An introduction to a research project based at Lund University, Christian Manliness, a Paradox of Modernity: Men and Religion in a Northern‐European Context, 1840 to 1940. The author presents some initial findings regarding constructions of manliness in Catholic missions in the Nordic countries.

In a letter from July 1884 to a fellow religious in Rome, the Barnabite Father Paolo Fumagalli stated the importance of demonstrating “la supériorité en tout du prêtre catholique sur le ministre protestant” through “le prestige de notre savoir,” the superiority of the Catholic priest and his knowledge. Fumagalli, who was working as a missionary in the small Swedish town of Gävle together with two other Italian Barnabites, was traveling in central Sweden, giving lectures on Catholic faith and culture. He describes missionary work as a trial of strength between Catholic and Protestant culture, and in his view, the clergy was the keeper of this culture. In his letter, he also draws a picture of the ideal Catholic priest, who he describes as a man of prayer, a moral example, and as a learned, cultivated and energetic preacher of the Catholic faith. These priests were needed to dispel Protestant prejudices against Catholicism and to pave the way for their conversion to the Catholic Church.1
     Fumagalli was one of many foreign Catholic priests working as a missionary in Scandinavia. The breakthrough of the Ultramontane movement from the 1830s onwards led to an upswing of Catholic missionary work across the world. Catholic ecclesiology of the time laid great emphasis on the Catholic Church’s claim to be the only true church. Consequently, non‐Catholic as well as non‐Christian countries were regarded as mission fields and fell under the authority of the Roman Congregation of Mission, Propaganda Fide (K. J. Rivinius, 1994, pp. 251‐265; J. Gadille & J.‐F. Zorn, 1997, pp. 133‐155, 162ff).2 Hence, Catholic missionary activities were also aimed at the Nordic countries where, protected by the liberal religious laws passed in this period, they could build up a network of parishes and missions with schools, hospitals, and other social institutions. But these Catholic missionary activities faced a strong opposition in Nordic society, and for many Northerners, Catholicism appeared as an outright menace to their own culture and national integrity (Y. M. Werner, 2005, pp. 143‐363).
     Up to the Second Vatican Council, regulated religious life was an integral part of the comprehensive Catholic ideology that appeared in opposition against, and as an alternative to, the liberal social and political order that developed during the nineteenth century. Catholicism thus developed into a counterculture with obvious anti‐modern traits. The religious were at the forefront of this Catholic system, and regulated religious

life was regarded as the most consummate expression of Catholic piety. It represented the Catholic counterculture in its most radical form, which explains why the harsh conflicts (Kulturkampf) between church and state that occurred in many countries at that time chiefly affected religious orders.3 In Protestant countries such as the Nordic, Catholicism appeared as a counterculture in a double sense. It not only represented an alternative worldview but also an unfamiliar belief system that many regarded as a threat to their Protestant‐influenced national culture. Catholic religious orders and congregations were considered as particularly dangerous (Werner, 2002; E.‐B. Nilsen, 2001).
     Most of the Catholic missionaries working in Scandinavia were women religious, belonging to different orders and congregations. The clergy consisted partly of secular priests, most of them trained at the Collegium Urbanum, the priest seminary of Propaganda Fide, and partly by members of male religious institutes. The leading women religious and almost all the priests continuously sent letters and reports to Propaganda Fide, respectively to their superiors or fellow religious. This correspondence deals foremost with the missionary work, but it also gives a good picture of missionary strategies, feelings and opinions, and thus, in the same way as Fumagalli’s letter quoted above, reflects ideals, visions and identities.4 I use this kind of correspondence to study the construction of manliness and male ideals within Nordic Catholicism between 1850 and 1940. My study is part of the interdisciplinary project Christian Manliness – a Paradox of Modernity, which by focusing on Northern European conditions, intends to illuminate the link between Christianity and the construction of manliness in the period.5 I pay special attention to the relationship between Nordic and foreign Catholicism and Protestantism, and how these categorizations were loaded with manliness and womanliness respectively. So, what were these “Catholic” ideals of manliness? How were they related to ideas about manliness, evident within the established Nordic churches? I start out from the hypothesis that the ideological elements, clerical ideals, and liturgical aesthetics of Catholicism were important keystones in these “Catholic” constructions of manliness.
     Many of the Catholic priests at work in the Nordic area were members of religious orders or congregations. In my project, I focus on three male religious orders working in Scandinavia: the Barnabites, the Jesuits, and the Dominicans. Italian Barnabites established themselves in Stockholm and in the Norwegian capital Christiania (Oslo) in the 1860s and were important in the initial phase of the Nordic Catholic mission.6 In the wake of the “cultural war” (Kulturkampf) in Germany in the 1870s, German Jesuits, who were the prime representatives of Ultramontane confessionalism, settled down in Copenhagen and Stockholm, and later in other Swedish and Danish cities. From a Nordic perspective, the Jesuits were by tradition viewed as the ultimate representatives of the “Catholic peril” and of all the evil that was customarily associated with Catholicism. It is therefore interesting to note that it was the self‐same Jesuits who attracted most converts, and that the Jesuit boys’ school outside Copenhagen was attended by a large number of Protestant pupils (Werner, 2005, pp. 106‐110, 139‐141, 187‐189).7
     The Dominicans, who established themselves in the Nordic countries during the 1920s, embodied an ascetic and learned tradition, while at the same time representing the French culture so cherished by the Scandinavian upper classes. In studying how clerical

