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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 A LEGENDARY TALE OF WISCONSIN. 
 
 J3\T VST. A. AF=?IVlS-ri=?CDN&- 
 
 ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 MILWAUKEE, WIS.: 
 Cramer, Aikens <fc Cramer, Engravers and Printers. 
 
 1889. 
 
An 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by 
 
 W. A. ARMSTRONG, Milwaukee, Wis., 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, in Washington. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
pxhrough the instrumentality of one who 
 revered the place, and believed in its 
 mysteries, I visited the spot ; and to her I 
 respect full}" dedicate this hook. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
MIRACLE 4TlMx. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 3nfrobucfotg. 
 
 jp^HIS waif of the pen is launched upon the sea of 
 III? literature, freighted with impressions lingering 
 in the memory of the writer after repeated visits to a 
 remarkable place. 
 
 When the notes for the work were taken, the inten- 
 tion of the writer was to publish a journalistic sketch, 
 and embellish it by photography from the scenes that 
 lend enchantment to a place almost unknown to the 
 outside world. 
 
 As the task progressed, the importance of the sub- 
 ject became more apparent, which led him to change 
 the plan of publication to one permitting a portrayal 
 of greater detail, and one allowing a wider range for 
 the writer's conception of the beauties pervading the 
 theme. 
 
 The principal aim of the writer will be to embody 
 the pages with truth, and while his pen threads the 
 
(i MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 dominion of thought the atmosphere of reality that it 
 floats in will entertain, if it does not instruct. 
 
 There will be no effort made to convert the reader 
 to the belief that animates the people who worship at 
 the shrine written of. The subject will be viewed from 
 an unbiased standpoint, and treated with a tinge of 
 reverence, prompted by the wonders the place had the 
 power to inspire. 
 
 If allowed to speak in general terms of the church, 
 much could be written to interest those concerned in 
 church matters that others might deem irrelevant to 
 this subject; still, the writer feels like adding occasional 
 notes, even at the risk of appearing digressive. 
 
 The church has contributed food to the brain of all 
 ages, and it will continue a topic of conjecture in al] 
 time to come. In the astonishingly rapid growth of 
 this country it has been the great landmark of progress, 
 their white spires have shone in the moonlight by the 
 side of every public highway, and their shadows were 
 obliquely cast over graves reached only by the depths 
 of some lonely country lane. 
 
 The tendency of the church is to support the infirm ; 
 depravity may seek the shelter of its wing to hide 
 iniquity, but it does not prevent church influences from 
 sustaining the weak. 
 
 The church is the carpenter of character and the 
 joiner of sentiment; it frames an every-day life to fit a 
 spiritual existence. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 7 
 
 Though not always in immediate sympathy with 
 those who surround it, a church invariably exercises a 
 wholesome influence over the community in which it 
 exists. 
 
 An hour spent in an old Quaker meeting-house was 
 more instructive than the best day the writer ever 
 spent in school ; the bowed forms of mute worshipers, 
 immovable in silent prayer, though speechless, unfolded 
 pages of tender suggestions that never were forgotten. 
 
 The children who grow 7 up around an out of the way 
 church may, through the influence of parentage, be 
 skeptical of the precepts expounded from the pulpit, 
 but they never forget the lesson of respect inculcated 
 through the mediumship of the green mounds and 
 white headstones that embellish its silent old graveyard, 
 
 It was chance that directed the writer's attention to 
 this subject, yet investigation disclosed things that were 
 strange, and beliefs entirely new to him. There arose 
 so many varied points to add to the interest of the sub- 
 ject, that he wondered why, through the enterprise of 
 journalism, it had not been the recipient of greater 
 publicity before. 
 
 While the legendary history of this resort is known 
 to a comparative few, its more meritorious claims are 
 recognized by people living a great distance away, and 
 if the reader will follow the details of this book, he will 
 find proofs of the sincerity of the writer's opinion. 
 
 The spot has within itself the elements to foster 
 
8 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 romance or inspire belief, and if robbed of the phases 
 that attract the pious devotee, it still is resplendent in 
 secular beauty. It is unique in scenery, and weird in 
 tradition ; and while its simplicity charms, its quietness 
 soothes. 
 
 Unlike any other place, this has had no ambitious 
 prospects, or spur of moneyed expectations to advance 
 its interests. It never courted notoriety, or shunned 
 investigation. It quietly bore the odium of envy and 
 the ridicule of disbelief. It passed through all the dif- 
 ferent periods of probation. It Avas stranded on the 
 shoals of poverty, and floated with the tide of thrift. 
 It drifted, in simplicity, from the old year to the new r 
 with no ostentation, without effort, yet, by its unobtru- 
 sion, secured public confidence and commanded respect. 
 
 In his search for information the author has driven 
 to this spot in all seasons of the year. Spring, summer, 
 autumn and winter alike have found him jogging 
 over some of the hilly roads leading to the place, and 
 he never made the journey without feeling amply com- 
 pensated for the fatigue it was necessary to incur. The 
 more he investigated the peculiarities of the neighbor- 
 hood, the more he found that his pen was inadequate 
 to perform the task required of it, and the more he 
 saw, the more he felt incompetent to do the subject 
 justice. 
 
 This theme is one to awaken the tender susceptibili- 
 ties of youth without infringing upon the biased opinions 
 
A Spring Scene Close to the Entrance, Miracle Hill. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 11 
 
 of age, and it is more than likely it will interest some 
 treading the declivity that gently nears the end. People 
 in all ages, and in all conditions of life, long for mys- 
 ticism. Who is there but can remember how in child- 
 hood he listened eagerty to catch the details of a fireside 
 story of a weird performance? And to-day, if his eye, 
 in the reading of current events, alights upon an item 
 bordering on a mystery, it produces about the same 
 effect. 
 
 In the search for particulars for this work, the writer 
 was favorably impressed by the apparent truthfulness 
 of those interviewed, and the sincerity of others making 
 their pilgrimages to the church. The skeptic will doubt 
 and the scoffer may scorn the tales that fall from the 
 lips of those strong in the belief of the cures brought 
 about by a stay at this place ; but no argument, how- 
 ever logical, will shake the faith of those journeying 
 here for prayer. 
 
 The illustrations that embellish this little book are 
 the best that money could procure. The scenes are 
 real, and were obtained in detail by the author, with 
 care, for this work. Great pains were taken in the 
 selection of the views to combine the real with the 
 writer's conception of the ideal. How well he suc- 
 ceeded is left entirely to the judgment of those who 
 peruse these pages. 
 
 The story of the hermit of the hill, given as received, 
 is from the most authentic source at present obtainable, 
 
12 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 making all due allowance for the vagaries of years and 
 the ever-changing memories of men. 
 
 The history of the church and its origin is told as 
 it was gleaned from the Vicar-General of the diocese, 
 Mgr. Batz, and the pastor of the Arch-Diocese, who has 
 officiated on its feast days for years, and who kindly 
 aided in procuring much valuable information. 
 
An Earth- Cut on the Ascent. 
 
PART SECOND. 
 
 Zfo feegenb of gt (ttUrg'6 jljiff. 
 
