Franz Wendelin Pfanner 200 Years
Early Years
1928 – 1846
We are fortunate in having both handwritten (1888) and dictated (1908) Memoirs by Francis Wendelin Pfanner. They and many of his letters and occasional talks paint a picture of his early history. Other details we owe to his schoolmates.
Wendelin was born a twin on 20 (not 21) September 1825, at Bremenhub 91 in Langen, near Bregenz (Vorarlberg, Austria) as the 3rd child of Franz Anton Pfanner (1794-1856) and Anna Maria née Fink (1800-1828). He was baptized at St. Sebastian’s (Langen) and named after a paternal uncle, a priest. A slightly older sister was called Crescentia.
The boy was not granted a sunny childhood. When his mother gave birth to another girl a year after Franz Anton (Toni, 1827) had been born, not only did little Anna Maria die, but 17 days later the young mother died as well. The father threw himself into his work and left his 4 children to the care of a younger sister of his. Unfortunately, she could not handle children and quickly used physical discipline. Wendel did not like her.
After 6 years, the father (40) married 26-year-old Anna Maria Hörbuger from Sulzberg. Using her dowry, he paid off his debts and with diligence, thrift and prudence, was able to buy a neighboring farm, build a sawmill and sell timber and charcoal. He was so successful that he bought breeding bulls in the nearby Allgäu and sold them again as far as Italy. Wendelin knew his father almost only as a non-stop worker.
There were 7 children from the 2nd marriage; 2 died in childhood and a daughter at the age of 13 (1854). Altogether, Wendelin had 2 brothers, Johann and Toni, 2 half-brothers, Franz Xaver and Joseph, 1 sister (Crescentia) and 2 half-sisters. Catherine was married to Dr. Riedmann, a veterinarian in Alberschwende. She and nephew Anton supported Wendelin’s work throughout his life.
The stepmother took the freckled red-haired Wendelin to heart. She made the best omelettes, clapped for him when he defeated both brothers in the “Hosenlupf” – a wrestling match in which one contestant pulled the other up by his pants, put him down and did not let go of him until he pleaded for mercy – and willingly mended the pants he tore. No challenger was too big for Wendelin. When once the village grocer’s stocky son teased him in the church square on account of his red hair, he held him down so mercilessly that bystanders feared: “That little imp won’t eat him up, will he?” (Unless otherwise stated, all quotes are taken from the Memoirs of Abbot Francis).
Wendelin could be brash. When the woman (Stasl) who led the Rosary at a wake kept adding one Our Father after another for various intentions, he interjected: “And now, one Our Father for Stasl!” That was the end of the wake. No one took him to task, not even his mother. But in his old age, Abbot Francis remembered the incident and wrote that it would have been better if his mother had given him a beating to correct him, because “later on my fearlessness and daringness sometimes turned into impudence.” He had to struggle with it his whole life.
Wendelin stubbornly pursued his goal, no matter what the cost. At the age of 13, he milked 10 cows twice a day “as quickly as any of the hired hands,” just to get the fur cap he longed for. Even as a youngster he displayed that unyielding determination which was not only to help him face difficult situations but also made it difficult for others to get along with him. “It is a trait that I inherited from my dad,” he wrote, “it was ingrained in me. … Just nodding your head doesn’t get you very far and certainly not to the bottom of a matter.”
The parents set an example of piety and good manners. The children knew their catechism and were well prepared for their First Holy Communion and Confirmation. After elementary school, Mr. Pfanner decided on the future path for his sons. Twin Johann who had the stronger muscles had to take over the farm. “And you,” he turned to Wendelin, “you study!” That suited the gifted boy. In preparation for his admission to Feldkirch Secondary School (1838), a neighboring priest tutored him in Latin and his priest uncle signed as guardian. Leaving him to the care of the rector, his father said to him: “‘Pray hard and study well, Wendel.’ Then he pressed 20 pennies into my hand and said: ‘Be sure to save!’”
Studying was easy for the bright lad. He got the best grades, excelled in mathematics and physics, and had what it takes to be an engineer. His uncle persuaded his father to let him enroll with the Jesuits in Innsbruck (1843), the university where Wendelin’s character emerged. A much-appreciated friend, he was usually cheerful, but also serious and conscientious. He attended Mass every morning and recommended himself to all the saints. “Oh, you saints of God” is the prayer ascribed to him as a student. Innsbruck left its mark on him, but when at age 38 he wondered which religious order he should join, he chose the Trappists, not the Jesuits: “I would rather die working than study to death.” His father was his role model: “How often have I thanked my late father for urging me to work so hard and also teaching me how to work profitably.”
“Ora et labora” and plenty of exercise in the fresh mountain air, that was the secret of the long eventful life of Francis Wendelin Pfanner. Next to wrestling he loved mountain climbing. “Every height challenges me!” he admitted. Once he and his comrades were caught in a snowstorm high up in the mountains. It was already getting dark and visibility so poor that they had nothing but a narrow waterfall for bearings. “But the half-blind Faist was shaking all over with fear. So, what were we to do with him? I simply grabbed him and with him under my arm like a sheaf of wheat I groped my way down the slippery bank.” A comrade added: “Yes, Pfanner had muscles like steel.”
After his First Year of Philosophy, Wendelin and three fellow students wanted to continue their studies in Padua. They were ready to travel (November 1845), but he had neither permission, a traveling pass, nor money. However, “quick as lightning,” as was his way, he found a solution. He borrowed money from a man who came from Langen but worked in Innsbruck and did business with his father, gave him a short letter for his father, checked in his luggage and marched out of the gate with the others. The journey nearly cost him his last penny. What should he do? He cunningly wrote to his priest uncle for help, but in such a way as to create the impression that he had already sent him a previous letter with all the news. The unsuspecting uncle regretted the loss of the “certainly very interesting descriptions,” congratulated his protegee and appeased the father.
Padua badly disillusioned the four adventurers. Though city and country had their charm, life at the university was disappointing. Most students were upper-class society and just wasted away their time. Wendelin was disgusted. They could not engage anyone in a proper conversation and worse, there were no mountains. So, they took their exams early and returned home just under a year but richer in experience. In Padua, Wendelin dropped engineering – even though he was still fascinated by everything technical – and decided to become a priest.
At home, he got off lightly. His father listened to his stories with undisguised admiration, but after 3 days he handed him a pitchfork, and Wendelin worked hard to show himself grateful, until on September 29th (1846), he entered the seminary at Brixen. After all, “my father had always hoped that his Wendel would one day become a priest.”
