FREE-MASONRY.
Few subjects have been so fertile as Free-Masonry in the growth of
legend and myth. If we may believe some of its over-enthusiastic
members, the Archangel Michael was the Grand Master of the earliest
Masonic lodge; the builders of the Tower of Babel were wicked Masons and
those who held aloof from the impious work were Free-Masons. Others
trace its origin to Lamech and others again tell us that the first Grand
Lodge in England was founded by St. Alban in 287. Its adversaries are
equally extravagant; if we may trust them it is the precursor of
Antichrist and a survival of Manicheism; it is supreme in European
cabinets and directs the policy of the civilized world in opposition to
the Church. Every pope in the nineteenth century fulminated his anathema
against it. The Abbé Davin assures us that Jansenism is the masterpiece
of the powers of evil and that it has become, in the form of Masonry,
the most formidable of secret societies, organized for the destruction
of the Christian Monarchy.[611] There are zealous Spanish Masons who
assure us that the Comunidades of Castile and the Germanía of Valencia
were the work of Masons; that Agustin and Pedro Cazalla and the other
victims of the auto of May 21, 1559 were Masons, and that the
unfortunate Don Carlos was a victim to Masonry.[612]
[Sidenote: _PROHIBITED BY ROME_]
Descending to the sobriety of fact, Masonry emerges into the light of
history in 1717, when Dr. Desaguliers, Anthony Sayer, George Payne and a
few others formed, in London, an organization based on toleration,
benevolence and good-fellowship. Its growth was slow and its first
appearance in Spain was in 1726, when the London lodge granted a charter
for one in Gibraltar. Lord Wharton is said to have founded one in
Madrid, in 1727, and soon afterwards another was organized in Cádiz.
These were primarily for the benefit of English residents, although
doubtless natives were eligible to membership. As yet it was not under
the ban of the Church, but its introduction in Tuscany led the
Grand-duke Gian Gastone to prohibit it. His speedy death (July 9, 1737),
caused his edict to be neglected; the clergy represented the matter to
Clement XII, who sent to Florence an inquisitor; he made a number of
arrests, but the parties were set at liberty by the new Grand-duke,
Francis of Lorraine, who declared himself the patron of the Order and
participated in the organization of several lodges.[613] Clement
sustained his inquisitor and issued, April 28, 1738, his bull _In
eminenti_, calling attention to the oath-bound secrecy of the lodges,
which was just cause for suspicion, as their object would not be
concealed if it were not evil, leading to their prohibition in many
states. Wherefore, in view of the grave consequences threatened to
public tranquility and the salvation of souls, he forbade the faithful
to favor them or to join them under pain of _ipso facto_
excommunication, removable only by the Holy See. Prelates, superiors,
Ordinaries and inquisitors were ordered to inquire against and prosecute
all transgressors and to punish them condignly as vehemently suspect of
heresy, for all of which he granted full powers.[614] Thus the only
accusation brought against Masonry was its secrecy, but this sufficed
for the creation of a new heresy, furnishing to the Inquisition a fresh
subject for its activity.
The nature of the condign punishment thus threatened was left to the
discretion of the local tribunals, but a standard was furnished by an
edict of the Cardinal Secretary of State, January 14, 1739, pronouncing
irremissible pain of death, not only on all members but on all who
should tempt others to join the Order, or should rent a house to it or
favor it in any other way. The only victim of this savage decree is said
to have been a Frenchman who wrote a book on Masonry; it is true that,
in this same year, 1739, the Inquisition in Florence tortured a Mason
named Crudeli, and kept him in prison for a considerable time, but the
death-penalty was a matter for the secular authorities and in Florence
these were not under control. Indeed, when the Inquisition offered
pardon for self-denunciation, and a hundred crowns for information, and
made several arrests, the Grand-duke interposed and liberated the
prisoners.[615] Even when the arch-impostor Cagliostro, in 1789,
ventured to found a lodge in Rome and was tried by the Inquisition, the
sentence, rendered April 7, 1791, recited that, although he had incurred
the death-penalty, it was mercifully commuted to imprisonment for
life.[616] He was accordingly imprisoned in the castle of San Leone
where he is supposed to have died in 1795.
