Martyr of Christ the King: Miguel Augustín Pro

Antonio Dragon, S. J.; trans. Lawrence Drummond, LL.L

Preface By P. Cardinal Gasparri

Segreteria di Stato di Sua Santitá ¶ Dal Vaticano, December 19, 1928.

Reverend Father,

His Holiness graciously received the biography, which you presented to him, of Father Miguel Augustín Pro, of your Society, executed in Mexico, on November 23, 1927, in hatred of his zeal for the Divine King Jesus.

The Holy Father cordially thanks you for this proof of filial veneration which is at the same time a tribute to the memory of the hero of Christ the King. As a pledge of particular benevolence, he imparts to you wholeheartedly a special Apostolic Blessing.

Believe me, Reverend Father,

Yours devotedly,

P. Cardinal Gasparri

Rev. Ant. Dragon, S. J.

Preface From A Canadian Bishop

Archbishop's Palace, St. Boniface, Man. September 4, 1928.

Reverend Father,

Your book comes out just as I am sending a circular to the priests in my diocese on the persecution in Mexico.

No time could have been more opportune to present your book to Catholics, whom I ask to pray for our persecuted brethren.

The Church is the great family of God, and we have no right to be indifferent to what fifteen million Catholics are now suffering. The persecutors are seeking to root out their love for their Elder Brother Jesus Christ.

We must try to realize the heroic lives they are leading and the awful sufferings they are enduring.

You have served the cause of the Church by setting before us the history of Father Miguel Augustín Pro. As you knew the great apostle of Christ the King personally and met several witnesses of his life and death, you produced a lifelike picture of him.

Father Pro's life is described in its Mexican setting, and the reader perusing it will have a good idea of the religious persecution in Mexico. Contact with Father Pro will make him feel stronger and prouder of belonging to the great family of Christ which still begets saints.

Father Pro spent his heroic life fortifying souls and spurring them on to love Christ the King. May your book carry on his work!

Outline Of The History Of Mexico

The history of Mexico falls into three chapters.

The first is little known.

Old Mexico impresses the traveller by the remnants of a rather advanced material civilization and its huge stone buildings like the monuments of the Pharaohs. As early as the XIVth century, the powerful Aztec nation brought four or five tribes under its sway and proceeded to build the city of Mexico. A century later, the whole country was covered with roads, pyramids, palaces, and temples.

But this industrious nation offered human sacrifices to its uncouth divinities. Old traditions tell of twenty thousand victims slaughtered at the inauguration of the great temple of Teocalli.

Fernando Cortez opened the second chapter of the history of Mexico by giving that vast country to Spain in 1521.

With five hundred men he ruthlessly conquered the natives and kept them under an iron rule. The yoke of “His Catholic Majesty” would have borne heavily on the vanquished, had not the Church stood between them and the conquerors and set herself to uplift the the Indians from their degradation.

Great as were the faults of the Spaniards, their colonization system has, however, proved most effective.

The same problem faced the three great nations who settled in the New World.

The French, on landing at Quebec, found some twenty thousand Indians. They sought to make Frenchmen of them, and failed.

The English, on setting foot on the coast of New England, fell in with Indian tribes. They determined to get rid of them, and succeeded.

But the Spaniards managed to preserve the Mexican Indians by christianizing them. The civil government, while systematically treating them as inferiors and suffering the great landowners (encomenderos) to oppress them, welded them into a new race.

Mexico now has a population of fifteen millions, including a small minority of white people and five million pure-blooded Indians.

The vast majority are of mixed blood. Catholicism is the only religion known to the Mexicans.

It is only natural that the enemies of the Church should war against her priests and oppose her age-old influence. They may accuse the Church of having betrayed her mission: hundreds of looted churches and thousands of convents and schools closed down are a standing rebuttal.

The proportion of illiterates has grown alarmingly in Mexico within the last hundred years, that is, since the work of the Church has been paralysed by the leaders of the Republic.

In the century before Harvard came into existence, the University of Mexico was giving courses in medicine, philosophy, law, and natural sciences.

In 1544, the Franciscan Zumarraga, first Bishop of Mexico, set up the first printing press in the New World. He published classical books and catechisms: “Because,” said he, “there are so many people who know how to read!”

The religious Orders sent missionaries throughout the country, and the scattered tribes were brought together and christianized. Industries and arts flourished; native poets and painters vied with those of the Mother Country. This would have been a Golden Age, but for the iron hand of the wealthy Spanish masters. The people began to chafe under their rule.

In 1767, the expulsion of the Jesuits weakened the influence of the Church, and revolutionary ideas from France penetrated far and wide. This state of unrest induced the Creoles to shake off the Spanish yoke.

It was not a question of rebelling against the Church, which was blameless in the matter, as evidenced by the fact that the first Mexican revolutionist was a priest.

In 1810, Hidalgo y Costilla, Rector of Dolores, indignant at seeing his Creoles persistently debarred from public office, put himself at their head. Taking as his standard the banner of Our Lady of Guadalupe, with the support of friendly Indians, he soon commanded an army of 80,000 men. He was defeated, captured by the Spaniards, and executed.

His follower, Morelos, also a priest, raised the revolutionary standard and met with the same fate in 1815.

The struggle continued, and in 1820 the southern Indians revolted. General Iturbide was ordered to subdue them, but he threw in his lot with them and declared himself independent of Spain.

Iturbide succeeded in pacifying all parties, but political dissensions soon broke out again, and he had to abdicate. With him fell the short-lived empire which he had founded.

The following year, 1824, saw the proclamation of the Republic. The latter ushered in an era of sanguinary revolutions which is still in progress.

A Desecrated Church

Amid the political turmoil of the last century, the Church sought to combine the best elements. But after the declaration of independence, many Spanish bishops and priests had to leave the country. Masonry, imported from the United States by Joel Ponsett, first American consul, spread everywhere, gaining partisans among the leaders. “The Church,” they asserted, “is the state's most formidable foe; her influence must be destroyed!”

Meanwhile the parties were wearing themselves down by internecine strife. In 1848, Mexico fell into such a state of anarchy that she was compelled to cede nearly half her territory to the United States. But this did not bring the leaders to their senses. In 1857, the radical element prevailed and sought to revive the drastic legislation of the French Republic against the clergy and Catholic institutions.

The first president whose name will go down to history was Benito Juarez, a poor Indian educated by a village priest. Like his predecessors, he fought his way to power and was conspicuous for his hostility to the Church. By his infamous “Reform Laws,” he suppressed the Catholic Religion, confiscated monastic property, and introduced civil marriage.

His zeal might have been more usefully displayed in improving the financial condition of his country. Mexico had become too poor to pay her foreign debts. In 1863, Archduke Maximilian of Austria was sent by Napoleon III to compel the Mexican Government to meet its obligations. Supported by a French army, Maximilian defeated Juarez and founded an empire which, however, collapsed when France withdrew her forces. In 1867, Juarez was again elected president and renewed his onslaughts against the Church.

His successor, Lerdo de Tejàda, enforced the “Reform Laws,” struck the name of God off the statutes, abolished holydays, and forbade the clergy to teach or to wear a religious garb. Monasteries were turned into barracks or asylums. The religious who had flocked back during Maximilian’s short reign were again banished, the Sisters of Charity not excepted.

Mexico has always been the prize of the strong. Porfirio Dias seized it in 1877 and held it till 1911. At 24, he threw himself into the struggle, at 31 he was a general. In 1862, at the time of the unfortunate French intervention, he displayed extraordinary courage and skill. Often captured by Maximilian’s troops, he invariably managed to escape. In 1867, he stormed Puebla and Mexico. The emperor was taken prisoner in Queretaro and executed.

Mexican Catholics look back with gratitude to the benevolent “tyrant.” Like another Mussolini, Porfirio Diaz reorganized the country, removing undesirables, securing competent men, and effecting useful reforms. The Church could breathe again. The iniquitous laws of Juarez, while unrepealed, were leniently applied. The religious returned despite the law. Catholic schools were opened to offset state schools. Seminaries, hospitals, and colleges sprang up under vigorous clerical management.

Meanwhile the radicals were on the alert. They chose officials of their own ilk, debarring Catholics who perhaps submitted too tamely to being kept out of office.

Present day Mexico is the outcome of these two influences which developed side by side. Atheistic schools turned out unscrupulous men who kill through hatred or ignorance. Catholic schools produced a generation of heroes ready to die for the faith.

Happy Years

Miguel Augustín Pro was twenty when this peaceful period closed. Before relating his checkered life for seventeen years, let us dwell on the happy years of his childhood.

Mexico, with a territory three times that of France, is one of the finest countries in the world. It has every climate; deep blue skies shed variegated tints over the plains; snow-capped mountains impart freshness to fields and men. Throughout the year every fruit and flower grows in some corner of the country.

But young Miguel did not come under the influence of this rich and sometimes enervating climate. He spent the first twenty years of his life in two mining centers, where his father carried on a successful business.

The Three Brothers: Humberto, Miguel, Roberto. Photo taken on March 19, 1927

At an altitude of ten thousand feet rises the mining town of Concepción del Oro in the State of Zacatecas, the very centre of Mexico, northwest of the capital. There the future martyr was born on the 13th of January, 1891, and was christened Miguel Augustín.

He had three sisters and three brothers. The eldest sister was a year older than Miguel; another was a year younger. Both became nuns. Ana Maria was born in 1897. She is now taking care of her father, an exile in Cuba. Then followed three brothers: Edmundo, who married in 1922: Humberto, who was shot with Miguel at the age of twenty-four; and Roberto (twenty-three) imprisoned with his brothers and then banished by Calles.

Needless to say, the parents were staunch Christians. Their fortitude stood out on many occasions. When Miguel's body, riddled with bullets, was delivered to his father, the latter tearlessly kissed his son’s forehead. The pride of giving him to Christ overbore his sorrow. He was ready to face the sacrifice which he had prepared, so to say, by the example of his own self-denying life. In 1914, when Carranza's revolutionary forces overran the country, he was despoiled of his property, persecuted, and compelled to flee for his life.

Young Miguel grew up in an atmosphere of courage. His mother, Josefa Juarez, revealed herself a valiant woman when persecution drove her from her home where she was living in comfort. Ailing and helpless, she had to make her way to Guadalajara to find safety. She accepted poverty without a murmur, working to support her family.

Adversity does not beget courage but reveals it. Such fortitude bespoke unwavering virtue in early years.

Miguel Augustín was still young when his father left Concepción del Oro to take up business at Saltillo, capital of the more northerly State of Coahuila.

Concepción del Oro, in the State of Zacatecas, Mexico, Where Miguel was Born

He did not begin by being remarkably pious. He was simply a good boy somewhat fond of tricks. In spite of his ability to learn, the mines attracted him more than the schoolroom. Nor was he without his weak points—as children will be glad to know—but his father and mother were there to keep him straight. He was not ashamed to relate that they did not spare the rod when he was young. One day when penniless he wanted to buy candy. The shopkeeper hesitated:

Miguel went on buying candy on credit till the bill mounted and was sent to his mother. The latter paid without protest, but Miguel long remembered the night when he went to bed “a sadder and a wiser man.”

