Chapter Twenty-Seven - Unfurling

The Priory had been shaken by the events of the previous weeks. All around the convent nuns gathered to speculate and discuss Father Cornelis and his predilections. The Mother thought there was far too much discussion. In prayers she asked for all unnecessary conversation to cease and for the nuns to concentrate on worship and work. The Abbot and the Prioress were known to have held several meetings. In discreet corners, in the kitchen, stables, and day room, the Mother’s injunctions could not halt the interest in any consequences.

The result would be announced in a special meeting after Terce one cold rainy day in the week leading up to Anne’s reception into the community. Anne and Winifred were among the large group of nuns and servant nuns who went from breakfast to the Chapter house and found places to sit, if weak, like Sister Gertrude with her age, and Sister Geneviève with her pregnancy, while the rest stood, patiently waiting for the Mother to tell them what had been decided.

Anne could see the Mother wasn’t happy as she made her way into the room. Sister Blandine and Sister Colette followed her with a chair from the office and the Mother seated herself at the head of the Chapter House and led her nuns in three Hail Marys: “Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death.”

Everyone said, ‘Amen.’ Then the Mother began her news. Apparently, the Abbot had decided the edicts of the Council of Trent must be now obeyed to the letter. From hence forward the Priory front gates would always be locked. But the greatest imposition the Priory of Sainte Scholastique would have to bear was the nuns would no longer be able to have a stall in the market. Anne and Winifred looked at each other and many of the other nuns gasped. Anne saw Sister Beatrix nod. This was indeed serious. They needed an income to buy goods they could not make themselves, specifically those such as paper, vellum and inks; ale, meat, and fish.

The Mother waited for the reaction to die down. Then she revealed the bailiff would still collect their rents and be able to pass that income to the porter nuns, but Armaud could no longer visit on a weekly basis. They would not be able to sell their fruit and vegetables, bread and biscuits to the village and passing travellers. The Mother appealed to the community to think how they could best live in this new world, a stricter world, but one in which they would be more protected.

The Mother added that at this stage no decision had been made as to who would take confession or deliver the Eucharist to the nuns until Father Vincent returned but she assured the nuns that the Abbot was taking the matter very seriously. The priest chosen would be suitable and well-trained. She added she would expect any nun with concerns, large or small, to report them to her or to Sister Beatrix or Sister Matildé without expectation of punishment. It was better to catch small doubts at their inception than watch disasters unfold.

Again, the Mother allowed reaction to ripple through her audience, noting that Sister Beatrix and Sister Matildé had gone to either side of Sister Geneviève to support her. Now, the Mother changed her mood and allowed a small, if not quite a smile, a non-frown, to appear on her round face. She was pleased to announce there would be a special symbolic moment before this Saturday’s mass. Not only was it the festival of the Immaculate Conception, but it was also the day of welcoming the priory’s new novices. A day of new beginnings. Here the Mother smiled at Anne and Winifred, standing together near the mural of the judge Deborah directing her troops into battle.

The Abbot had agreed, in view of recent trouble, December the eighth would also be a Day of Mercy and the Door of Forgiveness would be opened. The entire community of nuns would walk out of the front door of the Priory and in through the main ritualistic door of the church. They would then process into the nuns’ choir and the grille would be closed behind them as a symbolic gesture of renewed enclosure.

Anne watched as the nuns glanced at each other and found there were many smiles. It would be a ritual symbolising their own forgiveness as well as mercy for those who may have slipped into sin. There was much for which to be grateful and the nuns left the Chapter House with a feeling of satisfaction and pleasant anticipation. Most agreed that the past needed to be placed firmly behind them and their new future examined carefully. In the time before the bells went for Terce, many of the nuns walked the cloisters, thinking, or talking to each other in small groups about what could be done to ensure their produce found buyers. Only Sister Colette and Marie Therese clouded the atmosphere by their frowns and disapproving looks. It seemed neither Sister Geneviève’s pregnancy, nor her easy admittance to childcare work, was admired by these two. Anne hoped their journey through the Door of Forgiveness might assist them to find peace in their hearts.

