Merv at 03:16, 2 November 2026

2026-11-02T03:16:35Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 16:16, 2 November 2026
Line 21:		Line 21:
	;[2]: In my previous letter I told you that we had set foot on the soil of New Caledonia on Saint Thomas’s Day,<ref>21 December.</ref> and that on Christmas Day I had had the happiness of celebrating Mass on the site of our future hut. The crew of the ''Bucéphale'', or rather several members of the crew, spent a month constructing our dwelling, with Brother Jean naturally directing the work and Brother Blaise having become a pit-sawyer.<ref>The brothers Jean Taragnat and Blaise Marmoiton.</ref> You have seen chicken coops; well, my Reverend Father, that will give you some idea of our dwelling. Its walls are nothing more than vines, which we shall plaster later. It has four windows and a door on the north side facing the sea, with the same arrangement on the south side facing a garden, a small part of which we have cleared with great difficulty and no little perspiration. I am taking rather long over my preliminaries; let us proceed to the details. During the month spent constructing the episcopal palace, Father Viard and I made several journeys inland to visit various chiefs. On one occasion, and this was not the most amusing part for me, we had to swim across a river, something very difficult for a person who cannot swim. Even less amusing was dressing again in the presence of a good number of men and women, all equally curious and especially disappointed to see me keep my trousers on. From then until 21 January, nothing occurred that would interest you. On the morning of that day I celebrated the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, after which the French flag was raised. In the evening, the chief or king of Dhiaote, accompanied by many of his subjects, treated us to a traditional dance to show his sorrow at seeing the ''Bucéphale'' depart. He then presented gifts to the commander. These consisted of yams and were lavish in comparison with the poverty of my diocesan people, who on this occasion touched the heart of their bishop, happy to find in his future children some feelings of gratitude.		;[2]: In my previous letter I told you that we had set foot on the soil of New Caledonia on Saint Thomas’s Day,<ref>21 December.</ref> and that on Christmas Day I had had the happiness of celebrating Mass on the site of our future hut. The crew of the ''Bucéphale'', or rather several members of the crew, spent a month constructing our dwelling, with Brother Jean naturally directing the work and Brother Blaise having become a pit-sawyer.<ref>The brothers Jean Taragnat and Blaise Marmoiton.</ref> You have seen chicken coops; well, my Reverend Father, that will give you some idea of our dwelling. Its walls are nothing more than vines, which we shall plaster later. It has four windows and a door on the north side facing the sea, with the same arrangement on the south side facing a garden, a small part of which we have cleared with great difficulty and no little perspiration. I am taking rather long over my preliminaries; let us proceed to the details. During the month spent constructing the episcopal palace, Father Viard and I made several journeys inland to visit various chiefs. On one occasion, and this was not the most amusing part for me, we had to swim across a river, something very difficult for a person who cannot swim. Even less amusing was dressing again in the presence of a good number of men and women, all equally curious and especially disappointed to see me keep my trousers on. From then until 21 January, nothing occurred that would interest you. On the morning of that day I celebrated the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, after which the French flag was raised. In the evening, the chief or king of Dhiaote, accompanied by many of his subjects, treated us to a traditional dance to show his sorrow at seeing the ''Bucéphale'' depart. He then presented gifts to the commander. These consisted of yams and were lavish in comparison with the poverty of my diocesan people, who on this occasion touched the heart of their bishop, happy to find in his future children some feelings of gratitude.

