The Apostle of South Africa

Endless Quarrels

Not that everything went smoothly. There were differences of opinion among the monks. Two priests complained that the projected quadrangle of the future monastery was too big for poor, simple Trappists. Fr. Francis gave in and changed the plans he had drawn up. On the whole, however, the monks were united. Things became critical only when some escaped overnight, an incident we return to a little later.

What really taxed Fr. Franz’s patience were the marauding gypsies who had been set up against the Trappists by a neighbouring Turkish landowner. Only after many negotiations and God’s felt protection at the intercession of good Saint Joseph – to whom, incidentally, Francis Wendelin Pfanner had a lifelong devotion – he was able to reach a settlement with them. It was one of the many occasions which could have robbed him of all courage and confidence. But he stood his ground even when Turkish officials tried to put a stop to the new monastery by citing the Koran to him.

Abbot Francis:

“We had hired day labourers at twenty-one Turkish groschen (pennies) a square meter to help us lay a solid foundation. Sand, though not terribly clean, was taken from a level patch of ground by the Vrbas and bricks were burnt at the brickyard in Krcevina. Firing the bricks required a large amount of firewood and a road for transport. Bricks were made and stones quarried by hired labour who also loaded the carts which were drawn by two gray Styr horses. These huge beasts easily made the trip to and fro between the kiln and the quarry a hundred times and more. Limestone was a problem. Since we did not have the right quality of lime we had to buy it from neighbouring peasants. All building timbers and boards were sewn at the mills by the river Sava on the other side of Old Gradiska six hours distant and then rafted across the Vrbas. Everything worked out alright until one day the Pasha showed up at the building site, accompanied by a whole squad of sabered officials. ‘What are you up to?!’ he shouted. ‘You are building a fortress! I say: Stop it’!”

Each time Fr. Francis demanded to see the regulations black on white and then usually ignored them. He knew fully well, for example, that by Turkish law Christians were allowed to build “only with wood and clay”. But what options did such laws leave him? Mollify the shouting Pasha with bakshish? The Pasha would have liked that and probably turned a blind eye to the building. However, the Vorarlberger would not stoop that low. “With a few hundred ducats I could have swayed the Pasha, but bribery was out of the question. I never learned that trade.”

Like two bulls interlocking horns neither the Turk nor the Vorarlberger was ready to budge an inch. However, the time came when Fr. Francis had enough of intrigues and wrangling. He threatened the Pasha that he would appeal to the sultan in Constantinople. His words came to the ears of the Austrian consul who did all in his power to restore peace between the loggerheads without, however achieving anything. Instead, Fr. Francis sent Br. Zacharias to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Vienna to obtain an introductory letter for him to the Sublime Porte. Armed with this letter he travelled to Istanbul to present it to the Grand Vizier in person. The journey was all but safe. Was the Pasha not known to use any means available, such as hiring highwaymen to eliminate an opponent? Fr. Franz was warned. Under cover of dark he had himself rowed across the Vrbas. On the opposite bank a horse carriage was waiting for him of the kind people used for transporting prune plums in huge vats. On this occasion one of these vats was conveniently left empty. No sooner had he let himself down in it, the driver covered it and immediately gave the horses the spurs. Eight hours to the border – plenty of time for the adventurer monk to pray for protection and the success of his mission!

In Istanbul the Franciscans – “Italians, all of them” – generously accommodated him. Was he ever happy now to have learned their language twenty years earlier in Padua! Baron von Osten-Prokesch, the Austrian ambassador to the Sublime Porte, to whom he reported the very next day, promised him assistance. He appointed an attaché to accompany him not only to the imperial palace but also to the residences of the Sultan’s officials. Fr. Francis armed himself with a lot of patience for not only in Rome but also here in Istanbul the clocks ticked differently. He waited for three months until the Sultan finally stooped to attend to his request by issuing him with an edict that authorized him to build “a private home with sixty rooms”.

Abbot Francis:

“I was promised the document but it took another week before it was actually issued, signed and sealed. The dragoman (ambassador’s interpreter) was a very fine man. Not only did he insist on sending for my ticket but he also paid for it from his own pocket. – I do not have words to describe the joy and satisfaction I felt when Constantinople lay again behind me. If I had won the California gold mines I could not have been happier.”

