ON THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.
I find myself naturally led to make a few observations on the
intolerance of certain Catholic princes, on the Inquisition, and in
particular on that of Spain. I must make a rapid examination of the
charges against Catholicity on account of its conduct during the last
centuries. The dungeons, the burnings of the Inquisition, and the
intolerance of some Catholic princes, have furnished the enemies of
the Church with one of their most effective arguments in depreciating
her, and rendering her the object of odium and hatred; and it must
be allowed that they have, in attacks of this kind, many advantages,
which give them good prospects of success. Indeed (as we have said
above, for the generality of readers, who, without undertaking to
examine things to the bottom, naïvely allow themselves to be led away
by a subtle writer; as we have said, for all those who have sensitive
hearts, and are prompt to pity the unfortunate), what is more likely to
excite indignation than the exhibition of dark dungeons, instruments
of torture, _san-benitos_, and burnings? Imagine what effect must be
produced, amid our toleration, our gentle manners, our humane penal
codes, by the sudden exhibition of the severities, the cruelties of
another age; the whole exaggerated and grouped into one picture,
where are shown all the melancholy scenes which occurred in different
places, and were spread over a long period of time. They take care to
remind us that all this was done in the name of the God of peace and
love; thereby the contrast is rendered more vivid, the imagination
is excited, the heart becomes indignant; and the result is, that the
clergy, magistrates, kings, and popes of those remote times, appear
like a troop of executioners, whose pleasure consists in tormenting
and desolating the human race. Writers, who have ventured to act in
this way, have certainly not added to their reputation for delicacy of
conscience. There is a rule which orators and writers ought never to
forget, viz. that it is not allowable to excite the passions, until
they have convinced the reason, unless it had been convinced before.
Besides, there is a degree of bad faith in appealing to the feelings
with respect to matters which ought to be examined by the light of
reason alone, if they are to be examined properly. In such a case we
ought not to begin by moving, but by convincing; to do otherwise is to
deceive the reader.
I am not going to write the history of the Inquisition, or of the
different systems which various countries have adopted with respect
to religious intolerance; this would be impossible within my narrow
limits; besides, it would lead me away from the object of my work.
Ought we to draw from the Inquisition in general, that of Spain in
particular, or from the greater or less intolerance of the legislation
of some countries, an accusation against Catholicity? Can it, in
this respect, be put in comparison with Protestantism? Such are the
questions I have to examine.
Three things at first present themselves to the eyes of the observer:
1st, the legislation and institutions proceeding from the principle of
intolerance; 2d, the use which has been made of this legislation and
these institutions; 3d, the intolerant acts which have been committed
illegally. With respect to the latter, I must say at once that they
have nothing to do with the question. The Massacre of St. Bartholomew,
and other atrocities committed in the name of religion, ought not to
trouble the apologists of religion: to render her responsible for
all that has been done in her name, would be to act with manifest
injustice. Man is endowed with so strong and lively a sense of the
excellence of virtue, that he endeavors to cover the greatest crimes
with her mantle;--would it be reasonable to banish virtue from the
earth on that account? There are, in the history of mankind, terrible
periods, where a fatal giddiness seizes upon the mind; rage, inflamed
by disorder, blinds the intellect and changes the heart; evil is
called good, and good evil; the most horrible attempts are made under
the most respectable names. Historians and philosophers, in treating
of such periods, should know what ought to be their line of conduct;
strictly accurate in the narration of such facts, they ought to
beware of drawing from them a judgment as to the prevailing ideas and
institutions. Society then resembles a man in a state of delirium;
we should ill judge of the ideas, character, and conduct of such a
man, from what he says and does in that deplorable condition. What
party, in those calamitous times, can boast of not having committed
great crimes? If we fix our eyes on the period just mentioned, do we
not see the leaders of both parties assassinated by treason? Admiral
Coligny died by the hands of the assassins who began the massacre of
St. Bartholomew; but the Duke of Guise had been also assassinated
by Poltrot, before Orleans. Henry III. was assassinated by Jacques
Clement; but this same Henry III. had treacherously murdered the other
Duke of Guise in the corridors of his palace, and his brother, the
Cardinal, in the tower of Moulins; this same Henry III. had taken
part in the massacre of St. Bartholomew. We see atrocities committed
by the Catholics; but did not their opponents also commit them? Let
us throw a veil over these catastrophes, over these afflicting proofs
of the misery and perversity of the human heart. The tribunal of
the Inquisition, considered in itself, is only the application to a
particular case of that doctrine of intolerance, which, to a greater
or less degree, is that of every existing power. Thus, we have only to
examine the character of that particular application, and see whether
its enemies are correct in their charges against it. In the first
place, we must observe that those who extol antiquity, sadly falsify
history, if they pretend that intolerance only appeared after the time
when, according to them, the Church had degenerated from her primitive
purity. As for myself, I see that from the earliest times, when the
Church began to exert political influence, heresy began to figure in
the codes as a crime; and I have never been able to discover a period
of complete tolerance. I must here make an important remark, which
shows one of the causes of the rigor displayed in later centuries.
