CHAPTER III

THE ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC

_“If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the

poor, and thou shall have treasure in heaven; and come and follow Me!”_

The contrast between the condition thus enjoined by the Founder of

Christianity and the worldly position occupied by His Vicar on earth

was now fast approaching the climax which was to become absolute with

the era of the Renaissance.

From the simple folk foregathering in Rome in the middle of the first

century to discuss and to guide one another in the practice of the

new doctrine of love and humility, conveyed by word of mouth from the

East, in all its pristine simplicity, unburdened as yet by theological

complexities, unfettered by formularies, it is a far cry indeed to the

proud curial Christians of the Rome of Pope Innocent III.

The successor of Peter, the poor fisherman of Galilee, was enthroned

with a splendour outrivalling that of any other earthly potentate.

Temporally he was lord of considerable dominions; spiritually he

claimed empire over the entire Christian world, and maintained his

supremacy with the thunderbolts of anathema which he had forged

himself. His glittering court was thronged with rustling, scarlet

prelates, with patricians in cloth of gold and silver, captains in

steel, mincing fops and stately senators. He was arrayed in garments

woven of the very finest fleece, crowned with the triple diadem of

white peacock feathers within three flaming circlets of precious

stones. On his coronation kings served him upon the knee at table;

throughout his reign princes and patricians were his lackeys.

From the steps of the Lateran on the day of his accession he would

fling a handful of money to the Roman crowd, exclaiming: “Gold and

silver are not for me. What I have I give to thee.”

Yet his riches were vast, their sources almost inexhaustible. The

luxury in which he lived and moved was the most sumptuous that wealth

could command and art and artifice produce.

Nor was this ecclesiastical magnificence confined to Rome and the Papal

Court. Gradually it had come to permeate the entire body clerical until

it had affected even the monastic orders. From the simplicity of their

beginnings these orders had developed into baronial institutions.

The fathers presided in noble abbeys over wide tracts of arable and

vineyard which they owned and cultivated, and over rural districts and

parishes, which they governed and taxed as feudal lords rather than

served as priests.

So arrogant and aristocratic was become the spirit of a clergy whose

mission was to preach the sublimest and most ideal of democratic

doctrines, that the Church seemed no longer within the reach of

plebeian and peasant-folk. It was fast becoming an institution of

patricians for patricians.

How long this state of things might have endured, what results might

have attended its endurance, it were perhaps idle to speculate. That a

change was wrought, that provision was made for the lowly and the poor,

is due to the advent of two men as similar in much as in much else they

were dissimilar. They met in Rome at the foot of the pontifical throne.

Either might have been the founder of a religion had he not found

already in the world an ideal religion which he could serve. Both were

men born into easy circumstances of life; one, Francesco Bernardone,

was the son of a wealthy merchant of Assisi; the other, Domingo de

Guzman, of Calahorra, was a nobleman of Spain.

To-day the Church includes them in her Calendar as St. Francis of

Assisi and St. Dominic. They are the resplendent twain whom Dante

beheld together in his “Paradise”:

“L’un fu tutto serafico in ardore,

L’altro per sapienza in terra fue

Di cherubica luce un splendore.”[16]

St. Francis--through the sweetness and tenderness that emanated from

his poetic, mystic nature, the most lovable of all the saints--came

from his native Assisi to implore the Father of Fathers to permit him

to band together into an order the barefoot companions he had already

gained, to the end that they should practise Christ’s injunction of

poverty and self-abnegation, and minister to the afflicted.

St. Dominic--and our concern is more with him--had been chosen for

his eloquence and learning to accompany the Bishop of Osma upon an

inquisitorial journey into Southern France. There he had witnessed

the fierce carnage that was toward. He had preached to the heretics

at Toulouse, and the burning, passionate eloquence of his oratory had

made converts of many of those who were prepared to resist the cruel

arguments of fire and steel.

In the ardour of his zeal he had flung aside his rank and the ease and

dignity it afforded him. Like St. Francis he went barefoot, embracing

poverty and self-denial; yet, less mystical, less tender, entirely

practical where the propagation of the Faith was concerned, he had

exulted in the bloody victories that Simon de Montfort had won over the

heretical Albigenses.

