The Vale of Cedars; Or, The Martyr

by Grace Aguilar

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  "Doth Heaven Woo the free spirit for dishonored breath To sell its birthright? Doth Heaven set a price On the clear jewel of unsullied faith And the bright calm of conscience?"

  MRS. HEMANS.

  A private council immediately followed the confession received; butthough it continued many hours, no active measures could at once bedecided upon. Secret and illegal, according to Spanish laws, as thistribunal was, it was yet an instrument of the Pope, acknowledging hissupremacy alone, and, in consequence, always receiving his protection.Civil justice, it appeared, could not reach those who were protectedby; the head of the church; but Ferdinand's mind was far too capaciousto admit this plea. Rooted out of his dominions--in its presentform, at least--he resolved it should be, and Isabella confirmed theresolve. Not only was its secret existence fraught with the most awfulcrimes and injustice, regarded generally, but it was derogatory andinsulting to that sovereign power, which Ferdinand and Isabella hadboth determined on rendering supreme. Father Francis, whose usualenergy of thought and counsel appeared completely annihilated from thefearful tale he had heard, strenuously urged the sovereigns to waitthe arrival of Torquemada, the Queen's confessor, who was now everyhour expected, and whose sterner and more experienced mind would givethem better counsel. To this both sovereigns agreed, but one measurethey adopted at once. As Grand Inquisitor, the principal actor in thisatrocious drama might be servant of and solely answerable to the Pope;as Don Luis Garcia, he was subject to Ferdinand and Isabella, and assuch amenable to the laws of Spain. A schedule was therefore drawn up,stating that whereas the man commonly known as Don Luis Garcia, hadbeen convicted of many atrocious and capital crimes, and, amongstthe gravest, of having instigated and commanded the murder of DonFerdinand Morales, and done to death his own tool, the real committerof the deed, that Arthur Stanley might be charged with, and executedfor, the same; the sovereigns of Spain called upon their lovingsubjects--of every rank and every degree, in all and every part of therealm--to unite in endeavoring to discover, and deliver up the saidDon Luis Garcia, to the rigor of the law. An enormous reward wasoffered for delivering him alive into the hands of justice, and halfthe sum, should he have resisted to the death. The proclamation wasmade by sound of trumpet in various parts of Segovia, and copies sent,with all possible speed, to every city, town, and even village, overSpain. A correct description of his person accompanied the schedule,and every possible measure was adopted that could tend to hisapprehension. So strong was the popular feeling against him that everyclass, almost every individual, felt it a personal duty to assist, inthis case, the course of justice. He had deceived all men, and all menin consequence leagued themselves against him. So secretly, and yetso judiciously, were the plans for his seizure carried on, and souniversal the popular ferment, that it appeared marvellous how hecould have escaped; and yet weeks merged into months, and, though themeasures of the Santa Hermandad in no way relaxed, Don Luis was stillat large, and effectually concealed. We may here state at once--thoughit carries us much in advance of our present scene--that FatherFrancis resolved at all costs to purge the church of Spain fromthis most unholy member; and, authorized by the sovereigns, made avoluntary pilgrimage to the court of St. Peter's, obtained an audiencewith the Pope, laid the case before him, and besought the penalty ofexcommunication to be fulminated against the hypocrite who had daredto use, as cover for most atrocious villany, the pure and sacredordinances of the church. Alexander the Sixth, himself a worker ofsuch awful crimes that he was little capable of entering into the pureand elevated character of the Sub-Prior, heard him calmly, smiledsneeringly, and then informed him, he was too late. The worthy andzealous servant of Rome, known to men as Don Luis Garcia, had beenbefore him, made confession of certain passions as exciting erringdeeds, to which all men were liable, had done penance, receivedabsolution, and was in a fair way of rising to the highest eminence inthe church.

  Father Francis remonstrated, urged, dared to speak bolder truths thanhad ever before reached the papal ear but all without effect: andthis truly good and spiritual man returned to Spain stricken to thedust. He reported the failure of his mission; heard, with bowedhead and aching soul, the natural indignation of Ferdinand, and thequieter, but to him, still more expressive sorrow, at this fearfulabuse of her holy religion from Isabella; and then, with anearnestness impossible to be resisted, conjured the royal permissionto retire entirely from all interference in public life. He could not,he said, support the weight of shame, which, falling on his church,had affected him individually. Vain were the royal solicitations, vainthe love of the people, vain the entreaties of the abbot and brethrenof his convent; he resigned the office of Sub-Prior, relinquishedevery religious and secular honor, and buried himself in the mostimpenetrable solitude, fraught with austerity and mortification,personal penance, and yet devoted to such extraordinary acquirements,that, though for long years his very existence was well nighforgotten, when next he burst upon the astonished eyes of the world,it was no longer as Father Francis, the Sub-Prior of a Franciscanmonastery, a good and benevolent monk, but as the learned priest, thesagacious statesman, the skilful general, ay, and gallant warrior--thegreat and good CARDINAL XIMENES!

