CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE STAKE.
It was midnight. Eighteen days had passed since Antonio Herezuelo hadbeen stretched on the rack. His lacerated flesh had healed, hisstretched sinews had recovered somewhat of their original strength. Hischeeks 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 usualvigour; his spiritual life had never flagged nor had his faith growndim. 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 toannounce to you that unless you renounce your errors, and are forthwithreconciled to the Church, you will to-morrow suffer the just punishmentof your infidelity, your blasphemies, your crimes."
"I have confessed myself to God, who can alone forgive sins, as a lost,undone sinner, though washed in the precious blood of Jesus, andredeemed through faith in His perfect and complete sacrifice. I have,therefore, become one of the Church of the first-born. I am reconciledto God, from whom I was once separated," answered Herezuelo. "What morewould you have me do?"
"The Church knows nothing of the expressions you utter. Be reconciledto her; that is what you have to do, or you and your errors will beburnt together."
"I cannot abandon the faith I hold, even to escape the cruel death youthreaten," answered the advocate.
"Prepare, then, obstinate heretic, to meet it!" answered the friar,savagely. "Be assured that there will be no mitigation of your sentenceunless you recant; and then, in her loving mercy and kindness, if youare reconciled and confess, you will enjoy the privilege of beingstrangled 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 nameof the gentle, loving Saviour, who went about doing acts of kindness andmercy, and saving from physical suffering all who came to Him desiringto be cured!"
"I came not to bandy words with you," cried the monk; "the flames whichyou will feel to-morrow will give you a foretaste of those you will haveto endure throughout eternity as the consequence of your obduracy."
"Our blessed Lord says, `I say unto you, My friends, be not afraid ofthem which kill the body, and after that have no more than that they cando. But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear Him, which afterHe hath killed hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, fearHim.'" Herezuelo spoke these words calmly, and added, "Now, friar, Iown that you and those you serve can kill my body, but you can do nomore: my soul is in the keeping of my loving Saviour; neither the powersof earth nor hell can prevail against it; therefore I am fearless."
With a curse, the friar turned and left the cell. Herezuelo soughtstrength in prayer for the fiery trial he was to go through. "It willendure but for a few minutes, and oh, then the eternity of bliss whichwill follow!" he ejaculated. "Why should I fear? why should I tremble?My trust is in God."
Ere the sun, rising in a cloudless sky, gilded the spires of thenumerous churches of Valladolid, on the 21st of May, 1559, their bellsbegan to toll solemnly, and crowds to assemble in vast numbers in thestreets. It was Trinity Sunday; but it was not because it was theSabbath that the citizens were so early afoot, but there was to be agrand spectacle, looked for with almost the same eagerness as abull-fight. The first grand _auto-da-fe_ of Protestants was to takeplace that day, and all the people were eager to gaze at it--most ofthem for the sake of seeing so many lost and abandoned monsters put outof the world.
For this it was that the people came from all parts of the city andsurrounding country into the grand square of Valladolid to witness thespectacle which had been prepared for them by those who impiously calledthemselves ministers of the loving Jesus. In a short time the whole ofthe grand square was filled with impatient spectators, except that spaceoccupied by two large platforms between the church of Saint Francis andthe house of the Consistory. In front of the town-house, and close tothe platform intended for the inquisitors, a large box or deep-coveredbalcony had been erected for the use of the Royal Family, which theycould enter without interruption from the crowd, and from whence theycould enjoy a full view of the prisoners. Near it was a high altar,with the usual crucifixes, candlesticks, vases, and other ornaments ofthe Romish worship, made on this occasion as imposing as possible. Inthe box sat Dona Juana, Queen-Dowager of Portugal, and governess of thekingdom during the absence of her brother, Philip the Second, in theNetherlands. She was accompanied by her unhappy nephew, Don Carlos,heir-apparent to the throne, then a lad only of fourteen. It is saidthat on that occasion he vowed an implacable hatred to the Inquisition.To that fell tribunal, there can be little doubt, he became a helplessvictim. Intimation of the intended festival had publicly been made inall the churches and religious houses in the neighbourhood. Theattendance of the civil authorities and of the clergy was requested; andthat the multitude might be encouraged to come, an indulgence of fortydays was proclaimed to all who should witness the ceremonies of the act.
