It would seem almost as if Colette had a natural love for mountains, so generally do we find her returning to them, and laying at their feet the foundations of her dearest homes. Perhaps the mystery of their blue-veined valleys, and the wondrous changes wrought by the sun and clouds on their sides, filled her with a sense of love and awe. But it was not from among the mountains that she was summoned away. The call to the everlasting hills came to her on the flats of Flanders, in the city of Ghent. There she died on March 6th, 1447, laying herself down to repose as gladly as the weary labourer in harvest time, who returns to his home and to sleep after a day of incessant toil.
When the Emperor Joseph II. suppressed many religious houses in his dominions, in 1785, the Poor Clares of Ghent took up the body of S. Colette, and traversing France, laid it beneath the mountain shadows at Poligny. The holy relics were secreted at the time of the French Revolution, and on the return of tranquillity, they were placed in the parish church; but the Poor Clares having re-established themselves at Poligny, the bones of the saint have been restored to them.
March 7
SS. Perpetua, Felicitas, Saturus, and Companions, MM. in Africa, A.D. 203.
S. Eubulus, M. at Cæsarea in Palestine, A.D. 308.
S. Paul the Simple, H. in the Thebaid, 4th cent.
S. Gaudiosus, B. of Brescia, circ. A.D. 445.
S. Easterwin, Ab. of Wearmouth, A.D. 785. (See S. Benedict Biscop, Jan. 12th; p. 172.)
S. Thomas Aquinas, Doct., O.P., at Fossa Nuova, A.D. 1274.
[Roman and all Western Martyrologies on this day, but by the Greeks on March 1st. Authorities: – The genuine Acts of these martyrs, and a sermon by S. Augustine of Hippo on them. The names of Perpetua and Felicitas occur in the Canon of the Mass. The first part of the Acts was written by S. Perpetua herself, and reaches to the eve of her martyrdom. S. Saturus then took the pen, and added the account of his vision; and when he had gained his crown, an eye-witness of their passion closed the account. Tertullian quotes these Acts in his Book De Anima, c. 55; and S. Augustine in his Sermons, 280, 283, and 294. They were anciently read publicly in the churches of Africa.]
A violent persecution broke out under the Emperor Severus, in 202. It reached Africa the following year; when, by order of Minutius Timinianus, or Firminianus, five catechumens were apprehended at Carthage for the faith; namely, Revocatus, and his fellow-slave Felicitas, Saturninus, and Secundulus, and Vivia Perpetua. Felicitas was expecting her confinement; 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 S. 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, for some days before they were committed to prison, were 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, a Christian.' At that word my father in a rage fell upon me, as if he would have pulled out my eyes, 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 bodily sufferings. A few days after this we were put into prison; I was shocked at the horror and darkness of the place; 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, because I had not my baby with me. 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 was then brought to me almost famished, and I gave it the breast. I recommended him afterward 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 special favourite of heaven; pray to God to reveal to you whether this imprisonment will end in martyrdom, or not.' I, knowing God gave me daily tokens of His goodness, answered, full of confidence, that I would inform him on the morrow. I therefore asked that favour of God, and had this vision. I saw a golden ladder, which reached from earth to heaven; but so narrow that only one could mount it at a time. To the two sides were fastened all sorts of iron instruments, swords, lances, hooks, and knives; so that if any one went up carelessly, he was in great danger of having his flesh torn. At the foot of the ladder lay a dragon of enormous size, who kept guard to turn back and terrify those that endeavoured to mount it. The first that went up was Saturus, who was not apprehended with us, but voluntarily surrendered himself afterward on our account: when he had reached 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 I saw an extensive garden, 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 awakened me, chewing something very sweet. As soon as I had related this vision to my brother, we both concluded that we should suffer death.
"After some days, a rumour having got about 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 grey hairs, if I yet deserve to be called your father; if I have brought you up. I pray you consider that my love of you made me always prefer you to your brothers, and make me not now a reproach to mankind. Have respect for your mother and your aunt; have compassion on your child that cannot survive you; lay aside this obstinacy, lest you ruin us all; for not one of us will dare open his lips any more if misfortune befall you.' He took me by the hands at the same time, and kissed them; he threw himself at my feet in tears. I confess, I was pierced with sorrow when I considered that my father was the only person of our family that would not rejoice at my martyrdom. I endeavoured 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, much concerned. Next day, whilst we were at dinner, a person came in suddenly to summon us to examination. The report of this soon brought a vast crowd of people into the audience chamber. We were placed on a sort of scaffold before the judge, Hilarian, procurator of the province, the proconsul having lately died. All who were questioned before me boldly confessed Jesus Christ. When it came to my turn, my father stood forward, holding up 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, nor the tender innocence of a child, move you? Sacrifice for the prosperity of the emperors.' 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 was not yet weaned, I immediately sent Pomponius the deacon, to demand him