“A gentleman, who was then (1809) residing at Paris, having business in Lisbon some years before the French revolution, and being about to go thither, took with him, from a nobleman at Versailles, a letter to the chief-inquisitor at Madrid, through which he passed. On his arrival in that city, being fatigued, and at the same time unwilling to impede his journey, he fulfilled the ceremony of delivering the letter to the inquisitor by the hands of his servant, excusing himself, on those grounds, from doing himself the honour of a personal attendance. The grand-inquisitor, however, came himself to his hotel, and, with great politeness, prevailed on him to spend the evening at his residence. The gentleman repaired to his apartment, and was lost in astonishment at the splendour of the saloons, furniture, and attendants. After some noblemen who were present had withdrawn, the inquisitor offered his guest a sight of his bed-chamber; this surpassed anything that he had ever seen for sumptuous elegance. The walls were hung with most exquisite paintings, from the heathen mythology; the floor of the finest marble, and so constructed as to admit the growth of orange trees, and a crystal stream, which, imparting a delicious coolness, rolled off through basons of porphyry, in subterranean channels, whilst the bed was adorned with such tasteful drapery as to give to the whole the air of royalty. As soon as the visitor had inspected with admiration the various embellishments of this splendid retreat, which he was the more surprised to find where he had rather expected to have seen the rigid tokens of inquisitorial devotion, he prepared to withdraw. But the inquisitor prevented him, expressing surprise that he should so soon appear fatigued; then making a signal, a Dominican appeared (his confidential minister), who conducted the traveller into a splendid saloon, lighted by a profusion of wax candles; here a magnificent supper was prepared, to which sat down the grand-inquisitor, his visitor, six ladies of great beauty and accomplishments, and some monks, who were peculiar favourites. The evening was spent with the greatest gaiety, whilst music, poetry, singing, and agreeable conversation protracted the stay of the company until sunrise. At length the traveller took his leave, greatly pleased with the courtesy of his highness, and admiring the method of relaxation he had chosen, after the studies and fatigue devolving on him from the Holy Office!”
Rev. D. A. Gavin, a Spanish priest, but, since 1715, a clergyman in the Church of England, in his “Master-Key to Popery,” vol. i., p. 192-205, gives the following account by a lady, daughter of Counsellor Balabriga, of Saragossa. She had been seized by the familiars of the Holy Office, and confined there, with others, as a victim of the abominable licentiousness of the inquisitors; but delivered from her degradation by the French army, when part of the troops were quartered at Saragossa, after the great battle of Almanza, in 1706. M. de Legal, the lieutenant-general, having been excommunicated by the inquisitors, on account of his making an assessment upon them for the support of his troops, sent four regiments of soldiers to eject the inquisitors, and release the prisoners. Among these, amounting to about four hundred, he found sixty young women, who had formed the seraglios of the three inquisitors. On learning this event, the Archbishop of Saragossa, fearing the disgrace that would arise from the discovery of such atrocious wickedness, desired the general to send the young women to his palace, that he might take care of them. But M. de Legal replied, that he would gladly oblige his grace, but that it was not in his power, for the ladies were taken care of by the French officers. One of these ladies, whose family was known to Gavin, being married by a French officer, her deliverer, gave her history to her friend, some time after, when he met her in his travels in France.
“I went one day,” said this lady, “with my mother, to visit the Countess of Attaress, and I met there Don Francisco Torrejon, her confessor, and second inquisitor of the Holy Office. After we had drunk chocolate he asked me my age, and my confessor’s name, and so many intricate questions about religion that I could not answer him. His serious countenance did frighten me; and, as he perceived my fear, he desired the countess to tell me that he was not so severe as I took him to be; after which he caressed me in the most obliging manner in the world, gave me his hand, which I kissed with great respect and modesty; and when he went away, he told me, ‘My dear child, I shall remember you till the next time.’ I did not mind the sense of the words, for I was inexperienced in matters of gallantry, being only fifteen years old at that time. Indeed, he did remember me; for the very night following, when we were in bed, hearing a hard knocking at the door, the maid that lay in the same room where my bed was, went to the window, and asking, ‘Who is there?’ I heard say, ‘The Holy Inquisition!’
