A VIOLENT persecution being set on foot by the emperor Severus, in 202,
reached Africa the following year; when, by order of Minutius
Timinianus, {534} (or Firminianus,) five catechumens were apprehended at
Carthage for the faith: namely, Rovocatus, and his fellow-slave
Felicitas, Saturninus, and Secundulus, and Vibia Perpetua. Felicitas was
seven months gone with child; and Perpetua had an infant at her breast,
was of a good family, twenty-two years of age, and married to a person
of quality in the city. She had a father, a mother, and two brothers;
the third, Dinocrates, died about seven years old. These five martyrs
were joined by Saturus, probably brother to Saturninus, and who seems to
have been their instructor: he underwent a voluntary imprisonment,
because he would not abandon them. The father of St. Perpetua, who was a
pagan, and advanced in years, loved her more than all his other
children. Her mother was probably a Christian, as was one of her
brothers, the other a catechumen. The martyrs were for some days before
their commitment kept under a strong guard in a private house: and the
account Perpetua gives of their sufferings to the eve of their death, is
as follows: "We were in the hands of our persecutors, when my father,
out of the affection he bore me, made new efforts to shake my
resolution. I said to him: 'Can that vessel, which you see, change its
name?' He said: 'No.' I replied: 'Nor can I call myself any other than I
am, that is to say, a Christian.' At that word my father in a rage fell
upon me, as if he would have pulled my eyes out, and beat me: but went
away in confusion, seeing me invincible: after this we enjoyed a little
repose, and in that interval received baptism. The Holy Ghost, on our
coming out of the water, inspired me to pray for nothing but patience
under corporal pains. A few days after this we were put into prison: I
was shocked at the horror and darkness of the place;[1] for till then I
knew not what such sort of places were. We suffered much that day,
chiefly on account of the great heat caused by the crowd, and the
ill-treatment we met with from the soldiers. I was moreover tortured
with concern, for that I had not my infant. But the deacons, Tertius and
Pomponius, who assisted us, obtained, by money, that we might pass some
hours in a more commodious part of the prison to refresh ourselves. My
infant being brought to me almost famished, I gave it the breast. I
recommended him afterwards carefully to my mother, and encouraged my
brother; but was much afflicted to see their concern for me. After a few
days my sorrow was changed into comfort, and my prison itself seemed
agreeable. One day my brother said to me: 'Sister, I am persuaded that
you are a peculiar favorite of Heaven: pray to God to reveal to you
whether this imprisonment will end in martyrdom or not, and acquaint me
of it.' I, knowing God gave me daily tokens of his goodness, answered,
full of confidence, 'I will inform you to-morrow.' I therefore asked
that favor of God, and had this vision. I saw a golden ladder which
reached from earth to the heavens; but so narrow, that only one could
mount it at a time. To the two sides were fastened all sorts of iron
instruments, as swords, lances, hooks, and knives; so that if any one
went up carelessly he was in great danger of having his flesh torn by
those weapons. At the foot of the ladder lay a dragon of an enormous
size, who kept guard to turn back and terrify those that endeavored to
mount it. The first that went up was Saturus, who was not apprehended
with us, but voluntarily surrendered himself afterwards on our account:
when he was got to the top of the ladder, he turned towards me and said:
'Perpetua, I wait for you; but take care lest the dragon bite you.' I
answered: 'In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, he shall not hurt me.'
Then the dragon, as if afraid of me, gently lifted his head from under
the ladder, and I, having got upon the first step, set my foot upon his
head. Thus I mounted to the top, and there {535} I saw a garden of an
immense space, and in the middle of it a tall man sitting down dressed
like a shepherd, having white hair. He was milking his sheep, surrounded
with many thousands of persons clad in white. He called me by my name,
bid me welcome, and gave me some curds made of the milk which he had
drawn: I put my hands together and took and ate them; and all that were
present said aloud, Amen. The noise awaked me, chewing something very
sweet. As soon as I had related to my brother this vision, we both
concluded that we should suffer death.
