The Captive
A Story About Fátima the Princess
This narrative is based on a medieval ballad and the historical account
in which it was found.1 It also drew from other sources & from imagination
applied to details and the skeletal form that accounts provided. It tells of
the love story behind the name of the famed apparition site in Portugal.
It was midsummer. Darkness was gathering as night was coming on. In the west the sun was setting, and clouds were shaded in pink and purple. Gnarled cork, stone pine and other trees that lined the bank of the Sado, reflected themselves darkly in the river. A group of boats was steadily moving upstream. The men in them were dipping their oars in the water, with soft swishes and splashes, pulling against the current flowing by. They looked like a party of Arabs, clothed with loose garments and headdresses, but in reality the clothing concealed a party of Portuguese soldiers, led by the knight Don Gonzalo Herminguez.
The setting of the drama was southern Portugal in the late Twelfth Century during the time of the Reconquista. The small flotilla passing up the river wasn’t given much notice by the people seeing them from land. They thought they must be going to Alcacer do Sal for the Feast of Bairam. They were headed that way, but not to celebrate. It was actually a mission that Gonzalo had determined upon, in reprisal for the capture of his country people. They were in enemy territory held by the Moors.
They moved
silently and spoke quietly. Upriver lay their objective, and behind them,
the river was flowing toward the marshes, dense reed beds, and open water of
an estuary that opened to the ocean, the waters of the Atlantic. The valley
of this river and the estuary offered shelter to many species of birds
including waterfowl, harriers and wading birds. They observed some
birds winging about and dipping above the surface of the river.
They prayed quietly in Portuguese...Avé Maria,
cheia de graça, o Senhor é convos...They saw a movement by the farther
shore and a purple heron flew up at their approach...Bendita sois vós
entre as mulheres,...nearby, the ripple of a duck, swimming to its nest
among the reeds... Bendito é o fruto do vosso ventre, Jesus...They
could hear voices now in the distance and a bit of music...Then ahead in the
distance, the orange of a lighted fire shone through the trees and the dusk.
Tenser moments now, as their eyes searched the riverside ahead, looking for
the place to put in, out of sight.
Farther upstream the river would bend to their
right in a crooked, curving course, resembling the shape of the heron's neck
and head. They would put in to the bank before they reached this part
of the flow. Nearing the town, they pulled to shore, as close as possible
without discovery. They drew their boats partially up on the bank,
aiming their bows outward, ready to slip into the river and race downstream.
The boats were somewhat hidden by rushes and reeds. Part of their
party waited by the vessels to guard them, while the rest moved stealthily
closer to the town, concealing themselves in tall grass, brush and bushes.
The Capture at Alcacer do Sal
From their concealment they had a view of the town and what was going on before them. Up on the hill, in the distance, stood a castle with its towers and crenulated walls, the battlements of the fortress―the town's name deriving partly from the Moorish term Al Qaşr, meaning "the castle." The minarets of a mosque thrust above the horizon into the twilight sky.3 Below the fortification and the mosque, they saw torches being lit in the dusk, their lights scattered amid the habitations on the cobbled streets. Nearer them, several bonfires illumined the scene of the festivities. Bats were flitting about in the air, and birds of the early evening were flying around, to catch mosquitoes, bothersome to the soldiers as well as the townspeople.
The gates of the town were open, and near them, the Mahometans were celebrating with the female members of their families. They were occupied in sporting activity and dancing on the grass. One of them caught Gonzalo's eye. She was beautiful, a Moorish maiden filled with graceful merriment, light and free of movement. He noticed her smile, and his fancy warmed to her charm. As he watched from their hiding place, he whispered to a companion that he would capture her . They surveyed the scene with a military eye, to see where the men were located and from whence any combat might come.
At a certain moment Gonzalo gave a signal, and the Christians rushed forth from their hiding place. The Moors were surprised when they saw them fast approaching and men sprang to fight their foe. The cry went up, “Christians! Infidels! Get them!” Gonzalo went directly to the particular young lady he’d chosen, clasped her gently by the arm, saying, as he did so, “Come with me, I won't harm thee.” It was all happening so fast. At first she was a bit unsure what to do, but she didn’t struggle to get away.
Gonzalo started riverward with her but the Moors seized her back. He had to fight off the Moors coming at him. Again and again he'd regain her, and again and again they'd seize her back. The Moors fought stubbornly, but he was also stubborn in his effort to capture the girl. He was very skilled at using the sword and was known as Traga Mouros, the Moor Eater.
4 He parried with the flat and thrust with the edge, taking a wound and giving one. The swords spoke the language of discord in swishes, clacks, clashes and pings! During the fray, he heard the Moors say, “The infidel is trying to take the Princesa, the Amiri...Stop him! Stop him!” Although she ranked high in his estimation of beauty, it was the first he knew of her rank among the Moors.Her name was Fátima, and she felt flattered that he fought so hard to obtain her. She herself had noticed him from when he first appeared, admired his person and his valor. And it seemed she placed herself in the way of being recaptured.
5 Gonzalo fought desperately to have her and became the center of the fighting, having to fend off the foe, thrusting and swinging their swords and scimitars! Voices cried out, “Cuidado! Atenção! Don’t hurt the Princesa! As he endeavored to keep them away, they drew blood, and he was getting cut. Some of his companions rushed to his aid and helped drive back the Moors. He was able to clasp her back, and started heading toward the river with her. They fought a continual rear guard action, as they withdrew to their boats already partially loaded and ready to shove off. Far up
on the castle wall a gong sounded. There was now a general alarm as
other Moors came out of the gates with weapons drawn and carrying torches to
illumine the darkness. Their blades gleamed from their flaming sticks.
