Of these there were only two or three who merit special consideration.

Cazalla, on his trial, had at first equivocated and denied that he had

dogmatized, asserting that he had only spoken of these matters to those

already converted. As a rule, all the prisoners eagerly denounced their

associates; he may have been more reticent at first, for he was

sentenced to torture _in caput alienum_, but when stripped he promised

to inform against them fully, which he did, including Carranza among

those who had misled him as to purgatory.[1165] He recanted, professed

conversion and eagerly sought reconciliation. The tribunal insisted on

regarding him as chief of the conventicle and, on the afternoon

preceding the auto, it sent to his cell the prior of the Geronimite

convent of Nuestra Señora de Prado, with one of his monks, Fray Antonio

de la Carrera, to endeavor to extract further information. As officially

reported by Fray Antonio, they found him in a dark cell, loaded with

chains and with a _pié de amigo_ encircling his head. He greeted them

warmly but, when informed of their object, protested that he had nothing

to add to his confessions without bearing false witness against himself

or others. For two hours they labored with him in vain and then told him

that he was condemned to die. In the seclusion of his prison he knew

nothing of the papal brief; he had fully expected to be admitted to

reconciliation, and the announcement came like a thunder-stroke--one

version of the interview states that he fainted and lay insensible for

an hour; another, that he was incredulous, asking whether it could be

possible and whether there was no escape. He was told that he might be

saved if he would make a more complete confession, but he repeated that

he had already told the whole truth. Then he confessed sacramentally and

received absolution, after which he spent the time until morning in

begging mercy of God and thanking God for sending him this affliction

for his salvation; he blessed and praised the Holy Office and all its

ministers, saying that it had been founded, not by the hand of man but

by that of God; he willingly accepted the sentence, which was just and

merited; he did not wish for life and would not accept it for, as he had

misused it in the past, so would it be in the future. All this was

repeated when the usual confessors were admitted to his cell and, when

morning came and the sanbenito was brought, he kissed it, saying that he

put it on with more pleasure than any garment he had ever worn. He

declared that, when opportunity offered in the auto, he would curse and

detest Lutheranism and persuade everyone to do the same, with which

purpose he took his place in the procession.[1166]

So great was his emotional exaltation that he fulfilled this promise

with such exuberance during the auto that he had to be checked. After

the sentences were read and those who were to be relaxed were brought

down, when he reached the lowest step he met his sister, who was

condemned to perpetual prison; they embraced, weeping bitterly and, when

he was dragged away, she fell senseless. On the way to the brasero he

continued to exhort the people and directed his efforts especially to

the heroic Herrezuelo, who had stedfastly refused to abandon his faith

and was to be burnt alive. We might possibly feel some suspicion of the

accuracy of all this, especially as the Inquisition took the unusual

step of having an official report of his behavior drawn up and a briefer

one attested, June 5th, by Simon de Cabezon and Francisco de Rueda, the

notaries who recorded the delivery of the relaxed to the

magistrates.[1167] We have, however, the independent testimony of an

eye-witness, the Abbot Illescas, who tells us that, after the

degradation, Cazalla, with mitre on head and halter around his neck,

shed tears so copiously and loudly expressed his repentance with such

unexampled fervor that all present were satisfied that, through divine

mercy, he was saved. He said and did so many things that everyone was

moved to commiseration. Most of his comrades in death showed resignation

and all retracted publicly, though it was understood that with some this

was rather to escape burning alive than with any good purpose.[1168]

[Sidenote: _SECOND AUTO DE FE_]

It was otherwise with Herrezuelo, the only martyr in the group. He

avowed his faith and resolutely adhered to it, in spite of all effort to

convert him and of the dreadful fate in store for him. On their way to

the brasero, Cazalla wasted on him all his eloquence. He was gagged and

could not reply, but his stoical endurance showed his unyielding

pertinacity. When chained to the stake, a stone thrown at him struck him

in the forehead, covering his face with blood but, as we are told, it

did him no good. Then he was thrust through the belly by a pious

halberdier, but this moved him not and, when the fire was set, he bore

his agony without flinching and, to the general surprise, he thus ended

diabolically.[1169] Illescas, who stood so near that he could watch

every expression, reports that he seemed as impassive as flint but,

though he uttered no complaint and manifested no regret, yet he died

with the strangest sadness in his face, so that it was dreadful to look

upon him as on one who in a brief moment would be in hell with his

comrade and master, Luther.[1170]

Perhaps the most pitiful case of all was that of his young wife, Leonor

de Cisneros. But twenty-three years old, with life opening before her,

she had yielded so promptly to the methods of the Inquisition that she

escaped with perpetual prison. In the weary years of the _casa de la

penitencia_, the burden on her soul grew more and more unendurable and

the example of her martyred husband stood before her in stronger light.

At last she could bear the secret torture no longer; with clear

knowledge of her fate, she confessed her heresy and, in 1567, she was

put on trial again. As a relapsed there could be no mercy for her, but

recantation might at least preserve her from death by fire, and earnest

efforts were made to save her soul. They were unavailing; she declared

that the Holy Spirit had enlightened her and that she would die as her

husband had died, for Christ. Nothing could overcome her resolution and,

on September 28, 1568, she atoned for her weakness of ten years before

and was burnt alive as an obstinate impenitent.[1171]

The remainder of the Valladolid reformers were reserved for another

celebration, October 8th, honored with the presence of Philip II, who

obediently took the customary oath, with bared head and ungloved hand.

It was, if possible, an occasion of greater solemnity than the previous

one. A Flemish official, who was present, estimates the number of

spectators at two hundred thousand and, though he must have been

hardened to such scenes at home, he cannot repress an expression of

sympathy with the sufferers.[1172] Besides a Morisco who was relaxed, a

Judaizer reconciled and two penitents for other offences, there were

twenty-six Protestants. The lesson was the same as in the previous auto,

that few had the ardor of martyrdom. Thirteen had made their peace in

time to secure reconciliation or penance. Even Juana Sánchez, who had

managed to bring with her a pair of scissors and had cut her throat,

recanted before death, but her confession was considered imperfect and

she was burnt in effigy. Of the twelve relaxed in person, five

manifested persistence, but only in two cases did this withstand the

test of fire. Carlos de Seso was unyielding to the end and, when we are

told that he had to be supported by two familiars to enable him to stand

when hearing his sentence, we can guess the severity of torture endured

by him. Juan Sánchez was likewise pertinacious; when the fire was set it

burnt the cord fastening him to the stake; he leaped down and ran in

flames; it was thought that he wanted to confess but, when a confessor

was brought, he refused to listen to him; one account says that the

guards thrust him back into the flames, another, that he looked up and

saw Carlos de Seso calmly burning and himself leaped back into the

blazing pile. Fray Domingo de Rojas presented a brave front and, after

his degradation, addressed the king, asserting his heresies until

dragged away and gagged, but when brought to the stake his heart failed

him; he declared that he wished to die in the faith of Rome and was

garroted. It was the same with Pedro de Cazalla and Pedro de Sotelo, who

were gagged as unrepentant, but were converted at the brasero. Those who

had merited mercy by prompt confession and denunciation of accomplices

were, as a rule, not severely penanced and, in many cases, their

punishment was abbreviated.[1173] There would appear to have been some

especially severe disabilities inflicted on the descendants of Carlos de

Seso, extending to the female line, removable only by the Holy See for,

in 1630, Urban VIII, at the special request of Philip IV, granted to

Caterina de Castilla, grand-daughter of Isabel de Castilla, wife of

Carlos de Seso, a dispensation to hold honors and dignities, secular and

spiritual.[1174]

[Sidenote: _SEVILLE AUTO DE FE_]

Thus was exterminated the nascent Protestantism of Valladolid. Meanwhile

the Seville tribunal had been struggling with the mass of work thrown

upon it by the capture of Julian Hernández and Don Juan Ponce de Leon.

So numerous were the arrests that the rule had to be broken which

forbade the confinement of accomplices together and, as the circle

widened, arrests had to be postponed in expectation of an auto de fe

that should empty the cells until, on June 6, 1559, the tribunal asked

for power to requisition houses to serve as prisons. To hasten the work,

early in 1559, Bishop Munebrega of Tarazona, an old inquisitor, was sent

to Seville to aid the tribunal, but he was excessively severe, desiring

to burn everyone; he soon became involved in bickering and recrimination

with the inquisitors Carpio and Gasca, of whom he complained bitterly;

votes in discordia were frequent, appeals to the Suprema were constant

and the work was delayed.[1175] It was not until September 24, 1559,

that an auto could be celebrated. If all Old Castile had poured into

Valladolid, so all Andalusia manifested its religious zeal by crowding

into Seville. Three days in advance the people began to assemble, until

the city could hold no more and they were obliged to sleep in the

fields. The stagings and scaffoldings were on the most extensive scale

and a place was specially provided for the Duchess of Bejar and her

friends, who apparently desired the pleasure of seeing her kinsman, Juan

Ponce de Leon relaxed.[1176] As was so often the case, the solemnities

were somewhat marred by an unseemly contest for precedence, between the

civil and ecclesiastical authorities, which was renewed at the auto of

1560 and was not settled for several years.[1177]

The services of thirty-eight frailes and Jesuits were required to

prepare for their doom those who were to be relaxed. The most prominent

of the victims was Don Juan Ponce de Leon, who had remained hardened,

during his two years of confinement, in the belief that a man of his

rank would not be burnt. He was an ardent Protestant; he had founded in

his lands a sort of church, where worship was conducted in secret; he

had gone to the brasero where, raising his hands to heaven, he had

wished to God that he could be burnt there to ashes, with his wife and

children, in defence of his faith, and he had said that if he had an

income of twenty thousand ducats he would spend it all in evangelizing

Spain but, when he learned his fate that night, he professed conversion;

on the staging, he busied himself in urging his fellow-convicts to

abandon their errors, and he made an exemplary end with tears and

repentance. The next most conspicuous sufferer was the Licenciado Juan

González, a famous preacher. He was of Moorish descent and, when only

twelve years old, had been penanced at Córdova for Moorish errors.

Throughout his trial he had steadily refused to incriminate others and,

during the night, he answered the padres' exhortations with the psalms

of David. On the staging he talked heresy with his two sisters until he

was gagged and all three were burnt. The most interesting victim was

María de Bohorques, aged 26, natural daughter of Pero García de Xeres,

a prominent citizen of Seville. She was a disciple of Cassiodoro de

Reina, highly educated and thoroughly conversant with scripture, in both

its literal and spiritual senses. When the confessors entered her cell

that night, she received them pleasantly and expressed no surprise at

their fateful message. It was in vain that relays of frailes sought her

conversion--Dominicans following Jesuits and Franciscans succeeding to

Carmelites. She met all their arguments with biblical texts, and was the

only one of the condemned who defended her faith. Thus she passed the

night until summoned to the procession. On the staging Ponce de Leon

sought to convert her but she silenced him, saying that it was a time

for meditation on the Savior. She treated the frailes who surrounded her

as troublesome intermeddlers but, at three o'clock, she yielded to their

entreaties, relapsing soon afterwards, however, to her errors, and she

was burnt. Another prominent culprit was Hernando de San Juan, master of

the _Doctrina Christiana_ for children in Seville. He was an obstinate

heretic, who resisted all efforts at conversion. After his sentence was

read, the inquisitors asked whether he persisted in his errors, when he

emphatically answered in the affirmative. Thereupon he was gagged, which

he endured as though thanking God that it was given him to suffer for

His sake. At length, however, he was persuaded by the frailes to escape

burning alive by conversion, but his salvation, we are told, was

uncertain as he had been impenitent until then.[1178]

[Sidenote: _SEVILLE AUTOS DE FE_]

Altogether, at this auto, there were relaxed in person eighteen

Lutherans, besides the effigy of the fugitive Francisco de Zafra. Two of

these were foreigners--Carlos de Brujas, a Fleming and Antonio Baldie a

Frenchman, master of the ship Unicornio. Evidently full use was made of

the power to execute repentant converts, but whether any persisted to

the end and were burnt alive cannot be gathered with certainty from any

of the relations. The only guide we have is the general assertion of

Illescas that, in this and subsequent autos in Seville, there were forty

or fifty Lutherans executed, of whom four or five suffered themselves to

be burnt alive.[1179] Besides those executed there were eight Lutherans

reconciled, three abjured for vehement suspicion and ten for light

suspicion, making forty in all. Two houses were ordered to be torn down

and sowed with salt--those of Luis de Abrego and Isabel de Baena--which

had been used for meetings. There were also thirty-four culprits for

other offences--fourteen Moriscos of whom three were relaxed, one

Judaizer reconciled, four bigamists, two blasphemers, twelve for holding

fornication not to be a sin, and one false-witness, making a total of

seventy-four and giving the crowd ample entertainment.[1180]

The work went on with unrelaxing vigor, but it was not until December

22, 1560, that another gaol-delivery could be arranged. Of this auto we

have the dry official report, which shows that there were fourteen

relaxations in person and three in effigy, the latter being the deceased

Doctor Egidio and Doctor Constantino, and the fugitive Juan Pérez de

Pineda. There were fifteen reconciled and imprisoned, five abjurations

_de vehementi_ and three de levi, and there was one acquittal, making

forty-one in all, but soon afterwards there were sixteen Spaniards and

twenty-six foreigners discharged as innocent, showing how reckless and

indiscriminating had been the arrests. Whether any of the relaxed

persisted to the end and were burnt alive is not recorded, for the only

remark accompanying the report is that there were no offensive speeches,

because those likely to utter them were duly gagged in advance.[1181]

Of these there were two or three deserving special notice. At the head

of the list of sufferers stood Julian Hernández, who had left his safe

retreat in Frankfort on the desperate errand of evangelizing Spain. He

had lain three years in prison and, if González de Montes is to be

believed, he bore unshrinkingly repeated torture without betraying his

associates and, when carried back to his cell, would inspirit his

fellow-prisoners by chanting along the corridors

Vencidos van los frayles,

Vencidos van.

