'/..,

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

'939

Father Bernard Donnelly

Life gf Father
Bernard Donnelljr

WITH HISTORICAL SKETCHES
of
KANSAS CITY, ST. LOUIS
and
INDEPENDENCE, MISSOURI

By
Rev. William J. Dalton

Published by
GRIMES-JOYCE PRINTING COMPANY
Kansas City, Missouri
1921

Imprimatur

>%i Thomas F. Lillis, D. D.
Bishop of Kansas City, Missouri

October

8th,

1921

,

By

Copyrigh
Rev. Wm.

t 1921
J. Dalton
ll\9l

9

To
Kansas City
The home of Father Donnelly
The city of his heart
The scene of his great efforts
The result of his aspirations
The mighty metropolis he foretold
This biography is dedicated

INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.

CONTENTS Page
 9
Early Life in Ireland. Struggle for
an Education. Becomes a Civil En
gineer and a Temperance Advocate 19
Teaching School in America and
Studying for the Priesthood . . 27
Roughing it at the Barrens. Or
dained a Priest by Bishop Kenrick.
A Gilpin Ride to Old Mines . . 33
His First Parish in Independence,
then at the Wilderness Edge . . 40
Building the Groundwork of a Kan
sas City Parish. His Fight for the
Site of Kansas City's First Church 50
The First White Woman Born in his
Parish. Her Recollections of Pioneer
Days  62
Bidding Farewell to the Independ
ence Church  70
Father Donnelly as a Colonizer, En- ,
thusiast, and Man of Vision . . 74
Civil War Days and the Story of the
Buried Treasure  80
The Struggle and Stress of Recon
struction Days. The Drake Consti
tution  88
His Work as a Missionary. The
Hardships and Disappointments of a
Pioneer Priest. The Golden Fee that
was Lost . ;  92
Catholic Beginnings in Kansas City.
Father Donnelly as an Organizer
and Promoter of Religious and Civic
Enterprises  98

CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXII.

Some of his Reminiscent Letters,
Reviewing his Early Struggles . 104
A Priest Among Priests. His Re
lations to his Clerical Associates . 128
The History of Kansas City's First
Church Site  133
The Coming of the Religious Orders.
The Beginnings of St. Teresa's.
Father Donnelly's Encouragement to
the Redemptorists. The Founding
of Charitable Institutions . . . 138
Father Donnelly as a Secular La
borer, Engineer, Map Maker, Brick
Maker, Stone Cutter, Lime Burner
and Builder. His Work as an Actual
Toiler  150
Some Retrospective Letters to the
"Banner." Looking Backward from
the Sere and Yellow Days . . . 152
The Man behind the Priest. His
Democratic Sympathies. His Love
for Children. His Shrewd Insight
into Human Nature. His Love for
His Native Land. His Practical
Patriotism  172
Father Donnelly as Student,
Scholar, Investigator, Orator and
Philosopher.  177
His Reputation as a Recluse and a
Hard Taskmaster Dispelled at a
Banquet. He Makes a Hit as an
Orator with Great Orators for his
Audience  184
At the End of the Circuit. The New
Generation Displaces him. His Last
Illness and Pathetic End. The Great
Outpouring of the People at His
Funeral. His Unmarked Grave . 191

INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR
Bishop Louis Wm. V. Dubourg of New Orleans,
but living in St. Louis, wrote on January 30th, 1826,
to his brother: "I have long been convinced that
nothing could be accomplished here without the re
ligious orders. A man living isolated from his
kind grows weary of the apparent uselessness of
his efforts. The intense heat exhausts his strength
and checks his ardor. Too often he loses his life
or in the fear of losing it he abandons his post.
He is fortunate indeed if he does not prove the
truth of those words of the Holy Ghost: 'Woe to
him who is alone !' and from a being full of vigor
and activity he becomes a good-for-nothing and
the scorn of his fellowmen." (St. Louis Catholic
Historical Review, Vol. II, Nos. 2-3, p. 70.)
The Right Reverend Bishop was not living
alone; he had vicars-general and priests living
around him, and surely had no reason to get
weary, but he accepted a promotion, becoming ar
archbishop in France.
How the hundreds of missionaries "living iso
lated," like Fathers Badin and Nerinckx, the
founders of the Sisters of Charity and of Loretto
in Kentucky, like Gallitzin, the Russian prince, in
Pennsylvania, like Palamorgues in Iowa, Ravoux
in the wilds of the Indian lands in Minnesota, like
St. Cyr in Missouri and Illinois, and hundreds of
other early missionaries from New Orleans to St.
Louis, and westward to Oregon — Bishop Scanlon,
the first pastor and bishop of Salt Lake, the bish
ops and priests of Idaho and Washington — how
all those, "leading isolated lives," by their good
work until death, successfully contradict the "con
viction" of Bishop Dubourg ! Fear of losing their
lives did not make them abandon their posts. The
glitter of archiepiscopal mitres could not win them
back to easy lives in their own native lands.

10 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
Not every disposition is suited for a life of soli
tude, any more than every disposition is suited for a
life in a community. Fathers Donnelly, Hammil and
Fox of the St. Louis diocese, the diocesan pioneer
priests in Illinois and along the Mississippi, Fathers
John Bergier, Anthony Dayion, Michael Gaulin,
Nicholas Foucault, John Daniel Tetu, and Francis
Frison de Lamotte, are instances where the soli
tary life did not cool the missionary ardor.
The missionary who has a rugged constitution,
whose soul is in his work, whose mind, like his
health, is impervious to difficulties of climate and
slow to give way under the strain of his efforts, and
who, like St. Paul, sees only the greatness of the
cause in which he is enrolled, does not crave or
need the solace or support of companionship.
Sympathy, cheering fellowship, constant advice
and frequent suggestion would have hampered
and discouraged the great Apostle of the Gentiles.
We have reason to believe he could not have lived
under the same roof with St. Peter. Shipwreck,
now and then imprisonment in jails, opposition of
false brethren, adversities of every kind, did not
make him a good-for-nothing, isolated though he
was. There was a time not long ago when to touch
upon the relative results of church activities
among the missionary pioneers in America was to
stir up a feeling bordering on rancor among the
admirers of the various modern apostles. Ad
miring humanity will always divide on the ques
tion, who has done best? The early Christians
were not exceptions. Some were for Paul, some
for Apollo. St. Paul, in his first epistle to the
Corinthians, writes:
"For while one saith: I indeed am of Paul;
and another: I am of Apollo; are you not men?
What then is Apollo and what is Paul? The min-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 11
isters of Him whom you have believed: and to
every one as the Lord hath given. I have planted,
Apollo watered: but God gave the increase."
(I Corinthians, 111: 4, 5, 6.)
All were loyal followers of the Twelve Apos
tles, and all full of praise of what each one did
in the advancement of Christianity. In science, in
art, in every phase of human excellence, men have
ever discussed the question, who is best, who leads
all the others? Tastes will differ. In the cause
of Christianity, the great chieftains present them
selves in different lights to different people. He
roism has as many aspects as there are different
tastes and different ideas of what constitutes the
heroic. The twelve fearless Apostles appeal to
some, the martyrs to others, the sweet angelic
nature to others still. The sphjit of organization,
banding an army by discipline and rules of forget-
fulness of self, awes many into an admiration of
system, and makes them forget or underestimate
the work of the units striving to the same end.
The universities of learning house great minds
struggling to forward every line of mental re
search, yet the workshop here and there pro
duces an Edison, who, singlehanded, brings out
results unsurpassed. When Oxford was at its
best, the literature of England was furnished by
the Addisons, the Goldsmiths, the Johnsons, in
the periodicals, and sometimes writing from the
very hovels of London. Yet the University in its
professors prospered and did much to enhance the
beauties and style of the English tongue.
In the missionary work of the world discov
ered by Columbus, the religious orders were first
in the field. From Quebec in Canada they tracked
the Indian tribes over plains and hills, along the
Atlantic coast. They looked them up first when
with Columbus they entered America. They

12 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
sought and found them on the banks of the St.
Laurence, of the Great Lakes, of the Mississippi.
About one hundred and fifty years afterwards
they came to them and lived with them along the
Missouri River, through the Great American Des
ert, over the Rocky Mountains, and, under De
Smet, up into Oregon. The Jesuits, the Francis
cans, the Benedictines, went into South America
and preached Christ everywhere in that great
division of the New World.
In this survey, where do we find the diocesan
priests? In those days diocesan priests were in
Europe in their respective territories, called dio
ceses. As their name indicates, they work within
certain territorial lines. Their duty holds them to
the people and the district to which they are as
signed. They pledge themselves to labor at the
call of their respective bishops. Besides, the dio
cesan priests were not numerous and there was
not much scope for them. The religious orders
were everywhere in Europe, monks and religious
were numerous in cities, towns, and country places,
too. The diocesan priest could not, if disposed,
go into missionary fields. His salary kept him
poor, in fact men rarely become rich from salary
as a revenue. The diocesan priest is the bishop's
priest and subject, and can go only where his
bishop orders him. To enter the missionary career
entailed the expense of travel from home across
the Atlantic and to the scene of one's endeavors.
The diocesan priest had very little, if any, money,
not enough at least to pay his way to foreign lands.
Had he the means to reach his destination he was
without side money with which to feed and clothe
himself. Even a religious order in financial straits
would not look like a born missionary band in a
new country.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 13
Father Felix De Andreis was holy enough to
be entered in the Process of Canonization, yet he
was worldly wise. On February 24th, 1818, he
wrote from St. Louis, where he had recently ar
rived, to his superior in Italy, Father Sicardi:
"We need whole colonies of missionaries with
considerable pecuniary resources, in order to
make rapid progress in these intense woods."
Father De Andreis knew the reputation of pioneer
Christians and native Indians. The former had
nothing to give the missionary, and the latter ex
pected the missionary to give him help, for body
as well as for soul. It costs a civilized man money
to live even in the land of indolent savages, and
though a man be a tailor and a cook he must pay
for what he eats and wears even though he does
put them together. Bishop Dubourg, who could
turn a Latin sentence with Ciceronian ease and
finesse and like a famed, gifted Irishman could
say two things at the same time, minimized the
value of the diocesan missionary because of the
solitariness of his life and the lack of cheering
surroundings, and preferred the religious commu
nities to the one-man worker in the new countries.
Another reason he had perhaps away down in his
heart was that the monk or religious would not be
dependent on the slim revenues of the Louisiana
diocese. The Right Reverend Bishop was a man
of zeal and brave heart, but he remained a rather
long time in Paris because he wanted to secure
the means to live in a manner becoming his dig
nity when he should go to his western diocese.
He could not husband the means he was securing
in Paris if he were obliged to support or even aid
a band of diocesan priests. Bishop Dubourg knew
that the diocesan priest would be next to useless
without some help to keep him in the wilds of the
new West. So also would the religious orders. It

14 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
would have added to the straightforwardness of
his character had he said with the sainted Father
De Andreis: "We need, we can use, whole col
onies of those priests only 'who have considerable
pecuniary resources, to work and make progress
in these intense forests.' "
European nations with foreign possessions in
Asia, Africa, or the islands, always find a ready,
necessary and efficient helper in the Christian mis
sionary. Their claims over their possessions are
strengthened and made easy by the mollifying, re
straining efforts of the ministers of God. Their
soldiers need and demand the ministrations of the
chaplains. Even France, when she was closing the
churches at home and driving the religious orders
out of the Republic, would send to the colonies an
army to punish insults to the French missionaries or
refusals to receive them. Infidelity might be the
proper thing at home, but the conquered pagan in
the French possessions needed religion, and France
at least forced them to listen to the missisionaries
and not dare molest them. Perhaps they sought not
so much the religious impressions and conversions
made by the missionaries as the obedience to govern
ment authority taught by the Church. And having
sent missionaries to their foreign acquisitions, does
it not seem reasonable to say they supported them,
as England sustained the Catholic priests in the
West Indies.
The Jesuits in the Canadian territory along the
lakes had blazed the way for a new race of mis
sionaries. They had explored the new country, and
made known the topography and even the very na
ture of the soil of every place they visited. Their
first work was done, and another awaited them.
They were skilled scientists, and were by training
at home professors and founders of schools and col
leges. Others could follow in their footsteps over

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 15
mountain and vale, for the Jesuits furnished the
world with maps of the pathways and streams of
Canada and the northeast States. Then they re
turned to fulfill the second part of their oath-bound
obligation, "to take special care of the education of
youth." Father Charles Van Quickenborne, superior of
the small colony of two Jesuit Fathers, seven aspir
ants to the priesthood, and three lay brothers, had
been in Missouri but a very short time when he un
dertook his first missionary tour among the Osage
Indians in the Territory in 1827. His first visit to
the Indians convinced him that no great or per
manent results could ever be accomplished among the
indolent, wandering and indocile aborigines of the
woods and prairies, "which would at all compensate
missionaries for sacrificing all their energies and
resources in exclusive attention to the savages."
(See Father Walter Hill's "History of St. Louis
University.") Strong language? Well, St. Paul
used strong language about the people to whom he
preached. An easy, generous critic might say
Father Van Quickenborne's language was that of a
chiding mother to her indifferent boy. Whatever
way it may sound, it was a warning that the Jesuits
had other aims in their good work than sacrificing
their resources and available properties in futile
missions among the Indians. Bishop Rosatti about
that time was anxious to rid himself of a high school
or college belonging to the diocese of St. Louis. The
Jesuits soon became owners of it and gave most of
their time and labor to the college. And what a
blessing to religion in St. Louis and the United
States at large that college has been under the mas
terful leadership of the Jesuits for nearly one hun
dred years ! Father Van Quickenborne and Father
Hoecken, the two Fathers Eysvogels, were living
with the Indians in the Territory in 1836 and 1837,

16 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
and in fact through their successors at St. Mary's,
Kansas, are with them yet- — that is, if there are any
Indians left there.
Rome saw that the religious communities were
tiring and seeking other fields, so the Propaganda
requested that missionary colleges be started in Ire
land, France, Belgium and Spain. The bishops of
America, with new dioceses in the north and west,
found in the priest-graduates of these colleges men
willing and able to carry on the unfinished work of
the first missionaries. No greater zeal, no more
heroic endurance of bitter hardships, ever marked
the lives of apostles in God's service than were dis
played by Father (afterwards Bishop) Baraga and
his successors for years in the cold north peninsula
of Michigan. Bishop M. Loras of Dubuque and
Bishop Joseph Cretin of St. Paul were aided to
wonderful mission results among Indians and pio
neers. They were all diocesan priests trained for
the requirements of those early days. Bishop Mar
tin Henni, the first Bishop of Milwaukee, gradually
found vocations at home among the diocesan stu
dents of his seminary.
Nearly one hundred years ago the Lazarists in
St. Louis prepared diocesan students for missionary
labors in Missouri, Kansas and Louisiana. The
priests of the diocese were soon as efficient in this
western wilderness as the Fathers of religious orders
had been in primitive times. They, too, soon be
came as inured to the dangers to life and limb as
were their predecessors. And how many and how
severe were their endurances! They frequently
lived in huts without cooks and without help, and
without nurses in sickness and accidents. The re
ligious had all their struggles with rain and swollen
streams, with miasmatic poisons in new and savage
countries, but they had the fraternal care of their
own brothers who nursed them and they had their

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 17
mother-house for a hospital when that was neces
sary. The religious missioners had to strive for
means of livelihood, but in crying need they had the
financial resources of their order to draw upon. In
1840 Fathers Verreydt and De Smet, the one on his
way to St. Mary's Mission, the other on his way to
the Oregon missions, met at Kanzas, now Kansas
City. They both were in pressing want for articles
of food and wear. They made purchases at the
Chouteau warehouse. In payment they presented
drafts on Father Verhaegen, then Vice-Provincial at
St. Louis University. The drafts were honored as
cash. Imagine a Donnelly or a St. Cyr drawing on
their worthy Bishop at St. Louis ! Their draft might
be honored by the drawee, but a repetition would be
unthought of, because of the warning letter which
certainly would have followed. The diocesan mis
sionary was like the Indian small boy whose father
would pitch him into the fast current--it was a case
of sink or swim.
However, there were zealous men willing and
unafraid, who, without financial support from re
ligious order or other source, undertook the mis
sionary life in localities where they could hope for
only the most meager if any returns in a worldly
sense, men who faced hardships of all kinds in a
life new to their own experience, who overcame
obstacles of a sort to discourage the bravest, and
who, strong in Faith and purpose, toiled on in God's
holy service until able to do no more, and who with
their parting sigh could whisper a happy "Deo
gratias," content in the knowledge that their efforts
had not been unavailing, that what they had so pain
fully struggled for had been gained, and that it was
all for God's greater glory. Not least among such
valiant ones was Father Bernard Donnelly, the
story of whose life is recorded in these pages.

18 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
At an age when youthful ardor had cooled, with
a true idea of what confronted him, with the knowl
edge of mission life in the far West imprinted on
his mind from books and from the lips of the early
missionaries in Missouri and the Territory, Father
Donnelly faced his chosen career undaunted.
Through malarial chill and fever, time and time
again, through the bitter cold of winter and the
burning heat of summer, through trackless desert
and over untrod hills and mountains, among kind
but poor and thriftless squatters and unsuccessful
people of western Missouri and Arkansas, with a
cheerless, fireless hut to enter when long tours were
over, without cook, without nurse or doctor, he
struggled on. The strong frame weakened, the limbs
lost their agility and the joints their suppleness, the
lungs resented the cold air of the prairie and the
mountain, and a cough preceded the wheezing short
breath of the victim of asthma, his fingers were mis
shapen from many a rheumatic attack and from ex
posure in blizzards, but he never yielded to dis
couragement; with a smile on his face and cheer in
his heart to the very end he said his daily Mass, was
ready to answer calls to the sick and the dying, and
was ever attentive to all the demands of duty.

©

CHAPTER I.
EARLY LIFE.
ERNARD DONNELLY was born in the
town of Kilnacreva, County Cavan, Ireland.
The day and year of his birth, had he ever
known, he forgot in his advanced years. He
knew he was baptized in infancy, for the priest who
performed the ceremony was his pastor up to man
hood and often told him so. The rule of the Catholic
Church is that the priest must make the record of
each baptism, giving the date of the baptism, the
name of the child, the date of its birth, the names of
the parents and the names of the sponsors, together
with his own name as the priest who baptized the
child. When young Donnelly was born and for years
before and afterwards, the English laws forbade a
Catholic priest to make any record or keep any entry
of a baptism. Schools were not tolerated in Ireland
when Bernard's parents were young. The school
teacher in Ireland was outlawed by the English gov
ernment, a price was put on his head and he was
hunted like a wild beast. So his father and mother
were unable to read or write, and records of their
children's birth could not be made by them. When
asked his age he would make a calculation by say
ing he could recall such and such an historic event
and so must have been five or six years old at that
time. From his recollection of events recorded on
the tablets of his memory and connected with the
career of Napoleon Bonaparte, he would say : "Well,
I am older than the 19th Century." The small boy
early picks out his hero, who must be a fighter on
the field of battle or in the arena, and he never for
gets his name or deeds.

20 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
His father's name was John Donnelly and his
mother's was Rose Fox. A little while before Ber
nard reached school age, the English rulers of Ire
land had discovered that keeping Ireland in en
forced illiteracy did not make the Irish more docile
subjects nor did it turn them into cringing slaves.
This kind of persecution drove the young manhood
of Ireland by the thousands into the army of France.
The famed victory of Fontenoy, May 11th, 1745,
when the English army was almost destroyed, sent
the echo of the cheers of the Irish troops under
Marshal Saxe across the ocean from Belgium into
every town and city of England. And those exultant
cheers of revenge rolled around the halls of the
English parliament and made terror-stricken legisla
tors repeal one brutal law after another. Schools
were among the last of all concessions granted Ire
land, but those schools were opened and maintained
by the Irish themselves.
The days of the hedge school were past : when
the teacher, disguised, hid himself in the forest or
mountain crags, where his pupils flocked to learn
the rudiments of knowledge as well as the languages
of Greek and Latin, and higher mathematics. The
new schools were poor in construction and poor in
furnishment. To a makeshift like this young Don
nelly trudged along, happy and ambitious to learn.
Six days a week he carried his slate and "cutter," his
quill pen and drying sand for his freshly written
page, to the teacher's home where school was held.
A block of turf was the pupil's daily contribution
towards heating the room, and once a week each
scholar handed the teacher as many pennies as he
could afford for tuition.
There were no readers for the standards as we
have, and after learning the alphabet and mastering
the spelling of words of one syllable, the pupils had
to reach words of two syllables through books of ad-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 21
venture, of history, and of religious devotion. Such
a faulty arrangement made the reading of simple
words a work of years. Practical men all over Ire
land soon saw the lack of system in the new schools.
Committees were formed from all parts of Ireland
to advance and simplify the method of imparting
knowledge. Children were classified, more meth
odical men succeeded the early schoolmaster, and
suitable and comfortable buildings were erected
everywhere. Young Donnelly was a pupil in time to benefit
by the change for the better. His talent and appli
cation soon entitled him to promotion to a higher
grade of studies, and his parents placed him under
the care of one of the many teachers who specialized
in mathematics. His name was Hugh O'Reilly. He
lived at Cooteshill, a short distance from Donnelly's
home. O'Reilly's reputation was known far and
wide. Under him the youth acquired a knowledge of
algebra, geometry and trigonometry. His next
ambition was a course of English and civil engineer
ing. For these he put himself under the tuition of
a George Alderson, a graduate of Oxford and for
years a professor of engineering in a military
academy near Oxford. Alderson's school at this time
was in the outskirts of Dublin. In his second year
here Donnelly resumed his studies of Latin and
Greek. After three years of hard study Dr. Aider-
son pronounced Donnelly worthy the highest honors
of his class. His school days in Ireland were now
over. Recommendation from Alderson secured for
his pupil a membership in a civil engineering corps
in Dublin. His next location was in Liverpool, where
he worked as civil engineer in the construction of
the Liverpool docks.
A good salary and a saving disposition enabled
him to help his parents in Ireland and to put away
some money every month to pay his passage to

22 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
America in the near future. Like thousands of his
countrymen young and old he saw the goal of future
success across the ocean. His parents were then,
and while he was at school, the objects of his solici
tude. He found time while studying in Ireland to
put aside his books now and then to return to his
home to help his father on the little farm rented
from a landlord. In evenings when the day's duties
were done, he worked in stores and helped merchants
in balancing their books. Even on holidays he found
employment that brought tidy returns. He was ever
a tireless student and a dutiful son.
In Liverpool he identified himself with various
Catholic societies and sodalities, attending early
Mass on his way to work every morning and ap
proaching Holy Communion on Sundays. His ex
emplary life and scholarly attainments soon at
tracted the attention of the few priests then in Liver
pool. They were his guides and his advisers, and
by their influence put him in the way of the best
Catholic society and found for him a home where he
enjoyed every comfort. Father Theobald Matthew's
crusade against intemperance was fast winning the
blessings of the world. He had torn thousands of
helpless victims from the clutches of the monster
drunkenness. Overindulgence in strong liquor had
swept over England, Scotland and Ireland. Liver
pool was a workingman's city. Drunkenness often
works its worst ravages among the people of toil
and few comforts. Bernard Donnelly soon per
ceived the fell effects of liquor in the ranks of the
toilers on the wharves and in the workshops. He
saw many of his own countrymen, who came to Liv
erpool to get employment to help themselves and
their poor families in Ireland, become slaves to the
whisky habit. In young manhood as in after life
when a priest he had a heart and a ready will for the
unfortunate.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 23
After consulting his priest friends he started a
temperance society. They were with him and en
couraged and blessed his undertaking. The Catholic
pulpits announced the time and place of the meet
ings. A large hall could not hold the crowds that
responded. Every priest in Liverpool and priests
from surrounding towns were on the platform. Their
presence was a benediction and their speeches were
eloquent in approval and strong in appeal to join
the cause. Bernard Donnelly's name was a signal for loud
applause. With an outburst of unanimity he was
appointed chairman. The Mayor of Liverpool
thanked the young chairman for such a society and
one so much needed. Although not a Catholic, he
requested that his name be enrolled. Before the
meeting adjourned Donnelly was elected president.
More than seven hundred men and women responded
to Mr. Donnelly's appeals by then and there joining
Father Matthew's Temperance Society of the City
of Liverpool. The large audience arose and with
right hands uplifted repeated the temperance pledge
authorized by Father Matthew. The Vicar General
read the pledge from a letter of approval and bless
ing written by Father Matthew at his headquarters
in Cork, Ireland.
For some weeks Mr. Donnelly attended meet
ings held in various parts of the city of Liverpool.
The meetings grew in attendance and the member
ship enrolled kept pace, until Mr. Donnelly was able
to announce the new crusade eight thousand strong.
It was not long until Father Matthew tore himself
away from his great work at home and followed in
the wake of the young local organizer. He opened
every meeting with words of praise and thanks to
Mr. Donnelly, whom he named the "Apostle of Tem
perance in England." Father Matthew went back
to Ireland but in a little while returned to England

24 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
and lectured in every large city, praising everywhere
the work of his young countryman.
In 1849-1852 Father Matthew visited the United
States. He lectured on his heart subject in every
Catholic church and many halls from Boston to New
Orleans and St. Louis. In the city of Washington
he was honored by an invitation from both houses
of Congress to address them in the Senate Cham
ber. While lecturing in St. Louis in October, 1850,
the pastor of Independence, Missouri, called on him
in the residence of Archbishop Kenrick. The Ber
nard Donnelly who years previously had unfurled
the banner of Father Matthew in the city of Liver
pool had become the priest Donnelly of Independence.
Words would fail to express the joyous hearts of
the great leader and the able lieutenant. When
they met in the Land of Promise and Freedom the
rugged frame of Father Matthew had been touched
by age and its infirmities, but his heart was as
benevolent and his voice as powerful and his work
as far-reaching as when last they were together.
America was as ready to recognise a benefactor of
the race as was England or Ireland. Father
Matthew was an orator and an orator is one who
persuades and captures. The American Senate and
House of Representatives pronounced him one of the
greatest orators that ever addressed their assembly.
America proclaimed him an orator by joining his
crusade in numbers over 500,000 strong.
A success in a most benevolent enterprise, with
a salary for his work as civil engineer and a surplus
with which to make the declining years of his
parents comfortable, and with fine prospects for
social and financial advance, Mr. Donnelly had
reasoned that his labors in Europe were complete.
He had a yearning for other surroundings. There
was an air of antiquity all about him from which he
wished to escape. His native land was crushed by

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 25
hundreds of years of oppression and ferocious
cruelty. The very country he was leaving was the
home of his country's oppressor. The very air he
breathed was heavy with odors of prisons and jails.
He felt enfettered, and he would be free. There is
no freedom in a land where one's country and one's
religion are hated.
Washington and his land of true democracy
were his ideals of the hero to worship and the coun
try to live in. Thousands of his fellow countrymen
were happy across the Atlantic and many of them
were writing him to join them. He had a secret
deep down in his heart which he seldom, if ever,
divulged. He believed he was called to be a priest.
He would be received readily into the sacred ministry
in England or in his dear old Ireland. He was more
than once told so by clergymen high in the ranks
of the priesthood. But he would rather be what he
often called a free priest, secure from unfriendly
national laws and interferences of an inimical gov
ernment. With that truly Irish and comical twinkle
of eye he often said, "I believe there are other ways
of going to Heaven than through martyrdom." He
made up his mind to go to America and there
serve in the priesthood. Ireland had enough of
priests, America needed more. He bade farewell
to Liverpool and his many friends there and re
turned to Ireland. He spent some months with
his parents and then took shipping for New York.
Fulton's steamboats were still on trial. Steam pro
pelled the light craft along the banks of the Hudson
River and frightened the Indians and the western
pioneers on the Mississippi and the Missouri, but
had not yet proved secure to the timid passengers
crossing the broad and turbulent Atlantic Ocean. The
sailing vessel that he selected was packed with his
countrypeople, like himself fleeing from misery. The
passage was anything but pleasant. There were

26 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
few comforts on board, many were sicjk from the
roughness of the sea. The time crossing was eighty
days. One of the first men he became acquainted with
on landing in New York, and that was through
letters of introduction, was a Mr. O'Connor, a school
teacher in New York, the father of Charles O'Con
nor, America's greatest constitutional lawyer. It
was a pleasing surprise to find that many of his
countrymen were school teachers in the cities of
America from New York to the farthest western
city, St. Louis, in Philadelphia, Charleston and
New Orleans. They were in nearly every city on
the Ohio River, and in Cincinnati. Everywhere the
Irish schoolmaster wielded the rod and taught the
young idea how to shoot.
Daniel Boone accepted an invitation to colonize
the territory of Missouri. He entered many acres
of land at Point de Femme, about the site of St.
Charles. He brought with him Marylanders, Caro
linians, Kentuckians, Tennesseeans, and two Irish
school teachers to instruct the children in the rudi
ments of learning. Neither Boone nor his follow
ers had the advantage of education. Boone's school
teachers were versed in many things. They could
out jump, out wrestle, out box, and out run the
nimblest of the semi-wild men they accompanied. In
the school the teacher's rod was as essential as the
book or the slate, pen or paper. The rod was as nec
essary to the teacher in his realm as the royal sceptre
to the King of England on the opening of Parlia
ment. It was a sign to the pupil that the law of
order was presiding. In the Irish teacher's hand
the ruler was a connecting link between teacher and
pupil, with the pupil at the end that brought shock
and pain. He used the ruler, as he was wont to say,
to drive learning into the pupil when the easier or
more gentle method failed.

