THREE

ANTI-CATHOLICISM, BAPTISM AND THE LIMITS OF CATHOLICITY

If the first major debate in the Old School focused on its own polity, the second set of issues intersected with a broader set of concerns. The General Assembly of 1845 argued three significant questions in its two week sessions at Cincinnati (May 15-27, 1845). The most famous decision affected slavery (chapter six), but the debates on marriage (chapter four) and the validity of Roman Catholic baptism lasted much longer. These three issues drew the church to consider its relationship to the civil law and to other churches. All three questions had percolated in the church for several years, and had been the objects of previous General Assembly discussions, but the question of Roman Catholic baptism excited the widest discussion in the newspapers following the Assembly.

The Old School General Assembly voted 173-8 to declare Roman Catholic baptism invalid. Given the general anti-Catholic sentiment of the times, this may not sound surprising. But this decision is remarkable because the Old School prided itself on its conservatism, and yet this was the first time that any Reformed church had rejected the validity of Roman Catholic baptism.[1] Presbyterians in Scotland and Ireland had historically followed the 1565 decision of the Scottish General Assembly accepting the validity of such baptisms.[2] While anti-Catholicism played a significant role (together with the traditional eschatological description of the pope as the “beast” or “antichrist”), that alone cannot explain why the Old School chose to reject the validity of Roman Catholic baptism. Changing conceptions of catholicity, along with the common sense moral reasoning associated with what Mark Noll has called a Reformed literal hermeneutic were also crucial in developing overwhelming support for such a radical innovation.[3]

In America, the question of Roman Catholic baptism was initially raised at the General Assembly in 1832. The moderator, the Rev. James Hoge, pastor at Columbus, Ohio, appointed a temporary committee, including Robert J. Breckinridge, at that time a young ruling elder. This committee urged the Assembly to deny its validity.[4] But the committee’s report collided with Samuel Miller’s staunch defense of the historic Reformed position, so the Assembly referred the matter to a study committee of leading theology professors from around the country.[5] Its geographical diffusion hamstrung this committee, so the following year the Assembly referred the matter to a committee of ministers and professors along the New York-Baltimore corridor.[6]

The two major Presbyterian decisions regarding Roman Catholicism occurred in 1835 and 1845, in the midst of one of the most rabidly anti-Catholic periods of American history.[7] The first, instigated by Robert Breckinridge’s brother John, determined that “the Roman Catholic Church has essentially apostatized from the religion of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and therefore cannot be recognized as a Christian Church.” John Breckinridge’s Presbytery of Baltimore had introduced an overture on popery, and his proposed resolution declared that Rome was apostate,

Samuel Miller, John Breckinridge’s father-in-law, could “not agree to all the report, especially to the calling in question the validity of Romish baptism.” Miller urged the Assembly to remove the reference to the sacraments, since the Reformed churches had always acknowledged Roman Catholic baptism. In reply, Breckinridge argued that “the moment I admit the validity of Romish ordinances. . . I am beaten in my argument” against Rome. While he admitted that ecclesiastical statements would not accomplish much in debate with “papists,” he claimed that since popery was becoming more and more powerful, it was time to act.[9] In the end, the Assembly removed the reference to the sacraments, but retained the general statement that the Roman Catholic church was apostate and no longer a church of Jesus Christ.

The Assembly had refused to reject Roman Catholic baptism explicitly, but the Breckinridges hoped that this more general condemnation would pave the way for a later reconsideration of the baptism question. And they had succeeded in bringing the question of Roman Catholic expansion to the attention of the Presbyterian Church. In a unanimous decision, the General Assembly urged all Presbyterians to resist the extension of Romanism “by means of the pulpit and the press, and all other proper and Christian means,” and declared that it was “utterly inconsistent with the strongest obligations of Christian parents to place their children for education in Roman Catholic Seminaries.”[10]

But while the church had not formally condemned Roman Catholic baptism, many pointed out that the declaration that Rome was no longer a Christian church had implications for its baptisms. As M. Maclean, editor of the Southern Christian Herald, replied to one inquirer, “the inference from this resolution of the Assembly seems to us to be adverse to the validity of Roman Catholic baptism. For an association which cannot be recognized as a Christian church surely can have no authority to administer ordinances which only the ministers of the church can administer.”[11]

1. The Underlying Issue: Where Was the Church?

The question at stake was the matter of catholicity. Presbyterians generally recognized the validity of other branches of the Christian church, but for centuries that recognition was mostly focused on churches in other countries. The old confessional model of the Reformed church had insisted that the sacraments must be administered by a duly ordained minister. If the established Church of Scotland deposed a minister, then he could no longer serve as a pastor, and therefore there was little danger of him attempting to continue baptizing and preaching without being labeled as a schismatic, detached from the church of Jesus Christ.

