Cheiro - "Palmistry for All"

Moliere [Jean Baptiste Poquelin] - "Don Juan, ou le Festin de pierre"

Various - "The Best Short Stories of 1915"

Mark Twain - "Chapters from My Autobiography"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Awful Disclosures

M >> Maria Monk >> Awful Disclosures




In obedience to the directions of the Superior, we exerted ourselves to
make her contented, especially when she was first received, when we got
round her, and told her we had felt so for a time, but having since
become acquainted with the happiness of a nun's life, were perfectly
content and would never be willing to leave the Convent. An exception
seemed to be made in her favor, in one respect: for I believe no
criminal attempt was made upon her, until she had been some time an
inmate of the nunnery.

Soon after her reception, or rather her forcible entry into the Convent,
her father called to make inquiry about his daughter. The Superior first
spoke with him herself, and then called us to repeat her plausible
story, which I did with accuracy. If I had wished to say any thing else,
I never should have dared.

We told the foolish old man, that his daughter, whom we all loved, had
long desired to become a Nun, but had been too humble to wish to appear
before spectators, and had, at her own desire, been favored with a
private admission into the community.

The benefit conferred upon himself and his family, by this act of self-
consecration I reminded him, must be truly great and valuable; as every
family which furnishes a priest, or a nun, is justly looked upon as
receiving the peculiar favor of heaven on that account. The old Canadian
firmly believed every word I was forced to tell him, took the event as a
great blessing, and expressed the greatest readiness to pay more than
the customary fee to the Convent. After the interview, he withdrew,
promising soon to return and pay a handsome sum to the convent, which he
performed with all despatch, and the greatest cheerfulness. The poor
girl never heard that her father had taken the trouble to call to see
her, much less did she know any thing of the imposition passed upon him.
She remained in the Convent when I left it.

The youngest girl who ever took the veil of our sisterhood, was only
fourteen years of age, and considered very pious. She lived but a short
time. I was told that she was ill-treated by the priests, and believe
her death was in consequence.




CHAPTER XV.

Influencing Novices--Difficulty of convincing persons from the United
States--Tale of the Bishop in the City--The Bishop in the Convent--The
Prisoners in the Cells--Practice in Singing--Narratives, Jane Ray's
Hymns, The Superior's best Trick.


It was considered a great duty to exert ourselves to influence novices
in favor of the Roman Catholic religion; and different nuns, were, at
different times, charged to do what they could, by conversation, to make
favourable impressions on the minds of some, who were particularly
indicated to us by the Superior. I often heard it remarked, that those
who were influenced with the greatest difficulty, were young ladies from
the United States; and on some of those, great exertions were made.

Cases in which citizens of the States were said to have been converted
to the Roman Catholic faith, were sometimes spoken of, and always as if
they were considered highly important.

The Bishop, as we were told, was on the public square, on the day of an
execution, when, as he said, a stranger looked at him in some peculiar
manner, which made him confidently believe God intended to have him
converted by his means. When he went home, he wrote a letter for him,
and the next day found him again in the same place, and gave him the
letter, which led to his becoming a Roman Catholic. This man, it was
added, proved to be a citizen of the States.

The Bishop, as I have remarked, was not very dignified on all occasions,
and sometimes acted in such a manner as would not have appeared well in
public.

One day I saw him preparing for mass; and because he had difficulty in
getting on his robe, showed evident signs of anger. One of the nuns
remarked: "The Bishop is going to perform a passionate mass." Some of
the others exclaimed: "Are you not ashamed to speak so of my lord!" And
she was rewarded with a penance.

But it might be hoped that the Bishop would be free from the crimes of
which I have declared so many priests to have been guilty. I am far from
entertaining such charitable opinions of him; and I had good reasons,
after a time.

I was often required to sleep on a sofa, in the room of the present
Superior, as I may have already mentioned.

One night, not long after I was first introduced there, for that
purpose, and within the first twelve months of my wearing the veil,
having retired as usual, at about half-past nine, not long after we had
got into bed, the alarm-bell from without, which hangs over the
Superior's bed, was rung. She told me to see who was there; and going
down, I heard the signal given, which I have before mentioned, a
peculiar kind of hissing sound made through the teeth. I answered with a
low, "Hum-hum;" and then opened the door. It was Bishop Lartigue, the
present Bishop of Montreal. He said to me, "Are you a Novice or a
Received?" meaning a Received nun. I answered a "Received."

