Awful Disclosures

M >> Maria Monk >> Awful Disclosures

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The book of Mr. Jones was published, and consisted of affidavits, &c.,
obtained in Canada, including those which had previously been published,
and which are contained in the Appendix to this volume. Many of them
were signed by names unknown, or those of low persons of no credit, or
devoted to the service of the priests. Evidence was afterwards obtained
that Mr. Jones was paid by the Canadian ecclesiastics, of which there
had been strong indications. What rendered his defeat highly important
was, that he was the editor of _L'Ami du Peuple_, the priests'
newspaper, in Montreal, and he was "the author of everything which had
been written there against Maria Monk," and had collected all "the
affidavits and testimony." These were his own declarations. An accurate
report of the interview was published, and had its proper effect,
especially his exclamation--"This is not Fanny Johnson!"

The exciting controversy has long passed, but the authentic records of
it are imperishable, and will ever be regarded as an instructive study.
The corruptions and crimes of nunneries, and the hypocrisy and chicanery
of those who control them, with the varied and powerful means at their
command, are there displayed to an attentive reader, in colors as dark
and appalling as other features of the popish system are among us, by
the recent exposures of the impudent arrogance of the murderer Bedini,
and the ambitious and miserly spirit of his particular friend, the
Romish Archbishop of New York.

Among the recent corroborates of the "Awful Disclosures," may be
particularly mentioned the two narratives entitled "Coralla," and
"Confessions of a Sister of Charity," contained in the work issued this
season by the publishers of the present volume, viz.: "_The Escaped
Nun_; or, Disclosures of Convent Life," &c. Of the authenticity of
those two narratives we can give the public the strongest assurance.

After the city of Rome had been taken by siege by the French army, in
1849, the priests claimed possession of a female orphan-asylum, which
had something of the nature of a nunnery. The republican government had
given liberty to all recluses, and opened all _secret institutions_.
(When will Americans do the same?)

Subsequently, when the papists attempted to reinstate the old system,
the females remonstrated, barred the doors, and armed themselves with
knives and spits from the kitchen, but the French soldiers succeeded in
reducing them by force. During the contest the cry of the women was, "We
will not be the _wives_ of the priests!"

In one of the convents in that city, opened by the republicans, were
found evidences of some of the worst crimes mentioned by Maria Monk; and
in another were multitudes of bones, including those of children.

A strong effort will probably be made again, by the parties exposed by
this book, to avoid the condemnation which it throws upon convents--the
strongholds of superstition, corruption, and _foreign influence_,
in the United States. The Romish publications, although greatly reduced
in number within a few years, will probably pour out much of their
unexhausted virulence, as it is their vocation to misrepresent, deny,
and vilify. They will be ready to pronounce a general anathema on all
who dare to reprint, or even to read or believe, such strong accusations
against the "holy retreats" of those whom they pretend are "devoted to
lives of piety." But we will challenge them to do it again, by placing
some of their iron bishops and even popes in the forefront.

In the year 1489, in the reign of Henry VII, Pope Innocent VIII
published a bull for the Reformation of Monasteries, entitled, in Latin,
"_De Reformatione Monasceriorum_," in which he says that, "members
of monasteries and other religious places, both Clemian, Cistercian, and
Praemonstratensian, and various other orders in the Kingdom of England"
--"lead a lascivious and truly dissolute life." And that the papist
reader may receive this declaration with due reverence, we copy the
preceding words in Latin, as written by an infallible pope, the man
whose worshippers address him as "Vicegerent of God on earth." Of course
his words must convince them, if ours do not: "Vitam lascivam ducunt, et
nimium dissolutam." "Swine Priory," in 1303, had a Prioress named
Josiana, whose conduct made the name of her house quite appropriate. In
France, in the Council of Troyes, A. D. 999, the Archbishop said, "In
convents of monks, canons, and nuns, we have lay abbots residing with
their wives, sons, daughters, soldiers and dogs;" and he charges the
whole clergy with being in a deprived and sinful state. But the
particulars now before us, of such shameful things in Germany, Italy,
&c., for ages, would fill a larger volume than this.

