Manuel Nunes Formigão (Visconde de Montelo)

Yielding to an irresistible feeling of curiosity, justified by such extraordinary facts, though without managing to overcome entirely the reluctance I felt at doing so, for fear of appearing to give excessive importance to what was perhaps no more than a ridiculous popular superstition, I resolved to set out for Fatima together with some friends, and so on the afternoon of the 12th I took the northern train and got off at Torres Novas, from where at dawn on the following day I went on by carriage to the village that was already so famous. The spectacle I witnessed during the journey from the princess of the Almonda^* to the adoptive homeland of Gonçalo Hermingues^* was utterly surprising.

[…]

Obliged by the love of truth, I do not wish to conclude without saying that my impressions of what happened that day at Fatima were not encouraging.

I did not go near the place of the apparitions and hardly talked with anyone, staying on the road some three hundred metres away, and I noted only the diminution of the sunlight, which seemed to me an unimportant phenomenon, due perhaps to the high altitude of the hills. I therefore continued to maintain a prudent but benevolent wait-and-see attitude, as I had since the events of August, for before them I invariably smiled in absolute incredulity on hearing any reference to the apparitions of Fatima.

I feel obliged to say that at that date I was very far from sharing such a conviction. On the contrary, I returned from Fatima more sceptical than ever, although I had been greatly moved in contemplating the ardent faith and sincere piety of the pilgrims during my long journey.

What doubtless contributed to this was the fact that I had stayed on the road far from the place of the apparitions, from where I had been able to observe nothing or almost nothing.

On the 13th of October of that year about 60,000 people, of every class and social condition, gathered at the place of the apparitions, drawn by the vague report of the discreetly announced miracle.

It was then that the most astonishing and divinely beautiful spectacle that it is given to man to behold unfolded before the eyes of that wondering crowd. It had rained torrentially all morning. The sky, in all its immense vastness, was covered with dense black clouds.

At astronomical noon^* the sun suddenly tears through the clouds that veil its face and, like a marvellous Catherine wheel, spins dizzily on its axis for ten minutes, sending out in continuous bursts sheaves of light and torrents of flame of the most beautiful and varied colours.

— Did Your Excellency also witness that astonishing phenomenon?

— I did. I had already been to Fátima on the thirteenth of September, but I did not witness anything extraordinary then, except the faith and piety of the crowd, which that day reached perhaps as many as 30,000 people.

On the twenty-seventh of the same month I went back there to see and question the seers, and I confess that I was deeply impressed by the tone of conviction and sincerity with which they described the facts they claimed to have witnessed. But only on the thirteenth of October, when I witnessed the solar phenomenon, did I recognise the importance of the marvellous events of Fátima and decide to carry out, on my own initiative and purely for intellectual satisfaction, an inquiry as thorough and detailed as my professional duties allowed.

I went to Fatima and, like everybody except Pinto Coelho, who, besides being somewhat vain, has a mania for singling himself out in everything, I saw the solar phenomenon and became convinced that it was naturally inexplicable, as as fulfilment of a prophecy made six months before and as a miracle in itself, at least quoad modum^*.

[…]

On 27 September I heard that prediction from the mouths of the children and on 13 October I saw the sign and saw that all the people believed.

On the thirteenth of October some seventy thousand people of all classes and social conditions, from every part of the country, were present. When the dialogue between Lucia and the Apparition was over (the Apparition told her she was the Lady of the Rosary), the seer told the bystanders to look at the sun. The sky was completely overcast. It was raining torrentially.

As if by magic the clouds suddenly parted, and the sun appeared at the zenith in all its splendour and spun dizzily on itself like the most beautiful Catherine wheel imaginable, taking on all the colours of the rainbow one after another and sending out beams of light with an astonishing effect.

This sublime and incomparable spectacle, which was repeated three distinct times, lasted about ten minutes. The immense crowd, overcome by the evidence of so great a prodigy, fell to its knees; the Creed, the Hail Mary and the act of contrition burst from every mouth, and tears – tears of joy, of gratitude or of repentance – welled up in every eye.

[…]

Although I had the good fortune to witness the astounding events of 13 October 1917 and could therefore narrate them in detail, I prefer to reproduce here two accounts of those events written by writers above suspicion: one of them unpublished, from the sparkling pen of the intelligent and highly cultivated Dr. José Maria de Proença de Almeida Garrett, who kindly wrote it at my request two months later; the other by the well-known journalist Mr Avelino d'Almeida^*, published in number 610, 2nd series, of "A Illustração Portuguesa"^*.

