Girard1207

21 December 1852. — Father Jean Pezant to Father Jérôme-Basile Grange, Whanganui

Translated by Fr Brian Quin SM, March 2006

APM Z 208 21 December 1852

Petre (Whanganui) 21 December 1 852, the feast of glorious St Thomas, Apostle

To Reverend Father Grange

Father, and very dear confrere

[1]

At last I received, last Wednesday, the octave day of the Immaculate Conception, the blessed box which was sent to me by my parents and which I had been told about last February; and with it, your friendly letter. I am answering it immediately, and you are the first person I am writing to. A ship is leaving here today for Sydney, and I do not have the time to write either to my family or to anyone else but a good young woman from Romagnat to whom I think I am obliged to write urgently, to console her. Soon I will write to my brother and my sisters and to Messrs Riberolles and Riberolles: however, I hope they are not too much surprised if they don't receive my letters until two or even three months after you. Two- or three-days’ difference in the dates of two letters can account for a considerable difference in time between their arrival in Europe, because of the lack of ships, the difference in ships' rate of travel, differences in weather encountered during the voyage etc. etc.

[2]

I begin, very dear confrere, by imploring you to excuse me if I did not answer your first letter. It gave me the greatest pleasure, but it had taken so long to get here that I could no longer remember where you were, and then I was made responsible for a great undertaking in relation to our means, the building of a beautiful chapel, and it gave me, as usually is the case in matters of this sort, continual concerns, without speaking of spiritual things - which, happily, greatly occupied me. For your consolation, I will tell you that my successor went on with it and finished it, and I am certain that it is the finest of the mission stations among the natives. I had left him 25 thousand feet of timber already sawn, and it was this sawing which took up so much of my time because it often demanded task forces of 40, 50, 60 and 100 natives to drag big trees to the sawmills, and it was your servant who organised these newly-baptised Christians, who paid the workers in tobacco and flour to encourage them, who supervised the movement of the logs, shared the work with them, chopped and sawed to cut up the blocks, fit fabricando faber , dug around the trees before felling them, etc., to set the pace for the natives. My successor has had more sawing done since my departure, so that in that building there is now almost 40 thousand feet of timber. It was two French seamen who did the sawing; the natives paid, and, for a little, the mission. Their money comes from the sale of their flour, of which they have had great amounts for about seven years, and as a result, a water mill. Building this cost, in all, 400 pounds sterling (at least ten thousand francs). My successor erected it according to the plans I left him, I had undertaken it; he was its builder and contractor and I was the architect. It is on a little hill, and can be seen from an immense area. (It has a little but very high belfry and soon will have bells): it is the glory of Catholicism, the joy of my good newly-baptised, and the rage of heresy. The Protestant natives have sometimes talked about setting it on fire. They are often very fanatical. I hope that this church, in respect of the small part I have had in building it, will shorten my time in purgatory.

[3]

As for what you tell me about your perplexity over your vocation, I will tell you only: not so much thinking over whether you must go. Begin by resolving it practically by going. When you are far away, then you can think it over. Generously snatch yourself away from embraces, from tears; or, rather, take your heart in both hands, and escape all that. Play a trick on them — leave without drum, fife or trumpet. You will suffer, but then, far away, you will have won your case. What are you doing there, a priest without an appointment? And the foreign missions are holding out their hands to you. The poor souls are calling you! So leave, while you are young — it is the time. Be brave! The sea is hard, but once having got to the mission field, the natural and human affections appear only from a distance. You devote yourself to ministry, you make Christians, you baptise, catechise, then you hear confessions, give Communion — there is a real parish! Oh! Wonderful years 1845, 46, 47, 48 and 49 — accompanied by two or three good catechists, and sometimes a big group of good natives, I would to visiting, through forests, rivers, swamps and mountains. These poor people, simple and naive, who waited for me with impatience, would receive me with cordiality and would farewell me by repeating over and over again their goodbyes. Where I would catechise, baptise, confess, give Communion! Oh, come to the missions therefore! Come as soon as possible! Come while you are young! Don't lose a precious moment! Make up your mind, come along, leave! Leave! But do not come with the mistaken ideas we brought from France.

[4]

We believed the pagans wanted us, that they were burning with ardour to embrace the faith, that they would pamper and spoil their missionaries with kindnesses, respect and attention. Crazy we were! And would the saying Ignoti nulla cupido therefore cease to be, as everywhere, an expression of nature? No, be well aware, every one of you, in Europe; at the start, they did not want us; there were brutalised by vice and paganism, or perverted by heresy. They will play all sorts of tricks on you, will rob you, will insult you, will speak badly of you, will drive you away sometimes, will harass you continually by demands for tobacco, pipes, clothing, food etc etc, and will not care to lift a bucket of earth for nothing, while you devote yourself entirely to their needs. Your ministry will, for a greater or shorter time, remain unproductive: they will refuse to let you baptise their children and themselves, will ask you for payments for allowing you to do it, for a price for taking part in your services etc. etc etc. You will be tempted to discouragement, to leave for Europe to go to other islands, but be patient. Do not be surprised. The pagans are debased beings, at least these Polynesians; they are, as well, real children, who have never seen anything; who, as a result, have a wrong idea of our ministry, of us, of our religion etc. Only little by little do you work yourself into their favour, win them over, particularly by the practice of charity to the sick, for bodily conditions etc.

