The Martyr of the Catacombs

  THE MARTYR OF THE CATACOMBS

  A TALE OF ANCIENT ROME

  If after the manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what advantageth it me, if the dead rise not?--ST. PAUL

  ILLUSTRATED

  NEW YORK: HUNT & EATON

  CINCINNATI: CRANSTON & CURTS

  CONTENTS.

  I. THE COLISEUMII. THE PRETORIAN CAMPIII. THE APPIAN WAYIV. THE CATACOMBSV. THE CHRISTIAN'S SECRETVI. THE CLOUD OF WITNESSESVII. THE CONFESSION OF FAITHVIII. LIFE IN THE CATACOMBSIX. THE PERSECUTIONX. THE ARRESTXI. THE OFFERXII. POLLIO'S TRIALXIII. THE DEATH OF POLLIOXIV. THE TEMPTATIONXV. LUCULLUS

  Illustrations.

  THE BOY MARTYRPLAN OF THE CATACOMBSA PASSAGE IN THE CATACOMBSTHE COLISEUM

  CHAPTER I.

  THE COLISEUM.

  "Butchered to make a Roman holiday."

  It was a great festival day in Rome. From all quarters vast numbers ofpeople came pouring forth to one common destination. Over the CapitolineHill, through the Forum, past the Temple of Peace and the Arch of Titusand the imperial palace; on they went till they reached the Coliseum,where they entered its hundred doors and disappeared within.

  There a wonderful scene presented itself. Below, the vast arena spreadout, surrounded by the countless rows of seats which rose to the top ofthe outer wall, over a hundred feet. The whole extent was covered withhuman beings of every class and every age. So vast an assemblagegathered in such a way, presenting to view long lines of stern faces,ascending far on high in successive rows, formed a spectacle which hasnever elsewhere been equaled, and which was calculated beyond all othersto awe the soul of the beholder. More than one hundred thousand peoplewere gathered here, animated by one common feeling, and incited by onesingle passion. It was the thirst for blood which drew them hither, andnowhere can we find a sadder commentary on the boasted civilization ofancient Rome than this her own greatest spectacle.

  Here were warriors who had fought in foreign wars and were familiar withdeeds of valor, yet they felt no indignation at the scenes of cowardlyoppression displayed before them; nobles of ancient families were here,but they could find in these brutal shows no stain upon their country'shonor. Philosophers, poets, priests, rulers, the highest as well as thelowest in the land, crowded these seats; but the applauding shout of thepatrician was as loud and as eager as that of the plebeian. What hopewas there for Rome when the hearts of her people were, universally givenup to cruelty and brutal oppression?

  Upon a raised seat in a conspicuous part of the amphitheater was theEmperor Decius, near whom the chief people among the Romans weregathered. Among these there was a group of officers belonging to thePretorian guards, who criticised the different points in the scenebefore them with the air of connoisseurs. Their loud laughter, theirgayety, and their splendid attire made them the object of much attentionfrom their neighbors.

  Several preliminary spectacles had been introduced, and now the fightsbegan. Several hand-to-hand combats were presented, most of whichresulted fatally, and excited different degrees of interest according tothe courage or skill of the combatants. Their effect was to whet theappetite of the spectators to a keener relish, and fill them with eagerdesire for the more exciting events which were to follow.

  One man in particular had drawn down the admiration and applause of themultitude. He was an African from Mauritania; of gigantic strength andstature. But his skill seemed equal to his strength. He wielded hisshort sword with marvelous dexterity, and thus far had slain everyopponent.

  He was now matched with a gladiator from Batavia, a man fully equal instature and strength to himself. The contrast which the two presentedwas striking. The African was tawny, with glossy curling hair andglittering eyes; the Batavian was light in complexion, with blonde hairand keen gray eyes. It was hard to tell which had the advantage, sonearly were they matched in every respect; but as the former had alreadyfought for some time, it was thought that the odds were rather againsthim. The contest, however, began with great spirit and eagerness on bothsides. The Batavian struck tremendous blows, which were parried by theadroitness of the other. The African was quick and furious, but he coulddo nothing against the cool and wary defense of his vigilant adversary.

