The Convent of our Lady of Compassion, Acocks Green
This is the story of the foundation of The Convent of our Lady
of Compassion, Acocks Green. It was written by one of the Sisters
at the Convent. The original was written in French and this is
a translation.
Foundation of Acocks Green
The Last Sighs of the Larch (by Mere SteTherese)
Listen my friends, do you think 80 is old for a tree of my
sort? I still feel young and vigorous and have no desire to die
yet!
I have been a part of the landscape for so long. I have seen
trees die and have watched mortals pass by! I remember a time
when there were hardly any houses in the Warwick Road; only a
few humble cottages covered with ivy and climbing roses, the old
"Dolphin" and the "Spread Eagle", old picturesque
Inns that the brick palaces of Mitchell and Butler can never replace.
From this corner of the earth where I have spent my life, I
have learned many things. I remember when I was very small, not
higher than that, hearing the villagers say of passers-by: "Those
are Catholics, they are going to hear mass at the Inn on the corner
of Broad Street - you know the place where Doctor Bradford who
was a friend of the Compassion for so long, built his house".
Later on the Catholics went in the opposite direction, to Olton,
to Mass.
One fine day, about 75 years ago, two humans came to visit
our heights. They carefully examined the wooded parts where my
brother and I had so long lived in peace with the squirrels, the
rabbits and the birds. Alas! Times were about to change... those
two went over the whole meadow which stretched out behind us and
as they went past me on their way back to Warwick Road they spoke
words which went through my heart like a dagger. "By cutting
down the trees we could build a brewery there, then our house,
and one or two others which we could sell or let. At the back
we could transform the meadow into gardens".
Alas! Soon scythes, hatchets and cords did their devastating
work.... I saw nearly all my brothers fall, one after the other...Why
was I spared?...Well, one of the new proprietors said to the other
as they passed near me: "That young larch will look very
well at the corner of the drive".
Soon three white houses were built. They were admired by the
villagers and passers-by and were soon occupied by rich merchants
from Birmingham. I have seen so many families come and go in those
three houses - I have watched the children grow and disappear....
One day in 1903 I heard a rumour. It was said that Olton Court
had been bought by French nuns. In fact after that I often saw
those peaceful happy women in black veils passing by. They often
looked our way, I expect those three white houses reminded them
a little bit of France.
Two years later, one spring morning, there was a new surprise!
Two nuns from Olton came by carriage to Wilton House where they
were met by an architect, Mr Corser. One, who was elderly and
very dignified had a countenance which spoke of heavy responsibility.
The other young and alert, seemed full of activity. I remember
the remark made by the young sister as they got down at Wilton
House. "Ma Mere, why did the people who inhabit those houses
put up all those shutters inside? They must have been owls!"
I did not hear the Superior's reply, only the indignant exclamation
of my old friend the owl, wakened from his siesta in the thick
foliage of the Chestnut tree.
This visit was soon followed by many others and the house which
had been abandoned for two years came to life again. It was announced
that mass was going to be said in a large room on the ground floor.
In fact on Sunday, 13th August 1905, a clergyman whom I got to
know very well afterwards, the Reverend John Gibbons, came to
offer the Holy Sacrifice for 3 religious and about 30 of the faithful
from roundabout.
The Convent was founded to the great sorrow of my owner who
said she would not live in such a neighbourhood! She was right,
for her house was destined by Providence to become in its turn
the Convent later on. On August 14th three nuns came to live at
Wilton House and on the Feast of the Assumption, Our Lord came
to reside in His new Tabernacle.
On August 16th Mother Superior arrived from France. Young,
capable and supernatural, she was destined for two years to establish
the work on strong supernatural foundations. On September 16th,
to my great joy, I saw several little girls and a small boy, going
up the drive of Wilton House. There were seven of them, a lucky
number for the Religious of the Compassion. Gladys, two Dorothys,
two Winnies, Ella and Charlie, advance guard of the crowd of pupils
who were to follow them for the next 32 years. How I waved my
branches in welcome! But the dear little ones were too occupied
in examining their new school to notice my signs of friendship.
