Girard0334

7 July 1844 – Isidore Grézel to Father Jean-Claude Colin, Wallis

APM OW 208, Grézel.

One sheet of gray paper and one leaf of yellow paper, comprising six written pages. Poupinel's annotation appears at the top of the first page.

Translated by Merv Duffy and ChatGPT, August 2026.

[At the top of p. 1]

[In Poupinel's hand:] Central Oceania / Wallis, 7 July 1844 / Mr. Grézel

[p. 1]

Jesus, Mary, Joseph

Wallis Islands, 7 July 1844.

My Reverend Father,

[1]

Since my departure from France, I have hesitated several times to write to you. I kept postponing this sweet consolation because I had a presentiment that you would not receive my letters favourably, on account of the unfavourable reports that the Bishop of Amata gave you about me and which it would be very difficult for him to prove. At last, I overcame all reluctance out of love for the virtue of obedience, which requires us to send you news of ourselves at least once each year. I leave your paternal goodness free to think whatever it wishes about the reports that have reached you. Nevertheless, I would have no difficulty in justifying myself. If it were necessary to discuss everything that happened, it would be enough for me to quote the Bishop of Amata's own words during our final conversation, on the eve of his departure from Wallis for New Caledonia. They sufficiently prove that I was not entirely at fault.

[2]

Be assured, my Reverend Father, that if I had to struggle throughout the voyage, it was because I was forced to do so. I was regarded as a useless castoff placed aboard a ship to end a miserable life in a distant land, as though I could not have settled elsewhere. Furthermore, I was told in plain terms that I would be treated more harshly after I had taken my vows. This is not how missionaries should act, especially Marists, who ought to love and help one another as brothers. Several times at the commander's table, officers aboard the Uranie defended me when the Bishop of Amata criticized me a little too severely. Without disparaging his good qualities, it is right to tell you that he spoke somewhat indiscreetly about certain matters that he should have kept silent, and that if he had not been so partial, there would not have been so many troubles and disputes between us and the Picpus Fathers.

[3]

Moreover, in taking Brother Taragnat as his servant, the Bishop of Amata did not act with all the necessary discretion. Throughout the voyage, he showed him too much affection and granted him too many privileges. He seemed to be some great genius to whom we all owed special consideration. Consequently, it was this Brother who directed everything. He even tried to give advice to the priests, which often earned him some unfavourable remarks. Eventually, he became so aloof that he no longer frequented the common quarters. When he needed something, he came to fetch it while we were having breakfast or dinner, because, as His Lordship's servant, he ate with the commander's servants an hour after us. He ordinarily remained in His Lordship's cabin, and we saw only Blaise, to whom Taragnat did not even deign to speak and whom he frequently had no hesitation in hurting. Taragnat always behaved very rudely toward the Picpus Fathers, both in words and actions, and the Bishop of Amata merely laughed instead of correcting him. All this did not give a favourable impression of the Society.

[4]

Ah, my Reverend Father, how sad is the existence of missionaries among whom disunity and discord prevail. If my thoughts sometimes turned back toward France, it was because I had left behind brothers whom I loved and who returned my affection, whereas during our voyage I had no one but Father Mathieu from whom to obtain help and advice.

[5]

I was ill several times before we reached Valparaíso, and the Bishop of Amata merely laughed about it. Furthermore, Father Roudaire and Brother Blaise fell ill at the same time as I did, and with the same illness. My bed was almost between theirs. Yet His Lordship came to see them without even deigning to look at me. During the severe illness I suffered in the storm at the Río de la Plata, I remained for an entire day lying on a gun battery, and none of our companions deigned to [p. 2] offer me the slightest assistance. It was a stranger who, moved by compassion, came and offered me his services. All this was noticed and did not make a good impression. People spoke to me about it at length, and I did not know what to say to excuse them.