  At length, at a given signal, the combat was suspended, and thegladiators were led away, not through anything like mercy or admiration,but simply through a shrewd understanding of the best mode of satisfyingthe Roman public. It was well understood that they would return again.

  Now a large number of men were led into the arena. These were stillarmed with the short sword. In a moment they had begun the attack. Itwas not a conflict between two sides, but a general fight, in whichevery man attacked his neighbor. Such scenes were the most bloody, andtherefore the most exciting. A conflict of this kind would alwaysdestroy the greatest number in the shortest time. The arena presented ascene of dire confusion. Five hundred armed men in the prime of life andstrength all struggled confusedly together. Sometimes they would all beinterlocked in one dense mass; at other times they would violentlyseparate into widely scattered individuals, with a heap of dead upon thescene of the combat. But these would assail one another again withundiminished fury; separate combats would spring up all around, thevictors in these would rush to take part in others, until at last thesurvivors had once more congregated in one struggling crowd.

  At length their struggles became weaker. Out of five hundred but onehundred remained, and these were wearied and wounded. Suddenly a signalwas given, and two men leaped into the arena and rushed from oppositesides upon this crowd. They were the African and the Batavian. Freshfrom their repose, they fell upon the exhausted wretches before them,who had neither the spirit to combine nor the strength to resist. Itbecame a butchery. These two giants slaughtered right and left withoutmercy, until they alone stood upright upon the arena, and the applauseof the innumerable throng came down in thunder to their ears.

  These two again attacked each other, and attracted the attention of thespectators while the bodies of the wounded and slain were being removed.The combat was as fierce as before, and precisely similar. The Africanwas agile, the Batavian cautious. But finally the former made adesperate thrust; the Batavian parried it, and returned a stroke likelightning. The African sprang back and dropped his sword. But he was toolate, for the stroke of his foe had pierced his left arm. As he fell aroar of joy arose from one hundred thousand human beings. But this wasnot to be the end, for even while the conqueror stood over his victimthe attendants sprang forward and drew him away. Yet the Romans knew,and the wounded man knew that it was not mercy. He was merely to bereserved for a later but a certain fate.

  "The Batavian is a skillful fighter, Marcellus," said one young officerto a companion among the group which has been alluded to.

  "He is, indeed, Lucullus," replied the other. "I do not think that Iever saw a better gladiator. Indeed, both of them were much better thancommon."

  "They have a better man than either inside there."

  "Ah! who is he?"

  "The gladiator Macer. I think he is about the best I have ever seen."

  "I have heard of him. Do you think he will be out today?"

  "I understood so."

  The short conversation was interrupted by a loud roar which came fromthe vivarium, a place where the wild beasts were confined. It was afierce and a terrific roar, such as the most savage beasts give whenthey are at the extremity of hunger and rage.

  Soon iron gratings were flung open by men from above, and a tigerstalked forth into the arenas. He was from Africa, whence he had beenbrought but a few days previously. He had been kept three days withoutfood, and his furious rage, which hunger and confinement had heightenedto a terrible degree, was awful to behol
d. Lashing his tail, he walkedround the arena gazing with bloodshot eyes upward at the spectators. Buttheir attention was soon diverted to another object. From the oppositeside a man was thrust out into the arena. He had no armor, but was nakedlike all gladiators, with the simple exception of a cloth around hisloins. Bearing in his hand the customary short sword, he advanced with afirm pace toward the center of the scene.

  All eyes at once were fixed upon this man. "Macer, Macer," was calledaround by the innumerable spectators.

