after you were baptized?
--I do renounce it.[1]
Again the Bishop addressed "the Believer" to impress upon him the new
duties involved in his receiving the Holy Spirit. Those who were
present prayed God to pardon the candidate's sins, and then venerated
"the Perfected" (the ceremony of the _Parcia_). After the Bishop's
prayer, "May God bless thee, make thee a good Christian, and grant
thee a good end," the candidate made a solemn promise faithfully to
fulfill the duties he had learned during his _probatio_. The words of
his promise are to be found in Sacconi: "I promise to devote my life
to God and to the Gospel, never to lie or swear, never to touch a
woman, never to kill an animal, never to eat meat, eggs or milk-food;
never to eat anything but fish and vegetables, never to do anything
without first saying the Lord's Prayer, never to eat, travel, or pass
the night without a _socius_. If I fall into the hands of my enemies
or happen to be separated from my _socius_, I promise to spend three
days without food or drink. I will never take off my clothes on
retiring, nor will I deny my faith even when threatened with death."
The ceremony of the _Parcia_ was then repeated.
[1] Sacconi, _Summa de Catharis_, in Martens and Durand, _Thesaurus
novus anecdotorum_, vol. v, p. 1776.
Then, according to the ritual, "the Bishop takes the book (the New
Testament), and places it upon the head of the candidate," while the
other "good men" present impose hands upon him, saying: "Holy Father,
accept this servant of yours in all righteousness, and send your
grace and your Spirit upon him." The Holy Spirit was then supposed to
descend, and the ceremony of the _consolamentum_ was finished; "the
Believer" had become one of "the Perfected."
However, before the assembly disposed, "the Perfected" proceeded to
carry out two other ceremonies: the vesting and the kiss of peace.
"While their worship was tolerated," writes an historian, "they gave
their new brother a black garment; but in times of persecution they
did not wear it, for fear of betraying themselves to the officials of
the Inquisition. In the thirteenth century, in southern France, they
were known by the linen or flaxen belt, which the men wore over their
shirts, and the women wore _cordulam cinctam ad carnem nudam subtus
mamillas_. They resembled the cord or scapular that the Catholic
tertiaries wore to represent the habit of the monastic order to which
they belonged. They were therefore called _hæretici vestiti_, which
became a common term for 'the Perfected.'"
[1] Jean Guiraud, _Le consolamentum ou initiation cathare_, loc.
cit., p. 134.
The last ceremony was the kiss of peace, which "the Perfected" gave
their new brother, by kissing him twice (on the mouth), _bis in ore
ex transverso_. He in turn kissed the one nearest him, who passed on
the _pax_ to all present. If the recipient was a woman, the minister
gave her the _pax_ by touching her shoulder with the book of the
gospels, and his elbow with hers. She transmitted this symbolic kiss
in the same manner to the one next to her, if he was a man. After a
last fraternal embrace, they all congratulated the new brother, and
the assembly dispersed.
The promises made by this new member of "the Perfected" were not all
equally hard to keep. As far as positive duties were concerned, there
were but three: the daily recitation of the Lord's Prayer, the
breaking of bread, and the _Apparellamentum_.
Only "the Perfected" were allowed to recite the Lord's Prayer. The
Cathari explained the esoteric character of this prayer by that
passage in the Apocalypse which speaks of the one hundred and
forty-four thousand elect who follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth,
and who sing a hymn which only virgins can sing.[1] This hymn was the
Pater Noster. Married people, therefore, and consequently "the
Believers," could not repeat it without profanation. But "the
Perfected" were obliged to say it every day, especially before
meals.[2]
[1] Apoc. xiv. 1-4.
[2] The Perfected had to live with a _socius_ who blessed his food,
while he in turn had to bless the food of his companion. If he
separated from his _socius_, he had to do without food and drink for
three days. This frequently happened when they were arrested and cast
into prison.
They blessed the bread without making the sign of the cross.
This "breaking of bread" replaced the Eucharist. They thought in this
way to reproduce the Lord's Supper, while they repudiated all the
ceremonies of the Catholic Mass. "The Believers" partook of this
blessed bread when they sat at the table with "the Perfected," and
they were wont to carry some of it home to eat from time to time.
Some attributed to it a wonderful sanctifying power, and believed
that if at their death none of "the Perfected" were present to
administer the _consolamentum_, this "bread of the holy prayer" would
itself ensure their salvation. They were therefore very anxious to
keep some of it on hand; and we read of "the Believers" of Languedoc
having some sent them from Lombardy, when they were no longer able to
communicate with their persecuted brethren.
It was usually distributed to all present during the
_Apparellamentum_. This was the solemn monthly reunion of all the
Cathari, "the Believers" and "the Perfected." All present confessed
their sins, no matter how slight, although only a general confession
was required. As a rule the Deacon addressed the assembly, which
closed with the _Parcia_ and the kiss of peace: _osculantes sese
invicem ex transverso_.
There was nothing very hard in this; on the contrary, it was the
consoling side of their life. But their rigorous laws of fasting and
abstinence constituted a most severe form of mortification.
"The Perfected" kept three Lents a year; the first from St. Brice's
day (November 13) till Christmas; the second from Quinquagesima
Sunday till Easter; the third from Pentecost to the feast of Saints
Peter and Paul. They called the first and last weeks of these Lents
the strict weeks (_septimana stricta_), because during them they
fasted on bread and water every day, whereas the rest of the time
they fasted only three days out of the seven. Besides these special
penitential seasons, they observed the same rigorous fast three days
a week all during the year, unless they were sick or were
traveling.[1]
[1] Bernard Gui, _Practica inquisitionis_, p. 239.
These heretics were known everywhere by their fasting and abstinence.
"They are good men," it was said, "who live holy lives, fasting three
days a week and never eating meat."[1]
[1] Douais, _Les manuscrits du château de Merville_, in the _Annales
du Midi_, 1890, p. 185.
They never ate, meat, in fact, and this law of abstinence extended,
as we have seen, to eggs, cheese, and everything which was the result
of animal propagation. They were allowed, however, to eat
cold-blooded animals like fish, because of the strange idea they had
of their method of propagation.
One of the results, or rather one of the causes of their abstinence
from meat, was the absolute respect they had for animal life in
general. We have seen that they admitted metempsychosis. According to
their belief, the body of an ox or an ass might be the dwelling place
of a human soul. To kill these animals, therefore, was a crime
equivalent to murder. "For that reason," says Bernard Gui, "they
never kill an animal or a bird; for they believe that in animals and
birds dwell the souls of men, who died without having been received
into their sect by the imposition of hands."[1] This was also one of
the signs by which they could be known as heretics. We read of them
being condemned at Goslar and elsewhere for having refused to kill
and eat a chicken.
[1] _Practica inquisitionis_, p. 240.
Their most extraordinary mortification was the law of chastity, as
they understood and practiced it. They had a great horror of
Christian marriage, and endeavored to defend their views by the
Scriptures. Had not Christ said: "Whosoever shall look on a woman to
lust after her, hath already committed adultery with her in his
heart;"[1] i.e., was he not guilty of a crime? "The children of this
world marry," He says again, "and are given in marriage; but they
that shall be accounted worthy of that world and of the resurrection
from the dead, shall neither be married, nor take wives."[2] "It is
good," says St. Paul, "for a man not to touch a woman."[3]
[1] Matt. v. 28.
[2] Luke xx. 34, 35.
[3] I Corinth. vii. 1, 7.
The Cathari interpreted these texts literally, and when their
opponents cited other texts of Scripture which plainly taught the
sacred character of Christian marriage, they at once interpreted them
in a spiritual or symbolic sense. The only legitimate marriage in
their eyes was the union of the Bishop with the Church, or the union
of the soul with the Holy Spirit by the ceremony of the
_consolamentum_.
They condemned absolutely all marital relations. That was the sin of
Adam and Eve. Pierre Garsias taught at Toulouse that the forbidden
fruit of the Garden of Eden was simply carnal pleasure.
One of the purposes of marriage is the begetting of children. But the
propagation of the human species is plainly the work of the Evil
Spirit. A woman with child is a woman possessed of the devil. "Pray
God," said one of "the Perfected" to the wife of a Toulouse lumber
merchant, "pray God that He deliver you from the devil within you."
The greatest evil that could befall a woman was to die _enceinte_;
for being in the state of impurity and in the power of Satan, she
could not be saved. We read of the Cathari saying this to Peirona de
la Caustra: _quod si decederet prægnans non posset salvari_.
Marriage, because it made such a condition possible, was absolutely
condemned. Bernard Gui thus resumes the teaching of the Cathari on
this point: "They condemn marriage absolutely; they maintain that it
is a perpetual state of sin; they deny that a good God can institute
it. They declare the marital relation as great a sin as incest with
one's mother, daughter, or sister." And this is by no means a
calumnious charge. The language which Bernard Gui attributes to these
heretics was used by them on every possible occasion. They were
unable to find words strong enough to express their contempt for
marriage. "Marriage," they said, "is nothing but licentiousness;
marriage is merely prostitution." In their extreme hatred, they even
went so far as to prefer open licentiousness to it, saying:
"Cohabitation with one's wife is a worse crime than adultery." One
might be inclined to think that this was merely an extravagant
outburst; but, on the contrary, they tried to defend this view by
reason. Licentiousness, they argued, was a temporary thing, to which
a man gave himself up only in secret; he might in time become ashamed
of it, repent and renounce it entirely. The married state, on the
contrary, caused no shame whatever; men never thought of renouncing
it, because they did not dream of the wickedness it entailed: _quia
magis publice et sine verecundia peccatum fiebat_.
No one, therefore, was admitted to the _consolamentum_ unless he had
renounced all marital relations. In this case, the woman "gave her
husband to God, and to the good men." It often happened, too, that
women, moved by the preaching of "the Perfected," condemned their
unconverted husbands to an enforced celibacy. This was one of the
results of the neo-Manichean teachings.
Moreover, they carried their principles so far as to consider it a
crime even to touch a woman.
They forbade a man to sit next to a woman except in case of
necessity. "If a woman touches you," said Pierre Autier, "you must
fast three days on bread and water; and if you touch a woman, you
must fast nine days on the same diet." At the ceremony of the
_consolamentum_, the Bishop who imposed hands on the future sister
took great care not to touch her, even with the end of his finger; to
avoid doing so, he always covered the postulant with a veil.
But in times of persecution, this over-scrupulous caution was
calculated to attract public attention. "The Perfected" (men and
women) lived together, pretending that they were married, so that
they would not be known as heretics. It was their constant care,
however, to avoid the slightest contact. This caused them at times
great inconvenience. While traveling, they shared the same bed, the
better to avoid suspicion. But they slept with their clothes on, and
thus managed to follow out the letter of the law: _tamen induti quod
unus alium in nuda carne non tangebat_.
Many Catholics were fully persuaded that this pretended love of
purity was merely a cloak to hide the grossest immorality. But while
we may admit that many of "the Perfected" did actually violate their
promise of absolute chastity, we must acknowledge that, as a general
rule, they did resist temptation, and preferred death to what they
considered impurity.