Now, let the defenders of nunneries repeat, if they dare, their
hackneyed denunciations of those who deny their sanctity. Here stand
some of their own bishops and popes before us; and the anathemas must
fall first upon mitres and tiaras! Americans will know how much
confidence to place in the pretended purity of institutions, whose
iniquity and shame have been thus proclaimed, age after age, in a far
more extensive manner than by this book. But we can at any time shut
their mouths by the mere mention of "_Den's Theology_," which they
must not provoke us to refer to.

AWFUL DISCLOSURES.

CHAPTER I.

EARLY RECOLLECTIONS.

Early Life--Religious Education neglected--First Schools--Entrance into
the School of the Congregational Nunnery--Brief Account of the Nunneries
in Montreal--The Congregational Nunnery--The Black Nunnery--The Grey
Nunnery--Public Respect for these Institutions--Instruction Received--
The Catechism--The Bible.

My parents were both from Scotland, but had been resident in Lower
Canada some time before their marriage, which took place in Montreal;
and in that city I spent most of my life. I was born at St. John's,
where they lived for a short time. My father was an officer under the
British Government, and my mother has enjoyed a pension on that account
ever since his death. [Footnote: See the affidavit of William Miller, in
the Appendix.]

According to my earliest recollections, he was attentive to his family;
and a particular passage from the Bible, which often occurred to my mind
in after life, I may very probably have been taught by him, as after his
death I do not recollect to have received any religious instruction at
home; and was not even brought up to read the scriptures: my mother,
although nominally a Protestant, not being accustomed to pay attention
to her children in this respect. She was rather inclined to think well
of the Catholics, and often attended their churches. To my want of
religious instruction at home, and the ignorance of my Creator, and my
duty, which was its natural effect. I think I can trace my introduction
to Convents, and the scenes which I am to describe in this narrative.

When about six or seven years of age, I went to school to a Mr. Workman,
a Protestant, who taught in Sacrament street, and remained several
months. There I learned to read and write, and arithmetic as far as
division. All the progress I ever made in those branches was gained in
that school, as I have never improved in any of them since.

A number of girls of my acquaintance went to school to the nuns of the
Congregational Nunnery, or Sisters of Charity, as they are sometimes
called. The schools taught by them are perhaps more numerous than some
of my readers may imagine. Nuns are sent out from that Convent to many
of the towns and villages of Canada to teach small schools; and some of
them are established as instructresses in different parts of the United
States. When I was about ten years old, my mother asked me one day if I
should not like to learn to read and write French; and I then began to
think seriously of attending the school in the Congregational Nunnery. I
had already some acquaintance with that language, sufficient to speak it
a little, as I heard it every day, and my mother knew something of it.

I have a distinct recollection of my first entrance into the Nunnery;
and the day was an important one in my life, as on it commenced my
acquaintance with a Convent. I was conducted by some of my young friends
along Notre Dame street till we reached the gate. Entering that, we
walked some distance along the side of a building towards the chapel,
until we reached a door, stopped, and rung a bell. This was soon opened,
and entering, we proceeded through a long covered passage till we took a
short turn to the left, soon after which we reached the door of the
school-room. On my entrance, the Superior met me, and told me first of
all that I must always dip my fingers into the holy water at her door,
cross myself, and say a short prayer; and this she told me was always
required of Protestant as well as Catholic children.

There were about fifty girls in the school, and the nuns professed to
teach something of reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography. The
methods, however, were very imperfect, and little attention was devoted
to them, the time being in a great degree engrossed with lessons in
needle-work, which was performed with much skill. The nuns had no very
regular parts assigned them in the management of the schools. They were
rather rough and unpolished in their manners, often exclaiming, "c'est
un menti" (that's a lie), and "mon Dieu" (my God), on the most trivial
occasions. Their writing was quite poor, and it was not uncommon for
them to put a capital letter in the middle of a word. The only book on
geography which we studied, was a catechism of geography, from which we
learnt by heart a few questions and answers. We were sometimes referred
to a map, but it was only to point out Montreal or Quebec, or some other
prominent name, while we had no instruction beyond.

It may be necessary for the information of some of my readers, to
mention that there are three distinct Convents in Montreal, all of
different kinds; that is, founded on different plans, and governed by
different rules. Their names are as follows:--

1st. The Congregational Nunnery.

2d. The Black Nunnery, or Convent of Sister Bourgeoise.

3d The Grey Nunnery.