  To wait the arrival of Torquemada, the sovereigns and their councilunanimously resolved. It was but a very brief delay, and would permita more effectual extermination of the secret office than could bedecided upon by the laity alone. Ere the day closed, and in presenceof the sovereigns, of all the nobles, officers of state, the SantaHermandad and principal citizens, Arthur Stanley was formallypronounced INNOCENT of the crime with which he had been charged. Thegolden spurs, which had been ignominiously hacked from his heels, werereplaced by the aged Duke of Murcia; knighthood again bestowed by theKing; and Isabella's own hand, with winning courtesy, presented hima sword, whose real Toledo blade, and richly jewelled hilt, shouldreplace the valued weapon, the loss of which had caused him suchunmerited suffering, and shame.

  "May it be used for us, as faithfully and nobly as its predecessor,"were Isabella's concluding words; "and its associations, SenorStanley, be nought but those of joy."

  The young man's cheek burned, but there was a deep shadow on hiscountenance, which neither the honors he received, nor his own urgentefforts had power to remove. He looked wistfully after the sovereignsas they quitted the church, then with an irresistible impulse, brokefrom the throng with whom he had been endeavoing to join in animatedconverse, and, suddenly kneeling before Isabella, exclaimed in low,agitated tones--

  "_She_--she may still be in the villain's power. Oh, my liege, waitnot for Torquemada's arrival and leave her to die! He will wreak hisfull vengeance upon her."

  "Trust me for her safety, my young friend; measures have been alreadytaken to secure it," was Isabella's instant reply, in a tone so fullof sympathy, that Arthur caught her robe, and pressed it to his lips.

  She smiled kindly and passed on, still accompanied by Ferdinand, not alittle astonished at her words, and still more so when Marie's wholetale was imparted to him.

  On retiring to rest that night, his thoughts still engrossed withvain speculations as to the destined fate of Marie,--Arthur, halfunconsciously, unsheathed Isabella's magnificent gift, to judge ofthe temper of the blade; and, as he did so, a scroll, which had beentwisted round the steel, fell to the ground. He raised it with hastycuriosity, but his heart throbbed as he recognized the handwriting ofthe Queen, and deciphered the following words:--

  "To Senor Stanley, in secrecy and confidence, these: The eye of loveis said to pierce through all disguises. In this instance it hasproved less discriminative than woman's sympathy, and woman'spenetration. She in whom we believe Senor Stanley interested, and towhose exertions he owes the publication of his innocence in time tosave life as well as honor, is safe, and under the protection of herQueen. Let this suffice for present peace, and speak of it to none.ISABELLA R."

  Arthur's first impulse was to press the precious letter to his lips,an
d gaze upon it till every letter seemed transferred from the paperto his heart; his next was to sit down on the nearest seat, and buryhis face in his hands, actually bewildered by the flash of light,which with those brief words came. Disguise--exertion--could it bepossible? Nay, it must be! The soft touch of that little hand, thespeaking look of those lovely eyes, again thrilled through his verysoul, and he knew their meaning now. Mysterious, bewildering as itwas, the novice, the poor, exhausted, seeming boy--was Marie! Again heowed his life to her, and the wild yearning to gaze on her again, toclasp her to his bosom, to pour forth his gratitude, to soothe andshield, became so painfully intense, as almost to banish the joy,which her rescue from danger ought to have occasioned. Had it not beenfor her refusal to bear witness against him, not even the month'sgrace would have been allowed him; he would have been executed atonce. She had saved him then--she had saved him now! And his heart soswelled he knew not how to contain its fulness, how to calm it down,to wait till the Queen's further pleasure should be known. But hopesprung up to give him comfort; Isabella would accomplish her intentionof conversion; Marie could never resist her, and then--then, oh! shewould be all, all his own, and life shine, for both the brighter, forits former tempest clouds. Meanwhile, he had such sweet thoughts, suchlovely images, to rest on. He owed his life, his honor, to her; and hethought that it was his devoted gratitude which so deepened love. Howsweet is such illusion! how refreshingly soothing to be grateful, whenthe object of that gratitude has been, and is still, the dear objectof our love! How often we deceive ourselves, and imagine we areexperiencing the strongest emotions of gratitude, when, had anindifferent person conferred the same benefit, we might feel itindeed, but it would more pain than pleasure; and be an obligation, soheavy that we should never rest, till in some measure, at least, itwas returned. How contrary the impression of benefits from those welove!