Many who feared that they might give way in a moment of weakness to
the temptations of a corrupt nature, sought relief in suicide, which
was called the _endura_. There were two forms for the sick heretic,
suffocation and fasting. The candidate for death was asked whether he
desired to be a martyr or a confessor. If he chose to be a martyr,
they placed a handkerchief or a pillow over his mouth, until he died
of suffocation. If he preferred to be a confessor, he remained
without food or drink, until he died of starvation.
The Cathari believed that "the Believers," who asked for the
_consolamentum_ during sickness, would not keep the laws of their new
faith, if they happened to get well. Therefore, to safeguard them
against apostasy, they were strongly urged to make their salvation
certain by the _endura_. A manuscript of the Register of the
Inquisition of Carcassonne, for instance, tells us of a Catharan
minister who compelled a sick woman to undergo the _endura_, after he
had conferred upon her the Holy Spirit. He forbade any one "to give
her the least nourishment"... and as a matter of fact no food or
drink was given her that night or the following day, lest perchance
she might be deprived of the benefit of the _consolamentum_.
One of "the Perfected," named Raymond Belhot, congratulated a mother
whose daughter he had just "consoled," and ordered her not to give
the sick girl anything to eat or drink until he returned, even though
she requested it. "If she asks me for it," said the mother, "I will
not have the heart to refuse her." "You must refuse her," said "the
good man," "or else cause great injury to her soul." From that moment
the girl neither ate nor drank; in fact she did not ask for any
nourishment. She died the next Saturday.
About the middle of the thirteenth century, when the Cathari began to
give the consolamentum to infants, they were often cruel enough to
make them undergo the _endura_. "One would think," says an historian
of the time, "that the world had gone back to those hateful days when
unnatural mothers sacrificed their children to Moloch."
It sometimes happened that the parents of "the consoled" withstood
more or less openly the cruelty of "the Perfected."
When this happened, some of "the Perfected" remained in the house of
the sick person, to see that their murderous prescriptions were
obeyed to the letter. Or if this was impossible, they had "the
consoled" taken to the house of some friend, where they could readily
carry out their policy of starvation.
But as a general rule the "heretics" submitted to the _endura_ of
their own free will. Raymond Isaure tells us of a certain Guillaume
Sabatier who began the _endura_ in a retired villa, immediately after
his initiation; he starved himself to death in seven weeks. A woman
named Gentilis died of the _endura_ in six or seven days. A woman of
Coustaussa, who had separated from her husband, went to Saverdum to
receive the _consolamentum_. She at once began the _endura_ at Ax,
and died after an absolute fast of about twelve weeks. A certain
woman named Montaliva submitted to the _endura_; during it "she ate
nothing whatever, but drank some water; she died in six weeks."[1]
This case gives us some idea of this terrible practice; we see that
they were sometimes allowed to drink water, which explains the
extraordinary duration of some of these suicidal fasts.
[1] Ms. 609, of the library of Toulouse, fol. 28.
Some of the Cathari committed suicide in other ways. A woman of
Toulouse named Guillemette first began to subject herself to the
_endura_ by frequent blood letting; then she tried to weaken herself
more by taking long baths; finally she drank poison, and as death did
not come quickly enough, she swallowed pounded glass to perforate her
intestines.[1] Another woman opened her veins in the bath.2
[1] Ms. 609, of Toulouse, fol. 33.
[2] Ibid., fol. 70.
Such methods of suicide were exceptional, although the _endura_
itself was common, at least among the Cathari of Languedoc. "Every
one," says a trustworthy historian, "who reads the acts of the
tribunals of the Inquisition of Toulouse and Carcassonne must admit
that the _endura_, voluntary or forced, put to death more victims
than the stake or the Inquisition."
Catharism, therefore, was a serious menace to the Church, to the
State, and to society.
Without being precisely a Christian heresy, its customs, its
hierarchy, and above all its rites of initiation--which we have
purposely explained in detail--gave it all the appearance of one. It
was really an imitation and a caricature of Christianity. Some of its
practices were borrowed from the primitive Christians, as some
historians have proved.[1] That in itself would justify the Church in
treating its followers as heretics.
[1] Jean Guirard, _Le consolamentum ou initiation cathare_, in
_Questions d'histoire_, p. 145 seq.
Besides, the Church merely acted in self-defense. The Cathari tried
their best to destroy her by attacking her doctrines, her hierarchy,
and her apostolic character. If their false teachings had prevailed,
disturbing as they did the minds of the people, the Church would have
perished.
The princes, who did not concern themselves with these heretics while
they merely denied the teachings of the Church, at last found
themselves attacked just as vigorously. The Catharan absolute
rejection of the oath of fealty was calculated to break the bond that
united subjects to their suzerain lords, and at one blow to destroy
the whole edifice of feudalism. And even granting that the feudal
system could cease to exist without dragging down in its fall all
form of government, how could the State provide for the public
welfare, if she did not possess the power to punish criminals, as the
Cathari maintained?
But the great unpardonable crime of Catharism was its attempt to
destroy the future of humanity by its _endura_, and its abolition of
marriage. It taught that the sooner life was destroyed the better.
Suicide, instead of being considered a crime, was a means of
perfection. To beget children was considered the height of
immorality. To become one of "the Perfected," which was the only way
of salvation, the husband must leave his wife, and the wife her
husband. The family must cease to exist, and all men were urged to
form a great religious community, vowed to the most rigorous
chastity. If this ideal had been realized, the human race would have
disappeared from the earth in a few years. Can any one imagine more
immoral and more anti-social teaching?
The Catholic Church has been accused of setting up a similar ideal.
This is a gross calumny. For while Catharism made chastity a _sine
qua non_ of salvation, and denounced marriage as something infamous
and criminal, the Church merely counsels virginity to an élite body
of men and women in whom she recognizes the marks of a special
vocation, according to the teaching of the Savior, "He that can take,
let him take it." _Qui potest capiare capiat_.[1] She endeavors at
the same time to uphold the sacrament of marriage, declaring it a
holy state, in which the majority of mankind is to work out its
salvation.
[1] Matt. xix. 11, 12.
There is consequently no parity whatever between the two societies
and their teachings. In bitterly prosecuting the Cathari, the Church
truly acted for the public good. The State was bound to aid her by
force, unless it wished to perish herself with all the social order.
This explains and to a certain degree Justifies the combined action
of Church and State in suppressing the Catharan heresy.
CHAPTER VI
FIFTH PERIOD
GREGORY IX AND FREDERIC II
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE MONASTIC INQUISITION
THE penal system codified by Innocent III was rather liberally
interpreted in France and Italy. In order to make the French law
agree with it, an oath was added to the coronation service from the
time of Louis IX, whereby the King swore to exterminate, i.e., banish
all heretics from his kingdom. We are inclined to interpret in this
sense the laws of Louis VIII (1226) and Louis IX (April, 1228), for
the south of France. The words referring to the punishment of
heretics are a little vague: "Let them be punished," says Louis VIII,
"with the punishment they deserve." "_Animadversione debita
puniantur_. The other penalties specified are infamy and
confiscation; in a word, all the consequences of banishment."[1]
[1] _Ordonnances des roys de France_, vol. xii, pp. 319, 320.
Louis IX re-enacted this law in the following terms: "We decree that
our barons and magistrates ... do their duty in prosecuting
heretics." "_De ipsis festinanter faciant quod debebunt_."[1] These
words in themselves are not very clear, and, if we were to interpret
them by the customs of a few years later, we might think that they
referred to the death penalty, even the stake; but comparing them
with similar expressions used by Lucius III and Innocent III, we see
that they imply merely the penalty of banishment.
[2] Ibid., vol. i, p. 51; Labbe, _Concilia_, vol. vii, col. 171.
However, a canon of the Council of Toulouse in 1229 seems to make the
meaning of these words clear, at least for the future. It decreed
that all heretics and their abettors are to be brought to the nobles
and the magistrates to receive due punishment, _ut animadversione
debita puniantur_. But it adds that "heretics, who, _through fear of
death_ or any other cause, except their own free will, return to the
faith, are to be imprisoned by the bishop of the city to do penance,
that they may not corrupt others;" the bishop is to provide for their
needs out of the property confiscated.[1] The fear of death here
seems to imply that the _animadversione debita_ meant the death
penalty. That would prove the elasticity of the formula. At first it
was a legal penalty which custom interpreted to mean banishment and
confiscation; later on it meant chiefly the death penalty; and
finally it meant solely the penalty of the stake. At any rate, this
canon of the Council of Toulouse must be kept in mind; for we will
soon see Pope Gregory IX quoting it.
[1] D'Achery, _Spicilegium_, in-fol., vol. i, p. 711.
In Italy, Frederic II promulgated on November 22, 1220, an imperial
law which, in accordance with the pontifical decree of March 25,
1199, and the Lateran Council of 1215, condemned heretics to every
form of banishment, to perpetual infamy, together with the
confiscation of their property, and the annulment of all their civil
acts and powers. It is evident that the emperor was influenced by
Innocent III, for, having declared that the children of heretics
could not inherit their father's property, he adds a phrase borrowed
from the papal decree of 1199, viz., "that to offend the divine
majesty was a far greater crime than to offend the majesty of the
emperor."[1]
[1] _Monum. Germaniæ, Leges_, sect. iv, vol. ii, pp. 107-109.
This at once put heresy on a par with treason, and consequently
called for a severer punishment than the law actually decreed. We
will soon see others draw the logical conclusion from the emperor's
comparison, and enact the death penalty for heresy.
The legates of Pope Honorius were empowered to introduce the
canonical and imperial legislation into the statutes of the Italian
cities, which hitherto had not been at all anxious to take any
measures whatever against heretics. They succeeded in Bergamo,
Piacenza, and Mantua in 1221; and in Brescia in 1225. In 1226, the
emperor himself ordered the podestà of Pavia to banish all heretics
from the city limits. About the year 1230, therefore, it was the
generally accepted law throughout all Italy (recall what we have said
above about Faenza, Florence, etc.) to banish all heretics,
confiscate their property, and demolish their houses.
Two years had hardly elapsed when, through the joint efforts of
Frederic II and Gregory IX, the death penalty of the stake was
substituted for banishment; Guala, a Dominican, seems to leave been
the prime mover in bringing about this change.
Frederic II, influenced by the jurists who were reviving the old
Roman law, prolmulgated a law for Lombardy in 1224, which condemned
heretics to the stake, or at least to have their tongues cut out.[1]
This penalty of the stake was common--if not legal--in Germany. For
instance, we read of the people of Strasburg burning about eighty
heretics about the year 1212[2], and we could easily cite other
similar executions.[3] The emperor, therefore, merely brought the use
of the stake from Germany into Italy. Indeed it is very doubtful
whether this law was in operation before 1230.
[1] A Constitution sent to the Archbishop of Magdeburg, in the _Mon.
Germ., Leges_, sect. iv, vol. ii, p. 126. [2] _Annales Marbacenses_,
ad ann. 1215, in the _Mon. Germ. SS_., vol. xvii, p. 174. . [3] Cf.
Julien Havet, op. cit., pp. 143, 144.
