WHAT is generally called the Inquisition was not the commencement of persecution for what was considered to be heresy. As early as the end of the fourth century, Priscillianus was put to death on this plea. He was condemned first by a council held at Bordeaux, A.D. 384, and then he appealed to the emperor Maximus, who caused his case to be investigated by the prefect. On his report, Maximus ordered him, with six others, who, under torture, had confessed impure practices, to be beheaded. This has been considered to be the first case in the church of persons being judicially put to death for heresy. A bishop named Ithacius was his principal accuser, and this was at that time considered by Ambrose and others so unbecoming to the office of bishop, that he was excommunicated, and died in exile. So that it is evident that such dealing with heretics did not meet with the approval of some of the best in the church at that time.
The emperor Justinian (A.D. 527-565), in his Code, treats of the Catholic faith, as settled by the councils of Nicæa, Constantinople, Ephesus, and Chalcedon, forbids public disputations upon dogmas, and enacts penalties against heretics, Jews and apostates. Persons were appointed to assist in the prosecution of the guilty, but at that date they were civil officers; and, for a time, cases of heresy were tried in the ordinary courts, and penalties awarded.
As time rolled on, the bishops examined those who were charged with heresy, and if these did not renounce their errors they were handed over to the civil powers for punishment; but the hunting for heretics was not yet general, nor was everything considered to be heresy which deviated from “the Church." As we have seen, the councils were to be the test; but in due course the church became everything.
Pope Alexander III (A.D. 1159-1181) being driven from Rome by an anti-pope, proceeded to France. King Henry II of England and Louis VII of France, held the bridle of the pope as he rode on horseback through the town of Cosne, on the Loire.
There had been a great religious awakening in some parts of France. To crush this, Alexander called a council at Tours, in A.D. 1163. Seventeen cardinals (including Thomas à Becket) and one hundred and twenty-four bishops attended. As its canons may be said to be the first acts of the church of Rome essentially inquisitorial, we will give a part of its decision:—
Because of heresies existing in Toulouse, and elsewhere, "We command the bishops and all the Lord's priests dwelling in those parts, to keep watch, and under peril of anathema, to prohibit that, where followers of that heresy are known, any one in the country shall dare to offer them refuge, or to lend them help. Neither shall there be any dealings with such persons in buying or selling; that, all solace of humanity being utterly lost to them, they may be compelled to forsake the error of their life. And whosoever shall attempt to contravene this order shall be smitten with anathema, as a partaker of their iniquity. But they, if they be taken, shall be thrown into prison by Catholic princes, and be deprived of all their goods." All meetings of heretics were strictly forbidden.
It should be noticed, that not only were those called heretics to be punished, but all their goods were to be forfeited. As we shall see, this became a frightful incentive to greedy priests to bring accusations against the rich, for they themselves shared in the confiscated goods of their victims.
Pope Innocent III (A.D. 1198-1216) was exceedingly zealous in rooting out any called heretics. He summoned a fourth council of the Lateran in 1215, where new and severe enactments were passed against such as not simply differed from the general councils of the church, but all who differed from the church of Rome, with its errors and superstitions. The bishops were now to be the judges.
In this council it was enacted: "Persons marked with suspicion only, unless they can clear themselves, are to be smitten with the sword of anathema, and shunned by every one. If then they persist for a year in excommunication, they shall be condemned as heretics."
At a council held at Toulouse in 1229, it was ordered that a permanent Inquisition should be established against heretics; but it was not till pope Gregory IX, in 1233, had deprived the bishops of the power of punishing heretics, and entrusted the work to the Dominicans, that it took a permanent form as a separate tribunal. It was called the Holy Inquisition, and its officers Inquisitors of the Faith.
At first it was comparatively simple in its action, and acted as an ordinary court of justice; but by degrees the Inquisitors extended their powers, and degenerated into tyrants. They not only professed to judge actions and words, but thoughts and intentions. If they wanted to convict an accused person, they would apply torture, and if they could get a confession of even a thought against the church of Rome, it was enough to convict of heresy. And it was always easy to suspect one of heresy, and then to deny that such a one had cleared himself.
Any person was allowed to accuse any of his enemies, and the accused, when he least expected it—at the dead of night sometimes—was aroused by their agents, and dragged off to their prison. Inquiries were useless; the accused would not be told who were his accusers; he must simply reply to the questions asked. Everything was marked by secrecy.
The tortures also were dreadful—too dreadful to be detailed. Joints were dislocated, tender parts of the body scorched, &c., till numbers would confess anything to save themselves such torments.
The property of the condemned being confiscated, was, as we have seen, a great temptation to avaricious men to accuse and convict.
When tortures failed to get the desired confession, other plans were tried. For instance, another person, apparently in great distress, would be put in the same cell; he would profess that he also was an accused person, and he would rate out against the church of Rome and his persecutors, and seek to draw from the accused some response to his suggestions.
