On the Cross

As at every step in the life of St. Alonso we meet with the presence of Our Blessed Lord and His Virgin Mother, of the Angels and the glorified saints; so too and naturally, again and again, we come across the enemy of God and of man. Like the patriarch Job, the holy Brother was, by Divine permission, handed over to the temptations and hatred of Satan. Our Saint’s practice of perfect conformity to the Will of God, made him ready for any trials which might yet await him before he attained his crown. But our Dear Lord, out of pity for His faithful servant, chose to warn him of the coming struggle.

As St. Alonso one morning was hearing Mass, his soul was somewhat in trouble, and God spoke to him these prophetic words: “Be glad, Alonso, to suffer now; at the hour of thy death I shall console thee.” That very day began a martyrdom, which was only to close with his death. He tells us that one of his greatest, though hidden, penances was the clear view God had given him of himself, so foul, so wicked, so abominable that the very sight was detestable to him. He would fain have fled from himself, and it was a torture to him day and night to be chained to so hateful an enemy, and be unable to free himself from himself.¹1Memor., n. 200. January, 1613.

And, with this lowly opinion of himself, he had for all others a positive reverence. When he met anyone, he looked upon him as an angel, and used to say to God: “Would that I were like that man!”²2Memor., n. 189.

Constantly, night after night, he suffered the most acute pains, and yet he owns that this was the least of the crosses which he had to endure. Ever full of a wish to suffer more, he begged of God to send him fresh trials; and whenever God answered his prayers, he only asked for more. To a Brother who came to see him in the morning, he acknowledged that he had endured more than if he had scourged himself to blood the live-long night. “For these sufferings,” he said, “I have no other remedy than to bear them for the love of God, and to thank Him for the favour done me in giving me this treasure out of His Divine charity.” Eating had become to him a fresh source of suffering; besides the loss of his teeth, his food appeared to have a loathsome odour, and this smell used to haunt him all the day, whether it was physical or moral is not clear. He fancied also that he was insupportable to others. But this was merely a fancy; for, on the contrary, a most rare and delicate fragrance came forth from his clothes, and was noticed by those to whom they were sent to be washed.

With all this there came back upon Alonso his old trial of scruples. Though so many were the proofs that he had of God’s special affection towards him, he felt as dry and cold as if God did not exist. To add to all this, his bad health frequently prevented him from approaching Holy Communion. Heaven, however, did not leave him without some consolation. “The infirmarian informed me,” he writes, “by Father Rector’s desire, that I was to communicate only on Sundays. Up to that time I had been accustomed to receive the Blessed Eucharist on Tuesdays and Thursdays also. I obeyed at once, and, until fresh orders, I continued to communicate only on Sundays.”

When he was recovering from his sickness, he was anxious to get up, but his Superior sent him word not to leave his bed for some time, and even then to stay quietly in his room.

On All Saints’ morning our Saint was kneeling with the other Brothers, hearing Mass before Communion. Earnestly he commended himself, as was his wont, to Mary and to her blessed parents, St. Anne and St. Joachim; to her Spouse, St. Joseph; to all the Patriarchs and Prophets, to all the Martyrs and Confessors, and to the whole Court of Heaven. He begged them to intercede for his Brothers, who were going with him that morning to receive their Lord, that they might all be prepared to welcome Him as He would desire. After he had approached Holy Communion he saw, in a mysterious way, how our Lord was in them all and in each one of them.

One evening, in the January of 1613, St. Alonso was toiling up the principal stairs, which still exist, and was speaking with God, as was his wont. Just as he had nearly reached the topmost step, a stifling stench burst upon him like a whirlwind from a window that looked out on the court of the Refectory. It struck him down and almost suffocated him. He had but just time to call on Heaven for aid, and then sank senseless on the steps. Had the oppression lasted more than the space of a “Hail Mary,” it would have taken away his life. And if some power, which he always believed to have been his angel guardian, had not caught him by the shoulders and so held him up, he must have fallen backward down the flight of stairs. A breeze of fresh air played about him, and he arose as vigorous as before.³3Most of the biographers confound this with the occurrence which follows. Father Colin, however, says they were two distinct events, and this appears evident from the discrepancies in the two accounts of Father Marimon.

