What did they see at Fátima?

I declare — and with me several persons of distinction with whom I have spoken and whose illustrious names I can cite — that we deliberately watched the sun several times, for set periods, to make quite sure of the truth of the facts; but we saw nothing abnormal after the miraculous phenomenon. That the miracle took place is certain, absolutely certain; thousands of people affirm it, not only simple, naive peasants but highly educated people who know the laws of nature well, and who, with a unanimous cry of reverence, fell to their knees proclaiming the grandeur of the miracle without the slightest doubt.

If it were some cosmic phenomenon, would it not already have been foreseen and announced by the learned men who devote themselves to the science of the stars? And yet there was not the slightest announcement of it, from the month of the Virgin^*, when the extraordinary events began to take place on the thirteenth of every month, until now, the month of the Rosary^*, when these miraculous manifestations, announced in advance by little Lucia, came to an end.

I (modesty aside), who am not altogether stupid or ignorant, who went there full of curiosity but without faith in the apparition, with my soul perfectly indifferent to the grandeur of the mystery, deaf to the voice of the inspired child who bade us in the name of Our Lady to look at the sun, fearing to damage or lose my sight by doing so, as is the general belief, I resisted the suggestion; and only after everyone around me, with ecstatic exclamations, had aroused my curiosity to look, did I brave the selfish fear of losing my sight, and then I looked; and, Blessed be God! I saw! I saw what thousands of people were contemplating!

The rain, which had fallen all night and all morning, fine, persistent and tiresome, completely covering the sky with a grey mantle, suddenly stopped at the hour announced by the little shepherds; the clouds began to tear apart and to open (allow me the comparison) as if it were the curtain of a theatre, to reveal the sun darting and casting its luminous rays on the place where the prophetic children were in ecstasy.

The sun then had the appearance of a globe of dull silver, surrounded by a purplish disc, very dark, as when eclipses are not entirely total.

Then a marvellous thing was seen! The sun spinning rapidly like a firework wheel: this prodigy was repeated three times in a row.

The prodigy announced by the little ones was taking place, so that all should believe in the apparition of Our Lady!

Then the clouds gradually disappeared from the firmament, which was left clear, serene and blue, as only the sky of this beautiful Portuguese land of ours can be.

I looked around; the appearance and colours of the landscape were the same as those observed during an eclipse; the same bluish light, sui generis, of that very special electric blue peculiar to phenomena of this nature.

To show clearly how hard I tried not to let myself be influenced by suggestion, I will add that the yellow, red and purple colours that many people said they saw when they lowered their eyes to the landscape, or to the handkerchiefs we had to raise to our eyes as we wept with emotion, were nothing more than the result of our staring at the sun with the naked eye, as always happens in such circumstances.

On the grandeur of the spectacle, the beauties of the landscape, the imposing sight of the multitude, on the tenderness stirred by the devotion of so many believing souls singing in chorus the Ave^*, the Crêmos Deus^*, the Tantum Ergo^*, and fervent prayers to the Virgin, Our Lady of the Rosary.

“It had been arranged that all those who were to travel in the lorry that would take us to Fátima should meet in Torres Novas. With what emotion I write and speak the name of this blessed place!

At ten to nine we set off in continuous rain, which accompanied us all the way there and which, in my view, was the first favour the Most Holy Virgin obtained for us, after 5 months of drought. On reaching Vila Nova de Ourém we began to climb towards Fátima; you cannot imagine how many vehicles of every kind and people on foot we kept passing, who had left their homes so much earlier than we had. In spite of the persistent rain, no one looked discouraged; everyone looked cheerful and happy, as if saying: “Here we go too, inspired by the same faith.” We all felt as though we were part of one family, and so indeed we were.

We stopped at the church, where we went to adore the Blessed Sacrament and to renew our prayer to Our Lady that she would not allow Her people to be disappointed. I certainly did not doubt the power of God; but I doubted whether we would be granted to see Him manifest Himself in our favour, after He had been so outraged, so disregarded!...

It was noon; we ate something from our provisions, more because we thought we should than out of need. At 1 o'clock we set off for the place... and you can have no idea of the extent of ground occupied by a compact multitude, in the greatest calm and respect, or of the number of cars, carriages, wagons and vehicles of every kind that filled the road for almost a kilometre, barely letting through, with difficulty, anyone who ventured to cross it on foot. We stayed inside the lorry; nothing else was possible.

The hour was approaching and I was certain that the weather was going to clear. In fact, a little before 2 o'clock the rain stopped, though the sky remained leaden. Suddenly all those people, possessed by indescribable anxiety and some of them perhaps disheartened, began to notice a light mist at the place of the holm-oak shrub, and after a few minutes we saw everyone turning towards the sun. I heard afterwards that Our Lady had said at that instant to Lucia (one of the children): “Tell the People to look at the sun.”

Suddenly a luminous disc the size of a large host, but which everyone could gaze at as one gazes at the moon, seemed to detach itself from the sun (or rather to place itself in front of it), visibly coming down in a continuous rotation which, after a pause, was repeated. A lovely cloud, now fire-coloured, now purple, now pink, now golden, appeared and disappeared in succession, the colour being reflected not only on all the bystanders but over that whole area. The yellow colour above all was very impressive; it had already been noticed on the other occasions, but less intense. The horizon was bounded in a perfect circle by luminous spots, equal in size and in distance from one another, giving somewhat the impression of field fires, but in the yellowish tone that is sometimes seen at sunset. This whole effect lasted a long while, and the spots I mention appeared one after another. Simply marvellous and astounding!

.....
I had taken a list of the people for whom I especially wanted to pray. It was as if I had guessed that there I would only be able to cry out: “Praised be God, praised be God”; and that without ceasing!

Many people (and entirely trustworthy people) saw a lovely star moving towards the oak tree with a glow.

I was with the two little girls, who were dressed in white with very simple little crowns on their little heads. They told me that Our Lady appeared to them with St. Joseph and the Child beside her; she said that she was the Lady of the Rosary, that they should pray it a great deal, that this was a warning, but that if they did not repent and went on offending her Divine Son, He would send a great punishment on Portugal.

The two little girls, separately, described the vision in the same way; and Lucia, who at her young age might have been expected to lose her head amid all the commotion around her, kept telling everyone in a clear, calm voice, as she passed by (in her father's arms) — what Our Lady had said to her

The hamlets, the villages, the nearby towns were emptied of people.

Along the roads, already on the eve, groups of pilgrims were travelling on their way to Fátima.

Fishermen from Vieira⁴ left their houses of black wood set above the sea, and the work of stowing away the catch. Through the pinewoods, where the crowberries look like drops of dew in the greenery, across the sands where the sails of the windmills turn, they came on foot, woollen leggings on their muscular legs, warm skirts over their shoulders, on their heads the bag with their provisions, with the short, swaying step that made their skirts swirl and set fluttering the orange kerchiefs on which their black hats sat. Workmen from Marinha⁵, farmers from Monte Real⁶, from Córtes⁷, from Marrazes⁸, hill women from far away — from the hills of Soubio⁹, of Minde¹⁰, of Louriçal¹¹ — people from everywhere the news of the miracle had reached, left their houses and fields and came along on horseback, by cart or on foot, crossing the roads, going over hills and through pinewoods, on the long trek along the roads, which for two days were enlivened by the rolling of carts, the jog-trot of donkeys and the clamour of the groups of pilgrims.

Autumn was reddening the harvested vineyards. The north-east wind, cold and cutting, heralding winter, made the transparent poplars on the riverbanks tremble as they paled, longing for the sun, in the yellow tones of old lace.

On the sands the white sails of the windmills were turning. In the pinewoods the green tops of the pines bent in the wind.

The clouds were gradually covering the sky. The mist was piling up in light, soft flakes.

The sea, in the vastness of the beach at Vieira, foamed, roared, rolled itself into high waves, and across the fields its voice could be heard in a sinister clamour!

All night and all through the early morning it rained: a fine, persistent rain that soaked the fields and saddened the earth, and whose cold damp pierced to the bone the women, the children, the men and the animals crossing the muddy roads as they hurried towards the Hill of the Miracle.

The rain fell and fell, soft and stubborn.

The thick skirts of serge and striped cotton dripped and weighed like lead on the waistbands. The caps and the broad hats streamed water onto the new jackets of the Sunday-best suits. The bare feet of the women and the hobnailed boots of the men splashed in the wide puddles of the muddy roads.

But the rain seemed not to wet them; it seemed they did not feel the rain!

