The golden morning sun forced its way through the leaded windows of the convent casting bright rays across the cold, stone corridors. Sister Marguerite moved quickly to the farthest end of the convent, slicing the light rays with her robust figure as she moved.
The Abbey was almost 100 years old, commissioned by King Charles VII in 1442. King Charles said that he was the patron of the Church and had great respect for the Carmelite Order and their contributions to Loudun. Initially, there was a convent, a chapel, and quarters for the Brothers. In the back of the convent, there was a barn and a few out-buildings. A church and perimeter wall had been added in the early 1500s.
Currently the Abbey was run by an Englishman, Brother Ian Hargrove, the Abbot. There were three other Brothers, each with their own area of responsibility. Mother Superior Francis oversaw twelve nuns in the Order and managed the orphanage, which was also added after the initial buildings. When one was in the presence of the Mother Superior, despite the layers of robes that made up her habit, it was obvious that she was of a very diminutive stature. She was born in Austria and belong to a convent in the small town of Leizen, at the base of the Alps. When she was young, she contracted the one-hundred-day cough which damaged her lungs and stunted her growth. The Order in Leizen recommended that she take an assignment in southern France, where the climate might prove more conducive to the health of her lungs. That is what brought her to the Abbey in Loudun.
Mother Superior had called for the young Dominique, following Terce, which were morning prayers. Once the psalms were read each morning the nuns would be given first voice since the previous evenings forced silence.
Sister Marguerite opened the door of the tiny cell where Dominique had spent the remainder of the night, finding her perched on the edge of the austere bed. One look at the dark circles under the child’s eyes told her that she had neither slept nor ceased crying since Marguerite had left her. “Come along, child,” she bustled about, “Mother Superior is waiting to see you this morning. She is not well pleased with the unceremonious fashion in which your guardian disposed of you last evening.” Marguerite took note of a quiet dignity about the girl and was heartened to see a wan smile cross her face as she stood up from the bed. Straightening her shoulders, Dominique prepared, with a sense of resignation, to go meet her uncertain future.
Bowing her head slightly, she followed Sister Marguerite down the long corridor leading to Mother Superior’s office. The room where this shepherdess of the Order handled many of her everyday tasks, was small and dark. Her desk was near one small window that doled out light meagerly. The heavy mahogany wood surface of the desk was covered with books, a quill and ink well and most notably a leather-bound Bible, Mother Superior’s treasured possession.
As Sister Marguerite gently knocked on the already open door, Mother Superior looked up from her prayers and gently placed her rosary beads beside her Bible. “Ah, Mademoiselle DuBois, bonjour”, began this woman who held Dominique’s future in her hands. Trying desperately to find her voice, Dominique replied weakly, “good morning, Mother Superior.” She combined this with a quick genuflection to show her respect.
“You were deposited here at a very late hour last evening after our silence had begun – rather regrettable, as I wished to have had the opportunity to speak with your guardian, Monsieur Cannard.” Dominique looked down at the cold gray-green slate floor feeling apologetic for a situation over which she had no control. Moving to the front of the desk, Mother Superior now faced Dominique. This woman, despite an imposing aura, was much smaller than Dominique had expected. “It seems it must suffice for me to discuss with you alone life here in our Order. Let’s begin by kneeling, child.” She instructed. Dominique dropped to her knees taking note of how cold the slate was through the worn fabric of her dress.
Sister Marguerite reentered the room with a tray of tea and biscuits for Mother Superior as she launched into a history of the Carmelite Order and their philosophies. Keeping Dominique in the kneeling position, Mother Superior handed her a tea cup and said, “Hold my tea cup for me, would you, dear, while it cools. I cannot abide scalding tea.”
Becoming increasingly uncomfortable on the hard floors, Dominique quivered slightly as she tried to hold the tea cup without spilling. “Where were we?” lectured Mother Superior, “Ah yes, life in our Order. We have rules, child, which we live by and which you will be expected to follow as long as you reside in our orphanage. Our day begins at dawn. Our evening silence continues until 9 am when our morning services begin with the reading of psalms. Your life will revolve around the constancy of prayer. We hear Mass each morning in the oratory of the community.” Pausing slightly Mother Superior’s tone was sharp. “Do not put my cup down until I am ready to drink it.” The pain, although not evident on her face, caused Dominique to shake slightly making a tinkling sound of the cup against the saucer.
She continued, “We take our vows of poverty and toil very seriously. You will renounce all your belongings, we will provide you with suitable clothing. It is through hard work and prayer that you will find God. And, young lady, it is our job to put you on the path of righteousness.” Dominique’s hand began to tremble as the weight of the pottery cup began to take a toll. “You will abstain from the consumption of meat. And you will be expected to work in our gardens at the Abbey. You will also be expected to pursue your studies. Daily silence begins after vespers and continues until Terce the following morning. You will fill your time with contemplative prayer or study of your Bible during silence. Not one sound must exit your lips.” As Mother Superior was finishing her lecture, her tone took on an icy quality. She stared at Dominique with a look so cold as to slice through to her soul. “In his letter of introduction, Monsieur Cannard alluded to a gift from God which he claimed you possess. On this subject, let me be perfectly clear. If you are seeing or hearing anything, it is straight from the devil and I will silence that evil voice, if it is the last thing I do. You will do penance and we will all pray that God takes pity on your miserable soul – do we have an understanding?”
Two silent rivers of tears coursed down Dominique’s cheeks as she nodded her head in understanding. Mother Superior took the cup then from her shaking hand and in a syrupy sweet tone that belied her previous venom, “thank you, my dear, my tea is just the perfect temperature. You are dismissed.”
As Mother Superior turned away from Dominique, Sister Marguerite swept in to help the girl to her feet. She knew full well that her legs would not cooperate in standing at this point. Staggering to her feet, Dominique limped down the corridor on the solid arm of Sister Marguerite.