# Der Lutheraner_St. Louis Missouri_1848 05 24_S174
# AI translation — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

"If, then, you believe that it belongs to the Most High alone to have an oath sworn here, the Inquisition, moved by leniency, releases you from the oath; yet it demands that, without further delay, you sincerely promise the following three things: First, that you will render perfect obedience to the holy Roman Church and especially to its superiors, and will remain the rest of your life in Rome, without any desire to go to your homeland or to any other place; Second, that of the disputed matters which have become known to you through the reading of these books, you will make not the slightest mention, either to the learned or the unlearned, either to the laity or to the clergy, or to any person whatsoever; Third, that of the whole inquisitorial process already conducted, and still to be conducted, you will reveal absolutely nothing. If you transgress any one of these, you are to know that you will fall subject to these same penalties of the Inquisition, and to still crueler ones." This I promised, though without an oath.

Thereupon the whole council went into the next hall; the Cardinal took his place on the right and the assessors on the left. The Inquisitor, clothed with a stole, sat down upon a splendid chair. On the altar, which had been set up for this purpose, two candles were lit. And I, dressed in the garb of a sacrificial priest, was directed to fall on my knees before the Inquisitor. But since my exhausted strength did not permit this, two cushions were laid down and I was held under the arms by two lay brothers of the Dominicans. The Inquisitor absolved me from every ban, the greater and the lesser, from suspension, interdict, and other ecclesiastical penalties, and restored to me my former standing. Having received absolution, I hoped also to be freed from the torments of the Inquisition; but the Inquisitor commanded the notary to announce to me the final decree of the Inquisition, which he then read to me standing, as follows: "Since the Holy Office observes that your illness increases from day to day, it has, out of great mercy, granted that physicians and surgeons may visit you and apply to you the necessary treatments and medicines; meanwhile, however, on account of the suspicion of heresy, you will remain a prisoner for another half year under the supervision of the Inquisition, though you shall be kept in more comfortable prisons and provided with better food."

I was then assigned to another prison. The physicians began their treatment of me, which was so painful that no one who has not seen it with his own eyes can imagine it. Seven small bones were removed from my skull, which, on account of the earlier, all-too-damp prison, had already begun to rot. The scars are still to be seen. The bodily pains of this last imprisonment were, however, not so terrible. But my conscience had heavy battles to endure. I was given assignments to compose speeches in the Latin language on the most perverse articles of the papacy, namely on the authority and infallibility of the Roman Church, on the succession of the popes, on the invocation and canonization of the saints, and so forth.

When this tyranny too had been endured, the council of the Inquisition assembled once more. The Inquisitor made known to me the final inquisitorial decree, and promised me freedom if I would promise these two points under oath: that I would remain in Rome the whole of my life, and would never reveal anything of the inquisitorial process and the disputed matters known to me. But if I would not take this oath, I would have to be condemned to perpetual imprisonment. Fear of such an imprisonment terrified me and brought me to take the required oath. I was then handed over to the prelate of S. Maria de Pace, whom I was to honor as my true superior, and in whose college I was to spend my life. I dwelt in this college for a year and a half after the Inquisition. This time was especially favorable to me for coming to know the most godless Roman tricks by which the inexperienced are ensnared. I was eager to attend the conversations of the foremost doctors and cardinals ("whose denial of God and intrigues I shall shortly make public in print, together with a fuller description of the originator and propagator of the Inquisition"). I now had again to read Mass, hear confession, and so forth, against which my convicted conscience struggled so greatly that I would often rather have chosen death than this wretched life. The constant pangs of conscience seemed to me more unbearable than the Inquisition itself. In this heaviest pressure of conscience I finally overcame the fear of the torments of the Inquisition, which had until then held back my departure from Babel. So when, during the daily and nightly forty hours' prayers held in the church — a service that stood in great regard among us — an opportunity presented itself, I did not let it pass, but, after most earnestly calling upon God, sought in the middle of the night a secret way out of the church. The attempt succeeded. With quick steps I went through the city. I came near the church of S. Mariae Majoris. I spent the remaining hours of the night on the journey. At daybreak I hid myself in the thicket of the forest. I ran through trackless mountains and for four days did not enjoy a single bite of bread. On the fifth day, tormented by hunger, I went into a lonely farmhouse. I bought bread, wine, and eggs with my little money. And, somewhat refreshed, I spoke with the farmer about the nearby places. Among others he named to me an old town, commonly called Cittavecchia. I inquired the right way there, arrived, hid myself in a garden, and waited for the evening hours. Since the gates were soon to be closed, I went through the town toward the harbor, asked for a ship bound for Livorno or Genoa. Fortune smiled. I was shown two ships that were to set sail that very night. I went aboard the first, and asked the shipmaster to take me along to Livorno as a poor clergyman. He heeded my request and promised free passage. In the second hour of the night the ship set sail, and the winds were so favorable that on the third day we reached the harbor of Livorno. Here I exchanged my priestly garments with a Jew, obtained passage on a ship to Genoa, went from there on foot to Tortona, Pavia, Milan, Como, and over the highest mountains into Switzerland and into a famous imperial city, where I was furnished with resources and letters of recommendation. At last I came to Jena, and in this famous university, where the blossoms of evangelical truth shine forth above all others, I have resolved to pay to the Lord, who has called me back, my vows, for my own salvation and that of many erring souls, but chiefly for the glory and honor of God, the Most High, to whom be praise and glory in all eternity. Amen. B.

Latest from Oregon.

The dear readers of our paper, who together with us look to Oregon as the next goal of our mission, will certainly hear with interest the following, though distressing, news from that land. We take it from the "Republican" of St. Louis, which under the date of May 18 communicates the report of Mr. Joseph L. Meek, who had arrived there from Oregon the day before.

It was on November 29 of last year that the Cayuse Indians attacked the mission station at Waiilatpu, killed Dr. Whitman along with thirteen persons, wounded several more, and led the rest into captivity. The occasion for this dreadful bloodbath was as follows: among the Cayuse Indians several contagious diseases raged, of which many died, especially in and around Waiilatpu, the doctor's dwelling place, who tirelessly labored to bring medical help to the sick and to ease their sufferings. Then the poor, blind people conceived the suspicion, into which they were unfortunately led by several circumstances,