The Inquisition was first directed against the Manichean heretics;
that is, against the sectaries who at all times were treated with
the greatest severity. In the 11th century, when the punishment of
fire had not yet been applied to the crime of heresy, the Manicheans
were excepted from this rule. Even in the time of the Pagan emperors,
these sectaries were treated with extreme rigor. In the year 296, we
see Diocletian and Maximilian, by an edict, condemning to different
punishments the Manicheans who had not abjured their dogmas, and
consigning their leaders to the fire. These sectaries have always been
considered as great criminals; and to punish them has always been
judged necessary, not only for the interests of religion, but even for
the morals and good order of society. This was one of the causes of
the rigor of the Inquisition at its commencement: if we add to this,
the turbulent character of the sects which, under various names, arose
in the 11th, 12th, and 13th centuries, we shall have two of the causes
that contributed to produce those scenes which now we can scarcely
credit. In studying the history of those centuries, and fixing our
attention on the troubles and disasters which ravaged the south of
France, we clearly see that it was not a dispute as to a particular
dogma, but that the whole social system was compromised. The sectaries
of those times were precursors of those of the 16th century; with this
difference, that the latter, if we except the frantic Anabaptists, were
less democratic, less apt to address the multitude. Amid the cruelties
of those times, when long ages of violence and revolution had given an
excessive preponderance to brute force, what could be expected from
governments incessantly menaced with such imminent danger? It is clear
that the laws, and their application, must savour of the times.
As to the Spanish Inquisition, which was only an extension of that
which was established in other countries, we must divide it, with
respect to its duration, into three great periods;--we omit the time of
its existence in the kingdom of Aragon, before its introduction into
Castille. The first of these comprehends the time when the Inquisition
was principally directed against the relapsed Jews and Moors, from
the day of its installation under the Catholic sovereigns, till the
middle of the reign of Charles V. The second extends from the time
when it began to concentrate its efforts to prevent the introduction
of Protestantism into Spain, until that danger entirely ceased; that
is, from the middle of the reign of Charles V. till the coming of
the Bourbons. The third and last period is that when the Inquisition
was limited to repress infamous crimes, and exclude the philosophy
of Voltaire; this period was continued until its abolition in the
beginning of the present century. It is clear that, the institution
being successively modified according to circumstances at these
different epochs,--although it always remained fundamentally the
same,--the commencement and termination of each of these three periods
which we have pointed out cannot be precisely marked; nevertheless,
these three periods really existed in its history, and present us with
very different characters.
