Saint Eusebia and her companions

It was in the midst of this beautiful nature, in these solitary places where everything once led to contemplation, t hat Saint Cas saint Cassien Founder of the monastery for nuns on the banks of the Huveaune. sian founded a monastery for women. He did even better than giving a rule to the nuns he established on the banks of the Huveaune; he gave them the spirit that animated him, and he united them spiritually with the religious he had founded at the tomb of Saint Victor. It was to this hearth of love for God, of piety, of zeal, and of detachment from the world that the servants of Christ came to be revived, and thereby they maintained among themselves charity, unity, and the traditions of the past. Thus, in those remote centuries, the monastery of the Cassianite nuns shone with the brightest luster; it was cited as a model of regularity, and they were in all things the worthy spouses of Him to whom they had vowed their virginity. Their fervor was so renowned that they attracted the attention of a great pope, a learned apprec iator of merit, Saint G saint Grégoire le Grand Pope and author of the Dialogues, primary narrator of the life of Servulus. regory the Great. He wrote a touching letter to their abbess, in which one sees shining all at once the condescension of a father, the gentleness of the pontiff, and the piety of the Christian.

Now, at the end of the 6th century, there lived in Marseille a young gir l by th Eusébie Granddaughter and successor of Gertrude at Hamage. e name of Eusebia, which is to say, pious. At the age of fourteen, she renounced the world and entered the Cassianites. The radiance of her virtue, and also the spirit of God, moved her companions to place her at their head; she became by election their superior, their abbess, and she was greeted with the sweet name of mother. This name was rightfully hers, for she was truly their mother; she brought them forth for heaven, amidst tears and sorrows, on that beautiful day that the Church calls the birth of the martyrs: Natalis.

When she was charged with the government of her monastery, the times were very difficult. The Christian name had lost its luster. Our princes displayed neither talent, nor vigor, nor courage, and allowed themselves, almost without a fight, to have their crowns torn away and their peoples taken. A cruel and powerful nation had thrown itself upon Europe; it pillaged, sacked, slaughtered, and carried fire and sword throughout the South. Nothing could resist its fury. The cross paled before the crescent. Spain already belonged to the Saracens, and they coveted our France. They crossed the Pyrenees, spread like a torrent through our provinces, seized our fortified cities, and even came to camp at the gates of Provence. The ravages they wrought and the cruelties they committed are beyond all expression. Monasteries were pillaged, devastated, burned, and the peaceful hosts they sheltered were massacred without pity. Churches were razed, and priests, pursued relentlessly, no longer knew where to shelter their heads. Every day some new disaster was learned, and one lived only in trouble, fear, and tears.

The companions of Saint Eusebia could not hear this sad news without being moved. Fear and dread chilled their souls. Timid doves, exposed without defense to the cruel talons of the ravishers, they feared at every moment to see the enemy throw themselves upon them and tear them from their asylum. But Eusebia, no doubt with her gentle words, revived them, consoled them, made the hope of eternal goods shine before their eyes, and peace descended into their souls. Suddenly, terrible news breaks out: Lérins has become the prey of the Saracens. The blood of the martyrs has flooded the earth, the sword has spared nothing. It se Lérins Monastery where Ausile was a monk. ems to us then that we see Eusebia, losing all hope of saving her life and thinking only of heaven, gathering her trembling companions around her, preparing them to give their lives for the one they cherished.

However, all hope was not lost. Marseille , an imme Marseille Birthplace of the saint. nse and well-defended city, surrounded by strong walls and possessing trained troops, could have offered long resistance, even inspiring fear in the Saracens and forbidding their approach. But soon this hope vanished. The governor of Provence, Mauront, a soul prone to jeal ousy, h Mauront Governor of Provence who betrayed Marseille to the Saracens. atred, vengeance, and all dark passions, did not fear to betray his homeland and deliver it to its enemies. He called upon the Saracens; he opened the gates of Marseille to them. A horrible carnage began in this unfortunate city. Everywhere the sad image of war, everywhere blood and corpses; houses were pillaged, and all that was of wealth became the prey of the victor. A horrible tumult arose; the moans of the dying, the cries of the wounded, and the blasphemies of the enemies of Christ struck the air. Flames were set in a thousand places, and soon a vast conflagration ignited; people fled in haste, escaping so many miseries, reaching the mountains; the roads were filled with fugitives, pursued by fierce soldiers. Saint Eusebia and her companions could not see the desolation of their homeland without trembling, and they understood from this the sad fate that awaited them. No one thought of them in the midst of their solitude; no one flew to their defense. How could they avoid the enemies of their faith? Where to flee? Where to hide? Should they throw themselves onto the roads and seek a new homeland, a new asylum in some distant land; but did they not know that the assassins were everywhere, and that their murderous arrows would be able to reach them anywhere? Should they go and hide in the mountains? But they would soon perish there from cold, hunger, and misery; and what use would it be to delay their martyrdom? Should they implore the help of their fellow citizens and brothers, and go to swell the ranks of the fugitives? But would that not be exposing their virtue and failing in the fidelity they had sworn to their divine Spouse? They remained, they waited, and they often cast anxious glances over the vast plain, to see if the banners of the Moors could be seen fluttering in the distance.

