"Hardin's creek settlement

Henry Hagan was an early settler on Hardin's creek, but the writer has vainly sought for evidence that would convince him that he came to the State earlier than the year 1794. It is the common belief of his descendants that he was by birth an Irishman. It is quite certain that for several years before the first Church of St. Charles was built by Father Nerinckx, in 1806, his house was the church- station for the Catholic people of the settlement. He was a man of better resources than his neighbors, and his house was better suited for the purpose to which it was put by Father Badin and his successors in the pastorate of the congregation. He was fairly liked by his neighbors, and he brought up an interesting family of children, of which one, in particular, was a special favorite of Father Badin. Polly Hagan was a precocious child, and she soon evinced capabilities of culture that naturally attracted the notice of the priest. Her headway in this direction would have been slow but for the assistance of her pastor. He loaned her books, and, as occasion served, directed her in her application of their contents. Under his tuition and direction, she became in time an accomplished reader of the vernacular of the country, and this faculty of hers was put to use by her pastor, no doubt, in the reading of lessons previously selected by himself in the hearing of the children and youth of the congregation assembled for catechetical instructions. In time, Polly Hagan, grown to womanhood, became the wife of Basil, second son of Leonard Mattingly, the patriarch of the setders on Hardin's creek.

Edward H. Mattingly, of Marion county, a son of Basil and Polly Mattingly, and an intelligent and highly respected farmer, still living in the neighborhood of his mother's former residence, relates the following amusing incident, in which his mother and Father Badin were the most conspicuous actors:

In the winter of 1837-8, soon after his return to Kentucky, the renowned missionary referred to paid a lengthened visit to the Jesuit fathers then established at St. Mary's College. His quarters were about a mile away from the old Hagan place, and one night he took it into his head to visit the house and see for himself the changes that time had wrought in surroundings that had once been familiar to his eyes. He knew, no doubt, that there was no face there but that of Polly Mattingly upon which he had ever cast eyes; but he wished to see that, and to learn from lips that could tell the story, what had become of friends not yet forgotten, in whose service he had passed no small part of the earlier years of his missionary life. Disguising himself as well as he could, and putting on for the occasion a manner that was the least natural to him, he tramped through the crispy snow the intervening distance, reached the house, lifted the latch without knocking, drew up a chair toward the fire, around which Mrs. Mattingly, then a widow, and her sons and daughters were sitting, and, without uttering a word, and without having previously divested himself of either hat or wrappings, deliberately took his seat in their midst. His silence continued so long that the mother and her elder children began to fear that they had been intruded upon by a madman, and the younger of the brood were to be seen edging away from the fire with frightened faces. Lifting his head at length, which had previously been bent toward the fire, but without removing the muffler that hid the lower part of his face, as his hat did the greater part of his forehead, he asked abruptly :

"Is not this the house in which Henry Hagan used to live?"

"Yes," answered Mrs. Mattingly; "but that was years ago, and there have been many changes in it since."

"Henry Hagan had a daughter named Polly; what has become of her?" asked the unceremonious visitor.

"I am Polly," answered Mrs. Mattingly, "and I am a widow, and these are my children."

Having cast his eyes around the group, as if to ascertain if the Polly of his remembrance had not been reproduced in one or another of the younger generation, the aged missionary thus continued his inquiries:

" And who was it that used to keep church here ?"

"At first it was Father Badin, and afterwards Father Nerinckx," answered the lady.

" I have heard of them," said her visitor, in a musing sort of way, and then he asked abruptly:

"What sort of a priest was Father Badin, and how did the people like him?"

"He was a good priest, I make no doubt, and I thought a great deal of him, because he was kind to me," replied the woman; "but the people generally did not like him a bit; he was cross and crabbed, and he wouldn't let the young folks dance and have a little fun now and then."

Laughing heartily, as he arose and laid aside his cloak and hat and muffler, the old man exclaimed gleefully: "And so, Polly, Father Badin comes back to his people of long ago to find that he is only remembered for his accredited faults! Well, well, it is better so than for lack of severity to have opened the door to all manners of evil."

Mrs. Mattingly was distressed beyond measure when the identity of her visitor and her old pastor was established in her mind, and she tried hard to modify the effects of her unfortunate speech. She was silenced at length by the good father's "Tut, tut, Polly! Don't distress yourself for having given me assurance that you are no less truthful now than when you were a girl ! "

Without waiting for a reply, he wanted to know if Polly Mattingly had improved in reading over Polly Hagan.

"Not at all, Father," replied the lady. "Any of the older of my children can read better than the Polly Hagan of your remembrance."

Nothing would satisfy the priest but that a book should be brought and trial made on the spot. One after another the children were invited to read ; but, whether from natural timidity, or from disinclina- tion to exhibit their elocutionary powers in direct rivalry with their own mother, and in the hearing of the friend of her youth, one after another found excuse for declining the ordeal. It was only at the direct bidding of her mother that Mary Jane, only then a short time returned from the school of Loretto, could be induced to exhibit her skill as a reader. She had been prejudged by her critic, however, and her failure was the natural consequence. Having read but a few sentences, he interrupted her by saying :

' ' That will do, my child ! You will never read as your mother did before she was of your age."*

A long conversation followed between Mrs. Mattingly and her ancient pastor, the burden of which was the dead past. Their minds were peopled with shadowy forms, once known to them as living personalities ; and it is not unlikely that the old priest's after walk to his temporary home at the college was signalized by many a de profundis offered up by him for the souls of former friends, laid to rest since he left the diocese in the not distant grave-yard attached to the Church of St. Charles.

Basil and Polly Mattingly had issue : Mahala, married to Washington Mattingly; Edward H., married to Alethair, daughter of Thomas Spalding, who was an uncle of the late Archbishop Spalding, of Baltimore; Nancy, married to A. J. Mudd ; Mary Jane, married to Joseph Spalding, a half-brother of Archbishop Spalding; Henry, married to Susan Jane Spalding; and Burrilla M., married to J. W. Montgomery. Dr. Ernest Mattingly, a well-known physician of Lebanon, Kentucky, is a grandson of Basil and Polly Mattingly."

Ben. J. Webb, The Centenary of Catholicity in Kentucky. (Charles A. Rogers, 1884; Reprinted by McDowell Publications)