At Manuel Acuna School, he was known to be full of life. Ever cheerful and witty, he soon became what he always remained—a charming companion. Ready to fight the most sturdy, sometimes he had the upper hand, sometimes he went down, like when he sallied forth one fine day with a brand new derby, and came home with a torn and battered hat.

He did not complete his schooling. His father, who owned and operated mines, welcomed an assistant in his eldest son. Miguel, with his remarkable business ability, took over the office work. An expert typist, he could strike off a hundred words a minute.

Whenever he was free he would go down into the pit and chat with the miners, whose slang he soon caught. One of his first retreats, after ordination, was preached to miners. He had no trouble in adopting their ways to make them feel at home. Thanks to his former intercourse with them, he found himself, to his surprise, talking their own language.

Amid the rush of business, young Miguel gave little or no time to piety. The religious life was far from his thoughts. His evenings were spent in social gatherings, in the pleasant company of his two sisters, whom he loved tenderly. Providence was thus quietly preparing the apostle's vocation, for, without disclosing their secret, they both intended to be nuns.

One fine morning they left home. Miguel was nineteen. Stunned by the blow that broke up their happy life, he stormed, especially against the Jesuits on hearing that the latter were his sisters’ spiritual advisers. He swore that he would never forgive them… One should never say: “No truce between us.”

Meanwhile he was beside himself with rage. He sulked and, out of spite, betook himself to the woods, there to live alone.

He remained hidden for some time, but his mother located him and induced him to return. She even prevailed upon him to make a retreat.

There the Lord called him—suddenly, as he had called the apostle Matthew. His life, which he intended devoting to workmen, would be entirely spent for souls, especially for the souls of workmen.

God wished him to be a priest and even a Jesuit. The young man was ready. At twenty he severed his two bonds: his family and his work among the miners.

On August 10, 1911, he entered the novitiate of the Society of Jesus at El Llano, in the State of Michoacan. Some particulars on his life as a novice are supplied by a friend who joined the novitiate the same year.

When Miguel's old friends mention his name, they smile and tell some good joke of his. The impression he left was that he had the gift of radiating happiness. Keen witted, he always saw the funny side of things, cheering all, offending none.

In the novitiate, he was himself from the start. He soon became popular, in the best sense of the word, for every one felt at ease with him.

The novicemaster at once detected his sterling qualities and resolved to develop them without overtaxing them. He was the first to laugh at Miguel's tricks, but lost no opportunity of testing his mettle.

Two months after his entrance, the novices were playing baseball during a holiday. While awaiting his turn at the bat, Miguel, unable to stand idle, proceeded to climb up the wire netting behind the catcher. There he bethought himself of addressing his brethren. They laughed encouragingly, so he went on. His witty speech proved so entertaining that the game stopped and all the novices grouped around him. Just as the peroration ended the novicemaster happened to pass by.

The would-be preacher had to begin all over again.

Miguel was trusted by his superiors, who always gave him some office to discharge towards his fellow novices, for he had not only his tricks to recommend him. Recreation once over, he fell into line and kept the minute rules of the novitiate with the spirit of faith.

Brewing Storms

The first years of Miguel's religious life were peaceful. The brewing storms broke chiefly over the north.

But the news was daily growing more alarming. The political atmosphere around President Porfirio Diaz was charged. Socialists stirred up ill-feeling towards a government savoring of monarchy and aroused the poor and the Indians with flaming speeches against the “tyrant.” A bold stroke precipitated a crisis, and Diaz fell.

After seven or eight months of turmoil, Francisco Madero was elected president at twenty-eight, on November 6, 1911. On June 7, he entered Mexico City in triumph. But he was powerless to stem the torrent which he himself had let loose.

Ambitious men rose up everywhere; defeated leaders sprang to arms; the President was out-generaled, and anarchy reigned supreme. In February 1913, Mexico saw the insurgent chieftains fall in a street battle.

Huerta was then the outstanding man. He assumed power for a few months.

Wise and firm legislation marked his short reign, which won the gratitude of Catholics. The latter, under Madero's liberal constitution, had already begun to organize. Their influential reviews spread Catholic ideas and promised a Catholic revival. They expected to return a splendid candidate, F. Gamboa, at the coming elections. However, Huerta, who invoked the name of God in the Legislature, determined to remain military dictator until order was restored.

Order was indeed sadly lacking.

A man destined to play a conspicuous part, Venustiano Carranza, governor of Coahuila, had raised an army. Ambition led him further than he intended and, like Pilate, drove him to cruelty. Under pretext of restoring law and order, on March 26, 1913, he drew up a declaration refusing to acknowledge Huerta as president and marched against him.

Carranza soon found an ally in the bandit Villa, who had recruited an army in the north and was supported by President Wilson, who supplied him with arms.

The tactics of the two insurgents were barbarous. In their southward march they laid everything waste. In January, Durango fell into their hands. On July 8, Guadalajara was stormed. Their prearranged plan was to seize power by undermining the influence of Catholics, whom they accused of favoring Huerta. They tortured prisoners, looted property, imprisoned the wealthy, and assassinated the leaders captured in battle.

On August 20, Carranza entered Mexico City, Huerta having abdicated on July 15. The reign of terror had come to stay.

The invading army carried banners bearing the words:

Liberty was to be dearly paid by the Mexican people. It required sixty thousand soldiers to implant it. The city police were discharged, judges were dismissed. The well-to-do were arrested, found guilty as a matter of course, and shot.

But the main attack was against the clergy. On July 16, the bishops had issued a joint letter protesting against the violence of the victors. What better pretext to charge them with being the enemies of order!

The anti-religious program was carried out with sacrilegious ruthlessness. Soldiers broke into churches, scattered the hosts on the pavement, and proceeded to dance. Sometimes they fired at the crucifix, the tabernacle, and once even at the monstrance during exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. Villa boasted of having nailed a priest in a coffin and let him starve to death.

Orders posted on the city walls commanded priests to close Catholic schools. Thirty priests who refused were cast into prison. Religious were banished, Catholic papers suppressed, St. Bridget's church was turned into a stable.

The revolutionary movement fostered by Carranza's new officials spread thoughout the provinces.

Meanwhile Miguel was in peaceful seclusion. After two years' novitiate, he took his first vows on August 15, 1913. The celebration was private. We know through Roberto that for three years Miguel was unable to see his family. To venture on roads infested with troops was unwise.

After his vows, Miguel entered upon the long course of studies which the Society of Jesus prescribes for its members. Life was by no means reposeful, nor was the atmosphere conducive to quiet study. News suddenly came that his father, reduced to penury, had to save his life by flight, and that his invalid mother had set out for Guadalajara.

Putting his whole trust in Providence, he set resolutely to work. Three months elapsed. The only professor in the house broke down. Miguel, a born organizer, was appointed to replace him, or at least to keep the pupils busy for two months. Meanwhile he was beginning to suffer from stomach trouble, which he concealed from all by his unfailing cheerfulness.

The school year closed somehow or other, but the situation was fast becoming intolerable.

In Exile

By July 1914, Carranza's forces had penetrated into the State of Michoacan. The town of Zamora, at no great distance from El Llano, fell into their hands. The “liberators'” program was so well known that the superiors determined to abandon the novitiate. On August 15, feast of Our Lady's Assumption, the novices dispersed in groups to the neighboring towns or to friendly homes.

Miguel remained hidden in the town for a few days, and at nightfall on August 29, disguised as a peasant and accompanied by a fellow novice, he passed through the insurgents who crowded the roads.

The next day, three other novices joined them, and all five cautiously threaded their way towards Guadalajara. For three days they trudged along, occasionally seeking shelter in the woods to evade the soldiers.

On September 2, Miguel, disguised as a servant and, shouldering his brethren's traps, marched into town. Thirteen of his companions were there already. His good humor raised their spirits while he had to bear up more than all, for he found his mother, brothers, and young sister reduced to extreme poverty. His inability to relieve them added to the grief of his generous heart.

What he had he gave: his time and his heart. Every day he went over to his comrades, taking them for a walk or leading them to some secluded nook where he provided an amusement of his own. To the accompaniment of a guitar, he would sing extemporaneous verses, and the saddest faces lit up.

One morning they attended Mass in a certain house; on the morrow, in another, for after September 15, a new companion joined them, a priest who was moved to enter the Society of Jesus on witnessing the courage of the young novices.

How Miguel longed to be a priest! Meanwhile be did his utmost to comfort the afflicted. Hearing that an old woman was dying without any one to attend her, he went to her house and spent the whole night at her bedside, praying and helping her to pray. She died kissing the crucifix which he held to her lips.

At the end of a month, the order came to cross the boundary. It was a hard blow for Miguel and his mother, but both were inured to suffering.

A Mexican Father who was then Miguel's companion told me how deeply he had been impressed by Mrs. Pro's spirit of faith. He went to see her in a house where she had found shelter. She showed him hanging on the wall, in the place of honor, a picture of the Sacred Heart—all she had brought from Saltillo:

The exodus was set for October 2, the First Friday of the month. After High Mass and benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, the community dispersed in groups. Mrs. Pro went to the station with her children to bid farewell to the son whom she was to see no more.

The fourteen exiles settled at Los Gatos, California, in a house already full of American novices. To lodge them all was a feat of ingenuity.

The newcomers were soon deep in study. They gathered round a table in the library, but there was a shortage of books: only one Spanish grammar for the party! After trying this plan for a time, they moved up to the fourth story, the same hall doing duty both as classroom and dormitory.

Miguel's good humor stood unruffled, meeting every trial with a cheery word.

While out walking he would teach catechism to poor boys—in broken English.

Once he fell in with a large family of gypsies. He made friends with the children, told them stories, and then gave them a heart-to-heart talk on religion, closing the conference with an allround distribution of candy.

Thus passed the year.

Was there any hope of re-entering Mexico? The political situation looked anything but encouraging.

From September 1914, Mexico was the scene of unrelenting strife between dictators, each one in turn looting the city.

The friendship between Carranza and Villa was soon at an end. Villa, who had raised his ally to the forefront, thought he was himself entitled to the presidency.

In the south, another general, Zapata, was claiming land for the poor shepherds (peones) whom he had stirred to revolt.

By September 25, the break between the three pretenders was well known. Villa marched northward plundering treasures which he exchanged at the frontier for American arms. He was soon at the head of 30,000 men. Carranza, seeing him move towards Mexico City, fell back on Vera Cruz, from which he extorted money. In January 1915, he again managed to take the field. Supported by the famous General Obregon, he defeated Zapata at Puebla, forced Villa to retreat as far as Guadalajara, and re-entered Mexico City to begin his work, posing as a radical socialist. Away with the priests, to begin with! Obregon shot down Catholics who had gathered to protest.

Carranza held out in Mexico City till October 19, when the United States recognized him as lawful dictator. Wilson protected him and kept Huerta a prisoner at El Paso. At his death on January 13, 1916, Huerta pardoned him whom he considered the greatest enemy of his country.

Carranza gradually won out, thanks to the hundred thousand rifles and fifty million cartridges graciously supplied by President Wilson.