Corridos van los lobos,

Corridos van.

Montes adds that he persisted to the end, when, after the faggots were

lighted, a fraile had his gag removed in hopes of his yielding and,

disgusted with his obduracy, cried "Kill him! kill him!" when the guards

thrust their weapons into him. It may be hoped that he was spared the

final agonies, but there are not wanting indications that, towards the

close of his imprisonment, his resolution gave way and that he furnished

evidence against his comrades.[1182]

The one acquittal was that of Doña Juana de Bohorques, wife of Don

Francisco de Vargas and sister of the María de Bohorques who had

perished in the previous auto. She died in prison and it was her fame

and memory that were absolved. González de Montes says that her death

was caused by atrocious torture and the case has, thanks to Llorente,

served as a base for one of the severest accusations against the

Inquisition. In the absence of the documents the truth of the story

cannot be ascertained but, if true, it manifests more readiness to

render a righteous judgment at the cost of self-condemnation than we are

accustomed to attribute to the Inquisition.[1183]

[Sidenote: _SEVILLE AUTOS DE FE_]

Seville, as the chief commercial centre of Spain, naturally attracted

many merchants and mariners, and this auto furnishes an illustration of

inquisitorial methods in discouraging commerce. Among the relaxed there

were three foreigners--a Frenchman named Bartolomé Fabreo and two

Englishmen, William Bruq (Brooks) and Nicolas Bertoun (Burton or

Britton). Of the two former we know only their fate, but of the latter

we chance to have some details. Burton was a shipmaster or supercargo,

who made no secret of the reformed faith in which he had been trained,

wherefore he was arrested and all the merchandize in his charge was

sequestrated. One of the owners, seeking to recover his property, sent a

young man named John Frampton to reclaim it. After months of delay he

was told that his papers were insufficient, when he went back to London

and returned to Seville with what was needed. More delays ensued and

then he was cast into the secret prison on the charge that a suspicious

book had been found in his baggage--the book being an English

translation of Cato. His trial was protracted, though he made no secret

of his belief; he was tortured until he fainted and, when his endurance

was exhausted, he consented to adopt Catholicism. Burton was more

persistent and was burnt. Frampton, after fourteen months of

confinement, escaped with reconciliation, confiscation and a year of

sanbenito and prison, with orders never to leave Spain. All the goods

under Burton's charge were confiscated; Frampton figured his own loss at

£760 and the whole confiscations at the auto at the enormous sum of

£50,000--doubtless an exaggeration, but the whole affair indicates that

the profitable side of persecution was not lost to sight.[1184]

The next auto was celebrated April 26, 1562, and comprised forty-nine

cases of Lutheranism. There were nine relaxed in person and, as none of

them are described as obstinate, it may be assumed that all were

garrotted. There was one effigy of the dead and fifteen of fugitives. Of

the latter, nine were monks of San Isidro, among whom were Cipriano de

Valera and Cassiodoro de Reina. That the native stock of heretics was

becoming exhausted is seen in the fact that, of the thirty-three persons

figuring in the auto, twenty-one were foreigners, mostly Frenchmen. This

was followed by another auto, October 28th of the same year, in which

there were thirty-nine cases of Lutheranism, of which nine were

relaxations in person and three of fugitives in effigy, none of the

culprits being described as impenitent. There were nine reconciliations,

seventeen abjurations _de vehementi_ and one _de levi_. The number of

ecclesiastics is a noteworthy feature of this auto for, besides the

Prior of San Isidro, Maestro Garcí Arias Blanco, there were four priests

burnt in person and one in effigy, and seven who abjured _de vehementi_.

They contributed largely to the fines levied, amounting to 5050 ducats

and 50,000 maravedís, besides four confiscations of half the property.

It may be remarked, moreover, that the officers and crew of the ship

Angel seem to have fallen victims in a body, for three were burnt, six

were reconciled and four abjured _de vehementi_.[1185] Trading with

Spain was becoming more and more perilous.

The little band of Seville Protestants was thus almost rooted out, and

the succeeding autos show a constantly preponderating number of

foreigners. That of April 19, 1564, only presented six relaxations in

person and one in effigy, of which all the former were of Flemings, and

two abjurations _de vehementi_, both of foreigners.[1186] The next was

celebrated May 13, 1565, in which there were six relaxations in effigy

for Protestantism, the offenders having fled. Of these only two were

Spaniards, one being the last inculpated monk of San Isidro. Of seven

reconciliations, all were of foreigners, six being Flemish or Breton

sailors. Of five abjurations _de vehementi_, three were of Flemings.

There was also a cruel warning against harboring and protecting these

foreign heretics, for two Flemings of Puerto Real, for this offence,

were visited, one with four hundred lashes and the other with two

hundred, besides fines and banishment.[1187]

We have thus virtually reached the end of native Spanish Protestantism,

but the impression produced by the Valladolid and Seville heretics was

still profound. Philip II addressed, November 23, 1563, to the Spanish

bishops, a letter enlarging upon the efforts of the Lutherans to spread

their doctrines throughout Spain. In these perilous times, he says, the

Inquisition must be aided by having everywhere those who will report to

it all suspect of Lutheran or other errors. The bishop is to see to this

and also that preachers shall confine themselves to setting forth

Catholic belief, making no allusions to heresies, even to confute them.

Confessors are to be instructed to charge their penitents to denounce to

the Inquisition all whom they know to entertain these errors. No one is

to be allowed to teach school without a preliminary examination, by both

the ecclesiastical and secular authorities, who must be satisfied with

his character and habits.[1188] It is evident that extraordinary

precautions and universal vigilance were deemed necessary to exclude the

obnoxious doctrines.

[Sidenote: _MISSIONARY EFFORTS_]

Yet these efforts were rewarded with no new discoveries, for Spanish

Protestantism was a mere episode, of no practical moment save as its

repression fortified the Inquisition and led to the segregation of Spain

from the intellectual and industrial movement of the succeeding

centuries. A few sporadic cases may be noted from time to time, but the

persecution of Jew and Morisco had trained the nation too thoroughly in

enthusiastic fanaticism, and the organization of monarchy and Church was

too absolute for there to be any real danger that Protestantism could

obtain a foothold. Yet the danger was deemed so pressing that extreme

measures were justified to protect the land from the intrusion of

foreign ideas. Philip II had lost no time, after his return from

Flanders, in issuing the pragmática of November 22, 1559, by which all

Spanish youth studying abroad were ordered home within four months, and

all Spanish subjects for the future were forbidden to seek foreign lands

for study under penalty, for laymen, of confiscation and perpetual

exile, and for clerics, of forfeiture of temporalities and loss of

citizenship. The only exceptions allowed were the college of Albornoz in

Bologna and those of Rome and Naples, for Spaniards residing in Italy

and that of Coimbra for the professors there.[1189] It would be

difficult to exaggerate the unfortunate influence of this in retarding

Spanish development, yet it was but the first of a series of measures

which, by isolating Spain, crippled its energies in every direction.

The spectre of active proselytism on the part of Protestants abroad was

vigorously conjured up to stimulate vigilance and justify repression.

Undoubtedly the refugees in the Rhinelands and Switzerland were

earnestly desirous of evangelizing their native land, and they labored

industriously to this end, but the difficulties in the way were too

great and the reports as to their efforts were systematically

exaggerated. Carranza, in his defence, dwelt on his exertions in

Flanders to check this traffic, but though he was told of barrels full

of a forged letter of Philip II and of a papal bull, at the Frankfort

fair for shipment to Spain, and of shops in Medina del Campo and Málaga

to which heretic books were sent, the net results of his energy show how

little substratum of fact there was in all this.[1190] The career of

Julian Hernández proves that men who took their lives in their hands

might occasionally bring in a few books, but his fate was not

encouraging. If some times a missionary undertook such work his mission

was apt to be brief. Hughes Bernat of Grenoble landed at Lequeitio

(Biscay) August 10, 1559, on such an errand. On the road to Guadalupe he

fell in with a Minim named Fray Pedro, who pretended inclination to

Lutheranism and led Bernat to unbosom himself as to his plans and hopes,

resulting in his speedy arrest by the tribunal of Toledo, when he boldly

confessed as to himself and was tortured to discover his accomplices.

He was sentenced to relaxation in the auto of September 25, 1560, and as

he is not described as pertinacious, he probably professed conversion

when, for some reason, his sentence was not executed.[1191] In the trial

of Gilles Tibobil (or Bonneville), at Toledo, in 1564, we hear of

Francisco Borgoñon, a French haberdasher who, in his trips from France,

brought with him heretic books, but they were for the benefit of a

little Huguenot colony in Toledo; the number of such Frenchmen and

Flemings in Spain was large and this, rather than projects of

evangelization, probably explains the greater part of the smuggling,

attempted or performed.[1192]

[Sidenote: _MISSIONARY EFFORTS_]

There were constant rumors, however, of propagandism on a larger scale

which served to magnify the importance of the Inquisition and to justify

interference with commerce. In 1566, Don Francisco de Alava, a Spanish

envoy to France, was busy in Montpellier endeavoring to trace the agency

by which heretic books were conveyed to Catalonia, where the number of

Frenchmen was large,[1193] and, in the same year, Margaret of Parma,

from the Netherlands, sent to Philip the absurd statement that thirty

thousand of Calvin's books had been transmitted through Seville,

whereupon the Suprema issued vigorous orders for their seizure.[1194] In

January, 1572, it announced to all the tribunals that the Princess of

Béarn (Jeanne d'Albret) had recently held an assembly of Lutherans, in

which it was resolved to send some of their ministers in disguise to

Spain as missionaries. The utmost vigilance was enjoined to counteract

this effort; all the commissioners were to be warned and prelates be

asked to order all priests and preachers to be on the watch.[1195] In

June, 1578, it sent letters to a number of tribunals, stating that

advices from Valladolid showed that the heretics had printed a New

Testament in Spanish, with a Venetian imprint, and were flooding the

land with copies, and also that the heretic ministers had correspondents

in Spain. Great watchfulness was therefore commanded at all sea-ports

and frontier towns, and all persons found in possession of the

prohibited volume were to be sent to Madrid for trial. A month later,

this scare was renewed on the strength of information from Flanders, but

the records of the Toledo tribunal at this period do not indicate that

these efforts were rewarded with any captures.[1196]

Whatever proselyting zeal Protestantism may have had passed away with

the early years of the seventeenth century. The latest work of the kind

of which we hear is that, in 1603, the Prince of Anhalt introduced into

Seville a number of copies of the Bible of Cipriano de Valera and, when

Catherine, Duchess of Bar, sister of Henry IV, heard of this, she

ordered six hundred copies printed and sent a Huguenot gentleman, named

Hierosme de Taride, to the Duke of la Force at Pau, to learn how to

transmit them to Saragossa, when la Force gave him the names of parties

there who could be trusted to handle them, but the death of the duchess

in 1604 put an end to the project.[1197] The Thirty Years' War gave the

German Protestants ample occupation at home and, after the Peace of

Westphalia, proselytism was out of fashion.

Yet it was a curious episode of the War of Succession that when, in

1706, the Archduke Charles and his English allies seemed for a brief

space to be at the point of success, when all the kingdoms of the Crown

of Aragon had acknowledged him and he even for a time occupied Madrid,

the opportunity was seized to circulate a catechism of Anglican doctrine

in Spanish and other books prejudicial to the faith. The energetic

measures adopted by the Inquisition to meet this assault show the

strength of its apprehension. It ordered the most careful watch to be

kept at all ports and frontier towns. Edicts were to be published

forbidding these and all other works of evil doctrine introduced by

heretics, and inquisitors were told to be energetic in punishing the

guilty, enforcing their sentences by censures, interdicts and cessatio a

divinis when, if these proved futile they were to abandon, in solemn

procession, the disobedient cities, even at the risk of their

lives.[1198] The rising of the Spanish people, in this same year, soon

limited the territory occupied by the Allies; we hear nothing more of

this attempt at conversion under the shadow of the sword and, taken as

a whole, the efforts to evangelize Spain have attracted vastly more

attention than their intrinsic importance deserves.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _OCCASIONAL VICTIMS_]

Unsuccessful as were the endeavors to introduce the new doctrines in

Spain, there continued to be occasional cases of Spaniards embracing

them partially or wholly, of which a few examples may be cited. There

was arrested and brought to the Toledo tribunal, December 24, 1562,

Hernando Díaz, a cowherd of San Roman, near Talavera. He was a

simple-minded creature, who had been at times _melancolico_. In the

Sierra Morena there had been much talk among the shepherds of the

Lutheran doctrines made known in the Seville autos. While working there

he had heard of them, they fixed themselves in his wandering mind and,

when the fit was on him, he could not help talking of his

_imaginaciones_ as he called them, although his wife and daughter and

his neighbors, cautioned him against it. At his first audience he freely

admitted having denied the power of pope and priest and asserted that

salvation came by faith and love of God and charity and love of one's

neighbor, and not by the laws of the Church or by indulgences and images

and pilgrimages. The inquisitors treated him kindly, exhorting him to

cast aside these fancies, which he professed willingness to do but could

not control them. Physicians were called in who bled and purged him; he

begged for mercy, but could not conquer his beliefs. This went on for a

couple of months when he announced his conversion through the teaching

of his cell-companion, a priest named Juan Ramírez, who confirmed it,

stating that Díaz had talked like a Lutheran until the feast of the

conversion of St. Paul, when he had read to him from his breviary the

services of the day and had urged his conversion; Díaz had wept and

professed his belief in the Church and Ramírez held him to be sincere.