 ANY years ago 
 a farmer, whose 
 home was among the 
 hills, was returning from 
 the neighboring village 
 of Hartford, late at night. The 
 round, full moon had just risen, 
 and as he approached Saint Mary's 
 Hill from the west, that eminence stood 
 in inky blackness between him and the 
 silvery eastern sky. The outline of 
 the hill was as sharply defined as a silhouette, and on 
 the very summit he saw the form of a cross and a kneel- 
 ing figure. He watched the strange apparition for an 
 hour, when the figure slowly rose and disappeared in 
 the black woods of the hillside. 
 
 Xot many mornings after he again saw the odd figure 
 on the top of the hill engaged in devotion. The advent 
 of the anchorite soon became generally known in the 
 neighborhood, and his home was discovered in a cave. 
 
16 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 which he had dug in a gorge, on the east side of 
 the hill. 
 
 No one disturbed him. His only occupation seemed 
 to be his pilgrimages to the hill-top to engage in prayer. 
 He gradually became sufficiently familiar with the 
 inhabitants to answer their friendly salutations, and 
 occasionally engaged in religious converse with them. 
 One farmer became his confidant, and to him he related 
 the following history : 
 
 His name was Francois Soubrio. He was born some 
 twenty miles from Strasburg, and, being of high birth, 
 was educated for the priesthood. He became enamored 
 of a lady near the monastery w r here he was pursuing 
 his course of study, and finding his passion recipro- 
 cated, renounced his priestly vows and became openly 
 betrothed. 
 
 Disgraced in the eyes of his family, and under the 
 ban of the church, he postponed his marriage, and 
 bidding farewell for a season to his affianced, he 
 resolved to banish himself and test the strength of both 
 his own and the lady's affection. 
 
 After two years he returned, and it was the same 
 old story of the absent lover and the faithless maid, 
 with a swain ever present to urge his suit. The evi- 
 dence of their unholy intimacy was so tangible that in 
 a frenzy of despair, urged on by a love now turned to 
 hate, he killed the faithless one and fled. 
 
 He again came to America, landing at Quebec, and 
 
THE LEGEND OF ST. MARY' S HILL. 17 
 
 became a recluse in one of the monasteries of the quaint 
 old city. Here he remained for years, tortured with 
 remorse for his recreancy to religious vows, and the 
 crime that lay even heavier on his heart. His only 
 relief was in prayer, penance, and delving among the 
 old French manuscripts found in the musty corners of 
 his retreat. 
 
 Among them was a partially mutilated diary kept 
 by Jacques Marquette during the summer and fall of 
 1673, in which was a detailed account of a memorable 
 voyage with Louis Joliet to the Mississippi River, via 
 the Fox and Wisconsin Rivers, returning up the Illinois 
 River and the western coast of Lake Michigan to 
 Green Bay, where the expedition first embarked. 
 
 His attention was particularly drawn to an expedi- 
 tion from a creek, where Marquette had landed on his 
 return voyage, a hard day's march west, to a steep and 
 lofty cone-shaped hill, which he climbed to the summit 
 and thereon erected a rude stone altar, raised a cross, 
 dedicated the spot as holy ground forever, in the name 
 of his tutelary saint, Mary, and left it towering in its 
 solitude. 
 
 Francois felt that the mission whereby to work out 
 his full atonement was declared to him. On his knees 
 he vowed to rediscover the holy hill and re-erect the 
 long ago moldered cross upon its summit. 
 
 From the description of the coast, and a rough map 
 
18 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 which was with the manuscript, he had little difficulty 
 in locating the spot. 
 
 Arriving in Chicago he was delayed in his journey 
 by a serious illness, which left him a confirmed para- 
 lytic, with only a partial use of his limbs. In this 
 crippled condition he at last reached the end of his 
 pilgrimage, and late one evening crawled through the 
 thick wood on his knees to the summit of the hill, where 
 he spent the remainder of the night in prayer to the 
 holy Saint Mary. With the dawn he rose from his knees 
 in all the vigor of his early manhood, his palsy gone, 
 his health restored. 
 
 On the spot where his miraculous cure was wrought, 
 he built a rude altar. Every day and night, often twice, 
 sometimes thrice a day he went up to this chapel to 
 offer devotion. So frequent were these pilgrimages that 
 the ceaseless tread of his feet defined the path amid the 
 trees. 
 
 As the days merged into months, and the months 
 were lost in years, this pathway widened to an exist- 
 ence that still remains a memento of his early devotion. 
 
 Along the path, at regular intervals, he erected rude 
 crosses, before which he knelt on his way to and from 
 the summit of the peak, often doing extreme penance 
 by making the pilgrimage on his bare knees. People 
 from all the country round had heard the wonderful 
 story of his miraculous cure, and numbers sought relief 
 
THE LEGEND OF ST. MARY'S HILL. 19 
 
 from their bodily ailments through prayer at the 
 hermit's shrine. 
 
 For seven years he remained in the vicinity, living 
 in the little hut, whose primitive condition is shown in 
 
 The Hermit's Hut. 
 
 detail by the picture, made ere it was stricken by the 
 blight of decay. Backed by the thick wood, its gable 
 and front was adorned by a nude figure, emblematic 
 of the belief of its strange occupant, The simplicity 
 
20 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 of the structure was in accordance with the primeval 
 character of the place, while the cross, all potent in the 
 faith, stood prominent in the foreground. The cross, 
 still leaning, exists ; but the cabin, like the hermit, has 
 disappeared — the one by the natural process of decay, 
 the other in mystery, as a light that glimmers to guide 
 the mariner on a rock-bound coast dies out without 
 reason, so he went out in the labyrinth of the world, 
 without cause. 
 
 A rumor was current that he was seen since, but it 
 was never authentically verified. We leave him to his 
 wanderings. Tradition says his apparition is sometimes 
 seen in the dusk of evening kneeling at one of the 
 brown crosses along his old path, or gliding in and out 
 of the chapel, where the sacred relics of his early shrine 
 are still kept. 
 
PART THIRD. 
 
 £0e CfartriB Z$<xi (gnftst Out (gtffentton. 
 
 pN Wisconsin, less than two hours' ride from the 
 ^L metropolis of the State, are a hill, a church and a 
 neighborhood famed far and near as the birth-place of 
 miracles. Here, through the invisible power of the place 
 alone, it is claimed, have marvelous cures been perfected, 
 and for thirty years the wonderful tales have been 
 growing in number and in interest. The illustrations 
 that embellish these pages are from photographs made 
 on the spot, and the view of the chapel shows leaning 
 against its columns the time-worn crutches discarded 
 by the pilgrims who to-day are living proofs of the mira- 
 cles performed, whether by faith alone or by the won- 
 drous power of the place, we leave others to judge. 
 
 " There are conservative people to whom incredulity 
 is a virtue in the face of all evidence ; yet it is unques- 
 tionable that the king's touch has cured scrofula. It is 
 undeniable that relics of St. Catharine have cured can- 
 cer of the tongue ; that an appeal to St. Lucia has cured 
 cataract, and to St. Appollonia toothache. Doctors have 
 
22 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 cured without touching the patient. Blue-glass has 
 overcome serious organic diseases. Faith-healers have 
 made the lame to walk and the blind to see." Why, 
 then, we ask in all candor, should the miracles attrib- 
 uted to this sacred place be questioned ? Here is the 
 quiet that only these surroundings can give. Here are 
 the bright skies, the pure air, the plain food, and the 
 exercise, that alone could renew an enervated system. 
 
