His physical nature at length gave way, though his courage did not fail him. He fainted. Death would have been a happy release, but his torturers took pains not to allow him that boon; restoratives were administered, and consciousness again returned. The surgeon who stood by, however, gave notice that he must not be subjected, for a time, to equal torture, or he would sink under it. He was therefore removed on a blood-besprinkled stretcher to another chamber, and the inquisitors proceeded with callous indifference to examine a fresh prisoner who was now brought forward.

The person who was next led before the inquisitors was of a character very different from that of Herezuelo. A glance at the rack made him tremble in every limb. The inquisitors saw immediately that he would afford them but little trouble, though, at the same time, that he might be made useful by his giving information regarding others. He might have pa.s.sed in the world in quiet times as an earnest true Christian, but now alarm for his personal safety overcame every other consideration. He at once incriminated himself, and was soon induced to bring d.a.m.natory accusations against his friends. When all the information which could thus be obtained from him was secured, he was dismissed, though still ignorant of the fate which awaited him--it might be, if victims were required, to be consigned to the flames, or perhaps to add to the sad band of penitents supposed to have recanted their errors. Such was the character of several of those accused of heresy, though by far the larger number of persons seized by the Inquisition gladly suffered death rather than deny the truth. And now another prisoner appears--a female. She is clothed in black from head to foot.

As the light from the lamp which hangs from the roof falls on her countenance, it is seen to be very pale, but not enough so to detract from the beauty of those young and fair features.

"Leonor de Cisneros, you are brought here accused of holding opinions which, if generally entertained, would be subversive of the opinions of our holy faith," said the Inquisitor, in a peculiarly harsh voice.

"Have you become sensible of your errors? and are you prepared to recant them?"

"I hold to the doctrines which I have been taught from my earliest days, and which I find clearly set forth in the blessed Word of G.o.d. I am, therefore, not aware that I hold any errors," answered Leonor, calmly.

"What do you mean by G.o.d's holy Word?" asked the Inquisitor.

"The Bible," said Leonor, firmly.

"Are you aware that the Bible is prohibited to the laity, and that, were it not so, it is not susceptible of any private interpretation?" asked the Inquisitor.

"I am aware that without the aid of G.o.d's Holy Spirit, which when Christ ascended up on High, He promised to us as our Instructor and Enlightener, we cannot expect to read aright this blessed Gospel," said Leonor. "I am aware that in the Second Epistle of Saint Peter, 1st chapter, 20th verse, there is this expression--'Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the Scripture is of any private interpretation.' 21st, 'For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man; but holy men of G.o.d spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.' I am aware, however, that the Greek word epilusis, which has been translated interpretation, means rather _impetus_, _impulse_; and therefore that the clear meaning is that no writer of the Scripture wrote according to his own mind or thoughts, but entirely as he was moved or impelled by the Holy Spirit. Therefore Peter in no respect contradicts his Lord, who says, addressing the people, 'Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which speak of me.' Oh, my lords, what I have done--what thousands have done in Spain--has simply been to obey our loving Saviour in reading His holy Word, in striving to carry out His precepts by a.s.sembling ourselves together in prayer, by exhorting and comforting one another. If this be a crime, I am a criminal; but if not, why imprison us? why torture us? why kill us?"

She stretched out her hand as she spoke. Her youth and beauty, her pathetic look, the truth which came from her lips, might have moved hearts of stone, but nothing could move the demon-inspired minds of the Inquisitors of Spain--the base instruments of the Pope and his supporters, Valdes and Philip. They compressed their lips as Leonor spoke.

"You have disobeyed the Church," answered the Inquisitor, with an unmoved countenance. "Unless you recant your errors, your punishment is certain. It may be that you will see the wisdom of so doing, and follow the example of those you love best. Remove the woman."

