THE CHURCH IN NEW ZEALAND

New Zealand Tablet, 16 September 1909, Page 1453

THE CHURCH IN NEW ZEALAND

MEMOIRS OF THE EARLY DAYS

(Contributed.) Writings of the Early Missionaries (continued). ' I started at an early hour the next morning, but the weather had changed; it had rained during the night, and the roads were in a wretched state ; in one place I had to wade up to my hips. I got rid of the mud by washing in the first stream I met. Further on, I came to a river which I must cross, and there was a man there going in the same direction. We sought a ford which should nob wet us much in crossing, but could not find one. My companion tucked up his trousers and told me to mount on his back. I would have Reclined at first, for I perceived that my hero had not contented himself with water that morning. He insisted, and I accepted at length. The river was not flooded, and only a few yards in breadth. In spite of some zigzags in the current, Aye reached the opposite bank without an accident. I thanked my companion the best way I could, and hastened on that we might nob journey together. In the evening a terrible storm burst forth, and I took shelter from the rain behind a rock. This was not the end of my troubles : hardly had the storm passed when I saw before me an immense precipitous mountain, which I had to pass by a difficult and dangerous path. I took three hours to cross it, and arrived at length at Port Levy, where I found my poor Maori dead and buried. They had waited too long to send for me ; he Avas dead before the messenger arrived. His AA-ife told me that the night before his death she spent in reciting to him the Rosary and other prayers, and that before his death he had made his act of contrition and his profession of faith. There are only tAvo Catholic families at Port Levy. After having addressed some Avords of consolation to the poor widow, I went to the other family and said to the man, " Give me a corner to lie down in and something to eat, for lam dying with fatigue an^J hunger." I took some refreshment and then slept; I nad the greatest need for both. When night came, the host roused me to say prayers for the two families who were assembled. I did so, and was edified by their piety and the manner in which they answered to the prayers. Before lying down, we again joined in saying the chaplet. The next morning A\ r e prayed together again, and so on. The man said to me, "Every day we do so; when we rise Aye say our morning; prayer, at night the evening prayer, and before going to bed we recite the chaplet. Besides, on Sunday we meet together to road the prayers for Mass, and after dinner Aye recite the Vespers." ' I have admired these poor people, and I believe they live in a manner worthy of the religion they profess. Oh ! how I would have wished to speak the Maori language better to tell them the joy I felt at seeing them thus faithful in praying to the Lord ! The two days I spent with them were days of contentment. Many times my host told me, "My love for you is great." I quitted them, promising to return soon to see them. I visited other families in different villages; I saAv also some Irish families on my way. Everywhere I was well received. Amongst the Irish there was one man who was suffering from rheumatism of the shoulder; he made me bless the shoulder which was suffering. I came back to Christohurch on the evening of New Year's Day. Do not believe that the time passed heavy with me during my journey ; it could not. I was always speaking; I said my Rosary, then I sang a canticle, so that the time flew without note. ' Amongst the Maoris, men and women, every ono smokes. You meet some old women, bent down with age, with the pipe in their hand. The man with whom I stayed would never eat until I entreated him, and the woman did not eat till after us. We had new potatoes and oysters for dinner. Those were not equal to a good dinner in France, but I had my appetite, and with that sauce all meats are delicious.' Extract from a letter of the Rev. Father (after wards Bishop) Viard to Father Noailly, of Guillotiere: — Bay of Islands, January 6, 1840. Bishop Pompallier has acquired still more rights to the esteem, and affection of the NeAV Zealanders. The entire pacification of- a tribe (already under arms, and wishing to repay injustice by violence) was obtained by the authority