While outside preparations were going forward, the officials of theInquisition were busy within the walls of the prison. The prisoners,being assembled, were clothed in the several dresses in which they wereto make their appearance in public. Those who had erred only in aslight degree were clothed simply in black. The other prisoners wore asan-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 paintedflames burning downwards, called _fuego revolto_, to intimate that theyhad escaped the fire; while the san-benito and coroza of those doomed tobe burnt alive were covered with flames burning upwards, around whichwere painted devils carrying the faggots or fanning the fire.
Now, on that bright May morning, a procession was to be seen movingforth from the Inquisition of Valladolid. First marched a band ofsoldiers to clear the way, and then came a number of priests in theirgaudy robes--alb, chasuble, tunic, and other garments, the names ofwhich are familiar to modern ears. They were attended by acolytes andboys of various theological colleges, chanting the Litany in alternatechoruses. Then came the mournful band of prisoners--those in blackfirst, those marked with the _fuego revolto_ following, and thosedestined to the flames walking last. Each prisoner was attended by twofamiliars of the Inquisition, and each of those destined to die, inaddition, was accompanied by two friars, who employed all the argumentsthey could bring forward, all the eloquence they could command, inendeavouring to induce the prisoners to recant and confess their errors.Among the last of the sad band came Antonio Herezuelo. Though his facewas 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 inhis hand he carried an extinguished torch, while his companions destinedto the stake also carried extinguished torches or crosses. Manytrembled and tottered as they moved along; indeed, no one bore himselfmore bravely than the young advocate. After the prisoners came thelocal magistrates, the judges, and officers of state, accompanied by atrain of nobility on horseback. Then came the secular and monasticclergy; and at some distance, as if they were too great and important tomingle with ordinary people, rode in slow and solemn pomp the members ofthe Holy Office, preceded by their fiscal, bearing the standard of theInquisition. That accursed bloodstained banner was composed of red silkdamask, on which the names and insignia of Pope Sextus the Fourth, andFerdinand the Catholic, the founders of the hellish tribunal, wereconspicuous; and it was surmounted by a crucifix of massive silveroverlaid with gold, which the ignorant populace had been taught to holdin the highest veneration. These were the persons who were to take thechief part in the performances of the day; they were followed by theirfamiliars on horseback, who, with many of the principal gentry of thecountry, formed their body-guard.
With a few
years' judicious educating by the Jesuits, and a continuanceof supineness and incredulity as to Rome's designs on the part ofBritish Protestants, of which all denominations are guilty, it is not atall impossible that similar scenes may be enacted in England.Ritualistic forms and ceremonies, and public processions, and, stillmore, the insidious teaching of numbers professing to be ministers ofreligion, are accustoming the people to a system which must end in theirsubjugation 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 outeager to catch a sight of the condemned prisoners and the grandinquisitors as they ascended their respective platforms. The lattertook their places, and then the Queen-Regent and the young prince tooktheir places in the royal box, or bed of state, as it was called,surrounded by a number of the chief nobility of the kingdom.
It was six o'clock in the morning, and the sun was already glittering onthe gilded crosses and other devices on the tops of the banners, when,the company having taken their places, Francisco Baca, the presidinginquisitor, was seen advancing to the bed of state on which the Regentand her nephew were seated; and then, in an authoritative tone, heproffered to them an oath to support the Holy Office, and to reveal toit everything contrary to the faith which might come to their knowledge.The Prince was seen to hesitate, and not till urged by his aunt wouldhe consent to take the oath. It was the first time such an oath hadbeen exacted from any of the Royal Family. Poor Prince! that look ofhis sealed his fate!
Antonio Herezuelo, from the moment he saw his wife dragged off by thefamiliars of the Inquisition, had been kept in utter ignorance of whathad become of her. Not a reply could he get from any of the sternfamiliars who attended him. It vain he petitioned to be told whethershe was in their power--whether she was well in health--whether she hadbeen placed under examination. A sinister look was the only answer hereceived.
"Ay, I must trust in God!" Yes, Antonio, you--all who are in trouble,sickness, or any other adversity--may trust in Him with confidence,assured that He in His good time will bring you out of all yourtroubles.
