(A.D. 1597.)
[Roman Martyrology. Pope Urban VIII beatified 26 of these martyrs in
1627. On June 8, 1862, the twenty-six were canonized as Saints.
These were Peter Baptist, Martin d'Aguera, Francis Blanco, Philip de
Las Casas, Gonzalez Garcia, Francis de S. Miguel, all of the Order
of S. Francis; Cosmo Tachegia, Michael Cozaki, Paul Ibarki, Leo
Carasumo, Louis, a child, Antony, a child, Thomas Cozaki, also a
child; Matthias, Ventura, Joachim Saccakibara, Francis Miaco, Thomas
Dauki, John Kimoi, Gabriel Duisco, Paul Suzuki, Francis and Paul
Sukegiro, all these Japanese; also Paul Miki, John de Gota, and
James Quigai, Japanese Jesuits. Authorities: Numerous contemporary
accounts. The following account is epitomised from the history of
the Japanese missions by Miss Cecilia M. Caddell. In the brief space
accorded us it is impossible to give anything like a full account of
this wonderful history. We refer our readers to Miss Caddell's most
interesting account.]
The history of the brief existence of Christianity in Japan and of the
terrible persecution by which it was utterly extirpated in that
island, is at once a melancholy and a glorious episode in the annals
of the Church. In the Japanese we behold the most highly-gifted of the
Asiatic races of modern times receiving the Gospel with a joy and a
fervour which remind us of primitive ages, when thousands in one
single day would run at the divine call to fill the apostolic net, and
when the multitude of the faithful, serving God with one heart and one
soul, resembled rather the chosen few who in later days have left the
crowd to follow the higher path of evangelical perfection, than the
mass of ordinary believers. But if the Japanese excite our admiration
in their willing reception of gospel-truth, and their fervour in
obeying its precepts and counsels, no less, or rather still more
exalted are the feelings with which we must regard the spirit in which
they met the fiery trial which came upon them. Never in the times of
the old pagan persecutions was a more glorious spectacle exhibited of
men, women, and children, rushing to claim the martyr's palm, and
seeking sufferings and torments as others seek honours and pleasures.
Wonderful are the ways of the Almighty, and inscrutable as wonderful!
The conversion of China, for which S. Francis Xavier, the apostle of
the Indies, had long and ardently sighed, was denied to his prayers;
while that of Japan, of which apparently he had never even dreamed,
was given to him unasked. China was the object of all his wishes and
aspirations,--the promised land of his spiritual ambition. It was in
his dreams by night and his thoughts by day,--the subject alike of his
penance and of his prayers; when a young Japanese, tormented by
remorse of conscience for a crime committed years ago, and forgotten
probably by everybody but himself, arrived at Malacca, where the Saint
then was, and throwing himself at his feet, besought of him that peace
and pardon which his native bonzes had been unable to bestow. The
great heart of Francis exulted at the prospect of winning another
empire to the banner of his Divine Lord; while his vivid faith saw in
the sinner who had thus sought him from afar a direct ambassador from
Heaven, which had doubtless pursued this youth with the fear of
retribution, not for his sake alone, but also to effect the conversion
of the idolatrous nation represented in his person. Two years
afterwards, on the Feast of the Assumption (1549), he and his chosen
companion, Father Cosmas de Torres, landed at Kagoxima, the birthplace
of the youth who had come to Francis, and who, under his new name of
Paul, accompanied the fathers as their guide and interpreter to the
nations of Japan.
So the little seed of the Word of God was sown in Japan, and from the
time of this visit, Jesuits freely entered Japan, and were established
by Papal brief as the chief missionaries for that country. Their
eminent success is said to have been based upon their invariably
laying down a solid educational foundation, and securing the careful
training of the scholars who flocked to them. To each mission were
attached a public school, in which Christian doctrine, literature, and
ecclesiastical and secular music were taught, and wherever unusual
capacity was evinced, the missionaries gathered those boys together in
their own houses, and there instructed them how to make mental prayer,
to practise virtue, to avoid and overcome sin, and excite the spirit
of penance. Every Friday the boys went in procession to the churches,
singing psalms and motetts. In this way, the fervour generally induced
by corporal austerities, and the generous, uncalculating devotedness
flowing from the continual thought of Christ's Passion, sprang up in
full vigour from the very beginning of the missions, and ripened to
its legitimate harvest, while _to die for Christ_ became the habitual
aspiration of the child-neophytes of Japan.
Meanwhile, no foreboding of coming reverses, or dread of trials which
might prove fatal, hindered the generous missionaries from their work.
Like the Apostles and their early successors, they went about from day
to day, literally fulfilling our Lord's commands to carry neither
purse nor scrip, nor to provide two coats, nor to abide in any one
place, except for the good of the souls around them. When persecutions
sprang up in one town or territory, they took their crucifixes and
their breviaries in their hands, and went on to another, doing
whatever good was nearest at hand, and leaving all the consequences of
it to God to make fruitful or not. As in the early ages of the Church,
noble women were continually raised up to do great things for Christ,
and to show forth that perfection of love in weakness and childlike
faith by which good women so peculiarly glorify God. One of them,
Maria Kiogscou, gained two sons, a daughter, and a daughter-in-law to
the faith, and her house became the centre of good works and
alms-deeds, and a place of meeting for all the upper classes in Osaka,
most of whom either actually declared themselves Christians, or
shielded and helped those who did. Another noble lady named Julia,
being accustomed to frequent the houses of the nobility at Meaco,
baptized great numbers of other ladies with her own hands, and
instructed a crowd of young people in Christian doctrine. One fact,
strikingly like those of the first centuries of the faith, is told of
a Japanese physician, who happening to read a book lent by one of the
missionaries to a friend of his, became convinced that there was only
one true God, but as the book was not one of doctrine, he learnt no
more than this for four years. Every morning and evening he knelt down
and prayed to the "one true God," and as soon as he knew what to do,
he applied for instruction at Osaka, and was baptized.
The persecution, sometime brooding, broke out first in Fingo, and the
governor, with assumed gentleness, issued certain papers for all his
subjects to sign. Those who firmly refused were seized, carried away
from their homes, and banished. They must have taken refuge on some
other governor's territory, or on a wild border-land, for the band of
exiles built themselves miserable straw-wattled huts, and there lived
as they could, without food or necessaries, and deprived of all
countenance and sympathy whatever, as any one speaking to them was
threatened with severe punishment. In this condition, their courage
and constancy was unbroken, and as soon as it was possible, a Japanese
Priest, Father Luis, visited them in the disguise of a peasant, and
comforted them very much. The bishop then sent them books and other
things, with beautiful letters, exhorting them to persevere, looking
to the reward they would surely earn. Some of the letters written in
return are very touching and beautiful, expressing the strongest
desire for martyrdom, and humbly wondering that any among themselves
should be reckoned worthy of so great a grace as to be "the first
fruits of Japan."