“I could not forbear crying out, ‘Father! father! I am ruined for ever!’ My dear father got up, and inquiring what the matter was, I answered him, with tears, ‘The Inquisition!’ and he, for fear that the maid should not open the door so quick as such a case required, went himself, as another Abraham, to open the door, and to offer his dear daughter to the fire of the inquisitors; and as I did not cease to cry out, as if I was a mad girl, my dear father, all in tears, did put in my mouth a bridle, to show his obedience to the Holy Office, and his zeal for the Catholic faith; for he thought I had committed some crime against religion. So the officers, giving me but time to put on my petticoat and a mantle, took me down into a coach, and, without giving me the satisfaction of embracing my dear father and mother, they carried me into the Inquisition. I did expect to die that very night; but when they carried me into a noble room, well furnished, and an excellent bed in it, I was quite surprised. The officers left me there, and immediately a maid came with a silver salver of sweetmeats and cinnamon-water, desiring me to take some refreshment before I went to bed. I told her I could not, but that I should be obliged to her if she would tell me whether I was to die that night or not? ‘Die!’ said she, ‘you did not come here to die, but to live like a princess; and you shall want nothing in the world but the liberty of going out. And now, pray mind nothing, but go to bed and sleep easy, for to-morrow you shall see wonders in this house; and, as I am chosen to be your waiting-maid, I hope you will be very kind to me. I have not leave to tell you anything else till to-morrow, only that nobody shall come to disturb you, for my bed is in the closet near your bed.’
“The great amazement that I was in took away all my senses, or the free exercise of them; for I had not liberty to think of my parents, nor of my grief, nor of the danger that was so near me. So, in this suspension of thought, the waiting-maid came, and locked the chamber-door after her, and told me, ‘Madam, let us go to bed, and only tell me at what time in the morning will you have the chocolate ready?’ ‘Mary! for heaven’s sake,’ said I, as she had told me her name, ‘tell me whether I am to die or not.’ ‘I told you, madam, that you come,’ said she, ‘to live as one of the happiest creatures in the world.’ And as I observed her reservedness, I did not ask her any more questions; so recommending myself to God Almighty, and to our Lady of the Pillar, and preparing myself to die, I went to bed, but could not sleep. I was up with the day, but Mary slept till six of the clock. She left me half an hour alone, and came back with a silver plate, with two cups of chocolate and some biscuits. I drank one cup and desired her to drink the other. ‘Well, Mary,’ said I, ‘can you give me any account of the reason of my being here?’ ‘Not yet, madam,’ said she, ‘but only have patience for a little while.’ With this answer she left me, and an hour after came again with two baskets, with a fine Holland shift, a Holland under-petticoat, with fine lace round about it; two silk petticoats, and a little Spanish waistcoat with a gold fringe all over it; with combs and ribbons, and everything suitable to a lady of higher quality than I. But my greatest surprise was to see a gold snuff-box, with the picture of Don Francisco Torrejon on it. Then I soon understood the meaning of my confinement. So I considered with myself that to refuse the present would be the occasion of my immediate death, and to accept of it was to give him, even on the first day, too great encouragement against my honour. But I found, as I thought then, a medium in the case; so I said, ‘Mary, pray give my service to Don Francisco Torrejon, and tell him that, as I could not bring my clothes with me last night, honesty permits me to accept of these clothes, which are necessary to keep me decent; but, since I take no snuff, I beg his lordship to excuse me if I do not accept this box.’ Mary went to him with this answer, and came again with a picture nicely set in gold, with four diamonds at the four corners of it, and told me that his lordship was mistaken, and that he desired me to accept that picture, which would be a great favour to him; and while I was thinking with myself what to do, Mary said to me, ‘Pray, madam, take my poor advice; accept the picture, and everything that he sends to you; for consider, that if you do not consent and comply with everything he has a mind for, you will soon be put to death, and nobody will defend you; but if you are obliging and kind to him, he is a very complaisant and agreeable gentleman, and will be a charming lover; and you will be here like a queen, and he will give you another apartment with a fine garden, and many young ladies shall come to visit you. So I advise you to send a civil answer to him, and desire a visit from him, or else you will soon begin to repent yourself.’ ‘O dear me!’ said I, ‘must I abandon my honour without any remedy? If I oppose his desire, he will obtain it by force;’ and, full of confusion, I bid Mary to give him what answer she thought fit. She was very glad of my humble submission, and went to give Don Francisco my answer. She came back, in a few minutes after, all overjoyed to tell me that his lordship would honour me with his company at supper, and that he could not come sooner on account of business that called him abroad; but, in the meantime, he desired me to divert myself, and to give Mary my measure for a suit of new clothes, and order her to bring me everything that I could wish for. Mary added to this, ‘Madam, I may now call you my mistress; and must tell you, that I have been in the Holy Office these fourteen years, and I know the customs of it very well; but because silence is imposed upon me under pain of death, I cannot tell you anything but what concerns your person. So, in the first place, do not oppose the holy father’s will and pleasure; secondly, if you see some young ladies here, never ask them the occasion of their being here, nor anything of their business; neither will they ask you anything of this nature; and take care not to tell them anything of your being here. You may come and divert yourself with them, at such hours as are appointed; you shall have music and all sorts of recreations. Three days hence you shall dine with them; they are all ladies of quality, young and merry, and this is the best of lives. You will not long for going abroad, you will be so well diverted at home; and when your time is expired, then the holy fathers will marry you to some nobleman. Never mention the name of Don Francisco, nor your name, to any one. If you see here some young ladies of your acquaintance in the city, they will never take notice of your formerly knowing each other, though they will talk with you of indifferent matters; so take care not to speak anything of your family.’
“All these things together stupified me, and the whole seemed to me a piece of enchantment; so that I could not imagine what to think of it. With this lesson she left me, telling me she was going to order my dinner; and every time she went out she locked the door after her. There were but two high windows in my chamber, and I could see nothing through them; but, examining the room all over, I found a closet with all sorts of historical and profane books. So I spent my time till the dinner came in, reading some diverting amorous stories, which was a great satisfaction to me. Mary came with the things for the table, but I was inclined to sleep; so she asked me when she should wake me, and I proposed two hours. My sleep was a great refreshment to me; and at the time fixed she waked me to dinner, which consisted of every thing that could satisfy the nicest appetite. After dinner she left me alone, directing me to ring the bell to call her, if I needed anything; so I went again to my closet, and spent three hours in reading. I really think I was under some enchantment; for I was in a perfect suspension of thought, so as to remember neither father nor mother; and what was most in my mind I do not know. Mary, at length, came and told me that Don Francisco was come home, and she thought he would come to see me very soon; and begged of me to prepare myself to receive him with all manner of kindness. At seven in the evening Don Francisco came in his night-gown and night-cap, not with the gravity of an inquisitor, but with the gaiety of an officer. He saluted me with great respect and civility, and told me he had designed to keep me company at supper, but could not that night, having some business of consequence to finish in his closet; and that his coming to see me was only out of the respect he had for my family, and to tell me, at the same time, that some of my lovers had procured my ruin for me, accusing me in matters of religion; that the informations were taken, and the sentence pronounced against me was, to be burnt alive in the dry-pan with a gradual fire; but that he, out of pity and love to my family, had stopped the execution of it. Each of these words was a mortal stroke on my heart, and knowing not what I was doing, I threw myself at his feet, and said, ‘Seignior, have you stopped the execution for ever?’ ‘That belongs only to you to stop it or not,’ said he; and with this he wished me a good night. As soon as he went away, I fell a crying; but Mary came and asked me what could oblige me to cry so bitterly. ‘Ah! good Mary,’ said I, ‘pray tell me what is the meaning of the dry-pan, and gradual fire? for I am in expectation of nothing but death, and that by it.’ ‘O! madam, never fear, you will see the dry-pan and gradual fire another day; but they are made for those that oppose the holy fathers’ will, but not for you that are so ready to obey them. But pray, was Don Francisco very civil and obliging?’ ‘I do not know,’ said I, ‘for his discourse has put me out of my wits; this I know, that he saluted me with respect and civility, but he left me very abruptly.’ ‘Well,’ said Mary, ‘you do not know his temper; he is the most obliging man in the world, if people are civil with him; and if not, he is as unmerciful as Nero. And so, for your preservation, take care to oblige him in all respects. Now pray go to supper, and be easy.’
