Another distinguished citizen of Memphis who has lively recollections of the Civil War, is the Right Reverend Thomas F. Gailor, Episcopal Bishop of Tennessee.  Bishop Gailor, who succeeded the famous Bishop Quintard, is my ideal of everything an Episcopal bishop—­or I might even say a Church of England bishop—­ought to be.  The Episcopal Church seems to me to have about it more “style” than most other churches, and an Episcopal bishop ought not to look the ascetic.  He ought to be well filled out, well dressed, well fed.  He ought to have a distinguished appearance, a ruddy complexion, a good voice, and a lot of what we call “humanness”—­including humor.  All these qualities Bishop Gailor has.

In the bishop’s study, in Memphis, hangs the sword of his father, Major Frank M. Gailor, who commanded the 33rd Mississippi Regiment.  Major Gailor was killed while giving a drink of water to a wounded brother officer, and that officer, though dying, directed a soldier to take the Major’s sword and see that it reached Mrs. Gailor, in Memphis, within the Union lines.  A young woman, a Confederate spy, took the sword, and wearing it next her body, brought it through to Mrs. Gailor.  Somehow or other it became known that the widow had her husband’s sword, and as the possession of arms was prohibited to citizens, a corporal and guard were sent to the house to search for it.  They found it between the mattresses of Mrs. Gailor’s bed, and confiscated it.  Mrs. Gailor then went with another lady to see General Washburn.  Her friend started a long harangue upon the injustice which had been done, but Mrs. Gailor, seeing that the General was becoming impatient, broke in saying:  “General, soldiers came to my house and took away my dead husband’s sword.  I can’t use it, nor can my little son.  I want it back.  You would want your boy to have your sword, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would!” cried Washburn.  “Thank God for a woman who can say what she has to say, and be done with it!”

The sword was returned.

In the Spring of 1863, when Bishop Gailor was a child of about seven years, he accompanied his mother on a journey by wagon from Memphis to Jackson, Mississippi.  The only other member of the party was a lady who had driven in the same wagon from Jackson to Kentucky, to get the body of her brother, a Confederate soldier who had been killed there.  The coffin containing the remains was carried in the wagon.  When it was known in Memphis that Mrs. Gailor was going through the lines, a great many people came to her with letters which they wished to send to friends.  Mrs. Gailor sewed many of the letters into the clothing of the little boy. ("I remember it well,” said the bishop.  “I felt like a mummy.”) Also one of Forrest’s spies came with important papers, asking if she would undertake to deliver them.  Only by very clever manipulation did Mrs. Gailor get the papers through, for everything was carefully searched.  After they had passed out of the northern lines they met one of Forrest’s pickets.  Mrs. Gailor told him that she had papers for the general, and before long Forrest rode up with his staff and received them.  Then the two women and the little boy, with their tragic burden in the wagon, drove along on their two-hundred mile journey.  And later, when Jackson was bombarded, they were there.