ABOLITION OF THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.
Modern operations of the Inquisition in Spain--Effects of the
French revolution--The Chevalier de St. Gervais--Napoleon decrees
the abolition of the Inquisition--Its demolition by Colonel
Lehmanowsky--Its revival by Ferdinand VII.--Its final overthrow by
the Cortes--Its victims.
Light and knowledge continued to advance in Europe during the eighteenth
century. Every intelligent mind perceived by this means the enormous
superstitions and cruelty of the papacy; but these advantages, without
the blessed principles of the Scriptures, leaving men ignorant of true
Christianity, generated infidelity. The papal priesthood, therefore, by
whom the sacred books had been taken from the people, suffered a fearful
retribution from the infidels in France, in the revolution at the close
of the century. The whole Continent was scourged by this event, in the
order of Divine Providence. Still the Inquisition carried on its
pernicious operations in several countries, particularly in Spain,
though its doom was sealed and its overthrow determined. Its deeds,
however, were less shocking; but its modern character may be learned
from a few facts.
Concerning the Drama in Spain, Sismondi remarks, that “the Lives of the
Saints were represented publicly, with the approbation and applause of
the Inquisition, in the eighteenth century. But whilst the taste of the
people was so eager for this kind of spectacle, and whilst it was
encouraged by the clergy, and supported by the Inquisition, the Court,
enlightened by criticism and by a better taste, was desirous of rescuing
Spain from the scandalous reproach which these pretended pious
representations excited among strangers. Charles III., in 1765,
prohibited the further performance of religious plays and _autos
sacramentales_; and the house of Bourbon had already deprived the people
of another recreation, not less dear to them--the _autos da fé_. After
the extinction of the Spanish branch of the house of Austria, the
Inquisition was no longer allowed to destroy its victims in public; but
it has continued, even to our days, to exercise the most outrageous
cruelties on them in its dungeons.”
While many wretched beings were sacrificed in private, perishing in the
horrid prisons, those who were liberated carried marks of their fearful
treatment all through life. Every prisoner, before being dismissed, was
bound, under a dreadful curse, to observe the most profound silence as
to all that he had seen, and heard, and uttered in the Inquisition. Mr.
Townsend relates, that the Dutch consul, with whom he became acquainted
during his travels in Spain, in 1787, could never be prevailed on to
give an account of his imprisonment in the Inquisition at Barcelona,
which happened thirty-five years before, and betrayed the greatest
agitation when pressed to say anything about the treatment he had
received. His fellow-prisoner, Mr. Falconet, who was but a boy, turned
grey-headed during his short confinement; and to the day of his death,
though retired to Montpelier, observed the most tenacious silence on the
subject.
Inquisitorial domination, however, was at length overthrown by the
French Catholic soldiers under Buonaparte. While the troops of France
made progress in Spain, in 1807, the Chevalier de St. Gervais, a French
officer, was seized and imprisoned by the inquisitors of Barcelona. One
day, “after dinner,” he says, “I went to take a walk on that beautiful
terrace, which extends along the port in that part called
_Barcelonette_. The sides of this walk, which is named the _Longa_, are
adorned with fine buildings. I was tranquilly enjoying this delightful
place, and the serene evening of the fine day, when, suddenly, six men
surrounded and commanded me to follow them. I replied by a firm refusal;
whereupon one of them seized me by the collar. I instantly assailed him
with a violent blow on the face, which caused him to bellow with pain;
but in an instant the whole band pressed on me so closely, that I was
obliged to draw my sword. I fought as long as I was able; but not being
possessed of the strength of Antæus or Hercules, I was at last compelled
to yield. The ruffians endeavoured to inspire me with respect and dread,
by saying that they were familiars of the Holy Office. I submitted to
force, and was taken to the prisons of the Inquisition.
“As soon as I found myself within the talons of these vultures, I began
to ask myself what was my crime, and what I had done to incur the
censure of this hateful tribunal. ‘Have these Jacobin monks,’ said I,
‘succeeded to the Druids, who called themselves the agents of the Deity,
and arrogated to themselves the right of excommunicating and putting to
death their fellow-citizens?’ My complaints were lost in empty air.
