Léon Papin-Dupont, the devout servant of the Holy Face and of St. Martin, was born January 27, 1797, in Martinique, where his father, Nicolas Léon Papin-Dupont, the descendant of a noble family of Brittany, had sought a refuge from the revolutionary excesses committed in his native island, Gaudeloupe, by the agents of the Convention. He had married a noble and wealthy Creole of Martinique, Mademoiselle Marie Louise Gaigneron de Marolles, who, in a few years, was left a widow with two children, Léon the elder, and Theobald, younger than his brother by four years. Léon was baptized at Lamentin in the Church of St. Lawrence, his sponsors being his grandfather, Jean Baptiste Papin-Dupont, and his maternal aunt, Marie Rose des Verges de Maupertuis.

His childhood passed under the guardianship of his mother, an amiable and accomplished woman, gifted, according to her contemporaries, with many attractive qualities as well as solid virtues, who early instilled into her son a veneration for the great truths of faith, and a love for the service of God.

A trifling incident of his boyhood evinces the frankness of his character and the candor of his soul. He attended a school in the town with other children of his age. It happened one day that the pupils, taking advantage of the absence of the master, amused themselves instead of attending to the duty assigned them. Hearing the uproar, the teacher returned promptly to the room, but apprised of his approach, the boys had quietly resumed their places and had, apparently, been engaged in study. The master inquired into the cause of the disorder, and demanded who were the ringleaders. To judge by their account of themselves, they had behaved with perfect propriety. Only one, the little Léon, acknowledged that he had been playing instead of studying. As he was ingenuously accusing himself, the bell rang for recreation: “Oh! my little friend,” said the teacher to him in a grave manner, “you do not deserve to remain in the company of these good children, you can go play,” and sending him to recreation, he severely reproved the others, and obliged them to continue their studies. When relating this circumstance in his old age in his usual pleasant manner, the servant of God was accustomed to laud, in the highest degree, sincerity and frankness, which, he said, had always proved advantageous to him.

When his age required a more extensive course of study than that pursued at the village school, his mother placed him in an institution in the United States. The political events which were agitating France, forced upon Madame Dupont this painful separation. It was at the period when France, and indeed all Europe were in arms in consequence of the great wars of the empire. The English, revenging the brilliant victories of Napoleon on the Continent, had defeated the French in the colonies. In 1809, they obtained, a second time, possession of Martinique, and held it until 1815. For two years Léon remained at boarding school in the United States; thence he went to France, and continued his education at the college of Pontlevoy. He had the happiness of making his first communion at the age of twelve. Although we are ignorant of the particular circumstances attending this solemn act, we know that Mr. Dupont always regarded this grace as the greatest he had received during his life, and he would often say that his soul had been then inundated with a heavenly joy.

In this sacrament, as from its source, he derived that ardent and tender devotion for the holy Eucharist which so eminently characterized him, and which enabled him, whilst yet a boy, deprived of his father, separated from his mother, surrounded by dangers and temptations, to preserve his innocence and keep the faith.

Providence, however, raised up for him a second father, in the person of his maternal uncle, Count Gaigneron de Marolles, who invited him annually to pass the vacation at his castle of Chissay, on the borders of Touraine. There, in the society of his two cousins, the young Marolles, his brother Theobald who had likewise been sent to Pontlevoy, his cousin Mademoiselle de Beauchamp, and Mademoiselle d’Audiffredi, a young Creole of Martinique, a pupil of Madam de Lignac, at Tours, Léon not only enjoyed the happiness of a home circle, but also profited by the example of a pious family. The ties of friendship he thus contracted were strong, disinterested and lasting. Of a sympathetic and cheerful disposition, he won the affection of all who were associated with him. “He was,” say those who composed the young company assembled during the summer months at the castle of Chissay, “an amiable, attractive child. Sprightly, active, eager to contribute to the pleasure of others, he was the life and soul of the innocent games and amusements of our age, was ready to take his part in any sport, never tired of dancing, driving or riding, whilst he displayed at the same time a strength of resolution, an energy of will, a tenacity of purpose which was unyielding, and which often astonished us.” The following incident strikingly illustrates this characteristic.

