MISCELLANEOUS BUSINESS.
In the undefined and widely extending jurisdiction of the Inquisition
there were a number of matters, more or less connected with the faith,
of which it assumed cognizance. Their cursory consideration is
indispensable and they can more conveniently be grouped together.
MARRIAGE IN ORDERS.
The celibacy enjoined on the Catholic clergy includes the seculars, from
the subdiaconate upwards, and the regulars who are bound by the three
vows of chastity, poverty and obedience. Even degradation from orders
does not remove the disability, as the indelible _character_ impressed
in ordination remains.[708] Strict as has been the enforcement of the
canons, since the twelfth century, the weakness of the flesh has, at all
times, led to occasional infractions of the rule, punishable with
degradation, reclusion in a monastery and other penalties. Whether the
offence was justiciable by the Inquisition was, in the earlier period,
the subject of debate, some authors holding that, if the marriage was
public, it implied heretical error, bringing it under inquisitorial
jurisdiction, but that, if it was secret, this showed that there was no
intellectual misbelief, making the offender guilty only of violating the
law and subjecting him, if secular, to the spiritual courts, and if
regular, to the prelates of his Order.[709]
[Sidenote: _MARRIAGE IN ORDERS_]
The Reformation, which sanctioned clerical marriage, introduced a new
and controlling factor that in time altered the situation. Yet, for a
considerable period there was a powerful movement, especially among
German Catholics, to relax the prohibition in the hope of effecting a
reunion. The question was regarded as open for discussion, as a matter
merely of discipline; Arnaldo Albertino argues that the pope can
dispense for marriage in orders, and instances the dispensation granted
by Alexander VI to his son Cæsar Borgia, then a cardinal-deacon, to
marry the heiress of Valentinois.[710] The reactionary influences which
controlled the Council of Trent changed all this when, in 1563, it made
clerical celibacy a matter of faith, rendering priestly marriage
unquestionably thenceforth heretical.[711]
The Inquisition, however, did not wait for this to assume jurisdiction,
though it seems not to have acted until after the outbreak of the
Reformation had rendered clerical celibacy a subject of discussion. The
earliest case that I have met is that of Miguel Gómez, a priest of
Saragossa, sentenced, for marrying in orders, by the Toledo tribunal in
1529, when the peculiar punishment would seem to show that it was a
novelty for which no precedent existed. He was exhibited for three days
on a ladder at the portal of the cathedral, in his shirt and drawers,
with his hands tied, his feet chained and a mitre on his head, after
which he was deprived for life of sacerdotal functions and banished
forever from the province. Toledo had no other case until 1562, when it
had to deal with the somewhat complicated offence of Fray Juan Ramírez,
who entered a religious order while married, but twice left it and
returned again, during which performances he married two wives.[712]
That jurisdiction depended wholly on the sacrament is seen in the case
of Juan Carrillo, alias Fray Juan Ortiz, a Franciscan denounced, in
1596, to the Toledo tribunal by his prelate, Fray Juan de Ovando, for
apostasy and living with a woman reputed to be his wife. Investigation
showed that she was merely his concubine, so the case was suspended, and
he was remanded to Ovando to be dealt with under the rules of the
Order.[713]
[Sidenote: _PERSONATION OF PRIESTHOOD_]
After the offence had clearly been made heresy by the Council of Trent,
the terrifying formula of accusation by the fiscal describes the
offender as unworthy of mercy, to be deprived of all ecclesiastical
privilege, to be degraded from his orders and to be relaxed to the
secular arm, to which was added the _otrosi_ demanding the free use of
torture.[714] In practice, however, there was the widest discretion. It
is true that writers speak of appearance in public auto or degradation
and reclusion in a monastery for a few years, or a similar term of
galley service, but there seems to have been no rule.[715] Indeed, it is
not easy to understand how an offence so uniform in its nature should
have been visited with penalties so diverse. In 1597, Francisco Agustin,
an Augustinian of Barcelona, married in Toledo, sought to defend himself
on the plea that he had entered the Order under compulsion in order to
escape his debts; his sentence was appearance in an auto, abjuration _de
levi_ and imprisonment for life in the convent where he had made
profession.[716] In 1629, Fray Lorenzo de Avalle, a Benedictine priest,
accused himself to the Valladolid tribunal of having married and lived
for eight years as a musician in Aragon. Notwithstanding his
self-denunciation, he was sentenced to verbal degradation and to four
years' detention in a monastery, where he was to undergo a circular
discipline, while the woman was notified that she was free to marry
again.[717] In strong contrast with this was the case of Juan Alonso
Palacios, a married Jesuit, before the Toledo tribunal in 1659, who,
though not an _esponianeado_, escaped with a reprimand and four years of
reclusion. Then, in 1664, Fray Juan de Ayala, a Mercenarian priest, was,
by the same tribunal, suspended perpetually from his functions and
recluded for three years in a convent with one year's Friday fasting and
some spiritual penance. Again, in 1675, the same tribunal condemned
Gerónimo de Morales, a married subdeacon, to five years in the galleys,
three more of exile and disqualification for orders.[718] Five years of
galleys, with three more of exile and deprivation of functions and
benefices, was the portion of Don Cristóval de Zabiati, alias Don Juan
Baptista de Verganza, priest of Talavera de la Reina, who appeared in
the great Madrid auto of 1680.[719] In 1700 the Toledo tribunal had to
deal with a case characterized as "con circonstancias gravísimas," so
that we may regard the sentence as representing the extremity of
punishment for the offence. The culprit was not required to appear in an
auto, but his sentence was read in the audience-chamber, in the presence
of twenty-four ecclesiastics. It prescribed abjuration _de levi_,
perpetual deprivation of functions, perpetual confinement in a convent
cell, to be left only for choir and refectory, in which he was to have
the last place, to fasting for four years, on bread and water on Fridays
and vigils, and to a circular discipline when taken to the convent. The
details of his career are not given, but there is a suggestion of
material for a picaresque novel, as the culprit was a Dominican, Fray
Tomas Juster, who had been a calificador of the Inquisition and a
preacher of the king, and who enjoyed the multifarious aliases of Don
Juan de San Feliú Cisneros, Don Vicente de Ochaita and Don Juan de
Ibarrola.[720] It is somewhat remarkable that degradation appears so
rarely to be resorted to.
The offence seems to have been by no means frequent. In the Toledo
reports from 1575 to 1610, there are only the two cases referred to
above, and, in the record of the same tribunal from 1648 to 1794 the
number is only ten. From 1780 to 1820 the combined records of all the
tribunals show only six cases.[721]
PERSONATION OF PRIESTHOOD.
The veneration with which the sacraments are regarded, and the supreme
importance ascribed to them as a means of salvation, render it
indispensable that they should be guarded with the utmost solicitude.
Not only is their validity essential to those who seek them, but any
fraud in their dispensation is sacrilege, which, in the case of the
mass, may plunge all worshippers present into the sin of idolatry. With
the exception of baptism, they can be administered only by those in full
priest's orders, and the pretence to do so by men unqualified is a
wrong, not only to the faithful who are deceived, but to the Creator
who has established them for the solace and salvation of His
creatures.[722]
The fees attaching to the confection and bestowal of the sacraments are
a valuable privilege of the priesthood, and the temptation was great for
graceless laymen or clerics in the lower orders to simulate the
possession of the requisite faculties, and to betray the unsuspecting
into accepting from their hands the worthless simulacra. In the venality
of the fourteenth century this would seem not to have been regarded as
an especially grave offence for, in the tax-roll of Benedict XII, the
official fee for absolution for pretending to be a priest, hearing
confessions and granting absolution, is only six _grossi_ or about
three-quarters of a florin.[723] After the outbreak of the Reformation
it was regarded as a more serious matter. Paul IV, in briefs of May 20,
1557, and February 17, 1559, defined the offence as subject to the
Inquisition, and to be punished by relaxation, even when there was not
relapse.[724] Sixtus V felt compelled to reissue the brief of Paul, and
Clement VIII, in 1601, confirmed the acts of his predecessors,
authorizing prosecution by either the Inquisition or the episcopal
Ordinary. This was applicable only to culprits who had reached the age
of 25, but Urban VIII, in 1627, reduced the limit to 20.[725]
[Sidenote: _PERSONATION OF PRIESTHOOD_]
This repetition of legislation shows the stubbornness of the evil and
the papal determination to suppress it. Even complicity was sternly
punished for, in 1619, a layman assisting a celebrant, whom he knew to
be unqualified, was tortured for intention, made to abjure _de
vehementi_, to serve five years in the galleys, and was perpetually
suspended from assisting at mass.[726] Cardinal Scaglia, however, states
that when the offence was committed through thoughtlessness, relaxation
was commuted to ten years of galleys,[727] but there was no hesitation
in inflicting the full penalty in appropriate cases. As late as July 18,
1711, Domenico Spallacino, a hardened offender, who had lived for five
years by celebrating mass in Rome, Loreto and other places, was relaxed
and condemned to be hanged and burned; he was duly hanged in the Piazza
di Campo de'Fiori, the body was fastened to an iron stake on a pile of
wood and was reduced to ashes, which were gathered up and buried.[728]
In Spain the matter was treated less seriously. The Inquisition at first
did not regard itself as having jurisdiction unless there were misbelief
as to the sacraments. A carta acordada of January 31, 1533, instructs
the tribunals that, in these cases, the culprit is to be asked whether
he thought himself possessed of the power, or whether he had anywhere
heard it so asserted as an opinion, and what was his intention; if he
acknowledges no erroneous belief, the matter does not concern the
Inquisition and, he is to be handed over to the magistrate. The briefs
of Paul IV were not admitted in Spain, and the matter slumbered until
1574 when, on January 13th, the Suprema addressed to the tribunals a
circular inquiry, asking whether there had been any prosecutions for
this offence; if so, on what grounds was the jurisdiction based, what
form of procedure was followed, and what penalty was inflicted; also
opinions were asked as to how such cases should be treated.[729]
Evidently no attention had as yet been paid to the question; the replies
showed that there was no general policy, and a brief of August 17th, of
the same year, was obtained from Gregory XIII reciting that in Spain
there were conflicting opinions whether the Inquisition had or had not
jurisdiction, wherefore he granted to it exclusive cognizance, and
forbade the episcopal courts from entertaining such cases.[730] This the
Suprema sent, November 26th, to all the tribunals with orders to
prosecute in such cases, and to introduce a corresponding clause in the
Edict of Faith.[731]
It is evident that the Spanish Inquisition did not share the horror felt
in Rome for such offences, and this is manifested in the comparative
moderation of the penalties inflicted. About 1650, a Spaniard in Rome,
writing to a friend at home, and comparing the severity of the Italian
Inquisition with the mildness of the Spanish, instances the Roman
torture of bigamists and soliciting confessors, the longer terms of
galleys for the former, and the implacable relaxation of those who
celebrate mass without ordination.[732] There was no such ferocity in
Spain. No time had been lost in assuming the jurisdiction and already,
in 1575, there was a culprit in a Toledo auto--Fray Alonso García, a
Franciscan--who had celebrated mass and heard confessions, and whose
sentence was merely abjuration _de levi_ and four years' galley service.
The most complete discretion was exercised and the penalties varied in
the same tribunal according to the circumstances of the case and the
temper of the inquisitors. Thus in Toledo, in 1578, Pero Joan Queito, a
student, who carried forged certificates and had confessed many persons,
absolving them and imposing penance, appeared in an auto, with halter
and candle, abjured _de levi_, and had two hundred lashes and three
years of galleys. In the same year a Frenchman named Pierre Saletas,
accused of having for twenty years heard confessions and celebrated mass
on forged certificates, was tortured without confessing and was banished
the kingdom for four years and forbidden to administer sacraments
without genuine certificates. In 1600, Balthasar Rodríguez, a deacon,
appeared in an auto, abjured _de levi_, was suspended for ten years from
the exercise of his orders, with perpetual disability for promotion, and
had six years of galleys. In the same year the Mercenarian, Fray
Gregorio de Palacios, was spared appearance in an auto, but abjured _de
levi_, had fifty lashes and was recluded for three years in a monastery
of his Order.[733] In 1622, at Valladolid, the Franciscan deacon, Fray
Juan Tapia, for celebrating mass, was merely ordered to keep his convent
as a prison and to present himself when summoned. Somewhat greater
severity was shown to Fray Antonio Frechado, a Trinitarian subdeacon,
who for publicly hearing confessions was required to abjure _de levi_,
was suspended from his functions for two years, during which he was
recluded in his convent, was disabled for promotion and had some
spiritual penance.[734]
[Sidenote: _PERSONATION OF PRIESTHOOD_]
It would be useless to multiply examples of this diversified moderation.
I have met with but one case in which the papal prescription of
relaxation was obeyed and this occurred in Mexico, in 1606, when
Fernando Rodríguez de Castro, a mulatto, was relaxed for administering
sacraments without ordination, but this was no precedent for, in the
great auto of 1648, Gaspar de los Reyes was sentenced to two hundred
lashes and the galleys for life and Martin de Villavicencio Salazar to
the same scourging and five years of galleys.[735]
The systematic writers assure us that the papal decrees were not
received in Spain, and that the punishment varied with the nature of the
case, consisting usually of scourging, unless the offender was a fraile,
the galleys, exile, reclusion, degradation, suspension of functions,
etc., varied at the discretion of the tribunal and that, in cases of
minor culpability, it could be commuted for money. Relaxation was kept
in view only for some error in faith persistently held--a purely
academical supposition, although the culprit was exhaustively examined
as to his belief in the necessity of priestly orders to the validity of
sacraments.[736] That ecclesiastics between themselves in reality
attached but little importance to the offence may be inferred from the
case of the Mercenarian Fray Pedro de la Presentacion, who celebrated
mass when only in subdeacon's orders. The Toledo tribunal condemned him,
June 16, 1662, to three years of galleys. The superior of his Order at
once interceded for him and, in September, the Suprema commuted the
penalty to three years' reclusion in a convent, with three years'
subsequent exile from Daimiel, Toledo and Madrid. When only ten months
of the term had expired the Provincial of Castile applied for the
remission of the remainder, but in vain and, when two years had passed
the effort was renewed.[737] Evidently the good frailes recked little of
the idolatry into which he had plunged all who were present at his
ministration.
As the eighteenth century advanced a still more lenient view seems to
have obtained. In 1749 the case of Fray Juan de Santa Rosa, a Franciscan
deacon, was an aggravated one, for he had administered the sacraments of
baptism, the Eucharist, penitence and matrimony, but the Toledo tribunal
only declared him "irregular" for promotion, suspended him from the
diaconate for two years and imposed fifteen days of spiritual penance.
No special expectation of amendment earned this benignity, for his
Provincial was instructed to send him to a convent, from which he was
not to go out alone, so as not to expose him to relapse.[738]
Under the Restoration there was leniency difficult to understand. The
sentence of the Dominican Fray Tomas García by the Cuenca tribunal,
November 14, 1816, for celebrating mass without priests' orders, was
that the commissioner of Villaescusa was to reprimand him in presence of
the superior of his convent, pointing out the severe penalties provided
by the papal decrees and prescribing spiritual penances for a year,
besides informing the prelate that he could not ascend to full orders.
This was confirmed by the Suprema, with the addition that he be
transferred to a house of stricter observance. December 11th of the same
year, Angel Sampayo, a married layman of Campo Ramiro (Lugo) was
convicted of celebrating mass. The Suprema alludes to his _atentato
horrible_, but merely orders him to be reprimanded and sent back to his
home, where the parish priest and his father are to keep watch over
him.[739]
* * * * *
In connection with this subject it may be mentioned that the Inquisition
also took cognizance of a class of cases, alluded to above under
Solicitation, in which laymen managed to hear confessions of women, not
with a view to administer the sacrament of penitence, but through
jealousy, or for the opportunity of asking indecent questions, or in the
hope of listening to prurient details. These cases were by no means
infrequent. In 1785, there were three before the tribunal of Valencia;
in 1793, one in Murcia; in 1796, Joseph Herranz was prosecuted in Madrid
for doing this in order to hear his wife's confession. The same year
there was a case in Seville; in 1797, one in Barcelona and, in 1807,
Miguel Domínguez, sacristan of San Miguel de Niebla, pretended to be a
Capuchin with the object to listening to the confession of a woman.[740]
With what severity such cases were treated, I have not been able to
ascertain.
[Sidenote: _PERSONATION OF OFFICIALS_]
PERSONATION OF OFFICIALS.
In the universal dread inspired by the Holy Office, the temptation was
great to personate its agents, and to extort money as the price of
forbearance, for no one ventured to question the authority or acts of
any stranger who presented himself as an official.
The opportunities thus afforded were speedily recognized and utilized.
As early as 1487, at Saragossa, a special auto was held, April 1st, at
which appeared a cleric who had pretended to be an inquisitor and as
such had made an arrest. The penalty inflicted is not recorded, but
evidently the opportunity was taken to make an impressive warning[741].
The systematic writers assume that in these cases there should be
careful consideration of the injury inflicted, for the pretender may
deserve exemplary punishment. The usual offence is asserting that there
are accusations and that he will save the accused from prosecution; for
this he must refund the money received, appear in an auto and suffer two
hundred lashes and five years of galley service. If the imposture is
assumed only to escape from some trouble and causing no damage, there is
some penalty of fine or exile; if there has been only an assertion of
official position, the penalty is very light and secret.[742] Other
authorities tell us that, if the culprit is of a low class, he has two
hundred lashes and four years of galleys, more or less according to the
gravity of the offence; if he is a noble or rich, he is fined one or two
thousand ducats and serves for two or three years, without pay, as a
gentleman in the galleys, or against the Moors or heretics[743].
Evidently in an offence which varied so much in motive and result, much
was necessarily left to the discretion of the tribunal and a few cases
will serve to indicate the different methods of operating and the
deterrent penalties inflicted.