Thus far the conduct of the case had been eminently humane and

considerate, but when the consulta de fe met, May 17th, two of the

consultors voted for relaxation, while the two inquisitors, the Ordinary

and two others voted for reconciliation, confiscation and irremissible

perpetual prison and sanbenito. At an auto held, September 19th, this

sentence was duly pronounced and, when the city of Toledo was assigned

to him for a prison, he was thrust into the streets to take his chance

of starvation.[1199] The case is not without interest as showing that

the sentences read at the autos might be as effective as the dreaded

missionaries.

A heretic of different calibre was Don Caspar Centellas of Valencia, a

gentleman of birth and culture. During his trial, he evaded the

accusation with skill but, when his counsel drew up for him a defence in

which he was made to recognize the Roman Church and pope as the Church

of God, in which he wished to live and die, he refused to sign it. He

renounced all defence and was obdurate to the arguments of the

theologians, who were repeatedly summoned to convert him; there was

nothing to do but to burn him, which was executed accordingly, September

17, 1564.[1200] His brother, Don Miguel Centellas, Comendador of

Montesa, was likewise exposed to a prolonged trial, but was acquitted in

1567.[1201] Connected with Don Gaspar was Doctor Sigismondo Arquer who,

though not a Spaniard, was a Spanish subject, being from Cagliari. His

trial at Toledo occupied nine years; he was unrepentant to the last and

when, in the auto of June 4, 1571, he was delivered to the secular arm,

a curious debate arose. The official entrusted with the execution of the

sentences declared that, under the law in other offences, there was no

burning alive and he ordered Arquer to be garroted. The pious zeal of

the populace could not endure this ill-timed mercy; a riot occurred in

which Arquer was pierced with halberds and other weapons; fire was

finally set and so, half dead already, he was burnt.[1202]

By this time it was rare to find a native Spaniard tried for

Protestantism, and women virtually disappear as culprits. Moreover, the

cases which are classed in the records as cosas de Luteranos are nearly

all those in which some trifling aberration or careless speech was

qualified by the calificadores as savoring of Lutheranism, so that the

statistics unconsciously exaggerate greatly the prevalence of

Protestantism. Such cases were mostly treated with leniency, as that of

Mosen Monserrat, a beneficed priest of the church of San Salvador,

accused in 1567 of Calvinism, to the Valencia tribunal, for saying that

extreme unction was not as efficacious as formerly, that it was mortal

sin to administer the sacraments in mortal sin, and that the religious

Orders were not as strong as they had been. He escaped with having to

revoke his utterances in presence of the chapter of San Salvador and

with celebrating nine masses.[1203] So, in 1581, Juan de Aragon, a

peasant, was tried at Toledo, on a charge of saying that masses for the

dead were absurd, for the priest was a sinner who could do nothing with

God, and that it sufficed to recommend oneself to God and the saints. He

denied the accusation, the consulta de fe voted in discordia and the

Suprema merely sentenced him to abjure _de levi_, to hear mass as a

penitent and to pay a fine of twelve ducats.[1204]

While such trivial matters form the bulk of the cases of so-called

Lutheranism there were occasionally more serious ones, such as that of

Juan López de Baltuena of Calatayud in 1564, at Saragossa. In his

written defence there were sundry heresies, qualified as Lutheran, for

which he was condemned to abjure _de vehementi_, to serve in the galleys

for life and never to read, write or talk about theology.[1205] Nor were

there altogether lacking cases, like those of Centellas and Arquer, in

which conscientious conviction carried the delinquent to the stake, as

that of Pedro Mantilla, a student of Vezerril in Old Castile, who, in

1585, was relaxed at Saragossa as a pertinacious heretic, who was Arian

in denying the Trinity and Lutheran in rejecting papal authority.[1206]

[Sidenote: _OCCASIONAL VICTIMS_]

The last relic of the movement of 1558 was the Catalan, Pedro Galés,

reckoned as one of the most learned Spaniards of the age, and highly

valued as a correspondent by such scholars as Isaac Casaubon, Cujas and

Arias Montano. As early as 1558 he had commenced to reject some of the

Catholic dogmas, but he escaped suspicion and enjoyed intimate relations

with Archbishop Antonio Agustin, who made him one of the interlocutors

in his celebrated _Dialogi de Emendatione Gratiani_--the first assault

on the authority of the False Decretals. About 1563 he left Spain for

Italy, where he made progress in heresy, leading to his prosecution by

the Roman Inquisition and the loss of an eye under torture. Abjuration

saved him and, in 1580, he returned to Spain, where Don Juan de Idiaquez

sought to secure him as tutor to his son Alonso. In 1582 he passed

through Italy to Geneva, where he married and occupied the chair of

philosophy until 1586. He rejected some of the Calvinist doctrines and,

leaving Geneva, he taught in Nîmes, Orange and Castres, holding

frequent disputes with Huguenot preachers. Accompanied by his wife and

two little daughters, he was on his way to Bordeaux, in August, 1593,

when the Leaguers at Marmande arrested him as a Huguenot, with his

precious accumulation of MSS. and books in ten bales. He was delivered

to the Capitan Pedro Saravía, who had been placed by Philip II at the

service of the Marquis of Villars, Governor of Guyenne. He made no

secret of his belief and Sarravía was impressed with the extreme

importance of the information which the Inquisition could extract from

him as to his co-religionists, but the Governor of Marmande refused to

convey him across the border and, when Villars was applied to, he

obligingly offered to hang or drown the heretic, but shrunk from the

responsibility of extraditing him. The distracted wife was imploring the

officials to liberate her husband and Sarravía was consumed with anxiety

lest she should succeed while he was seeking the intervention of Philip.

In this he succeeded; Galés was surrendered to the tribunal of

Saragossa, where he freely admitted his faith and stubbornly refused

conversion, but his endurance was mercifully spared by sickness and

death after his third audience and, as an impenitent, his bones and

effigy were burnt in the auto of April 17, 1597.[1207]

In all, the cases of so-called Lutheranism, collected by Dr. Schäfer, up

to 1600, amount to 1995, of which 1640 are of foreigners and 355 of

Spaniards, and he estimates that he has succeeded in finding about

two-fifths of the autos de fe of the thirteen tribunals of the

mainland.[1208] This probably conveys a reasonably accurate impression

as to the comparative numbers of the two classes, but it would be a

gross error to regard all the Spaniards as real Protestants, for the

great majority may be assumed to have been Protestant only in the

imagination of the calificadores.

In the seventeenth century scattering cases continue to occur from time

to time among Spaniards, but their treatment indicates that there was no

longer felt the necessity of making examples. Fray Juan González de

Carvajal, a Benedictine who had been expelled from his Order for

repeated escapes, embraced Calvinism, which he confessed in France and

obtained absolution; again he confessed it judicially in the Roman

Inquisition, and yet again in the Toledo tribunal and was reconciled.

Then, in 1622, he was tried in Valladolid, where he told all this

freely, but with such signs of repentance that the consulta de fe voted

only to reconcile him in a public auto, with ten years of galley-service

and perpetual prison. While waiting an auto he sought an audience and

confessed that he had again relapsed; there was no choice now but to

sentence him to degradation and relaxation, but the Suprema mercifully

modified this to reading his sentence in the audience-chamber, where his

sanbenito was to be removed, perpetual deprivation of his functions as

deacon and life-long imprisonment.[1209] There was less disposition to

mercy, in 1630, in the case of María González, widow of Pedro Merino of

Canaca, one of the exceedingly rare instances of a Spanish female

Protestant. To the Valladolid tribunal she freely confessed her belief

and persisted in it, despite earnest and prolonged efforts to undeceive

her. There was no escape from condemning her to relaxation and the

Suprema confirmed the sentence, but whether it would have been executed

cannot be told for persistent labors were crowned with success; she was

finally converted and the sentence was changed to reconciliation.[1210]

There may have been subsequent cases of Spaniards relaxed for

Protestantism, but I have not met with them. In 1678, Thomas Castillanos

was kindly sent to an insane hospital by the tribunal of Toledo. In

1718, Pedro Ortiz of Valencia was reconciled with perpetual prison in

the Córdova auto of April 24th, and, in that of November 30, 1722, at

Seville, Joseph Sánchez of Cádiz appeared as a "Calvinist and Lutheran"

and was reconciled with irremissible prison.[1211]

[Sidenote: _FOREIGNERS_]

The Augustinian Fray Manuel Santos de San Juan, better known as

Berrocosa, would, in the sixteenth century, have been burnt as an

undoubted Lutheran, although when arrested, in 1756, it was merely as a

_regalista_ or upholder of the supremacy of the State. His _Ensayo de el

Theatro de Roma_, circulated in MS., was an essay to prove this, in a

manner highly offensive to the hierarchy, and for this he was relegated

for ten years to the strict convent of Risco. During his confinement he

wrote tracts to prove that Rome was Babylon, that the existing Church in

no way resembled that of the Apostles, that there should be no Order

higher than the priesthood, that capital punishment for heresy was in

itself a heresy, and other doctrines which no calificador could help

qualifying as the rankest Lutheranism, but Berrocosa was not relaxed,

although he found associates to copy these heretical documents and

circulate them. When his ten years' confinement ended, in 1767, he was

again strictly secluded in a cell, from which, in 1768, he managed to

escape, eluding pursuit until, in January, 1770, he was recaptured and

delivered to the Toledo tribunal. Here he underwent a second trial,

resulting in a sentence of confinement for life in the convent of Sarria

(Galicia), where he was to be kept _incomunicado_.[1212]

This case illustrates why, during the decadence of the Inquisition, we

hear little or nothing of Protestantism among Spaniards, although the

spirit of persecution was unabated. Revolt against Ultramontanism was no

longer styled Lutheranism but Regalism or Jansenism. With those whose

dissidence went beyond discipline to dogma, it took the shape of the

fashionable philosophy of the period and became Naturalism or

Philosophism, Deism or Atheism, as the case might be. The Inquisition

still did its work with more or less rigor, but the arena had shifted.

* * * * *

While thus there had been little tendency to Protestantism among

natives, since the inconsiderable outbreaks of 1558, foreigners

furnished an ample field of labor. Spain had a reputation for wealth

which rendered it attractive to the stranger; its people held in

contempt the arts and crafts in which Frenchmen and Flemings and

Italians were adepts, and its internal peace seemed to offer a refuge to

those whose industries were precarious in the incessant clash of arms

through which the old order of things gave way to the new. Consequently

every city in Spain had a considerable population of foreigners, intent

on earning a livelihood without much thought of spiritual matters. Some

trials in the Toledo tribunal, about 1570, allude to French and Flemish

printers then under arrest in Toledo, Barcelona, Alcalá, Salamanca,

Valladolid and Granada.[1213] In 1600, the Count of Benavente, Viceroy

of Valencia, estimated the number of Frenchmen there at fourteen or

fifteen thousand and added that there were vast numbers in Aragon.[1214]

While many of these were undoubtedly Calvinists, sedulously concealing

their faith, the majority were Catholics, more or less sincere, but

even their orthodoxy was not of a quality to suit the Spanish standard.