[6]

I am not sending you these details in order to complain. The trouble is past, and I no longer think about it. I am accustomed to the sea now; the missionaries of Central Oceania are almost its inhabitants. I thought, however, that you would like to know these details so that you might be informed about what is happening. I am not the only person who has experienced difficulties, for in every previous group that was sent out, there was always someone who was regarded unfavourably by the others. If several Brothers in New Zealand are leaving the mission or becoming discouraged, this arises partly from ill-treatment by subordinate superiors. I know this from definite information given to me by members of the mission who witnessed it themselves. I no longer pay attention to the hardships I have suffered; they are not worth the trouble. But I assure you that if I reached the battlefield assigned to me, it was through a special act of Providence. I was on the point of leaving at Valparaíso because of the troubles being caused for me.

[7]

The men from Auvergne would have been largely responsible for it. Somewhat infatuated with the new mission specially entrusted to them, these gentlemen displayed a degree of self-importance. They did not possess the restraint appropriate to a Marist. They believed they would succeed in their mission better than anyone else; may God grant it! Furthermore, the Bishop of Amata placed too much reliance upon the French government, which no doubt made him many promises that came to nothing. This became apparent at Wallis. His Lordship is now in a position to see whether such words can be relied upon. He had been promised that a warship would visit him while transporting the Fathers who were aboard the Phaéton, but the French are having so much difficulty establishing themselves in the new colony that nothing can be expected from them. Our gentlemen were obliged to hire a small French ship, the Adolphe, to come and join us. They paid six thousand francs, and the additional five thousand that the Bishop of Enos paid to have them taken to their destination while visiting his small district will mean that the mission has spent eleven thousand francs while waiting for Mr. French Government. We do not know when the Bishop of Amata will be visited. We have no opportunity to send him the remainder of his belongings, which have just arrived. He will have to wait patiently for a favorable opportunity. In the meantime, however, I could quite properly repeat to him what he often said to me: Let whoever can fend for himself.

[8]

He thought I would be unable to manage, but he need only come and see, and he will recognize that, for as long as God grants me strength, I shall be capable of hard work. Wisdom and health are what I ask of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and whatever the work may be, with help from above I shall accomplish it. The Bishop of Enos is good; one is happy with him, and I congratulate the missionaries who will come to serve under his banners. Nevertheless, they will suffer greatly from the climate, especially if they have a robust constitution. The tropics are terrible and cause many illnesses. One experiences severe pains in the stomach and chest and is exposed to the diseases of the country: greatly swollen legs, a swollen abdomen, and ulcers on the body. The food provides little nourishment, and one has difficulty becoming accustomed to it. Father Roudaire paid a heavy price at the beginning of his stay at Wallis. I thought we would lose him, but he has recovered and is now in very good health. I have suffered greatly from pains in my chest, stomach, and eyes, to the point of throwing myself upon a pallet to ease the pain. I am not yet free of them. I am obliged to eat very frequently during the day, although less often than at the beginning of my stay here. I am not yet acclimatized. [p. 3] The heat still makes me suffer. My clothing is almost always wet against my back, winter as well as summer. No fire is needed in these regions except for cooking food.

[9]

I work as much as I can to make myself useful to the mission. I have not yet received Holy Orders. This does not surprise me when I consider everything reported to the Bishop of Enos by Bishop Douarre, with whom I was not on good terms during the voyage. I assure you that I do not refuse to undergo trials. I shall try to acquire the good qualities needed by a missionary, but I shall never consent to become a Brother unless Providence makes this known to me in a special way. This aversion came upon me here, where I examined that position somewhat carefully. I shall struggle as much as a good missionary can. Struggle is the daily fare of this country. I submit to enduring every hardship; that is indispensable, and it must be done without relief.

[10]

Here, anyone who becomes ill manages as best he can. The Brothers still provide some assistance, at least as much as their work permits, but the Fathers leave you entirely alone. They experience the same thing when they themselves are unwell. I do not know whether this is an established rule throughout Oceania, but the custom existed when we arrived here. In the missions, each person thinks of himself and manages as best he can.