[Sidenote: _PERSONATION OF OFFICIALS_]
In the Seville auto of September 24, 1559, there were three cases of
personation. Alonso de Hontiveros, for pretending to be a familiar and
endeavoring to make arrests for the purpose of extortion, appeared with
halter and gag and was sent to Xeres his place of residence to receive
a hundred lashes; Juan de Aragon, of Málaga, for the same offence, was
spared the gag, but wore a mitre and had a scourging at Málaga and
another where his offence was committed, besides two years of exile,
while his accomplice, Francisco Prieto, received the same sentence, with
the substitution of vergüenza for scourging[744]. On the other hand, at
Toledo, in 1581, Francisco de la Bastida was visited with the utmost
rigor. He represented himself as an alguazil, carrying a _vara de
justicia_ and using the name of the inquisitor-general. He would summon
the alcades and other officials to render assistance, which was freely
given without question; he would make arrests, carry his prisoners to
some distance, take their money, leave them in charge of some local
familiar and disappear. In this way he moved from Fuente de Enzina to
Almaden and Madrid, and thence to Saragossa where he was arrested. He
confessed freely at once and was condemned to relaxation, by virtue of a
special brief obtained from Gregory XIII, but the Suprema, with doubtful
mercy, commuted this to six hundred lashes--two hundred each in Toledo,
Almaden and Fuente de Enzina--and the galleys irremissibly for
life[745]. Zapata relates what is evidently the exploit which brought to
a close the promising career of this enterprising knave. At Almagro, he
says, the agent of the Fuggers of Augsburg was Juan Xelder, a man highly
esteemed and reputed to be of great wealth. Suddenly a stranger
appeared, with the vara of an alguazil of the Inquisition, who sought
out two familiars and commanded them to assist him in making an arrest.
Proceeding to Xelder's house he made the arrest, locked him up in a room
and consoled the frightened family by assuring them of the customary
mercy of the Inquisition. He then summoned a notary and placed all the
property of the prisoner under sequestration, except two thousand ducats
which he said he had orders to take for the expenses of the trial. The
whole town was thrown into commotion, but no one dared to ask for
papers, or authority, or identification. Xelder was placed in a
carriage, with strict orders that no one should exchange a word with
him; the familiars were required to accompany it to the next halting
place, where they and the carriage were dismissed with handsome
gratuities and the stranger confided Xelder to the care of a familiar of
high standing, with orders to guard him carefully, _incomunicado_, while
he would proceed to Toledo and send instructions. Ten days passed when
the familiar, growing tired of the expense, made inquiries and
ascertaining the facts released the prisoner. Meanwhile the impostor,
fearing to carry the gold, deposited it with a banker and took a bill of
exchange on Saragossa, so that he was readily tracked and arrested when
he presented the bill for payment. The secular court claimed him, but
the Inquisition asserted its jurisdiction--fortunately, Zapata says, for
the culprit, for the offence was capital and he escaped with scourging
and the galleys[746].
Another method of speculation on the fears and hopes of the defenceless
appears in the case of Gerónimo Roche, son of the secretary of the
University of Lérida. He pretended to be an official, to have much
influence with the tribunal, and to hold faculties to remit four
sanbenitos and to appoint four familiars. He approached a Morisca who,
with her three daughters, had been reconciled, and offered to relieve
her of her sanbenito for two hundred ducats, and those of her three
daughters if one of them would abandon herself to him. He was forbidden
the house but he persisted in writing letters of mingled threats and
love. For this he appeared in the Saragossa auto of June 6, 1585, where
he was sentenced to vergüenza and eight years in the galleys, being
spared the scourging in consideration of his father[747].
There appears to have been a very lenient view taken, in 1582, by the
Toledo tribunal, of the case of Pedro Moreno, a sacristan, who pretended
to be a familiar and as such visited the hospital and asked the inmates
whether they had confessed, when he arrested and carried off those who
had not. It was in evidence also that, on seeing two men quarrelling in
a church, he arrested one in the name of the Inquisition. There does not
seem to have been a pecuniary motive in these eccentricities, and he
escaped with a reprimand and banishment for a year[748]. Another motive,
which was regarded with a lenient eye, was assuming official position in
order to enjoy the exemptions and privileges of the Inquisition. Thus
when Jayme Corvellana of Barcelona in this manner bluffed off the
officers of justice who came to his house to seize some salt, Inquisitor
Padilla imposed on him a fine of fifty ducats and some spiritual
penance, and was rebuked by the Suprema for inflicting so heavy a
penalty for so trifling a cause--"en causas tan livianas."[749]
Personation was by no means uncommon, but I am convinced that Llorente
is mistaken when he says that there rarely was an auto in which some one
was not punished for this offence. In the Toledo record from 1575 to
1610, the number of cases is only thirteen and, in the same tribunal,
from 1648 to 1794, they amount only to four.[750]
The principal interest in these cases is the evidence which they afford
of the terror inspired by the Inquisition, the very name of which seemed
to paralyze, so that no one, whether magistrate or individual, dared to
question the authority of any impostor who assumed to represent it, and
this same terror doubtless is the reason why this apparently facile
method of trading on popular fear was not more frequently exploited. It
required more than common nerve to incur the risk of inquisitorial
vengeance.
Somewhat akin to this was the levying of blackmail by threats of
denunciation. No doubt there was a good deal of this, in which the
victims prudently suffered in silence, rather than to draw upon
themselves the attention of the dreaded tribunal. It was a matter of
which the Inquisition took cognizance, but the only case which I have
happened to meet is that of Pedro Jacome Pramoseltes, who was sentenced
by the Toledo tribunal, in 1666, to three years of galley-service for
astrology and had his term extended to five for attempts at extortion in
this manner.[751]
DEMONIACAL POSSESSION.
[Sidenote: _DEMONIACAL POSSESSION_]
That evil spirits can take possession of a human being, deprive him of
his free-will and subject him to extreme bodily and mental suffering, is
a belief handed down from ancient times and still largely held as a
matter of faith. That relief can be had by the ministrations of an
exorcist, duly authorized by admission into one of the lower orders of
the priesthood, is a corresponding belief, and formulas without number
have been prepared to enable him to exercise his power over the demon.
There is no heresy involved in either the possession or the exorcism
and, under normal conditions, there was no call for interference by the
Inquisition, but when, for any reason, such interference was desired,
there was little trouble in finding pretext for its jurisdiction. We
have seen (Vol. II, p. 135) the active measures taken, in 1628, with the
nuns of San Placido, whose demoniacally inspired revelations were
somewhat revolutionary. Greater self-denial was exhibited by the
Valladolid tribunal in a contemporaneous case, when a Jesuit confessor
reported to it that Doña Felippa and Doña Aña de Mercado, Bernardino
nuns in Santo Espíritu of Olmeda, made gestures and other irreverent
acts in confession and communion, which caused scandal, and he thought
proceeded from demoniacal possession. The tribunal felt doubts as to its
jurisdiction and consulted the Suprema, which submitted the matter to a
calificador of high attainments. Prolonged investigations were made,
other nuns were examined, and it was in evidence that the two inculpated
were women of exceptional virtue and piety who had prayed to God to test
them with afflictions. The case dragged on for more than ten years,
resulting in the conviction that it was undoubtedly one of possession,
for which the nuns were free from blame, and finally, April 16, 1630,
the Suprema ordered its suspension[752]. Wherever there was the faintest
suspicion of heresy, the Inquisition could assert jurisdiction.
This involved the question of the responsibility of the demoniac for his
utterances, which was somewhat intricate. In the case of one under trial
by the Granada tribunal, in 1650, the learned Jesuit, Padre Diego Tello,
who was called in as a calificador, reported, with an immense array of
authorities, and after three visits to the accused in the secret prison,
that there could be no doubt as to the possession, for he was able to
discuss points of theology and other matters far beyond his capacity; he
could also speak Latin intelligibly and he quoted Scripture while, as he
uttered many heresies, it was evident that the spirit was evil. At the
same time he was rational on so many points that he could not be
regarded as irresponsible for his heresies. Luther and Zwingli, he
added, were notoriously possessed by demons, but they were none the less
held responsible for their teachings and it was the uniform practice of
the Inquisition so to decide in these cases.[753]
In the hysterical epidemics which form so notable a feature of
possession, the Inquisition was apt to be called in and was ready to
act, although it would be difficult to determine on what grounds. In
1638 there was such an epidemic in one of the Pyrenean valleys and, on
September 24th, Jacinto de Robles, secretary of the Governor of Aragon,
reported to the Saragossa tribunal that, on a recent visit to Jaca, he
had found, in the Valle de Tena, that there were about sixty
_endemoniadas_ and that the malady was spreading. It was attributed to
Pedro de Arrecibo and his friend Miguel Guillen, who had been seized by
the secular authorities; Guillen had been executed, while Arrecibo's
trial was nearly concluded. He had confessed that a Frenchman had given
him a paper and some conjurations through which to win women, but it
only rendered them possessed--a statement evidently fabricated to
satisfy his torturers. It was the demons who had accused these two men,
adding that their death would not stay the infection, for there were
other accomplices. The women affected were of the best families, their
ages ranging from 7 to 18--some were pregnant and others were suckling
their infants, for demons were able to produce these results in the
virtuous. The Bishop of Jaca and some Jesuits were exhausting their
exorcisms, and an inquisitor was badly needed. What function was
expected of an inquisitor is not stated, but the Suprema was consulted
and, after some delay it appealed to the king. It was ready to send an
inquisitor and four frailes, but it had no funds for the expenses of the
latter, which would have to be defrayed from some other source. The king
gave orders accordingly, but they were not obeyed, and the last we hear
of the matter is another consulta of March 28, 1640, in which he was
urged to speedy action in view of the great importance of the
affair.[754]
[Sidenote: _DEMONIACAL POSSESSION_]
The intervention of the Inquisition might well be welcomed if it was
always as rational and as effective as in an epidemic of the kind which
troubled Querétaro (Mexico) in 1691. Two young girls who had suffered
themselves to be seduced pretended to be possessed. The Franciscans and
_Padres Apostólicos_ took them in hand, exorcising them at night in the
churches with the most impressive ceremonies, which spread the
contagion, until there were fourteen patients, and the community was
thoroughly excited. It would doubtless have extended much further, but
fortunately the Dominicans, the Jesuits and the Carmelites, jealous of
the rival Orders, pronounced the whole to be an imposture. The two
factions denounced each other from the pulpits, the people took sides,
and passions grew so hot that severe disturbances were impending. Both
factions appealed to the Inquisition, which submitted the matter to
calificadores. These decided that the demoniacal possession was
fraudulent, and that the blasphemies and sacrilegious acts of the
energumens and the violent sermons of the frailes were justiciable by
the Inquisition. With great good sense the tribunal issued a decree,
January 9, 1692, ordering the cessation of all exorcism and of all
discussion, whether in the pulpit or in private. The excitement
forthwith died away and the energumens, left to themselves, for the most
part recovered their senses. Prosecutions were commenced against four of
them and against the Franciscan Fray Mateo de Bonilla, which seem to
have been suspended after a few years. One of the girls, however, who
had caught the infection, had her nervous system too profoundly
impressed for recovery; she continued under the inspection of the
Inquisition, gradually sinking into a condition of confirmed
hypochondria, until we lose sight of her in 1704.[755]
Cases of imposture were not infrequent. Whether this in itself rendered
the impostor liable to prosecution by the Inquisition may be doubted
but, in the deception, she was very apt to commit acts or to utter
blasphemies which brought her under its jurisdiction. Thus, in 1796, we
find the Valencia tribunal prosecuting Benita Gargori, a pretended
demoniac, and Francisca Signes, an accomplice, for irreligious actions
and utterances.[756]
The exorciser also occasionally laid himself open to inquisitorial
animadversion. Thus, in 1749, Fray Jaime Sans, a lay-brother of the
Order of San Francisco de Assis, used to visit the sick and pronounce
them to be possessed, when he would make the sign of the cross and
sprinkle them with holy water. He was denounced to the Barcelona
tribunal, which warned him to desist, for he had no power to exorcise,
and threatened to proceed against him, whereupon he promised to
obey[757]. Exorcists also sometimes abused their opportunities by
committing indecencies upon their patients. I have not met with such
cases in the Spanish Inquisition, but in this it would doubtless follow
the example of the Roman Congregation, which, in 1639, ordered the
prosecution of a most flagrant one, reported by the Inquisitor of
Bergamo[758].
Considered as a whole, the influence of the Inquisition must have been
decidedly beneficial in restraining the development of this disease, for
experienced inquisitors recognized that the methods usually adopted only
aggravated it. Cardinal Scaglia ([dagger symbol] 1639), in treating of these
epidemics among nuns, remarks that the superiors, not content with
exorcisms, commence prosecutions, examine witnesses and interrogate the
pretended criminals suggestively and absurdly and threaten them with
torture, thus extracting whatever confessions they desire and creating
still greater disturbance in the convent and the city[759].
INSULTS TO IMAGES.
Allusion has already been made to the invasion of episcopal jurisdiction
by the assumption of the Inquisition that outrages or insults offered to
sacred images fell under its cognizance. For this there was more
justification than for some other inferential heresies, for wilful
irreverence to the objects of universal cult was reasonably regarded as
causing suspicion of erroneous belief, and during the period of active
persecution of crypto-Judaism and of Protestantism such offences were
readily ascribable to heretical fanaticism.
[Sidenote: _INSULTS TO IMAGES_]
In one instance, at least, the secular magistrates exercised
jurisdiction. In December, 1643, Madrid was much excited by a robbery
committed on a miracle-working image of Nuestra Señora de la Gracia,
when all its jewels, ornaments and vestments were taken, and worst of
all, the image was left lying face downwards on the ground. Great
efforts were made to detect the perpetrators of the sacrilege, and it
was accounted miraculous when they were identified while investigating
another robbery. They must have been tried by the criminal judges, for
no mention is made of the Inquisition and all three were hanged in
March, 1644, in presence of an immense crowd[760].
This was exceptional, and the jurisdiction of the Inquisition was
generally admitted. We are told, by a writer of the period, that, when
images of the saints are outraged by word or act, if the accused belongs
to a nation infected with iconoclastic heresy, and the evidence is
sufficient and he denies intention, he must be tortured. Overcoming the
torture, without having sufficiently purged the evidence, he can be
sentenced to an extraordinary penalty and to abjuration, either _de
levi_ or _de vehementi_: if he confesses both fact and intention and
begs for mercy, he is to be reconciled, but if pertinacious he must be
relaxed[761]. This however applies to cases of absolute heretics, in
which the sacrilege was apt to be merely an aggravating incident, while
the great majority of cases consisted of more or less reckless
Catholics, whose punishment varied with the circumstances and was rarely
vindictive. In the Toledo tribunal, from 1575 to 1610, there were but
four cases, which illustrate the general principles of treatment and the
extreme susceptibility felt with regard to any irreverence towards
sacred objects. The first of these occurs in 1579, when Francisco del
Espinar, a boy of 13, was tried for pulling up a way-side cross, playing
with it until he broke it and cast the fragments into a vineyard, and
then alleging that it was no sin because the cross was not a blessed
one. He confessed freely and pleaded that it was not through
irreverence, because he was drunk, but he was punished with sixty lashes
and two years of exile. The second was in 1595, when Fernando Rodríguez
was accused by three witnesses of throwing a stick at a paper image of
the Virgin on an altar, tearing it and uttering a filthy jest, but he
proved an alibi and the case was suspended. The next was in 1600, when
Anton Ruiznieto was punished with abjuration de levi and three years'
exile, for maltreating a crucifix and using offensive words to it. The
fourth, in 1606, illustrates the circumspection requisite to avoid even
the appearance of irreverence, and the danger of denunciation which
constantly impended over every one. Isabel de Espinosa was denounced by
three witnesses because she had placed on a close-stool, which she kept
in her living-room, a painted board on which were representations of
Christ and some saints. A neighbor removed it and she replaced it, when
the neighbor spoke to her and she changed its place. She was brought
from Ocaña to Toledo and a house was assigned to her as a prison. In
defence she explained that her mother-in-law had left her some old
furniture, which her husband had just brought to the house; among it was
this board, black and indistinguishable with age and, without
examination, she had put it on the objectionable article, but when this
was pointed out to her she had removed it. As she was a simple woman and
there was no apparent malice, the case was suspended[762].
In contrast with the severity of the secular courts, as manifested by
the Madrid case of 1644 above referred to, and the French case of the
Chevalier de La Barre, the Inquisition was singularly merciful. In 1661,
Francisco de Abiles, chief auditor of the Priors of St. John, for
insults to an image of Christ, was only exiled for two years by the
Toledo tribunal, which likewise, in 1689 merely exiled for one year Juan
Martin Salvador for stabbing a cross[763]. Perhaps the instance of
greatest rigor that I have met was that visited, in 1720, by the Madrid
tribunal on a youth named Joseph de la Sarria. While confined in the
royal prison he became enraged in gambling and, in his wrath, he threw
in the dirt a picture of the Virgin and tore up another, for which he
was sentenced to two hundred lashes, five years in the galleys and eight
years of exile from Madrid and his native province of Galicia[764].
[Sidenote: _UNCANONIZED SAINTS_]
During the active period of the Inquisition, cases of this offence are
singularly few. In all the sixty-four autos held in Spain, from 1721 to
1727, there is not a single specific instance serious enough to require
appearance in an auto, indicating how universal and deep-seated was the
popular reverence for sacred symbols. It is therefore significant of the
spiritual and intellectual unrest characterizing the close of the
century, that outrages on images became comparatively frequent. In the
decade, 1780-1789 inclusive, there were sixteen cases; in that of
1790-1799, thirty-three and, from 1800 to 1810, nineteen, some of them,
such as trampling on the cross, indicative of iconoclastic zeal. Under
the Restoration, there are but three cases on record.[765]
During this period the spirit of revolt manifested itself in other
kindred ways. In 1797, 1798, 1799, 1800 and 1802 there were trials for
throwing down and trampling on consecrated wafers. In 1797, in Valencia,
Bernardo Amengayl, Ignacio Sánchez, Miguel Escribá and Valentin Duza
were prosecuted for exhibitions burlesquing the saints and sacred
objects. In 1799, at Seville, Manuel Mirasol was tried for a
sacrilegious assault on a priest carrying the sacrament to a sick man.
