty, skirmishing, and scouting, and in such service William Polk continued until peace was made and the army disbanded.

Among the interesting incidents of William Polk's military career was an encounter with the gallant British dragoon Tarleton — then a mere lad like liimself — in his raid upon the Waxhaw; but beyond a few words of Andrew Jackson, relating a surprise of Polk and himself by British cavalry under the dashing young Englishman, we have little knowledge of the circumstances of the meeting. It appears to have occurred upon an occasion when the British cavalry caught the "rebels" detiling tlu-ough a long lane bordered by high rail-fences. That good use was made of the opportunity is shown by the straits to which Jackson and Polk were put in order to make their escape, and may be inferred from Tarleton's well-kno^vn capacity as a commander of cavaliy. Though but a lad in years when he was first commissioned, Polk was a stalwart man, six feet four inches in height, and of great strength. Sabres were difficult to obtain in the American colonics, and his swoi-d

was made for him from a scythe-blade. Battles were not then fought, as now, at a distance of a mile or more from the enemy, and an officer's sword had not yet become a mere symbol of command. Polk was often engaged at the head of his troopers in hand-to-hand encounters with the enemy's cavalry. In one of these a sturdy British soldier singled him out and made a furious assault upon him. For a time the issue was doubtful, but Polk, beating down his adversary's guard, struck the gallant fellow squarely upon the crown of his head and clove him abnost to the chin.

In 1783, after the close of the war. Colonel Polk served his State and country in various capacities. He was appointed by the legislature of North Carolina surveyor-general of the Middle District, now in the State of Tennessee. He remained there until 1786, and was twice elected a member of the House of Commons, representing Davidson County in that body. In 1787 he was elected to the General Assembly of North Carohna from his native county of Mecklenburg, which he continued to represent until he was nominated by Washington and confli-med by the Senate as supervisor of internal revenue for the district of North Carolina. This office he held for seventeen years, through the administrations of Washington, Adams, and Jefferson, and until the internal-revenue laws were repealed.

In 1789 Colonel Polk married Grizelda Gilchrist, daughter of a Scotch gentleman, and granddaughter of Robert Jones, a prominent lawyer of Halifax. Two children were born of this marriage. Mrs. Polk died in 1799. Soon afterward Colonel Polk removed to the city of Raleigh, where, in 1801, he married Sarah, a daughter of Colonel Philemon Hawkins, and a sister of the late governor of that name. Twelve children, one of

whom was Leonidas Polk, were born of the second marriage.

In 1811 Colonel Polk was elected a director of the State Bank of North Carolina, and was chosen president by his colleagues. This oflice lie filled until 1819, when he resigned in order to devote more of his time and personal attention to his estate in Tennessee, which comprised an area of 100,000 acres. On the 25th of March, 1812, he was appointed by President Madison, with the consent of the Senate, a brigadier-general in the army of the United States. This commission, much to his subsequent regret, he declined on political grounds, thinking — eiToneously, as he afterward saw — that his position as a stanch and very prominent Federalist forbade his acceptance of the flattering but weU-earned distinction from Mr. Madison's administration.

When Lafayette returned to America in 1824 and made his memorable tour through the States, Colonel Polk was one of the commissioners appointed to do the honors of the State of North Carolina to his old comrade in arms.

An eye-witness has left an amusing account of some incidents of the reception of Lafayette on Ms passage through North Carolina. Colonel William Polk had been requested by Governor Burton to provide a cavalry escort for the illustrious \asitor, and a troop of excellently di'illed and handsomely uniformed volunteers was formed from the militia of JMeeklenburg and Cabarrus counties. Colonel Polk, the govei*nor, and the cavalry escort, imder command of General Daniel, met Lafayette near the A^rginia line. There was much hand-shaking and speech-making. But, as the naiTator Avrites, " Lafayette spoke but little English, and understood less. He had retained a few phrases. Avhieh ho would utter, gener-

ally in an effective manner, but sometimes ludicrously malapropos." '' Thanks ! My dear friend ! Great country ! Happy man ! Ah, I remember ! " were nearly his whole vocabulary. He was received at the borders of each State by appointed commissioners, and when he had been escorted through it he was safely delivered to the commissioners of the next commonwealth. At Halifax the cortege was met by General Daniel, who had stationed a company of soldiers by the roadside, flanked by the ladies who were assembled to do honor to the guest of the State. It had been arranged that the ladies were to wave theii* handkerchiefs as soon as Lafayette came in sight, and when General Daniel exclaimed, " Welcome, Lafayette ! " the whole company was to repeat the welcome after him. Unluckil}^, the ladies, misunderstanding the programme, waited too long and were reminded of their duty by a stentorian command of, " Flirt, ladies, flirt; flirt,^ I say ! " from the general as he walked down the line to meet the marquis. Equally misunderstanding their part, the soldiers, instead of shouting, " Welcome, Lafayette," in unison at the close of the general's address, repeated the sentence one by one, and in varying tones. Now a deep bass voice would exclaim, ''Welcome, Lafayette ! " Then perhaps the next man in a shrill tenor would squeak, *' Welcome, Lafayette ! " And so on down the line. Daniel, frantic at this burlesque of his order, vainly attempted to correct it; but, as he unfortunately stammered when he was excited, his " Say it all to-to-to-geth-er! " could not overtake the running fire of " Welcome, Lafayette!" which continued all along the line. *' Great country ! Great country ! " replied Lafayette, turning to Colonel Polk, who was vainly trying not to smile. Observing and recognizing an old acquaintance,

1 Flirt = to wave.

Lafayette greeted him with great effusion: "Ah, my dear friend — so ghid to see you once more ! Hope you have prospered and had good fortune these years."

" Yes, General, yes; but I have had the great misfortune to lose my wife since I saw you."

Catching only the "Yes, General," and the word "wife," Lafa^'ette supposed his friend was informing him of his marriage, and, patting him affectionately on the shoulder, he exclaimed, " Happy man! Happy man! " nor could he be made to understand that his observation was not a happy one.

After replying to the address of welcome which had been delivered by Colonel Polk from the steps of the Capitol, Lafayette, with all the di-amatic action of a Frenchman, tui-ned to Polk, and before the old soldier knew what he was about, threw his arms around his neck and attempted to kiss him on the cheek. Colonel Polk straightened himself up to his full height of six feet four, and instinctively threw his head l)ack to escape the caress; but Lafayette, who was a dapper little fellow, tiptoed and hung on to the gi'im giant, whOe a shout of laughter burst from the spectators and was with some difficulty turned into a cheer.

Of Colonel William Polk's influence in the State of Tennessee Governor Swain of North Carolina has said: " lie was the contemporary and personal friend and associate of Andrew Jackson, not less heroic in war, and quite as sagacious and more successful in ])rivate life. It is known that Colonel Polk greatly ad\anced the interests and enliaiiced the wealth of the hero of Xew Orleans by information furnished him from his field-notes as a surveyor and in directing Jackson in his selections of valuable tracts of land in the State of Tennessee : that to Samuel Polk, the father of the President,

lie gave the agency of renting and selling- his [William Polk'sj immense and valuable estate in lands in the most fertile section of that State; that, as first president of the Bank of North Carolina, he made Jacob Johnson, the father of President Andrew Johnson, its first porter, so that of the three native North Carolinians who entered the White Honse through the gates of Tennessee all are alike indebted for benefactions, and for promotion to a more favorable position in life, to the same individual, William Polk — a man whose insight into character rarely admitted of the selection, and never of the retention, of an unworthy agent."

Colonel Polk died at his residence at Raleigh on January 4, 1834, and was buried with military honors. An ardent member of the patriotic Order of the Cincinnati, he was the last surviving field-officer of the North Carolina line in the war for independence.

Of the family life of Colonel William Polk only a few incidents have been preserved; but in families, as in nations, the silences of history are often records of happiness, and the family life of William Polk was one of unbroken peace and happiness. The youth who led his regiment in battle at the age of eighteen, and who had fought with distinguished gallantry through a long war before he was five-and-twenty, was as loyal to his family and his friends in after-life as he had been to his country. In society he was a generous host, a trusty friend, and a kindly neighbor. In politics he was earnest in his convictions, consistent in his conduct, and faithful to his associates. In pul^lic life he had repeated and long-continued proofs of the esteem of his fellow-citizens. It must be admitted that he was not a professedly religious man, but it is by no means im])ossible that luider an appearance of indifference he may liave concealed more

91858

38 COLO};EL I'OLKS MlLlTAliY SrilUT. [182U

real reverence tliaii others avIio inade loud professions. In 1826 his son Leonidas returned on furlough from the academy at West Point, deeply impressed with religious feelings and convictions. One evening the lad was seated on the porch conversing wath his friend of earlier and later years, Mam-ice Waddell, grandson of the General Nash who fell at Germantown. Colonel Polk joined them and spoke -oath enthusiasm of the Mecklenburg Declaration and the Revolution, and of men like Nash, who had fought and died for the independence of their country. He reminded the boys that the revolutionary patriots were not only brave and chivalrous soldiers, but men of generous and noble principles, and counseled them to take those men as examples in all their conduct. The conversation was serious, almost solemn, and Leonidas ventured to suggest that the principles of honor could only be strengthened and enforced by the principles of religion. As soon, however, as that view of the subject was presented, the old soldier rose, and, without a word, left the porch. A year later, when Leonidas announced his intention to throw away all the advantages he had earned at West Point, to abandon a military career, and to exchange his uniform for a surplice, Colonel Polk was deeply disappointed. He could not understand the motive of such a resolve. To him the life of a soldier was the noblest life to which a gallant man could devote himself, and it had been his pride to think that Leonidas was destined to continue, and perhaps to add lustre to, the many military traditions of his family. He therefore used every influence, except that of positive command, to dissuade the young man from his purpose. When Leonidas did actually resign his commission to enter the theological seminary at Alex-audrin. his father, who was then in Washington, visiting

his friend Andrew Jackson, the President-elect, could not refrain from pouring out his disappointment and vexation to his old comrade. About the same time he wrote to his son, "You are spoiling a good soldier to make a poor preacher!" It might have soothed the feelings of the veteran if he could have known that Leonidas would one day buckle on the sword, that he would lead more men into the field than his father had ever seen arrayed in battle, and that he would die, at last, a soldier's death on the field of honor, fighting for what he deemed to be the cause of right and liberty.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER I.

(See Thomas Polk, p. 9.)

Joseph Seawell Jones, in his " Defense of the Revolutionary History of North Carohna," says: "Tradition ascribes to Thomas Polk, who had then been for a long time engaged in the service of the province as a surveyor and as a member of the Assembly, the principal agency in bringing about the Declaration. He appears to have given notice for the election of the convention, and, being a colonel of the county, to have supervised the election in each of the militia districts."

The Rev. Humphrey Hunter, a soldier of the Revolution, passed his whole life, of seventy-three years, in Mecklenbiirg County, and was weU. known to its people. He was a few days over twenty years of age on that memorable 20th of May, 1775, and afterward bore witness that he was present at the meeting in front of the court-house, and then and there heard the Declaration read by Thomas Polk. A diary kept by 3Ir. Hunter contains the following account of the proceedings :

" Orders were issued by Colonel Thomas Polk to the several militia companies that two men, selected for each corps, should meet at the court-house on the 19th May, 1775, in order to consult with each other upon such measures as might be thought best to be pursued.

"Accordingly, on said day, a far larger number than two out of each company were present. A certain number were selected and styled delegates. Abram Alexander was unanimously elected chairman, John McKnitt Alexander and Ephraim Brevard were chosen secretaries. A fuU, free, and dispassionate discussion obtained on the various subjects for

which, the meeting had been called, and certain resolutions, afterward embodied in the Mecklenburg- Declaration, were unanimously passed. By-laws and regulations for the government of a standing committee of public safety were then enacted. A select committee was then appointed to report on the ensuing day a corrected and formal draft of the resolutions adopted, and the delegates adjom-ned until the next day at noon.

" On the 20th of May at twelve o'clock the delegates had convened. The select committee was present, and reported, agreeably to instructions, a formal draft of the Declaration of Independence, written by Ephraim Brevard, chairman of said committee, and read by him to the delegates. It was then announced from the chair, * Are you all agreed ?' There was not a dissenting voice.

'* Finally the whole proceedings were read distinctly and audibly at the court-house door by Colonel Thomas Polk to a large, respectable, and approving assembly of citizens who were present and gave sanction to the business of the day.

" During the reading of the Declaration all were still, every eye was fixed on the form, every ear open to the full, deep-toned voice of Colonel Polk. When he closed aU drew a long breath, each man looked into his neighbor's eyes and saw the fii-e gleaming there. A voice from the multitude called out, ' Three cheers!' and then went up such a shout as was never before heard in Mecklenburg. The deed was done; these men had pledged all they had, lives, fortunes, honor; and, true as steel, from that hour to this they have never shrunk. This was the first public Declaration of Independence in the British colonies. The people retui-ned to their homes and vocations, taught by their leaders to expect trouble, and to be ready to answer their country's summons at a moment's warning."

The Mecklenbui-g Declaration was first published, so as to reach the general reading public, in the lialeigh Begister of April 30, 1819, as a communication from Dr. Joseph McKnitt Alexander. Its genuineness has been disputed by persons not familiar with the local history of North Carohna

Jm-ing the Revolution, but the testimony in the support of its authenticity would establish its claims before any court in which the rules of evidence are observed.

Dr. Charles Caldwell, who went when a youth from Meck-lenbui-g to Philadelphia, where he won an enviable reputation both in his profession and as a citizen,^ pubhshed in 1812 his '' Memoirs of the Life and Campaign of General Greene in the War of the Revolution." In the appendix he gives in full the Mecklenburg Declaration of May 20, 1775, adding that he was Avell acquainted with Colonel Thomas Polk, and also the ehaii'man and secretaiy of the meeting that adopted the resolutions. It must be admitted that Dr. Caldwell knew, from daily intercourse with men who had fought in the war for independence, the striliing incidents which took place in that part of the country at a time immediately preceding, as well as those contemporaneous with, the great struggle. Ho declared there could be no doubt about the authenticity of the Declaration of May 20, 1775.

Again, when the Declaration, as published in the Raleigh Register, was attacked as spurious by Thomas Jefferson and others who had never before heard of it. Colonel William Polk procured and commiuiicated to the Raleigh Register of February 18, 1820, the certificates of George Graham, Wilham Hutchison, Jonas Clark, and Robert Robinson, aU neighbors of his and men of the highest character, to the effect that they were all present at the meeting of May 19th and 20th, that on the last-named date resolutions were read which went to declare the people of Mecklenburg free and independent of the King of Great Britain. Moreover, the semi-centennial celebration of this remarkable Declaration was attended by sixty or seventy veterans of the Revolutionary War, men not apt to be duped by false stories on this point, nor indeed on any other connected with the war in that region. Of these same veterans, twenty-seven were present at the celebration of 1835.

1 For much of the detail of this part of my work I am indebted to the able and logical address of Gov. W. A. Graham, delivered at Charlotte. N. C, May 20, 1775.

THE "DAVIE COPY" OF THE MECKLENBURG DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

1st. Resolved, That whosoever directly or indirectly abetted, or in any way, form, or manner countenanced the unchartered and dangerous invasion of our rights, as claimed by Great Britain, is an enemy to this country, to America, and to the inherent and inalienable rights of man.

2d. Resolved, That we, the citizens of Mecklenburg County, do hereby dissolve the political bands which have connected us with the mother-country, and hereby absolve ourselves from all allegiance to the British Crown, and abjure all political connection, contract, or association with that nation, who have wantonly trampled on our rights and liberties and inhumanly shed the blood of American patriots at Lexington.

3d. Resolved, That we do hereby declare ourselves a free and independent people; are, and of right ought to be, a sovereign and self-governing Association, under the control of no power other than that of our God and the general government of the Congress; to the maintenance of which independence we solemnly pledge to each other our mutual cooperation, our lives, our fortunes, and our most sacred honor.

4th. Resolved, That as we now acknowledge the existence and control of no law, or legal officer, civil or military, within this county, we do hereby ordain and adopt as a rvde of life, all, each, and every of our former laws, wherein, nevertheless, the Crown of Great Britain never can be considered as holding rights, privileges, immunities, or authority therein.

5th. Resolved, That it is further decreed, that all, each, and every military offtcer in this county, is hereby reinstated in his former command and authority, he acting conformably to these regulations. And that every member present, of this delegation, shall henceforth be a civil oflicer, viz., a Justice of the Peace, in the character of a " Committeeman," to issue process, hear and determine all matters of controversy, according to said adopted laws, and to preserve peace, union, and harmony in said county; and to use every exertion to spread the love of country and lire of freedom throughout America, untU a more general and organized government be established in this province.

The following letter from John Adams is of interest in this

connection:

MONTEZILLO, April 30,1822.

Hon. John Williajis, Senator of the U. S. from Tennessee.

Si7': I pray you to accept my kind thanks for sending me the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence. Although these papers have been familiar to me for two or three years

past, they are still an incomprehensible mystery. I can scarcely conceive it possible that such a transaction should have been concealed for so many years from the public. Had those resolutions been published at the time, they would have rolled and rebellowed through the Continent, from the Mississippi to the St. Lawrence, and would have been reechoed from every part of Europe. There is but one hypothesis that has ever occuiTed to me for their suppression. Mr. Caswell was a stanch patriot; but he was recalled to take upon Mm the government of North CaroUna and the command of their forces. Mr. Cooper was never cordial in the cause of the country, — and Mr. Hughes was for a long time wavering and undecided, though he at last came out in a style sufficiently unequivocal. These gentlemen were constantly assailed by the friends of the British Government, aided by the Quakers and proprietary gentlemen of Pennsylvania — and by them kept constantly quivering; and, perhaps, persuaded to suppress Resolutions which if they had been published would have had infinitely more influence in the world than Mr. Paine's " Common Sense," which came out so many months after. These were Resolutions of a verv' respectable body of native American citizens. '' Common Sense" was the production of a wandering fugitive adventiu*er. Though Mr. Jefferson believes these Resolutions to be fabrications, yet it is impossible not to believe, from the similarity of expressions in his Declaration of Independence, that he had not heard those words repeated in conversation, though he had not seen the Resolutions in foi-m. I have the honor to be, sii'.

Your obliged and humble servant,

JoH^" Adams.

CHAPTER II.

WEST POINT. 1820 TO 1827.

Leonidas Polk's early education. — Enters University of North Carolina. — A singer of patriotic songs. — An old-time celebration of the Fourth of July. — University life. — Enters the U. S. Military Academy at West Point. — His mode of life. — Love of justice. — Friendship with Albert Sidney Johnston. — Visit of General Scott and George Canning to West Point. — Major-General Gaines. — Internal working of the Academy. — Appointment on the staff. — General Worth's war horse. — Lafayette's visit to West Point. — " A patch for old shirts." — Colonel Thayer.

— A spying postmaster. — Debts. — Breach of regulations by the drawing class. — Appeal to the Secretary of War. — The Secretary's reply. — Conversion. — Chaplain Mcllvaine's influence. — The praying squad. — Religious condition of the Academy. — Polk's baptism. — Appointed orderly sergeant: a trying position. — Tells his father of his conversion. — Trials attending conversion. — Nightly meetings for worship. — Colonel Polk's feelings on his son's conversion. — Offered a professorship at Amherst CoUege. — Graduation. — Travels in New England and Canada.

— Resigns commission. — Enters on study for the ministry.

Very few anecdotes or incidents of the earliest years of the life of Leonidas Polk have been preserved. Like many other men of action, he appears to have been known as a high-spirited and healthy child, of whom the partiaUty of friends might hope mnch, but who gave no precocious indications of future distinction. At all events, when it has been said that he was the second son of the second marriage of William Polk, that he was born at Raleigh on the lOtli of April, 1806, that he leceived his earliest education in the academy of the Rev. Dr. McPheters in that city, and that he was remoiu-

bored by his coiiteniporarios as a leader in the sports of their boyhood, all that is known of those years has been told.

In 1821 he was entered at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. At that time he w^as a handsome, well-grown lad, and somewhat famous, it appears, as a singer of patriotic; songs. The Hon. Kemp P. Battle, in a centenary address delivered at Raleigh, has recalled one of his triumphs as a vocalist.

"The celeln-ation of the Fourth of July," he says, " filled so large a space in the minds of the people of that day that this address would be incomplete without an attempt to recall them. The day was ushered in by firing of cannon. There Avas a Federal salute, as it was called: one gun for each State in the Union. Then a procession was formed at the court-house and moved to the music of fife and drum to the Capitol Square. -There an ode was sung. Then the Declaration of Independence was read; then an ode; then came the oration, which was followed by an ode. These odes, sung with spirit, were far more soul-stirring than the music of brass bands in these days. At noon a good dinner was set. There were two tables, presided over by the President and Vice-President. Toasts were drunk, followed by speeches and conviAaal songs. A participant enables me to give an account of one of these scenes, which is a fair sample of all. Governor Holmes presided at one table, Colonel [William] Polk at the other. Three judges were appointed to decide which table furnished the best song and the best speech; viz., Joseph Gales, the distinguished editor, Chief-Justice Taylor, and Judge Hall of the Supreme Court. The favorite singer at Governor Holmes's table was one Reeder, a tinner, who had gallantly run ' for his countrs-'s fame' at Bladensburg. The champion

of the other table was Leonidas Polk, son of the colonel, afterward the great missionary bishop of the Southwest, and later still the soldier-bishop who was killed at Kene-saw. On account of the vocal powers of the future bishop, the judges awarded the victory to the table of his father. The prize of victory was the j)rivilege of taking the occupants of both tables to the home of the victor and treating them to new viands. The crowd hurried tumultuously, singing and shouting, to the residence of Colonel Polk, following him, and dragging a cannon with them. An ample table was found spread for them; new toasts were drunk, new songs were sung, the cannon, was fired, and, amid shouts and hurrahs for Colonel Polk and Independence, the patriots, with their bosoms too full for articulate utterance, meandered to their homes." One letter written during his student life at Chapel Hill has been preserved. It is of little importance, except in so far as it illustrates the strong family affection which existed between the members of the Polk family, the dash of frolicsome humor which always renuiined with him, and the amusing ceremoniousness which was blended with his expressions of affection. The letter was written to his sister Mary, then at school in the North, and subsequently the wife of Mr. George Badger, for many years United States Senator from North Carolina and Chief-Justice of the Supreme Court of the State.

Chapel Hill, February 10,1823. My dear Sister: On my arrival in this place I wrote you in answer to your letter received during my vacation, and enclosed it to Raleigh, thence to be forwarded to you. Knowing your punctuality in answering letters, I cannot account for the delay you seem to express in replying to the above named. You have no conception of the pleasure I derive from the perusal of a letter from you, being so far distant

from home and the peculiarity of your situation. My letter must have miscai'ried.

I received a line from brother a few days since j he is

adualhi to take a trip to Tennessee this coming- spring with my father, and there to remain, I presume, for no short space of time, judging from the nature of Pa's business in that much-talked-of State. He is the most anxious man to get married I have ever seen, but has not found any girl that strikes his fancy, or who has all that is reqiiisite to be the wife of a '* Polk," for I believe they are choice. The family are all Avell, and Hamilton has gone to Uncle Little's to school, the greatest blessing ever conferred on liim. We are all now from home who can possibly be spared from the nursery except the gentleman whom I have said has such an itching for a partner.

I am at this moment about to go on a skating expedition; the ice on our pond is very thick, and last night there was a heavy fall of snow which still continues. It is nearly eight inches thick. This you will deem but a slight drift in comparison to those wliich you have, but it is more than ice everj' day see.

With the utmost respect and esteem.

Your affectionate brother,

Leonidas.

When his second year at Chapel Hill Avas drawing to a close, Leonidas, to his gi*eat delight, received, through his father's influence, an appointment to a cadetship in the United States Military Academy at West Point, and he immediately addi-essed the following letter to his father:

Chapel Hill, March 10,1823.

Mrj dear Father: Yours announcing my appointment by the President as a cadet at West Point was duly and most cordially received. You can imagine but few things which would have more highly gi-atified me. Many and various thoughts floated across my mind, on seeing the direction of

it. I not only liailed it with delight as the messenger bearing tidings of an appointment so long wished for, an appointment which was to make so vast an alteration in my career in life (an agreeable change it is too), but I at once thought of the inexpressible joy of my sister on seeing me, and my truly exquisite pleasure in returning her embraces. You expressed in youi- letter a desu-e that I should instantly turn my attention to acquiring a knowledge of arithmetic sufficient to make me an acceptable candidate. You directed me also to continue with my class to recite Latin, and, if possible, the rest of my studies, too; learning arithmetic at the same time. My time would not permit me to attend to all these duties at once. We rise in the morning at half past five o'clock, then until eight are engaged in chapel duties and recitation. At eight we are summoned to breakfast — there is then an hour appropriated for that purpose; from nine until twelve we are preparing for and reciting our Greek lesson; until one we have for relaxation and exercise. We go to dinner at one, and commence at two to get our Latin lesson, are thus engaged until four, at which time we recite it; remain at recitation until five, then repair to the chapel, hear pi'ayers, thence to supper. There is a vacation until eight P.M., at which time we reth-e to our rooms to prepare a geometry lesson to recite at seven the next morning. Our time is thus occupied during the week until Saturday, the evening of which we are entitled to, leaving b^^t very few spare hours to be devoted to exercise and reading. We have to show compositions every fortnight in the class, and they have to be wi'itteu during play hours. The society duties are to be attended to also weekly, which are of very great importance and require their portion of time. From this statement you will perceive it is utterly impossible to attend to anything else to the least advantage. To relinquish all but the Latin and to devote the rest of my time to other than college duties, the facility would not permit me. There have been instances of students being wholly irregular on the languages and studying English only, but never one where a student was partly irregular on them. So to neglect one of the languages

I must neglect both. But there is not a class in college that is studying arithmetic, therefore I cannot study arithmetic and be a collegian. I am consequently unable to pursue the plan you desire me. My class will, the latter part of this week or the first of next, have read all the Latin they intend to read; they will then turn back to review. I have acquired a knowledge sufficient of Latin to enable me to construe most of the sentences with which 1 meet in reading, or at least to glean the author's meaning, and I could obtain but a little more by a review of my studies. In going to West Point I do not wish to leave this place unprepared to stand the most serutinous examination. I have passed half through this institution, and am but imperfectly acquainted with most of the studies I have been prosecuting; this ignorance is to be imputed to my being badly prepared on entering college. The evil has shown itself, and I will avoid it henceforth. Yet I am not satisfied with a mere knowledge sufficient to enable me to enter the Military Academy. I wish to obtain something more. I am anxious to be acquainted with the Freuch language, in which most or all the studies are clothed in that school. It will be of vast advantage to me while there. It is a language which is becoming very generally spoken, more particularly in the best circles of society, and it is an attainment truly desirable. My acquaintance with the rudiments pre^dous to going there will ensure me a more perfect knowledge of it. I saw a letter from Henderson (a young man who left this place and went to the Point to school) to DaA-id Saunders, speaking of the different standings of several boys, and among them his own. He remarked that he held the third standing on French and the ninth on mathematics, which made his general standing sixth. It appears that each boy has a separate standing arranged according to their merit, and he holds the sixth in a class of a hundred, which is very good. His having studied French before going there entitled him to this high rank. Taking aU these things in consideration, father, seeing it is impossible to pursue the plan you have pointed out, and knowing the necessity of an acquaintance with the French, of which there is no teacher

on the Hill, I have deemed it advisable, with your consent, to repair to Hillsborough, after withdrawing from college, there to study arithmetic, French and geography under Mr. Rogers, who is master of the French language. The expense will be nothing, as I have paid only for half the session's board, which will expire in a few days, and it will be necessary to have a "recruit," which will answer as well at HUls-borough as at this place. You mentioned in your letter that I woidd not leave home for the Point until after the Commencement at this place, which will not be untU the 7th or 8th of June, and it is required that I should be there by the 1st. It will be necessary for me then to leave by the middle of May, as I should like to remain in Philadelphia a few days with Mary.

By granting the above requests you will very much oblige, Yoiu- obedient and affectionate son,

Leonidas Polk.

In the month of June, 1823, Leonidas entered the Military Academy. Even among his friends an impression has prevailed that, at least during his first year as a cadet, he was gay, high-spiiited, not particularly studious, not too scrupulously observant of the rules of discipline, and quite too ready at times to join in jovial escapades in which the virtue of moderation was forgotten. In that impression there is an exceedingly small modicum of truth. That the lad was high-spirited and frolicsome there is no doubt; but the standing he held in his class suifieiently proves that he was not idle, and if he at any time incurred the displeasure of his superiors, it was not because he was insubordinate or disorderly, but because he demanded that his superiors, as well as himself, should obey the dictates of justice. He was a soldier by nature; he loved the discipUne which he knew to be necessary in an army; and his lofty self-respect kept him from secret evasions of his

duty. Moroovor, he ■was jn'ond of the Academy, and so eagerly ambitious of its distinctions that an unmerited disappointment in his expectation of bearing off its highest lionors changed the whole course of his life.

In the selection of his intimates at West Point he was discreet and fortunate, one of his earliest and closest friends being Albert Sidney Johnston, who was in the class next before him. Johnston was even then the senior officer of the cadets, and had already exliibited the qualities which in after-life made him both honored and distinguished. Polk and Johnston were room-mates until the latter was graduated in 1826, and theii* friendship endured without a break until the heroic Johnston fell on the field of Shiloli. Very many letters, wi'itten chiefly to his parents, have been preserved, and give a fairly full account of Polk's whole life while at West Point. After two months sj^ent in camp, he "v^Tote to his mother as follows, telling of his association vnXh Johnston, and of recent visits to the Academy which had been made by Mr. Canning and General Scott:

Camp Scott, West Poixt,

August 27, 182.3, My dear Mother: You see, by the date of my letter, that we still are in camp, but will remove into baiTaeks in a few days, the 1st of September being the appointed day. By that time the corps, as well as the officers, become somewhat tired of a camp hfe and desire a change. I am also anxious to return to quarters, yet by no means do I complain of my present situation, for it is such a one as suits my disposition. My anxiety arises from a love of change occasionally, which is certainly natural to us all. My course during the next year will be an agreeable one, owing to my good fortune as to room-mates; they being young men of high standing; two of them Kentucldans, the thu-d a Nortli Carolinian. One of them fi'ora Kentucky, Albert Sidney .Johnston, is the senior

officer of the cadets, and is popular amoug the officers of the staff on account of his strict attention to duty and steadiness of character. We have most of the great folks to visit us, particularly at this season. You may have observed a quotation in the Raleigh Begister from the Netv York Statesman, written by ''A Traveler," giving a description of Mr. Canning's (the British JMinister's) visit to the Point. It is a very correct one, though in some places a little florid. You will oblige me by reading it, if you have not already done so, as it will gratify you. We have this day passed a review before General Scott, who arrived in the steamboat last night, together with his family, and intends remaining here a week. The battalion at twelve o'clock formed in front of the encampment, and were marched on the place opposite the General's quarters by the instructor of cadets. Major Worth; then they formed line in order to salute him when he advanced to inspect them, the colors being in the advance, the band in the rear of them, the battahon in the rear of the band. When everything was in readiness, he, accompanied by Colonel Thayer, proceeded from his quarters and advanced in front of the battahon. On his approach the colors were lowered and the battalion ordered to present arms, which he politely returned by "doffing his beaver." The band then struck up a favorite march of the General's, which was soon followed by various maneuvers by the cadets. Mrs. Scott, who was the beautiful Miss Mayo, was a spectator; I was too military, though, to turn my head, and therefore did not see her. The General is a much larger man than I had supposed him to be. He is larger than my father; indeed I think him about Governor Holmes's size, yet not possessed of half the Governor's grace; in truth, he is more awkward than otherwise.

Your most affectionate son,

Cadet Leonidas Polk.

In a succeeding letter he mentions his good fortune in meeting Major-Genenil Gaines, who had been in command of the Department of the South, and who was so much loved in the armv.

I have had the pleasure of an introduction to General Gaines, in common with the rest of my fellow-soldiers. He is plain and affable in his manners, and relieves a young man from that constraint he is put under in the presence of age, superiority of rank, etc. On being introduced as Cadet Polk from Noi-th Carolina — "Polk," says he; "ah! son of General Polk, I presume." " Yes, sir," was my reply, though not without some hesitation, for I knew of no General Polk of Noi-th Carolina, at least so called by its inhabitants, though I immediately reflected that such was my father's title, and that he was so called by the citizens of Tennessee, where the General has heard him spoken of.

To his father, after six months' experience, he describes the internal working of the Academy:

November 16, 1823. You desired me to give you an account of this institution of the benefits arising from the course of study (comparing it with other institutions), etc. I should have done so unasked, and with pleasure, before this, but for supposing that I had written you on that subject. I think in point of mathematics and philosophy and the other sciences dependent on these two, this institution is inferior to none in the United States, and I may in justice to ourselves say the icorld. This may sound like the empty declaration of boyish enthusiasm, but it is an opinion founded on that of visitors to this place, men of distinction, both foreigners and citizens of the United States, who have seen most literary institutions in Europe. the Polytechnic in France held deservedly the first standing during the time of Bonaparte, but since that, it has fallen through and come into disrepute. The internal organization of this Academy is a pattern from that, and most of the authors we study are selected from the French, some of them translated into Enghsh, others not. The system of teaching is such here as to prevent the occuiTenee of an evil prevalent in most of oiu* colleges. I mean that lazy and idle habit contracted by many students which enables them to be

dragged barely at the heels of their classes. At this place it is indispensably necessary that every one should study, and of course be acquainted with what he studies, as the daily examinations in the section rooms are very rigorous and such as to discover whether one knows his lesson or not. If he should be found repeatedly deficient, he is dismissed or forced to resign. Our time is so wholly engi-ossed in our academic duties that it is impossible to devote any to literary attainments private^. I should add, when I speak of literary attainments, I mean such as composition or attendance on debating societies, etc. I was under the impression before coming here that our knowledge of the French language would enable us to speak it tolerably fluent. But I find that we are only taught to read it sufficiently well to prosecute our studies in French with ease. Enough for the Academy.

Oui' military instruction in tactics, etc., is very good, as there is great care taken to advance in both theory and practice. This depends chiefly, though, on the cadet himself, whether or not he gets into office. If he does, he necessarily has more duty to perform, and is therefore a better soldier.

Our officers — our instructors, I mean, in tactics — are well qualified to perform the duties which devolve on them, and instill very rigid principles of discipline in those under them, which is indeed (recollecting at the same time to whom I address myself) the quintessence of a well-regulated army.

Ill January, 1824, Leoiiidas passed his fii-st examination, and was able to report to his father that, in a class of ninety-six, lie stood fourth in mathematics. In French he was disappointed to be ranked only twenty-seventh. His general standing w\as higli, and even in French it was above the average. Considering the disadvantages under which he had entered, he had reason to be satisfied ; but he declared his intention to gain a higher place, if hard work could accomplish it. In the month of Juh', after a year in the Academy, lie thus modestly reports his first promotion:

1 am now pleasantly situated in camp, tenting: with Mr. Donaldson. When I first arrived, I found I was the fairest cadet in the corps, but after performing two or three ''tours of guard," I was qidte in uniform. So great is the influence of the sun. I am relieved from that duty now by the Major's honoring me with an appointment on the staff, which occurred two days since. I attend to no military duty at this time whatsoever, but am attached to the adjutant's department, and do nothing but write. Following the precedent of the last two years, the office woidd have been given to the head of the class; yet the Major has seen fit to vary from it in the present instance. The appointment is that of staff sergeant. 1

The yoiing cadet had made an impression on his comrades, as well as on Ids superiors, which remained unchanged to the end of his life. Fifty years later, one of them expressed the general feeling concerning liim in these words: "I knew him as a cadet, and during his career as a bishop. He was always the same, a conscientious, persevering, daring man. At West Point he was a boy of fine presence, fine form, graceful bearing, full of life, ready for anji:hing, generous, consistent. What he believed to be right he would do." His promotion aroused no envy in his comrades,- and his diligence as a

1 The major here mentioned was Major, afterward General, Worth, between whom and Polk an affectionate friendship existed for many years. At the outljreak of the Mexican War, Bishop Polk sent his own saddle-horse, an unusually fine animal, to his old commander. It was ridden by the General during the war. It was severely wounded, and was returned by General Wortli at the close of the war in order that it might be properly cared for. The rest of its life was passed as a pensioner in the blue-grass fields of Mr. George Polk, and for years it was a source of never-ending amusement to the children of the family, whose delight it was to play with the gallant old war-horse and rouse his martial spirit by beating drums and even old kettles.

2 Among these comrades were: Robert Anderson. Major-General, U. S. A.; Charles F. Smith. Major-Gcuoral, V. S. A.; Albert Sidney Jolm-

student was so exemplary that in his third year he ranked as one of the " first six " of his class. His letters to his father were joyous, but punctiliously respectful. In September, 1824, he wrote:

We are very comfortably situated in barracks now, and all things go on smoothly, save the existence of a little irritation of feeling, which is the necessary concomitant of all those in the vicinity of the " path " of the Marquis, or General, Lafayette. You will have perceived by the papers that he has returned to New York from his visit to Boston amidst as many demonstrations of joy as Avhen he first reached that city. He is to attend on Monday night a very splendid ball to be given him in that place, in Chatham Garden, which is floored over and will contain, 1 understand, upwards of 5000 persons. On the day after he is to honor us with his presence, — we are to do him all possible military honors, stun him with the roar of cannon, drill until he is tired of us, and as a dinner will be given him, if he remains until night, he will have a levee! Between this place and Newburg, the inhabitants have, I understand, crowned the most prominent heights with hosts of tar barrels (North Carolina wiU thrive) which are to be fired as he passes upwards. This he is to do in the night, of course.

He took a boyish pride in the distinction conferred on his father in the reception of General Lafayette, and was anxious that the old North State shonld appear to

ston, General, C. S. A.; S. P. Heintzelman, Major-General, U. S. A.; A. B. Eaton, Major-General, U. S. A.; Silas Casey, Major-General, U. S. A.; Jefferson Davis, President, C. S. A.; Robert E. Lee, General, C. S. A.; Joseph E. Johnston, General, C. S. A.; O. M. Mitchell, Major-General, U. S. A.; W. Hoffman, Major-General, U. S. A.; T. Swords, Major-General, U. S. A.; A. A. Humphreys, Major-General, U. S. A.; W. H. Emory, Major-General, U. S. A.; Samuel B. Curtis, Major-General, U. S. A. ; Humphrey Marshall, Major-General, C. S. A.; Alexander Dallas Bache, Professor; A. E. Church, Professor; W. W. Mather, Professor; A. T. Bledsoe, Professor; George W. Cass, CivU Engineer.

advantage on that occasion. At the same time he reports that he has entered on the study of fluxions, wliieh he has found to be difficult, but '' subscr\dent to application." In the same letter he mentions the beginning of an indisi)().sition which continued, witli intervals of relief, for several 3'ears, and at one time threatened to close his career by an early death.

By the National Intelligencer I observe it stated that General Lafayette and suite set out for the South on the twenty-third of the last month. He has now, I presume, arrived at Raleigh, and is at this time probably receiving the hearty con-gratuh^tious of its citizens.

I am happy to hear of the distinctions that are paid you on this occasion. All other considerations aside, it evinces on the part of our citizens a willingness stiU to single out and honor at every opportunity the remaining sm'^dvors of our glorious Revolution. It is a just tribute and one which should be paid by the remotest posterity, were it possible for them to live and I'eceive it.

I confidently trust that the reception oE the Genei-al in North Carolina will do much honor to the State. We are greatly in the background in matters and things generally, but from the decisive steps that have been taken, I am constrained to beheve that we will not be on this occasion. We cannot, it is true, parade as many brilliantly caparisoned troops, at once, to discharge so many pieces of artUlery, or show as much pomp and splendor on the occasion, as some of our Northern brethren; yet I presume we can Ijriug forward as much staunch civility, cordiality, and hearty welcora,e as most of them. In conclusiou with this subject I have only to express my sincere regret at the necessity of my absence from participating in the universal joy which will reign dui'ing his stay with you.

We progress here as usual, following closely the same routine of duty. I have, since the examination, been studjdng a subject not prosecuted, I believe, in our University, at

least wlien I was there, — fluxions. At first, as is usual witli almost all studies, it appeared pretty difficult, but, like all other mathematics, was readily subservient to application. To the study of the works of the more learned philosophers, Newton, Gregory, etc., it is indispensable, — all of the philosophy of the former is leased iu fact upon the principles of fluxions.

Excepting a bad cold and sore throat which I now have, my health has been very good.

Another letter wiitten by Leonidas to his mother contains an allnsion to '^ a patch for old shirts," which ''patch" came near getting him into trouble with the authorities.

West Point, April 18, 1825.

My dear 3Iother: It is so customary to begin letters with excuses for the writer's own neghgence, and to detail the long catalogue of uncontrollable events that has been the cause of it all; or to complain of and criminate the remissness of correspondents, that I feel that I should be ashamed to say aught of either. Yet, notwithstanding, I cannot refrain from telling you that I have been a long time patiently awaiting a letter from you. It is true, through others I frequently hear from you. I wish, however, to see the scratch of your own pen.

Pa's last very acceptable letter came to hand in due season, enclosing a "patch for old shirts." I did not intend, as he seems to have understood me, that I actually put on tivo shirts at once, as the term "doubling" would seem to convey. Double they were, it is true ; this was done by my washman, and when they came into my hands they were "two single gentlemen rolled into one," so that our shirts had, as our i)ro-fessor tells us some mathematical points have, the very remarkable property of being two and one at the same time.

With us to-day has been quite an uncommon one, having on it commenced a general review of our course since last January. I also began the study and practice of surveying. To say yet how I like the latter might be premature, inas-

much as we have only had the use of the instruments taught us, and the general principles of it explained. So far, how ever, I am well satisfied, and as I have determined to be more so, and if possible learn it well, it is highly probable I will not be much encumljered with it.

With regard to Hamilton and Harry, I fear that my father wUl be unable to obtain warrants for them, at least for the former, so long as I remain here. There was at the last session of Congress introduced into the Senate by iMr. Macon a bill to prevent the education of more than one of the same family (brothers, as I xmderstand it) at this institution; and also to limit the number of cadets to the number of Congressional Representatives. I recollect afterward to have seen the report of the committee to which this bill was refeiTcd, that this clause referring to the limitation of the number was considered inexiiedient, though I am not positive about the other. This, however, I have heard, that Major Worth, as commandant of the corps, applied for an appointment for a brother of his, and that the Secretary of War infonned him lie could not now have it, though he woidd grant it on the 1st of September next, by which time another brother who is now here shall have gi-aduated and left the Academy.

I have also heard that the cadets for 1826 were appointed by Secretary Calhoun before he left the War Department; whether by request or otherwise, or whether the report is true, I am unable to say, as it came very indirectly.

As yet we have not heard of any intention of marching the corps from this point. With regard to my intended disposal of myself during the ensuing vacation, I have concluded, for reasons before stated to my father, though at that time not determined on, to remain at the Point. It is more than probable I shall visit North Carohna one year hence. This too depends upon a contingency.

The superintendent of the Academy at that time, and for many years after, was Colonel S^ivanus Thayer, a competent soldier and an aceomplished officer, who was laudably desirous to improve the discipline of the in-

stitntion. It may be doubted whether some of Colonel Thayer's methods were eiith-ely judicious. He had the misfortune to inspire some of the cadets with resentment at what they considered a system of espionage, and also with a feeUng that, in the correction of practices which lie disapproved, his awards of punishment were not justly distributed. For a time, but only for a time, Cadet Polk shared in the feelings of his comrades. There was a standing regulation of the Academy which forbade the cadets to receive money from home without the knowledge of the superintendent; but the regulation had been tacitly ignored and had become virtually obsolete. One day Colonel Thayer startled Polk by saying very positively, " You have received money from home, sir." Polk supposed that his father must have written to the colonel mentioning the circumstance, and instantly replied that he had received money. He was thereupon admonished that he must literally obey the regulations on that subject. He explained that the pay he was receiving from the government had been insufficient to supply him with actual necessaries and conveniences, that he had been obliged to contract debts for articles of oi'dinary comfort, and that he was then in debt for such articles. On leaving the colonel he thought nothing more of the subject until he received a letter from his father, from which it appeared that Colonel Thayer's information had not been received from Colonel Polk; and on making further inquiry, he was disgusted to learn that the report against him had been made by a talebearing postmaster who had acted as a spy and had seen him open the letter in which his father's remittance, that ''patch for old shirts," had been contained. The indignation of the young cadet on making this discovery was warmly expressed in a letter \u his father, in

■which, for a moment, he showed himself to be on the verge of deliberate insubordination.

The colonel will not hesitate a moment to receive any information from any source concerning us; there are a gi-eat many individuals (of all ranks) on the Point, who act as his emissaries, and whose duty it is to spjj out secretly and report all infraction of regulations. One of these ferrets it was (I had it from himself), fashioned into the form of a postmaster, and laboring not only under the weight of honor, but also of that of the oaths of office, who conveyed the intelligence. This was not known to me at the time Colonel Thayer spoke to me about it, or I should have put him to the test by asking him for his author. It was my impi'ession, from his saying very positively, " You have received money from home, sir," that probably you had written to him stating the circumstances attending the transmission, and I very unhesitatingly answered that I had. He then went on descanting on the necessity of obeying hterally the regulations and such hke, I told him that the monej' paid me by the government was found to be insufficient to satisfy my actual wants and moderate convenience, and therefore I had apphed for the deficit to you. Shirts I was obliged to have, and I was more in debt at that time than I ever expected to be when I came here. He said, I suspect, pretty much the same that he wrote to you, about merit, conduct, etc., and we separated. The doubt, if any there was, of the postmaster, was turned into certainty, when I, very indiscreetly, opened the letter in his presence, not suspecting he was the man he has pi'oved to be. Lea\'ing to you to judge of such conduct as the above on the part of the head of an institution like this, I will merely say that I was sorry to hear you have stated to the superintendent that such an infraction should not again occiu', for I am now in want of flannels and other things which money must buy. And besides I have touched but $5 of my pay for the last five or six months. By accurate calculation I could not, if I were fi'eed from debt, receive but $G per month of the $28 which are allowed us, so many stop-

pages have there been made upon our pay, and out of this six doUai's I have to pay the tailor, shoemaker, and merchant for such articles as may be wanted. But, exactly like nineteen twentieths of the corps, 1 am indebted to the aforesaid tailor, merchant, etc., the major part of my next month's pay, and this has been the case for many months, and things are so arranged that there seems to be no remedy. Not even the rigid economy of the Yankees can withstand it. Keeping us in debt is said to be the superintendent's policy, thereby preventing us from spending our money for trifles. For one, 1 shoidd rather consult my own wishes and sense of propriety.

Thirteen of us board with an old lady to whom we pay for better fare $2 per month more than is paid at the mess-house. I am also allowed a waiter, to whom I pay $2 per month. I was under the impression that I had mentioned the receipt of the note in the spring in a letter to you. The one by William Baylow was received also, which was very seasonable. I was making my arrangements for a trip to New York, which would have certainly failed but for its reaching me just then.

I have no news to write that Avould interest you. Our examination is approaching, and all are, as usual, making vigorous preparations. Up to this period I have never in North Carolina experienced so pleasant a fall. We have had but one slight fall of snow which did not lie four hours.

The examinations to which Polk refers in this letter, and on w^liich his distinction as a cadet was so largely to depend, resulted in a bitter disappointment. In the drawing- exercises of the Academy a practice had long prevailed, wdtli the knowledge of the instructors, which was doubtless objectionable, and which was finally pro-]ii])ited by Colonel Thayer. The prohibition was disregarded, the cadets choosing to take the risk of their disobedience, and taking it for granted that the consequences would be equitably meted out. Unquestionably Colonel Thayer was right in maintaining discipline; but he aroused in them a strong feeling of antagonism by

&i COMPLAINS TO THE SECRETAllY. [182G

the inequality of the punishments awarded in this case. Polk was one of the cliief sufferers hv Colonel Thaj'er's judp-inent. the consequence to him was a lowering of his standing in his class to an extent which was not just, since nearly the wliole class had been equally in fault. His conduct Avas prompt and characteristic. He addressed a letter of complaint to the Secretaiy of War, and forwarded it, as the regulations required, through Colonel Thayer himself. It was a bojdsh letter, but it was also a manly one, and may here be given in full.

U. S. M. A., West Point, Jan. 23,1826.

HOXORABLE JaS. BaRBOUR,

Sir: The regulations govemine: the Academy prescribe: that in case a cadet, feeling himself aggrieved by the authorities immediately over him, applies to the superintendent for relief, and is by him refused, such cadet may then appeal to the Department of War through the hands of the superintendent, whose duty it shall be to forward the appeal to the Secretary of War for his examination and order thereon. Being one of those individuals coming vmder the provision of the above article, I proceed now to submit my grievance, together with other facts, which it will be first necessary to state.

For many years past, it has been customary" wiih. the great majority of such cadets as were engaged in drawing either to place the paper, on which they intended to di*aw a piece, over the copy representing it, and thereby seeing the principal points or lines, to dot or trace them on said paper, or to aiTive at the same by measurmg distances with strips of paper, pencils, etc. Establishing thus the most remarkable objects, they sketch oft" the rest from sight. This practice being detrimental to the progress of the classes in learning how to " sketch" was censured by the teacher, and finally prohibited by an order from the superintendent. So much, however, was added to the appearance of their drawings by such means that cadets were willing to risk violating the

order, and ready to abide by the consequences, provided each suffered in proportion to the magnitude of his offense.

In the order of the superintendent alluded to, it was stated that an improper advantage was taken of their fellows, by those using those means. To this it was answered that since the practice was of such long standing, so general that it might be called universal, and since they traced without the semblance of secrecy toward each other, its criminality was lessened to almost nothing, and their perfect openness seemed very little like a wish on their part to defraud those thus looking at them. At the late examination, the Academic Staff — by what law or authority it is difficult to conceive — authorized a committee of its body to send for particular individuals of the drawing-classes, and to ask them, if perchance guilty, to convict themselves, by their own confessions, of an infraction of regulations. Accordingly, of those called on, consisting of about half the second and one of the tlm-d class, but two or three denied that they had either "traced" or "measured," two refused to answer at all; the rest acknowledged that they had done either the one or the other, or both, stating that it had been general, and, so far as our knowledge extended, always practiced. I, who was one of this number, appealed to the assistant teacher who was near at hand, and who had himself but lately been a cadet. He very readily testified to the fact.

Of those who confessed, one Avas placed fifth, two or three distributed among those not called on, the remainder arranged in order at the foot of the class. Of those who refused one alone was found deficient; the other, who was last year second in his class in drawing, and now stands deservedly among the first draftsmen in the corps, was absolutely put foot of the whole, — he who was deficient excepted of course. Upon what grounds the gentleman placed so high was assigned there is entirely unaccountable, since he acknowledged to the Staff he had either measured or traced the whole of his pieces, more or less, whilst others culpable in a far less degree were placed much below him. On what principle, it may be equally well asked, did they give the gentleman placed foot,

his standing ? Had he pleaded guihy of the charges alleged against him, they must at least, by the rule ■which seems to have governed them, have placed him at the head of those who did plead guilty ; the very reverse has occurred, he has been imt foot. "We are then left to the conclusion, that in placing him so low they sought rather to punish him for his refusal than to render to him his just merit.

That of which I particularly complain is, that select individuals only were suspected and called on, and that the whole were not placed on the same footing, especially since it teas known, because it was told, that the practice was general. After the pubheation of the rule assigning us our places, several who thought that duty to themselves requii'ed they should ask the superintendent to put the remainder of the class to the same test, in order that equal justice should be distributed to all, did so. His reply amounted to this: Generally, if applications Avere made to him during the examinations, he would submit them to the Academic Board: since, Jiotcever, the examination had closed, he did not think projper to reassemble the Board. Submission therefore was the only alternative.

Such a refusal could not have been expected. The petition was simply for justice and an equality of priAoleges, which we were unquestionably entitled to and shoiild have received. It will probably be said the reason why the rest of the class were not questioned was, that it might lead to the necessity of recalling the published roll and issuing a new one, thereby setting a pi'oeedent dangerous to the future quiet of the institution. In this I grant thei'e is plausibility. Yet if it be once established that this precedent shall never be set aside, that a roll of merit once made public shall never be altered, how far could not the Academic Staff go in any system of persecution they might choose to adopt ? If ever there was a time for investigation, this is it. Not one or two individuals only have been injured by this act, but the liaK of a class. We have pursued the opposite course: gone to the superintendent for satisfaction, who has received us as stated. I therefore, sir, claim of you that protection and redress which

is as due to me as I confidently trust it will be readily rendered by you.

With sentiments of high respect, etc.,

Cadet Leonidas Polk.

To Honorable James Barbour, Secretary of War.

Leonidas had no concealments from his father on this subject. On February 8th he wrote as follows:

U. S. M. A., West Point, Feb. 8,1826. Dear Father: The examination closed on Saturday, twenty-first ult., with that of my section in philosophy. By the report of the Board I have been declared fifth in that branch, as also in chemistry. My standing- in di-awing, the remaining subject of my course, is thirty-second. In regard to this latter I feel it incumbent on me to state that it is as unjust as it is injurious to my general standing in the institution. In order that you should ujiderstand why it is of such a nature, I have thought proper to send you the accompanying copy of a letter addressed by me to the Secretary of War, which Colonel Thayer, through wliose hands it must necessarily pass, has assured me he would transmit. That I, as well as others therein stated, have been wronged, is as certain as that we have existence. And I do not despair, notwithstanding the repeated assurances of the colonel to the contrary, lest my letter should fail to produce the desu-ed effect. Doubtless he Avill urge on the Department strong reasons to support the course he has taken, predicated, I presume, on the " good of the institution." He sent for me on the night following the morning on which I handed him my letter to come to his house. It was for the purpose of suggesting an alteration in his reply to me, on the day I called on him for a redress of my grievance, which reply was a part of the letter to the Secretary. The alteration desired, not affecting the object of my \\Titing, was, after some conversation, acceded to and inserted. This will account for the disfigured appearance of that part of the copy. During all our conversation, which afterward turned on other things connected with this matter.

he seemed desirous to be thouf;:ht in a very <;o(k1 Immor. Once forgetting' himself, I suppose, he acknowledged that oversight may have been made by the committee whose duty it was to determine the merit in drawing, as they made great despatch in this examination, with the view of closing it on one day. This, I told him, was a very forcible argument in favor of a reinspection of the drawings. He would not consent that such should be done, but observed that as to my case he would make inquiry of the committee, and if he found that certain pieces of mine had not been considered (and I am confident they were not, as, if they were, my whole class wiU, witliout hesitation, say that the gi'eatest injustice has been done me), he would then let me know what course he should pursue. Since then I have not seen him, to ask for the result of his inquiiy, though from him I feel afraid that no satisfaction can be derived. I am now waiting for the issue of my complaint to the Secretary. Many others of my class have wi-itten like letters to members of Congress requesting their aid and influence in procuring an investigation. Senator Johnson, of Kentucky, in reply to Cadet Bibb's request, has promised his aid, and observed that he had often tliought that cadets were frequently unjustly oppressed. Such iujustice as has been thus exemplified needs, I have thought, only to be plainly shown to be plainly seen, so that I have represented the whole affaii', as well for as against myself, in as plain and forcible manner as I could to the Secretary alone. If justice lias not given place to military or rather despotic notions of bhnd obedience in all cases, I may hope for my proper merit. Wm. Baylow is tenth in mathematics and sixth in French.

The action of the Secretary of War was what might have been expected. The conelusiou of the matter is stated in a letter dated April 2, 1826.

West Point, April 2, 1826. My dear Father: I have received your letter on the subject of my standing in drawing, etc., and 1 am happy in being

able to state that before its receipt, having heard from the Secretary of War, whose decision was against me, I had pursued the course therein advised by you. The Secretary noticed our complaints in orders. He approved the course of the Board, and concluded by solacing us with the idea of there being between the date of our complaints and the next ensuing examination six months, and by exhorting us during that period diligently to apply ourselves, adding that at its expiration " we would receive such standings as an impartial decision should award."

For this I was not prepared. I did not (as did many) expect he would annul the proceeding of the Board, and give us new standings by the aid of others whom he might select; or that he would at all reflect on their decisions, — at least, if he should, it would never be known to us. If he did anything, of which I had my doubts, that, I believed, would be to instruct, or rather request, the Board of Visitors in turn to have questioned all of the members of the class relative to ti'acing, and have their answers considered in making out the standing. This would have been a kind of compromise, would have secured to us our just rights, and allowed the Board and others a fair opportunity of judging of our merits. He thought fit, however, to decide otherwise, and if most of us could wield our quills with as full power as does any experienced engraver his carving-knife, we would be unable, from the blow we received in January, to reach in June anything like oui' proper places. From considerations such as those mentioned by you, and from a firm conviction of the propriety of such a course, and worse than folly of any other, I determined to abide tacitly by the decision of the Secretary, not at all, however, shaken in my opinions in regard to the matter. I am aware of the high estimation in which the Staff and supei'intendent in particular are held by the government, and know consequently the difficulty I had to contend with in making my complaint. I felt aggrieved; the Regulations of the Academy point out a course to those thus situated. I pursued that course, and the highest authority by them recognized having

decided against me, I did not conceive the gi'ievance so oppressive as to require either a further appeal or pi'ocedure of any kind. My general merit may, and doubtless will, be affected materially by my standing in drawing. It should be certainly the desire of every young man to aim at a respectable position among his fellow-students, wherever he may be put to school. Such is my wisli, as much or more, I need not add, on others' account than my own.

Five years after graduation will obliterate the fact of an individual's standing here or there, or, if it is recollected, it will be said, perhaps, that he obtained it for having a knack at small things, great i)lodding, and the like. These considerations, aided by your own opinions and advice, have jiut to rest all my cares about the affair, and I am now progressing as cheerfully as though I were first.

The philosophical indifference to his disappointment ■which the yonng cadet assumed in writing to his father ■was far from real. He had no confidence that the -vvrong ■would be righted. He felt that the class distinction which he had fairly won had been unjustly w^rested from him. He continued to work steadily and resolutely, but he was deeply mortified, and he was stUl more deeply indignant. He brooded over his disaster with gloomy forebodings, and wondered what might be in store for him in a world in which a venial fault may cost the coveted reward of years of faithful labor. Sitting moodily in his room one night, he cast about for something to distract his thoughts. In his table drawer he found a tract; and the reading of that tract changed the whole course of his after-life.

