Family History Records – Person Page 123

The Snowshoe Priest
By Walter Thomas Camier

In June 29, 1797, Frederic Baraga, the fourth of five children, was born in Malavas in the Austrian dukedom of Carniola. His parents had him baptized as Irenaeus Frederic that very day in the parish church of Dobernice. From his earliest days, Frederic’s parents were concerned not simply with his academic education but with his spiritual and moral formation. Warning her son of the need to fight temptation, his godly mother admonished him, “Be strong, trust in the Lord, and in the end you will know victory.” Even while young, Frederic’s faith was sorely tested. He saw the family estate impoverished because of the Napoleonic wars in the region and, worse, his mother died in 1808, and his father in 1812. He often recalled his mother’s wise counsel: “Look to your Heavenly Father for the graces necessary to live a good life.”

For the next four years, Frederic attended a school in Ljubljana, where he lived in the home of Dr. George Dolinar, a lay professor at the diocesan seminary. He continued his education, studying law at the University of Vienna. It was in Vienna that Frederic met the Austrian priest Fr. Clement Maria Hofbauer, who had been inspired by the writings of Saint Alfonso de Liguori, the founder of the Redemptorists. Frederic’s friendship with Father Hofbauer awakened his vocation to the priesthood, and he devoted himself more intensely to his prayers and the sacraments, kindling the flame now burning in his soul — ardent desire to serve God as a priest.

During the summers, Frederic walked throughout the Vienna countryside and neighboring countries. These walking tours helped build the stamina he would find indispensable in his later missionary life. Frederic graduated from law school in 1821 and was ordained a priest by the bishop of Ljubljana on September 21, 1823. He was assigned to Saint Martin’s parish near Krainberg.

Counteracting the abominable heresy of Jansenism, which held a debased view of man and denigrated the spiritual benefits conferred by the sacraments, Father Baraga encouraged frequent confessions and wrote devotional works to inspire the laity to live lives of prayer and holiness. As for himself, he embraced the cross through the practice of penance, poverty, and service to the poor.

After Father Baraga created a Sodality of the Sacred Heart even though such associations were forbidden at the time by the emperor, his bishop banished him to a neglected parish in Metlika in Lower Carniola as the last among three assistant priests. Father Baraga remained steadfast in his resolve to serve the forgotten faithful, but his pastor and brother curates opposed him at every step.

Arbre Croche


Frederic Baraga's childhood home
While praying for divine guidance, Father Baraga learned of the need for missionary priests in America. Bishop Edward Fenwick of Cincinnati had sent an emissary to convince the Austrian Emperor, Francis I, to support a missionary society to help spread the Gospel in the United States. The emperor agreed and the new society was named the Leopoldine Foundation after his late daughter, Leopoldina, who had been Empress of Brazil. The American emissary granted Father Baraga’s request to work in the Indian missions, and the bishop approved his transfer. On October 29, 1830, he left his homeland to spend the remainder of his life as a missionary among American Indians.

Arriving in New York on December 31, 1830, Father Baraga journeyed to Cincinnati, which he reached on January 18, 1831. There he served the German Catholics residing in that area while beginning his studies of the Ottawa language under the instruction of the son of an Ottawa chief, who was attending the Cincinnati seminary.

On May 28, 1831, Father Baraga arrived in his first Indian mission, Arbre Croche, (near present-day Harbor Springs, Michigan), where the faithful, who had been converted by the Jesuit missionary Fr. Peter Dejean, welcomed Bishop Fenwick and their new pastor with great affection. During his four-day stay, the bishop confirmed thirty Ottawas. On his departure, Bishop Fenwick confided to Father Baraga, “I would gladly exchange my residence in Cincinnati for a small hut and the happy lot of a missionary among these good Indians.” In later years, Father Baraga would echo these words.

The “happy lot” of the missionary was not an easy one. A rough log cabin with a birch roof served as Father Baraga’s home. He had just one coat to protect himself against the frigid winter winds, during which he often had to warm the wine and water before offering his morning Mass.