In 1807, Dr. Vicente Peña, priest of Cifuentes was prosecuted in Cuenca
for celebrating a burlesque mass and Don Eusebio de la Mota for
assisting him.[766] These were surface indications of the hidden
currents which were bearing Spain to new destinies, and it is worthy of
note that they almost ceased during the brief years of the Inquisition
under the Restoration.
* * * * *
Akin to the function of preserving images from insult, was the reverent
care with which the Inquisition sought to protect the cross from
accidental pollution. A carta acordada of September 20, 1629, instructs
the tribunals to suppress the custom of painting or placing crosses in
recesses of streets or where two walls form an angle, or other unclean
places, where they are exposed to filth, while all existing ones are to
be removed or erased under discretional penalties. Another carta of
April 19, 1689, recites that not only has this not been done, but that
the custom of placing crosses in these objectionable places is
extending, wherefore the previous orders are reissued, with notice that
six days after publication will be allowed, subsequently to which the
penalties will be enforced.[767]
UNCANONIZED SAINTS.
In the exuberant cult offered to saints, there must be some central and
absolute authority to determine claims to sainthood and to preserve the
faithful from the superstition of wasting devotion on those who have no
power of suffrage. St. Ulric of Augsburg is said to be the first saint
whose sanctity was deliberately passed upon by Rome, in 993, and
Alexander III, in 1181 definitely forbade the adoration of those who had
not been canonized by the Holy See.[768] The assumption of such
authority was essential, for the cult of a local saint was profitable to
a shrine fortunate enough to possess his remains, and popular enthusiasm
was ready at any moment to ascribe sainthood to any devotee who had
earned the reputation of especial holiness.
How difficult it was for even the Inquisition to crush this eagerness
for new intercessors between God and man, is seen in the disturbances
which troubled Valencia for seven years, between 1612 and 1619. After
the death of Mosen Francisco Simon, a priest of holy life, there
developed a fixed belief that he was a saint in heaven. Chapels and
altars were dedicated to him, books were printed filled with the
miracles wrought by his intercession, his images were adorned with the
nimbus of sanctity, processions and illuminations were organized in his
honor, and the question of his right to a place in the calendar became a
political as well as a religious one. It was in vain that the Holy See
asserted its unquestioned right of decision and ordered the Inquisition
to suppress the superstition. Popular excitement reached such height
that an attempt was made to murder in the pulpit a secretary of the
tribunal, when he endeavored to read the edict; a priest named Ozar was
slain for opposing the popular frenzy, and Archbishop Aliaga, for six
years after his election in 1612, was unable to perform the visitation
of his see, because he would everywhere have met with the unauthorized
cult which he could not sanction by partaking. The Suprema did its best
by continual consultas to Philip III, asking the aid of the secular arm
in suppressing this schismatic devotion, and enable it to publish its
condemnatory edicts. Its efforts were neutralized by the Council of
Aragon, backed by the all-powerful favorite Lerma, whose marquisate of
Denia led him to favor the Valencians. It was doubtless his disgrace, in
1618, which enabled the Suprema to attain its purpose, when an energetic
consulta of January 10, 1619, was returned with a decree in the royal
autograph to the effect that, if certain five points that had been
agreed upon were not executed within a month, the tribunal could be
ordered to publish the edicts without further delay.[769]
[Sidenote: _UNCANONIZED SAINTS_]
In this case the Inquisition acted under special papal commands, but the
growing abuse of the unauthorized cult of supposititious saints led
Urban VIII, in 1634, to issue a general decree empowering bishops and
inquisitors to repress, with penalties proportioned to the offence, all
worship of saints and martyrs not pronounced as such by the Holy See, or
relating their miracles in books, or representing them with the
nimbus.[770] Under this the Index of Sotomayor, in 1640, and the
subsequent ones, ordered the suppression of all images or portraits
adorned with the insignia of sanctity, unless the persons represented
had been duly beatified or canonized by Rome.[771]
Yet they did not condemn a work issued, in 1636, by a pious priest of
Salamanca and Toledo, Francisco Miranda y Paz, urging the cult as a
saint of Adam, the father of the human race, and audaciously asking
whether this could not be done without the licence of the Roman
pontiff.[772] In fact, what the Inquisition did in discharge of this
duty is less significant than what it left undone. We have seen (Vol. I,
p. 134) that the assumed martyrdom of _El Santo Niño de la Guardia_ was
followed by a popular cult of the unknown victim. That cult proved
exceedingly lucrative to those who exploited it and has continued to the
present day, although Rome could never be induced to sanction it, yet
the Inquisition prudently forbore to interfere with it in any way.[773]
Similar abstention was observed in the celebrated case of the forgeries
known as the _Plomos del Sacromonte_--inscribed leaden plates,
accompanied by bones assumed to be those of the earliest Christian
martyrs, exhumed in 1595, on a mountain near Granada. The forgeries were
clumsy enough, but they favored the two points dearest to the Spanish
heart--the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin and the Spanish
apostolate of St. James. They were welcomed with the intensest fervor, a
house of secular canons was erected on the spot, which grew wealthy
through the offerings of pilgrims, and innumerable miracles attested the
sanctity of the relics. Rome refused to admit the authenticity of the
_plomos_ without examining them; after a long struggle they were sent
there in 1641, and after another protracted contest they were condemned
as fabrications, May 6, 1682, by Innocent XI in a special brief. The
bones of the so-called martyrs were not specifically condemned as
spurious, but they were not accepted as genuine, yet the Index of Vidal
Marin, while printing the condemnation of the plomos and of the books
written in their defence, was careful to assert that the prohibition did
not include the relics or the veneration paid to them; the Sacromonte is
still a place of pilgrimage and, in the Plaza del Triunfo of Granada,
there stands a pillar bearing the names and martyrdoms of the saints as
recorded in the plomos.[774] Yet, so long as the claims of the martyrs
were not allowed by Rome and the only evidence in their favor was
condemned as fabricated, this was superstition, and its suppression was
the duty of the Inquisition.
While it was empowered to do this by the decree of Urban VIII, it is not
easy to see whence Inquisitor-general Arce y Reynoso obtained faculties
to authorize the cult of supposititious saints not accepted by the Holy
See. The success of the plomos led a learned Jesuit, Roman de la
Higuera, and his imitators, to fabricate chronicles of early Christian
times, principally designed to stimulate Mariolatry and belief in the
Christianization of Spain by St. James. They were long accepted as
genuine and, in 1650, Arce y Reynoso ordered the fictitious saints and
martyrs who figure in them to be included in litanies as objects of
veneration and worship.[775]
Still, the Inquisition asserted to the last its authority under the
decree of Urban VIII. So recently as 1818, when Josef de Herrera, an
apothecary of Xeres de la Frontera, desired to establish the cult of an
engraving of the Trinity, copied from a picture venerated in the
cathedral of Mexico, the tribunal of Seville prohibited the
effort.[776]
[Sidenote: _THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION_]
THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION.
The dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin had a struggle for
recognition through six centuries, before it was defined as an article
of faith by Pius IX in 1854.[777] In Spain, where popular devotion to
the Virgin was especially ardent, it had, in the seventeenth century,
become almost universally accepted, except by the Dominicans, whose
reverence for their great doctor, St. Thomas Aquinas, bound them to
follow him in its denial. In this they had long been fighting a losing
battle with their great rivals, the Franciscans, and of late with their
still more bitter foes, the Jesuits. Successive popes--Sixtus IV, Paul
IV, Paul V and Gregory XV--in vain sought to suppress the disputatious
scandals by forbidding public discussion of the subject under severe
penalties, and the two latter extended these penalties to those who
should publicly assert the Virgin to have been conceived in original
sin--but still the Holy See cautiously abstained from declaring the
conception to have been immaculate. The enforcement of these penalties
was confided to all bishops and inquisitors.
From 1617 to 1656, Philip III and Philip IV made the Immaculate
Conception a matter of state policy, by long and earnest efforts with
the papacy to decide it affirmatively, and negotiations for combined
action were carried on with France, but the Gallican court responded
only with pious phrases.[778] That in this the crown was but voicing the
wishes of the people was manifested when, in 1636, a man who ventured,
in Madrid, to assert that the Virgin was conceived in original sin, was
promptly cut down by some passing soldiers, was arrested by the
Inquisition, and as soon as his wounds were healed, was thrown into the
secret prison for due prosecution under the papal decrees.[779]
The Dominicans and their followers found it hard to observe the discreet
silence prescribed by the popes and, in 1661, the Spanish bishops united
in earnest request to Alexander VII, representing that persons were
still found who publicly denied the Immaculate Conception. Philip IV
sent the Bishop of Plasencia to Rome, as a special envoy, to convey this
memorial, resulting in the brief _Sollicitudo_, of December 8, 1661, in
which Alexander expressly abstained from defining it as a dogma, but
forbade the teaching of the opposite, as well as stigmatizing the
opposite as heresy, thus continuing the non-committal policy of his
predecessors, to prevent discussions and quarrels without deciding the
question. To this end he empowered all prelates and inquisitors to
prosecute and punish transgressors severely, no matter what exemptions
they might claim, and including even Jesuits. He also placed on the
Index all books impugning the Immaculate Conception and likewise those
which should tax unbelievers with heresy.[780]
This brief was received with great rejoicings by the upholders of the
doctrine, who regarded it as a triumph. In Valencia it was made the
occasion of a splendid festival, in which pasquinades on the opponents
were plentiful. One, which was greatly applauded, represented a
Dominican stretched on a sick-bed and watched by a Jesuit. A Franciscan
opening the door enquires "How is the good brother?" to which the Jesuit
replies "He is speechless, but he still lives." It was doubtless to the
temper thus evinced that we may attribute the suppression by the Suprema
of the city's official report of the celebration, the prohibition of one
paper and the correction of another.[781]
[Sidenote: _UNNATURAL CRIME_]
The brief was promptly transmitted to the tribunals by the Suprema, with
orders for its enforcement which show how delicately such explosive
material had to be handled. They were cautioned that, when they or their
commissioners were present at sermons preached by Dominicans, they must
be careful that any action taken was such as not to create scandal. They
were not trusted with prosecuting transgressors, but were ordered,
beforehand, to transmit to the Suprema the sumarias with the opinions of
the calificadores, and to await instructions. Apparently the customary
jealousy arose between the episcopal and inquisitorial jurisdictions,
for a carta acordada of 1667 calls for information as to whether the
Ordinaries concurred in hearing cases, or whether they were treated as
belonging exclusively to the Inquisition.[782]
It was impossible to make the angry disputants keep the peace, and the
Suprema was busy in condemning and suppressing writings on both sides.
In 1663 we find it ordering the seizure at the ports of two books
printed in Italy. An edict of January 4, 1664, suppressed fifteen books
and tracts, issued in 1662 and 1663, as indecent and irreverent to the
Holy See, the Religion of St. Dominic and the Angelic Doctor Aquinas.
Another decree, of December 7, 1671, suppressed two books indecently
attacking the Dominicans and another of prayers and exercises for the
devotion of the Immaculate Conception by the Franciscan Provincial
Bonaqua. Books of devotion thus assumed a controversial character, and
we can safely assume this to be the cause of an order, in 1679, to seize
at Alicante and transmit to the Suprema a box of Dominican
breviaries.[783]
I have chanced to meet with but few cases of prosecutions for impugning
the Immaculate Conception, but they occurred occasionally. Thus, in
1782, Don Antonio Fornes, a pilot's mate of a naval vessel, was tried in
Seville for obstinately denying it and, in 1785, Don Isidro Moreno, a
physician, and his son Joaquin, were brought before the Saragossa
tribunal for the same offence.[784]
UNNATURAL CRIME.
Inherited from classical antiquity, unnatural crime was persistent
throughout the Middle Ages, in spite of the combined efforts of Church
and State. It is true that, with the leniency shown to clerical
offenders, the Council of Lateran, in 1179, prescribed for them only
degradation or penitential confinement in a monastery, which was carried
into the canon law, but secular legislation was more severe and the
usual penalty was burning alive.[785] In Spain, in the thirteenth
century, the punishment prescribed was castration and lapidation, but,
in 1497, Ferdinand and Isabella decreed burning alive and confiscation,
irrespective of the station of the culprit. The crime was _mixti
fori_--the law treated it as subject to the secular courts, but it was
also ecclesiastical and, in 1451, Nicholas V empowered the Inquisition
to deal with it.[786] When the institution was founded in Spain it seems
to have assumed cognizance, for we are told that, in 1506, the Seville
tribunal made it the subject of a special inquest; there were many
arrests and many fugitives, and twelve convicts were duly burnt.[787]
Possibly this may have called attention to the incongruity of diverting
the Inquisition from its legitimate duties with the New Christians, for
a decree of the Suprema, October 18, 1509, assumes that this had already
been recognized, and it informs the tribunals that they are not to deal
with the crime, as it was not within their jurisdiction.[788] This
apparently settled the matter as far as the Castilian kingdoms were
concerned.
[Sidenote: _UNNATURAL CRIME_]
In Aragon it does not appear that the early Inquisition took cognizance
of the matter, as is shown by the curious connection of the crime with
the rising of the Germanía. In 1519, the city of Valencia was suffering
from a pestilence which had driven away most of the nobles and higher
officials when, on St. Magdalen's day (June 14th), Fray Luis Castelloli
preached an eloquent sermon in which he attributed the pest to the wrath
of God excited by the prevalence of the offence. The populace were
excited and hunted up four culprits, who confessed and were duly burnt
by the justiciary, Hieronimo Farragud, on July 29th. There was a fifth,
a baker who wore the tonsure and was delivered to the episcopal court,
which sentenced him to vergüenza. This dissatisfied the people who tore
him from the spiritual authorities, garroted and burnt him. The governor
was summoned, and the leaders of the mob feared punishment. There had
been a scare concerning a rumored attack by the Moors, which had led
the trades to form military companies; these were further organized,
elected a chief and swore confraternity, when, recognizing their
strength, they utilized the opportunity of gratifying their hatred of
the nobles and the rebellion broke out.[789]
In all this the Inquisition was evidently not thought of as having
jurisdiction, but possibly it may have drawn attention to the crime and
led to an application to Clement VII for a special brief placing it
under inquisitorial jurisdiction. Bleda, however, tells us that, when
the Duke of Sessa, ambassador at Rome, made request for such a brief, he
gave as a reason that it had been introduced into Spain by the
Moors.[790] Be this as it may, the brief of Clement, February 24, 1524,
recites that Sessa had represented the increasing prevalence of the
crime and had asked for an appropriate remedy, which the pope proceeded
to grant. The form in which it is drawn shows that the matter was
regarded as wholly foreign to the regular duties of the Holy Office, for
it is addressed, not to the inquisitor-general as usual, but to the
individual inquisitors of Aragon, Catalonia and Valencia, and it
authorizes them to sub-delegate their powers to whom they please. They
are empowered to proceed against all persons, lay or clerical, of
whatever rank, either by accusation, denunciation, inquisition, or of
their own motion, and to compel the testimony of unwilling witnesses.
That the offence was not ecclesiastical or heretical was admitted by the
limitation that the trial was to be conducted in accordance with local
municipal law, but yet, with singular inconsistency, the episcopal
Ordinary was to be called in when rendering sentence.[791] The Barcelona
tribunal seems to have questioned, in 1537, whether the brief continued
in force, for the Suprema wrote to it July 11th, that there had not been
time to decide this positively, but that it might continue to act.[792]
Whatever doubts existed were settled in favor of the Inquisition, and
the Aragonese tribunals enjoyed the jurisdiction to the end. The
Archbishop of Saragossa had complained of being thus deprived of
cognizance of these cases, and it was restored to him by a brief of
January 16, 1525, but, at the request of Charles V, Pope Clement, July
15, 1530, evoked all pending cases to himself and committed them to the
inquisitors, with full power to decide them, in conjunction with the
Ordinary.[793]
Castile was never included within the special grant. In answer to some
inquiring tribunal, the Suprema replied, November 6, 1534, that the
matter did not pertain to the Inquisition, nor was it deemed advisable
to procure a brief conferring such power. This was adhered to. In 1575,
the Logroño tribunal was informed that it could not prosecute such cases
as it had no faculty and, about 1580, the tribunal of Peru was told not
to meddle with it in any way, except in cases of solicitation.[794] The
Consulta Magna of 1696 states that Philip II, towards the close of his
reign, applied to Clement VIII for a brief conferring the power on the
Castilian Inquisition, but the pope declined for the reason that the
whole attention of the inquisitors should be concentrated on matters of
faith.[795]
Majorca, although belonging to the crown of Aragon, was not specifically
included in the brief of Clement VII, and never assumed the power. When,
in 1644, the commissioner in Iviza reported to Inquisitor Francisco
Gregorio about Jaime Gallestria, a cleric denounced for this offence,
Gregorio replied that he had no jurisdiction; still the tribunal was
accustomed to arrest offenders and hand them over for trial to the
secular judges, so he sent a warrant for the arrest of Gallestria, even
though he had taken asylum in a church.[796] It is symptomatic that
arrest by the Inquisition, for a crime over which it had no
jurisdiction, was considered a matter of course.
[Sidenote: _UNNATURAL CRIME_]
Sicily also belonged to Aragon, but was not included. In 1569 Philip II
ordered the death-penalty to be rigidly enforced, without exceptions,
and that the informer should receive twenty ounces from the estate of
the convict, but this was slackly obeyed by the secular courts and, in
the Concordia of 1597, he reserved the crime exclusively to the
Inquisition, with the understanding that a papal brief should be applied
for, relieving inquisitors from irregularity for relaxing culprits.