  The tiger soon saw him, and uttered a short savage growl of fearfulimport. Macer stood still, with his eyes calmly fixed upon the beast,who, lashing his tail more madly than ever, bounded toward him. Finallythe tiger crouched, and then, with one terrific spring, leaped directlyupon him. But Macer was prepared. Like a flash he darted to the left,and just as the tiger fell to the earth, he dealt a short sharp blowstraight to his heart. It was a fatal stroke. The huge beast shudderedfrom head to foot, and drawing all his limbs together, he uttered a lasthowl that sounded almost like the scream of a human being, and fell,dead upon the sand.

  Again the applause of the multitude rose like a thunder peal all around.

  "Wonderful!" cried Marcellus. "I never saw skill equal to that of Macer!"

  "Without doubt he has been fighting all his life," rejoined his friend.

  But soon the carcass of the tiger was drawn away, and again the creak ofa grating as it swung apart attracted attention. This time it was alion. He came forth slowly, and looked all around upon the scene as ifin surprise. He was the largest of his species, a giant in size, and hadlong been preserved for some superior antagonist. He seemed capable ofencountering two animals like the tiger that had preceded him. Besidehim Macer was like a child.

  The lion had fasted long, but he showed no fury like that of the tiger.He walked across the arena, and then completely around it in a kind oftrot, as though searching for escape. Finding every side closed, hefinally retreated to the center, and putting his face close to theground, he uttered a roar so deep, so loud, and so long, that theponderous stones of the coliseum itself vibrated at the sound.

  Macer stood unmoved. Not a muscle of his face changed. He carried hishead erect with the same watchful expression, and held his sword ready.At length the lion turned full upon him. The wild beast and the manstood face to face eyeing one another. But the calm gaze of the manseemed to fill the animal with wrath. He started back with his hair andtail erect, and tossing his mane, he crouched for the dreadful spring.

  The vast multitude stood spellbound. Here, indeed, was a sight worthy oftheir interest.

  The dark form of the lion darted forward, but again the form of thegladiator, with his customary maneuver, leaped aside and struck. Thistime, however, his sword struck a rib, and fell from his hand. The lionwas slightly wounded, but the blow served only to rouse his fury to thehighest point.

  Yet Macer lost not one jot of his coolness in that awful moment.Perfectly unarmed, he stood before the beast waiting his attack. Againand again the lion sprang, but each time he was evaded by the nimblegladiator, who by his own adroit movements contrived to reach the spotwhere his weapon lay and regain possession of it. Armed with his trustysword, he waited a final spring. The lion came down as before, but thistime Macer's aim was true. The sword pierced his heart. The enormousbeast fell, writhing in pain. Rising again to his feet, he ran acrossthe arena, and with a last roar he fell dead by the bars at which he hadentered.

  Macer was now led away, and the Batavian reappeared. The Romans requiredvariety. A small tiger was let loose upon the Batavian and wasvanquished. A lion was then set upon him. He was extremely fierce,although of only ordinary size. It was evident that the Batavian was notat all equal to Macer. The lion made a spring and was wounded, but onmaking a second attack, he caught his opponent and literally tore him topieces. Upon this Macer was sent out again, and killed this lion easily.

  And now, while Macer stood there the recipient of unbounded applause, aman entered from the opposite side. It was the African. His arm had notbeen bound up, but hung down by his side covered with blood. Hestaggered toward Macer with painful steps. The Romans knew that he hadbeen sent out to be killed. The wretch knew it himself also, for as hedrew near to his antagonist he dropped his sword, and cried out in akind of desperation,

  "Quick! kill me, and put me out of pain."

  To the amazement of all, Macer stepped back and flung down his sword.The spectators stared and wondered. Still more amazed were they whenMacer turned toward the emperor and stretched out his hands.

  "August Emperor," he cried, "I am a Christian. I will fight wild beasts,but I will not raise my hand against a fellow-man. I can die, but I willnot kill."

  Whereupon a mighty murmur arose.

  "What does he say?" cried Marcellus. "A Christian! when did that happen?"

  "I heard," said Lucullus, "that he was visited in his cell by some ofthese wretched Christians, and joined their contemptible sect. They aremade up of the offscouring of man kind. It is very probable that he is aChristian."

  "And will he incur death rather than fight?"