manliness was construed, I analyze the correspondence between Catholic missionaries and their leadership in the Nordic area and Propaganda Fide. I pay particular attention to the underlying conflicts revealed in the correspondents’ complaints, and their defense of their actions, principally in reports where the parties argue their cases, while attacking their opponents. Here we see “types” and “counter‐types” of clerical manliness and the pattern of the power relations between male and female missionaries.8
     A starting point for my study are the two presumptions that the period in question is to be seen as a “second confessional age,” marked by church consolidation and conflicts between Christian denominations, and that religion played an important role for the construction of manliness. In liberal‐bourgeois circles, religion was seen as a private matter connected to the home and the female sphere (I. Götz von Olenhusen, 1995).9 Middle class liberalism, however, accounted for only a minority of the population, while traditional Christianity in its different denominational forms, despite dwindling observance in many areas, continued to serve as the normative basis of society. Across Europe, religious revivals sprang up that contributed to the revitalization of Christianity. In Protestant countries, these revivals often originated in pietistic and low church movements, while the Ultramontane revival in the Catholic world drew its inspiration from Counter‐Reformation confessionalism. This Catholic neo‐confessionalism served as a basis for a religiously determined worldview, which stood in sharp contrast to the liberal ideology serving as the basis for the constitutional development of the modern state. Catholicism thus took the shape of a counterculture in modern society, characterized by its strict hierarchical order, broad popular footing and triumphalistic appearance (U. Altermatt, 1995, pp. 33‐50; O. Blaschke, 2000, pp. 38‐75 and 2002, pp. 13‐70).10
     Another source of inspiration for my analysis is the gender theories of Pierre Bourdieu and Robert Connell. According to these two theoretical models, it is primarily in the relationship between men and groups of men that manliness is constructed, while women play a passive role. Male dominance over women is asserted, as Bourdieu has formulated it, through a “symbolic violence” that is embedded in the social order, and that appears most clearly in the church sphere and in traditional forms of marriage (Bourdieu, 1998, pp. 47‐67; Connell, 1995; W. Schmale, 2003, pp.153‐154, 227‐230). Here it is important to note the differences between Catholic and Protestant traditions in this field. In the Catholic tradition, celibacy and monastic life was seen as superior to marriage, while in the Protestant tradition the fecund marriage was regarded as the norm for Christian life. Prior to the reforms of Vatican II, it was common to speak of an “estate of perfection” and the monastic lifestyle served as a model also for lay piety. The normative position of celibate ideals within the Catholic Church also emerges in the liturgical structure, with its disciplinary regulations fixated on gender and purity in the meaning of sexual abstinence (M. Dortel‐Claudot, 1994, pp. 654‐706).
     Here, I will present some first results of my work. In the first part of my article, I analyze the conflict around the so‐called Arctic Apostolic Prefecture erected in the 1850s from a gender perspective, in the second the Nordic mission of the Italian Barnabites.

The North Pole Mission and the Ideals of Missionary Manliness

In the middle of the 1850s there were discussions in Rome regarding plans for a reorganization of Scandinavian mission. Sweden and Norway constituted a joint Apostolic Vicariate under the supervision of the Swiss‐born Bishop Laurentius Studach, who was at the same time serving as aumônier for the Catholic Queen Josephine. Denmark was connected with the North‐German missions under the supervision of the bishop of Osnabrück. In 1854 an Arctic Apostolic Prefecture was founded. The leadership of this transatlantic polar mission was given to the Russian Catholic convert and former Jesuit count Stephan Djunkowsky, who founded a missionary centre in the north of Norway, and his aim was to create a priestly fraternity, especially trained for this task. Priests of various nationalities, who were all of the same age as the prefect (in their thirties) joined this arctic mission. At the beginning, this missionary project was quite successful, especially in North Norway, where it succeeded in winning the sympathies of the inhabitants by connecting to medieval traditions and prevalent nationalistic feelings. However, when Djunkowsky tried to expand his jurisdiction to encompass the rest of Norway as well as Denmark, and to place the centre of the mission in Copenhagen, he was met with resistance from other missionaries in the area.11 The correspondence on this matter, that aimed to win the support of the Roman ecclesiastical authorities, gives information about what qualities and what kind of behavior was seen as appropriate for a priest and what was considered improper or dishonorable. In other words, here we may find reflected the discursive construction of priestly manliness as well as male missionary ideals.
     In these letters and reports, the parties often level heavy criticism against each other by emphasizing behaviors, actions or rules of conduct, which in different ways conflicted with the ecclesiastical standards or on other grounds could be considered improper. At the same time, they tried to describe their own conduct as favorably as possible. In this way, Studach accused Djunkowsky of lack of judgment and indiscretion. He also blamed him for having harmed the good name of the Catholic Church in Sweden and Norway through his provocative conduct and heated polemics against Protestantism. Anton Bernhard, the Catholic vicar in Stockholm, characterized Djunkowsky as a rogue, living lavishly on the money of the faithful. He was also an alcoholic, and this bad habit had given him the nickname “Père Cognac.”12 The priests in Copenhagen and Christiania admitted that Djunkowsky had achieved a lot as a missionary. But his boastfulness, alcoholism and unclerical way of living had, as they saw it, caused offence and harmed the work of other missionaries, produced under so many bitter sacrifices. According to them, he was an adventurer and a swindler who lived well on the charity of the faithful and who brought dishonor on the Catholic clergy by his drinking habits.13
     But Djunkowsky and his priests knew how to meet these accusations. In their numerous and often very lengthy reports, the North Pole missionaries describe in detail their adventurous and often dangerous mission travels in the polar region. These stories have many similarities with the masculinized rhetoric of contemporary Anglo‐Saxon discourse, where missionaries are compared to explorers who brave all dangers and surmount all hindrances in their way. In his correspondence Djunkowsky brought into light “classical” missionary qualities, such as audacity, courage and endurance. He also called

