The case of Castel Fabri might have passed unnoticed, like thousands of

others, had it not chanced to bring into collision with the Inquisition

the lector of the convent of Carcassonne. Bernard Délicieux was no

ordinary man, in fact a contemporary assures us that in the whole

Franciscan Order there were few who were his equals. Entering the Order

about 1284, his position of lector or teacher shows the esteem felt for

his learning, for the Mendicants were ever careful in selecting those to

whom they confided such functions; and, moreover, we find him in

relations with the leading minds of the age, such as Raymond Lully and

Arnaldo de Vilanova. His eloquence made him much in request as preacher;

his persuasiveness enabled him to control those with whom he came in

contact, while his enthusiastic ardor prompted him to make any

sacrifices necessary to a cause which had once enlisted his sympathies.

He was no latitudinarian or time-server, for when the split came in his

own Order he embraced, to his ruin, the side of the Spiritual

Franciscans, with the same disregard of self as he had manifested in his

dealings with the Inquisition. He was no admirer of toleration, for he

devoutly wished the extermination of heresy, but experience and

observation had convinced him that in Dominican hands the Inquisition

was merely an instrument of oppression and extortion, and he imagined

that by transferring it to the Franciscans its usefulness would be

preserved while its evils would be removed. Boniface VIII., as we have

seen, about this time replaced the Franciscan inquisitors of Padua and

Vicenza with Dominicans for the purpose of repressing similar evils, and

in the jealousy and antagonism between the two orders the converse

operation might seem worth attempting in Languedoc. In the hope of

alleviating the sufferings of the people, Bernard devoted himself to the

cause for years, incurring obloquy, persecution, and ingratitude. Those

whom he sought to serve allowed him to sell his books in their service,

and to cripple himself with debt, while the enmities which he excited

hounded him relentlessly to the death. Yet in the struggle he had the

sympathies of his own Order which everywhere throughout Languedoc

manifested itself the enemy of the Dominican Inquisition. Already, in

1291, Franciscans in Carcassonne had endeavored to intervene in cases of

heresy, and had been sharply reproved by Philippe le Bel at the instance

of the Inquisitor Guillaume de Saint-Seine. In 1298 they had supported

the appeal of the men of Carcassonne to Boniface VIII., and throughout

the whole of Bernard's agitation the Franciscan convents are seen to be

rallying-points of the opposition. It is there that Bernard preaches his

fiery sermons; it is there that meetings are held to plan resistance.

During the troubles in Carcassonne Foulques de Saint-Georges went with

twenty-five men to the Franciscan convent to cite the opponents of the

Inquisition. The friars would not admit them, but tolled the bell and an

angry crowd assembled, while those inside the convent assailed them with

stones and quarrels, and they were glad to escape with their lives.[82]

Vainly the inquisitors complained to the Franciscan prelates of Bernard

as an impeder of the Holy Office. The form of a trial would be gone

through, and the offender would be furnished with letters attesting his

innocence. The Dominicans asserted that Franciscan zeal was solely

caused by jealousy; the Franciscans retorted that their friends were the

special objects of inquisitorial persecution. King Philippe's confessor

was a Dominican, Queen Joanna's a Franciscan, and the two courtly friars

took part, for and against the Inquisition, with a zeal which rendered

them important factors in the struggle. The undying hostility between

the two Orders always led them to opposite sides in every question of

dogma or practice, and this was one which afforded the amplest scope to

bitterness.[83]

The _coup-de-main_ executed on the so-called heretics of Albi, in

December, 1299, and the early months of 1300, had excited consternation

too general for the matter to be passed over. King Philippe's quarrel

with Boniface was breaking out afresh, and he might not be averse to

making his subjects feel that they had a protector in the throne. With

the advice of his council an investigation was ordered, and confided to

the Bishops of Béziers and Maguelonne, but the inquisitors arrogantly

and persistently refused to allow the secrets of their office to be

invaded. This was not calculated to remove popular disquiet, and in 1301

Philippe sent to Languedoc two officials armed with supreme powers,

under the name of Reformers. As the royal authority extended and

established itself, special deputies for the investigation and

correction of abuses were frequently despatched to the provinces. In the

present case those who came to Languedoc perhaps had for their chief

business the arrest of the Bishop of Pamiers, accused of treasonable

practices, but the colorable pretext for their mission was the

correction of inquisitorial abuses. One of them, Jean de Pequigny,

Vidame of Amiens, was a man of high character for probity and sagacity;

the other was Richard Nepveu, Archdeacon of Lisieux, of whom we hear

little in the following years, except that he quietly slipped into the

vacant episcopate of Béziers. He must have done his duty to some extent,

however, for Bernard Gui tells us that he died in 1309 of leprosy, as a

judgment of God for his hostility to the Inquisition.[84]

The Reformers established themselves at Toulouse, where Foulques de

Saint-Georges had been inquisitor since Michaelmas, 1300, and speedily

gathered much damaging testimony against him, for he was accused not

only of unduly torturing persons for purposes of extortion, but of

gratifying his lusts by arresting women whose virtue he failed otherwise

to overcome. Thither flocked representatives of Albi, with the wives and

children of the prisoners, beseeching and imploring the representatives

of the king for justice, and promising revelations if they would issue

letters of safety to those who would give information--for the terror

inspired by the Inquisition was such that no one dared to testify

concerning it unless he was assured of protection against its vengeance.

The Bishop of Albi came also to justify himself, and on his return to

his episcopal seat he was welcomed with a manifestation of the feeling

entertained for him by his flock, whom the coming of the Reformers

encouraged in the expression or their sentiments. When his approach was

announced a crowd of men and women rushed forth from the gates to meet

him with shouts of "Death, death, death to the traitor!" It may

perhaps be doubted whether, as reported, he bore the threats and insults

with patience akin to that of Christ, ordering his followers to keep

their weapons down; certain it is that he was roughly handled, and had

difficulty in safely reaching his palace. A conspiracy was formed to

burn the palace, in order, during the confusion, to liberate the

prisoners, but the hearts of the conspirators failed them and the

project was abandoned. Even more menacing was the action of a number of

the chief citizens, who bound themselves by a notarial instrument to

prosecute him and Nicholas d'Abbeville in the king's court. As a

consequence, the bishop's temporalities were sequestrated, and

eventually the enormous fine of twenty thousand livres stripped him of a

portion of his ill-gotten gains for the benefit of the king, who was

bitterly reproached by Bernard Délicieux for thus preferring money to

justice. Bernard de Castanet retained his uneasy seat until 1308, when,

seeing under Clement V. no prospect of better times, he procured a

transfer to the quieter see of Puy. One of the earliest signs of the

revulsion under John XXII. was his advancement, in December, 1316, to

the Cardinalate of Porto, which he held for only eight months, his death

occurring in August, 1317.[85]

The Reformers, meanwhile, had sent for Bernard Délicieux, who was then

quietly performing his duties as lector in the convent of Narbonne. He

must already have made himself conspicuous in the affair of Castel

Fabri, and was evidently regarded as a desirable ally in the impending

struggle. According to his own story he advised Pequigny to let the

Inquisition alone, as experience had shown that effort was useless; but

on being called again to Toulouse on some business connected with the

Priory of la Daurade, and having to visit Paris in connection with the

will of Louis, Bishop of Toulouse, it was arranged, at Pequigny's

suggestion, that he should accompany a deputation which the citizens of

Albi were sending to the king to invoke his active intervention. The

court was at Senlis, whither they repaired, and there came also Pequigny

to justify himself, and Frère Foulques with several Dominicans, eager to

establish the innocence of the Inquisition.[86]