In order to make room for them the Chapel had been transferred
to a wooden hut adjoining the greenhouse in the garden. For two
years this was Acocks Green Church.
What animation, what movement, what gaiety! What a spirit of
friendship there was between mistresses and pupils in this new
school.
It grew rapidly. 30 names were on the register at the end of
the year, 60 the next year. Mere Ste Julienne left the work well
on its way when Mere Aimee de Jesus took over the direction in
1907. Under her guidance the School continued to prosper spiritually
and materially. The cordial union between the mistresses, their
devotedness and the good spirit of the pupils which were the cachet
of the house at its foundation, always remained its distinctive
characteristics.
In the midst of the perils and anxieties of the Great War,
there came a day when "The Hollies", now for sale, became
an annexe to the Convent, but unhappily, the children still came
in by Wilton House and didn't pass very near me. However, in April
1919 my wish was realised, and the joyous band took complete possession
of the house. My little friends now passed under my branches.
How happy and how numerous they were! So numerous that in Autumn
the school was transferred to Malvern House, vacant in its turn
and more adaptable to present needs. The Hollies became definitely
the Convent. How closely I followed the life of this dear House.
How many joys and sorrows I have witnessed in the last 19 years.
In January 1920 a little chapel was arranged in the Convent.
Our Lord came to live in the midst of His children. Since then
how many echoes of their prayers and hymns I have listened to!
I have watched processions pass and first Communions take place.
I have seen old girls coming back to confide their joys and sorrows
to their mistresses. I have seen young married couples come back
to ask for a kiss and a blessing at the dawn of a new life, or
one of the small boys returning as a priest to say mass in the
little Chapel. I have seen parents bringing a dearly loved daughter
to give her to Our Lord.
I have alas! also witnessed funerals. Those of Mere St Paul
and Mere St Felix, cut off in the flower of youth. I have seen
the soul of this house, its Superior and beloved mother go to
receive the reward of a noble life of which the last twenty years
were spent, without thought of self, in giving with both hands
to her dear school the treasures of her piety and long experience.
I have understood the general sorrow at the death of nuns who
were venerated and esteemed. Mere St Anne, Mere St Athanase and
Mere St Victor who was so fond of this house and one of whose
last actions was to give the necessary permission for important
extensions of the buildings. I have also seen the successive ameliorations
in the school equipment, enlargement of class rooms, installation
of a laboratory and a library, rooms reserved for mistresses,
laying down of a hard court and recently the improvement of the
playground.
I have witnessed other changes in these latter years when the
health of Mere St Antoine exhausted in the service of the school
necessitated her being recalled to the Mother House. I have seen
her who devoted herself unceasingly since the beginning of this
house, Mere Marie de la Presentation, come back from France, her
head bowed beneath the weight of a responsibility which God was
soon to exchange for a heavier one. I know that she too, in the
midst of her grave anxieties, often thinks regretfully of her
companion of so many happy years, our present Superior who shares
all her feelings and affections for the dear House, will I am
sure regret me too.
For now it is my turn to go. In the name of progress and civilisation
all the gardens of Warwick Road with their crown of verdure and
beauty must disappear. I have seen renewed about me the devastations
of my youth.
The nuns, my faithful friends have done all they could to prolong
my life, only yesterday one of them placing her hand on me caressingly
said: "Can you not spare this beautiful Larch tree?"
It was quite useless. I am condemned to die like my brothers,
sacrificed for the common good, and to the queer cult of modern
mortals for the straight line.
Nevertheless I beseech you not to deplore my loss. Having been
a praise to my Creator for my beauty, I wish to glorify Him still
by my submission to the decrees of Providence which are an infallible
guide to the events of my life.
And now, Farewell! May my successors, larches and other trees
grow vigorous and sturdy in order to rejoice the eye and elevate
the minds of future generations in this house which is so blessed
by God!
Your old friend, the Larch
December 1937
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