MY TRIP TO THE GENERAL MOTHER HOUSE
The sisters of the order to which I belonged were given a visit to the
Mother House in Montreal, Canada, once during their sisterhood life,
providing they could outlive their turn, as the older sisters came
first. This was a great privilege for the sisters, an opportunity to
drink deep in their souls the spirit of "holiness" emanating from the
saintly sisters who had been spiritually formed and perfected in
conventual practices--the Mother Foundresses of the Order.
I will now tell you how I received this privilege.
* * * * *
My father died in 1896, and when his estate was settled I received
$500.00 in cash. It was understood long before this between the sisters
and myself that when he died, if I would receive anything from him, I
would pay my dowry of $300.00 to the community. Out of the $500.00 I
received from him, I paid my promised $300.00 to the community, and
placed the remaining $200.00 on deposit at St. Vincent's Hospital for
safe keeping, as I had promised it to the Abbott of Mt. Angel College
for the education of a nephew of mine.
While this money was on deposit at the hospital, the Superior General,
Mother Antoinette, tried to induce me to take my trip to the Mother
House. There were several sisters who wanted the office I filled at that
time, superintendent of the third floor, and they also thought it was a
good time for me to go on this trip. I could see that it was the $200.00
and my office they were after, so I refused to take the trip at that
time.
A few years later, 1907, Sister Rita and myself decided it was then time
for us to go to the Mother House, so we began to plan in order that we
would not be refused when we asked permission of the Superior General,
Mother Antoinette.
Sister Rita had been at the hospital all the years I had been there, and
we had become very friendly and chummy--that is, as friendly and chummy
as sisters can be. We had agreed not to make trouble for each other by
telling tales to the superior, and this agreement made it possible for
us to come together on some common, sisterly interests with just a
little less suspicion. So, on account of this friendly feeling, and
because we could talk on a few subjects other than the _Sainte Vierge_
and miraculous medals, we were determined to take the trip together.
We made our desire known to one of the leading doctors of St. Vincent's
Hospital, whose name I purposely withhold, and he promised to see the
officials of the transportation companies, and arrange, if possible, for
our transportation. He returned with a very favorable report, and then
we asked Mother Antoinette for the permission to go to Montreal, which
was granted. Our doctor friend told us that we should visit New York
while in the East, and asked us if we would go if he would get
transportation. We told him we certainly would if we could get the
consent of the Superior General. He informed us a little later that
arrangements had been made for the trip to New York. He then suggested
that we should return by way of the South, but we feared that we could
not get the consent of the officer of the order. Mother Antoinette did
not care about giving us the permission to take the trip to New York and
through the South, but she knew that the transportation had been
arranged, and that Sister Rita and myself were popular with the patients
and doctors at the hospital, so she consented, fearing that if she did
otherwise it would injure the interests of the institution with the
business people and doctors of Portland, who were our friends.
As soon as our many friends learned of our plans to go East, they very
readily came to our rescue with money for our berths, meals and other
expenses while stopping at the various cities we expected to visit. One
very good friend of Sister Rita's gave her a check of $200.00. She also
had some money from her relatives and friends. I had received some money
from relatives and from my friends, and this, together with some "Johnny
Morgan" money made several hundred dollars we had between us. I had
heard of sisters taking trips East with the so-called "Johnny Morgan"
money, and I had also seen one of the superiors of St. Vincent's, Sister
Frederick, send presents which had been given to me and been turned over
to her by me as our rule prescribes, to her people in Canada, so I
decided to use my "Johnny Morgan" teaching now, and I found it very
handy. A nurse friend who had trained at St. Vincent's presented each of
us with a very fine Japanese suitcase, so we were well equipped for our
journey.
I had been sick for a long time before this, several times sick enough
to die, and Sister Rita told me that she was almost afraid to go with me
for fear that she would have to bury me on the way. I told her not to
worry about me; that if I died to see that I was put under ground, and
say, "Good-bye, Lucretia," and go on with the journey.
On the evening of June third, 1907, we were prepared to start and were
met by a few friends at the Union Depot, who presented us with dainty
lunch baskets with enough good things to eat until we arrived at
Chicago, our first stop.
We were met at Chicago by some of my relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Gorman, who
entertained us during our stay of ten days. I had a relative in the
Notre Dame Convent, whom I visited while there. Her sister, a married
woman, asked me if I could do anything for her sister's (the nun)
sickness, which I found to be nervousness. I told her the best thing to
do for her was to take her out of the convent and let her live like
other people live.
