Untold History: How a new life was planted in WA, from battleship to bread and olives

There was plenty of opportunity for those who read the Perth Gazette and Independent Journal of Politics and News on January 4, 1850. As was the custom at the time, the front page was devoted to public notices and advertisements. And so “shippers of timber, wool, oil” were alerted to the imminent arrival from London of a vessel which would begin loading for its return voyage immediately after it had discharged its inward-bound cargo. Others might have taken a moment to linger on the advertisement offering for sale or let, a licenced public house, The Golden Fleece, “situated on the high road from Guildford to Northam.” Or perhaps they may have taken a mental note to go and investigate the Harvest Ale and Brown Stout at the Stanley Brewery, which had been “brewed for the purpose of giving increased vigour and strength to the sinews of the working men, and also to their employers”. And on the next page a news report gave an explanation for the event which had caused “no little excitement in our generally, unexcitable community” — the unexpected arrival at Fremantle port of a Spanish warship. Indeed there may well have been much alarm caused by the arrival of Ferrolana, which had fired its canons in a military salute when it dropped anchor. But the little colonial outpost had been caught off guard and had not been able to return the compliment. To explain the apparent snub, the local officials sent an emissary to the vessel to explain to Capt. Quesada the colony’s “apparent discourtesy,” the paper reported. It was due to the colony’s “meagre possessions in the way of ordnance,” which meant that what Capt. Quesada saw on the shore on “Gaol Hill” (the Roundhouse) — “was not a fort, but merely three or four old guns, only one of which was fit for service.” The explanation might also have added “there was not sufficient powder at hand, even if there were a sufficiency of cannon, to return his courtesy,” the paper said. With the event explained the paper relayed some good news — the arrival of 40 Benedictine missionaries and artisans, led by Bishop Jose Serra, who were predominantly from Spain and secondly from Italy, who were seen as a welcome shot in the arm for the struggling British colony. “The thanks of the colony are justly due to Bishop Serra,” the paper said. He had “furthered in no slight degree the interests of his adopted country, by introducing into it so large an accession of population, some of whom, coming from countries pre-eminently famed for the growth of the vine and olive, are doubtless well acquainted with their cultivation, and will do much towards the development here”. “We understand that all have been selected with care for their aptitude at the different professions they exercise,” the paper said. The youngest was Jeroni Rodoreda, from Granollers, 40km north-east of Barcelona, aged just 18. His story has come to light in two books. One is The Marsa Diary — a translation by Marta Perez-Rey of a diary kept by a Benedictine who arrived with Rodoreda — Francisco de Asis Marsa I Amigo. The other is Not By Bread Alone: The Life of Jerome Rodoreda, by Ken Spillman, which refers to the Marsa account. And taken together they offer a fascinating glimpse into the early life of the Swan River Colony. Spillman’s book says that Rodereda had trained as a baker before he was recruited by Bishop Rosendo Salvado to join the missionary party. As revealed in Marsa’s diary, the voyage to the colony saw the beginnings of a rivalry which would descend into deep dislike and eventually tear apart the tiny Catholic community in Perth. It pitted Irish-born Fr Dominic Urquhart against Serra. On arrival in Fremantle Urquhart was quick to seek out fellow Irishman, Bishop John Brady — consecrated as the first Bishop of Perth in May 1845 — as an ally. Serra and Brady were soon in a bitter struggle which pitted the diocese against the New Norcia mission as they clashed over control, assets and funds, including debts Brady had run up. After a ten day trek, their goal was reached — described by Spillman as little more than three modest buildings. Perez-Ray outlines how the fast moving clash between Brady and Serra deteriorated further and Brady had already had his rival excommunicated. On February 6, Brady gave orders for the seizure of everything belonging to the mission. In response, on March 15, the missionaries received word from Serra ordering them to leave New Norcia, and they moved to Guildford on another plot of land Serra had leased. As Serra pondered moving the mission further away, in October 1850 news arrived from Rome — papal authority had backed him and Brady and Urquhart were ordered to quit the colony. The following period saw the Benedictines live at locations including Guildford and The Lakes district — now Herdsman Lake (Ngurgenboro to the Noongar people) and Lake Monger (Galup to the Noongar people). Spillman says that Rodoreda lived and worked near Herdsman Lake in temporary huts and the Benedictines grew vegetables, grain, vines, olives and other fruit trees. And the name New Subiaco — after the Italian town of Subiaco — entered the history books. Construction of the New Subiaco monastery building overlooking Lake Monger began in 1858. But by then Rodoreda and Marsa had both decided the life they had hoped for when they sailed for the Swan River Colony was not as hoped. Perez-Rey says Marsa left the mission in July 1851 and started working as a printer for Arthur