Every one knows the peculiar circumstances in which the Inquisition
was established in the time of the Catholic sovereigns; yet it is
worthy of remark, that the Bull of establishment was solicited by Queen
Isabella; that is, by one of the most distinguished sovereigns in our
history,--by that queen who still, after three centuries, preserves the
respect and admiration of all Spaniards. Isabella, far from opposing
the will of the people in this measure, only realized the national
wish. The Inquisition was established chiefly against the Jews; the
Papal Bull had been sent in 1478; now, before the Inquisition published
its first edict, dated Seville, in 1481, the Cortes of Toledo, in 1480,
had adopted severe measures on the subject. To prevent the injury
which the intercourse between Jews and Christians might occasion to
the Catholic faith, the Cortes had ordered that unbaptized Israelites
should be obliged to wear a distinctive mark, dwell in separate
quarters, called _Juiveries_, and return there before night. Ancient
regulations against them were renewed; the professions of doctor,
surgeon, shopkeeper, barber, and tavern-keeper, were forbidden them.
Intolerance was, therefore, popular at that time. If the Inquisition be
justified in the eyes of friends to monarchy, by conformity with the
will of kings, it has an equal claim to be so in the eyes of lovers of
democracy.
No doubt the heart is grieved at reading the excessive severities
exercised at that time against the Jews; but must there not have
been very grave causes to provoke such excesses? The danger which
the Spanish monarchy, not yet well established, would have incurred
if the Jews, then very powerful on account of their riches and their
alliances with the most influential families, had been allowed to act
without restraint, has been pointed out as one of the most important
of these causes. It was greatly to be feared that they would league
with the Moors against the Christians. The respective positions of the
three nations rendered this league natural: this is the reason why it
was looked upon as necessary to break a power which was capable of
compromising anew the independence of the Christians. It is necessary
also to observe, that at the time when the Inquisition was established,
the war of eight hundred years against the Moors was not yet finished.
The Inquisition was projected before 1474; it was established in
1480, and the conquest of Granada did not take place till 1492. Thus
it was founded at the time when the obstinate struggle was about
to be decided; it was yet to be known whether the Christians would
remain masters of the whole peninsula, or whether the Moors should
retain possession of one of the most fertile and beautiful provinces;
whether these enemies, shut up in Granada, should preserve a position,
excellent for their communication with Africa, and a means for all the
attempts which, at a later period, the Crescent might be disposed to
make against us. Now, the power of the Crescent was very great, as was
clearly shown by its enterprises against the rest of Europe in the next
century. In such emergencies, after ages of fighting, and at the moment
which was to decide the victory for ever, have combatants ever been
known to conduct themselves with moderation and mildness? It cannot be
denied that the system of repression pursued in Spain, with respect
to the Jews and the Moors, was inspired, in great measure, by the
instinct of self-preservation: we can easily believe that the Catholic
princes had this motive before them when they decided on asking for the
establishment of the Inquisition in their dominions. The danger was not
imaginary: it was perfectly real. In order to form an idea of the turn
which things might have taken if some precaution had not been adopted,
it is enough to recollect the insurrections of the last Moors in later
times.
Yet it would be wrong, in this affair, to attribute all to the policy
of royalty; and it is necessary here to avoid exalting too much the
foresight and designs of men; for my part, I am inclined to think that
Ferdinand and Isabella naturally followed the generality of the nation,
in whose eyes the Jews were odious when they persevered in their creed,
and suspected when they embraced the Christian religion. Two causes
contributed to this hatred and animadversion. First, the excited state
of religious feeling then general in all Europe, and especially in
Spain; 2d, the conduct by which the Jews had drawn upon themselves the
public indignation.
The necessity of restraining the cupidity of the Jews, for the sake
of the independence of the Christians, was of ancient date in Spain:
the old assemblies of Toledo had attempted it. In the following
centuries the evil reached its height; a great part of the riches of
the peninsula had passed into the hands of the Jews, and almost all the
Christians found themselves their debtors. Thence the hatred of the
people against the Jews; thence the frequent troubles which agitated
some towns of the peninsula; thence the tumults which more than once
were fatal to the Jews, and in which their blood flowed in abundance.