The Parlement of Paris refused to register the bull of 1738 and when, in
1750, the jubilee attracted crowds of pilgrims to Rome, so many had to
seek relief from the excommunication incurred under it that Benedict XIV
was led to revive it, May 18, 1751, in his constitution _Providas_,
pointing out moreover the injury to the purity of the faith arising from
the association of men of different beliefs, and invoking the aid of all
Catholic princes to enforce the decrees of the Holy See.[617] When thus,
without provocation, Rome declared war to the knife against the new
organization, it naturally became hostile to Rome, and when its
membership was forbidden to the faithful, it was necessarily confined to
those who were either indifferent or antagonistic to the Roman faith.
[Sidenote: _PERSECUTION_]
While the papal commands were ignored in France, they had been eagerly
welcomed in Spain. The bull _In eminenti_ received the royal exequatur
and the Inquisitor-general Orbe y Larreategui published it in an edict,
October 11, 1738, pointing out that the Inquisition had exclusive
jurisdiction in the matter. He promised to prosecute with the utmost
severity all disobedience to the bull, and called for denunciations,
within six days, of all infractions, under pain of excommunication and
of two hundred ducats. The edict was to be read in the churches and to
be affixed to their portals, thus giving an effective advertisement to
the new institution by conveying a knowledge of its existence to a
population thus far happily ignorant.[618]
The Inquisition, however, was not allowed long to enjoy the exclusive
jurisdiction claimed, for Philip V, in 1740, issued an edict under
which, we are told, a number of Masons were sent to the galleys, while
the Inquisition vindicated its rights by breaking up a lodge in Madrid
and punishing its members.[619] There was thus established a cumulative
jurisdiction which continued, for State autocracy and Church autocracy
were alike jealous of a secret organization of unknown strength which,
in troublous times, might become dangerous. Fernando VI manifested this
by a pragmática of July 2, 1751, in which he forbade the formation of
lodges under pain of the royal indignation and punishment at the royal
discretion; all judges were required to report delinquents, and all
commanders of armies and fleets to dismiss with dishonor any culprits
discovered in the service. That, in spite of these repressive measures,
Free-Masonry was spreading, may be assumed from the publication, about
this time, of two editions of a little book against it, in which this
decree is embodied.[620] Padre Feyjoo assisted in advertising the Order
by devoting to it a letter in which, with gentle satire, he treated it
as a hobgoblin, imposing on public credulity with false pretences,
although there might be evil spirits among the harmless ones.[621]
The Inquisition meanwhile was not idle, though it did not imitate the
severity of the papal government or of the royal edicts. In 1744 the
Madrid tribunal sentenced, to abjuration _de levi_ and banishment from
Spain, Don Francisco Aurion de Roscobel, canon of Quintanar, for
Free-Masonry; in 1756 the same tribunal prescribed reconciliation for
Domingo de Otas and, in 1757, a Frenchman named Tournon escaped with a
year's detention and banishment from Spain, although, by endeavoring to
induce his employees to join the Order, he was reckoned as a
dogmatizer.[622] Another case about the same time reveals a strange
indifference, possibly attributable to hesitation in attacking a
dependent of a powerful minister. A priest named Joachin Pareja
presented himself, April 19, 1746, to the Toledo tribunal and related
that when, in 1742, he accompanied the Infante Phelipe to Italy, he lay
for some months in Antibes, where he made the acquaintance of Antonio de
Rosellon, gentleman of the chamber to the Marquis of la Ensenada, who
talked freely to him about Free-Masonry, of which he was a member. He
had but recently learned that Free-Masons were an infernal sect,
condemned by a papal bull, and he had made haste to denounce Rosellon.
No action was taken for eighteen months when, on October 13, 1747, the
tribunal asked the Madrid inquisitors to examine Rosellon, after
consulting the Suprema. The Suprema promptly scolded it for its
remissness and ordered it to make inquiry of other tribunals; the
customary interrogations were sent around with negative results and, on
January 8, 1748, the fiscal reported accordingly; there was but one
witness and therefore he recommended suspension, which was duly voted.