[11]

On our way to Wallis, we passed through Tonga, where Fathers Chevron and Grange and Brother Attale were stationed. They were in the greatest destitution. Father Grange's health is almost ruined. He is as thin as a skeleton. His decline began in New Zealand. Their small Christian community was fairly numerous, and two great chiefs belonged to it. The Bishop of Enos is to bring Father Grange back to Wallis so that he may recover. We expect him from day to day. Two days after His Lordship's departure, we received a letter from Father Chevron requesting His Lordship's presence in Tonga. It reported 114 Catholics and 300 catechumens. The schooner belonging to the Protestant ministers in Tonga delivered it. It was addressed to a white man of English origin, so they were none the wiser.

[12]

We also learned that the catechist sent to Fiji reported poor results because of the Methodist ministers, who are as furious as werewolves against Catholicism. They employ the most shameful means to discredit us, but their work makes little progress despite this. Their misconduct clearly shows that they are carrying out a diabolical work. They are wicked men. To dislodge them, they must be attacked in their stronghold with the mine of religion and driven from Oceania. They are demons; everywhere they spread discord. Any means is acceptable to them, provided that they succeed.

[13]

Upon arriving at Wallis, we saw great wonders. They would have been greater still had the Bishop of Enos not been hindered by Father Viard, whom Bishop Pompallier had left at Wallis as superior of the mission in the hope that he could later have him appointed Bishop of Central Oceania. Providence, however, which makes sport of human plans, decided otherwise, to everyone's satisfaction. Father Viard was wounded by Bishop Bataillon's appointment and, despite all the advantages His Lordship offered him, wished to return to New Zealand. He felt humiliated on seeing his subordinate preferred to him. I know all this from trustworthy people. I even heard him tell Bishop Bataillon that the Bishop was not doing what he wanted for his beloved mission. Furthermore, I once found a letter that this Father had written to the Bishop of Enos. Its tone, manner, and style astonished me greatly, and I clearly recognized the truth of everything I had been told. Recently we received a letter from Bishop Pompallier, who, having learned of Bishop Bataillon's appointment, urgently demanded Father Viard's return. He had already departed, however, and the Brothers at Wallis did not regret him. Ah, my Reverend Father, incredible things happen in these missions. I would not have believed it before coming here. I am certain that you are not told about all these troubles in every respect. It is only here, on the spot, that the truth comes to light.

[14]

New Zealand is sinking, but not because it has given too much to the Wallis mission. It was time for us to arrive and assist the poor unfortunate men stationed here. Always promises and never fulfillment was New Zealand's motto. [p. 4] One can go far with that! Things will operate on a different basis from now on, and whoever can will manage. It was time to establish a diocese in Central Oceania. The difficulty of communicating with New Zealand placed the missionaries in the central region in an awkward position.

[15]

The Tonga mission will become important. Father Calinon and Brother Regnault will establish a new station a short distance from Father Chevron. Father Favier will replace Mr. Roulleaux at Futuna; Roulleaux will go to Fiji with Mr. Bréhéret and Brother Annet. Several natives of Wallis accompanied these good missionaries as catechists. These were His Lordship's arrangements before his departure. Whether he has changed them, we do not yet know. Since my arrival in Oceania, I have not yet found any truth in what Father Épalle said about these peoples. We must suppose that the people he saw were different. I also believe that enthusiasm greatly embellishes the accounts sent to France. It would be better to make known the hardships of the missions, so that remedies might be provided and the poor missionary assisted, for he would often succumb were he not sustained by divine strength. The missionaries' strength is exhausted through lack of care, and it is impossible to obtain in Oceania the comforts needed for such a way of life. We must have recourse to America. This supports the belief that a ship is indispensable for our mission.

[16]

It is true that one forgets oneself somewhat when witnessing the fervor of our neophytes and the good that religion produces among this cannibal people. When one is present at their religious gatherings, one is moved to the depths of the soul. I wish you could be there, my Reverend Father. You would weep with joy at seeing these new converts bless the Eternal One with their singing. We are obliged to give them French melodies; Roman chant provides nothing suitable for them. They have a fine ear and can distinguish perfectly well when a false note is sung. Accordingly, they all have accurate and beautiful voices. Send us notated Books of Hours from Lyon, Paris, and Besançon. We shall find beautiful chants in them, and our natives will pray to God for you. They are always asking you for beautiful chants: hiva, lelei.

