The Apostle of South Africa. Adalbert Ludwig Balling

to safety across the border, until such time when Austrian troops were able to occupy the entire region. But the Vorarlberger did not think of vacating Mariastern:

      “How could eighty people escape without arousing suspicion? If we had followed the minister’s advice, surely all our buildings would have been ransacked and burnt to the ground the very next day. So we went by the ancient counsel: Fortes fortuna juvat – fortune favours the brave! Putting our trust in God and St. Joseph, by whose help we had overcome hundreds of obstacles in the past, we remained where we were but ready to defend ourselves to the blood. Even the Pasha could not have protected us from the excesses which were soon perpetrated everywhere … – The day the Austrians, our compatriots and brothers in the Faith, marched into Bosnia was a red-letter day for us. I was at the head of those welcoming them and had the honour of riding next to the Duke of Wuerttemberg, commander-in-chief of this military action! Although the capital had already fallen to the Austrians, a fanatical Turk in our area did not stop inciting an uprising against them. It was rumoured that he and his hordes would take Banjaluka by lightning attack. But because everything remained calm, these rumours were not taken seriously. Two weeks had already elapsed since the beginning of the occupation and everything seemed to be quiet. But unknown to us, the country was seething. We found this out on the eve of the Assumption of Our Lady.”

      Around four o’clock in the morning the bell rang at the monastery entrance. Puffing and panting Franciscans asked for asylum. They had fled from a band of rebels. Listening to their report, Prior Francis acted immediately by ordering the most capable Brothers to barricade doors and windows and carry stones and bricks to the first floor. Already the first townspeople were flocking into the monastery. Anticipating a raid, the cattle had been driven into the woods and now the Prior ordered that the teachers take the orphans to the woods as well. Soon Mariastern resembled a military camp. Fr. Francis asked a desperate man who was carrying a bundle of flails where he was taking them. The man pointed to the church and explained: “If the Turks try to climb in through those tall windows, the flails come in handy for bashing their heads!” The Prior chuckled: “At least here was someone who used his head to think!” Before long, the Franciscan convent in Banjaluka went up in flames, the roof truss blazing away furiously.

      Abbot Francis:

      “None of us had the slightest doubt as to what the Turks would do to us if we fell into their hands alive. Nothing could save us from their vengeance. But then, out of the blue, the Austrians marched in. The sound of their drums and trumpets put the rebels to flight, many of them escaping to the woods, never to be seen again. The following day, I and the young Franciscan parish priest of Banjaluka, a friend of mine, rode together to the outskirts of town. It broke my heart to see the huts of so many poor Christians burnt to cinders!”

      The Austrian general imposed martial law on Banjaluka. Every day, hundreds of rebels were dragged before the tribunal and dozens were executed, while others tried to escape execution by calling on “Father Franz”. He was able to save many. When the commander in chief ordered an outdoor Mass to be said and the Pasha invited, the Prior celebrated it in appreciation of what the commander had done to restore peace and reconciliation among the different ethnic and religious groups in the Balkans.