They were at length allowed to depart to the town of Nangasaki, where
they were received with tenderness by the bishop and clergy. Scarcely
had the exiles reached this asylum, ere another edict was published in
Fingo, commanding all the remaining Christians to apostatize. Death
was to be the penalty of a refusal; and two noblemen, named John and
Simon, were chosen as examples of severity to the rest. Both were
friends of the governor to whom the order had been intrusted, and he
did what he could to save them. "If they would but _feign_ compliance
with the king's decree," or "have the ceremony privately performed at
their own houses," or "bribe the bonze to allow it to be supposed that
he had received their recantation,"--each of these alternatives was as
eagerly urged as it was indignantly rejected.
The execution of John took place in the presence of the governor; and
from the chamber, still reeking with the blood of one friend, he went
to the house of the other on a similar mission, and with equal
reluctance.
Simon was quietly conversing with his mother when the governor
entered; and the latter could not refrain from beseeching that lady to
have pity upon them both, and by advising compliance with the king's
commands, to spare herself the anguish of losing a son, and himself
that of imbruing his hands in the blood of a friend. The appeal was
made in vain; and the governor left the house, indignantly declaring
that by her obstinacy she was guilty of the death of her son. Another
nobleman entered soon afterwards, charged with the execution of the
sentence. Jotivava was a friend of Simon's, and he proceeded with what
heart he might to his sad and revolting duty. Knowing his errand well,
Simon received him with an affectionate smile, and then prostrated
himself in prayer before an image of our Saviour crowned with thorns,
while his wife and mother called for warm water that he might wash,--a
ceremony the Japanese always observe upon joyful occasions. His wife
Agnes, falling upon her knees, besought her husband to cut off her
hair, as a sign that she never would marry again. After a little
hesitation, he complied with this request; prophesying, however, that
she and his mother would soon follow him to heaven; and then,
accompanied by the three _Giffiaques_, or officers of the
Confraternity of Mercy, whom he had summoned to be present at the
execution, they all entered the hall where it was intended to take
place. Michael, one of the Giffiaques, carried a crucifix; the other
two bore lighted torches; and Simon walked between his wife and
mother, while his disconsolate servants brought up the rear.
Simon and his friends recited the litany; and then, bowing before a
picture of our Saviour, until his forehead touched the ground, the
nobleman, who acted as executioner, took off his head at a single
blow. Foreseeing that her own death would speedily follow upon his,
Agnes and her mother continued in prayer, the three Giffiaques
remaining in attendance, in order to be able to assist at their
execution; and, in fact, twenty-four hours had not elapsed before it
was told them they were to die on the cross; the officer who came to
acquaint them with their sentence bringing with him Magdalen, the wife
of John, and Luis, a little child whom the latter had adopted as his
own, both of whom were condemned to a similar fate.
With eager joy the prisoners embraced each other, praising, and
thanking God, not only that they were to suffer for Jesus, but also
that they were to suffer on a cross like Jesus; and then, robed in
their best attire, they set off for the place of execution in
palanquins which the guards had provided for the purpose. The
Giffiaques walked at their side. Jane, the mother of Simon, besought
the executioner to bind her limbs as tightly as possible, that she
might thus share the anguish which the nails inflicted upon those of
Jesus; and she spoke from her cross with so much force and eloquence,
that the presiding officer, fearing the effects of her words upon the
people, had her stabbed, without waiting for the rest of the victims.
Luis and Magdalen were tied up next. They bound the child so violently
that he could not refrain from shrieking; but when they asked him if
he was afraid to die, he said he was not; and so they took and set him
up directly opposite his mother. For a brief interval the martyr and
her adopted child gazed silently on each other; then, summoning all
her strength, she said, "Son, we are going to heaven: take courage,
and cry, 'Jesus, Mary!' with your latest breath." And again the child
replied, as he had done before when, on leaving their own home, she
had made him a similar exhortation, "Mother, you shall be obeyed!" The
executioner struck at him first, but missed his aim; and more than
ever fearing for his constancy, Magdalen exhorted him from her cross,
while Michael, standing at its foot, spoke words of comfort to him.
But the child needed not their urging; he did not shriek again, nor
did he shrink, but waited patiently until a second blow had pierced
him through and through; and the lance, yet reeking with his blood,
was directly afterwards plunged into the heart of his mother, whose
sharpest pang had probably already passed on the instant when the son
of her love expired before her. And now the fair and youthful Agnes
alone remained, kneeling, as when she first had reached the place of
execution; for no one yet had the courage to approach her. Like the
headsman of her namesake, the loveliest child of Christian story, her
executioners could only weep that they were bid to mar the beauty of
any thing so fair; their hands were powerless to do their office; and
finding at last that no one sought to bind her, she went herself and
laid her gently and modestly down upon her cross. There she lay,
waiting for her hour, calm and serene as if pillowed on an angel's
bosom, until at length some of the spectators, induced partly by a
bribe offered by the executioner, but chiefly by a bigoted hatred of
her religion, bound her, and lifted up her cross, and then struck her
blow after blow, until beneath their rude and unaccustomed hands she
painfully expired. For a year and a day the bodies were left to hang
upon their crosses, as a terror to all others of the same religion;
but Christians were not wanting to watch the blackening corpses, and,
with a love like that of Rizpah, the mother of the sons of Saul, to
drive from thence the fowls of the air by day, and the beasts of the
field by night; and finally, when the period of prohibition was
expired, reverently to gather the hallowed bones to their last
resting-place in the church of Nangasaki.
The Giffiaques were the next who felt the tyrant's rage. The governor
himself urged on their punishment, for the loss of his friends had
made him furious; and, attributing it entirely to the fact of their
religion, he resolved to wreak his vengeance upon all others who
professed it. "What shall I do with these men?" he cried, in a kind of
savage perplexity, upon being told that the Giffiaques had rather
courted than evaded their imprisonment: "Death they rejoice in, as in
the acquisition of an empire, and they go to exile as a slave to
freedom. The cross is a royal throne, which they mount with pleasure
and occupy with pride. I will therefore contrive for them a fate which
shall make death, under any form whatever, a boon to be desired, but
not to be attained." Within the city walls there was a prison which
the king had constructed for the reception of his debtors. Open on
every side, its inmates were exposed both to the curious gaze of the
passing crowds, and to the suffering of alternate heat and cold, as
summer or winter revolved over their heads. There, huddled together in
this enclosure, the prisoners lay, not upon mats, nor yet upon the
damp cold earth, which in comparison would have been a mercy, but upon
heaps of horrible filth, the accumulation of many years; for by a
hideous cruelty of invention, the monster would never permit the
cleansing out of these loathsome places, hoping by the disgusting
condition of their dungeon to extort a speedier payment from his
victims. Into this den of suffering the governor cast the three
Christians whom he had selected for his prey, never doubting that they
would be soon subdued by the anguish of a life more terrible than the
most lingering and painful death; and so for years the Giffiaques
lingered on, breathing this infected air--pillowed, sleeping and
waking, on the loathsome dung which matted all the pavement, feeding
upon such dry crusts and filthy water as their jailors chose to give
them; until at length one among them died, and then the tyrant, weary
of such willing victims, commanded the other two to be cut in pieces.
