So we went there on 13 August. We left home at half past nine in the morning; the day was fine but not very hot, the temperature even pleasant. We set off moved, apprehensive and recollected, expecting I hardly know what. After a drive of nearly 3 hours by motor car we at last reached Fatima, and there we were told that the place of the apparition was at the Cova da Iria, some three kilometres from the village, and we made our way there. The crowd was already large when we arrived. In Fátima a countrywoman had told us: “you'll know at once where it is, you'll see on your right a world of people, that's it.” And so it was. We left the car on the road and walked a few metres to the spot where the crowd was thickest, and we could hear the Lourdes Ave* being sung.
We asked whether the children had arrived yet, for it was difficult to see who was around the holm-oak shrub, the bu-[1v]sh on which, so they said, the apparition alighted.
They told us no, saying that as the apparition would only take place between noon and one o'clock, the children would only come near that hour. We argued that as it was already nearly one o'clock, the children ought to be there already. “What time are you going by?” a countrywoman asks us. “Is it the modern time? ... Neither the Lady nor the little girls go by that, but by the old time*, which is the true one.” — While we waited we went about talking with the people and asking those who had already been there in the previous months what usually happened. They told us that at the appointed hour the sun would be veiled by light clouds, and that a mist would envelop the bush on which Our Lady, coming down from a cloud, would alight to speak with the children.
Little by little we came across several people we knew in the crowd, and even some of our female relatives. We all gathered together and went on gathering information and commenting on it, finding some of it rather extraordinary and some of it implausible.
At this point a man appears telling us that the children would not be coming, because they had been arrested by the municipal administrator* and taken by him to Villa Nova d’Ourem. At first nobody believes it; it is thought to be a joke in bad taste on the man's part, but he asserts it so insistently that a lady offers to go to Fatima in her motor car to find out what had happened there. She came back, and in her face we all see that the news is true. The administrator, having offered to take the children to the Cova da Iria after interrogating them, treacherously takes them under arrest to Villa Nova d’Ourem. By what right? [2] What had the children done to be arrested?... nothing; it was the persecution that was beginning.
Everyone protests, everyone is indignant, but it is an orderly protest, and although there are a great many people there, some 5 to 6 thousand, nobody thinks of rising up or fighting. Those who were there were believers, people full of faith, not brawlers.
Of the people present, many think of going away, but from the people above all this cry goes up: “Let us stay and wait, the hour has not yet come, and if this is a thing from Heaven it will show itself, even though the children have been arrested, for against the power of God and of the Virgin, the authorities can do nothing”.
We admire the people's faith, and we all stay, full of anxiety, waiting for the announced hour.
As we had forgotten the 37 minutes by which the clocks had long since been put forward*, at 2 o'clock we were all already thinking of leaving, believing that, since the children were absent, nothing out of the ordinary would happen.
But at that very moment we heard an enormous murmur, which made us all turn round, and we were then privileged to witness the most moving display of faith we had ever seen.
The people, all falling on their knees, with hands and eyes raised to Heaven, implored God and the Virgin; the men, and they were the majority, bareheaded, kneeling on the ground, let their tears flow freely. It was truly impressive.
Everyone was looking at the sky, which was covered by a light cloud, like the finest white lace, rosy in places. The sun, which for an instant hid itself completely, left us lit by a strange light, with yellow patches to be seen on the ground and on all of us, and a great drop in temperature, as happens when there is an [2v] eclipse of the sun. Someone says: — ‘Look at the mist around the holm-oak shrub!’ We looked and indeed it was there; was it really a mist? was it smoke? was it dust?... it could have been any of these things, but to me it seemed more like smoke which, coming out as if from a censer, rose from the ground in light spirals and at once dissolved around the bush.