CHAPTER II.
MR. DONNELLY BECOMES A SCHOOL
TEACHER.

m

fR. DONNELLY while in Ireland had prac
ticed the profession of school teacher. At
short intervals he supplied the places of two
different teachers while studying in the
city of Dublin. He also filled a vacancy in a school
in his native county where in youth he had been a
pupil. His friends in New York suggested that he
take a school in either New York or Philadelphia.
Philadelphia was a close rival of New York in those
days and the salaries offered by directors of educa
tion were higher in Philadelphia. Besides, Mr.
Donnelly had the county clannishness then and in
fact all through life: he leaned to men from his
own county in Ireland. Philadelphia then and for
many years after was the stopping place in America
for men from Donegal and Cavan. They flocked
there. He selected Philadelphia where he could hear
the soft brogue of the North of Ireland and where
he could enjoy the fellowship of his own townsland
people. He accepted the offer of a well equipped
school and a very desirable salary. After a year
and more he was offered a better school in Pitts
burgh with increased remuneration.
Clerical friends among the Dominican Fathers
in Ohio, old friends and companions in Ireland, in
duced him to come close to them in Lancaster, Ohio.
This invitation westward was backed by a letter
from the Hon. Thomas Ewing, Senator from Ohio
from 1831 to 1837, and afterwards Secretary of the
Interior, and father-in-law of General Sherman. He
was Secretary of the Treasury under President Har
rison in 1841, Secretary of the Interior under Presi-

28 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
dent Taylor in 1849, and then Justice of the Supreme
Court. Lancaster at that time was the residence town
of some of the oldest and wealthiest families of
Ohio. The West was no longer an unknown land
to the Atlantic front of our country. Cincinnati
was recognized as the point where civilization was
free from the presence of the red-man. The few
railroads skirted along the Atlantic coast and were
more or less an experiment. Capital could not
think of risking tunnels through the mountains or
of building over them for a few scattered citizens
living along western water streams. Flatboats
were creaking under the weight of freight from
Pittsburgh to Cincinnati and west to where the
Ohio mingles with the Mississippi. Passenger steam
boats were sources of pleasure and convenience for
the west and southbound passengers on the Ohio.
Cincinnati was to the Ohio River what New York,
Boston and Philadelphia were to the Atlantic Ocean
—it was a point of entry and exit. The Cincinnatian
was growing in wealth and he needed a suburban
town in which to sleep, to live, and to have his chil
dren educated, and Lancaster shared this benefit
with Somerset. Mr. Donnelly grasped this offer to
teach the "gentry's" children. It is not a weakness
in nature to look high and go upwards. Donnelly
was quick in taking advantage of such an oppor
tunity. Upon his arrival in Lancaster he was wel
comed by Father Martin and Father Young, Domini
can priests. They introduced him to Senator
Ewing. Mrs. Ewing was a Catholic and insisted
that the new teacher should consider her house his
home. Some of the Ewing children were among the
first enrolled in his school. While in Lancaster, Mr.
Donnelly was treated as one of the Ewing house
hold. In after years when Mr. Donnelly was the
Catholic pastor of Kansas City, Hugh Boyle Ewing,

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 29
the son of Senator Ewing, and William Tecumseh
Sherman, the son-in-law of Senator Ewing, were
practicing law at Leavenworth, Kansas (1858-9).
They renewed their old acquaintance and visited
each other frequently.
Father Donnelly until his last sickness kept
"The School Roll" of his pupils at Lancaster. But
the pupil he was proudest of and whose deeds of
valor and generalship he was forever extolling was
General Philip Henry Sheridan. The General's
father was born in County Cavan and that fact was
something Father Donnelly never failed to mention
in his reminiscent moods. The General wrote his
memoirs a few years before his death. He gave
some space in the book to schoolboy days. He tells
some interesting and amusing stories of his Irish
schoolmaster in Ohio. While paying tribute to the
ability of the teacher, he lauds his cunning. He tells
that whenever anything serious went amiss he never
failed punishing the guilty youth, for he always
flogged the whole school. But for the teacher, Mr.
Donnelly, then a priest, he substituted another name.
When General Sheridan was in charge of the middle
or western division of the army, with headquarters
in Chicago, he frequently stopped over at Kansas
City on his way west or from Kansas during the
Indian uprisings. He invariably called on Father
Donnelly. The General was a good raconteur and
told many amusing stories of the days under Father
Donnelly's tutorship. He would say to Father Don
nelly : "You were the best teacher I had before go
ing to West Point — you were the only one." Father
Donnelly's repartee was: "Phil, you were my best
pupil. You rarely prepared your lessons, until after
a shaking up, and you trampled on every rule of the
school. But I always had a soft place in my heart
for you — you could whip every lad in the class."
When Sheridan, in 1879, was about to marry, he

30 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
wrote Father Donnelly inviting him to perform the
ceremony. The old priest keenly appreciated the
honor, but sickness had weakened him and his end
was fast approaching, and he could not comply.
While in Ohio Mr. Donnelly had a friend and
admirer in Archbishop Purcell of Cincinnati. He
consulted the Archbishop on his vocation to the
priesthood. Ohio seemed far west, but Donnelly ex
pressed a preference for location and work farther
from the confines of civilization. Ohio was well
dotted with growing towns. He would prefer the
prairies or the mountains for health and labor, where
the laborers in the vineyard were few and far be
tween. Archbishop Purcell replied that he was sure
he would make an efficient priest and used his good
offices with Bishop Kenrick of St. Louis, to accept
his friend into the St. Louis diocese. Mr. Donnelly
was immediately enrolled on the list of ecclesiastical
students for St. Louis and in a little while entered
St. Mary's Seminary of the Barrens, in Perry Coun
ty, Missouri, eighty miles south of St. Louis.
Nicknaming has always been a strong habit in
America. The "funny man" or the man who sees a
strong resemblance in a person or place to some con
dition or extravagance elsewhere, immediately rec
ollects the likeness and to arouse a laugh mentions
what he imagines the original. The aptness pro
duces the laugh and a name is made which is last
ing. Perry County was covered with timber, but a
few spots of prairie were found here and there in
the woods. These spots, barren of trees but rich in
productive soil, received among the pioneer settlers
the name of "barrens." The name of a few spots
became the name of the surrounding country. Here
in the spring of 1818 Bishop Dubourg located the
newly arrived Vincentian or Lazarist Fathers. The
Superior of the Lazarists, Father Felix De Andreis,
who was born December 13th, 1778, at Demonte, a

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 31
considerable hamlet in the present diocese and for
mer province of Cuneo, Piedmont, Italy, with four
priests and one lay brother, came from the city
of Rome at the invitation of Bishop Dubourg
and took charge of a college in St. Louis and
did missionary work among the pioneer Cath
olics in the vicinity. Father De Andreis had
been a professor of theology, in Rome from 1806
to 1815. His learning and eloquence immediately
attracted the attention of the Eternal City. Profes
sors from the other colleges were often seen among
his auditors. Cardinal Della Somaglia was a fre
quent listener to the young professor's lectures. He
admired not only the solidity and beauty of his dis
courses but the piety and unction with which he
spoke. The Cardinal, in an audience with Pope Pius
VII, said : "Holy Father, I have found out lately a
treasure of science and piety in a priest of the Mis
sion at Monte Citorio ; his name is Felix De Andreis
and he is yet quite young. I heard him speak sev
eral times on the dignity and duties of the priest
hood and he pleased me much, so that I seemed to
hear a St. John Chrysostom or a St. Bernard." En
raptured at these words, the Sovereign Pontiff
immediately replied: "We must not lose sight of
this young man, for it is with such as he that we
should fill the episcopal sees."
In one of the most perilous and prolonged
pontificates in the history of the Church, his king
dom wrested from him, his city robbed of most
precious inheritances, the sanctuaries despoiled of
costly gifts, his libraries and art galleries laid bare
of their books and paintings, and he himself a
prisoner in another land, with war raging the
world over, millions of his children murdered to
satisfy the ambition of a man who laughed at him
and defied him, Pius VII lost sight of the young
man so worthy of the episcopate. And how for-

32 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
tunate for the young man that fate did not give
him the mitre ! He would have died in some ob
scure diocese with a world of good never accom
plished. Instead, he breathed his last after years
spent in the great work of helping mankind spir
itually and mentally. He leaves the impress of
his plans and the wishes of his soul on the great
men who followed where he began. His sanctity
and learning were perpetuated in the Rosatti, the
De Neckere, the Odin, the Timon, the Ryan, the
Lynch, the Amat, archbishops and bishops, all
learned and holy men. He lives in the lives of
the hundreds of able professors and true exem
plars of piety and learning who taught and teach
in the seminaries and colleges and universities at
the Barrens, Cape Girardeau, New Orleans, Niag
ara Falls, Brooklyn, Germantown, Chicago, Dal
las, Denver, Los Angeles, and the Kenrick Semi
nary of St. Louis. The eminent Professor Torna-
tori, to whose training in learning and sanctity
the American Church is indebted for its greatest
light in the Episcopacy, Francis Patrick Kenrick,
Archbishop of Baltimore, was a Lazarist professor
at Rome and at the Barrens. Fathers Alizeri and
Lavazeri, Lazarists both, gave a fame to their
Father De Andreis by their lore and the training
imparted to the priests and bishops who studied
under them. The Very Reverend Father John
McGary, the second superior of Mount St. Mary's,
Emmetsburg, who saw a genius in the young John
Hughes, the gardener, and trained him for the
priesthood and lived to see him the immortal Arch
bishop of New York, left his Eastern home and
joined the Lazarists and spent the last thirty years
of his long life as a professor at Cape Girardeau.

CHAPTER III.
HE BECOMES A PRIEST.

XT was to the Barrens Mr. Donnelly traced
his steps when he left his school at Lan
caster to prepare for tne priesthood. His
knowledge of higher mathematics, of Eng
lish, Greek and Latin, brought him up to philos
ophy and theology, and gave him time to aid the
professors in the branches in which he ably qual
ified. He never tired of telling of the happy days
he spent at the Barrens. He mentioned the names
of every professor during and before his time, and
could tell where and when they were born and
the date of each one's death. Gratitude was a
part of his nature : he never forgot a kindness,
and, to be true to the real man, he never forgot
any act of unkindness done him.
Nearly three years of study and preparation
for the priesthood brought him up to the Sanctu
ary. He was ordained priest by Bishop P. R. Ken
rick in the year 1845.
Father Patrick O'Brien, who built St. John's
and St. Michael's churches in St. Louis, a man of
great piety and well grounded in theology and a
student all his life, always referred to his old
classmate, Bernard Donnelly, as the brightest
scholar in his day at the Barrens. Father William
Wheeler, who for twenty-five years was a priest
of St. Louis always connected with a city parish,
was a graduate of Maynooth College, Ireland. He
was ordained one year before Father Donnelly.
After ordination he was appointed assistant to
Father George Hamilton, who started St. Pat
rick's Parish but left for Boston before the com
pletion of the church. Father Lutz succeeded

34 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
Father Hamilton and left the diocese and was
pastor for years of a church in New York City.
The roof was barely on the walls of the edifice
when Father Wheeler became pastor; He was a
graduate, also, of the college in Dublin, a class
mate of Mr. Donnelly there and afterwards at the
Barrens. His estimate of Mr. Donnelly as a stu
dent was of the very highest order. He visited
Father Donnelly at Independence. In a letter to
the St. Louis News-Letter in 1847 while he was
West, speaking of Father Donnelly he said:
"I was free to say even to the Archbishop that
it was an injustice to Father Donnelly to send him
outside of civilization, for there is not a priest in
the arch-diocese as well equipped mentally as he.
He is an omnivorous reader and conversant with
several languages, besides his grace and aptitude
for church ceremonial have properly kept him
before the public eye as Master of Ceremonies
Sunday after Sunday and during Holy Week at
the Cathedral, at the laying of corner-stones of
St. Mary's, St. Patrick's and St. Joseph's Churches,
at ordinations, consecrations, and church dedica
tions. He will be lost in the land of the Indian
and the rude trapper. Besides his manners are
courtly and suited for the culture and refinement
of a city."
In his "Recollections of Twenty-five Years in
St. Louis," Father Wheeler in July, 1869, speak
ing again of Father Donnelly, says: "In my let
ters about a western town in 1847 I wrote that
Father Donnelly was intellectually and socially
too refined a priest for work among Indians and
trappers. I now say of him that, like St. Paul,
he is all things to all men. While educated and
distinguished in manner he can and has worked
like the tireless apostle he is. What a. bishop he

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 35
would be ! The East or the West would be equally
proud of him."
The morning of his ordination Father Don
nelly was appointed pastor of Independence, Jack
son County, Missouri. His Grace readily granted
the young priest's request to spend a week with
the pastor of Old Mines, Missouri. He lost no
time in hiring a horse to convey him to the mission
of his old friend. His Reverence knew a horse to
see him, but never had owned a horse. When he
rode behind a horse someone else held the lines.
The horse he bargained for was tall and not over
fed, and perhaps it was hunger that made him
skittish. There were marks on sides and hips that
looked as if they had been worn into the skin by
rubbing against fences and trees. The newly or
dained asked many questions of the stableman
before even approaching the saddle. The answers
he received were not assuring. "Yes, the horse
had run away in his time, and had unseated his
riders on a few occasions, but it was the awkward
ness of the mounts rather than the perversity of
the animal. This 'hoss' is all right, take my word
for it." "Couldn't you give your word to the horse
to treat me as square as I'll treat him?" said His
Reverence. "All right," came the hostler; then
in mock earnestness he whispered to the horse,
"This is a good man, you be a good hoss." That
was enough. So with a lift from the horseman
Father Donnelly was soon mounted, but not easy
at all. Then came the starting that was satisfac
tory at least to the man in the saddle. The horse's
head, with the helping hand of his attendant, was
directed southward, for Old Mines lay in a south
west direction. Father Donnelly was beginning
to feel at comfort and had just said to himself,
"Why, horseback riding isn't such a difficult thing
as I was led to believe," when a hatless boy rider

36 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
with a halter for a bridle passed Father Donnelly's
horse like a shot, but not too swiftly to give the
rented animal a blow with a stick he held in his
free hand. The priest's recollection was that his
hat flew from his head, his body began to rise and
fall upon the saddle, the stirrups slipped from his
feet, and the world around appeared to flee back
wards with the velocity of a falling star. Passers-
by stopped and laughed and shouted — he could
hear but did not deign a reply. The moment came
as it always comes when a horse is running away
at breakneck speed with a green rider; the horse
gave a sudden jolt, and the Father felt he was in
the air, and in less than a second was sure he was
on the hard earth. It was not his head that made
the connection, and the shock of the fall did not
rob him of consciousness. He was alone, fortu
nately with no scoffer in sight, and that was some
thing if not a consolation. A first, then a second
effort to rise, and he was on his feet. He felt he
was pale, he knew he was in pain. There were a
few rents in his brand-new suit, and his black gar
ments were covered with dust from much-ground
macadam. The horse — well, he was out of sight.
Father Donnelly was gifted with the vocabulary
of his countrymen and admitted that he did not
send blessings after the uncanny fiend. Then the
hat. His idea of time and distance was very vague
just then. What was the use of going back to
search? It might be a mile or more to the north;
it might have been five minutes or half an hour
ago since the hat deserted him. Backwards had
no happy recollections, so he would go right
ahead. It was not long until he recognised the
old-fashioned cottages of Carondelet. He directed
his steps to the home of Father Saulnier. Father
Saulnier was a jolly old soul and received the
young priest with a hearty laugh and told his own

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 37
experience of many years with horses. He told
Father Donnelly that he would send out messen
gers to find the runaway horse, but Donnelly said,
"No, I don't want to lay my eyes on the villain."
After much persuasion he was prevailed on to
spend the night with the venerable missionary.
Early next morning Father Saulnier hired a slow-
going animal and Donnelly proceeded on his way.
When asked how he fared with the second ven
ture his reply was : "One horse story at a time is
enough." He reached his destination, but the
very day after his arrival a letter from the Bishop,
expressing regret that he had to interfere with
his pleasant visit, told him to come immediately
to St. Louis and take the first boat for Independ
ence. Father Thomas Burke and another Lazarist
Father were awaiting him in his new mission.
They were in Independence and felt they ought
to stay there until his arrival. They had many
things to tell him about the territory which his
mission covered.
Some months previously the bishop had re
quested Father Burke and his Lazarist companion
to visit southwest Missouri from the Arkansas line
to what is now the line dividing Oklahoma and
Missouri, and north to the Kaw River, and east
to a point running south from Lexington. He in
structed them to find Catholics and report to him
where resident pastors might be located. To the
Lazarists this was not such a long and unusual
journey, accustomed as they were to go on horse
back from the Barrens to Texas and from one end
of that extensive country to the other. Father
Timon and companions, and his predecessors,
made the journey frequently. They were the mis
sionaries in Texas during the forties and fifties,
as the Jesuits were missionaries at the same time
in the district now covered by western Missouri

38 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
and eastern Kansas. Father Burke gave a full
report of the conditions in the vast area he and
his companion traversed. Independence and Deep-
water were selected for residences for pastors.
Deepwater did not receive its pastor as early as
did Independence. This appointment ended the
missionary duties of the Jesuits in this region.
Father Donnelly did not lose a moment in obey
ing the orders to start for his new home and his
first work as a priest. Such a parish, if you will!
Only the two Lazarists could tell him what it physi
cally looked like. Father Burke prided himself on
being a man of common sense devoid of poetic con
ceptions, and what he told Father Donnelly about
his new charge was in very plain language and in
no way laudatory of the mountain scenery, limpid
streams and good sized cataracts in his mission. He
no doubt recommended a few lessons in horseback
riding and suggested some helpful liniments to ease
pain and remove bruises. He surely did not omit
recommending a convenient and capacious style of
saddle bags and the warmest make of blankets.
Matches had come from inventors and manufaturers
in the far East in 1827 and were not looked upon
acceptably this side of the Mississippi. The steel
and flint stone would make sparks enough to burn
wet wood — matches might catch fire in one's pocket,
the western pioneers said. He would require buck
skin gloves extending to the elbow, boots that would
reach to the knees, a heavy fur cap with lapels to
cover the ears. The face and nose were to remain
exposed to the blasts from the Rockies and what
were called the "gentle zephyrs" of the prairies, and
when frozen were to be rubbed with snow or ice
until they became sensible to touch and returned to
natural color. "Put aside the tall hat ; the wild look
ing people out here might shoot holes through it, and
the Indians might take you for a wicked and de-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 39
signing American medicine man. You'll travel many
a day to take in your great district. The air out
here is very appetizing, and you will be able to eat
anything put before you. Keep yourself in the
friendship of God and like St. Patrick the very
snakes will run away from you. As you are a canny
North of Ireland man, take it from me, you'll give
more out here then you'll ever get."

©

CHAPTER IV.
HIS PARISH.
EFORE departing for St. Louis, Father
Burke handed the new pastor the latest
map of Missouri and with lead pencil
marked out his parish. The extent of the
parish we may estimate in square miles. The annual
Catholic Church Directory states that the diocese of
Kansas City, Missouri, covers 23,539 square miles.
Deduct about one-third, which seems too much, al
lowing for the counties of Lafayette and all directly
south, and you see the vast space Father Donnelly
had to traverse. Lafayette had a pastor at Lexing
ton whose mission went directly south of his county
down to Arkansas. Father Donnelly was commis
sioned to look after the spiritual wants of Catholics
in the balance of the territory of the present Kansas
City diocese. In a communication to the Catholic
Banner dated April, 1879, Father Donnelly touches
on his interview with Father Burke. He wrote :
"Dear Catholic Banner: I was appointed pas
tor of Independence in 1845 within a few hours
after my ordination. I asked Bishop P. R. Kenrick
if I might spend a few days with an old friend and
companion of early days, the pastor of Old Mines.
The permission was granted and I left that very
afternoon. The next day after my arrival at Old
Mines a letter came from the bishop telling me to
return to St. Louis without delay and take the first
boat westward for Independence. It was Father T.
Burke, C. M., who after months of riding over south
west Missouri, wrote Bishop Kenrick that Independ
ence would make a center from which a pastor might
radiate to all points from the Kaw River to Arkan
sas and from the parish of Lexington to the west

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 41
line of Missouri. A soldier never responded quicker
to the command of his General than did I. My re
turn was speedier and safer than my journey of a
few days previous. It was under the guidance of my
reverend friend, the pastor of Old Mines. With an
other Lazarist priest, Father Burke was to wait my
coming at Independence. Instead he met me at
Kanzas as I got off the boat. Father B. was one
of my professors at the Barrens. He handed me
a large map of Missouri with my parish cleverly
drawn out in ink. I had learned before my ordina
tion that Father B. was on a tour of investiga
tion by order of the bishop. 'Here,' said he, point
ing out Independence, 'you are resident pastor,'
then touching the point marked Kanzas, 'this will be
one of your missions for the present, at least.' Then
a third round mark or dot: 'Here is Deepwater- — ¦
this will be your third mission. And your fourth
mission — will be the balance of Missouri down to
Arkansas and west to the Territory.' I asked him
about the church at Independence. 'There is no
church or a house for you — that's what you are sent
here for, to build them. There is some property for
a church willed by Bishop Rosatti.' This encourag
ing information was given me as we sat in a room
of the only hotel in Kanzas."
The few days Father Burke remained were
made helpful for the new pastor. Father Burke had
experience as a traveling missionary in Texas and
had done parish work at the Barrens and at Cape
Girardeau, and as far south as New Madrid. He
was gifted with a hard practical mind and emphatic
views. He had a trite saying that he frequently re
peated: "The only college I ever graduated in was
the College of Common Sense." Father Donnelly
on application would have been entitled to a degree
in the same college.

42 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
»
For some little time Father Donnelly was
busy trying to solve a problem never suggested by
the Lazarist. Father Donnelly was a man at this
period advanced in his forties. The great struggle
from boyhood was not how to master his studies
but how to make life easy for his beloved father
and mother. He knew the world and its selfish
ness much better than did Father Burke who had
a home and comfort in every house of his com
munity the world over. If he had been fortunate
enough to save any money from his earnings
abroad and his salary in America his mind must
have been at rest as he saw what was before him.
If his fare from St. Louis to Independence had
been advanced by his bishop, it was as much as
the diocese could afford.
When Bishop Kenrick took charge of his
western see he found the new cathedral very much
involved in debt. He called the Catholics of the
city to a meeting, read a statement of the financial
encumbrance, and asked that they would at least
reduce the indebtedness. His appeal was met
with silence. Not one cent was contributed. This
was in 1843. St. Louis was largely Catholic then.
Mullanphy, Chouteau, Soulard, Provenchere, Bid-
die, Lucas, Hunt, and many other wealthy men
attended the called meeting. Owners of steam
boats and the heads of the trapping and fur in
dustries from St. Louis to the headwaters of the
Missouri, bankers, merchants, judges of the courts,
and men rich in hundreds of acres of land in and
around St. Louis were there but they had nothing
to offer. In what ratio would Catholic generosity show
itself beginning at St. Louis and going westward to
Independence? At no time was Father Donnelly
what might be called sanguine, except in the be
lief of Kansas City's coming greatness. The few

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 43
years at the Barrens and in the St. Louis Seminary
were the only periods of his life when he lived
night and day in the companionship of others. He
was never lonesome when by himself. He would
go to work without delay. Work solves life's
greatest puzzles in war and peace, in fortune mak
ing, and in building up great enterprises. He
rented a room from a Catholic family named Gil-
son. There was no church or home awaiting him
at Independence. The Catholics there did not ask
for a resident pastor ; they were satisfied with the
services of religion given at intervals by the Jesuit
missionaries from the Territory. Father Donnelly
quickly grasped his opportunities in his two little
villages. In Kansas City with its come day, go
day, people, and in Independence with its more
stable population, he saw a sample of the same
western lack of generosity experienced by the
bishop in his appeal at St. Louis. The Apostles
began the great work of God among men without
any visible gratuities, but the Apostles built no
churches, schools, or parish houses. The new
Christians threw gold at the feet of Peter and
Paul, but it is to be believed that gold was not in
large quantities — just enough to support them and
pay their expenses going from place to place. But
pondering on conditions would never accomplish
what was before him, and Father Donnelly started
out to beg money from Catholics and non-Catholics
with which to buy property for a cemetery and
build the necessary structures for the parish.
Business men and property holders in new towns
have an ambition to see their home cities grow and
are willing to help on in any way to that end. A
church attracts the passerby. It is a sign of pros
perity and presages a future for the new settlement.
A school is looked for when one is traveling to make
a new home for himself and family. The years

44 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
1845 and 1846 saw a tide of population flowing
westward. The Mexican trade had a starting place
from Independence and Kansas City to New Mexico.
The Santa Fe Trail was opening. Teams of oxen
were tugging along with tons of merchandise for
the far Southwest and the Rocky Mountains. Re
turning conveyances with cargoes of Mexican wares
were passing east for purchasers in St. Louis and
points farther east and south. Nearly all these
western commodities were unloaded on steamboats
at the landings at Kansas City and at Shelby Land
ing, a few miles east and south of Independence.
Father Donnelly saw his opportunity. He pleaded
everywhere and from everybody. Property for a
church was willed by Bishop Rosatti. His church
was soon purchased. It was a frame building, 24
by 36 feet, which had been erected for a wagon
shop, and cost $250.00. The graveyard of ten acres
was next acquired ; a residence for the pastor quickly
followed; and then the great object of his heart,
a school house, made the parish complete. He did
not wait for a school building to look after the train
ing of his little children, for he used the church for
a school. Out of his many cares, Father Donnelly
gave the school several hours every day. He was
the first teacher as well as the first pastor of Inde
pendence. He soon introduced into the new school
building a highly competent teacher, Miss Mullins,
a sister of the leading merchant at Independence
Landing. Arrivals from the East in most instances came
by way of steamboats which landed them at Kanzas.
A few left the boats at Shelby Landing, near Inde
pendence. Independence is the county seat of Jack
son County, which was made a county of the State
of Missouri in 1827. The seal of the City of Inde
pendence harks back to those days. The design
shows four mules attached to the covered wagon or

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 45
prairie schooner used in the Santa Fe trade. Car
avans for the long journey across the plains were
outfitted and organized at Independence. These
wagons, of the Conestoga pattern, were manufac
tured first at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and later
at Independence. They were covered with canvas
tightly stretched over hickory bows. Six, eight,
and even ten mules drew these vehicles in the early
days, but after 1829, when Major Riley employed
oxen in transporting baggage and supplies for his
soldiers, the oxen were found to possess greater ad
vantages for this kind of work and gradually re
placed the mules. The Santa Fe trade increased
through the years, but after the Mexican War Inde
pendence saw with dismay that Westport was be
coming the assembling place for the caravans by
reason of its convenience to the steamboats which
landed at the foot of Main Street in Kansas City,
where a ledge of limestone projected out against
the deep water. To regain her prestige Independ
ence built a railroad from her public square to the
Missouri River, to induce steamboats to land and
unload and so cut off the river trade at Kansas City.
This was the first railroad west of the Mississippi
River. It connected the river traffic with the over
land wagon routes. The rush of Kentuckians, Ten-
nesseeans, and people from the other southern states
into the newly opened Jackson County ended at the
Blue River. Very few went into the Kaw district
where the town of Kanzas was striving for an exist
ence. The trapper, the hunter, the voyageur from
Trois Rivieres, the French-Indian Canadians, with
the few merchants buying and selling, made a dis
tinct and separate community. Kanzas was very
small and looked like an impossible site for a city —
indeed, outside the range of possibility for a future
greatness. People with teams could find no room
in the little front or levee for themselves and their

46 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
wagons, and in a circuitous way around the river
bend or through one steep earth road leading south
and east, they headed for Independence, which af
forded a large plateau, to rest. Taverns and stables
sprang up to meet the demands in Independence.
The merchants at Kanzas hailed the daily boats,
sold the passengers all they needed for themselves,
and oxen, mules and horses, then directed them to
Independence where those same merchants owned
the taverns and hotels and boarding houses. They
had their warehouses on the Kanzas levee and owned
the one or two banks. Kanzas had every necessity
for the westward-bound except resting accommoda
tions. The travelers went as directed. They had
to wait at Independence until the government gave
them permits to travel west or south. Those per
mits were handed them when Uncle Sam could af
ford a relay of soldiers to protect them over prairie
and mountain and through hostile Indian bands.
The Indians saw their doom at the approach of the
cry "Westward Ho!" Independence boomed while
this condition obtained.
Father Donnelly received many favors for
church and school. He dealt fairly with the mission
at Kanzas and solicited for the demands that would
soon confront him there. The future for him and
his work directed him to the port of entry near the
Kaw, the place where enterprise was evident. He
was Pastor-Resident of Independence, but its day
could not last. That city where energy and com
merce were in the ascendant would rule, while
boarding places and enforced resting places would
sink into obscurity as neighboring towns. In the
height of his prognostications he caught at his
breath, when news reached him that a Father Saul
nier was appointed resident pastor of Kanzas. Per
haps it was thought at St. Louis that Father Don
nelly's energies were sufficiently taxed with the

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 47
labors of Independence and his annual visits
through the south and west of his larger territory.
Father Saulnier did not try to live in the little log
resting rooms. He rented a comfortable four-room
cottage near the river landing. He then opened a
school in the log church and was its teacher. Jack
son County was then the happy possessor of two
schools, the one under Father Donnelly at Inde
pendence, and the other at Kanzas. Father Saul
nier, a zealous priest originally from Canada, stuck
close to his teaching and parish duties along the
river front and on the west bottoms and the hill
tops. His Canadian parishioners and a few Cath
olics from Kentucky liked him, but not enough to
support him; anyhow, his abode in Jackson County
was short. Possibly he thought when he came
West his work would be among the Indians. He
sought no help among those outside of his own
Faith. Father Saulnier returned to Canada.
For the second time Father Donnelly was left
to look after the Catholics on the Missouri River
east of the Kaw River. He was determined to keep
a very close eye on the City of Destiny. With a
light heart and renewed energy he once more took
Kanzas under his care. In 1853 the inhabitants of
Kanzas organized themselves into a city. They
drew up a charter, elected a mayor, council, mar
shal and judge. Corporate limits were drawn, with
Broadway on the west, Troost Avenue on the east,
the river on the north and Independence Avenue
on the south. Father Donnelly had been one of
the first to advocate the organization of a city. He
was present at the many meetings called for this
purpose and on each occasion made a strong appeal
to throw aside township limitations and become a
city with a charter. The strongest objection to the
movement was the physical condition. Except for
the narrow strip of ground skirting the river, bluffs

48 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
as high as little mountains were immediately to the
south and west. The few hundred inhabitants were
merchants, teamsters, trappers and fishermen, con
stantly coming and going, and nearly all living in
the west and east bottoms. The property owners
were willing to assess themselves to pay for all
necessary improvements. But where were they to
find the contractors? There were no hardy shov-
elers to tear down the hills and fill up the valleys
on the west. Father Donnelly at the public meet
ings met the difficulty by asking to be deputed
to do so and he would bring hundreds of Irishmen
from the East to dig and level off and make streets
and curb them, and construct sewers. He also
guaranteed he would have two men, friends of his
at St. Louis, who would build a gas factory and lay
gas pipes to bring light to homes and streets. They
joyfully accepted his help. He immediately wrote
the Boston Pilot and Freeman's Journal of New
York asking his countrymen to come to the rescue.
He offered them better wages than they could ob
tain in the East and promised to pay their way
to Kansas City. He asked for 150 men from New
York and 150 more from Boston. He put his guar
antees of good faith in the hands of trustworthy
employment agencies in the two eastern cities. He
made his offer in time to get the laborers here on
the first boats leaving St. Louis in the early spring.
He put a wise condition in his contract. He in
sisted that all the men be from the same county
in Ireland. The readers who may recall one of
the greatest drawbacks to Irish laborers at that
time will recognize the shrewdness of the priest in
this demand. He might have made application by
way of St. Louis, but the Irish laborers there were
not so numerous and were satisfied with their em
ployment and were busy unloading boats and in
construction work on the new railroads going north,

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 49
south and west of St. Louis, and coming through
Illinois to reach St. Louis.
When the 300 men arrived it was plain the
eastern agencies had been careful in selecting and
forwarding willing, husky fellows, and every one
from the Province of Connaught. Father Donnelly
interviewed them and was more than pleased to
learn that they had to a man labored on public
works since their arrival in America. He then
insisted that every man pledge himself to abstain
from liquor, at least while employed in Kansas City.
With this they immediately complied. He had not
forgotten his good work in Father Matthew's cause
in Liverpool. Comfortable quarters for sleeping
and eating were awaiting them. They were tem
porary one-story buildings facing what is now Sixth
Street and running from Broadway to the present
Bluff Street. Two Catholic families took the con
tract to feed the men and keep their quarters tidy.
In deference to their part of Ireland, their imme
diate district was dubbed Connaught Town. Father
Donnelly was attentive to their wants and their
ways. He kept a strict watch on them, seeing that
they attended Mass and their religious duties most
regularly. As he said one Mass in Kanzas every
Sunday they had opportunities to attend the divine
service and approach the Sacraments. When the
hills were torn away and other work done some of
them remained in Kansas City; others went west
or found employment on farms, or faced eastward.

CHAPTER V.
FATHER DONNELLY AND THE TEN ACRES.