Or one would come professedly to console the accused, and to assure him that anything he might confess to him should never be known: indeed, he would use his influence to procure his liberation if he opened his mind to him. Such diabolical snares were only too often successful.
One case is recorded where a mother and two daughters were suspected. One of the daughters was arrested and examined, offered relief if she would confess; but she would confess nothing. The following plan was adopted. The inquisitor ordered her into his presence, and then bid all his attendants to leave the room. When alone, he declared that he had fallen in love with her, and was really anxious to save her. This he repeated day after day with endearing words; but one day he told her that her mother and sister had been arrested, and all was known as to them. If she would confess, he would be able to save them as well as herself. She was thus taken off her guard, and told all. The very next day she was summoned into the presence of others and her confession, thus drawn from her, was used to condemn herself, as well as her mother and sister! Such treachery was not considered any disgrace, but was treated as great cleverness. The end would justify the means.
Those who were condemned to death were often kept waiting for months until more were also ready, that several being burnt to death at one time might strike terror into the hearts of all, and warn them of the danger they ran in differing from the then all-powerful church of Rome.
Auto-de-Fé, Act of Faith, was the name given to these executions. They took place on the Sunday, when people were more at leisure to be present. A procession was led forth from the prison, the victims being dressed in coats, on which there were pictures of flames, with figures of dragons and demons, and huge caps on their heads. Those who were only to do penance were dressed differently: a cross told that they were not to be burnt. If any were converted to the Romish faith just before being led out or at the stake, they had the privilege of being strangled before being burnt!
Some of the victims had gags in their mouths, lest they should speak to the people or reveal any secrets. "This I saw done to a prisoner," says Dr. Geddes, in his account of the Inquisition in Portugal, "presently, after he came out of the gates of the Inquisition, upon his having looked up to the sun which he had not seen for several years, and cried out in a rapture, ‘How is it possible for people that behold that glorious body to worship any being but Him that created it?'"
When the place of execution was reached, prayers were offered up, and a sermon preached in praise of the Inquisition and in condemnation of all heretics. Those who were not converted at the stake were told, by the priests, that they were left to the devil who was at their elbow to carry their souls to perdition.
Even at the execution cruelty reigned; for the victims were often slowly burnt to death. This was witnessed also by Dr. Geddes. He says: “The victims were chained to stakes at the height of about four feet from the ground. A quantity of furze that lay round the stakes was set on fire; by a current of wind it was in some cases prevented reaching above the lowest extremities of the body. Some were thus kept in torture for an hour or two, and were actually roasted, not burnt to death." He also adds that such a sight was witnessed by both sexes with marks of joy and satisfaction. This was not because they were cruel naturally, but it was through their zeal for their religion! Can such religion be that of the Lord Jesus?
The Jews and the Moors in Spain.
One of the dark pictures of the Inquisition is the expulsion of the Jews from Granada in Spain. The Moors, while still in possession of this place, were marked out as victims; but it was thought best to commence with the Jews. An order was obtained from the king of Spain—professedly given reluctantly—that all Jews should become Christians or be banished from the country. Both the king and the Inquisitor wanted money, and here was a rich harvest ready for them.
The charge was that the Jews perverted Christians by their superstition, and idle tales were circulated as to the Jews profaning some of the sacred wafers of the Mass.
Four months were given to the Jews to decide what they would do, and to sell their property if they would not become Christians; but it was cunningly added that they must not carry away " gold, silver, money, or other articles prohibited by the laws of the country."
Rabbi Abarbanel, well known to Hebrew scholars, and much respected and formerly employed by the king himself, sought an interview with the king and queen (Ferdinand and Isabella) at the Alhambra. He implored pity on his nation, and offered to lay down as ransom six hundred thousand crowns of gold. Time after time he came and on his knees besought them: “Regard us, O king, use not thy servants so cruelly. Why do thus to thy servants? Rather exact from us our gold and silver, and all that the house of Israel possesses, if we may remain in the country."
It is said that the queen exhorted the king to resist the appeal. Years before she had tried to convert the Jews to Romanism, and now her heart seemed hardened against them.
The king indeed seemed disposed to yield. An offer of so much money was a temptation. He could keep all that would be given in this way, whereas if it came to confiscation, he would only get a share of the spoil.
But the inquisitor, Torquemada, was on the watch. He rushed into the room, and holding up a crucifix, shouted out, "Judas sold the Son of God once for thirty pieces of silver: your highnesses are going to sell Him the second time for thirty thousand. Here He is! Here you have Him! Sell Him if you will!" And then, flinging the crucifix on the table, he left the room in a rage. The Inquisition conquered.
Such Christian sovereigns could not be unfaithful to the church. The Jews must be expelled.
Torquemada lost no time in carrying out the edict. Preachers were sent over the country offering baptism to the Jews, or, on their refusal, Christians were forbidden to hold any intercourse with them or give them shelter.