Some said it was dust raised by a light breeze, but how could one explain that the breeze blew only in that spot, and that it always happened so on the 13th of each month?! ... By then the sun had already regained all its former brightness. Suddenly a man from Lapas (a place not far from Torres Novas), who had gone there only to please his wife and who did not believe the miracle possible, cries out bathed in tears: “I see, I see the Lady!!! Look, in this direction, between those two clouds, don't you see her?” We all looked in the direction indicated but... none of us saw anything more than the clouds. Nevertheless the man, full of faith, kept saying: “Arrest me if you like, but I shall always say what I saw”!
His wife saw nothing, but she was radiant that it was her husband who had seen, for he did not believe; she believed, she did not need to see.
Did this man really see something, or was it mere suggestion? — He was neither an old man nor a child; he was a man of about forty, therefore in the full strength of life and for that reason perhaps less apt to be influenced by suggestion. He was not an atheist, for he had come from his home to Bairro, a place close by, to hear a sermon, but he was an unbeliever in the miracle.
Other ordinary people said they had seen, but what did they see? I do not know, but of those I spoke with, the one who impressed me most was the man from Lapas.
[…]
So we came back from Fátima convinced that something out of the ordinary had taken place. An eclipse of the sun is a known fact, even a common one if you like, but how is one to explain that in four consecutive months it always took place on the same day and at the same hour, without science having announced it? And that mist which was seen only in that spot?
Fomos pois ali no dia 13 de Agosto. Sahimos de casa às 9 1/2 da manhã; o dia estava bonito, mas não muito quente, havia até uma temperatura agradavel. Iamos commovidos, aprehensivos, recolhidos, esperando nem eu sei bem o quê. Depois de um passeio de perto de 3 horas de automovel, chegámos emfim a Fatima, e ali nos disseram que o local da apparição era na Cova da Iria, a uns trez kilometros da povoação, para onde nos dirigimos. Era já grande a agglomeração de gente quando ali chegámos. Na Fátima uma mulher do povo tinha-nos dito: “logo sabem onde é, hão de ver à sua direita um mundo de gente, é ahi.” E assim era. Deixámos o carro na estrada e percorremos a pé alguns metros até ao sitio onde a multidão era mais compacta, ouvindo-se cantar o Avé de Lourdes.
Indagamos se as creanças já tinham chegado pois difficil era ver quem rodeiava a carrasqueira, arbus-[1v]to, onde segundo diziam pousava a apparição.
Responderam-nos negativamente, dizendo-nos que como a apparição só teria logar do meio dia para a uma, as creanças só viriam perto d’essa hora. Alegámos que sendo já perto de uma hora, as creanças já deveriam ali estar. “Por que horas se regulam?” (pergunta-nos uma mulher do povo) é pelas modernas? ... Nem a Senhora nem as meninas se regulam por ellas, mas sim pelas antigas, que são as verdadeiras”. — Emquanto esperavamos fômos conversando com o povo e indagando dos que já nos mezes anteriores ali tinham ido, o que costumava passar-se. Disseram-nos que á hora indicada o sol se encobriria por leves nuvens, e que um nevoeiro envolveria o arbusto sobre o qual, Nossa Senhora, descendo de uma nuvem, pousaria a fallar com as creanças.
A pouco e pouco fômos encontrando entre a multidão varias pessôas conhecidas, e até ainda nossas parentas. Juntamos-nos todas, fômos colhendo informações e commentando-as, achando umas algo extraordinarias e outras inverosimeis.
N’esta altura apparece um homem dizendo-nos que as creanças não viriam, porque tinham sido presas pelo administrador do concelho e por elle levadas para Villa Nova d’Ourem. De principio, ninguem acredita, julga-se que se trata de uma brincadeira de máu gosto, da parte do homem, mas é tal a intimativa com que elle o affirma, que uma Senhora se offerece para, no seu auto ir a Fatima, saber o que lá se passára. Voltou, e no seu rosto, vêmos todos que é verdadeira a noticia. O administrador offerecendo-se para levar as creanças para a Cova da Iria depois de as ter interrogado, leva-as traiçoeiramente presas para Villa Nova d’Ourem. Com que direito? [2] O que tinham feito as creanças para serem presas?... nada, era a persiguição que principiava.