But in that year, Guala, the Dominican, who had become Bishop of
Brescia, used his authority to enact for his episcopal city the most
severe laws against heresy. The podestà of the city had to swear that
he would prosecute heretics as Manicheans and traitors, according to
both the canon and the civil law, especially in view of Frederic's
law of 1224. Innocent III's comparison between heretics and traitors,
and between the Cathari and the Manicheans, now bore fruit. Traitors
deserved the death penalty, while the old Roman law sent the
Manicheans to the stake; accordingly Guala maintained that all
heretics deserved the stake.
Pope Gregory IX adopted this stern attitude, probably under the
influence of the Bishop of Brescia, with whom he was in frequent
correspondence.[1] The imperial law of 1224 was inscribed in 1230 or
1231 upon the papal register, where it figures as number 103 of the
fourth year of Gregory's pontificate. The Pope then tried to enforce
it, beginning with the city of Rome. He enacted a law in February,
1231, ordering, as the Council of Toulouse had done in 1229, heretics
condemned by the Church to be handed over to the secular arm, to
receive the punishment they deserved, _animadversio debita_. All who
abjured and accepted a fitting penance were to be imprisoned for
life, without prejudice to the other penalties for heresy, such as
confiscation.[2]
[1] Gregory IX was four years Pope before he enacted these new laws.
[2] Cap. ii, _Mon. Germ., Leges_, sect. iv, vol. ii, p. 196.
About the same time, Annibale, the Senator of Rome, established the
new jurisprudence of the Church in the eternal city. Every year, on
taking office, the Senator was to banish (_diffidare_) all heretics.
All who refused to leave the city were, eight days after their
condemnation, to receive the punishment they deserved. The penalty,
_animadversio debita_, is not specified, as if every one knew what
was meant.
Inasmuch as reluctant heretics were imprisoned for life, it seems
certain that the severer penalty reserved for obstinate heretics must
have been the death penalty of the stake, for that was the mode of
punishment decreed by the imperial law of 1224, which had just been
copied on the registers of the papal chancery. But we are not left to
mere conjecture. In February, 1231, a number of Patarins were
arrested in Rome; those who refused to abjure were sent to the stake,
while those who did abjure were sent to Monte Cassino and Cava to do
penance. This case tells us instantly how we are to interpret the
_animadversio debita_ of contemporary documents.
Frederic II exercised an undeniable influence over Gregory IX, and
the Pope in turn influenced the emperor. Gregory wrote denouncing the
many heretics who swarmed throughout the kingdom of Sicily (the two
Sicilies), especially in Naples and Aversa, urging him to prosecute
them with vigor. Frederic obeyed. He was then preparing his Sicilian
Code, which appeared at Amalfi in August, 1231. The first law,
_Inconsutilem tunicam_, was against heretics. The emperor did not
have to consult any one about the penalty to be decreed against
heresy; he had merely to copy his own law, enacted in Lombardy in
1224. This new law declared heresy a crime against society on a par
with treason, and liable to the same penalty. And that the law might
not be a dead letter for lack of accusers, the state officials were
commanded to prosecute it just as they would any other crime. This
was in reality the beginning of the Inquisition. All suspects were to
be tried by an ecclesiastical tribunal, and if, being declared
guilty, they refuse to abjure, they were to be burned in the presence
of the people.[1]
[1] _Constitut. Sicil_., i, 3, in Eymeric, _Directorium
inquisitorum_, Appendix, p. 14.
Once started on the road to severity, Frederic II did not stop. To
aid Gregory IX in suppressing heresy, he enacted at Ravenna, in 1237,
an imperial law condemning all heretics to death.[1] The kind of
death was not indicated. But every one knew that the common German
custom of burning heretics at the stake had now become the law. For
by three previous laws, May 14, 1238, June 26, 1238, and February 22,
1239, the emperor had declared that the Sicilian Code and the law of
Ravenna were binding upon all his subjects; the law of June 26, 1238,
merely promulgated these other laws throughout the kingdom of Arles
and Vienne. Henceforth all uncertainty was at an end. The legal
punishment for heretics throughout the empire was death at the stake.
[1] _Mon. Germ., Leges_, sect. iv, vol. ii, pp. 196.
Gregory IX did not wait for these laws to be enacted to carry out his
intentions.
As early as 1231 he tried to have the cities of Italy and Germany
adopt the civil and canonical laws in vogue at Rome against heresy,
and he was the first to inaugurate that particular method of
prosecution, the permanent tribunal of the Inquisition.
We possess some of the letters which he wrote in June, 1231, urging
the bishops and archbishops to further his plans. He did not meet
with much success, however, although the Dominicans and the Friars
Minor did their best to help him. Still some cities like Milan,
Verona, Piacenza and Vercelli adopted the measures of persecution
which he proposed. At Milan, Peter of Verona, a Dominican, on
September 15, 1233, had the laws of the Pope and the Senator of Rome
inscribed in the city's statutes. The _animadversio debita_ was
henceforth interpreted to mean the penalty of the stake. "In this
year," writes a chronicler of the time, "the people of Milan began to
burn heretics." In the month of July, sixty heretics were sent to the
stake at Verona. The podestà of Piacenza sent to the Pope the
heretics he had arrested. Vercelli, at the instance of the
Franciscan, Henry of Milan, incorporated in 1233 into its statutes
the law of the Senator of Rome and the imperial law of 1224; it,
however, omitted in the last named law the clause which decreed the
penalty of cutting out the tongue. In Germany, the Dominican, Conrad
of Marburg, was particularly active, in virtue of his commission from
Gregory IX. In accordance with the imperial law, we find him
sentencing to the stake a great number of heretics.
It may be admitted, however, that in his excessive zeal he even went
beyond the desires of the sovereign pontiff. Gregory IX did not find
everywhere so marked an eagerness to carry out his wishes. A number
of the cities of Italy for a long time continued to punish obstinate
heretics according to the penal code of Innocent III, i.e., by
banishment and confiscation.
That the penalty of the stake was used at this time in France is
proved by the burning of one hundred and eighty-three Bulgarians or
Bugres at Mont-Wimer in 1239 and by two important documents, the
_Établissements de Saint Louis_ and the _Coutumes de Beauvaisis_.
"As soon as the ecclesiastical judge has discovered, after due
examination, that the suspect is a heretic, he must hand him over to
the secular arm; and the secular judge must send him to the
stake."[1] Beaumanoir says the same thing: "In such a case, the
secular court must aid the Church; for when the Church condemns any
one as a heretic, she is obliged to hand him over to the secular arm
to be sent to the stake; for she herself cannot put any one to
death."[2]
[1] _Établissements de Saint Louis_, ch. cxxiii.
[2] _Coutumes de Beauvaisis_, xi, 2; cf. xxx, 11, ed. Beugnot, vol.
i, pp. 157, 413.
It is a question whether this legislation is merely the codification
of the custom introduced by popular uprisings against heresy and by
certain royal decrees, or whether it owes its origin to the law of
Frederic II which Gregory IX tried to enforce in France, as he had
done in Germany and Italy. This second hypothesis is hardly probable.
The tribunals of the Inquisition did not have to import into France
the penalty of the stake; they found it already established in both
central and northern France.
In fact, Gregory IX urged everywhere the enforcement of the existing
laws against heresy, and where none existed he introduced a very
severe system of prosecution. He was the first, moreover, to
establish an extraordinary and permanent tribunal for heresy
trials--an institution which afterwards became known as the monastic
Inquisition.
. . . . . . . .
The prosecution and the punishment of heretics in every diocese was
one of the chief duties of the bishops, the natural defenders of
orthodoxy. While heresy appeared at occasional intervals, they had
little or no difficulty in fulfilling their duty. But when the
Cathari and the Patazins had sprung up everywhere, especially in
southern Italy and France and northern Spain, the secrecy of their
movements made the task of the bishop extremely hard and complicated.
Rome soon perceived that they were not very zealous in prosecuting
heresy. To put an end to this neglect, Lucius III, jointly with the
Emperor Frederic Barbarossa and the bishops of his court, enacted a
decretal at Verona in 1184, regulating the _episcopal inquisition_.
All bishops and archbishops were commanded to visit personally once
or twice a year, or to empower their archdeacons or other clerics to
visit, every parish in which heresy was thought to exist. They were
to compel two or three trustworthy men, or, if need be, all the
inhabitants of the city, to swear that they would denounce every
suspect who attended secret assemblies, or whose manner of living
differed from that of the ordinary Catholic. After the bishop had
questioned all who had been brought before his tribunal, he was
empowered to punish them as he deemed fit, unless the accused
succeeded in establishing their innocence. All who superstitiously
refused to take the required oath (we have seen how the Cathari
considered it criminal to take an oath) were to be condemned and
punished as heretics, and if they refused to abjure they were handed
over to the secular arm.[1] This was an attempt to recall the bishops
to a sense of their duty. The Lateran Council of 1215 re-enacted the
laws of Lucius III; and to ensure their enforcement it decreed that
every bishop who neglected his duty should be deposed, and another
consecrated in his place.[2] The Council of Narbonne in 1227 likewise
ordered the bishop to appoint synodal witnesses (_testes synodales_)
in every parish to prosecute heretics.[3] But all these decrees,
although properly countersigned and placed in the archives, remained
practically a dead letter. In the first place it was very difficult
to obtain the synodal witnesses. And again, as a contemporary bishop,
Lunas de Tuy, assures us, the bishops for the most part were not at
all anxious to prosecute heresy. When reproached for their inaction
they replied: "How can we condemn those who are neither convicted nor
confessed?"[4]
[1] Lucius III, Ep. clxxl, Migne, P.L., vol. cci, col. 1297 and seq.
[2] The Bull _Excommunicamus_, Decretals, cap. xiii, in fine, _De
hæreticis_, lib. v, tit. vii.
[3] Can. 14, Labbe, _Concilia_, vol. xi, pars i, col. 307, 308.
[4] Lucas Tudensis, _De altera vita fideique controversiis adversus
Albigensium errores_, cap. xix, in the _Bibliotheca Patrum_, 4 ed.
vol. iv, col. 575-714. Lucas was Bishop of Tuy in Galicia, from 1239
to 1249.
The Popes, as the rulers of Christendom, tried to make up for the
indifference of the bishops by sending their legates to hunt for the
Cathari in their most hidden retreats. But they soon realized that
this legatine inquisition was ineffective.[1]
[1] Cf. Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 315 and seq.
"Bishop and legate," writes Lea, "were alike unequal to the task of
discovering those who carefully shrouded themselves under the cloak
of the most orthodox observance; and when by chance a nest of
heretics was brought to light, the learning and skill of the average
Ordinary failed to elicit a confession from those who professed the
most entire accord with the teachings of Rome. In the absence of
overt acts, it was difficult to reach the secret thoughts of the
sectary. Trained experts were needed whose sole business it should be
to unearth the offenders, and extort a confession of their guilt."
At an opportune moment, therefore, two mendicant orders, the
Dominicans and the Franciscans, were instituted to meet the new needs
of the Church. Both orders devoted themselves to preaching; the
Dominicans were especially learned in the ecclesiastical sciences,
i.e., canon law and theology.
