DON BOSCO LIVED HERE

Aldo Giraudo
Giuseppe Biancardi

Presentation

1. His childhood and early teenage years lived around the hill, or Colle (which means ‘hill’ in English), where he was born at the Becchi (1815–1831).
2. His time as a student in Chieri at the public school then the seminary: this was the period of John Bosco’s mid-to-late teenage years and early adulthood, during which he made his basic choices for later life (1831–1841).
3. His first eight years as a priest. As a young priest he completed his pastoral formation at the Pastoral Institute (Convitto Ecclesiastico) and amidst a range of difficulties and problems began his apostolate amongst the young (1841–1849).
4. His mature years with Valdocco at their heart: nearly forty years of prodigious activity on Don Bosco’s part, beginning with its local impact but then taking on global dimensions. The Oratory at Valdocco becomes the seed-bed of the Saint’s general educational, specific scholastic and broad-ranged publishing activity. This is where his religious families and lay associations were founded to take on social and apostolic involvement; it was from here that his great missionary venture on behalf of the Church and human society went out (1850–1888).

1. References
   The references are to the Italian editions, and have not been altered except for the case of the MO and the Life of Dominic Savio, since these are readily available in English. References have been simplified in this case to chapters rather than pages, since there are various editions available. Where readers have access to the printed English editions (not all items exist in English print editions) they can check them out, and in many instances can find them online. The Memorie Biografiche references have been left as is (original Italian) but the cited passages are the translator’s version.
2. Proper names
   Although it is a descriptive not prescriptive science, translation science dictates inner consistency in translation choices throughout a text. There is no clear descriptive or prescriptive rule concerning ’name’ translation, but the modern tendency is not to translate modern names of people, places — though always with exceptions, and there are many of these! Salesian readers in English are by now accustomed to ‘John’ rather than ‘Giovanni’, (and so on for other names which have direct English counterparts) for our major figures, so expect John, Joseph, Anthony Bosco, Michael Rua etc., but Secondo or Evaristo will remain as such, clearly. Where the figures are less known to the ‘Salesian’ reader, the original names will be retained in most instances, even when there is a commonly known English version of that name. Don has been replaced by ‘Father’ in most instances (or Fr) — except for Don Bosco.
3. Minor updates
   One or two minor updates to information have been added where relevant. For example the Moglia farm is now under the management of the Past Pupils of Don Bosco.

Part I. 

THE BECCHI, CASTELNUOVO AND SURROUNDS

2 Some facts and their significance

2.1 Childhood and early teenage years

2.2 Emerging educational and spiritual values

• Duties regarding education carried out by Mama Margaret despite serious financial problems.
• Attention to and respect for the personal originality of each of her sons, but also clear-mindedness in noting failures and a determination to correct them.
• Ability to develop a correct moral conscience and a sense of personal responsibility and honesty in her children.
• Ability to create a climate of confidence, sincerity, transparency in relationships between parent and child through dialogue, kindness, patience, attention.
• Formation to a sense of work, the need to be useful at home from the earliest years, with little tasks adapted to their age.
• Beginning to be consistent in doing one’s duty, gradually becoming methodical; the instilling of the need to complete tasks once begun.
• Becoming used to moderation in life, to a certain austerity without indulging in too much comfort, laziness, whims.
• Appreciating the value of school and culture in formation, encouraging and helping it along.
• Providing appropriate room for play, cheerfulness, for what children like to do but in conjunction with doing one’s duty.
• Encouraging being with others and carefully chosen friendships.
• Forming a heart that is welcoming, hospitable, generous. Sensitising the youngsters to the needs of their neighbour, the sufferings of the poorest, and getting them to engage in acts of practical charity.
• Educating to a sense of God the Creator, to contemplating his greatness in the wonders of creation, and to trust in His Providence. Looking after their growth in faith and hope.
• Introduction to personal and community prayer through example and the involvement of the whole family.
• Introduction to the regular celebration of the Sacrament of Penance, forming moral conscience through frequent revision of life or daily examination of conscience.
• The personal involvement of the parents in catechesis, preparing their children for sacraments and Christian formation, together with priests and teachers.
• In early adolescence the facilitation of friendly and trusting contacts with a priest.
• Appreciation of the value of youthful spiritual direction.

3 Historical, geographical and biographical notes

3.1 The historical context

3.2 Chronological table

3.3 Suggestions for visits and tours

4 Tours to the various places

4.1 Colle Don Bosco and the Becchi

4.1.1 Biglione Farmhouse (where Don Bosco was actually born)

I was not yet two years old when the merciful Lord hit us with a sad bereavement. My dearly beloved father died unexpectedly. He was strong and healthy, still young and actively interested in promoting a good Christian upbringing for his offspring. One day he came home from work covered in sweat and imprudently went down into a cold cellar That night he developed a high temperature, the first sign of a serious illness. Every effort to cure him proved vain. Within a few days he was at death’s door. Strengthened by all the comforts of religion, he recommended to my mother confidence in God, then died, aged only thirty-four, on 12 May 1817 (note.: in fact it was the 11th, as we seen from archival documents). I do not know how I reacted on that sad occasion. One thing only do I remember, and it is my earliest memory. We were all going out from the room where he had died, and I insisted on staying behind. My grieving mother addressed me, “Come, John, come with me.” “If papa’s not coming, 1 don’t want to come,” I answered. “My poor son,” my mother replied, “come with me; you no longer have a father.” Having said this she broke down and started crying as she took me by the hand and led me away. I began crying too because she was crying. At that age I could not really understand what a tragedy had fallen on us in our father’s death. (MO Ch. 1).

This event threw the whole family into difficulty. Five people had to be supported (note.: Mama Margaret, her mother-in-law and three children); The crops failed that year because of a drought[and that was our only source of income; the prices of foodstuffs soared... Some people who lived at that time have assured me that beggars hesitated to ask for even a little bran to put in broth of chickpeas or beans for nourishment. People were found dead in the fields, their mouths stuffed with grass, with which they had tried to quell their ravenous hunger.
My mother often used to tell me that she fed the family until she exhausted all her food. She then gave money to a neighbour, Bernardo Cavallo, to go looking for food to buy. This friend went round to various markets but was unable to buy anything, even at exorbitant prices... My mother, not allowing herself to be discouraged, went round to the neighbours to try to borrow some food. She did not find anyone able to help. “My dying husband,” she told us, “said I must have confidence in God. Let’s kneel then and pray.” After a brief prayer she got up and said, “Drastic circumstances demand drastic means.” Then she went to the stable and, helped by Mr Cavallo, she killed a calf. Part of that calf was immediately cooked and the worst of the family’s hunger satisfied. In the days that followed, cereals bought at a very high price from more distant places enabled us to survive. (MO Ch. 1).

4.1.2 The Casetta or Cottage

On the same hillside as the Becchi, about 200 metres below the Biglione Farm house, is a small cluster of houses which were occupied by four families (Graviglia, Cavallo, Bechis and Ronco) and formed the Cavallo Canton. Francis Louis Bosco bought a very poor little house with a northerly aspect on 8 February 1817, just three months before he died, for 100 lire (the price of an ox). The house comprised ‘a stable and croft, hayloft above, extending to the ground’, ‘tiled but in a bad state, with a wheat storage area in front of about ten tavole’ [note: a tavola or table, was a surface measurement, approximately 100 m2], as described in the purchasing deed (8 February 1817) and the inventory of goods as listed in Francis Bosco’s Last Will and Testament (18 May 1817). The building measured 12 metres long by 3 wide and 4.5 metres high. There was a dividing wall separating it from the Cavallo family. Nearby, a few metres to the west, was where the Graglias lived (demolished in order to build the staircase that now allows one to visit the upper floor).

The purchase was motivated by the fact that Francis came to know that the Biglione family intended to sell the farmhouse (the workshop, we learn from the property register documents, was given to the Chiardi family in 1818, from there in 1846 it passed on to the Damevino family who would sell it to the Salesians in 1929) and, furthermore, from his desire to set up a patrimony in immovable goods. This was already, we note, a time of severe economic crisis, along with the famine that struck the area in 1816–17.
After her husband’s death, Mama Margaret continued to live in the Biglione Farmhouse with her children, the old mother-in-law and two farmhands from the Biglione Farm, until halfway through November, the time when the share-farming contract finished. In the meantime she reorganised the simple dwelling bought by Francis and transferred the family there on 13 November 1817.

My mother, seeing how upset I was because of the obstacles in the way of my studies, and not having any hope of getting the consent of Anthony, who was now over twenty, thought about dividing our inheritance. There were serious difficulties, however, since Joseph and I were minors. There were serious difficulties, however, since Joseph and I were minors. Nevertheless she went ahead. My grandmother had died some years previously, so our family now consisted of my mother, and Joseph who did not want to be separated from me. (MO Ch. 6).

Her greatest care was given to instructing her sons in their religion, making them value obedience, and keeping them busy with tasks suited to their age. When I was still very small, she herself taught me to pray. As soon as I was old enough to join my brothers, she made me kneel with them morning and evening. We would all recite our prayers together, including the rosary. I remember well how she herself prepared me for my first confession. She took me to church, made her own confession first, then presented me to the confessor. Afterwards, she helped me to make my thanksgiving. (MO Ch. 1).

“Remember that God sees you and also sees your innermost thoughts” she often told them. “It is God who created the world and put so many stars up there. If the firmament is so beautiful what will heaven be like?”; and again: “How grateful we should be to the Lord who provides us with everything we need; God really is our father. Our father who art in heaven!” (SM, 28-30).

She would never allow her children to be lazy and duly prepared them to carry out their duties. When he was barely four years old John was already very good at spreading out the hemp, and his mother gave him plenty of that to do. And when the little lad had finished this task then he would go and have some fun. (MB 1, 48).

When he got back one day from a walk with his brother Joseph, they were both very thirsty because it was already summer. Their mother went to draw some water and gave Joseph some to drink first. Seeing that he had been given preference, when his mother brought some water to him, he showed his disappointment and made as if he didn’t want any. His mother, without saying a word, took the water away then sat down. John stood there for a moment, then said timidly:
“Mama!”
“Yes John?”
“Are you also going to give me some water?”
“I thought you weren’t thirsty!”
“Mama, I’m sorry!”
“Ah, well then, that’s ok!”

And so she went and got some water and smiling, gave it to him. (SM 37).

John was eight, and one day while his mother had gone to a nearby village to do something, he got the idea of getting something that was kept up high. Since he was not tall enough he got a chair, got up on it, but tipped over a container full of oil. It fell to the floor and broke. Upset, he tried to fix up the problem by sweeping the spilt oil away, but knowing he could not get rid of the stain nor the smell which was everywhere, he thought about how he could soften the blow for his mother. Se he took a willow branch, and stripping off the bark he cut various patterns into it as best he could. When he knew it was time for his mother to return, he ran down the valley to meet her and as soon as they met he said: “So, mother, how are you? Did you have a good walk?”
“Yes John my dear! And you, are you ok? Are you cheerful? Have you been good?”
“Oh! Mama! Look here!” And he gave her the stick.
“Ah my son, you have been up to something.”
“Yes, and I deserve to be punished this time.”
“And what happened?”
“I was climbing up like this, and unfortunately I broke a flask of oil. Knowing that I deserve to be punished I brought the switch so you can use it on me without the bother of having to go looking for it.”
Meanwhile John presented the switch all carved and looked at his mother with a shrewd grin. Margaret looked at her son and the switch, then laughing at his shrewdness, she finally said: “I’m sorry about what happened but since your behaviour is proof of your innocence, I forgive you. Just the same remember this advice. Think before you act!” (MB 1, 73-74).

A... certain Secondo Matta, servant in one of the surrounding farms, and of the same age, came down the hill each morning leading his master’s cows. He had a slice of black bread for his breakfast. Instead John was munching on some white bread that his mother Margaret always made sure her children had. One fine day John asked Matta:
“Would you like to do me a favour?”
“Willingly,” his friend said.
“Would you like to swap bread?”
“Why?”
“Because your bread has to be better than mine and I would prefer it.”
Matta was simple enough to believe that John really did prefer black bread, and since he liked his friend’s white bread, he willingly agreed to the swap. From that day on and for two spring seasons to follow, every time they met in the field in the morning they swapped bread. When Matta grew up and thought about it, he often recounted this fact to his nephew Fr Secondo Marchisio (MB 1, 89).

4.1.3 His brother Joseph’s house

“Early on the first Monday in October I saw lad accompanied by his father coming to speak with me. His cheerful but respectful nature attracted my gaze.
“Who are you?” I asked him, “Where do you come from?”

“I am Dominic Savio,” he replied, whom Fr Cugliero, my teacher, has spoken about, and we come from Mondonio.”

I called him aside to find out what studies he had done, how he had lived up till then, and we soon began to trust one other. I could see in him a soul that was animated by the Lord’s spirit, and I was not a little surprised to see what divine grace had already achieved in such a tender heart. After talking a little longer, before I called his father, he said these exact words to me:
“So what do you think? Will you take me to Turin to study?”
“Well! It seems to me there is good material here.”
“What could you use this material for?”
“To make a nice garment to give the Lord.”
“So I am the material: you are the tailor; so take me with you and let’s make a good garment for the Lord.”
“I am not sure you are strong enough for study.”
“Have no fear of that; the Lord has given me health and grace up till now, and will help me in the future.”
“But when you finish studying Latin, what will you do?”
“If the Lord will give me the grace I would like to embrace the ecclesiastical state.”

“OK. Now I want to see if you have what it takes to study: Take this little book (it was an edition of the Catholic Readings),and study this page for today, and tomorrow you can recite it back to me.”

Having said that I left him free to go and play with the other boys, and I went to speak with his father. No more than eight minutes went by before Dominic came back to me smiling and told me:
“If you want I can give you that page now.”
I took the book and to my surprise I saw that he had not only studied the page, but understood the meaning of the contents.
“Well done,” I told him, “You anticipated your study of this lesson so I will anticipate my reply. Yes; I will take you to Turin and from now on you are enrolled as one of my dear boys.” (DS Ch. 7).

One evening while our boys were all asleep, I heard someone crying and sighing. I crept up to the window and saw Magone in one corner of the hay shed looking at the moon and crying.
“What’s up, Magone, are you ill?” I asked him. He had thought he was alone and nobody could see him so he was upset and didn’t know how to answer; but then he said:
“I am crying because I am looking at the moon that has for so many centuries appeared each evening to dispel the darkness of the night without every disobeying its Creator, while I am so young, have reason, and should have been faithful to my God’s law, but I have disobeyed him so often and offended him in a thousand ways.”
And saying that he began crying again. I consoled him with a few words and he calmed down and went back to sleep again.

(G. Bosco, Cenno biografico sul giovanetto Magone Michele allievo dell’Oratorio di S. Francesco di Sales, Torino. Tip. G.B. Paravia e Comp. 1861, pp. 64–65. Or Ch. 12 in English editions).

4.1.4 Museum of 19th Century Farming Life

4.1.5 Sanctuary of Mary Help of Christians

4.1.6 Monument to John the Juggler

When the weather was fine, especially on Sundays and feast days, a few strangers would come along to swell the ranks. Things were getting a bit more serious now. The entertainment now extended to tricks I had picked up from acrobats and magicians I had watched in the marketplaces and at fairs I used to watch them closely to get the hang of the tricks, then go home and practise till I had mastered the skill. You can imagine all the falls and tumbles and bumps and crashes I was always having! But would you believe that by the time I was eleven I could juggle, do mid-air somersaults and the swallow trick, and walk on my hands. I could walk, jump, and even dance on the tightrope like a professional acrobat. From the programme of one holiday in particular you can get an idea of our general routine.
At Becchi there was a field in which grew several trees. One of them, a pear tree that is still there, was very helpful to me then. I used to sling a rope from it to another tree some distance away. I had a table with a haversack on it, and on the ground a mat for the jumps. When I had everything set up and everyone was eager to marvel at my latest feats, I would invite them to recite the rosary and sing a hymn. Then standing on the chair, I preached to them or, better, repeated as much as I could remember from the explanation of the gospel I had heard in church that morning; or sometimes I recalled episodes from something I had heard or read. After the sermon there was a short prayer, and then the show began. At that point you would have seen, just as I am telling you, the preacher transformed into a professional acrobat. I did the swallow trick and somersaults, walked on my hands, tied the pouch around my waist, swallowed coins and then produced them from someone’s nose. I multiplied balls and eggs, changed water into wine, killed and chopped up a chicken and then brought it back to life again so that it crowed better than before. These were part of my stock in trade. I walked the tightrope like an ordinary path, jumped and danced on it. and hung by one foot or one hand, sometimes by two. At the end of it I was tired. A short prayer brought proceedings to a close, and everyone went about his business. (MO Ch. 3).