“I was so much troubled in mind with the thoughts of the dry-pan and gradual fire, that I could neither eat nor sleep that night. Early in the morning, Mary got up, and told me that nobody was yet up in the house, and that she would show me the dry-pan and gradual fire, on condition that I should keep it a secret for her sake, and my own too, which I having promised her, she took me along with her, and showed me a dark room with a thick iron door, and within it an oven and a large brass pan upon it, with a cover of the same, and a lock on it—the oven was burning at that time, and I asked Mary for what use that pan was there? And she, without giving me any answer, took me by the hand out of that place, and carried me into a large room, where she showed me a thick wheel, covered on both sides with thick boards, and opening a little window in the centre of it, desired me to look with a candle on the inside of it, where I saw all the circumference of the wheel set with sharp razors. After that, she showed me a pit full of serpents and toads. Then she said to me, ‘Now, my good mistress, I will tell you the use of these three things. The dry-pan and gradual fire are for heretics, and those that oppose the holy fathers’ will and pleasure; for they are put all naked and alive into the pan, and the cover of it being locked up, the executioner begins to put in the oven a small fire, and by degrees he augments it, till the body is reduced to ashes! The second is designed for those who speak against the pope and the holy fathers; for they are put within the wheel, and the little door being locked, the executioner turns the wheel till the person is dead. And the third is for those who condemn the images, and refuse to give the due respect and veneration to ecclesiastical persons; for they are thrown into the pit, and they at once become the food of serpents and toads!’
“Then Mary said to me that another day she would show me the torments for public sinners and transgressors of the five commandments of our holy mother the church; so I, in deep amazement, desired her to show me no more places; for the very thoughts of those three which I had seen were enough to terrify me to the heart. So we went to my room, and she charged me again to be very obedient to all the commands Don Francisco should give me, or to be assured, if I did not, that I was to undergo the torment of the dry-pan. Indeed, I conceived such a horror of the gradual fire, that I was not mistress of my senses, nay, nor of my thoughts. So I told Mary that I would follow her advice, and grant Don Francisco everything he would desire of me. ‘If you are in that disposition,’ said she, ‘leave off all your fears and apprehensions, and expect nothing but pleasure and satisfaction, and all manner of recreation; and you shall begin to experience some of these things this very day. Now let me dress you, for you must go and wish a good-morrow to Don Francisco, and breakfast with him.’ I really thought this was a great honour to me, and some comfort to my troubled mind; so I made all the haste I could, and Mary conveyed me through a gallery into Don Francisco’s apartment. He was still in bed, however, and desiring me to sit down by him, told Mary to bring the chocolate two hours after; and with this she left me alone with Don Francisco, who immediately ardently declaring his inclinations, I had not the liberty to make any excuse, and so, by extinguishing the fire of his passion, I was freed from the gradual fire and dry-pan, which was all that then troubled my mind. When Mary came with the chocolate, kneeling by the bed, she paid me homage as if I had been a queen, and served me first with a cup of chocolate, still on her knees, and bade me to give another cup to Don Francisco myself, which he received mighty graciously. Having drunk up the chocolate, she went out, and we discoursed for a while of various things, but I never spoke a word except when he desired me to answer him. So, at ten of the clock, Mary came again, and dressing me, she desired me to go along with her; and leaving Don Francisco in bed, she carried me into another chamber, very delightful, and better furnished than the first, for the windows of it were lower, and I had the pleasure of seeing the river and gardens on the other side out of it. Then Mary told me, ‘Madam, the young ladies of this house will come before dinner to welcome you, and make themselves happy in the honour of your company, and will take you to dine with them. Pray remember the advice I have given you already, and do not make yourself unhappy by asking useless questions.’ She had not finished these words, when I saw entering my apartments—which consisted of a large anti-chamber, and a bed-chamber with two large closets—a troop of young, beautiful ladies, finely dressed, who all, one after another, came to embrace me, and to wish me joy. My senses were in a perfect suspension, and I could not speak a word, nor answer to their kind compliments. But one of them, seeing me so silent, said to me, ‘Madam, the solitude of this place will affect you in the beginning; but when you are sometime in our company, and feel the pleasures of our amusements and recreations, you will quit your pensive thoughts. Now we beg of you the honour to come and dine with us to-day, and henceforth three days in a week.’ I thanked them, and we went to dinner. That day we had all sorts of exquisite meats, and were served with delicate fruits and sweetmeats. The room was very long, with two tables on each side, and another at the front of it, and I reckoned in it, on that day, fifty-two young ladies, the oldest of them not exceeding twenty-four years of age. Six maids did serve the whole number of us; but my Mary waited on me alone that day. After dinner, we went up stairs into a long gallery, all round about with lattice windows, where some of us playing on instruments of music, others playing at cards, and some walking about, we spent three hours together. At last, Mary came up ringing a small bell, which was the signal to retire into our rooms, as they told me: but Mary said to the whole company,—‘Ladies, this is a day of recreation; so you may go into what room you please till eight of the clock, and then you are to go into your own chambers.’ So they all desired leave to go with me to my apartment to spend the time there; and I was very glad that they preferred my chamber to another. All going down together, we met in my anti-chamber, where we found a large table with all sorts of sweetmeats upon it, iced cinnamon-water, almond-milk, and the like. Every one did eat and drink, but nobody spoke a word touching the sumptuousness of the table, nor mentioned anything concerning the inquisition of the holy fathers. So we spent our time in merry, indifferent conversation till eight of the clock. Then every one retired to her own room, and Mary told me that Don Francisco did wait for me; so we went to his apartment, and supper being ready, we both alone sat to table, attended by my maid only.
“After supper Mary went away, and we to bed; and next morning she did serve us with chocolate, which we drank in bed, and then slept till ten of the clock. Then we got up, and my waiting-maid carried me into my chamber, where I found ready two suits of clothes of a rich brocade, and every thing else suitable to a lady of the first rank. I put on one, and when I was quite dressed, the young ladies came to wish me a good-morrow, all dressed in different clothes, and better than the day before; and we spent the second and third days in the same recreation, Don Francisco continuing also with me in the same manner. But the fourth morning, after drinking chocolate in bed, as the custom was for Don Francisco and me, Mary told me that a lady was waiting for me, in her own room, and desired me to get up, with an air of command; and Don Francisco saying nothing against it, I got up and left him in bed. I thought really that this was to give me some new comfort and diversion; but I was very much mistaken; for Mary conveyed me into a young lady’s room, not eight feet long, which was a perfect prison, and there, before the lady, told me, ‘Madam, this is your room, and this young lady your bed-fellow and comrade;’ and left me there with this unkind command.
“I was in a most desperate condition; but my new sister, Leonora,—this was her name,—prevailed so much upon me, that I overcame my vexation before Mary came again to bring our dinner. Then she began to say, ‘My dear sister, you think it a hard case that has happened to you; I assure you, all the ladies here in this house have already gone through the same, and in time you shall know all their stories, as they hope to know yours. I suppose that Mary has been the chief instrument of your fright, as she has been of ours; and I warrant she has shown to you some horrible places, though not all, and that, at the very thought of them, you were so much troubled in your mind, that you have chosen the same way that we did, to get some ease in our hearts. By what has happened to us, we know that Don Francisco has been your Nero; for the three colours of our clothes are the distinguishing tokens of the three holy fathers: the red silk belongs to Don Francisco, the blue to Guerrero, and the green to Aliaga. For they give, for the first three days, these colours to those ladies that they bring for their use. We are strictly commanded to make all demonstrations of joy, and to be very merry three days, when a young lady comes here, as we did with you, and you must do with others. But, after it, we live like prisoners, without seeing any living soul but the six maids and Mary, who is the housekeeper. We dine all of us in the hall three days a week, and three days in our rooms. When any of the holy fathers has a mind for one of his slaves, Mary comes for her at nine of the clock, and conveys her to his apartment. If one of us happens to be with child, she is removed into a better chamber, and she sees nobody but the maid, till she is delivered. The child is taken away, and we do not know where it is carried. We are at present fifty-two young ladies, and we lose every year six or eight; but we do not know where they are sent. At the same time we get new ones; and I have sometimes seen here seventy-three ladies. All our continual torment is to think, and with great reason, that when the holy fathers are tired of one, they put her to death; for they never will run the hazard of being discovered in these misdemeanours, by sending out of the house any of our companions.’