Alphonse Ratisbonne was born on May 1, 1814. At the age of 11, he began his studies at the Royal College of Strasbourg. He himself confessed:
“I advanced more in the corruption of my heart than in learning.”
When his brother Theodore Ratisbonne declared himself a Christian and was ordained a priest, Alphonse developed a profound hatred for everything religious.
Orphaned of his father, he came under the care of his uncle, a very distinguished and wealthy man. Having no children of his own, his uncle welcomed him as if he truly were his son, surrounding him with every possible comfort. From a very young age, Alphonse became master of his own fortune, and together with the extravagant care of his uncle, he lived only for comfort and worldliness.
He tells us:
“My uncle reproached me for only one thing: ‘You are too fond of the Champs-Élysées.’ I thought of nothing but pleasures. I dreamed only of parties and amusements, and I abandoned myself to them passionately.”
But God’s plans were different.
Shortly before getting married, he decided to postpone the wedding, since his fiancée was still very young, only sixteen years old. Because of this delay, he chose to visit a dear friend in Italy. He enjoyed not only the company of his friend, but also the beautiful architecture and the deeply rooted Catholic faith he observed there, despite the repugnance he felt toward it.
After his stay in Naples, he decided to continue his journey to Palermo. But a providential mistake would forever change the course of his absurd life. He himself recounts in his autobiography:
“How did I arrive in Rome? I cannot say, I cannot explain it. I think I made a mistake, because instead of going to the departure hall for Palermo, where I intended to go, I found myself in the coach offices for Rome.”
While in Rome, visiting his close friend Gustave de Bussières, he met Theodore de Bussières, Gustave’s uncle and a great friend of his brother Theodore. For this reason, Alphonse deeply disliked his presence, even more so after learning that he had converted from Protestantism to Catholicism.
Alphonse recounts:
“I continued wandering through Rome all day long. Monsieur de Bussières spoke to me of the greatness of Catholicism, and I answered with irony and with the accusations I had often read or heard.”
Nevertheless, Monsieur de Bussières said to him:
“Since you detest superstition and profess very liberal doctrines, since you have a courageous and enlightened spirit, would you have the courage to submit yourself to an innocent test?”
“What test?”
“To wear a medal of the Blessed Virgin. It may seem ridiculous to you, but I attach great value to this medal.”
Alphonse confessed:
“I admit the proposal surprised me by its childish originality. I did not expect such an idea. My first reaction was to laugh and shrug my shoulders.”
He put the medal around his neck and burst into laughter:
“Ha! Ha! Now I am Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman!”
He later added:
“It was the devil prophesying through my mouth.”
“Now,” he said to me, “the test must be completed. You must recite morning and evening the ‘Memorare,’ a very short and very efficacious prayer which Saint Bernard addressed to the Virgin Mary.”
I exclaimed:
“Let us leave aside such nonsense!”
At that moment, he said, all his hostility surged within him.
“Very well! I promise to recite this prayer, because even if it does me no good, I suppose it can do me no harm either!”
The next day, January 16, he had his passport stamped and finalized the arrangements for his departure. Yet during the journey he found himself constantly repeating the words of the Memorare. Nevertheless, for reasons he could not explain, he decided to prolong his stay in Rome.
“O Divine Providence!”
He took several walks with Monsieur de Bussières.
“I mocked the most serious things, and added to my ridicule the infernal fire of blasphemies. Saddened, Monsieur de Bussières remained calm and tolerant.”
Once, he said to him:
“Despite your behavior, I am convinced that one day you will become a Christian. There is in you a foundation of honesty that assures me and convinces me that one day you will be enlightened, even if the Lord should have to send you an angel from Heaven.”
“Very well,” I answered him, “because otherwise it would be difficult indeed.”
At midnight between January 19 and 20, he awoke suddenly startled.
“I saw fixed before me a large black cross of unusual size, without the figure of Christ. I struggled to drive away the image, but I could not. Wherever I turned, it remained before me.”
Leaving the café, he encountered the carriage of Theodore de Bussières.
“He stopped and invited me to join him for a ride. We stopped for a few minutes at the church of Saint Andrew delle Fratte. He suggested that I wait in the carriage, but I preferred to get out and look at the church.”