The battle was fought out before the king. Bernard urged the suspension

of the inquisitors during an investigation, or that the Dominicans

should be permanently declared ineligible while awaiting final action by

the Holy See. Supported by Frère Guillaume, the king's Dominican

confessor, Foulques preferred charges against Pequigny, but could

furnish no proofs. Pequigny retorted with accusations against Foulques,

and a commission, consisting of the Archbishop of Narbonne and the

Constable of France, was appointed to hear both sides. After due

deliberation, it reported in favor of Pequigny, and the king took the

unheard-of step of removing the inquisitor. He at first requested this

of the Dominican Provincial of Paris, who possessed the power to do so,

but that official called together a chapter, which contented itself with

appointing an adjunct, and ordering Foulques to retain office till the

middle of the following Lent, in order to complete the trials which he

had already commenced. This gave Philippe great offence, which he

expressed in the most outspoken terms in letters to his chaplain and to

the Bishop of Toulouse, whom he bitterly reproached for advising

acceptance of the terms. He did not content himself with words, for

simultaneously, December 8, 1301, he wrote to the bishop, the Inquisitor

of Toulouse, and the seneschals of Toulouse and Albi, stating that the

imploring cries of his subjects, including prelates and ecclesiastics,

counts, barons, and other distinguished men, convinced him that Foulques

was guilty of the charges preferred against him, including crimes

abhorrent to the human mind. He afflicted the people with numerous

exactions and oppressions; he was accustomed to commence proceedings

with torture inconceivable and incredible, and thus compel confession

from those whom he suspected, and when this failed he suborned witnesses

to testify falsely. His detestable excesses had created such general

terror that a rising of the people was to be apprehended unless some

speedy remedy was had. Some further unavailing opposition was made to

Foulques's removal, but not much was gained by the appointment of his

successor, Guillaume de Morières, who had previously succeeded him in

the Priory of Albi. Foulques was gratified with the important Priory of

Avignon, and when he subsequently died in poverty at Lyons he was

regarded by his Order almost in the light of a martyr.[87]

Philippe had not contented himself with getting rid of Foulques, but had

endeavored to introduce reforms which are interesting not only as a

manifestation of the royal supremacy which he assumed, but also as the

model of all subsequent endeavors to curb the abuses of the Inquisition.

It was natural that this should take the shape of reviving the episcopal

power which had become so completely suppressed. Firstly, the prison

which the crown had built on its own land in Toulouse for the use of the

Inquisition was to be placed under the charge of some one selected by

both bishop and inquisitor, and in case of their disagreement by the

royal seneschal. The inquisitor was deprived of the power of arbitrary

arrest. He was obliged to consult the bishop, and when they could not

agree the question was to be decided by a majority vote in an assemblage

consisting of certain officials of the cathedral and of the Franciscan

and Dominican convents. Arrests were only to be made by the seneschal,

after these preliminaries had been observed, except in case of foreign

heretics who might escape. The question of bail was to be settled in the

same way as that of arrest. In no case was either bishop or inquisitor

entitled to obedience when acting individually, for, as the king

declared, "We cannot endure that the life and death of our subjects

shall be abandoned to the discretion of a single individual, who, even

if not actuated by cupidity, may be insufficiently informed."

Inadequate as these reforms eventually proved, they had an excellent

temporary effect. For a time the Inquisition was paralyzed, and arrests

which had been taking place every week were suddenly brought to an end,

for during 1302 these provisions were embodied in a general Ordonnance,

and the legislation of 1293 protecting the Jews was repeated. At the

same time Philippe was careful to manifest due solicitude for the

suppression of heresy, for he published anew the severe edict of St.

Louis; and on the appointment of Guillaume de Morières to the

Inquisition of Toulouse he wrote to the seneschal instructing him to

place the royal prisons at the inquisitor's disposal, to pay him the

customary stipend, and to aid him in every way until further orders.[88]

While the new regulations may have promised relief elsewhere, they gave

little comfort at Albi, the inquisitorial proceedings of whose bishop

had given rise to the whole disturbance. Its citizens were still

languishing in the prison of the Inquisition of Carcassonne, and a

numerous deputation of both sexes was sent to the king, accompanied by

two Franciscans, Jean Hector and Bertrand de Villedelle. Again Bernard

Délicieux was present, having this time been opportunely chosen to

represent the Order on a summons from Philippe for consultation on the

subject of his quarrel with Pope Boniface. They all followed the king to

Pierrefonds and then to Compiègne. He gave them fair words, promised a

speedy visit to Languedoc, when he would settle matters, and consoled

them with a donation of one thousand livres, which he could well afford

to do, for the confiscated estates of the prisoners were in his hands,

and were never released.[89]

All this, of course, gave little satisfaction; nor were the people

placated by the removal of Nicholas d'Abbeville, for he was succeeded in

the Inquisition of Carcassonne by Geoffroi d'Ablis, who was as

energetic and unsparing as his predecessor, and who brought royal

letters, dated January 1, 1303, ordering all officials to render him the

customary obedience. Popular excitement grew more and more threatening,

and as Albi had no local inquisitors of its own, being within the

jurisdiction of the tribunal of Carcassonne, the discontent vented

itself on the Dominicans, who were regarded as the representatives of

the hated tribunal. On the first Sunday in Advent, December 2, 1302,

when the friars went as usual to preach in the churches they were

violently ejected and assailed with cries of "Death to the traitors!"

and deemed themselves at length fortunate in being able to regain their

convent. This state of things continued for several years, during which

they scarce dared to show themselves in the streets, and were never

secure from insult. All alms and burial-fees were withdrawn, and the

people refused even to attend mass in their church. The names of Dominic

and Peter Martyr were erased from the crucifix at the principal gate of

the town, and were replaced with those of Pequigny and Nepveu, and of

two citizens who were leaders in the disturbances--Arnaud Garsia and

Pierre Probi of Castres.[90]

The prisoners of Albi were still as far as ever from liberation, and

Bernard Délicieux urged Pequigny to come to Carcassonne and consider

their case on the spot. In the summer of 1303 he did so, and was met by

a large number of the people of Albi, men and women, praying him to

liberate them. While he was investigating the subject he came upon the

instrument of pacification between Nicholas d'Abbeville and the consuls

of Carcassonne in 1299. This was communicated to the people by Frère

Bernard in a fiery sermon, and a knowledge of its conditions aroused

them almost to frenzy. Riots ensued in which the houses of some of the

old consuls and of those who were regarded as friends of the Inquisition

were destroyed; the Dominican church was assailed, its windows broken,

the statues in its porch overthrown, and the friars maltreated. To

violate the prisons of the Inquisition was so serious a matter that

Pequigny seems to have wished the backing of an enraged populace before

he would venture on the step: and when he resolved upon it he

anticipated resistance so confidently that with his privity Bernard

assembled fourscore men, with skilled mechanics, in the Franciscan

convent, ready to break open the jails in case of necessity. Their

services were not needed. Geoffroi d'Ablis yielded, and in August, 1303,

Pequigny removed the prisoners of Albi. He did not discharge them,

however, but merely transferred them to the royal prisons, and refused

to carry them to the king as Bernard advised. Possibly their treatment

for a while may have been gentler, but they derived no permanent

advantage from the movement. The grasp of the Inquisition was

unrelaxing. It obtained possession of them again, and we shall see that

it held them to the last.[91]

Meanwhile advantage was taken of the access obtained to them to procure

from them statements of the tortures which they had endured, and lists

were made of the names of those whom they had been forced to accuse as

heretics. These were circulated throughout the land and excited general

alarm, the Franciscans being especially active in giving them publicity.

On the other hand, the inquisitor Geoffroi d'Ablis was equal to the

emergency. He cited Pequigny to appear and stand trial for impeding the

Inquisition, and on his refusal excommunicated him, September 29; and as

soon as word could be carried to Paris he was published as excommunicate

by the Dominicans there. This audacious act brought all parties to a

sense of the nature of the conflict which had sprung up between Church

and State. The consuls and people of Albi addressed to the queen an

earnest petition beseeching her to prevail upon the king not to abandon

them by withdrawing the Reformers, who had already done so much good and

on whom depended their last hope. A fruitless effort also was made to

prevent the publication of the excommunication. At Castres, October 13,

Jean Ricoles, stipendiary priest of the Church of St. Mary, published it

from the pulpit, as he was bound to do, and was promptly arrested by the

deputy of the royal viguier of Albi and carried to the Franciscan

convent, where he was threatened and maltreated, and the friars used

every effort to persuade him to withdraw it. This in itself was a grave

violation of clerical immunity, and it was soon recognized that such

proceedings were worse than useless. Pequigny's authority was paralyzed

until the excommunication should be removed, and this could only be done

by the man who had uttered it, or by the pope himself.[92]

The prospect of relief was darkened by the election, October 21, of

Benedict XI., himself a Dominican and necessarily pre-disposed in favor

of the Inquisition. Special exertions evidently were required unless all

that had been gained was to be lost, and, at the best, litigation in the

Roman court was a costly business. Pequigny had appealed to the pope,

and, October 29, he wrote from Paris to the cities of Languedoc asking

for their aid in the persecution which he had brought upon himself in

their cause. Bernard Délicieux promptly busied himself to obtain the

required assistance. By his exertions the three cities of Carcassonne,

Albi, and Cordes entered into an alliance and pledged themselves to

furnish the sum of three thousand livres, one half by Carcassonne and

the rest by the other two, and to continue in the same proportions as

long as the affair should last. After Pequigny's death they renewed

their obligation to his oldest son Renaud; but as the matter was much

protracted, they grew tired, and Bernard, who had raised some of the

money on his own responsibility, was left with heavy obligations, of

which he vainly sought restitution at the hands of the ungrateful

cities.[93]

