Girard0264

1 July 1843 - Fr Jérôme Grange Fr Nicoud, Parish Priest of Saint Clair (Isère), Tonga

Summary

The locals can recall Cook’s visit 70 years earlier. Gives some geographic account of Tongatapu (the main island) – its flatness impressive. Before describing the mission he describes the country and its produce, in much the same way as Chevron had recently done (doc 261). Very enthusiastic about the pineapple. Like Chevron, finds them dirty in their habits. But they are courteous and willing to share what they have. Customs much like those of Wallis.

Vices – as described by Chevron. They are not idolatrous – worship spirits only. Maui the greatest god – fished up Tonga from the sea. Grange describes some of their beliefs. But says these are losing their attraction for the young people. Says the Tongans have more respect and concern for the sick than the Maori.

Very impressed with the care of the dead.

Justice in a strict sense does not exist. All depends on the whim of the chiefs/king.

The custom of expected sharing of food seems good at first, but in fact leads to laziness – no-one thinks of providing for himself his own needs.

Very impressed with houses – well suited to the climate. Canoes also admirable – use of cordage instead of nails.

Recent wars of religion have led to huge forts being built – good description. Then follows a description of the most recent attempt of a Protestant tribe to capture Pea, with help from an English vessel. The Protestants and their English allies were defeated and three cannons captured.

Their amusements described. Singing is very impressive.

The mission. The island has been dominated by the Protestants for 20 years – converted mainly in the style of Mahomet – by force of arms. The harshness of the punitive regime that existed – somewhat ameliorated since arrival of Catholics. A little, but steady, progress in conversion of the pagan people of Pea is being made. Then follow several stories showing the understanding some catechumens have of the Catholic faith. Notes that women are slower to convert than men – believes reason is that women have low status in society.

The first church has been built – described – Father Grange very pleased with it.

The writer ends with an appeal for more priests to answer the call of the missions.

Translation by Merv Duffy, February 2025.

Text of the Letter

Vicariate Apostolic of Central Oceania

Tonga Tabu, July 1, 1843

Monsieur and dear Curé,

[1]

I am stealing a few moments from my numerous duties to converse with you for a short while. The immense distance that separates us only serves to bind me more closely to you and your dear parish and to make your memory even more precious to me.

[2]

It seems certain that the Tonga archipelago, from where I have the honour of writing to you, was first sighted 200 years ago by the Dutchman Tasman, though he did not land here. It was less than 70 years ago that our islanders first saw a ship, which greatly astonished them. They mistook it for a floating island and eventually named it planche du ciel (heaven’s plank), papa langui , a name they now use indiscriminately for anything foreign. This ship was commanded by Captain Cook.

[3]

The island of Tonga Tabu is located at 178° west longitude and the 21st parallel south, and is therefore not far from your antipodes, as you can see. It is an entirely flat island, with neither streams nor springing sources. The highest elevation does not exceed thirty feet above sea level. We might fear being submerged at any moment if we did not know that He who created the sea has said: You shall come this far, and here your proud waves shall break against this grain of sand. The island’s greatest length is eight leagues, and it does not exceed four leagues in width. It is surrounded by about forty islets, all higher in elevation than itself, which seem to be dancing in the middle of the ocean. The land, nearly devoid of stones, is extremely fertile. The island is well wooded, although it has few large trees. However, there are some of prodigious size—I measured one that had a circumference of 56 feet.

[4]

The population of Tonga-Tabu is about 15,000 souls; add the same number for the seven other inhabited islands, and you will have a total of 30,000 souls for the entire archipelago, and not 200,000 as I have read in almost all geography books. This is the flock that my confrère and I must evangelize. Before speaking to you about our work, I will first give you some knowledge of the land we inhabit and the people entrusted to us.

[5]

The local food consists of bananas, yams, and breadfruit; coconut and kava make up the usual beverages. The banana tree grows annually and very quickly; it produces a single cluster of fruit with up to 150 bananas, each as large as the finest figs of France. As soon as the fruit ripens, the tree dies, but it is soon replaced by a new one sprouting from its base. Its leaves, six feet long and three feet wide, serve the natives as plates and table covers. The banana has a good taste but is not very nourishing. The yam, which is the main food here, is a large root weighing between 10 and 50 pounds, with a taste somewhat similar to our potatoes. The breadfruit tree, which resembles the large walnut trees of France, bears fruit weighing four to five pounds, and when baked in an oven, it has an excellent flavour.