Application was accordingly made to Clement VIII, but, after Philip's
death, the Viceroy Duke of Maqueda and the ambassador, the Duke of
Sessa, at the instance of influential Sicilians, urged Clement to
refuse, which he not only did but forbade the Inquisition to take
cognizance of such cases. The tribunal complained that this deprived it
of its jurisdiction over its own officials, to which the reply was that
it was not the pope's intention to exonerate them from it. The tribunal
therefore continued to punish its own guilty ministers, and the number
of cases cited would seem to indicate that the crime was by no means
uncommon. The punishments inflicted were comparatively moderate--occasionally
imprisonment for life or banishment, perpetual or temporary, from the
place of offending, or deprivation of office with heavy fines.[797]
Dr. Martin Real, who tells us this, writing in 1638, further informs us
that, throughout Italy, the crime was everywhere treated with a leniency
wholly inadequate to its atrocity. The Roman Inquisition, moreover, took
no cognizance of it. When, in 1644, some Conventual Franciscans rendered
themselves conspicuous by sounding the praises of the practice, the
Congregation contented itself with ordering their superiors to proceed
against them with severity.[798]
In Portugal, João III had no sooner got his Inquisition into working
order than he was seized with the desire to obtain for it jurisdiction
over the _pecado maao_. This he pursued with characteristic obstinacy,
while the papacy manifested its customary repugnance. It was not until
after his death that Pius IV, in a brief of February 20, 1562, committed
the decision to the conscience of Cardinal Henrique, confirming in
advance what he might do--but trials were to be conducted according to
municipal law. Henrique had no scruples, but, in 1574, he applied to
Gregory XIII for confirmation and for using the process for heresy in
these cases, when again the pope committed to him the decision and
ratified it in advance.[799] In 1640, the Regulations prescribe that the
offence is to be tried like heresy, and the punishment is to be either
relaxation or scourging and the galleys. In a case occurring in the
Lisbon auto of 1723, the sentence was scourging and ten years of
galley-service.[800]
* * * * *
In their general hostility to the Inquisition, the Aragonese kingdoms
objected to this extension of its jurisdiction. There were complaints by
the Córtes and, in the various Concordias and settlements, there were
concessions secured which gave to the secular judges some participation
in the trials. Into the details of these more or less temporary
arrangements it is scarce worth while to enter, except to mention that,
in the struggle which resulted in the Concordia of 1646, Aragon gained
the point that the crime was recognized as _mixti fori_, to be tried by
either the secular court or the Inquisition, according to priority in
commencing action, and that familiars were included in this.[801]
The current practice may be gathered from the answers of Valencia and
Saragossa, in response to inquiries by the Suprema, in 1573. In Valencia
arrest was accompanied by sequestration, but not in Aragon, where the
crime did not entail confiscation. In Aragon, when a new inquisitor was
inducted, the papal briefs were presented to him and he accepted them,
and all sentences commenced by qualifying the inquisitors as _juezes
comisarios apostolicos para conocer en el crimen de sodomia_, showing
that this was a special jurisdiction. The routine of procedure in the
two tribunals did not vary much; the process was somewhat simpler than
in heresy trials, the accused was allowed ample means of defence in
counsel, advocates and procurators, witnesses' names were not
suppressed, except in Valencia when the accused was of high rank, in
which case the Suprema was consulted. After the publication of evidence,
the procurator had the right to examine the witnesses. The Concordia of
1568 had provided that convicts should not appear in autos, but in
Aragon this was left to the discretion of the tribunal, which generally
exhibited them there.[802]
[Sidenote: _UNNATURAL CRIME_]
These reports make no allusion to the concurrence of secular judges, but
the practice may be gathered from a letter of Philip II, March 17, 1575,
to the Captain-general of Catalonia, where it appears that, when a
convict was relaxed, the royal court demanded to see the papers of the
case before pronouncing sentence. This the king pronounced to be wholly
wrong and ordered the custom of Valencia and Aragon to be
followed--that, when a case was ready for decision, the inquisitors
notified the captain-general, who delegated judges to take part in the
consulta, after which the sentence was to be executed without further
examination.[803]
Torture was freely employed, even on the testimony of a single
accomplice. This raised a question in Aragon, where the use of torture
was forbidden, as the trials were to be conducted in accordance with
municipal law, but the Inquisition replied that the brief of Clement VII
had been applied for at the request of the secular judges, who had found
themselves unable to convict for lack of torture, and desired, for that
reason, the Inquisition to have jurisdiction--the truth of which
assertion may well be doubted. In 1636 there was raised a question as to
torturing witnesses who revoked, but it was decided in the
negative.[804]
Punishment varied with time and place. In Aragon, spontaneous confession
was encouraged by simply reprimanding the culprit, warning him and
ordering him to confess sacramentally, and this was confirmed by the
Suprema, in a decree of August 6, 1600. In Valencia, however,
self-denunciation was visited with scourging and galleys and, if
testimony of accomplices supervened, with relaxation.[805] For those
accused and regularly convicted, the statutory and ordinary punishment
was burning. When, in 1577, the Captain-general of Valencia had some
hesitation as to his duty, in the case of two culprits relaxed to him by
the Inquisition, Philip II ordered him to execute them promptly and, as
late as 1647, in an auto at Barcelona, one was garroted and burnt.[806]
Yet, on the whole, there seems to have been a disinclination to relax
these offenders, who could not escape, as heretics could, by confession
and conversion. In 1616 we find the Suprema asking the Valencia tribunal
why it had not confiscated the estate of Dr. Pérez, convicted of this
crime and, in 1634, it enquires whether there is any fuero prohibiting
the _pena ordinaria_, when guilt has been fully proved and the offender
is of full age.[807] About 1640, an experienced inquisitor informs us
that, in Saragossa, the penalty for those over 25 was relaxation; for
minors, scourging and the galleys, but he adds that this is not
observed; he had seen many thus convicted and condemned to relaxation,
but the Suprema always commuted the penalty.[808]
Ecclesiastics seem to have been regarded as entitled to especial
leniency. In 1684, the Suprema called to account the Valencia tribunal
for its benignity, in a case of this kind, when it replied in much
detail. Two decrees of Pius V in 1568, it said, had prescribed
relaxation, with preliminary degradation, in the case of priests and, in
1574, the tribunal had so treated the case of a subdeacon. Many
authorities, however, held that clerics were not to be subjected to the
rigor of the law for this offence, and it was the common opinion that
incorrigibility was required to justify the ordinary penalty. This had
been the practice in Valencia, especially since 1615, when a priest was
convicted of a single act and, by order of the Suprema, was sentenced to
an extraordinary penalty. This had since been followed in various cases,
so that clerics were not relaxed unless incorrigible, and this was
defined to be when repeated punishment showed that the Church could not
reform them. This argument, moreover, precluded the use of torture
which, as the tribunal pointed out, could be used only when the penalty
was worse than torture.[809]
[Sidenote: _UNNATURAL CRIME_]
The case which called forth this explanation affords a very instructive
example of the advantage to justice of an open trial, with opportunity
of cross-examination. The accused was Fray Manuel Sánchez del Castellar
y Arbustan, a distinguished member of the Order of La Merced. The trial
had lasted for nearly three years, when the papers were submitted to the
Suprema, in August, 1684. There were two accomplice witnesses to
consummated acts, others to solicitation, others to lascivious and
filthy actions, and others to general foul reputation. Under the
ordinary inquisitorial process, condemnation would have been inevitable,
but repeated examinations and cross-examinations revealed discrepancies
and contradictions and variations, and a knowledge of the witnesses
enabled the accused to present evidence of enmities. The conclusion
reached by the tribunal was that nearly the whole mass of evidence was
the result of a conspiracy, embracing a number of frailes of the
convent, incited by jealousy of the honors and position obtained by
Sánchez. Still, there was some testimony as to indiscretions, which was
not rebutted and, as there had been a great scandal requiring a victim,
with customary inquisitorial logic, he was sentenced to four years'
exile from Valencia, Orihuela and Madrid, for the first two of which he
was deprived of active and passive voice, of confessing and preaching
and of all honors in his Order. In this, consideration was given to
three years spent in prison, so that, if innocent, he had suffered
severely and was sent forth branded with an ineffaceable stigma while,
if guilty, he had a penalty far less than his deserts. When the Suprema
asked why the two witnesses to complicity were not prosecuted, the
tribunal replied that they were regarded as spontaneously confessing,
and it was not customary to prosecute in such cases; besides, although
their enmity and contradictions invalidated their testimony, these were
insufficient to justify prosecution for false-witness.[810] Altogether
it was an unpleasant business, which the tribunal evidently desired to
despatch with as little damage as possible to the Church.
The tendency towards leniency increased with time, and was shown to
laymen as well as to ecclesiastics. In 1717, the Barcelona tribunal
sentenced Guillaume Amiel, a Frenchman, to four years of presidio and
perpetual banishment from Spain. The Suprema commuted the presidio to a
hundred lashes but, when the sentence was read, Amiel protested that his
father was a gentleman and that he held a patent as "teniente del Rey
Christianisimo," thus claiming exemption from degrading corporal
punishment. The proceedings were suspended, and the Suprema was
consulted, which omitted the lashes and, on the same account, the boy
Ramon Gils, who was the accomplice, was spared the vergüenza to which he
had been condemned.[811]
[Sidenote: _USURY_]
The most conspicuous case of this nature in the annals of the
Inquisition was that of Don Pedro Luis Galceran de Borja, Grand-master
of the Order of Montesa. He was not only a grandee of Spain, but was
allied to the royal house, he was half-brother to Francisco de Borja,
Duke of Grandía and subsequently General of the Jesuits, and was of kin
to nearly all the noblest lineages of the land. For his arrest, in 1571,
the assent of Philip II was necessary; he was not confined in the secret
prison, but had commodious apartments from which, during his trial, he
conducted the affairs of the Order. He claimed exemption on the ground
of the privileges of the Order, and more than two years were spent in
debating the question, though it was pointed out that, while the
Trinitarians had even greater privileges, two members professed of that
Order had recently been relaxed for the same crime, and Borja was not
even a cleric, but a married man with children. The claim was finally
disallowed and the trial went slowly on. The evidence reduced itself to
two "singular" witnesses, who testified to solicitation and attempt, and
to one, Martin de Castro, who testified to consummation and then
revoked. Powerful influence from all quarters was brought to bear to
save the accused, and in the final consulta de fe there was discordia.
Two inquisitors and the Ordinary voted for acquittal. The other
inquisitor, who was Juan de Rojas, in a written opinion, called for four
years of exile and a heavy fine. The Suprema, after prolonged
correspondence with the tribunal, accepted this, but changed the exile
to six years of reclusion in his convent of Montesa. Llorente intimates
that the inquisitors expected to gain bishoprics, or at least places in
the Suprema, and that a bargain was made through which, on Borja's
death, the Order of Montesa was incorporated with the crown, as the
military Orders of Castile had been under Ferdinand; to this latter some
color was lent by Philip's appointment of Borja's natural son to the
grand commandership of the Order, from which he rose to the cardinalate.
There is an evident allusion to this case in the remark of an Italian
traveller in 1593, who, when speaking of the severity of the
Inquisition in these matters, illustrates it by the story of a grandee
who, for merely throwing his arm around the neck of a page, spent ten
years in prison and fifty thousand ducats.[812]
Cases were sufficiently frequent to give the Aragonese tribunals
considerable occupation, especially after it was included in the Edict
of Faith in 1574, as a crime to be denounced.[813] I have but a few
scattering data, but they are suggestive. Thus, in Saragossa, at the
auto of June 6, 1585, there were four culprits relaxed.[814] In
Catalonia, in 1597, the report, by Inquisitor Heredia, of a visitation
through the see of Tarragona and parts of those of Barcelona, Vich and
Urgel, contains sixty-eight cases of all kinds and of these fifteen were
for this class of offences, though most of them were subsequently
suspended.[815] In Valencia, there appeared in the autos from January
1598 to December 1602, twenty-seven of these culprits, of whom seven
were frailes.[816] As it was customary to read the sentences _con
meritos_, the populace had an edifying education. From 1780 to 1820, the
total number of cases coming before the three tribunals was exactly one
hundred.[817]
USURY.
The ecclesiastical definition of usury is not, as we understand the
term, an exorbitant charge for the use of money, beyond the legal rate,
but any interest or other advantage, however small or indirect, derived
from a loan of money or other article. Forbidden by the Old Law, between
the Chosen People, and extended under the New to the brotherhood of man,
it has been the subject of denunciation continuously from the primitive
Church to the most recent times. Ingenuity has been exhausted in
devising methods of repression and punishment, only to show how
impossible has been the task of warring against human nature and human
necessities.
From an early period, usury was regarded as an ecclesiastical sin and
crime, subject to spiritual jurisdiction in both the _forum internum_
and _forum externum_. In 1258 Alexander IV rendered it justiciable by
the Inquisition and, at the Council of Vienne, in 1312, the assertion
that the taking of interest is not a sin was defined to be a heresy,
which the Inquisition was in duty required to prosecute.[818] During the
later Middle Ages, when the greater heresies had been largely
suppressed, the prosecution of usurers formed a considerable, and the
most profitable, portion of inquisitorial activity. It is true that the
heresy consisted in denying that usury is a sin, but, as the Repertorium
of 1494 explains, the usurer or simonist, who does not affirm or deny
but is silent and tacitly believes it not to be a sin to commit usury or
simony, is a pertinacious heretic mentally.[819]
[Sidenote: _USURY_]
In Spain, the usurious practices of Jews and Conversos were the
principal source of popular hostility, but Jews were not subject to the
Inquisition and, in its earlier years, it appears not to have recognized
its jurisdiction in this matter over the Conversos, for I have met with
no trace, at this period, of action by it against usury, whether in
Castile or in Aragon. As regards the latter, indeed, it was impeded by a
fuero of the Córtes of Calatayud, in 1461, prohibiting the prosecution
of usurers, by both the secular and spiritual courts, and the procuring
of faculties for the purpose by the Inquisition. To ensure the
observance of this, Juan II was required to swear that he would not
obtain any papal rescript or commission authorizing inquisition into
usury and that, if such rescript were had, it should not be used but be
delivered within a month to the Diputados.[820] It may be assumed that
the Inquisition sought relief from this restriction, for Julius II
issued a _motu proprio_, January 14, 1504, reciting the fuero of
Calatayud and stating that the _usuraria pravitas_ had so increased that
a measure of wheat would be multiplied to twenty-five within three
years, chiefly because the Inquisition, in consequence of this fuero,
was precluded from the exercise of its lawful jurisdiction. He therefore
ordered Inquisitor-general Deza to prosecute all Christian usurers and
compel them to desist, by inflicting the penalties prescribed by the
general council, while Ferdinand was summoned to aid the inquisitors,
and he and his successors were released from any oaths to observe the
fuero.[821]
As all commercial and financial transactions at the time were based on
interest payment and, as the agriculturist habitually borrowed seed-corn
before sowing, to be repaid with increase after harvest, the Inquisition
thus had an ample field opened for its operations. That it did not
neglect the opportunity is fairly inferable from the opposition excited.
It was the subject of one of the most energetic remonstrances of the
Córtes of Monzon in 1510, and the Concordia of 1512 bore an article in
which Ferdinand promised to obtain from the pope the revocation of the
faculties granted to the inquisitors; that he would allow no other grant
to be obtained, and that meanwhile he would arrange that no prosecutions
should be brought except for open assertion that usury was no sin. For
this, as for the other articles, he swore to procure the papal
confirmation. Inquisitors were likewise sworn to obey the Concordia and,
when Ferdinand was released from his oath by Leo X, in the brief of
April 30, 1513, a _motu proprio_ followed, September 2d, to the effect
that, as heresy and usury are the most heinous of crimes, to be
prosecuted with the sharpest rigor, the inquisitors were released from
their oaths and directed to employ the faculties granted by Julius II
for the suppression of usury.[822] This serves to explain why, in the
compromise embodied in Inquisitor-general Mercader's Instructions of
1514, there is no allusion to usury--the inquisitors were not to be
disturbed in the exercise of their functions in this respect.[823] When,
however, Leo, in 1516, confirmed the Concordia of 1512, he removed
usury from inquisitorial jurisdiction and prohibited its prosecution
unless the culprit should hold it not to be a sin.[824]
It has already been seen how completely the Inquisition ignored all
these agreements, in spite of royal and papal confirmations. So, when
Charles V was obliged, in 1518, at the Córtes of Saragossa, to take the
specific and elaborate oath imposed on Juan II, it proved equally
futile.[825] Inquisitors continued to exercise jurisdiction, but, in
Aragon proper, they were impeded for a time by a brief of Clement VII,
January 16, 1525, ordering them to confine themselves in future to
heresy--a brief procured by Juan of Austria, Archbishop of Saragossa,
who claimed jurisdiction over usury for his own court.[826] This
afforded slender relief, for he employed the inquisitorial process and
the Córtes of Saragossa, in 1528, adopted a fuero, confirmed by Charles
V, reciting that the laws provide for the punishment of usurers by the
secular courts, but that the ecclesiastical judges were prosecuting
them, wherefore, at the desire of the four brazos, his majesty ordered
the ancient laws of the kingdom to be enforced without exception.[827]
So long as the Inquisition was not involved, Charles was indifferent as
to how usurers were treated, but, when the Catalans, at the Córtes of
Monzon, in the same year, complained of the prosecution of usury by
inquisitors and petitioned that it be prevented, he drily answered that
the laws should be observed and justice should be done.[828] No greater
satisfaction than this could be had when, a few years later, the Córtes
of the three kingdoms reiterated the complaint of the prosecutions for
usury by the Inquisition, inflicting an ineffaceable stain upon parties
and their descendants, even though they were discharged without penance.