Gonzalo said to Fátima, “I won’t hurt thee. Just step into the boat and thou shalt be fine.” When the Christians and the captives were loaded, they shoved off downstream into the river. The last of the rear guard splashed into the water and climbed aboard.
They paddled furiously downstream. Back on the shore a group had gathered at the bank and their torch lights lit the river's edge, like fire in the water. The Moors found some of the loose garments the Christians had worn and dumped to make room for the captives. Even though Gonzalo's group was moving away down the river, they still heard the Moors talking about the garments in the growing distance and someone calling for boats to chase the infidels. “Follow them! They've taken the Princess!” Nearer, they heard the pounding of horse hooves as the Moors galloped on a road near the shore, to chase them down.
Gonzalo glanced at Fátima, as he vigorously pulled the paddle through the water to propel the boat faster forward, with his sword near at hand. Even in the gloom and haste, he could discern her loveliness. She herself was a little apprehensive, a little excited, and even, a little glad. She instinctively had a sense about him, a degree of trust in his chivalrousness. Different worlds and mindsets separated them, yet here they were together in the same boat.
A party of
the foe who'd raced ahead, had come down to the bank. Several jumped in
water in an attempt to stop the boats to regain the captives. But the
squadron of boats swept past these Moors, sloshing in the water.
Farther on, Gonzalo quickly set his oar aside and tore
strips from a garment left on the boat. He hastily tied them around
the worst wounds to stanch the flow of blood. The cloth was dusty but
it stopped some of the bleeding. Then, he resumed rowing. From
Alcacer do Sal, the Sado River curved northward in an elongated, backward
"S," then would go westward to empty into the estuary. Where it's
curving to go in a westerly direction, it may be around seven kilometers or
so from the Alcacer do Sal.
They wouldn't enter
the estuary but would head out overland from the river. Ahead they had
horses waiting, to mount and be off in the night. They watched for the place
where they would put ashore. They voiced a signal of their approach in the
dark. No answer. They signaled once again, and this time they saw a torch,
waving in prescribed pattern. It was the signal of where they would end
their journey on the river. They no longer saw anyone following them, but
had to figure that they might be behind.
They put into
shore, disembarked, concealed the boats and tried to smooth the the bank
with a pine branch so any pursuers wouldn't notice where they'd landed from
their exploit. They grabbed up the few loose garments left, that had
hidden their identity, to take along with them. The girls were put in
pairs upon extra horses and loosely bound to prevent an attempt to escape,
all except Fátima; she would ride one alongside Gonzalo. Gonzalo told her,
“If thou wilt give me thy word of honor, I won’t tie thee.” She
complied.
He helped
Fátima
upon the horse tethered to his own, and they took off, heading in the
direction of Santarem, taking the captives there to the king. They
rode through the dark, through the trees, up hills and down valleys, careful
to try to avoid any rocks in their path. Santarem was about 70 miles
from Alcacer do Sal, as the falcon flies, but it was longer the way they
were going. After traveling for some time, when they deemed they were in
safe territory, they stopped to rest and built a campfire for warmth, and
hoped the smoke would ward off the summer insects. Stars were out, sprinkled
in the sky above, and the moon was just rising above the trees in the east.
It dimly lit the landscape, especially diminishing the darkness in the open
spaces amid the trees.
He admonished his men to treat the women with respect and with knightly gentility. In kindling the fire, Gonzalo got a better look at his Muslim captive―his first good and unhurried look close up. Being a princess of privilege, she undoubtedly was educated. She seemed intelligent and amiable. Her dark brownish-green eyes with long lashes, were set in a well-shaped face with a fine-featured nose, slightly convex in profile. Over a delicate chin, a cupid's bow formed the upper lip above the fuller one below. Her skin was tan and her hair, darkish brown. It fell in wavy tresses to the sides and over the shoulders of her slender form, chastely clothed.
. He heard her when
she looked up at a large patch of sky through the trees; seeing the stars,
she commented, "Al noojoom jamila." They used a mixture of
languages then. He knew enough Arabic, to know she was saying the
stars are beautiful. In the quiet of his mind, he mused about
the Arabic word jamila..."That describes her...that's what she is,
jamila," as he broke another stick to keep kindling the flames.
Something Kindled
She kindled something in him, something warm and
emotional. He cracked a piece of resinous pine, threw it on the
fire, and the flames fed upon it. By the firelight, he wiped
some blood from the wounds in his arms and right hand. Seeing her
captor tending himself, she made a sign of help him. She saw blood was still
oozing from the deeper wounds. She asked for a little salt to mix with
water, and cleansed his wounds. The wrappings he had were blood-soaked
and not the cleanest. She, then, tore part of a sleeve from her
blouse, and ripped strips to wrap his wounds. He looked at her as she did
so, dimly realizing she was wrapping herself around his heart.
Fátima
told Gonzalo that if they found some honey, it would be good for dressing
the wounds.
"How is it that thou knowest this"? he
asked her.
"It is in our holy Koran,"
Gonzalo issued the order to seek out some honey at first light.
His men cut and lay pine branches on the ground. They gave the captives the garments left from their exploit, to spread out over the branches to lie upon, and with which to cover themselves. He offered Fátima his own cloak to cover with, and watched for a while from a short distance away and slept for a while during what was left of the night. Fátima couldn't help but notice the way they were treated.