The coconut tree, providentially placed in low-lying islands that lack fresh water, continuously bears fruit containing three to four glasses of very pleasant-tasting water, and its flesh is not to be disregarded when fully ripened. Its kernel produces an abundant oil that the natives use for cooking and anointing their bodies. It would take too long to enumerate all the advantages of the coconut tree; suffice it to say that it could provide food, clothing, and shelter for the natives.

Kava is a plant that, in appearance, somewhat resembles the hydrangea, though much larger. The natives chew its root, then dilute it in a dish with water, which they then drink with delight. Europeans share little of their enthusiasm for this so-called divine liquor, either because of its excessively strong taste or because of the method of its preparation. However, a missionary cannot abstain from it without harming the trust necessary for his work. I have consumed it up to ten times a day.

[6]

Tonga-Tabu has a few other fruits: oranges and lemons. The orange and lemon trees here grow as large as walnut trees in France, though they are far from matching yours in the quality of their fruit. Cotton and sugarcane grow very well. But the fruit that seems to me to deserve an honourable mention—and which the natives, however, make little use of—is the pineapple. It resembles a large strawberry, sprouting from a thorny stem, weighing up to three pounds, and surpassing, in both quality and size, the strawberries of France. It is the only perfectly good fruit I have eaten on these islands.

I brought grapevines and fig trees, which, based on my knowledge of agriculture, should thrive well. In just 11 months, the grapevines have produced shoots up to 30 feet long. The fig trees have already borne excellent figs twice, and the third harvest is beginning to appear. Among the different shrubs I have also brought, only the rose, balsam, and geranium have succeeded.

[7]

We have some domestic animals: dogs, cats, pigs, chickens, ducks, turkeys, and pigeons. I brought sheep from Sydney, and they are thriving. Tonga has many rats and lizards, but no venomous animals.

[8]

The natives of the Tongan archipelago do not differ much from Europeans in height, form, and colour. They are somewhat tanned, which can be attributed to the very high temperatures of the climate. It is quite difficult to maintain a fresh complexion when facing 30 degrees of heat (Réaumur scale) for four to five months of the year, when the sun is near our zenith. Here, as in France, I find myself among the tallest people, but there are fewer short men here. Although they do not have the great stature I have seen attributed to them in travel accounts, they also do not possess the vigour that people often claim they have. Few of them are without existing or healed wounds, and more than half die of tuberculosis. Beyond their poor diet, many other factors contribute to this state of weakness, not to mention their excesses in sin.

[9]

If the travellers who have so highly praised their cleanliness had been obliged to live with them for just fifteen days, I think they would have changed their opinion. No doubt they only saw them during festivals. Oh! Then, they exhibit a studied cleanliness; they adorn themselves as best as their poverty allows, making the most of whatever labour and nature provide. But outside of those occasions, their uncleanliness is repulsive. That said, they can be described as beautiful, well-formed, always cheerful, and intelligent. Uneducated Frenchmen are less polite and, above all, less hospitable than they are. For this reason, I believe they are far from deserving the name of "savages" that is often given to them.

When they meet, they exchange friendly greetings, saying tsi oto ofa (my friendship). If they are carrying anything they can offer, such as kava or fruit, it would be considered a great rudeness not to share it. If they have nothing, they make many apologies.

Inferiors sit on the ground when speaking to their superiors. If you visit a house, you are greeted with tsi oto ofa , followed by thanks for your visit and expressions of joy about your health. Then, as they present you with kava, they apologize for not having anything better to offer. If you do not stay long enough for them to prepare food for you, they are filled with regret for not having foreseen your arrival. Even when they do offer food, they always apologize for not having anything worthy of you. In formal visits, along with the obligatory kava, they exchange gifts; they never refuse anything that is asked of them.

In our personal interactions with them, they generally show us the same courtesy. Both men and women wear their hair short, and children of both sexes, up to the age of twelve, have a tonsure shaved with a razor or a shark's tooth. This tonsure forms a triangle, with its base on the forehead and its point at the lower part of the back of the head, leaving a tuft of curly hair on each side, which gives them a very charming appearance. They are born as white as Europeans, and it is only gradually that their skin darkens.

Adult men are tattooed from the knees to the middle of the abdomen; the tattooing marks the occasion of a festival for them. They have little facial hair and shave frequently. Women wear the same clothing as men, consisting of tapas—fabrics made from tree bark—which cover them from the waist to the knees. At the very least, they wear a belt of leaves when working. Children generally go naked until the age of seven or eight, but those whose parents adhere to religion dress like adults. Otherwise, customs here are nearly the same as in Wallis, and you have read their description in the Annals of the Propagation of the Faith.