One day, they discovered a frenzied soldiery rushing in tumult toward the monastery. The supreme day had arrived. Eusebia gather Eusébie Granddaughter and successor of Gertrude at Hamage. ed her companions around her, led them to the foot of the holy altars, and pouring out both their hearts and their tears together in the presence of their God, they begged Him to inspire them with the strength and courage to make the final sacrifice, if necessary. Suddenly, the God who had once inspired Eleazar the Maccabean, and had communicated to him the strength to brave and even seek out perils; He who had once in Alexandria urged a famous virgin, Apollonia, to a heroic act, took possession of Eusebia's spirit. Thinking of the youth and beauty of most of her companions, she feared that the sword might spare them, that the enemy, sadly human, might carry them off on their ships, and that they might go to become the ornament and joy of some barbarian chieftain. She rose in their midst, inspired them with her fears, reminded them of the solemn promise that bound them to Christ, spoke to them with horror of the savage hordes already rushing upon their asylum, and retraced for them the servitude in which they would groan, the evils of which they would be the victims, the insults with which they would be overwhelmed, and the eternal shame that would attach to their names if the infidel dragged them in his wake. When she saw that they were filled with the fire that animated her, that sobs were breaking out around her, tears were flowing, and murmurs of approval were greeting each of her words: "Courage, O my companions, O virgins, courage, a few more hours of combat and victory is ours. Death is better than dishonor; torments, sufferings, martyrdom, I prefer them to shame; therefore, I pray to your God and mine to watch over our souls, and I beg Him to snatch our lives from us. I ask Him for a glorious death for us all. In the sad state to which we are reduced, we must fear life as the greatest of all our misfortunes; I hope that the sacred Spouse will not leave us in the moment of tribulation, that He will fly to our aid when we have no more resources, and that the proud enemies of His name are triumphing and insulting Him. Christ sustains you, Christ revives you, Christ speaks to you through my mouth, listen to His voice. Sacrifice this perishable beauty that can ruin your souls, immolate your charms, tear from your faces these deceptive graces, so that the enemy, in violating our asylum, instead of finding the beauties he seeks, can discover nothing but objects of horror; and thus you will be delivered, and you will escape your ruin. Imitate me, follow the traces that I show you, so that soon we may all pass together into a better life, where we will celebrate our God, where we will sing His praises eternally." A divine air was spread over her features. She immediately took a sharp instrument, brought it to her face, and forcefully mutilated both her nose and her lips. Blood flowed in abundance over her face and reddened her garments. At the sight of her courage, a general cry of pity rose around her, and a vivid ardor penetrated every soul. Her companions hastened to imitate her. Already all had passed the sharp iron over their faces, and all these bloodied virgins, shedding their blood, the first fruits of their martyrdom, but not shedding a single tear, waited calmly for their murderers. They were no longer for the earth anything but objects of disgust and horror, but in the eyes of the Spouse and the holy angels, what touching beauties they took on, with what graces they shone!

Already t he Moo Maures Muslim invaders responsible for the massacre of the nuns. rs are at the gates of the monastery; their cries of rage, their impious songs, the sound of weapons, the blast of the trumpet, strike the ears of the spouses of Christ, who tremble with both joy and terror. They congratulate themselves in advance on their booty; each one already chooses a bride in his mind. They enter the monastery, on their faces and in their eyes shines a ferocious joy, they arrive at the place where Eusebia and her companions were. They recoil in horror, they shudder at the sad spectacle that strikes their eyes. Seeing themselves thus disappointed in their hopes, they open their souls to vengeance, to fury, to rage. They draw their swords, they immolate without pity around the holy altars these tender virgins who had taken refuge there as in their last asylum. They uttered no complaint, no murmur was heard, and, to the number of forty, they happily underwent the death that put an end to their anxieties, and began their eternal glory.

[APPENDIX: CULT AND RELICS.]

Two years after the martyrdom of Eusebia, all the combined power of the Moors expired in the plains of Tours. Charles Martel fought Charles-Martel Mayor of the palace, possible ancestor of the saint. them, struck them down, cut them to pieces, and annihilated the empire of the Moors in France forever. The French soil was soon purified of their remnants. When peace had been restored to the Christians, they hastened to collect the bones of Eusebia and her companions. A magnificent tomb received these precious relics. They were venerated by all Christians in the underground of Saint-Victor, near the mai Saint-Victor Monastic order that held the church of Saint-Tropez from 1056. n altar.

On the tomb was placed a stone, which bore a touching inscription, marked by the simplicity of those centuries of faith. Here it is in its entirety, with the translation:

Hic requiescit in pace Eusebia religiosa Magna ancilla Domini Qui in exculo ab hinc ante sexate vixit Sexaginta annos et ubi à Domino Electa est in monasterio S. C. S. Cyriaci S ervivit annos qu S. C. S. Cyriaci Saint associated with the name of the monastery in the funerary inscription. inquaginta recessit sub Die Kalend. Octobris, indictione sextâ.

Here rests in peace Eusebia, religious, Great servant of the Lord, Who lived from her birth Sixty years in the world, and was chosen there by God For the monastery of Saint-Cussien and Saint-Cyricus. She served God there for fifty years, she died The eve of the Kalends of October, sixth indiction.

At the bottom of the inscription is engraved a touching symbol, which is frequently encountered in the catacombs. It is a chalice from which two doves come to drink. It was intended to represent this mysterious wine that begets virgins, or rather to designate the eternal rest, the peace, the happiness, which Eusebia and her companions acquired after having drunk from the cup of bitterness and suffering. It is the only monument that reminds generations of the devotion of Eusebia. Formerly, when there still existed some remnants of the past, in a community that belonged to the religious Order of Eusebia, each time a young novice received the mysterious veil, emblem of innocence, she was solemnly reminded of the heroism of Eusebia and her companions, and she was asked if she would dare to display the same courage.

Now nothing reminds the people of Marseille of these precious memories anymore. The ashes of Eusebia and her companions have been scattered to the wind, her tomb has been torn from the places it occupied. The tombstone itself was not respected; it adorns the museum of Marseille today.

This notice, due to Abbé J.-B. Magnan, is extracted from the Conseiller catholique, of Marseille.