THEMANSION’S DAUGHTER
Thedarknessofsacredthoughts
SarahBulut
- THEMANSION’S DAUGHTER -
-The darkness of sacred thoughts-
Preface
Throughout centuries, people havealwaystried to find different ways to expresstheir deepest innerfeelings, andthere area tonof different ways to do so Art, dance, music, theatre, poetry,and film standasjusta handfulofthe diversemediums throughwhich people have endeavouredtoconveytheir innermostthoughtsand feelings.However,there exists yetanother avenue:Writing.Writing, throughout time,has served as asanctuary forexpressing sentiments andemotionsthatelude verbal explanation.
This book serves as atribute to theresilienceofsurvivors of the MagdaleneLaundries,the children whoendured abuse, andall thosewho lacked thestablesecurityessential forchildhood.Itis dedicatedtoindividuals of allagesand genderswho have suffered variousforms of abuse. My hope is that readersofthisbookwill gain adeeperunderstanding of theprofoundimpactofviolenceon shapinghuman lives.
This narrative is rooted in real-lifeexperiences,dreams, andactual events,offeringa testamenttothe complexity of thehuman condition.
-CHAPTER ONE- THESELECTION -
Thegloomyand damp autumnweather hadslowlybut surely come to Ireland. Theyearwas 1880,and theVictorian eraruled over Europe during this time.Duringthissociety,there were horsecarriages,Victorian-style architecture,puritanism, industrialism, inequality andespecially figgy pudding, whichwerepopular and very common.Insensibility, morality, and fidelity were,atleast to beginwith, theideal of themiddleclasses by this time.
Therainwas pouringdownlikehail, thesky wasgrey, coveredwith clouds,and thegroundwas almost floodedwithwater andmud.Itwas the middle of thenight as abig horsecarriagewithtwo blackFrieser horses trottedtowards abuilding. What kind of building, youmay wonder.Well, I will tell you. It wasa RomanCatholicmonastery that they hadmadeinto an orphanage. Andtobegin with youcan just imaginewhata Roman Catholic monasterylookedlikeinthe 19th century. Thehouse wasa huge grey,kindofworn-outbuildingmadeofstone bricks,itwas arather unpleasant sight. Thereweremanyfloors, andbig windowswhich didn't look liketheyhad been plasteredor cleanedfor awhile.Actually, it almost looked like an oldhaunted castle.Besidethe monastery, only afew feet away therewas anotherbuilding, it wasa chapel.You couldtell, because this building wasquite smallerthanthe monasteryitself. It wasmadeof brownstone bricks andthere were twohugecrosses on it,one thetop of theblack roof towerand oneontop of thedoortothe chapel.There wasa towerbellwhich rang threetimes aday when it wastimefor prayer and worship, andthere were severallarge square thin glasswindows built into thewalls.Thereweretwo doors, onewhich ledintothe chapel andone otherwhich ledintothe monastery, both of them were made of dark wood andtheywerelit by twolanternsthathungoneithersideofeachdoor.
Thecourtyard outsidethe monasterylay desolate,devoidofbenches, swings,orany semblanceofplaythingsfor thechildren. Only gravel paved theground, leadingthe eyetoa towering statue at itsheart.Here, Saint Mother Mary stoodinsereneprayer, herhands clasped andeyesclosedin devotion.The courtyardoutside thechapel, whilesmaller,appeared equally forsaken.Tallgrass mingledwithcolourful autumn leaves,their vibrancydulledbythe incessant rain anddampair.Trees andbushes struggledfor spaceamidstwitheredflowers andthorn-laden rose bushes, theironcevibrant blooms nowwiltedand lifeless. Thegarden, encased within tall blackironbars, remained inaccessible,the gate to thechapel firmly locked.
When thehorse carriage finallyarrived,a quitehandsomeman in his thirties,wearing ablack coat,a blacktop hat, anda cane,stepped outwith alittlehelpfromthe driver.You see, therewas so much mud, leaves,and water, so it wasquite difficultfor himtowalkand pass by thegatetothe monastery. He waswearing blackleather shoes, awhite tiesticking out from underhis suit,and whitegloves.