They walked on and on, climbing the hill, lit up by faith, eagerly longing for the miracle that Our Lady had promised for the 13th, at one o'clock, sun time^*, to the simple, pure souls of three children who grazed flocks!

Left behind, lost in the mist, blurred in the transparency of the rain, were pines, poplars, oak shrubs, red patches of vineyards, farmsteads, ploughed fields of dark earth... The fields were deserted. The houses were shut!

There was a strange silence in the fields, deserted of people and flocks; there was an air of expectation and emotion in the attitude of things, of the poor houses as though asleep in the silence, their windows and doors shut to the light!

The hill was high, but it seemed to the walkers that the climb did not tire them!

The hill was sad, ever sadder, with bare black stones and without the cheer of a single green tree, but the walkers did not feel the striking, tragic torment of that landscape of sorrow!

The rain began to thin out. It was now only a very light veil of mist that was gradually dissolving, and little by little the hill was growing brighter.

A murmur was drawing near, coming down from the hill. A murmur that seemed like the distant voice of the sea, which had fallen silent in the silence of the fields...

They were hymns, growing clearer, sung by thousands of voices.

On the plateau of the hill, covering the slope, filling a valley, one could see an enormous, shifting mass of thousands and thousands of God's creatures, thousands and thousands of souls in prayer!

With raised hands and eyes in ecstasy, they came in the ardent faith of belief. They came to ask Our Lady for the miracle, to ask for the redemption of sins, to ask for a blessing on the bitterness of life!

At one o'clock in the afternoon, sun time, the rain stopped.

The sky had a greyish tone of pearl, and a strange brightness lit up the biblical and tragic vastness of the sad landscape, ever sadder...

The sun had something like a veil of transparent gauze, so that eyes could look at it. The grey tone of mother-of-pearl turned as if into a gleaming silver plate, which kept breaking open until the clouds were torn apart and the silvery sun, wrapped in the same grey lightness of gauze, was seen to rotate, spinning round within the circle of the parted clouds!

It was a single cry from every mouth; the thousands and thousands of God's creatures whom faith was lifting up to heaven fell to their knees on the soaked ground!

The light turned blue, a strange blue, as if it came through the stained-glass windows of an immense cathedral and spread through that gigantic nave whose pointed arches were formed by the hands raised in the air...

The blue slowly died away, so that the light seemed filtered through yellow stained glass.

Yellow patches now fell on faces, on white kerchiefs, on the dark, poor serge skirts. They were patches repeated endlessly on the low holm oaks, on the stones, on the hillside.

Everyone was weeping, everyone was praying, hat in hand, under the grandiose and unique impression of the awaited miracle!

They were seconds, they were instants that seemed like hours, so intensely were they lived!

Clouds passed over the vague grey brightness that veiled the sun!

The souls in prayer, whose life had been suspended for a few instants, came back to life.

The clouds were torn to shreds; blue patches of sky appeared. The sun, in the impassive serenity of all time, vaguely lit up the bare hill where Our Lady, through the mouths of three children who grazed flocks, had gathered thousands and thousands of God's creatures!

We spent the day getting ready for the journey. We were to leave at 11 p.m., travelling by night so as to arrive in the morning.

Towards night the sky begins to cloud over, and shortly afterwards the storm breaks — and what a storm! It is past midnight and nothing can be heard but thunder, and the lightning is continuous. What can we do? Not going would be a terrible disappointment. Carlos crosses himself and says he will not go in this. We wait, asking Our Lady to drive the storm away. At 2 o'clock the weather is better and they decide to leave. The night is pitch dark. They harness the mule to the cart; inside they put some low chairs for us, and we settle in with some blankets. On the front bench sit Carlos's wife and her goddaughter¹⁷; in the back are we¹⁸, Regina¹⁹ and Emilia²⁰. Carlos leads the mule by the halter, and so we begin the journey.

Every now and then flashes light up the road; the storm is further away but still going on.

So we go on for more than an hour. The roads are dreadful and the cart jolts all the time, which at least keeps us awake; Emilia makes us laugh constantly.

We have already begun to climb the Serra de Aire^*. The worst of it is that the rain comes back and we have little protection, for the water running off the umbrellas soaks the cart and wets the blankets.

At times Carlos climbs on to the bench and goes on guiding the animal from there; the good thing is that he knows the roads very well.

It is beginning to get light. The rain is now very fine, almost a wet mist. As there is now some light we can see trees split by lightning; here in the hills the storm must have been dreadful. Carlos was right to say he would not come; he knows what they are like.

We have been travelling a long time over these hills, which seem to have no end. Now they say we are near Fatima. It is raining in earnest; we are already soaked. So as not to get too cold, and to help the mule on the climbs, we all go on foot, except Emilia, who cannot walk much.

At last we reach Fatima. It is 9 o'clock. The weather is a little better, but the sky is completely overcast and threatens more rain. A great many people are arriving by various roads through the hills, like us; most of them are wet, but they all keep going. I don't even know what for, since nothing definite has been set, and it is only because they say the Lady will speak to Lucia today.

The cart stays in Fatima. We ate something, and now we are going on foot to the Cova da Iria, which is the place where they say the apparitions have been happening.

We walk for almost an hour before we reach the field, a stretch of ground a good deal lower than the road, with only a few holm oaks on it. A good many people are there, waiting; let's see for what!

It is nearly noon. They say the little shepherds are going to arrive; I would like to see them. The place where the apparitions have already happened is marked out with some sticks, to leave the little ones some room away from the people, but we can no longer get very close, as there are so many people. The ground is so soaked that our feet sink in; we are already so muddy. We decide to stay at a slightly higher spot, though further away. There is movement in the crowd: it is the little shepherds arriving. Some men clear a way for them; I barely see them. They go to the place with the sticks. It is raining in earnest.

People begin saying that Lucia says to close the umbrellas, that the Lady is coming. It is raining so hard, but everyone obeys and we close our umbrellas. And indeed, shortly afterwards the rain stops, but we see nothing more. Our eyes search everywhere. Now a small cloud seems to settle on a holm oak by the sticks; the sun appears between the clouds, but with no brilliance at all. It looks like the moon, and you would say it has a cross in the middle; and now, oh, wonder! The atmosphere is tinged with the colours of the rainbow. I see Rita's²⁴ white felt hat turn orange, then green, then bluish, then pink²⁵ and lastly golden; everything is golden. What a lovely sight!

Everyone is spellbound. A man near us suddenly falls to the ground unconscious. The sun, completely black, seems to come loose from the sky and begins to spin round on itself very fast it looks as if it is going to fall; a cry goes up from the whole crowd, which falls to its knees begging for mercy.

I too find myself on my knees on top²⁶ of a heap of stones without realising it. But it is all over in a moment: the sun is hidden by the clouds again, the cloud seems to lift, and everyone stands there as if stunned, not knowing what has happened. They say Lucia spoke with the Lady. We do not manage to see the little shepherds again. We make our way to Fatima, where we get into the cart and go back to Rodrigo. The weather is fine; only a few scattered clouds can be seen in the sky, and the sun has its natural brilliance.

Jumping down, after a long journey, at about four in the afternoon yesterday at Chão de Maçãs station⁵, where religious people who had come from distant parts to attend the “miracle” also got off, I asked a young lad from the regular “char-à-banc”^* service point-blank whether he had seen the Lady yet. With a sardonic smile and a sidelong look, he did not hesitate to answer:

— All I ever saw there was stones, carts, motor cars, beasts of burden and people!

Through a simple misunderstanding, the carriage that was to take Judah Ruah and me to the town did not turn up, and we bravely decided to tramp some two leagues⁷, since there was no room for us in the stagecoach and the gigs waiting for passengers had long since been taken. On the way we came upon the first bands of pilgrims heading in the direction [sic] of the holy place, a good twenty kilometres and more away⁸. Men and women are almost all barefoot, the women with bags on their heads topped by their heavy shoes, the men leaning on thick staves and prudently armed with umbrellas as well. In general they seem oblivious to what is going on around them, quite uninterested in the landscape and the other travellers, as if lost in a dream, praying the rosary in a mournful chant. A woman begins the first part of the Hail Mary, the greeting; her companions continue in chorus with the second part, the petition. With a steady, measured step they tread the dusty road, between pine woods and olive groves, so as to reach the place of the apparition before nightfall; there, in the open air under the cold light of the stars, they plan to sleep, keeping the best places near the blessed holm oak, so as to see better today.

At the entrance to the town, women of the people, whom their surroundings have already infected with the virus of scepticism, comment mockingly on the affair of the day: — So you're going to see the saint tomorrow?

— Not me. Now, if she came here!