In December 1916, he was declared president by a sham election in which two percent of the population—the President's friends—voted. On May 1st, he entered office and lost no time in enacting the famous “Queretaro” constitution (February 5, 1917).

It is a series of insults to justice, human and divine:

In His Study: Photo taken the year of his Ordination

These laws were rigorously enforced. Eleven archbishops and bishops were deported to the United States; two to Cuba; others to Europe. Hundreds of religious and priests were banished. Two thousand Catholic schools were closed.

The time being ill suited to open a college in Mexico, Miguel's superiors decided to send their students to Spain.

The latter—sixteen in all—left California on June 21, 1915. One of the party has supplied us with notes on the trip.

They stopped first at El Paso, then at New Orleans, where they took a day’s rest. The train was stifling, and they had no food but bread and cheese. Conspicuous in their outlandish garb, they were a target for jokes. What of it? Miguel was there, and they made fun of everything. By rapid stages they reached Key West, Florida. At Havana they experienced an unpleasant hold up. The student in charge of tickets and money went on ahead, oblivious of his companions. The poor travellers, bashful as novices, were arrested and cooped up in a corner of the custom house where they remained four hours awaiting developments. Set upon by reporters, they explained the situation as best they could. The following day the incident, duly enlivened, went round the city.

They boarded the Buenos Ayres for New York, whence they sailed for Cádiz. At the end of July they reached Grenada, where Miguel was to spend five years studying rhetoric and philosophy.

To live in a foreign country, even with genial hosts, is always trying. If only letters brought good news from home! But reports from Mexico were growing daily more alarming. Miguel, more concerned than any on account of his family in distress, forgot his own anxieties to cheer his compatriots. If one of them seemed despondent, he went to his room, made him laugh for a good half hour, and took leave with an apology for disturbing him.

He had ingenious ways of entertaining. One day he proposed a picnic. Permission was hard to obtain. However, he began by sending out invitations and preparing provisions. All were jubilant at the mere prospect of an outing.

When everything was ready, he got his party together and said with an air of deep concern:

Loudly they protested but were reassured when he himself undertook to secure permission from the Rector.

The Rector let them go alone.

Miguel was a gifted caricaturist. On entering the novitiate, he was appointed to illustrate the programs of private festivities. He saw the funny side of men and things and instantly hit it off.

His talent, however, was not confined to the ludicrous. For a whole year, he drew the pictures required to exemplify the biology course. The sketches were chalked on the black-board, and vain glory faded away together with the masterpieces.

He practiced charity to a degree at times heroic. During an epidemic of “Spanish Flu,” half the community of over 125 were laid up. Whoever tended the sick was liable to be stricken. Miguel was one of the first to offer his services, but his health being poor the superior refused. However, he finally yielded to Miguel's natural eloquence. Day and night, the [error:latter]{.label}latter spent himself for fifteen days. Confined in a separate wing, he lived apart from the community. When he espied his companions passing by his window, he would merrily beckon them to come in, and pretend to play the mandolin—his idea of supreme bliss. The invalids still remember his visits; he knew how to revive their drooping spirits. A born actor, he gave his stories such a comic turn that the most melancholy would cheer up.

College Where Miguel Was a Master

In the end he himself fell ill and had to take to his bed. His good humor stood the test, as if it were the very groundwork of his nature. But one of his superiors, who knew him well, asserts that his alacrity was prompted by the most deserving charity. He would often amuse others while enduring acute pains in the stomach. While they were still roaring, he would retire to bed racked with agony.

He completed his philosophy in 1920. What was he to do? Return to Mexico?

The government had changed hands, but for the worse. At the beginning of 1919, Carranza, it is true, had suddenly altered his tactics. Catholics grew hopeful; priests could re-enter; the bishops one after the other returned from exile. On December 27, 1918, a paper gave out that Catholics were to be granted freedom. Carranza himself admitted that the clauses in the constitution respecting religion were too rigorous.

This no doubt partly explains his fall; he was no longer the tool of the Revolution. His end was speedy and tragic. Obregon joined hands with the former governor of the State of Sonora, Calles, and declared war on the President, who had just announced elections. Carranza was killed with his son in a street fight.

During the summer of 1920, Obregon prepared the autumn elections. The future was too uncertain to open colleges in Mexico.

Miguel was sent to Granada, Nicaragua, in Central America, where the Mexican Jesuits conducted a day school. That year they decided to take boarders. Everything had to be organized to receive pupils of all ages, who had no idea of life in a boarding school.

For two years Miguel took charge, first of the juniors, then of the seniors. The heat in Nicaragua is unbearable, especially at certain seasons of the year. Games naturally flag; it is hard enough to keep alive!

Yet Miguel strove to galvanize his boys. He organized sports and got up raffles, the proceeds of which went to purchase new games. He also preached by example. At one o'clock every day, under a broiling sun, he began to play and jump to rouse the laggards. Strange that no protest came from his delicate stomach!

The Strenuous Master Drilling His Boys at Granada, Nicaragua

Although at times ailing himself, he would at once offer to replace an overworked companion.

The pupils spoke a peculiar dialect; Miguel mastered it in no time. Such thoughtfulness went to the children’s hearts. The Father who replaced him remarked that Miguel's pupils often spoke of his devotedness, good humor, and self-denial.

In 1922, he returned to Spain without passing through Mexico City, where his relatives lived.

The gloomy outlook could not overcloud his sunny disposition. During the crossing, he noticed a poor Chinaman who was writhing in an agony of pain. Miguel came up to him and, with the coolness of a professional, examined the inside of his eyelids, felt his pulse, and looked at his tongue. The would-be doctor unhesitatingly prescribed a good dose of castor oil. It had no effect. Quite naturally, as if he expected more trouble, he ordered a second dose. No result. He ordered a third.

The following morning our Chinaman was pacing the deck with a celestial smile, declaring that he was thoroughly cured. He spoke to everybody about the wonderful doctor he had met.

Miguel spent two years in Spain, near Barcelona, at the Colegio Máximo de San Ignacio, Sarriá. In the vicinity is Manresa, so dear to the sons of St. Ignatius. There the founder of the Society of Jesus first made his famous Spiritual Exercises. There also, in 1924, Miguel had the happiness of making his annual retreat during Holy Week. His three companions noted with what fervor he prayed in the [Santa Cueva]{.spanish}.

In September 1924, he was at Enghien (Belgium) with the French Jesuits. Thirteen nations were represented. Miguel was soon at home with all of them, for he could speak all their languages. Grammatical niceties did not trouble him; when words failed, his gestures and the play of his features completed the thought which he usually rounded off with a pleasant remark.

At Enghien as in Spain, cheerfulness cost a struggle with ever-increasing stomach pains. It was easy to guess from what source sprang such meritorious charity.

At the beginning of January 1925, Father Raoul Plus gave a series of lectures at Enghien on “the gift of oneself to God and souls.” The doctrine of God's presence in us through grace, so admirably expounded by Father Plus, made a deep impression on Miguel. He would sometimes allude to that appealing thought.

A friend who knew that he was a prey to insomnia wondered how he could always look happy and rested.

He was often seen kneeling in the chapel, his eyes on the Tabernacle. The great day was at hand, about to crown the wish of his life.

First Fruits

He was ordained on August 31, 1925, by Bishop Lecomte. After the ceremony the new priests were greeted by their relatives. Father Pro would have wished to bring down his first blessing on his mother’s head. He felt sad, but raising his thoughts:

Far from his own, but close to God, he repeated throughout the day a prayer which was to be wonderfully fulfilled. Later on he said to a friend:

The grace of the priesthood was daily expanding his soul. Every Mass transformed him. He no longer felt the same. A few months after his ordination, he wrote to a Mexican co-novice, Benjamin C., who was to be ordained during the summer of 1926.

Yesterday I received your post card announcing the glad news of your early promotion to the priesthood. Thank you for such good news, and thank God for so great a benefit.

My dear little Father C., if instead of scribbling a letter I could chat with you for half an hour, I would tell you what a comfort it was to be officially informed that you are going up to the altar. I am in the habit of joking, but today I wish to speak to you in all sincerity. For nearly a year I have had the happiness of going up to the altar—a happiness which has nothing of the earthly, but is lofty, spiritual and divine.

Rid yourself for ever of the old Benjamin. Willing or not, you will undergo a radical transformation. The Holy Ghost will give Himself to you in a special way on the day of your ordination. He will destroy what is too human in your poor earthly heart. You will yourself be astonished to see the change—in melius—in that poor human nature which plays us such ugly turns—a change not only in the main lines of your new life but in the minute details of your daily life.

Solà Cômo, a Mexican priest, on the day of his first Mass; his little sister is receiving First Communion from him. This zealous priest did untold good, in a quiet way, among Mexican Catholics. The agents of Calles identified him by means of the above photo. He was shot on April 25, 1927, as he uttered the words: “For Thy Cause I die, O Lord!”

Have I the same will? Is my way of thinking, judging, deciding, the same? Are the ideals of holiness cherished during the long years of my religious life really the same?

My dear little Father Benjamin, if you trust the experience of a poor miner, be sure that you will no longer be tomorrow what you are today.

There is something in me which I had never felt before and which makes me understand things quite differently. It is not the fruit of study, nor of our more or less robust holiness, nor of anything personal and human. It is due to the priestly character which the Holy Ghost impresses on our souls.

It is a closer participation in divine life, elevating and deifying us; a greater strength to make us accomplish desires and aspirations hitherto beyond our power.

This change, however, was unfelt until I came in touch with souls. False humility aside, let me throw open my poor brotherly heart. During my theology, in one way or another I was engaged for nearly six months in mission work. Our Lord was pleased to use me as an instrument to do good. How many souls I comforted! How many sorrows I soothed! With what courage I inspired men to tread the narrow way! Two shaky vocations were confirmed. A student intending to quit the seminary renewed his resolve to do the will of God.

All that was evidently not my work. I have only to consider my way of acting, my temperament, my inclinations and studies. At times, I meant to say: black, and I said white, when white was the right thing to say.

Can I boast of my natural gifts when they would obviously have been without effect?

Whatever good I have done is clearly due to the grace of the priesthood, to the guidance of the Holy Ghost, to something above nature. I had not felt that before my ordination.

See, I am a ready pulpit speaker and give lessons to my betters. But out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh, and I am overwhelmed with the graces which the Lord has lavished on me since the happy day of my ordination. I can but repeat with the Prophet: De stercore erigens pauperem, ut collocet eum cum principibus populi sui…

You are about to receive the same grace as I did. My joy on hearing that induced me to scribble this wretched letter, without plan or order, but with intense satisfaction.

Goodbye! The Lord bless you! Not a single day have I forgotten you at Mass, and be sure that I will henceforth bear you specially in mind to thank God and obtain that your preparation be the worthiest…

Your brother in the Heart of Jesus,

Your little Miguel.

During September, the new priests did a little mission work. Father Pro, being far from home, obtained leave to visit his friends, the toilers in the mines. At Charleroi, he went down with them into the pit. On ascending, he refused a shower bath in order to mix more easily with the miners on their way home.