It was just about a year since a new chaplain, who was also professor of ethics, had appeared at the Academy. He was a new cliaplain in more senses than one, for never before had officers or cadets heard such sermons as lie addressed to them. Dr. Charles Pettit Mcll-

vaine, afterward Bishop of Ohio, was then at the zenith of his powers, of a tall and majestic person, lofty but gracious in bearing, in countenance not unlike idealized portraits of Wasliington. His voice was powerful and penetrating, but melodious; his gesture perfect and therefore apparently unstudied; his manner in the pidpit fuU of earnestness. He had gone to West Point from Washington, where oratory was both practiced and appreciated, and it was not in vain that Dr. Mcllvaine had heard such orators as Webster and Hayne, Burgess and Calhoun. General Crafts J.Wright, who was then at West Point, thus deseriljes the impression he made at his first appearance as the chaplain of the Academy: "On the first Sunday of Dr. Mcllvaine's preaching at West Point the cadets went to chapel, as usual, some with books to read, and others hoping to sleep, but none expecting to take any interest in the sermon. Had a bugle been sounded in the chapel they could not have been more astonished. Books were dropped, sleep was forgotten, attention was riveted. There was general surprise and gratification. From that day on the chaplain's influence grew more and more powerful, until at length the whole corps was roused as by a thunder-clap at the announcement that Leonidas Polk and others had been ' converted,' and that Polk was to lead a ' praying squad' in the prison, which was the only unoccupied and quiet room in the barracks. I and many others stood on the stoop to see them go by and find out who they were. Polk, calm and fearless, with earnest anxiety in his look, headed the squad of ' converted' men. From day to daj' the number increased, and finally it became so large that they were obliged, for want of room, to adjourn to the chapel. There was a veritable revolution in the barracks and the corps of cadets."

The story of these remarkable events may best perhaps be told in the language (somewhat condensed) of Bishop Mcllvaine himself.

"When I began duty as chaplain and professor of ethics, the late Bisliop Polk was a cadet in his third year. I had no knowledge of him except as one of the congregation to whom I preached, until circumstances of a veiy interesting kind brought him to my house.

" The condition of the Academy was far from encouraging. There was not one ' professor of religion' among the officers, military or civil. Several of them were friendly to the efforts of the chaphxin, others were decidedly the reverse. Of the cadets not one was known to make any profession of interest in religion. Among cadets, officers, and instructors there was a great deal of avowed infidelity, but my venerable and beloved friend, Colonel Sylvanus Thayer, then commanding officer, though not a communicant of any church, must be understood, with others of the officers, to be untouched by these remarks.

" I had been laboring for nearl}'- a year without the sUghtest encouragement. Not a cadet had called to see me. I knew them only as I met them in my class or saw them as a congregation. They seemed to feel that it would be regarded as a profession of interest in religion to come to me. One of them, whose father had requested him to become acquainted with me, was afraid (as he afterward told me) to do so until after his father's death. In the deepest of my discouragement, when I had just concluded a series of discourses on the e^i-dences of Cliristianity without any known effect, this cadet came to my study. He introduced himseK by saying that his father had recently died, and he was ashamed to say that si foolisli fear had kept liim from

coming to see me. Before he left me I put a tract into his hand. ' This/ I said, ' is for you.' It was addressed to a person in affliction. Another was addressed to an unbeUever. ' Take this,' I said, and ' drop it somewhere in the barracks; perhaps I shall hear of it again.' He smiled, and said he would do as I asked. A Aveek passed, and I had forgotten the tract, but the following Saturday afternoon came another cadet. As I took his hand, he said, ' My name is Polk,' and could say no more. I led him to a chair. He was still silent, as if he feared to speak lest he should not control his feelings. Suj)pos-ing he had got into trouble with the authorities of the institution, I asked him to trust me as a friend and tell me his burden. Then he burst into the most feeling and intense expression of a mind convinced of sin, and earnestly begged to be told what he must do for salvation. He had conversed with nobody. There was no man there but his minister who could have comprehended his state of mind. I asked him how it came. He answered, 'I picked up a tract in my room; who put it there I do not know.' It was the tract I had sent at a venture. Then he said that the discourses on the evidences had made a certain impression on his mind, which had been in a degree skeptical; then, having heard I had caused a number of copies of Dr. Olynthus Gregory's ' Letters on the Evidences' to be brought to West Point and deposited with the quartermaster, he had obtained a copy. That book had strengthened his impressions, but he was not aware to what extent the truth had taken hold of him till he had read the tract. His docility and ]niml)leness of spirit were very striking. " After I had given him instruction and prayed with him, he became tranquil and began to speak of his circumstances. His would be the first known instance in

part0002

the history of the Academy of a cadet having come out and taken position as a follower of Christ. He considered how he would be wondered at and observed, and by some ridiculed; he deeply felt the need of the greatest circumspection and of strength from above, lest he should not walk consistently with the new life on which he now sought to enter. Next morning he would attend divine worship as he had never attended before. It would get abroad in the corps that this great change had come over his mind. He would be watched in the chapel. He reflected that no cadet had ever knelt in the service, and, so far as was remembered, no officer, professor, or instructor. The chapel was then so small that the cadets sat on benches without backs, and were so crowded together that it was difficult for any one to kneel. He asked me what he ought to do, not having the slightest idea of shrinking from a duty, and yet modest and not wishing to make himself unnecessaril}' an object of observation. I said he had better begin at once. The next day, when the confession in the service came, I could hear his movement to get space to kneel, and then his deep tone of response, as if he were trembling with new emotion; and then it seemed as if an impression of solemnity pei"vaded the congregation. It was a new sight, that single kneeling cadet. Such a thing had not been supposed to be possible.

" It pleased God that this, though the first, was not the only instance. Cadets and officers afterward told me that if I had chosen one man out of the whole corps, whose example w^ould have the greatest effect on the minds of his comrades, I should have chosen him. In the com-se of a week, one and another, strangers to me, came on the same errand, each vnthout previous com-municati<ni with any one until he went to Cadet Polk

and asked to be introduced to me. I found it necessary to have meeting's for them twice or thrice a week in my house for instruction and prayer. Soon the number of cadets, with some professors and instructors, was so great as wholly to occupy the largest room I had, and in the case of almost every cadet who came his chosen introducer was Leonidas Pollv, the first-born of these many brethren.

" Forty days after his first interview with mc, Cadet Polk was baptized in the chapel, in the presence of the corps and an unusually large attendance of officers and professors. Another cadet, W. B. Magruder, who still hves, was baptized at the same time. The service of adult baptism had never been witnessed there before, and the circumstances made it an occasion of intense interest. At its conclusion I addressed a few words of exhortation to the two young men, ending with the sentence, ' Pray your Master and Saviour to take you out of the world rather than allow you to bring reproach on the cause you have now professed.' Then there came out of the depths of Polk's heart an ' Amen' which spoke to every other heart in the congregation. It is only lately that I received a letter from a gentleman, a stranger to me. When he had heard of the death of Bishop Polk, he remembered spending a Sunday at West Point in the beginning of 1826 and attending a service in the chapel when I baptized two cadets. He recollected the very words of the close of my address, and said that one of the cadets, whose name was Polk, had responded witli a deep-toned 'xVmen' which still sounded in his ears."

Shortly after his baptism Cadet Polk was appointed orderly sergeant on an occasion and with a purpose which showed the esteem in which he was held by his superiors. The members of the oldest class had been in

the habit of lying in bed at early roll-call, and had eonie to assert some sort of traditional right to be reported as present. The authorities endeavored to correct this l)reach of discipline, but had found that it could not be broken up without the assistance of orderlies who could not be induced to swerve from the line of duty even by the public opinion of the whole corps of cadets. Such men, it was believed, were now to be found among the chaplain's converts. Two were chosen, and one of them was Polk. The chaplain heard of it, and, being desu-ous of having an explicit acknowledgment of the reason of the appointment, he took his stand one day beside his friend. Colonel Thayer, when the companies were marching out to the evening parade. As they approached, the chaplain said, " Colonel, why have you selected those two cadets for orderly sergeants? As for Polk, I do not wonder; he's a fine-looking fellow and marches well; but the other is a mere slouch." "The truth is," answered the colonel, " we had to take them. I thought these two young men could be relied upon to do their duty at all hazards." His judgment was justified by the event. The new orderlies were cajoled and threatened; and at last the alternative was plainly put to them, that they must either resign or allow the traditionary practice to go on. They quietly answered that neither course would be right, and that they meant to do their duty. They did it accordingly, and after a while they had no difficulty.

As might have been expected, the young convert felt it to be his duty to communicate to his father an account of the change which had occm-red in the motives and ambitions of his life. After stating as clearly as he could the reasons which had convinced him of the truth of the Christian religion, he proceeded to tell of the se-

vere struggle which it had cost him to take up his cross by placing himself under the direction of his chaplain, Dr. Mcllvaine, and of the peace which he had enjoyed after taking that step. It is significant to find that his warmth of religious fervor was accompanied by an equal warmth of family affection, which led him at the same time to urge that he might be permitted to take a furlough and return home. Of his \'isit to Mr. Mcllvaine he said:

This step was my most trying one. To bring myself to renounce all of my former habits and associations; to step forth singly fi'om among the whole corps, acknowledging my convictions of the truth of the holy religion which I had before derided and was now anxious to embrace; and to be put up, as it were, as a mark for the observations of others, — were trials whicL, unaided by the consolations of the Bible, humble and fervent prayer, and above all by the strong hand of Him who is all-powerful to shield and protect all such as do earnestly desire to make their peace with Him, I should have sunk under and again fallen back upon the world. By the especial favor of Divine Providence, however, I was so strengthened as to continue my efforts, heedless of all opposition, and can now freely say that rather than relinquish the prospect before me, or yield aught of that hope which cheers me in every duty, I would suffer such torture for centuries, though it were increased a thousandfold, since I have found my mind at ease, and fortified against the opinions of the ■world. I do not find the duties of reUgion of that gloomy, insipid, and austere character that those of the world conceive they possess; so far from it, that I am clearly convinced that the most happy man on earth is he who practices most faithfully the duties of Christianity. Since I have entered on my new, and I earnestly hope permanent, course of life, six others of the corps have successively come forward after the same manner, and we hope for a further increase. The colonel is very well disposed toward religion, and has kindly

granted us permission to attend, with some of the professors and others, at Mr. Mcllvaine's nightly meetings for purposes of worship. We are now more settled, and are progressing as well as attendant circumstances will permit.

These alterations have, as you may well conceive, caused others in my plans for the ensuing encampment. I wrote vou some time since the reasons inducing me to I'emain on the Point until I should graduate without obtaining a im:-lough. Your own request was one and the chief; and this I hope you will, at my earnest solicitation, now withdraw, as I would be extremely glad to visit you and the family on the coming vacation. I have spoken to Colonel Thayer about it, and am induced to behave from what he told me, that he woidd not press the objection stated by him some time since as to artillery practice. He has laid it down as a rule not to give a definite answer to such apphcations until after the time specified in the Reg-ulations for making them (viz., the 1st of June), but told me I might make my apphcation. It is necessary to have the consent of om- parents to accompany the application. I would be obliged to you, therefore, if you would write to Colonel Thayer yourself, and request him to grant the permission I want. I have postponed writing you so long that my letter and your answer will hardly have time to be exchanged before the time for apphcation shall have arrived. Will you please, at the same time, send me the necessary funds. I have some debts, not of large amount, that I should Uke to discharge, I need not, my dear father, add anything as to when, where, and how often I remember you, my dear mother, brothers, sisters, friends and all.

Yom- truly affectionate son,

Leonidas.

Colonel Polk was not himself a religious man, and he was troubled at the intelligence of his son's conversion, fearing that he might have been carried away by a momentary enthusiasm. His feai's were, of course, expressed in his reply to the letter which he had received

from Leonidas, and he was doubtless somewhat reassured by the following letter:

West Point, June 5,1826. My dear Father: I have received your letter in answer to my last, with feelings, as you may well suppose, of deep regret, seeing from it that I had been the cause of uneasiness to the family. I can now realize more clearly the feelings with which it impressed you when read. I am truly sorry that I shoidd have been unable to repress the expression of my own, when under such excitement. At the time I wrote, my mind was in a state of gi-eat distraction. This of itself disqualified me for writing with coolness, or dispassionately. But when to this is added the natural warmth, and, I hope, tenderness, of my affections toward my parents, and the solicitude I had for them, as also for the rest of my relatives and friends, I trust, my dear father, you will make every aUow-ance for the overflowing of a heart thus filled with emotions of the hveliest regard. To be now the source of pain to any individual would to me be exceedingly painful ; and doubly painful would it be to offend, in the least, those to whom I am by so many ties most endearingly bound. I have seized this, the first opportunity since the receipt of yours in which I thought I could say to you those things which I felt as I wished. They have weighed, I cannot refrain from repeating, heavily on me and often since your letter reached me; but I shicerely trust that whatever cares my former letter may have created may by this time be removed, and I shall, as soon as I can have arranged my affairs after the examinations, set off, by God's permission, for home and the bosom of my family, which having reached, it is my hope that I shall be enabled to institute, instead of care, consolation. The check on the Mechanics' Bank was enclosed, and, with what I shall be entitled to for the time in which I shall be absent, will be amply sufficient, as far as I can judge, to pay my debts and expenses home. I have spoken to the colonel as to my furlough, which he has kindly granted, acknowledging at the same time the receipt of your letter. He says I

can leave here about the 20th inst. I shall then probably reach home about the 1st of July or sooner.

Our examination commenced, on to-day, under the inspection of a lara^e number of the Board of Visitoi's. T expect to be taken up in the course of the two following weeks in both branches of my coui'se, and shall pass, I hope, at least a creditable examination.

The furlough spent at home in 1826 was a time of very gi'eat happiness both to Leonidas and to his father. It was not to be expected that Colonel Pollc should sympathize with his son's feeling's, but it was not possible either to doubt his sincerity or not to respect the strength of Ms convi(;tions and the modest firmness of his resolution. In due time Leonidas returned to West Point, and engaged with greater industry perhaps than ever in the prosecution of his studies. In a letter written during the following winter he laments the difficulty of pursuing the higher branches, even of a military education, as far as he would like, and expresses particular regret that literature should be almost entii-ely neglected. " For the interests of the xVcademy and the country," he says, " it is gi-eatly to l)e desired that the Board of Visitors would add to the course another year, in which polite learning should at least be taught, if not exclusively. For my own part, I would more i-eadity spend my fifth year in a course of reading than in doing the duties of a lieutenant." A little later he urges this point somewhat more explicitly. He says: "My classical education is imperfect. My knowledge of history, and indeed of most l^ooks aside from my text-books, is exceedingly limited; and I feel great unwillingness to close my eyes to all this life while only an effort is wanting to its enjoynu'ut." He therefore asks his fathei-'s permission to accept the professorship of the mathe

matical and physical sciences in a new institution whicli was about to be founded in Massachusetts, and which has since become famous as Amherst College. This position had been tendered to him unsought, at the instance and by the recommendation of Colonel Thayer, who had now become his fast friend. The salary offered was moderate, but sufficient in those times for his comfortable support.^ The duties of the professorship, he said, would occupy only about three hours a day, and would leave him ample time to prosecute his own studies with the assistance of his colleagues of the faculty. He urged in favor of the acceptance of this position that it would enable him to be of special service to his brothers Rufus and Washington, who might be with him at Amherst, and over whom he could have a brotherly oversight. He said he had considered the obligation resting upon him to remain for a year in the army after his graduation, and had come to the conclusion that he was bound by it only in case the government declined to release him. " The engagement was," he said, " that I should consider myself its servant for a term of five years, unless it sooner discharged me. If, therefore, I knew or supposed it to be ready to grant such discharge, there could certainly be nothing wrong in making the application. I have consulted the superintendent concerning it. He thinks my views are correct, and that no obhgation rests on me to abstain from applying for a discharge should I desire one."

For various reasons Colonel Polk was not inclined to sanction the adoption of the course proposed, and Leou-idas unhesitatingly relinquished it; but in so doing he announced his intention to enter the ministrj^ of the

1 Eight hundred, dollars eschisive of all charges for board, room, servant, etc.

Cliiu'ch, and begged that he might have the approbation of his parents in adopting that profession. He said:

Witli you I concur in the opinion that it is the part of wisdom in a young man just entering into Ufe not to post pone to a protracted period the choice of that profession oi' settled plan of life to which he means to devote himself. Certainly no step is more important, or of more commanding-influence over one's future happiness, and therefore none requires a more calm consideration. I have long time and often had the subject before me, and, divesting myself of every bias, have repeatedly surveyed the whole field of human avocation to find out that course through w^hich interest and inclination shoidd direct me to proceed, and I am happy in being able clearly to pronounce my search has not been fruitless, as I am fully persuaded that the ministry is the profession to which I shoidd devote myself. It has occurred to you, doubtless, that I would probably look to this, either of my own accord or at the instance of others. And lest an impression should be made upon you that I have followed the counsels of others rather than exercised my own judgment, I will here remark that it has been my studious effort to withdraw myself from everything of that character, in order that, whatever my conclusions might be, they should be entirely the result of my own labors. And especially have I desired this, as the ministry was one of the professions under consideration ; for of all others this is that on which we should enter urged alone by our own imaided inehnation. This, therefore, is the one of my choice. I feel that in the exercise of its functions I should find my greatest happiness, and this is the gTound of the selection.

That it may meet the approbation of yourself and mother, is the earnest prayer of

Yoi;r truly affectionate son,

Leonidas Polk.

This announoement w-as a serions disappointment to

Colonel Polk, wlio had lioju'd that Ijoonidas might con-

tiiiue the military traditions of the family, and perhaps achieve distinction as a soldier. His chief fear, however, seems to have been that the lad might be carried away by the enthusiasm of youth into a profession to which he was unsuited, and he wisely urged that a final decision should be postponed until after Leonidas should have graduated and should have spent some time in travel. To this his son dutifully agreed. '' In reference to my determination as to an occupation for life," he wrote, " I can only repeat that it has not been the work of a moment, but of leisurely consideration. I will forbear, however, from further mentioning it antil I have complied with your wishes."

During the remainder of his term at West Point young Polk was in charge of the class of cadets which had just been entered at the Academy; and it was the desire of Colonel Thayer and of the instructor in tactics that he should remain with the corps, after his graduation, in the capacity of quartermaster. His final examinations were passed with credit, and, notwdthstanding the misfortune of the previous year, his name appeared eighth in the merit roll, which entitled him to expect a commission in the artillery. On July 4, 1827, he was graduated. In August, by his father's desire, and for the improvement of his health, which for some time had been impaired by hard study and by an acquired delicacy of constitution, he entered on a course of travel in New England, Canada, New York, and Pennsylvania, arriving in Tennessee in the beginning of October. His observations of men and things during this journey were communicated to his father in a series of interesting letters, in one of which he describes a raih'oad which he saw in Massachusetts. His description of it is as follows .•

Quebec, L. C, August 22,1827. Mrj dear Father: As I anticipated, I left Mcjutreal on the day before yesterday, and reached this 25lace on last evening. Among other things of interest in Boston and its vicinity, I saw a railroad. The object for Avhich it was first projected was to V)ring from a bed of granite near Quincy, about nine miles from Boston, stone to build the Bunker Hill monument. Its whole extent is about 3i miles, fi'om the bed to a canal leading to the sea. The inclination of the rails is about one in 20 inches, which enables a horse to draw an almost incredible weight with much ease. The construction is simple. It is the object fii'st to get the uniform inclination, which is done in the ordinary way, of cutting down hills and filliug valleys, either with the excavated earth or bridges of stone or wood. This done, pieces of stone about 18 inches square and 7 feet long are laid lengthwise across the road at intervals of nearly 6 feet; these are embedded or not as occasion requires. Resting on these are laid timbers of about a foot square, for the wheels to run on. These last of common pine. Oak strips are laid on these, and on the strips bars of iron are fastened, to secure the whole, and form a smooth surface for the wheels. The wagons are of stout make, with all the wheels of the same size, so that in going down they hitch on at one end, and shift to the other when retm-ning. The stone is either carried on the body of the wagon or suspended beneath, as occasion requires. To prevent the wheels from slipping off, pieces of flat iron are nailed on the inside of the fellies and project beyond the tire about an inch, (a) is a section of the rim of the wheel, that is, of the felly, tire and inside band, and [h) of that on which it runs, or of the pine timber, oak strip, and iron bar. The work has cost an

J)

immense deal of money, owing to want of skill on the part of its projectors and those employed in the execution. It will, it is thought, though, in the course of time pay for itself and become profitable stock, as the article which passes over it has become popular as a building material.

While at Boston he visited the residence of the kite President Adams at Quincy, which was then occupied by the family of Judge Thomas Adams.

I rode out to Quincy, the residence of the late President Adams. It is about nine miles from Boston toward Providence. The village of Quincy is about the size of Louisburg in Franklin, Ct., though more open in its suburbs, and neat in its construction. About a mile from its center is the house of Mr. Adams. I had pictured to myself a fine country-seat, occupying an eminence, surrounded with groves, orchards, and woodland, with all the appurtenances of such a place, as the probable residence I was to see, but found a plain, oblong, two-story, white house, with dormer windows, near the road, surrounded with fine shade-trees and fields for three quarters of a mile, at least. It is plain and comfortable, though nothing fine. The occupants are the family of Judge Thomas Adams, a son of the late President. He was very polite, and his lady particularly so. The house was shown us, with a great variety of paintings and busts, part of those owned by the President. The tomb of the family — or vault, rather — is in the town graveyard, near at hand, and contains his remains. It is simple. A mound of earth, with a door of slate-stone at one end, fastened with a common padlock, constitutes the whole.

At Albany Mr. Polk paid his respects to Mr. Van Buren, whose son had been one of his classmates, and from whom he had a letter of introduction to his father. Of this visit he said: " The first day I was in Albany he had company, Mr. Ritchie, the editor, and his family, and others from Virginia dining with him — I called in the afternoon — and as I was desirous of getting on to the Lakes and Canada, I did not remain another day. I shall likely meet him again on his western tour in Rochester."

In Tennessee he visited his friends and relatives, and dined with General Jackson. In wr-iting to his father

he says: " I dined with u party of ladies aud gentlemen at General Jackson's about ten days since, and found the old general and his lady both as courteous as I could have wished. He entertains as easily as he well could, thou2:h he seems to bo immersed in business."

Ho was now bent upon resigning his commission, and was desirous to do so before his furlough should expire. Ho therefore wrote to his father asking his approval of that step. He said:

My intention at the time of setting out on the tour I have taken was to have comi:)leted it, spent some time vith bi'others Lucius, William, and Thomas each, and reached home two or three weeks before the 25th of October, at which time my furlough expires. This I wished to do to comply with a wish expressed by Ma, that I should see you before I resigned my commission, and my object vas, should it meet youi" approbation, to resign before my furlougli expired.

In pursuance of this intention, I made due haste from the outset, not delaying anywhere longer than I could see all that was worthy of observation, and at times declining civilities which, under other circumstances, I should have been glad to have received. I did not perceive, until I got into Pennsylvania, that it would be impossible for me to meet my object, or, if I did, I should have to make vexy short stays both with my brothers and at home, and as I apprehended no difficulty in obtaining your consent to my resigning, I thouglit it best to give over the original plan, forward my resignation through you, aud take my time in getting home. This, I hope, will meet your approbation. My resignation accompanies this. It is dated Raleigh, m order that I may receive an answer at that place.

With his father's reluctant consent, but without his positive approval. Lieutenant Polk's resignation was forwarded to the Secretary of War, by Avhom it was accepted, and he prepared to enter upon his studies for the ministrv.

CHAPTER III.

THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AND EUROPEAN TRAVELS.

1828 TO 1832.

Sacrifices in entering the ministry. — Opposition of Colonel Polk to his son's leaving the army. — Filial reverence. — Engaged to Miss Devereux. — Enters the Seniiiiary at Alexandria. — Meeting of General Jackson and Colonel Polk. — Mission work around Alexandria. — Visits President Adams. — Meets Henry Clay. — Visit to the Houses of Congress. — Visits James K. Polk. — The Colonization Society. — Favors deportation of negroes to Africa. — The spoils system. — Letter to Dr. Mcllvaine. — Ordained deacon. — Marriage to Miss Devereux. — Engages in the cure of the Monumental Church, Richmond. — First sermon. — Illness from overwork. — Death of Hamilton Polk. — Sympathetic letter to Colonel Polk. — Resigns position at Richmond. — Ordained priest. — Continued ill-health. — Horseback tour in Virginia. — Sails for Europe. — Reaches Paris. — TraveUng in France. — A Paris mob. — Leaves Paris for Brussels. — Passing the custom-house at the Dutch lines. — A sprig of royalty. — Fellenberg's school at Hofroyl. — Tlu-ough Switzerland and across the Alps into Italy. — Rome. — Custom-house experience in Naples. — A fashionable statue of Washington. — A royal dairyman. — Nice. — Preaches to sailors at Leghorn. — Return to Paris. — A plague-stricken city. — An attack of cholera. — Arrival in England. — From London to Cambridge. — King's Chapel, Cambridge. — Epping Forest and its annual stag-hunt. — Cockney sportsmen. — Opinion on negro slavery. — Oxford. — English breakfasts. — English reverence. — New College Chapel — Thoughts on a cathedral service. — The Liverpool and Manchester Railway.

From the time when Leoiiidas Polk had deliberately arrived at a f^onvietion that it was his duty to enter the ministry of the Church, his purpose to take that step remained unshaken; but it must not be supposed that the step he was about to take involved no sacrifice. He

88 ENGAGEMENT TO MISS DEVEliEUX. [1828

was just of ag(', tall, conimanding in appearance, and after his successful career at the Academy there lay be-foi'e him every prospect of distinction in an honorable profession for which he was thoroughly prepared and in which he might hope to continue the military traditions of his family. His father, Colonel Polk, for whom Leon-idas entertained an unbounded reverence and admiration, strongly opposed his leaving the army, and in giving his final consent he did not conceal the reluctance with which he yielded to the wishes of his son. The filial reverence which Leonidas felt for his father was fully reciprocated in the feeling of profound respect which his? father entertained for him. Consequently there was no unhappiness between them; but, although Leonidas knew that he did not lie under his father's displeasure, it caused him deep ^rief to know that his leaving the army to enter the Church was a bitter disappointment to both his parents. Moreover, when still a child, he had fallen in love with one of his little playmates, Frances Devereux, of Raleigh, whom he had met again as an accomplished woman, and to whom he became formally engaged in the month of May, 1828. In after-years Mrs. Polk wrote: " I love to recall those days of the summer of 1828, just before he entered the seminary, when he read with me, talked with me, and took pains to direct my mind, which had for a while been entangled in a maze of perplexities and doubts." It was his earnest wish that their marriage should take place at once, and this desire would have doubtless been gratified if he had retained his commission in the army. But none of these things moved him from the coui'se to which he felt im-])('ll('d by an imperative sense of duty. After a brief emancipation fi-om the rigid discipline and constant lal)(»i of West Point, he ])re]iared to enter on a new

course of confinement in the studies of a theological seminary. He did indeed make an effort to induce Miss Devereux to marry Mm before he went there; but she saw that it would be unwise, and he, with great reluctance, yielded to her judgment. Once more leaving home, he began his studies for the ministry in the Seminary at Alexandria, November 4, 1828.

An amusing story of the suppressed aversion with which Colonel Polk regarded his son's change of profession was told by the late venerable Colonel E. G. "W. Butler in a letter dated July 8, 1882 :

" A few days before the inauguration of Andrew Jackson," says Colonel Butler, " I, his godson and ward, went to Washington, and, on entering his chamber at the National Hotel, I was introduced to his old friend, Colonel William Polk of North Carolina. Major Donaldson, private secretary of the President-elect, informed me that when Jackson and Polk met, a few moments before I entered, the general shook the colonel cordially by the hand and remarked, ' My dear old friend, how glad I am to see you ! I fancy I can see your red face during Tar-leton's raid upon the Waxhaw settlement, when you and I were running down the lane, closely pursued by the British cavah-y!' ^ In the course of the conversation Colonel Polk informed me that he had come to Washington to dance at the inaugural ball of his early friend; and I, recollecting that his son had graduated at the Military Academy, inquired, ' Colonel, where is your son Leonidas stationed ?' ' Stationed ?' he replied. ' Why, by thunder, sir, he's over there in Alexandria at the Seminary!'"

The period of Polk's probation as a candidate for orders passed uneventfully away in the Seminary. He

1 See Chapter I., page 32.

'JO STUDIES AT ALEXANDlilA. [1S28

made no attempt to make up for the disadvantage of his lack of a classical education by a serious study of the ancient languages. His efforts in that direction were limited to a somewhat superficial study of the Greek Testament and of the elements of Hebrew. To philosophy he seems to have paid no attention. His studies in ecclesiastical history were meager; in ecclesiastical polity they were merely nominal. He regarded the ministry as a sort of military service, in which the minister had simply to obey orders and deliver the Commandei-'s message. He was beset by no doubts of the Christian reh-gion; he took it for granted that the evangeUcalism of his beloved pastor, Mcllvaine, was the only true message of the gospel, and he applied himself with entire devotion to the study of evangelical theology. In after-years he outgTCw not a little of the narrowness of evangelicalism ; if he did not repudiate, he studiously ignored, Calvinism; and by a sort of sympathetic instinct he clearly apprehended and cordially embraced the idea of the historic constitution and corporate continuity of the Church. But at that time he sat at the feet of his instructors with an unquestioning confidence in the authority and sufficiency of their teachings, and his one anxiety was to prepare himself as soon as possible to teach the same things to others. His only relaxation while at the Seminary was in mission work in the neighborhood of Alexandria; and during his vacation his time w-as happily spent in explaining to his betrothed the evangelical truths which he himself had learned.

Throughout his Seminary course Mr. Polk kept up a constant correspondence \\dth his father, in which he WTote of persons and incidents in which he knew that his father would be interested, avoiding any special reference to his own pursuits, to which he knew that his

father had not yet become reconciled. Thus, on the day-after he had become permanently settled at the Seminary, he wrote as follows, describing the situation of the Seminary, mentioning a visit which he had made to the President, and a chance meeting- with Mr. Clay, regretting the condition of the White House, and referring playfully to the birth of his father's ninth son, for whom he apprehends some difficulty in finding a sufficiently heroic name.

Theological Seminary, Nov. 5, 1828.

I became permanently fixed at the Seminary on yesterday, and find the place and its advantages altogether such as I expected. The situation of the Seminary building, for commanding a wide and extensive range up and down the Potomac, including Alexandi-ia, Washington, and Georgetown, is one of the most beautiful (so say experienced travelers) in any country. We are about two miles off directly to the right from the river and from Alexandria, and about six or seven from Washington and Georgetown. The Capitol and President's house are very plainly seen from my window as I now sit writing. With the help of a glass, the '' members" may be seen going up into the building, though I don't know that they can be distinguished individually.

While in Washington during the session of the Education Society of our church, I called, with two other gentlemen, to see the President. We Avere ushered into a sort of antechamber until the servant could know if we could see him. While in waiting, Mr. Clay came out of the President's room, and gave those of us who had not before the pleasure of his acquaintance an opportunity of knowing him. Mr. Clay is a man of uncommonly imposing manners, tall, dignified, affable, eas3", and very intelligent looking; he received us with much grace. He inquired after your health, having first asked me if I was your son, and said he had the pleasure of traveling with you some years since, perhaps in Virginia. Mr. Adams, to whom we were soon after introduced, is as awkward as Mr. Clay is easy. He seems to have been in bad health. I

suppose perhaps the harassing electioneering toui* has wasted him away.

The buildings and grounds about the President's house geem going to destruction, and some of the rooms, one especially, has never been furnished. It is a broad, long room and looks more Hke parsimony in the government than anything I have ever seen.

By a letter from Mary I heard of the amval of my little brother, and as General Jackson is the last of the line of heroes and sages, I fear he will find some difficulty in getting a name!

Later on he expresses his satisfaction that a suitable name for his infant brother has been found, and describes a visit to Washington:

Theological Seminary, Nov. 21,1828.

I have received youi" letter of the 10th, and one from Ma of the same date also. I think the name Charles Adams very suitable, — more so, perhaps, than any other, especially as that side of the house seems to have been neglected. I am glad too that he is a son, — not that I have objection to ha\'ing sisters, but there seems to be less difficulty and risk in the education and lives of boys than girls. Nine sons, too, make up a goodly number.

About two weeks since I was in Washington for a short time. The Houses were in session. It was the first time I had ever seen them sitting. Mr. Stephenson, the Speaker of the House, seemed to preside with a good deal of dignity and dispatch of business. In his manner not unlike Mr. B. Yancey, I think, — quick, and sometimes hasty. The Speaker of the other House — Mr. Smith, I think — is, on the contrary, easy and rather tame. He is an old and venerable-looking man. While in the House I heai*d a member introduce and speak on a resolution '' to appoint a commission for each State in the Union, to ascertain what works of internal improvement were necessary, and annually to report to Congress the result of the inquiries." I did not know who he was. He was a

young member, of prominent cheek-bones, face altogether strongly marked, hght hair, of a stentorian voice, which made the hall ring, or rather thunder, and of a gesticulation strong and powerful as a blacksmith's. I heard afterward he was Mr. Chilton of Kentucky.

James K. Polk [afterward elected President of the United States] I met in the avenue. He has his wife and sister OpheMa with him. They belong to a mess with several of the Louisburg delegation, with whom I spent the evening. They are all exceedingly gratified at the result of the Presidential election,! of course, and James thinks he will probably leave public life after the general's term of service expires. He says none of the friends of the general have the smallest idea who he will appoint to fill his Cabinet offices.

At that time the Colonization Society was making a iiol)le but nnsuccessfnl attempt to grapple with the slavery problem. Like many other Sonthern men, j\Ir. Polk was in hearty sympathy with the objects of the society, and fully expressed his views of it in a letter to Ills father:

January 21, 1829. I went last Saturday to Washington, to the annual meeting of the Colonization Society. The day — or rather the night — ■ was rainy and the meeting, which took place at six P.M., was not so well attended as usual. A report of the Board of Managers was read, showing the colony to be more flourishing than it has ever been, and as much so as the means of the society, though greatly increased, would allow. They have had an accession of territory, and emigi-ants are on better tenns with the neighboring tribes than they have ever been, and are beginning to understand and practice successfully the principles of self-government. Their schools are flourisli-ing, and, from the list of articles of agricidtui'c and trade mentioned in the report as abounding in the colony, they seem to possess all that any people could desire for personal

■ (Jcocral Jackson's first clectiou.

comfort or exchange. The only obstacle to the success of the colony — so far as the country in which it is, is concerned — is that it is at first unhealthy for those coming from the northern part of the United States. Those south of a line drawn east and west, and passing between Washington and Baltimore, stand the cUmate very wellj almost all north of that line have to undergo a sort of preparation by taking medicine, and afterward they live in it very well. The society seems to have gained during the past year many distinguished friends — particularly in Virginia. There was a State society formed in Virginia not long since (at the head of which was Judge Marshall), and also several active auxiharies. After the report was finished, Mr. Mercer of Virginia made a speech compUmentiug the friends of the society on the prosperous state of things it exhibited, etc., during which he noticed the progress of the society under all its discouragements. He is a very easj' and gi'aceful speaker, and veiy fluent. A Mr. Key of Georgetown also spoke on a resolution to erect a monument to the memory of then- late agent, Mr. Ashman, who seems, under ProAddence, to have been the main founder of their settlement. Mr. Stores of New York and Mr. Clay also spoke, with sundry others of less note. Mr. Clay presented and spoke on a resolution thanking the ladies of the United States who had dm-ing the past year taken an active interest in the aid of the society, and especially those of PetersbuT'g, Richmond, and Georgetown. He seems to have been, from the fonnation of the society, its warm friend, and said he well recollected some years since when ten or a dozen gentlemen met in a small room to form it; then, rapidly sketching the progress of the society, he spoke of its certain success, from being supported by most of the intelligent and benevolent of the country, the great advantages held out to emigrants in Africa, and the inducements they have to leave this country. The number of apphcants for transportation greatly exceeds the means of the society. There are now about six hundred. The plan seems to be feasible, and indeed has been shown to be entirely so. AU that is wanting to remove not only the blacks that are free,

but those that are enslaved also, is the consent of their owners and funds to transport them. There is land sufficient and productive to support them; and as to climate, fortunately the great body of blacks are in that part of the Union from which they experience least inconvenience in Africa. Now I believe in the course of not many years one State after another will be willing to abohsli slavery. This is proved by the state of things in Maryland and Vix-ginia, the slave States farthest north, and from a variety of motives funds enough will be raised to gradually transport them.

I attended the debates in the House of Representatives on the Georgian claims, and on a resolution to require the election of several oificers of the House — public printer among others — to be viva voce. This, James Polk told me, was introduced by one of the Jackson party to elect the editor of the Telegraph, which they are fearful they cannot do if the vote of each member is not known. I heard a speech of Mr. Bar-ringer in opposition to it, which sounded quite like the legislature of North Carolina.

I saw Governor Iredell for a few moments, who gave mc the latest intelligence I have had from home.

James Polk showed me a letter from a correspondent under General Jackson which he had just received, stating that the general, though deeply distressed at Mrs. Jackson's death, was well, and would travel by the most direct route to Washinglon in January or February.

On hearing that his father intended to be present at the inauguration of General Jackson, he wrote:

February 10, 1829. I was gratified to hear from Ma that you Avould be in Washington on the 4th of March,^ and hope that your arrangements will enable you to do so, taking Alexandria in your way, or at least that you will let me know when you will be in Washington. From the universal excitement which seems to pervade the country, I suppose the throng will be greater 1 For Jacksou'ii inauguration.

than on any such occasion before; and to secure comfortable lodgings, therefore, I should think it well, either to get to the city early or apprise some friend of your coming. You will hardly be able to come up the Potomac, as it is, and has been at intervals, either frozen over, or so filled with floating ice as to keep the steamboats from running regularly. And this I regret, as the stage route — should you come by stage — is at this season very uncomfortable and rugged. General Jackson wished, I understood, to have us parade on his getting to the city ; he was expected to be there on the 8th. I have not heard of his arrival.

In the month of Jnne he expressed to his father the feeling of astonishment wntli which lie and others regarded the ag-gi-essive development of the spoils system in the public service by General Jackson.

I have not been to Washington — except to pass through merely — since I was there with you, though our proximity enables me to hear of most of the things of interest that pass. I do not know how others may have been affected, but the proscriptions of the general, from party considerations merely, of many of his fellow-citizens of unimpeachable character, seem hardly consistent with the generous and dignified course I expected fx'om him. His descending to the removal of petty postmasters in obscure parts of the country seems hardly suitable employment for the head of so great a nation, whose very station must furnish ample business of a more elevated and altogether more useful character. Were I a politician, I fear that I would find in the administration thus far enough to shake my Jackson principles.

During the summer of 1829 INlr. Polk had occasion to use his influence with the administration in the correction of a wrong done by excessive severity in discipline at West Point. It will be remembered that he had himself suffered, while a cadet, by an act of discipline to which he submitted, but the justice of which he never

ceased to deii}", holding that the inequality of punishment administered to different persons for identically the same offense was utterly unjust. Wliile at the Seminary he was visited by a young man who had not indeed been blameless, but who had been expelled from the Academy for faults which had been far more lightly punished in the case of other cadets. Taking the case in hand, Mr. Polk visited the President to ask, not for mercy, but for even-handed justice on the ground of the established usage of the Academy. He narrates the circumstance to his father in the following letter:

Henry Hawkins called on me last Saturday. Having written in reply to his request, advising him not to go on furlough, I was surprised to meet him, and was afraid to ask his business. He soon told me, however, that he had been discharged from the Academy for deficiency in mathematics. This was a terrible shock, for the poor fellow seemed greatly mortified, and his whole prospects were blasted. He told me that a great number had been found deficient in the different classes, and eight perhaps of his own class, some for conduct, some for French or drawing, or mathematics, and some for all. Among the latter number was a son of General Brown, who had, notwithstanding, been retained at the Academy, with a promise that he should be permitted to join the next class. A son of Swartouts [Collector of the Port of New York, perhaps] was deficient in several bi'anches also, and had been retained. This gave Henry a claim on the government for a like privilege ; and I went with him forthwith to the Pi'esident, stated his case to liim, and desired his restoration wholly on the ground of estnhlished usage in such cases. His conduct had been better than that of one half the corps; he was young when he was admitted (too young); and he had been found deficient but in one liranch. All these are considerations which the government lias been in the habit of regarding in the cases of young men who have been discharged heretofore, and who have applied for reinstatement.

He referred Henry to the Secretary of War, stating? to him in a letter that, if it was proper, he desired his return. the Secretary required him to lay his case before him in writing, which he did, and received for answer that he should be restored, Avith pei*mission to go on with the next class. So he is again a cadet, with a severe lesson, which I trust and believe has so impressed him that he will never forget it.

At this time Mr. Polk's brother Hamilton, who was then a stndent at Yale, was obliged to leave college on account of ill-health. He visited Leonidas at the Seminary on his way home. Every effort to ajTest the progress of the fatal malady of eonsum|)ti()n was fruitless, and in the following spring Leonidas thought it necessary to prepare his parents for the probably ine\'itable end by the following letter:

Sunday, I\Lirch 3,1830. Ml/ dear Mother: Hamilton, I suppose, lets you hear from him as he proceeds on his journey. Mary said she would let me know something of his route and whei'e he would expect letters that I might write to him. Through a letter from brother William the other day, I heard of his having passed through Salisbury; the direction of his route was not mentioned. I should be glad to know it, and would write to him. Poor fellow, I cannot but follow him with great interest, and allowing his case not to be, as I timst it is not now, hazardous, yet he may have, and undoubtedly he has, the appeai-ance of having the seeds of our famdy malady sown within him. A recognition of this fact is at best painful, but I confess I do not see the wisdom of putting away from our minds the contemplation of things as things are and must be. There is, it is true, much satisfaction in the thought that we and ours shall be retained in being as we are, yielding and I'eceiving mutual kindnesses, and ministering to the relief of each other's cares and woes, uninteiTupted by disease or death; but to build on such a foundation is to buUd on the sand. The whole fabric is unstable, and to persuade ourselves that

it is firm is to conjure up a delusion which staj's and represses our alarms for a ^Yllile only, to poui' upon us a double portion of afiSiction when the truth must come. Thus I reason with regard to all my earthly attachments, and while to enjoy and cultivate them is one of the happiest of this world's employments, it is the highest wisdom to be familiar with the fact that they must cease ; and not only so, but to be willing and ready to rehnquish them with resignation and submission. They may all go and leave us behind, or we may go and leave them, when and how we know not. Death's approach is like that of a thief in the night, at our hand sometimes when we little expect it; and yet there is a condition in which, if we live, such a \dsitation must be the herald of peace rather than dismay. Instead of the withering decree, ^' Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground ? " it is in our power to be joyful recipients of the thrilhng invitation, " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you fi'om the foundation of the world." JMy prayer, dear mother, is that the minds of all the members of owx dear family may be disabused as to the real state of things, and that we may all be eternally happy. I would not weary you with such frequent and, you may think, rather urgent remarks as I have occasionally made touching eternity. I would make my correspondence and my Avhole intercourse with you and my dear father no otherwise remarkable than so far as they may eontril)ute to the peace and ease of your declining years. In the survey of my past life nothing so much pains me as the recollection of occasions when, from misjudgment or the criminal impetuosity of my naturally ardent disposition, I have done or said things which must have pained you. I entreat you to ei'ase the recollection of them from your memory, and believe me most truly desirous of your affection and approbation and

P^ * Truly and affectionately youi* son,

L. Polk.

About the same time he wrote to his friend, Dr. Mc-Ilvaine, of his occupations in the Seminary and of his approaching ordination.

lOU MISSION WORK. [1S3U

Great harmony and yood tVeling prevail anujng the students (fifteen in number, all candidates fur orders and in full standing), six of whom will be ordained during the approaching spring. Our little meetings in the neighborhood aie pretty well attended, and occasionally mnch feeling and interest are manifested. As a specimen of this interest, the meeting I have attended during the past year has resolved to build a neat brick chapel for its use, and above three hundred dollars have been subscribed for that purpose. It wiU look for its supply of ministei's to the students of the Seminary as generation follows generation.

We have been highly gratified with the exhibition of the spmt of missions recently manifested in your parish. "We have foiTued a society in the Seminary, and another in the Alexandria churches is shortly to be raised, which it is hoped will afford its full quota of funds to the mother society. A very good spirit, we leara, is abroad in the congregations.

The Lord willing, I shall apply for orders in April. I shall be likely to be ordained by Bishop Moore in Richmond. Whither I shall go, I know not. And now, my dear brother, I shall in an especial manner want yoixr prayers and covmsel. Your superior experience has already been of lasting benefit to me, and I earnestly hope it may not be withheld while we shall together labor in the cause of our blessed Master. I •would seek so to pass through things temporal as not to lose sight of things eternal, and I would strive to set forward the cause of God and the salvation of multitudes of my djdng fellow-creatures. In looking about me, I find the field white with the harvest in every direction, and I am only solicitous to know my appropriate station.

In the "little iiieeting-s" of which lie WTote in this letter, Mr. Polk had found the first field of his labors. The "■ ueat brick chapel" was their first result; and it is probable that the neti\'ity of the foreiijn missionary '' society in the Se:n:narv and another in the Alexandria clini'clics" was more l;tri,n"l\" 'I'lc to his inthu'iu'c tlian

his modesty allowed him to ])erceive. But he was eag'er to be admitted to ordei-s, and to engage in the full work of the ministry; and Dr. Mellvaine, who was then about to visit Europe, wrote to request that, as soon as he should be ordained, he would take charge of his congregation in Brooklyn. This offer Mr. Polk was compelled to decline, as he had already been requested by Bishop Meade to remain in Virginia to assist Bishop Moore in the parochial charge of the Monumental Church, Richmond.

It had been understood that the marriage of Mr. Polk should take place soon after his ordination, and in announcing that he expected to be ordained somewhat before the close of his second year at the Seminary he thought it right once more to give expression to the depth of conviction by which he was actuated in taking a step which his father had not even yet cordially approved. At the same time he expressed his anxiety that his brothers, who were all manly, upright men, might not be estranged from him. They were by no means irreligious men, but they were fond of sports, and some of them were particularly interested in the breeding of race-horses. It was not open antagonism or disrespect that Leonidas apprehended from these warm-hearted country gentlemen, but rather, perhaps, a good-humored jocularity concerning sacred things which it would be wrong for him to permit and painful to rebuke. There is a subtle indication of the inward sympathy existing between him and his father in the tacit appeal to the latter to prevent a possible but painful result of a course which he himself had deprecated.

I regi'etted, when I parted with you, the idea of not seeing you again before you left the State, and particularly on an

lO'l JiELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS. [1830

occasion so iuteresting to me as my marriago, and I have been balanoino: in my mind repeatedly during the fall and winter the feasibility of preparing for orders earlier than I anticipated. That I might spend some months longer in study with advantage is certain. But as 1 had concluded to present myself for ordination about the middle of May, and in a theological course as a fcAv weeks longer or shorter could not be of material consequence, I have concluded, at your suggestion, to endeavor to get home by the last of April. This will cause me to request ordination of Bishop Moore in Richmond on my way home. I am much pleased with the prospect of meeting brother Lucius, whom I may not see again for many years.

And now, my dear father, I desire to say, with reference to the course I have determined to pursue during my life on earth, that I am moved to it by the soberest convictions of my judgment under the guidance, as I firmly believe, of the supreme Governor of the Universe, and that, after again and again revolving in my mind the ground of my confidence in these opinions, I am but the more thoroughly persuaded of their truth and stability. Believing as I do, after mature deliberation, that there neither is nor can be any reasonable ground of hope for happiness in eternity but in the belief and practice of the doctrines and duties of the Christian religion, and that all, therefore, who fail of this must be lost, I feel constrained by a regard for the welfare of my fellow-creatures, and in honor of our common Maker, whose worship and service we by nature so little regard, to use the time and talents allotted me on earth in unfolding and explaining the scheme of redemption, and in urging its acceptance. This I believe to be my ob^aous and unavoidable duty, and in entering on its performance my earnest desire is completely to disentangle myself from all other concerns which may in any wise interfere with its faithful discharge, and of coui'se, therefore, to concern myself no further with worldly affairs than is really necessary. This course differs wholly from that pursued by any of my brothers Avho have preceded me, though not more than the motives which have governed our sev-

eral conclusions. And, for myself, I can only say that I am truly conscientious and sincere; and tbat my motives will be appreciated by my friends, I cannot but humbly hope and believe. The relation into which I shall be brought to them will be novel and in some respects perhaps a painful one, for, however nearly allied and dear to me they may be by ties of natural affection, I could never lose sight of their relation to God, nor of my obligations to be faitliful to Him; and though these two things ought not ever to be found opposed to each other, yet possibly they might be, in which case they, being unable to enter into my views or feel the force of my circumstances, could neither explain my conduct nor excuse me from censure. That this may never occur is my sincere desire, but more particularly, my dear father, that such a change may be effected in our relative conditions as entirely to forbid the possibility of its occurrence. These things I have thought it a duty frankly and affectionately to express to you, and that no occasion was more favorable or becoming than the present.

On Good Friday, April 9,1830, Mr. Polk was ordained deacon in Ricliniond.

On May 6, 1830, he married Miss Devereux, and soon afterward returned to Richmond to enter on his duties as assistant to Bishop Moore in the cure of the Monumental Church. The following letter to Mr. Mcllvaine gives an account of his Richmond ministry:

Richmond, July 21,1830. My dear Brother: I have been long promising myself the pleasure of complying with your request to give you an account of my ordination, first preachings, etc., and, although several months have elapsed since I was ordained, 1 have not found myself altogether prepared for it. You left the country so soon after writing me that I could not write you at Brooklyn, and I have been so situated as not to hear a word of you since you sailed, where you were, would be, etc. I was

ordained on Good Friday, and presented by Brother Robertson, who was here on behalf of the Greeks. I preached on the Sunday following from John iii. 16: "God so loved the world," etc., my first sermon; and, though not very well, and much excited, I was gi-aciously sustained and comforted in the delivery of my message. The l^ishop was about to leave on a trip to Norfolk and the Eastern Shore, and had requested me to fill his pulpit until his return. I consented, and remained, and preached on the two following Sundaysj in the nioming from Hebrews xii. 14: " Without holiness," etc., and from James ii. 18: " Shew me thy faith Avithout," etc, I found myself very much fettered by my notes, and could not help feeling that the congregation listened as to a written essay rather than to a spirited heartfelt appeal from the gospel. I hope time will make it otherwise, and enable me to read freely. For it is dispu-iting labor now, and I do not feel able, in my present situation, to extemporize. I went from this to my liome, and in a few days after received a call from the vestiy to assist the bishop. The way seemed to have been so plainly opened before me that I could not but regard it as my duty to accept. I did so accordingly, and after remaining at home over three Sabbaths, I retm-ned and entered upon the duties of the parish. Thus has terminated my pathway into the ministiy; thus has been consummated the design which I humbly trust was formed with an eye single to my duty as a servant of Christ. And, oh, that I may not have been deceived, and that new evidence may break in upon me of my liaA'ing been indeed moved by the Spirit!

the congi'egation is large, and the fashionable congregation of the city. We have, therefore, spmts of every grade and character to deal with. About one hundred and thirty communicants, few males, and these mostly old men. I do not find many of these decidedly and actively pious. The bond of Clu-istian fellowship is not so sti-ong (a fault in some degi'ee, I have thought, common to our Church, is it not ?) as the gospel requires, and as it is sometimes seen to exist. " I pray thee. Father, that they may be one, as we are." We have the usual societies, education, foreign and domestic mis-

sions, — they are pretty active, I believe; a weekly lecture conducted by the bishop, during the day; and we are now about to get up a monthly concert. There are two other Episcopal churches here, Peet (brother of your superintendent) and Lee (son of E. Lee of Alexandria) ministers. They are both good men and disposed to lay hold of every means likely to be efficiently useful. The bishop is getting old, and is for peace. He is cautious and admits new plans and means with difficulty, though he is very kind and affectionate. He leaves for the North in a day or two, and will be gone all summer. I feel very deeply, at times, distressed and .depressed, under a sense of the magnitude of my work. I feel inadequate to the instruction of such a congregation, and often realize the force and necessity of St. Paul's exhortation to Timothy, " Let no man despise thy youth." I trust I am not ignorant of the way to be saved, but to present it so as to command attention and constrain obedience is beyond my power, and I know, too, that uU poicer is of God, which impresses effectually. I now feel that an interview with you would greatly encourage and strengthen me. Your counsels are at all times very valuable to me. Can you find time from your valuable engagements to drop me a few hints'? It rejoices me to know that the desire of your heart, so long entertained, to be in the midst of the great Jerusalem of the world where the tribes go up, has been satisfied, and that you have beheld, with your own eyes, the mighty men whom the Lord is employing in regenerating the earth.

We are looking to your visit, with that of the excellent doctor, to be of immense benefit to our Zion on this side of the water. You cannot but reap a large harvest of information, both general and particular.

I would thank you to notice such books as woidd be valuable to me. As yet I have no library. Can you procure for me a copy of " The Fathers of the Church"?

Mr. Polk's health had been somewhat impaired by severe study at the Seminary. Soon after his ordination Bishop Moore went to the North, leaving liim alone in

lUt) DEATH OF HAMILT02< POLK. [183U

charge of the congregation. His strength was overtaxed; but, in spite of serious indisposition, he kept steadily at work until he was taken dangerously ill.

On his recovery in September he went to Raleigh to be with his brother Hamilton, who had come home from Yale College, only, as the event proved, to die. After one of their conversations, in which Leonidas had avoided anything that seemed hke preaching, Hamilton turned, to him and said, " Brother Leonidas, you are very kind, you are always with me; do you think I am going to die ?" Leonidas hesitated for some moments, and then, in the gentlest manner, told him the truth. For some time — perhaps for an hour — the dying youth was silent. At length he said, quite calmly, "I am going into a world of which I know nothing — can you tell me anything of that world, and how I am to prepare for it ?" Then "right joyfully" the young deacon preached " Jesus Christ and him crucified" to his dying brother. The bishop often afterward spoke of the intense eagerness with which his brother, diu-ing his few remaining days, Ustened and asked questions. Leonidas never left him, night or day, sleeping only a few moments, now and then, by his side, so that he might always be at hand when his brother was disposed to converse. At length he baptized him, and when all was over he fulfilled his brother's last request to read the burial service of the Church over his grave. After these tender ministries, and the great sorrow which closed them, Mr. Polk returned to Richmond, feebler than before.

The loss mentioned in the following letter, An-itten soon after the death of Hamilton, is that of his brother Charles, a promising child of two years of age, the choice of whose name had been a subject of affectionate pleasantr}':

Richmond, November 4,1830. Mij dear Father: I have received both your letters of the 10th and 18th, and do most deeply sympathize with you and my dear mother under your severe bereavement. To have lost one son under the distressing cu'cumstances which attended the case of poor H., however alleviated by the assurance that he was benefited by the change, was seriously afflictive 5 but, before this wound had lost its freshness, to have to sustain another in a strange land, in the person of such an engaging and lovely boy, must have been almost insupportable. But, my dear father, the hand of Death must, sooner or later, be laid upon us all, however engaging or tenderly loved. And while the reflection that we do but suffer the common lot of all the living may make you feel as if you were not alone in your soitows, you may doubtless have the assurance, also, that every stroke which diminishes our number does but draw those who are left the more closely to you. I feel this, and doubt not it is felt in common by us all. But I cannot forbear the reflection that, however iinited and cordial our affections may be, and however grateful to our parents, the demonstrations we have just had prove most painfully that oui" happiness must be founded upon a more enduring basis. Our children and our parents are sources of great comfort and happiness to us ; but, alas! they are mortal — they cannot abide with us, nor we with them. And there is not, nor can be, any security or permanency in our union but that which is founded on a common interest in the inheritance of the real Christian beyond the grave. Should we all possess this, our separation at death must be but temporary, our sorrows at parting the soitows of those " who are not without hope," and our reunions positive and eternal. And I cannot but feel that you will excuse me, my dear father, though a son, for placing before you these things, and affectionately m-ging and entreating your attention to them as the only source of consolation under the distresses to which we are subject here, and the only ground of hope hereafter. Many, indeed, are the resorts to which we may betake ourselves to drown sorrow or assuage grief, and many pleas-

ing delusions of protracted days and eternal safety may lull oiu* fears and quiet our apprehensions; but the experience — the repeated experience — of ages has too often shown the one to be unsubstantial, and the Word of God most solemnly "warns and cautions us against the other. Only under the fatherly protection of the Almighty Parent of the Universe, secui-ed to us through the mediation of Jesus Christ and by the agency of his Spmt, are safety and true peace to be found. I have no higher wish than that while these blessings are strewed around with such a bountiful hand, and so many are gathering them, my o\vn dear parents and brothers may not be neglected; nor can there be any period moi'e favorable than when our minds have been awakened to the vanity of earthly hopes by an afl&ictive, though friendly, visitation from above, as the cares of the world and the hand of Time will certainly obliterate our impressions and sink us again into a fatal security. My dear father, bear with yom* son, who has no other earthly motive than yoiu* highest happiness when he reminds you of youi* very protracted old age, the certainty of death, the immense and boundless eternity before you, and the absolute necessity of a Christian character in order to ensure your happiness. May the Great and Mighty Being, before whom we must stand, graciously assist us all!

Your affectionate son,

L. Polk.

On January 27, 1831, Mr. Polk's first child was born, — a son, whom he called Hamilton, after the brother he had lost. It had been hoped that the winter would bring relief to his protracted illness; but the hope was disappointed, and, as the spring opened, his family and friends were filled with apprehension. In April ho considered it his duty to resign his position at Richmond; and after taking his wife and child to her father's home in Raleigh, he returned to Virginia to attend the Diocesan Convention at Norfolk, where he was ordained priest in May, 1831. He then rejoined Mrs. Polk at Raleigh, but re-

maiued witli her only a fortnight. Travel on horseback by easy stages was prescribed for him, and about the middle of June he rode through Virginia to Alexandria, and thence, with his friend Dr. Keith, to Philadelphia. O21 considting a physician in Philadelphia, he was told he had but a few months to live. He then consulted Doctors Chapman and Jackson, who advised a sea-voyage and European travel, but they urged his immediate departure. Acting on this advice, he went at once to New York, and on the 8th of August, 1831, he sailed for Europe.

After a stormy voyage of twenty days, nineteen of which he passed in his berth, suffering all the miseries of seasickness, Mr. Polk landed in Havre on the 28th of August. Thence he went by diligence to Paris, where he remained six weeks, taking medical advice and seeing much that interested him. He was reassured by the opinion of the celebrated Chomel that, though possibly overtaxed, his lungs were not affected with disease. Consequently, all he had to do was to enjoy his leisure, leaving nature in her own way to effect a cure. As soon as he wa,s settled in quarters, he wrote his father as follows. The letter is suggestive both to the farmer and the politician.

