The Prime Minister Part 55

The King still looked as if he was about to deny her.

"Oh! hear me, your Majesty,--by the devoted love you so lately professed to bear me, by all your tender endearments, by your vows of constancy, by the sacrifice of my name and reputation to your pa.s.sion, pardon those innocent ones--at all events, comparatively innocent--and let the punishment fall upon my guilty head!"

Where is the man who can withstand a lovely woman's prayers, when, weeping, she pleads, and pleads for justice? The King could no longer resist her entreaties; he gently raised her, and, pressing his lips to her hands, he was about to pledge his kingly promise that none should suffer--the words faltered on his tongue--the door opened, he looked up, and beheld the commanding figure of the Prime Minister! The latter stopped, gazing with amazement. Donna Theresa saw not, heard not aught but her sovereign, as she waited eagerly for the words he was about to p.r.o.nounce.

"You promise, then--you promise they shall be pardoned?" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

The King's eye sank before the searching glance of his potent Minister.

"Pardon me, your Majesty, for my intrusion, and will you graciously deign to explain the meaning of this lady's presence?" exclaimed the latter, advancing rapidly, for he had heard Donna Theresa's last words, and in a moment clearly comprehended the cause of her visit. He felt that his own power hung upon a thread, and he foresaw that, if she gained her cause, he must inevitably be the sacrifice.

In an instant he had arranged his plan. "I need no explanation,--Donna Theresa de Tavora has ventured hither against your Majesty's commands, to impose, with a false tale of her relatives' innocence, on your gracious clemency, and, for the sake of saving the guilty, would sacrifice your life and crown to their implacable hatred. Be not deceived, Sire, by the treacherous tongue of an artful woman. I come now from the trial of the once so-called Duke of Aveiro, the Marquis of Tavora, and their a.s.sociates: the judges have found them guilty of the most atrocious of conspiracies, and have condemned them accordingly.

Your Majesty's sacred life had nearly fallen a sacrifice to some unknown traitors. For months have I incessantly toiled, day and night, to discover the miscreants, and at length I have been successful, and they are about to receive the punishment of their deeds. Let not, then, all my exertions prove vain; and, above all, Sire, do not jeopard your own precious life by mistaken leniency."

The Minister watched the King's countenance, and saw that he had won his cause. He advanced to Donna Theresa, and grasped her arm: "Come, madam, you must no longer intrude upon his Majesty!" he exclaimed.

She started at his touch, and turned an entreating look towards the King. The Monarch's eye was averted. "All, all is lost!" she cried, and, uttering a piercing shriek, sank senseless upon the ground.

"Pardon this seeming harshness, Sire," said Carvalho, deprecatingly, as he raised Donna Theresa in his arms. "It is necessary for your safety."

"You are always right, my friend," said the King. "Let every care and attention be paid her; and let some one be with her to console her for her disappointment;" and he turned away to hide his own emotion: he longed to hide his feelings from himself.

"'Tis another step gained towards supreme power," thought the Minister, as he bore his unconscious burden from the apartment, and committed her to the charge of his guards, with strict orders not to allow her to depart. He then returned to the King, with the fatal doc.u.ment in his hand,--the condemnation of the n.o.ble prisoners. His Majesty's signature was required; nor had he now much difficulty in obtaining it.

When nearly all of the most influential in the country were interested in the preservation of the accused, and all feeling that Donna Theresa was the most calculated to persuade the Monarch to pardon them, she had experienced but little difficulty, aided by high bribes, in penetrating to the apartments of the King; though, on Carvalho's endeavouring to discover the delinquents, every one solemnly averred that they had never seen her enter,--though, in her page's suit, she might have pa.s.sed them un.o.bserved.

Let her fate be a warning to others. Let those consider, whom pa.s.sion would lead from the strict path of duty, that not themselves alone, but many others also, whom they once loved, and by whom they were beloved, they may drag down to perdition.

When Donna Theresa returned to consciousness, she found herself surrounded by her own attendants, and when she was p.r.o.nounced in a fit state to be removed, she was conveyed to the Convent of Santos, where a large income was settled on her, and a retinue appointed to attend her.