“On the following day, a Dominican, shrouded in hypocrisy, and with a
tongue of deceit, came to conjure me, by the bowels of Jesus Christ, to
confess my faults, in order to the attainment of my liberty. ‘Confess
your own faults first,’ said I to him; ‘ask pardon of God for your
hypocrisy and injustice. By what right do you arrest a gentleman, a
native of France, who is exempted from the jurisdiction of your infernal
tribunal, and who has done nothing in violation of the laws of this
country?’ ‘Oh! holy Virgin!’ said he, ‘you make me tremble! I will go
and pray to God in your behalf, and I hope he will open your eyes and
turn your heart!’ ‘Go, pray to the devil,’ said I to myself; ‘he is your
only divinity.’ However, on that same day, M. Aubert, having in vain
waited for me at the dinner-hour, sent to my hotel to inquire about me.
The landlord informed him that I had disappeared on the preceding
evening; that my luggage still remained in his custody, but that he was
entirely ignorant of what had become of me. This obliging gentlemen,
uneasy for my fate, made inquiries concerning me over the whole city,
but without being able to gain the smallest intelligence. Astonished at
this circumstance, he began to suspect that some indiscretion on my part
had drawn down upon me the vengeance of the Holy Office. He begged of
the captain-general to demand my enlargement. The inquisitors denied the
fact of my detention with the utmost effrontery of falsehood; but M.
Aubert, not being able to discover any other probable cause for my
disappearance, persisted in believing me to be a prisoner in the Holy
Office.
“Next day, the familiars came to conduct me before the three
inquisitors; they presented me with a yellow mantle to put on, but I
disdainfully rejected this Satanic livery. However, they persuaded me
that submission was the only means by which I could hope to recover my
liberty. I appeared, therefore, clad in yellow, with a waxtaper in my
hand, before these three priests of Pluto. In the chamber was displayed
the banner of the Holy Office, on which were represented a gridiron, a
pair of pincers, and a pile of wood, with these words--‘JUSTICE,
CHARITY, MERCY.’ What an atrocious piece of irony! I was tempted more
than once to singe, with my blazing taper, the hideous visage of one of
these Jacobins, but my good genius prevented me. One of them advised me,
with an air of mildness, to confess my sins. ‘My great sin,’ replied I,
‘is to have entered a country where the priests trample humanity under
foot, and assume the cloak of religion to persecute virtue and
innocence.’ ‘Is that all you have to say?’ ‘Yes, my conscience is free
from alarm, and from remorse. Tremble! if the regiment to which I belong
should hear of my imprisonment, they would trample over ten regiments of
Spaniards to rescue me from your barbarity.’ ‘God alone is master; our
duty is to watch over his flock, as faithful shepherds; our hearts are
afflicted at it, but you must return to your prison till you think
proper to make a confession of your fault.’ I then retired, casting upon
my judges a look of contempt and indignation.
“As soon as I returned to my prison, I most anxiously considered what
could be the cause of this severe treatment. I was far from suspecting
that it could be owing to my answer to the mendicant friar, concerning
the Virgin and her lights.” [One of these having come to his chamber,
presenting a purse, and begging a contribution for the tapers to be
lighted in honour of the Virgin; he replied, “My good father, the Virgin
has no need of lights; she needs only to go to bed at an early hour.”]
“However, M. Aubert, being persuaded that the Inquisition alone had been
the cause of my disappearance, placed spies upon all their steps. One of
these informed him that three monks of the Dominican order were about to
set out for Rome, being deputed to the conventual assembly, which was to
be held there. He immediately wrote to M. de Colet, commandant at
Perpignan, to inform him how I had disappeared, of his suspicions as to
the cause, and of the passage of the three Jacobins through Perpignan,
desiring him to arrest them, and not set them at liberty, till I should
be released.
