During the reign of the Emperor Severus, several catechumens were apprehended at Carthage in Africa. Among these were Revocatus and his fellow servant Felicitas, Saturninus and Secundulus, and Vivia Perpetua, a lady by birth and education, who was married to a man of wealth. Perpetua was about twenty-two years of age, and was suckling an infant. She has left us the following particulars of her martyrdom:
The last in the group was Perpetua. Her placid look, her noble gait, betrayed the Christian matron. She passed through the crowd and saw no one, for her beautiful eyes were fixed upon the ground. By her side was Felicitas, rejoicing that her safe delivery enabled her to encounter the wild beasts. The devil had prepared a savage cow for them. They were put into a net. Felicitas was brought forward the first. She was tossed into the air and fell upon her back. Observing that one side of her dress was torn, she adjusted it, heedless of her pain, because thoughtful for modesty. Having recovered from the fall, she put up her hair which was dishevelled by the shock, for it was not seemly that a martyr should win her palm and have the appearance of one distracted by grief. This done, she stood up. Seeing Felicitas much bruised by her fall, she went to her and giving her her hand, she raised her from the ground. Both were now ready for a fresh attack but the people were moved to pity, and the martyrs were led to the gate called Sana-Vivaria. There Perpetua, like one that is roused from sleep, awoke from the deep ecstasy of her spirit. She looked around her, and said to the astonished multitude: “When will the cow attack us?” They told her that it had already attacked them. She could not believe it until her wounds and torn dress reminded her of what had happened. Then beckoning to her brother, and to a catechumen named Busticus, she thus spoke to them. “Be staunch in the faith, and love one another, and be not shocked at our sufferings.”
God soon took Secundulus from this world, for he died while he was in the prison. Saturninus and Revocatus were exposed first to a leopard, and then to a bear. Saturus was exposed to a boar, and then to a bear, which would not come out of its den. Thus was he twice left uninjured, but at the close of the games he was thrown to a leopard, which bit him so severely that he was all covered with blood, and as he was taken from the amphitheatre, the people jeered at him for this second baptism, and said: “Saved, washed! Saved, washed!” He was then carried off, dying as he was, to the appointed place, there to be despatched by the sword with the rest. But the people demanded that they should be led back to the middle of the amphitheatre, that their eyes might feast on the sight, and watch the sword as it pierced them. The Martyrs hearing their request, cheerfully stood up and marched to the place where the people would have them go. But first they embraced one another, that the sacrifice of their martyrdom might be consummated with the solemn kiss of peace. All of them, without so much as a movement or a moan, received the swordman’s blow, save only Saturus, who died from his previous wounds, and Perpetua, who was permitted to feel more than the rest. Her executioner was a novice in his work, and could not thrust his sword through her ribs: she slightly moaned, then took his right hand, and pointing his sword towards her throat, told him that that was the place to strike. Perhaps it was that such a woman could not be otherwise slain than by her own consent, for the unclean spirit feared her.
Dom Prosper Guéranger:
At Nicomedia, the birthday of the holy martyrs Victor and Victorinus, who were, with Claudian and his wife Bassa, subjected to many torments during three years and were then thrust into prison where they ended the pilgrimage of life.
At Tortona, St. Marcian, bishop and martyr, who received the crown of immortality by being killed under Trajan for the glory of Christ.
At Constantinople, St. Evagrius, who was elected bishop by the Catholics in the reign of Valens, and being exiled by that emperor, departed for heaven.
In Cyprus, in the time of the emperor Decius, St. Conon, martyr, who, being compelled to run before a chariot with his feet pierced with nails, fell on his knees, and breathing a prayer expired.
Also the passion of forty-two holy martyrs, who were arrested in Amorium and taken to Syria where they received the palm of martyrdom after a valiant combat.
At Bologna, St. Basil, bishop, who was consecrated by Pope St. Sylvester, and by word and example governed with great holiness the church entrusted to his care.
At Barcelona in Spain, blessed Ollegarius, who was first a canon and afterwards bishop of Barcelona and archbishop of Tarragona.
At Ghent in Flanders, St. Colette, virgin, who at first professed the rule of the Third Order of St. Francis, and afterwards, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, restored the primitive discipline in a great number of monasteries of Nuns of the Second Order. As she was adorned with heavenly virtues and performed innumerable miracles, she was inscribed on the list of the saints by Pope Pius VII.
And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.
Thanks be to God.
