One of the persons accused by Torquemada is Señor Pecho, who is worth a great deal of money. Torquemada seizes it all, and puts the owner to death. The widow and children are beggars in the street; but Isabella, as a special favor, graciously gives them a trifle, but appropriates the remainder of the estate to her own use. Not only does she appropriate this, but many other estates, till the Pope, seeing that she is getting more than her share of the of the spoils, sends a legate to look after his portion. But Isabella knows how to manage the legate. She gives him a liberal share of the plunder, and he reports that the expenses of the Office use up pretty much all of the property of the accused.
Thousands are cast into prison. More than two thousand men and women are burned — thrown into furnaces. Other thousands flee from tho country.
"Do not take such harsh measures," is the advice of some of her friends.
"It is better for the service of God that the conutry should be depopulated than that it should be polluted with heresy," Isabella replies.
The queen is so devoted to her religion that she would rather see her country a desert than that men should question the authority of the Pope, or disregard the teachings of the bishops and priests. Pity has no place in her heart. She has all power in her realm. Men and women must believe as she believes and as the Church teaches, or she will exterminate them. Day by day the terrible work goes on. The Inquisitors march in solemn procession through the streets of the cities, conducting their victims to the place of execution. Without doubt the queen, Torquemada, and the Inquisitors sincerely believe that they are doing that which will be acceptable to God. And no doubt they are also pleased to divide up the estates of those whom they have put to death; at any rate, they can make themselves more comfortable in life; and it is gratifying to know that, while adding to their own possessions, they have been zealous for the faith and the welfare of the Church. By promoting the interests of the Church, they are laying up treasures in heaven. Will not the good done here be remembered there? Will not God reward them for the service, by giving them good things through all eternity? The more zealous they are for him on earth the greater will be their pleasures in paradise. It is their duty and privilege to eradicate heresy. They have no right to be pitiful or tender-hearted when the interests of the Church and the glory of God are at stake.
Among others burned is the good Bishop of Tarragons. Many widows are condemned, especially widows of rich men. Is it that they are greater heretics than others? Or is it that Isabella and Torquemada can secure their estates? They are working zealously to bring all the world to one way of thinking — their way. Theirs is the right way, and if any one doubts it, he is to be put to death. Liberty of conscience, liberty of thought, speech, or action, are all unknown. The Pope has decreed that no one shall dissent from his decree or authority, or, if doing so, death shall be his portion.
If a witness shall swear falsely, or cause a heretic, or one who is not a heretic, to be put to death, he shall not be put to death in turn, though the Holy Office may, if it see fit, put him in prison.
If a man be accused, he must pay the men who ask questions for their time and trouble of accusing him!
If a man be condemned and put to death, infamy shall forever be heaped upon his children, on the ground that children are partakers of the sins of their parents. But the Pope is merciful, and the Holy Office may sell the children into slavery.
If a man be condemned and his property confiscated, though he may be innocent, the Holy Office is under no obligation to return it, on the ground that to be poor will make men humble!
If a man blaspheme, this is his punishment: he must stand outside of the church on Sundays when mass is said. But if he say anything against the Pope, the Church, the Virgin, or if he read the Bible, or do not confess to the priest, he shall be put to death I If a priest swear profanely, he may be fined, but the public shall know nothing of it.
If a man be a heretic, his wife must leave him. A man must leave his wife if she be an unbeliever. Children must forsake parents, and parents children.
Persons condemned by the men who ask questions are burned to death. The burning is called an auto-da-fé — the act of faith. It is a great occasion. Ferdinand and Isabella, all the grandees and ladies, the cardinals, archbishops, bishops, priests, and multitudes of people, assemble to witness the burning. There is a grand procession. The school children; the priests, in companies, wearing their robes, carrying crowns, banners, and candles, escort the condemned to death. The victims wear yellow gowns, upon which are embroidered black devils with hoofs, horns, and tails. Gags are thrust into the victims' months, so that they may not speak to the people.
Following the condemned are the magistrates, nobles, bishops, cardinals, the king and queen, the men who ask questions carrying a blood-red flag. A great crowd surges along the streets.
The procession reaches the place of burning, where a bishop or priest preaches a sermon praising the Pope, heaping upon the condemned the insulting epithets. They are dogs, vipers, wild beasts, enemies of God and man, fit only to be given over to the flames — to burn eternally. The sheriff reads their sentence; the bishop and priests chant a psalm.
"Deal with them gently," says the judge to the executioner, who chains them to the stakes, heaps the wood around them, and sets it on fire; and
so the men and women, whose only crime has been dissent from believing as the Pope believes, are put to death. Ferdinand, Isabella, Torquemada, and the Pope take possession of their estates, and the children are reduced to beggary. In a short time the country is filled with beggars, who wander through the streets in rags, homeless and friendless. It is a crime to give charity to children of condemned heretics. They are outcasts, shut out from all human sympathy.
While Ferdinand and Isabella are thus rooting out heresy, they are trying to drive the Moors from the country. Armies are marshalled, battles fought, cities besieged. The Moors are compelled to leave their beautiful palaces, where they have enjoyed quiet and peace for centuries; but Ferdinand and Isabella are strongest, and they are driven from the homes where the fountains are ever flowing amidst the palm-trees in the spacious courts. The king and queen accompany the armies and animate the soldiers by their presence.
One day a middle-aged man, a sailor, comes into camp, bringing a letter for Fernando de Talavera, Isabella's old confessor — a letter written by Talavera's friend, the good prior Father Perez, of the Convent of Rabiada, near Palos, introducing the sailor, who has an idea that the earth is round, and that if he were to sail west lie might reach the east. The sailor wants to lay the project before Ferdinand and Isabella.
Father Talavera receives the sail or courteously, and introduces him to Ferdinand and Isabella, who listen with interest to his project; but they have other things on hand, and cannot aid him in fitting out an expedition to explore unknown seas. The sailor, however, is not a man to be discouraged by trifles. He will wait, years will go by, and his beard will turn to gray; but let him not be forgotten, for we shall see him again.
The war against the Moors goes on. When Ferdinand and Isabella are in need of money to pay the troops, the rich Jews supply them, for there are many Jews in the country. They are thrifty and industrious, carry on trade, attend to their own affairs, care for their poor, and are peacefully disposed. In all Spain there are no better