One day at Chissay, Léon had climbed on the large outer gate which gave admittance to the grounds of the castle. His cousin, Alfred de Marolles, had mounted on the other side of the gate upon which he was swinging violently. Léon had placed his thumb exactly in the spot where it would be caught, should the gate shut. Alfred continued his sport, but said several times to his cousin: “Take away your thumb, Léon, or I shall crush it.” Léon replied: “Well, crush it, if you choose, I will not move it.” A moment afterwards the gate closed upon the thumb of the obstinate and self-willed Léon, who received so terrible a wound, that the thumb was completely crushed, and that part of his hand was disfigured for life. In this resolute and decided character, we discover the material upon which grace will act, to build the edifice of the most solid and heroic virtues.

In 1815, his studies had terminated. A peace had just been definitely concluded upon the continent, and according to the stipulation, the English were to depart from Martinique. The young Dupont was thus enabled to return to his mother, who, having been left a widow at the age of twenty-two with large possessions to manage, had been united in a second marriage to Mr. d’Arnaud, an extensive landholder at Lamentin, and a member of the Colonial Council. As the schools of the island offered no advantages for a finished education, Madame d’Arnaud did not retain her children with her for any length of time, but sent them to the mother-country in order to prepare them to enter an honorable career in life. Léon, being destined for the magistracy, went to Paris to pursue his studies. He occupied with his brother, Theobald, a furnished apartment in the house of an excellent Christian woman, Madame Contour. Besides the public lectures which he attended, he followed a course of reading under the direction of a private tutor; his family appropriated to him an annual allowance of ten thousand francs.

We find him immediately upon his arrival at the capital received into the brilliant aristocratic society of that period, for which his birth, fortune and elegant manners eminently qualified him. He was frequently in company with the celebrated Laurentie, with Dr. Pignier, a fervent Christian, and with many other young men distinguished by their talents and virtues. He was, however, more intimately associated with a former college companion, who had become a priest, and who already commenced to enjoy the reputation which, later, cast so bright a luster around his name. We speak of the Abbé Frayssinous. By his superior intellect and eminent virtues, this friend of his childhood exercised over the young Creole, a strong and salutary influence, and Léon Dupont owes in a great measure, to this illustrious friendship, the resolution we shall soon see him make, to devote himself to a life of fervent piety and good works.

And, in truth, a residence in Paris was not without its dangers for a young Creole, twenty-one years of age, at a distance from his family, handsome, rich, noble hearted, and with time at his disposal. Léon was profuse in his expenditure, and consumed entirely the large income furnished him. Without disregarding the essential requirements of a Christian life, he yielded to the attractions of fashion and the frivolities of the world. Like other young men in high society, he had his vehicles and handsome horses; he frequented the salons of the nobility, drove his equipage in the Bois de Boulogne, loved dancing, attended balls, where his reputation, fine appearance, and elegant manners, won for him the notice of many mothers, who desired to secure him as a member of their family. His reputation was unsullied, and we have reason to believe that his heart always remained pure. Whilst his life was worldly, it never ceased to be Christian. His intercourse with persons of every rank was marked by such good breeding, that his friends had given him the sobriquet of the “Marquis of Politeness.” Later in life, laughing at this surname, he related how upon one occasion he had brought disgrace upon it by his manner of acting. It was in Martinique, shortly after his return from Paris. One day at Lamentin, a visitor indulged in strong invectives against the martyr king, Louis XVI, for whom this noble family professed the deepest veneration. The “Marquis of  Politeness” lost his temper, and rising, he said to the visitor: “Sir, here is your hat!” and he dismissed him without further ceremony. His good mother, Madame d’Arnaud, was present at this scene, and she often rallied her son upon his want of courtesy.

But at Paris, his delicate and pure conscience could not long remain at rest amid frivolous and worldly amusements. God spoke to his heart, and made him feel that this useless life, without purpose, was not such as he should lead. How bitterly in future years he deplored the time he had thus wasted! In his letters and conversations, he never alluded to this period without expressing his deep regret. His humility even exaggerated its consequences; he speaks of himself as living amid the mire of the world. “I required a powerful grace,” he says, “and suddenly, the light shone upon me and made me realize the importance of leading a Christian life and attending to the great affair of salvation. I was obliged to break certain habits, whilst at the same time my heart clung more closely to the friends whom I had first met.” This he called the period of his conversion. He himself tells us the circumstance which was the exterior cause of the graces he afterwards received.

