THE STORY OF THE MARTYRS.
"God the Father, give us grace
To walk in the light of Jesu's Face.
God the Son, give us a part,
In the hiding place of Jesu's Heart.
God the Spirit, so hold us up,
That we may drink of Jesu's Cup."
They were five in number. Their names were Berard, Peter, Otho,
Adjutorius, and Accurtius. When they first started out for Morocco, a
sixth, Vital, was with them, but at an early stage of the journey he
fell sick, and rather than the mission should be delayed on his
account he insisted on their leaving him behind. He never recovered,
but died about the same time as his brothers were martyred.
About these martyrs historians are divided in their minds. Some say
that they were foolish and extreme and courted persecution, others
declare that they were animated by the Holy Ghost, and others that it
was a part of God's great plan for the encouraging of the Franciscan
movement. Certain it is, that in their case, the blood thus spilled
was fruitful, and brought to life rich fruit, and we have no doubt
that to-day they are among that mighty throng who are clothed in white
raiment, and bear palms in their hands, who on earth "counted not
their life dear to them." The memory of such souls is always fragrant,
and supreme love, even though it may appear ill-regulated, is better
than a tepid affection which is unworthy the name.
The five travelled by way of Portugal, where they were well received.
At Seville they stopped in the house of a Christian merchant for eight
days, which time they spent in prayer. At the end of the eight days
they informed the gentleman why they had come, and further said that
they were about to commence a little preaching in Seville. Seville was
at this period in the hands of the Moors. The poor merchant was
utterly horrified at their proposals, he threw every obstacle in their
way, telling them that they would do no good, and only make it hard
for the Christian merchants who were allowed to trade there! Needless
to say, such worldly reasoning had no effect upon the disciples of
Francis.
[Sidenote: _Preaching in at Mosque._]
Their first attempt was, of all places, in a mosque! While the Moors
were engaged in devotion one day, they were electrified to hear a loud
voice proclaim to them Jesus Crucified. They immediately rose up and
drove the intruders out with blows and curses. The five next repaired
to a larger mosque, and sought to obtain a hearing there. Again they
were thrown out. Then a brilliant idea occurred to the leader, Berard.
"We will go to the King," he said. "If we gain him, the victory over
the others will be easy!"
In spite of all difficulties, they managed to gain admission to the
Court, and present their plea. The King was enraged at their audacity,
and ordered them to be scourged and beheaded, which was the summary
mode in which justice was dealt out in that era. If it had not been
for the intercession of the King's son, this sentence would have been
carried into effect, as it was they were taken away and imprisoned in
a tower.
A few hours later all Seville gathered to see a strange sight! There,
on top of the prison tower, stood the five, brown-robed, bare-footed
strangers, singing with all their might praises to the one true God!
They were then taken and thrust into the darkest and deepest dungeon.
But as solitary confinement was unknown then, they found that they had
a congregation all ready to listen to them, and, as long as they
stayed there, they never ceased to preach repentance to the prisoners.
They were not left in prison very long. The King sent for them again,
and began by coaxing them to leave off preaching. He promised them
riches and honor, if they would only stop talking about Jesus Christ.
They thanked him courteously, and Berard said--
"Would to God, noble prince, you would show mercy to yourself! You
need it more than we do. Treat us as you will, you can, at the utmost,
only deprive us of life, and that is a matter of little moment to us
who hope for eternal joys!"
What to do with these strange men the King did not know! Their courage
and heroism he could not but admire, still they were very dangerous.
After a consultation with his officers, they decided that the best
thing to be done was to get them quietly out of the country.
Accordingly they were placed in a vessel bound to Morocco. This exile
filled the five with joy! At last they were to begin work in an
infidel country!
[Sidenote: _Don Pedro._]
Now, Don Pedro, the brother of King Alphonso of Portugal, a nominal
Christian, had had some kind of a dispute with the King, in consequence
of which he had come to live in Morocco. Notwithstanding his Christianity,
he had been placed at the head of a Mussulman army. To him the
missionaries repaired. By this time their personal appearance was
anything but improved. Suffering and imprisonment had done their work,
their faces were wan and thin, and their garments were all but in rags.
Nevertheless, Don Pedro received them kindly, and promised to befriend
them. He warned them against being too extreme, cautioned them to
moderation, and begged that they would not expose themselves to danger.
But Don Pedro knew nothing about that love, which is as fire in the
bones, and is strong as death; so strong that no barriers can keep it
within bounds. The next morning found the missionaries hard at work.
They had learned that there was going to be some kind of a public
procession through the town as the King was going to visit the tomb of
his ancestors.
[Sidenote: _Prison and Torture._]
A procession to the five meant people, a concourse of sinners and
infidels, a glorious opportunity, and if they did not make the best of
it, they would be unworthy the name they bore. Just as the King was
passing, Berard, who could speak Arabic, mounted a cart and began to
preach. Instead of stopping when the royal train passed, as a
Mussulman would have done, he waxed more vehement. To the King this
seemed either insolence or madness, and having charitably decided on
madness, he ordered the missionaries to be banished. Don Pedro, who by
this time had had enough of his troublesome guests, gave them an
escort to the nearest seaport, and hurried their departure. Again he
reckoned without his host. It was to the Moors the five were sent to
preach, and to the Moors they were bound to go, so they escaped from
their escort, returned to Morocco, and began to preach again in the
streets.