 The place is known by various appellations, but the 
 usual designation is Holy Hill. In the original survey, 
 the title of Lapham's Peak was given it. Later it was 
 called Hermit's Hill by the people of the neighborhood, 
 although the church is known in the diocese as St. 
 Mary's Help of Christians, probably derived from the 
 legend that dedicated it to the Blessed Virgin Mary. It 
 is situated near the town line of Erin, in the County 
 of Washington, and is the highest point of land in 
 Eastern Wisconsin, being over eight hundred feet above 
 the level of Lake Michigan, and thirteen hundred feet 
 above the level of the sea. 
 
 The location is about equally distant from Richfield 
 and Hartford, stations on the Northern Division of the 
 Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railroad. It can be 
 reached also from Rugby Junction and Schleisingerville, 
 stations on the Wisconsin Central. The drive is best 
 from Hartford. The church can be seen from there, 
 standing in its solitude, eight miles away to the south- 
 west. It then is a mere speck to the vision, in a setting 
 
THE CHARMS THAT ENLIST OUR ATTENTION. 23 
 
 of changeable blue. The direction to it that a bird 
 would fly will not cover the round-about road that zig- 
 zags by section lines or school-house corners much 
 farther. A mariner's course is guided by a star; so 
 this church is a fixed point to the eye for quite a dis- 
 tance after leaving Hartford, but lost to sight long 
 before you get there by the crooked route, that, snake- 
 like, bends its way around the intervening hills. A 
 glimpse of it is sometimes caught from the right or 
 left, as the road winds around a prominent spur or 
 climbs a loftier peak, and as the distance diminishes, 
 the interest in the place increases. 
 
 "THE FESTIVAL OF THE ASSUMPTION. 
 
 " Yesterday, being the festival of Assumption, was 
 celebrated with customary fervor by the faithful at 
 Holy Hill, the noted place of pilgrimage in Washing- 
 ton County. 
 
 " Despite the murky atmosphere and oppressive heat 
 the attendance was very large, numbering fully 3,000. 
 People had come not only from the immediate neigh- 
 borhood but from Chicago, Lake Geneva, Burlington, 
 Franklin, Waterloo, Schleisingerville, Hartford, Beaver 
 Dam, Fox Lake and this city. Father Fessler, president 
 of Pio Nono College, St. Francis, arrived at an early 
 hour to hear confession, reading mass at 9 o'clock. 
 
 " Immediately thereafter confessions were continued 
 before four more priests until the celebration of high 
 
24 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 mass, at which the Rt. Rev. Vicar-General Batz offici- 
 ated, assisted by Fathers Fessler and Weyer, the Vicar- 
 General and Father Fessler delivering the sermons in 
 English and German respectively. There were some 
 160 communicants, who had come to seek relief. The 
 ceremony is said to have been an exceedingly impres- 
 sive one." 
 
 The above clipping from the Milwaukee Daily Sentinel 
 of August the 16th, 1888, is introduced here to show 
 the deep interest people living at a distance take in this 
 place. On the afternoon of August 14th, the writer 
 took his chances on a crowded train to attend the inter- 
 esting meeting just referred to. Arriving at Richfield, 
 an hour later, the conveyances were inadequate to the 
 task of transportation, unless willing to ride unpro- 
 tected in a drizzling rain. Subsequent information 
 reported, " besides those sleeping in the church, at least 
 forty could find no accommodations." 
 
 Reliable people, who have resided almost in the 
 shadows of this peak for twenty-five years, claim to tell 
 only what they can substantiate with proofs. They say 
 the cures here are attributable solely to the merits of 
 the place ; but as it is not within the province of the 
 writer to discuss this question, he will confine himself 
 to a narrative description of the church, the neighbor- 
 hood, and the predominating attractions that lure the 
 visitant to the spot. 
 
 The location of the property is in the midst of a 
 
THE CHARMS THAT ENLIST OUR ATTENTION. 25 
 
 territory that is wild by nature, and subdued only by 
 toil and perseverance. The hills still rise in their pris- 
 tine grandeur, yet the slopes are rich with verdure that 
 feed the wandering flocks. The place has no dizzy 
 heights to peer over, or rock-faced cliffs to scale ; yet 
 the rugged look on the face suggests a power, all 
 unseen. 
 
 It is entirely free from the turmoil that pervades 
 the busy haunts of men. The smoke from a workshop 
 never dimmed the rarity of the atmosphere, nor have 
 the echoes from a locomotive whistle ever disturbed 
 the dream of its solitude. The entire country that 
 surrounds the church is exceedingly uneven, when 
 viewed from any of the elevated points of observation. 
 Every approach is beset with steep hills, and as you 
 attain an eminence there is always something novel in 
 the gully below. A few tenantless cabins are scattered 
 in the vicinity that give a glimpse of desolation in a 
 land of milk and honey. The little patches that sur- 
 round these structures are symbols of ruin, the briars 
 and brambles vie for priority, or rule by an abundance 
 that strives to overwhelm. 
 
 With all the ups and downs that the face of this 
 country presents, there still are many thrifty people 
 engaged in the husbandry of these rough acres. They 
 are generally of foreign extraction and, with primitive 
 habits, prosper, while those to the manor born might 
 fail. They seem satisfied with their mode of life, and 
 
26 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 have a notable reverence for the miraculous hill, and 
 the legends pertaining to it. 
 
 If a being could be spirited to this spot in a dream, 
 and, like Rip Van Winkle, awake to reality at a season 
 when all nature was in the full flush of her most enchant- 
 ing power, his surprise would be equally astounding. 
 After the first frosts of an autumn foreboding has 
 changed the color of the leaves, the scene beggars 
 description. The foliage then assumes the brightest 
 attire ever donned by nature, and every twig is radiant 
 in its holiday garb. A level acre is not within the 
 radius of the eye, and every peak and indenture has 
 some tree or bush thrown in relief by a contrast of 
 gayety. All the varied hues indigenous to this lovely 
 spot greet the eye with delight in endless confusion. The 
 knobs are resplendent with beams from hard wood 
 leaves, while the slopes sink meltingly subdued until 
 they are indefinably lost in the deep red of the sumac 
 that fringes the bottom. 
 
 The church is a conspicuous object to all the neigh- 
 boring country. Its elevated position enables the resi- 
 dents within a radius of ten miles to point the stranger 
 with pride to the " Church of Miracles." The swain 
 who treads the furrow in the wake of his plow, and 
 the maid who chirps her song at milking time, both 
 pause in their task to look at this beacon of hope. 
 
 As I viewed it from the valley upon one of its un- 
 approachable sides, a feeling of veneration, akin to awe, 
 
An Autumnal View or the Church. 
 
THE CHARMS THAT ENLIST OUR ATTENTION. 29 
 
 crept over me. Upon a cone-shaped peak, almost cir- 
 cular in form, and thickly covered to its base with 
 rocks and tough timber, stood the church. 
 
 As a landmark to guide, and an emblem of faith, 
 it is strikingly beautiful and prominently alone. Its 
 gold cross glistens in the bright summer sun, and 
 trembles like the stricken deer in the rude winter wind. 
 All through the long day, and deep in the dark night, 
 like a sentinel to guard the weird mysteries, it keeps 
 the lonely watch ; and when the shadows of evening 
 spread their misty mantle of dew, it towers there still, 
 in its isolated solitude. 
 