[10]

It would be difficult to say which vice is most dominant here; pride, immorality, and laziness go hand in hand. In their interactions with white people, they are not very respectful; they display a kind of disdain for them. I am almost inclined to believe that this contempt is genuine and that the particular signs of friendship they sometimes show are usually self-interested. No people on earth, they believe, are worthy of sitting alongside a Tongan kanak. He alone possesses knowledge. Just as in ancient times, those who were neither Greek nor Roman were considered barbarians, so in the minds of our islanders, anyone who is not from the "sacred island" (Tonga-tabou , as its name means) is ignorant and a slave. If the King of France were to come here, they would certainly show him great respect, but less than they would show to their own king and principal chiefs. Nevertheless, even the lowest slave of Tonga would consider himself of nobler origin than the King of France.

As for morality, let us not speak of it; here, vice holds no secrets, not even from children. However, it must be said that they respect us and restrain themselves greatly in our presence. Laziness seems to be their favoured vice. The natives do only the work that is absolutely necessary. Outside of festivals, they eat very little, to the point that what feeds one man in France would be more than enough for ten here. They suffer, but for them, it is a thousand times better to endure hunger than to bear the burden of work. As a result, we ourselves are often forced to endure many involuntary fasts.

[11]

The Tongans are not idolaters; they worship only spirits and, like the pagans of the ancient world, they tell countless absurd tales about them. The greatest of their gods is Maui , who, long ago—since time immemorial—fished Tonga out of the ocean. They claim that the very hook he used to pull the island from the depths of the sea is still preserved. However, those who guard it are careful to say that whoever lays eyes on it will be struck dead. Only the king, beloved of Maui, is permitted to guard and see it.

[12]

When we question them about the origins of their deities, they stammer a few words and then finally admit: "We do not know; we do as our fathers did." It is certain, however, that their deities are malevolent spirits whom they greatly fear but do not love. These gods invisibly inhabit the great chiefs and old women.

Our islanders are also slaves to superstition; touching a stick placed at the entrance of a banana or sugarcane plantation is a crime that the gods punish with death. No one, unless he is a great chief or a friend of the gods, may eat a turtle or any other highly esteemed food in the land. However, these beliefs are fading, and the young people, in particular, scorn them. Only the elders resist. "The gods the missionaries preach to us are certainly good," they say, "but ours are good too, for they make the yams, coconuts, and especially the kava grow. We must stand firm; at least half of the island must remain faithful to our ancient gods; otherwise, they will be angered by our abandonment and will punish us."

"I watch with sorrow," said the eldest man on the island, "as the youth allow themselves to be swept away by all these new ideas."

[13]

The inhabitants of Tonga take great pride in having many children, and they raise them with the utmost care until they reach the age of four or five. At that point, however, they abandon them, which is why children have no respect for their parents. Unlike the New Zealanders, who expose their sick to the open air and leave them to perish, our islanders resort to every imaginable means to ensure their recovery. The sick person is well housed, their food is carefully prepared, and vows and prayers are offered for their health. If a great chief falls ill, fingers are cut off from several people—sometimes even human sacrifices are made—to appease the wrath of the malevolent god who is believed to be devouring the sick while they are still alive.

[14]

But nothing compares to the care they take in burying their dead. As soon as a person breathes their last, all the neighbours are informed, and immediately, all the women come to weep around the body. (Here, men never cry.) The deceased is kept in this state for one or two days, during which time a tomb is built near the home of their relatives. The burial house is beautiful, constructed on an elevated site, and surrounded by a well-crafted bamboo fence. The enclosed area is planted with all sorts of fragrant shrubs, especially everlastings. The house is finally covered with a skilfully crafted roof.

For the tombs of kings or great chiefs, enormous stones are brought from distant islands to crown the burial site. One such stone is 24 feet long, 8 feet wide, and at least 18 inches thick. One of the tombs was constructed by the people of Wallis, who transported massive stone blocks in immense canoes. This feat is astonishing for these peoples.

But what truly evokes sorrow for their misfortune is the sight of the mourners who, as an expression of their grief, cut off their fingers, slit their noses, ears, and cheeks. Yet all these tears are nothing more than empty and painful rituals in which the heart takes no part. And these women feel great joy once they are freed from such torment.

[15]

Our islanders have no system of justice. The bizarre will of a tyrant—who only thinks of enforcing order when disorder affects him personally—is their sole and sovereign law. I have seen men kill others without anyone being the least concerned about avenging the crime. With such arbitrary customs, I am amazed that these people have not managed to destroy themselves. There is no tyrant more feared than the king of the land. When he gives a command, everyone rushes to obey. If he wishes to have one of his subjects put to death, he has only to send for him. Be assured that the one against whom this summons is issued will not attempt to flee, even if he knows the reason for his call.

