and foreign-born — were clearly trying to gain their own foothold in the German establishment. German clerics in Wisconsin undoubtedly felt that defensiveness about Irish leadership was justified. Over half of all Catholic bishops in the United States from 1789 to 1935 were Irish, even during decades when Irish Catholics represented only 17 percent of the Catholic population. German Catholics had a saying that expressed this fear: Mit der Sprache ghet der Glaube (“With language goes faith”). If they lost their right to worship in their native tongue and to teach their children that language, they feared that their children would lose the faith as well.
When Archbishop Henni was about to retire in 1878, both American and Irish priests wrote letters aimed at discouraging the appointment of another German. They wrote to Archbishop James Gibbons of Baltimore, pointing out that the archbishop of Milwaukee and the bishops of the other two Wisconsin dioceses, La Crosse and Green Bay, were German, as were all ecclesiastical officials. There had never been an English-speaking priest in any of these positions. In spite of these efforts, however, Bishop Michael Heiss, the German bishop of La Crosse, succeeded to the archbishopric of Milwaukee in 1880, and was followed by another bishop of German background, Frederick Xavier Katzer, in 1891.
Barney Casey came to Milwaukee just about one year after Archbishop Katzer. Thus, while Archbishop Katzer struggled with Irish-German sensitivities at the chancery across town, one of his newest seminarians did battle in the classroom.
At a German seminary, German and Latin were required courses. It was in the academic arena that Barney began to understand the pains and frustrations that life can bring. Stress — and, possibly, living in the cold rooms in this five-story seminary near Lake Michigan — contributed to his frequent attacks of quinsy sore throat.
Barney was well-liked at St. Francis. Though quite a bit older than his classmates, he did not put himself above them in any way. To help pay for his tuition, he even became the seminary barber. Since students rose at 5:30 a.m. and were required to follow a rigid daily routine, the barbering job took time away from study, and Barney struggled to fulfill all of his obligations.
Although he had to work hard at his studies, he also took time to skate on the big rink during the winter and to play ball during the warmer months. When he assumed the role of catcher for the first time, however, he shocked his classmates. To their horror, and despite their appeals, he refused to wear a catcher’s mask. With a quiet grin, the wiry young man simply made a huge Sign of the Cross in the air where balls would be zooming in and bats would be swinging at dangerous speeds. Then, he crouched down on his haunches and proceeded to play.
This approach seemed to epitomize his particular spirituality: those who came in contact with him sensed a deep spiritual quality about him. He was extremely and deeply prayerful, they noticed. But he was very approachable, too.
Despite his busy schedule, Barney did extremely well at his studies during his first semesters. The school years of 1892, ’93, and ’94 passed in a blur of unceasing work, broken only by some vacation and time spent with his family back in Superior. During the 1894–95 school year, Barney was able to raise his grades high enough to enter the “fifth class,” which was actually the first year of college seminary training. During the second semester of the 1895–96 term, however, his grades dropped seriously, and seminary officials brought the young man in to talk to him frankly. They told Barney they doubted he could handle the academic demands that further college-level seminary work would require of him, and he was asked to leave.
Barney couldn’t completely understand their concerns. He had earned grades in the 70s in Latin, algebra, geometry, and history, and in the 77-to-85 range in German. In vocal music, U.S. history, and natural philosophy, his marks were in the 85-to-93 range. His grades in Christian doctrine and English were also good, just as they had been during the first semester. His marks were a bit low in some areas, but he clearly was not failing. So, it mystified him. Why was he being dismissed from the diocesan seminary?
Bewildered, he prepared to leave Milwaukee, believing that his journey toward the priesthood had abruptly come to a halt. But then, diocesan seminary officials assured Barney that he did, indeed, seem to have a vocation, and suggested that he might be more suited to seminary study in a religious order. So, Barney took their advice and went to visit the Capuchin seminary in Milwaukee, also called St. Francis Seminary.
Once there, however, a great heaviness began to fill the young man. The hint of austerity, the unkempt beards, and the somber setting at the Capuchin seminary depressed him, and he left the Capuchins quickly. He headed home for Superior under a cloud that his prayers did not seem to lift. At twenty-five, and after four-and-a-half years of work, his dreams of serving the Lord were already dissolving, seemingly for no reason.
In the months that Barney was still wondering why he’d been dismissed, an editorial appeared in the Milwaukee Catholic Citizen. The editorial writer noted that Wisconsin state colleges, Marquette College in Milwaukee, and Sacred Heart College in Watertown, had all graduated a large number of Irish-Americans that year. But, the writer added, the graduating classes of Pio Nono College and of the diocesan seminary were composed entirely of German- and Polish-Americans. The Catholic Citizen challenge continued:
What is the explanation of the situation? Is there a dearth of vocations for the priesthood among the Irish-Americans of Wisconsin? Or is there something inhospitable about the atmosphere of St. Francis? We pause for meditation.
It’s likely that the editorial never came into Barney’s hands. He was disturbed, but his feelings were more confused than angry. He watched as his brothers pursued their goals. Jim became a mail carrier, while Maurice became a plumber and was traveling. John managed the dairy business for Bernard Sr. while studying law. Ellen, his oldest sister and now in her early thirties, had recently married Thomas Traynor. Edward was in high school but was thinking about the seminary himself, while the younger children were still in grade school. His siblings seemed to have no lack of direction and knowledge about the paths they needed to take.
In the throes of great distress, Barney succumbed to his bothersome throat ailment throughout the summer of 1896. His mother and sister Ellen tended to him and supported him in shouldering the pain in his spirit, but summer and autumn were still a torment for him. Two matters needed clarification in his mind: whether he had the call to the priesthood in the first place, and which religious order he was to join in order to study again for ordination. On August 23, he wrote a letter to Fr. Bonaventure Frey, provincial of the Capuchins. They had already agreed to accept him if he decided to join them. Barney wrote:
Dear Rev. Father:
I received your welcome letter of the 20th a few days ago. I would ask now what I should do with regards to books, clothes, etc., as also when your scholastic year begins. I suppose you were informed about my bill of $525.00 at St. Francis. What should I do about that before I go to join you? — supposing I could not pay cash.
Hoping to hear from you again soon I am, very Rev. Father!
Yours sincerely
Bernard F. Casey
Finally, toward the end of the year, after months of anxiety and prayer, Barney asked his mother and sister Ellen to join with him in praying a novena. He needed to have this matter of a vocation made clear. They readily agreed to his request and joined him in asking heaven for direction. Thus the novena began.
On December 8, on the feast of the Immaculate Conception, Barney was praying after receiving holy Communion at his parish church, Sacred Heart, in Superior. The novena was almost over. On this day, a feast of the Blessed Virgin, he made a private vow of chastity. No matter what decision was made about religious life, he would give his total devotion to God.
Then, in the midst of his quiet prayer, he received a very distinct message
