“But,” said I, “you wanted to?”
She said, “No, I never asked to. You yourself heard what the reverend Mother said to me; and previous to that, she had not uttered a word on the subject.”
“But,” said I, “you know what the reverend Father said before every one, how eloquently he told them that the virgin about to be professed was not yet bound, and even at that last minute she was perfectly free to return to the world if she chose; but that only after she had taken this awful step she could not go back?”
To which she replied: “Yes, he did, I know, say so in public, but you do not know what he said to me in private.”
Oh, how easily the world is deceived by such high-sounding phrases! “The doors are open—all are free to leave as soon as they like, etc.” When people speak of inspecting convents, they should remember that to do so thoroughly, something beyond what is visible to the eye must be investigated, even the interior of each nun’s heart, and the terrible moral force that has been brought to bear upon it. And remember, too, that if a sister’s own mother or sister came to see her, she could not discover the deep distress that so often lies upon her daughter’s heart. No nun would dare to tell it, even to her mother, though her heart might be breaking with misery. She would have to appear before her mother with the look of one who is perfectly happy, and even smiling, otherwise she would be instrumental in bringing disgrace and scandal upon the convent, and this, at all cost, must be avoided. I have had to appear thus, looking happy and free before my own mother, when a few minutes before I had been crying, wishing and praying that I might die.
After this digression, I will return to give an account of a novice at Slapton, who took vows on the same day as Sister E. just mentioned. They promised to let her take the black veil soon, provided only that she showed herself a submissive child (this child was over thirty), who had no wish or opinion but that of her superiors. But unfortunately for her, she had a very natural habit of forming an opinion for herself, and admitted that she thought it no harm to do so, as long as she kept that opinion to herself. But there was great harm in this (so the Superior said), inasmuch as a novice should be in all things of one mind with her Superiors, in thought, word, and deed. This novice brought with her a valuable gold watch, which she was content to give up for the time being, and, according to novice rules, she had given up her box and keys. The Mother had looked into Sister F.’s box, and there saw some things she wanted for use in the convent, and she told Sister F. so. The novice, however, was not willing that they should be used, as she had not taken life vows; in this way she first drew upon herself the Mother Superior’s displeasure and censure. Shortly after this she was asked to give up her money to help in building a new cloister at Llanthony. She said she was willing to give up a part but not the whole, and would very much like to put a stone in the building. Thus by exercising her own opinion she was again brought into disgrace, and was told she could keep her money, and would not be allowed the privilege of putting a stone to the building. She must give up all her money or none. From that time she was treated with the greatest severity, and looked upon as the offscouring of all things. To make a long story short, she was soon packed off from Slapton as having no vocation to the “religious life.” How strange it was that her Superiors were unable to detect this until they discovered that she was unwilling to give up her money to build a holy cloister! Before this they had a very good opinion of her.
CHAPTER IX.
CONVENT LIFE AT LLANTHONY.
I was looking forward to taking the black veil, but somehow the Mother had made a firm resolve to keep me, if possible, from taking this step. I may be permitted to write a few words about the present Lady Prioress of Llanthony. This lady took novice vows with me in 1869. She gained a great reputation for sanctity by an assumed air of humility, and by performing innumerable voluntary penances and antics, which put her less saintly sisters to much discomfort and disgust. I recollect her once sitting next to me in the refectory at dinner, when I saw a roasted maggot on her plate, which made me feel quite ill. I signed to her, fearing she would eat it unperceived, whereupon she at once took it upon her fork, salted it, and put it into her mouth, looking the very picture of goodness. She would of her own free will throw herself down on the floor, and meekly kiss everybody’s feet, beg their prayers, and thank them for bearing with her, saying she was not worthy to be amongst us, etc. This continued until we were all perfectly sick of her, as we knew quite well by her other words and actions that she considered herself the best in the house. Sometimes she would bang her head purposely against the wall; in fact, she copied every saint, whose life she happened to be reading at the time, in his or her foolish actions, whilst if they did anything sensible, she left it out. St. Mary Magdalene of Piazzi, was her special favourite. Sister Wereburgh once planted a rotten cucumber, to see if our Lord would make it grow into a plant, which, of course, He did not, though she quite thought He would. This was in imitation of a St. Teresa, who, we read, once gave a rotten cucumber to one of her novices in order to test her obedience, desiring her to plant it in the garden. The novice obeyed without a question, when, in reward for her perfect obedience, a plant sprang from it, and bore fruit. This is one of the miracles recorded in the life of Saint Teresa. Sister Wereburgh would obtain leave to go without her dinner, and fast till tea-time, very often, but was desired to have some lunch, which would consist of dry bread. The Mother Superior at that time never asked her what lunch she had, but at last some of us found out that she had a good helping of bread and butter, and a good-sized cup of hot cocoa. She was housekeeper then, and thus had no difficulty in taking what she wanted. Thus she really had more than we did at dinner, which often consisted of two small sardines, three or four small potatoes, and half a slice of bread, thinly cut, and some water. As I do not wish to appear in the least vindictive, I will not now add more about this sister. She was the cause of distress to more persons than myself, though she managed to keep herself in favour with Father Ignatius, and became quite his model nun.