4.1.7 The Dream Post or Pillar

It was at that age that I had a dream. All my life this remained deeply impressed on my mind. In this dream I seemed to be near my home in a fairly large yard. A crowd of children were playing there. Some were laughing, some were playing games, and quite a few were swearing. When I heard these evil words, I jumped immediately amongst them and tried to stop them by using my words and my fists.
At that moment a dignified man appeared, a nobly dressed adult. He wore a white cloak, and his face shone so that I could not look directly at him. He called me by name, told me to take charge of these children, and added these words: “You will have to win these friends of yours not by blows but by gentleness and love. Start right away to teach them the ugliness of sin and the value of virtue.” Confused and frightened, I replied that I was a poor, ignorant child. I was unable to talk to those youngsters about religion. At that moment the kids stopped their fighting, shouting, and swearing; they gathered round the man who was speaking.
Hardly knowing what I was saying, I asked,
“Who are you, ordering me to do the impossible?”
“Precisely because it seems impossible to you, you must make it possible through obedience and the acquisition of knowledge.”
“Where, by what means, can I acquire knowledge?”
“I will give you a teacher. Under her guidance you can become wise. Without her, all wisdom is foolishness.”
“But who are you that speak so?”
“I am the son of the woman whom your mother has taught you to greet three times a day.”
“My mother tells me not to mix with people I don’t know unless I have her permission. So tell me your name.”
“Ask my mother what my name is.”
At that moment, I saw a lady of stately appearance standing beside him. She was wearing a mantle that sparkled all over as though covered with bright stars. Seeing from my questions and answers that I was more confused than ever, she beckoned me to approach her. She took me kindly by the hand and said, “Look.” Glancing round, I realised that the youngsters had all apparently run away. A large number of goats, dogs, cats, bears, and other animals had taken their place.
“This is the field of your work. Make yourself humble, strong, and energetic. And what you will see happening to these animals in a moment is what you must do for my children.”
I looked round again, and where before I had seen wild animals, I now saw gentle lambs. They were all jumping and bleating as if to welcome that man and lady.
At that point, still dreaming, I began crying. I begged the lady to speak so that I could understand her, because I did not know what all this could mean. She then placed her hand on my head and said, “In good time you will understand everything.”
With that, a noise woke me up and everything disappeared. (MO Ch. 2).

4.1.8 The old Becchi water fountain

4.1.9 Monument to Mama Margaret

4.1.10 Church (Basilica) in honour of Don Bosco

4.1.11 Bernardi Semeria Salesian Institute

4.1.12 The ethnological and missionary museum

4.2 Morialdo

4.2.1 St Dominic Savio’s House

It was a wonderful and never-to-be-forgotten day for him; it was a renewal of his life for God, a life that can be taken as an example by anyone. If one got him to talk about his First Communion several years later, his face lit up with joy and happiness as he said:
“That was the happiest and most wonderful day of my life.”
He made some promises on that day which he preserved carefully in a little book, and often re-read them. He let me have this little book to look at and I give them here just as he wrote them.
Promises made by me, Dominic Savio, when I made my First Communion in 1849 at seven years of age:
I will go often to Confession and I will go to Holy Communion as often as I am allowed.
I will try to give the Sundays and holy days completely to God.
My best friends will be Jesus and Mary.
Death, but not sin.
These promises were the guiding light of his life until he died. (DS Ch. 3).

Murialdo, 5 May 1857

Dear Don Bosco,
You wanted me to write something about the recently deceased Savio, referring to the fact that he lived nearby and attended the school and St Peter’s village church.
I am happy to do this. In the early days when I came to Murialdo I often saw a child maybe five years old or so walking with his mother and they would kneel and pray at the entrance to the little church. I noted the boy’s rare attitude of recollection. Coming and going we would often meet and he greeted me respectfully each time, and I was so struck by this that I wanted to find out who he was and they told me he was the child of Savio, the blacksmith and was known as Minot.
The following year he began attending school. He was regular, obedient and diligent; and since he seemed clever enough, he soon made good progress. His piety, which I had already seen at the entrance to the church when he was praying with his mother, grew with the years and this also helped him quickly pick up how to serve at Mass, and I could say he came almost daily for this. His love for religious functions then led him to also come to serve at Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament and help with the singing — he would come with a school mate and alternate at times with his father. He would practise the hymns at home and in the stable.
He would come to confession a number of times a year, and as soon as he was able to distinguish Bread from bread, he was admitted to Holy Communion, which he received with a devotion that was admirable for such a young lad. He often had to mix with wilder boys but I don’t recall him every having serious problems with them and even less was he ever drawn to follow their example and engage in less savoury or indecent amusements; he wasn’t into stealing the neighbours’ fruit like other would often do, or cause damage, or annoy the elderly or very young.
Seeing him I often said to myself: Here is a boy that offers good hope for the future, as long as he has a chance to get away from here because few of the kids here, boys or girls, do well due to their parents’ laziness, etc. etc. Unfortunately there are too many of these, and experience has given me first-hand examples. It seems the Marquis Breme was right when he said: Parental love, like other love, goes round with its eyes shut and often without realising it causes more harm than good ...
Your dear and devoted friend Fr Zucca.

(From M. Molineris, Nuova vita di Domenico Savio, Colle Don Bosco 1974, pp. 63-64).

4.2.2 St Peter’s church and the little presbytery

I put myself completely into Fr. Calosso’s hands. He had become chaplain at Murialdo only a few months before. I bared my soul to him. Every word, thought, and act I revealed to him promptly. This pleased him because it made it possible for him to have an influence on both my spiritual and temporal welfare.
It was then that I came to realise what it was to have a regular spiritual director. a faithful friend of one’s soul. I had not had one up till then. Amongst other things he forbade a penance I used to practise: he deemed it unsuited to my age and circumstances. He encouraged frequent confession and communion. He taught me how to make a short daily meditation, or more accurately, a spiritual reading. I spent all the time I could with him; I stayed with him on feast days. I went to serve his Mass during the week when I could. From then on 1 began to savour the spiritual life; up to then I had acted in a purely mechanical way, not knowing the reasons. In mid-September, I began a regular study of Italian grammar, and soon I was able to write fairly good compositions, At Christmas I went on to study Latin. By Easter I was attempting Italian-Latin and Latin-Italian translations. All this time I persevered with my usual acrobatics in the field, or in the barn during the winter. Everything my teacher said or did — his every word, I could say — provided edifying material for my audiences. (MO Ch. 4).

Fr Calosso’s death was a great loss to me. I wept inconsolably over my dead benefactor. I thought of him in my waking hours and dreamt of him when I was asleep. It affected me so badly that my mother feared for my health. She sent me for a while to my grandfather in Capriglio. At this time I had another dream. In it I was sorely reproached for having put my hope in men and not in our good heavenly Father. (MO Ch. 6).

It was the second Sunday of October, 1827, and the people of Murialdo were celebrating their patronal feast, the Motherhood of Mary. There was a great air of activity about the place; some were preparing the church, others engaged in family chores; some were playing games, others looking on.
One person I noticed was taking no part in the festivities. He was a slightly-built, bright-eyed cleric, kindly and pure in appearance. He was leaning against the church door. Though I was only twelve years old, I was struck by his appearance and felt I would like to meet him. I went over and spoke to him.
“Father,” I said, “would you care to see what’s going on at our feast? I’d like to act as your guide.”
He kindly beckoned me closer. He asked me how old I was, what studies I had done, if I had made my first communion, how often I went to confession, where I went to catechism, and so on. I was spellbound by his manner of speaking and answered all his questions without hesitation. To show my gratitude for his friendliness, I once more offered to show him round the various entertainments and novelties.
“My dear friend,” he replied, “the entertainments of a priest are church ceremonies. The more devoutly they are celebrated, the more pleasurable do they turn out for us. The new attractions are the practices of religion. These are ever new and therefore should be diligently attended. I’m only waiting for the church to open so I can go in.”
I plucked up my courage to add to the discussion.
“But Father,” I suggested “though what you say is true, there’s a time for everything, a time to pray and a time to play.”
He smiled. But I have never forgotten his parting words, which were his plan of action for his whole life:
“A cleric gives himself to the Lord. Nothing in the world must be more important to him than the greater glory of God and the salvation of souls.” (MO Ch. 6).

At the end of the holidays, I had three situations to choose from. I could have taken a post as tutor in the house of a Genoese gentleman with a salary of a thousand francs a year. The good people of Murialdo were so anxious to have me as their chaplain that they were prepared to double the salary paid to chaplains up to then. Last, I could have become a curate in my native parish. Before I made a final choice, I sought out Fr Caffasso (note: Don Bosco always spelt it this way instead of ‘Cafasso’). For several years now he had been my guide in matters both spiritual and temporal. That holy priest listened to everything, the good money offers, the pressures from relatives and friends, my own goodwill to work. Without a moment’s hesitation, this is what he said: “You need to study moral theology and homiletics. For the present, forget all these offers and come to the Convitto.”

I willingly followed his wise advice; on 3 November 1841, I enrolled at the Convitto. (MO Ch. 27).

He was only five years old when he learned to serve Mass and he always did so with great attention. He tried to be at Mass every day, and if there was someone else serving he would hear Mass from the benches. As he was rather small, he could not reach the missal when it was on the altar. It brought a smile to one’s lips to see him anxiously coming up to the altar, standing on tip-toe and reaching as far as he could in the effort to get hold of the missal-stand. If the priest saying Mass wanted to please him, on no account should he change the missal over himself, but pull the stand right to the edge where Dominic could get hold of it and carry it triumphantly to the other side. (DS Ch. 2).

4.2.3 The Sussambrino hillside

Holidays were dangerous times for clerical students. In those days our summer break ran to four and a half months. I spent my time reading and writing; but not having as yet learnt how to use my days profitably, I wasted many of them in fruitless activity. I tried to kill time by sheer manual labor. On the lathe I turned spindles, pegs, spinning tops, and wooden balls. I made clothes and shoes and I worked wood and iron. To this very day there are in my house at Murialdo a writing desk, a dinner table, and some chairs, masterpieces to remind me of my summer holiday activities. I worked in the fields, too, harvesting hay and wheat. I trimmed the vines, harvested the grapes, and made the wine, and so on. I also found time for my youngsters, as I used to, but this was possible only on feast days. It was a great consolation for me to catechise many of my companions who were sixteen or seventeen years old but were deprived of the truths of the faith. I also taught some of them quite successfully to read and write. They were so anxious to learn that many youngsters of a variety of ages surrounded me. I charged no tuition, but I insisted on diligence, concentration, and monthly confession. At first some were not inclined to accept these conditions. They went their own way, but their departure served to inspire and spur on those who stayed.
I also began to preach and to lecture with the permission of my parish priest, and with his help. (MO Ch. 20).

On the evening before my departure she called me to her and spoke to me these unforgettable words:
“My dear John, you have put on the priestly habit. I feel all the happiness that any mother could feel in her son’s good fortune. Do remember this, however: it’s not the habit that honours your state, but the practice of virtue. If you should ever begin to doubt your It is also worth recalling his discussion with his mother at Sussambrino the day before he entered the seminary:vocation, then — for heaven’s sake! — do not dishonor this habit. Put it aside immediately. I would much rather have a poor farmer for a son, than a priest who neglects his duties.”
“When you came into the world, I consecrated you to the Blessed Virgin. When you began your studies, I recommended to you devotion to this Mother of ours. Now I say to you, be completely hers; love those of your companions who have devotion to Mary; and if you become a priest, always preach and promote devotion to Mary.”
My mother was deeply moved as she finished these words, and I cried.
“Mother,” I replied “I thank you for all you have said and done for me. These words of yours will not prove vain; I will treasure them all my life.” (MO Ch. 18).

4.3 Capriglio

4.3.1 House where Mama Margaret was born

4.3.2 Parish church and Fr Joseph Lacqua’s presbytery

I had reached my ninth year. My mother wanted to send me to school, but she felt very uneasy because of the distance. The distance to Castelnuovo from where we lived was more than three miles; my brother Anthony was opposed to my boarding there. A compromise was eventually agreed upon. During the winter season I would attend school at the nearby village of Capriglio. In this way I was able to learn the basic elements of reading and writing. My teacher was a devout priest called Joseph Delacqua. He was very attentive to my needs, seeing to my instruction and even more to my Christian education. During the summer months I went along with what my brother wanted by working in the fields. (MO Ch. 1).

In Alfiano I preached on the Holy Rosary in the holidays after my year of physics. In Castelnuovo d’Asti, at the end of my first year of theology, I spoke on St Bartholomew the Apostle. In Capriglio I preached about the nativity of Mary. But I do not know how much fruit this bore. Everywhere I got high praise. In fact vainglory somewhat carried me away, till I was brought down to earth as follows:
One day, after my sermon on the birth of Mary, I asked someone who seemed to be one of the more intelligent what he thought of it. He was full of praise for it but spoiled it by saying, “Your sermon was on the souls in purgatory.” And I had preached the glories of Mary! (MO Ch. 20).

4.4 Castelnuovo Don Bosco

4.4.1 St Andrew’s parish church

I was eleven years old when I made my first holy communion. I knew my catechism well. The minimum age for first communion was twelve years. Because we lived far from the parish church, the parish priest did not know us, and my mother had to do almost all the religious instruction. She did not want me to get any older before my admission to that great act of our religion, so she took upon herself the task of preparing me as best she could. She sent me to catechism class every day of Lent. I passed my examination, and the date was fixed. It was the day on which all the children were to make their Easter duty.
In the big crowd, it was impossible to avoid distractions. My mother coached me for days and brought me to confession three times during that Lent.
“My dear John,” she would say “God is going to give you a wonderful gift. Make sure you prepare well for it. Go to confession and don’t keep anything back. Tell all your sins to the priest, be sorry for them all, and promise God to do better in the future.” I promised all that. God alone knows whether I have been faithful to my resolution.
At home, she saw to it that I said my prayers and read good books; and she always came up with the advice which a diligent mother knows how to give her children.
On the morning of my first communion, my mother did not permit me to speak to anyone. She accompanied me to the altar and together we made our preparation and thanksgiving. These were led by Father Sismondi, the vicar forane, in a loud voice, alternating responses with everyone.
It was my mother’s wish for that day that I should refrain from manual work. Instead, she kept me occupied reading and praying. Amongst the many things that my mother repeated to me many times was this: "My dear son, this is a great day for you. I am convinced that God has really taken possession of your heart. Now promise him to be good as long as you live. Go to communion frequently in the future, but beware of sacrilege. Always be frank in confession, be obedient always, go willingly to catechism and sermons. But for the love of God, avoid like the plague those who indulge in bad talk. (MO 42-43).

For the future I will never take part in public shows during fairs or at markets. Nor will I attend dances or the theatre, and as far as possible I will not partake of the dinners usual on such occasions.
I will no longer play games of dice or do conjuring tricks, acrobatics, sleight of hand, tightrope walking. I will give up my violin-playing and hunting. These things I hold totally contrary to ecclesiastical dignity and spirit.
I will love and practise a retiring life, temperance in eating and drinking. I will allow myself only those hours of rest strictly necessary for health.
In the past I have served the world by reading secular literature. Henceforth I will try to serve God by devoting myself to religious reading.
I will combat with all my strength everything, all reading, thoughts, conversations, words, and deeds contrary to the virtue of chastity. On the contrary, I will practise all those things, even the smallest, which contribute to preserving this virtue.
Besides the ordinary practices of piety, I will never neglect to make a little meditation daily and a little spiritual reading.
Every day I will relate some story or some maxim advantageous to the souls of others. I will do this with my companions, friends, relatives, and when I cannot do it with others, I will speak with my mother. (MO 89).

I found the work a great pleasure. I preached every Sunday. I visited the sick and administered the holy sacraments to them, except penance since I had not yet taken the exam. I buried the dead, kept the parish records, wrote out certificates of poverty, and so on. My delight was to make contact with the children and teach them catechism. They used to come from Murialdo to see me, and on my visits home they crowded round me. I was also beginning to make companions and friends in town. Whenever I left the presbytery there was a group of boys, and everywhere I went my little friends gave me a warm welcome. (MO Ch. 26).

4.4.2 The presbytery

4.4.3 The public school

I found lodgings with an upright man, a tailor, John Roberto; he had a taste for singing, especially plain chant. I Since I had a good voice, I took up music wholeheartedly. In a few months, I could go up to the choir loft and sing the solo parts. Eager to use my free time, I took up tailoring. Before long I was able to make buttonholes and hems and sew simple and double seams. Later I learned how to cut out underwear, waistcoats, trousers, and coats. I fancied myself already a master tailor. (MO Ch. 6).

4.4.4 St Bartholomew’s chapel

4.4.5 The church of “Our lady of the Castle”

4.5 Mondonio

4.5.1 Dominic Savio’s house

He said some prayers with the boy and then as he was about to go Dominic said to him:
“Father, before going, leave me a parting thought to keep with me.”
“Really I don’t know what to suggest.”
“Something that will strengthen and comfort me.”
“All right; try to keep in mind the Passion of Our Saviour.”
“Deo gratias,” replied Dominic, “May the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ be always in my mind and heart and on my lips. Jesus, Mary and Joseph help me now when I am dying; Jesus, Mary and Joseph, may I die at peace with you.”
After that he fell asleep for half an hour. When he woke up he looked round him and said:
“Dad, are you there?”
“Here I am son, what do you want?”

“Dad, it is time; get my The Companion of Youth. He was indicating a book addressed entirely to young people, with the title: The Companion of Youth in fulfilling their duties, for the exercises of Christian piety, for reciting the Office of the Blessed Virgin, Vespers throughout the year, etc. and read me the prayers for the Exercise of a Happy Death.”