 It is the only place of the kind on this vast conti- 
 nent. The story of the hermit dates the consecration 
 as holy ground back to 1673 — over two hundred years. 
 It was dedicated then to the tutelage of the Blessed 
 Mary, and it remains after two centuries, with growing 
 popularity, devoted to the same purposes. No paro- 
 chial duties were ever performed in its sanctuary ; no 
 hands clasped in wedlock or hearts bound in fear. No 
 funeral procession has ever wended the way to its portals, 
 or burial service been read from its altar, and it is the 
 only church in the Catholic faith that is devoid of that 
 quaint emblem of mortality, a grave-yard. Nowhere in 
 the range of vision are the white stones that call up 
 the goblins of retrospection. 
 
 The knob, or peak, upon which the church is built, 
 is just large enough to leave a walk around it. From 
 
30 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 this walk there is an extended view for many miles in 
 every direction. The spires of half a dozen other 
 churches (as beacons of faith), in the distance, point 
 heavenward, and on a bright, clear spring day the white 
 sails of vessels are discernable thirty miles to the east 
 on the great inland sea. The spire of St. Augustine is 
 seen in the east, St. Patrick in the west, St. Killian in 
 the northeast, a little north of east St. John's, due north 
 twelve miles in the distance is St. Lawrence, while 
 southeast stands St. Marv's of Richfield. 
 
PART FOURTH. 
 
 tk 0ro*$ of f0e 0>\xx$. 
 
 BOUT forty years ago, Dr. Paulhuber became the 
 J/^L owner of the Hill property, and on the eve of 
 departure for Europe he donated it to the Arch-Diocese 
 of Milwaukee. By law the property after Paulhuber's 
 transfer was not taxable. It happened that the prop- 
 erty adjoining was sold for taxes, and by mistake the 
 deed was made to cover the hill property. This error 
 encumbered it. The Vicar-General assumed the re- 
 sponsibility, and cleared its title, the money being- 
 raised by contribution. One enthusiastic individual 
 made his will in favor of the church, and from that 
 will the diocese realized four thousand dollars. 
 
 Many years ago, Father J. B. Haslbaum was instru- 
 mental in the erection of a cross upon the summit of 
 the hill. The man who is entitled to the credit of put- 
 ting it in place still lives within the shadow of the 
 peak. What memories must cluster in the brain of a 
 man who has seen the frosts of forty winters gather in 
 this vicinity ! 
 
 In the year 1861, the Rev. George Strickner, then 
 
32 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 pastor of St. Boniface, now in his private retreat at 
 Sheboygan, encouraged by the neighbors residing in the 
 vicinity, assisted in building the first rude chapel. It 
 was erected on an elevation twenty feet higher than the 
 present summit, which had to be cut down from its 
 cone-shaped pinnacle to get ground room in length and 
 breadth for the present more commodious edifice. 
 
 It was on the twenty-fourth da} 7 of May, 1863, that 
 the first procession wended its way up a narrow path, 
 almost enclosed by shrubbery and underbrush, to the 
 top of the hill, where the little chapel was blessed, and 
 the first sermon was preached from the threshold of a 
 rude hut to a multitude that had gathered and densely 
 covered every available spot. How the people got the 
 material for this structure into place is still an enigma, 
 as the logs had to be carried up on the shoulders of men. 
 
 The Reverend Ferdinand Raes, when pastor of 
 Richfield, took charge of the hill, and at regular inter- 
 vals held divine service there. Finding that the little 
 chapel would not accommodate the many pilgrims, he, 
 with the consent of Archbishop Henni, commenced the 
 present structure, for which he took up collections in a 
 number of parishes in the Arch-Diocese. 
 
 The corner-stone of the present edifice was laid in 
 1879, and the church was formally dedicated in 1882, 
 being three years in building. The cost of the church 
 has been very great in proportion to the simplicity of 
 its unfinished interior. The brick were made at the 
 
THE GROWTH OF THE CHURCH. 33 
 
 foot of the hill, and cost thirteen dollars a thousand, 
 which added greatly to the expense of the structure ; 
 and it must have been a Herculean task to get the 
 material to the summit to finish it. 
 
 It is now maintained entirely by the contributions 
 of the pilgrims. As a place of pilgrimage it is more 
 attractive without a resident pastor, and it is presided 
 over on feast-days generally by the Rt. Rev. Vicar - 
 Gen'l Batz, of Milwaukee. All neighboring priests, in 
 good standing, are welcome to officiate, and they cheer- 
 fully do so when called upon. 
 
 There are certain days for solemn services, at which 
 there is always a large attendance. 
 
 May the twenty-fourth is the titular feast of the 
 church, termed the " Feast of St. Mary's Help of Chris- 
 tians." 
 
 June the seventeenth, the " Feast of the Sacred Heart 
 of Jesus." 
 
 July the second, the " Feast of Visitation of the 
 Blessed Virgin." 
 
 August the fifteenth, the " Feast of the Assumption," 
 always a day of holy obligations, and largely attended. 
 
 September the eighth, the "Feast of the Nativity." 
 
 October, as a rule the day following the first Sun- 
 day, "Feast of the Solemnity of the Holy Rosary." 
 
 The attendance on feast-days in good weather is 
 always large. Two thousand people frequently attend 
 services at one time. The religious character of the 
 
34 
 
 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 place exercises a strange power ami a soothing influence 
 over its visitants. Many " who go to scoff, remain to 
 pray." 
 
 At intervals there are other devotional exercises by 
 different priests, but the above are stated services and 
 under control at present of the Rev. N. M. Zimmer, of 
 Hartford, whose picture, accompanying this sketch is 
 from a photograph made a few days before the publi- 
 cation of this work. 
 
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 3\N§ 
 
 
 
 IPSP 
 
 
 
 jTTTM 
 
 
 
 IPBffiSlllI 
 
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 BSb^^lfex ; - ■ ■• 1f^=|5i 
 
 
 
 The Approach from Hartford. 
 
PART FIFTH. 
 
 grange Stcfe, anb (pfeasant §<xncfcz. 
 
 " The sun had just reached out and kissed 
 The tree tops, from his cowl of mist ; 
 And, spreading far as eye could gaze, 
 There rose a tender sea of haze, 
 That made the landscape dim, but fair, 
 As gauze more sweet makes pictures rare." 
 
 — Mrs. Cornie Law, St. John. 
 
 S the traveler approaches the Miracle Grounds 
 Jl^L by the road from Hartford, the church lies off 
 directly to the right, across the intervening fields and 
 foot-hills, less than a mile away. Looking up the rise 
 of the roadway, the carriage going over the brow of the 
 hill is on a direct line between the church and the old 
 log house that is pictured on another page. Just over 
 the top of this little rise, and to the right, within fifty 
 feet of where the carriage is seen, there is a gate, the 
 first gate that admits the visitor to the hallowed pre- 
 cincts made sacred through the dedication of a peak, 
 by an old French missionary, two hundred and fifteen 
 years ago. 
 