Paris, September IS, 1831.

3Iy dear Father: Before the receipt of this you will, of course, have been apprised of my absence from America and the cause of it. I am happy in being able to say that I seem to have experienced benefit from my voyage, — at least, it seems now to begin to appear. At first, shortly after landing, I was not well. My pain has since abated, my color become better, strength increased, and I am much less nervous. I trust that my health may be again entirely restored.

Our voyage was short, only twenty-one days, and on the whole quite as agreeable as I had reason to expect; at times

it was delightful, then wretchedly miserable. We landed at Havre de Grace, then passed along the border of the Seine to Rouen and up to Paris in a huge, misshapen coach, called by a singular misnomer, " diligence." This vehicle consists of three apartments, all joined together, and upon the same level, extending, when on the wheels, well nigh the full length of a road wagon. It is in fact three coaches fastened together. The baggage is all carried on the top, and it is capable of accommodating about twenty or thirty persons. Persons often ride on the top. In approaching Paris and throughout the whole route from the sea-shore, indeed, we passed through a beautiful country all under cultivation. The grounds seem well tilled, though entirely open, without fences; occasionally, but rarely, a hedge.

It was harvest, the grain was lying in shocks on the ground, pUed, I observed, on the sides of the shock, and not the ends, as with us. I was struck with the honesty of the people in not troubling the fruit which hung plentifully on the ti'ees and vines quite on the roadside, unprotected. This is the season of the \dntage also. Their grapes are delightful, and in great abundance. The pears and peaches are also very fine and well flavored, as also the strawbemes. Finer peaches I have never seen anywhere.

I am lodging comfortably in the part of Paris where I have been for near a fortnight. I may remain as long, or longer, before going down farther to the south, where I propose spending the winter. I shaU winter probably in Italy near Naples. This nation, you will remember, has been revolutionized since I saw you; it is still not contented with the order of things ; and on hearing of the fall of Warsaw, the stronghold of the struggling Poles, the outciy against the Ministry was very loud and threatening. This happened night before last. The mob passed under my window to the house of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, where they called for the Minister ; the doors were closed and bamcaded; they pelted the house with stones, broke the windows, etc. The excitement continued through the night and has done so up to this period. Yesterdav the mob was more violent than to-dav. Everv

effort is made on the part of the government to quell it; whether they will succeed is doubtful. Things are by no means settled. The government has not the confidence of the people. The poorer classes are in great distress. The money-holders will not invest their capital, and many of the wealthy have either gone into the country or left France, so that few purchases are made beyond the articles of immediate necessity. The Liberals fear that, now the affairs of Belgium are settled and Poland fallen, the Great Powers will turn their attention to France, and combine to put down the existing and restore the former government.

The whole of Euroj^e is, indeed, in a critical condition, and may in a month — or at any moment, indeed — be involved in a general war.

We cannot be too grateful that so vast an expanse of water separates us from the broils and misrule of this region of crowned heads.

His diary shows that his thoughts were never diverted by the attractions of the gay capital from what had become the controlling influence and purpose of his life. On Sunday, October 2d, after attending divine service, he writes:

The minister may be undoubtedly styled evangelical. He preached at half past eleven A.M. and at three P.M. I attended both services. In the niorning the communion was administered, and I trust to the refreshing of my soul. How blessed it is to hold sweet communion with kindred spu-its around the board of one common Lord! Lord, increase within me a deeper sense of thy goodness. Cleanse thou my soul from all that is impure and unholy, and breathe into me afresh the breath of spiritual life.

In commenting on the morning service, he remarks: " I see no use of doctrines which cannot be used to affect the practice of the hearer both toward God and man." Of the evening discourse, he says: ''The preacher failed,

I thought, in not applying his subject. This part of the preacher's duty — perhaps one of the most unpleasant, certainly one of the most difficult to be done well — is too often slurred over by us all."

Sunday, October 9. — I went to hear Bishop L — — at the Ambassador's Chapel. In the afternoon so much fati^ed I did not leave my chamber. It is pleasant at times to be alone — away from the gaze and bustle of the world, above all, away from the presence of this extraordinary city. I had some pleasant, and I trust profitable, reflections. Thought much of my dear wife and little one.

Tuesday, October 11. — At five o'clock I was under way for Brussels in the diligence, with a Frenchman on each side of me. I was in the coupe. We rode thus, without speaking, for many hours, so that I was left to reflections on my stay in Paris, the people, etc. I may sum up all in this and say: If we had no souls, if this world Avere the only theater of our existence, and if pleasure in its most extended sense were the sole object of life, Paris is the place to find it. For pleasure, I suppose, Paris is the first place in the woi'ld. But if this life is the place to prepare for another, and if the Scriptures are true, one had better live anywhere else.

October 16. — Had to hire carriage to take me to the Dutch lines, for which I paid thirty-four francs; but could do no better. This was the usual price. Passed out of Antwerp and through a flat and uninteresting countrj', thickly populated, and in some places wholly unproductive, — unlike that between Antwerp and Brussels, which I could compare to nothing else but a great kitchen-garden. At one o'clock I was at the advanced post of the Dutch, where I found several sentinels along the lines. I handed my passport to the sergeant, who dispatched it to the commandant of the small town before which his command was placed. It was returned Avith a can-iage to take nie out of the hands of my Belgian fiiends. I mounted into a vehicle very like the Quaker gigs

of Pennsylvania; beside me was my trunk, and beside the driver was the sentinel, who was taking me to the commandant of the station. On arrivuig- I was passed as not contraband, and my driver, a dry, tliin, queer-looking little Dutchman, as if delighted to have me passed so easily, was making-good speed out of the town, when he was brought to by the custom-house officer with a call to examine my baggage. There was no avoiding it, so we stopped, and, amid the gazing throng of good citizens of Landort, I opened my treasures and politely offered to assist mynheer, who was tumbling my linen with his dirty fingers. He rejected the kindness and said he would rather look for himself. He asked if I had any letters. I answered, " No," but he continued the search, and presently, with much satisfaction, laid his hand upon a packet of letters of introduction which I had quite forgotten. These he turned over and over until he came to one that was sealed. " Ah," said he, addressing one near him. '' Here, take it to the commandant." This unfortunate document was a letter of introduction from Bishop Ives to the editor of The Christian Observer. The Dutchman, no doubt, thought it might contain some dreadful Belgian plot. However, it was soon returned unopened. The commandant probably thought that an American clergyman, writing by another to another in England, could have very little to do with Dutch politics.

On reacliiug The Hague he ealled upon Mr. Dabezac of New Oi-leans, the American charge d'affaires, by whom he was kindly received and entertained.

I was struck to-day [the diary proceeds] with the sort of respect shown by the subjects of his Majesty to the sprouts and sprigs of royalty, and also with what is deemed " eomme ilfauf'' on the part of the representatives of foreign powers. While walking with Mr. Dabezac in the wood, v/e were overtaken and passed by a number of persons Avho are more or less constantly thronging this inviting resort. Among these at length appeared a child of about ten years of age, accom-

panied by her governess, and followed by a servant in livery. To this little creatiu'e I observed the greatest attention paid by all wlio came near her, the men facing inward and revei'-ently raising their hats, the women courtesying. 1 asked Mr. Dabezac who it was. He had scarcely time to reply before she was at our heels, and he, disengaging himseK from my arm, had faced inward, and given the customary salute with great gravity. This was so profoundly ridiculous in an American that I doubted for a moment that it was not done in burlesque; but this doubt is to be set down to my ignorance of diplomatic usage. This child, it appears, was the daughter of Prince Frederick, one of the sons of the king, and because of that relation, however incapable of understanding or estimating the honor, she was treated with the homage due to or exacted by royalty'.

At Berne Mr. Polk visited Hofroyl, the celebrated school of Mr. Felleuberg. One of the most pleasant days of his travel was spent there in examining the working of the school, and in learning from Mr. Fellen-berg the peculiar advantages which he claimed for his system of instraction.

After Aasiting many points of interest in Switzerland, he crossed the Alj^s into Italy, reached Rome by easy stages, and there spent several weeks. His health was never good; and he sometimes doubted whether he would ever be able to undertake the active duties of the ministry. The following extracts from his diary and letters are given not because his observations Avere in any way novel or profound, but liecause they illustrate the steadfast devotion of the man at a time of greatest discouragement. At Rome he made the following entries :

Passed the Formn Romanorum, the most celebrated and classic spot of the city. Here was the place for the meeting

of the Senate, for the gathering of the people, for the transaction of all business of interest under the kingdom, the republic, and the empire ; here poets recited, philosophers taught, orators convened. But another reflection was more gratifying — these ruins had heard the energetic and animated voice of the great Apostle of the Gentiles; for who may doubt that he whose whole soul was so heartily in the work which had brought him bound to Eome w^ould neglect the opportunity offered daily in the Forum for preaeliing the gospel 1

After passing the triumphal arch of Constantine the Great, and the confused mass of the ruins of the palace of the Caesars, we came to the Colosseum. Its astonishing magnificence impresses all, and the Christian is awed by the fact that on this spot thousands of the followers of Christ were made the prey of wild beasts, by the cruelty of imperial monsters who disgraced human nature.

At the close of the year 1831 he writes in his journal:

Thus endeth another year. I dare not look back into it to find consolation. Much, very much do 1 see in it to deplore with the keenest, bitterest regret; and 1 can only be relieved from the unhappiness of such a retrospect by humbly casting myself at the foot of the Mercy-seat, confessing fully and penitently my transgressions, and imploring grace to brace and strengthen me against the future assaults of the tempter. May God forgive me for the past, and assist me in futui-e, for Christ's sake.

January 1, 1832. — A new year, opening on the Lord's day. May the tranquillity of this holy day be diffused through the entire year, and may the peace it is calculated to inspire be the lot of me and mine.

Attended the Enghsh service. The preacher called upon us to look back and see how many of our friends and acquaintances have passed into eternity. 1 did so, and was surprised at the numlier. Wliat thoughtless mortals we are, and how

little impressed with the solemn realities which encompass us! I spent the day, after returning from church, in my room, pondering over the circumstances of the season. May the Lord assist me in consecrating my heart, during the whole of this new year, exclusively to his service. My dear wife and child — their absence at this season I feel partieulai'ly. There are certain seasons signalized and set aj^art for special devotion to all our interests; this is one of them, and my heart goes back to my dear home. I commend it and them to the mercy and blessing of God.

January 18. — Shortly after leaving TeiTacina I became a subject of the King of Naples, and almost as soon had a specimen of the privileges of my new situation. After passing the advanced post where the passport was vised, I encountered the custom-house at Fondi. I left the an-angemeut of my baggage to my servant as usual, and was reading ; but, finding him somewhat long, I looked out, and saw an exceedingly ill-looking and dh'ty man handling and rvmipling some prints I had picked up on my route. One parcel of my clothes was lying here, another there, the whole surrounded by a paiiy of hard-looking, haK-naked spectators. Seeing the man can-y-ing the prints into the house, I got out of the carnage and asked what was the matter. Just then the upper part of the trunk was opened and some books were seen. " Oh," said the inspector, " books too. This trunk must be taken upstairs."' Remonstrance and the repeated declaration that I was not a peddler, and that the prints and books were simply those of a traveler, were in vain. I was talking to a stone. He could not see any difference between a traveler who had picked up a print here and there, as a souvenu- of his tour, or who had stowed in his trunk a book or two to beguile an idle hour, and a smuggler who got his living by earning those articles fi'om kingdom to kingdom; he only saw that in my trunk were certain things he was taught to call books, and that they were on the list of the articles taxed. In spite of all my eloquence of action and all the vocal and vociferous eloquence of Paul, my ItaHan servant, the whole was speedily

excised, and I was iuformed that twenty dollars would be required of me before I could be permitted to proceed. This I positively refused to pay. I could not believe that a government with a particle of intelligence or just feeling could subject travelers to such low and pitiful extortion, and if it did, I was unwilling to abide the decision of a set of creatures who seemed alike deficient in sense and principle. I therefore " appealed to Cfesar," and told them I would take the case before the highest revenue officers at Naples. They objected that this course was unusual and would be useless. I insisted upon sealing the trunks, and having the usual certificates withheld, for want of which my baggage would be seized at the city gates and carried to the custom-house. But this would not do ; in short, the only thing they would do — and that they thought I would refuse — was to allow a guard to accompany me. This I readily accepted, and mounting the sergeant beside my servant, with the questionable articles packed in a separate parcel which was duly sealed, I proceeded on my route. I considered the case so plain, and the demand so unreasonable, that I was determined, for the principle involved, to inem* expense and inconvenience rather than submit to it.

Writing afterward from Naples, he concludes this episode:

As to the books and prints and the soldiers of the customhouse, I have to say that, though I have been here four days, I have just had my property safely delivered to me. On arriving here, I sent my card, with a detailed statement of the matter, to the revenue officer, and another to a prince who, I heard, was in some Avay connected with the government, and a man of high and honoralile feeling. I counted merely on the justice of the protest and the character of the individual to whom it was addressed. I had no special claim to his assistance; but I was not disappointed. He went himself to the custom-house, made my case his own, protested against the injustice of interfering with the books and papers of a

traveler, and insisted on their being restored to me at once, free of duty. He did not belong to this dei^artraent; his influence, therefore, was indirect. After three days' consultation, and weighing and calculating, I was told that the original amount demanded would be abated two-thirds. I was gi'atifled to gain the point, although it had cost me both inconvenience and vexation. One is forced to the reflection that a government so unrighteously administered must ere long go to the wall.

Naples has the appearance of an amphitheater, and though not so rich in palaces as Rome or Florence, yet it presents a pictiu'e of unconmion beauty. Beginning at the sea-side, which there makes one of its prettiest bends, it stretches away backward and upward in a range of magnificent terraces. These are interspersed everywhere with spu'es and noble domes, and buildings which in any other counti-y would be accounted palaces, the whole crowned with the Castle of St. Elmo and ]\Im-at's palace of Capo di IMoute. Far away to the right is seen the Campus IMartius of this soldier-king, an open, flat, and square field of some ten or twenty acres, clothed with gi"een, and contrasting beautifully with the russet of the surrounding country. Beyond the city, and farther in front, projects another promontory rising to a great height and terminating abruptly, opposite to which is a round, upright island which looks as if it had once belonged to the mainland and had been shaken off by a tremhlement de terre. Over and beyond this again is seen another arm of the bay (that arm aei'oss which Caracalla threw his famous bridge), also St. Paul's landing-place, the lake of Avernus, and the Elysian Fields. Sucli is a faint sketch of the outline of this beautiful bay. Upon its bosom islands are negligently scattered here and there, breaking the view seaward, and lifting their heads as a wall of defense to the city. This scene, bathed in the mild light of a setting sun, as I saw it to-day, is one of the most beautiful the imagination can picture.

Writing his father from Pavia, March 16, lie says:

The natural beauties of the country, particularly for the eye of the farmer, are above all praise. Works of art in every department except the useful abound. They have enough of sculpture and painting here, indeed, to stock the world and feel no impoverishment. Speaking of sculpture reminds me of our unfortunate statue of Washington, in which you were so particularly interested. I have heard nothing of the fate of the fragments since I left Raleigh. It is to be hoped they were preserved. If so, the accident is of no consequence other than as having brought the statue into the condition of the ripest and most esteemed models of antiquity. The finest statuary extant has been reduced to fragments and restored. Witness the Venus de Medici, the Apollo Belvedere, etc. The general, when renewed, therefore, will be in the height of fashion. . . . Mama, I hope, is comfortably settled down again at the head of her little empire, and has found her regency well conducted during her absence. For her comfort, I must tell her she has high company in butter-making in this quarter, as my table was furnished by the King of Naples when I visited his dominions.

From Nice he ^vrote to the Rev, Dr. Mcllvaine, under date of March 27, 1832, commending a poor Itahan woman to his special care, and concluding as follows:

I have been at Nice now nearly a week, and find the climate truly delightful. It is very warm and dry. If it has a fault, it is its extreme dryness, interrupted occasionally by a sharp wester. I find the clergyman (English) a devoted, pious man. There are two other English clergymen here, both evangelical men. We meet almost every evening at the house of one or the other of them, and I have found these meetings like an oasis in the desert. One of them is the brother-in-law of Frank Noel, brother of your friend Baptist Noel. Mrs. Sherwood, the authoress (whose catechism Bishop Kemper edited), is also here. I have seen her very frequently. She is very plain and simple in manner, and looks not unlike the

pictures we see of Mrs. Hannah More. We had a great deal ot talk about India, America, etc. She went out to India the same year with Henry Martin, and lived next door to him for several years. She tells many interest intJ^ anecdotes of him. She is at present chiefly engaged in publishing a work on the types of the Scriptures. I saw the first number, which, entre nous, I thought more curious than useful. Everybody, though, is inoculated with the type and prophecy mania; and they can't comprehend what we 've been about in ^^merica that we know so little about it.

I allowed myself to be prevailed upon to preach in Leghorn at a Bethel meeting among the sailors, and suffered very much from it. I can't make out my case at all; I look very well, and, while silent, feel so, but the least excessive talking or public speaking brings me quite to the gi-ound again. I sometimes fear that I shall never be able to combat again with the trials of our calling; but, in any event, I try to feel that my Ufe and health are in the hands of God, and to be willing to be disposed of as he shall think best. I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you in Jime or July.

From Nice Mr. Polk went to Marseilles; thence to Toulon; and thence, by way of Lyons, he retnrned to Paris, where he found the cholera raging. The banker in charge of his funds had temporarily established himself at Brussels, and he was compelled to remain in Paris about ten days before he received a remittance. On one of these days twelve hundred persons were buried. He not only witnessed some of the dreadful scenes of the plague-stricken capital, but personally suffered a severe attack of the disease.

On his arrival in England he passed some time Avith Dr. Olynthus Gregory at Woolwich, and during his stay, in company with some members of the doctoi-'s family, visited the Noels, then members of the Church of Eug land. From Woolwich he went to London.

To Mrs. Polk.

May 30,1832.

This day I left London for Cambridge at ten a.m. Thought it was for the last time, but find, on getting to Cambridge, that it would be more interesting to go through London to «)xford than by the direct route, so that I shall be back again in the midst of that wonder of the world. Well, as the Americans say, " I don't quite ignore it," as it seems, on this side of the water, more like home than any other place. Besides, I shall get what I failed to take Avith me this morning — singular forgetfulness in a traveler — my traveling-map and road-book, which I left at my lodgings.

I am now in Cambridge, the seat of science on this island. I have looked over most of the colleges, and found the famous chapel of " King's," which an Englishman in Italy charged me to see by all means. One never sees the things one expects to see, and this famous King's has disappointed me. The interior certainly is finej the roof is arched over with stone carved in curious fretwork, and the windows are of handsome stained glass ; but it cannot be compared, in point of magnificence of effect, with the cathedral of Rouen; yet few EngUshmen can believe this.

The road to-day lay through Epping Forest, remarkable, as far as I know, only for a celebrated stag-hunt which takes place here annually during the Easter holidays, pro bono publico. The stag, the hounds, the attendants and whippers-in are provided by the king, and are put in motion for the amusement of his loving subjects. To this hunt flock the Londoners; cockney tailors, butchei's, periwig-makers, and all the et ceteras which make up the London mob oE hmnanity, who can raise the means of reaching the gi-ound, are there, and enter into the sport with glee becoming to novices. Here tofore they have made out to get the poor beast to start, but on the latest occasion, a month since, their zeal so outran the best discretion of his Majesty's huntsmen that it appears they could never make a place large enough for the poor thing to start from, so that what strength it had was wearied out of it before it could get out of their circle. The ground is called

a forest, but I had passed through it before I was tempted to ask for it; it is a forest that has been — a forest without trees. I was much struck with the occasional beauty of the country : not much hill and dale, yet not perfectly flat. The cultivation around the country-seats and cottages, to say nothing of the incessant succession of green fields, formed a panorama which, to me, Avas quite as interesting as a more rugged surface woidd have been. I confess I am quite charmed with the neatness of the country houses, and the manner in which the fields are arranged, hedged, and tilled; and when I think of our own vast plantations, with our dirty, careless, thriftless negro popvdation, I could, and do, wish that we were thoroughly quit of them. The more I see of those who are without slaves, the more I am prepared to say that we are seriously wi'onging ourselves by retaining them, — but I am in no mood for entering into this subject. In point of high cultivation and the semblance of comfort, I have seen nothing to compare with England. But I am not to write a book — above all, a book of such trash as the jottings of a tired and half-asleep invalid are likely to be. So, dear wife, good-night.

June 1. — How time flies! What a varied existence have I had since last June! Change following change. Many marked providences have mingled with them all. I have reason to fear that they have not received the acknowledgment of a grateful heart or obedient life. I have nothing to offer in excuse but confession of unworthiness and guilt. That the Lord may in pity forgive and restore me is my most humble and sincere suppHeation.

I am led to these reflections and feelings in remembering that it was in this month just one year since that I took leave of my dear wife and httle one and set out on the journey which I as little thouglit would have led me to Oxford as it is now likely to lead to China. But I trust it is soon to terminate, and I shall, I am sure, feel that my life is more than ever not my own, if I shall be restored to my little all in safety.

I find myself much less fatigued after my ride than I anticipated. Left London about half past one o'clock. It was

raining, but, having the means of wrapping up securely, I felt no great inconvenience on the outside of the coach.

The approach to Oxford is very beautiful. The coach drew up at the " Mitre," and, as I thought it might be the only chance I should ever have of being sheltered beneath the Mitre, I at once turned in.

Oxford, June 3. — A fine day; breakfasted with Dr. Mc-Bride and family, — viz., wife, daughter, and maiden sister, — agreeable, talkative, and disposed to please. I have ah-eady remarked that Enghsh breakfasts are conducted with great ease. The cloth spread and the dishes served, the servant retires and each person takes care of himself. You are expected to help yourself or to ask for what you wish, and trouble no one with : *' Shall I help you to an e^gV or " Will you take a piece of this fowl'?" " Do let me serve you something my way." Now, this I rather like, for it is, in the tirst place, much more likely to make a stranger at home, and spare others and himself many questions and answers which really break up the current of conversation. Besides, it cuts up by the roots an intolerable pest, in silencing those good people who, having really nothing to say, put at you every five minutes with an offer of service.

In the afternoon I heard with much pleasure a young minister on confirmation. The congregation, as English congregations generally are, was very quiet and attentive. Indeed, I think their manner while attending to divine service more devotional than that of any people I have seen. Their responses are audible and distinct, and they are, as far as I have seen, all men, women, and children in the habit of using the Prayer-book faithfully. Would we could say as much of our own! But here respeetal.)ility requires that sort of decent external regard, while no such principle, defective as it is, has force with us.

After dining with the family of my friend Dr. McBride, we went to what is called New College Chapel, remarkable for its beauty, and particularly for the effect of one of its painted windows, the joint work of Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr.

Jarvis ; the former havine: designed, while the latter executed it. I was takeu to the chapel that I might hear, what is not heard elsewhere, the cathedral service. The greater part of this consisted in chants performed by persons hii'ed for that purpose. The music, certainly, was fine ; but I can never be interested in a service which seemed designed so wholly for effect, and which constantly reminded me of what I had witnessed in that church from whose lapses we profess to have recovered. I was in no wise pleased M-ith the religious effects of the service, and though I have attended church three times I have not realized the solemnity and sanctity of this holy day.

The following letter to his father gives some further account of his travels, particularly mentions his journey to Liverpool by rail and steam, new things at that date, and a meeting with Montgomery the poet.

KiNGSTOX-uPON-HuLL, Jime 13,1832. My dear Father: When I last wrote you I thought I should have sailed before this; but, on getting to Liverpool, and finding I could, by adding only a month to my absence, see the most interesting parts of Scotland and Ireland, I had but little difficulty in yielding to the temptation of fm-ther delay. I have deferred sailiag, therefore, until the 8th of the next month, by which time I shall have aceompUshed my wish, and will sail when a first-class packet with ample acconnnodations and a civil captain puts out for New Yoi'k. I have seen all the ships wliich leave between this time and that date. They seem small and incommodious. Tlu*ough a letter to Mary from Manchester, you will have learned that on my route from London I visited Cambridge, Oxford, and Birmingham. From ^lanchester my route to Liverpool was, of course, by the railway. The distance is thirty-two miles, and we accomplished it in less than two hours. This is the ordinary time now; but the carnages have passed in fifty minutes, I think. On my return from Liverpool to Manchester, we were forty minutes on the west half of the road, which is at the rate of

twenty-six miles an hour. It is a magnificent work, and from the fact that the stock is ninety i)er cent, above par, you will see that it quite succeeds. At Liverpool the passengers alight in the suburbs of the city. Goods, etc., intended for shipping pass by a tunnel under the town to the docks. This tunnel is upward of a mile in length. The carriages, which are built long, and are very convenient, hold about twelve to twenty-four persons, and are strung together sometimes so as to make a train of two himdred yards in length. To stand at a distance and see this monster first begin to crawl off, and then, hissing and puffing, increase its speed until it attains a swiftness almost equal to that with which the swallow skims the earth, makes one feel lost in amazement. We involuntarily say with the simple countryman: "This beats all!" Indeed, higher eidogium could not well be bestowed at such a moment; for wc are at a loss for language sufficiently strong to express the astonishment — the admu-ation — it excites. After seeing this, we cannot but Avisli the heartiest success to similar undertakings in our own country. From Manchester I went to Sheffield, remarkable for its manufactories of plated ware and cutlery. This is where our knives, forks, candlesticks, etc., come from. I was much interested in looking over the establishment of several of the factories. At Rodgers's, famous for the excellence of his blades of all kinds, I piu'chased for you a pair of what he assured me were his first-rate razors. I hope you may find them as good as he represents. Sheffield, you may remember, is the place from which our townspeople, Mr.i and Mrs. Gales, came. Through their kintlness I was favored with an introduction to the poet Montgomery, once a member of their family, and Mr. Gales's successor to the editorship of their paper. He has since retired and is living with two of Mr. Gales's sisters. I have met with few persons who have more interested me than tlus excellent man. His character as a Uteraiy man of course is well known. I spent the greater part of three days with him, and for the pleasure I have received I feel that Mrs. Gales has placed me under an

1 Mr. Gales, subsequently the editor of the National Intelligencer at WashiiiKton.

obligation I shall not soon forget. The object of my visit here is to see the eldest and most distinguished of the sons of Thomas Scott, the commentator. The town in itself has little to interest, and I shall go this afternoon to York. From York my route will be through Durham, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, etc., to Edinburgh; thence, by Perth, Inverness, the Caledonia Canal, and the Clyde, to Glasgow; from Glasgow into Ireland, either at Londonderry or Belfast; thence by the Giant's Causeway to Dublin, and across, by Holyhead and Chester, to Liverpool. The rapidity and facilities of traveUng in this country will enable me to accomplish this in the time specified, with ease. Hoping that the jaunt may prove pleasant, and with my best love to mother and the family, I remaiD truly, Youi" affectionate son,

L. Pole.

CHAPTER IV.

PARISH WORK AND MISSIONARY EPISCOPATE.

1832 TO 1841.

Return to America. — Decides to adopt farming. — Consecration of Dr. Mcllvaine as Bishop of Ohio. — Leaves for Tennessee. — "Rattle and Snap." — Brick-making and building.-Death of Colonel Polk. — A woman raUroad-promoter. — The Experimental Railway. — Leonidas Polk's interest in railways. — How the railway should preserve the American Union. — The cholera. — The Columbia Institute. — Failing health. — Travels in Kentucky. — Miller and manufacturer. — Devotion to duty. — Consecration as Missionary Bishop of the Southwest. — Bishop Mc-Ilvaine's consecration sermon. — Missionary travels. — Nautical astronomy and religion. — A practical bishop. — Divine service under difficulties. — A providential escape. — Second missionary jom-ney. — Extent and character of the missionary diocese. — Views on celibacy of the clergy. — Assistance from Bishop Otey. — The episcopacy in Texas. — Third missionary journey. — Thoughts on the New Year. — Letters to his mother. — Incidents and adventures of travel.^ Sunday in Louisiana. — Horse-thieves in the Indian Territory. — Chief Ross's pardonable suspicions. — St. John's Chapel. — Slaveholders and slaves. — Appointed Bishop of Louisiana.

Mr. Polk's travels had so improved his health that he returned to America, at the age of twenty-six, comparatively robust in body and cheerful in spirit; but his physician still recommended him to be as much as possible in the open air. The winter of 1832-33 was passed in Raleigh, sometimes at his father's house, and sometimes at the house of his wife's father, Mr. Dev-ereux. It was during this winter that he resolved to live upon a farm until his health should be sufficiently re-established for him to return to his clerical duties.

His father offered to give him a place in Tennessee, and Mr. Deverenx offered him negroes to cultivate it. Believing that the climate of Tennessee would agi-ee with him, he accepted these offers, and prepared to remove to his new home. Before his departure, the Rev. Dr. Mc-Ilvaine was consecrated Bishop of Ohio, and on that occasion Mr. Polk addressed to liini the following letter:

Raleigh, December 10, 1832.

My dear Brother : Since receiving intelligence of the termination of the Ohio episcopacy, I have been absent from town and have not had an opportnnity of expressing my cordial satisfaction in finding you invested with the authority and enlarged opportunities of usefulness attached to that office.

It would give me great pleasure, I assiire you, to occupy some one of the many outposts of yom' widely extended territory, and to be occasionally refreshed with yoiu- presence; but, as far as I see, my path hes in a different direction. What was only probable when I saw you in Brooklyn is now certain — that I am to take up my residence in Tennessee. My life, I trust, shall not be lost, and in your great valley I shall at least have opportimity of usefulness. We propose to go out in the spring, and I shall settle near my brother, about fifty miles to the south of Nash\'ille. I do not despair of seeing you one day in the midst of your diocese ; tvhen, must be left to the decision of the future. You have become an author. What would you think of putting forth a small manual for family devotion? I do not find an\i;liing that seems to answer fully the purpose. I shall not leave until April. Mrs. Polk joins me in much love.

Very truly yom-s in Christ,

Leonidas Polk.

In April, 1833, he set out for Tennessee, and on the 15tli of Ma}' reached his brother Lucius's residence in Mauiy County. The journey was long and difficult, owimr to the sorions illness of his Avife. His father

owned a tract of five thousand acres of land, known as " Rattle and Snap," wliieli was divided between his fonr sons, Lucius, Leonidas, Eufus, and George; but the land assigned to Leonidas had been leased, so that he could not take possession of it until 1834. He therefore remained with his family at his brother's home, preparing, with the aid of his father, to build a dwelling. In the following extract from a letter to his mother he gives some account of his occupation while preparing to take possession of his estate:

Hamilton Place, August 17, 1833. My dear Mother: I confess I have been quite remiss as a correspondent, and I am unwilUng to excuse myself on the score of being very full of employment. But the truth is, I am very full of employment, and I find that to look after one's farm, and superintend all the various arrangements necessary to building, is no small task; but I came out here for an active life, and it is well I am not disappointed. I am very busy making brick, and will make them as they are required, I now see that, if I had managed rightly, I could have had my house up this fall. But ray plan is to get everything ready and on the spot to begin operations as soon as the spring shall open. The house will go up in good time, and I hope without much trouble or expense. I have succeeded in buying out the Fleming lease on favorable terms. There is as much open land in the place as I shall be able to cultivate for some time, and as there is a very snug, close-built log house with four rooms, closet, etc., built somewhat on the plan of the house at Will's Grove, we shall take up our quarters there, notwithstanding the kind and affectionate reception of our brother and sister, and our present comfortable rooms in their dwelling. . . .

Early in 1834 Colonel William Polk died in Raleigh, at a good old age, honored by all men, and lamented by all who knew him. Th()ut>-h his death at the age of

nearly fourscore could not be unexpected, it was a heavy shock to his family, by whom he was both venerated and beloved, and particularly to Leonidas, to Avhom for years past his relations had been peculiarly tender. The follo-sving letter was wi-itten by Leonidas to his mother shortly after receiving intelligence of his father's death :

Hamilton Place, February 12,1834. My dear Blother: We have now been a week in the receipt of the news of oui* dear father's death, and indeed I have been miable until now to muster resolution to acknowledge it. Ah, how deep a pang has it inflicted on us! Our dear, dear father! I caunot realize the truth of this sad iuteUi-gence. I have been assured, but cannot feel that he is no more. But it is and must be so, and how impressive a lesson has it read to us all. If there had been any among men who could have withstood the assaults of our last enemy, surely one combining such vigor of constitution with such energy of mind would have been among the number. But exceptions there are none. We are all frail and crumbling dust, at least as to the body. But we are not left comfortless or without hope. Few deaths have apparently transpired with so little acute pain or suffering, or with more composure. He seems to have expired hke a candle. This of itself has been a great consolation, as it is so unlike the end I anticipated. God in that was indeed merciful, and may Ave not hope still further? The characteristics of his illness seem to have been wholly different from those of former days, but little or nothing of that restless impatience which was usual. His sohcitude for the comfort of those about him, his freedom from complaint, and apparent resignation, must indeed have afforded gi-ounds of consoling hope to you, as they have to me. I have obseiwed a marked and gi-owing change in my father's character for some time past, and doubtless it has not been unobserved by you. It was not to be expected that any very sudden or complete revolution of feeling and character would occur in the case of one bred

^t. 27] THE EXPERIMENTAL HAIL WAY. VM

in the times and scenes which have marked his life. There was a natural severity of character and high tone and bearing which would very hkely attend him to the end, and any, the least evidence, of an humbled and subdued spirit, such as was evinced, was much more than I had anticipated. With God, who was the author of the qualities which distinguished him, and who has ever vouchsafed mercy to the humble and penitent, we may confidently leave him; and, my dear mother, may we not aU., with this, add a sincere petition that the warning may not be lost, and that this aiSiction may prove the source of God's richest blessing unto us who are left? We commend ourselves unto him.

It is a curious fact that Mr. Polk's mother was one of the earliest promoters of railway enterprise in this country. She had in fact projected the fii'st hne of railway in North Carolina. True, it was only a cheap strap-iron tramway, costing $2250 per mile, and running from the east portico of the capitol at Raleigh to a stone quarry, but it was the precursor of greater things, and it was significantly called " The Experimental Railway." When it was finished in 1833, a handsome passenger car was put upon the track "for the accommodation," as the directors announced, " of such ladies and gentlemen as desired to take the exercise of a railroad airing." Crowds of people flocked from the adjacent counties to avail themselves of the privilege; and it is recorded that no accidents occurred, the directors having prudently provided as the motive power of the train a safe old horse that was warranted not to run away! Mrs. Polk was not only the projector of the Experimental Railway; she was also one of the principal stockholders, and the soundness of her judgment was amply vindicated when the profits of the enterprise were found to amount to three hundred per cent, of the original investment.

When the success of the Experimental Railway had led

to the successful inaugairation of other railway enterprises of greater magnitude, Mrs. Polk was not forgotten ; and at a banquet given in honor of the first train draAvn by steam power into Raleigli, a special toast was drunk " To the distinguished lady who suggested the construction of the Expei'imental Railway; she well deserves a name among the benefactors of the State."

In his extended joui'neys in different parts of the coun-tiy, Leonidas Polk had foreseen the important function which railway's were destined to fill in the future development of the country; and he had foreseen that they would have an effect on politics and society not less than on commerce and manufactures. In a conversation with an old West Point friend in 1832 or 1833 on the phj'sical formation of the country, the rapid increase of its population, and the danger to the Union which might arise from a conflict of interests between different sections, Mr. Polk observed that the true preventive of sucTi a calamity would be found in the creation of a complete railway system which would so unite all parts of the country in the bonds of a common interest as to make a disintegration of the Union difficult, if not impossible. But he was not content to i)erceive the utility of railways and to point it out to others. Like his mother, he became an earnest promoter of railway enterprises, and in a letter written to her in July, 1834, ho first desciibes a visit made to Nash\alle "wdth his wife — "the best wife, though I say it, in this or any other country" — then refers to an address which he had drafted for a committee on railway's, and of Avliich the committee had distril)uted five thousand copies throughout the State of Tennessee.

The latter part r.f m:54 was a tinu' of nuidi anxiety.

The cholera, which had spread terror through the country in 1831 and 1832, made its appearance on Mr. Polk's plantation. Before September thirty-five cases had appeared, but only one proved fatal, and he beheved that, had he been called in time, even that single death might have been prevented. He was with his people night and day, rendering them every necessary service, and it was doubtless owing to his incessant vigilance and prompt use of the proper remedies that the mortahty among them was so slight. A characteristic incident of the year was his care of a distant but impoveiished kinsman, of whom he wrote to his mother as follows:

I have now with me old Charley Alexander, a full cousin of my father. He lives about fifteen miles from this, on Swan Creek; and having made several ineffectual attempts to see James Polki about a pension (he is very poor), I made an appointment for James at my house, and sent down one of my boys and a horse, and bad him brought up last night. James came to-day and saw liini, made out all his papers, and thmks he can easily secure the old man his pension, $80 per year since 1831, at which time the law in favor of miUtia applicants was passed. He is a very respectable old man, and has evidently a family Hkeness. He is now about eighty, and is blind. He has given me many interesting details in regard to our family history.

In the autumn of 1834 he went with Mrs. Polk to Raleigh to be with his sister, Mrs. Badger, with whom he remained until her death in the following spring. On returning to his parish he cousented, while continuing his farming operations, to take charge of the parish in Columbia as well, and soon raised sufficient funds to enable Bishop Otey to establish a Church school for girls, which was incorporated under the name of the " Colum-

1 James K. Polk, afterward President.

bia Institute" and was opened in llie ant uiiin of the same year.^ He was now tliorougldy employed and dee])ly interested in his work. His building and farming operations ; the Columbia parish under his sole charge; the gh'ls' school, of which he was a trustee; his young family, to which a daughter was now added; and the care and direction of his negroes — gave him abundant and varied occupation; but he was soon compelled to retire from active w^ork. His health again failed him, and his physicians recommended him to give up all active duties for a time, and he passed the summer in traveling through Kentucky. On his return he resigned his parish, but resumed his other duties with his usual energy, erecting on his estate a steam flouring-mill, and connecting with it the machinery required in the manufacture of bagging. On Sundays he officiated regidarly to a congi-egation consisting of his own and his brothers' families and their servants. The year which followed was perhaps the happiest of his life. His health was restored; his affairs were prosperous; his occupations were congenial; his family life was as nearly perfect as anything on this eai'th can be; on the horizon of the future no lightest cloud of threatening marred his prospects. But the clouds were soon to gather. Money losses fell upon him through the fault of others, and, for the first time in his life, he found himself embarrassed. It was while struggling with this unforeseen trouble, and while preparing to meet the harder stniggle which it would entail, that he was suddenly and unexpectedly called by the Church to the responsible and laborious

1 In 1865, at the close of the ciyil war, Mrs. Polk, in conimon with so many others in the Southern States, found herself without means of support. She accepted the position of teacher of Eng^lish literature in this institution, and remained there until the establishment of her own school in New Orleans. Louisiana.

position of Missionary Bishop of the vast region then known as the Sonthwest. He did not shrink, though he might well have done so, from the new and heavy labor which was laid upon liim. He accepted it as providential; and from any providential duty Leonidas Polk could not shrink. In taking orders he felt that he had enlisted in the army of the Church, and he was bound to obey orders to the utmost of his strength, without regard to personal considerations. In a narrative prepared by Mrs. Polk for the perusal of her children, there occurs the following touching passage:

This winter [1836-37] was a happy one — indeed, all our life was happy; but I enjoyed move of my husband's society theu than at any other period. We lived in a little cabin; our two children were hearty, and in my dear brother Lucius and his admirable wife we had congenial friends. More than all, my husband had leisure to be with me, and the evenings were spent in reading.

How hapxnly the days

Of Thalaha went by !

I knew I was happy; I enjoyed it, and often said, God gave us this to prepare for the storms which must come.

In the summer of 1837 our house was completed. As soon as we were in it, my husband began holding services for the negi-oes every Sunday, and devoted himseK to them. The sick were objects of his special attention. The foUowing winter pecuniary troubles began to annoy my dear husband. A firm for which he had become surety failed, and he was involved to the amount of $30,000; but he did not permit pecuuiary troubles to iuterfere with the happiness of his home.

The following summer passed very pleasantly vnth. our dear mother [Mrs. Polk], my sister, Susan Polk, Rufus and George. Now came what was one of the greatest trinls of mv life. I was called to gi\-e up my dear husband from

his home. The General Convention met in the fall of 1838, and appointed him missionary bishop of the Southwest — a vast field, embracing Arkansas, Indian Territoiy, ]\Iississippi, Louisiana, and Ahilmma. Home and all its endearments must be given up, and I must be left alone to bring up my children. Thank God, I did not hesitate or by any word influence his decision. I told him he was God's servant and soldier, and I had not even the right to have an opinion. There was no struggle in his mind; he never felt anything hard he was called upon to do for God, who had done so much for him; and though the acceptance of the office involved loss of property and separation from wife and children for months at a time, he did not hesitate. Mrs. Polk [his mother] remained with us until winter, and went with us as far as Cincinnati, where, on December 9,1838, he was consecrated, — Bishops Smith, Meade, Otey, and Mcllvaine being the consecrators. . . .

The preacher at the consecration of Bishop Polk was Bishop Mcllvaine, and, after telling- the stor}^ of the conversion of Cadet Polk, he concluded as follows:

the singular and very prominent evidence of the hand of God in this case was gi'eatly blessed to others. By and by he professed Christ in the sacrament of baptism, which was administered to him, with another recently turned to the Lord, in the chapel of the INIditary Academy, and in the presence of all the corps. After graduating at the institution and leaving the army, he passed through a regular course of study for the holy ministry, and was successively ordained deacon and presb^-ter. ]\lany years have elapsed. The chaplain has since been called to a higher order in the ministry and more enlarged responsibilities in the Church. The cadet, meanwhile, after many vicissitudes of active duty and of disabling ill-health, supposed he had settled liimself for the rest of his life as preacher and pastor to a humble and obscure congregation of negroes, whom he had collected together from neighboring plantations ; to wlioiii, living entirely upon

his own pecuniary means, he appropriated a part of his own house for a church ; and to whose eternal interests he had chosen cheerfully and happily to devote himself as their spiritual father, with no emolument but then* salvation. But such was just the spirit for the highest of all vocations in the Church. To be a servant of servants is the very school in which to jirepare for the chief ministry under Him who took on Him the form of a servant. The Church needed a missionary bishop for a vast field, for great self-denial, for untiring patience, for courageous enterprise. Her eye was dii-ected to the self-appointed pastor of that humble congregation. "With most impressive unanimity did she call him away to a work not indeed of more dignified duty, but of more eminent responsibihty; not indeed of more exquisite satisfaction to a Clu'istian's heart (for what can give a Christian's heart more satisfaction than to lead such of the poor to Christ?), but of severer trials and vastly greater difficulties and hardships. Counting the cost, he has not dared to dechne it. Regarding the call as of God, he has embraced the promised grace, and is now ready to be offered. Thus the chaplain has here met the beloved cadet again, seeing and adoring the end of the Lord in that remarkable beginning. And now, with unspeakable thankfulness to God for what he here witnesses, may he say to this candidate-elect for labor and sacrifice, in the words of St. Paul to his beloved disciple : " Thou, therefore, my son, be strong in the gi-ace that is in Jesus Christ. Endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. And the things thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also."

In the consecration of Leonidas Polk to the episcopate, the Aniei'iean Chnrcli felt that it had cause of encouragement. With an honored and historic name, with a bearing which impressed all who met him, witli a courtesy which won all hearts, with a courage w^hicdi shunned no danger, with a devotion which shrank from no sacrifice, he was a standard-bearer worthy of her cause. It

Avas in his lioiiKi that loss was felt, and the loss there was irr('i)arable. But, thoufj^li it was always felt, it was l)orne in silence. The n()l)le woman whom he had loved from childhood, and whom he proudly called "the best wife in this or any otlun- country," was as noble as himself. Thenceforward, thoug-h she felt that he belonged less to her than to the Church, and though she sighed for the old days when he had been all her own, she did not murmur, but strengthened and stood by him as a helpmeet in the harder life on which he had entered.

In entering on his missionary work Bishop Polk was obliged to leave his affairs — already scmiewhat embarrassed as they were — to the management of his brothers, and he foresaw that in consequence of the way in which their business was conducted a serious crisis might occur at no distant time. The Polks were men of energy and enterprise, ready to avail themselves of the advantages of the new country in Avhieli the\^ had settled. Their estates were contiguous, and in any aifair in which any one of them might engage he counted, \Aithout asking:, on the sui)port and assistance of the rest. In their financial arrangements eac^li of them was the indorser of the others; and the abimdaut credit which they thus enjoyed was a constant temptation to engage in enterprises which were beyond their means. Besides, as the (>xperience of the bishop had already proved, it was only too possible for one of them to make heavy losses through other parties and so to involve his brothers. For the moment there was little to be done but to make such arrangements as were possible, and, ha\ing done so, the bishop set out on his first visitation in the montli of January, 1889.

His jurisdiction was enormous, extending over the States of Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, the

Indian Territory, and the republic of Texas. For six months he journeyed, chiefly on horseback, often in rude vehicles, sometimes on foot, through patliless forests, open prairies, dangerous swamps, and swollen streams — visiting every community and many lonely dwellings where the children of the Church were to be found; gathering congregations, holding services, preaching, baptizing, confirming, and celebrating the sacrament wherever and whenever he could find an opi)ortunity. Some quaint anecdotes of his experience have been preserved, all illustrating the versatility as well as the devotion of the man. One whimsical adventure may be taken as a sample of the rest. On one occasion he took passage on a steamer bound for Shreveport, Louisiana, on which there was no accommodation for passengers, and he was indebted to the kindness of a fellow-passenger, a fur-trader, who had formerly been master of a vessel sailing from Nantucket, for the use of a bearskin to sleep on. Next da}^ he saw his companion take an observation of the sun, and, after waiting a few minutes, begin to read his Bible. Asking an explanation, the captain told him that his wife was a devout Episcopalian, that he had agreed with her that they should read their Bibles daily at the same hour, and that, in order to be sure of always reading at the same hour with his wife, it was his custom to make an observation whenever it was possible to do so. At night the steamer struck a snag and sank. The bishop had the satisfaction of assisting his friend in saving his peltries; but the steamer was about to be abandoned, when the bishop suggested a plan by which it might be raised. Under his directions the crew went to work with a will, and the boat was raised. Before it could be repaired, however, to continue its voyage, another steamer passed and took the bisho})

140 PBEACHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. [1839

and the fur-trader on board. At Shreveport, after visiting a colony of Episcopalians a few miles out of town, the bishop endeavored to make arrangements to hold a service, but his overtures were not well received. He was bluntly told, " We have never had any preaching here, and we don't want any." At last it was agreed that if a certain Mr. Blank should make no objections, the service might be held. Mr. Blank said that he had left Maine because he had been dosed to death there with rehgion, and he wanted none of it at Shreveport; but he agi-eed that if a place could be found in which to hold a service, he would make no objections. A place was found in an unfinished house; but the owner, after consenting that the bishop might use it, withdrew his consent, saying that he must be guaranteed against damage to his property, and estimating the possible damage at six hundred dollars. The friendly trader at once put up the money, to be paid to the owner, in whole or in part, as might be determined by a committee of impartial citizens, to reimbiu-se him for any possible damage. The demand of the owner of the house seemed to be a subterfuge to escape from his previous consent to allow his house to be used; but it may have been a just precaution, after all; for when it was known that the service was actually to be held, a mob of raftsmen and other rowdies sent him word that they would either prevent the meeting or disperse it by force. The bishop went calmly on with his preparations; Captain Barnard, the fui--trader, procured a table, covered it with a white cloth, on which he laid his Bible, and then went through the town ringing a hand-bell to give notice of the ser^dce. At the last moment, when a mob, as well as a congrega^ tion, was gathering, the sunken steamer wliich the bishop had raised cainc into port, and the crew, hearing of the

disturbance, rushed to the scene of the expected riot, and declared that the bishop should not be molested. He was no " common preacher," they said; he knew how to work, and they would like to see any one who would hinder him from preaching if he wished to do so. Accordingly the service was held in quietness.

In Texas he had some rough experiences. The "republic " was at that time a place of refuge for insolvent debtors and for not a few fugitives from justice. Even the bishop was suspected of belonging to one or other of those classes. A Texan, happening to hear that he was one of the Polks of Tennessee, sat for a while silent, and then said, "Well, stranger, if it is a fair question, I would give a heap to know what brought you here." The bishop smilingly told him that he was a clergyman who had come to preach to the people. " Oh, my friend," replied the Texan, " go back, go back; we are not worth saving!"

When he had reached New Orleans, after visiting that diocese and the diocese of Alabama, the bishop took passage on a steamer which was about to sail from that city to Paris, Ky., but just as he was going on board he heard that one of his West Point classmates had been imprisoned for debt, and went to see him. The delay cost him his passage ; for when he reached the levee the steamer had sailed without him, to his great regret, as he had expected to travel with a number of friends who were on board. Next day he sailed on another steamer, and on arriving at Smithland he found the steamer on which he was to have sailed lying at the wharf, disabled by the bursting of a boiler; and when he went on board he saw the dead bodies of two members of the party with which he was to have traveled. Not one of the whole party had escaped injury. Dcejily thankful for

his preservation, he reached his home after a luissiouary journey of about five thousand miles, and remained there attending to his private affairs, except when visiting his mother at Raleigli, until he was ready to undertake his second \dsitation.

His second missionary journey was chiefly over the same gi-ound as the first in Mississij)pi, Alabama, and Louisiana. It lasted continuously for six months, and was extremely laborious. He performed episcopal duties, it is true, consecrating churches and confirming the baptized; but the clergj' were few, and his main work was that of an evangelist, preaching from house to house as he had opportunity, and constantly exhorting the people to care not only for their own souls, but for the spiritual welfare of their negroes, and to them he called their special attention. He soon began to perceive that if the work of the Church were to be done with efficiency, his vast jurisdiction would have to be supplied with more chief pastors. On his return he "wrote to Bishop Mcllvaine as foUows:

CoLiniBiA, August 10,1840. My dear Brother: We write at long intervals. Oui- cares, doubtless, increase and demand more of our time daily as we pass through life. I find it so. You must much more. But you have, you may be sure, the same place in my heart v.hicli has owned you as its tenant for these fourteen years, and I think you are quite likely to retain it to the last. I should have written you sooner after my return, but I saw by the papers you were on the Aving, and knew not your whereabouts. I sympathize with you in regard to yoiu* support. Notliing can be more trying than to wait upon the tardy movements of a thoughtless — I will not say thankless — people; and of all human ills, debt to a clergyman is, pei-haps, as grievous as pixiy. It is the parent of a large progeny, and they are all ax'mcd against the peace of the unhappy debtor. I was in-

discreet enough some time since to endorse for a particular friend of mine — one of my communicants when I last had charge of a church; my vestryman, my warden, my right arm in every good work. He was all I could wish as a Christian layman. But, alas, he was overtaken by reverses of the times and prostrated, and I am charged Avith the payment of a large amount on his account. If I escape with $15,000, I shall be thankful. But I wovdd do again what I did then, for I thought I was doing a good work. I mean, of course, in the same circumstances. It, however, greatly annoys me, as, besides the necessary attention in arranging and running the debt in banks, etc., it lessens my means of usefulness in that particular. I trust, however, that this state of things will have an end.

How is it with regard to the consecration sermon *? Was there a balance due on that account not paid by the Cincinnati congregation ? Bishoj) Meade dropped me a hne, not long since, concerning it. He thought you had been taxed with part of the exiDcnse. I thought otherwise, as Mr. Johns long ago wrote me that he only wanted one hundred dollars to make up the whole amount. This sum I sent him. Please speak of this in your next, as you ought not to have been burdened with it. You see I write freely, because to you I feel I may speak frankly,

I see you have been in the East; I suppose, to bring out your book. Did you find a pubhsher to your liking? I should hke to have met you there, but it was impossible. Up to the close of my last \dsitation I had been eighteen months in the episcopate, and had spent only four of the eighteen with my family at my own home, so that I felt that I could not go away this summer. I have fully seen the ground allotted me by the church, and found it was quite impossible for me to do anything effectively over so wide an extent of country. Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Arkansas embrace an area which would require two years of incessant active labor to visit as a bishop ought to visit a field assigned him, wnthout one day of rest intervening. It is in extent about equal to all of France, the surface exceeding rough,

and the facilities of communication, off the rivers, wi'etched, I have often felt strongly that a missionary bishop ought not to have a family. He should be literally married to the Church. He should have a thought for nothing else: a man of one idea, of one book, of one object. The work of his ]\Iaster demands the whole man. I often think of a remark tauntingly made by your fellow-laborer, the Romanist bishop of Ohio, to Campbell the Baptist, in their theological bout, when discussing the doctrine of the celibacy of the clergy. He asked Campbell if he did not think St. Paul would have cut a fine figure, while "visiting the churches of Asia, with a wife and seven screaming children following in his train !

Bishop Otey, not finding himself fully occupied in his diocese, or finding he might be as profitably engaged in dispensing occasional ser\T.ces elsewhere, has consented to take Mississippi under his care, which has lightened my labors to that extent. His health, however, is now bad;. and I fear, unless he is soon relieved, he may be unable to labor anywhere. He has gone to Virginia SpiTngs.

How do you find the Eastern clerical mind on the subject of what is peculiarly Pusepsm ? I have not yet been able to see the tracts on Justification and Baptism. I have had those only which form the first part of the series, on the Apostohcal Succession, and found in them nothing which has not been written before. Seabury was less harsh than I expected, though his notice was in keeping with his system.

What do you think of Whittingliam's sermon ? I liked it very much. It seems to me to carry ministers of the right stamp neither to outward order, nor outward academical or other merely human institutions or arrangement, but to the throne of gi-ace.

He is, I fear, though, too rapid in his provisions for Texas. Three bishops are more than are at all necessary. One will do all the work to be done there for years; two certainly. I suppose he wanted them to estabUsh a chm'ch at once, and cut off the occasion for a spurious episcopacy.

Vei-y affectionately youi- brother in Christ,

Leoxidas Polk.

In November, 1840, he set out on his third inissiouary visitation, travehng this time in a hght carriage drawn by a pair of stout horses and driven by one of his negro servants. In this conveyance he made his way to Memphis and thence to Little Rock, where the state of the roads compelled him to aljandon it, and he pursued his journey on horseback through the Indian Territory into Texas, returning through Louisiana and Mississippi to his home in Tennessee. The deep sense of responsibility by which he was controlled, and something, too, of the nature of the work in which he was engaged, may be gathered from the following extracts from letters to his mother:

Little Rock, January 18, 1841. My dear mother wiU permit me to wish her a very happy New Year. I know not how other.s feel, but it appears to me as if, in the journey of life, when I get to this season, I am standing on the top of a high hill, up which I had been struggling from midsummer, and that from the heights I might cast my eye backward and foi'ward overlooking the months of the old year behind me and of the new before me. I feel always like stopping and standing still to caU up the recollections of the events of the one year and looldng forward to the duties of the other. 'This is the season at which we may particularly remember the things '* we have left undone which we ought to have done,'' and to think upon how much we have done that is sinful and what needs to be repented of. For myself, I feel that I have done but too little in accomplishing the end of my creation in the year that is now gone. I have meditated too little; I have humbled myself too infrequently before the throne of God; I have been too seldom found in prayer ; I have watched against the intrusion of a worldly spirit too little ; t have thought too seldom of death, of its inevital^le certainty, of the necessity of being constantly prepared for it. I have not governed my temper as I ought; I have not sufficiently hoarded my time and applied it to profltal^lc uses. All these things stand up

before mc when I look back on the past; and T resolve, with the strength and errace of God my Saviour, I will amend in all these things for the future year. I think thus: that multitudes have been swept by the hand of the ruthless destroyer into eternity dui'ing the year now gone, that as many are to follow after them in the year now begun; and I ask myself if I should be, as I may be, of that number, how I shall feel wlien the summons comes. God grant that I may be neither terrified nor alarmed, but calm, composed, and at rest on the bosom of my compassionate Sa\'iour. I suggest these things, my dear mother, because they are prompted by the season and because they may be alike profitable to us both.

I have now been near a month in Arkansas, \'isiting different parts of it, and I shall not be able to leave it and the Indian Territory west for a month hence. I go to the Northwest in the course of next week, to Fayetteville, then to Fort Gibson, and across the Indian Teiritoiy to Fort Towson, thence over Red River and thi'ough Louisiana and Texas before I return. It is a sad trial to be so much absent from my family, but I am hoping it will not be so always. If possible, I wish to be at home in May.

part0003

I hope George has long been recovered from the ill tura he was suffering when I parted with him. My kind regards to him. You may say to him that I shattered the " buggy " very effectually coming through the swamp, and that I am now handsomely equipped with saddles, bridles, martingales, and saddle-bags, and that my fine buffalo-rug makes a veiy full covering for my own and Armstead's fixtures. I find the horses fine travelers under the saddle. IMy only apprehension is that we may attract the regards of the horse-thieves. But if we should, we must bow to a necessity that we cannot avoid.

I had a letter from Fanny. AU well. . . .

Pine Creek, Texas, February 2,1841.

My dear Mother: I wrote you not long ago from Little

Rock, and sinct; that from Van Buren — no, I am mistaken —

I wrote Fanny from that point, and also Mrs. Devereux from

a point above in the Cherokee Nation. From that letter you

will hear of how and where I have been engaged. I have since then come across to this part of the world through the Choctaw country, and crossed Red River into Texas, this land of promise. I am now about fifteen miles above the mouth of the Kiamachis, and above Fort Towson. I came from Fort Towson hei'e to visit an Episcopal family of the name of Johnson, from Baltimore. The father of the family, now dead, was a cousin of James Johnson. I go down the river to-day by the way of Gainsboro toAvard the part of the country where our kinsmen, the Hawkins, reside, thence into Arkansas and Louisiana.

Spring Hill, Arkansas, February 10,1841.

I have dropped down some hundred miles from the point at which I was when I dated the above, and stopped, in coming down, at both Ben's and Henry's in Arkansas, and at William's in Texas. I crossed the river at Jonesboro and came into the Indian Territory, thence into Arkansas, and into Texas again to William's, and down some sixty miles on the Texas side [of the landing opposite this place].

I am going from this to Shi-eveport to-day, and I have concluded to take passage on a steamboat to that place, as one of my horses has the scratches, and I fear may fail. The mud thi'ough which I have had to force my way has seemed almost intolerable. I have had, as you may suppose, some rather rough fare. A few nights ago I had to pass the night in a cotton-house on the top of a pUe of cotton, with dogs and negroes lying around, aiid a hamper-basket to hang my clothes upon. But my health is good, and I manage, on the whole, to make myself comfortable. I travel with my buffalo-robe and a supply of blankets.