At these words his mother burst into tears and hurried from the room. His father’s eyes filled with tears, but choking back his sobs, he got the book and read the prayers. As he went through them Dominic answered clearly.
“Merciful Jesus, have mercy on me .... .”
When his father reached the final part which runs: “When for the first time my soul will see the wonderful majesty of God, do not drive it away, but take it to heaven to sing your praises for all eternity . . .” he said:
“Yes, Dad — that is what I want so much, to sing the praises of Jesus for all eternity.”
He dropped off to sleep again, but it was like he was reflecting on things of great importance. He awoke after a short while. Then in a clear voice he said:
“Goodbye, Dad, goodbye … what was it the parish priest suggested to me ... I don’t seem to remember ... Oh, what wonderful things I see ....”
And so saying, with a beautiful smile on his face, and his hands joined on his breast he gave up his soul to God without any struggle. (DS Ch.24)

4.5.2 Parish church and school

4.5.3 Cemetery chapel

4.6 Buttiglieri d’Asti

4.6.1 Parish church

That year (1826) there was a solemn mission in Buttigliera. It gave me a chance to hear several sermons, The preachers were well known and drew people from everywhere. I went with many others. We had an instruction and a meditation in the evening, after which we were free to return home. On one of these April evenings [note: although we know now that it was actually in November], as I was making my way home amid the crowd, one of those who walked along with us was Fr Calosso of Chieri, a very devout priest. Although he was old and bent, he made the long walk to hear the missioners. He was the chaplain of Murialdo. He noticed a capless, curly-headed lad amidst the others but walking in complete silence. He looked me over and then began to talk with me:
“Where are you from, my son? I gather you were at the mission?”
“Yes, Father, I went to hear the missioners’ sermons.”
“Now, what could you understand of it? I’m sure your mother could give you a better sermon, couldn’t she?”
“Yes, my mother does give me fine instructions. But I like to hear the missioners as well. And I think I understand them.”
“If you can remember anything from this evening’s sermons, I’ll give you two pence.”
“Just tell me whether you wish to hear the first sermon, or the second.”
“Just as you wish,” he said, “as long as you tell me anything from it. Do you remember what the first sermon was about?”
“It was about the necessity of giving oneself to God in good time and not putting off one’s conversion.”
“And what was in the sermon?” the venerable old man asked, somewhat surprised,
“Oh, I remember quite well. If you wish I will recite it all.”
Without further ado, I launched into the preamble and went on to the three points. The preacher stressed that it was risky to put off conversion because one could run out of time, or one might lack the grace or the will to make the change. There, amidst the crowd, he let me rattle on for half an hour. Then came a flurry of questions from Father Calosso:
“What’s your name? Who are your family? How much schooling have you had?”
“My name is John Bosco. My father died when I was very young. My mother is a widow with a family of five to support. I’ve learned to read, and to write a little.”
“You haven’t studied Donato or grammar, have you?”
“I don’t know what they are, Father.”
“Would you like to study?”
“Oh, indeed I would.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“My brother Anthony.”
“And why doesn’t Anthony want you to study?”
“Because he never liked school himself. He says he doesn’t want anyone else to waste time on books the way he did. But if I could only get to school, I would certainly study and not waste time.”
“Why do you want to study?”
“I’d like to become a priest.”
“And why do you want to become a priest?”
“I’d like to attract my companions, talk to them, and teach them our religion. They’re not bad, but they become bad because they have no one to guide them.”
These bold words impressed the holy priest. He never took his eyes off me while I was speaking. When our ways parted, he left me with these words:
“Cheer up now. I’ll provide for you and your education. Come to see me on Sunday with your mother. We’ll arrange something.”
The following Sunday my mother and I went along to see him. He undertook to take me for one lesson a day. (MO Ch. 4).

After Mass he and another priest ... went (Archbishop Gianotti, that is) to the presbytery to have a coffee; then he came back to the church vested in a surplice – it was so hot – with mitre and crozier, and they sang the Veni Creator then said a few prayers for those about to be confirmed, and the ceremony began.

There were two groups: the first made up of people from Buttigliera, lasted from 8 until 11 or longer; the second session began at 11.30 after the Archbishop had taken a short break at the noble woman’s home (note: Countess Melyna), and finished at 2 in the afternoon. The number confirmed was 1335, of whom 618 are from Buttigliera, 467 from Castelnuovo, 184 from Moriondo and the rest from other villages and towns. (From E. Gramaglia [ed.], La Cresima di Don Bosco a Buttigliera, in Grandangolo 4 [1987] 3, p. 3).

4.6.2 Buttigliera’s connection with Don Bosco and the Salesian Family

4.6.3 The Càmpora farm

4.6.4 Crivelle

It was the feast of St Bartholomew. I was invited by another uncle to assist at the church services, to sing, and even to play the violin, which I had given up, though it was my favourite instrument. The church services went very well. My uncle was in charge of the celebrations, and the dinner was at his house. So far, so good. Dinner over, the guests asked me to play something of a light nature for them. I refused. “At least,” one of the musicians said “play along with me. I’ll take the lead, and you play the accompaniment.”
Wretch that I was! I did not have it in me to say no. Taking up the violin, I played for a while. Then I heard the murmur of voices and the sound of a lot of dancing feet. I went to the window, and out in the courtyard was a crowd dancing happily to the sound of my violin. Words could not describe the anger that welled up in me at that moment. Turning on the dinner guests, I addressed them vehemently: “How is it, after I have so often spoken against public shows, that I should have become their promoter? It will never happen again.” I smashed the violin into a thousand pieces. I never wanted to use it again, though opportunities for doing so were not lacking at sacred ceremonies.”(MO Ch. 21).

4.7 Moncucco and the Moglia Farm

4.7.1 The Moglia homestead

4.7.2 The church at Moncucco

4.8 San Giovanni di Riva

4.8.1 Dominic Savio’s birthplace

4.8.2 The youth centre

Part II. JOHN BOSCO AT CHIERI

5 FACTS AND THEIR SIGNIFICANCE

5.1 The ten years at Chieri in Don Bosco’s life

1.2. Emerging pedagogical and spiritual values

• Study and culture are an essential ascetic process in building up one’s personality, especially when pursued with constant and daily fidelity.
• Manual work and personal initiative in actively cooperating with parents’ concerns.
• Sport, play, active life with a wise dose of duty — for physical development and spiritual and psychological harmony.
• Friendships that are well-chosen and enriching; being part of a group, shared interests; mutual help, making one’s gifts available to others.
• Friendly relationships with significant adults who can be teachers and models of life and values.
• Choice of a regular confessor with whom we have frequent and confident encounters.
• The humility to question oneself and ask advice on important questions regarding one’s future. A solid life of prayer with established times for prayer and personal meditation each day.
• Weekly and even daily Mass.
• Devotion to Our Lady, mother, help and model of life.
• The energy to discern God’s will and one’s vocation in life, the mission God wants to entrust to us.

6 HISTORICAL, GEOGRAPHICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES

6.1 John Bosco comes to Chieri

6.2 Chronological table

6.3 Suggestions for visits and tours

7 TOURS AND VISITS

7.1 San Luigi Salesian Institute and St Margaret’s Church

7.1.1 School

7.1.2 St Margaret’s church

7.1.3 Salesian Oratory

7.2 Birthplace of Mother Madeleine Morano

7.3 Church and Monastery of St Dominic

7.4 Via della Pace

7.4.1 Elijah’s bookshop

In Year Four Secondary I began reading Italian authors. In my Rhetoric year I began studying the Latin classics and began reading Cornelius Nipote, Cicero, Salustio (sic), Quinto Curzio, Livid, Tacitus, Ovid, Virgil, Horace and others. I was reading these books for enjoyment and felt that I had fully understood them. It was only later I became aware that this was not true, because when I became a priest and began explaining these famous classics to other I began to see that only with so much study and preparation could we begin to understand their meaning and beauty. (MO Ch. 15).

7.4.2 Jonah’s house

7.4.3 Franciscan monastery and the church of Peace

So the end of the rhetoric year I approached, the time when students usually think about their vocations. The dream I had had in Murialdo was deeply imprinted on my mind; in fact it had recurred several times more in ever clearer terms, so that if I wanted to put faith in it I would have to choose the priesthood towards which I actually felt inclined. But I did not want to believe dreams, and my own manner of life, certain habits of my heart, and the absolute: lack of the virtues necessary to that state, filled me with doubts and made the decision very difficult.
Oh, if only I had had a guide to care for my vocation! What a great treasure he would have been for me; but I lacked that treasure. I had a good confessor who sought to make me a good Christian, but who never chose to get involved in the question of my vocation.
Thinking things over myself, after reading some books which dealt with the choice of a state in life, I decided to enter the Franciscan Order. “If I become a secular priest,” I told myself, “my vocation runs a great risk of shipwreck. I will embrace the priesthood, renounce the world, enter the cloister, and dedicate myself to study and meditation; thus in solitude I will be able to combat my passions, especially my pride,” which had put down deep roots in my heart. So I applied to enter the Reformed Conventuals. I took the examination and was accepted. All was ready for my entry into Chieri’s Monastery of Peace. A few days before I was due to enter, I had a very strange dream. I seemed to see a multitude of these friars, clad in threadbare habits, all dashing about helter-skelter. One of them came up to me and said: “You’re looking for peace, but you won’t find it here. See what goes on! God’s preparing another place, another harvest for you.” I wanted to question this religious but a noise awakened me and I saw nothing more. (MO Ch. 16).

7.5 Seminary and St Philip Neri Church

7.5.1 The seminary

Given our friendship and the unlimited trust between Comollo and me, we often spoke about the separation that death could possibly bring upon us at any time. One day, after we had read a long passage from the lives of the saints, we talked, half in jest and half in earnest, of what a consolation it would be if the one of us who died first were to return with news about his condition. We talked of this so often that we drew up this contract: “Whichever of us is the first to die will, if God permits it, bring back word of his salvation to his surviving companion.” ...
Comollo died on 2 April 1839. Next evening he was solemnly buried in Saint Filippo’s Church ... That night, after I went to bed in the big dormitory which I shared with some twenty other seminarians, I was restless. I was convinced that this was to be the night when our promise would be fulfilled. About 11:30 a deep rumble was heard in the corridor. It sounded as if a heavy wagon drawn by many horses were coming up to the dormitory door. It got louder and louder, like thunder, and the whole dormitory shook. The clerics tumbled out of bed in terror and huddled together for comfort. Then, above the violent and thundering noise, the voice of Comollo was heard clearly. Three times he repeated very distinctly: Bosco, I am saved. All heard the noise; some recognised the voice without understanding the meaning; others understood it as well as I did, as is proved by the length of time the event was talked about in the seminary. It was the first time in my life I remember being afraid. The fear and terror were so bad that I fell ill and was at death’s door. (MO Ch. 22).

The game known as Bara rotta was the most popular game we played. I used to play it in the beginning, but since this game was very similar to those acrobatics which I had absolutely given up, I wanted to give this up too. There was another game called tarots which was permitted on certain days, and for a while I also played this game. Even here sweetness and bitterness intermingled ... I should add that my mind would become so fixed during a game that afterwards I could neither pray nor study. The troubling images of the King of Clubs and the Jack of Spades, the 13 or 15 of tarots filled my imagination. So I resolved to give up this game as I had given up the others. This was in 1836, mid-way through my second year of philosophy.
In the longer recreation periods, the seminarians went for walks to the many delightful places round Chieri. These walks were useful for learning too. We tried to improve our academic knowledge by quizzing one another as we walked ...
During the long recreations, we often gathered in the refectory for what we called the “study circle.” At this session, one could ask questions about things he did not know or had not grasped in our lectures or lessons. I liked this exercise and found it very helpful for study, piety, and health ....
Comollo often interrupted my recreation time, l leading me by the sleeve of my cassock and telling me to come along with him to the chapel. There we would make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament for the dying, saying the rosary or the Little Office of Our Lady for the souls in purgatory. (MO Ch. 19).

In the second year of theology I was made sacristan. It was not a post that carried much weight, but it showed one was appreciated by the superiors and it did carry with it another sixty francs (note: discount on seminary fees). All this meant that I could provide for half my fees, while good Fr Caffasso provided the rest ...

This was the year in which I had the good fortune of making the acquaintance of a man who was really zealous in the sacred ministry. He had come to preach our seminary retreat. He appeared in the sacristy with a smiling face and a joking manner of speaking, but always seasoned with moral thoughts. When I saw the way he celebrated Mass, his bearing, his preparation, and his thanksgiving, I realized at once that here was a worthy priest. He turned out to be Fr John Borrelli (note: Don Bosco always wrote the name of his great friend and collaborator this way) from Turin. When he began to preach, I noted the simplicity, liveliness, clarity, and fire of charity that filled all his words; we were unanimous in rating him a man of real holiness.

In fact we all raced to go to confession to him in order to speak of our vocations and receive some advice. I too wanted to discuss the affairs of my soul with him. When, at the end, I asked him for some advice on how best to preserve the spirit of my vocation during the year and particularly during the holidays, he left these memorable words with me: “A vocation is perfected and preserved, and a real priestly spirit is formed, by a climate of recollection and by frequent communion.” (MO Ch. 23).

With this in mind and without telling anyone, I presented myself to Archbishop Fransoni to ask permission to study the fourth-year texts during the holidays. In the following school year (1840-1) I would complete the quinquennium. I quoted my advanced age — I was 24 — as the reason for my request. The holy Bishop ... granted the favour I was asking on condition that I take all the treatises in the course I wanted to take. Fr Cinzano, my vicar forane, was charged with carrying out the wishes of our superior. After two months of study, I finished the prescribed treatises, and for the autumn ordinations I was admitted to the subdiaconate. (MO Ch. 25).

I found the day I had to leave the seminary for the last time very difficult. My superiors loved me and showed continual marks of benevolence. My companions were very affectionate towards me. You could say that I lived for them and they lived for me. If anyone wanted a shave or his tonsure renewed, he ran to Bosco. If he wanted someone to make a biretta for him, to sew or patch his clothes, Bosco was the man he turned to. So you can imagine how sad was the parting from that place where I had lived for six years, where I received education, knowledge, an ecclesiastical spirit, and all the tokens of kindness and affection one could desire. (MO Ch. 25).

7.5.2 S. Filippo (St Philip’s) church

7.6 Piazza Mazzini and adjacent buildings

7.6.1 S. Guglielmo (St William’s) church

7.6.2 Fr Maloria’s house

I had the great good fortune of choosing as my regular confessor Doctor Maloria, canon of the chapter in Chieri. He always had a warm welcome for me. Indeed, he encouraged me to go to confession and communion more often, advice not too commonly given in those days, I do not remember that any of my teachers ever advised me along these lines. Those who went to confession and communion more than once a month were considered very virtuous; and many confessors would not permit it. Consequently, I have to thank my confessor if I was not led by companions into certain unfortunate pitfalls that inexperienced boys in large schools have to regret. (MO Ch 9).

7.6.3 Casa Marchisio where Lucia Matta lived

All this time I had to use my own initiative to learn how to deal with my companions. I put them in three groups: the good, the indifferent, and the bad. As soon as I spotted the bad ones, I avoided them absolutely and always. The indifferent I associated with only when necessary, but I was always courteous with them. I made friends with the good ones, and then only when I was sure of them. As I knew few people in the town, I made it a rule to keep to myself. I sometimes had to discourage people I did not know too well. Some wanted to get me to a show, others into some gambling, and still others to go swimming. And there were suggestions that I should steal fruit from the town gardens or country orchards ...
Since the companions who tried to coax me into their escapades were the most careless about everything, they began to come to me with the request that I do them the kindness of lending them my homework or dictating it to them. The teachers frowned on this. They said that it was a false kindness that only encouraged laziness, and they strictly forbade me to do it. I then resorted to less obvious ways of helping them, such as explaining problems to them and lending a helping hand to those who needed it. Thus I made everyone happy and won the goodwill and affection of my companions. At first they came to play, then to listen to stories or to do their homework, and finally for no reason at all, just as the boys at Murialdo and Castelnuovo used to do. That these gatherings might have a name, we called ourselves the Society for a Good Time. There was a reason for the name, because everyone was obliged to look for such books, discuss such subjects, or play such games as would contribute to the happiness of the members. Whatever would induce sadness was forbidden, especially things contrary to God’s law. Those who swore, used God’s name in vain, or indulged in bad talk were turned away from the club at once.
So it was that I found myself the leader of a crowd of companions. Two basic rules were adopted:
(1) Each member of the Society for a Good Time should avoid language and actions unbecoming a good Christian;
(2) Exactness in the performance of scholastic and religious duties ...
During the week, the Society for a Good Time used to meet at the home of one of the members to talk about religious matters. Anyone was welcome to come to these gatherings. Garigliano and Braje were amongst the most conscientious. We entertained ourselves with some pleasant recreation, with discussions on religious topics, spiritual reading, and prayer. We exchanged good advice, and if there were any personal corrections we felt we should hand out to each other, whether these were our own personal observations or criticisms we had heard others make, we did that. (MO Ch 8.9).

7.6.4 The former City Hall

7.6.5 Carpenter Barzochino’s shop

7.7 Public schools, Chieri

• spiritual reading for the first quarter of an hour;
• the Veni Creator was sung;
• “Nocturn” and reading, then the “Ambrosian hymn” (the Te Deum) from the Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary;
• Mass;
• Litany of Our Lady (sung);
• religious instruction;
• the psalm Laudate Dominum omnes gentes, with chorus and “prayer for his Majesty”.

• spiritual reading for the first quarter of an hour;
• “usual prayers with acts of faith, hope and charity and contrition”;
• catechism for three quarters of an hour.