S^^HE growth of Catholics made Father Don-
M C\ nelly think of a new and larger church edi-
^ J fice. But an unexpected move on the part
^^^ of his parishioners set back the very
thought of building. Father Donnelly's keen eye
and observing manner failed him for once. He
had a way of finding out what people were think
ing about. He was not a mind reader but he was
of a shrewd and inquiring turn. He was forever
surmising and asking questions. He noticed the
people whispering as they gathered in little knots
on the church ground on Sundays. He soon learned
that secret meetings were being held at a large
storehouse owned by a prominent Catholic. He
started around making inquiries. The plot was
divulged. They were getting signatures for a peti
tion to Archbishop Kenrick asking him to sell the
ten acres and two little buildings on the property
and with the proceeds purchase a fifty-foot lot with
a one-story empty storeroom down in the city. The
storeroom was larger than the church they were
using. The location was Second and Cherry Streets,
adjoining the Chouteau home. He did not display
any feeling of opposition, but said the idea was not
a bad one. When would they hold their next meet
ing? He would like to be present; indeed, he
thought he would sign the petition. His name
would lend strength to the request. He came in
from Independence to be with them at the next
meeting. The attendance was large and repre
sentative of the parish. Mr. P. Shannon, a prom
inent merchant and afterwards mayor of the city,
presided. The Jarboes, Chouteaus, Guinotte, Tour-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 51
geon, Troost, and Mr. Payne whose wife was a
Catholic, with many others, were present. Speeches
advocating the object of the meeting were made.
One sentiment ran through the address and was
applauded by clapping of hands; the ten acres
should be traded for the fifty-foot lot. When
everyone anxious to talk had been heard, Father
Donnelly was invited to take the floor. He ex
pressed great pleasure at the large attendance.
It showed the parishioners were interested in the
welfare of the parish. The little hamlet of yes
terday is today a city; it must have a church and
this is one of the ways of getting it. "But," he
continued, "I find names absent from the petition.
Be sure and get everyone in the parish to sub
scribe. There is no particular hurry. Take a few
days more to make a complete list of Catholics."
Father Donnelly was with the meeting as well as
in it. The people had won the pastor. The meet
ing adjourned. Father Donnelly mounted his In
dian pony and went home to Independence. He
immediately wrote a letter to the archbishop tell
ing of the meeting, that he was present and had
signed the petition. "I did so, Your Grace, because
I recognize the shrewdness of the old Irish saying,
'If you can't bate the enemy, jine him.' I beg you
that you keep this letter a secret. You will recall
the ten acres they wish to barter away for a fifty-
foot lot and an unused frame storehouse. Once
before Doctor Troost and other promoters made
the same request to your Grace. Kansas City has
thrown off the appearance of an ungainly but
lively little hamlet. We have dug down big hills
and filled up deep ravines. Our streets are laid
out and macadamized and guttered, and brick side
walks line each side. We have become citified.
Our Catholics have all of a sudden found out the
church in the ten acres is away off on one of the

52 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
few remaining hills. They begin to complain of
the fatigue of climbing, which all at once has
become unbearable. The females of our flock say
that going up to the log church is 'horrid' and that
the streets in the new city are becoming impossible
for shopping on Mondays because of the sticky yel
low mud carried down from the church every Sun
day. Then, your Grace, some enterprising real
estate men looking for commissions are back of
the movement and have aroused our people. The
other village churches are looking for sites within
the city limits. The city is daily growing in pop
ulation. The limits laid out in the charter are not
extensive enough. The city must grow south. It
cannot grow north, for the Missouri River is the
north boundary. It must grow south as the trade
is in that direction, and then it must develop a
residence district which will sooner or later be on
the plateau called Westport. Until that time comes
the people will choose the northwest section for
their homes. I predict the ten acres and immediate
neighborhood will be for years the most desirable
residence part of Kansas City. Where the city is
now must necessarily be the business district. Be
sides, your Grace, selling ten acres for a 50-foot
lot near the levee would be an egregious mistake.
In a little while we would be buying another fifty
feet to enlarge the poorly constructed building there
now, then we would need more property for the
priest's house and school, and it would be a con
stant patching up and lengthening out, and after
a short time all our parishioners would have moved
to newer and more desirable neighborhoods. Ten
acres consecrated by the memory of Kansas City's
first resident pastor and deeded by him to your
predecessor, Bishop Rosatti, has untold wealth in
its stone deposits and the very clay in it for many
feet down means thousands of dollars when moulded

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 53
into brick. The ten acres may yet build a cathedral
and institutions of charity and learning. Do not
be hard on me if I have been a little foxy in my
way of heading off the well meant intentions of
my flock." Father Donnelly completed his remonstrance,
and though the hour of midnight had arrived, he
saddled his horse and rode rapidly towards Liberty
where he awaited the first eastbound steamboat.
The postmaster on board the boat received his let
ter and carried it to St. Louis. The archbishop
answered the committee, saying he could not com
ply with their request. Father Donnelly was happy
but not boastful over his success in saving the ten
acres. His letter was really prophetic — the most
aristocratic part of Kansas City for many years
was the immediate neighborhood of the ten acres.
There was merit in at least two of the reasons
assigned in the petition. But the reasons strong
est to him was the distance for many of the people
and the difficulty of getting there. The church
was on a bluff looking over the west bottoms and
the Missouri and Kaw Rivers. There was a deep
ravine south of the church, running to what is
Eleventh Street, and growing deeper as it neared
Broadway, then taking a course east, skirting the
north side of Broadway and making a short turn
to Fifth Street. In the rainy season the ravine
was impassable except for a very frail-looking
bridge near the entrance to the church property.
This bridge led into the southeast corner of the
ten acres. The majority of the people had to face
danger from bridge and water. Mr. Shannon, as
chairman of the petitioners, received the response
from the archbishop. He showed it to Father Don
nelly, who suggested that a meeting of the parish
at large be held after the Mass on the following
Sunday. At the meeting he told the people he had

54 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
thought of a scheme somewhat similar to their
written proposal to his Grace. Instead of exchang
ing properties, why not rent the store and 50-foot
lot near Second and Cherry Streets? "You will
have the use of the property there for a nominal
sum and still own the ten acres. You will have all
the conveniences of the new church and none of
the difficulty of coming and going." The sugges
tion took with the congregation. On the next Sun
day, Father said Mass in the frame building in the
city, two blocks south of the Missouri and four
blocks north from Independence Avenue, the south
line or limit of Kansas City. The church held more
worshippers and brought out some non-Catholics.
The little altar from the old church was there, and
the pictures. The hard oak pews, not even planed,
were substituted by shining pine ones which were
painted before the second Sunday. It was told by
many people that Father Donnelly preached much
better in the rented church. "We carted down
everything we could except the bell and the name.
Father Le Roux never christened his little log
church, calling it simply a church, in his transfer
of title to Bishop Rosatti. I had in my mind a
name most sacred to me from earliest days, which
would soon be the title of an article of Faith."
It was the sale of portions of the ten acres
that practically built the present cathedral. It was
the sale of the west half of the block on which the
cathedral stands that erected the St. Joseph Orphan
Asylum. The stones quarried from the asylum site
were formed into the footing courses and range
work as well as the window and door sills and
steps to the front and rear entrances of the build
ing. Father Donnelly out of his own means paid
the expenses up to the brick work. The second
attempt to dispose of the original church was foiled.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 55
A few years and the city limits had to be ex
tended. The river neighborhood was given over to
business and the many residents who could afford
it moved to higher and newer points. The words
of Father Donnelly were verified in his own day,
the old church neighborhood was known as Quality
Hill, where the wealthy erected homes that would
do credit to the best in St. Louis and the eastern
cities. Father Donnelly looked with watchful eyes
upon the ten acres. They were to him like a sacred
inheritance, and inheritances are sometimes dis
puted. After the Civil War the city limits kept spread
ing from the first charter size. Ten acres of ground
daily growing more valuable looked to the Kansas
City Catholics like a fortune does to wishful, waiting
heirs while the grandsire lives long beyond the years
allotted man. The city's growth and the increased
number of Catholics justified another parish. St.
Patrick's was founded in 1869. Father James Hal-
pin and his congregation held services in the base
ment of a nearby unfinished German church named
for Saints Peter and Paul. The new parish looked
promising. Its people were largely new arrivals.
They wanted a church. The city had not yet
moved southward. The tendency was east. Main
Street was the division line, and from Main Street
east and west there was an elevation of many feet,
beginning south of Eighth Street. The new pastor,
Father Halpin, had just left the Society of Jesus
where he had been a professor for many years.
At the very first business meeting in the new par
ish the question raised was not how much will each
one give to the new parish, but how much of the
ten acres are we entitled to? A committee was
appointed to wait on Father Donnelly and make
a claim on what they maintained was theirs. The
ten acres were again a bone of contention. Father

56 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
Donnelly's response was a letter from Archbishop
Kenrick, which he read them. He introduced the
letter by saying : "I knew you were coming." This
letter, like all Archbishop Kenrick's letters, was
very short and to the point.
"Rev. B. Donnelly,
Rev. Dr. Sir:
"In answer to yours of Nov. 20, I wish to
say, the 10 acres belong to Immaculate Conception
parish. The coming new parish, as well as all com
ing parishes, shall have no claim on the site pur
chased by my predecessor, Bishop Rosatti, from
Fr. Le Roux. Yours in Christ. tP. R. Kenrick."
This letter headed off all further demands on
the ten acres. A storm of indignation came from
the disappointed claimants which finally subsided
and was followed by a wholesome spirit of rivalry.
Father Donnelly treasured the letters he received
in the instance of the early committee, and this
blank refusal to Father Halpin. He would read
these letters to coming new pastors to warn them
against any aggressions, and would say, "You see
what you may expect."
The new parish witnessed the German con
gregation insisting on a parish graveyard. This
was a tolerated privilege demanded and enjoyed
everywhere the German Catholics started a parish.
St. Patrick's parish persisted in its clamor for a
cemetery of its own. Father Halpin was succeeded
by Father Archer, who, after a short while, was
appointed to St. Patrick's Church, St. Louis. Father
Dunn was the third pastor. He agreed with his
people that a parish graveyard was right and
proper. Father Donnelly's letter of protest
brought a response from the archbishop forbidding
any other graveyard for the English-speaking

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 57
parishes than the one in the original ten acres. He
also stated that the control of that cemetery would
remain in the hands of Father Donnelly. Before
this letter from the archbishop arrived Father
Dunn had been deeded several acres for his parish
cemetery. The present came from a prominent
member of Father Donnelly's parish. Of course, the
new site was never used for the purpose of the
transfer. The 2nd and Cherry Street Church served its
purpose well — there was quiet in the parish except
for the usual grumblers who refused to contribute
their share in paying the rent of the 50-foot lot
and the church. Father Donnelly observed that
some of his people who had homes near the rented
property were disposing of them and purchasing
near Broadway and not far from the old original
property. Business was encroaching. He satisfied
himself that the ten acres near 12th Street had
ideal soil for brickmaking. He made test after
test and then with the help of two brickmakers
from St. Louis he began the manufacture of brick.
He claimed his was the first large brickyard ever
opened in Kansas City. Several business houses
and many residences were constructed of his prod
uct. Bricks of course commanded a good price,
but lumber cost more because it had to be shipped
a great distance from the East. Kansas was a
vast prairie. The industries in St. Joseph, Liberty,
Weston and Lexington, all neighboring and larger
towns than Kansas City, were tobacco and hemp
factories. Negro slaves were the workmen. Form
ing materials for buildings must have been ex
clusively in the hands of white men, and the native
white man that was forced to work in the slave
states selected an occupation that afforded him
plenty of time to lounge.

Father Donnelly's Church, Broadway between Eleventh and Twelfth
Streets. Built in 1856; torn down in 1885

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 59
When his brickyard was under way, Father
Donnelly worked for hours daily side by side with
his help. The venture was a paying one and he soon
had money enough in the local banks to justify him
in proclaiming in newspaper and church and to the
citizens as he met them that he would soon start on
a new brick church. The bricks were on hand, the
stone for the foundation and trimmings were near
the site of the coming structure and the location
would face Broadway on the ten acres. The glitter
from the new city had dimmed and people were look
ing for building places that would give ample room
and the comforts of air and sunshine, just a little
outside corporation lines. A city narrowed down
like Kansas City was certain to be dusty and
smoky. Grass and trees fade and die from smoke
and dust off streets. The ten acres, free from the
trampling of people for a few years, were carpeted
with a verdure of blue grass planted with the best
Kentucky seed. The trees were well kept. Out
side of the four acre portion alloted to the cemetery
the grounds were converted into a shaded park
with seats and walks. The old church property
became a popular visiting place on Sundays and
holidays. What a delightful site for a church !
How pleased the people were at the prospect of
soon coming back to the first location! Father
Donnelly had won again, and this was a victory
— he was leading his flock home again!
Father Donnelly resumed his letters to the
Boston Pilot and the New York Freeman's Jour
nal after the arrival of the 300 laborers to tear
down the bluffs and small mountains and fill up
the valleys and hollows made by the rains and
springs on their way to the Missouri and Kaw
Rivers. Many desirable families heeded his ad
vice and came west, some of them to make their
homes in Kansas City and others to farm in Jack-

60 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
son County and in Kansas. The growth of Catho
lics in and close to Kansas City demanded a new
church. He had money on hand from collections
and from the sale of bricks made on the ten acres
and of stone taken out of the property, and of
lime from the two lime kilns he had in operation
for months. With the archbishop's permission he
started on the excavations. The footing courses
were soon in place and the stone ranges went up
quickly. The date of the cornerstone laying was
the second Sunday after Pentecost, 1856. The
ceremony attracted a very large attendance. Boat
excursions brought people from Liberty and Wes
ton, from St. Joseph, and a company of soldiers
from Fort Leavenworth. It would seem that every
body in Independence and Kansas City turned out.
Father Hammil came all the way from Lexington
and brought many people with him. From St.
Louis came Fathers William Wheeler, Patrick
O'Brien, and the venerable Father Saulnier, the
priest whom Father Donnelly visited on his way
to Old Mines the day of his ordination. Two
Jesuit Fathers from St. Mary's, Kansas, kindly
gave their presence. Father O'Brien preached
the sermon and Father Donnelly laid the corner
stone. The size of the edifice was 30 by 60 feet.
The walls were of brick, made and carefully se
lected by the pastor and his helpers in his parish
brickyard. Father Donnelly was ready to entertain his
reverend guests. East of the new cornerstone
he had just completed a two-story house for a
residence. In his reveries — and he was forever
planning and looking ahead — he could see himself
comfortably ensconced in the largest brick pas
toral residence west of St. Louis, a few feet from
the largest and the best put-together church be
tween the Kaw and Mississippi Rivers. But how

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 61
men's dreams "gang aft agley!" Father Don
nelly pushed on the church structure without any
unnecessary delay. In early summer he dedicated
the church. The dedication sermon was delivered
by Bishop Miege, Vicar-Apostolic of Kansas, who
also performed the dedication ceremonies. Dur
ing all this labor Father Donnelly would steal away
to Independence perhaps three times a week. He
was resident pastor of Independence and simply
missionary priest at Kansas City. It would sound
better and be in keeping with Canon titles to call
his Kansas City church a "chapel of ease," a suc-
cursal church. He did not give the name of a
saint to the chapel on 5th Street, and he tells in a
letter to the Catholic Banner that it was Father
De Smet who christened the unnamed log church St.
Francis Regis. On the day of dedication, before
Bishop Miege began the ceremonies, Father Don
nelly, standing on the altar, announced : "This
church will be dedicated to the Virgin Mother
under the title of Immaculate Conception." By
that title the bishop dedicated it, by that title it
was known and called by bishops, priests and peo
ple, and when the first bishop of Kansas City
dedicated his cathedral he announced to the vast
congregation, "I now take the name Mary Immacu
late from the little church near by and hand it
over to our new cathedral. Let it be called Im
maculate Conception Cathedral." The writer was
present in the sanctuary the day of the dedica
tion of the cathedral and heard these words of the
bishop, and preached the dedication sermon.

CHAPTER VI.
MRS. DILLON'S RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY
DAYS.
At the suggestion of the writer, in 1878, Mrs.
Dillon, Kansas City's oldest native resident, wrote
her recollections of the early days for publication
in the Catholic Banner. Her account follows:
Editor of Catholic Banner:
X cheerfully comply with your request to
write about myself and early Kansas City
for your newspaper. I have the proud
distinction of being the first white child
born on the site of Westport. I never heard of any
Indian child born before me here and so I presume
I am the very first child of any kind or race born
here. Indians may have and no doubt did pass
back and forth but never pitched their tents in
these parts. The Indians, like the first white men,
lived close to streams for the same reason the
whites did — because it was easier of ingress and
egress, and because they found food in the fishes
that were in the Kansas and Missouri Rivers. They
hunted on the plains where the buffaloes and other
wild animals were in abundance. The soil was
productive, so they had plenty to eat.
My parents came from Kentucky. They lived
for a little while after their arrival on the bottom
land near the Kaw known as the West bottoms, to
distinguish it from the bottoms east, or East bot
toms. The West bottoms were held in preference
by newcomers, because they faced on two rivers.
One day my father strayed over the big bluffs and
after a few miles' walk southward came to the
high level known now as Westport. On his return

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 63
he told Mother that the place he had visited was
more desirable for a home as it was much cooler
and was away from the damp fogs of the streams,
and the soil reminded him of Kentucky. The low
lands were sandy. Besides in his native state he
had lived near the Ohio River and on two different
occasions was driven out of his home by high
water floods. On his walk south he found two
Kentucky families who advised him strongly to
come out near them and they would help him cut
down trees and build a log cabin. Mother assented
and next day they put their few belongings in their
wagon and drove south. They were kindly re
ceived, and the very next day set to work cutting
the timber. Within a week, with the help of their
neighbors, they had their small log house ready
for occupation. It was one-story and 8x12 feet
in size. It was in this log cabin I was born on
March 25th, 1820. The ground was no man's
land, my parents were told ; it was in territory
ceded some little time before to the United States
by the Osage Tribe of Indians. Father never gave
a thought to ownership nor preemption nor squat
ter's right — just took possession. Our two neighbors
were equally careless about title. Another way to
acquire property at that time was by government
patent, but they knew nothing about patents from
Uncle Sam.
It was easy to keep the home warm, for wood
was plentiful. But the larder had to be provided
for. In the West bottoms the Astor Fur Com
pany needed food and lodging for their employees
and the Canadian-French were making more than
a living feeding and rooming the hunters and
trappers and selling garden products to the fur
boats and to men passing in skiffs north and
south. Nature had made a good landing place
or levee between the West and East bottoms. And

64 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
soldiers on their way to the Fort Leavenworth
would go to the Canadian squatters for potatoes,
chickens and prairie birds, and sometimes make
contracts for a regular supply for the army. Money
was passing hands and a few stores were doing
good business. There was some stir in the bot
toms and my parents were soon forced by a con
stantly thinning out of their purse to leave their
new home and go back to the sandy soil they had
recently left. Our Canadian friends welcomed us
back. They told my parents that a Catholic priest
from Florissant had promised to visit them and ad
minister the consolations of religion. "Oh," said
they to Mother, "there are many little children
who will be baptized when he comes." It was in
1821, early in spring, he arrived. His name was
Father La Croix.
During my parents' stay here before going to
what is now Westport, a goodly number of our
neighbors would go to the home of Peter Clement
Lessert every Sunday to recite Catholic prayers, in
lieu of Mass, for up to the coming of Father La
Croix no priest had ever visited here. My parents
were very friendly with their Canadian neighbors
and went every Sunday to the prayer meeting.
Father and Mother at that time were not affiliated
to any church. Their neighbors were good, simple
people and their church had made them such. It
did not require much persuasion to induce my par
ents to consent to have my brother, three years
of age, and me, their baby, baptized by Father
La Croix. He remained here about a month. Mass
and other services were held in the home of Clem
ent Lessert. Before Father left here for St. Joseph
my parents were baptized by him. My Godparents
were Callis Montardeau and his wife Helois. The
date of my baptism was May 14th, 1821. Father
La Croix spent some weeks in and around St.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 65
Joseph and then went north to the Sioux country —
it was called by that name and is now Sioux City.
He returned to west bottoms in the fall and said
Mass two Sundays. This time the Mass was said
the first Sunday in the home of Peter La Liberte
and the second Sunday in Francois Trumley's resi
dence in tne west bottoms. The Chouteau family
had not yet arrived and all the Catholics were in
the west bottoms.
The historical data I am now giving you is not
reminiscent, as I was not at a mentally receptive
condition at the time I am mentioning. I have
before me a diary given me in my tenth year by
my Godmother, Mrs. Montardeau. She was an edu
cated woman, who before the days of the French
Revolution was a student in one of the best convent
academies in her native France. Her parents were
killed by the madmen of those days and her prop
erty confiscated. She came out West from Canada.
You asked me for church history. I find in this
diary or memorandum book that the next priest
who visited this site was Father Joseph Lutz from
the Cathedral at St. Louis. He made his home
with the Montardeau family. He was of German
birth but spoke French and English well. From
the West Kansas bottoms he visited the Kaw and
Kickapoo Tribes. It was from the Kaw Tribes
Kansas and Kansas City got their names. They
were nearly all Catholics and were the Indians that
called on Bishop Rosatti for a priest. Father Lutz
was secretary to Bishop Rosatti and in 1845 built
St. Patrick's Church in St. Louis. He left St. Louis
and became pastor of a church in New York City,
where he died. He returned his calls to this place
at intervals as late as the spring of 1844. I find
in the Montardeau diary that his last appearance
here was in the early spring of 1844. He left in
time to escape the great flood of 1844.

66 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
I often thought over what I heard many a
Catholic mother say when I was a child: "What
a terrible affliction families bring on themselves
by moving into hew and distant countries and thus
cutting themselves away from all the benefits and
consolations of religion. The struggle for exist
ence in new parts is nothing nearly so hard as the
feeling, we are bereft of God's best ministrations in
life and death. What a happy news when the word
went around that a priest is coming to us!"
Father Roux came here in 1833. I can recall
his arrival. While here he lived with the Chouteau
family, whose residence then and for many years
was where Cherry and Second Streets meet. He
said Mass in the Chouteau residence every Sunday.
Close to the Chouteaus was a small frame build
ing used by Father Donnelly for church purposes,
when the Catholics tired of climbing up the hills
to the log church.
Father Roux visited here from Kaskaskia on
at least two occasions after leaving this part of
the world. It was Father Roux who purchased the
ten acres and gave them to Bishop Rosatti for a
consideration of two dollars. Father Donnelly held
on to the ten acres with the log church and office
or rest structure nearby. Neither Father Roux
nor any of the succeeding priests ever lived in this
little log affair. It is still standing and is always
called Kansas City's first parsonage, but in fact
never was fitted or occupied by any priest coming,
going, or staying here.
Fathers Van Quickenborne and P. Van Hoecken
passed here on their first visit to the Kickapoo
village in 1836. The memory of the Jesuit Fathers
is as clear to me as events of yesterday. They
lived with the Pottawatomie Indians and attended
here at intervals until the coming of Father Don
nelly in 1845. I often heard from Father Donnelly

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 67
that it was Father De Smet who gave the name
St. Francis Regis to the little log church. You ask
me about St. Xavier's Church. There never was
any such church here. The one church structure
was all required. A church at Westport — let me
tell you I was at Mass the Sunday Bishop Kenrick
appeared here. I recall he baptized and confirmed
before beginning Mass. He put down the names
of the baptized and confirmed and requested that
the entries be made at the church at Westport.
Before taking a boat for St. Louis he was waited
on by nearly all the Catholics. Among other things
he told us that he wished the baptisms and con
firmations done by him the last Sunday be for
warded to the Westport Church. "Westport
Church?" said Mr. Chouteau, "There is no such
church. Ours is the only church in these parts."
"Why," said the Bishop, "I was informed there
was a church at Westport, and as there was no
priest to receive me here I made the request after
writing the names. Where do the Fathers live
who attend here?" "Over the line some miles in
the Territory," replied Mr. Chouteau. "I am ex
pecting a long visit from a Bishop friend, and shall
request him to visit here all through these parts
to give me a correct report of churches and mis
sions." A bishop named Barron soon arrived and
went west to the Jesuits for some days. Our own
bishop seemed displeased to have no priest when
he reached here, and said something about "vision
churches." The coming of Father De Smet was always
a gala day. Everyone knew and loved him and
everybody has heard and read of his many con
versions in the Indian tribes. Father Donnelly is
a combination of the missionary and the resident
priest. He is a man of great versatility and earnest
ness. He is tanned by the sun, and hardened by the

68 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
chill of the winter. He and his Indian pony are
known from Kansas all through southeast Missouri.
Father Roux was a son of a family of means
abroad. He was not a forceful character, but rather
inclined to be just going to do something. He
surely did a wise thing when he purchased the ten
acres for the coming church. Father Roux was
of commanding appearance, with light hair and
refined taste.
Father Saulnier, who was here for a little over
one year, has the credit of starting and teaching
the first school ever in Kansas City. His stay was
entirely too short. From Father La Croix, the
first priest, to Father Dalton, the latest arrival, I
have had some acquaintance with everyone.
When 1 married Mr. Dillon I soon found my
self on my native heath, where I was born. All
during the days of the Santa Fe trail and when
hundreds were traveling to the California and
Pike's Peak gold regions, Westport was a lively
village. It was all tents and looked like the resting
place of an army. Few buildings went up. Nearly
all the arrivals came with tents and lived in them
while waiting for a cavalcade of soldiers for safety
going through the plains and over the mountains.
It seems like yesterday since newly appointed
bishops and their priests would pitch their tents
in and around our town. They said Mass in the
tents every morning. Occasionally on a Sunday I
would request a bishop or priest to sav his Mass
in my parlor. At least three times Father Don
nelly favored us with Divine Services. I recall he
always brought one of his nephews to serve his
Mass. From his arrival, Father Donnelly accommo
dated himself in many ways to the needs of his
congregation. He preached a sermon in English.
He was quick in picking up a language, and was

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 69
here only a few Sundays when his knowledge of
French justified him in delivering a short sermon
in French. I know that when he came here he
could not converse in French. But he gave us all
a surprise one Sunday by saluting a number of
Osage Indians who stopped over on their way to
Washington. Several- weeks before their arrival
Father Donnelly learned from his friends, the Jes
uit Fathers at Osage, that they were coming. He
promptly called on the Professor of Indian Lan
guage at Shawnee Mission to teach him the Osage
dialect. He repeated his visits and remained for
hours every day acquiring enough of the tongue to
make a talk to the coming Indians. After a ser
mon in English he addressed the Indians for fully
fifteen minutes in the Osage. They were all atten
tion while he spoke. They did not seem surprised,
for Indians never look surprised. After Mass we
gathered around the twenty or thirty natives and
asked if they understood Father Donnelly. They
said, "Yes, he speak Indian." The white man, the
government agent, told us that Father Donnelly
made himself thoroughly understood. He continued
his lessons in Indian for a long while afterwards.
The same Indians, on their way home, were here
for Sunday and Father Donnelly again addressed
them in the Osage tongue.
This is my second venture in newspaper lines.
I pray kind indulgence. MRS. DILLON.

CHAPTER VII.
FATHER DONNELLY GIVES UP THE INDE
PENDENCE PARISH, 1857.
M^'HE dedication of the Kansas City brick
d C\ church was still fresh in Father Donnelly's
^^ J recollection and he was in his home at
^^^ Independence when a priest named Father
Denis Kennedy made his appearance and announced
himself pastor of Kansas City. If Father Donnelly
ever had a nerve he must have turned it off as one
turns off an electric light. With extended hand
and a friendly smile playing on his face, he con
gratulated and welcomed the brother priest, and
to continue what he considered the pleasantry, he
complimented him and said, "By the way, there's
not a priest in the diocese that would not be hon
ored by such a promotion." When the visitor was
seated Father Donnelly asked him when he had
arrived, and had he come by way of Kansas City.
"Well, Father Donnelly," he replied, "I came by
boat to Kansas City yesterday, and I propose to
return on the first eastbound packet. Here is my
letter of appointment." Father Donnelly read the
letter, witn the ease and self-control of a man who
was»receiving commonplace news. He said : "Father
Kennedy, do not go away. You surely have been
promoted. Where you have come has a great fu
ture and a good-sized congregation. Central Town
ship, where you were, will never be big enough
to act as tail to the kite of St. Louis. Besides, it
will not advance your standing with your arch
bishop to show the white feather now. What is
the matter? Why do you refuse Kansas City?"
"I learn," said the priest, "there is a debt on the
parish and I will never undertake to pay a debt

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 71
made by another." "Well," said Father Donnelly,
"I do not want you to go away. Would you take
a parish out here, without a cent of debt, and with
church, school, and property of several acres, and
a cemetery? If you say yes, I'll give you Inde
pendence and go myself to Kansas City and pay
off that small debt." Father Kennedy assented
and remained as guest with Father Donnelly until
a response from a letter to Archbishop Kenrick
arrived. The archbishop replied, "I am satisfied
with the arrangement between Fathers Donnelly
and Kennedy, and hereby make the appointments
of Father Donnelly to be resident pastor of Kan
sas City and Father Kennedy resident pastor of
Independence." Father Donnelly left within a few
hours for his home in Kansas City. He carried
with him a satchel containing absolute necessities,
and a few days afterwards removed his library
and wearing apparel. Father Donnelly, having a
keen business sense, realized he got the better in
the transaction and for that he thanked God and
his own shrewdness.
Father Denis Kennedy was a worthy successor
at Independence. He was gifted with the true
missionary spirit of Father Donnelly. His health
was rugged and he never tired, following Father
Donnelly's long journeys on horseback in search
of the scattered members of the fold of Christ.
During the bushwhacking and guerilla raids by
independent bands of southern cavalry, and the
counterraids of what was called the Jennison Jay-
hawkers from Kansas into Jackson County, Father
Kennedy's services were kindly recognized by the
contending forces. He was frequently sent for by
both sides to administer to the wounded and the
dying. One night on his way to one of these calls
he was suddenly halted and commanded to iden
tify himself. He gave his name and place of resi-

72 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
dence. The outlaw troop had never heard of him.
When he said he was a priest they immediately
connected him with some spies and detectives who
in the garb of ministers of the Gospel were sent to
ferret out the hiding places of Quantrill and his
daring aide-de-camp, Jesse James. They refused
to heed his pleas and ordered him to dismount.
He was led to a convenient tree to be shot. Western
outlaws always prefer to kill a victim when he has
the support of a tree. When the three sharpshoot
ers who did the executions were moving to the
usual thirty paces in front, a soldier sleeping near
by on the ground suddenly awoke. As he sat up
his eyes fell on the condemned man. The first
glance convinced him he knew the prisoner, and
the second look made him shout: "Boys, don't
shoot. That's a man who harbored me and
Brother Frank in his house in Independence when
we were wounded by the Jennison fiends. That's
Father Kennedy, a Catholic priest." The execu
tioners lowered their guns. It was Jesse James
who had spoken. He rushed to Father Kennedy
and asked where he was going. "To visit a dying
man," replied the priest. "I thought so," said Jesse,
"you're always good to the sick arid wounded and
the dying. I'll escort you, Father, and that fellow
that ordered you shot will go along, too. That's
Bill Sheppard, a pretty bad fellow, but he isn't
afraid of anything or anybody. Come on, Bill!"
ordered the superior officer, Jesse James. They
rode side by side of the priest to the home of the
dying Catholic. They then saw Father Kennedy to
his door in Independence. This story was fre
quently told by Father Kennedy after the war.
Two of Father Kennedy's parishioners became as
sociated with the Quantrill guerilla band, as they
were called, and in an interview with the reporter
of a Kansas City evening paper, said they heard

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 73
the occurrence related by those who were with
Jesse on the night that Father Kennedy had the
close call. Father Kennedy was transferred to
Hannibal, Missouri, in 1871, and before he died
purchased the church erected by the Congre
gationalists at Hannibal immediately before the
Civil War. It is one of the largest and finest
church edifices in Missouri. Its cost price when
labor and material were low was $70,000.00.
Father Kennedy's successors at Independence
were Father O'Neill, Father Kennedy's predeces
sor at Hannibal, Father E. J. Shea, a brilliant and
hard working priest, then first assistant to Bishop
Ryan at St. John's Church, St. Louis, who was
appointed pastor when Father O'Neill resigned to
join the diocese of Chicago. But Father Shea de
clined the proffer. Father T. Fitzgerald then be
came pastor of Independence where he continued
until his death in 1910.

fi

CHAPTER VIII.
COLONIZER AND ENTHUSIAST.
'ATHER DONNELLY quickly cleared off
the few thousand dollars' indebtedness on
the new Immaculate Conception Church.
The Kansas City parish did not long
confine the labors of Father Donnelly. Shortly
after leaving Independence he received orders to
attend as outmission the city of Liberty, which
meant all Clay County. This new charge, after
two years, was transferred to the pastor of Inde
pendence. Bishop Miege in 1857 requested Father
Donnelly to take care of the handful of Catholics
a few miles across the Kaw in the Kanzas Terri
tory. While doing this service for his friend he
induced some very desirable Irish families recently
from his own county in Ireland to buy farms in
Kansas on the road leading to Leavenworth. ' This
settlement was fortunate in following his advice.
Their farms were very productive and the pur
chasers were practical, industrious farmers. Some
few, however, never got over their lonesomeness
for their old country and were constantly finding
fault and regretting their investment. Father
Donnelly was always solicitous for his countrymen
and aided them in selecting good locations. His
choice was the farming lands. "The only trade
you ever followed at home was farming. Go to the
farms," he would say. "The temptations of the
cities are great, and too many of you are yielding
to them." After his experience with the few dis
contented ones in Kansas he ever afterwards was
slow to point out any particular place for future
homes except within his own parish lines.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 75
Father Donnelly's many letter's to eastern
newspapers made his name well known in New
York and Boston. The name of the Kansas settle
ment was the one usually given every locality en
tered by Irishmen. It was called "Irish Settle
ment." That name may be frequently found in the
church directories of the '40s and '50s. For in
stance, in the Directory of 1849 the Jesuit mission
aries from St. Mary's claim a mission called Irish
Settlement, but its whereabouts is not printed. No
doubt there was such a place which the Fathers
attended. The U. S. Post Office did not in those
early days have the right of giving the names to
new settlements, or at least did not exercise it.
Chaos is the primitive condition in new countries
and it requires time and the strain of many incon
veniences to install the order of civilization.
The many letters to New York and Boston
newspapers made his name well known also along
the Atlantic Coast. His mail was unusually large
as a result. To the mechanic he would say: "Stay
where the factories are, go to work at what you
know best. Farming is not a slipshod undertak
ing. A farmer must know the soil and be able to
till it. Farming is a science, it is an industry that
requires experience, brains, steady habits, a strong
heart ready to meet success without having one's
head turned, able to surmount the uncertainties
that come with weather, drought, and insects, flies
and grasshoppers. A farmer must be studious,
learning every new method and agricultural in
vention and being quick in using them. He must
be sober and never get tired. Don't come to the
western prairies unless you are ready and willing
to labor in sunshine and storm, in failure and suc
cess. The farmer must be an early riser and con
serve nature by going to bed early. If you are
ready to accept all these conditions, come west;

76 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
and there are many more chances of success than
there are dangers of failure."
The Boston Pilot had a large circulation
among the Irish in America. It was extensively
read in Ireland also. It had many readers among
the priests there. Father Donnelly frequently re
ceived letters from the Irish parish priests in rela
tion to homes for their own immediate families
and their parishioners contemplating coming to
America. The result was that a number of the
Irish immigrants of the '50s and '60s took up farms
in Jackson and surrounding counties of Missouri.
Farm land was cheap, and when guided by Father
Donnelly's advice they invariably succeeded. At this
day it is not unusual to find the offspring of those
pioneers in possession of the original farms with
enlarged area, satisfied with conditions and hold
ing sacred the memory of the priest who induced
their fathers and grandfathers to acquire western
homes. Before Father Donnelly retired from In
dependence, many of his countrypeople were suc
cessful businessmen and rich contractors. Many,
very many, Catholics who amassed fortunes in
Kansas City were free to say they owed their start
and their continued success to the advice and some
times the help they received from Father Donnelly,
or through his influence.
From the very day of his arrival all through
his thirty-five years as priest he saw a great future
for Kansas City. When it became the gateway for
the thousands going West to open up a trade with
Mexico by the Santa Fe Trail, when he beheld
armies of fortune-seekers wild with the lust of
gold in far-off California in 1849, and troopers of
the get-rich-quick, leaving farms, machine shops
and banks in the quest of the same rich metal at
Pike's Peak in 1859, when he saw young men from
colleges and universities of Massachusetts and

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 77
New York coming to the Kansas prairies and towns
to grow up and grow great, like Senator Ingalls,
in the West, he would repeat with pleasure his be
lief in the future of his city. "Everyone who passes
through will speak of the natural advantages of
the city geographically. Coming or going, the
western traveler must pass through Kansas City.
The very center of the United States,* by mathe
matical calculation and by the help of the compass,
is within a very few miles of our city. All roads
led to Rome — it was the center of the Old World.
All roads must and do lead to Kansas City, the
geographical center and the coming business cen
ter of our country." Newspapers, magazines and
illustrated journals were writing up Kansas City,
the town that ushers you into the vast plains and
the home of the buffaloes. Every arrival left at
least some money there and joined in the predic
tion that Kansas City had a great future. From
every boat a few would stop off to make their
homes there. Poets and artists would get off the
boats to purchase food and tents for a stay on the
prairies. From Kansas City through Kansas the
vast rolling plains were called prairies. The geog
raphies in the schools and the metropolitan news
papers always said "deserts." There was the great
American desert unfolding itself in gentle undu
lations and rising in altitude until it reached the
grade of 9,000 feet above the ocean, where it lost
its identity in the foothills of the Rocky Moun
tains. The literary invaders to the land of the
cactus and buffalo-grass and sand entered with the
popular idea of the desert. But the popular idea
was unlike the thing itself.
*The geographical center of the United States is on a
farm ten miles north of Smith Center, Kansas.