"After some days, a rumor being spread that we were to be examined, my
father came from the city to the prison overwhelmed with grief:
'Daughter,' said he, 'have pity on my gray hairs, have compassion on
your father, if I yet deserve to be called your father; if I myself have
brought you up to this age: if you consider that my extreme love of you,
made me always prefer you to all your brothers, make me not a reproach
to mankind. Have respect for your mother and your aunt; have compassion
on your child that cannot survive you; lay aside this resolution, this
obstinacy, lest you ruin us all: for not one of us will dare open his
lips any more if any misfortune befall you.' He took me by the hands at
the same time and kissed them; he threw himself at my feet in tears, and
called me no longer daughter, but, my lady. I confess, I was pierced
with sharp sorrow when I considered that my father was the only person
of our family that would not rejoice at my martyrdom. I endeavored to
comfort him, saying: 'Father, grieve not; nothing will happen but what
pleases God; for we are not at our own disposal.' He then departed very
much concerned. The next day, while we were at dinner, a person came all
on a sudden to summon us to examination. The report of this was soon
spread, and brought together a vast crowd of people into the
audience-chamber. We were placed on a sort of scaffold before the judge,
who was Hilarian, procurator of the province, the proconsul being lately
dead. All who were interrogated before me confessed boldly Jesus Christ.
When it came to my turn, my father instantly appeared with my infant. He
drew me a little aside, conjuring me in the most tender manner not to be
insensible to the misery I should bring on that innocent creature to
which I had given life. The president Hilarian joined with my father and
said: 'What! will neither the gray hairs of a father you are going to
make miserable, nor the tender innocence of a child, which your death
will leave an orphan, move you? Sacrifice for the prosperity of the
emperor.' I replied, 'I will not do it.' 'Are you then a Christian?'
said Hilarian. I answered: 'Yes, I am.' As my father attempted to draw
me from the scaffold, Hilarian commanded him to be beaten off, and he
had a blow given him with a stick, which I felt as much as if I had been
struck myself, so much was I grieved to see my father thus treated in
his old age. Then the judge pronounced our sentence, by which we were
all condemned to be exposed to wild beasts. We then joyfully returned to
our prison; and as my infant had been used to the breast, I immediately
sent Pomponius, the deacon, to demand him of my father, who refused to
send him. And God so ordered it that the child no longer required to
suck, nor did my milk incommode me." Secundulus, being no more
mentioned, seems to have died in prison before this interrogatory.
Before Hilarian pronounced sentence, he had caused Saturus, Saturninus,
and Revocatus, to be scourged; and Perpetua and Felicitas to be beaten
on the face. They were reserved for the shows which were to be exhibited
for the soldiers in the camp, on the festival of Geta, who had been made
Caesar tour years before by his father Severus, when his brother
Caracalla was created Augustus.
St. Perpetua relates another vision with which she was favored, as
follows: "A few days after receiving sentence, when we were all together
in {536} prayer, I happened to name Dinocrates, at which I was
astonished, because I had not before had him in my thoughts; and I that
moment knew that I ought to pray for him. This I began to do with great
fervor and sighing before God; and the same night I had the following
vision: I saw Dinocrates coming out of a dark place, where there were
many others, exceeding hot and thirsty; his face was dirty, his
complexion pale, with the ulcer in his face of which he died at seven
years of age, and it was for him that I had prayed. There seemed a great
distance between him and me, so that it was impossible for us to come to
each other. Near him stood a vessel full of water, whose brim was higher
than the statue of an infant: he at tempted to drink, but though he had
water he could not reach it. This mightily grieved me, and I awoke. By
this I knew my brother was in pain, but I trusted I could by prayer
relieve him: so I began to pray fer him, beseeching God with tears, day
and night, that he would grant me my request; as I continued to do till
we were removed to the damp prison: being destined for a public show on
the festival of Caesar Geta. The day we were in the stocks[2] I had this
vision: I saw the place, which I had beheld dark before, now luminous;
and Dinocrates, with his body very clean and well clad, refreshing
himself, and instead of his wound a scar only. I awoke, and I knew he
was relieved from his pain.[3]
"Some days after, Pudens, the officer who commanded the guards of the
prison, seeing that God favored us with many gifts, had a great esteem
of us, and admitted many people to visit us for our mutual comfort. On
the day of the public shows my father came to find me out, overwhelmed
with sorrow. He tore his beard, he threw himself prostrate on the
ground, cursed his years, and said enough to move any creature; and I
was ready to die with sorrow to see my father in so deplorable a
condition. On the eve of the shows I was favored with the following
vision. The deacon Pomponius methought, knocked very hard at the
prison-door, which I opened to him. He was clothed with a white robe,
embroidered with innumerable pomegranates of gold. He said to me:
'Perpetua, we wait for you, come along.' He then took me by the hand
and, led me through very rough places into the middle of the
amphitheatre, and said: 'Fear not.' And, leaving me, said again: 'I will
be with you in a moment, and bear a part with you in your pains.' I was
wondering the beasts were not let out against us, when there appeared a
very ill-favored Egyptian, who came to encounter me with others. But
another beautiful troop of young men declared for me, and anointed me
with oil for the combat. Then appeared a man of prodigious stature, in
rich apparel, having a wand in his hand like the masters of the
gladiators, and a green bough on which hung golden apples. Having
ordered silence, he said that the bough should be my prize, if I
vanquished {537} the Egyptian--but that if he conquered me, he should
kill me with a sword. After a long and obstinate engagement, I threw him
on his face, and trod upon his head. The people applauded my victory
with loud acclamations. I then approached the master of the
amphitheatre, who gave me the bough with a kiss, and said: 'Peace be
with you, my daughter.' After this I awoke, and found that I was not so
much to combat with wild beasts as with the devils." Here ends the
relation of St. Perpetua.
