tary force, after edicts and
bulls had failed, that the King and Pope together could quash two years'
public resistance. In Saragossa, where the murder had been contrived by a
party of chief inhabitants, a consciousness of guilt weakened their hands
and they endeavored to save themselves by flight. Thousands of people
deserted the city, although they had no participation in the deed and
were everywhere treated as rebels; and in that migration incidents
occurred which might throw a tinge of horrible romance on our history.
Let me briefly mention two.

An inhabitant of Saragossa found his way to Tudela, and there begged for
shelter and concealment in the house of Don Jaime, Infante of Navarre,
legitimate son of the Queen of Navarre and nephew of King Ferdinand
himself. The Infante could not refuse asylum and hospitality to an
innocent fugitive. He allowed the man to hide himself for a few days and
then pass on to France. For this act of humanity Don Jaime was arrested
by the inquisitors, thrown into prison as an impeder of the Holy Office,
brought thence to Saragossa, a place quite beyond the jurisdiction of
Navarre, and there made to do open penance in the cathedral, in presence
of a great congregation at high mass. And what penance! The Archbishop
of Saragossa presided; but this Archbishop was a boy of seventeen, an
illegitimate son of the King; and he it was that commanded two priests to
flog his father's lawful nephew, the Infante of Navarre, with rods. They
whipped Don Jaime around the church accordingly.

The other case was diabolical. Gaspar de Santa Cruz escaped to Toulouse,
where he died and was buried after his effigy had been burned in
Saragossa. In this city lived a son of his, who, in duty bound, had
helped him to make good his retreat. This son was delated as an impeder
of the Holy Office, arrested, brought out at an act of faith, made
to read a condemnation of his deceased father, and then sent to the
inquisitor at Toulouse, who took him to his father's grave, and compelled
him to dig up the corpse and burn it with his own hands. Whether the
inquisitors were most barbarous or the young man most vile, it may be
difficult to say. But it is a most infamous glory of the Inquisition
that, for satisfaction of its own requirements, the express laws of God
and man and the first instincts of humanity are equally set at naught.

The Arch-inquisitor of Spain, shortly after his accession to the office,
summoned the s