He then requested me to conduct him to the Superior's room, which I did.
He went to the bed, drew the curtains behind him, and I lay down again
upon the sofa, until morning, when the Superior called me, at an early
hour, about daylight, and directed me to show him the door, to which I
conducted him, and he took his departure.

I continued to visit the cellar frequently, to carry up coal for the
fires, without anything more than a general impression that there were
two nuns, somewhere imprisoned in it. One day while there on my usual
errand, I saw a nun standing on the right of the cellar, in front of one
of the cell doors I had before observed; she was apparently engaged with
something within. This attracted my attention. The door appeared to
close in a small recess, and was fastened with a stout iron bolt on the
outside, the end of which was secured by being let into a hole in the
stone-work which formed the posts. The door, which was of wood, was sank
a few inches beyond the stone-work, rose and formed an arch overhead.
Above the bolt was a window supplied with a fine grating, which swung
open, a small bolt having been removed from it, on the outside. The nun
I had observed seemed to be whispering with some person within, through
the little window: but I hastened to get my coal, and left the cellar,
presuming that was the prison. When I visited the place again, being
alone, I ventured to the spot, determined to learn the truth, presuming
that the imprisoned nuns, of whom the Superior had told me on my
admission, were confined there. I spoke at the window where I had seen
the nun standing, and heard a voice reply in a whisper. The aperture was
so small, and the place so dark, that I could see nobody; but I learnt
that a poor wretch was confined there a prisoner. I feared that I might
be discovered, and after a few words, which I thought could do no harm,
I withdrew.

My curiosity was now alive, to learn every thing I could about so
mysterious a subject. I made a few inquiries of Saint Xavier, who only
informed me that they were punished for refusing to obey the Superior,
Bishop, and Priests. I afterward found that the other nuns were
acquainted with the fact I had just discovered. All I could learn,
however, was, that the prisoner in the cell whom I had spoken with, and
another in the cell just beyond, had been confined there several years
without having been taken out; but their names, connexions, offences,
and everything else relating to them, I could never learn, and am still
as ignorant of as ever. Some conjectured that they had refused to comply
with some of the rules of the Convent or requisitions of the Superior;
others, that they were heiresses whose property was desired for the
convent, and who would not consent to sign deeds of it. Some of the nuns
informed me, that the severest of their sufferings arose from fear of
supernatural beings.

I often spoke with one of them in passing near their cells, when on
errands in the cellar, but never ventured to stop long, or to press my
inquiries very far. Besides, I found her reserved, and little disposed
to converse freely, a thing I could not wonder at when I considered her
situation, and the characters of persons around her. She spoke like a
woman in feeble health, and of broken spirits. I occasionally saw other
nuns speaking to them, particularly at mealtimes, when they were
regularly furnished with food, which was such as we ourselves ate.

Their cells were occasionally cleaned and then the doors were opened. I
never looked into them, but was informed that the ground was their only
floor. I presumed that they were furnished with straw to lie upon, as I
always saw a quantity of old straw scattered about that part of the
cellar, after the cells had been cleansed. I once inquired of one of
them, whether they could converse together, and she replied that they
could, through a small opening between their cells, which I could not
see.

I once inquired of the one I spoke with in passing, whether she wanted
anything, and she replied, "Tell Jane Ray I want to see her a moment if
she can slip away." When I went up I took an opportunity to deliver my
message to Jane, who concerted with me a signal to be used in future, in
case a similar request should be made through me. This was a sly wink at
her with one eye, accompanied with a slight toss of my head. She then
sought an opportunity to visit the cellar, and was soon able to hold an
interview with the poor prisoners, without being noticed by any one but
myself. I afterward learnt that mad Jane Ray was not so mad, but she
could feel for those miserable beings, and carry through measures for
their comfort. She would often visit them with sympathizing words, and,
when necessary, conceal part of her food while at table, and secretly
convey it into their dungeons. Sometimes we would combine for such an
object; and I have repeatedly aided her in thus obtaining a larger
supply of food than they had been able to obtain from others.

