1. WILLIAM LITHGOW.--William Lithgow was a gentleman of Scotland, and while travelling on foot over Europe he came to Malaga, in Spain, in the year 1620, when he was apprehended as a spy connected with the English fleet then in that port. His cruel treatment by the governor and his sufferings in the Inquisition will best appear from his own words, as follows:-- “Upon the knowledge that I was secretly to be incarcerate in the governor’s palace, entered the Mr. Sergeant and begged my money, and license to search it; and liberty granted, he found in my pockets eleven phillipoes or ducatoons; and then unclothing me before their eyes, even to my shirt, and searching my breeches, he found in my doublet-neck, fast shut between two canvasses, a hundred and thirty-seven double pieces of gold. Whereat the corregidor arose, and counting my gold, being five hundred and forty-eight ducats, he said to the sergeant, ‘Clothe him again, and enclose him there in the cabinet till after supper.’ Meanwhile, the sergeant got the eleven ducatoons of silver; and my gold, which was to take me to Ethiopia, the governor seized upon; giving afterwards two hundred crowns of it to supply the new foundation of a Capuchin monastery there, reserving the rest, being three hundred and forty-eight ducats, for his own avaricious ends. “This done, and midnight come, the sergeant and two Turkish slaves, releasing me from the inferior room, brought me through certain ascending passages to a chamber right above his summer kitchen; where, and then, the sergeants and the two slaves thrust on every ancle a heavy bolt, my legs being put to a full stride, by a strong gad of iron, far above a yard long; upon the ends of which the two bolts depended that were fastened about my legs; insomuch that I could never sit up, nor walk, nor stand, nor turn me, but lay continually on my back, the two irons being thrice heavier than my body. They left me with solacious words, and straight returned with victuals, being a pound of boiled mutton, a wheat bread, and a small pint of wine, which was the first, the best, and the last of this kind that ever I got in that woeful mansion. The sergeant leaving me, never seeing him more till a more unwelcome sight, he directed the slaves that after I had contented my discontented appetite, they should lock the door and carry the keys to Areta, a Spaniard, and keeper of the silver plate. The day following, the governor entered my prison alone, entreating me to confess that I was a spy, and he would be my friend, and procure my pardon; neither in the meantime should I lack any needful thing. But I still attesting my innocence, he wrathfully swore that I should see his face no more till grievous torments should make me do it; and leaving me in a rage he observed too well his condition.