In America, the Presbyterian church was merely one church among many, yet it attempted to retain its catholic conception of the fellowship of the church.[12] If a Presbyterian minister became convinced of Baptistic views, he might be deposed, but then he would merely turn to the Baptists. Likewise, if a Presbyterian minister became an Arminian, he could simply transfer to the Methodists. And since the Presbyterian church recognized these other denominations as Christian churches, how could it consistently depose a man from the ministry who merely taught the same things as others whom the church recognized as validly ordained ministers?[13]

Several case studies presented themselves. One of the first was the Cumberland Presbyterian schism of 1806-1810. The Cumberland ministers had been deposed in 1806, and had only started the Cumberland Presbyterian Church in 1810. Since deposition removed a man from the ordained ministry, technically his baptisms would be considered lay baptisms–a thing not recognized by the Presbyterian church. But the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, with its blend of Calvinism and Arminianism, was closer to the Presbyterian church than the Wesleyan Methodists. How could Presbyterians recognize Methodist baptism, while rejecting that of the Cumberland Presbyterians? In a move that attempted to preserve the integrity of Presbyterian discipline, while recognizing the validity of other denominations, the General Assembly of 1825 declared that Cumberland Presbyterian baptisms were invalid from 1806-1810, while the Cumberland ministers were under the discipline of the church, but were valid after 1810, once they had their own denominational structure.[14]

In a similar case in South Carolina in the 1830s, the Synod of South Carolina and Georgia declared that the Independent Presbyterian Church (a schism led by the Rev. William C. Davis in 1810) had no valid ordinations or baptisms, stating “That this Synod do not acknowledge as valid the ordinance of Baptism as administered by a deposed Minister, or by any one whom such deposed Minister may have ordained, or by a Layman.” One of its presbyteries disagreed. Following the Assembly’s decision regarding the Cumberland Presbyterians, Bethel Presbytery argued that while the Independent Presbyterian ordinances had “a high degree of irregularity,” they were still valid. In an intriguing argument, one presbyter from Bethel argued that the censure of deposition did not remove Davis’ ministerial office; “the only effect of such a sentence is to declare him no longer a Minister in our connexion. Are we to set ourselves up as the standard, and say that as soon as a man ceases to hold our peculiar views of doctrine, he ceases to be a Minister?” If a Presbyterian minister left to become a Baptist or an Episcopalian, the church generally did not depose him–or if it did, that would not alter his ministerial character. Arguing that the Synod’s decision was bigoted, sectarian, and high-church, he urged the church to reconsider.[15] This presbyter was attempting to articulate a way of maintaining discipline, while recognizing the catholicity of the visible church.[16]

Benjamin Gildersleeve, the editor of the Charleston Observer, replied that this argument undermined traditional Presbyterian discipline, and would require the church to accept lay baptisms and lay ordinations. Deposition was not merely a statement that a man ceased to be a minister “in our connexion.” It really removed him from the gospel ministry entirely. He was no longer a clergyman, but was a layman. Gildersleeve insisted that while Presbyterians may have recognized the existence of other denominations, they could not allow this to interfere with the proper exercise of discipline.[17] Gildersleeve was technically correct with respect to the language of the church order, but the church order was not designed for the denominational world.

By the 1840s questions were also being raised about the propriety of accepting Campbellite baptisms. The basic problem was that the Campbellites had no creed. How could the Presbyterian church determine whether the Campbellites were truly Christian if they did not say what they believed? Catholicity had its limits. One author wrote in 1849 that Old School Presbyterians did not generally accept Campbellite baptism: “Our uniform practice has been to receive persons coming from that communion, as coming from the world, unless they have been baptized by a regularly ordained minister of an evangelical church before becoming connected with that body.”[18] Another writer alleged that many Campbellites denied the doctrine of the Trinity.[19] In 1858 the Presbytery of Transylvania (Kentucky) had declared that valid baptism required that the administration be by “a true Church of Christ, holding baptism to be a seal of the righteousness of faith and a sign of cleansing by the blood of Christ and the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit; and to acknowledge also the person administering that baptism to be a minister of Christ lawfully called to administer ordinances.” The presbytery could not recognize the Campbellites as a “part of the true Church visible,” because they had no creed: “The vessel that sails the seas, refusing to show the flag, is presumed to be piratical.” Since the Campbellites refused to say what they believed, there was no way for other churches to maintain fellowship with them.[20] Six years later the General Assembly declared Campbellite baptism to be invalid.[21]

The underlying question was how to practice the catholicity of the church in the midst of denominational chaos. The problem was how to maintain a semblance of discipline in the context of the pluriformity of the church. If discipline was going to mean anything, then the church could not recognize the baptisms performed by deposed ministers. But not all error was equally destructive. Those errorists who remained within the bounds of evangelical orthodoxy could still be recognized as ministers–but no longer as ministers in the Presbyterian church. On the other hand, those who departed from orthodoxy entirely could no longer be considered Christian churches.[22]

2. Catholicity vs. Rome: the Re-emergence of Anti-Catholicism, 1835-1845

But when Presbyterians attempted to establish criteria for determining where to find the church, they usually found their benchmark in the classic controversy with Rome. But the classic controversy was altered by the new denominational Protestant world. Never before had Presbyterians formally rejected the validity of Roman Catholic baptism, but they felt the relentless pressure of the renewed Protestant movement to deny that Rome was a true church–and if Rome was not a true church, then many could not see any alternative but to reject the validity of its baptism.

