The Inquisition Part 16

[1] Lea, op. cit., vol. i, 486.

a.s.suredly this penalty of imprisonment was terrible, but while we may denounce some Inquisitors for having made its suffering more intense out of malice or indifference, we must also admit that others sometimes mitigated its severity.

The condemnation of obstinate heretics, and later on, of the relapsed, permitted no exercise of clemency. How many heretics were abandoned to the secular arm, and thus sent to the stake, is impossible to determine. However, we have some interesting statistics of the more important tribunals on this point. The portion of the register of Bernard de Caux which relates to impenitent heretics has been lost, but we have the sentences of the Inquisition of Pamiers (1318-1324), and of Toulouse (1308-1323). In nine _Sermones_ or _Autos-da-fe_[1] of the tribunal of Pamiers, condemning sixty-four persons, only five heretics were abandoned to the secular arm.

[1] The _Sermo generalis_ after which the sentences were solemnly p.r.o.nounced by the Inquisitors was called in Spain _auto-da-fe_.

Bernard Gui presided over eighteen _autos-da-fe_, and condemned nine hundred and thirty heretics; and yet he abandoned only forty-two to the secular arm.[1] These Inquisitors were far more lenient than Robert the Bougre. Taking all in all, the Inquisition in its operation denoted a real progress in the treatment of criminals; for it not only put an end to the summary vengeance of the mob, but it diminished considerably the number of those sentenced to death.[2]

[1] Cf. the sentences of Bernard Gui in Douais, _Doc.u.ments_, vol. i, p. ccv, and Appendix B.

[2] Even while the Inquisition was in full operation, the heretics who managed to escape the ecclesiastical tribunals had no reason to congratulate themselves. For we read that Raymond VII, Count of Toulouse in 1248, caused eighty heretics to be burned at Berlaiges, near Agen, after they had confessed in his presence, without giving them the opportunity of recanting.

We notice at Pamiers that only one out of thirteen, while at Toulouse but one in twenty-two, was sentenced to death. Although terrible enough, these figures are far different from the exaggerated statistics imagined by the fertile brains of ignorant controversialists.[1]

[1] Of course we do not here refer to honest historians like Langlois who estimates that one heretic out of every ten was abandoned to the secular arm (op. cit., p. 106). Dom Brial erroneously states in his preface to vol. xix of the _Recueil des Historiens des Gautes_ (p.

xxiii) that Bernard Gui burned 637 heretics. This figure represented the number of heretics then known to be _condemned_, but only 40 of these were abandoned to the secular arm. The exact number is 42 out of 930. Cf. Douais, _Doc.u.ments_, vol. i, p. ccv, and Appendix B.

It is true that many writers are haunted by the cruelty of the Spanish or German tribunals which sent to the stake a great number of victims, i.e., _conversos_ and witches.

From the very beginning, the Spanish Inquisition acted with the utmost severity. "Twelve hundred _conversos_, penitents, obdurate and relapsed heretics were present at the _auto-da-fe_ in Toledo, March, 1487; and, according to the most conservative estimate, Torquemada sent to the stake about two thousand heretics"[1] in twelve years.

[1] Langlois, _L'Inquisition d'apres des tableaux recents_, 1902, pp.

105, 106. This number, without being certain, is a.s.serted by contemporaries, Pulga and Marinco Siculo. Cf. Hefele, _Le Cardinal Ximenes_, Paris, 1856, pp. 290, 291. Another contemporary, Bernaldes, speaks of over 700 burned from 1481-1488; cf. Gams, _Kirchengeschichte von Spanien_, vol. iii, 2, p. 69.

"During this same period," says a contemporary historian, "fifteen thousand heretics did penance, and were reconciled to the Church."[1]

That makes a total of seventeen thousand trials. We can thus understand how Torquemada, although grossly calumniated, came to be identified with this period, during which so many thousands of _conversos_ appeared before the Spanish tribunals.

[1] Pulgar, in Hefele, op. cit., p. 291.

The zeal of the Inquisitors seemed to abate after a time.[1] Perhaps they thought it better to keep the Jews and the Mussulmans in the Church by kindness. But kindness failed just as force had failed.

After one hundred years, the number of obdurate _conversos_ was as great as ever. Several ardent advocates of force advised the authorities to send them all to the stake. But the State determined to drive the Moriscos from Spain, as it had banished the Jews in 1492. Accordingly in September, 1609, a law was pa.s.sed decreeing the banishment, under penalty of death, of all Moriscos, men, women, and children. Five hundred thousand persons, about one sixteenth of the postulation were thus banished from Spain, and forced to seek refuge on the coasts of Barbary. "Behold," writes Brother Bleda, "the most glorious event in Spain since the times of the Apostles; religious unity is now secured; an era of prosperity is certainly about to dawn."[2] This era of prosperity so proudly announced by the Dominican zealot never came. This extreme measure, which pleased him so greatly, in reality weakened Spain, by depriving her of hundreds of thousands of her subjects.

