We remember today, O God, the slaughter of the holy innocents of Bethlehem by King Herod. Receive, we pray, into the arms of your mercy all innocent victims; and by your great might frustrate the designs of evil tyrants and establish your rule of justice, love, and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
—Collect from the Book of Common Prayer
Western church calendars mark December 28 as the Feast of the Holy Innocents, or Childermas, a day set aside to remember the slaughter of male Bethlehemites aged two and under by Herod the Great, king of Judea, as recounted in Matthew 2:16–18. Historians estimate there were probably ten to twenty children of that age in Bethlehem at the time.
LOOK: The Triumph of the Innocents by William Holman Hunt
This visionary realist painting by the Pre-Raphaelite artist William Holman Hunt is a unique interpretation of the Flight to Egypt. It shows, surrounding the Holy Family on the run, the embodied spirits of all the little boys in Bethlehem—the “innocents”—who were slain at Herod’s behest. It’s the first of three versions Hunt painted of the subject, mostly completed by 1876, but with some of the background left unfinished until 1903. The other two versions are in the Tate Britain in London and the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool.
The early church understood these boys as the first Christian martyrs. Though they were not conscious witnesses for Christ, they were killed because of him, casualties of a persecuting tyrant’s brooking no rival. Their death prefigures that of future Christian martyrs, starting with Stephen, as well as Christ’s own death.
Despite the solemnity of this episode, Hunt casts it in a triumphant light. Instead of showing the infants dismembered or impaled in a bloodbath with their mothers wailing in helpless grief, as artists have historically done, Hunt shows them in the light of glory, carrying palms and other branches and wearing floral crowns and garlands. They are, in the words of John Powell Lenox, the “first of that glorious company whose shining ranks are nearest the throne of the Slain One.”
Floating in air, those at the upper left are just waking up to their new spiritual life—they open their eyes and stretch.
Those on the ground lock arms in solidarity and play, surrounding a little foal. One curly-locked lad wears a red necklace, the beads spilling from the chain reminiscent of blood drops. But the fatal chest wound that one of Herod’s soldiers had inflicted by sword is no more, as he looks down with wonder to discover through a tear in his tunic. Healed flesh!
In the center Mary rides a mule, holding Jesus, who greets his playmates with a wave and a smile. He’s the only one who’s aware of them, these mystic brothers accompanying him into exile. Joseph leads the way forward, staying alert to potential threats. His tool basket is slung over his shoulder, which he’ll use to make a living for his family in Egypt.
At the far right one of the child-martyrs, “in priestly office” and holding a censer, leads the celestial band, while his two companions “cast down their tokens of martyrdom in the path of their recognised Lord,” as Hunt wrote in the catalog for the 1885 exhibition of the Tate version by the Fine Art Society in London.
The children tread through “the living fountains of water, the streams of eternal life . . . ever rolling onward and breaking—where it might if real water be dissipated in vapour—into magnified globes which image the thoughts rife in that age in the minds of pious Jews . . . of the millennium which was to be the mature outcome of the advent of the Messiah.” The large bubble above Joseph’s right calf reveals Jacob’s dream at Bethel, which “first clearly speaks of the union of Earth and Heaven” that Christ will one day make total and permanent.
To read the artist’s thirteen-page statement about the painting, see here.
LISTEN: “Salvete Flores Martyrum” (Hail, Martyr Flowers) | Words by Aurelius C. Prudentius, early fifth century | Music by Claudio Dall’Albero, 2022 | Performed by the Choir of Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, dir. David Skinner, on Vespertina Hymnodia: Sacred Music by Claudio Dall’Albero, 2022
Salvete flores Martyrum
Quo lucis ipso in limine
Christi in secutur sustulit
Ceu turbo nascentes rosas.
Vos prima Christi victima
Grex immolatorum tener
Aram ante ipsam simplices
Palma et coronatis luditis.
Jesu tibi sit Gloria
Qui natus es de Virgine
Cum Patre et almo Spiritu
In sempiterna saecula
All hail, ye little Martyr flowers,
Sweet rosebuds cut in dawning hours!
When Herod sought the Christ to find,
Ye fell as bloom before the wind.
First victims of the Martyr bands,
With crowns and palms in tender hands,
Around the very altar, gay
And innocent, ye seem to play.
All honor, laud, and glory be,
O Jesu, Virgin-born, to Thee;
All glory, as is ever meet,
To Father and to Paraclete.
Trans. Athelstan Riley
“Salvete flores martyrum” is the office hymn for Lauds on the Feast of the Holy Innocents. It is a cento from the 208-line Epiphany poem in the Cathemerinon by the ancient Latin Christian poet Prudentius, first assembled in the 1568 Breviary of Pope Pius V.
This text has been set to music by many composers ever since the Renaissance. My favorite setting is probably by the contemporary Italian composer Claudio Dall’Albero, from his cycle Five Hymns for Vespers, shared above.
Other notable settings include those by Tomás Luis de Victoria and Michael Haydn (Joseph Hadyn’s brother).
Athelstan Riley’s is one of several metrical English translations, but here’s a prose translation provided by John Carden in his compilation A Procession of Prayers:
God keep you, O finest flowers of martyrs, who, at the dawn of life, were crushed by the persecutor of Christ and flung like petals before a furious wind.
You, the first to die for Christ, tender flocks of martyrs, now dance before the altar, now laugh candidly with your palms and gardens.
Art & Theology 