By Gerry Curan
Augustine Tolton, 32, former slave, was finally ordained a priest on Holy Saturday, April 24, 1886, at St. John Lateran Church. Cardinal Simeoni arranged for Father Tolton to celebrate his first Mass at St. Peter’s. The next day, Easter Sunday, a special altar normally used by cardinals and distinguished clerics, was set up in the center of the sanctuary of St. Peter’s Basilica. There, Fr. Tolton and Cardinal Simeoni concelebrated Mass. The next day, Pope Leo XIII, received the newly-ordained priests of the pontifical college. Laying his hands upon each new priest, he blessed them all. In June, Fr. Tolton started to leave for Quincy, Illinois. Though he had scrimped and saved the past six years, he discovered he lacked the funds for the return trip. Cardinal Simeoni appealed to his ‘higher-ups’ and asked that they grant Fr. Tolton 220 lire, as the 485 lire he had was insufficient. The request was granted. Fr. Tolton headed back to the U.S. aboard the Cunarder Gallia and arrived in New York City July 7, 1886.
Fr. Tolton wanted to celebrate his first solemn High Mass in America at a black parish. This was done before a large crowd of worshipers at St. Benedict the Moor Church at Bleeker and Downing Streets in New York City on July 11, 1886. Then, onward to Quincy.
Fr. Tolton’s train pulled into the Quincy station Saturday, July 17, 1886 to a huge crowd, made up of both blacks and whites. A brass band, used to playing military airs and marches, blared out "Holy God, We Praise Thy Name." He was transported to the church in a carriage covered with flowers and pulled by four white horses. At 11 a.m. the next day, Fr. Tolton celebrated his first Mass in Quincy at St. Boniface Church to an overflow crowd of 1,000 whites and 500 blacks. Within a week, he was installed as pastor of St. Joseph’s Church, the parish he’d helped establish. A house to serve as a rectory was rented where his mother served as both housekeeper and the church sacristan.
Fr. Tolton embraced the new responsibilities with his usual enthusiasm. He established a girls’ choir, consisting of both blacks and whites. The St. Joseph Altar Society, dedicated to the material upkeep of the church, grew from 48 members to 80, again, of both races. Every Sunday the church was filled.
Because Fr. Tolton graduated from the Collegium in Rome, he was required to send back a yearly report. After a year as pastor, his report sounded somewhat discouraging:
During the year that I have been pastor, the number of Negro Catholics has not increased. It seems they do not care much for religion. The majority in this place are Baptists and Calvinists; many of them are Masons. I had only six converts this year.
Since most of the parishioners were very poor, financial support of the church was shouldered heavily by whites, to which Fr. Tolton was very grateful. After about a year, for a variety of reasons, parishioner participation leveled off, and, in some cases, declined. Fr. Tolton’s frustrations were just beginning. A new pastor at St. Boniface, Father Michael Weiss, was openly expressing his dislike for Fr. Tolton.
When Fr. Weiss was appointed pastor, he was urged to eradicate the massive debt St. Boniface had accrued. Observing the white parishioners supporting St. Joseph’s, he told Fr. Tolton directly to minister to blacks exclusively and he should order all white persons out of his church. Fr. Weiss even insinuated to his own congregation that the Mass that whites attended at St. Joseph’s would be considered invalid for their Sunday obligation. A confrontation finally occurred between the two, with Fr. Weiss basically telling him to go elsewhere if he didn’t like it in Quincy. Fr. Tolton reminded him that he was under an oath of obligation to the Collegium to go where it bishop directed him. Fr. Weiss responded coldly that he would take it up with the bishop. Summoned to Bishop James Ryan’s office, Fr. Tolton was told to ‘quit luring white people to his parish’ or go elsewhere. Fr. Tolton furiously began writing other dioceses for an appointment and received a positive answer from Patrick Archbishop Feehan of Chicago who assured him of a warm welcome there for the 300 or so Catholics in the Windy City. After three requests to the Sacred Congregation de Propaganda Fide in Rome to be transferred to Chicago, he received such permission. He left Quincy by train to Chicago on Thursday, December 19, 1889, a discouraged man.