I shall be glad to hear from you at New Orleans, where I hope to be both going and returning from Texas. I go to to consecrate the church.

I find Folly, one of your old carriage-horses, the finest saddle-horse I have ever traveled. He performs admirably, and is just what I want. You may say to George that the roan cannot keep pace with him, and I have feared I shall have to leave him. You see I write in great haste.

April.'), Red River. 3Iy dear Mother: I wrote you about a fortnight siuce from Lost Prairie, a thousand miles up this i-iver from the plantation of Messrs. Turner & Hamilton, giving- an account of my tour up to that time. The letter I hope you have received. Since that time I have been engaged at various points on this, performing services, preaching, visiting, etc. I am now on my way to Natchez, where we expect to be this evening. I find the field quite white to the harvest, and no laborer here. There is no portion of the whole country so destitute, I presume, as Louisiana. She has not, so far as I Icnow, a single church west of the jMississippi River ; and I find feAV or no Presbyterians, and only now and then a wandering :Methodist. The Sabbath is no Sa])bath here. The stores and shops are kept open just as on other days, and the planters and tradesmen look upon that day as a day set apart for laying in supplies and doing odd jobs. And yet they express a desu-e to have churches estabUshed amongst them, and avow a willingness to support a minister should he come among them. At Natehitdoehes, where I spent a week, the better part of Passion Week, and where I was on Sunday last, I had to defer my Sunday services until twelve o'clock in order to get a congregation, as up to that time the people were engaged, by permission of an express statute of the pohee authorities, in trading at these stores, and this state of things obtahied tlu'oughout the coimtry on the river. I pi-eaehed a numljer of times there, — T think five, — and found my audience continually increasing. ()n the last occasion it was positively crowded, and I ]io])(' that good was done. We preached in the court-house. They were very anxious that T should remain with them a month, promised to i>ut a subscription forth directly to build a cliurch, and i)le(lged themselves to support a minister if I would send them one. There are a good many French Catholics there. They set lightly by their rehgiou. IMany came to oui- services dunng the whole time I was there. We could make our impression not only on the American part of the population, 1)ut also on the French. T sliall take steps to endeavor to have their wants supplied. 1 stopped at

Alexandi'ia, and also at another point in the midst of the Great Raft, called Shreveport in honor of the captain of the snag-boats who removed the Raft. Tliose points are destitute, as well as the country surrounding, the latter particularly.

The anticipation, mentioned in one of these letters, of an eneonnter with horse-thieves, was well founded. The countr}^ was overrun by desperadoes who were held in check only by the fear of desperate resistance. Riding on one occasion tlirough the Indian Territory, lie saw two men approaching, and knew, even at a distance, what they were. He rode quietly on, however, keeping an eye upon them, but otherwise giving no sign. They nodded to him as they passed, and he returned their salutation. That night lie stopped at the house of John Ross, the Cherokee cliief, and when he mentioned the incident and gave a description of the men, Ross congratulated him on his escape. The men, he said, were well-known ruffians, and he added, " They kncAV you must be well armed, or they would surely have attacked you." When the bishop assui-ed him that he was not armed, and that a man of his profession could not carry arms, Ross was at first unwilling to believe him, and said that it was dangerous for any one to go unarmed in that country. Throughout the evening he entertained his guest with cordial hospitality, but on bidding him farewell in the morning the bishop noticed that he had become cold and distant. During the day he asked his servant whether anything had occurred to offend the cliief. The negro could not tell, but later said that after the bishop had retired Ross had asked if it was true that they traveled tlirough that country without weapons. ''I was not going to let him and his ])eopl(^ tliiuk that aljout us," said the negro, "so I told him iliat we were

always heavily anncd. And so you are," he continued. "Aren't you armed, master, with the sword of the Spirit ?" The cause of Ross's change of demeanor was obvious. He resented what he supposed to have been the bishop's falsehood.

Toward the close of his third visitation Bishop Polk came to the conclusion that some change in his an-ange-ments must be made, in order to obviate the necessity of such long-continued separations from his family. He did not for a moment think of abandoning his work; and although he was convinced that his vast jurisdiction ought to be distributed into several jurisdictions under the care of several bishops, he had no assurance the Chm-ch would undertake the responsiliiiity of sending and supporting the men who were needed. There remained but one way in wliich the separation from his family might at least be shortened, namely, by the change of residence from Tennessee to some point nearer the geographical centei*- of his work, from which he might make shorter tours instead of one continuous visitation lasting many months at a time. For that reason chiefly he resolved, after due consideration, to purchase a plantation somewhere in Louisiana, and there make his home.

The estate which he ultimately purchased was Leigh-ton, on Bayou La Fourche, aboiit sixty miles from New Orleans. The removal was, at best, a sad one. In spite of cares, his Tennessee home was very dear to him. He had many friends there, among whom he had hoi)ed and expected to pass his lifetime. His farm was doing well, and he had just finished arrangements for better service to his neighbors and their servants hy the erection of a commodious chapel, wliich he called St. John's, and which he consecrated during the last summer that he

picture0

St. John's Church — Ashwood.

was to spend in its neighborhood. It may be well worth while to insert here an account of St. John's and its mixed congregation, which was written at the time by a gentleman from Philadelphia:

In this county, iipon the road leading from Columbia to Mount Pleasant, and aljout six miles from the former place, in a gi'ove of majestic and towering oaks, may be seen a neat brick church of simple Gothic architecture ; its inteiior plain and appropriate, and capable of seating five hundred persons. It has been just completed, and is the result of the joint liber-aUty of Bishop Polk and three of his brothers, who, with a spirit worthy of commendation and imitation, have thus devoted a portion of the wealth with which God has blessed them to his service.

Without aid from abroad these gentlemen have erected and paid for this edifice, and presented it, together with a plot of about six acres of land, to the diocese. The lot has been selected from an eligible portion of the bishop's j)kintation, within a few hundred yards of whose mansion the church stands. It has been erected for the convenience of the few families in the neighborhood, who, with a large number of negroes upon their plantations, will make quite a congregation. For this latter class the bishop has been in the habit, for a long time past, of holding regular services in his own house. They will now have an opportunity of worshiping in a temple which they may almost call their own.

After referring to the services in the church on the day of its consecration, the writer continues:

There is yet one thing which I must not forget to notice. I have said that on the adjoining plantations there are negroes for whose spiritual good this church was in part erected. By the time the white congi'egation were seated in the body of the church, the door, the vestibule, the gallery, and stahease were crowded with blacks, even the vostry-room was filled with them, one old man sitting within the doorway almost at

the very feet of the clergy. A happier group I have seldom seen. Some of them had prayer-books in their liands, but, for their general benefit in singing, the psalms and hymns were given out in the old-fashioned Avay — two lines at a time; and, I am sure, during the singing, the loudest strains of praise came from the sable groups.

When the whites had communed, a cordial invitation from the bishop was given to the blacks to come forward. At the same time he explained in a few words what was required of them in worthily partaking of that sacrament. Then quite a goodly number came, with much reverence and devotion, to that feast, precious ahke to bond and free. Ah ! could some of our friends have witnessed that scene, how it would have silenced the suspicion that a slaveholder values not the soul of his slave.

Thus does the enlarged benevolence of these men embrace a class hitherto too much neglected, a class which, in our good city of brotherly love, are suffered to grovel in ignorance, degi-adation, and sin. Here will they learn to worship God in spii-it and in truth ; here be taught to pray with the heart and with the imderstanding also ; and here, when death has arrested their com-se upon earth, will they find a restiug-place under the tall old oaks in their own churchyard; for the lot upon which the church is built has, for some time, been set apart for the purpose.

In Septeml)er, 1841, Bishop Polk left home to attend the Triennial General Convention of the Chm-cli, and while there he was invited by the deputies from Louisiana to accept the bishopric of their diocese. The request was approved by the House of Bishops, wliicli then proceeded to elect him, under a special canon, to the diocesan bishopric which had been offered to him. On October 16, 1841, the House of Deputies confirmed the election ; and on that day, ha\4ng resigned Ids missionary jurisdiction, Leonidas Polk became Bishop of Louisiana.

CHAPTER V.

THE PLANTATION HOME IN THE DIOCESE OF LOUISIANA.

1841 TO 1854.

Sacrifices by the bishop and his family. — The family position in Maury County. — Election of James K. Polk as President. — Family affection. — Family connections. — Becomes a planter at Leighton. — A noble motive, but disastrous result. — Incompatibility of sugar-planting and the episcopacy. — Death of the bishop's mother. — " The Old North State." — Patriarchal life at Leighton. — Southern hospitality. — A Southern house. — Children's rights. — Social life. — A family hospital. — An ag. gressive temperament. — Nobility of character. — Capacity for work. — The bishop's wife. — Family instruction. — Mammy Betsey. — Life among the slaves. — The "Rolling Ball." — Punch on a sugar-plantation. — Punishing a chicken-thief. — An old-time Southern mammy. — Experience of a governess in the bishop's family. — The libi-ary. — Family devotions. — A baptism which did not " take." — Sunday-school among the negroes. — Death in the quarters. — Sanctity of family life. — Negro marriages. — Care of the negro children. — The beginning of troubles. — Private interests sacrificed to public duties. — The negroes' family pride. — The bishop's hopefulness. — 111 effects of optimism. — A woman's "slow courage." — Routine of the mistress of a Southern plantation. — Literature at Leighton. — The cholera. — Hospital work. — The bishop attacked by cholera. — Death of a faithful servant. — Loss of crops. — Loss by tornado. — Trust in God. — Robbed by breach of trust. — Prosperity of episcopal work. — Ravages of yellow fever. — Leighton taken by creditors. — Purchases in Mississippi. — Removal to New Orleans. — Appointed rector of Trinity Church. — The bishop's pastoral and episcopal cliai--acter. — Developing one's individual character. — Parochial administration. — A stickler for episcopal dignity and rights. — Power of rebuke.

While there were personal disadvantag:es connected with Bishop Polk's removal to Louisiana, the CLnrch was ejreatly the gainer. To the bisliop and his family the re-

moval from Tennessee, as has been said, involved many saci'ifices. In Maury County and its neighborhood the Polk family held a commanding position. All of Colonel William Polli's sons, except Thomas, had been settled there for several years. Many of their cousins had estates there, and were known as wealthy and successful men. One of them, James K. Polk, was elected President of the United States in 1844. The affection existing among these numerous kinsmen was unusually strong, and their relations to each other were entirely harmonious. Naturally they had formed connections with other families of similar position. Mr. Lucius Polk, for example, had married a relative of President Jackson, and the marriage had been celebrated at the White House in Washington. Thus, the Polk family of Tennessee enjoyed a social life and a public influence which was really exceptional, and in their almost patriarchal society the bishop held the chief place of affection and distinction. At the time of his election to Louisiana he had made arrangements for the management of his private affairs which would have released him to a great extent from the personal supervision of private business, and would have left him free to devote his whole time to the Church while his family resided in a country noted for its beauty and salubrity. His acceptance of the episcopate of Louisiana had this great compensation, however, that it would permit him to make shorter visitations, so that, while a large part of his time must be spent away from home in the performance of official duties, his absences would at least be less trying to himself and his family.

But this great advantage was to some extent offset by the necessity of encumbering himself with large and heavy business cares. Mrs. Polk, on the death of her mother, had inherited a considerable estate, and it was left

to her choice either to accept her share of her mother's property in money, or to take hnndreds of negroes who had belonged to Mrs. Devereiix. The easiest course for the bishop would have been to take the money and avoid the care of managing a large plantation. But Louisiana was distinctively a plantation State; and the bishop felt that in order to exercise the best influence in a community of planters, he himself must be a planter. His mission was to the servant as well as to the master; and he beheved that an example of dutiful care of his own people on his own estate would be the best possible exposition of the duty of the master to the slave. Accordingly, Leighton was bought, and the bishop with his family took possession of it with four hundred negroes. The motive was altogether noble and unselfish; the result was utterly disastrous. The management of so complex and exacting an estate as a sugar plantation on that scale was inconsistent with the full performance of episcopal duty; and as the latter was not neglected, the former suffered. The accidents and losses incident to sugar-planting, which another man might have retrieved, and which the bishop would easily have retrieved but for his episcopal occupations, plunged him into financial embarrassments and ended in an almost total loss of his whole property, for, as he afterward said, " If I had had nothing else on my hands but my worldly affairs, I should have experienced no difficulty. But I have been, of course, very much hampered by my other engagements, which to me must be always of paramount importance." It is not intended here to write the history of Bishop Polk's episcopate in Louisiana. In its details it differed little from the work of the episcopate in other new countries. It had peculiar difficulties, of course, on account of the lack of facilities of travel, and still more on ac-

count of the character of the population, whicli, outside of New Orleans, was then chiefly composed of French Creoles, adherents of the Roman Catholic Church. Suffice it to say that in the eighteen years which followed his attendance at his first diocesan convention in Louisiana in January, 1842, he had the satisfaction to see the Church increase in the number of its clergy more than sevenfold, in the number of its communicants more than tenfold, and in the number of its parishes and missions more than twentyfold. The present chapter will be devoted to a rapid review of the bishop's life dm-ing the fifteen years following his removal to Leighton rather than to a record of his official acts, and in this review the "\\Titer is glad to avail himself of documents wliich have been kindly placed at his disposal.

Wlien Bishop Polk removed to Louisiana it was the universal custom of .sugar-planters throughout the season of cane-grinding to keep their mills running without intermission, even on Sunday. It was held on all hands, even by devout religious persons, that Sunday labor at that season must be regarded as a work of necessity, since a single frost might at any time greatly diminish the value of their crops. The bishop, liowever, resolved that he and all his family must keep the Lord's Day hoi}', and that, be the consequences what they might, his servants should not work on that day. It was in vain that his neighbors remonstrated against this innovation on the customs of the country. They urged the loss which he would surely suffer soon or late; they represented to him that the negroes on the neighboring plantations, when required to work on Sunday, would become dissatisfied and discontented ; and his overseer predicted that, by the loss of one day in seven, his sugar-making would be so diminished that his reputation as a practical man

of business would necessarily suffer. To all this the bishop replied that the course he had adopted was the only course consistent Avith his duty as a Christian; that by divine command the man-servant and the maid-servant of his neighbors had the same right as his own to one day of complete rest; that, in his opinion, he would not fall much, if at all, behind his neighbors in the saving of his crops; and that, come what might, he would do what he believed the law of God required. Gradually his course gained the approval of his neighbors. Within a few years his example was generally followed, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that it entailed no serious loss to the interests of the planters.

In 1845 the bishop's mother died. The deep love which he bore her was warmly expressed in a letter to his sister, Mrs. Kenneth Raynor, of North Carolina.

Thibodeaux, January 10,184G. On my return from New Orleans a few days since, I read your letter informing me of the death of our dear mother. How deeply the stroke came upon us you may well imagine. The presence of such a mother, if not within immediate access, at least within reach, of one so wise, so prudent, so kind, so affectionate, so generally tender, is a blessing, from my experience of life, but rarely enjoyed. The perfect consciousness of that which was right, and the firm and more than feminine decision with which it was invariably pursued, gave to her character an elevation the more imposing because of the simplicity and naturalness out of which these traits so conspicuously shone. She was to us the best blessing God ever gave us, and we cannot be adequately grateful for the mercy. One thing, however, we may do, and that is, by humbly and piously giving our whole hearts to God, to seek to manifest a purpose at least to nnitate her virtues and finally be sharers of her reward.

The twelve years of his residence at Leighton passed rapidly, and, in spite of all misfortunes, happily away. Mrs. Polk, in notes which she wrote for her childi*en long afterward, said:

These were happy days. In the winter we had our friends with us. In the summer we were quiet and sometimes alone ; and how I enjoyed those little inteiwals of leisure! They were very few, and when I sometimes complained how httle I saw of him, he would always answer, with his pleasant smile, " Never mind, wife ; we shall have time enough in heaven."

The bishop himself described his home life in a letter to his sister:

My wife and children are aU now with me, and I am enjoying their society greatly, at no time more. I pass my time in the instruction of Hamilton and Fanny; my daughter in mathematics and the classics, Hamilton alone in the latter, my study hours being from nine a.m. till two P.M. I am highly pleased to witness then* advancement, which I would fain beheve quite as decisive as it has hitherto been under instructors less interested in their improvement.

They all sing, and that pleases me. Should you hear us sometimes accompan\-ing the piano to " The Old North State," you would think we were hearty lovers of ah her simphcity, her honesty, and her pines — as we assuredly claim to be. So much for my children. And now when are we to see you and yours ? I hope during the next winter. I go to the General Convention, and presume I wUl be in Raleigh, but I cannot promise. I will if I can.

The home life at Leighton was one of patriarchal simplicity and beauty. A niece of Mrs. Polk, who passed nearly a j'ear there, has thus recorded her recollections of it:

Leighton, the residence of Bishop Polk in Louisiana, was a large comfortable house, which wore at all seasons an air of

clieerful, hearty hospitality, such as can only be imparted to a home from the hearts of its master and mistress.

The lawn in front sloped to the Bayou La Fourche, and was surrounded by a magnificent hedge of Cherokee roses, which, growing in the wild luxuriance that vine attains in a genial chmate, was in some places twelve or fifteen feet broad across the top, and perfectly impenetrable to all but the smallest bu-ds. The house, with its long roof sloping in one unbroken line from the ridge-pole to the eaves of the lower piazza, stood well back from the parish road in front, and from the plantation road by wliich it was approached at the side, and which separated the gi-ounds from the cane-fields and the negro quarters. The back lawn, containing the offices and the rooms of the house servants, was divided from the stables by a hedge of fig-trees, any one of which would have served the purpose of Zaceheus and supported a small-sized man on its limbs.

Here for nearly a year I was made to feel that I was one of the children of the household. The wide portico in front — on which looked the windows of the front parlor, the hall, the bishop's study, and Mrs. Polk's bedroom — was the afternoon summer parlor, where the family gathered, and, with the hall itself, was the play-room of the children. It was one of the bishop's maxims that "children had rights as well as grown folks," and one of their rights, most strenuously insisted on and protected, was the freedom of the whole house. He would never allow the smallest of them to be confined to the nursery. He used to say that good manners could be taught to girls and boys, but that easy, unconscious ones must be inhaled with the air of their daily life. Mrs. Polk, who had been brought up in the strictest manner, used sometimes to make spasmodic efforts to introduce a little of its spirit into her government, but the genial nature of the bishop would always in the end conquer her scruples. I have often heard her laugh, and say, " Father is away so much that of course it is holiday when he comes homo, and I believe I need a holiday as well as the children." She felt that she could afford to relax the reins when his hand was

near to tierliten them, if needful, and guide the wild yomig creatures over the rough places of life.

The life at Leighton was preeminently sociable. Scarcely two consecutive days passed without company to breakfast, dinner, or tea, and the "prophet's chamber" was seldom empty for more than a week at a time. But company was never allowed to inteniipt the family routine. Lessons went on at the usual hours, and Mrs. Polk attended to her household duties, while the guests entertained themselves in the parlors or the bishop's study, or in stroUing or riding with him over the cane-fields, or in the more serious duty of going through the hospital, which the bishop visited daily whenever there was a patient in it.

Guests from New Orleans frequently came up unexpectedly, and it was no uncommon thing to see the steamer stop at the front gate and deposit a passenger who came for a day or a week, sure of a welcome and a lodging; for the house was so large that it was seldom filled to the utmost, and there was always room at the table for all who came.

Nor was it only the spiritual welfare of his neighbors and friends that he had at heart; he was always endeavoring to improve their temporal condition as well, and on his visits to the General Convention he never omitted learning all he could respecting the improvements in the manufacture of sugar, seeing new machinery, and testing it himself before trying to introduce it among the planters around him.

The bishop used to say of himself that he was "naturally aggi'essive," and I tliink he was right; but a yet stronger trait of his character, and one which he cultivated instead of repressed, was his strong sense of justice and desire to deal it out as impartially to his opponents as to his friends. Although anything approaching deceit or prevarication always excited his contempt and indignation, I have heard liim more than once, after giving way and expressing these feehngs, add in a softened tone: " But I must not be too hard on it. It is the failing of the weak in mind and body, and the natural result of fear." He always sought to instill into the hearts of his ohildron that perfect love which casteth out

fear, and he used often to say that where fear of punishment was the predominant feehng in the heart of a child, deceitfulness would inevitably be the result. His capacity for work was very great, but I think he was able to accomplish much in a short time because he possessed in an eminent degree the ability to throw off business thoughts in the hours of relaxation, which hours were always spent in the family circle. Five minutes after he left his study he was the ''biggest boy" of the family, singing comic songs, telling amusing stories, or entering into the play of the moment with a real and vm affected zest which rendered father the " best fellow in the woi-ld," as I once heard his youngest son say at the mature age of six and a half. To make a kite for this youngster and then help him to fly it was a delight to both; and he once carried into the pulpit a black eye which he had received when helping to raise a kite which was too lai'ge for the boy to manage alone.

I cannot close these recollections [adds Mrs. Polk's niece] without mention of the woman who was the presiding influence of this home. A daughter of John Devereux, of The Ferns, County Wexford, Ireland, and Frances Pollok, she was a great-granddaughter of Thomas Pollok, of Balgra, Scotland, president of the colony of North Carolina and major-general of the colonial forces. But she also was a descendant of Jonathan Edwards, her grandmother being Eunice Edwards, the sixth daughter of that illustrious man. Of unusual character and intelligence, Mrs. Polk passed a long and eventful life in fullest sympathy with her husband.

I was married under his roof; and turning to me after he had performed the ceremony, he said, in the hearing of all assembled: "After living a year in the house with yom- aunt, you do not need any homilies from me on the duties of a good wife. I can only tell your husband that, if you profit by her example, he will find he has di-awn a prize." Left for months at a time the head not only of the house, but of the plantation, Mrs. Polk was always ready and competent to meet any exigencies that might arise in the direction of either. She never assumed responsibilities, but never shrank

from bearing any that her position imposed upon hor, gladly easting them all outwardly on her husband's shoulders when he returned, and then becoming apparently his aid only, Avhile in reality she was the mainspring of the household. Quietly conscious of her power with others, she was, unfortunately for him, timid in maintaining any opinion in opposition to the bishop, and too ready to say, " Well, you know best." In fact, it was often she who knew best, and, had she asserted herself, she could have gained her point, for htr opinion had the gi'eatest weight with him, Slie had a clear business head, gi-eat executive ability, a remarkable power of finding out the resources of others, and the faculty of making them available. She was well read in the literature of the day, and always had some book on her work-table, which she picked up at spare moments. It was her custom to talk to her children of what she was reading, even when the book itself was beyond their comprehension; but she had the happy art of making portions of it so simple that they were interested in the nan-ative. " What is you reading, — ' Robinson Crusoe' ?" asked a little one of five years old one day, pulling out of her mother's hand a copy of Hugh Miller's '' Testimony of the Rocks." ''No, my pet; I am reading about rocks." " The rocks that broke his ship aU to pieces ?" " Yes; would you like to hear how they came there ?" Then followed, in language that the Uttle girl could understand, an account of the coral-reefs of the Pacific, all made by a tiny insect, of which rock formation the young lady, it is needless to say, had hitherto no knowledge beyond her necklace and the baby's coral and bells.

Between Bishop Polk and his wife, though unlike in many respects, there was that confidence and harmony which so often attain the highest perfection between persons of dissimilar character. Indeed, each was a loving law unto the other. Among JNIrs. Polk's characteristics the most prominent were her entire sincerity and ingenuousness; and the charm of life at Leighton was its simplicity and good-heart-edness. Her devotion to her husband, her children, her neighbors, the bond and the free, was a part of her char-

acter, — simple, natiu*al, and without display. A noble woman, fit helpmate for the niau who was her husband.

Mrs. Polk's prime minister in the government of the household was Mammy Betsey, who had been her maid before marriage, and had afterward become her housekeeper. Dear, good Mammy! We all loved her as though she were '' kin to us." Her one object in life was to please Master and '' Miss Fanny," as she always called her mistress, and to take care of their children. "• Faithful unto death " was she, and no memory of Leighton is complete that does not bring to mind her tall figure, dignified carriage, and untiring efforts to make all under its roof comfortable, not only for their own sakes, but for the "credit of the family." Often have 1 heard her impress on the younger servants the necessity of cultivating good manners, so that, when ladies and gentlemen came in master's and mistress's absence, they might be received with ** credit to the family." So trulj' and fully indeed did the spirit of hospitality pervade this household, that even the servants were imbued with it, and would have felt any deficiency in that respect as a reflection on themselves.

The servants had their own gatherings, at which master and mistress always appeared for a few moments. The " Rolling Ball," which was given every Avinter at the close of the cane-rolling season, was a scene of general jollity, when dance and music were carried far into the night. The supper for this ball was superintended by Mammy Betsey, and the viands served were as well cooked and as good of their kind as if prepared for the master's table. Punch, made of the half-boiled juice of the sugar-cane and green limes, was concocted by old Washington, who served it out to the guests until, as he used to say, " The fumes of it, marster, makes me quite stupid-like; but I ain't drunk, only just smelling of it." *'No, old fellow," the bishop would reply, "I look to you settled ones to set a good example for the yoiing folks, and I am sure you will do so." It was by taking it for granted that they would do what was right, and appealing to their self-respect, that he strove to govern his negroes. But woe to the

l(U MAMMY BETSEY. [l.S4(i

offender who persisted iu his offenses ; for, although his punishment was delayed, it was sure to come. I remember that a persistent chicken-thief was made to stand for several hours one Sunday with the stolen property tied round his neck, fluttering and clucking, to the great amusement of the other negroes. The plantation affairs were family affairs as well, and the negroes were punished for offenses in the same spirit as the children.

Taken all in all, I have never seen a more homelike home than that of Bishop Polk at Leighton. It was a fit shi-ine for

That tender heart that felt for eveiy woe, That dauntless soul that feared no human pride,

That friend of man, to vice alone the foe, Whose every failing leaned to virtue's side.

The Mammy Betsey referred to in these recollections of Leighton has passed from among us. She died in New Orleans, October 2, 1874. The name of this lifelong attendant of the Polk and Devereux famihes was Betsey McKethan. She was born on the plantation of John Devereux, of The Roanoke, North CaroHna, January 1, 1800; and, to paraphrase Heine, she was held in the estimation of all those of her household to be the "first woman of her century.'' On the maiTiage of jMiss Devereux to the Rev. Mr. Polk, Betsey followed the fortunes of her young mistress. She was a lifelong communicant of the Episcoj^al Chm-ch, and her life was an embodiment of its precepts. She did her duty in that state of life into which it pleased God to call her. She ^s^-is the trusted coanselor of the household to which she belongeu, Neither wars nor revolutions sufficed to shake her steadfast fidelity. She lived to see the children and grandchildren of the family reach the thu-d generation. Her hands, which tended so many of them in the cradle and presented them for the holy waters of baptism, had too often, alas! robed them for the tomb. In all the chances and changes of hfe she was to them not only the tender nurse of infancy and illness, but the common friend, the healer of differences, the sharer of their joys, the consoler of their gi'iefs.

Honored by all who knew her, the lofty as well as the lowly, especially did those of her own race find in her an adviser and friend. With just pride they may cite her gentle ministrations, her purity of life, her unostentatious piety, as a proof that Sisters of Charity are not all of one creed nor of one color. She brought up her own children in the fear of God. To her they owe the lessons which have made them upright, rendering to all their due, and entitled to the respect of the community. Her mistress was not able to join the band of heartfelt mourners which followed her to the gi-ave ; but she, who knew her best, wrote her truest eulogy in these few words: '^Her life was an example. God grant that death may find each of us as well prepared."

" At five P.M. on the day of her funeral in New Orleans," says an eyewitness, '* I picked my way through a crowd of respectable and j)olite negro men, who were standing on the banquette, to the house of mourning. I then entered a small room, hung with the usual adornments of grief, and occupied by the quiet and well-behaved assemblage of her friends. There lay the neat coffin, covered with flowers, the kind gift of ladies, and at its head stood the daughters of Mammy's former mistress. In a small adjoining room were several other ladies, awaiting the removal of the body to the little Prytania Street Chapel, where the services were to be held. On our arrival there stood the venerable, deeply loved pastor of Christ Church (Dr. Leacock), who was also the rector of the chapel, ready to perform the last rites over the inanimate body, Uttle heeding the color of the casket which had so lately contained that priceless soul. As those solemn words, 'I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord,' were spoken, there was a quiver in the voice of him who read them ; for he had known and esteemed and felt a strong affection for the departed."

Mammy's grandmother, so tradition goes, was an imported princess of some pretensions; and, if true royalty consists in gentleness, kindness, and an intuitive perception of right, then Mammy's life amply proved her claim to the possession of royal blood. Her stanch unchanging devo-

tion and active gratitude to her master's children stand not alone in the experience of many a Southern family, strange as it may seem to those who never knew plantation life.

Miss Beauehamp, an accomplislied lady who was for three years the resident g:overness of the family, wi-ites as follows:

My first introduction to Bishop Polk was through letters which I brought from my own diocesan, the Bisliop of Cork, and from the Chief Baron of the Exchequer in Dublin, addressed to the Bishop of Louisiana. I found a happy home in the charming family on Bayou La Fourche. The bishop's residence was a large plantation-house, sun'ounded by a flower-garden and handsome grounds. He had a good library of choice theological works, and INIrs. Polk's bookshelves were furnished with the best productions of modern literature.

I knew before I came to this country that slaveiy existed here, and I expected to see the black servants treated with much less consideration than the white domestics in my own coimtry; to my surprise, I found that quite the contrary was the case. There was a host of servants at Bishop Polk's; they were on more familiar terms with the family, were more kindly nursed in illness and more carefully watched over at all times, than I ever knew servants to be in the old country. the familiarity at first somewhat shocked my European notions. T did not, I confess, like all the shaking of black hands that I found was the fashion. The household, white and black, assembled every morning before breakfast in the parlor. The psalms for the day were read, a psalm or hymn was sung by all; the bishop read and expounded a chapter of the Bible, and then prayed. He was fond of the Proverbs. If there had been any dereliction of duty amongst children or servants, they were sure to hear of it at these morning readings, when the culprit perfectly well understood for whom the principal part of the lecture was intended, though probably no one else did.

I was one day lookiug from luy window up-slairs, and I saw the three youngest children at play in the front yard. One asked her brother to get her some roses that were hanging in rich clusters over a small side-gate. He said, " No; mother has forbidden us to climb on that gate." The little one was persistent, would have the flowers, and the boy, like i^oor Adam, and many a good man from that day to this, was about to yield to the blandishments of beauty and break the commandment, — not for an apple, but a rose. Just then the other little girl said, with an air of reproof, and exactly in her father's tone, " My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not." This brought both delinquents to a sense of their duty. I Avas exceedingly amused at such an appropriate application of the Proverb.

The bishop, who would at times be away for weeks on visitations through his diocese, always brought on his return joy and happiness to the entii-e household. He would amuse us for days with a recital of his adventures in the border region of Louisiana and with the people he would sometimes meet there. On one occasion, having been up the Red River, where an Episcopal clergyman was seldom seen, he was called on to baptize a sturdy flve-year-old youngster who defiantly resisted the sacrament unless his black Fidus Achates, Jim, should receive it at the same time. " Well," said the bishop, "bring in Jim, and I will make a Christian of him, too." Accordingly Jim, duly instructed by his mistress, was brought into the parlor; the pair went through the ceremony with perfect propriety, and were dismissed to their play. Meanwhile, the friends and neiglibors who had called to assist at the baptism and pay their respects to the bishop sat in solemn state awaiting the announcement of dinner. Small-pox had been lurking in the country. Every one was excited on the subject of vaccination, and discussions as to whether it had taken on this or that subject had been the order of the day for more than a week. Suddenly the circle was astounded by the reappearance of Jim, who exclaimed, almost breathless with excitement, "Mislis! Mistis! you must have Marse Tom

baptized over agin. It never tuck that ar time. He's out yonder cussin' the steei's worse than ever, and says he ain't gwine to stop for nobody!" The ice melted at once, and the stiffness of the circle vanished as the bishop tui-ned to the hostess and said, " A commentary on the doctrine of baptismal regeneration, ray dear madam."

Every Sunday afternoon all the negi'oes on the plantation came np to the house, and were taught by Mrs. Polk, her daughters, and myself in various classes. Singing entered largely into the exercises, many of the negroes having a taste for music, and some of them excellent voices. My class consisted of grown-up boys. I found it very difficult to keep them awake, no matter how edifying I fancied my instructions to be.

The ceremonies of marriage and baptism were always performed by the bishop himself, and the names chosen by the negroes were sometimes very amusing. Many of them could read, and they showed their appreciation of Greek mythology and Shakspere by the number of ]Minervas and Ophelias amongst them. One Sunday twenty-five little negro infants were taken into the bishop's arms and christened. Though the scene was a very impressive and interesting one, yet some of the names were so droll to my ears that I could scarcely preserve a becomiiig gravity. One was named " Crystal Palace," another " Vanity Fair," etc., but when a little creature, black as Erebus, and squalling, with its mouth extended to an enormous size, was taken into the bishop's arms to be named " Prince Albert," it was impossible for me to resist any longer, and a heavy fit of coughing, gotten up for the occasion, saved me from a reproving look from the good bishop.

An eminent clergyman of the diocese describes a visit he made to Loio-hton ;

In the early afternoon, in company with a brother clergyman, I drove up to the plantation of the bisliop to attend the exercises of what he called his colored Sunday-school. Approaching the mansion, we heard voices witliin singing the

church songs. lu the largest room of th(! house the servants were already assembled, to the number perhaps of sixty or eighty, in their Sunday garments, ranged in two lines facing each other, with a considerable space between, in which the chaplain of the plantation stood conducting their devotions. At one end of the room, near the head of the lines of servants, the bishop was seated with two or three invited guests. Among these we now took our place. The rehgious exercises being ended, the female servants were withdrawn to another apartment, the males remained to be examined by the chaplain. Questions on the elementary principles of the Christian religion were put and answered with readiness and accuracy. H^'mns were sung and anthems chanted, the whole service exhibiting the care with which they had been instructed and their interest in the exercises.

After this we were conducted by the bishop into another room. There we found the female servants, numbering twenty or more, seated on forms in front of a lady, the governess of the bishop's family, as we were then told, who was engaged in giving oral instruction to this portion of the household. Again questions were put and answered and hymns sung, as before.

Leaving this apartment, we passed into a third chamber, and were introduced into what the bishop caUed the " infant department" of his Sunday-school. Seated on two benches was a class composed of the smaller colored children of the place, attending the teaching of one of the young daughters of the bishop, who seemed not a little embarrassed by what was probably an unexpected intrusion upon her labors. The time had now arrived for the closing exercises of the day. The whole school re-assembled in the great hall, another hymn ; was sung, and prayers were offered by the chaplain, after which the bishop rose from his knees, and, with his hands extended over the company, in his usually impressive manner, pronounced the apostolic benediction, reahzing, so it seemed to me, as nearly as anything in those days could, the idea of the early patriarch, when he gathered his household together and gave them his blessing.

Taking the hand of the bishop at parting, T could not for-

boar expressing my impressions. It was then he told me the miiiil)er of communicants he had ainont^ his people — a large proportion J I do not recollect the number — whose Christian walk, he said, compared with that of any equal number of white persons, was as generally consistent; and he added that, in the cabins of many, prayers were said with as much regidarity as in his own family.

To this let me add another incident, which I heard from the lips of the bishop himself. An aged and sick servant — I believe a favorite with his master — having an impression that his end was near, sent to ask the bishop to come and see him. The cabin was already well filled with the fellow-servants of the dying man. The master approached the bedside, and, after some conversation, inquired if he would like to have prayers offered. Looking around the company, and recognizing one in whose personal piety he had the greatest confidence, the bishop requested him to lead in the devotion. The prayer offered on the occasion was so simple, earnest, reverential, and appropriate, and, though delivered in the rude terms of an uneducated servant, so expressive of the truth and power of Christian experience, that upon his Avay back to his ovra house, the passage of Scripture, " The first shall be last and the last first," was continually forcing itself upon the reflections of the master.

We cannot forbear adding to these sketches the following recollections by one of his daughters:

The greatest efforts were made by the bishop to preser\'e among his sei-vants the sanctity of family Ufe. Their weddings were always celebrated in h.is own home; the broad hall was decorated for the occasion with evergi'eens and flowers, and illuminated with many Ughts. The bride and groom (all decked in wedding garments presented by Mrs. Polk), with their attendants, were ushered quietly into their master's presence. The honor coveted by the bishop's children, and given as the reward of good behavior, was to hold aloft the silver candlesticks while their father read the marriage ser-

vice. A wedding-supper always followed (in a large room used on such occasions, where were spread every variety of meats, cakes, and sweets, provided by the master and mistress), after which all invited guests joined the bride and gi-oom in making merry, to the soimd of " fiddle, banjo, and bones," until the small hours of the night. If the couple had misbehaved, they were compelled to atone for it by marriage. In that case there was no display, but the guilty pair were summoned from the field, and in their working-clothes, in the study, without flowers or candles, were made husband and wife.

The children of the servants were well cared for. A day-nursery was estabhshed under the charge of good nurses. This department Mrs. Polk was particularly interested in. Every Monday morning the head nurse, with her assistants, was required to bring the children to be inspected by Mrs. Polk, who examined carefully into the condition of each child, and had a gift of the much-prized beaten biscuit and tea-cakes for them all.

AU departments that tended to the well-being of the servants were looked into. Those women who were unable to work in the field were assigned to duty as seamstresses. The work-room was in one end of a large building set apart as a hospital. Here the head nurse, who had been carefully instructed by her mistress in cutting and sewing, as well as in the care of the sick, superintended the making of clothing for the field-hands. Others again, too old to undertake sewing, did the knitting for the hands ; each had her cards and spinning-wheel, with which she soon changed the raw material into soft, smooth yarn. The hospital was a large, well-ventilated building, divided into male and female wards; here everything that contributed to the comfort of the sick was provided, and the wards when occupied were daily inspected by either the bishop or Mrs. Polk.

During aU the year, except in the sugar-making season of three months, the field-servants had each week a certain task allotted them ; as soon as that was completed their time was their own. Each family had its hen-house and garden, and

seed to plant for their own use ; the industrious always had good gardens, the products of which they could convert into money if they chose; frequently offerings of the first-fruits were brought to " IVIarster and IVIistiss," for which they were duly compensated. A large plantation-garden was cultivated by the older men, too old for field-hands, but who had to be employed. The vegetables, fresh from the garden, were taken each day to the plantation kitchen, where good cooks prepared the meals for the field-hands. These women were held responsible for the food being well cooked and in sufficient quantities to satisfy the best appetites.

But, as a close friend of Mrs. Polk has but too truly

written, —

Leighton proved an extensive and expensive estate. Sugar-planting is a costly process. Close management is necessary, and the master's watchful eye. A succession of bad seasons, with low prices, began the destruction of the fortune which they had brought into the State. Necessaiily the bishop was often absent from home, riding through the wilds of Arkansas or the swamps of Louisiana. If the two were incompatible, his private interests suffered, not his public duties. It was an easy device to borrow money on so ample a security. Newer machinery, better seasons, must bring gi-eat returns. He never exacted his salary. On the contrary, out of his owti resources he nourished the struggling churches over which he was God's overseer. Given to hospitality, his door was open to waj'farers of all degrees.

All that was possible of his bui-dens his wife assumed. She rose up early in the morning, gave meat to her household, and apportioned the tasks of her maidens. As to considering fields, selling, not bmdng them, would have proved the superior wisdom of tlds latter-day mother in Israel. She witnessed the gTadual wasting away of their property without the possibility of prevention.

Let us quote again from the faitliful "Mammy," who, like all her race, gloried in the past splendors of the house to

which she belonged. When their fortunes were fallen it soothed her pride to prove that it was by no fault of theirs, but by fatality. '' While old master was off on the Lord's Ijusiness, the plantatiou was run by young gentlemen. Experimenting and lavishing did it. My old mistress saw it, — of coui'se she did, — but she couldn't tui-n overseer. The little while the bishop could be at home she made it pleasant for him. Nobody ever heard her say a word. She did all her fretting inside. The most I ever saw was when business was being talked on the piazza. After she had listened she would come into her own room and sit placid, and then give a long sigh. We were both thinking how the children's chances were slipping away."

That this was a true interpretation of her mistress's thoughts is proven by this extract from a letter to one of her married daughters, written in those dark days following the war : " I have grown older within these few months since I left you than for years before. Sometimes I think it is because I realize more fully than ever that if I had done my duty you would all have been better off in a pecuniary point of \\evf. I am therefore responsible for all the evil consequences resulting from the poverty of my children, for I have not the consolation of thinking that I acted for the best. I felt that I was doing wrong at the time, and I have never felt otherwise.

" I must not dwell mournfully upon the past, or recall too often poor John Randolph and the card on which he had written 'Remorse!' (unavailiug regret)."

Like all powerful men, the bishop was full of hopefulness He had never known any circumstances with which he was imable to cope. If matters went Avrong, as soon as he turned his attention to them he would right them. Born to fortune, strong and self-reliant, he was naturally proof against the fears and augm-ies which oppressed his wife. No doubt, too, his optimism influenced her, and thus action was deferred until too late.

The same close observer already cited bears witness to the " slow courage " with which her mistress acted her part.

" Nothing: living was neglected. She had to be satisfied about everybody and everji;hing down to the very dogs about the place." The life of the mistress in those patriarchal days was not one of ease. As soon as the brealvfast was over and the day's supplies distributed, the many guests of the house were left for a while to their own devices while she made the rounds of the quarters, — that is, the village containing the cabins of the field negroes. The sick were visited, and the proper food and medicine for them were set apart. Then the nurse-house, where the little children were cared for by the elder women, was inspected. Daily those wlio could walk were brought out for exercise as far as the back door of the " big house," as they termed the master's residence, and there the mistress gave each a biscuit, and sometimes with it a word of kindly admonition. Then she bestowed a general superintendence upon the room where the regular seamstresses and the delicate women cut out and made the clothing which was always prepared in advance for plantation use. Later in the morning Mrs. Polk went into the school-room, where her children were at woi'k under their governess. With swift fingers she plied her knitting-needles while she sat listening to the insti'uction given them. Often a quick, pungent remark from her added something never to be forgotten to the day's quota of knowledge. She kept up a voluminous coitc-spondenee, which would have overtaxed a less systematic woman. She had no patience with those who find in their pleasant engagements a pretext for neglecting the small, sweet courtesies of life. The young people about her who were inclined to defer paying visits and replying to letters knew they would hear her rebuke, " What! you have not leisure or wisdom to make and to keep friends ?" Her afternoons were given up to receiving and making visits, always a heavy demand upon one's time in a country neighborhood. Brought up in the good old idea that no moment must be unoccupied, Mrs. Polk became very skillful in aU arts of the needle, at least those which could be carried on mechanically, with little demand upon the eyesight. The last note from her to a kind neighbor, written when she was ''such an one as

Paul the aged," was valued enough to be presei-ved, and it marks the only lunit to her industry :

" Mlf clear Mrs. S : I regret that I could not return the

httle squares at an earlier day, and I hope that it will occasion Mrs. C no inconvenience. Nothing would have given

me greater pleasure in former days than to copy them, but, alas! ' those that look out of the windows are darkened,' and such employments are forbidden. With regards to the ladies, behave me, yom-s truly, F. A. Polk."

She was an insatiable reader, and required of herself and of all around her that they should keep well up with the literature of the day. An open book lay ever on her work-table, and if conversation degenerated into gossip, a swift reminder would come that it was there ready for use. Friend after friend, child after child would take it up and read aloud to her. Racy commentaries repaid them richly. She was a woman who thought, and, having the courage of her convictions when she reached them, she enunciated them in pithy phrases, not molded on the common plan, nor easily forgotten. But the responsibilities and anxieties, more than the labors of such days, gradually told upon her health and spirits. She grew thinner and paler. The expression of her face was one of subdued sadness. In another of her letters to a married daughter she admits: " Your father used sometimes to get out of patience with me for my fondness for Bums's ' Man was made to mourn,' and 'I weary am I know, and the weary long for rest'; but one does get so weary when not strong."

The beginning of sorrows came in 1849, when cholera swept over the plantatioD, causing the death of over one hundred of the negroes. Of this visitation the bishop wrote to Mrs. Ra^^lor briefly as follows, characteristically forgetting to mention that he himself had had a dangerous attack of the disease :

You have lieard, I presume, througli your sister's letters, of our late trouble and sickness. Durinf;- the presence of the disease we were absolutely so occujiied as hartUy to have a moment for anything but attention to the sick and dying, so could do nothing in the way of advising our friends of our condition. Such a visitation must be seen in order to be realized. Of all the population on ray place, white and black, amounting to over four hundred souls, I suppose there were not more than, say, fifty who did not have the disease. We lost one hundred and six, among them some of our best people. You will regret to hear that our old friend, Jeff, was of the number. He died as a Christian would desire to die, at his post. He was of gi'eat service as a nurse, and was most faithful.

In her notes Mrs. Polk writes somewhat more fully of the cholera and its consequences, but omits mention of her own part in the ordeal; but fortunately we.know that during this terrible scourge she devoted every moment during the day, unless needed absolutely by her own sick children, to their wants. For five long weeks she took her place at the hospital every morning directly after breakfast, noi* did she leave until late in the evening, sj^ending her time in going from bedside to bedside trying to soothe and comfort the sick and dying: whilst the bishop went from house to house, encouraging and brightening by his presence; always near the dying, praying fervently for the departing spirit; neither master nor mistress ever taking but a few short hours' rest at a time during those fearful weeks of suffering and death. Mrs. Polk in her notes says:

The cholera appeared in our neighborhood in the winter of 1848-49. Great pains were taken by my husband to preserve the health of the negroes by clothing them in flannel and liaving their quarters imder extraordinaiy police and sanitary regulations. He made a vijsitation on the Mississippi River

below New Orleans, and returned to the city for the pui-pose of holding the spring confirmation services in the churches there, and to preside over the annual diocesan convention. One evening he called upon Mr. James Robb, who sent for his trunk and insisted that the bishop slioiild remain with him during his visit to the city. It was fortunate that he consented to do so, as he was taken ill with the cholera dm-ing the night, and probably owed his life to the devotion of Mr. James Robb, who watched over him with unwearied attention, seemed forewarned of everj^ want, and enforced in person the order of the physician for complete quiet to the patient, by waiting in an anteroom to receive all visitors. Before the bishop recovered from this attack, the cholera appeared in our place. The first cases were on the 11th day of May, 1849. In a few hours five deaths occurred. The best medical skill was obtained; but medicine and attention seemed powerless. In five weeks seventy-six souls were hm-ried into eternity; thirty other persons were so enfeebled and prostrated that they all died within three weeks. Some of the bishop's family were also ill of the disease, and barely escaped with their lives. At one period of the epidemic, of the three hundred and ninety-six negroes on the place, there were not enough well to take care of the sick.

As soon as the bishop was able, — indeed, at a risk of a relapse, — he was at the bedside of the sick and dying, to nurse, to comfort, and to cheer. The last case of the cholera occurred on the 7th of June, when a very fine servant named Wright, by trade a blacksmith, was attacked. His master had been reading and praying with him. Wright raised his head, and said, '' Master, lift me up." '' I am afraid to, Wright," the 1)ishop replied; *' the doctors say it may be fatal." " I am dying now, master; lift me up." The bishop raised him. when Wright suddenly threw his arms around his master's neck, and exclaimed, " Now, master, I can die in peace. I do love you so I have often wanted to hug you, and now let me die Avith my head on your breast and you praying for me.'' His wish was complied with, and soon he was at rest.

The crop was, of course, not worked, as there were no hands

able for weeks to be in the field. Instecad of the usual com crop being made, com had to be bought fi'om the first of August, and the cane was greatly injured for want of work. The crop did not pay the expenses, which this year exceeded $50,000. The debt was not, of course, reduced. It had been our hope that the crop would have paid it entirely, or at least reduced it to within a few thousand dollars. But it was God's doing. The bishop's health was so broken that he went North with our son, and was absent some two mouths, the rest of our family remaining on the Bayou.

The aflQiction of 1849 was followed by another heavy loss in 1850, of which Mrs. Polk has given the following account:

In May of this year (1850) the Diocesan Convention met at Thibodeaux. The business over, the bishop invited the members to dine at his house. While at dinner, one of those dreadful tornadoes, so common in the South and West at this season, took place. The glass in the windows, even the dishes on the table, were broken by enormous hailstones; the floor was covered with them. The sugar-house, valued at $75,000, was destroyed. The stables of the plantation and several negro-cabins shared a like fate. In a moment the labor of years was destroyed, the crops ruined, and injuries to the amount of $100,000 inflicted upon us. This was God's work. The bishop bore it with his usual cheerful submission. He regi-etted, in view of his losses by the cholera of the year before, and of the present calamity, of which the body of the convention were eyewitnesses, that no provision had been made by the diocese for his support j but he said nothing to any member on the subject.

A gentleman Avho at that time lived on an adjoining plantation, and who had been invited, with his wife, to meet the members of the Diocesan Convention at the dinner to whieh Mrs. Polk refers, thns describes the storm which wroiiirht such havoc:

picture1

j:ingroei/ea, oy nmnjarioin,.

picture2

MISSIONARY BISHOP OF THE SOUTHWER:

The clouds were so threatening we did not venture out; the vehicle and horses were taken back to shelter. It was well we remained. Soon we heard the sound of an approaching storm, which struck us with consternation. It was upon us in a moment. It seemed as if the house — a very strong one, built flat as if for such an encounter — would be leveled to the ground. Then came the hail, a frightful shower of it, a tempest of huge missiles that lasted perhaps fifteen minutes, although it seemed an age. The outer shutters were thrown open by its violence, every exposed pane of glass in the windows was broken, the floors were covered with hail, and we were compelled, for very fear of life, to keep out of the way of the shower of stones which went through and through the house. It was a scene of terror not to be shaken off the memory in a lifetime. It should be mentioned, as characteristic of the thoughtfulness of the family at Leighton, that despite the dismay, the destruction, the attention due numerous guests, and the general confusion of the moment, — within twenty minutes after the storm .had spent its wrath upon its, a messenger rode to oui* door from that plantation to inquire how we had fared in the perils through which we had just passed.

The effect of the storm on the bishop's fortunes, and the complete disaster which ensued, are thus described by Mrs. Polk:

The bishop went this fall (1850) to the General Convention, which met at Cincinnati. The winter was passed, as usual, in visiting portions of the diocese. Owing to the lateness of the season, when the work of rebuilding began, the sugar-house was not completed in time. Meanwhile the frost, which was unusually early, had seriously injured the cane, so that not over a third of an average crop was made. To all this the bishop only said: "I have done all I could. I must leave the future in God's hands. If he sends this trouble, it is his wiU. ' Let him do what seemetli to him good.' ' Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.'"

In tlio spriu<? of 1851, tlu l)isli<)p, \\m\vv tlic advice of a frifiul, (leterniined to discilargv his iiidebteduoss in Tennessee by raising money on his property, and placed the funds in the hands of a broker to satisfy an obligation held by the Bank of Tennessee. A few days after, the broker stopped pajonent, having, in the inter\-al, appropriated this trust money to his own use. Under a statute of Louisiana this was a grave penal offense, and the offender was sul)ject to be imprisoned in the penitentiary. The l)ishop would not prosecute him, as he considered there was no intention to defraud. This was the finishing stroke to our fortune.

AVliile the bishop's private fortunes were falling into decay, his episcopal woi-k was prospering. • In 1842 he had found but two church buildings and five clergymen in the diocese of Loiiisiana; at the Diocesan Convention of 1853 twenty-one parishes were represented, and twenty-five clergymen took i)art in the proceedings. In the autumn of that year a third misfortune befell him. The yellow fever, Avliich had become epidemic in New Orleans, extended its ravages to the iuterior and along the banks of Bayou La Fourclie. The mortality was very great. The bishop liiuisclf was absent in attendance at the General Convention when he received information that two of his children and several of his negroes had been attacked, and. obtaining leave of alisence from the House of Bislio])s. he instantly rctunuMl home. Hap-l)ily an early frost occurrc(l. tlic disease abated, and he passed the winter in his usual xisitatious. In the s))i"iug of 18.")4 lu' had fully satisfied himself that the revenues of his plantation would be insufficient to discharge the heavy debts wliieh bad aeciniiulated agahist him. Accordingly he considered it his duty to tender the property to his creditors, and, after a series of negotiations, Leighton passed fi-om his possession. Oidy a fraction

of Mrs. Polk's property remained. Cotton lands were purchased in Bolivar County, Mississippi, and the comparatively few servants were transferred to that place. In the autumn of 1854 yellow fever again appeared on Bayou La Fourche, and many neighbors of the bishop were among its victims. He was unremitting in his devotion to the sick and dying, and was himself taken with the fever. Upon his recovery he prepared to leave Leighton for New Orleans, where he had resolved to make his future home.

The diocese was not wholly unmindful of its obligations to its chief pastor. For tliu'teen years he had served it virtually without compensation, but in 1853 an effort was made to raise an endowment of $50,000 for his support, and his salary as bishop was settled at $4000 per annum. On his removal to New Orleans he accepted the rectorship of Trinity Church, with the understanding that the work of the parish, during his necessary absences on ejjiscopal visitations, should be carried on by a competent assistant. Thus, for the first time in his life. Bishop Polk was permanently settled in a great city, and from subsequent experience it might safely be concluded that he ought always to have lived there. From the moment of his settlement in New Orleans his influence was universally recognized. The position of the Church was strengthened. Its missionary energies were multiplied. Nothing but time seemed to be wanting for an almost unprecedented growth of the work under his charge.

Through all his losses — and all the more perhaps because he saw his private fortune vanishing away — his thoughts and cares had gone out to the great work for the Church and world which the very loss of his fortune made him free to undei-take. It was durinu' those dis-

astrous years that he began to entertain the project of establishing a great university in the southern States. How this idea grew in him until it reached the ultimate form Avith which his name will always be connected, has been thus.described by Mrs. Polk:

I remember few incidents of the winter of 1849-50 except that I now, for the first time, heard my husband speak of his wish to estabUsh a university which should enlist the sympathy of all the States. Some time before he went to Louisiana, that State had appropriated $1,500,000 for the es-.tablishment of tlu-ee colleges, — one at Jackson, one at Opelou-sas, and one in the parish of St. James. This sum had been spent mainly in the buildings. The schools, after a brief struggle, had ceased to exist, and the school buildings had been disposed of, — the Jackson institution to the Methodists, the Opelousas to the Romanists; that in St. James was offered to my husband for $50,000. At one time he thought of purchasing it for the diocese, but, on making himself more familiar with the wishes of the people, he ascertained that there was a general desire to have the children spend the j-ears of their college life in a colder climate. He then thought of purchasing the coUege building and groimds in St. James out of his private means, and removing there; but the heavy losses entaUed by the cholera A-isitation prevented more than the thought. Soon afterward these college buildings were burned. But the plan of a gi-eat imiversity was constantly in his thoughts ; he frequently spoke of it to me, and began to collect materials to enable him to brmg the project before the public.

In the spring of 1852 he began to collect information relative to the educational system of England, France, and Prussia, and to consult mth some of his friends on the feasi-bdity of founding a University of the South. Two months were spent wdth me at the North, my health having become very bad. We returned in the fall. The winter was passed as usual, the bisho]) visiting various parts of the diocese, and the family and myself remaining on the plantation.

Of Bishop Polk's pastoral and episcopal character, the following account has been furnished, at the request of the writer, in a letter from the Rev. Dr. Fulton. Speaking of his first meeting with Bishop Polk, he says :

On the 22d day of May, 1857,1 an-ived in New Orleans f or examination for orders, and was taken to the bishop's house by the Eev. Dr. Charles Goodrich, president of the Standing Committee. Presently we heard a quick, firm step in the hall, and the bishop entered. One glance revealed the man; his first address, the gentleman; his penetrating, sympathetic look, the friend and father. He was then over fifty years of age, but his clear complexion, his keen, bright eye, and his elastic step made him appear not more than forty-six or forty-eight. Standing over six feet in height, his form was cast in the ideal mold of a soldier. His broad shoulders, his lean flank, his erect carriage, and his decidedly military bearing prepared one for the clear, distinct voice, which never struck one as imperious, but had always a certain tone of command. It was a voice to make itself heard amid the din of battle, and yet by the bedside of the sick and dying it was gentle as a woman's. As he had a pressing engagement, our first interview was brief; but in those few minutes he contrived, without any appearance of haste, to ask every question and pay every attention that kindness or coixrtesy could suggest, and also to make the necessary arrangements for my examination and ordination. At the same time I was in some way conscious that an eye accustomed to observe, and gifted with the insight of sympathy, had tnken a quick and comprehensive observation of me. I did not at all feel that I had been scrutinized; I did feel that I was understood.

In two days I was ordained deacon in Trinity Church, of which the bishop was at that time rector. In his robes ho appeared the ideal of a bishop; he was still the soldier, but the calm, strong soldier of Christ. His air of command never left him, but it was the command of one who felt that he himself was " under authority," and in a Father's house. Through all his dignity, the people who looked upon him saw

that he was one ol' them and one witli tbeni; and this impression was aided, perhaps, bj' two slig-ht inaccuracies of pronunciation, — "toh" he said for to, and "goodniss" for fjoodncs^. With these excepti(ms his j)n)nuneiatioTi was perfect and his enunciation remarkably distinct. His rendering of the service was exceedingly impressive, and, though wholly unstudied, it was intelligent, reverent, and simple. One did not think of the reader, but of the lesson read. He was not an adept in matters of ritual, and sometimes confused the rubrics, not from carelessness or contempt, but rather from preoccupation with weightier matters.

The bishop considered that true pastoral influence depended mainly on personal character and on the power of personal sympathy. He was accustomed to dwell on these as incomparably more necessary than eloquence in the i)ulpit or any particular views in theology. "Above all things," he would say, *' gain your people's confidence, and see that you deserve it. Live the gospel, and you will preach the gospel."

He greatly disliked puritanical professions of religion, and insisted upon conduct as the criterion of piety in a way that \vt)uld have satisfied Thomas Ai'nold. Once, when speaking on this subject, I ventured to suggest that a little more of that doctrine would make certain evangelical theories a good deal less objectionable. " The one follows the other," he re-jjlied. " Faith is a charger that carries a man into battle, but lie must fight when he gets there, and then Faith will bear him tlirough the fight."

He laid the greatest possible stress on the necessity of preserving and developing one's own individual character, instead of striving to conform to some other type which one may chance to admire. '' Thei-e is no pattern of human life worth following." lie said, " but that of Christ himself. Take no other for your model. If you do, you may rather acquire its defects than its excellences. Only in him will you find nothing to avoid ; only in him will you find all that is needed to coiTect and complete your own life."