Another day in the same month and year, he was going up the great flight of stairs about half-past three in the afternoon. He had just been reading the rules of the Society to some of the less educated lay-Brothers. When he had reached the very last step, he suddenly fell back and was hurled down to the first landing. The nature of his fall appeared extraordinary; for, though our Saint was then nearly bent double, instead of falling on his face, as he most naturally would have done, he shot backwards through the air, and came with tremendous force upon his head. Two Scholastics, who were in the corridor at the top of the stairs, saw his fall and ran to ring the Community bell. On hearing it toll at an unusual hour, all the Community hastened to the spot.⁴4Fathers Marimon and Colin and Brother Serra, who record the occurrence, were eye-witnesses. Alonso was lying there insensible; but apparently with no other injury than two wounds upon the top of his head.

“We carried him,” says Father Marimon, “in our arms to his cell. Doctors and surgeons were summoned, and they declared that such a fall could not but be fatal to one who was eighty years old. A violent fever supervened. There was no appearance of recovery, but still the two wounds remained unchanged. Brother Colin watched by his bedside until the following morning, when he asked St. Alonso how he had passed the night. Although our Saint was always so measured in his words, he answered, ‘I have suffered pains as it were of Hell.’ And he owned to one of the Fathers that, throughout all that illness, which lasted for several days, the devils had tortured him with greater temptations than he had ever endured all through his life:—for while his body was in such agony his soul was afflicted with the hearing of the blasphemies of the evil spirits, and with fears and weariness. It would seem as if the infernal enemy was resolved to do him to death, by not allowing him any rest by day or by night. His illness was a source of profit to all around him, by his wonderful examples of patience. Father Jerome Lagaria⁵5Professor of Theology at Montesion. overheard him, in face of some hideous temptation, cry out; ‘Take it away at once; you will have to pay for it.’”

“Another time he caught these words from the sufferer’s lips; ‘More, Oh Lord, more suffering for Thy love!’ Brother Carrió, who was then the infirmarian, overheard the same words; yet he never noticed in him the faintest shade of impatience: and even when he asked him, as he often did, what he could fancy to eat, our Saint never gave other answer but this: ‘Whatever the Brother likes.’ The only times he complained was when they gave him any delicacy, because—as he put it—they were providing him with matter for greater sufferings in Purgatory.”

In a letter written after our Saint’s death by Father Colin to Father Marimon,⁶6Of Sept. 21, 1618. MS., Montesion. he says, “While Alonso was ill after his fall, I was sent one night to keep him company in his room. I noticed that all night long he kept repeating ejaculations and speaking with God. If he paused for a short time and seemed to fall asleep, in another moment I heard him again begin to recite psalms and other prayers. Near midnight, I offered something to drink, but before he would take it he asked me what o’clock it was, and begged me to be sure, lest he should miss Holy Communion on the following day. I told him not to trouble himself and that he might safely take the draught; besides that, the infirmarian had ordered me to give it to him at that hour; so he took it at once, though it seemed to be very nauseous.”

“One day,” Father Colin goes on to record; “in another illness, I went to visit Alonso; he was alone, and I noticed that his mouth was so dry that he found it very difficult to speak, and I did not dare to begin a conversation. I only asked him how he was, and by chance the word ‘sufferings’ dropped from my lips. It was extraordinary how, weak though he was, on hearing this, he raised himself up a little, and, leaning against his pillow, with a wonderful energy spoke to me for more than a quarter of an hour upon suffering. He recalled what St. Paul had endured; and he explained those words, ‘The angel of Satan buffets me;’ and, ‘I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ;’ and what God intended to teach him when He said, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’ He displayed in his words profound knowledge and a burning desire of suffering.”