Yet, if he gloried in the end achieved--conceiving it the supremest of

all human ends--he must have been touched with regret for the means

employed.

He has been termed a fierce and cruel zealot. But ferocity and cruelty

do not go hand in hand with such lowly humility as undoubtedly was

his. And the very object of his mission to Rome permits, if it does

not point to, a very different conclusion. He went deploring the

bloodshed he had witnessed, however greatly he may have prized the

fruits of it. Inspired by the success that had attended his oratory,

he aimed at providing other and gentler means by which in the first

instance to seek the attainment of the same ends. He went to implore

Pope Innocent’s leave to found an order of preachers who in poverty and

lowliness should go abroad to win back to the Roman fold the sheep that

had strayed into heretical pastures.

* * * * *

Pope Innocent considered the simultaneous requests of both these

men--requests which, springing from the same passionate fervour in

both, yet came by different, if similar, channels to a sort of unity in

the end.

He perceived the services which such men as these might render to

the Church, endowed as they were with the magnetic power of creating

followings, of inflaming hearts, and replenishing the flickering lamp

of public zeal.

He detected no heresy, no irony, in the cult of pauperdom which

they would go forth to preach under the sanction and charter of the

luxurious, aristocratic, curial court.

But there existed another obstacle to his granting them their prayers.

So numerous already were the monastic orders that a Council of the

Lateran had decreed that no more should be created. Favouring these

petitioners, however, he was applying himself to the surmounting of the

difficulty when death took him.

Thus the burden of solving this problem was thrust upon his successor,

Honorius III. And it is said that the new pope was spurred to discover

a solution by a dream--which has been made the subject of a fresco by

Bennozzo Gozzoli--in which he beheld this saintly pair supporting with

their hands the tottering Lateran.

Since he could not establish them and their followers as monastic

fathers, he had recourse to creating brotherhoods for them. These

brotherhoods, he affiliated to the order of St. Augustine, the

Dominicans as friars-preachers (_fratres predicatores_) and the

Franciscans as friars-minors (_fratres minores_).

Thus were launched these two mendicant orders, which by the enormous

following they were so soon to win, were destined to become one of the

greatest means of power of the Roman Church.

In the lifetime of their founders the fundamental laws of poverty were

observed in all their intended purity. But soon thereafter, being

men under their rough habits, and susceptible to the ambition that

is man’s, upon the acquisition of power followed the acquisition of

wealth. Their founders had accomplished a renascence of the original

spirit of Christianity. But soon this began to undergo modification,

and to respond to worldly influences, until the history of the

friars-mendicant repeats and mirrors the history of Christianity

itself. In a measure as they spread through Christendom, so they

acquired convents, lands, and property as they went. The personal

poverty of each brother remained, it is true; they still went abroad

barefoot and coarsely garbed, “without staff, or bag, or bread, or

money,” as their rule decreed. Individually they kept the vow of

privation; but considered collectively their poverty “remained outside

the convent gate,” as Gregorovius says, echoing what Dante had said

before him.[17]

For the service of the Church the friars-mendicant became a splendid

army, and an army, moreover, whose maintenance made no draught upon the

pontifical treasury, since, by virtue of their mendicancy, the orders

were entirely self-supporting. And whilst both orders, magnificently

organized, grew extremely powerful, the Dominicans became formidable

through their control of that Inquisition whose early stirrings had

inspired St. Dominic to his task.

His aim had been to found a preaching order whose special mission

should be the overthrow of heresy wherever found. The brethren were

to combat it, employing their eloquence on the one hand to induce the

heretic to abjure his error, on the other to inflame the faithful

against him, so that terror should accomplish what might not be

possible to persuasion.

It may be that this mission which they had made specially their own, as

their founder ordained, peculiarly fitted the Dominicans to assume the

government of an ecclesiastical establishment whose aim was identical.

It was this order of St. Dominic that was to erect the grim edifice

of the Holy Office, and to develop and assume entire control of the

terrible machinery of the Inquisition. Their persuasion was to be the

ghastly persuasion of the rack; their eloquence was to be the burning

eloquence of the tongues of material flame that should lick their

agonizing victims out of existence. And all for the love of Christ!

