An infant, with a nine-hundred-year-old family history of piety and heroism needs the presence of holy, learned and patriotic parents to steer him safely through the demands of the character-building years.

However, by the time he was six, his mother, the religious-minded Mme. de Foucauld had died at the age of thirty-six, and his father, Francois de Edouard de Foucauld, who was living with his sister in Paris, died not long after, of possible suicide. Not an auspicious beginning for one who was to be declared “Blessed” before the world on November 13, 2005.

Yet, hidden away in history books, were stories of greatness, beginning nine-hundred years previous to the child’s birth. As my Irish grandmother would say, “He came from good stock.”

There was Sire Hughes de Foucauld, who, in 970 A.D., held a great feast for his relatives, friends and neighbors, then divided all his worldly goods between two abbeys and went off to spend the rest of his life in a monastery.

Then, in 1248, Bertrand de Foucauld kissed his wife and children good-bye and joined King Louis IX – later St. Louis – in the sixth Crusade to rescue the holy places of the Middle East from Moslem control.

King Louis decided to attack Egypt first, in order to destroy the Moslem overlords of Palestine, before swinging north to Jerusalem.

(Isn’t this beginning to sound altogether too familiar?)

At the front of the lancers, who established a beachhead on the Nile delta, was none other than Bertrand. In April, 1250, the Crusaders attacked the Infidels at El Mansurah, and marched into an ambush. Scores of the horses stampeded into the Nile. King Louis and the survivors were taken prisoner.

The stalwart Bertrand had continued fighting, using his saber when his lance was broken, and dying, while upholding the de Foucauld motto for steadfastness and courage.

The king was soon ransomed, and spent some years in Palestine, visiting the holy places he had failed to rescue for the Church, before returning to France and his throne.

If we fast-forward to 1422, we find Jean de Foucauld as a trusted counsellor to King Charles VII, who advised the king to listen to Joan of Arc. When the Maid of Orleans had sent the English out of much of France, it was Jean who was at her side when she placed the crown on Charles’ head in the nave of Rheims Cathedral on July 17, 1429.

It was more than a century later, July , 1548, that Gabriel de Foucauld sailed from France to Scotland to present his credentials to the five-year-old Queen of Scots, Mary Stewart, and to ask her hand for the Dauphin, age four, the son of Henri II and Catherine de Medicis, who was to become King Francois II.

The marriage agreement was signed by the Scottish regency, and Matrimonial Envoy de Foucauld returned to France with Her Majesty, her dolls and her governess.

Then, there was Jean de Foucauld, Jean III, who augmented the family honor with his love for France, respect for others, and a devout love of God. He became a priest, lived frugally, and gave most of his money to the poor. Eventually, he was named grand-vicar, Armand de Foucauld de Pontbriand.

As he walked with his cousin, Jean-Marie du Lau, Prince-Archbishop of Arles, in the old Carmelite monastery garden on the Rue de Vaugirard in Paris in 1792, both men knew they were facing eminent death.

With the French Revolution had come one of the first acts of the National Assembly in 1790 to equalize clerical salaries and to elect the higher clerical officers – who would become civil servants and be required to swear allegiance to the new revolutionary constitution. (No separation of Church and State there!)

Immediately, the Archbishop of Arles went to Paris to condemn the law, where he was joined by his grand-vicar, Armand de Foucauld. If they had simply signed their names in assent, they could have been saved, but in so doing, they would have betrayed God and his people, betrayed the countless number of priests who had already given their lives. The two men would become the one- hundred- nineteenth and one- hundred- twentieth martyrs to die that Sunday afternoon.

More than a century later, Charles de Foucauld followed in his ancestors’ footsteps and died a martyr on the sands of Tamanrasset.

(To be concluded)

Home

Archives