The first of these professes to be devoted entirely to the education of
girls. It would require however only a proper examination to prove that,
with the exception of needle-work, hardly anything is taught excepting
prayers and the catechism; the instruction in reading, writing, &c., in
fact, amounting to very little, and often to nothing. This Convent is
adjacent to that next to be spoken of, being separated from it only by a
wall. The second professes to be a charitable institution for the care
of the sick, and the supply of bread and medicines for the poor; and
something is done in these departments of charity, although but an
insignificant amount, compared with the size of the buildings, and the
number of the inmates.

The Grey Nunnery, which is situated in a distant part of the city, is
also a large edifice, containing departments for the care of insane
persons and foundlings. With this, however, I have less personal
acquaintance than with either of the others. I have often seen two of
the Grey nuns, and know that their rules, as well as those of the
Congregational Nunnery, do not confine them always within their walls,
like those of the Black Nunnery. These two Convents have their common
names (Black and Grey) from the colours of the dresses worn by their
inmates.

In all these three Convents, there are certain apartments into which
strangers can gain admittance, but others from which they are always
excluded. In all, large quantities of various ornaments are made by the
nuns, which are exposed for sale in the _Ornament_ Rooms, and
afford large pecuniary receipts every year, which contribute much to
their incomes. In these rooms visitors often purchase such things as
please them from some of the old [Footnote: The term "old nun," does not
always indicate superior age.] and confidential nuns who have the charge
of them.

From all that appears to the public eye, the nuns of these Convents are
devoted to the charitable objects appropriate to each, the labour of
making different articles, known to be manufactured by them, and the
religious observances, which occupy a large portion of their time. They
are regarded with much respect by the people at large; and now and then
when a novice takes the veil, she is supposed to retire from the
temptations and troubles of this world into a state of holy seclusion,
where, by prayer, self-mortification, and good deeds, she prepares
herself for heaven. Sometimes the Superior of a Convent obtains the
character of working miracles; and when such a one dies, it is published
through the country, and crowds throng the Convent, who think
indulgences are to be derived from bits of her clothes or other things
she has possessed; and many have sent articles to be touched to her bed
or chair, in which a degree of virtue is thought to remain. I used to
participate in such ideas and feelings, and began by degrees to look
upon a nun as the happiest of women, and a Convent as the most peaceful,
holy, and delightful place of abode. It is true, some pains were taken
to impress such views upon me. Some of the priests of the Seminary often
visited the Congregation Nunnery, and both catechised and talked with us
on religion. The Superior of the Black Nunnery adjoining, also,
occasionally came into the School, enlarged on the advantages we enjoyed
in having such teachers, and dropped something now and then relating to
her own Convent, calculated to make us entertain the highest ideas of
it, and to make us sometimes think of the possibility of getting into
it.

Among the instructions given us by the priests, some of the most pointed
were those directed against the Protestant Bible. They often enlarged
upon the evil tendency of that book, and told us that but for it many a
soul now condemned to hell, and suffering eternal punishment, might have
been in happiness. They could not say any thing in its favour: for that
would be speaking against religion and against God. They warned us
against it, and represented it as a thing very dangerous to our souls.
In confirmation of this, they would repeat some of the answers taught us
at catechism, a few of which I will here give. We had little catechisms
("Le Petit Catechism") put into our hands to study; but the priests soon
began to teach us a new set of answers, which were not to be found in
our books, and from some of which I received new ideas, and got, as I
thought, important light on religious subjects, which confirmed me more
and more in my belief in the Roman Catholic doctrines. These questions
and answers I can still recall with tolerable accuracy, and some of them
I will add here. I never have read them, as we were taught them only by
word of mouth.

_Question_. "Pourquoi le bon Dieu n'a pas fait tous les
commandemens?"

_Reponse_. "Parce que l'homme n'est pas si fort qu'il peut garder
tous ses commandemens."

_Q_. "Why did not God make all the commandments?"

_A_. "Because man is not strong enough to keep them."

And another. _Q_. "Pourquoi l'homme ne lit pas l'Evangile?"

_R_. "Parce que l'esprit de l'homme est trop borne et trop faible
pour comprendre qu'est ce que Dieu a ecrit."

_Q_. "Why are men not to read the New Testament?"

