OCCASIONAL PAPERS o i/j' ON THE HISTORY OF i.a BOSTON COLLEGE X o: Cd < GASSON’S ROTUNDA: GALLERY OF ART, HISTORY, AND RELIGION Rev. Charles F. Donovan, S.J. University Historian April 1992 For a campus that has been cited as one of the most beautiful in America, ‘ Boston College has little outdoor statuary. We have no signature figure in marble or bronze, like John Harvard in Harvard Yard, or Nathan Hale, Yale’s Revolutionary war hero, or Archbishop John Carroll on the Georgetown campus. Our one freestanding outdoor statue is the comely figure of Our Blessed Mother on the College Road side of Bapst lawn. Early campus planners must have expected more sculpture, because Maginnis and Walsh’s Bapst Library provided five exterior niches for statues, only one of which has been filled. The class of 1942 commissioned sculptor Robert Amendola of Natick to create the statue of Our Lady that stands in a niche near the entrance to Burns Library. Perhaps the prescient second founder of the university. Father Thomas Gasson, foresaw the tardiness of his successors in adding sculpture to the site he named University Heights, because he turned the soaring rotunda of the first Chestnut Hill building into a gallery of art that includes five statues as well as four large paintings, with inspiring inscriptions over the doors and painted decorations that bring contrasting warmth and life to the rotunda’s Gothic stonework. The dominant feature of the rotunda is, of course, the gigantic marble group representing St. Michael triumphing over Satan, based on the New Testament Book of Revelation, 12:7. The sculpture, almost as old as Boston College, was commissioned in 1865 by a wealthy Boston merchant, Gard- ner Brewer, whose stately mansion stood at 29 Beacon Street. The Brewers were eclectic collectors of art from around the world. Their home was filled with American pottery, European decorative art, Etruscan gems, Japanese screens, oriental jade, and rare jewelry from France and India. This collection was bequeathed to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, but nothing in it was on the massive scale of the representation of St. Michael This Occasional Paper is dedicated to our colleague, Heinz Bluhm, of the Germanic Studies Department, who suggested a paper on the rotunda of Gasson Hall. [ 1 ] [ 2 ] overcoming Satan that Brewer envisioned as a dominating piece of art for his home. He contacted a distinguished sculptor, Scipione Tadolini, in Rome and asked him to convert his vision into stone. Tadolini obtained a single block of the finest Carrara marble and, with his assistants, spent nearly four years completing the statue and its pedestal. Mr. Brewer became im- patient after three years, but the conscientious artist insisted that his love and respect for his work would not allow him to settle for anything but perfection. In February 1869 the group was completed and drew many admiring visitors to Tadolini’s studio, including the Holy Father himself. Pope Pius IX. In March the Vatican newspaper Osservatore Romano published a lengthy appreciation of the sculptured group. A few excerpts give a pro- fessional contemporary reaction to the sculpture: The group is elevated upon a marble pedestal embellished with pieces of sculpture and ornamental work, the entire height being eleven feet, three inches. . . . The vanquished Satan lies with his breast on the ground, from which through various crevices fierce flames are issu- ing. With his horrible left fist closed tightly, he presses the earth with his right hand as if trying to raise himself, disdaining to continue in his humiliating posture and looking at the heavenly warrior with a face distorted by infernal hatred. . . . We think it may be said that the spirit of the pit could not be better expressed than in this work of Tadolini. The Angel standing over Lucifer is refulgent with divine beauty. With uplifted right hand he grasps the avenging sword; in his left hand he holds the thunderbolts of heaven committed to him by the Almighty. He does not rest upon his feet, for the fluttering mantle that extends downwards from his left arm to the back of Satan serves him for solid support, the pleasing illusion being thereby produced that he is sustained by his huge wings. The pedestal contains three bas-reliefs of the Archangel Michael. One, extrapolated from the Old Testament book of Daniel (chapter 10), depicts Michael assuring Daniel on the bank of the Tigris that his prayers have been answered. A second represents Michael driving away the demon who had hidden the body of Moses. This struggle is mentioned in the first chapter of the Epistle of St. Jude. The third bas-relief portrays the body of Moses about to be carried by angels to heaven on the command of Michael. This theme reflects the belief of some Jews as expressed in The Assumption