Jerome Crespin⁷7V. p. 98. says, “I recollect the Rector, Father Gil, telling us that when the Brother was in bed after his fall, both the doctor and the Rector forbade him to meditate or pray, because it would hurt his head. He was so exact in obeying that he made every effort to forget prayer and to distract his mind. He found it impossible to do as he was bid, and he sent for the Rector and said to him: ‘Father, I am making every effort, but I cannot forget God.’ So that, seeing the struggle only did him greater harm, the Father Rector told him not to contend any more.” His illness baffled the skill of the doctors. St. Alonso owned to Brother Serra that the fall might have been the work of the devil; and when ordered by Father Torrens to speak more plainly, he acknowledged that it was so.⁸8Summ., p. 109. Evid. of Brother Serra.

Preternatural as it was in its beginning, so the effects of that fall ended in a miraculous manner. One night our Blessed Lord appeared to the Saint in the midst of his hand-to-hand conflict with the enemy, and, with a voice of authority, bade the demons to leave the sufferer in peace. And then, turning to him with tender words, filled him with heavenly joy, and instantly restored him to health. The following morning the surgeon found that his wounds, which had remained in the same state for so many days, if not weeks, and which he had seen quite fresh the night before, were now completely cured. Nor did he think it necessary to visit him again.

Brother Colin had the privilege of being one of our Saint’s most special friends, and he owed this, not merely to the tender charity with which he nursed the old man when ill, but still more to the extraordinary innocence and holiness which Alonso recognised in him. He was then twenty-one years old, and he had passed some seven years in the Society, as he entered religion as a boy of fourteen. Like St. Aloysius, he sheltered the lily within a hedge of thorns, and was as cruel towards himself as he was gentle and loving towards others. In devoting himself in after life to the missions of the Philippine Islands, he was in all probability acting under the impulse of our Saint’s love for souls.

God vouchsafed to unveil to Brother Rodriguez in a supernatural way the holiness of this young scholastic. “One Tuesday I was in the Church preparing, as best I could, for Holy Communion;” writes Alonso in the June of 1615; “I was kneeling, and through God’s grace I had some devotion; and when the Mass was ended the Brother (Francis Colin) who was serving it went to Communion with me. I received at that moment so great a light as to his holiness and purity that it seemed to me that he was more than a mere angel, and that he had risen to the rank of the archangels. I had been greatly edified at the sight of his holiness, and he held a high place in my esteem. How can I say what then passed in my soul, when I found myself kneeling beside him for Communion and saw him so beautiful and holy, while I, so close to him, was so filthy and full of sin as not to deserve to be near him? This vision of his angelic holiness will be fresh all through my life, and will be a motive for me to imitate him—I beg God that I may do so. He who will sustain me, though so unworthy, in my needs, is Brother Francis.”

For some years back famine had been menacing the island. Good Bishop Bauza had invited the authorities to join in the Forty-hours’ prayer, in the spring of 1610 on account of the drought. In 1612 the Jesuit Fathers, who were preaching the Lent, constantly appealed to their hearers for alms in money and kind, in face of the terrible distress;⁹9V. Litt. Ann., 1608. Cf. MS. Ceremon. del Archivo de Mallorca, and MS. Hist. de Montesion. and the authorities determined on a public procession to obtain rain. In days of imperfect communication with the mainland, and in times when the only principle of commercial economics was the severest form of protection, a failure in the crops meant, as it means in some parts of the world even in our days, a terrible famine.

