The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1874-11-19
PRESIDENT POLK's WIDOW.
A Visit 40 One OF the Mothers of the
Nation

NasnFlue Letter to Chicago Inter-OCean.
On one of the oozy, shady streets of
Nashville, the Boston of the south, in
an old-fashioned mansion Of red brick.
with wide, deep windows, and a NAM
moth-pillared piazza jutting out like
the bold forehead of the famous man
that once lived there, is the house of
Mrs. James Knox Polk, widow of the
tenth president of the United States
one of the mothers of the nation. A
slender, graceful old lady, with snow
white neckerchief and folds of curls
that lay pat on each side of her brow.
She is seventy-six years old, but her
figure is as straight, her step as quick
and her eyes as bright as the eyes of a
girl; active in every benevolent scheme,
generous to an extreme, hospitable ae-
cording to the traditions of Kentucky
hospitality. and as courtly as a queen.
In Nashville, few days ago, the house
was pointed ont to me, and descrip-
ton of the old lady given, with the
remark that she liked to receive stran-
gers. So thought I would pay my
respects to the widow of a president,
and about MONDAY entered the gate of
"the Polk Place." and went up the
long gravel walk that leads to the
house. The yard is laid out in the old
fashioned style, with fower-beds in diff
ferent designs, borders of box and
shrubs of different sorts placed at
mathematical intervals. An old-fash-
ioned brass knocker, like the handle of
a coffin, FURNISHED as bright as a mirror,
asked entrance for me, and a bent,
rickety old negro woman answered the
summons.
els Mrs. Polk at home?"
Yes, sab will you step in, sab :;
Missus Polk is at home, sab, but was
just gwine out, sab, and she's boun' to
go bout this time. Take chair, sab. "
She led me into an old-fashioned par
lor, with shells of all sorts on the man
tel, and chintz curtains with large
howery figures hung before the win
dows. On the walls were portraits of
men in wigs and military uniforms of
the old regime, and women with high
powdered hair and ruffies, with few an
tique prints and half-faded landscapes.
The furniture was heavy mahogony,
and exquisitely carved, and the carpet,
half-covered by canvas, was a relic of
ancient elegance. I was able only to
glance at things for a moment after the
servant left. Mrs. Polk entered, and,
extending her hand cordially, said:
see you are n stranger, sir but
/ am happy to see you, nevertheless.
People call every day to see me, said
she, laughing, " to see how a woman
lives that lived inthe White House once,
and value the attention very highly"
I thanked her, and attempted to ex-
plain and apologize for my intrusion,
but she tapped her hand impatiently
with her parasol, and said
'The apology is on my part, sir, for
must beg you to excuse me. I have
an appointment at this hour it is quite
imperative I should meet, or would be
pleased to entertain you. I pray yOu
will excuse me, and make yourself as
much at home in my house and on my
grounds as if Iwere here. My servants
will show you what people generally
wish to see. They are accustomed to
seeing strangers, sir ha hal quite ac-
customed to it, I assure you"
1t was something had read about,
this graceful, old-fashioLed courtesy,
but I never saw before a real illustra-
tion of the manners of the republican
court, and as I escorted the nimble old
lady to her carriage, she chattered away
as cordially as if she was my grand
mother, and insisted upon my calling
again. Her riding dress was of the
shiny silken material that one sees at
old folks concerts black, and cut long
wasted, with plain belt of corded rib
bon. At her neck was a white linen
'kerchief, folded with artistic precision,
and fastened with large brooch, which
contained a picture of her husband.
Her shawl was of black lace, folded in
the old-fashioned way, and on her hands
were '' mitts'-or whatever they call
those silk, knit affairs that haven't any
fingers. AS the carriage drove away 1
turned back into the yard, and went to
the tomb of the president, which stands
midway between the street and house,
at the left of the walk. It is a plain,
rectangular sarcophagus, about sixteen
feet in height, of smooth limestone, and
inclosing low square monument of the
same stone. An effort has been made
to remove it to the grounds of the state
house, which stands not more than SIX
hundred yards away, but 1t is Mrs.
Polk's wish that it remain where it Is,
and she wants to be buried in the vault
beneath, beside her husband, Every
year the legislature of Tennessee call
upon MIS-. Polk in body, have brief
prayer at the tomb of the president, and
are entertained for q few moments by
his widow, With the assistance of a few
other old-fashioned ladies that have
been her life long friends.
The monument is covered with in
scriptions. On the side facing the
street, in bold, square letters, is en-
graved:
a: JAMES KNOX POLK,
; rHNTH PRESIDENT or THE UNITED STATES. {.
Born November a. l795 Died June lS lSi9:
1