Challenges no End

Armed with the all-important decree, Fr. Franz returned to Mariastern to face the Pasha with more bargaining power. Construction had continued but so had the Pasha’s interferences. Fr. Franz faced him unafraid.

Abbot Francis:

“The first thing to be completed was the stone wall followed by the brickwork. Thank God, fall blessed us with favourable weather … Since we could only buy building timbers, rafters and boards at Krain, we had to transport them as far as Alt-Gradiska (both in today’s Slovenia) and from there in a ten-hour haul to Mariastern. The labor was one thing, the rivers, another. We had to negotiate two, including our wild Vrbas which had as yet no bridge. Crossing it without the aid of a single machine proved a feat of “engineering”! It showed how resourceful, no: brilliant my monks were! They first offloaded the timber and iron; then they dismantled the waggon, carried its parts and everything else through the water, reassembled the waggon on the opposite bank and, having reloaded it, drove it to the building site … In this way we carted all the materials we needed, including nails, because nothing was available in the godforsaken Banjaluka. The only building materials we could produce ourselves without the use of special equipment, were limestone and bricks.”

On 12 September 1870, sorely tried Fr. Franz wrote to his friend and benefactor, Bishop Fessler of St. Poelten. The authorities in Constantinople had not only been delighted about Mariastern’s plan to open an orphanage, but they had actually asked him to establish a school as well.

“In Constantinople I saw a rare sight: different religious communities – Jesuits, Lazarists, Benedictines, Dominicans, Reformed Franciscans, Franciscan Conventuals, Capuchins, Daughters of Lyon and Sisters of Mercy – living peacefully side by side and undisturbed by Turks, Greeks or Armenians … The Lord is good to us. Though the jug of oil and the jar of flour have been empty several times already, they have always been filled again. The building eats up what meagre funds we have; still, we make progress. Forty brick makers and twenty bricklayers, eighty labourers in all, demand a good chunk of bread every day. Thank God, so far we have been able to provide them … We are a community of twelve, including seven novices. All are Germanspeaking. – A railway is under construction at a short distance from our monastery. It begins at the Austrian border and, cutting across Bosnia, continues all the way to Constantinople. We could not be in a better position than we are. Incidentally, the Bosnian name for Mariastern is Marija Zvijezda.”

We return now to the incident we mentioned before. It was something that happened towards the end of 1870 and grievously disappointed Fr. Franz. Just before Christmas his Brothers abandoned him. They left Mariastern to seek their luck elsewhere. Only the novices stayed. The ringleaders of the deserters were two priests who convinced the others to follow them. Biegner who was only a postulant at the time, also packed to leave. He told Fr. Franz that he was disillusioned: “Reverend Father, since you are leaving, I have no choice but to go as well.” – Leave? His superior was utterly taken aback. The conspiracy had been carefully hidden from him. “Leave!” he exclaimed. “I will not leave. But if you wish to go, do so by all means. I am not keeping you.” Then musing as if to himself, he added: “Now it will be seen whether God wants Mariastern or not.”

Biegner stayed and, to anticipate our story a little, the others returned, but not before the worst was over. That year the weather played crazy. First, the Vrbas flooded the lower pastures and then it snowed nonstop. Temperatures dropped to –18 °C. It was so cold that the wolves left their dens and prowled around the neighbourhood, sniffing for food at the shelters where the hired hands lived. No one and nothing moved. Correspondence with Mariawald and Oelenberg was at an all-time low. As if these were not trials enough, on 17 January 1871 the cook died after professing his simple vows. “Br. Fridolin died a holy death,” Fr. Francis drily wrote in the monastery chronicle.