• introduction (Friday evening);
• four talks a day (two ‘meditations’ and two ‘instructions’);
• daily Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary;
• conclusion on Wednesday with the Easter Communion.

This strict discipline produced wonderful results. Even years could pass without you hearing a blasphemy or bad talk. Pupils were obedient and respectful both during school time and at home with their families. And it often happened that in the large classes everyone was promoted to the next grade at the end of the year. In third, Humanities and Rhetoric, all my class mates were promoted ....
I want to note one thing here that will certainly enable us to understand how the spirit of piety was nurtured in the college in Chieri. Over the four years that I attended these schools I never recall hearing a conversation or even a word out of place or against religion. When the Rhetoric year was over, out of 25 pupils in that group, 21 embraced the ecclesiastical state; three became doctors, one a businessman. (MO 64; 86).

7.8 Piazza Cavour and surrounds

7.8.1 Church of sant’Antonio abate (St Anthony Abbot)

7.8.2 Muletto Inn

7.8.3 Caffè Pianta

7.8.4 Tommaso Cumino’s house

7.8.5 Michele Cavallo the baker’s stable

7.9 The Cathedral (Duomo)

Since there were many difficult obstacles, I decided to tell Comollo everything. He advised me to make a novena during which he would write to his uncle who was a parish priest. On the last day of the novena together with my incomparable friend I went to Confession and Communion, then heard Mass, and served another at the Cathedral at the Altar of Our Lady of Graces. Then when we got home we found a letter from Fr Comollo put in these terms: Having carefully considered what you have told me, I would advise your friend to delay entering a monastery. Let him take on the clerical garb, and as he continues his studies he will better come to know what God wants of him. Let him have no fear of losing his vocation, since through recollection and the practices of piety he will overcome all obstacles. (MO Ch. 16).

7.10 Casa Bertinetti, Santa Teresa Institute

7.11 The former Viale Porta Torino

Part III. DON BOSCO IN TURIN

8 FACTS AND THEIR SIGNIFICANCE

8.1 Further studies and pastoral option

8.2 Emerging pedagogical and spiritual values

• Constantly seeking and discerning God’s will in our life and in the mission he entrusts us with.
• Unflagging concern for personal growth as relational, cultural, spiritual, professional human beings.
• Frequent confession and spiritual direction as opportunities for advice, reviewing our life, discernment and restoring spiritual energies.
• Awareness of the radical nature of the choice we have made and the unconditional dedication that follows from this.
• Being anchored in history and faithful to our time; able to read the ‘signs of the times’ and focus on the appeals that come from events and people.
• Giving timely, practical responses to the needs of the moment along with intelligently seeking aims and long-term strategies.
• The central place of the youngster taken as a whole and the focus on the individual in formation.
• Taking a preventive approach to the world of young people.
• ‘Loving kindness’: willingness to develop friendship, familiarity and sympathetic understanding between the educator and those being educated.
• The important role of religion in forming personality: a simple, rationally motivated, freely accepted and gradually internalised kind of religion.
• Ability to involve young people and adults in educational and pastoral activity, in the belief that education and formation are the work of a community.
• Belief in the decisive role of cultural formation and ideas for personal growth to maturity with a view to seeing the individual engaged in both society and Church.
• Cheerfulness, play, festivity as essential elements for building a personality and in an educational and formation setting.

9 HISTORICAL, GEOGRAPHICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES

9.1 Social and pastoral problems in Turin in the 1840s

9.2 Chronological table

9.3 Suggestions for visits and tours

10 TOURS AND VISITS

10.1 Church of the Visitation

10.1.1 3.1.1. Priests of the Mission house

For the autumn ordinations (note: 19th of September 1840) I was admitted to the subdiaconate. When I think now of the virtues required for that most important step, I am convinced that I was not sufficiently prepared for it. But since I had no one to care directly for my vocation, I turned to Fr Caffasso. He advised me to go forward and trust in his advice. I made a ten-day retreat at the House of the Mission in Turin. During it I made a general confession so that my confessor would have a clear picture of my conscience and would be able to give me suitable advice. (MO Ch 25)

I began the retreat at the House of the Mission on 26 May, the Feast of St Philip Neri 1841 ...
Conclusion I drew at the end of the retreat in preparation for my first Mass was: The priest does not go either to heaven or hell alone. If he does well he goes to heaven with the souls he has saved through his good example; if he does badly, gives scandal he goes to perdition with the souls damned through his scandal.
Resolutions:
1. Never go for walks unless seriously necessary: visit the sick etc.
2. Use time well.
3. Suffer, act and accept humiliations in everything and always if it is a case of saving souls.
4. The charity and kindness of St Francis de Sales will guide me in everything.
5. I will always be happy with the food that is put in front of me unless it is harmful to my health.
6. I will water down my wine and drink it only as a remedy: meaning only when and as much as is needed for my health.
7. Work is a powerful weapon against the soul’s enemies, therefore I will not give my body more than five hours of sleep every night. During the day, especially after lunch, I will not take a rest. I will make some exception if ill.
8. Every day I will give some time to meditation and spiritual reading. During the day I will make a brief visit or at least a prayer to the Blessed Sacrament. I will give at least a quarter of an hour to preparation and another quarter of an hour of thanksgiving to Holy Mass.
9. I will not engage in conversations with women outside of confession or some other spiritual need.

(F. Motto [Ed.], Memorie dal 1841 al 1884-5-6 pel Sac. Gio. Bosco a’ suoi figliuoli Salesiani, in RSS 4 [1985] 88–90).

10.1.2 Church of the Visitation

10.2 Church of the Arcivescovado

Knowing that I had always proceeded with the consent of the archbishop, he (note: Marquis Cavour)called a city council meeting at the archbishop’s residence because that prelate was rather ill just then ...
When I saw all those dignitaries assembled in that hall, I thought I was at the last judgement. There was much discussion for and against, but in the end they decided that these meetings absolutely should be blocked and dispersed because they threatened public order ...
Count Cottolengo had listened in silence to the whole lively debate. When he observed that they were resolved on the banning order and final break-up, he got to his feet and requested the floor. He conveyed the sovereign’s wishes and let them know that the king meant to protect this tiny work.
These words silenced the vicar and silenced the city council.(MO Ch. 41).

10.3 St Francis of Assisi

10.3.1 The church and St Francis’ monastery

10.3.2 The Convitto Ecclesiastico or Pastoral Institute

The Convitto Ecclesiastico completed, you might say, the study of theology. In the seminary we studied only dogma, and that speculative; and in moral theology only controversial issues. Here one learnt to be a priest. Meditation, spiritual reading, two conferences a day, lessons in preaching, a secluded life, every convenience for study, reading good authors - these were the areas of learning to which we had to apply ourselves. (MO Ch. 27).

An unselfish man, rich in knowledge, prudent, and fearless, he was everyone’s friend in the days of the regime of Napoleon I... Amongst other topics the most controversial was the question of Probabilism and Probabiliorism (note: two schools of moral interpretation, one less the other more rigorous)...
Fr Dr Guala took a strong stance between the two parties; starting from the principle that the charity of O.L.J.C. should be the inspiration of all systems, he was able to bring the two extremes together. Things came together so well that, thanks to Doctor Guala, St Alphonsus become our theological patron. This was a salutary step, long desired, and now we are reaping its benefit. (MO Ch. 27).

Fr Caffasso, who for six years had been my guide, was also my spiritual director. If I have been able to do any good, I owe it to this worthy priest in whose hands I placed every decision I made, all my study, and every activity of my life. (MO Ch. 27).

The first thing he did was to begin to take me to the prisons where I soon learned how great was the malice and misery of mankind. I saw large numbers of young lads aged from 12 to 18, fine healthy youngsters, alert of mind, but seeing them idle there, infested with lice, lacking food for body and soul, horrified me... What shocked me most was to see that many of them were released full of good resolutions to go straight, and yet in a short time they landed back in prison, within a few days of their release.
On such occasions I found out how quite a few were brought back to that place; it was because they were abandoned to their own resources. “Who knows?” I thought to myself, “if these youngsters had a friend outside who would take care of them, help them, teach them religion on feast days ... Who knows but they could be steered away from ruin, or at least the number of those who return to prison could be lessened?” I talked this idea over with Fr Caffasso. With his encouragement and inspiration I began to work out in my mind how to put the idea into practice, leaving to the Lord’s grace what the outcome would be. Without God’s grace, all human effort is vain. (MO Ch. 27).

Hardly had I registered at the ’Convitto’ of St Francis, when I met at once a crowd of boys who followed me in the streets and the squares and even into the sacristy of the church attached to the institute. But I could not take direct care of them since I had no premises. (MO Ch. 28).

On the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of Mary (8 December 1841), I was vesting to celebrate holy Mass at the appointed time. Joseph Comotti, the sacristan, seeing a boy in a corner, asked him to come and serve my Mass.
“I don’t know how,” he answered, completely embarrassed.
“Come on,” repeated the sacristan, “I want you to serve Mass.”
“I don’t know how,” the boy repeated. “I’ve never served Mass.”
“You big blockhead,” said the sacristan, quite furious, “if you don’t know how to serve Mass, what are you doing in the sacristy?”
With that he grabbed a feather duster and hit the poor boy about the head and shoulders.
As the boy beat a hasty retreat, I cried loudly, “What are you doing? Why are you beating him like that? What’s he done?”
“Why is he hanging round the sacristy if he doesn’t know how to serve Mass?”
“But you’ve done wrong.”
“What does it matter to you?”
“It matters plenty. He’s a friend of mine. Call him back at once. I need to speak with him.”

“Tuder, tuder” he began to shout, as he ran after him. Promising him better treatment, he brought the lad back to me. He came over trembling and tearful because of the blows he had received.

“Have you attended Mass yet?” I asked him with as much loving kindness as I could.
“No” he answered.
“Well, come to Mass now. Afterwards I’d like to talk to you about something that will please you.”
He promised to do as I said. I wanted to calm down the poor fellow’s spirit and not leave him with that sad impression towards the people in charge of that sacristy. Once I had celebrated my Mass and made due thanksgiving, I took my candidate into a side chapel. Trying to allay any fear he might have of another beating, I started questioning him cheerfully:
“My good friend, what’s your name?”
“My name’s Bartholomew Garelli.”
“Where are you from?”
“Asti.”

“Is your father alive?”

“No, my father’s dead.”
“And your mother?”
“My mother’s dead too.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m sixteen.”
“Can you read and write?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Have you made your first communion?”
“Not yet.”
“Have you ever been to confession?”
“Yes, when I was small.”
“Are you going to catechism classes now?”
“I don’t dare.”
“Why?”
“Because the other boys are smaller than I am, and they know their catechism. As big as I am, I don’t know anything, so I’m ashamed to go.”
“If I were to teach you catechism on your own, would you come?”
“I’d come very willingly.”
“Would you come willingly to this little room?”
“I’d come willingly enough, provided they don’t beat me.”
“Relax. No one will harm you. On the contrary, you’ll be my friend and you’ll be dealing with me and no one else. When would you like us to begin our catechism?”
“Whenever you wish.”
“This evening?”
“Okay.”
“Are you willing right now?”
“Yes, right now, with great pleasure.”
I stood up and made the sign of the cross to begin; but my pupil made no response because he did not know how to do it. In that first catechism lesson I taught him to make the sign of the cross. I also taught him to know God the Creator and why he created us. (MO Ch. 28).

Our Oratory programme ran along these lines. On every feast day, the boys were given a chance to receive the holy sacraments of confession and communion. But one Saturday and Sunday each month was set aside for fulfilling this religious duty. We came together in the evening at a fixed time, sang a hymn, had a catechism lesson followed by a story, and then the distribution of something, sometimes to all, sometimes by lot...
Good Doctor Guala and Fr Caffasso enjoyed these assemblies of the children. They gladly supplied me with holy pictures, leaflets, pamphlets, medals, small crucifixes to give as gifts. At times they provided me with the means to clothe some of those in greater need, and to feed others for weeks at a time until they were able to support themselves by their work. Moreover, as the boys’ numbers grew they sometimes gave me permission to gather my little army in the adjoining courtyard for recreation. If space had allowed, we would have been a hundred; but we had to restrict ourselves to about eighty.
When the boys were preparing for the holy sacraments, Dr Guala and Fr Caffasso would always come along for a visit and tell some edifying story. (MO Ch. 29).

I went to visit them at work in their workshops, in the factories. Not only the youngsters were happy to see a friend taking care of them; their employers were pleased, gladly retaining youngsters who were helped during the week, and even more on feast days, when they are in greater danger.
On Saturdays, my pockets stuffed sometimes with tobacco, sometimes with fruit, sometimes with rolls, I used to go to the prisons. with the object always to give special attention to the youngsters who had the misfortune to find themselves behind bars, help them, make friends with them, and thus encourage them to come to the Oratory when they had the good fortune of leaving that place of punishment. (MO Ch. 29).

I was beginning to learn from experience that if young lads just released from their place of punishment could find someone to befriend them, to look after them, to assist them on feast days, to help them get work with good employers, to visit them occasionally during the week, these young men soon forgot the past and began to mend their ways. They became good Christians and honest citizens. (MO Ch. 28).

One day Don Caffasso took me aside and said,
“Now that you’ve finished your studies, you must get to work. These days the harvest is abundant enough. What is your particular bent?”
“Whatever you would like to point me towards.”
“There are three posts open: curate at Buttigliera d’Asti, tutor in moral theology here at the Convitto, and director at the little hospital beside the Refuge. Which would you choose?”
“Whatever you judge best.”
“Don’t you feel any preference for one thing rather than for another?”
“My inclination is to work for young people. So do with me whatever you want: I shall know the Lord’s will in whatever you advise.”
“At the moment what’s the wish nearest your heart? What’s on your mind?”
“At this moment I see myself in the midst of a multitude of boys appealing to me for help.”
“Then go away for a few weeks’ holiday. When you come back I’ll tell you your destination.”
I came back from the holiday, but for several weeks Fr never said a word. And I asked him nothing. One day he said to me,
“Why don’t you ask me about your destination?”
“Because I want to see the will of God in your choice, and I don’t want my desires in it at all.”

“Pack your bag and go with Dr Borrelli (note: Fr Borel); You’ll be director at the Little Hospital of St Philomena; and you will also work at the Refuge. Meanwhile God will show you what you have to do for the young.” (MO Ch. 30).

10.4 Don Bosco and the works run by Marchioness Barolo

From the first moment that I met Dr Borrelli, I always judged him to be a holy priest, a model worthy of admiration and imitation. Every time I was able to be with him, he always gave me lessons in priestly zeal, always good advice, encouraging me in doing good. During my three years at the Convitto, he often invited me to help at the sacred ceremonies, hear confessions, or preach for him. Thus I already knew and was somewhat familiar with my field of work.
We often had long discussions about procedures to be followed in order to help each other in visiting the prisons, fulfilling the duties entrusted to us, and at the same time helping the youngsters whose moral condition and neglect drew the priests’ attention everyday more.”(MO Ch. 30).

10.4.1 Palazzo Barolo

10.4.2 Don Bosco’s Oratory at the Refuge

A little after noon a mob of youngsters of all ages and conditions descended on Valdocco looking for the new Oratory.
“Where’s the Oratory? Where’s Don Bosco?” they shouted to all and sundry. No one knew what they were talking about. No one in that neighbourhood had heard of either Don Bosco or the Oratory. The questioners, believing that they were being teased, raised their voices more insistently. The locals, believing that they were being insulted, shouted indignant threats. Matters were getting serious when Dr Borrelli and I heard the commotion and came out of the house. At sight of us, the noise died down and calm was restored. The boys crowded round us asking where the Oratory was.
We had to tell them that the real Oratory was not ready yet, but meantime they could come to my room. It was quite big and would serve us well enough. In fact things went quite well that Sunday. But on the following Sunday, so many pupils from the locality came in addition to the old ones that I no longer knew where to gather them. My room, the corridor, the stairs were all thronged with children. On the Feast of All Saints Dr Borrelli and I prepared to hear confessions but everybody wanted to go. What could we do? There were more than two hundred children but only two confessors. One boy was trying to light the fire; another decided to put it out. The one brought wood, the other water. Buckets, tongs, shovel, jug, basin, chairs, shoes, books — everything was turned topsy-turvy while they were trying to tidy things up! “We can’t go on like this,” said the dear Doctor. “We really must find a more suitable place.” Yet we spent six feast days in that restricted space, which was the room above the main entrance hall of the Refuge. (MO Ch. 32).

10.4.3 Don Bosco’s Oratory at St Philomena’s

That was the site Divine Providence chose for the first Oratory church. We began to call it after St Francis de Sales for two reasons: 1. because Marchioness Barolo had in mind to found a congregation of priests under his patronage, and with this intention she had a painting of this saint done, which can still be seen at the entrance to this area, and 2. because we had put our own ministry, which called for great calm and meekness, under the protection of this saint in the hope that he might obtain for us from God the grace of being able to imitate him in his extraordinary meekness and in winning souls. We had a further reason for placing ourselves under the protection of this saint: that from heaven he might help us to imitate him in combating errors against religion, especially Protestantism, which was beginning to gain ground in our provinces, and more especially in the city of Turin. (MO Ch. 32).

