Appointment of the Inquisitors in Spain—their extensive
privileges—procedure of the tribunal of the "Holy
Office"—eagerness of the Inquisitors to preserve secrecy in all
their transactions—prisons of the Inquisition—examination of a
culprit—artifice and injustice practised by the judges to induce
a person to criminate himself—striking example of their duplicity
and barbarity.
Having thus seen the complete establishment of the Inquisition in
Spain, before proceeding further in its history, we shall give an
outline of the mode of procedure in the "Holy Office," together with
some account of the officers belonging to that infamous tribunal. At
the head of the Inquisition in Spain, stands the Inquisitor-general.
This high officer is appointed nominally by the king, but in reality
by the Pope, for the Holy See enjoys the privilege of a _veto_ on
the election of the sovereign. The supreme Inquisitor cannot proceed
one step in the discharge of his office, till he has received the
confirmation of the Sovereign Pontiff. When thus elected and confirmed,
the Inquisitor-general appoints the subordinate Inquisitors, but in
this last instance, the nomination of the supreme Inquisitor is subject
to the review of the king. So high in dignity is the Inquisitor-general
esteemed by the Romish Church, that he enjoys the title of "most
reverend," a title which places him on an equal footing with bishops.
The privileges of the Inquisitors are many and valuable. They are not
subject to the bishops of the provinces where they reside, or to the
superiors of the religious orders to which they belong. They alone
can publish the edicts against heretics; they can excommunicate,
interdict, and suspend; and, except in a few cases which are distinctly
specified, they can prevent the ordinaries or resident bishops from
absolving those whom they have subjected to the censure of the Church.
They may apprehend heretics, though they take refuge in churches; make
statutes, and increase the punishments on those who violate them; grant
indulgences of twenty or forty days; and give full pardon of sins to
all their officers who die in their service. "Whoever, by himself or
others, shall kill, beat, or strike any of the Inquisitors, or the
officials of the holy office, or who shall injure or damage their
effects, shall be delivered over to the secular power."
With a few exceptions, the Inquisitors may proceed against all persons
whatsoever, both among the clergy and the laity. Bishops, priests, and
friars, nay, princes and kings, must be subject to this extraordinary
tribunal. Persons of every age and condition, and of both sexes, may be
cited as witnesses, in the causes which it takes up. We have a striking
example of this in the citation of Joan, daughter of the Emperor
Charles V., before that tribunal, to give evidence in a case where a
person was accused of holding doctrines contrary to the faith. So great
was the awe with which this court inspired the superstitious emperor,
that he commanded his daughter without delay to obey the summons,
in order to avoid the sentence of excommunication. She accordingly
appeared before the Inquisitor-general on the day appointed, and gave
her evidence in the case under consideration.
The Inquisitors of Spain and Portugal, especially, pretend to have
jurisdiction over the subjects of other kings. Of this we have a
remarkable example in the case of Thomas Maynard, consul of the British
nation in Lisbon, under the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, who
was imprisoned in the Inquisition under pretence of having spoken
something against the Romish faith. M. Meadows, who at that period
took care of the English affairs at Lisbon, informed Cromwell of the
imprisonment of the consul, and having received instructions from the
Protector, he obtained an audience of the king of Portugal, and, in
the name of Cromwell, demanded the liberation of Maynard. The king,
however, informed him, that this was not in his power—the consul
being detained by the Inquisition, over which he had no authority.
This answer was transmitted by Meadows to Cromwell; and, having
shortly afterwards received new instructions, he informed the king,
that, seeing his majesty had no power over the Inquisition, he was
commanded by the Protector immediately to declare war against it. This
unexpected declaration so alarmed both the king and the Inquisitors,
that they immediately gave Maynard liberty to leave the Inquisition.
But, scorning to accept of a private dismission, the consul compelled
the Inquisitors, in order to repair the injury done to his character,
to give him an honourable acquittal. Very few, however, are the
individuals who thus escape out of the hands of these tyrants.
The Inquisitors can prevent cognizance being taken of any particular
matter, may order any process to be stopped, and may bring before
themselves any cause, at what ever stage of the proceedings. They
can further modify and alter all sentences of condemnation, in the
terms they may think proper. Nay, they even possess the character of
legislators, being authorized to interpret the canon law, in matters
relating to the government of the court. They may also compel the
governors of cities to swear that they will defend the Church against
heretics, and to extirpate all who are denounced heretics by the
Church. And for the better apprehending of heretics, as well as for
their own safety, they may arm both themselves and their attendants.