He was in want of a servant to attend to his horse and carriage. The porter of the hotel where he was lodging, offered his services to procure him a jockey who would suit him in every respect. The offer was accepted, the porter met on the street one of those little Savoyards who were then so numerous in Paris, obtaining a support as chimney sweeps. He called in the boy, interrogated him, and being satisfied that he would perform properly the duties required of him, he cleaned, dressed him in a suitable manner, and instructed him so well, that he soon became a skillful jockey with a pleasing address. But, lo! after commencing satisfactorily the performance of his new duties, the ex-chimney sweep one day was not at his post at the proper time. Mr. Dupont inquired where he had been, and what had caused the delay. He learned from his jockey that a fervent Christian named Bordier, in company with several other young men, was interested in the little Savoyards of Paris, that he assembled them on certain days in the basement chapel of the Foreign Missions, instructed them in the Faith, and prepared these poor children for their first communion. His new jockey, who was only twelve years old, was of the number, and his presence at one of these assemblies had been the cause of his delay. Curious to ascertain the truth of the statement thus made him, the young Dupont went in person at the hour appointed to the place of meeting, and there he found a respectable man, surrounded by a crowd of children, who were listening to his instructions with the greatest attention, and who seemed to love him as a father.

Touched by the scene and filled with admiration for Mr. Bordier, he wished to see him in his own home. During his visit, the young student gave an account, in the sprightly manner so natural to him, of a party of pleasure he had accompanied a few days previous to the Bois de Boulogne, but lamented that it had been interrupted by a violent storm, in consequence of which, he had returned home exhausted by fatigue and drenched with rain. Mr. Bordier ingenuously acknowledged that he had not noticed the storm; and observing that his visitor appeared surprised, he mentioned that, at the hour alluded to, he was in Church assisting at Vespers. “But,” exclaimed the young Dupont, “it was not a Sunday!” “No,” replied Mr. Bordier, “but it was a feast of the Blessed Virgin;” and he named some minor feast which had been celebrated during the week. These simple words made a deep impression upon the young man; he withdrew in confusion, and was mortified upon reflecting that, although professing to be a Christian, he was so ignorant and so unworthy of the name.

Thenceforth he was the intimate friend of Mr. Bordier, and requested to be his associate in his work of charity towards the little Savoyards. From this resolution resulted the change in his manner of life. The work itself always remained dear to him. As soon as he fixed his residence at Tours, he continued there what he commenced in Paris. He assembled on certain days the little chimney sweeps of the city in the chapel of the Carmelites, taught them the catechism, heard them recite their prayers, and prepared them for their first communion. Wherever he might be, if he met a Savoyard in the street, he never failed to give him alms. I never see one,” he would say, “without emotion.”

His intimacy with Mr. Bordier made the young Dupont acquainted with another more important work. We speak of the congregation of the Blessed Virgin which, at that time, was highly esteemed for the immense good it was accomplishing in Paris. Established after the revolution by Father Delpuits, an old Father of the Society of Jesus, the association numbered among its members the flower of the young men of the city, those who reflected honor on their illustrious names by their virtues and talents.

The young Dupont, then about twenty years of age, had no sooner heard of the congregation than he requested to be admitted. Beiug received, he obeyed the rules and performed the exercises of charity without human respect, carefully and with the fervor and simplicity which belonged to his character. The following incident will illustrate this.

Once when on a journey, he passed a Sunday at Nantes, and entering a church early in the morning, he requested one of the pastors of the parish to hear his confession, as he wished to communicate. The priest, seeing before him a handsome young man evidently belonging to the fashionable world of Paris, doubts his sincerity and hesitates to hear him; so unusual it was for a young man in high life to brave human respect and publicly demand holy communion on an ordinary Sunday. Mr. Dupont, divining his suspicions from his embarrassed manner, informed him frankly that he belonged to the congregation of Mary, and was accustomed to approach the Sacraments every week. The pastor equally surprised and pleased received him cordially.