This was too much for the King, and he had them thrown into the vilest
of dungeons, where for several weeks they languished in great misery,
with barely enough to eat. One of the nobles of the Court who was
secretly inclined to the Friars, advised the King to let them out, but
place them under proper care. This was done, and they were handed over
to the unfortunate Don Pedro, who was far from cheerful at seeing them
back again. He was about to start off on a military expedition into
the interior, and not daring to leave his awkward charge behind, he
took them with him. Nothing much is known of their doings till they
got back again to Morocco, whereupon they began their preaching again
without any more delay. Yet again the King commanded that they should
be thrown into prison, and this time they were sentenced to torture.
Albozaida was the name of the officer who was to carry out this
sentence. In his heart he pitied and admired the missionaries, and
notwithstanding the order he had received, he merely had them shut up,
and begged of the King to pardon them. But it was no use. The King was
very angry, and demanded that his will be carried out without delay.
So there was nothing for Albozaida to do but to hand them over to the
executioner.
[Sidenote: _The End._]
Alas for them! this man was a renegade Christian, and no torture was
too great for him to inflict upon them. They were dragged through the
streets with cords round their necks, they were beaten, they were
rolled over pieces of glass and broken tiles, and when evening came,
vinegar was poured into their open wounds, lest the night should bring
too much cessation from pain. But they smiled at pain, and praised God
in the midst of the greatest tortures. This treatment failing to kill
them, the King desired to see them again. He spoke to them at first as
though he had never seen them before.
"Are you the impious men who despise the true faith, the madmen who
blaspheme the Prophet of the Lord?" he said.
"Oh King," they replied, "far from despising the true faith, we are
ready to die for it. It is true that our faith is not your faith."
The King did not appear to be displeased with this bold statement. He
had another argument at hand. He sent for a number of richly-dressed
women, and presenting them to the missionaries he said, "If you will
follow the law of Mahomet, I will give you these women for wives, and
you shall have positions of honor and power in my kingdom. If not, you
shall die by the sword!"
"Prince," they answered, "We want neither your women nor your honors.
Be such things yours, and Jesus Christ ours. Make us suffer all your
tortures, kill us. Pain will be light to us. We look to Heaven!"
Maddened by his own insufficiency the King got up, seized a sword, and
cleft their heads as though he were but a common executioner. Thus
perished the first Franciscan Martyrs.
And did they accomplish nothing? Was their mission an utter failure,
as some historians write it? Let us see for ourselves.
As soon as the missionaries had been killed, the mob took their
bodies, and dragged them in the mire, and horribly mutilated them.
However, Don Pedro, who up till now had been but a very poor
representative of the Church of Christ, was deeply touched by the
death of the five, and his once half-sleeping conscience was awakened
into activity. He got possession of the battered bodies, and
resolving that he would have nothing further to do with the enemies of
Christianity, took them, and went back to his own country. As soon as
he arrived at Coimbra, King Alphonse came out to meet him, and with
great rejoicing the remains of the Missionary Martyrs were carried to
the Church.
[Sidenote: _Fernandez._]
Amongst those who followed in the train of the king was a young man
some twenty-five years old, of noble family, named Fernandez. This
young man was tremendously stirred by the story of the martyred five.
Their life and death spoke to his soul as nothing had ever done
before, he longed to follow in their steps. He had a great deal of
conversation with certain Franciscans who lived in a settlement hut
outside the town. They came sometimes and begged at his door, and he
used to question them.
One day he said--
"If I became one of you, would you send me to the country of the
Saracens, that like your holy martyrs I might shed my blood for the
faith?"
They replied, saying, it was the wish of Francis that his people
should go and preach to the infidels.
"If that is so," said Fernandez, "bring me the habit of your Order and
let me put it on."
Without any pomp or ceremony Fernandez put on the coarse robe, changed
his name to that of Anthony, and, bidding good-bye to his family,
joined the Franciscans. To go into all the details of his story would
take too much space, but Fernandez became one of the shining lights of
the Franciscan movement, and many rose up to call him blessed!
[Sidenote: _Father of Souls._]
He went to Africa, but it was not God's will that he should labor
there. A violent fever reduced him to such a degree of weakness that
he had to leave the country. He set sail, meaning to return to his
native land and get restored in body, but a storm drove the vessel on
to the coast of Italy. He preached there for a time and then went on
to the Portiuncula, where Francis was presiding over a gathering of
the brethren. There God showed him that Africa and a martyr's crown
were not for him, and cheerfully accepting the work that God meant for
him, he became the father of thousands of souls.
Oh, what, if we are Christ's,
Is earthly shame or loss?
Bright shall the crown of glory be,
When we have borne the cross.
Keen was the trial once,
Bitter the cup of woe,
When martyred saints, baptized in blood,
Christ's sufferings shared below.
Bright is their glory now,
Boundless their joy above,
Where, on the bosom of their God,
They rest in perfect love.
Lord! may that grace be ours,
Like them in faith to bear
All that of sorrow, grief, or pain,
May be our portion here!