Decades later, Fr. Joseph Biegner wrote a Pro Memoriam for Br. Fridolin. “He was our first novice and a devout monk. Though a trained mason, he was made to cook. Cooking in those days was not a big thing. Our diet was more than frugal, consisting of maize porridge three times a day and, if we were lucky, a thin soup at noon with a few stray beans floating on top. We ate with wooden spoons and were happy and content. We followed the good example our Prior17 gave us, in the belief that the life we lived was normal for Trappists. We had chosen it freely. – Br. Fridolin earned heaven as a cook. In those years many of us caught malaria and I had to be ‘physician-cum-nurse’. When Fridolin was laid to rest I also was the one to climb down in his grave to pull his hood over his face – the first Trappist for whom I did this favour. In my eyes, but not only mine, Fridolin was a saint, even a martyr, on account of all the smoke which he inhaled in our primitive kitchen.”

Letter-Writer – Beggar – Health Practitioner

Despite setbacks such as the defection of his monks life at Mariastern continued. Abandoned, snowbound and completely cut off from the outside world, Fr. Franz decided to use the enforced leisure of the long dark winter months to make Mariastern known. Making himself a beggar, he wrote to friends and relatives and also composed interesting articles for newspapers and weeklies. Some of his writings found entry into a school reader; others were bound in book form and printed under the title “Letters from the Vrbas”. Today, these form part of Bosnia’s 19th century cultural heritage.

The idea of “mission” weaves like a red thread through the Prior’s writings. His description of the first public Corpus Christi procession at Mariastern in 1871 is an example. The procession was followed by eight hours of Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, for the explicit purpose of calling down God’s blessings on Bosnia and its citizens. When word reached Banjaluka that “the foreigners at the monastery” had actually asked their God to send favourable weather to the whole of the country the Pasha was for once favourably impressed.

Fr. Franz was never idle. Besides writing to promote Mariastern he improved his knowledge of home remedies and natural medicine. He admired people who cured infirmities with simple means. Learning from them he became known for his own expertise. People who suffered from all kinds of diseases and infirmities flocked to Mariastern to consult him.

Abbot Francis:

“It is said that Trappists eat the most unbalanced diet. But this is not true! Most People in Bosnia do not eat half as well as we do. Their staple food is unleavened maize bread. As a result their bellies become distended and they are left with little or no energy. Children and youngsters of fourteen are pale, potbellied and apathetic. Horrified at these symptoms, I decided to help them to improve their eating habits.”

The “doctor of Mariastern”, although dispensing only natural remedies, cured hundreds of patients, especially those who suffered from worms and malaria. In an effort to stop the clandestine brewing of the popular prune brandy (slivovitz) he sometimes purchased a whole wagonload of plums and dried them. People admired the Trappists for their versatility, inventiveness and diligence. But when they saw the Prior working with his own hands they objected: “Effendi (sir), you work? A big lord living in a mansion like you must not work!”

A Digression:

Death and Burial of a Trappist

When a Trappist is about to die, someone knocks with a wooden hammer on a hollow board. As soon as this sound is heard the monks hurry from everywhere to the dying man’s cell to pray for him. If he wants to say farewell, make a request or exhort them in some way he is given permission to do so. Then it is seen how the Brothers love each other, even though they may not have said a word to one another for twenty years or more. Good-byes on the threshold of eternity are deeply moving. They give eloquent proof of the truth that brotherhood and love do not reside in the tongue!

When death has occurred, the deceased is dressed in his habit, wooden shoes are put on his feet and his body is laid on a board, with his head raised on a straw pillow. While this is done the community chants the Miserere (Psalm 50), the Our Father and various other psalms a hundred times over. Then the “coffin” is brought in front of the altar and the Mass for the Deceased is celebrated for the repose of the dead Brother’s soul. Afterwards, it is taken to the cemetery and lowered into a grave. A Brother goes down after it, pulls the hood over the dead one’s face, crosses his arms, incenses his body a last time and finally pours the burning coals from the censer alongside his board. When that is done, the body is covered with soil, starting at the foot end. The community returns to the church, and, prostrating before the Blessed Sacrament, prays the 7 Penitential Psalms. Each monk says a Psalter (150) of the Miserere and each priest celebrates three Holy Masses for the deceased Brother.

Francis Pfanner, “Letters from the Vrbas”. 1871 – 1874.