10.5 The Wandering Oratory

10.5.1 The Oratory at St Peter in Chains

... It was an easy matter for us, especially since we had the backing of the archbishop, to get permission to hold our meetings in the church and courtyard of the Cemetery of Christ Crucified, popularly known as St Peter in Chains ... The long portico, the spacious yard, and the church for our sacred functions all so aroused the youngsters’ enthusiasm that they were overcome with joy.
But in that place we came up against a formidable and unexpected arrival. This was not the ghost of one of the great numbers of the dead who slept peacefully in the nearby tombs. This was a living person, the chaplain’s housekeeper. No sooner had she heard the pupils singing and talking, and, let us admit, their shouting too, than she rushed out of the house. In a furious rage, with her bonnet askew and her arms akimbo, she launched into tongue lashing the crowd of merrymakers. Joining in her assault upon us were a small girl, a dog, a cat, all the hens, so that it seemed that a European war was about to break out. I tried to approach her to calm her down, pointing out to her that the kids meant no harm, that they were just playing innocently. Then she turned and gave it to me.
At that point I decided to end the recreation. I gave a short catechism lesson, and after we recited the rosary in church, we broke up hoping to come back the next Sunday to a better reception. Quite the contrary! When the chaplain came home that evening the good housekeeper went to work on him, denounced Don Bosco and his sons as revolutionaries and desecrators of holy places. All of them rascals of the worst kind, she said. She prevailed upon the good priest to write a letter to the civil authorities.
He wrote while the servant dictated, but with so much venom that a warrant was issued immediately for the arrest of any of us who should return there. Sad to say, that was the last letter written by Fr Tesio, the chaplain. He wrote it on Monday, and within a few hours he suffered a stroke from which he died very soon afterwards. Two days later a similar fate befell the housekeeper.”(MO Ch. 34).

10.5.2 St Martin’s chapel at the Molassi

Imagine us then, on a July Sunday in 1845, making our way laden with benches, kneelers, candlesticks, some chairs, crucifixes, and pictures large and small. Everyone carried some object suited to his strength. We must have looked like emigrants on the move; with din, laughter—and regret we marched out to establish our headquarters in the place just indicated.
Fr Borrelli gave an appropriate talk before we set out and another when we arrived at our new church.
That worthy minister of the sanctuary, in that common-folk style of his that could be said to be more unique than rare, spoke these thoughts: “My dear boys, cabbages never form a big, beautiful head unless they are transplanted. The same is true of our Oratory. So far it has been moved from one place to another many times, but in the different places where it has stopped it has always grown bigger, with no little advantage to the boys involved ...
How long will we stay here? We don’t know. We hope we’ll be here a long time; but however long our stay, we believe that like transplanted cabbages, our Oratory will grow in the number of boys who love virtue, will increase their desire for music, singing, evening classes, and even day courses ...

An immense crowd of youngsters attended that solemn ceremony, and a Te Deum of thanksgiving was sung with the greatest emotion.

We carried out our religious devotions as we had at the Refuge, though we could not celebrate Mass or give benediction in the evening. This meant that the boys could not receive communion, which is the fundamental element to our institution. Even our recreations were often disturbed, broken up because the lads were forced to play in the street and in the little square in front of the church where a constant stream of people on foot, carts, horses, and carriages passed by. Since we had nothing better, we thanked heaven for what we had been given and hoped for some better spot. (MO Ch. 33).

10.5.3 Casa Moretta

In the meantime, we had moved into November (1845), not a very practical season for outings or walks to places outside the city. In agreement with Fr Borrelli we rented three rooms in the house belonging to Fr Moretta, which is the one near, almost in front of, the Church of Mary Help [of Christians] today ... We spent four months there, confined in that restricted space, yet happy at least to be able to collect our pupils in those rooms and give them instructions and especially an opportunity to go to confession. That same winter we began evening classes. It was the first time that this kind of school was spoken of in our area. Consequently it was much discussed: some favoured it; others were against it. (MO Ch. 35).

… just one subject at a time. For example, one or two Sundays were devoted to going over and over the alphabet and the structure of syllables. Then we started right off on the small catechism and, syllable by syllable, pupils were taught to read one or two of the first catechism questions. That served as a lesson for the week. The following Sunday that work was reviewed and a few more questions and answers were added. In this way in about eight weeks I could succeed in getting some to read and study on their own a whole page of catechism. (MO Ch. 42).

10.5.4 Filippi Field

Doing the best we could, we held catechism classes, sang hymns, sang vespers. Then Dr Borrelli or I would stand on a hillock or on a chair and give a short sermon to the youths, who came up close to hear it.
For confessions, this is how we managed: I would be in the field early on feast day mornings, where many would already be waiting for me. I would sit on a hillock hearing one’s confession while others were preparing or making their thanksgiving. Afterwards many went back to their games. At a fixed time of the morning, all the boys assembled in answer to a bugle call. A second blast on the bugle brought them to silence, giving me a chance to speak and tell them where we were going for Mass and holy communion.
Sometimes, as I said, we went to Our Lady of the Fields, to the Church of Our Lady of Consolation, to Stupinigi, or to the places mentioned earlier. (MO Ch. 36).

On that evening as I ran my eyes over the crowd of children playing, I thought of the rich harvest awaiting my priestly ministry. With no one to help me my energy gone, my health undermined, with no idea where I could gather my boys in the future, I was very disturbed.
I withdrew to one side, and as I walked alone I began to cry, perhaps for the first time. As I walked I looked up to heaven and cried out, “My God, why don’t you show me where you want me to gather these children? Oh, let me know! Oh, show me what I must do!”
When I had finished saying this, a man called Pancrazio Soave came up. He stammered as he asked me,
“Is it true that you’re looking for a site for a laboratory?” “Not a laboratory, but an oratory.”
“I don’t know the difference between an oratory and a laboratory, but there’s a site available. Come and have a look at it. Mr Giuseppe Pinardi, the owner, (note: change this to Francesco) is an honest man. Come and you’ll get a real bargain.” (MO Ch. 39).

• Filippi field rented in February 1846;
• The Filippi brothers terminate this agreement at the beginning of March, giving him a fortnight;
• Comes across Pancrazio Soave on Sunday 8 March;
• Rental contract for a shed signed by Fr Borel and Francesco Pinardi in the days immediately following (dated however as 1 April 1846);
• Between the drawing up of the contract and Sunday 12 April work was done to the shed to make it suitable to use as a chapel;
• Meanwhile they continued to use the Filippi field, probably until Sunday 5 April;
• 12 April, Easter Sunday, the Oratory moves officially to the Pinardi chapel.

During winter we carried out part of this (note: catechism classes) in our house and part in various rooms we had rented. Finally this week we are in negotiations with a Mr Pinardi whom we have paid two hundred and eighty francs for a large room that could be the Oratory, plus two other rooms on the adjacent site. This place seems convenient both because it is very close to the Refuge and because it is some way distant from any church, but near to some homes; it just needs you to say that it is ok in terms of civil society and other external arrangements.

(G. Bosco, Epistolario. Introduzione, testi critici e note a cura di F. Motto, vol. 1: [1835–1863], Roma, LAS 1991, pp. 66–67).

10.6 The Oratory at casa Pinardi

10.6.1 Pinardi chapel

This is how we arranged our functions. The church was opened early in the morning on Sundays, and we heard confessions until it was time for Mass, which was scheduled for eight o’clock. Often, because there were so many for confession, Mass had to be put off till nine or even later. One of the priests, when they were present, assisted, and the prayers were recited in alternating choirs. Those who were prepared went to holy communion during Mass. When Mass was over and the vestments put away, I stood up on a low rostrum to explain the gospel. Then this was changed in order to begin a regular presentation of Bible history. These narratives were presented in simple and popular language, vividly portraying the customs of the times, the places, the [ancient] geographical names with their [modern] counterparts. This pleased very much the youngest, the adults, and even the priests who were present. After the instruction, there were classes till noon.
At one o’clock in the afternoon recreation began, with bocce, stilts, rifles, wooden swords, and our first gymnastics equipment. At two-thirty we started catechism. On the whole, ignorance abounded. Many times I began to sing the Ave Maria, but not one of the approximately four hundred youngsters present could continue if I stopped.
After catechism was over, since we were not yet able to sing vespers, we said the rosary. Later we began to sing Ave Maris Stella, then the Magnificat, then the Dixit (note.: Psalm 109), then other psalms; and finally an antiphon. In the space of a year, we had become capable of singing the whole vespers of our Lady.
These practices were followed by a short sermon, usually a story in which some virtue or vice was personified. It all concluded with the singing of the litanies and with benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.
When we came out of church, there was a period of free time for each to do as he pleased. Some continued their catechism class, some practised their singing, some worked at their reading. Most of them, however, jumped about, ran, and enjoyed themselves in various games and pastimes ...

As night fell, we all returned to church when the bell rang, here we said a few prayers or recited the rosary and the Angelus, and everything ended with the singing of the Praised be forever etc. As they left the church, I went in their midst and accompanied them while they sang and shouted.

As they left the church, I went in their midst and accompanied them while they sang and shouted. When we reached the Rondò, we would sing a verse from some hymn. Then I would invite them back for the following Sunday, and with a loud chorus of "good nights" all round, each went his way.”(MO Ch. 40).

At the beginning of the catechism period, I was totally occupied with arranging my classes when two clergymen arrived. They were coming with a humble, respectful bearing to commend me and seek information about the origin and system of the Oratory. As my only answer, I said,
“Would you be good enough to help me?” I asked one, “Would you come to the apse and take the big boys?” To the taller one I said, “I entrust to you this class, which is the wildest.”
Realising that they were excellent catechists, I asked one of them to give a short sermon to our boys, and the other to give benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Both accepted graciously.
The shorter priest was Father Antonio Rosmini, founder of the Institute of Charity. The other was Canon Archpriest De Gaudenzi, the present bishop of Vigevano. From that time, both of them were always kindly disposed towards our house; in fact they were benefactors. (MO Ch. 53).

Every Sunday he sent some agents or policemen to spend the whole day with us, watching all that was said or done in church or outside it.
“Well,” Marquis Cavour said to one of these guards, “what did you see and hear in the midst of that rabble?”
“Lord Marquis,we saw a huge crowd of boys enjoying themselves in a thousand ways. In church we heard some hair-raising sermons. They said so many things about hell and devils that it made me want to go to confession.”
“And what about politics?”

“Politics weren’t even mentioned. Those boys wouldn’t understand anything about politics.” (MO Ch. 41).

Fr Lemoyne tells us that “the Marquis’s order did a great deal of good for the guards. They ... had never heard these truths preached and hadn’t been to confession for year, so they became afraid, and as soon as Don Bosco had finished his sermon, they went up to him and asked to go to Confession.” (MB 2, 447).

I adopted every means to pursue also my own particular objective, which was to observe, get to know, and chose some individuals who had a suitable inclination to the common life, and to take them with me into my house.
With this same purpose, in that year (1848) I put it to a test with a little spiritual retreat. (MO Ch. 48).

10.6.2 Don Bosco at the Pinardi house

A few weeks after it was set up with your help, V. Rev. Fr, both the Superior at the Refuge and I saw that he was exhausted. You will recall how often I have asked him to take care of himself and give himself time to sleep etc. etc. He took no notice; he said that priests have to work, etc.
Don Bosco’s health got worse up till the time I left for Rome; meanwhile he was working, but ill, spitting blood. It was then that I received a letter from you, Father where you told me that Don Bosco was no longer able to do everything he had to. I immediately replied that I was ready to continue Don Bosco’s stipend if he would agree to do nothing else, and I am ready to keep my word. You, father, know that hearing confessions, encouraging hundreds of boys is not ‘doing nothing’; I believe it is harming Don Bosco, and I think he needs to go away from Turin so he can give his lungs a rest ...
You are so kind, father and I probably deserve your poor opinion of me by letting me know clearly that I want to block this Sunday teaching for the boys and whatever else he is doing for them during the week. I believe the work in itself is very good and worthy of those who have undertaken it; but I also believe that Don Bosco’s health absolutely does not allow him to continue, and on the other hand I believe that gathering these boys who used wait for their Director at the door to the Refuge, and are now waiting for him at the door to the Little Hospital, is not convenient ...
To sum up, [1.] I approve of and praise this work of teaching the boys, but given the people in my own work, I think these gatherings outside my doors are risky. 2. And since in conscience I believe that Don Bosco’s chest needs complete rest, I will not continue the small stipend I am giving him except on condition that he go some distance away from Turin so that he won’t be tempted to harm his health. I have so much time for him and I am worried about him. I know, Rev. Father, that we do not agree on these things. If it was not my conscience speaking I would as usual submit to your judgement.

(From: Archivio Salesiano Centrale – Roma, Fondo Don Bosco, microf. 541.B5-8).

My many commitments in the prisons, the Cottolengo Hospital, the Refuge, the Oratory, and the schools meant I had to work at night to compile the booklets that I absolutely needed. On account of that, my already frail health deteriorated to such a degree that the doctors advised me to stop all my activities. Doctor Borrelli, who loved me dearly, for my own good sent me to spend some time with the parish priest of Sassi. I rested during the week and went back to work at the Oratory on Sunday. But that was not enough. The youngsters came in crowds to see me; the boys from the village came too. So I was busier than in Turin, while I was causing a great deal of inconvenience to my little friends. (MO Ch. 43).

Back home again, I collapsed [fainted] and was carried to my bed. I had bronchitis, combined with coughing and violent inflammation. A week later, I was judged to be at death’s door. I had received Holy Viaticum and the Anointing of the Sick. I think that just then I was ready to die. I was sorry to abandon my youngsters, but I was happy that before I departed I had given a solid foundation to the Oratory. (MO Ch. 43).

Without prompting they prayed, fasted, went to Masses, and received holy communions. In turns they prayed all night and day for me before the image of Our Lady of Consolation. In the morning they lit special candles for me, and until the late evening large numbers were always praying and imploring the august Mother of God to preserve their poor Don Bosco.
Some made vows to recite the whole rosary for a month, others for a year, some for their whole lives. There were some who promised to fast on bread and water for months, years, and even their whole lives. I know that some bricklayer apprentices fasted on bread and water for entire weeks, without lessening from morning to evening their heavy work. In fact, when they had any bit of free time they rushed to spend it before the Most Blessed Sacrament.
God heard their prayers! It was a Saturday evening, and it was believed that it would be the last night of my life. So said the doctors who came to see me, and so was I convinced myself. I had no strength left because of a continuous loss of blood. Late in the night I grew drowsy and slept. When I woke I was out of danger. (MO Ch. 43).

The front looks towards the south, and windows and doors were only on this side. The living area was a ground floor and an upper floor but very low, and it took up the area near the portico where St Francis de Sales church is now. It was about 20 metres long and 6 wide. The height of the entire building was no more than seven metres.
About halfway along near the staircase, was a narrow entrance near which, outside, on the eastern part, was a stone basin and pump with plenty of fresh water. The house had about a dozen rooms. On the ground floor, behind the pump, there was a small door to an oblong room with just one window, and this later became a dining room for Don Bosco and his first helpers.
There was a wooden set of steps built by Pinardi which Don Bosco then rebuilt in stone, going upstairs, and there from the landing you entered on the left into a room above the dining room; there was a balcony running the length of the building, and off this the doors to the four rooms, each of which had a window. There were another four rooms like this below. There was a skylight or dormer providing light from the roof, and a small cellar in the middle of the building.
Behind this was the lean-to which we know as the chapel more or less the same length and width as the house.
Next to the Pinardi house, where the entrance to the second courtyard is now, was a low-slung shed that went almost the length of the entire building.
Made up of two equal parts, the southern end with door and window, had once been a stable but was now turned into a room; the northern end was used for stacking wood. Above was room for hay ...
In the rental contract that Don Bosco renewed in April 1849 to March 1852, reference was made to a shed that connected the house with a fence on the north. It was the first and only extension (if we could call it that) of the Oratory prior to the building of the St Francis de Sales church, and was done so they could have a covered area to play under.
In summer 1849 Don Bosco renovated the building on the eastern side of the house, making the woodshed, stable and new shed into one large room which he could use for academies and theatre, especially in winter when the open-air stage could not be used in the little yard next to the chapel. (ODB 100-102).

When we got firmly settled at Valdocco, I gave my full attention to promoting the things that could work to preserve our unity of spirit, discipline, and administration. In the first place, I drew up a set of regulations in which I simply set down what was being done at the Oratory, and the standard way in which things ought to be done ... This little Rule brought this notable advantage: everybody knew what was expected of him, and since I used to let each one be responsible for his own charge, each took care to know and to perform his appointed duties. (MO Ch. 45).

Now it happened that late one rainy evening in May [1847] a lad of fifteen showed up soaked to the skin. He asked for bread and shelter. My mother took him into the kitchen and put him near the fire. While he warmed himself and dried his clothes, she fed him a bowl of soup and some bread. As he ate, I asked him whether he had gone to school, whether he had family, and what kind of work he did.
“I’m a poor orphan,” he answered me. “I’ve come from the Sesia valley to look for work. I had three francs with me, but I spent them all before I could earn anything. Now I have nothing left and no one to turn to.”
“Have you been admitted to first communion?”
“I haven’t been admitted yet.”
“And confirmation?”
“I haven’t received it yet,”
“Have you been to confession?”
“I’ve gone a few times.”
“Now where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. For charity’s sake, let me stay in some corner of your house tonight.”
At this point he broke down and cried. My mother cried with him. I was moved.
“If I could be sure you weren’t a thief, I would try to put you up. But other boys stole some of the blankets, and you might take the rest of them.”
“Oh no, Sir. You needn’t worry about that. I’m poor, but I’ve never stolen anything.”
“If you wish,” replied my mother, “I will put him up for tonight, and tomorrow God will provide.”
“Where?” I asked. “Here in the kitchen.”
“You’re risking even your pots.”
“I’ll see that it doesn’t happen.”
“Go ahead, then.”
The good woman, helped by the little orphan, went out and collected some bricks. With these she built four little pillars in the kitchen. On them she laid some boards and and threw a straw mattress on top, thereby making the first bed in the Oratory. My good mother gave the boy a little talk on the necessity of work, of trustworthiness, and of religion. Finally she invited him to say his prayers.
“I don’t know any,” he answered.
“You can say them with us,” she told him. And so he did.
That all might be secure, the kitchen was locked, and opened only in the morning. This was the first youngster at our hospice ... It was 1847. (MO Ch. 46).