In Belgium, workmen travel in special coaches reserved for them. Many of them being socialists, it would require a daring priest to venture in with them. Father Pro did venture in by a pretended misunderstanding. The reception was anything but encouraging. Surprised at the priest's boldness, the miners remained silent.

Suddenly one of them, who was busy eating, put a question to intimidate the unwelcome visitor.

The workman, finding no answer, evaded the issue by saying:

The workman, quite taken back by such composure, looked at his companions wondering what to do.

The conversation began again:

The workmen eyed one another, astounded at such an extraordinary priest.

The Father then drew a crucifix from his pocket and pointing to it, said:

And he explained the love of Jesus Christ for workmen.

A workman got off at the first station, bought a chocolate bar, and shared it with the Father. Before separating, they all shook hands with him.

On retiring to his cell that night, the young priest must have realized that God had heard the prayer of his ordination day, when he asked to be useful to souls.

But before coming into closer touch with them, he was to sow the seed of his future harvest in a trial dreaded by the most ardent apostles: illness and separation from his brethren. The trial lasted four months.

In November, his fits of stomach trouble became more frequent. The doctors ordered an operation. Unmoved, he said to a group of friends:

To the Spiritual Father who advised him to undergo the operation, he replied:

It was an old friend…

An operation, while successful, may lead to complications. Father Pro suffered much; no one would have guessed it, however. The attending sister was always convulsed with laughter, and the friends who came enjoyed a pleasant visit.

The second operation was more painful; it had to be performed without chloroform and was followed by excruciating pains. Every particle of food burned the stomach.

Recovery was far from complete. In January, a third operation was mooted. The future appeared no brighter than the present, but the invalid uttered no complaint. Insomnia enabled him to spend almost whole nights in prayer.

From Mexico nothing was forthcoming but distressing news. Calles had embarked on his career of cruelty to the Church and to Catholics.

Father Pro was alone with his anxieties. All he knew of his family was that his mother was very unwell. He had always been in close touch with her. Well informed, she often wrote to her dear Miguel. Just before the third operation, he received this short note from her:

Nor did she see him again. She died on February 8, 1926, a few days after the farewell note. Father Pro was ready for the trial. He offered it on behalf of souls, the dear souls for whom he had prayed on the day of his ordination.

Invalids are naturally selfish; at times the most virtuous are no longer themselves. To think of others in illness calls for extraordinary holiness.

Father Pro thought only of others.

The third operation did not complete his cure, and he remained weak through loss of appetite. The air of the Mediterranean, it was thought, would more speedily restore his health. He resided till June in Provence, in a house kept by Franciscan nuns.

There he underwent treatment while time bore heavily upon him. One of his Mexican companions studying in Spain inquired if he wanted anything. He replied (April 20, 1926):

Then after giving the list of drugs he has to take every day, he concluded:

The apostle could not brook inactivity. When able to walk, he went over the town in quest of souls to lead Godward. These rambles scored a distinct success, which he ascribed to his mother’s intercession: “She is in heaven,” said he, “cooperating with me to save souls.”

He was convinced that she already enjoyed the reward of her virtues. One day he exclaimed with deep conviction:

His zeal was undeterred by anything or anybody. Once he spent a whole afternoon chatting with an antiquarian and taking an interest in his knicknacks, so that he might, towards evening, broach the subject of religion. Another time he was induced, on a false report, to visit a man supposed to be dying. The latter was tremendously alive and prepared to belabor the bold intruder who sought to win him over with kind words. Father Pro chuckled as he made good his escape.

He had more success with a young man who had the reputation of being an uncompromising anti-clerical. His aversion to the clergy arose from the fact that when a student he had been unjustly expelled from school. By dint of kindness, sweets, and cigarettes, Father Pro coaxed him to tell his story. He then instructed him and at the end of a month got him to make his First Communion.

He spent himself lovingly when he met souls to save, above all the simple souls of the poor. One day he passed near a station where workmen were pouring in to catch the train. He gazed at them wistfully and said to his companion pointing to the procession in overalls:

In a long letter to his friends in Spain he related a visit to some famous villas whose inmates led a lordly life. He was not interested and ended his letter with the remark:

In the course of June, he received an order from his Provincial recalling him to Mexico.

His health was still very weak, but the prospect of laboring among his own in danger overshadowed his illness. He set out for Northern France by way of Lourdes. A long night in the train, and at morning he knelt before the miraculous Virgin. In a few weeks, thought he, he would likewise be at the feet of the Virgin of Guadalupe, ere he undertook the tremendous task of ministering to his persecuted brethren.

That night, on taking the train for Paris, he wrote:

At the end of June he sailed for Mexico.

In The Tempest

The situation of Catholics in Mexico was deplorable. It is necessary to realize their difficulties in order to appreciate the task confronting Father Pro.

While Obregon was president (1920–24), Catholics had some respite. The soldier whose career was to end so sadly had apparently only two objectives in view: power and money. Whatever did not conflict therewith he tolerated.

The Catholic Association of Mexican Youth [Associaciòn Catholica de Jovenes Mexicanos, or A.C.J.M.] made enormous strides from 1920 on. Social questions were debated in their clubs, and the membership rose steadily. Children were enlisted by thousands in the Eucharistic League.

Things were going well, rather too well.

On May 12, 1921, Government troops entered a church at Morelia and proceeded to eject the faithful. A few members of the A.C.J.M. were killed. In November an attempt was made to dynamite the church of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

The first act of the drama had begun; the famous Constitution framed by Carranza, then mitigated by him, was rigorously applied. The supply of priests began to fail.

In 1923 an incident showed that hostilities had not ceased. Nine years before, in July 1914, the bishops had bound themselves to erect a national church in honor of the Sacred Heart in the very centre of Mexico. In 1923, they considered that the time had come to fulfil their promise. They chose Mount Cubile as a suitable spot to raise a statue to Christ—the church was to be built in better times. The Papal delegate, Mgr. Filippi, laid the corner stone in the presence of fourteen bishops and over seventy thousand Mexicans from all over the country.

So widespread was the enthusiasm that the authorities could do nothing to prevent the ceremony. Out of spite they insulted the bishops, expelled the delegate, and forced a number of priests out of their churches.

But the Catholics, better organized than ever, had no intention of tamely submitting. In the autumn of 1924, they determined to hold a great national Eucharistic Congress in Mexico City itself. Faith was rekindled in many hearts; the weakest were roused. The streets were beflagged as for the coming of a king. On the appointed day the bishops entered the cathedral amid a concourse of several thousand citizens. An eight-foot monstrance studded with diamonds, called the “Monstrance of National Reparation,” was set up in atonement for the outrages done to the Eucharistic Lord during the last ten years of terror.

Obregon had given the bishops the required authorization. The wife of the Minister of Finance had even put hangings over the windows of her house to do honor to the passing Host. Suddenly Obregon changed his mind. At the instigation of Freemasons enraged by such demonstrations of faith, he declared with feigned indignation that Catholics had violated the constitution.

But his term was ending, as the Constitution of Queretaro provides that no president shall reign more than four years.

On July 6, 1924, elections were held, and Plutarco Elias Calles, former governor of the State of Sonora, was elected.

The latter's success is readily explained. There were two candidates in the field: Flores, the people’s friend, and Calles, whom Obregon favored. The contest was unequal. Calles could rely on the soldiers of the retiring president and on the arms supplied by his American friends.

The name of Calles, like that of Nero, will go down to posterity. Nero betrayed his noble blood—the only crime beyond the power of Calles to commit. As a schoolmaster in a little village, Calles had formerly been noted for his cruelty and intemperance. Brazenness and the support of wicked men in quest of an executioner carried him to power, where he maintained himself by craft and bloodshed.

Like Nero also, this successful bully began well. After his election, he went to Europe, where the heads of the great republics, unaware, or feigning to be unaware, of Mexico's true history, received him with great honor.

On his return, he preserved a sphynxlike silence for two months, inducing Catholics to think that an era of peace had set in.

At the beginning of 1925, they were rudely undeceived. Calles' dream was to ape the French Revolution and to follow in the footsteps of Russia. He resolved at any cost to rid his country of religious superstition. He closed Catholic schools, depriving children of education. Priests were practically unable to exercise their ministry.

Calles himself took charge of the all-round reformation. In one of his first messages to the nation, he proclaimed that “he would light up as with a torch the darkest recesses of the Mexican mountains.”

The illumination began in earnest in 1926. Foreign priests were ordered out of the country. The others were told to accept the atheistic Constitution of 1917. The Archbishop of Mexico City protested. On February 4, he was brought to court as a traitor to his country. Everywhere nuns were turned out of their convents amid scenes of unspeakable barbarism.

In the procession organized by the Government to celebrate carnival, appeared Calles' own daughter, who—be it said without disparaging her father's memory—had been educated at the convent of the Sisters of Our Lady of Peace.

She was proclaimed “Goddess of Mexico” in the streets of the Capital. Mock processions were organized. Soldiers dressed like monks marched with disorderly women, shouting foul words.

Catholics did not stand silent spectators of such infamy. They protested vigorously. On one occasion, Calles received a voluminous bundle containing two million signatures. The Knights of Columbus had leaflets printed, which were distributed by members of the A.C.J.M.

But Calles was obdurate. On March 5, 1926, he made this declaration: “So long as I am president, the Constitution of 1917 shall remain in force.”

On April 3, he added:

The press agencies of the world were apparently in ignorance of the atrocities of the Mexican Government.

A few voices here and there were raised in protest. The Pope and the Mexican bishops branded Calles as a tyrant and bade his victims take courage.

In March 1926, Pius XI wrote to the Mexican Catholics, endorsing the bishops' protestation against the Constitution of 1917. He asked all Catholic organizations to join in the struggle while eschewing politics.

A month later the bishops reaffirmed the Pope's wishes in a splendid pastoral. They fearlessly demanded the reform of the Constitution.

Calles was cruel in his retort.

In the first days of July 1926, he promulgated a new law in thirty-three articles, outdoing the anti-religious clauses of 1917.

The thirty-three articles were posted up at the door of all the churches, to become effective on July 31, 1926.

Calles received a gold medal from the [Freemasonic] Lodges with their congratulations. He was striking at the heart of Mexican Catholicism, and the bishops realized that the people had to be thoroughly roused.

Humberto, of the A.C.J.M. Shot, November 23, 1927 (aged 24). Roberto. Exiled by Calles (aged 23). Miguel. Shot, November 23, 1927 (aged 36).

Six days before the baleful laws become effective, the eight archbishops and twenty-eight bishops pronounced excommunication against all who took part in carrying out the new laws.

Father Pro arrived in time to share in the passion of his country.

It seemed as if everything had conspired to let him in.

On reaching home, he found his father, his sister Ana Maria, and his young brother Roberto. Humberto, who had displayed too much zeal in religious propaganda, was in prison. Father Pro, after many unsuccessful attempts, managed to gain admittance to him. Seventeen months later they were again united in martyrdom.

Father Pro started at once on his apostolic career. “Still half dazed by the trip, I began an uninterrupted series of missions among the inhabitants of the Capital, who, thank God, gave me work day and night and will apparently not let me finish this letter. I have been interrupted three times. I do not mention the outburst of faith provoked by the closing of churches. You have no doubt heard all about it through other sources.” (November 13, 1926.)