The quarrel was thus for a time transferred to Rome. Pequigny went to

Italy with envoys from the king and from Carcassonne and Albi to plead

his cause, and was opposed by Guillaume de Morières, the Inquisitor of

Toulouse, sent thither to manage the case against him. Benedict was not

slow in showing on which side his sympathies lay. At Perugia, while the

pope was conducting the solemnities of Pentecost, May 17, 1304, Pequigny

ventured to enter the church. Benedict saw him, and, pointing to him,

said to his marshal, P. de Brayda, "Turn out that Patarin!" an order

which the marshal zealously obeyed. The significance of the incident was

not small, and after the death of both Benedict and Pequigny, Geoffroi

d'Ablis caused a notarial instrument recounting it to be drawn up and

duly authenticated as one of the documents of the process. The climate

of Italy was very unhealthy for Transmontanes. Morières died at Perugia,

and Pequigny followed him at Abruzzo, September 29, 1304, the

anniversary of his excommunication. Having remained for a year under the

ban for impeding the Inquisition, he was legally a heretic, and his

burial in consecrated ground is only to be explained by the death of

Benedict a short time before. Geoffroi d'Ablis demanded that his bones

be exhumed and burned, while Pequigny's sons carried on the appeal for

the rehabilitation of his memory. The matter dragged on till Clement V.

referred it to a commission of three cardinals. These gave a patient

hearing to both sides, who argued the matter exhaustively, and submitted

all the necessary documents and papers. At last, July 23, 1308, they

rendered their decision to the effect that the sentence of

excommunication had been unjust and iniquitous, and that its revocation

should be published in all places where it had been announced. Geoffroi

fruitlessly endeavored to appeal from this, which was the most complete

justification possible of all that had been said and done against the

Inquisition, emphasized by Clement's cutting refusal to listen to his

statements--"It is false: the land never wished to rebel, but was in

evil case in consequence of the doings of the Inquisition," while a

cardinal told him that for fifty years the people had been goaded to

resistance by the excesses of his predecessors, and that when a

corrective was applied they only added evil to evil.[94]

Benedict XI. had given other proofs of partisanship. It is true that in

answer to the complaints of the oppressed people he appointed a

commission of cardinals to investigate the matter, but there is no trace

of their labors, which were probably cut short by his death, July 7,

1304. No commissioners of his selection would have been likely to report

adversely to the Inquisition, for he manifested his prejudgment by

ordering the Minister of Aquitaine, under pain of forfeiture of office

and future disability, to arrest Frère Bernard without warning and send

him under sufficient guard to the papal court, as a fautor of heretics

and presumably a heretic. The leading citizens of Albi, including G. de

Pesenches the viguier and Gaillard Étienne the royal judge, who had

sought to aid Pequigny, were also involved in the papal condemnation.

The Minister of Aquitaine intrusted to Frère Jean Rigaud the execution

of the arrest, which he duly performed, June, 1304, in the convent of

Carcassonne, adding an excommunication when Bernard, encouraged by the

active sympathy of the people, delayed in obeying the papal summons. He

never went, and it is a curious illustration of Franciscan tendencies to

see that the minister absolved him from the excommunication, and that

the provincial chapter of his Order at Albi decided that he had done all

that was requisite, though perhaps Benedict's death in July had relieved

them from fears as to the immediate consequences of their contumacy.[95]

Meanwhile Philippe le Bel had at last fulfilled his promise to visit in

person his southern provinces and rectify on the spot the wrongs of

which his subjects had so long complained. He was expecting a favorable

termination to his negotiation with Benedict for the removal of the

excommunications launched by Boniface VIII. against himself and his

subjects and chief agents, a result which he obtained May 13, 1304, with

exception of the censure inflicted on Guillaume de Nogaret and Sciarra

Colonna. When, therefore, he reached Toulouse on Christmas Day, 1303, he

was not disposed to excite unnecessarily Benedict's prejudices. From

Albi and Carcassonne multitudes flocked to him with cries for redress

and protection, and Pequigny spoke eloquently in their behalf. The

inquisitors were represented by Guillem Pierre, the Dominican

provincial, while Bernard Délicieux was foremost in the debate. It was

on this occasion that he made his celebrated assertion that St. Peter

and St. Paul would be convicted of heresy if tried with inquisitorial

methods, and when the scandalized Bishop of Auxerre tartly reproved him,

he stoutly maintained the truth of what he had said. Friar Nicholas, the

king's Dominican confessor, was suspected of exercising undue influence

in favor of the Inquisition, and Bernard endeavored to discredit him by

accusing him of betraying to the Flemings all the secrets of the royal

council. Geoffroi d'Ablis, the Inquisitor of Carcassonne, moreover, was

ingratiating himself with Philippe at the moment by skilful negotiations

to bring about a reconciliation with Rome.[96]

Philippe patiently heard both sides, and recorded his conclusions in an

edict of January 13, 1304, which was in the nature of a compromise. It

recited that the king had come to Languedoc for the purpose of pacifying

the country excited by the action of the Inquisition, and had had

prolonged consultation on the subject with all who were entitled to

express an opinion. The result thus reached was that the prisoners of

the Inquisition should be visited by royal deputies in company with

inquisitors; the prisons were to be safe, but not punitive. In the case

of prisoners not yet sentenced the trials were to be carried to

conclusion under the conjoined supervision of the bishops and

inquisitors, and this co-operation was to be observed in the future,

except at Albi, where the bishop, being suspected, was to be replaced by

Arnaud Novelli, the Cistercian Abbot of Fontfroide. The royal officials

were strictly ordered to aid in every way the inquisitors and episcopal

ordinaries when called upon, and to protect from injury and violence the

Dominicans, their churches and houses.[97]

At Albi the change had the wished-for effect. No more heretics were

found and no further prosecutions were required. Yet the refusal of the

king to entertain any project of reform other than his previous one of

curbing the Inquisition with an illusory episcopal supervision was a

grievous disappointment. Men naturally argued that if the Dominicans had

done right they ought not to be insulted by the proposed episcopal

co-operation; and if they had done wrong they ought to be replaced. If

any change was called for, the projected one was insufficient. So many

hopes had been built upon the royal presence in the land, that the

result caused universal dismay, which was not relieved by Philippe's

subsequent action. When he visited Carcassonne he was urged to see the

unfortunate captives whose persecution had been the prominent cause of

the troubles, but he refused, and sent his brother Louis to look at

them. Worse than all, the citizens had designed to propitiate him and

demonstrate their loyalty by offering him some elaborate silver vessels.

These were yet in the hands of the gold-smiths of Montpellier when the

royal party came to Carcassonne, so they were sent after him to Béziers,

where the presentation was made, a portion to him and the rest to the

queen. She accepted the offering, but he not only rejected it, but, when

he learned what the queen had done, forced her to return the present.

This threw the consuls of Carcassonne into despair. Offerings of this

kind from municipalities to the sovereign were so customary and their

gracious acceptance so much a matter of course, that refusal in this

instance seemed to argue some most unfavorable intentions on the part of

the king, which was not unlikely, seeing that Elias Patrice, the leading

citizen of Carcassonne, had plainly told him when there that if he did

not render them speedy justice against the Inquisition they would be

forced to seek another lord, and when Philippe ordered him from his

presence the citizens obeyed Patrice's command to remove the decorations

from the streets. Imagining that he had been won over by the Dominicans

and that his protection would be withdrawn, the prospect of being

abandoned to the mercy of the Inquisition seemed so terrible that they

wildly declared that if they could not find another lord to protect them

they would burn the town and with the inhabitants seek some place of

refuge. In consultation with Frère Bernard it was hastily determined to

offer their allegiance to Ferrand, son of the King of Majorca.

The younger branch of the House of Aragon, which drew its title from the

Balearic Isles, held the remnants of the old French possessions of the

Catalans, including Montpellier and Perpignan. It had old claims to

much of the land, and its rule might well be hailed by the people as

much more welcome than the foreign domination to which they had been

unwillingly subjected. Had the whole region agreed to transfer its

allegiance, its reduction might have cost Philippe a doubtful struggle,

embarrassed as he was with the chronic disaffection of the Flemings.

