Women's History Month: Being a Saint Ain't Easy by Catherine Randall

March is Women’s History Month when we celebrate the lives and achievements of women throughout history. 

Until comparatively recently, most history was about men. After all, broadly speaking, men were the rulers, the law-makers, the generals and the scholars. Men were the ones who did things and history was about what they did. And most history was written by men too.

Thankfully, things have changed dramatically and we now know a lot more about the lives and achievements of women. However, it is still true that the further back in history you go, the harder it is to find women who are remembered in their own right, and not just for being the mothers, daughters or wives of famous men. The obvious exception is powerful female rulers, like Cleopatra and Queen Elizabeth I. 

But there were other remarkable women from long ago who made their mark on history in their own right and left behind the evidence to prove it. Prominent among these were the early Christian female saints.

I’m going to tell you about two of them. Their names were Perpetua and Felicity.

Perpetua and Felicity lived more than 1800 years ago, at the beginning of the third century AD. They lived in North Africa, in a place called Carthage, which at the time was in the Roman province of Africa, and today is in Tunisia. Vibia Perpetua was 22, a well-educated noblewoman with a young son, probably a widow. Felicity was a slave, pregnant with her first child. At the time, Christians in this part of the Roman Empire faced persecution, yet both of these women bravely decided to become Christians, and as a result were arrested, imprisoned and put to death.

Septimius Severus was Roman Emperor at the time of the saints' deaths (Glyptothek, Munich)

But the most remarkable thing about this – and why we know so much about it - is that Perpetua left behind a diary, a document now known as The Passion of Saints Perpetua and Felicity. This is one of the earliest surviving first-person narratives written by a woman. 

Apparently, Perpetua’s mother had been a Christian, but her father was not, and in her diary she writes of how he pleaded with her to change her mind. She wouldn’t do so, and both women were arrested and imprisoned.

Perpetua describes the terrible heat of the prison (this is north Africa, remember) and the rough behaviour of the guards. She also writes about how upset she is at having to leave behind her baby, including the physical torment caused by the fact that she abruptly has to stop breast-feeding him. When she is allowed to continue breast-feeding, after bribing the guards to move her to a better part of the prison where he can be with her, she writes of the great relief and happiness she feels.

At a hearing in front of the Roman Governor, Perpetua and Felicity both refused to give up their Christian faith and were therefore condemned to public execution by means of wild beasts. Both women, along with three Christian men, were to be put to death at the military games held in Carthage to celebrate Emperor Septimius Severus’s birthday. Perpetua’s record of her trial and imprisonment ends the day before the games.

Remains of the Roman Amphitheatre at Carthage.
The column in the centre is a memorial to the Christian martyrs

‘Of what was done in the games themselves, let him write who will,’ Perpetua writes. The diary was finished by an eyewitness, who relates that Felicity gave birth to a daughter before the games, which meant that she could join Perpetua in her martyrdom. (Roman law forbade pregnant women to be put to death.) Arrangements were made for Felicity's daughter and Perpetua's son to be cared for after their deaths.

If you have read Vita and the Gladiator by my fellow Time Tunneller, Ally Sherrick, you will have a sense of what Perpetua, Felicity and their male counterparts experienced when they walked into the Roman arena. The eyewitness account emphasises how bravely they faced their deaths, entering the arena with their heads held high, so strong was their faith in God. The men sentenced to die alongside Perpetua and Felicity were attacked by bears, leopards and wild boars, Perpetua and Felicity were set upon by a rabid cow.  But the wild beasts failed to kill them, and they were put to death by sword. 

Perpetua and Felicity have been revered as saints ever since their deaths, and they are still remembered in all branches of the Christian church today. In life they were separated by social class - Perpetua was a noblewoman and Felicity a slave - but they died together as sisters, which would been a powerful witness to their status-conscious contemporaries as to the radical nature of the Christian faith. Their feast day, on which they are especially remembered, is 7 March.

It is remarkable to think that, in St Perpetua’s account of her imprisonment, we can read the voice of someone who lived over 1800 years ago.

Watch Catherine's YouTube video about St Perpetua and St Felicity by clicking here

Catherine Randall is the author of The White Phoenix , an historical novel for 9-12 year olds set in London, 1666. It was shortlisted for the Historical Association’s Young Quills Award 2021. Catherine is currently working on a children's novel set in Victorian London.

The White Phoenix is published by the Book Guild and available from bookshops and online retailers.

For more information, go to Catherine’s website: www.catherinerandall.com.

Twitter: @Crr1Randall.

Memorials and Memory by Matthew Wainwright

On a chilly morning in early autumn, a funeral procession moves through the silent streets of London. The coffin has come from the grand surroundings of Westminster Abbey, and it is headed for a smaller church in the countryside, where its occupant will be laid to rest alongside their family.

Crowds of mourners line the way, their heads bowed in sadness and respect. They have gathered to say goodbye to a person whom most of them never met, but who had a deep and lasting impact on their lives. 