 Upon those deeply tinged with susceptibility prox- 
 
38 
 
 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 imity to this consecrated spot exerts a subtle influence. 
 Being preoccupied with thoughts pertaining to the 
 strange tales and weird illusions that cluster so thickly 
 around the place, the writer drove listlessly past the 
 plain barred entrance gate that is hardly perceptible on 
 the approach from the west. The day was new, the air 
 was sweet as baby's breath ; yet, oblivious to all, in a 
 phantasy of meditation, his brain was fraught with the 
 mystic imaginings, entitled — 
 
 A DREAM OF THE MOMENT. 
 
 Visions of cripples in helpless infirmity, 
 
 Toiling to get to this Mecca of prayer ; 
 Forms that were fashioned by kinks of 
 adversity, 
 
 Figures with energy born of despair. 
 
 Eyes that were sightless, and steps of 
 uncertainty, 
 Looks that appealed to a heart made of stone ; 
 Tears that could play on the lute strings of sympathy, 
 Chords that since childhood had slumbered un- 
 known. 
 
 The long line of spectres grew 
 dim in the distance, 
 Still there were others just 
 rounding to view. 
 As bubbles that germ in the 
 foam of a breaker 
 Their forms were as odd as 
 their phases were new. 
 
 A thin mist obscures the expanse of an ocean. 
 
 A cloud intervening will cut off the sun. 
 So thus, when I sought to hold closer communion 
 
 The phantoms receded, the vision had flown. 
 
Entrance to the Meadow, and Church as Seen from There. 
 
STRANGE FACTS, AND PLEASANT FANCIES. 41 
 
 The first entrance gate is on the side of a gentle 
 declivity, and almost directly in front of a quaint look- 
 ing log house that backs against a hill with gable end 
 
 A Quaint House, Near the Entrance. 
 
 to the road. The dilapidated condition of this structure 
 is in marked contrast to the thriftiness of the miracle 
 church property. The prominence of the front of the 
 
42 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 house, that almost overhangs the roadway, is increased 
 by a board addition that is suspended from the project- 
 ing roof, leaving a protruding floor that is reached from 
 the ground by a crude, unenclosed stairway, starting 
 from the ground at the corner of the house, and land- 
 ing over the basement door in the middle of the over- 
 hanging room. The steep slope behind and to the left 
 of the house is covered with a growth of trees and under- 
 brush, while on the opposite side, the gate is attached to 
 a rough split-rail fence, resting on rock boulders, gath- 
 ered in an early day from what is now a sweet-scented 
 meadow. 
 
 From the gate our course was by the confines of this 
 meadow, whose edge is fringed with berry bushes and 
 wild flowers. In the distance could be heard the sound 
 of a mowing machine, while the breeze came fragrant 
 with the delicate odor of fresh-cut hay. This drive ends, 
 amid rocks and stones, in a rough little grove, whose 
 trees cast their shadows almost to the foot of the double 
 picket gate that guards the entrance to the praying 
 ground. An open panel in the fence to the left of this 
 gate shows the road that leads directly on around the 
 base of the spur that forms the pocket of the gorge. 
 This road carries the visitor by the point just described, 
 into the low-land of the meadow, directly underneath 
 the shadow of the church hill, and to the only house of 
 entertainment on the grounds. 
 
 Looking beyond the gate, to the left, is seen an iso- 
 
The Picket Gate in Winter. 
 
STRANGE FACTS, AND PLEASANT FANCIES. 45 
 
 lated tree. Upon the rock at its root the scribe loitered 
 in quiet contemplation. The ground to the right was 
 closely covered with a scrubby growth of underbrush, 
 topped by a wealth of red sumac. A cut in the earth 
 
 A Praying Station— Winter. 
 
 modified the rise as the road curved to the left through 
 the hill. To the right, on the top of the bank, between 
 the edge and the rustic rail fence, stood an unpreten- 
 tious wooden cross, which is the first of the fourteen 
 
46 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 praying stations, that have added so much to the celeb- 
 rity of the place. Around these posts hover the strange 
 traditions and weird suggestions of the dead past, and, 
 like the monitors of a dim past, they line the path from 
 gate to summit. Each is a simple wooden upright 
 crossed by an arm. Above and below the arm at each 
 end are attached half circular blocks, to relieve the 
 plainness. Where the arm is joined to the upright, 
 inserted in the wood, is a small water-color picture, com- 
 memorative of some event in the crucifixion, and covered 
 by a glass to protect it from the elements. The crosses 
 are all painted a brown umber color, and at the base of 
 each is a rude foot-stool, made from pine plank, to allow 
 the devotee to kneel in meek supplication. Daily, dur- 
 ing propitious seasons, are afflicted people in all stages 
 of decrepitude making the journey to and from the 
 church. They stop to pray, or toil wearily on, as their 
 age or infirmities permit. There have been others who 
 made continued laborious pilgrimages to the place, 
 believing that the greater the amount of suffering they 
 bore, the more certain would be the intercession of the 
 saints for their relief. Some move slowly and on bended 
 knees. It is said that weak and delicate women have 
 made the journey in shotted shoes which bathed their 
 feet in blood ; thus emulating the example of the martyrs 
 of old who by their sufferings proved themselves faith- 
 fully heroic. 
 
 In Jerulasem, about the year 1342, the Friars Minor 
 
STRANGE FACTS, AND PLEASANT FANCIES. 47 
 
 of St. Francis — commonly termed the Franciscan monks 
 — were successful in enkindling a veneration for these 
 crosses. They erected stations in their churches to the 
 number of fourteen, which they termed "The Way of 
 the Cross." They represented the path traversed by the 
 Redeemer, laden with his cross, from the house of Pon- 
 tius Pilate, to Mount Calvary and the Holy Sepulchre. 
 To encourage the faithful to undertake pilgrimages to 
 these sacred places, certain indulgences were granted 
 by the Popes, conditional upon the fulfillment of specific 
 requirements. To gain the indulgences of " The Way 
 of the Cross," it is necessary to go from station to station. 
 It will not suffice to merely look upon the crosses from 
 the same spot. But if, on account of a great crowd, a 
 person could not go from one station to another, it would 
 suffice to kneel and rise to each cross. " The Way of 
 the Cross " can be performed either privately or sol- 
 emnly in the church where it is established, provided 
 the meditations are sincerely pious on each of the 
 fourteen mysteries. 
 
 Climbing the ascent to the first praying station, and 
 turning our back to the cross, we can look through the 
 foliage of the tree near the gate, previously spoken of, to 
 the home of the resident farmer. The buildings here are 
 primitive in their mode of construction. They are all 
 built of logs hewn with an ax, and while unpretentious, 
 are at least substantial. The view is over the picket fence 
 of the garden patch to the back door of the dwelling in 
 
48 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 the centre of the group. The barn, wagon-house and corn 
 
 crib are to the right ; to the left a low log out-kitchen. 
 
 For the next six hundred feet the rise seems like 
 
 a country road that has turned from the main traveled 
 
 Home of the Kesident Farmer. 
 
 way to some secluded retreat. At this point the road 
 crosses the head of the gorge, where a glance to the left 
 discloses a view that rivals in beauty the splendors of 
 an Alpine prospect. Being at a height to look down 
 
STRANGE FACTS, AND PLEASANT FANCIES. 49 
 
 upon the house whose hospitality is proverbial, we view 
 with interest the place where the poor and afflicted 
 receive good food, clean beds, and the attention con- 
 tributed only by good Samaritans without the hope of 
 pecuniary benefit. In this respect, too, is the place 
 bordering on the miraculous, as, in this State, noted for 
 its summer resorts, there are no others conducted on a 
 principle to give more than they get pay for. 
 
