Mission Station, New Norcia,
_10th October 1883_.
I am writing late at night for we start at daylight to-morrow, having a
long journey, more than 84 miles, to make before dark, as the Governor
wishes to reach Perth in time to catch the outgoing English mail.
I think you would have enjoyed this stopping place more than all the
others, and you can’t think how picturesque and charming it looked as
we drove up about five o’clock the evening after I last wrote. We had
halted for lunch and tea that day at two comfortable and prosperous
stations, and our road had afterwards lain through partly cleared
forest, with occasional bits of open and cultivated country. Every now
and then we had passed small “mobs” of sheep feeding in the “bush,”
guarded by a native shepherd and his dogs, and we had seen many
paroquets and small birds flitting among the tall trees. There are
lots of wild turkeys about—I forgot to tell you we had seen as well as
tasted these, in and about Geraldton—but no one could get a shot at
them, nor at the “Gnows,” curious birds, something between a common hen
and a pheasant, but with the habits of an ostrich! They lay the most
enormous eggs, twice the size of an ordinary hen’s egg, and then cover
them up in the sand; no nest, just a hole in the sand. The parents
don’t trouble their heads any more about the chicks; the sun hatches
the eggs, and the instant the young birds come out they can take care
of themselves as to food. But the hawks probably get many a meal off
them.
However, to return to New Norcia. As soon as we came upon the Mission
land we observed here and there a large cross “blazed” upon the trunks
of the trees as a boundary mark, and after we had slowly mounted a
rather long incline, more than a hill, we came upon the prettiest
imaginable sight. Just below us lay a wide fertile valley, with a large
and prosperous village or, indeed, town, mapped out by excellent roads
and streets, with neat little houses on either side. In the centre
stood a good-sized chapel, with fine schools near it; and the large
monastery on the opposite side of the road seemed to have a splendid
garden at the back, stretching down to the river-side. Between our
cavalcade, however, and this building were many arches and flags, and
a great concourse of people, chiefly natives and half-castes, all in
their best clothes. From amongst these a procession of the good Fathers
and the lay Brothers soon detached itself and advanced to meet your
father, singing a hymn of welcome. It was really a beautiful sight, and
the splendour of the afternoon made it still more beautiful.
We alighted as soon as we met the Fathers, and the Governor walked
with them up to the big arch spanning the gateway of the monastery.
There an address was presented, and presently we went into the large
courtyard, round three sides of which the monastery is built. In front
of the wide verandah, on the left, all the school children were drawn
up, and behind them again stood the band. Yes, a regular stringed band,
some eighteen or twenty strong, of native boys; one playing a big
double bass, others violins, a ’cello and so forth. Such nice little
fellows—black as jet, but intelligent, well-looking, and well-mannered,
and earnest in their work. They were admirably trained and taught, led
by a very musical lay Brother.
After the inevitable “God save,” the children sang hymns and some of
their own little songs quite charmingly; and then all the men on the
station were allowed to let off their guns, in a sort of informal
salute, this being their great idea of enjoying themselves. As we were
safely on our own feet I did not mind it, but I wonder what the horses
would have thought of such popping and banging. I espied one half-caste
native who was evidently dreadfully afraid of his gun, and fired it off
very much as I should have done, had fate compelled me to discharge a
musket. He wriggled and crouched behind the others, turned his head
away, held his gun as far off as possible, and high up in the air,
tugging desperately at the trigger all the time; just as he must have
been beginning to hope that it did not intend to go off at all, _pouf_,
came a great bang, and he flung it down and ran off. He was a stalwart
young fellow, and all his braver neighbours laughed heartily at him.
We had a delicious supper and most comfortable beds, and only woke
next morning to hear the splendid bell, as old as the time of Charles
V., ringing for matins. It is impossible to imagine anything more
devoted and beautiful than the life these good Fathers lead, or more
encouraging than the results of their mission work of about thirty-five
years. You can imagine how hard it must have been at first to catch
these savages, and to teach them anything at all; and knowing this made
it more wonderful to see all these civilised, comfortable, industrious
people, whose parents were very little better than beasts of the field
in habits and customs. But perseverance and kindness and infinite
patience have worked a change like a miracle. One saw the result of
it all during the long, pleasant day spent in visiting schools and
workshops, going into the neat, comfortable cottages, and finally
sitting down to watch a capital game of cricket between the natives and
the lay Brothers, most of whom were Spaniards, or of Spanish descent.
You would have liked to see that game, and I am sure the way the
natives ran would have astonished you! They make capital cricketers,
with their correct eye and accurate aim, and love of the game.
Before this the gentlemen had taken a long walk to visit the more
distant fields and vineyards, and they too returned delighted with
what they had seen. And the good Fathers are so simple with it all,
so earnest to do good, so hopeful, such loyal subjects of the land
they live in, and so hospitable. Every one speaks well of them, and of
the Mission, and of their work. I am afraid you schoolboys would have
enjoyed only too much the delicious, sweet things the lay Brother, who
cooked, made for us. Such wonderful cakes, such delicate sweeties!
Frugal and abstemious as they are themselves, they lavish all sorts of
dainties on their visitors. Not only did we eat a shameful quantity
of these nice things, but the carriage was loaded with quantities
of delicacies, beautiful oranges, a fine, flat kind of macaroni, an
ethereal sort of _méringue_, and all sorts of nice things.
This evening, after our supper-dinner, between seven and eight o’clock,
we took our chairs out and sat in the courtyard under the soft, bright
starlight, whilst, at my request, the children played and sang again to
us. The performance did not last so long as I should have liked, for
we did not wish to keep the little people up too late, but it was very
charming, and we had a famous scramble for sugar-plums afterwards. They
trooped off just as the moon was rising, and we heard their shrill,
sweet voices calling out “good-night” to us and to each other for quite
a long time.
Do you know what Benedictines are? Well, these good Fathers belong to
that Order; I don’t understand much about it myself, but I can only say
that any order, or any creed, or any country, may well be proud of such
excellent, devoted men, and of the results of their life’s work.
Now I must really go to bed, for we start at daylight to-morrow. Every
light is out except mine; but my last written word must be to tell you
once more how hospitable and kind every one has been to us, and how
thoroughly we have all enjoyed our delightful little visit to the New
Norcia Mission.