someminutes ere, by this most barbarous method, life became extinct.
Next was brought forward Manoel Ferreira, and with him an effigy ofJoseph Policarpio, who had escaped,--the former habited merely in ashirt and drawers. The unfortunate wretch was bound to one of theposts, seated on an iron chair, with the effigy opposite to him, twofriars administering to him the consolations of religion. The boat wasthen unloaded of its cargo of wood and barrels of tar, which were placedunder and upon the scaffold, he being surrounded by faggots, and a panof sulphur placed beneath him. The executioners and workmen nowdescended from the scaffold; a friar, prompted by zeal for the welfareof the criminal's soul, and feeling he might afford him comfort in hismoments of agony, with noble intrepidity remained to the last moment,while the former, lighting their torches, set fire to the fabric inevery direction. The wind having blown till now across the scaffold, itwas expected that the flames would soon put an end to the wretch'ssufferings; but, suddenly changing, it blew them directly away from him;his shrieks and groans, while he thus slowly roasted, being dreadful tohear, the good friar remaining near him till he was himself scorched,and compelled to fly for his life, hitherto regardless of the shouts ofthe people to call him away.
The greater proportion of the populace were horrified at this dreadfulevent; but some were not yet satiated with blood. "What!" cried oneruffian, "are these all? I thought we were to have many more."
"Stay patiently, my friend, till to-morrow," answered another; "we shallhave a fresh batch then. This is far better worth seeing than abull-fight, or an Auto-da-fe. Our Prime Minister is a fine fellow; hedoes not do things by halves."
"Thank Heaven, my dear master is still alive!" exclaimed Pedro, with adeep-drawn breath, as he hastened, sick with horror, to make furtherinquiries for the Count.
The flames burnt brightly up, and, after twenty minutes, the shrieks ofthe burning wretch ceased,--death had put an end to his sufferings.
At length, by four o'clock, the bodies of the ten human beings, who hadthat morning breathed with life, the scaffold, and all the instrumentsof torture, were reduced to one small heap of black ashes. One ceremonyremained to be performed. The ashes were swept together by theexecutioners, and scattered upon the bosom of the Tagus, so that not avestige remained on the face of the earth of those who had once been.People gazed upon the spot of the tragedy: one blackened circle alonemarked it. All that had passed seemed like some dreadful dream of adisordered brain. People rubbed their eyes, and looked again and again,to persuade themselves of the reality.
When the account was brought to the Minister--"Tremble, haughtyPuritanos!" he exclaimed. "Now I have ye in my power."
The military band now struck up a martial air, the troops moving off theground to their quarters, and the officers of justice to their homes.
That very evening, the King, for the first time since the attack,appeared in public, holding a Court for all his nobility. None daredabsent themselves; but all wore an air of gloom and fear; for, feelingas they did, it was impossible to say who might be the next victims tothe Minister's policy.
The account of the above-mentioned dreadful execution we have translatedfrom a very valuable manuscript work in our possession, written by onewho was, we conceive, an eye-witness of the scene he describes, thoughwe have rather softened and curtailed, than enlarged upon, its horrors.He was certainly no friend of the Prime Minister's; but there is aminute exactness in his descriptions, and an upright honesty in hisobservations, which gives us no reason to doubt their correctness.
The fidalgos of Portugal have never forgotten the lesson they that daylearned. Alarm and mistrust entered into every social circle; no onedared write, or scarce speak, to another, for fear of treachery; and dayafter day the prisons were filled with fresh victims of the Minister'sdespotism. The most trivial expressions were remarked and punished withrigour. One day, a nobleman, a licensed favourite at Court, wasconversing with the Queen and a party of ladies, when the subject of thelost King Sebastian was introduced, one asserting that the common peoplefirmly expected his return. "Oh, they are perfectly right," exclaimedthe Count: "King Sebastian reigns at present in Portugal."
A few days after this speech he found himself an inhabitant of a prison,in which he lived for many years.
The King now bestowed on his Minister the title of the Count of Oyeras,nor was he made Marquis of Pombal for many years afterwards.
