st man or the bravest
soldier? Think of it on a tempestuous night in winter. The lonely islet
rock, with the swift seas rushing around it; the castle half a ruin, its
guard-room empty, its banqueting hall roofless, its sally port silent;
then the cathedral church falling to decay; and under the floor of its
choir, where lie the graves of dead men, this black, grim, cold cell,
silent as the graves themselves, save for the roar of the sea as it
beats in the darkness on the rocks outside! But that is not enough.
We have to think of this gloomy pile as inhabited on such a night of
terrors by only one human soul--this poor, bedraggled, sin-laden woman
with "the defect of understanding." Can anything be more awful? Yet
there is worse to follow. The records tell us that Katherine Kinrade
submitted to her punishment "with as much discretion as could be
expected of the like of her." But such punishments do not cleanse the
soul that is "drenched with unhallowed fire." Perhaps Katherine did not
know that she was wronged; nevertheless God's image was being trodden
out of her. She went from bad to worse, became a notorious strumpet,
strolled about the island, and led "a scandalous life on other
accounts." A third child was born. Then the Bishop concluded that for
the honour of the Christian name, "to prevent her own utter destruction,
and for the example of others," a timely and thorough reformation must
be made by a further and severer punishment. It was the 15th day of
March, and he ordered that on the 17th day, being the fair of St.
Patrick, at the height of the market, the said Katherine Kinrade
should be taken to Peel Town in charge of the general sumner, and the
constables and soldiers of the garrison, and there dragged after a boat
in the sea! Think of it! On a bitter day in March this wretched woman
with the "defect of understanding" was to be dragged through the sea by
a rope tied to the tail of a boat! And if any owner, master, and crew of
any boat proved refractory by refusing to perform this service for the
restraining of vice, they were to be subject to fine and imprisonment!
When St. Patrick's Day came the weather was so stormy that no boat
could live in the bay, but on St. Germain's Day, about the height of the
market, the censure was performed. After undergoing the punishment the
miserable soul was apparently penitent, "according to her capacity,"
took the communion, and was "received into the peace of the Church."
Po