When, however, the project was broached to the men of Albi, they refused

peremptorily to embark in it, and there can be no stronger proof of the

desperation of the Carcassais than their resolution to persist in it

single-handed. Ferrand and his father were at Montpellier entertaining

the French court, which they accompanied to Nîmes. He eagerly listened

to the overtures, and asked Frère Bernard to come to him at Perpignan.

Bernard went thither with a letter of credence from the consuls, which

he prudently destroyed on the road. The King of Majorca, when he heard

of the offer, chastened his son's ambition by boxing his ears and

pulling him around by the hair, and he ingratiated himself with his

powerful neighbor by communicating the plot to Philippe.[98]

Although there could have been no real danger from so crazy a project,

the relation of the southern provinces to the crown were too strained

for the king not to exact a vengeance which should prove a warning. A

court was assembled at Carcassonne which sat through the summer of 1305

and made free use of torture in its investigations. Albi, which had

taken no part in the plot, escaped an investigation by a bribe of one

thousand livres to the seneschal, Jean d'Alnet, but the damage inflicted

on the Franciscan convent shows that the Dominicans were keen to make

reprisals for what they had suffered. The town of Limoux had been

concerned in the affair; it was fined and disfranchised, and forty of

its citizens were hanged. As for Carcassonne, all of its eight consuls,

with Elias Patrice at their head, and seven other citizens were hanged

in their official robes, the city was deprived of self-government and

subjected to the enormous fine of sixty thousand livres, a sentence from

which it vainly appealed to the Parlement. As Bernard Gui observes with

savage exultation, those who had croaked like ravens against the

Dominicans were exposed to the ravens. Aimeric Castel, who had sought in

this way to obtain redress for the wrong done to his father's memory and

estate, escaped by flight, but was captured and long lay a prisoner,

finally making his peace with a heavy ransom, and a harvest of fines was

gathered into the royal exchequer from all who could be accused of

privity. As for Frère Bernard, he received early intelligence from Frère

Durand, the queen's confessor, of the discovery of the plot, when he

boldly headed a delegation of citizens of Albi who went to Paris to

protest their innocence. There Durand informed them that Albi was not

implicated, when they returned, leaving Bernard. At the request of the

king, Clement V. had him arrested and carried to Lyons, whence he was

taken by the papal court to Bordeaux; and when it went to Poitiers he

was confined in the convent of St. Junian of Limoges. In May, 1307, at

the instance of Clement, Philippe issued letters of amnesty to all

concerned, and remitted to Carcassonne the portion of its fine not yet

paid, and in Lent, 1308, Bernard was allowed to come to Poitiers. On the

king's arrival there he boldly complained to him of his arrest and of

the punishment which had involved the innocent with the guilty. As he

still had no license to leave the papal court, he accompanied it to

Avignon, and was at length discharged with the royal assent--the heavy

bribes paid to three cardinals by his friends of Albi having perhaps

something to do with his immunity. He returned to Toulouse, and we hear

of no further activity on his part. His narrow escape probably sobered

his restless enthusiasm, and as the reform of the Inquisition seemed to

have been taken resolutely in hand by Clement V. he might well persuade

himself that there was no further call for self-sacrifice.[99]

The death of Benedict XI., in July, 1304, had given fresh hopes to the

sufferers from the Inquisition. There was an interregnum of nearly a

year before the election of his successor, Clement V., June 5, 1305.

During this period a petition to the College of Cardinals was presented

by seventeen of the religious bodies of the Albigeois, including the

canons of the cathedral of Albi, those of the church of St. Salvi, the

convent of Gaillac, etc., imploring in the most pressing terms the

Sacred College to intervene and avert the fearful dangers threatening

the community. The land, they declare, is Catholic, the people are

faithful, cherishing the religion of Rome in their hearts, and

professing it with their lips. Yet so fierce are the dissensions between

them and the inquisitors, that they are aroused to wrath and are eager

to put to the sword those whom they have learned to regard as enemies.

Doubtless the inquisitors had taken advantage of the revulsion

consequent upon the fruitless treason of Carcassonne and of the altered

attitude of the king. Philippe thenceforth interfered no further, save

to urge his representatives to renewed vigilance in enforcing the laws

against heretics and the disabilities inflicted upon their descendants.

It was not only the treason of Carcassonne which indisposed him to

interfere; from 1307 onward he needed the indispensable aid of the

Inquisition to carry out his designs against the Templars, and he could

afford neither to antagonize it nor to limit its powers.[100]

The Sacred College, monopolized by electioneering intrigues, paid no

heed to the imploring prayer of the Albigensian clergy, but when the

year's turmoil was ended by the triumph of the French party in the

election of Clement V. the hopes raised by the death of his predecessor

might reasonably seem destined to fruition. Bertrand de Goth,

Cardinal-Archbishop of Bordeaux, was a Gascon by birth, and, though an

English subject, was doubtless more familiar than the Italians with the

miseries and needs of Languedoc. His transfer of the papacy to French

soil was also of good augury. Hardly had the news of his election

reached Albi, when Frère Bernard was busy in organizing a mission to

represent to him in the name of the city the necessity of relief, and

when he visited Toulouse the wives of the prisoners, still languishing

in confinement, were taken thither to make their woes emphatically

known. Hardly had he been consecrated at Lyons when these complaints

poured in and were substantiated by two Dominicans, Bertrand Blanc and

François Aimeric, who were as emphatic as the representatives of Albi in

their denunciations of inquisitorial methods and abuses. Geoffroi

d'Ablis hurried thither from Carcassonne to defend himself in such haste

that he left no one to take his place, and was obliged to send from

Lyons, September 29, 1305, a commission to Jean de Faugoux and Gerald de

Blumac to act in his stead. In this paper his fiery fanaticism breathes

forth in his denunciations of the horrid beasts, the cruel beasts, who

are ravaging the vineyard of the Lord, and who are to be tracked to

their dens and extirpated with unsparing rigor.[101]

His efforts to justify the Inquisition were unavailing, more especially,

perhaps, because the people of Albi bribed Cardinal Raymond de Goth, the

pope's nephew, with two thousand livres Tournois, the Cardinal of Santa

Croce with as much, and the Cardinal Pier Colonna with five hundred.

March 13, 1306, Clement commissioned two cardinals, Pierre of San Vitale

(afterwards of Palestrina) and Berenger of SS. Nereo and Achille

(afterwards of Frascati), who were about to pass through Languedoc on a

mission, to investigate and make such temporary changes as they should

find necessary. The people of Carcassonne, Albi, and Cordes had offered

to prove that good Catholics were forced to confess heresy through the

stress of torture and the horrors of the prisons, and further that the

records of the Inquisition were altered and falsified. Until the

investigation was completed, the inquisitors were not to consign to

strict prison or to inflict torture on any one except in conjunction

with the diocesan, and in the place of the Bishop of Albi the Abbot of

Fontfroide was subrogated.

On April 16, 1306, the cardinals held a public session at Carcassonne in

presence of all the notables of the place. The consuls of Carcassonne

and the delegates of Albi preferred their complaints and were supported

by the two Dominicans, Blanc and Aimeric, who had appeared before the

pope. On the other hand, Geoffroi d'Ablis and the deputy of the Bishop

of Albi defended themselves and complained of the popular riots and the

ill-treatment to which they had been exposed. After hearing both sides

the cardinals adjourned further proceedings until January 25, at

Bordeaux, where Carcassonne, Albi, and Cordes were each to send four

procurators to conduct the matter. As this office was a most dangerous

one, the cardinals gave security to them against the Inquisition during

the performance of their duty. This was no idle precaution, and Aimeric

Castel, one of the representatives of Carcassonne, found himself in such

danger that in September, 1308, he was obliged to procure from Clement a

special bull forbidding the inquisitors to assail him until the

termination of the affair. Even greater danger impended over any

witnesses called upon to prove the falsification of records, as they

were bound to silence under oaths which exposed them to the stake as

relapsed heretics in case they revealed their evidence, and the

cardinals were asked to absolve them from these oaths.[102]