They had been accustomed to live in contact with heretics; they had no

such fanatical horror of heresy as was universal in Spain, and they were

apt to be careless in the observances which the Spaniard regarded as

indispensable. All foreigners were thus objects of suspicion, and the

Catholic was as liable to arrest as the Calvinist. Jacques Zacharie, a

dealer in rosaries and images in Burgos, in 1637, chanced to be relating

his adventures with the heretics in France who, in examining his

baggage, had said "Let him take these wares to Spain and bring us back

good money," when one of his hearers expressed surprise that the Most

Christian king would let heretics dwell in his land. This led Jacques

patriotically to defend them as good baptized Christians, who lived

righteously according to their law. He was asked how they could be

Christians when they did not go to mass and confess to priests, when, in

the heat of discussion, he replied that there was not scriptural command

of sacramental confession. For this he was denounced to the Valladolid

tribunal; he was arrested and tried and all his property was

sequestrated.[1215]

[Sidenote: _FOREIGNERS_]

It is no wonder therefore that the tribunals were kept busy with these

cases and that the records are full of them, especially under the crown

of Aragon, owing to the propinquity of south-western France, where

Huguenotism was in the ascendant. In Saragossa the relaxations for

Lutheranism, from 1546 to 1574, though amounting to only seven, were all

of Frenchmen.[1216] Barcelona was more active. In an auto of May 16,

1561, there appeared for Lutheranism, eleven Frenchmen, one Piedmontese

and one Maltese. In that of July 11, 1563, there were thirty-four

Frenchmen, two Italians and two Catalans, of whom eight Frenchmen were

relaxed in person and three in effigy. In that of March 5, 1564, there

were twenty-eight Frenchmen, two Catalans and one Swiss, of whom eight

Frenchmen were relaxed in person and two in effigy.[1217] From a report

by Dr. Zurita of his visitation in the summer of 1564, we obtain a

glimpse of how these autos were fed. At Perpignan, for Lutheranism, five

persons were arrested with sequestration, of whom four, and possibly all

five, were French. At Castellon de Ampurias, Maestre Macian, a

Frenchman, was sent to Barcelona for trial. Jean de Adin, a Frenchman

of Aldas, escaped arrest by flight, and the arrest was ordered of Pere

Bayrach, a Frenchman of Flasa.[1218] When, simultaneously with this, the

ambassador Saint-Sulpice complained to Philip II of the cruelty

exercised on his fellow-countrymen, who were peaceably plying their

industries, without creating scandal, the king coolly replied that the

Inquisition acted without regard to persons, but nevertheless he would

speak with the inquisitor-general.[1219]

The complaint of cruelty was justified. In the rebuke which the Suprema

administered to the tribunal of Barcelona, in 1568, as the result of de

Soto Salazar's visitation, allusion is made to a case, in 1565, of a

Frenchman named Antoine Aymeric, arrested without evidence; his first

audience was held at his own request February 23d, the second on July

27th, when, without more ado, he was tortured and sentenced to

reconciliation and confiscation. In another case of a Frenchman, Armand

Jacobat, he was tortured without confession, but subsequently admitted

some Lutheran errors, begged for mercy and desired to be converted, in

spite of which he was relaxed and burnt, for which the Suprema held the

tribunal to be gravely in fault.[1220] What became of those not burnt is

seen in a report of December, 1566, to Charles IX, by his ambassador M.

de Fourquevaux, that seventy poor Frenchmen, prisoners of the Barcelona

tribunal, had been condemned to the galleys and had been delivered, in

November, to Don Alvar de Bazan, who had taken the fleet to winter near

Cádiz. In February, 1567, he writes that, on complaint to the Duke of

Alva, the latter had assured him on his honor that they were all

dogmatizing Huguenots; that Frenchmen were never arrested for

Protestantism if they had not said or done something scandalous. This

was as mendacious as the repeated promises to release the galley-slaves,

which were always evaded until Fourquevaux recommended the seizure as a

hostage, at Narbonne, of Andrea Doria, the naval commander-in-chief. At

last, on December 20th, he reported the sending of royal letters to

Doria to release them, but it is fairly questionable whether the order

was obeyed. Again, in a list of complaints made by Charles IX to Philip,

there was one concerning five of his subjects arrested in Havana and

sent to Seville for trial, to which Philip replied that he was not

accustomed and did not desire to interfere in such affairs, but

nevertheless he would have the inquisitor-general requested to order the

tribunal to despatch these cases with all speed.[1221]

A more pleasing international episode is connected with the case of

Robert Fitzwilliam, an Englishman, condemned by the Seville tribunal to

ten years of galleys and perpetual prison. He was received on board,

February 25, 1578 and, in November 1582, his wife Ellen presented

herself in the court of Madrid, with a letter from Queen Elizabeth to

Philip II, representing that the poor woman had beseeched her

interposition, and that the liberation of the husband would be a favor

which she would be glad to reciprocate. Under any other jurisdiction,

the granting of such a royal request would have been a matter of course,

but the assent of the Holy Office had to be secured. The existing papers

fail to inform us of the result, but that it was favorable can scarce be

doubted, for the devotion of the faithful wife made a strong impression

even on the hardened officials, whose correspondence alludes to her in

terms of respect and admiration.[1222] More summary was the process

when, in 1572, the Barcelona tribunal sent a commissioner into French

territory on some duty, and he was seized and held as a hostage for a

Frenchman arrested by the tribunal, leading to an exchange of

prisoners.[1223]

The Val d'Andorra furnished another source of international questions,

for the Barcelona tribunal claimed jurisdiction over it, while Jeanne

d'Albret, as Queen of Navarre, held that it was her fief. In 1572, she

put a French veguer there to administer justice, whereupon the

inquisitors commenced to gather information about him, as a presumable

Huguenot, and the Suprema ordered them to arrest him if sufficient

evidence could be found, but, as the attempt was likely to prove

dangerous, it need not be made unless the viceroy would furnish a

sufficient guard, which apparently he declined to do.[1224]

[Sidenote: _DIMINISHING NUMBERS_]

All foreigners thus were objects of suspicion, and the jurisdiction of

the Inquisition was stretched to the utmost to prevent their infecting

the faithful. In 1572, the Suprema ordered the tribunals of Aragon,

Catalonia and Valencia to see that no Frenchmen were employed as

teachers of reading and writing anywhere within their districts,

experience having shown the dangers thence arising.[1225] Intercourse

with foreigners was dangerous and was discouraged. In 1568, Inquisitor

Moral, in reporting a visit to San Sebastian, expressed a desire to

punish those who received and entertained and had particular friendship

and dealings with French and English strangers, sometimes even giving

them information enabling them to escape arrest, on all of which the

Suprema commented by characterizing these as grave cases, which should

have been sent to Logroño for trial.[1226] The Spaniard, too, who went

abroad was an object of suspicion, and was held to strict accountability

for his acts during absence. In the Barcelona auto of June 21, 1627,

there appeared a merchant of Manresa who, while in France, had listened

to Huguenot preaching and had eaten flesh on Friday, for which he was

penanced in a thousand ducats and was recluded in a convent for three

years.[1227]

That, under these influences, coupled with the growing poverty of Spain

and the curse of its debased currency, the number of resident foreigners

diminished greatly after the opening of the seventeenth century, may be

assumed from the reduction in the cases of Protestantism in the records.

Those of Toledo, from 1575 to 1610, show a total of forty-seven, of

which the last one occurred in 1601, while those from 1648 to 1794

contain only eleven.[1228] In Valladolid, the reports of twenty-nine

years, between 1622 and 1662, show only eighteen cases.[1229] In the

Madrid tribunal, from 1703 to 1751, there is only a single case of a

"Huguenot."[1230] In the sixty-four autos celebrated by all the

tribunals between 1721 and 1727, there are only three cases.[1231] In

Valencia, between 1705 and 1726, there was but a single case--a

Calvinist who spontaneously denounced himself.[1232] Scattering and

imperfect as are these statistics, they suffice to indicate how rapidly

the number of foreign delinquents fell off, after the year 1600, and

that this was not the result of progress in enlightenment and toleration

we shall see hereafter. It was simply that the Inquisition had succeeded

in its efforts to limit intercourse between Spain and its neighbors, and

to isolate it from European civilization.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _FOREIGN HERETICS_]

If this was the case in regard to nations presumably Catholic, we can

readily conceive how much greater vigilance was exercised towards those

which had lapsed into heresy. Commercial intercourse with them was

unavoidable, but it was a necessary evil, to be restricted within the

narrowest limits by deterrent regulations. For awhile, indeed, the

heretic trader took his life and fortune in his hands when he ventured

to make a Spanish harbor, as we have seen in the case of the good ship

Angel. Even castaways were the legitimate prey of the Inquisition, as

was experienced by seventeen English sailors of a fishing-boat, who were

captured by a French vessel and were thrown on shore on Fuerte Ventura,

one of the Canaries. They were tried and escaped burning by conversion,

after which four of them, Richard Newman, Edward Stephens, John Ware,

and Edward Stride managed to escape. As this showed them to be

impenitent, they were prosecuted in absentia for relapse, and their

effigies were solemnly burnt in an auto of July 22, 1587.[1233] The

number of merchant vessels touching at the Canaries, in fact, furnished

to the tribunal at one time the major portion of its work. A record of

prisoners entered in its secret prison, during six months of 1593, shows

thirteen belonging to the German ship San Pedro, seventeen to the

Flemish ship La Rosa, and fifteen to the Flemish ship El Leon Colorado,

besides a dozen English sailors whose vessel is not specified. These

comprise all hands, officers and crews, merchants and passengers, and

presumably, if the cargoes were not confiscated, they were effectually

looted in the absence of their guardians.[1234] That such was the

motive, rather than the protection of Spain from the infection of

heresy, is inferable from a sentence of the Granada tribunal, in 1574,

condemning to reconciliation and life-long galley-service Jean Moreno, a

Frenchman, resident in Málaga, because he had warned some Protestant

sailors not to enter the port of Almería.[1235] When there was prospect

of a fat confiscation, indeed, the Inquisition paid little respect to

the justice of the case or to the parties who might suffer. There was a

long dispute between Rome and Madrid over two cargoes of alum, which the

papal camera was sending to England, when the ships were seized and the

cargoes sequestrated by the tribunal of Seville, on the ground that the

English crews were heretics.[1236]

This barbarous policy necessarily made itself felt in the cost of

foreign commodities, especially after the troubles in the Netherlands

had cut off or reduced that portion of the carrying trade. Under this

pressure, in 1597, an exception was made in favor of the Hansa.

Instructions were issued by the Suprema that, when its ships arrived

with merchandise, the persons in them were not to be interrogated about

their religion, nor on that account were the ships or cargoes to be

sequestrated or confiscated, unless while in port they had offended

against the Catholic faith and, in such case, only the property of

delinquents was to be seized; search, however, for prohibited books was

to be made, as was customary with Catholic vessels.[1237] There was also

an approach to admitting the Dutch, in a royal order of February 27,

1603, providing that Holland vessels and crews, bearing passports from

the Archdukes of the Netherlands, were to be allowed entrance to Spanish

ports, and their persons and property were to be secure, but this was

revoked, December 11, 1604, subject to the twelve months' notice

provided in the order.[1238]

A treaty of peace with England, covering this matter, was ratified by

James I, August 29/19, 1604 and by Philip III, June 16, 1605. During

this interval, in November, 1604, an English ship, with a crew of twenty

men, coming for a load of corn, touched at Messina and then at Palermo.

In the latter port it was visited by the officials of the Inquisition,

when the men admitted that they were Protestants and wished to live in

that faith. They were all arrested and appealed to the viceroy, the Duke

of Feria. He was powerless save to write a private letter in which he

declared that the arrest was a disservice to the king and tended to

destroy the treaty agreed upon, wherefore the Inquisition ought to

dissemble and treat the heretics well, for the public good. The

inquisitors thereupon assembled ten consultors, reaching the conclusion

that the Englishmen could be liberated only on condition of giving ample

security that they would go to Spain and present themselves before the

inquisitor-general. For strangers this was a virtual impossibility, and

it doubtless proved to be so for, in 1605, we hear of certain

Englishmen, who had been admitted to penance with the sanbenito and

required to live for two years in certain monasteries for instruction in

the faith; they had contrived to escape, but were tracked and found on

board a French ship, without their sanbenitos. As the tribunal did not

care to support them, they were ordered to be distributed separately to

monasteries in the mountains, far from the sea, where they were, for ten

years, to perform labor without pay.[1239]

When such irrational cruelty was habitual, international comity and

commercial interests alike demanded that a curb should be placed on the

irresponsibility of the Inquisition. Accordingly, in the English treaty

of 1604, Article 21 provided that the vassals of King James, coming to

or residing in the Netherlands or Spain, should not be molested or

disturbed on account of matters of conscience, so long as they gave no

occasion for scandal, and that corresponding instructions should be

issued by the king. This Philip did, under the same date of June 15,

1605, ordering that English subjects should not be held accountable for

acts prior to their coming to Spain. While in Spain they were not to be

compelled to enter churches but, if entering voluntarily, due respect

must be paid to the Venerable Sacrament and, if it was met on the

street, they must kneel, or take another street or enter a house. If any

one were prosecuted for contravention of these rules, only his own

property was to be seized, and not a vessel or cargo, or the goods of

others in his charge, and to the observance of all this the king pledged

his royal faith and word. The Suprema had previously, December 11, 1604,

issued instructions similar to those of 1597 for the Hansa; on July 14,

1605, it transmitted to the tribunals the articles of the treaty, but it

seems to have objected to the royal declaration, for it delayed until

October 8th embodying its provisions in a carta acordada.[1240]

[Sidenote: _FOREIGN HERETICS_]

This was too reasonable to be acceptable to Spanish fanaticism.

Archbishop Ribera, in 1608, varied his efforts for Morisco expulsion

with an earnest appeal to the king, expressing the grief which he had

never ceased to feel since he heard of the peace with England, fearing,

as he did, the offence given to God which would bring many evils on

Spain. His affliction had increased in view of the excesses committed by

the English in Valencia, living publicly in their religion and causing

great scandal and evil example to the faithful and, at much length and

with many instances, he proved that peace with infidels was forbidden by

Holy Writ. This memorial was duly considered in the Council of State,

when the Comendador Mayor of Leon reported that the king had ordered the

inquisitor-general to be notified, so that he might instruct the

tribunals to exercise great vigilance and to punish all who gave

occasion for scandal.[1241]

When, in 1609, the twelve years' truce was concluded with the United

Provinces, the Dutch naturally claimed the same privileges as the

English, and these were embodied in Article 7 of the treaty.[1242] The

Inquisition did not submit quietly to this restriction on its powers

and, in 1612, it issued a carta acordada, repeated in 1616, asserting

that these privileges applied only to transient strangers, and that

those who were resident and kept houses were subject to the tribunals in

all matters of faith like any Spanish subjects; it invoked, moreover, an

old regulation of 1581, ordering special watch to be kept on them, so

that what they did in private as well as in public might be known, full

reports being sent to the Suprema. In 1620 it revived another

instruction of 1581 forbidding foreigners in the seaports to keep inns

or lodging houses.[1243] Whether any trouble arose from these arbitrary

constructions of international compacts does not appear, but at least

they manifested a desire to render the position of foreign heretics as

precarious and uncomfortable as possible.

