But there was a third chamber, smaller than the other
two, and this chamber was reserved for those who had been sentenced,
and who were to suffer at the stake. It was into this chamber that
Amine was led, and there she found seven other prisoners dressed in
the same manner as herself: two only were Europeans, the other five
were negro slaves. Each of these had their confessor with them, and
were earnestly listening to his exhortation. A monk approached Amine,
but she waved him away with her hand: he looked at her, spat on the
floor, and cursed her. The head jailor now made his appearance with
the dresses for those who were in this chamber; these were Samarias,
only different from the others, inasmuch as the flames were painted on
them _upwards_ instead of down. These dresses were of grey stuff, and
loose, like a waggoner's frock; at the lower part of them, both before
and behind, was painted the likeness of the wearer, that is, the face
only, resting upon a burning faggot, and surrounded with flames and
demons. Under the portrait was written the crime for which the party
suffered. Sugar-loaf caps, with flames painted on them, were also
brought and put on their heads, and the long wax candles were placed
into their hands. Amine and the others condemned being arrayed in these dresses,
remained in the chambers, for some hours before it was time for the
procession to commence, for they had been all summoned up by the
jailors at about two o'clock in the morning. The sun rose brilliantly, much to the joy of the members of the Holy
Office, who would not have had the day obscured on which they were to
vindicate the honour of the church, and prove how well they acted up
to the mild doctrines of the Saviour--those of charity, good-will,
forbearing one another, forgiving one another. God of Heaven! And not
only did those of the Holy Inquisition rejoice, but thousands and
thousands more who had flocked from all parts to witness the dreadful
ceremony, and to hold a jubilee--many indeed actuated by fanaticism,
superstition, but more attended from thoughtlessness and the love of
pageantry. The streets and squares through which the procession was
to pass were filled at an early hour. Silks, tapestries, and cloth of
gold and silver were hung over the balconies, and out of the windows,
in honour of the procession. Every balcony and window was thronged
with ladies and cavaliers in their gayest attire, all waiting
anxiously to see the wretches paraded before they suffered; but the
world is fond of excitement, and where is anything so exciting to a
superstitious people as an _Auto da Fé_? As the sun rose, the heavy bell of the Cathedral tolled, and all the
prisoners were led down to the Grand Hall, that the order of the
procession might be arranged. At the large entrance door, on a raised
throne, sat the Grand Inquisitor, encircled by many of the most
considerable nobility and gentry of Goa. By the Grand Inquisitor stood
his Secretary, and as the prisoners walked past the throne, and their
names were mentioned, the Secretary, after each, called out the names
of one of those gentlemen, who immediately stepped forward, and took
his station by the prisoner. These people are termed the godfathers;
their duty is to accompany and be answerable for the prisoner, who is
under their charge, until the ceremony is over. It is reckoned a high
honour conferred on those whom the Grand Inquisitor appoints to this
office. At last the procession commenced. First was raised on high the
standard of the Dominican Order of Monks, for the Dominican Order
were the founders of the Inquisition, and claimed this privilege, by
prescriptive right. After the banner the monks themselves followed,
in two lines. And what was the motto of their banner? "Justitia et
Misericordia!" Then followed the culprits, to the number of three
hundred, each with his godfather by his side, and his large wax candle
lighted in his hand. Those whose offences have been most venial walk
first; all are bareheaded, and barefooted. After this portion, who
wore only the dress of black and white serge, came those who carried
the Sanbenitos; then those who wore the Samarias, with the flames
reversed. Here there was a separation in the procession, caused by a
large cross, with the carved image of Our Saviour nailed to it, the
face of the image carried forward. This was intended to signify, that
those in advance of the Crucifix, and upon whom the Saviour looked
down, were not to suffer; and that those who were behind, and upon
whom his back was turned, were cast away, to perish for ever in this
world, and the next. Behind the Crucifix followed the seven condemned;
and, as the greatest criminal, Amine walked the last. But the
procession did not close here. Behind Amine were five effigies, raised
high on poles, clothed in the same dresses, painted with flames and
demons. Behind each effigy was borne a coffin, containing a skeleton;
the effigies were of those who had died in their dungeon, or expired
under the torture, and who had been tried and condemned after their
death, and sentenced to be burnt. These skeletons had been dug up,
and were to suffer the same sentence as, had they still been living
beings, they would have undergone. The effigies were to be tied to the
stakes, and the bones were to be consumed. Then followed the members
of the Inquisition; the familiars, monks, priests, and hundreds of
penitents, in black dresses, which concealed their faces, all with the
lighted tapers in their hands. It was two hours before the procession, which had paraded through
almost every important street in Goa, arrived at the Cathedral in
which the further ceremonies were to be gone through. The barefooted
culprits could now scarcely walk, the small sharp flints having so
wounded their feet, that their tracks up the steps of the Cathedral
were marked with blood. The grand altar of the Cathedral was hung with black cloth, and
lighted up with thousands of tapers. On one side of it was a throne
for the Grand Inquisitor, on the other, a raised platform for the
Viceroy of Goa, and his suite. The centre aisle had benches for the
prisoners, and their godfathers; the other portions of the procession
falling off to the right and left, to the side aisles, and mixing for
the time with the spectators. As the prisoners entered the Cathedral,
they were led into their seats, those least guilty sitting nearest to
the altar, and those who were condemned to suffer at the stake being
placed the farthest from it. The bleeding Amine tottered to her seat, and longed for the hour which
was to sever her from a Christian world. She thought not of herself,
nor of what she was to suffer; she thought but of Philip; of his being
safe from these merciless creatures--of the happiness of dying first,
and of meeting him again in bliss.