The Story of the
Mountain
Mount Saint
Mary's College and Seminary
Mary E. Meline & Edward F.X. McSween
Published by the Emmitsburg Chronicle, 1911
Chapter 46 |
Chapter Index
Chapter 47: 1858
In April, 1858, Archbishop Hughes
urged upon the Holy See the propriety
of erecting the Archdiocese of
Baltimore into a Primatial See. The
new dignity was, however, says Mr.
Hassard, not conferred in accordance
with these suggestions, but merely a
"prerogative of place" by which
precedence is given to the Archbishop
of Baltimore in Councils or assemblies
of the Hierarchy of the United States.
Archbishop Hughes was particularly
interested in the establishment of an
American college at Rome; it had been
his proposition in 1855, and it was he
whom Pius IX first informed of its
projected establishment. In 1857 the
Pope purchased the ancient convent of
the Umilta for 42,000 scudi (dollars)
and gave it to the American Church for
this purpose. The American bishops
were required to furnish it and
contribute to its support, and
Archbishop Hughes was the first of our
bishops to take up a collection for
it, but the students were to attend
the classes of the Propaganda as did
those of other national colleges. The
only officers, therefore, would be a
rector and vice-rector, to be
salaried. The first of these was to be
chosen by the Pope from three
candidates nominated by the bishops of
the United States.
The Umilta being occupied by French
troops who were unwilling to leave it,
much vexation and delay was
occasioned, so that it was not till
December, 1859, that the college
opened.
Mr. Charles O'Leary having
withdrawn from the Faculty of Mount
St. Mary's and accepted a place in
that of her western daughter, writes
thus to "Ferdy Chatard":
Mount St. Mary's College, Cinti.,
Ohio. April 9th, 1858.
My dear Ferdy: . . . We expect a
large school here next year, and
shall be prepared to furnish
students every advantage they can
derive from a College. Two of the
Faculty are from the Emmitsburg
College. We hope to have a magazine
connected with the place . . . and
are thinking of introducing an
academic costume, the gown and cap
of English schools, among the
students. Some think it would be
very useful near a city. . . .
At the Commencement in June, 1858,
the places of Bishop Elder, Rev. David
Whelan and Charles O'Leary were yet
unfilled.
The prefects were Charles Hone,
John Koch, Thomas Lonergan, Thomas
McGovern (future Bishop of
Harrisburg).
The roll shows one hundred and
ninety-six students, of whom five were
graduated. The honors were awarded to
James M. Slevin, valedictorian; John
B. Devereux, Charles V. Luken, Francis
Gignoux, John C. Finney, Hugh McAleer,
William Burnham, Francis Mudd and
Joseph Fitzgerald. The evening
previous lectures with experiments in
chemistry were given by the students.
[This is the first mention of such
lectures in the College history, and
they continued to take place up to
about 1890.] Fathers Mullen, '24, and
Rafferty, "25, men of the early days,
attracted much interest on the
occasion.
"The speeches were distinguished
for vigorous and manly thought," says
the Mirror, "and were well delivered.
The music was by the inmates of the
College, led by the Professor of
Music. It was well performed, but
unfortunately there was too much of
it. This surfeit of music is the only
real objection we have ever heard to
the Mountain Commencements. Music is
so very common we hear it at home, in
the church, on the streets, at all
times, day and night so that when we
go to enjoy an intellectual treat at
our colleges we should like to have it
given to us in minimum doses."
Father Alexius Elder, S. S., writes
from Baltimore, Aug. 1, 1858, to Dr.
McCaffrey, referring to the forwarding
of the Dubois monument, of which
mention has been made already in this
history, and to marking the site of
the first altar in the Elder mansion.
He says: "Get a copy of Uncle Aloysius
Elder's will to see how he disposed of
the graveyard and also copy of deeds
from Burke to the Rev. gentlemen, and
also their deed to Dr. Shorb." (If he
lived today he would add: "and of Dr.
Shorb to John Thomas Cretin," etc.,
etc.) "If Uncle Aloysius willed the
graveyard to the congregation or to
the College he must have left a right
of way thereto, and without this right
the spot is useless to us. ... " J. T.
Cretin and wife made a deed to Abp.
Elder about 1878, but it was never
recovered. By it they gave him a large
triangle of land north of the
graveyard in exchange for the Negroes'
burying-ground to the south of it. The
Negroes' burial-plot was then plowed
under. A survey and map of the whole
is in the Cabinet.
Abp. Hughes and Bishop Elder began
new cathedrals this year. The former
wrote to Rome, Aug. 12, that he
expected to avail himself of Cyrus
Field's promise and "send a message to
the Pope of Rome about the
corner-stone of St. Patrick's on the
day of its laying, Aug. 15, and
receive a reply the same day," for the
Atlantic Cable, the first to cross an
ocean, was then approaching
completion, and Abp. Hughes got the
right to the first message after that
between the President of the United
States and the Queen of England. In
the procession celebrating its
achievement Abp. Hughes rode in a
carriage in which, as he wrote to Dr.
