Part 11
With another unfortunate victim of the barbarous efforts of the Church to
suppress heresy set aside for further "questioning", one might think
the supply of heretics and those frowned upon by those functionaries in charge
would decrease in numbers. The truth was there was a seemingly
inexhaustible supply of accused.
As stated previously, all that was necessary to be detained and brought before
the Inquisitor was an accusation by just about anyone regarding the charge of
witchcraft, heresy or any of the so called "dark" practices in
which the ignorant peasants, and, just about everyone else, so fervently
believed.
A fertile reservoir of suspects.
Consider Ilse A very pretty young girl in her
mid twenties. Her father had been a hardworking serf who farmed a portion
of a local landowners property. He did very well
for his lord and master producing considerably better than the other peasant
workers. I say he "had been" because he had died of one
of the myriad of ailments common in those dark times. He had no
sons so it fell to Ilse, his eldest daughter, to continue his work along with
those who had worked with her father. She did well, and had even
surpassed the results her father had achieved.
This pleased the landowner but the other peasants were jealous of the success
enjoyed by Ilse and her family.
To top it off Ilse had lustrous auburn colored hair. Red hair or any
shade thereof was an uncommon rarity, especially in this part of the
country. It was commonly believed that one with red hair was was to be
viewed with skepticism and distrust. They were rumored to be in league
with Old Nick himself. Thus any good fortune they had was credited to the
influence of The Prince of Darkness.
So....what would be more natural than to credit the success of this creature to
Satan himself.
No sooner said than done, and Ilse quickly found herself in the nefarious
clutches of the Inquisition in the person of our old friend Konrad of Marburg,
Grand Inquisitor of Rome and the Holy See.
As previously enunciated, Ilse was of twenty something,
it was not easy to accurately know ones age sometimes during the dark times of
the middle ages. Quite tall and of very pleasant
proportions. Well endowed as were many young peasant woman who
worked the land, we would classify her as "busty'. Her complexion quite
fair like most natives of Northern
Europe, though well tanned
as a result of her hours in the sun.
Like most people of the time a devoted Christian and believer in ALL the church
espoused and decreed as factual and true. Like her father before her she
was honest and would die rather than speak an untruth. A fact she would
come to regret very soon.
Ilse had been taken into custody and confined to a cell in the monastery in
whose lower bowels the Inquisitors torture chambers where unspeakable horrors
were commited. Her own clothing had been taken away and a filthy shroud
given her to cover her nakedness. Her hands were shackled together, a
short chain connecting them. An iron collar with rings attached to the sides,
front and back was placed around her neck. Another iron band circled her
waist with rings located in the same locations. A chain linked to the
back of this band was fastened to the stone wall of the cell. A shallow
trough ran along one side through which water trickled. This was
her bath and toilet. The cell was dark and dank and smelled of past
unfortunate tenants.
No explanation was given her as to why she had been brought there or what would
happen next. Her questions were ignored.
Ilse languished in the cell for weeks. Food was sparse and frequently
rotten. Water to drink, on occasion. She
spent her days sitting on the cold stone floor, and prayed.
One day as she sat on the stone floor her back to the wall, the heavy door to
her cell banged open. A guard of the dungeons entered and unlocked her
chains from the wall. Roughly grabbing her by the arm he lifted her to
her feet and shoved her through the door saying, "His Grace wishes a word
with you Witch."
"What do you mean witch? I'm no witch! What are you talking
about?"
"You will learn soon enough wench."
The frightened Ilse was propelled along the passageway. Down flights of stone
steps and through a maze of passages they went, lower and lower into the bowels
of the abbey.
Finally he stopped before a huge oaken door and opened it. As he stepped
through it he grasped her arm and drug her into a huge
room. The floor, walls and roof were of rough stone.
At the far end on a raised dais sat Konrad, Grand Inquisitor. Seated on his plush throne like chair behind a long table, a
scarlet velvet cloth covering the surface and hanging to the floor on all
sides. Ilse had no idea who he was.
For some time while in her cell she had had a terrible foreboding that she was a prisoner of the dreaded Inquisition.
The Inquisitor glowered down at her.
"I am Konrad of Marburg. Grand Inquisitor of the Holy Church of Rome! You stand accused of witchcraft,
sorcery, and conjuring. What have you to say?"
Her worst fears were coming true. For some reason someone had accused her
of
witchcraft.
"These accusations are not true sire. I am not a witch nor am I a
sorcerer nor do I practice conjuring. I am innocent of these
accusations."
"We have information you have been using your powers to enhance the output of the land you work for the noble gentleman
entrusted with the estate. Confess your sins and it will go easier with
you."
"But sire I am no witch. I'm just a poor peasant working the land my
father did before me."
"The miserable plot which you work bears more wheat and other grains than
any others about you. The only explanation can be that you are in league
with that despicable fiend of the underworld. Confess your
involvement!"