According to the usual custom of Japan, their children were condemned
to suffer with them; and however hateful such a practice must appear
to the natural heart of man, yet was it ever to the martyrs a most
welcome boon; for theirs was a Christian as well as a parental love,
teaching them to set the spiritual above the temporal welfare of their
children, and therefore rather to rejoice in, than simply to meet with
calm submission, that double condemnation which, by uniting the fate
of their little ones with their own, snatched them from any future
chance of perversion, and put them at once in possession of their
heavenly kingdom.
One of these little victims was sleeping when they came to fetch him:
he was only six years old, and so tiny, that he had to run as fast as
he could in order to keep up with the soldier who conducted him to
execution; yet, so far from being frightened at his fate, he even
gazed without dismay on the disfigured corpses of his father, uncle,
and cousin, who had all suffered ere he reached the spot; and then,
kneeling down and joining his hands together, looked up smiling in the
face of him who was to lay him at their side. That look disarmed his
executioner. The man suddenly sheathed his sword, declaring that he
had not the heart to perform his office; and when two others sought to
do it for him, they also burst into tears, as that innocent smiling
face met their downward gaze; nor was the deed accomplished until a
common slave, compelled by force to the odious duty, literally hacked
and hewed the poor infant to pieces.
While these scenes, and scenes like these, were constantly recurring
at Fingo, the kingdom of Firando was likewise giving its quota of
martyr-triumphs to the Church; Damian, a blind man of Amangucchi,
being almost the first to lay down his life for the faith. From the
time when the Jesuit fathers were forcibly driven out of that city,
the entire management of the infant mission had devolved upon this
poor old man, whose life was henceforth passed in preaching,
catechizing and baptizing, visiting the sick, and burying the dead,
and doing as much of the work of a zealous missionary as could be
accomplished by any one lacking holy orders. This was sufficient for
the tyrant, and Damian received his choice between Christianity and
death on the one hand, and on the other apostasy and life, with all
that could make life most desirable to the heart of man.
The brave old Christian was not long in making his choice; and he died
for a testimony to the faith, as he had lived for its propagation, his
body being cut to pieces, in order to prevent the other Christians
from collecting his relics for more honourable interment.
His death was the signal for innumerable other massacres in this and
other kingdoms of Japan; but nowhere was the heathen enmity more
unrelentingly displayed than in the once flourishing and Christian
kingdom of Arima. The king of that country, Michael, was mean,
heartless, and ambitious, and exerted his authority and power every
day in committing fresh acts of cruelty against the Christians of
Arima. Under the guidance of his chief minister Safiori, he had
already pulled down the churches, overthrown the crosses, sent
hundreds of the principal Christians into exile, and banished the
Jesuit fathers, to whose influence he attributed their constancy in
the struggle; and having thus, as he hoped, destroyed every landmark
to which they could confidently look for guidance, he published an
edict commanding them all to embrace idolatry or die. At the first
mutterings of the coming storm, the Christians, by general consent,
had enrolled themselves in a confraternity, styled especially "of
martyrs," because, beside the usual practices of prayer, fasting, and
penance, common to all similar associations, the members pledged
themselves to suffer loss of property, banishment, or martyrdom
itself, faithfully and joyfully, for the name of Jesus. This
confraternity afterwards extended itself over other parts of Japan;
and it was even adopted by the little children, who were destined to
play nearly as prominent a part in the coming persecutions as their
parents themselves, and to whom it was therefore given by the Jesuit
fathers, with rules and practices adapted to their tender years. Thus
prepared and strengthened for the struggle, the Christians waited in
patient courage its commencement; and they had not long to wait.
Michael sent first for a nobleman of the name of Thomas, renowned for
his prowess both by sea and by land, and with every art of persuasion
in his power, sought to induce him to yield obedience to his orders.
The blunt soldier listened impatiently to the miserable sophisms of
his chieftain, and then flatly told him, that as a soldier would be
deserving of death for deserting his colours, so he should consider
himself the most despicable of human beings, if for fear or favour of
earthly monarch he could desert that King of kings to whom on the day
of his baptism he had sworn allegiance; ending (so great was his
indignation that he could not contain himself) with a rough speech, to
the effect that he hated traitors as he hated treason, and would
prefer death itself to the baseness of committing the one, or of being
associated with the other. Such a speech to such a man the Christian
well knew could only be uttered at the hazard of his head; no sooner,
therefore, had he left the royal presence, than he sent for one of the
Jesuit fathers, then lying hid in the city, and prepared himself for
death. When urged by his friends, for his own sake, and for the sake
of his family, who would otherwise be involved in his ruin, to seek
safety by flight, he answered with characteristic spirit, "that so far
from fleeing martyrdom, he would go to the end of the earth to seek
it; and that he loved his children all too well to think of depriving
them of a blessing which he coveted for himself above the empire of
the world."
The next day the governor of the city invited him to dinner (so
strangely do they manage these affairs in Japan); and Thomas, well
aware of his approaching fate, took an affectionate farewell of his
wife and children before accepting the ominous invitation. While he
sat at table, his host presented him with a sword, asking his opinion
as to its capabilities for the decapitation of a human head. Thomas,
looking at it carelessly, pronounced it well made, and fitted for such
a work; whereupon the governor receiving it out of his hands, stabbed
him dead on the spot. A few hours afterwards his brother, quite as
uncompromising a Christian as himself, suffered a similar fate; his
mother Martha and his two young sons were also condemned; while his
wife and daughter were, by a caprice of mercy, or perhaps of cruelty,
exempted from the sentence. Very different from the ordinary effects
of such opposite judgments were the feelings elicited by them on the
present occasion: those who were to die blessed God, in an ecstasy of
pious joy, that He had called them to suffer for the faith; while she
who was to live--a widow, and now all but childless--gave way to an
agony of grief at the double loss she was destined to endure. While
she wept over her cruel lot, Martha called her grandchildren, and
embracing them tenderly, told them, that as their father had died for
Jesus Christ, so she and they were now to do the same, and then to go
and live with him in heaven. The children quietly answered, "that
there was nothing which they wished for better;" asking, at the same
time, "when it was to be." "Just now," she said; "so go and take leave
of your mother, and prepare yourselves for death." With smiling
countenances, the children hastened to obey; and having distributed
their toys among their playfellows, and made some parting presents to
their nurses, they clothed themselves in the white robes which Martha
had taken care to provide for the occasion, and knelt before their
mother, saying "Adieu, dear mother; we are going to be martyred." She
was weeping at the instant as if her very heart would break; but
fearing to discourage her children, or cast the shadow of her own
maternal grief over their coming hour of trial, she embraced them,
saying, "Go, dear children; and remembering Him who died for you,
tread courageously in the footsteps of your father and your uncle.
