Tuesday, 10 July 2012

Cardinal Henry Manning and the temperance movement -- The second Archbishop of Westminster's great zeal for souls

Cardinal Manning by George Frederic Watts
National Portrait Gallery, London.
In the public domain (source: Wikimedia Commons)
In January, I attempted to write a short biography of Cardinal Henry Edward Manning, the second Archbishop of Westminster, and possibly one of the holiest men to have ever led the Catholic Church in England. At the end of that post, I mentioned the possibility of writing further reflections on this great man, concentrating specifically on his contribution to: a) education and the welfare of children; b) the social teaching of the universal Church and the rights of workers; and c) the temperance movement, which sought to save not only men and women addicted to alcohol, but also western civilisation itself. Well, it’s now seven months since I first wrote that biography, so I thought I would honour (at last!) my informal commitment to introduce further aspects of Cardinal Manning’s life to a wider audience.

Today’s post will concentrate on Manning’s remarkable work promoting the temperance and total abstinence movement in nineteenth century England. When we think of ‘bands of hope’ and other such teetotal societies, we often falsely assume that these ventures where wholly the preserve of Protestant denominations and sects, such as the Salvation Army. In Victorian London, though, under the guidance of Henry Manning, it was the Catholic community that led the way in promoting the teetotal ideal - helping chronic alcoholics to reform and supporting those hurt by the drunkenness of loved ones, which often resulted in societal problems such as crime, family breakdown, homelessness, violence, unemployment, and the like.

It amazes me how forgotten Manning has become. His ideas have shaped the Church in ways that surpass even the greatest of our ecclesial doctors and saints, yet hardly anyone takes any account of him. As I mentioned in my previous post, both Bl Pope Pius IX and Pope Leo XIII (why hasn't he been canonised!?) admired and trusted Henry Manning, so much so that they, in turn, hurried his clerical advancement and listened to his advice. When Leo XIII published Rerum Novarum in 1891, which is an encyclical that seems to have opened up a new and essential chapter in the Church’s social doctrine and theology, it was widely known that the document was practically written by Manning himself. As the then Bishop John Hedley OSB of Newport and Menevia declared, with typical English reserve, Rerum Novarum "owe[d] something to the counsels of Cardinal Manning."

Henry Manning’s concern for the welfare of the poor, the little brethren of Christ, began during his days as an Anglican and continued throughout his life. His support for the London dock-workers when they went on strike in 1889 earned Manning the respect of the city’s underpaid labourers. It was for this reason that Cardinal Manning’s funeral was the most well attended in Victorian England – all the ordinary people, the poor, the dispossessed, came out to bid him farewell. But, as Archbishop of Westminster, Manning’s first important social reform crusade was aimed against the evils of drunkenness. He knew that the poverty suffered by so many of his flock was often the result of addiction, especially to alcohol and other intoxicating substances. By challenging drunkenness, Manning sought to help people, and especially lapsed Catholics, to live life and live it to the full (cf Jn 10:10).

Soon after being ordained a Catholic priest, Henry Manning ministered in Bayswater, London. It was a relatively poor area at the time, and he immediately began seeking solutions to the poverty suffered by so many of his parishioners – improving the means for his people to help themselves, usually through social clubs, education, and the promotion of work and industry. But Bayswater was nothing compared to that part of London now known as central Westminster, which he moved to upon becoming the Archbishop of Westminster in 1865.

Cardinal Manning's House - now housing offices
(source: Cardinal Henry Edward Manning Facebook page)
Directly to the south of his house (which was next to a prison for women and children, the site of which Manning bought and where Westminster Cathedral now stands) was a vast and criminally charged area, which Charles Dickens once referred to as ‘the Devil’s acre’. Manning, wanting to get to know his new neighbourhood, took it upon himself to visit, with one of his priests, the labyrinthine nest of hovels and holes that stretched from his own house down to the Thames and across to the Palace of Westminster. He was appalled by what he found, which was the suffering and poverty that burdened so many of his own children – for many of the poorest inhabitants of the area also happened to be Catholic, in name and baptism at least. 

Manning very quickly became convinced that one of the chief causes for lapses from faith, criminality, and poverty, seemed to be drunkenness and dependency on alcohol. After several months examining Victoria, Westminster and Pimlico, as well as other parts of his Diocese, Manning diagnosed the illness that had led to such painful symptoms for the poor – intoxication. Having come to see the problem, he now decided to find a cure for it.