He was alluding to the effect produced by the bishops’ pastoral.

Hardly had the bishops spoken when a wave of enthusiasm swept over the country. Churches filled; the faithful poured in from all sides, anxious to receive a last absolution and attend the last Mass. Ladies walked barefooted alongside of their poorer sisters, while the hills re-echoed their penitential hymns…

Lord, why didst Thou depart?

Then came the mournful day, July 31. What feelings it must have stirred in the young Jesuit! It was the feast of St. Ignatius of Loyola. On that day, he celebrated his last public Mass.

Everywhere the Blessed Sacrament was removed from ciboriums, tabernacles were vacated, sanctuary lamps extinguished, bells hushed. The atmosphere of the catacombs settled down, sadness spread over the unfortunate land; Mexico's long Good Friday had begun.

Months passed and the temples remained empty. To be unable to speak of God in His own house weighed on Father Pro's apostolic heart.

Mass had to be celebrated secretly, in private houses. Stealthily ciboriums were filled, and the Host borne by heroic priests continued to fortify souls.

Father Pro gives an idea of the work thus accomplished:

In another letter, he added:

After laboring for three months, he gave his Provincial an account of his ministrations.

Amid his apostolic labors, Father Pro often thought of his final examination in theology, still to be undergone. Until the very end, he tried to snatch spare moments to prepare it. Submitting, however, to the wish of his superior, he wrote:

Calles was dealing with men who meant to defend themselves. He needed a whole army of bandits to cope with the Catholic reaction.

The League for the Defense of Religious Liberty struck the Government in a vital spot by organizing a nation-wide strike, to become effective on July 31. It consisted in Catholics binding themselves to confine their purchases to bare necessaries and to withdraw whatever money they had in the banks.

Factories under anti-clerical control suddenly lost their customers. In less than a month twenty-seven million pesos were withdrawn from the banks and transferred abroad. Cafés were practically deserted.

The friends of Calles lost heart. In October the Minister of Finance, Pani, resigned. The President would not give in. Nor would the Catholics. When he imprisoned the suspected leaders of the movement, others replaced them. He closed printing establishments which worked against him or which he suspected of doing so. From cellars issued leaflets printed during the night by fearless youths.

On one of these leaflets it was stated that the Communist Calles, the friend of the poor, owned an immense rural property and that he had built for himself a luxurious train costing a million pesos.

Calles was incensed. On September 1, at the opening of Congress, he announced that he had already closed 129 Catholic colleges, 42 churches, chapels, and benevolent institutions and promised to continue.

Fancy his indignation when Catholics spread leaflets like the following:

Father Pro always had his pockets full of leaflets. He was once arrested in front of the house where he resided and was compelled to get into an auto. He sat near the chauffeur, who was ordered to drive him to the Police Commissioner's. Before getting there he had to empty his pockets at all costs. Engaging the driver in conversation he quietly dropped the leaflets as he went along.

Specimen of Propaganda Stamps. On this stamp are the words: “Calles, Christ has overcome stronger men than you!”

The propagandists were watched. When caught, they were shot. The martyrdom of two youths, Manuel Melgarejo and Joaquin de Silva Cordoba, shocked the Catholic world. General Zepeda, a secret partisan of Calles, questioned them on their religious ideas. They were arrested and shot, their last words being: “Long live Christ the King!”

But the people were not cowed by this reign of terror. In a single pilgrimage, fifty thousand pilgrims repaired to Our Lady of Guadalupe on October 12. The feast of Christ the King saw over two hundred thousand gathered there.

Father Pro attended the celebration which he thus narrated to his friends:

Yours in Domino

El Barretero (The Miner)

The Catholics rose to the occasion. Debarred from teaching in schools, they organized itinerant catechists, who travelled over the country. By mid-October, 397 catechists in thirty-two districts reached nearly 11,000 children. The priests had to train the laity, especially the members of the A.C.J.M. Father Pro himself received them in several places. Although he was in hiding, the initiated knew where to find him.

Calles had much ado to maintain his stand. On October 19, the Tampico Bank failed; on the following day, the English Bank. The Chambers of Commerce, in dismay, confessed their inability to meet the situation. Calles dissolved them.

But the treasury was empty. In December the situation grew desperate; insurrections broke out everywhere; the pesos lost half its value. Calles held the priests responsible for all the troubles. At his wits' end, he sought to bribe them. He asked them to form a Mexican National Church, independent of Rome, promising to restore religious buildings and part of the Church property.

They refused flatly.

Calles, in high dudgeon, re-enacted the laws of July 31, and prohibited the spreading of leaflets, even handwritten.

A Minister of the Calles cabinet, Morones, speaking in Congress, advised the people to kill all the priests. Meanwhile priests and bishops were deported or imprisoned.

Such a sad condition whetted his zeal and spurred him on to action.

This recalls the shower of roses promised by the Little Flower before dying!

At times the goal seemed within reach. In December 1926, he was imprisoned but managed to escape. He had no intention of throwing his life away. So many poor people needed him!

The Friend Of The Poor

His heart went out to the poor who claimed most of his time. All things to all men, he had his own way of carrying out the Pauline words:

The poor are really his own. By February 1927, he had a powerful organization for their relief.

Strangers unsolicited anticipated his wants:

Father Pro labored all day and openly for his poor; then he worked far into the night, foreseeing the needs of the morrow, receiving people in want or young men under his guidance.

His poor grew daily in numbers, requiring abundant alms to feed and lodge them. He had not a moment's respite.

Now understand that this is history.

A month before his execution he gave one of his cousins a detailed account of his charitable works.

His task was no sinecure. He spent part of his days begging and was at pains to fill his bags.

Father Pro spent the last months of his life at the house of a very charitable woman, Mrs. J. Montes de Oca. Arrested at the same time as the Father, she was imprisoned and, after his death, deported to the United States. We owe her several particulars illustrating the apostle's charity.

The House of Mrs. Montes de Oca. Altar on which Father Pro said mass during the last months of his life.

He would come to the house late at night and depart before daybreak. On Sundays he took but two or three hours' rest.

On one occasion, when he arrived the hostess had hardly anything to offer him. The Government agents had made a raid and a clean sweep. He accepted some candy and went away laughing.

He was often seen in the streets of Mexico lugging large bags of flour on his back. For the poor and the sick he was ready to face ridicule. Once he carried in his arms six live chickens and a turkey. On returning for dinner he made the funniest and most significant gestures: the excited birds had shared their lice with him.

Another time, with six chickens he boldly boarded a bus, his usual presence of mind passing them off with a joke.

His noblest act of charity was no doubt the one mentioned in a letter written a month before his death (October 26.)

He often found babies abandoned by their penniless or heartless parents and carried them to the foundling hospital.

All Things To All Men

If Father Pro had pity on the multitude and could not see the wretched without relieving them, it was not out of mere kindness: he had an end in view. He found his way into men's hearts and then sought to uplift their souls.

His inborn cheerfulness comforted Catholics beggared by a father's exile or imprisonment. By word and example he made a lasting impression and conversions without number.

God was pleased to impart His gifts to an apostle who took no glory to himself. Father Pro could not but see what good he was doing, but with great simplicity attributed all to God.

His letters abound in allusions to St. Paul's gratia Dei mecum. He knows that what he does would be nothing without grace, so he forges ahead. He thus chronicles his apostolic work:

During the Chauffeurs' Retreat

The preacher was emboldened by his first success.

A group of women invited their friends to make a retreat. The exercises were given in various houses throughout the town, a ticket being required for admittance. In the evening the preacher announced when the meeting was to be held next day.

During the Women's Retreat.

The meeting opened with the recitation of the rosary; the Father then preached. Seated in an arm-chair, near an improvised altar, and wearing a fashionable suit, with a flower in his lapel, he spoke unpurturbed by the soldiers at his heels. After the sermon, a short meditation followed by a light lunch presided over by the preacher.

The women then invited their husbands to do likewise. The meetings were held in the evening after the day's work, an admittance ticket being always exacted. One evening the congregation gathered in the sixth story of the large Espana Building, the men kneeling around type-writers to recite the rosary. Sermon. General Communion on closing day.

No one was afraid. Once, to quiet suspicion, Mass was said in a room opposite the Court House close to the Attorney General's offices!

Father Pro was an expert in this line of work.{The Monitor, a San Francisco paper, thus reported a meeting of former retreatants (May 12, 1928): “Father Pro was the first Jesuit martyr in Mexico and the first martyr of the retreat movement. The soldiers of Calles captured Father Pro while he was giving a retreat in Mexico City… And before his two hundred listeners, the lecturer, Michael Williams, a well known author in San Francisco, proposed to erect before their retreat house a statue of Father Pro, first martyr and an ardent promoter of retreats…”}

When a retreat was over, he would rush off to something else.

He lamented his inability to do more.

He was in demand everywhere.

He had hard cases to deal with.

He tried to give an account of his ministrations but hardly had time to note everything.

During the Miners' Retreat.

As to his health, he has no time to think of it. He alludes to it here and there in his letters but always in a bantering tone.

He preferred laboring among men.

It grieved the apostle to see people neglect their souls, but God afforded him sweet compensations.

Father Pro's labors were known to his superiors, who were also aware that the police had orders to arrest him. It was deemed advisable to make him take a rest. To sit with folded arms was an annoyance which he bore uncomplaining, but what a relief when set free again!

Gladly he returned to the perils of apostolic life. His last letter recording his occupations reveals him calm amid a swarm of spies.

He had celebrated Christ the King in 1926. On October 30, 1927, he described what had been done to enhance the celebration of the last feast of Christ the King which he was to spend on earth. The letter, written less than a month before his death, refers to events preceding the feast.

Among his audience were men who had associated with socialists; simple people who had been deceived by high-sounding words. They were reclaimed by the lecturer's pompous sentences.

His letter closes with a reference to his health:

However willing to labor, Father Pro was reluctant to live alone; he yearned for the cheering company of his brethren.

For the first time he uttered the word “discouragement”, but without insisting.

The apostle braced himself at the thought of the ending struggle; he yearned to be with Christ in heaven.

On Highways And Byways

No one more than Father Pro longed to be with Christ, but no one was more eager to battle until God's appointed hour.

He faced danger but extricated himself with consummate skill. He knew that the police had long been searching for him, and told how he foiled them for nearly a year.

The Prisoner is Informed that He is to be Shot.

He went to jail several times, but always managed to escape. Once he appealed to the sympathy of the jailor. Baring his chest, he showed the fresh scars caused by the three operations. The jailor was moved and let him go.

In December 1926, six hundred balloons were released to rain down propaganda leaflets in defense of religion. Calles, furious, ordered the arrest of the culprits, and Father Pro was imprisoned.

He left a detailed narrative of the incident.

On the Highways. Three months before his death. In the background, the President's Mansion.

Thereafter Father Pro had to act with circumspection. He was instructed to be cautious, not to stir even, at least for the time being.

Superiors sought to be prudent, but they knew that his ardent soul could not brook inactivity, and Father Pro returned to the fray.