Seeing or, more often, hearing the monks pray shortly after midnight or at the most unearthly hour of the day was something that took their breath away: Why on earth should anyone get up so early? Had piety gone to their heads? And why did they never speak? Why did they live such a primitive life when they could afford a better one? It was all too much for them. But some reflected and came to the conclusion that it must be the love of God and fellow men that drove the Trappists to live as they did. It explained why they were moderate, simple, ascetic and, yes, celibate. Gradually, their outlook changed. The silent witness of the Trappists was not in vein. It had a profound missionary dimension and was bound to bear fruit for the good of Muslim-Orthodox Bosnia and beyond.

Serious and Funny

By Francis Pfanner OCR

What matters is common sense. Without it, diligent study and a sharp mind are of little avail.

When the devil gets his toe stepped on, he utters the selfsame groan, no matter where.

I was such a hothead when I was young that if I had had to create the world, I would have done it in one day rather than six. Thus I would have come to blows even with the Good Lord himself.

If nothing else can spur us on to work more diligently for the salvation of souls, then let us at least be ashamed at the zeal Satan displays! The idlers of this world are his followers. While we rock ourselves in our hammocks with not a care in the world, he holds the key to the powder magazine and is lying in wait to blow us up when his hour comes.

VI.

Daily Cares. Soliciting Vocations and Support

A Capable Man Grows Wings

When in the spring of 1871 warmer weather returned to Bosnia, most of Mariastern’s fugitives returned – remorsefully. Each had a story to tell. Fr. Gallus was the first. He had fallen prey to robbers who left him half naked by the roadside. Fr. Bernard wrote from the Monastery of St. Maria du Mont in France where his blood brother had entered. He asked for re-admission to Mariastern but fell ill before he could realize his wish and died. A third, Br. Jacob, the smith, had wandered high and low, until he found employment as a menial at the Austrian Hospice in Jerusalem. One day, someone found him half dead on the road. He returned to Mariastern. Even Fr. Robert, instigator and ringleader, came back after trying his luck in various monasteries, only to discover that none was as good as his own in Bosnia.

With the snow melting, work on the new monastery was resumed. The stable was completed and so was the threshing floor. Stones were quarried in a rocky gorge and a road built with them to enable more stones to be transported to other sites. Bosnian labourers worked under Fr. Franz’s supervision. He had to show them everything, for they had never seen, leave alone handled even a simple tool such as a pick ax or shovel:

“We blasted away rocks that were in the way and built bridges across the gorges. To do so we had to uproot giant oak trees, make them fall in position across the brooks and use their roots and faggots to fill in the spaces between them.”

Then there was the bell affair. Mariastern needed a bell to call the monks together for the various exercises of the day, but the Pasha would not allow it. What to do? Never short of an idea, Fr. Franz asked Austrian benefactors to donate a bell. They did and more than one. These were shipped to the border and received by a Brother who drove up with a beer cask on his cart, big enough to hold a bell. Once he had the bell fitted in the cask he filled it with beer and put the lid back on.

At Mariastern the bell was hung on a primitive belfry and rung. The Pasha was infuriated but had to realize that he was no match for the man from Vorarlberg. Franz silenced the bells until feelings had calmed down and then had them rung again. People living in the vicinity got used to them, complaints stopped and the Pasha had to find another bone to pick.

Mariastern’s flour and saw mill was powered by electricity from a nearby waterfall. This caused additional trouble. The mill had been built by a “specialist”, hired for the purpose. But it did not work and so Fr. Franz refused to pay the last instalment on the contract. The builder fumed and swore and was completely deaf to reasoning. In the end, the Prior had to call a few Brothers to evict him.

The monastery chronicler:

“Though the saw mill had been completed in the spring of 1872 it could not be operated until December. The fault was quite obviously the builder’s, who had no idea how to make three millstones work in unison. The agreed price, including a circular saw, was 6000 guilders. … Later, a well was dug to supply not only the mill with water but also the monastery and a projected brewery. – About the same time, a dairy was built, consisting of a kitchen and various cellars for storing milk and cheese. When finally the saw mill did go into operation the Pasha hurried up again to protest. He made it his habit to raise a hue and cry every time he thought there was something to cry about – probably hoping for a bribe. But he achieved nothing, for armed with a title deed from Constantinople Fr. Franz could afford to turn a deaf ear to him.”