_A_. "Because the mind of man is too limited and weak to understand
what God has written."

These questions and answers are not to be found in the common catechisms
in use in Montreal and other places where I have been, but all the
children in the Congregational Nunnery were taught them, and many more
not found in these books.

CHAPTER II.

CONGREGATIONAL NUNNERY.

Story told by a fellow Pupil against a Priest--Other Stories--Pretty
Mary--Confess to Father Richards--My subsequent Confessions--Left the
Congregational Nunnery.

There was a girl thirteen years old whom I knew in the School, who
resided in the neighborhood of my mother, and with whom I had been
familiar. She told me one day at school of the conduct of a priest with
her at confession, at which I was astonished. It was of so criminal and
shameful a nature, I could hardly believe it, and yet I had so much
confidence that she spoke the truth, that I could not discredit it.

She was partly persuaded by the priest to believe that he could not sin,
because he was a priest, and that anything he did to her would sanctify
her; and yet she seemed doubtful how she should act. A priest, she had
been told by him, is a holy man, and appointed to a holy office, and
therefore what would be wicked in other men, could not be so in him. She
told me that she had informed her mother of it, who expressed no anger
nor disapprobation, but only enjoined it upon her not to speak of it;
and remarked to her, that as priests were not like other men, but holy,
and sent to instruct and save us, whatever they did was right.

I afterward confessed to the priest that I had heard the story, and had
a penance to perform for indulging a sinful curiosity in making
inquiries; and the girl had another for communicating it. I afterward
learned that other children had been treated in the same manner, and
also of similar proceedings in other places.

Indeed, it was not long before such language was used to me, and I well
remember how my views of right and wrong were shaken by it. Another girl
at the School, from a place above Montreal, called the Lac, told me the
following story of what had occurred recently in that vicinity. A young
squaw, called la Belle Marie,(pretty Mary,) had been seen going to
confession at the house of the priest, who lived a little out of the
village. La Belle Marie was afterwards missed, and her murdered body was
found in the river. A knife was also found covered with blood, bearing
the priest's name. Great indignation was excited among the Indians, and
the priest immediately absconded, and was never heard from again. A note
was found on his table addressed to him, telling him to fly if he was
guilty.

It was supposed that the priest was fearful that his conduct might be
betrayed by this young female; and he undertook to clear himself by
killing her.

These stories struck me with surprise at first, but I gradually began to
feel differently, even supposing them true, and to look upon the priests
as men incapable of sin; besides, when I first went to confession, which
I did to Father Richards, in the old French church (since taken down), I
heard nothing improper; and it was not until I had been several times,
that the priests became more and more bold, and were at length indecent
in their questions and even in their conduct when I confessed to them in
the Sacristie. This subject I believe is not understood nor suspected
among Protestants; and it is not my intention to speak of it very
particularly, because it is impossible to do so without saying things
both shameful and demoralizing.

I will only say here, that when quite a child, I had from the mouths of
the priests at confession what I cannot repeat, with treatment
corresponding; and several females in Canada have recently assured me,
that they have repeatedly, and indeed regularly, been required to answer
the same and other like questions, many of which present to the mind
deeds which the most iniquitous and corrupt heart could hardly invent.

There was a frequent change of teachers in the School of the Nunnery;
and no regular system was pursued in our instruction. There were many
nuns who came and went while I was there, being frequently called in and
out without any perceptible reason. They supply school teachers to many
of the country towns, usually two for each of the towns with which I was
acquainted, besides sending Sisters of Charity to different parts of the
United States. Among those whom I saw most, was Saint Patrick, an old
woman for a nun (that is, about forty), very ignorant, and gross in her
manners, with quite a beard on her face, and very cross and
disagreeable. She was sometimes our teacher in sewing, and was appointed
to keep order among us. We were allowed to enter only a few of the rooms
in the Congregational Nunnery, although it was not considered one of the
secluded Convents.

In the Black Nunnery, which is very near the Congregational, is an
hospital for sick people from the city; and sometimes some of our
boarders, such as are indisposed, were sent there to be cured. I was
once taken ill myself and sent there, where I remained a few days.

There were beds enough for a considerable number more. A physician
attended it daily; and there are a number of the veiled nuns of that
Convent who spend most of their time there.

These would also sometimes read lectures and repeat prayers to us.

