USA > Connecticut > The story of the Diocese of Connecticut : a new branch of the vine (Espiscopal Church) > Part 40
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Very different was his reception by his parishioners in Middletown, who fairly adored him. His popularity brought re- quests for ministrations from people in Hartford County and farther afield. He won friends even among opponents of the Church, who protected him from violence during the Revolution. But they could not spare him the pain of seeing a liberty pole erected near his door, and the annoyance of having Continental soldiers quartered upon him. When men started from Farmington to mob him, his parishioners buckled on their swords to sacri- fice life itself to defend him. He bravely ministered to Moses Dunbar (the Tory spy) in Hartford jail, and went with him to the scaffold.
Jarvis was hardly more than settled in his parish, when he chose a partner in life - Ann, the daughter of Samuel Farmer, a New York merchant. They were married in Trinity Church at New York, in May 1766, and lived happily until her death in 1801. Their son, Samuel Farmer Jarvis (1786-1853) was the Bishop's pride and became rector of his father's parish, and an eminent scholar and church historian.
In 1799 the Bishop resigned his pastorship in Middletown, and built a house in Cheshire, to be near his boy at the Episcopal Academy. After four years, to be near Samuel at Yale, he went to live on New Haven's dignified Elm Street, in a house that later became the Yale Graduate Club. The Bishop grew lonely and in 1806 was married to the widow Lucy Lewis. The couple were drawn together by mutual sympathy in bereavement, and their devotion was deepened by her tender care during the Bishop's declining health.
The illness was due largely to his conscientious devotion
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to duty. He had long been regarded as the right-hand man of Seabury, who relied upon him during his long struggle to attain consecration. He was secretary of the meeting in Woodbury at which Seabury was elected, and conducted the diocesan corres- pondence with the English hierarchy. He was regarded as having few equals in the drafting of petitions, memorials, letters and addresses, and he helped to revise the Prayer Book. The clergy naturally elected him as coadjutor to Seabury in 1787, and mostly preferred him as his successor.
The election caused a period of doubt and uneasiness. Powerful laymen preferred the scholarly John Bowden, who hesi- tated an embarrassingly long time before announcing that frail health forbade his acceptance. Jarvis was then unanimously elected and he accepted, although pained by the divided sentiment. He was consecrated in Trinity Church, New Haven, on October 18, 1797, by Bishops Provoost of New York, White of Pennsylvania, and Bass of Massachusetts and New Hampshire. His was the first episcopal consecration ever held in Connecticut.
The episcopate of Jarvis was more effective than has generally been realized. Its fame has been overshadowed by Seabury's. And yet he took part in consecrating five bishops, and ordained thirty-three deacons and twenty-eight priests. It was his fortune to govern during the Church's slow recovery from the Revolution, in an era of religious depression. His firm and quiet administration made the Church respected. While suffering tor- tures from asthma, he traveled all over the Diocese, visiting the larger parishes on Sunday and the smaller ones on weekdays. In the evening he would gather the parishioners and the visiting clergy, and discourse with them informally on theology, the Bible, doctrine and usage. Then he would pass the night in a big chair, propped up with pillows, gallantly enduring his lonely pain and discomfort.
Bishop Jarvis conformed perfectly to the model of an eighteenth-century High-Church prelate. His formal manner suggested an English "gentleman of figure". In the pulpit he was clear, solemn, precise, and doctrinal; not "popular", and not wishing to be. His theology abhorred novelties and "witty inventions". Like Seabury, he regarded the Church's doctrine and polity as completely fixed and settled. He insisted upon strict conformity
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to the Prayer Book, and read the stately services in almost awe- some tones. Clerical discipline was one of his dearest principles, and he once reprimanded Tillotson Bronson for allowing a Con- gregational minister to use his pulpit. The chastened parson later paid a gracious tribute to the bishop in a notable memorial sermon.
Jarvis's insistence upon obedience to the canons became proverbial, and contributed to the improvement of diocesan and parochial government. He was a stickler for correct, old-fashioned clerical dress. When a young ordinand ventured to present him- self in trousers, the bishop said severely, "Young sir, I cannot ordain you in those things! Mrs. Jarvis, cannot you find for this young gentleman a pair of breeches?"3 The breeches - probably an extra episcopal pair - were produced, and the "young sir" was decently ordained.