When the king rises, there is a competition to see who will have the honour of kissing his feet. If he speaks, everyone listens with respectful attention; and even if he were to utter the most absurd nonsense, everyone responds: It is the truth, boe . This system of slavery will be a significant obstacle to the conversion of these people, because the king and the great chiefs have strong reasons for remaining in infidelity. Yet the subjects lack the boldness to take the initiative. Nevertheless, we remain hopeful, for God holds in His hands the hearts of both peoples and kings.

[16]

Here, cooking is always communal. If someone prepares a dish, the entire neighbourhood is informed, and it is considered proper etiquette for the cook himself not to taste it. If someone gifts you a pig or another animal, they give it to you, they kill it for you, and they eat it for you—the only honour that remains for you is to have provided a feast for your neighbours.

I mentioned earlier that politeness requires offering any fruit one carries to whoever is met on the road or even seen from afar. This spirit of hospitality and communal sharing, which may seem admirable at first glance, is far from beneficial. What is the result? Each person relies on his neighbour, and no one thinks of providing for his own needs. Thus, our kanacks live in a state of harmful idleness and suffer from hunger in an island so fertile that a single day's labour per week would be enough for a father to provide abundance for himself and all his children.

[17]

Our islanders build with a certain elegance; their houses are elliptical in shape, well-covered, and open to all the winds, which is an advantage in intense heat. They resemble an umbrella in form. The houses are fairly tall and generally quite clean on the outside. I do not believe that even a skilled European carpenter, with only a simple axe like theirs, could work with as much dexterity and, I would even say, elegance when crafting the framework and columns that support their huts.

They particularly excel in their ability to cover the wooden structures with woven braids, forming intricate, multicoloured patterns of astonishing regularity. These braids are a type of flat cord, which they use to bind the wooden elements together, serving in place of nails. Their canoes are of such beauty that they astonish even Europeans. I have seen some as long as 150 feet, adorned with brilliant shells and the feathers of the most beautiful birds of the land. They also know very well how to craft sails and ropes.

Mounted on these small vessels, our islanders sometimes travel up to 300 leagues, using no other compass than the stars.

[18]

In recent years, religious wars have divided and armed the various tribes of Tonga against one another. The followers of Protestant ministers sought to spread their faith by force among their rebellious countrymen, whom they called "the party of the devil." Both factions built forts to protect themselves from surprise attacks, living within them during wartime and in surrounding villages during peace.

Tonga has four main forts. Bea, where we reside, is the most well-fortified and is considered almost impregnable. It is surrounded by ramparts and embankments ranging from 4 to 8 feet in height, topped with a beautifully woven double-layered reed hedge. This stronghold is further protected by a moat, between 15 and sometimes 30 feet wide, always filled with water. In certain places, small, sharp wooden stakes made of ironwood are planted just beneath the water’s surface, spaced closely enough to prevent a person from stepping between them.

The gates are ingeniously designed. After an inner gate, secured by a strong barricade, comes a sort of corridor well-defended on both sides by embankments and the moat. At its far end is a circular space about 30 feet in diameter, more or less, also protected. This is where the outer gates are located. The corridor and this small round plaza are entirely outside the ramparts and serve to defend the approach to the fort. Bea has at least 15 such gates.

All these ramparts are fitted with loopholes made from hollowed-out coconut trunks. Our fort covers nearly a kilometre in length, and there are two others even larger. Some Europeans have assured us that, during times of war, this fort has sheltered up to 5,000 people. I believe that number to be exaggerated, but it could certainly accommodate 2,000 to 3,000 inhabitants.

It is divided into sections by finely crafted reed hedges. These different sections, containing houses, form streets that intersect in all directions, giving the fort the appearance of a small town.

[19]

Bea endured a siege three years ago. For six years already, a tribe converted to Protestantism had been trying, though always unsuccessfully, to make the "infidel" tribe, among whom we reside, embrace their beliefs. It was finally decided that this stubborn tribe would either convert or pay for its infidelity with death. The English minister who led this affair managed to enlist a commodore of his nation, whose ship was anchored offshore.

A formal siege was laid against the place, and the so-called "party of the devil" prepared itself for defence—and with success. Commodore Croker was killed, along with 11 of his men, as well as many islanders, and a great number were wounded. However, none of the "infidels" perished, and they remained in possession of three cannons.