“M. de Colet embraced with alacrity this opportunity of vengeance, and
issued orders at the gates of the town to seize the three reverend
personages. They arrived about noon, with high spirits and keen
appetites, and demanded of the sentinel which was the best hotel. The
officer of the guard presented himself, and informed them that he was
commissioned to conduct them to the commandant of the place, who would
provide for them lodging and entertainment. The monks, rejoiced at this
lucky windfall, overflowed with acknowledgments, and declared they could
not think of incommoding the commandant. ‘Come, good fathers, M. de
Colet is determined to do you the honours of the city.’ In the meantime
he provided them an escort of four soldiers and a sergeant. The fathers
marched along with joy, congratulating one another, and delighted with
the politeness of the French. ‘Good fathers,’ said M. de Colet, ‘I am
delighted to have you in this city. I expected you impatiently, and have
provided you a lodging.’ ‘Ah, Monsieur Commandant, you are too good; we
are undeserving.’ ‘Pardon me; have you not, in your prison at Barcelona,
a French officer, the Chevalier de St. Gervais?’ ‘No, M. Commandant, we
have never heard of any such person.’ ‘I am sorry for that, for you are
to be imprisoned, and to live upon bread and water, until this officer
be forthcoming.’ The reverend fathers, exceedingly irritated, exclaimed
against this violation of the law of nations, and then said they
resigned themselves to the will of heaven, and that the commandant
should answer, before God and the Pope, for the persecution which he was
about to exercise against members of the church. ‘Yes,’ said the
commandant, ‘I take the responsibility upon myself; meanwhile, you will
repair to the citadel.’
“Now, behold the three hypocrites, in a narrow prison, condemned to the
regimen of the Pauls and the Hilaries, uttering the loudest exclamations
against the system of fasting and the commandant. Every day the
purveyor, when he brought them their pitcher of water and portion of
bread, demanded whether they had anything to declare relative to the
French officer. For three days they persisted in replying in the
negative; but, at length, the cries, not of their consciences, but of
their stomachs, and their weariness of this mode of life, overcame their
obstinacy. They begged an interview with M. de Colet, who instantly
waited on them. They confessed that a young French officer was confined
in the prisons of the Holy Office, on account of the impious language he
had held respecting the Virgin. ‘Undoubtedly he has acted improperly,’
said M. de Colet; ‘but allow the Virgin to avenge herself. Write to
Barcelona, to set this gentleman at liberty; in the interim I will keep
you as hostages, but I will mitigate your sufferings, and your table
shall be less frugally supplied.’ The monks immediately wrote to give
liberty to the accursed Frenchman.
“During this interval, vexations, impatience, and weariness took
possession of my soul, and made me weary of life. At length, the
Inquisition, reading their brethren’s letter, perceived themselves under
the necessity of releasing their prey. One of them came to inform me
that, in consideration of my youth, and of my being a native of France,
the Holy Office had come to the determination to set me free; but that
they required me for the future to have more respect for La Madonna, the
mother of Jesus Christ. ‘Most reverend father,’ replied I, ‘the French
have always the highest respect for the ladies.’ Uttering these words, I
rushed towards the door, and when I got into the street, I felt as if I
were raised from the tomb once more to life!”
Charles IV. abdicated the throne of Spain, and was succeeded by his son,
Ferdinand VII., in 1808; but Napoleon Buonaparte soon compelled him to
resign his throne, appointing his own brother Joseph to the throne,
while he marched to the capital, and took Madrid on the 4th of December.
Knowing the horrid character of the Holy Office, the same day he decreed
the suppression of the Inquisition, that its revenues might be applied
to the purposes of the government.
Pursuant to this decree, the palace of the Inquisition was demolished,
some months after, in revenge for an outrage upon Colonel Lehmanowsky,
an officer of the French army. His report of it confirms many of the
foregoing details of that dreadful place. He states,--
“In the year 1809, I was attached to that part of Napoleon’s army which
was stationed at Madrid. Soult was commander-in-chief and governor of
the city. My regiment was the 9th Polish Lancers.