of Moses, a Pharisaic apocryphal work of the first century A.D. In commissioning a sculptured group of Michael conquering Satan, Gard- ner Brewer was extending a long line of similar representations in art. The Princeton Index of Christian Art has over 900 index cards for artistic [ 3 ] representations of the Michael-Lucifer struggle prior to the year 1400, in painting, sculpture, relief, and illuminations. Tadolini encased his massive work and accompanied it across the Atlan- tic to Boston, where it was installed in a great hall in Brewer’s Beacon Street home. The patron had only five years to enjoy and show his mighty group of statuary: He died in 1874. In 1901 the St. Michael group was purchased by the art dealers Julius and Henry Koopman, whose establishment was across the way at 18 Beacon Street. As Tadolini ’s masterpiece stood available for sale on Beacon Hill, in the South End the Jesuits had begun to plan to move Boston College to a new location. By 1907 the Chestnut Hill Campus was purchased. By 1908 the first building, with its great tower and lofty rotunda was planned. By 1909 the building was under construction and a Jesuit who had often stopped at Koopman’s gallery to admire the St. Michael statue asked Father Gasson if he could raise money to purchase the statue for the rotunda. Permission was granted and the class of 1910 voted to raise the necessary funds. However an anonymous donor purchased the statue for the College in the name of Father Charles Lane, a faculty member. St. Michael and Lucifer had to wait four years before finding their present home in the rotunda of Gasson Hall in 1913. It may be noted that Ashton Rollins Willard’s History of Modern Italian Art, published in London in 1898, mentioned our statue. In one chapter, “Recent Sculptors,’’ he had a footnote on “the present group of Roman sculptors.’’ After mentioning the father of our sculptor, Adamo Tadolini, he adds: “One of the principal works of his son Scipione— a marble group representing St. Michael triumphing over Satan— is now in the Gardner Brewer house at Boston.’’ The Journey from Beacon Hill to Chestnut Hill proved more hazardous for Tadolini ’s work than that from Rome to Boston. The wings of Michael were broken, as well as his sword and the thunderbolts held in the left hand. Plaster wings and thunderbolts were substituted. Not until 1925 were mar- ble wings restored to the statue, and the other defects were remedied later. Surrounding the massive Tadolini sculpture are four smaller marble statues representing four Jesuit saints: Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Society of Jesus, and three saints who died in or barely beyond their teens, name- ly, Stanislaus Kostka, John Berchmans, and Aloysius Gonzaga. In the 19th century Aloysius was named the patron saint of youth. All three young Jesuits were about the age of American college students when they attained a high degree of sanctity. It was no doubt for these reasons that the College proposed them as religious models for our students. The statue of Ignatius, at the west end of the rotunda outside the assembly hall, represents him in cassock, his left hand clasping a crucifix to his breast, a scroll in his right hand, with the rosary of Mary suspended from his cinc- [ 4 ] ture. Apart from his thousands of letters, Ignatius’ principal written works were his Spiritual Exercises, a handbook for guiding souls from indifference or tepidity toward God to a commitment to seek to know God’s will and fulfill it perfectly; and the Constitutions he composed for the government of the Society of Jesus. Both documents have worldwide influence even in our day. The scroll probably represents the Spiritual Exercises, since they are directed to people in every state of life, not just to Jesuits. St. Ignatius of Loyola [5] St. Ignatius needs little introduction to Boston College readers. Born in the Basque section of what is today northeast Spain, he came from a family of some means and standing and spent his youthful years as a courtier and soldier. At age 30 he underwent a dramatic conversion, almost as dramatic as Paul’s on the road to Damascus. After a prolonged period of solitary prayer and asceticism, during which he outlined his Spiritual Exercises, he was told that if he intended to urge others to reformation of life, he needed theological training. This meant he had to learn Latin, the language of theological discourse. So at age 33 he took his place with beginners learn- ing Latin declensions and conjugations at several Spanish universities— Barcelona, Alcall Salamanca. But it was at the queen of European academic centers, the University of Paris, where he was awarded the M.A. degree in 1535, that Ignatius’ life took its final direction and the Society of Jesus was, in a way, incubated. Ignatius drew to himself a group of