The warrant of arrest had been issued since October 1926, but he relied on his shrewdness and on Providence to elude the detectives.

Several times he came near being caught.

Another amusing incident might have ended tragically.

Sometimes he made sport of those who were commissioned to arrest him. Two detectives once accosted him, thinking they had bagged their game. Father Pro greeted them so affably and entertained them so graciously that they began to have doubts… To reassure them completely, he brought them to one of the popular cafés, ordered a light lunch, and drank to their health.

It sometimes required no small presence of mind to find a way out.

Another time two policemen were at his heels. He realized that they would soon catch up to him. On turning a corner he saw a Catholic lady whom he knew. A wink and she understood. They began to walk slowly side by side, like two lovers…

Ten seconds after, the sleuths arrived. Look where they would, there was no Father Pro! Only two lovers pacing in tender converse…

All this occurred at the end of 1926. Father Pro extricated himself so successfully from every danger that he apprehended never being caught!

On entering a prison to visit the inmates, he said:

This letter was written on November 13, 1926. The warrant was to seek him for over a year.

Meanwhile he was not in hiding. He conducted all propaganda work and continued to spread leaflets in defense of religion. Little bills printed in the form of stamps were stuck everywhere, even on Calles' auto.

Father Pro once did a little propaganda in a tramway. He got on, sat down, and, unobserved, stuck a set of bills on his back. Then, like the innocent victim of a practical joke, he rose and demurely walked up and down, to let every one have a good look at the stamps…

In the spring of 1927, Calles ordered Father Pro's arrest at any cost.

He had to be ever on the alert. Houses were searched with increasing frequency, even the one in which the Pro family lived.

As a result of the three recent raids not even a spittoon is left… But as that article is not necessary to go to Heaven, we gave it up on easy terms.

The Martyr's Last Prayer

Thus Father Pro lost no opportunity of winning souls. For them he lived; for them he was soon to die.

“Where I Learned To Love Souls…”

Love of souls was the characteristic note of Father Pro's spiritual life. On the day of his ordination he asked Our Lord to be useful to souls. “But to do them good,” said he, “one must love them passionately…” That love grew daily in his soul and was soon to flower into the greatest proof of love—the sacrifice of one's life for the beloved.

While awaiting the signal for the supreme offering, he could not conceal the burning fire in his apostolic heart, nor its outburts in familiar conversation:

For them he ever sighed… To them he devoted every moment of his sacerdotal life.

How gently he dealt with generous souls confiding in him! The apostle “whom drunkards hobnobbed with, whom vendors winked at, whom the flower and cream of rascality took to their hearts” met many a chosen soul, often bearing heavy crosses. He treated them with a mother's tenderness for a sickly child. A shrewd guide, he made no cast-iron rules, nor did he impose his own will. He studied each individual soul and gently stimulated the work of grace.

He would question in order to see his way, but at the first sign of hesitation or uneasiness he would desist. Thenceforth he would speak of the matter only with God, His Father, Whom he ceased not to pray for “his sisters.”

One night he came in very late, without having recited his breviary. He was exhausted after long hours in the confessional. Suddenly the thought of a suffering “sister” came to his mind; he knelt down and said his office, offering his fatigue for her.

His was a selfless love. If some mark of affection was shown him, he would brush it aside. “I am ready,” said he, “to give my life for souls, but want nothing for myself. The one thing I want is to lead them to God. If I kept anything for myself, I should be a robber and a wretch; I should no longer be a priest.”

He once disclosed the secret of his love. Holding a picture of the Heart of Jesus, he exclaimed:

He insisted on purity of intention in an apostle's love. To an intimate associate he wrote:

Shortly before his death, he again referred to the source which fed his zeal:

He ended with a prayer—a splendid commentary on the words spoken to Our Lord by a father in distress: “I believe, Lord, help my unbelief.” “Heart of Jesus, I love Thee, but increase my love; Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee, but strengthen my hope; Heart of Jesus, I give Thee my heart, but sink it so deeply in Thine that it will never break away; Heart of Jesus, I am all Thine, but keep my promise that I may redeem it unto the utter sacrifice of my life.”

How wonderful that a life so full of distractions should, like Xavier's, be spent quite close to Our Lord!

To those who marvelled at his facility in treating of, and especially in performing, supernatural things, he revealed the secret of his heart:

When momentarily released from the care of souls, he naturally turned to prayer. His attitude was then more eloquent than any sermon.

Where I learned to love souls…

It was also in the heart of the Virgin Mary. Little has been said of Father Pro's great devotion to his heavenly Mother. This other source of his love for souls may be noted here.

Witnesses of his apostolic life remember a few burning words of his uttered in familiar conversation.

Speaking one day of temptations against purity, he said:

During May 1927, he urged his congregation to celebrate the month of Mary as well as possible, recalling his own experiences:

His “extraordinary” love for Mary, as a penitent calls it, sometimes waxed enthusiastic.

A few intimate letters to a Spanish Father disclose his inmost feelings.

The obliging friend had procured the necessary alms for him to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes before sailing for Mexico. In return, Father Pro gave his benefactor an account of the journey.

He writes a facetious letter, pretending to be angry with his friend whom he charges with harshness. “What! oblige a poor sickly Mexican to travel a whole night in a train! Father Pro will wreak vengeance on you at the feet of the Virgin of Lourdes.” “You will repay me,” said he. “I will accuse you of abusing an innocent Mexican, and demand confinement in a cell whence you cannot escape. Here is what I shall say to Our Lady of Lourdes:

Father Pro was naturally cheerful. His letters were generally written in a bantering tone, even when dealing with serious matters.

This time, however, he was so deeply moved that his letters reflected unwonted gravity:

These few lines, hastily scribbled on a card, were the outline, as it were, of the long letter which he wrote from Paris on the following day.

Now I can truly say with Simeon: Nunc dimittis! I can set out for another world, not the one which our ancestors called the Indies, but the real other world—Heaven.

Weak and unfit as I am, I may have made a mess of it; I may have been unwise in spending two nights in a train without sleep or food, but I will always maintain that yesterday was one of the happiest days in my life.

Reaching Lourdes at 8.45 A.M., I at once experienced our Mother's tender care. I met the Bishop's secretary in the street and presented my papers. He gave me leave to celebrate Holy Mass. The last Mass was ending at the main altar in the Basilica. I began mine at 9; it lasted longer than usual, the memento containing a long list of families for whom I had to pray…

I then went to the grotto—a vista of Heaven, where I beheld the Virgin who flooded my soul with boundless joy, intense consolation, Divine bliss. All was deeply but unutterably felt. Poor, unlucky Pro saw nothing, heard nothing, was unaware of what thousands of pilgrims were doing around him. Once, however, on looking up to contemplate my good Mother, I espied a sick woman lying in a carriage; she was reciting the rosary with outstretched arms. I was stirred to the depths by such faith and confidence. My heart was aflame, and I spoke tender words to our most holy Mother, who, without any cooperation on my part, made me experience raptures hitherto unknown. How could I remain so long kneeling, I who am usually exhausted after being five minutes on my knees? I do not know. Do not ask me what I did or said; I do not know. Yesterday I was no longer my wretched self.

A priest approached and said: “If you persist in remaining here, you will drop with fatigue; I would advise you to go to the spring where it is shady.” Why did he say that? What appearance did I present? Once more I do not know. I only know that I was at my Mother's feet and had a keen sense of her presence and action. Near the spring, I saw hundreds of poor invalids in quest of health. A Capuchin preached after each decade of the rosary. I did like the others; I sang, prayed, kissed the ground. With outstretched arms I invoked the Blessed Virgin… At 4.50 P.M., I left by train.

So I have been to Lourdes… I did not visit the Calvary; I did not see the Gave; I could not describe the shape of the Basilica nor what it contains. Yet I truly went to Lourdes. For me, going to Lourdes meant meeting my heavenly Mother, speaking to her, praying to her. I met her, spoke to her, prayed to her.

The crossing will not be so hard as I had thought; the Blessed Virgin told me so.

Oh! Father N., my wretched nature found it very painful to return to Mexico—no health, incompleted studies—to see my poor country ruined by this government—not to see my sainted mother to whom I owe my life, and whose death I still lament despite my resignation and conformity with the will of God. But the Virgin of Lourdes has granted me courage! letter

Father Pro's heroism in the face of death was not a sudden inspiration. It had long been welling from well known sources: intimacy with Christ and tender devotion to the Blessed Virgin. By such means God works wonders in a willing soul. Father Pro had given up self. To what heights soared his love for God and souls is revealed in this prayer to the Blessed Virgin:

The Crown of Thorns surrounding the sign of the Society of Jesus.

On life's highway I do not seek the gladness of Bethlehem; I do not wish to adore the Infant God in thy virginal hands, nor to enjoy the winsome presence of Jesus in thy humble home of Nazareth, nor to mingle with the angelic choirs in thy glorious Assumption.

My wish in life is for the jeers and derision of Calvary; for the slow agony of thy Son, the contempt, the disgrace and infamy of the Cross. My wish, O most sorrowful Virgin, is to stand near thee, to strengthen my soul through thy tears, to complete my offering through thy martyrdom, to temper my heart through thy solitude, and to love my God and thy God through my self-sacrifice.

Facing The Bullets Of Calles

Father Pro longed to die a martyr's death. He said that he would die, for only through the blood of many priests could Mexico be saved…

One morning in November, he asked the nuns of a convent where he was saying Mass to pray that God would graciously take his life for the salvation of his country. After Mass he said to the Superioress: “I feel that my offering has been accepted.”

Father Pro eagerly awaited God's appointed hour.

Calles was seeking an opportunity to further his designs. He found a suitable one, he thought, in an attempt against General Obregon, on November 13. The General, within a few hours of his return to the Capital, was on his way to a bull race when a car brushed against his. It contained four armed young men. One of them hurled a bomb at Obregon while the others opened fire. The officers of the General's escort returned fire, wounding one of the assailants. The names of the latter have since been disclosed, and it is absolutely certain that Father Pro and his brother Humberto were not there, nor were they even privy to the plot against Obregon.

Besides, for three days there was no question of fixing the responsibility on Father Pro. But in the evening of November 17, Mrs. J. Montes de Oca was suddenly arrested and sent to prison. Certain explanations given in an attempt to save her revealed, wilfully or not, the hiding place of the Pro brothers.

Calles' agents were jubilant at the prospect of apprehending at last the man who had eluded them for over a year. That same night it was determined to arrest him; Basail and a few soldiers were to carry out the order at daybreak.

Miguel and his brothers suspected nothing, as they had changed quarters a few days before. At 4 A.M., the door of their room opened suddenly: Basail and his men covered them with their revolvers:

Humberto, realizing the gravity of the situation, said to his brother the priest:

Leading his brother to the farther end of the room, he absolved him.

Roberto was also taken into custody. Meanwhile the soldiers were growing restless, apprehending resistance.

They had been told off by one Cruz, a “General”, albeit he had never faced an armed foe. A friend and tool of Calles, he alone knew the President's plans; he alone, in Miguel's case, was to act as witness, prosecutor, judge, and executioner.