[5]

Then they come, and come, they let themselves be instructed, be baptised. They go to confessions and Communion, at first, a bit mechanically; take careful note; like children, really without being truly aware of what they are doing, although they know everything they have to know. Little by little they do better, and then they become other people: respectful, honest, just, civilised; they become outwardly cleaner, more gentle, honest, even pious, their hearts develop and become sensitive, they bond themselves to us. Look at a child who has not been educated: is he respectful, grateful, affectionate, sensitive? No, it is education, and especially religious education, which makes him into a man. It is the same with savages. So have right ideas about the missions, and be good to these poor people. Kindness wins hearts — everywhere the human heart is everywhere the same. Kindness! Kindness! Charity and prayer... Patience as well. A lot of these things are needed at the beginning: they are very unpleasant!!

[6]

About languages, the difficulty of learning them, don't get bound up with this consideration, it is really nothing. English, even unlearnable English, I have learnt it, but without knowing how. I do not speak it too badly now, and if, since I have been in New Zealand, I had always lived among the English, I think I would speak it very well. And even more so the savage languages, easy to pronounce.

[7]

To get some small amounts of money, you have to argue almost to the point of having a fight [with them]. I have done what I could to bring about a change in their way of acting, and I got nowhere. I am in despair. Our Bishop has recently got from Rome letters totally in his favour, because he had written as he had wished. If, instead of scribbling away to Rome against his clergy, he had granted the just requests of his priests, he would have done better, everyone would have been happy, and peace would have been complete. But no: no condescension. He has already cut himself off from the Society, which has just made that known to him and soon he will be abandoned by the Society's priests he already has. Several have written to him to tell him, quorum ego [of whom I am one]. I was leaving on this ship, unfortunately there was no room, because in waiting for the most recent replies from Bishop Viard I asked for a place on board too late. But I hope to leave in two months, on another of its voyages.

[8]

I will go to New Caledonia, to Bishop Douarre, who is quite good-natured towards his priests — he always gives them more than what is necessary. It is certain. I could also go to Bishop Bataillon who has made appointments in a fatherly way with the priests of the Society. So go rather there or there: the Centre would be too hot for me — I would be afraid of a drastic change at my age. But New Caledonia attracts me strongly: a healthy country with a temperate climate like that here, few or no Protestants, new and fairly numerous people. We could perhaps see each other there.

[9]

Bring plenty of rosaries. The New Zealanders are besotted with the Rosary. My neophytes in the Waikato gathered at the station every evening from all directions to say it together they never tired of it. I had great days there. I will remember my life the days of the Assumption and especially of Christmas 1848, and Easter 1850, the feasts of Corpus Christi and the Assumption 1849, and many others. It was heart-breaking on both sides when, two and a half years ago, I had to separate myself from my dear neophytes in the Waikato. They are still doing well (they numbered about 1040). They have written to me several times since

[10]

I have not, alas, found any Waikato in the south, and, in fact, I have found disunity. Bishop Viard could later on have very much to repent of.

[11]

Two of Bishop Pompallier's priests have sullied our former mission stations. One left after having been the first to solicit and seduce a Maori girl, and the other left, this year, from Tauranga, dressed as a seaman, renouncing his priesthood, after 15 months of sacrilegious sensual delight. The good God had always preserved the priests of the Society from these calamities. Ora et orate pro me [Pray, and have others pray for me].

[12]

My deep respects to Mr Desjardins, superior of the major seminary and all my confreres from Auvergne.

[13]

I am going to finish with an item which I want you to deep secret, except for Father Colin, the Superior General, and those whom he has kept informed about our affairs. Come quickly to the missions, but, my well-beloved confrere and dear fellow countryman, (this is the advice of a friend and a close friend) in the name of God and of your eternal salvation, don't come to New Zealand: It is a place of dissension. We are in a state of division, not among ourselves, but with our Bishop — up to the neck — we see no way out. I don't think we are wrong; we are, I believe, all well-disposed, be it said without wanting to boast. But, what is amazing is that the Bishops do not want to act in agreement with their priests they see their dignity as offended if they agree to the advice and desires of their priests: they put all their trust in lay people with whom they decide all the spending, while they completely set all their clergy at a distance. They give us hardly what we need; no money for doing good, for setting up schools, building churches: they do not publish any good books in the vernacular for the natives, which are, nonetheless, I believe the most powerful means of winning these Oceanian peoples, who are amenable by reason of their childlikeness and their intelligence, who are crazy about books etc., with the result that all the funds are spent, no one knows how, without our having enough of a share to bring about good effects. So, God would hardly have blessed them if they had listened to us from the beginning; the Protestant missionaries would certainly have packed their bags or at least resigned themselves to consuming their large incomes at home, without having many followers; on the contrary, on account of their [the Bishops, evidently - translator's note] not having listened to their priests, nothing has been able to be done: there are only five thousand Catholics in all, after many enormous sums of money have been spent. Here, in the south, we are doing almost nothing among the natives, for lack of money, and little among the whites.

[In margin]

Totus tuus et vester in Domino [I am all yours in the Lord].

J B Pézant pr[iest] SM

Miss[ionary] apost[olic]

[14]

I have no more space nor time. My compliments to your parents and mine. My respects to Messrs Biberolles and Biberolles and to the parish priest and to everyone.

[15] [In margin]

I act as chaplain to the British Catholic troops of this little fortress. I am getting bored with them. I long for my natives and wish to soon be in New Caledonia to evanglise the wild savages.

[16] [In margin]

Simply put your letters for Whanganui in the post in the place where you are living. They will certainly arrive.

[17] [In margin]

I still have poor stomach and good legs: I would climb the Puy de Giroux and to Gorgovia faster than you; I have not developed any rheumatism or pain. I have not forgotten the patois of Chanonat.

[18] [In margin]

Please, I entreat you, send this letter to Father Superior General. May people pray a lot for us — we are very much to be pitied here with Bishop Viard: it is a real affliction.