One of the first articles Fr. Baraga and the other missionaries acquired was a bell he used to call his congregation to prayer. In this painting Bishop Baraga has just rung the bell and is welcoming a family of Indians.
Father Baraga was devoted to serving the souls entrusted to his care. In 1831 alone, he baptized eighty-seven Ottawa adults and forty-four children. During the two years and four months he would serve in Arbre Croche, he would baptize 547 Ottawas. He strove to better the condition of these poor souls not only spiritually but physically as well. The woodland Indians had lived a nomadic life, hunting, fishing, and gathering sap and berries. Feast and famine alternated. Under his direction, the converts at Arbre Croche began turning to agriculture and stored their harvest to last the long winter. Seeing that these Indians were adept in mechanical skills, he also established blacksmithing, carpentry, and book-binding shops for them.

Missionary journeys

Neither snow, wind, nor rain could stop this intrepid missionary from his apostolic labors, as he set out to evangelize the neighboring Indian tribes. He first focused his attention across Lake Michigan to Beaver Island, but the Indians there were hostile to the faith, so he turned to Indian Lake on Lake Michigan’s north shore where the Indians were more receptive. All but one were baptized, and a church dedicated to the Blessed Virgin was built. Father Baraga then journeyed to Detroit to proofread Animie-Misinaigan, his prayer book in the Ottawa language, returning to Arbre Croche with 2,000 bound copies.

Father Baraga often traveled many miles alone in the desolate wilderness and, finding nowhere to stay, he would lay down in the snow, pull his coat over himself, and fall asleep. More than once, he awoke to brush several inches of snow off himself before continuing his journey. Despite such hardships, he ate very little — perhaps, a small piece of bread with some water. His energy came not from food, but from his love of God and of the souls He entrusted to his care.

In the spring of 1832, Father Baraga and his Indian companions set out for Little Detroit Island on Green Bay, 30 miles across Lake Michigan. The Indians would never have embarked on such a long journey in a small canoe, save for their trust in the priest’s faith and prayers. During their voyage a storm arose, tossing the canoe in its wake. As the Indians looked to the missionary, he encouraged them to confide in God. The storm passed and they reached Detroit Island, where Father Baraga taught and baptized for eight days, and selected a site on which to build a church.

Low on supplies, the small mission band then traversed the north shore. The Indians admired Father Baraga’s willingness to sacrifice the little he had for others, but what would happen when the supplies ran out? After rising and praying in the early morning hours, he pressed on. Toward nightfall, a flock of birds drew their canoe to shore where Father Baraga and his companions gathered 130 eggs.

Grand River

Rather than returning to Arbre Croche, Father Baraga, at the urging of the Indians, spent the winter 300 miles south at Grand River (now Grand Rapids, Michigan). In a building owned by the Catholic fur trader Louis Campall, he offered Mass and instructed converts. Because his report to his new bishop in Detroit, John B. Purcell, noted eighty-six converts and the potential for more among the 900 Ottawa natives, the Bishop directed him to transfer to Grand River. A Redemptorist priest and two brothers were sent to serve the mission at Arbre Croche.

Father Baraga built a church and school. He also confronted the fur traders, who exchanged cheap whiskey for the valuable furs the Indians had trapped; he challenged them for making their bellies their god. The furious traders threatened his life and even went to his home to burn it down. It was only a visit of the sheriff — in response, no doubt, to his unceasing prayers — that saved the day.

The Indians renewed their faith, abandoning their drunkenness to return to the sacraments to nourish their souls. They found joy in their servant, Father Baraga. His speech was kind and his approach gentle, and an air of reverence pervaded all that he did. His conduct induced the Indians to trust him and believe in the Faith he professed.

After the new church was dedicated, other Catholics joined the native Catholics from up and down the river.

La Pointe

In July 1835, Bishop Purcell sent Father Baraga to La Pointe (near Bayfield, Wisconsin). This came about through the intrigues of a government agent angered that the saintly priest had used his legal training to aid Indians whom the government had treated unjustly. Suffering his own injustice with heroic virtue, Father Baraga prayed for even greater suffering so that he might offer it for the conversion of the Ojibway Indians living near Lake Superior. Both aspects of his prayers were answered. When the boat that was to have brought his winter clothing failed to arrive, he was left to spend the fierce winter with just summer clothing. The suffering bore its fruit: Our Lord’s servant baptized twenty adults and two children on Christmas Day.