The soldiers sent to capture the Pro brothers returned to the prison at an early hour. Cruz was still asleep. While awaiting the judge the three prisoners complied with the usual formalities. An attempt was made to incriminate them by suddenly confronting them with Obregon’s bomb-shattered car.

Cruz was in no hurry to give instructions. After vainly waiting for four hours the prisoners were led to their cells. Humberto was confined with Mrs. Montes de Oca, arrested the day before. Roberto and Miguel shared the same room.

For three days there was no mention of the arrest.

On November 23, Cruz gave out the first news regarding the prisoners. He declared the members of the League for the Defense of Religious Liberty responsible for the Obregon outrage, alleging that a house rented by Humberto and Mrs. Montes de Oca for Catholic meetings contained a bomb-making plant. He added that the assassins' car had been parked in the yard for several days.

On the 22, at 2 P.M., Cruz repaired to the prison, escorted by a few journalists. To the reporter of Excelsior Father Pro said quite plainly:

Obregon was in doubts as to the real authors of the attempt upon his life. He suspected the partisans of Gomez and Serrano; then it occurred to him that it might have been engineered by Calles himself with the assistance of Morones. To remove all doubts and ascertain whether or not the Pro brothers were guilty of the crime, he ordered an investigation. He sent his lawyer, Arturo Orci, who was in Obregon's car on November 13, to see General Cruz and demand a trial. The prisoners were under the exclusive control of the Inspector-General of Police.

Orci accordingly went to Cruz' office. The latter was away, but his secretary, Benito Guerra Leal, received the lawyer, who communicated Obregon’s demand for an immediate trial. Orci then asked to see the official report of the prisoners' arrest.

Leal handed him a paper.

Orci read it carefully and said:

Stressing every syllable to show that he meant what he said, Leal replied:

He promised Orci that a public trial would be held on the following day, as General Obregon demanded.

What did the prisoners do during their six days of captivity?

Their cells opened on a central hall: That of Miguel was opposite those of Humberto and Mrs. Montes de Oca. He could communicate only by signs, but from behind his prison bars he still managed to preach, pointing to heaven which awaited them. He thanked his benefactress, assuring her that up there he would soon repay what she had done for him during the last months. He gave absolution at a distance to the other Catholic prisoners in the hall.

November 20 fell on a Sunday. They got up a little celebration with prayers and pious reading and ended by singing in chorus “St. Ignatius' March.” Father Pro frequently recited the rosary out loud, and at night prayers were said in common.

Every day the prisoners were called upon to make declarations. On the 22, the day before the execution, a photographer was admitted into the hall to photograph the condemned men for the papers of the 23. The prisoners did not object. So convinced were they of their innocence that they expected to be released if only the promised trial came off.

On the 23, Cruz announced in the morning papers that, upon information received, the prisoners were to be tried.

Suddenly, towards eight o'clock, a great commotion was observed near the prison. Troops lined up. Photographers and reporters, duly notified, appeared on the scene. The streets filled with wondering crowds.

Meanwhile another scene was enacted in the prison. Officers came up to Father Pro and called: “Miguel Pro.”

The prisoner was accustomed to be summoned for all kinds of declarations. He left his cell at once, without his coat, and was sent back for it. Roberto, while helping him to put it on, felt his hand grasped by the doomed man and realized that it was his farewell.

Facing the Bullets of Calles

On the way, a guard asked Father Pro to forgive him:

He walked out with a firm step, unmoved.

A trustworthy correspondent wrote from Mexico City on December 4 that a priest whom he named stood on the path of the condemned men. It is surmised that Cruz released him in order that he might witness the fate of the “rebels”, who may thus have received absolution.

Father Pro stood at the place indicated, facing the squad. Major Torres asked him to make known his last wish:

He knelt down, slowly made the sign of the Cross, joined his hands, no doubt offered up to God the sacrifice of his life, and fervently kissed the little crucifix which he held in his hand.

Then he rose, refused to be blindfolded, and turning towards the representatives of the Government and the soldiers astonished at such self-possession:

With his crucifix he made the sign of the Cross over the people, saying:

Then, with his rosary twined round his left hand, he extended his arms in the form of a cross, and calmly said:

When the other Mexican martyrs died they shouted their favorite cry: Viva Christo Rey! (Long live Christ the King!)

Before uttering these words Father Pro was seen to pause. He raised his eyes heavenwards and slowly, in a low, distinct voice, like the priest at the consecration, he repeated the watchword of Pius XI to the Christian world:

He made a sign to the soldiers that he was ready. The officer gave the command: “Fire!” Miguel Pro fell with arms still extended. A sergeant stepped up and put a bullet through his head.

Still alive, the martyr is shot in the head.

It was 10.30 A.M.

Humberto appeared five minutes after, not knowing that he was going to die. At sight of his brother's body, he felt a shock but recovered at once. On his way to the spot pointed out to him, he touched the lifeless form with his foot as if to draw strength from the martyr.

Roberto expected to follow them in death as he had followed them in their apostolic life. From his prison window, which looked out on the execution yard, he witnessed the tragedy. He saw Miguel extend his arms and heard the reports. He saw Velchis fall, the valiant member of the A.C.J.M., then his brother Humberto and the young workman Tirado. But he was to remain on duty. Providence would not let his aged father be exiled to Cuba without support.

During the execution, General Cruz (in the center) quietly smokes a cigar. Basail is the last on the right.

The bodies were forthwith transferred to the military hospital. The Pros' relatives were not present at the execution. The news reached them only towards 11 o'clock.

Ana Maria had forebodings. At 9 o'clock she went to General Cruz' office, asking to see her brothers, but she was refused admittance. While anxiously waiting she heard that they had been shot.

An autopsy was hurriedly performed in one of the hospital wards: five bullets had lodged in the breasts of the martyrs. Ana Maria was allowed to see the bodies after they were laid in their coffins.

While kneeling beside them in tears she heard her father's voice:

Removing the lid of the priest's coffin, he silently kissed his child and with his handkerchief wiped the blood on the martyr's forehead. Then, coming to Humberto, he also kissed his forehead.

Ana Maria threw herself into her father's arms, sobbing. The latter gently extricating himself said firmly:

They went home with the remains of the martyrs.

The news soon spread throughout the city. No one believed in the guilt of the Pro brothers, not even Cruz and Obregon. Orci, the General's lawyer, had seen the assailants too closely on the day of the attempt to be mistaken when the prisoners marched past. He declared that the Pro brothers were certainly not the men whom he had seen in the auto from which the bomb was thrown.

But Cruz held a priest long noted for his zeal, a champion of the A.C.J.M. and an ardent promoter of the League for the Defense of Religious Liberty. His death sentence was already passed.

The Father Praying near the Remains of His Sons. Ana Maria between the two coffins.

To justify himself in the eyes of the public, Cruz charged the Pro brothers with having participated in the attempt against Obregon. But he soon discarded this pretext of his own invention. The Excelsior of November 23 merely referred to it, stating the real motive for Father Pro's death:

Father Pro had presumably not been hunted for so long on account of a plot hatched several months after! Besides, the Inspector-General of Police no longer concealed his real motives.

The matter was soon cleared up. It transpired that in the evening of November 22 Calles had resolved to put Father Pro to death. He sent for General Cruz and ordered him to execute at once the four prisoners taken six days before. Cruz suggested that it might be better to save legal appearances:

Obregon's lawyer had endeavored, as we have seen, to secure a regular trial, which was promised for the following day. It was not long ere the papers informed him of the result of the proposed investigation.

Calles' friend, Basail, who was privy to the real motives for Father Pro's arrest, said to Mrs. Montes de Oca, on entering the prison in the evening of November 23:

The truth is that President Calles executed Father Pro because the latter thwarted his designs against the Church. The man who thought himself all powerful and stood as the personal foe of Christ, was exasperated at being checkmated by the personal friend of Christ. He wished to get rid of him. His agents had hounded him for a whole year. When they caught him, he had him shot without a trial, contrary to the laws of the Republic.

Calles was unconsciously the instrument of God. On him falls the shame of being an executioner. He expected to destroy the work of Christ by suppressing His apostle. Instead, he gave the signal for a splendid triumph which God reserved for His servant.

The Martyrs' Triumph

The triumph of the martyrs began at once after their death.

From 5 to 11 P.M., and, on the following day, from 6 A.M. to 3 P.M., an endless procession moved towards the house where the bodies reposed, strewn with flowers. Thousands came to pray; many touched articles of devotion to the coffins.

A poor woman with a young child in her arms took one of the white roses on Miguel's coffin, touched it to the face of the martyr and then passed it over that of her child. Before leaving, she bade him kiss the sainted remains as a relic.

The visitors witnessed many touching scenes. Father and daughter set a splendid example of Christian fortitude. They could not tear themselves from the mortuary chapel. Their tears flowed but their countenances shone with pride.

The father remained kneeling near his two sons. To friends who sorrowingly tendered sympathy, he replied:

At nightfall the doors of the house closed to strangers.

Cruz had promised that Roberto would come during the night to bid his brothers farewell. The promise was not kept. A priest had secretly brought a consecrated Host in a reliquary for the prisoner to communicate. The Host rested all night on the martyrs coffin as on an altar.

How reminiscent of the primitive Christians praying in the catacombs near the tombs on which was offered up the Victim of Calvary!

The mourners received at a Mass celebrated towards 4 A.M.

At 6 o'clock the streets were thronged. The doors opened and an unbroken line of visitors filed through till 3 P.M.

At the appointed hour an immense gathering was waiting at the door. As the coffins, borne by priests, crossed the threshold, an acclamation thundered forth:

The people in their own way were about to pass sentence on the victims of Calles.

From the balconies flowers rained on the bodies as they passed. At street corners and everywhere people fell on their knees like on the feast of Corpus Christi. Over five hundred autos escorted the richly draped hearse. Thousands spontaneously fell into line. The rosary was recited. People shouted:

The Martyrs' Triumph. In the center, the hearse bearing the remains of the Pro Brothers.

The following letter written the night of the funeral by a young Mexican to a friend in New York will no doubt prove interesting.

Father Pro's body was laid in the Jesuits' vault. The prayers of the Church were recited amid profound silence. Suddenly—a particular omitted by the young correspondent—the voice of an unknown man rang out:

This was the signal for further cheering.

The Pro family then came to Humberto's coffin. The father himself threw the first shovelfuls of earth on the beloved remains. Returning to his group with firm step, he said these sublime words:

And the priests took up the triumphal strain.

The throng dispersed towards the city, while the hills still re-echoed songs and prayers.

From the windows of his castle, President Calles could see the heroic Christians march past singing the triumphal hymn to Christ the King.

Thus, nineteen centuries ago, did the first Christians pass before Nero after witnessing the death of their brethren.

One of the little bills in the form of stamps spread broadcast by the League for the Defense of Religious Liberty, read:

Father Pro's blood will be the seed of heroes, and He who has such champions will win the final victory:

“When I Am In Heaven…”

Petitions from his friends did not tarry, nor did his answers. Less than three months after his death, the Fathers appointed to collect reports of favors granted through his intercession wrote:

The first favor granted by him was no doubt to one of his penitents. The latter, who was living in Mexico City, found herself during November 1927 in great financial stress. She brought some of her accounts to the Father, who promised to look over them and advise her. But on November 18, he was arrested and cast into prison. The first news to reach his penitent was through the papers of November 23 announcing the execution. Aghast, she rushed to her lawyer and told him her distress: Father Pro had just been executed. The lawyer would not believe it.

