"One Sabbath I invited her to attend service, and we went to hear Mr. Tappan preach; but after her return, some of the Irish women told her to go no more, but mind her own religion. This produced an impression upon her, for she seemed like a child of tender feeling, gentle, and disposed to yield. She bound herself round my heart a good deal, she was of so affectionate a turn. The rudeness with which she was treated by several of the women, when they dared, would sometimes overcome her. A large and rather old woman, named Welsh, one of the inmates, entered the room one day, very abruptly, saying, 'I want to see this virtuous nun;' and abused her with most shameful language, so that I had to return to her, and complain of her to the Superintendent, who was shocked at such impudence in a foreign pauper, so that she was put into another room. Maria was washing her hands at the time Mrs. Welsh came in, and was so much agitated, that she did not raise her head, and almost fainted, so that I had to lift her upon a bed.
"Before this occurrence, the women would often speak to Maria while I was away and, as I had every reason to believe, endeavoured to persuade her to go to the priests. I told them that they ought rather to protect her, as she had come to the same country where they had sought protection.
"Mr. Conroy, a Roman priest, used to be regularly at the institution two or three times a week, from about 10 till 1 o'clock, both before and after Maria Monk became an inmate of it. No. 10 was his confession-room. He baptised children in the square-ward, and sometimes visited the sick Catholics in other rooms. Sometimes he went up in the afternoon also.
"I heard it said, that Mr. Conroy had asked to speak with Maria: and that an offer was made to him that he might see her before others, but not otherwise, to which Mr. Conroy did not consent.
"Sometimes Maria was much disturbed in her sleep, starting suddenly, with every appearance of terror. Some nights she did not sleep at all, and often told me, what I had no doubt was the fact, that she was too much agitated by the recollection of what she had seen in the Nunnery. She would sometimes say in the morning, 'O, if I could tell you! You think you have had trouble, but I have had more than ever you did.'
"Her distressing state of mind, with the trials caused by those around her, kept me constantly thinking of Maria, so that when employed at a distance from her, I would often run to her room, to see how she was for a moment, and back again. Fortunately, the women around held me somewhat in fear, because they found my reports of the interference of some were attended to; and this kept them more at a distance; yet they would take advantage of my absence sometimes. One day, on coming to No. 23. I found Maria all in a tremour, and she told me that Mrs. ——, one of the Roman Catholic nurses, had informed her that Mr. Conroy was in the institution, and wished to see her. 'And what shall I do?' she inquired of me, in great distress.
"I told her not to be afraid, and that she should be protected, as she was among friends, and endeavoured to quiet her fears all I could; but it was very difficult to do so. One of the women in the house, I know, told Maria, in my presence, one day, that Mr. Conroy was waiting in the passage to see her. The present Superintendent (another Mr. Stevens) succeeded the former while Maria and I were in the Hospital. Abby Welsh (not the Mrs. Welsh mentioned before) got very angry with me one day, because, as usual on the days when Mr. Conroy came, I was watchful to prevent his having an interview with Maria. Another person, for a time, used to employ her in sewing in her room on those days, for she also protected her, as well in this way, as by reproving those who troubled her. Abby Welsh, finding me closely watching Maria on the day I was speaking of, told me, in a passion, that I might watch her as closely as I pleased—Mr. Conroy would have her. Not long after this, I saw Abby Welsh talking earnestly with Mr. Conroy, in the yard, under one of the windows of the Middle House, and heard her say, 'the nun,' and afterward, 'she's hid.'
"A Roman Catholic woman, who supposed that Maria had been seen in St. Mary's Church, expressed a wish that she could have caught her there; and said, she would never again have made her appearance. I inquired whether there was any place where she could have been confined. She replied, in a reserved, but significant manner, 'There is at least one cell there for her.'
"New York, March 23d, 1836."
It would be a natural question, if my readers should ask, "What said the Roman Catholics to such testimonials? They laid great stress on affidavits sent for to Montreal; what do they think of affidavits spontaneously given in New York?"