10.6.3 The area around Pinardi House

10.7 Don Bosco’s other Oratories

10.7.1 St Aloysius Oratory

But to get the house we had a royal battle with the local residents. It was occupied by a number of washerwomen, who thought this was the end of the world when they had to abandon their former place. But we used a gentle approach and offered some compensation, and so a deal was struck before the belligerents reached a state of war. (MO Ch. 47).

10.7.2 The Guardian Angel Oratory

10.8 Churches used during the wandering Oratory stage

10.8.1 The Consolata

10.8.2 The Superga Basilica

Soon after 9:00 a.m. we set out for Superga. Some carried baskets of bread, some cheese, salami, fruit, or other provisions for the day. They kept quiet till we were outside the populated parts of the city, but from then on they began yelling, singing, and shouting, though they kept ranks.
On reaching the foot of the hill, where the path climbs to the basilica, I found a lovely little pony, already saddled up, which Fr Anselmetti, Anselmetti, pastor of the church, had put at my disposal. There was also a note from Dr Borrelli who had gone on ahead: It read: “Come along with our dear boys, and don’t worry. The soup, the dinner, and the wine are ready.” I mounted the horse and read the letter aloud. They all crowded round the horse, and after hearing the message, broke into applause and cheers, shouting and singing ... Amid the uproar the music struck up, provided by a tambourine, a bugle, and a guitar. It was absolute discord, but it served as a backing for the noisy voices of the boys. The result was wonderfully harmonious.
Worn out with all the laughing, joking, singing, and I would say, the yelling, we reached our destination. The perspiring youngsters gathered in the courtyard of the shrine and were soon given food enough to satisfy their voracious appetites. When they had a while to rest, I called them all round me and told them all the details of the wonderful history of the basilica, with its royal tombs in the crypt, and the Ecclesiastical Academy which Charles Albert had established there and the bishops of the Kingdom of Sardinia supported.
Fr William Audisio, the president, generously provided the soup and main course for all the guests. The parish priest donated the wine and the fruit. We took a couple of hours for a tour of the area and later assembled in the church, where many people had already taken their places. At 3:00 p.m. I gave a short sermon from the pulpit, after which some of the best choir boys sang a Tantum ergo. Their clear voices and the novelty of it won everyone’s admiration. At six we sent up some balloons to signal our departure. With renewed and lively thanks to our benefactors we struck out again for Turin, singing, laughing, running, and sometimes praying on our way. When we got to the city, the boys dropped out of our procession a few at a time at points along the route closest to their homes and returned to their families. When I got back to the Refuge, I still had with me 7 or 8 of the strongest lads, who had carried the equipment used during the day.” (MO Ch. 36).

10.8.3 Monte dei Cappuccini

We had finished our game when a bugle sounded and everyone went quiet. Everyone left their games and gathered around the priest, whom I knew to be Don Bosco: “My dear boys,” he said in a loud voice, “it is now time for Mass: this morning we will go to mass at Monte dei cappuccini; after Mass we will have a small breakfast. Those who do not have time to go to Confession today can go next Sunday; do not forget that you have the opportunity for Confession every Sunday.”
Having said this he blew the bugle again and everybody fell into line to walk. One of the older ones began the Rosary and everyone joined in. The walk was almost three kilometres ... When we were about to start up the hill leading to the Monastery, we began the Litany of Our Lady. I enjoyed all this; the flowers, lanes, the wood covering the slopes of the hill echoed our singing and made our walk truly romantic.
Mass was celebrated and some boys went to Holy Communion. After a short sermon and some time for thanksgiving, everyone went into the Monastery courtyard for breakfast. (MB 2, 386-387).

10.8.4 Madonna del Pilone

One day Don Bosco took his boys to Madonna del Pilone. They crossed the Po in three boats and in the middle of the river began singing a hymn. When people on the banks heard the singing they stopped and listened; then, enchanted by the harmony, began following the boats running along the river bank. There were a few trumpeters amongst them, so they took up the instruments and began accompanying the simple tune. It had a magical effect. All the people from around Madonna del Pilone came out of their houses and when the boats landed at the river bank, there were around a thousand waiting there and gathered around the young singers. (MB 2, 134-135).

10.8.5 Madonna di Campagna

When they were walking along the shady lane leading to the monastery from the main road, all the church bells began ringing at length, to everyone’s amazement. I said to everyone’s amazement because whenever we had gone there on a number of occasions our arrival had never been greeted with so many bells. This seemed to be so unusual that word got around that the bells had begun ringing of their own accord. What is certain is that Fr Fulgenzio, the Guardian at the Monastery and then confessor of King Charles Albert, was certain that neither he nor any of the families had ordered the bells rung for the occasion, and however much he tried to find out who had rung them, he never found out.
Once we got to the church we attended Mass ... Don Bosco preached the occasional sermon. Likening his boys to birds thrown out of their nests, he encouraged them to pray to Our Lady who would prepare a stable and safe place for them; they prayed in a heartfelt way, full of confidence that they would be heard. Then refreshed, they came back to the city, to gather for the last time in the field that afternoon. (MB 2, 419-420).

Part IV. DON BOSCO DEVELOPS THE ORATORY

11 FACTS AND THEIR SIGNIFICANCE

11.1 Mature choices

• The laws of suppression of orders and religious bodies (1855) pointed him towards a more malleable model of a religious congregation or society;
• School reform legislation (1848 and 1859) encouraged him to seek solutions which would respond to his plans for education and which would also fit in with the more liberal idea of society;
• The development and gradual articulation of cooperative activity in its various forms offered him pointers for conceiving a broad movement of Cooperators who would serve the Church and civil society;
• The spread of interest in the missions on the one hand and the massive flow of migration towards the New World on the other, inspired a missionary project involving evangelisation, civilisation, educational activity alongside classic missionary and socio-religious activity for Italian migrants, similar to what was happening in Valdocco;
• A growing thirst for culture amongst ordinary people, the desire to read and be informed, the spread of anti-Catholic thinking, encouraged him to dream up very agile and economic ways of communicating and spreading Christian values and ways of thinking; his books spread these ideas with the help of a wide network of fellow-sympathisers and had notable success for their simple language, style (narrative, examples), and for their popular sentiment;
• Lack of understanding and serious tensions between state authorities and the Church hierarchy meant that many sees were without a bishop, and this had consequences for the people. He was prudently conservative but concerned mostly for pastoral care, so became a mediator, convinced as he was for the need for reconciliation based on a renewed concept of Church-State relationships;
• The urgent need to find funds to build his works and the Sacred Heart basilica obliged him to make many trips around Italy, to France and Spain, and this was an opportunity for pastoral ministry, preaching, invitation to conversion and doing good and serving the poor; he made this an opportunity to bring Catholics together and encouraged them to action and unity; it became an effective way of passing on his educational approach, his anxiety to save and safeguard young people; for his characteristic devotion to Our Lady which united both a way to perfection and historical and social activity of the highest order.

• Give yourself completely to God from your youth;
• Work tirelessly and in every way to do good and avoid evil;
• Be charitable and treat your neighbour with loving kindness;
• The sacraments of Eucharist and Penance are the secret to holiness;
• Venerate the Virgin Mary as a model and help for Christian living;
• Love and serve the Church and the Pope;
• “If we do good, things will go well in this life and the next”;
• “A piece of paradise fixes everything!”

11.2 Emerging pedagogical and spiritual values

• Young people have a ‘native’ feeling for absolute values, want robust spiritual invitations and know how to respond fully if they are helped, encouraged and followed up;
• A young person’s prayer must not be limited to form or emotions or odd moments here and there: is has to animate life, inspire and support choices, be part of one’s whole day;
• Grace, sacramental relationship with Christ, work marvels in young hearts and can lead them to the heights of contemplation;
• The sacrament of Penance is an essential tool along the Christian journey; it is medicine, prevention, strength, evaluation, and a way of facing up to issues;
• Concrete models of Christian living which are close to a youthful mindset and the situation they are in, are powerful and effective channels for values;
• Christian truths, liturgy and sacraments, devotion to Mary, the Bible ... need to be presented and experienced in their totality, but in ways that young people can follow: youth ministry is not a minor or piecemeal pastoral activity despite it using youthful language and forms.

• The young person has a compelling need for understanding, friendship, being loved in his (or her) own right, for confidence but also needs successful adult models, spiritual fatherliness (not paternalism!);
• A positive, calm youthful community filled with values and actively involved, is one of the most effective means of formation;
• The best apostles of the young are young people themselves;
• To educate like Don Bosco did there is a need for a well-knit group enlivened by charity, generosity and self-denial, inspired by religious motivation, an optimistic outlook on mankind and history (which is the history of salvation!);
• Today’s young person is tomorrow’s adult: every choice, every activity, including play, contributes to our formation; the educator has to be far-sighted, respectful, intuitive, qualified; his or hers is an historic mission;
• Youth ministry and educational activity will be impaired and ineffective unless they focus on vocation and professional formation;
• A plan is essential, one which is shared and carried out by an educative community where activities, choices, times, duties, lighter moments. Catechesis, formation, prayer, culture are coordinated and given purpose...
• Prevention is building up positive values and attitudes before keeping evil in check;
• Formation of thinking and beliefs filtered through the critical use of reason is not manipulation nor does it produce fanatics. It produces free, malleable and balanced people;
• The educator’s task includes discovering and encouraging talents and offering opportunities for their expression and development;
• Cultural and professional preparation cannot be delegated uncritically: it is not just a question of technical skills being passed on but of forming ways of thinking, a worldview, values.

12 HISTORICAL, GEOGRAPHICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES

12.1 Social and pastoral activity in the second half of the 19th century

12.2 Chronological table 1

(Cf. F. Giraudi, L’Oratorio di don Bosco. Inizio e progressivo sviluppo edilizio della Casa Madre dei Salesiani in Torino, Torino, SEI 19352).

12.3 Chronological table 2

(Events: 1850–1888)

Dates	Events
1850	Don Bosco founds the workers or mutual aid society
1852	Arch. Fransoni appoints Don Bosco as Director of the Oratories
1853	Begins publication of the Letture Cattoliche (Catholic Readings)\linebreak Internal workshops for shoemakers and tailors
1854	First nucleus of the Salesian Society: called “Salesians”\linebreak Book-binding workshop\linebreak Dominic Savio comes to Valdocco
1855	First internal class (3rd form secondary) given to cleric Francesia
1856	Carpentry workshop\linebreak Another two internal classes (1st and 2nd secondary)\linebreak Sets up the Immaculate Conception Sodality
1857	Sets up the Blessed Sacrament Sodality and a St Vincent de Paul Youth Conference
1858	Don Bosco makes his first trip to Rome and presents Pius IX with his plans for a religious society and the first draft of the Constitutions\linebreak Founds the Altar Boys group
1859	Secondary school complete (5 classes)\linebreak Sets up the St Joseph’s Sodality\linebreak The Salesian Society becomes official
1860	First lay members (= Coadjutors) in the Salesian Society
1861	Founds the Printing Press
1862	Metalwork workshop
1863	First place outside Turin, at Mirabello Monferrato (AL), directed by M. Rua
1864	Founds the College at Lanzo Torinese (TO)\linebreak Decretum laudis for the Salesian Society\linebreak First meeting with Mary Domenica Mazzarello
1865	The Library of Latin Authors
1867	Second trip to Rome
1868	Consecration of the Church of Mary Help of Christians
1869	Pontifical approval of the Salesian Society\linebreak Opening of school at Cherasco (CN)\linebreak Begins work on the Library of Italian Youth\linebreak Third trip to Rome
1870	Founds the school and boarding section at Alassio (SV)\linebreak Fourth trip to Rome\linebreak Transfers the school at Mirabello to Borgo S. Martino (AL)
1871	Founds the trade school at Marassi (GE) which moves to Sampierdarena the following year\linebreak Foundation of the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians\linebreak Two trips to Rome (in June and September)\linebreak Arch. Gastaldi becomes archbishop of Turin\linebreak Opening of the house at Varazze (SV)
1872	Accepts the college at Valsalice in Turin
1873	First tensions with Gastaldi\linebreak Seventh and eighth trip to Rome
1874	Final approval of the Constitutions of the Salesian Society\linebreak First General Chapter of the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians, where Mazzarello is elected Superior General
1875	Ninth trip to Rome\linebreak First missionary expedition to Argentina
1876	Tenth and eleventh trip to Rome\linebreak Pontifical approval of the Salesian Cooperators\linebreak Contacts in France regarding possible foundations
1877	Three trips to Rome\linebreak Opening of the Patronage de St Pierre in Nice (France)\linebreak First General Chapter of the Salesian Society1linebreak Founds the Salesian Bulletin
1878	Death of Pius IX and election of Leo XIII, while Don Bosco is in Rome for his fourteenth visit\linebreak First audience with Leo XIII\linebreak Blessing of the foundation stone of the church of St John the Evangelist in Turin
1879	Fifteenth trip to Rome\linebreak Opening of the novitiate at San Benigno Canavese (TO)
1880	Sixteenth trip to Rome\linebreak Don Bosco agrees to complete the building of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart in Rome
1881	First foundation in Spain: Utrera (Seville)\linebreak Seventeenth trip to Rome\linebreak Death of Mary Mazzarello
1882	Trip to France and again to Rome\linebreak Consecration of the church of St John the Evangelist
1883	Card. Alimonda becomes Archbishop of Turin1linebreak Fr Achille Ratti, future Pius XI, visits the Oratory\linebreak Fr Cagliero made Vicar Apostolic of Patagonia
1884	Important trip to France, despite worsening health\linebreak Nineteenth trip to a Rome\linebreak The Letter from Rome on the state of the Oratory\linebreak Don Bosco’s schools take part in the National Industrial Exhibition in Turin, where they have their own pavilion\linebreak Episcopal consecration of Cagliero
1885	1885 Despite his health, Don Bosco make a new journey to France\linebreak Fr Rua appointed as his Vicar, with right of succession
1886	Journey to Spain
1887	Final trip to Rome for the consecration of the Sacred Heart Basilica
1887	Don Bosco celebrates his last Mass on 11 December
1888	31 January: Don Bosco’s death

12.4 Suggestions for visits and tours

13 TOURS AND VISITS

13.1 The historical nucleus

(buildings put up between 1851 and 1856)

Figure 38. Valdocco today

13.1.1 Church of St Francis de Sales (1851–1852)

The church was built but needed all kinds of furnishings. Civic charity did not let us down. Comm. Joseph Dupré undertook to decorate a chapel dedicated to St Aloysius, and buy a marble altar which still adorns the church. Another benefactor undertook to fit out the choir loft, where a small organ was set up for the day boys. Mr Michael Scannagatti bought a complete set of candlesticks; Marquis Fassati undertook to supply our Lady’s altar and provided a set of bronze candlesticks, and later the statue of our Lady. Fr Caffasso paid all the expenses incurred for the pulpit. The high altar was provided by Doctor Francis Vallauri and completed by his son, Fr Peter, a priest.” (MO Ch. 56).

The boys lined up in front,” Francis Dalmazzo, who witnessed the scene, tells us “happy to get their roll from him and kiss his hand, while he said something to each one and gave him a smile.
All the boys, about four hundred of them, got a roll. When he had finished giving them out I went to look inside the basket and to my great surprise I saw that there was the same number there as there had been at the beginning, without other rolls added or the basket being switched.” (MB 6, 779).

On the evening of that day, 8 December, when the church functions were over, and after consulting his confessor, Dominic went before Our lady’s altar, renewed the promises he had made at his First Communion, then said the following repeatedly: “Mary, I give you my heart; may it always be yours. Jesus and Mary always be my friends; but please may I die rather than have the misfortune to commit even a single sin.” (DS Ch. 8).

Savio had been living at the Oratory for six months when there was a sermon given on how easy it was to become a saint. The preacher develop three ideas in particular that made a great impression on Dominic, and they were: it is God’s will that we all become saints; it is very easy to succeed; there is a great reward ready in heaven for whoever becomes a saint. For Dominic that sermon was a spark that kindled God’s love in his heart. He said nothing for some days, but was less cheerful than usual and this was noted by his companions and also by myself. Thinking it might be because he had some new health problem I asked him if he was feeling ill.
“On the contrary,” he answered, “I feel rather good.”
“What are you telling me?”
“I am saying that I feel the desire and need to become a saint; I didn’t think it was so easy to become a saint but now I have understand that we can do so and also remain cheerful, I absolutely want and need to become a saint. So tell me what I have to do to begin.”
I praised his resolve, but encouraged him not to be concerned, because the Lord’s voice is not heard amongst such feelings of disquiet; I told him that first of all I wanted to see a constant and balanced cheerfulness, and advising him to persevere with his duties of study and piety I recommend that he never fail to take part in recreation with his companions. (DS Ch. 10).