Léon was most generous and kind hearted in relieving the wants of poor families. A Catholic bookseller of Paris relates the following circumstance: “In 1821, I was present at the meeting of the creditors of a poor stationer, the father of a family, who was bankrupt, and obliged to suspend payment for want of fifteen hundred francs. Mr. Dupont entered the store to make some purchases. He was so struck by the sadness depicted on the countenances of the gentlemen assembled, that he asked the cause. On receiving the reply, he pointed to the street and said: “Take my horse and tilbury, sell them and pay the debt.” This spontaneous act of charity made such an impression upon the creditors of the poor merchant, that they did not push him for immediate payment, and by degrees, he was enabled to recover himself and continue business. I should not be surprised,” observes the narrator, “if the sanctity of Mr. Dupont dated from that period.”

Grace, in reality, gradually transformed his life and character and led him on to perfection. The excellent Madame Contour, who was brought in daily contact with him, and to whom he often confided his little troubles and difficulties, always spoke of him in the highest terms. She said of him that even when he yielded to his natural vivacity, he so quickly regained his self-control, his repentance was so frank and sincere, that he won more esteem by his act of virtue than he lost by the fault.

One day, as he was about to leave the house, Léon missed a note of a thousand francs which he had intended to change. He eagerly looks for it; he is pressed for time, as friends expect him. Besides the anxiety and precipitation of the search, he is troubled by the fear of failing in politeness to those who are awaiting him. All these feelings are expressed in his gestures, the tones of his voice and his exclamations of annoyance. He becomes impatient, and then suspicious. He had sent for Madame Contour who aided him in his search. At last in a passion he pointed to his servant and said: “There is the culprit: he only has been here.” The servant turned deadly pale, but did not speak. Madame Contour replied: “Calm yourself, Mr. Léon; I will examine into this affair. You are obliged to meet friends. I will advance the money you require to-day; leave me your keys, I will make a thorough examination.” Satisfied for the moment, Léon thanked her and went to fulfil his engagement, but still suspicious of his servant. After his departure, his landlady opened every drawer of his writing desk, and searched them without success. At last, the idea occurred to her to remove the drawers, when to her great joy she found the note pressed against the back of the desk where it had been caught by the drawer. The poor servant had followed his master and, of course, was ignorant of the fortunate discovery. Madame Contour met her young guest on his return and handed him the bank note. She had scarcely time to explain to him where she had found it, when without a moment’s hesitation, Léon cast himself on his knees before his servant, begged his pardon with tears, and in his generosity, never omitted an opportunity which offered to repair the injury he had done him by his unjust suspicions.

Towards the close of his residence in Paris, a circumstance procured him, as he says, “the honor of making the acquaintance of Madame Barat, the venerable foundress of the religious of the Sacred Heart.” We give the account in his own words; we shall discover in it more and more his extreme modesty, and the kind of good works which occupied him at that time.

“A lady,” he says, “addressed me one day in the parlor of a mutual friend, and gave a rather imperative direction. ‘Go see the Superioress of the Convent in Varenne street’—it was the old Biron hotel bought by Madame Barat, in 1820—‘and try to obtain from her a deduction on the board of the Misses de X—–. The family is pecuniarily embarrassed, and the friends cannot appear personally in the matter. A disinterested stranger can more delicately make the agreement.’ Although perplexed at being selected for such a mission, I discharged it as simply and with as little awkwardness as possible. Madame Barat received me cordially, explained the reasons which influenced her decision to refuse the deduction requested, notwithstanding  her personal interest in the family. My confidence increased as she continued to speak; we came to terms; she made a slight abatement in the charge, and I paid the remainder of the portion which the family de X—–  were unable to meet. In order to avoid wounding their feelings, they were not informed of our arrangements which remained a secret between Madame Barat and myself.”

Thus already the zeal and virtue of the young Dupont designated him as one to whom the most delicate missions could be safely entrusted, and his reserve and generosity proved him worthy of the confidence reposed in him. During his whole life, he continued the virtuous friendships and the intimacies he then contracted. He visited afterwards and kept up a correspondence with Madame Barat, as well as with other ladies of the Sacred Heart. Mr. Bordier went several times to see him at Tours, and, at last, bequeathed him his whole fortune. Dr. Pignier, the Abbé Lacroix, and many others, remained his faithful and devoted friends.

The above account contains all that is reliable and interesting concerning his life whilst a student at Paris. We subjoin a little incident, giving it in his own words. It illustrates strikingly his prominent characteristics, frankness of character and candor of soul.