Shenton, publisher of the Perth Gazette and Independent Journal of Politics and News — which much later became The West Australian. Marsa left Fremantle in 1853 to return to Spain. Spillman says that in October 1852 Rodoreda handed back his habit and joined life outside the Benedictine order. Changing his name to a more Anglicised sounding Jerome, he went to work at a bakery on the corner of Hay and King Streets, in Perth, and eventually took over the business, advertising in The Inquirer in 1855 that he “will supply the customers the same as before; and also will be able to supply a great variety of cakes.” After moving on to several different premises, he opened for business in April 1858 on Howick Street, (later Hay Street) west of Pier Street. By this time he had married Mary Anne Hynes, a milliner from Ireland, who had arrived among 53 single women in March 1854. The business and the family grew, eventually including nine children. Despite leaving the Benedictine order, Rodoreda maintained his church going, and after the opening of St Mary’s Cathedral in 1865 — just 400m from the bakery — he served as organist and choirmaster. Spillman wrote that about two dozen bakers were known to be operating in Perth in the 1870s, but Rodoreda’s skill was such that he won the business of government house under governor John Hampton. Hampton’s wife Mary died soon after the Hamptons returned to England. But Rodoreda “enterprisingly used her endorsement in advertising: ‘Go to Rodoreda; his bread is worth buying’ — late Mrs Hampton’.” Rodoreda also became one of the few colonists of non-English speaking background to become an employer in the period, with six bakers on his payroll between 1859 and 1870, Spillman wrote. He also agreed to share his bread-making secrets with the monastery at New Norcia. “Remarkably, he emphasised the need for confidentiality, demonstrating his awareness of the value of intellectual property,” Spillman wrote. Rodoreda said confidentiality “was no loss to the mission” but the lack of it “might do great injury to me,” and asked that the mission translate his recipe into Spanish and then “burn the English” original document.. At the age of 40, his transformation from young man from Catalonia in a strange world had evolved to such an extent that he was naturalised as a British subject. Sadly, Mary Anne Rodoreda died in 1881. Among those to provide Rodoreda support was another of those who had arrived in the colony with him, Marti Grive, also from Granollers — who became Martin Griver, as Spillman notes, for the convenience of the British settlers. Griver was to become the second Catholic Bishop of Perth. Spillman wrote that on a visit to Granollers, Griver met Rodoreda’s relatives and in 1883 took back to Perth with him letters from Rodoreda’s brothers, which he had transcribed into English. Rodoreda wrote back and his letters were unearthed in the possession of Rodoreda descendants in Granollers during research by the Perth-based branch of the Rodoreda family — which was driven by his great-great granddaughter Gillian Rodoreda, and Tom Stephens, former Labor Party MP and husband of Gillian’s cousin Anne. Rodoreda urged his brothers not to laugh at his Spanish “because it has almost forgotten me” and “now I always read or write English.” Spillman wrote that Rodoreda proudly said the house he lived in was his own, without debt, and he grew vines and fig trees. “All the notable gentlemen take bread from my store”, he wrote. “Sometimes I have in my house 150 sacks or more of flour; a few days ago I bought 100 sacks; so you can see there is abundance.” He said the weather in Perth was “delicious,” fruit of all kinds were grown “as beautiful as the ones Spain can produce,” and that working on Sunday was banned, allowing everyone to enjoy a walk. And just like migrants to WA down the ages, he wrote of his trouble adjusting to a different diet. Rodoreda was grateful that Mary Anne had often “cooked in the Catalan way” for otherwise it was “meat, meat, meat” and much butter and milk, Spillman wrote. “They have more sugar in a week than we would have used in Catalonia in the whole course of our lives,” he wrote. In 1889 he transferred his bakery business to his son Charles and moved to Melbourne with his daughter Isabella, who battled mental health problems before she died in 1909. Jerome died in 1910 while living in East Melbourne., already grandfather to 16 living grandchildren. “The name Rodoreda was firmly implanted in Australian soil, and it would flourish,” Spillman says. “As one of Western Australia’s first non-English speaking migrants, he embodied the character of many who would follow.” New Norcia remains one of WA’s most significant heritage towns and a tourist destination renowned for its architecture and produce, including bread and olive oil. But it also has a historical dark side. The State Government noted in 2022 that what had started as a bush mission for the Yued Noongar people and the education of Aboriginal children, had in the 20th century “became a place of institutional trauma.” “New Norcia’s legacy as one of the locations involved in the institutionalisation and abuse of Aboriginal children in WA — largely from the 1950s to the 1970s — is documented in the 2017 Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse,” the Government said. In 2017 the New Norcia Benedictine community said it acknowledged “our grave failures” and reiterated “our sincere apology to those who have been abused by past members of our community.”