Once, when he had been reproving me for something or other, I well remember the half-playful way in which he

.^]t. 4S] I'ASTOJLIL INFLUENCE. .185

closed the conversation. " I would not li;ivo you," he said, "be anybody but yourself." If the good Lord had not some use for you in the world, you would not be here; and if he had wanted you to be any other sort of man, you would have been a man of that sort, and not the man you are. Your part is to consider how the Lord Jesus Christ would wish a character like yours to be developed and restrained. He would not wish you to be less earnest or less enthusiastic, for earnest enthusiasm is a great power; but he might tell you that it needs to be directed with prudence and gravity. He would not wish you to be less joyous, but he would surely bid you guard against levity. In short, my young friend, it is good for a man to know what he can't be. You can't — and if you could, you ought not to — be anybody but yourself. Only try to be your best self, your ideal self. Keep yourself well in hand. When a man gives the rein to his own peculiarities of character, he is sure to miss the purpose of his life, and to become a caricature of the man God meant him to be."

In his pastoral visiting the bishop was exceedingly systematic. When beginning a round of visits he would make a list of all the families in a particidar district, arrange them in a certain order, and go through the list. Next day he would take an adjacent district, go through that, and so on until he had seen every family in the parish. His method in visiting was perfect. It was astonishing to see how quickly he got through; and yet, brief as his visits were, they were most effective. Before he entered a house, he had always thought of every person connected with the family; and then, without any forced turn of the conversation, he woiild make it known that he had thought of all. '' Make it a habit," he said to m?, *'to think of your people. Hear them on your heart, and let them know that you do so. Be sincerely interested in all that concerns them, and let them feel that you are interested. That is the secret of pastoral influence." In dealing with individuals he insisted on the gi-eatest prudence. "There is notliing so good." he said, "as a word in season; but there are few thhigs iiiove likelv to do harm than good

words out of season. Learn to wait for your cliance. The man wlio seems callous to-day may be sensitive to your lightest touch to-morrow, unless in the meanwhile you have lepelled him. J\Iake it a point to leave no man further off from spiritual things than he was when you met him; and when men are moved, be content to carry them as far as they will go freely. One step leads to another, unless you fail to use your opportunity."

In parochial administration his method was summed up in a few maxims such as these: "There is a great deal of fine art in letting people alone." "It may cost you more labor to get your people to do a thing than to do it yourself, but it will be worth more when it is done." " Let your working-people work in their own way. Don't be a martinet. People who work have a right to choose their own way of working, and the way they like will be the easiest for them." "Make yourself felt rather than seen in your people's work. Always give them the credit for what is done; never take it to yourself."

There was nothing in which the bishop excelled more, as a pastor and as a bishop, than in the power of rebuke. "Take care," said a clergj'man to me shortly after I went to New Orleans, "that the bishop does not have to take you in hand. If he does, he will make you ache in every bone of your spiritual liody. EjL-perto erede. But when yoii feel sorest, you will b(; almost angry that you cannot be angi'v at what he has said to you." I had more than once sufficient opportunity to verify that saying. More than once the bishop did "take me in hand," and sore enough he made me feel; but he never made me angry nor failed to send me away with a deeper reverence for himself and with a deeper longing for his ajiprobation. Even now, after so many years, I cannot recall tliose interviews without a vivid recollection of my utter helplessness in the bishop's hands. Later on I learned that others had had the same experience; but the bishop seemed always to have something particularly commendatory to say of every person whom he had had occasion to fault, and it was only through the person himself that one could learn anything about it.

Occasionally, however, the story would get out in some amusing way. In the diocese there was a very excellent and laborious clergyman, really a fine fellow, but of a high-strung, nervous temperament, aud a desperate stickler for rubrical observances and ritual jDropriety. I have said that in these things the bishop sometimes made mistakes; and at one of our conventions I must confess that the opening services were anything rather than in conformity with the order of the " Directorium Anglicanum." Some weeks afterward there appeared in the columns of a church newspaper a communication signed '*X," giving an indignant and not very complimentary account of the rubrical and ritual irregularities of the service. The bishop was sorely displeased, and spoke to me about it. " Surely," I said, " you do not suspect me of writing the letter ?" "No, sir," he rephed; "you are not the sort of bird that fouls its own nest; but I thought you might know the author of it." '' And if I did, bishop ?" "If you did, sir," he rejoined, "I do not love talebearers; but I shall find him out, sir; I shall find him out." "Well, bishop, I have no more idea than you have of the author of that communication; but I should like to know how you expect to find him out." " From himself, sir, of course; and very soon, depend upon it." Very soon he did find out. The writer, shortly afterward, was in the bishop's study, and the bishop opened the subject by observing that considerable interest had been taken in the question of the authorship of the letter. The visitor felt that the question was addressed to himself, and naively betrayed himself by saying that he supposed that the pseudonym was an indicati(m that the writer did not wish to be known. " I should think so," said the bishop; "and therefore I infer that

the author is not known to you, Mr. V This was a home

thrust, and the poor fellow stammered out that he certainly did know the author, but that he was not prepared to give any further information on the subject at that time. "And I have asked none," said the bishop. Thereupon the unfortunate man was thoroughly "taken in hand." The meanness and cowardice of an anonymous attack was commented upon in the blandest way; the additional wrong of an assault upon a

bishop, whose office forbade a reply, was duly observed; and the impropriety of a clergyman, who by virtue of his office is an advisor of his Ijishop, wnsliing diocesan dirty linen abroad in the face of the world, was severely rebuked. The poor fellow was spiritually broken on the wheel for a long half-liour. He had not intended to do any of those dreadful things, and yet, as the bishop went on, he seemed to have been guilty of all of them. He left the house in a wretched condition. Befor-e he had gone far he was taken with a nervous chill, and reached the house where he was staying Avith a fever on him. A few hours later his host went to his room, but paused on the tlu-eshold, hearing him, as he sup-X)osed, engaged in prayer. It was not prayer, however, as he soon found, but the groaning utterances of mental disti'ess. " Oh, that communication signed X! " he moaned. " This is certainly a judgment upon me for writing that comnumication. If the good Lord will only forgive me for writing it, I'll never be X anymore!" And he never was. He was a true Christian gentleman, and loved his bishop well, though he did abhor and resent a Aiolation of the rubrics.

A case of fever, even such as this, recalls tlic frightful scourge of yellow fever under which man\- southern cities and towns are suffering while I write these lines. I was never with the bishop in an epidemic, but I have often heard him speak of his experiences. After he had made his residence in New Orleans, it was a matter of course that he should stand by his people in the hour of danger and distress, without regard to his own safety. During an epidemic he might have gone on A-isitations elsewhere; but if he had done so, he would not have been Leonidas Polk. So he remained steadily at his post of duty, as brave men of every Christian name liave always done, until he was relieved from work l>y an attack of the disease.

The marvelous power of lo\nng rebuke of wliieh Dr. Fulton speaks in the foregoing letter is still further illustrated by an anecdote which is furnished by another clergyman:

Bishop Polk was a man of very decided opinions, and, though cautious perhaps in forming them, never hesitated, wlien there was occasion, to give them expression. I have always regarded him as a conservative churchman. He entertained high ideas of church authority. I think, too, he was very tenacious of episcopal prerogative, and would never allow the slightest infringement upon what he deemed its proper claims. I have known him in council interrupt debate, when he thought the sentiments of the speaker trenched upon the episcopal offlce. His rights Avcre asserted with firmness, but with moderation, nor was he ever disposed to interfere Avitli the just liberties of his clergy. He sympathized in their struggles, listened with interest to the story of their trials, aud gave them counsel as a brother ; nor was there any duty to which he seemed to turn with greater reluctance than that of administering the discipline of the church. He was slow to credit rumors to the prejudice of his brethren, and, even when offenses could not be denied, he seemed to go in search of extenuating circumstances, as one trying to find something to justify forbearance or moderation in discipline.

On one occasion very serious offenses were charged against a certain presbyter of the diocese. The committee appointed under the canon to investigate the rumors reported their opinion that sufficient ground existed to warrant presentment for trial before an ecclesiastical court. In order, however, to avoid the scandal of such a proceeding, the offender was willing to submit himself without reserve to the discipline of the bishop. I can never forget the solemnity with which the judgment was pronounced. The presbyter was summoned to appear before the bishop in one of the churches in New Orleans. Some eight or ten of the clergy were present in the chancel. The bishop was seated in his chair, clothed with his robes of office, the other clergy with theirs. Outside the chancel rail, before the altar, stood the penitent offender. None others were permitted within the church. The stillness of the room seemed to add impres-siveness to the scene. A few collects were offered, after

lUO SYMPAlllY FOR I HE Eliltl^G. [1854

wliicli the bishop from his place addressed the guilty presbyter, briefly recapitulating his offenses and expressing; their culpability. He read the judgment from a manuscript which was spread before him. His manner was very grave, his voice low, sometimes wavering with emotion, yet perfectly distinct. It was evident that he was much moved. Every clergyman present felt the unusual solemnity of the occasion. The offending presbyter covered his face, and could not conceal his anguish. The judgment ha\ing been pronounced, we all knelt once more in prayer, after which the bishop rose, and extended his hand to the man whom he had just suspended from ecclesiastical office, who grasped it with tears in his eyes; the clergA^ followed the example of their bishop, and the offender was made to feel that among his peers, and in the heart of his ecclesiastical superior, there was no lack of sympathy for the infirmities of an en-ing brother.

But we must leave these personal reminiscences. While caring for his parish, which was one of the largest in the diocese, and administering the affairs of a rapidly growing diocese, Bishop Polk believed that the time had come for him to undertake the work of founding a great university for the southern States, and, frcmi the commanding position which he now lield in New Orleans, he set about that work with eliaracteristic energy. ^

1 At the burning of Bishop Polk's house in 18C1 all the letters which he had -written Jlrs. Polk since their marriage were destroyed. The loss has been greatly felt in the preparation of this and the preceding chapter as the letters contained many allusions to persons and incidents connected with Bishop Polk's life in the Southwest, particularly in the Republic of Texas. The official record of his life during this period appears in the files of the '• Spirit of Missions," in the proceedings of the conventions of the dioceses of Louisiana, and in the " History of the Dioceses of Louisiana," by the Rev. Herman E. Duncan.

CHAPTER VI.

UNIVERSITY OF THE SOUTH. 1854 TO 1861.

Inception of the idea. — Nobility of the vmiversity system. — Early American literature. — Southern educational deficiencies.-Thoroughness of Bishop Polk's plans. — Dangers of unrestricted imniigi'ation. — Views on extension of slavery. — The Kansas question. — The Church in the South. — Expected benefits to the negro race. — Other southern universities. — Magnificence of the scheme. — Family influences for the students. — Climatic advantages. — Endowment. — Letter to the southern bishops. — Bishop Elliott's cooperation. — The southern Church enlisted in the cause. — First meeting of the trustees. — To cement a national feeling through the Church. — Location of the University. — Munificent gifts. — Charter of the institution. — Bishop Hopkins's estimate. — Active work. — Public spu-it and liberality. — The corner-stone laid. — Advance in American education. — Present status. — Appendix: Constitution of the University; Statutes.

It has been erroneously supposed that Bishop Polk's project of establishing: a great univer.sity for the southern States was formed but a short time before he proposed it to the Church and the world. He himself said tlicit the first distinct idea of it came to him when he was abroad in 1831; but it is probable that its elements had been previously gathering- in his mind. Even before he began to study for holy orders he had felt the disadvantage of the exclusively scientific education ho had received at West Point. He did not undervalue the technical instructions of the Military Academy. Indeed, if he had been obliged to choose between the curriculum of the Academy and the u.-;ual course of American col-

leges as it was forty or even fifty years ago, lie Avould, witliout liesitation, liave chosen the former; for in most colleges of that time literary studies were pursued to the neglect, and almost to the exclusion, of the sciences. Nevertheless he felt that the course of the Military Academy would be improved, and that its scientific purpose would not he marred, if the cadets had more of the classical and literary instruction which is a part of the usual i)reparation for other professions. He fully recognized the necessity of giving a special direction to the course of study to be pursued by men intended for a ])articular 2)rofession; but lie was firm in the conviction that the professional man ought always to have a liberal education,^ and he thought that every gentleman ought to have at least so much acquaintance with every branch of human knowledge as to be capable of intelligent sympathy with the pursuits and thoughts of other educated men of any profession. He observed, too, that the isolation of technical schools, whether military, medical, legal, or theological, each by itself, tends to foster a narrow sj^irit of professional conceit ^vhich would be less likely to exist if the professors and stiulents of the different faculties were in daily contact with each other. When he went abroad, he saw in the gi'cat English and Continental universities a fairly adequate appi-oximation to the vague ideal he had already conceived. But he saw more than that; for he saw that great universities educate not merely individual men, but nations; and that they inspire the noblest impulses of national acti\aty. ti'easuring the riches of the past, stimulating and informing the energies of the present, and in the best sense laying the foundations of the future. As an American

1 The reasons be gave his father for lii.s wish to accept the professorship at Amherst College emphasize this idea strongly.

he was mortified — perhaps alarmed — to think that in the whole of the United States there was not (in 1831) one single university worthy of the name. With a few exceptions, American literature was still barren, or at least feeble and imitative, without force and without originality. Those were days in the world when was scornfully asked, " Who reads American l)ooks ?" Americans themselves read few American books, for there were few American books to read. American publications for the most part were pirated reprints of foreign works; and American periodical literature, for more than a quarter of a century afterward, consisted largely of the same sort of material. Comparing one jiart of his country with another, he saw that, poor as the North was in literature and institutions of learning, the South was poorer still. Most of the sons of men of means were sent to northern colleges to be educated; and, with the exception of fugitive productions in the newspapers, there were no indications of the appearance of a southern literature. As the son of a soldier of the Revolution, it was a pride to him to think of the preponderating influence which had been exercised by southern men in field and coTincil throughout the Revolutionary War and for half a century afterward; l)ut as the years rolled on and the old generation passed away, the men of the second generation did not seem to him to be the equals of their predecessors. These considerations, not' long after his return from Europe, began to inspire him with a passionate desire to devote his energies to tiie founding ot a great American university somewhere in the southern States. Foi- mnuy years the state of his h(\ilth aud the pressure of his private and official duties kept him from it. While lie was wandering through his enormous missionary jurisdiction of the " Southwest,"

out of which six dioceses and two missionary jurisdictions have since been created, and afterward, when his own affairs were cruelly embarrassed, he had small chance of founding universities; but as soon as he was relieved of these burdens and had made his home in a great city, he began to agitate the sul>ject of the university. He did it then because he thought the time had come, and not because he was suddenly attracted by the fascination of a grand and novel enterprise. When he laid his plans before such men as Bishops Elliott and Otey, than whom none worthier or wiser have adorned the American Episcopate, they were impressed, not so much by the grandeur of his project as l^y his statesman-like gi'asp of the whole subject, and the mature consideration which he had given to its most subordinate details. When the movement had been fairly inaugurated, and the board of tiaistees met to frame a code of "statutes" for the university, those who were present observed the masterly way in Avlnch he answered all questions and met all objections, until the discussions seemed to take the form of n simple conversation in whit'h the other members of the l)oard were assisting Polk and Elliott to reconsider and revise the phraseology of their project. To those who liiow the facts, the notion that the magnificent sch(iine of the Uiiiversity of the South was hastily planned is merely preposterous.

The notion that it was sectional, or in any way unworthy of a sincere lover of his country, is equally untnie. In the work which he proposed he thought he saw a benefit to the whole country. Though he had not a particle of sympathy with llic proscriptive party of the "Know-nothings," he regarded the rapid increase of our population through the innnigration of foreigners as in-volvinsr serious dangers, which, to l)e averted, must be

foreseen and wisely provided against. The growth of dense populations in niannfactimng towns he also regarded with apprehensions which would certainly not have been lessened had he lived till now. In tunes of prosperity he thought that all would be well; but he apprehended that distress in commerce and manufactures would give rise to revolutionary disorders in a country where universal suffrage might put society at the mercy of demagogues. The danger, he thought, would first be felt at the East; the West, being an agricultural region like the South, would for many years be more conservative ; and the unity of the Mississippi Valley would be likely for all time to operate as a bond between the people of the Northwest and the people of the southern States. But it was to the South that he looked for the maintenance of a true conservatism, not only within its own borders, but throughout the country. He despised, heartily enough, a mere aristocracy of wealth, which might be almost as injurious to the true interests of the commonwealth as mob-law established under the name of universal suffrage; but he held that an aristocratic element of some sort is necessary to the stability of society; and in the institutions of the South he believed that such an element had been providentially furnished. It was necessary, however, that the ruling classes of the South should be worthy of the place in the destinies of their country to which he believed that Providence had called them.

In looking to the future he was misled neither by the facts nor by the sentiments of the present. He saw more clearly than the statesmen of his day that in the natural order of events the area of slaveholding States could not 1)e extended, but nnist be gradually diminished. Before many years he expected the boi'der States to

lf)G THE FUTUIU': OF SLA VEliY. [is:.4

become free States. In the phintatioii States alone he looked for pernumenco, ami tlu' extension of slave territory beyond the eotton })elt he did not desire. While he thoroughly believed in the right of all citizens to occupy the Territories with property which was recognized as such by the Constitution of tli(>ir country, he believed that slave labor could not possibly be made available in the northwestern Territories for any length of time. Hence he regarded the Kansas struggle as a blunder on the part of the North, which could not long be troubled by the pressure of slavery in that region, and as a double l)lunder, economical and political, on the part of the South. For similar reasons he had no sympathy with those who desired the annexation of Cuba, holding that it would lessen the influence of the Soutli to a degree which no increase of territory and no temporaiy gain of votes in Congress could compensate. To fulfill its destiny, the South, as he coneeived, must be raised and sustained by intellectual and moral forces, not dragged down l)y the dead weight of an alien people; and unless the dominant race at the South should ])e worthily fitted for their difficult position by education and l)y moral and religious culture, he clearly saw and apprehended the dangers of hereditary wealth in the midst of a subject race. It was not at all because he undeiTated the people of the South, but because he believed that God had called them to an excepticmally difficult and dangerous position, both toward the subject race and toward their country, that he magnified the necessity of inspiring their enthusiasm in favor of a grand and beneficent work of education.

Clnn-chman as he was to his heart's core, he felt as painfully as any the dependence of the Soutli on other poi-tioiis (if the ('(inutrv for its sii|>ply rif clergy. It was

his fixed conviction that every country ought to liave a native ministry; and to the South, with its peculiar type of ci\dlization, the necessity was particuhirly great. The majority' of the clergy at the South were either from the North or from other countries where the system of the South, as he conceived, w^as misunderstood; and, however faithful they might be, they were never able to make full proof of their ministry until they had been in some sort naturalized as southern citizens. This alone was a disadvantage; but as the antislavery agitation gathered strength, and as southern people came more and more to regard northern peoj^le as hostile to themselves and their institutions, the instructions of pastors on the plainest duties of master and servant were not readily received from men of northern birth. At the same time, and for the same reasons, northern clergymen w^ere reluctant to accept positions at the South. Hence it became, j^ear by year, more essential that the Chiu'ch in the South should have a native ministry. That the rearing of such a ministry was one of the good works which the bishop expected to result from the university is evident. It is equally evident that he expected the Church of his love to be the largest gainer by it in every way; and yet he regarded the function of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in establishing the university, with the eye of a statesman rather than with that of a mere ecclesiastic. "After all," he said, '' the Church is the heart of Anglo-Saxon Christianity. The other denominations have retained more of the Christian heritage they have received fi'om her than they have ever rejected, and they are even now more in unity with her than they are with each other. We shall never win them back by any system of vulgar proselyt-ism ; but if we can win their hearts and command their

respect by some gi-eat worlc which meets their approbation, they will rally rouud her more readily than they now cooperate witli each other. The university is such a work, and if the Church cannot do it, nobody can." Thus, wliile he undoubtedly expected great and lasting benefits to accrue to the Church from her control of the university, he looked for them in the exact proportion in which the Church should prove herself to be a general benefactor rather than a beneficiary.

It will always be difficult for those who had no personal acquaintance with the minds of conscientious slaveholders to understand the absolute fact that, from first to last, Bishop Polk expected the negi'o population to be, indirectly but really, the largest beneficiaries of the university. His consideration of slavery as an institution was entirely practical. That African slavery was in its origin a crime, and that the slave-trade was an atrocity, there could be no kind of doubt; but for the origin of slavery he was no more responsible than for the tricks and frauds by which so many land titles were originally acquired from the aborigines of this continent. Before he was born, many thousands of negroes had been '' imported " under the sanction of the laws of England and America; and the institution of American slaveiy was an inherited fact, in the creation of which he had had no concern. To return the slaves to Africa was impossible ; and if it had been possible, he now saw that it would be a cruelty. Besides, it was a fact patent to observation that in their state of servitude the negroes were steadily advancing in Christianity and civilization. They were no longer savages; they were docile, kindly, Christian people, who might in time become fit for freedom; but they still seemed to be very insufficiently prepared for the state of liberty. The experiments in the way of

xEt. 4bJ EDUCATION IN THE SOUTH. l!)iJ

individual emancipation which had been made had, not been encouraging; and, as a class, the free-negro population, where it existed, gave no hopeful indication that a general emancipation of the slaves would or could be beneficial. To thoughtful southern men it was manifest that the existing order had done and was still doing — quietly and perhaps slowly, but surely — a beneficent work in the gradual elevation of the subject race; but, on the other hand, it seemed to them to be not less evident that premature emancipation might be disastrous to both races, and that the steps by which emancipation might at last be wisely reached must be measured by generations, not by years. Hence they held that the question of a general emancipation was not a practical question for their time. But for that very reason it was a matter of unspeakable importance that the ruling race of the South should realize the greatness of the trust which had been providentially committed to them in the care of an ignorant and helpless people, and that they should be intellectually and morally qualified to fulfill it; and, consequently, however great the direct advantages of the university might be to the white race, its indirect benefit to the black race could not fail to be incomparably greater.

The colleges and other institutions of learning which were already in existence at the South had Bishop Polk's fullest sympathy and his most generous appreciation. For the University of North Carolina at Chapel HiU he had a very high i-egard, and in the University of Mississippi he was much interested. But, at the best, the institutions of learning in the South, outside of Virginia, were merely colleges; some of them were little more than fau'ly good high-schools; none of them were universities, even when they bore the name; and that

•200 CONCEPTION OF THE UNIVERSITY. [1854

they did not meet the necessities of the people was apparent from the fact that the number of their students was always small, the greater number of southern students being sent to northern schools. The University of Virginia, it is true, stood high among the institutions of learning of the whole land; but, with his views and expectations of the future, it was impossible for Bishop I*olk to regard any institution situated in the border States as the permanent seat of such a university as he believed to be necessary for the South. It is always to l)e remembered that he expected the gradual extinction of slaverj^ in the border States, and believed its ultimate confinement to the cotton belt to be inevitable. He thought, therefore, that the university ought to be situated where it woid.d accomplish the good for which it was immediately intended; and therefore from the first the bishops and dioceses whom he sought to associate in the project of the university were the bishops and dioceses of the cotton States. With the existing educational institutions of those States it was his desire that the University should cultivate the closest relations of goodwill, and also, if possible, of active cooperation. It entered into th(i plans of the University that it should have subordinate preparatory schools in aU the States, and that it should afford ample facilities for special stmly to the students and graduates of all other institutions.

The conception of the university as it was at last matured in Bishop Polk's mind was grand indeed — grander than he sometimes thought it wise to tell. Some great domain (such as he did in fact secure) was to be exclusively devoted to the purposes of education, without interference from any power or person outside of a board of rrovernors constituted l\v the statutes of the

university itself. The charter of the university was to secure to the hebdomadal board, as I think it was called, municipal authority within the entire domain. Thus, every undesirable association was to be excluded. The lands were never to be sold in fee, but only rented on long- leases, which shoidd be forfeited if the property AvcT'c used for any purpose forbidden by the terms of an agreement framed entirely in the interests of the university. In different parts of the domain stately buildings were to be erected, and fitted with all appliances that the experience of educators throughout the world had found necessary or desirable for purposes of education. From all parts of the world eminent professors of all the faculties were to be gathered together, at whatever cost. Inducements were to be offered to distinguished men of letters to make their homes there; and to this end special lectureships were to be endowed which should assure them a modest income without withdrawing them from their particular pursuits. In time it was expected that presses would be established from which a native literature should be issued. In short, the university domain was to be fitted and prepared for a honu'. of aU the arts and sciences and of literary culture in the southern States.

His experience or his observation, or both, had so filled him with a horror of the barrack system of lodging students that he would have refused to have anything to do with an educational enterprise of which that system formed a part. For the university his plan was that the students should live with families who should be encouraged to make their abode on the university domain for that special purpose. There would always, he thought, be a sufficient number of persons of character and culture, but of limited means, who would be glad

'20-1 noMP: LIFE FOli STUDENTS. [1854

to add to their resources by supplying liomes fov the students; but the number of students in a single family was never to be large enough to destroy the feeling of family life. Not more than ten or twelve at the utmost were ever to be lodged in one house.

In various waj^s he planned that the students should have the greatest possible amount of association with theh' kindred, both at their own homes and at the university. It is in the winter season that the climate of the cotton-growing regions of the South is most salubrious, and in that season is the time of gi-eatest social enjoyment and family festivity. On the other hand, the university domain, placed, as it should be (and as it was), somewhere in the mountainous region lying around Chattanooga, would enjoy a summer climate surpassed b}- no other in the world. Therefore it was in the mn-ter season that the long vacation of the university was to be given, and not in the summer, as is customaiy elsewhere; and strong inducements were to be offered to planters and others to make their summer homes at the university during the period of theii* usual annual vacation of several months. To persons whose sons were students such an an-angement would be eminently desirable, and it was hoped that the social, intellectual, and climatic advantages presented would soon make the university domain a place of popular resort to the best classes of southern society. The benefit to the students of thus maintaining the habit and associations of family life in the midst of their studies is obvious enough; and to gather the best elements of the southern people at the seat of so great an institution of learning during the season of its most active operation must surely exert a salutary influence directly upon them and indirectly on the whole society in wliich they lived and moved. Thus

there was no class of the whole people that the bishop did not hope might be benefited by the success of the nniversity: masters and slaves; students, parents, and society; the nation in general and the southern States in particular, — he thought of all, and he intended good to all.

No one knew better than Bishoj) Polk that for the inauguration of so vast a scheme, and much more for its successful accomphshment, time and money would be necessary. But he also knew that time is always coming, and he had an abiding faith that his southern countrymen would come to his assistance with generous gifts and munificent endowments as soon as they should understand his plans. In order to build solidly and grandly he was content to hasten slowly. He expected years to elapse before the university could be begun-He did not think that any beginning could be safely made until a minimum sum of half a million of dollars should have been subscribed and paid into the treasury, or otherwise secured in a safe and available way. It is true that half a million of dollars at that time, when money commanded a much higher rate of interest than now, was an immense sum, but it was only a beginning of the endowment which in his opinion would be needed for the work. He thought that before the university could bo said to be safely established it must have an endowment of three millions of dollars. No part of the endowment was to be spent, even for the erection of buildings; the interest only was to be used; and as the usual rate of interest at the South was eiglit per cent., the interest of only one half-million of dollars would have given an annual sum of forty thousand dollars with which to begin the erection of the necessary buildings. If peace had continued and Bishop Polk had

lived, there is not the slightest reason to donbt that he would have secured the whole sum of three miUions of money for the endowment of the university; for when he and Bishop Elliott could hardly be said to have made more than a fair beginning of the work of canvassing for subscriptions, they had actually secured something-over half a million. Never were higher, nobler, or better founded hopes more cruelly frustrated. The misery of war swept the endo\\Tnent clean away, and after the war was over nothing remained but the magnificent domain on the Sewanee Mountain and the recollection of a glorious hope. All honor to the men who, with the recollection of so great a hope, have had the magnanimity to labor faithfully for smaller things with motives worthy of the gi'eatest.

It was in the summer of 1856 that Bishop Polk made his first public announcement of the university project. He had weighed every difficult}' and believed that every difficulty could be overcome. He had estimated the forces and resources which might be set in motion and applied to the furtherance of his scheme, and was satisfied of their sufficiency. Ha\ing assured himself that the time was ripe for the accomplishment of the work, he addi-essed a printed letter^ to the bishops of the dioceses in the States of North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, Arkansas, and Tennessee (which he caused to be widely distributed), claiming their counsel and cooperation. He appealed to them on the ground of their apostolic character and jurisdiction, and reminded them that as their commission extended to all men within their dioceses, and not less to those who rejected than to those who admitted their

1 •' University of the South Papers."' vol. i, p. 4.

authority, so it was their bounden duty to labor for the intellectual as well as the religious welfare of all for whom that commission made them so deeply responsible. In the same letter he sought to stimulate and inspire the churchmen of the South by his unequivocal declaration that Church principles "are of the essence of Christ's religion," and to encourage them with the hope of winning back to the Church thousands whose forefathers had wandered from it. Having thus prepared them for his proposition, he proceeded to show that a perfectly equipped institution of learning provided by the Church and governed by the Church, but open to all the people of the South and intended for the benefit of all, would lie the best means of reaching all. He admitted the value of the existing institutions, but he pointed out their defects and showed the reasons of their insufficiency. State institutions, he said, had been weakened by the erection of denominational colleges, and the latter had weakened each other by their numbers and rivalry, so that, at last, none of them could offer their students the opportunities and facilities which were requisite for the acquisition of the highest learning. In the meantime the Church had not one institution of her own, even for the training of her ministry. From this cause many persons were deterred from entering the ministry at all; and hence at the South, where a native ministry was peculiarly desirable, no native ministry could be provided. Observing a delicate silence concerning the disastrous failure of previous educational enterprises undertaken liy different dioceses and individual bishops at the South, he showed that not one of the dioceses whose bishops he was addressing was strong enough l)y itself alone to accomplish any great work of that kind. But what was impossible for them singly

he insisted that they had ample means to accomplish on the grandest scale if they would nnite their forces. He called attention to the incidental advantages of frequent association and conference with each other which woidd follow from their association in some great work of common interest, in putting an end to the painful isolation from the larger movements of the Church to which the southern churchmen were condemned by the distance of theu- homes from the great centers of Chiu'ch life and energy. Then, opening before the eyes of his readers the map of the southern States, he showed them that '' trade, with her lynx-eyed vigilance for commercial advantages," had laid down her iron roads fi-om every State in the cotton belt to a common center, in a region of unsurpassed salubrity, at the southern end of the Alleghany range of mountains, thus bringing every one of the dioceses concerned within easy access of a ])art of the country which, on every account, was well adapted to the purpose contemplated. If the \'iews which he had thus presented found favor with his brethren of the episcopate, he suggested that a meeting for conference on the subject might be conveniently had during the sessions of the General Convention of the Clinrch whieli was to meet in the following October, when they might call to their councils the clerical and lay deputies of their several dioceses.

The letter of the bishop had an instantaneous effect. The grandeur of his project and the bold simpHcity with which it was set forth appealed to the imagination of his readers, and its practical common sense conciliated their judgment. To the bishops it opened a way of meeting their responsibilities as it had not before been possible to meet them, and of magnifying their office by the " good work" which is its gloiy. To the southern

Church at large it gave the inspiration of a lofty enterprise by which it might become the benefactor of all classes and conditions of men, and vindicate its claim to he the Church of the people. At the same time, unequivocal as were the Chm-cli principles expressed in the letter, it contained nothing to wound the feelings of Christian people of whatever name, and to the minds of southern men of all religious tendencies and associations it brought a hope of wiping out the shame with which their sectional opponents were continually twitting them, that the southern people had proved themselves incapable of creating institutions of the highest learning. The whole public of the South was attracted to the Church as it had never been before; and even men like Governor Swain of North Carolina, president of the university of that State, who believed that the State and not any particular church ought to provide the highest educational privileges for the youth of the country, were candid enough to admit that, if any church were to undertake that duty, " the Episcopal Church is the most compact and perfect thing that has ever been devised on this continent."

Now that he had taken the responsibility of proposing the scheme of the university without seeking to involve any one else in the danger of possible failm-e, the bislioi) was assiduous in commending it by private correspondence to representative men of all sorts. The amount of his correspondence at this time, conducted as it Avas without the assistance of a scci-etaiy, was almost incredible. But it was to his dearest friend, Bishop Elliott, of Georgia, that he opened his mind with the most perfect unreserve. Polk and Elliott were the complements of each otlu'i". B}' l)ii'th, by education, and by every instinct of their natiu'es, they were gnitlenirii. One who

kuew them both, and knew them well, has said: *' It has been my privilege to know many noble men, many Christian men, many gentlemen in every way worthy of the name; but no two men have I ever known so brave, so strong, so courteous, so gentle, so nobly manly, and so sweetly and simply godly, as those two." It was natural that Leonidas Polk and Stephen EUiott should love each other; they could not lielp it. But there was a peculiar fitness in their associaticm with each other; for EUiott had precisely the qualifications which enabled him to supplement what Polk lacked. He was an accomplished scholar, classical and artistic in all his tastes, a master of English, and yet so profound a student of natural science that in certain departments he was admitted to be among the foremost men in the whole South. Thus he was ready to enter fully into Polk's views of the due scope of a liberal education, neither undervaluing classical learning nor content that it should be divorced from science. His accomplishments as a -WTiter fitted him to put liefore the pul)lic in the best form the views which they held in common, and in the documents concerning the university subsequently published under their joint names it is easy, from cei'-tain peculiarities of style, to recognize the hand of EUiott. Polk's style was not perfect, and he generously rejoiced in the superior literary accomplishments of EUiott. Polk's own style, however, was very far from being a bad style. It was at least good enough to convey his ideas so clearly and forcibly as to impress them on the minds of his readers, and he had the rare faculty of impai'ting to what he wrote something of the magnetic influence wliich so wonderfully marked his intercourse with other men. This nuiy be felt even now in reading his letter to the s(»uthern bishops, referred to

^t.50] STBENGTH IN UNION. HCJ

above, and in his letters to Elliott, which are given

below:

New Orleans, July 23, 1856.

My dear Elliott: I send you herewith a letter I have taken the liberty to address to you and others of our brethren in southern dioceses, publicly, on a su]:)ject which very nearly concerns us all, and which I trust wiU find favor with you. The letter will explain itself. I am satisfied now is oiu- time. If we unite we can accomplish all we want. We have strength enough in the Church, but for such purposes and under such auspices we shall not want help from those who are Avithout. Whatever is done should be done judiciously, but upon the most liberal scale. There is no reason why in such hands and under such supervision we might not in five years have a Church university which would rival the establishment at Harvard or Yale. I am perfectly and increasingly satisfied that notliing short of that will save us as a Chin-ch, and as a southern Church in particular. A movement of some kind is indispensable to rally and unite us, to develop our resom'ces and demonstrate our power. We must rise above diocesan considerations, and look to the good of the whole, in this case, as our individual good. Separately we are powerless, and we can gain efficiency only by combination.

Take the whole matter, my dear brother, into your serious consideration, and let me hear what you think of it. I regi'et the number of errors inflicted upon it in its passage through the press. I \vTote it on the eve of my departure for a visitation fi'om Avhich I have just returned, and left it to another to read the proofs.

Very truly and affectionately,

Leonidas Polk.

New Orleans, August 30, 1856.

My dear Elliott: I have been sick, and have been at the seaside for a few days. On ray return I found your welcome letter of the 2d.

When making that tender of a plan of union and cooperation contained in my printed letter, I did not foi'get your ex-

perience in tlic matter of school enterprises. I was prepared to have you remind me of the adage of the "bm-nt child," and felt I must accept it as a plea in abatement of any special enthusiasm on your part at the outset. It was not only a sore but a sound piece of instruction, that of yours ; and one upon w'liich I felt we might count as an avaUabUity in the present matter. We did not fail, my dear brother, to suffer with you whde you were suffering, so far, at least, as we were permitted by the facts and circumstances. You have, undoubtedly, been forced to see things from a point of view which \\dll be useful to us in the General Conference, and may help to keep us off a rock or a sand-lmr. Let us not make our conclusions broader than our premises, however. Failure in one, two, or half a dozen instances should not be conclusive against all effort to remedy a confessed e\dl of increasing and portentous magnitude. The wisest and most forecasted and cautious of men are still men, and are not above the reach of mishaps or errors.

And besides, God's pro\ddence, for wise reasons, may sometimes interpose and prevent lesser successes that the way may be open for greater. Who can tell ? But, be all this as it may, here stands out, patent upon the face of things, in bold and startling relief, a mass of facts touching the present and futui-e of our southern Church, which demand to be seen and considered and dealt Avith, if we mean to meet what the times exact, and to keep the Church for whose success we are committed from being swamped.

I think, my dear EUiott, I cannot be mistaken in the signs of the times. A few years more are all that are wanted to make what is now a shadowy phantom an embodied and living and impressive reality; and we shall have nothing left us but bitter and unavailing reproaches if we do not wake up to the necessity of pro-\dding amply for the emergency that is at the door. You know as well as I do the state of feeUng which is every day gi'owing stronger among northern clergymen and teachers, churchmen though they be, on the subject of coming South to labor. Thus far we have been able to hold that matter in check in the northern Church mind by the

independent, and manly, and Christian way iu which we have, as southern churchmen, dealt with the question. But it is in check only; it is a pent-up thing ; it is tremendously pressed from the rearj it feels the pressure; and now and then it

cries out (as in 's article, with its slurs on bishops, on

which I took occasion, by the way, to give him my mind very fully). Now, my dear sir, the time was when I did not tliink it worth while to discuss such things. It is with the extrem-est reluctance that I admit the necessity now; but I must be blind as a churchman — hopelessly blind — if I did not see them. I say, then, as a Church, where are we in these dioceses, cut off in feeling, and in sympathy, and in fact from the dioceses of the North, with a wall as high as the heavens between us and them ? Look over your clergy list, and the lists of all your brethren around you, and see whence it is. Look over the lists of the teachers of your schools, your governesses, and your tutors. Whence are they ? It may be said that the Good Book says: '' Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." It is true; but the Good Book never takes a one-sided view of anything, and we read in it also that "a wise man foreseeth the evil and hideth himself, but the fool passeth on and is punished."

Talk of slavery! Those madcaps at the North don't understand the thing at all. We hold the negroes, and they hold us ! They are at the head of the ladder ! They furnish the yoke and we the neck! My own is getting sore, and it is the same with those of my neighbors in Church and State. We think it safe to avail of the sensibility still left. There is such a thing as induration, and we are afraid of it. But besides, we are afraid of the influence of northern seminaries and colleges on the mind of southern youths. We revolt at the humiliation to which the impotence of our position and resources subjects us now, and still more at the deeper humiliation into which we see it in the power of contingencies at hand to plunge us. In short, we see no Avay in which relief is to be had but by rising right up and meeting the emergency. We must shake off our lethargy, awake to the actual position of affairs, and set ourselves to pro-

viding foi' our own wants. This is our first duty, supposing no such feeling as that existing at the North had being. How much more in the face of that feehng!

I see Avhat you say of the influence of theological seminaries and presses. All that is very well. But to kick against them is to kick against the pricks. The decree is gone forth; they are inaugurated 5 they are enthroned; they reign ! They are the coinage of the mind and heart of the age. They are necessaries which its sense of its wants has demanded, and does demand, and will have. The thing, then, to be considered is whether you will have them imposed upon you by somebody else, or whether you will organize, equip, control, and use them for yourself, and employ them, if need be, in imparting what you think the truth of God to the minds of others. We must either receive or make impressions. "We have done our share of receiving! The time has fully come when we should enter upon the work of making aggi*ession as the very essence of our commission. Educational establishments in all departments are the universally recognized arsenals whence available armor is to be drawn for that sort of campaigning, and a sorry plight we shall find ourselves in presently, cut off from those whence we have been accustomed to draw, with no alternative of our own in reserve. No, my dear Elliott; I see nothing left us but to imite at once, and hastily, for the common defense.

I note what you say of a university. In the first place, I think you are mistaken as to the strength of the Church in these States. I think, if properly approached, with a full and free exposition of our actual condition, we shoulil find churchmen — they surely have the ability — willing to come up to such work as is now indicated, and to lay the foundation of such institutions of learning as are indispensable for our security and protection, to say nothing of our prosperity. But they must be made to see the whole ground, and to effect that we have only to will it. But, my dear sir, we are, as I think, fortunate in our sun-oundings, in the condition of the whole atmosphere at the present moment.

The temper of the outside public is ripe for just such a movement. It is the thing of all others that they are well prepared for. The events now rife and current have forced the Southern mind back upon itself. It has been and is being drawn fi'om the North in spite of itself, especially for the means of educating the young. A large number of the young people will be forced back from the other side of Mason and Dixon's line. Right or wrong, their parents, to use their own language, " would rather their children should go half educated than send them thither." But they would prefer that they should have access to the highest educational advantages. How is this thing to be effected *? If it is to be done, it must be done by themselves and their section, and they cannot do it unless they unite. We have, it is true, many colleges, but they are local. They do not expect to do more than to provide for their several States. They have not the claims nor the prestige of anything like nationality about them. They are not conmion stock. They are not placed on such a footing as will supply the facilities or advantages offered by Harvard or Yale. Our people feel this. They are twitted with the difficulty, and they feel the taunt, but they could not be rallied upon any one of the existing colleges to supply the deficiency. They would find it easier to unite in a new thing, especially if the auspices under which it is introduced and is to be arranged were acceptable. Such I believe to be just the condition of the present movement. I believe the southern mind outside the Church is ripe for this. I believe it will hail the movement with pleasure, especially if we strike high with a good strong hand, with a united heart and will, and if we propose to them the sort of thing which will supply that of which they are deprived. To be attractive it must come up to the measure of the necessities of the occasion. It must fully meet their wants. If we propose this — we, as churchmen — and pledge ourselves to its administration as leading clergymen and laymen of these dioceses, we shall not lack the money necessary to carry out the wishes of all parties. To be anything, this movement

must be everytliing: required for eilucation. Its veiy amplitude will be its claim to the confidence and support of the public. As a highly intelligent Methodist said to me with regard to it, the fact that people give grudgingly to a local enterprise is no proof at all that they will be guided by that rule in such an enterprise as this.

How the proposal is likely to take with the public generally you will see by the notice taken of it by the whole New Orleans secular press. These papers, copies of whose issues I have caused to be sent you, represent all opinions in pohtics and religion. They are the exponents of public sentiment, and, to a man, take favorable notice of the movement, commending and sanctioning it as meeting a necessity. This they have done of their own fi-ee will and accord. They have thus stamped upon it the approbation of the southern public, and to a certain extent guaranteed for it southern countenance and substantial aid, so far at least as this region which they represent is concerned. They have confidence in the integrity, capacity, social power, and influence of the Church. If we say Ave will take the laboring oar, they will accept the ser\ace and be pleased to use us for their purposes and those of this region. There ought to be enough love of learning in the Church itself to found and amply endow the institution we would establish. I think there is a large amount at our disposal — enough, perhaps, for our purpose.

To unite the Church in these ten dioceses, and to unite the people of these ten States, a vast and rare advantage is found in the fact that the dioceses and States are the same. This is true of none other of the religious organizations. I cannot doubt, therefore, if we will go together in solid column, we may carry all our points to the satisfaction of all fair and reasonable expectations for the Church as well as the State. But besides, have we no Abbots or La-svrences ? AVhy not find men and women who, for their Church's and their country's sake, will found professorships and scholarships and fellowships, and libraries and chapels ? None in all these ten plantation States ? You must have the opportunity offered in order to know.

So much of this matter, which I confess appears to my mind, as a southern man and as a churchman, to be of leading importance. Having leisure, I have allowed my pen to say quite as much as I fear you will have time to read. For the rest, I shall be glad to discuss it with you when we meet in Philadelphia.! If better things or a better way can be shown by ^\•hich we can carry out our wishes and meet the necessities by which we are all oppressed, I shall be glad to fall in with them and bear my share of the work of making them ours. I trust we may be preserved from error, and guided to wise and sober conclusions. I have letters from Atkinson, Davis, Ruttledge, and Otey, all of whom express satisfaction with this plan of mine, and bid the movement God-speed. Green and Freeman, I take it, are away from home ; but from both of them I have had verbally their assent to the movement and an expression of their desire for cooperation. Several of Cobbs's clergy assure me of his cooperation. I sent the printed letter to all the clergy in the States, and to all the leading laity whom I knew. From many of them in all the States, both clergy and laity, I have had letters expressing strong approbation of the proposal, with offers of strong personal influence and of money. . . . Very truly and affectionately,

Leonidas Polk.

Beyond all question it was vdtli considerable anxiety that Bishop Polk awaited the meeting of the General Convention of 1856, at which his expectations of snpport in his enterprise were to be verified or disappointed; but, as the days went on, his anxiety was set at rest by the -evidence of sympathy and the promises of snbstan-tial assistance which came to him from all parts of the South. Long before the Convention met, he was assured of the cooperation of the southern bishops; and indeed if the l)ishops themselves had been less warm in their approval of the proi)osed institution, they would have

1 At the meeting oL' the Gcueral Coiiventiou.

been roused into enthusiasm In- the earnestness with whieh it was received by their elero^j- and laity.

When they actually met at the Con\ention they united ill an address to the southern Church,^ which was doubly valuable as the first official indorsement of Polk's scheme by the hierarchy of the south, and as an evidence of the power with which he had impressed his ideas on men of independent character, of ripe experience, of high office, and of unquestionable conscientiousness.

The project of establishing the university was now fairly launched in full \-iew of the Chui'ch and the world. In the South it had been everwhere hailed with acclamation, and the approval of multitudes who were in no way connected with the Church was apparently as cordial as the utterance of the Church itself. Indeed, the Church seemed to be strangely quiet. It had been called, most unexpectedly, to the aecomphsh-meut of a work which all men felt to be necessary, but which, by common consent, it seemed to be conceded the Church alone was capable of performing. Without hesitation, but equally mthout boastfulness, the dioceses of the South accepted the duty devolved upon them. One by one, in their annual diocesan conventions, they considered the proposition submitted to them by their bishops, and unanimously resolved to do what was required of them. Delegates were chosen in every diocese to attend a meeting which had been appointed to be held on the 4th of Juh', 1857, on Lookout Mountain, Tenn., for the purpose of taking preliminary st«ps toward the perfecting of an efficient organization foi* the founding of the university.

The holding of that meeting on the anniversary of the

1 See " University of the South Papers," vol. i, p. 15.

national independence of the United States was intended to proclaim the national and patriotic sentiments of all who were engaged in the enterprise. In the original conception and in every detail of the project their aims had been sincere. In nndertaking their work they had thonglit to benefit their own section, not only without injnry to any other, bnt with ultimate advantage to their whole country; and yet they had been forced to recognize the painful fact that a narrow prejudice had caused a beneficent project, which, if undertaken at the North, would be regarded as a soui'ce of just pride, to be considered by certain of their northern brethren as an object of suspicion and dislike. It was humiliating to be compelled to recognize the existence of such feelings; but the University of the South was intended to be not a whit more sectional and not a whit less nationally patriotic than the institutions of Harvard, Yale, Columbia, or Princeton. Its promoters knew themselves to be sincere lovers of their whole country. In the veins of some of them flowed the blood of men whose swords had aided in achieving the independence of these States, and whose counsels had been heeded in the first foundation of the Union. If sectional animosity had sprung up, no influence of theirs had sown or fostered it. If the Union had indeed become endangered, they were not responsil)le. In their places as citizens and as churchmen they were loyal alike to the United States and to the several States to which they owed allegiance. The work in which they were engaged was meant to further purely patriotic ends; and they resolved that their first associated act should be a public celebration of the independence of their countiy, the rearing, as Otey said, not of an altar of political schism, but an " altar of witness " to the loyalty of their intentions.

part0004

218 MEETING AT LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. [1857

The trustees assembled for the first time at Lookout jMountaiu, near Chattanooga, in the State of Tennessee, on the 4th of July, 1857. Accompanied by a goodly iiuiiil)t'i" of the clergy and laity of the Church, and of other citizens, they formed a procession and marched to the place appointed for the exercises of the day. the flag of tlic United States was borne by a surviving soldier of the Revolution, while national airs were played l)y a band which had been secured for the occasion. The assembled company sang the hundredth Psalm, and then the Bishop of Mississippi read the twenty-second chapter of Joshua. To use the words of Bishop Lay, that chapter " recites how the tribes of Reuben and Gad and the lialf tribe of Mauasseh received their inheritance ' on the other side of Jordan'; and how, when their enemies were all defeated, and they had returned to their homes, they 'built there an altar l)y Jordan, a great altar to see to.' It describes the indignation of Israel; the expostulation of their deputed elders against what seemed to be an act frauglit with rebellion and hostile to the peace and unity of brethren; and the earnestness with which any such intentions were disclaimed. They had said, • Let us now prepare us an altar, not for burnt-offering nor for sacrifice, but that it may be a witness between us and you, and our generations after us, that we might do the service of the Lord, . . . that yoiu* children may not say to our children in time to come, Ye have no part in the Lord.' The reader added no comment to this well-chosen Scri|)ture — already every heart was full. For these first sjjoken words expressed the thought of all, that not in malice or in mischief, not in rebellion or in disaffection, had Ave come together beneath the blue sky; that, so far from rearing an altar of discontent, we had met witii a just ])ride in our common heritage, with

au abiding devotion to our common faith, with more than a brother's hive to the tribes more numerous and more favored than ourselves, separated from the hills and streams of our common home." After the lesson the Te Be urn, was suug, prayers were offered by the Bishop of Alabama, and the Gloria ui Excehis was chanted by the company. Then the Declaration of Independence was read, and Bishop Otey proceeded to deliver the oration of the day.

" Various emotions," says Dr. Lay, " were stirred as the right reverend speaker uttered his earnest words. The reference wdth which he happily began, to St. Paul's claim to Roman citizenship, reminded us all that the patriot is not of necessity lost in the Christian; that in liolding aloft the cross of Christ we need not blush to place beneath it the stars and stripes; and that, after the echoes of the hills had been awfdvcd with the loftiest strains of Christian praise, it was not unfitthig to bid them presently give back the animating notes of freedom's songs."

'' Thus far," continues the narrator, " the flag hung idly from its staff; but when the bishop began to speak of our country and the love all good men bear it, a breeze came to stir the stars and stripes; and still as he proceeded to denounce the thought that we would come with holy words upon our lips to plot mischief against our brethren, the flag waved more proudly than before, seeking the person of the speaker, and causing his words to come, as it were, from the midst of its folds. As the oration progressed, warm tears filled many an eye and would not be repressed. At its close the band struck up ' Hail Columbia,' and the company rose to their feet. Many hastened to thank the orator for the just expression he had given to their sentiments ; then all dispersed

and might be seen in friendly gi'on})s still prolonging the pleasant theme."

The next da\ , Sunday, having been spent in the enjoyment of religions privileges, the l)()ard met on Monday for the despatch of business, and ado])ted a " Declaration of Princii)les." kSeveral necessary committees Avere appointed, particularly one to collect information on the subject of a suitable location foi- the nniversity, and the board adjourned again to meet in Montgomery, Ala., in the following Xovemljer.

We here produce a letter from Bishop Polk to his l)rother-in-law. Mr. Kenneth Raynor, of North Carolina, which deals with the subject dwelt npon by Bishop Otey in his address; and any (me avIio is familiar with the true state of affairs in the United States in the years during which the effort was being made to found this nniversity can but acknowledge that it strikes close to the ro(;t of the difficulty which rendered possible the war between the States. While the politicians were engaged in drafting compromises Bishop Polk wrote:

Beersheba Springs, Tenx., July 30, 1S57. I have endeavored to keep you advised of the progress of my scheme for founding an Oxford, or a Gottingen, or a Bonn, or all three combined. I am at it very steadily, and thus far very successfully. You will have seen in the papers a notice of our meeting on the Fourth. It was a glorious day and fixed the success. I refer you to the account in the Church Journal of New York, to be published shoi-tly. I am resolved, with the help of God, that this thing shall be felt by the Chi;rch and the State. I am sure that the tone of the admirable address by Otey, every word of which I indorse, our senior and orator on the occasion of the organization, will satisfy you and all Union-loving men very thoroughly. I will send j'ou a copy on its appearance. You will perceive, while it looks to catering to our owu innuediate wants, it breathes a spirit of

broad nationality. I understand P is afraid it ■nnll injure

Chapel Hill. But we shall give all these good gentlemen who indulge in talk about the South a chance to show their.hands. We shall see what they mean when they cry, " Down with the abolitionists and up with negrodom!" I believe it will do more to compose and reconcile national feeling through the Church than anything, or all things together, that Episcopalians have attempted heretofore, besides giving us as a section a position from the possession of such an educational resource which will assure to us a respectability and influence of more consequence tlian all sectional political combination. I am happy to say a spirit of enlightened and liberal patriotism seems to animate those who are chiefly interested, and wc have reason to believe we shall not want the means, as we do not lack the nerve, to carry this thing steadily and quietly to its ultimate consummation.

The interval which elapsed between the meeting at Lookout Mountain and the adjonrned meeting at Montgomery was full of business. The bishop was chairman of the committee on the location of the university; and from all parts of the district within which it had been resolved to select a site, applications poured in upon him from individuals and communities, urging a consideration of the advantages of situations in which they were interested, and making large offers of material contributions in ease the points which they recommended should be chosen. Conspicnously advantageous offers were sent from Atlanta, Huntsville, McMinnville, Lookout Mountain, and Sewanee, any one of which might well have been accepted with satisfaction ; bnt the bishop was resolved to let no consideration weigh with him against the natural features which he had held to be essential to the realization of his plans. He personally examined every proposed site, and, not content ^vith his own impressions, he organized an engineer i-orps. undci* the cliai'ge of an

accomplished engineer, to make a topo^-aphical survey of each one of them. The minute instructions given to the engineer were from Polk's hand, and showed the variety of the research on which he was resolved to base his final judgment.

With tlic fullest attainable information concerning the places proposed for the location of the university, the board of trustees, when they met at Montgoraeiy, found it almost impossible to make a selection. Several ballots were taken without a choice, and the board adjourned for several hours in order to give time for more mature deliberation. On reassembling, many more ineffectual ballots were had; but on the seventeenth ballot the tellers reported that Sewanee had been chosen by the following vote:

Of bishops : Sewanee, 5 ; Atlanta, 2.

Of the clerical and lay tinistees: Sewanee, 4; Hunts-ville, 2 ; Atlanta, 1.

Thus Sewanee, which had been the choice of Bishop Polk from the first, became the choice of all. If he had pressed his preference upon his colleagues, the end might have been reached in less time, but it would have been less satisfactory. He had foreseen that no agreement could be reached in favor of any other place, and he felt sure that the wonderful adaptation of Sewanee to the objects of the university would in the end commend it to the preference of a majority of the board. Besides the natural advantages to be mentioned presently, the offers made b}- the parties interested in the selection of Sewanee were of princely liberality. The president of the Sewanee Mining Company offered in the name of tlu^ company to donate 5000 acres of land; to grant the tiiistecs of tlif university the right to cut from other lands belor.giiig lo the company i)ine timber to the

amount of 1,000,000 feet of lumber; to transport over their railroad to the site of the university 20,000 tons of building-material, free of charge; and to give the university 20,000 tons of coal within ten years. In addition to this, a wealthy citizen of the neighborhood offered to give 5000 acres of land adjacent to the tract offered by the Sewanee Company; and three other gentlemen offered a third tract of land, described as " covering pretty much the whole track of the Sewanee Raih-oad on the side of the mountain, along which are valuable quarries of sand and limestone, and on which there is excellent timber for building, all of which is at the service of the university." By accepting these offers the university at once acquired a magnificent domain of about ten thousand acres, lying on a gently undulating plateau nearly two thousand feet above the level of the sea, and eight hundred and fifty feet above the level of the surrounding country, from which it is separated by almost perpendicular cliffs; with every material for building in abundance — stone, lime, sand, brick-clay, and timber of the best quality — within its own area; with innumerable springs of pure water bubbling from the rocks; with ample supplies of excellent coal within a few miles and to be had at a very moderate cost; the whole area of the plateau affording, according to the report of the engineer, " a gi-eat variety of picturesque sites for single buildings, and extensive level areas for groups, commanding beautiful views of the plains below, and of towns and mountains in the distance." This superb domain is reached by a railroad which the art of the constructor has made to climb the very face of the precipice by which the plateau is elevated above the plains beneath, thus l)riiigii]g the site of the university within easy access of all the dioceses united in its interest.

This important matter having been apparently settled, the trustees proceeded to make choice of a suitable name for the university. Three names were proposed: the University of the South, the Church University, and the University of Sewanee. There was something to be said for and against all these names; but the almost unanimous judgment of the trustees was that the fii'st was preferal)le to either of the others, and it was accordingly adopted. A committee was appointed to obtain from the State of Tennessee a charter, the provisions of which had been carefully considered, and then the laboring oar was put, as might have been expected, into the hands of Polk and Elliott by their appointment as commissioners to raise the money part of the endowment needed for the universit3\ The condition annexed to the grant of the Sewanee Company required that '' active operations on the buildings be begun in eighteen months," and the '^Declaration of Principles" adopted by the board at its first meeting had pledged them not to put the university into operation until the sum of at least five hundred thousand dollars should have been secured. There was every indication, however, that the required amount would be secured within a very short time. Bishop Polk had declared in his first letter to the southern bishops that he could pledge his own diocese for '* its full share of whatever means might be required,'' and the gi-ounds on which he had felt authorized to give this assurance had been strengthened by the voluntary promises of certain mimiflcent churchmen in Louisiana and elsewhere to endow professorships as soon as the university should be prepared to put its schools into operation. The commissioners had every reason to feel confident; but, with the best of hope, the task which they had undertaken Avas an arduous one. dcmnndiim' much self-sacrifice and

no little sacrifice from others dearer than themselves. "At this time," Mrs. Polk writes, " I felt as if I had lost m}' husband, and as if my cliildren had lost their father. On one occasion I remember saying, greatly to his amusement, ' I hate the university!' for, as I said, I was willing to give him up to his parish or his diocese, but tins seemed to be an outside thing, and I felt as if I were cheated out of my rights." So far as the university was concerned, nothing could be more auspicious than the aspect of its affairs at the adjournment of the meeting at Montgomery. It had acquired a magnificent domain ; it had received the strongest proofs of pubhc approbation ; it had practical assurances of munificent support; and it had secured the services of men of the highest rank and of the maturest wisdom.