Monastery Affairs

Fr. Francis and Fr. Robert jointly petitioned the general administration of the Congregation of Rancé to incorporate Mariastern. If neither Oelenberg nor Mariawald were willing to assume patronage, they would accept a French abbot as pater immediatus. Mariastern fulfilled the conditions for autonomy as laid down by the Trappist rule: its size was “90 yoke under the plow”18 and an additional yoke of standing timber and brushwood. The necessary income was generated by the sale of grain and dairy products. It also owned 14 head of cattle which produced enough milk to make butter and cheese, including Swiss cheese.

„Our products are a stable source of income and so is our Kunstmuehle,19 which does not have its equal in Bosnia. Why, we even expect to make profit with our brickyard because it is the only one of its kind far and wide. Moreover, Mariastern has a terraced vineyard and there are plans to acquire a machine [fruit drier] for making prunes. Ongoing development enables us to feed and maintain upwards from three hundred members … At present, we are five choir monks and six Brothers. – So much about us. But for the uninformed we add that Mariastern was founded by decree of Pope Pius IX himself.”

The reader will recall the animosity of both Oelenberg and Mariawald towards Fr. Francis and his monks. However, this had not prevented a friendly Trappist procurator in Rome, a cardinal and even the pope from giving him the go-ahead. Though the charges against him had been judged groundless and unjustified, the Roman Rota was powerless to stop the rumours circulated against him by fellow Trappists. The Oelenberg chronicler refers to Fr. Francis as a “rebellious” monk, to whom Prior Scheby – “later removed from office” – gave too much confidence. He had allegedly failed to keep the Trappist silence, criticized the Prior openly and denounced him in letters to the archbishop of Cologne. But in the end even this chronicler conceded that Fr. Francis might have been the victim of intrigue. “Certain superiors seem to have recognized him as a capable man feared him. But to give the devil his due, Francis was an extraordinary monk and a man of iron will and tireless work whom Divine Providence used to establish two monasteries [Mariastern and Mariannhill].”

On 15 December, 1872, Fr. Francis pronounced his solemn vows in Port-du-Salut, a Trappist abbey of the Congregation of de Rancé in western France. The following is his handwritten formula of profession:

“I, Fr. Francis, priest and monk in simple vows, Titular Prior of the Monastery of Mariastern, profess solemn vows by the dispensation granted the Trappists by the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office on 5 February 1868. I promise stability, the conversion of morals and obedience according to the Rule of the holy Abbot Benedict, before God and the saints whose relics are preserved here. I do so for the monastery of Mariastern, a member of the Cistercian Congregation of Our Lady of La Trappe and established in honour of the Mother of God, Mary ever Virgin, in the presence of Rev. Henri, Abbot of Port du Salut, my pater immediatus. – Fr. Franziskus Pfanner.”

Cowls do not make Monks Stones do not make Monasteries

The same Fr. Franz who did not hesitate to call on ministers and [later] millionaires for support made it a point all his life to stay in touch with his native Vorarlberg. He might be a celebrated figure, but he always remained simple and devout – a man of the people, of prayer and work. Naturally, he wished to see this attitude reflected in his Brothers. So he taught them to observe the rule, pray and work and observe the perpetual silence of the Trappists. Giving the best of examples as a monk and pioneer, he did not lack followers as long as he was in charge.

Vocations poured into Mariastern from everywhere. In 1872, three blood brothers asked for admission – John, Matthew and Martin Zimmer from Willenz in Moravia (modern Czech Republic). Their brother, Francis, followed them a year later as an oblate. After him came John Berger, a blacksmith from Hirsching, and Joseph Gatterlehner from Puerach, both places in Upper Austria. In 1873, a fifty-four year-old diocesan priest, John Hofer from St. Leonhard in the Passeier Valley, entered. He was descended from the family of the freedom fighter Andreas Hofer of South Tyrol and as a Trappist received the name Zosimus, but he died less than three years later. In the same year, a master brewer, Wendelin Walter from Upper Silesia, received the habit. Under his capable direction, a small brewery and dairy were established. At almost the same time, Thomas Damm, a bookbinder from Metten near Cologne, joined the community.