Though nominally a prisoner, she had perfect liberty. She did not die:--such was too happy a lot for her. For many, many years she lived on, a prey to remorse, hated and scorned by her few surviving relatives, till age had wrinkled her brow, and no trace of her former enchanting loveliness remained. Guilty of one crime she was, but not that of which she was accused; yet none would believe her a.s.sertions, when she had failed to procure the pardon of her husband. Such was her punishment!

For eighteen years did her father, the Marquis d'Alorna, his wife, and children, languish in separate dungeons, and scarcely one of his kindred escaped the like fate.

She became deaf and blind, and at length she died. On her tomb was found inscribed, "The Murderess of her Family."

Volume 3, Chapter XVIII.

We would gladly avoid detailing the following narrative, but no one who is writing the life of the great Prime Minister of Portugal can pa.s.s it over in silence; and while his name is mentioned in history, so will be the dreadful tragedy in which he was the princ.i.p.al actor, with the execrations of all who have a sentiment of pity for human suffering in their bosoms; even had the sufferers been proved guilty, which we, as Britons, and lovers of our own just laws affirm they were not. Guilty in the sight of Heaven, some of the accused too probably were, but by no law founded on common equity or humanity were they proved so.

The morning of the 13th of January broke dark and gloomy on the heads of a vast concourse of people, already a.s.sembled in a large open s.p.a.ce on the borders of the Tagus, near the Castle of Belem.

In the background was the Quinta of Bichos, the entrance-door of which opened towards the river, and round it was now stationed a strong body of troops under arms. Here the n.o.ble prisoners since their condemnation had been confined, and thither also, during the dark hours of night, the Marchioness of Tavora had been removed from the Convent of Grillos. In front of the gateway, and close to the water, appeared a scaffold, which, since the setting of the sun, workmen had been incessantly employed in erecting, and on which the sound of their hammers was still heard. It was fourteen feet high by thirty long, and twenty broad, covered with black, without ornament of any sort; a wide flight of steps with bal.u.s.trades leading up to it, on the side towards the Quinta. On the scaffold were seen two posts painted black, a chair, and a bench, on which were placed heavy iron mallets, and an instrument with a long handle, and an immense iron weight shaped like a quoit at the end of it; there were, besides, several large St. Andrew's crosses of wood, and the same number of wheels, and many other instruments of torture. Two regiments of infantry and two of cavalry were drawn up from the gate of the Quinta to the steps of the scaffold, extending their lines also on each side of the square; the embouchure of every street leading to the spot was also occupied by troops, companies of cavalry moving up and down them continually, and allowing no one to pa.s.s who wore a cloak, or could in any way have concealed arms about his person, without examining him. Notwithstanding, however, every impediment, thousands of persons pressed eagerly forward to the scene of execution, of every rank, age, and s.e.x, mostly excited by that vulgar curiosity which has, among all nations, and in all times, drawn people together, however revolting the spectacle might be, one would suppose, to human nature.

Here were collected, mothers with children in their arms, whom they held up to behold the black scaffold, and the glittering arms, and gaudy uniforms of the soldiers, the little wretches cooing with delight, unconscious of the meaning of the scene: here were old men leaning on their staves, and discussing the late events with stoical indifference; st.u.r.dy ruffians, who longed eagerly for the commencement of the horrid drama; boys, youths with the down still on their lips,--ay, and young maidens too, listening to their tones of courtship, and smiling as they listened; many sat in groups discussing their morning meal, regardless of which they had hurried from their homes;--yes, there was love-making, laughter, and feasting; but dark Death, with his most terrific horrors, was the great actor they came to behold--all else, like a dull interlude, was insipid and tame.

The water also was covered with boats crowded with people, many too, of the higher ranks, anxious to behold the scene, yet unwilling to be observed by the common people, as they sat shrouded in their cloaks, waiting in silence for the commencement.

There was one boat which attracted great attention; it was a barge, moored to the quay, and loaded with f.a.ggots, wood, torches, and barrels of pitch.

"What, is all that firewood for?" asked a nursing mother of her husband; "there is enough there to supply us to the end of our lives."

"What, in that boat? Oh! that is doubtless the wood to burn the criminals."

"Jesu Maria!" exclaimed the woman, "they are not going to burn them alive?"

"Why not?" answered the man, "the holy office does so, and what they do must be right."

"Ay, yes, I forgot; of course, they are right," muttered the woman.

"Burn them, to be sure they will," chimed in a neighbour; "and will serve the regicides right. Do you know what they did? They tried to kill the King, the Queen, the Minister, and all the royal family, the wretches!"

