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DEALINGS WITH THE INQUISITION:
Or,
Papal Rome, Her Priests, and Her Jesuits.
With Important Disclosures.
by the
REV. GIACINTO ACHILLI, D.D.
Late Prior and Visitor of the Dominican Order, Head Professor of
Theology, and Vicar of the Master of the Sacred
Apostolic Palace, etc. etc.
"Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: the
snare is broken and we are escaped."--_Ps._ cxxiv. 7.
"It is time for thee, LORD, to work; for they have made void thy
law."--_Ps._ cxix. 126.
Second Edition, Enlarged.
London:
Arthur Hall, Virtue & Co.
25, Paternoster Row.
1851.
London:
R. Clay, Printer, Bread Street Hill.
PREFACE.
THE first edition of the ensuing pages having been disposed of very
shortly after the publication of it, the Author has availed himself
of the opportunity afforded him by a second being called for, to make
several important additions, which will be found in the Appendix; and
to subject the whole to a minute and careful revision: nor can he
send forth his work again before the Public, without expressing the
heartfelt gratification it has given him to find the simple narrative,
which has been written "for conscience sake," so generally appreciated
in the very light in which he was most anxious for it to be viewed;
viz. as the humble instrument of use in the cause of religious freedom
and gospel truth; a cause sacred in itself, and indissolubly connected
with the moral and political prosperity and happiness of the whole
family of the human race.
DEALINGS
WITH THE INQUISITION.
CHAPTER I.
MY REASONS FOR GIVING THE HISTORY OF MY IMPRISONMENT TO THE WORLD.
IT was in the month of July, 1842, that I was released, by order
of Pope Gregory, from my first imprisonment in the dungeons of the
Inquisition. On this occasion, one of the Dominican monks who serve the
office of Inquisitor, inquired of me, with a malicious look, whether
I, also, intended, one day, to write an account of the Inquisition,
as a well-known author had done before me, with respect to Spielberg,
in his celebrated work, "_Le mie prigioni_." Perceiving at once the
object of this deceitful interrogation, which was only to afford a
pretext for renewing my incarceration, at the very moment when liberty
was before me, I smiled at my interlocutor, and exclaimed, "How is it
possible, _Padre Inquisitore_, you can imagine I can have any idea of
vindicating myself, on account of the imprisonment I have undergone?
No, be assured, whatever injustice you may have committed towards
me, I shall attempt no vindication. You know full well that in this
country there exists no tribunal higher than your own: even that of
conscience is silent here, and prostrate before you. Should I make my
complaint elsewhere, and appeal to the justice of another land, how
could I hope, unknown and unfriended as I am, that my story would be
listened to? Distrust is natural to man. One only Tribunal remains;
from that neither you nor I can escape; and it is to that same Tribunal
that I shall be able to summon the Pope and his Cardinals. Nay, setting
aside the idea of my own appeal, they will be summoned there by the
great Judge himself. I believe in the declaration of Scripture, 'We
shall all appear at the judgment-seat of Christ.' And it is there,
_Padre Inquisitore_, that our cause will be tried, and the justice of
your decrees adjudicated. Moreover, I shall not, at the present time,
describe my imprisonment; not because I have not sufficient materials,
but because it shall not be said that I seek to avenge myself, in
publishing to the world what you study to hide. This time I shall
make it my business to write concerning my liberty, rather than my
confinement. The latter, indeed, might gratify the merely inquisitive;
but the former will be a source of satisfaction to many kind hearts. If
I speak of my imprisonment alone, I merely enjoy the advantage--perhaps
a useless one--of engaging for awhile the ear of the public; but if I
treat of the liberty I have gained, _O Padre Inquisitore_, the holy and
the real liberty I have achieved, then indeed I may hope to see around
me those generous spirits who, also escaped from their imprisonment,
flock to the true standard of liberty--to the word of God."
At these words the Inquisitor appeared perplexed, and, abruptly
remarked: "You say you shall not write an account of your imprisonment
this time; have you then any idea of returning here?"
"At any rate, you may rest assured, that should I ever again be shut up
in the Inquisition, no consideration will then prevent me from giving a
full account of all I may have seen or heard, as soon as I am released."
