At this period a frightful pestilence swept over Seville, reducing the population by thirty thousand, and causing great suffering. The clergy resorted to prayer; charms and relics of the saints were displayed in the churches; but little or nothing was done in the way of preventing a spread of the plague by sanitation, or of alleviating the malady by medical science. It is a saddening picture--the people dying of the disease, thousands languishing in dungeons, and a multitude filled with fear lest they should succumb to the epidemic, or fall into the hands of the Inquisitors. Puigblanch, author of _The Inquisition Unmasked_, states that the number of the banished and the 'reconciled' in Andalusia from 1480 to 1520 was a hundred thousand. He asserts that forty-five thousand persons were done to death in the Archbishopric of Seville during this period. Without the city, on the Prado de San Sebastian, is the burning ground. As we stand there, the imagination conjures a procession accompanying a victim to the awful torture of the stake. The doomed man is an aged and devout Morisco, who has saved money by his industry. He has been found guilty of infidelity, and he has refused to partake of the Christian sacrament. He is dressed in the sanbenito, a yellow garment, with pictures of devils kindling a fire and burning faggots, and on his head is a fantastic conical cap of pasteboard, called the _coroza_. First comes a troop of soldiers to clear a path for the procession through the jostling rabble. The soldiers are followed by several priests in canonical vestments, and the boys of the College of Doctrine, who chant the liturgy. Then comes the convicted heretic, with a familiar on either side, and two friars, followed by the judges, ministers of government, and hidalgoes on horseback. In another procession comes the Inquisitors, and their standard of red, with the names and insignia of Pope Sixtus IV. and King Fernando upon it. The members of the Holy Office are escorted by esquires, and in the rear is a great mob of towns-people. But enough: imagination is at this point repelled. We turn away from the scene, and enter the shady gardens that stretch along the Guadalquivir, to scent the flowers and to listen to the thrush and nightingale. We cannot, however, close our perceptions to the fact that Seville played an important part in the Inquisition. In roaming the streets of the city, it is impossible to forget that this mighty instrument of fanaticism has left its impress on Spain. We remember that every son of Seville who dared to exercise his conscience in the matter of religious belief ran the risk of ending his life upon the Prado de San Sebastian. The terror of this institution must have blighted the lives of millions of Spaniards. And we are moved to the reflection that the good which Isabel performed with one hand was almost destroyed by the evil inflicted by the other.