When the truce with Holland expired, in 1621, of course the privileges

of the Dutch were withdrawn and, when war with England came in 1624, the

Inquisition eagerly assumed the office of purifying Spain from heretical

infection. Inquisitor-general Pacheco informed the king that papal

permission had been necessary to enable Philip III to enter into the

treaty of 1605; now that the peace had been broken and the causes of the

papal permission had ceased, he was, as inquisitor-general, obliged in

conscience to obviate the evils of Catholic intercourse with such

pertinacious and pernicious heretics as the English and Scotch, by not

permitting them to remain in his Majesty's dominions, for otherwise he

would be lacking in his duty to the king and to his office. He had

therefore ordered an edict to be published that all Englishmen and

Scotchmen, who were not Catholics, should leave the king's dominions

within twenty days, notifying them that after that date they would be

punished by the Holy Office. As it was a weighty matter, of which the

king should be notified, Pacheco added that he had not wished to execute

it without informing him and he could issue such orders as he saw

fit.[1244] It may be assumed that Philip did not approve of this

insolent invasion of the royal power, for it was not till April 22,

1626, that he issued a proclamation forbidding all commercial

intercourse with England and ordering the confiscation of all English

goods imported in contravention of its commands, when the Inquisition

followed by a carta acordada of May 29th, prescribing the prosecution,

in the regular way, of all English heretics who had sinned against the

faith.[1245]

[Sidenote: _FOREIGN HERETICS_]

When peace was restored, in 1630, article 19 of the treaty revived the

article of 1604 and Philip, as before, promised to provide that English

subjects should not be molested so long as they caused no scandal.[1246]

As before, the Suprema followed this, January 28, 1631, with detailed

instructions that those who kept house should be treated as Spanish

subjects and be subjected to special surveillance.[1247] This

unjustifiable distinction between transient and resident foreigners

gave ample opportunity for molestation and blackmail. It was construed

as applying the Index of prohibited books to residents for, in 1645, we

find the Canary tribunal ordering its commissioner at Orotava to search

the houses of the English merchants and report whether they found any

forbidden books or books that had not passed the censure. The duty was

performed and lists were forwarded, not only of books but of pictures

and prints and, as nothing objectionable was reported, we may not

uncharitably surmise that the commissioner's labor was not

unprofitable.[1248] As the rule had no legal basis, it probably called

forth protests for, in 1652, the Suprema submitted the question of its

legality to a number of calificadores, who unanimously agreed that it

was not in accordance with the treaties, when presumably it was

withdrawn.[1249] The espionage to which foreign merchants were exposed

is portrayed, in 1648, by Pedro de Villareal, commissioner at Bilbao,

who reports that there were sixteen houses in which the English and

Dutch traders were lodged; he was confident that nothing heretical could

escape his knowledge, for the keepers of the houses were faithful spies

and very zealous in matters of religion.[1250]

A treaty of commerce with Denmark, in 1641, placed the Danes on the same

footing as the English and, in the treaty of Munster, January 30, 1648,

the Dutch obtained the same terms, while a special article placed the

Hanse towns on the same footing as Holland.[1251]

Meanwhile, in 1645, the English merchants in Andalusia, by a payment of

twenty-five hundred ducats in silver, had secured certain commercial

privileges, one of which indicates how grudgingly their treaty rights

had been interpreted. A foreign heretic appearing in court, either as

party or witness, was asked whether he was a Catholic; if he replied in

the negative, his oath was not received. This humiliating and injurious

distinction was abrogated, and the Englishman's oath was declared to be

legal and binding, like the Spaniard's, but it was difficult to make the

courts accept the innovation, and the royal order, issued March 19th had

to be repeated June 26th and again November 9th. By the Munster treaties

this privilege was extended to Holland and the Hanse towns, and it was

confirmed by the treaty of Utrecht in 1713.[1252]

[Sidenote: _FOREIGN HERETICS_]

We have seen how difficult it was to make the Inquisition respect

municipal law, and it was not likely to regard international

obligations. Excuses could readily be found to bring the hated foreign

heretic under its jurisdiction and, in the chronic penury of the time,

the opportunity of rich confiscations was not likely to be lost sight

of. In 1621 we hear of a number of Englishmen arrested in Málaga, with

sequestration of property, and the same occurred in Seville, in

1622.[1253] Of one case we chance to have details--that of George Penn,

brother of Admiral--then Captain--Penn, and uncle of William Penn, the

Founder of Pennsylvania. He was in no sense a bigoted Protestant, or he

would scarce have married a Catholic wife in Flanders. He took her to

Seville, where he conducted a prosperous business until 1643, when he

was arrested. His account of his sufferings is manifestly exaggerated

though we may believe him when he says that he was tortured until he

confessed all that was required of him--that he was a heretic who had

married a Catholic in Antwerp, intending to take her to England and

pervert her and their children from the faith. He was required to abjure

in a public auto and ordered to leave Spain within three months, while

his wife was taken from him and he says was married to a Spaniard. The

property confiscated amounted, according to disinterested appraisers, to

£6000 of his own and £6000 belonging to other parties. On his return to

England, beggared and broken in health, he sought to obtain redress and,

about 1664, Charles II appointed him envoy to Spain, to enable him to

urge his claims to advantage, but being then 63 years old he did not

venture to go. During the negotiations at Utrecht, William Penn

endeavored to obtain consideration of this case, but apparently without

success.[1254]

The superb imperturbability of the Inquisition as to international

obligations is evinced in a case occurring soon after the treaty of

Munster. Paul Jerome Estagema, a citizen of Hoorn, was arrested at

Alicante and tried by the Valencia tribunal. Influential people in

Holland urged his release, and the Dutch ambassador, Anthony Brun, made

forcible representations to the king, who wrote, September 15, 1651, to

the Suprema, urging a prompt decision of the case and pointing out that,

under the treaty, Estagema, as a citizen of the United Provinces, was

not subject to the Inquisition. The royal request was treated with

absolute indifference; Ambassador Brun kept urging the matter and, on

December 16th, Philip repeated his application to the Suprema, and

asserted the necessity of satisfying the Hollanders. Then the Suprema

condescended to forward the royal letters to the tribunal, telling it to

despatch the case without delay, which could readily be done as the

trial had been finished on September 7th, and ordering it to report the

sentence when pronounced.[1255]

At this period, political exigencies rendered both France and Spain

desirous of an alliance with England. Don Alonso de Cardenas, the

Spanish ambassador, endeavored to negotiate a treaty with Cromwell in

1653 and again in 1655, but the Protector insisted on larger toleration.

In the draft of the projected treaty, Articles 22 and 35 not only

repeated the previous provisions but added that Englishmen conducting

business in Spain should be permitted, in their houses and ships, to

perform divine service in their own manner, and to use their Bibles and

other books, and that they should not be arrested for so doing or their

property be sequestrated. When the treaty was submitted to Philip, he

sent these articles to the Suprema for its advice, protesting that he

was unalterably resolved to risk all his dominions and spill the last

drop of his blood, rather than to yield anything that would be to the

disservice of God, or prejudice in the least degree the purity of

religion. In response to this the Suprema declared that the royal words

ought to be recorded in imperishable bronze; it easily proved that by

divine, canon and municipal law, a sovereign had no right to permit

such toleration; it quoted Gregory XV as ordering, in 1622, all rulers,

under heavy penalties, to expel all heretics from their dominions, and

it pointed out that heretics employed Catholic servants who would be

corrupted, and that all cognizant of heresy incurred mortal sin and

excommunication if they did not denounce it. These arguments were as

applicable to the treaties of 1605, 1630, and 1648 as to the proposed

one, but they sufficed; it was rejected, and Cromwell turned to

France.[1256] Doubtless Admiral Penn felt a special personal

satisfaction, when he avenged his brother by wresting Jamaica from Spain

in 1655.

A secret treaty, in 1656, between the wandering Charles II and Philip,

pledged the former to bring about freedom of conscience in England, but

was discreetly silent about toleration in Spain. With the Restoration,

in 1660, peace ensued and the treaty of 1630 was revived. In 1663, when

a new treaty was discussed, England again put forward the stipulations

of Cromwell, and Philip again consulted the Suprema with the same

result. On Philip's death, in 1665, the treaty of December 17th

continued in force the provisions of 1630 and extended to all Englishmen

the privileges granted, in 1645, to those of Andalusia. Then, in 1667,

the treaty of May 23d defined more clearly that the pretext of

conscience should not be used to inflict injury on Englishmen or raise

any dispute so long as no manifest public scandal was caused nor offence

committed. In this shape the relations between the kingdoms continued;

the treaty of Utrecht in 1713 and those of 1763 and 1783 merely

confirmed that of 1667.[1257]

[Sidenote: _FOREIGN HERETICS_]

With France, of course, relations were wholly different. When the

Huguenot was grudgingly tolerated at home, he could expect no

protection for his religion abroad, especially when, as in Spain, he

could reside only by pretending Catholicism. The peace of the Pyrenees,

November 7, 1659, merely provides, in article 5, that the vassals of

each power shall have free ingress, residence and egress in the

territories of the other, observing the laws and customs of the

country.[1258] This did not, however, preclude reclamation in cases of

special malfeasance, as when, in 1672, the French ambassador Villars

complained of an outrage in Majorca. A French ship, arriving there from

Barbary, September 6th, with a cargo of wheat, chanced to have as a

passenger a Huguenot of position, M. de la Fent, governor of the Bastion

de France, with a large sum of money. On learning this, the inquisitor

arranged to seize him and embargo his property; he assembled a force and

armed two vessels with which to take possession of the French ship, and

he would have done so had not M. de la Fent prevailed upon the master to

make sail. The queen-regent forwarded this to the Suprema, October 28th,

for explanation, but it was not until November 19th that it replied,

merely saying that the inquisitor of Majorca had reported, on September

21st, the arrival of a heretic and that, on October 3d, it had ordered

him to take such action as comported with the service of the queen, the

public peace, and the consideration due to the subjects of the French

king, who were to be treated like the English and the Dutch.[1259]

As the attempt had failed, the Suprema made the best excuse it could,

but with manifest equivocation, for the French heretic had not such

treaty protection as the English. This was manifested, after the

revocation of the Edict of Nantes, in 1685, when it was thought that

fugitive Huguenots might have settled in Spain. In 1687, the papal

nuncio and the French ambassador called the attention of the

inquisitor-general to the matter, suggesting that the Holy Office should

not permit their residence. Carlos II seconded their representations,

and issued a cédula, February 28th, ordering his officials to lend all

necessary assistance to the Inquisition. The Suprema sent this to the

tribunals and followed it, June 14th, with detailed instructions,

ordering a general perquisition to be conducted through the parish

priests throughout Spain. Each tribunal was to collect the results,

investigate them and vote, reporting the vote to the Suprema. Extreme

vigilance was enjoined and the Suprema was to be kept informed.[1260]

Judging from such statistics of the period as are accessible, this

proved to be a false alarm, leading to no results, but none the less it

indicates the dread inspired by the prospect of the intrusion of foreign

heretics. There seems to have been a similar scare, in 1698, when the

Suprema instructed the tribunals to order all their commissioners to

report whether, in their districts, there were any heretics, transient

or resident, giving in detail the nationality, sect, occupation etc. of

each one, and this without loss of time.[1261]

This policy continued. In 1784 similar lists were called for. The answer

from Valencia showed how successful had been the exclusion of

Protestants, and how precarious was the position of those who ventured

to reside in Spain. The tribunal reported, August 29, 1785, that it had

instructed its commissioners everywhere and, where there were no

commissioners, satisfactory persons, to make this secret investigation,

with the result that there were no Protestants in the kingdom of

Valencia, except in the city, where there were two--Mons. Champane, a

Frenchman and Dueclaux, whose nationality could not be ascertained. Both

were Protestants, although it was difficult to verify the fact, on

account of their extreme care in attending church and in accompanying

the sacrament when it was carried to the sick.[1262]

[Sidenote: _FOREIGN HERETICS_]

With the outbreak of the French Revolution, the desire to exclude

heretics extended itself to foreigners generally, with the view of

completely isolating Spain. In 1791 a decree of Carlos IV required all

foreigners to be registered; those who desired to be naturalized must be

Catholics and take the necessary oath of allegiance; transient residents

were compelled to take out licences in which, among other details, their

religion was specified; they were not allowed to exercise any profession

or art or craft, or to follow any retail trade, or even to be servants,

and all engaged in such pursuits were given two months in which to leave

the country.[1263] When, however, the peace of 1795 put an end to the

disastrous war with the French Republic and aroused apprehension of an

approaching rupture with England, there was a feverish desire to placate

France, showing itself in a royal cédula of May 1, 1796, prohibiting

all tribunals, including the Inquisition, from molesting Frenchmen on

account of religion, but those only were to be recognized as Frenchmen

who wore the tricolor cockade. When war broke out with England, a

further advance was made; Carlos ordered his representatives abroad to

assure all foreign powers that in Spain strangers enjoyed full liberty

of conscience, and in August, 1797, he forbade the Inquisition to

trouble foreigners about their faith.[1264] We may be permitted,

however, to doubt the sincerity of this. When, in the same year, the

attention of the Valencia tribunal was drawn to a German merchant named

Johann Foch, who called himself a Protestant, it applied at once to the

captain-general to know whether he held the licence authorizing his

residence in Spain, not being a Catholic. It proceeded with the case but

suspended it because of his marriage with Bernarda María Pellicer, a

parishioner of Santo Tomás.[1265]

This liberality, whether genuine or not, was only a passing episode. A

document of 1801 shows that the decree of 1791 was still in force, and

that the Inquisition was relied upon to carry it into effect. It is a

series of questions addressed by the Suprema to the tribunals, with the

answers from Valencia, and explains itself.