Behold them stretching out their arms to help you; behold the saints
and angels with crowns prepared to set upon your heads; behold Jesus
Christ Himself inviting you to His most sweet embraces; and when you
reach the place of execution, show yourselves to be indeed His
followers by your contempt of death. Fall on your knees, loosen your
collars, join your hands, bow down your heads, and cry out Jesus!
Mary! with your latest breath. Oh, how wretched am I that I cannot be
with you in that hour!" Then, hiding her face in the arms of her
little ones, the poor mother burst into an uncontrollable fit of
weeping, moving the very soldiers to such compassion, that, fearful of
yielding to their feelings, they tore the children from her embraces,
and almost threw them into the palanquin which was to convey them and
their grandmother to the place of execution. During the short transit
thither, that venerable Christian took care to occupy the little
victims in prayer and pious ejaculations; nor did she cease her
guardian-care when they reached the fatal spot; for she stood and saw
them one by one butchered before her eyes, and then, advancing with a
grave and stately pace, she in her turn submitted to the sword.
After this execution, eight of the principal citizens of Arima were
summoned to the presence of their king, and there commanded to abjure
the faith; while he, persecuting tyrant as he was, had the face to
tell them that he only required an external submission, since he too
was in heart a Christian like themselves, though compelled for the
present by the emperor's orders to conceal his faith. Five out of the
eight agreed to this infamous proposal; but four of them afterwards
sincerely repented. The others were not to be cajoled out of their
convictions, and were consequently condemned with their families to
the penalty of fire. As soon as their sentence was made known at
Nangasaki, one of the Fathers came privately to Arima to give
spiritual succour to the captives, and thousands of Christians also
flocked from every part of the country to witness their execution.
Never before perhaps had the Church presented such a spectacle to the
world; and possibly never will she offer such another again. For three
whole days that vast multitude remained camped in the open fields,
patiently waiting for the execution of their brethren; but their
presence struck terror into the heart of the craven king; and dreading
lest they should either rescue the prisoners or seize upon the town,
he faltered in his purpose. It never occurred to him that they of whom
he feared such things would as soon have thought of robbing him of his
material crown as of depriving the martyrs of their palm; they had, in
fact, been careful to come without even their ordinary weapons of
defence, in order to avoid the possibility of a doubt as to their
peaceable intentions; and no sooner did they suspect the cause of the
delay, than some of the gravest of their number waited on the governor
to explain that they were merely there to witness the ceremony, and to
promise that there should be neither tumult nor resistance if they
were permitted to remain. Thus encouraged and reassured, preparations
for the martyrdom went on apace. A wide plain just beneath the castle
of the town was chosen for the purpose; the prisoners were confessed
and communicated by a Jesuit father; and on the day appointed they
came forth, dressed in their robes of ceremony, and with their hands
tied behind their backs, accompanied by upwards of 40,000 Christians,
bearing lights in their hands and garlands on their heads, and singing
the Litanies of our blessed Lady as they went along. Among the victims
was a boy not more than eleven years old, and a young girl called
Magdalen, who having already made a vow of virginity, had always led a
life holy and pure as that of the martyr-virgins of old.
These children, as well as their elder companions, all affectionately
embraced the stakes to which they were afterwards tied; then Gaspar,
the chief of the Confraternity of Martyrs, unrolling a banner upon
which was displayed a figure of the Son of God, bound like themselves
to a pillar, made them a brief exhortation to perseverance; and even
as he was speaking, fire was set to the piles of combustible
materials, which had been laid at a considerable distance from the
martyrs, for the cruel purpose of prolonging their tortures. As the
first gleam of this fearful element of death shot upwards to the
skies, the entire multitude fell with one accord upon their knees; and
still, as the fire drew near its victims, the plain re-echoed with the
oft-repeated "Jesus! Mary!"--"Jesus! Mary!" of the spectators, who
sadly struck their breasts in penance for their own sins, and to
obtain the grace of perseverance for their brethren. Nearer and nearer
yet it hurried; but even above the roar of the rapidly-approaching
flames, and the sighs and lamentations of those who watched them, the
voice of the martyrs might be heard praising God, and animating each
other to constancy and courage. At length the fiery sea had reached
them, and their cords were burst; and then every eye was riveted on
the child, to see whether he would stand of his own free will in that
burning scorching furnace. A moment's pause--he leaves his stake; but
it is only to run through the dense flames, until he has reached and
flung his arms around his mother; while the young Magdalen avails
herself of her freedom to stoop to the burning embers, and picking up
the living coals, set them as a garland of roses on her head. She died
almost in the very effort; but the mother of the child James, with a
heroism of even perhaps a higher order, found strength in the midst of
her own tortures to speak words of courage to her little one, until
death released them from their sufferings. The flames had scorched the
bodies, but had not consumed them; and they were carried off, together
with the blackened and half-burnt stakes, as precious relics, by the
assembled Christians. The bodies were laid to rest in the church of
Nangasaki; where over their honoured graves was afterwards erected a
monument, telling alike of their heroic end, and calling upon all who
read to follow in their footsteps.
Enraged at finding himself foiled by the constancy of the Christians,
the emperor resolved to banish them by hundreds out of Japan; and in
this sentence the Jesuit and Franciscan fathers were formally
included. Fortunately most of the former, in anticipation of some such
event, had been dispersed throughout the country in various disguises:
but it was impossible for those living openly in the college to evade
it; and a sad day it was, both for them and for their flock, when they
found themselves forced to depart from a Church, which in sunshine and
in storm they had now governed for upwards of fifty years. They had
dwelt in peace at Miako, even when persecution was rife in other
kingdoms of the country; and their college had become the resort alike
of Christians and of heathens.