An eye-witness thus describes their distress. "Within the term fixed by the edict the Jews sold and disposed of their property for a mere nothing. They went about begging Christians to buy, but found no purchasers. Fine houses and estates were sold for trifles. A house was exchanged for an ass, and a vineyard given for a little cloth or linen. Although forbidden to carry away gold or silver, they secretly took large quantities in their saddles, and in the halters and harness of their loaded beasts ... ..They
experienced great trouble and suffered indescribable misfortunes on the roads and country they travelled; some falling, others rising; some dying, others coming into the world; some fainting, others attacked with illness; so that there was not a Christian who did not feel for them, and entreat them to be baptized." All their synagogues were left, and these were turned into places for the Mass, without any compensation.
In some respects the treatment of the Moors was more unjust than that of the Jews; for at the surrender of Granada the religion of the Moors was not to be interfered with. It was really the Inquisition which eventually caused the king to break the treaty.
Don Fray Hernando was desirous to see the Moors converted. He was willing to give up a more lucrative office to live among them. His offer was accepted, and he was consecrated archbishop of Granada.
His gentle spirit and spotless life won the Moors. He caused the scriptures to be translated into Arabic for their use, and set to work to learn the language in his old age. The Mahometans heard him willingly, a few at a time being invited to private houses. And all things looked hopeful.
But such ways of spreading the gospel did not please those who surrounded the king and queen. The Moors must be converted at a faster rate, or banished from the country. The remaining king of the Moors must first be got rid of. He had retired to Alpujarra, as agreed, and lived in retirement. One day he was surprised by a visit from his representative, who came with mules laden with eighty thousand ducats. He was coolly told that his estates had been sold for this amount, and he was advised to leave the country with his wealth while he could. Treachery had brought all this about. Overwhelmed with grief, he left Spain.
The inquisitors now worked upon Ferdinand and Isabella to insist on conversion or emigration. This was contrary to the terms of the surrender, but the Romanists declared that it would not be breaking the compact, inasmuch as it would be giving the Moors something better—better for their souls!
The king hesitated, as well he might. He had hoped that the Moors would become Christians; but he had said they were to be instructed and were not to be oppressed on account of their religion. Influence now had to be brought to bear on the king and queen. Francisco Ximenez, archbishop of Toledo, visited the court at Granada and obtained a royal injunction to remain there and promote the great object in view, but was to use forbearance and guard against tumult. He eventually became head of the Inquisition in Spain, but it is not clear as to how far he was connected with that institution at the time he went to Granada.
His first work was to consult with the mild Hernando, and see what had been done. He was shewn the scriptures in the Arabic tongue, ready to be printed, as well as a version of the Missal, &c. Curiously, as it may seem to us, it is said that Ximenez thought that the Moors would despise Christianity if they understood it. Prayers in the known tongue must not be introduced, and he forbad the versions being printed!
He soon shewed how he could make converts. He invited some of their learned men to conferences, presenting them with a creed, and offered them freedom, rewards, and offices if they would accept the first elements of Christianity themselves, and then teach them to others. The plan was successful; in the mosques these learned men were heard advising the people to embrace Christianity. These efforts were quickly responded to, and in a short time Ximenez had three thousand of the Mahometans ready for baptism. He made them walk past him, and he sprinkled them with a bunch of hyssop as they passed!
Those who would not become Christian were persecuted, and many were arrested and imprisoned. At length, as one of his agents was leading away a woman to prison, the people were roused, the woman was rescued and the agent killed. Many now flew to arms, and besieged the Alhambra, where Ximenez took refuge, and he would soon have had to surrender. He was now glad of the services of the mild Hernando, who went to the armed men and was well received. They complained that the articles of capitulation had been violated, arrests had been made illegally, and the Koran burnt. By persuasion peace was restored.
Ferdinand and Isabella were alarmed, and justly blamed Ximenez. He hurried to court, and persuaded the king to treat Granada now as a revolting city, and annul all agreements.
In the meantime the Sultan sent an embassy, demanding that his brethren should not be forced into Christianity. The court gave assurance that there was no force used; but added, as Mahometans could not be loyal to a Christian king, the people must become Christians, or they would be sent over to Barbary. Every facility was offered them to sell their property, and royal ships were provided for their voyage. As the Sultan was still to be feared, these things were carried out, the Mahometans faring better than the poor Jews, who had no earthly power to protect them.
Great numbers chose to remain in the country, and were baptized; but were Christians only in name; and for years after they were hunted and persecuted by the Inquisition because they were not zealous Romanists.
For instance, a man, seventy-one years old, was arrested upon the accusation of a woman who had lived in his house years before—arrested because neither he nor his children ate pork nor drank wine, and on Saturday nights or Sunday mornings they used to wash their feet! These things were supposed to point out that he was really a Mahometan at heart. He declared that he was baptized when forty-five years of age; before that time he had never eaten pork nor drank wine and had no taste for either. Being a coppersmith by trade, it was needful to wash thoroughly once a week. He was released with a caution, but was arrested again, and made to witness the burning of others.