and virtue of our saintly Bishop. Four Natives had looted a Frenchman's house, and had, by force, tied the OAvner's hands behind his back. All our compatriots who lived on the island regarded themselves as being personally outraged,, and gave the chief notice that if" the stolen objects were . not returned' they would take them back by force. Tile chief understood the justice of their claim, and promised he -would see to it. But these good intentions were frustrated by the evil - counsels of some, who were unfavorably disposed. A second answer came to the French, which stated* that instead of satisfying their request they, the -Natives; - possessed arms, which they in tended using against the threats of the French, Avhom they ordered to leave the district. The Bishop, forsoeing to what extremities dispute would come, resolved to prevent such a misfortune. He embarked with tAvo captains, whose vessels were in the harbor, and who had charge of the aggrieved Frenchman and the chief of the Bay of Islands. On approaching the tribe they perceived a multitude armed Avith hatchets and rifles. The companions of Bishop Pompallier advised him to escape so imminent a danger by making some sign of peace. 'Do not fear,' he answered ; ' it will suffice for me to show my pastoral cross.' Strange to say, the Natives, who had been determined to fight, shouted with joy, and prepared to give him a hearty reception. Scarcely had he put his foot on the shore, when about three hundred Natives crowded around him. They begged pardon for their fault, and the chief, after a moment's silent reflection, declared that he would not only return the stolen goods, but that he would also give to the stranger a piece of land as reparation for the insult he had received. ' Now,' he added, 'we seek his friendship.' The Natives threAV up their arms and cried, ' The Bishop is with, us; he Avill make us happy.' The day before yesterday the Rev. Fathers Epale and Potiljean left for Hangoura, about twenty leagues from the episcopal residence. To-morroAv Father Comte will visit the tribe of Wirinaki. A deputation of the leading members of the tribe a feAv days ago asked the Bishop to send them a missionary. The prelate said "that he had no priest Avho kneAv Maori. 'But Avhat does it matter?' they said. 'We will teach him. It is a long time since you promised one, and if you do not keep your word we will not leave you.' The Bishop consented to the ardor tfi their desires, and noAv they are very happy. Whilst my brethren are converting the savage tribes I am edified at the sight of the virtues of our Bishop. What admirable SAA'eetness he displays in the midst of the people who distrust him at all times ! > These islanders are truly children, AA-hose indiscretion is equalled only by the patience of tha dovoted prelate. Extracts from a letter of Rev. Father R. P. Chataigner, S.M. (first pastor of Christchurch), to his -brother, and translated from the original French. To understand the nature of the journey described :n the narrative which follows it would appear that Father Chataigner took passage from Lyttelton on board one of the small sailing coastal craft, which landed him somewhere in the vicinity of Port Chalmers, this- being evidently the speediest method of reaching his destination. Finding himself, hoAvever, much farther south than was necessary, he turned, again northwards, on Avhat proved to be a long, toilsome, and dangerous journey. Dating his letter from Christchurch, November 19, 1860, he wrote: ' At the moment your letter was delivered to me I was about to proceed *to a sick call at a distance of about a hundred leagues. This voyage of tAA-o days shortened tho distance and spared my strength. On arriving at 4 o'clock in the afternoon I found that before reaching my destination I had yet another sixty miles to travel on foot through bush, across bays and valleys, over mountains and through rivers. "The road, in order to go to Moeraki?" asked I of tho first Scotchman whom I met on my arrival. He showed me a high mountain covered with large trees. " But it is too far," added he; "you cannot set out on your journey to-day. Here is a hotel, and to-morroAV you will have eighteen hours of daylight before you, and will not run the risk of losing yourself." "Are there any houses along the road?" " Yes, but they are far apart, and perhaps you will not find them." I thanked my man; and three minutes later, my little sack on my shoulder and my inseparable umbrella in my hand, I had disappeared under the trees in the forest. All went well with me until night. I scaled the mountain, and descended on the other '■„ side at Blueskin Bay. When .the shades of night fell "across my way, already so difficult to follow, I had ro other thought in my mind save my road and my sick call. Finding a path through the ferns and scrub, I followed it until I found myself in a sAvamp ; but by the aid of the twilight I found an open way, and at the same time ', my appearance here" gave fright to a troop of wild pigs that rushed into the bush. There was still enough light to enable me to cross a river, and thus shorten my way. Be-

hold me now in the middle of the forest, with the hope of soon coming across a house; but in vain. The longer I walked the more I sank into the mud, which had now become knee-deep. The darkness of the night was complete, and my way was now only a miserable bit of a path where. I pulled like an ox in order to release tny feet from the mire. I understood then that my friend the Scotchman was right. After four hours more of walking I at last left the mud behind me, and soon reached again the summit of the mountain, where more than ever it was impossible to find" a road or a house; so I sat down under a bush, and my little sack served me as a bolster; and_as I was almost on the summit of the snowcovered mountain, I had no", other' protection from cold save my umbrella. At 4 o'clock I had no difficulty in rising, and behold me again on the path I had lost the evening before, which was only two steps from my couch ! At 10 o'clock in the morning I arrived at " Cherry Farm," on the border of the sea, where there were three or four houses. (Can any reader of these Memoirs locate this "Cherry Farm"?) I knocked at the door of one, and asked for a piece of bread, and found that the, woman was a Catholic. She gave me a piece of bread and a cup of tea, but no more, for it was Friday, and she" had only meat to offer me. Eleven miles further I found at Goodwood a hotel, with a better table and a bed on which to rest my weary limbs, for I had walked forty miles. The following day I reached Mr. G 's at Moeraki. Alas ! it was too late. Mr. G conducted me to" the room, and on opening the door said to me, " Come and see." We knelt down before the coffin, for Mrs. G had ' passed away ten days before. The following day, Sunday, we recited together the Office of the Dead, and the funeral prayers. The interment will take place in three or four months' time in the family vault at Sydney. All that they told me about the good woman made me believe that my presence here was not necessary. Two years previously this good man had sold for £60,000 his property in Australia in order to come to this country for the benefit of his wife's health. He had time to build a fine house in a cluster of trees bordering on the sea, and in the middle of an estate 100,000 acres in extent, on which he had already 9000 sheep and some hundreds of horses and cattle.'