Manufacture of Bread and Wax Candles carried on in the
Convent--Superstitions--Scapularies--Virgin Mary's pincushion--Her
House--The Bishop's power over fire--My Instructions to Novices--Jane
Ray--Vacillation of feelings.
Large quantities of bread are made in the Black Nunnery every week, for
besides what is necessary to feed the nuns, many of the poor are
supplied. When a priest wishes to give a loaf of bread to a poor
person, he gives him an order, which is presented at the Convent. The
making of bread is therefore one of the most laborious employments in
the Institution.
The manufacture of wax candles was another important branch of business
in the nunnery. It was carried on in a small room, on the first floor,
thence called the Ciergerie, or wax-room; _cierge_ being the French
word for a _wax candle_. I was sometimes sent to read the daily lecture
and catechism to the nuns employed there, but found it a very
unpleasant task, as the smell rising from the melted wax gave me a
sickness at the stomach. The employment was considered rather
unhealthy, and those were assigned to it who had the strongest
constitutions. The nuns who were more commonly employed in that room,
were Sainte Marie, Sainte Catharine, Sainte Charlotte, Sainte Francis,
Sainte Hyacinthe, Sainte Hypolite, and others. But with these, as with
other persons in the Convent, I was never allowed to speak, except
under circumstances before mentioned. I was sent to read, and was not
allowed even to answer the most trivial question, if one were asked me.
Should a nun say, "what o'clock is it?" I never should have dared to
reply, but was required to report her to the Superior.
Much stress was laid on the _sainte scapulaire_, or, holy scapulary.
This is a small band of cloth or silk, formed and wrought in a peculiar
manner, to be tied around the neck by two strings, fastened to the
ends. I have made many of them, having been sometimes set to make them
in the Convent. On one side is worked a kind of double cross, (thus,
XX) and on the other I. II. S., the meaning of which I do not exactly
know. Such a band is called a scapulary, and many miracles are
attributed to its power. Children on first receiving the communion are
often presented with scapularies, which they are taught to regard with
great reverence. We were told of the wonders effected by their means,
in the addresses made to us, by priests at catechism or lectures. I
will repeat one or two of the stories which occur to me.
A Roman Catholic servant woman, who had concealed some of her sins at
confession, acted so hypocritical a part as to make her mistress
believe her a _décote_, or a strict observer of her duty. She even
imposed upon her confessor, to such a degree, that he gave her a
scapulary. After he had given it, however, one of the saints in heaven
informed him in a vision, that the holy scapulary must not remain on
the neck of so great a sinner; and that it must be restored to the
church. She lay down that night with the scapulary round her throat,
but in the morning was found dead, with her head cut off, and the
scapulary was discovered in the church. The belief was, that the devil
could not endure to have so holy a thing on one of his servants, and
had pulled so hard to get it off, as to draw the silken thread with
which it was tied, through her neck; after which, by some divine power
it was restored to the church.
Another story was as follows. A poor Roman Catholic was once taken
prisoner by the heretics. He had a _sainte scapulaire_ on his neck,
when God seeing him in the midst of his foes, took it from his neck by
a miracle, and held it up in the air above the throng of heretics; more
than one hundred of whom were converted, by seeing it thus
supernaturally suspended.
I had been informed by the Superior, on my first admission as a nun,
that there was a subterraneous passage, leading from the cellar of our
Convent into that of the Congregational Nunnery; but, though I had so
often visited the cellar, I had never seen it. One day, after I had
been received three or four months, I was sent to walk through it upon
my knees with another nun, as a penance. This, and other penances, were
sometimes put upon us by the priests, without any reason assigned. The
common way, indeed, was to tell us of the sin for which a penance was
imposed, but we were left many times to conjecture. Now and then the
priests would inform us at a subsequent confession, when he happened to
recollect something about it, as I thought, and not because he
reflected, or cared much about the subject.