The Inquisitors continued their persecutions among the Moriscoes, as Christian Moors were called, until they were not only converted, as it was called, but dispersed into various parts of the country, no two families being together, so that they should become mixed with the inhabitants, and be entirely under the influence of the Roman religion.
We must not leave this part of the subject without relating that, in after years, the mild Hernando, though he became confessor to the queen, was himself accused by the Inquisition. His principles of moderation were hated, and his influence with the queen feared. Without doubt, he would have been condemned, but that his case was referred to the pope, who in a council absolved him. He had suffered three years of anxiety, and some of his relatives had been arrested. It is said that his name still stands on the Spanish Index of heretics!
Ximenez remained a violent persecutor, and carried on the enormities of the Inquisition with the utmost rigour.
The New Christians, as converted Jews were called, offered to the king six hundred thousand ducats of gold if he would abandon the secret action of the Inquisition, and allow the names of witnesses to be published. But Ximenez at once opposed it, offering also a large sum of money if the king would not yield. Again the Inquisition was victorious.
Ximenez did not forget that many had fled from Spain to avoid the Inquisition, and had taken refuge in the small state of Oran on the coast of Africa, living in a measure of peace and security. He fitted up ships and embarked at the head of fourteen thousand men, to exterminate the heretics, and soon returned victorious! What deeds for one who should have cared for and fed the flock of Christ; for he was still archbishop of Toledo. The Inquisition was established at Oran to deal with all fugitives for the future.
Again and again this man out stepped all bounds of moderation, and protests were frequently made to the king that he was usurping the place of the magistrates in civil causes as well as in church matters; and the king was compelled to check the violent priest as well as he could, for he really had but little power over the Inquisition.
At length Ximenez was made cardinal and head of the Inquisition in Spain, and, on the death of Ferdinand, was regent of Castile. He resisted the pope, and strove to revive the Inquisition into its full power; but was checked by Charles I (Charles V as emperor of Germany), and ordered to retire to his archbishopric, where, in enmity with the masses and ill at ease with the church, he died, being eighty years of age (November 8th, 1517).
This is the same Cardinal Ximenez who caused the Complutensian Bible to be printed at great cost. It included the Greek Testament—the first printed (but not the first published). This is to his honour, and has caused some to speak of him as the "learned, liberal, munificent Cardinal Ximenez de Cisneros."
On the other hand, it has been collated from the records that he added some 50,000 victims to those who suffered by the agency of the Inquisition! He is a remarkable instance of zeal, but not according to knowledge. What good such a man might have done had he known the ways of the Lord more perfectly, and have had the cause of Christ at heart, instead of serving so zealously the corrupt church of Rome.
Bartolomé Carranza.
God allowed some who had been prominent in enforcing the rules of the Inquisition to fall themselves under the same power. It was quite right that they should know by experience that which they had made others feel so forcibly. Bartolomé Carranza is a case in point. He was a learned man, filled a chair of philosophy, and also became doctor of theology, and was made examiner to the Inquisition at Valladolid.
Many a case had he examined and scrutinised; and for his zeal and learning was chosen preacher at many an 'Auto-de-Fé.’ He preached at the first burning in the city of Valladolid, and saw the patient triumph of a Lutheran over the fear of death, and heard his words, "Do you envy me my happiness?"
In the days of queen Mary of England, Carranza came to England, and labored incessantly, "convincing heretics and confirming waverers." He assisted also at the condemnation of Cranmer and Martin Bucer. How strange that such an one should himself be suspected of heresy!
He returned to Spain and was chosen archbishop of Toledo, the highest ecclesiastical dignity in Spain. This could but offend those who had hoped to fill that office. It was now called to remembrance that at the Council of Trent, Carranza had insisted that bishops should be compelled to reside in their dioceses. This, too, gave great offence, which was not soon forgotten.
The archbishop published some commentaries on the Apostles' Creed, Lord's Prayer, &c., and these were welcomed by all—except that some at once set to work to discover anything that could be found to condemn the writer. Some thought they could see traces of Lutheranism on the subject of Justification. Inquiries were now diligently made as to all that he had been heard to preach. One had heard him preach before the king in London, where he had spoken of justification by living faith, just as a Lutheran would have preached.
Others had heard him say that the sins of a Christian were as if they had never been, since Christ had made atonement for them all. He had also been heard to exhort the emperor Charles V when dying to trust to the merits of Christ, alone; charges one is glad to hear amid so much darkness.
We thus see incidentally that there was one here and there in the Romish church who knew and taught the way of salvation truly.