In one of the few remaining days before Anne and Winifred took the veil, they met with the Mother to discover how their lives would change. They sat on one side of the long table in her outer office, the one with the high windows and the portraits of pale, still children. The Mother sat in the middle of the other side of the table, directly across from them. Sister Beatrix was seated in the inner office, working at her accounting books, but within hearing. No doubt, thought Anne, she’d be worried as to how the Priory could survive without their market income.

The Mother greeted them kindly and smiled before commencing to speak to them on matters she was sure they’d already covered in their classes with Sister Gertrude. On becoming novices, they would separate from not only families but also memories and things. There would be no memories of former life.

The Mother looked at Winifred. ‘Are you able to bring your doll back to my office, daughter?’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘Did she bring you comfort?’

‘Yes, thank you, Mother.’

‘I’m glad, my child. I’m pleased you allowed her to bring you to us.’

They would give up liberty, memory, and personal will. They were to devote themselves entirely and unquestioningly to Jesus Christ.

And Winifred was to be moved to a separate cell. Anne had grown used to the presence of her friend. She looked quickly at Winifred, and both were serious, turning their attention back to the older woman as the Mother continued to speak. The Priory would become silent or at least words used should be considered and be necessary. The Mother also gave both Anne and Winifred a choice of changing their names. She pointed out that, as they were both named after Saints, they had the option of keeping their Christian names if they so desired. Further name changes would occur on their final professions.

While they considered this, she reached beneath her outer robe, and withdrew two small hempen knotted ropes. These she handed over the desk to both girls. The girls looked down at their ropes, mystified, but accepting. These were to be used in private to punish themselves for misdemeanours. The Mother looked at each of them. ‘The focus of your lives is Jesus Christ. You must develop into perfect souls for your meeting with him in heaven. This is what you must attend to now and for every day in your future.’

When she released them from her office, Anne took Winifred’s hand in a gesture of friendship before letting go. They stood, smiling at each other. This would be an adventure. Now their journey was inward and private. Their own personal relationship with God would become the focus of their lives.

When Anne returned to her cell she went to pray at her little altar. She felt the knotted rope tucked into her belt and pulled it out for examination. She laid it down on the small altar, beside her breviary. She reached out a tentative finger and stroked the knots. Then she held it by the end and swung it through the air. Slowly at first and then faster as though she were Gustav conducting the chorus. She held her left palm out and swung the rope down, stopping at once when she realised how much it stung. Then she swung the rope behind her, over her shoulder. She realised she had to flick her wrist to reach it to her back. It tangled up with her veil and she could not feel it through her tunic. She pulled one end through her fingers and held the other end still as she considered how she would punish herself. She put it back down on the altar. Once she was a novice, she promised herself, she would carry it always. Just in case there might be the need to feel something.

Although the Abbot presided over the mass for the Immaculate Conception, the Mother spoke the homily. She seemed to speak directly to the two postulants who were to be admitted into priory life.

The Mother smiled at the nuns lined up in the choir on her side of the grille and then looked out into the nave of the elegant church, speaking to the population of the village and the local area. She said, ‘The life of a novice is not a refuge from the world. It is an unnatural life. An unearthly life. The utmost desire of a nun’s life is to be united with our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. A nun may be asked to do impossible things for the sake of our husband to be, Jesus. And we will do all that we can for the love that is greater than any love known on earth. We can endure hardship and sacrifice for the love of Jesus Christ. To come closer to unity, humility and the Holy Rule, we must watch ourselves constantly for lack of perfection. If we make any mistake, we must chastise ourselves, and we must be open to being corrected by the other sisters.’

At this point Anne remembered the hempen knots lying on her private altar. How much correction should she bring upon herself? How much correction would be brought to her by others? She looked under her lashes at Sister Colette and Marie Therese. Both sticklers looked straight at the Mother who continued to speak. ‘And it might be that a transgression goes unnoticed or unremarked by the sisters or even by the individual concerned. But do not doubt that God sees everything. In this house we follow the Holy Rule of Saint Benedict, as helped, and supported by his brilliant sister Saint Scholastica, and we invite all our nuns to pray to Jesus Christ our Beloved Lord to love and care for the entire community of Templemars and our surrounding neighbours.’