"What! did they? Then they deserve to be burnt, doubtless," cried the woman.

"Ay, that did they, the haughty fidalgos!" exclaimed the neighbour; "we shall, now we have got rid of them, have some chance of becoming fidalgos ourselves."

"Oh! it will be a glorious sight!" cried another of the crowd, "full fifty fidalgos all burning and shrieking together; far better than any Auto-da-fe--the holy office never burns more than eight or ten at a time."

"Full fifty! gracious Virgin!" cried a girl. "Who are they?"

"Ay, and more than fifty. Let me see; there are the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Aveiro, and all their household and children, the Marquis and Marchioness of Tavora, the younger Marquis, his brother and their sisters, the Marquis of Alorna, and his family; the Conde de Atouquia, and Captain Romeiro. Let me see, there are many more--oh! there are Goncalo Christovao, who excited the rebellion at Oporto, and the young Count of Almeida, the Count of--"

"Who did you say?" exclaimed a young man, a stranger to the party, who was standing near. "Who was the last person you mentioned to be executed?"

"The Count of Almeida," answered the oracle of the party, coolly. "He came to Lisbon the very morning of the outrage, and has, it is said, the very look of an a.s.sa.s.sin."

"It is a vile falsehood, and anybody who says he is guilty, is a villain," exclaimed the young man, vehemently. "My master would never hurt a lamb, much more fire at a king."

"Your master? then you ought to be in his company, my fine fellow,"

answered the man, who was in a most loyal mood. "The masters and servants are all to be burnt together."

"Burnt! my dear master burnt alive!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Pedro, almost unconsciously; for it was he, having wandered about the city, daily, unable to gain any tidings of the Count, till he, at last, heard his name mentioned among the captives, and had now, with sorrow and fear, come to the place of execution, expecting to see his beloved master among the sufferers. Not knowing the precautions taken to prevent a chance of escape, he watched, with feverish anxiety, the appearance of the prisoners, in the hopes of finding some means of rescuing him. Not liking the proposal of the people, near whom he was standing, and being unable to gain any further information from them, he moved away to another group, one of whom appeared to know a great deal about the matter.

"Can you tell me, Senhor, the names of the conspirators who are to suffer?" asked Pedro, with tears in his eyes, and a faltering voice.

"Of course, my friend, I shall be happy to enlighten you to the utmost of my power," answered the person he addressed, enumerating the same names as the former one, with a few additions.

Poor Pedro wrung his hands with agony.

"Alas, alas! are they to be burnt alive?" he asked.

"Oh, no, not all of them," said his informant. "Some of them are, for which purpose you see those black posts erected, to fasten them to. The ladies are to lose their heads, the leaders are to be beaten to death, and the others are to be strangled. A few only are to be burnt alive, to please the people; and then the scaffold, and all the bodies, will be consumed together and thrown into the river."

Pedro could listen to no more of the dreadful details, but, hurrying away to a distance, he sat himself down on a stone, and hiding his face in his hands, he gave way to the anguish of his feelings, in tears.

Suddenly, however, recovering his presence of mind, he considered how he might yet afford some aid to the hapless young Count.

While the scene we have described was proceeding, one of violence and destruction was enacting in another part of the city. A vast mob were collected in and around the palaces of the Marquis of Tavora and the Duke of Aveiro; some employed in dragging forth the rich and valuable furniture, breaking it in pieces, and piling it in heaps to burn; some endeavouring to conceal the smaller articles about their persons; and others fighting and wrangling about the booty. A few minutes sufficed to accomplish the act of destruction, when workmen instantly commenced demolishing the entire edifices, and ere their once proud owners had ceased to breathe, already were they in ruins. When the palaces were completely razed to the ground, salt was sprinkled over their sites; and on that of the Duke of Aveiro a column was erected, on which was inscribed his crime and punishment.

To return to the former scene. At length, at seven o'clock, the gates of the Quinta were thrown open. "They come! they come!" murmured the crowd, as a body of hors.e.m.e.n were seen to issue forth, some in uniforms, being the chief military commanders of the kingdom, others in dark cloaks, who were the princ.i.p.al officers of the crown, the ministers of justice, the criminal judges, and others. The Prime Minister was not among them. He, it was said, contemplated at a distance the work he had ordered.