As the familiars were clothing the prisoners in their habits of infamy,Herezuelo thought to himself, "How can I more advantageously employ thelast moments of my life than by declaring to the misguided people theglad tidings of salvation, by telling them of the Saviour's love, andthat they require no other priest, no other intercessor than He?" Thusresolved to speak, he walked firmly onward to death, like a soldier tothe fatal breach; but ere he reached the platform, at a sign from themonks, who had in vain, with all the sophistries they could utter, beenendeavouring to shake his faith, one of the familiars thrust a gag intohis mouth, which the other secured, and he was rendered speechless.Bitter for an instant was the anguish he felt, but prayer quicklyrestored 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 repeatedby many in the crowd.
In flowing language and sonorous tones the Bishop put forth the claimsof the Church of Rome to infallibility. He spoke of the importance ofunity, of the crime of heresy and schism; and, finally, he enlarged onthe duty of all Catholics to deliver over to justice all who were in theslightest degree guilty of those crimes. The sermon concluded, theclerk of the tribunal read the sentence of the penitents, who, on theirknees, and with their hands laid on the Missal, repeated the confession.Those around them stood aside as the presiding inquisitor, descendingfrom his throne, advances to the altar, and absolves the penitents _aculpa_ under the obligation to bear the several punishments which havebeen awarded, whether banishments, penances, whipping, hard labour, orimprisonment--the deprivation of property being in all cases rigidlyenforced, to the great advantage of the inquisitors. The Bishop, then,in a loud voice, administered to all present on the platform, as well asto the surrounding multitude, an oath binding them to live and die inthe communion of the Roman Church, and to uphold and defend against alladversaries the tribunal of the Holy Inquisition.
As he spoke the multitude fell on their knees, lowly bowing their heads.Of the vast assemblage two men only were standing, with heads erect andarms folded on their bosoms. They were the martyrs resolved to undergothe fiery trial of the stake rather than disavow one article of theirholy faith. They were Antonio Herezuelo, the advocate, and Francisco deVibero Cazalla, parish priest of Hermigos, who was likewise gagged.There were twelve other unhappy persons condemned to death, but, havingconfessed, they were allowed the poor favour of being strangled beforetheir bodies were committed to the flames. They, less courageous thanthe advocate and Francisco Cazalla, were compelled to kneel. But whydoes Antonio Herezuelo start and cast an inquiring look towards thegroup of black penitents kneeling near the altar? Before he could casta second look they were hid from his sight; and now the Bishop ofPlacencia advances towards the group of those sentenced to death, andwith a knife commences the operation of degrading the priests byscraping off the crown of the head the part which was supposed to havereceived the holy oil at their consecration. Then garment after garmentwas torn from them, the Bishop pronouncing all the time terrible curseson their heads. This done, the secular judges were summoned to receivethe prisoners, and the Inquisitor formally delivered them over intotheir hands, saying, as he did so, in a hypocritical tone of compassion,"We beseech you to treat these poor people with the utmostcommiseration--not to break a bone of their bodies, nor to shed a dropof their blood." He said this, not only knowing that the prisoners wereto be executed, but having especially arranged that they should be so--having, indeed, a few days before, acquainted the judge with the numberof prisoners to be delivered over to him, in order that the requiredquantity of stakes, faggots, and other things necessary for theexecution might be in readiness. The canons of the Romish Church,however, denounced against ecclesiastics who should be accessory to theinflicting of any bodily injury, and the above-mentioned expressionswere used to avoid the censure of irregularity. The magistrates, ontheir part, swore that they would faithfully execute the sentencesagainst the persons of the heretics delivered over to them.
All these ceremonies--audacious mockery of justice--occupied severalhours; and now the condemned prisoners were compelled to march in frontof the royal box, and pass those who had by recanting escaped theextreme penalty of the law. Again Antonio Herezuelo looked eagerly atthe black penitents. What an expression of agony was seen to rise onhis countenance as he beheld among them his beloved Leonor, the wife ofhis bosom, formerly united to him, as he supposed, in the one blessedfaith and hope which animated his own soul. Who could paint thefeelings which passed through his swelling heart? He would have givenworlds to have been able to utter a loving entreaty to her again to takehold of the blessed truths of which he was even then reaping thefruition; but the gag prevented him. One prayer he breathed from thedepths of his soul for her, and as he passed he cast at her a look ofsuch unutterable agony, yet of such loving reproof and regret, that,like the lightning's flash, it went to her heart. Well she understoodits meaning. "Oh, my beloved Leonor," it seemed to say, "why did younot seek for grace to hold fast to the truth, and for strength to gothrough the fiery trial, that, as we have lived happily together onearth, we might have ascended together to be ever with our risen Lordand Saviour?"