And they laugh heartily, while the devout go on, indifferent to everything except the purpose of their pilgrimage. In Ourem one finds lodging⁹ only through someone's extreme kindness. During the night the most varied vehicles gather in the town square carrying believers and the curious, among them old ladies dressed in dark clothes, already bowed under the weight of years, but with the burning fire of faith sparkling in their eyes, which spurred them to the courageous act [sic] of leaving for one day the little corner of home from which they are never parted. At daybreak new bands appear, undaunted, and cross the town without stopping for an instant, breaking its silence with the harmony of hymns sung by very tuneful female voices, in violent contrast with the roughness of the people...

The sun rises, but the look of the sky threatens a storm. Black clouds pile up precisely over Fátima. Nothing, however, holds back those who converge there by every road and by every means of transport. Luxurious motor cars glide by at dizzying speed, sounding their horns; ox carts drag slowly along one side of the road; wagons, victorias, closed calèches and carts fitted with makeshift seats are loaded to bursting. Almost all carry, along with the more or less modest provisions for Christian mouths, a ration of chaff for the dumb creatures that the "poverello"^* of Assisi called our brothers, and which valiantly do their work... A harness bell jingles here and there; a little cart decked with box sprigs can be seen; but the festive air is discreet, behaviour is restrained and order absolute... Little donkeys trot along the edge of the road, and the cyclists, very numerous, perform wonders to avoid running into the carts.

At about ten o'clock the sky becomes completely overcast, and before long it began to pour. Ropes of water, driven by a bitter wind, lash faces, soak the macadam and drench to the bone the walkers who have no hats or other protection. But nobody grows impatient or gives up, and while some take shelter under the trees, by the walls of the estates or in the scattered houses along the road, others march on with impressive endurance, among them some ladies whose dresses, clinging to their bodies under the force and persistence of the rain, show their shapes as if they had just come out of the bath!

* * *

The spot on the heath of Fátima where the Virgin was said to have appeared to the little shepherds from the hamlet of Aljustrel is overlooked for a long stretch by the road to Leiria, along which the vehicles that had brought the pilgrims and onlookers were drawn up. Someone counted more than a hundred motor cars and more than a hundred bicycles, and it would be impossible to count the various carriages that blocked the road, one of them the Torres Novas motor bus, in which people of every social class mingled as equals.

But the bulk of the pilgrims, thousands of souls who had come from many leagues around, joined by faithful from various provinces (people from the Alentejo and the Algarve, from the Minho and the Beiras), gather around the little holm oak which, according to the little shepherds, the vision had chosen as its pedestal, and which could be regarded as the centre of a wide circle on whose edge other spectators and devotees settle themselves. Seen from the road, the whole scene is simply fantastic. Many of the prudent country folk, sheltering under their enormous umbrellas, accompany the whittling-down of their meagre provisions with the spiritual fare of sacred hymns and decades of the rosary^*. No one is afraid of sinking their feet in the sodden clay for the joy of seeing close up the holm oak, over which they have put up a rough arch from which two lanterns sway... The groups singing the praises of the Virgin take turns, and a terrified hare bolting off through the brush distracts only half a dozen shepherd lads, who catch it and club it to death...

And the little shepherds? Lucia, aged 10, the seer, and her little companions, Francisco, aged 9, and Jacinta, aged 7, have not yet arrived. They make their appearance perhaps half an hour before the time given for the apparition. The little girls, crowned with garlands of flowers, are led to the spot where the arch stands. The rain falls incessantly, but nobody loses heart. Carriages with latecomers arrive on the road. Groups of the faithful kneel in the mud, and Lucia asks them, orders them, to close their umbrellas. The order is passed on and obeyed at once, without the least reluctance. There are people, many people, as if in ecstasy; people deeply moved, on whose dry lips prayer has frozen; people dumbstruck, hands joined and eyes brimming; people who seem to feel, to touch the supernatural... The child asserts that the Lady spoke to her once more, and the sky, still murky, suddenly begins to clear overhead; the rain stops, and one senses that the sun is about to flood with light the landscape that the wintry morning had made even gloomier...

It is the old time^* that this crowd goes by: a crowd that dispassionate estimates by educated people, wholly free of mystical influences, put at thirty or forty thousand souls... The miraculous manifestation, the visible sign that was announced, is about to happen, many pilgrims assure us... And then one witnesses a spectacle unique and unbelievable to anyone who did not see it. From the top of the road, where the carriages are crowded together and where many hundreds of people have stayed, lacking the courage to venture onto the muddy ground, one sees the whole immense crowd turn towards the sun, which appears free of clouds, at its zenith. The sun looks like a plate of dull silver, and it is possible to look at its disc without the least effort. It does not burn, it does not blind. One would say an eclipse was taking place. But then a tremendous clamour goes up, and the spectators nearest by can be heard shouting:

— Miracle, miracle! A marvel, a marvel!

Before the dazzled eyes of those people, whose attitude takes us back to biblical times and who, pale with astonishment and bareheaded, gaze up at the blue, the sun trembled; the sun made sudden movements never seen before, outside all cosmic laws; the sun “danced”, in the peasants' typical expression.. Perched on the step of the Torres Novas motor bus, an old man whose stature and features, at once gentle and energetic, recall those of Paul Déroulède¹⁰, faces the sun and recites the Creed^* from beginning to end in a ringing voice. I ask who he is and am told he is Mr

João Maria Amado de Melo Ramalho da Cunha Vasconcelos¹². I then see him turn to those around him who had kept their hats on, vehemently begging them to bare their heads before so extraordinary a demonstration of the existence of God. Similar scenes are repeated elsewhere, and a lady cries out, bathed in tears of distress and almost choking:

— What a shame! There are still men who will not bare their heads before so stupendous a miracle!¹³

And then they ask one another whether they saw anything, and what. Most admit to having seen the trembling, the dancing of the sun; others, however, declare that they saw the smiling face of the Virgin herself, and swear that the sun spun round on itself like a Catherine wheel, and that it came down almost close enough to burn the earth with its rays... Some say they saw it change colour, one colour after another...

* * *

It is nearly three in the afternoon.

The sky is swept clear of clouds and the sun follows its course with its usual splendour, which no one dares to look at directly. And the little shepherds? Lucia, the one who speaks with the Virgin, announces with theatrical gestures, from the arms of a man¹⁴ who carries her from group to group, that the war had ended¹⁵ and that our soldiers^* were going to come home... Such news, however, does not add to the joy of those who hear it. The heavenly sign was everything. There is intense curiosity to see the two little girls with their garlands of roses; some try to kiss the hands of the "little saints", one of whom, Jacinta, is closer to fainting than to dancing; but what everyone longed for, the sign from heaven, was enough to satisfy them and to root them in their simple, unquestioning faith^*. Street vendors offer the children's portraits on postcards, and other cards showing a soldier of the Portuguese Expeditionary Corps "thinking of the help of his protectress for the salvation of the Fatherland", and even a picture of the Virgin as the figure of the vision... That was good business, and certainly more centavos^* went into the vendors' pockets and into the alms box for the little shepherds than into the outstretched hands of the lepers and the blind who, jostling among the pilgrims, filled the air with their piercing cries...

The crowd disperses quickly, without difficulty, without a shadow of disorder, and without any need for a patrol of the guard to control it. The pilgrims who leave fastest, hurrying off down the road, are those who arrived first, on foot and barefoot, with their shoes on their heads or hanging from their staves. They go, their souls in perpetual praise, to carry the good news to the hamlets that had not been entirely emptied. And the priests? Some turned up at the spot, smiling, siding more with the curious spectators than with the pilgrims hungry for heavenly favours. Perhaps one or two could not quite hide the satisfaction that so often shows on the faces of the triumphant... It remains for those competent to judge to pronounce on the macabre dance of the sun, which today at Fátima made hosannas burst from the breasts of the faithful and naturally impressed, so reliable persons assured me, the freethinkers^* and other people with no religious concerns who flocked to the now celebrated heath.

All night long people went by on their way to Fátima. At 4 in the morning some people who had come in a motor car knocked at the door, and I seized the chance to leave the house with no regrets, walking 12 km in constant rain and a wind that cut your face; if it hadn't been for the brandy I had with me, I don't know whether I would even have reached the place of the miracle.