Later, the English sought to reclaim these cannons. They requested them in an authoritative tone, though offering a reward, and added that the islanders might regret it if they refused. Then one of the chiefs, after consulting the others, addressed the commander with these words:

"You came to attack us in our own home while we were enjoying the deepest peace; we did nothing but defend ourselves, when we would have had every reason to attack. The cannons we have taken now belong to us, according to the laws of our land; we could keep them and use them against you. But to show you that we do not fear you, we return them. We do not wish to sell them; we won them at the risk of our lives, the lives of our wives, and our children—there is no price for that. Take them and leave."

[20]

A word, finally, on the games of our Kanaks. Their principal amusements are dancing, boating on the sea, and the game of tika . The latter is a type of billiards, in which flat discs are launched by hand, and they display great skill in this game.

Dancing is a passion for them, but they never exceed the bounds of modesty. Men and women do not dance together but rather take turns. The dancers wear a special costume, which is always more decent than their ordinary attire.

[21]

Although the land itself is not particularly suited to poetry, due to its monotony and limited expanse, the inhabitants of Tonga are not entirely unfamiliar with this art. They compose their own songs, which they know how to render either joyful or melancholic, depending on the occasion.

When a convoy of canoes sets sail for a distant island, a great number of people accompany them to the shore. Then, as the travellers depart upon the sea, 200 or 300 voices rise in a melancholic and harmonious chant:

"Where are you going, young and reckless bird, where are you going?

Why do you surrender yourself to the whims of the waves and the treacherous tides?

You will no longer quench your thirst in the hollow of the bamboo

Or in the thick bark of the coconut tree.

The banana tree, with its broad leaves, will no longer shield you

From the scorching sun or the cold of the night;

And if the wind begins to blow, you will no longer find shelter

Beneath your mother’s wings.

Where are you going, young and reckless bird, where are you going?"

They repeat this sweet refrain in cadence until the canoes disappear from sight. Everything among them is done in rhythm—songs, mourning, and prayer alike.

[22]

Let me now tell you a little about our new mission. The Protestants have been in possession of the island for more than 20 years. It cannot be denied that they have won over a good number of the natives. If they came to proclaim Jesus Christ to these people, at the very least, they preached in the manner of Mahomet. And if they converted anyone, it was by the sword.

I am certain that they have only a very small number of sincere followers who are truly devoted to them. I have asked several islanders why they had not abandoned their "infidelity" in all the time that the missionaries had been on their island, and I always received the same answer: "I was afraid of being beaten."

Indeed, one would hardly believe in Europe the severity with which the Protestants treat their neophytes. It is not enough that they forbid them all amusements; they also impose fasts and other mortifications. Confession and penance are made public. Forced labour follows even the slightest infraction.

It is not uncommon to see a poor native tied to a tree, beaten until he collapses under the blows—and all for having taken a banana or smoked a pipe. However, I must admit that since our arrival on this island, these gentlemen have realized that it is in their interest to return to a milder regime, and I acknowledge that there has been a great improvement.

[23]

It has not even been a year since Father Chevron established himself in Tongatapu. Two days after his arrival, he was ordered to leave. You can easily understand the motives behind this order. Three months later, when I arrived here, we feared for a moment that there would be a general uprising, and we were under no illusions about the reasons.

But we remained patient, and little by little, calm was restored. Now, we are beginning to gather a small flock. Already, more than 200 natives attend prayer and our instructions, morning and evening. It is likely that if we had arrived first, it would have been easy to win them all over.

However, when they compare our doctrine with that of the Protestants—whom most of them know, even without having embraced their beliefs—they do not know what to say or what to believe. You understand that they are not very strong logicians and are not very capable of distinguishing truth from error.

Furthermore, so many foreigners have already deceived them that they are very inclined to believe that all of them are deceivers. And in this, many of them make little distinction between a sailor and a missionary, or between a Catholic missionary and a Protestant minister. "They are foreigners—that is enough."

"They come," they say, "to argue with each other, to eat the best of what we have, to mock us, and in the end, they will take our lands."

Despite all this, our courage is not shaken. We rely on the grace of the One who is Master of hearts and on the protection of the Blessed Virgin, who alone has crushed all heresies throughout the world. Sooner or later, we will triumph.

[24]

Moreover, our islanders are intelligent, and some of them reason quite well. I will give you some examples.

