LETTER IX.
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.