The Evening News. September 22, 1916.

4. The Saint

And when Father Magin Catala came to the Santa Clara mission none precisely knows. He first appears in the records on Monday, September 1, 1791, when he baptized a child. No likeness of him survives. It is said that he never smiled. Less is known of this appearance than that of any other padre. For thirty-six years he was enslaved by devotional duty. He wrote no letters. His signature in scattered books and papers, the crucifix he always wore, alone gave material proof that he existed. Humility made him wish to obliterate his physical self. In conversation he stood eyes downcast. When he met women he covered his face with his cowl. Soon he was called the Saint.

Tortured with inflammatory rheumatism, bereft of comfort and convenience, for thirty-six years he lived in his chill, narrow cell, still shown at Santa Clara. A devout follower of St. Francis, no penance was too terrible for him to inflict upon his fragile body-abstinence, flagellations, prayers unending. On his knees he remained until sleep overcame him. Where he sank he slept, in church or cell.

During his life time he baptized thousands, but his ardor for saving souls was never satisfied. Even in winter, his sandaled feet bare, he went to serve the poor, the dying. Always he walked.

Though San Jose was only a league from Santa Clara those of feeble faith found it difficult to make their way through the mustard trail to the Mission. So in 1799 Father Catala and 200 Indians set out the broad avenue of willow trees that connect the two towns. The Saint and the neophytes watered the trees. The mustard trail became the "Beautiful Way." Soon it gave shade and shelter to weary worshippers. In larger numbers they went to the Mission. Often they found the Saint alone "talking with God." For hours they saw him kneeling before the large image of the Master, praying for pagans. At times the dull Indians wondered why.

When the Indians resisted the Saint's prayers, with a guide he went abroad seeking them. Sometimes exhausted he could go no farther. His guide tried to help him. The Saint merely replied, "No, pray." The time came when the Saint could no longer go into the highways looking for converts. He could not even go to the stations of the Way of the Cross set up by him for half a league in the Alameda. He remained at the Mission in tender converse with the crucifix on his breast.

As the Saint approached three score and ten he realized how brief must be his work, how brief his life. His devotion and his fervor grew. His austerity exacted austerity from the converts. When they entered the Mission they were compelled to lay aside their ornaments. His especial severity was against vanity.

One Sabbath morning great was their astonishment to find on the table behind which he preached the skeleton of a woman's head. He seemed not to speak to the converts, but to the dead woman. After a hundred years it is still related how he looked and how he spoke when he addressed the woman, "Where now are thine eyes, oh, skull? Those eyes with which thou didst entrap thy dupes. Where are those voluptuous lips and thy vile tongue? In hell." Thus he went on until the women overwrought cried aloud for pardon for their vanities.

During the last two years the Saint preached seated at a table near the ralling of the sanctuary, but the wayward from San Jose, from the great ranches of the Dons and the dusty pagans thronged the Mission. Sometimes he spoke till from weakness he fainted. Then tears were in all eyes. The Saint could not remain with them long.

During those last two years Father Catala's feet seemed scarcely to touch the earth as he dragged himself to and fro under the olive branches in the Mission garden. Those last days were the miracle days. It is for his deeds at that time that at present Rome is endeavoring to establish Father Magin Catala of Santa Clara as a saint.

As the Saint's body gave way the fervor of his spirit grew till within a day of his death he continued at his duties. His last evening on earth he called his Indian attendant, and said: "I am going up above. Watch the sky. When you see the morning star, let me know."

Throughout the night the attendant watched. Early he went to the door of the Saint and said: "Father the morning star has appeared."

"Then please call Father Jose to come to pray over me."

Father Jose appeared, but the Saint had gone up above.

The bells tolled. Crowds of people hastened to the Mission. "The Saint has left us," they cried. At the burial, the Indians lamented and protested against putting their Saint in a tomb. They tore his robe to pieces for sacred tokens of the beloved man. One seized his sandals, another his crucifix. Only did they desist when promised each a token of the holy man. By these tokens they lived.

Did Father Magin Catala heal the sick? Did his eyes see leagues? Did his ears hear diving voices? Did he make water flow from a rock in the desert? Did a white light shine on the Mission when he prayed? When he knelt at the foot of the cross did the Saviour really release His hands from the nails, and embrace the Saint?

Or did the Saint's tenderness so stir the hearts of his followers that they themselves saw visions?

And is not this a miracle?

(To be continued)

Transcribed by Claire Martin, for the Santa Clara Co. CAGenWeb Project. 2007.

Return to When San Jose Was Young Index.