Awful Disclosures Containing, Also, Many Incidents Never before Published

ments in the Black N

nder-Superior's Manage

-Criminality of Concea

obtain access to the interior. It is well known, that none but veiled nuns, the bishop, and priests, are ever admitted; and, of course, that I cannot have seen what I profess to describe, if I have not been a Black nun. [Footnote: I ought to have made an exception here, which I may enlarge upon in future Certain other persons are sometimes admitted.] The priests who read this book, will acknowledge to themselves the truth of my description; but will, of course deny it to the world, and probably exert the

ng description, then I can claim no confidence of my readers. If it resembles it, they will, I presume, place

; and I have been credibly informed, that masons have been employed in the nunnery since I left it. I well know, however, that enti

irst

mity of the right wing

t, on the first

building, extending from the upper story to the ground, with very small windows. Into t

y at the farther end, for washing the hands and face, with a green curtain sliding on a rod before it. This passage leads to the old nuns' sleeping-room on the right, and the S

of little pictures, a crucifix, and a small image of the infant Saviour in a glass case. This apartment has four doors, by the

tables for sewing, and a staircase

of conscience, which I had visited while a novice by permission of the Superior, and where nuns and novices occasionally resorted to reflect on their character, usuall

r Sundays. A door leads to the yard, and then

street, with two windows, and a store-room on the side oppo

on the Saviour's passion. This room projects from the main building; leaving it, you enter a long passage, with cupboards on the right, in which are stored crockery-ware, k

persons were often admitted on business, or to obtain medicines with tickets from the priests; and waited till the Superior or an o

econd

e same wing, but on the second story, the farthest a

he first story. The stairs by which we came up to bed are at the farther end of the room; and near them a crucifix and font of holy water.

ircase, seldom used, which leads into the fourth community-room, in the

above to the floor below, without any communication with the second story. This room has a door opening upon a staircase leading down to the yard, on the opposite side of which is a gate opening into the cross street. By this way the physician is admitted, except when he comes later than usual. When he comes in, h

figure of the infant Saviour, with several sheep. Near the northeastern corner of this room are two doors, one of which opens into a long and narrow passage leading to the head of the great staircase that conducts to the cross street. By this passage the physician sometimes finds his way to the sick-room, when he comes later than usual. He rings th

alf divided by two partial partitions, which leave an open space in

imes prepared by an old nun, who is usually found there. Passing through this room, you enter a passage with doors on its four sides: that o

mattresses, in that room, as I well knew, having helped to carry them in after the yard-man had filled them. A door beyond enters into a sto

amined before their introduction into the sick-room last mentioned. Another door,

, sometimes used to store apples

to the gate, we enter the only remaining door, which leads into an apartmen

n one of which those nuns stay who are waiting their a

fants previous to their murder. A passage leads from this room, on the left, b

," or room occupied by the priests, while su

the passage leads to two rooms, containing closets for the storage of vario

nto the nunnery; and I have often seen some of them thereabouts, who must have entered by that way. Indeed, priests often get into the "holy retreat" without exposing

ed, and her heart is kept, under the nunnery, in an iron chest, which has been shown to me, with the assurance that it continues in perfect preservation, although she has bee

into our community-rooms, while numbers of us were assembled t

issue of falsehoods, she had just invented, that we might be prepared to fabricate circumstances, and throw in whatever else mig

l, that the introduction of another novice into the Convent as a veiled nun, caused the introduction of a veiled nun into h

nt voice and aspect, would commence a recital of things most favorable to the character of the absent novice, and representing her as equally fond of her situation, and beloved by the other inmates. The tale told by th

ighly accomplished, or to relieve herself of what would have been a serious burden to most other persons, or to ascertain whether she could depend up

I had almost said many a sermon; and I was led to believe that it was one of great importance, one on which it was a duty to be well informed,

a lie told for the good of the church or Convent, was meritorious, and of course the telling of it a duty. And of this class of lies there were many varieties and shades. This doctrine has been inculcated on me and my companions in the nunnery, more times than I can enumerate: and to say t

which she more frequently reli

fused an interview, on some account or other, generally a mere pretext; and then the Superior usually sought to make as favorable an impression as possible on

o us the task of deceiving, and we were commen

sent were hurried off with her under strict injunctions to uphold her in every thing she might state. The Superior, as there was every reason to believe, on all such occasions, when she did not herself appear, hastened to the apartment adjoining that in which the nuns were going, there to listen through the thin partition, to hear whether all performed their parts aright. It was not uncommon for her to go rather further, when she wanted time to give such explanations as she could have desired.

to it." The latter part of the order, at least, was always performed; for in every such case, all the

that we were performing solemn duties to our Maker, but every thing else which was required of us, we were constantly told, was something indispensable in his sight. The priests, we admitted were the servants of God, specially appointed by his authority, to teach us our duty, to absolve us from sin, and to lead us to heaven. Without their assistance, we had allowed we could never enjoy the favour of God; unless they administered the sacraments to us, we could not enjoy everlasting happiness. Having consented to acknowledge all this, we had no other objection to urge against

performing some duty "for the God." This peculiar expression had something ridiculous to the ears of some of us; and it was soon repeated again and again, in application to various ceremonies which we had to perform. Mad Jane Ray seized upon it with avidity, and with her aid it soon took the place of a by-word in conversation, so that we were constantly reminding each other, that we were doing this and that thing, how trifling and unm

keep a strict and constant watch over our thoughts; to have continually before our minds the rules of the Convent, to compare the one with the other, remember every devotion, and tell all, even the smallest, at confession, e

led to pray for the peace of her soul, when she appeared, and informed them, that it would be of no use, but rather troublesome to her, as her pardon was impossible. [Footnote: Since the first edition, I have found this tale related in a Romish book, as one

which opposes it, were also impressed upon our minds, in various ways, by

abourer. He worked all day with the fire burning in him, unseen by other people; but while he was in bed that night, a girl in an adjoining room, perceiving the smell of brimstone, looked through a crack in the wall, and saw him covered with flames. She informed his master, who questioned him the next morning, and f

in my heart, but would not tell, because it was necessary for me to confess it. I really believed that the priests were acquai