Linda Colley has argued that a Protestant national identity was formed in Great Britain primarily as a reaction to the French Roman Catholic “other,” during the colonial wars of the eighteenth century.[23] Colonial American anti-Catholic tendencies plainly drew on the same source.[24] Both the question of Roman Catholic baptism and the education debates reveal how Protestant nationality functioned in an American context.

Most historians recognize that the resurgence of anti-Catholicism was launched by fears over the increased Roman Catholic immigration in the 1820s and 1830s.[25] Ray Allen Billington’s 1938 The Protestant Crusade remains the most thorough study,[26] though it covers only the most virulent wing of the anti-Catholic movement, and focuses almost solely on the political connection between anti-Catholicism and nativism. While the linkage of anti-Catholicism with nativism is plain, the two movements are not identical. Much of American anti-Catholicism was rooted primarily in Protestants’ theological convictions regarding the nature of the Roman Catholic church, along with the political ramifications of those theological claims.[27] Anti-Catholics were not necessarily nativist, since many encouraged immigration from Protestant countries. As long as Roman Catholics remained a tiny minority, they could tolerate their presence; but as immigration swelled the ranks of the Roman Catholic church, Protestants became convinced that the religious and political power of Rome was a serious threat to American civil and religious liberties. The reason that historians have confused anti-Catholicism with nativism is due to the rhetorical pressures of American politics. Those who prized religious freedom could not consistently form an anti-Catholic political organization. They had to couch their political rhetoric in the language of nativism. This created a dual front for the anti-Catholic movement: 1) an overtly theological attack on their religious objections to Roman Catholicism (roughly parallel to their theological debates with other Protestants); and 2) a political argument that was rhetorically abstracted from the theological discussion in order to remain consistent with the ideals of religious freedom.[28]

Not surprisingly, then, Old School Presbyterians waged a war on both fronts–the theological and the political. The Protestant movement of the 1830s and 1840s utilized three basic media: the lecture, the debate, and the periodical press (which also printed many of the lectures and commented on the debates). A fourth forum developed in the civil courts, through a few high profile slander trials when Presbyterian editors were accused of defaming the character of certain Roman Catholic priests.

A. The Pulpit and the Press

The 1835 General Assembly had called for the pulpit and the press to be more active in combating the “aggression” of Rome, but this was merely in confirmation of what Nathan Rice and R. J. Breckinridge had already begun earlier that year. Rice started the Western Protestant in Bardstown, Kentucky, while Breckinridge edited the Baltimore Literary and Religious Magazine in Baltimore, Maryland, two of the first four Roman Catholic dioceses in America.

Breckinridge, three years into his first pastorate at the Second Presbyterian Church of Baltimore,[29] claimed that he came to Baltimore with no desire to engage in the papal controversy. But when he offered a series of lectures on Roman Catholicism to his own congregation, a Roman Catholic priest interrupted one of the lectures, causing great excitement, and drawing much larger crowds. The city press had made some unfavorable comments about Breckinridge’s lectures, but when local editors refused to publish his responses (which, knowing Breckinridge, were probably inflammatory), he had become convinced that the Roman Catholics were trying to control the city press. The only way for a zealous Protestant to be heard in Baltimore was to start his own paper. “The Catholic population of Baltimore, with less than one-quarter of the aggregate wealth, enterprise, and intelligence of this good city, has for years exerted tenfold the influence over the press, that all the remaining three-quarters ever did. And, I for one, am ready to cooperate for the destruction of this hurtful and undue influence.”[30]

The Baltimore Literary and Religious Magazine was designed to include at least one article devoted to the “papal controversy” every month. For the first two years of its existence, the paper devoted around three-quarters of its pages to the controversy.[31] Some of the literature was “anti-Catholic” (such as the “Trial of Antichrist,” which ran from February to December of 1836, a clever fictional trial of the papacy before the court of heaven), but a large portion consisted of historical documents, patristic, medieval and modern (to use the three-fold division of church history current at the time). Papal bulls, patristic and medieval essays on the way of salvation, and historic episodes in church-state relations were on display for Breckinridge’s readers to absorb. With the anti-Catholic articles interspersed between the historical material, the intended message was obvious: the greatest threat to the religious and civil liberties of the nation was the papacy. Breckinridge admitted that most American Catholics repudiated certain tenets of Rome (such as the doctrine that no Protestant could be saved)[32], but argued that if they disagreed with the Pope on such matters, perhaps it would be best if they became Protestants themselves!