February was far spent, there had been as yet no rain; and harvests are early in Southern lands. Experts declared that even though there should be rain, it would be an evil year.¹⁰10Memor., Append. 2, iv. In fact the harvest failed so completely that 200,000 quarters of wheat were needed to supply the deficiency. And what made the blow felt all the more, was, that notwithstanding the Saint’s assertion, and the foresight of those best informed, the harvest had seemed quite safe as late as May. But when the corn was ripening it suddenly withered, and so nearly all of it was lost. The little that the labour of man had saved was almost entirely spoilt, and the bread made of it was so unwholesome that people who ate of it were attacked by various diseases. A great number of poor on the island lived like beasts on carob beans,¹¹11They still form the food of the inhabitants of some of the most destitute regions of Spain. In Majorca they are only given to horses and cattle. and boiled and ate with relish this rancid and unwholesome food. For a league round the towns and villages, hardly a blade of grass or anything eatable could be found, as hunger drove the starved populations to seek out even the poorest food. Some died of starvation, and numbers fell ill. The streets of Palma were crowded with famished poor. The Fathers of Montesion, to succour and assist them, besides giving of their own, begged from the richer citizens the means to aid them.

At the suggestion of the Father Rector, the Bishop ordered three days of fasting, on the 6th, 8th and 9th of February, as well as processions like those of the Rogation days; at the same time his lordship gave a magnificent example of charity. He sold all the plate in the Episcopal Palace, keeping nothing but his crozier; and in the following year, 1614,¹²12MS. Ceremon. del Archivo de Mallorca. on the feast of SS. Peter and Paul, he gave a dinner to 113 poor. The members of the congregation of gentlemen as well as of that of the clergy took part, to the great edification of all, in these penitential works, and the priests added to these an hour of prayer in common in the Church of Montesion. But all was in vain, and Father Gil accordingly summoned St. Alonso, and laid before him the terrible position in which the island lay, bidding him not to desist from prayer till God had sent them relief. As often as our Saint interceded for the people, he heard the same words, “Do not afflict yourself, Alonso. There will always be what is necessary, although there will be a full share of suffering.” And so it fell out.

The Chronicler of Montesion notes four very providential, if not miraculous, events which happened on this occasion. The first was that, from the September of this year, 1613, till the March of the following year, scarcely a week passed without one and sometimes two ships arriving at the island, laden with corn, from Spain or from other countries. They came, apparently, by chance. The result was that grain hardly rose at all in price. The second was that, as often as the authorities had determined to send vessels to Sicily or to France, they found there was no need, on account of the arrival of these merchant ships laden with supplies. The third was that, though the crops had this year failed, and though there came such a rainfall in October and November, and such extreme cold and snow during the four following months as had never been known on the island, which prolonged the misery and poverty far into the following year, yet there never was such a harvest seen as that of 1614. And, lastly, from October of this year till the following March, corn kept up nearly at the same price and that was not very high. The grateful people of the island attributed all this to the prayers of our Saint.

Brother Mora about this time was made porter, and on the first day of his appointment he said to St. Alonso: “They have given me this post, but I do not know whether it will be for long.” “The keys will not be taken away from you so very soon,” rejoined Rodriguez. And Mora was still in office in 1618, after the Saint’s death.

Another time he said to the holy Brother: “I feel no difficulty in religious life, neither in obeying, nor in anything else, whether in sickness or in temptation. What do you think will become of me? I am really sorry that everything goes so well with me.” The Saint replied: “Prepare yourself, for God will send you troubles.” And so it fell out; and when the Brother went to seek consolation from St. Alonso, he could see the old man was glad at what had happened, for he bade him to pray God for still greater troubles, and for the grace to bear them.”¹³13Summ., p. 65.

