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CHAPTER VIII. — CONFESSION AND SORROW OF NO AVAIL.

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It was a part of my business to wait upon the priests in their rooms, carry them water, clean towels, wine-glasses, or anything they needed. When entering a priest's room it was customary for a child to knock twice, an adult four times, and a priest three times. This rule I was very careful to observe. Whenever a priest opened the door I was required to courtesy, and fall upon my knees; but if it was opened by one of the waiters this ceremony was omitted. These waiters were the boys I have before mentioned, called apostles. It was also a part of my business to wait upon them, carry them clean frocks, etc.

One day I was carrying a pitcher of water to one of the priests, and it being very heavy, it required both my hands and nearly all my strength to keep it upright. On reaching the door, however, I attempted to hold it with one hand (as I dare not set it down), while I rapped with the other. In so doing I chanced to spill a little water on the floor. Just at that moment the door was opened by the priest himself, and when he saw the water he was very angry. He caught me by the arm and asked what punishment he should inflict upon me for being so careless. I attempted to explain how it happened, told him it was an accident, that I was very sorry, and would try to be more careful in future. But I might as well have said that I was glad, and would do so again, for my confession, sorrow, and promises of future obedience were entirely thrown away, and might as well have been kept for some one who could appreciate the feeling that prompted them.

He immediately led me out of his room, it being on the second floor, and down into the back yard. Here, in the centre of the gravel walk, was a grate where they put down coal. This grate he raised and bade me go down. I obeyed, and descending a few steps found myself in a coal cellar, the floor being covered with it for some feet in depth. On this we walked some two rods, perhaps, when the priest stopped, and with a shovel that stood near cleared away the coal and lifted a trap door. Through this we descended four or five steps, and proceeded along a dark, narrow passage, so low we could not stand erect, and the atmosphere so cold and damp it produced the most uncomfortable sensations. By the light of a small lantern which the priest carried in his hand, I was enabled to observe on each side the passage small doors, a few feet apart, as far as I could see. Some of them were open, others shut, and the key upon the outside. In each of these doors there was a small opening, with iron bars across it, through which the prisoner received food, if allowed to have any. One of these doors I was directed to enter, which I did with some difficulty, the place being so low, and I was trembling with cold and fear. The priest crawled in after me and tied me to the back part of the cell, leaving me there in midnight darkness, and locking the door after him. I could hear on all sides, as it seemed to me, the sobs, groans, and shrieks of other prisoners, some of whom prayed earnestly for death to release them from their sufferings.

For twenty-four hours I was left to bear as I best could the pains and terrors of cold, hunger, darkness, and fatigue. I could neither sit or lie down, and every one knows how very painful it is to stand upon the feet a long time, even when the position can be slightly changed; how much more so when no change can be effected, but the same set of muscles kept continually on the stretch for the space of twenty-four hours! Moreover, I knew not how long I should be kept there. The other prisoners, whose agonizing cries fell upon my ears, were evidently suffering all the horrors of starvation. Was I to meet a fate like this? Were those terrible sufferings in reserve for me? How could I endure them? And then came the thought so often present with me while in the convent, "If there is a God in heaven, why does He permit such things? What have I done that I should become the victim of such cruelty? God of mercy!" I involuntarily exclaimed, "save me from this terrible death."

My prayer was heard, my petition granted. At the close of twenty-four hours, the Lady Superior came and released me from my prison, told me to go to the priest and ask his forgiveness, and then go to my work in the kitchen. I was very faint and weak from my long fast, and I resolved never to offend again. I verily thought I could be careful enough to escape another such punishment. But I had not been in the kitchen one hour, when I chanced to let a plate fall upon the floor. It was in no way injured, but I had broken the rules by making a noise, and the Superior immediately reported me to the priest. He soon appeared with his bunch of keys and a dark lantern in his hand. He took me by the ear which he pinched till he brought tears to my eyes, saying, "You don't try to do well, and I'll make you suffer the consequences." I did not reply, for I had learned that to answer a priest, or seek to vindicate myself, or even to explain how things came to be so, was in itself a crime, to be severely punished. However unjust their treatment, or whatever my feelings might be, I knew it was better to suffer in silence.

Unlocking a door that opened out of the kitchen, and still keeping hold of my ear, he led me into a dark, gloomy hall, with black walls, and opening a door on the right, he bade me enter. This room was lighted by a candle, and around the sides, large iron hooks with heavy chains attached to them, were driven into the wall. At the back part of the room, he opened the door, and bade me enter a small closet. He then put a large iron ring over my head, and pressed it down upon my shoulders. Heavy weights were placed in my hands, and I was told to stand up straight, and hold them fifteen minutes. This I could not do. Had my life depended upon the effort, I could not have stood erect, with those weights in my hands. The priest, however, did not reprove me. Perhaps he saw that I exerted all my strength to obey, for he took out his watch, and slowly counted the minutes as they passed. Ere a third part of the time expired, he was obliged to release me, for the blood gushed from my nose and mouth, and I began to feel faint and dizzy. The irons were removed, and the blood ceased to flow.