[17]

Several young men remain with us as a mark of respect. They work in the plantations and are very well behaved. Among them is a chief whom the others obey. When one of us travels around the island, two or three of our young men accompany us. I often travel by boat to the other station and am always accompanied by some of our young men. I remain at a station situated at the harbour; the other is two hours from here. In our whaleboat, I make the journey quickly. I am becoming more of a sailor every day. This is necessary in Oceania, for the sea is almost our natural element.

[18]

It is at the Matautu station that the printing house will be built. We shall suffer greatly from mosquitoes, insects whose bite feels as though a needle were being driven into the flesh. Night and day, these creatures devour us. They are the greatest plague of the tropics and my greatest torment. Never have so many been seen as this year. Without them, Oceania would be an earthly paradise to the eye: always green and always warm, although sometimes a little too warm.

[18]

There is much suffering to endure. Do not conceal this from the missionaries who will come. It is essential that they be told, but there is also much good to be done for these poor native people. Send missionaries in great numbers to Central Oceania. It is the most important of the missions. It must overthrow Satan's empire in these regions.

[19]

Another thing that struck me greatly is the harshness shown toward the Brothers. For the most part, these poor unfortunate men work like convicts. They are largely responsible for keeping the mission running, yet they are treated harshly and subjected to great demands. If there are any comforts, they are deprived of them. I noticed this several times but said nothing because it did not concern me. I even heard them voice complaints, although only in secret. I shall always give them good advice, but for my own part, given their position, I would rather be a servant than a Brother. I cannot remedy these abuses; I merely inform you of them. I have observed something of this harshness in the Bishop of Enos. Whether he has reasons for it, I do not know. It is not for me to make observations to him. Although a priest is above them by virtue of his character, he could nevertheless show them greater charity and consideration.

[p. 5]

[20]

Please excuse me, my Reverend Father, for continuing my letter on a separate sheet. Paper is so precious and rare in these regions that we are obliged to use it sparingly and place the lines as close together as possible. We cannot observe every desirable convention, but goodwill compensates for everything. I shall refrain from giving you details about the mission. I expect that His Lordship has kept you informed about everything; he is in a better position to do so than I am.

[21]

Nevertheless, I shall not pass over in silence a secret conspiracy which, thanks be to God, did not succeed as its supporters intended. The principal actors in this party were a brother of the king, several other minor chiefs as devilish as he was, and a Protestant catechist. All these individuals became Protestants, drawing with them everyone they could. Their intention was to kill the young chief about whom you will have heard. He has supported and frequently still supports both sides for and against Bishop Bataillon, for this hot-headed man controls the entire island. The king would then have suffered the same fate. Sovereign power would have fallen into the hands of this young brother of the king, who would then have had everyone who remained Catholic massacred.

[22]

A conspiracy of this kind had been brewing for a long time. They had attempted to involve several great chiefs but had been unable to succeed. Finally, it broke out, and several chiefs upon whom they had counted withdrew and remained Catholic, leaving the conspirators ashamed of being so few in number. Nevertheless, they increased their numbers by forcibly turning several inhabitants of the island. His Lordship and Father Mathieu checked this somewhat by going to meet them one day when they were assembled and demanding an explanation for the malicious statements they were making against both the Catholic religion and its ministers. All their arguments were written down on a sheet of paper, with a seriousness that disconcerted them. This manner of proceeding frightened them so much that by the end of the meeting they found themselves cornered like foxes whose tails had been cut off. Everyone had flocked to this meeting, and Bishop Bataillon's manner of proceeding was applauded.