Such was the respect and reverence in which they were held, even by
their most determined enemies in the court of Japan, that they were
permitted to say a farewell Mass publicly in their church, and
afterwards to receive the adieus of their sorrowful flock. Vast
multitudes attended on this occasion; and when High Mass was over, the
Jesuits proceeded to the mournful ceremony of stripping the altars,
the people weeping piteously all the while, and the fathers nearly as
broken-hearted as themselves. All was at length removed that could
tempt to sacrilege; the sacred vessels and robes of ceremony were
confided to the care of such of the Christians as could best be relied
on, the church-doors flung open for all who might choose to enter; and
the next morning the fathers, under a guard of soldiers, were far on
their way to Nangasaki, whence they were to embark. At that town they
were joined by numbers of prisoners, both clerical and lay, collected
from all parts of the country, and finally sixty-three Jesuits, with a
crowd of converts of every age, sex, and condition were embarked for
Macao; while twenty-three others, besides a proportionate number of
Franciscans, Dominicans, and Augustinians (for each of these orders
had now missions in Japan), were dispatched to the Manillas.
In the same year (1614) in which this wholesale banishment took place,
the Christians had to mourn for the death of Luis Cerquiera, bishop of
Japan. He is said to have literally died of a broken heart for the
ruin that had fallen on the infant Church committed to his love and
care. It is true, indeed, that from the first he had undertaken the
task in times of great difficulty and danger; but at the period of his
arrival, though there was much to discourage, there had also been much
to strengthen and to cheer his heart. From Nangasaki, where he had
fixed his residence, he had succeeded in making innumerable journeys
to the most distant parts of the kingdom; and withersoever he went,
thousands had flocked around him for instruction and confirmation. No
kingdom or city was too distant, no road too untrodden, no mountains
too high or too rugged to be accessible to his zeal; and when he
returned from these weary wanderings, he could sit down at Nangasaki,
and feel that there at least Almighty God had the entire homage of all
hearts; for not only was it wholly inhabited by Christians, but the
five parishes into which it was divided were governed by native
pastors, the truest test of the conversion of a people, and one which
only the Catholic Church has ever succeeded in presenting to the world
in the history of the propagation of the Christian faith.
Sadly had this fair scene changed within the last few years, and
rapidly had all that was brightest and best disappeared from the
picture. At the moment of the bishop's death the emperor had
fulminated his final edict against the Christians. Fingo, Amangucchi,
and Firando were already deluged in their blood; Nangasaki was the
head-quarters of Safiori, their implacable foe, and an army of ten
thousand men had been let loose upon Arima, to exterminate religion by
fire and sword. Whenever any of these troops were sent into a
district, a judgment-seat, surrounded by a palisade, was set up in the
most public place of the city; the best known among the Christians
were then dragged by the hair and cast into the enclosure, thrown upon
the ground, trampled underfoot, beaten until they were half-dead, and
their legs, by a cruel contrivance, broken between two pieces of wood;
the most intrepid were then put to death, and their bodies, after
having been cut into pieces, were cast to the birds of prey. At
Cochinotzu sixty Christians were taken, five by five at a time, with
their hands tied behind them, lifted high up into the air, and then
dashed upon the ground with such violence, that blood gushed from
their ears, eyes, and mouths. Many of them were dreadfully lacerated,
others had all their bones broken; and as if this were not already
sufficient torture, they were afterwards pricked and pierced all over
their bodies with sharp instruments. The governor all the while was
exhorting them with affected compassion to spare themselves further
torments by renouncing their religion; but when he found that they
were deaf to his entreaties, he proceeded to inflict a new punishment,
so horrible that it is difficult to conceive the cruelty of the mind
by which it was invented. The victim was made to lie flat on the
ground, and a stone, which four men could scarcely lift, was placed on
his back; and then, by means of a pulley, with cords attached to the
legs and arms, he was raised from the earth in such a manner that the
body was bent completely backwards, the limbs cruelly crushed and
broken, and in many instances the eyes forced out of their sockets;
the fingers and toes of the victims were then cut off, their teeth
knocked out, and if the eyesight yet remained, it was next destroyed.
Many were not beheaded until death had indeed become a mercy; while
others, less fortunate, after undergoing a yet further mutilation of
their persons, were compelled in the midst of their agony to climb up
and down a flight of stairs, for the amusement of their tormentors;
after which they were consigned to the care of their friends, until
one by one, as the strength of their constitutions more or less
prolonged the struggle of death, they passed from their painful
martyrdom to the crowns prepared for them in heaven.
The bloody scenes of Cochinotzu were only a sample of those which
likewise desolated Aria, Obama, Simabara, Swota, and every other city
of note in the kingdom of Arima; but more especially the capital,
where Safiori presided in person over the cruelties which he had
invented for his victims.
To prevent any further addition from without to the number of the
missionaries already in the kingdom, all the ports of Japan were
irrevocably closed against the vessels of Europe, with the exception
indeed of Nangasaki and Firando, which were always under the rigid
surveillance of the officers of the emperor. It was also made death to
be convicted as a priest, or to be discovered in the exercise of
priestly functions; death to introduce a priest into the kingdom, and
death to give him shelter; death not only to the person so exercising
hospitality, but likewise to his ten next neighbours, with their
innocent wives and children,--a reward being generally offered for the
discovery of those who, in any of these ways, should have incurred the
penalties of the law. From that hour the life of each individual
priest was at the mercy of every one to whom he had been previously
known; while the lives of those who sheltered him were equally liable
to be forfeited to the curiosity or cupidity of such of their
neighbours as might chance to discover the fact of their delinquency.
To Father John Baptist Machades, a Jesuit, and Father Peter, a
Franciscan, the honour was accorded of taking the first place on this
long list of priestly victims. The former was going to Omura by order
of his superior, when he and his catechist were made prisoners at
Goto, and sent by sea to the capital. Contrary winds, however,
detaining them at Canomi, the magistrates of that place received
Father Machades on his landing with every mark of courtesy and
kindness. An unrestricted communication was permitted with the
Christians, who flocked to him in crowds; and after the due
administration of the Sacraments he made them a most spirit-stirring
address, in the course of which he told them that, at seven years of
age he had been moved by some secret impulse to a strong desire of
preaching the Gospel to the Japanese.
These duties having been fulfilled, the father returned, of his own
accord, to his prison on board the ship. But so great was the
veneration inspired by his virtues, that the sailors refused to bind
him as he wished; and thus unshackled, and almost unwatched, he
remained until he arrived at the prison of Omura. There he found a
Franciscan father lying under the same sentence of death as himself.
Having confessed and communicated each other, they set out to the
place of execution,--each carrying his crucifix and exhorting the
crowd as they went along, until the final moment came, when each
affectionately embraced the other, and then in peace and joyfulness
submitted to his sentence.
About the same time six other religious commenced a still longer
captivity in the prisons of Omura. Three were Dominicans, one a
Franciscan, and the two others Jesuits, Father Charles Spinola, and
Ambrose Fernandez, a Brother of the Society. When first they were
taken prisoners they had been thrown for greater security into a sort
of subterranean cave where they lay huddled together and deprived of
light.