It was difficult for a people accustomed for ages to set themselves
free by force of arms, to resign themselves peacefully and tranquilly
to the lot prepared for them by the artifices and exactions of a
strange race, whose name, moreover, bore the recollection of a terrible
malediction.
In later times, an immense number of Jews were converted to the
Christian religion; but the hatred of the people was not extinguished
thereby, and mistrust followed these converts into their new state. It
is very probable that a great number of these conversions were hardly
sincere, as they were partly caused by the sad position in which the
Jews who continued in Judaism were placed. In default of conjectures
founded on reason in this respect, we will regard as a sufficient
corroboration of our opinion, the multitude of Judaizing Christians
who were discovered as soon as care was taken to find out those who
had been guilty of apostacy. However this may be, it is certain that
the distinction between _new and old_ Christians was introduced;
the latter denomination was a title of honor, and the former a
mark of ignominy; the converted Jews were contemptuously called
_marranos_,--impure men, pigs. With more or less foundation, they were
accused of horrible crimes. In their dark assemblies they committed,
it was said, atrocities which could hardly be believed, for the honor
of humanity. For example, it was said that, to revenge themselves on
the Christians and in contempt of religion, they crucified Christian
children, taking care to choose for the purpose the greatest day
among Christian solemnities. There is the often-repeated history of
the knight of the house of Guzman, who, being hidden one night in the
house of a Jew whose daughter he loved, saw a child crucified at the
time when the Christians celebrated the institution of the sacrifice
of the Eucharist. Besides infanticide, there were attributed to the
Jews, sacrileges, poisonings, conspiracies, and other crimes. That
these rumors were generally believed by the people is proved by the
fact, that the Jews were forbidden by law to exercise the professions
of doctor, surgeon, barber, and tavern-keeper; this shows what degree
of confidence was placed in their morality. It is useless to stay to
examine the foundations for these sinister accusations. We are not
ignorant how far popular credulity will go, above all when it is under
the influence of excited feelings, which makes it view all things
in the same light. It is enough for us to know that these rumors
circulated everywhere and with credit, to understand what must have
been the public indignation against the Jews, and consequently how
natural it was that authority, yielding to the impulse of the general
mind, should be urged to treat them with excessive rigor.
The situation in which the Jews were placed is sufficient to show, that
they might have attempted to act in concert to resist the Christians;
what they did after the death of St. Peter Arbues shows what they
were capable of doing on other occasions. The funds necessary for the
accomplishment of the murder, the pay of the assassins, and the other
expenses required for the plot, were collected by means of voluntary
contributions imposed on themselves by all the Jews of Aragon. Does not
this show an advanced state of organization, which might have become
fatal if it had not been watched.
In alluding to the death of St. Peter Arbues, I wish to make an
observation on what has been said on this subject, as proving the
unpopularity of the establishment of the Inquisition in Spain.
What more evident proof, we shall be told, can you have than the
assassination of the Inquisitor? Is it not a sure sign that the
indignation of the people was at its height, and that they were quite
opposed to the Inquisition? Would they otherwise have been hurried
into such excesses? If by 'the people' you mean the Jews and their
descendants, I will not deny that the establishment of the Inquisition
was indeed very odious to them; but it was not so with the rest of the
nation. The event we are speaking of gave rise to a circumstance which
proves just the reverse. When the report of the death of the Inquisitor
was spread through the town, the people made a fearful tumult to
avenge his death. They spread through the town, they went in crowds in
pursuit of the _new Christians_, so that a bloody catastrophe would
have ensued, had not the young Archbishop of Saragossa, Alphonsus of
Aragon, presented himself to the people on horseback, and calmed them
by the assurance that all the rigor of the laws should fall on the
heads of the guilty. Was the Inquisition as unpopular as it has been
represented; and will it be said that its adversaries were the majority
of the people? Why, then, could not the tumult at Saragossa have been
avoided in spite of all the precautions which were no doubt taken
by the conspirators, at that time very powerful by their riches and
influence?