The next stop was the Mother House, Montreal, Canada. This building was
an immense, dark stone structure, six stories in height, a sure enough
penitentiary-looking Roman fortification. The walls of this enormous
building encloses a large novitiate, which has about one hundred novices
most of the time; large dormitories for the sisters, some of them fitted
to accommodate forty, and dark except when lighted by artificial light;
a printing plant operated by the sisters, used to print the books and
other literature for the many houses of the order; sewing rooms, where
clothes are made for the novices in the novitiate and other inmates of
the Mother House; a department where the sisters make slippers for the
inmates of the house; a chapel, community room, large kitchens,
dining-rooms for the chaplain and sisters, bakeries, an infirmary and
operating room, and in fact a department for nearly everything used for
the sisters in this institution.
[Illustration: _Head Mother House of the Sisters of Charity of
Providence, Montreal, Canada._]
Most of the professed sisters at this house are those who have passed
their years of usefulness in the work done by the order, such as
hospital work, teaching, orphanage, etc., or are sickly sisters who
cannot do the outside work. There are always several hundred sisters at
the Mother House sent from the numerous houses of the order from all
over the country, many of which pass their few remaining years in
solitude.
There are about six sisters who attend to the business of this house,
which is the head of all the different houses of this particular order,
and all reports must be made to the head sister, who is called the
Mother General.
During our visit there, we were accompanied by two of the holy Maison
Mere (Mother House) nuns to an iron vault, to gaze upon and venerate the
fleshy heart of the Bishop Founder of the order, Monseigneur Ignase
Bourget, which was there preserved in about two quarts of alcohol. We
were told by the accompanying sisters that every year on Monseigneur
Bourget's feast day, this heart turned to its natural blood-color.
This Bishop was the Christ representative who said to the five foundress
sisters who first came to the Northwest to build prison convents here:
"Go, my daughters! Fear nothing--I send you in the name of the Sovereign
Pontiff. Multiply yourselves to the greater glory of God." (Nov. 1st,
1856.)
We also had the privilege and honor of joining in a novena prayer for
the cure of a crippled girl. This novena was offered to Mother Gamelin,
a sister foundress of the order, who had been dead since September 23d,
1851, and who was now working miracles which was a final test to prove
she was worthy of canonization by the Mother Church. It being time for
our annual retreat, we were obliged to listen to eight days of French
preaching, confession, prayer and silence in the Mother House.
A large portion of the city of Montreal is now in the hands of the Roman
Catholic system--churches, convents, parochial schools or other Roman
institutions facing the streets every few blocks. These portions of the
city are inhabited by the French Canadians mostly, and as a general
thing they have very large families and are poor, almost to a degree of
poverty. The church bleeds them of their scanty earnings, then in the
winter open soup houses in the name of Charity. One of the sisters at
the Mother House told me that she had seen some of these people walk in
their bare feet in the snow to some of these "charitable soup houses" to
partake of the little bowl of soup that body and soul might be kept
together.
The children in these families are nearly all raised in the parochial
schools and churches and know nothing but the Romish teaching and that
is the reason there are so many French Canadian priests and sisters. The
home and family life of the people are so closely related to monastic
life that it cannot be called taking a step in life when the boys and
girls enter the convent, it is just continuing from babyhood to the end
of life in the drudgery of the nunneries.
While at the Mother House, I was told that the French Canadian people
were fast loosing their faith and becoming infidels, leading a life of
worldliness and degradation. Who is to blame for this condition? Surely
not the poor people who have been priest-ridden all these years. It is
just the same story you hear of every country where Rome has had the
control for any length of time.
We visited the Hotel Dieu Nunnery where Maria Monk had her terrible
experiences as a black nun. The interior of this convent indicated the
truth of her description in her book. In the hospital part there were a
few rooms for patients, but principally wards--the beds having curtains
around them. We witnessed a doctor making his daily sick visit. He was
accompanied by sisters all in black, except a bit of the face and hands.
These sisters would handle the medicine and dressings which were kept in
a cabinetlike table, with nothing to protect them from the dust but a
curtain around the table. On top of these tables were oratories, such as
we had in the chapels, containing flowers, statues, holy water
fountains, etc. I asked what these oratories were for and was told they
were for the sick to pray to for their cures.
