Chapter XXXVI

Previous to continuing our narrative, it may be as well to give

our readers some little insight into the nature, ceremonies, and

regulations of the Inquisition; and in describing that of Goa, we may

be said to describe all others, with very trifling, if any, variation.

The Santa Casa, or Inquisition of Goa, is situated on one side of a

large square, called the Terra di Sabaio. It is a massive handsome

pile of stone buildings, with three doors in the front: the centre one

is larger than the two lateral, and it is through the centre door that

you go into the Hall of Judgment. The side-doors lead to spacious and

handsome apartments for the Inquisitors, and officers attached to the

establishment.

Behind these apartments are the cells and dungeons of the Inquisition;

they are in two long galleries, with double doors to each, and are

about ten feet square. There are about two hundred of them; some are

much more comfortable than the others, as light and air are admitted

into them: others are wholly dark. In the galleries the keepers watch,

and not a word or a sound can proceed from any cell without their

being able to overhear it. The treatment of those confined is, as

far as respects their food, very good: great care is taken that the

nourishment is of that nature that the prisoners may not suffer from

the indigestion arising from want of exercise. Surgical attendance

is also permitted them; but, unless on very particular occasions,

no priests are allowed to enter. Any consolation to be derived from

religion, even the office of confessor and extreme unction, in case

of dissolution, are denied them. Should they die during their

confinement, whether proved guilty or not of the crime of which they

are accused, they are buried without any funeral ceremony, and tried

afterwards, if then found guilty, their bones are disinterred, and the

execution of their sentence is passed upon their remains.

There are two Inquisitors at Goa: one the Grand Inquisitor, and

the other his second, who are invariably chosen from the order

of St-Dominique; these two are assisted in their judgment and

examinations by a large number selected from the religious orders,

who are termed deputies of the Holy Office, but who only attend when

summoned: they have other officers, whose duty it is to examine all

published books, and ascertain if there is anything in their pages

contrary to the holy religion. There is also a public accuser, a

procureur of the Inquisition, and lawyers, who are permitted to plead

the case of the prisoners, but whose chief business and interest it is

to obtain their secrets and betray them. What are termed _Familiars_

of the Inquisition, are, in fact, nothing but this description of

people: but this disgraceful office is taken upon themselves by the

highest nobility, who think it an honour as well as a security, to be

enrolled among the Familiars of the Inquisition, who are thus to

be found dispersed throughout society; and every careless word, or

expression, is certain to be repeated to the Holy Office. A summons

to attend at the Inquisition is never opposed; if it were, the whole

populace would rise and enforce it. Those who are confined in the

dungeons of the Inquisition are kept separate; it is a very uncommon

thing to put two together: it is only done when it is considered that

the prolonged solitude of the dungeon has created such a depression

of spirits as to endanger the life of the party. Perpetual silence is

enjoined and strictly kept. Those who wail or weep, or even pray, in

their utter darkness, are forced by blows to be quiet. The cries

and shrieks of those who suffer from this chastisement, or from

the torture, are carried along the whole length of the corridors,

terrifying those who, in solitude and darkness, are anticipating the

same fate.

The first question put to a person arrested by the Inquisition, is

a demand, "What is his property?" He is desired to make an exact

declaration of everything that he is worth, and swear to the truth of

his assertions; being informed that, if there is any reservation on

his part (although he may be at that time innocent of the charges

produced against him),--he will, by his concealment, have incurred the

wrath of the Inquisition; and that, if discharged for the crime he is

accused of, he will again be arrested for having taken a false oath to

the Inquisition; that, if innocent, his property will be safe, and not

interfered with. It is not without reason that this demand is made. If

a person accused confesses his crime, he is, in most cases, eventually

allowed to go free, but all his property becomes confiscated.

By the rules of the Inquisition, it is made to appear as if those

condemned have the show of justice; for, although two witnesses are

sufficient to warrant the apprehension of any individual, seven are

necessary to convict him; but as the witnesses are never confronted

with the prisoners, and torture is often applied to the witnesses, it

is not difficult to obtain the number required. Many a life is falsely

sworn away by the witness, that he may save his own. The chief crimes

which are noticed by the Inquisition are those of sorcery, heresy,

blasphemy, and what is called Judaism.