[23]

These Protestants have already attempted several times to take the life of this young chief, without succeeding in bringing him down. At present they are somewhat quiet, and we do not know what they are plotting. The Catholics have placed themselves on their guard. Weapons have been prepared for war, and guards are posted day and night on every approach. We do not yet know what the result of all this will be. Whatever happens, if the Catholics were unfortunately defeated, our lives would be in great danger; and if the conspiracy had succeeded, we might no longer be alive.

[24]

Their actions are political. This young brother of the king wishes to reign. Recently, he suffered several affronts and would like to avenge himself. The king cannot remedy any of this because he is an old fool. Never has such a wretched government been seen. It is complete anarchy, and there is no means of correcting it for as long as this generation remains. We cannot improve matters, for whenever we do the slightest good, these wicked Protestants spread the rumor that we act in this way because France is going to seize the country, together with a thousand similar slanders. These poor, overly credulous native people would readily believe such things if we did not immediately correct them. They are as childlike as it is possible to be.

[25]

The laws of this country [p. 6] are the will of the chiefs. Whatever they want, they must have, whether others consent or not, and one must take great care not to resist. These demands apply only to the indigenous people. If a subordinate chief commits the slightest foolish act, the king remedies it with an even greater one in order to assert his authority. Only two men on the island are capable of this: the king and the young chief about whom His Lordship has told you so much. The latter has not yet been baptized and still has several wives. He lives like an animal. We must hope that the Blessed Virgin will humble his pride and make him bow his head beneath the yoke of religion. As for the king, he is baptized, attends Mass, and that is all. I believe he still has his wives. He is swollen with pride and is a devourer of pouaka (pigs). A fine bench was made in the church for him alone. Instead of standing in front of it, he climbs on top of it. What an odd fellow!

[26]

As I told you above, the Protestant schooner came to Wallis. There were two Methodist ministers aboard. They greatly encouraged their faithful by promising that an English warship would soon come to support them. The Protestants here were not very pleased with them because they did not give them many presents. They are said to have left two men and two women as catechists. His Lordship's departure for Tonga greatly unsettled them, and they left immediately. They are the greatest hypocrites one could ever see. It appears that Mr. Chevron is causing them considerable trouble in Tonga, and he is right to do so. I would like to help him struggle against those monsters. I assure you that I cannot bear to see them. All my life, I have had a pronounced hatred for that vile lot. May God grant me the grace soon to march against them!

[27]

I believe that it was for this purpose that Providence preserved my life in an accident that happened while our gentlemen were here. We did not have much to eat, even though eleven Marists were gathered together. I asked two natives to come with me, and we went hunting in the woods. The gun I had belonged to Mr. Calinon, who had obtained it in Tahiti. I used the weapon successfully for the first five shots and therefore had five pigeons. With the sixth shot, I killed another pigeon, but the percussion nipple flew off with the discharge. It passed so close to my left ear that it could scarcely have made it any hotter. Fortunately, I had tilted the gun slightly; otherwise, I would have been killed. I then realized that the nipple on this barrel was defective and that the gun could only have been sold for that reason. I informed Father Calinon, who told me that he had not noticed it. I regarded this event as a visible sign of Providence's protection over its missionaries. I was working for the small community and was rewarded for it. May God be blessed a thousand times! No doubt God has spared me for better work. May His will be done!

[28]

When His Lordship makes his pastoral visits, I am always the one who accompanies him. As soon as they are completed, I return to the village of Saint Joseph, situated at the harbor. Father Mathieu and your servant live there. Brother Joseph remains at Matautu with Father Roudaire; Brother Augustin goes wherever there is work to be done. At present, he is preparing the timber and tables for the printing house. I do not yet know how it will operate, but I do not have a very favorable opinion of it, because we are not sufficiently trained for such work. Nevertheless, I hope it succeeds. We do not yet know whether we shall be able to assemble the iron press.

[29]

Before his departure, His Lordship assembled us and appointed Mr. Chevron and Mr. Mathieu as his pro-vicars. Father Mathieu is also sub-provincial and procurator of the missions for the time being.

[30]

I conclude, my Reverend Father, by asking you to accept the respectful sentiments of one of your children in Oceania,

Isidore Grézel