These sayings, with a few similar ones, were laid before the heads of the Inquisition, who resolved to proceed against the archbishop. The pope (Paul V) signed a brief to make him a prisoner. The king was appealed to, and he also assented, but asked that the archbishop's dignity should be respected. Carranza was informed by the king of the suspicions against him, but he seemed to expect nothing more than a severe censure.
It was not considered decent to arrest an archbishop at his palace, so the king requested his sister Juana, who governed Spain in his absence, to invite the archbishop to Valladolid, under the plea of meeting the king there. He was to come as soon as possible, without waiting for his usual cortege, and everything needed for his public appearance should be provided for him!
The archbishop set out on his journey, stopping at certain places to hold confirmations. Everything was allowed that would lull suspicion.
At Fuente del Sax, a friend called him aside and told him of the rumour that he was about to be arrested. He replied that it was incredible, for the princess herself had invited him. He could call God to witness that he had not fallen into error.
The archbishop had not proceeded far when he found the rumour was only too true: orders had been given for his arrest. If he had attempted to fly now, it would have been taken as a proof of guilt. More than a hundred men had been sworn in to assist if needful; so that escape would have been almost impossible.
At Tordelaguna he was allowed to fulfill his duties as archbishop, while those about to arrest him got all things ready. Rodrigo de Castro had taken the message from the princess and had travelled with him, and on Sunday night (August 27th, 1560 or 1561), after supping with the archbishop, had retired on the plea of fatigue. On finding all things were ready, he returned and bade the master of the house where the archbishop lodged to have all the doors unfastened by daybreak.
During the night the governor of the place, and other officials were arrested-none daring to resist the holy office-to prevent any attempt at rescue. They then proceeded to the residence of the archbishop; went upstairs, and knocked at the ante-room where an attendant friar slept.
“Who calls?" said the friar. "Open to the holy office," was the reply. The same reply was given at the archbishop's door. "Is Don Diego Ramirez there?" was asked (he was an inquisitor of Toledo). On being told that he was there, the door was at once opened.
Rodrigo entered first and begged the pardon of the archbishop.
Then the Alguacil (arresting officer) said, "Most illustrious senor, I am commanded by the holy office to make you prisoner," and an order was produced from the Inquisitor General.
The archbishop replied that he was subject to the pope and to no other person.
Don Diego stepped forward and produced the brief of the pope. On its being read, the archbishop at once surrendered himself a prisoner. During the next night he was set on a mule and brought to Valladolid.
Here they proceeded to examine him, but he refused to answer. He appealed to the pope. They produced the pope's brief; but that, he said, could not apply to him, for he was not in Spain at the time it was issued. That spoke of "archbishops or other prelates in Spain."
Delay followed delay, and in the meantime the council of Trent (which was sitting at the time) in spite of the protest of the king, appointed a commission to examine the commentaries of the archbishop, and they reported favourably of them. Indeed, it became a question of power-was the court of Rome to rule, or the king and the Inquisition?
At length the pope (now Pius V) ordered the prisoner to be sent to Rome. The inquisitors could not altogether resist this, but delayed it as long as they could, and actually required security for his re-appearance as their prisoner! He had been a prisoner six years and a quarter before he embarked for Rome, in April, 1567. Some inquisitors sailed with him, to make the most of their case before the pope and his council. But the pope died in 1572, leaving Carranza a prisoner.
Gregory XIII succeeded, and the case was again gone into, and at length the archbishop was (in April, 1576) set at liberty, after an imprisonment of some sixteen years. He abjured Lutheran articles, and then said Mass as a token of reconciliation with the church; but he was not restored as archbishop; indeed, he was now too old and infirm.
At Rome the Spanish inquisitors were to be seen standing behind the chairs of the cardinals, much mortified at the rebuff's they received; whereas in Spain they had reigned supreme, none daring to question a word they said, or anything that they did.
The story of Carranza gives a vivid picture of how those who abandon the path of truth and justice are at times made to feel the evils they bring to bear on others.
It is recorded that Gregory XIII placed an inscription over the tomb of Carranza, describing him as a prelate, " illustrious for his birth, his life, his doctrine, his preaching, and his charity." Whereas the Inquisition entered him in the Index of condemnation for his writings: an Index remarkable, inasmuch as it contains the name of Thomas Cranmer, placed there, it is believed, by Carranza himself, who little dreamt that one day his own name would be in the same Index.
In this case we also see a clear proof of the want of unity in the Romish church: one branch of it condemned a man as a heretic, and another branch declared his doctrine to be sound; and at the same time men, clothed with power, were using it in the most shameless way to carry out their own ambitious purposes. Of true Christianity there is not a trace in this persecution.
The Inquisition in India.
A short notice of the Inquisition in Travancore and Malabar must not be omitted, because of the Syrian Christians who were living there, and who claimed to have come from Antioch, and to have had a succession of bishops appointed from thence.