"On the thirteenth of October, in the presence of about seventy thousand people of all classes and social conditions and from every part of the country, when the dialogue between Lúcia and the Apparition, who declared to her that she was the Lady of the Rosary, had ended, the seer urged the bystanders to look at the sun. The sky was completely overcast. It was raining torrentially. As if by magic the clouds suddenly parted, and the sun at the zenith appeared in all its splendour and spun dizzily on itself, like the most beautiful firework wheel imaginable, taking on successively all the colours of the rainbow and projecting towards the earth beams of light of surprising effect. This sublime and incomparable spectacle, which was repeated three distinct times, lasted almost ten minutes. The immense multitude, overcome by the evidence of so great a prodigy, fell to its knees, the Creed, the Hail Mary and the act of contrition burst from every mouth, and tears, tears of joy, of gratitude or of repentance, welled up in every eye.

"With the aim of completing the impressions gathered on the thirteenth of this present month of September, and of furnishing myself with the indispensable elements to found, as far as possible, a correct judgement on the events which in the last five months have been unfolding three kilometres to the south of the village of Fatima, at the place called Cova da Iria, I went for the second time last Thursday, the twenty-seventh⁴, to that picturesque village, gracefully perched on one of the spurs of the majestic Serra d'Ayre.

It was three o'clock in the afternoon when I alighted from the carriage that had brought me from Torres Novas by way of Villa Nova d'Ourem to the humble settlement whose name is today pronounced as a promise of heavenly blessings and graces by tens of thousands of lips from one end of Portugal to the other. The reverend Parish Priest, whom I sought out at once, was not at home: he had gone out of the parish and was not due back until night.

Sorry not to be able to exchange a few words with him on the subject that had brought me there, I resolved to go to the house of the children favoured with apparitions of the Most Holy Virgin and to hear from their own mouths the detailed account of the strange events, the news of which has day after day been attracting to Fatima countless people of all classes and social conditions.

Two kilometres from the parish church and the presbytery, in an insignificant little hamlet called Aljustrel, belonging to the parish, stand the modest dwellings of the seers' families.

The two younger children were away. I went to the house of the eldest, where the mother invited me to come in and sit down, an invitation I accepted. In reply to a question of mine about the whereabouts of her daughter, whom I was looking for, she told me that she was gathering grapes on a small property belonging to her, two kilometres away.

Someone at once offered to go and call her at the mother's bidding. Meanwhile the two younger children, who had come back from the fields, learning from the neighbours that I wished to speak to them, came to me.

They are brother and sister, a boy and a girl. The girl arrived first.

Her name is Jacinta de Jesus, she is seven years old and is the daughter of Manuel Pedro Marto and Olympia de Jesus. Rather tall for her age, a little slender without one being able to call her thin, with a well-proportioned face, a dark complexion, modestly dressed, her skirt coming down to her ankles, she has the look of a healthy child, showing perfect normality in her whole physical and moral make-up. Surprised by the presence of strangers who had accompanied me and whom she did not expect to find, at first she shows great embarrassment, answering in monosyllables and in an almost imperceptible tone of voice the questions I put to her. Moments later her brother appears, a boy nine years of age, who comes with a certain ease into the room where we were, keeping his cap on his head, no doubt because he did not remember that he ought to take it off. A sign his sister made to him to that effect went unnoticed by him. I invited him to sit on a chair beside me, and he obeyed immediately and without any reluctance.

[…]

The questioning of Francisco concluded, I called Jacinta aside, who was playing in the street with other children, had her sit on a little stool beside me and subjected her too to an interrogation, succeeding in obtaining from her answers as complete and detailed as her brother's.

[…]

To this question the child first answers that they were in the right hand, but then, owing to a deliberate and captious insistence on my part, she appears perplexed and confused, not knowing how to say precisely which of her own hands corresponded to the hand in which the Apparition held the rosary.

With the aim of completing the impressions gathered on the 13th of this month of September and of equipping myself with the elements indispensable for grounding a judgement, as sound as possible, on the events that over the last five months have been unfolding three kilometres south of the village of Fátima, at the place called Cova da Iria, I went for the second time last Thursday, the 27th, to that picturesque village, gracefully perched on one of the spurs of the majestic Serra de Aire. It was three o'clock in the afternoon when I alighted from the carriage that had brought me from Torres Novas, by way of Vila Nova de Ourém, to the humble settlement whose name is today uttered as a sweet hope of heavenly blessings and graces by tens of thousands of lips, from one end of Portugal to the other. The Rev. Parish Priest, whom I sought out at once, was not at home: he had gone out of the parish and was not due back until the evening. Sorry not to be able to exchange a few words with him on the matter that had brought me there, I decided to go to the home of the children who say they have been favoured with apparitions of the Most Holy Virgin and to hear from their own mouths the detailed account of the strange events, the news of which has drawn to Fátima, day after day, countless people of every class and social condition.

Two kilometres from the parish church and the presbytery, in an insignificant little hamlet called Aljustrel, belonging to the parish, the modest dwellings of the seers' families stand close to one another. The two younger children were away.

I went to the home of the eldest, where her mother invited me to come in and sit down, an invitation I accepted. To a question of mine about the whereabouts of the daughter I was looking for, she replied that she was out picking grapes on a small property belonging to her, two kilometres away.