Full well she understood that silent appeal. It sunk into her heart."Yes, yes, my Antonio, I will join you," she exclaimed, stretching outher hands towards him. In vain she made the attempt to rush into hisarms, for the cruel familiars held her back. In vain she struggled.She saw that to join her beloved lord in life was hopeless. She drewherself up with dignity. "Inquisitors, I will die with my husband," sheexclaimed. "I renounce for ever the gross errors of the Romish faith,which I have been induced to assume. I am ready to die as a trueProtestant--a believer in the simple truths of the Gospel."
"Away with her! Away with her to prison!" cried the Inquisitor. "Sheis mad; sh
e is beside herself!"
"I am a Protestant. I will die with my husband," exclaimed Leonor; butbefore she could say more a gag was thrust into her mouth, and she wassurrounded by friars and familiars, so as to conceal her from the publicview.
The look Herezuelo cast towards Leonor was the last he gave her onearth. Not another was allowed him. He was hurried off by thestony-hearted familiars, with his brother martyrs and their companionsin affliction. The first part of the exhibition had been a cruel, ablasphemous mockery--that which was to follow was to be a diabolicalreality.
Those condemned to death, either by fire or strangulation, were nowformed into a melancholy procession, each person accompanied as beforeby familiars and monks, the latter disturbing the last moments of theiryellow-robed victims by their senseless exhortations. Thus theyproceeded slowly through the gates, accompanied by nearly all those whohad witnessed the first part of the proceedings; the eager crowd makingtheir observations on the appearance and bearing of the sufferers, manyof the more brutal mocking and jeering, especially as they caught sightof the two principal martyrs. It might have seemed strange to them thatof all the human beings collected they should have appeared the calmest,though the look of agony which arose on Herezuelo's brow at the sight ofhis wife had not yet left it.
Arrived at the spot where the stakes were erected and the faggots piledup, further efforts were made to induce Cazalla and Herezuelo to recant.The former, seeing his brother Augustine not at the stake, but amongthose who were to be strangled before being burned, signified his sorrowby an expressive motion of his hands. The latter remained firm asbefore, unmoved by all the exhortations of the priests and monks. Evenwhen instigated by his tempters, the unhappy Doctor Augustine Cazallaurged him to be reconciled to the Church of Rome, he turned on him alook of sorrow and compassion, mingled with contempt, which at oncesilenced the recreant from the truth. Herezuelo's calmness seemed toexcite the rage and all the evil passions of the priests and soldiers.They cursed and swore and reviled him in every possible way. "Ah! ah!in a short time, in spite of your bold looks, you will be in hell withyour associate, Luther," they shouted. To these and similar expressionshe made no sign of complaints--only turning his eyes to that blue sky towhich his beautified spirit was about to wing its flight towards themartyr's crown of glory awaiting him in the realms of the blessed.
The faggots were lighted, the flames ascended, when one of the soldiers,enraged at his constancy, plunged his lance into his body, and thussaved him from the pangs he might otherwise have had to suffer. Hisfellow-martyr died with equal firmness, and the other victims werestrangled before their bodies were cast into the flames. With them atthe same time were also cast the bones and effigy of Dona Leonor deVibero, which had appeared at the _auto_. This was done because at herhouse the Protestants had frequently assembled for prayer and praise.In a short time, of the fourteen human beings who had dragged theirtortured, lacerated limbs to the spot, a few ashes alone remained. Suchwas the termination of the first great _auto-da-fe_ of Protestants inSpain.
There was yet another spectacle to be witnessed that day. It was to seethe house of Dona Leonor de Vibero, the mother of the Cazallas, razed tothe ground, and the place on which it stood sown with salt. On the spota pillar, with an inscription stating the cause of its demolition, wasimmediately afterwards erected, and stood till the commencement of thepresent century.