Some twenty months passed away when suddenly, September 7, 1751, the
Suprema recurred to the matter and wrote to Toledo demanding a report.
Toledo waited for more than a month and then, on October 16th, replied
that it referred the whole affair to the Madrid tribunal as Pareja and
Rosellon were both in that city.[623] This probably ended the case.
[Sidenote: _POLITICAL ACTIVITY_]
Free-Masonry was growing and extending itself throughout influential
circles. In 1760 the _Gran Logia española_ was organized and
independence of London was established; in 1780 this was changed to a
Grand Orient, symbolical Masonry being subordinated to the Scottish
Rite. In this we are told that such men as Aranda, Campomanes,
Rodríguez, Nava del Rio, Salazar y Valle, Jovellanos, the Duke of Alva,
the Marquis of Valdelirias, the Count of Montijo and others were active;
that the ministers of Carlos III were mostly Masons and that to them
was attributable the energetic action against Jesuitism and
Ultramontanism.[624] To what extent this is true, it would be impossible
to speak positively, but unquestionably Masonry afforded a refuge for
the modern spirit in which to develop itself against the oppressive
Obscurantism of the Inquisition.
A disturbing element was furnished by Cagliostro who, in his two visits
to Spain, founded the lodge España, in competition with the Grand
Orient. This attracted the more adventurous spirits and grew to be
revolutionary in character. It was the centre of the foolish republican
conspiracy of 1796, known as the conspiracy of San Blas, from the day
selected for the outbreak. Arms were collected in the lodge, but the
plot was betrayed to the police; three of the leaders were condemned to
death but, at the intercession of the French ambassador, the sentence
was commuted to imprisonment for life. The chiefs were deported to
Laguayra where they captured the sympathies of their guards and were
enabled to escape. In 1797 they organized a fresh conspiracy in
Caraccas, but it was discovered and six of those implicated were
executed.[625]
In the troubled times that followed, the revolutionary section of
Masonry naturally developed, at the expense of the conservative. There
is probably truth in the assertion that the French occupation was
assisted by the organization of the independent lodges under Miguel de
Azanza, one of the ministers of Carlos IV, who was grand master. The
ensuing war was favorable to the growth of the Order. The French armies
sought to establish lodges in order to popularize the "intrusive"
government, while the English forces on their side did the same, and the
Spanish troops were honeycombed with the _trincheras_, or intrenchments,
as these military lodges were called.
With the downfall of Napoleon and liberation of the papacy, Pius VII
made haste to repeat the denunciation of Masonry. He issued, August 15,
1814, a decree against its infernal conventicles, subversive of thrones
and religion. He lamented that, in the disturbances of recent years, the
salutary edicts of his predecessors had been forgotten and that Masonry
had spread everywhere. To their spiritual penalties he added temporal
punishments--sharp corporal affliction, with heavy fines and
confiscation, and he offered rewards for informers. This decree was
approved by Fernando VII and was embodied in an edict of the
Inquisition, January 2, 1815, offering a Term of Grace of fifteen days,
during which penitents would be received and after which the full rigor
of the laws, secular and canonical, would be enforced. Apparently the
result was inconsiderable for, on February 10th, the term was extended
until Pentecost (May 14th) and inviolable secrecy was promised.[626]
Fernando had not waited for this but had already prohibited Masonry
under the penalties attaching to crimes of the first order against the
State and, in pursuance of this, on September 14, 1814, twenty-five
arrests had been made for suspicion of membership.[627]
[Sidenote: _UNDER THE RESTORATION_]
Thus, as before, there was cumulative jurisdiction over Masonry. The
time had passed for competencias between the Inquisition and the royal
courts; it was too closely identified with the State to indulge in
quarrels, but still there was jealous susceptibility and self-assertion.