[1] "The Inquisition of Valencia condemned one hundred and twelve _conversos_ in 1538 (of whom fourteen were sent to the stake); at the _auto-da-fe_ of Seville, September 24, 1559, three were burned, and eight were reconciled and sentenced to life imprisonment; on June 6, 1585, the Inquisitors of Saragossa in their account to Philip II speak of having reconciled sixty-three, and of having sent five to the stake." Langlois, op. cit., p. 106.

[2] Cf. Bleda, _Defensio fidei in causa neophytorum sive Moriscorum regni Valentini totiusque Hispaniae,_, Valencia, 1610.

The witchcraft fever which spread over Europe in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries stimulated to an extraordinary degree the zeal of the Inquisitors. The bull of Innocent VIII, _Summis Desiderantes_, December 5, 1484, made matters worse. The Pope admitted that men and women could have immoral relations with demon, and that sorcerers by their magical incantations could injure the harvests, the vineyards, the orchards and the fields.[1]

[1] _Bullarium_, vol. v, p. 296 and seq., and Pegna's _Bullarium_ in Eymeric, _Directorium Inquisit_., p. 83.

He also complained of the folly of those ecclesiastics and laymen who opposed the Inquisition in its prosecution of heretical sorcerers, and concluded by conferring additional powers upon the Dominican Inquisitors, Inst.i.toris and Sprenger, the author of the famous _Malleus Maleficarum_.

Innocent VIII a.s.suredly had no intention of committing the Church to a belief in the phenomena he mentioned in his bull, but his personal opinion did leave an influence upon the canonists and Inquisitors of his day; this is clear from the trials for witchcraft held during this period.[1] It is impossible to estimate the number of sorcerers condemned. Louis of Paramo triumphantly declared that in a century and a half the Holy Office sent to the stake over thirty thousand.[2]

Of course we must take such round numbers with a grain of salt, as they always are greatly exaggerated. But the fact remains that the condemnations for sorcery were so numerous as to stagger belief. The Papacy itself recognized the injustice of its agents. For in 1637 instructions were issued stigmatizing the conduct of the Inquisitors on account of their arbitrary and unjust prosecution of sorcerers; they were accused of extorting from them by cruel tortures confessions that were valueless, and of abandoning them to the secular arm without sufficient cause.[1]

[1] Pignatelli, _Consultationes novissimae canonicae, Venetiis_, 2 in fol., vol. i, p. 505, _Consultatio_ 123.

Confiscation, though not so severe a penalty as the stake, bore very heavily upon the victims of the Inquisition. The Roman laws cla.s.sed the crime of heresy with treason, and visited it with a princ.i.p.al penalty, death, and a secondary penalty, confiscation. They decreed that all heretics, without exception, forfeited their property the very day they wavered in the faith. Actual confiscation of goods did not take place in the case of those penitents who had deserved no severer punishment than temporary imrisonment. Bernard Gui answered those who objected to this ruling, by showing that, as a matter of fact, there was no real pecuniary loss involved. For, he argued: "Secondary penances are inflicted only upon those heretics who denounce their accomplices. But, by this denunciation, they ensure this discovery and arrest of the guilty ones, who, without their aid, would have escaped punishment; the goods of these heretics are at once confiscated, which is certainly a positive gain."[1] Actual confiscation took place in the case of all obdurate and relapsed heretics abandoned to the secular arm, with all penitents condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and with all suspects who had managed to escape the Inquisition, either by flight or by death. The heretic who died peacefully in bed before the Inquisition could lay hands upon him was considered contumacious, and treated as such; his remains were exhumed, and his property confiscated. This last fact accounts for the incredible frequency of prosecutions against the dead. Of the six hundred and thirty-six cases tried by Bernard Gui, eighty-eight were posthumous. As a general rule, the confiscation of the heretic's property, which so frequently resulted from the trials of the Inquisition, had a great deal to do with the interest they aroused.

We do not say that the Holy Office systematically increased the number of its condemnations merely to increase its pecuniary profits.

But abuses of this kind were inevitable. We know they existed, because the Popes denounced them strongly, although they were too rare to deserve more than a pa.s.sing mention. But would the ecclesiastical and lay princes who, in varying proportions, shared with the Holy Office in these confiscations, and who in some countries appropriated them all, have accorded to the Inquisition that continual good-will and help which was the condition of its prosperity, without what Lea calls "the stimulant of pillage?" We may very well doubt it.... That is why, in point of fact, their zeal for the faith languished whenever pecuniary gain was not forthcoming. "In our days," writes the Inquisitor Eymeric rather gloomily, "there are no more rich heretics, so that princes, not seeing much money in prospect, will not put themselves to any expense; it is a pity that so salutary an inst.i.tution as ours should be so uncertain of its future."[2]

[1] _Practica_,m 3 pars, p. 185.