“One night, about ten or eleven o’clock, as I was walking alone in one
of the streets of Madrid, two armed men sprang upon me from a doorway; I
instantly drew my sword, and defended myself as best I could from their
furious attack. While struggling with them, I saw at a distance,
crossing the top of the street, the lights of the mounted patrols.
French soldiers on guard, with lanterns, rode through the streets of the
city at all hours of the night to preserve order. I called to them in
French, and as they hastened to my help, my assailants took to their
heels; not, however, before I saw by their dress that they belonged to
the guards of the Inquisition. Having been in the habit of speaking
freely among the people what I thought of the priests and Jesuits, and
the Inquisition, I have no doubt that these men were set to watch for
me, and to assassinate me. It had been decreed by Napoleon that the
Inquisition and the monasteries should be suppressed. Months, however,
had passed away, without the decree being executed.
“I went that night directly to Marshal Soult, told him what had taken
place, and reminded him of the emperor’s decree. He said, I might go the
next morning, and destroy the Inquisition; giving me charge, at the same
time, to take care of the pictures, library, and other things of value.
I replied, that my regiment was not sufficient for such a service, but
if he would give me the 117th of the line, and another regiment, which I
named, I would undertake the work. The colonel of the 117th, Colonel De
Lile, was an intimate friend of my own, and is now the pastor of an
evangelical church in France. Marshal Soult gave me the troops required.
That night the expedition was arranged, and next morning we proceeded at
break of day to the Inquisition, which was about five miles distant from
the city.
“A wall of great strength surrounded the buildings. I went forward with
a company of soldiers, and addressing one of the sentinels on the wall,
summoned those within to surrender, and to open the gates to the
imperial army. The man withdrew, and after conversation apparently with
someone within, he re-appeared, presented his musket, and shot one of my
men. This was a signal of attack, and returning to my troops, who had
halted at a distance out of sight, I ordered them to advance, and to
fire upon those who appeared on the walls.
“It was soon obvious that it was an unequal warfare. The garrison was
numerous, and on the walls there was a strong breastwork, from behind
which they kept up a destructive fire upon our men on the open plain. We
had no cannon; our scaling ladders were insufficient, the walls being
higher than we expected; and the gates resisted all attempts at forcing
them. Wishing to get through the work as quietly, as well as quickly, as
possible, I directed some trees to be cut down and trimmed, to be used
as battering rams. Selecting a place where the ground sloped a little
toward the wall, and so gave advantage to my men to cover with their
fire those engaged in the assault, two of these battering rams were
brought to bear upon the walls. Presently the walls began to tremble; a
breach was made, and the imperial troops rushed into the Inquisition.
“Here we met with a scene, for which nothing but jesuitical effrontery
is equal. The inquisitor-general, followed by the fathers in their
robes, all presented themselves, as we were making our way into the
interior of the place, with their arms crossed on their breasts, their
fingers resting on their shoulders, as though they had been deaf to all
the noise of the attack and defence, and had just learned what was going
on. They addressed themselves in the language of rebuke to their own
soldiers, saying, ‘Why do you fight our friends the French?’
“Their intention, no doubt, was to make us think that the defence was
wholly unauthorised by them, hoping, if they could make us believe that
they were friendly, they should have a better opportunity of escaping.
Their shallow artifice did not succeed. I ordered them to be placed
under guard, and all the soldiers of the Inquisition, who had not
escaped in the confusion, to be secured as prisoners.
“We then proceeded to explore the rooms of the stately edifice. We
passed through hall after hall, richly furnished; we found splendid
paintings; a rich and extensive library; and everywhere beauty,
splendour, and order, such as I had never seen in any palace. The
architecture, the furniture, the ornaments, were such as pleased the eye
and gratified the taste. But where were the gloomy cells and horrid
instruments of torture, which one had been taught to expect to find in
an Inquisition? We looked for them in vain. The holy fathers seemed
surprised at our expecting to find any such things; assured us that they
had been belied; and that the holy Catholic church, in this as in other
things, was grossly misrepresented.