The reply of the inquisitor-general to this was a simple denial, coupled
with the demand that the names of injured parties should be
produced.[829]
[Sidenote: _MORALS_]
In the absence of documents, it is not easy to understand why the
Inquisition suddenly abandoned a jurisdiction for which it had contended
so strenuously, but so it was. In 1552, Simancas asserts that
inquisitors have no cognizance of questions arising from usury, but must
leave them to the Ordinaries, for usurers are not moved by erroneous
belief, but by the desire for sordid gains.[830] In this Simancas
evidently spoke by authority, for the Suprema, in a carta acordada of
March 17, 1554, forbade the tribunals to take cognizance of usury, and
the subject disappears from inquisitorial records.[831] The secular and
spiritual courts were left to fight the losing battle with industrial
and commercial progress, which eventually compelled the recognition of
the fact that payment for the usance of money is customarily profitable
to both parties.
MORALS
The object of the Inquisition was the preservation of the purity of
faith and not the improvement of morals. The view taken of its duties as
to the latter is set forth in the comments of the Suprema on the report
by de Soto Salazar of his visitation, in 1566, of the Barcelona
tribunal. Clement, Abbot of Ripoll, was prosecuted for saying that so
great was the mercy of God that he would pardon a sinner who confessed,
even though he had not a firm intention to abstain in future, and also
for keeping a nun as a mistress. He was fined in four hundred ducats,
and was ordered to break off relations with the nun under pain of a
thousand ducats. The Suprema sharply reprimanded Inquisitor Padilla for
inflicting so heavy a penalty and for exceeding his jurisdiction in
prohibiting the unlawful connection. So, when the inquisitors fined
Jaime Bocca, an unmarried familiar, in twelve ducats for keeping a
married woman as mistress, the Suprema told them that it was none of
their business. It is true that in two other cases of familiars, fined
in twenty ducats each for keeping mistresses, the comment is simply that
the rigor was excessive.[832]
The same principle, as we have seen, was observed in the treatment of
solicitation. The question of morals was studiously excluded, as a
matter entirely beyond the purview of the Inquisition, and the only
point considered was the technical one whether cases came within papal
definitions drawn up to safeguard the sacrament of penitence. The same
remark applies to the vigorous prosecution of those who held simple
fornication to be no sin. There was no attempt to repress the sin
itself, for this was beyond the faculties conferred on the Inquisition,
but merely to ascertain and punish the mental attitude of the accused.
As time passed on, however, and as the heretics who were the legitimate
objects of the Holy Office grew scarce, there arose a tendency to
enlarge its sphere of action and to assume the position of acustos
morum. This has been seen in the censorship, which, during the later
period, came to be applied not only to obscene books but to all manner
of works of art that did not accord with the censor's standard of
decency.
From this it was an easy step to intervene in the private lives of
individuals, in matters wholly apart from its legitimate jurisdiction,
of which we find occasional examples in the later period of decadence.
Thus, in 1784, Josef Mas was prosecuted in Valencia for singing an
improper song at a dance, and in 1791, there is a prosecution of Manuel
de Pino for "indecent and irreligious acts." In 1792 the Barcelona
tribunal takes the testimony of Ramon Seroles of Lloc, with respect to
the scandalous life of the parish priest of that place and his abuse of
the holy oils. In 1810 the Valencia tribunal is investigating Rosa
Avinent, keeper of a tobacco-shop, for suspicion of maltreating some
children in her house. In 1816 the Santiago tribunal sentences Don
Miguel Quereyzaeta, a post-office official, to leave the city where he
has led a disorderly and scandalous life, and charges him to reconcile
himself to his wife and to live with her. In 1819, Don Antonio Clemente
de Polar is prosecuted by the Madrid tribunal for propositions and for
dressing in such wise as to satisfy the passions and for other
excesses.[833]
[Sidenote: _THE SEAL OF CONFESSION_]
In these and similar cases, it may be assumed that the parties
inculpated richly deserved correction, but this sporadic defence of
virtue and punishment of vice was much more likely to encourage the
gratification of malice than to elevate the standard of public morals,
and the employment of the tremendous machinery of the Inquisition in
such matters marks the depth of its fall from its former height. Had its
object from the beginning been the purification of morals as well as of
religion, possibly the awe which it inspired in all classes might have
resulted in some ethical improvement but, during the time of its power,
the impression that it produced was that morals were of slender account
in comparison with faith and, in the day of its decline, these
occasional attempts to extend its jurisdiction could only produce
exasperation without amendment.
THE SEAL OF CONFESSION.
When, in 1216, the fourth Council of Lateran rendered auricular
confession imperative, it was essential that the father confessor should
be bound to preserve absolute silence as to the sins revealed to him.
For a time there were some exceptions admitted, as heresy for instance,
but eventually the obligation became universal and the schoolmen
exhausted their ingenuity in devising the most extreme cases by which to
illustrate the inviolability of what has become known as the seal of
confession. Human nature being what it is, and priestly nature being
subject to human infirmities, the violation of the seal has, at all
times, been a source of anxiety and the object of rigorous punishment,
administered to the secular clergy by the spiritual courts, and to the
regulars by their superiors. The Roman Inquisition, in the first
half-century of its existence, assumed exclusive cognizance of the
offence, and demanded that all offenders, whether secular or regular,
should be tried by its tribunals, but, in 1609, it abandoned its
jurisdiction and left them to their bishops and prelates.[834]
As the heresy involved in betraying the confidence of the penitent was
only an inferential error as to the sacrament--an artificial pretext
like that devised with regard to solicitation--the Spanish Inquisition
did not hold it to be comprised in the general delegation of faculties,
but that a special papal commission was requisite. No attempt seems to
have been made to obtain this until 1639, when, on October 11th, the
Suprema addressed Philip IV a consulta setting forth that numerous
denunciations were received by the tribunals against confessors who
revealed confessions, and that inquisitors were asking urgently for
permission to prosecute such cases as violations of divine, natural and
political law, rendering culprits suspect in the faith, this being even
more derisory of the sacrament than solicitation. It was notorious that
the Ordinaries did not check it among the secular clergy, nor their
prelates among the regulars, nor could, in such hands, any remedy be
efficacious, because in public trials the witnesses would be bought off
or frightened off, and there were no secret prisons to assure the
necessary segregation of the accused. The king was therefore asked to
procure from the pope, for the Inquisition, exclusive jurisdiction over
the offence.[835] The Suprema probably did not exaggerate as to the
denunciations received by the tribunals, for, in the minor one of the
Canaries, we find it, in 1637, receiving testimony against Diego
Artiaga, priest of Hierro, for this offence, in 1643, against Diego
Salgado, priest of la Palma and, in 1644 against Fray Matías Pinto of
Teneriffe.[836]
There can be no doubt that Philip, as usual, acceded to the request of
the Suprema, but Urban VIII seems not to have been responsive. He had a
plausible reason for declining, in the fact that the Roman Inquisition
had abandoned its jurisdiction over the matter and, at the moment, he
was at odds with the Spanish over the question of censorship and of the
Plomos del Sacromonte. The offence was never included in the Edict of
Faith, but occasionally it is enumerated among the charges against
confessors on trial for solicitation, as in the cases of the Franciscan
Fray Juan Pachon de Salas, in Mexico in 1712, of the Carmelite Ventura
de San Joaquin in 1794, and of Fray Antonio Ortuño in 1807.[837] It was
difficult to eradicate belief in the competence of the Inquisition and,
as lately as 1808, José Antonio Alvárez, priest of Horcajo de los
Montes, was denounced for this offence to the Toledo tribunal, but the
trial was suspended, probably through doubt as to jurisdiction.[838]
When the question was brought up squarely, in the case of Doctor Don
Francisco Torneo, before the Valencia tribunal, after due discussion it
decided, March 28, 1816, that it had no jurisdiction, and the case was
accordingly dismissed.[839]
GENERAL UTILITY.
[Sidenote: _GENERAL UTILITY_]
The efficient organization of the Inquisition and the dread which it
inspired caused it to be invoked in numberless contingencies, most
diverse in character and wholly foreign to the objects of its
institution. A brief enumeration of a few of these will serve to
complete our survey of its activity and, trivial as they may seem, to
illustrate how powerful was the influence which it exercised over the
social life of Spain.
The value of its services, arising from the indefinite extent of its
powers, was recognized early. In 1499, a Benedictine monastery
complained to Ferdinand that it had pledged a cross to a certain Pedro
de Santa Cruz and could not recover it, as he had placed himself under
protection of Dominicans, who claimed exemption from legal processes.
Ferdinand thereupon ordered the inquisitors of the city to settle the
matter; they neglected it and he wrote again peremptorily, instructing
them to seize the cross and do justice between the parties. In April,
1500, the king instructs the Valencia tribunal to recover for Don Ramon
López, of the royal guard, two runaway slaves and some plate which they
had stolen.[840] Evidently there was no little variety of duties
expected of the Holy Office.
In 1518 a nunnery of Clares, in Calatayud, complained that, within ten
paces of their house, there had been built a Mercenarian convent of
which the inmates were disorderly; the nuns could not walk in their
garden without being seen and great scandals were apprehended. Charles V
applied to Leo X to have the Mercenarians replaced by Benedictines or
Gerónimites and the Inquisition was invoked to assist.[841] Parties
sometimes obtained papal briefs to have their suits transferred to the
tribunals. In 1548 Doña Aldonza Cerdan did this in a litigation with Don
Hernando de la Caballería and, in 1561, Doña Isabel de Francia in a suit
with Don Juan de Heredia. In both cases the inquisitors of Saragossa
refused to act until Inquisitor-general Valdés ordered them to do
so.[842] All inquisitors were not thus self-restrained, for when, about
this time, a general command was issued forbidding them to prosecute for
perjury committed in other courts, it shows that they had been asked to
do so and that some of them, at least, were ready to undertake such
business.[843] In 1647, when the prevalence of duelling called for some
effective means of repression, among the remedies proposed was that
sending a challenge should be made a matter for the Inquisition, on the
ground that the infamy accruing to the offender and his descendants
would be the most effective discouragement to punctilious
gentlemen.[844] The suggestion apparently was not adopted, but it
illustrates the readiness to have recourse to the elastic jurisdiction
of the Holy Office.
The Jesuits found the Inquisition of much service when, through the
favor of Olivares, they were enabled to invoke its intervention in one
of their quarrels with the Dominicans. In 1634, Fray Francisco Roales
issued a pamphlet against the Society and Dr. Espino, an ex-Carmelite,
published two others. They were answered by Padre Salazar and there the
matter might have ended, but the Jesuits appealed to Philip IV and to
Olivares, who promised satisfaction and ordered the Inquisitor-general
Sotomayor (himself a Dominican) to take action, with the significant
hint that he would be watched. A royal decree of January 29, 1635,
rebuked the Suprema for lack of zeal, and ordered it to act with all
diligence and to inflict severe punishment. It responded promptly on
February 1st with an edict suppressing the pamphlet of Roales under
heavy penalties, but this did not suffice and, on June 30th, it
prohibited every one, layman or ecclesiastic, from saying anything in
private or in public, derogatory to any religious Order or the members
thereof, under exemplary penalties, to be rigorously executed--a decree
which had to be repeated in 1643.
On June 27, 1635 the three obnoxious pamphlets were burned with
unprecedented ceremony. There was a solemn procession of the officials
and familiars, with the standards of the Inquisition, while a mule with
carmine velvet trappings bore a chest painted with flames in which were
the condemned writings. It traversed the principal streets to the plaza,
where a fire was lighted; a herald, with sound of trumpet, proclaimed
that the Company of Jesus was relieved of all that had been said against
it and that these papers were false, calumnious, impious and scandalous;
they were cast by the executioner into the flames and then the box and
the procession wended their way solemnly back to the Dominican College
of San Tomas. The effect of the demonstration, however, was somewhat
marred by the populace believing that the box contained the bones of a
misbelieving Jew, and accompanying the procession with shouts of "Death
to the dogs!" and other pious ejaculations.
[Sidenote: _General Utility_]
Espino was arrested and incarcerated--not for the last time for, in
1643, he boasted that he had been imprisoned fifteen times for his
attacks on the Jesuits. Roales was more fortunate; he was a chaplain of
Philibert of Savoy; his pamphlet had been printed in Milan and he was
safe in Rome, but a printer who had issued an edition in Saragossa was
arrested and presumably sent to the galleys, and a Dominican Fray
Cañamero, who had circulated the three pamphlets, was ordered to be
arrested but seems to have saved himself by flight. Still the
irrepressible conflict continued and the Inquisition was kept busy in
prosecuting offenders and suppressing obnoxious utterances. It even
construed its duty so rigidly that it condemned a memorial of the
unfortunate creditors who suffered by the bankruptcy, in 1645, of the
Jesuit College of San Hermengildo in Seville, when some three hundred
depositors lost four hundred and fifty thousand ducats, and were
struggling to rescue the remaining assets from the hands of the
Jesuits.[845]
The Granada tribunal did not pause to enquire as to its jurisdiction
when, in May 1646, owing to the scarcity of wheat, there were
bread-riots and the mob had control of the city. It summoned all the
grain-measurers and porters, under pain of excommunication, to appear
before it on a matter of importance. By examining them, considerable
stores of hidden corn were revealed; the corregidores registered it and
the price was fixed at forty-two reales.[846] This was volunteer action
but, in 1648, when a pestilence was raging in Valencia, the tribunal was
called upon to maintain the quarantine at one of the city gates. The
king, on February 1, 1649, notified the Suprema that the pest had ceased
in Valencia, but that it was violent at Cádiz, San Lucar and other
places, and urged continued vigilance, to which the Suprema replied that
it had, since April, done its full duty, but that the municipal
officials were very negligent, and it asked him to order them to do
their share.[847] Apparently the Inquisition was relied upon for
quarantine work. As lately as July 2, 1818, the Suprema wrote to all the
tribunals that the plague had appeared at Tangier and threatened Spain
with the most terrible of calamities. The king had ordered energetic
precautions, in which all branches of the Government must coöperate,
and it was no time for hesitation or scruples. The tribunals were
therefore instructed to keep watch on the officials of all departments
and see that they did their duty and, if they could devise more
effective measures, they were invited to make suggestions.[848]
The unlimited interference of the Inquisition with matters pertaining to
episcopal supervision is seen in two or three cases tried by the Madrid
tribunal. May 5, 1656, it sentenced the priest, Francisco Pérez Lozano,
to exile for a year from various places for his share in founding a
confraternity with what were called "statutos execrables." February 6,
1688, Juan Moreno de Piedrola, a priest of the Congregation of San
Salvador, who proposed to establish a congregation, in the rules of
which the tribunal discovered censurable propositions, was ordered to
surrender all the papers and not to discuss it in word or writing and
was exiled until he should have permission to return, with warning that
otherwise he would be prosecuted with the full rigor of the law. As he
was not required to abjure even _de levi_, it shows that there was no
suspicion of heresy involved. Then, in 1697, Fray Juan Maldonado, of the
Order of San Juan de Dios, had three years of exile for preaching, in
the church of his convent at Ciudad Real, a sermon characterized as
burlesque and scandalous, though there is no hint of its being in any
way heretical.[849]
[Sidenote: _General Utility_]
This perpetual intrusion into all manner of affairs, irrespective of
heresy rather increased towards the last. In 1788, Antonio López was
prosecuted in Valencia for selling rosaries with bones made of clay as
relics. In 1789, Andrés Joáñez, a coachman, for a conversation on a
superstitious subject. In 1791, the Carmelite Fray Bonifacio de San
Pablo, for attempting to print a satirical paper; Josef de la Rosa, in
Cordova, for carrying a consecrated wafer in a relic-bag; Vicente
Felerit, in Valencia, for a "vain observance." In 1795, Don Miguel
Catalá, fiscal in Buñol and Josef Sánchez Masquifa, a scrivener, were
prosecuted for using, in drafting testaments, the words "diversos
atributos," when alluding to the Trinity. In 1799, Juan Rodríguez, a
priest in Santiago, for assisting and performing ceremonies in a
mock-marriage. In 1808, Josef Várquez de la Torre, a scrivener of
Valencia, for drawing a deed of separation between spouses. In 1818, in
Valencia, Vicente Maicas, priest of Cedrillos, for not wanting his
parishioners to die in the Franciscan habit.[850] As all these cases
presuppose denunciation, they illustrate the popular estimate of the
all-embracing powers of the Inquisition and the espionage under which
every Spaniard lived.
In fact, there was scarce anything in which the Inquisition did not feel
itself authorized to intervene. The latitude with which inquisitors
construed their own powers is manifest in their assuming to issue
licences to hunt in prohibited places, sometimes for their own benefit
and sometimes for that of others. This was an abuse which the Suprema
strove to correct by forbidding it in 1527, but it was so persistent
that the prohibition had to be repeated in 1530 and again in 1566.[851]
As the Inquisition was supreme within its jurisdiction and claimed the
right to define the extent of its powers, there was no one to call it to
account for their arbitrary exercise. If any other body in the State
felt that its rights were invaded, the only recourse was to the
sovereign and we have seen how, under the Hapsburgs, the crown, with
scarce an exception, decided in its favor.
BOOK IX.
CONCLUSION.
CHAPTER I.
DECADENCE AND EXTINCTION.
The Inquisition may be said to have reached its apogee under Philip IV.
We have had ample opportunity to see how that pious monarch yielded to
its aggressiveness, until it became a virtually independent organization
within the State, obeying the royal mandates or not, as best suited its
convenience, and engaged in almost perpetual controversies with the
other branches of the government, while the king, with rare exceptions,
submitted to its exigencies. It is true that, in his financial distress,
he compelled the restitution of a small part of the confiscations and
that he asserted the royal prerogative of making and unmaking
inquisitors-general and of appointing members of the Suprema but, when
once he had exercised the power, his appointees acted in independence.
