More visits to the imprisoned Nuns--Their fears--Others temporarily put
into the Cells--Reliques--The Agnus Dei--The Priests' private Hospital,
or Holy Retreat--Secret Rooms in the Eastern Wing--Reports of Murders
in the Convent--The Superior's private Records--Number of Nuns in the
Convent--Desire of Escape--Urgent reason for
it--Plan--Deliberation--Attempt--Success.
I often seized an opportunity, when I safely could, to speak a cheering
or friendly word to one of the poor prisoners, in passing their cells,
on my errands in the cellars. For a time I supposed them to be sisters;
but I afterward discovered that this was not the case. I found that
they were always under the fear of suffering some punishment, in case
they should be found talking with a person not commissioned to attend
them. They would often ask, "Is not somebody coming?"
I could easily believe what I heard affirmed by others, that fear was
the severest of their sufferings. Confined in the dark, in so gloomy a
place, with the long and spacious arched cellar stretching off this way
and that, visited now and then by a solitary nun, with whom they were
afraid to speak their feelings, and with only the miserable society of
each other; how gloomy thus to spend day after day, months, and even
years, without any prospect of liberation, and liable every moment to
any other fate to which the Bishop or Superior might condemn them! But
these poor creatures must have known something of the horrors
perpetrated in other parts of the building, and could not have been
ignorant of the hole in the cellar, which was not far from their cells,
and the use to which it was devoted. One of them told me, in
confidence, she wished they could get out. They must also have been
often disturbed in their sleep, if they ever did sleep, by the numerous
priests who passed through the trapdoor at no great distance. To be
subject to such trials for a single day would be dreadful; but these
nuns had them to endure for years.
I often felt much compassion for them, and wished to see them released;
but at other times, yielding to the doctrine perpetually taught us in
the Convent, that our future happiness would be proportioned to the
sufferings we had to undergo in this world, I would rest satisfied that
their imprisonment was a real blessing to them. Others, I presume,
participated with me in such feelings. One Sunday afternoon, after we
had performed all our ceremonies, and were engaged as usual, at that
time, with backgammon and other amusements, one of the young nuns
exclaimed, "Oh, how headstrong are those wretches in the cells--they
are as bad as the day they were first put in!"
This exclamation was made, as I supposed, in consequence of some recent
conversation with them, as I knew her to be particularly acquainted
with the older one.
Some of the vacant cells were occasionally used for temporary
imprisonment. Three nuns were confined in them, to my knowledge, for
disobedience to the Superior, as she called it. They did not join the
rest in singing in the evening, being exhausted by the various
exertions of the day. The Superior ordered them to sing, and as they
did not comply, after her command had been twice repeated, she ordered
them away to the cells.
They were immediately taken down into the cellar, placed in separate
dungeons, and the doors shut and barred upon them. There they remained
through that night, the following day, and second night, but were
released in time to attend mass on the second morning.
The Superior used occasionally to show something in a glass box, which
we were required to regard with the highest degree of reverence. It was
made of wax, and called an Agnus Dei. She used to exhibit it to us when
we were in a state of grace; that is, after confession and before
sacrament. She said it had been blessed _in the very dish in which our
Saviour had eaten_. It was brought from Rome. Every time we kissed it,
or even looked at it, we were told it gave a hundred days release from
purgatory to ourselves, or if we did not need it, to our next of kin in
purgatory, if not a Protestant. If we had no such kinsman, the benefit
was to go to the souls in purgatory not prayed for.
Jane Ray would sometimes say to me, "Let's kiss it--some of our friends
will thank us for it."
I have been repeatedly employed in carrying dainties of different kinds
to the little private room I have mentioned, next beyond the Superior's
sitting-room, in the second story, which the priests made their "_Holy
Retreat_." That room I never was allowed to enter. I could only go to
the door with a waiter of refreshments, set it down upon a little stand
near it, give three raps on the door, and then retire to a distance to
await orders. When any thing was to be taken away, it was placed on the
stand by the Superior, who then gave three raps for me, and closed the
door.
The Bishop I saw at least once when he appeared worse for wine, or
something of the kind. After partaking of some refreshments in the
Convent, he sent for all the nuns, and, on our appearance, gave us his
blessing, and put a piece of poundcake on the shoulder of each of us,
in a manner which appeared singular and foolish.