Shortly after becoming Archbishop of Westminster, the future Cardinal Manning (he received the red hat in 1875) formed a committee to advise him on the best way to help those who were burdened by addiction to alcohol. This group immediately suggested that he adopt the solutions of the famous Irish preacher of abstinence, Father Theobald Mathew, who had recently died in Cork. This would involve the founding of a temperance society with rules and a spiritual way of life, as a means of helping those who wished to ‘take the pledge’ as well as a way of encouraging others to make reparation for the sins of intemperance. Before deciding on whether or not to adopt Father Mathew’s model, which allowed for partial abstinence as well as total abstinence, or to follow the counsel of the United Kingdom Alliance, a temperance movement that campaigned for total abstinence only, Manning decided to ‘test the waters’, so to speak.

The way the Archbishop sought to see how receptive his people would be to the idea of total and / or partial abstinence was ingenious. In 1867, Manning, aware that drunkenness seemed particularly common amongst the Irish members of his flock, especially during St Patrick’s Day, decided to urge all the Irishmen and women of London to give up alcohol for the eve, feast, and the day following the feast of St Patrick. He called this three day alcoholic abstinence the “Truce of St Patrick.” It was an enormous success! That year, the police reported that alehouses and law courts throughout London were practically empty for the whole period covering 16-18 March! 

One of the reasons Manning’s ‘truce’ was so well observed seems to be due to the fact that the Archbishop had obtained a special Indulgence from Pope Pius IX, which was granted to all Irishmen who met the usual conditions and also abstained from intoxicating drink during those three days. This Indulgence continued to be granted and sought well after Cardinal Manning’s death, and the Truce of St Patrick had become a very popular devotion by the turn of the twentieth century.

After further consultations with the United Kingdom Alliance and others, such as the newly founded Salvation Army, as well as further visits to the slums within his diocese, Henry Manning finally decided that total abstinence (as opposed to partial abstinence) should be promoted amongst Catholics, especially the poor and / or those given to drink. He soon published a Pastoral Letter encouraging abstinence from intoxicating liquor during Lent. Then, in 1872, he inaugurated his own total abstinence movement, called the League of the Cross, which borrowed heavily from the ideals of Father Mathew and the United Kingdom Alliance movement.

The League of the Cross was probably one of the most successful and positive social movements within the history of the Church in Britain. Not only did it have a dramatic effect on the lives of London’s poor (Catholics and non-Catholics alike), but it also helped the Church to gain a certain respectably which it had, until then, been denied – Protestants would sometimes look down on Catholics, whom they thought were too enamoured by the luxuries of this world. Within two years, 28,000 people had taken the pledge and joined Manning’s League, and within 20 years there were nearly 50 chapters of the League within the Diocese of Westminster alone. In fact, by the end of Cardinal Manning’s life, intemperance amongst the Catholic clergy, which had once been a grave scandal to many, had become a thing of the past! (cf The Exiles of Erin: Irish Migrants in Victorian London by Lynn Hollen Lees, Manchester University Press 1979, p 211)

Henry Manning became utterly devoted to the work of his League, so much so that some of his enemies, especially during the early days, accused him of Jansenism. Surely, Catholics are supposed to be given to the joys of the world and the flesh, aren’t they? No, said Manning, he saw total abstinence, for a few at least, as something necessary for the work of salvation and sanctification. Had not St Paul warned the Corinthians that ‘drunkards’ would not inherit the Kingdom of Heaven (cf 1 Cor 6:10)? Yet, accusations that Manning’s theology was becoming Jansenist continued, and Rome eventually had to intervene. He was required to send a report of his activities to the Holy See. After careful consideration of the facts, the reply came back from Rome: “in the Lord’s name, continue the work!” (cf “Cardinal Manning and his Social Work” by Rev A B Swift, Westminster Cathedral Chronicle, 1952 bound edition, p 22). Manning, though, confided to a friend that he understood the opposition to his work in this field, but that he was more than content to be a ‘fool for Christ’s sake’ when it came to the matter of temperance and total abstinence.   

The Crystal Palace in 1854 by Philip Henry Delamotte
In the public domain
(source: Wikimedia Commons)
Support from the Pope helped Manning’s campaign against drunkenness. By the time he was created Cardinal in 1875, the second Archbishop of Westminster had enrolled thousands into his League and had addressed countless numbers of Londoners at annual open air meetings in Clerkenwell Green, London Fields, Tower Hill, and Trafalgar Square. His kind manner, his ascetic appearance, and his charismatic preaching, caused scenes of great enthusiasm - which were often reported with excitement by the press. 

