MORE CRUEL THAN WILD BEASTS.
There are times when, looking round these fair lands of Beechcot, and
thinking on the quiet and prosperous life which I have spent in their
midst these many years, I fall to wondering whether those dark days in
Mexico were real or only a dream. It seems to me, sometimes, that all
which then happened to me and to my companion, Pharaoh Nanjulian, must
have been but a dream and naught else, so horrible were the cruelties
and indignities practiced upon us. You could hardly bring yourselves to
believe, you who have lived quiet, stay-at-home lives, how merciless
were the men into whose hands we fell, and if I did but tell you
one-tenth of the malignity which they displayed towards us, you would
not wonder that I sometimes feel inclined to wonder if my memories of
that most unhappy time are not dreams rather than realities. But I know
well that there is nothing unreal about them, for I bear on my body
certain marks which came there from the rack and the pincers, and there
are moments when I seem to endure my agony over again, and the sweat
drops from my brow as I think of it.
We were led into the City of Mexico through the gate of St. Catherine,
and were thence marched forward to the Placa del Marquese, close by the
market-place. There we were soon surrounded by a throng of folks, who
seemed not unkindly disposed towards us. Some, indeed, brought us food
from their houses, and others drink; one man handed Pharaoh Nanjulian a
coat, a noble-looking lady, closely wrapped in her mantilla, gave me
money, hurrying away ere I could refuse the gift. I suppose we looked so
woe-begone and vagabondish in our rags and tatters, that the hearts of
these people melted towards us. Nevertheless it was plain to see that we
were prisoners, and that the monk had no notion of putting us in the way
of getting a ship.
Now, as we stood there in the Placa, closely guarded by the Indians, the
monk having disappeared for the moment, who should come up to us but
that polite gentleman, Captain Manuel Nunez, arrayed in very brave
fashion and smiling his cruel smile as usual. He pushed his way through
the throng, folded his arms, and stood smiling upon us.
"So, Master Salkeld," he said, "you have fallen into the tiger's den
after all. Certainly what was born to be burned will never be drowned. I
looked to see you again, Senor."
"We shall possibly meet yet once again," said I. "And it may be where
you and I are on level terms, Captain Nunez. If that time should ever
come, ask God to have mercy upon you, for rest assured that I shall
have none."
"Brave words, Senor, brave words! I wish it were possible that you might
have the chance to make them good. But that I am afraid you never will
have. You are safely caged."
Then he began to abuse us to the people, bidding them look upon us for
English dogs, Lutherans, enemies of God, sweepings of the English sink
of iniquity, for whom neither rack, thumb-screw, nor stake was
sufficient reward. Me he denounced to the people as a runaway criminal,
describing me in such terms as made my blood boil within me, and my
hands itch to take him by the neck and crush the life out of his wicked
heart.
"You are a liar and a knave," said I and then for the moment forgetting
my dignity as an English gentleman I spat full in his face. Bethink
you--my hands were tied behind me, and not free to use. Otherwise I had
not done it.
Now at this insult his face turned deathly white and then flushed a
bright red, and there came into his eyes a gleam which meant murder, and
plucking forth his rapier he would certainly have slain me there and
then, had not the monk returned at that instant and prevented his fury
from wreaking itself upon me. At this interference he grew still more
furious, and well-nigh foamed at the mouth, swearing by all the saints
in his calendar that he would slay me where I stood. But at a word from
the monk he smiled a grim, meaning smile, and thrusting back his rapier
into its sheath turned away from us with a face full of hate and
malignity.
We were now taken away to a hospital, where we found other
Englishmen--some sailors that had been captured by the Spaniards at sea,
and others merchants who had been taken while prosecuting their trade
in various ports in that part of the world. Some of these men had been
in captivity for many months, and they explained to us that they were
being kept for a new sitting of the Inquisition, at which, they said, we
should all be examined and possibly tortured, with a view to extracting
from us confessions that would doom us to the fire. So under this
prospect we sat down to wait, and for several weeks remained in strict
captivity, having enough to eat, but being terribly cast down by the
knowledge of what awaited us.
It appeared from such information as we could obtain that the
Inquisitors were at that time absent from the city, conducting
examinations in another part of the country, and that when they returned
our cases would be gone into. There had been no Auto-de-fe, or public
burning of heretics for a year or two, and it seemed only too probable
from what we now heard that one was meditated for the coming Good
Friday. Positive information on this point, however, we could not then
get; therefore we remained in our captivity, alternately hopeful and
despondent, praying God either to release us from our desperate
situation or to give us strength to endure whatever might be in store
for us.
About the beginning of Lent, in the year 1579, the Inquisitors returned
to the City of Mexico, and it immediately began to be whispered amongst
us that the examinations were shortly to begin. We soon found that this
was the truth, and the first intimation of it came to us in highly
unpleasant form. On Ash Wednesday we were removed from the hospital in
which we had been confined until then, and were taken through the city
to certain cells or dungeons, in which we were separately placed, so
that from that time forward we saw nothing of each other, and thus had
no companion to turn to for sympathy when our need was sorest. But as
God would have it, it befell to Pharaoh Nanjulian and to me, that as we
were being led across the market-square by our guards, there came up to
us the old gentleman whom we had saved from highwaymen on the road to
Oaxaca. He seemed vastly surprised to find us in that unhappy condition,
and insisted with some slight show of authority on our guards allowing
him to speak with us.
"Surely," said he, "ye are the two brave men who preserved me and my
daughter from those cut-throat villains as we traveled to Oaxaca. How
came ye in this company?"
