Blessed Bartolo Longo (1841-1926)

by Theresa Cavicchio

Sanctity can reveal itself in many ways, as evidenced by even a quick glance at the lives of the saints. The story of Blessed Bartolo Longo, who will be canonized on October 19th this year, is a case in point. It reveals not a straight path toward sainthood, but rather a circuitous route paved with inherently dangerous implications for the fate of his soul.

Born in the small southern Italian town of Latiano, Bartolo Longo (1841 – 1926) was raised in a staunchly Catholic household where the faith was passed on with great devotion. As Bartolo grew into young adulthood, however, he found himself on a path far adrift from the Church.

This came into full play when Bartolo left home to study law at the university in Naples at a time of strong anti-Catholic sentiment and anticlericalism in Italy. His professors, the majority of whom ascribed to the prevailing climate, so influenced him that hatred grew in his heart toward the Catholic clergy, the Pope, and all aspects of the faith.

At the same time, spiritualism and mysticism had gained widespread acceptance. His misguided search for truth led Bartolo to consult mediums and fortunetellers, attend seances, and explore other occult practices. In his misdirected zeal, he was instrumental in driving others away from the Catholic faith as well. In time, he underwent a period of rigorous physical and spiritual preparation, culminating in his ordination as a priest, conducting satanic rites.

Inevitably, the effects of these practices took a great toll on Bartolo, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He was plagued with nightmares, terrifying visions, exhaustion, and a pervasive feeling of sadness and dread. Still, he attained his law degree during this time, all the while publicly denouncing the Catholic Church and her priests.

Bartolo’s family prayed for him to renounce his satanic practices and return to the true faith. At one very low point, Bartolo heard his deceased father pleading with him: “Return to God! Return to God!”. A turning point in his life finally arrived with the assistance of Vincenzo Pepe, a devout professor, and Dominican Friar Alberto Radente. Bartolo began the road back to the Church, becoming a Third Order Dominican and taking the name Brother Rosario.

The remains of Blessed Bartolo Longo in the Shrine of the Virgin of the Rosary in Pompei, Italy.

That road was not without its obstacles, however. Bartolo was hired by a wealthy widow, Countess Marianna Di Fusco, to manage her property in Pompei, at the foot of Mt. Vesuvius. Bartolo was appalled at the dire poverty, illiteracy, and corruption rampant among the small population. Superstition ran unchecked; catechesis was non-existent; the lone forlorn chapel, barely functional.

Bartolo later wrote describing the effect of all this, combined with the fear that his soul was still in serious jeopardy. "As I pondered over my condition, I experienced a deep sense of despair and almost committed suicide. Then I heard an echo in my ear of the voice of Friar Alberto repeating the words of the Blessed Virgin Mary: ‘If you seek salvation, promulgate the Rosary. This is Mary's own promise.’ These words illumined my soul. I went on my knees. ‘If it is true, I will not leave this valley until I have propagated your Rosary.’"

Thus, Our Lady’s holy rosary, gentle yet powerful weapon, turned Bartolo’s life from deep despair to holy purpose. True to his vow, he worked tirelessly for the rest of his life, promoting the rosary as a means of catechesis and promulgating it widely in person and in print. He and the countess were married and became great benefactors of Pompei – establishing orphanages and elementary and technical schools for children of prisoners, and building housing. He founded an Order of nuns, the Dominican Daughters of the Holy Rosary, to continue the good work begun there. From the ashes of Pompei, where only poverty and despair had dwelled, a living, breathing city – a new Pompei – rose up.

The image depicting Our Lady of Pompei has a miraculous story of its own, beginning at a second-hand shop in Naples. It was in such poor condition that the figures – Our Lady and the Infant Jesus handing the rosary to Saint Dominic and Saint Catherine of Siena – were barely recognizable. After an attempt at restoration, it was hung in the rundown chapel at Pompei, where the faithful began to pray before it.

Almost immediately, miraculous interventions were reported, and word spread quickly. The chapel was repaired, then replaced with a modest church, and further restorations of the painting were performed. Additional enlargements to the church became necessary over time so that today, the stunning basilica holds 6,000. Countless pilgrims arrive there each year to pray before the sacred image at the Shrine of Our Lady of the Rosary of Pompei.

Bartolo Longo died on October 5, 1926, his long life in conversion a testament to the powerful workings of God’s grace, Our Lady, and her rosary. Clear evidence of this can be found in his beatification on October 26, 1980, by Pope John Paul II, who characterized him then as “the apostle of the rosary, the layman who lived his ecclesial commitment totally.” His upcoming canonization confirms his sanctity.

In 2002, Pope John Paul issued his Apostolic Letter, Rosarium Virginis Mariae, including several references to Blessed Bartolo. The letter’s conclusion follows in full:

“I entrust this Apostolic Letter to the loving hands of the Virgin Mary, prostrating myself in spirit before her image in the splendid Shrine built for her by Blessed Bartolo Longo, the apostle of the Rosary. I willingly make my own the touching words with which he concluded his well-known Supplication to the Queen of the Holy Rosary:

‘O Blessed Rosary of Mary, sweet chain which unites us to God, bond of love which unites us to the angels, tower of salvation against the assaults of Hell, safe port in our universal shipwreck, we will never abandon you. You will be our comfort in the hour of death: yours our final kiss as life ebbs away. And the last word from our lips will be your sweet name, O Queen of the Rosary of Pompei, O dearest Mother, O Refuge of Sinners, O Sovereign Consoler of the Afflicted. May you be everywhere blessed, today and always, on earth and in heaven.’”