attention to his own energy in raising money and organizing the extensive mission travels in the polar region. He also emphasized the strong feeling of community, which characterized the North Pole missionaries: they were reliable men and therefore could be given a great degree of freedom of action.14
     Another distinctive feature in Djunkowsky’s reports is that he describes himself as a guardian of law and order and a reliable Ultramontane who stood up for the rights of the Church, defended the Pope and safe‐guarded the regulations of canon law. He repudiated the criticism from the priests in Copenhagen as groundless. According to Djunkowsky, these priests were inspired by nationalistic considerations and wanted to reserve the Danish mission for German missionaries. He refuted the accusation that he was wasteful with money by explaining how very tough and lonely missionary work was in remote regions, making necessary periods of recreation and communion with fellow priests in more pleasant parts of the world. To be a lonely priest on the fringes of civilization was exceedingly strenuous. He further stated that he was drinking alcohol upon the advice of his doctor, and never immoderately. According to Djunkowsky, the criticism from the other Catholic priests in the region, not least from vicar Bernhard, was to be seen as an expression of envy and deficiency. In letter after letter he accused Bernhard of trying to destroy his arctic missionary project by intriguing and spreading false accusations.15
     Until 1861 it appears that Propaganda Fide did not take much notice of all the complaints and negative opinions brought forward against Djunkowsky. The Roman curia even considered complying with Djunkowsky’s wish to extend the North Pole mission southwards, making Copenhagen its main quarter and raising himself to the rank of bishop (H. Tüchle, 1976, p. 146.) In that situation the other missionaries intensified their efforts to make the Roman curia dissociate from Djunkowsky. Most interesting here is the argumentation used by the bishop of Osnabrück, Paulus Melchers, in a report to Pope Pius IX, enumerating good and bad priestly qualities in a contradictory way. The good qualities were represented by the newly appointed vicar of Copenhagen, Hermann Grüder, whose reports and judgments the bishop referred to in his letters. Grüder was described as a very pious, intelligent and eager priest, with a sensitive conscience and an unusually sound judgment. Lies and defamatory words were very far from this conscientious priest. Djunkowsky, on the other hand, was characterized as an undiscerning and vain priest lacking sound judgment, delicacy, self‐control and priestly dignity.16 Studach expressed a similar opinion and added that it would harm the reputation of the Holy See if Djunkowsky was allowed to continue his activity in Norway.17
     Djunkowsky left his position as prefect for the North Pole mission in October 1861. However, the reason for his resignation was not the criticism made by the other missionaries in the area. It was, instead, the fact that he married a young British lady. The wedding ceremony took place in Hamburg and was conducted by an Anglican priest, in the presence of the town’s British community. The news regarding Djunkowsky’s “fall” rapidly spread, and for his adversaries this was a definitive confirmation that he was a wretched person and that they had been right in their criticism.18 But in Rome the reaction was not at all as severe as could have been expected. Djunkowsky disclaimed his action, explaining it as a case of momentary mental disorder and turned in contrition to Pius IX, asking to be