On the Portuguese arriving in the country they were surprised to find upwards of a hundred Christian churches; and, as the pope claimed universal supremacy, the Roman catholics said, "These churches belong to the pope;" but the Syrian Christians asked, "Who is the pope? we never heard of him."
They afterwards discovered that the Inquisition had been established at Goa, an island near by, and they could not be allowed to be Christians separated from Rome. A council was called, and one hundred and fifty of the Syrian clergy attended. They were charged with the following. "They had married wives they owned but two sacraments, baptism and the Lord's supper; they neither invoked saints nor worshipped images, nor believed in purgatory; and they had no other orders or names of dignity in the church than priest and deacon."
Rome could not allow such Christian simplicity as this, and all were ordered to abjure these things, or be suspended. Those near the sea coast reluctantly gave way, but refused to pray in Latin, and persisted in retaining their own language and liturgy. The pope gave way as to the language; and their liturgy, after being ‘amended,' was allowed. Those in the interior avoided as far as possible giving way to Rome, and maintained at least a measure of their simplicity.
Goa became a center of Roman Catholicism for India: it had its cathedral, numerous churches, and all the machinery connected with that false system. The Inquisition was in full operation, and existed till as late as 1812, when it was abolished by the request of the British government.
A Frenchman—M. Dellon—who was a prisoner of the Inquisition at Goa, having providentially escaped, published an account of the place of confinement, and of his sufferings. He had incurred the displeasure of a black priest and of a man in authority on the coast of Hindostan; and, having rather freely expressed himself on some of the gross superstitions of Romanism, was seized, put into irons, and shipped off to Goa.
It was January 16th, 1674, when he was led, with other prisoners, to the house of the Inquisition. His chains were taken off; and he was led into a room called "the board of the Holy Office." The Grand Inquisitor of the Indies sat at one end of a long table and a notary at the other.
Dellon, hoping to soften his judge, fell on his knees, but was told to rise. He was asked if he knew the reason of his arrest, and was advised to make a full confession as the only way to obtain an early release. Dellon caught at the idea of release, and told his tale, amid tears and protestations, and again fell on his knees. The Inquisitor rang a silver bell, and an attendant led Dellon away into a gallery, where his trunk was searched, and everything taken from him. He was then led to a cell about ten feet square, and left there by himself. In the evening he had his first meal, which he ate heartily, and afterwards fell asleep. In the morning he learnt that he could not have a book, not even a Breviary: there was no form of religion for those in the cells. His hair was cut short, so that "he did not need a comb."
The cells were arranged in galleries, and four warders were in each gallery. Each cell had two doors. The inner one was grated at the bottom, and open at the top, through which the food was passed. The outer door was opened from six in the morning until eleven (at night we suppose). This was needful in that country, unless it was intended to smother them.
The prisoners had three meals a day—a wholesome but spare diet; physicians attended to the sick; but no confessor attended to the dying: all were treated as heretics.
Silence was strictly enforced. If one of the prisoners dared to utter a cry or offered an audible prayer to God, the warder would run to his cell and beat him cruelly, that the others might fear.
Once in two months the Inquisitor, with a secretary and interpreter, would visit each cell, ask if the prisoner wanted anything, was his food supplied regularly, or had he any complaint against the warders; but woe to the prisoner who complained of the warders, for he was quite at their mercy afterwards. Notes were carefully taken of anything that could be used against the prisoners.
The prisoners were told that they could always have an audience by telling one of the warders. Dellon did thus several times, but had to wait fifteen days before it was granted. When in the presence of the Inquisitor, he was made to lay his hand on a Missal and swear to secrecy, and to tell them the truth. He told them all the unguarded expressions that he had used, as far as he could remember. The Inquisitor told him he had done well in accusing himself so willingly; exhorted him in the name of Jesus Christ to complete his accusation fully, that he might experience the goodness and mercy which that tribunal exercised towards those who shewed true repentance and unforced confession. His confession was read over to him, and he signed. Then he was led back to his dungeon.
In about a fortnight he was again examined. He was told to repeat the Paternoster, Hail Mary, the Creed, commandments of God, commandments of the church, and the Salve Regina. He did all this well, and to their satisfaction. He was then exhorted to confess more without delay, and then conducted back to his cell.
Now his heart sickened. What more could he confess when he had confessed all? In despair, he endeavoured to starve himself, but they forced him to take food. He shed tears day and night. At length he bethought himself of prayer, and he prayed earnestly to the blessed Virgin, who he had been taught was the most merciful and the most ready to send help.
At the end of a month he obtained another audience and confessed that he remembered speaking against the Inquisition; but he was told that this was not what they wanted, and he was sent back to his cell.