To comprehend the meaning of this last crime, for which more people

have suffered from the Inquisition than for any other, the reader must

be informed, that when Ferdinand and Isabella of Castile drove all the

Jews out of Spain, they fled to Portugal, where they were received on

the sole condition that they should embrace Christianity: this they

consented, or appeared to consent, to do; but these converts were

despised by the Portuguese people, who did not believe them to

be sincere. They obtained the title of _New_ Christians, in

contradistinction to that of _Old_ Christians. After a time the two

were occasionally intermingled in marriage; but when so, it was always

a reproach to the old families; and descendants from these alliances

were long termed, by way of reproach, as having a portion of the New

Christians in them.

The descendants of the old families thus intermingled, not only lost

_caste_, but, as the genealogy of every family was well known, they

were looked upon with suspicion, and were always at the mercy of the

Holy Office, when denounced for Judaism,--that is, for returning

to the old Jewish practices of keeping the Passover, and the other

ceremonies enforced by Moses.

Let us see how an accusation of this kind works in the hands of the

Inquisition. A really sincere Catholic, descended from one of these

unhappy families, is accused and arrested by the orders of the

Inquisition; he is ordered to declare his property, which,--convinced

of his innocence, and expecting soon to be released, he does without

reservation. But hardly has the key of the dungeon turned upon him,

when all his effects are seized and sold by public auction; it being

well understood that they never will be restored to him. After some

months' confinement, he is called into the Hall of Justice, and asked

if he knows why he is in prison; they advise him earnestly to confess

and to conceal nothing, as it is the only way by which he can obtain

his liberty. He declares his ignorance, and being sent for several

times, persists in it. The period of the _Auto da Fé_, or Act of

Faith, which takes place every two or three years (that is, the public

execution of those who have been found guilty by the Inquisition),

approaches. The public accuser then comes forward, stating that the

prisoner has been accused by a number of witnesses of Judaism. They

persuade him to acknowledge his guilt; he persists in his innocence;

they then pass a sentence on him, which they term _Convicto Invotivo_,

which means "found guilty, but will not confess his crime;" and he is

sentenced to be burnt at the approaching celebration. After this they

follow him to his cell, and exhort him to confess his guilt, and

promise that if he does confess he shall be pardoned; and these

appeals are continued until the evening of the day before his

execution. Terrified at the idea of a painful death, the wretch,

at last, to save his life, consents. He is called into the Hall of

Judgment, confesses the crime that he has not committed, and imagines

that he is now saved.--Alas! no; he has entangled himself, and cannot

escape.

"You acknowledge that you have been guilty of observing the laws of

Moses. These ceremonies cannot be performed alone; you cannot have

eaten the Paschal lamb _alone_; tell us immediately, who were those

who assisted at those ceremonies, or your life is still forfeited, and

the stake is prepared for you."

Thus has he accused himself without gaining anything, and if he wishes

to save his life he must accuse others; and who can be accused but

his own friends and acquaintances? nay, in all probability, his own

relations--his brothers, sisters, wife, sons or daughters--for it is

natural to suppose that in all such practices a man will trust only

his own family. Whether a man confesses his guilt, or dies asserting

his innocence, his worldly property is in either case confiscated; but

it is of great consequence to the Inquisition that he should confess,

as his act of confession, with his signature annexed, is publicly

read, and serves to prove to the world that the Inquisition is

impartial and just; nay, more, even merciful, as it pardons those who

have been proved to be guilty.

At Goa the accusations of sorcery and magic were much more frequent

than at the Inquisitions at other places, arising from the customs

and ceremonies of the Hindoos being very much mixed up with absurd

superstitions. These people, and the slaves from other parts, very

often embraced Christianity to please their masters; but since, if

they had been baptised and were afterwards convicted of any crime,

they were sentenced to the punishment by fire; whereas, if they had

not been baptised, they were only punished by whipping, imprisonment,

or the galleys; upon this ground alone many refused to embrace

Christianity.

We have now detailed all that we consider, up to the present,

necessary for the information of the reader; all that is omitted he

will gather as we proceed with our history.

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