When we were ready to leave this institution, I asked the sister that
accompanied us through, if she would come to the gate with us. She came
to the threshold of the door and stopped and said that the sisters were
not allowed to pass the door without special dispensation from the
Archbishop.
In another Black Nunnery Convent we visited there was a large ward,
probably one hundred feet long and sixty feet wide, filled with small,
low beds, for the accommodation of babies and children. I saw probably
forty or fifty children not older than six years. I asked the sister if
the sisters there were allowed to take care of babies of that age, for I
knew the sisters in my community were _not_, and she told me that they
were not; that they had nurse-girls to take care of them and that there
was a sister appointed to oversee the work.
We were taken to the basement of this institution and saw the private
burial places of the "holy" Mother Foundress of the order and several
other sisters particularly distinguished for great sanctity and
"supernaturally gifted" while living, as we were told. These burial
places were marked by a small, narrow board at one end, and a small
wooden cross, about a foot high at the other. The fourteen stations of
the cross were erected along the walls that surrounded this burial
ground. Special indulgences and blessings were supposed to come to
anyone praying in this "holy" place. We were also told that anything
that was placed on the grave of the holy Mother, and remained there for
some time, became holy, and that if these articles were kept and
venerated, the holy person or saint would be the means of special
blessings to us. I was given a small sprig of a flower made "holy" in
this manner, and Sister Rita and myself had a laugh over it. When I
reached the street, I discarded this holy relic.
We spent four days visiting the Longue Pointe Insane Asylum near
Montreal. This asylum included seven magnificent stone buildings, and
had four hundred and twenty acres of ground. At the time we were
visiting, there were two thousand inmates and two hundred sisters who
attended the sick. There were also a large number of uniformed men to
guard and attend the male patients. We were told that the institution
belonged to the government, but had been turned over to the Sisters of
Charity of Providence who had the sole supervision of it. A great many
sisters of the order I belonged to, and other orders as well, who became
drunkards and with other ailments, as well as being insane, are sent to
this institution from all over the United States and Canada.
I will give you an example of how some of the sisters go to this
institution. A sister I knew very well at Vancouver, Washington, after
an eight-days' retreat, was found in a closet by another sister,
"sawing" on her neck with a common, ordinary butcher-knife, and had
almost succeeded in putting an end to her troubles. When asked what she
was doing she just said, "Hell here or Hell hereafter, what is the
difference?" and kept on "sawing." Three older sisters sewed and
bandaged the wound and as soon as she had recovered sufficiently to
travel, was sent to this asylum at Longue Pointe. And this sister was
_not_ insane but was sick and needed a doctor and medicine, but in order
to kill the scandal, she was sent away so it would be forgotten.
We availed ourselves of the opportunity and went on a pilgrimage to St.
Anne de Beaupre, Quebec, about one hundred and sixty miles from Montreal
on the St. Lawrence River. There were about seven hundred people on the
steamer chartered for this pilgrimage. The steamer was equipped with
counters laden with small statues, pictures, rosaries, images magnified
and encased in pen-holders, lockets and other cheap trinkets for the
passengers to purchase as souvenirs. After buying them we would take
them to the priest and have them blessed. About every two hours during
the entire pilgrimage, we were assembled by order of the priest and made
to say the rosary and other prayers.
At eleven o'clock at night we arrived at Cape Holy Sacrament. Here we
were all requested to go ashore and assemble in the church for a special
benediction. Each passenger was required to purchase a candle, just a
simple tallow candle, for which was charged fifteen cents. When we were
assembled in the church the priest blessed these candles with some Latin
prayers, and then turned his back to us for about twenty minutes for
some more Latin prayers. After this "holy" benediction, which very few,
if any of us, understood, we returned to the boat and continued our
journey.
We arrived at the village of St. Anne de Beaupre about seven o'clock in
the morning and went direct to the wonderful basilica of St. Anne de
Beaupre, where we heard mass and received the consecrated wafter-god
before we could have any breakfast.
This basilica is a magnificent temple, probably six stories in height,
with two high spires, and wonderful chiming bells. In the interior there
is a large costly decorated altar, and above this on either side are
other altars. On either side of the main auditorium are rows of
installed chapels, ten on each side, making twenty in all. Each of these
chapels has its own altar and is dedicated to some saint and contains a
life-size statue of that special saint.