“Although I saw through the cunning villany of the fathers in these
remarks, and knew how the Romish church always affects to deny its
crimes and cruelties when it carries them into execution, I was ready to
believe, after our careful search, that this Inquisition was different
from others of which I had heard. My friend, De Lile, was not, however,
so easily convinced. ‘Colonel,’ said he to me, ‘you are commander
to-day, and as you say, so it must be; but if you will be advised by me,
let us have another search; I do not believe we have seen everything
yet. We accordingly again began to explore, especially in the parts
under ground. By marking well what portion of the buildings we were
beneath, we found that we had been under every part, except the great
chapel of the Inquisition, and the buildings adjoining. The floor of
this chapel was formed of vast slabs of rich marble. The floors of the
other parts of the Inquisition were either of marble or of highly
polished wood. We could find no entrance to vaults, or other indication
of anything being below the chapel. Being now ready to give up the
search, a thought struck Colonel De Lile, who was still sanguine of
discovery. ‘Let us get water,’ he said, ‘and pour it over this floor,
and see if there is any place where it passes through more freely than
others. Water was immediately brought, and a careful examination made of
every seam, none of the slabs being cemented, to see if the water passed
through. Presently one of the soldiers cried out that he had found it!
By the side of one of the marble slabs the water was passing through
fast, as though there were an opening beneath. All hands were now set at
work for further discovery. The officers with their swords, and the men
with their bayonets, were trying to clear out the seam and to raise the
slab. Others began to strike the slab, with all their might, with the
butts of their muskets, in order to break it. The fathers, who had been
looking on with the greatest dismay, now broke out in loud remonstrance
against our desecration of their holy and beautiful house. As they were
thus engaged, one of the soldiers, who was busy with the butt of his
musket, struck a part of the marble under which was a spring, and the
slab partly flew up; then the faces of the inquisitors grew pale, and
they trembled, as Belshazzar, when the handwriting appeared on the wall.
The marble slab being raised, the top of a staircase appeared. I stepped
to the altar, and took one of the long candles which was burning, some
of my men doing the same, that we might see to explore what was below.
One of the inquisitors here came up to me, and laying his hand gently on
my arm, said, with a demure and holy look, ‘My son, you must not take
those lights with your bloody hands; they are holy.’ ‘Well,’ said I,
pushing him back, ‘I will take a holy thing to shed light on iniquity; I
will bear the responsibility.’ We proceeded down the staircase.
“On reaching the floor, the first room we entered was a large square
hall, on one side of which was a raised platform with seats, the
centre one being raised considerably, being the throne of the
inquisitor-general. In the centre of the hall was a large block, with a
chain fastened to it, where the accused were chained during their
examinations.
“On leaving the hall of judgment, we proceeded along a passage with
numerous doors. These were the cells of solitary imprisonment, from
which the miserable victims were never brought out, except it were for
torture. Within some of these cells we heard sounds as we advanced. On
opening the doors we witnessed such sights as I wish never to see again,
the details of which are too horrible to relate. _In some cells we found
bodies apparently but a short time dead. Others were in various stages
of decay; and we saw some, of which little but the bones remained, still
fixed by chains to the floor of the dungeon._ To prevent this corruption
being offensive to the occupants of the Inquisition, there were flues
extending along the roofs of the cells and carrying the odour off to the
open air. _Among the living prisoners we found aged men and women of
threescore years and ten, youths and girls of fourteen or fifteen, and
others in the prime of life._ Some had been there for many years, and
had lost count of the time since they entered. The soldiers went to work
to release them from their chains, and took from their knapsacks their
over-coats and other clothing to cover their nakedness. They were eager
to be taken to the light of day, but having heard of the danger of this,
I caused food to be given to them, and then directed them gradually to
be brought out to the light as they were able to bear it.