[25]

One of our most fervent catechumens was one day disputing with one of his Protestant compatriots. The latter argued for the truth of his sect by saying that it had been brought to their island first. Our catechumen replied:

"One should not pay so much attention to the time when a religion was first preached in a country; rather, one must carefully examine whether the missionaries who preached it were sent by the true Master. Indeed," he added, "fruit thieves always arrive before the rightful owner."

The Protestant native, believing he had found an irrefutable argument, hastened to respond with a tone of self-assurance:

"Our religion is certainly the best, for when the bishop (epikopo) came here to leave Seveto (Father Chevron), our minister refused to have any dealings with him, because it is written that one must not communicate with the wicked. He hid himself and made us all hide as well."

"Very well, very well," replied our catechumen, "this is proof that our Church alone is good." Then, continuing his comparison, he added:

"Is it not true that a thief hides when he sees the true master coming? He also hides the stolen goods because he fears being punished and having his loot taken away. That is exactly what your minister did, because he stole the religion of the epikopo and meddled in teaching without having been sent by the true Master."

[26]

Another catechumen confounded an English missionary who was mocking a rosary he wore around his neck in front of the natives. I admired in his response the grace of the Holy Spirit, for I do not think he would have been naturally capable of making such a fitting reply.

Mockingly, the missionary asked him about the usefulness of that "diabolical necklace" he was wearing. The catechumen went to sit in the middle of the circle in the missionary's presence and said:

"You want to know what our Losalio (rosary) means? I will tell you. The rosary is only used to keep track of a certain number of prayers and the order in which we are accustomed to saying them. Here are the prayers we recite."

Then, he began to recite: "I believe in God..."

"First of all, you see that this prayer is not diabolical in any way; on the contrary, I say: 'I believe in God.' I do not believe, as you falsely accuse me, in this object or in that one, but I believe directly in God, the Almighty Father, and in Jesus Christ, His only Son..."

He was about to continue when the missionary stood up and went back to his house. The catechumen burst out laughing, and even the Protestant natives applauded. However, this catechumen had received no formal instruction other than a few conversations with a catechist from Wallis who had come here with Father Chevron.

[27]

Another time, the king of a neighbouring Protestant island, having come to Tongatapu, wanted to force one of his subjects—who was our catechumen—to return to his parents, but in reality, it was to make him embrace Protestantism. Then, one of our most fervent disciples spoke before a small assembly:

"Do you not see," he said, "that it is to make you turn to the Protestant religion that King George wants to take you with him? Besides, who are our best parents—those who gave us life, or those who teach us how to live well? Do we not say every day that our Father is in heaven, that common Father whom the old Seveto and Helenimo (Jérôme) made us know? And does not Jesus Christ say that sometimes, for love of Him, one must leave parents, friends, and even life itself?

How could we doubt it?" he added with great fervour, turning toward us. *"Did not the old Seveto and Helenimo come to us from so far away? They left their country, their parents, and their friends—who surely loved them very much. They shed many tears at their departure; I am sure they accompanied them all the way to the shore, and even after the ship had disappeared, they were still weeping.

They came for the love of Jesus Christ and for us. They came to announce happiness to us, and now that we know it, could we abandon it? Never! Even if George came with his entire island to kill you, we should always remain steadfast..."*

But I cannot fully convey the energy of his words or the fire of his expression. Among the Kanaks, everything speaks at once—feet, hands, eyes; the face is no less expressive than the tongue.

[28]

I will share with you an incident that is simpler but that you will not love any less.

In a village four leagues from our residence, there was a man suffering from a serious illness who stubbornly refused baptism. We had nearly despaired of winning him over. Fortunately, in the same village, there was one of our young catechumens who was very intelligent.

A few days later, we returned to that place. As we arrived, we saw this young girl running toward us, exclaiming, "It is going well, it is going well!"

"A little child of this man, who refuses to leave the devil, fell very ill. I baptized him without telling anyone. I did exactly as you had taught me. He died immediately afterward. He has gone to paradise, and already he has prayed for his father. Now, the father keeps asking to be baptized. I have taught him everything I know; he knows as much as I do. He is only waiting for you to receive baptism."

Indeed, we found him well-disposed and sufficiently instructed. We administered the sacrament to him, and two days later, he surrendered his soul to God.

The young girl then asked me again, "But will I have gained nothing for having baptized that child?"

"You have gained much," I told her, "for if that child obtained such a great grace for his father, who had only given him a miserable life, what will he not obtain for you, who have given him eternal life?"

"Oh! Good, all the better," she said. "I am very happy."

