Christmas commemorates not just the birth of a divine baby, but the death of little ones — the young children under the age of two killed in Bethlehem by soldiers of King Herod, who feared a royal rival. If the Christmas narrative was the creation of fiction writers would they have included in the romance of Bethlehem this unsettling account of murdered children known so touchingly as the “Holy Innocents?”

There’s an important message in this incident:

“These infant Martyrs represent … what must in its measure befall everyone who draws near to Jesus. Suffering goes out of him, like an atmosphere. The air is charged with the seed of crosses, and the soul is sown all over with them before it is aware. Moreover, the cross is a quick growth and can spring up, and blossom, and bear fruit almost in a night, while from its vivacious root a score of fresh crosses will spring up and cover the soul with the peculiar verdure of Calvary. They that come nearest to our Lord are those who suffer most, and who suffer the most unselfishly,” Fr. Frederick Faber wrote in his great work, Bethlehem (Tan Books, p. 195).

The Holy Innocents were probably small in number (not the hundreds or thousands sometimes imagined), but still their end was a heartbreakingly sad event. The children are honored as the first Christian martyrs, comparable to the adults who later voluntarily and knowingly gave their lives. Their feast day is today, Dec. 28th.

Whenever we celebrate the feast of the Holy Innocents, our hearts are filled with compassion, but, at the same time, also with joy and consolation. We have compassion for these innocent children, who shed their blood to satisfy the cruelty, vanity, and pride of a tyrant;–but taking into consideration that they had not the remotest idea of the death they were to suffer, that, without any struggle, or troubles of conscience, they were torn from the arms of their mothers, to hasten to the arms of God, where a particular degree of glory awaited them,–in consideration of this, we feel comforted and happy, and can not but congratulate these little innocents, the first of the martyrs for Christ’s sake. (Source)

The famous 16th-century Coventry Carol is a mournful lullaby in their memory.

Then woe is me, poor child, for thee
And ever mourn and say
For thy parting, neither say nor sing
Farewell, lully, lullay
Farewell, lully, lullay

And when the stars fill darkened skies
In their far venture, stay
And smile as dreaming, little one
Farewell, lully, lullay
Dream now, lully, lullay

Many artists have depicted the scene, including the 15th-century Italian artist Francesco de Rosa:

Fr. Frederick Faber wrote:

Yet, even this scene is a scene of worship. Tragic as it is, it has a quiet side, and a beauty, which blood-stained though it be, is not unbecoming to the meek majesty of Bethlehem.

Another aspect of the story is Herod’s fate:

Herod soon after, received his just punishment. Several terrible maladies suddenly seized him, as Josephus, the Jewish historian, relates. An internal fever consumed him, and all his limbs were covered with abominable ulcers, breeding vermin. His feet were swollen; his neck, shoulders and arms drawn together, and his breast so burdened, that the unfortunate man could hardly breathe, while his whole body exhaled so offensive an odor, that neither he nor others could endure it. Hence, in despair, he frequently cried for a knife or a sword, that he might end his own life. In this miserable condition, he ceased not his cruelties, and only five days before his death, he had his son, Antipater, put to death. As he had good reason to believe that the entire people would rejoice at his death, he wished at least to take to the grave the thought that many should grieve, if not for him, at least for their friends and relatives. Hence, he had the chief men of the nobility imprisoned, and gave orders to his sister Salome, that, as soon as he had closed his eyes, they were all to be murdered. This order, however, was not executed by Salome, who justly loathed its cruelty. In this lamentable condition, the cruel tyrant ended his life, but began one in eternity whose pains and torments were still more unendurable, and from which he cannot hope ever to be released; while the innocent children massacred by him, rejoice for all eternity in the glories of heaven, giving humble thanks to God for having thus admitted them into His presence.

*****

Hymn: Salvete Flores

All Hail! ye infant Martyr flowers,
Cut off in life’s first dawning hours:
As rosebuds snapt in temptest strife,
When Herod sought your Saviors life.

You, tender flock of lambs, we sing,
First victims slain for Christ your King:
Beside the very altar, gay
With palms and crowns, 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.

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