It often happened that going to church, especially on the days Dominic Savio went to Communion, or when the Blessed Sacrament was exposed, he would be beyond himself, spend far too long there unless called on to do his various duties. It happened one day that he was not there for breakfast, school, or lunch and no one knew where he was; he was not in study nor in bed. When the Director was told, he guessed what it might really be, that he would be in church, since this had happened other times. He went to the church, went to the choir and saw him there like a rock. He had one foot on the other, one hand balanced on the edge of the lectern, the other placed on his breast with his face turned to the altar. His lips were not moving. I called him but he did not answer. I struck him lightly then he turned and said: “Oh, is Mass already over?”
“Look,” the Director said showing him the watch “It’s two o’clock.” He humbly asked forgiveness for breaking the rules of the house, and the director sent him off to lunch, telling him: “If someone asks you where you are coming from tell them you were doing something for me.” (DS Ch. 19).

As well as decorum in God’s House, its main purpose was to nurture amongst the more virtuous young students the vocation to the ecclesiastical state, and especially amongst boys in the higher classes. When they were trained in the ceremonies, and were vested in cassock and cotta, they would take their turn in serving mass on Sundays, and together would serve at the altar for other functions during the main solemnities during the year. They were trained to be candle-bearers, acolytes, carry the thurible, cross-bearers, etc., for solemn Mass, vespers, Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, processions, all the Holy Week functions and funerals. (MB 5, 788).

13.1.2 The 1853 building (Don Bosco’s house)

I always recall with pleasure when I came to the Oratory on the evening of 2 November. Don Bosco presented me to his good Mama Margaret, saying “Here we are, mother, a small boy from Castelnuovo who wants to be a good boy and study.” His mother replied:
“Yes, all you do is go looking for boys, and you know we have no room.” Don Bosco smiling, said:
“Oh you’ll find a little corner somewhere!”
“We could put him in your room” his mother replied.
“Oh that’s not necessary. This young man as you can see is not very big, we could fit him into a grissini packet! And we could tie him to the rafters with a rope; what a good spot — he’d be like a canary in a cage.”
His mother laughed and meanwhile looked for a place for me. That evening I had to sleep at the foot of someone’s bed.
The following day I saw how poor the house was. Don Bosco’s room was low and narrow, our dormitories on the ground floor were narrow and paved with street stones. There was no furniture except for our mattresses, sheets and blankets. The kitchen was very poor and without pots except for some soup tureens and ladles. Knives, forks and serviettes were things we saw many years later, bought or donated by some pious and charitable person. Our refectory was a shed, and Don Bosco’s a tiny room near the well that was also used for class and for recreation. All this kept us as poor as we were when we were born but it was where we were educated by the example of the Servant of God, who was very happy when he could serve us in the refectory, set up the dormitory, clean and repair our clothes and other services of the kind.
He lived with us and this convinced us that more than being in a boarding school or hostel we were in a family, under the direction of a loving father who wanted nothing else than our spiritual and temporal good. (MB 4, 291-292).

The building was open. The rafters were in place, the slats nailed down, the shingles ready to be put in place when a violent storm interrupted work. And that wasn’t all; it poured for days and nights, and the water, pouring through the beams and slats, scoured out the fresh and possibly bad mortar leaving the walls devoid of cement and something to hold them together. (MB 4, 507).

Its furnishings, that never altered while he was alive, were an iron bed and some cupboards, some donated by benefactors; some nice chairs, a rough, narrow table as a desk without cover or shelving, an old sofa, an old bureau to keep letter paper, a simple wooden (poplar) kneeler which he used for hearing confessions, a crucifix and some holy pictures on the wall. For a long time this was a bedroom, reception, and office. (MB 4, 657–658).

13.1.3 The 1856 building (former Pinardi house)

“He called on a certain Mr Giovenale Delponte, an engineer and businessman, and asked him if he could give him money to start.
“No” he replied.
“Neither have I” Don Bosco said.
“So how do we do it?”
“We begin just the same,” Don Bosco said “and before we have to pay the workers, the Lord will send us some money.”
This was what Don Bosco usually told builders when he started his many buildings.
“This new building is necessary; I have no money; but meanwhile we start and get a move on.”
It was calculated that 40,000 lire was needed, and John Villa often heard Don Bosco say: “Don Bosco is poor, but with God we can do everything; Providence will see to everything.” (MB 5, 455-456).

He achieved what he wanted — the greatest simplicity. There was no wasted space, and he did not want corridors and wide staircases; the builders made access possible for just one person at a time ... Don Bosco laid down what every room was to be used for. (MB 5, 539).

1) The boy must have had his 12th birthday and must be no older than 18.
2) He must have neither father nor mother, and no brother, sister or other relatives who might be able to look after him.
3) He must be completely poor and abandoned. If these conditions are met, if the boy owns anything he should bring it with him to the House and it will be used on his behalf, since someone who can live on his own resources should not be relying on the charity of others.
4) He should be healthy and strong, without deformities or contagious or disgusting diseases.
5) Preference will be shown to those who attend the St Aloysius, Guardian Angel and St Francis de Sales festive Oratories since this house is especially aiming at bringing in completely poor and abandoned boys who attend one of the above-named Oratories. (MB 5, 754-755).

13.1.4 Further extensions to the “Camerette” (1861, 1862, 1876)

13.1.5 The Camerette today

... having come to the Oratory, came to my room to put himself, as he said, entirely into his superiors’ hands. His glance immediately fell on the poster above where in large letters were written the words St Francis de Sales used say: da mihi animas, caetera tolle. He read them carefully; I wanted him to understand what they meant so I invited him, in fact helped him translate the meaning: Oh Lord, give me souls, and take away everything else. He thought for a moment and then added: I understand: here we do not do business in money but in souls: I understand; I hope my soul will also be part of this business. (DS Ch. 8).

On the evening of 26 January 1854 we gathered in Don Bosco’s room. Present were Don Bosco, Rocchietti, Artiglia, Cagliero and Rua; Don Bosco suggested that with the help of the Lord and St Francis de Sales we should engage in an exercise of practical charity toward neighbour. This would be in view of making a promise of it, and later, if possible and convenient, a vow to the Lord. From that evening those who committed or would in the future commit themselves to this exercise were called Salesians.

The Feast of the Immaculate Conception had been solemnised at the Oratory and Don Bosco made a public announcement that evening that the following day, Friday, he would be holding a special conference in his room after the boys had gone to bed. This was understood as an invitation by those who were meant to come. The priests, clerics, and laymen who were helping Don Bosco in his efforts at the Oratory and were aware of this ’secret’ could see that this was to be an important meeting.
On the 9th of December 1859 they came together.
They called on the Holy Spirit for enlightenment with the usual prayer, as well as on the assistance of the Blessed Mother. Don Bosco referred to matters he had raised in earlier conferences and described what a religious congregation could look like, its beauty, the honour of consecrating oneself completely to God forever, how easy it was to save your own soul, the merits that could be won through obedience, the glory and double crown awaiting the religious in heaven.
Then, visibly moved, he said that the time had come to give shape to this Congregation that he had so long dreamt of forming and that had been foremost amongst his concerns...
He ended by saying that the time had come for those who had been attending his conferences, to declare whether or not they wanted to enrol in the Pious Society that would take the name of St Francis de Sales. Those who did not have any intention of belonging were asked not to come to future conferences he would be holding. And by not turning up this would be a sign that they did not wish to belong. He gave them a week to think about it and discuss this important matter with God.
...
Cleric John Cagliero could not make up his mind if he wanted to be part of the new Congregation or not. He walked up and down for hours along the portico caught up in various ideas: finally he said, turning to a friend: "Friar or no friar, it’s the same thing. I have decided, as I have always done, to never leave Don Bosco!" Then he wrote a note to Don Bosco in which he said he would be fully open to the advice and decisions of his superior. Don Bosco when he met him smiled: “Come, come,” he said: “This is the right way for you!”
The conference to express their belonging to the Pious Society was held on the 18th of December 1859. Only two did not present themselves.(MB 6, 333-335).

Some luxuriant vines climbed up from the courtyard along the wall and shaded the windows of this balcony. One Saturday evening, when the Saint was there hearing confessions of the senior students (note: probably autumn 1884), a young lad from the fourth year, Paolo Falla, waiting his turn kneeling in front of the leafy vines, saw a bunch of grapes beginning to ripen, picked it and calmly began eating them. He got distracted, and wasn’t thinking of anything else, nor did he see that the previous penitent he finished his confession and gone. Don Bosco, having finished with the boy on the other side, turned towards him to hear his confession. The boy went red in the face (he had the grapes in his hand), and stuttered out an excuse; but Don Bosco said to him kindly: “That’s ok. Finish your grapes first and then you can make your confession.” And saying that he turned back to the other side and continued hearing confessions. (MB 17, 167).

On the night of the 30th he turned his head slightly towards Enria, his stayed with him every evening, and said: “Tell... but... but... hello!” Then very slowly he said the act of contrition. Sometimes he cried out: Miserere nostri, Domine. In the deep of night, raising his arms bit by bit to heaven and joining his hands, he said: "may your holy will be done!" All of his right side was gradually paralysed, and his right arm lay unmoving on the bed; but he did not stop from raising his left arm, again saying each time “May your holy will be done!” Then he did not speak again; throughout the rest of the 30th and that night he continued lifting his left hand like that, probably indicating his renewed offering of his life to God.
...
The doctors said that by evening or at least before sunrise the following day, Don Bosco would no longer be with us. The news quickly spread through the Oratory, and hearts were heavy. The confreres wanted to see him one last time and Fr Rua allowed them to kiss his hand. They gathered in small groups in the chapel then filed in one by one to see him. He was stretched out on the bed; his head was raised a little, turned a little to the right and supported by three pillows. His face was calm; it was not gaunt; his eyes were half-closed; his right hand lay on a blanket. There was a crucifix on his breast, he held another in his left hand, a purple stole hung at the end of the bed, sign of his priesthood.
...
At 3:45 a.m. when for a moment only his secretary and Joseph Buzzetti were beside him, he opened his eyes, looked twice and at length at Fr Viglietti and raised his left hand which was free, placing it on his head. Buzzetti broke into tears at this: “This is the final goodbye” he said. Then he lay immobile as before. His secretary was suggesting brief prayers to him. Bishop Cagliero and Bishop Leto took turns to come in. Fr Dalmazzo gave him a blessing for the dying and said the prayers.
Count Radicati, a great benefactor of the Oratory, came to see him towards 4 p.m. Fr Eugenio Francesco, who had been with Don Bosco in Chieri, remained an hour, weeping in one corner of the room. Fr Giacomelli came at 6 p.m. put on his stole and read some prayers from the ritual. Later, since death did not seem imminent, some of the Superiors withdrew, but Fr Rua and others did not move. The dying man was breathing with difficulty; it stayed that way most of the night ...
At 1:45 a.m. the agony began. When Fr Rua saw that things were now moving fast put on his stole and continued with the prayers for the dying that he had begun two hours earlier. The other superiors were hurriedly called; around thirty counting priests, clerics and lay people filled the room. Kneeling down they prayed.
When Bishop Cagliero arrived, Fr Rua gave him his stole, went over to the right side of Don Bosco and bending down to his ear whispered: “Don Bosco,” he said, his voice struggling with emotion, “we are here — your children are here. We ask your forgiveness for all the things we have done that have made you suffer, and as a sign of forgiveness and your fatherly kindness give us your blessing once more. I will guide your hand and say the words of blessing.” Everyone present bowed down. Fr Rua, taking courage, raised the paralysed right hand and said the words of blessing over the Salesians present and absent, especially those farthest away.

At 3 a.m. a telegram arrived from Cardinal Rampolla with the apostolic blessing. The Bishop had already read the Proficiscere. At 4:30 a.m. the bells of Mary help of Christians rang; everyone said the Angelus. Fr Bonetti whispered in Don Bosco’s ear the ‘Viva Maria’ of the days before. The death rattle that had been heard for about an hour and a half stopped. His breathing became freer and easier but just for a few seconds: then it stopped. “Don Bosco is dying!” Fr Belmonte exclaimed. Those who were sitting because they were tired sprung to their feet and came near the bed ... He breathed three times at short intervals ... Don Bosco was really dying. Bishop Cagliero, looking at him, said: “Jesus, Joseph, Mary, I give you my heart and my soul ... Jesus, Mary and Joseph, help me in my final agony ... Jesus, Mary and Joseph, may I breathe my soul in peace with you.”

Fr Rua and the others, crowding around, agonised with their Father ... Don Bosco was dead!” (MB 18, 538-542).

Do good works quickly, because there is little time and we could be deceived ... Happy those who give themselves to God for ever when they are young ... Whoever delays in giving himself to God is in great danger of losing his soul ... Whoever sows good works reaps good fruit ... Give much to the poor if you want to become rich ... At the end of our lives we reap the fruit of good works ... In Paradise we enjoy all that is good forever. (cf. MB 18, 481-483).

In this room, a heavenly peace reigned ... He sat in front of a simple desk with drawers and pullers. Bundles of letters and cards lay before him and sometimes the postman would enter to add to the pile. But Don Bosco did not give much thought to all that. He left the letters there; he believed that little things had to be done slowly and well and without distraction ...
He dealt with everyone as if that morning he had nothing else to do but listen and respond. Along with St Francis de Sales, he believed that haste ruined works; and he was never the first one to conclude the discussion; he never gave a sign he wanted to cut you short; in fact sometimes when the other wanted to leave, feeling he might be importune in staying, Don Bosco would kindly invite him to stay a little longer ...
His conversation was always very pleasant. He would mix in jokes and anecdotes. His wit was always spot on; and if it produced the right effect, he would say it had just occurred to him to say that or that he’d heard it from Fr Cafasso, or Guala or Borel or from this or that other person. The anecdote or example were his way of making a keen and deep impression, but what mattered most is that it fitted the bill. He dealt with people gracefully and nobody could say that he had been less than delicate and prudent ... There was in Don Bosco a respectful good-natured, affectionate character but one which did not prevent him from baring his teeth, or fishing for some big fish. (MB 7, 20-21).

My dear and beloved sons in J. C.
Before leaving this world for eternity, I wish to fulfil a duty towards you and so satisfy an ardent desire of my heart.
First of all, I thank you with the most ardent affection of my soul for the obedience you have given me and for all you have done to sustain and propagate our Congregation.
I leave you here on earth, but only for a short time. I hope the infinite mercy of God will enable us all to meet one day in Heaven. There I await you.
Do not grieve over my death. his is a debt we must all pay; but afterwards, every fatigue sustained for the love of our Master, the good Jesus, will be greatly rewarded.
Instead of weeping, make firm and efficacious resolutions to remain staunch in your vocation until death.
Watch, so that neither the love of the world, nor the affection of parents, nor the desire of a more agreeable life induce you to make the great mistake of profaning the sacred vows, and so transgress the religious profession by which you are consecrated to God.
Let none take back that which we have given to God.
If you have loved me in the past, continue to love me in the future by the exact observance of our Constitutions.
Your first Rector is dead. But our true Superior, Jesus Christ, will never die. He will always be our Master, our guide, our model. But remember that he, in his own time, will also be our judge and the one who rewards our faithfulness in His service.
Your Rector is dead. But there will be another elected, who will have care of you and of your eternal salvation. Listen to him, love him, obey him, pray for him as you have done for me.
Adieu, dear children, adieu. I wait for you in Heaven. There we shall speak of God, of Mary, the Mother and support of our Congregation; there we shall bless eternally this our Congregation, the observance of whose rules will have powerfully and efficaciously contributed to our salvation.

Sit nomen Domini benedictum ex hoc nunc et usque in saeculum. In te Domine speravi, non confundar in aeternum. (RSS 4 [1985] 98-100).

Devotion to Mary is a great support for you my children. Listen to her inviting you: Si quis est parvulus veniat ad me. If you are a child, come to me.

She assures you that if you are devout, as well as all the blessings of this world, you will have Paradise in the next. Qui elucidant me vitam aeternam habebunt. So be thoroughly convinced that all graces you ask this good Mother for will be granted to you so long as you do not ask for something that will do you harm.

You should immediately ask for three graces which are absolutely essential for everyone, but especially for you when you are young.
The first is never to commit a mortal sin in your life. I want you to ask for this grace through Mary’s intercession at any cost since any grace would be useless without this...
The second grace you should ask for is to preserve the holy and precious virtue of purity. If you preserve such a beautiful virtue, you will be very like the Angels in paradise and your Guardian Angel will treat you as a friend and enjoy being in your company...
And from this comes the need for the third grace which will also help you very much to preserve the virtue of purity, and this is to flee from bad companions ...

What will you do for Mary in order to obtain these graces? Very little is needed. If you can say the Rosary but never forget each day to say a Hail Mary and three Glory bes and the little prayer: Dear Mother Mary ever Virgin, help me to save my soul.

(G. Bosco G., Il giovane provveduto..., Torino, Tipografia G.B. Paravia e Comp. 1847, pp. 51-54).