78 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
The ground was bare and sometimes level,
but frequently diversified with hills and valleys.
Its sandy bareness, except for occasional tufts of
grass that were bristling and brittle, and the ef
fect of sun and cloud, heat and distance, resulted
in a perpetual shifting and varying color. By this
play of air and sky, its primary tones of red, yel
low, blue, dazzling white and dazzling black, were
constantly changing into hazes, transparencies,
lights and shadows of infinite variety and beauty.
It was never monotonous because it was never
twice the same. This was Nature at its very best,
before commerce built its roads of steel from Kan
sas City to the Rockies. This was Nature as the
poet and artist saw it before civilization dotted it
with human habitations and lined it with macadam
and asphalt passways. This was the way Nature
painted its own canvas, stretching from Missouri
to the sublime Rockies. Poets raved over a beauty
and sublimity they never saw before and never
dreamed of. Kansas City was alive to the oppor
tunities of such a scenic display at its very doors.
The literary artist was busy with circulars and
handbooks for the East and South, and for the
professional traveler and hunter from England,
whose vacations up to that time had been spent in
shooting the wild beasts of Asia and Africa. Every
scheme to advertise the promising future of Kansas
City was used by the city council and the citizens.
Mr. C. C. Spaulding, a young newspaperman and
civil engineer, in December, 1857, published a book
of about 150 pages showing the natural advan
tages of Kansas City and giving a short history of
the town and the enterprise of its merchants.
Copies were handed the passengers on steam
boats as they landed at the wharf. The boats
gave ample time for the passengers to view the
city, and when sightseeing was over a sumptuous

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 79
banquet was spread in the hotel on the levee front.
All this kindness and hospitality had its results.
Some of the passersby made investments in real
estate before leaving, others afterwards, and all
remembered and told others of their favorable im
pressions of the city. The stir at the wharf, the
large amounts of incoming and outgoing freight,
the oxen trains on the levee loading and unloading,
all presaged a coming metropolis. The commer
cial standing of Kansas City became a subject dis
cussed from the source of the Missouri down to
St. Louis and off to the far East. Never even in
its many boom days of the '70s and '90s, did Kan
sas City attract such attention. Its growth looked
substantial, new buildings were going up, business
houses increased, and the limits of its city lines
were outgrown.

CHAPTER IX.
CIVIL WAR DAYS AND THE BURIED
TREASURE.

DARK portentous cloud was soon observed
in the east and south. The financial de
pression of 1857 was but a light visita
tion compared with the threatened disrup
tion of the Union of the States. Civil war had
been hinted and seemed imminent. The burning
question of slavery could not be settled in the legis
lative halls at Washington. It was thought for
some time that a compromise had been effected by
the drawing of the Mason and Dixon line. All
south of that line would continue to recognize slav
ery of the colored race. North of that line white
and black would be free citizens. The question of
admitting the Territory of Kansas into the sister
hood of states swelled the slavery issue into a
heated discussion and soon into threats of disunion
and war. A new political party came into exist
ence and made its first appeal for extinction of
slavery in the presidential campaign of 1856. It
was defeated at the polls. Its candidate was Gen
eral Fremont. It was the Abolition Party. Defeat
only aroused a determination to force its principle
by war measures. The new state was to be the
field of contention, no matter what the nature of
that contention. Young and determined "Free
Statesmen" came in numbers from Boston, Brook
lyn and the New England States, and bought lands
and went into the cities of Kansas along the Mis
souri River and built up towns in the interior of
the Territory. They published newspapers and
made speeches in the little settlements, demanding
that slavery be kept out of the coming state.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 81
Strange to say, many of the most ardent advocates
of making Kansas a Free State were people living
in Kansas but natives of Southern states. They
wanted no slaves in the free atmosphere of their
new home. Missouri was for slavery and its
spread. Each side brought forward its most vio
lent if not its ablest orators. Threats followed
intemperate speeches. Violence and bloodshed with
armed invasions into Missouri and back again into
Kansas were frequent. John Brown was driven
from the West. He renewed his efforts of forcibly
wiping out slavery in the State of Virginia. He
was captured by the militia of Virginia and was
hanged. The election of Abraham Lincoln in 1860 was
soon followed by civil war. The whole nation was
paralyzed for four years. Missouri was the seat
of war during all those terrible years. St. Louis
was under martial law and so was Kansas City.
Jackson County from the admission of Kanzas
Territory into the Union of States, and all during
the Civil War, was a storm center for Unionists
and Secessionists. General Ewing's "Order No.
11" devastated nearly all the county from Inde
pendence south, east and west. Many of the in
habitants were ordered south of the Mason and
Dixon line, and many fought with the North and
the South in the armies. The county was almost
depopulated, and Kansas City and Independence
fell off in population. The sale of army supplies
was the only business transacted.
The Battle of Westport was waged from Oc
tober 21st to 23rd, 1864. This made Kansas City
a battlefield. The citizens were divided on the
issues of the day, and were fighting under Gen
erals Price and Curtis during those three days.
Father Donnelly's parishioners and friends were
on both sides. He was personally acquainted with

82 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
the commanders. The first sound of the clash of
arms found him on the battlefield to give his
priestly services wherever needed. He helped as
nurse to bandage the wounds and stanch the blood
of the fallen and helped to carry the stricken to
places of security. He heard confessions and pre
pared the wounded for death, and whispered con
solation to the dying; he removed the dead, and
in the darkness of the night dug trenches in which
to bury them. When Price retreated southward
he directed the removal of the wounded to im
provised hospitals in the deserted buildings in West-
port and Kansas City. For several long weeks he
gave every moment of his time except while say
ing Mass to this work of charity. All business
had ceased and Kansas City seemed deserted ex
cept for the work of physicians and undertakers.
Father Donnelly had been a leader in the days of
Kansas City's progress; now in the night of its
affliction he was its consolation and its closest
friend. People looked to him as to a father. When
angry contention was inflaming men's passions to
war no man could say he took side either way.
Whatever were his sentiments he hid them in the
secrets of his soul. He voted at every election,
but never attended any political meetings during
that time. He saw that war was inevitable. His
constant prayer was that this land of freedom and
happiness would survive the shock of bloody con
flict and emerge a stronger nation and a more
brotherly family. His services at the Battle of
Westport were thanked in the military orders of
the two commanding generals.
On the eve of the Battle of Westport in the
fall of '64 panic was in the air. Sterling Price
of the Confederate Army had won a victory over
the Union troops under Mulligan at Lexington in
September, 1861, and now rumors of his approach

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 83
to attack Kansas City and Westport flew thick and
fast. Before leaving Lexington, it was learned,
Price had seized on the funds in the local banks
and the fear was widespread that he would do the
same thing when he reached Kansas City. There
was a rush on the banks, accounts were checked
out by hundreds of people and the money taken to
their homes and concealed in various places. Then
the thought occurred to many of them that perhaps
their homes would be looted, and they began to
look about for more secure hiding places. At that
time Father Donnelly was Kansas City's "Vicar
of Wakefield," known and trusted by everybody,
Catholics and Protestants alike. He was known
to be an old acquaintance of many of the Confed
erate leaders, and a friend of General Price, per
sonally known and respected by his soldiers as well.
It was known that previous to his coming to Mis
souri, his life, after leaving Ireland, had been spent
largely near the Mason and Dixon line. He had
been an Irish patriot in the homeland, and that
meant a rebel. So the belief grew that Father
Donnelly would be one man that would be immune
from search by the invading army and the one
man who could be trusted to conceal securely the
threatened funds. The afternoon before the Battle
of Westport hundreds of his own countrymen and
church members, as well as a large number of
others, came singly and in twos and threes up
through the trees and ravine adjoining the pastor's
residence and church, bringing money in cans and
jars and purses, and asking Father Donnelly to
take care of it for them until the trouble was over.
They felt certain that Price would not molest him.
They knew that his ministrations as priest would
be in demand for the dying and the wounded of
both armies and that his person and his property

84 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
would be held sacred by even the worst of the
marauders. He often told that he had shrunk at first from
the great responsibility thrust upon him as care
taker of other people's money in those troublous
times, that he tried to convince the people that
war was no respecter of persons when army needs
were pressing, and that a contingency might arise
in which he would be no more immune than the
rest of them. But they would not listen to him.
The women wept and the men pleaded, and he
finally yielded to their wishes. They came like so
many depositors to a bank. He opened up a mem
orandum book. He entered names and amounts.
The darkness of the evening was growing. His
only light was from one small candle which threw
a fitful glimmer around the room. He had been
a schoolmaster before he became a priest and the
methodical habits of his teaching days clung to
him. He wrote out carefully and stopped fre
quently to read over the names, to see if he had
spelled them right. The waiting crowd grew nerv
ous and restless. Price was at the edge of town,
he might be at their doors in a few hours. Many
of the women, anxious to get back to their homes
and little ones, threw their pocketbooks on the
table, simply saying: "Here, Father Donnelly,
there are so many dollars there. Yon know onr
names and where we live. Put it away for us. We
must eret back home."
When the crowd had finallv departed. Father
Donnellv said, there were bundles of monev left
there without any name attached and impossible of
identification bv memorv of the words or faces of
those who left them. The reader may judge what
an unbusinesslike jumble it all was for both priest
and people. But they were in the midst of the

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 85
panic and terror of war and heads were not cool.
It was a choice of saving or losing all, they thought.
When left to himself, Father Donnelly was
shocked by his foolhardiness. A thousand misgiv
ings went through his mind. How would he get
the money out of harm's way? Where would he
find a secure hiding place? Then the thought came
to him: "Dead men rest untouched in the grave
yard; I will bury the people's money in the cem
etery." The cemetery was two blocks west of his
residence on Broadway. It ran along Pennsylvania
Avenue from Twelfth to Eleventh Streets on the
east, and west about 150 feet from what is now
the west line of Jefferson Street. The gravedigger
lived nearby. Carrying the money in a large
wooden box, Father Donnelly went in the black
night to the sexton's home, called him and told him
to get a wheelbarrow, a spade, and a broom. To
gether they entered the graveyard and soon found
a plot of grass growing in a pathway. The sod was
carefully removed and a hole dug in which the box
was buried. Then the sod was replaced and the
loose dirt carefully swept away.
That very night word came to Father Donnelly
that Tom, the old sexton, under the influence of a
few drinks, had divulged the secret to a crowd in
a saloon at Main and Eighth Streets. After a
hurried consultation, four trusty men, armed with
shotguns and led by Father Donnelly, went to the
cemetery, dug up the treasure and buried it anew
back of the little brick church. After the guard
retired the priest began worrying about the secur
ity of his new hiding place, and before daylight
went out alone, with no prying eyes and no one to
be burdened with the temptation of his confidence,
dug up the box a second time and gave it another
burial in a remote spot some distance north of its
second hiding place, pacing the distance between

86 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
them and marking down, as he thought, the accu
rate measurements and landmarks of the new de
pository. The Battle of Westport came on. The three
days that the battle was waged from the Kansas
State line through Westport toward what is now
Swppe Park were busy days for Father Donnelly.
His good offices as priest and nurse were in con
stant demand. The dead and dying filled the homes
all along the countryside adjacent to the battle
ground. When Price retired south the priest re
turned to continue his Samaritan work in the im
provised hospitals of the city. It was fully a
month before he was able to resume his duties in
the church. When he was able to return to his
own house his first thought was of the buried
treasure. It seemed best to him to transfer the box
to his house and call upon the owners to come and
get their money. Taking a spade he went out under
cover of night and dug in the spot where he was
sure the box had been hidden.
An hour's labor brought nothing to light. With
anxious forebodings he went back and measured the
paces he had counted from the angle of the church
and dug again; moved a few feet further and dug
again; then a few feet northward — but there was
no box. Daylight found him still fruitlessly dig
ging. The next night was a repetition of the pre
vious one, followed by the startling conviction that
he had hidden too well or someone had spied too
keenly. The box was never found.
Father Donnelly, when he had abandoned all
hope of recovering the buried money, went to a
friendly banker, made an estimate of the sums that
had been placed in his hands, and borrowed the
money necessary to repay them, giving a mortgage
on some farm lands as security. As the claims
were presented he paid them off.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 87
Ten years afterwards Father Donnelly was
stricken with fever. There was no hospital here
then and no professional nurses. He was cared
for by his aged sister and two nieces in his home,
and the good Sisters of St. Teresa's Academy lent
their aid. One night he seemed much improved
and his relatives and the Sisters felt that he could
pass the night without attendants. He had told
them so and begged them to go to their homes.
Early the next morning the Sisters went to his
door, found it open, and the patient gone. An alarm
was spread and after some time spent in anxious
search the venerable priest was found, in sparse at
tire, digging in the graveyard. In his delirium he
had fancied that the lost treasure had been moved
back to its first hiding place.
Again a few years, and Father Donnelly was
himself carried to the cemetery and like the wooden
box in his enforced trust, some time later he was
taken up and buried in another grave in the base
ment of the then new cathedral, where, "After
life's fitful fever he sleeps well." To the last days
of his life the buried treasure was on his mind. Its
disappearance was a mystery that has never been
explained. Whether in the excitement of the times
he had forgotten the real hiding place, or whether
someone else discovered it and removed the box
during his absence, was never known. If it still
remained in the earth perhaps by this time it has
moldered into dust, or perhaps some digger's spade
ful of earth will yet reveal the secret.

CHAPTER X.
RECONSTRUCTION DAYS.

rANSAS CITY seemed for a while to have
lost its very life. Many of its citizens were
wounded, dying, or dead, or still fighting
in the closing days of the war. Peace
brought home the soldiers of the North and the
South. Angry feelings soon subsided. An old
ambition was revived, an old rivalry was aroused,
the cry of peaceful days was taken up and went
from mouth to mouth : "Let us make Kansas City
a great city!" Meetings were called. The object
was Kansas City's good. Father Donnelly could
be seen at every meeting. He joined in the dis
cussions and cordially seconded every good
scheme. Kansas City's population of from six to
eight thousands before the war was down now in
the hundreds. The rival cities all had suffered
from the war, but none so much as Kansas City.
War had entered Kansas City's gates — the other
cities only felt its shock. Every city on the north
turn of the Missouri River was striving for the
same result — supremacy on its banks. Kansas
City held that position before war days. She had
been the Gate of Entry. Supremacy now would be
long to the first city bringing an eastern railroad
into its limits and then forcing that railroad over
the river to the mountains and to the Pacific
Ocean. Railroads were becoming the means of
travel and the way of transportation — quick transit
for man and freight. Steamboats were slow in
comparison. Kansas City business men — there
were no capitalists then nearer than St. Louis, New
York or Boston — had lost their savings of years of
industry; the few men who had valuable property

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 89
had lost it or could hardly be called owners be
cause of mortgages and taxes. St. Joseph still held
its solid citizens. Atchison was ambitious for as
cendency and was backed by aspiring, eastern-
spirited people in Kansas. Leavenworth was the
trading post for the army and wealth increased
there during the war because of the government's
fort and its patronage. Weston was a steady town
secured by its judicious, saving German citizens.
"A bridge across the river," was the slogan. Meet
ings were held in all these towns and after much
enthusiasm adjourned to create further sentiment
and to reach the approval and help of everyone in
the respective neighborhoods. Kansas City was
just breathing — resuscitation had hardly taken
place. Eastern newspapers were joking about the
fight of the Missouri River towns to build a bridge.
Kansas City's name was never mentioned among
the rivals.
On winter nights in 1867, Father Donnelly used
to relate, a few old chums would frequently meet
in the back room of the little rented Postoffice
near the river, to laugh and joke over the contest
for the bridge in other cities, doing their usual
guessing and well wishing. As the pleasantries
subsided one of those present cried out: "What
about Kansas City's getting into the fight?" A
guffaw laugh followed. Then an interchange of
hospitality. Then the question was renewed. The
fun in the question gradually abated. Kansas
City's contempt for its northern neighbors and
rivals seemed to grow in the little gathering. No
arguments followed. Kansas City in the past when
it meant anything never thought of discussion —
it simply saw and did the thing. "We can get all
the money needed; we are not poor. Our banks
will back up their customers. Let us get going."
Checks were drawn out. Everyone present was

90 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
a committee to arouse the bankers. Horses were
mounted and every man with money within a
radius of ten miles was ordered out of bed. When
the second morning cast its light, reports were
nearly all handed in at the rendezvous. The
bankers accepted the checks and drew up orders
on their eastern correspondents. The amount de
manded to insure the bridge was on hand. Before
noon four of Kansas City's enterprising citizens
had started for the nearest railroad, miles east.
When they presented themselves in the general
office of the railroad interests away off in Boston
they handed their certified checks from Kansas City
banks to the capitalists who owned the North Mis
souri Railroad, now the Wabash Railroad. Those
checks were large enough to justify bringing the
railroad from Cameron Junction to what is now
North Kansas City, then Harlem, and to meet the
bonus for the bridge. On July 4th, 1869, the com
pletion of the bridge was celebrated. St. Louis
sent two dozen cars crowded with its best citizens,
headed by the mayor and common council. The
best of feeling was exhibited by the rival river
cities in the hundreds of people present from St.
Joseph, Weston, Atchison and Leavenworth. Kan
sas City's supremacy was admitted and Kansas
City's hospitality was in keeping with its conquer
ing greatness. Father Donnelly spent days on horseback
soliciting additional subscriptions for the bridge
among his old neighbors in Jackson County. On
the day of the celebration he figured on the vari
ous committees. War was over, its rancour had
dissipated, Kansas City was established as a fix
ture. No man was happier than the patriotic
priest. Colonel Van Horn, owner and editor of the
Kansas City Journal and one of Kansas City's best

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 91
and most loyal citizens, is authority for the state
ment that Kansas City had fallen in population
from 6000 to less than 1000 in 1865. The United
States census of 1870 showed it a city of 32,000.
Its growth went on.
The failure of Jay Cook in 1873 brought on a
commercial collapse that passed from Boston and
New York to San Francisco. Kansas City scarcely
felt the shock. Three of its strongest local banks
failed in 1874 and 1875. Grasshoppers swept the
state of Kansas, its tributary and mainstay, of
every blade of grass and every vestige of corn,
wheat, oats and vegetables in 1874. A dishonesty
in the city's finances amounting to some hundreds
of thousands of dollars forced an issue of script
that was accepted outside the city at less than
twenty cents on the dollar. Inside of one year it
was everywhere accepted at its face value. Three
wild real estate booms brought their natural result.
Yet Kansas City grew and its population in 1880
was more than fifty thousand.

CHAPTER XI.
FATHER DONNELLY A MISSIONARY.

fi

'ATHER DONNELLY was resident pastor
of Independence from 1845 to 1857. His
headquarters and his home were there.
His assignment was not confined to the
little village of the Kaw — Kaw Town, or the town
of Kanzas. He was instructed to traverse at
least once a year all that part of southwest Mis
souri from Kansas on the west to the lines of the
Lexington parish on the east, and south to the
Arkansas state line. As the reader stops in amaze
ment at the little world Father Donnelly was to
traverse, it should not be overlooked that this is
the same Father Donnelly who a few days before
he came to this expansive charge made his first
trial at horseback riding on his way from St. Louis
to Old Mines. The reverend Father was not an
enthusiastic youth full of dreams of sure victory
and impossible defeat. "There lies my mission,"
sprang to his mind, but the poetic temperament, if
ever his, was not his to make conclusion with "and
I'll make it a garden of ease and pleasure." The
new pastor had bade farewell to more than forty
years of a struggling life. When he painted a
dream picture he went to the realistic style. Here
was a field of labor covering over 20,000 square
miles. The examples of early missionaries in the
Illinois country, along the lakes and in the far
Northwest, and along the Missouri River and south
into Texas, were indeed encouraging. "If those
could do such deeds why cannot I?" The real red-
blooded Irishman never takes a dare and when the
seasons favorable for traveling came Father Don
nelly was on his Indian pony. He had mastered

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 93
the horse as he had mastered many an awkward and
stubborn difficulty. Three different times in his
twelve years at Independence he went southeast
and west wherever he knew there was a Catholic
and where he thought he could add to the Church by
a conversion. He touched every excuse of a town
in his demense — there was not a single hamlet big
enough to be called a town, by the people, much
less to be entitled to the name by a legislative re
quirement. A number of the Catholics he found
here and there were cold in faith as in practice.
Others had intermarried with non-Catholics and had
joined some of the sects. He preached and said
Mass in school houses, very few and far between,
then, in Missouri. On more than one occasion he
spoke to the "natives"- — a popular name and a
cherished one — in their little rude churches when
their own religious services were over for the Sun
day. Although the times were rife with the pre
judices and hatred against "Romanism" consequent
on the nation-wide spread of "Knownothingism,"
Father Donnelly was happy to say that he received
an attentive reception wherever he lectured. In In
dependence, also, he attended the civic and even
know-nothing meetings and took part in the discus
sions. The kindness he experienced made him ever
afterwards extol the American sense of fairplay.
He studied the real American character and
became convinced it compared favorably with the
best he found in the people from other countries.
They were innocent of the world's worst. Their
lives were simple. Existence was a struggle. They
were illiterate because there were no schools in
the East and South where they sprang from —
there were no books. The farms they entered were
small and scarcely productive. Their methods of
farming were crude in the extreme. The lethargy
of the hot South was embedded in their every fiber.

94 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
They were devoid of ambition, they could not go
higher and they never dreamed of improving their
condition. They seemed to have no red blood in
their veins ; their blood was poisoned by the miasma
from swamps and upturning of hitherto untouched
soil; their faces were thin and pale. They were a
race of new aborigines in that they had the wan
dering spirit and the listlessness of the Indian.
They had his readiness to resent an injury or an
insult, they had his long-sightedness and quickness
of vision ; they could bring down the fleetest bird
and would face the fiercest animal that prowled
the sandy plains or rugged mountains. The pass
ing stranger was ever welcome to their frugal meal
and invited to partake of their hospitality.
The visits Father Donnelly made these people
resulted in a few conversions, and he felt his time
well spent as he recorded that some fallen-away
Catholics and their families came back to the Faith.
During his absence from Independence his kind
friends and predecessors on the mission at Kansas
City and Independence, the Jesuit Fathers who
were in attendance along the Missouri from St.
Louis, looked after his parish.
He had just made his third tour, in 1851, to
the south and east missions when he remembered
a long-promised visit he owed his old friend Father
Hammil at Lexington. Before going to his friend's
home he stopped at the village hotel to secure stable
and feed for his horse. The weather was intensely
cold. The cheerful fire in the hotel office invited
him to take the chill out of hands and feet and
body. The office was filled with men who were
listening with close attention to a man who was
telling about a marriage ceremony he had wit
nessed a few days before in a Catholic church at
Independence. The richest man perhaps west of
St. Louis was married by the priest of Independ-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 95
ence to a young lady named Ann Eliza Keane,
scarcely seventeen years of age. The groom was
fully eighty years old. The news was so unex
pected and the event seemed so unusual that men
expressed their doubts and thought the narrator
was just making up as he went along. "But, I tell
you," the man would say, "I was there, I saw it,
and I saw the old gray-headed priest of Independ
ence performing the ceremony." Father Donnelly
was the priest of Independence and he was gray-
headed, but he knew there must be a mistake for
he had not performed that ceremony, he had not
been at Independence for nearly six weeks. He
could no longer restrain himself, and in loud tones
interrupted the speaker: "I am the priest of Inde
pendence and I know nothing about such an occur
rence." "I don't care who you are, my dear sir,
I assure you I saw it all as I have said. I know
Mr. Jabez B. Smith and I am acquainted with the
bride and her family." It was too much for Father
Donnelly. He forgot all about his contemplated
visit and went at once to the stable where he de
layed just long enough to give his poor pony time
to finish his oats and hay. He then turned the
horse towards Independence. "Jabez Smith, my
parishioner and old friend, married to that dear
little child of my flock? Impossible! Not to be
believed!" When late the next day he reached
Independence, he did not have to inquire; people
stopped in the street to tell him about the mar
riage. It was a surprise that made people forget
all the gossip and all the news of the day. He
was told that Father Murphy, the pastor of St.
Joseph, Missouri, had been telegraphed for and
came to perform the ceremony. The newspaper
stories about the marriage were lying on his desk.
"And that both parties should have kept the mar
riage a secret from me!" If often happens that

96 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
the hardest part of a bad story is kept for the end
of the narrative. Father Donnelly had to hear the
same finale from every narrator: "And just to
think of it, Father Donnelly, Mr. J. Smith gave
the stranger priest one hundred dollars !" "Did the
St. Joseph priest leave that money here for me?"
he inquired from his domestic. "Why, no, Father;
he showed it to everyone; it was one hundred dol
lars in twenty-dollar gold pieces."
Time cures many wounds, but not in this in
stance. The pain rankled in his breast twenty
years afterwards as he would recount the affair.
One hundred dollars seems today a trifle to worry
about. But in 1851 one hundred dollars in gold
was equal to a thousand dollars in bank notes and
in purchasing value. The money the laborer, the
mechanic and the merchant handled was known as
wild cat currency and was issued by the banks. It
was worth its face value one day and the next day
the failure of the bank that issued it made it
worthless. Every little town had a bank or two,
and the banks, to the extent of the subscribed and
sometimes paid-up stock, sent forth paper bills
frequently greater in amounts than the banks had
stock or cash or credit. The result was bank col
lapses every little while. To protect themselves in
handling the paper currency the merchants sub
scribed for and had on their desks a paper called
the Director, published every week in the larger
cities and containing the names of the banks fail
ing over the country. Father Donnelly had filed
away a number of paper bills which he had ac
cepted during those days. On their face they
amounted to several hundred dollars; in fact, they
were valueless. Now comes an opportunity to be
enriched with $100 in real money; but he was
away from home. Another clergyman had bene
fited by the absence. When Father Donnelly wrote

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 97
him to return the money, the answer came, "The
laborer is worthy of his hire. The distance back
and forth to perform the ceremony, and many other
inconveniences, were well worth the offering." "I
was then a priest about six years," Father Donnelly
related in after years, "and all I ever received on
occasions of baptism and marriages, if all added
up, would hardly total $100 in currency, much less
in gold."

CHAPTER XII.
CATHOLIC BEGINNINGS AT KANSAS CITY.

"H^fc^HE title of Resident Pastor was given
d C\ Father Donnelly on the day of his ordina-
^~J tion when he was assigned to Independ-
^^^ ence. The title was a recognition of the
advance of the church on the west boundary of
the St. Louis diocese. Father Le Roux could
hardly be named a resident pastor, for that would
suggest a residence and a fixed class of parish
ioners. While at the Kaw he lived with the
Chouteau family and spent some time at the Chou
teau agencies in the Territory. The Catholics near
the Kaw when Father Le Roux arrived were Cana
dians who had come from Trois Rivieres in Canada
and who claimed Canada for their country and
home, who came as laboring men in the employ
of the American, the United States, and the Astor
Trapping and Fur Companies. Numbers of them
came to the Kaw. Few of them were married and
even those few did not stay long. They were river
wanderers. The small per cent who continued here
were restless and indifferent to future develop
ment. Some bought farms in the west bottoms,
but nearly all lost them in the flood of 1844. The
Canadian Catholics who purchased property along
the bluffs overlooking the Missouri River had In
dian blood in their veins or were married to Indian
women. They could not, they would not, build church,
schools, or support a pastor. The Chouteaus were
western Astors on a small scale. St. Louis was
their business center, and their warehouses were
nearby, first at Chouteau Landing, east of the site
of Kansas City, then on the Levee, then in the Ter
ritory. You could trace them, for they gave their

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 99
name to every post and new place they located.
They were good business men and at least their
wives were good practical Catholics. Their home
was always open to the priest and their gratuities
made life bearable for the missionaries. The writer
sang the Mass and preached at the funeral of the
original Mrs. Chouteau.
To the Catholic Banner Father Donnelly on
March 7th, 1878, wrote the following letter:
"We are not to suppose that Kansas City when
first founded could be embellished by fine speci
mens of superb architecture; the humble log cabin
alone afforded shelter and security to its primitive
inhabitants. The axe, the hammer and the augur
were almost the only building implements in use.
The hardy hunters, with their wives, found the
Chouteau trading post a convenient market for
their furs and peltry. Many of them settled down
in the neighborhood and formed with their fam
ilies the first Christian congregation on the site of
Kansas City. About the year 1834 the Reverend
Benedict Le Roux, a pious and learned French
priest, was sent from St. Louis as pastor of the
half-breed congregation at Kansas City. During
his stay a contract was made with the late James
Magee — the father of all the Magees — to build a
log church and parsonage. "Parsonage" was a mis
nomer. It was never large enough or conveniently
enough arranged to be an abode or residence, in any
sense, for a priest. No one ever thought of even
finding a night's lodging inside its confined walls.
Why, people tell me that I lived there; they call
it Father Donnelly's first parsonage. I have to
hear this and sometimes read it in the papers, but
I grew tired long ago denying it. It was even a
poor shelter in a storm. So-called historians of the
early days persist in saying the passing Jesuit mis
sionaries, and I, in my time, lived there. Whenever

100 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
I remained here over night from my residence in
Independence, and when the Jesuits were here for
a stay, we always made our home with the Chou
teau and Guinotte families. Father Le Roux built
the lodge or resting house as well as the log church.
The brick in the chimneys of both church and lodge
are said to be the first ever manufactured in Kan
sas City." He then mentions the names of passing church
dignitaries who visited Kansas City and Independ
ence in the early days, names which are given in
another part of this volume, after which he pre
sents to the readers of the Catholic Banner the
Right Reverend Bishop Barron, at that time help
ing Bishop Kenrick in his large diocese. This
diocese extended from the Mississippi River, taking
in almost all Upper Louisiana. About the Right
Reverend John Barron, Bishop of Liberia, he says:
"He stayed a month between Kansas City and In
dependence, awaiting the arrival of Father Ver-
reydt, S. J., on his way to the Pottawatomie Mis
sion. Bishop Barron accompanied him to the mis
sion and returned to Kansas City on the last day
of the year 1845. On the first day of January,
1846, I came to Kansas City to see the Bishop.
He asked me to take a walk. The day was fine.
The Bishop spoke with enthusiasm of the Indian
country, describing it as the finest land in the
world. We proceeded through the woods to the
edge of the bluffs west of Colonel Coates' present
mansion. Whilst looking to the west he raised
both hands above his head and exclaimed: 'No
government on earth can much longer deter the
whites from entering that Territory! It is the
most beautiful country in the whole world. In
ten years the government will be compelled to pass
an act opening that country to white settlers.
When that event takes place (turning his face

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 101
to the east) you shall have an immense city around
here.' The act opening Kansas was passed in 1856,
just ten years afterwards, and now (in 1878) the
immense city is actually here !
"How did it happen that Kanzas Town had
such an attraction for travelers of all professions?
For clergy, traders, trappers, and explorers? The
answer seems to be, the facilities of travel ren
dered by the great rivers as far west as the mouth
of the Kaw. The railroads lately constructed fol
low the same line, and like the rivers, they diverge
in many directions, making Kansas City a natural
center; and thus has the prophecy uttered by
Bishop Barron thirty-three years ago been ful
filled." The Santa Fe trade, not the influx from Can
ada, was the making of Kansas City. No one
realized this so quickly as Bishop Kenrick. His
first visit to the church at the Kaw found no priest
awaiting him. Likely it was not the Sunday for
the ministrations here of the Jesuit missionaries
in the Territory. The Bishop advertised his pres
ence, baptized some babies and older children in
the log church, leaving the names of those baptized
to be "entered in the church registers at West-
port." There was no church at Westport and there
were no registers kept there. The paper on which
the bishop wrote the names of the newly baptized
looks like the flyleaf torn from an account book.
It is interesting to know that this leaf is at St.
Mary's Mission, and the entries made in the only
register of those days, the one kept by the Jesuit
Fathers. There never was a church at Westport
until Father Donnelly in 1866, out of his own
pocket, purchased from Mr. Jowel Bernard a site
with an old-fashioned southern home. The Annual
Church Directory published by Lucas at Phila
delphia was placing churches in the St. Louis dio-

102 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
cese that Bishop Kenrick was unable to locate in
this first trip to the Kaw or indeed ever after
wards. In two of the published letters of Father Le
Roux there is strong evidence that the good Father
could dream of what was coming. But a Jesuit
Father while at the Kaw dreamt of what was
really taking place. He tells of the daily and Sun
day services, how the people attended, how they
gladly formed themselves into sodalities and con
fraternities, how they became choir members and
strung out in processions, how confessions and
communions grew weekly in numbers. Where did
these people come from to justify or make pos
sible sodalities and confraternities? The zeal of
this good Father was beyond bounds and so were
his dreams. If the piety he described ever existed
here it was never witnessed by any other priest,
and must have disappeared with the priest who
recorded it. But "memory" is a very peculiar
thing. Father Ponziglione, a Jesuit Father at
Osage Mission, wrote in the early nineties (1893)
that he recalled a stately church at Westport in
which he frequently said Mass. It must have been
a fairy church, for it vanished away, leaving no
marks upon the real estate records at the county
seat, and no recollections in the memory of such
persons as Mr. and Mrs. Dillon, or the early set
tlers of Westport surviving in the nineties. Mrs.
Dillon was the first white girl born in the vicinity
of Westport. Besides, if Lucas Brothers' Church
Directory is trustworthy in its date, Father Pon
ziglione was in Cincinnati in the year 1849. He
came to the Territory in 1851. Father Donnelly,
who was here for six years previous and rode to
Westport now and then, often mentioned the
graphic description of how piety flourished under
the short administration of the passing missionary

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 103
above referred to. "The Reverend Father," he
said, "was gifted in many ways : he was very pious
and rather inclined to dreams. I never found any
traces of his mission services here, and for his
civil engineering and map drawing, his imagination
and not the scene before him, nor his training in
that science, supplied the sketch." The Jesuit
Father heralded his dreams broadcast through
Catholic papers in New York and Philadelphia.
A little while after Bishop Kenrick's visit, he
sent Bishop Barron over the diocese to confirm and
to report the needs of the Church. It is signifi
cant that after doing what he was sent to do at
Kansas City, Bishop Barron went to the Jesuits
and requested them to look after Kansas City.
Father Verreydt without delay renewed his work
here. The probability is the Jesuits were finding
their labors at home with the Pottawatomie tribes
and the Indians at Kickapoo too taxing for their
periodical visits to Kansas City.