It is easy to conceive how Dona Leonor de Cisneros had been inducedapparently to abandon the faith to which she had so long adhered.Falsehoods and devices of all sorts had been employed to induce her tomake her peace with Rome. Every argument which sophistry could inventhad been brought forward to shake her belief. There was a rack, withother fearful tortures, and the stake, on the one hand, and forgivenessand reconciliation with the Church on the other--ay, and a happy lifewith her Antonio. When at last the inquisitors found her stubborn, theydid not hesitate to assure her that she had less wisdom than herhusband, who had lately--convinced that the Protestant cause was lost inSpain--agreed heartily to conform to the faith of Rome, and to bereconciled to the Church. A rigid course of penance was prescribed forher, and after its performance she was told that she would be set free,and allowed to join her husband, who, as had been some others, would bebanished the kingdom, though possibly a milder punishment might beawarded him.
Could it be possible that her husband would abjure his principles? Herfaith wavered. If she remained obstinate, he might, she was assured, bebrought out to witness her death. She was meditating on these things inher solitary cell when the door opened, and the Archbishop Munebregastood before her. He spoke to her gently and kindly, as an old familyfriend. He would urge her to take his advice, and conform at once.Long she thought on the subject, but she could not pray for guidance.Why? Her conscience revolted against the act she contemplated. In ahusky voice she told the Archbishop that she would yield.
"We will endeavour, then, to induce the advocate Herezuelo to yieldalso, lovely Leonor," said the Archbishop, taking her hand and pressingit to his lips.
"Why, you told me that my husband had already yielded!" exclaimedLeonor, scarcely conscious of the act.
"I surely could not have said so, as I am not cognisant of the fact,"answered Munebrega blandly. "Be assured that for your sake I willendeavour to win him over to the truth." Much more was urged by theArchbishop, but poor Leonor's mind was in too great a whirl tounderstand the meaning of what he said. Cruel indeed was the conflictgoing on within her. "For the sake of appearances you will have toundergo some penances; but I will take care that they shall be as lightas possible, that your health may be in no way injured," he remarked;and with a treacherous smile the tempter left her.
No words can describe the unhappy Leonor's feelings at seeing herhusband among those condemned to the stake. It had been hoped byMunebrega, from the position in which she was placed, that she would nothave discovered him. The effect has been described. On being conductedback to the convent to which she had been removed, she at once refusedto continue the penances which had been prescribed. No persuasionscould make her alter her determination; and therefore, as an obstinateheretic, she was returned to a cell in the Inquisition. Munebrega wassoon in her presence. He reminded her that she was a widow andhelpless--that he had the power of setting her at liberty. He entreatedher on his knees once more to recant--to preserve her life--not to allowher beauty to be marred by a long imprisonment. She turned from himwith loathing. Munebrega well knew the importance of caution. Hischief and brother inquisitors were very indifferent what means were madeuse of (even the most abominable), provided they contributed to bringabout the objects they had in view; but they would allow no privateinterests to be gratified. Day after day Munebrega visited the unhappylady. His protestations, his arguments, every subject he introduced,only tended to strengthen her resolution. "Get thee behind me, Satan,"was her daily ejaculation when he appeared. She did not trust to herown strength, but hourly sought strength and grace from above towithstand all the trials and temptations to which she was exposed. LikePeter, she had fallen once; severe was the lesson she had learned. LikePeter's repentance, hers had been deep and truly sincere. No longer didshe trust to herself. Munebrega at last retired, gnashing his teeth athaving been foiled by a weak woman, utterly incapable of comprehendingthe mighty power which had been fighting on her side against him. Henow allowed other persons to attempt to move her.
Among others, her former admirer, Don Francisco de Vivers, was inducedto visit her. He was still unmarried. What arguments he used it is notnecessary to state. He was not hardened to the craft of the priests,and he left the prison abashed and confused. He visited her again morethan once, and the idea was entertained by the inquisitors that he wasmoving her obdurate heart. At length, however, he was missing fromValladolid, and some of his friends feared, from some words that he hadlet drop, that he had offended the inquisitors, and was immured in theirprisons.
