RETURN TO THE NUNNERY.
While we remained at this place I was not punished in any of the usual
methods. Perhaps they thought the exposure to a burning sun, and a
severe headache, sufficient to keep me in subjection without any other
infliction. But immediately on my return to the nunnery I was again
subjected to the same cruel, capricious, and unreasonable punishment.
On the first day after my return one of the priests came into the
kitchen where I was at work, and I hastened to give him the usual
respectful salutation, which I have before described. But he took hold
of my arm and said, "What do you look so cross for?" And without giving
me time to reply, even if I had dared to do so, he added, "I'll teach
you not to look cross at me." He left the room, with an expression of
countenance that frightened me. I was not aware of looking cross at him,
though I must confess I had suffered so much at his hands already, I did
not feel very happy in his presence; yet I always endeavored to treat
him with all due respect. Certainly his accusation against me in this
instance was as false as it was cruel. But what of that? I was only
a nun, and who would care if I was punished unjustly? The priest soon
returned with a band of leather, or something of the kind, into which
thorns were fastened in such numbers that the inside was completely
covered with them. This he fastened around my head with the points of
the thorns pressing into the skin, and drew it so tight that the blood
ran in streams over my neck and shoulders. I wore this band, or "crown
of thorns;" as they called it, for six hours, and all the time continued
my work as usual. Then I thought of the "crown of thorns" our Saviour
wore when he gave his life a ransom for the sins of the world. I thought
I could realize something of his personal agony, and the prayer of my
soul went up to heaven for grace to follow his example and forgive my
tormentors.
From this time I was punished every day while I remained there, and
for the most simple things. It was evident they wished to break down my
spirit, but it only confirmed me in my resolution to get away from them
as soon as possible.
One day I chanced to close the door a little too hard. It was mere
accident, but for doing it they burned me with red hot tongs. They kept
them in the fire till they were red hot, then plunged them into cold
water, drew them out as quickly as possible, and immediately applied
them to my arms or feet. The skin would, of course adhere to the iron,
and it would sometime burn down to the bone before they condescended to
remove it. At another time I was cruelly burned on my arms and shoulders
for not standing erect. The flesh was deep in some places, and the agony
I suffered was intolerable. I thought of the stories the Abbess used to
tell me years before about the martyrs who were burned at the stake. But
I had not a martyr's faith, and I could not imitate their patience and
resignation. The sores made on these occasions were long in healing,
and to this day I bear upon my person the scars caused by these frequent
burnings.
I was often punished because I forgot to walk on my toes. For this
trivial offence I have often been made to fast two days. We all wore
cloth shoes, and it was the rule of the house that we should all walk on
tip-toe. Sometimes we would forget, and take a step or two in the usual
way; and then it did seem as though they rejoiced in the opportunity to
inflict punishment. It was the only amusement they had, and there was so
little variety in their daily life, I believe they were glad of anything
to break in upon the monotony of convent life, and give them a little
excitement. It was very hard for me to learn to walk on my toes, and
as I often failed to do it, I was of course punished for the atrocious
crime. But I did learn at last, for what can we not accomplish by
resolute perseverance? Several years of practice so confirmed the habit
that I found it as difficult to leave off as it was to begin. Even now I
often find myself tripping along on tip-toe before I am aware of it.
We had a very cruel abbess in the kitchen, and this was one reason of
our being punished so often. She was young and inexperienced, and had
just been promoted to office, with which she seemed much pleased and
elated. She embraced every opportunity to exercise her authority, and
often have I fasted two whole days for accidentally spilling a little
water on the kitchen floor. Whenever she wished to call my attention to
her, she did not content herself with simply speaking, but would box my
ears, pull my hair, pinch my arms, and in many ways so annoy and provoke
me that I often wished her dead. One day when I was cleaning knives and
forks she came up to me and gave me such a severe pinch on my arm that
I carried the marks for many days. I did not wait to think what I was
doing, but turned and struck her with all my might. It could not have
been a light blow, for I was very angry. She turned away, saying she
should report me to the Lady Superior. I did not answer her, but as she
passed through the door I threw a knife which I hoped would hit her, but
it struck the door as she closed it. I expected something dreadful would
be done to me after this wilful violation of a well known law. But I
could bear it, I thought, and I was glad I hit her so hard.
She soon returned with a young priest, who had been there but a short
time, and his heart had not yet become so hard as is necessary to be
a good Romish priest. He came to me and asked, "What is the matter?"
I told him the Abbess punished me every day, that in fact I was under
punishment most of the time; that I did not deserve it, and I was
resolved to bear it no longer. I struck her because she pinched me for
no good reason; and I should in future try to defend myself from her
cruelty.
"Do you know," said he, "what will be done to you for this?" "No, sir,"
said I, "I do not know," and I was about to add, "I do not care," but
I restrained myself. He went out, and for a long time I expected to be
called to account, but I heard no more of it. The Abbess, however, went
on in the old way, tormenting me on every occasion.
One day the priests had a quarrel among themselves, and if I had said a
DRUNKEN QUARREL, I do not think it would have been a very great mistake.