He was now filled with despair. He feigned sickness, and was bled several times, and each time dragged off the bandages when alone, in the hopes of bleeding to death. But death fled from him. A Franciscan came to confess him; who tried to comfort him, and begged the Inquisitor to let him have a fellow prisoner. A Negro, accused of magic, was sent as a companion; but after five months he was removed, when Dellon again fell into dire despair. He was found one day weltering in his blood and insensible. Restoratives were used, and his wounds bound up. On his restoration he was carried into the presence of the Inquisitor, and lying there—for he could not stand—he was reproached and then ordered to be put into irons. On this being tried, he became so furious that they were compelled to remove the fetters.
After this his examinations were different, for he defended his doctrines as a good catholic from quotations from the Council of Trent and from the scriptures; but this only discovered the ignorance of the Inquisitor. That dignitary had never heard of the scripture that Dellon quoted to prove, as he thought, the doctrine of baptismal regeneration: "Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." Nor was he acquainted with a passage in the decrees of the Council of Trent which declares that images are only to be reverenced on account of the persons whom they represent. The Inquisitor called for a Bible and a copy of the Acts of the Council, and was surprised to find that the passages quoted were actually there.
After a time the monotony and silence of the prison were changed; for now Dellon heard every morning the shrieks of persons under torture, and he afterwards saw many of them, both men and women, who had been lamed or distorted by the rack.
On Sunday, January 11, 1676—he had now been there two years-he was surprised by the warder declining to receive his linen to be washed, as was usual. He also heard the cathedral bell rung for vespers and matins, which was also unusual. He wondered what was about to happen. They brought him his supper, but he refused it; and to his surprise, instead of insisting that he must have it as usual, they took it away.
He had repeatedly been threatened when before the Inquisitor that he should be burnt, and now he feared that the time had come. He gave himself up for lost, but about midnight he fell asleep.
He had not slept long before he was roused by the noise of an attendant and some warders. They brought a lamp, the first that had shone in that cell since he had been there, and some clothes. He was told to dress himself in the clothes, and be ready when wanted. He put on the trousers and vest—black, striped with white—and with bare feet walked out when called.
He was one of about two hundred victims who were made to sit on the floor in a long gallery dismally lighted up by a few lamps. A number of women were also sitting in another gallery. All were filled with the deepest gloom, none knowing what their fate would be.
In a room not far distant Dellon saw another company, differently dressed, among whom were confessors walking.
About four o'clock servants and warders came and offered bread and figs to the victims. Dellon refused to have any; but the man advised him to have some, saying, "Take your bread; and if you cannot eat it now, put it in your pocket; you will certainly be hungry before you come back." Come back! those words thrilled and cheered him somewhat; for he judged now that he was not to be burnt!
A little before sunrise, the great bell of the cathedral began to toll, and the people of the place ran to see the procession and to line the streets. When it became daylight, and Dellon could see his fellow prisoners, he distinguished about a dozen Europeans among them: the rest were natives of India.
As they approached the door their names were read out, and one of the chief inhabitants of the place was called to attend each prisoner as sponsor. “The General of the Portuguese ships in the Indies " placed himself beside Dellon.
The procession wended its way to the church of St. Francis, the sharp flint stones of the roads cutting many a wound in the feet of the pilgrims. Some were now seen to be dressed differently, their garments being covered with painted flames and devils—these were doomed to be burnt.
A sermon was preached by the provincial of the Augustines. Dellon noted only one sentence of the sermon. It compared the Inquisition to Noah's ark, which had received all sorts of beasts wild, but had sent them out tame! Whatever the poor victims had been before their imprisonment, there could be no doubt as to their being tame now!
The sermon over, the names of the prisoners were read over, with their accusations and their punishments. Dellon's indictment was that he had maintained the invalidity of the baptismus flaminis, or desire to be baptized when there was no one to administer the rite. He had said that images ought not to be adored; and he had called an ivory crucifix a piece of ivory. He had spoken contemptuously of the Inquisition; and above all he had an ill intention. His punishment was a confiscation of his property, banishment from India, and five years' service in the galleys in Portugal, with such penance as the Inquisitor might enjoin.
Dellon's sponsor, who would not speak to him before, now embraced him and called him brother.
On this occasion there were but two to be burnt alive, and four dead bodies (strangled before being burnt, is supposed), and some effigies of the dead; all convicted of heresy must be burnt.
Dellon was sent to Lisbon and worked in a gang of convicts; but by the intervention of the French government he was liberated.
We fear Dellon was not a Christian, and was apparently a fair sort of catholic. He would no doubt never have been molested if he had not, at the first, incurred the hatred of those in authority. But alas! what sort of shepherds were they who could treat such a one in this way! And surely such treatment would have the tendency to make men hate a religion that could only carry on its warfare by the dungeon, the torture, and the flames.
His treatment, bad as it was, was really mild in comparison to what others had to endure. If a catholic was served in this way, how would a simple believer have been treated, who could not have repeated the Hail Mary, &c.!
In the case of M. Dellon the French authorities were not so prompt as they might have been; being catholics, they were perhaps loth to interfere with what the heads of their own religion were doing. Not so the English; for in the seventeenth century, when the English had but some factories in India, the following case occurred.