"Oh! another time you would not get away so easily."
"I can readily imagine it. Indeed, I do not know how it has happened
that I have got off so cheaply in the present instance, with only three
months' confinement. But in case you should lay hands on me again,
would you then, _Padre Inquisitore_, permit me to give a short account
of my treatment?"
"Only let us see you back, and then it will be time enough to talk
about it," replied the Inquisitor, with an air of spiteful derision,
that sufficiently indicated what kind of treatment I might expect.
Now, as it has happened that my return did take place, I feel myself
authorized, and indeed called upon, to keep my word. The Inquisitor no
doubt resolved that if I ever again fell into his power, I should not
a second time escape; and his purpose was very near being realized.
Every precaution was taken to render my confinement more severe, and
every means of escape provided against. And as it was imagined that
the prisons of the Inquisition were less secure than those of the
Castle of St. Angelo, I was speedily removed to that fortress. In
fact, everything indicated a determination, on the part of the Church
of Rome, to keep me in perpetual incarceration; so that I should
altogether have despaired of ever knowing the blessing of liberty
again, had my chance of obtaining it rested on the will of my enemies.
Often, no doubt, the Inquisitors have said among themselves, "Ah! this
time our prisoner will have no opportunity to write his narrative."
And I, on the other hand, kept repeating to myself, "This time I shall
effect my escape, even better than the last: they trust in their
gaolers, and in their doors of iron; and I in that invisible hand which
throws open the doors, and lays the gaolers asleep."
They had apparently as much reason and probability on their side as I
had on mine. Their prognostications, however, completely failed, while
mine were realized; a proof, at any rate, of the superior value of my
principle, compared with their own. How often may they not have been
tormented with the thought that I might possibly effect my escape! And
all the while I had no intention of the kind. I shall show, hereafter,
how many offers of assistance were made, both to myself and to my
friends, in case of my attempting flight, which they, as well as
myself, had the resolution to refuse. In short, the Inquisitors were
miserable, lest they should fail in their promise to retain me in their
custody whenever they caught me again. Why should not I observe mine
towards them? Since our first contest is decided, the performance of it
naturally follows.
But ought this to be my sole motive why I should give an account of my
imprisonment? No, indeed, there are others of a better and a higher
nature; and the principal one of all arises from the reverence I feel
for the truth, to my devotion for which my imprisonment bears testimony.
The Church of Rome, which has become the church of Satan,[1]
incessantly boasts itself as the sole Church of Christ, under the
title of Catholic and Apostolic; and, according to its old practice of
lying, it has endeavoured to persuade the world that we, the people
of Rome, are so penetrated with its doctrines, and so attached to its
rites, that the denomination "Roman" may be considered synonymous with
that of "Papist." And in order that it may not belie itself, it has
established a sacrilegious tribunal, wherein the Romans are taught
that neither human reason nor divine authority ought to stand in their
way of promoting its views; and that, if they are but faithful to the
system it has framed, all imaginable sins will be pardoned them; nor
will the means of leading a life of pleasure be withheld;--but, on the
contrary, if they express an opinion adverse to this priestly sect,
every species of malediction will be showered upon their heads; they
will be imprisoned, persecuted, and even put to death; their families
consigned to want or exile, and their very names loaded with infamy and
held in execration.
An actual hell seems indeed to be at the command of this Church, and
it may be known by the name of the Inquisition.
What direful evils have not been reported respecting this institution!
and few indeed of them have been overcharged. I do not intend here to
repeat concerning it what may be found in various historical relations.