If there were any further formal proceedings in this matter, which thus

assumed the shape of a litigation between the people and the

Inquisition, they have not reached us. Yet the cardinals, before

continuing their journey, took some steps which showed that they were

convinced of the truth of the accusations. They visited the prison of

Carcassonne, and caused the prisoners, forty in number, of whom three

were women, to be brought before them. Some of these were sick, others

worn with age, and all tearfully complaining of the horrors of their

lot, the insufficiency of food and bedding, and the cruelty of their

keepers. The cardinals were moved to dismiss all the jailers and

attendants except the chief, and to put the prison under the control of

the Bishop of Carcassonne. It is significant that the oath imposed on

the new officials bound them never to speak to a prisoner except in the

presence of an associate, and not to steal any of the food destined for

those under their charge. One of the cardinals visited the prison of the

Bishop of Albi, where he found the jailers well spoken of, but was

shocked with the condition of the prisoners. Many of them were in chains

and all in narrow, dark cells, where some of them had been confined for

five years or more without being yet condemned. He ordered all chains

removed, that light should be introduced in the cells, and that new and

less inhuman ones should be built within a month. As regards general

amelioration in inquisitorial proceedings, the only regulation which

they issued was a confirmation of Philippe's expedient, requiring the

co-operation of the diocesan with the inquisitor, and this was withdrawn

by Clement, August 12, 1308, in an apologetic bull declaring that the

cardinals had exceeded his intentions.[103]

The existence of the evils complained of was thus admitted, but the

Church shrank from applying a remedy, and, after the struggle of years,

relief was as illusory as ever. Even with regard to the crying and

inexcusable abuse of the detention of prisoners in these fearful

dungeons for long years without conviction or sentence, Clement found

himself powerless to effect reform in the most flagrant cases. The

inquisitors had in their archives a bull of Innocent IV. authorizing

them to defer indefinitely passing sentence when they deemed that delay

was in the interest of the faith, and of this they took full advantage.

Of the captives seized by the Bishop of Albi in 1299, many were still

unsentenced when the Cardinal of San Vitale examined his prisons. This

visit passed away without result. Five years afterwards, in 1310,

Clement wrote to the Bishop of Albi and Geoffroi d'Ablis that the

citizens of Albi, whom he names, had repeatedly appealed to him, after

more than eight years of imprisonment, to have their trials completed

either to condemnation or absolution. He therefore orders the trials

proceeded with at once and the results submitted for confirmation to the

Cardinals of Palestrina and Frascati, his former commissioners. Bertrand

de Bordes, Bishop of Albi, and Geoffroi d'Ablis contemptuously

disregarded this command, because some of the prisoners named in it had

died before its date, whence they argued that the papal letter had been

surreptitiously obtained. When this contumacy reached the ears of

Clement, some year or two later, he wrote to Geraud, then Bishop of

Albi, and Geoffroi, peremptorily reiterating his commands and ordering

them to try both living and dead. In spite of this, Geoffroi maintained

his sullen contumacy. We have no means of knowing the fate of most of

these unfortunates, who probably rotted to death in their dungeons

without their trials being concluded; but of some of them we have

traces, as related in a former chapter. After Clement and his cardinals

had passed away, and no further interference was to be dreaded, in 1319

two surviving ones, Guillem Salavert and Isarn Colli, were brought out

for further examination, when the former confirmed his confession and

the latter retracted it as extorted under torture. Six months later,

Guillem Calverie of Cordes, who had been imprisoned in 1301, was

abandoned to the secular arm for retracting his confession (probably

before Clement's cardinals), and Guillem Salavert was allowed to escape

with wearing crosses, in consideration of his nineteen years'

imprisonment without conviction. Even as late as 1328 attested copies

made by order of the royal judge of Carcassonne, of inventories of

personal property of Raymond Calverie and Jean Baudier, two of the

prisoners of 1299-1300, show that their cases were still the subject of

litigation. Even more remarkable as a manifestation of contumacy is the

case of Guillem Garric, held in prison for complicity in the attempt to

destroy the records at Carcassonne in 1284. Royal letters of 1312 recite

that his merits and piety had caused Clement V. to grant him full

pardon, wherefore the king restores to him and his descendants his

confiscated castle of Monteirat. Yet the Inquisition did not relax its

grip, but waited until 1321, when he was brought forth from prison, and

in consideration of his contrition Bernard Gui mercifully sentenced the

old man to perpetual banishment from France within thirty days.[104]

Another endeavor was made by Clement to repress the abuses of the

Inquisition by transferring from its jurisdiction to that of the bishops

the Jews of the provinces of Toulouse and Narbonne on account of the

undue molestation to which they were continually subjected. This

transfer even included cases then pending, but after Clement's death a

bull was produced in which he annulled the previous one and restored the

jurisdiction of the Inquisition.[105]

The outcome of all this struggle and investigation is to be found in the

measures of reform adopted in 1312 by the Council of Vienne at Clement's

instance. The five books of canon law known as the "Clementines,"

which were enacted by the council, were retained for revision by

Clement, who was on the point of publishing them when he died, April 20,

1314. They were held in suspense during the long interregnum which

followed, and were not authoritatively given to the world until October

25, 1317, by John XXII. The canons relating to the Inquisition have been

alluded to above, and it will be remembered that they only restricted

the power of the inquisitor by requiring episcopal concurrence in the

use of torture, or of harsh confinement equivalent to torture, and in

the custody of prisons. There was a _brutum fulmen_ of excommunication

denounced against those who should abuse their power for purposes of

hate, affection, or extortion, and the importance of the whole lies far

less in the remedies it proposes than in its emphatic testimony of the

existence of cruelty and corruption in every detail of inquisitorial

practice. Bernard Gui vainly raised his voice in an earnest and

elaborate protest against the publication of the new rules, and after

their promulgation he did not hesitate openly to tell his brethren that

they required to be modified or rather wholly suspended by the Holy See,

but his expostulations were totally uncalled for. The closest

examination of inquisitorial methods before and after the publication of

the Clementines fails to reveal any influence exercised by them for good

or for evil. No trace of any practical effort for their enforcement is

to be found, and inquisitors went on, as was their wont, in the

arbitrary fashion for which their office gave them such unlimited

opportunity.[106]

One case may indeed be cited to show a special relaxation of the

procedure against heretics. Philippe's hatred of Boniface VIII. was

undying, and could not be quenched even by the miserable end of his

enemy. Yet the one thing which he failed to wring from his tool in the

papal chair was the condemnation of the memory of Boniface as a heretic.

After repeated efforts he compelled Clement to take testimony on the

subject, and a cloud of witnesses were produced who swore with minute

detail to the unbelief of the late pope in the immortality of the soul,

and in all the doctrines of the incarnation and the atonement, and to

his worship of demons, to his cynical and unnatural lasciviousness, and

to the common fame which existed in the community as to his evil beliefs

and habits. The witnesses were reputable churchmen for the most part,

and their evidence was precise. A tithe of such testimony would have

sufficed to burn the bones and disinherit the heirs of a score of

ordinary culprits, but for once the recognized rules of procedure were

set aside. Philippe was forced to desist from the pursuit, though

Clement in his final bull of April 27, 1311, declared that the king and

his witnesses had been actuated solely by zeal for the Church, and the

affair fell through. The pretensions put forth by Boniface in his

offensive decretals were formally withdrawn, and Guillaume de Nogaret

obtained his long-withheld absolution.[107]