So ended the first trial of Leonor de Cisneros. The inquisitors consulted together how she should be treated. She was evidently not likely to change her opinions by argument; the Archbishop was unwilling to have her subjected to torture. He had made up his mind that her husband must die. He was too clever a heretic, even should he recant, to be allowed to live. He was not likely ever to recant. But Leonor, she must be won over; her life must be saved. Notwithstanding her knowledge of Scripture, the clear declaration she had made of Protestant principles, the Archbishop did not despair. He had seen many who, firm at first, had, after a few weeks' solitary confinement and scanty food, with occasional visits from friends desirous of saving them, completely recanted, and acknowledged their errors. He knew, too, the subtle arguments, the system of deception, the threats, the promises, the various artful methods of proceeding which could be brought to bear on a prisoner. Should these fail, he had other means in store by which he hoped to make her give up what he honestly thought her folly. How could a weak woman venture to set herself up in opposition to the Church?

Many others, to be sure, had ventured to do the same, but few had spoken as she had done, and several had at sight of the rack recanted, and given all the information required of them.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE STAKE.

It was midnight. Eighteen days had pa.s.sed since Antonio Herezuelo had been stretched on the rack. His lacerated flesh had healed, his stretched sinews had recovered somewhat of their original strength. His cheeks were still pale, his voice, when he spoke to himself, was hollow, his eye had lost its brightness, yet his mind retained much of its usual vigour; his spiritual life had never flagged nor had his faith grown dim. He was pacing slowly and still painfully up and down his cell, when the door silently opened, and a friar stood before him.

A harsh voice uttered these words: "Antonio Herezuelo, I have come to announce to you that unless you renounce your errors, and are forthwith reconciled to the Church, you will to-morrow suffer the just punishment of your infidelity, your blasphemies, your crimes."

"I have confessed myself to G.o.d, who can alone forgive sins, as a lost, undone sinner, though washed in the precious blood of Jesus, and redeemed through faith in His perfect and complete sacrifice. I have, therefore, become one of the Church of the first-born. I am reconciled to G.o.d, from whom I was once separated," answered Herezuelo. "What more would you have me do?"

"The Church knows nothing of the expressions you utter. Be reconciled to her; that is what you have to do, or you and your errors will be burnt together."

"I cannot abandon the faith I hold, even to escape the cruel death you threaten," answered the advocate.

"Prepare, then, obstinate heretic, to meet it!" answered the friar, savagely. "Be a.s.sured that there will be no mitigation of your sentence unless you recant; and then, in her loving mercy and kindness, if you are reconciled and confess, you will enjoy the privilege of being strangled before the flames reach your body."

A scornful smile came over the features of the prisoner.

"A gracious boon, forsooth! And this Church calls itself after the name of the gentle, loving Saviour, who went about doing acts of kindness and mercy, and saving from physical suffering all who came to Him desiring to be cured!"

"I came not to bandy words with you," cried the monk; "the flames which you will feel to-morrow will give you a foretaste of those you will have to endure throughout eternity as the consequence of your obduracy."

"Our blessed Lord says, 'I say unto you, My friends, be not afraid of them which kill the body, and after that have no more than that they can do. But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear Him, which after He hath killed hath power to cast into h.e.l.l; yea, I say unto you, fear Him.'" Herezuelo spoke these words calmly, and added, "Now, friar, I own that you and those you serve can kill my body, but you can do no more: my soul is in the keeping of my loving Saviour; neither the powers of earth nor h.e.l.l can prevail against it; therefore I am fearless."

With a curse, the friar turned and left the cell. Herezuelo sought strength in prayer for the fiery trial he was to go through. "It will endure but for a few minutes, and oh, then the eternity of bliss which will follow!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Why should I fear? why should I tremble?

My trust is in G.o.d."

Ere the sun, rising in a cloudless sky, gilded the spires of the numerous churches of Valladolid, on the 21st of May, 1559, their bells began to toll solemnly, and crowds to a.s.semble in vast numbers in the streets. It was Trinity Sunday; but it was not because it was the Sabbath that the citizens were so early afoot, but there was to be a grand spectacle, looked for with almost the same eagerness as a bull-fight. The first grand _auto-da-fe_ of Protestants was to take place that day, and all the people were eager to gaze at it--most of them for the sake of seeing so many lost and abandoned monsters put out of the world.