Father Baraga later traveled to Fond du Lac, where he worked with a pious Catholic trader, Pierre Cotte. There he baptized another fifty-one members of the Ojibway tribe.

In 1836, Father Baraga returned to Europe to seek priests and funds for the missionary work. While there, he printed a prayer book and a life of Christ in the Ojibway and Ottawa languages. He was also received in audience by Pope Pius IX, who listened intently to his account of the American missions.

Returning to La Pointe, Father Baraga found his converts steadfastly practicing their faith. What joy filled his soul as a second, larger church and a school took shape. In 1838, the church was dedicated, and the bishop confirmed 112 adults.

L’Anse

Always seeking new souls to save, Father Baraga was asked by Pierre Crebassa, another Catholic fur trader, to come to L’Anse, on the shore of Keweenaw Bay off Lake Superior, to set up a mission for the Indians living there. He arrived in 1843 to find the village in drunken revelry. Nevertheless, he saw excellent grounds in which to plant the seeds of faith. He converted many souls and helped them build a church and log homes for their families.

During the winter and through the next summer, Father Baraga visited the missions he had founded, encouraging the faithful to persevere in the faith. He was pleased to see that, thanks to their hard work and sober living, the Indians were better prepared to endure the harsh winters. Continuing his solitary missionary treks in the winter of 1845, he traveled some 600 miles in just five weeks.

“We will be saved”

As evident from his life, Father Baraga had absolute confidence in divine Providence. Once he had to make a journey from Sand Island, off the Wisconsin shore, to Grand Portage, in present Minnesota. Rather than travel 200 miles along the coast, he insisted on canoeing across the open waters of Lake Superior. A storm arose, and Father Baraga and his Indian companion Lewis found themselves buffeted by the wind and waves. Turning to the priest, the Indian found him praying calmly. Father Baraga looked up to his friend and assured him, “We will be saved, go straight ahead.” Soon they saw a small, calm river, where they disembarked, erecting a large cross in gratitude to God and His Blessed Mother for their deliverance. To this day, the river is known as Cross River.

In the spring of 1850, Father Baraga traveled from La Pointe to Ontonagon. His companions became alarmed when the ice they were walking on broke apart and they were set adrift on an ice floe that moved farther and farther from shore. Seeing their alarm, Father Baraga comforted them. Scarcely had he spoken the words, “We will be safe,” when the wind shifted, driving them directly to the safety of the shore — close to their destination. As they left the floe, Father Baraga said with a gentle smile, “See, we have traveled a great distance, yet we have worked little.”

Heir of the Apostles

In May 1852, the First Council of Baltimore petitioned Pope Pius IX for a bishop to serve the upper peninsula of Michigan and adjacent areas of Lake Superior. That fall, Father Baraga completed his 1,700-page dictionary of the Ojibway language, a labor of twenty years. On November 1, 1853, Father Baraga was preparing to leave for Europe to beg for priests and funds when he received word of his appointment as bishop of the diocese of Sault Sainte Marie.

Arriving in Europe, Father Baraga was greeted by crowds who had read of his missionary endeavors. They were moved by the penitential life written into every line of the tanned and weathered face of the small and frail priest. During his year in Europe, five priests had promised to come to his diocese, but only two actually did so. Bishop Baraga resided in Sault Sainte Marie for the next twelve years. He regularly visited the outlying missions of his diocese, traveling by horse, sleigh, steamer, and on foot.

“Take up thy cross and follow Me.”

In 1855, Bishop Baraga lost his hearing due to an illness. It was a cross to be unable to hear the confessions of the Indians he loved so much, but he bore it heroically. Eventually, Deo gratias, his hearing returned. When ungenerous souls denigrated him for “spoiling” his Indian converts with too many kindnesses, he suffered their calumnies with his customary patience and charity.

In 1857, the stamina of Bishop Baraga, now sixty, began to fail. Despite the crippling pain he silently bore, he continued to bring the consolation of the sacraments — and of his presence — to the far-flung Indian missions, even in the midst of winter. On one such journey, Bishop Baraga was so wracked with fever that he could scarcely keep up with his Indian companions, but Divine Providence and his perseverance saw him safely to his destination.