"Even in exterior pomp and parade," says Puigblanch, "the supreme
chief of the Inquisition emulated kingly power and ostentation, both
within and without his tribunal. It is well known that Torquemada, in
his journeys, either because he was influenced by fear, or sought to
infuse it, carried about with him fifty familiars on horseback, and
two hundred on foot. A penitent by profession—for this is the real
definition of a friar—bearing about with him arrogance and terror
wherever he went! In the service also of the Inquisitor-general, and
of his tribunal, the grandees of the most distinguished pedigree have
been employed; indeed, they have not disdained to accept the title and
duties of bailiff. Even the Cortes of the kingdom have had to yield to
his predominant authority."
Besides the Inquisitor-general, there are five counsellors, who have
the title of Apostolical Inquisitors. These counsellors deliberate
upon all affairs with the Inquisitor-general, settle disputes among
the particular Inquisitors, punish the familiars attached to the
institution, and receive appeals. These officers, together with an
advocate-fiscal, two secretaries, a treasurer, accountant, reporters,
bailiffs, and qualificators, constitute the supreme council, or high
court of the Inquisition in Spain. The provincial tribunals have three
and sometimes four Inquisitors of the secular clergy, and a number of
other officers bearing the same names, and occupying the same stations,
as those attached to the supreme council.
In regard to the mode of procedure before the tribunal of the holy
office, it must be kept in mind, that the Inquisitors not only
encourage, but compel, by their threatenings and excommunications,
every class of the community to become _informers_, or accusers of
all whom they suspect of holding heretical tenets. Informations are
consequently received, without any respect to the character of the
persons by whom they are given. Thieves and cheats, prejudiced persons,
the nearest relatives, and even children, are not only allowed, but
invited to inform: while the names of the accusers and witnesses are
uniformly kept hidden from the unhappy individual who is thus denounced
to the holy office. "Their form of proceeding," says Voltaire, "is
an infallible way to destroy whomsoever the Inquisitors wish. The
prisoners are not confronted with the accuser or informer. Nor is there
any informer or witness who is not listened to. A public convict,
a notorious malefactor, an infamous person, a common prostitute, a
child, are in the holy office, though nowhere else, credible accusers
and witnesses. Even the son may depose against his father, the wife
against her husband. This procedure, unheard of till the institution of
this court, makes the whole kingdom tremble. Suspicion reigns in every
breast. Friendship and quietness are at an end. The brother dreads his
brother, the father his son."
There are three ways in which the process may begin before the
Inquisitorial courts. First, by investigation, where the Inquisitor
summons certain individuals into his presence, and inquires into
the state of the town or district where they reside. Secondly, by
accusation, where a direct charge of heresy is brought before the
court, against one or more persons distinctly named. Thirdly, by
denunciation, where the Inquisitor is merely informed, that certain
heretical persons, or persons suspected of heresy, who are likewise
distinctly named, exist within the limits of his jurisdiction. The last
is by far the most common mode, and it is that which the Inquisitors
are most desirous to encourage Nor is it difficult to perceive the
reason, seeing the denunciator does not bind himself to prove the
charge he prefers, and is under no apprehension of punishment.
When the information has been lodged, the following questions are
usually proposed: Whether the informer knows the person suspected of
heresy, and if so, how long he has known him? Whether he has said or
done the things imputed to him oftener than once? and whether in jest
or in earnest, and in whose company those things were said or done?
The answers to these and similar questions, are written down by the
notary, and read over to the informer, who either subscribes them, or
puts under them the mark of the cross. He is then sworn to secrecy.
"His name, his personal appearance, the place of his abode, and every
other circumstance respecting him, are studiously concealed by the
Inquisitors, lest the practice of informing should be discouraged; and
having once put the court in possession of the requisite intelligence,
he drops away entirely from the view, and is never again mentioned,
and, if possible, is never again referred to, in the whole course
of the process. Thus does this odious tribunal, called by an abuse
of language the Holy Office, in the very first step of its judicial
procedure, afford to the most infamous the pleasure of gratification
with the certainty of concealment, and provide an opportunity for
indulging the worst feelings and passions of our nature—personal
malice, envy, and revenge."