The "History of the Spanish Inquisition," by Llorente, and the
"Mysteries of the Inquisition," by Fareal, afford abundant information
on the subject. But, without consulting history, so universal is
the present detestation of the Inquisition, that its name alone is
sufficient to excite in the minds of all rational beings a sentiment of
horror and repugnance, little inferior to what Christians experience
with respect to hell itself; with this difference--that with the idea
of hell, however terrible, is associated that of eternal justice, which
punishes only sin; while the Inquisition, based on extreme wickedness,
strives to persecute virtue and to punish good actions. No one
complains of the existence of hell; not even the unhappy wretches who
are confined there can impugn the justice of the eternal Legislator;
but every voice is lifted up against the Inquisition, and every
unfortunate being who may be thrown into its dungeons will raise his
cry against so detestable a tribunal. Let us suppose a soul released
from the horrors of hell; such a one would doubtless abundantly praise
the Divine mercy; but should any one be freed from the Inquisition,
even on the score of mercy, still he would complain of the injustice
that had confined him there, though it were for a short time only, and
would detest it ever after accordingly.
The Inquisition is truly a hell invented by priests. To unmask and
to destroy their infernal work is, therefore, the main object I have
before me, in writing this account of my imprisonment.
It has of late years been pretty generally believed that the
Inquisition at Rome--thanks to the civilization of the age--had been
altogether abolished, or at any rate so greatly deprived of power as
to be merely employed in settling points of controversy, censuring
books, or granting dispensations: very few had any idea that it still
exercised in the present day the power of imprisoning those among the
Italians who, although they believed in the Bible, had no faith in the
Council of Trent. Who would then ever have credited that under the
pontificate of Pope Pius IX. and the constitution he had granted, there
would have been found any vestige of it remaining? For my own part, I
can truly aver, that having been absent seven years from Rome, I could
not have believed it possible. How could the Chamber of Deputies and
the Inquisition be compatible with each other? A Chamber of Priests
alone could be expected to support so execrable a tribunal.
Impressed with this idea, it was about the beginning of last year that
I left London for Rome. I well knew that the Inquisition had existed in
full vigour during the whole period of the pontificate of Pope Gregory;
but I naturally thought it was extinct under Pius IX. Indeed I felt
quite persuaded that the Inquisitors, not only in Rome, but throughout
the whole of the Papal States, had no longer any opportunity for the
exercise of their abilities; that the localities of the Holy Office,
throughout all the States of Rome, were converted to other uses; that
all its prisons were thrown open; that the immense host of secretaries,
officers, clerks, familiars, of every description, who were its spies
and agents, were altogether dismissed, and that its very name would no
longer be known in Rome.
On the 5th of February, 1849, the Constituent Assembly met at Rome;
on the evening of the 8th, it was solemnly decreed that the temporal
power of the Pope should cease, in consequence of his flight from
the city, and his desertion of his subjects; and the new Government
assumed the title of the Roman Republic. The day following, this
decree was proclaimed from the Campidoglio, and in a moment the aspect
of all things was changed. The Rome of the popes became the Rome of
the people. The papal arms were torn down, ecclesiastical rights and
privileges abolished, onerous taxes done away with--everything was
altered. To the priests, no other possession remained than the Church;
and even of this the property was vested in the popular authorities.
A fortnight after the new Government had been in power, it was arranged
that the deputies, the triumvirate, the military, and the people,
should assemble together, on the Sunday, in the Church of St. Peter,
to offer up their solemn thanksgiving in a "_Te Deum_." I was myself
present on the occasion, accompanied by some friends; and we all of
us, from our hearts, offered up our thanks to the Lord, for having
delivered our country from the heavy yoke of the pontifical government;
and to my thanksgiving I added a prayer for the overthrow of the popish
religion--the most pernicious and corrupt system of moral slavery that
has ever been invented by the ingenuity of man.
"Oh!" I exclaimed, "let us pray that the infamous government, which,
for worldly ends, has violated everything that is most sacred--our
religion--may never more be re-established. Let us supplicate that the
idolatry of popery may be abolished, and that, from the present period,
the worship of statues and pictures, expressly forbidden by God in the
second commandment of the Decalogue, may be discontinued, throughout
the whole world. Let us pray that the 'mystery of abomination' may at
length be taken away, and that to all the people may be discovered
and made known 'the man of sin,' the son of perdition, the adversary;
he who exalts himself above every one, and is called a divinity or
god, who sits in the temple of God, as God, showing himself to all,
and asserting that he is God. Let us pray that the holy name of Jesus
Christ may be no longer profaned and blasphemed by a class of people
who have unworthily usurped it, and, as it were, solely to abuse it.