It is no wonder if Father Gil’s courage somewhat failed, in face of the long distress. As St. Alonso was walking one day, by the wish of his Superiors, in the azotea¹⁴14This azotea is now changed into dwelling-rooms; cf. p. 86. of the College, he saw while praying, a dense cloud coming up across the sea from the south-west. Beneath its dark canopy he could see legions of demons who were glorying over him, because, by the permission of God, they were allowed to lay waste the land, and especially the college vineyard. “You will not stop us now, you old wretch! Nor will your Mary be any use to you. We have leave to waste with hail the whole neighbourhood. There will not be left for you a blade of grass, and especially at your vineyard of Rafal.” Our Saint at once went into the tribune which was entered directly by a door from the azotea, and there he prayed Our Blessed Lord and His Holy Mother not to allow those enemies to do any of the damage they designed. The answer was, “The harm that will be done will not be great, but it will be greatest in the College property, because of the Rector’s little trust in Me, and of his too great confidence in his own knowledge and skill.¹⁵15Marimon, p. 982. This was evidently one of the storms of the close of 1613; cf. Colin, c. xxiv., who says distinctly that it happened a short time after the death of Villaragut (1610), and shortly before that of Mark Antony Puigdorfila (1615). I it is Who preserve the property and the houses of religious, the very Orders themselves, and make them increase and prosper, just as I see fit. And those often experience this who trust in themselves and so are deluded.” Alonso went at once and told all to Father Torrens, and, while he was telling him, a tempest of hail burst on the island with such fury that in a quarter of an hour the vines, which had never before given promise of so rich a vintage, seemed utterly destroyed, and it was thought that, such was the damage, it would be seven years before they would bear again. However, God gave, to the College lands, an abundant vintage in the following year.

Another faction fight, even during the famine, was raging this year in Petra, one of the large towns of Majorca. Some people were killed, a number badly wounded, others were imprisoned, many fled the country. Fathers Fons and Fiol hastened from Montesion to quench the flames, and they found the principal church occupied by the chiefs of the two parties. There was no doubt that, despite the sacredness of the place, the floor would soon have run with blood. One of the missioners came forward and spoke to the excited townsfolk, but to no avail. The hostile ranks glared at each other in silence, except when now and then a half-articulate word was heard, and many a hand played with deadly weapons. On a sudden, the preacher held out two skulls, and, as if they were those of the leaders of the two parties, he spoke in their name, deploring the wretched fate they would have to endure in expiating their crimes for ever in hell. He denounced in this fashion the outrage on the God of peace. When the preacher saw that the people were moved by his device, he drew forth a crucifix and appealed to the two heads of the factions and conjured them to heed the petition of their dying Saviour, and to forgive one another. On this the people began to weep; they threw down their arms and even embraced one another. Some cast themselves at the feet of the Father to make their confession, while others burst into the streets to find their former enemies, and to make a lasting peace with them. The following day all were admitted to Holy Communion, and before the Altar they declared their reconciliation.¹⁶16Hist. Soc. J., Pars. V., Tom. II., lib. xvi., § 5, p. 382. They were then taken to the Viceroy, in whose presence they countersigned their agreement and received his signature, and he granted an amnesty to all offenders. May we not be certain that the prayers of the aged invalid at Montesion had once more gained for the preacher’s words their wondrous power?

The fresh sufferings foretold to St. Alonso, and for which he so earnestly asked,¹⁷17Memor., n. 235. Jan., 1614. soon began to close in upon him, but Our Blessed Lord and His Holy Mother were ever at hand to console and support their faithful servant. After the reproof which he had received from the Brother infirmarian for using the Holy Name in a paroxysm of pain, our Saint had made a rule never to give a sign of anything he might have to suffer, and to bear it all in silence. One day, in the midst of his pains of mind and body, Our Blessed Lord suddenly appeared to him naked, all covered with bleeding wounds, and showing to the suffering invalid what he had deigned to suffer for him,¹⁸18Memor., n. 236. Jan., 1614; cf. Janin, lib. ii., c. 10, n. 88. and gently exhorted him to bear without a word or without a sign of complaint whatever he might have to endure. Alonso earnestly begged, through Our Lady, to have the grace to obey. But he was filled with sadness at the thought, lest, through his own fault, he should be deprived of those sufferings which he so desired, or lest God should have compassion on his cowardice.