The bishop's declining years were saddened by increasing physical suffering and the loss of his first wife. Opposition to the Federalist party began to prevail in his latest years, and made him aware that he had survived a social order which he loved. His burdens were aggravated by the vindictive conduct of a re- fractory and degraded priest. Ill health and his duties forbade the writing he would have enjoyed, and his literary remains consist of little more than a few pamphlets.
The bishop was a man of amazing endurance and in spite of burdens and infirmities lived to the age of seventy-four. He died on May 3, 1813 on the couch where his first wife had lain in death, and was buried in the new Grove Street Cemetery. When Ithiel Town's Gothic Trinity Church was completed soon after his death, his body was interred under the altar. He is commemorated by a memorial wall tablet, erected by his much beloved son, the Rev. Samuel Farmer Jarvis.
THOMAS CHURCH BROWNELL: 1819-1865
In the year of Bishop Jarvis's death his successor was con- firmed, at the age of thirty-four. Six years later he was Bishop of Connecticut - a swift rise to the episcopate without parallel in the American Church. He was the first Bishop of Connecticut born as a citizen of the United States. The eldest of the eleven children of Sylvester and Mary Brownell, he was born on October 19, 1779, on his father's farm, at Westport in Massachusetts.
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There he spent a healthful rural boyhood which wove his durable fibre. The district teachers noticed his uncommon ability, and at fifteen he taught the school and won the respect of his former fellow pupils. The experience foretold the character of his life - always a teacher.
The discerning Congregational minister who guided his further studies recommended college and sent him to the Bristol Academy at Taunton. From there it was an easy step to Rhode Island College, now Brown University. He deeply respected the brilliant young president, Jonathan Maxcy, and followed him to Schenectady when he was elected president of Union College. In 1804 Brownell was graduated at the head of his class.
He spent about twelve years in finding his destined pro- fession. The Congregational or Presbyterian ministry did not ap- peal because he distrusted Calvinist theology. This theology was not recommended by the "somewhat mitigated form" in which he learned it from the scholarly Eliphalet Nott, pastor of the Pres- byterian Church in Albany. To Brownell, the Church's primitive organization seemed "more like that of the Episcopal communion."4 Perhaps faintly annoyed, Nott sent him to Frederic Beasley, rector of St. Peter's, who lent him Archbishop Potter's Discourse on Church Government. Many years later Brownell confessed that the book was "like the opening of a new world." But he still felt "left alone in the world, in regard to my religious sympathies",5 because he had not met anybody whose sympathy could trans- mute his intellectual conviction into heartfelt conversion.
The painful indecision continued while he lingered at Union, as a tutor in Latin and Greek and later as professor of chemistry and mineralogy. In preparation for the last assignment, he spent a delightful year in the British Isles, meeting eminent scientists, hearing lectures, visiting laboratories, and walking to observe and to gather specimens.
He returned with his religious problem still unsolved - until he wooed and married Charlotte Dickinson of Lansingburgh in 1811. She led him to St. George's Episcopal Church in Schenectady, where he was baptized and confirmed in 1813. The young scientist studied Anglican theology, with the modest am- bition of serving nearby churches as a lay-reader. Bishop Hobart of New York perceived his real caliber and in 1816 ordained him
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as deacon and priest. Delicate lungs suggested a rest in the South, and on the way home he preached in New York and deeply im- pressed Bishop Hobart, who wanted him as his assistant at Trinity Church.
While Brownell swiftly rose to prominence, the Diocese of Connecticut dawdled over the choice of a bishop. The members of the Convention could not agree until 1815, when they elected John Croes, rector of Christ Church in New Brunswick, N. J. - only to lose him when New Jersey also elected him. A chief rea- son for the delay was that the small bishop's fund could not fur- nish a decent salary. Eminent priests expressed their impatience and disgust, and in 1816 the Convention invited Bishop Hobart to take care of the Diocese. He cheerfully consented but warned that he would be "exceedingly gratified" when the consecration of a bishop would relieve him. The Convention thanked him but seemed indisposed to hasten its choice, and after two years Hobart began to chafe. His thoughts turned to his efficient and brilliant curate, and one can see his skillful influence in Brownell's election on June 2, 1819. He accepted, and expressed a challenging trust that the Diocese would provide worthily for him and his family.