released from the excommunication placed on him due to the irregular marriage. The pope, who had followed Djunkowsky’s foolhardy missionary project with interest, not only revoked the excommunication but also returned to him his priestly authorization, and invited him to come to Rome in order to talk matters over. But he was not, however, reinstated as prefect of the North Pole mission and was also forced to subject himself to a period of strict penance.19 It is interesting to note that Djunkowsky, in a pro memorial addressed to Pius IX in 1853, had presented a proposal for a church reform, suggesting that obligatory priestly celibacy should be abolished so that priests could marry (A. Palmqvist, 1958, p. 121). After his rehabilitation, Djunkowsky settled in South Germany, where he devoted himself to missiological studies. Economical problems made him return to the Russian Orthodox Church in 1866, thereby recuperating his estates in Russia. By that time, however, he was a broken and sick man, and he died four years later at the age of 49 (B. I. Eidsvig, 1993, p. 185).20
     The North Pole mission was abolished in 1869. Denmark and Norway were made Apostolic Prefectures with Grüder and the Frenchman Bernard Bernard (the former cooperator and successor of Djunkowsky), as apostolic prefects (J. Metzler, 1919, pp. 245-254). This new order was preceded by a power struggle between Bernhard and Grüder, documented in an extensive correspondence. Here arguments concerning missionary strategies dominate, and none of the involved priests questioned each other’s honor, dignity or priestly virtues. The bishop of Osnabrück supported Grüder, whereas Bernard, who for some years resided in Copenhagen, received support from the Belgian bishops. Both were testified to be eminent linguists, intelligent and appreciated by their priestly colleagues. They represented, although in different ways, the Catholic priestly ideal of the time, with its emphasis on asceticism, spirit of self-sacrifice and hierarchical subordination. But at the same time, they were representative of two very different priestly types.21 Grüder had received his education at the Collegium Urbanum in Rome, but to the very last hoped to get a post in a Catholic region in his home country, Germany. He stayed in Denmark out of obedience and his opposition to the plans of Bernhard to incorporate the whole of Norway and Denmark into the North Pole mission. His reports and letters give us an image of a reserved, sensitive and ascetic man, with aesthetic interests, striving to live up to the Tridentine priestly ideals by which he had been educated (Werner, 2005, pp. 84-86). Bernard, on the other hand, who according to Studach had “une extérieure imposante,” was the born missionary, not taken aback by hardships and physical challenge. He had chosen to be a missionary. For him, the reorganization of the Nordic missions meant a real setback.22
     However, it was not a matter of course that Rome should arrive at this solution. On many occasions there had been discussions concerning the possibility of delegating the responsibility of the Swedish-Norwegian mission to the Barnabites, who had established themselves there at the beginning of the 1860s. These plans were never realized, but the large correspondence around this question and the power struggle it reflects illustrate the construction of clerical ideals of manliness and their counterparts.

The Manliness Constructions of the Italian Barnabites

The Barnabite order or Congregatio Clericorum Regularium S. Pauli was a mission-oriented priestly fraternity founded in the 1530s. The order settled in the convent of San Barnaba, from where the name Barnabites was taken. At the time here concerned, the Barnabite order comprised around 200 members, distributed on three provinces. The motherhouse was, and is, in Rome.23 In summer 1864, Barnabite priests established themselves in Stockholm and Christiania. Johan Daniel Stub, who was born in Norway, took over the post as Catholic vicar in Christiania, and Carlo Giovanni Moro and Cesare Tondini de Quarenghi were sent to Stockholm. A number of other Barnabites were active in Sweden and Norway, among them Gregorio Almerici, who replaced Studach as aumônier of Queen Dowager Josephine. Moro also occupied this post for a while. The Barnabites established themselves in Gävle with Moro as vicar and Fumagalli as chaplain. In spring 1885, Fumagalli held a position as lecturer in French and Italian at Uppsala University, where Moro was also lecturing. But due to opposition from the Jesuits, who had recently taken over the pastoral responsibility for the Catholics in Stockholm with surroundings, they were forced to give up this academic apostolate. Also, the plans for a Barnabite mission in South Sweden had to be dropped, and in 1887 the Barnabites definitively left the Scandinavian mission.24
     The Barnabites’ ability to gain a toehold in the Swedish-Norwegian Mission was for a great part due to the engagement of the St. Joseph Sisters, a French congregation with its motherhouse in Chambéry in the Savoy that had been working in Scandinavia since 1862. The Superior General, Marie-Félicité, pushed for the Barnabites to take responsibility both for the entire Swedish-Norwegian mission and for a co-operation between the congregations in the Nordic mission. The Barnabite general had similar aspirations.25 These two congregations came into conflict with the above-mentioned Catholic vicar of Stockholm, Bernhard, who for many years had administered the mission in all but name in place of the sickly Bishop Studach. If, however, we are to believe the Barnabites and the Sisters of St. Joseph, the real power lay with Bernhard’s housekeeper, the Spanish-born Caroline de Bogen. True, she had taken vows, and for a while had belonged to a religious congregation, but she and the vicar lived openly together in the vicarage as if they were married, which the Barnabites and the sisters naturally seized upon in their attacks. It was a scandal, they fumed, that a woman was allowed to exercise power in that manner, or as Tondini put it, “cosa humiliante per la dignità della nostra santa Religione,” that it was humiliating for their holy religion. In fact, Bogen in many respects held a position similar to that of a clergyman’s wife, which Moro also alludes to in some of his reports by calling her “La Pastorinna” (clergyman’s wife).26
     The accounts of these conflicts shed an interesting light on gender relations, which at first glance seem to confirm the thesis of the feminization of religion. The women religious held a strong position in the mission and by appealing to Rome could protect their independence from the local hierarchy. For the clergy, particularly for the older generation, this was a challenge. On a transcript of Propaganda Fide’s regarding the prolongation of Moro’s faculties as aûmonier of the St. Joseph Sisters in Stockholm, Studach scribbled “Weiber-Regierung.” He was referring to the fact that the Chambéry