The chirp of birds and growing light awakened Gonzalo. As dawn was breaking in the east, it painted the clouds a shade of pink above the notched tree line. The clouds were outstretched like pieces of torn cloth, a little similar to the cloths that she wrapped around his wounds, but his were stained with red. One might liken the view of the horizon and sky above, to pink pennants flying above a crenulated castle wall, and climbing to the ramparts behind, was the approach of the sun, casting its shafts. In the early light, some hares were seen hopping about, were shot, skinned and roasted over the coals of the fire. Those who weren't awake, were roused from their sleep to prepare for the journey. They shared the roasted meat amongst themselves, as well as some fresh fruit they'd gathered from trees. They also ate some raisins, and other dried food the soldiers had brought along for sustenance.
One of his
men found a honeycomb in the hollow of a cork tree and brought it to
Gonzalo, who handed it to Fátima.
She gently rubbed the amber fluid on the surface of his wounds and rebound
them with fresh tearings from her sleeve.
"There, that should help the skin to heal,"
she said.
Then she went to see about tending the
wounds of some of his companions.
Santarem lay north and a little west of Alcacer do Sal,
and was located on the the Tagus River, called Tejo in Portuguese.
At midday they stopped to rest in a grove. Gonzalo and some of his men found
some olives and figs to pick from the trees and berries to pluck from
brambles, which they brought in their cloaks for all to eat.
They also brought water from a spring that emerged from a hillside and trickled down
the slope. They watered their horses in a nearby stream, a
tributary of the Tejo. Gonzalo ordered that the young women captives,
be allowed privacy to bathe in the stream, at a spot screened with trees and
bushes.
Fatima found
some peppermint and garlic plants near the stream. She knew these had
medicinal qualities, garlic for infection and cooling peppermint as a skin
anesthetic and an antibacterial. She pulled them and brought them to Gonzalo
for tending his and the wounds of others. She looked at his wounds and
cleaned them again with salt water. She crushed the garlic and mashed
peppermint leaves to apply to his wounds, along with some more honey from
the comb, and this time, he gave her some pieces of cloth to rebind his
deepest cuts. The other captives noticed the particular attention she was
giving him and discretely teased her a bit: "A little honey for the hurt,
and little sweetness for the soldier." She was slightly
embarrassed.
They spoke a while and Fátima told Gonzalo
that she appreciated the way he treated them as women. “Is this
the Christian way,” she asked. “It is, or ought be, but sadly
sometimes men do not always conduct themselves as Christians. But that
be the fault of the man, not of the faith." Fatima knew from her
study of the Koran and other Islamic texts that women are treated as being
lesser than men and wives could be beaten.
Flowers and Buds
Before they remounted their horses,
Gonzalo picked her a little bouquet of flowers he found growing there in the
wild, saying these were in thanks for tending his wounds. She smiled a
bit bashfully, and received the flowers appreciatively, but her perception
was, that the flowers were something more than gratitude. His
actions were revealing his feelings as they continued on.
Flowers decorated the countryside they were passing through, and something
was budding in their hearts.
They came to a town where
Gonzalo purchased a nice cloth to throw over her blouse with the torn
sleeves. She knotted it to hold it in place. She was glad
for the modest covering it offered. The men fed the captives well.
Fátima
found herself looking frequently at Gonzalo, and he in turn, at her.
Her companion captives noticed it too, and teased her when the opportunity
arose.
She missed her home but felt a growing affection for this knight, and she could tell her affection was not unrequited: she was not treading this path alone: for along it, the buds seemed to be unfolding their petals into blossoms. In the silence of her mind she thought, “Could I be falling for this infidel…an infidel that my people have talked about? This believer in several Gods. What would Allah do to this man who's endearing to my heart? Alas, what should I do as a good follower of Muhammad ibn Abdullah? It was a mixture of the pleasant and unpleasant, like eating an orange, tasting both the juice-filled sections and the peel.
The next night they stopped to rest at a town. Soon they would be at Santarem and see King Alfonso Henriquez. Fátima was curious to see him. She'd heard of him as El Bortukali, as he was called by the Moors. Now she would look upon the one her kinfolk had spoken about. They crossed the Tejo, and followed along the bank or near to it. The river was flowing downstream toward them. Eventually they mounted a plateau to the settlement of Santarem, which lay 65 kilometers northeast of Lisbon. The most famous legend related to it, tells of a Visigothic saint named Iria (Irene), presumed martyred elsewhere in Portugal at Tomar. Her incorrupt body was brought to this place, then called Scalabis, and later in her honor, it became Sancta Irene, from which Santarem was derived.
The captives were taken to King Alfonso Henriquez and
Fátima
surveyed his likeness, noting his beard, his slender nose, and his long
face. The king was kindly and assured them, that they would not be
harmed, and gave them lodging with a guard.
King's Permission Sought
Out of their presence, Gonzalo spoke
privately to the king about
Fátima.
“Sire,” Gonzalo said, “There’s one amongst them
named Fatima. I’ve found this maiden beautiful to look upon, and hath beauty
inside as well. She’s special. She’s the kind of woman I should
like to wed.” He paused a moment, and then beseeched the king, saying,
“Sire, Wouldst thou grant permission that it be so.”
“Ah, my dear, Gonzalo, son of my great warrior,
Hermingo,” the king responded, “I've noticed how thou hast looked at
her...and she is that, a beautiful woman. But thou doth realize, of
course, the differences in religion between us. These Mahometans believe
that we Christians art infidels. They believeth not that Jesus is the Son of
God, nor in our Trinity...
The king paused, then said, "Gonzalo, thou art like a son to me...Thy faith is important, and that cometh between the two of thee: thine founded by Jesus both God and man, and hers by Mahomet, just a man...It's something thou canst not fully share together...And if thou hast children, how can she teacheth, what she believeth not? In living and pleasing her, one a different mind, wilt thou weaken in thy faith?