After arriving in Chicago and settling in, Fr. Tolton was welcomed by Archbishop Feehan, who informed him that he had full jurisdiction over all black Catholics in Chicago. He was assigned to Old St. Mary’s Church, which formerly housed Plymouth Congregational Church at 911 So. Wabash Avenue. It was built in 1866 and immediately following the Great Fire of 1871, sold to Old St. Mary’s for $112,000. In 1881, an association was formed at Old St. Mary’s: St. Augustine’s Society, which acted both as a parish and a benevolent organization for Chicago’s black Catholics.
In 1882, Society members began attending Mass in the church basement, in an area designated as St. Augustine’s Church. In 1887, some members of St. Augustine’s petitioned the archbishop to have Fr. Tolton as their pastor and within two years, fate brought these two parties together.
Fr. Tolton met the thirty or so parishioners of St. Augustine’s and celebrated the 10 o’clock Mass with them on Sunday, December 19, 1889. The congregation reacted to Fr. Tolton’s appearance with puzzlement, awe, and pure joy, at seeing “one of their own” saying Mass.
He noted that the difference in the accommodations between those in Quincy and those in Chicago could not have been more striking. Back in Quincy, he had a well-appointed, neat little church (36 x 70 feet) and a comfortable rectory where his mother and sister also lived. In Chicago, his church was a basement corner with a makeshift altar and he lived in a rooming house, with no family.
As destiny would have it, Old St. Mary’s basement was needed for other things and the tiny—but growing—St. Augustine congregation pressed for a church of their own. In discussing the problem with the archbishop, Fr. Tolton suggested a store-front church, a temporary chapel in the district. The archbishop readily agreed and Fr. Tolton opened such a chapel in a run-down area near 22nd Street and Indiana Avenue—next door to Fr. Tolton’s rooming house. He named it St. Monica’s Chapel. Soon, the St. Augustine Society rented a house on 36th Street for a rectory. Shortly thereafter, Fr. Tolton’s mother and his sister Anne joined him in Chicago and about that same time, nineteen of his converts from St. Joseph’s in Quincy relocated to Chicago as well. Despite his humble surroundings, Fr. Tolton’s spirits were up.
Some years earlier, a wealthy Chicago woman, Mrs. Anne O’Neill, had given the archdiocese $10,000 for the express purpose of building a church for the city’s black Catholics. Earlier, in 1888, the Archbishop Feehan had purchased the northeast corner of 36th and Dearborn Streets. He also told Fr. Tolton to begin plans for the construction of a church on the lot—translation: Go raise the funds and then we’ll build it.
The St. Augustine Society provided some funds through their ‘church fund’ and the nation’s bishops contributed from a special national collection, taken up yearly, for ‘Indians and Negroes.’ During the Catholic Colored Congress in Washington, D.C., in 1889, Fr. Tolton learned of the works of Katherine Drexel. In Fr. Tolton’s lifetime, Katherine Drexel would donate more than $36,000 to his ministry. In 1891, the actual construction on the new church began. According to Father Aloysius Zimmermann, S.V.D., “A Negro architect, Negro contractors, and (Negro) workmen put up the building” and that “white Catholics donated liberally.” The new church was named St. Monica’s.
Within two years, church construction was halted for lack of funds. A temporary flat roof, rather than gables and spires, went over the church and services began. Fr. Tolton’s congregation grew to number more than 600. He celebrated Mass daily and twice on Sunday, performed all his priestly duties faithfully, even organized an adult instruction class at night. Still, he could see that his flock was in need of material help—and that it affected their spiritual life. He was essentially working all alone and the work was taking its toll. Fatigue and exhaustion plagued him daily. In addition, his hands sometimes trembled during Mass and oftentimes he remained seated in a chair in order to complete Mass.