[29]

It seems to me that we have gained a lot in recent days. Not long ago, when we went to a certain tribe, we were received with whistles, and no one was willing to offer us hospitality or food. We had walked for half the day in 30-degree heat; we were very tired. The only shelter we had was an abandoned hut that we found by the seaside.

But we were consoled by the thought that, long ago, Mary and Joseph suffered an even more humiliating refusal at Bethlehem.

Today, in that very same tribe, we are welcomed with friendship, and we now count six catechumens among them. In another large, entirely Protestant tribe, we were greeted with stones the first time we visited. Today, the great chief himself, although he remains Protestant, has ordered his people to respect us. In fact, he sets the example by receiving us honourably in his own home.

When rumours of war arose between his tribe and ours, he agreed—or rather, he proposed—that they submit the matter to the two elders of the "religion of the Pope." Blessed be God! We see, from time to time, both infidels and even some heretics coming to us.

[30]

We have baptized 24 people in danger of death, and on the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, we administered solemn baptism to 30 people. I have given several neophytes the names of my friends and benefactors, and they bring back many sweet memories.

Among these neophytes, there were nine fathers of families and only three women. The little children always follow their father.

Oh! Monsieur le Curé, how touching it is to see a father of a family—once given over to a thousand crimes and the most foolish superstitions—now coming with two or three children whom he leads by the hand, seeking the grace of holy baptism! How moving it is to hear these little children, in their simple and innocent language, say: "I want to be religious with my father—oku holi lotu!"

It is also deeply touching to see a father sitting in his hut, surrounded by his small children, reciting his prayers, singing our hymns, saying the rosary—to which the little ones respond, even though they can barely stammer, for here, children as young as three or four already know all of this.

Meanwhile, the mother, lying carelessly on a mat, shows only indifference, and even contempt, for her children and for religion.

[31]

Indeed, it is worth noting that here, as in all infidel lands, women are always more difficult to convert than men. They never take the initiative, and when they do surrender, it is only long after the husband's profession of faith.

In Europe, I believe I have observed the exact opposite; women there are more devoted to religion than men. The reason for this, I think, is that here, as in any land that has not been enlightened and civilized by the Gospel, women are nothing more than vile slaves.

Slavery degrades, and to embrace the truth and combat one’s passions, courage, nobility, and greatness of soul are required. Women here are so despised, and in fact so contemptible in their conduct, that they are regarded as beings entirely different from men.

Oh! If the women of Europe—those of France, so steadfastly pious and so respected everywhere—could witness the state of degradation and abasement in which their Oceanian sisters are plunged, they would be even more devoted to the religion that has freed them from such slavery.

Perhaps they would better understand that, while piety is a need of the heart for them, it is also a strict duty! Let us hope that one day, when the women of Oceania become Catholic, they will rival their sisters of the other world in piety and virtue. Let us pray for this.

[32]

As soon as I arrived and the commotion had settled, we turned our thoughts to the construction of a church. At that time, 180 people were received into the number of catechumens.

These catechumens set to work, and about the same number of infidels wished to participate in the good endeavour. “It will serve them,” said our own, “when they have left the devil.” Alas! That moment has not yet arrived.

This church was completed in four and a half months. They put all their skill and energy into its construction, and indeed, it is more beautiful than one might imagine in Europe.

Built of wood, it is 72 feet long and 30 feet wide, including the sacristy. Twelve fine ironwood columns support a magnificent vaulted ceiling, rising 30 feet high. The walls are made of bamboo, skilfully interwoven with coconut fibre ropes. The beams forming the vault are braided with strings of different colours, representing the various birds of the land. Two hundred finely woven mats cover the floor.

In truth, I can say that many parishes in France would consider themselves blessed to have such a church. Thanks to the donations of pious souls in France, we were able to adorn it, along with our altar, in a way that brings joy.

February 12, the day of the dedication, was a great feast day. More than 600 natives attended the divine offices. We used every ornament we could procure. The natives opened their eyes wide, utterly astonished.

That evening, we held a very solemn Benediction. It was on this day that I used, for the first time, the beautiful monstrance given to me by Monsieur de XXX at my departure.

From that splendid monstrance, raised by my weak and unworthy hands, the Savior of the world visibly blessed, for the first time, this distant island and its still-infidel people.

Oh! Monsieur le Curé, what a beautiful and consoling sight it was for a poor missionary—the spectacle of a people, still half-savage, prostrating themselves before the Blessed Sacrament and already, without knowing it, fulfilling the sacred prophecy:

"At the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow—in heaven, on earth, and under the earth."

[33]

I told you that we are now respected in Tongatapu. Among several other reasons, this newfound esteem stems in part from the high regard they have formed for our knowledge.