"Sire," Gonzalo replied, "I wouldst stay strong..."
"Thou art strong and brave as well," the king replied, "But, alas, even a castle wall can be weakened...Even armor can be bent."
Gonzalo was reflecting on what the king said, as the King read a sense of struggle within him: the dictates of the heart against the dictates of reason.
King Alfonso continued, "Thou so callest so to mind thy father Hermigo. At the Battle of Ourique, thy father overthrew so many Moors, that he was called the wrestler, O Luctador 8 ...Mostly because he was so agile, so nimble, so quick of motion...”
The king stroked his beard in a thoughtful gesture, saying, “Thou hast thy father's prowess, but in this, be not too quick. A wife shouldst be one to help saveth thy soul, not to hinder thee on thy path to heaven...”
But the king didn't want to crush him. “This is what I‘ll tell thee, Gonzalo,” he said, raising two fingers: “Two things...if she herself consents to marriage, and if she becometh a Christian as thou art, then I‘ll consent to it. And more than this, I’ll attend thy wedding. I suspect the first, will be the easier part, but the second,” he shook his head a little, “that'll be more difficult. See what thou canst do, whether thou mayest convince her. Thou hast my blessing for that. I shall pray for thee.”
Gonzalo was brightened with hope. “Thank you, Sire, I shall most certainly try.”
The Quest for Her Hand
And he certainly did. He went to where the prisoners were lodged and fed, and asked to see Fatima. She was released into his custody. They took a walk to a scenic spot, overlooking the valley of the Tejo River, and sat in the shade of a tree. The coolness beneath the limbs was welcome.
Gonzalo started, “I think thou seest in my heart what I feel about thee. I spoke to the king to seek his permission...to, ah...to take thee for wife.”
Fátima’s face lit up and she smiled sweetly. Her face and eyes were so expressive. She listened to hear what the monarch had to say.
Encouraged by her response, Gonzalo continued, “But the king hath a couple concerns: one being that thou needst consent to it...” Her face was radiant as she waited. “...and the other, that thou shouldst become a Christian.” At that, a worried look crossed her face.
“But Gonzalo,” she replied, “I’m what thou calleth a Mahometan, and I’ve known no other faith. It’s hard for me to do that. I’m told thy Christian beliefs are not in One God, but in others as well.” She looked up the river, engrossed in thought, and then went on, “The Koran even says they can slay me if I do this…if I were to convert.”
"Rest
assured that we believe in just One God, the rest is just misunderstanding,”
he said.
Gonzalo put his arm around her shoulder and
drew her to him, in a protective embrace. “I'll not let any harm come to
thee, Fatima. I’ll fight them.”
“I believe thou wouldst; thou certainly
fought for me outside my town. For the first part of what the king’s
desireth, would be easy to think on. But the second would not.”
“That’s what the king hath said,” Gonzalo
replied.
“He’s a wise man,”
Fátima
added.
“Wouldst thou listen, and let me try to
explain the religion part,” he said.
She
wasn’t so narrow of mind that she wouldn’t listen. She actually
hoped he would be able convince her: to show her it would be all right.
Neither wished to lose the other. They both hoped the barrier between them
was surmountable. It was like each of them was standing before a wall,
across from one another, wishing the wall would crumble.
“Tomorrow, we'll speak of this again,” Gonzalo
said. “Pray thou and I'll do likewise.”
She nodded she would, and added, "Amanhã."
Explaining the Faith
The next day
they met again and walked to another spot. Gonzalo said, “Thou hast a high
regard for Maryam, the one we call Mary, is that not so?”
"Yes," she replied.
“Thy Mahomet believeth his own daughter ranked
next to Mary in heaven,” and he smiled as he bypassed the daughter's
name...“and of women, Mary has the highest place.”
She smiled, and playfully added, “Even
higher than me.” She knew he was referring to another Fatima.
Gonzalo enjoyed her touch of humor and went on,
“If Mary's higher in heaven
than any other woman, wouldst she not then, be closer to God, the one thou
callest Allah?”
“It wouldst seem so, yes.”
Gonzalo continued, “Believest thou in the
Virgin birth of her Son Jesus?
“Yes , we believeth that.”
“And if she’s a Virgin giving birth,” Gonzalo said, “then no man couldst be the father of Jesus. There must be something special about her Son. His conception hadst to be miraculous, beyond man's power.” She looked at him and was thinking. He was taking her deep into thought. Even Mohammad, couldn't claim that kind of birth, she thought. The first stone fell away from the wall separating them.
Fatima thought about their conversation that night, and when she awoke during the early morning hours, it came back to mind. She lay there thinking that there is something special about about Jesus and Mary. Could it be that Gonzalo is right? Then it occurred to her, that if Mary is higher than other women, then couldn't her offspring Jesus be on a level higher than other men? Even higher than Mohammad? Could my people and the prophet be wrong? Another stone slipped from the wall.
When she next saw Gonzalo, she spoke of her thoughts when she awoke: about Jesus and Mary being special and the concept of higher. He was delighted to hear what she'd thought about. Something was dawning on her, yet there was a cloud in her sky, and she asked, “Gonzalo, about this Trinity? How canst it not be three Gods?
“It’s several Persons, not several Gods…It’s One God, and since He’s almighty and all powerful, He can be three persons in Himself.
“It’s so hard to see this, Gonzalo” she said.
“It is difficult to see and understand. He createth the clover with three leaves on one stem, and I understandeth not how it happens. But God puts it into nature. It's a mystery and the Trinity's a mystery, something to accept on faith since God hast revealed it, and His word is good.”