"The establishment of these orders," continues Lea, "seemed a
providential interposition to supply the Church of Christ with what
it most sorely needed. As the necessity grew apparent of special and
permanent tribunals, devoted exclusively to the widespread sin of
heresy, there was every reason why they should be wholly free from
the local jealousies and enmities which might tend to the prejudice
of the innocent, or the local favoritism which might connive at the
escape of the guilty. If, in addition to this freedom from local
partialities, the examiners and judges were men specially trained to
the detection and conversion of the heretics; if also, they had by
irrevocable vows renounced the world; if they could acquire no
wealth, and were dead to the enticement of pleasure, every guarantee
seemed to be afforded that their momentous duties would be fulfilled
with the strictest justice--that while the purity of the faith would
be protected, there would be no unnecessary oppression or cruelty or
persecution dictated by private interests and personal revenge. Their
unlimited popularity was also a warrant that they would receive far
more efficient assistance in their arduous labors than could be
expected by the bishops, whose position was generally that of
antagonism to their flocks, and to the petty seigneurs and powerful
barons whose aid was indispensable."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., pp. 318, 319.
Gregory IX fully understood the help that the Dominicans and
Franciscans could render him as agents of the Inquisition throughout
Christendom.
It is probable that, the Senator of Rome refers to them in his oath
in 1231, when he speaks of the _Inquisitores datos ab Ecclesia_.[1]
Frederic II, in his law of 1232, also mentions the _Inquisitores ab
apostolica sede datos.[2] The Dominican Albéric traveled through
Lombardy in November, 1232, with the title of _Inquisitor hereticæ
pravitatis.[3] In 1231 a similar commission was entrusted to the
Dominicans of Freisach and to the famous Conrad of Marburg. Finally,
to quote but one more instance, Gregory IX, in 1233, wrote an
eloquent letter to the bishops of southern France in which he said:
"We, seeing you engrossed in the whirlwind of cares, and scarce able
to breathe in the pressure of overwhelming anxieties, think it well
to divide your burdens, that they may be more easily borne. We have
therefore determined to send preaching friars against the heretics of
France and the adjoining provinces, and we beg, warn, and exhort you,
ordering you, as you reverence the Holy See, to receive them kindly,
and to treat them well, giving them in this as in all else, favor,
counsel, and aid, that they may fulfill their office."
[1] Raynaldi, _Annales_, ad ann. 1231, sect. 16, 17.
[2] Cap. iii, in the _Mon. Germ., Leges_, sect. iv, vol. ii, p. 196.
[3] Potthast, _Regesta Roman. Pontif_., no. 904, 1.
Their duties are outlined in a letter of Gregory IX to Conrad of
Marburg, October 11, 1231: "When you arrive in a city, summon the
bishops, clergy and people, and preach a solemn sermon on faith; then
select certain men of good repute to help you in trying the heretics
and suspects denounced before your tribunal. All who on examination
are found guilty or suspected of heresy must promise to absolutely
obey the commands of the Church; if they refuse, you must prosecute
them, according to the statutes which we have recently promulgated."
We have in these instructions all the procedure of the Inquisition:
the time of grace; the call for witnesses and their testimony; the
Interrogation of the Accused; the reconciliation of repentant
heretics; the condemnation of obdurate heretics.
Each detail of this procedure calls for a few words of explanation.
The Inquisitor first summoned every heretic of the city to appear
before him within a certain fixed time, which as a rule did not
exceed thirty days. This period was called "the time of grace"
(tempus gratiæ). The heretics who abjured during this period were
treated with leniency. If secret heretics, they were dismissed with
only a slight secret penance; if public heretics, they were exempted
from the penalties of death and life imprisonment, and sentenced
either to make a short pilgrimage, or to undergo one of the ordinary
canonical penances.
If the heretics failed to come forward of their own accord, they were
to be denounced by the Catholic people. At first the number of
witnesses required to make an accusation valid was not determined;
later on two were declared necessary. In the beginning, the
Inquisition could only accept the testimony of men and women of good
repute; and the Church for a long time maintained that no one should
be admitted as an accuser who was a heretic, was excommunicated, a
homicide, a thief, a sorcerer, a diviner, or the bearer of false
witness. But her hatred of heresy led her later on to set aside this
law, when the faith was in question. As early as the twelfth century,
Gratian had declared that the testimony of infamous and heretical
witnesses might be accepted in trials for heresy.[1]
[1] Pars ii, _Causa_ ii, quaest. vii, cap. xxii; _Causa_ vi, quaest.
i, cap. xix.
The edicts of Frederic II declared that heretics could not testify in
the courts, but this disability was removed when they were called
upon to testify against other suspects.[1] In the beginning, the
Inquisitors were loath to accept such testimony. But in 1261
Alexander IV assured them that it was lawful to do so.[2] Henceforth
the testimony of a heretic was considered valid, although it was
always left to the discretion of the Inquisition to reject it at
will. This principle was finally incorporated into the canon law, and
was enforced by constant practice. All legal exceptions were
henceforth declared inoperative except that of moral enmity.[3]
[1] _Historia diplomatica Frederici II_, vol. iv, pp. 299, 300.
[2] Bull _Consuluit_, of January 23, 1261, in Eymeric, _Directorium
inquisitorum_, Appendix, p. 40.
[3] Eymeric, ibid., 3a pars, quæst. lxvii, pp. 606, 607. Pegna,
ibid., pp. 607, 609, declares that great cruelty or even insulting
words--e.g., to call a man _cornutus_ or a woman _meretrix_--might
come under the head of enmity, and invalidate a man's testimony.
Witnesses for the defence rarely presented themselves. Very seldom do
we come across any mention of them. This is readily understood, for
they would almost inevitably have been suspected as accomplices and
abettors of heresy. For the same reason, the accused were practically
denied the help of counsel. Innocent III had forbidden advocates and
scriveners to lend aid or counsel to heretics and their abettors.[1]
This prohibition, which in the mind of the Pope was intended only for
defiant and acknowledged heretics, was gradually extended to every
suspect who was striving to prove his innocence.[2]
[1] Decretals, cap. xi, _De hæreticis_, lib.. v, tit. vii.
[2] Eymeric, _Directorium inquisitorum_, 3a pars, quaest. xxxix, p.
565; cf. 446. Sometimes, however, the accused was granted counsel,
but _juxta juris formam ac stylum et usum officii Inquisitionis_; cf.
Vidal, _Le tribunal d'Inquisition_, in the _Annales de Saint Louis
des Français_, vol. ix (1905), p. 299, note. Eymeric himself grants
one (_Directorium_, pp. 451-453). But this lawyer was merely to
persuade his client to confess his heresy; he was rather the lawyer
of the court than of the accused. Vidal, op. cit., pp. 302, 303.
Pegna, however, says (in Eymeric _Directorium_, 2a pars, ch. xi,
Comm. 10) that in his time the accused was allowed counsel, if he
were only suspected of heresy. Cf. Tanon, op. cit., pp. 400, 401.
Heretics or suspects, therefore, denounced to the Inquisition
generally found themselves without counsel before their judges.
They personally had to answer the various charges of the indictment
(_capitula_) made against them. It certainly would have been a great
help to them, to have known 'the names of their accusers. But the
fear--well-founded it was true[1]--that the accused or their friends
would revenge themselves on their accusers, induced the Inquisitors
to withhold the names of the witnesses.[2] The only way in which the
prisoner could invalidate the testimony against him was to name all
his mortal enemies. If his accusers happened to be among them, their
testimony was thrown out of court.[3] But otherwise, he was obliged
to prove the falsity of the accusations against him--a practically
impossible undertaking. For if two witnesses, considered of good
repute by the Inquisitor, agreed in accusing the prisoner, his fate
was at once settled; whether he confessed or not, he was declared a
heretic.
[1] Guillem Pelhisse tells us that the Cathari sometimes killed those
who had denounced their brethren. _Chronique_, ed. Douai, p. 90. A
certain Arnold Dominici, who had denounced seven heretics, was killed
at night in his bed by "the Believers." _Ibid._, pp. 98, 99.
[2] Eymeric, _Directorium_, 3a pars, q. 72. The law on this point
varied from time to time. When Boniface VIII incorporated into the
canon law the rule of withholding the names of witnesses, he
expressly said that they might be produced, if there was no danger in
doing so. Cap. 20, Sexto v, 2.
[3] Eymeric, _Directorium_, 3a pars, _De defensionibus reorum_, p.
446 and seq.
After the prisoner had been found guilty, he could choose one of two
things; he could abjure his heresy and manifest his repentance by
accepting the penance imposed by his judge, or he could obstinately
persist either in his denial or profession of heresy, accepting
resolutely all the consequences of such an attitude.
If the heretic abjured he knelt before the Inquisitor as a penitent
before his confessor. He had no reason to fear his judge. For,
properly speaking, he did not inflict punishment.
"The mission of the Inquisition," writes Lea, "was to save men's
souls; to recall them to the way of salvation, and to assign salutary
penance to those who sought it, like a father-confessor with his
penitent. Its sentences, therefore, were not like those of an earthly
judge, the retaliation of society on the wrongdoer, or deterrent
examples to prevent the spread of crime; they were simply imposed for
the benefit of the erring soul, to wash away its sin. The Inquisitors
themselves habitually speak of their ministrations in this sense."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., p. 459.
But "the sin of heresy was too grave to be expiated simply by
contrition and amendment."[1] The Inquisitor, therefore, pointed out
other means of expiation: "The penances customarily imposed by the
Inquisition were comparatively few in number. They consisted,
firstly, of pious observances--recitation of prayers, frequenting of
churches, the discipline, fasting, pilgrimages, and fines nominally
for pious uses,--such as a confessor might impose on his ordinary
penitents." These were for offences of trifling import. "Next in
grade are the _poenae confusibiles_,--the humiliating and degrading
penances, of which the most important was the wearing of yellow
crosses sewed upon the garments; and, finally, the severest
punishment among those strictly within the competence of the Holy
Office, the _murus_ or prison."[2]
[1] Lea, ibid., p. 463.
[2] Lea, ibid., p. 462.
If the heretic refused to abjure, his obduracy put an end to the
judge's leniency, and withdrew him at once from his jurisdiction.
"The Inquisitor never condemned to death, but merely withdrew the
protection of the Church from the hardened and impenitent sinner who
afforded no hope of conversion, or from him who showed by relapse
that there was no trust to be placed in his pretended repentance."[1]
[1] Lea, ibid., p. 460.
It was at this juncture that the State intervened. The ecclesiastical
judge handed over the heretic to the secular arm, which simply
enforced the legal penalty of the stake. However, the law allowed the
heretic to abjure even at the foot of the stake; in that case his
sentence was commuted to life imprisonment.
It is hard to conceive of a greater responsibility than that of a
mediæval Inquisitor. The life or death of the heretic was practically
at his disposal. The Church, therefore, required him to possess in a
pre-eminent degree the qualities of an impartial judge. Bernard Gui,
the most experienced Inquisitor of his time (1308-1323), thus paints
for us the portrait of the ideal Inquisitor: "He should be diligent
and fervent in his zeal for religious truth, for the salvation of
souls, and for the destruction of heresy. He should always be calm in
times of trial and difficulty, and never give way to outbursts of
anger or temper. He should be a brave man, ready to face death if
necessary, but while never cowardly running from danger, he should
never be foolhardy rushing into it. He should be unmoved by the
entreaties or the bribes of those who appear before his tribunal;
still he must not harden his heart to the point of refusing to delay
or mitigate punishment, as circumstances may require from time to
time.