 As we gaze from our elevated position, in the fore- 
 ground, almost beneath our feet, is an unpretentious 
 two-story frame structure upon a firm stone basement. 
 A veranda on the first floor is covered by a roof whose 
 shingles glisten in the sun, while the wind idly flaps the 
 clean linen blinds beneath the half-closed sash. A ser- 
 pentine path bends to the left as the gorge widens in 
 the meadow, while a stump, a stack, or a crude fence, 
 breaks the distance in the rolling fields to the east. 
 
 A foot-path from the house is intercepted by a rustic 
 fence that marks the boundary line of the cultivated 
 patch that extends up the rise to the road. (See Path 
 from the Meadow, page 55.) The parallel rows of fruit 
 trees show how the spot teems with culture on its sunny 
 slope. A light mantle of snow had fallen among the 
 hills the morning this view was taken, and no trace of a 
 foot-step was visible on the ground gone over that day. 
 
 In marked contrast was the appearance of the place 
 and the way to it in mid-winter to the aspect they bore 
 
50 
 
 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 in summer. The journey under a bright sky and a warm 
 air was enlivened by the song of birds, the darting of a 
 %^f squirrel, or the form of 
 
 a peasant in pursuit of 
 his daily avocation of 
 life ; but there was 
 nought to break the 
 monotony of the cold 
 drive now. The sturdy 
 yeomanry were seeking 
 warmth by the fire that 
 lacked strength to thaw 
 the ice on a frost-coated 
 -f*" pane; all animal life 
 
 were housed, except a lone cow, that, sheltered by a 
 stack, twirled her cud of contentment in shivering 
 seclusion. 
 
 While Hartford was bleak and dismal for the want 
 of snow, the peaks and tips up near the hill were 
 inviting in their garb of crisp white. Winter in this 
 section strongly resembles the same season among the 
 foot-hills on the eastern slope of the Alleghany 
 Mountains. The cabin that clings to the side hill, and 
 the stream that tumbles through the gorge, are almost 
 one and the same. At the hill, all things were clothed 
 in a fleecy covering of pure white. The tops of fences 
 glistened in the weak winter sun, while the footstools 
 at the base of each cross had a soft, downy cushion of 
 
The Benevolent Home in the Gorge. (See page 49.) 
 
STRANGE FACTS, AND PLEASANT FANCIES. 53 
 
 snow. An intense quiet brooded over all ; not a sound 
 to break the day-dream of silence, except the whiff of 
 the ever-present wind as it industriously gathered 
 myriads of white particles from a peak to bury them 
 in some notch. The entire absence of life, the ominous 
 loneliness of the spot, combined with the clean, unpol- 
 luted look of every snow-laden tree, bush and twig, 
 impressed the beholder with a sense of the sanctity, and 
 purity of the place. It called up the lines : 
 
 "Alone, and yet not all alone, 
 I am with Him, and He's with me." 
 
 Such surroundings require but a moment of sincere 
 contemplation to place a man close to his Creator and 
 teach him his own utter insignificance. 
 
 From the place where the foot-path joins the road, 
 the rise is steep, with abrupt turns, and it requires a 
 good horse to draw a light buggy up the incline. The 
 approach is from the rear of the church to the right, 
 over a series of foot-hills to the gorge, which is still quite 
 a distance from the summit. Above the gorge a crooked 
 old path turns to the left as a short-cut. This is the 
 pathway first defined by the feet of the hermit, and 
 for years was the only way. The first close view of the 
 church is from a sharp bend some fifty feet lower than 
 the entrance, as the tired pedestrian toils wearily to the 
 left; and as it looms abruptly out of the clouds, his 
 weary feeling is mingled with surprise, and astonish- 
 ment — surprise that an edifice of such pretensions should 
 
54 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 have been erected in a place so inaccessible to the mul- 
 titude from whom it was likely to derive support ; and 
 astonishment that so stupendous an undertaking could 
 be successfully consumated upon a basis of faith alone. 
 Faith that in the hearts of the people there was suffi- 
 cient veneration for the spot to preserve its sanctity and 
 insure its completion. A debt of eighteen thousand 
 dollars to stare the staid, sober and well-intentioned 
 people in the face, and nothing but voluntary contribu- 
 tions to pay it ! Think of this, ye skeptics, who measure 
 everything by the dollars and cents in sight, and tell 
 me if the mysteries of the place are common. 
 
 If the aim of the founders was to erect this church 
 in a place least likely to be susceptible to worldly influ- 
 ences, they have chosen a spot most appropriate. The 
 climb extends to within five feet of the door- way, as 
 the structure is upon the very summit of the knob. It 
 is a plain, neat, brick building, of modern architecture, 
 ornamented with double stone caps on the projecting 
 corners and sides, Gothic windows, and surmounted with 
 a substantial wooden belfry, tipped with a gold cross. 
 
 As I paused to note the singularity of the location, 
 I realized the strange features of the spot. The close 
 cut shadows at the base of the church wall told the hour 
 of high noon ; yet the only sound to interrupt a death- 
 like stillness was the quaking leaves of the branches 
 near me, swaying gently with a summer breeze. As I 
 
The Path from the Meadow — Winter Scene. 
 
STRANGE FACTS, AND PLEASANT FANCIES. 57 
 
 mused on the solitude of the place, and the solemnity 
 of the theme, I listened to the mournful cadence of the 
 night wind, whispering to the latticed belfry a tale of 
 romance that will ever cling to the place with tradi- 
 tional persistency. Dreaming, I peered through the 
 dim mist of a past half century, to the night the crippled 
 hermit crawled through the thick wood to this isolated 
 peak. In the gathering gloom of a cold autumn eve' I 
 beheld the bent form of the recluse, weak from illness 
 and exhaustion, dragging his palsied limbs over rocks 
 and tough undergrowth, to this lonely peak in the wild- 
 erness, to pay the penalty of an early sin. 
 
 Surely mere faith could not sustain a being under 
 such circumstances. Only inspiration or a great revealed 
 truth could buoy him up to consumate such a herculean 
 task. Indirectly, the romance of his life was instru- 
 mental in rededicating this hill to a holy purpose. Had 
 he not become an anchorite, the musty old manuscript 
 would have mouldered to dust in the oblivion of a con- 
 vent, and this story, with its faults, untold. 
 
 A certain elation pervades the mind of a being after 
 attaining a height to which he is entirely unaccustomed. 
 There is a buo}^ancy of spirits, an exaltation, that fits 
 him to admire his surroundings. Besides, an inherent 
 perception teaches that all blessings come from above. 
 We are prone to look up to the blue firmament as the 
 home of the angels. The soothing power of peace and 
 the fire of inspiration alike emanate from the same 
 
58 
 
 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 unfathomable space. Alone in this space, and fixed as 
 the stars that twinkle over it, the spire holds compan- 
 ionship with the clouds 
 that incessantly change. 
 Immovable among the 
 unrealities it is encircled 
 by the shadowy forms 
 of a spiritual existence. 
 It drips with d e w or 
 flashes back the sheen 
 of frost. It can tran- 
 quily note the dying 
 flicker of a low cabin 
 light, yet is there to reflect the first beam of a bright 
 morning sun. While its solitude appalls, its loneliness 
 makes a prominent mark for the shafts of capricious 
 elements, and when the tempests of heaven in fury 
 break over this cross of gold, the spirit that rides on the 
 storm will gather the prayers from the altar. 
 