In the midst of all these sufferings, and as the time for his reward drew near, St. Alonso seemed to live more in heaven than upon earth. Once, as he was reading a book upon humility, he fell asleep without noticing it. And whilst he was in a deep slumber, his heart was wounded with such a vehement love of God that it seemed to him that he was going to die of love.¹⁹19Memor., n. 206. June, 1613. So keen was his compassion for poor lost souls that he owned that no corporal austerities could equal the anguish that he felt at the sight of their hopeless ruin, and he could only compare his grief to the agony which Our Lord suffered in the garden.²⁰20Memor., n. 213.

The tempter profited by this passionate zeal of our Saint, to bring up again some of his old difficulties about God’s permission of evil. As our Saint tells us, because he was no theologian, he knew not what to reply, nor did he make any effort to do so; but just as before, he turned his back upon his enemy and threw himself into the arms of his God. The devil fled in confusion. “It is enough,” said our Saint, “that God is God, that all that He does is worthy of so good a God, Infinite Goodness itself. And if the devil still tries to twist what He says into a bad sense, my one answer is; ‘Then I will only serve my God more and more.’”²¹21Memor., n. 214.

Mary, as ever, was to him his surest refuge, and he always found her ready to assist him. One day when in great mental trouble he was reciting his Rosary, and, to the words, Mater Dei—Mother of God—he added with the most earnest cry, Memento mei—Be mindful of me! Straightway our Lady came to him, and such was the consolation which he received from her visit that all his sorrow was forgotten.

Side by side with his deep love of God, and springing from the same source—the supernatural knowledge of Him—a deep and holy fear found its place in the heart of our Saint. But it was a fear, as he says, which was peaceful, sweet, calm, and full of love.²²22Memor., n. 225. For, he declared, the reason why he feared God was because he knew and loved Him as so good a Father, and feared Him with the fear of a child. “How is it,” he exclaimed, “that I have not died of love and fear, since the more I fear Thee, the more I am inflamed and wounded with Thy love?”

It was a great trial to our Saint that, on account of his extreme old age and weakness, he was utterly unable to do any manual work, when his Superiors even made another lay-Brother wait upon him. Father Torrens noticed that, with all his submission to any order, the holy Brother was in trouble; for he looked as if he were ashamed of himself, and when the Father asked him what was the matter, “How could your Reverence,” said he, “expect me not to be ashamed, when one Brother sweeps my gallery, and another looks after my room, another brings up my food, and I do nothing, unless it be to eat?” Father Torrens told him that he had worked as long as he was able, and that now he must submit to the arrangements of his Superiors, as these were the will of God.

One evening in winter when he was recovering from an illness, but was not as yet able to leave his room, the infirmarian chanced to be sent out as companion to a Father on a mission of charity. It was to visit a criminal lying in prison under sentence of death. Before leaving the house the infirmarian reminded his Superior to send some one in his place to see to the wants of our Saint; however, the Brother who was sent did not understand that he had anything else to do but to take up supper to the sick man. The mattress of Alonso’s bed had been rolled back, as was the custom, when he had got up, nor did the Brother seem to know it was his duty to put it straight. Our Saint, on the other hand, had been positively forbidden to make his own bed, and did not consider that he was bound to ask his attendant to do so for him. When the bell rang for the Community to retire to rest, St. Alonso lay down on the bare boards of his bedstead, and leant his back and head against the upturned mattress.

At midnight the Brother infirmarian returned from the prison, and thought of going to see his patient, but he considered that it was better not to disturb him. When, however, he entered his room in the early morning, he found the poor old man curled up on his hard couch and frozen with cold. But there was not a trace of discontent on his face; on the contrary, when the infirmarian showed signs of annoyance at what had happened, he told him cheerfully, “I have spent this night to my heart’s content; glory be to God for it all! I shall soon now be well, thanks to the Lord!”²³23MS. Letter of Ramohí, Dec. 16, 1618, Montesion. Cf. Marimon, ii., 25.