CHAPTER XIII.
LETTERS TO THE CATHOLIC BANNER-
FIRST MISSIONARY VENTURES.

er

'DITOR Catholic Banner: I promised you
in a communication of April last to give
your readers a map of the missions at
tached to Independence in my letter of
appointment. Your request naturally comes from
a desire to know just what was the territory I had
to cover. It is interesting to your readers and to
all young priests to be informed what was de
manded of a priest in 1845.
The Bishop's letter of appointment read as
follows: "You are hereby appointed resident pas
tor of Independence, Missouri. From Independ
ence you will at close intervals say Mass and hear
confessions at Kaw-town on the Missouri River
near the Kaw River. All Jackson County and
every county immediately south of Jackson and
east of the Territory to the north line of Arkansas,
will be your southwest limit ; then eastward ; your
northern line of labor will embrace Henry County
and every county south of Henry to the north line
of Arkansas. While you are on this missionary
tour be sure to write the Jesuit Fathers in charge
of the Pottawatomie Indians to say Mass and hear
confessions and attend sick calls in Jackson County."
Instead, I secured the services of priest from the St.
Louis College, who frequently came up as far as
Lexington. I give you the boundary lines within which I
was to labor. Since I am a civil engineer and
map maker I could send you a map as you re
quested, but reproducing a map on newspaper

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 105
pages is neither an easy nor a good looking job.
My first trip south and east to the north line of
Arkansas was started immediately after Pentecost,
1847. I left Independence with a very thorough
map of the country I was entering drawn up by a
competent surveyor and engineer in the U. S.
service named Louis T. Craddock. He was a friend
and neighbor who lived near me in Independence.
His present was a map of large proportions, most
complete in details, with rivers, streams and ele
vations, and marked with the easiest roads for
travel. As he had on more than one occasion
traveled in his official character through my mis
sions and had formed many acquaintances, he
knew hotel and tavern and hospitable farmers
through the territory. He was a Catholic and
made it a point to reach Catholics and encourage
them in their seldom-attended country.
The greatest difficulties of this first entrance
into my mission land were removed by the kind
ness of my friend. My compass stood me in good
service. My observing neighbors had frequently
told me that my horsemanship had improved won
derfully. The Jesuit Fathers who never tired giv
ing me practical suggestions for missionary life ad
vised me shortly after my arrival here to buy an
Indian pony. It was sure-footed, not easily
frightened by snake or wild beast, could climb like
a goat, and endure heat and storm and long fast
ing like a camel. Besides and best of all the
Indian pony was native to the soil. He seemed to
know everyone and everything on the journey —
like the Indian he never noticed anything or any
body provided he was let alone. His speed was
an easy lope, but for a little while at a time he
would hasten his pace. He never grew lame and
never showed fatigue. In my knapsacks, hanging
from the back of the pony and down his sides, I

106 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
had three heavy Indian blankets, a few pounds of
coffee, some sugar and hard army crackers, my
breviaries, chasuble, with all other requirements
for Mass and altar. I found room for a water
proof coat and two changes of underwear. I
started out under a clear sky and found a com
fortable bed that night. The second day began
propitiously, but about noon a storm broke over
me. The rain lasted all day and night. In the
darkness I missed my bearings and soon discovered
I was off the road. Fortunately I had wandered
towards a stone formation and was out of the mud.
With the light made by my flint and steel I saw a
large stone ledge fully two feet high and under
the circumstances ideal for a bed. I covered my
pony with one of the blankets and the other two
I used for a soft cover over the large rock and for
warmth and protection from the rain. I slept well
and was up and on my journey early in the morn
ing. I soon found my trail and before nine o'clock
came up to a stream of clear water fringed on
both sides by trees. Here I prepared my coffee
and ate my first missionary breakfast. During the
next few hours I caught up with two men well ac
quainted with the country and many of its peo
ple. We were in Cass County. My traveling com
panions were from Kentucky but were then liv
ing in Missouri and were dealers in real estate, we
call it now — it was then just buying and selling
farms. They kindly directed me to a Catholic
family living about where Harrisonville is. The
family were all Catholic, born in Ireland, and had
been two years "drifting," as they said, from New
Orleans to their present home. They were on a
small farm and living in a comfortable farmhouse.
They had two neighbors a few miles south who
were Catholics, too. They begged me to stay with
them until they could bring their neighbors, and

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 107
then would I be good enough to say Mass and give
them the benefits of the Sacraments. I surely
would. I was favorably disappointed in finding
Catholics so soon. Mass was said and the Sacra
ments approached. The terrors of the long jour
ney ahead of me began to leave me.
My host and his Catholic neighbors had wan
dered considerably coming here and had hunted
far south of their homes in search of birds for
their tables. Fresh meat was out of the question.
Why, even in Independence, it was pork dried,
pork salted, week in and week out. A farmer
would notify us that he was about to kill and
butcher a heifer or cow, and how many pounds
and what parts of the carcass would we buy?
Fresh meat was purchased by the hotels at the
levee from steamboats, but after seven or eight
days of river travel the meat needed the immediate
care of ice, and ice formed here in winter, then
melted. During my part of a two days' stay I
feasted on prairie chicken and delicious birds
peculiar to the country. My three Catholic friends
insisted on accompanying me through Bates and
Vernon counties where they were not only com
panions and guides, but where they brought me to
three Catholic families and succeeded in locating
four more, making in all ten families, and with
their own three families thirteen altogether. I
performed the Divine Services twice in Bates and
twice in Vernon counties. After the return of my
friends to their homes the sunlight seemed to de
part. I was not lonesome, for I was a student of
nature. I would dismount from my pony to ex
amine loess as I saw it change from stone com
position to a black, productive soil. I had studied
rock, I carried with me the geologist's hammer.
The trees were interesting in themselves. They
were of hard bark and were in some instances

108 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
called iron — an appropriate name, for the presence
of such trees told of iron, lead and other valuable
deposits. I had no Catholics to engage my mind
and time, so, the Earth, and especially this part of
it, occupied me.
In Vernon County (near Nevada of today) in
following my friend Mr. Craddock's directions, I
found an Irishman named Donnelly. His wife was
not a Catholic but had been taking instructions in
the Catechism. She was instructed and well, dis
posed, and so for the first time in my mission trip
I administered the sacrament of baptism. On the
expectation of finding more Catholics nearby I re
mained under the hospitable roof of my namesake
for three days. He and I scoured the country
around and brought back with us a German Catho
lic named Latmer and a Kentuckian named Hawkes.
Their families were all Catnolics and were at
Mass on my third day's stay. A John Fagan
added one more to our audience. As fortune had
it there was a public meeting in a large square or
clearing near a Protestant church to which every
body was invited. This church was a typical
country church of olden times and faced the coun
try road. The preacher and myself met the first
day I was there and became friendly. He told me
of the coming meeting and invited me to be present
and to say something. I promised to do so. The
object of the meeting was to work up a site for a
coming town. The attendance filled the church.
Two of the prominent speakers failed to attend.
The preacher and myself were the only orators on
hand. "There must be four speakers," said the
preacher. "You'll talk two times and I'll talk two
times. You see we must give the people all we
promised." When three speeches were delivered
all was said that could be said regarding the ad
visability of starting a town and how to go about

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 109
it. So when it came my second turn I told them
that a real true speciman of a Roman priest stood
before them. "Look for the horns, you won't dis
cover any hoof. You'll see in me a real out and out
American citizen. Now," I said, "you find the
Catholic priest human like yourselves, and I'll pass
on to tell you what I, a priest, and every other
priest preaches." I stopped after fully three-
quarters of an hour, but there was a universal and
emphatic demand to "go on, go on." I did so.
When I concluded the preacher said, "I wish our
friend, this good priest, would give us a talk in
this church tomorrow afternoon. Tell us about the
Pope." The crowd voted in favor of another
speech and on the Pope. I felt that some pre
judice, at least, might be removed, so I gave the
talk about the Pope. Those people lived scattered
around for miles, but they were on hand next day.
They gave me the closest attention and a vote of
thanks. On my arrival at home I found a letter
from the preacher who told me he had thought over
my speeches, had studied the Catechism, and
would like more Catholic literature. I sent him
the literature. One year afterwards he called on
me and entered the ranks of the church. He was
baptized, for he assured me that preacher though
he was he had never received the sacrament of
baptism. On my third and last trip on mission I called
again to find a new clergyman in charge, who in
vited me to stop over on Sunday and take charge
of his pulpit, as he wanted to visit friends down
in Arkansas. I did so and the people saw for the
first time Holy Mass and heard another Catholic
sermon. This time my subject was the Mass.
My first tour followed the tier of counties from
Jackson in a direct line to what is now McDonald
County. I returned by the counties immediately

110 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
east. My return was devoid of the interesting
features of the trip south. The Catholics were
fewer and the scenery less diversified. I found
traces here and there of the work of the Lazarist
Fathers through those parts. At four places they
spent some days preaching to the natives. A dis
tant relative of the Hayden family at the Barrens
told me that the Fathers were anything but en
couraged by their efforts in the counties they
visited. I heard eight confessions, baptized two
infants, prepared an aged sick man for death.
This was the result of my first returning visit. The
two other missionary trips were almost devoid of
results. I saw few Indians on my tours, and no
uncivilized ones.
But I saw a wonderful country, fertile and
rolling. People in search of healthful and pro
ductive localities will surely come here and in num
bers. I have often heard of the wonderful scenic
beauties and grandeur of the mountain countries
along the range of the Rockies. I doubt if there
is anything in the far west more beautiful, more
picturesque, than parts of the Ozark range through
which I drove. The mountains of the far West are
awe-inspiring, but the Ozark range places before
you pictures unequaled for diversity. The cascades,
the streams of clear, cool water, traverse the moun
tain sides and going down into the valleys give a
vitality to the soil. I have never seen even in Ire
land grass so green and in such abundance. Like
Ireland, the Ozark country has its tales of valorous
deeds of an ancient people who fought every in
vading tribe. The Spanish adventurers occupied
for years all that portion of Missouri. They were
not there for health, nor for love of Nature's
charming scenery. It was not the unsurpassed
fishing and hunting and trading with the Indians
that brought them and held them there. Long

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 111
years before gold deposits were discovered and the
famous Phillebert Mine was located. Silver mines
were opened and operated by the Spaniards. Phil
lebert was one of a family who were among the
earliest settlers of St. Louis. He left St. Louis to
kill wild animals and birds and Indians almost
immediately after his arrival. He had a business
eye as well as an adventurous soul. He established
a trading post near the point where the James
River empties into the White River. He was
adopted by the Delawares and went with them into
the Ozarks. From the Indians it is supposed
Phillebert learned of the mines called for him.
The location of these mines was held secret from
his very family. He would frequently leave home
for long intervals and always returned with a large
quantity of silver. His silver is classified as "horn
silver."* I feel sure there is wealth in abundance
in the specimens of stone I have seen. But the
stone I saw in the neighborhood of some easy
ascending grades (in Carthage) will prove the
very finest building material. It is almost as white
as the famed Carrara marble in Italy.
I have already drawn too largely on your
columns and on the patience of your readers. My
three missionary journeys were not prolific of
much spiritual good. There was no growth of
population from my first to my third visits. The
Mexican War had sent people out of my south
western territory rather than brought any increase.
I met General Kearney and his troops on their way
to the Rio Grande, also Colonel Donaldson, my
friend, who led the Missouri regiment. It was a
great pleasure to me to shake the hand of General
*Horn silver is the chloride, which when pure is 75.3
per cent silver. It occurs in hornlike masses, of a grayish
color, turning black on exposure to light. It is so soft it
can be cut with a knife.

112 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
Shields on his way to war. I spent a night and a
day in his tent over two hundred miles south of
my home at Independence. The general and a
goodly number of his command approached the
Sacraments during my stay with him. My third
and last long southern mission ended in a finan
cial disaster — I missed the honor and felt the loss
of the donation given by Mr. Jabez Smith on the
occasion of his second marriage at Independence.
Kansas City and Independence advanced in
population and in importance as a consequence of
the Mexican War. Today there are priests and
parishes in many places not then on the map in
southwest Missouri. Springfield, Rolla, Joplin and
Carthage had no existence in the '40s and early
'50s. Mark my prophecy, a bishop will soon rule
all that country and his see will be in Kansas City.
As I often said to you, there will be a bishop yet
in Wyandotte. There were never any prophets in
our family; they were always too busy trying to
live in the present and trying to forget the past,
to give a thought to what the future might bring
forth. I may have some more recollections for
the good Banner very soon. Bernard Donnelly.
the drake constitution.
Editor Catholic Banner:
Perhaps we old-fashioned missionaries and our
pioneer flocks and neighbors did not make much
history. Well, we went through some live eras of
development. The state motto of Kansas covers
the history of life in the new West from the
twenties and thirties up to the year of Grace, 1879.
How proudly and truthfully our western neighbors
describe life out here: "Per Aspera ad Astra." In
every new country people suffer for want of life's
comforts and sometimes life's necessities. In other

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 113
districts east of the Mississippi the first settlers
and the builders of the present civilization carry
in their systems the poison of miasma common to
new countries. So do we — we grew thin and weak
and sallow from ague and swamp fever, and weak
and nervous from the overdosing of quinine, ipecac,
tincture of silver and other medicines administered
to destroy the effects of the exhalations of the
swamps and new-tossed earth.
Life is more than a venture in a newly touched
country. On the border line of Kansas and Mis
souri the air and the soil, the insects and the wild
beasts and the Indians might be endured, avoided
or made innocuous. The new country furnished
hardship enough. But the civilization from Boston
and south of the Mason and Dixon Line was forc
ing on us the curse of civil war. "Slavery must
be abolished," cried Wendell Phillips and Henry
Ward Beecher. "Slavery shall not be abolished,"
cried back Senator Haynes and Jefferson Davis
from south of the Mason and Dixon Line. "We'll
fight, and even die, for our principles," said both
North and South. And for years before the clash
of the Civil War they did fight and made battle
fields in Jackson County and the Kanzas Territory.
The four years of conflict never gave this county
a day's respite. Everywhere else the war closed
at the surrender of General Lee at Appomattox.
Not so in Missouri. Our state was a battlefield for
the four years of carnage between North and South.
The soldiers from both sides returned to Missouri
when the Union troops were reviewed by President
Johnson and his cabinet at Washington and when
the army of Jefferson Davis was disbanded. Peace
came back with the veterans of four years. But
it was the peace which meant that the roaring of
cannon had ceased and that drilled men were not
marching against each other in battle array. The

114 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
rancour that brought on the war had not died out.
The boys of the blue and the gray were working
on their farms and at their avocations again, but
the marplot was busy. Perhaps he had not fought
in the war days. The Southern cause had been
beaten to defeat and surrender. The screws of
revenge had to be tightened. The political states
men who had lost neither life nor limb, but who
had grown rich and fallen in love with power of
office, saw a scheme for holding on to what he had
acquired and adding to it. Missouri needed a new
constitution. Judge Drake and many other good
haters knew just how to draft a constitution that
would give play to their ambition and the power
to humble their beaten ex-Confederate neighbors
by depriving them of the right of franchise. The
old know-nothing bigotry would have a chance to
injure a church, known as Catholic, but in their
vocabulary "Romish." They soon drew up a new
constitution and handed it to the voters for adop
tion. There was little time wasted in formulating
into the document all the cunning, hatred and in
justice necessary for their purpose. Some of the
most vicious and vindictive of the designers and
drafters of the new constitution crushing out free
dom of thought even in the right of franchise, were
foreigners barely able to speak and understand our
language, men who rose up against Fatherland in
order to gain for themselves what they were now
denying native Americans who allowed them to
live when defeat drove them from home.
An exasperating scrutiny and the refusal in
thousands of instances to accept votes against the
adoption, besides a public disfranchisement of loyal
native citizens, made an easy victory for the new
constitution. It was called the Drake Constitution
for the man who inspired it. All professional men
were barred their calling if they refused to take

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 115
an oath of loyalty. Ministers of the Gospel could
not preach until they subscribed to the oath. A
citizen who had at any time even thought favor
ably of the dead cause of the South was disfran
chised. Archbishop Kenrick ordered a protest against
the oath and a refusal to take it. Every priest
said his archbishop spoke for him. Many clergy
men of protestant sects refused. The Catholic
priest receives his authority to preach from the
Divine Master through his Orders.
Only three or four priests in Missouri were
arrested. Father John Cummings, the young pas
tor of Louisiana, was arrested and put in jail. It
is believed the arrest was made by a blundering
deputy counsellor in the office of the United States
Attorney, Patterson Dyer, who was absent in the
interests of the Government. He was in St. Joseph,
Missouri, pleading a case. There was no man in
Missouri more pained by this arrest than Mr. Pat
terson. He never so much as thought of making
his dear friend and fellow citizen of Louisiana a
victim of the Drake Constitution. He telegraphed
an order to release Father Cummings and hastened
home on the first train to undo the outrage. But
Father Cummings refused to leave his cell. Arch
bishop Kenrick ordered Father Keiley of St. Louis
to go to Louisiana and say to Father Cummings it
was his wish to leave the jail, which he did. This
arrest was the death-knell of the Drake Oath
His Grace employed the' best legal talent of Mis
souri, headed by Alexander J. P. Garasche, to test
the constitutionality of this clause. A hearing was
brought before the Missouri State Court. The state
court of course sustained the validity of the arrest.
An appeal was taken to the Supreme Court at
Washington, where the decision of the Missouri
court was reversed and the oath declared unconsti-

116 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
tutional. This decision met with universal approval
all over the nation. The Radicals (as the party in
power in Missouri was called) were chagrined,
yet many of the more conservative among them
were loud in approval. Not only lawyers, doctors
and clergy were victims of this oath, but school
teachers and professors in colleges as well. The
entire faculty in the Seminary at Cape Girardeau
and the Sisters of Loretto in charge of the female
academy there were arrested and forced to appear
at Jackson, the county seat, where they were de
tained for several days at the convenience of the
judge. The interference of the governor of the
state quashed all proceedings in this instance.
All legal expense towards nullifying the Drake
Oath in both lower and higher courts was borne by
Archbishop Kenrick. That mild, retiring and inof
fensive clergyman belonged to a family which had
in its day a coat of arms bearing the device, "Noli
me tangere," in English "Don't touch me."
England, France, Germany, Italy and ancient
nations have time and again tried by law strategy
to interfere with the right of the Church to preach
the Gospel of Christ, but like Drake and his Mis
souri Constitution have been foiled. Its laws are
God-given and its rights have the seal of Heaven
on them. CONCERNING ARCHBISHOP KENRICK.
Editor Catholic Banner:
This correspondence will be devoted to Arch
bishop Kenrick. While teaching school in Phil
adelphia I called on the Very Reverend P. R. Ken
rick, then professor of Theology and Rector of the
diocesan Seminary. He was a brother of the Right
Reverend Francis Patrick Kenrick, bishop of Phil
adelphia. He was several years younger than his
brother. Young as he was (he was hardly thirty

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 117
years of age) he had the measured, steady gait of
today. He looked fully five feet, ten inches, tall,
was not spare but athletic in build, and a lover of
long walks. After the afternoon classes he left
the seminary for this daily exercise. Punctual in
everything, he opened the front door to the second
at 4 :30 p. m. He always walked alone. Weather
made no break in his daily routine. I heard from
one of the professors that he owed his health to
daily walks. It seems he was very delicate the
last year in the college of Maynooth, and after
his ordination he was appointed chaplain to a con
vent outside of Dublin. It was thought by his
Metropolitan, Archbishop Murray, that parish
work was too severe for him. He had ample time
for his chosen exercise and soon grew rugged. He
was invited to the Philadelphia diocese almost as
soon as his brother became bishop. He was
immediately assigned to a professorship in the
seminary and in a little while became rector. He
was also Vicar General. For some months he was
pastor of Pittsburgh, then recalled to the seminary.
He resigned this position and was to go to Rome
to become a Jesuit. His traveling companion was
Bishop Rosatti of St. Louis. The bishop took a
fancy to the young man and petitioned Pope Gre
gory XVI to appoint him his coadjutor in St. Louis.
This was done without consulting Father Kenrick.
When he called on the Pope what was his sur
prise to learn that he was to be coadjutor at St.
Louis and take charge of the diocese during the
absence of Bishop Rosatti, who was made Apostolic
Delegate to a South American country. The Pope
informed Father Kenrick that he wished him to
accept the dignity. He and Bishop Rosatti soon re
turned to America, where on November 30th, 1842,
in the cathedral of Philadelphia, he was consecrated
Bishop by the Right Reverend Joseph Rosatti.

118 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
Bishop England preached at the consecration. By
a singular coincidence a St. Louis priest named
Lafavre was consecrated in the same cathedral a
day or two before for Detroit. Bishop Lafavre for
some years attended all northeastern Missouri and
Illinois along the Mississippi River. Bishop Ken
rick left for his western home a few days after his
consecration. He traveled through Pennsylvania
as far as Pittsburgh. He took a boat on the Ohio
River. He had to change steamers at Cincinnati.
A delay of two days in Cincinnati detained him in
Bishop Purcell's residence, where I did myself the
honor of calling on him. I was then teaching
school at Lancaster. He said he remembered my
call on him in Philadelphia.
Although it was in my mind to apply for a
place in the Barrens Seminary, I did not do so for
Bishop Purcell was present and I had spoken to
him some time before in regard to my vocation to
the priesthood. He encouraged me and talked as
if he wished to adopt me into the Cincinnati dio
cese. I did not repeat my call on the new bishop
and did not see him again until he received me
into the St. Louis diocese. I preferred St. Louis
because I wished to work among the Indians. There
were few, if any, Indians left in Ohio, and I knew
that the extensive diocese of St. Louis had many
tribes, some of them under the care of the Jesuit
Fathers. I was at the Barrens Seminary for some
time and then transferred to the diocesan seminary
at St. Louis, under the learned Father Panquin, a
Lazarist Father. Father Panquin was a man of
solid piety and as a theologian and general scholar
was known from St. Louis to the Atlantic.
I was ordained in St. Louis Cathedral in 1845.
My theological course was not very long, but was
thorough, thanks to my able professor. Bishop
Kenrick did not put aside his theological professor-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 119
ship when he became head of a diocese, for he
visited his seminary two and sometimes three times
a week. He listened attentively to the learned dis
courses of Father Panquin and wound up the hour
with questions and puzzles. Before the ordination
of our class the bishop spent two full days putting
us through a thorough sifting on philosophy and
theology as well as other branches of study. His
Latin was Ciceronian and he confined his queries
to that tongue. Father Panquin frequently lauded
the bishop's classical Latin.
Since the Seminary days I have not had the
pleasure and benefit of Archbishop Kenrick's com
pany as often as I would wish. But I know him
well by his goodness and his standing in the epis
copacy of America. He is first among the fore
most. What I have to say of my archbishop is in
accord with what every priest in his diocese says
and knows. He is not only a scholar of the highest
rank in priestly lore, but he is a scientist of ac
knowledged standing. His translation from the
French of a learned work on Science and the Bible,
and his frequent contributions to scientific jour
nals are acknowledged evidences that he is a
scientist. "A priest should have a knowledge of
French and German," he used to tell the stu
dents. "Our tongue has a wide range, but the
great questions engaging the thinking minds of
our day are only slightly touched by English au
thors. In Germany and France you find a classi
fication of minds. They have the poets, the his
torians, the students of statecraft, and the supere-
minent philosophers and theologians. The reading
public patronizes them and they are not forced to
struggle for an existence. In society and the
financial world men are proud to refer to their
acquaintance with the two great European lan
guages. The priest is by every requirement a stu-

120 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
dent. He should be in close association with the
leaders of thought. Remember the German and
French writers are tireless and thorough. They
do not put together epitomes — they write exhaus
tive dissertations." This advice was as regular as
his visits to the seminarians. His library is large
and select. In appearance our Archbishop has a natural
dignity that attracts attention. A brilliant young
priest named John Ireland, now Bishop of St. Paul,
in a series of articles appearing in a Chicago news
paper under the title of "Men and Things I saw
and heard at the Vatican Council," says of Arch
bishop Kenrick: "While a chaplain in the army
during the Civil War I was the bearer of some
military orders that had to be handed to a com
manding officer with headquarters at St. Louis.
While in that city I visited Archbishop Kenrick. I
had often heard of His Grace, but now for the
first time I saw him. He was my Metropolitan,
but I was a young priest in St. Paul and from my
ordination was very busy as assistant in our Cathe
dral. He impressed me very highly. The next
time I met him was in Rome during the Vatican
Council. I was still a priest. I called on His
Grace at his lodgings and asked if I might oc
casionally escort him when he took his daily walk
on the Appian Way. With a cheerful smile he
said, "Yes, I shall be delighted. This walk is my
only exercise here. There will be no Session of
the Council tomorrow afternoon. Let us meet at
three o'clock in the afternoon." I had heard of
his methodical habits as to time and I was at the
starting place to the second — so was His Grace.
When we reached the famed promenade, we found
a large number of ecclesiastics from minutantis
or attachees of the Vatican to Bishops, Arch
bishops and Cardinals. We had scarcely joined

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 121
the array when Cardinal D'Angelis, the presiding
member of the Vatican Council, approached. His
eyes fell on Archbishop Kenrick and he left his
companion and moved to the Archbishop, whom he
shook by the hand and addressed in friendly terms,
as if they were old friends. This was a happy
surprise to me and I am sure to the others who saw
the exchange of greetings and who recognized the
participants. The Archbishop introduced me to
the Cardinal. The Cardinal was the leader of the
Infallibilists and His Grace of St. Louis led the
Inopportunists, and had up to that moment on two
ocassions mounted the tribune in the Council
Chamber to reply to the arguments of the great
majority demanding the Decree of Papal Infalli
bility. When the Archbishop and I resumed our
walk, His Grace immediately took up the descrip
tion he had been giving of Rome when he first saw
it in the early summer of 1842. The meeting of
the Cardinal and himself evidently did not weigh
on my Metropolitan, but it did on me. During the
two hours' walk we discussed many subjects, but
not Papal Infallibility. After this first walk as
well as after the others, acquaintances would say
to me, "Who was the distinguished looking digni
tary with whom you were walking?" Others saw
charm of manner, dignity of bearing, and an in
tellectual face just as I had."
His dignity was natural — it was as much a
part of himself as his great intellect, as his genial
and even disposition. In his study he met his
priests with outstretched hand and a "God bless
you" from his lips and heart. The St. Louis clergy
invariably fall on their knees as they approach and
after a blessing kiss his ring. His first and usual
question follows, "How is your health?" Then,
"Take great care of your health, for it is the great
est asset a priest has-" Then a momentary silence,

122 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
or a reference to the weather. The priest broaches
his business. The archbishop counsels or recom
mends, or if he sees so, advises adversely. More
good wisnes follow and the priest asks another
blessing, confident that His Grace has advised
wisely. Gossip, politics, tales about priests or the
diocese are never entered into by the archbishop,
and should the priest offer such subjects the ex
pression on the archbishop's face and a forbidding
look would mean that the interview was over. No
reprimand in words. A witticism in the natural
trend of the conversation would be graciously ac
knowledged and fonowed by some amusing remark
by His Grace. He enjoys a pun and shows approval
at any witty scintillation by a smile or quiet laugh.
His modulated tones are easily heard. Loud lan
guage or high-toned singing are grating to his ear.
His singing on the Altar is sweet and correct with
the notes of the rubrics. When visiting a priest
for confirmation, cornerstone laying, or cnurch
blessing, he strives to save all unnecessary atten
tion and begs to be allowed to feel at home and
to put up with the ordinary everyday run of things.
His visits always leave happy recollections. He
never departs without thanking the domestics for
their kindness.
He must be slow to chide, for I on one occa
sion seemed an offender. When an act of direct
disregard of obedience was telegraphed the Mis
souri Republican, I know he read the printed false
hood and quietly awaited my statement. The mis
representation referred to was consequent to the
order 'of the Archbishop for every priest to read
to his congregation on a certain Sunday a con
demnation, and a refusal to obey the Drake Consti
tution commanding ministers of the Gospel to take
an oath of allegiance to the state government of
Missouri and not dare preach until the oath was

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 123
taken and signed. This order was a claim that
the right to preach the Gospel came from the state.
The pagan enactment of old was resurrected. I
read the archbishop's letter and entered my pro
test in clear, strong terms. My closing words were :
"When the united sentiment of condemnation of
the state's claims and the state's interference with
our God-given authority and commission to preach
the Gospel reaches the capital at Jefferson City
the bigots will weaken and deny they meant what
they enjoined. The papers tell us that one of the
originators of this anti-Christian demand is already
weakening and said, "If they persist in refusing to
obey, we may compromise and allow the preachers
and priests to lecture on the Bible." In one of
our pews sat a disreputable man who a few days
before was arrested by our Mayor during a sword
practice for a duel with one of our citizens. Be
sides being a wild-eyed, quarrelsome man, he spoke
on frequent occasions shockingly disrespectful
things about religion. He claimed he had been a
Catholic, but long since left the Church. In the
Catholic Church at Jefferson City he interrupted
the priest in the pulpit and broke out into a blas
phemous harangue against the Pope, bishops and
priests. His guiding evil spirit led him to my
church this morning. He surely saw in the news
papers that the archbishop's letter would be read
and the new law defied. He had now and then
dabbled in newspaper work. Here was a chance
to lie against a priest and an opportunity to earn
a few dollars as correspondent. The story he sent
the St. Louis paper was that Father Donnelly said
he would obey the constitution and instead of
preaching would for the future lecture on the Gos
pel. All he telegraphed filled a column on the
front page of the St. Louis Republican. I had
heard tne archbishop say he rarely read more than

