St. s. Perpetua and Felicity: The Prison Diary
of Two Mothers

Two Women, One Cell

In AD 203, in the Roman province of Africa, a group of catechumens — Christians preparing for baptism — were arrested in Carthage under a persecution ordered by the emperor Septimius Severus. Among them were Vibia Perpetua, a twenty-two-year-old married noblewoman still nursing an infant son, and Felicity, a pregnant enslaved woman imprisoned alongside her. They were held together with three companions, Revocatus, Saturninus, and Secundulus, along with their catechist, Saturus, who would later voluntarily join them in prison and in death.

A Diary Written From Inside a Cell

What makes their story historically extraordinary is not only their martyrdom but its documentation. A substantial portion of The Passion of Saints Perpetua and Felicity is presented as Perpetua's own prison diary, written in the first person, recording her visions, her fear, and her repeated confrontations with her father, who visited her again and again begging her to recant for the sake of her family and her infant son. Scholars regard this diary section as one of the earliest surviving Christian texts written by a woman — a rare, direct first-person voice from the very early Church, later completed and circulated by another hand, quite possibly Tertullian, after her death.

"I Cannot Call Myself Anything Other Than What I Am"

In one especially vivid exchange, her father pointed to a household vessel and asked whether it could be called by any name other than what it was. When Perpetua agreed it could not, he pressed his point — surely, then, she likewise could not call herself anything other than his daughter. Perpetua turned his own logic back on him: "So also I cannot call myself by any other name than what I am — a Christian." It was a direct, recorded refusal, in her own words, to trade her identity in Christ for her family's approval or her own safety.

Felicity's Fear and Its Resolution

Felicity faced a separate anguish: Roman law forbade the execution of pregnant women, and she feared she would be separated from her companions and martyred alone, later, among strangers, rather than dying together with the community she had come to love. Two days before the scheduled games, she gave birth to a daughter in prison — the child was taken in and raised by a Christian woman in the community — and Felicity was able to face the arena together with Perpetua and the others, exactly as she had prayed to do.

Martyred Together in the Arena

On March 7, 203, the group was led into the amphitheater at Carthage as part of games celebrating the birthday of the emperor's son. Perpetua and Felicity were attacked by a wild heifer, chosen, according to the account, specifically because they were women. Both survived the initial mauling; witnesses recorded that the two women stood, embraced and kissed each other, before gladiators finished the executions with the sword. The account states that Perpetua, still conscious, guided the trembling hand of the inexperienced young gladiator to her own throat.

Honored at the Heart of the Mass

Their witness was treasured immediately: St. Augustine, more than a century later, preached multiple sermons in their honor, remarking on how remarkable it was that so much of their story survived in a woman's own words. Their names are included together among the small number of early martyrs listed by name in the Roman Canon, the First Eucharistic Prayer still prayed at Mass today — a mark of how central their memory became to the early Church's self-understanding.

Helper

Reflection Questions:

1. Perpetua's father tried repeatedly to talk her out of her faith by appealing to family loyalty. Has anyone you love ever asked you to soften or hide your faith for their comfort, and how did you respond?
2. Felicity feared being separated from her companions in her final trial and prayed specifically to face it together with them. Who are the people you most want beside you in your hardest moments, and are you investing in those relationships now?
3. Perpetua wrote her diary from inside a prison cell, not knowing if anyone would ever read it. Is there a part of your own faith journey worth writing down, even privately, for what it might mean to you or someone else later?
4. She refused to be called anything other than what she truly was — a Christian — even at the cost of her family's approval. Is there an area of your life where you soften your identity in Christ to avoid tension?
5. Their names are still spoken at every Mass that uses the Roman Canon, twenty centuries later. What does it mean to you that ordinary people''s faithfulness can be remembered for that long?