Clement died at Carpentras April 20, 1314, carrying with him the shame

and guilt of the ruin of the Templars, and was followed in about seven

months (November 29) by his tempter and accomplice, Philippe le Bel. The

cardinals on whom devolved the choice of a successor to St. Peter were

torn with dissensions. The Italians demanded that the election should be

held in the Eternal City. The French, or Gascons, as they were called,

insisted on the observance of the rule that the selection should be made

on the spot where the last pontiff had expired, knowing that in Italy

they would be exposed to the same insults and annoyances as were

inflicted in France on their Italian brethren. Shut up in the episcopal

palace of Carpentras, the conclave awaited in vain the inspiration of

the Holy Ghost, even though those outside tried the gentle expedient of

cutting off the food of the members and pillaging their houses. The

situation grew so insupportable that, as a last desperate resort, on

July 23, 1314, the Gascon faction, under the lead of Clement's nephews,

set fire to the palace and threatened the Italians with death, so that

the latter were glad to escape with their lives by breaking a passage

through the rear wall. Two years passed away without the election of a

visible head of the Church, and the faithful might well fear that they

had seen the last of the popes. The French court, however, had found

itself so well abetted by a French pope that its policy required the

chair of St. Peter to be filled, and in 1316 Louis Hutin sent his

brother, Philippe le Long, then Count of Poitiers, to Lyons with orders

to get the cardinals together. To accomplish this Philippe was obliged

to swear that he would neither do them violence nor imprison them, and

they, having thus secured their independence, were no more disposed to

accord than before. For six months the business thus lagged without

prospect of result, when Philippe received the news of the sudden death

of his brother, and that the widowed queen claimed to be pregnant. The

prospect of a vacant throne, or at least of a regency, awaiting him in

Paris rendered further dallying in Lyons insupportable, nor could he

well depart without bringing his errand to a successful issue. Hastily

counselling with his lawyers, it was discovered that his oath was

unlawful and therefore not to be observed. Consequently he invited the

reverend fathers to a colloquy in the Dominican convent, and when they

were thus safely hived he sternly told them that they should not depart

till they had chosen a pope. His guards blocked every entrance, and he

hastened off to Paris, leaving them to deliberate in captivity. Thus

entrapped they made a merit of necessity, though forty days were still

required before they proclaimed Jacques d'Ozo, Cardinal of Porto, as the

Vicar of Christ--the Italians having been won over by his oath that he

would never mount a horse or mule except to go to Rome. This oath he

kept during his whole pontificate of eighteen years, for he slipped down

the Rhone to Avignon by boat, ascended on foot to the palace, and never

left it except to visit the cathedral which adjoined it. Such a process

of selection was not likely to result in the evolution of a saint, and

John XXII. was its natural exponent. His distinguished learning and

vigorous abilities had elevated him from the humblest origin, while his

boundless ambition and imperious temper provoked endless quarrels from

which his daring spirit never shrank.[108]

With his election the troubles of the Inquisition of Languedoc were

over. Though he published the Clementines, he soon let it be seen that

the inquisitors had nothing to fear from him, and they made haste to pay

off the accumulated scores of vengeance. The first victim was Bernard

Délicieux. During the pontificate of Clement and the interregnum he had

lived in peace, and might well imagine that his enthusiasm for the

people of Languedoc had been forgotten. His earnest nature had led him

to join the section of his order known as the Spirituals, and he had

been prominent in the movements by which, during the vacancy of the

Holy See, they had gained possession of the convents of Béziers and

Narbonne. One of the first cares of John XXII. was to heal this schism

in the Order, and he promptly summoned before him the friars of Béziers

and Narbonne. Bernard had not hesitated in signing an appeal to the

pope, and he now boldly came before him at the head of his brethren.

When he undertook to argue their cause he was accused of having impeded

the Inquisition and was promptly arrested. Besides the charge of

impeding the Inquisition, others of encompassing by magic arts the death

of Benedict XI., and of treason in the affair of Carcassonne, were

brought against him. A papal commission was formed to investigate these

matters, and for more than two years he was held in close prison while

the examination went slowly on. At length it was ready for trial, and

September 3, 1319, a court was convened at Castelnaudari consisting of

the Archbishop of Toulouse and the Bishops of Pamiers and St. Papoul,

when the archbishop excused himself and left the matter in the hands of

his associates, who transferred the court to Carcassonne, September 12.

The importance attached to the trial is shown by the fact that at it the

Inquisition was represented by the inquisitor Jean de Beaune, and the

king by his Seneschal of Carcassonne and Toulouse and his "Reformers,"

Raoul, Bishop of Laon, and Jean, Count of Forez.[109]

The official report of the trial has been preserved in all its immense

prolixity, and there are few documents of that age more instructive as

to what was then regarded as justice. Some of Bernard's old accomplices,

such as Arnaud Garsia, Guillem Fransa, Pierre Probi, and others, who had

already been seized by the Inquisition, were brought forward to be tried

with him and were used as witnesses to save their own lives by swearing

his away. The old man, worn with two years of imprisonment and constant

examination, was subjected for two months to the sharpest

cross-questioning on occurrences dating from twelve to eighteen years

previous, the subjects of the multiform charges being ingeniously

intermingled in the most confusing manner. Under pretext of seeking the

salvation of his soul he was solemnly and repeatedly admonished that he

was legally a heretic for remaining for more than a year under the _ipso

facto_ excommunication incurred by impeding the Inquisition, and that

nothing could save him from the stake but absolute submission and full

confession. Twice he was tortured, the first time, October 3, on the

charge of treason, and the second, November 20, on that of necromancy;

and though the torture was ordered to be "moderate," the notaries who

assisted at it are careful to report that the shrieks of the victim

attested its sufficiency. In neither case was anything extracted from

him, but the efficacy of the combined pressure thus brought to bear on a

man weakened by age and suffering is shown by the manner in which he was

brought day by day to contradict and criminate himself, until at last he

threw himself on the mercy of the court, and humbly begged for

absolution.[110]

In the sentence, rendered December 8, he was acquitted of attempting the

life of Benedict XI., while on the other charges his guilt was

aggravated by no less than seventy perjuries committed under

examination. After abjuration, he was duly absolved and condemned to

degradation from holy orders and imprisonment for life, in chains and on

bread and water, in the inquisitorial prison of Carcassonne. Considering

the amnesty proclaimed in 1307 by Philippe le Bel, and the discharge of

Frère Bernard in 1308, it seems strange that now the representatives of

Philippe le Long at once protested against the sentence as too mild, and

appealed to the pope. The judges themselves did not think so, for in

delivering the prisoner to Jean de Beaune they humanely ordered that in

view of his age and debility, and especially the weakness of his hands

(doubtless crippled in the torture-chamber), the penance of chains and

bread and water should be omitted. Jean de Beaune may be pardoned if he

felt a fierce exultation when the ancient enemy of his office was thus

placed in his hands to expiate the offence which had so harassed his

predecessors; and that exultation was perhaps increased when, February

26, 1320, the relentless pope, possibly to gratify the king,

countermanded the pitying order of the bishops, and required the

sentence to be executed in all its terrible rigor. Under these hardships

the frail body which had been animated by so dauntless a spirit soon

gave way, and in a few months merciful death released the only man who

had dared to carry on a systematic warfare with the Inquisition.[111]

The progress of reaction had been rapid. In 1315 Louis Hutin had issued

an edict in which were embodied most of the provisions of the laws of

Frederic II. This piece of legislation, perfectly superfluous in view of

the eighty years' career of the Inquisition in his dominions, is only

of interest as showing the influence already obtained by the Dominicans

during the papal interregnum. With the election of John XXII.,

notwithstanding his publication of the Clementines, all fear of

interference disappeared, and the populations were surrendered again to

the unchecked authority of the inquisitors. There was a significant

notice to this effect in the withdrawal by the new pope, March 30, 1318,

of the security given by Clement's cardinals to Aimeric Castel and the

other citizens of Carcassonne, Albi, and Cordes, who were deputed to

carry on the case of those cities against the inquisitors, and the

latter were directed to prosecute them diligently. The Inquisition

recognized that its hour of triumph had come, and took in hand the

survivors of those who had been conspicuous in the disturbances of

fifteen years before. The unconvicted prisoners of 1299 and 1300, whom

it had held in defiance of the reiterated orders of Clement--at least

those who had not rotted to death in its dungeons--were brought forth

and disposed of. A still more emphatic assertion of its renewed mastery

was the subjection and "reconciliation" of the rebellious towns. Of

what took place at Carcassonne we have no record, but it probably was

the same as the ceremonies performed at Albi. There, March 11, 1319, the

consuls and councillors and a great crowd of citizens were assembled in

the cathedral cemetery, before Bishop Bernard and the inquisitor Jean de

Beaune. There, with uplifted hands, they all professed repentance in the

most humiliating terms, and swore to accept whatever penance might be

imposed upon them, and thereafter to obey implicitly the bishop and

inquisitor. Then those present, together with the dead who had shown

signs of penitence, were relieved from excommunication, the rest of the

population being required to apply for absolution within a month. The

announcement of the penances followed. The town was to make good all

expenses and losses accruing to the episcopate and Inquisition by reason

of the troubles; it was to build and complete within two years a chapel

to the cathedral, and a portal to the Dominican church; to give fifty

livres to the Carmelites to be expended on their church, and, finally,

to construct marble tombs for Nicholas d'Abbeville, and Foulques de

Saint-Georges at Lyons and Carcassonne, where those inquisitors had died

in poverty and exile by reason of the rebellion of the inhabitants. Ten

pilgrimages, moreover, were designated for the survivors of those who in

1301 had bound themselves to prosecute Bishop Bertrand and Nicholas

d'Abbeville in the royal court, as well as for those who had served as

consuls and councillors from 1302 to 1304. Jean de Beaune seems to have

considered it a special grace when, in December, 1320, he postponed the

performance of their pilgrimages during the year from Easter, 1321, to

1322. The town of Cordes, June 29, 1321, was "reconciled" with a

similar humiliating ceremony and pledges of future obedience. Thus the

Inquisition celebrated its triumph in the long struggle. It had won the

victory, and its opponents could only save themselves by unconditional

surrender.[112]