I frequently thought of the two nuns confined in the cells, and
occasionally heard something said about them, but very little. Whenever
I visited the cellar and thought it safe, I went up to the first of them
and spoke a word or two, and usually got some brief reply, without
ascertaining that any particular change took place with either of them.
The one with whom I ever conversed, spoke English perfectly well, and
French I thought as well. I supposed she must have been well educated,
for I could not tell which was her native language. I remember that she
frequently used these words when I wished to say more to her, and which
alone showed that she was constantly afraid of punishment: "Oh, there's
somebody coming--do go away!" I have been told that the other prisoner
also spoke English.

It was impossible for me to form any certain opinion about the size or
appearance of those two miserable creatures, for their cells were
perfectly dark, and I never caught the slightest glimpse even of their
faces. It is probable they were women not above the middle size, and my
reason for this presumption is the following: I was sometimes appointed
to lay out the clean clothes for all the nuns in the Convent on Saturday
evening, and was always directed to lay by two suits for the prisoners.
Particular orders were given to select the largest sized garments for
several tall nuns; but nothing of the kind was ever said in relation to
the clothes for those in the cells.

I had not been long a veiled nun, before I requested of the Superior
permission to confess to the "Saint Bon Pasteur," (Holy Good Shepherd,)
that is, the mysterious and nameless nun whom I had heard of while a
novice. I knew of several others who had confessed to her at different
times, and of some who had sent their clothes to be touched by her when
they were sick; and I felt a desire to unburden my heart of certain
things, which I was loath to acknowledge to the Superior, or any of the
priests.

The Superior made me wait a little, until she could ascertain whether
the "Saint Bon Pasteur" was ready to admit me; and after a time
returned, and told me to enter the old nuns' room. That apartment has
twelve beds, arranged like the berths of a ship by threes; and as each
is broad enough to receive two persons, twenty-four may be lodged there,
which was about the number of old nuns in the Convent during the most of
my stay in it. Near an opposite corner of the apartment was a large
glass case, with no appearance of a door, or other opening, in any part
of it: and in that case stood the venerable nun, in the dress of the
community, with her thick veil spread over her face, so as to conceal it
entirely. She was standing, for the place did not allow room for
sitting, and moved a little, which was the only sign of life, as she did
not speak. I fell upon my knees before her, and began to confess some of
my imperfections, which lay heavy upon my mind, imploring her aid and
intercession, that I might be delivered from them. She appeared to
listen to me with patience, but still never returned a word in reply. I
became much affected as I went on, and at length began to weep bitterly;
and when I withdrew, was in tears. It seemed to me that my heart was
remarkably relieved after this exercise, and all the requests I had
made, I found, as I believed, strictly fulfilled. I often, afterward,
visited the old nuns' room for the same purpose, and with similar
results, so that my belief in the sanctity of the nameless nun, and my
regard for her intercession were unbounded.

What is remarkable, though I repeatedly was sent into that A room to
dust it, or to put it in order, I remarked that the glass case was
vacant, and no signs were to be found either of the nun or of the way by
which she had left it; so that a solemn conclusion rested upon my mind,
that she had gone on one of her frequent visits to heaven.

A priest would sometimes come in the daytime to teach us to sing, and
this was done with some parade or stir, as if it were considered, or
meant to be considered as a thing of importance.

The instructions, however, were entirely repetitions of the words and
tunes, nothing being taught even of the first principles of the science.
It appeared to me, that although hymns alone were sung, the exercise was
chiefly designed for our amusement, to raise our spirits a little, which
were apt to become depressed. Mad Jane Ray certainly usually treated the
whole thing as a matter of sport, and often excited those of us who
understood English to a great degree of mirth. She had a very fine
voice, which was so powerful as generally to be heard above the rest.
Sometimes she would be silent when the other nuns began; I and the
Superior would often call out, "Jane Ray, you don't sing." She always
had some trifling excuse ready, and commonly appeared unwilling to join
the rest. After being urged or commanded by the Superior, she would then
strike up some English song, or profane parody, which was rendered ten
times more ridiculous by the ignorance of the Lady Superior and the
majority of the nuns. I cannot help laughing now when I remember how she
used to stand with perfect composure and sing,

"I wish I was married and nothing to rue,
With plenty of money and nothing to do."