St. Saturus had also a vision which he wrote himself. He and his
companions were conducted by a bright angel into a most delightful
garden, in which they met some holy martyrs lately dead, namely,
Jocundus, Saturninus, and Artaxius, who had been burned alive for the
faith, and Quintus, who died in prison. They inquired after other
martyrs of their acquaintance, say the acts, and were conducted into a
most stately place, shining like the sun: and in it saw the king of this
most glorious place surrounded by his happy subjects, and heard a voice
composed of many, which continually cried: "Holy, holy, holy." Saturus,
turning to Perpetua, said: "You have here what you desired." She
replied: "God be praised. I have more joy here than ever I had in the
flesh." He adds, Going out of the garden they found before the gate, on
the right hand, their bishop of Carthage, Optatus, and on the left,
Aspasius, priest of the same church, both of them alone and sorrowful.
They fell at the martyr's feet, and begged they would reconcile them
together, for a dissension had happened between them. The martyrs
embraced them, saying: "Are not you our bishop, and you a priest of our
Lord? It is our duty to prostrate ourselves before you." Perpetua was
discoursing with them; but certain angels came and drove hence Optatus
and Aspasius; and bade them not to disturb the martyrs, but be
reconciled to each other. The bishop Optatus was also charged to heal
the divisions that reigned among several of his church. The angels,
after these reprimands, seemed ready to shut the gates of the garden.
"Here," says he, "we saw many of our brethren and martyrs likewise. We
were fed with an ineffable odor, which delighted and satisfied us." Such
was the vision of Saturus. The rest of the acts were added by an
eye-witness. God had called to himself Secondulus in prison. Felicitas
was eight months gone with child, and as the day of the shows
approached, she was inconsolable lest she should not be brought to bed
before it came; fearing that her martyrdom would be deferred on that
account, because women with child were not allowed to be executed before
they were delivered: the rest also were sensibly afflicted on their part
to leave her alone in the road to their common hope. Wherefore they
unanimously joined in prayer to obtain of God that she might be
delivered against the shows. Scarce had they finished their prayer, when
Felicitas found herself in labor. She cried out under the violence of
her pain: one of the guards asked her, if she could not bear the throes
of childbirth without crying out, what she would do when exposed to the
wild beasts. She answered: "It is I that suffer what I now suffer; but
then there will be another in me that will suffer for me, because I
shall suffer for him." She was then delivered of a daughter, which a
certain Christian woman took care of, and brought up as her own child.
The tribune, who had the holy martyrs in custody, being informed by some
persons of little credit, that the Christians would free themselves out
of prison by some magic enchantments, used them the more cruelly on that
account, and forbade any to see them. Thereupon Perpetua said to him:
"Why do you not afford us some relief, since we are condemned by Caesar,
and destined to combat at his festival? Will it not be to your honor
that we appear well fed?" At this the tribune trembled and blushed, and
ordered them to be used with more humanity, and their friends to be
admitted to see them. Pudens, {538} the keeper of the prison, being
already converted, secretly did them all the good offices in his power.
The day before they suffered they gave them, according to custom, their
last meal, which was called a free supper, and they ate in public. But
the martyrs did their utmost to change it into an Agape, or Love-feast.