“We then proceeded to explore another room where there were instruments
of torture. One of these was a machine, on which the victim was
stretched, and every joint of the body, beginning with the fingers, was
racked, until the sufferer swooned away or died. Another engine
consisted of a box, in which the head and neck were immoveably confined
by a screw, and over this box was a vessel, from which, drop by drop,
water fell every second upon the head. This perpetual drop, falling on
the same spot, caused most excruciating agony--agony, ending, ere long,
in raving madness. Another infernal machine lay along horizontally, to
which the sufferer was bound, and then was placed between two beams, on
which scores of knives were fixed, so that by turning the machine with a
crank, the flesh was torn from the limbs in small pieces. A fourth
machine surpassed the others in fiendish ingenuity. Its exterior was a
beautiful woman, richly dressed, with arms extended to embrace the
victim; around her feet a semicircle was drawn. Whoever stepped over
this line touched a spring, which caused the diabolical engine to open,
and a thousand knives pierced him with deadly force.
“The sight of these engines of infernal cruelty kindled the fury of the
soldiers, already enraged with the resistance they met with, and the
death of their comrades in assaulting the walls. They declared that they
would put their prisoners to the torture. I could not stem their fury.
They began with the holy fathers. They put one on the machine for
racking the joints. Another was put under the dropping water, and
terrible was the agony he seemed to suffer. The inquisitor-general was
brought before the machine called ‘The Virgin,’ and commanded to kiss
it. ‘You have caused others to kiss it,’ said the soldiers, ‘now you
must do it.’ They pointed their bayonets, and pushed him over the fatal
circle. The beautiful image instantly prepared for the embrace, clasped
him in its arms, and he was cut to pieces. My heart sickened at this
awful scene, and I saw no more.
* * * * *
“In the meantime, the report had reached Madrid, that the prisons of the
Inquisition were open! Multitudes already were hastening to the place.
Fathers there were who found long-lost daughters; mothers their sons;
wives were restored to their husbands; sisters and brothers met once
more. Some were friendless and unrecognised. The scene of mingled joy,
surprise, and anguish, no tongue could describe.
“While this was going on,” said Colonel Lehmanowsky, “I gave orders for
the library, paintings, and furniture to be carefully removed, and sent
to the city for a large quantity of gunpowder. Placing this in the
vaults and subterranean places of the buildings, and a slow match being
set, we all withdrew to a distance, and awaited the result in silence.
Presently, loud cheers rent the air; the walls and turrets of the
massive structure rose majestically towards the heavens, impelled by the
tremendous explosion, and fell back to the earth--a vast heap of ruins.
The Inquisition was no more!”
Terrible as was this overthrow of the Inquisition at Madrid, it still
existed in other cities of Spain; and Mr. Jacobs, travelling in that
country, was permitted, in 1809, to view some of the buildings of the
Holy Office at Seville. But he was allowed to see only the light, clean,
and cheerful apartments, being unable to obtain any reply to his
inquiries, whether there were any prisoners in dungeons, or any
instruments of torture!
Intelligence continued to advance in Spain, and a reformation seemed
determined on; so that, in 1813, the Cortes decreed the abolition of the
Inquisition in every part of the country, as pernicious to the interests
of the community, and incompatible with the constitution. But Ferdinand
being restored to the throne, he entered Madrid, May 14, 1814; and,
influenced by the priesthood, issued his proclamation, on the 21st of
July, for the re-establishment of the Holy Office. He gave intimation of
some alteration in its mode of administration; and Don Francisco Xavier,
“the most excellent lord-inquisitor-general,” published his first edict,
April 5, 1815. Little improvement was effected in the court; yet it was
restrained by being partially under secular authority. In 1820, however,
the Cortes finally abolished the Inquisition, and it has never since
been restored in Spain.
Blaquire, the historian of the Spanish Revolution, states, in writing
from Madrid, in October, 1820,--“If reports which I have heard both here
and at Saragossa be true, the torture must have been resorted to in
several instances. Amongst the memoranda found on the walls of the
Inquisition here, one, after declaring the innocence of the writer,
points out _his mother as his accuser_; another seems to have been
traced by a victim upon whom the torture of _la pendola_ had been
exercised. This was performed by placing the sufferer in a chair sunk
into the earth, and letting water fall on the crown of his head, from a
certain height, in single drops. Though far from appearing so, the
_pendola_ is supposed to have been the most painful operation practised
by the defenders of the faith. In a third inscription, dated on the 11th
of November, 1818, the writer complains of having been shut up for a
political offence, and in consequence of a false denunciation.”