It was not until the close of the year 1622, that an order arrived for
the removal of these religious and other Christian prisoners to
Nangasaki, and for their subsequent execution. They were thirty in
number as they marched out of Omura; and partly by sea and partly by
land, each with a rope round his neck, and an executioner at his side,
they went on their way to the old city of the Christians. It was not
considered prudent that they should enter Nangasaki, so the
inhabitants went forth in multitudes to meet them, and flinging
themselves at their feet, begged with many tears their blessings and
their prayers; and thus escorted, the martyrs stood at length upon a
high hill between the city and the sea. A moment of suspense followed.
Some victim or spectator was yet wanting to the solemnity; and every
eye was directed towards the town, from whence a troop of persons
might be descried approaching,--men, women, and children; thirty of
the former, with, of course a larger proportion of the latter. Every
doubt as to the ultimate destination of this company soon vanished
when it was seen that they were dressed in their robes of ceremony,
and with looks of gladness and of holy joy were ascending to the
calvary of the Christians. One of the new-comers had been guilty of
giving shelter to a missionary; the others were his ten next
neighbours, with their families, besides the wives and children of
some previous martyrs; and of this almost incredible number of
victims, amounting to upwards of a hundred, some were to be beheaded,
while others were to perish by the slower martyrdom of fire. A throne
had been erected overlooking this scene of slaughter, and when the
governor had taken his seat upon it, those who were to undergo the
sentence of fire were fastened to their stakes, but loosely, in order
that they might escape if only they chose to apostatize, and then the
executioners prepared to decapitate the others. Among these last was
Isabella, the widow of the man in whose house Father Spinola had been
taken captive, and her son Ignatius, a child now about four years old,
but at that time a new-born infant, whom he had baptized on the very
evening before his arrest. From the stake to which he was already
bound, the father had been exhorting both natives and Portuguese to
perseverance, telling them, almost in a spirit of prophecy, that they
need not look for any cessation in the persecution, which would go on
increasing in fury from day to day; when chancing to see Isabella
standing in the crowd, and anxious for the fate of her child, he
suddenly cried out, "Where then is my little Ignatius?" The mother
held him up, exclaiming, "Here he is, my father, ready and glad to die
for Jesus;" and then addressing the infant, she bade him ask the
blessing of the good father, who in the waters of baptism had
conferred upon him a spiritual life infinitely more precious than that
which he was now about to forfeit for his God. Instantly the little
creature fell upon his knees, joining his tiny hands together, as if
he would supplicate the blessing of the father. So touching in its
simplicity was this little scene, that the crowd, already interested
by the movement of the mother, now broke into such open murmurs of
compassion, that the officers were obliged to proceed at once with the
execution, in order to prevent the possibility of an attempt at a
rescue. Two or three heads had already fallen close by the child's
side, and now his mother's followed; yet it was observed that he
neither shrank nor changed colour, but his turn being next, he fell
upon his knees, loosened (for there was no one to do the office for
him) with his infant but untrembling fingers the collar that would
have impeded the aim of the executioner, and without a cry or murmur
submitted to the sword.
The remaining victims were speedily despatched; and their heads having
been placed opposite to such of their companions as were to die at the
stakes, fire was set to the piles of wood by which the latter were
surrounded. With the usual diabolical ingenuity of the Japanese
pagans, the faggots had been placed full five-and-twenty feet from the
stakes; and whenever the fire was seen to gain too fast upon its
victims, water was cast upon it, that inch by inch they might taste
the full agony of the sentence to which they had been condemned. Many
of them died from the mere effects of the heated atmosphere;--among
others, Father Rimura, a Japanese priest, after having lived for full
three hours in the midst of the flames; and Father Spinola also, whose
body was afterwards found unburnt, and wrapped in his cassock, which
was literally glued to the flesh by the combined action of the heat
and of the water which had been cast upon his person.
Terrible beyond expression as their sufferings must have been, two
only of this heroic company showed the slightest symptoms of being
even conscious of its anguish. Both were Japanese, and very young; and
both simultaneously, and as if from an absolute physical inability to
endure such frightful torture any longer, rushed out of the flames,
and threw themselves at the feet of the governor, imploring his mercy.
They did not, however, ask for life; they asked only for an easier and
quicker death. But, poor as the boon was, it was denied them, save
upon the condition of apostasy, which they would not accept; and again
they were flung back into the flames.
This martyrdom, which was distinguished among the Japanese as the
"Great Martyrdom," on account both of the rank and number of its
victims, had been preceded by another at Miako, which took place under
circumstances of peculiar barbarity. One of the victims was in daily
expectation of giving birth to a child; nevertheless she was included
in the sentence which sent her husband, a nobleman of the highest
rank, and their six young children, with upwards of forty other
Christians, to the stake.
The tragical situation in which she was placed had however, no terrors
for this heroic woman. She employed her prison-hours in preparing
robes for herself and her children to wear at their execution; and
when she was brought to the destined place, calmly, and without
assistance, she stepped from the cart, and throwing a rich mantle over
her shoulders, prepared to suffer with a modesty and composure that
won her the admiration of all beholders. It was dark night before fire
was set to their several piles; but as soon as the smoke had cleared
away, the martyrs were seen by the light of the bright flames amid
which they stood, with eyes fixed on heaven and their forms motionless
and erect, as though they had been figures chiselled out of stone.
In very horror the spectators were silent, and the stillness and hush
of death was upon the midnight air, when suddenly from out of that
fiery furnace a flood of melody was poured,--men and women and
children singing the praises of the living God as sweetly, and with
notes as true as though the red and thirsty flames had been but the
dews of heaven upon their brows. The sighs and prayers of the
assistants, which could no longer be repressed, the shouts and
execrations of the soldiers and executioners, soon mingled with this
death-song; and these and the dark night, and the fierce fire that
illuminated its gloom, now flashing intolerable light upon the
victims, now glancing lividly on the pale faces and shrinking forms of
the densely-packed spectators, altogether formed an union of sights
and sounds that alternately swayed the feelings to terror and
compassion. But the music of that marvellous choir died gradually
away; the sudden failing of each gladsome voice, the silent sinking of
each upright form, telling that another, and yet another had yielded
to their doom, was marked by the watchers with redoubled lamentations;
though their tenderest sympathies were still reserved for the mother
dying in the midst of her little ones.
From the cross to which they had bound her, Thecla (for such was her
name) still kept her eyes fixed upon her children, animating them by
gentle smiles and words of comfort to suffer well; while the youngest,
an infant only three years old, she held with superhuman courage in
her arms during the whole of the terrible scene that followed. Her own
anguish had no power to extort a single sigh from her lips; but those
who watched her wept to see the useless efforts which she made to
diminish the sufferings of her babe. She caressed it, soothed it,
hushed its cries, wiped away its tears, sought with her own hands to
shelter its tender face from the terrible contact of the fire, and
died at last with the little victim so closely folded to her bosom,
that it was afterwards found almost impossible to separate the bodies
of the mother and the child.