Q. Whether, prior to the royal order of 1791, foreigners not

Catholics were allowed to reside, in the cases provided by the

treaties and, if they were not permitted, what measures were taken

to ascertain whether they professed Calvinism?

A. In case of their not having the benefit of those treaties, as

soon as the tribunal had knowledge of them, it made the requisite

investigation and, on ascertaining it to be true, it notified them

to quit the kingdom, if they had not special permission from the

king.

Q. If investigation led to the belief that a stranger was Catholic

and it was subsequently found that he was not, but that he did not

speak ill of our religion, or cause scandal, or insult sacred

objects, to what punishment was he condemned?

A. No recent case of this kind has occurred but, from some former

ones, it is deduced that the Suprema was consulted.

Q. Have those who established themselves in Spain, in virtue of the

royal order of 1791, complied with the formalities which it

prescribes?

A. As no advice has been sent to this tribunal by the Junta del

Comercio y Moneda, nor by the Intendente of the kingdom, it is

inferred that no non-Catholic artists have established themselves,

or else that the prescription to advise the tribunal has not been

obeyed.

Q. Whether they (non-Catholic foreigners) contract marriage with

Catholics and, in that case, what is the religion of the children?

A. But one case of such marriage is known--that of Juan Foch, a

German of Lindau, who called himself a travelling merchant, with

Bernarda María Pellicer of this city. This was in virtue of a papal

brief, passed by the Council of Castile and with the royal

exequatur, providing that he should allow his wife to remain a

Catholic and his children to be brought up in the same faith, and

she promising to persuade him to conversion. They were married

privately, outside of the church and without banns or other public

ceremonies. We learn from the Vicar of Los Santos Juanes, where

they live, that they cause no scandal, comply with the obligations

and that a boy has been baptized.

Q. Since the royal order, about how many non-Catholic strangers

have established themselves, naming some of the principal ones and

their nation or sect?

A. This could be answered only by examining the registers required

to be kept by the captain-general and royal justicias. This

tribunal can only have notice by denunciations, which has occurred

only with Foch.

Q. How many _autillos públicos_ have been held with strangers since

1759 when Carlos III ascended the throne? State the name, country,

religion and principal offences.

A. Since 1759 there has been no autillo público for

strangers.[1266]

This document has interest not only as showing the continued vigilance

as to foreign heretics, but as indicating how thoroughly successful had

been the policy of exclusion. The district of the tribunal embraced a

long stretch of sea-coast, including such commercial cities as Valencia

and Alicante, yet the non-Catholic stranger was still almost unknown, as

he had been when the report of 1785 was made. Spain was a land to be

shunned by all who were liable to be dealt with by the Inquisition, and

it was left to its isolation. For those who ventured it, concealment of

heresy was worse than its avowal. David Bonoran, a French Protestant,

domiciled in Bilbao, succeeded in passing as a good Catholic. Becoming

converted, he applied to the tribunal of Logroño to abjure his errors

and be incorporated in the Church, when, in 1791, he was promptly

prosecuted for having feigned Catholicism.[1267]

This sensitiveness survived the Peninsular War and was vigorous to the

last. In 1816 there is considerable correspondence respecting the wife

of Don Rufino de Acha, settled in Bilbao as a merchant, who had married

in England a Protestant named Doña Juana de Ancell--presumably Jane

Hansell. From this it appears that, after a discussion lasting nearly a

year, she was given the alternative of leaving Spain or of conversion

and that she accepted the latter.[1268]

[Sidenote: _HERETIC TROOPS_]

This persistent dread of heretics is vividly reflected in one of the

last acts of the Suprema prior to its suppression. In 1819 it issued an

elaborate series of instructions for the guidance of commissioners at

the sea-ports in the _visitas de navios_, or examination of all ships on

their arrival. This was principally intended to prevent the introduction

of prohibited books, which will be considered hereafter, but the

sections devoted to heretics show that the regulations adopted at the

treaty of 1605 were still in force. Foreign heretics were not to be

prosecuted for acts committed abroad but, for anything done in Spain and

causing scandal, they were to be arrested and transmitted to the

tribunal for trial. They were not to be compelled to enter churches but,

if they did so, they were to pay due respect to the Sacrament and, on

meeting it in the street, they were to kneel or remove themselves out of

the way. Strangers were forbidden to keep public houses for the

entertainment of Protestant shipmasters and sailors or travellers. The

commissioner was to be vigilant in ascertaining and reporting to the

tribunal everything they said against the Catholic faith, how they

behaved in public and in private and whether any scandal was caused to

the faithful.[1269] Spain was the same as it had been two centuries

before.

* * * * *

There was one exception, however, to the prohibition of the hated

presence of heretics on Spanish soil. Constantly recurring war

necessitated the employment of whatever troops could be had,

irrespective of their spiritual condition. It was the German bands of

Lutherans under Georg Fronsberg who sacked Rome for Charles V in 1527.

Foreign mercenaries were continually in Spanish service, and they grew

more indispensable in the seventeenth century with the decline both in

population and military ardor. The revolts of Portugal and Catalonia, in

1640, rendered Spain the battle-field, and recruits from any source were

welcome, who of course could not be subjected to inquisitorial

interference, no matter what their faith. The Inquisition in vain

pointed out the dangers thence arising. In a consulta of November 13,

1647, the Suprema related with grief that four hundred German soldiers,

landed at San Sebastian, on their way to Catalonia, were disseminating

their errors, distributing heretic books and outraging images.[1270]

There was no help for it and, after war had ceased on Spanish

territory, the employment of foreign regiments continued to excite its

susceptibilities. In 1668, the Suprema arguing in a consulta for the

maintenance of its prerogatives, urged that they were especially

necessary, in view of the presence of such bodies of soldiers, many of

whom were heretics.[1271]

Still, there was an effort made to preserve the Spanish organizations

from wolves in sheep's clothing. Fernando VI issued a decree, December

31, 1756, imposing the death-penalty on any heretic who pretended to be

a Catholic in order to enlist and, in 1765, Carlos III modified this to

expulsion from the kingdom under pain of ten years' labor in the

_bagne_, adding that, if the heretic when enlisting had sworn that he

was a Catholic, he should run the gauntlet twice before expulsion.[1272]

[Sidenote: _ADMISSION OF CONVERTS_]

There was some slight compensation, for the presence of these heretics,

in the field which they furnished for missionary work. There were

frequent conversions, especially when the chaplains were zealous for the

salvation of souls. One of these was Francisco Columbano Burke, chaplain

of the first Swiss battalion, who held a faculty for this purpose as

commissioner of the Inquisition. He writes, May 23, 1764 from Tarragona

to the Barcelona tribunal, forwarding the abjurations of six converts in

the Swiss regiment of St. Gall and giving the names of twenty-four

others, who were ready for conversion. They were duly gathered in when

there proved to be ten Calvinists and fifteen Lutherans.[1273] The

exclusive jurisdiction of the Inquisition over heresy rendered its

interposition necessary in this, for it alone could admit the heretic to

incorporation in the Church, it alone could judge of the degree of his

sin, determine whether he was rightfully a son of the Church through

baptism, and whether he was worthy of admission through repentance. In

theory he was a heretic spontaneously denouncing himself and, when these

conversions became frequent, early in the seventeenth century, they took

the form of a regular trial, in which the fiscal acted on one side and

the convert had counsel assigned to him on the other while, in the form

of abjuration administered, he pledged submission to the penalties of

relapse in case of backsliding.[1274] Indeed the Suprema felt it

necessary, April 22, 1605, to warn the tribunals that foreigners coming

forward voluntarily and confessing their errors were not to be

imprisoned but were to be welcomed; their reconciliation was to be in

the audience chamber, without sanbenito or confiscation, and with

spiritual penances only; then they were to confess their errors

sacramentally and receive absolution for their sins.[1275] Heresy, even

congenital, was a mortal sin, to be duly atoned for.

Subsequently the rigor of these formalities was abandoned and the

process was facilitated, although it was still formidable. Printed

instructions for commissioners, apparently drafted in the eighteenth

century, prescribe a minute examination into the life and history of the

convert and his motives, so as to be satisfied that his object is really

salvation. All details as to his baptism are to be specially inquired

into, so as to be assured whether or not he is really baptized, and, if

there is any doubt, proceedings are to be suspended until the tribunal

can be consulted. He is also made to specify all the errors of his

former religion, and to utter a profession of faith in which he promises

to reduce, as far as he can, all heretics to Catholicism and to denounce

them to the Inquisition. He is also to be asked whether he knows of any

heretics save those permitted for the sake of trade, and whether any of

the latter have transgressed the conditions of their residence. Also,

whether he has ever professed Catholicism, and whether he has been

instructed in it sufficiently to incur the obligation of its profession,

in which case he is required to abjure and to be formally reconciled and

is absolved from the excommunication which he has incurred, while, if he

has never known Catholicism, he is absolved _ad cautelam_. If he is less

than 25 years of age, a curador is to be appointed, with all the

formalities, who is to be present and to consent to all the proceedings.

There is suggestiveness in the contrast of this cautious detail with the

multitudinous sprinkling by which Jews and Moors were incorporated in

the Church.

[Sidenote: _PROTESTANTISM_]

Among converts the most curious case in the records is that of Joh.

Heinrich Horstmann--with many aliases--of Borgenstreich, who supported

himself during a long life by trading on the rivalry between

Protestantism and Catholicism. Born about 1663, he was educated as a

Catholic by the Jesuits of Prague. When about 25, he changed his

religion at Dresden, studied at Wittenberg, and for many years wandered

through Germany, living on charitable contributions given to him as a

convert. He even went to England, where the Archbishops of Canterbury

and York assisted him. Then, in the Protestant cantons of Switzerland,

he supported himself as a Catholic ready for conversion, and in the

Catholic ones as a Lutheran seeking salvation in the Church. Finally in

the latter capacity he hit upon the lucrative device of saying that he

had been baptized in the Lutheran fashion of one person administering

the material and another the form; theologians would pronounce this

invalid, and that rebaptism was necessary; some prominent person would

be induced to act as godfather and would encourage him with a donation

of twenty or thirty ducats, and possibly there was an additional

collection from the faithful. On this he traded for the rest of his

life, varied with an episode of having himself circumcised in Amsterdam

and living for some years on the Jews there. This subsequently gave him

trouble, for in Rome he was recognized as a Jew, he was tried by the

Inquisition and sent to the galleys for ten years, after which he

resumed the profession of a candidate for baptism. From Lisbon to Paris

and Naples, he imposed on the credulity of the faithful, and it was

reckoned that in all he had been baptized twenty-one times. A second

visit to Spain, however, brought his career to an end in his

eighty-ninth year. Repeated baptisms in Cádiz, Madrid and Valencia

aroused suspicion. All the tribunals were ordered to be on the watch for

him and, after a year of searching, he was arrested at Valencia in 1751.

He told his story freely and fully; at first he said that his repeated

baptisms were merely to gain a living, but subsequently he asserted that

he was possessed by a demon, whom he hoped to eject by the repetition of

the rite. The _consulta de fe_ voted that, as an apostate and relapsed

heretic and _diminuto_ he had forfeited his life, but that efforts

should be made to save his soul, after which another vote should be

taken. At this conjuncture he fell mortally sick; he refused to speak to

those who sought his salvation and, when one of them told him, if he

desired to die in Calvinism, to squeeze his hand, he seized it with such

a grip that assistance was necessary to unloosen it. Thus he passed away

in his heresy on February 28, 1752; the body was buried in unconsecrated

ground in a box of quick-lime and, in an auto held August 26, 1753, the

bones and effigy were reduced to ashes and scattered.[1276]

* * * * *

Thus, when divested of legendary amplification, Spanish Protestantism is

seen to have been of importance only as serving to tighten the bonds

which restricted the development of the nation. One of the most

efficient means to this end remains to be considered in the censorship

of the press.

CHAPTER IV.

CENSORSHIP.

