ARIA DE BOHORQUES was a Spanish maiden, only one year younger than the mother of whom a former chapter tells. This young lady lived some hundreds of years later than the noble Vivia Perpetua. Both, however, were alike in the fact, that their earthly position was good, and also that they preferred death rather than to deny their Lord. The home of each was in the sunny south, but the blue waters of the Mediterranean rolled between. The lady Vivia Perpetua lived and suffered in Carthage, while Seville was the scene of the martyrdom of Maria de Bohorques.
All that wealth and rank could procure lay before this Spanish daughter, for her youth was passed with every luxury surrounding her. None of these things held her heart, however, for she possessed a better and more enduring Treasure, which far outweighed them all. Maria de Bohorques knew Jesus as her Savior, and was happy in the sense of His everlasting love. In the sixteenth century in which she lived, there was more gospel light in that priest-ridden country than at the present time. There were many homes in Spain where the word of God was read, believed, and valued in those days.
The gentleman who acted as tutor to the young Maria, was one of the most learned men of that day. His name was Dr. Gil. He was a Christian, and the Bible was to him no sealed book. His youthful pupil had with him the great advantage of studying the scriptures in the original language. God gave His own blessing in the gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ the Lord. He, and He only, can bring home with power to the heart, the written and the living Word.
Like many more, this young lady learned alone with God that His salvation is full and free, and that it is to " whosoever will," that the water of life is freely offered. You, my reader, do not live in those trying days when it was considered a crime to be seen reading the Bible. Yet, it may be, that you know not Christ, and are as dark in mind as any popish child. Oh, it will indeed be a solemn thing for you, if you "neglect so great salvation"—you who have the Bible in your native tongue, and whose privilege it is to hear the joyful sound of God's glad tidings. Come, oh come, “while it is called to-day," and trust the loving Savior in glory, who once died for sin, but is now alive for evermore.
In the days when Maria de Bohorques was drawn to Jesus, every Christian was closely watched. As soon as they were known to be such, many eyes were upon them; yes, and many a heart thirsted for their blood. Spies were never lacking to make known the victim, and the awful horrors of the Inquisition speedily became a reality to the persons arrested. The Inquisitors of Seville were not less severe in their dealings than those of other Spanish towns, and the mode of suddenly claiming a victim was as Satanic as elsewhere.
The dear, gentle Maria knew the outside of the gloomy prison, and had heard not a little, doubtless, of the proceedings of that well-known Court. And full well she knew the possibility of her feet having to pass within those gates, to suffer for Christ when her faith should become known. Therefore, alone on her knees, she ofttimes cried to God for strength to meet the arrival of that dread hour. When the moment did come, her prayer was answered, and meekly she met the prospect before her. Suddenly, the high-born maiden was snatched from the comforts of her luxurious home, and led within those dismal Inquisition walls. There she was taken to a secret room, to be questioned as to faith in Christ or allegiance to Rome.
Human friend or helper she had none, when, in the defenselessness of her youth and sex, Maria de Bohorques stood before those heartless judges. The room was quite in keeping with the dark deeds enacted there, for all was shade and gloom. Enveloped in shadow, and scarcely recognizable, sat those men who professed to try the suspected one. But it was a poor trial where justice was unknown, for the sentence was sure and certain, whatever the accused might say. Like cruel hawks, those keen-sighted men were only eager and ready to pounce upon their prey. All kinds of inducements were held out, to make a timid one deny the faith, but promises made with this object were usually broken, and death was certain to be the result.
At first, persuasion was tried in Maria's case, and smooth words were spoken. The judges declared that their desire was to restore her soul, which, they said, had wandered from God and the church. These statements did not succeed however in entrapping the courageous girl, but only drew from her lips an open confession of her faith. Her would-be judges then became very angry, and threatened to make her yield. But neither had this method any effect, for the cry of her heart was going up to God, and He strengthened her to be faithful. The instruments of torture were shown, and Maria was made to understand that her body should soon feel their power. Yet even the sight of those awful horrors failed to make her courage give way. She refused to call herself a papist, or acknowledge, in any way, the Church of Rome.