It would not be easy to imagine a more complete assertion of
irresponsible authority than the sudden arrest of Villanueva--of a
leading minister in the absence of the sovereign, at a time of the
utmost confusion, when nothing would have been risked by delay, save
perhaps that the sovereign might have refused assent. Yet not only did
Philip condone this but he threw himself into the persecution of his
favorite with such ardor that he could scarce restrain himself from
risking a rupture with the Holy See in defence of the Holy Office. Under
the disastrous regency of Maria Ana of Austria and the reign of Carlos
II, the royal authority almost disappeared and, although this gave such
men as Nithard and Valladares opportunity to assert still further the
independence of the Inquisition, it also enabled Don John of Austria to
banish Nithard and the other governmental departments to emulate its
disregard of the royal authority. There was an omen of the future when
they united, in 1696, in the Junta Magna, to protest against the
encroachments of the Inquisition and to demand its withdrawal into its
proper limits, although by dextrous management the attempt was baffled.
THE BOURBONS.
With the advent of the Bourbon dynasty a new element entered into the
political organization of Spain. The absolutism of Louis XIV had
embraced the Church as well as the State, and the Gallican theories as
to the power of the Holy See were encouraged in order to assure the
headship of the crown. It was inevitable that Philip V and his French
advisers should entertain very different views as to the relations
between the king and the Inquisition from those which had been current
for a century. Even at the height of the War of Succession, we have seen
how Philip, in the affair of Froilan Díaz, intervened as master and
regulated the relations between the inquisitor-general and the Suprema,
how he undertook to reform the Inquisition and how, in many ways he
curbed its audacity. But for a court intrigue, working through Philip's
uxoriousness, Macanaz might have succeeded in his project of rendering
the Inquisition wholly subordinate to the crown, and though the
vindictiveness of the Holy Office inflicted on him life-long punishment
for the attempt, this did not prevent the continued assertion of the
royal supremacy, as we have had occasion to see in repeated instances
and in many different directions.
[Sidenote: _PHILIP V_]
Philip's assertion of the royal prerogative, however, by no means
implied any lack of zeal for the faith and, as long as the Inquisition
confined itself to its duties of exterminating heresy, it had his
cordial support. Frequent allusions have been made above to its renewed
activity during the period following the close of the War of Succession.
Full statistics are lacking, but in sixty-four autos, between 1721 and
1728, there appeared nine hundred and sixty-two culprits and effigies,
of whom one hundred and fifty-one were relaxed.[852] That this met his
hearty approbation is manifested by the letter which he addressed,
January 14, 1724, to his son Luis, when abdicating in his favor. In this
the exhortations breathing a lofty morality are accompanied with earnest
injunctions to maintain and protect the Inquisition, as the bulwark of
the faith, for to it is attributable the preservation of religion in all
its purity in the states of Spain, so that the heresies which have
afflicted the other lands of Christendom, causing in them ravages so
deplorable and horrible, have never gained a foothold there.[853]
Small-pox cut short the reign of Luis to seven months, after which
Philip was obliged to resume the weary burden, till death released him,
July 9, 1746, and if, during this later portion of his government, the
Inquisition was less busy, this may safely be attributed to flagging
energies and lack of material and not to any restraint on the part of
the sovereign. The punishment which he allowed it to inflict on Belando,
for the history of his reign of which he and his queen, after careful
scrutiny, had accepted the dedication, shows how untrammelled was its
exercise of its recognized functions.
Yet Philip unwittingly started the movement that was ultimately to
undermine the foundations on which the Inquisition rested. He brought
with him from France the conviction that the king should be the patron
of letters and learning, and he had the ambition to rule over a people
of culture. He aroused the slumbering intellect of Spain by founding the
Academies of Language and of History and of Medicine, the Seminary of
the Nobles, and the National Library, and he replaced for Catalonia the
University of Lérida by that of Cervera. Notwithstanding the vigilance
of the censorship, it was impossible that the awakening intelligence of
the nation, thus stimulated, should not eagerly grasp at the forbidden
fruit of modern philosophism, all the more attractive in that it had to
be enjoyed in secret. Fernando VI, from 1746 to 1759, followed his
father's example, in encouraging the spread of culture. Carlos III was
even more energetic in urging the enlightenment of his subjects, and
thus there was gradually formed a public, few in numbers, it is true,
but including the statesmen in power, which had lost the old Spanish
conception that purity of faith was the first essential, and regarded
the Inquisition as an incumbrance, save in so far as it might be used
for political ends. The Inquisition still inspired fear, and the case of
Olavide shows that these opinions had to be cherished in secret, but
the number who entertained them was indicated when the bonds of society
were loosened and the national institutions crumbled in the earthquake
of the Napoleonic invasion.
Possibly the diffusion of this modern rationalistic spirit, insensibly
affecting even those opposed to it, may partly explain the rapidly
diminishing activity of the Inquisition. The great tribunal of Toledo,
in the fifty-five years, from 1740 to 1794 inclusive, despatched but
fifty-seven cases, or an average of but one a year.[854] This cannot be
attributed to a lack of culprits, for bigamy, blasphemy, solicitation,
sorcery and similar offences, which furnished so large a portion of the
penitents of old, were as rife as ever. The fact is, that the officials
were becoming indifferent and careless, except in the matter of drawing
their salaries. When, on May 22, 1753, the priest Miguel de Alonso
García was to be sentenced in the audience-chamber with closed doors and
in the presence of the officials, it happened that there were no
witnesses of the solemnity because none of the officials were to be
found in the secreto.[855]
[Sidenote: _CARLOS III_]
The _personnel_ of the Inquisition was visibly deteriorating and
consequently forfeiting the respect of the community. There had long
been complaint of the insufficiency of the salaries, which had remained
stationary while the purchasing power of money had greatly diminished,
and there had been no reduction in the official staffs to correspond
with the dwindling business. Thus, in spite of the _empleomanía_
characteristic of the nation, and of the privileges and exemptions
attached to official position, it became increasingly difficult to fill
the offices properly. As early as 1719, the inquisitors of Barcelona
complained to the Suprema of the trouble they experienced getting people
to serve, on account of lack of desire for the offices and the absence
of advantage accruing from them.[856] In 1737 we find that the Toledo
tribunal had neither a commissioner nor a notary in Guadalajara, the
capital of a province which, in 1787, numbered 112,750 souls.[857] In
1750, a writer deplores that the stipend of eight hundred ducats is
insufficient to support the dignity of an inquisitor, so that the
inquisitor-general is not always able to make fitting nominations. This
necessitates the appointment of calificadores to examine the doctrines
brought under review, resulting in the indefinite prolongation of cases,
and also in lack of vigilance to suppress the errors perpetually
propagated in books; when the calificadores are not paid, they are slow
in their work and, to escape paying them, many things which ought to be
referred to them are passed over.[858] That the respect felt for the
Inquisition should diminish under these circumstances was inevitable and
altogether, at this period, it presents the aspect of an institution
which had survived the causes of its creation and was hastening to its
end. Yet it had exercised too powerful an influence in moulding the
Spanish character for it to disappear when its mission was accomplished,
and we shall see how violent were the struggles attendant upon its
dissolution.
Meanwhile it dragged on its existence under constantly increasing
limitations. Fernando VI, it is true, gave it obstinate support in its
quarrel with Benedict XIV over the works of Cardinal Noris, but he dealt
a severe blow when, in 1751, he deprived of the _fuero_ the officials of
the tribunal of Lima. Carlos III, who succeeded in 1759, came from
Naples with the highest ideals of royal supremacy, coupled with less
respect for ecclesiastical claims than was current in Spain; he
surrounded himself with advisers such as Roda, Campomanes, Aranda and
Floridablanca, who were more than suspected of leanings to modern
philosophism, and his reign of benevolent despotism was marked with a
series of measures designed to diminish or abolish the privileges of
inquisitorial officials, to repress abuses and to tame arrogance. The
complete control which he assumed over its functions is exhibited in the
rules imposed, in 1768, on its censorship and, in 1770 and 1777, on its
jurisdiction over bigamy, when he ordered it in future to limit its
operations to the suppression of heresy and not to embarrass the royal
courts. The theory thus developed of the relations between the crown and
the Holy Office is formulated in a consulta of the Council of Castile,
November 30, 1768: "The king as patron, founder and endower of the
Inquisition, possesses over it the rights inherent in all royal
patronage.... As father and protector of his vassals, he can and ought
to prevent the commission of violence and extortion on their persons,
property and reputation, indicating to ecclesiastical judges, even in
their exercise of spiritual jurisdiction, the path pointed out by the
canons, so that these may be observed. The regalías of protection and of
this indubitable patronage have established solidly the authority of the
prince, in issuing the instructions which he has deigned to give to the
Holy Office acting as an ecclesiastical tribunal."[859] Under such
conditions, he was quite content with its existence and, when Roda
suggested its suppression and presented various documents to show that
this had been discussed under Charles V, Philip II and Philip V, he
merely replied "The Spaniards want it and it gives me no trouble."[860]
In fact, the time had not arrived for such drastic measures. The Abbé
Clément reports a conversation with Aranda, October 29, 1768, in which
the count warned him that it was necessary to speak of the Inquisition
with great reserve, for people imagined that all religion depended on
it; it was, in truth, an obstacle to all improvement, but time would be
required to deal with it, and he advised Clément to allude to it only to
Roda and Campomanes.[861]
* * * * *
With the accession, in 1788, of Carlos IV, there opened for Spain a new
and disastrous epoch. Timid, irresolute, indolent, he had fallen
completely under the influence of his wife María Luisa, an energetic and
self-willed woman. Until 1792 he kept in office Floridablanca, who was
succeeded for a short time by Aranda, and then power was grasped by
Manuel Godoy, subsequently known as Prince of Peace. Cadet of an obscure
family of Badajoz, he had entered the royal body-guard, where he
attracted the attention of the queen, whose favored lover he was
universally believed to be, as well as the favorite of her husband. He
speedily rose to the highest dignities and became omnipotent; although a
court intrigue occasioned his dismissal in 1798, he was restored in
1800, remaining arbiter of the destinies of Spain, until the "Tumult of
Lackeys," at Aranjuez, in 1808, directed against him, caused the
abdication of Carlos in favor of his son Fernando VII. Light-headed,
selfish, vain and unscrupulous, he was mainly responsible for the
misfortunes which overwhelmed his country and from which it may be said
not to have as yet recovered.
[Sidenote: _ALTERED FUNCTIONS_]
The outbreak of the French Revolution gave a new importance to the
Inquisition. When the seductive theories of the French philosophers
were preached as the foundation of practical politics, overturning
thrones and threatening monarchical institutions with the doctrines of
the social compact, the sovereignty of the people and the universal
brotherhood of man, the Holy Office might claim that, as the foundations
of social order were based on religion, its labors were essential for
the safety of the State, while the State recognized that it was the most
available instrumentality for the suppression and exclusion of the
heresies of liberty and equality.
In this tumultuous breaking down of the standards of thought and belief,
in this emergence of a new order on the ruins of the old, the functions
of the Inquisition adapted themselves to the exigencies of the times, in
other ways besides the increased sharpness and vigilance of its
censorship. I have frequently had occasion above to refer to an
alphabetical list of all the persons denounced to the various tribunals,
from 1780 to 1820, some five thousand in all, and this, taken as a
whole, affords us an insight into the change in the objects of
inquisitorial activity. Judaism and Islam and Protestantism no more
claim its attention. The Church is no longer threatened by enemies from
without; what it has to dread is revolt among its own children.
Three-fifths of the denunciations are for "propositions," largely among
the cultured classes, including a fair proportion of ecclesiastics.
Their precise errors are not stated, but doubtless many were Jansenistic
and more were hostile to the claims of the Church Militant and to the
absolutism of the monarchy. There is also a large class of cases,
virtually unknown a century earlier, significant of a vital change in
the intellectual tendencies of the nation, calling for the special
vigilance of the Inquisition. Popular indifferentism is revealed in the
numerous prosecutions for inobservance or contempt of church
observances. Even more noteworthy are those for outrages on images of
Christ, the Virgin and the saints, and even for sacrilegious treatment
of the Venerable Sacrament. In many other ways was manifested the
weakening of the profound and unquestioning veneration which, for three
centuries, had been the peculiar boast of the Spanish race. On the other
hand it is not a little remarkable that there are very few cases of
offences against the Inquisition, for, in all these forty years, there
are but nine that can in any way be included in this class.[862]
At the same time, when we recall the old-time punctilious enforcement of
profound respect, it argues no little decline in popular awe when, in
1791, a simple parish priest, Dr. Joseph Gines of Polop (Alicante) dared
to address the Valencia tribunal in terms of violent indignation at the
conduct of its secretary, Dr. Pasqual Pérez, when on a mission to
collect testimony. He tells the tribunal that, if it does not dismiss
Pérez it will sink greatly in his estimation, and his whole epistle
breathes a spirit of independence and equality wholly impossible at an
earlier time.[863] It was not without reason that, in 1793, the
tribunal, in appealing for increase of salaries, complained of the
decline in popular respect for its officials, which it attributed to
their meagre pay and the curtailment of their privileges.[864] How
completely the tribunals had lost their former energy is indicated by
the abandonment, about this time, as we have seen (Vol. II, p. 98) of
the publication of the Edict of Faith, which of old had been so
impressively solemnized and had proved at once so fruitful a source of
denunciations and so powerful a means of maintaining popular awe.
[Sidenote: _POLITICAL FUNCTIONS_]
Coincident with this, and as though the Inquisition felt that it was on
trial before the people, there was a marked tendency towards
amelioration of procedure, coupled with benignity in treatment of
culprits. Allusion has been made above to the introduction of the
_audiencia de cargos_, through which the accused was afforded an
opportunity of knowing what was alleged against him, and frequently of
clearing himself without the disgrace of arrest and trial. There is a
very suggestive instance of merciful consideration, in 1791, in the case
of Josef Casals, a weaver, charged before the Barcelona tribunal with
the utterance of shocking blasphemies in the church of Santa Catalina. A
century earlier he would have been arrested and, on proof of the
offence, he would have been sentenced to scourging or the galleys. In
place of this Padre Miguel Alberch was instructed to report secretly as
to the character of the accused, which he did to the effect that Casals
had regular certificates of confession, but was of quick temper and
occasionally broke out in curses. Then a commission was issued to
Alberch to summon Casals and to represent to him the gravity of his
offence and of the punishment incurred, and the mercy shown by the
tribunal, which would keep a watch on him.
In pursuance of this the good priest reported that Casals was deeply
repentant and desired to be heard in confession, which he had
permitted.[865] The case is trivial, but of such was the bulk of
inquisitorial business, and the temper in which it was conducted was of
no little import to the people at large.
Partly this may be attributable to the modern softening of manners,
partly to a growing sense of insecurity, and partly to the inertia which
led the officials to shun all avoidable labor. It was becoming more and
more a political machine and neglectful of the objects of its creation.
During the inquisitor-generalship of Manuel Abad y la Sierra, from 1792
to 1794, we are told that, in all Spain, there were but sixteen
condemnations to public penance. Abad was an enlightened man; he thought
of assimilating the inquisitorial procedure to that of other courts of
justice, and consulted with Llorente as to the formula for such a
reform, but conservatism, however relaxed in practice, was not ready for
total abandonment of the old methods. His design became known: he was
forced to resign and was relegated to the Benedictine monastery of
Sopetran, under a charge, as we have seen of Jansenism.[866]
In fact, an absolute renunciation of the old procedure would have
largely deprived the Inquisition of its usefulness in its new political
functions, to which its established methods were peculiarly adapted.
When, in 1796, a powerful intrigue was formed for the overthrow of
Godoy, the Inquisition was naturally selected as the only weapon with
which to strike at the favorite. Three friars were found to denounce
him, because for eight years he had avoided confession and communion,
and because of his scandalous relations with women. Had
Inquisitor-general Lorenzana been resolute, Godoy's fate might have been
that of Olavide, but he was timid. Archbishop Despuig of Seville and
Bishop Muzquiz, then of Avila, who were the leaders of the plot, vainly
assured him that Godoy's arrest would insure success; he refused to act
except under orders from Pius VI. Despuig then prevailed upon his
friend Cardinal Vincenti to induce the pope to write to Lorenzana
reproaching him with his indifference to a scandal so hurtful to
religion. It chanced that Vincenti's letter, inclosing that of Pius, was
intercepted at Genoa by Napoleon who, to ingratiate himself with Godoy,
forwarded to him the correspondence. Godoy assured his position and took
a mild revenge, which does credit to his sense of humor, by sending
Lorenzana, Despuig and Muzquiz into honorable exile as special envoys to
condole with the pope on the occupation of his territories by the
French.[867] In fact, Capmany describes the Inquisition of the period as
devoted to the unholy work of an Inquisition of State, in order to
preserve its imperilled existence, and its ministers as trembling at the
sight of the infamous favorite, when they had the honor of joining the
crowd of his flatterers.[868]
Inquisitors might reasonably feel anxious as to their position, for
projects of reform were in the air. Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos, the
most conspicuous Spaniard of his time for intellectual ability and
rectitude, had been exiled from the court, in 1790, and had betaken
himself to his native Gijon, where for years he labored in founding the
Instituto Asturiense. Desiring to endow it with a library of scientific
works, he applied, in 1795, to Lorenzana for licence to import them, but
Lorenzana refused on the ground that there were good Spanish writers,
rendering recourse to foreigners unnecessary, especially as foreign
books had corrupted the professors and students in various
universities--a process of reasoning applied to works on physics and
mineralogy, which Jovellanos characterized as a _monumento de barbarie_.
The attention thus drawn to his library aroused the suspicions of the
commissioner of the Inquisition, Francisco López Gil, priest of Somió,
who secretly entered it one day while the owner was taking his siesta.