Nay, not only are informers and witnesses sworn to secrecy; every
individual connected with the Inquisition, from the highest rank to the
keeper of the jail, must take a similar oath; and strict watch is kept
on all their movements. A striking example of the rigour with which all
are treated who deviate in the smallest degree from this Inquisitorial
injunction, is given by Gonsalvius Montanus, in the following
narrative: "One Peter ab Herera," says he, "a man not altogether vile,
but of some humanity, and not very old, was appointed keeper of the
tower of Triana, which is the prison of the Inquisition. It happened,
as it often doth, in such numerous and promiscuous imprisonments, that
among other prisoners committed to his custody, there was a certain
good matron, with her two daughters who were put in different cells,
and earnestly desired the liberty of seeing one another, and comforting
each other in so great a calamity. They therefore earnestly entreated
the keeper, that he would suffer them to be together for one quarter
of an hour, that they might have the satisfaction of embracing each
other. He being moved with humanity and compassion, allowed them to
be together, and talk with one another, for half an hour; and after
they had indulged their mutual affections, he put them as they were
before, in their separate prisons. A few days after this they were put
with great cruelty to the torture; and the keeper being afraid, that
through the severity of their torments, they should discover to the
lords, the fathers Inquisitors, his small humanity in suffering them
to converse together for half an hour without the Inquisitor's leave;
through terror went himself to the holy tribunal, and of his own accord
confessed his sin, and prayed for pardon; foolishly believing, that by
such his confession, he should prevent the punishment that threatened
him for this action. But the lords Inquisitors judged this to be so
heinous a crime, that they ordered him immediately to be thrown into
jail, and such was the cruelty of his treatment, and disorder of mind
that followed on it, that he soon grew distracted. His disorder and
madness did not, however, save him from a more grievous punishment.
For after he had lain a full year in that cursed prison, they brought
him out in the public procession, clothed with the yellow garment,
and a halter about his neck, as if he had been a common thief; and
condemned him first to receive two hundred lashes through the streets
of the city, and then to be banished to the galleys for six years.
The day after the procession, as he was carried from the prison to be
whipped, his madness, which usually seized him every hour, came on him,
and throwing himself from the ass, on which, for the greater shame,
he was carried, he flew upon the Inquisitory alguazil, and snatching
from him a sword, would certainly have killed himself, had he not been
prevented by the mob who attended him, who set him again upon an ass,
and guarded him till he had received the two hundred lashes according
to his sentence. After this, the lords Inquisitors ordered, that as he
had behaved himself indecently towards the alguazil, four years more
should be added to the six for which he was at first condemned to the
galleys."
When the tribunal judges that the words or actions which are denounced,
are sufficient to warrant an inquiry, witnesses are cited, none of whom
are informed of the subject on which they are to make depositions.
They are only asked in general terms, "If they have ever heard or
seen any thing which was, or appeared contrary to the Catholic faith,
or the right of the Inquisition?" The consequence is, that sometimes
circumstances foreign to the case in hand are recollected, and deposed
to by the witnesses, which tend to criminate others, against whom new
processes are immediately commenced! "When we speak of witnesses in
Great Britain," says an eminent writer, "we almost unavoidably think of
a charge regularly brought, the judges upon the bench, the jury sworn,
the criminal apprehended, and in open court, the people admitted as
auditors, and the whole judicial assembly feeling and acting under
the assurance that they are responsible to an intelligent and watchful
public, for every part of their proceedings. But, in the Inquisitorial
tribunal, when the witnesses are summoned, the party accused has not
even been taken into custody. He remains in his own house, and in the
bosom of his family, engaged in his ordinary occupations, and entering,
it may be, into the amusements of the place where he lives; utterly
ignorant of all that has been done against him, and utterly unprepared
for all that is to follow. In truth, the depositions of the witnesses
are viewed, rather in connection with the charge, than with the issue,
and relate not so much to the guilt or the innocence of the party
accused, as to the sufficiency or insufficiency of the information.
Like the informer, the witnesses are sworn to secrecy; their names
and personal history are most industriously concealed; and there are
instances upon record, where brothers and sisters have given evidence
against brothers and sisters, where the wife has deposed against the
husband, and the husband against the wife."