Mijnheer Gustav burst the organ into life and the church filled with vibration and curling sound. Anne was moved by the pulses and echoes through the heights and curves of the building as she and the rest of the nuns’ chorus sang the ‘Te Deum’. The Abbot was pleased to grant all in attendance a Plenary Indulgence if they performed a good work in the next week.

And so, with the clanging shut of the grille, Anne became a novice in the loving embrace of the feast of Immaculate Conception. As the Holy Virgin Mother of God was cleansed from all sin at the moment of her conception, Anne was also cleansed and ready to begin her new life afresh. She had been away from the orphans for almost a year. Now her future lay in the Mother House and in her relationship to God. For the next two years she would test her commitment to God and to her community. Then she would make her final profession to keep her vows of Chasity, Poverty and Obedience. Anne knew that during her life as a nun she might stumble on her vows at times, but she was most wary of Obedience.

She and Winifred came forward to the group of nuns that waited by the vestry, holding their new habits. She knelt beside her friend while Marie Therese cut her hair. The hair was placed in a basket with a crucifix on top of the glossy gold bundle. Winifred’s brown hair was much longer and filled her basket completely. When they removed their simple black dresses, Sister Matildé presented each with the long brown tunic which was belted by a simple leather belt. Then the scapular, a kind of straight apron with front and back joined at the shoulders, went over their heads. This was the sign of obedience. Anne had heard it called the yoke of Christ. It was never to be removed. The white wimple went over her head down to cover the shoulders and throat and that was covered by the white veil of the novice, expertly pinned by the seniors. Because it was winter the nuns were allowed to wear the black cuculla, a thick pleated gown with deep sleeves and Anne felt warmer as the folds fell around her body.

When she returned to her cell that evening after Compline the extra bed was gone and with it the warmth and familiarity of her friend, Winifred. But, thought Anne, that wouldn’t stop them being together in so far as obedience to the Mother Prioress would allow, of course.

Anne prayed at her prie-dieu and took up the knotted rope. She tied it to her leather belt, on the opposite side to her rosary, and tucked it under her scapular so it would remain unseen. She could feel the five knots, a reminder of her need to be obedient.

That night Anne felt guided to stay in the church after Nocturnes. As she had just sworn to obey the Holy Roman Church, she wanted to spend time to experience that physical church by herself. She could see the space by the light of the yellow stellate moon diffused through the thick glass. She wondered what Winifred was doing. She felt alone yet she also felt that as a new nun she needed to show God her willingness to be devout. She wanted to prove to God that she truly was prepared to do his bidding.

Anne knelt respectfully in front of the altar. She felt she should lie on the floor, and she stretched out to her full length, face down on the cold stone, feeling the winter through the rock and feeling alive and prepared to give her all to God. She prayed to the Virgin Mary, feeling her rosary slide through her fingers, and when she began, ‘Hail Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy … ’ she was neither afraid nor surprised when a spark of her soul filled with radiance and the Glory of God, blessed be his name for ever, revealed to her she would profess to be a bride of Christ for eternity. At that moment she knew beyond certainty she was meant to live a life of contemplation and prayer. She knew that certain truths of the greatness of the interior light she saw now meant she was welcomed by God and the Blessed Virgin, and she lay sobbing on the ground. She heard a male voice say, ‘Be not afraid. I am here with you.’

After a time, the glory faded from her heart, but she still lay there, willing the wonder to return, wondering how best she should explain it to Winifred, or the Mother, and indeed if she could. Was this not a personal vision for herself? Might they even doubt her? Who was she? Anne de Breuil. Little Anne de Breuil. A nothing. A nobody. Why would God send her this vision? Eventually the cold floor sent her to her feet, and she returned to her pew in the choir and listened to the rustling of something she supposed might be a mouse near the altar.

When the bells for Morning sounded, she rose to her feet and took her place in the choir as the other nuns filed in and, after the prayers, returned to her cell. She fell into bed exhausted and slept until Prime. She woke with such joy in her heart, such a readiness to serve, she was not prepared for her first job as novice nun. She was to shift the guano from under the dovecote and take it to spread over the winter vegetable garden. Feeling her vision of the Glory of God had not quite prepared her to dig dirt, she knew her obedience was observed closely. She set about the work as willingly as she could, retching with the acrid stench as she dug.