One day, as Alonso in his prayer was meditating on how he could give himself as a holocaust to his Lord, and on the pleasure such a sacrifice would afford him, he was suddenly rapt with a swiftness beyond count through the courts of Heaven, where, ascending higher and higher, and after passing through a sort of darkness, he came out into a light more brilliant beyond compare than that of the sun, and, as in a former vision, every blessed spirit was made known to him in detail with a wonderful and complete knowledge, as though he had been acquainted with each from childhood.²⁴24Memor., Nov., 1616, p. 270. Cf. Marimon, lib. vii., § 19.

Another time, after a fierce struggle with the enemies of his salvation, he was again transported into heaven higher still than before; and, to quote his own words, he “saw, in a way he could never forget, the Divine Essence or Nature to a certain degree, which I cannot explain,” as he told Father Torrens, “except by a comparison. There was before the Divine Nature a double veil, which had to be withdrawn in order to behold It, and I saw It only imperfectly, as if but one veil had been raised; while for the blessed both are withdrawn, and they thus see It perfectly. And though I did not see It as they see It, no tongue can tell, no mind conceive what I beheld, and how great the joy at beholding It.”²⁵25Memor., p. 270. Nov. 16, 1616. Cf. Marimon, lib. vii., § 19.

In the January of 1614, St. Alonso received a still more surprising favour—he spent several days in heaven in a rapture, and was placed by Our Blessed Lord Himself between Him and His Spotless Mother. By this mysterious privilege our Saint was fired with yet stronger desires of enduring more and more, so as to gain still greater crowns, and he prized more than ever, as gifts of highest value, every opportunity of suffering which God gave to him.

“I believe,” he said, “that contradictions come to us from the hand of God, and are a great treasure for the soul, if only it embraces them for the love of God. For when all goes well, that state is not worth much, because man seeks himself; but, when things go against us, man seeks God; provided always he conquers himself under such circumstances for God.” p. 192St. Alonso’s rule was always to forget himself, so as to give all his mind to pleasing God.

In fact his mind was now united closer than ever with God, so that he had to overcome himself at table, and force himself to eat, out of a motive of duty. Still in spite of himself his heart went back to God and His Blessed Mother. “Oh! Lady, who has seen thee in heaven?” he exclaimed one day at table. “Soon thou shalt see me,” was her reply.

Father Andrew Moragues²⁶26Elench. Summ., p. 107. Father Andrew was in Montesion from 1602, the date of his return from his studies in Spain, till after the Saint’s death. narrates that about this time the Viceroy’s wife came one day to call upon St. Alonso. When the Sacristan went to tell him, he found the holy Brother at his prayers in the tribune. The Church doors were closed at the time and the Saint refused absolutely to go down to see her Excellency, as it was against the customs of the house to go into the Church when closed, just as much as to go outside the house, without permission; so that, let heaven come to earth, as he declared, he would not do it.²⁷27There were three Vicequeens in succession during that period. Probably the one referred to was Doña Liederkercke, the wife of Don Charles Coloma, 1611–1617.

Father John de Avila, a native of Palma, who had entered the Society in 1586, was in the College merely as a guest, but in this year, 1614, was made Minister, heard confessions in the Church, and even found time to write. He was in good health and was fasting very rigorously during Lent. One morning the Brother who called the Community had brought a light into his room as usual, and had gone out again, without noticing anything. But when, later on, a number of the Brothers went in succession to the Father Minister on business, and they saw the light burning in his room, and could get no answer, they supposed he was about the house, and had left his lamp alight for his studies. At last the sacristan came to give him notice to say Mass, and he too having knocked without any reply, and then sought the whole house over for him in vain, at length came back and opened the door, when to his horror he found the Father lying in bed speechless and senseless.