These martyrdoms are only specimens of those which during this period
continually took place in Japan. Some Christians were crucified,
others burnt, others beheaded; numbers again branded upon the cheeks
and forehead with the sign of the cross, their fingers and toes cut
off, and their eyes forced out; and thus maimed and helpless, they
were sent back to their families, who (to their honour be it written)
never failed to receive them with all the more pride and affection,
the more deeply and hideously they had been disfigured for the sake of
Jesus.
The great majority of the martyrdoms hitherto recorded had been
accomplished by fire; but now a different mode of torture was to be
pressed into the service. Water was called into requisition; and
Father James Caravail, with several lay Christians, was the leader of
many heroic confessors who perished from cold. They were left in the
first instance, for three hours in freezing water, during which time
one of them died; the rest on being carried back to prison and
threatened with the martyrdom of fire in case of perseverance, cried
out with one voice; "Oh, happy we, to pass through fire and water to
the place of our repose!" Instead of the stake, however, the next day
they were again placed up to their necks in water; while, the better
to attempt them to apostasy, tents, warm baths, and comfortable
clothing, were made ready on the banks of the pool, and as near as
possible to the spot where their sentence was to be carried into
execution. As the day advanced, the water froze more and more; and
heavy drifts of snow beating continually upon them, added greatly to
their agony. Scarcely able to endure it any longer, one among them
sobbed heavily for breath; but Father Paul hearing it, cried out,
"Have patience, son, for yet a little while; and these torments will
be changed into everlasting repose." At the sound of the father's
voice, and his cheering words, the poor victim regained his courage,
and soon afterwards happily expired, at the very moment when another
reduced to a similar extremity, exclaimed, "Father, my course is
nearly finished." "Depart then," replied the latter; "depart in peace
to God, and die in his holy grace." Thus one by one they perished in
this icy grave; and at length the father, who through the live-long
day had cheered his fellow-martyrs to the combat, was left to suffer
and to die alone. Night had already closed in heavy and chill around
him; and with the exception of his guards and some few faithful
Christians, none were there to watch him, for the spectators had all
retired to their comfortable homes, and it was not until just
midnight, that after fifteen hours of stern endurance, he bowed
himself down to the frozen wave, and placidly expired. This martyrdom
took place in the year 1624, and shortly afterwards four more
religious were burnt at Faco; in June of the same year the provincial
of the Jesuits, with eight of the Society, perished in a similar
manner; and in the following month Lewis Xanch, a Dominican, was put
to death at Omura.
We have mentioned these executions of priests without alluding to the
almost weekly massacres which took place among the lay converts,
merely to show the virulence and success with which the missionaries
were now every where pursued; and when it is remembered that at the
commencement of the persecution there were, besides the Jesuits, but a
few secular priests and about thirty religious of other orders, in
Japan, and that no reinforcement had succeeded in reaching them from
without, words will not be needed to point out the deadly nature of
the blow which the Xoguno was at last inflicting on the church. Having
said thus much, however, upon the fate of the religious, it would be a
crying injustice to the rest of the Christians to pass over their
sufferings altogether in silence.
The Xoguno having once explicitly declared himself opposed to their
religion, the inferior monarchs, as a matter of course, vied with each
other in their efforts to uproot it. It was only on an express
condition to that effect that Bugendono, the new governor of
Nangasaki, had been installed in that office; and taunted continually
by his rivals for courtly favour with his little success, he employed
himself day and night in the invention of more ingenious barbarities
to effect his purpose. The object being rather to produce apostasy
than death, every species of torture was made as slow as possible in
its execution, and was generally eked out with intervals of rest and
refreshment--a thousand times more dangerous to the perseverance of
the victim than the sharpest continued agony. Some were placed in deep
pits, and there nearly buried alive; while executioners appointed for
the purpose, slowly, and with blunt weapons, sawed off sometimes the
arms and sometimes the head, salt being thrown on the bleeding wound
to sharpen its anguish; physicians were also at hand, whose business
it was to prolong the life of the sufferer for as many days as
possible, by carefully ascertaining the amount of his physical
strength, and administering cordials when it was beginning to fail.
Others were hung with their head downwards in a pit, where, with the
necessary precaution of occasional bleeding, they were made to exist
for a considerable time in all the sufferings of an apoplexy; while
others again, by means of a funnel forced far down into their throats,
were compelled to swallow enormous quantities of water, which was
afterwards forced out of the body by violent pressure. Even the Dutch,
themselves more than half the authors of these evils, speak with
horror of the deeds which they witnessed at Firando. The nails of the
victims were violently wrenched off, holes bored into their legs and
arms, great morsels of flesh torn out of their persons by the
insertion of hollow reeds which were turned round like a screw,
burning brimstone and sulphur forced by long tubes up their noses; and
they were, besides, frequently compelled to walk about with
executioners holding lighted torches close to their persons. Nor were
these cruelties inflicted singly, or upon solitary and more noted
delinquents. By tens, by fifties, by hundreds at a time, they were
assembled for their trial; one torture rapidly succeeding another, and
each new one being so cunningly contrived, that the slightest word of
complaint, the most trivial movement of resistance when pain had
become almost intolerable, was to be considered as a signal of
apostasy, and was greeted by cries of "He is fallen! he is
fallen!"--the favourite and most significant words by which the
heathen expressed at once the fact of a Christian's recantation, and
their own opinion of the weakness through which he had succumbed.
Under circumstances such as these, it is not so wonderful that many
failed, as that hundreds and thousands persevered to the end, winning
their crown by a long-suffering and patience which, even in the
primitive Church, were never surpassed. Men offered themselves
willingly to every torture which Eastern ingenuity could devise, or
reckless disregard of human life put into execution. Women looked
calmly on while their infants perished, and then followed with
gladness and joy in the same path to glory. At a city near Omura, a
brave Christian plunged his hand into the burning coals, and never
withdrew it until commanded to do so by the tyrant who had taunted and
dared him to the deed; while at Firando fifty young Christians were
made to kneel naked upon living embers, on the express understanding
that the most involuntary expression of pain should be considered as
apostasy; and having by their unflinching firmness baffled the closest
scrutiny of those who watched them, were sent back to die, half
roasted as they were, to their several homes. In one place eighteen
infants were put to death in the presence of their parents; at
another, a child only seven years old, suspected with the rest of his
family of the concealment of a priest, lived for as many days in the
midst of the torture they inflicted on him, without once flinching or
failing in his heroic resolution. To each fresh invention of their
cruelty he only answered, probably to avoid being betrayed into
imprudent disclosures, "Jesus, Mary! Jesus, Mary! How I long to be in
heaven with my God!" Nor could other words be extorted from his lips,
even when, in their despair of succeeding, they cut open the little
creature's shoulders, and poured boiling lead into the wound; and
finally, he and his family were burnt alive, without a single one
among them having been induced by weakness to give evidence against
the priest.