* * * * *

Although it might be difficult to show--as has been attempted--that

Domingo de Guzman himself was actually the first ordained Inquisitor,

nevertheless as early as 1224, within three years of his death, the

Inquisition in Italy and elsewhere was already entirely in the hands of

the Dominicans. This is shown by a constitution promulgated at Padua

in February of that year by the Emperor Frederic II. It contains the

following announcement:

“Be it known to all that we have received under our special protection

the preaching friars of the order of preachers, sent into our Empire on

business of the Faith against heretics, and likewise all who may lend

them assistance--as much in going as in abiding and returning--save

such as are already prescribed; and it is our wish that all should give

them favour and assistance; wherefore we order our subjects to receive

benignly any of the said friars whenever and wherever they may arrive,

keeping them secure from the enmity of heretics, assisting them in

every way to accomplish their ministry regarding the business of the

Faith.... And we do not doubt that you will render homage to God and

our Empire by collaborating with the said friars to deliver our Empire

from the new and unusual infamy of heretical pravity.”[18]

* * * * *

The constitution decreed that heretics when so condemned by the Church

and delivered over to the secular arm should be condignly punished;

that if any, through the fear of death, should desire to return to the

faith, he should receive the penance that might be imposed canonically

and be imprisoned for life; that if in any part of the Empire heretics

should be discovered by the inquisitors or by other zealous Catholics,

the civil powers should be under the obligation of effecting their

arrest at the request of the said inquisitors or other Catholics, and

of holding them in safe custody until excommunicated by the Church,

when they should be burnt; that the same punishment should be suffered

by _fautores_--_i.e._ those guilty of concealing or defending heretics;

that fugitives be sought for, and that converts from the same heresy be

employed to discover them.

Odious as was this last enactment, there was yet worse contained in the

Emperor’s constitution. It was decreed that “the sin of _lèse-Majesté

divine_ being, as it is, greater than that of _lèse-Majesté humaine_,

and God being the avenger of the sins of the fathers on the

children, to the end that these may not imitate the sins of those,

the descendants of heretics to the second generation shall be deemed

incapable of honours or of holding any public office--_excepting

the innocent children who shall denounce the iniquity of their

fathers_.”[19]

The barbarous provision here given in italics calls for no comment.

Within four years of issuing that harsh proclamation against all rebels

from the sway of Rome, Frederic himself, in rebellion against the

pontiff’s temporal sway, was to feel the lash of excommunication. But

with that we have no concern. After his reconciliation with the Pope

he renewed the constitution of 1224, adding a provision concerning

blasphemers, who, in common with heretics of whatever sect, should

suffer death by fire; yet if the bishops should desire to save any

such, this could only be done subject to the offender’s being deprived

of his tongue, so that never again should he blaspheme God.

* * * * *

In the year 1227 Ugolino Conti, who had been a friend of Dominic and of

Francis, ascended the papal throne under the style of Gregory IX.

It was this pontiff who, carrying forward the work that had been

undertaken in that direction by Innocent III, gave the Inquisition a

stable form. He definitely placed the control of it in the hands of the

Dominican friars, giving them, where necessary, the assistance of the

Franciscans. But the participation of the latter in the business of

that terrible tribunal is so slight as to be insignificant.

Gregory’s bull, given in “Raynaldus,”[20] is one of excommunication

against all heretics.

Further, it ordains that all condemned by the Church shall be

delivered to the secular arm for punishment, all clerics so delivered

being first degraded from their orders; that should any wish to abjure

his heresy and return to the Church, penance shall be imposed upon

him, and he shall suffer perpetual imprisonment. Abettors, concealers,

and defenders of heretics are similarly excommunicated; and if any

such shall neglect to procure absolution within one year, he shall be

accounted _infamous_, and shall be neither eligible for any public

office nor the elector of any other, nor act as witness, testator,

inheritor, nor have power to seek justice when wronged. If a judge, no

proceedings shall be laid before him, and his sentences, where passed,

shall be null and void; if an advocate, he shall not have faculty to

plead; if a notary, his deeds shall be void; if a cleric, he shall be

deposed from his office and benefices.

Similarly, the ban of excommunication shall fall upon those who hold

traffic with any who are excommunicated, and they shall further be

punished with other penalties.

