The Venerable Don Bosco, the Apostle of Youth/Chapter XXV
CHAPTER XXV
FRENCH PILGRIMS VISIT DON BOSCO. OTHER VISITS. PROPHECIES
Forever memorable was one of the last visits that Don Bosco paid in Turin. Nine hundred pilgrims, Catholic working men of France, on their way to Rome, stopped in Turin and solicited the happiness of seeing him. Weak and suffering as he was, he walked to Sogno's hotel leaning on Don Rua and Mr. Harmel. As the large hall could not accommodate all the pilgrims, Don Bosco seated himself in front of the hotel entrance, and having given them and their families a fervent benediction, he deputed Don Rua to address them in his behalf. Each of the pilgrims then knelt to kiss Don Bosco's hand and receive from him a medal of Our Lady, Help of Christians—a function that lasted nearly an hour, during which the venerable patriarch softly spoke his good wishes: "May the Blessed Virgin protect you and guide you to Heaven!" or to priests, "God grant that you may lead many souls to Him!"
The Salesian Bulletin, in a description of this inspiring scene, adds: "On this evening Don Bosco received many proofs of a generosity which is proverbial. The French pilgrimages leave long and bright trains of faith in their wake."
Scarcely less touching is the pen-picture of a personal visit paid to Don Bosco by a Belgian gentleman in December, 1887.
"I had to go up numerous stairs, and at the top, in a very humble attic, I found him. I remarked two splendid etchings there, attesting that if the object of the institution was to educate artisans, artists, too, belonged to it. I met Don Bosco's principal co-laborers, Don Rua, his vicar-general; the other, his assistant, Don Durando. The first, still young, I recognized at once to be an active, energetic character; the second, ascetic-looking, singularly recalled to me the emaciated countenance of St. Vincent of Paul. As the waiting-room was full of visitors of all classes, Don Durando allowed me to pass into his cell, where I was astonished to see evidences of great poverty. Many poor are better lodged and have better furniture than this eminent clergyman; I believe the Salesian staff are contented with the lodging of a barrack.
"When at last I was to have the happiness of approaching Don Bosco my heart beat more quickly than in going before worldly potentates, reflecting that I was to meet one of those rare men whom God is pleased to raise up at certain times, to show what saints are and what they can achieve. Sanctity! How this word makes worldly people smile! Nevertheless, even from a human point of view, saints have had a great effect on individual lives and nations. Who would dare to say, for example that the social influence of St. Vincent of Paul has not been deeper, more lasting, and above all, happier and more salutary than that of a Richelieu or a Mazarin? Who could say that the providential originating power bestowed on Don Bosco in this intricate labor question, if it came to be generalized, would not cause unexpected solutions?
"While thus reflecting my turn for admission came. I threw a rapid glance around the room, which was as miserably and poorly furnished as possible, and saw with emotion an old man, seated on a sofa, bent with age and the labors of a long apostolate. His failing powers no longer admitted of his standing up, but he raised his head, which was bent, and I could see his eyes, weak but full of intelligent goodness.
"Don Bosco spoke French fluently, slowly; but he expressed himself with remarkable clearness. He gave me a simple, dignified and cordial welcome. I was much touched at an aged, almost dying man, unceasingly invaded by visitors, evincing such sincere, sympathetic interest in all. He spoke to me in moving terms of the Bishop of Liege's ardent zeal for workmen. With Don Bosco the sword had cut the scabbard, but what strength of mind still existed in the weakened body! With what a tone of regret he deplored that his feebleness prevented him from actively directing his numerous works! Who more than he is entitled to intone with confidence the canticle of holy Simeon: Nunc dimittis servum tuum in pace?"
The Bishop of Liege, Msgr. Doutreloux, had long been soliciting of Don Bosco a Salesian foundation in his episcopal city of Belgium, but in vain. A personal visit, however, late in December, brought him at last the desired consolation; the founder consented, and even fixed the time and arranged some of the details of the foundation.
It is evident that Don Bosco had long foreseen the time of his death—the day, perhaps, as well as the year. It was in deference to his earnest entreaty that the consecration of the Church of the Sacred Heart was not postponed until 1888.
"I wish to see our church consecrated," he said; "if it is deferred I shall not see it."
When his disciples and friends alluded lovingly to the coming celebration of his "golden jubilee of priesthood" in 1891, he would smile and say, "You are under an illusion." In November, 1887, seated one day at the bedside of a Salesian Father who had received the last Sacraments, he said in a tone of decision: "You will not die; your turn is not yet come; another will take your place." The patient recovered his health; and Don Bosco when dying was actually placed in the bed he had occupied, it being more convenient for his attendants.
A noble benefactress of his works, whose last hour was near, desired to see her holy director. Don Bosco was conducted to her, and greeting her with his usual pleasantry, he said, teasingly: "Ah, Madame la Comtesse, you were to sacrifice two fat calves for my jubilee, and you are breaking your word! But I cannot find fault with you for I shall not be there either."
During the year 1887 some of his dearest friends, among them the Abbé Margotti, a staunch defender and benefactor of Don Bosco and his Society for forty years, had passed through the gates of eternal life, leaving many a void in his great and loving heart. But death was to him only an angel who comes to draw aside the veil that hides the unseen. As the New Year—1888—was beginning its progress he said to his brethren: "Make haste and ask a grant for my grave." It was a command which they obeyed with sorrow and apprehension.
On December 6th the Salesian missionaries started for their far-away destination in Ecuador, South America, and Don Bosco, aided by his secretary, Don Viglietti, descended to preside at the farewell ceremonies. Don Bonetti preached. But when the dear wayfarers passed before their venerable founder to kiss his hand, his strength failed utterly and he had to be borne to his room.
The next day his beloved Msgr. Cagliero arrived from Patagonia; the emotion on both sides may be conceived; after so lengthened and trying a separation they met for a moment only to face another parting until the eternal years. This meeting suggested to Don Bosco a similar consolation for those Fathers who had been longest in the Society, who had borne with him the burden and heat of the day from the beginning; and Don Cerutti, Don Branda, Don Albera, and others were recalled to the bedside of their dying founder, to the dear Valdocco of their childhood.
On December 17th thirty penitents awaited their holy guide in his ante-room seeking mainly his decision in regard to vocations. All his life Don Bosco had been the apostle of the confessional, and it was currently said of him that no one in that age, except the sainted Curè of Ars, had heard so many confessions. It is a well-known fact that often the whole night wore away in this divine ministration to souls; and those penitents who had left consoled at the midnight hour, on returning early to the church for Mass and Communion, found Don Bosco still in the confessional, the last penitents of the long line still patiently waiting their turn. His infirmities of late had, indeed, forced him to limit the performance of this sacred duty to Wednesday and Saturday evenings; but he would not suffer anyone to be sent away. And now when his attendants, compassionating his weakness, begged leave to dismiss the eager group, he said gently, "No, let them come in; it is the last time." He heard their confessions, advised and consoled them in his leisurely, paternal manner, and they were, indeed, his last penitents.
Don Bosco's Study and Reception Room.
The Room where Don Bosco died.