Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1903-04-15
d Observation-Disclosures
The Hermit H
Priest Of the |
Old Santa /
Fee Trail
By Colonel HENRY INMAN
Copyright, 1909, by
American Press association

8
Copyright, 1909, by f
9 American Press association
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
On the evenings of Kansas incom-
parable Indian summer, during the
early part of which season he was liv-
ing in his cave near Council Grove,
the hermit priest, seated on a project
ing ledge at the mouth of his rocky
and isolated retreat, would sweep the
strings of his treasured instrument
with touch as light, deft and sorrow
fully tender as maiden whose pure
young heart has just been thrilled by
its first breath of love.
To those who were fortunate-and
they were very few-to be invited to
spend an hour with him his vesper
hymns, rendered in his exquisite tenor
voice, We're as soul inspiring as the
gentle earnestness of young girls
prayer. His sometime Neapolitan songs
and soft airs of his native isle were as
sweet as the chant of the angels he
invoked when in a deeply religious
mood, and his heart feeling tones min
gled sadly with the gentle soughing of
the evening breeze in the dense foliage
ON the margin of the placid Neosho
that flowed near by. Thus in the calm
enjoyment 81 his self imposed solitude
he lived with
The moss his bed the cave his humble
CELL
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal
we'll
Among the various languages neces-
sary for the communication Of ideas
between the motley crowd comprising
| the civilization of the then remote re-
| gion there was none that Matteo Boo
calini did not understand and speak
fuently, SO liberal had been his educa-
| ton in that particular.
Once when stabbed and dying Mex
lean, the victim of some gambling
| quarrel among the drivers of the bull
| train to which he was attached, asked
service for the repose of his soul
| Father Francesca FASTENED to the anx-
ious mans side. There he admins
tered in the MeXican's own language
the last sacrament of the church to the
expiring creature, who died with re-
signed look upon his face as he listened
to the absolving words he could per-
fectly understand, and this was thing
of joy to the holy man who had per
formed the sacred office.
One day late in the month of Octo-
her, now nearly thirty-four years ago
the hermit priest saw walking through
the streets Of the little village dark
visaged person clad in clerical gart
and whom Boccalini believed to be
the lover of the woman he had wrong
ed in his youth and that the stranger
if it We're he whom he suspected, could
never be persuaded to think that Mat
teo was not wholly to be blamed for
the life he had blasted.
He told his friends he could no lon
ger tarry with them. He would go away
to the mountains Of New Mexico, seek
another cave, rear again the blessed
cross, emblem of his Masters suffer
ing, and once more live in solitude
from which here he had somewhat
strayed.
He frequently when in a communi
cative mood had talked much to them
of the delights of absolute solitude.
1t was, he argued, the nurse of enthu-
siasm; that enthusiasm was the parent
of genius; that solitude had always
been eagerly sought for in every age
1t was the inspiration Of the domi
nnnt religion of every nation; that the
founders of these religions were meI
who, seeking the quiet and seclusiol
of the desert and by subordinating tn
flesh to the spirit, had visions of thu
beyond; that the veil hiding the bette
world had been lifted for them ant
that their teachings had come down t
us through the cons, elevating maj
| above the brute
The next morning after the sudde
appearance of the stranger whose pres
ence had so discomposed the usual
calm priest, delicious morning in tn
month of "autumn's holocaust" whe
; the breeze was billowing the russo
, colored grass upon the virgin prairie
Father Francesca gathered up his feV
precious relics and, accepting the e.
} cort of caravan just ready to stal
for New Mexico, left Council Grow
his cave and the warm friends he ha
made there forever.
The caravan under the protection {
! which the frightened hermit wei
westward was owned by Mexica
DON brother-in-law to Kit Carson. g
still resides near the spot where Il
i'll fated Italian was, Il year or two af
er his wearisome journey across tt
great plains, hurried to eternity.
This venerable Mexican and old tin
/. voyageur of the almost obliteratt
Santa Fe TRAIL when l last visited hi
at his hospitable home in the mou
tains fourteen years ago, cntertain'
, me by relating some Of the more prof.
inent characteristics of his stranI
\ companion during that memorial
trip with the hermit priest from Cou
Gil Grove more than twenty years pr
~ viously. He said that the strange mt
would never ride either ON horseba,
or in one Of the wagons, despite t
earnest invitation extended to hi
81 each recurring morning by the mast
!. Of the caravan, preferring to trud
n along uncomplainingly day after d.
Y during the sunny hours beside t
u plodding oxen through the alkali du
~ of the desert.
y Neither at night would he partial
Q of the shelter of the tent constant
a offered, but as constantly and persi:
% entity refused, preferring to roll himst
To-, at, 1T,