Censorship of the press was not the least effective function of the

Inquisition in arresting the development of the Spanish intellect. That

it should suppress the utterance of heresy in print as well as in speech

would appear to be inevitable, and yet no such power was included in the

commissions of the earlier inquisitors-general, nor at first was this

regarded as one of its duties. It is true that, as early as 1490, it

burnt a large number of Hebrew Bibles and other Jewish books and, soon

afterwards in Salamanca, it consigned to the flames in an auto some six

thousand volumes of works on Judaism and sorcery.[1277] We have seen

also that Ximenes in Granada burnt a mass of Moorish MSS., but these

were extra-judicial acts, which there was none to call in question. In

the Instructions issued by Torquemada and his immediate successors,

there is no reference to censorship as an inquisitorial duty and, in the

earliest manual, printed in Valencia in 1494, the only allusion to it is

the prescription, derived from the canon law, that any one obtaining

possession of an heretical book is bound, within eight days, to burn it

or to deliver it to the bishop or inquisitor.[1278]

[Sidenote: _EARLY TOLERATION_]

In fact, the matter was not regarded as pertaining especially to the

Inquisition. The earliest provision for censorship, called forth by the

development of the art of printing, is a faculty granted, March 17,

1479, by Sixtus IV to the rector and dean of the University of Cologne,

to proceed with censures against the printers, sellers and readers of

heretical books.[1279] Alexander VI, in 1501, assumed it to be an

episcopal function, when he called on the German bishops to keep a

vigilant watch on the press.[1280] So Ferdinand and Isabella, in 1502,

when they promulgated the earliest law regulating the issue of books,

made no mention of the Inquisition. This law formed the basis of all

subsequent legislation, and its uncompromising character foreshadowed

the relations that were henceforth to exist between the government and

the intelligence of Spain. No book was to be printed, imported or

exposed for sale without preliminary examination and licence. In

Valladolid this duty was imposed on the president judges of the royal

courts; in Toledo, Seville and Granada on the archbishops, in Burgos on

the bishop, and in Salamanca and Zamora on the Bishop of Salamanca, who

were to act through examiners, paid by a moderate salary, not oppressive

to booksellers and printers. When a MS. had been thus licensed, it was,

after printing, to be carefully compared with the sheets to see that no

changes had been made. Any book printed or imported and offered for

sale, without such licence, was to be seized and publicly burnt; the

printer or vendor was incapacitated from continuing in business and was

fined in twice the amount received for any copies that he might have

sold.[1281] That the censorship thus created was enforced with more or

less regularity may be inferred from a remark of Chancellor Gattinara,

in 1527, reassuring Erasmus against expected attacks--that nothing was

permitted to be published in Spain without careful previous examination,

and he fervently wished that an equally wholesome rule could be

established in Germany.[1282]

The motive for this sharp and comprehensive legislation can only be

conjectured. Before the Reformation there was little demand for the

services of the censor. The Church was worldly; its supremacy in all

matters of faith and discipline seemed to be so immutably established

that it regarded with good-natured indifference abstract speculations

such as those of Marsiglio Ficino, Pomponazzi and Agustino Nifo, and

concrete ridicule like that of Sebastian Brandt, Thomas Murner and

Erasmus. It was otherwise when the Lutheran revolt threatened the

overthrow of Latin Christianity and spread with such rapidity that no

man could foretell its limits. We have seen that, as early as 1521, Rome

called upon Spain to prevent the introduction and dissemination of

Lutheran writings, and that Cardinal Adrian promptly assumed that it was

the function of the Inquisition to do so. There is no trace of any

delegation of such faculty, from either the Holy See or the civil power,

but his action was not likely to be called in question, and the civil

authorities were under oath to obey the mandates of the inquisitors,

where the faith was concerned Accordingly, his decree of April, 1521, is

couched in the most absolute terms; the books in question had been

prohibited by the inquisitors and spiritual judges, wherefore the

tribunals were instructed to order, under heavy censures and civil

penalties, that no one should possess or sell them, whether in Latin or

Romance, but should, within three days after notice, bring them to the

Inquisition to be publicly burnt; the edict was to be published in a

sermon of faith and, after publication, any one possessing or selling

them, or knowing that others possessed them and not denouncing the

offenders, was to suffer the penalties announced by the inquisitors,

while all ecclesiastical and secular authorities were ordered to render

whatever aid might be necessary.[1283]

Thus, at a bound, the Inquisition claimed and exercised the power of

enforcing the prohibition of condemned books. The next step--that of

condemning books--would seem to have been taken, in 1525, in an order to

the vicar of Alcalá de Henares to seize all copies of a certain book of

expositions of the Psalter.[1284] Then followed, in 1530 and 1531,

various edicts showing the activity of the Inquisition in exploiting its

new field of action. The heretics were printing their works under

assumed names, or adding heretic commentaries to authorized books, for

the detection of which the utmost vigilance of the tribunals was

invoked; a clause was to be added to the Edict of Faith requiring the

denunciation of all such works; the tribunals were to send executory

letters to all towns demanding the surrender of Luther's writings, and

discreet persons were to be appointed to investigate the book-shops in

search of this evil literature. When, in 1535, the tribunal of Valencia

admitted that it had neglected to do this it was commanded to make the

appointments forthwith and to have all condemned books seized.[1285]

[Sidenote: _CONFIDED TO THE INQUISITION_]

The Inquisition had assumed and was exercising authority to condemn

books, to seize those in circulation and to punish their possessors,

although it had no formal authority for any of these acts. It seems to

have felt that the punishment of offenders, at least, required papal

faculties and, when Inquisitor-general Tavera, in 1539, succeeded

Manrique, a clause was inserted in his commission empowering him and

his successors to proceed against those who owned or read heretical

books.[1286] The authority of the Holy Office was thus complete with

regard to books after they were printed, but as to the equally important

function of granting licences to print, its policy at first varied

somewhat. The law of 1502 had confided this duty explicitly to judges

and bishops, but, in 1527, the Inquisition invaded this by granting

licences for Antonio de Obregon's translations of some of St. Bernard's

and San Vicente de Ferrer's works. Even individual inquisitors seem to

have arrogated to themselves power to grant licences for, in 1530, the

Suprema forbade them to do so, but it assumed for itself entire control

over the matter, in 1536, by issuing orders that no book should be

printed without a preliminary examination by the Holy Office.[1287]

Reflection, and possibly experience, however, showed that this

assumption of power carried with it a responsibility that occasionally

might prove embarrassing, for books which it thus approved might

subsequently, in the growing sensitiveness of orthodoxy, be condemned,

and a carta acordada of 1550 definitely prohibited all such licences,

adding that the Suprema did not grant them.[1288] It was wiser that

preliminary approval and subsequent judgement should be in different

hands, and this was provided for in an edict of Charles V and Prince

Philip, in 1554, confining to the Royal Council the duty of issuing

licences, after careful examination of the MSS. submitted, which, in the

case of all important works, were to be retained for comparison with the

printed sheets.[1289] Yet the Inquisition retained the right to stop the

printing of any book denounced to it as heretical, and it seems for

awhile to have occasionally issued licences, for a carta acordada of

1575 alludes to the approval of books and their licensing by

inquisitors.[1290] This was probably the end of it, and the Inquisition

tacitly declined to risk its reputation for infallibility by approving

books in advance, which it might subsequently have to condemn.

The Inquisition thus restricted itself to the duty of condemnation. The

prohibition might be total and the book be wholly suppressed, or

partial, in which case its circulation was suspended _donec

corrigatur_--until it should be expurgated of passages regarded as

erroneous, misleading or offensive. For this duty it provided no

machinery and did not profess to take the initiative. In the Edicts of

Faith, it was made the duty of everyone to denounce whatever was

contrary to the faith, and there were plenty of acute theologians and

captious critics to whom it was an agreeable task to call attention to

any word or sentence or proposition to which exception could be taken.

The book was then submitted to calificadores, and their verdict, whether

for suppression or expurgation, was submitted to the Suprema, or the

book itself might be sent there for examination; in any case the

decision rested with it and was communicated to the tribunals by an

edict, which was read in all the churches and affixed to their portals,

so that no one could plead ignorance. All who possessed the inculpated

book were summoned, within a limited time, to surrender it for

suppression, if it were prohibited, or for expurgation if objectionable

passages were to be blotted out, and this under penalty of

excommunication and fine, with threat of prosecution for persistent

disobedience.[1291]

[Sidenote: _THE INDEX_]

Everything thus centred in the Suprema, whose action was required in

even the most trivial matters, and its correspondence on these affairs

was incessant. As condemnations and expurgations multiplied, it became

impossible to trust the records of the tribunals or the memory of the

faithful. Some authentic list or catalogue was required to aid

inquisitors in their work, and to warn booksellers and readers, and thus

gradually was developed the _Index Librorum Prohibitorum_ or

_Expurgandorum_, which has become one of the most efficient of

instrumentalities for repressing the human intellect and aiding the

forces of reaction. Henry VIII has the credit of setting the example, in

a brief list of prohibited books, issued in 1526, although in the same

year Charles V published in the Netherlands a _plakaat_ naming half a

dozen authors whose books were to be burnt. The earliest allusion that I

have met to such a catalogue in Spain occurs in a letter of September,

1540, from the Suprema to Loazes, then Inquisitor of Barcelona,

complaining of the inefficiency of the efforts to prevent the

importation of prohibited books, which the Germans were using every

means to disseminate, while merchants and booksellers felt no fear of

the penalties imposed by the Inquisition. Greater activity and heavier

punishment were necessary, for which instructions were enclosed, with a

list of prohibited and suspected books, to which Loazes was to add his

suggestions.[1292]

This was merely for use within the Inquisition. The first formal printed

Index was compiled, in 1546, by the University of Louvain. A copy of

this was sent, in 1547, to Inquisitor-general Valdés, at Seville, who

forwarded it to the Suprema. This had it printed, with an Appendix

containing the books prohibited in Spain, and sent it out, September

1st, to the tribunals, with some MS. additions of later

prohibitions.[1293] This is the earliest Spanish Index, hitherto

unknown, which has left no other trace, and it serves to mark the

commencement of another duty undertaken by the Suprema, that of

examining books for the purpose, without awaiting denunciations, for, in

1545 there is an order to pay Dr. Alvaro de Moscoso forty ducats for

labor of this kind.[1294] Then, in 1550, the University of Louvain

issued an enlarged list and this, by order of Charles V, was reprinted

and circulated by the Inquisition in 1551, with its own additions,

constituting what has been reckoned as the first Spanish Index.[1295]

The energies of the Suprema were now turned to the Scriptures. Vast

numbers of Latin Bibles had been circulated, correct as to the text, but

rendered insidiously dangerous by heretical notes and commentaries. Many

of these were contained in the Index of 1551, and diligent search was

made for others at Salamanca and Alcalá, and their errors were

scrupulously noted. The results of these labors were communicated to the

tribunals, with orders to examine all the Bibles seized under the Index

of 1551; if among them were found editions not in the list enclosed,

they were to be scrupulously examined by learned men and be sent to the

Suprema, which would then determine what was to be done with the great

accumulation of corrupt Bibles in the land. It concluded not to order a

wholesale destruction and, in 1554, it issued the first Expurgatory

Index, devoted to the Scriptures, specifying the edition and the

passages to be _borrado_ or blotted out; this was sent to the tribunals

with orders for its publication everywhere. All the Bibles seized and

all that might be brought in were to be expurgated and returned to their

owners, with a certificate. After the expiration of the term of grace

allowed, the most strenuous efforts were to be made to ascertain whether

any prohibited or unexpurgated Bibles remained in the hands of

individuals or institutions, the owners of which were to be punished

with the utmost rigor.[1296]

[Sidenote: _GENERAL INSPECTION_]

It was evidently the books conveyed by Julian Hernández that furnished a

fresh list sent to the tribunals, October 22, 1557, of works described

as printed in Venice and brought from Flanders and Germany by a Spaniard

to Seville. Edicts concerning them were to be published everywhere, the

book-shops were to be sedulously searched and any one found in

possession of them was to be punished with the greatest severity. This

was followed, September 2, 1558, by an additional list of books ordered

to be burnt.[1297] The Suprema was thus obtaining material for an

independent Index. Paul IV had caused one to be compiled in 1557, which

was printed and suppressed, to appear, in 1559, in an authentic

form.[1298] The Spanish Inquisition, however, already asserted its

independence of the Roman Holy Office in these matters; the excitement

over the Lutherans of Valladolid and Seville suggested a comprehensive

prohibition of heretic books; Valdés procured from the pope the

necessary delegation of power and, in 1559, the first indigenous Index

appeared. It was distributed to the tribunals with instructions that all

books contained in it were to be called in; those of heretic authors

were to be publicly burnt in the autos, and the rest carefully stored,

making lists of them and of their owners, which were to be sent to the

Suprema for its action. Books on the humanities and Catholic books with

heretic notes, if the latter could be effaced, were to be returned to

the owners; all anonymous books and books without imprint of place and

printer and all books printed abroad since 1519 were to be seized and

examined and, if found suspicious, were to be detained. The general

clause in the Index, covering all books savoring of heresy, was

explained to mean that everything not contained in it that was heretical

or suspect was to be seized, and whenever there was doubt the Suprema

was to be consulted.[1299]

The preparation of the Index had been a work of no little labor and

perplexity. Among others, the learned Doctor Francisco Sancho had for

some years been employed by the Suprema in examining and seizing books

and, early in 1559, he wrote that he had a large number in his

possession and that, in the course of his duties many doubts had arisen,

which he set forth in a series of questions. One of these suggests the

difficulty of censorship applied to a theology undergoing reconstruction

at the Council of Trent, but which was assumed to have been unalterable

from the beginning. Sancho calls attention to the clause in the edicts

forbidding all books containing any thing against the faith and the

Church and its observances. There are many books, he continues,

containing such errors, as those of Richard of Armagh, Durandus,

Caietano, the Master of Sentences, Origen, Theophylact, Tertullian,

Lactantius, Lucian, Aristotle, Plato, Seneca and others, much used both

in and out of the schools, and it is doubted whether they can be

permitted under condition of noting the errors. The Suprema shrank from

the absurdity of suppressing the works of the most eminent medieval

theologians and the leading classics, and it graciously allowed their

circulation until further orders.[1300]

The issue of the Index was followed by a vigorous search through all the

book-shops and libraries of Spain. Examiners or revisors were appointed

everywhere, with instructions to scrutinize all collections of books,

whether in shops, monasteries, universities and private libraries, to

detect not only those named in the Index but all others containing

suspicious matter. All owners of books were commanded to submit them for

examination, under penalty of excommunication and two hundred ducats.