This is a scene you might be familiar with. Maybe you watched it, in person, online or on the TV, on 19th September 2022, the day of the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II. But did you know that the same scene took place almost exactly 137 years before, at a funeral for another very important person – an earl, no less – who was loved just as deeply by the poorest and lowest people in society?

Anthony Ashley Cooper, seventh Earl of Shaftesbury

That person was a man named Anthony Ashley Cooper, the seventh Earl of Shaftesbury (which is rather a mouthful, so we shall call him Lord Shaftesbury). His funeral took place on 8th October 1885, and it was one of the grandest funerals of the time.

As Lord Shaftesbury’s coffin left the funeral, a poor labourer standing nearby said: ‘Our earl’s gone! God Almighty knows he loved us, and we loved him. We shan’t see his like again!’

Why was this man so loved by so many? Why was his funeral attended, not just by MPs and bishops, royalty and nobility, but by labourers, factory hands, flower girls and the poor and destitute from every corner of London?

To answer this question, we need to understand the work he did.

A life of charity

Lord Shaftesbury was a politician, which meant he spent a lot of time in the Houses of Parliament, making speeches and trying to persuade the government to pass good laws. Those laws were usually about the working conditions of poor people, mostly women and children, who more often than not were condemned to a life of grinding labour for little money.

What set Lord Shaftesbury apart from other politicians of the time was that he also spent many hours visiting the poorest people in London, as well as people with mental illness who had been locked away in ‘hospitals’ that were no better than prisons. He wanted to really understand people’s lives, their suffering and their hopes. As a committed Christian, he believed that the lowest flower girl was just as important as Queen Victoria herself and should be treated with the same dignity and respect.

Lord Shaftesbury gave his whole life to charitable work like this and his influence is still being felt today. Now children don’t have to go to work from as young as four or five years old, slaving away in grimy factories or choking chimneys. Instead, they can go to school, have a good education and find a job when they are grown up. This is largely thanks to Lord Shaftesbury’s work.

Let’s look quickly at some of the laws that Lord Shaftesbury helped to pass.

Lunacy Laws

Twelfth Night entertainment at Hanwell Lunatic Asylum. Wealthy patrons would visit asylums on special occasions to inspect the patients

In Victorian times, people with mental illnesses and learning difficulties were called ‘lunatics’. They were often locked away in places which were called ‘hospitals’, but which were more like prisons. Often the staff treated them little better than animals.

Lord Shaftesbury helped to pass laws that made these hospitals better places to stay in, and helped doctors make more of an effort to understand the treatment and help that people really needed.

Child Labour Laws

A girl drags a coal cart through a passage in a mine. Boys and girls as young as six could be left alone in the pitch dark for up to twelve hours a day

We’ve all heard of the terrible jobs that Victorian children had to do: sent down mines in pitch blackness; forced to work in noisy, dangerous factories beside spinning machines with no safety equipment; sent up chimneys just thirty centimetres wide with nothing but a brush.

Lord Shaftesbury changed all of that. It took a long time, and many people opposed him, but he eventually brought in laws that limited the number of hours children could be made to work, and the age they could start working.

He also supported the ‘Ragged School Movement’, which set up schools for poor children all over the country, and Sunday Schools, which were run by churches so that children could have at least one day a week in a classroom.

* * *

In the middle of Piccadilly Circus, right in the heart of London, stands a statue: a winged man holding a bow, standing on one leg with the other leg stretched out behind him. The man is Anteros, a Greek god of love, and the statue is called the Shaftesbury Memorial Fountain. It was put up in 1892 to remember the work of Lord Shaftesbury.

Statue of Lord Shaftesbury in Westminster Abbey

There are other memorials to Lord Shaftesbury: a statue of him stands in Westminster Abbey, for example. There are also memorials all over the place, for all kinds of different people: people who died in wars, kings and queens, and others who did great things. Here and there you might see a bench with a small metal plate on it, giving the name of a well-loved local person and remembering something they said or did.

History is all about remembering: often we remember the deeds of kings and queens, soldiers and fighters, famous names from the history books. But as a historical author I also love to find out about the lives of the people who often aren’t remembered: the ordinary, everyday people like you and me. Their lives are just as fascinating and just as worth remembering as people like Lord Shaftesbury.

So next time you are out and about, look out for memorials, big or small. And think about what you might be remembered for in a hundred years’ time!

Watch Matthew Wainwright's YouTube video on Memorials by clicking here

Matthew Wainwright is an author of historical fiction for young people. His first book, Out of the Smoke, is based on the life and work of the seventh Earl of Shaftesbury and is published by Wakeman Trust. He works with schools and libraries to promote literacy and creative writing, and to help students develop an understanding of history. He lives in Greenwich, London, with his wife and four lively girls.

Website: https://matthewwainwright.co.uk/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mattwauthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mattwauthor
Buy link: https://www.waterstones.com/book/out-of-the-smoke/matthew-wainwright/9781913133108