And let us pray that the holy Word, the Gospel of the Redeemer, be no
longer persecuted in Rome, and incarcerated in the Inquisition."
At these words my companions started. "Is it true then," said one of
them, "that the Bible itself is persecuted by the Church of Rome, and
that the followers of the sacred Evangelists are incarcerated in the
Inquisition?"--"By the way," exclaimed another, "can you tell me what
has become of the Inquisition? Is it shut up?" "I imagine so," observed
a third. "I should like to ascertain the fact," was the remark of the
fourth. "Let us go to it," was the general cry; "let us go and see
whether it be shut or open, and let us endeavour to penetrate into its
recesses."
The service being concluded, every one hastened to leave the church.
We directed our steps towards the far-famed Holy Office, which is to
the left of St. Peter's, behind the colonnade. It was built by Pius
V. about the middle of the sixteenth century, on account of the old
building in the Via di Ripetta having been destroyed by fire, by the
Romans, after the death of Paul IV. We had no difficulty in entering;
there were no guards to prevent us; and we saw no one in our way. All
was silent, but nothing was in disorder. "Oh! there is nobody here,"
said one. "And yet," observed another, "the place does not appear to be
abandoned. Let us knock at the door." "But, unquestionably," was the
remark of all of us, "there can be no one there. Not the Inquisitors
themselves would have the hardihood to attempt to carry on their
proceedings under the present Government. A Republic and an Inquisition
would indeed form a curious anomaly!"
We had not yet finished our disquisition on the absurdity and even the
impossibility of such a coalition, when, aroused it should seem by
the noise made by our party, a Dominican friar made his appearance at
one of the doors. His countenance expressed doubt and apprehension,
and his step was uncertain. He cast his eyes around, and as he saw
that we were, for the most part, young men, he appeared greatly to
doubt our prudence and moderation. Who knows what his sensations were
at first seeing us! With a faint voice he asked what we wanted; and
understanding that we were desirous to inspect the place, and more
especially to visit the prisons of the Inquisition, he hesitated, drew
back a few paces, and excused himself, saying that he had not the power
to conduct us about, as he was only there with his superior. In fact,
he was a lay-brother, and servant to the most reverend father, the
Commissioner General of the Inquisition.
I knew this friar very well, but he was not aware of my presence, as I
did not at first address myself to him.
"_Frate mio_," said I to him, "I do not wonder that you are afraid
of us, since every thing must be an occasion of dread to those whose
lives have been an incessant source of reproach to them. Nevertheless,
I own I am surprised that up to the present hour, when the Government
and the people have sung the _Te Deum_ for the Roman Republic, you and
your superior, with as many as surround him, should have the assurance
to show yourselves in this place, if not to continue your former evil
practices, at least to testify your readiness to do so. And tell me,
my dear Dominican, for by this time you have sufficiently recognised
me, do you not think I deserve to be called your friend, if I save you
from the outrage to which you have rendered yourself liable this day?
Neither I nor anybody else could answer for your life, if it were known
that, through your means, the Inquisition still existed in Rome. Tell
me without hesitation, who and how many are here."
"All," replied he, "are here at present who were here originally. There
are the same number of officials, and they occupy their usual quarters.
The head commissioner is in yonder apartment, with his whole suite, and
at this very moment they are at table."
"Pray," demanded I, "are his companions with him?"
"One is there; the other is away."
"Are the keepers of the prison here?"
"Yes, all three."
"Then there are still prisoners?"
At this interrogation the poor Dominican, who, among many bad, might be
termed a good man, made no other reply than shrugging his shoulders,
leaving me to guess his meaning. It was too evident that there were
still prisoners remaining, and that the hateful tribunal still existed
in full power!
My friends insisted on visiting the building: I dissuaded them,
however, from attempting it, assuring them that no one of its inmates
would open the doors to us, without our using a degree of violence
which would be highly unbecoming. The monk had already left us, and
we descended the stairs we had previously mounted. The great gateway
of entrance was no longer unoccupied: the porter was there with some
other persons; among them I recognised one of the gaolers, whom I well
remembered, as he was the same that kept me in custody, in the year
1842. Two others also I knew, who were spies of the Inquisition. The
gaoler was courteous enough in his way.
