No sooner, however, had the zealous missionary founded his town than a speculator arose ready to "undercut" him in every way. He also started his opposition town, which, as he was an Irishman, he called Münster. Unfortunately, a German tailor, after deciding to settle at Münster, changed his mind and came to Loretto. This was taken in very bad part by the Münster worthies. Their ringleader was only a nominal Catholic; he gave such bad example that Gallitzin, as his pastor, could not leave him unreproved. The wretched man was now able to make himself out a martyr. He "talked big" of priests who loved power and gold, and were ever ready to tread a poor but honest enterpriser underfoot. The laxer members of the community, who had chafed against Gallitzin's high moral code, soon joined the malcontent party; to this were also added certain ambitious people who had hoped to be church-wardens, trustees, and so forth, and who resented Gallitzin's keeping the reins of government in his own strong hands.
At this most inopportune moment there appeared on the scene a priest of whose past Gallitzin knew far too much to be able to entrust him with any ecclesiastical duties. On the other hand, the Prince's high sense of honor and charity made him unwilling to expose the poor man's history. His only return for Gallitzin's clemency was to stir up the people, and represent himself as persecuted on account of the parish priest's jealousy and avarice.
And as if all this were not enough, a Westphalian turned up who had known Gallitzin in Münster. He was a lazy ne'er-do-well, who thought it would be very fine to live at a rich prince's expense. After treating him with great kindness and giving him the chance to work, Gallitzin, finding him incorrigible, was finally obliged to send him away. Then the man spread the most odious calumnies against his benefactor, hinting this, asserting that; asking if it were "natural" that, if everything were all right and square, a Russian Prince of large fortune should be called "Herr Schmet" and bury himself in Loretto. For once the wretch had surmised correctly: no, it was not natural.
Gallitzin was too high-souled to take notice of this dastardly mud-throwing. As usual, the pastor continued to go about "doing good"—calm, fearless, kindly,—and that at a time when, at length, he was in danger of his life. One day he was seized upon by a set of roughs bent on extorting from him all kinds of concessions which would have done away with his influence forever. As he remained firm, they became so threatening that he sought shelter in his chapel, where he would have had to sustain a regular siege but for the timely intervention of a certain John Weakland, known as the tallest and strongest man within a hundred miles. Like most giants, he was sparing of words, gentle and peaceable; but he was a great admirer of Gallitzin, with whom he had travelled from Maryland.
As soon as John appeared, the roughs paused a little, thinking he intended to beat about right and left with the monster staff he held in his hand; but, far more wonderful, he made a speech. "In my day," he cried, "I have fought with bears and other wild beasts, but up to this I have never, thank God, injured any human being. Now things may be quite changed, if you don't go home at once and behave yourselves. For whoever makes a row near God's house or dares to lay a finger on the Lord's anointed, let him look to it"—and he brandished his staff,—"for so true as I'm a living man I'll dash his brains out!" The situation had required a master-hand. The better-disposed now rallied round honest John, and but for Gallitzin's timely interference the affair might have ended in bloodshed.
Bishop Carroll wrote private letters of comfort to his sorely-tried missionary. He also wrote a public notice, dated Nov. 30, 1804, which was nailed to the church door. It ran as follows:
"I think it necessary, dear children in Christ, to inform you, the faithful of Reverend Mr. Schmet's community, that I am cognizant of the differences that have arisen between him and some of his parishioners. All the information I have obtained has convinced me that Mr. Schmet, in all that has taken place, was never actuated by any other motives than those of charity and zeal for the good of those entrusted to his care. Moreover, I know that he is quite open to reconciliation: that he will be ready to treat all members of his community with fatherly affection; and that it is their simple duty to give proofs of their confidence and readiness to profit by his pastoral care. Indeed they ought to be forever grateful to him for enduring so many hardships for their sakes. Moved by the love of God and of their souls, he has generously renounced great earthly advantages.
"✠J., BISHOP OF BALTIMORE."
Peace and order were now once more restored. Many of the offenders, after begging Gallitzin's pardon, became his stanchest friends. It was noticed that a person who refused to do this died not long afterward a horrible death; whereas the good John Weakland died only fifteen years after Gallitzin, at a very great age, leaving a posterity of over a hundred souls. He was followed to the grave by a great-granddaughter carrying her child in her arms.
But now another ordeal began for Gallitzin,—one that was to continue to harass him for thirty long years. After his father's death his mother found herself involved in a tedious and expensive lawsuit, to obtain her just rights. She won the lawsuit but died before reaping any benefit therefrom; her daughter Mimi now came in for the fortune. During the last ten years of her life, despite all her efforts, Amalie had not been able to help her son as much as formerly. But he, counting on her ever-ready purse, and upon his sister's repeated promises as to the future, had not only conceived great plans, but had unfortunately begun to carry them out. And as the weary months went by and brought no remittances from Europe, his poverty increased till at times he had barely enough to keep body and soul together. To one of Gallitzin's temperament that, however, was not the sting of the trial: the real sting was to see his noble daydreams—that had been so practical, so excellent as well as noble—doomed to disappointment, and himself reduced to the humiliating position of a seeming foolish enthusiast who had begun to build ere counting the cost.