Not only the prohibited books but all regarded as suspicious were to be

sent, together with information as to their owners, to the Suprema,

which would do justice in the premises.[1301]

The examination of all the books accumulated in Spain was a formidable

undertaking, but it was attempted to the discomfiture of all men of

culture and learning, and the raising of innumerable questions which

gave ample occupation to the Suprema. A specimen of this is found in the

report of Fray Pedro de Quintanilla of Valladolid, concerning books in

his hands belonging to Bartolomé de Robles, a prominent bookseller. Most

of these, he says, are of Erasmus, such as the Adagia, Paraphrases and

Anotaciones which are not prohibited, and he thinks may be returned to

the owner, to which the response is that books of Erasmus not in the

Index may be returned. Then there is Conrad Gesner _de Piscibus et de

Avibus_, containing only the painted bird and fish, which he thinks may

be returned, which is assented to. Then there is a book called Petrus

Galatinus, containing a tract "De Arte Cabalistica;" if this were

removed, some who have examined it say that the rest is good, to which

the reply was to take out the cabalistic tract and return the book. Then

there are other books, which have prologues or annotations by heretics,

and he thinks that if the names of such authors were blotted out, the

books might be returned, as to which he was told to specify the

books.[1302] We can readily conceive the exasperation caused by this

laborious and meddlesome trifling, and its repressive influence on the

studies of the learned.

[Sidenote: _SECULAR LEGISLATION_]

All this was in furtherance of a savage pragmática evidently motived by

the Lutheran scare. It was issued September 7, 1558, by the Infanta

Juana in the name of Philip II, and shows that the civil power

coöperated with the Inquisition, while providing an effective machinery

for a state censorship. It recited that, in spite of the law of 1502 and

the labors of inquisitors and bishops, there were many heretical works

in circulation, and that foreign heretics were making great efforts thus

to disseminate their doctrines, while there were also many useless and

immoral books, so that the Córtes had petitioned for a remedy. It was

therefore ordered, under penalty of death and confiscation, that no

bookseller or other person should sell or keep any book condemned by the

Inquisition, and all such books should be publicly burnt. The Index of

prohibited books must be printed and every bookseller must keep a copy

exposed, where the public could consult it. No books in Romance printed

abroad, even in the kingdoms of Aragon, were to be imported, under the

same terrible penalty, unless they had a printed licence from the Royal

Council, but books in Romance previously printed abroad, and not

prohibited by the Inquisition, were to be presented to the local

magistrates, who were to send lists of them to the Royal Council for

decision, pending which they were not to be kept for sale under pain of

confiscation and exile. Moreover, a general inspection was ordered of

all books in the kingdom; those in book-shops and private libraries by

the bishops, in conjunction with royal officials and universities, and

those in religious houses by the superiors of the Orders. Everything

regarded as suspicious or immoral was to be sequestrated, until

judgement should be passed upon it by the Royal Council, and this was to

be repeated annually.

Existing and foreign books being thus provided for, a stringent

censorship of the press was organized. Death and confiscation were

decreed for any one who should give out for printing a book without

first submitting it to the Royal Council for examination when, if found

unobjectionable, a licence would be issued. To prevent alterations,

every page of the MS. must be signed by a secretary of the royal

chamber, who must rubricate every correction and state at the end the

number of pages and corrections. After printing, the MS. must be

returned with one or two printed copies for comparison. Every book must

have in front the licence, the _tassa_ or price at which it was sold,

the privilege, if there was one, and the names of author, printer and

place of publication. New editions were subject to the same regulations,

but legal documents and official papers of the Inquisition and the

Cruzada Indulgence were excepted. Even writing was subjected to the same

restrictions as printing, for death and confiscation were threatened for

all who should own or exhibit to others a MS. on any religious subject

without submitting it to the Council, which should either license it or

destroy it. This ferocious law was confirmed, in 1627, by Philip IV and

remained unrepealed until the Revolution, its enforcement being

rigorously enjoined by Carlos IV, in 1804.[1303] That any one suffered

death for its violation is unlikely, and inquisitorial trials of

theologians show that they accumulated masses of papers on religious

subjects without thought of submitting them to the Royal Council, but

the impediments which it threw in the way of authorship were rigidly

enforced and coöperated with the Inquisition in exercising a most

repressive influence on the intellectual progress of Spain.

It was not difficult to secure from the papacy its aid in rendering this

censorship effective. The Suprema, in its letter of September 9, 1558,

to Paul IV respecting the Lutheran development, called attention to the

negligence of confessors in requiring their penitents to surrender

prohibited books and to denounce offenders, and Paul, in a brief of

January 5, 1559, commanded all confessors in the Spanish dominions to

enquire of penitents whether they owned or read such works, or knew of

any one owning or printing or selling them, when absolution was to be

refused, unless the books were surrendered or the culprits denounced.

For obedience to this, on the part of confessors, remission of sins was

promised, while negligence was threatened with fines, deprivation of

functions and benefice and disability for reinstatement, penalties which

were discretional with the inquisitor-general.[1304]

[Sidenote: _CAPTIOUS EXPURGATION_]

Thus papal, royal and inquisitorial powers were concentrated in the

effort to purify the land of heretical literature. By the Edicts of

Faith and by the confessional the whole population was enlisted as spies

and informers on those who contravened the prohibitions, which rapidly

succeeded each other in the inquisitorial edicts, and all readers of

books were required to denounce any passages which might seem to them

suspicious or offensive. It is probably to this latter source that are

attributable most of the incredibly trivial expurgations with which the

later Indexes are burdened. How it sometimes fared with authors,

indubitably orthodox but careless in expression, is exemplified in the

case of the Maestro Fray Hernando de Santiago who, in 1597, published at

Salamanca, of course after the preliminary censorship, his

_Consideraciones sobre todos los Domingos y Fiestas de la Quaresma_. It

was denounced to the Inquisition as containing some heretical

propositions and many that were erroneous and scandalous. The Toledo

tribunal summoned him and after examination voted to suspend his case

with a reprimand and order to be more reticent in his sermons and to

write no more scandalous books, which was an admission that the work

contained nothing especially objectionable. The Suprema, however, set

the vote aside and ordered his trial to be vigorously pushed and all his

papers to be seized. A struggle, prolonged until 1602, ensued over an

infinite number of expressions to which the calificadores took

exception, resulting in his being severely reprimanded in the presence

of representatives of all the religious Orders, with banishment from

Castile and suspension from preaching for three years, the first year of

which was to be passed in reclusion in the monastery of Cuenca as a

penitent. From his book were to be expurgated all the passages noted as

objectionable by the calificadores, and the list of these as printed in

the Indexes is formidable in length rather than in quality, for captious

criticism had wreaked itself on the minutest points. It was justified in

correcting "Assur King of Persia" to "Assur King of Assyria;" possibly

also in altering "the day when Peter renounced Christ" to "denied

Christ," but only slavish adulation could require that "the day when a

tyrant king" should be changed to "tyrant captain." Still, the

indomitable maestro was not silenced, for in the following year, 1603,

he issued another book, _Consideraciones sobre los Evangelios de los

Santos_, for which he escaped prosecution, though his book likewise

found its way into the Index, with, however, a smaller array of

expurgations.[1305]

Inquisitorial censorship, it will thus be seen, by no means confined

itself to suppressing the works of foreign heretics, for which it was

primarily instituted. Had it done so, it would have exercised a

sufficiently benumbing influence on Spanish intelligence, for it

excluded many works because of their authors rather than of their

contents and it never was able to settle definitely the troublesome

questions arising from works of high scientific and intellectual merit,

in which the authorship or an occasional passage might offend the

hyper-sensitiveness so zealously cultivated. This was sufficiently

restrictive on culture, not only in itself but in the obstruction which,

as we shall see, it imposed on the introduction of all books from

abroad, but even more unfortunate in its influence was the censorship

extended over the whole field of native literature, interposing barriers

on authorship seeking publicity, and exposing even the most orthodox

writers to the danger of seeing their works suppressed, or to the

humiliation of having them disfigured with blotted passages in which the

perverse ingenuity of some theological expert might detect possible

danger to the unwary.

Yet, to do the Spanish Inquisition justice, in this it was more

considerate than the Roman censorship. In 1564 appeared the Index of

Pius IV, known as the Tridentine Index. This is the basis of all

succeeding Roman Indexes, which are strictly of prohibited books--that

is, all books, to which exception of any kind could be taken, were

prohibited, whether their errors were systematic or only occasional. No

indication was given as to what were the objectionable points, although

the author, by humble supplication to the Congregation of the Index,

might obtain information and reprint his book with corrections, at the

risk of its being again prohibited.[1306] The Spanish Inquisition was

more laborious, for it prepared Expurgatory Indexes, in which, when

books were not absolutely prohibited, the objectionable passages were

designated and, when these were _borrado_, or blotted out, the book

could be circulated.

[Sidenote: _THE INDEXES_]

Working thus on different lines, there was little harmony between Spain

and the Holy See. In fact, as we shall have occasion to observe, the

Inquisition asserted entire independence of the Roman censorship,

disregarding its prohibitions and issuing its own without reference to

Rome. This commenced early, as is shown in some curiously contradictory

utterances, in 1568, respecting the Tridentine Index. February 7th, a

carta acordada orders the observance of the Spanish Index of 1559; then

another, of June 14th, recites that the Tridentine Index is not observed

and that persons are using books prohibited in it, wherefore inquisitors

are to order it to be obeyed and to tell preachers to urge this from

their pulpits; finally a third carta, a fortnight later, on June 29th,

practically revokes this by commanding that the Index of 1559 is the

only one to be followed.[1307]

What between the activity of the press, the widening knowledge of

heretical literature, and the increasing sensitiveness of criticism, the

work promised to be endless and preparations were soon under way for the

preparation of a new Index. The labor proved to be no light one. The

tribunals, the prelates and the universities were called upon for

information; as this was received it was sent to Maestro Francisco

Sancho, who selected from the University of Salamanca a junta to frame

from these materials the new Index. Then Sancho left Salamanca and

recommended as his successor his assistant Doctor Diego de Vera. The

Suprema grew impatient and, in a letter of December 6, 1572, it charged

the theologians of the university with the prosecution of the work; in

view of its importance and the urgency of speedy completion, it was to

be preferred to all other business and was to be pushed forward

unremittingly.[1308] They doubtless labored conscientiously and disputed

zealously, but the result was still far off. In 1574 we hear that the

Index was expected to be completed shortly; in 1575, the Licenciado

Velarde, in charge of the matter, was urged to complete it; in 1578 it

was so far advanced that it was submitted to the Universities for their

revision and in 1579 they were asked for their opinions on the general

rules drawn up to accompany it.[1309] Still there was delay, for the

outcome of this careful and prolonged labor was a vast increase over

previous indexes, appearing in two volumes, known as the Indexes of

Quiroga, the inquisitor-general. The first was an Index of prohibited

books, issued in 1583, consisting mostly of the names of authors all of

whose works were forbidden. This was followed, in 1584, by an

Expurgatory Index--the first of its kind--giving the expurgations

necessary to render current the works enumerated. A carta acordada of

October 16th contained directions for the enforcement of its

prescriptions. Although it had been published in the principal towns, it

was to be published again, on a Sunday or feast-day, after convoking the

people by proclamation, when it was to be read after the sermon in the

same way as the Edict of Faith. The preacher was to announce that all

persons having prohibited books were to deliver them at once to the

tribunal, or to a person designated in each town; those having books to

be expurgated could do so in their own houses, but within six months

must submit them to the said persons for approval and signing, without

which they would not be considered as expurgated. Obedience seems to

have been slack; on June 13, 1585, the time limit was extended for four

months; then successive prorogations followed and, in 1587, a further

delay was accorded until the end of 1588.[1310]

The business was as interminable as the labors of the Danaïdes. Already,

in 1586, the theological faculties of Salamanca, Alcalá and Valladolid

were informed that omissions had been reported, and they were asked to

assemble and consider what should be done. In 1594 we hear of

preparations on foot for another Index and Doctor Neroni, Abbot of

Alcalá was instructed to form a junta of doctors and masters competent

for the work.[1311] Progress, however, was interrupted by the strife

which arose between the Dominicans and the Jesuits over the propositions

of Molina and the insoluble questions connected with sufficing and

efficacious grace. The correspondence on the subject was continuous and

voluminous; all the theologians of Spain, who were numerous and highly

vocal, were involved in a prodigious uproar which monopolized the

energies of the censorship. Even the Inquisition was powerless to

restore peace between the raging factions and, in 1598, the strictest

orders were sent to all the universities, forbidding debate or

discussion on the subject and any allusion to it in lectures. Yet the

tempest continued to growl and even in 1612 we find an edict concerning

it.[1312]

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