Breckinridge did not ignore contemporary issues, however. He published articles defending Texas against the Mexican government as early as 1836, arguing that the problems in Texas were rooted in Roman Catholic attempts to get rid of Protestants, along with “republican government and religious liberty.” He claimed that two Roman Catholic bishops were funding the war with $1 million to drive all Americans out of Texas.[33] When the College of New Jersey (a Presbyterian college) gave William Gaston (the Roman Catholic chief justice of North Carolina) an honorary doctorate in 1835, Breckinridge exploded, suggesting that Gaston had received a dispensation from the Bishop of Baltimore in order to hold political office in North Carolina (until 1835, when it was altered for Gaston’s sake, North Carolina’s Constitution required an oath that the office holder affirmed the general truth of the Protestant religion).[34] In a similar vein, when it became known that Vice President Martin Van Buren had corresponded directly with the pope while secretary of state, and that now Roger B. Taney (a Roman Catholic) was a candidate for chief justice of the United States Supreme Court, Breckinridge was convinced that something was afoot:

As far as Breckinridge could see, the historical quest of the papacy for temporal power had not abated, and every advance made by Roman Catholic laymen was seen as being orchestrated by a secret papal conspiracy to overthrow American civil and religious liberty.[36]

B. The Debates

With such rhetoric coming from Breckinridge’s monthly magazine (as well as other Protestant journals), perhaps it is not surprising that Roman Catholic priests tried to meet the paranoia by accepting some of the invitations to debate. In the mid-1830s several Protestant/Catholic debates occurred throughout the country.[37] Perhaps the most famous took place in Baltimore in the winter of 1835/36 between the Reverend John Breckinridge (Robert’s brother, and the former pastor of Second Presbyterian Church in Baltimore), and Father John Hughes (later archbishop of New York), on the question of whether either the Roman Catholic or the Presbyterian religion was “inimical to civil or religious liberty.”[38] The topic had been chosen by the Union Literary and Debating Institute of Baltimore (consisting of both Roman Catholics and Protestants). The definitions agreed upon by both parties were that religious liberty consisted of the right of each individual to worship God according to the dictates of his own conscience, without injuring or invading the rights of others; while civil liberty consisted of the absolute rights of an individual restrained only for the preservation of order in society. Both sides agreed to limit themselves only to the official doctrine of the two churches, as exemplified in their confessions and official doctrinal decisions. Needless to say, neither party followed this rule, but regularly appealed to the most intolerant acts of the other church (and in some cases made egregious errors of fact in relying upon the false accusations of others). But their main arguments–and their perpetual accusations of dishonesty against each other–revealed the impassable gulf between them.

Hughes presented himself, and the Roman Catholic church, as the champion of civil and religious liberty. Claiming that Presbyterians were trying to “destroy the civil and religious reputation of Catholics,” the Ulster-born Hughes told his hearers: “I was born under the scourge of Protestant persecution, of which my fathers, in common with their Catholic countrymen, had been the victims for ages. Hence I know the value of that civil and religious liberty which our happy government secures to all.”[39]

Breckinridge replied that the very fact that Rome encourages religious establishments demonstrates that it is against religious liberty. Claiming that “conscientious papists” rejected the United States Constitution’s emphasis on the rights of conscience, he claimed that Roman Catholics “ascribe to the Pope the right and the power to dictate their creed, and to enforce obedience to it; and they are voluntary slaves by giving up their rights of conscience; and in all Catholic countries, they concur by civil and if necessary by military force, to compel submission in others. Hence no good Catholic can be a consistent American.”[40] He suggested that if Hughes actually believed in the importance of civil and religious liberty, he should insist upon the rights of Protestants in Roman Catholic countries–such as Italy–to worship freely.

Hughes declared in turn that he rejected the idea that human authority could interfere with the rights of conscience. The Pope, he said, may not dictate our creed and force us to obey it: “the Pope has no such right, and the proposition would be condemned by the Pope himself, and the whole Catholic Church, as heretical.”[41] He pointed to France and Poland as examples of Roman Catholic countries that maintained liberty of worship for Protestants and all others. When Breckinridge pointed out that the pope had regularly objected to this religious liberty in these countries, Hughes replied that this was the present pope’s position, but it had never been formally made a part of the church’s official doctrine.

Hughes then turned his guns on the Presbyterians (by which he meant the whole Reformed tradition). He suggested that attempts to pass sabbath legislation and the growing number of anti-Catholic periodicals and pamphlets were part of a conspiracy to make Presbyterianism the dominant religion in America. This, he insisted, broke from their Ulster heritage, since the Scots-Irish in Ulster would never have allowed such mistreatment of Irish Catholics as regularly occurred in America. Hughes had to admit that the Presbyterians had changed their creed to reject their former approval of established churches, but he argued that the Presbyterians ability to change their creed to fit political circumstances was dangerous because they could resume their intolerance as soon as it was convenient.