Their chamber was full of people, whom they talked to with their usual
resolution, threatening them with the judgments of God, and extolling
the happiness of their own sufferings. Saturus, smiling at the curiosity
of those that came to see them, said to them, "Will not to-morrow
suffice to satisfy your inhuman curiosity in our regard? However you may
seem now to pity us, to-morrow you will clap your hands at our death,
and applaud our murderers. But observe well our faces, that you may know
them again at that terrible day when all men shall be judged." They
spoke with such courage and intrepidity, as astonished the infidels, and
occasioned the conversion of several among them.
The day of their triumph being come, they went out of the prison to go
to the amphitheatre. Joy sparkled in their eyes, and appeared in all
their gestures and words. Perpetua walked with a composed countenance
and easy pace, as a woman cherished by Jesus Christ, with her eyes
modestly cast down: Felicitas went with her, following the men, not able
to contain her joy. When they came to the gate of the amphitheatre the
guards would have given them, according to custom, the superstitious
habits with which they adorned such as appeared at these sights. For the
men, a red mantle, which was the habit of the priests of Saturn: for the
women, a little fillet round the head, by which the priestesses of Ceres
were known. The martyrs rejected those idolatrous ceremonies; and, by
the mouth of Perpetua, said, they came thither of their own accord on
the promise made them that they should not be forced to any thing
contrary to their religion. The tribune then consented that they might
appear in the amphitheatre habited as they were. Perpetua sung, as being
already victorious; Revocatus, Saturninus, and Saturus threatened the
people that beheld them with the judgments of God: and as they passed
over against the balcony of Hilarian, they said to him: "You judge us in
this world, but God will judge you to the next." The people, enraged at
their boldness, begged they might be scourged, which was granted. They
accordingly passed before the Venatores,[4] or hunters, each of whom
gave them a lash. They rejoiced exceedingly in being thought worthy to
resemble our Saviour in his sufferings. God granted to each of them the
death they desired; for when they were discoursing together about what
kind of martyrdom would be agreeable to each, Saturninus declared that
be would choose to be exposed to beasts of several sorts in order to the
aggravation of his sufferings. Accordingly he and Revocatus, after
having been attacked by a leopard, were also assaulted by a bear.
Saturus dreaded nothing so much as a bear, and therefore hoped a leopard
would dispatch him at once with his teeth. He was then exposed to a wild
boar, but the beast turned upon his keeper, who received such a wound
from him that he died in a few days after, and Saturus was only dragged
along by him. Then they tied the martyr to the bridge near a bear, but
that beast came not out of his lodge, so that Saturus, being sound and
not hurt, was called upon for a second encounter. This gave him an
opportunity of speaking to Pudens, the jailer that had been converted.
The martyr encouraged him to constancy in the faith, and said to him:
"You see I have not yet been hurt by any beast, as I desired and
foretold; believe then steadfastly in Christ; I am going where you will
{539} see a leopard with one bite take away my life." It happened so,
for a leopard being let out upon him, covered him all over with blood,
whereupon the people jeering, cried out, "He is well baptized." The
martyr said to Pudens, "Go, remember my faith, and let our sufferings
rather strengthen than trouble you. Give me the ring you have on your
finger." Saturus, having dipped it in his wound, gave it him back to
keep as a pledge to animate him to a constancy in his faith, and fell
down dead soon after. Thus he went first to glory to wait for Perpetua,
according to her vision. Some with Mabillon,[5] think this Pudens is the
martyr honored in Africa, on the 29th of April.