“As soon as our persecutors had apprehended us, my father came to me and, out of his great love for me, he tried to make me change my resolution. I said to him: ‘Father, I cannot consent to call myself other than what I am — a Christian.’ At these words he rushed at me, threatening to tear out my eyes. But he only struck me, and then he left me, when he found that the arguments suggested to him by the devil were of no avail. A few days after this, we were baptised and the Holy Ghost inspired me to look on this baptism as a preparation for bodily suffering. A few more days elapsed, and we were sent to prison. I was terrified, for I was not accustomed to such darkness. The report soon spread that we were to be brought to trial. My father left the city, for he was heartbroken, and he came to me, hoping to shake my purpose. These were his words to me: ‘My child, have pity on my old age. Have pity on your father, if I deserve to be called Father. Think of your brothers, think of your mother, think of your son, who cannot live when you are gone. Give up this mad purpose, or you will bring misery upon your family.’ While saying this, which he did out of love for me, he threw himself at my feet and wept bitterly, and said he besought this of me, not as his child, but as his lady. I was moved to tears to see my aged parent in this grief, for I knew that he was the only one of my family that would not rejoice at my being a martyr. I tried to console him and said: ‘I will do whatever God will ordain. You know that we belong to God, and not to ourselves.’ He then left me and was very sad. On the following day, as we were taking our repast, they came upon us suddenly and summoned us to trial. We reached the forum. We were made to mount a platform. My companions were questioned and they confessed the faith. My turn came next and I immediately saw my father approaching towards me, holding my infant son. He drew me from the platform, and besought me, saying: ‘Have pity on your baby!’ Hilarian, too, the governor, said to me: ‘Have pity on your aged father, have pity on your baby! Offer up sacrifice for the Emperors.’ I answered him: ‘I cannot. I am a Christian.’ Whereupon, he sentences all of us to be devoured by the wild beasts and we, full of joy, return to our prison. But as I had hitherto always had my child with me in prison and fed him at my breast, I immediately sent word to my father, beseeching him to let him come to me. He refused, and from that moment neither the baby asked for the breast, nor did I suffer inconvenience, for God thus willed it.”All this is taken from the written account left by the blessed Perpetua, and it brings us to the day before she was put to death. As regards Felicitas, she was in the eighth month of her pregnancy when she was apprehended. The day of the public shows was near at hand, and the fear that her martyrdom would be deferred on account of her being with child made her very sad. Her fellow-martyrs, too, felt much for her, for they could not bear the thought of seeing so worthy a companion disappointed in the hope, she had in common with themselves, of so soon reaching Heaven. Uniting, therefore, in prayer, they with tears besought God in her behalf. It was the last day but two before the public shows. No sooner was their prayer ended than Felicitas was seized with pain. One of the gaolers who overheard her moaning, cried out: “If this pain seem to you so great, what will you do when you are being devoured by the wild beasts, which you pretended to heed not when you were told to offer sacrifice?” She answered: “What I am suffering now, it is indeed I that suffer. But there, there will be another in me, who will suffer for me, because I will be suffering for Him.” She was delivered of a daughter, and one of our sisters adopted the infant as her own. The day of their victory dawned. They left their prison for the amphitheatre, cheerful, and with faces beaming with joy, as though they were going to Heaven. They were excited, but it was from delight, not from fear.
The last in the group was Perpetua. Her placid look, her noble gait, betrayed the Christian matron. She passed through the crowd and saw no one, for her beautiful eyes were fixed upon the ground. By her side was Felicitas, rejoicing that her safe delivery enabled her to encounter the wild beasts. The devil had prepared a savage cow for them. They were put into a net. Felicitas was brought forward the first. She was tossed into the air and fell upon her back. Observing that one side of her dress was torn, she adjusted it, heedless of her pain, because thoughtful for modesty. Having recovered from the fall, she put up her hair which was dishevelled by the shock, for it was not seemly that a martyr should win her palm and have the appearance of one distracted by grief. This done, she stood up. Seeing Felicitas much bruised by her fall, she went to her and giving her her hand, she raised her from the ground. Both were now ready for a fresh attack but the people were moved to pity, and the martyrs were led to the gate called Sana-Vivaria. There Perpetua, like one that is roused from sleep, awoke from the deep ecstasy of her spirit. She looked around her, and said to the astonished multitude: “When will the cow attack us?” They told her that it had already attacked them. She could not believe it until her wounds and torn dress reminded her of what had happened. Then beckoning to her brother, and to a catechumen named Busticus, she thus spoke to them. “Be staunch in the faith, and love one another, and be not shocked at our sufferings.”