At the time of the greatest rigor against the Judaizing Christians,
there is a fact worthy of attention. Persons accused, or threatened
with the pursuit of the Inquisition, took every means to escape the
action of that tribunal: they left the soil of Spain and went to
Rome. Would those who imagine that Rome has always been the hotbed of
intolerance, the firebrand of persecution, have imagined this? The
number of causes commenced by the Inquisition, and summoned from Spain
to Rome, is countless, during the first fifty years of the existence
of that tribunal; and it must be added, that Rome always inclined to
the side of indulgence. I do not know that it would be possible to
cite one accused person who, by appealing to Rome, did not ameliorate
his condition. The history of the Inquisition at that time is full of
contests between the Kings and Popes; and we constantly find, on the
part of the Holy See, a desire to restrain the Inquisition within the
bounds of justice and humanity. The line of conduct prescribed by the
court of Rome was not always followed as it ought to have been; thus we
see the Popes compelled to receive a multitude of appeals, and mitigate
the lot that would have befallen the appellants, if their cause had
been definitely decided in Spain. We also see the Pope name the judge
of appeal, at the solicitation of the Catholic sovereigns, who desired
that causes should be finally decided in Spain: the first of these
judges was Dr. Inigo Manrique, Archbishop of Seville. Nevertheless, at
the end of a short time, the same Pope, in a Bull of the 2d of August,
1483, said that he had received new appeals, made by a great number
of the Spaniards of Seville, who had not dared to address themselves
to the judge of appeal for fear of being arrested. Such was then the
excitement of the public mind; such was, at that time, the necessity
of preventing injustice, or measures of undue severity. The Pope
added, that some of those who had had recourse to his justice had
already received the absolution of the Apostolical Penitentiary, and
that others were about to receive it; he afterwards complained that
indulgences granted to divers accused persons had not been sufficiently
respected at Seville; in fine, after several other admonitions, he
observed to Ferdinand and Isabella, that mercy towards the guilty was
more pleasing to God than the severity which it was desired to use; and
he gave the example of the good Shepherd following the wandering sheep.
He ended by exhorting the sovereigns to treat with mildness those who
voluntarily confessed their faults, desiring them to allow them to
reside at Seville, or in some other place they might choose; and to
allow them the enjoyment of their property, as if they had not been
guilty of the crime of heresy.
Moreover, it is not to be supposed that the appeals admitted at Rome,
and by virtue of which the lot of the accused was improved, were
founded on errors of form and injustice committed in the application
of the law. If the accused had recourse to Rome, it was not always
to demand reparation for an injustice, but because they were sure of
finding indulgence. We have a proof of this in the considerable number
of Spanish refugees convicted at Rome of having fallen into Judaism.
Two hundred and fifty of them were found at one time; yet there was not
one capital execution. Some penances were imposed on them, and when
they were absolved, they were free to return home, without the least
mark of ignominy. This took place at Rome in 1498.