* * * * *

Whether the citizens of Albi whose arrest in 1299 gave rise to so many

troubles were really heretics or not cannot now be determined. Their

confessions were precise and detailed, but, as their defenders alleged,

the Inquisition had ample means of extorting what it pleased from its

victims, and the long delay in convicting them would seem to argue that

the tribunal had good reason for not wishing its sentences to see the

light while there was chance of their being subjected to scrutiny under

Clement V. The inquisitors urged in justification a single case, that of

Lambert de Foyssenx, who complained to Clement's cardinals that he had

been unjustly accused, but who subsequently asserted his heresy

defiantly, refused to recant, and was burned in 1309. This is the only

instance of the kind, for the wretched survivors who were led to abjure

and recant in 1319 were broken by prison and torture, and their evidence

is worthless.[113]

Yet Bernard Gui was undoubtedly correct when he asserted that the

troubles and limitations imposed on the Inquisition under Philippe le

Bel led to the recrudescence of a heresy which had been nearly

extinguished. In the debate before the king at Toulouse, in 1304,

Guillem Pierre, the Dominican provincial, asserted that there were then

in Languedoc no heretics except some forty or fifty in Albi,

Carcassonne, and Cordes, and for a few leagues around them. This was

doubtless an exaggeration, but with improved prospects of immunity

perfected missionaries were invited from Lombardy and Sicily, and the

number of believers rapidly increased. Bernard Gui boasts that from 1301

to 1315 there were more than a thousand detected by the Inquisition, who

confessed and were publicly punished.[114]

The registers of Geoffroi d'Ablis at Carcassonne in 1308-9 show great

activity rewarded by abundant results, and one of the witnesses in the

trial of Bernard Délicieux tells us that, when the Inquisition was able

to resume its labors there, many heretics and believers were promptly

discovered.[115] About the same period commence the sentences of the

Inquisition of Toulouse published by Limborch. In 1306 Bernard Gui had

been appointed inquisitor at Toulouse. His numerous works attest his

wide range of learning and incessant mental activity, while his

practical skill in affairs was animated with a profound conviction of

the wickedness of heresy and of the duty of his Order to enforce, at

every cost, submission to Rome. Two missions as papal legate, one to

Italy and the other to France, and two bishoprics, those of Tuy and

Lodève, attest the value set on his services by John XXII. With his

appointment at Toulouse he promptly commenced the long campaign which

resulted in the virtual extirpation of Catharism in Languedoc. Yet,

though stern and unsparing when the occasion seemed to demand it, his

record bears no trace of useless cruelty or abusive extortion.[116]

Catharism by this time had been forced back to the humbler class among

whom it had found its first disciples. The nobles and gentlemen who had

so long upheld it had perished or been impoverished by the remorseless

confiscations of three quarters of a century. The rich burghers of the

cities--merchants and professional men--had learned the temptations held

out by their wealth and the impossibility of avoiding detection. The

fascinations of martyrdom have their limits, and the martyrs among them

had been gradually but surely weeded out. Yet the old beliefs were still

rooted among the simple folk of country hamlets and especially in the

wild valleys among the foothills of the eastern Pyrenees. The active

intercourse with Lombardy, and even with Sicily, was still kept up, and

there were not wanting earnest ministers who braved every danger to

administer to believers the consolations of their religion and to spread

the faith in the fastnesses which were its last refuge. Chief among

these was Pierre Autier, formerly a notary of Ax (Pamiers). His early

life had not been pure, for we hear of his _druda_, or mistress, and his

natural children, but with advancing years he embraced all the

asceticism of the sect, to which he devoted his life. Driven to Lombardy

in 1295, he returned in 1298 to remain on his native soil to the end,

and to endure a war to the knife from the Inquisition. His property was

confiscated and his family dispersed and ruined. The region to which he

belonged lay at the foot of the Pyrenees, rugged, with few roads and

many caves and hiding-places, whence escape across the frontier to

Aragon was comparatively facile; it was full of his kindred who were

devoted to him, and here for eleven years he maintained himself, lurking

in disguise and wandering from place to place with the emissaries of the

Holy Office ever on his track. He had been ordained to the ministry at

Como, and speedily acquired authority in the sect of which he became one

of the most zealous, indefatigable, and intrepid missionaries. Already,

in 1300, he was so conspicuous that every effort was made for his

apprehension. A certain Guillem Jean offered the Dominicans of Pamiers

to betray him, but the treachery became known among the faithful, two of

whom, Pierre d'Aère and Philippe de Larnat enticed Guillem to the bridge

at Alliat by night, seized him, gagged him, carried him off to the

mountains, and, after extorting a confession, cast him over a precipice.

Worthy lieutenants of Pierre Autier were his brother Guillem and his son

Jacques, Amiel de Perles, Pierre Sanche, and Sanche Mercadier, whose

names occur everywhere throughout the confessions as active

missionaries. Jacques Autier on one occasion had the boldness to preach

at midnight to a gathering of heretic women in the Church of

Sainte-Croix in Toulouse, the spot being selected as one in which they

could best hold their meeting undisturbed.[117]

The work of Geoffroi d'Ablis in Carcassonne seems to be principally

directed to determining the protectors and refuges of Pierre Autier. At

Toulouse Bernard Gui was energetically employed in the same direction.

The heretic was driven from place to place, but the wonderful fidelity

of his disciples seemed to render all efforts vain, and finally Bernard

was driven to the expedient of issuing, August 10, 1309, a special

proclamation as an incitement for his capture.

"Friar Bernard Gui, Dominican, Inquisitor of Toulouse, to all

worshippers of Christ, the reward and crown of eternal life. Gird

yourselves, Sons of God; arise with me, Soldiers of Christ, against

the enemies of his Cross, those corrupters of the truth and purity

of Catholic faith, Pierre Autier, the heresiarch, and his

coheretics and accomplices, Pierre Sanche and Sanche Mercadier.

Hiding in concealment and walking in darkness, I order them by the

virtue of God, to be tracked and seized wherever they may be found,

promising eternal reward from God, and also a fitting temporal

payment to those who will capture and produce them. Watch,

therefore, O pastors, lest the wolves snatch away the sheep of your

flock! Act manfully, faithful zealots, lest the adversaries of the

faith fly and escape!"

This stirring exhortation was probably superfluous, for the prey was

captured before it could have been published throughout the land. The

arrest of nearly all his family and friends, in 1308-9, had driven

Pierre Autier from his accustomed haunts. About St. John's Day (June

24), 1309, he found refuge with Perrin Maurel of Belpech, near

Castelnaudari, where he lay for five weeks or more. Thither came his

daughter Guillelma, who remained with him a short time, and the two

departed together. The next day he was captured. Perrin Maurel was

likewise seized, and with customary fidelity stoutly denied everything

until Pierre Autier, in prison, advised him in December to confess.[118]

This triumph was followed in October by the capture of Amiel de Perles,

who forthwith placed himself in _endura_, refusing to eat or drink, and,

as he was fast sinking, to prevent the stake from being robbed of its

prey, a special _auto de fé_ was hurriedly arranged for his burning,

October 23. While yet his strength lasted, however, Bernard Gui enjoyed

the ghastly amusement of making the two heresiarchs in his presence

perform the act of heretical "adoration."[119]

Pierre Autier was not burned until the great _auto de fé_ of April,

1310, when Geoffroi d'Ablis came from Carcassonne to share in the

triumph. The heresiarch had not sought to conceal his faith, but had

boldly declared his obnoxious tenets and had pronounced the Church of

Rome the synagogue of Satan. That he was subjected to the extremity of

torture, however, there can be no reasonable doubt--not to extract a

confession, for this was superfluous, but to force him to betray his

disciples and those who had given him refuge. His intimate acquaintance

with all the heretics of the land was a source of information too

important for Bernard Gui to shrink from any means of acquiring it; and

the copious details thus obtained are alluded to in too many subsequent

sentences for us to hesitate as to the methods by which the heresiarch

was brought to place his friends and associates at the mercy of his

tormentors.[120]

This may be said to close the bloody drama of Catharism in Languedoc.