At 9, when I arrived, there were already people there who had spent the night in the rain. Until 2 o'clock^*, the time the miracle was due, the heavy rain never stopped, and everyone, refusing to budge from the spot, was soaked to the bone. I had a greatcoat, a pillow on my head and a blanket over everything, and still the water ran down my arms. Until 2 the stream of people and of vehicles of every kind, from every province, never stopped. Motor cars from Spain and France; women who had come on foot from the Algarve and the Alentejo; fishwives from Lisbon who must have spent 18 000^* on the journey. In short, a thing (2) that neither I nor you have ever seen in all our lives. The heath of the apparition is like my father's land at Casais, a plain surrounded by hills, and over those hills and the valley people were jostling each other as at a rally in the Rotunda¹³.

Everyone, myself included (although the anti-Catholic newspapers play down the numbers), reckoned more than a hundred and some thousand people, from every region of the country etc.

In spite of the ceaseless rain, choirs of girls singing sacred songs in tune could be heard on every side.

Until 2 o'clock, when the girls to whom Our Lady appeared arrived, the stream of people from every part of the country never stopped, some having walked 12 leagues^* to come and with 12 more to walk back.

The little girls knelt in the middle of the throng, where there was a rough altar, and I was only 100 metres from it, which was very lucky. The circle of people round the little girls was a kilometre long and a kilometre wide, and inside it was a dense mass of people. The rain kept on and on; the women's chins were even trembling, they were so wet. At this point the little girls told everyone to close their umbrellas, and the rain stopped immediately.

In the sky, which was completely overcast with clouds, a circle opened, in which the sun could be seen as if it were the moon on a moonlit night, and it had a silver halo round it.

The circle then took on in succession the colours blue, red, yellow and green, and at the same time all objects took on that colour. This lasted 1 minute, after which the sky clouded over again. Next, at the moment when Our Lady spoke with the little girls, for which she had come down from heaven, a dark cloud formed round the sun, which everyone could look at without hurting their eyes, taking on various colours and seeming to come down on us. Then, when Our Lady went back up to heaven, the cloud, which now looked like fire, rose again with the sun, and the cloud began to spin round the sun, while the sun, against the blue of the sky and still with its silver halo, began to shake violently.

Only by seeing this dazzling miracle can one form any idea of it, and I give you my word of honour that I became convinced it was a miracle, and I have as witnesses the 100 000 people who were there. I can also tell you that as soon as the miracle ended (it lasted 15^m. in all), the sun was shining as it does every day, so that nobody, as you know, can stare at it for even 1^m. While this phenomenon was taking place, pious exclamations rose into the air from 100 000 mouths. I had, as other people told me they did too, an extraordinary impression, together with a longing to know the impossible. When the miracle was over everyone woke up as if from a dream, and the impression passed.

(3) Our Lady told the little ones to have a small chapel built on that spot, and said that the war would end shortly and that the Portuguese^* would soon return. The man beside me, who didn't believe in anything, was gradually converted while the miracle was happening. At the end of it all everyone wanted to see the little girls; I made several attempts but got nowhere, and very nearly broke an arm. Everyone began to leave in perfect order, without any need for police.... I didn't see a single drunk, nor was there even one argument. I questioned several people about what had happened, and everyone told me and described it to me in the way I had seen it. For 4, 5, 6 hours (and that was only half of them, because the other half, which was from the west, left by another road) the crowd filed past, as on the avenue on a Sunday or at the exit of the bullring, all along the 12-kilometre road, so thickly that the motor cars had to keep pace with the carts. I set off for chão de maçãs, covering 22 kilometres to the sound of the hymns of the girls from Tomar, from the Alentejo, etc. There must have been 1000 vehicles in all, since the motor cars alone, on the eastern side, numbered over 100.

I firmly believe that It is the Truth; it was in that Faith that I went there. I had moments of distress and dismay there, which did not make me stop believing; they only grieved me greatly! That was when, at the solemn moment, I saw nothing of what the others were seeing! I saw nothing in the sun then; I saw nothing there that justified all the rest that I was seeing around me. But that spectacle, and everything I had been seeing since 10 o'clock in the morning, were enough for me to go on believing. But it was a struggle, because at the same time I was sad, a sadness which, without my wanting it, showed on my face, which made an impression on some people. We set off, and when we had gone a few kilometres by car, Marianna Ribeira⁵, who had seen everything and had heard the child's message (I was not close enough to hear the words, but I had been able to see that the child was talking very animatedly, in contrast with what I had seen before, as I shall tell you later), Marianna says to me: look at the sun, it still isn't normal. So I look, and I saw; I vouch that I saw, and I would swear to it if necessary. The sun was without brilliance, without colour, and I could stare at it. A light white cloud was passing. I said: let me see when the cloud has passed. It passed and, still staring at it, I saw it pass through different colours which I cannot specify, and it turned green, a really light green, like parsley green, with a golden ring around it, and spinning. Some very long rays seemed to touch the earth, and the sun seemed to be separated from the sky. Then the sky took on some pink glows; 2/ around the sun it changed to yellowish, and further off there were patches here and there. After some long moments, how long I cannot say, it became normal and I could no longer stare at it.

Why did I see it there and not at the place itself? Did it happen to anyone else besides me and Geni¹⁴, who saw nothing at the place and saw something afterwards, though not as much as I was seeing and describing to her, whereas Marianna was one of those almost in ecstasy! I do not know; what I know, what I vouch for, is that this is how it happened! As we had arrived early, we went over to Aljustrel^*; we went on foot and it was already raining hard. I saw the little girl, we spoke to her, we asked her some questions, which she did not seem willing to answer, although she smiled at us in a very simple, kindly way. When pressed, she told the story of the first Apparition, like someone repeating something already told many times, just as you had sent word of it to me. She said nothing more and we did not insist.

[…]

Now, when I pray, I see before me nothing but that rough arch of pine, the two oil lamps and a few bunches of flowers, and in front of that those people praying the rosary and singing the litany^*, only because they believed that Our Lady had been there and was going to be there!

As to what happened in this last respect on the recent 13th, a Saturday, we can bear witness, because we were there — not as a pilgrim, be it noted, but as a curious onlooker.

From 11 to half past one the rain was constant and driven by a strong wind: frankly rough and unpleasant weather, which the enormous multitude of many thousands of people bore in excellent humour, with no other shelter than umbrellas and vehicles — for not a single building is to be seen in the vicinity.

Thirty-seven and a half minutes past one — solar noon^* — was the announced time of the vision, with which the phenomena in the sky were expected to coincide.

At that hour it was still raining.

Minutes later the rain eased, and at a quarter to two it stopped completely.

The sun, hidden until then, showed itself between clouds that were moving with some speed. And as their density varied, so the veil they drew over the king of stars was more or less transparent.

Like all that multitude, we then looked at the sun with sustained attention and, through the clouds, we saw it take on new appearances: new to us, be it noted.

Sometimes surrounded by blood-red flames, at other times haloed with softened yellow or purple, at other times seeming to be animated by a very swift rotary motion, at other times again appearing to break away from the sky, to approach the earth and to radiate a strong heat.

Why deny it? These phenomena, which we had never seen before, impressed us strongly. In multitudes a collective psychology takes hold. And over almost the whole of that multitude there passed a great wave of faith, which was deeply moving.

[…]

In short, we came back from Fátima in the same state of mind in which we had gone there - in doubt.

I never thought I would be able to see a miracle, and you have no idea of the impression it made on me.

We left here on Thursday for Torres Novas, then we got into a carriage to go as far as the town, then we got on donkeys as far as Rodrigo, which is a little village where some people Belinha⁷ knows live; we spent the whole day on this journey, because everything is very far; we stayed there, and on Saturday, at 1^h in the morning⁸, we left for Fátima in a carriage (or rather a cart), in which we were jolted about the whole way — don't think it's near, for we only got there at half past 10 — and it had been raining since 4; we didn't have a dry thread left on us, but none of that matters, because what we then witnessed I shall never again see. I have never seen so many people. Now imagine all those people praying the rosary and then singing, all in the rain. At noon the little shepherdess arrives and asks them to close their umbrellas; at that very instant the rain stops, and we see the clouds draw apart, and the sun appears to us without brilliance and white, and in the middle a cross like a host^*; then the clouds turn golden, and one sees passing, like a very transparent cloud, the figure of Our Lady; the clouds turn blue, purple and green; the sun seems to come loose from the sky, it spins on itself and disappears, only to appear to us again immediately afterwards, shining as usual; the clouds move on and it turns into a lovely afternoon. Isn't it extraordinary? This is the main thing; I'll tell you about the other incidents later.

Invited by Dona Maria de Jesus, who in an exquisite refinement of kindness perhaps also wished to give a supposed unbeliever the chance to put belief to the test, I went to Fátima, a place of Moorish tradition^*, on the 13th of this month, the day on which, as had long been announced, the great sign was to occur that would have the power to turn unbelievers into believers. The day, unlike those before it, dawned rainy and cold.