Breckinridge replied by pointing out that the Presbyterian Confession protects all Christians–including Roman Catholics.[42] Pointing to the involvement of John Witherspoon and other Presbyterians in the Revolutionary cause, he argued that the American Constitution was the result of Presbyterian convictions–not the cause. We are no longer Scots, he argued, but Americans. When Hughes pointed to the statement in the Larger Catechism that Presbyterians are bound to seek to “remove idolatry” (and Presbyterians considered Roman Catholic worship to be idolatrous), and argued that the attack on the Boston convent was simply the outworking of Presbyterian principles, Breckinridge replied that the proper way to remove idolatry was through persuasion–not through violence or political power. He admitted that Roman Catholics had every right to proselytize in this country, but Presbyterians had every right to try to stop them through free inquiry and debate. He agreed that all religions had a right to the protection of the magistrate, but that protection extended to the freedom to condemn the religious principles of other religions.[43] Predictably, both sides claimed the victory in the debate, but little was accomplished by either side.

C. Milly McPherson and Mr. Maguire: the Trials of N. L. Rice and R. J. Breckinridge

The conviction amongst Protestant groups that a Roman Catholic conspiracy was afoot occasionally led to accusations of serious ethical deviations, or even crimes. While the case of Maria Monk was the most famous, there were others that also gained notoriety, especially outside of the Northeast. Indeed, while Old School Presbyterians tended to believe that Monk was telling the truth, they seem to have not paid a great deal of attention to her case. Breckinridge waited ten months before commenting on the case, because he was uncertain of its truth. Its plausibility, however, was obvious to him. Like most in the Protestant movement, it took very little to convince him that Roman Catholic priests were capable of the most outrageous crimes.[44] When Monk turned against her Protestant “benefactors” there seems to have been little interest in Old School papers, as some published Brownlee’s version of the story, and others ignored the case entirely.[45]

Part of the reason for the relative indifference that Old School Presbyterians showed to Maria Monk may have been the fact that they had their own cause celebre, Milly McPherson. Nathan L. Rice was the pastor of the Presbyterian church in Bardstown, Kentucky from 1833-41. When he came to Bardstown, he was told of the mysterious disappearance of Milly McPherson, a Roman Catholic nun who had claimed to have been abused by a priest in 1831-32, and then fled, never to be heard from again. When Rice published the story in his Western Protestant in 1836, the priest sued him for libel. The trial was the sensation of the year in Kentucky. Two of Kentucky’s leading politicians, United States Senator John J. Crittenden and Lieutenant Governor Charles A. Wickliffe, served as counsel for Rice, along with Nathaniel Wickliffe.[46] The priests did not deny that “the young woman had been in the nunnery; that she assigned, as a chief reason for leaving it, the licentious conduct of the priest; and that she had disappeared from the neighborhood,” but claimed that she was insane and had falsely accused him.[47] Since the only witness was Milly McPherson, and all attempts to find her could only show that some woman by that name had briefly taught school in Indiana, the judge ordered that Rice had to be found guilty, since he could not substantiate his claims. The jury returned the verdict, but fined Rice only one cent, suggesting that they were not convinced of his guilt. For the next 25 years Rice used this story to suggest that McPherson had met some evil end. And for many years, when Old School Presbyterians (especially in the West) debated Roman Catholics, a common question was “what became of Milly McPherson?”[48]

Not surprisingly, R. J. Breckinridge also was sued for libel. What is surprising is how long it took. After five years of his regular attacks on the Roman Catholic community in Baltimore (including a suggestion of foul play in May of 1835, when screams for help were heard from the Carmelite convent in Baltimore, and Breckinridge assumed that it was a sexual assault on a nun[49]), he finally crossed the line when he accused the keeper of the city alms house, one Mr. James L. Maguire, of holding a man captive against his will at the order of Roman Catholic priests, when the man indicated that he wanted to learn about Protestantism.