"I swear Your Grace, I have no connection
to that devil of whom you speak"
"Lies! CONFESS! Abjure your part in his diabolic machinations."
"It is a lie! I have no allegiance to that fiend of hell!"
"Dungeon master! Proceed with your work. Maybe a
bit of persuasion will alter this miscreants foolish
obstinacy."
"With pleasure Your Grace."
He clutches Ilse's arms and starts to drag her across the stone floor.
"No, No. What are you going to do? Stop
this!"
"We're just going on a small tour of the premises so you may see how some
of our guests are occupied and how you too will soon be entertaining us.
He drug her by her shackled hands down a passage.
Ungodly screams were heard emanating from the chamber long before they reached
it. A young maiden was tied to a rough table, arms and legs spread.
The Countess was hovering over her stretched form, intent on her fiendish
work. A scream of horrific agony issued from the poor girls mouth.
Her body thrashed and shook.
"The Countess is flaying the skin from this damnable witch. She has
been stripping the skin from her living flesh for two days. The Countess
will keep her alive and screaming until she expires. That should be
at least another day. Come along."
Ilse was trembling and shaking in revulsion at what she has just seen.
In the next chamber a woman is secured to a wooden frame, her legs extended and
spread about a shoulder width apart, strapped tightly to the end of the frame.
He arms were stretched out to her sides and strapped to a crosspiece at elbows
and wrists. Her torso is arched over a wooden block under her buttocks,
her head lower than her midsection. A heavy leather apparatus is securely
fastened to her face. It covers her chin and most of her face save her
eyes, which are darting back and forth in terror. It is a funnel, the
small end of which is embedded deep in her wide stretched jaws, sealing her
mouth, the nosepiece has plugs with are inserted into her nostrils effectively
blocking them. Her only means to breath is through the wide flared
funnel in her mouth. An acolyte is busy pouring the contents of a large jug of
water into the funnel. In order to breathe she must ingest the water into
her stomach or suffocate. It has been some time since she has
gotten any air into her lungs and her body is twitching and thrashing against
the straps holding her. Narrow leather thongs are wound round her upper
arms and thighs crisscross fashion. Where the thongs cross short sections
of wood have been inserted and are being twisted by 4 other acolytes. As
the wood sticks turn they tighten the thongs cutting into her arms and legs,
the flesh bulging up between them. She gasps for air and shrieks in unfathomable agony as she is tortured.
"She will be forced fed water until her stomach bulges and she looks like
she is with child. Then her distended abdomen will be beaten with clubs
to make her expel the water she has taken in. When she has expelled it,
the process will be repeated."
"My God that's inhuman! How can you people DO such monstrous
things?"
"She is an accused witch and will not confess her sins! Until
she does all means at our disposal will be employed to make her see the folly
of denial. Come."
In the next chamber a female subject was wailing in unmitigated agony.
Her head was enclosed in an iron cage by which she was suspended. A band around her neck just below her chin, another under her nose.
and one across her forehead. These were joined
together by bands running from the bottom band up the sides to join over her
head. A heavy ring in the top was chained to a beam behind her forcing
her head to tip back, her mouth stretched wide by hooks on the cage . Her wrists were secured in cuffs linked to the
iron band about her waist.
A stout wooden stake, two inches in diameter and imbedded in the stone floor,
rose between her thighs. It disappeared into her private parts and the
lips of her vagina were stretched tightly around it's
circumference. She was being impaled! Her
legs were left unbound and were scrabbling to
gain purchase on the shaft piercing her body, to stop her inevitable,slow
skewering. The shaft was smeared with greasy animal fat. Her feet
slipped and slid over the instrument of torture as her own weight forced the
terrible implement into her. It had already penetrated through her
genitalia and was worming through her lower bowel. If she was
lucky, when it had penetrated sufficiently the pointed end might pierce her
heart and end the torture. Unfortunately that seldom happened.. The pointed end was not sharply pointed, it was slightly
rounded. This allowed it to "push aside" internal organs so it
could continue sliding between and around her vital organs.The usual result was
that eventually the diabolical invader finally protruded from the victims
mouth. By this time the victims feet would have
reached the floor. They stood, skewered through but still
alive. Sometimes they lived for days in savage agony.
Gurd, the torture master, took her back to stand before Konrad once
again.
"Have you shown her some of the instruments of persuasion?"
"I have Your Grace."
"Well then my disciple of Satan, do you confess?"
Ilse was sobbing and trembling after seeing such inhuman tortures as she looked
up to the merciless Inquisitor.
"I have nothing to confess sire. I am not a witch."
Konrad glowered at the terrified girl and looking to Gurd,
"You may proceed then."
Gurd smiled and roughly grasped Ilse's wrist.
"Nooooooo!
To Be Continued............