The first step now to be taken was, of course, the obtaining of a charter from the State of Tennessee, which was signed by the Secretary of State on the 15tli of January, 1858, and granted to the corporation every power for which they applied.^ A committee, at the head of wliicli were Polk and Elliott, had been appointed to draft a constitution and code of statutes for the government of the university, and they made no light work of their task. They had already been collecting materials for it from the public and private libraries of the country, and through the assistance of the government at Washington they had obtained valuable contributions from abroad. They had before them the reports of Her Britannic Majesty's commissioners appointed to iuquu-e

1 It was specially provided in the charter that the university might be established either at Sewanee or at any other place in Tennessee that the trustees might select. This provision was inserted because of an unfounded rumor which had been spread abroad, but which was speedily and satisfactorily set at rest, that Sewanee was infested with a malarial disease called "milk-sickness."

into the state, discipline, studies, and revenues of the imiversities and colleges of Oxford and Cambridge, together with reports and calendars of Queen's University, Ireland, King's College, London, The London University, and of many schools of law, medicine, divinity, agriculture, art, and applied science. From France, also, and Germany, they had an immense number of educa.tional works and treatises of various kinds. These were all to be studied, and they were studied faithfully. At the same time a vast correspondence was kept up with distinguished educators, scholars, and men of scientific attainments from whom any assistance might be had in considering the best plans of organization. Thus the remainder of the year passed; and before its close every whisper of objection to Sewanee had been hushed into silence.

The appeal of the commissioners met with such immediate and gratifying success that when the board of trustees again met at Beersheba in the month of August, the following report of what had been accomplished was presented:

The commissionei's appointed to collect the endowment of the University of the South beg leave to report:

That they have given as much time as could be spared from their parishes and dioceses to the -work assigned them, and have met the heartiest response from that portion of the counti'y which they have been able to visit. The collections have been confined almost entirely to Louisiana, in consequence of having begun our work at New Orleans. The two or three months which we found it possible to give to this duty were fully occupied in the fiekl upon which we entered, nor did we by any means exhaust that. While the sum required for the commencement of operations coidd have been easily secured by skimming the surface of the associated dioceses, the large endowment we propose to raise required a

^t. 53] .1 PRINCELY DOMAIN. 'J27

careful and special canvassing of each particular diocese. To do this requires time. From the intelligent appreciation of our purposes and the general liberality which has met us everywhere, we feel authorized to say to the board that we consider the endowment of the university as secui'e beyond question.

The amount we have received in cash, bonds, and notes payable in available periods is $363,580. Besides this we have pledged from entirely reliable parties, to be fulfilled within a short period, about $115,000; but as these pledges have not yet been secured by bonds or notes, we have not included them in the amount reported.

All which is respectfully submitted.

Leonidas Polk. Stephen Elliott.

Beebsheba, August 12, 1859.

At the same meeting the treasurer reported that $2000 had been invested for the university in Alabama, without counting a sum of $20,000 given for the purpose of endowing a professorship of agriculture. At the same meeting, also, the committee on the survey of the lands of the university reported that the exact amount of land which had been conveyed to the trustees at Sewanee was 9525 acres. Thus, after a partial canvass of one diocese only, and within the space of less than three months, more than half a milhon dollars had been secured, and the university was the owner of a princely domain of nearly ten thousand acres of land. The few who had been inclined to regard Polk's project as visionary were effectually silenced by such an instant response to his appeal to the liberality of his fellow-churchmen and to the public spirit of his fellow-citizens. From this time forward till the fatal catastrophe of the war fell upon the country, no one doubted that he would realize in its entirety the grand project with which he

luid SO signally inspired the enthusiasm of the South, It was e\'ident to the board, however, that the prosecution of the work of raising the endowment required an amount of time and labor which must render it impossible for Bishop Polk and Bishop Elliott, both of whom were rectors of parishes as well as diocesan bishojis, to attend to their parochial duties, and a resolution was unanimously adopted requesting them to resign their parochial cures and accept an annual sum of money to replace the income derived from their salaries as rectors. The trustees adjourned at Beersheba to meet again in New Orleans in the month of February next following. How Bishop Polk was employed in the mean season will appear from the following letters:

To Bishop Elliott.

University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill,

September 20, 1859.

My dear Elliott: I am in receipt of your two letters to Raleigh, and I have to say that more exemplary punctuality or more trenchant promptitude could not have been exhibited, even if you had been a martinet in that particular form of vu'tue.

I am glad the books i have an-ived safely. It is a valuable cargo, and could not readily be replaced. I trust, too, that when we come to their examination we shall deal with them neither ia the spirit of ser\ile copyists, nor yet with that ridiculous modern conceit which affects superiority to the lessons of experience; but that, with an eye to the pecuUarities of our national and local circumstances and necessities, we will give to everything its appropriate value, take what meets our own case, and leave the rest alone.

I am here for several days, domesticated with my old friend and [college] room-mate, Governor Swain. I have had full

1 The books referred to here were those sent by the superintendents of public instruction of France and Prussia, and also from Oxford and Cambridge, England.

and extended conversation with liim on university matters generally, and have gotten out of him and other professors all they know that is likely to be of any value to us, and some valuable hints on a number of points among them. The Episcopal professors are all delighted with our plan and all very full of it. The others look upon it with great respect, but fear the effect, of course, on their institution. I have done what I could to allay those fears, and not without success. Swain, of course, like Thoruwell, thinks the State should do the work, but says that for our plan, quoad hoc, the Episcopal Church is the most compact and perfect thing that has ever been devised on this continent.

I am more than ever convinced of the importance, necessity, and surpassing power of our movement, and more than ever impressed with the weight of responsibility upon us who are charged with shaping its life. We have need to pray for wisdom and prudence and moderation and judgment as few men ever had. Yet the Lord knoweth our motives, and we trust will bear with us and help us.

I note what you say of your I'esignation. I dare say it is what you should have done. It is certain we shall have full occupation for some years to come.

But of all these things we shall talk more fully at convention. The course of the campaign for the winter you indicate, so far as I can see, is satisfactory.

I remain yours faithfully,

Leonidas Polk.

Washington, D, C, November 4, 1859.

My dear Elliott: I find it will be impossible for me to get to you so soon as I expected. I shall therefore appoint the 25tli of November as the day of meeting in Savannah. I shall notify others of the day.

I had a very interesting visit to Lexington. I got out of Colonel Smith and his associates some very useful hints. He has a noble institution, and is doing a good work for the State of Virginia and the whole South. He can, and will, be of great use to us.

I came here the day before yesterday, and since I have been hero I have been constantly employed in collecting useful matter in various departments. T have failed in the affair of the laudscape-g-ardenor. He would be perhaps the man we want, but his health forbids his coming to us, and we must look elsewhere.

I examined, with my friend Colonel Anderson of the army, the pubhc buildings going up under the care of my old friend Captain Bowman of the engineers, in the Treasvu-y Department, and have obtained a good many ideas in that line, and have established a connection for future use.

Yesterday I spent the day and dined with Professor Bache of the Coast Service, another of my West Point associates and friends. He invited Professor Hemy of the Smithsonian to join us, and we went very fully into educational matters, and discussed our plans very fully. They are both veiy deeply impressed with the importance of our work, and enter into its development with strong sympathy and generous offers of assistance.

Henry invited me over to the Smithsonian to-day. I went, and examined his work thoroughly. It is a very extended affair, and is accomplishing a great work for the increase and diffusion of knowledge. It is far in advance of anything I had conceived. Many of the best of his plans may be appropriated by us with advantage.

I leave in the morning for Philadelphia, and shall hope to meet my daughters the first of next month on their retm-n from Europe. I shall spend a few days with them in Philadelphia, then go to West Point, and, if I can, to Harvard for a day or so, thence to join you at Savannah.

I exceedingly regi-et that you could not be with me in this visit to the Point, and Harvard especially; and if I saw any way by which it could be done in time for our uses, before the preparation of our report at a later day, I would propose to have you aid in the work of inspection: but this I do not see.

With kind regards to Mrs. Elliott and the little ones.

Yours very truly, Leonidas Polk.

The board of trustees met in New Orleans on February 8,1860, and continued in session until the 13th, considering a draft of a proposed constitution and statutes for the university which had been prepared by a coni-ndttee consisting of Bishops Polk, Elliott, Rutledge, and [.ay, the Rev. Dr. Pise, and Messrs. Fairbanks of Florida, C'ooper of Georgia, and Fogg of Tennessee. After a careful revision the report of the committee was laid over for final consideration and adoption at a meeting to be held at Sewanee on the 9th of October following, at which time it was arranged that the cornerstone of the university should be laid with appropriate ceremonies. Pursuant to adjournment, the board reassembled at the appointed time, and remained in session for four days, during which the constitution and statutes were finally adopted, and the cornerstone was laid.

The constitution and statutes are given in an appendix.^ It is not necessary to discuss them at length. When it is remembered that, at that time, the idea of a university as a school of all learning, and not merely a college of the then existing American pattern, had hardly yet been imagined by the greater number of American educators, it will readily be perceived that the plan of the proposed University of the South anticipated the immense educational advance which has marked the progress of the past thirty years. It would be too much to say that it was perfect in detail; in some particulars it would certainly have required important modifications. Nevertheless, making the largest allowance for its defects, no one who is inthnately acquainted with the state of the higher education in this country at that time can fail to be impressed with the magnificence

1 See Appendix to Chapter VI.

«)f the project or the far-sighted wisdom of the educational system which it proposed.

As the work of organization progressed, Bishop Polk's heart was gladdened by finding in Bishop Hopkins a most encouraging and helpful friend. This was all the more gi"ateful to him, as coming from a man he greatly esteemed, and a bishop who held so commanding a position among northern churchmen. He induced liiin to spend some time at Sewanee, that Bishop Elliott and he might avail themselves of his suggestions and counsel. The following extracts from letters to Bishop Polk show how dee]>ly the Bishop of Vermont was impressed by the work. On March 26, 1860, he writes: '' The more I reflect upon it, the more I am convinced of the religious and moral grandeur of your plan." Again, on the 25th of July of the same year: " You, and your admirable colleague, Bishop Elliott, have a firm hold upon my strongest confidence, and my most cordial sj'mpathies. The Lord has raised you up for the noblest work in your day and generation, and it is my earnest hope and daily prayer that you may be guided by His unen-ing wisdom to the full attainment of your most sanguine anticipations."

Writing to Mrs. Polk under date of February 14, 1867, he said:

jMy own visit to the grounds intended for the great University of the South was the result of your dear husband's kind partiality. The grand enterprise itself was suggested by his mind, and his extraordinary influence and zeal had already secui'ed for it, within his own diocese, half a million of dollars. He brought with him to Sewanee at that time a large box entirely filled with the results of cori-espondence with the leading men in Europe, and the scholastic institutions of the Old World, as well as the laborious and thor-

ouglily digested projects for the southern university, which, when completed, was to be the noblest and best-endowed in Christendom. And as he unfolded the design, and gave me some idea of the vast amount of toilsome work accomplished by Bishop Elliott and himself in its preparation, I was amazed and dehghted at the combination of original genius, lofty enterprise, and Christian hope with the utmost degree of practical wisdom, cautious investigation, exquisite tact, and indefatigable energy, which far surpassed all that I could conceive within the bounds of human efficiency. In fact, I was almost carried away by my admiration of the grand conception; and if circumstances had rendered it possible I would have been willing to enlist my own moderate ability under his master mind to aid in its execution.

On the iiintli day of October, 1860, the cornerstone of the nniversity was laid \>\ Bishop Polk, with appropriate ceremonies, and in the presence of a concourse of several thousand spectators. Bishop Otey of Tennessee presided. The orator of the day v^as the Hon. Colonel John 8. Preston, of South Carolina. Toward the close of his address Colonel Preston pointed to the bishops on the platform, and said: "This movement we owe to the band of holy men wdio have devoted their gifts to an enterprise of Christian patriotism. I cannot praise them with fulsome eulogy, nor can 1 discriminate their several shares in this work; but you and they and the world will feel that I am not to blame if I turn to you, right reverend sir [addressing Bishop Polk], and say of you, as the Roman historian said of Alexander, ' He took courage to despise vain apprehensions;' and further, that whensoever it shall j)lease God, your Master, to stay your radiant right arm from his battlefields on earth, and call you to His everlasting triumphs, the heavens and your grateful country will read upon your tomb ' The Founder of the Universitv of the South.'" It was

recorded by the Rev. John Freeman Young, afterward Bishop of Florida, that this jnst and generous apostrophe moved the vast assembly to iinmense applause, not unmingled with tears. After a recess for refreshment, addresses were delivered by Commander Maury, of the United States Observatory at Washington ; by President Barnard, of the University of Mississippi, afterward president (^f Columbia College ; by Bishop Smith, of Ken-tuck}', afterward presiding bishop of the Church in the United States; and by the Hon. J. Bright, of Tennessee. Only the gathering shades of night compelled the vast audience to disperse, filled with the inspii-ation of a glorious purpose which was never to be realized dm'ing the life of any one of its original promoters.

In this imperfect outline of the organization of the university which Bishop Polk proposed to make the great work of his life, enough has l)een said to tell how the germ of his purpose grew out of his own experience and observations which he made at a very early period of his life; how it expanded and matm-ed in his mind for many years, till the propitious moment seemed to have come for its inception; how he then proposed to meet a want which all men felt, but which none before him had imagined could be met at all; how he infused the ardor of his own spirit and the gi^andeur of his own conception into the Church and people of his section; how he grappled with the difficulties which beset him in his work, and sliowed by actual demonstration that his scheme was as practicable as it was magnificent and beneficent; how lie organized the separate weakness of the southern dioceses into such united strength as to command the public confidence and approbation; how he secured to the university a domain of absolute magnificence; and liow he collected from a i)artial canvass of

iEt. 54] BE SERVED SUCCESS. L:35

one diocese only, the large sum of nearly half a million of dollars, thus assuring-, under any ordinary eireum-stances, the full endowment of three millions whieh he had at first declared to be necessary for the achievement of his plan. We have seen the pure sincei-ity aiid the noble simplicity which illustrated every step of his progress toward the end at which he aimed, the generous, courteous candor with which he disarmed opposition and conciliated sympathy, and the statesmanlike sagacity with which he was content to leave trivial faults to be corrected by general consent, when experience should demonstrate their inexpediency. None of these things is it needful to exaggerate or magnify. It is enough for this man that he should be known for what he was. Neither need we dwell on the misfortune of the failure of his plans. That, too, may be left to the hearts of all who can shed teai-s for great things lost and great men who have failed in them. The record of his deeds and purposes are his best eulogy. Of the failure of his plans — if they have indeed failed, which is by no means certain — it is enough to say,

'Tis not in mortals to command success;

but he did more, — he deserved it!

[A noble man physically and socially, with a mind of instinctive cooi'dination, and with every endowment to draw others to liim and interest them in what lie had in his heart, and with grace, and that undefinable power of holding others to his objects, Bishop Polk was undoubtedly the man who originated the notion of a union of dioceses in the foundation of the University of the South. And without at all deti'acting from his noble and gifted compeers, whose special services in this matter are properly inscril^ed in their individual memoirs, it is likewise true that to Bishop Polk's personal influence and genius for organization is duo the merit

of successfully inaii.o-urating the movement. His appeal to the planters of Louisiana and the other southern dioceses for indorsement in the premises and for funds was, in its promptness and consiunmation, like a brilliant military movement. As it were, in one campaign the success of the University of the South was assured. What special part Bishop Polk had in the wise suggestions as to the organization of the institution, the modesty and high breeding of the man leaves no recorded trace; but from the wise selection of commissioners to study the plans of the best universities, at home and abroad, as to composition and methods, from the character of their reports, and from the patient analysis which resulted in the statutes of this university, one seems to detect the mind of the great general, in which action follows only upon exhaustive observation.

But Bishop Polk and his colleagues, after having, as far as human foresight could do so, founded and endowed a imiversity great beyond the conception of anything that this country then had in the way of educational institutions, got only a glimpse of his vision of faith and splendid achievement. It was a glorious \^sion, that faded, however, in war, defeat, and death. There were two ghmpses of it. The first we can understand. The second is shrouded in mystery that will be disclosed only at the last day.

The first gUmpse of what must have been his "most beatific vision" as regards this university was in the faU of the year 1860, when he came with a goodly company of bishops and clergy of the Church '"to lay in Zion for a foundation stone, a tried stone, a precious cornerstone, a sure foundation " of the school that seemed, Minerva-hke, to have sprung fully equipped from the sea of ignorance, degradation, secularism, and materiahsm, that even in that day could be descried by the prophetic eyes of those men as the great danger to the best development of this land. We can all understand that that glimpse of the vision must have gladdened his heart as he saw^ around him on the mountain-top the largest and most distinguished gathering of people which has ever been collected at Scwance.

But no man can read the mystei-y of that glimpse of the vision that came to him three years later (18G3), when as general he passed with his army corps in retreat over this same mountain, obstinately contending' for the liberties of his people. With a broken heart, indeed, he must have passed down from the place of his loves and hopes, leaving it to the invader, who ground to pieces that cornerstone of the university which he had seen laid with so much enthusiasm and reverence only a few years before.

Bishop Polk's direct impress upon the University of the Soutli was, of course, before the late war. It was then that his most brilliant work was done for it; but by no means his most lasting work.

The war left the University of the South only its princely domain at Sewanee, its charter and statutes, and the notion of a real university. These latter were the true legacies left by the founders of this work; and so genuine are they, as pertaining to the need of this country for higher culture, so wise, and so far-reaching, that no room is left for amendment. They have been severely hammered by different boards of ti'ustees, but they retain their original form, and are ever reverted to with relief after tentative excursions from their secure bases.

Telfaiu Hodgson, Deui) tfthc, Thcjthxjn'dl Department.

At the close of the civil war in 1865, the Rt. Rev. Charles T. Quintard, Bishop of Tennessee, revisited the site of the University of the South. He found the domain a wilderness, the buildings in ashes, the veiy cornerstone in fragments. The splendid endowment which had been secm'ed by the personal efforts of Bishop Polk and Bishop Elliott had been swept away. There seemed to be no hope of reviving the institution. However, an organization was effected in 18G7 by the election of Bishop Quintard as Vice-Ghancellor and Major George R. Fairbanks as Commissioner of Buildings and Lands; and the same year a grammar-school was opened at Sewanee with nine pupils, and little by little a community was formed, buildings were erected, and the school placed upon a permanent basis.

In 1871 the academic department of the university was organized by the election of five professors. The theological department, with four professors, was opened in 1876; the medical department in 1892, and the law department in 1893. the heroic struggle of the university made it more and more widely known throughout the country, and drew together in its faculty men of fine learning and lofty aims, who fixed high its standard of scholarship, and left upon it the indelible impress of their own enthusiasm and faith. It is for this reason chiefly that the institution has held its own, without endowment, in the midst of so many well-equipped State universities that have come into existence since the war. It stands for a true ideal in education. The requirements for the ordinary academic degrees are perhaps higher than those of any other southern university, 'W'ith one possible exception; and the severest trials have never induced its professors to lower this standard for the sake of popularity. The moral and intellectual atmosphere. of the place is so pure and bracing, the relations between the professors and students are so frank and cordial, the enthusiasm is so unbounded, that these characteristics, along with its pecuhar and picturesque surroundings, give the University of the South a unique and attractive personality. At the last meeting of the Board of Trustees there were twenty-eight professors and somewhat over three hundred students repoi'ted on the roll. The theological deijartment, supported by the voluntary offerings of the southern dioceses, has already sent out moi-e than one hundred clergynKm, one of them a bishop of distinguished ability and influence, and all of them weU furnished and consecrated to their work. This school has been the recipient of several benefactions in the last few years for scholarships, etc., amounting to about $75,000. and it is hoped that a permanent endowment will soon be secured. The university has been enaVjled by generous friends from time to time to erect fine pennanent. builflmgs, viz: the Hodgson Library, given by the Rev. Dr. and Mr.s. Telfair Hodgson ; St. Luke's Theological Hall, given by Mrs. C M. Manigault ; the Convocation House,

largely the result of gifts from Mr. Wiley B. Miller and Mr. Thomas Breslin; the Thompson Medical Hall, named after the largest donor, Mr. Jacob Thompson; and the Walsh Memorial Hall, a magnificent Iniilding, containing all the offices and lecture-rooms of the academic department, given by Colonel V. D. Walsh. These buildings are all of Sewanee stone, and, without exception, beautiful and imposing in design. In 1S90 the Board of Trustees adopted a plan for the university buildings, consisting of two large quadrangles, a bold and striking application of principles suggested by the buildings of Magdalen College, Oxford. The group comprises the Convocation House and the Walsh Memorial Hall on the left, which have already been erected, and the Chapel, Cloisters, Gymnasium, and Commencement Hall in the center and on the right, for which funds are now being solicited.

It will be thus seen that the University of the South has had a severe struggle for existence. And yet the su.ccess achieved is almost without parallel for the same period. Instead of money it has had the faith and self-sacrifice of its officers, the love and enthusiasm of its students, and its history, so sad in many respects, so encouraging in others, has delivered the institution forever from commonplace and narrow aims, has inspired it with great ideals, and has broadened its vision because it has enriched its life.

Thomas F. Gailor,

Vice- Chancellor A

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VI.

CONSTITUTION OF THE UNIVERSITY OF THE SOUTH.

Article I,

This University shall be called The University of the South, and shall be in all its parts under the sole and perpet -ual direction of the Protestant Episcopal Chvirch, represented by a Board of Trustees.

Article II.

The Board of Trustees shall be composed of the bishops of North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, Tennessee, and the bishop exercising jurisdiction in Arkansas, e.r officio, and of one clergyman and two laymen from each of said dioceses, to be elected by the convention of the same: who shall hold their offices for the term of three years from the date of their election, or until their successors shall have been appointed. If there should be an assistant bishop in any of these dioceses, the diocese in which there is an assistant bishop may be represented by either its bishop or its assistant Ijisliop, but never both at the same time.

Nine of their number shall constitute a quorum for the transaction of business, provided each class of trustees — to wit, bishops, clergy, and laity — shall be represented by not less than two of their number. A vote by orders may be demanded, and then the joint r-onscnt of the bishops as one

order, and of the clerical and lay trustees as another order, shall be necessary for the adoption of any measure proposed. Vacancies occurring in the order of clerical and lay trustees shall be filled in such manner as shall be provided by the conventions of the respective dioceses.

Article III.

The Board of Trustees shall have the power from time to time to appoint, and for cause to remove, the Vice-Chancellor, the Professors, Assistant Professors, Lecturers, Fellows, and all officers, agents, and servants of the University, and shall have the entire management and supervision of the affairs, concerns, and property of the University.

The Board shall have power from time to time to make any statutes and regulations, not inconsistent with the Constitution or the laws of the land, or to alter or repeal the same, touching the government of the University, the appointment and removal, number and rank, powers and duties, stipends and emoluments, of the several persons employed therein, the terms and conditions upon which students shall be admitted, the course of instruction, the police and government, times of meeting of the Board of Trustees and other boards which may be hereafter pro^^ded for by statute.

The Board may erect all necessary buildings, and in genei'al shall have power touching all other matters whatsoever regarding the University and the interests thereof. And all statutes and regulations, when reduced to writing and made public, in such manner as shall be provided by statute, shall be binding upon all persons members of the University or anywise subject to its government.

The University shall have a common seal, and the Board of Trustees shall have power to use the same for the affairs and concerns thereof, and to direct and manage such affairs and concerns, and to receive, issue, invest, lay out, and dispose of all stocks, effects, funds, moneys, and securities, and to contract for and purchase messuages, lands, tenements, and hereditaments, and goods and chattels, for the use of the University, and to sell, demise, alien, lease, or otherwise dispose of

any property whatsoever, real or personal, belonging thereto, in any manner not repugnant to the pro\'isions of this Constitution.

The Chancellor for the time being, or in case of his absence the bishop next in order of consecration, sliall be President of the Board of Trustees.

All questions shall be decided by the majority of members present, except when a vote by orders shall be called for.

The Board shall have full power to estabhsh literary and scientific departments, and those of theology, law, and medical science, and such other departments as they may see proper, and to confer upon students, or any other person, the degree of Bachelor of Arts, Master of Arts, or any degree known and used in any college or university. They shall have power also to appoint persons to fellowships, according to such regulations as they may prescribe.

Article IV.

The Senior Bishop (by consecration) of the dioceses aforesaid shall be the Chancellor of the University. He shall not be required to reside at the University.

Article V.

There shall be appointed by the Board of Tmstees a Vice-Chaneellor, who shall be the administrative head of the University. He shall preside over all meetings of the Hebdomadal Board, and perform such other duties as may be prescribed by the Board of Trustees, and shall hold his office during good behavior, and shall be required to reside at the University.

Article VI.

The Board of Trustees shall appoint a Secretary, to hold his office for the tenn of three years, or until his successor shall be appointed.

Article VII.

There shall bo a Treasurer of the University, who shall be appointed by the Board of Tnistecs, and sliall hold his

office for the term of three years, and continue in office until his successor is appointed and shall have given bond. Such Treasurer shall receive the interest money derived from the securities held by the Diocesan Treasurers, and all moneys paid in for tuition, fees, lectures, tickets, fines, etc., and any funds which may inure to the University otherwise, and expend the same imder the direction of the Board of Trustees. He shall perform such other duties as may be required of him by the Board of Trustees, and receive such compensation for his services as they may prescribe. He shall give such bond and security as may be required by the Board. He shall report annually to the Chairman of the Finance Committee the state of the finances and property of the University, and shall be requh-ed to reside at the University. He shall keep the funds of the University and all other funds deposited with him, under such regulations as shall be made by the Board of Trustees.

Article VIII.

There shall be appointed by the Board of Trustees an Auditor, whose duty it shall be to examine and audit all accounts connected with the business of the University, and perform such other duties as may be prescribed by the Board. He shaU reside at the University, and hold his office for the term of three years, and receive such compensation as the Board of Trustees shaU prescribe.

Article IX.

There shall be appointed by the Board of Trustees a Comptroller, whose duty it shall be to examine the accounts of the Treasurer, to make a final adjustment of all accounts connected with the business of the University, and perform such other duties as shall be devolved upon him by the Board of Trustees. He shall receive si;eh compensation as they shall prescribe, shall be required to reside at the University, and shall hold his office for the term of three years.

Article X.

There shall be elected a Committee on Finance, to serve for tlu-ee years, composed of one clerical and two lay trustees, Avho shall prepare from the reports submitted by the General and Diocesan Treasurers, and report to the Board of Trustees at their annual meetings, a full statement of the University funds, its outstanding obligations, and the amounts required to carry on its operations for the coming year: and to enable such Committee to be prepared to submit their report at the opening of such annual meeting of the Board, it shall be the duty of the General Treasurer and of the Diocesan Treasurers to prepare and bring forward their reports to the Chairman of said Finance Committee at University Place, at least ten days before the annual meeting.

Article XI,

There shall be appointed by the Board of Trustees a-Commissioner of Buildings and Lands, who shall have the general superintendence of the buildings and lands, and shall be under the supervision of the Vice-Chaneellor, and perform such duties as shall be prescribed by the Board of Tnistees. He shall hold his office for the term of three years, shall receive such compensation as the Board of Trustees shall prescribe, and shall have his residence at the University.

Article XII.

There shall be appointed by the Board of Trustees a Registrar of the University, who shall be the Secretary of the Hebdomadal Board, and perform such other duties as may be required of him by the Board of Trustees. He shall hold his olnce for the term of three years, shall reside at the University, and shall receive such compensation as may be prescribed by the Board of Trustees.

Article XIII,

The Board of Trustees shall liave power to appoint, from time to time, such officers, for the discipline of the students,

for municipal si:overnnient, and for the regulation of all persons residing- upon the domain of the Univei'sity, as they may think necessary.

Article XIV.

Meetings of the Board of Trustees shall be held annually, at such time as they may appoint by statute. Extraordinary meetings may be held upon the caU of any five members of the Board, or upon the request of the Hebdomadal Board; such meetings to be called by the Chancellor. The Board may, by statute, provide for the payment of necessary expenses incurred by the Trustees in attendance upon such meetings.

Article XV.

The fimds subscribed to the University shall all be considered as capital, to be preserved untouched for any purpose connected with the organization or management of the University ; provided, that donations and legacies may be received for such objects as the donors may indicate; and provided, moreover, that it be distinctly understood that the funds subscribed in any diocese are the property of the University, and not of the diocese, and that the conventions of the various dioceses shall have no control of the same.

The amount subscribed in any diocese as capital shall, in the event of the dissolution of the corporation, be returned to the donors or their legal representatives; and in case of there being no legal representatives, then it shall revert to the diocese in which it was subscribed. If the capital subscribed in any diocese shall be diminished by a failure of securities, or otherwise, the remaining capital in such diocese shall then be distributed, pro rata, among the donors or their representatives.

No diocese shall be bound to furnish any particular sum of money, but the contributions made therein shall be voluntary, according to the pleasure and ability of the contributors.

Article XVI.

There shall be a Treasurer of University Funds appointed in each diocese by the convention of the same, who, when

confirmed by the Board of Trustees, shall hold his office for three years from the time of his election, and continue in office until his successor shall have been elected and given bond. Such Treasurer shall give bond and secm-ity to the University of the South in such sum as shall be required by the Board of Trustees from time to time. Such Treasurer shall receive the cash, notes, bonds, stocks, titles to lauds or other property obtained as subscription in that diocese; and it shall be his duty, in conjunction with the lay trustees of the diocese, to invest the cash, and aU moneys which shall be derived from the reahzation of the above-mentioned private securities, in the best public seciu-ities or other safe investments, paying over to the Treasurer of the University the interest of the amount subscribed, in such manner as shall be prescribed by the Board of Trustees; and his aecoimts shall be rendered to the Board of Trustees at their anniial session. The Board of Trustees shall prescribe rules and regulations for the management, safe keeping, and ti-ansmission of the firnds in the hands of the Diocesan Treasurers, and shall fix their compensation.

In case of a vacancy in the office of Treasurer, either of the University or of a Diocese, the Board of Trustees shall be authorized to provide, by statute, a mode of fiUing such vacancy until a regular election.

Article XVII.

In case of subdi\asion of any of the existing dioceses connected with the University, each diocese arising out of such subdivision shall be entitled to the same number of trustees as the respective dioceses are now entitled to, and be subject to the same provisions and regulations.

Article XVIII.

It shall be competent for the Board of Trustees to admit other dioceses into connection with the University of the South; pi'ovided that each diocese shall be subject to such conditions as naay be required by this Board at the time of

their admission; and in case of the reception into this Board of any such diocese, it shall be entitled to the same number of trustees as the respective dioceses are now entitled to, and be subject to the same rules and regulations.

Article XIX.

No amendment shall be made to this Constitution unless it shall have been passed at two successive meeting-s, by a majority of the Board of Tioistees; provided that majority be a quorum.

STATUTES OF THE UNIVERSITY OF THE SOUTH.

I. CHANCELLOR.

The Senior Bishop (by consecration) of the dioceses uniting for the foundation of the University, shall always fill the office of Chancellor. He shall not be required to reside at the University.

II. VICE-CHANCELLOR.

Section 1. The Vice-Chancellor shall be elected by the Board of Ti'ustees. He shall be the resident head of the University. He shall have control over aU its departments, and shall be exclusively an administrative officer. He shall be furnished with a house, and be paid a salary of $6000 per annum, and shall hold his office during good behavior.

Sec. 2. In the government of the University he shall be assisted by a Hebdomadal Board, to be composed of such Professors as shall be hereafter named.

Sec. 3. He shall have the sole power of granting leave of absence to Professors, Fellows, other officers, and students of the University. He shall have power at all times to visit any hall, lect\ire-room, office, student's room, or public apartment of the University.

Sec. 4. Wlienever it shall come to his knowledcfe that any Professor has been negligent of his duties, or has shown a want of zeal in imparting instruction to his school, or in l)roinoting the interests of the University, he shall advise and remonstrate with such Professor of the University. And should any such Professor, or other officer of the University, be inattentive to the advice or remonstrance of the Vice-Chaneellor, the Vice-Chancellor shall, after giving such Professor or other officer notice of his intention, and furnishing him with a copy of the official statement he proposes to make of the case, call the attention of the Board of Trustees to the conduct of such Professor or officer.

Sec. 5. The Vice-Chancellor shall have power to license boarding-houses for the students, and to exercise a full supervision of them through the Proctors, for the purpose of ascertaining whether the regulations made for their order and discipline have been complied with.

Sec. 6. The Vice-Chancellor shall cause to be prepared by the Registrar monthly reports of the conduct and scholarship of every student, which he shall transmit to the parents or guardians of such students.

Sec. 7. It shall be his duty to make a report to the Board of Trustees, at their annual session, on the general condition of the University during the past year, and to suggest for their consideration such alterations and improvements on aay subject as shall have been ap])roved by the Hebdomadal Board. He shall also present for the examination of the Board, at its annual session, a digest of the weekly reports of the Professors of the conduct and scholarship of the students of their respective schools, and shall super\dse the preparation of the annual calendar.

Sec. 8. The Vice-Chancellor, in case of absence or of incapacity frojn illness or any other temporary cause to discharge his duties, shall have the power of appointing as his substitute any one of the Professors. But should he fail to appoint a substitute, or resign, or die, then the office shall be filled by the Hebdomadal Board, from among the heads of schools; and such person, so ap|)i>inted, shall exercise the func-

tions of the office until the removal of the disability, oi* until the Board of Trustees shall have appointed a successor, and he shall have signified his acceptance and entered on the duties of his office.

III. PROFESSORS.

Section 1. The plan of education in the University shall be by separate schools for each branch of knowledge. Each school shall be complete in itself, independent of all others, and devoted to imparting instruction in everything belonging to its department.

Sec. 2. At the head of each school, excepting those of theology, law, and medicine, there shall be a Professor, to be elected by the Board of Trustees. It shall be his duty to regulate the studies of his school, for the character and success of which he shall be held especially responsible ; he shall engage personally in instruction, by lectures, lessons, and written exercises, as he may deem best. Frequent interrogation of a searching character shall be, however, absolutely required.

Sec. 3. Each school shall be divided into sections of as many students as may be conveniently or efficiently instructed, and no moi'e. The classing of students into sections shall be regulated by their attainments, to be determined by examination on then- application for admission. But they may be transferred from section to section, up or down, according to the degi'ee of proficiency they shall from time to time exliibit.

Sec. 4. In the instruction of these sections the Professor shall be aided by as many Assistant Professors as may be necessary, who shall be under his direction and control, and shall aid him in the instruction and government of the students of his school, while in their sections or lecture-rooms.

Sec. 5. Each Professor shall be provided with a house, and paid an annual salary of $3000, by the University. This amount may be increased by each Professor from his school tickets, to a sum not exceeding $5000 annually. His teniu*e of office shall be for five years, but he may be reelected at the pleasure of the Board of Trustees.

Sec. G. The Assistant Professors shall be appointed by the Board of Trustees, upon a certificate of the Examiners of the University that they have been rigidly examined and are competent for theu" office. They shall receive such lodging and salaries as the Board of Trustees shall provide, shall be appointed for the term of five years, and shall be reeligilile, but not without the recommendation of the Vice-Chancellor and the heads of their respective schools. The Assistant Professors may be removed by the Vice-Chancellor, upon the representation of the Professors of their schools, for cause shown. The reasons of such removal shall be reported to the Board of Trustees at their annual meeting next ensuing.

Sec. 7. Each Professor and Assistant Professor shall keep a daily record of the value of each recitation of eveiy member of his section, according to a scale to l)e determined by the Board of Trustees, and shall note all cases of absence or-of misconduct in section. These records shall be handed weekly to the Vice-Chancellor, who shall have them digested, and cause the names of the five most distinguished students in each section of every school to be published on a bulletin-board, to be fixed in some conspicuous place in the University.

Sec. 8. All transfers of students fr-om section to section shall be made by the Professors (aided by their Assistant Professors), who shall be responsible for determini n g the relative numerical rank of the students of their schools in the annual calendar. All lectures by the Professors, especially those requiring experimental illustration, shall, in general, be common to the several sections of the respective schools.

IV. EXAMINERS.

Section 1. There shall be appointed by the Hebdomadal Board, Committees of Examiners, who shall conduct the examinations of all applicants for admission to the University; also of all the school at the annual or other pubhc examinations; of the candidates for the degrees of the University, and its Fellowships; and also all applicants for the office of Assistant Professor.

Sec. 2. All Professors, whether heads of schools or Assistants, shall serve as Examiners whenever appointed by the Hebdomadal Board.

V. LECTURERS.

Besides the Professors and Assistant Professors of the several schools, there shall be chosen by the Board of Trustees, Lecturers, who shall be invited to lecture before the University upon special topics in any particular school. These Lecturers shall have no part in the government of the University, and shall not be required to be resident, but shall repair to the University, at certain seasons, and lecture for a limited period. Their compensation shaU be regulated by the Board of Trustees.

VI. SCHOOLS.

The following shall be the schools founded by the University, so soon as the means at its command shall be sufficient for that purpose. The grouping of the topics shaU be varied at the pleasui-e of the Board of Trustees.

The number of schools shall be increased as expediency and the progress of letters, science, and art shall suggest.

1. School of Greek Language and Literature.

2. School of Latin Language and Literature.

3. School of Mathematics.

4. School of Physics.

5. School of Metaphysics.

0. School of History and Archaeology.

7. School of Natural Sciences, with cabinets and garden of plants attached.

8. School of Geology, Mineralogy, and Paleontology.

9. School of Civil Engineering, Construction, Architecture, and Drawing.

10. School of Theoretical and Experimental Chemistr,y.

11. School of Chemistry applied to Agriculture and the Arts.

12. School of the Theory and Practice of Agi-icultui-e, with farm attached.

13. School of ]\Ioral Science and the Evidences of the Christian ReUgion.

14. School of English Language and Literature.

15. School of French Language and Literature.

16. School of German Language and Literature.

17. School of Spanish Language and Literature.

18. School of Italian Language and Literature.

19. School of Oriental Language and Literature.

20. School of the Philosophy of Language.

21. School of the Philosophy of Education.

22. School of Rhetoric, Criticism, Elocution, and Composition.

23. School of American History and Antiquities.

24. School of Ethnology and Universal Geography,

25. School of Astronomy (with observatory) and Physical Geography.

26. School of Political Science, Pohtical Economy, Statistics, Law of Nations, Spirit of Laws, General Principles of Government, and Constitution of the United States.

27. School of Commerce and Trade, including the History and Laws of Banking, Exchange, Insiu-ance, Brokerage, and Book-keeping.

28. School of Theology.

29. School of Law.

30. School of Medicuie.

31. School of INIiues and Mining.

32. School of Fine Arts, including Sacred Music.

The organization of the Schools of Theology, Law, Medicine, and of Practical Agriculture, shall be determined by the Board of Trustees at the time of their estabUshment.

VIL HEBDOMADAL BOARD.

Section 1. There shall be a Board to be called the Hebdomadal Board, whose office shall be to act as a council of advice to the Vice-Chancellor in the government of the University, and of \shicli the Vice-Chancellor shall be President.

Sec. 2. This Board shall be composed of not more than twelve members.

Sec. 3. So long as the Professors of the University shall not exceed twelve in number, they shall all be members of the Hebdomadal Board. When such number shall exceed twelve, then the Board of Trustees shall fill vacancies by election from among said Professors.

Sec. 4. By this Board all questions of discipline in the University shall be adjudged according to the laws and ordinances of the Universit3%

Sec. 5. It shall have the power to appoint examiners of the Assistant Professors and students of any or all the schools.

Sec. 6. It shall meet weekly, but may be called together at any time by the Vice-Chancellor, when he shall think it necessary. This board shall have power to originate and discuss any proposition necessary for the good government, academical proficiency, repute, and common weal of the University, which it may think expedient to lay before the Board of Trustees.

Sec. 7. "When engaged in the discussion of such propositions, the heads of all the schools shall be summoned to attend, and shall be entitled to engage in the discussion, and to vote upon the adoption and rejection of such propositions. A majority of those entitled to vote shall be necessary for the adoption of any proposition, and in case of a tie the Vice-Chancellor shall have the casting vote.

VIII. MATRICULATION.

Section 1. No student shall matriculate at the University until he shall have attained such age as may hereafter be prescribed l)y statute; nor unless he shall agree to enter at least three schools of the University, one of which shall in all cases be the School of Moral Science and the Evidences of the Christian Religion. But for special cause shown, the Vice-Chancellor may permit the student to take one school only beside that of Moral Science. A student may matriculate at any period of the year, upon examination in the school "which he proposes to enter, and shall take his place in su.ch section of the school as his proficiency shall indicate.

Sec. 2. Every student, when he matriculates, shall be furnished with a copy of the statutes, and shall signify his intcn-

tion to conform to the rides and reguLations of the University, and his desire to avail himself of the advantages thereof, by subscribing the form following:

" Wo, the undersigned, admitted members of the University of the South, do hereby acknowledge ourselves subject to its authority and discipline, and declare our earnest desire faithfully to avail ourselves of its advantages."

He shall also sign his name in a book, to be kept for the pTirpose by the Proctor, in which shall be recorded the name and residence of his parent or guardian, and shall pay to the Proctor a matriculation fee of $10.

IX. HONORS OF THE UNIVERSITY.

Section 1. A Calendar of the University shall be pubhshed at the end of each academical year, which shall designate the rank of every student in each of his schools. Said rank shall 1)6 compounded of general good conduct, scholarship, and examinations. A copy of this Calendar shall be sent by mail to the parent or guardian of every student of the University. A star, as a mark of distinguished merit, shall be prefixed to the names of the first five in each of the schools of the University.

Sec. 2. A diploma of graduation in any school may be given at the end of each term to each student who shall have attained a certain standard, to be determined by examiners appointed by the Hebdomadal Board ; but no diploma shall in any case be conferred until the candidate shall have passed such examination in the English Language as may be appointed by the Hebdomadal Board.

Sec. 3. The degree of A.B. may be conferred on such individuals as shall have passed the examination necessary for graduation in the schools following :

1. ]\Ioral Science and Evidences of Chi-istianity. II. Greek Language and Literature.

III. Latin Language and Literature.

IV. Mathematics. V. Physics.

VI. English Language and Literature.

Sec. 4. The degree of A.M. may be eouferred on such individuals as shall have passed the requisite examination for graduation in the schools above mentioned, together with the following:

I. Metaphysics.

II. Theoretical and Experimental Chemistry.

III. PoUtical Science.

IV. Rhetoric, Criticism, Elocution, and Composition. V. French Language and Literature.

VI. The German, Spanish, or Italian Language and Literature, as the student may elect.

Moreover, he must be able to speak the French Language with accuracy.

Sec. 5. Fellowships in the University may be conferred by the Board of Trustees on such Masters of Arts as have excelled in any one of the following schools, to wit: of Greek Language and Literature, English Language and Literature, Physics, Mathematics, Metaphysics, Chemistry, or Natural Sciences.

Three Fellows may be elected every year, each of whom shall have the use of a suite of rooms free of rent, and $500 per annum. The tenure of a Fellowship shall be for five years. If a FeUow be elected to a Professorship or Assistant Professorship, he shall vacate his Fellowship. Every Fellow shall reside in the University, and may take pupils for private instruction, they being matriculants of the University, and receive fees for sucli tuition at a rate to be fixed by the Vice-Chancellor and the Hebdomadal Board.

Sec. 6. The degrees appropriate to the Professional Schools of Theology, Law, and Medicine, shall be conferred for attainments and distinctions, to be determined by the Professors of these schools severally.

Sec. 7. The degrees of A.B. and A.M. shall bo awarded by the Hebdomadal Board, when approved by the Board of Ti-ustees. All honorary degrees shaU be conferred by the Boax'd of Trustees alone.

X. CHAPLAIN.

Section 1. There shall be a Chaplain to the University, appointed by the Board of Trustees, who shall fix his salary, and he shall hold his office dui'ing the pleasure of the Board. He shall read, every day, the Morning and Evening Prayer of the Church in the chapel of the University, shall hold the usual public services on Sunday, and shall have a general pastoral oversight of the officers and students of the University.

Sec. 2. It shall be the duty of the Assistant Professors, Fellows, and Students to attend morning and evening prayers; and it shall be the duty of the students and all the officers to attend the morning services on Sunday, and upon the greater festivals of the Church.

XI. LIBRARIAN.

There shall be a Librarian appointed by the Board of Trustees who shall hold his office for the term of five years, and who shall be paid such salary and perform such duties as the Board of Trustees shall prescribe.

XII. CURATORS OF CABINETS.

The Curators of Cabinets, the Museum, etc., shall be appointed by the Vice-Chancellor.

XIII. PROCTOR.

Section 1. The general duties of police shall be performed by a Proctor, to be appointed by the Board of Trustees. He shall be aided by as many assistants as may be necessary', who shall be appointed by the Vice-Chancellor.

Sec. 2. It shall be the especial duty of the Proctor to exercise a constant and careful surveillance over the conduct of the students, and to report to the Vice-Chancellor all cases of infraction by them of the regulations of the Univei'sity.

Sec. 3. It shall also lie his duty to visit, at least once a

week, all boarding-houses licensed by the Viee-Chancellor, and to examine into the good order, comfort, and cleanliness of the rooms and offices of the students. He shall, make a report to the Vice-Chaneellor at least once a week. He shall account to the Treasurer of the University for all matriculation fees he may have received.

XIV. REGISTRAR.

The Registrar, appointed by the Board of Trustees, shall be under the direction and supervision of the Vice-ChanceUor. He shall attend daily in his office throughout the University term at such hours as the Vice-Chancellor shall prescribe, and shall be in readiness at all times to attend the meetings of the Hebdomadal Board, for the purpose of recording its proceedings. He shall keep a Hst of the hcensed boarding-houses, also a list of the names and residences of the students, arranged according to their respective schools, and shall furnish each Professor with a list of the students in his department. He shall prepare and issue, under the direction of the Vice-Chancellor, notices for the meeting of the Hebdomadal Board, and for other University purposes. He shall digest the weekly reports of the Professors and Assistant Professors, and shall, under the direction of the Vice-Chancellor, prepare the annual Calendar. He shall, under the same direction, prepare programmes of all meetings and examinations, and conduct the correspondence of the University. He shall keep a record of all transactions of the University; and, when required by the Vice-Chancellor, shall prepare the official documents, shall preserve copies thereof, and shall make copies of all other documents which may be required.

XV. TREASURER.

The Ti'easurer of the University shall receive all funds from Diocesan Treasurers and from the Proctor, and shall collect such rents due the University as may l)e returned to him bv the Commissioner of Buildings and Lands. He shall

make a full report of the operations and condition of his department annually, or oftener if required.

XVI. AUDITOR.

The Auditor shall examine and audit all accounts of every description against the University. He shall critically examine and report to the Comptroller the amount properly payable upon every account presented to him. He shall classify all accounts under the different heads of expenditure, and keep a register of the nature and amount of each account, which shall correspond with the number of such account. He shall countersign all warrants drawn upon the Treasurer, and shall keep a register of all such warrants as he may have countersigned.

XVII. COMPTROLLER.

Section 1. The Comptroller shall reexamine all accounts reported to him by the Auditor. He shall, if he approve the same, enter his allowance thereon, and di-aw his waiTaut on the Treasurer for the amount of the same, in favor of the individual to whom it may be payable. He shall carefully register all accounts and preserve the originals and vouchers for future reference. He may draw a wan-ant upon the Treasui-er in favor of the Commissioner of Buildings and Lands, upon a requisition presented to him, approved by the Viee-Chancellor, which waiTant shall be charged to the account of such Commissioner; provided that such payments have been authorized by the Board of Trustees.

Sec. 2. The Comptroller shall annually report to the Committee on Finance, ten days before the annual meeting of the Board of Trustees, a full statement of all the accounts allowed and passed by him, properly classified under their respective heads of expenditure. He shall also, at the same time, report estimates of what amounts will be requisite for the expenditures of the University during the ensuing year, and the Board of Trustees only shall have the power to make appropriations to meet such expenditures.

XVIII. COMMISSIONER OF BUILDINGS AND LANDS.

Section 1. The Commissioner of Buildings and Lands shall have the supervision of all rejDairs ordinarily required for the buildings and grounds, under the direction of a Board of Control, to be composed of the Vice-Chancellor, the Treasurer, and the Comptroller. To this Board he shall submit all plans and estimates for the repair and improvement of buildings from time to time, and upon their approval he shall be authorized to have the same executed, and not otherwise. The general control of the erection of buildings and making improvements shall be reserved, however, to such Committee as shall be designated by the Board of Trustees.

Sec. 2. The Commissioner of Buildings and Lands shall have the leasing of the tenements and grounds of the University, under such regulations as may be prescribed in reference thereto by the Board of Trustees; and it shall be his duty to prevent trespasses and intrusions on the property of the University, real and personal, and to recover its possession from any person who shall improperly withhold the same. To this end he is required to be vigilant in obsei'ving all trespasses and intrusions, and prompt in reporting them to the Vice-Chancellor, in laying them before the civil authority, and communicating to the proper law-officer, when required by the Vice-Chancellor, such information as he may at any time have, and as may be calculated to prevent or pimish breaches of the peace, trespasses, or misdemeanors within the precincts of the University, and instantly to repel from the precincts all idle or suspicious intruders who may be found lurking within them without ostensible business.

Sec. 3. He shall cause all the groimds and tenements of the University to be kept in complete order and neatness, and shall have authority to abate all nuisances on the University domain.

XIX. BOARDING AND LODGING HOUSES.

Section 1. All students shall be required to board and lodge in such liouses as shall be provided or licensed for lh:it

L'OO APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VI.

pui'pose by the University, except in cases where they may have parents, guardians, or relatives residing on the domain of the University.

Sec. 2. The number of students occup>-ing any one house shall not exceed twelve. Rates of board shall be regulated from time to time by the Vice-Chancellor and the Hebdomadal Board.

Sec. 3. An amount sufficient to cover the expense of a student's board and lodging for three months shall, in all cases, be required to be deposited with the Treasurer of the University, who shall, upon the order of the student, pay such boarding-house keeper, monthly, in advance.

Sec. 4. No person shall be permitted to keep a boarding-house at the University until a hcense shall have been obtained from the Vice-Chancellor, which license shall be renewed annually. All such licenses may be revoked for cause at any time.

Sec. 5. The keepers of all Ucensed boarding-houses shall be held responsible for the preservation of good order in their respective houses.

Sec. 6. The licenses obtained by boarding-house keepers shall be posted in some conspicuous place within the house, for the inspection of all persons.

XX. GYMNASIUM.

The Hebdomadal Board shall have power to establish a gjTnnasium for athletic exercises, and any other school of a useful and refining influence, and to appoint the officers thereof.

XXI. OFFENSES.

Section 1. Offenses against the statutes of the University shall be punished in such manner as shall hereafter be prescribed by the Board of Trustees.

Sec. 2. Offenses against the laws of the land shall be left to the cognizance of the civil magistrate, if claimed by him, or may be subjected by the Hebdomadal Board to any of the

punislimeuts permitted by the statutes, whether the civil magistrate has taken cognizance of them or not.

XXII. ANNUAL MEETING OF THE BOARD OF

TRUSTEES.

There shall be an annual meeting of the Board of Trustees at the site of the University, on the second Monday in July in each and every year.

XXIII. LIABILITY FOR SALARIES.

In case of the removal of any officer of the University by the Board of Trustees before the termination of his prescribed tenure of office, he shall have no claim whatever for the proportion of salary appertaining to the unexpired term of such tenure.

CHAPTER VII.

DIOCESE OF LOUISIANA AND THE CONFEDERATE STATES. 1800 TO 1801.

A ferment of political excitement. — Letter to President Buchanan. — Pastoral letters. — Forms of prayer. — Secession of Louisiana. — Correspondence with Bishop Potter. — Position of the Church. — Diocesan work. — Incendiary outrage. — Burning the bishop's house. — Church convention at St. Francisville. — The Church and secession. — Address to the convention. — Report of the committee on the state of the Church.

During the last year of Bishop Polk's work for the university, the South was in a ferment of political excitement. The presidential election of 1860 surpassed all previous elections in the magnitude of the interests involved, in the energy with which it was prosecuted, and in the anxiety Avitli which the issue of the contest was expected. Throughout the turmoil of that anxious time Bishop Polk, when lie was not occupied in his episcopal \isitatious, was f[uietly engaged in studying the statutes, in consulting with architects and engineers, in ])ersonally supervising the preparation of the domain at St'wauee, in meetings of the trustees, in convspondence witii eminent educators, and finally, on the very eve of election, in laying the cornerstone of the first permanent Ituildiug of the university. Nothing could more effectually disprove the assertion that he Mas one of those who were said to be plotting for a dissolution of the Union than the simple record of his occupations during

the full year wliit-li preceded the eleelion of 18G0. No man of common reason could have applied himself with such unremitting' patience and such unwearying energy to a work which revolution must disturb and perhaps destroy, if he had been, at the same time, plotting or even expecting revolution.

The questions before a man in the position of Bishop Polk were these: Whether the unconditional secession of the Southern States was really an imminent event, and whether they would maintain their right of secession by force of arms in case of such necessity. The facts around him left no room for doubt on either of these questions. Within a very short time after the election no man who knew the southern people as he knew them could mistake the signs of the times. The only thing to be determined was whether the States lately united, and still in form united, were to be arrayed against each other in an internecine war. He feared that an erroneous judgment, founded on misinformation, might induce the Federal administration to take certain steps which would precipitate a conflict. He knew that he had exceptionally adequate opportunities for ascertaining the temper and purpose of the people of his section, and that any statement of them which he might make would be entitled to receive, and would receive, the most serious attention. Accordingly, he addressed the following letter to the President of the United States:

New Orleans, December 26,1860. To His Excellency, James Buchanan, President, etc. :

At a time like this it is the duty of every citizen to aid iu clearing away the difficulties by which Ave are surrounded, and to prevent, if possible, further complications. It is under a sense of duty that I take the liberty of addressing you. Of your integrity of purpose or patriotic devotion to what you

regard as the true interests of the country, I have not a doubt, nor have I any doubt of your firmness of intention to discharge your duty as a man in public office in the existing emergency; yet I liave not been without fear that the want of accurate and I'eHable information as to the true state of feeling and determination of the southern States might cause you to interpret yoiu' obligations to your oath of office differently from what you would if you were in full possession of the facts as they are. Doubtless you are required to enforce the laws ; but assuredly no sane man will say " without regard to consequences." That Avould be madness. A right to exercise a sound discretion necessarily accompanied the imposition and the acceptance of the oath of office. Such must be the judgment of our Christian ci\'ilization. And to assume the responsibility of exercising that right when such issues as those with which you are called to deal are impending, as it is the most trjong ordeal to which any chief magistrate of our repubhe has ever been subjected, involves the highest exercise of coiu'ageous independence and the most discriminating and considerate regai-d to the duties of your own position and the best interests of those whose destinies are in your hands.

My position and opportunities give me the amplest facilities for knowing the actual state of mind of the people of Louisiana and of the sun*ounding southern States, and I write to say that I am thoroughly convinced that they have deUberately and inflexibly resolved to cut themselves off from the Union. This feehng is deepening and widening eveiy day, and no difference exists except as to the mode of effecting it. To attempt to prevent it by force of arms would instantlj' extinguish that difference and unite the whole population as one man. State boundaries would be forgotten in a sense of common danger; the cause of one would become the cause of all; a conflict would be inaugurated to end only after the most i-uthless carnage had desolated the land, and freedom perhaps had been extinguished under the trial of a militarj' despotism. Such an issue the people of the South would gladly decline. It is with you, dear sir, mainly to say whether it shall be forced upon them. But whatever the determination of the national

Executive may be, they have resolved to accept that determination, to plant themselves on what they hold to be their rights, and to resist all efforts to infringe them, come from whence they may. We believe it is practicable for the two parties to separate peacefully ; this we most earnestly desire. The difficulty of your position we fully appreciate, and every effort will be made to disembarrass it as much as possible. We cannot see that, with the views you have expressed and the course you have already pursued, any issue ought to arise which could not be peaceably disposed of, and we trust that the spirit of moderation which has thus far characterized your policy in the existing emei'gency may be continued until our difficulties have been finally and amicably terminated.

I have not a doubt that Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana will all have followed the example of South Carolina, and will be out of the Union b,y the 1st of February; that they will have formed a separate government by the 1st of INIarch ; and that the other southern States will sooner or later all join them. Nor do I believe that in that event there will be the remotest prospect for the reunion of the two sections so long as slave labor shall prove advantageously applicable to the agi'icultui-al wants of the Southern Confederacy.

With my earnest prayer that you may have grace and strength given yoii to support you in the discharge of the duties of your trying position, and that you may decide wisely for yourself, your countrymen, and the best interests of mankind, I remain.

Respectfully youi- obedient servant,

Leonid AS Polk.

Beyond this effort to avert a danger wliieli lie saw more clearly than most other men, I do not find that Bishop Polk did more, before the adoption of the ordinance of secession by the convention of the State of Louisiana, than observe the conrse of events and consider what his dnty as a bishop niio'ht recpiire of him in view

of facts as they occurred. That he was in full sympathy witli the feeling's of his people there is no question, and there is as Httle question tluit he believed the southern States to liave the constitutional right to take the step on which they were resolved. He had not a particle of doubt that an ordinance of secession adopted by a sovereign State would be as valid as the act by which the same State had entered the Federal Union ; and concerning the personal aUegiance of the citizen, he lield, as he had been taught at the national military academy at West Point, that it is due first to the State, and only secondarily, through the State, to the Federal Government, in such matters and for such purposes as the States have declared by the express provisions of the Constitution.

In the light of these principles, which he held to be merely axiomatic, the course of the Church in any State which might adopt an ordinance of secession seemed to him to be clear. With the expediency or inexpediency of secession the Church had no concern; in the agitations which might bring aljout secession she could have no part; but if secession should become a fact, it would be a fact in which the Church must acquiesce and of which she nuist accept the ecclesiastical consequences. Moreover, the action of the Church in any matter which the course of events might require her to decide ought to be so prompt and unequivocal as to leave no room for doubt either of her principles of action or of the l)osition of her members and officers. In his office as a bishop of the Church, he held himself bound to be governed by these principles, but he made no distinction between his official actions as a bishop and his personal conduct as a man. What it was not right or seemly for a bishop to do it could not be expedient for Leonidas

Polk to do on any ground of personal liberty or natural independence. When one remembers his generous warmth of temperament, his entire sympathy with the feelings of his people, and his hatred of disingenuous reserve, his self-control at this time commands not only aj)probation but admiration ; for it does not appear that he contributed so much as the influence of a word to the forces which were precipitating the dissolution of the Union. Never in his life did he hold himself more thoroughly in hand than at that time, when thousands of the ablest men in the country seemed to have abdicated reason and to be swayed only by passion.

On the 28th of December, 18C0, the President of the United States issued a proclamation, inviting the people of the whole nation to unite in the observance of a day of fasting, humiliation, and praj'cr, in view of the political differences then agitating the Union; and on the following day the bishop addressed a brief jjastoral letter to the clergy and laity of his diocese, setting forth a form of prayer to be used on the occasion :

PASTORAL OF DECEMBER 29, 1860.