124 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
the headlines in a paper. The interesting story
about me likely led him to read from beginning to
end. I only surmise, for I never heard him refer
to the matter. But several of my clerical friends
became solicitous about me and sent me telegrams
of doubt, denunciation, and fear as to my certain
fate. The St. Louis dailies did not reach here then
until late in the afternoon. I hastened to purchase
the Republican of that morning and when I read
it I sent a telegram to my archbishop vigorously
denying the statements and regretting that I was
an innocent occasion of grief and chagrin to him.
I also sent a long message by wire to the Repub
lican, which it published on Tuesday morning. I
soon learned who the correspondent was and lost
not a moment in trying to meet him. But, coward
and liar that he was, he left the city early Monday
for parts unknown.
My second untoward venture had a business
intent. It was backed by a desire to save the arch
bishop from the bungling of an inexperienced man
in whom his Grace had confidence. For several
years he was in the employ of the archbishop as
his superintendent in the construction of the many
buildings the archbishop was erecting on vacant
diocesan property. It was in 1869 and His Grace
was preparing to attend the Vatican Council in
Rome. He made it known that during his absence
this builder would represent him as his business
agent and would have charge of the sale of many
tracts of land in the new parts of the city. The
Celini estate left by a Father Celini to be disposed
of after a certain time and the proceeds used for
the benefit of keeping old and decrepit priests of
the archdiocese of St. Louis, was to be put on the
market. Here was a matter that concerned the
priesthood of all Missouri — their property was in
the hands of this lay agent. Like Shakespeare's

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 125
Caesar he had grown great, and his meat was the
archbishop's patronage. At a called meeting in
the rectory of a St. Louis priest, diocesan clergy
from city and country missions drew up a mild and
reverential protest against this appointee handling
as agent the bequest of the St. Louis priest to
priests. If His Grace insisted on selling this grant,
there were priests in the archdiocese who could
handle the sale more judiciously than he and would
by their management bring better financial results.
The paper was signed by all present. The names
they selected as worthy and competent agents were
among the senior and experienced priests. They
were: Rev. William Wheeler, Rev. Patrick O'Brien
and Rev. Bernard Donnelly. These reverend gen
tlemen were a committee to hand the protest to His
Grace. That afternoon they waited on the Arch
bishop and read the document to him. Each one
in turn said a few words, laying stress on what
they called the ignorance of this party on real
estate values. His Grace listened with utmost at
tention. When we had finished a heavy silence
followed. It seemed, but really was not, long when
he asked each one of us, "Are you through, Rev
erend Father?" Our reply was, "Yes." Then open
ing the door of his study he said, "Good day, gen
tlemen." The Celini estate was sold. I learn, for
I was not present, that the Vicar-General, Very
Rev. P. J. Ryan, at the annual meeting of the
Priests' Purgatorial Society of the Archdiocese in
the Immaculate Conception Church, St. Louis, No
vember, 1870, called on the priests present to start
a mutual aid society for old and infirm priests.
To the question of Father P. O'Brien, the Vicar-
General replied there were no funds in the arch
diocese for needy priests. I have at my elbow a
copy of the Acts and Decrees of the St. Louis Synod
held in 1852. There the fund is mentioned. I

126 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
knew Father Celini and heard him state that he
had put aside legally a tract of land in St. Louis
for poor priests.
No wingless angels in human shape swing in
cense around Archbishop Kenrick. A glance from
his soul-penetrating eyes would still the flatterer,
and words of reproof would paralyze the tale
bearer. No coterie of the self-seeking kind could
endure in this diocese. His selections for honors
always have been men of brains and good work.
"Take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his
like again."
During the four years of the Civil War, Arch
bishop Kenrick never crossed the lines of his own
diocese. When his brother, Archbishop Francis
Patrick Kenrick of Baltimore, died suddenly in
July, 1863, he did not attend the funeral. No
provincial assembly of the bishops of the Province
was held, although one was due but recalled. Pro
vincial synods or councils were regular every few
years. His Grace carried out all the details of the
beautiful ceremonial of Holy Week. He pontifi
cated on Holy Thursday and Good Friday, and
invariably preached on both days. Pastors and
assistants of all the city churches attended in the
Sanctuary. After the Easter of 1861 His Grace
never appeared in the Sanctuary during the period
of war except to say a low or early Mass, and to
confirm and ordain. All during the conflict of
arms he practiced prudence in word and action.
On one occasion, a student of theology belonging
to St. Louis, notified His Grace that he had been
drafted into the army, and begged advice. Arch
bishop Kenrick's reply was as follows :
"Dear Sir: Prudence forbids me to do more
than acknowledge the receipt of your letter.
Yours truly,
P. R. Kenrick."

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 127
Priests imperceptibly pattern themselves after
their bishop. The St. Louis clergy are studious,
hardworking and pious. Their reputation for these
qualities is recognized the country over. It is an
honor to belong to Archbishop Kenrick's diocese.
B. Donnelly.

CHAPTER XIV.
FATHER DONNELLY AND HIS BROTHER
PRIESTS.

fi

'ATHER DONNELLY lived so far away
from his brother priests and kept himself
so busy at Independence, Kansas City, and
his missions, that he seldom found time to
visit them. Even in his home town he rarely
called on anyone except for business purposes. His
well-selected library grew dearer as he grew older.
His Greek and Latin books were ever at his side.
He read them, he translated them day after day.
He purchased every new work on science and his
tory. Murray's English Grammar was well thumbed
and frequently brought into requisition while enter
taining a visitor. His writing and correspondence
were done after the supper meal was over. The
light by which he wrote was a small sperm candle
held in the mouth of a soda water bottle. He wrote
slowly, every little while taking up the manuscript
and looking at it to find if the "t" was crossed and
the "i" dotted, and the word spelled correctly.
Then he had a habit quite common in his day of
leaving the letter or writing unfinished, to be con
tinued the next night. As he closed his writing
he would draw a line under it and put a new date
on the next page. Some of his letters run over
five or six days, which meant five or six dates.
The school-room and the desk had the effect
of making Father Donnelly in after life at times a
recluse in the sense that he rarely left his home
or city. When some strenuous effort engaged him
for a lengthy period, such as collecting for church,
hospital, and other edifices, or some wear and tear
like the Westport battle and its consequent work

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 129
among the sick, wounded or dead, occupied his
time and attention, he sought relief and relaxation
by retiring to his little home and going forth only
at the call of business or duty. His habits were
well fixed before he became a priest. He enjoyed
company and could indulge in joke and repartee
and above all was ready in argument when discus
sion arose. All such pleasant opportunities had
to come to him, for his visits were sudden and
short. If his predecessors, the missionary Jesuits,
had ever gone over his territory, they went in
turns, one man this time, another the next. Strong
as he was physically he needed and took occasion
ally a long rest. When rest and quiet were over
he saw many things to do. His clerical friends
were miles away. He no doubt yearned for con
genial company and he knew that could be found
only when priests came together. The coming to
gether of priests strengthens them all, their ex
ample is effective, and their interchange of senti
ments and experiences helpful and encouraging.
The passing missionary from some monastery or
religious house, and a few priests of the diocesan
order were all who could afford to come to Kanzas
or Independence. Father Donnelly was as little
able to defray traveling expenses as they were.
The missionary waiting for passage on a north
bound boat would drop in on him at Independence
or Kanzas. At Independence he would share his
confined quarters with his guest and in the '40s
and early '50s he brought the visitor at Kanzas
to the commodious and hospitable home of the
Chouteau family. It should be mentioned that
many of those chance guests were so inured to the
hardships of their lives on the frontier that they
slept by choice on the hard floor, being so unac
customed to the luxury of a bed that it afforded
them only a restless night.

130 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
During all this time Father Donnelly was at
Independence, at Kanzas, or on his annual two or
three months' journeying to the Ozarks. When
Kansas City assumed metropolitan proportions,
priests usually found quarters at the local hotels,
and during their stay would rarely forget to pay
their respects to the pioneer Father Donnelly.
Every caller went away impressed with his adapt
ability. He could bandy jokes and pleasantries
with the most waggish; he could sing a comic song
with the visitor who would display his acquaintance
with and the rendition of an Irish ballad from
Moore or some well-known maker of rhymes. If
the caller offered a challenge to a philosophical or
theological discussion, Father Donnelly hurried to
pick up the gauntlet.
Busy Father Donnelly feared to leave his home
lest the call to some duty would find him absent.
"A priest is a soldier of the Lord and should for
ever be at his post," he would say. Although slow
to give account of his way or ways of doing things,
or of his treatment of others, more than once in
letter or by word of mouth, he would remark: "I
cannot be happy with assistants because they are
forever on the go; they don't try to be at home in
their rooms." Father Kennedy was his closest
neighbor. They had the same ideas of clerical
propriety. They both more than once tried but
failed to bring to task the "guerilla clerics who
were ever seeking after the goods of other parishes,
if not the good." Those men he was tree to call
"marauders who wear sanctimonious faces and
shake their heads with piteous terms of disap
proval of other priests' endeavors." In sickness,
in death, Father Donnelly was first at the bedside
of brother priests. His purse was open to the wan
dering and destitute clergy. Father Donnelly was
a priest among priests. His high and holy calling

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 131
he brought to the attention of priest and laity alike.
A judge (Judge Latshaw) of high standing, who
in his childhood days lived near Father Donnelly,
said in a speech referring to early settlers: "I
lived as boy and young man near Father Donnelly's
home. I saw him several times each day, but I
can never recall his going in or out of his home,
or moving from the church back three blocks to the
graveyard, that he did not wear on his head the
three-cornered cap and his long robe or cassock.
He was always a priest!" This is no small com
pliment, and is an evidence that the man who spoke
so frequently and so highly of the priesthood was
glad to display his sacred regalia. It was only to
see Father Donnelly daily to know that he was
first and always a priest. While his life brought
others to a high appreciation of his vocation, he
constantly lauded brother priests who were true
to all priestly, gentlemanly and scholarly require
ments. Father Donnelly was a manly priest — he
would have been as manly in any other calling. He
was too big mentally and in generosity of heart
to be jealous or small in the estimates he made of
others. He saw men who did little in the priest
hood or for the priesthood advanced to high posi
tions. He was quick to point out why each one
went up higher. He even searched for reasons for
some promotions. His charity was bountiful and
yet his honesty was as great as his charity, and his
boldness of expression was as great as either. It
was generally believed by his friends that his last
years would be rewarded with some special recogni
tion. Some admirers among the clergy petitioned
his Grace in St. Louis to use his good offices with
Rome to make Father Donnelly Monsignor, then,
and for many years afterwards, a dignity unknown
in America. His Grace replied by saying that

132 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
there was no honor too high for Father Donnelly
and that he would bear in mind their request.
Father Donnelly learned what the priests had done
and wrote them thanking each one for his kind in
tentions but finding fault with them for writing
the letter. He also wrote a letter to Archbishop
Kenrick saying that he had reached the highest
honor for which he was ambitious — he was Father
Donnelly and wanted to rest with that.

CHAPTER XV.
HISTORY OF THE ORIGINAL CHURCH SITE.

fi

'ATHER BENEDICT LE ROUX, the first
resident pastor, purchased in 1839 forty
acres from Pierre La Liberte for the sum
of six dollars. He deeded ten acres of this
to Bishop Rosatti for a consideration in hand of
two dollars. On the ten acres, when deeded to the
Bishop, were a log church and a log sitting place
for a missionary priest. It was entirely too small
for a residence. There were two little rooms, one
designed for a kitchen, the other just big enough
for a narrow couch and a chair or two. The
church was dismantled when the city laid out
Pennsylvania Avenue and Eleventh Street. The
church was at the intersection of the two streets.
The log hut was sold with other parts of the ori
ginal purchase to help pay for the new Cathedral.
$10,000.00 was the money paid for the lot on
which the hut rested. The Cathedral cost over
$100,000. The cathedral of Buffalo, one of the
most beautiful churches in the United States, was
completed by Bishop Timon in the '50s for $150,000.
Material and labor were much lower when the
Buffalo cathedral was built. To meet the cost
of Kansas City's cathedral it was necessary to sell
much of the ten acres.
Father Donnelly sold that portion of the plot
facing west on Washington, north on Eleventh and
south on Twelfth Streets half way to Broadway,
to build or complete the new St. Joseph's Home
for Female Orphans. The price it brought was
$11,200.00. When streets and sidewalks were run
through the original ten acress there were left
about three blocks, with about 120 feet over, ly-

134 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
ing west of the west line of Jefferson Street. The
cathedral and some of the unsold property facing
on Broadway and the portion facing on Washing
ton, sold by Father Donnelly (of course with the
consent of the archbishop) , is the east extreme.
Father Donnelly, about the time he resigned his
church, opened and graded Jefferson Street from
11th to 12th Streets. The block west of Washing
ton Avenue was used by the Sisters of St. Joseph
and was the site of St. Teresa's Academy. From
Pennsylvania Avenue on the west, to Jefferson
Street, was the graveyard. When Father Don
nelly opened Mount St. Mary's Cemetery burials
ceased in the old place. Many of the dead were
transferred to the new grounds. A number of graves
remained untouched until Father Doherty, Father
Donnelly's successor, had them all transferred to
their new home in Mount St. Mary's.
Concerning the cemetery Father Donnelly wrote
to the Catholic Banner, February 15, 1880:
"The churchyard or graveyard was southwest
of the little log church, fenced in by upright
pickets driven into the ground. The graves were
few. "There is reason to believe that the first Chris
tians who died in the vicinity of Kansas City were
buried at the summit angle of the bluff just east
of the foot of Grand Avenue. I saw the rude
crosses there in 1846.
"I find in the records of the dead the follow
ing primitive names, viz.: Edward Petelle, Mary
Dripps, (Otto-nata), Virginia Philibert, Marie Bel-
more, L. Felix Canville, James Gre, Andre P. Roy,
Lenard Benoist, Lessert, Jarboe, Farrier, and many
others. Margaret Prudhomme, Henri Henri, etc.
"Gieso Chouteau, a gallant lieutenant in the
United States army during the Mexican war, the
Guinotte brothers, Belgians by birth; Dr. Benoist

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 135
Troost, a surgeon in the grand army of Napoleon
the Great, etc., etc. The unassuming people of
those days were the hardy, fearless pioneers of
religion and Christian civilization."
Safeguarding the original ten acres of church
property purchased by Father Le Roux was a con
stant care of Father Donnelly's lifetime. "When I
came here in 1845 I found the ten acres, the log
church and little cabin or resting house in the care
of Madam Margaret Gre, an Iroquois Indian
woman, with her six children. The poor woman
had been forced to abandon her hut in the West
Kanzas bottoms by the great overflow of 1844.
She was living in a hovel, half wood and half can
vas. She kept the log church neat and tidy. She
did her cooking in a small apartment on the south
end of the log hut. She spoke English imperfectly,
but had a good command of French and her own
Indian dialect. She was strong and fearless and
at the approach of strangers carried a large stick
which she held hoisted in a threatening manner
until she was sure of the friendly intentions of the
invaders. "It was in 1847 after an absence in South
Missouri from Independence my home, and Kan
zas, my mission, that I luckily obtained the two
fold information that a charter had been granted
and a company formed to lay off a town at the
river, and that the members of my Catholic con
gregation, headed by Dr. Benoist Troost, had held
several meetings during my absence at which it
was moved, seconded, and passed to sell the ten
acre lot for $500 and to accept from the town com
pany the donation of six lots of sixty feet front
each, situated on the high bluff east of Broadway
where now is to be seen a brickyard. At that time
$500 was considered a high price for ten acres.
Next day Dr. Troost called upon me, showed me

136 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
the petition to Archbishop Kenrick, at the same
time pointing out the blank intended for my name.
The Doctor was too intelligent a man not to know
that the signature of the pastor was more potent
with the Archbishop than those of all the others
put together. So the doctor very politely and per
suasively requested me to sign the petition. With
an assuring tone and a confiding look I asked the
doctor if it were not more politic and prudent to
address a few lines of my own to the Archbishop
and give him a more lucid account of matters and
things at Kansas City, and to point out to his
Grace the prospective impulse the starting of a
new city down at the river would give to religion,
etc. The doctor acquiesced. I wrote a letter to
the Archbishop stating everything, but warning
him against complying with the request of the
petition. Among other things I made the common-
sense argument to induce him to agree with me:
'It is true a company has been chartered with the
object of starting a new town, the site to be laid
off at the river, but I wish to remind your Grace
that if it ever be of much account, the city will
come over our way, for it cannot go into the river,
and therefore in a short time we may find our
selves near enough to it. The town must come this
way.' The Archbishop answered: 'I do not wish
to divert the church lot near Kanzas from the in
tentions of the donor.' "

CHAPTER XVI.
THE COMING OF THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS.

fi

'ATHER DONNELLY'S entrance into Kan
sas City cut off his large missionary field
on the south and to a great extent on the
east. His limits were narrowed down, but
his interest in the old territory was as keen as ever.
Indeed, he translated the Greek word Episcopos to
"guardian, superintendent, overseer." He was al
ways the Episcopos or overseer, of his old original
territory. Nothing done in his old field escaped
his watchful attention. He was happy at the good,
fruitful work of the priests to whom his domain
was parcelled off. He lauded the zeal and activi
ty of his clerical helpers, and was glad to return a
visit from any of the new pastors.
The needs of the Church in Kansas City
went apace with the growth of the city. He could
not expect the required financial help from his
people. With two or three exceptions they were
all struggling to meet the family demands. He
quoted the words of the magician: "There is
gold in the ground, and with my wand I'll set it
free." The gold in the West was hidden in the
Rockies near Pike's Peak, and in California. He
saw help and wealth in the very clay of the ten
acres. He dug up the earth and shaped it into
bricks. He kept his brickyard in service until the
early '70s. He sold thousands of brick, and what
he retained he used in the parish school. It was
brick from his yards that built the original St.
Teresa's Academy facing on Twelfth Street. With
them he completed his residence, making it a two-
story building. He readily found purchasers for
his product. The financial results made him able

The first addition to the> Catholic School, when it became St. Teresa's
Academy. Built in 1867. Picture taken about 1869

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 139
to donate $3,000 to the German church of Saints
Peter and Paul. He gave out of his savings $2,000
in cash to St. Patrick's parish soon after it was
started. To the Annunciation parish he contri
buted $500, all he could then afford. He never
solicited for the purchase of Mount St. Mary's
Cemetery, but bought the forty-four acres and
paid for them from his savings outside of the brick
industry. The ten acres which he first intended
for a cemetery, but because of its rocky soil found
unsuited for burial purposes, he bought and paid
for without any call upon the public. This is the
site of the St. Joseph's Orphan Asylum.
When the Civil War broke out Father Don
nelly had the basement of a large brick school on
Washington Street completed. Further work on
the building was out of the question. But with
the exception of the three days of the battle of
Westport, the teacher, Miss Mary Virginia Haverty,
now Mrs. S. Jarboe, never neglected her class one
day. They held school in the basement. As the
city's population fell from over six to less than one
thousand, the school attendance correspondingly
decreased. With the return of peace the city
gradually grew, and with it, the Catholic school.
In 1866 Father Donnelly applied to the mother-
house at Carondelet for teachers. When he re
ceived a favorable response he finished the two
stories over the basement and built a large brick
front to the original structure, facing it towards
12th Street. This was the beginning of the future
St. Teresa's Academy. Mother Francis was the
first superior. With her were six other Sisters.
From their very arrival there were evidences of
success. In 1869 Mother De Pazzi replaced Mother
Francis. The city was growing rapidly, and the
attendance at St. Teresa's Academy was satisfac
tory. Local families sent their children there and

St. Teresa's Academy as erected by Father Donnelly

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 141
the towns of Kansas were represented in the at
tendance. Independence, Lexington, Liberty and
Weston took advantage of the only convent board
ing school near by and figured among its patrons.
Old St. Teresa's Academy has been forced from
its original site by the enroachment of commerce.
Its new location is in the- most desirable part of
Kansas City. The new buildings are unsurpassed
in architectural beauty and modern facilities by
the most modern female colleges in America. The
Sisters of St. Joseph in academy and parochial
work have never lost their hold on the Catholics
of Kansas City and surrounding territory. The
St. Joseph Hospital was suggested and aided
financially by Father Donnelly. It began as a
seven-room, two-story frame building. Like the
Academy the hospital yielded to the advance of
business, and its namesake occupies a command
ing site in a resident district, central, and free
from the noise and influences detrimental to the
sick. Its style of architecture has been copied in
various cities of the East.
The St. Joseph's Orphan Asylum still retains
its original location, on the ten acres donated by
Father Donnelly. The Park Board of Kansas City
has secured the permanency and usefulness of the
asylum on its original site by swinging around it the
picturesque boulevard arising from Penn Valley
Park and named for one of Kansas City's greatest
citizens, Mr. Karnes, whose loyalty to Kansas City
and whose ability as a lawyer will live in the his
tory of his beloved city. The Sisters of St. Joseph
teach the school attached to the cathedral, and
are still on the ten acres of Father Le Roux, where
they instruct 350 pupils. The other schools under
their care in Kansas City are : The Redemptorist
School, where they have over 500 pupils, in con
nection with which they teach a commercial course

142 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
and have a high school department; they have 95
pupils in the Assumption School; 450 in the school
of the Holy Rosary; 85 in the school of Our Lady
of Guadalupe (Mexican) ; and 70 in Sts. Peter
and Paul's. In the St. Joseph Orphan Asylum
they teach the orphans and have recently admitted
children outside the institution. They came here
with seven members to open Father Donnelly's
school. Today they have 120 Sisters in Kansas
City and their pupils in the orphanage, Academy
and Parish schools number fully 2,000.
Father Donnelly assisted the Redemptorist
Fathers to buy their site of ten acres. In 1876
he invited them to give a two weeks' mission in
his church. The Very Reverend Father Provincial
sent Fathers Cook, Enright and Kern in response
to the request. That mission was truly a religious
awakening and an impetus in the Catholic Church
of Kansas City. The Immaculate Conception
Church was central, with St. Patrick's Church on
the east and the Church of the Annunciation on
the west. The church (about 35x60 feet) was not
large enough for the demands of the parish, but
after the first Sunday the whole city became ani
mated with the spiritual interest aroused in the
mother parish. The crowds that flocked to the
Monday evening sermon filled the church to stand
ing room. Those who could not enter stood around
in large numbers, the windows were opened, and
the outside attendance outnumbered the inside.
Tuesday evening the schools on 11th and on Wash
ington Streets were packed to the doors, while
the church proper held as many people as on the
previous night. Every night until the close, three
missionaries preached in church and the two
schools. Day after day from the five o'clock Mass
in the morning until late at night confessions were
heard. Father Cook, the superior of the mission,

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 143
seeing what was confronting him, had two more
missionaries hurried from the Rock Church in St.
Louis. The number of confessions and Com
munions seemed to grow with each day. It was
a pleasant surprise to the local priests. They did
not know there were so many Catholics in their
city. Many men of social and financial standing,
calling themselves Catholics, whose wives and
children went to Mass and their duties, were
avowed Freemasons, Oddfellows, and Knights of
Pythias. They marched in the parades of these
societies. It would seem that some special grace
led these men to attend the mission. They tore
loose from these forbidden organizations and re
sumed their standing in the church. Kansas City
was booming at that time and many newcomers
lost no time in making themselves known to their
respective pastors as a result of the mission. A
spirit of indifference at least, or perhaps the ex
ample on the part of the home people had made
them believe it was the smart thing to stay away
from Mass on Sundays.
The two newer parishes were beneficiaries of
the mission. The following year Father Cook, with
Fathers Rosenbauer, McLaughlin and Kern, opened
a mission in the Annunciation Parish. The Cath
olics from the hilltops came down to the West Kan
sas City bottoms, and every man and woman in
that new district attended early Masses and ap
proached the Sacraments. The two new school
buildings took care of the overflow at the spacious
temporary church. The magnetic zeal of the Re
demptorists suggested to Father Donnelly to invite
them to a permanent residence in Kansas City.
Nothing was too good for his beloved city. Its
interests were always uppermost in his heart. The
growth of the church and the salvation of his people
were deeper in his every thought and prayer than

144 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
even the material advancement of the city. He lost
no time in opening up a correspondence with the
Very Reverend Provincial, Father Jaeckel, and
then repeated his wish in a letter to Archbishop
Kenrick of St. Louis. Father Jaeckel consulted
the Father General (Father Mauron) at Rome. A
speedy permission resulted. This was in Novem
ber, 1877. The Father Provincial soon came to
Kansas City to secure a site for the future home.
Father Donnelly had in mind a desirable place.
Cook's Pasture seemed to him to be central ; it was
just inside the city limits. It began at 17th and
Summit Streets, running to Broadway and south
to 24th Street. It was rolling ground, in parts
well shaded by stately oaks. There were many
acres of rich, loamy soil. The price was reason
able. The Father Provincial was much pleased
and his mind was made up to purchase.
When Father Jaeckel called on the archbishop
for approval, His Grace procured a map of Kansas
City which he had filed away. Cook's Pasture
being pointed out, His Grace thought the location
was too near the other city parishes and advised
that they would go south, near Westport. "Father
Donnelly is constantly telling me that the growth
of the city is southward. Besides, as you intend
to start your work with a school for young postu
lants, and will in a short while establish your novi
tiate there, I think you will find a much more con
venient location on the high land near Westport.
Cook's Pasture will soon be a downtown neighbor
hood." The Provincial shortly afterwards returned
to Kansas City. Father Donnelly then offered him
a present of his ten acres near 31st and Jefferson
Streets. While grateful for such a generous ten
der, the .father Provincial wished to be on a main
street or avenue running from Kansas City to
Westport. The Jefferson Street property was out

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 145
of the way. In addition, it was high and uneven,
and had a heavy rock deposit which would entail
expense in building. With many tnanks he declined
Father Donnelly's gift of property. Father Don
nelly was not disheartened. He admitted that a
better site lay not many yards away. It was level
and on tne very street running south to Westport.
He would contribute to the purchase of the more
desirable property. The Mastin Brothers, then the
leading Kansas City bamters, owned a large farm
south and east of Kansas City. A corner covering
ten acres facing north and extending southward
along the Westport road was for sale, the first
partition of the farm, and its most desirable part.
The deed of purchase was drawn up and signed
before tne Provincial returned to St. Louis, 'mis
property was just what Father JaecKel wanteu.
It was conveniently located, without hill or quarry,
about two miles from Kansas City, and not very
far from the old town of Westport. The price
was five thousand dollars for ten acres.
How proud Father Donnelly was when he
learned from the Father Provincial a few days
afterwards that it was the intention of the con
gregation to use the property for the home of their
missionary Fathers and for a novitiate and college
and seminary for their students and novices. "What
an honor to Kansas City !" he would exclaim. "One
of the best known and most efficient religious or
ganizations in the Church coming to Kansas City
to supply missions and missionaries to the whole
country from New Orleans to Detroit and from
St. Louis to the Pacific Ocean! Kansas City is
at last on the Map of Religion in the United States.
This was something I hardly dared dream of in
sleeping or wakeful moments."
The date of the purchase was December 3rd,
1877. A two-story building with a high stone base-

1 46 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
ment was started in early spring. The cornerstone
of the structure was laid by Father Donnelly on
the first Sunday of March. Reverend Father Cook,
C. S. S. R., preached. Fathers Dunn, Dalton,
Curran (the assistant at Immaculate Conception
Church), John Ryan (assistant at Annunciation),
two Benedictine Fathers from Atchison, three Re
demptorist Fathers from St. Louis, and Father T.
Fitzgerald of Independence, Missouri, took part in
the ceremony. A large concourse of Catholics from
the three parishes of the city and from neighbor
ing towns in Kansas was present. The day was
unusually fine and the sun shone as on a day in
May. The structure was finished and on May 28th,
1878, was solemnly blessed by the Father Pro
vincial, assisted by the two resident priests, Fathers
Faivre and Luette. Father Faivre was Superior.
A lay brother was the third member of the com
munity. Improvements on the grounds and the
construction of an annex made the new home for
the novices and students of the Province. The
transfer of the novices and students from the orig
inal home at Chatawa, Mississippi, to Kansas City
took place in January, 1879. Father Firley, the
Master of Novices, escorted the young men to their
new residence. He held this same position for
many years and was local Rector in Kansas City
and afterwards Provincial of the Congregation.
The Redemptorist Fathers opened their spa
cious community Chapel to the few Catholics south
of the city limits. The little mission at Westport
was practically closed from January, 1875, and in
time became succursal to St. Patrick's Parish. Then
it was put under the charge of the Redemptorists.
Sick calls were attended by the Redemptorists as
far south and east as Hickman Mills and the River
Blue. This was done at the request of the pastor

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 147
of St. Patrick's Church, whose growing parish made
it impracticable to go so far away from his home.
A new duty came to the Redemptorists early
in 1880. In January of that year Father Donnelly
opened the Orphan Asylum on what is now Jef
ferson and 31st Streets. He handed over to them
the chaplaincy of the new St. Joseph's Orphanage.
In March, 1881, the Redemptorists were re
quested to attend once a month the missions at
Norborne, Parkville and Liberty. Father Beil was
assigned to these new charges. In 1882 the new
convent of the Sisters of the Poor was added to
the charge of the Redemptorists. On February
21st, 1888, the Redemptorist Parish was estab
lished. Many of these original novices at Kansas City
have since held high positions in their congrega
tion. At least three of them have been Fathers
Provincial, and the Rectors at St. Louis, New Or
leans and other places in their western Province
made their novitiate in the Kansas City home.
The House of Students was in time transferred to
Kansas City. Newer and larger buildings followed
as a necessity. The courses immediately prepara
tory to the priesthood were for years taught here
and the number of priests ordained in the Kansas
City house is very large. Almost from the very
start the Fathers residing at Kansas City went
forth on the work of mission-giving. Frequently
they have given missions on the Pacific Coast, from
San Francisco to San Diego on the south, and to
Portland, and northward into the British posses
sions in Canada, eastward through Salt Lake, Den
ver, and the towns in the Rocky Mountains. In
every diocese west and south of Kansas City their
missions are recorded in the work they have done
for God and humanity. Like St. Paul they travel
everywhere and preach everywhere. Time and

Exterior and interior of Redemptorist Church

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 149
again St. Paul and New Orleans have been spirit
ually benefited by the Redemptorist Fathers from
the Kansas City house. The churches of St. Louis,
Chicago, Indianapolis, Memphis and Alabama are
the beneficiaries of the zeal and efficiency of St.
Alphonsus' Rectorate at Kansas City.
Father Donnelly's zeal for the salvation of
souls is far-reaching in the work of his chosen
Redemptorists, who gave preparatory training to
their subjects at Kansas City. Their efficiency
has won recognition wherever they have labored.
Their novitiate is now at De Soto, their house for
preparatory training is in St. Louis County, and
the seminary for the closing studies before enter
ing the Sanctuary is on one of the picturesque lakes
of Wisconsin. The changes that time and oppor
tunity demanded have consigned the Kansas City
home of St. Alphonsus to mission and parish duties.
The Fathers here are as ever in requisition for
missions, everywhere far and near. Their parish
work is efficiency itself. Their church structure
is the largest in the city. When material and labor
knew no such prices as they command today, St.
Alphonsus' Church cost over $200,000. Their
schools number over 500 pupils, and are academic
as well as preparatory. New and larger structures
will soon follow the pressing demands. The Church
attendance packs the spacious aisles and fills the
pews Sunday after Sunday. The number of con
fessions heard is very large. In 1920 the number
of communions exceeded 220,000.

CHAPTER XVII.
FATHER DONNELLY AS A LABORING MAN.