She listened as he went on eloquently, “Some things we seest not. Thou thinkest a thought, but seest it not. Thou feelest the wind, but seest it not...yet thou knowest it's there...” and he added with merriment....“Wish we hadst some of that 'seest it not,' to blow on us right now. It's warm out.”
She laughed a little at his humor. She so admired him.
Gonzalo mused about the way it happened: how she awakened to the specialness. “The thought thou hast is true, Fátima. Jesus and Mary art special, very special.”
“And thou art special,” she said.
He was pleased, but he remarked, “But they're more special.”
“Gonzalo, thou knowest my meaning.”
“Of course, I do,” he laughed in good humor. He could sense the wall was weakening and it brought joy to his heart, a wall he yearned to fall.
Grace was filtering into Fátima's soul, coming from Jesus Himself, the One Whom the Mahometans sadly misunderstood. If only they could see that Mary's being different, was because Jesus was so different. Jesus as the Son of God is a pure, perfect and holy Being, and Mary, the vessel through whom He came into the world, was untouched by sin.
In Mary, the unborn Jesus was wrapped in holiness and purity. Their Koran even says, "Behold! the angels said: 'O Mary! Allah hath chosen you and purified you ― chosen you above the women of all nations!' " 9 and in Muslim thought, her purity is equated to being without sin. Muhammad himself said “Every person to whom his mother gives birth [has two aspects to his life]; when his mother gives birth Satan strikes him but it was not the case with Mary and her son...," referring to Jesus.
At Mass and Church
Gonzalo invited Fátima to go to Mass with him. For her it was a little difficult since she’d only been to mosques, but she went with him. She observed the interior beauty, and was interested in what went on at the Mass. She heard the ringing of the bells at the Consecration, saw the people attentive to the Host, and watched them kneel to receive it. She smelled the smoke of incense and heard the singing. And she saw a likeness of Maryam.
Afterwards she asked Gonzalo about the white wafer, why they were kneeling to receive it? He explained that what looked like a wafer was actually Jesus Himself, changed from bread in an unseen way, during the Mass. They knelt not to what was bread before, but to Who the bread became; they knelt in reverence to God.
He explained how Maryam interceded with her Son Jesus at a wedding and how Jesus performed the miracle of the wine. He worried a bit about telling that story as the Mahometans were opposed to wine. But he strove ahead, telling her anyway: telling her about Jesus performing a miracle at the Wedding Feast of Cana; how he changed water into wine, and how it was good wine. Not for drunkenness, he said, but for celebrating together.
Now Jesus performs another miracle with wine and bread in the Mass, but this is a Hidden Miracle, that we see with the eyes of faith. He explained to her that just as we need food to nourish our bodies, we need a spiritual food to nourish our spiritual souls. Jesus gives Himself in Communion as nourishment, and He made it easier for us, by remaining hidden under the appearance of Bread.
He introduced her to the priest, a very humble man who smiled as he welcomed her in Arabic, saying that it was nice to meet her and addressing her as Amîri, Princess. Gonzalo had confided in him about things he could say to her about the faith. He was seeing the fruit of his priestly counsel in her. They spoke briefly, and he told Fátima that if she had any questions, he would be glad to try to answer them. As they were taking leave of him, Gonzalo asked for his blessing and knelt to receive it. That simple action of Gonzalo's impressed her. It isn't always what's taught, but what's caught, and here she caught a sense of his reverence for his faith.
She noticed the crucifix on the wall and asked about that. Gonzalo told her that it represented how Jesus came down and died for our sins. He remembered what the priest had told him about this subject and tried to explain it to her: that deadly or mortal sin prevents us from obtaining the happiness of heaven. To get there, we need a special grace called sanctifying grace, which Jesus restored to the race by means of His sufferings and death on the cross. Jesus applies it to us through Baptism. In brief, He came down so we could go up. She thought that if He’s God and came down to die for us, He must really love us.
Afterwards Gonzalo knelt before a statue of Mary. He explained he wasn’t worshipping her, but "She's a Queen to us, a Maliki," he said, "and we've a high regard for her. Her statue here, honors her and helps bring her to mind." He told her he was asking her to intercede with God to help them. That touched her. On impulse, she knelt beside him. This gave him such happiness. He couldn’t help but see a symbolism here. In Mahometan thought, Mary was higher than Mohammad's daughter Fátima, and here was Fátima kneeling below this likeness of Mary. He glanced at her, smiled, and the Arabic words floated to mind: Anti jamila...She's beautiful.
As they left
the church she saw him genuflect, and understood he did this because of his
Jesus, Hidden under what appeared to be Bread. She'd seen the priest
put away the unconsumed Eucharistic Bread in the tabernacle.
She also noticed how Gonzalo dipped his hand in
the font of holy water, and crossed himself. He explained why he did this:
that it was holy water, what the Church calls a sacramental and uses
to obtain favors from God. When we come into the church, we do it as a
sign that we need to cleanse ourselves in the presence of God, here in the
Person of Jesus. Going out, we need to ask protection from evil and the
devils who prowl about the world trying to capture us for the domain of
hell. It protects us.
“Gonzalo,”
she asked, “the words thou sayest to thyself, when thou makest that sign,
what are they?”
He smiled as they walked into the sunshine,
“In the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
With it we call God's blessing on ourselves, and express a belief in the
Three Persons” and added with a smile, “and with one hand.”
Fatima was quick on the uptake, seeing the
sly connection he was making. She was sharp.
“Ah, Gonzalo, with thy one hand, thou triest to
convert this Fátima,
lower than thy Mary.” And she smiled a big smile.