The clergy of the diocese of Louisiana f.re requested to use the following prayer on the day appointed by the President of the United States as a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer, and at such other times as may seem advisable during the existing emergency.

Leoxidas Polk, Bishop of the Diocese of Louisiana. New Orleans, December 29,1860.

prayer.

0 Almighty God, the Fountain of all wisdom and the Helper of all who call upon thee, we thy unworthy servants, under a deep sense of the difficulties and dangers by which we are

now surrounded, turn our liearts to thee in earnest supplication and prayer. We humble ourselves before thee; we confess that as a nation and as individuals we have grievously offended thee, and that our sins have justly provoked thy ^^Tath and indignation against us. Deal not with us, 0 Lord, according to our iniquities, but according to thy great and tender mercies, and forgive us all that is past. Tm-n thine anger from us, and visit us not with those evils which we have justly deserved. Guide and direct us in all our consultations; save us from all ignorance, — eiTor, pride, and prejudice ; and if it please thee, compose and heal the divisions which disturl) us; or else, if, in thy good providence, it be otherwise appointed, gi'ant, we beseech thee, that the spirit of wisdom and moderation may preside over our councils, that the just rights of all may be maintained and accorded, and that the blessings of peace may be preserved to us and our children throughout all generations. All which we ask through the merits and mediation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

On the 26th of Januarv', 1861, the convention of the State of Louisiana passed an ordinance of secession, withdrawing from the Union, and a few days later, on January 30,1861, the bishop addressed a second pastoral letter to his diocese :

PASTORAL LETTER OF JANUARY 30, 1861.

To tJie Clergy and Laity of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Louisiana:

My beloved Brethren: The State of Louisiana, having, by a formal ordinance, through her delegates in convention assembled, withdrawn herself fi'om all fui'ther connection with the United States of America, and constituted herself a separate sovereignty, has, by that act, removed our diocese from the pale of the " Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States.'' We have, therefore, an independent diocesan existence.

Of the circumstances which have occasioned this act, it

may not be necessary now to speak. They are familiar to you all. It is, however, our happiness to know that in canvassing the sum of the political grievances of which we have complained, we find no contribution made to it by brethren of our own household. Our Chiu-ch in the non-slavehold-ing States, as everywhere, has been loyal to the Constitution and the laws. Her sound conservative teaching and her well-ordered organization have held her steadily to her proper work, and she has confined herself shnply to preaching and teaching the gospel of Christ. Surrounded by a strong pressure on every side, she has successfully resisted its power, and has refused to lend the aid of her conventions, her pulpits, and her presses to the radical and unscriptural propa-gandism which has so degraded Christianity and has plunged our country into its unhappy condition.

In withdrawing ourselves, therefore, from all political connection with the Union to which our brethi-en belong, we do so with hearts filled with sorrow at the prospect of its forcing a termination of our ecclesiastical connection with them also, and that we shall be separated from those whose intelligence, patriotism, Christian integrity and piety we have long known, and for whom we entertain sincere respect and affection. Unfortunately the class they represent was numerically too small to control their section. They have been overborne and silenced, and a different description of mind and character is in the ascendant. The principles and purposes of this party have long been the subject of carefid observation by the people of the southern States, and they have watched its rise and progi-ess with anxious solicitude. They thought they saw in it the seeds of all the evil from which our country is now suffering, and have not failed to employ all the resources at their command to avert it. Their efforts have been fruitless, and they have seen no way of escape from the consequences to themselves and their posterity other than that which they have taken. Of the justice of our cause we have no doubt. Of the wisdom of the measures which we have adopted to maintain it, we may judge from the characters of the men who are engaged in supporting tlicm. With

here and there an exception, they represent the intelligence, the character, and the wealth of the State. We have taken our stand, we humbly trust, in the fear of God and under a sense of the duty which Ave owe to mankind.

Our separation tVoni the brethren of the "Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States " has been effected because we must follow our nationality; not because there has been any difference of opinion as to Christian doctrine or catholic usage. Upon these points we are still one. With us it is a separation, not division ; certainly not alienation. And there is no reason why, if we should And the union of our dioceses under one national Chui'ch impracticable, we should cease to feel for each other the respect and regard with which purity of manners, high principle, and a manly devotion to tnith never fail to inspire generous minds. Our relations to each other hereafter will be the relations we both now hold to the men of our mother-church of England.

But the time has not arrived for entering fully into the discussions of the questions suggested by this occasion, and I have so far remarked upon them because some notice of our relations to the national church from which we have separated seemed called for by the event, and because of the necessity which that event creates for certain alterations in the serAaces of our Book of Common Prayer.

In pursuance of this necessity and under the authority of my office, I appoint for the present the following changes, and request my brethren of the clergy to oljserve them on all occasions of public worship:

In the Prayer for Congress, for the words, " the people of these United States in general, and especially for their senators and representatives in Congress assembled," substitute the words, "the people of this State in general, and especially their Legislature, now in session."

In the Prayer for those in CiWl Authority, for the words, "the President of the United States," use the words, "the Governor of this State."

I also appoint the following prayer to be used during the session of the convention of this State, and during the ses-

sion of the convention of such other States as have withdrawn from the late Federal Union and propose to join Louisiana in the formation of a separate government. I remain, very truly,

Your obedient servant in Christ, Leonidas Polk, Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Louisiana. New Orleans, January 30, 1861.

A PRAYER TO BE USED DURING THE SESSION OF CONVENTION.

Almighty God, the sovereign Ruler of the Universe, whose never-failing providence ordereth all things in heaven and earth, we thy unworthy servants commend to thy special protection the convention of this State i now in session. Impress them with a deep sense of the responsibility with which they are charged. Grant unto them the spirit of wisdom and moderation, the spirit of knowledge and of a sound mind, and fill them, 0 Lord, with the spirit of thy holy fear. Preserve them from the delusions of pride and vainglory. Deliver them from the temptation to aim at other ends than tliose which promote thy glory and the best interests of their country. Save them from the fear or favor of men. Make plain their way before them, and strengthen their hearts that they may pursue it with firmness even to the end. And grant, 0 Lord, that through their labors and under the guidance of thy good Spirit, all things may be so settled that we may be protected from all injustice, that our rights may be amply secured, and that the course of this world may be so peaceably ordered by thy governance that we may joyfully serve thee in all godly quietness. All which we ask through the merits and mediation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

' Should the convention of those States which have withdrawn from the Union be in session at the same time, introduce here the words, " and the convention of southern States." If either convention should adjourn, the other being in session, the language used will be altered accord in irl v.

Within tliree weeks after the sendiiij^ out of this pastoral the Southern Confederacy had been formed. Into this Confederacy Louisiana entered. The bishop accord-ing-ly, on Fel)ruary 20, 1861, issued a third pastoral:

To the Clergy of the Diocese of Louisiana: The progress of affairs makes it expedient to direct further changes in the public services of the Chvu'ch.

In the Prayer for those in Civil Authority, for the words, " the President of the United States," sul)stitute the words, "the President of the Confederate States."

In the special prayer set forth in my letter of the 30th ult., for the words, "and the Convention of Southern States," substitute the words, " and the Congi-ess of the Confederate States."

The Prayer for the Legislature, as ah'eady indicated, will be continued during its sessions. I remain, very tridy,

Your servant in Christ,

Leonidas Polk, Bishop of the Diocese of Louisiana. New Orleans, February 20, 1861.

Between the 26th of January, on which the State of Louisiana seceded from the LTnion, and the inauguration of the Confederate Government at Montgomery, less than one short month had elapsed; and during the successive changes which followed one another with such startling rapidity. Bishop Polk had little opportunity to consult with his brethren of the episcopate. It is doubtful, however, whether he would have felt disposed to divide the responsibility of his official acts even with his most confidential friends. A fortnight before the secession of Louisiana Bishop Atkinson of North Carolina had written him, expressing his opinion that the bishops of the States which were likely to secede should

meet for conference, in order to decide upon some common course of action in the novel circumstances in which they were apparently about to be x)laced. It was difficult, however, for such a meeting- to be held. At such a time no bishop would willingly be al)sent from his diocese; and there were some of the southern bishops who held that propriety forbade them to engage in a movement which might be construed as a political demonstration made under cover of an ecclesiastical conference. Until secession had actually taken place, it was rightly felt that they ouglit not to take any action which could be so construed even by the most unscrupulous malice. But beyond all considerations of that kind, Bishop Polk seems to have felt that the condition of affairs was one which could not have been foreseen, and therefore had in no way been provided for by any express action of the Church, and consequently that the duty of the bishops m the premises must be decided on general principles. Of those principles he himself had no doubt; but that the same principles would be accepted by all the brethren was extremely doubtful. He was not prepared to surrender one jot of what he believed to be his duty either to the Church or to the State of which he was a citizen, and he had no desire to share the responsiljility of his official acts with other men who might be less fully convinced of its imperative obligation. Therefore his preference, as well as the necessity of the occasion, moved him to act for himself alone. H(; was keenly sensitive to the opinion of men in whom he had confidence; as little as any other man did he desire to gratify self-will or to constrain his brethren to sustain him in a course of the propriety of which they were not convinced. But in the sight of God, of the Church, and of the State, he held that lie

was called to take the responsibility of deciding the course of himself and his diocese; and he chose to bear his own burden, without involving any others, whether willingly or unwillingly, in the consequences of his acts. It was not without heartljreak that he contemplated the separation, which he deemed inevitable, from many of his old friends and companions of the North, whom he fully acquitted of all blame for the unhappy condition of the country. In one way or another it was impossible for him to refrain from expressing his affection for them; but not even in letters written under the impulse of the warmest affection could he fail to declare his conviction of the true state of affairs in the present and in the fast-hastening futiu'e. Of his correspondence at this time two letters have fortunately been preserved. They are equally honorable to him and to the honored and beloved Bishop of New York, who was his correspondent. Though they are not essential to the continuity of the story, they are here inserted.

Bishop Polk to Bishop Potter.

New Orleans, January 29,1861. Bight Beverend and dear Brother: You will have heard by telegraph before this reaches you that Louisiana has seceded from the Union. The act was perfected, so far as her intervention Was concerned, on Saturday last. Of the course of those States that have preceded her, you will have been informed. To the hearts of all good men such events cannot but carry soitow, as evidences of the overthrow of the most magTiificent government structure the world ever saw. As to the causes which have produced this, it is useless to refer now. It is done, and it is of the greatest importance to us all that it should be understood. From what we see it is plain that this movement of the southern States is not appreciated at the Nortli. Nothing was ever more deliberate,

uothiug in all its bearings on the future more closely studied or more calmly considered. The door of compromise, so far as the States which have seceded are concerned, is closed; and they will organize themselves into a separate nationahty at Montgomery, through their proper representatives, next week. The only question now is, whether this shall be done peaceably with the consent of the States from which we have separated, or whether an attempt to prevent it will be made by an appeal to arms. The right to secede under the Constitution it is not necessary to argue. It is asserted in such forms as I have indicated, and it has been done with all the possible consequences in full view, and under what the parties regard as the highest duty to themselves and all those with whom they stand connected. It is not to be believed that such a position, taken under such cu-cumstances, is one which woidd be relinquished until all power to maintain it had been exhausted. All this devolves upon fellow-countrymen of the North the responsibility of determining whether the interests of humanity demand the maintenance of the General Government at such a sacrifice of treasure and life as must follow an attempt, by force of arms, to prevent a separation. I cannot believe that they are prepared for this. If it were a mere local discontent by a few only, whatever might be thought of the right of the parties, there might be a show of reasonableness in disposing of it in such a way. But this movement has now assumed gigantic proportions, and in ease of war would involve inevitably one half of the nation in conflict with the other. Are we prepared for this? What could compensate us for such a war? I cannot but think and hope that the good sense and Christian feeling of the North will prevail over passion and pride, and that we shall be saved from such a disaster and be permitted to go in peace. It is our very great happiness to know that the Church has stood Ann, throughout all this contest, to her duty to the Constitution and the laws, and that she has not conti'ibuted in the very least to the causes which have brought these mischiefs upon us. So far as I know, this is felt and confessed throughout the South, and by all parties.

(,)nv affection foi' our brcllivcii in llie North lias not liocn shaken, therefore, in the least, and we earnestly trust that there will be no reason why it should be. If we must separate, it must be to follow our nationality, and not because we have differed on any point of Christian doctrine or religious duty, and there will be no reason why we should not continue to love each other afterward as we both now love the men of the Chnrcli of England.

T remain, very truly,

Yours in Christ and his Church,

Leoxidas Polk. Rt. Rev. Horatio Potter, New York.

Bishop Potter to BMiop Polk.

New York, 33 West 24th Street,

Februai-y 12, 1S61.

My dear Bishop: I thank you heartily for your kind note. I am deeply gratefvd for every token of fraternal regard from your section of this unhappy country. It needs that one should have been abroad this last summer, as I have been, in order to feel how deplorably we are fallen. When I observe how much everything in this quarter goes on as usual, — the same nish in the streets, the same gay, busy throng, driving, visiting, dinners and parties, — I iind it difficult to believe that we are indeed in the midst of a revolution. I am afraid that very few of us. North or South, have any ade(|uate idea of what is before us in ease of final separation.

Of one thing T am thoroughly convinced, and that is, that the mass of the peoi)le are letter than the politicians that rule them, and they will one day make it ajiparent. 1 preached on our national fast day, reluct:intly, and as I wrote, saying severe things 1o the North, T thouglit that to escape Avith a whole skin would be the most I could hope for. On the contrary, the whole congregation rose up and asked for my sermon with strong expressions of approval. I preached my sermon again, reluctantly, in another large congregation, and ihcv did the same thing. I preached it to a country congre-

^t. 54] NOBTHERN SENTIMENTS. 'Ill

gation, and the twenty clergy present earnestly asked for it, apparently Avithoiit a dissenting voice. So much for the ill-feeling at the North toward the South! This is bat one of hundreds of indications of northern sentiments. With regard to the questions of peace or war, we are in the hands of God. If nothing can heal this breach, I, for one, most earnestly hope that we may separate, if such a thing be possible, peaceably. Whether you can hope that the northwest will ever consent that the mouth of the Mississippi River shall be in the hands of a foreign power, you ought to be better able than I am to judge. I confess I think it very unlikely. It seems to me no very encouraging omen that the Abolitionists of the North are mad with delight at the prospect of disunion. The tone of Tennessee, and Virginia, and Kentucky, and Maryland, and North Carolina even, seems to me to afford some ground of hope that we may yet find some basis for agreement. It has done for the northern mind what threats and secession could not do. It has made the Nortli willing to try to harmonize.

Most warmly do I reciprocate all that you say of your feeling toward brethren at the North. Our feeling toward you and your brethren (and we love much, though we may have said little) is not in the least changed. Otey, Green, yourself, Elliott, Davis, etc., — no men in the Church are more admired and loved at the North. We would do anything for you in the Church; and let a foreign power lay but its little finger upon you in hostility, and you shall see that we are ready to do anything for you in your civil capacity. God most merciful, guide, preserve, and bless you.

Believe me to be, my dear Bishop Polk,

Ever most affectionately yours,

H. Potter.

To THE Rt. Rev. Leonidas Polk.

If the g'racious and manl}^ gentleness of Bishop Potter is an ornament to the northern Church, the reluctance with whicli the southern bishops admitted the principles set forth by their brother of Louisiana is not less honorable to them. Of the criticisms of tlic iiastorals of

Bishop Polk Avliicli appeared in the northern Chm'ch press, with one exception, it is needless to speak; indeed, they were unworthy of consideration; but the editor of the Church Journal, the late Dr. John Henry Hopkins, had the learning to detect a flaw in the bishop's argument, and the capacity to discuss it like a scholar and a gentleman. He took exception to the bishop's declaration that a diocese could, by any means, and particularly by the action of the ci\il power, be placed in a position of diocesan independence, and this criticism was undoubtedly eoiTCct. Under no system known to the cathoHc Church can any diocese have a permanently independent existence. In one generation the succession must necessarily fail without the intervention of other dioceses, and during that one generation all discipline would be impossible.

On this point there can be no dispute on the part of any person who believes in the catholic constitution of the Church. It may therefore be at once confessed that the language of the bishop's pastoral of January 30, 18G0, was not sufficiently guarded. Wlien he said that by the secession of the State of Louisiana the diocese of Louisiana had been removed " from within the pale of the Protestant Episcopal Chui'ch in the United States," the truth of the assertion depended upon two questions: first, whether the ordinance of secession adopted by the convention of the State of Louisiana was an effectual act — a question which was only determined by the arbitrament of war; and second, whether the constitution of the catholic Church in general, or of the Church in this country in particular, of necessity involved the separation of the diocese from the national ecclesiastical organization, as a consequence of an actual secession of the States from the national Union of States, The first was

a question of fact, the second was a cjuestiou of law. But, however the fact or the law might be, no fact in the history of any country, and no law of any provincial or national Church, could have the effect of remitting a diocese of the catholic Church to a position which would be a contradiction of the first principles of all catholic jDolicy.

If Bishop Polk had intended to maintain any such doctrine he would have been on the verge of schism. But Bishop Polk meant nothing of the kind. The word Independence (which he used) was unfortunate. Isolation would have better expressed his real meaning. He held the secession of the State to be, in right and in fact, an effectual act, and he held that the Church in the United States was, by its own written constitution, so organized as a national Chnrch that the dioceses belonging to it must of necessity be within the geographical boundaries of the United States. It followed that if the State of Louisiana had been in fact, as he believed, removed from within those boundaries, the diocese must likewise have been ''removed from the pale of the Church in the United States." His view was supported by the whole Anglican doctrine of national churches, and certainly by the precedent of the origin of the Church in the United States, in w^hich it had been assumed from the first that the separation of the colonies from the mother country " of necessity" involved the separate organization of a national Church in this country.

Nothing on this subject could be clearer than the general principle enunciated and applied in the preface to our own Book of Common Prayer, which declares that "when in the course of divine Providence these American States became independent with respect to civil government, their ecclesiastical independence was necea-

sarily iii(;luded " ; and this uotwithstaudiiig the fact that they were under the spiritual jurisdiction of a lawful bishop, the Bishop of London. By the se})aration of the colonies from the mother country, the Church in America held that the jurisdiction of the Bishop of London, he being a bishop of a foi-eign country, was, ipso facto, vacated. If it were true, as Bishop Polk certainly believed, that the seceding States were in fact separated from the United States, it followed that the dioceses of those States could be no longer under the jurisdiction of a Church which had become to them a foreign Church. For the moment, therefore, the diocese of Louisiana had been removed from its association with the national Church with which it had been united, and for that' moment no other union with other dioceses was possible. For that moment, therefore, it was in a position of isolation imposed upon it by facts over which it had no control. It was in a position in which it was not possi-l)le to remain and in which it did not desire to remain, ])ut from which it had just then no power to escape.

That position Bishop Polk somewhat unhappily designated as a position of diocesan independency. As is usual in such cases, the controversy between men of right principles was a controversy concerning words. The facts were decided l)y a tribunal in which the Chiu-ch had no voice. Respect for the temperate and courteous .•vnimadversions of the editor of the Church Journal re-(juires thus much explanation ; that they received Bishoj) Polk's very respectful consideration will appear later <m in the tiction of the <'onvention of the diocese of Louisiana.

From the representatives of the Church in the north-(M-n States Bishop Polk A\'as prepared to expect adverse criticism, but he was not prepared for the strong remon-

.IJt. 54] CllAliGE OF EEASTIANISM. LiSl

strances which were sent to liiiii by .southern bishops. It would be easy to dispose of them by saying- that the arguments of those gentlemen were set aside by their conduct, since every one of them, not long afterward, virtually assumed the same position and followed the same course which Bishop Polk had pursued in Louisiana. But if the course of Bishop Polk was in fact the right course, and if the timely adoption of that course with its necessary consequences placed the southern Church in a way of present safety which at last led t<> the happy reunion of our whole national communion, the objections which were alleged against it ought not to be lightly disnussed. Those objections were raised, not by enemies, but l)y friends and brothers whom he loved and trusted. Otey of Tennessee and Lay of Arkansas wrote in terms of love and i^ain which were a joy and a grief to him. Their points were that he had adopted a principle of sheer Erastianism, and, what was still more painful, that he had not been duly faithful to his vow of consecration as a bishop, which bound him to obedience to the '' discipline and w^orship of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States."

The charge of Erastianism is so feel)le, when consid-ei'ed on its merits and when we remember the acumen of the men who jn-eferred it, that it must have represented rather their reluctance to admit the conclusions at which Bisho}) Polk had arrived than a conviction of his error. No man was ever more jealous than he of the rights and dignities of the Chm-cli in the face of any authority short of that of his Master. But he held that the Church itself, in order to avoid conflict with tiie civil power, had fr(»ely chosen so to constitute iti-elf as to entail certain results on civil action of which he was not the arbiter, but merciv the observer. His vow of

consecration he felt that he was bound to interpret in its relation to the cu-cumstances in which he fonnd himself unexpectedly placed. In ordinary circumstances the vow was absolute; but the circumstances in which he actuall}' found hunself had not been contemplated when that vow was proposed and accepted. The purpose of the vow had therefore to be considered. Its intention was to maintain unity among the members of a national Church, and that intention was subordinate and subsidiary to the paramount purposes for which the Church exists. In the providence of God, as he believed, the national unity had been destroyed, consequently the union of the dioceses of the national Church had lapsed; but the purposes of the existence of the Church had not lapsed, and could not lapse. It behoved him, therefore, as a cathohc bishop, to carry out the catholic purpose of his office, notwithstandmg any lapse of the particular organization with which he had been connected ; and in so doing he knew that he was not only following the safe rule of catholic precedent, but also following out the declared principles of the Church, which had demanded and received his vow of consecration. Firmly adhering to these convictions, he met the expostulations of men like Otey and Lay vnth a direct and simple plainness of sincerity which was worthy of all concerned, and in the end the southern bishops, without one single exception, followed the course of Polk, however they might continue, in pastoral and other pronuneiamentos, to controvert his arguments or to debate his theoretical positious.

At the North, however. ;in iiii])rcssioii prevailed that the bishop desh-ed to put an tnid to the cooperation of the two sections of the Church in the department of Foreign and Domestic Missions. Nothing could have

been further from his intention. He had contented himself with declarincf wliat he believed to be the actual and constitutional status of his diocese, and he had given no intimation either of an opinion or of a desire that the former cooperation of the northern and the southern sections of the Church should be discontinued. Accordingly, to meet this unforeseen and causeless apprehension, he issued his pastoral of March 28,1861, as foUows:

Brethren of the Clergy and Laity: I have been informed that, since the publication of my pastoral letter of the 30th January, some embarrassment has arisen in certain minds as to the disposition of such funds as have been usually raised for foreign and domestic missions.

The object of that letter was to declare the theoretical status of our diocese, consequent upon the change of our nationality, by the separation of Louisiana from the United States of America, and to submit that status as my authority, in the face of my " promise of conformity" to the " discipline and worship of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America," for directing such changes in the Book of Common Prayer as a paramount expediency and the law of Christ himself in such case demanded. It concluded nothing beyond. It nevertheless looked farther. It contemplated the merging of our State nationality, perfect and complete in itself, into that of a confederation "to be composed of such other States as have withdrawn from the late Federal Union," and so of our diocese into a union with the dioceses in those States under a common constitution. Nay, more, it did not undertake to decide whether a union of the dioceses withiu the seceded States with those in the United States from which they were thus separated would, under any form, be " impracticable." It only indicated the relations which would subsist between them in case such a imion should not be found feasible. It took the ground that, from the terms and conditions of the Book of Common Prayer, and of the constitution and canons of tho Protestant Episcopal Church in

the United States of America, and from the necessities of the case, a separation of the dioceses in the seceding States was forced from the cUoceses of the United States. It drew a distinction between union in k^gislation, whether constitutional or canonical, and unity in Christian doctrine and catholic usage. The former is national, and therefore local, and is subject properly to such changes as the law of expediency or of necessity may demand. The latter is universal, and beyond the reach of all changes in pohtical government, and is that in which consists the essence of the oneness of the body of Christ.

A change in church union, therefore, does not necessarily involve a breach of church unity, " The liberty wherewith Clirist has made us free" may allow us, without offense, to accept a status which necessity, not to say the providence of God, has forced upon us, provided the doctrine of his church and the order of its administrations in all of those things which are vital be left unimpaired.

The confederation of these States, which at the date of that letter was a foreshadowed event, has now become a reality. The orgaiiization of the new government has been completed and a permanent constitution adopted. Time lias not allowed us as yet opportunity to consult with our sister dioceses as to the proper course to be pursued, either with reference to a separate organization or the relations which it may be practicable to establish Avith our sister dioceses in the United States.

I cannot doubt, however, that some plan will be adopted by Avhich the dioceses of the Confederate States will be brought into a practical union, and I do not now see why some basis of connection may not be agreed upon, by which our respective organizations, North and South, while left free in all those respects in wliich freedom is expedient, may continue to act together in such things as are above the merely local, and in which greater efficiency would result from a union of our resources and our energies.

These details, however, must be left to the development of the future. In the mean season, as our confidence in its

largest measure in the Christian integrity, zeal, and judiciousness of our brethren who have charge of the foreign and domestic missions of the Church is undiminished, I recommend that such funds as may have been, or may hereafter be, collected for these objects, be sent forward as heretofore. Such changes as may be convenient will be made as events progress and as expediency may dictate. I remain, very truly,

Your obedient servant in Christ, Leonidas Polk, Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Louisiana. New Orleans, March 28, 1861.

It might be supposed that when the bishop was thus occupied with the vast interests of the university, pressed with the anxieties of j)ublic affairs, and engaged in what might almost be called a public controversy, the ordinary business of his diocesan work would be less vigorously prosecuted than in former years; but it was not so. The record shows precisely the reverse. Polk was one of those men to whom the increase of labor seems to lend a new energy. The demands made upon him operated as a stimulus to his finely organized sanguine-nervous temperament, so that the more he was required to do the more easily he seemed to do it. The last year of his active exercise of the functions of the episcopate was the most happily prosperous and promising of his whole life. In the scattered communities of Louisiana he saw in that one year no less than five new churches built, and two of them he had the pleasure of consecrating. At Bastrop he organiztnl a new and self-supporting congregation, and at Dallas, as the result of one vigorous effort, he organized a congregation, held an election of the vestrv. and secured the means for the

erection of a church and the permanent support of a rector. At the annual Diocesan Convention of May, 1S61, six new parishes were admitted. The number of communicants in the diocese was considerably increased. The confirmations were more than in any previous year. The care of masters for then- servants showed an enlarged and enlightened interest in the spiritual welfare of the slaves which was most encouraging, so that at one place he confirmed ten, at another twenty-eight, at another thirty-one, and at another forty-three negroes. But, best of all, the impression he made l)y his force of character, his generous spirit, his masculine gentleness, his broad sympathies, his unremitting labors, and finally by his scheme of the university, had attracted to him, and through him to the Church, the affectionate respect of the whole people of his diocese. Wherever he went on his last ^'isitation he received a warm welcome from men of all ranks and of all religious and political opinions; and as he records in his last report to his convention, he found the people in the northern parishes of the State everywhere looking kindly to the Chm'ch, and assuring him of theii* desire to have its services established among them. It is a happiness to all who loved him to know that this last year in which he was to be permitted to minister to his people in his exalted office, if it was a year of great perplexity and constant anxiety, was yet perhaps the most encouraging and happy year of his episcopal life, and in almost every respect the most manifestly fn;itfiU.

During Bishop Polk's last visitation, which continued from the beginning of February to the end of April, 1861, his family had been placed at Sewanee, in a rude but comfortal)le cottage which he had built on the uni-versitv domain, and as the course of events made it from

day to day more probable that the Federal Government would resist the secession of the southern States by force of arms, it was a comfort to him to believe that in their mountain retreat his wife and children would be in a place of quiet and security, whatever might betide. Two letters of his, wiitten toward the close of his visitation, give insight into his own state of mind and also into the general condition of the public mind of the South at that time.

To Mrs. Folk.

Trinity, De Soto, La., April 21, 1861. My dear Wife: Yoii see I aiu thus far on my way round my diocese. This is the day I appointed to be here. God has blessed me and enabled me to fill all my appointments. I have been to Shreveport, and have got through there. I am to preach here this morning at eleven o'clock, and this evening, at candle-light, in Mansfield, seventeen miles distant. I am, thank God, very well. I wrote to Meek and to Colonel Smith, withdra^ving him from the institute and directing him to repair to the mountain, and stay there until I come home. Now that the attack on Fort Sumter has taken place, I am satisfied that we shaU have war, and that we shall have occasion for the services of all the yoimg men of the South. I am also satisfied that Virginia must now come in, and that Smith's Corps wiU have to take the field. If so, I had rather Meek should be with such corps than some one of the many others with which he might have to be associated. Love to all. Very tenderly yours,

Leonidas Polk.

P. S. I go by way of jMoiiroc and Vicksburg to New Orleans. Have just heard that Virginia has seceded. I am at

the house of . They arc full of enthusiasm.

Yours truly and lovinglv,

' L. P.

To Mrs. Folk.

New Orleans, April 26, 1861.

My beloved Wife: I am now at the stock-landing, on the steamer " Hodge," which is putting out cattle. I found, on my return to Shi-eveport, that I could not get to my appointment at Minden because of a change of schedule in the stages, and so had to give it up. I came, therefore, to New Orleans in this boat. I am very weU, and had a good time to rest and sleep on the boat, so that I feel quite refreshed this morning. . . .

The whole world is in arms, in the country and in the town. AU are agreed now. There are not two parties any more, and I am glad to see that we are at last to have the border States. Of the issue I have no doubt. As Tennessee is now aroused, you are, of course, in a very safe and secure place, and need have no apprehension. I have written to Meek to stay where he is. He is better there under Smith's command than he would be elsewhere. I suppose he has Aviitten to you. ... I have not time to add more. Love to the dear girls.

Very truly and affectionately yours,

Leonidas Polk.

From these letters it is evideut that the bishop had ceased to chcj'ish the hope of peaceable secession which most other men at the South had entertained. As he had written to Bishop Potter, it was not possible for a good man to be otherwise than sorro\A'ful at such a ^vi-eck of " the most magnificent government stnicture the world ever saw." But since the war was now clearly inevitable, he regarded it ^^^th the fortitude of a soldier. He held it to be on the part of the South a war of simple self-defense. He knew that no war can be waged witliout great suffering, but his West Point training had taught him to think of war not as a thing merely of butchery and rapine, but of fair fight in open field. It

did not occur to him tli;it a conflict between Americans could exhibit itself in assaults upon defenseless women and children. Under any circumstances, he supposed that the most helpless portion of the human race would be unmolested; and in their secure retreat at Sewanee, he thought that his family, if not " secure from wear's alarms," would surely be safe from its dangers.

This confidence was destined to be shattered by a horrible siu'prise. On landing at New Orleans, the very day on which he had wi'itten to Mrs. Polk of his satisfaction in the assurance of her safety at Sewanee, he found letters from her telling him that her house had been burned over her head and over the heads of her family of unprotected daughters, in the dead of night, and manifestly by the hand of an incendiary. For a moment the shock nearly overpowered him. All the whole heart of the man and of the father swelled in mingled horror and disgust at the cowardly attempt to assassinate defenseless women. He never doubted that the outrage w^as prompted liy political animosity. From that day forward he considered the war against the South not so much as an international war of aggression and conquest, but rather as a war of spoliation, incendiarism, outrage, and assassination, w^liich every man who recognized the first law of nature was bound in duty to resist with whatever powers of head or hand he had received. This impression was indefinitely strengthened by a letter which he received shortly afterward from a northern bishop, now dead, whom he had esteemed with great affection. On his countenance one might see from time to time the play of every best expression that belongs to human emotion; after the reading of that letter it v/ore the sublimity of righteous wrath.

Beyond all doubt the letter of Bishop helped

to form the after-thoughts and to influeuce the after-course of Bishop Polk. It would be strange if it had not done so. The reader will remember how he had clung to his belief in the influence of the Church to mollify the rising passions of the sections. Now that the fabric of the Union, as he believed, had been rent in twain and those who had been fellow-citizens were about to close in mortal strife, lie had still looked to the Church to mitigate the horrors of inevita-l)le war. And here there came to him a sanctimonious exhortation from one of the highest ministers of the Church itself, warning him of the punishment to be awarded to the wickedness of slavery — him to whom the institution of slavery had been a life-long burden! — but breathing no syllable of condemnation against the assassins of women and children! To Polk it seemed that the minds even of churchmen had indeed " given way," since the utmost atrocities of war — atrocities perpetrated before the war was well begun — could meet with at least the approbation to be inferred from the silence of a bishop.

The following letter to Mrs. Polk was written by thi' bishop in the first shock of horror after hearing of the

fire:

New Orleaxs, April 27,1861. 3Ij/ beloved Wife: I arrived from Shi-eveport yesterday, and found yoiu- letter of the loth, LilUe'.s of the 22d, SaUie's of the 18th, and yours of the 23d. I have been so affected by your touching recital that I have been made sick at heart. Was there ever in all the world such a hellish proceeding'? To fire, the houses of two such utterly lonely and defenseless famihes, composed of women only, and in the dead of the night! The spirit of heU itself was never more esliibited; and that both houses were fired durinpr the same night and at the same

moment perhaps, sucli a diabolical spirit and heart I never before heard of. How I should have liked to come upon the scoundrels when they were engaged in the act! I am satisfied that it was the work of an incendiary, and that it was prompted by the spirit of Black Republican hate. I cannot but hope and beUeve that the parties will be discovered. It was only yesterday that I wrote you from the stock-landing and congratulated you on the very safe retreat from the agitations of the times and the country at large. How little do we know, and how little did I think you were then suffering from having had your house burnt over your head, and that your life and the lives of our dear children had been put to peril by such villainy! But God took care of you and saved you from the jaws of death. For this I hoj^e we shall never cease to be thankful and praise him. I thought no insurance had been effected, and was sui-prised to hear from Mr. Sloo, whom I met on the street, that it had been done. For this we are indebted, my beloved, thoughtful wife, to you ; and I most heartily thank God for putting it in your mind. The i^olicy of the insurance, I learned, was signed just before the ire, and the dispatch announcing the fire was received on the return of the agent from the post-oflice. Well, we ought to be thankful it is no worse. . . . Lbonidas Polk.

Criielly .shocked as he had been, it is not to be supposed that after the first sharp agony was over — and while it lasted it was nothing short of agony — the bishop wore his heart n2)on his sleeve for daws to peck at. To all appearances he recovered very soon from all that, and nothing in his language or demeanor indicated the intensity of his feelings or the rapid growth of his convictions. To the outward eye he was ever the same; in his public utterances he was wholly unchanged; in private conversation he was still as debonair and graciously attractive as before; in his order of business he continued to follow the rule of his life, which was " to do the thing that lav next him," a'oino; on his ordinarv

way without change of his ordinary methods; and yet there is reason to beheve, m view of all that followed, that it was then that he entered into the solitary mental struggle which resulted in his taking arms in defense of the Confederacy. Not that he had already formed the purpose of taking arms, or had even distinctly considered it; least of all that he had allowed himself to be controlled by any feeling of passion; but that he. had been thoroughly impressed with the conviction that the impending war would be a war of moral issues, and that it would be waged in a manner so frightful that no man could tell what his duty as a man might require of him. However these foreboding questions might be eventually answered, the one duty which lay next to him at that time was the du-ection of the affairs of his diocese. The annual convention was about to meet at St. Prancis-ville, and after all the agitations through which he had passed, he wrote his convention address in the same fii-ni but temperate tone in which his previous pastorals had been composed. The event of that convention had been a matter of some concern to him ; for in his own diocese, as elsewhere, the positions he had assumed with regard to the ecclesiastical effect of sec(^ssiou had been misunderstood by some and were admitted with reluctance by others. Especially among the clergy there was a desire to escape, if possible, from taking any positive action; but the proposal of Polk and Elliott that there should be a conference of delegates fi-om the southern dioceses at Montgomery in the month of July could by no possibility he evaded. At one time the bishop would have been content that the convention should waive the merits of the subject and simply elect delegates to the proposed meeting. It was pointed out to him, however, that if the positions he had assumed were not really

sound positions, the diocese ouglit not to give them an apparent support by an election which would be interpreted as an indorsement of the grounds on which it had been recommended; and, on the other hand, that if his positions were really well taken, he had a right to expect his diocese to sustain him boldly and unequivocally. It was therefore resolved that the subject of the bishop's pastorals should be brought forward on its merits, and that the sense of the convention should be taken concerning them. In point of fact, as the issue proved, there was no serious objection to the bishop's views when they were properly explained, and before the convention met much of the reluctance to acquiesce in them had been swept away by the course of public affairs.

All that was needed, therefore, was that the status of the Church in consequence of secession should be set forth in ecclesiastical language and expounded on the common principles of canon law, English and American. Immediately after the opening services and organization of the convention, the bishop read his annual address.^ in which he confined himself to a statement of his official acts, followed by a masterly vindication of his action in ordering a change in the Prayer for the President of the United States, and a reiteration of the principles he had enunciated in his pastorals. He still, to the regret of some who were in perfect sympathy with him, continued to use the inaccurate phrase of " diocesan independence." Indeed, he went apparently much further by declaring that " the normal condition of the dioceses of the catholic Church is that of separate independence," and that " a departure from that condition has ever been

1 For extracts from Bishop Polk's address, see Appendix to Chapter VII.

the fruit of expediency 011I3'." These expressions were unfortunate. It whs cousec^uently of the more importance that the action of his di(jcesan convention should be clearly and accurately expressed.

So much of the bishop's address as referred to the position of the diocese in consequence of secession was specially referred to the Committee on the State of the Churcli, and the committee was appointed with reference to this part of the business. Among- its inembers wei'c some of the strong^est men of the diocese. The four laymen were amouG; the most eminent in the State, and three of the four cleri>y were men of nuiture age and experience as well as of recognized ahihty. In their ])(»litical views they were fairly balanced, foi", of the whole eight members, four had been in favor of unconditional secession, three had acted with the \n\Y{\ of cooperation, and one h.id t.iken neither side on that subject.

part0005

AVhen the report of tin' <'ommittee was brought in on the second day of the convention, the greatest anxiety was felt by all parties; for it was all but certain that the r('))ort of such a commiltci' wimld carry the suffrages of a large majority of the meml)ers present. The result justified the ex])ectation. The committee, after a few words in which they called attention to the floui'ishing and hopeful condition of the internal affairs of the diocese, proceeded dir(M'tly to the consideration of the ecclesiastical consequences of the s(>cession of the State from the Federal Union. They discussed the (|uestions at is.suc calmly and dispassionately, on purely historical and canonical gi-ounds. a\<)iding the hisliojt's ]ilirase of ••diocesan inde})endence,"'except in one instance,in which the connection sufficiently defined the sense in which the phrase was used. The scope of their argument.

liowever, sustained the bisliop'.s positions in every other partienlar. The only part of the T'eport wliioh exhibited any warmth at all was that in which they expressed their cordial and affectionate regard for their brother-churchmen of the United States from whom they believed themselves to have been ecclesiastically separated; and in this part of their report they chose to use the same glowing words which had been already used by the bishop in his first pastoral of January 30, 18G1. When the resolutions of the committee were formally moved for adoption there was almc^st literally no oi)po-sition. The Rev. Dr. Goodrich, rector of St. Paul's, New Orleans, who was one of the most respected and beloved clergymen in the diocese, and who had been one of the most reluctant to admit that the ordinance of secession, or any other act of secular power, could eflfect a separation l)etween the dioceses of the Church, rose in his place and said that the view of the subject which had been presented by the committee was entirely new to him; that he had not thought of considering it in the light in which it had been considered by the committee ; and that from the provisions of the constitution and canons of the Church which had been cited l)y the committe(% it now appeared that the separation of the diocese from the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States had been effected not by the direct operation of the ordinance of secession, but by the operation of the laws of the Church itself, which, though they had not l)een made with that particular intention, Avcre nevertheless of su(;h force as to effect the separation in such circumstances as had arisen. It was impossible, he said, to tloubt that the quotations from the constitution and canons of the Church whicli the committee had made could have been made otherwise than accuratelv and

with perfect fairness, and in tlic faee of those quotations ho was not prepared to deny the conclusions at which the committee had arrived. He should not, therefore, oppose the adoption of the resolutions which had heen snbmitted to the convention.

After the modest and temperate spee(^h of Dr. Goodrich, one clergyman spoke in opposition to the resolutions ; the committee made no reply, and the whole sei-ies was carried with hardly a dissenting voice. At the beginning of the reading of the report of the committee, the bisho}) sat in his chair with an aspect of studied composure, l)ut to one who knew him well it was easy to see that he was exceedingly anxious. Until the committee entered the house from the room in which they had been deliberating, he had received no intimation of the nature of their report, and he had been too proud to make personal inquiry concerning the opinions of the several members of the convention. He would have been content with the appointment of delegates to the (convention at iMontgumery. — that, indeed, was all that he had asked in his address; but his Avarm-hearted, affectionate nature, much more than his jnst sense of official dignity, had led him to desire a more unc(piivocal indorsement from his diocese than it had been altogether certain that he would receive. He thought himself pre-])ared for either event, l>ut he was not entirely prepared for the elaborate and complete \andication presented in the report of the committee; and when their propositions Avere successively laid doA\Ti with a force of argument which, to say the least, was not contemptil)le ; when their resolutions were read, clearly sustaining him on grounds which he himself had not fully, if at all, thought out; when all dignified ()])i)()sition wa.s gracefully and graciously withdrawn: and when his convention all but

iiuauiniously stood by liim and sustuined liiin before the world and before the Chnrch, — then his deep sense of satisfaction beamed from every featm-e of his noble countenance. That was virtually the last act of his last convention, for the remaining business was merely formal. It was the crowning happiness of the most successful year of his episcopate. It was not, indeed, an unmingied joy, for it came as an alleviation of a great sorrow; but such as it was, it is something to thank God for that this, the last act of his last convention, was an act of loving, loyal support.^

A few words of comment on the action of the convention of the diocese of Louisiana can hardly be out of place at this point. Now that all the excitements of the time have long passed away, it seems to me, in the light of some later studies in ecclesiastical history and canon law, that, so far as the canonical argument of the Committee on the State of the Church goes, I should be prepared to hold a brief either for or against the resolutions. That there is force in the argument I still tliink, but that there is as much force in it as I thouglit then is no longer clear to me. I find some serious flaws in it which a dexterous advocate might point out witli damaging effect. In the historical argument I find no fault at all; it now seems to me to have been needlessly weakened by adding to it the more questionable theses which were founded upon canon law. As good lawyers say, " One good reason is better than two;" and yet it was precisely the weaker argument, as I now consider it, which carried most conviction and disarmed most prejudice.

Looking at the action of the diocese of Louisiana as

1 For report of committee, see Appendix to Chapter VII.

a whole, I regard it as right in itself under the existing circumstances, and, with reference to its results, as a cause of unbounded thankfulness. But for the calling of the convention of the bishops and delegates of the southern dioceses at Montgomery by the Inshops of Louisiana and Georgia, those dioceses might have remained without organization throughout the whole period of the war; and but for the strong support given to those two bishops by their diocesan conventions, the convention at Montgomery woidd probably not have been held. If the southern dioceses had been compelled, during the excitements of tliose frightful years, to remain in the condition of virtual independence, many deplorable irregularities would probably have occurred, and it is morally certain that the happy reunion of our whole Church, which followed instantly after the close of the war, would not, and could not, liave tak(ni place with the fraternally instinctive spontaneity which was, and will remain, a crown of glory to both sections of the Church. I hold, therefore, i)aradoxical as it may appear, that the greatest service which Bishop Polk ever rendered to the Church, which he would have gladly died to serve, was his declaration that, without a l)reach of the essential unity of the Church, and -snthout the least breach of reciprocal affection, the bond of provincial union between the southern and the northern dioceses had been effectually sundered. And if one may reasonably consider not only what has happened, but what might liave hapjjened, the impression of the wisdom and far-sighted charity of Bishop Polk admits of no dispute. No one can look back upon the events of the war between the States and say that the success of the Confederacy was an impossibihty. If the Confederacy had succeeded, there Avould never have Ijeen any

question, either at the North or at the South, of the soundness of the views which Polk had set forth concerning the ecclesiastical effect of an ordinance of secession ; but the terms of brotherly love in w^hich he had testified that the southern Church had no cause of grievance against her northern sister w^ould, in all human probability, have smoothed the way for a reunion of the two bodies in all matters not pertaining to the administration of their local affairs. And then — who knows f — the influence of the Church might have availed to suggest, and perhaps to bring about, a political reunion of the two alienated sections of the country. These may be idle dreams nou\ but they might well have been realities, and whatever w^e may think about them now, the fact is apparent that, in either event, the ^wnse leading of Polk had prepared the way for the ultimate furtherance of the best interests of the Church.

John Fulton.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VII.

Extracts from Bishop Polk's Address to the Annual

Convention of the Diocese of Louisiana, at

Grace Church, St. Francisville, 1861.

On the 26tli of January, the State of Louisiana, in the exercise of her indefeasible riijht, severed her connection with the Government of the United States, resumed the powers of which she had divested herself, and became a separate and independent sovereignty. This act carried with it the allegiance of her citizens. Their supreme government ceased to be that of the United States, and became that of the State of Louisiana, to which alone they owed a paramount fealty, and all the duties growing out of such a relationship. This change of allegiance chm-chmen shared in common with others, and it became their duty promptly to demonstrate their recognition of that change, in the forms in which the Founder of our holy religion required his followers to recognize de facto governments. In the affair of the tribute-money, he lays down the doctrine that such governments have a right to claim from their citizens or subjects the support necessary for their effective maintenance, — a right founded on the fact that the State, as well as the Church, is a divine institution, under whatever form of organization it may be presented. In the administration of divine pi-ovidence, the Ruler of the universe casteth down one and putteth up another, choosing for himself the instruments l)cst adapted to effect his ends. So that, whether it be Sanhedrim or Ciiesar, ''the powers that be are ordained of God." They are to be supported uot only with material aid and personal services, but by suppHcations and l)rayers. Hence arises the duty of a Church, on the occur-

:;on

rence of any established cliauge of government, to alter her formularies so as to make them conform to the new condition of things. It was clear, therefore, in the circumsta^nces in which we were placed, that an alteration in the services of the Book of Common Prayer, after the separation of Louisiana from the Govei-nment of the United States, was indispensable. It was an alteration forced by the necessity of obedience to the law of Christ himself. This was felt by the clergy and laity of the diocese generally, not less than by myself. But, under the constitution and canons of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, there existed no authority accessible to lis competent to meet the emergency. Section 14, Canon 13, Title I, it is true, gives to the bisho{) of each diocese authority '' to compose forms of prayer, as the case may require for extraordinary occasions " ; and under its provisions I set forth, for the national fast, the form appended to my pastoral letter of December 28th. The case now joresented is altogether different. It called for an alteration in the matter of the Book of Common Prayer itself, a prerogative withheld from the bishops, because expressly surrendered by them and their diocesan conventions at the time they adopted the constitution. This power is vested in the general convention alone. In the Eighth Article of the constitution of the national Church, it is provided that " no alteration or addition shall be made in the Book of Common Prayer, unless the same shall be proposed in one general convention, and, by a resolve thereof, made known to the convention of every diocese, and adopted at the subsequent general convention." The delay involved in an effort to comply with this pro-\dsion, even supposing that, when it was allowed, it Avould have met the ease, was manifestly forbidden by the pressing nature of the emergency. What, then, was to be done*? A conflict now arose between the duty which we, as a diocese, owed to the provisions of a constitution which bound us to pray for the rulers of one government, and the duty which we owed to the law of Christ himself which required us to pray for those of another. In such a case, the latter must, of necessity; prevail, though it be

J02 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VII.

at the expense of the overthrow of the constitution whose provisions we should be forced thus deliberately to repudiate. It has prevailed. And although we have not, as a diocese, in our assembled capacity, pionounced upon and avowed this repudiation, yet we have done so in effect. My view of the duties of my office, under those circumstances, required me to addi'ess to you my pastoral letter of the 30th of January, setting forth and directing certain alterations in the Book of Common Prayer; and your view of the duties of yours authorized you to accept and use those alterations in the public services of the Church. Of the propriety and duty of the course we have pursued in this matter, notwithstanding the effect of our action on our relations, under the con-stitiition, to the Church in the United States. I have not a doubt, nor can the reasoning which has led us to our present position be successfully controverted.

There was a time in the history of the Church in Louisiana when it was not under the authority of the constitution of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America, and wiien there was no constitutional imion existing lietween it and the dioceses in the United States. The Fifth Article of the constitution of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States provides for the admission of dioceses not in the Union on their agi'eeing to accede to that instrument; and the diocese of Louisiana, having embodied the required stipulation in the First Article of her constitution, was admitted on application.

In accepting the constitutional connection wliicli was thu.s established, our diocese did not intend to impose upon herself impossible obligations which in any future contingency would conflict with her duties to Christ. Thei-e are duties and rights which, in the case of communities, as of individual Christians, are inalienable, and which, in the nature of things, must always be reserved. In the case under consideration, the duty we have performed, and the right to perform it, are of that chai-acter ; and to discharge the former we have been obliged to resume the latter. And thus, having the exercise oi our original powers remitted to us, we have been forced.

whether we would or not, into the position of diocesan independence.

It will be perceived, then, that our ecclesiastical position results from the political action of the State of Louisiana in separating- herself from the Federal Government of the United States, and from the effect of that action on the provisions of the Constitution of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States. Not that it has been accomplished by any act of the legislature of the State in an attempt to exercise direct civil control over the political or ecclesiastical relations of the Church. To such influences the Church in this country is happily in no M'ise subject.

But while the Church is entirely free from interference on the part of the State, she is, nevertheless, not exempt from the consequences of the action of the State on her present attitude in Louisiana. She assumes what her duty to her Lord requires her to assume, — that, though she be compelled to set aside her obligations to her ecclesiastical constitution in the United States of America, she must follow her nationality.

It must not be forgotten that a written constitution, such as that which binds the dioceses of the United States together, is a novelty in the Church, no other instance of the kind being known to her history. It was adopted in imitation of the action of the States within whose boundaries onr dioceses lay. It was a measure of expedience, and, for all the purposes it was competent to serve, a wise one. But it was not a necessary condition of the Church's unity. It served the purpose of binding the choceses in a union of amity, and promoted their efifieiency as propagandists of the faith on this continent and elsewhere. It thus accomplished a holy mission. And while we, with hearts filled with soi'row, lament the uprising of the influences which have checked it in its blessed work, we yet cannot allow that its presence or its absence is material to the unity of the Church. The destruction of this constitutional bond, while it may be lamented, carries not with it the destruction of the oneness of the body of Christ; the elements of which that consists are of a higher and more enduring nature.

Of the support we shall find in the history of the Church universal in its first and present ages for the action of our diocese in accepting and maintaining, if need be, an independent position, it is not necessary here to speak. The normal condition of the dioceses of the Catholic Church is that of separate independence. A departure from that condition has ever been the fruit of expediencj' only.

Under the promptings of this expediency, I have, as thb senior hishop of the dioceses in the Confederate States, in conjunction with the Bishop of Georgia, next in seniority, ventured to address a circular to our brother bishops in the Confederate States, to be by them laid before their respective conventions, in\'iting them to unite in a convention to be held in Montgomery, Ala., on the 3d of July next; the convention, when held, to be composed of the bishops of the several dioceses in these States, and of three clerical and three lay delegates. The object of this convention is to consult upon such matters of interest to the Church as have arisen out of the changes in our civil affairs, with the view of securing uniformity and harmony of action.

I have heard from several of the dioceses, and there is reason to beheve that the measure will meet with general favor. A letter just received by me from the Bishop of Texas informs me that his diocese, at its late convention, accepted the invitation and elected the requisite delegates.

T have noAv respectfully to submit to you, my brethren, the proposal to unite on this measure. It cannot but be regarded as one of prudence and wisdom. And I humbly trust it may lead to such action as may secure to us all the fi-eedom necessary to diocesan efficiency and all the union which is demanded for the wisest application of oui* energies and resoui'ces.

REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE ON THE STATE OF THE CHURCH.

The Committee on the State of the Church beg respectfully to report that there is great cause for gratitude to Almighty God for the continued prosperity of the Church in this diocese. The large number of new parishes admitted into union with the present convention, and the number of confirmations, greater by one third than in any previous year, are evident proofs that the hand of God is with us, and that the cause of Zion is prospering within our borders.

But the shortness of the time allowed, and the importance of the matters faUing under their consideration, compel the committee to dismiss with these remarks the subjects commonly embraced in the report they are required to make, and which in general relate exclusively to the internal operations of the Chui-ch. The state of the Church imphes as well the state of her relations to the Chm-ch at large as the condition of her ordinary operations. Therefore the committee feel themselves obhged to lay formally before the convention what they conceive to be the true relation to the whole body of Christ's Church Catholic, and particularly to that branch of it to which we lately belonged — the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America — a duty which is forced upon us by the fact that Louisiana has within the last year separated from the nationality of which she previously formed a part, and has joined with other sovereign States in forming a new nation, to which she and we, her citizens, to-day owe our allegiance. The simple question which we have to meet is, whether any change in our relations, as a Church, to the Church in the United States is, or of right ought to be, involved in the change of national relations which has taken place. In answering this {|uestion, the committee ask to be indulged in stating brieliy the i-easons which have prevailed in bringing them to the conclusion they feel bound to lay before the convention. A brief synoptical form Avill probably be found

the best, as the deficiencies in mere detail can readily be supplied by the learning of the members of the convention.

1. The diocese of Louisiana, like every other diocese, is an integral portion of the One Catholic and Apostolic Church, in the unity of As-hich she cannot cease to be embraced but by lapsing into heresy or schism; for the unity of the Catholic Church is unity in tnie faith and apostolic order. Holding the Catholic faith, and having an apostolic ministry rightly and duly administering Christ's holy sacraments, this diocese possesses all that is essential to her being as a true and valid member of the One Church Cathohc and Apostolic. With these she would have been truly in the luiity of the Church, though she had never been conjoined with any other dioceses in a iinion such as that which forms the Protestant Episcopal Chm-ch in the United States of America ; and having these, though in the matter of her govei'nment she should by circumstances be dissevered from every other diocese, her catholicity must still be perfect, and the Church's unity in her regard imbroken. Acknowledging "One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism" with the Universal Church, there is between her and all other churches '' unity of spirit" in the apostoHc ''bond of peace." This unity no mere political or national disturbances or revolutions can destroy, and this bond cannot be impaired by any changes among States or Nations.

2. Unions among chui'ches are altogether different from the imity of the Church. The unity of the Church is unity in beheving and doing all that God has taught, and therefore, as a matter of divine precept, is eternal in its obU-gation; while unions of churches are voluntary combinations for purposes of practical expediency, and therefore may be changed whenever soimd expediency requires that they should be dissolved.

3. And it does not appear that in the days of the apostles, or for some time afterward, any combinations between dioceses were formed. It does not appear that under apostohc direction Ephesus — with its Bishop Timothy — or Crete — with its Bishop Titus — was formally conjoined with any other

APPENDIX TO (JllAPTEli VII. 'Ml

dioceses. Ou the contrary, it appears, from the tenor of Holy Scripture and the testimony of ancient authors, that every diocese was originally independent of every other.

4. When, for reasons of expediency, unions among dioceses were entered into, it was by free consent among the parties to them. Considerations of convenience required them to be hmited in their extent; and, at first of choice, afterward by the decrees of councils, they were made coextensive with the divisions of the empire which had been established by the civil power. In every province the senior bishop or the senior Church was allowed a certain precedence over the others, and out of this grew first the metropolitical and afterward the patriarchal arrangements of the Church.

5. At the disruption of the Roman Empire, the provincial distribution of the Church was merged into the national. Bishops and dioceses in every nation, being drawn together by the influence of national affinity, combined for the common benefit, and chiefly for the sake of hturgical uniformity, in forming churches conterminous in jurisdiction with the nations to which they owed temporal allegiance.

G. It was with the element of nationality in churches that the papacy had most to contend, and side by side with the suppression of this principle we find the constant growth of papal usui'pations and corruptions.

7. It was natm-al, therefore, that the Church, when reformed, should resume that of which Rome had robbed her; and the fact is that the articles and canons of our mother Church of England show her to l^e intensely national. Hei-Articles of Subscription are such that she requires her clergy to deny the existence in any foreigner of any power or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual, within the realm of England or any of her dependencies.

8. Hence the clergy of the United States after the Revolution, haAdng ceased to be subjects of the crown, ceased also t(j be clergy of the Church of England; so that the independence of the churches in the colonies was of necessity included in the independence of the colonies themselves.

:m APPENDIX TO CHAPTEM VII.

aud the dioceses into which thej' were distributed, combined to form a ("hui'ch as strictly national as that of England. After a carefid study of her constitution and canons, this committee cannot forbear an*iving at the determinate conclusion that they are of such a nature as to exclude from her any diocese wliose territory may have ceased to be a portion of the United States.

(«) Her corporate style and designation is such as clearly to define her teiiitorial limits. She is the Protestant Episcopal Church IN THE United States of America. Her boundaries are those of the United States, beyond which she does not seek to include any other churches whatsoever.

(6) By the Fiftli Article of her constitution, the implication involved in her corporate designation is defined in terms. By that article the admission of dioceses into union with the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America is limited to dioceses formed, or to be formed, within the States or Territories of that country; so that none can constitutionally be admitted which do not lie ten-itorially within her boundaries. It is evident that that which is an indispensable condition of admission to union with her, must be indispensable to continuance in that union. Consequently, when the State in which our diocese is situated ceased to form a part of the United States, that condition failing on our part, we ceased, ipso facto, to retain that formal union with her of which territorial position within the United States is an m-dispensable condition. Had the Church in Florida, Louisiana, or Texas been as pei'fectly formed and fiirnislied as at present, they coidd not, previously to the annexation of those States to the United States, liave been admitted, under this article, to imion with the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States. They were admitted, because, at the time of their apphcation, those States lay within the boxmdaries of the United States. Having now ceased to lielong to the United States, a fair constructiim of the article requires us to hold them removed beyond the jurisdiction of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States.

(c) But had any doubt been possible under Article Fifth

of the constitution, that doubt would be removed by the express terms of Article Tenth. The Confederate States of America form a country foreign to the United States, and on failure of the episcopate in any of them, were we to look to the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States for its continuance, the facts of the case would require application to be made, not in the manner heretofore open to us, but as is required by Article Tenth of the constitution, in which special provision is made for the consecration of bishops, not for foreign churches, but for foreign countries. By this article such bishops so consecrated would not be eligible to the ofiice of diocesan or assistant bishop in any diocese of the United States, nor entitled to a seat in the House of Bishops, nor could they lawfully exercise any episcopal authority in those States. In other words, as bishops of a foreign country, they could not be, nor become, bishops of the United States, — a constitutional provision evidently reaching to bishops now in this position as well as to those who might thus, by possibility, be placed in it. Our bishops are now bishops of a country foreign to the United States, and cannot, therefore, ))y her own constitution, be any longer regarded as bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States.