congregation had defied him by ensuring that Moro would continue to serve as a priest in the Swedish capital.27 However, if we look more closely, it transpires that the sisters did not have as independent a position as at first appears. If Caroline de Bogen wielded her influence by virtue of her position as Bernhard’s trusted housekeeper, it was by exploiting their network of male contacts within the upper echelons of the church hierarchy that the Sisters of St. Joseph managed to maintain their position in the Nordic mission.
     The conflicts within the Catholic mission in Stockholm for a great part circled around Moro and his activities. Moro soon became very popular, both as a preacher and as a spiritual director, and he was a welcomed guest in the elegant parlors of the capital. When in 1868, and then in 1877, he was removed from Stockholm, this gave rise to a storm of protests, both among Catholics and Protestants. At the later occasion, a letter of protest with more than 250 signatures was sent to Propaganda Fide.28 The majority of the signers were Protestants. Queen Dowager Josephine also engaged in the debate. In a personal letter to Pope Pius IX she pointed out that Moro with his brilliant sermons, his high education and good example, more than anyone else had contributed to a more positive opinion of the Catholic Church in the country.29
     The secular priests, who for the greater part came from Germany, argued that the Barnabites were not fit to be missionaries in the Nordic countries, as their Mediterranean mentality was too foreign in a Nordic context. They admitted that the Barnabites’ refined and elegant manners were very much appreciated in the upper ranks of society, but in their eyes, this “parlor apostolate” was more harmful than useful for the Catholic mission.30 The Barnabites on their part, proud as they were of their “solido spirito di romanità” (solid Roman piety) and intellectual refinement, considered themselves as representing a superior kind of priestly manliness. In their letters they also emphasize the importance of the high dignity and sacral status of Catholic priesthood, demonstrating the cultural superiority of Catholicism.31 It should also be mentioned that they were highly influenced by the Italian philosopher and theologian Antonio Rosmini-Serbati, who advocated a more liberal form of Ultramontane Catholicism.32
     How were the good and the bad types of clerical manliness depicted in the reports regarding the Barnabite Mission in Scandinavia? When commending someone, both the Sisters of St. Joseph and the Barnabites refer to ideals such as simplicity, decency, piety (pieté), patience, and charity (tendre charité). In proposing Moro as apostolic vicar after Studach, his fellow religious stressed qualities such as humility and self-sacrificing obedience; they emphasized, in other words, the kind of “passive” virtues that within the liberal-bourgeois discourse were usually associated with women.33 Studach and Bernhard, for their part, accused Moro of a lax practice as confessor, lack of orthodoxy, intrigue, and defamation, as well as of a dissipated social life under the cover of mission. He avoided simple pastoral tasks such as teaching children catechism, but instead gathered a whole “battalion” of admiring, young Catholic women around him. These women refused to accept any other priest than Moro as their spiritual director and confessor.34
     For Moro these agonizing conflicts were a great suffering and he several times requested to be called back to Italy. He was deeply distressed by being ignored and by the unjust attacks to which he was subjected.35 During 1866 the situation was especially critical, and Moro declared that he could not continue with his work to “salvare le anime

altrui” (save others’ soul) when risking to “perdere la sua propria” (lose his own).36 Such outbursts of feeling are very common in Moro’s correspondence with his superiors. Another characteristic feature is his emphasis on sacrifice, prayer and obedience. In a letter from spring 1867 he characterized the subordination under the will of his superiors as “la mia regula,” the commands of the general superior were for him equal to God’s will. Prayer was an instrument in the battle against willfulness.37 We find a similar way of thinking in Tondini’s correspondence with his superiors. The Roman decisions were for him a manifestation of God’s will and obedience was an “esercizio di fede.”38 The Barnabite general Alessandro Teppa underlined in a letter to Moro that religious sent out as missionaries were exempted from bodily asceticism and therefore had to take great pains in sacrificing their own will and patiently suffering the afflictions which God had in preparation for them. A life as missionary was a “vita di sacrifizio,” a life full of sacrifices.39
     This obedience discourse was typical for regulated Catholic religious life at this time, but in the reports and letters from Barnabites working in Scandinavia, obedience is articulated not only as a self-evident virtue, but also as an existential problem. Moro sometimes described his situation as a “via cruces,” and Tondini compared his stay in Christiania as a visit to purgatory. Almerici considered that the effort to give up self-will in obedience (le sacrifice de moi-même) must have its limits. In his case, the matter at stake was the plan to send him to the small Norwegian town of Bergen. This would, he argued, mean that he was deprived of fraternal community life and at the same time forced to have contacts with the “world” (il mondo) he had renounced through his vows.40 The picture of the ideal man religious, of which we see a glimpse here, in many ways opposes the contemporary bourgeois manly ideal that strongly emphasized the fight for independence and autonomy, whereas virtues such as humility, self-sacrifice and subordination were associated with women. However, also within Protestantism these ideals were honored as Christian, gender-crossing virtues. But here obedience and subordination were associated with the worldly sphere – with military life, the household and the position as a soldier in relation to authority – and that the exercise of these virtues was not, as in the Catholic discourse, seen as a merit in a religious sense (C. Walter, 1984, pp. 148-157).
     A common trait of the Barnabites’ Scandinavian mission project is that the religious sent to the Nordic countries would rather have refrained from this assignment. Fumagalli wrote in a letter to a fellow religious that he had accepted being sent to Sweden “sans aucun enthousiasme, obéissant presque machinalement au désir des Superieurs,” only as an act of obedience. Tondini, however, was enthusiastic at the beginning, but this was due to the fact that he saw the Nordic activity as a preparation for a future apostolate in Russia. As with the others, he accepted obedience, or as he put it: “paratus sum sine voluntate” (I am ready without wanting).41 One reason for this discomfort was the scarce success and conflicts with the secular priests in the region. But the principal reason seems to have been the difficulty of founding real communities. In the letters from the Barnabites in Scandinavia, there are constant complaints about the lack of brotherhood and regulated religious community life. Religious community life also included lay brothers who did all the practical work. In lacking this support, the Barnabites in the Nordic countries had to either ask the female congregation to help, or to employ maids. What