The nun who was with me led me through the cellar, passing to the right
of the secret burying place, and showed me the door of the
subterraneous passage, which was at the extremity towards the
Congregational Nunnery. The reasons why I had not noticed it before, I
presume, were that it was made to shut close and even with the wall,
and all that part of the cellar was whitewashed. The door, which is of
wood, and square, opens with a latch into a passage, about four feet
and a half high. We immediately got upon our knees, commenced saying
the prayers required, and began to move slowly along the dark and
narrow passage. It may be fifty or sixty feet in length; when we
reached the end, we opened a door, and found ourselves in the cellar of
the Congregational Nunnery, at some distance from the outer wall; for
the covered way is carried in towards the middle of the cellar by two
low partitions covered at the top. By the side of the door, was placed
a list of names of the Black nuns, with a slide, that might be drawn
over any of them. We covered our names in this manner, as evidence of
having performed the duty assigned us; and then returned backwards on
our knees, by the way we had come. This penance I repeatedly performed
afterwards; and by this way, as I have occasion elsewhere to mention,
nuns from the Congregational Nunnery, sometimes entered our Convent for
worse purposes.
We were frequently assured, that miracles are still performed; and
pains were taken to impress us deeply on this subject. The Superior
often spoke to us of the Virgin Mary's pincushion, the remains of which
it is pretended are preserved in the Convent, though it has crumbled
quite to dust. We regarded this relic with such veneration, that we
were afraid even to look at it, and we often heard the following story
related, when the subject was introduced.
A priest in Jerusalem once had a vision, in which he was informed that
the house in which the Virgin had lived, should be removed from its
foundations, and transported to a distance. He did not think the
communication was from God, and therefore disregarded it; but the house
was soon after missed, which convinced him that the vision was true,
and he told where the house might be found. A picture of the house is
preserved in the Nunnery, and was sometimes shown us. There are also
wax figures of Joseph sawing wood, and Jesus as a child, picking up the
chips. We were taught to sing a little song relating to this, the
chorus of which I remember.
"Saint Joseph charpentier,
Petit Jesus ramassait les copeaux
Pour fair bouillir la marmite."
St. Joseph was a carpenter, little Jesus collected chips to make the
pot boil.
I began to speak of miracles, and I recollect a story of one, about a
family in Italy saved from shipwreck by a priest, who were in
consequence converted and had two sons honoured with the priest's
office.
I had heard before I entered the Convent, about a great fire which
destroyed a number of houses in the Quebec suburbs, and which some said
the Bishop extinguished with holy water. I once heard a Catholic and a
Protestant disputing on this subject, and when I went to the
Congregational Nunnery, I sometimes heard the children, alluding to the
same story, say at an alarm of fire, "Is it a Catholic fire? Then why
does not the Bishop run?"
Among the topics on which the bishop addressed the nuns in the Convent
this was one. He told us the story one day, and said he could have
sooner interfered and stopped the flames, but that at last, finding
they were about to destroy too many Catholic houses, he threw holy
water on the fire, and extinguished it. I believed this, and also
thought that he was able to put out any fire, but that he never did it,
except when inspired.
The holy water which the Bishop had consecrated, was considered much
more efficacious, than any blessed by a common priest; and this it was
which was used in the Convent in sprinkling our beds. It had virtue in
it, to keep off any evil spirits.
Now that I was a nun, I was occasionally sent to read lectures to the
novices, as other nuns had been while I was a novice. There were but
few of us, who were thought capable of reading English well enough, and
therefore, I was more frequently sent than I might otherwise have been.
The Superior often said to me, as I was going among the novices:
"Try to convert them--save their souls--you know you will have a higher
place in heaven for every one you convert."
For whatever reason, Mad Jane Ray seemed to take great delight in
crossing and provoking the Superior and old nuns; and often she would
cause an interruption when it was most inconvenient and displeasing to
them. The preservation of silence was insisted upon most rigidly, and
penances of such a nature were imposed for breaking it, that it was a
constant source of uneasiness with me, to know that I might infringe
the rules in so many ways, and that inattention might at any moment
subject me to something very unpleasant. During the periods of
meditation, therefore, and those of lecture, work, and repose, I kept a
strict guard upon myself, to escape penances, as well as to avoid sin;
and the silence of the other nuns, convinced me that they were equally
watchful, and from the same motives.