For this it was that the people came from all parts of the city and surrounding country into the grand square of Valladolid to witness the spectacle which had been prepared for them by those who impiously called themselves ministers of the loving Jesus. In a short time the whole of the grand square was filled with impatient spectators, except that s.p.a.ce occupied by two large platforms between the church of Saint Francis and the house of the Consistory. In front of the town-house, and close to the platform intended for the inquisitors, a large box or deep-covered balcony had been erected for the use of the Royal Family, which they could enter without interruption from the crowd, and from whence they could enjoy a full view of the prisoners. Near it was a high altar, with the usual crucifixes, candlesticks, vases, and other ornaments of the Romish worship, made on this occasion as imposing as possible. In the box sat Dona Juana, Queen-Dowager of Portugal, and governess of the kingdom during the absence of her brother, Philip the Second, in the Netherlands. She was accompanied by her unhappy nephew, Don Carlos, heir-apparent to the throne, then a lad only of fourteen. It is said that on that occasion he vowed an implacable hatred to the Inquisition.

To that fell tribunal, there can be little doubt, he became a helpless victim. Intimation of the intended festival had publicly been made in all the churches and religious houses in the neighbourhood. The attendance of the civil authorities and of the clergy was requested; and that the mult.i.tude might be encouraged to come, an indulgence of forty days was proclaimed to all who should witness the ceremonies of the act.

While outside preparations were going forward, the officials of the Inquisition were busy within the walls of the prison. The prisoners, being a.s.sembled, were clothed in the several dresses in which they were to make their appearance in public. Those who had erred only in a slight degree were clothed simply in black. The other prisoners wore a san-benito, a loose garment of yellow cloth, called in Spanish _zamara_, and on their heads was placed a high conical pasteboard cap, called _coroza_. On the dresses of those who were to be strangled were painted flames burning downwards, called _fuego revolto_, to intimate that they had escaped the fire; while the san-benito and coroza of those doomed to be burnt alive were covered with flames burning upwards, around which were painted devils carrying the f.a.ggots or fanning the fire.

Now, on that bright May morning, a procession was to be seen moving forth from the Inquisition of Valladolid. First marched a band of soldiers to clear the way, and then came a number of priests in their gaudy robes--alb, chasuble, tunic, and other garments, the names of which are familiar to modern ears. They were attended by acolytes and boys of various theological colleges, chanting the Litany in alternate choruses. Then came the mournful band of prisoners--those in black first, those marked with the _fuego revolto_ following, and those destined to the flames walking last. Each prisoner was attended by two familiars of the Inquisition, and each of those destined to die, in addition, was accompanied by two friars, who employed all the arguments they could bring forward, all the eloquence they could command, in endeavouring to induce the prisoners to recant and confess their errors.

Among the last of the sad band came Antonio Herezuelo. Though his face was pale, he walked with a firm step, and he replied now with a smile, now with a few gentle words, to the exhortations of the two friars. He, as was the case with his companions, had a halter round his neck, and in his hand he carried an extinguished torch, while his companions destined to the stake also carried extinguished torches or crosses. Many trembled and tottered as they moved along; indeed, no one bore himself more bravely than the young advocate. After the prisoners came the local magistrates, the judges, and officers of state, accompanied by a train of n.o.bility on horseback. Then came the secular and monastic clergy; and at some distance, as if they were too great and important to mingle with ordinary people, rode in slow and solemn pomp the members of the Holy Office, preceded by their fiscal, bearing the standard of the Inquisition. That accursed bloodstained banner was composed of red silk damask, on which the names and insignia of Pope s.e.xtus the Fourth, and Ferdinand the Catholic, the founders of the h.e.l.lish tribunal, were conspicuous; and it was surmounted by a crucifix of ma.s.sive silver overlaid with gold, which the ignorant populace had been taught to hold in the highest veneration. These were the persons who were to take the chief part in the performances of the day; they were followed by their familiars on horseback, who, with many of the princ.i.p.al gentry of the country, formed their body-guard.

