The following excerpts are from the book, Letters Written in Good Faith, an account of Abbot Bernard H. Pennings’ journey from Berne Abbey in Holland to the Door County Penninsula, where the first Norbertine missions were established in the New World .
Introduction:
 In November 1893 three Dutch Norbertines, two priests and a brother, responded to the call of an American Bishop to begin a mission among French and Walloon speaking Catholics in far away America. In November 1893 they left, Fathers Pennings and Broens and Brother Servatius, from the ancient Berne Abbey, in the small rural village of Heeswijk, Holland on a very long journey which would take them across the ocean, and then first to the mind-boggling metropolises of New York and Chicago, and from there to the American frontier, to a remote hamlet, Delwich, in the primitive forests of the Green Bay Peninsula of Wisconsin. They arrived mid-winter.
The Story of the Norbertine Mission has survived in a large collection of letters written by priests and brothers to confreres and family in the homeland. Many letters were preserved either in the archives of the Berne Abbey or in the missionary publication Het Offer (The Sacrifice).
The collection of letters, which is for the period between 1890 and 1947, is a large one, a little less than 400 letters, about 1200 pages of double-spaced text in the English translation. It is an extraordinary tale which these letters tell, of deprivation and self-denial, of sacrifice and service, of adaptation and Americanization, of faith and vision. It is a very human story, of disappointments but also of successes. It is above all an important story, from a uniquely Dutch and Catholic perspective, one which takes us back to American origins which are as interesting to scholars as they are to the spiritual sons and daughters of those immigrants.
Second Set of Letters
November 1, 1893
Dearest Mother, Sister and Brother, Family and Friends.
So finally we are sitting quietly and comfortably on the great steam-ship "Veenclam." It is exactly 1:30 p.m. now, we have just had lunch -lit a cigar, then on to writing letters. Up to now everything is going as well as we could possibly wish; we are healthy and hale and above all have good appetites.
But I must start my story at the beginning, so back in mind to a few hours ago. This morning we got up at 4 a.m., and exactly at 4:30, we rode off to Church, where we had the great privilege of offering up Holy Mass in honor of All Saints, and especially of her who is called and also is the" Star of the Sea," the Blessed Virgin Mary. At 5:30, we rode to the boat in the same carriage which meanwhile had picked up His Eminence [the Abbot] and Fr. Mickers; we were on board already before six, checked to see whether our trunks were all right, and then calmly had another good look all around until it was time for departure. At 6:30 sharp the steam whistle sounds, it reverberates throughout the colossal ship, and goes through marrow and bone, then the bell rings 3 times, and twenty hands pull the gangplank ashore, while a small tug pulls us away from the pier.
We were the only ones who had the pleasure of being able to wave a last farewell with hat and handkerchief, for His Eminence and Fr. Mickers remained standing on the pier as long as we could see each other. Naturally our activities during the first hour were no more than looking about and around the boat. There is not a hint of sea-sickness as yet, but we sure could tell the minute we hit the open sea: the rumbling of the engines, the rocking on the waves, it affects your whole body, especially your head. I experienced about the same sensation you have when a train you are on makes a sudden stop. Brother Servatius was so scared already that he's gone to his cabin to lie down on the couch; we kept on smoking and strolling about calm as ever as if we had made the trip 20 times before, and in just a few hours we had gotten used to it all. I think that it was especially a little cognac we had about 11 o'cJock that did us a lot of good. Walking on deck isn't all that pleasant, because the wind is pretty strong; but now that we have found a windbreak behind the captain's cabin, it's not that bad, provided you are wearing a warm coat, have your collar turned up, and have on a warm travel cap. It is impossible to describe the boat etc. now; everything is splendid and super. We are steaming along very calmly and have a good time every time we see other ships nearby that are rocking and rolling. ,I ~
There are just a few passengers: 100 third class, 50 second and 15 first class; and that despite the fact that there is room for 200 first class [passengers] and all told there is room for 2,000, repeat two thousand [passengers]. Besides ourselves, there is one Hollander in the first class, an elderly Friesian, a good man, the rest are Germans. We have already made the acquaintance of a few of them; they are very friendly and cheerful; around nine this morning we already had lots of music, piano and voice, splendid. And mind you, there is an elderly lady in our company who might just as well be wearing pants; she has made this ocean trip many times; this morning she came into the smoking room smoking a cigar just as chipper as any man you ever saw; and she talks as much as all the rest of us put together; it is a German lady.
The ship is beginning to rock a bit, and several ladies would like to think they're seasick; but it's still too early for that; Brother Servatius is also getting scared again. My paper is getting full, so I'll have to call it a day. Heartfelt greetings to all of you from the three of us. Give my greetings to the Right Rev. Father, Rector Klaasen, the Reverend Curates, our family and acquaintances, and above all, receive warmest greetings from me. Fare you well, dear mother, Jana, Johan. Fare you well and pray much for me and my fellow brothers.
Your loving son and brother,
H. Pennings, O. Praem.
On board the “Veendam”
November 12, 1893
Your Eminence and Dear Confreres,
For hours now I have been sitting here writing a short description of our trip. As calm as the sea is, there still is too much motion to enjoy writing. I have requested that a student make a copy of my scribbling and mail it to you. Our voyage was not speedy, but still we were fortunate. I had ten times more trouble with seasickness than I had expected and so did Brother Servatius; while he sought solace in eating and regurgitating, I thought to fine relief by abstaining and retaining. Thank God, we are both cured, and now are as chipper as we ever have been.
Fr. Lambert did not join the ranks of those who were seasick, he is as surprised at himself as we are. Only he did suffer from headachesI several times, today again. Our confrere was the only person missing at the last dinner, but now it is evening and things are better again; just now I see him sitting down at the late supper table; I am also going to have a cup of tea. Brother Servatius retired to bed already an hour ago.
Something funny just happened at the table. The German, Grunke, and the Frisian, Meyer, are poking fun of each other, but neither one understands a word of what the other is saying; the rest of us are roaring with laughter, the waiters included. There is a lot of merrymaking today, already this morning one could sense in all classes that we are approaching the new world. We hope to see land very early tomorrow and to be on dry land before noon. The pilot already came on board today.
It's a pity that we cannot say Mass tomorrow. It would have been such a remarkable coincidence. First All Saints in Europe, and then [the Feast of All Saints] of the Order in America. However, it will not be possible. Did anyone in Heeswijk forget to think of us during the Gospel reading last Sunday? If so, that confrere should read it again; it was a prediction of what was to happen a few days later. I am very sorry that it was not convenient for me to write something every day, alas, my [poor] head did not allow it; if I had been as chipper as yesterday and today, it would have been easy. As it was, I had to stay up on deck as much as possible. Brother Servatius just does not want to write yet, "later," he says, "when we are in our new quarters." Nevertheless, he did jot down some things in his notebook.
Above all don't allow those who follow us to forget to take along Lemons and Rhine wine! Please do accept our respectful and affectionate greetings, and pass them on to friends and acquaintances.
Paternitatis vestrae Confrs et fillii subditissimi nomine omnium (The Confreres and most obedient sons of your Paternity in the name of all)
H. Pennings. Prior!!
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