this could lead to is revealed in a letter from Almerici from his time in Christiania. The maid that had been employed was such a poor cook that Moro had to take over the task. Almerici lifts out this fact as an inconvenience, not because cooking was considered something for women, but because housekeeping in a male community had to be done by lay brothers.42 The Barnabites were used to living in homosocial manly communities, where manliness was constructed within the framework of a hierarchical order in relation to other men.
     In the conflict regarding the Barnabites’ Nordic mission, which coincided with the First Vatican Council and the fall of the Papal States, the Roman curia was quite manifestly on the side of the Barnabites. The Barnabite general superior had close contacts with the prefect of Propaganda Fide, Cardinal Alessandro Barnabò, who on many occasions inquired about the possibility of the Barnabites taking responsibility for the Swedish-Norwegian mission. However, in a decisive moment, the Barnabite general and his staff declined this offer, arguing that the order lacked sufficient personal and economical resources to fulfill this mission (S. Declercq, 1937, pp. 157-161). The fact that the Italian Barnabites evidently had difficulties in acclimatizing themselves in Scandinavia may also have played a role.
     The Barnabites’ Nordic missionary project was in many ways a product of women’s ambitions and strivings. The extensive correspondence here analyzed often deals with women and their roles in the conflicts at stake. It is interesting to note the manner in which women were used in the argumentation. A common feature is that they were mostly mentioned in negative terms in connection with discussions about power and influence. In their letters, the Barnabites describe the influence of the vicar’s housekeeper Caroline de Bogen and the Daughters of Mary on the missionary work as an expression of decay and disorder. These women, Moro stated in a letter from spring 1865, did not strive for wisdom or sanctity but for power.43 Feminine power is here put in contradiction to sanctity. Studach and Bernhard expressed a similar view. In order to belittle the Catholic protests against Moros’ transfer to Christiania, they described it as an action organized by his female admirers. In a long report to Propaganda Fide, Bernhard expressed his indignation that Rome gave so much credit to the reports and complaints of women religious. According to him, the problems in the Swedish mission were mainly due to the female congregation’s strong influence in Rome. 44
     This could be interpreted as contempt for women’s ability and competence, but at a closer look the issue at stake was the exercising of power without possessing formal authority. Similar accusations were also directed to men; the struggle over the North Pole mission gives many examples of this. Both Djunkowsky and his successor Bernard were accused of meddling in the affairs of the Swedish and Norwegian Danish missions. But there is also another important factor. The women who were accused of an unduly exercise of power were all women religious or, as in the case of Bogen, secular women living under vows. At this time women religious were more and more considered as the priests’ assistants, and as belonging to the clergy in a wider sense (J. A. K. McNamara, 1996, pp. 600-627; E. Sastre Santos, 1997, pp. 860-875). This is also reflected in the material here analyzed. Bernhard considered Bogen as his trusted co-operator. The Barnabites were prepared to work together with the St Joseph Sisters as equal partners,

and there is no evidence in the material that they regarded the women religious as subordinate to male religious. The belonging to religious orders, the “estate of perfection,” transcended the socially constructed gender differences. But this did not mean that these male religious accepted woman’s political emancipation. In one of his articles in the newspaper Gefle-Posten, Moro renounced the idea of equal political rights for men and women, arguing that this would threaten the moral standards of society. According to him, women’s vocation was to spread love and charity. In this sense women could and should exercise power in society (Moro, 1887, pp. 23-25).
     After 1880, the influence of the woman religious waned considerably. The Barnabites left Scandinavia, abandoning the field to other male orders, particularly the Jesuits. With the establishment of the German Jesuits in Denmark and Sweden, no women religious were involved, and there was no question of a co-operation of the kind that had existed between the Barnabites and the St. Joseph Sisters. The Jesuits even hesitated to engage themselves with women, as they were troublesome “Nonnen-Seelensorge.”45 The conflicts that the Jesuits were drawn into centered on limiting competence in relation to the secular clergy. The reports on these issues as well as the correspondence dealing with internal problems reflect the discursive struggle regarding clerical manliness. The Jesuits’ letters are more temperate and to the point than the Barnabites’; pious expressions of emotion are less in evidence, and qualities such as discipline, asceticism, industry, and, last but not least, obedience were accorded great importance. Here, the more active parts of the Tridentine clerical ideals are brought to the fore. The more passive virtues, such as humility, are principally mentioned in connection with disciplinary measures against religious who had offended the Rules.46 But in the Jesuits’ private correspondence, the tone is rather different. An example is the correspondence between the Superior of the Jesuits in Stockholm, Friedrich Lieber, and his brother Ernst, the famous leader of the Catholic “Zentrum” party. In their letters, they let religious sentiment flow more freely, and there is much talk of prayer and confident trust in God.47
     With the arrival of the French Dominicans, who launched their mission to the Nordic area in the 1920s, a new situation arose. Alongside the fathers, female Dominican communities were established, first in Oslo, later in Stockholm and Lund. The Dominican fathers served as chaplains in the sisters’ convents, and there was a close cooperation between the two branches. Like the Barnabites before them, the Dominicans cultivated an intellectual mission, and their chapels soon evolved into intellectual centers.