"In doubtful cases, he should be very careful not to believe too
easily what may appear probable, and yet in reality is false; nor, on
the other hand, should he stubbornly refuse to believe what may
appear improbable, and yet is frequently true. He should zealously
discuss and examine every case, so as to be sure to make a just
decision.... Let the love of truth and mercy, the special qualities
of every good judge, shine in his countenance, and let his sentences
never be prompted by avarice or cruelty."[1]
[1] _Practica Inquisitionis_, pars 6a, ed. Douais, 1886, pp. 231-233.
This portrait corresponds to the idea that Gregory IX had of the true
Inquisitor. In the instructions which he gave to the terrible Conrad
of Marburg, October 21, 1223, he took good care to warn him to be
prudent as well as zealous: "Punish if you will," he said, "the
wicked and perverse, but see that no innocent person suffers a your
hands:" _ut puniatur sic temeritas perversorum, quod innocentiæ
puritas non lædatur_. Gregory IX cannot be accused of injustice, but
he will ever be remembered as the Pope who established the
Inquisition as a permanent tribunal, and did his utmost to enforce
everywhere the death penalty for heresy.
This Pope was, in certain respects, a very slave to the letter of the
law. The protests of St. Augustine and many other early Fathers did
not affect him in the least. In the beginning, while he was legate,
he merely insisted upon the enforcement of the penal code of Innocent
III, which did not decree any punishment severer than banishment, but
he soon began to regard heresy as a crime similar to treason, and
therefore subject to the same penalty, death. Certain ecclesiastics
of his court with extremely logical minds, and rulers like Pedro II
of Aragon and Frederic II, had reached the same conclusion, even
before he did. Finally, in the fourth year of his pontificate, and
undoubtedly after mature deliberation, he decided to compel the
princes and the podestà to enforce the law condemning heretics to the
stake.
He did his utmost to bring this about. He did not forget, however,
that the Church could not concern herself in sentences of death. In
fact, his law of 1231 decrees that: "Heretics condemned by the Church
are to be handed over to the secular courts to receive due punishment
(_animadversio debita_)."[1] The emperor Frederic II had the same
notion of the distinction between the two powers. His law of 1224
points out carefully that heretics convicted by an ecclesiastical
trial are to be burned in the name of the civil authority:
_auctoritate nostra ignis judicio concremandus_.[2] The imperial law
of 1232 likewise declares that heretics condemned by the Church are
to be brought before a secular tribunal to receive the punishment
they deserve.[3] This explains why Gregory IX did not believe that in
handing over heretics to the secular arm he participated directly or
indirectly in a death sentence.[4] The tribunals of the Inquisition
which he established in no way modified this concept of
ecclesiastical justice. The Papacy, the guardian of orthodoxy for the
universal Church, simply found that the Dominicans and the
Franciscans were more docile instruments than the episcopate for the
suppresion of heresy. But whether the Inquisition was under the
direction of the bishops or the monks, it could have been conducted
on the same lines.
[1] _Decretales_, cap. xv, _De Hæreticis_, lib. v, tit. vii.
[2] _Mon. Germ., Leges_, sect. iv, vol. ii, p. 126.
[3] Ibid., p. 196.
[4] Lea writes (op. cit., vol. i, p. 536, note): "Gregory IX had no
scruple in asserting the duty of the Church to shed the blood of
heretics." In a brief of 1234 to the Archbishop of Sens, he says:
_Nec enim decuit Apostolicam Sedem, in oculis suis cum Madianita
coeunte Judæo, manum suam a sanguine prohibere, ne si secus ageret
non custodire populum Israel ... videretur_. Ripoll, i, 66. This is
certainly a serious charge, but the citation he gives implies
something altogether different. Lea has been deceived himself, and in
turn has misled his readers, by a comparison which he mistook for a
doctrinal document. The context, we think, clearly shows that the
Pope was making a comparison between the Holy See and the Jewish
leader Phinees, who had slain an Israelite and a harlot of Madian, in
the very act of their crime (Num. xxv. 6, 7). That does not imply
that the Church use the same weapons. Even if the comparison is not a
very happy one, still we must not exaggerate its import. The Pope's
letter did not even mention the execution of heretics. Ripoll,
_Bullarium ord. FF. Prædicatorum_, vol. 1, p. 66.
But, as a matter of fact, it unfortunately changed completely under
the direction of the monks. The change effected by them in the
ecclesiastical procedure resulted wholly to the detriment of the
accused. The safeguards for their defense were in part done away
with. A pretense was made to satisfy the demands of justice by
requiring that the Inquisitors be prudent and impartial judges. But
this made everything depend upon individuals, whereas the law itself
should have been just and impartial. In this respect, the criminal
procedure of the Inquisition is markedly inferior to the criminal
procedure of the Middle Ages.
CHAPTER VI
SIXTH PERIOD
DEVELOPMENT OF THE INQUISITION
INNOCENT IV AND THE USE OF TORTURE
The successors of Gregory IX were not long in perceiving certain
defects in the system of the Inquisition. They tried their best to
remedy them, although their efforts were not always directed with the
view of mitigating its rigor. We will indicate briefly their various
decrees pertaining to the tribunals, the penalties and the procedure
of the Inquisition.
In appointing the Dominicans and the Franciscans to suppress heresy,
Gregory IX did not dream of abolishing the episcopal Inquisition.
This was still occasionally carried on with its rival, whose
procedure it finally adopted. Indeed no tribunal of the Inquisition
could operate in a diocese without the permission of the Bishop, whom
it was supposed to aid. But it was inevitable that the Inquisitors
would in time encroach upon the episcopal authority, and relying upon
their papal commission proceed to act as independent judges. This
abuse frequently attracted the attention of the Popes, who, after
some hesitation, finally settled the law on this point.
"If previous orders requiring it" (episcopal concurrence), writes
Lea, "had not been treated with contempt, Innocent IV would not have
been obliged, in 1254, to reiterate the instructions that no
condemnations to death or life imprisonment should be uttered without
consulting the Bishops; and in 1255 he enjoined Bishop and Inquisitor
to interpret in consultation any obscurities in the laws against
heresy, and to administer the lighter penalties of deprivation of
office and preferment. This recognition of episcopal jurisdiction was
annulled by Alexander IV, who, after some vacillation, in 1257
rendered the Inquisition independent by releasing it from the
necessity of consulting with the Bishops even in cases of obstinate
and confessed heretics, and this he repeated in 1260. Then there was
a reaction. In 1262, Urban IV, in an elaborate code of instructions,
formally revived the consultation in all cases involving the death
penalty or perpetual imprisonment; and this was repeated by Clement
IV in 1265. Either these instructions, however, were revoked in some
subsequent enactment, or they soon fell into desuetude, for in 1273,
Gregory X, after alluding to the action of Alexander IV in annulling
consultation, proceeds to direct that Inquisitors in deciding upon
sentences shall proceed in accordance with the counsel of the Bishops
or their delegates, so that the episcopal authority might share in
decisions of such moment."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., p. 335.
This decretal remained henceforth the law. But as the Inquisitors at
times seemed to act as if it did not exist, Boniface VIII and Clement
IV strengthened it by declaring null and void all grave sentences in
which the Bishop had not been consulted.[1] The consultation,
however, between the Bishop and Inquisitor could be conducted through
delegates. In insisting upon this, the Popes proved that they were
anxious to give the sentences of the Inquisition every possible
guarantee of perfect justice.
[1] _Sexto_, lib. v, tit. ii, cap. 17, _Per hoc_; Clementin. lib v.
tit. iii, cap. i, _Multorum querela_.
Another way in which the Popes labored to render the sentences of the
Inquisition just, was the institution of experts. As the questions
which arose before the tribunals in matters of heresy were often very
complex, "it was soon found requisite to associate with the
Inquisitors in the rendering of sentences men versed in the civil and
canon law, which had by this time become an intricate study,
requiring the devotion of a lifetime. Accordingly they were empowered
to call in experts to deliberate with them over the evidence, and
advise with them on the sentence to be rendered."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i. p. 388.
The official records of the sentences of the Inquisition frequently
mention the presence of these experts, _periti_ and _boni viri_.
Their number, which varied according to circumstances, was generally
large. At a consultation called by the Inquisitors in January, 1329,
at the Bishop's palace in Pamiers, there were thirty-five present,
nine of whom were jurisconsults; and at another in September, 1329,
there were fifty-one present, twenty of whom were civil lawyers.
"At a comparatively early date, the practice was adopted of allowing
a number of culprits to accumulate, whose fate was determined and
announced in a solemn _Sermo_ or _auto-da-fé_. In the final shape
which the assembly of counsellors assumed, we find it summoned to
meet on Fridays, the _Sermo_ always taking place on Sundays. When the
number of criminals was large, there was not much time for
deliberation in special cases. The assessors were always to be
jurists and Mendicant Friars, selected by the Inquisitor in such
numbers as he saw fit. They were severally sworn on the Gospels to
secrecy, and to give good and wise counsel, each one according to his
conscience, and to the knowledge vouchsafed him by God. The
Inquisitor then read over his summary of each case, sometimes
withholding the name of the accused, and they voted the sentence,
"Penance at the discretion of the Inquisitor"--"that person is to be
imprisoned, or abandoned to the secular arm"--while the Gospels lay
on the table to so that our judgment might come from the face of God,
and our eyes might see justice."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 389.
We have here the beginnings of our modern jury. As a rule, the
Inquisitors followed the advice of their counsellors, save when they
themselves favored a less severe sentence. The labor of these experts
was considerable, and often lasted several days. "A brief summary of
each case was submitted to them. Eymeric maintained that the whole
case ought to be submitted to them; and that was undoubtedly the
common practice. But Pegna, on the other hand, thought it was better
to withhold from the assessors the names of both the witnesses and
the prisoners. He declares that this was the common practice of the
Inquisition, at least as far as the names were concerned. This was
also the practice of the Inquisitors of southern France, as Bernard
Gui tells us. The majority of the counsellors received a brief
summary of the case, the names being withheld. Only a very few of
them were deemed worthy to read the full text of all the
interrogatories."[1]
[1] Tanon, op. cit., p. 421.
We can readily see how the _periti_ or _boni viri_, who were called
upon to decide the guilt or innocence of the accused from evidence
considered in the abstract, without any knowledge of the prisoners'
names or motives, could easily make mistakes. In fact, they did not
have data enough to enable them to decide a concrete case. For
tribunals are to judge criminals and not crimes, just as physicians
treat sick people and not diseases in the abstract. We know that the
same disease calls for a different treatment in different
individuals; in like manner a crime must be judged with due reference
to the mentality of the one Who has committed it. The Inquisition did
not seem to understand this.[1]
[1] Even in our day the jury is bound to decide on the merits of the
case submitted to it, without regarding the consequences of its
verdict. The foreman reminds the jurymen in advance that "they will
be false to their oath if, in giving their decision, they are biased
by the consideration of the punishment their verdict will entail upon
the prisoner."