McCaffrey, were the British Minister,
as well as a Presbyterian clergyman
and Edward Everett.
Abp. Kenrick wrote, Sept. 3, 1858,
to the President, who had invited him
to the Semi-Centennial Jubilee to be
held the following month: "I share
cordially in your joy at this jubilee
of the College established and carried
on despite so many difficulties, with
such advantage to religion, as well as
literature, and pray that it may
continue to flourish ad multos
annos. ..."
Abp. Purcell had to excuse himself
from the Jubilee on the score of
health. He writes that he had just
sent his contribution of five thousand
dollars towards the American College
in Rome.
Father Butler, '31, a former
President, writes, Sept. 23, that as
the Bishop of Covington was going to
the Jubilee, he being Vicar-General
could not come to " our ever and
dearly loved Mountain. . . . May God
ever prosper it and endow with His
choicest graces and blessings the
hearts and minds of those who labor to
perpetuate and extend its usefulness
and its glory. ..."
Bishop Bayley writes that, though
not a Mountaineer in the strict sense
of the word, still " on account of the
feelings I entertain towards the 'dear
Mountain,' as Bishop Brute used to
call it, I may be regarded as a sort
of ' proselyte of the Gate.' ..."
Rev. John F. McGerry, C. M., Third
President, writes from St. Vincent's
College, St. Louis, Sept. 24, 1858:
"It was on the 6th of October, 1826,
that Dubois transferred the Mountain
to Michael Egan and J. F. McGerry. ...
I entered in 1809. Am now 62, but can
still do my forty miles or more on
horseback, teach four hours a day,
besides being vice-president, etc.,
etc. Sorry I can't go. ... Did you
think of inviting Jerome Napoleon
Bonaparte? He was my classmate in
Horace with Charles Carroll 3rd. ..."
Bishop Portier, of Mobile, recalls
his residence at the Mountain in 1817,
but "being too weak to travel and
being in the midst of pestilence I
must remain to encourage my priests by
my presence. ..."
Chief Justice Roger Brooke Taney, a
neighbor, writes pleading his
inability to attend owing to ill
health. Many other laymen and clergy
sent letters of excuse, but of hearty
attachment: Edward and Thomas McGrath,
of South Carolina; T. E. B. Pegues, of
Mississippi; Thomas E. Irby, of
Dallas, Texas; James Gowan, of Mount
Airy, Pa.; William Fry, of
Philadelphia; Alfred Larocque, of
Montreal; etc., etc., etc.
We must quote again from Father
Mullen, of New Orleans, who regrets
that he cannot return to meet his
friend of thirty-five years standing:
It was that bond of affection
which emboldened me to broach the
topic introduced into my last
letter, and which still in the
existing state of things constrains
me to beg for the subject, for the
glory of the College, further,
deeper and more mature consideration
from the loved and distinguished
President of the College. It is
impossible for him to know to what
an extent that portion of discipline
so horrible and odious has operated
in the south against the
institution. Pardon, my dearest
friend, but can any justifiable
reason be given for this corporal
punishment? They have abolished it
in the Navy and Army of the United
States and the officers with whom I
have had opportunity to speak on the
subject acknowledged freely that the
men were better, more easily
managed, and of higher turn of
character than before. Try the
experiment for a year in the
College. Let dismissal be the
penalty of grievous violation of
discipline. The College, ample as it
is, would not contain the postulants
for admission under such rule.
Don't say "Pshaw! what is old
Father Mullen dreaming of? He must
be in his dotage ''' Is o, dear Mac,
they are the words of soberness and
truth, and you will live long enough
to see the truth of them. There are
things of that nature done in the
College of which I know you never
hear . . .
Father T. J. Donaghue, V. G.,
writes from Dubuque and calls his
"devoted friend" Abp. Hughes "Con
of the Hundred Battles, who in the
race outstript Queen Victoria and her
ocean telegram," from which it would
appear that Abp. Hughes got in his
message to the Pope first on the new
cable.
Levi Silliman Ives, formerly
Protestant Episcopal bishop of North
Carolina, and the second bishop of
that sect to re-enter the fold of his
fathers, wrote excusing himself as
"having a lecture to deliver at
Manhattanville," New York City.
John R. Iglehart writes from New
York:
Be it a weakness it deserves some
praise, We love the play-place of
our early days. Dear is the
schoolboy's spot We ne' er forget
though there we are forgot. . . .
