Awful Disclosures, Maria Monk [best motivational books TXT] 📗

appearance, among those who called at the house, and urged for permission to see me. Said she, “I have heard dreadful things are told by a nun you have here, against the priests; and I have to convince myself of the truth. I want to see the nun you have got in your house.” When informed that I was unwell, and not inclined at present to see any more strangers, she still showed much disposition to obtain an interview. “Well, ain’t it too bad,” she asked, “that there should be any reason for people to say such things against the priests?” At length she obtained admittance to the room where I was, entered with eagerness, and approached me.

“Arrah,” she exclaimed, “God bless you—is this you? Now sit down, and let me see the child. And is it Father Phelan’s, God bless you? But they say you tell about murders; and I want to know if they are all committed by the Irish priests.” “Oh no,” replied I, “by no means.” “Then God bless you,” said she. “If you will live in Montreal, you shall never want. I will see that neither you nor your child ever want, for putting part of the blame upon the French priests. I am going to Father Phelan, and I shall tell him about it. But they say you are an evil spirit. I want to know whether it is so or not.” “Come here,” said I, “feel me, and satisfy yourself. Besides, did you ever hear of an evil spirit having a child?”

I heard from those about me, that there was great difficulty in finding a magistrate willing to take my affidavit I am perfectly satisfied that this was owing to the influence of the priests to prevent my accusations against them from been made public. One evening a lawyer, who had been employed for the purpose, accompanied me to a French justice with an affidavit ready prepared in English, for his signature, and informed him that he wished him to administer to me the oath. Without any apparent suspicion of me, the justice said, “Have you heard of the nun who ran away from the Convent, and has come back to the city, to bear witness against the priests?” “No matter about that now,” replied the lawyer hastily; “I have no time to talk with you—you will take this person’s oath now or not?” He could not read a word of the document, because it was not in his own language, and soon placed his signature to the bottom. It proved, however, that we had gained nothing by this step, for the lawyer afterward informed us, that the laws required the affidavit of a nun or minor to be taken before a superior magistrate.

CHAPTER XXX.

Interview with the Attorney General of the Province—Attempt to abduct me—More interviews—A mob excited against me—Protected by two soldiers—Convinced that an investigation of my charges could not be obtained—Departure from Montreal—Closing reflections.

Those who had advised to the course to be pursued, had agreed to lay the subject before the highest authorities. They soon came to the conviction that it would be in vain to look for any favour from the Governor, and resolved to lay it before the Attorney General as soon as he should return from Quebec. After waiting for some time, he returned; and I was informed, in a few days, that he had appointed an interview on the following morning. I went at the time with a gentleman of the city, to the house of Mr. Grant, a distinguished lawyer. In a short time a servant invited us to walk up stairs, and we went; but after I had entered a small room at the end of the parlour, the door was shut behind me by Mr. Ogden, the Attorney General. A chair was given me, which was placed with the back towards a bookcase, at which a man was standing, apparently looking at the books; and besides the two persons I have mentioned, there was but one more in the room, [Footnote: Unless another was concealed—as I suspected.] Mr. Grant, the master of the house. Of the first part of the interview I shall not particularly speak.

The two legal gentlemen at length began a mock examination of me, in which they seemed to me to be actuated more by a curiosity no way commendable, than a sincere desire to discover the truth, writing down a few of my answers. In this, however, the person behind me took no active part. One of the questions put to me was, “What are the colours of the carpet in the Superior’s room?”

I told what they were, when they turned to him, and inquired whether I had told the truth. He answered only by a short grunt of assent, as if afraid to speak, or even to utter a natural tone; and at the same time, by his hastiness, showed that he was displeased that my answer was correct. I was asked to describe a particular man I had seen in the nunnery, and did so. My examiner partly turned round with some remark or question which was answered in a similar spirit. I turned and looked at the stranger, who was evidently skulking to avoid my seeing him, and yet listening to every word that was said. I saw enough in his appearance to become pretty well satisfied that I had seen him before; and something in his form or attitude reminded me strongly of the person, whose name had been mentioned. I was then requested to repeat some of the prayers used in the nunnery, and repeated part of the office of the Virgin, and some others.

At length, after I had been in the little room, as I should judge, nearly an hour, I was informed that the examination had been satisfactory, and that I might go.