“Whilst I was studying law,” he says, “I received instructions from a private tutor, and I exempted myself, of my own will, from attending the public lectures. The time for my examination was drawing near, when I would be required to present certificates attesting my presence at the lectures. What could I do? I determined to visit the Professor at his own home, and make a personal application to him. I did not know his residence, but having made inquiries I went to the designated street and number, and asked the porter if the Professor had returned. ‘He has this moment passed you,’ he answered, ‘and has gone to his room. Follow him.’  I introduced myself to the Professor, with whom I was not acquainted, whom I had never even seen before, and made known to him the object of my visit, which was to obtain the certificates necessary to admit me to my examination. He politely requested me to be seated, and interrogated me immediately as to my assiduity in in attending his lectures. Then I acknowledged frankly and without disguise, that I had never been present at any of the lectures, that this was the first time I had even had the honor of seeing him, which I must plead as my excuse for the impoliteness of which I had just been guilty in not saluting him when he passed me in the hall. This simple admission on my part, seemed to make a great impression upon him; for, instead of reproaching me as I deserved, he exclaimed quickly: ‘Ah! here is one, at least, who admits his absence. You are the first I have found with sufficient sincerity and frankness to state his case truthfully. All the other students, under similar circumstances, persist in denying their fault. According to their own account, they are models of exactitude, and never absent themselves from a single lecture. If I remark to any among them: ‘I noticed you were not present on such a day;’ they invariably reply: ‘You are mistaken, sir, I was certainly there; you did not notice me.’  ‘Would you believe,’ he continued with increasing animation, ‘that recently a student whom I was reproaching for non-attendance at the lectures, had the audacity to tell me that if I had not seen him, it was because he was hidden from me by the intervening pillar. Now there is no pillar in the hall.’  After speaking for some time in the same strain, he said: ‘My young friend, come two or three times. Since you tell me that you have pursued a course of study under a private teacher, I believe you, and I have confidence in your acquirements. I will put some questions to you to satisfy myself as to the extent of your information, and I will sign the requisite certificates.’  This, in reality, he did for me.”

His law studies were not unprofitable to him. He received an appointment in the royal court of Martinique, whither he returned and joined his mother, being then twenty-four years of age. The profession of law, in which he now held an honorable position, was agreeable to him, but he felt another attraction; even before his departure from Paris, his thoughts turned towards the ecclesiastical state, and he expressed his desire to enter the Seminary of Saint Sulpice; his friends, his family, Madame d’Arnaud, all opposed his design. Such were his dispositions on his return to his native island. He there continued the kind of life he had led in Paris, devoting himself to works of piety and charity; whilst at the same time, he allowed himself the amusements of young men of his age, and took his part in the social pleasures of the family. He was skilled in all athletic exercises, loved the chase and long rides on horseback; his company was eagerly sought at balls and parties; but his reputation remained untarnished; he was always regarded as a virtuous young man, manifesting on all occasions and sometimes in a striking manner, a sovereign horror for vice, and for all that had even the appearance of vice.

One day he gave vent to his strong feeling on this point with a colonial vivacity excusable considering the motive which actuated him, and his position as councillor of the court. He was assisting at High Mass on a Sunday in the parish church of Lamentin. A mulatto girl, decked in the finery so pleasing to feminine coquetry, was turning her head from side to side, trying to attract the attention of those around her. “As we were standing during the Preface,” says Mr. Dupont, “I became so indignant on seeing the airs of the woman, that from my pew, the door of which separated me from her, I leaned over and gave her a box on the ear which quieted her immediately.” In this summary punishment, inflicted by the young councilor, we have evidence both of the strength of his faith and the purity of his heart.