“Yes, I'm guilty.”
And then he added,
“While
we accept it on faith, it's also true that One of the Three, Jesus, was seen
by others physically hanging on a cross, seen to physically die, seen to
rise again, and seen to ascend to heaven. People back in history saw
this with their very own eyes.”
She thought, and then said, “No man hath
power to die and come back from death and then riseth up as if he had
invisible wings. That is something beyond man.”
“Exactly,“ Gonzalo said.
She Decides
The next day
Fátima
decided of her own volition to go to where she knelt with Gonzalo before the
statue of Mary. There she beseeched Mary to help her as to what
she should do. Gonzalo waited by the door, seeming to instinctively know
that maybe he should let her be there by herself. As she knelt
with the likeness of Mary, something filled her soul, a sense a peace seemed
to settle over her heart. She was being given an actual grace, to
enlighten her mind and strengthen her will. She felt a resolve and
formed a decision in her heart.
As she
got up, she saw Gonzalo waiting by the door. She was radiant and her heart
was bursting. She was excited to tell him what she had decided.
She took his right hand, clasped him around the shoulder, and pressed her
cheek to his, saying softly, “I will become a Christian like thee.”
“O,
I'm so glad!” He replied. “And how
dost thou feel about the other part: about marrying this scarred soldier.”
“I thought it was obvious to thee...Of
course, I will...Thy
Fátima and my Gonzalito.”
He embraced her with joy. It was as if he
himself had been drawn up to heaven.
Fátima
had captured her captor.
Telling the King Her Decision
From the door of the sacristy, the priest observed the happy moment, and smiled.
They
went to see King Alfonso Henriquez, who, on seeing them, said,. “Ah,
Gonzalo, so this is thy Princess, the jewel thy heart seeketh.
Like I said, she’s beautiful...”
Fátima
blushed a bit but smiled. “...and that I wouldst decree to all
the realm...But thou and thy Princess have something to say to this old
king?”
“Yes, Sire, we have. She agreeth to both of thy
concerns. She shall become a Christian and marry me.”
“Of thy own free will and consent, Princess,” the
king asked.
“Yes, Sire,”
Fátima
happily formed the words, “of my own free will and consent…and with all my
heart.” She pressed Gonzalo’s hand in hers.
The king rose up, stepped down to them and said,
“Let me embrace the both of thee.” And he put his arms around them, putting
his head between theirs and pulled them all together in a three-in-one hug
with much gentleness yet strength. “I give thee both my blessing.
Now let’s have a real wedding with the bells, flowers and everything.”
Before the Wedding
He invited her to stay in the royal residence
until the nuptials, gave her a lady-in-waiting to attend her, and spread the
joy as if it were his own daughter. She would come to regard the king in a
fatherly way. She would often dine with him and Gonzalo was often
invited.
Gonzalo would come to the king's residence to see her and they would take walks. They were formally betrothed, and Gonzalo gave her a beautiful necklace of precious stones. She studied Catholic teaching with the priest, with Gonzalo along. She was learning her prayers, the Ave for one: Avé Maria, cheia de graça
― music to Gonzalo's ears ― as she prepared for her wedding. They made her a fine white wedding dress, trimmed with embroidered flowers, with a long veil. She would be modestly attired, fitting for the modesty and chastity she guarded. The time of
anticipating the wedding was like a blue sky, yet there was a cloud.
The cloud hung along the southern horizon, toward Alcacer do Sal. She
wished her family could be there, and that she could see them now. But
she knew the danger, even from her own people if they heard she was
converting to Christianity. It was the harsh part of the faith she was
now parting with. Sometimes Gonzalo would wipe away a tear and comfort
her as she thought of her home. She would like her family to rejoice
with her at her wedding, but alas it was not to be.
The Baptism and the Wedding
Even so, the wedding was a
happy occasion. She came to the church in a horse-drawn
carriage, decorated with flowers, sitting beside the King Alfonso Henriquez,
arrayed in his finest. He stepped out first and extended his hand, to
help her step down, and they walked to the church door to the cheers of
people and to the words of how beautiful she looked. The king was
proud to be seen with her. After they entered the church, the king
escorted her down the aisle to where Gonzalo was waiting for her before the
sanctuary. King Alfonso then handed her off to him with a kiss to her
cheek and stepped back to sit down in front.
Gonzalo led
Fátima to the
baptismal font, where the lady in waiting, lifted off her veil, revealing
more of her luxuriant hair. She held the veil draped over her arm, for
the Princess.
Fátima had
chosen Oriana for her Baptismal name: a name derived from Latin meaning
"sunrise", and which shares the same root as Aurora, meaning "dawn."
And for her it was the dawn of a new life, not only her wedded life to
follow, but the new life of sanctifying grace, which is somehow a sharing in
God's supernatural life. It happily seems the name is also a
blend of "oro" meaning gold and Ana, the mother of Mary.
The celebrant slowly intoned the
words, audible enough for the congregation to hear: "Fatima thou art,
of the life thou leavest, but Oriana thou shalt become." She
bowed her head, and the priest dipped some water from the font. He
poured it slowly and solemnly over her forehead, saying "Oriana, I baptize
thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."
While she felt the water running off her head, the moment was profound for
her, and she manifested that in her reverent demeanor. At that moment
a great transformation took place. She went from being a creature of
God, to being a child of His, receiving that special grace that sanctified
her soul. As Fatima raised her head, the choir burst into joyous
Alleluias.