I then returned home; but no further step was taken by the Attorney General, and he refused, as I understood, to return my affidavit, which had been left in his hands to act upon.

Besides the persons I have mentioned, I had interviews with numbers of others. I learnt from some, that Father Phelan addressed his congregation a second time concerning me, and expressly forbade them to speak to me if they should have an opportunity, on pain of excommunication. It was also said, that he prayed for the family I lived with, that they might be converted.

I repeated to several different persons my willingness to go into the nunnery, and point out visible evidences of the truth of my statements; and when I was told, by one man, who said he had been to the priests, that I had better leave the city, or I would be clapped into prison, I made up my mind that I should like to be imprisoned a little while, because then, I thought I could not be refused a public examination.

Some Canadians were present one day, when the mistress of the house repeated, in my presence, that I was ready to go into the nunnery if protected, and, if I did not convince others of the truth of my assertions, that I would consent to be burned.

“O yes, I dare say,” replied one of the men—“the devil would take her off—she knows he would. He would take care of her—we should never be able to get her—the evil spirit!”

A woman present said—“I could light the fire to burn you, myself.”

A woman of Montreal, who has a niece in the nunnery, on hearing of what I declared about it, said that if it was true she would help tear it down.

Among those who came to see me, numbers were at first as violent as any I have mentioned, but after a little conversation, became mild and calm.

I have heard persons declare, that it would be no harm to kill me, as I had an evil spirit.

One woman told me, that she had seen Father Phelan in the street, talking with a man, to whom he said, that the people were coming to tear down the house in which I stayed, intending afterward to set fire to it in the cellar. This story gave me no serious alarm, for I thought I could see through it evidence of an intention to frighten me, and make me leave the city. [Footnote: I felt very confident, from some circumstances, that this woman had been sent to bring such a story by Father Phelan; and such evidence of his timidity rather emboldened me. I was in another room when she came, and heard her talking on and abusing me; then coming out, I said, “How dare you say I do not speak the truth?” “God bless you,” said she, “sit down and tell me all.”] I was under great apprehensions, however, one day, in consequence of an accidental discovery of a plan laid to take me off by force. I had stepped into the cellar to get an iron-holder, when I heard the voices of persons in the street above, and recognised those of my mother and the Irish woman her friend. There was another woman with them.

“You go in and lay hold of her,” said one voice.

“No, you are her mother—you go in and bring her out—we will help you.”

I was almost overcome with dread of falling into their hands, believing that they would deliver me up to the Superior. Hastening into a room, I got behind a bed, told the lady of the house the cause of my fear, and calling to a little girl to bring me my child, I stood in a state of violent agitation. Expecting them in the house every instant, and fearing my infant might cry, and so lead them to the place of my concealment, I put my hand upon its mouth to keep it quiet.

It was thought desirable to get the testimony of the mistress of the house where I spent the night after my escape from the nunnery, as one means of substantiating my story. I had been there the day before my visit to the house of Mr. Grant, accompanied by a friend, and on my first inquiring of her about my nunnery dress, she said she had carried it to the Superior; speaking with haste, as if she apprehended I had some object very different from what I actually had. It now being thought best to summon her as a witness before a magistrate, and not knowing her whole name, we set off again towards her house to make inquiry.

On our way we had to pass behind the parade. I suddenly heard an outcry from a little gallery in the rear of a house which fronts another way, which drew my attention. “There’s the nun!” exclaimed a female, after twice clapping her hands smartly together, “There’s the nun, there’s the nun!”

I looked up, and whom should I see but the Irishwoman, who had taken so active a part, on several occasions in my affairs, on account of her friendship for my mother—the same who had accompanied me to Longeuil in a boat, when I set out for New York, after making arrangements for my journey. She now behaved as if exasperated against me to the utmost; having, as I had no doubt, learnt the object of my journey to Montreal since I had last spoken with her, and having all her Catholic prejudices excited. She screamed out: “There’s the nun that’s come to swear against our dear Father Phelan. Arrah, lay hold, lay hold upon her!

Catch her, kill her, pull her to pieces.”

And so saying she hurried down to the street, while a number of women, children, and some men, came running out, and pursued after me. I immediately took to flight, for I did not know what they might do; and