The young bishop was consecrated on October 27 in Trinity Church, New Haven, by Bishops White of Pennsylvania, Hobart of New York, and Alexander Viets Griswold of the Eastern Diocese. It was a stately occasion in the quiet history of the college town. The long procession to the church started from the house of Lieutenant Governor Jonathan Ingersoll, a warden of the parish and the first Episcopalian elected to such high office in Connecticut.
This fact bespoke a profound change in the Church's re- lations to society. Connecticut was no longer the home of a pro- vincial Puritan oligarchy which merely tolerated the Episcopal Church. The bishop was a man of the times, prepared to adapt the Church to the democratic spirit. In 1822 he was invited to de- liver the annual election sermon to the General Assembly - which would have been unthinkable in Seabury's day.
The Diocese at once became aware of his stature, and his address of acceptance suggested a forward movement. The first step would be to found a theological seminary. The General Seminary had been established at New York in 1817 but was not flourishing, and in 1820 was moved to New Haven. Bishop
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Brownell resigned the rectorship of Christ Church in Hartford and moved to the Elm City to instruct the students in the art of preaching. He had scarcely settled down to work when the semi- nary was enticed back to New York by a princely bequest and the gift of a site. The bishop was deeply disappointed, but publicly hoped that the move would harmonize opinions and start the fountain of patronage. He was living up to his reputation as a peacemaker, which had inspired his schoolmates to call him "Old Smoothing Plane".
Brownell assuaged his grief by heading the movement to found an Episcopal college in Hartford. He became the president of the college and returned to Hartford for the remainder of his life. But in 1831 his rapidly growing diocese practically com- pelled him to resign and bid an affectionate farewell to his be- loved students.
The sacrifice was due mostly to his zealous promotion of diocesan missions. The forty-six years of his episcopate witnessed the founding of sixty-five parishes, fifty of which are still flour- ishing. The growth was peaceful, because of his refusal to become nervous about the "High Church" controversy inspired by the English Oxford Movement of the 1830's. Partisan clamor made no headway against his calm loyalty to Church doctrine. He was equally opposed to "the superstitions of Romanism, or to the cold- ness and baldness of Rationalism."6
The Society for Domestic and Foreign Missions regarded Brownell as the "natural choice" for a missionary bishop to the South and Southwest, fields scarcely touched by the Episcopal Church. In November 1829 he began a tour of over four months and six thousand miles - down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers from Pittsburgh to New Orleans, and through the Deep South and the Atlantic States. He helped to establish the Dioceses of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. It was far from a healthful trip, and the bishop probably used Doctor Cook's remedy for dyspepsia, which he carefully copied into his journal. Bravely he retraced most of his journey in 1834 and 1836, returning with a vision of the Church's duty to the new states.
Incessant travels and his staggering correspondence sap- ped the Bishop's health, and in 1845 he asked the Convention for an assistant. That august body took ample time to reflect, and in
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1851 elected John Williams as Connecticut's first assistant bishop. Next year, upon the death of Bishop Philander Chase of Illinois, Brownell became Presiding Bishop. His poor health made the office hardly more than nominal. For years he rarely left Hartford, where he lived calmly and cordially, cherishing to the last the welfare of his beloved college. After receiving his last Communion from Bishop Williams, he died on January 13, 1865.
Bishop Brownell left few publications to show how well he could write. They comprise about a dozen titles - books of per- sonal devotion, sermons and essays, occasional articles in periodi- cals, and addresses and sermons to the Diocesan Convention. The most ambitious is The Family Prayer Book, Accompanied by a General Commentary (1846). The most influential probably was his Review of the Errors of the Times, an address to the Convention of 1844 during the Oxford Movement controversy. The only public memorial to him is a majestic, full-length statue of the bishop in episcopal robes, facing and blessing his beloved Trinity College.
JOHN WILLIAMS: 1865-1899
The fourth Bishop of Connecticut was born in Deerfield, Massachusetts, on August 30, 1817. He was the only son of Ephraim Williams, a noted lawyer and political leader, and Emily Trowbridge Williams. His descent was as distinguished as anyone in the Bay State could claim. Among his ancestors were John Cotton, the first minister of Boston, and the Rev. Solomon Stod- dard of Northampton, grandfather of the great theologian, Jona- than Edwards. He was steeped in the colonial lore of Deerfield, and in old age liked to tell how one of his family, the Rev. John Williams, was taken by Indian raiders to Canada.