Todos protestam, todos se indignam, mas é um protesto ordeiro, e apesar de ali estar muita gente umas 5 a 6 mil pessôas, ninguem pensa em se revoltar, em luctar. Eram crentes, gente cheia de fé, e não brigões que ali se encontravam.
Das pessôas presentes, muitas pensam em ir-se embora, mas, do povo sobretudo, sahe este grito “Fiquemos e esperemos, ainda não chegou a hora, e se isto é coisa do Céu ha de manifestar-se, mesmo apesar de as creanças terem sido presas, pois contra o poder de Deus e da Virgem, a auctoridade não póde nada”.
Admiramos a fé do povo, e todos ficamos aguardando cheios de anciedade a hora annunciada.
Como nos não lembravamos dos 37 minutos já de ha muito adeantados; ás 2 horas pensávamos já todos em nos retirar, pensando que, por estarem ausentes as creanças, nada de anormal se passaria.
Mas justamente, n’esse momento ouvimos um enorme sussurro, que a todos nos fez voltar, e foi-nos dado então, o presenciar a mais commovente manifestação de fé a que jamais tinhamos assistido.
O povo cahindo todo de joelhos de mãos e olhos erguidos ao Ceu implorava Deus e a Virgem; os homens; e era d'elles a maioria, descobertos, de joelhos em terra, deixavam correr livremente as lagrimas. Era realmente impressionante.
Todos olhavam para o Ceu, que, uma ligeira nuvem, como que uma finissima renda branca, em sitios rosada, cobria. O sol, que por um instante se escondeu de todo, deixou-nos allumiados por uma luz exquisita, notando-se uma manchas amarellas no chão e sobre nós todos, e uma grande baixa de temperatura como succede quando ha um [2v] eclipse de sol. Alguem diz: — “Olhem o nevoeiro em volta da carrasqueira!” Olhámos e effectivamente elle lá estava; era realmente um nevoeiro? era fumo? era pó?... poderia ser qualquer d'estas coisas, mas a mim mais me parecia fumo que, sahindo como que de um perfumador se levantasse do chão em leves espiraes e se desfizesse logo em volta do arbusto.
Alguns, diziam ser pó, que uma leve brisa levantava, mas como explicar que a brisa só soprasse n'aquelle sitio, e que assim succedesse sempre no dia 13 de cada mez?! ... N'essa altura já o sol tinha retomado todo o seu antigo brilho. De subito um homem das Lapas, (logar não longe de Torres Novas) que ali tinha ido só para satisfazer a mulher, e que não acreditava na possibilidade do milagre, grita banhado em lagrimas: “Eu vejo, eu vejo a Senhora!!! Olhem, n'esta direcção entre aquellas duas nuvens, não a veem?” Todos olhámos na direcção indicada mas... nenhum de nós vio mais do que as nuvens. No entanto o homem cheio de fé dizia: “Prendam-me se quizerem, mas hei de sempre dizer o que vi”!
A mulher, não vio nada, mas estava radiante por ter sido o marido quem tinha visto, pois que, não acreditava, ella acreditava, não precisava vêr.
Veria realmente este homem alguma coisa, ou seria méra suggestão? — Não era nem um velho, nem uma creança, era um homem, dos seus quarenta annos, estava portanto em toda a força da vida e por isso talvez menos apto a ser suggestionado. Não era um atheu, pois que tinha vindo da sua casa ao Bairro, logar ali perto, para ouvir um sermão, mas era um incredulo do milagre.
Mais pessôas do povo diziam ter visto, mas o que viam? Não sei, mas d'aquelles com quem fallei o que mais me impressionou foi o homem das Lapas.
[…]
Voltámos pois da Fátima convencidos de que alguma coisa de anormal se tinha passado. Um eclipse de sol, é um facto conhecido, vulgar mesmo se quizerem, mas como se explica que em quatro mezes consecutivos, elle se desse sempre no mesmo dia, e á mesma hora, sem que a sciencia o tivesse annunciado? E o tal nevoeiro que só se via n'aquelle sitio?