When he learned of the lawsuit, Breckinridge was delighted. “Our purpose in the beginning was to expose the anti-christian, anti-social, anti-republican doctrines--and the corrupt and abominable practices of the papacy,” and now finally he would get his day in court.[50] His entire magazine for May and June of 1840 was devoted to an account of the trial. Senator John J. Crittenden of Kentucky (who had defended Rice four years earlier) now came to Baltimore to help his old friend,[51] along with William Schley, a local Baltimore lawyer. Senator William C. Preston of South Carolina (Breckinridge’s brother-in-law) provided informal counsel as well.[52] The trial was the sensation of 1840 throughout the country. A hung jury resulted in Breckinridge’s acquittal, which prompted William C. Brownlee to congratulate him for dealing such a serious blow to “the Beast.”[53]

Not all Old School Presbyterians, however, appreciated Breckinridge’s tactics. When Breckinridge visited New York City, William W. Phillips and Gardiner Spring (pastors of First and Brick Presbyterian churches, the two most prestigious Presbyterian congregations in the city) refused to let him preach from their pulpits, and James Lenox, ruling elder of First Church (and one of the leading contributors to Princeton Seminary), was said by Brownlee to “oppose our movements against Popery.”[54]

Even close to home, Breckinridge found opposition. Samuel Annan, a physician at the alms house, and an elder at the Third Presbyterian Church of Baltimore (he had left Second Church shortly after Breckinridge arrived), had testified in court that Breckinridge had misconstrued the whole affair. Breckinridge replied with a savage attack in his magazine. After dragging Annan’s character through the mud in an open letter, Breckinridge concluded, “May the Lord Jehovah judge between us, even as he has judged between me and all who have heretofore hated and pursued me for his sake. Yours, in sincere pity, Robert J. Breckinridge.”[55] When Annan defended his conduct in a pamphlet, Breckinridge replied that it was astounding that “he is still a public officer of the Alms House, and as yet is allowed to degrade the name of Ruling Elder in the Presbyterian church.”[56]

D. The Rise of the Protestant Associations

While Protestants in general, and Presbyterians in particular, had always opposed the spread of the doctrines and practices of Rome, the level of that opposition fluctuated in proportion to their sense of the immediacy of the “romish threat.” And in the late 1830s and early 1840s, Presbyterians were increasingly alarmed at the influx of Roman Catholics.[57] A Protestant Association was formed in Baltimore early in 1835 with Old School ministers R. J. Breckinridge and G. W. Musgrave, licentiate A. B. Cross (RJB’s co-editor), and ruling elders John N. Brown, and J. Harmon Brown among those calling the meeting. While Methodists were chosen as president and secretary of the first meeting; Breckinridge was selected as corresponding secretary, the only permanent officer of the Association.[58] After that group disbanded, Breckinridge helped found “The Society of the Friends of the Reformation” in 1843, together with the Evangelical Lutherans, Methodists, Baptists, Episcopalians and German Reformed in Baltimore.

That same year saw the formation of the American Protestant Association in Philadelphia. Old School Presbyterians were at the fore: C. C. Cuyler was chairman of the initial meeting, while Henry A. Boardman served as corresponding secretary. Lay directors from the Old School included Samuel Agnew and Joseph A. Davidson. The initial statement of the association warned that the spread of Romanism in England, Scotland and America suggested that there was a conspiracy at work. Since most Roman Catholic clergy were foreigners, “bound by their oath of office to ‘defend and keep the Roman Papacy and the royalties of St. Peter, against all men,’” they could not be faithful American citizens. “We see them boasting that they hold the balance of political power. . . a party governed by a foreign head, guided by priests the greater part of whom are not naturalized citizens, and impelled by sympathies at war with our republican institutions.” With the Leopold Foundation in Austria, “under the patronage of Prince Metternich, a prime friend of despotism and Popery, for the purpose of propagating Romanism in this country,” and the well-publicized attempts to plant “large colonies of Papists in our Western States,” it seemed clear to them that Rome was trying to take over the Mississippi Valley, and eventually the United States.[59] In support of their claims that Roman Catholicism was a threat to American liberties, they quoted from the “Encyclical Letter of August 15^th, 1832,” of Gregory XVI (the reigning pope) regarding republicanism:

Since Gregory had also condemned “that worst and never sufficiently to be execrated and detested liberty of the press,” and “the zeal of some to separate the church from the state, and to burst the bond which unties the priesthood to the Empire,” the American Protestant Association believed that they had good reason to be concerned about the massive immigration that now threatened to change the shape of the United States. Therefore they promised that they would oppose Romanism by the dissemination of the truth. They insisted that they would not interfere with the religious aspects of Romanism, but would rather defend the civil and religious liberty of the United States.[60] While the American Protestant Association was a nativist organization in one sense, it was a theological brand of nativism that objected to Rome’s particular definition of the church.