In the mean time, Perpetua and Felicitas had been exposed to a wild cow;
Perpetua was first attacked, and the cow having tossed her up, she fell
on her back. Then putting herself in a sitting posture, and perceiving
her clothes were torn, she gathered them about her in the best manner
she could, to cover herself, thinking more of decency than her
sufferings. Getting up, not to seem disconsolate, she tied up her hair,
which was fallen loose, and perceiving Felicitas on the ground much hurt
by a toss of the cow, she helped her to rise. They stood together,
expecting another assault from the beasts, but the people crying out
that it was enough, they were led to the gate Sanevivaria, where those
that were not killed by the beasts were dispatched at the end of the
shows by the confectores. Perpetua was here received by Rusticus, a
catechumen, who attended her. This admirable woman seemed just returning
to herself out of a long ecstasy, and asked when she was to fight the
wild cow. Being told what had passed, she could not believe it till she
saw on her body and clothes the marks of what she had suffered, and knew
the catechumen. With regard to this circumstance of her acts, St. Austin
cries out, "Where was she when assaulted and torn by so furious a wild
beast, without feeling her wounds, and when, after that furious combat,
she asked when it would begin? What did she, not to see what all the
world saw? What did she enjoy who did not feel such pain. By what love,
by what vision, by what potion was she so transported out of herself,
and as it were divinely inebriated, to seem without feeling in a mortal
body?" She called for her brother, and said to him and Rusticus,
"Continue firm in the faith, love one another, and be not scandalized at
our sufferings." All the martyrs were now brought to the place of their
butchery. But the people, not yet satisfied with beholding blood, cried
out to have them brought into the middle of the amphitheatre, that they
might have the pleasure of seeing them receive the last blow. Upon this,
some of the martyrs rose up, and having given one another the kiss of
peace, went of their own accord into the middle of the arena; others
were dispatched without speaking, or stirring out of the place they were
in. St. Perpetua fell into the hands of a very timorous and unskilful
apprentice of the gladiators, who, with a trembling hand, gave her many
slight wounds, which made her languish a long time. Thus, says St.
Austin, did two women, amidst fierce beasts and the swords of
gladiators, vanquish the devil and all his fury. The day of their
martyrdom was the 7th of March, as it is marked in the most ancient
martyrologies, and in the Roman calendar as old as the year 354,
published by Bucherins. St. Prosper says they suffered at Carthage,
which agrees with all the circumstances. Their bodies were in the great
church of Carthage, in the fifth age, as St. Victor[6] informs us. Saint
Austin says, their festival drew yearly more to honor their memory in
their church, than curiosity had done to their martyrdom. They are
mentioned in the canon of the Mass.
Footnotes:
1. The prisons of the ancient Romans, still to be seen in many old
amphitheatres, &c., are dismal holes: having at most one very small
aperture for light, just enough to show day.
2. These stocks, called Nervus, were a wooden machine with many holes,
in which the prisoners' feet were fastened and stretched to great
distances, as to the fourth or fifth holes, for the increase of
their torment. St. Perpatua remarks, they were chained, and also set
in this engine during their stay in the camp prison, which seems to
have been several days, in expectation of the day of the public
show.
3. By the conclusions which St. Perpetua was led to make from her two
visions, it evidently appears, that the church, in that early age,
believed the doctrine of the expiation of certain sins after death,
and prayed for the faithful departed. This must be allowed, even
though it should be pretended that her visions were not from God.
But neither St. Austin, nor any other ancient father, ever
entertained the least suspicion on that head. Nor can we presume
that the goodness of God would permit one full of such ardent love
at him to be imposed upon in a point of this nature. The Oxonian
editor of these acts knew not what other answer to make to this
ancient testimony, than that St. Perpetua seems to have been
Montanist (p. 14.) But this unjust censure Oodwell (Diss. Cypr. A.
n. 8, p. 15) and others have confuted. And could St. Austin, with
the whole Catholic church, have ranked a Montanist among the most
illustrious martyrs? That father himself, in many places of his
works, clearly explains the same doctrine of the Catholic faith,
concerning a state of temporary sufferings in the other world, and
conformably to it speaks of these visions. (L. de Orig. Animae, l. 1,
c. 10, p. 343, and l. 4, c. 18, p. 401, t. 10, &c.) He says, that
Dinocrates must have received baptism, but afterwards sinned,
perhaps by having been seduced by his pagan father into some act of
superstition, or by lying, or by some other faults of which children
in that tender age may be guilty. Illus aetatis pueri at mentiri et
verum iniqui, at confiteri et negare jam possum. Lib. 1. c. 10. See
Orsi Diss. de Actis SS. Perpetuae et Felicitatis. Florentiae 1738, {}.
4. Pro ordine venatorum. Venatores, is the name given to those that
were armed to encounter the beast; who put themselves in ranks, with
whips in their hands, and each of them gave a last to the Bestiarii,
or those condemned to the beasts, whom they obliged to pass naked
before them in the middle of the pit of arena.
5. Analect. t. 3, p. 403.
6. Victor, l. 1, p. 4.
{540}