Uncommon trio converge on Tennessee Mountain

“Started with my family for Sewanee, Tenn.,” writes Bishop William Crane Gray in his diary for July 22, 1895 “to attend meeting of Trustees of the University of the South.” Two days later he had arrived at Sewanee “after a most delightful ride through Middle Tennessee.” The university is situated on 10,000 acres atop the Cumberland plateau, an idyllic setting for its students to study learn, and live.

 Southern author and poet, William Alexander Percy, a former student, has said, “It is so beautiful that people who have once been there always, one way or another, come back.” This is the story of three men whose lives intersect, if only briefly, and the point of that intersection is Sewanee and the University of the South. They are alike in that all three are Episcopal clergymen, two of them bishops, the other considered to be the American church’s most distinguished theologian.

 A recent visitor to Diocesan House was the director of The Leonidas Polk Registry Research Project in Atlanta, Georgia. He was in search of anything relating to “Started with my family for Sewanee, Tenn.,” writes Bishop William Crane Gray in his diary for July 22, 1895 “to attend meeting of Trustees of the University of the South.” Two days later he had arrived at Sewanee “after a most delightful ride through Middle Tennessee.” The university is situated on 10,000 acres atop the Cumberland plateau, an idyllic setting for its students to study learn, and live.

 Southern author and poet, William Alexander Percy, a former student, has said, “It is so beautiful that people who have once been there always, one way or another, come back.” This is the story of three men whose lives intersect, if only briefly, and the point of that intersection is Sewanee and the University of the South. They are alike in that all three are Episcopal clergymen, two of them bishops, the other considered to be the American church’s most distinguished theologian.

 A recent visitor to Diocesan House was the director of The Leonidas Polk Registry Research Project in Atlanta, Georgia. He was in search of anything relating to of Leonidas.

 When the Revolutionary War broke out, Thomas received a commission as colonel in a North Carolina regiment. By the end of the war he had attained the rank of general. His three brothers also served with distinction. Thomas’s oldest son was killed in battle, while William, the second son, served with such impressive bravery as to earn special mention in General Nathaniel Greene’s report to the Continental Congress that Lieutenant-Colonel Polk was conspicuous for his good conduct and intrepidity, while his troops “gave a specimen of what may be expected from men naturally brave when improved by special discipline.” With a father and grandfather distinguished for patriotism and martial ability, it is not surprising appointment to the United States Military Academy at West Point. It was there that he had a conversion experience apparently as the result of reading a tract addressed “to an unbeliever.” Virtually non-existent at this time was the spiritual atmosphere at the academy, despite valiant efforts on the part of its chaplain. But as a result of Leonidas’s decision to become a follower of Christ, there was a campus wide revival, Polk leading a “praying squad” among the corps of cadets and inspiring others to follow his example. The first ever to be baptized in the academy chapel, he took seriously the chaplain’s charge to “pray your Master and Savior to take you out of the world, rather than allow you to bring reproach on the cause you have now professed.” The Episcopal faith was promoted as “ideal for an officer and a gentleman” and moral philosophy was added to a curriculum that mainly stressed mathematics and engineering.

 With an excellent academic record, graduating eighth in his class in July, 1827, Leonidas resigned his commission at the close of the year and entered Virginia Theological Seminary, where to his father’s disappointment and disgust,“ they’re ruining a good soldier to make a poor parson.” History was to prove otherwise.

 “The Great Awakening” of the 18th century had permeated the South and the revival spirit had greatly influenced the Baptist and Methodist churches. Polk believed it to be his mission to arouse evangelical fervor within the Episcopal faith, enlarging its scope among the general population. He also deplored the lack of educational facilities in the South. Wealthy plantation owners sent their sons to northern schools and universities, even to England. He shared the vision for a University of the South with Bishop James Otey, the first Bishop of Tennessee, who had established a seminary in his diocese for the training of clergy.

 Polk was ordained a priest in 1832 and moved with his wife and children to Tennessee where he served St. Peter’s Church in Columbia at the invitation of Bishop Otey.

 There were only 117 Episcopalians in his diocese and Otey could use Polk’s evangelical fervor.

 The young clergyman’s rise in the Church was rapid. He was consecrated bishop in 1838 and became Bishop of Louisiana in 1841.

 Although the winds of war were blowing over the Tennessee mountains, Otey and Polk initiated their project for a university and, with a group of trustees-to-be, chose Sewanee as its site. Polk raised most of the money. He had traveled extensively in England, visiting Oxford and Cambridge, and envisioned a liberal arts institution of similar caliber. It is not surprising that Sewanee’s Gothic structures bear resemblance to their English counterparts.

 Polk was not in favor of war, but when the South seceded he was urged several times by Jefferson Davis, president of the Confederacy, to accept a commission in the Confederate army.

 Davis, along with Robert E. Lee and Albert Sydney Johnston, had been classmates of his at West Point, and Polk found it difficult to resist their pleas. He was given command of the Army in the West which included parts of Tennessee and other states bordering on the Mississippi. He eventually rose to the rank of General and was killed at Pine Mountain, Georgia to the consternation of his army comrades. Joseph Johnston, commander of the Army of Tennessee, had been baptized by Polk a month earlier and declared: “In this distinguished leader we have lost the most courteous of gentlemen, the most gallant of soldiers. The Christian patriot soldier has not died in vain. His example is before you…” This is the first part of a two-part article.

 The second half will be in the October Central Florida Episcopalian.

 Beatrice Wilder is the Diocesan Historiographer.