His Unitarian parents sent him to Harvard College, but his independent mind considered the Cambridge intellectualism too high and dry. A classmate, Benjamin Davis Winslow of Bos- ton, had recently become an Episcopalian. He probably was partly responsible for young John's decision to transfer to Washington (Trinity) College in Hartford, against the strenuous opposition of his father and friends. There his new convictions were consoli- dated by Professor Samuel Farmer Jarvis, a deep student of church history and theology, and by President Thomas Church Brownell, whom he would succeed as bishop. His fellow students instinc-
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tively perceived his destined vocation and called him "Parson Williams". After theological studies with Jarvis, and at the General Seminary, he was ordained by Bishop Brownell as a deacon on September 2, 1838, and as a priest on September 26, 1841.
Williams had become a tutor at the college but was still too young to be rector of a parish. He spent about a year in the grand tour of Europe with his mother and the Hartford poetess, Lydia Huntley Sigourney. Upon his return he kept a promise to be assist- ant minister to his teacher, Doctor Jarvis, rector of Holy Trinity parish, Middletown, and to help him write a complete history of the Christian Church. Doctor Jarvis found his double task too onerous, and in 1842 resigned, expecting Williams to succeed him. The young curate and Bishop Brownell had another plan, and Williams became rector of St. George's Church, Schenectady.
WILLIAMS'S EPISCOPATE
There he served for six years, endearing himself to the parishioners by his earnest pastoral care and winning personality. He always affectionately cherished and expressed in verse his me- mories of the parish. There he composed Ancient Hymns of Holy Church (Hartford, 1844), mostly translations, dedicated to the Rev. Arthur Cleveland Coxe of St. John's in Hartford, in memory of many conversations on the Church's ritual. It is a rather rare and quaint little volume in a green cover stamped with a gilt lyre. In 1848 he dedicated to the parish his Thoughts on the Gospel Mira- cles, consisting of Lenten lectures in 1847.
Williams resigned the pulpit of St. George's reluctantly, but gladly returned to Trinity College to succeed Silas Totten as presi- dent. He probably was the youngest college president in the country, and the youngest holder of the degree of Doctor of Divinity, conferred upon him in 1849 by the admiring faculty of Union College. As he guided Trinity toward better standards, the hand of Bishop Brownell was guiding him toward a higher place.
The bishop saw that his young friend would be needed be- cause his own health was declining, and the Diocese was drifting into a difficult situation. In 1851 the Convention yielded to his plea and by a heavy majority on the first ballot elected Williams as his assistant. Connecticut was lucky to keep him because New York had considered calling him as provisional bishop. Nothing
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could have pleased him more than to serve under his revered teacher. He was consecrated on October 21, 1851, at St. John's in Hartford, the church of his friend, Arthur Cleveland Coxe.
Diocesan burdens rested so heavily upon him that Williams resigned the presidency of Trinity College. But he was a born teacher, and soon organized at the college a full theological course, preliminary to the establishment of a seminary. The seminary opened in October, 1854 as the Berkeley Divinity School. (See Chapter Eighteen, under The Berkeley Divinity School) Sur- rounded by affectionate pupils, the bachelor bishop spent the rest of his life at the school. He lectured informally in his study, oc- cupying a favorite chair and wearing a purple dressing gown and gold-bowed spectacles. The room was lined with books to its high ceiling but he knew the location of every volume. He once swap- ped an English text for a Latin one owned by a student, who cherished the volume with the signature "J. Williams" on the title-page.
In the school and the Diocese his administration prospered. His burden was aggravated by the Civil War and by his earnest effort to inculcate loyalty to the Federal Government, without sec- tional prejudice and bitterness. Upon the death of Bishop Brow- nell in 1865, he became Bishop of Connecticut, after being so in fact for ten years. The honor was attended by his unusually poignant grief at parting with a friend who had confirmed, or- dained, and consecrated him. He bore many more trials, in- cluding a long and severe illness, the loss of his beloved mother, and the rejection of his plan to divide the Diocese.