  "That is the way with these fanatics."

  Rage took the place of surprise in the fierce multitude. They wereindignant that a mere gladiator should dare to disappoint them. Theattendants rushed out to interfere. The fight must go on. If Macer wouldnot fight he should take the consequences.

  But he was firm. Unarmed, he advanced toward the African, whom he couldhave slain even then with a blow of his fist. The face of the Africanwas like that of a fiend. Surprise, joy, and triumph gleamed in hissinister eyes. Seizing his sword in a firm grasp, he struck Macer to theheart.

  "Lord Jesus receive my spirit--" The words were drowned in a torrent ofblood, and this humble but bold witness for Christ passed away fromearth to join the noble army of martyrs.

  "Are there many such scenes as this?" asked Marcellus.

  "Often. Whenever Christians appear. They will fight any number ofbeasts. Young girls will come firmly to meet lions and tigers, but notone of the madmen will fight with men. The populace are bitterlydisappointed in Macer. He is the very best of all the gladiators, and inbecoming a Christian he has acted like a fool."

  "It must be a wonderful religion which could make a common gladiator actthus," said Marcellus.

  "You'll have a chance to learn more about it."

  "How so?"

  "Haven't you heard? You are appointed to unearth some of theseChristians. They have got down in the Catacombs, and they must be huntedup."

  "I should think they have enough already. Fifty were burned this morning."

  "And a hundred were beheaded last week. But that is nothing. The city isswarming with them. The emperor has determined to restore the oldreligion perfectly. Since these Christians have appeared the empire hasbeen declining. He has made up his mind to annihilate them. They are acurse, and must be dealt with accordingly. You will soon understand."

  "I haven't been in Rome long enough to know," said Marcellus meekly,"and I do not understand what the Christians really believe. I haveheard almost every crime imputed to them. However, if it be as you say Iwill have a chance of learning."

  But now another scene attracted their attention.

  An old man entered upon the scene. His form was bowed, and his hairsilver white with extreme old age. His appearance was hailed with shoutsof derision, although his majestic face and dignified manner were onlycalculated to excite admiration. As the shouts of laughter and yells ofderision came down to his ears he raised his head and uttered a few words.

  "Who is he?" asked Marcellus.

  "Alexander, a teacher of the abominable Christian sect. He is soobstinate that he will not recant--"

  "Hush, he is speaking."

  "Romans!" said the old man, "I am a Christian. My God died for me, and Igladly lay down my life for him--"

  A loud outburst of yells and execrations from the fierce mob drowned hisvoice. Before it was over three panthers came bounding
toward him. Hefolded his arms, and looking up to heaven, his lips moved as ifmurmuring prayers. The savage beasts fell upon him as he stood, and in afew minutes he was torn in pieces.

  Other wild animals were now let in. They bounded around the inclosure,they leaped against the barrier, and in their rage assailed one another.It was a hideous scene.

  Into the midst of this a helpless band of prisoners were rudely thrust.They were chiefly young girls, who were thus sacrificed to thebloodthirsty passions of the savage Roman mob. The sight would havemoved to pity any heart in which all soft feelings had not beenblighted. But pity had no place in Rome. Cowering and fearful, the pooryoung maidens showed the weakness of human nature when just confrontedwith death in so terrible a form, but after a few moments faith resumedits power, and raised them above all fear. As the beasts became aware ofthe presence of their prey and began to draw near, these young maidensjoined hands, and raising their eyes to heaven, sang out a solemn chantwhich rose clear and wondrously sweet upward to heaven:

  "Unto Him that loved us To Him that washed us from our sins In his own blood; To Him that made us kings and priests, To God and the Father; To Him be glory and dominion Forever and ever. Halleluiah. Amen!"

  One by one the voices were hushed in blood, and agony, and death; one byone the shrieks of anguish were mingled with the shouts of praise; andthese fair young spirits, so heroic under suffering and faithful untodeath, had carried their song to join it with the psalm of the redeemedon high.