It would be impossible
to imagine, much less to describe, the crueltiespractised on Leonor de Cisneros; and yet there were many hundreds ofdelicately-nurtured females and hidalgos of high rank suffering as shewas physically in the numerous prisons of the Inquisition throughoutSpain--many shut up in loathsome dungeons, destined never again to seethe light of day.
Numerous _autos-da-fe_ succeeded each other for the purpose of stampingout Protestant principles from Spain. The second celebrated atValladolid took place on the 8th of October, 1559, for the purpose ofcelebrating the return of Philip the Second, husband of Queen Mary ofEngland, who was employed at that time in burning her own bishops andother subjects for the same cause. King Philip was himself present,enjoying the spectacle, with his unhappy son Carlos, his sister, thePrince of Parma, three ambassadors from France, and a numerous assemblyof prelates and nobility of both sexes.
The Inquisitor-General, Valdes, advancing to the bed of state,administered the same oath which had been taken by Don Carlos and theQueen of Portugal. Philip took it without hesitation, and, rising fromhis seat, drew his sword, in token of his determination to use it insupport of the Holy Office.
A similar group to that before described, clothed in yellow garmentscovered with pictures of flames and devils, stood on the platform beforethe King and his court. The most noble-looking and highest in rank wasDon Carlos de Seso, the upturning flames on whose robe showed that hewas doomed to the stake. With him was Domingo de Roxas, Pedro deCazalla, parish priest of Pedroso, who was destined to share the fate ofhis family. Dona Isabella de Castilla, wife of Don Carlos de Seso, wasthere, and her niece, Dona Catalina--condemned to lose all theirproperty, to wear the san-benito, and to be imprisoned for life. Therewere also three nuns of San Belem; one of them, Dona Mariana de Guevara,was condemned to be strangled and then thrown into the flames; she washighly born, and even connected with Valdes, the Chief Inquisitor, buthe could not save her from the consequences of her opinions. Hissubordinates resisted the applications he was said to have made on herbehalf as an interference with their jurisdiction, and a proof ofpartiality and weakness unworthy of one of those whose office requiredhim to be insensible to the feelings of nature and friendship.
The death of Don Carlos de Seso was worthy of his life; though gagged onthe platform and on the way to execution, the instrument was removedwhen he was bound to the stake by the friars, who stood round exhortinghim to confess. He replied in a loud voice, "I could demonstrate toyou, unhappy men, that you ruin yourselves by not imitating my example;but there is no time. Executioners, light the pile which is to consumeme." These were his last words. The order was instantly obeyed, and,looking up, he died without a groan.
Another martyr was Juan Sanchez. Entrapped in the Low Countries by theemissaries of the Inquisition, he was brought a prisoner to Valladolid,and condemned to the stake. The cords which bound him having rapidlybeen consumed, he leaped unconsciously on to the stage where the friarswere confessing some who had recanted at the last moment. The friarsimmediately collected round him, and urged him to retract his errors.Looking at the unhappy penitents who were risking their salvation toescape a few moments' suffering, and then at the noble De Seso, standingunmoved amid the rising flames, he walked deliberately back to thestake, exclaiming, "I will die like De Seso." More fuel was brought,and he was quickly in the joy of his Lord.
Numbers bore testimony to "the truth as it is in Jesus" by dyingfearlessly like De Seso. At the same time, eight females, ofirreproachable character, some of them of high rank, were burned alive;among them Maria Gomez, who so nearly betrayed the Protestants during asudden fit of insanity. Having recovered her senses she returned to theProtestant faith, and soon was brought before the Inquisitors. Shesuffered with her three daughters and a sister. So hardened had thepopulace become by similar scenes, that not a single expression ofsympathy escaped them as they thus witnessed the destruction of a wholefamily. Year after year passed away, and the same horrors continued tobe enacted; the bloody-minded inquisitors being hounded on to their workof death by the bigot king; that king who, it has truly been said, wasbusily engaged in making Spain what she in a few years became, thelowest and least influential among the nations of Europe; while as trulywas Elizabeth, by her wise measures, laying the foundation of England'sgreatness and power.
The Last Look: A Tale of the Spanish Inquisition Page 8