The Convention's refusal was far from implying any criti- cism of his work. At the twenty-fifth anniversary of his conse- cration, the delegates presented to him a congratulatory address, signed by the clergy, wardens, and vestrymen of all the parishes. They lauded his help to Bishop Brownell, his diligent adminis- tration, his "widely extended influence in the Church", the pro- gress of the Diocese, and his promotion of "sound learning and liberal culture."7 In 1879 many clergy and friends gathered for Berkeley's twenty-fifth anniversary, and presented to him his portrait, painted by Daniel Huntington. An engraving made from it became a familiar adornment of many homes and parish houses. Three years later the Convention gave him $5000 for his personal
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use, and he characteristically invested it for the use of the Diocese, bequeathing all his property to Berkeley Divinity School. Equally typical was his refusal of any celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination, which he spent in silent meditation.
After his consecration, the Bishop probably considered as the most memorable event in his life his part in the centennial of Seabury's consecration. As chairman of Connecticut's committee, he devoted much energy and interest to the observances, and de- livered six addresses, which are models of their kind. His journey from London to Aberdeen was a triumphal progress, marked by visits to historic places, frequent sermons by invitation, and in- numerable introductions to the great and the humble. The joy of the trip shines through letters which he and Doctor Samuel Hart wrote to their families and friends. At Aberdeen he preached a superb commemorative sermon, and received a handsome pastoral staff, which is still used by the Bishops of Connecticut on im- portant occasions. As snow fell upon the Grampian Mountains, he and his party began the homeward journey, bearing with them a sense of the eternal bond with the Church in Scotland. ( For a full account of this commemoration, see the sketch of Bishop Seabury).
The bishop returned happily to his rooms in Middletown, and made his sermon to the Convention of 1885 a glowing report of the visit to Scotland. In 1887, by the death of Bishop Lee of Delaware, he became Presiding Bishop. Age permitted him no illusions about his ability to perform the duty capably and he ad- vised the House of Bishops to make the office elective. In spite of his doubts, he was universally regarded as a magnificently effective presiding officer.
As the 1890's wore on, the bishop knew that his episcopate was drawing to a close. In 1897, for the first time, he was unable to attend the Convention and his annual address was read for him. At his request, the Convention elected as coadjutor Chauncey Bunce Brewster, who assumed most of the work. The bishop never attended another Convention but conducted classes from his bed almost to the last, and died on February 7, 1899. His episcopate had been so long that many Churchmen had never known another Bishop of Connecticut.
Their feelings were expressed by the Convention which elected his successor: "They do not forget that his Diocese has
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JOHN WILLIAMS Fourth Bishop of Connecticut 1865-1899 Bishop Coadjutor 1851-1865
(From Lucy Cushing Jarvis, Sketches of Church Life in Colonial Connecticut.)
CHAUNCEY BUNCE BREWSTER Fifth Bishop of Connecticut, 1899-1928 Bishop Coadjutor 1897-1899
(From Lucy Cushing Jarvis, Sketches of Church Life in Colonial Connecticut.)
000-0
EDWARD CAMPION ACHESON Sixth Bishop of Connecticut 1928-1934
Suffragan Bishop 1915-1926 Bishop Coadjutor 1926-1928
FREDERICK GRANDY BUDLONG Seventh Bishop of Connecticut, 1934-1951 Bishop Coadjutor 1931-1934
been his first and highest interest, and that while he was willing to contribute from his abundant ability to the general interests of the Church, he never failed to bear in mind his duty to the humb- lest Parish in his charge. .. To every Clergyman and every lay- man he has been not only the Bishop but the friend, sympathizing in their joys and sorrows, and ready to hear and to counsel where his attention and wisdom were needed."8
His life was one of fine simplicity, and many were grieved but not surprised that his gravestone bore only his name and the date of his death. Through the forgivable disobedience of Doctor Samuel Hart, it now names his two great offices. He destroyed his papers - a tragic bonfire indeed, for he was one of the few ex- cellent writers among his fellow bishops. The loss is partly re- stored by his books and essays, and by many anniversary and me- morial sermons, which reveal the clarity, conciseness, grace and poetry of his style. In its tribute to his memory, the Convention especially mentioned his "love of pure English".9
Williams was not a modern executive with a staff of as- sistants. His study was his office, his usual secretary was a Berke- ley student, and he administered the Diocese alone until eighteen months before his death. Year after year he covered an amazing mileage by slow horse and buggy and local trains. He never hurried, and an elderly Church woman once remarked that "Bishop Williams always seemed to have plenty of time". He was not a man of "causes", for his duties to the Diocese and to Berkeley al- lowed him to serve but one cause - his Church.
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