God soon took Secundulus from this world, for he died while he was in the prison. Saturninus and Revocatus were exposed first to a leopard, and then to a bear. Saturus was exposed to a boar, and then to a bear, which would not come out of its den. Thus was he twice left uninjured, but at the close of the games he was thrown to a leopard, which bit him so severely that he was all covered with blood, and as he was taken from the amphitheatre, the people jeered at him for this second baptism, and said: “Saved, washed! Saved, washed!” He was then carried off, dying as he was, to the appointed place, there to be despatched by the sword with the rest. But the people demanded that they should be led back to the middle of the amphitheatre, that their eyes might feast on the sight, and watch the sword as it pierced them. The Martyrs hearing their request, cheerfully stood up and marched to the place where the people would have them go. But first they embraced one another, that the sacrifice of their martyrdom might be consummated with the solemn kiss of peace. All of them, without so much as a movement or a moan, received the swordman’s blow, save only Saturus, who died from his previous wounds, and Perpetua, who was permitted to feel more than the rest. Her executioner was a novice in his work, and could not thrust his sword through her ribs: she slightly moaned, then took his right hand, and pointing his sword towards her throat, told him that that was the place to strike. Perhaps it was that such a woman could not be otherwise slain than by her own consent, for the unclean spirit feared her.
Dom Prosper Guéranger:
The real Feast of these two illustrious heroines of the Faith is tomorrow, which is the anniversary of their martyrdom and triumph. But the memory of the Angel of the Schools, Saint Thomas Aquinas, shines so brightly on the seventh of March that it almost eclipses the two glorious stars of Africa. In consequence of this, the Holy See allows certain Churches to anticipate their Feast and keep it today. We take advantage of this permission and at once offer to the Christian reader the glorious spectacle of which Carthage was the scene in the year 203. Nothing could give us a clearer idea of that spirit of the Gospel according to which we are now studying to conform our whole life. Here are two women, two mothers. God asks great sacrifices from them. He asks them to give Him their lives, nay, more than their lives. And they obey with that simplicity and devotedness which made Abraham merit to be the Father of Believers.
Their two names, as Saint Augustine observes, are a presage of what awaits them in Heaven: a perpetual felicity. The example they set of Christian fortitude, is, of itself, a victory, which secures to the true Faith a triumph in the land of Africa. Saint Cyprian will soon follow them with his bold and eloquent appeal to the African Christians, inspiring them to die for their Faith. But his words, grand as they are, are less touching than the few pages written by the hand of the brave Perpetua who, though only twenty-two years of age, relates with all the self-possession of an angel, the trials she had to go through for God. And when she had to hurry off to the amphitheatre, she puts her pen into another’s hand, bidding him go on where she leaves off, and write the rest of the battle. As we read these charming pages, we seem to be in the company of the Martyrs. The power of divine grace, which could produce such heroism amidst a people demoralised by paganism, appears so great that even we grow courageous. And the very fact that the instruments employed by God for the destruction of the pagan world were frequently women, we cannot help saying with Saint John Chrysostom: “I feel an indescribable pleasure in reading the Acts of the Martyrs. But when the Martyr is a woman, my enthusiasm is doubled. For the frailer the instrument, the greater is the grace, the brighter the trophy, the grander the victory. And this, not because of her weakness, but because the devil is conquered by her by whom he once conquered us. He conquered by a woman, and now a woman conquers him. She that was once his weapon, is now his destroyer, brave and invincible. That first one sinned, and died. This one died that she might not sin. Eve was flushed by a lying promise and broke the law of God. Our heroine disdained to live, when her living was to depend on her breaking her faith to Him who was her dearest Lord. What excuse, after this, for men, if they be soft and cowards? Can they hope for pardon when women fought the holy battle with such brave, and manly, and generous hearts?”
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Perpetua! Felicitas! Oh glorious and prophetic names which come like two bright stars of March, pouring out upon us your rays of light and life! You are heard in the songs of the Angels, and we poor sinners, as we echo them on Earth, are told to love and hope. You remind us of that brave woman who, as the Scripture says, kept up the battle begun by men: The valiant men ceased: who will follow them? A Mother in Israel (Judges v. 7). Glory be to that Almighty power which loves to choose the weak things of the world that it may confound the strong! (1 Corinthians i. 27). Glory to the Church of Africa, the daughter of the Church of Rome. And glory to the Church of Carthage, which had not then heard the preachings of her Cyprian, and yet could produce two such noble hearts!
As to you, Perpetua, you are held in veneration by the whole Christian world. Your name is mentioned by God’s priests in the Holy Mass, and thus your memory is associated with the Sacrifice of the Man-God, for love of whom you laid down your life. And those pages written by your own hand, how they reveal to us the generous character of your soul! How they comment those words of the Canticle: Love is strong as death! (Canticles viii. 6). It was your love of God that made you suffer, and die, and conquer. Even before the water of Baptism had touched you, you were enrolled among the Martyrs. When the hard trial came of resisting a father who wished you to lay down the palm of martyrdom, how bravely you triumphed over thy filial affection in order to save that which is due to our Father who is in Heaven! Nay, when the hardest test came — when the baby that fed at your breast was taken from you in your prison — even then your love was strong enough for the sacrifice, as was Abraham’s, when he had to immolate his Isaac.
