Providentially, however, another circumstance occurred, which finally decided me. It is of so atrocious a character, that if there were not several now living, who witnessed the whole transaction, I would scarcely mention it; or if I did, it could be with little or no hope of being believed by Americans, although some money is mixed up with the affair.
There lived in Philadelphia, about the year 1822 or 1823, a gentleman of high character as a sea captain and otherwise. He commanded an East-Indiaman, belonging to one of the wealthiest houses in that city. One of the firm now lives there, though at an advanced period of life. This captain of whom I speak, was in the habit of visiting Baltimore, whenever he returned from the East Indies. He was a remarkably fine-looking man, and believed to be worth from one hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand dollars. He shipped largely upon his own account, and was successful.
While in Baltimore, he formed an attachment for a Roman Catholic lady of beauty, but no fortune.
The Reverend Mr. K———, the Stonyhurst Jesuit, whom I mentioned, happened to be there during one of the captain's visits to that city, to see this lady. The Jesuit having discovered who the captain was, what he was, and how much money he was worth, obtained an introduction to him from this Roman Catholic lady. He soon found that, like most men whose lives have been spent upon the sea, he was a frank, open-hearted man. A little further intimacy satisfied him, that he was deeply in love with this Popish lady. His course was now clear. The Jesuit serpent saw plainly that his prey was within striking distance; that he need only coil himself into a proper attitude and spring upon it at his leisure. He represented to the captain, that the lady to whom he was paying his attentions was one of the most amiable and excellent of her sex; highly approved of the captain's taste and judgment; with many other such observations. The captain was more and more pleased with the object of his affections, and urged his suit with increased assiduity. The Jesuit in the mean time was not idle; his eye rested with a serpent-like fascinating gaze upon the movements and money of the captain. He had private interviews with the lady. He contrived to have her become his penitent, and go to confession to him. 15
His control over her in future was boundless. She lost her identity as a member of society. She almost ceased to be a human being; a rational one she could not be. She became a thing, a mere thing to be shaped and moulded as her holy father the Jesuit directed. He spoke to her of the captain, of his great attachment to her, and recommended to her to marry him, but on condition that he should become a Roman Catholic. He talked eloquently of the awful consequences of having a member of the infallible church unite herself to a heretic, whom she knew to be excommunicated and damned by the Pope and the holy church, as all heretics are, and finally obtained from the young lady a solemn promise that she should never marry her suitor, until he became a member of the church of Rome.
When the captain next called to see her, the lady told him that she had one objection, and only one, to marrying him; unless that was removed, she could never consent to do so; and stated to him what that objection was. The unsuspecting and frank sailor, not being a professor of any religion, and caring very little to what church he might go, replied, that he would as soon be a Roman Catholic as anything else. All things were now arranged, except the formality of uniting with the Popish church. The Jesuit was sent for, and it was agreed that the marriage should take place in a few weeks, during which time the captain, under the direction of the Jesuit, was to prepare himself for confession; a necessary preliminary for joining the Popish church.
It is a custom with Jesuits, and almost with all priests of the Romish church, to require of those who are about uniting with them, to go into what they call a retreat; viz. to enter into some retired or secluded place, where they will have an opportunity of communing with themselves, without interruption from the world or its busy citizens. The Jesuit recommended to his unfortunate dupe, the captain, to retire to————convent, where he might be alone as much as he pleased, and where he would hear nothing but songs of praise to the Most High God, from blessed monks and nuns.
The captain, according to orders, entered upon his retreat. Before I proceed further, I will observe that this captain, of whom I am speaking, had a remarkably beautiful set of teeth, of which it was said he was extremely vain. He was not many days upon his retreat, when symptoms of derangement became evident; and one day, while under the influence of some natural or artificial cause—the reader may guess which—the unfortunate gentleman went down to Alexandria, called upon a dentist in that city or neighborhood, and insisted that he should pull out seven teeth from each jaw. In vain did the dentist remonstrate; out they must come, and out they did come.
The Jesuit hastened to Baltimore, called upon the lady who was engaged to be married, told her the captain was insane, beyond recovery, and that she should be thankful to the Virgin Mary, who caused this visitation in time to prevent her from being married to a madman. Judge you, Americans, of the feelings of this lady on that occasion, and say what ought to be the punishment of the incarnate fiend who occasioned them. The poor captain, though considerably recovered, continued to be partially deranged; but it assumed a character of religious gloom and melancholy. The Jesuit returned to————, seeming to do all in his power to lighten the spiritual load which lay upon the captain's soul. He became his confessor, and soon persuaded him that the only way of saving his soul, was to convey to the order of Jesuits what property he possessed, and to become a Popish priest; that he had a visit from the Virgin Mary, who ordered him to tell him—the captain—that he must take holy orders; that there was a grand field opened for him to promote the cause of religion and the saints; that he must go forthwith to Philadelphia, where an infamous heretic called Hogan was spreading most damnable heresies. Will you believe it, Americans? It is drawing almost too heavily upon you to do so. He did come to Philadelphia, and preached against the heretic Hogan and Hoganism, a fact which fifty thousand people now living there can attest. But quantum mutatus! When he left it some time before, he was a happy, honorable and fine-looking man. He was wealthy, and he obtained his wealth by honest industry. But how was he now, the distorted shadow of what he was; penniless, toothless, and a senseless fanatic, drugged into madness, and by whom?—by nuns, who act in the treble capacity of cooks, teachers, and prostitutes for Jesuits. This is harsh language indeed. Call it gross, if you please, reader; but if you will figure to yourself for a moment an honorable man, a native of these United States, a fine specimen of manly proportions and manly beauty, and then conceive this individual reduced to the condition to which I and thousands now living have seen this noble-hearted sailor of whom I have spoken, reduced, my language will appear neither harsh nor coarse.
What! must we call Jesuit assassins reverend gentlemen? Must we call robbers honest men? Must we call their accessories—nuns—ladies of virtue? Sympathizers may do so; but I do not write for them alone. I write for men of sense; I write for lovers of their God and their country; I write not for advocates of Puseyism, or such exploded fooleries as they believe in. Whatever I say, is intended for those alone who have the capacity of distinguishing between common sense and mental vagaries, and who have the honesty to call things by their proper names.