®HEN Father Donnelly began his brickmak-
ing, after the bricks were molded and car
ried out to dry, night after night he
watched the moon and the sky, and when
heavy clouds portended a coming rain, would not
wait to call the yard laborers from their slumbers,
but in his barrow and on boards would carry the
bricks to a sheltered place. When the rain ceased
he helped carry them back to the sun's rays. In
his brickyard he wore the overalls of the laborer.
He laughed heartily when passersby or strangers
would mistake him for a workman. He was pleased
to hear it bandied about that he was one of the
hired men in the church brickyard. The church
property on the east side and from the south to
the west limits, was graded down to the street level
by converting the elevated parts into brick. He
called this result good business and the saving of
hundreds of dollars. The extreme west end of the
church property to the north was what he called
the Rocky Point. Large bulging tiers of rock went
up fifteen feet high. Between times and when his
work in the brickyards was easing up, he turned
to what he called the "Rocky Point." The small
and the softer stones he sold to contractors who
were riprapping the Missouri River. Some of the
stone would make good lime. He built kilns just
as he had seen them abroad. Yard after yard of
stone crumbled and fell in flakes or chunks under
his eyes. He called this employment "working at
my old trade." Father Donnelly had the habit of
his countrymen of always portraying the things at
home as better than the same in America, "but my

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 151
lime was never excelled at home or abroad," was a
daily boast. He ought to know. In this, as in any
thing else he prided himself on, it was wise never
to contradict him, "for though defeated, he would
argue still." Builders and contractors said his lime
and brick were of a very high grade.
When he had disposed of the top ledges of the
quarry he came to a hard white vein of good build
ing stone. He found a ready market for this to be
used in facings and steps. Here he proved himself
a competent stone cutter. Oftentimes he could be
seen by the side of the mechanic with chisel and
mallet cutting down and facing large slabs of this
native stone. Men working by his side many a time
allowed their curiosity and astonishment to get the
upper hand and would say, "Where did you learn
this trade?" His reply was the Irishman's; it did
not afford any information. He would respond,
"Sure, I had to work for my living when I was
young and hardy like yourselves." Day after day
Father Donnelly hammered and chiseled alongside
the well-known contractors, Bishop and Hughes,
who passed most favorably on his skill and used to
say they could not surpass him. The stone tracings
in the circular front window of St. Benedict's
Church at Atchison were done on stone from Father
Donnelly's quarries and with his help.

CHAPTER XVIII.
MORE LETTERS. December, 1879.
Dear Father Dalton, Editor Western Banner:
'OUR repeated invitations to contribute to
the columns of your paper are gratefully
received and I now comply. As you have
suggested for my topic something historical
of the early days of my missionary life I will tell
your readers some of the few things I can now re
call. I was the third duly appointed resident pastor
of Kanzas — it was simply Kanzas — no "City" affix
when I came to Independence. Let me name the
two resident pastors previous to my appointment.
The first was Rev. Father Le Roux, who purchased
the church site. Father Saulnier was the next resi
dent pastor. He remained here only one year. I
was pastor at Independence when he left here.
Archbishop Kenrick wrote me to take back Kanzas
as one of my missions. In 1857 Father Denis Ken
nedy was made resident pastor and a few days after
coming here exchanged with me for Independence.
From that time I was really pastor here. It was
indeed at my suggestion that his Grace raised Kan
zas once again to a parish. While in charge here
I built the Immaculate Conception Church, facing
on what is now Broadway, midway between Elev
enth and Twelfth Streets. The little log church was
erected by Father Le Roux. It was a log structure
15x32 feet with two windows on each side, and an
entrance facing east. It rested on a stone founda
tion. The style of architecture, if it might be so
dignified, was identically like the style of the orig-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 153
inal churches at St. Louis, Missouri, and the ones
at Lexington, Liberty and St. Joseph. They were
really chapels and had no patron saints for many
years. Like the others, it was too small for any
thing resembling a steeple on top, and when I ar
rived it did not even have a cross above the entrance.
I placed a small wooden cross on it. Outside, on
the east side about six or eight feet away and about
two feet back from the line of the front of the
church, was a roughly-shaped belfry built of heavy
supports or beams, nearly a foot in diameter. It
was sixteen feet in height ; rough pine boards made
a roof to screen the bell from the weather and I
suppose to keep the sound of the bell from an up
ward tendency, for its warning notes were intended
to be towards the earth where they would reach
the ears of the people. Resting on the roof of
the belfry was a large cross, out of all proportion
with church and belfry. The bell was a gift from
the first pastor, Father Le Roux, after he left here
and while he was pastor of Cahokia or some little
French settlement opposite St. Louis. This bell I
gave to the Sisters of St. Teresa's Convent. It is
still used to call the Sisters to their various duties.
It also serves the purpose of arousing me from my
slumbers at five o'clock every morning. The sound
and shape of the bell resemble the steamboat bells
on the boats plying the Missouri and Mississippi
Rivers. The walls and flat ceiling of the log church
were plastered with a rough finish. Besides the
Stations of the Cross, there was back of the altar
a painting in oil of Christ Crucified. On the out
side of the small Sanctuary hung two oil paintings,
one of some Saint Bishop, standing, with mitre on
and holding a crozier. On the right-hand side of
the bishop was a true picture of his own mitred
head resting on a platter, this head being the

154 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
bishop's head decapitated. The whole effect was
that the good bishop was in a trance and saw where
his head was soon to be. The picture was of the
Spanish school of art and looked as if it had been
cut out of a large painting. It was loaned the
church by the Chouteau family. The other picture
on the opposite side of the altar was of a martyr
being flagellated. The altar piece, Christ on the
Cross, and the picture of the martyr, were surely
of the realistic school, which was in striking con
trast to the art displayed on the canvas of the
bishop with the head on and off. The history of
these pictures was that they were brought here
from Mexico by some of the traders who traversed
plains and mountains back and forth from Mexico.
They were either purchased or seized from some of
the missions in Mexico, or were quietly taken away
and found a home in Kansas City.
Two rows of unpainted pews lined either side
of the one aisle of the church. A few kneelers were
to be found here and there in front of pews. Some
boards nailed together with a latticed opening in
the center, was the confessional. On week days
Father Saulnier used the church for a school. He
was the teacher. Among other branches, he taught
French and English. My school at Independence
antedated the one at Kansas City a few months.
I had to help me a Miss Mullins, a member of one
of our best Catholic families.
The first historic notice of the log church is
made in the deed of transfer given by Father Le
Roux to Bishop Rosatti of St. Louis. In the deed is
the mention of a small two-room log house. I often
found this hut a convenient place to sit in dur
ing my stay in going and coming from Independ
ence. I usually read my office in the west
room. Other missionary priests would while away
a few hours resting in the east room. The west

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 155
room was comfortable in a rain or in cold weather,
for it had a fireplace and a few kitchen con
veniences. The rooms were too small to be a living
place. It was never Father Le Roux's intention
to make it a residence. I and all the other priests
attending here stayed over night and sometimes
for days in the hospitable dwelling of Mr. and Mrs.
Chouteau, with the Jarboe family, or at the Guinotte
home. Father Le Roux lived with the Chouteaus
during his stay here. It was his home; it was the
home of the Jesuit missionaries from St. Mary's
in the Pottawatomie country. "The priest's home
in early days" is a misnomer. The hut served the
purpose principally of an outside sacristy, con
venient for a sitting place while the priests were
waiting for confessions on Saturdays. The inter
stices between the logs were never properly filled.
In fact, it was impossible to fill them, as the logs
were so uneven and the knot holes so numerous.
The wood was decayed. It had been part of some
hovel somewhere before used here. To the mis
sionary, accustomed to sleeping in the open, the
log cabin would be a misery and would give him
rheumatism. The church and cabin and ten acres were all
given and paid for by Father Le Roux out of his
own funds. He had some private means when he
came here and had no expensive habits. I never
had the pleasure of meeting Father Le Roux, he
was gone before my time. He paid a short visit
to his old parishioners late in 1844 — in September,
after the great flood. He did little missionary work
while here, contenting himself with following up
some Trois Rivieres Catholics who were working
at the various Chouteau agencies, or who were
engaged in hunting and trapping. La Liberte,
Pierre Chouteau, and those who were here in his
day, lauded him for his piety and refinement of

156 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
mind and manner. Father Lutz spent a few days
here in the early spring of 1844. Father Saulnier,
my immediate predecessor, was from Canada,
where he served as pastor near Quebec. The West
did not appeal to him. He was well spoken of,
and my acquaintance with him made me respect
him highly. He had all the enthusiasm of the
French pioneer priest. He opened up new books
of marriages and baptisms. Those records from
the coming of Father Le Roux, some entries made
by Father Lutz and some passing priests, were de
posited for safety in the Chouteau warehouse on
the levee. The records were swept down the
swollen river with the warehouse. A few leaves
with baptism entries were found afterwards in the
Chouteau home and were handed me. The records
made by the Jesuit Fathers were taken home with
them to their mission house at St. Mary's. Fathers
Ward and Stuntebeck, rectors of St. Mary's Col
lege, informed me that the records made here and
taken to St. Mary's are in a good state of preserva
tion, at their flourishing college in Pottawatomie
County. This communication is entirely too long. I
don't write as easily as I used to, and the joints
of my fingers do not work as smoothly as when
I was young. Another letter for next week's Ban
ner. Age has its penalties. Bernard Donnelly.
December, 1879.
Dear Editor:
Let me correct my closing remark in last
week's letter. I said I was old. Give me the Irish
man's privilege of speaking twice, the second time
to correct the first speech. I am not old. I am a
Donnelly. My father died but the other day, and
he was 112 years old. It was an accident that

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 157
killed him or he would be living still.
But to the task you have imposed on me, per
taining to the early days at Kansas City. I often
thought when you would ask me questions about
old times that you meant to make a history of the
information. But now you make me the writer as
you win me over to be the narrator. Who knows?
If you see it worth while you may make me a hero
of a biography.
But to the task you have laid on me: My
memory is full of the heroic sacrifices of the Jesuit
missionaries in these parts. My soul is full of
admiration of the work of God done by those good
men. They certainly imbibed the spirit of their
great founder, St. Ignatius. The greater glory of
God is their aim and their inspiration. St. Ignatius
did not court, does not take, the drone, the coward,
or the brainless. Brain, brawn, and zeal make up
the Jesuit of today. A military fire to do or die
burns within them. They know something about
everything and a great deal about many things.
I read of the Jesuits before I ever saw them. I
found them learned in the sciences and elegant in
the languages. I read of the elaborate plans and
the forty years of deep study with which they pre
pared to enter China and foreign countries. I
heard them tell of their brethren, and others, too,
relate of the heroism and greatness of their mis
sionaries in China and Japan, and the world over.
But I have lived to see them with my own eyes
and I know the zeal and fearlessness of their
members in other days survive to as great extent
in the De Smet, the Eysvogels, the Verreydt, the
Galliand, of Missouri, Kansas and the Rocky
Mountains. They have been an inspiration and
an impetus to me in my territory. They have been
my friends, my advisers, and my models. I could
write for hours of what I know they did in these

158 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
parts. They have been the builders-up of religion
from St. Louis along the Missouri, across the
Rockies to the far-off Pacific Coast. They never
lived here as residents, but their regular visits here
kept religion among the Catholic pioneers fishing
for a livelihood in the rivers and trapping and hunt
ing on the plains and mountains. They never
passed my poor home without visiting me and en
couraging me by word and example. They
cheered me when I was despondent, and they more
than once used their credit and their own scanty
means when I was out of pocket and hungry. This
poor tribute does not do ample justice to the debt
I owe them. They built up the Faith here and
organized the church and made life possible for
the secular priests. When Kansas City began to
build up parishes, I more than once wrote the su
periors in St. Louis to start a church here. They
told me they could not come. The church's per
manency will never be assured until the Jesuits
come back to this, the scene of their early efforts.
I have often prayed to live to see a church and a
college here under their administration. You, the
young editor, are but a boy in years — you will see
your teachers of St. Louis University your co-
laborers here. The Jesuits, the Eysvogels, Ver-
reydt, De Smet, etc., baptized, married and
preached here. So did Verhaegen, Hoecken,
Aelen, and many others of the Society.
The Lazarist Fathers, my old professors at
the Barrens, hunted the stray Catholic from the
Barrens to the Territory and to Texas. Father
Tom Burke and another priest whose name I can
not recall, were requested by the bishop to traverse
west Missouri and to report to him where he would
be justified in opening up missions for diocesan
priests. They left the Barrens in the year 1845
on horseback to go to the extreme southwest por-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 159
tion of Missouri. They could find but few grow
ing districts where a priest could live. The scat
tered inhabitants here and there were Protestants
from Kentucky and Tennessee. At times they
came across a Catholic who was so used to living
away from priest and church that he expressed
himself indifferent to the coming of one of his
clergymen. He feared the priest's presence would
arouse the bigotry of the neighbors. Deepwater,
one of the Jesuit missions, was a promising loca
tion. The Catholics were made up exclusively of
a German colony and they were well contented
with the services of Jesuits from St. Mary's, and
afterwards from the mission at Osage under the
supervision of Father Schoenmacher. Independ
ence looked well and promised a future. The next
village that met their eyes was Kanzas on the Kan
zas and Missouri Rivers. They returned to St.
Louis after my arrival. I was raised to the priest
hood in 1845. I requested the Bishop to permit
me to visit the pastor of Old Mines for a few
days before sending me on my mission. He kindly
granted the request. That very day I started for
Old Mines. I borrowed a horse from a friend in
St. Louis and rode there. The next day after my
arrival a letter was handed me from his Grace, to
go without delay and open up a parish at Inde
pendence. I mounted my horse and returned to
St. Louis, called on the bishop (he was not made
archbishop until 1847) and with my letter of ap
pointment I hurried to take the steamboat which
left St. Louis that afternoon at four o'clock. I
found the boat loaded with freight and over two
hundred passengers. Some of them were heading
for California, others were going anywhere west
to grow up with the country. Gamblers, who plied
their avocation on every boat heading north, south
and west from St. Louis, were on board. They

160 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
were the most prosperous-looking passengers on
the boat. They could be found at the long tables
on the upper cabin all day except while meals were
being served. After supper they resumed their
games at the tables and played late into the night
and possibly early in the morning. They were
flashily dressed with a great display of watch
chains, and their finger rings were valuable with
settings of diamonds. They were always quiet and
well behaved. They evidently did not seek out
their victims, for men flocked to the cleared tables
without invitation. If there were any losers, and
there undoubtedly were, the losers were game and
kept quiet. After seven days we touched the land
ing at Kanzas. Although we were impeded in our
progress by sand bars three different times, the
trip consumed the average time.
I found Father Burke awaiting my arrival,
for he knew a priest was coming. I carried a let
ter of introduction to Messrs. Chouteau and Jarboe,
Catholic merchants on the levee. Independence
was my destination. Father Burke, his companion
and I procured the loan of a horse through the
kindness of the two merchants and in less than
three hours from my arrival were on our way to
my new home. We dismounted at a livery stable
and handed over our steeds to the care of the man
in charge. I then faced a little hotel or boarding
house where we registered. That evening I was
introduced to three different Catholic families,
among them Mr. Davy and his sons and their
wives. Mr. Davy was a very wealthy merchant
and later one of my most generous parishioners.
They all looked at me as if in astonishment: A
priest to reside in Independence? Why, they had
been satisfactorily attended occasionally by the
Jesuits. They hardly believed a pastor could get
a support.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 161
A few days, and I was nicely ensconced in a
well-furnished room in the house of a newcomer
to Independence, a Catholic, named Gilson, from
St. Louis. A town was growing on the river a few miles
away which was a "feeder" and landing place for
Independence. The people told me that a rivalry
for future greatness was growing between Inde
pendence and Kanzas here and in the county.
I found less than twenty families in the town
and immediately surrounding farms. But there
was a vast territory from here to the end of my
charge. I was told to visit at intervals from the
Kaw to Arkansas. There was church property here
willed to Independence by Bishop Rosatti. I finally,
after many appeals, was able to purchase an aban
doned carpenter shop for a church. When I had
the little church ready to occupy — it was two feet
longer than the church given by Father Le Roux
at Kanzas — I put up a two-room cottage for my
self. I used the church for a school until I could
erect the one-story school house. As I could not
give all my time to Independence, I hired a teacher,
Miss Mullins, who was very competent.
Some years later I discovered great dissatis
faction among the Catholics at Kansas City. The
church building did not suit them and the city was
growing away from it. For the second time they
petitioned the archbishop to sell the ten-acre lot
and the church erected by Father Le Roux and
put the price in a fifty-foot lot and unused build
ing. I offered a compromise. I suggested that
they rent an empty one-story frame house near
what is now Cherry and Second Streets. This
quieted them. We temporarily closed the log church
and had services in the rented building.
When I saw my appeals meeting a response, I
began the brick building on the east line of the

162 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
property facing Broadway. We had the corner
stone laid on the first Sunday of May, 1856. The
Definition and Promulgation of the Doctrine of the
Immaculate Conception gave a happy and timely
name for the new church. It was named the
Immaculate Conception Church. The name St.
Francis Regis was not given by Father Le Roux
to the log church. Father Le Roux never gave it
a patron. It was called by him and his people the
log church; that is the title given in his descrip
tion when he included it in his deed to the bishop
of St. Louis. The name of St. Francis Regis was
given it by Father De Smet when the mission was
handed over to the Jesuits. Father De Smet on
his way from the far West stopped over with me
for a few days. I met him at the Kanzas City
levee. After a short visit at the home of the Chou
teau family we rode up the hills to the church site.
It was while sitting in the little church cottage
that he told me about the origin of its name. He
smiled as he related that the thought occurred to
him that the chapel needed a patron and he could
not think of a better saint to watch over its des
tinies, so he christened it St. Francis Regis. He
said he informed the bishop of St. Louis and the
Vice-Provincial, who both said, "Now the church
is complete — it has a name and a good one."
Westport was always a concern of mine. I
knew it when it was a waiting place for the thou
sands going southwest to Santa Fe, and to the
mountains, and the gold fields of California, and
Pike's Peak. Like Independence, Westport was a
plateau. It was higher than the hills back of Kan
sas City. But I presume Nature had done too much
for Westport and left a great deal for the people
to do at Kansas City. Westport is no larger today
than it was in the '50s and '40s. The only future
I see for it is that Kansas City will throw its arms

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 163
around it in its strides southward and eastward
and annex it. It will make a beautiful residence
district for the coming giant city of the West.
The Jesuits said Mass out at Westport, as did many
priests traveling to the new diocese of Santa Fe.
Masses were usually said in tents, occasionally in
the home of Mr. Dillon. Westport was for many
years a pleasant resting place for the priests and
people awaiting Uncle Sam's arrival to take them
under his protection as they wandered through the
country of hostile enemies. It was only a few years
ago that Bishop Lamy of Santa Fe, while traveling
in a cavalcade of ox-carts and on ponies, was at
tacked by the Indians. He had with him eight or
ten young priests, and a number of Sisters of Char
ity from Cincinnati, going to open up schools. The
bishop had had experience of what might happen
and made provision for the possible contingency.
He had purchased shotguns and ammunition at
Cincinnati. While he waited at Westport he prac
ticed shooting with his young clerical friends. He
told them what would likely come. "The Indians
will like you better if you stand your ground and
shoot back. If you run away they will follow and
shoot you sure." The Indians did attack them.
The bishop formed the wagons into breastworks
and did some straight shooting, and finally sent
the Indians flying to their tents and hiding places.
One of the young Sisters died on the battlefield.
She was suffering from chronic heart disease and
dropped dead at the first volley.
There never was a chapel or church at West-
port, and the two occasions I said Mass there I
officiated in the home of Mr. Dillon, a local mer
chant in the harness business. The Archbishop of
Santa Fe and Bishop Maschboeuf, his former Vicar-
General, now Bishop of Denver, and the priests
escorting them said Mass under tents. They made

164 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
the same use of them frequently as they journeyed
home. On one occasion I visited the bishop of
Santa Fe as he tarried at Westport. He had with
him four elegantly attired priests who left their
native France to do missionary work in New Mex
ico. I observed them going about in the best ap
parel of Paris. They wore silk stockings and costly
leggings. Their coats were of rich material and
their hats were high and of the latest New York
style. Their rest here gave them a chance to
parade in their very best. It was their last chance.
Perhaps it was the shine of their hats and the
richness of their attire that drove the Indians to
make the murderous attack. Many a man I saw
approaching the far West dressed in a metropoli
tan's finest, who in a little while was glad to wear
the red shirt and belt and leather pantaloons.
I purchased in my own name the first piece
of property in Westport intended for church pur
poses. I have deeded it over to the archbishop.
On this property is a one-story building occupied
as a residence. The parlor is used for a chanel on
Sundays for saying Mass. I witnessed myself, and
every priest who ever officiated there on Sunday
tells me, that the little room is never filled. I am
confident a church, probably churches, will dot the
grown-up Westport. Kansas City has to grow; its
natural and sure tendency will be to the south.
Kansas City will make a ward or many wards out
of Westport. _ Father Halpin was an ex-Jesuit who left the
Society and was appointed my assistant. He took
the lay of the land and soon went to St. Louis and
came back pastor of a new parish on the east
of Main Street — St. Patrick's. Father Archer suc
ceeded him, and then came Father Dunn. The
first site of the new St. Patrick's was sold and a
new and more desirable one selected. I had the

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 165
honor of laying the cornerstone on the new site.
I laid the cornerstone of the new church and mon
astery of the Redemptorists, out near Westport,
also the cornerstone of the new and spacious orphan
asylum. The Annunciation Parish was started by
its present young pastor on the first Sunday of
July, 1872. A hospital on Seventh and Prospect
has just been opened. A large graveyard is bought
and paid for and has been in use for nearly two
years. People say it is too far out. The time
will come when they will say Mount St. Mary's
Cemetery is too far inside the limits, that it should
be closed and another one procured. I will not live
to see it. Kansas City in church and civic pros
pects has a wonderful future.
My fingers are getting stiff from writing and
I am becoming garrulous, even if I am playing
historian. Yours Anon,
B. Donnelly.
THIRD LETTER OF FATHER DONNELLY.
Rev. Editor:
It may be of interest to your readers and help
ful to the future historian of the Church in and
around Kansas City to give the names of the
priests who have officiated at Westport. Father
Gross, the first pastor of Sts. Peter and Paul's
Church, attended Westport every second Sunday.
He did so at the order of the archbishop. In fact
he made his home out there for a few weeks but
did his Sunday work at Kansas City, saying Mass
here for his people and giving them opportunity
to receive the Sacraments. Father Muehlsiepen,
the Vicar General for the Germans in the St. Louis
archiepiscopal see, did not approve of his living
at Westport and came here and induced him to
return to Kansas City. Father Halpin's assistant

166 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
at St. Patrick's then said Mass at Westport for a
few months, when Father Michael Walsh of St.
Louis was appointed resident pastor. He re
mained in charge for six months. He organized
the congregation and had excavations for a church
50x120 feet when he was called back to St. Louis
to assist my old friend, Father Henry of St. Law
rence O'Toole's parish. The successor to Father
Walsh was Father James Douherty, who for some
little time had been assistant to Father Hennessy
at St. Joseph. On the consecration of the latter
as Bishop Hennessy of Dubuque, he became pastor.
When St. Joseph was made a see Father Douherty
acted as rector for a few months. He soon re
quested that he be allowed to return to the arch
diocese. It was then he came to Westport. He
started out by reducing the size of the contem
plated church at Westport. While living here he
accepted my hospitality. By assiduous efforts he
raised considerable money collecting along the
Fort Scott Railroad among the men working on its
construction. He finished the walls and roof of
the church. On the tenth of January, 1872, he
was made pastor of the Annunciation Church in
St. Louis. He reported a debt on the Westport
Church of $3,500.00 — another weight placed on
my shoulders. I had bought and paid for the
Westport Church property myself and now the
creditors looked to me to pay this debt. As the
archbishop refused to send another pastor there I
felt this new obligation was mine and assumed it.
After repeated letters to St. Louis I was told that
the young pastor of the Annunciation Church in
the West Bottoms would be given an assistant who
would at least say Mass every Sunday at Westport.
By way of digression let me say that the Annun
ciation pastor, our editor of the Banner, was liv
ing on Liberty Street in a room 8x10. He divided

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 167
up with his assistant, and had at least the comfort
of youth and health and pluck. His assistant was
Father Michael McKin, many years his senior and
partly broken in health. We three formed a com
bination and went soliciting along the railroads
and among some of the well to do people of Kan
sas City. In a little while we had the debt down
to $2,500.00. I then paid off that sum, leaving
me little of my savings. After Father McKin left
here to become the first pastor of Joplin, another
assistant alternated with his rector, Father Dalton,
in visiting Westport. When in 1874 Father Dal
ton gave up the Westport charge, it was handed
over to Father Dunn at St. Patrick's. His assistant,
Father Cooney, was regular in his work there.
Once more and for the last time it was decided
Westport was too far to work in, and its connec
tion with Kansas City ceased. All this time, the
new church was untenanted. Father Douherty
left it without doors, windows or floors, so Mass
was always said in the long-drawn-out one-story
frame building. I repeat, Westport will yet be
heard from. The Redemptorist Fathers are not
far away. They have opened up their convenient
chapel for Westport and the surrounding territory.
When the Redemptorists came here it was with the
understanding that their time and their buildings
would be solely for the education and training of
young men for their congregation. Their grounds
are large and afford health and recreation for
their evergrowing number of young students and
professors. The advance of civic progress will in
a while demand a more secluded site for the novi
tiate and house of studies and their work will be the
labor of a great parish.
For thirty-five years I have found good diges
tion and plenty to do inside the lines of home and
parochial duty. My farthest trip in all this time

168 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
was to journey to Quincy to the Monastery of the
Franciscan Fathers where there was a reunion of
my classmates at the Barrens, and when the few
of us left celebrated our Silver Jubilee. Just three
responded to the call — every one of the others
had gone to his last home. I reached Quincy about
eight o'clock in the morning and saying farewell
to my two old comrades I left for Kansas City at
seven o'clock that same evening. I attended two
annual retreats. I was present at the consecration
of Father Ryan as Bishop Co-adjutor to Arch
bishop Kenrick. Three times I was present at the
retreats of the priests of the St. Louis diocese in
the house of my old professors, the Lazarist
Fathers, in the Church of St. Vincent de Paul.
During those early years I did not hug the com
forts of my little cabins here and at Independence.
Three times on horseback I traversed the almost
solitary country from Jackson County to the
Arkansas line. I did not find many Catholics on
those trips, and they, as a body, seemed to have
grown cold in the Faith. I have learned that
Kansas City will soon be the home of a bishop. A
passing bishop going home from St. Louis where
the bishops of the Province had gathered to lay
out a new diocese showed me the map of the new
see. Except for Father Hammil's parish and
Sedalia and the mission on the eastern side of the
contemplated diocese, my mission covers the area
of the future bishop and his priests.
After three complete circuits of my missionary
field I grew serious and began to feel that if life
is worth living a man ought to take care of his
health, that long journeys with very indifferent
results, if any, and days and nights of exposure to
the weather and sleeping on the highways with
my saddle for a pillow were not good for men of
my increasing years. The gentle pastor of Deep-

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 169
water, and the good-natured Father Hammil, and
Father Walsh of Jefferson City, kindly relieved
me of any more such endurances. I had plenty
to do at Kansas City and Independence.
Although a poor visitor myself I had the ex
treme pleasure of entertaining many persons. The
great Senator Benton did me the honor of a call
while in Independence. Governor Gilpin who in
vited the Senator to Jackson County and who lis
tened to his predictions of Kansas City's certain
greatness, was my neighbor in Independence. He
was a man of culture, well read in the Latin and
Greek classics. He spoke French fluently and had
traveled abroad extensively. He lived in the West
and loved its plains and mountains. He predicted
that the Territory of Kanzas which fed thousands
and thousands of buffaloes and other wild animals
would yet feed and make rich thousands of farm
ers and commercial men. He climbed the moun
tains of Colorado before the gold mines of Pike's
Peak were opened up, and he wrote of the healing
balmy climate of that country, advertising it
everywhere. He afterwards held a position of
honor under the government in that mountain land
before it became a state. No man before or since
predicted so lavishly of Kansas City. Many an
evening and late in the night he visited me in my
humble home and I returned his calls. His well
stocked library was at my disposal and from its
shelves I conned much useful lore and renewed my
acquaintance with many loved authors. General
Harney, when the quiet of peace would permit it,
would turn his face to his St. Louis home, always
dropping in to see me and tell me about the In
dians, and keep me posted on the politics of Wash
ington, and the country at large. He was a man
of commanding figure, over six feet four inches
tall. He was the ranking officer in the army close

170 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
to General Scott. He knew the Civil War was com
ing and regretted it very much J last saw him
after President Lincoln ordered him to St. Louis.
Senator Lane of Kansas was my friend, as was
General Curtis, and good General "Pap" Price. I
learned much about the war when it was in pro
gress from those men. I was on the battlefield of
Westport during three days of conflict. They al
lowed me all the privileges of the scene of carn
age. I was the chaplain on both sides, with writ
ten permission to visit their wounded and help
bury their dead. I found hospitals in Westport,
Independence and Kansas City for the wounded in
the homes of the kindly people of those little
towns. Archbishop Kenrick visited me when he
came for confirmation. Once too, when he called
on Father Meurs at Glasgow, and when he dedi
cated the new Cathedral at Leavenworth. Bishop
Barron paid me the courtesy of a two days' visit
on his way to St. Mary's mission, and once when
he confirmed in the old log church. He was a very
learned man, a priest of Philadelphia, and suc
ceeded Peter Richard Kenrick as rector and pro
fessor of theology in the seminary at Philadelphia.
He was consecrated Bishop of Liberia. His sojourn
there impaired his health, and he returned to the
United States on his resignation. He aided Bishop
Francis P. Kenrick in his laborious work in Penn
sylvania. He then came to St. Louis where he did
the work of an assistant bishop, doing all the visita
tions and confirmations outside that city. He paid
visits to the Jesuit missions at Kickapoo, near
Leavenworth, to St. Mary's, and southeast Kansas.
He died of yellow fever while helping Bishop Gart-
land in the South. One of my dearest friends and
visitors was James Duggan, afterwards Bishop of
Chicago, and previous to that coadjutor bishop of
St. Louis. For a few years before his ordination

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 171
as a priest he spent his vacations with me. He
would bring his gun with him and day after day
would traverse the neighboring hills and plains in
search of fowl. He was a trained shot and kept
my larder filled with the result of his markman-
ship. He was a handsome, intelligent young man.
His trips West were a recreation that the physi
cians of St. Louis prescribed for him. Although
athletic in walking, running and jumping, there
was a latent infirmity that afterwards made him
an invalid. Many a day I walked to the steamboat land
ing to shake the hands of Captain Chouteau and
Captain La Barge. Bishop Miege, S. J., the first
resident Bishop in Kansas, was a typical Indian
missionary, a man of letters, with a gentle, kindly
heart. He resigned his high honors to go back to
his Jesuit society. The real old-fashioned latch,
the only protection and means of opening and clos
ing my front door, responded to the touch of com
ing and going Fathers from West and North. I
had the pleasure of welcoming the first Benedic
tines on their way to Kansas, and took the liberty
of telling them their ultimate home would be
Atchison. Let me tell you, my dear editor, this thing of
writing so long and cudgelling my memory is no
easy job, besides you know the frost of other days
has made the joints of my fingers stiff, almost
numb. God bless your paper, the Banner, and
God bless you for giving me a chance to live with
fiiends of other days. Anon, B. Donnelly.

CHAPTER XIX.
FATHER DONNELLY, THE MAN.