The next step was an effort to get Maria to mention any others who were of the same faith. To this they at first received no reply, for their victim would not give the slightest information. But, alas, for human nature! the reply was at last obtained. When put upon the rack she owned, in her agony, that her sister had conversed with her about her faith. This was told in a moment of bodily weakness, and most bitterly repented of, for it brought to torture and to death her own beloved sister, and this was no small grief. Yet who could wonder at the dear suffering girl if, to stop her agony, her firmness gave way for a moment, and the fatal intelligence was given?
The joints were starting from their sockets, and her body felt as if being torn limb from limb. And men, inhuman, hard-hearted men—whose bodies could feel like her own—turned the awful instrument, and gloated over her sufferings like wild beasts! How comforting to know, that that once suffering child of God is now forever with the Lord; having entered into rest! The body waits the resurrection-morn, and the spirit has returned to God who gave it. Departing to be with Christ, which is far better than earth's brightest scenes, the noble, true-hearted Maria de Bohorques left behind forever the sorrows of the way.
Maria was taken from the rack to a cold damp cell, where, at least, rest and quiet were to be had. Even the discomforts of that dreary place were welcome, after the horrors of the rack, and the ceaseless voices of her tormentors. There in calmness she awaited the expected end, while she encouraged herself in the Lord her God.
Once more an empty form of trial was gone through, and then sentence was passed upon the already crippled victim. Maria de Bohorques was condemned to be burnt at the stake, with other believers who, like herself, preferred to die rather than deny the Lord. One would have thought that the helpless condition of the dear young sufferer would have drawn pity from the hearts of the men who judged her. Alas, they were too hardened by such sights, and too greedy of their prey, to be melted by any such feeling. Unable to walk, from the effects of the rack, Maria had the additional pain of being borne by those who only hated her and sought her destruction. No love was there to brighten her earthly path as it neared the end, yet the love of God shone in her heart, and gave her a joy beyond that of earth.
The quiet of the cell into which she was carried was soon broken in upon by visits from various priests. Her rank and position made them eager to win her back to the Romish Church, if at all possible. Every plan they could think of was tried, to persuade the courageous girl to recant, but all were alike useless. She must have been wearied with their foolish arguments, yet patience was given her to endure. Wisdom, too, was not wanting to return the fitted answers, while a firmness, which God alone could have given, kept Maria de Bohorques steadfast and true.
Gentle firmness marked the ways and words of that Spanish lady, and true nobility of character shone out in those closing days of her youthful life. But God was the Giver of all, for the natural heart could never have produced such gentleness, wisdom, or patience. The same beautiful spirit towards all, was shown to the end of that brief life. The Great Square of Seville was chosen as the public place whence this young believer was to depart to be with Christ. Even her last evening on earth was disturbed by the crafty priests again visiting her in her place of imprisonment, hoping to see her yield at the last through fear of death. But death had no sting for that courageous heart. The popish hopes of restoring to the Church of Rome that gifted daughter of a noble Spanish family, were therefore dashed to the ground. And well that it was so; since life could only be obtained by denying Him who had shed His blood for her.
Once again that youthful witness was carried from her miserable cell, but now borne forth to die for the Lord she loved. She was not only peaceful, but a surprising cheerfulness was distinctly manifest. Being happy herself, that dear one was free in heart to encourage and cheer her fellow-sufferers. Other women were amongst the number, and she spent life's last moments seeking to strengthen their faith in God. Maria sheaved neither fear nor timidity, but a holy boldness marked her rejoicing end.
When bound to the stake, she asked her fellow-martyrs to join her in singing a psalm. That was more than her wicked enemies would allow. It made the dying ones too much like victors (as they truly were), when they could praise God in face of death. So they gagged the mouth of Maria de Bohorques, that she might cease to lead others to praise the living God. That was an indignity not usually put upon women, so Maria was distinguished by this additional suffering for the name of the Lord.
Before the pile of wood was lighted, the gag was removed, the sentence again read, and a last appeal made for the martyrs to abjure their faith. The same calmness continued unbroken as Maria distinctly uttered the words, "I neither can nor will recant." At a later moment, with the lighted torch before her eyes, she was again entreated to own the Church of Rome. She replied with a repetition of her faith, and continued speaking till the moment when, in their wrath, they strangled her, and thus added to their own guilt and condemnation. On the 24th of September, 1559, Maria de Bohorques was "absent from the body, present with the Lord," and the lighted fagots soon consumed her body to dust which now awaits the resurrection-morn.