The apparition was reported by a priest of Mexico City. Such facts are no doubt harder to establish than bodily cures. But Father Pro's plan, I think, is to emulate the Little Flower, who not only showers roses from heaven but is also willing to come down on earth to comfort her devotees.

Father Pro excelled in uplifting souls. He was also famous for his zeal in relieving the sick and the poor. It seems as if he wished to continue from on high his mission upon earth.

The day after his death, from the earliest hours, a procession of devout visitors passed before the remains of the martyred brothers. An old woman of the poorer class, blind for over six years, was anxious to go but could not leave the house where she lived with Don Valladares, at X, a little town near Mexico City. The talk was all about the martyrs' death and the immense crowds surging to venerate their remains. Valladares advised the blind woman to implore Father Pro to restore her eyesight. Hardly had she uttered a prayer when she joyfully grasped the hand of Valladares, thanking him for his advice. The latter, surprised, asked if she could see.

Valladares wanted a proof.

Deeply moved, a priest at once set out for Mexico City, and standing by the coffins of the glorious martyrs, he informed the family of the signal favor granted through Father Pro's intercession.

In November 1925, a Poor Clare fell from a height of fifteen feet on a staircase while washing the banister. She remained several hours unconscious. A diagnosis revealed the displacement of several ribs and of the biliary vesicle and a fractured spine. For three years she was a prey to excruciating pain.

On January 25, 1928, a relic of Father Pro was brought to the invalid, who was urged to ask the martyr to obtain her cure. On applying the relic, the pain subsided; it ceased completely on the following day. Soon after, she rose without difficulty, dressed unaided without the slightest discomfort, walked about, went upstairs, and resumed community life like a nun in perfect health.

The case of Joaquina Delgado y Riestra, already published, may thus be summarized:

The young girl had a cancer in the breast. The doctor who examined her pronounced an operation necessary. Two specialists declared that it was the only way to check the disease.

The patient, who refused to be operated on, began a novena to Father Pro and confidently applied a relic of the martyr. She soon felt great relief and returned to the doctor whom she had first consulted. The latter found her completely cured.

We may be permitted to insist on this case. We are in possession of documents proving that Joaquina Delgado's cure is inexplicable without Divine intervention.

Dr. L. G. Vasquez. —Mexico D. F., January 4, 1928.

Other less striking favors are granted through Father Pro's intercession. Reports like the following reach El Paso every day:

Plain people sent plain reports thanking Father Pro.

Another poor woman wrote from Mexico City that she obtained two favors after making a pilgrimage to Father Pro's tomb. “I have two sons. One would not work for fifteen years and gave me much annoyance. The other was in prison and it was almost impossible to liberate him. I went to Father Pro's tomb and prayed for my two sons. I made a novena promising to publish the favor.

Gracia Padilla, of Mexico City, widow of M. del C., informed her son of her daughter's cure in a letter dated February 3, 1928. Her daughter's eyesight was seriously affected. A Mexico City specialist urgently ordered several punctures in the white of the eye. The mother put her trust in Father Pro.

Came the dread visit to the doctor's.

It must not be thought, however, that Father Pro reserves his favors for his Mexican compatriots. He is beginning to scatter tokens of benevolence over the western countries where Providence trained him for apostolic work.

First of all, the conversion of an old man through Father Pro's intercession evidences that the ardent apostle is mindful in heaven of his priestly function.

A Jesuit Father was temporarily serving a little parish church near Paray-le-Monial, in France. On Sexagesima Sunday (1928) he returned crestfallen, telling how an old man on his deathbed had not even let a priest in to salute him. On hearing this, a young Mexican Jesuit, a former schoolmate of Father Pro, remembered the martyr's power with God. He said to the priest who had imparted his distress:

They began a novena. On the following Sunday the invalid was found unconscious. He could hardly be made to understand that a priest was at his side ready to hear his confession:

On Ash Wednesday, the priest brought a relic of Father Pro. The invalid, who had fully regained consciousness, made a fervent confession and publicly received Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction.

From Spain comes the news of a marvellous cure obtained through Father Pro. The narrative of the humble servant who was the happy recipient is set forth in all its freshness.

Literal translation of the narrative of the cure attributed to Father Pro (Spain).

Signed: Conceptión Vaqué The nun's deposition: “I myself applied the picture of Father Pro to the patient's hand, experiencing at the same time a deep emotion. I certify that the patient is cured and that her statement is true.” Sister Jacoba Ghimerá. —Barcelona, November 22, 1928.

Don Juan Solá Suris, surgeon at the Operating Clinic, certifies that Mrs. Conceptión Vaqué was treated in April of this year for ostitis of the metacarpus in the left hand, and that she is now cured of this disease.

In testimony whereof I have signed this letter at Barcelona, on November 16, 1928. Juan Solá Suris.

The last favor, granted in Rome, seems to show that Father Pro aspires to a worldwide reputation.

Ada Sassi, who had long been ailing, fell, on May 25, 1927, into a state of extreme weakness and exhaustion. Doctors, repeatedly consulted, could afford her little relief.

Entering the Quisisana Clinique on November 8, 1928, she soon felt that she was growing worse. But trusting in Father Pro's intercession, she besought him to obtain her cure. On November 21, 22, and 23 she received Holy Communion for that intention. On November 24, the day after the anniversary of Father Pro's death, Ada Sassi felt quite restored. Her strength and appetite returned. Her prayer was heard.{Copy of Dr. Tranquilli’s testimony: I, the undersigned, surgeon, certify that Miss Ada Sassi had been suffering, for about five years, from nervous-organc [sic] exhaustion, and that but little improvement resulted from the reconstituting and opotherapic treatment. Marked and steadily increasing weakness had reduced her, in November 1928, to a deplorable condition when she entered the Quisisana Clinique. I, the undersigned, saw de visu that from night till morning of November 24, Miss Ada Sassi passed without transition from extreme asthenia to perfect health. In testimony whereof I have signed: Prof. Ercole Tranquilli.” —Rome, January 15, 1929.}

A letter of June 23, 1928, informs us that devotion to Father Pro is rapidly spreading in Mexico. Every day the faithful can be seen ascending Dolores Hill and kneeling on the spot where the remains of the martyr repose. At times the throng of visitors swells to the proportions of a pilgrimage.

God apparently blesses the Mexican people's confidence in the power of Father Pro, since He grants so many favors and graces to those invoking the name of His Servant.

The day is perhaps not far off when heroic Mexico may pray officially to her heroic son.

The Holy Father, who longs to comfort his children in the most terrible persecution, seems desirous that Mexican martyrs be speedily enrolled in the catalogue of the Blessed.

Some time ago he was presented with a photograph showing a group of Mexicans killed by Calles' bands. The Pope considered them with emotion and then wrote below the photo the words of the Mass for Martyrs, which under the Pontiff's pen assume an unmistakable significance:

The Church will proclaim their glory!

Notes On The Text

For the most part, this work is taken verbatim from its source text. However, the work had to be altered in certain minor ways, which do not change the sense of any part of it, no matter how small. For the reader's security, however, those changes are detailed below.

In general, British spellings (e.g., “centre”) have been substituted with American (“center”). I have inserted the Oxford comma throughout. I have also inserted commas and other punctuation where it seemed necessary to agree with contemporary standards. Also, where necessary, I have replaced accents in Spanish words where they were missing; they were perhaps omitted by the original translator as being unfamiliar and offputting to English speakers, but I don't believe that problem still exists. Also, all ellipses have been standardized to three dots.

On page (click here), Porfirio Diaz was erroneously referred to as “Dias”. I have corrected the error.

On page (click here), [error:singlequotes:ii]{.pageref}, [error:singlequotes:iii]{.pageref}, and [error:singlequotes:iv]{.pageref} single quotes were used erroneously in place of double quotes; this has been corrected.

On page (click here), double quotes were used in place of single quotes; this has been corrected.

On page (click here), a closing single quotation was omitted after “Government”; it has been added.

On page (click here), the word “letter” was used when “latter” was meant. This has been corrected.

On page (click here), the word “metal” was used where “mettle” was intended. This has been corrected.

On page (click here), the text refers to “base ball” (two words); this has been changed to the more expected, modern “baseball”, one word.

On page (click here), the old spelling “gipsy” has been updated to “gypsy”.

On page (click here), the old two-word form “per cent” has been updated to “percent”.

Where the old custom of beginning quotations with “—” was used, we have replaced it with the more modern quotation marks.

On page (click here), an oddly-used ellipsis was removed.

On page (click here), the phrase “nothing of the earth earthy” appeared; I have deciphered this, as best I can, to “nothing of the earthly”. On the same page, “earthy” has been corrected to “earthly”.

On page (click here), the phrase “in behalf” has been changed to the more usual “on behalf”.

On page (click here), the opening quote prior to the word “reached” in St. Miguel's letter was missing; it has been added.

On page (click here), the opening quote prior to the words “Still half dazed” in St. Miguel's words was missing; it has been added.

On page (click here), the closing quote after the words “1,200 Communions” in St. Miguel's letter was missing; it has been added.

On page (click here), internal quotations were double-quotes; I have fixed them to single-quotes.

On page (click here), the closing quotes after “wriggle out of it” were missing; they have been added.

On page (click here), the phrase “for ever” was printed “for even”; I have amended this to the customary “forever”.

On page (click here), the word “witnesses” was misspelled, with one too few “s”; it has been corrected.

On page (click here), the possessive for “St. Paul” was omitted; I have replaced it.

On page (click here), the word “unsweetened” was spelled “unsweatened”; we have corrected it.

On page (click here), “rumors” were referred to as “remors”; we have corrected this.

On page (click here), “cautious” was mistakenly printed as “cautions”. This has been fixed.

On page (click here), a period followed St. Miguel's question about betting a glass of brandy; we have changed this to a question mark.

On page (click here), I have fixed the word “exhausting” to read “exhausted”.

On page (click here), “Long life” has been replaced with “Long live”.

On page (click here), an apostrophe with no “s” was given to Father Pro; this has been corrected.

On page (click here), “later” was corrected to “latter”.

On page (click here), “has” was corrected to “had”.

On page (click here), “hapiness” was corrected to “happiness”.

On page (click here), “Marial” was replaced with the more usual “Marian”.

On page (click here), “whirwind” was corrected to “whirlwind”.

On page (click here), an unnecessary double quote was removed.

The letter of Dr. Luis G. Vasquez, starting on page (click here), was formerly entirely in a rather unwieldy footnote; it has been moved to the main text.

The deposition of a nun and of Dr. Juan Solà Suris, formerly in a footnote, have been moved to the main text.

The photograph of Father Pro being shot in the head was taken from other sources and added to the text.

A paragraph asking that reports of miracles be sent to the postulator of Father Pro's cause originally appeared at the end of the text; given his subsequent canonization, this has been removed.