Though the King still drove about as usual unattended, Carvalho neverappeared abroad without a body-guard to attend him, so fearful had hebecome of the revenge of the friends of those he had slaughtered orimprisoned. The most beneficial act of his life to Portugal was theexpulsion of the Jesuits, nearly all of whom he transported to Italy,the rest he imprisoned; among the latter was the Father Jacinto daCosta, who never more appeared in the world. He was too subtle a foe tobe allowed to wander loose. He is supposed to have died in one of thesolitary dungeons built by Carvalho's command.
Malagrida was also imprisoned; but three years passed before he wasbrought to trial. He was delivered up into the hands of the spiritualcourt of the Inquisition of Portugal, who found him guilty of heresy,hypocrisy, false prophecies, impostures, and various other heinouscrimes, for which they condemned him to be burnt alive, having firstundergone the effectual public and legal degradation from his orders.He obtained, by way of mitigation, that he should be strangled beforethe faggots were kindled around him. The whole ceremonial was adjustedaccording to the fashion of the most barbarous times. A lofty scaffold,in the square of the Rocio, was erected in the form of an amphitheatre,and richly decorated, convenient seats being provided for the mostdistinguished nobility, and the members of the administration, who wereformally invited as to a spectacle of festivity. Fifty-two persons werecondemned to appear in the procession of this Auto-da-fe, clothed in redgarments and high conical caps, with representations of devils, in allattitudes and occupations, worked on them; but Malagrida, who walked attheir head, was alone to furnish the horrible amusement of the day.Crowds assembled from all parts to witness the spectacle, and shoutedwith savage glee as the flames consumed the remains of the insane oldman. Hypocrite and knave though he had been, he was then more fit forcommiseration than punishment.
As his ashes were scattered to the wind--"Now!" exclaimed the PrimeMinister, "I have no other foes to fear!"
Volume 3, Chapter XIX.
Ours is a tale of human woe and human suffering; of blighted hopes, ofdisappointed ambition, of noble promise, and of bright aspirationsdoomed never to be realised; of crime, of repentance, of despair adescription of a dark and gloomy picture, with but a few green spots toenliven it--a picture of the world!
We have long lost sight of the beloved of the Count d'Almeida, the fairDonna Clara Christovao, and we now return to her with delight, for welove to gaze upon a being young, innocent, and lovely as she was. Onher return from Lisbon, her father had allowed her to remain at home forsome months, to recruit her strength and spirits among the scenes of herchildhood, after all the terror and danger she had undergone; nor didhe, during that time, once refer to the monastic life to which he haddedicated her; indeed, he tried to forget it himself; and would,perhaps, though not addicted to changing his purpose, have deferred thefatal time from year to year till death had removed him from the world,had he not his father confessor by his side, who at length thought fitto remind him of his vow. It is needless to say, he had repented of it,though he would not acknowledge it to himself, and he strenuouslyendeavoured to persuade the father that he could in no way compromisehis soul by deferring the commencement of the year of probation to afuture period; but the latter was firm, painting the enormity of suchconduct in colours so glowing, so that the unhappy father was obliged toyield, and promised to make no further delay.
For reasons known only to herself, Donna Clara had firmly refused toperform her confession before Father Alfonzo, and taking advantage ofthe privilege allowed to every member of a family, she had selected avenerable and w
orthy priest as her confessor, whose best qualificationwas his kind and simple heart, and his innocent and credulous belief inall the miracles, the relics, and the infallibility of his Church.
Father Alfonzo, who well knew his character, lost no opportunity ofwinning his regard, and thus making a tool of him in his plans on Clara,which, though delayed, he had not abandoned. No; the devil, in whatevershape he appear is ever treacherous, watchful, and persevering, andnaught but the armour of innocence can turn aside his deadly shafts.
Clara had learnt to confide in the good priest, and flew to him on alloccasions for consolation and advice; and now, when the fidalgo, urgedon by his confessor, again proposed to her to fulfil her mother's vow byentering a convent, she requested permission, before determining, toconsult her ghostly adviser on the subject.
She hastened to the aged priest, telling him her unwillingness