I was then taken to another room, lighted like the other, but it was damp and cold, and pervaded by a strong, fetid, and very offensive odor. The floor was of wood, and badly stained with blood. At least, I thought it was blood, but there was not light enough to enable me to say positively what it was. In the middle of the room, stood two long tables, on each of which, lay a corpse, covered with a white cloth. The priest led me to these tables, removed the cloth and bade me look upon the face of the dead. They were very much emaciated, and the features, even in death, bore the impress of terrible suffering. We stood there a few moments, when he again led me back to his own room. He then asked me what I thought of what I had seen. Having taken no food for more than twenty-four hours, I replied, "I am so hungry, I can think of nothing else." "How would you like to eat those dead bodies?" he asked. "I would starve, Sir, before I would do it," I replied. "Would you?" said he, with a slight sneer. "Yes indeed," I exclaimed, striving to suppress my indignant feelings. "What! eat the flesh of a corpse? You do not mean it. I would starve to death first!" Frightened at my own temerity in speaking so boldly, I involuntarily raised my eye. The peculiar smile upon his face actually chilled my blood with terror. He did not, however, seem to notice me, but said, "Do not be too sure; I have seen others quite as sure as you are, yet they were glad to do it to save their lives; and remember," he added significantly, "you will do it too if you are not careful." He then ordered me to return to the kitchen.

At ten o'clock in the morning, the nuns had a slice of bread and cup of water; but, as I had been fasting, they gave me a bowl of gruel, composed of indian meal and water, with a little salt. A poor dinner this, for a hungry person, but I could have no more. At eleven, we went to mass in the chapel as usual. It was our custom to have mass every day, and I have been told that this is true of all Romish establishments. Returning to my work in the kitchen, I again resolved that I would be so careful, that, in future they should have no cause for complaint For two days I succeeded. Yes, for two whole days, I escaped punishment. This I notice as somewhat remarkable, because I was generally punished every day, and sometimes two or three times in a day.

On the third morning, I was dusting the furniture in the room occupied by the priest above mentioned, who treated me so cruelly. The floor being uncarpeted, in moving the chairs I chanced to make a slight noise, although I did my best to avoid it. He immediately sprang to his feet, exclaiming, "You careless dog! What did you do that for?" Then taking me by the arms, he gave me a hard shake, saying, "Have I not told you that you would be punished, if you made a noise? But I see how it is with you; your mind is on the world, and you think more of that, than you do of the convent. But I shall punish you until you do your duty better." He concluded this choice speech by telling me to "march down stairs." Of course, I obeyed, and he followed me, striking me on the head at every step, with a book he held in his hand. I thought to escape some of the blows, and hastened along, but all in vain; he kept near me and drove me before him into the priests sitting-room. He then sent for three more priests, to decide upon my punishment. A long consultation they held upon "this serious business," as I sneeringly thought it, but the result was serious in good earnest, I assure you. For the heinous offence of making a slight noise I was to have dry peas bound upon my knees, and then be made to crawl to St. Patrick's church, through an underground passage, and back again. This church was situated on a hill, a little more than a quarter of a mile from the convent. Between the two buildings, an under-ground passage had been constructed, just large enough to allow a person to crawl through it on the hands and knees. It was so low, and narrow, that it was impossible either to rise, or turn around; once within that passage there was no escape, but to go on to the end. They allowed me five hours to go and return; and to prove that I had really been there, I was to make a cross, and two straight lines, with a bit of chalk, upon a black-board that I should find at the end.

O, the intolerable agonies I endured on that terrible pathway! Any description that I can give, will fail to convey the least idea of the misery of those long five hours. It may, perchance, seem a very simple mode of punishment, but let any one just try it, and they will be convinced that it was no trifling thing. At the end, I found myself in a cellar under the church, where there was light enough to enable me to find the board and the chalk. I made the mark according to orders, and then looked around for some means of escape. Alas! There was none to be found. Strong iron bars firmly secured the only door, and a very slight examination convinced me that my case was utterly hopeless. I then tried to remove the peas from my swollen, bleeding limbs, but this, too, I found impossible. They were evidently fastened by a practised hand; and I was, at length, compelled to believe that I must return as I came. I did return; but O, how, many times I gave up in despair, and thought I could go no further! How many times did I stretch myself on the cold stones, in such bitter agony, that I could have welcomed death as a friend and deliverer! What would I not have given for one glass of cold water, or even for a breath of fresh air! My limbs seemed on fire, and while great drops of perspiration fell from my face, my throat and tongue were literally parched with thirst. But the end came at last, and I found the priest waiting for me at the entrance. He seemed very angry, and said, "You have been gone over your time. There was no need of it; you could have returned sooner if you had chosen to do so, and now, I shall punish you again, for being gone so long." At first, his reproaches grieved me, for I had done my best to please him, and I did so long for one word of sympathy, it seemed for a moment, as though my heart would break. Had he then spoken one kind word to me, or manifested the least compassion for my sufferings, I could have forgiven the past, and obeyed him with feelings of love and gratitude for the future. Yes, I would have done anything for that man, if I could have felt that he had the least pity for me; but when he said he should punish me again, my heart turned to stone. Every tender emotion vanished, and a fierce hatred, a burning indignation, and thirst for revenge, took possession of my soul.


Life in the Grey Nunnery at Montreal

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