With a few years' judicious educating by the Jesuits, and a continuance of supineness and incredulity as to Rome's designs on the part of British Protestants, of which all denominations are guilty, it is not at all impossible that similar scenes may be enacted in England.

Ritualistic forms and ceremonies, and public processions, and, still more, the insidious teaching of numbers professing to be ministers of religion, are accustoming the people to a system which must end in their subjugation to sacerdotal despotism.

An immense concourse of people of the lower ranks closed the procession, vociferating to one another, with open eyes and necks stretched out eager to catch a sight of the condemned prisoners and the grand inquisitors as they ascended their respective platforms. The latter took their places, and then the Queen-Regent and the young prince took their places in the royal box, or bed of state, as it was called, surrounded by a number of the chief n.o.bility of the kingdom.

It was six o'clock in the morning, and the sun was already glittering on the gilded crosses and other devices on the tops of the banners, when, the company having taken their places, Francis...o...b..ca, the presiding inquisitor, was seen advancing to the bed of state on which the Regent and her nephew were seated; and then, in an authoritative tone, he proffered to them an oath to support the Holy Office, and to reveal to it everything contrary to the faith which might come to their knowledge.

The Prince was seen to hesitate, and not till urged by his aunt would he consent to take the oath. It was the first time such an oath had been exacted from any of the Royal Family. Poor Prince! that look of his sealed his fate!

Antonio Herezuelo, from the moment he saw his wife dragged off by the familiars of the Inquisition, had been kept in utter ignorance of what had become of her. Not a reply could he get from any of the stern familiars who attended him. It vain he pet.i.tioned to be told whether she was in their power--whether she was well in health--whether she had been placed under examination. A sinister look was the only answer he received.

"Ay, I must trust in G.o.d!" Yes, Antonio, you--all who are in trouble, sickness, or any other adversity--may trust in Him with confidence, a.s.sured that He in His good time will bring you out of all your troubles.

As the familiars were clothing the prisoners in their habits of infamy, Herezuelo thought to himself, "How can I more advantageously employ the last moments of my life than by declaring to the misguided people the glad tidings of salvation, by telling them of the Saviour's love, and that they require no other priest, no other intercessor than He?" Thus resolved to speak, he walked firmly onward to death, like a soldier to the fatal breach; but ere he reached the platform, at a sign from the monks, who had in vain, with all the sophistries they could utter, been endeavouring to shake his faith, one of the familiars thrust a gag into his mouth, which the other secured, and he was rendered speechless.

Bitter for an instant was the anguish he felt, but prayer quickly restored to him his serenity.

"See! see! there is his lordship Melchior Cano, Bishop of the Canaries, mounting the pulpit. Listen! he is to preach the sermon," was repeated by many in the crowd.

In flowing language and sonorous tones the Bishop put forth the claims of the Church of Rome to infallibility. He spoke of the importance of unity, of the crime of heresy and schism; and, finally, he enlarged on the duty of all Catholics to deliver over to justice all who were in the slightest degree guilty of those crimes. The sermon concluded, the clerk of the tribunal read the sentence of the penitents, who, on their knees, and with their hands laid on the Missal, repeated the confession.

Those around them stood aside as the presiding inquisitor, descending from his throne, advances to the altar, and absolves the penitents _a culpa_ under the obligation to bear the several punishments which have been awarded, whether banishments, penances, whipping, hard labour, or imprisonment--the deprivation of property being in all cases rigidly enforced, to the great advantage of the inquisitors. The Bishop, then, in a loud voice, administered to all present on the platform, as well as to the surrounding mult.i.tude, an oath binding them to live and die in the communion of the Roman Church, and to uphold and defend against all adversaries the tribunal of the Holy Inquisition.

As he spoke the mult.i.tude fell on their knees, lowly bowing their heads.

