Chapter XIII.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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!
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!