 The church spire is on the end, over the main 
 entrance of double doors, which open under a circular 
 gallery, attached by the ends to both sides of the church. 
 The interior is cheerful, and well-lighted by the tall 
 windows of stained glass, whose varied colors tend to 
 give a subdued illumination to the chapel. The dome 
 or roof is supported by six sanded columns, whose 
 slender proportions increase the height and beauty of the 
 
A Close View of the Church. (See page 54.) 
 
STRANGE FACTS, AND PLEASANT FANCIES. 61 
 
 place. The chancel is nicely carpeted, and separated 
 from the chapel by a low, latticed communion rail of 
 wood, covered with dark cloth, extending across to 
 narrow passageways on each side. In the chancel there 
 are one main and two side altars. The combined cost 
 of the three altars was eleven hundred dollars, and was 
 contributed by persons interested in the welfare of the 
 church. Back of the mensa, and projecting from un- 
 derneath the canopy of the main altar, stands the taber- 
 nacle or receptacle of the blessed sacrament, built in ac- 
 cordance with the rules of Catholic architecture, having 
 a double door, with lock and key, nicely ornamented in 
 gold with grapes and heads of wheat, the emblems of 
 the blessed sacrament, Underneath and in front of the 
 mensa is a figure of the Lamb of God resting on a sealed 
 book. The candelabra, and many of the accessories 
 pertaining to the faith, were also the gifts of charitably 
 disposed persons. 
 
 The vestry room is a low addition on the rear and 
 side, close to the bluff that overlooks the valley, with its 
 farms and improvements, hundreds of feet below. The 
 main body of the interior is still in an unfinished con- 
 dition. There are nothing but low, crude, plank seats, 
 without backs, laid upon cut blocks, for the worshipers 
 to rest upon ; but even these must bring a sigh of relief 
 to some of the tired toilers of the hill. 
 
 To the right in the chancel, suspended from the side 
 wall, hangs a square case, with glass front, entitled a 
 
62 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 " votive tablet ". In this a part of the sacred relics ol 
 the shrine are preserved. Among the vow offerings in- 
 closed are three pairs of spectacles, left here as proofs of 
 the efficacy of the place in the restoration of sight to 
 those whose vision had been impaired by disease. 
 
 There are also stored, generally in some nook or 
 window recess, a number of well-worn crutches. They 
 are the accumulation of years, and were left by pil- 
 grims whose infirmities were removed by the invisible 
 power that controls the weird destiny of the place. 
 
Interiok View op the Church. (See page 54.) 
 
PART SIXTH. 
 
 JJome of f0e Curee. 
 
 Taking life's pathway through, 
 Think how little we know 
 
 Of the load that our neighbor must bear ! 
 We're inclined to be bright, 
 If our burden is light, 
 
 Yet we'd sink with the half he could spare. 
 
 ¥HE writer originally intended to dispense with the 
 details of the perfected cures, but an expressed 
 desire on the part of some who admired the subject, led 
 him to vary a little from his plan, and give the history of 
 a few well-authenticated cases. Still he has no inclina- 
 tion to mar the beauty of the work by loading it, 
 like a patent medicine pamphlet, with voluminous 
 testimonials. 
 
 The list of cures, as compiled by competent au- 
 thority, includes Saint Vitus' dance, epilepsy, ophthal- 
 mia, paralysis, rheumatism, melancholy, cancer, stiffness 
 of limbs, and acute sufferings in other forms. 
 
 For thirty years this place has been accumulating 
 the catalogue, and while the most of those interviewed 
 speak enthusiastically, a few are reticent who claim to 
 be the recipients of great relief. 
 
66 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 Chicago Tribune special, speaking of this place, says : 
 " During the course of my investigations as to the tra- 
 ditions of the hill, in the line of miracles, I made the 
 acquaintance of an intelligent German farmer, Matt. 
 Werner, who has kept for years a sort of public house, 
 at which great numbers of religious pilgrims have 
 stopped during their sojourn at the hill, and he has had 
 an excellent opportunity to inform himself as to the 
 truth of their stories. He is himself a zealous, though 
 not a bigoted Catholic, and a man of excellent repute 
 among his neighbors. The following is his statement of 
 a few cures, as nearly in his own language as possible : 
 
 Cure A: " Louis Marms, of Hartford, was the first 
 man I knew to be cured on the hill. When he came 
 there he had no use of his limbs below the knee, but 
 went on crutches. He went on the hill every day, and 
 one day a lady came into my house and asked two 
 neighbors who were there to go up the hill and help 
 the poor man down, as he was very bad and could not 
 kneel, sit, or lie down, and that he was crying out with 
 pain all the time. I was laid up in bed, and the neigh- 
 bors were playing cards with me. Before we had finished 
 our game we heard some one singing and shouting, and 
 looking out saw Marms coming along on one crutch 
 and swinging the other in his hand. The next day he 
 left one crutch at the church, and the following day left 
 the other and walked with a cane only. I said to him 
 
SOME OF THE CURES. 67 
 
 then I could not believe he. had been as bad off as he 
 pretended. At this the tears came in his eyes, and he 
 showed me his limbs and his feet, which were nothing 
 but skin and bone. This was several years ago, and 
 since that time Marms has become entirely well, and is 
 a big, heavy, healthy man. He recently kept a store 
 at Hartford, where he Avas known as 'Cheap John.' ' 
 
 Cure B : " In 1881 an Englishman, who kept a 
 hotel in La Salle, 111., came and stopped with me for a 
 while. He was seventy or eighty years old, and bald- 
 headed, but he would go up on the hill, in the hot sun, 
 without any hat. He said that before he came to the 
 hill he could not be out in the sun on a hot day without 
 having a terrible headache. He could run about here 
 bare-headed till his head was blistered, but had no pain. 
 He was a Protestant when he came, but became a 
 Catholic." 
 
 Cure C: "I have heard, Mr. Werner, of a case 
 of a child that could not walk, and never had walked a 
 step, that was brought by the mother to the hill at the 
 age of five years. My informant says that one day 
 when the mother was sitting on a bench in the church, 
 another lady kneeling at some distance, dropped her 
 handkerchief, whereupon the child slid off her mother's 
 lap, and, walking over, picked it up. He says he saw 
 that himself Do you know anything about it?" I 
 
68 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 asked. " Yes, sir," he answered. " I saw it, too. It is 
 true." 
 