The next step, is the apprehension of the person accused. This is given
in charge to the high bailiff, who executes his commission by carrying
with him a competent number of officers, taking the precaution to
surprise the unhappy victim, which is generally done at night. Not the
slightest hint of insecurity is given, not a suspicion is breathed,
till about midnight, a band of monsters calmly approach the residence
of the accused and demand an entrance.[13] To the question, "In
whose name is this required?" the answer is, "The Holy Office." "The
thunderbolt, launched from the black and angry cloud," says Puigblanch,
"strikes not with such alarm, as the sound of 'Deliver yourself up a
prisoner to the Inquisition.' Astonished and trembling, the unwary
citizen hears the dismal voice; a thousand different affections at once
seize upon his panic-struck frame—he remains perplexed and motionless.
His life, in danger, his deserted wife and orphan children, eternal
infamy, the only patrimony that now awaits his bereft family, are all
ideas which rush upon his mind—he is at once agitated by an agony of
dilemma and despair. The burning tear scarcely glistens on his livid
cheek, the accents of woe die on his lips, and amidst the alarm and
desolation of his family, and the confusion and pity of his neighbours,
he is borne away to dungeons, whose damp and bare walls can alone
witness the anguish of his mind. "Here," continues the same elegant
writer, "was usually confined the father of a family, perhaps his
amiable wife, or tender daughter, the exemplary priest, or peaceful
scholar; and in the meantime his house was bathed in tears, and filled
with desolation. Venerable matrons and timid damsels have been hurried
from their homes, and, ignorant of the cause of their misfortune, have
awakened from the frenzy of the brain, and found themselves here alone,
and helpless in a solitary cell. Here the manly youth, torn from his
bewailing kindred, and often wrested from ties still more endearing,
pines amidst damp seclusion and chill despair, and vainly invokes
the names of objects which so lately thrilled him with pleasure.
The dripping vaults re-echo the sighs of the aged father, no longer
encircled by the fond endearments of a numerous progeny; all, in short,
are condemned to drag existence amidst a death-like silence, and, as it
were, immured from the sight of their weeping relatives."
The prisoners are confined in separate cells, which are not only
small, but contain no other furniture except a wooden bed stead, a
table, one chair, and sometimes none. There are usually two rows of
cells, built over each other. The upper rows are lighted by means of a
small iron grate, and the lower are perfectly dark. In each cell there
are placed two pots of water, one to wash in, and the other to drink.
The treatment of the prisoners varies according to their rank; their
allowance sometimes amounting to no more than three half-pence or two
pence a day. The under rows of cells are appropriated for heretics.
There, in solitude and silence, they never see a human being except
their keeper. Thus persons the most nearly related to each other, may
be confined in contiguous cells without knowing it; and the merciless
turnkeys are constantly on the watch, to prevent the utterance of any
sound, lest it should occasion the discovery of some secret. If a
person bemoans himself, or bewails his misfortune, or prays to God with
an audible voice, he is instantly silenced. As persons may know one
another by their cough, as well as by their articulate voice, no one
is allowed even this expression of his misery, in the dungeons of the
Inquisition. Limborch relates the following instance of such unheard
of barbarity, which, he says, he had from several persons. "A prisoner
in the Inquisition coughed; the jailers came to him, and admonished
him to forbear coughing, because it was unlawful to make any noise in
that house. He answered that it was not in his power to forbear. They
admonished him, however, a second time, to forbear it, and because he
did not, they stripped him naked, and cruelly beat him; this increased
his cough, for which they beat him so often, that at last he died
through the pain and anguish of his stripes!"
Very soon after the accused is conducted to the Inquisition, he is
brought forth from his cell and examined. The place where he appears
before the Inquisitors is called the table of the holy office. At
the further end of it there is placed a crucifix, raised up almost
as high as the ceiling. In the middle of the room stands a table, at
the end of which, nearest the crucifix, sits the secretary or notary
of the Inquisition. The culprit is brought in by the beadle, with his
head, arms, and feet naked, and is followed by one of the keepers. His
attendants conduct him to the door of the chamber of audience, which he
enters alone, and is ordered to sit down on a bench at the other end
of the table, directly opposite the notary. The Inquisitor sits on his
right hand. On the table near the culprit lies a missal, or book of the
Gospels, on which he is ordered to lay his hand, and swear that he will
declare truth, and keep secresy.