Theman walked towardsthe building,hewalkedonthe stonestaircase, as he knockedatthe huge door that rose menacingly over him. Thedoor creakeddisgruntled when,a fewmoments later, it wasopenedbyan abbess.
Theabbesswas an oldlady, maybeoversixty yearsofage.Since it was themiddleofthe night, shewas only wearingher whitenightdress, anda shawlonher head.She looked haughtyand pale,her face wastight withoutthe slightestsignofkindnessorclemency. Herfeatureswereso sharp, andher lips were so thin that it almost looked like shedidn’thave anymouth at all. Shelookedsurprised,suspicious, andevena bitscared when shesaw theman.Witha harshand unpleasant voice, shesaid:
- “I am sorry, butwedon't accept or take in anyvisitorsat themoment.”
Shethentried to closethe door rightinfront of him. Butwhenshe didso, themysteriousman stopped thedoorfromclosing,byputting hisfoot betweenitand thewall. Yousee,itwas uncommon forpeopletocome andvisit themonastery,and forthe past year it hadactuallybeenclosed foroutside people to come at all. In this monastery, they didn't want visitors,astheydidn'twantthe childrentobeengrossed in what was happeningoutside theconvent sincetheywantedthemtogrowupasthe children of God. Andthe children of Godwerenot apartofthe world, thereforetheyminimised theoutside worldfromthem, andeverythingthat wasinit.
Beingabletogotoa normal school,playlikenormalchildren, andtake part in different activities such as goingtothe theatre, dancing, listening to music, readingbooks,and socialisingwas notanoptionfor thesechildren. Theonlypeoplewhomtheymet andcametovisit were thepriestand the archbishop,but they only came on Sundaysand held worshipinthe chapel.Infact, thereusually weren’tmanyvisitorsbeforethe monastery closed theyearbeforeeither. Occasionally,a couple mightcomeand want to adopta child, butthatwas very unusual, andmoreand more often social governmentswould turn in more children to be takencareofbythe Catholic Church.The monasterywas farawayfromthe villageand thecity, as it waslocated farout in thecountryside,but during ChristmasorEaster, people used to come andattendthe church worshipmoreoften sincethe church organisedworshipsand otherholyeventsduringsuchtimes.The manstaredather,the oldabbesslookedsurprised when theman continued:
- “I am here to seethe children youhavefor adoption.”
Theman hada dark tone.Hemadethe abbess uncomfortablewithhis mysterious energy.She then said:
- “W-wellifyou arelooking fora boy, Iamafraidto disappoint you, we only…”
Shedidn'tfinishher sentence as theman interruptedher.
- “I am lookingfor agirl.”
Before theold abbess hadtimetothink of what he said,the mysterious manremoved hishat as he enteredthe long hallwayofthe orphanage.It wasa long anddarkhallway.Helookedaround, ironically saying:
- “Not much of afriendlyplace forchildrenI must say.”
Theabbessirritably closed andlockedthe door behind himwithout saying anything;there wasmorethanone lock on thedoor; therewereactually threelocks. Sheturnedaroundand gave themysteriousman an ice-cold look,and stared at him. Aftera fewseconds sheclapped herbothhands andthenthree,(much youngerI must say) nuns approached.She walked towardsthem, andwhispered somethingthatwas impossible to hear.After shewas done,the nuns fawned andbowed to herina ridiculous and exaggeratedway,because afterall, shewas theabbess, andonlyina few secondsthe youngernunsweregone. Shethenturnedaroundtothe man againand facedhim with asarcastic smile.
- “Welcome to St.Eudora'sMonastery,wewillmakesure youwillhavea look at thegirls.WhatshouldI call yousir?”
Theman turned around to face theabbess, he sighed andstaredather whilehesaid:
- “I am ProfessorArthurLewis Selambs. Call me Professorfor short.”
- “And Iassumethatyou arenot from around here...?”
- “Correct.”
- “Where areyou from,ifI mayask?”