Most Old School newspapers hailed this organization as a timely step in combating Roman Catholic “aggression.”[61] Breckinridge, on the other hand, wondered why it took them so long to see the danger and scorned their lack of battle “scars.” Still he rejoiced in this new interdenominational effort, proclaiming: “Look to your ways, ye vassals of Rome. Look to your ways, ye Jesuits; haters of liberty, of truth, and of righteousness. For verily, it is no longer a solitary man who stands forth to defy and to resist you.” Breckinridge believed that “the great revival of the spirit of the Reformation” throughout the world would be God’s instrument in bringing about the “predestinated ruin” of the Roman Catholic “Antichrist.”[62]

E. The Explosion of Anti-Catholic Periodicals, 1844-45

As Irish immigration increased dramatically in 1844-45, anti-catholic measures increased as well. In the fourteen months between January of 1844 and February of 1845, no less than five anti-catholic periodicals were started by Old School Presbyterians in the south and west–in some cases in conjunction with ministers from other denominations.[63]

Figure 3.1. Anti-Catholic Newspapers Started by Old School Editors in 1844-1845

Date Title Place Old School Editors

1844 Herald of Religious Liberty St. Louis, Missouri Hiram Chamberlain

1844 True Catholic Louisville, Kentucky William L. Breckinridge & Edward P. Humphrey

1844 New Orleans Protestant New Orleans, LA J. B. Warren & Session, 1^st Pbn Ch New Orleans

1844 Jackson Protestant Jackson, Tennessee A. A. Campbell

1845 Western Protestant Cincinnati, Ohio Nathan Lewis Rice

Neither the Jackson Protestant nor the Western Protestant survived a year of publication, as Campbell’s death ended his enterprise, and Rice merged his paper with the True Catholic after nine months, assuming a portion of the editorial responsibility for the joint paper. The other three originally attempted to engage some assistance from ministers of other denominations, but only the True Catholic (1844-1847) was able to sustain the effort as an interdenominational Protestant paper. The Herald of Religious Liberty and the New Orleans Protestant gradually became denominational papers, and were renamed the St. Louis Presbyterian (ca. 1849) and the New Orleans Presbyterian (1847) respectively.[64]

The True Catholic was first issued at Louisville on May 1, 1844, as a bi-monthly “devoted to the exposure of popery, and the spread of religion, liberty and knowledge.”[65] Its editors, drawn from the Old School Presbyterian, Methodist Episcopal, and Baptist churches declared that “the West is to be the arena, where the great principles of civil and religious liberty are to be asserted, against their haughty and imperious foe.” Because they attribute salvation to “the grace of God, justifying the sinner through faith in His Son,” and accept “the rule of faith and life” as the scriptures alone, “the evangelical churches are, in truth, the exponents of the Catholic or universal faith. . . . He who maintains these principles as they are taught in the word of God, and whose heart and life are in conformity thereto, is a True Catholic.”

The editors wanted to be fair to Rome. Therefore they decided to avoid reprinting much of the Protestant literature about Rome, but tried to rely on the official statements of the Roman Church. They hoped that by revealing the official teaching of Rome, they would demonstrate that they were not the enemies of Roman Catholics, but their best friends, revealing “the monstrous system by which they are enslaved.”[66] In doing so they sought to imitate, or even improve upon such periodicals as R. J. Breckinridge’s now defunct Baltimore Literary and Religious Magazine (which, perhaps, is not surprising, since his younger brother, William, was one of the True Catholic’s editors).[67]

Besides historical documents, the True Catholic regularly engaged in sparring with Roman Catholic periodicals in the region. When the Catholic Advocate and the Catholic Herald argued that the United States had no religion, and therefore “ought to have no religious functionaries,” such as chaplains, the True Catholic replied that the United States was in fact a Protestant country. The Continental Congress in 1774 had complained about Roman Catholic power in Canada, fearing that they “might become formidable to us, and on occasion, be fit instruments in the hands of power to reduce these ancient, free, Protestant colonies to the same state of slavery with themselves.” Citing several other decisions of congress from the 1780s, the editors declared, “We are not a nation without a religion. . . . However hard it may be, Papists will have to learn that this is still a Protestant country.”[68]

In January of 1845, the True Catholic reported the resolutions of the Maysville Protestant Association. The Reverend Robert C. Grundy (PTS 1835, Old School pastor at Maysville, and corresponding secretary of the society) had presented five resolutions declaring that the United States was a Protestant country, but that the same privileges should be extended to Roman Catholics“which are enjoyed by other citizens and are guaranteed to every religious sect and denomination by the American Constitution, so far as they are willing, in common with all Protestants, to renounce all allegiance to any foreign power and unite with us in promoting and perpetuating our free institutions.”[69]

When the Catholic Advocate of March 1 objected to these resolutions (since they implied that if Roman Catholics did not renounce the pope, they should not be tolerated), appealing to the Constitutions of the United States and of Kentucky regarding religious liberty, Grundy replied by appealing to the papal encyclical of August 15, 1832, where the pope had spoken against those who wish “to separate the Church from the State, and to burst the bond which unites the Priesthood to the Empire. For it is clear that this union is dreaded by the profane lovers of liberty, only because it has never failed to confer prosperity on both.” Grundy wondered that any honest Roman Catholic could