As early as 1815 this showed itself in the prosecution of Diego
Dilicado, parish priest of San Jorje in Coruña, because he had reported
the existence there of a lodge to the public authorities and not to the
Inquisition.[628] Several cases, in 1817, show that when a culprit was
tried and sentenced by the royal courts, the Inquisition insisted on
superadding a prosecution and punishment of its own. Thus when Jean
Rost, a Frenchman, was sent to the presidio of Ceuta by the chancellery
of Granada, the Seville tribunal also tried him and ordered his
confinement in the prison of the presidio, at the same time demanding
from the chancellery the Masonic title and insignia of the prisoner and
whatever else appertained to the jurisdiction of the Inquisition.[629]
The Madrid tribunal, May 8, 1817, sentenced Albert Leclerc, a Frenchman,
for Free-Masonry; he had already been tried and convicted by the royal
court and a courteous note was addressed, as in other similar cases, to
the Alcalde de Casa y Corte, to have him brought to the secret prison,
for the performance of spiritual exercises under a confessor
commissioned to instruct him in the errors of Masonry, and to absolve
him from the censures incurred, after which he would be returned to the
alcalde for the execution of his sentence of banishment. So, in July
1817, the Santiago tribunal collected evidence against Manuel Llorente,
sergeant of Grenadiers, and the Suprema directed that, as soon as the
secular trial was finished, he was to be imprisoned again and tried by
the tribunal.[630]
For this punctiliousness there was the excuse that the papal decrees
rendered Masonry an ecclesiastical crime involving excommunication, of
which the temporal courts could take no cognizance. This duplication of
punishment may possibly explain the extreme variation in the severity of
the penalties inflicted. In 1818 the Madrid tribunal sentenced Antonio
Catalá, captain in the volunteer regiment of Barbastro, to a very
moderate punishment, alleging as a reason his prolonged imprisonment and
ill-health. The Suprema sent back the sentence for revision, when the
abjuration was changed from _de levi_ to _de vehementi_. Then the
Suprema took the matter into its own hands and condemned him to be
reduced to the ranks for four years' service in the regiment of Ceuta,
which was nearly equivalent to four years of presidio. On the other
hand, in 1819, the sentence was confirmed of Martin de Bernardo, which
was merely to abjuration _de levi_, absolution ad cautelam, a month's
reclusion and spiritual penances. Greater severity might surely have
been shown in the case of the priest, Vicente Perdiguera, commissioner
of the Toledo tribunal, when, in 1817, the Madrid tribunal suggested
that, in view of his notorious Free-Masonry and irregular conduct, he
should be deprived of his office and insignia and of the fuero of the
Inquisition. To this the Suprema assented and with this he escaped.[631]
It casts doubt upon the reported extent of Free-Masonry that, in spite
of the vigilance of the Inquisition, the number of cases was so small.
From 1780 to 1815 they amount in all only to nineteen. Then, in 1816,
there is a sudden increase to twenty-five; in 1817 there are fourteen,
in 1818 nine and in 1819 seven.[632] Possibly there may have been
others tried by the civil or military courts, which escaped
inquisitorial action, but, in view of its jealous care of its
jurisdiction, these cannot have been numerous.
Yet all authorities of the period agree that, under the Restoration,
Masonry flourished and spread, especially in the army; that it was the
efficient source of the many plots which disturbed Fernando's
equanimity, and that the revolution of 1820 was its work, backed by the
widespread popular discontent aroused by the oppression and inefficiency
of his rule. When, in January, 1820, the movement was started by the
troops destined for America, in their cantonments near Cádiz, there was
a lodge in every regiment. Riego, who led the revolt, was a Mason, and
so was the Count of la Bisbal who ensured its success when, at Ocaña,
whither he had been sent to command the troops gathered for its
suppression, he caused them to proclaim the Constitution. At Santiago,
the first act of the revolutionaries was to sack the Inquisition and to
liberate the Count of Montijo, grand master of the Masonic
organizations, who lay in the secret prison.[633]
We shall have occasion hereafter to see the ruinous part played by
Free-Masonry, and its offshoot the Comuneros, during the brief
constitutional epoch from 1820 to 1823. With the restoration of
absolutism the Comuneros disappeared and Masons became the object of
persecution far severer than that of the Inquisition. They were
subjected to the military commissions set up everywhere throughout
Spain, and those who would not come forward and denounce themselves were
declared, by an order of October 9, 1824, to be punishable with death
and confiscation.[634]