When the Inquisition was thrown open, in 1820, by order of the Cortes,
_twenty-one_ prisoners were found in it, not one of whom knew the name
of the city in which he was; some had been confined three years, some a
longer period, and not one knew perfectly the nature of the crime of
which he was accused. One of these prisoners had been condemned, and was
to have suffered on the following day. His punishment was to be death by
the _pendulum_. The method of thus destroying the victim was as
follows:--The condemned was fastened in a groove upon a table, on his
back; suspended above him was a pendulum, the edge of which was sharp;
and it was so constructed as to become longer with every movement. The
wretch saw this implement of destruction swinging to and fro above him,
and every moment the keen edge approaching nearer and nearer; at length
it cut the skin of his nose, and gradually cut on until life was
extinct. This, it appears, was one of the substitutes for the more
barbarous exhibitions in public, when the inquisitors did not dare to
perform an _auto da fé_. And this, let it be remembered, was one of the
modes of punishing those accused of heresy, by the secret tribunal of
the Romish Inquisition, A.D. 1820!
Spain still groans under the dreadful domination of popery. Christian
liberty is unknown to her people. They are kept by the Romish priesthood
in a state of the most debasing ignorance, bound with the chains of a
deplorable superstition. They are still held by the gloomy spirit of the
Inquisition, though its courts are not in operation; but the more
intelligent--and the number of this class, even in Spain, is believed to
be increasing--enumerate, with horror, its past victims. The most
complete estimate of the wretched sufferers by the “Holy Office” has
been made by Jean Antoine Llorente, Secretary of the Inquisition at
Madrid, in 1789-1790. In the “Preface” to his valuable “History” of that
court, he says, “My perseverance has been crowned with success far
beyond my hopes; for, in addition to an abundance of materials, obtained
with labour and expense, consisting of unpublished manuscripts and
papers mentioned in the inventories of deceased inquisitors and other
officers of the institution, in 1809, 1810, and 1811, when the
Inquisition in Spain was suppressed, _all the archives were placed at my
disposal_; and, from 1809 to 1812, I collected everything that appeared
to me of consequence in the registers of the council of the Inquisition,
and in the provincial tribunals, for the purpose of compiling this
History.”
Llorente gives the following as the total numbers of the victims,
ascertained from the records of the Inquisition in Spain:--
Persons who were condemned and perished
in the flames 31,912
Persons burnt in effigy 17,659
Persons condemned to severe penances 291,450
-------
Total 341,021
Besides these, however, it is presumed that very many died under torture
by the inquisitors, and that large numbers perished in prison, without
any record on earth being made of their sufferings or their names. The
last person that was publicly burnt by the inquisitors in Spain, is said
to have been a Beata; and she was charged with having entered into a
compact with the devil: she suffered, November 7th, 1781.
Spain, at present, is proverbial for its degradation, under the
blighting intolerance and bigotry of popery. This is testified by
intelligent travellers, who represent the debasement of the nation as
resulting from the past operations and the remaining spirit of the
Romish Inquisition. The testimony of two of these discriminating
observers of society may suffice for the present purpose.