After I had been in the Congregational Nunnery about two years, I left
it,[Footnote: See the 2d affidavit.] and attended several different
schools for a short time; but I soon became dissatisfied, having many
and severe trials to endure at home, which my feelings will not allow me
to describe; and as my Catholic acquaintances had often spoken to me in
favour of their faith, I was inclined to believe it true, although, as I
before said, I knew little of any religion. While out of the nunnery, I
saw nothing of religion. If I had, I believe I should never have thought
of becoming a nun.

CHAPTER III.

BLACK NUNNERY.

Preparations to become a Novice in the Black Nunnery--Entrance--
Occupations of the Novices--The Apartments to which they had Access--
First Interview with Jane Ray--Reverence for the Superior--Her Reliques
--The Holy Good Shepherd or nameless Nun--Confession of Novices.

At length I determined to become a Black nun, and called upon one of the
oldest priests in the Seminary, to whom I made known my intention.

The old priest to whom I applied was Father Rocque. He is still alive.
He was at that time the oldest priest in the Seminary, and carried the
Bon Dieu, (Good God,) as the sacramental wafer is called. When going to
administer it in any country place, he used to ride with a man before
him, who rang a bell as a signal. When the Canadians heard it, whose
habitations he passed, they would come and prostrate themselves to the
earth, worshipping it as God. He was a man of great age, and wore large
curls, so that he somewhat resembled his predecessor, Father Roue. He
was at that time at the head of the Seminary. This institution is a
large edifice, situated near the Congregational and Black Nunneries,
being on the east side of Notre Dame street. It is the general
rendezvous and centre of all the priests in the District of Montreal,
and, I have been told, supplies all the country with priests as far down
as Three Rivers, which place, I believe, is under the charge of the
Seminary of Quebec. About one hundred and fifty priests are connected
with that of Montreal, as every small place has one priest, and a number
of larger ones have two.

Father Rocque promised to converse with the Superior of the Convent, and
proposed my calling again, at the end of two weeks, at which time I
visited the Seminary again, and was introduced by him to the Superior of
the Black Nunnery. She told me she must make some inquiries, before she
could give me a decided answer; and proposed to me to take up my abode a
few days at the house of a French family in St. Lawrence suburbs, a
distant part of the city. Here I remained about a fortnight; during
which time I formed some acquaintance with the family, particularly with
the mistress of the house, who was a devoted Papist, and had a high
respect for the Superior, with whom she stood on good terms.

At length, on Saturday morning about ten o'clock, I called and was
admitted into the Black Nunnery, as a novice, much to my satisfaction,
for I had a high idea of a life in a Convent, secluded, as I supposed
the inmates to be, from the world and all its evil influences, and
assured of everlasting happiness in heaven. The Superior received me,
and conducted me into a large room, where the novices, (who are called
in French Postulantes,) were assembled, and engaged in their customary
occupation of sewing.

Here were about forty of them, and they were collected in groups in
different parts of the room, chiefly near the windows; but in each group
was found one of the veiled nuns of the Convent, whose abode was in the
interior apartments, to which no novice was to be admitted. As we
entered, the Superior informed the assembly that a new novice had come,
and she desired any present who might have known me in the world to
signify it.

Two Miss Fougnees, and a Miss Howard, from Vermont, who had been my
fellow-pupils in the Congregational Nunnery, immediately recognised me.
I was then placed in one of the groups, at a distance from them, and
furnished by a nun called Sainte Clotilde, with materials to make a kind
of purse, such as the priests use to carry the consecrated wafer in,
when they go to administer the sacrament to the sick. I well remember my
feelings at that time, sitting among a number of strangers, and
expecting with painful anxiety the arrival of the dinner hour. Then, as
I knew, ceremonies were to be performed, for which I was but ill
prepared, as I had not yet heard the rules by which I was to be
governed, and knew nothing of the forms to be repeated in the daily
exercises, except the creed in Latin, and that imperfectly. This was
during the time of recreation, as it is called. The only recreation
there allowed, however, is that of the mind, and of this there is but
little. We were kept at work, and permitted to speak with each other
only on such subjects as related to the Convent, and all in the hearing
of the old nuns who sat by us. We proceeded to dinner in couples, and
ate in silence while a lecture was read.

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