The statue of St. Anne which works the "miraculous cures" is located
about the centre of the basilica. It is about twice the size of a man,
and standing on an onyx pillar about four feet high. The open hands are
extended a little from the body, and from them stream rays of gold,
representing the great richness of St. Anne's dispensing power. It is to
this statue that hundreds of sufferers from all parts of Canada and this
country travel every year in search of a cure for their infirmities.
There were on exhibition hundreds and hundreds of crutches, canes,
sticks and supports for all kinds of infirmities hung on the walls in
the back of the church and on two immense pillars. These were supposed
to have been left there by people who had been cured by this wonderful
statue of St. Anne. Then upon believing themselves cured of their
ailment or infirmity they would pay whatever sum of money they could
afford, and that is the reason for such a magnificent institution in
this small village.
On an elevation near the church was a small building called the holy
Sanctum. Leading to this building were twelve steps, which, in order to
reach the entrance of the building, we had to ascend on our knees. The
images and statues in this building were most beautiful to
behold--costly shrines, life-sized statues of some of the martyred
saints, and our Lord, as represented in the tomb. The fourteen stations
of the cross were engraved in fine art on the walls, magnificent
paintings on the ceiling, such as the Angelical Salutation of the Virgin
Mary, and other views emblematic of religion. These things were all very
interesting to look upon, but the more I tried to pray and convince
myself in my heart that this show was religion, the more I found myself
losing what little belief I then had.
On leaving this holy Sanctum, we passed a spring which had been tapped
to make a fountain. This was known as St. Anne's fountain, and the water
was supposed to possess great curative qualities. I could not believe in
all this sort of "holy rot," it was getting too strong for me, but
Sister Rita took a small bottle of the water which she carried
throughout the remainder of the trip.
Next we looked in the basement of the church, which was fitted up very
much like the basements of our large department stores, where all kinds
of "holy" articles were for sale, everything from expensive statues and
priest's vestments to hundreds of devotional and superstitious trinkets
of the Romish belief.
There were thousands of people from the surrounding country at this
village that day, as it was one of the periodical pilgrimages to the St.
Anne Basilica.
Returning to Montreal we witnessed the grand processional parade of the
French Canadian people celebrating their National holiday, the Feast of
St. John the Baptist. This celebration, instead of being a civil affair,
seemed to be more of an ecclesiastical show, with all the various
societies and clubs of the church parading in all the pomp and
glittering raiment characteristic of the Church of Rome. It seemed to me
that it was more for the aggrandizement of the church than for the
kindling of patriotism in the hearts of the citizens.
In Quebec, Joliette, and other cities and towns, we could neither see
nor hear anything of interest except the greatness of the rich churches,
the halls and pavilions for the celebration of festival and saint's days
and nunneries, and to admire the self-sacrificing spirit of the French
Canadian people for the Romish superstition. Of course, the beauties of
nature were very grand at that time of the year, and we enjoyed it to a
certain extent, as much probably, as a sister could.
Thus seven weeks were spent in Canada and we both rejoiced in shaking
off the feeling of morbid depression of Romish domination even though
the trip was supposed to be one of pleasure.
In returning to the States, at St. Albans, on the state line, the
trainman announced "twenty minutes for lunch." Sister Rita and myself
hurriedly ordered some clam-chowder. In a few minutes it was served, and
we had just begun to eat it, when we heard "all aboard." We had a
forty-cent laugh, minus the stew, and a run for the train.
We stopped at Burlington, Vermont, at Niagara Falls, Buffalo, Albany,
New York City, Philadelphia, and Atlantic City. At Atlantic City,
Sister Rita took sick, so we went to Washington, D. C., to the
Providence Hospital which was conducted by the Sisters of Charity
whose Mother House was still in France.
In two weeks Sister Rita had sufficiently recovered to continue our
trip. We were determined to see what was dearest to our hearts in all
this trip--Washington's Tomb. We went as close as we could to the tomb,
knelt down and touched the cement floor inside the vault with our hands,
in feeling of gratitude for liberty to our country, even though we were
bound to the government of the Pope of Rome. For just after our visit to
priest-ridden Montreal, we were surely thankful for the liberty enjoyed
in this country, and we could see that it was this liberty that saved us
from a greater hell on earth than we were living.
We visited Washington's Monument, the Soldiers Home, the White House,
the Capitol Building and various other administration and government
buildings.
Our respects were paid to St. Peter's Cathedral, which has become famous
for the Pan-American Mass held every Thanksgiving Day, and which has
been attended by several of our late Presidents.