It is a remarkable thing that the Roman Inquisition was never known to
pronounce the execution of capital punishment, although the Apostolic
See was occupied during that time by Popes of extreme rigor and
severity in all that relates to the civil administration. We find
in all parts of Europe scaffolds prepared to punish crimes against
religion; scenes which sadden the soul were everywhere witnessed. Rome
is an exception to the rule; Rome, which it has been attempted to
represent as a monster of intolerance and cruelty. It is true, that
the Popes have not preached, like Protestants, universal toleration;
but facts show the difference between the Popes and Protestants. The
Popes, armed with a tribunal of intolerance, have not spilled a drop of
blood; Protestants and philosophers have shed torrents. What advantage
is it to the victim to hear his executioners proclaim toleration? It
is adding the bitterness of sarcasm to his punishment. The conduct
of Rome in the use which she made of the Inquisition, is the best
apology of Catholicity against those who attempt to stigmatize her as
barbarous and sanguinary. In truth, what is there in common between
Catholicity and the excessive severity employed in this place or that,
in the extraordinary situation in which many rival races were placed,
in the presence of danger which menaced one of them, or in the interest
which the kings had in maintaining the tranquillity of their states,
and securing their conquests from all danger? I will not enter into a
detailed examination of the conduct of the Spanish Inquisition with
respect to Judaizing Christians; and I am far from thinking that the
rigor which it employed against them was preferable to the mildness
recommended and displayed by the Popes. What I wish to show here is,
that rigor was the result of extraordinary circumstances,--the effect
of the national spirit, and of the severity of customs in Europe at
that time. Catholicity cannot be reproached with excesses committed
for these different reasons. Still more, if we pay attention to the
spirit which prevails in all the instructions of the Popes relating
to the Inquisition; if we observe their manifest inclination to
range themselves on the side of mildness, and to suppress the marks
of ignominy with which the guilty, as well as their families, were
stigmatized, we have a right to suppose that, if the Popes had not
feared to displease the kings too much, and to excite divisions which
might have been fatal, their measures would have been carried still
further. If we recollect the negotiations which took place with respect
to the noisy affair of the claims of the Cortes of Aragon, we shall see
to which side the court of Rome leaned.
As we are speaking of intolerance with regard to the Judaizers, let us
say a few words as to the disposition of Luther towards the Jews. Does
it not seem that the pretended reformer, the founder of independence of
thought, the furious declaimer against the oppression and tyranny of
the Popes, should have been animated with the most humane sentiments
towards that people? No doubt the eulogists of this chieftain of
Protestantism ought to think thus also. I am sorry for them; but
history will not allow us to partake of this delusion. According to
all appearances, if the apostate monk had found himself in the place
of Torquemada, the Judaizers would not have been in a better position.
What, then, was the system advised by Luther, according to Seckendorf,
one of his apologists? "Their synagogues ought to be destroyed, their
houses pulled down, their prayer-books, the Talmud, and even the books
of the Old Testament, to be taken from them; their rabbis ought to
be forbidden to teach, and be compelled to gain their livelihood by
hard labor." The Inquisition, at least, did not proceed against the
Jews, but against the Judaizers; that is, against those who, after
being converted to Christianity, relapsed into their errors, and added
sacrilege to their apostacy, by the external profession of a creed
which they detested in secret, and which they profaned by the exercise
of their old religion. But Luther extended his severity to the Jews
themselves; so that, according to his doctrines, no reproach can be
made against the sovereign who expelled the Jews from their dominions.
The Moors and the Mooriscoes no less occupied the attention of the
Inquisition at that time; and all that has been said on the subject
of the Jews may be applied to them with some modifications. They were
also an abhorred race--a race which had been contended with for eight
centuries. When they retained their religion, the Moors inspired
hatred; when they abjured it, mistrust; the Popes interested themselves
in their favor also in a peculiar manner. We ought to remark a Bull
issued in 1530, which is expressed in language quite evangelical: it is
there said, that the ignorance of these nations is one of the principal
causes of their faults and errors; the first thing to be done to render
their conversion solid and sincere was, according to the recommendation
contained in this Bull, to endeavor to enlighten their minds with sound
doctrine.
It will be said that the Pope granted to Charles V. the Bull which
released him from the oath taken in the Cortes of Saragossa in the year
1519; an oath, by which he had engaged not to make any change with
respect to the Moors; whereby, it is said, the Emperor was enabled to
complete their expulsion. But, we must observe, that the Pope for a
long time resisted that concession; and, that if he at length complied
with the wishes of the Emperor, it was only because he thought that the
expulsion of the Moors was indispensable to secure the tranquillity of
the kingdom. Whether this was true or not, the Emperor, and not the
Pope, was the better judge; the latter, placed at a great distance,
could not know the real state of things in detail. Moreover, it was not
the Spanish monarch alone who thought so; it is related that Francis
I., when a prisoner at Madrid, one day conversing with Charles V., told
him that tranquillity would never be established in Spain, if the Moors
and Mooriscoes were not expelled.