And my enthusiasm, which was cold too, because it was not stirred by the warmth of an inner conviction, would have yielded to the obstacle which the harsh and inclement weather set against the journey, had it not occurred to me that withdrawing might hurt Dona Maria de Jesus, who with such obliging kindness had wished to reserve for me one of the much-coveted places⁴.

The rain, which had spared us from our departure from Tôrres at 9 o'clock until we got near Vila Nova de Ourem, then began to lash us , driven by the strong wind, soaking us and chilling us to the bone all the way to Fátima, where we took shelter in the parish priest's house to dry our clothes and have something to warm us.

Do not think that we were the only ones so courageously facing the inclement weather and the fury of the gale without any sign of cowardice or weakness. Tens, hundreds, thousands of people of all classes and social conditions we met along the long road, using every kind of transport, from the downcast donkey with drooping ears to the luxurious and comfortable motor car. In all of them faith in the unknown gave strength and courage, without a cry of revolt, without a gesture of discouragement. The gravity and composure to be seen on every face were a sure guarantee of the fervent belief that drove many, and of the respect that this naive and pure belief imposed on all.

Restored by the comforts and warm welcome of the hospitable home of the good Parish Priest, we went on to the theatre of the sensational and stupendous events, which is a good two kilometres from Fátima.

Meanwhile the rain went on relentlessly and the wind blew hard, and all one could see moving across the sky were the enchanted castles of dense black clouds. On reaching the place, by now memorable, I had the impression of a vast encampment where thousands of people were sheltering in huts roofed with slate. Such was the effect of thousands of open umbrellas...

As the road was flooded with the rain that was falling heavily, we did not get out of the car, and stayed there, where hundreds of carriages and motor cars were lined up over a distance of about a kilometre.

The distance separating us from the famous holm-oak shrub, which seems to have served, as it were, as a throne for the heavenly Vision, was probably not a hundred metres, and did not hinder our observing what was happening beside it. The multitude, reckoned at many thousands of people, was gathered with an order, a respect, a reverence that made a vivid impression on the minds of the spectators. Voices could be heard even where we were, distinct echoes of religious hymns with which the multitude was fortifying its faith as it waited for the solemn hour.

The three children had just arrived, the rough, unschooled protagonists of the grandest and most extraordinary spectacle I have ever been given to witness. On the car's clock the hand pointed to two o'clock: the august moment was approaching for which thousands of hearts rich in faith were yearning. The rain, which had eased off, then stopped altogether; and to the north I make out, in a gap in the sky, the clear blue breaking through the leaden clouds.

It occurred to my mind, already moved by what I was witnessing, that this rainy morning, with its sky laden with greyish clouds, might well be the mise-en-scène of a grand spectacle about to take place. The hand showed 2^h 5^m, then 2^h 10^m, and on earth the silence was broken only by faint echoes repeating the prayers being said beside the holm-oak shrub. While the multitude awaited in anxious, prayerful recollection the marvellous event that was to reinvigorate its faith, I was thinking of the most graceful way of extricating myself from the ridicule that the mockery of my friends and everyday companions would not spare me.

Already in some pious souls the fear was arising that the resounding event announced would not happen take place, when suddenly that whole immense multitude stirred and, with a telling hubbub of amazement and astonishment, raised their heads to the sky, where thousands of eyes gazed, aghast, at the sun in the open blue, visible to all, without the intensity of its rays wounding the retina and hindering vision, crowned with various colours, in a movement of swift rotation which, in the picturesque phrase of some, recalled a little firework wheel.

The spectators, looking at one another, appeared to each other yellow in colour, and on the reddish-orange horizon, wherever the eyes were fixed, shafts of soft light were seen, seeming to be placed at equal distances, and reflecting on the earth.

Such was the surprising phenomenon that everyone had occasion to observe, and which drew from some a sincere confession of ardent faith, and threw others, in whom the scorching wind of scepticism had withered the flower of belief, into a benevolent expectation.

There were unbelievers there, and some even with traces of atheism, who declared themselves won over before the power that worked such a prodigy.

There you have, my good Isabelinha, what I observed, and with me thousands of people.

[…]

It should also be noted that, the vision over, on the 13th, Lúcia, one of the three children who claim that the Virgin appeared to them, at a given moment turned to the people and tells them that the Virgin had ordered them to look at the sun, where the announced sign was going to be produced. Immediately the sun, which until then had remained covered, appears and shows itself in the manner described.

The evening before, I went to stay at the house of my friend Antonio Pereira das Neves, correspondent of the Mensageiro, at Quinta da Sardinha³, where this friend of ours and his most excellent wife treated me with every kindness, of which I am not worthy. At 4 o'clock I set off on foot for Fátima, to witness the miraculous apparition which the little girls said would be the last.

Crossing the hills, I had the chance to see the great pilgrimage of devotees making their way from every direction to reach the appointed place as quickly as possible. The sight is sublime: women with sacks on their heads, in their bright Sunday clothes, on foot, on horseback, etc..

I would ask where they came from, and... on hearing them name their villages I marvelled that those souls came from so far away to witness what two little children vouched for!...

How lovely it was to see so many people winding their way across the hills! Sublime! You had to see it to appreciate the effect of so great a pilgrimage.

After going through Loureira⁴ and Moita⁵, I make out some 200 metres away the road that runs to Vila Nova de Ourem by way of Reguengo do Fétal⁶ and other villages. Carriages were already there in great numbers: carts, calèches, automobiles, bicycles, and every kind and shape of vehicle, some of them peculiar, carrying believers and non-believers in what was about to be witnessed.

The rain begins to fall, growing heavier little by little; umbrellas went up, and soon the rain, whipped by the wind, was soaking the legs of those sheltering under umbrellas and turning into drowned rats those who had not come prepared for this mishap. Everyone looked up at the sky to see whether there was any hope of the storm passing, but the murk kept closing in. No one budged from where they were; hymns to the Virgin could be heard all the time, and the stream of pilgrims kept growing!

It was one o'clock (official time^*), and everyone was anxiously awaiting the little girls. I was near an enormous holm oak, shivering with cold and soaked to the bone. Then, I don't know how, a hare starts up and dodges this way and that, fleeing from the people chasing it, until it succumbs to a blow from a stick — with not even one hair of it for each of those chasing it!

I look ahead and see an enormous line of people accompanying the little girls to the small holm oak where they say Our Lady appeared to them — a holm oak of which only a fragment of the trunk, 10 centimetres high, is left above the ground, since people have stripped it for souvenirs.

One of the little girls says: Our Lady is there already! Close your umbrellas and pray...

The rain stops, the clouds race along at great speed and the Sun appears, brilliant, spreading its luminous rays over the onlookers.

Somehow I see everyone take off their hats and kneel. It was 2.10 p.m., official time.

I hear various prayers, supplications to the Virgin and Most Holy Mother, and I see the faces of the enormous crowd turn a deep pink, then change to an indigo blue and then to a cadaverous yellow!!

I don't know what this meant, and I did not want to stare at the Sun, so that it could not be put down to an optical illusion.

But in front of me there was a lady with a white felt hat, which served me as a mirror of what was happening in the king of stars. This lasted some 20 minutes. Beside me I heard weeping, various supplications, and people saying that the Sun was spinning round and looked like a firework wheel!

Shortly afterwards the little girls told what Our Lady had said to them:

— The war is ending any day now; soon our soldiers will return to Portugal; people must be good to one another; pray the rosary and build a chapel, for I am the Lady of the Rosary.

The little girls are carried in triumph through the crowd back to their parents' homes, and the onlookers begin to leave for their villages, feeling that the time they had spent standing firm in all the rain and wind of the hills had been well spent!

And I was left with a foolish look on my face, staring at all this, unable to explain so imposing a phenomenon.

If it were repeated tomorrow, I would be there again, for I do not regret having witnessed what I had never witnessed before.

What really amazes me is that, though I had been all wet moments before, I noticed that I was already dry! Was it a miracle? I don't think so. What I do think is that the same happened to other people too.

So many thousands of people together, and so much respect, I have never seen, for no police, republican guard or military force was needed to keep order! Was it a miracle? I don't know.

So many carriages, coaches, carts, automobiles, bicycles, etc. without a single accident! Was it a miracle? I don't know.

What I do know is that the event happened, and that people flocked there from all the most distant parts, brought by the words of two little children and not by advertisements, rockets or bands!