Word was brought to him and he hastened thither, finding Gil examining a
volume of Locke. Jovellanos turned him out, telling him that his office
rendered him an object of suspicion and forbidding him to enter the
building without permission. Gil became a spy and was probably the
author of a denunciation which cost Jovellanos years of captivity.[869]
[Sidenote: _JOVELLANOS_]
He was suddenly recalled from his exile, November 23, 1797, to assume
the position of minister of Gracia y Justicia, where he speedily gave
the Inquisition abundant cause to dread him. A competencia had arisen
between the Seville tribunal and the episcopal authorities over a
confessional which it had ordered to be closed. The matter came before
Carlos, who instructed Jovellanos to obtain the opinion of Tavira,
Bishop of Osma, which he duly transmitted to the king, February 15,
1798, with a Representation arguing that the time had come to restore to
the bishops their old jurisdiction in matters of faith; the object for
which the Inquisition was established had been attained; its processes
were cumbrous and inefficient, and its members were ignorant. The
jurisdiction of the bishops could alone furnish an effective remedy for
existing evils--a jurisdiction more natural, more authoritative, more
grateful to the people, and fuller of humanity and gentleness, as
emanating from the power granted to them by the Holy Ghost, wherefore
the authority that had been usurped from them should be restored.
Moreover he took into consideration the condition of the Holy See,
deprived of its temporalities by the French Republic. Everything, he
said, pointed to a fearful schism at the death of Pius VI, in which case
each nation must gather itself under its own pastors. The papacy would
endeavor to retain the cumbrous and costly organization of the curia, by
increasing its exactions, and it would have to be reduced to the
functions exercised during the first eight centuries.[870]
Jovellanos was a sincere Catholic, but after utterances so hardy it was
not difficult for his enemies to convince the king that he was inclined
to heresy and atheism. Godoy had grown alarmed at the ascendancy which
he was acquiring over Carlos; his fellow-minister Caballero conspired
with the Inquisition, and on August 15th the king signed the dismissal
of his minister, whose official life had endured but eight months. A
fortnight later a royal _carta orden_ declared it to be his unalterable
will that the Holy Office should permanently enjoy its jurisdiction and
prerogatives without modification.[871] Jovellanos returned to Gijon
where he lived in dignified retirement for two years and a half. His
offence however had been too great for pardon and his influence was
still dreaded. An anonymous denunciation of the flimsiest character was
laid before Carlos, describing him as having abandoned all religion and
as being at the head of a highly dangerous party, engaged in schemes for
the overthrow of Catholicism and the monarchy. The pusillanimous king
adopted the course suggested to him by the secret accuser. Before
day-break of March 13, 1801, the house of Jovellanos was surrounded by a
troop of horse; he was aroused from sleep, his papers were seized and
transmitted to the ministry of State; he was kept in his house
_incomunicado_ for twenty-four hours, then thrust into a coach and
carried, still incomunicado, across Spain to Barcelona and thence to
Majorca, where he lay in prison until the abdication of Carlos, in 1808,
and the consequent troubles effected his release.[872]
[Sidenote: _ATTEMPTED SUPPRESSION_]
A case nearly parallel was that of Mariano Luis de Urquijo, who followed
Jovellanos in the ministry of Gracia y Justicia. He had no cause to love
the Inquisition. Among his youthful indiscretions was a translation of
Voltaire's _Mort de César_, which led the Inquisition to make secret
investigations, resulting in the conviction that he was dangerously
infected with philosophism. He was about to be arrested when Aranda, who
recognized his merit, recommended him to the king and, in 1792, he was
appointed to a position in Aranda's office. The Inquisition had learned
respect for royal officials and substituted for a decree of arrest a
summons to an _audiencia de cargos_, ending in a sentence of light
suspicion of sharing philosophic errors, absolution _ad cautelam_, some
secret penances and the suppression of his book, though his name was
considerately omitted in the edict of prohibition. His official
promotion was rapid and, at the age of thirty, he found himself a
minister, employing his power, possibly with more zeal than discretion,
in encouraging enlightenment and all humanizing influences. On the death
of Pius VI he incurred Ultramontane hostility by inducing the king to
sign the decree of September 5, 1799, restoring to the bishops the right
of issuing dispensations--a measure which provoked long and bitter
discussion. This was followed, as we have seen above (Vol. III, p. 504)
October 11th by a sharp rebuke to the Inquisition, ordering it to
confine itself to its proper duties and, soon afterwards, he presented
to Carlos for signature, a decree suppressing the institution and
applying its property to purposes of charity and public utility. This
was too bold a measure; the king shrank from the responsibility and
Urquijo only succeeded in concentrating upon himself clerical hostility,
which was reinforced by the enmity of First Consul Bonaparte, whose
policy he had opposed. Godoy, who commenced to fear him as a rival, and
who was irritated by some imprudent jests, withdrew his support. A
triple prosecution was commenced against him by three inquisitors and he
fell in December, 1801. He was sent to Pampeluna, to the cell which had
been occupied by Floridablanca, and there he lay for a year or two,
deprived of fire, lights, books and writing materials. He was liberated
under surveillance; in 1808 he refused to accompany Carlos and Fernando
to Bayonne, but he attended the so-called Junta of Notables there,
accepted the French domination, served as secretary of State and, with
the other _Afrancesados_, sought refuge in France in 1813, dying in
Paris in 1817.[873]
It is evident from all this that the opposition to the Inquisition was
gathering strength and boldness, but that its foundations were too deep
and solid to be overthrown without an upheaval that should shatter the
social fabric. A well-intentioned, but somewhat absurd, attempt was made
by Grégoire, Constitutional Bishop of Blois, whose fervent Catholicism,
combined with equally fervent liberalism, was of service so essential in
piloting the Church of France through the storms of the Revolution. In
1798, he addressed a letter to the Spanish inquisitor-general, urging
the suppression of the Inquisition and universal toleration, as a
preliminary to the redemption of Spain from despotism, and to enabling
it to take its place among the nations which had recovered their rights.
This was translated into Spanish and some thousands of copies were
circulated; it may have made some secret converts but the only visible
result was to elicit several replies. One of these, by Pedro Luis
Blanco, told Grégoire, with more or less courtesy, to mind his own
business; assured him that, if the Inquisition was suppressed, Spain
would remain as intolerant as ever, and asserted that no Spaniard had
ever imagined that coercion could be employed to obtain conversion. It
was probably this, mingled with some skilful adulation of the king and
his ministers, that procured for the author, in 1800, the episcopate of
Leon.[874] There was also an anonymous "_Discurso historico-legal_,"
evidently by a well-informed inquisitor, probably Riesco of Llerena. It
was the most rational history of the Inquisition that had as yet
appeared, although it assures us that experience showed that penitents
were most grateful for the benevolence shown to them, and that it was a
tribunal full of gentleness, the centre of benignity, compassion and
mercy, but also of justice.[875]
A third was by Lorenzo Villanueva, a calificador of the Valencia
tribunal, whose defence of the reading of Scripture has been alluded to
above. It was published under the transparent pseudonym of Lorenzo
Astengo, his maternal name. In view of his subsequent career it is not
without interest to see his indignation at the advocacy of toleration
and his dithyrambic denunciation of the horrors to which philosophism
has led in the assertion of human liberty. The first portion of his work
is an impassioned and rhetorical defence of persecution, supported by
ample learning. Vigorous is his denunciation of the modern theories of
philosophism and the rights of man--since original sin, he asks, what
rights has man save to slavery, to punishment, to ruin? So he combats at
length the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, which he
stigmatizes as a delirium, a dream and a deception. Yet he admits that
the Inquisition is not perfect--that it has committed errors through
imprudence, through ignorance, through excessive zeal, and through human
frailty, and that it has prevented the development of some things which
would aid the prosperity of the nation.[876] If, as has been asserted,
he expected a bishopric in reward for this, he was disappointed.
[Sidenote: _POLITICAL UPHEAVAL_]
Thus, at this period the Inquisition was inert and its very existence
seemed to be threatened, but its potentiality of evil was undiminished.
It was still an object of terror to all inclined to liberal opinions,
and it was regarded by the Conservatives as the bulwark protecting the
land from the deluge of modern thought.
Feeble though it might be in appearance we shall see how prolonged and
stubborn was the contest required for its final suppression.
THE CORTES.
The treaty of Fontainebleau, October 27, 1807, dismembered Portugal, of
which Godoy was to have the southern portion, as an independent kingdom,
and the King of Etruria (Ferdinand of Parma) the northern portion.
Napoleon sent Junot with an army which, accompanied by Spanish troops,
speedily overran the land, when Junot issued a decree declaring Portugal
annexed to the empire. Simultaneously French armies, under Dupont and
Moncey, entered Spain and occupied the strongholds of Pampeluna,
Barcelona, Figueras and other places. Murat was sent as commander in
chief and took possession of Madrid. The Tumult of Aranjuez drove Godoy
from power and, on March 19, 1808, Carlos abdicated in favor of his son,
Fernando VII, whose accession was received with enthusiasm by the
nation. Beauharnais, the French ambassador at Madrid, and Murat,
however, refused to recognize him; Carlos protested to Napoleon that his
abdication had been coerced; by various devices, Carlos and his queen,
Fernando and his younger brother Don Carlos, were induced to go to
Bayonne to lay their respective pretensions before the emperor. There,
on May 5, Fernando was obliged to renounce the crown to his father and
the latter to transfer it to Napoleon. Carlos and María Luisa were sent
to Compiègne and Fernando to Valençay, where he remained until 1814.
Meanwhile in Madrid, Murat, under instructions, ordered the Infantes
Antonio and Francisco, the remaining members of the royal family, to
depart for Bayonne on May 2d. The indignant populace rose, with the aid
of a few officers and soldiers and, after a gallant struggle against the
veterans of Napoleon, the insurrection was repressed with heavy
slaughter, followed by numerous executions. The heroic "Dos de Mayo" was
the signal of resistance to the invader and, in a few weeks, Spain was
aflame; the desperate six years' War of Liberation was commenced, and
the nation showed what a people could do when abandoned by its incapable
and cowardly rulers. With a soldier's contempt for an unorganized
militia, Napoleon pursued his plans. Joseph was called from Naples to
occupy the vacant throne and was acknowledged as king by an Assembly of
Notables, convoked at Bayonne in June, which transformed itself into
Córtes and adopted a Constitution.
This summary of the situation is necessary to an understanding of the
position of the Inquisition. Whatever may have been the views of some of
the local tribunals, the central body accepted the intrusive domination
and was _afrancesado_--a term which, to the patriots, became one of the
bitterest contempt. The Constitution of Bayonne provided that, in
Spanish territories, no religion save Roman Catholicism should be
tolerated. Raimundo Ethenard, Dean of the Suprema, was a member of the
Córtes and, when he took the oath of allegiance to Joseph, the latter
assured him that Spain was fortunate in that the true faith alone was
there honored. When the Constitution was under consideration, two
members, Pablo Arribas and José Gómez Hermosilla, advocated the
suppression of the Inquisition, but Ethenard and his colleagues of the
Inquisition, Galarza, Hevia Noriega and Amarillas, successfully opposed
it, although they admitted that, in conformity with public opinion, its
procedure should be made to conform to that of the spiritual courts in
criminal cases.[877]
[Sidenote: _SUPPRESSION BY NAPOLEON_]
The Inquisition thus deemed itself safe and earnestly supported the
Napoleonic government. After the sanguinary suppression of the Madrid
rising on May 2d, it made haste to counteract the impression produced
and, on the 6th, the Suprema addressed a circular letter to the
tribunals, describing the affair as a scandalous attack by the lowest
mob on the troops of a friendly nation, who had given no offence and had
observed the strictest order and discipline. Such demonstrations, it
said, could only result in turbulence and in destroying the confidence
due to the government, which was the only one that could advantageously
direct patriotic energies. The tribunals were therefore instructed to
impress on their subordinates, and the commissioners and familiars in
their districts, the urgent necessity of unanimously contributing to the
preservation of public tranquillity. This communication was received by
the Valencia tribunal on May 9th and, on the 11th, it was read to the
assembled officials, calificadores, notaries and familiars of the city,
with exhortations to comply strictly with its commands--action which
was doubtless taken by the other tribunals.[878]
The Inquisition thus remained in Madrid under the protection of the
French arms, but its freedom of action was curtailed. The Abate
Marchena, a fine classical scholar, but revolutionary and tinctured with
atheism, had abandoned Spain early in the French Revolution and had
barely escaped the guillotine during the Terror. He returned, in 1808,
as Murat's secretary, when the Inquisition thought fit to arrest him,
but Murat sent a file of grenadiers and forcibly released him.[879] When
Napoleon reached Madrid, December 4, 1808, the capitulation granted to
the city provided that no religion but Catholicism should be tolerated
but, on the same day, he issued a decree which suppressed the
Inquisition, as contrary to sovereignty and to civil authority, and
confiscated its property to the crown.[880] The Inquisitor Francisco
Riesco stated, during the debate in the Córtes of Cádiz, that this
sudden decree was motived by the refusal of the members of the Suprema
to take the oath of allegiance to the new dynasty, but this is evidently
incorrect, as most of them had already done so at Bayonne, and Arce y
Reynoso, who resigned his inquisitor-generalship, adhered to the French
and accompanied them on the final evacuation. Riesco further asserts
that Napoleon ordered them to be imprisoned, but they escaped and
scattered to places of safety.[881] The Inquisition was thus left in an
anomalous position and without a head, for correspondence with Pius VII
was cut off, and neither his acceptance of Arce's resignation nor his
delegation of powers to a successor could be had. The Junta Central,
which was striving to govern the country, attempted to fill the vacancy
with Pedro de Quevedo y Quintano, Bishop of Orense, but he could obtain
no papal authorization and made no attempt to act. It was argued that
during a vacancy the jurisdiction continued with the Suprema, but this
was denied and it remained an open question.[882]
During the period which followed, the tribunals maintained their
organization and exercised their functions after a fashion, when not
prevented by the French occupation. Thus when the invaders reached
Seville, February 1, 1810, the Inquisition was suppressed, but its
members took refuge in Ceuta. Valencia remained in operation until the
city was captured by Suchet, in 1811, while Barcelona at one time
transferred itself to Tarragona. Activity was intermittent and, in the
excitement of that stirring time, there was little energy for the
prosecution of heresy while, even when the enemy had withdrawn, in many
cases the buildings had been ruined. The Valencia record shows that the
total number of cases brought before all the tribunals in 1808 was 67;
in 1809, 22; in 1810, 17; in 1811, 25; in 1812, 1; in 1813, 6. Probably
few of these cases were regularly heard, if we may judge from that of
Don Vicente Valdés, captain of volunteers who, in 1810, was denounced to
the Valencia tribunal for blasphemous propositions. October 27th it was
ordered that, in view of the circumstances, a fitting occasion should be
awaited for the _audiencia de cargos_ demanded by the fiscal--a
postponement which proved to be protracted for it was not until 1816
that he was tried.[883] Still, where the Inquisition itself was
concerned it could act swiftly and effectively. In 1809 the French took
possession of Santiago. Felipe Sobrino Taboada, professor of civil law
in the university, was acting as police-magistrate and, by order of the
director-general of police, he issued a proclamation exhorting the
people to lay down their arms and praising the suppression of the
Inquisition. When the French retired, the university refused to readmit
him to his chair. He obtained a decision of the tribunal of Public
Safety of Coruña re-establishing him and then the Inquisition arrested
him, without the prescribed preliminary formalities, and kept him for
five months in the secret prison. Afterwards he was allowed to keep his
house as a prison and, when finally the bounds were enlarged to the
province of Galicia, it was with the condition that he would accept no
public office.[884]
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _ASSEMBLING OF THE CORTES_]
The Junta Central, which had endeavored to govern, amid much opposition
from the particularist tendencies of the provincial juntas, retired to
Cádiz when the French occupied Andalusia.