He is then asked if he knows where he is, whether he is aware that he
is within the walls of the Inquisition, and why it is that men are
usually detained in the custody of the holy office. If he says that he
cannot guess at the cause of his imprisonment, but knows that he is a
prisoner in the holy office, where heretics or persons suspected of
heresy are confined, he is informed, that seeing he knows that persons
are confined there for their profanation of religion, he ought to
conclude that he is confined for the same reason; and must therefore
declare what he believes to be the cause of his apprehension and
confinement in the prisons of the holy office. If he says he cannot
imagine what it is, he is desired to recollect himself, to run over in
his mind the events of his past life, and to search out and ascertain
whether he may not, on some occasion, have said or done something
contrary to the purity of the Catholic faith, and the authority of the
Inquisition. If he still persists in maintaining his ignorance, he is
informed that every degree of mercy is shown towards those who confess,
while the obstinate are treated with the utmost severity.
The prisoner is next obliged to declare his whole genealogy and
descent, and to make known whether any of his ancestors, or himself,
his brothers, wife, or children, had at any time previous been
arraigned before the tribunal. These questions are put for the purpose
of implicating the accused in a stronger manner, and to obtain
possession of the property he may have inherited, by declaring the
right of succession null and void, to the destruction, perhaps, of many
families. Numerous other questions are asked, varied in every possible
way, and every art of unrighteous investigation is tried; and if, after
all, he still persists in declaring himself ignorant of any word or
action that can be construed into heresy, he is informed, that he must
be carried back to his dungeon, to aid his memory by reflection. This
ceremony is performed three times, with some interval between each.
"The idea all this presents is," says Puigblanch, "that the court
wishes the prisoner to confess, under the hope of being treated with
greater kindness; but, without dreading the charge of temerity, and
judging only from the strict nature of the process, I may venture
to attribute to such a practice the highest refinement of the
Inquisitorial test. At least it will not be denied that the prisoner
is compelled to scrutinize every act and period of his life, till
at last he hits on the cause of his impeachment. Scarcely recovered
from the surprise caused by his arrest, and appalled by the contrast
his imagination forms of the many and secret steps previously taken,
compared with the state of security in which he lately lived, from that
moment the prisoner begins to despair, and hopeless and dismayed, he
already beholds the torment that awaits him. Bewildered, as in the
mazes of a labyrinth, wherever he turns his eyes, some fresh object
increases his pain, and adds to his anguish. Under the undoubted
supposition, that in this abode of wretchedness, the appearance of the
most officious charity conceals acts of the most insidious cruelty,
he beholds no one who is not an enemy, and hears nothing that is not
directed to his ruin. Secluded from every species of intercourse, if
his keeper says any thing unconnected with the service of his person,
it is to assure him that it will be much in his favour to confess
according to the pleasure of the Inquisitors. If an attorney is allowed
him, it is after he has sworn to use every exertion to induce his
client to confess, and that he will abandon his defence from the moment
he discovers his guilt. Thus is it that the prisoner has more to fear
from his advocate than from the proctor of his enemies."
If, on the other hand, the prisoner knows the reason why he is
apprehended, and happens to confess every thing of which he has been
accused to the Inquisitor, he is commended, and encouraged to hope for
a speedy deliverance. If he confesses some things, but cannot guess at
others, he is also commended for having resolved to accuse himself,
and exhorted, "by the bowels of mercy of Jesus Christ," to proceed,
and ingenuously to confess every thing else of which he is accused,
that he may experience that kindness and mercy which this tribunal
uses towards those who manifest a real repentance of their crimes by a
sincere and voluntary confession!