"Good day, Signor, how fares it with you?"
"And how fares it with you?" I returned. "Are you still gaolers of the
Inquisition? Have they not yet dismissed you?"
"No, we have not been dismissed, we are still in the exercise of our
functions; we are all paid as usual, and as long as that is the case,
you know, we are bound to continue our service."
"It is an evil employment: how is it that you are not ashamed to be
found in it? Besides, it is a dangerous one now. The very name of
the Inquisition is sufficient to compromise any one, at the present
juncture. Take my advice, my friend, and before you are turned out
by force, depart of your own accord. Should the people be given to
understand that the Inquisition still continues, that all its officials
are still in this place, judges, commissioners, clerks, keepers,
spies, and consequently dungeons and prisoners, I assure you, the
building would soon be set fire to, and those consumed who belong to
it."
I have entered into this minute detail, to show that the Inquisition,
as it existed in former times, still continued under Pius IX.; and that
when he took flight with his cardinals, he left it on the same footing
as usual. Indeed, I am not wrong in asserting that Pius IX. and the
cardinals gave strict orders that no one belonging to the Inquisition
should quit his post on pain of certain expulsion. A further proof
of this is, that after our visit to the Inquisition all the inmates
remained at their post, until the Triumvirate sent to turn them out by
force, and took possession of the place with all that it contained.
It is a fact, then, that Popery is always the same; barbarous, as
in the middle ages, in which it took its rise; ferocious, as in the
time of Gregory VII.; increasing in cruelty more and more, as under
Innocent III., Boniface VIII., Paul IV., Pius V.; and stolid, as since
the restoration in 1815: always seeking to connect itself with kings,
and to model its cabinet on the plan of that of Austria and of Russia.
Popery always has the same spirit, and the same laws; though, with
respect to its habits and temper, it not unfrequently wears a mask.
Thus, Pius IX. put on the show of liberality; but this pope, believed
so liberal by many, was always secretly combined with the Jesuits and
the Inquisition.
It is, therefore, to unmask and to expose Popery, as it is at the
present day, that I undertake the writing of this work; that the world
may know that in Rome, and in the Roman States, excepting during the
five months of the Republic, the infamous and hateful Inquisition has
always been in existence. The fact is, that Christianity suffers more
now than in former times, under this harsh slavery. Religion, being an
affair between God and man, cannot be bound, limited, or prescribed, by
human laws; she must be free as thought itself. To this conclusion the
civilization of the present day has arrived; and all sound philosophy
teaches, that what we wish for ourselves, we ought to allow to others.
In matters of religion, every one desires the enjoyment of the most
complete liberty. None are more tenacious on this point than the
priests of Rome themselves: they complained bitterly when the Turkish
Government, and that of the Czar, forbade them the performance of
their rites, or the attempt to gain a proselyte. Do not they desire
their liberty most ardently, in all those countries where the Greek
Church is predominant? What would they not say to the Genevese if they
attempted, in their own city of Geneva, to subject the papist to any
privation or restraint? All the world knows how they swarmed to the
British parliament, to obtain the famous emancipation. And even that
was not enough for them: how incessantly have they not since presented
themselves before it, with fresh demands and renewed audacity? The
papists, throughout the whole of England and Scotland, desire to
possess the liberty to talk, to write, to preach, and to assemble
themselves together. In every quarter they desire to build churches;
and found colleges, schools, and houses, for the seclusion of men and
of women. In this country are to be found priests of various orders;
and numerous companies of Jesuits have established themselves in
different parts of the British dominions, whence they send forth their
missionaries to every part of the habitable globe. All these desire to
possess the most unrestrained liberty. And I by no means blame either
those who seek or those who grant it.