On January 1, 1810, it issued a convocation for the assembling of
Córtes, and on the 31st it dissolved, after appointing a Regency and
imposing on it the duty of convoking the Córtes by March 1st. The
Regency delayed until, forced by the pressure of public opinion, on June
18th it published a decree ordering elections where they had not been
held, and summoning the deputies to meet in August in Isla de Leon, now
San Fernando, near Cádiz. Suffrage was virtually universal and, in the
letters of convocation, the nation was called upon to assemble in
general Córtes "to establish and improve the fundamental constitution of
the monarchy," while the commissions of the delegates empowered them to
decide all points contained in the letters and all others, without
exception or limitation.[885] The Córtes accordingly assumed the title
of Majesty, as embodying the will of the people and occupying the throne
of the absent sovereign. When they were opened, September 24th, about a
hundred deputies were present, two-thirds of whom were elected by the
provinces not occupied by the French armies, and the rest selected in
Cádiz from among natives of the unrepresented districts, including the
colonies, then more or less in open revolt, while, as the vicissitudes
of the war permitted, deputies came straggling in from districts
unrepresented at first. As a whole, the body fairly reflected existing
public opinion. The Liberals numbered forty-five, and the majority
consisted of ecclesiastics, men of the privileged classes and government
employees.[886] It was an unavoidably hazardous experiment, this sudden
wrenching of Spain from the old moorings and launching it on the
tempestuous waters of modern ideas, under the conduct of men without
training or experience in self-government. Grave mistakes were
inevitable and their constructive work was idealistic and doomed to
failure--a failure bound to result in blood and misery. At the moment,
however, there were no misgivings and the Córtes were regarded as the
salvation of the nation.[887]
The oath administered to the members bound them to maintain Catholicism
as the exclusive religion of Spain and to preserve for their beloved
monarch Fernando VII all his dominions. Their first act was to adopt a
series of five resolutions, offered by an ecclesiastic, Diego Muñoz
Torrero, rector of the University of Salamanca, of which one provided
that the Regency should be continued as the executive power, on taking
an oath recognizing the sovereignty of the nation as embodied in the
Córtes and promising obedience to their enactments. Rather than do this,
the Regency proposed to break up the Córtes, but the threatening aspect
of the people and the army caused a change of heart, and that same night
they took the oath, except the implacable conservative Quevedo Bishop of
Orense, who resigned both from the Regency and the Córtes. His
resignations were accepted but he was forced to take the oath required
of all prelates and officials before he was allowed to retire to his
diocese. It was evident that the Córtes and the Regency could not pull
together; on October 28th, the latter was dismissed, its membership was
reduced from five to three and a new Regency was installed with which
the Córtes could work in harmony.[888]
[Sidenote: _THE INQUISITION ASSAILED_]
After settling relations with the other departments of the State, the
first attention of the Córtes was given to the freedom of the press. Two
days after the opening session the subject was introduced and referred
to a committee; no time was lost, a decree was reported October 8th, and
on the 18th, in spite of the reclamations of the opposition, it was
passed by a vote of 68 to 32. This was regarded as a preliminary attack
on the Inquisition, which was thus deprived by implication of the
function of censorship. Some members desired this to be explicitly
stated, giving rise to a hot debate in which Inquisitor Riesco, a member
of the Córtes, pleaded in vain for some honorable mention of the Holy
Office. There was also indignation excited by the provision subjecting
prohibition by the bishops to revision by the secular power, which was
subversive of the imprescriptible rights of the Church, whose judgements
are final.[889] If this was really the first move in a campaign against
the Inquisition, it was not unskilful, for it set at liberty the pens
which had hitherto been restrained. At once there arose a crowd of
pamphleteers and journalists, not only in Cádiz but throughout Spain,
who attacked the institution unsparingly, raising a clamor which showed
how severe had been the repression. Sturdy defenders were not lacking
and the wordy war was vigorously waged. The two most prominent champions
on either side were Antonio Puigblanch, who, under the pseudonym of
Natanael Jomtob, issued a series of pamphlets, collected under the title
of "La Inquisicion sin Máscara" or "The Inquisition unmasked," and Padre
Maestro Fray Francisco Alvarado, a Dominican of high repute for learning
and eloquence, whose letters under the name of _El Filósofo Rancio_ or
Antiquated Philosopher, continued for two years to keep up the struggle
against all the innovations of the Liberals.[890]
Puigblanch was no exception to the general rule that those who attacked
the Inquisition were careful to profess the highest veneration for the
faith and in no way to advocate toleration. His work commences with an
eloquent description of religion as the foundation of all civil
constitutions and Catholicism as the noblest adornment of enlightenment
and liberty, the only question being whether the Inquisition is the
fitting institution for its protection. He is careful to maintain to the
last his abhorrence of heresy and his desire for its suppression, which
he proposes to effect by reviving episcopal jurisdiction under certain
limitations.[891] With all this his denunciation of the Inquisition was
unsparing, and he had ample store of atrocities with which to justify
his attacks, although there was unfairness in attributing to it, in the
nineteenth century, the cruelties which had stained its previous career.
Alvarado was a man of extensive learning, but of little claim to the
title of philosopher, whether antiquated or modern. Though his methods
were not such as to make converts, they were well adapted to stimulate
those of his own side, for he was an effective partizan writer, fluent,
sarcastic, often coarse, vulgar and vituperative, using assertion for
argument and indifferent as to truth. The chief value of his letters is
the flood of light which they shed on the conservative attitude of the
time, which explains much in the subsequent vicissitudes of Spain.
Philosophers, he says, are wolves, robbers and devils, monsters who
cannot be regarded without horror, enlighteners who are nothing but
ignoramuses and cheats and emissaries sent by hell. To seek to undermine
popular confidence in the priesthood he holds to be a crime greater than
the crucifixion of Christ. The ferocity of his intolerance shows how
little Spanish churchmen had changed since the days of Torquemada. As to
the relations of religion and the State, he assumes that the only
function of the civil power is to punish him who offends the faith; the
Catholic religion is as intolerant as light is of darkness, or as truth
is of falsehood, and this intolerance distinguishes it from all
religions invented by man. Repeatedly and savagely he proclaims that
burning is the proper remedy for unbelief, and he tells his adversaries
that, if they wish free thought, they may go to England or to the United
States, but in Spain what they had to expect was the _quemadero_.[892]
Such advocacy could only render the Liberals more eager to accomplish
their work.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _THE CONSTITUTION OF 1812_]
While this controversy was contributing to the greater enlightenment or
obscuration of public opinion, the Córtes were engaged in framing a
Constitution. The committee entrusted with this task had a majority of
conservatives, including several ecclesiastics, but these were quite
willing to circumscribe the royal power, while seeking to extend the
privileges of the Church, and all the members signed the project as
presented.[893] It commenced by asserting the sovereignty of the nation,
which had the exclusive right to establish its fundamental laws, and
could never be the patrimony of any person or family, and it affirmed
that the religion of the nation was, and always forever would be the
Catholic, Apostolic, Roman, the only true one, which the nation protects
by wise and just laws, and prohibits the exercise of any other.[894]
This apparent concession to intolerance was denounced, when too late, as
a trap, for it placed in the hands of the representatives of the nation
the power of deciding what the wise and just laws should be for the
protection of religion. Be this as it may, the Córtes were resolved that
there should be no refusal to accept the new framework of government.
In secret session of March 16, 1812, it was decreed that whosoever
should refuse to swear to it should be declared an unworthy Spaniard and
be driven from Spain, and measures were taken to have it read in every
parish church, where the assembled people should swear to obey it and to
be faithful to the king. As the French armies were driven back, the
Spanish commanders made it their first duty to see this ceremony
performed, and where there was opposition, chiefly arising from the
priests, force was employed. A priest of the Cádiz cathedral who alluded
to it slightingly as a _libelo_, or little book, was prosecuted, and the
irreconcileable Bishop of Orense, who refused to take the oath, was
exiled and declared to be an unworthy Spaniard. As a whole, however, it
was enthusiastically accepted as the dawn of a new era, though we may
well question how many of those who took the oath comprehended the
purport of its three hundred and eighty-four articles, covering all the
complicated minutiæ of institutions based on an entirely new conception
of the relations between the Government and the governed.[895]
It was inevitable that, in the effort to create a new Spain, the fate of
the Inquisition should be involved, especially as its disabled condition
invited attack. That a struggle was impending had long been evident to
all parties, and that this was felt to be decisive as to the character
of the future institutions of Spain is seen in the tenacity with which
it was fought. The Inquisition was the conservative stronghold, to be
defended to the last, after all the outer defences had been abandoned,
and the deep roots which it had established are manifested by the
tactics required for its overthrow, and by the fact that the contest was
the bitterest and the most prolonged in the career of the Córtes, which
had so unceremoniously converted Spain from absolutism to liberal
constitutionalism.
Some preparation had been made for the struggle by the conservatives.
The first Regency had endeavored to reconstitute all the old Councils of
the monarchy and, on June 10, 1810, Ethenard, the Dean of the Suprema,
addressed to it a memorial requesting it to order the reassembling of
the Suprema, to which it responded, August 1st, by issuing such an
order. The scattering of the members precluded this, but, when the early
acts of the Córtes foreshadowed what was to come, on December 18th,
Ethenard and Amarillas asked the new Regency to appoint as a member the
fiscal Ibar Navarro and as fiscal the Madrid inquisitor, Galarza, thus
enabling the body to resume its functions. As no attention was paid to
this, an old member, Alejo Jimenez de Castro, who had been exiled to
Murcia by Godoy, was brought from his retreat to Cádiz, so as to have
material for a quorum present. The occasion to utilize this offered
itself in January, 1811. The freedom of the press enabled Don Manuel
Alzaibar to start "La Triple Alianza," a frankly irreligious journal, in
the second number of which there appeared an article ridiculing the
immortality of the soul and suffrages for the dead. On January 28th
advantage was taken of this to ask the Córtes to refer it to the
Inquisition for censure, which was carried in spite of opposition. The
next day the editors asked that the action be rescinded, leading to a
three days' debate in which the Inquisition was denounced as a
mysterious, cruel and antichristian tribunal and, for the first time,
its suppression was openly advocated. President Dou ruled that the
inculpated journal must be passed to the Junta de Censura, for he
understood that the Inquisition was not organized, when he was told that
there were three members of the Suprema in Cádiz, and that the Seville
tribunal was in Ceuta. This raised larger questions and the whole matter
was referred to a committee so composed that it was expected to report
against re-establishment, but it withheld its report for a long time and
meanwhile there were other moves in the game.[896]
[Sidenote: SKIRMISHING FOR POSITION]
On May 16th, the members of the Suprema notified the Regency that they
were prepared to act, in response to which the minister of Gracia y
Justicia expressed his surprise that they should meet as a tribunal,
without awaiting the decision of the questions submitted to the Córtes,
and forbade them from forming a Council until they should have express
authorization.[897] The matter was brought before the Córtes and
Inquisitor Riesco vainly argued in favor of the Inquisition; his motion
was referred to the committee, where it lay buried in spite of repeated
calls for a report. The Liberals insisted that a National Council would
be a more suitable body for the mature consideration of such questions;
their object was solely to gain time, which was fighting on their side,
but the idea was seriously entertained, even by the clericals. The
committee on the external discipline of the clergy reported, August 22d,
in favor of the project, with a list of matters to be submitted to the
Council; on August 28th the Córtes ordered it to be convoked, but
postponed consideration of the details. Other matters supervened and no
further action was taken, which Archbishop Vélez assures us saved Spain
from a schism, or at least from a scandal for, under the proposed
program, it would have proved a second Synod of Pistoja. In fact, the
journals naturally took a lively interest in the matter; thousands of
pamphlets, we are told, appeared everywhere, pointing out the abuses and
relaxed morals of the clergy and demanding a reform that was assumed to
be necessary. It is easy to imagine that the ecclesiastical authorities
were willing to let the project drop.[898]
The position of the Liberals was greatly strengthened by the adoption of
the Constitution, in March 1812, as was abundantly shown in the next
debate on the Inquisition. This was provoked by the publication, in
April 1812, of the "Diccionario crítico-burlesco" of Gallardo, librarian
of the Córtes, in which all that the mass of the population held sacred
was treated with ridicule, neither refined nor witty. It created an
immense sensation and was brought before the Córtes, which enabled
Riesco, on April 22d, to call for the immediate presentation of the
report of the committee on the Inquisition, for which the Córtes had
been waiting for more than a year. The committee, in fact, had reached a
decision, in July 1811, in favor of the Inquisition, and we are not told
why it had been held back, for four members had concurred in it and only
Muñoz Torrero had dissented. The report was accordingly presented,
re-establishing the Suprema in its functions, with certain limitations
as to political action; the debate was hot, but the Liberals had taken
precautions to avoid a direct vote on the question. In a decree of March
25th, creating a supreme court of justice, they had introduced an
article suppressing the tribunals known by the name of councils, and
they pointed out that this embraced the Suprema, which gave abundant
opportunity for discussion. Even more important was a decision of the
Córtes, adroitly planned for this especial purpose, December 13, 1811,
during the discussion on the Constitution, that no propositions bearing
on the fundamental law should be admitted to debate without previous
examination by the committee on the Constitution, to see that it was not
in opposition to the articles thereof. It was notorious that
inquisitorial procedure was in direct contravention of the
constitutional provisions to secure justice in criminal prosecutions
and, after an exciting struggle and a postponement, the report was
referred to the committee on the Constitution. The Conservatives were so
exasperated that they proposed to dissolve the Córtes, and have a new
election under the Constitution, to which the Liberals agreed, except
that the new body should meet October 1, 1813, and the existing one
should remain in session until then. Archbishop Vélez tells us that the
policy of the Liberals was to gain time, for their personal safety was
at stake if the Inquisition was re-established, nor does he recognize
how monstrous was the admission involved in this, for an institution
that could prosecute and punish legislators for their official acts was
virtually the despot of the land. Doubtless the deputies felt this, and
that the struggle was one for life or death.[899]
The flank of the enemy was thus skilfully turned. The committee on the
Constitution was in no haste to report and occupied itself with
collecting documentary material from the archives wherever accessible.
Its conclusion was that the Inquisition was incompatible with the
fundamental law and, on November 13th, it voted on a project for
establishing "Tribunales protectores de la fe" in compliance with the
constitutional requirements. Finally, on December 8th two reports were
presented. That of the minority by Antonio Joaquin Pérez, who had been
an inquisitor in Mexico, argued that the abuses of the Inquisition were
not inherent; that its procedure conflicted with the Constitution and
should therefore be modified accordingly.[900]
[Sidenote: _DEBATE ON SUPPRESSION_]
The majority report was a very elaborate document, tracing the treatment
of heresy from the earliest times, and pointing out the irreconcileable
incompatibility of the Inquisition with the constitutional provisions
securing to the citizen the right of open trial and opportunities for
defence. It concluded with the draft of a decree "Sobre Tribunales
protectores de la fe," in which such caution was deemed necessary that
the Inquisition was nowhere mentioned. It appealed to the national
pride, by simply reviving a law of the Partidas concerning the
prosecution of heretics by bishops, it prescribed the form and procedure
of the episcopal tribunals, the punishment by lay judges of those
pronounced guilty, and it provided for appeals as well as for the
suppression of writings contrary to religion. The reports were duly
received and January 4, 1813, was appointed for the opening of
debate.[901]
Probably no measure before the Córtes provoked so bitter and prolonged a
debate. The Liberals had secured the advantage of position, and the
Conservatives felt that the issue involved the whole future relations of
Church and State. There was a preliminary skirmish on December 29th,
when Sánchez de Ocaña asked for a postponement until the bishops and
chapters could be consulted, on the ground that the Church was an
independent body.[902] This was voted down and the debate was opened on
the designated day, January 4, 1813. The friends of the Inquisition had
not been idle; the Church organization was in good working order, and
the Córtes were bombarded with memorials from bishops, chapters,
ayuntamientos, military officers, towns and provinces, showing how
active the canvass had been during the two years in which the subject
had been mooted. Yet the Conservatives could only procure, out of the
fifty-nine sees existing in Spain, protests from two archbishops and
twenty-four bishops, the authorities of three vacant sees, and four
chapters of those occupied by the French; while the number from officers
of the army was not large, those from towns were but a small fraction of
the municipalities, and only two provinces--Alava and Galicia--spoke
through their authorities. Muñoz Torrero declared, January 10th, that
every mail brought him mountains of letters in favor of the Inquisition
and Toreno spoke of the reclamations that came in, showing how the
signers of protests had been coerced.[903]
The debate was vigorous and eloquent on both sides but, while it took
the widest range, embracing the history of the Church from apostolic
times and the career of the Inquisition from the thirteenth century, the
parliamentary question in reality turned upon the power of the Córtes to
intrude in the sphere of ecclesiastical jurisdiction. After discussion
lasting until January 22d on the preliminary propositions, the decree
itself was taken up, article by article and strenuously fought over;
amendments were presented and accepted or rejected, as they strengthened
or weakened the measure, and hot resistance was offered to the clauses
allowing appeals from the judgements of the bishops, which the Liberals
supported on the ground that all the members who opposed the Inquisition
had been denounced throughout Spain as heretics, and the safety of the
citizen demanded that episcopal definition of heresy should not be
final. The debate was prolonged until February 5th, when the last
article was agreed to, and the decree in its final shape did not differ
essentially from that proposed by the Committee. There was no formal
suppression of the Inquisition; it was simply declared to be
incompatible with the Constitution and the law of the Partidas was
revived. This latter had been agreed to on January 26th by a vote of 92
to 30, and that date was assumed as determining the extinction of the
Inquisition, regulating the disposition of its property. It is not worth
while to recapitulate the details of the episcopal tribunals and the
provisions for censorship, as the bishops took little interest in the
exercise of their restored jurisdiction, though there are traces of
their action in one or two cases--that of Joaquin Ramírez, priest of
Moscardon and of Doña Antonia de la Torre of Seville.[904] During the
seventeen months that elapsed until the re-establishment of the
Inquisition, we are told that, although the land was full of Freemasons
and other anticatholics, the bishops had no occasion to arrest any one,
for no informers or accusers came forward--doubtless because they
realized that their names would be known.[905]
[Sidenote: _THE INQUISITION SUPPRESSED_]
In the debate several ecclesiastics distinguished themselves by their
able advocacy of the measure, among whom were pre-eminent Muñoz Torrero,
who had borne a leading part in drafting the decree; Lorenzo Villanueva,
who had defended the Inquisition against Bishop Grégoire, and Ruyz
Padron, parish priest of Valdeorras in Galicia and formerly of the
Canaries. How they fared in consequence we shall see hereafter. On the
other side one of the most vehement was Pedro Inguanzo, who was rewarded
with the see of Zamora, and ultimately with the archbishopric of Toledo.
The Liberals had won their victory by unexpectedly large majorities,
indicating how great had been the advance in public opinion. No measure
had created such intensity of feeling on either side; the rejoicing of
the Liberals was extravagant, and the anger of the clerical party may be
gauged by the declamation of Archbishop Vélez, who is as vehement as
though the whole fate of Christianity was at stake--the abomination of
desolation, he declares, seemed to have established its throne in the
very house of God.[906] The clergy had already been alienated by various
measures adverse to their interests--the appropriation of a portion of
the tithes to the support of the armies, the escheating of the property
of convents destroyed by the invaders, or having less than twelve
inmates, and the abrogation of the Voto de Santiago, a tax on the
agriculturists of some provinces based on a fraudulent tradition of a
vow made by Ramiro I, when, by the aid of St. James, he won the
suppositious victory of Clavijo.[907] The debate on the Inquisition had
heightened the reputation of the Córtes as an irreligious body, and it
was not wise to inflame still further the hostility of a class wielding
such preponderating influence, but the Liberals, intoxicated by their
victory, proceeded to render the measure as offensive as possible to the
defeated clericals.