In these examinations, the Inquisitors have recourse to the meanest
artifices, in order to draw from the prisoner a confession of those
crimes of which he is accused, making great professions of sympathy,
and numerous promises of favour, if he will but yield to their
solicitations. By these flattering assurances, they sometimes impose
on the unwary; and when they have gained their object, they forget
their promises, and treat the unhappy objects of their deception
with the utmost rigour. In proof of this, the following among other
stratagems, drawn up by Nicholas Eymeric, Inquisitor-general of
Arragon, about the middle of the fourteenth century, are submitted
to the reader:—"When the prisoner has been impeached of the crime of
heresy, but not convicted, and he obstinately persists in his denial,
let the Inquisitor take the proceedings into his hands, or any other
file of papers, and looking them over in his presence, let him feign to
have discovered the offence fully established therein, and that he is
desirous he should at once make his confession. The Inquisitor shall
then say to the prisoner, as if in astonishment, 'And is it possible
that you shall still deny what I have here before my own eyes?' He
shall then seem as if he read, and to the end that the prisoner may
know no better, he shall fold down the leaf, and after reading some
moments longer, he shall say to him, 'It is just as I have said, why,
therefore, do you deny it, when you see I know the whole matter?' When
the Inquisitor has an opportunity, he shall manage so as to introduce
to the conversation of the prisoner some one of his accomplices, or
any other converted heretic, who shall feign that he still persists in
his heresy, telling him that he had abjured for the sole purpose of
escaping punishment by deceiving the Inquisition. Having thus gained
his confidence, he shall go into his cell some day after dinner, and
keeping up the conversation till night, shall remain with him, under
pretext of its being too late to return home. He shall then urge the
prisoner to tell him all the particulars of his life, having first told
him the whole of his own; and in the meantime spies shall be kept at
the door, as well as a notary, in order to certify what may be said
within!!" All this needs no comment, it speaks for itself; and were
it not given on the most unexceptionable authority, we could not but
reject it as a fiction. But, alas! what the fanatical Eymeric taught
has been too implicitly followed; and thus the procedure of a court,
impiously called HOLY, is sufficient to put the most barbarous nations,
nay devils themselves, to the blush.
Gonsalvius, for example, mentions a striking instance of the duplicity
and cruelty of the lords of the Holy Office. "In the first fire that
was blown up at Seville," says the author, "in 1558 or 1559, among
many others who were taken up, were a certain pious matron, her two
daughters, and her niece. Unable to effect his purpose by means of the
torture, the Inquisitor ordered one of the daughters to be brought
before him. Having discoursed with her for a considerable time, he
pretended to feel the greatest affliction for her amidst her trials.
All this, as the event showed, had only this tendency, that after he
had persuaded the poor simple girl that he was really, and with a
fatherly affection, concerned for her calamity, and would consult as a
father, what might be for her benefit and salvation, and that of her
relatives, she might throw herself upon his protection. After spending
several days in such familiar discourses, during which he pretended
to mourn with her over her sufferings, and to be affected with her
miseries, adding innumerable promises of his desire to free her from
them; when he perceived that he had deceived the girl, he proceeded
to persuade her to discover all she knew, not only of herself, but
of her mother, sisters, and aunts, protesting upon oath, that if she
would faithfully reveal to him every particular, he would find out a
method to relieve her from all her misfortunes, and to send them all
back again to their homes. Possessed of no great penetration, the
girl, allured by the promises and persuasions of this father of the
holy faith, proceeded to inform him of some things relative to the
doctrines which she had been taught, and concerning which they had
been accustomed to converse with each other. Having now got hold of
the thread, the Inquisitor dexterously enough endeavoured to find his
way through the whole labyrinth—often calling the girl to audience,
that what she had deposed might be taken down in a legal manner; and
always persuading her that this would be the only just means to put an
end to all her evils. But when the poor girl expected the performance
of his numerous promises, the Inquisitor, finding the success of his
craftiness, by which he had in part drawn from her what before he could
not extort by torments, determined again to put her to the torture,
in order to force out of her what he imagined she had yet concealed.
She was accordingly subjected to torture, both by the rack and water,
till the Inquisitors had squeezed out of her, as with a press, both the
heresies and accusations of the persons they had been hunting after;
for, through the extremity of her torture, she accused her mother and
sister, and several others, who were apprehended and tortured, and
burnt alive in the same fire with the girl!"
FOOTNOTE:
[13] The following affords a view of the secrecy with which the
affairs of the holy office are conducted: "When the familiar is sent
for to apprehend any person," says Limborch, "he has the following
order put into his hand: 'By the command of the reverend father N. an
Inquisitor of heretical pravity, let B. be apprehended, and committed
to the prisons of this holy office, and not to be released out of
them, but by the express order of the said reverend Inquisitor.' And
if several persons are to be taken up at the same time, the familiars
are commanded so to order things, that they may know nothing of one
another's being apprehended. And at this the familiars are so very
expert, that a father and his three sons and three daughters, who
lived together in the same house, were all carried prisoners to the
Inquisition, without knowing any thing of one another's being there
until seven years afterwards, when they that were alive came forth to
an auto-da-fé."