Armed with the revelations thus obtained, Bernard Gui and Geoffroi

d'Ablis required but a few years more to convert or burn the remnant of

Pierre Autier's disciples who could be caught, and to drive into exile

those who eluded their spies. No new and self-devoted missionaries arose

to take his place, and after 1315 the Patarin almost disappears from

the records of the Inquisition in France. Some few scattering cases

subsequently occur, but their offences are of old date and almost

invariably revert to the missionary work of Pierre Autier and his

associates. One of the latest of these is recorded in an undated

sentence, probably of 1327 or 1328, in which Jean Duprat, Inquisitor of

Carcassonne, condemns Guillelma Tornière. She had abjured and had been

long confined in prison, where she was detected in making converts and

praising Guillem Autier and Guillem Balibaste as good and saintly men.

Under interrogation she refused to take an oath, and was accordingly

burned. In 1328, Henri de Chamay of Carcassonne condemned to prison

Guillem Amiel for Catharism, and in 1329 he sentenced two Cathari,

Bartolomé Pays and Raymond Garric of Albi, whose offences had been

committed respectively thirty-five and forty years before. In the same

year he ordered four houses and a farm to be demolished because their

owners had been hereticated in them, but these acts had doubtless been

performed long previous. Confiscations still continued for ancestral

offences, but Catharism as an existing belief may be said at this period

to be virtually extinct in Languedoc, where it had a hundred and fifty

years before had a reasonable prospect of becoming the dominant

religion.[121]

In the same year, 1329, occurred a case which is not without interest as

showing how an earnest but unstable brain pondering over the crime and

misery of the world, wove some of the cruder elements of Catharism and

Averrhoism into a fantastic theory. Limoux Noir, of Saint-Paul in the

diocese of Alet, had already been tried by his bishop in 1326, but had

been able to evade the unskilled officials of the episcopal tribunal.

The Inquisition had surer methods and speedily brought him to

confession. He had formed a philosophy of the Universe which superseded

all religion. God had created the archangels, these the angels, and the

latter the sun and moon. These heavenly bodies, as being unstable and

corruptible, were females. Out of their urine the world was formed, and

was necessarily corrupt, with all that sprang from it. Moses, Mahomet,

and Christ were all sent by the sun and were teachers of equal

authority. In the under world Christ and Mahomet are now disputing and

seeking to gain followers. Baptism was of no more use than the

circumcision of Israel or the blessing of Islam, for those who renounced

evil in baptism grew up to be robbers and strumpets. The Eucharist was

naught, for God would not let himself be handled by adulterers such as

the priests. Matrimony was to be shunned, for from it sprang robbers and

strumpets. Thus he explained away and rejected all the doctrines and

practices of the Church. To see whether the Saviour's fast of forty days

was possible, he had fasted in a cabin ten days and nights, at the end

of which this system of philosophy had been revealed to him by God.

Again, in 1327, he had placed himself in _endura_, with the resolve to

carry it to the end, but had been persuaded by his brother to take the

Eucharist, to save his bones from being burned after his death. He was

sixty years old, and his crazy doctrines had brought him a few

disciples, but the sect was crushed at the outset. He declared to the

inquisitor that he would rather be flayed alive than believe in

transubstantiation, and he proved his resolute character by resisting

all attempts to induce him to recant, so that there was no alternative

but to abandon him to the secular arm, which was duly done and his

belief perished with him.[122]

* * * * *

Thus the Inquisition triumphed, as force will generally do when it is

sufficiently strong, skilfully applied, and systematically continued

without interruption to the end. In the twelfth century the south of

France had been the most civilized land of Europe. There commerce,

industry, art, science, had been far in advance of the age. The cities

had won virtual self-government, were proud of their wealth and

strength, jealous of their liberties, and self-sacrificing in their

patriotism. The nobles, for the most part, were cultivated men, poets

themselves or patrons of poetry, who had learned that their prosperity

depended on the prosperity of their subjects, and that municipal

liberties were a safeguard, rather than a menace, to the wise ruler. The

crusaders came, and their unfinished work was taken up and executed to

the bitter end by the Inquisition. It left a ruined and impoverished

country, with shattered industry and failing commerce. The native nobles

were broken by confiscation and replaced by strangers, who occupied the

soil, introducing the harsh customs of Northern feudalism, or the

despotic principles of the Roman law, in the extensive domains acquired

by the crown. A people of rare natural gifts had been tortured,

decimated, humiliated, despoiled, for a century and more. The precocious

civilization which had promised to lead Europe in the path of culture

was gone, and to Italy was transferred the honor of the Renaissance. In

return for this was unity of faith and a Church which had been hardened

and vitiated and secularized in the strife. Such was the work and such

the outcome of the Inquisition in the field which afforded it the widest

scope for its activity, and the fullest opportunity for developing its

powers.

Yet in the very triumph of the Inquisition was the assurance of its

decline. Supported by the State, it had earned and repaid the royal

favor by the endless stream of confiscations which it poured into the

royal coffers. Perhaps nothing contributed more to the consolidation of

the royal supremacy than the change of ownership which threw into new

hands so large a portion of the lands of the South. In the territories

of the great vassals the right to the confiscations for heresy became

recognized as an important portion of the _droits seigneurioux_. In the

domains of the crown they were granted to favorites or sold at moderate

prices to those who thus became interested in the new order of things.

The royal officials grasped everything on which they could lay their

hands, whether on the excuse of treason or of heresy, with little regard

to any rights; and although the integrity of Louis IX. caused an inquest

to be held in 1262 which restored a vast amount of property illegally

held, this was but a small fraction of the whole. To assist his

Parlement in settling the innumerable cases which arose, he ordered, in

1260, the charters and letters of greatest importance to be sent to

Paris. Those of each of the six senechaussées filled a coffer, and the

six coffers were deposited in the treasury of the Sainte-Chapelle. In

this process of absorption the case of the extensive Viscounty of

Fenouillèdes may be taken as an illustration of the zeal with which the

Inquisition co-operated in securing the political results desired by the

crown. Fenouillèdes had been seized during the crusades and given to

Nuñez Sancho of Roussillon, from whom it passed, through the King of

Aragon, into the hands of St. Louis. In 1264 Beatrix, widow of Hugues,

son of the former Viscount Pierre, applied to the Parlement for her

rights and dower and those of her children. Immediately the inquisitor,

Pons de Poyet, commenced a prosecution against the memory of Pierre, who

had died more than twenty years previously in the bosom of the Church,

and had been buried with the Templars of Mas Deu, after assuming the

religious habit and receiving the last sacraments. He was condemned for

having held relations with heretics, his bones were dug up and burned,

and the Parlement rejected the claim of the daughter-in-law and

grandchildren. Pierre, the eldest of these, in 1300, made a claim for

the ancestral estates, and Boniface VIII. espoused his quarrel with the

object of giving trouble to Philippe le Bel; but, though the affair was

pursued for some years, the inquisitorial sentence held good. It was not

only the actual heretics and their descendants who were dispossessed.

The land had been so deeply tinctured with heresy that there were few

indeed whose ancestors could not be shown, by the records of the

Inquisition, to have incurred the fatal taint of associating with

them.[123]

The rich bourgeoisie of the cities were ruined in the same way. Some

inventories have been preserved of the goods and chattels sequestrated

when the arrests were made at Albi in 1299 and 1300, which show how

thoroughly everything was swept into the maelstrom. That of Raymond

Calverie, a notary, gives us every detail of the plenishing of a

well-to-do burgher's house--every pillow, sheet, and coverlet is

enumerated, every article of kitchen gear, the salted provisions and

grain, even his wife's little trinkets. His farm or bastide was

subjected to the same minuteness of seizure. Then we have a similar

insight into the stock and goods of Jean Baudier, a rich merchant. Every

fragment of stuff is duly measured--cloths of Ghent, Ypres, Amiens,

Cambray, St. Omer, Rouen, Montcornet, etc., with their valuation--pieces

of miniver, and other articles of trade. His town house and farm were

inventoried with the same conscientious care. It is easy to see how

prosperous cities were reduced to poverty, how industry languished, and

how the independence of the municipalities was broken into subjection in

the awful uncertainty which hung over the head of every man.[124]

In this respect the Inquisition was building better than it knew. In

thus aiding to establish the royal power over the newly-acquired

provinces, it was contributing to erect an authority which was destined

in the end to reduce it to comparative insignificance. With the

disappearance of Catharism, Languedoc became as much a part of the

monarchy as l'Isle de France, and the career of its Inquisition merges

into that of the rest of the kingdom. It need not, therefore, be pursued

separately further.