I cannot find words to describe what happened. I had to struggle with difficulties of every kind to go to Fátima, but I managed it, and I thank God for it.

The site of the Apparitions is in the middle of the heath, and the landscape is as Portuguese as can be.

We arrived towards 10 o'clock⁷, in torrential rain that soaked us to the bone. The crowd was astounding. The newspapers speak of 50,000 people; I do not doubt there were more. No one showed any bad temper about the weather; not a bad word was heard. People were praying aloud and singing. Towards 1 o'clock I went down from the road into the field and stood close to the very rough little altar set up at the place of the apparition, but I never managed to see the little girls. As soon as they arrived they told people to close their umbrellas, and at once the rain stopped, and the sun, the everyday sun, broke through the grey veil that had covered the sky all morning. We went on praying. I ask the time. Someone answers: “It's a little after half past 1”. So we are right at solar noon^*. A few minutes later I hear something like a gigantic sigh, and someone says to me: “Look at the sun”. At first I noticed nothing, but seconds later I see it as if it were the moon, of a very pale silvery blue; from then on the sun is tinged green, purple, yellow, blue, but it always remains without rays. It throws out, far off, rolls of smoke, so to speak, of whatever colour it is showing, but the shape of the disc is perfect and that disc spins in a dizzying way, and at a certain point the sun came down. Later it shows itself further to the right and then further to the left, or vice versa. At one moment the disc takes on a vivid rose colour; behind each hill there rises something like a veil of the same colour. Fields and crowd, everything reflects it.

There are no words to describe such splendour. I have thought a great deal about the words of the Church: “Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising?”^* And the people? The people weep, cry out, implore Our Lady and Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament^*. There is a mixture of trust, joy and fear. Like everyone, I feel that we are in the very midst of the supernatural, and I can only say like the others: “Our Lady, help us”. I do not know how long it lasted, but I heard people say 4 minutes. It seemed to me much longer.

[…]

At the moment when the sun came down, the clamour of the crowd was much greater; so everyone saw it at the same time, and near me a man was crying out in terror: "Most Holy Virgin, help us, we are all going to die here. Forgive our sins!"

So I left Coimbra at midnight between 12 and 13 October with two friends of mine, Dona Ermelinda Gomes Ribeiro and Dona Matilde Forjaz de Sampaio, taking seats on the train in 3rd class, in fulfilment of a vow, and going as far as Chão de Maçãs, where we took a stagecoach that brought us to Vila Nova de Ourém.

We arrived there at 7 in the morning, and went to find the reverend parish priest⁶ so that he could give us holy communion.

We were able to attend Mass, at which there were a good many people, and afterwards we went to have a small meal from the provisions we had brought. We had to walk some 18 kilometres, uphill. The difficulty of the road did not dishearten us. We set off along it resolutely, saying the rosary together aloud. People passing by took off their hats as a sign of respect. There was an enormous stream of motor cars, carriages of every kind, bicycles and riding animals; and a great many people were going on foot, as we were.

It was suffocatingly hot, and a storm was threatening, for many clouds were piling up in the sky.

The passengers of a small carriage that passed us, good people who noticed how tired we felt, offered to carry our travelling bags for us, a favour we gratefully accepted, trusting in their honesty, although we did not know them. A short while later it began to rain, and the rain grew heavier, driven by a stiff and bitterly cold wind, so that we were soon as wet and soaked through as if we were coming out of a bath.

The road seemed to have no end; a zigzag route, many people wet like us, but always walking on, moved by the same desire, the same longing to reach the place of the apparition in time.

At half past twelve we reached the spot, in good spirits in spite of everything. The spectacle was imposing!

Before us lay a small valley, quite arid, without a single house; thousands of umbrellas, open over people's heads, gave the impression of a real encampment. The multitude was packed tight; torrents of water fell on it, and yet nobody withdrew. The ground around the place of the apparition was clayey and waterlogged. At the spot there stood out a sort of rough portico, formed of three dressed beams; here and there small oak bushes, and all around thousands of people of every class and condition.

We took our place among the multitude and began to say the rosary together aloud, singing the Ave of Lourdes^*, in which the people and the ladies joined, and the Queremos Deus^*, and reciting the prayer of St. Bernard^*, etc.

The rain did not stop for an instant; people shivered with cold, for the wind was cutting. Meanwhile we hear people say: they're bringing the little shepherd girls!

Indeed some men were carrying in their arms the children, dressed in light blue, with veils of white tulle held in place by wreaths of white roses and green foliage.

I look at my companion, Dona Ermelinda Gomes Ribeiro, and notice in her a look of great suffering. I ask her what is wrong, and she tells me she feels a stitch so sharp that it scarcely lets her breathe. A sick lady, with a fever almost every day, wet as she was, with her feet on the waterlogged ground, and with no means of transport there to take us to a place where she could be cared for, her state distressed me. I thought of massaging her over the pleura, which she accepted; but she was so cold, so wet, that I feared it would do no good.

I confess that by then I had no hope left of seeing the miracle. As the spot was still a good way from the road, we went back to the road to look for someone who would charitably give us a place in a motor car or carriage for my friend, for I greatly feared she would not stand the journey if she had to make it on foot again.

On the road, which we reached with our skirts covered in red clay, no motor car or carriage would spare us a place, either for payment or as a favour.

We were feeling thoroughly disheartened when suddenly cries went up on every side: Miracle! Look at the sun! The rain had stopped as if by magic; umbrellas were closed; we felt a warmth as if we were entering a heated hothouse, and the disc of the sun began to appear, clearly visible through the greyish layer that covered the whole sky. The heat increased, and the sun seemed to come down, lower and lower, showing new and varied hues. We saw what looked like a silvery veil, rounded like the full moon; shortly afterwards it turned bright purple, then red, then emerald green, and finally took on its original colour.

Cries rang out on every side as something like a snow-white form, shining but not hurting the retina, detached itself from the sun, came towards us, went back to the sun, and finally hid among the clouds for the third time. Everyone was weeping, and from many lips came prayers, supplications and acts of faith.

It is a week today since I got back to Lisbon from Fatima, where I went to see the great miracle! It is impossible to describe to you what we all saw.

[…]

It was raining torrentially and everyone stood their ground until 2 o'clock, or solar noon^*, the moment when the clouds drew apart to either side, leaving the sun uncovered, and immediately rolls of very light clouds begin to pass in front of the sun, yellow as gold, purple, carnation-coloured, etc.

At this the sun seemed to come loose and came down all all of a sudden; a moment of terror.

At this it begins to rotate at incalculable speed.

Suddenly it is the moon that is there, but that is only a moment; it turns into the Sacred Host, even the cross being visible as if hollowed into that opaque matter the colour of very white wheat flour.

I saw it like that in the void, and around it a marvellous crown of those clouds in various colours. A spectacle of astounding beauty: you cannot imagine how delicate the tones were, or with what tenderness God looked upon our land at that moment; we felt loved beyond all measure.

Everyone saw it, nearly 100,000 people.

People took on the colours of the clouds — it was interesting to see; the sun, shining from behind, seemed to send its light through as if through coloured glass.

All this was happening while Our Lady was coming down to earth to speak to little Lucia.

All three children (1 little boy and 2 little girls) see, but only the eldest, 10 years old, speaks.

Our Lady became visible to some people; I was not favoured with that grace; I did not need it in order to believe.

[…]

Around the valley chosen for so many marvels, as a simple ornament and with the greatest symmetry, patches in the the three preferred²⁰ colours appeared one after another.

[…]

I was enormously moved when I saw so great and so holy a manifestation of faith. What courage and persistence to face such a storm without drawing back, without wine; admirable, in short. There was not one policeman, there was nothing, nothing, but the respect and the holy contentment with which everyone was filled.

At one moment when it was raining hard, the little girl said to close the umbrellas; the umbrellas were closed and the rain stopped.

Our Lady told Lucia that Saint Joseph had come to bless the people, and that all the believers (present there) were forgiven up to that moment.

That place was blessed; people and animals, everything was blessed.

At that moment there was a great brightness.

As the "Liberdade" has as yet said nothing on the subject, we shall relate it as an eyewitness. We arrived at the spot four or five minutes before the supposed vision. There were nearly forty thousand people there, come from every part of the country. Someone pointed out to us a spot marked by a flag hoisted on a pole, saying it was there that the three little shepherd girls were waiting for the apparition. Shortly afterwards the enormous crowd bares its heads. All gaze at the sky, still heavy with clouds, in search of the supernatural, of the prodigious sign. It seems the little shepherd girls had knelt, confirming once more that the Virgin had appeared to them.