My feelings, however, varied at different times, and so did those of
many, if not all my companions, excepting the older ones, who took
their turns in watching us. We sometimes felt disposed for gaiety, and
threw off all ideas that talking was sinful, even when forbidden by the
rules of the Convent. And even when I felt that I might perhaps be
doing wrong, I reflected that confession, and certainly penance, would
soon wipe off the guilt.
I may remark here, that I ere long found out several things, important
to be known, to a person living under such rules. One of these was,
that it was much better to confess to a priest, a sin committed against
the rules, because he would not require one of the penances I most
disliked, viz.: those which exposed of me to the observation of the
nuns, or which demanded self-debasement before them, like begging their
pardon, kissing the floor, or the Superior's feet, &c., and, besides,
he as a confessor was said to be bound to secrecy, and could not inform
the Superior against me. My conscience being as effectually unburthened
by my confession to the priest, as I had been taught to believe, I
therefore preferred not to tell my sins to any one else; and this
course I found was preferred by others for the same good reasons.
To Jane Ray, however, it sometimes appeared to be a matter of perfect
indifference, who knew her violations of rule, or to what penances she
exposed herself.
Often and often, while perfect silence prevailed among the nuns, at
meditation, or while nothing was to be heard except the voice of the
reader appointed for the day, no matter whose life or writings were
presented for our contemplations, Jane would break forth with some
remark or question, that would attract general attention, and often
cause a long and total interruption. Sometimes she would make some
harmless remark or inquiry aloud, as if through mere inadvertency, and
then her well-known voice, so strongly associated with every thing
singular and ridiculous, would arrest the attention of us all, and
generally incline us to smile, and even force us to laugh. The Superior
would then usually utter some hasty remonstrance, and many a time have
I heard her pronounce some penance upon her; but Jane had ever some
apology ready, or some reply calculated to irritate still farther, or
to prove to every one, that no punishment would be effectual on her.
Sometimes this singular woman would appear to be actuated by opposite
feelings and motives; for although she usually delighted in drawing
others into difficulty, and has thrown many a severe penance even upon
her greatest favourites; on other occasions she appeared totally
regardless of consequences herself, and preferred to take all the
blame, anxious only to shield others.
I have repeatedly known her to break silence in the community, as if
she had no object, or none beyond that of causing disturbance, or
exciting a smile, and as soon as it was noticed, exclaim: "Say it's me,
say it's me!"
Sometimes she would even expose herself to punishments in place of
another who was guilty; and thus I found it difficult fully to
understand her. In some cases she seemed decidedly out of her wits, as
the Superior and priests commonly preferred to represent her; but
generally I saw in her what prevented me from accounting her insane.
Among her most common tricks were such as these: She gave me the name
of the "Devout English Reader," because I was often appointed to make
the lecture to the English girls; and sometimes, after taking a seat
near me, under pretence of deafness, would whisper it in my hearing,
because she knew my want of self-command when excited to laughter. Thus
she often exposed me to penances for a breach of decorum, and set me to
biting my lips, to avoid laughing outright in the midst of a solemn
lecture. "Oh! you devout English Reader!" would sometimes come upon me
suddenly from her lips, with something in it so ludicrous that I had to
exert myself to the utmost to avoid observation.
This came so often at one time, that I grew uneasy, and told her I must
confess it, to unburden my conscience; I had not done so before,
because she would complain of me, for giving way to temptation.
Sometimes she would pass behind us as we stood at dinner ready to sit
down, and softly moving back our chairs, leave us to fall down upon the
floor. This she repeatedly has done; and While we were laughing
together, she would spring forward, kneel to the Superior, and beg her
pardon and a penance.