Attend Mass for the Holy Rosary
The feast of Our Lady of the Rosary, also known as the feast of Our Lady of Victory, commemorates the Christian victory at the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, attributed to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary through the prayer of the Rosary. Attending Mass today is a way to honor Our Lady and the power of this prayer. If you’d like to attend a Traditional Latin Mass, check out a Mass near you here. Offer this Mass in thanksgiving for the gift of the Rosary and its role in your spiritual life.
Give Rosaries as Gifts
In honor of the feast, consider giving Rosaries to family members, friends, or those in need of spiritual encouragement. You could choose to give a beautiful Rosary with special significance (such as one blessed by a priest or one made of meaningful materials). You could also share Rosary booklets or guides for those unfamiliar with how to pray it. This gesture of generosity can help others discover the spiritual benefits of daily devotion to the Rosary.
Read About the Battle of Lepanto
The Battle of Lepanto was one of the most significant naval battles in history, taking place on October 7, 1571. The Christian fleet, united under the Holy League and facing an overwhelming Ottoman force, achieved an improbable victory. Pope Pius V had urged all Christians to pray the Rosary for victory, and after the battle was won, he credited the victory to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Spend time reading about this battle—whether in books or online—and reflect on the power of prayer and Mary’s maternal protection over the Church. A great resource is G.K. Chesterton’s poem Lepanto.
Here is G.K. Chesterton’s poem Lepanto, written in 1911. This stirring work celebrates the pivotal naval battle of Lepanto in 1571, when a Christian fleet defeated the Ottoman Turks, an event attributed to the intercession of Our Lady of the Rosary.
Lepanto
By G.K. Chesterton
White founts falling in the Courts of the sun,
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;
There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard;
It curls the blood-red crescent, the crescent of his lips;
For the inmost sea of all the earth is shaken with his ships.
They have dared the white republics up the capes of Italy,
They have dashed the Adriatic round the Lion of the Sea,
And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss,
And called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross.
The cold queen of England is looking in the glass;
The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass;
From evening isles fantastical rings faint the Spanish gun,
And the Lord upon the Golden Horn is laughing in the sun.
Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard,
Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred,
Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,
The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall,
The last and lingering troubadour to whom the bird has sung,
That once went singing southward when all the world was young.
In that enormous silence, tiny and unafraid,
Comes up along a winding road the noise of the Crusade.
Strong gongs groaning as the guns boom far,
Don John of Austria is going to the war,
Stiff flags straining in the night-blasts cold
In the gloom black-purple, in the glint old-gold,
Torchlight crimson on the copper kettle-drums,
Then the tuckets, then the trumpets, then the cannon, and he comes.
Don John laughing in the brave beard curled,
Spurning of his stirrups like the thrones of all the world,
Holding his head up for a flag of all the free.
Love-light of Spain—hurrah!
Death-light of Africa!
Don John of Austria
Is riding to the sea.
Mahound is in his paradise above the evening star,
(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)
He moves a mighty turban on the timeless houri’s knees,
His turban that is woven of the sunset and the seas.
He shakes the peacock gardens as he rises from his ease,
And he strides among the tree-tops and is taller than the trees,
And his voice through all the garden is a thunder sent to bring
Black Azrael and Ariel and Ammon on the wing.
Giants and the Genii,
Multiplex of wing and eye,
Whose strong obedience broke the sky
When Solomon was king.
They rush in red and purple from the red clouds of the morn,
From the temples where the yellow gods shut up their eyes in scorn;
They rise in green robes roaring from the green hells of the sea
Where fallen skies and evil hues and eyeless creatures be,
On them the sea-valves cluster and the grey sea-forests curl,
Splashed with a splendid sickness, the sickness of the pearl;
They swell in sapphire smoke out of the blue cracks of the ground,—
They gather and they wonder and give worship to Mahound.
And he saith, “Break up the mountains where the hermit-folk can hide,
And sift the red and silver sands lest bone of saint abide,
And chase the Giaours flying night and day, not giving rest,
For that which was our trouble comes again out of the west.
We have set the seal of Solomon on all things under sun,
Of knowledge and of sorrow and endurance of things done,
But a noise is in the mountains, in the mountains, and I know
The voice that shook our palaces—four hundred years ago:
It is he that saith not ‘Kismet’; it is he that knows not Fate;
It is Richard, it is Raymond, it is Godfrey in the gate!
It is he whose loss is laughter when he counts the wager worth,
Put down your feet upon him, that our peace be on the earth.”