The assembly of experts, therefore, instituted by the Popes did not
obtain the good results that were expected. But we must, at least, in
justice admit that the Popes did their utmost to protect the
tribunals of the Inquisition from the arbitrary action of individual
judges, by requiring the Inquisitors to consult both the _boni viri_
and the Bishops.
Over the various penalties of the Inquisition, the Popes likewise
exercised a supervision which was always just and at times most
kindly.
The greatest penalties which the Inquisition could inflict were life
imprisonment, and abandonment of the prisoner to the secular arm. It
is only with regard to the first of these penalties that we see the
clemency of both Popes and Councils. Any one who considers the rough
manners of this period, must admit that the Church did a great deal
to mitigate the excessive cruelty of the medieval prisons.
The Council of Toulouse, in 1229, decreed that repentant heretics
"must be imprisoned, in such a way that they could not corrupt
others." It also declared that the Bishop was to provide for the
prisoners' needs out of their confiscated property. Such measures
betoken an earnest desire to safeguard the health, and to a certain
degree the liberty of the prisoners. In fact, the documents we
possess prove that the condemned sometimes enjoyed a great deal of
freedom, and were allowed to receive from their friends an additional
supply of food, even when the prison fare was ample.
But in many places the prisoners, even before their trial, were
treated with great cruelty. "The papal orders were that they (the
prisons) should be constructed of small, dark cells for solitary
confinement, only taking care that the _enormis rigor_ of the
incarceration should not extinguish life."[1] But this last provision
was not always carried out. Too often the prisoners were confined in
narrow cells full of disease, and totally unfit for human habitation.
The Popes, learning this sad state of affairs, tried to remedy it.
Clement V was particularly zealous in his attempts at prison
reform.[2] That he succeeded in bettering, at least for a time, the
lot of these unfortunates, in whom he interested himself, cannot be
denied.[3]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 491.
[2] He ordered that the prisons be kept in good condition, that they
be looked after by both Bishop and Inquisitor, each of whom was to
appoint a jailer who would keep the prison keys, that all provisions
sent to the prisoners should be faithfully given them, etc. Cf.
Decretal _Multorum querela_ in Eymeric, _Directorium_, p. 112.
[3] His legates Pierre de la Chapelle and Béranger fr Frédol visited
in April, 1306, the prisons of Carcassonne and Albi, changed the
jailers, removed the irons from the prisoners, and made others leave
the subterranean cells in which they had been confined. Douais,
_Documents_, vol. ii, p. 304 seq. Cf. Compayré, Études historiques
sur l'Albigeois, pp. 240-245.
If the reforms he decreed were not all carried out, the blame must be
laid to the door of those appointed to enforce them. History frees
him from all responsibility.
The part played by the Popes, the Councils, and the Inquisitors in
the infliction of the death penalty does not appear in so favorable a
light. While not directly participating in the death sentences, they
were still very eager for the executions of the heretics they
abandoned to the secular arm. This is well attested by both documents
and facts.
Lucius III, at the Council of Verona in 1184, ordered sovereigns to
swear, in the presence of their Bishops, to execute fully and
conscientiously the ecclesiastical and civil laws against heresy. If
they refused or neglected to do this, they themselves were liable to
excommunication and their rebellious cities to interdict.[1]
[1] Decretal _Ad abolendam_, in the Decretals, cap. ix, _De
Hæreticis_, lib. v, tit. vii. Cf. Sexto, lib. v, tit. ii, c. 2. _Ut
Officium_; Council of Arles, 1254, can. iii; Council of Béziers,
1246, can. ix.
Innocent IV, in 1252, enacted a law still more severe, insisting on
the infliction of the death penalty upon heretics. "When," he says,
"heretics condemned by the Bishop, his Vicar, or the Inquisitors,
have been abandoned to the secular arm, the podestà or ruler of the
city must take charge of them at once, and within five days enforce
the laws against them."[1]
[1] Eymeric, _Directorium_, Appendix. p. 8.
This law, or rather the bull _Ad Extirpanda_, which contains it, was
to be inscribed in perpetuity in all the local statute books. Any
attempt to modify it was a crime, which condemned the offender to
perpetual infamy, and a fine enforced by the ban. Moreover, each
podestà, at the beginning and end of his term, was required to have
this bull read in all places designated by the Bishop and the
Inquisitors, and to erase from the statute books all laws to the
contrary.
At the same time, Innocent IV issued instructions to the Inquisitors
of upper Italy, urging them to have this bull and the edicts of
Frederic II inserted in the statutes of the various cities.[1] And to
prevent mistakes being made as to which imperial edicts he wished
enforced, he repeated these instructions in 1254, and inserted in one
of his bulls the cruel laws of Frederic II, viz., the edict of
Ravenna, _Commissis nobis_, which decreed the death of obdurate
heretics; and the Sicilian law, _Inconsutilem tunicam_, which
expressly decreed that such heretics be sent to the stake.
[1] Cf. the bulls _Cum adversus, Tunc potissime, Ex Commissis nobis_,
etc., in Eymeric, ibid., pp. 9-12.
These decrees remained the law as long as the Inquisition lasted. The
bull _Ad Extirpanda_ was, however, slightly modified from time to
time. "In 1265, Clement IV again went over it, carefully making some
changes, principally in adding the word 'Inquisitors' in passages
where Innocent had only designated the Bishops and Friars, thus,
showing that the Inquisition had, during the interval, established
itself as the recognized instrumentality in the prosecution of
heresy, and the next year he repeated Innocent's emphatic order to
the Inquisitors to enforce the insertion of his legislation and that
of his predecessors upon the statute books everywhere, with the free
use of excommunication and interdict."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 339.
A little later, Nicholas IV, who during his short pontificate
(1288-1292), greatly favored the Inquisition in its work, re-enacted
the bulls of Innocent IV and Clement IV, and ordered the enforcement
of the laws of Frederic II, lest, perchance, they might fall into
desuetude.[1]
[1] _Registers_, published by Langlois, no. 4253.
It is therefore proved beyond question that the Church, in the person
of the Popes, used every means at her disposal, especially
excommunication, to compel the State to enforce the infliction of the
death penalty upon heretics. This excommunication, moreover, was all
the more dreaded, because, according to the canons, the one
excommunicated, unless absolved front the censure, was regarded as a
heretic himself within a year's time, and was liable therefore to the
death penalty.[1] The princes of the day, therefore, had no other way
of escaping this penalty, except by faithfully carrying out the
sentence of the Church.
[1] Alexander IV decreed this penalty against the contumacious.
Sexto, _De Hæreticis_, cap. vii. Boniface VIII extended it to those
princes and magistrates who did not enforce the sentences of the
Inquisition. Sexto, _De Hæreticis_, cap. xviii in Eymeric, 2a pars,
p. 110.
. . . . . . . .
The Church is also responsible for having introduced torture into the
proceedings of the Inquisition. This cruel practice was introduced by
Innocent IV in 1252.
Torture had left too terrible an impression upon the minds of the
early Christians to permit of their employing it in their own
tribunals. The barbarians who founded the commonwealths of Europe,
with the exception of the Visigoths, knew nothing of this brutal
method of extorting confessions. The only thing of the kind which
they allowed was flogging, which, according to St. Augustine, was
rather akin to the correction of children by their parents. Gratian,
who recommends it in his _Decretum_,[1] lays it down as an "accepted
rule of canon law that no confession is to be extorted by
torture."[2] Besides, Nicholas I, in his instructions to the
Bulgarians, had formally denounced the torturing of prisoners.[3] He
advised that the testimony of three persons be required for
conviction; if these could not be obtained, the prisoner's oath upon
the Gospels was to be considered sufficient.
[1] _Causa_ v, quæst. v, Illi qui, cap. iv.
[2] _Causa_ xv, quæst, vi, cap. i.
[3] _Responsa ad Consulta Bulgarorum_, cap. lxxxvi, Labbe,
_Concilia_, vol. viii, col. 544.
The ecclesiastical tribunals borrowed from Germany another method of
proving crime, viz., the ordeals, or judgments of God.
There was the duel, the ordeal of the cross, the ordeal of boiling
water, the ordeal of fire, and the ordeal of cold water. They had a
great vogue in nearly all the Latin countries, especially in Germany
and France. But about the twelfth century they deservedly fell into
great disfavor, until at last the Popes, particularly Innocent III,
Honorius III, and Gregory IX, legislated them out of existence.[1]
[1] _Decretals_, lib. v, tit. xxxv, cap. i-iii. Cf. Vacandard,
_L'Église et les Ordalies_ in _Études de critique et d'histoire_, 3d
ed., Paris, 1906, pp. 191-215.
At the very moment the popes were condemning the ordeals, the revival
of the Roman law throughout the West was introducing the customs of
antiquity. It was then "that jurists began to feel the need of
torture, and accustom themselves to the idea of its introduction."
"The earliest instances with which I have met," writes Lea, "occur in
the Veronese code of 1228, and the Sicilian constitutions of Frederic
II in 1231, and in both of these the references to it show how
sparingly and hesitatingly it was employed. Even Frederic, in his
ruthless edicts, from 1220 to 1239, makes no allusion to it, but in
accordance with the Verona decree of Lucius III, prescribes the
recognized form of canonical purgation for the trial of all suspected
heretics."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 421.
The use of torture, as Tanon has pointed out, had perhaps never been
altogether discontinued. Some ecclesiastical tribunals, at least in
Paris, made use of it in extremely grave cases, at the close of the
twelfth andd beginning of the thirteenth centuries.[1] But this was
exceptional: in Italy, apparently, it had never been used.
[1] Tanon, op. cit., pp. 362-373.
Gregory IX ignored all references to torture made in the Veronese
code, and the constitutions of Frederic II. But Innocent IV, feeling
undoubtedly that it was a quick and effective method for detecting
criminals, authorized the tribunals of the Inquisition to employ it.
In his bull _Ad Extirpanda_, he says: "The podestà or ruler (of the
city) is hereby ordered to force all captured heretics to confess and
accuse their accomplices by torture which will not imperil life or
injure limb, just as thieves and robbers are forced to accuse their
accomplices, and to confess their crimes; for these heretics are true
thieves, murderers of souls, and robbers of the sacraments of
God."[1] The Pope here tries to defend the use of torture, by
classing heretics with thieves and murderers. A mere comparison is
his only argument.
[1] Bull _Ad Extirpanda_, in Eymeric, _Directorium_, Appendix, p. 8.
This law of Innocent IV was renewed and confirmed November 30, 1259,
by Alexander IV,[1] and again on November 3, 1265, by Clement IV.[2]
The restriction of Innocent III to use torture "which should not
imperil life or injure limb" (_Cogere citra membri diminutionem et
mortis periculum_), left a great deal to the discretion of the
Inquisitors. Besides flogging, the other punishments inflicted upon
those who refused to confess the crime of which they were accused
were antecedent imprisonment, the rack, the _strappado_, and the
burning coals.
[1] Potthast, _Regesta_, no. 17714.
[2] Ibid., no. 19433.
When after the first interrogatory the prisoner denied what the
Inquisitors believed to be very probable or certain, he was thrown
into prison. The _durus carcer et arcta vita_ was deemed an excellent
method of extorting confessions.