With a friend called Franchini I was serving Don Bosco’s Mass in the small chapel near his room when at the elevation I saw the celebrant ecstatic and with a radiant look on his face: it seemed to flood the entire chapel. Little by little his feet lifted off the altar step and he remained suspended in the air for a good ten minutes. The two servers could not reach up to lift up his chasuble. Garrone, overcome by amazement, ran to call Fr Berto but couldn’t find him; he got back when Don Bosco was coming down: but there seemed to be a heavenly atmosphere there. (MB 13, 897).

13.2 The Basilica of Mary help of Christians

One Saturday in December, perhaps it was the 6th, Don Bosco, having finished hearing confessions of the boys around 11 p.m. went down for supper in the dining room near the kitchen. Don Bosco was pensive. Albera was a young cleric and was alone with him when Don Bosco said. “I have heard so many confessions that I truly do not know what I have said or done, but I was so taken up by an idea which distracted me. I was thinking: our church is too small; our boys can’t follow and they are also packed on top of one another. So let’s build a more beautiful, larger church, a magnificent one. We will call it: the church of Mary Help of Christians. I don’t have a penny, I’ve no idea where to get the money, but that doesn’t matter. If God wants, it will be done. I will try and if unsuccessful then the shame will all be Don Bosco.s. Tell the people: Coepit aedificare et non potuit consummare.” (MB 7, 333-334).

“Look again,” she told me and I looked again. Then I saw a stupendous, high church. An orchestra, vocal and instrumental music invited me to sing Mass. Inside the church was a white frieze, on which was written in large letters: Hic domus mea, inde gloria mea” (MO 130).

The dream was repeated the following year with one extra detail: the church would be in the “place where the glorious martyrs of Turin, Avventore and Ottavio suffered martyrdom” (MB 2, 229). The dreams Don Bosco only understood later, seeing the development of his work, a tangible sign of divine assistance and Mary’s active maternal presence. It was not so much the desire to do something at all costs about his dream, but the real needs of his boys and the people, along with his devotion to the Virgin which would press him to build “a larger church”.

13.2.1 Historical origins of the title “Help of Christians”

13.2.2 Don Bosco’s inspiring motives

The universally heartfelt need today to call on Mary is not something particular but general; it is not that there are more lukewarm people to inspire, sinners to convert, innocents to preserve. Things like this are useful everywhere, and for anyone. It is the Catholic Church itself that is under attack. It is attacked in its functions, its sacred institutions, its Head, its teaching, its discipline; it is attacked as the Catholic Church, as the centre of truth, as the teacher of all the faithful.
It is to win the special protection of Heaven that it turns to Mary our common Mother as special Helper of the King, the Catholic people, Catholics throughout the world!

(G. Bosco, Maraviglie della Madre di Dio invocata sotto il titolo di Maria Ausiliatrice, Torino, Tip. dell’Oratorio di S. Francesco di Sales 1868, pp. 6–7).

In 1862 Don Bosco told me he was thinking of building a large church and one worthy of the Blessed Mother. “Up until now,” he said, “we have celebrated the feast of the Immaculate Conception solemnly and as a great Feast, and it was on that day that the first work of the festive Oratories began. But Our Lady wants us to honour her under the title of Mary Our Help: our times are so sad that we really need the Blessed Virgin to help us preserve and defend the Christian faith. And do you know one other reason?”
“I believe,” I replied, “that this will be the Mother church of our Congregation, and the centre from which all our other works on behalf of the young will emanate.”
“You have guessed it,” he told me: “Mary is the foundress and will be the support of our works.” (MB 7, 334).

13.2.3 The project and works

Two low bell towers flanked the protruding façade. Entry to the church was through a vestibule which supported the orchestra (a large balcony area). A majestic cupola with sixteen windows stood above the building. From top to bottom it was seventy metres high (note: it turned out to be 45 metres). Behind the high altar, separated by a narrow corridor, was the sacristy from which one could enter the imposing sanctuary. On either side of the cross-arm section were two large altars; and two others in chapels halfway along the lower arm.
Don Bosco liked the plan and said: “Without me pointing out to the engineer any of my special intention for what should control the building of this new church, I saw that there would be a chapel precisely where the Blessed Virgin had pointed to. This is where there will be an altar to the Holy Martyrs of Turin.” (MB 7, 466).

“I would like to immediately give you something for the works completed. I don’t know if it is much but it is all I have.” So saying he pulled out his purse, opened it and emptied it into the master builder’s hands who believed he’d be receiving a handful of marenghi [note: gold coins each worth about 20 francs]. Imagine his and everyone else’s surprise when it only amounted to eight soldi. Don Bosco laughed and said: “Don’t worry; Our Lady will provide all the money needed for the church. I’m just her tool, her treasurer.” And turning to those around him he said: “You will see!” (MB 7, 652).

One on the sanctuary of about 150 tenors and basses representing the Church militant; the other in the cupola of about 200 sopranos and contraltos representing the angels or the Church triumphant; the third choir was made up of other 100 tenors and bases and was in the orchestra and symbolised the Church suffering.

(G. Bosco, Rimembranza di una solennità in onore di Maria Ausiliatrice, Torino, Tip. dell’Oratorio di S. Francesco di Sales 1868, p. 27).

13.2.4 What did Don Bosco’s church look like?

• The high altar with the large picture of the Help of Christians by Tommaso Lorenzone (1824–1902);
• St Peter’s altar, on the right, with a painting by Filippo Carcano (1840–1914) of Milan; today this altar is below in the crypt and Don Bosco’s altar has taken its place;
• St Joseph’s altar, on the left, with a painting by Lorenzone (the only one remaining intact today);
• St Anne’s altar, in the chapel on the right of the central nave: this was the most beautiful one and had plenty of marble; it had been made in Rome by sculptor Luigi Medici, and had a painting by Giovanni Battista Fino (1820–1898): it is now found in the women’s section to the right of the main altar, and the altar itself is dedicated to Saint Mary Mazzarello;
• The altar of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, in the chapel on the left, with a painting by Giovanni Bonetti from Turin (today to be found in Caserta in the Sanctuary of the Sacred Heart of Mary; the altar was later dedicated by Fr Rua to St Francis de Sales; today it is St Dominic Savio’s altar).

If the reader observes this church from the outside, he sees a modern style façade proportionately wide and high. The main door is a masterpiece by Ottone Torinese, designed by Cav. Spezia.
Two bell towers which will soon be surmounted by an angel two metres high in beaten copper, the exquisite work of the Brogi brothers from Milan, stand in front of the cupola. Above one of them is a concerto of five bells in E Flat with which we can play music for singing and also military marches ...

The cupola plated with copper and covered with white lead, stands above the bell towers; this will prevent oxidation, and protect it from strong winds, heat, cold and other inclement weather according to season. Above the cupola is a majestic statue of gilded beaten copper standing about four metres high and the work of Cav. Boggio. It is a gift from a good lady from Turin. The Blessed Virgin is in the act of blessing her devotees who are saying: Nos cum prole pia benedicat Virgo Maria.

If you enter the church by the main door you see two marble columns supporting the orchestra and supported by two pedestals worked in such a way that they also served as holy water fonts. We should not forget the orchestra which is the gift and work of master carpenter Giuseppe Gabotti from Locarno and who lives in Turin.
It has two floors, an orchestra and contra-orchestra with echo or double flooring. It can hold around three hundred musicians.
The flooring is Venetian style. The sanctuaries for each altar are likewise mosaics. The one at the main altar needs no carpet. It is worthy of all the most beautiful solemnities. The balustrades and altars are of marble, and made by Cav. Gussone from Turin except the first on the right as you enter. This was made in Rome by Luigi Medici and paid for by a nobleman from Bologna. The marble here is better than for all the other altars.
If you pause at the centre of the church and turn your gaze to the right of the main altar, you see the pulpit in front of you. It is one of the most splendid items in the church. It is a gift from a noblewoman of Turin who wants to remain unnamed but wants everyone to know that it is an offering made for a grace received, so we find it written in gold letters: To Mary help of Christians for a grace received.
The design and its execution were found worthy of praise. But what makes it especially commendable is that it stands out from the wall, thanks to which the preacher can be seen from any part of the church. It is also worth noting with regard to the preachers, that the shape of the church echoes the voice, so words need to be pronounced distinctly to avoid confusion when speaking.
The two cross-vaults have a door each so that the faithful can easily enter and leave. The cornices of the church and cupola are equipped with iron railing to protect whoever needs to work up there, and also to hold singers and others during major solemnities as we have done during the octave which we are about to talk about.

(G. Bosco, Rimembranza di una solennità in onore di Maria Ausiliatrice, Torino, Tip. dell’Oratorio di S. Francesco di Sales 1868, pp. 14–17).

13.2.5 Restoration and extension

Working on the restoration and decoration of the church of Mary Help of Christians were artist Giuseppe Rollini from Intra, a past pupil of Don Bosco’s; Prof. Carlo Conte from Vercelli for the decorations which are most valuable; engineer and architect Crescentino Carelli from Fubine, especially for the main altar where he enclosed the painting of Mary help of Christians in a magnificent marble frame.
The gables on the façade were raised somewhat and the top of the bell towers modified. (ODB 283).

• Lengthening of the sanctuary over which a second cupola was built, and consequent relocation of the main altar and the painting of Mary Help of Christians;
• Construction of two large chapels either side of the sanctuary, with balconies above;
• A long gallery with six altars behind the main altar, connecting with the two side chapels; Construction of a spacious sacristy behind and towards the former Pinardi house;
• A walkway with two doors behind the facade.

13.2.6 Visiting the Basilica

Amongst the smallest plants but one of the ones with the best perfume, is the nard often spoken of in Holy Scripture. In the Office of the Blessed Virgin it says: Nardus mea dedit odorem suavitatis, my nard gives out a sweet perfume! But do you know what needs to be done for nard to give out its perfume? It needs to be well-crushed. So do not be sorry if you have to suffer. Whoever suffers for Jesus Christ will reign with him in eternity.

You now belong to a Religious Family that belongs completely to Our lady; you are few, you have little and you do not have human approval. But do not worry. Things will soon change ...
Yes, I can assure you the Institute will have a great future if you remain simple, poor, humble.
So observe all the duties of your new circumstances as religious, and supported by our tender mother Mary Help of Christians you will pass undamaged through the shoals of life and will do great good for your souls and those of your neighbour.
Your glory will be your beautiful title of Daughters of the Help of Christians, and often consider that your Institute should be the living monument of Don Bosco’s gratitude to the Great Mother of God, invoked under the title of help of Christians.

(From: G. Capetti [ed.], Cronistoria, vol. I: La preparazione e la fondazione, Roma, FMA 1974, pp. 305–306).

If my soul at the moment is emotional at the thought of your departure, my heart is greatly consoled by seeing our Congregation so strong; seeing that with what little we have we can contribute little stone to the great building that is the Church. Yes, you are also leaving filled with courage; but remember that there is only one Church throughout Europe and America and the whole world and it holds in its bosom all the inhabitants of the entire world who wish to take refuge in its motherly bosom ...
Wherever you go or live my beloved sons, remember that you are Catholic priests, and that you are Salesians ...
Therefore this same Gospel the Saviour preached, and his Apostles, the successors of St Peter down to our own times, the same religion, the same sacraments you must jealously love, profess and preach exclusively, whether you are amongst savages, uncivilised people ...

As Salesians, in whatever remote part of the globe you find yourselves, never forget that here in Italy you have a father who loves you in the Lord, a Congregation that is thinking of you in any circumstance, provides for you and always welcomes you as brothers. Go then; you will have to face all kinds of fatigue, struggles, dangers; but never fear, God is with you, He will give you grave so that you can say with St Paul: By myself I can do nothing, but with divine help I am all powerful. Omnia possum in eo qui me confortat ...

Good bye! Perhaps we will not see each other again in this world. For a short time we will be separated in our bodies, but one day we will be united forever. (MB 11, 386–387).

One day I entered the church of Mary Help of Christians from the main door, towards evening, and when I was about halfway down the church, looking at the painting, I saw that Our lady was covered by a dark drape. I quickly said to myself: “I wonder why the sacristan has covered this picture of Our lady?” And going on a little further towards the sanctuary, I saw that the drape was moving. It fell down slowly until it touched the floor, made an act of adoration to the Blessed Sacrament, made the sign of the cross and went out through the sacristy. The drape was one of Don Bosco’s sons who in an ecstasy of love had been raised up to the level of Our Lady to see her better, contemplate her, love her, kiss her immaculate feet. Another time I came into the church from the sacristy and I saw a boy raised up to the height of the tabernacle behind the choir in an act of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. He was kneeling in the air, with his head inclined and resting against the door of the tabernacle, in an ecstasy of love like a Seraphim in Heaven. I called him by name and he quickly descended to the ground, all upset, begging me not to tell anyone. (MB 14, 487-488).

13.2.7 3.2.7. Beneath the Basilica

I seemed to find myself on a wide plain full of an endless number of boys... They were youngsters who had been abandoned by their families and were corrupt. I was about to go away from there when I saw a Lady next to me who said:
...
“In this place where the glorious Martyrs of Turin, Avventore and Ottavio suffered martyrdom, on these clods of earth bathed and sanctified by their blood, I want God honoured in a special way. Thus saying she put her foot forward placing it where the martyrdom took place, and she showed me precisely where it was. I wanted to mark the place for when I came back to the field, but found nothing around me; no stick, no stone: just the same I remembered it precisely.” (MB 2, 298-299).

13.3 Other buildings Don Bosco built

13.3.1 The Reception (1874 - 1875)

1. It is the strict duty of the doorkeeper to always be in the reception area, to courteously receive who ever comes. If he needs to be elsewhere for his religious duties, or to eat, or whenever he needs to absent himself for some good reason he will be substituted by someone appointed by the Rector.
2. He will never allow anybody into the House without the Superiors’ knowledge, directing to the Prefect those who have financial matters to deal with or who have to deal with things regarding the boys in the House; and to the Rector those who wish to deal directly with him.
3. He will not allow any boys in the House to go out unless they have a note of permission, except when the Superior has provided a note that is to be kept secret, and he will note the item of exit and return. ...
9. He will see that things are quiet and will try to prevent any lack of order in the courtyard and the House; he will forbid rowdy behaviour while scared functions are on, and during school, study and work. ...
12. He will try to keep busy either with his own work or with other tasks asked of him and will make a note of all these; but in accepting and doing them, he should always be gentle and kind, since kindness and gentleness are characteristic virtues of the good doorkeeper. (MB 4, 743–744).

13.3.2 Printing works (1881-1883)

13.4 Former building that have been rebuilt

13.4.1 Filippi house (1861, rebuilt in 1952)

It was considered to be almost a scared place. From the beginnings of the oratory this place had a solemn religious silence about it. Also in winter when it was very cold, when Don Bosco allowed the boys to go to the study for breakfast, the silence, out of respect for the place, was not disturbed. One went in there, once could almost say, on tiptoe and with beret in hand to take your assigned spot. After an Ave Maria, everyone answered Ora pro nobis after Sedes sapientiae, which in 1867 was replaced with Maria Auxilium Christianorum. Don Bosco occasionally went there himself occasionally to give good example and to study along with the others in the common room. It was a marvellous spectacle. Whoever entered and of whatever level, nobody moved from his place, turned his head, or gave a curious look. (MB 7, 556).

13.4.2 Audisio house (1864, rebuilt in 1954)

13.5 Current work at Valdocco

13.5.1 Vocational Training Centre (VTC)

13.5.2 The St Dominic Savio Middle School

13.5.3 The Daily and Festive Oratory

13.5.4 Salesian Marian Centre

13.5.5 The Salesian Circumscription of Piedmont and Valle d’Aosta

13.6 Piazza Maria Ausiliatrice

13.7 Other works Don Bosco began in Turin

13.7.1 The Church and Institute of St John the Evangelist

13.7.2 Valsalice and Don Bosco’s tomb

We decided to change the nature of the college at Valsalice, replacing young nobles with the clerical philosophy students. After the meeting, Fr Barberis was with him alone, and he asked him in all confidence why, after being against that change, he had changed his mind. He answered: “From now on I’ll be looking after this house.” And saying that he kept his eyes fixed on the large staircase that went from the upper garden to the portico of the courtyard below. Then he added: “Get the plans ready.” Since the college had not been completely finished, Fr Barberis thought he wanted to complete the building, so replied: “Good, then I will get it ready; I will present them this winter.” But then he said: “Not this winter but next spring; and you will present the plans to the Chapter, not me.” Meanwhile he kept looking towards the stairs. Only five months later Fr Barberis began to understand Don Bosco’s thinking that is when he saw him buried at Valsalice right at the centre of that staircase; he finally understood everything when the plans for the monument that was to be erected over the tomb were ready. It was spring when they were presented, without him ever saying anything about the conversation back in September. (MB 18, 384-385).

14 Postscript - 2015

• Setting up two floors with accommodation for Confreres, Sisters and other members of the Salesian Family for overnight stays during pilgrimages or retreats that might take place.
• Providing an appropriate camp-site for young people with portable shower and toilet arrangements. (Thousands of young pilgrims will pass through Colle in 2015).
• Setting up a reception point (initial reception, restaurant…).
• Re-organising and updating the two museums: Salesian missions and peasant agriculture.

• Restoring the facade of the Basilica of Mary Help of Christians
• Restructuring the main courtyard at Valdocco as a welcoming place for youth gatherings.
• Completing the Chapel of the Relics, particularly the final resting places of all deceased Successors of Don Bosco.

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