Known as the horseback “Cavalry of Christ” to Mexican ranchers along Texas’ lower Rio Grande Valley, the Oblate Fathers arrived in 1849 to serve as Texas missionaries. The padres, young men from large cities in France, wore plain black soutanes resembling ankle-length, long-sleeved dresses with an Oblate cross hung around their necks. Experiencing a steep learning curve mastering Spanish and English, the city boys faced the added challenge of horseback- and burro-riding over 100- to 150-mile circuits along dusty, mesquite-choked trails to ranches scattered along the Mexican border.
The U.S.-Mexican War ended the year before the Oblates arrived throwing the new arrivals into a tumultuous period of cattle rustling and general lawlessness, civil wars in the U.S. and Mexico, as well as disasters like yellow fever and periodic hurricanes. Despite the hardships, residents along both sides of the river loved their French padres, especially Father Pierre Yves Keralum, known to the Mexican people as Santo Padre Pedito for his humility, his obedience, and his kindness. He’s also remembered for the mystery surrounding his death.
Father Keralum an architect and master builder combined preaching, baptizing, and marrying people with designing and constructing Gothic Revival style churches all along the Rio Grande. Assigned in 1854 to Roma, a new mission center covering a large area upriver about half way between Brownsville and Laredo, Father Keralum completed the design and construction of Our Lady of Refuge Church.
When an Oblate superior drowned at sea after starting the design of the massive church at Brownsville, the Oblates called on Father Keralum who modified the plans and completed in 1859 Brownsville’s massive Immaculate Conception Church (designated a Cathedral, 1874) with its beautiful vaulted ceiling. In 1960, fire and smoke damaged the Keralum designed hand-polished mesquite alter and pulpit and some of the chandeliers. He also designed the nuns’ convent, priests’ house, and college building.
Along the Rio Grande many tiny chapels survive on former ranches and at midway mission stations where the Oblates stayed during their long circuit rides. One of the mission centers, La Lomita, sits on a ranch the Oblates inherited from René Guyard, a fellow Frenchman. Located between Brownsville and Roma, the La Lomita mission served about sixty-five area ranches. Today, the reconstructed chapel survives and the town of Mission, a citrus-growing center known as the “tourist mecca of South Texas” occupies much of the original ranch.
Overlooking San Agustín Plaza, where Laredo began in 1755, the cathedral of San Agustín was rebuilt in 1872 with Father Keralum probably assisting Diocesan priests with the construction.
After twenty years of traveling at least three times annually on horseback, visiting seventy to 120 widely scattered ranches along the Gulf coast and interior, Father Keralum at age fifty-five was frail and nearly blind. On November 9, 1872, despite misgivings of his fellow Oblates, he mounted his horse and rode away from Brownsville. He stopped about forty miles away at a ranch northwest of present Mercedes before he disappeared. His horse was found contentedly grazing. For a time people suspected murder. Over ten years later in 1882, some cowhands found his remains identified by his Oblate belongings. Perhaps he followed a cattle trail by mistake, became entangled in a thicket, and dismounted to rest. Speculation suggests a rattlesnake bit him or he simply became lost and died of weariness and starvation.
His legacy survived in the lives of those he touched and in the handsome churches that dot the landscape of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.’
Loved the pictures that accompanied your post Myra! And another great post. Have an awesome weekend!
Thanks, Christine for being such a faithful reader.
How nice to know about the padre responsible for these lovely churches.
I loved telling his story. Thanks for continuing to read.
Myra, of course I loved the post, it’s just that I can’t help thinking about that ol’ padre sitting to rest on a rock and his heart giving out,or perhaps as you say, a serpent was waiting under that rock. I wonder what his last thoughts were. Lovely pictures to the heritage he left.
It is such a sad end for a modest man who created such lovely structures.
This is a great read into our South Texas heritage. You might want to see the following post and video about the San Roque Church in La Grulla, Texas. http://www.wearecousins.info/2011/10/la-grulla-texas-san-roque-catholic.html
Hi Cousin, Thanks for the heads up on San Roque Church. I’ll check it out.
Thank you for another great ‘yarn’ about this vast state with so many tales yet to be told…..by Myra! Building such grand structures in times without modern ‘must have to do it’ tools always amazes me.
And getting to the locales on horseback added to the feat. Tough people lived before our time.
I have heard, over the years, some pretty hair-raising stories about the various Orders who found their way through Texas and managed to settle here and survive.
What I love, though, about your version of Sante Padre Pedito is the way you contrast the history of his story with the architectural legacy he left for the Rio Grande Valley.
Thank you for yet another ripping yarn about Texas! Sending you good thoughts, MM! You have a natural storyteller’s knack for capturing your readers’ imaginations!
Thank you, thank you, Courtenay, for continuing to read and comment. Warms my heart each time I hear from you.
The pleasure is all mine! I really relish the stories you tell— so much! I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the legacies of the all of the orders of nuns who managed to survive, and thrive in Texas. (But how?) Your story about Sante Padre Pedito— which is so beautifully done— has really whet my appetite for more! (I wish you could see me smiling right now! So happy!)
You have to admire those men and all that they accomplished. You always tell the story well; no extra fluff. And I always enjoy reading what you write.
Thank you for continuing to read. Yes, those padres were amazing men.
Your story makes me hope he died in peace.
I hope he was knocked out and didn’t have to slowly starve to death. But, from what I’ve read of his lifestyle of self-denial, he may have willingly given himself up to whatever happened. I’m not there myself and not sure I can identify even a little with that kind of acceptance.