  Never before had the appearance of the Queen's confessor, the stern,and some said cruel, Torquemada, been hailed with such excitement. Hewas speedily informed of the late transactions, and his counsel mostearnestly demanded by both sovereigns. He required some days todeliberate, he said, so momentous and important was the affair; andwhen he did reply, his counsel was entirely opposed to what manyhoped, and Ferdinand expected. Indignant as he declared himself tobe, at the abuses in religion, he yet put a strong and most decidednegative on the royal proposition, of utterly exterminating thisunlawful tribunal. With all his natural eloquence, and in mostforcible language, he declared that, if kept within proper bounds,restrained by due authority, and its proceedings open to theinspection of the Sovereign, and under him, the archbishops and otherdignitaries of the church, the Inquisition would be a most valuableauxiliary to the well-doing and purifying of the most Catholickingdom. He produced argument after argument of most subtle reasoning,to prove that every effort to abolish the office in Spain had beenentirely useless: it would exist, and if not publicly acknowledged,would always be liable to abuse and desecration; that the only meansof exterminating its secret, and too arrogant power, was to permit itspublic establishment, and so control it, that its measures should beopen to the present, and to every successive sovereign. He allowed thenecessity, the imperious necessity of rooting out the _secret_ office;but he was convinced this could not be done, nor in fact would thechurch allow it, unless it should be recognized in the face of allEurope, as based on alike the civil and religious laws of Spain.

  On Ferdinand the wily churchman worked, by proving that his royalprerogative would be insured rather than injured by this proceeding;that by publicly establishing the Inquisition, he proved hisresolution to control even this power, and render it a mere instrumentin his sovereign hand; that his contemplated conquest of the Moorscould not be better begun than by the recognition of a holy office,whose glory it would be to bring all heathens to the purifying andsaving doctrines of the church of Rome. Ferdinand, though wary andpolitic himself, was no match for Torquemada's Jesuitical eloquence;he was won over to adopt the churchman's views with scarcely an effortto resist them. With Isabella the task was much more difficult. Heappealed guardedly and gently to her tender regard for the spiritualwelfare of her people, sympathized with her in her indignant horrorof the crimes committed under religion's name, but persisted that theevil of a secret Inquisition would never be remedied, save by themeasure he proposed. He pledged himself never to rest, till thepresent halls and ministers of darkness were exterminated from everypart of Spain; but it could only be on condition of her assent to hiscounsel. He used all his eloquence; he appealed to her as a zealousCatholic, whose first duty was to further and purify her faith; butfor four days he worked in vain; and when she did give her consent, itwas with such a burst of tears, that it seemed as if her forebodingeye had indeed read the shrouded annals of the future, and beheldthere, not the sufferings of individuals alone, but of the decline anddishonor of that fair and lovely land, which she had so labored toexalt. Ere another year from that day had passed, the Inquisition waspublicly established throughout the kingdom; and Torquemada, as firstGrand Inquisitor, reaped the reward of his persevering counsel, andsealed, with blood, the destiny of Spain.

  To her confessor, Isabella revealed the story of Marie, and her ownintentions. Torquemada heard the tale with a stern severity, littleencouraging to the Queen's ideas of mercy; he insisted that herconversion _must_ be effected; if by kindness and forbearance, welland good; but if she were obstinate, harshness must be resortedto; and only on that condition would he grant Isabella the desiredblessing on her task. He did not fail to bring forward the fact ofa zealous Catholic, such as Don Ferdinand Morales, wedding andcherishing one of the accursed race, and conniving at her secretadherence to her religion, as a further and very strong incentive forthe public establishment of the Inquisition, whose zealous care wouldeffectually guard the sons of Spain from such unholy alliances infuture. He urged the supposition of Marie's having become the motherof children by Ferdinand; was it not most probable, nay, certain, thatshe would infuse her own unbelief in them; and then how mixed anddefiled a race would take the place of the present pure Castilians.Isabella could reply nothing satisfactory to this eloquent reasoning.The prejudices of education are strong in every really earnest heart;and though her true woman's nature revolted at every thought ofseverity, and towards one so suffering as Marie, she acknowledged itsnecessity, in case of kindness failing. Under the seal of confession,she imparted her full plan to Torquemada, entering more into minuteparticulars than she had done even to her husband, or in words toherself. It was so fraught with mercy and gentleness that Torquemadagave his consent, believing it utterly impossible, if Marie reallyloved, as Isabella fancied, that she could resist.

  On the departure of her confessor, the Queen communed, as was herfrequent custom, long and severely with her own heart. What was thecause of her extreme dislike to using harshness? With any other memberof that detested race, she felt Torquemada's counsel would have beenall-powerful; she would have left it all to him. It was then merepersonal regard, fear of the suffering which, did she cause Marieincrease of pain, she should inflict upon herself, and this must notbe. She was failing in the duty she owed her religion, if she couldnot summon resolution to sacrifice even affection at its shrine. Andso she nerved herself, to adopt Torquemada's stern alternative, ifindeed it were required. How strange is self-delusion! how difficult,even to the noblest, most unselfish natures, to read another spirit bytheir own! Isabella felt it might be a duty to sacrifice affection forreligion, and nerved herself to its performance at any cost. Andyet that Marie should do so, she could not believe; and if she did,harshness and suffering were to be her sole reward! Oh, that inreligion, as in every thing else, man would judge his brother man byhis own heart; and as dear, as precious, as his peculiar creed may beto him, believe so it is with the faith of his brother! How much ofmisery, how much of contention, of cruelty and oppression, would passaway from this lovely earth, and give place for Heaven's own unity andpeace, and harmony and love.