In the fray they stabbed one of their number in the side, drew him out
of his room, and left him on the floor in the hall of the main building,
but one flight of stairs above the kitchen. Two nuns, who did the
chamber work, came down stairs, and, seeing him lie there helpless and
forsaken, they took him by the hair of the head and drew him down to the
kitchen. Here they began to torment him in the most cruel manner. They
burned sticks in the fire until the end was a live coal, put them into
his hands and closed them, pressing the burning wood into the flesh, and
thus producing the most exquisite pain. At least this would have
been the result if he had realized their cruelty. But I think he was
insensible before they touched him, or if not, must have died very soon
after, for I am sure he was dead when I first saw him.
I went to them and remonstrated against such inhuman conduct. But one of
the nuns replied, "That man has tormented me more than I can him, if I
do my best, and I wish him to know how good it is." "But," said I, "some
one will come in, and you will be caught in the act." "I'll risk that,"
said she, "they are quarreling all over the house, and will have enough
to do to look after each other for a while, I assure you." "But the man
is dead," said I. "How can you treat a senseless corpse in that way?"
"I'm afraid he is dead," she replied, he don't move at all, and I can't
feel his heart beat; but I did hope to make him realize how good the
fire feels."
Meanwhile, the blood was flowing from the wound in his side, and ran
over the floor. The sight of this alarmed them, and they drew him into
another dark hall, and left him beside the door of a room used for
punishment. They then came back, locked the hall door, and washed up the
blood. They expected to be punished for moving the dead body, but the
floor was dry before any of the priests came in, and I do not think it
was ever known. Perhaps they did not remember events as distinctly as
they might under other circumstances, and it is very possible, that,
when they found the corpse they might not have been able to say whether
it was where they left it, or not. We all rejoiced over the death of
that priest. He was a very cruel man; had punished me times without
number, but, though I was glad he was dead, I could not have touched him
when he lay helpless and insensible.
A few weeks after the events just related, another trifling occurrence
brought me into collision with the Abbess. And here let me remark that
I have no way, by which to ascertain at what particular time certain
events transpired. The reader will understand that I write this
narrative from memory, and our life at the nunnery was so monotonous,
the days and weeks passed by with such dull, and irksome uniformity,
that sometimes our frequent punishments were the only memorable events
to break in upon the tiresome sameness of our unvarying life. Of course
the most simple thing was regarded by us as a great event, something
worthy of special notice, because, for the time, it diverted our minds
from the peculiar restraints of our disagreeable situation.
To illustrate this remark let me relate an incident that transpired
about this time. I was one day sent to a part of the house where I was
not in the habit of going. I was passing along a dark hall, when a ray
of light from an open door fell upon my path. I looked up, and as the
door at that moment swung wide open, I saw, before a glass, in a richly
furnished room, the most beautiful woman I ever beheld. From the purity
of her complexion, and the bright color of her cheeks and lips, I could
have taken her for a piece of wax work, but for the fact that she was
carelessly arranging her hair. She was tall, and elegant in person,
with a countenance of such rare and surpassing beauty, I involuntarily
exclaimed, "What a beautiful woman!" She turned towards me with a
smile of angelic sweetness, while an expression of sympathetic emotion
overspread her exquisitely moulded features, which seemed to say as
plainly as though she had spoken in words, "Poor child, I pity you."
I now became conscious that I was breaking the rules of the house, and
hastened away. But O, how many days my soul fed on that smile! I never
saw the lady again, her name I could never know, but that look of
tenderness will never be forgotten. It was something to think of through
many dreary hours, something to look back to, and be grateful for, all
the days of my life.
But to return to my narrative. The priests had a large quantity of sap
gathered from the maple trees, and brought to the nunnery to be boiled
into sugar. Another nun and myself were left to watch it, keep the
kettle filled up, and prevent it from burning. It was boiled in the
large caldron of which I have before spoken, and covered with a large,
thin, wooden cover. The sap had boiled some time, and become very thick.
I was employed in filling up the kettle when the Abbess came into the
room, and after a few inquiries, directed me to stand upon the cover of
the caldron, and fix a large hook directly over it. I objected, for I
know full well that it would not bear a fourth part of my weight. She
then took hold of me, and tried to force me to step upon it, but I knew
I should be burned to death, for the cover, on account of its enormous
size was made as thin as possible, that we might be able to lift it.
When I saw that she was determined to make me yield, in self defence,
I threw her upon the floor. Would that I had been content to stop
here. But no. When I saw her in my power, and remembered how much I
had suffered from her, my angry passions rose, and I thought only of
revenge.
I commenced beating her with all my might, and when I stopped from mere
exhaustion, the other nun caught her by the hair and began to draw
her round the room. She struggled and shrieked, but she could not help
herself. Her screams, however, alarmed the house, and hearing one of the
priests coming, the nun gave her a kick and left her. The priest
asked what we were doing, and the Abbess related with all possible
exaggeration, the story of our cruelty. "But what did you do to them?"
asked the priest "You gave them some provocation, or they never would
treat you so." She was then obliged to tell what had passed between us,
and he said she deserved to suffer for giving such an order. "Why," said
he, "that cover would not have held her a moment, and she would most
assuredly have burned to death." He punished us all; the Abbess for
giving the order, and us for abusing her. I should not have done this
thing, had I not come off so well, when I once before attempted to
defend myself; but my success at that time gave me courage to try it
again. My punishment was just, and I bore it very well, consoled by the
thought that justice was awarded to the Abbess, as well as myself.