Returning from a priests’ retreat July 9, 1897, Fr. Tolton left the 35th Street train station just before noon and headed for the rectory a short distance away. Chicago was enduring a heat wave that day and the temperature was 105°. According to the Chicago Tribune, he suddenly “...was seen to reel and then fall heavily to the sidewalk...” He was transported by the Stanton Avenue police to nearby Mercy Hospital, where he died at 8:30 that night. Hospital records indicated death was by heat stroke and uremia. He was 43.
Father Tolton’s body lay in state in St. Monica’s church Sunday and Monday. Persons from all over the city, both black and white, paid their last respects. The archdiocese Vicar General, Father John Gilliam, celebrated the Requiem Mass before an overflow crowd that included more than 100 priests, while the archdiocese Chancellor delivered the sermon. Outside the church, ten Chicago policemen managed the crowd. The body was transported back to Quincy for another Requiem Mass in the parish of his childhood, St. Peter’s. As at St. Monica’s, the church was filled. According to the Quincy Journal, “...the cortegé was four blocks long plus street cars taking the mourners to the cemetery . . .” As was Fr. Tolton’s wish, he was buried with his fellow priests in St. Peter’s Cemetery. A large cross was erected over his burial plot, which read:
Rev.
Augustine Tolton
The first colored Priest
In United States
Born at Brush Creek, Ralls Co., Mo.
April 1, I854
Ordained in Rome April 24, I886
Died July 9, I897
Requiescat in Pace.
St. Monica’s parish changed following Fr. Tolton’s death. It was reduced to mission status. Mass was celebrated just once a week, on Sunday. All parish functions and organizations were transferred to St. Elizabeth parish at 41st Street and Wabash Avenue. Active participants in the parish dropped to below a hundred. After a couple of years, parish activists met to navigate some future for St. Monica’s. First, they sent a delegation to present their dilemma to the archbishop; and second, they contacted the Josephite Fathers in Baltimore to secure the services of the only other African-American priest in the U.S., Father C. Randolph Uncles. When the latter step failed, Archbishop Feehan appointed Father John Morris as pastor. Fr. Morris’s first act as pastor was to re-open St. Monica’s school. He remained pastor for fifteen years. During this period, Katherine Drexel was called upon for financial help; she also sent five nuns from her order to operate the school. After a year, she purchased a nearby armory and converted it into a school. Five years later, with the decline of the school’s population, there was no choice but to merge it with the larger St. Elizabeth’s school. Eventually the small number of parishioners could no longer support St. Monica’s and was finally closed in 1924. Unfortunately, there was a limit even to Katherine Drexel’s charity.
Mother Tolton remained St. Monica’s sacristan and, at 85, died November 10, 1911; her daughter Anne, died the following year. Anne’s daughter, Rose, died in 1922. All are buried at Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Chicago. Fr. Tolton’s little church was demolished in 1945 to make room for a housing project.
_____
Gerry Curran is a Southern California based writer who was born in Chicago and raised on the South Side. His work has appeared in "Nostalgia Digest." Gerry served in the Marine Corps, and is now happily retired with his wife, Vicki. He spends a lot of time studying Chicago's history.
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Like her brothers, Jessie was born in Indiana. She eventually married Albert Raleigh and they moved to the wide open spaces of Helena, MT. where they welcomed a son. The marriage didn't last, however, and around 1914, she divorced Albert and moved to Chicago (actually Glencoe). A well brought up young lady, Jessie had always been interested in art and cultural things. Though not an artist herself, she promoted (and sold) a sort of good luck charm, popular in those days, a statuette or figurine called The Good Fairy which rivaled the Kewpie doll at that time. Her interest in doll making began about 1916. But, Jessie didn't want to make just any kind of plaything; her dolls were to have an artistic quality. With a $20,000 loan from one of her 
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