Her lady-in-waiting gathered her train to
the side, so she could turn to move to the altar. She and Gonzalo went
with arms together, holding hands. She was radiant with beauty, both
without and within, as the radiance of grace shone in her soul. She
beamed, and the congregation smiled to see her, as the notes of Alleluia
resounded to the ceiling and walls. Through the opened doors, others
who'd gathered outside, were watching the the event.
. Standing together they
exchanged their vows, and kneeling together they met Jesus in the Communion
of the Mass. It was her First Communion and she received the sacrament on
her tongue, with profound awe, respect and love. She bowed her
head for a long moment, saying softly in Portuguese as she did so, "Meu
doce Jesus, meu Deus. Amo-te. Eu adoro-te."
10
At the close of the Mass and the ceremony, they were presented as Don
Gonzalo and Dõna Oriana Herminguez.
Trumpets sounded triumphant notes, strings strummed, and the choir swelled
in song...
The Mass ended with a blessing.
Before going down the aisle toward the doors, they went over to where the
king sat. Gonzalo bowed and she curtsied. Then without being
formal but with affection, they put their arms around the king once more,
with their three heads together, their three-in-one embrace, she to one side
and he, to the other. She kissed the king on his cheek. Tears of
holy love emerged from his old eyes, and slowly slid down his face. He
turned to watch as she and Gonzalo went down the aisle, strewn with petals
of pink and white.
With handclasps, nods, greetings and smiles they moved along and exited the church, stepping forth into a rain petals. Gonzalo's friends of the exploit, raised their gleaming swords in an archway as did members of the royal guard, which they passed under. Yet even more petals were flecking their path as they came from beneath the corridor of weapons, into full sunlight. His troops demanded that he kiss the bride, and looking a little bashful, each met the lips of the other in heartfelt affection.
His men and the troops
raised their swords flashing in the sun, and cheered heartily. The
people gathered round clapped their hands. Secretly amongst the crowd,
was one sent by the Prince of Alcacer, her father, to observe, as word
had reached the Prince's ears. Had Oriana had a chance to study the
person, she might've of recognized him, but so much filled her mind and
heart that day, with the the Baptism, the Mass, the wedding and all.
Their Life Together
As a wedding gift, the king presented them with
the village of Abdegas where the sun of her name rose to the
community, brightening and adding the warmth of her personality.
She and Gonzalo lived in the castle there, where they had a chapel, a place
she frequented. The way she looked at it, with Jesus in the Blessed
Sacrament, Jesus lived in the castle with them. It was a focal point
for her, for the holiness of God was there.
She became a good Catholic Christian, but this
did not prevent her from adapting the Islamic Salat, the practice of
praying five times a day, to her new life. At dawn, noon and
mid-afternoon, at sunset and before going to bed, from wherever she was, she
faced the Blessed Sacrament instead of Mecca. Sometimes she would lay
a little rug in the aisle of the chapel, and facing the sanctuary, she would
kneel down and bend forward to the floor in adoration of God.
She could easily adapt to her Catholicism, the Islamic
Sawm of fasting, and the Zakat of almsgiving. The
latter she incorporated in giving food to the poor and clothing to the
needy. Fátima would go to the
marketplace, mingle with the people and would talk with them. She
would inquire about the sick and visit them. They would remember her
smile and what she did, and would speak of it amongst themselves.
She would become so loved that the town's
name would be changed to honor her. From her baptismal name of Oriana,
would come the name Ourem. Another form of her name was Oureana, which
is closer to the spelling of Ourem.11
Perhaps the spelling was the difference
between the Spanish and Portuguese, that time would change.
There they spent
happy days. Gonzalo had written a little song for her.
By the light of melting beeswax candles and the glowing warmth of
crackling fire, it was sung for them with the accompaniment of a lute.
Part of the lyrics testified to his love for her:
♪ Oriana, dearest! trust the lay thou hearest;
Life to me is only life since
blest with thee:
Life no value knowing , save of thy bestowing―
Thou prize, that battle gave me, dost, in turn enslave me,
For nothing fairer, dearer,
thro' all the world I see! ♪
It brought a smile to her face, as she
turned appreciatively to Gonzalo, who watched, not from hiding now, but in
plain sight to see her response. He thought of the tumult of how they
met, and of how his eye, and then his heart were drawn to her. The
people at Abdegas warmed to her amiability and to her personality. She
fit in well.
They would speak of children, and if a boy would be
given to them, she'd say they'd call him Gonzalez, the "ez" meaning he was
the son of Gonzalo. Gonzalo smiled at that.
“I guess that's a Spanish ending and we're in Portugal, but that's
all right,”
she'd say. Gonzalo knew his own second name Herminguez meant
"the son of Hermigo," his father, and that the second name of King Alfonzo
Henriquez, meant "the son of Henry."
Death Comes to the Princess
But their joy together, would end all too
soon. After taking up residence in the castle, she only lived a year.
She parted from life, yet in her youth, becoming the captive of death.
Though he so wished it, Gonzalo would be unable to capture her back this
time. The cause is not here known, but among the possibilities, a
plausible one is that she was with child and died of complications, neither
she nor the baby surviving. But we don't hear anything of a
child so death may've come for another reason.
As the end neared, and she lay dying, tears
welled up in Gonzalo's eyes. He wept as a great sadness and loneliness
filled his heart. Gently yet firmly, he held her hand, yet warm
with life.
Although weak, she turned to him,
smiling as best as she could, her beautiful eyes misty now. She made
an effort to speak, using the loving Spanish diminutive of his name: "Gonzalito...mi
Gonzalito," she said with her last breaths,
"I go to Jesus...but if He wills, I'll come for thee...in thy time."