Opposed to constancy such as this, every ordinary mode of torture must
have seemed only useless and unmeaning; but at length another was hit
upon, and one so barbarous in its nature, that no tyrant, however
cruel or ferocious, who had hitherto ruled in Japan, had ever thought
of inflicting it on the most guilty of his subjects.
Between Nangasaki and Sima-bara lies a mountain, bald, bleak, and
treeless, whitening beneath the masses of cinders with which it is
every where covered, and with a thick and stifling smoke, which can be
seen at a distance of several leagues, for ever rising from its
summit. The soil that covers its steep ascent is every where soft and
spongy, often burning and trembling beneath the footsteps; while so
strong is the smell of sulphur which it continually exhales, that it
is said no bird can live, or will even attempt to fly within breathing
distance of its tainted atmosphere. Deep and unfathomable pools of
boiling water lie hidden amid the clefts and fissures which split this
gloomy mountain into peaks and precipices of various sizes; but one,
deeper and more unfathomable than all the rest, instead of water, is
filled with a mixture of sulphur and other volcanic matter, which
seethe and bubble and boil within its dark abyss, emitting all the
while so horrible a stench as to have gained it the title of the
"Mouth of Hell." One drop alone of this fearful fluid is sufficient to
produce an ulcer on the human flesh; and when Bugendono thought on the
terrible nature of the chastisement he could thus inflict, and upon
the fear and superstition with which the Japanese always regarded the
sulphurous waters of Unsen, and the mysterious cavern in which they
were produced, he felt that he could not have hit upon a more
efficient or infallible means for the intimidation of the Christians,
and the extirpation of their creed. At the very time when he came to
this resolution, there chanced to be dispersed throughout Arima a band
of faithful confessors, upon whom all his previously-invented tortures
had been tried in vain; and for this reason the governor considered
they would prove the fittest objects for his new experiment. Paul
Uciborg was the chief, both for courage and virtue, of this troop of
victims; and he had already witnessed the massacre of every member of
his family, down even to the youngest of his children, who, in company
with fifteen other Christians, had been thrown into the sea, after
having first suffered every possible cruelty that could barbarously be
inflicted upon them.
"Which shall I begin with?" asked the executioner, as he approached
the two youngest of Paul's children for the purpose of chopping off
their fingers.
"That is your affair, not mine," the old Christian answered bluntly,
probably to conceal a softer feeling. "Cut off which, and as many, as
you please."
"And oh!" sighed little Ignatius, as, in the very spirit of the brave
man his father, he watched his brother's fingers falling joint by
joint beneath the knife of the executioner; "how beautiful your hand
looks, my brother, thus mutilated for the sake of Jesus Christ, and
how I long for my own turn to come!"
The child who made this exclamation was but five years old; yet
without shedding a tear, he afterwards endured a similarly protracted
amputation, and then silently and unresistingly suffered himself to be
cast into the ocean. The father and about twenty of the remaining
Christians, who were reserved for a different fate, were, after the
massacre of their companions, brought back to shore; although so
frightfully crippled, from the mutilations they had already undergone,
that one at least of their number was compelled to be carried to his
house in a kind of coffin on men's shoulders. The governor had hoped
that their ghastly appearance would terrify others from following
their example; but he soon found that Jesus was more easily and more
eloquently preached by such wounds and such deeds as theirs, than by
any words that could be uttered; and in his vexation at the numbers
who flocked to them for edification and encouragement, he condemned
them, as we have seen, to the boiling sulphurs of Unsen.
As the little company of martyrs approached this terrible chasm, one
among them, at the bidding of the executioner, and in the spirit of an
Apollonia, rushed forward at once, and flung himself into its depths;
but Paul, with a more measured courage, commanded the others to
restrain their zeal; while to the heathens who taunted him with
cowardice, he contented himself by saying, "that they were not masters
of their own lives, which God having given, God alone had a right to
take away; and that, in reality, there was more real courage in calmly
waiting the approach of death, than in rushing into its arms in such a
way as to put an end to all its terrors in a moment." Silenced by this
answer, so calm and noble in its genuine Christian courage, the
executioners proceeded to their duties; and having tied each of the
martyrs by ropes, in order to prevent their falling entirely into the
chasm, they lowered them one by one into its seething contents. Some
were destroyed at a single plunge; others, by being quickly withdrawn,
were reserved for the torment of a second immersion; but old Paul, who
suffered last, and who had excited the hatred of the heathens by the
courage with which it was believed he had inspired his companions,
they managed, with dexterous cruelty, to let down three several times
into the abyss before life was altogether extinguished; and each time
as he rose to the surface he was heard to exclaim: "Eternal praise be
to the ever adorable Sacrament of the Altar!"
After this first trial of its power, the scalding sulphurous waters of
Unsen became a favourite mode of torture for the Christians. Men,
women, children, and infants were sent hither in crowds. Some expired
after a single plunge; others after two or three successive
immersions; others, again, and the greater number, were with a more
elaborate cruelty sprinkled with the boiling liquor day after day,
often for a period of thirty days together, until their bodies were
one mass of sores and vermin, and they died from the effects of this
universal ulceration.
[Illustration]
February 6.
S. BUCOLUS, _B. of Smyrna, circ._ A.D. 100.
S. ANTHOLIAN, _M. at Clermont, circ._ A.D. 255.
SS. DOROTHY, _V. M._, AND THEOPHILUS, _M., at Cæsarea, in Cappadocia,
circ._ A.D. 303.
SS. SYLVAN, _B. M._, LUKE, _D. M._, AND MUCIUS, _Lect. M. at Emesa_,
A.D. 312.
SS. MAEL, MELCHU, MUN, AND RIOCH, _Bishops in Ireland, end of
5th cent._
S. AVENTINE, _Ab. H. at Troyes, circ._ A.D. 538.
S. VEDAST, _B. of Arras, circ._ A.D. 540.
S. AMANDUS, _B. of Maestricht_, A.D. 684.
S. INA, _K. of the West Saxons, about_ A.D. 728.
S. GUARIN, _Card. B. of Preneste_, A.D. 1159.
S. ALDERICK, _Swineherd at Fussenich_, A.D. 1200.
S. BRYNJOLF, _B. of Skara in Sweden_, A.D. 1317.