Those who are under suspicion of heresy, unless they see to it

that they overcome the suspicion either by canonical purgation or

otherwise according to the quality of the person and the motives

for the suspicion, shall be excommunicated, and if they do not give

condign satisfaction within one year, they shall be deemed heretics.

Their claims or appeals shall not then be admitted, nor shall judges,

advocates, or notaries exercise their functions in favour of them;

priests shall refuse to administer the sacraments to them and to admit

their alms or oblations, and so shall the Templars and Hospitallers and

other regular orders, under pain of loss of office, from which naught

can save them but a mandate from the Holy See.

Should any give Christian burial to one who has died under

excommunication, he shall himself incur excommunication, from which he

shall not be delivered until with his own hands he shall have exhumed

the corpse, and so disposed that the place may never again be used for

sepulture.

Should any know of the existence of heretics or of any who practise

secret conventicles or whose ways of living are uncommon, they are

bound under pain of excommunication to divulge the same to their

confessor or other by whom they believe it will come to the knowledge

of their prelate.

Children of heretics and of the abettors or concealers of heretics

shall be deprived until the second generation of holding any public

office or benefice.

To the provisions of this bull, additions were made by the civil

governor of Rome, as representing the secular arm whose concern

it would be to inflict the punishments regarding which the Church

refrained from being explicit--confining herself to the promise that

they should be “condign.”

He provided that: those arrested should be detained in prison until

condemned by the Church, when, after eight days, they should be

punished.

Their property should be confiscated, one-third going to the delator,

one-third to the judge who should pronounce sentence, and one-third to

repair the walls of Rome, or otherwise as might be considered.

The dwellings of heretics or of any who should consciously have

entertained heretics should be razed to the ground.

If any man should have knowledge of the existence of heretics and fail

to denounce them he should be fined the sum of 20 livres. Should he

lack the means to pay, he was to be banished until he could find them.

Abettors and concealers of heretics should for the first offence suffer

confiscation of one-third of their property, to be applied to keeping

the walls of Rome in repair. If the offence were repeated, then they

should be banished for ever.

All who were elected senators must swear before taking office that

they would observe all laws against heretics; and were any to refuse

this oath his acts as senator would be null and void and none should

be obliged to follow or obey him, whilst those who might have sworn

obedience to him were absolved of their oath. Should a senator accept

this oath but afterwards refuse or neglect to respect its terms, he

must incur the penalties of perjury, suffer a fine of 200 silver marks,

to be applied to the repairing of the walls, and become ineligible for

any public office.

Two years later--in 1233--at a Council held at Béziers, the papal

legate, Gaultier of Tournai, elaborated these canons by the following

provisions:

“All magistrates, nobles, vassals, and others shall diligently seek to

discover, apprehend, and punish heretics wherever found. Every parish

in which a heretic is discovered shall pay as a penalty for having

harboured him one silver mark to the person who shall have discovered

him. All houses in which heretics may have preached shall be demolished

and the property confiscated, and fire shall be set to all caves and

other hiding-places where heretics are alleged to be concealed. All the

property of heretics shall be confiscated, and their children shall

inherit nothing. Their abettors, concealers, or defenders shall be

dealt with in the same manner. Any persons suspected of heresy must

make public profession of faith upon oath, under pain of suffering as

heretics; they shall be compelled to attend divine service on every

feast-day, and all who are _reconciled_ to the Church shall wear as

a distinguishing badge two crosses externally on their garments--one

on the breast, the other on the back--both of yellow cloth, three

fingers in width, the vertical limb measuring 2½ hands, the horizontal

one 2 hands.[21] If a hood is worn, this must bear a third cross--all

under pain of being deemed heretics and suffering confiscation of

property.”[22]

* * * * *

These enactments by their uncompromising harshness abundantly reveal

the extent to which heretics were execrated by the Church in her

intolerance and her firm determination to extirpate them. They also

reveal something of the far-reaching, pitiless, priestly subtlety and

craft which were to render so terrible this tribunal.

The provisions for the punishment of those who should be moved by

Christian charity to succour any of the persecuted were devised to the

end that terror should stifle all such compassion; whilst the decree

that the children of convicted heretics should suffer disinheritance

and become ineligible for any honourable appointment was calculatedly

introduced to forge a further weapon out of parental love. Where a man

might readily, himself, have endured martyrdom for his convictions,

he would be made to pause before including his children in the same

sacrifice, before suffering them to go destitute and branded.