younger men who came to share his own commitment to God and who in 1540 became the first members, with Ignatius, of the Company of Jesus, approved as a religious body by Pope Paul III. In 1540 St. Ignatius had only 16 years of life remaining. In those few years his young religious order grew from 10 to 1000 members. Before his death he had established 33 schools across Europe. His followers had already carried the Gospel message to Africa, Latin America, and the Far East. Ignatius was beatified in 1609 and canonized in 1622 along with his fellow student at Paris, Francis Xavier, the missionary to India and other Far Eastern countries. The statue of St. Aloysius, at the east end of the rotunda outside the assembly hall, represents the young Jesuit in cassock and surplice, a vest- ment worn by assistants at liturgical functions. Rosary beads are wound around his left hand, while both hands clasp a book which could be a missal (Mass book) or bible. His face is slender, somewhat frail, reflecting his noble lineage. Aloysius Gonzaga (1568-1591) was born in the castle of Castiglione. In his teens his father brought him to Spain, where he became a page to the son of Philip II and later attended the University of Alcala- Aloysius entered the Society of Jesus in Rome in 1585. He had completed his noviceship and was well advanced in theological studies when in 1591 a pestilence broke out. Attending the sick in hospital, he contracted the disease and died at age 23. Young Gonzaga had the good fortune to be associated with two men who were also declared saints: He received his first Communion in Brescia from St. Charles Borromeo and his Jesuit confessor in Rome was St. Robert Bellarmine. Aloysius was raised to the ranks of the blessed in 1621, only 30 years after his death. A little more than a century later he was declared a saint, in 1726. The statue outside the Honors Program room at the east end of the rotun- da represents St. John Berchmans in his Jesuit cassock covered by a cloak, his hands entwining rosary beads and holding St. Ignatius’ rules for the Society of Jesus. John Berchmans (1599-1631) lived an unspectacular life. Born in the Netherlands, he attended the Jesuit College at Mecklin. After completing the course in rhetoric (which would be the equivalent of sophomore year St. Aloysius Gonzaga 17 ] St. John Berchmans in college today,) he entered the Society of Jesus and was pursuing philosophical studies at the Roman College when he died at age 22. John’s holiness in his too brief sojourn in the Society of Jesus consisted in his unforced and unpretentious conformity to every rule. He slept with the rule book under his pillow as other youths might sleep with a likeness of their loved ones nearby. It is of note, in the context of our rotunda statues, that [ 8 ] St. Stanislaus Kostka on his deathbed Berchmans had read to him the life of the then Blessed Aloysius Gonzaga, who had died 40 years earlier. John Berchmans was declared blessed in 1865 and was canonized 23 years later. The statue to the right of the entrance to the Honors Program room represents St. Stanislaus Kostka, dressed in cassock and surplice, holding the Infant Jesus. Born in Poland in 1550 (be it noted: six years before the 19 ] death of St. Ignatius), Stanislaus Kostka was sent as a teenager by his parents to Vienna, where the Jesuits had established one of their classical schools. After a few years with the Jesuits, Stanislaus asked to become one of them, but the Austrian provincial refused him, fearing family opposition. Thereupon young Kostka decided to take his case to the superior general of the Jesuits in Rome, traveling the many hundreds of miles in the old fashioned way— on foot. The general at the time, St. Francis Borgia, ac- cepted Stanislaus as a Jesuit novice. His life in the Society of Jesus was brief— ten months— for he died in 1568. Stanislaus had extraordinary devotion to the Blessed Mother, and it is said that to reward him she placed the Infant Jesus in his arms. This is represented in our statue. Stanislaus Kostka was beatified in 1605 and canonized in 1726. He is the patron saint of novices seeking membership in religious orders. Over the four arched exits from the rotunda— those leading to the east and west corridors of the building and those giving access to the assembly hall and the Honors Program room— are Latin phrases. Each phrase is related to one of the statues. Over the doorway to the assembly hall are the words Quis ut Deus? The expression has meaning in itself immediately on reading it: “Who is like unto (or compares to) God?