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 52 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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the country to a church in some village or merely for exercise. It was unknown that some free American resented the insult in a way that the insulter was wiser and a sadder man.

          On one occasion I made a visit to Versallies and listened to the debates in French Oarkuanebt. Mr. Leboulays, who was a great admirer of America, sent me a ticket on request, but I was not greatly impressed with the dignity of the proceedings.
    
          It was the Chamber of Deputies, and one did not expect the same dignity found in the Senate, cut when half a dozen members were trying to speak at the same time, and a dozen running about shouting and shaking their fists at one another, and the presiding officer continually ringing his bell for order, it was hard to convince one self that this was a body of men chosen to make the laws for forty millions of people.

          Many reminders of the war were visible around us, the walls of Paris were battered and broken, the forest around the city were masses of ruins ( all the portraits of Mont Valerien, which even the German guns were not able to reduce) the marks of cannonballs are to be seen on many of the large buildings, and the Commune left souvenirs in the blackened walls of the Tuileries and the ruins of the Hotel de Ville, and the wonderful monument to the memory of Napoleon's victories lay a broken mass on the Place Vendome. In the spirit of the people was the thought of revenge. “Wait”, they would say, “Our time will come someday you will see what we will do to the Germans.” It was a humiliating thought that the German Empire had been proclaimed in the Royal Palace of Versailles, and only a French army dictating the conditions of a future peace would satisfy for the present defeat. 

          Everybody seemed to take some interest in politics: yet we saw but few papers, and then mostly the Semaine Religause of some particular diocese. Of American affairs I knew almost nothing unless something might come to me in a letter. On rare occasions I might go into Paris and get a copy of Galigani’s Messenger, the only English paper I knew of in Paris, but this did not occur often enough to keep me up with the current events.

          Now that I was in the old world a thought came to me: I might get an opportunity to visit the land of my forefathers. I knew the address of one of my father's sisters, and nun in work, so I wrote to her telling her of my present occupation and future hopes. Not long afterwards I was surprised at receiving a visit from two young students from the Irish College in Paris. They gave their names as John Browne and Patrick Ryan, and their home as Enniscorthy, Ireland.This was the hometown of my father, and Mr. Browne said he was a relative of mine, our fathers being cousins. The good Sister Bridget, to whom I had written, lost no time in telling the news to the others who sent it on toM. Browne in Paris. It made me feel good to find that I was not absolutely alone in a foreign land, and fix my determination on visiting Ireland. We exchanged visits or notes from time to time and matured our plans for some of our vacations. Another piece of good news came to me also that winter, and that was that my youngest sister had entered the convent of the Sisters of Loretto in Kentucky. I had been the first boy to leave Denver for the seminary, and now my sister had entered the convent and was the first girl to go from there to a convent. 
 

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