[2] Langlois, op. cit., pp. 75-78.

Most historians have said little or nothing about the money side of the Inquisition. Lea was the first to give it the attention it deserved. He writes "In addition to the misery inflicted by these wholesale confiscations on the thousands of innocent and helpless women and children thus stripped of everything, it would be almost impossible to exaggerate the evil which they entailed upon all cla.s.ses in the business of daily life."[1] There was indeed very little security in business, for the contracts of a hidden heretic were essentially null and void, and could be rescinded as soon as his guilt was discovered, either during his lifetime or after his death.

In view of such a penal code, we can understand why Lea should write: "While the horrors of the crowded dungeon can scarce be exaggerated, yet more effective for evil and more widely exasperating was the sleepless watchfulness which was ever on the alert to plunder the rich and to wrench from the poor the hard-earned gains on which a family depended for support."[2]

[1] Lea, op. cit., p. 522.

[2] Lea, op. cit., p. 480.

This summary of the acts of the Inquisition is at best but a brief and very imperfect outline. But a more complete study would not afford us any deeper insight into its operation.

Human pa.s.sions are responsible for the many abuses of the Inquisition. The civil power in heresy trials was far from being partial to the accused. On the contrary, it would seem that the more pressure the State brought to bear upon the ecclesiastical tribunals, the more arbitrary their procedure became.

We do not deny that the zeal of the Inquisitors was at times excessive, especially in the use of torture. But some of their cruelty may be explained by their sincere desire for the salvation of the heretic. They regarded the confession of the suspects as the beginning of their conversion. They therefore believed any means used for that purpose justified. They thought that an Inquisitor had done something praiseworthy, when, even at the cost of cruel torments, he freed a heretic from his heresy. He was sorry indeed to be obliged to use force; but that was not altogether his fault, but the fault of the laws which he had to enforce.

Most men regard the _auto-da-fe_ as the worst horror of the Inquisition. It is hardly ever pictured without burning flames and ferocious looking executioners. But an _auto-da-fe_ did not necessarily call for either stake or executioner. It was simply a solemn "Sermon," which the heretics about to be condemned had to attend.[1] The death penalty was not always inflicted at these solemnities, which were intended to impress the imagination of the people. Seven out of eighteen _autos-da-fe_ presided over by the famous Inquisitor, Bernard Gui, decreed no severer penalty than imprisonment.

[1] On these "Sermons," cf. Tanon, op. cit., pp. 425-431.

We have seen, moreover, that in many places, even in Spain, at a certain period, the number of heretics condemned to death was rather small. Even Lea, whom no one can accuse of any great partiality for the Church is forced to state: "The stake consumed comparatively few victims."[1]

[1] Op. cit., vol. i, p. 480.

In fact, imprisonment and confiscation were as a rule the severest penalties inflicted.

CHAPTER X A CRITICISM OF THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF THE INQUISITION

SUCH was the development for over one thousand years (200-1300) of the theory of Catholic writers on the coercive power of the Church in the treatment of heresy. It began with the principle of absolute toleration; it ended with the stake.

During the era of the persecutions, the Church, who was suffering herself from pagan intolerance, merely excommunicated heretics, and tried to win them back to the orthodox faith by the kindness and the force of argument. But when the emperors became Christians, they, in memory of the days when they were "_Pontifices maximi_," at once endeavored to regulate wors.h.i.+p and doctrine, at least externally.

Unfortunately, certain sects, hated like the Manicheans, or revolutionary in character like the Donatists, prompted the enactment of cruel laws for their suppression. St. Optatus approved these measures, and Pope St. Leo had not the courage to disavow them.

Still, most of the early Fathers, St. John Chrysostom, St. Martin, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, and many others,[1] protested strongly in the name of Christian charity against the infliction of the death penalty upon heretics. St. Augustine, who formed the mind of his age, at first favored the theory of absolute toleration. But afterwards, perceiving that certain good results followed from what he called "a salutary fear," he modified his views. He then maintained that the State could and ought to punish by fine, confiscation, or even exile, her rebellious children, in order to make them repent. This may be called his theory of moderate persecution.

[1] Lea (op. cit., vol. i, pp. 214, 215) says that St. Jerome was an advocate of force. "Rigor in fact," argues St. Jerome, "is the most genuine mercy, since temporal punishment may avert eternal perdition." Here St. Jerome merely says that G.o.d punishes in time that he may no punish in eternity. But he by no means "argues" that this punishment should be in the hands of either Church or State.

_Commentar_., in Naum, i, 9, P. L., vol. xxv, col. 1238.