 Cure D : In the town of Richfield, less than two 
 miles south of Miracle Hill, and close to the St. Augus- 
 tine church property, is the residence of Mr. John 
 George Merkel. In the year 1882, Mr. Merkel was 
 seriously afflicted with what proved to be a cancer of a 
 malignant type. For two years it baffled all medical 
 skill, and continued to eat away his nose and face. 
 Besides the prescriptions given by physicians, he used 
 all the domestic remedies known and suggested by 
 those interested in his case, without in the least retard- 
 ing the encroachments of the fell disease. Having been 
 prepared for death by the priest, he shrank from the 
 operation to be performed by a surgeon's knife, and as 
 a last resource he had recourse to Miracle Hill. His 
 cure seeming beyond the pale of doubt, and his time 
 on earth short, he took a vow to make a pilgrimage 
 to the hill, and repeat a certain prayer^ every evening 
 of his few remaining days. Strange to relate after the 
 fulfillment of his resolution, for a short time, the rav- 
 ages of the cancer apparently began to abate. Sustained 
 by an additional hope of a cure, he now unfalteringly 
 journeyed to the summit of the peak, and racked his 
 brain for expedients to add to the sincerity of his 
 devotion. After the lapse of two years his health was 
 entirely restored, and now, at the age of seventy -seven, he 
 
SOME OF THE CURES. 69 
 
 is able to perform the duties of a stone mason. 
 Elizabeth Merkel, his wife, testifies to the above facts. 
 
 Cure E: Miss Clara Kroeger, daughter of Casper 
 Kroeger, 416 Mineral Street, Milwaukee, Wis., had 
 been afflicted with a disease peculiar to the eye, known 
 as ophthalmia, until she was almost blind. She had 
 been under the treatment of an eminent occulist for 
 two years without a sign of relief or hope of a cure. 
 Her father had heard of the wonderful cures perfected 
 by a sojourn at Miracle Hill, and believed that his 
 daughter, who was then twelve years of age, could be 
 benefited by a pilgrimage to the place. He had 
 instilled her with his belief and she became convinced 
 of its efficacy. Thither the father and daughter jour- 
 neyed on a bright day in June, 1886, and on the morn- 
 ing of the day on which they ascended the hill, the 
 girl was obliged to use artificial means to open her eyes. 
 Father and daughter climbed the rugged slope, hand-in- 
 hand, praying for relief as they toiled to the summit of 
 the peak, the daughter making the vows or promises 
 usual among those of her faith, and the father sustain- 
 ing her by the wisdom of his counsel. The}' were there 
 but one day, but she left her glasses in the church. The 
 following morning she had no trouble in opening her 
 eyes, or in seeing everything. The father returned home 
 with her apparently as well as ever. She immediately 
 resumed her studies at school, completely cured, nor 
 
70 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 has she ever experienced any trouble with her eyesight 
 since. Both the father and daughter, through a spirit 
 of gratitude, make a pilgrimage once a year to the 
 sacred place to renew their vows, and by their devo- 
 tion give a manifestation of thankfulness. The young 
 lady is just budding into womanhood now. Her father 
 is the junior partner in the well known dry-goods house 
 of " Kroeger Brothers" of this city. 
 
 Cure F: Mr. A. Scherrer, of New Munster, Wis., 
 Avhile shooting squirrels, August 25th, 1887, met with a 
 serious accident, which threatened for a time to destroy 
 his sight. The breech-pin of a muzzle-loading gun blew 
 out with the discharge and the powder filled his eyes 
 and face. The right eye, being open to sight the weapon, 
 received the burning charge, causing the most intense 
 pain. After two weeks close attention the physician 
 declared his inability to give him relief, and advised a 
 consultation with a well-known occulist in the City of 
 Milwaukee. After submitting to an operation by one 
 skilled in his calling, he was, for three months, a victim 
 of great suffering, which continued almost without 
 cessation. In the latter part of the following July and 
 August he was again under treatment in the city, with 
 no abatement of the acute misery, except when the eye 
 was under the influence of an anaesthetic that made 
 him oblivious to its intensity for a few hours, after which 
 it returned with increased severity, when he would 
 
SOME OF THE CURES. 71 
 
 suffer untold agony. In this condition he was at last 
 induced to visit Miracle Hill. I give the cure in 
 his own words: "The first time I went up the hill I 
 was unable to observe any relief, but the next day, while 
 in the chapel of the church, the pain left me. Since 
 then it has not returned and I can see and bear the 
 light which I could not endure before." 
 
 Cure G: The case of Miss Ida M. Kl ingle, of Bur- 
 lington, Wis., aged 21, was the only cure that came 
 under the immediate observation of the writer. She 
 was the one lone occupant of the deserted chapel on a 
 bright day in June, 1887, and the first time he ever 
 looked into the interior of the Miracle Hill church. 
 She had suffered acutely with weak and inflamed eyes 
 a number of years and had been under medical treat- 
 ment for months just previous to making her appear- 
 ance here, without the least apparent relief. When she 
 arrived at the house in the gorge her eyes were care- 
 fully protected from the strong light by a visor and 
 bandage and she was unable to see any object distinctly. 
 She was an incessant visitor at the church, and less 
 than one week after her arrival, served a dinner for 
 two of us in the little log farm-house in the valley, 
 flitting to and from the out-kitchen, in the hot sun, 
 without hat, visor or bandage, and she read the fine 
 print of a newspaper, when handed to her, readily. 
 
 Perhaps the most potent error that could be 
 
72 MIRACLE HILL. 
 
 indulged in by those in doubt of the efficacy of this 
 place, would be to assume that there was no foundation 
 of facts to rest these marvelous cures upon. An emi- 
 nent physician of New York says : " Every competent 
 physician, who has had to deal with mental troubles, 
 knows perfectly well that the influence of the mind 
 upon the body is something to be counted upon as of the 
 utmost value as a therapeutical adjuvant, and scores of 
 men owe their eminence in the profession to their faculty 
 of influencing the minds of their patients for good." 
 
 Adversity is the test of man's fortitude, yet no 
 man, however self-willed, but becomes pliant under the 
 weight of a deep affliction. True, a woman, naturally 
 weak, may be strong under the pressure of vicissitude. 
 She lives upon inspirational power — the daughters of 
 Hope, Sympathy and compassion will sustain her by 
 the influence that mind exerts over body. 
 
 Being creatures of circumstances we are susceptible 
 to invisible influences that change the tenor of our 
 existence. A trifling circumstance — like the bars of a 
 switch — may send our train a thousand miles in an 
 opposite direction. 
 
 In scanning the horizon of facts for a basis to rest 
 these cures upon, so many and varied theories arise 
 that it is hard to solve the problem, and meet the 
 criticism of public opinion. 
 
 One beauty of the Catholic religion is its faith in the 
 
SOME OF THE CURES. 73 
 
 power of prayer ; and this church is based upon that 
 belief. To those who lack that faith, the theory of 
 mind cure offers the only solution of the question to be 
 solved. That the mind exercises a strange influence over 
 the body, for good or evil, no one can doubt ; and these 
 miracles may be largely attributable to the restoration 
 of lost powers by complete quiet, and diversion of the 
 mind from all perplexing annoyances existing elsewhere. 
 The sojourner here is lost to all outside influences. 
 He is encircled by the weird beliefs that cluster around 
 the entire neighborhood, and lulled to rest by the 
 uninterrupted harmony that pervades it. He meets 
 with sympathy and is buoyed by hope. No doubts or 
 dissentions, as to the infallibility of the place, mar the 
 quiet of his stay. All these, combined with wholesome 
 food, pure air, and incomparably beautiful surround- 
 ings, must and will accomplish marvelous results. 
 
ZiUTOWlB 
 
 S \GN OF Tf, e 
 
 [BLUE FLAG 
 
 CUM/ 
 
 384 EAST WATER ST 
 
 AlLWAUKEE.WlS.