"It was pointed out," says Lea, "that judicious restriction of diet
not only reduced the body, but weakened the will, and rendered the
prisoner less able to resist alternate threats of death and promises
of mercy. Starvation, in fact, was reckoned one of the regular and
most efficient methods to subdue unwilling witnesses and
defendants."[1] This was the usual method employed in Languedoc. "It
is the only method," writes Mgr. Douais,[2] "to to extort confessions
mentioned either in the records of the notary of the Inquisition of
Carcassonne[3] or in the sentences of Bernard Gui. It was also the
practice of the Inquisitors across the Rhine."
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 421.
[2] Douais, _Documents_, vol. i, p. ccxl.
[3] Douais, _Documents_, vol. ii, p. 115 and seq.
Still the use of torture, especially of the rack and the _strappado_,
was not unknown in southern Europe, even before the promulgation of
Innocent's bull _Ad Extirpanda_.
The rack was a triangular frame, on which the prisoner was stretched
and bound, so that he could not move. Cords were attached to his arms
and legs, and then connected with a windlass, which, when turned,
dislocated the joints of the wrists and ankles.
The _strappado_ or vertical rack was no less painful. The prisoner
with his hands tied behind his back was raised by a rope attached to
a pulley and windlass to the top of a gallows, or to the ceiling of
the torture chamber; he was then let fall with a jerk to within a few
inches of the ground. This was repeated several times. The cruel
torturers sometimes tied weights to the victim's feet to increase the
shock of the fall.
The punishment of burning, "although a very dangerous punishment," as
an Inquisitor informs us, was occasionally used. We read of an
official of Poitiers, who, following a Toulousain custom, tortured a
sorceress by placing her feet on burning coals (_juxta carbones
accensos_). This punishment is described by Marsollier in his
_Histoire de l'Inquisition_. First a good fire was started; then the
victim was stretched out on the ground, his feet manacled, and turned
toward the flame. Grease, fat, or some other combustible substance
was rubbed upon them, so that they were horribly burned. From time to
time a screen was placed between the victim's feet and the brazier,
that the Inquisitor might have an opportunity to resume his
interrogatory.
Such methods of torturing the accused were so detestable, that in the
beginning the torturer was always a civil official, as we read in the
bull of Innocent IV. The canons of the Church, moreover, prohibited
all ecclesiastics from taking part in these tortures, so that the
Inquisitor who, for whatever reason, accompanied the victim into the
torture chamber, was thereby rendered irregular, and could not
exercise his office again, until he had obtained the necessary
dispensation. The tribunals complained of this cumbrous mode of
administration, and declared that it hindered them from properly
interrogating the accused. Every effort was made to have the
prohibition against clerics being present in the torture chamber
removed. Their object was at last obtained indirectly. On April 27,
1260, Alexander IV authorized the Inquisitors and their associates to
mutually grant all the needed dispensations for irregularities that
might be incurred.[1] This permission was granted a second time by
Urban IV, August 4, 1262;[2] it was practically an authorization to
assist at the interrogatories at which torture was employed. From
this time the Inquisitors did not scruple to appear in person in the
torture chamber. The manuals of the Inquisition record this practice
and approve it.[3]
[1] Douais, _Documents_, vol. i, p. xxv, n. 3.
[2] _Regesta_, no. 18390.
[3] Eymeric, _Directorium_, 3a pars, p. 481.
Torture was not to be employed until the judge had been convinced
that gentle means were of no avail.[1] Even in the torture chamber,
while the prisoner was being stripped of his garments and was being
bound, the Inquisitor kept urging him to confess his guilt. On his
refusal, the _vexatio_ began with slight tortures. If these proved
ineffectual, others were applied with gradually increased severity;
at the very beginning, the victim was shown all the various
instruments of torture, in order that the mere sight of them might
terrify him into yielding.[2]
[1] A grave suspicion against the prisoner was required before he
could be tortured.
[2] Eymeric, _Directorium_, 3a pars, p. 481, col. 1.
The Inquisitors realized so well that such forced confessions were
valueless, that they required the prisoner to confirm them after he
had left the torture chamber. The torture was not to exceed a half
hour. "Usually," writes Lea, "the procedure appears to be that the
torture was continued until the accuser signified his readiness to
confess, when he was unbound and carried into another room where his
confession was made. If, however, the confession was extracted during
the torture, it was read over subsequently to the prisoner, and he
was asked if it were true.... In any case, the record was carefully
made that the confession was free and spontaneous, without the
pressure of force or fear."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i. p. 427.
"It is a noteworthy fact, however, that in the fragmentary documents
of inquisitorial proceedings which have reached us, the references to
torture are singularly few.... In the six hundred and thirty-six
sentences borne upon the register of Toulouse from 1309 to 1323, the
only allusion to torture is in the recital of the case of Calvarie,
but there are numerous instances in which the information wrung from
the convicts who had no hope of escape, could scarce have been
procured in any other manner. Bernard Gui, who conducted the
Inquisition of Toulouse during this period, has too emphatically
expressed his sense of the utility of torture on both principals and
witnesses for us to doubt his readiness in its employment."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., p. 424.
Besides, the investigation which Clement V ordered into the
iniquities of the Inquisition of Carcassonne, proves clearly that the
accused were frequently subjected to torture.[1] That we rarely find
reference to torture in the records of the Inquisition need not
surprise us. For in the beginning, torture was inflicted by civil
executioners outside of the tribunal of the Inquisition; and even
later on, when the Inquisitors were allowed to take part in it, it
was considered merely a means of making the prisoner declare his
willingness to confess afterwards. A confession made under torture
had no force in law; the second confession only was considered valid.
That is why it alone, as a rule, is recorded.
[1] Clement V required the consent of the Inquisitor and the local
Bishop before a heretic could be tortured, _vel tormentis exponere
illis_. Decretal _Multorum querela_, in Eymeric, _Directorium_, 2a
pars, p. 112.
But if the sufferings of the victims of the Inquisition were not
deemed worthy of mention in the records, they were none the less real
and severe. Imprudent or heartless judges were guilty of grave abuses
in the use of torture. Rome, which had authorized it, at last
intervened, not, we regret to say, to prohibit it altogether, but at
least to reform the abuses which had been called to her attention.
One reform of Clement V ordered the Inquisition never to use torture
without the Bishop's consent, if he could be reached within eight
days.[1]
[1] Decretal, _Multorum querela_.
"Bernard Gui emphatically remonstrated against this, as seriously
crippling the efficiency of the Inquisition, and proposed to
substitute for it the meaningless phrase that torture should only be
used _with mature and careful deliberation_, but his suggestion was
not heeded, and the Clementine regulations remained the law of the
Church."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 424; Bernard Gui, _Practica_, ed.
Douais, 4a pars, p. 188.
The code of the Inquisition was now practically complete, for
succeeding Popes made no change of any importance. The data before us
prove that the Church forgot her early traditions of toleration, and
borrowed from the Roman jurisprudence, revived by the legists, laws
and practices which remind one of the cruelty of ancient paganism.
But once this criminal code was adopted, she endeavored to mitigate
the cruelty with which it was enforced. If this preoccupation is not
always visible--and it is not in her condemnation of obdurate
heretics--we must at least give her the credit of insisting that
torture "should never imperil life or injure limb:" _Cogere citra
membri diminutionem et mortis periculum_.
We will now ask how the theologians and canonists interpreted this
legislation, and how the tribunals of the Inquisition enforced it.
CHAPTER VIII
THEOLOGIANS, CANONISTS, AND CASUISTS OF THE INQUISITION
THE gravity of the crime of heresy was early recognized in the
Church. Gratian discussed this question in a special chapter of his
_Decretum._[1] Innocent III, Guala, the Dominican, and the Emperor
Frederic II, as we have seen, looked upon heresy as treason against
Almighty God, i.e., the most dreadful of crimes.
[1] _Causa_ xxii, q. vii, cap. 16.
The theologians, and even the civil authorities, did not concern
themselves much with the evil effects of heresy upon the social
order, but viewed it rather as an offense against God. Thus they made
no distinction between those teachings which entailed injury on the
family and on society, and those which merely denied certain revealed
truths. Innocent III, in his constitution of September 23, 1207,
legislated particularly against the Patarins, but he took care to
point out that no heretic, no matter what the nature of his error
might be, should be allowed to escape the full penalty of the law.[1]
Frederic II spoke in similar terms in his Constitutions of 1220,
1224, and 1232. This was the current teaching throughout the Middle
Ages.
[1] Ep. x, 130.
But it is important to know what men then understood by the word
heresy. We can ascertain this from the theologians and canonists,
especially from St. Raymond of Pennafort and St. Thomas Aquinas. St.
Raymond gives four meanings to the word heretic, but from the
standpoint of the canon law he says: "A heretic is one who denies the
faith."[1] St. Thomas Aquinas is more accurate. He declares that no
one is truly a heretic unless he obstinately maintains his error,
even after it has been pointed out to him by ecclesiastical
authority. This is the teaching of St. Augustine.[2]
[1] S. Raymundi, _Summa_, lib. i, cap. _De Hæreticis_, sect. i, Roman
Edition, 1603, p. 39.
[2] _Summa_, IIa, IIae, quæst. xi, Conclusio; cf. ibid., ad 3um,
quotations from St. Augustine.
But by degrees the word, taken at first in a strict sense, acquired a
broader meaning. St. Raymond includes schism in the notion of heresy.
"The only difference between these two crimes," he writes, "is the
difference between genus and species;" every schism ends in heresy.
And relying on the authority of St. Jerome, the rigorous canonist
goes so far as to declare that schism is even a greater crime than
heresy. He proves this by the fact that Core, Dathan, and Abiron,[1]
who seceded from the chosen people, were punished by the most
terrible of punishments. "From the enormity of the punishment, must
we not argue the enormity of the crime?" St. Raymond therefore
declares that the same punishment must be inflicted upon the heretic
and the schismatic.[2]
[1] Num. xvi. 31-33.
[2] Loc. cit., lib. i, cap. _De Schismaticis_, pp. 45-47
"The authors of the treatises on the Inquisition," writes Tanon,
"classed as heretics all those who favored heresy, and all
excommunicates who did not submit to the Church within a certain
period. They declared that a man excommunicated for any cause
whatever, who did not seek absolution within a year, incurred by this
act of rebellion a light suspicion of heresy; that he could then be
cited before the Inquisitor to answer not only for the crime which
had caused his excommunication, but also for his orthodoxy. If he did
not answer this second summons, he was at once considered
excommunicated for heresy, and if he remained under this second
excommunication for a year, he was liable to be condemned as a real
heretic. The light suspicion caused by his first excommunication
became in turn a vehement and then a violent suspicion which,
together with his continued contumacy, constituted a full proof of
heresy."[1]
[1] Tanon, op. cit., pp. 235, 236.
The theologians insisted greatly upon respect for ecclesiastical and
especially Papal authority. Everything that tended to lessen this
authority seemed to them a practical denial of the faith. The
canonist Henry of Susa (Hostiensis + 1271), went so far as to say
that "whoever contradicted or refused to accept the decretals of the
Popes was a heretic."[1] Such disobedience was looked upon as a
culpable disregard of the rights of the papacy, and consequently a
form of heresy.