Bishop Barry, of Savannah,
acknowledging an invitation to the
Jubilee, speaks of " semi-centennial
celebration of the foundation of your
I must say our national college." He
gives as the chief reason for his not
coming: "We have three young priests
not acclimated, and were they taken
down in my absence I would not forgive
myself."
Discipline at the Mountain under
Dr. McCaffrey's regime was, as our
readers will have surmised, of the
heroic. The doctor was a forcible
speaker, and discoursed, moreover, on
whatever subject offered, sometimes
talking for an hour and a quarter, but
invariably winding up with the Fourth
Commandment. In his latter days
especially he was verbose, and it was
with mingled feelings, of no holy
nature, we regret to say, that the
boys saw the chair brought out and
placed upon the altar-platform, for
towards the end of his life he taught
literally ex cathedra. But talking of
the discipline he "spared not the rod"
lest he should "spoil the child." No
matter who the culprit was or whence
or how big, he had to get on Billy
Welty's back and receive his quota of
stripes. "We whip slaves in my
country," said a proud Cuban to the
Doctor. "We whip freemen, too, in my
country. Get on Billy's back." The
first blow received, the don said, "I
am disgraced." "No, you're not; the
shame is in doing wrong, not in
accepting the consequences and the
remedy." In fact, the youth
shamefacedly re-entered the
study-hall, but was wonderfully
relieved to find that no one seemed to
pay any attention to him ; he was
simply the latest victim. Whatever we
may think to-day of corporal
punishment, it certainly left an
impression, and though at the time it
was sometimes undergone with feelings
of anger and resentment, yet it was by
some at least recalled with gratitude.
We know a boy who had been severely
punished. He said to his closest chum,
as the latter told us years after: "I
wish I was out of here; but if ever I
have boys, it's here they'll come." A
priest who was a child here in the
latter 60's related how he was
punished for an act of disobedience
which every one of his companions
considered highly creditable to him,
but which was visited with severe
retribution, and this at the hands of
a prefect who was quite attached to
the boy but had to carry out the
program. Some time after the child's
mother came to see him, and, to her
surprise, he asked for a box of cigars
to give to his friend the prefect who
had been the minister of justice in
his case. Whipping, "lamming" and
"whaling" was a tradition of "the
fathers," and reverently adhered to,
just as it is in England to-day, where
in the great public schools frequented
by the sons of the nobility the latter
refuse to consent to the abolition of
the rod, at least as far as their own
children are concerned, and the boys
at Stonyhurst told their foreign
prefect it were "stupid" to do so. "
It happened once that Dr. McCaffrey
punished me severely," said General
B———, of New Orleans, " and I wrote to
my father, Judge B———, then in New
York. He came down as fast as
circumstances in those days permitted,
to have it out with the Doctor. But
the result was not as he and I had
anticipated. I don't know what the
stern old Roman said to the irate
magistrate, but after a while I was
called in, and my father said: 'Give
him another dose, Doctor!' " It was
this incident to which Miles referred
in those lines in "Aladdin's Palace ":
Touch the young tyrant like
Olympian Jove The avenging sire
defends his injured lore, Clutches a
cowhide, contemplates a suit, Talks
wildly of a martyr and a brute. The
worst disgrace his freeborn son can
know Is not to merit, but receive a
blow; Honor, that prompts the
pistol, damns the rod, Let beasts
alone divide the scourge with God.
In 1866 a slight insurrection
occurred, "on account of nothing, I
suppose," said one who was a little
boy at the time, and thirteen large
boys walked out of the College. Dr.
McCaffrey let them go. Some of them
never returned, some did come back,
and "he whipped them terribly," at
least the little boy so understood.
That they got a whipping there is no
question, and the expounder of the
Fourth Commandment was not the man to
let them fail to feel the evil results
of disobedience. The manner itself of
the Doctor was stern and severe. "I
had rather be kicked out of the room
by Father John MeCloskey," said a
former student, "than be bowed out by
Doctor McCaffrey." Indeed often was he
besought to lessen the severity of his
discipline, as may be seen from
letters found in the archives. For all
that "the Doctor" was human too, as
his intimates let us know ; his
relations with George Miles show this,
and an anecdote related to us of
himself by a priest. It seems that
long ago they used to have a musicale
on St. Cecilia's Day, and it was a
trick played on the new boys to send
them to Dr. McCaffrey for tickets.
"The Doctor gave me an apple," said
the narrator.
Whenever one was sent up by the
prefect, however, it would appear that
punishment was the rule, so much so
that this is told of the brilliant and
gentle philosopher Father McMurdie: A
boy approached him one day when, much
to his discomfort, he was left in sole
charge of the house. "I was sent, sir,
by the prefect," began the boy. "Oh,
you were!" the priest replied,
beginning at once to use the switch.
