III.—THE FOUNDING OF LORETTO.
In March, 1795, Demetrius Gallitzin was ordained priest, and at once set to work; for in April we already find him at Port Tobacco with another missionary. The self-forgetful zeal and splendid spiritual gallantry which were to characterize his long and arduous apostolical career at once showed themselves. In the very first month of his new labors there was a letter from Bishop Carroll bidding him moderate his ardor and spare his strength more; for it had reached his Lordship's ears that the young priest would often travel unconscionable distances in his love for souls, even "in weather unfit for a dog." Bishop Carroll knew only too well from personal experience what sort of entertainment awaited the weary missionary after a journey of this kind. So Gallitzin was ordered to return to Baltimore for a while to take charge of the German Catholics, who were clamoring for a priest conversant with their language.
Gallitzin remained for two or three years, first at Conewago, a settlement composed mainly of Germans; and then at Taneytown, Maryland, which had an exclusively English-speaking community; so that he had to resort to this language, which he soon learned not only to speak but also to write with singular ease and purity. Indeed toward the end of his life his German grew very rusty. After all, French had been the fashion at home; and there was now a strong feeling that Gallitzin preferred the English and Irish sheep of his flock to his own country people. If so, it was not unnatural: the Irish and English emigrants were often excellent specimens of their countrymen; whereas in those days the settlers from Germany were frequently the reverse. But this is anticipating.
He had not been long at Taneytown before he and his church-trustees fell out,—a thing at that time so common that it would not be worth mentioning, says his biographer, had it not been the occasion of making Gallitzin first think of founding an independent colony established on entirely Catholic lines.
In the year 1798 Bishop Carroll wrote to inform him that some of his flock had been complaining of his harshness and high-handedness. The good Bishop knew how to take such an accusation with a very large grain of salt; still he thought it well to remind his ardent missionary to temper zeal for God's glory with gentleness and forbearance toward his neighbor. The advice was given in the most paternal spirit; and it may well have been that Gallitzin, with the blood of many a Russian despot in his veins, should sometimes have found it difficult to accommodate himself to the ways of American democracy. But he was singularly clear-headed as well as far-seeing; and not many years were needed to prove to the rising episcopate that he had been contending for something worth a contest—the freedom and independence of action of the clergy, without which a priest's position in regard to his flock becomes false and untenable. The trustee system, which answers among the various Protestant sects, does not work well in a Catholic parish. The priest's position is that of the spiritual father of a family, not that of a salaried preacher to a congregation of critics.
It may here be objected that trustees were useful in the erection of churches, founding of missions, etc. Even in such cases it is not clear that the system worked well. In a new country, where speculation was the order of the day, sharp practice might be resorted to in the building of a church or school as unscrupulously as in that of a theatre or factory. Sacred buildings would be erected with borrowed money, which might be reclaimed by an unfortunate speculator at a moment when it was impossible to pay back the loan; and thus a church might come under the hammer, without any regard to its holy character.
Pews—of the old-fashioned kind, provided with lock and key—filled the churches, and were let to the highest bidders by auction. To Gallitzin, such a system, which left the poor no alternative but to be jostled in the doorway or to stop at home, was an abomination. He also strongly resented trial sermons, such as are usual among Presbyterians, where the congregations are free to choose whichever candidate has pleased them best by his discourse. Gallitzin could not and would not be a parish priest under such conditions. It was not for this that he had left home and country and fortune and honors.
In his old age he was asked how the strange idea had ever entered his head of wandering forth into the wilderness to found his Catholic colony, from whence at first he had had to send no less than fifty miles to the nearest mill, and twice as far for coffee, salt, sugar, and other necessaries. He replied: "I migrated to get away from trustees, pew-renting, and all the other evils connected with the system; and there were no means of escape but to devise another system with laws of its own. Wherever the work had been already begun, it was spoiled because Catholics had always copied Protestants. I recollect going to Philadelphia to pay Brosius a visit and to see what the place was like. While saying Mass in the church belonging to the Germans, I heard a constant rolling and banging, with shouts and loud speaking. When I asked what it all meant, I was told that there was a cellar under the church which had been let by the trustees to a wine and spirit merchant. 'Well, well,' I said to myself, 'and has it really come to this? Never will I enter that church again.'"
The idea which soon shaped itself in his mind was to found a little Catholic community in the far West. The "far West" in those days was Pennsylvania; for anything still farther was as yet a complete wilderness, infested by Indians and wild beasts. A small colony had some years previously settled in the present St. Vincent, and thence a few families had pushed on about fifty miles to the northeast into the Allegheny Mountains.
Gallitzin, who had occasionally visited these people from Taneytown, decided to cast in his lot among them, and accordingly wrote to the Bishop for the necessary permission. In his reply the Bishop expressed great surprise at so strange a request, and doubted whether Gallitzin would have strength for so arduous an undertaking. However, he added: "I will grant your petition, and heartily agree to your evangelizing from thence the districts you mention—Huntington and other places lying nearer to the East, and consequently to civilization."
In the August of 1799 Gallitzin and his flock set out for the new mission, in which the indefatigable pastor was to labor for forty years, and where he was to find his last resting-place. Several respectable families, all Catholics, accompanied him; these were people who were too poor to acquire land in already civilized districts.
A journey of this kind was in those days no light matter; for roads were altogether wanting. Women, children and baggage went on pack-horses, or in carts and sledges drawn by oxen; the men acted as pioneers, clearing the way for the caravan to follow. Only short distances could be travelled in one day, and at night they had all to camp in the forests.