	;[3]: On the following day, the twenty-second, I took leave of the commander and officers of the ''Bucéphale'' with regret. I would have liked to conceal my emotion, but that was impossible: my tears betrayed me. Monsieur Laferrière had the kindness to add to his many attentions by accompanying me ashore himself. This touched me far more deeply than the nine cannon shots with which I was saluted. Although my heart was heavy, it was nevertheless free; I felt no regret over the step I had taken, but nature was claiming its rights. There we were, gathered for our first meal, five in number: three priests, including your servant, and two brothers. I had scarcely blessed the table when my tears began to flow in torrents. I had four children with me for whose souls and bodies I was responsible. The two brothers, it is true, had taken this step only after mature reflection; but, being less educated than we were, did they understand the full extent of their duties as well as we did, and was there nothing merely human in their decision? Might my example have influenced their decision somewhat? Would their courage fail ''[p. 2]'' when confronted with sacrifices and privations of every kind? Would I be able to provide them with the bare necessities? This thought was agonising and tore at my soul; but lifting my heart to Him who does not abandon even the insect we tread beneath our feet soon restored my calm. In the evening I went for a walk to our future country residence, accompanied by Brother Jean. I would not have left Brother Blaise behind had a slight indisposition not detained him at Balade. Our evening meal was less sorrowful than the morning meal. Our cook, Abbé Rougeyron, who has kindly undertaken this duty while the brothers attend to difficult and indispensable work, treats us wonderfully well. For as long as the ship’s biscuit lasts, which cannot be long since the worms are lending us a helping hand, we shall have soup morning and evening, a few yams sold to us by the Indigenous people, and, from time to time for several months, a little salt meat, Father François having kindly given us a barrel of it.<ref>Probably François Roulleaux, a priest since 2 July 1841 (see document 102, § 1), who was at Futuna when Douarre and his companions passed through on their way from Wallis to New Caledonia (see document 293, § 13).</ref> Our nets may also provide us with fish, and the brother may obtain a few pieces of game during his recreation time. The water we drink is rather poor. It is not that good water is unavailable, but we would have to fetch it from a stream half a league away, prudence having led us to place our dwelling near a chief’s hut. On major feast days we shall add a bottle of wine, which after the day’s exertions would be a sufficient allowance even every day, since everyone works and, divided among six, it could hardly inconvenience us. This number of six would surprise you, Father, if I did not tell you that for five or six months, at least, we have inherited a deserter from the ''Bucéphale''. We could very well have done without him, since we have few provisions and very little hope of replenishing them before six months have passed; but he was without resources and exposed among the local people. With the family thus enlarged, I reluctantly decided to release five pigs because we had nothing with which to feed them, hoping they would return home. Recapturing them, however, was no easy matter. I was all the more anxious to do so because they are the only pigs on the island. On the following Wednesday, after watching them for a long time, I managed to seize the smallest. On Thursday, while one brother worked in the garden and the other attended to other tasks, I continued the previous day’s duties without any success. On Friday we set a trap that caught two of them. A little later we caught another in the undergrowth, and on Saturday we managed to lay hands on the fourth. You would laugh, Father, at these petty concerns if you did not know our privations and our desire to increase the island’s resources.		;[3]: On the following day, the twenty-second, I took leave of the commander and officers of the ''Bucéphale'' with regret. I would have liked to conceal my emotion, but that was impossible: my tears betrayed me. Monsieur Laferrière had the kindness to add to his many attentions by accompanying me ashore himself. This touched me far more deeply than the nine cannon shots with which I was saluted. Although my heart was heavy, it was nevertheless free; I felt no regret over the step I had taken, but nature was claiming its rights. There we were, gathered for our first meal, five in number: three priests, including your servant, and two brothers. I had scarcely blessed the table when my tears began to flow in torrents. I had four children with me for whose souls and bodies I was responsible. The two brothers, it is true, had taken this step only after mature reflection; but, being less educated than we were, did they understand the full extent of their duties as well as we did, and was there nothing merely human in their decision? Might my example have influenced their decision somewhat? Would their courage fail ''[p. 2]'' when confronted with sacrifices and privations of every kind? Would I be able to provide them with the bare necessities? This thought was agonising and tore at my soul; but lifting my heart to Him who does not abandon even the insect we tread beneath our feet soon restored my calm. In the evening I went for a walk to our future country residence, accompanied by Brother Jean. I would not have left Brother Blaise behind had a slight indisposition not detained him at Balade. Our evening meal was less sorrowful than the morning meal. Our cook, Abbé Rougeyron, who has kindly undertaken this duty while the brothers attend to difficult and indispensable work, treats us wonderfully well. For as long as the ship’s biscuit lasts, which cannot be long since the worms are lending us a helping hand, we shall have soup morning and evening, a few yams sold to us by the Indigenous people, and, from time to time for several months, a little salt meat, Father François having kindly given us a barrel of it.<ref>Probably François Roulleaux, a priest since 2 July 1841 (see [[Girard0102\|document 102]], § 1), who was at Futuna when Douarre and his companions passed through on their way from Wallis to New Caledonia (see [[Girard0293\|document 293]], § 13).</ref> Our nets may also provide us with fish, and the brother may obtain a few pieces of game during his recreation time. The water we drink is rather poor. It is not that good water is unavailable, but we would have to fetch it from a stream half a league away, prudence having led us to place our dwelling near a chief’s hut. On major feast days we shall add a bottle of wine, which after the day’s exertions would be a sufficient allowance even every day, since everyone works and, divided among six, it could hardly inconvenience us. This number of six would surprise you, Father, if I did not tell you that for five or six months, at least, we have inherited a deserter from the ''Bucéphale''. We could very well have done without him, since we have few provisions and very little hope of replenishing them before six months have passed; but he was without resources and exposed among the local people. With the family thus enlarged, I reluctantly decided to release five pigs because we had nothing with which to feed them, hoping they would return home. Recapturing them, however, was no easy matter. I was all the more anxious to do so because they are the only pigs on the island. On the following Wednesday, after watching them for a long time, I managed to seize the smallest. On Thursday, while one brother worked in the garden and the other attended to other tasks, I continued the previous day’s duties without any success. On Friday we set a trap that caught two of them. A little later we caught another in the undergrowth, and on Saturday we managed to lay hands on the fourth. You would laugh, Father, at these petty concerns if you did not know our privations and our desire to increase the island’s resources.