References

Archives

Literature

Notes

1. 1. Fumagalli to Giuseppe Grannniello 4 March 1885: ASBR. Cf. Lindqvist (2000, pp. 407ff).
2. 2. The Nordic countries remained under the Congregation of Propaganda Fide until 1977,
   when the Nordic Catholic dioceses received the full status of local Churches.
3. 3. For example, see D. Moulinet (2004, pp. 218-230), J. Schmiedl (2004, pp. 255-261), A.
   Colombo (2004, pp. 263-276) and F. Metzger (2004, pp. 316-330).
4. 4. The source material consists of official and private correspondence in Nordic
   Catholic diocesan archives, the archives of Propaganda Fide and of the Barnabites, the Jesuits and the Dominicans in Rome, the German Jesuits’ archives in Munich, and the archives of the Dominicans in Paris.
5. 5. In all, fourteen researchers and two advisers (the historians Hugh McLeod of Birmingham, and Callum Brown of Dundee) are engaged in this research project, which is sponsored by the Bank of Sweden Tercentenary Foundation. We have also contact with research groups in the Netherlands and Belgium dealing with similar projects. See http://www.hist.lu.se/hist/forskning/kristen_manlighet.php.
6. 6. For further details of the Barnabite mission in Scandinavia see S. Declercq (1935, 1936 & 1937 and 1938) and B. Lindqvist (1981, 1983 & 2000).
7. 7. Cf. Werner (1996, pp. 128‐146, 275‐285), P. Hampton Frosell (1995) and S. Olden‐Jørgensen (1998).
8. 8. There is no broader scholarly work published on the Dominican Fathers missionary work in Scandinavia.
9. 9. Cf. P. Markkola (2000), J. Tosh (1999), A. Bradstock (2000) and C. G. Brown (2001).
10. 10. Cf. K.-E. Lönne (2000, pp. 29-170), H. McLeod (2000), L. Hölscher (2005) and A. Jarlert (2003, pp. 87-94).
11. 11. This conflict is described by Eidsvig (1993, pp. 169-187) and Palmqvist (1958, pp. 121-124).
12. 12. Letters to Barnabò from Studach 26 Oct. & 2 Dec. 1856, 30 March 1857 & 13 Nov. 1861, and from Bernhard 14 July 1859: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF.
13. 13. Letters to Barnabò from Grüder 31 Aug. 1858, 13 Oct. 1859, 4 Oct. 1861, and from Lichtlé 12 May 1861: Germania, vol. 22, ASPF.
14. 14. Letters to Barnabò from Djunkowsky 21 Sept 21 Nov. 1856, 29 Aug., 8 Dec. and 16 Oct. 1857, 5 March & 11 April 1859, 15 Oct. 1860, 22 April, 27 May, 9 Oct. 1861; from L. Mussa 26 Oct. 1857, and from Bauer 20 July 1858: Germania vol. 21 & 22, ASPF.
15. 15. Letters to Barnabò from Djunkowsky 6 Oct. & 21 Nov. 1856, 29 Aug., 16 Oct. 1857, 12 April 1858, 19 Dec. 1859, 15 Oct. 1860, 22 April, 27 May & 9 Oct.1861: Germania, vol. 21 & 22, ASPF.
16. 16. Melchers to Pius IX 11 Oct. 1861: Germania, vol. 23, ASPF. Cf. Metzler (1919, p. 234).
17. 17. Studach to Barnabò 13 Nov. 1861: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF.
18. 18. E. Maubel to Barnabò 17 Jan. 1862: Germania, vol. 21, ASPF. Bernhard to G. Simeoni, Secretary at the Propaganda Fide, 12 March 1874: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF. Cf. B. I. Eidsvig (1993, p. 185).
19. 19. Djunkowsky to Barnabò 24 Dec. 1861, 27 Jan., 20 March & 9 May 1862, and to Pius IX 18 Jan. 1862, 22 Dec. 1864: Germania, vol. 21, ASPF.
20. 20. Together with M. Lacroix, Djunkowsky published Dictionnaire des Missions Catholiques. Encyclopédie théologique publiée par Migne, Paris 1864. The history of the North Pole mission is described in vol. II, pp. 1320-1334.
21. 21. Grüder to Barnabò 14 July, from Melchers 28 July 1865, and from Bernard 18 May 1866 & 28 Oct. 1868. Bernard to Pius IX 3 May 1861 & 12 March 1864: Germania, vol. 22 & 23.
22. 22. Studach to Barnabò 29 June 1868: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF. Bernard to Barnabò 28 Nov. 1868: Germania, vol. 23, ASPF. Cf. Metzler (1919, pp. 246-248).
23. 23. For further details about the Barnabites, see A. M. Gentili (1967).
24. 24. For an overview, see S. Declercq.
25. 25. Marie-Félicité to Caccia 9 March & 4 July 1864: ASPF. Marie-Félicité to Barnabò 14 Feb. & 25 July 1864: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF. Cf. Werner (2002, pp. 63-65).