"Jane Ray, you don't sing right," the Superior would exclaim. "Oh," she
would reply, with perfect coolness, "that is the English for,

'Seigneur Dieu de clemence,
Recois ce grand pecheur;'"

and, as sung by her, a person ignorant of the language would naturally
be imposed upon. It was extremely difficult for me to conceal my
laughter. I have always had greater exertion to make in repressing it
than most other persons; and mad Jane Ray often took advantage of this.

Saturday evening usually brought with it much unpleasant work for some
of us. We received the Sacrament every Sunday; and in preparation for
it, on Saturday evening we asked pardon of the Superior and of each
other "for the scandal we had caused since we last received the
Sacrament," and then asked the Superior's permission to receive it on
the following day. She inquired of each nun who necessarily asked her
permission, whether she, naming her as Saint somebody, had concealed any
sin that should hinder her from receiving it; and if the answer was in
the negative, she granted her permission.

On Saturdays we were catechised by a priest, being assembled in a
community-room. He sat on the right of the door in a chair. He often
told us stories, and frequently enlarged on the duty enticing novices
into the nunnery. "Do you not feel" he would say, "now that you are
safely out of the world, sure of heaven? But remember how many poor
people are yet in the world. Every novice you influence to the black
veil, will add to your honour in heaven. Tell them how happy you are."

The Superior played one trick while I was in the Convent, which always
passed for one of the most admirable she ever carried into execution. We
were pretty good judges in a case of this kind, for, as may be presumed,
we were rendered familiar with the arts of deception under so
accomplished a teacher.

There was an ornament on hand in the nunnery, of an extraordinary kind,
which was prized at ten pounds; but it had been made and exposed to view
so long, that it became damaged and quite unsaleable. We were one day
visited by an old priest from the country, who was evidently somewhat
intoxicated; and as he withdrew to go to his lodgings, in the Seminary,
where the country priests often stay, the Superior conceived a plan for
disposing of the old ornament. "Come," said she, "we will send it to the
old priest, and swear he has bought it!"

We all approved of the ingenious device, for it evidently might be
classed among the pious frauds we had so often had recommended to us
both by precept and example; and the ornament was sent to him the next
morning, as his property when paid for. He soon came to the Convent, and
expressed the greatest surprise that he had been charged with purchasing
such a thing, for which he had no need and no desire.

The Superior heard this declaration with patience, but politely insisted
that it was a fair bargain; and we then surrounded the old priest, with
the strongest assertions that such was the fact, and that nobody would
ever have thought of his purchasing it unless he had expressly engaged
to take it. The poor old man was entirely put down. He was certain of
the truth: but what could he do: resist or disprove a direct falsehood
pronounced by the Superior of a Convent, and sworn to by all her holy
nuns? He finally expressed his conviction that we were right: he was
compelled to pay his money.




CHAPTER XVI.

Frequency of the Priests' Visits to the Nunnery--Their Freedom and
Crimes--Difficulty of learning their Names--Their Holy Retreat--
Objections in our minds--Means used to counteract Conscience--Ingenious
Arguments.


Some of the priests from the Seminary were in the nunnery every day and
night, and often several at a time. I have seen nearly all of them at
different times, though there are about one hundred and fifty in the
district of Montreal. There was a difference in their conduct; though I
believe every one of them was guilty of licentiousness; while not one
did I ever see who maintained a character any way becoming the
profession of a priest. Some were gross and degraded in a degree which
few of my readers can ever have imagined; and I should be unwilling to
offend the eye, and corrupt the heart of any one, by an account of their
words and actions. Few imaginations can conceive deeds so abominable as
they practised, and often required of some of the poor women, under the
fear of severe punishments, and even of death. I do not hesitate to say
with the strongest confidence, that although some of the nuns became
lost to every sentiment of virtue and honour, especially one from the
Congregational Nunnery whom I have before mentioned, Saint Patrick, the
greater part of them loathed the practices to which they were compelled
to submit by the Superior and priests, who kept them under so dreadful a
bondage.

Some of the priests whom I saw I never knew by name, and the names of
others I did not learn for a time, and at last only by accident.