	;[4]: On Friday, Fathers Viard and Rougeyron had left for Hienguen, about fifteen leagues from Balade, hoping to find two English ships there and arrange with their captains to obtain some livestock from Sydney. They would also have explored the country, but on the way they learned that the ships had departed. They stopped at Pouépo, where they were very well received by a chief named Goa, who instructed them to offer me an immense tract of land on his behalf if I would settle near him. I do not know where I shall settle, although I wish to occupy a central location. For the present, whether we like it or not, we must live at Balade, where the days pass rather quickly.		;[4]: On Friday, Fathers Viard and Rougeyron had left for Hienguen, about fifteen leagues from Balade, hoping to find two English ships there and arrange with their captains to obtain some livestock from Sydney. They would also have explored the country, but on the way they learned that the ships had departed. They stopped at Pouépo, where they were very well received by a chief named Goa, who instructed them to offer me an immense tract of land on his behalf if I would settle near him. I do not know where I shall settle, although I wish to occupy a central location. For the present, whether we like it or not, we must live at Balade, where the days pass rather quickly.

Merv: Created page with "==1845 — Guillaume Douarre to Jean-Claude Colin: Report on the Mission, New Caledonia== ''Based on the dispatched copy, APM ONC 418.1. '' Six sheets, sewn with brown thread, forming twenty-four pages, fifteen of which are written upon. Pages 16 to 23 were left blank, while the twenty-fourth bears only Poupinel’s annotation. As the document is not dated, the date 1845, written by Poupinel, has been adopted. A later hand proposes the date: “Beginning around 30..."

2026-11-02T03:12:13Z

Created page with "==1845 — Guillaume Douarre to Jean-Claude Colin: Report on the Mission, New Caledonia== ''Based on the dispatched copy, APM ONC 418.1. '' Six sheets, sewn with brown thread, forming twenty-four pages, fifteen of which are written upon. Pages 16 to 23 were left blank, while the twenty-fourth bears only Poupinel’s annotation. As the document is not dated, the date 1845, written by Poupinel, has been adopted. A later hand proposes the date: “Beginning around 30..."

Show changes

Girard0358 - Revision history

Merv at 03:16, 2 November 2026