And now in a voice, barely audible, "Adeus...adeus...mi Gonzalito...Amo-te." 12
She breathed a few more times, then breathed no more. He knelt at her
bedside and sobbed to himself in grief, yet clasping her hand. The
knight, captivated by his captive, was now smitten by the sword of sorrow.
He felt a wound no honey would cure.
Life Without Her
It pained him deeply to commit her to
burial, as tears once more burst from his eyes and coursed down his cheek.
He gently caressed her cheek and arranged a bouquet of flowers in her hand,
her favorites of the Portuguese countryside. He traced a cross on her
forehead with holy water and put a crucifix in her hand along with the
flowers of the earth. The sorrowing knight kissed her farewell before
they shut her from the world.
"Sleep," he quietly said, almost to himself, as tears still came forth, "sleep my beauty, sleep in peace..."
Heartbroken, Gonzalo went about in a daze not even caring much to eat. Their home without her brought such memories. Other maidens would gladly have married him, but Fátima held his heart. He decided to join the monastery at Alcobaça, where his prayers went up to heaven, where his beloved had gone. He took her mortal remains with him for reburial on that holy ground, accompanying them all the while on the journey over the road.
In time he was sent to a priory in
the mountains, and with the abbot's permission, her remains were taken
there, to be with him. He named the place after her, calling it by her
Arabic and Muslim name,
Fátima.
―John Riedell
Epilogue
Brother Gonzalo
often brought flowers to her burial place, her favorites, where he said a
prayer for the soul of one who never unclasped his heart. At times a
tear would start again from his eyes and he needed to distract himself from
the ache of loss. In time he advanced in age, and his own passing
approached. As his eyes dimmed to the world, he thought he saw her
standing by him in radiant glory, clasping him gently by the arm, and saying
with her beautiful smile, "Come, Gonzalito, come, it is time..."
―JR
______________________________
1.
This account is from The Dublin University Magazine, Vol. 40
by William Curry, Jon & Co., No. CCXXXV, July 1852, Vol. XL, Leaves
from the Portuguese Olive―No. III.
A skeletal form of the story was drawn from Leaves and other
accounts, and some details were given, especially regarding the
exploit at Alcacer do Sal, but
left untold were other parts of the the story, as they unfolded back then.
I used the liberty of imagination for conversations, to fill in scenes, etc.
In addition to the narrative accounts, Leaves
and otherwise, other sources were consulted about persons, history,
geography, religion, language, and flora and fauna of the area.
2.
The first part of the Portuguese Hail Mary, derived mostly from the Gospel
of Luke, 1:28 & 42.
3.
After the Christian conquest of the area
in the 13th Century, this became the site of the Santa Maria do Castelo
church.
4.. Portuguese
Tragar
- to swallow, devour (a
trago
is a swallow, swig or drink)
In Spanish
trago
is a swig, a gulp and
tragar
is to swallow, devour. Spanish Moro - Moor (from North Africa);
hay moros en la costa,
the coast isn't clear.
Tragamonedas
is a slot machine (monedas
-
coins)
5.
This is a curious thing. The account from Leaves from the
Portuguese Olive―No. III, says that it seemed "she threw
herself in the way of recapture by Gonzalo as often as she was snatched from
him."
6. Koran,
Sura 16: And the Lord hath taught the BEE, saying: "Provide thee houses in
the mountains, and in the trees, and in
the hives,
which men do build thee:
Feed, moreover on every kind of fruit and walk the beaten paths of thy
Lord." From its belly cometh forth a fluid of varying hues, which yieldeth
medicine to man.
On a website called OWM - Ostomy Wound Management, it says honey
is a therapeutic agent. It reports a source, saying, that honey
is also mentioned in both the Torah and the Bible "in relation to healing."
It goes on to say, that others have recorded its medical properties,
including the Edwin Smith Papyrus, Hippocrates, and Galen.
The article says, "honey is being re-established as a valuable agent in
modern wound care management." It cites these factors that
facilitate healing: "providing a moist environment, debriding, deodorizing,
antibacterial, anti-inflammatory capabilities."
In a section on wound healing it mentions that it should be ascertained
if a patient has an allergy to bee stings or bee products.
7. On the positive side, the Koran condemned certain practices of the ancient Arabs, including burying female babies alive, considering women as property and women having no inheritance rights . However, the Koran does teach that men are superior to women in Suras 2:228 and 4:34.. In Sura 4:34 there's a divine sanction to beat women if you fear her disobedience.
8. O Luctador. In modern Portuguese, o is "the" and lutador is a fighter or wrestler (lutar - to fight, wrestle) Compare with Spanish luchar - to fight, wrestle and luchador - wrestler, fighter. Lutador , may suggest that the Portuguese word evolved from the Spanish, differing in that it has a "t" instead of a "ch."
9. Koran, Sura 3:42
10. Portuguese meu - my, mine; doce - sweet; Deus - God; amor - love; t e - to or for you; Eu - I ; adorar - to adore.
11.
Nuno
Alvares Pereira, a Portuguese general, who lived after the time of Fátima,
from 1360 to 1431, was the Count of Ourem, and is known as "The
Precursor of Fatima." From his young year s he was devoted to
Mary, her Brown Scapular and the Rosary, all part of the Fatima message, yet
to come.
He had been a great
Prince, but became a humble monk.
In tribute to his life,
Pope Benedict
XV beatified him in
1918, and Pope Benedict XVI canonized him Saint
Nuno Alvares Pereira on April 26. 2009,
in St. Peter's Square.
12.
Adeus
- Goodbye;
mi
- my;
Gonzalito -
diminutive of Gonzalo;
Amo-te - I
love you.
______________________________
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