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Envelope Via England
Dr. Wm. M. Polk 7 East 36th Street New York N.Y. United States of America
Taormina – Sicily Christmas 1910
My dear Brother -
I enclose the little sketch you asked for, unworthy as it is, of the object of your request and its subject – Its only merit is it truthfulness – and it has been a sad pleasure to recal [sic] an incident at once so vivid and dramatic – and whose influence would be so far reaching.
When the note came – Mother asked Mr. Temple, a brother of Mrs. Becket’s and a high toned Southern gentleman, to stand near her – and he corroborated all that I saw from a concealed “Vantage ground”.
The sketch is so crude that I must ask you to put it in proper shape – for nothing unworthy must mar the exquisite unity of your own literary work – I am very glad you will get out a second edition of your Memoir of Father One of the most difficult and
successful works of this kind ever attempted -
I hope you and Ida have not experienced the rigors of winter that have beset us, I do not think the cold is really greater, but the houses are so illy provided with the means of heating – in Germany it was awful in Florence very comfortable – Rome was a hideous nightmare. We spent a week at Capri. A heavenly spot, and came here a few days ago to join Molly Moss and the two Misses Sargent. Our party of six are delightfully located in a good pension – with a private terrace overlooking the Sea. Etna, snow capped – nearby – it is a fascinating place – and much frequented by artists – We came by sea from Naples to Messina – the latter presenting an appalling sight; never have I dreamed of such destruction – poverty and misery. There can be no future for the city for there has been little attempt to rebuild and what commerce they had, seems to have been absorbed by Palermo.
Christmas was a strange day with us – the quiet of the early hours being broken by a procession of Priests carrying the “Bambino” around the streets headed by a brass band playing gay music in which the “Merry widow” was conspicuous. We had a lovely service in the English Chapel – which forms part of an ancient Monastery.
Frances and Laura are quite well and join me in dear love to Ida and yourself. Always your sister ever devotedly
Susan P. Jones
{typed in the left margin} I have ventured to use the word “original” for it was generally believed
{typed in the right margin} that this was the first K.K.K. having its origin at Pulaski
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In the Autumn of 1866 Mrs. Polk accepted the position of Vice Principal of the “Female Institute’ of Columbia Tennessee, a school established some years previously, largely through the influence of her husband whose home at the time was Ashwood Hall, six miles distant.
Situated on a commanding hill, the “Institute” with its ample grounds and picturesque towers was a beautiful landmark to the surrounding country surprisingly lovely in itself. War had not left untouched this honored building, for the Union troops using it first as a barracks and then as a hospital it was in a deplorable condition.
A frugal and judicious outlay upon the part of the Trustees placed it in comparative restoration, and the influence, of the associated name of Mrs. Polk, so well known and honored in the South for her dignity and rare intellectual and social gifts was such, that soon the long vacant halls were filled with the murmur of eager students and the laughter of happy youth.
The political state of this part of the country was in a very perilous condition, and toward Christmas a rumor was whispered that failing the justice that would have been accorded by the Courts of Law, a secret organization had been formed among the better class of young men (who having served in the Confederate Army were debarred from political rights) for the protection of the safety and honor of the community. A day came when a murder was committed, near Columbia, under the most atrocious circumstances, of a highly respectable and unoffending citizen; his death was quickly avenged by a body of men disguised both they and their horses beyond all recognition.
At twilight they assembled as if by magic, at the grave of the victim, and mutely with mystic signs paid a last tribute to the dead. Leaving the cemetery, the mysterious band, numbering] about forty, with solemn and muffled tread wended its way up the hill to the residence of Mrs. Polk. A respectfully worded note requested her presence upon the heavily arched porch. On her appearance she was silently and reverently saluted by the leader, then turning to his followers, and holding his sword aloft the hilt of which formed a cross, they gathered around him; and with uplifted Arms seemed to take an oath anew. With deep emotion Mrs. Polk extended her hands as with bowed heads the strange company filed before her, and the waning light vividly silouetting their figures against the faintly glowing West, the red robed riders passed swiftly out into the dusky night.
Taormina, Sicily
Christmas 1910