26. 26. Tondini to Caccia 19 May & 10 June 1864: Epist. Gen. ASBR. In the later report, Tondini calls Bogen ”padrona nella parochial.” Moro to General A. Teppa 6 March, 10 May & 18 June 1867: Epist. Gen., ASBR. Marie-Félicité to Barnabò 28 July 1864: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF.
27. 27. Barnabò to Studach 11 May 1867. Cf. Palmqvist (1958, p. 148).
28. 28. Anne de Jésus to Caccia 13 March 1867. Moro to Teppa 18 June & 14 Sept. 1867: Epist. Gen., ASBR. Cf. Declercq (1936, pp. 40-47, 146-155) and Werner (2002, p. 70).
29. 29. Josephine to Pius IX 22 Oct. 1868: In B. Lindqvist (2000, pp. 151ff).
30. 30. Bernhard to Barnabò 12 Sept. 1867, 12 Feb. 1868, 28 July 1869 and to Franchi 12 March 1874. Studach to Barnabò 29 June 1868 & 4 Jan. 1868. Letters to Franchi from Huber 11 and from R. Kiesler 19 Oct. 1875: Svezia, vol. 4 & 5, ASPF.
31. 31. Almerici to Teppa 1 & 4 Oct. 1868. Stub & Moro to Teppa 1 May 1868. Fumagalli to Grannniello 4 Mach 1885: Epist. Gen., ASBR. Cf. Lindqvist (2000, p. 407ff).
32. 32. G. Scalese (1991, pp. 55-84). The “Rosminians” were later accused of being modernists, and in 1877 several statements by Rosmini were put on the index.
33. 33. Letters to Caccia from Marie-Félicité 9 March, 5 & 21 July 1864, and from Anne de Jésus 13 March and 26 Sept. 1865 and from Tondini 10 June: Epist. Gen., ASBR. Marie-Félicité to Barnabò 4 July 1864: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF.
34. 34. Bernhard to Barnabò 12 Feb. 1868 & 29 June 1869: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF. In a report to Teppa from 23 Oct. 1867 Moro is quoting a letter from Bernhard, where the latter had called him ”diavolo incatenato.” Cf. Declercq (1936, pp. 146ff). Studach to Barnabò 29 Juni 1868 & 4 Jan. 1869: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF.
35. 35. Moro to Caccia 15 & 16 Aug., 8 & 24 Oct. 1864, 30 Jan., 30 June, 15 & 16 Aug. & 21 November 1865, and to Teppa 16 Jan., 19 May, 7 Oct. 1866, 14 Sept &, 23 Oct. 1867: Epist. Gen., ASBR. Cf. Declercq (1935, pp. 225-227; 1936, pp. 40-42). In the letter from 19 May 1866 he described the conflicts as a ”guerra dissimulata e accanita” (terrible war).
36. 36. Moro to Teppa 8 March 1866: Epist. Gen., ASBR.
37. 37. Moro to Teppa 13 April 1867. More examples are found in letters from Moro to Teppa 7 Oct. 1866, 4 & 29 Aug. 1868: Epist. Gen., ASBR. Moro to Studach (copy) 2 April 1868: Svezia vol. 4, ASPF. This kind of terminology is present also in the letters of the other Barnabites, as in a letter from Stub to Caccia 18 Feb. 1865: Epist. Gen., ASBR.
38. 38. Tondini to Caccia 3 Oct. 1865: Epist. Gen., ASBR; Tondini to Almerici 2 Oct. & 25 Nov. 1865: Carte Almerici: ASBR.
39. 39. Caccia to Moro 3 Mach 1869: Epistolario Caccia, ASBR.
40. 40. Letters to Teppa from Moro 15 & 29 June and from Americi 4 Nov. 1868: Epist. Gen., ASBR. In a letter from 4 Oct. the same year, Almerici openly criticized Teppa for having accepted Moros’ replacement to Christiania. Tondini to Almerici 14 Nov. 1864: Carte Almerici, ASBR.
41. 41. Fumagalli to Giuseppe Grannniello 4 March 1885: quoted in Lindqvist (2000, pp. 407ff). Tondini to Caccia 27 Feb. 1864: Epist. Gen., ASBR.
42. 42. Almerici to Teppa 4 Nov. 1868: Epist. Gen., ASBR.
43. 43. Moro to Caccia 30 Jan. 1865: Epist. Gen., ASBR.
44. 44. Reports to Barnabò from Studach 4 Jan. 1869 and from Bernhard 28 July 1869: Svezia, vol. 4, ASPF. Bernhard to Bishop Sträss in Strasbourg (draft) 1869: Collection of the Eugenia Parish, Archives of the Catholic Bishops Office (EFA, KBA).
45. 45. There are a lot of letters about this from the 1870s and 1880s in Dania V 65, Archivum Provinciae Germaniae Septentrionalis (APGS) in Munich.
46. 46. We find many examples of this in the APGS as well as in the Archivum Romanum (ARSI) in Rome.
47. 47. Ernst Lieber, Briefwechsel mit seinem Bruder Friedrich Lieber 1862–1898: Hessisches Hauptstaatsarchiv, Wiesbaden, Abt. 1172, Nr. 99.

Yvonne Maria Werner, Associate Professor
Department of History, Lund University, Box 117, S‐221 00 Lund/SWEDEN
e: yvonne [dot] wernerhist [dot] lu [dot] se

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