It must have been quite an extraordinary thing to have witnessed one of Manning’s total abstinence addresses, to hear only one of the “innumerable speeches delivered by him in crowded halls or standing bareheaded on a van or costermonger’s cart surrounded by a dense and, always friendly, crowd.” (ibid, p 22). Edmund Sheridan Purcell recorded Manning’s style during these outdoor rallies, writing: “As a platform speaker he was never dull. The ringing applause gave him additional animation; he was put out by no interruption; irritated by no angry words; he had always a ready retort at hand, or a good-humoured suggestion.” (The Life of Cardinal Henry Manning, Archbishop of Westminster, Vol II, MacMillan & Co 1896, p 596.)

In a short biographical memo (cf ibid, p 594), Cardinal Manning wrote fondly of his League, which it seems was for him the crowning achievement of his reign as Archbishop of Westminster. He saw the venture as the least he could do as shepherd of souls and a man charged with the salvation of the people of London. But the League also developed into a kind of lay apostolate, or 'sect' even, of which he was the leader and chaplain – with the Bishop of Newport and Menevia (both men would spend their summer holidays preaching total abstinence all around the industrial cities of England: Manchester, Liverpool, Leeds, etc). 

The League, according to Manning's above mentioned note, even had “its four festivals”, which were: “St Patrick, Whit-Monday, [the annual] Procession to the Crystal Palace, and Father Mathew’s Birthday.” These unofficial holy days of the Catholic temperance movement were, said the great Cardinal, “like the four Solemnities of the Church” to him. In fact, for many Londoners, the various processions and rallies associated with the League of the Cross were their only real contact with the Church, often leading them into a deeper appreciation of the Catholic faith.

Mentioned above is the “Procession to the Crystal Palace”. It would be true to say that this annual event occupied an extremely special place in Cardinal Manning’s heart. He was devastated when old age and infirmity eventually conspired to stop him from attending this particular ‘festival’ of total abstinence. According to Father Swift (cf op cit, p 22), “Public attention was drawn by the Procession. Thousands of men, marshalled by their officers (the ‘Cardinal’s bodyguard’ as they were called, distinguished by the red sashes they wore) marched from the Thames Embankment to the Crystal Palace. The march past the Cardinal [when he was too ill to make the journey to the Crystal Palace] was always the cause of great enthusiasm for him, the sight of these vast numbers led by bands and carrying banners, must have been a great consolation. On no other occasion did the Crystal Palace ever see such enormous crowds as on this annual procession.” (Comments in parenthesis, mine)

Cardinal Manning, artist unknown, c 1880
(source: Cardinal Henry Edward Manning Facebook page)
Cardinal Manning himself took the pledge just before the official founding of the League in 1872, and against the advice of his doctors, who thought it prudent for the Archbishop to drink a little wine every day. He had wondered whether or not he should make this radical commitment to total abstinence, realising that he, like many people, could easily drink alcohol in moderation. But two things convinced him to take the pledge: the first being the fact that he did not want to ask others to do something that he himself seemed unwilling to do, and the second being an encounter he had with some workers in Southwark, who had themselves resolved to give up ‘the demon drink’. When asked by one of the workers whether he had taken the pledge, Manning said that he wanted to, but that his doctors would not allow him. On hearing this, one of the men cried out, “Never mind the doctors, come and see what good it has done us in our homes!” On hearing these words, Cardinal Manning never again touched strong drink. (cf Purcell, op cit, p 596).

One wonders how members of today’s Church would react to Cardinal Henry Manning’s crusade of abstinence? Would he choose to do battle with the demon drink were he alive nowadays, or are we more prone to other addictions – just as destructive and corrosive: sex, drugs, money, gambling? Manning knew that in his day, alcohol led men and women away from the Church, away from salvation. I am sure that, given the binge-drinking culture that exists in modern-day Britain, the case remains the same, even if there are also many other temptations and weeds choking society’s soul. 

Towards the end of his life, two anti-Catholic newspapers had been won over by Manning’s total abstinence crusade: The Times and the Standard (which had been opposed to him in all other matters!). Yet, for Cardinal Manning, his type of abstinence movement expressed his deeply rooted zeal for souls, rather than a purely socio-political ideal. He once wrote, reflecting on the work of the League of the Cross: “Every day tells me that I never did anything better for the saving of souls.” By encouraging so many people to give up a life dependent upon alcohol and drunkenness, Manning opened the doors of Heaven to a vast multitude now enjoying the beatific vision of God.  



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