There are three rooms in the Black Nunnery which I never entered. I had
enjoyed much liberty, and had seen, as I supposed, all parts of the
building, when one day I observed an old nun go to a corner of an
apartment near the northern end of the western wing, push the end of
her scissors into a crack in the panelled wall, and pull out a door. I
was much surprised, because I had never conjectured that any door was
there; and it appeared when I afterward examined the place, that no
indication of it could be discovered on the closest scrutiny. I stepped
forward to see what was within, and saw three rooms opening into each
other; but the nun refused to admit me within the door, which she said
led to rooms kept as depositories.
She herself entered and closed the door, so that I could not satisfy my
curiosity; and no occasion presented itself. I always had a strong
desire to know the use of these apartments: for I am sure they must
have been designed for some purpose of which I was intentionally kept
ignorant, otherwise they would never have remained unknown to me so
long. Besides, the old nun evidently had some strong reasons for
denying me admission, though she endeavoured to quiet my curiosity.
The Superior, after my admission into the Convent, had told me that I
had access to every room in the building; and I had seen places which
bore witness to the cruelties and the crimes committed under her
commands or sanction; but here was a succession of rooms which had been
concealed from me, and so constructed as if designed to be unknown to
all but a few. I am sure that any person, who might be able to examine
the wall in that place, would pronounce that secret door a surprising
piece of work. I never saw any thing of the kind which appeared to me
so ingenious and skilfully made. I told Jane Ray what I had seen, and
she said, at once, "We will get in and see what is in there." But I
suppose she never found an opportunity.
I naturally felt a good deal of curiosity to learn whether such scenes,
as I had witnessed in the death of Saint Francis, were common or rare,
and took an opportunity to inquire of Jane Ray. Her reply was--
"Oh, yes; and there were many murdered while you was a novice, whom you
heard nothing about."
This was all I ever learnt on the subject; but although I was told
nothing of the manner in which they were killed, I supposed it to be
the same which I had seen practised, viz. by smothering.
I went into the Superior's parlour one day for something, and found
Jane Ray there alone, looking into a book with an appearance of
interest. I asked her what it was, but she made some trifling answer,
and laid it by, as if unwilling to let me take it. There are two
bookcases in the room; one on the right as you enter the door, and the
other opposite, near the window and sofa. The former contains the
lecture-books and other printed volumes, the latter seemed to be filled
with note and account books. I have often seen the keys in the
bookcases while I have been dusting the furniture, and sometimes
observed letters stuck up in the room; although I never looked into
one, or thought of doing so, as we were under strict orders not to
touch any of them, and the idea of sins and penances was always present
with me.
Some time after the occasion mentioned, I was sent into the Superior's
room, with Jane, to arrange it; and as the same book was lying out of
the case, she said "Come, let us look into it." I immediately
consented, and we opened it, and turned over several leaves. It was
about a foot and a half long, as nearly as I can remember, a foot wide,
and about two inches thick, though I cannot speak with particular
precision, as Jane frightened me almost as soon as I touched it, by
exclaiming, "There you have looked into it, and if you tell of me, I
will of you."
The thought of being subjected to a severe penance, which I had reason
to apprehend, fluttered me very much; and although I tried to overcome
my fears, I did not succeed very well. I reflected, however, that the
sin was already committed, and that it would not be increased if I
examined the book. I, therefore, looked a little at several pages,
though I still felt a good deal of agitation. I saw, at once, that the
volume was the record of the entrance of nuns and novices into the
Convent, and of the births that had taken place in the Convent. Entries
of the last description were made in a brief manner, on the following
plan: I do not give the names or dates as real, but only to show the
form of entering them.
Saint Mary delivered of a son, March 16,1834.
Saint Clarice "daughter, April 2,"
Saint Matilda "daughter, April, 80,"
No mention was made in the book of the death of the children, though I
well knew not one of them could be living at that time. Now I presume
that the period the book embraced, was about two years, as several
names near the beginning I knew; but I can form only a rough conjecture
of the number of infants born, and murdered of course, records of which
it contained. I suppose the book contained at least one hundred pages,
that one fourth were written upon, and that each page contained fifteen
distinct records. Several pages were devoted to the list of births. On
this supposition there must have been a large number, which I can
easily believe to have been born there in the course of two years.
What were the contents of the other books belonging to the same case
with that which I looked into, I have no idea, having never dared to
touch one of them; I believe, however, that Jane Ray was well
acquainted with them, knowing, as I do, her intelligence and prying
disposition. If she could be brought to give her testimony, she would
doubtless unfold many curious particulars now unknown.
I am able, in consequence of a circumstance which appeared accidental,
to state with confidence the exact number of persons in the Convent one
day of the week in which I left it. This may be a point of some
interest, as several secret deaths had occurred since my taking the
veil, and many burials had been openly made in the chapel.