They were always called "Mon pere," my father; but sometimes, when they
had purchased something in the ornament-room, they would give their real
names, with directions where it should be sent. Many names, thus learnt,
and in other ways, were whispered about from nun to nun, and became
pretty generally known. Several of the priests, some of us had seen
before we entered the Convent.

Many things of which I speak, from the nature of the case, must
necessarily rest chiefly upon my own word, until further evidence can be
obtained: but there are some facts for which I can appeal to the
knowledge of others. It is commonly known in Montreal that some of the
priests occasionally withdraw from their customary employments, and are
not to be seen for some time, it being understood that they have retired
for religious study, meditation and devotion, for the improvement of
their hearts. Sometimes they are thus withdrawn from the world for
weeks: but there is no fixed period.

This was a fact I knew before I took the veil; for it is a frequent
subject of remark, that such or such a Father is on a "holy retreat."
This is a term which conveys the idea of a religious seclusion from the
world for sacred purposes. On the re-appearance of the priest after such
a period, in the church or the streets, it is natural to feel a peculiar
impression of his devout character--an impression very different from
that conveyed to the mind of one who knows matters as they really are.
Suspicions have been indulged by some in Canada on this subject, and
facts are known by at least a few. I am able to speak from personal
knowledge: for I have been a nun of Soeur Bourgeoise.

The priests are liable, by their dissolute habits, to occasional attacks
of disease, which render it necessary, or at least prudent, to submit to
medical treatment.

In the Black Nunnery they find private accommodations, for they are free
to enter one of the private hospitals whenever they please; which is a
room set apart on purpose for the accommodation of the priests, and is
called a retreat-room. But an excuse is necessary to blind the public,
and this they find is the pretence that they make of being in a "Holy
Retreat." Many such cases I have known; and I can mention the names of
priests who have been confined in this Holy Retreat. They are very
carefully attended by the Superior and old nuns, and their diet mostly
consists of vegetable soups, &c., with but little meat, and that fresh.
I have seen an instrument of surgery laying upon the table in that holy
room, which is used only for particular purposes.

Father Tabeau, a Roman priest, was on one of his holy retreats about the
time when I left the nunnery. There are sometimes a number confined
there at the same time. The victims of these priests frequently share
the same fate.

I have often reflected how grievously I had been deceived in my opinion
of a nun's condition! All the holiness of their lives, I now saw, was
merely pretended. The appearance of sanctity and heavenly mindedness
which they had shown among us novices, I found was only a disguise to
conceal such practices as would not be tolerated in any decent society
in the world; and as for peace and joy like that of heaven, which I had
expected to find among them, I learnt too well that they did not exist
there.

The only way in which such thoughts were counteracted, was by the
constant instructions given us by the Superior and priests, to regard
every doubt as a mortal sin. Other faults we might have, as we were told
over and over again, which, though worthy of penances, were far less
sinful than these. For a nun to doubt that she was doing her duty in
fulfilling her vows and oaths, was a heinous offence, and we were
exhorted always to suppress our doubts, to confess them without reserve,
and cheerfully to submit to severe penances on account of them, as the
only means of mortifying our evil dispositions, and resisting the
temptations of the devil. Thus we learnt in a good degree to resist our
minds and consciences, when we felt the first rising of a question about
the duty of doing any thing required of us.

To enforce this upon us, they employed various means. Some of the most
striking stories told us at catechism by the priests, were designed for
this end. One of these, I will repeat. One day, as a priest assured us
who was hearing us say the catechism on Saturday afternoon, as one
Monsieur ----, a well-known citizen of Montreal, was walking near the
cathedral, he saw Satan giving orders to numerous evil spirits who had
assembled around him. Being afraid of being seen, and yet wishing to
observe what was done, he hid himself where he could observe all that
passed. Satan despatched his devils to different parts of the city, with
directions to do their best for him; and they returned in a short time,
bringing in reports of their success in leading persons of different
classes to the commission of various sins, which they thought would be
agreeable to their master. Satan, however, expressed his
dissatisfaction, and ordered them out again; but just then a spirit from
the Black Nunnery came, who had not been seen before, and stated that he
had been trying for seven years to persuade one of the nuns to doubt,
and had just succeeded. Satan received the intelligence with the highest
pleasure; and turning to the spirits around him, said: "You have not
half done your work--he has done much more than all of you."

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