Grundy admitted that he had many Roman Catholic friends who would fight and die for their American liberties, but insisted that they did so contrary to the plain teaching of the Roman Church. Since Pope Gregory XVI had declared in his encyclical that liberty of conscience was an “absurd” and “raving” doctrine, Grundy professed to be utterly unable to understand how the Catholic Advocate could reconcile its loyalty to Rome with the United States Constitution.[70]

F. Religious Riots and the Rise of the Know-Nothings

The constant fuel of anti-Catholic periodicals merely fed the fires of religious and ethnic mistrust which exploded in the mid-1840s in religious riots in Philadelphia, Cincinnati, and other cities.[71] While political issues were plainly at work as well, contemporary accounts often emphasized the religious division of the rioters.[72]

On May 3, 1844, the Kensington district of Philadelphia erupted in violence. A meeting of the Native American party was assailed by a Roman Catholic mob, which resulted in a week of rioting, during which several people were killed. Tensions remained high in Philadelphia, and July 4^th celebrations touched off another wave of riots.[73] The grand jury (which consisted largely of Protestants) determined that “the efforts of a portion of the community to exclude the Bible from our Public Schools” had given rise to a new party (the Native American, or Know-Nothing party) which held peaceful public meetings. They had been fired upon by “a band of lawless, irresponsible men, some of whom had resided in our country only for a short period,” which resulted in immediate retaliation, escalating into several weeks of mob rioting in the city.[74] Nonetheless, while asserting that the original fault lay with the Roman Catholics, the Presbyterian press quickly denounced Protestant rioting as well. The True Catholic insisted that no matter how offensive the discussion may be, “every true American” should defend the right of free deliberation. Reason, not force, is the power of the nation. Therefore, when it became clear that the Native Americans were continuing the rioting in Philadelphia, the editors soundly condemned it, and urged the magistrates to deal swiftly with them.[75] The Presbyterian of the West described the continued rioting as a “disgrace to Protestantism.”[76]

But when Bishop Hughes of New York claimed that it was his restraining influence in New York that prevented Irish Catholics from erupting like those in Philadelphia, the True Catholic responded with alarm: “A word from you, then, or even the withholding a word, might have wrapped our dwellings in flames, and deluged our streets with blood.” If Hughes had the power to restrain or command the thousands of Irish Catholics in New York, “then I say, sir, we have reason to be alarmed both at the increased power and numbers of romish foreigners, and the growing influence of Romish priests.”[77]

Ten years later, after the First Plenary Council of American Catholic Bishops met in Baltimore in 1852, declaring the common schools “irreligious” and calling for a parochial school system, the fires of religious hatred were unleashed once again. When Roman Catholic bishops requested state funds for their schools, religious riots broke out in St. Louis and Newark in 1854, and in 1855 Louisville and Cincinnati were engulfed in violence.[78] While historians initially attempted to downplay the religious aspect to these riots, Tyler Anbinder has acknowledged the place of religion in the formation of the Know-Nothings.[79] Contemporary observers, such as William Engles, suggested that religion and race were equally involved. Engles spoke from the perspective of an Old School Presbyterian church that was divided politically. If a group as large as the Roman Catholic population attempted to vote as a bloc, they could soon hold “the balance of power” in the United States. No matter how much he might deplore the violence, Engles was convinced that Protestants would not stand for this, but would “drive them from their usurped and arrogant position; nor need it be wondered at, that in the heat evolved from the combination of excitable political and religious elements, violence should sometimes ensue, however much to be deprecated.”[80] Nathan Rice, though, was concerned that “in a number of instances highly respectable Americans have countenanced or participated” in the riots.[81] Protestant violence was inconsistent with his idealized vision of what Protestantism should be.

The Presbyterian Herald reported religious riots surrounding the election of 1855 in Louisville. William Hill reported that the riot between the Democrats and the Know-Nothings had resulted in the murder of 14-15 citizens, the wounding of 30 others and the destruction of 15-20 houses, “most of them of but little value, being generally Irish shanties.”[82] But once again the riots followed on Protestant/Catholic lines. Indeed the Pittsburg Catholic accused various Protestant newspapers of fomenting the riots through their anti-Catholic articles: “the sectarian press. . . in the hands of designing parsons, who are bursting with rage at the diffusion of the Catholic faith, becomes specially virulent on the eve of any scene of excitement, political or religious.” William Hill replied that “The readers of Protestant religious papers are not generally found among mobs of riotous men.” Pointing to genuine “acts of kindness and love” by which Louisville Presbyterians had fed and clothed Roman Catholics devastated by the riots, Hill argued that his readership desired to convert Roman Catholics through persuasion and love, not violence.[83] When the Pittsburg Catholic claimed that the Presbyterian Herald was merely the tool of the Louisville Know-Nothings, Hill pointed out that the rhetoric went both ways. The editor of the Pittsburg Catholic had written that Protestants were “damnable heretics” whose views led inexorably to “licentiousness in both church and state.” If that was true, Hill asked,