{d) If anything were yet wanting to confirm the view that the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States is most distinctively and strictly national, it might be fully suppUed from the canon law of the Church with respect to foreign and domestic missionary bishops. (See Title I, Canon 13, Section 7, Clauses 1 and 5; also Section 8, Clauses 1 and 2, of the same canon.) The domestic missionary bishop whose jurisdiction lies within the States or Territories of the United States is entitled to a seat in the House of Bishops, from which the foreign missionary bishop is excluded. The former, moreover, is eligible to the episcopate of a vacant diocese in the United States; the latter is inehgible but with the consent of three fourths of the bishops, clergy, and laity of the Church in general convention assembled. Thus of two bishops elected and consecrated in the same way and by

the same parties, aud governed by the cauons of the same convention, the one, because bis jurisdiction lies within the United States, is invested witli the rig'ht of voice and vote in the convention by which he is governed, besides other important privileges from which the other is excluded, for no other reason than that he is called to exercise his functions in a foreign land.

From all these considerations, aud others too numerous to be embraced in the limits of this report, the committee feel themselves compelled to the conclusion that, whereas the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America is, and was rightly intended to be, a strictly national body, into which the diocese of Louisiana was admitted because at the time of her admission the State of Louisiana fonned a portion of the United States; and whereas Louisiana has dissolved the union formerly existing between her and the United States, and so has separated from that nation, therefore the dioc«se of Louisiana has ceased to belong to the national Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America. And whereas the State of Loiiisiana has entered into a new confederacy, and is now part of a new nation, therefore as the highest expediency has, from very early times, prompted such confederations among adjacent dioceses of the Catholic Church as might advance the common welfare; and as nature and experience, no less than the highest prudence, teach that such confederations should be national, like that in the United States, therefore this diocese, in the opinion of this committee, ought, in the exercise of that liberty wherewith Christ hatli made us free, to take such steps as may be necessary to the formation of a national Protestant Episcopal Church in the Confederate States of America.

It is needless, after what has been pre\'iously said, that the committee should declare that so far as Louisiana is concerned, the unity of the Chm-eh is tmbroken; nor need the committee frame new words to express the never-failing love which every member of this diocese must always have for our bretln-en of the Church in the Ignited States. We

prefer, in this connection, to adopt the words of our Right Reverend Father, as we find them in his pastoral letters. They represent the cherished sentiments of every chui'chman in the diocese:

" It is our happiness to know that in canvassing the sum of the political grievances of which we have complained, we find no contribution made to it by brethren of our own household. Oui" Church in the non-slaveholding States, as everywhere, has been loyal to the constitution and the laws. Her sound conservative teaching and her well-ordered organization have held her steadily to her proper work, and she has confined herself simply to preaching and teaching the gospel of Christ. Surrounded by a strong pressure on every side, she has successfully resisted its power, and has refused to lend the aid of her conventions, her pulpits, and her presses to the radical and unscriptural propagandism which has so degraded Christianity and plunged our country into its unhappy condition.

" In withdrawing ourselves, therefore, from all political connection with the union to which oui* brethren belong, we do so with hearts filled with sorrow at the prospect of its forcing a termination of our ecclesiastical connection with them also, and that we shall be separated from those whose intelligence, patriotism, Chiistian integrity and piety we have longlaiown, and for whom we entertain sincere respect and affection.

" Om' separation from our brethren of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States has been effected because we must follow our nationality. Not because there has been any difference of opinion as to Christian doctrine or catholic usage. Upon these points we are still one. With lis it is a separation, not division, certainly not alienation. And there is no reason why, if we should find the union of our dioceses under one national Church impracticable, we should cease to feel for each other the respect and regard with which purity of manners, high principle, and a manly devotion to truth never fail to inspire generous minds."

It remains, then, only that the committee should present this most important subject for the action of the convention in the form of resolutions.

RESOLUTIONS.

Whereas, The Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America is, and was rightly intended to be, a strictly national body, not admitting into union with it dioceses situated in foreign countries;

And ivhereas, The State of Louisiana has by ordinance dissolved the union formerly existing between it and the United States of America, thereby making the State of Loiusiana foreign to the United States; therefore,

Resolved, That the Diocese of Louisiana has ceased to be a diocese of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America.

Bid ivhereas, The universal experience of the Catholic Church has from a very early time shown the necessity of such local combinations among dioceses as might advance the common welfare;

And u-hereas, Reasons of the highest expediency demand that the Church in this respect should follow the nationaUties which in the order of Divine Providence may be raised up; therefoi'e,

Resolved, That the Diocese of Louisiana, loyal to the doctrine, discipline, and example of the holy Catholic Chvireh, and closely following the model of our mother Church of England and of our sister dioceses in the United States, is desirous of entering into union with the remaining dioceses of the Con-fedei-ate States for the formation of a national Protestant Episcopal Church in the Confederate States of America.

Resolved further, That this convention will appoint delegates to represent the diocese in a convention of the Pi-otestant Episcopal Church in the Confederate States of America, to be held at Montgomery, in the State and Diocese of Alabama, on the third day of July next.

All which is respectfully submitted.

{Signed.) C. S. Hedges, D.D. George S. Guion.

W. T. Leacock, D.D. Henry Johnsox.

Dak'l S. Lewis, D.D. Alex. Montgomery. John Fulton. W. J. Lyle.

On motion of Dr. J. P. Davidson, the report of the committee was received, and the eonventiou proceeded to the consideration of the resokitions therein proposed for adoption. The resolutions were then, on motion of the Rev. John Fulton, seconded by Dr. Lyle, severally put, and, without amendment, carried.

CHAPTER VIII.

LEONIDAS POLK AGAIN A SOLDIER. LIay to July, 1861.

The war crisis following secession. — Men of all professions drawn into the southern Army. — The defenses of the Mississippi. — orrespond-ence with Mr. Davis. — Soldierly qualities. — Anecdote. — Trip to Virginia. — Tour of the camps. — Divine services and confirmation. — Visit to Bishop Meade. — Military service proposed. — Mr. Davis offers c definite command. — The proposal urged by a delegation from the Mississippi Valley. — Albert Sidney Johnston. — Commissioned as major-general in the provisional army. — Patriotic motives in accepting. — A matter of con.science. — Approval of Bishop Meade and others. — Letter to Mrs. Polk. — Letters to Bishop Elliott. — Promise of an early return to Church work. — Sword and gown anecdote. — Bishop Polk's high estimate of the episcopal dignity. — Anecdotes.-The bishopric not resigned, but its duties laid aside whUe in the army. — Aid in diocesan work from Bishops Otey, Elliott, and Lay. — The priestly function. — Views of Churchmen on Bishop Polk's entering the army generally favorable. — Strong expressions of approval and esteem from Bishops Meade, EUiott, Otey. and others. — Letter from Bishop Hopkins. — Letter to Dr. John Fulton. — Commission resigned. — Letter to Mr. Davis; to General A. S. Johnston. — Reply from Mr. Davis; from Mr. Mem-minger; from Bishop Meade : from Bishop Otey. — Extract from Bishop Otey's diary. — Re.signation withdrawn and again forwarded. — Remonstrances by Mr. Davis and others. — Summary view.

Duriu£c the early months of 1861 the polemies of tongue and pen were rapidly ehan2:ing at the South to the polemies of the sword. Before secession became an accomplished act there were, among representative Southern men and among the people, radical differences of opinion, based upon ])()li<'y and sentiment, as to the

;iii

proposed separation. When the swift march of events had shown that the sectional debate, which had been growing in intensity and bitterness for half a century, was to be argvied out in the foriim of war, snch differences were swept into the limbo of dead issues. After the Provisional Congress had met in Montgomery, all the best talent and experience of the seceding States, with rare exceptions, drifted, as by an impulse of necessity and of self-preservation, to the support of the Confederate Government.

The martial spirit was everywhere abroad. Men of all temperaments, of all previous opinions, and of all professions began to take arms. Political preferments and that leadership in civil affairs which southern men had hitherto sought with eagerness were no longer thought of. the post of duty and honor was felt to be in the army and at the front. The consideration even of military rank was set aside. Young men of the highest social position who had learned the manual of arms in the holiday volunteer corps were expected to carry their muskets and guard the trenches, and they went with alacrity. Upon men of military education or experience the call was even more peremptory. From cadets who could be assigned to drill recruits, to soldiers who were competent to command brigades and di\'isions, all who could give aid in setting the newly gathered armies in the field were eagerly sought, and were expected to accept command.

In such a crisis and in such an atmosphere it was impossible for a man of Bishop Polk's education and character to take sanctuary beliind the precedents which govern men of his sacred calling in quieter times. We have seen the promptness with which he had met the ecclesiastical crisis created bv the secession of Louisiana.

jiud the eariH'stnoss and force with which he had pressed upon President Buclianan the certainty that coercive measures ag^ainst the secedinii" States would precipitate a. hloody war. When the war he had foreseen had ]>eeii actually begun, he knew that i)ronipt and energetic measures of defense w'ere necessary to resist invasion ; and his military education and knowledge of the country enabled him to tell precisely where the defense of the South would be most difficult.

On the 14th of May he addressed a letter to President Davis on the exposed condition of the Valley States. At the outbreak of hostilities troops and arms had been hurried from all parts of the South to resist the Federal advance into Virginia; but to the eye of a soldier it was clear that a tremendous struggle for the possession of the Mississippi River must presently begin. Mr. Davis did not underestimate the importance of that great highway of commerce, nor the danger with which it was menaced, but he could do little more at that time than meet the necessities of preparation for the impending Virginia campaign. His reply was written a few days before the removal of the seat of government to Richmond.

Montgomery, Ala., May 22, 1861,

Dear Sir: Your kind letter of the 14th inst. has been received. Yoiu" solicitude for the defense and safety of the Mississippi Valley is natural; but I think it is in no present danger. An invasion will hardly be attempted at this season of the year. The people of the northwestern States have so great a di'ead of our climate that they could not be prevailed on to march against us. Even if they did, due precautions have been taken by sending guns to different positions deemed most favorable, and by assembling troops at Union City and Corinth to sustain the batteries on the river ar.f' meet any

column sent into the interior. It would gratify me very much to see you. Accept my thanks for pious wishes, and believe me Ever your sincere friend,

Jepfn. Davis. Et. Rev. Leonidas Polk.

Whether the appointment of Bishop Polk to a military command in the West had been suggested to President Davis before the date of this letter, the writer has no means of knowing. The expression of a desire to see the bishop may indicate that the subject was already under consideration, or it may mean simply that the President would be pleased to have a personal consultation with a prominent citizen of Louisiana, who was his personal friend, and who had been much consulted by the people on the military situation.

Throughout the lower Mississippi Valley, where the bishop was weU known to the whole people, either personally or by reputation, a desire that he should aid in the defense of their property and their homes began to be felt and expressed almost from the hour when the hope of peaceable secession was abandoned. It was no secret that his natural bent of mind and character was rather that of a soldier than of a priest, and that he had entered the ministry under a deep conviction of religious duty, not because the quiet life of a clergyman was more congenial to him than the arduous and stirring life of a soldier. His family connections and long residence in Tennessee, his travels far and wide in the extensive missionary jurisdiction of the Southwest, and his position as Bishop of Louisiana, had made him one of the best-known men in the States of the Confederacy bordering upon the Mississippi River; and, wherever known, Polk was recognized and rememlx'red as possessing the qualities (if a natural leader. The inipressioii he made on

casual and very humble acquaintances was remarkable; and an anecdote which was current during the war goes far to illustrate the origin of the instinctive popular confidence in his fitness for high mihtary command. Traveling on horseback in one of his episcopal \'isitations, he stopped for the night at a country inn, when his host at once addressed him as " General."

"No, my friend," said Polk, "you are mistaken j I am not a soldier."

" Judge, then," hazarded the innkeeper.

" That is not the title given me by those who know me," rephed Polk, beginning to be amused.

" WeU, Bishop, then ! "

" Right," said Polk, laughing.

To whicli the other rejoined, " I knew you were at the head of your profession, whatever it was."

His habitual promptness and \dgor in action, his manifest conscientiousness and absolute fearlessness in the performance of duty, and a certain air of soldierly command that characterized his whole bearing, caused him to be noted from the fii-st as a man to whom his fellow-citizens must look for counsel and leadership in the dark and dangerous crisis into which they had been brought.

Visiting Sewanee in the month of 3Iay on business of the university, Governor Isham G. Hari'is of Tennessee requested him to go to President Davis at Richmond and ui-ge that prompt measures might be taken for the defense of the Mississippi Valley. Early in June he went to Richmond, partly, as he ^vrote to Bishop ElHott, " to see my young churchmen in the several Louisiana regiments all over Virginia," and partly, at the request of Governor Harris, to \asit President Davis and to use his knowledge and influence in completing the armament and equip-

lueni of the Tennessee troops. The following letter to Mrs. Polk was written at this time:

Richmond, Va., June 10, 1861. My dear Wife : I am quite well, and have had good reason to know that my visit here has been of decided use to om* cause in several important particulars. I have dined with Davis and members of his Cabinet, and have had full correspondence with him, in which I discussed matters pertainiug to our affairs with gi'eat freedom and fuUness. He has received me with great kindness and confidence, and I think the interview will not be otherwise than productive of good results. He is the best man we could have, and commands general confidence. We want, and he wants, General A. S. Johnston badly. He has not yet arrived. I have had several interviews with General Lee. He is a highly accomphshed man. Johnston is expected shortly. Joe Johnston is at Harper's Ferry. John Magruder is at Hampton. Beauregard is at Manassas Gap; Garnet in NorthAvestern Virginia, toward Wheeling; Wise in the dh-ection of the Kanawha Valley. Davis" will take the field in person when the movement is to be made. I am doing what I can to serve Tennessee, and getting lier field-batteries, — wliich are of the first importance, ■ — and also helping in some other respects.

After a stay of eight or ten days in Richmond he visited Norfolk, Yorktown, Bethel Church, Manassas, Winchester, and the camps around Richmond, holding divine service for the soldiers and confirming not a few. He met many old friends from Louisiana and other States, and many officers who had resigned their commissions in the Federal Army; and all pressed him to take service with the Confederacy. In his visits to Mr. Davis to deliver (xovernor Harris's message and to renew the recommendations made in his own letter of lSh\\ 14th, he warndy urged that Albert Sidney Johnston was the fittest person to be entrusted with the Department- of

the West. But at that moment Johnston Avas on the Pacific Coast awaiting an opportunity to Ix'gin his famous journey across the desert from Los Angeles to the Rio Grande. Davis offered the command to Polk himself: but Polk declined, and shortly afterward Mr. Da\ds addressed to him the following friendly letter, renemng his proposal and stating the extent of the boundaries of the proposed command.

Mil dear Friend: Would it be affreenble to you, with the rank of brigadier-general, to have command of the land and water defenses of the Mississippi River above the mouth of Red River as far as our power may bear oiu- jurisdiction ? The department would include the river counties of INIississippi and Arkansas, the river parishes of Louisiana north of the Red River, and that part of West Tennessee west and south of the Tennessee River.

This letter was followed a few days later by a formal note from the President, urging Polk to accept the commission of major-general with substantially the same duties. A delegation of gentlemen from the Mississippi Valley, all of whom were personally acquainted with Polk, was then in Virginia asking for the immediate appointment of an officer to defend the river country, and unanimously urged liim to accept the President's appointment. Of the affair at this stage Bishop Polk gave the following account in a letter to i\Ii-s. Polk, dated Richmond, June 19th :

I find tlicre is a QVQAi wish on the part of my friends that I shouhl take part in this movement. The expression is very general, and the President has twice brought it before me. He is very desirous for me to accept a commission in the Confederate Army, and has urged many considerations for my compliance. A number of New Orleans people, seem to de-

sire it also, as well as many of my military friends. I have said I could give no answer to this now. No man is more deeply impressed with the paramount importance of our success in this movement, nor more filled with apprehension at the prospect of its failure; but what my duty may be 1 have not yet determined. I cannot ignore what I know; I cannot forget what I have learned j nor can I forget I have been educated by the country for its service in certain contingencies. Yet I feel the step to wliich I have been invited is one of the very gravest character in all its bearings all the way around, and I am not going to decide it hastily. Whatever may be the result, I liope I may be guided from on High in determining, and I trust, in any event, I may be permitted to see my way clear before me.

On the 22d of June the delegation from the Mississippi Valley returned to Richmond after a visit to the military stations in Virginia, and renewed their petitions to Polk. The question of entering the army had then been definitely before him for a week. Believing the cause of the South to be a righteous one, he never for a moment doubted that to draw the sword in its defense would be consistent with his vows to the Church. On the contrary, his letters of this period contain ample evidence that he felt that duty required him to do so if his services were really needed. This was the one question to which he prayerfully sought a true answer, and on which he took advice. All the rest lay between him and his God. Upon the right or the wrong of the step, as a matter of conscience, he never consulted any man. Reserving the final decision to himself, he conferred A\nth judicious friends in the Church and in the civil and military service of the Confederacy; and he came to the conclusion that, under all the circumstances, he could not stand excused in his own judgment and conscience if he were to decline. In making his decision known to

Mr. Davis, ho said that lie would gladly he excused from the arduous and responsible task set before him; but that if another, better qualified, could not be found, he would not shrink from it. His commission as major-general was issued on the 25th of June, 1861, and a few days later he set out to take command of his department, with headquarters in Memphis.

In the following letters to Mrs. Polk and Bishop Elliott he narrates what had occurred between the 19th and the 22d of June, gives an account of a visit to Bishop Meade, and tells his own feelings in consenting to enter

the army.

Richmond, June 22,1861.

My beloved Wife: I wrote you a few days ago from this place; I hope you received my letter. Since writing, I have been to Manassas Junction, and to the Valley of Virginia, near Winchester. I have also spent a day with Bishop Meade at his house near Millwood.

I told you in my last letter that I had been urgently soUcited by many persons of consideration to lend the aid of ray influence — my name and personal services — to this great cause. These soUcitations have been extended and widened, and many pleasant sayings reach me from my old friends and others in liigh station as to the importance of allowing myself to take part, actively, in this — as they say — all-impoi-tant movement. I dare not write what is said of their estimate of my capacity to serve the country in this emergency, nor is it at all necessary.

You know my heart is in it, and that I would do an>i;hiiig that was not ivrong to serve it; and yet I beheve I have a low estimate of my ability, and should fear to attempt what I could not well execute — supposing all that was questionable as to the propriety of the matter out of the way. As to the latter phase of the question, I had a long talk with Bishop Meade. His reply was, under all the cu-eumstances of the case, taking my education, history, and natural character into the accoimt, he could not condemn it. He was not expected to

advise it. Since writing you last, a deputation of gentlemen have arrived from the Valley of the Mississippi, sent by a large meeting held there, to ask the President to appoint a military commander to the charge of that region. These gentlemen have come to me, and unanimously ui-ged upon me to aUow myself to be appointed to that office.

This they did before I left town three days ago. I have just returned to town, and they have been after me again. I have now had this matter before me a week, and have thought and prayed over it, and taken counsel of the most judicious of my friends, and I find my mind unable to say No to this call, for it seems to be a call of Providence. I shall, therefore, looking to God for his guidance and blessing, say to President Davis that I wiU do what I can for my country, om- hearth-stones, and our altars, and he may appoint me to the office he proposed. And may the Lord have mercy upon me, and help me to be wise, to be sagacious, to be firm, to be merciful, and to be filled with all the knowledge and all the gi-aces necessary to qualify me to fill the office to his glory and the good of men. I shall see President Davis this evening and shall leave for Maury next week.

We shall have an attack on Alexandria next week, also a battle in the neighborhood of York shortly. Everybody is in good spirits and filled with resolution to free our country of the invader.

Affectionately yours,

L. Polk.

Richmond, June 22, 1861. My dear Elliott: I have been in Virginia about a fortnight; came to see my young churchmen in the several Louisiana regiments all over Virginia. I have visited Norfolk, Yorktown, Bethel Church, Manassas, and Winchester, also the camp near the city. Louisiana has turned out about 12,000, and they are the flower of our youth; a fine, gallant set of fellows they are, of wdiom I feel proud. I came also to assist in completing the armament of Tennessee, at the instance of Governor Harris. This latter

work, so far as field-artillery (their greatest need) is considered, is now pretty well complete. >Say to Hettiei that the old North State has got through with her thinking, and, as I promised, has gone to working, and the Bethel affair, which, by the way, was conducted in chief part by two Mecklenburg companies, is but an earnest of the sort of work she is to do when she gets wide awake.

I have just returned from a visit to old Father Meade. We talked over everything connected with Church and State. He is right, wonderfully right, all the way round. I was dehghted with him. He is a regular old Roman, and is quite ready to be southern all through. He is for a downright good fight, and wants the enemy to feel the weight of our arm. He is for no half-way measures, and so was veiy refreshing. His clerg>', too, are of the same view.

None of the delegation from Virginia will feel at hberty to leave home for ^Montgomery on account of the war. The convention must meet and adjourn. I fear I cannot be at the convention. The North seems bent on oven-unning the country and sponging us out at all hazards. I find many of my friends in and out of the Church, and in and out of my diocese, pressing me to take military serxice. The President, Davis, also, has again and again called my attention to it, and proposed it. At last, he has in a foitnal manner adch'essed me a note urging the acceptance of the office of major-general, to be charged with the water and land defenses of the Mississippi River, ft-om our upper boundary down to the mouth of Red River. All this has embaiTassed me not a little, and this embarrassment has been increased to-day by the appearance in Richmond of a committee of gentlemen from the Valley of the Mississippi, who came to ask Davis for some one to take charge of its defenses. They are all known to me, and have united in urging this appointment upon me. The matter has been before me for a week. I have consulted some judicious friends in and out of the Chm'ch. among them old Father Meade. He says as a general rule he could not sanction it, but that all rules have exceptions,

1 A daughter of Bishop Elliott.

and, taking all things into consideration as they relate to the condition of the country and myself personally, he could not condemn my coui'se if I should accept the appointment. I wanted a view of the matter from his standpoint. The decision I reserved for myself. Under all the circumstances I cannot see how I could stand excused in my own judgment and conscience in decUning it. I have therefore told Davis that while I should be glad to be excused from the responsibility, still, if he can find no one who could perform the work he desires to have done better, I will not shrink from it, notwithstanding an unfeigned difiidence of my capacity to do it as it should be done.

/ believe most solemnly that it is for Constitutional liberty, which seems to have fled to us for refuge, for our hearth-stones, and our altars that we strike. I liope I shall be supported i)i the work and have grace to do my duty.

As to my diocese, I have, of course, not had time to consult it, nor would I have done so if I had. This is such a case as I should, I think, decide for myself. I shall not resign my charge of it, but shall write them that I have undertaken this ivork because it seemed the duty next me, a duty I trust God will allow me to get through with without delay, that I may return to chosen and usual work. My beloved brother, let me have the benefit of your prayers, that I may be preserved and supported. Write me also to Memphis all that you tliink of the matter. That, for some time to come, will be my headquarters. I shall decline acting as agent for the university; while the war lasts, I can do nothing, and do not, in that case, think it right to hold the ofiice.

Our future is in God's hands: let us be content to leave it with him, and hope he may let us see more of each other in the future.

Mr. Davis perfectly understood the spirit in which Polk accepted the duty which had been thrust upon him, as the following extract from a letter from Mr. Davis to the writer very clearly shows:

I have said your father was raj' esteemed friend; l)ut I will add I not only honored and held liira in the highest estimation. — I loved him. With such relation you will not be sui-prised at my solicitude that the "history of his military career," which you inform me is being written, should be so full as to do justice to his services and noble character. As he told me, when I tendered him a commission, it was amor pro aris et focis; like a Christian he entered on a patriot's duty.

Profound satisfaction at the step Polk had taken was felt and expressed on all sides. In humorous allusion to Polk and General Gideon Pillow, the Tennesseans said that they were safe now, since they had the " sword of the Lord and of Gideon " to defend them. As he was descending the steps of the Capitol at Richmond a gentleman of his acquaintance stopped him to eongi-atulate him on his ''promotion.'' '-Pardon me,"' said Polk gravely; '' I do not consider it a promotion. The highest office on earth is that of a bishop in the Church of God." Another friend half seriously exclaimed to him, " What! you, a bishop, throw off the gown for the sword! " " No, sir," was the instant reply, " I buckle the sword over the gown." In this laconic phrase the sentiment and purpose of the bishop in taking arms as a soldier were truly as well as felicitously expressed; and they were never changed. Only a few days before he fell on Pine Mountain, he said to a friend, " I feel like a man whose house is on fii-e, and who has left his business to put it out. As soon as the "svar is over I shall return to my proper calling."

It is to be remembered that when Polk took service it was distinctly to meet the temporary emergency for which the "provisional army" under his command was organized. He consented to command it only until a suitable successor could be fomid; and he had the ex-

plicit promise of the President that he should be released from service at the earliest possible time. From first to last he regarded his military occupation as a painful interrujjtion of his sacred labors in the ministry; but so long as it 2>lc'ased divine Providence to continue that interruption, he considered it his duty to devote himself exclusively to "the work that lay next him." For the in-esent, therefore, while he was intensely interested in the progress of ecclesiastical affairs, he took no personal part in directing them. On the 22d of June, before his commission was issued, but after he had consented to accept it, he wrote to Bishop Elliott that he would not be able to attend the convention which was about to meet at Montgomery, and which he and Elliott had done so much to promote. In the circumstances which had arisen, the convention must do what it might find to do without him. For him, he said, there was now " sterner work on hand." He provided for the care of his people l)y accepting the brotherly offers of Bishops Elliott, Otey, and Lay to visit his parishes; and so, committing his flock to the care of Almighty God and faithful brethren, he applied himself to the woi-k to which he firmly believed that God had specially called him. Thencefor. ward, until his death, he exercised no episcopal function or jurisdiction; and he felt it to be right to abstain from all functions w^hich are pecuhar to the sacred ministry. Therefore, while the influence of his Christian example was deeply felt by his associates and by the armies under his command, there were only four occasions on which he permitted himself to officiate as a priest. One of these was at the death-bed of the gallant Major Edward Butler, who fell at Belmont; his second clerical act was to perform the wedding ceremony at the marriage of General John Morgan ; the third, performed

within a montli of his dcatli, was the l)ai)ti8ni of General Hood; and the fourtli was the l)aptisni of General Joe Johnston a few days later.

If General Polk did not exercise the jurisdiction of a I'ishop, and if lie thoii<^lit it proper to abstain from other functions of the niinistr}', it was not of voluntary choice, but from a sense of fitness. His heart was with his peo-l)le, his best affections went out to his brethren of the ministry. As the days grew into months, and months into years, his love for them grew only stronger. Thus, on May 4,1863, he wrote to Bishop Elliott:

Headquarters, PolkVs Corps, May 4, 1863.

Mij dear Elliott: Dr. Quintard goes to the meeting of the council, and I write by him. How I should like to be with you! — but I cannot yet. Quintard will tell you how things are with us. and how we long to see you and coinmime with you and our dear brethren generally; but we canuot yet. And yet what a rehef it would be! Can you not come and see me ? My feet are fast in the stocks, and I cannot get to see you! I tliink, too, you might do gi'eat good by coming. Come up and preach for us, and visit us, and administer the communion to us, and confirm oiu' young people and old. You cannot spend a week or so more profitably. Come and bring Wdmer with you and "refresh our bowels"; for we many times feel gi'eatly the need of such refreshing.

Something should be done for the children of the Church in the army ; very little or nothing is being done. Can you not send us some clei'gymen ? I am amazed that so few are found willing to labor in such a cause. What higher or holier could they ask ?

I fear our brother Otey is approaching his last days. I hear he is in bed and cannot well get out again. But I had rather talk with you than write you, so come and let us see you face to face.

I think you and Wilmer, who are both so near us, might come and see " how we do."

Nevertheless, the unusual, though surely not unpi-eee-dentecl, step of a bishop "buckling the sword over the gown " could not but call forth criticism. At the North it was unsparingly condemned, of course; but even at the North there were those who could do justice to the man while deeply regretting the course he had thought it right to take. Thus, after Polk's death, the venerable Hopkins, Presiding Bishop of the Church in the United States, wrote in these terms to Mrs. Polk:

I deeply regretted your dear husband's act in accepting- a general's commission in the army ; but I never doubted that he was governed by the purest conscientious desire to do what he regarded as his duty to God and to his country The spirit of a Christian martyr was an element in his lofty character, and while I could not have seen the case in the same light, I was well persuaded that he regarded his course as a sacrifice laid on the altar of truth, and went forth believing himself to be called to wield the sword of the Lord and of Gideon. To our beloved brethren in the South he has left a legacy of zeal and devotion never surpassed and rarely equaled in the whole range of human history. And the memory of his labors for the Church, and his sacrifices in the cause of independence, will be cherished in the hearts of thousands through future generations, after the false glory of worldly triumphs shall have passed away.

The southern bishops and other clergy were startled at fii'st at the news that the Bishop of Louisiana had accepted a military command, and not a few of them regretted it. But there was not one who doubted the unselfishness or the integrity of purpose by which he had been actuated, and it was not long before the gi^eat majority of them came to feel that for Leonidas Polk to have taken any other course would have been nearly or quite an impossibility. A quaint letter from Bishop

Meade of Virginia expresses a state of mind wliicli Avas very general in August, 1861:

I see it has gotten into the northei-n papers that you came to see me on the subject of accepting office in the army, and that I said you were ah-eady in high office in the army of the Lord, the Church; but that the result was your acceptance; leaving the impression, either that you felt bound to engage in the war, or that I was not much opposed, or both. This is, I presume, about the right conclusion. Ever since you left me I have felt a strong interest in the movement; and now that you are actually in the field, I feel an earnest desire to hear of all your movements, and of the state of things in that part of our country in which you are appointed as a home guard on a most extensive scale. 1 wish you woidd once a week just drop me a line about your movements and prospects. A few moments will answer for this, and ^yill afford me much relief and satisfaction.

Bishop Elliott expressed the same Adew as that taken by Bishop Meade. "My opinion," he said, "coincides very much mth that of Bishop Meade, that, as a general thing, it was inexpedient, but in your particular case, and under the circumstances of our western country, very defensil^le. I am jealous for you with a great jealousy, and shall watch for you with great vigilance and love." Among the clergy in general much the same feeling prevailed. Whatever any one might think of the abstract question of the clergy taking armSj no one pretended to blame Polk or to pronounce judgment upon him. All sorts of letters were poured in upon him expressing the mingled admiration and perplexity of the writers. One correspondent frankly declared that the rei)ort had " taken his breath away," but added that after rejection lie had been convinced of the moi-al heroism of the step that had been taken, and closed his letter Avith

the expression of a regret that the lack of a military education should prevent his following Polk's example ! The warm-hearted Dr. Leacock, rector of Christ Church, New Orleans, confessed to an amusing inward conflict between his conviction that Polk must have been right and a fear that he might have been carried away by the impetuosity — "Polkism," Leacock called it — of his fervent nature, and he said, " The whole cannonade of the North could not have shaken me more than the announcement of your course, but I stood the fire because I had confidence in my leader." As time passed, all these discussions ceased, and from all sides Polk was cheered by communications breathing nothing but affectionate admiration. After a time Bishop Meade defended his action " against all objections, as an exception to a general rule, imperiousl}^ demanded by the emergencies of the country." Bishop Ote}^, of Tennessee, was one of those, as his daughter wi-ites, who " always upheld and justified Bishop Polk for the step he took in becoming a soldier." He visited Polk at Columbus, and while there made the following entry in his diar}': '' I slept with G(^neral Polk last night, and had much interesting and gi-atifyiug conversation with him, especially concerning his i)osition and his earnest desire to be relieved from it. We had sweet communion in prayer morning and night. He stands higher in my esteem than ever." And later on, when almost crushed by the miseries of his people, exiled from home, and slowly sinking into his grave, he wrote to Polk under date of July 15, 1862 :

My dear Brother: I have endeavored to be with you daily and nightly in spirit, invoking God's protection in all dangers, his guidance in all difficulties, his support under all your

trials, his grace to comfort you in all your sorrows. I can do no more. What a pleasui*e it will be to see your face once more.

But Elliott, the l)rother of his heart, was his ino.st constant correspondent, and Elliott voiced the feeling of all his brethren. On October 3,18G1, he wrote:

"We have been most anxiously watching events in your part of the military field, and must say that you have exhibited more nei*ve and activity than has been displayed anywhere else. . . . Your letters, and especially your refusal to fall back from Columbus, have given us imfeigned dehght."

After the battle of Miul'reesboi'o, Bishop Elliott wrote

again: *

January 9, 1863. Most heartily do I thank God for the glorious victory, for the gallantry which distiuguished you, and for your personal safety. . . . We have been in a state of great tmnult for the last week over this battle and yourself. AU send you their warmest love and admiration. . . . And now, my more than brother, may God have you in his holy care and keeping; may he watch over and guard you and yours, and preserve you unharmed througli this cruel war: and may we often meet over peaceful firesides to recall the hoiTors of this period, and to thank God for all his mercies toward us. I have come to this new year, and so have you, with an unbroken circle, and we of all men shoidd be most thankful, for we have had representatives upon almost every battlefield.

While Polk was not a man to be moved from what he held to be his duty by the censure of others, he was deeply gi*atiiied by the approval of men whom he esteemed, and he was anxious to be understood by them. He was particidarly anxious that it should be known that he was only meeting an emergency, and that in

taking a command he had not been dazzled by dreams of military glory, but had simply accepted what he believed to be an imperative, though exceptional, duty. To one of his j'ounger clergy who had been his assistant rector, and had succeeded him as rector of Trinity Church, New Orleans, and who had WTitten him on December 25, 18G1, he returned the following reply:

Columbus, Ky., February 4, 1862, My dear Fulton: I have received your kind letter of Christmas Day, and have not had a moment I could call my own to reply to it before.

I thank you for the cordial sympathy and confidence it breathes. Such things — and I am glad to say I have had many such — are a great cordial to the soul, and help to support one in the discharge of duty. My life is one of unceasing toil and anxiety. The work I do is without intermission, and aU indispensable. How I stand up under it is a matter of surprise to many, not less than myself. But I have been wonderfully sustained. I took the office only to fill a gap, — only because the President, as he said, could find no one to whom he could with satisfaction devolve its duties. I have always regai'ded myself as a locum tencns, and have ever been desirous to have some one make his appearance, of competent ability, and with a commission to relieve me. As yet I have waited in vain for the man to take my post and let me return to my cherished work. I have labored as though I regarded my employment as permanent, while I have been encouraged and promised it shoidd ))e terminated "as soon as practicable," and if the relief cannot be found, I shall go on, by God's blessing, with fidelity to the end. I hope you are all getting on well with your flocks. I think of you all and carry you in my heart with earnest remembrance day by day. May the good Lord take care of you all. I have asked Bishops Otey and Lay to make a visitation of the chui-ches of my diocese for me, and hope they meij do so. I have written the Standing Connnittee to that effect.

Give my love to all the bretliren and the members of your ilock, and beUeve me, very ti'uly and faithfully,

Yours in Christ,

Leonidas Polk.

In his letter to Mr. Fulton, as in other letters, Leonidas Polk was at pains to express his strong desire to be relieved from his military charge and to return to his "cherished work." But he did not tell the steps he had already taken to secure relief, and he gave no hint that he was even then renewing his efforts to the same end. Before entering on the history of his campaigns, the present seems to be the proper place in Avliich to tell that part of his story.

On the appointinent of General Albert Sidney Johnston to the command of the Southwest in September, 1861, the necessity which had required Polk to enter the army seemed to have been removed. Johnston was a soldier of the highest reputation, of large experience, implicitly trusted by the government, and almost worshiped by the troops under his command. He Avas the friend of l\)lk's youth and the man whose appointment he had urged, in preference to all others, as the commander of that department. Polk felt, therefore, that the time had come when he might pr()i)erly resign his commission. Accordingly, as soon as he had finished some impoi-tant work in which he was engaged, he sent his resignation to the President. The letter is here given:

Headqu.\p.ters, 1st Division, Western Department,

Columbus, Ky., Nov. 6,1861.

Sir: Yoii will remember with what reluctance I consented

to accept the commission of major-jreneral in the provisional

army. You will remember also that the considerations in-

ducLngr my acceptance were the duty which I felt I owed the

country at whose hands I had received a military education, in connection with the diflSeulty of your finding a commander to whom you were willing to entrust the department you wished to assign to me. These considerations, supported by the conviction that "resistance to tyrants is duty to God," warranted my turning aside from employments far more congenial to my feelings and tastes, to devote myself for the time to the military service of the country.

I have been in that service now more than four months, and have devoted myseK with imtuing constancy to the duties of my ofl&ce, with what eflciency and success the country must judge.

Within the last few weeks you have been able to avail yourself of a distinguished militaiy commander, our mutual friend, who was not in the country at the date of my appointment, upon whom you have devolved, partly at my instance, the duties of the office I consented to fill.

It will be agreed, I believe, upon all hands, that a more judicious selection could not have been made, and that his military knowledge and experience will supply all that was needed. I have been wilUng to remain as second in command until the fortifications at Fort Pillow and at this very important point are completed. This has now been substantially accomplished, and I feel that, as the necessity which induced me to take office no longer exists, and as the other general officers with whom I have been associated are men of ability and experience, I may be permitted to retire and resume my former pursuits.

I beg leave, therefore, to tender to you my resignation of my commission as major-general of the provisional army of the Confederate States.

I remain, respectfully, your obedient servant,

L. Polk, Major-Gen. Commanding.

His Excellency, Jefferson Davis, President, C. S. A.

Polk's letter of resignation was written the day before lie fonght the battle of Belmont, which will he described

336 LETJEE TO GEXEIUL JOHNSTON. [1861

elsewhere. Two days after the battle he sent to General Johnston a copy of his letter of resignation enclosed in a personal letter, in whicli he full}- explained the motives Avhich had actuated him in accepting his commission, and which now prompted him to lay it down. He did not conceal his strong inclination to remain in the service to support his old friend in the performance of duty; but he contended that the necessity which had required his ser\ice no longer existed, and that his duty now requii-ed him to return to his appropriate work. His letter was as follows:

Headquarters, 1st Divisiox, Western Department. Columbus, November 9,1861.

My dear General: It is due to you to send you a copy of the accompanying letter whicli I have addressed and sent to President Davis. ]My turning aside from the path I have chosen, for the purpose of entering on the duties of the office I now fill, was, as I told you in one of our conversations, not a matter of my own seeking, but the prompting of our firieud, the President, and, as I have remarked in my letter to him, was done with great reluctance, the moving consideration being Ids inability to find one to wliom he was willing to on-trust the command of the Western Department. Yoxu- name being pi-esented by me to him, the reply was that you were not in the country; and I accepted to fill the gap. Many of my most judicious friends thought that in this I did an extreme thing; but, conscious of acting fi-om a sense of duty. I accepted the office.

When you an-ived and were appointed, I thouglit I might then be released; but as I had taken in hand some important defenses, I felt as if I might be useful to the country in seeing them completed first. This object ha\dng been now accomplished, and the particular necessity forming the excuse for my taking military service no longer existing, I have felt I was not at Uberty to continue to withdraw myself fi'om my other duties: and this, too, when there were so many men of

ability in the country, having no such obligations, who were free to engage in the duties I am now discharging. These views I have held to friends for some time past, and I feel the time has come when I may be permitted to retire. I am on many accounts strongly tempted to remain and continue to support you, and if my services were essential to the success of the army, I should feel my position one of extreme em-baiTassment; but, that not being by any means the case, T must claim the privilege of being guided by that sense of duty in retiring from the mihtary service which influenced me in accepting it, being persuaded you can find among the general officers under your command one who can fill my place far more satisfactorily than I do. I have asked, as you will see by this letter enclosed, the acceptance of my resignation of my commission. I remain,

Very truly your friend,

L. Polk, Major-Gen. Commanding.

Polk sent his resignation to President Davis by the hand of his son and aide-de-camp, Hamilton, who was instrncted to nrge its acceptance upon the President. But after the battle of Belmont it was simply impossible for President Davis to comply with his request. For the present, therefore, he refused, kindly and courteously but firmly, to entertain it, promising, however, to remember Polk's desire as soon as the w-elfare of the country should permit. The President's letter was as follows:

Richmond, Va., Nov. 12, 1861.

j\[jf dear Sir: 1 have the honor to acknowledge yours of November 6th, which I had the pleasure to receive from your son, and to reply that I think the present condition of the service imperiously demands your continuance in the army — at least vmtil there is such change as will justify me in substituting you by another.

I did not expect General Johnston to relieve you of your special charge, nor is it possil^le that he should do so. His

cominand embraces so great an extent of territory that its successful defense must mainly depend upon the efficiency of the di^dsion commanders. You are master of the subjects involved in the defense of the Mississippi and its contiguous temtory. You have just won a victory which gives you fresh claims to the affection and confidence of your troops. How should I hope to replace you without injury to the cause which you beautifully and reverently described to me, when you resolved to enter the military service, as equally that of our altars and our firesides?

Whilst oui' trust is in God as our shield, he requires of us that all human means shall be employed to justify us in expecting his favor. I must ask you, then, to postpone your resignation, and be assured that I will not forget your desire to resume your ftmctions as bishop of a diocese of the Church, and will be happy to gratify your wish as soon as the public welfare will permit.

Verj' respectfully your friend,

Jeffeesox Davis.

Major-Gexeral L. Polk.

By the same mail which carried Mr. Davis's letter above wiitten, Mr. Memminger, Confederate Secretary of the Treasury, wTote urging- General Polk to abandon Ills wish to retire from the army. His arguments could not fail to have weight with a man of Polk's high sense of Christian and patriotic duty.

RiCllMOXD, November 12, 1S61. Mij dear Bishop: I am much concerned at learning from the President your desu-e to resign your military' office. I have read your letters, and you will see from the President's reply that you are mistaken in supposing that General Johnston's ajipointment relieves the necessity cf your services. Permit me as a brother in the Lord to say that I think both you and I are just as much called and ordamed to the posts we occupy as the presbyter upon whom your hands are laid. The President is, in his high office, the minister of

God for the State; and when, in the discharge of his office, he calls npou you as best qualified to defend the altar of God and the homes of your peoy^le, it seems to me to become an indication of Providence. For myself, I have not been able to put aside such a call. I have never put your case to any conscientiovis layman in this respect that he did not approve and honor your 'course. Even the tribe of Levi, when Moses called for those on the Lord's side, took the sword and swept away the enemies of his authority; and when the silver trumpets were blown, the whole country came forth for defense, and the Lord was with the people, as I trust he is with us. I earnestly hope that you will feel it expedient to retain your command until a fitting successor can be found, and the strongest pro\T.dential indication is the fact that at present no one can take your place. I think there would be serious damage to the pubhc interests by devolving the command upon your subordinates; and now that the Lord has given you the late glorious victory, your influence is deservedly higher among the soldiers, and you will draw greater numbers to your banner. May God bless, dii-ect, and preserve you. Very truly yours,

T,r ni T T>^ , C. C. MEMMINGER.

Major-General L, Polk.

Mr. Memminger's appeal was supported by a letter from Bisliop Meade, in which Polk was assured of the confidence and approval of Ms brethren in the Church. Bishop M(?ade had recently laid his case before the President and had been told that General Polk could not be spared. Bishop Meade's letter is dated Millwood, November ir)th. His simple but vivid description of the condition of northern Virginia, and of the sacrifices made thus early in the war by the women and non-combatants in the .aid of the army were well calculated to stir the spirit of a soldier.

My dear Brother: On returning home, on the sick hst, a few days since, I found yotir esteemed favor of the 26th of

September, and being unable to go to church on this our fast (lay, T will oniploy a few moments of it in writing to you. [ had read and highly approved what you addressed to the public authorities, and have rejoiced with others in the belief that you have done good service in Tennessee, and elsewhere, by wise counsels. That you have contributed your pai't to the late victory, and have been preserved alive and unhurt, is a subject of thankfulness to your many friends. May you V)e spared and enabled to render yet more and greater service to our cause, which daily appears to be more just and important, and to have the blessing of God.

On my way to Columbia, early in October, when in Richmond, I called on President Davis and proposed to him this question: Whether in the changed circumstances of the army in the West, so many able generals having taken the field, you might not now be spared without injury to the cause? To this he emphatically replied in the negative, adding that there was a complication of circumstances requii-ing your continuance. I said that I would not have you withdraw if such were the case, and would justify your continuance to all the brethi-en whom I should meet at Columbia.

Your acceptance of the otiice I had defended before against all objections, as an exception to a general rule imperiously demanded by the emergencies of the country.

I stated the President's answer and my owm convictions to a number of the bishops and clergy at Columbia, and heard no objections, though I suppose there may have been some who doubted. Some of the northern papers, as was to be expected, condemned and anathematized; but they are not competent judges for us. The Church InteUigeneer of Noi*tli Carolina also condemned your course; but its defense of the proposition to change the name of our Church, and some other articles in it, against the view of Elliott and yourself as to the effect of secession, will weaken its effects in the South. ...

I am now in winter quarters, being laid up with a cold and cough which must keep me housed imtil spring. My days of labor nnist soon be numbered; and my old age. instead of

being peaceful and quiet, will be spent iu the midst of wars and rumors of wars. The enemy is again in the valley, about fifty miles from me, and threatening a nearer appi'oach, after having plundered corn, wheat, and cattle on the north and south branches of the Potomac — sending the same to Washington. We are preparing the militia, with some regulars, to drive them out, if practicable; but the demands at Manassas are so great, under the expectation of a great battle, and the necessity of a force at Leesburg to resist Banks's army in Maryland is such that we cannot get the forces which are desirable, if not indispensable. . . .

Our diocese is, of course, in a state of much affliction. Our seminary, high school. The Southern Churchman, and Alexandria are in the enemy's hands. Many of our clergy are driven from their congregations and liom^s. Ouj- candidates for the ministry are nearly all in the ranks, oiu- schools and colleges reduced to perhaps one tenth of their numbers. But still 1 hear not a word of complaint or doubt as to the vigorous prosecution of the war at whatever cost. Our females, young and old, are laboring diligently with their hands, knitting and sewing. Comforts of all kinds are poured in on our armies of sick ones. Not only are many famihes stripping themselves of blankets, but cutting up their carpets to make coverlets for the soldiers. On returning home, 1 found but one narrow slip in each of my rooms, and praised ray daughter for what she had done. My son, with whom I live, has been employed for more than two months in carrying comforts to the sick and dying soldiers from this part of the State, amounting to twenty-two horse-wagon loads, for which he and those who furnish them receive most gi-ateful thanks.

Still another equally strong remonstrance against Polk's withdrawal from the army was received from one of equal piety and authority in the Church, Bishop Otey, but the letter seems to have reached Polk after he had decided to retain his commission :

jMemtois, December 4, 1861.

My beloved Brother: Upon returning home, day before yesterday, I received copies of the letter addressed to you by Mr. Memmiiicrer and the President on the subject of your resignation of your command in the provisional army, etc. If any doubt lingered in your mind as to the propriety of retaining a position into which 30U have been called by the wise providence of God, it seems to me that it should bo removed by the statements and reasonings of those letters. Your letter of the 6th of November tendering your resignation of your commission of major-general, of which I have just made a copy, will triumphantly vindicate the purity of your motives and the high and noble considerations which have influenced your course, and will justify your retention of your command in the view of all reflecting and right-minded men. If examples of men of like profession and similarly situated with yourself, who have been called to take up arms for the defense of the altars of God and of their country, be called for, they can be readily furnished from the record of Holy Writ. The conduct of Phinehas, Numbers xxv, 10, 11, was so praiseworthy that it elicited the divine commendation in the remarkable words: "The Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron the priest, hath turned my wrath away from the childi-en of Israel, while he was zealous for my sake among them, that I consumed not the children of Israel in my jealousy." And David, commenting on the transaction, commends his conduct by saying: ''And that was counted unto him for righteousness among aU posterities forevermore.'' The case of Samuel the prophet is equally pertinent, for he repeatedly led the armies of Israel to battle, and, on one occasion, himself took the sword and "hewed Agag," the king of Amalek, "in pieces before the Lord."

If ever man di'ew the sword in the cause of righteousness and justice, in defense of the dearest and most sacred rights of man, I think you have done so, and I need not assure you that my poor prayers are daily offered for your success and your preservation. I had intended to A^-rite you much on

^t. 55] BESIGNATION RECALLED. :}4;J

this subject 5 but I know that your time is too valuable to be consumed in reading what my heart prompts me to write, when all that I might say is comprehended in the few lines above written. The approval of your own conscience, which I fully believe you have, is of more worth and comfort to you than all the words of man's approbation and sympathy.

It was not for many days that Polk could make up his mind to waive his desire to be relieved. Before replying to the President, he made his resolution known to General Johnston, and, as Colonel William Preston Johnston says in his " Life" of his father, " it was no small comfort to Johnston to feel that, in this important command, he had an old friend in whose fidelity and ability he placed unbounded confidence." To the President General Polk's answer was as follows:

Headquarters, 1st Division, Western Department, Columbus, Ky., Dec. 8,1861, Sir: Your letter of November 12th in reply to mine on the subject of my resignation of appointment of major-general in the Confederate army has been received. I appreciate the confidence you have been pleased to express in me. After carefully considering all my responsibilities in the premises, and your deliberate judgment as to the necessities of the service, I have concluded to waive the pressing of my application for a release from further service, and have determined to retain my office so long as I may be of service to our cause. I remain,

FaithfuUy your friend,

L. Voi^K, Major-Gen. Commanding. To His Excellency, Jefferson Davis, President, C. S. A.

From the language of the foregoing letter it might have been inferred that Polk had abandoned all further thought of retiring from the arjuy; but it was not so.

:m BENEWED ATTEMPT TO UE8IGN. [18G1

He had abandoned it only until it should appear to bis superiors in office, as weU as to himself, that the neees-sil y for his service in the army was at an end. Less than two months afterward he was led to believe that the necessity had passed, and he instantly telegraphed the folloA\ing dispatch to Richmond :

Headquarters, 1st Division, Western Department, Columbus, Ky., Jan. 30,1862.

Mr. Fresident: Having been informed that the condition of the service on the Potomac is such as to make it unnecessary to retain so many general officers on that line as have hitherto been engaged there, and that one or more may be spared for service in the West, I have respectfully to renew the application I made to you in my letter of the 6th of November, to be relieved from my command in the army, and pennitted to return to the duties of my episcopal office. You were pleased to say in youi- reply of the 12th of the same month that you desired me to postpone my resignation until a change in the then existing condition of affairs might take place; that you would not forget my wishes; and that you would gi-atify them as soon as practicable. In comphance with your desire I withdrew my resignation.

The want of a general officer to whom the command might be entrusted, who could be spared fi-om other service, l^eing the objection to the acceptance of my resignation when tendered, and that obstacle no longer existing, I desire again respectfully to renew my application, and to express the hope that the serWce I have rendered in my peculiar circumstances may be accepted as my contrdiulion in that line to a cause the success of which is no longer doubtful.

Kespectfully your obedient servant,

L. Polk. Major-General, C. S. A.

His Excellency, Jefferson Davis, President, C. S. A.

In reply to this dispateh Polk received no less than three letters, wliicli convinoed him that the hopeful ^^ew

^t. 55] A COMPLIMENT FROM CONGRESS. ;{45

he had been led to take of the immediate prospects of the Confederacy was not shared by the authorities at Richmond. The fii'st was from the Hon. John Perkins. Jr., member of the Confederate Congress from Louisiana:

Richmond, February 1, 18G2.

My dear General: The President showed me the day before yesterday a telegraphic despatch he had just receivtd from you, renewing a request previously made to be relieved from your present command, and told me that he had written you that your services could not be spared, and then proceeded to speak of you in terms most grateful to my feelings.

Yoirr name came up in our conversation accidentally, and the President spoke, not for effect, but in the confidence that exists between us on public men and public business, and his expressions were so wai'm that I begged him for permission to repeat them.

I write you now to beg that you will dismiss all idea of i-e-signing your position in the army. Indeed, my dear general, as a member of Congress, I feel I have almost the right to protest against your permitting the pubUc to know that you ever thought of taking such a step. T can say in the sincerity of friendship, and without violation of secrecy, that I have never heard, either on the floor of Congress or from any other official of the government, other than the highest estimate placed upon your services as a military man. The report of the Secretary of War, now in the hands of the printer, speaks of you in connection with the battle of Belmont in terms of the most beautiful praise.

Your report of that battle was made an exception by Congress, and was ordered to be printed several weeks in advance of those of other generals. Under these circumstances, I feel that, in writing you as I do, I speak the sentiment of those connected with both branches of the government. I expressed a fear to the President that your wish to resign might be influenced by the fact of General Beauregard having been ordered to the same military district with yourself. He assured me, however, that your application was made prior

to the order given General Beauregard; and then went on to say that your services were more needed now than when you first addressed him on the subject, but intimated that the action of the Episcopal Convention that met in November might have influenced your feelings. I sincerely trust that this may not be the case, and that, ha\'ing once assumed a prominent position in defense of our country, you may not weaken our cause by even a seeming reluctance to continue in its service. This is a moment of peculiar peril, and we require all the moral force that can be brought to bear to confirm and strengthen our military authorities. I do not feel that I have a right to urge upon you the necessity of sacrificing individual inclinations in view of great pubhc duties imposed upon us in time of great national trials. This duty, I know, was felt when you laid aside, temporarily, the care of your diocese to assume a military command; but I have feared you might not reahze fully the effect that a suiTender of that command would now have upon the success of our arms. The difficulties of your position are, I assure you, fidly appreciated, as well as the feebleness of the resoiurces at your disposal, in front of an enemy greatly superior in men and military equipments. I would write with much more feeling if I was not aware that I addressed myself to one accustomed to act after mature reflection and a conscientious weighing of all those considerations which should influence a patriot in determining upon the path of duty; and am very sincerely your friend, Jno. Perkins, Jr.

Leonidas Polk, Major-General, C. S. A., Columbus.

The second letter was fi-om Mr. A. T. Bledsoe, Assistant Secretary of War, an intimate acquaintance, formerly Professor of Mathematics in the University of Virginia, whom Polk had frequently consulted in the <)ri2:anization of the University of the South, and whom lie luul fully exi)ected to be elected to a chair iu that institution. Mr. Bledsoe's letter was as follows:

Confederate States of America, War Department, Richmond, February 3, 1862.

My dear General: I sincerely rejoice to learn, as I have done from several sources, that you have almost, if not entirely, recovered from the effects of the explosion of the cannon.

I am deeply grieved, however, to hear that you have some thoughts of retiring from the service. I hope, and beg, and pray that you will not do so.

President Davis expected gi-eat tilings of you when you were appointed, and there has not been to this day the abatement of one jot or tittle in his expectations. I know he would be sadly grieved if you were to resign. What is true of Davis is also time of your other friends, and especially of myself.

But what is the opinion of man"? What the opinion of presidents, or priests, or laymen, or bishops? You know, and you feel, that you have engaged in as gi-eat and as sacred a cause as ever enlisted the services of manj and, in this cause, you have just begun to act. I know you can render most important, most valuable services. I have said so from the first, and know it now more fully than before you were tried. Turn not back, I implore you, but hold right on in spite of all opposition of all kinds. Ten thousand hearts are with you, and look to you as one of our most efficient generals. We feel as if we could not spare you. I feel as if I were only uttering the sentiment of the people of the Confederacy when I say you must not resign.

Pardon me, I beseech you, if in this simple and earnest outpouring of my heart, I have said anything offensive to you. I have no time, as you can well imagine, to weigh my words in the midst of so much business.

May the Lord direct you into the right way, is the prayer

of your servant, friend, and brother,

A. T. Bledsoe.

The third letter was from the President liiniself. It was kindly, considerate, and even affectionate ; hnt it was nneqnivocally firm in its statement that Polk's rcsio'na-

tion could not be entertained, and it begged him to ** abandon for the present all thought of resigning."

Richmond, Va., February 7, 1862.

My dear General: I have the honor to acknowledge yours of the 30th ult. It having been my good fortune to converse freely with your son, lie will communicate to you my views in relation to the subject of your letter more freely than I can now offer them in wi'iting. I felt, and feel, unwilling to detain you in the military service beyond the necessity for your pi'esence, and wish the opportunity for the fulfillment of my promise enabled me to comply with your renewed request. When you gave yourseK to the militai'y service, the moral effect was most beneficial. Now you have gained an amount of special information of great impoi'tance to the defense of the Mississippi Valley; and at the moment when clouds are gathering over the field of your labors, we can least afford to lose you.

The news of the fall of Fort Henry has just reached us. Looking to the public interest, and as your friend, watchful of your owTi welfare, I must beg that you abandon for the present all thought of resigning.

You have been overworked, and I can appreciate the condition of one whose cares follow both his waking and sleeping hours; in that regard I have hoped to give you some relief by assigning General Beaiu-egard to dutj' at Columbus. He is an able engineer and full of resources, is covu-teous and energetic. He will, it is lioped, divide your troubles and muUiply your means to resist them.

In vain have wo struggled to supply ourselves with the requisite arms. A few have been recently obtained. We an; liopeful of further supplies, and faithfully trusting in the (liver of aU good things, I rely upon more than I can sec of support to om' just cause.

Affectionately your fi-iend,

Jefferson Davis.

Rt. Rev. L. Polk, Major-General. C. S. A.

After such a letter as this from Ids commander-iu-chief, it was no longer possible for a soldier to. think of retiring from his post until relief should be offered. All that was now left to him was to g-o on with the duty-he had undertaken, " firm and steadfast to the end." It was a grievous disappointment to him, but he bore it like a Christian soldier, silently.

If any man, soldier or civilian, priest or layman, after reading the brief statement of facts given in the present chapter, finds it in his heart to condemn Leonidas Polk or to blame him harshly, we "would not die in that man's company."

END OF VOL. I.

405 HHgardZ^ue ?o?i- '"'^''ARV FACILITY

picture3

Code to add/link to footnote: Capuchin Footnotes

Notes

  1. Capuchin A Catholic friar.


Put the names of your group members here.

Text prepared by:



Fall 2019 Group



Source

Put the bibliographical information here. Be sure to include the link to the source.

Polk, William Mecklenburg. Leonidas Polk: Bishop and General. New York: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1894. Google Books. Web. 13 Nov. 2018. <https://books.google.com/books?id=F8gEAAAAYAAJ>.

Home Page
L’Anthologie  Louisianaise