Of the vast a.s.semblage two men only were standing, with heads erect and arms folded on their bosoms. They were the martyrs resolved to undergo the fiery trial of the stake rather than disavow one article of their holy faith. They were Antonio Herezuelo, the advocate, and Francisco de Vibero Cazalla, parish priest of Hermigos, who was likewise gagged.

There were twelve other unhappy persons condemned to death, but, having confessed, they were allowed the poor favour of being strangled before their bodies were committed to the flames. They, less courageous than the advocate and Francisco Cazalla, were compelled to kneel. But why does Antonio Herezuelo start and cast an inquiring look towards the group of black penitents kneeling near the altar? Before he could cast a second look they were hid from his sight; and now the Bishop of Placencia advances towards the group of those sentenced to death, and with a knife commences the operation of degrading the priests by sc.r.a.ping off the crown of the head the part which was supposed to have received the holy oil at their consecration. Then garment after garment was torn from them, the Bishop p.r.o.nouncing all the time terrible curses on their heads. This done, the secular judges were summoned to receive the prisoners, and the Inquisitor formally delivered them over into their hands, saying, as he did so, in a hypocritical tone of compa.s.sion, "We beseech you to treat these poor people with the utmost commiseration--not to break a bone of their bodies, nor to shed a drop of their blood." He said this, not only knowing that the prisoners were to be executed, but having especially arranged that they should be so-- having, indeed, a few days before, acquainted the judge with the number of prisoners to be delivered over to him, in order that the required quant.i.ty of stakes, f.a.ggots, and other things necessary for the execution might be in readiness. The canons of the Romish Church, however, denounced against ecclesiastics who should be accessory to the inflicting of any bodily injury, and the above-mentioned expressions were used to avoid the censure of irregularity. The magistrates, on their part, swore that they would faithfully execute the sentences against the persons of the heretics delivered over to them.

All these ceremonies--audacious mockery of justice--occupied several hours; and now the condemned prisoners were compelled to march in front of the royal box, and pa.s.s those who had by recanting escaped the extreme penalty of the law. Again Antonio Herezuelo looked eagerly at the black penitents. What an expression of agony was seen to rise on his countenance as he beheld among them his beloved Leonor, the wife of his bosom, formerly united to him, as he supposed, in the one blessed faith and hope which animated his own soul. Who could paint the feelings which pa.s.sed through his swelling heart? He would have given worlds to have been able to utter a loving entreaty to her again to take hold of the blessed truths of which he was even then reaping the fruition; but the gag prevented him. One prayer he breathed from the depths of his soul for her, and as he pa.s.sed he cast at her a look of such unutterable agony, yet of such loving reproof and regret, that, like the lightning's flash, it went to her heart. Well she understood its meaning. "Oh, my beloved Leonor," it seemed to say, "why did you not seek for grace to hold fast to the truth, and for strength to go through the fiery trial, that, as we have lived happily together on earth, we might have ascended together to be ever with our risen Lord and Saviour?"

Full well she understood that silent appeal. It sunk into her heart.

"Yes, yes, my Antonio, I will join you," she exclaimed, stretching out her hands towards him. In vain she made the attempt to rush into his arms, for the cruel familiars held her back. In vain she struggled.

She saw that to join her beloved lord in life was hopeless. She drew herself up with dignity. "Inquisitors, I will die with my husband," she exclaimed. "I renounce for ever the gross errors of the Romish faith, which I have been induced to a.s.sume. I am ready to die as a true Protestant--a believer in the simple truths of the Gospel."

"Away with her! Away with her to prison!" cried the Inquisitor. "She is mad; she is beside herself!"

"I am a Protestant. I will die with my husband," exclaimed Leonor; but before she could say more a gag was thrust into her mouth, and she was surrounded by friars and familiars, so as to conceal her from the public view.

The look Herezuelo cast towards Leonor was the last he gave her on earth. Not another was allowed him. He was hurried off by the stony-hearted familiars, with his brother martyrs and their companions in affliction. The first part of the exhibition had been a cruel, a blasphemous mockery--that which was to follow was to be a diabolical reality.