Near the city, we visited a new monastery which was inhabited by French
Monks. The most interesting part of this place was that portion under
the main building where the basement ordinarily would have been. There
was a long, narrow zig-zag tunnel, or passage, about six feet wide and
probably seven or eight feet high. We were escorted through about one
hundred feet of this tunnel and then the accompanying Monk told us that
the remainder of it had not been finished, so we returned. Along the
sides of this tunnel were niches, in which were placed statues, which
were visible only by the aid of small burning tapers. In fact, most of
the tunnel was so dark that we were unable to find our way without the
aid of a light carried by the Monk. It was a crude, "spooky-looking"
place, and both Sister Rita and myself gave a sigh of relief when we
were once again in the light of day and on top of God's green
foot-stool.
We were informed by the priest that these tunnels were to commemorate
the Catacombs of Rome at the time of the early Christians.
We went to Baltimore, then crossed the Chesapeake Bay to Norfolk,
Virginia, where we visited the Jamestown Exposition. The wonderful
exhibits at this exposition, the historic and other interesting places
visited while there, were a revelation of the achievements and
advancements of this great country, and the acquisition of much
historical enlightenment. We knew we were acquiring much knowledge
forbidden by the Pope of Rome, but we were greatly pleased to think that
we were defeating this self-styled ruler of heaven, earth and hell.
From Norfolk we went to New Orleans. For miles the streets of this large
city were lined with little, antiquated, unkept homes, many of which
seemed to be falling in ruin. The question came to my mind, "Why do
these people not advance?" The answer was very apparent when we saw the
strangle-hold the Roman Church had on them, and how they had built
immense churches, monasteries and convents for the glorification and
fat-living of the ecclesiastical gods. We visited the Jesuit church,
which was a structure magnificent and beautiful to behold--with its
altars and ornamentations of bronze. At that time this church was
considered one of the most costly in America.
During our stay in New Orleans, we stopped at the convent of the
Dominican Sisters. In conversing with some of these sisters, we learned
how they recruited their ranks. Some of the most trust-worthy sisters
would be sent to Ireland to talk the poor Irish girls into coming to
this country and living good, pure, holy lives as sisters. We were also
told that as a rule, these girls died very young, and generally of
consumption. We saw some of them, and they surely looked like caged
birds, sorry and discontented, home-sick and care-worn. Previous to
this, feelers had been placed before the sisters in my community to see
what sisters were willing to go to Europe to get recruits for the
Sisters of Charity of Providence, and when I saw these girls, once, no
doubt, rosy cheeked and beautiful, but now pale and care-worn from the
unnatural, caged life they were living, I made a vow that I would never
be the means of enticing any foreigners to leave their homes to become
slaves for the Roman Hierarchy.
When we were in Burlington, Vermont, a sister-member of the same order I
belonged to, asked me to visit a relative sister of hers in the Ursuline
Convent in New Orleans. On the twelfth day of September, 1907, we
visited this convent--a monstrous prison-looking institution, about five
hundred feet long. Within the entrance there was a hall along the outer
wall and on the other side of the hall there were a number of small
rooms, or "stalls," about eight by ten feet in size. These stalls were
separated from the hall by iron bars, about one-half inch in diameter,
running from the floor to the ceiling, about two inches apart. I asked
to see the sister by name, and when she came we had to talk to her from
the other side of these bars. She extended her hand through the bars to
shake hands, and we kissed her the best we could with that barrier
between us. This was a cloistered order, and yet there was a parochial
school within the enclosure. The children's parents and other visitors
were only permitted to see the children or sisters as we had seen this
sister. About five feet from the floor, in the center of the grating of
each of these stalls, was a little door about fifteen inches square,
with a padlock on the inside. We were told these were used for articles
brought there that were too large to pass between the bars.
We visited some of the large plantations for which the South is famous,
seeing the cotton plants in all their different stages, from the
flowering to the picking of the cotton.
Returning to the Pacific Coast we came by the southern route, through
Texas, Arizona and California. We stopped a few hours in Los Angeles,
and about ten days at San Francisco and Oakland. From Oakland we visited
Stanford University, which was still very much demolished from the
earthquake nearly eighteen months before.
We arrived home--at St. Vincent's Hospital, Portland--on September
thirtieth, after an absence of nearly four months, and I wish to impress
upon you that in all our travels we did not receive one cent from our
order--and they never once offered us any money to pay any of our
expenses or showed us any sisterly solicitude.