At once the sacristan informed the Rector, and he in turn sent for the medical men. Four doctors arrived, and after the Father had been anointed, all the savage means which the medical art then employed in cases of apoplexy were tried, but in vain. Two or three times the sick man was thought to have passed away. He had been to Confession and had said Holy Mass the day before, and his holy life gave promise of a holy death; still his religious Brethren were anxious that he might receive all the last rites before his departure. For forty-three hours Father de Avila lay insensible, and Masses and prayers were offered up. St. Alonso turned with his usual fervour to our Lady; and he got the assurance, in answer to his supplications, that the Father would not die of that attack, though he would not long survive it.

The Community were around his bed, and Father Gil had been saying the Recommendation for a Departing Soul and reciting various ejaculations, when the Rector bade our Saint draw near to the sick man and say some prayers for him. The Brother accordingly came to the bedside, made the sign of the Cross over Father de Avila, and said the “Gloria Patri,” and a few other prayers. From that moment the sick man, slowly but steadily, began to recover, until he came entirely to himself. It was, however, a full week before he could approach Holy Communion, as the violent remedies employed had brought on a sharp feverish attack. But he got perfectly well and strong again.

On the 31st of August, the same year, 1614, Father Avila sailed for Spain with Father Gil. In the Lent of 1615, a little more than a year after his first attack, he had a second seizure in the College of Barcelona, which carried him off.

As Brother Rodriguez grew old, his Superiors naturally wished that he should have all the care his infirmities demanded. But nothing pained our Saint so much as when any special dish was prepared for him, and he told Brother Escales,²⁸28Brother Escales came to Montesion as a lay-Brother Postulant on January 4, 1611, where, after his first Probation, and making the Exercises, he was received on the 14th of January, as a Novice. St. Alonso was present in the Chapel of the Sacristy when, on March 25, 1613, he took his first vows. Hist., MS., Montesion. again and again in recreation, and in very plain language too, that he would rather feed on the vilest filth, than have any extra delicacies. Nor was this any empty speech.

St. Alonso had been for many years back ordered to take two boiled eggs at supper. “A Father,” it is Father Marimon who tells the story, “was serving at first table,²⁹29The first of the suppers. As, in a Community, all cannot dine together, each meal is in double. St. Alonso says in his Memor., n. 131, June 1609, that very stale eggs were almost always brought for him, “que le hedian casi siempre.” and as he saw on the kitchen table a plate with two eggs, put at one side, he jumped at the conclusion that they had been made ready for Brother Alonso, and had been boiled as on other nights. So, without saying a word to the cook, he took the eggs to the Refectory and gave them to the sick Brother. However, it happened that they were neither cooked, nor fresh. The holy Brother caught at once at so good an opportunity of mortification, and he had already eaten one, and was just taking up the other to do the same, when the cook, who had found that the eggs had been taken in uncooked, and was certain that Alonso would eat them in that state, rushed into the Refectory to carry them away. One was already finished. But he snatched the other out of the saintly Brother’s hand.”

Greater beyond comparison was another act of mortification, and the victory over himself which it involved. Alonso was somewhat more poorly than usual, and a Brother, who was serving, wished to give him a special treat; and he certainly managed to do just what the invalid desired. So anxious was the server to secure a couple of eggs of the very freshest, that, to make certain of this, he went himself to the court of the Refectory, where the hens were kept, and took two eggs out of the nests nearest at hand. Without further ado he put them into the saucepan, and when he thought that they were sufficiently cooked, he carried them off to the Refectory, just as if he were bringing in something very dainty—whereas the event showed that, with the best of intentions, he had taken two nest-eggs, which had been there for any length of time. The first egg, which the Saint broke, proved to be not only bad, “but the white was as nauseous as the yolk, and it stank like a dead dog.” Brother Alonso swallowed it, however, with great delight, and at once began to attack the other, for fear lest anyone should rob him of this occasion of self-conquest. But his haste was all in vain, for the stench of the first egg filled the Refectory, and a Father who was next to him, took the second almost by force from his trembling hands, to the great grief of Brother Alonso.³⁰30Cf. Marimon, n. 129, June, 1609. Father Moragues and Brother Michael Serra both deposed to these facts in the Processes.