Saved by the Cross

In 1865, Father Baraga’s episcopal seat was moved from Sault Sainte Marie to Marquette, Michigan. The following year, the Second Council of Baltimore required his attendance. As he was preparing to depart, he suffered a stroke. Nevertheless, he felt obliged to attend and traveled three long and grueling weeks, reaching Baltimore in seriously weakened health. While attending the Council, he suffered another stroke and fell down a flight of stairs. Miraculously, divine Providence intervened through the instrumentality of the bishop’s pectoral cross, which punctured his chest and caused bleeding that relieved the blood pressure within his head. While his brother bishops urged him to stay, Bishop Baraga quietly left the Council to return to his diocese of Marquette to live his final days in the company of the Indians for whom he had given his life.

For the next three years, despite the increasing burdens imposed by his failing health, he continued his labors. On January 19, 1868, after thirty-seven years of sacrificial apostolate, Bishop Frederic Baraga died, trusting in God to his dying breath.

How many of the converts this lover of souls led to Christ are now with him, God alone knows, but who can doubt that those who remained faithful are with their beloved snowshoe priest in the celestial cathedral we call heaven?

As for us here below in the ranks of the Church Militant, the cause for Bishop Baraga’s canonization having been approved by Rome, we ardently long for the day that Holy Mother Church will solemnly elevate this noble son to the lofty altars of Her saints.

Testimony regarding preservation of Bishop Baraga’s bodyBishop Baraga’s body was originally buried in the ground beneath a chapel in the old Bishop’s residence in Marquette. From there it was translated to the cathedral, at which time the casket was opened for inspection.

Msgr. Antoine Rezek, who was among those present, related what he had observed to Msgr. Zryd of Bishop Baraga Association Headquarters. Msgr. Rezek found the body still quite intact at that time. While the body had naturally decomposed, the bones were intact and the skin and features were still recognizable. It had been buried in a purple cope that still held together. Msgrs. Rezek and Hager were able to move the remains into the new casket by lifting the cope.

His remains were transferred to a new crypt. The coffin was again opened and Msgr. Zryd, then present, provided an eye-witness account. He said that the body was found as previously described by Msgr. Rezek, that is, still dressed in the purple cope and having the skull still intact and with sufficient patches of dry skin and hair to make the Bishop’s features recognizable in comparison with photographs taken during his life.

Why Snowshoes?

In this connection I will explain how a missionary has to travel during winter in this Indian country. In winter a person cannot travel otherwise than on foot. As the snow is generally deep and there are no traveled roads, the only way to travel is on snowshoes. The snowshoes are from four to five feet long and one foot wide and are tied to one’s feet. With them a man can travel even in the deepest snow without sinking in very much. But this style of walking is very tiresome, especially for Europeans, who are not accustomed to it. When the person must walk upon such snowshoes all day long, and for that many days in succession, especially in these trackless North American forests, he cannot travel without extreme fatigue and almost total exhaustion.

Another hardship is sleeping in the open air in a northern winter, for there are no huts in which to stay overnight. Generally speaking, a man may travel four or five days in this extensive and thinly settled country before coming to another Indian settlement. It is true, a large fire is made but this soon goes out, for the Indian guide who accompanies us sleeps the whole night as if he were in a feather-bed, and then a person suffers much from the cold. It is especially hard to pass the night in such a way when it storms and snows all night and in the morning a person is covered all over with snow. But all these hardships the missionary joyfully endures if thereby he can, through God’s help and grace, save even one soul.

This winter I have to make a far longer journey, that is, from L’Anse to La Pointe and Fond du Lac and return, a distance of about 690 miles! I will begin this journey, please God, on the 4th of February, and hope to be back here again before the end of March. I am going to Fond du Lac, Minnesota, to make arrangements for the building of a church there. I think, thereafter, I will not go there anymore, as now a missionary has arrived for my assistance, namely Rev. Father Otto Skolla, who spends this winter at La Pointe, where I have been for eight years."