I maintain, however, that these very priests, who, in other countries,
seek not only to be in entire freedom themselves, but even to rule
arbitrarily over others, refuse, in their own, to grant the least
liberty of thought to any one whosoever. The Roman clergy insist
on their right to speak and to act in England, in Scotland, and in
Ireland, in the same manner as they do in Rome; but they do not allow
either the English, the Scotch, or the Irish, to act as they please in
the Papal States. It is known to every one how many new churches the
Roman Catholic priests have built in various places in this island, in
addition to those they already possessed; but to the English, on the
other hand, in Rome, not even a single church is allowed; and it was
made a great favour that they were permitted to assemble for Divine
worship in a humble building beyond the gate of the Piazza del Popolo,
outside of the walls of the city.
So habituated are the Roman Catholic clergy to act in this manner, that
the complaints and remonstrances of the whole world have no influence
whatever upon them, either in changing their conduct, or in rendering
them ashamed of it. So many years have they practised their iniquity,
that they have lost the power of blushing; and such is the evil
consequence of their habits, that they no longer feel the least pang
of conscience, either at the continual neglect of their own duties, or
their perpetual invasion of the rights of others.
Viewing things in this light, no one, I may venture to hope, will
blame me, if I speak out boldly of many things which have lately taken
place. Doubtless I shall incur the severe censure of the Papal Court,
which will rise up against me, and loudly pour forth its heaviest
maledictions. Truly, instead of the furious outcries in which the
partisans of the Pope have hitherto indulged, I would counsel them
to endeavour to answer me in a more worthy manner, and with the same
pacific spirit by which I shall be guided in my writing. As to their
clamour and their upbraidings, nay, even their slanders, they will
excite in me no more fear than my imprisonment occasioned me; neither
will any extent of abuse they may try to cast upon me, remove from
their own heads the disgrace of the accusations I shall bring against
them, and the truth of which I challenge them to disprove. I shall call
things by their proper names, and shall distinguish persons according
to their actual merits, or otherwise; but, that no one may conclude
that I am instigated by a spirit of vindictiveness, or a desire to
injure the reputation of those at present belonging to the Court of
Rome, I shall be careful to speak of individuals as little as possible;
for as no base motive inspires my pen, so I do abhor, above all things,
to defile my paper with unworthy matter.
In treating of any subject of a dishonourable nature, I shall spare the
names of some who may be connected with it, and endeavour to act with
charity towards those who are yet living. Nevertheless, I propose in
these pages to give a warning for the time to come; I shall unfold in
them the iniquity of the present day, in order that they may serve as
a lesson for the future. It will however be necessary, occasionally,
to state openly through whose fault such things as I may relate were
effected. I should be sorry for it to be thought that I undertook
this work to gratify any bad feeling; my sole motive has been to make
the truth evident, that all may apprehend it. It was for hearing and
speaking the truth, that I incurred the hatred of the papal Court. It
was for the truth's sake, that I hesitated at no sacrifice it required
from me; and it is for the truth, and for that alone, that I lay the
present narrative before the public.
It is of little importance what outcry may be raised against me. Abuse
is the only reply that has hitherto been offered me; but I disregard it
and return it not. If any one writes in opposition to me, all that I
ask is a fair opportunity of replying to him; I know my own fallibility
to be great, and I have always hitherto been disposed to acknowledge
an error, when it has been pointed out to me by candour and common
sense. I refer principally to matters of religion. If any one opines
that my language is not consonant with Scripture, I should desire that
I might be called upon to explain it; because as I write to elicit the
truth, whoever corrects in me an error, also promotes the same object.
And this is my rule of conduct with respect to others. The time is now
arrived for the full development of the truth; mankind, wearied of
being so long enchained, by the opinions of others, in the darkness
of error, now make the most strenuous efforts to free themselves from
their mental bonds. It is a struggle between the oppressors and the
oppressed. Those who continue to advocate the right of oppressing,
will be hated by society, as well as those who desire to preserve the
privilege of lying. Falsehood is no longer a venial offence; it is a
serious crime, and when resorted to by persons in authority, it is
always for the purpose of oppression. The motto of the present age is
Liberty and Truth.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] I speak of the Church of the Pope and of the Cardinals, of the
Priests, and of the Jesuits; not of the few true believers to be found
here and there, even in Rome, hidden from the eyes of the world, and
who may truly be called "first-begotten children, whose names are
written in heaven."