XN stature Father Donnelly stood about five
feet six inches tall. His features were
strong and prominent and his complexion
in health ruddy. His shoulders were un
usually wide and his frame well knitted, showing
great physical strength. He was a very counter
part in physical structure of his friend, Father
De Smet. It is said of Father De Smet that when
a young man in the novitiate near St. Charles the
work he did in lifting and carrying on his shoul
ders trunks and limbs of trees would equal what
we read in legendary lore of giants, or what we
see done today in circuses and shows by the strong
man. But the strong man, the athlete of today, is
old and broken at thirty-five years. Father Don
nelly, like Father De Smet, did not break or bend
under his great feats, and those feats were not at
long intervals, but every little while. Father Don
nelly would take his share at lifting or moving
large slabs of stone, and always insisted that he
should be alone on his side of the stone. His awk
wardness on horseback as he rode the first time
from Kansas City Landing to Independence soon
disappeared. He in a short while mastered his
horse and many a time offered his services to break
in unruly and bucking animals unused to saddle or
harness. He often mounted on strong- jawed west
ern horses and would cry out a dare to wager that
the beast would not dislodge his tall stove-pipe hat.
That hat and Father seemed inseparable. He wore
it in all weathers and everywhere except in the
Sanctuary and on the church grounds. But even
then while preaching he would sometimes have the

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 173
hat brought to him and would hold it in his right
hand as he emphasized his remarks or gesticulated.
He was gifted with a wonderful force of character
and aggressive to a remarkable degree. He had
all his faculties under perfect control.
His daily walks were long and uninterrupted
except to speak to some passerby about the weather
or prospects of the coming greatness of the city
or country. The man digging in the streets or the
foundations of buildings, or in the field, would
attract him as the magnet does the steel. He had
to view and suggest how the workman might im
prove his style or method of handling shovel or
pick. He would often take the tool from the labor
er's hand and give him a demonstration of how
speed and efficiency might result. A house in
course of erection would make him go out of his
way. The materials would be carefully examined,
the price of the edifice would be discussed, and
then the history of the original purchase of the
property and the various transfers from the gov
ernment ownership. The civil engineer would as
sert itself in him and he would step off the front
and rear of the property and wind up by telling
the square yards in it, and the cubic feet of the
dislodged earth. He found his way regularly to
where a hill impeded a projected street and the
next man he met would have to listen to the time
it would take to tear down the hill and what it
would cost to do so, the number of dirt wagons it
would fill and the time required by a given number
of laborers to do the work. He was personally
acquainted with every contractor, many of them
had secured their contracts through his influence
with the city officials, and the very men swinging
the picks and shoveling were brought here by him.
As those men were all Catholics and his parish
ioners he rounded his conversation by advising

174 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
them about their religious duties and with em
phasis would tell them, "My men, your greatest
danger is strong drink and your only chance of
success in life is to keep out of saloons." When
he heard that any of them were indulging too much,
he would urge them to take Father Mathew's pledge
immediately. He would remove his hat, order the
men to uncover and lift their hands and repeat
the words of the temperance pledge. Then he
would take their names and homes or boarding
places, and hasten to tell the employer that the poor
fellows would be straight for the future. Many
a time he would appear at some shop or place where
weak men were laboring, take their week's wage
from them and bring it to their wives and families,
or put it away for them in some secure bank. He
did not wait for Sunday to teach his people indus
try and saving habits, but did his preaching when
ever he met them. He was always moving around
where good might be done. He never tired of
teaching a love for the foreigner's new country;
he was forever extolling the advantages of Amer
ica. "Help your poor friends in dear old Ireland,
induce them to come here, and talk less and dream
less of the old country, and never tire of looking
up the opportunities before you in the broad fields
of America. You were farmers in Ireland, and
keep your eyes on your first trade; put something
by and become farmers. The country life in Amer
ica is ideal." He sought out opportunities to pur
chase farms and would tell the cost price, as well
as what was the most productive land. Jackson
County was his first choice, but the new agricul
tural country over in Kansas was good and very
cheap. He induced a colony of new arrivals here
to purchase a large district near the Missouri River
where they flourished and grew rich. He would
ride over to see them occasionally and encourage

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 175
and advise them as to the newest and best methods
of farm production. That colony was ever after
wards thanking him, and in the great procession
which followed his remains to St. Mary's Cem
etery they formed a large and conspicuous part,
they swelled the mourning ranks.
Father Donnelly was always loyal to the land
of his forefathers. He loved its scenery, he would
picture its rivers, its many streams of clear water,
its beautiful lakes. Its soil, he ever maintained,
was unequaled the world over. But the blight of
tyranny hung over Ireland. The prospects of a
Free Ireland did not appear promising if at all
possible. He was very matter-of-fact and would
reason that it is better to live untrammeled in
America and keep living than to die trying to free
Ireland. He said on one public occasion that it was
more praiseworthy and more sensible to free Ire
land by inducing its people to come in a body to
America than to remain in suffering and in want
fighting against the mighty odds and the infernal
cruelty of the English Government. "Fate," he
would continue, "is as relentlessly cruel to Ireland
as is its brutish oppressor. Don't go to Heaven
as a martyr — come to America, and when you die
go to God as a saint. The fevers and the famines
and the weather as well are all against our Mother
land." In the '70s and '80s Ireland was visited with
frequent loss of crops, and appeals to America were
met by generous response.
Such sentiments, freely and boldly expressed,
brought forth many criticisms and made many of
his countrymen think of Father Donnelly as one
who did not love his native land. "My native land
was not so kind to me as I am helpful to it," he
would reply. He seems to have sided with the
Young Irelands of 1847. Some of the leaders were
of his time and age. He sent liberally in answer

176 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
to the appeals made in America. He lived to call
the results of the uprising a "fizzle" — not even
worth the money America alone sent to its help
and success. Before that time and ever after, he
was a great admirer of Daniel O'Connell and his
methods of peaceful protest. When the Fenians'
fight for the freedom of Ireland was heralded he
turned a deaf ear, and by way of change, some
times a very bitter tongue against England and the
Fenians. All new efforts against England for Ire
land's good, down to the Parnell Movement, were
looked at askance and with indifference. He openly
and, in some New York correspondence, in many
letters said unfriendly things against the Fenian
agitators. "They are," he writes, in the New York
Times, "the most modern. Their end will be the
usual fight on each other. Tell the Irish to come
over and go to work and grow up with this coun
try." He certainly was true to this principle. No
man, at least west of the Ohio, did so much in
inducing his countrymen to leave home for our
shores. A firm of Irishmen in St. Louis, the
O'Brien Brothers, kept the Missouri Pacific Rail
road growing westward by supplying Irish laborers.
They sent Father Donnelly a New Year's gift in
1857 and wrote to him and had printed in the St.
Louis Republic about the same time, that Father
Donnelly induced more Irishmen to come from Ire
land to Missouri than they themselves had.

CHAPTER XX.
HIS LIBRARY.

HONG before Father Donnelly left his native
land never to return he was conversant
with American history and geography. He
had on his person a copy of the Constitu
tion of the United States. He purchased it in Ire
land on his first visit to Dublin when he was a
young student. It was printed at Boston in the
year 1816. He had read it and reread it until he
knew it by heart. His reading made him familiar
with the lives of Washington and the signers of
the Declaration of Independence, also the biog
raphies of American jurists, generals and states
men. Lincoln, Douglas, Clay, Calhoun, and Benton
he greatly admired and could discuss their sayings
and repeat passages from their speeches. The his
tory of the various states from the Pilgrim landing
to the new state of Kansas was at the tips of his
fingers. He put America first among the nations.
It was his new, his beloved country. He would
on every possible occasion urge his countrymen to
love their new country and be true to it.
Father Donnelly carried a greater supply of
useful and high-grade knowledge in his later years
than in younger days, for he was always adding
to his store and trying never to forget by con
stantly keeping up an acquaintance with everything
new in science, history and art. Protoplasms, neb
ular theories, new and startling ventures in the
field of philosophy, spiritism, all that the best mag
azines of the '60s and '70s and the newest books in
literature were sending forth, were conned over,
reread and pondered. He believed in security first
and as a lever to keep himself properly balanced

178 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
he kept at his elbow his dear old St. Thomas, and
Kenrick's, Gury's, and Perrone's theologies. When
treatise after treatise on ontology fell under the
scrutinizing eye of Rome he would say, "I wish the
Holy Father would cut out all philosophical class-
books in our schools and put in their stead St.
Thomas of Aquin." His prayer was heard, but his
hearing was closed in death a little while before.
In literature he loved Moore and quoted from him
as he did from Virgil and Horace. The American
poets were dear to his heart and frequently on his
lips. Bishop Martin Spalding he believed sur
passed all the Church writers in America, for his
writings appealed to the people and were educa
tional. The Boston Pilot was a weekly visitor in
his home and its columns held many a contribution
by him. But the Catholic editors he rated the high
est were Dr. Brownson, McMaster of the Freeman's
Journal and Father Phelan of the Western Watch
man. He often found fault with them, but he
would amend his criticisms in a moment by saying,
"They are par excellence the bravest and ablest
defenders of the Church in America."
In the pulpit Father Donnelly excelled as a
plain, thorough expositor of the Gospels. He evi
dently prepared himself for his Sunday sermons.
His language was simple and his words were short
and Anglo-Saxon. He carefully avoided the verbi
age of the Irish sermon books. "It's not English
at all, but a turning of words from Latin to English
endings. Avoid the books of sermons from abroad ;
they have long words by men who finished their
English courses in Spain, Rome, Douay, and Lou
vain. The adults of your parish do not know the
meaning of these words and the younger genera
tion will think you are speaking a foreign tongue.
Study, young man, the works of Addison and Steele.
Keep away from the un-English translations from

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 179
the French and Spanish done by French and Span
ish writers, they will injure your style of expres
sion and fall upon the unwilling and unreceptive
ears of the American listeners."
In his spiritual devotions Father Donnelly was
regular and frequent. He sought the inside of the
railing of the Sanctuary to pray his daily rosary,
and he might be found any forenoon at ten o'clock
reciting the parts of his office and again at six
p. m. It was only when the weather was too cold
that he turned from the Sanctuary to the slight
comfort of his sitting-room. The church stove was
never lighted except on Sundays and holy days of
obligation. No church in Kansas City up to Father
Donnelly's demise ever had a fire on week days.
Steam, hot water, hot air furnaces, were unknown
outside of St. Louis, and few of the churches there
had the comfort of heat except on Sunday. While
in his study and within the church property, and
when not in his quarry or brickyard nearby, he
might be seen with cassock and beretta, or, as he
persistently called it, bonicari — he remembered that
name from his seminary days. In ceremonies of
the Sanctuary he was most tenacious of his train
ing at the Barrens. His Italian and French pro
fessors there were his models in many ways. "Were
there no other priests there in your day?" he was
asked. "Oh, yes, there were, but they were usually
busy on the outside. They figured in the long sick
calls and in parish work." The Vincentians' mis
sions went from Perry County, Missouri, down
through the vast Territory and State of Texas.
This would make him reminiscent, and he would
recount the hardships and apostolic zeal of the old
professors and priests of the Barrens. He put
them on a par with the Jesuits of the West. "But
the great and tireless Jesuits died in their Society.
The Lazarists were losing their ablest men in the

180 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
sciences and the most zealous in the missions, by
promotion to the mitre. They never sought the
honors of the episcopate — they were forced on them
by the Holy See. But the Jesuits in the case of
De Smet, when he was selected by Rome on one or
two occasions for the mitre, worked matters with
the Propaganda at Rome to retain him." Bishops
Odin, Rosatti, Dominec, Lynch, Ryan, and Timon,
strong men, all, were Lazarists. Miege of Leaven
worth was a Jesuit. He filled his high position
with honor and apostolic zeal, but his home priests
were Jesuits, and the Jesuit rule and Jesuit atmos
phere permeating his episcopal residence made one
imagine he was within a Jesuit community house.
In time, after doing his work well, Bishop Miege
doffed the mitre and in black cassock and plain
beretta lived for years back in the Society of Jesus.
Between his residence near Broadway and
westward to what is today Washington Avenue,
Father Donnelly cultivated peach, apple and cherry
trees. Strawberries and other small fruits grew
luxuriantly along the outskirts of the property.
When the season had ripened the fruit he shared
the luscious products with the Sisters of St. Joseph.
Then he would meet the neighbors' children and
invite them to come into his garden, and on stated
days and hours, and under his eyes, fill themselves.
"Take home some to your parents and don't injure
the trees by breaking the limbs." How often, in
these after years, one may hear lawyers, doctors,
and business men tell of the treats Father Donnelly
gave them in their boyhood days !
He loved to stop and converse with children,
and how fatherly he would place his hand on their
heads and bid them be good, and bless their futures.
When he daily visited his school rooms it was to
encourage the pupils and to arouse their ambition
to be good and useful citizens. He was impatient

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 181
and unwilling to hear from the teachers the pranks
and faults of the scholars. It would cut his visit
short if complaints came from the teacher's lips.
"That will do, never mind, you were once children
and you are good now," he would say, as he has
tened down to the door. Little ones would rush
from their homes to get his benevolent smile and
good word as he passed along. He believed candy
and cakes were good diet for the children and out
of his bulging pockets he distributed to his loved
little chums. Occasionally he went from one school
house to another on his morning stroll. It was
never to examine or puzzle the young minds with
questions, so he never interfered with the teacher's
method or order. He had been a teacher himself
and he had confidence in the teacher and would
not injure his standing in his own realm by ques
tion or advice.
Two-thirty o'clock every Saturday afternoon
and on the days before solemn feasts found him
in the confessional where he remained until the
supper hour, then back again until the last person
left for home; and on Sundays before the Masses
he resumed his place as confessor. He said his
two Masses at convenient hours. On the altar he
was graceful and exact in every point of the ritual.
His devotion to the sick was marked. He hurried
to the bedside of the patient and his sympathy for
the sufferer was that of a father. He cheered and,
when needed, encouraged. As death approached,
his visits were more frequent and his prayers by
the bedside of the dying were eloquent of hope
and pleading. Almost from his arrival and while resident
pastor of Independence, Father Donnelly saw with
the growth of southwest Missouri the certainty of
a bishop's see, and that the location of that see
would be Kansas City. Early in 1870 he felt that

182 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
the time was ripe for at least an agitation for the
new diocese. Father Donnelly was not given to
letter writing as a habit; in fact, he called "cacoe-
thes scribendi" a mania. But he would and did
write letters when there was a need, and one was
at hand. At that time the Province of St. Louis
embraced Santa Fe, Denver, Omaha, St. Paul,
Dubuque, Milwaukee, Chicago, Alton, Green Bay,
Leavenworth and Nashville. He began a series
of letters to the archbishop and everyone of the
suffragans. It was indeed a series, for he wrote
at intervals of three months for five years. Before
the result was accomplished the whole Province
knew that there was a Kansas City and a South
west Missouri. The various Bishops became quite
well acquainted with Father Donnelly's style of
chirography and finally yielded to his cogent rea
sons. The question of a new bishop at Kansas City
was acted on favorably at a meeting of the bishops
in His Grace's residence in 1879. Three names of
deserving priests were sent to Rome. It was said
the action was unanimous. Two rather unusual
occurences followed the gathering of the bishops.
One was that the priests of Milwaukee learned the
names on the Terna, and presuming that they had
as much right to divulge the choice of the bishops
as had the bishop who gave them the information,
made it public; the other was that another of the
bishops had changed his mind about the need, yes,
the justice of placing two bishops in Western Mis
souri. This bishop visited Kansas City, called on
Father Donnelly, and went with him to St. Teresa's
Academy to look at a map of Missouri in one of
the classrooms. He marked out a large area of
the contemplated diocese where there were no
Catholics at all. He seemed well acquainted with
the population of the little cities and the difficul
ties of the few priests to maintain themselves.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 183
"Why, St. Joseph is too small territorially, and too
meager in point of Catholics, for a diocese. To
erect another diocese in this part of Missouri would
be an injustice to St. Joseph and would make two
bishops suffer almost for want instead of one, as
is the case now." He said he was on his way to
Rome, and in a few days started. In the course of
a year Rome was heard from. The Bishop of St.
Joseph was transferred to Kansas City and St.
Joseph was made tributary to the city on the Kaw.
Father Donnelly lived to hear the decision of
Rome. His ambition for Kansas City's recognition
was attained.

CHAPTER XXI.
FATHER DONNELLY ATTENDS A BANQUET.

fi

'ATHER DONNELLY was not a regular
correspondent among his brothers of the
ministry. He seldom visited them and
they rarely found an excuse to visit the
little unkept city on the Kaw. His aloofness gained
him the name of being a recluse and lacking in
hospitality. In St. Louis where clergymen were
weighed and measured for a standing, Father Don
nelly was heard of only through the young assist
ants who had done their bit under his rigorous
rules. The picture they painted of him would
hardly come up to the colorful and cheerful can
vasses of a Leonardo da Vinci! They belonged
to the school that preceded the great artists of the
golden Florentine days. They depicted him in
sombre and unresponsive hues. The daily break
fasts of gruel, the slightly better dinners, the sup
pers with meat but once a week, and that a boiled
chicken, reduced their weight and depressed their
spirits. They soon tired of the mountain air which
wafted over the sandy plains of Kanzas. Well,
their stay with Father Donnelly was usually short,
and they petitioned a return to St. Louis and never
more of the West if they could help it. They drew
for their inquirers a portrait of a man unkept in
dress, severe in manner, and critical of youth, who
harnessed his curates down to the routine of their
clerical duties. Simply that and nothing more. He
provided them a comfortable room on a plot of
ground six hundred feet or more from the church,
where he paid them a morning visit, but let it be
known that they were not by Western courtesy ex
pected to return it.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 185
When Westport was a mission tributary to
Father Donnelly's parish his assistant was per
mitted to say Mass there on Sundays and Holydays
of obligation. It was "within walking distance."
up against a gradual elevation to a high level from
which the country around could be viewed. The
pastors who had the services of these young men
after they had graduated under Father Donnelly
said they were tractable to docility. It was by that
class of priests that Father Donnelly was made
known in St. Louis. From his ordination until his
death, a space of thirty-five years, he had visited
St. Louis very seldom, possibly four or five times,
and then called only on his classmates. Father
Donnelly was as little known in St. Louis as a mis
sionary in some distant land. It was said and be
lieved that Father Donnelly was years and years
behind the times, almost an antediluvian.
The Tuesday after Bishop P. J. Ryan's con
secration, which took place April 14th, 1872, all
the visiting archbishops, bishops and attending
priests partook of a banquet in his honor given by
the priests of the diocese. The banquet was in the
beautiful and spacious hall in Pezolt's new res
taurant on Olive Street near 10th. The spread
was the supreme effort of that far-known caterer.
Following the banquet, speeches were made by
bishops and archbishops. Bishop Foley, not yet
two years in the episcopacy, Bishop of Chicago,
and native of Baltimore, made the speech of the
day. He was young and handsome, with all the
refinement possible, with southern accent, and
with a flow of wit and humor that brought forth
applause. He was playfully funny in his refer
ences to the guest of honor, Bishop Ryan. He
spoke of him as a babe two days old. He
referred to his swaddling clothes. He exalted
Chicago, and mentioned St. Louis as too old for

186 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
so young a bridegroom. He saw archbishop's
honors coming to Chicago, and St. Louis doing the
best it could to survive until finally it would lean
on Chicago as an outside town rests on an adjoin
ing metropolis. And indeed, St. Louis might yet
be the residing place of the Vicar-General of Chi
cago ! The printed order of toasts ran out with
Bishop Foley's speech. Bishop Ryan arose to
thank his friends. He graciously, and with emo
tion in eye and accent, thanked all present for
their kindness. He referred to his happy years
in the priesthood of St. Louis, the many favors re
ceived at the hands of his fellow priests, and ten
derly acknowledged the great dignity to which he
was raised by Archbishop Kenrick, who was ever
to him a Father as well as a Bishop. He merely
referred to the pleasantries of Bishop Foley. The
speech was well-prepared and at times delivered
in his best oratorical style. The occasion evidently
seemed to him too solemn to be marred by banter
ing. The St. Louis priests wished and demanded
that some one get back at Bishop Foley. It was
in order to adjourn, but the priests wanted an
other speech. They shouted to Father O'Brien,
the toastmaster, for just one more speech; Father
O'Brien arose and waved silence. When quiet
came, he said: "Gentlemen, there's something
lacking. You want one more speech and so do I.
There is a priest here who can make that speech.
You young clergymen don't know, perhaps there
are not more than a dozen of the older ones who
do know, him. I know him. We were classmates,
we were ordained side by side. I now call on
Father Donnelly of Kansas City to arise. He is
sitting away down near the end of this room."
Father arose and as he walked up to the speakers'
and bishops' table, the priests stood up and
cheered. There was a smile on his face which

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 187
lightened up his countenance. He was attired in a
well fitting clerical suit, fresh from the tailor.
They saw an intellectual face and a finely shaped
head. In a clear, distinct voice and with the great
est possible composure he began. Compliments all
around was his introduction. Father Tom Burke,
the Lazarist, was kindly referred to, and Father
John McGary, also a Lazarist. The latter was the
second president of Mount St. Mary's, at Emmets-
burg. He was the priest who hired young John
Hughes as gardener around the college, and who
taught the young man Latin and introduced him
into the seminary. Turning to Bishop Foley he
congratulated him on his handsome looks and fine
speech. His wit as well as his name gave evidence
of his race. He was the very man to rule the
destinies of the go-ahead Chicago. And if the
Bishop may be taken as a revified cinder of the
burned city, it would seem as if Chicago was ready
for another blaze. Chicago from its infancy had
been aglow. When Rome created a diocese in the
little village on Lake Michigan, it sent a bishop
from the largest city in the land, New York. Full
of New York's snap and vigor, Bishop Quarters did
superhuman work in a few years, and was satis
fied to die. The Vice-Provincial of the Jesuits at
St. Louis, a man of zeal, gifted with the shrewd
ness for which the members of that Society are
noted, took up where the New York Bishop let go.
In less than three years Bishop Van Der Velde was
begging to be allowed to seek a home and work in
a quieter realm and was happy to be awarded the
see of Natchez, Mississippi. He breathed easier in
his sunny southern home. The third apostle, with
the fight of St. Paul in his heart and the books of
a professor of philosophy and theology in his head,
and with the constitution of an athletic and a heavy
Irish brogue born with him in Connaught and

188 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
growing with his growth, left the seminary in St.
Louis, determined to conquer or die, but never to
resign. His first day in Chicago loosened up some
thing vital inside of him. Five years in the breezes
of Lake Michigan made him feel a longing for a
little rest in the balmy atmosphere of Italy. Dis
tance did not lend enchantment to the view, and
he took up his home in the soothing fogs of Lon
don to act as bishop auxiliary to Cardinal Arch
bishop Wiseman. Then the polished, gentle
Bishop Duggan left behind his coadjutorship in St.
Louis and went forward to propitiate the elements
in Chicago. He still lives, in the confinement of
St. Vincent's Hospital, in this city. Baltimore,
steeped in southern culture, quiet in the repose of
peace and brotherly contentment, offers its most
beloved priest, secretary to a Kenrick and a Spald
ing, as a pacificator in heart and mind and tongue,
eloquent and suave, to make a long reign. You
came, you saw, and no doubt you'll conquer. Your
aspirations are high and noble. You predict great
growth and pleasant results. You have thrown out
your line of diocesan advancement. You predict
the future great Chicago will cross the Mississippi
and you plant a Vicar-General in St. Louis, where
an archbishop now reigns. In your short and
happy term in Chicago you have outstepped even
your city's aspirations. But there is a far-looking
strength and greatness in the Church ruler of St.
Louis, and there is a wit and cunning in the babe
of two days who now peeps out of his swaddling
clothes. Chicago is not a salubrious climate for
bishops, and it would be well to keep the Vicar
General nearer the Lake than St. Louis. Bishops
need their vicars close at home. They are helpful
stays near the diocesan throne."
He said many more things, and when he re
turned to his place among the younger clergy,

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 189
plaudits were ringing through the festal chamber.
Priests were rushing from their seats to shake his
hand and thank him. His former assistants came
forward to convince themselves it was the Father
Donnelly they had served for short spaces in suc
cession in Kansas City.

mf

St. Joseph's Orphan Asylum

CHAPTER XXII.
LAST DAYS.
ON the feast of the Annunciation, 1880,
Fathers Dunn and Kiely, and two Redemp
torists, Fathers Faivre and Firley, were
guests of the pastor of that church. Father
Donnelly preached at the solemn high Mass. After
dinner Father Donnelly surprised the priests when
he told them he had written his resignation. He
read them the letter to Archbishop Kenrick. His
brother priests reasoned long and well with him to
reconsider, but it was no use. He said his health
required rest and quiet. In a few days the resigna
tion was forwarded. During Holy Week a letter
from His Grace came to Father Donnelly. It read
as follows: "Rev. Dear Father Donnelly: Father Doherty,
pastor of Kirkwood, will take charge of Immac
ulate Conception Church on the coming Easter
Sunday. Yours truly,
f P. R. KENRICK, Abp."
Short and to the point. No time was lost in
the writing of that letter. There was no time for
a recognition of his thirty-five years of apostolic
work, no time to say a word of thanks for the
financial wealth he had so freely given Independ
ence, Westport, and Kansas City, and the St. Louis
Arch-diocese. A few weeks previously Father
Donnelly wrote three letters detailing some of the
gifts of property he gave the Church at those
places, and the cash he had expended out of his
own personal means. He stated in those letters
that he was nearing his end from disease, and also

192 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
wrote that he was now without a cent of money
or a foot of real estate. The same information
ran through each of the letters, a copy of which
follows :
"Parsonage, Kansas City, Jan. 19, 1880.
"I am sure you will be pleased to hear that
an Orphan Asylum is now completed and paid
for; the entire cost is $16,000. The sum of $11,200
was obtained for this purpose from the sale of a
part of the original ten-acre lot left by Father Le
Roux, which I saved for a period ^f thirty-five
years; the balance I saved out of our new Catholic
Cemetery, with every dollar I could spare for
three years. I also donated ten acres of land sit
uated near the Redemptorist Convent, • which I
bought sixteen years ago for a cemetery. There
is no debt on the new cemetery. Its 44 acres I pur
chased with my own money. I purchased the site
of the Westport Church and reduced the debt on
the new church started by Father Doherty.
"Now I do not own a square foot of real
estate on the face of the earth, or a dollar in
money. Some future pastor or perhaps a bishop
will probably build a cathedral here and bring the
people and the needs of religion to greater perfec
tion. As for me, my course is nearly run. I suffer
from chest disease. I have never had a vacation.
"Kansas City is surely to become one of the
large cities of the United States. Buildings are
going up all the winter, the present year is ex
pected to be the most prosperous of all. The pop
ulation at present is estimated at 60,000. The
writer is as much astonished at what he sees, al
though it so happened that he was around here
before the city was founded at all, as those who
have come lately. "Affectionately yours,
"Bernard Donnelly."

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 193
Three copies of this letter were written, one
to Archbishop Kenrick, another to Bishop Ryan,
coadjutor bishop, and a third to Father Muehl-
siepen, V. G. of St. Louis.
Father Doherty, the successor, arrived here on
the Saturday before Easter Sunday. Father Don
nelly's greeting to him was cordial. He said, "This
is your parish, and this is the only home I have
to give you." Taking his hat and overcoat he
moved to the door, saying, "God bless you; may
your days here be long and happy." Father Doherty
replied to Father Donnelly: "I want you to stay,
this will be your home as long as you live. I'll
find quarters somewhere in the parish until the
people build me a residence." It was no use. Father
Donnelly went forth. He had no home in sight, he
had no money to purchase food or shelter. As he
moved outside to the streets, some Sisters from
St. Joseph's Hospital passing by hailed him and
hearing his story, said to him: "Father Donnelly,
the Sisters of St. Joseph owe you all they have in
Kansas City. They foresaw what was coming and
there is a comfortable room awaiting you in St.
Joseph's Hospital." They retraced their steps' to
the hospital and bade Father Donnelly go with
them, where he would have a home and care as
long as he lived.
His remaining days were not many. Disease
was weakening him. When the sun shone he
would move around. His steps were slow and
tottering, but the smile of recognition as he met
a friend here and there lit his wan face. In
November he went to bed to get up no more. The
attention of the good Sisters was unremitting. All
that physicians could do was exhausted, and a few
minutes past 4 p. m., December 15th, 1880,
Father Donnelly's soul went back to his God,
who does not forget and who repays for services

194 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
rendered. It was a coincidence, it was by the di
rection of a moving Spirit, it was a coming together
that was not arranged for — every priest in Kansas
City, without a call from anybody, without a knowl
edge of his coming dissolution, was at Father
Donnelly's bedside when his spirit went forth. The
day previous and the morning of the day of his
death, the inquiring clergy were told that Father
Donnelly had rested the night before and would
likely survive several days. The writer, who knew
him longest and best, was the first to reach his
side. Death was coming very fast. Before he had
read far in the prayers for the dying, the priests
were all kneeling in the sick chamber and answer
ing the invocations for a happy death. The Sis
ters, too, were there from the parish schools, from
St. Teresa's Academy, and the Sisters of the hos
pital. When the end had come, priests and Sisters
lingered to pray for the departed. A worthy man,
a true priest, and an indefatigable worker had left
the scene of years of truly apostolic zeal for the
glory of God and the good of man.
Early in the afternoon before the day of the
funeral, the children of the Immaculate Concep
tion Parish, and of Annunciation and St. Patrick's,
followed by fully two thousand people from all
parts of the city, escorted Father Donnelly's re
mains to his church. When the procession arrived
at Broadway and 11th Streets there was a crowd
awaiting the corpse, that filled sidewalks and
streets up to the church doors. The aisles and pews
were packed to the Sanctuary. It was one dense
throng of mourning friends and admirers, who
showed by their tears and sobs that a loved Father
was dead. All during the night there was a stream
of people passing in and out after viewing the re
mains. Volunteers gave their services to leading
in the rosary and litanies that never died out for

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 195
a moment until the first tones of the organ an
nounced the hour for the Requiem services and the
entrance into the Sanctuary of over one hundred
priests from St. Louis and all the cities and towns
in the West. One hundred priests forty years ago
meant more than lived east and west of the banks
of the Missouri River this side of St. Louis. The
solemn High Mass was chanted and every priest
present went with the funeral cortege out to the
new Mount St. Mary's Cemetery to see the remains
of a great priest buried within the cemetery he
donated and in the grave he selected, where he often
said he wished to sleep for all time — but, without
rest in life, his tired bones were not to be allowed
to rest in death.
The irony of fate seemed to follow Father
Donnelly into the grave. Sunday after Sunday
he declaimed against the extravagant funeral pro
cessions that conveyed the dead to the cemeteries.
"You, my dear people," he would say, "go to ex
tremes in your lavish expenditures at funerals.
You spend money you cannot afford on carriages
and buggies; you incur debts and are forced to
deny yourselves and your families becoming attire
and the necessities of life as a result. At times
many of you have lost your jobs by staying away
from your places of employment a half and fre
quently a whole day in going and coming from the
cemetery. When death enters your homes you
spend so recklessly you are indebted to undertaker
and carriage owners for months."
When the news of Father Donnelly's death was
spread abroad numbers of his friends met in a
public hall to arrange for a funeral that would
show their appreciation of a good priest and citi
zen. A committee was appointed. A brass band
was first on their list, then carriages for pall
bearers and for friends unable to bear the expense

196 Life of Father Bernard Donnelly
of conveyances for themselves. They selected a
coffin costing over $900. Such a display has never
been equalled in the history of Kansas City, even
to the present day. The newspapers the following
day said there were 118 buggies, 75 carriages, 3
omnibusses, and 22 other vehicles, making in all
219 conveyances in the procession, which was two
miles long and required forty-five minutes to pass
a given point.
Father Donnelly had often concluded his re
monstrances against the extravagance and show of
modern funerals with the remarks, "When I am
dead I shall not have need of a will, for I shall
have no money to distribute. I want a plain pine-
board coffin, and wish no display of carriages and
buggies." When the undertaker had drawn up his state
ment of the costs, he could find no person or per
sons willing to assume any financial responsibility
— they had acted as a committee only. All of
Father Donnelly's own property had been given
to the churches and educational and charitable in
stitutions during his lifetime. A deed returned to
Father Donnelly by Archbishop Kenrick about the
time of his death, and found several weeks after
his burial, furnished the means of a final settle
ment of his funeral expenses.
Father Donnelly's remains rested for a time
in Mount St. Mary's Cemetery, his personal gift
to the Catholics of Kansas City. When the new
Cathedral was completed they were taken from the
grave and placed beneath a side aisle in the Sanc
tuary. He lies in the original ten acres left by
Father Le Roux and so carefully guarded by him
against the efforts of committees to sell it or ex
change it, or to partition it for the erection of new
parishes.

Life of Father Bernard Donnelly 197
Peace to your soul, Kansas City's great Pastor
and Provider! Your sagacity did more to build
the Cathedral than did the contributions of Kansas
City's Catholics. Your loving care provided an
asylum for the orphan, a hospital for the sick and
the dying, and a cemetery for the dead. You
opened the first school for the little ones of your
flock, and out of your savings helped erect the
first academy for higher education. Your loyalty
to your city in counsel and assistance when it was
a struggling landing-place was side by side with
your efforts in upbuilding the cause of religion.
Your zeal for Kansas City and for its growth to
your oft-predicted metropolitan greatness had no
selfish motive. Your grave has no marker of sil
ver or brass to tell where your ashes lie. No shaft
of marble points heavenward in cemetery, park
or boulevard to say that you were Kansas City's
faithful friend and helper in its infancy and in its
struggling days when war and nature's obstacles
threatened its very life. But your memory is kept
alive by the property you donated to and preserved
for the Church, by the institutions of charity and
learning you were instrumental in founding, by the
presence of those religious orders (both men and
women) who came at your invitation — yes, verily
by your works, oh good and faithful servant in
the vineyard of the King of kings, are you known
and remembered in the place where you accom
plished so much good. ETERNAL REST IN
HEAVEN, Father Donnelly, is the prayer of the
writer of your long-deferred Biography and will
stand as

FINIS

H CKNOWLEDGMENT is hereby
gratefully made for the photographs
so kindly furnished the author;
To D. P. Thomson
for the portrait of Father Donnelly.
To The Photographic and View Company
for the pictures of Father Donnelly's Church,
St. Joseph's Orphan Asylum, and the two views
of St. Teresa's Academy.
To Anderson Photo Company
for the views of Redemptorist Church.