Recollections of My Life and Reflections on Times and Events During It: A Memoir by Father W. J. Howlett Main Menu Introduction Table of Contents Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Other Writings by Father W. J. Howlett Timeline Howlett Family Tree William J. Howlett Family Tree Maps and Geography: Howlett's First Trip West Fr. Howlett moved with his family to Denver when he was a child, and then moved to St. Thomas Seminary in Bardstown, KY several years later. This map recounts the path he took to get to both places. Maps and Geography: Howlett's European travels Fr. Howlett traveled far and wide during his trip to Europe. Here is a map of the places he recorded visiting. Maps and Geography: Howlett in Paris, 1872-1873 This map shows the locations that Fr. Howlett mentioned visiting while in Paris, France. Maps and Geography: Howlett in London, 1874 This map shows the locations that Fr. Howlett mentioned visiting while vacationing in London, England Maps and Geography: Colorado Missions with Terrain Fr. Howlett's Colorado mission locations, with Colorado terrain. Index Acknowledgements Contributors' Biographies HIST 394 at CUA, Spring 2020

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          Just then I would have been better pleased if he had said nothing about France. My mind has been made up and all preparations finished for Cincinnati and it seemed like taking snap judgment on me. I could have refused the offer, and I was tempted to do so, for I was ignorant of French, and that would be a handicap. However, the Bishop offered to give me a year to familiarize myself with the language and continue the study of philosophy, so I left the decision to him, and he closed the argument by saying: “in the name of God then, go to France.”

          On Sunday evening, September 1, 1872, we left Denver and reached New York on Thursday evening. On Saturday morning we boarded the French steamer Ville de Paris bound for Havre, France. Apart from a few days of seasickness, the passage was uneventful. The feeling one experiences during the first voyage at Sea were mine, and these have so often been described that I may pass them over. The restless sea rolling mountains of water in upon us at times and at times as smooth as a mirror; the dolphins sporting in the distance and the smaller fish running with us like a crowd of urchins with the elephant at a circus parade;  the beautiful sunsets off forming the centerpiece of an incomparable evening landscape, as a Syrian prelate dominated it, the cooling breeze after the heat of the day, and the long evening on deck. Then the appetizing meals five times a day, and after my seasickness!  There was no mass during the ten days of the voyage, although two Syrian priests were in the company. A young student from New York was also a passenger on his way to the Seminary of Aix in the south of France.

          The steamer touched first at Brest on the French coast to let off some passengers. We did not dock, but simply lay to, and a tugboat came for the passengers, mail and whatever express matter was to be landed there. Havre was the destination of almost all, and from there we went on immediately by rail to Paris. One night Mr. Bourion and I spent in Paris at the Hotel Fenelon, and the next day we went to Issy-sur-Seine, a village just a short distance outside the walls of Paris, to the seminary where I was to spend my first year in foreign lands. 

          My remembrances of Issy  are Pleasant. Those who know the Sulpician. Fathers need not be reminded of their kindness and the fatherly interest they take in every one of their students, and the surroundings where ideal -- the cozy rooms, the spacious halls and chapel, the shrines of Our Lady of All Graces, and of Notre Dame de Lorete, where a replica of the Holy HOuse was made more our own by the tomb in its middle of Paul Seigneret, Issy’s own martyr of the Commune.

          Among the students were two from America and a dozen from England, Ireland, and Scotland, all answering the general designation Los Anglais, so called because we formed a foreign unit among a hundred Frenchman and all spoke the same language. If we were not so many Anglais it might have been better for us for we would have been forced to learn French more quickly and perfectly. It is not easy to listen in silence to a strange tongue when your own is being spoken near you, and we have the same tongue gathered together as much as we could. Once a week we took a long walk all together, sometimes going into the city to the Grand Seminary, or to visit some shrine, or we might roam through

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