“ But in fact the archangel Michael’s name in Hebrew means just that. In art St. Michael, as a warrior, is sometimes depicted carrying a shield, and often the shield is emblazoned with the words Quis ut Deus?, the Latin translation of his name in Hebrew. Over the rotunda exit heading toward College Road are the words Ad Majoreni Dei Gloriam, which, of course, is the motto St. Ignatius gave to the Society of Jesus. The Ignatian motto looks down upon its author’s statue beside that exit. Over the doorway to the Honors Program room are the words Mater Dei Est Mater Mea. These words, “The Mother of God is My Mother,’’ ex- pressed the ardent devotion of St. Stanislaus Kostka for the Blessed Virgin Mary, and they stand just above his statue, at the right of the Honors Pro- gram room entrance. In the archway over the rotunda exit toward O’Neill Library is the in- scription Quid Hoc ad Aeternitatem? This phrase has for centuries been a familiar challenge of Jesuit spiritual direction. In some contexts it is a challenge of perspective: How can this limited human event, act, crisis, failure, success compare with eternity? But more often it is a challenge to weigh the bearing of a given human decision or act or situation upon eter- nal consequences. How does this promote or impede progress towards eter- nal union with God? The question is associated with St. Aloysius, whose statue is below it, at the right of the entrance to the assembly hall. A prayer- bcx)k used by most American Jesuits earlier in this century states, in a medita- [10] Ill] tion on Gonzaga: “God was ever uppermost in his thoughts; quid hoc ad aeternitateni was his one standard of action.’’ James E. Tobin of the class of 1925 wrote a series of articles for The Heights which were later printed in a 31 -page pamphlet titled “Art in Boston College’’.^ In Tobin’s time there were three buildings to describe: the pre- sent Gasson, Devlin, and St. Mary’s halls. His major emphasis was on Gasson and, as he conducted his readers from the assembly hall into the rotunda to view what he called “the rotundic panorama,’’ he pointed to the four paintings high above the statues of the Jesuit saints and remarked: “Above each of the marble creations is a wonderful example of the work of Brother Francis Schroen, S.J., placed in a commanding position in the clerestory. Each of the four paintings, beneath the ceiling of metallic blue, has a binding thread and shows the work of the Jesuits in different fields under the inspiration of the Trinity.’’ Before this paper describes the Schroen paintings, it is appropriate to devote a few paragraphs to the life of this talented Jesuit brother whose art work is such a significant feature of Gasson Hall. Francis Schroen was born in Bavaria in 1857. In his infancy his family moved to the United States and settled in Baltimore. He had a leaning toward art from childhood, and when he left school he was employed as a decorator and painter of man- sions and public buildings. Schroen’s obituary published in the Woodstock Letters^ has some details of his personal life that are given here because of their relation to his work in Gasson rotunda. Coming from a family of strong Catholic faith, Schroen attended parochial school, but some time after his marriage at age 21, influenced by the reading of infidel (the obituarist’s word) writers, he ceased the practice of his religion. His wife died when he was 35 and things went worse for him. He became obsessed with spiritism and the Ouija board and had ever deeper contact with the spirits beyond until the messages he received became so obscene and blasphemous that Schroen demanded in God’s name to know the identity of the being moving his hand. With violent trembling his hand wrote the word B-e-e-l-z-e-b-u-b. There is no evidence that Schroen had contact with evil spirits or was possessed by the devil. But he believed he was, and he went to a priest and asked to be exorcised. The priest told him to return in a day or two, but Schroen was convinced that he was cured through Our Lady’s interces- sion and did not return to the priest. Whether Schroen’s experiences with spirits were real or imagined, it is clear that they were exceedingly real for him. He held to his story to his death, as is clear from his obituary. Therefore one can imagine the feelings of awe and self-involvement Brother Schroen must have felt in 1913 as he was creating his great paintings on the upper walls of the rotunda and looked down from his scaffolding to see the statue of St. Michael crushing Lucifer. For Schroen the vanquished [ 12 ] [131 was Beelzebub and the massive statuary must have represented the outcome of a battle that had taken place in his own life. Schroen entered the Society of Jesus in 1898 at age 41 . Schroen’s paint- ings and decorative art are found in several Jesuit churches and colleges— Georgetown, Fordham, St. Joseph’s (in Philadelphia), the Gesu church (also in Philadelphia), the cathedral of Kingston, Jamaica, and the church of the Holy Name in New Orleans. At Boston College, in addition to the four paintings in the