Perhaps four minutes had passed when the sun, like a Catherine wheel which, once lit, makes a luminous circle in the darkness of the night, drove away fairly quickly the clouds that veiled it, also making a circle, and allowed us to observe a phenomenon that seemed extraordinary to everyone. The sun, now free of clouds, did not cast its rays upon the earth, but seemed wrapped in flames of a pale colour. Suddenly it loses all that light or those flames, and there appears to us a plate of dull silver, as the "Seculo" rightly said, with a rapid and clearly visible rotating movement, even seeming to draw nearer to the earth. One could gaze at it indefinitely without discomfort to the eyes.

A little later it caught fire, if I may put it that way, and was seen once more wrapped in pink flames, again without casting rays upon the earth.

After perhaps a minute it lost its light and flames again, and the plate was seen once more, now very white, with the same very rapid rotating movement.

Yet a third time the sun, which seemed to make abrupt, jerky movements, was wrapped in bluish flames, followed by the loss of light and the rotating movement of the plate. The phenomenon was over.

When the sun afterwards had its light again, our eyes could no longer gaze at its luminous rays. The multitude, kneeling in the mud, drowned in tears, cried out in distress, eyes fixed on the sky and hands raised. Some were calling on Our Lady to help them; others, confessing themselves great sinners, were begging for mercy. The scene was truly impressive.

We were also impressed by the coincidence of the phenomenon with the hour of the vision or supposed apparition. And that impression grew stronger when the Rev. Cardoso, of Portalegre⁴, who during the vision was beside the little shepherd girls, told us that the eldest, while still on her knees beside the holm-oak shrub, said to all who surrounded her: — Look at the sun now! — and the solar phenomenon followed immediately.

This agrees with the answer she gave me when I asked her whether the apparition had taken place during the phenomenon. "No," she answered; "the Lady had already disappeared ".

The crowd begins to disperse. But a good part of it follows the little shepherd girls, as a moth follows the light. Everyone wants to see them and ask questions, which they answer readily. Postcards with their portraits were sold. And someone even thought of having prints made, on which the little shepherd girl already figures on her knees, with the image of Our Lady above.

All that remains is the trunk of the holm-oak shrub, which the little shepherd girls say served as a pedestal for the Mother of God during the apparitions.

Although the newspapers have already told it, I shall repeat what I saw, and what Uncle Vasco and all those who went with me saw, as well as all those who spoke with us.

I will begin by saying that it was an imposing and moving sight to see 50,000 people gathered there, of all ages and all social classes, animated by the same faith, without thinking or worrying about the rain and the dreadful mud, without the slightest accident or disorder, all in the greatest calm, respect and emotion. We did not manage to get near the oak tree because many people had been there since the day before, but we were close by, although we could not see what the little girls were doing, which I very much regret. Shortly before the hour at which Our Lady was to appear, the rain stopped as if by magic and the sun came out; shortly afterwards it was hidden again; it seemed like a signal. Shortly afterwards we noticed something that impressed us: the faces of the people in front of us were in shadow on the side where the sun was (although it was hidden) and lit up on the opposite side, that is, the side where the oak tree was! By this I do not mean that I saw any glow; that I did not see. While we were noticing this, and also a sort of smoke or mist that could be seen above the heads of the people near there, it was moving to hear the hymns that everyone was singing on all sides, and little by little everyone took off their hats. Suddenly the sun appears again, everyone begins to turn round and cry out; we held out for some time, but they insisted so much that we looked, and saw that one could gaze at the sun without any effort. It was a white disc, it looked like a host^*; suddenly it changed into a black disc, surrounded by a golden ring, and this black disc begins to spin round on itself, throwing out from time to time luminous rays, or rather flashes of lightning.

It turned white again and then was covered by a golden cloud! — You cannot imagine the shivers it sent down one's spine; the emotion, how people wept, what exclamations there were!

Thus it was that, on the famous and long-awaited day, thousands upon thousands of people flocked to Fátima from near and far, braving all the obstacles and hardships of travel, some trudging leagues in sun and rain, others conveyed in the most varied vehicles, from the almost prehistoric to the latest marvellous models of motor car, and many more who endured the discomforts of the third-class carriages of the trains, in which, to cover what are nowadays relatively short distances, long hours and even days and nights are lost! I saw groups of men and women, patiently, as if rapt in a dream, making their way on the eve towards the famous spot, singing sacred hymns and walking barefoot to their rhythm and to the cadenced recitation of the rosary, without being troubled, deterred or driven to despair by the almost sudden change in the weather, when the downpours turned the dusty roads into deep mires and the mildness of autumn gave way, for a day, to the harshest rigours of winter... I saw the crowd, now pressed around the little tree of the miracle and stripping it of its branches to keep them as relics, now spread out over the vast heath which the Leiria road crosses and overlooks and which the most picturesque and motley throng of carriages and people cluttered on that memorable day, awaiting the supernatural manifestations in the best of order, without fearing that the wintry weather would spoil them, diminishing their splendour and majesty... I saw that discouragement did not invade souls, that confidence remained alive and ardent despite the unexpected setbacks, that the composure of the crowd, in which country folk were in great abundance, was perfect, and that the children, privileged in their own estimation, were received with demonstrations of the most intense affection by that people, who knelt, uncovered their heads and prayed at their bidding as the hour of the "miracle" approached, the hour of the "perceptible sign", the mystic and longed-for hour of contact between heaven and earth...

And, when I no longer imagined that I would see anything more impressive than that noisy but peaceful crowd, animated by the same obsessive idea and moved by the same powerful yearning, what did I still see that was truly strange on the heath of Fátima? The rain stops falling at the foretold hour; the dense mass of clouds breaks apart, and the king of stars — a disc of dull silver — appears at the very zenith and begins to dance a violent and convulsive dance, which a great number of people imagined to be a serpentine dance^*, so beautiful and glittering were the colours that successively covered the surface of the sun...

A miracle, as the people cried; a natural phenomenon, as the learned say? I do not care to know that now, only to tell you what I saw...

The next day, the 13th, we went first thing in the morning to the place of the apparition. Incidentally, I am pleased to say that Fátima is a small, rather pretty village of perhaps a hundred-odd households.

By half past eight the road to the field of the apparition was already lined with carriages, motor cars, carts, donkeys and many people on foot. It must be 2 kilometres from Fátima to the site of the phenomenon.

When we got there, our carriage drew off to the side of the road, as others did, to make way for the traffic. Even at that hour there was an immense crowd. From inside the glazed coupé we faced the vast field, shaped like a basin, raised at the sides and sunken in the centre, forming an enormous bowl, with groups here and there, and a long valley, which made us think the Valley of Josaphat^* must look like this!

There, far off, to one side, we could see many people surrounding the place of the apparition, marked by 2 wooden posts with a cross in the centre and 2 lanterns on the posts.

The 13th dawned rainy, with a leaden sky and wind.

At 9 or half past it grew darker and rained harder, and it seemed to us the day could not improve. As the rain kept on, at 11 o'clock we resolved to leave our hothouse and lookout..., and we went along with the groups of pilgrims towards the place that some little shepherds had announced as the stage of supernatural scenes. At noon the 3 little shepherds arrived. Lúcia, aged 10 or 11, is the one who speaks; the others, Jacinta, the youngest, and Francisco, who are brother and sister and cousins of Lúcia, said they had seen a very beautiful Lady, dressed all in white, with a cloud at her feet.

A few minutes after the little shepherds arrived the rain stopped, and the sky, dark until then, precisely at the hour (it must have been 1 in the afternoon) at which the 3 astronomers had announced the most phenomenal event that could happen, cleared a little opposite the place of the announced apparition, so that almost all eyes instinctively fixed on that same spot.

A truly impressive scene, witnessed by 40,000 to 50,000 people – that was the rough estimate!

I do not affirm what I did not see. We did not see Our Lady, nor do we consider ourselves worthy of it. But in the sun alone we saw the affirmation of a phenomenon, of a supernatural occurrence!

How it happened and where it came from, we cannot explain. But the fact occurred, and against facts there are no arguments.

As I have said, at 1 o'clock the sky cleared where the cloud had moved aside; and imagine our astonishment when a silvery globe appeared, turning slightly, with the clouds crossing it here and there! This happened 3 times, at intervals of perhaps 3 to 4 minutes.