Your fellow-martyrs deserve our admiration. They are so grand in their courage. But you, dear Saint, surpass them all. Your love makes you more than brave in your sufferings, it makes you forget them. “Where were you” we would ask you in the words of Saint Augustine, “where were you, that you did not feel the goading of that furious beast, asking when it was to be, as though it had not been? Where were you? What did you see that made you see not this ? On what were you feasting that made you dead to sense? What was the love that absorbed, what was the sight that distracted, what was the chalice that inebriated you? And yet the ties of flesh were still holding you, the claims of death were still upon you, the corruptible body was still weighing you down! But our Lord had prepared you for the final struggle by asking sacrifice at your hands. This made your life wholly spiritual, and gave your soul to dwell by love, with Him, who had asked you for all and received it. And thus living in union with Jesus, your spirit was all but a stranger to the body it animated. It was impatient to be wholly with its Sovereign Good. Your eager hand directs the sword that is to set you free. And as the executioner severs the last tie that holds you, how voluntary was your sacrifice, how hearty your welcome of death! Truly, you were the Valiant, the Strong Woman (Proverbs xxxi. 10) that conquered the wicked serpent! Your greatness of soul has merited for you a high place among the heroines of our holy Faith, and for [eighteen] hundred years you have been honoured by the enthusiastic devotion and love of the servants of God.
And you, too, Felicitas, receive the homage of our veneration, for you were found worthy to be a fellow-martyr with Perpetua. Though she was a rich matron of Carthage, and you a servant, yet Baptism and Martyrdom made you companions and sisters. The Lady and the Slave embraced, for Martyrdom made you equal. And as the spectators saw you hand in hand together, they must have felt that there was a power in the Religion they persecuted which would put an end to slavery. The power and grace of Jesus triumphed in you, as it did in Perpetua. And thus was fulfilled your sublime answer to the pagan who dared to jeer you — that when the hour of trial came, it would not be you that would suffer, but Christ, who would suffer in you. Heaven is now the reward of your sacrifice. Well did you merit it. And that baby that was born in your prison, what a happy child to have for its mother a Martyr in Heaven! How would you not bless both it and the mother who adopted it! Oh what fitness in such a soul as yours for the Kingdom of God! (Luke ix. 62) Not once looking back, but ever bravely speeding onwards to Him that called you. Your felicity is perpetual in Heaven. Your glory on Earth will never cease.
And now, dear Saints, Perpetua and Felicitas, intercede for us during this season of grace. Go with your palms in your hands to the throne of God, and beseech Him to pour down His mercy upon us. It is true, the days of paganism are gone by and there are no persecutors clamouring for our blood. You and countless other Martyrs have won victory for Faith, and that Faith is now ours. We are Christians. But there is a second paganism which has taken deep root among us. It is the source of that corruption which now pervades every rank of society, and its own two sources are indifference which chills the heart, and sensuality which induces cowardice. Holy Martyrs, pray for us that we may profit by the example of your virtues, and that the thought of your heroic devotedness may urge us to be courageous in the sacrifices which God claims at our hands. Pray, too, for the Churches which are now being established on that very spot of Africa which was the scene of your glorious martyrdom: bless them, and obtain for them, by your powerful intercession, firmness of faith and purity of morals.Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:
At Nicomedia, the birthday of the holy martyrs Victor and Victorinus, who were, with Claudian and his wife Bassa, subjected to many torments during three years and were then thrust into prison where they ended the pilgrimage of life.
At Tortona, St. Marcian, bishop and martyr, who received the crown of immortality by being killed under Trajan for the glory of Christ.
At Constantinople, St. Evagrius, who was elected bishop by the Catholics in the reign of Valens, and being exiled by that emperor, departed for heaven.
In Cyprus, in the time of the emperor Decius, St. Conon, martyr, who, being compelled to run before a chariot with his feet pierced with nails, fell on his knees, and breathing a prayer expired.
Also the passion of forty-two holy martyrs, who were arrested in Amorium and taken to Syria where they received the palm of martyrdom after a valiant combat.
At Bologna, St. Basil, bishop, who was consecrated by Pope St. Sylvester, and by word and example governed with great holiness the church entrusted to his care.
At Barcelona in Spain, blessed Ollegarius, who was first a canon and afterwards bishop of Barcelona and archbishop of Tarragona.
At Ghent in Flanders, St. Colette, virgin, who at first professed the rule of the Third Order of St. Francis, and afterwards, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, restored the primitive discipline in a great number of monasteries of Nuns of the Second Order. As she was adorned with heavenly virtues and performed innumerable miracles, she was inscribed on the list of the saints by Pope Pius VII.
And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.
Thanks be to God.