For he heard drums groaning and he heard guns jar,
(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)
Sudden and still—hurrah!
Bolt from Iberia!
Don John of Austria
Is gone by Alcalar.
St. Michael’s on his mountain in the sea-roads of the north
(Don John of Austria is girt and going forth.)
Where the grey seas glitter and the sharp tides shift
And the sea-folk labour and the red sails lift.
He shakes his lance of iron and he claps his wings of stone;
The noise is gone through Normandy; the noise is gone alone;
The North is full of tangled things and texts and aching eyes,
And dead is all the innocence of anger and surprise,
And Christian killeth Christian in a narrow dusty room,
And Christian dreadeth Christ that hath a newer face of doom,
And Christian hateth Mary that God kissed in Galilee,—
But Don John of Austria is riding to the sea.
Don John calling through the blast and the eclipse
Crying with the trumpet, with the trumpet of his lips,
Trumpet that sayeth ha!
Domino gloria!
Don John of Austria
Is shouting to the ships.
King Philip’s in his closet with the Fleece about his neck
(Don John of Austria is armed upon the deck.)
The walls are hung with velvet that is black and soft as sin,
And little dwarfs creep out of it and little dwarfs creep in.
He holds a crystal goblet up to a darkened face,
Now smoke and steel and cannon, have shot the lichens lace;
The walls are hung with velvet that is black and soft as sin,
And little dwarfs creep out of it and little dwarfs creep in.
Don John of Austria is hidden in the smoke,
The night is full of guns and in the morrow men choke,
But Don John of Austria has burst the battle-line,
And Spain, with all her chivalry, is flooding all the wine.
Don John of Austria is shaking out the shroud;
He hath loosed the cannonade that in a hundred cities bowed,
For he hath broken silence with the cannon of his lips,
And Europe is in tumult and the towers of the ships.
The cold queen of England is looking in the glass;
The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass;
From evening isles fantastical rings faint the Spanish gun,
And the Lord upon the Golden Horn is laughing in the sun.
Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard,
Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred,
Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,
The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall,
The last and lingering troubadour to whom the bird has sung,
That once went singing southward when all the world was young.
Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,
The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall:
Don John of Austria
Is going to the war.
Commit to Praying the Rosary Daily
In honor of Our Lady of the Rosary, commit to praying the Rosary daily if you don’t already. This feast is the perfect opportunity to renew or begin this beautiful devotion. Start by praying one decade a day, or if you are already familiar with the Rosary, pray five decades (one set of mysteries). The Rosary is a powerful tool for meditation on the life of Christ and Mary, offering countless graces for those who pray it faithfully.
Pray for the Conversion of Muslims in Commemoration of Lepanto
The Battle of Lepanto was a defining moment in defending Christendom, and today, we can pray for peace and the conversion of all peoples to the Gospel, particularly Muslims. Pray specifically for their conversion to Christ through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. St. Francis of Assisi prayed for the conversion of Muslims and so should we, asking that Mary, who appeared in places like Fatima, continues to bring hearts closer to her Son.
Pray Novena to the Immaculate Heart of Mary
Say once a day for nine days, especially starting on August 13 and ending on August 21, the eve of the Feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
O Heart of Mary, Mother of God and our Mother; Heart most worthy of love, in which the adorable Trinity is ever well-pleased, worthy of the veneration and love of all the Angels and of all men; Heart most like to the Heart of Jesus, of which thou art the perfect image; Heart, full of goodness, ever compassionate toward our miseries; deign to melt our icy hearts and grant that they may be wholly changed into the likeness of the Heart of Jesus, our divine Saviour. Pour into them the love of thy virtues, enkindle in them that divine fire with which thou thyself dost ever burn. In thee let holy Church find a safe shelter; protect her and be her dearest refuge, her tower of strength, impregnable against every assault of her enemies.
Be thou the way which leads to Jesus, and the channel, through which we receive all the graces needful for our salvation. Be our refuge in time of trouble, our solace in the midst of trial, our strength against temptation, our haven in persecution, our present help in every danger, and especially at the hour of death, when all hell shall let loose against us its legions to snatch away our souls, at that dread moment, that hour so full of fear, whereon our eternity depends. Ah, then, most tender Virgin, make us to feel the sweetness of thy motherly heart, and the might of thine intercession with Jesus, and open to us a safe refuge in that very fountain of mercy, whence we may come to praise Him with thee in paradise, world without end. Amen.