Someone at once offered to go and fetch her at the mother's bidding. Meanwhile, the two younger children, who had come back from the fields, learning from the neighbours that I wished to speak to them, came to me. They were brother and sister, a boy and a girl.

The girl arrived first. Her name is Jacinta de Jesus, she is seven years old and is the daughter of Manuel Pedro Marto and Olímpia de Jesus³. Rather tall for her age, somewhat slender without being thin, with a well-proportioned face and a dark complexion, modestly dressed, her skirt coming down to her ankles, she has the look of a healthy child, showing perfect normality in her whole physical and moral make-up. Taken aback by the presence of strangers, who had accompanied me and whom she did not expect to find, at first she shows great embarrassment, answering the questions I put to her in monosyllables and in an almost inaudible voice. A few moments later her brother appears, a boy of nine, who enters the room where we were with a certain self-assurance, keeping his cap on his head, no doubt because he did not remember that he ought to take it off. A sign his sister made to him to uncover his head went unnoticed by him. I invited him to sit on a chair beside me, and he obeyed at once without any reluctance. I began without delay to question him about what he had seen and heard since last May at the Cova da Iria on the 13th of each month during the time of the apparition. The following short dialogue took place between him and me.

[…]

Half an hour after the interrogation of Jacinta de Jesus had ended, Lúcia de Jesus appears. She was coming, as I said, from a small property of her family's, two kilometres away, where she had been picking grapes. Taller and better nourished than the other two children, of fairer complexion, sturdy and healthy, she presents herself before me with an ease that contrasts singularly with Jacinta's bashfulness and excessive timidity. Simply dressed, like Jacinta, she shows neither in her attitude nor in her face any sign of vanity or of embarrassment.

Sitting down, at a nod from me, on a chair beside me, she most willingly lends herself to being questioned about the events of which she is the chief protagonist, notwithstanding that she feels visibly tired and dejected, owing to the incessant visits she receives and the repeated and prolonged inquiries to which she is subjected.

Daughter of António dos Santos⁴, aged 50, and of Maria Rosa, aged 48, she has one brother and four sisters, all older than she: Maria⁵, 26, already married, Teresa⁶, 24, Manuel⁷, 22, Glória⁸, 20, and Carolina⁹, 15. She turned ten on 22 March of this year¹⁰.

She was eight years old when she made her first communion. Her mother, the very type of the Christian woman and good housewife, devoted to her domestic chores, has always sought to instil in her children the holy fear of God and to bring them to fulfil all their moral and religious duties. She is deeply troubled by the events that at every moment draw the attention of thousands of people to her poor dwelling, until recently unknown to the world, and one notices at once that her mind wavers, in restless anxiety, between the hope that her daughter is really privileged with the apparition of the Virgin and the fear that she is the victim of a hallucination that will bring her sorrow and cover her whole family with ridicule.

To a question of mine about her Lúcia's piety, she replies that she notices nothing extraordinary about her in this respect, seeing her pray in the same way and with the same fervour as before the apparitions, exactly as her sisters do.

After midday I set off by motor car for Fátima by the road through Mendiga, Reguengo de Fetal and Porto de Mós. I reached Fátima at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. At the Cova da Iria, beside the holm oak of the apparitions, some pious country women are kneeling, devoutly praying the rosary. The holm oak has been reduced to its trunk, little more than a span^* high, and is wrapped in branches of wild plants and flowers. The devotion of the pilgrims, who wanted to keep a memento of the bush that served the Virgin as a pedestal during the apparitions, has almost completely destroyed it. Everything else was in the same state as on the 11th, two days before the last apparition. I then went to the house of Jacinta's family, where the three seers were being questioned by Fr. José Ferreira de Lacerda, parish priest of Milagres and editor of the Catholic weekly “O Mensageiro” of Leiria. He is at present a chaplain with the rank of second lieutenant in the Portuguese Expeditionary Corps^*, and had come home on leave and wished, before returning to France, to see and speak with the children of Aljustrel. Fr. Lacerda was accompanied by another priest from Leiria and by the parish priest of Fátima. The number of the children's visitors increases from day to day. They come at all hours, from the most distant and opposite parts of the country. The children are quite worn down. Lúcia above all, because she is questioned at greater length, is utterly exhausted; one can see that her excessive tiredness makes her answer the questions put to her without the attention and reflection one would wish. She sometimes answers almost mechanically, and often does not remember certain circumstances of the apparitions well, unlike before 13 October. If care is not taken to spare the children the fatigue of frequent and lengthy questioning, their health is at risk of serious harm.

Last night a motor car carrying Carbonari^*, among them a certain Fialho, left here secretly for Fatima, and there, in the dead of night, like highwaymen, they tore down the wooden frame and brought it back together with the cross, the arch of greenery and a picture of Our Lady. They did not also bring the holm-oak shrub, because only a small part of its trunk was left, and I do not know whether they took that. But to the front to fight the

Germans — that is where they will not go, these heroic civilians. They did not even dare to go to Fatima by day, the brave fellows.