An Irishman of the name of McGuire had left a rough tract of land to Bishop Carroll as church property; this the Bishop now handed over to Gallitzin, who, besides, bought out of his own fortune another large piece of ground, which he let to his poor parishioners on most easy terms. Indeed for many plots he never received a penny.
The first buildings erected in the speedily-cleared settlement were two modest log edifices,—one the church, the other the presbytery. On Christmas night, 1799, the first Mass was said in the new church. Fervor was great: no one thought of sleep; all had been made as festive as possible with evergreen decorations and as many candles and tapers as could be mustered in the wilderness. "Thus," observes Gallitzin's biographer, "it came to pass that on a spot where but a year previously had stood a primeval forest, a handful of wanderers of various countries and tongues found a home under the care of an exiled prince; and where formerly at the solemn midnight hour no sounds had been heard but the howling of wolves, now resounded the glad song of the heavenly hosts: 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good-will!'"
The same writer proceeds to draw a pretty picture of the devoted part a priest like Gallitzin is bound to play in a settlement as yet without police, magistrate, doctor, or lawyer: "The love of Christ urges him; he is not satisfied with just fulfilling his priestly duties, such as preaching at stated times, and then treating the hundred little things of daily life that affect humanity with proud disdain, as much as to say, 'That is no affair of mine.' On the contrary, he enters into all his people's interests, is easy of approach to all. He writes their letters to Germany, Ireland or France; and when he is on his missionary rounds he carries back the answers from distant postal stations. He is not too grand to bring the women folk the little necessaries which can be procured only at a great distance and which others might easily forget—some pepper or a packet of needles, and so forth. All this begets appreciation ending in unbounded trust and affection; and as the priest in a new mission of this kind is generally the only educated man, he is soon all in all to his parishioners. He has become a centre of unity, about which the most heterogeneous elements gather in love and obedience; and a patriarchal form of government is once more possible."
It must be admitted that in his great generosity Gallitzin spent more money than was wise upon his beloved settlement; yet he had good reasons for thinking himself wealthy. So long as his mother was able she kept him liberally supplied with money for all his good works, even at the cost of considerable self-sacrifice. At the death of his parents the fortune would be his sister's, and she had solemnly promised that she would "share and share alike" with her brother.
His father never sent him any money, but occasionally wrote to him. In his last letter he says, wistfully: "We are both getting on in years; your mother is, moreover, broken by ill health.... There is no time to lose if you wish to see us once more. Besides, your presence here is necessary, in spite of your deed relinquishing all claim to my fortune; for unless the precise legal formalities are observed, the inheritance may be lost to Mimi likewise, and go to the next of kin."
But it was impossible for Gallitzin to leave. Not only was he absolutely essential to the life and social well-being of his model little colony, but it would have meant much spiritual loss as well; and the brave priest decided to remain at his post. Not without sacrifice, however,—heroic sacrifice. In 1803 he wrote to his mother that he had been hoping to find a substitute so as to be able to go to Europe; he had always feared this might be impossible, but of late years his work had increased to such a degree that he began to doubt whether he should ever see Münster and his dear mother again.
"I dare not," he writes, "trust myself to think about it; for when I do my heart trembles, and I feel as if I positively must see you once more.... But God knows what is best under the circumstances and most conducive to His honor.... The number of priests here seems to decrease, while the number of Catholics goes on increasing. I know you are perfectly resigned to the will of God under all circumstances—indeed far more so than I am,—and that your one real desire is to meet me safe in the bosom of our Heavenly Father when the gates of death are passed."
In March, 1803, Gallitzin's father died, leaving no will. The Princess hoped against hope to secure something for Demetrius, and once more asked him to return, if it were at all possible. He thereupon visited Bishop Carroll, and laid the whole state of the case simply before him, ready to abide by his decision. His Lordship came to the conclusion he ought not to leave; and Gallitzin returned to his beloved flock once more, never to leave them again even for so short an absence.
That his noble mother understood and approved of his decision was shown in a very acceptable form. First arrived a substantial cheque, then a large box containing books, rosaries and pictures; another with a quantity of linen for himself and his poor parishioners, all worked by herself and her friends. Long years after, an aged woman showed Gallitzin's biographer, with great pride, a dainty christening robe, and told him it had been made by the pious mother of their own blessed Father. "I was baptized in it, and every one of my children; and I now keep it as a sacred relic for my grandchildren."
Another still more acceptable present did the Princess send; this was a complete set of church vestments made by herself, her daughter, and the Countess Stolberg. Gallitzin was particularly fond of the alb, which was a masterpiece of needlecraft. He wore it on all great feasts; and, according to his wish, he also wore it when laid in his grave.
Gallitzin, as he quietly travelled back to his little colony after his interview with the Bishop, never dreamed what bitter crosses were in store for him. He knew he had turned his back upon all that makes life pleasant—upon love and sympathy and congenial friends; he had embraced a life of hardship; he was to spend himself and to be spent among rough, uneducated strangers, unable to appreciate or to understand him. But beyond all this, persecutions, opposition, ingratitude and calumny were to tame his ardent spirit and bring it captive to the Cross of Christ. Indeed, so relentless was the storm, so fierce the persecution, often from those who owed him everything and who ended by loving him enthusiastically, that we can only account for it by saying that the devil, seeing the good that was being done, raged against its author with full fury in the expectation of driving him to despair.