His zeal was equally apparent in the practice of works of mercy and of charity; and in all these works, he regarded primarily their moral and religious aspect. Soon after his return to Martinique, he adopted a little girl, his goddaughter, and during his whole life watched over her with paternal solicitude and tenderness. Learning that this child, the daughter of a French officer, had lost her father, and that the family had selected for her godfather a gentleman, very rich, but not desirable in a religious point of view, he offered to present her at the baptismal font with the intention of taking upon himself her future support and of sending her to be educated at the Sacred Heart by the religious of Madame Barat. When she had attained her seventh year, he sent her to France on board of the Elizabeth, which was freighted with sugar. She still lives and remembers how Mr. Dupont took her to Lamentin to pass several days before embarking, sending to her at table the little birds he had killed, and finally accompanying her to Saint-Pierre, ascending the ladder of the ship before the child, who held on to the spurs of her godfather. After a passage of fifty-two days, she was placed at the Sacred Heart of B—–, and the pious councilor never ceased to guide her by his letters and advice, and to aid her in every manner.

His brother, Theobald, soon joined him in Martinique, but he shortly afterwards was attacked by a fever, which carried him off in three days. This sudden and unexpected death, whilst it was a terrible blow to Madame d’Arnaud, influenced the future career of her elder son. Léon, when at Paris, had felt his heart moved by a vague desire to embrace the ecclesiastical state. We are told that he would then gladly have renounced civil preferment to enter the Seminary. In Martinique his mind was possessed by the same idea, and he confided to his mother his hopes and aspirations. Madame d’Arnaud, a woman of strong feeling and still young, was disquieted by his designs and expressed great opposition. By the advice of his friend, the Abbé Landas, a worthy priest, Léon relinquished the project, and one day asked and obtained his mother’s consent to demand in marriage Miss d’Audiffredi.

Miss d’Audiffredi was in the twenty-fourth year of her age. Mr. Dupont had been acquainted with her for a long time. Like himself, she had been educated in France. Whilst he was pursuing his studies at the College of Pontlevoy, the young girl was in Tours, at the boarding-school of the Ursulines, directed by the Reverend Mother de Lignac. Under such guidance, Caroline had grown up in piety and in the exercise of every virtue. Being at a distance from her home and country, she was accustomed to pass her vacations at the castle of Chissay, with Mr. de Marolles, an acquaintance and friend of her father, where Léon Dupont also went during the holydays. Her education being completed, she had returned to Martinique about the same time as the young student. She is represented to us by those who were acquainted with her as a woman of great virtue and amiable disposition, but of a frail constitution. The nuptial mass was celebrated with great solemnity the 9th of May, 1827, in the Church of Our Lady at Trois-Ilets, a small town where the family d’Audiffredi resided.

Not long afterwards, Mr. Dupont established himself at Saint-Pierre, in order to be nearer the court, where his duties as a municipal officer frequently called him. He purchased in this village a fine property called “l’hôtel des Follets;” he jokingly named it “la maison Follette.” The gardens are adorned with several ponds of water; one was particularly beautiful, and in this, accompanied by his brother, he had often, when a boy, amused himself in swimming; he was an expert swimmer, and delighted in exercising his strength in feats of agility.

The hôtel des Follets is still standing. When he left Martinique, it was purchased by the city authorities of Saint-Pierre, who established in it a seminary, directed by the Fathers of the Holy Ghost. It is a vast and important estate, rising as an amphitheater along the declivity of the hill, offering by its fine position a view of incomparable beauty. The house faces the sea, on the heights of the parish of “Strength,” at the extremity of the street of “Good Children,” and it is reached by a path known under the name of “Ascent to Heaven;” names significative to Mr. Dupont, who often made them the theme of his mystical commentaries, or the subject of a laughing remark.

There the councilor of the royal court of Saint Pierre, with his amiable and virtuous wife, fixed his residence. Alas! they were not destined to live long together. This charming abode was to become suddenly the scene of a great joy and a great sorrow. God often presents in the state of marriage a bitter sacrifice to be accepted, whilst bestowing, at the same time, benedictions and holy joys. Mr. Dupont experienced at Saint-Pierre, as at Paris, an attraction to a life of piety and a degree inconsistent with the worldly pleasures and family joys towards which his natural tastes inclined him, and which his position in society required of him. God, in order to fix his wavering will, was about to strike a heavy blow. Like Abraham, the father of the true believers, He will call upon this pious layman to leave his home and native land, and He will show him another land where, not by the priestly office, but by the apostleship of prayer and charity, he is destined to be the tutor of orphans, the support of the poor, the salvation of sinners, the model of the Christians of his time. This vocation has appeared to us uncertain, and thwarted by man: contact with suffering and the light derived from trials, will unfold it clearly before him.