[1] In Baluze-Mansi, _Miscellanea_, vol. ii. p. 275.
Superstition was also classed under the heading of heresy. The
canonist Zanchino Ugolini tells us that he was present at the
condemnation of an immoral priest, who was punished by the
Inquisitors not for his licentiousness, but because he said Mass
every day in a state of sin, and urged in excuse that he considered
himself pardoned by the mere fact of putting on the sacred
vestments.[1]
[1] _Tractat. de Hæret_., cap. ii.
The Jews, as such, were never regarded as heretics. But the usury
they so widely practiced evidenced an unorthodox doctrine on
thievery, which made them liable to be suspected of heresy. Indeed,
we find several Popes upbraiding them "for maintaining that usury is
not a sin." Some Christians also fell into the same error, and
thereby became subject to the Inquisition. Pope Martin V, in his bull
of November 6, 1419., authorizes the Inquisitors to prosecute these
usurers.[1]
[1] Bull _Inter cætera_, sent to the Inquisitor Pons Feugeyron.
Sorcery and magic were also put on a par with heresy. Pope Alexander
IV had decided that divination and sorcery did not fall under the
jurisdiction of the Inquisition, unless there was manifest heresy
involved.[1] But casuists were not wanting to prove that heresy was
involved in such cases. The belief in the witches' nightly rides
through the air, led by Diana or Herodias of Palestine, was very
widespread in the Middle Ages, and was held by some as late as the
fifteenth century. The question whether the devil could carry off men
and women was warmly debated by the theologians of the time. "A case
adduced by Albertus Magnus, in a disputation on the subject before
the Bishop of Paris, and recorded by Thomas of Cantimpré, in which
the daughter of the Count of Schwalenberg was regularly carried away
every night for several hours, gave immense satisfaction to the
adherents of the new doctrine, and eventually an ample store of more
modern instances was accumulated to confirm Satan in his enlarged
privileges."[2] Satan, it seems, imprinted upon his clients an
indelible mark, the _stigma diabolicum_.
[1] Bull of December 9, 1257.
[2] Lea, op. cit., vol. iii, p. 497.
"In 1458, the Inquisitor Nicholas Jaquerius remarked reasonably
enough that even if the affair was an illusion, it was none the less
heretical, as the followers of Diana and Herodias were necessarily
heretics in their waking hours."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., pp. 497, 498.
About 1250, the Inquisitor Bernard of Como taught categorically that
the phenomena of witchcraft, especially the attendance at the
witches' Sabbath, were not fanciful but real: "This is proved," he
says, "from the fact that the Popes permitted witches to be burned at
the stake; they would not have countenanced this, if these persons
were not real heretics, and their crimes only imaginary, for the
Church only punishes proved crimes."[1] Witchcraft was, therefore,
amenable to the tribunals of the lnquisition.[2]
[1] _Lucerna Inquisitorium_, Romæ, 1584, p. 144.
[2] In a letter to one of the cardinals of the Holy Office, dated
1643, witchcraft is classed with heresy. Douais, _Documents_, vol. i,
p. ccliv. In practice, the heretical tendency of witchcraft was hard
to determine. Each judge, therefore, as a rule, pronounced sentence
according to his own judgment.
While the casuists thus increased the number of crimes which the
Inquisition could prosecute, on the other hand, they shortened the
judicial procedure then in vogue.
Following the Roman law, the Inquisition at first recognized three
forms of action in criminal cases--_accusatio, denuntiatio_, and
_inquisitio_. In the _accusatio_, the accuser formally inscribed
himself as able to prove his accusation; if he failed to do so, he
had to undergo the penalty which the prisoner would have incurred
(_poena talionis_).[1] "From the very beginning, he was placed in the
same position as the one he accused, even to the extent of sharing
his imprisonment."[2] The _denuntiatio_ did not in any way bind the
accuser; he merely handed in his testimony, and then ceased
prosecuting the case; the judge at once proceeded to take action
against the accused. In the _inquisitio_, there was no one either to
accuse or denounce the criminal; the judge cited the suspected
criminal before him and proceeded to try him. This was the most
common method of procedure; from it the Inquisition received its
name.[3]
[1] Tanon, op. cit., p. 260, n. 4.
[2] Tancrède, _Ordo judiciorum_, lib. ii.
[3] On these three forms of action, cf. Eymeric, _Directorium_, 3a
pars, p. 413 et seq.
The Inquisitorial procedure was therefore inspired by the Roman law.
But in practice the _accusatio_, which gave the prisoner a chance to
meet the charges against him, was soon abandoned. In fact the
Inquisitors were always most anxious to set it aside. Urban IV
enacted a decree, July 28, 1262, whereby they were allowed to proceed
_simpliciter et de plano, absque advocatorum strepitu et figura_.[1]
Bernard Gui insisted on this in his _Practica_.[2] Eymeric advised
his associates, when an accuser appeared before them who was
perfectly willing to accept the _poena talionis_ in case of failure,
to urge the imprudent man to withdraw his demand. For he argued that
the _accusatio_ might prove harmful to himself, and besides give too
much room for trickery.[3] In other words, the Inquisitors wished to
be perfectly untrammeled in their action.
[1] Bull _Præ cunctis_ of July 28, 1262.
[2] _Practica_, 4a pars. ed. Douais, p. 192.
[3] _Directorium_, p. 414. col. 1.
The secrecy of the Inquisition's procedure was one of the chief
causes of complaint.
But the Inquisition, dreadful as it was, did not lack defenders. Some
of their arguments were most extravagant and far-fetched. "Paramo, in
the quaint pedantry with which he ingeniously proves that God was the
first Inquisitor, and the condemnation of Adam and Eve the first
model of the Inquisitorial process, triumphantly points out that he
judges them in secret, thus setting the example which the Inquisition
is bound to follow, and avoiding the subtleties which the criminals
would have raised in their defence, especially at the suggestion of
the crafty serpent. That he called no witnesses is explained by the
confession of the accused, and ample legal authority is cited to show
that these confessions were sufficient to justify the conviction and
punishment."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 406.
. . . . . . . .
The subtlety of the casuists had full play when they came to discuss
the torture of the prisoner who absolutely refused to confess.
According to law, the torture could be inflicted but once, but this
regulation was easily evaded. For it was lawful to subject the
prisoner to all the various kinds of torture in succession; and if
additional evidence were discovered, the torture could be repeated.
When they desired, therefore, to repeat the torture, even after an
interval of some days, they evaded the law by calling it technically
not a "repetition" but a "continuance of the first torture:" _Ad
continuandum tormenta, non ad iterandum_, as Eymeric styles it.[1]
This quibbling of course gave full scope to the cruelty and the
indiscreet zeal of the Inquisitors.
[1] Eymeric, _Directorium_, 3a pars, p. 481, col. 2.
But a new difficulty soon arose. Confessions extorted under torture,
had, as we have seen, no legal value. Eymeric himself admitted that
the results obtained in this way were very unreliable, and that the
Inquisitors should realise this fact.
If, on leaving the torture chamber, the prisoner reiterated his
confession, the case was at once decided. But suppose, on the
contrary, that the confession extorted under torture was afterwards
retracted, what was to be done? The Inquisitors did not agree upon
this point. Some of them, like Eymeric, held that in this case the
prisoner was entitled to his freedom. Others, like the author of the
_Sacro Arsenale_, held that "the torture should be repeated, in order
that the prisoner might be forced to reiterate his first confession
which had evidently compromised him." This seems to have been the
traditional practice of the Italian tribunals.
But the casuists did not stop here. They discovered "that Clement V
had only spoken of torture in general, and had not specifically
alluded to witnesses, whence they concluded that one of the most
shocking abuses of the system, the torture of witnesses, was left to
the sole discretion of the Inquisitor, and this became the accepted
rule. It only required an additional step to show that after the
accused had been convicted by evidence or had confessed as to
himself, he became a witness as to the guilt of his friends, and thus
could be arbitrarily (?) tortured to betray them."[1]
[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, p. 425.
As a matter of course, the canonists and the theologians approved the
severest penalties inflicted by the Inquisition. St. Raymond of
Pennafort, however, who was one of the most favored counselors of
Gregory IX, still upheld the criminal code of Innocent III. The
severest penalties he defended were the excommunication of heretics
and schismatics, their banishment and the confiscation of their
property.[1] His _Summa_ was undoubtedly completed when the Dccretal
of Gregory IX appeared, authorizing the Inquisitors to enforce the
cruel laws of Frederic II.
[1] Lea writes (op. cit., vol. i, p. 229, note) "Saint Raymond of
Pennafort, the compiler of the decretals of Gregory I, who was the
highest authority in his generation, lays it down as a principle of
ecclesiastical law that the heretic is to be coerced by
excommunication and confiscation, and if they fail, _by the extreme
exercise of the secular power_. The man who was doubtful in faith was
to be held a heretic, and so also was the schismatic who, while
believing all the articles of religion, refused the obedience due to
the Roman Church. All alike were to be forced into the Roman fold,
and the fate of Core, Dathan and Abiron was invoked _for the
destruction of the obstinate_." (_Summa_, lib. i. tit. v, 2, 4, 8;
tit. vi, i.) This is a travesty of the mind, and words of Saint
Raymond. He merely called attention to the lot of Core, Dathan and
Abiron to show what a great crime schism was. He never asserted that
heretics or schismatics, even when obdurate, ought to be "destroyed."
_Summa_, lib. i, cap. _De Hæreticis_ and _De Schismaticis_.
But St. Thomas, who wrote at a time when the Inquisition was in full
operation, felt called upon to defend the infliction of the death
penalty upon heretics and the relapsed. His words deserve careful
consideration. He begins by answering the objections that might be
brought from the Scriptures and the Fathers against his thesis. The
first of these is the well-known passage of St. Matthew, in which our
Saviour forbids the servants of the householder to gather up the
cockle before the harvest time, lest they root up the wheat with
it.[1] St. John Chrysostom, he says, "argues from this text that it
is wrong to put heretics to death."[2] But according to St. Augustine
the words of the Saviour: "Let the cockle grow until the harvest,"
are explained at once by what follows: "lest perhaps gathering up the
cockle, you root up the wheat also with it." When there is no danger
of uprooting the wheat and no danger of schism, violent measures may
be used:" _Cum metus iste non subest ... non dormiat severitas
disciplinæ_."[3] We doubt very much whether such reasoning would have
satisfied St. John Chrysostom, St. Theodore the Studite, or Bishop
Wazo, who understood the Saviour's prohibition in a literal and an
absolute sense.
[1] Matt. xiii. 28-30.
[2] _In Matthæum_, Homil. xlvi.
[3] Augustine, _Contra epistol. Parmeniani_, lib. iii. cap. ii.
But this passage does not reveal the whole mind of the Angelic
doctor. It is more evident in his exegesis of Ezechiel xviii. 32,
_Nolo mortem peccatoris_. "Assuredly," he writes, "none of us desires
the death of a single heretic. But remember that the house of David
could not obtain peace until Absalom was killed in the war he waged
against his father. In like manner, the Catholic Church saves some of
her children by the death of others, and consoles her sorrowing heart
by reflecting that she is acting for the general good."[1]