At that moment, behind us, the scene of the little shepherds was taking place beside the holm oak; we stayed 7 or 10 metres from that spot to escape the throng. The eldest of the little shepherd girls called for silence at this point, and the rest of the scene there was for the 3 alone! After this charming rehearsal or prelude to the King-Star^* – which was as if eclipsed by the clouds, though not entirely hidden – there suddenly broke out, in all its splendour and quite unlike anything usual, a very brilliant red cloud or flame that covered it; and after a few moments that globe or sphere was shaking nervously as if driven by electricity. It seemed to swell and to want to plunge down or speak to the earth, to announce an event of rejoicing and terror!

Then a yellow, golden cloud changed the scene; and so this reality, which to mortals had seemed a dream, gradually faded away! I wish I could describe this unique, marvellous event in polished phrases; I confine myself to narrating it with the simple expression of the truth, as we witnessed it.

[…]

Little did we think that we would witness it, at the moment when the nervous sun held the audience in suspense. It seemed to be coming towards the earth, announcing the miracle and greeting the Queen of Heaven and of the universe, who at those moments was speaking to the 3 little shepherds, as the three children spontaneously and intemerately⁶ affirm.

I believe, and nothing makes me averse to believing, in view of what I saw. But, as my voice is weak and feeble in the desert, let us hope that other stronger and more authoritative voices will confirm it.

As soon as the King-Star had returned to normal, everyone withdrew in the best order and in silence, subdued by the truth of the facts! Incidents: the vast field of the miracle was all clay, divided into plots by loose stone walls.

As it had rained, it had turned to mud. As soon as I got out of the carriage I sank my boots into the mud and my feet were so heavy that I thought I could not walk! On we went, on and on, until we stopped quite near the holm oak, already cut down and stripped, whose little twigs were being given to the devout, just as our brothers who go to the front^* take keepsakes and relics of their families.

It moved us, however, to see ladies like ourselves in little white shoes, thinking they would find dry, firm ground, where there was only shifting clay! A pity they did not climb higher... treading the mud of the earth with indifference!

[…]

Nor does it surprise us that among thousands of people there should be someone like our coachman, who had stayed by the carriage at the top of the valley. I asked him:

– Well, Mr Manuel, did you like it, and did you see the sun?...

It seems that at that moment he was feeding the horses! A great materialist (though a very good person besides)...

At last, as 13 Oct. was approaching and I had a great desire, an immense desire, to go to Fatima, the place of the miracle, we arranged, my sister, some cousins and some friends, to go all together. There is no railway as far as the village, and from the village itself to the place of the apparition it is still quite far. So we hired a large motor car and set off bravely from Lisbon at 2 o'clock in the morning, so as to be at the appointed place at noon. We travelled all night, and at 10 o'clock we were at the place of the apparition. There was already an enormous crowd waiting; it has been calculated that more than 50,000 people were there. All through the night and the morning we had met hundreds of carriages, people on foot, on horseback, on donkeys, in short every possible vehicle; and I assure you there were some truly prehistoric ones. It made one laugh a little, but at the same time it was touching to see so many people heading for the same place to attend the apparition of the Virgin. I kept saying that this in itself was already a real miracle: at the voice of these poor children so many thousands of people were leaving their homes, their business, to hasten there, pray and sing hymns. It was pouring with rain, a rain such as we do not often have in October, when the weather is still so fine; and yet not a single person complained; there we were in the rain, waiting! One heard something like the sound of the sea, and it was all those people praying aloud and singing hymns.

At last at noon a great murmur and cheering are heard. It was the children arriving, accompanied by the local doctor, who has taken them under his protection.

But I was telling you about the moment when the children arrived at the place where the Blessed Virgin appears to them. This place is marked by a rustic altar topped by a cross, with two lamps burning; it is near an olive tree^*, or rather it was an olive tree, but nothing remains of it now but a stump almost level with the ground; people have torn off the leaves, the branches, everything, out of devotion.

Father, it is exactly noon, and the rain, which was falling in torrents, suddenly stops; the children are kneeling near the cross and praying, their little faces transfigured and covered with tears. Then all of a sudden a clamour is heard rising from thousands of mouths; all the people cry out: "Miracle, miracle, praised be Jesus Christ, praised be the Most Holy Virgin". And the sun, which can be looked at directly and which looks like a metal disc without rays, begins to turn on itself and to rise and fall several times. That is what was being said beside me, and what thousands of people affirm they saw. I myself did not see it; I was indeed able to look straight at the sun, and I was terribly moved to hear everyone proclaim that extraordinary signs could be seen in the sky. I believe that Our Lord did not find me worthy to see these phenomena, but in my soul I had no need to see them in order to believe in the apparition of the Blessed Virgin to the children. Two of my cousins who were near me were beside themselves and affirmed that they saw the sun exactly like a firework spinning dizzily. Well, this lasted a few minutes, then the clouds covered the sun again; the children got up and the whole crowd rushed at them to hear them speak.

I was able to see from afar one of the little girls in the arms of a gentleman. I did not hear what she was saying, but it was reported that she said this: "The Blessed Virgin has blessed everyone, she wants people to pray, to do penance and to build at this spot a chapel in honour of the Virgin of the Rosary.

The alms are so abundant that the chapel is going to be started straight away, and this spot, utterly unknown a few months ago, has suddenly become famous. As I told you, more than 50,000 people were gathered there on 13 Oct.; and all those people left happy and convinced that the Blessed Virgin had deigned to come down for a moment upon our poor Portugal. I, for my part, am sure of it. Tell me, Father, what you make of all this. I am happy to have been able to witness such a manifestation of faith and religion.

Near me an old peasant kept crying out: "Blessed Virgin, my son, my little child, meu filhinho in Portuguese;" It is an expression that cannot be translated well, but it is so touching; no doubt his son is at the war, and the poor old man, feeling the Blessed Virgin so close, was asking her to protect him.

I was among the first to arrive there, and among the last to withdraw. I never felt so great a joy and never so pure a satisfaction of soul. From the beginning, and in spite of the continual and troublesome rain, I noticed at once that all of us, in a communion of feelings and ideas, were contented and hopeful; not a gesture of despair or faintness, not a word of displeasure or impropriety. I am certain, my dear friend, that it could have rained or been the worst possible weather and nobody would have budged from there; and in spite of the crowd you saw, it seemed as though we already knew one another, that we were friends and that we all wished for the well-being of the others. Next to me and under our umbrella various people passed, sheltering and talking as if we had known one another for a long time and were old friends.

Among them appeared an old fellow (the father of Joaquim of Maceira) a good 70 years old, who had already walked five leagues^* and had to walk them all again. I asked whether he was worn out by the journey and the rain, but I could get no other answer from the friendly, likeable old man than “He who could, gave the orders”, and it seems to me that his “He who can, commands”^* summed up the attitude of almost all of us who were there; hence our stoicism and perseverance.

For that reason, and in spite of everything, we were expecting something, though some, and I one of them, were anxious and, to tell the truth, somewhat afraid that nothing would happen.

Not everyone has the deep faith of true believers. I will tell you more, my friend: my companion, Joaquim Sacristão of “Turquel”, had in his hand a watch set to sun time^*, and we watched the time pass with some unease.

Now, my friend, let whoever can describe it; I cannot. It must have been between 12.35 and 12.40 by my friend's trusty watch when I saw with complete clarity — for the sunlight let us look at the sun as much as we liked — the sun and the clouds around it tremble hesitantly, like someone obeying a higher will and force that had at that moment laid hold of it and was compelling it to obey. It gave me the impression of someone being given a shake and made to listen. Have no doubt that there was a solar phenomenon on that occasion, with a greater or lesser display of various colours; I saw only a very pronounced yellow, and I thought I saw a black colour beneath the solar disc, but this I cannot vouch for.

More I cannot explain to you, though I felt it and still feel it today, so much so that I shall never again spend such pleasant moments.

Did you not notice our joy and satisfaction after the event? We all asked one another, and only one single person told me they had not seen it. Because of what happened before: the good behaviour of so many people, the prayers, the hymns, everyone's confidence, the faith that showed in their faces, the solar phenomenon that took place, the joy, the friendship that united us all in those moments and even during our stay there, the reverence of the kneeling and fervent crowd, the tears of inner contentment, the fact that there was not the slightest quarrel, theft or accident — because of all this, my friend, and above all because of the solar phenomenon I saw, I believe that there was at Fátima on 13 September⁶ 1917 so extraordinary an event that, until science explains it to me, it is solely and exclusively the work of God.

[…]

I saw the children arrive and leave, and went as far as their house, which my family went into.

I did not go in, nor do I approve of all the silly and tiresome questions that the many people who constantly sought them out, and still do, put to the poor children.

Otherwise, just some poor peasant girls, awkward in their new clothes and crowns of flowers.