Captain Widdrington, R.N., in his volumes on “Spain and the Spaniards,”
in 1843, cites from Gibbon, “What has Spain done with the _four hundred
cities_ she once possessed?” and replies, “Spain might answer to the
pithy question, ‘Ask the _church_, they can, perhaps, inform you.’ It
is not owing to the _church_,” he adds, “but to the ecclesiastical
bodies under that name, whose will was the law for so many ages, that
Spain has all but been erased from amongst the nations of the earth. The
persecutions of the Jews; the expulsion of the Moriseoes; the locking-up
of vast properties in mortmain; and the final establishment of the
dreadful tyranny, to consolidate and keep these enormities together,
have destroyed the resources of the country, and converted, probably,
one-half of the finest part of it into _despoblados_. These causes, and
not the discovery of America, have reduced this first of European
kingdoms to the state in which we behold it. Where are the forty towns
of Toledo, that have disappeared since the time of Philip II.? Ask the
_priesthood_, for they are the real authors of such destruction. Where
are the industrious people that teemed in Andalusia, the very names of
whose locations are lost, although they once filled the country along
the Guadalquivir, making it one vast garden and continued line of towns
and villages? Ask the advisers and directors of the Catholic kings. Who
have caused the reduction of Estremadura, nearly the most beautiful
region in all Europe, to a vast _despoblado_? The same authorities. Let
the traveller go from Burgos to Valladolid, and thence to Leon,
returning by Benevente, or shape his course as he may in that region, he
will see everywhere--amid the most fertile land, producing everything to
gladden the heart of man--little more than the ruins of decayed
villages and towns--the shadows and spectres of former wealth and
prosperity; the same heads and hands have produced these fatal
consequences--a state of things to which there is, happily, no parallel
in Europe!”
Again, this intelligent author remarks:--“There is one very important
historical fact to notice, which may help to explain some of the
anomalies now daily being manifested. Until this generation, the ruling,
consolidating, all-pervading, and all-managing principle of the
government was the ecclesiastical power. This was the lever that raised
the nation, and kept it up during the war of independence. Now this
cause having been removed, as we have seen, rather abruptly--not lowered
by gradual progress, but suddenly, and to many, unexpectedly--as yet no
counterpoise has been applied to supply the place; so that the people,
in the time of public excitement, are like a vessel that has suddenly
lost her rudder in an Atlantic gale.”
Mr. Hughes, in his “Revelations in Spain, in 1845,” states the hatred
cherished by the Spaniards against the English--though so deeply
indebted to our country for having effectually aided them against the
French and Napoleon--on account of our being Protestants, of whose
religious principles they are profoundly ignorant, through the
misrepresentations of their Romish priests; and he remarks, “If there is
no Inquisition now-a-days invested with the ancient terrors, the dregs
of its spirit survives in enforced religious observances. The regulation
enforced by the council of Lateran, which requires every member of the
Catholic church to approach the sacraments of confession and communion
at Easter time, is sought to be made universally stringent to this day,
not by the exploded horrors of excommunication and deprivation of
Christian burial, but by minor pains and penalties. A fine is levied
from every person who does not perform these religious functions at
Easter. The poorer classes throng the churches in crowds during the
latter weeks of Lent. The overworked clergy perform their duties in a
necessarily brief and perfunctory manner; ten minutes dispose of each
loaded conscience, and absolution is pronounced. Perhaps the worst
feature of the system is the coercion exercised upon the female
population of Spain. No young woman can manage to get married, unless
she produce a certain number of tickets from her parish clergyman,
attesting her regular approach to the tribunal of penance at stated
intervals. There is need of much reformation in these respects; but
there are few indications of an apostolical spirit in Spain; few tokens
of the energy of good ecclesiastics!”
Testimonies of this kind might be multiplied, from most respectable
authors, regarding the condition of Spain, not only declaring the
desolation of that beautiful country, but affirming that the
superstition and degradation of its people arise from the blind policy,
and the intolerant operations of popery.
Spanish priests, educated and disciplined according to the established
principles of the Romish court, may well be presumed to be ignorant, in
a great degree, that the evils afflicting their country result from
their ecclesiastical system. But it can hardly be supposed that all of
them are entirely ignorant of the Holy Scriptures, and the national
benefits that flow from the acknowledgment of them as the Divine rule of
Christianity. Many of them must have become acquainted with the sacred
doctrines and holy maxims of the oracles of God; and, therefore, a
fearful amount of guilt must attach to the superiors in the priesthood.
They must be regarded as responsible to the Almighty for the evils
prevailing in their country, and they must merit the severest
denunciations uttered against the Scribes and Pharisees, who by their
traditions made void the law of God. And while, by their priestcraft and
disallowance of the Scriptures, they injure both the temporal and
eternal interests of their people, the priests in Spain must incur the
righteous displeasure of the Eternal Judge!