rotunda. Brother Schroen painted the mural over the stage in the assembly room, “The Church, the Educator of Mankind,” and he did all the decorations of the Fulton Debating room on the third floor of Gasson Hall, including representations of the six authors whose words are inscribed on the sloped walls and the likeness of Father Robert Fulton, founder of debating at Boston College. In the rotunda, the painting over the statue of St. Ignatius represents Ig- natius during his early student days, with book in hand, reciting his Latin lesson. The students watching him appear in the painting somewhat older than the schoolboys who were Loyola’s classmates. The Lord is pictured above the class, looking approvingly at the saint. In the space over the paint- ing is the word EDUCATIO and below it are represented the lamp of educa- tion and the book of learning, on either side of the phrase, “St. Ignatius puerorum aemulus litteris operam navat,” which may be rendered, “Com- peting with schoolboys, St. Ignatius diligently pursues classical studies.” The painting over the statue of St. Aloysius, on the assembly hall side of the rotunda, represents Father Pierre Biard offering the first Mass to be said in New England. The priest elevates the sacred host before a large wooden cross. Around him kneel a few colonists, their implements of civilization, plough and anvil, close by. In the background Indian villagers look on with wonder at a rite they had never seen before. The year was 1613; the place was Mount Desert Island, Maine. Pierre Biard (1567-1622) was born in Grenoble, France. He entered the Society of Jesus and was serving as professor of theology and Hebrew at Lyons when he was put in charge of a Jesuit mission to Acadia. The historian Francis Parkman called Biard’s ship, the Jonas, “the Mayflower of the Jesuits.” Biard’s colony in Maine was short-lived; it was attacked and destroyed by an English ship from Virginia. Biard was taken prisoner for nine months and, through the maritime misadventures of his captors, was set ashore in Wales. British authorities returned him to France. Above this painting is the word RELIGIO and below it is the inscription, “Divina litant hostia in his longinquis oris Christifideles” (Christians of- fer Mass on these far off shores.) On one side of the inscription are chalice and host, and on the other a stole and cruet. Across the rotunda, on the wall to the left of the entrance to the Honors Program room, the painting represents Father Jacques Marquette as the first [ 14 ] St. Ignatius Among Schoolboys European to set eyes on the upper Mississippi River. Marquette stands in the prow of a canoe paddled by native Americans. Joliet, with European companions, is in the second canoe. Over the painting is the word FIDES, which means faith. Whatever the motives of Joliet and the French govern- ment may have been, the priest’s aim in his perilous journey was the spread of the Christian faith. Below the painting are emblems of the missionary [ 15 ] The First Mass Offered in New England and explorer, a world surmounted by a cross and a boat with crossed oars. Between the two is the Latin expression, “Marquette recludit ignotos fluminis Mississippi fontes” (Marquette reveals the unknown waters of the Mississippi River). Jacques Marquette (1636-1675) was born in Laon, France. He entered the Society of Jesus and at age 30 was sent as a missionary to the Indians [ 16 ] Marquette Entering The Mississippi River of Canada. He mastered the Huron language and was fluent in six Indian dialects. He was accepted in many native settlements and worked his way west to the southern part of Lake Superior. There Illinois Indians spoke of a great river. Marquette determined to see it. He had special devotion to Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception and promised that if he reached the great river he would name it Conception. Authorities in Quebec sent Joliet [ 17 ] to join the expedition. They crossed Wisconsin by river and portage, and the Wisconsin River brought them to the Mississippi. They continued down the Mississippi as far as the mouth of the Arkansas River, only a few hun- dred miles from the present city of New Orleans. Because the city was then controlled by Spain, the expedition turned back. The diary that Marquette kept during this momentous and daring journey is a treasure for historians of the exploration and opening of the American continent. Marquette’s name for the great river was not adopted, but writing two centuries later Francis Parkman remarked that Marquette would have rejoiced when in 1854 the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of Mary was declared a dogma of the church.