In the eyes of the Church the end in view could not fail to justify

any means that might be employed. The extirpation of heresy was a

consummation so very fervently to be desired that any steps--almost any

sin--would be condonable if conducive to that end.

It has been argued that this crusade against heresy was political, a

campaign waged by the Church to protect herself from the onslaught of

liberty of thought, which was threatening her overthrow. Such no doubt

had been the case in earlier centuries; but it was so no longer. Roman

Catholicism had grown and spread like a mighty tree, until her shadow

lay across the face of Europe and her roots were thrust far and wide

into the soil. These had taken too firm a hold, they were too full of

vigour, to permit that the withering of an occasional branch should

give her concern for the vitality of the growth itself. She had no such

concern. However abominable, however feral, however unchristian even,

may have been the institution of the Holy Office, it is difficult to

think that the spirit in which it was founded was other than pure and

disinterested.

[Illustration:

_Photo by Lacoste._

ST. DOMINIC.

From the Painting in the Prado Gallery, attributed to Miguel Zittoz.]

It may seem bitterly ironical that men should have been found who in

the name of the meek and compassionate Christ relentlessly racked and

burnt their fellow-creatures. It was--bitterly, deplorably, tragically

ironical. But they were not conscious of the irony. In what they did

they were sincere--as sincere as St. Augustine when he urged the

extermination of heretics; and none can call in question his sincerity

or the purity of his motives.

To understand their attitude it is but necessary to consider the

absolute belief that was the Catholics’ in what Lecky calls “the

doctrine of exclusive salvation.” Starting from the premise that the

Church of Rome is the true and only Church of Christ, they held that

no salvation was possible for any man who was not a member of it. Nor

could ignorance--however absolute--of the true faith be urged as an

excuse for error, any more than may ignorance of the law be pleaded in

the worldly courts to-day. Thus, not only did they account irrevocably

damned those who schismatically deserted from the Church, and those

who like Jew and Moslem remained deliberately outside its walls, but

similarly--such was man’s indifferently flattering conception of divine

justice and divine intelligence--the savages who had never so much

as heard the name of Christ, and the very babe who died before his

heritage of Original Sin could be washed away by the baptismal waters.

Indeed, fathers of the Church had waged heated wars of controversy

concerning the precise moment at which pre-natal life sets in, and,

consequently, damnation is incurred by the soul of the fœtus should it

perish in the womb.

When it is considered that such doctrines were held dogmatically,

it will be realized that in the sight of the Church--whose business

was the salvation of souls--there could be no sin so intolerable, so

execrable, as heresy. It will be realized how it happened that the

Church could consider those of her children who were guilty of such

crimes as murder, rape, adultery, and the sin of the Cities of the

Plain, with the tolerance of an indulgent parent, whilst rising up in

intolerant wrath to smite the heretic whose life might be a model of

pure conduct. The former were guilty of only the sins of weak humanity;

and sinners who have the faith may seek forgiveness, and find it in

contrition. But heresy was not merely the worst of sins, as some have

held. In the eyes of the Church it transcended the realm of sin--it

was infinitely worse than sin, because it represented a state that was

entirely hopeless, a state not to be redeemed or mitigated by good

actions or purity of life.

Taking this view of heresy, the Church accounted it her duty to stamp

out this awful soul-pestilence so as to prevent its spreading; and she

had St. Augustine’s word for it that it was merciful to be merciless in

the attainment of that object. When viewed, as it were, from within,

there is nothing illogical in the attitude of the Church towards

heresy. What is illogical is the conception of God that is involved in

the doctrine of exclusive salvation.

Even if we survey the case of Galileo--one of the most illustrious

prisoners ever arraigned before the tribunal of the Holy Office--we

have no just cause to suppose that, in demanding his retraction of

the theory of the earth’s movement round the sun, the inquisitors

were inspired by any motives beyond the fear lest the spread of a

notion--honestly deemed by them to be an illusion--should disturb man’s

faith in the Biblical teaching with which it was in conflict.

Torquemada and the Spanish Inquisition: A History · 第 3 / 27 章