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Cathedral of Saint Paul at 100: Still a work in progress
The magnificent church on the hill above downtown Saint Paul seems like the most solid of images yet it began as a 19th century dream, a dream one man had for the Twin Cities. "A world-class Cathedral," Rector Reverend Joseph Johnson explains, "something that sets this apart from the original little 'Pig's Eye' settlement with it's log cabin chapel." The grand Archdiocese of Saint Paul and Minneapolis had the humblest of beginnings. Its 1841 genesis was a rough 18-by-45 foot, log chapel. It stood on the Mississippi River bluff at the trading post known as "Pig's Eye," named after an early resident. The little log chapel was dedicated to Saint Paul. At the urging of the chapel's priest, Lucien Galtier, the chapel gave its name to the surrounding frontier settlement. With the 1851 arrival of Bishop Joseph Cretin, the territory became a diocese. The humble log chapel was then a Cathedral and instantly inadequate. In just months, Cretin erected and occupied Saint Paul's second Cathedral at Sixth and Wabasha Streets. It was a three-story brick building with the church on the second floor and Cretin's living quarters above that. It was bigger, but hardly grand. It would last less than a decade. By the time of Minnesota's statehood in 1858, a third seat for the young and rapidly expanding diocese had been constructed. The original plans called for decorative buttresses and a 250-foot steeple. Financial crises forced the downsizing of the church and the elimination of "frills." The stone structure was solid, but uninspiring. Thirty years later, the diocese had grown to be an Archdiocese with its first Archbishop. Archbishop John Ireland was that man with a dream, a dream that required a grander Cathedral. Cathedral's Website with list of many anniversary celebration activities. "He also wanted to make a statement about Saint Paul and Minnesota in general," Fr. Johnson hastened to add, "that we were coming of age and that we are now of an ability to create something that is truly monumental." Ireland wanted a "mega-church," to be constructed in the Midway section between the cities of Saint Paul and Minneapolis. He thought the two towns could be combined into one city, which he called "Paulopolis". "He had some interesting ideas," Johnson chuckles. When asked if the numerous Lutherans in the area might have preferred "Lutherville" as their new address, Johnson grins, "Well, Lutherans are good friends. They like Saint Paul, too!" Unifying the cities was not, as one might expect, the most popular of pioneer ideas. So, by the dawn of the 20th century, Ireland split his mega-church dream down the middle. He would build two Cathedrals, one in each city. Despite his name, Ireland loved all things French. In the Beaux-Arts grandeur of the 1904 Saint Louis World's Fair, he found the "look" and the French architect he was seeking. Emmanuel Louis Masqueray was hired to design both cathedrals. That same year, the Norman Kittson mansion, perched atop Saint Anthony Hill was purchased as the site for Saint Paul's fourth cathedral. Masqueray modeled his design on churches in Europe including the famous Sacre Coeur basilica in Paris. That old wooden chapel had been put up for $65. The fourth Cathedral carried a then staggering price tag of $1,000,000. Cathedral Archivist Thomas Flynn says the cash flowed from rich and poor. "We have a book in the Founder's Chapel that inscribes everyone's donation, whether it was 50 cents or $500 and those donations came not just from Catholics, but from non-Catholics." The cost to duplicate it today? "Oh, a billion dollars...or more." On June 2, 1907, the cornerstone was placed after a parade of 30,000 marchers and twice as many spectators. No fewer than 20 marching bands joined the march from downtown Saint Paul up the hill to the site. One year later, in 1908, the cornerstone of Ireland and Masqueray's second, slightly smaller Cathedral was set in Minneapolis. At first it was called the "Pro-Cathedral", but the Vatican ordered a name change. We know it today as the Basilica of Saint Mary on Hennepin Avenue. It took eight years from the laying of the cornerstone in Saint Paul until the first service. The work was labor intensive and painstaking.
"He assessed all the parishes a certain amount of money," Archivist Flynn explains, "and then it was up to the pastors to go to their parishioners and to try to raise the money." If the individuals in a particular parish did not, or could not, volunteer their allotment then the parish itself was assessed the difference. The money was raised. The congregation at that first Mass on Palm Sunday, March 28, 1915, sat between walls of whitewashed brick. The marble and limestone coverings would come later, as would the elaborately decorated arches and stained glass that define a great Cathedral. Legend has it that uncured concrete sagged from the weight of eager first day worshippers, although Archivist Flynn doubts the veracity of that thought. A visible and unrepaired dip in a section of pews is the supposed evidence. The Cathedral in those early days must have seemed quite barren inside without the decorations and elaborate altar canopy to come. The Baldachin or canopy, whose bronze angels bear the faces of Railroad Baron and Benefactor James J. Hill's grandchildren, was designed by Whitney Warren, the architect of New York's Grand Central Station. The Baldachin is Flynn's favorite feature in the Cathedral. "It's just such a massive, wonderful piece of art that it just strikes my imagination." The nearby State Capitol dome was two years old when the Cathedral cornerstone was set. Another legend has it that Ireland insisted that the cross atop his church be taller than the Capitol's highest point. It was supposedly something about religion being held higher than politics. Regardless, two future popes and America's only Catholic president have prayed beneath Masqueray's dome. Undoubtedly, each, like every visitor before and after, was struck by some feature of the edifice. Cathedral Rector Fr. Johnson is no exception. "In the early morning, when the dawn is just coming in, the eastern Rose window, it just begins to take on light. It's just a spectacular thing." Most of the Cathedral's epic stained glass windows are the work of noted artist Charles Connick. They are grand and conspicuous parts of the church, but there are tiny touches as well. A stone in the chapel of Saint Theresa on the side of the main altar was a gift to Francophile Ireland. He insisted it be placed in the Cathedral. The stone is from the French castle where Joan of Arc was held prisoner before she was burned at the stake. Much has been added that neither Ireland nor Masqueray lived to see.
The sacristy is also the repository for Archbishop John Ireland's crosier or shepherd's staff and his processional cross. The five new bells in the South Tower were added in 1986. Naturally, they were forged in France. The great frescos on the back walls of the church were completed in 1996. By Minnesota artist Mark Balma, one depicts the arrival of Cretin in Saint Paul. The other shows Ireland leading his congregation into the new Cathedral. Father Johnson notes that a century later, the Cathedral is still a work in progress. "There's still a lot of interior restoration work from the leaky roof that made us do the $30 million replacement of the dome. And then there are things, that like the cornerstone are about to turn a hundred.The boiler system's about to turn 100, too." Many things have changed since the Cathedral's creation. John Ireland's dream is a richer reality because of it.
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