- “That'snoneofyourbusiness.” he said ironically whilesmiling.
Mr Selambs, affectionately knownas"theProfessor," hailed from Ennis, thecountytownofCounty Clarenestled in thewestern reachesofIreland. He spenthis formativeyears in theopulent confinesofFilrayAbbey,a grandmansion bearingthe name ofhis esteemed ancestor,Filray Selambs. Blessedwitha childhoodofabundance andprivilege,Mr Selambsbaskedinthe warmthofhis family's affluenceand esteemed social standing.His father,GeorgeSelambs,renownedasthe "Earlof Ennis,"ensured theirprosperityuntil hisuntimelydemisefromtuberculosis when Mr Selambswas on thecuspofhis ninthyear. Tragedystruckagain when adevastating fire claimedthe livesofhis elderbrother Klausand his grief-stricken mother,Barbara,the Countess ofEnnis.Leftorphanedand vulnerable,MrSelambs foundhimself underthe guardianship ofthe Catholic Church,whichdeemedhim unfittomanageFilrayAbbey alone duetohis tender age. Consequently,hewas enrolled in therigorous confines of St.Joseph'sCatholic Boarding School forBoys, enduring a harrowingexistence marked by laborioustasks andthe harshhandof discipline.After enduring twoyears ofhardshipand maltreatment,Mr Selambsresolvedto escape theoppressive environment. With meticulous planning andunwaveringdetermination,heeventuallysucceeded in breaking free from theconfinesofthe school
Mr Selambsstood outamong hispeers as aremarkablyastuteyoung lad. Giftedwithhis father's intellectand hismother'scompassionate spirit,he navigatedthe challenges he facedbothbeforeand during histimeatthe school with remarkable resilience.Despite theadversities,he demonstrated hismaturityand capability,proving himselfworthyof inheriting hisfather'stitle andthe ancestralestate. As ayoung nobleman approachingthe ageofthirteen, Mr Selambs, againstthe objections of the Catholic Church,garneredthe supportoflocal authoritiestoreclaim his rightful place. Thearduous processfinally concluded, andFilray Abbey once againbecamehis sanctuary, hischildhood home restored to himat last.
Returningtothe same institutionyears later, Mr Selambsfound it transformedintoa Catholic nunneryand orphanagefor girls. With his reinstatementatFilrayAbbey,hebecamethe sole remainingmemberof theSelambs lineage, inheriting both theestateand itsaccompanying responsibilities.Bereftoffamilyorexternalassistance, he embarked on thedauntingtaskofmanagingthe vast householdata tender age. In addition to hisnewfoundobligations,MrSelambs foundhimself entrusted with asubstantial inheritance, alongsidehis father's scholarlypursuitsin literaryresearch. Graduating from school at theage of sixteen, he relocatedtoLuton,England,topursuehis father's studiesfurther.Itwas here,amidsthis academicendeavours, that he earned themoniker "the Professor" andacquireda grandmansion of hisown.
FollowingMrSelambs sardonic remark,heand theelderly abbess pivoted, striding toward thecornerwherethe othernunshad previously vanished, quicklydisappearingfromview. As they enteredthe next chamber, Mr Selambsgazefelluponthe statue of theVirginMarymounted on a pedestal,stirring memories from hispast. He caught hisbreath, surreptitiouslyloosening histie,attemptingtodispelthe unwelcome recollectionsfloodinghis mind.Imagesfromhis childhood surfaced,him kneeling in prayer,beseechingforgiveness before asaint whileenduring punishment forsinshehad notcommitted.
They ventured into anotherchamber,which branched offintothree additional rooms. Themonastery boastedlofty ceilings,indicativeofits expansivesize. Yet, theatmospherewithinwas chilling anddim.Each room they traversedrevealedlarge, dustywindows adorned with depictions of idols, saints,and crosses, occupyingevery availablespace alongthe walls.
In oneparticularlynotable room,a grandaltar stoodadorned with candles, candlesticks, anda sizablecross,while amajesticstatueofSaint Mother Mary cradling baby Jesuscommanded attention.