^ The fourth painting, over the statue of St. Stanislaus, represents one of the leading scientists in Jesuit history, Athanasius Kircher (1601-1680). Under the word SCIENTIA God the Father extends a guiding hand towards Kircher, who is surrounded by scientific instruments and two piles of books. These no doubt represent the 44 folio volumes on scientific subjects he wrote during his long scholarly career. The inscription beneath the painting is, “Kircher arcana naturae pandit” (Kircher discloses nature’s secrets). Athanasius Kircher was born near Fulda, in Germany. He attended the Jesuit school in Fulda, at the same time taking lessons in Hebrew from a local rabbi. He entered the Society of Jesus in 1618. Fascinated by the rela- tions between languages, he mastered many of them, including Chaldean, Syrian, Egyptian, Coptic, Armenian, and Arabic. His scientific interests were truly manifold. Some of them are the study of earthquakes and volcanoes, magnetism, hieroglyphics, medicine, music, astronomy, ar- chaeology, and comparative religion. He invented the magic lantern and tried to develop a universal language. He founded a research museum in Rome that contained a large number of astronomical instruments, hydraulic organs, obelisk models, preserved animals, and ancient coins, as well as ethnographic materials collected by Jesuit missionaries in the New World and China. A scholar at Colgate University calls Father Kircher the last of the polymaths.^ It should be noted that Burns Library has thirteen of Kircher’s books, all printed in the 17th century. One can speculate on the reasons Father Gasson or his advisors had in choosing the themes for the four paintings. Two seem obvious: St. Ignatius and Father Kircher. Although Ignatius is represented in the statuary, Ig- natius as a delayed vocation student is a natural inspiration for college-age youth. As for Kircher, not only is he perhaps the most prominent scientist in Jesuit history, but Father Gasson may have been making a statement by featuring science. In 1907, shortly after he was named president. Father Gasson addressed the alumni and told them he needed a large amount of money to establish a new campus for the College which would have im- proved science facilities. So science was a priority with Father Gasson. [ 18 ] Surely Fathers Marquette and Biard had dramatic roles in Jesuit history, but there are so many more directly academic models who could have been chosen— for example, St. Edmund Campion, Oxford man, or St. Robert Southwell, poet, both martyrs under Elizabeth I of England; and St. Robert Bellarmine or St. Peter Canisius, both learned theologians and doctors of the church. The reason for the choice of Marquette and Biard seems in a Athanasius Kircher, S.J., Scientist 119J sense to have been patriotism. Both had significant roles in the develop- ment of America. Boston school children have always been steeped in the story of the Mayflower and the Pilgrims. It is not insignificant that Parkman called Father Biard’s ship “the Jesuits’ Mayflower. ’’ Schroen’s painting depicts a scene of Jesuits in Maine seven years before the Protestant English were at Plymouth Rock. The heroic movement of Americans westward to Colorado, California, and Oregon was antedated and to some extent promoted by Marquette’s discovery and exploration of the Mississippi: So two of the rotunda’s paint- ings show Jesuits and the Catholic church as pioneers in the development of America. Gasson’s rotunda is, indeed, a gallery of art, history, and religion. All by itself it proclaims what some people take to be the message of the words that were added to the Boston College seal after Father Gasson’s day: Religio et Bonis Artibus. NOTES 1. In the 1950s the author posted a newsclipping on the bulletin board of St. Mary’s Hall. It quoted a journalist in Minneapolis whose hobby was visiting college campuses around the country. He declared the most beautiful campus in the United States to be that of the University of Washington on Puget Sound. He awarded second place to Boston College. 2. Tobin’s excellent articles appeared in ten issues of The Heights, January-March, 1924. Another well-researched article by a student, to which this paper is indebted, is “A Great Art Gift to Boston College’’ by Joseph E. Kelly of the class of 1911. It appeared in The Stylus in April 1909. 3. Woodstock Letters, 54 (1924) :81 4. Lyon Gardiner Tyler, ed. Narratives of Early Virginia, 1606-1625 (Charles Scribners, 1909), contains a 1614 letter from Father Biard to Father General Claude Aquaviva describing the British attack on the Mount Desert settlement, his capture, and eventual release after perils at sea. 5. Francis Parkman, LaSalle and the Discovery of the Great West (Boston: Little, Brown, 1897), I, p. 59. 6. Joscelyn Godwin, Athanasius Kircher: A Renaissance Man and the Quest for Lost Knowledge (London: Thames and Hudson, 1979), p. 5. Photographs by Gary Gilbert Boston College Office of Communications [ 20 ] archives