"Sir," said Pharaoh, "that is what we do not know ourselves. We are two
inoffensive Englishmen, brought into this country against our wills, and
wishing or intending no harm to any man, but only anxious to find a ship
that will carry us back to our own land. Here we are treated like
malefactors and criminals, and yet we have broken no law that we know
of, nor are we brought before any judge to hear what our jailer hath
against us. If you indeed are grateful for what we did for you help us
to our liberty."
"I am grateful, friend," answered the old man, "and will do what I can
for you. But tell me your story."
So we told him all that had happened to us from the time of our leaving
England, and mentioning more particularly the treacheries practiced upon
us by Captain Nunez and Frey Bartolomeo, at the mention of whose names
he shook his head.
"I am sorry indeed for you," said he when we made an end, "and the more
so because ye are in a very grievous plight. But now, keep up your
hearts, for I have some influence with the Chief Inquisitor, and it
shall be exerted on your behalf. 'Tis truly a pity that ye are
Englishmen, but I hope ye are Christians."
"Christians we are," said Pharaoh, "and will say our Paternoster and
Credo with any man."
"'Tis well, and therefore keep up your hearts, I say. I will see to this
matter at once."
This meeting and the cheerful words spoken to us by the old man did
somewhat revive our hopes, more especially when we heard from our guards
that he was a person of some distinction in that city. So we parted,
Pharaoh and I, and were prisoned in solitary dungeons.
For the next three or four weeks I saw no man save my jailers, who fed
me chiefly on bread and water, or on maize, crushed and boiled, which
food did speedily bring me to a low and miserable condition. Indeed,
what the noisomeness of my cell and the loneliness of my state failed to
do the bad food speedily accomplished, so that within a month of my
imprisonment I became a weak and nerveless creature, and was ready to
weep at a rough word.
About three weeks before Easter I was taken before the Inquisitors and
put to the question. Now, I had expected and dreaded this ordeal, and
was not in over good a state to face it when at last it came upon me.
Nevertheless I made shift to summon my courage so that I might show a
bold front to my oppressors.
The Inquisitors sat in a small apartment hung round with black and
lighted by torches, and there was that in their appearance which was
calculated to strike terror into the stoutest heart. Behind a table, set
upon a dais, sat the Chief Inquisitor, with his assistant on one side of
him and his secretary on the other. They were all robed in black, and
their thin, ascetic faces looking out from the dark recesses of their
cowls, had in them neither mercy nor pity, nor indeed aught but
merciless resolution. There were other robed and cowled figures in the
room, but I noticed none of them particularly save the monk Bartolomeo,
who stood there ready to make accusation against me.
There was an interpreter in the apartment, a half-breed named Robert
Sweeting, whose name I desire to put on record, because he did me a
kindness at the risk of his own life. To this man the Inquisitors
addressed their questions, and through him I answered them to the best
of my ability.
They set out by asking me the full particulars of my presence in Mexico,
which questions I replied to with very great delight, as they afforded
me an opportunity of having my say as to Captain Manuel Nunez and his
fellow-villain Frey Bartolomeo, whom I did not spare, though he stood by
and heard me with an unmoved countenance. Indeed, I spake so plainly
concerning him that the Chief Inquisitor stopped me.
"It is not seemly," said he, "to speak in disrespectful terms of men
vowed to sacred offices."
To this I answered that I had been brought up from my birth to treat my
pastors and teachers with respect and reverence, but that I could feel
none for a man who had abused his sacred office by deceiving unfortunate
men.
Then they began to examine me as to my faith, and commanded me to say
the Paternoster, Ave Maria, and the Creed in Latin, which, rubbing up
such Latin as I remembered from Mr. Timotheus Herrick's instructions, I
made difficult shift to do, informing them at the same time that I could
say all these things much more readily in English. And this part of my
examination being over, and my judges seeming satisfied, I began to
breathe more freely, hoping that all might end well.
But now they began to examine me on more particular and nicer points,
and it was plain to me that if I did but make a slip they would visit it
upon my body. For they demanded first, whether I believed or not that
any bread or wine remained in the paten or in the chalice after the
consecration, and second, whether or not the bread and the wine were not
actually the very body and blood of our Lord. To have answered "No" to
these questions would have insured my death, therefore I cudgeled my
brains for a fitting reply to them, well knowing what depended upon it.
And bethinking me of the articles and teachings of my own church, I made
answer that I was no scholar or theologian, but a simple country
gentleman that had left subtle points to priests and schoolmen, and had
always held what they taught me, namely, that our blessed Lord is indeed
verily and truly present in the sacrament of His body and blood. This
answer seemed to satisfy them, but presently they asked me if I did not
follow the teachings of Doctor Martin Luther. I cheerfully replied to
that, that I knew naught about Doctor Luther, and had never heard his
name mentioned until I came into Mexico; which was plain truth, for we
were out of the world at Beechcot, and knew naught of controversies.
Then they would have me to tell them what I had been taught to believe
in England, to which I answered that I had never been taught any other
doctrine than that to which I had already testified, and in which I did
firmly and truly believe as a good Christian man, hoping for salvation
in the Christian faith.
"We must have a more satisfactory answer than that," said the Chief
Inquisitor, "otherwise we must try what a sterner method will do with
you."
"Sir," said I, "other answer I cannot give you, for I have already told
you the truth. As for my sins against God I heartily ask His
forgiveness, and also yours if I have offended your laws in any way; but
I beseech you to remember that I came into your country against my own
will, and have never done aught against its laws or against you
wittingly. Therefore, I beseech you to have Christian mercy upon my
defenseless condition."
But they had none, and that night I was put upon the rack, and cruelly
tortured by Frey Bartolomeo and his fellows, in the hope that I should
confess something against myself. However, God giving me strength, I
said naught, and was preserved through that awful torment, the memory of
which is strong in my mind even after all these years.