"Sir," continued the presumed culprit
when he got a chance, "I wanted to
become a Catholic and the prefect
sent me to you." Tableau. The boy
never became a Catholic so far as
known to this anestor.
The "Jug," referred to above, is an
institution at the Mountain which all
students remember, though some may
have passed through the College
without becoming, through personal
experience, acquainted therewith. Many
a time has it happened to the writer
to pass by its portal and note the
ominous silence of the occupant who
was abandoned to its privacy, though
so near the prefect's room that a
slight movement or call of his would
be heard at once. Rarely did the
prisoner give audible vent to his
sentiments after the door was closed
upon him, though sometimes his
sentiments found very forcible
expression. A distinguished
ecclesiastic giving a retreat to the
boys some years ago made his
"confession" to them, as he put it,
and told how he was "jugged " for
failure to make a first attempt at
poetic composition. "I didn't know how
to begin," he said. "At last in
desperation I composed a distich
Poeta nascitur, non
fit; The nail upon the head I' ve
hit,
and handed it in. Somewhat to his
disappointment his excellent teacher
of English, the late Father Fallon, of
Wil-mington, Delaware, refused to
accept this specimen and the prisoner
was remanded again and again, and
until he "became a regular jail-bird."
At last a friend said to him : "Make a
try at it, Noll." He made a "try," and
to the great astonishment of himself,
if not of his professor, succeeded in
the very bold task of writing twelve
stanzas for Washington's Birthday in
the metre of that gem of Miles's, " I
am weary of the garden, said the
rose."
The philosophy of the "jug" system
and its efficiency in helping boys to
correct their faults is further
illustrated by what one of our
students told of another place, where,
however, such a feature of discipline
was carried to what at the Mountain
would have been considered an extreme.
It would appear that the best boy in
the graduating class had been ensnared
by the "what's-the-use-of-Greek"
theory, and frankly told the president
of the institution that he would not
study Greek any further "could not,"
in fact, his conscience forbidding it.
The president argued in vain to
convince the student, and then
telegraphed to the boy's father, who
promptly replied that his son was to
do as he was told by his superiors,
and was to be compelled to do so. He
was, regretfully on the part of all,
sent to the lockup, a dark room, with
bread and water served at due
intervals by the janitor. The prisoner
held out for three days, and then
requested an audience of the
president, who joyfully granted it.
"Mr. New-come," said the boy, "I beg
to be restored to my class. I see now,
sir, that I was doing a rash and
unreasonable thing in refusing to be
guided by my teachers, by you and by
my father. I beg your pardon."
Tableau. At the end of the year he
graduated at the head of his class.
There is wisdom in the "Jug"
principle. "Ducam eum in
solitudinem et loquar ad cor illius
" (I will lead him into solitude
and will speak to his heart), says the
Holy Bible: Osee, II, 14.
"Billy Welty," as he was familiarly
called, had been a fellow-student of "
Father John's" and boasted of having
once accepted in silence a thrashing
which was merited by the latter. He
served the College man and boy for
some threescore years, faithful to his
duty of looking after the lamps and
the stoves. He objected very naturally
when the boys attached firecrackers to
the gas-jets and played other similar
tricks, and doubtless was tempted to
feelings of exultation when he hoisted
them on his back (this being one of
his functions) to receive due
castigation at the hands of authority.
Billy was very methodical, and towards
the end of his life administered coal
in homeopathic quantities, making it
necessary for the professors, like so
many Oliver Twists, to ask him for
more. A certain professor had a taste
for chemical investigation and Billy
told us how the gentleman used to
stain the windows with all kinds of
things. But " he bun awful lot coal,
he did." This professor had a room
that was much exposed and complained
frequently that his stove did not work
well. This, however, was in the dark
days after the collapse of 1881, when
we were all on short commons and half
pay, and so nothing was done. It
happened that in the spring when the
stoves were being taken down a brick
fell out of the pipe in this
professor's room. Everybody was
astonished and it was "up" to Billy to
explain this prodigy. "I expect it
fall down the chimley," said he.
However everything pointed to the fact
that Billy himself had placed the
brick there in order to check Mr. N's
ardor for burning coal. Billy and his
consort died about 1896. He was buried
with honor, all the members of the
faculty assisting at his requiem.
Jan., 1858. There was an emeute
at Georgetown also about this time
but it did not amount to much. The
spirit of secession was in the air.
Letters came to the President
Feb. 6, ' 58, expressing surprise
that two boys in particular had been
expelled. They were those to whom
Prof. O" Leary had given his
personal testimonial letters and
pecuniary aid to get home, thereby
incurring the displeasure of the
administration and bringing on the
severance of his own relations with
the College.
Chapter 48
|
Chapter Index
Special thanks to John Miller for his efforts in scanning the book's contents and converting it into the web page you are now viewing.
|