We were the first to notice the great comet that you also saw in France, but here we saw it much more clearly due to the beauty of the nights in the torrid zone. The natives could not recall ever having seen anything like it; they cried out in wonder and questioned the Protestant missionaries, who could only give them a vague answer—they did not know what it was.

The captain of an English ship that was anchored nearby could not tell them much more, but he sent them to us, saying that the Catholic missionaries were learned men and would surely be able to explain this marvel to them.

Immediately, deputations arrived from all parts of the island. We told them that it was a comet, something so little new to us that we had already seen three others before. I then explained the nature of comets to them and, with the little knowledge of astronomy that I possessed, I predicted the length of time it would be visible on the horizon—and I was correct.

To engage them further, I showed them an illustration of a comet in an uranography book. Everyone wanted to see the comet in Helenimo’s book, and the crowd of visitors continued for 15 days.

An extraordinary earthquake, which occurred at the same time, threw the whole island into great consternation. Once again, they turned to me for an explanation of this phenomenon. I did my best to provide one, and I also showed them illustrations and explanations from a book on physical geography. They were very satisfied with these explanations, but above all, they were captivated by the fact that these phenomena were represented on paper. “One must truly know these things well,” they said, “since they have even been drawn.”

[34]

Beyond the respect we gained through this, we were also able to prevent acts of cruelty. In such circumstances, our islanders believe that their gods are angered with their great chiefs and that these phenomena are signs of divine vengeance upon them.

To appease their deities, they have the custom of cutting off the fingers of several individuals and even putting some to death. Several young men had already been designated to lose their fingers—or their lives.

I tried in vain to convince them that these were merely ordinary and purely natural events, but they refused to listen to reason. Finally, I changed my approach and found a method that worked better.

Do you want to make a people accept your point of view? Tell them precisely the opposite of what you want them to believe.

So, I went to fetch a large world map and showed them all the regions of the globe. Then I asked them to point out Tonga. Of course, they were unable to do so, as I had expected, because it is an almost imperceptible dot. I then pointed it out to them and reasoned as follows:

"The comet appears all over the earth; earthquakes occur everywhere. Most of you know that there is only one almighty God, Jehovah. Do you think that by these phenomena, God is signaling that He wants to kill all the kings of the world?"

"No," they replied, "only those of Tonga."

"Ah, yes, of course," I said to them, "this great God Jehovah, who governs all the empires of the earth, this great God who made all things out of nothing, does not care about all the other kingdoms of the world. All His attention is on Tonga, because all the other lands are nothing! All the other kings of the world, all the other peoples, are fools! It is for Tonga alone that the sun rises, that the moon and all the stars move! Because it is in Tonga alone that wise men are found—wise in religion, wise in writing books, in building great ships, in making rifles, watches, axes, knives, saws, and beautiful fabrics! Tonga is everything; the rest of the world is nothing! Oh, what a people, beloved by the heavens, are the people of Tonga!"

At this point, they interrupted me, saying:

"Helenimo, your tongue has wagged enough to make us ashamed; stop there. Forgive us, we are fools—you are wise."

From that moment on, no more was said about cutting off fingers or killing anyone.

[35]

A few pieces of wooden planks, arranged with bamboo, form a small bookshelf in my hut, where 180 carefully selected and well-bound volumes are neatly placed. Everyone wanted to see them, touch them, and count them.

"He must be very learned, since he has written so many books," they said.

Here, I am regarded as a scholar of the highest order. You see, I had to come very far to earn such a reputation!

[36]

Ah! Monsieur le Curé, how much good there is to be done here! How great is the harvest, and how few the labourers! Two missionaries and one catechist brother for 30,000 inhabitants! And then there is the Viti archipelago, which is said to have at least a million inhabitants and is so close to us.

How many stray sheep, without a shepherd, are still plunged into the shadow of death! Oh! Will no one come to the aid of this poor people?

If someone in France dies without the help of religion, it is always their own fault! But here, how many souls perish for lack of pastors!

Oh! If my friends—so learned, so pious, so zealous—those from whom I have received so many good examples, could see this dreadful spiritual famine, how many would cross the distances that separate us and hasten to the aid of their brothers in these distant islands!

The dangers of the sea are nothing for the missionary; the perils on land do not exist for those whom God sends. As for hardships, they will certainly encounter them, but they will vanish beneath the torrent of consolations that the Lord abundantly bestows upon us.

[37]

Accept …

Jérôme Grange,

Apostolic Missionary,

Priest of the Society of Mary.

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