I was appointed, at the time mentioned, to lay out the covers for all
the inmates of the Convent, including the nuns in the cells. These
covers, as I have said before, were linen bands, to be bound around the
knives, forks, spoons, and napkins, for eating. These were for all the
nuns and novices, and amounted to two hundred and ten. As the number of
novices was then about thirty, I know that there must have been at that
time about one hundred and eighty veiled nuns.
I was occasionally troubled with a desire of escaping from the nunnery,
and was much distressed whenever I felt so evil an imagination rise in
my mind. I believed that it was a sin, and did not fail to confess at
every opportunity, that I felt discontent. My confessors informed me
that I was beset by an evil spirit, and urged me to pray against it.
Still, however, every now and then, I would think, "Oh, if I could get
out!"
At length one of the priests, to whom I had confessed this sin,
informed me, for my comfort, that he had begun to pray to Saint
Anthony, and hoped his intercession would, by-and-by, drive away the
evil spirit. My desire of escape was partly excited by the fear of
bringing an infant to the murderous hands of my companions, or of
taking a potion whose violent effects I too well knew.
One evening, however, I found myself more filled with the desire of
escape than ever; and what exertions I made to dismiss the thought,
proved entirely unavailing. During evening prayers, I became quite
occupied with it; and when the time for meditation arrived, instead of
falling into a doze as I often did, although I was a good deal
fatigued, I found no difficulty in keeping awake. When this exercise
was over, and the other nuns were about to retire to the sleeping-room,
my station being in the private sickroom for the night, I withdrew to
my post, which was the little sitting-room adjoining it.
Here, then, I threw myself upon the sofa, and, being alone, reflected a
few moments on the manner of escaping which had occurred to me. The
physician had arrived a little before, at half-past eight; and I had
now to accompany him, as usual, from bed to bed, with pen, ink, and
paper, to write down his prescriptions for the direction of the old
nun, who was to see them administered. What I wrote that evening, I
cannot now recollect, as my mind was uncommonly agitated; but my
customary way was to note down briefly his orders in this manner:
1 d salts, St. Matilde.
1 blister, St. Geneviere, &c. &c.
I remember that I wrote three such orders that evening, and then,
having finished the rounds, I returned for a few minutes to the
sitting-room.
There were two ways of access to the street from those rooms: first,
the more direct, from the passage adjoining the sick-room, down stairs,
through a door, into the nunnery-yard, and through a wicket-gate; that
is the way by which the physician usually enters at night, and he is
provided with a key for that purpose.
It would have been unsafe, however, for me to pass out that way,
because a man is kept continually in the yard, near the gate, who
sleeps at night in a small hut near the door, to escape whose
observation would be impossible. My only hope, therefore, was, that I
might gain my passage through the other way, to do which I must pass
through the sick-room, then through a passage, or small room, usually
occupied by an old nun; another passage and staircase leading down to
the yard, and a large gate opening into the cross street. I had no
liberty ever to go beyond the sick-room, and knew that several of the
doors might be fastened. Still, I determined to try; although I have
often since been astonished at my boldness in undertaking what would
expose me to so many hazards of failure, and to severe punishment if
found out.
It seemed as if I acted under some extraordinary impulse, which
encouraged me to do what I should hardly at any other moment have
thought of undertaking. I had sat but a short time upon the sofa,
however, before I rose, with a desperate determination to make the
experiment. I therefore walked hastily across the sick-room, passed
into the nun's room, walked by her in a great hurry, and almost without
giving her time to speak or think, said--"A message!" and in an instant
was through the door and in the next passage. I think there was another
nun with her at the moment; and it is probable that my hurried manner,
and prompt intimation that I was sent on a pressing mission, to the
Superior, prevented them from entertaining any suspicion of my
intention. Besides, I had the written orders of the physician in my
hand, which may have tended to mislead them; and it was well known to
some of the nuns, that I had twice left the Convent and returned from
choice; so that I was probably more likely to be trusted to remain than
many of the others.
The passage which I had now reached had several doors, with all which I
was acquainted; that on the opposite side opened into a community-room,
where I should probably have found some of the old inns at that hour,
and they would certainly have stopped me. On the left, however, was a
large door, both locked and barred; but I gave the door a sudden swing,
that it might creak as little as possible, being of iron. Down the
stairs I hurried, and making my way through the door into the yard,
stepped across it unbarred the great gate, and was at liberty!