A Capuchin missioner, named Father Euphrem, arrived at Madras on his way to Pegu, and the English requested him to remain at Madras. They promised him entire liberty in respect to the Roman religion, and to preach and minister to the catholics already settled there. He agreed, and formed an establishment which was afterwards protected by the English Company.
In a sermon this father pointed out the great difference between the worship that should be rendered to the Sovereign Creator, and the honour paid to Mary, who is but a creature. Thereupon some Portuguese accused him before the Inquisition at God of having preached against the Mother of God!
The Jesuits, who were secretly Inquisitors also, managed very cleverly to seize the preacher and carry him off to Goa, distant from Madras about two hundred leagues, where he was soon imprisoned in one of the cells.
The English, justly shocked at such a proceeding, undertook to release him. One of their vessels dropped anchor off Goa, and eight or ten determined fellows, well armed, presented themselves at the gate of the Inquisition. Two of them kept guard at the gate, and the others, sword in hand, boldly demanded the Inquisitors to give up instantly Father Euphrem, or they would run them through. He was quickly set at liberty, and carried back to Madras.
In 1808, Dr. Buchanan visited Goa, and found the Inquisition was in existence there, and victims still being persecuted. He was not allowed to visit their dungeons, and his presence was evidently not desirable. He showed the Inquisitor the above account by M. Dellon, and the Inquisitor could not but own its general accuracy.
But how refreshing to find amid the profound gloom of the dark ages that there was at Malabar and its neighbourhood a company of Christians who had never heard of the pope, and who had maintained, at least to a great extent, the purity and simplicity of Christianity.
Spanish America.
In A.D. 1501 pope Alexander VI made a pecuniary concession to Ferdinand and Isabella, on consideration that it was their desire "to acquire and recover the islands and countries of the Indies"—South America included—"in order that in them, every condemned sect being cut down, the Most High might be worshipped and revered."
This was followed by "Inquisitors of the Indies and islands of the ocean” being appointed. The Christians in America were not simply fugitives from Europe; many of the natives had been compelled by the Spaniards to be baptized. Of course they were Christians in name only, and still held their heathen feasts when able to do so. On the Inquisition interfering, many of these natives withdrew, renounced Christianity, and joined other native tribes.
The Spanish viceroys had to write home and declare that the place was being ruined by the interference of the Inquisition with the natives, and orders were now sent that the Inquisitors were to deal only with Europeans and their descendants.
This was very galling to the zealous Inquisitors, and they appealed to Philip II of Spain, who had feasted his eyes on the martyrdoms in England and in Spain. In reply, he ordered that the Inquisition should now have more settled stations. One was installed in Panama (June, 1569), another at Lima (January, 1570), and another at Mexico (August, 1570), with substations in other places.
In 1574, the year that the conqueror of Mexico, Hernan Cortes, died, the first Auto de Fé was held at Mexico with all the pomp available, An Englishman and a Frenchman were burned as impenitent Lutherans. Eighty others were at the same time otherwise punished.
Doubtless many who were persecuted in Europe for their faith, cast their eyes to the various colonies as places of refuge; but every precaution was taken by Spain that no such refugees should be found in her colonies. Thus Philip III ordered: "That no one newly converted to our holy faith, from being Moor or Jew, or his child, shall pass over into our Indies without our express license." He also ordered, "that no one who has been reconciled, nor the child or grandchild of any one who has publicly worn a sambenito [garment of the condemned], nor the child nor grandchild of a person burnt or condemned as a heretic.... shall pass over to the Indies, under penalty of loss of goods.... and his person to be placed at our mercy, to be perpetually banished from our Indies; and if he have no property, let them give him one hundred lashes publicly."
Jews were in no way spared by the Inquisition. In a volume published at Mexico, the Inquisitors say they had "celebrated two particular Acts of Faith in the past years, 1646 and 1647, in which, with all attention and good order, were despatched, and went forth to public theatre, seventy-one causes; the greater part of them Jews, observant of the dead and detestable law of Moses!" In 1648 another Act of Faith was held, in which twenty-eight persons were marched to church to be preached to, and then taken back to prison; "and the day following the justice of lashes was executed;" the Inquisitors looking forward to "a more numerous and general Act, for exultation and glory of our holy Catholic faith, punishment and warning of her enemies, edification and instruction of the faithful."
Many painful incidents are recorded. Let one suffice. A Frenchman, Louis Ramé, relates that he saw fourteen protestant European officers taken into custody at Vera Cruz by the Inquisitors. They were solicited to deny their faith. Five who refused were carried to the stake, strangled and burnt. Nine endeavoured to purchase life by renouncing their religion. They were baptized, flattered, and feasted publicly the next day; but on the evening of that same day the perfidious Inquisitors ordered them all to be hanged. Eight died on the scaffold, but the rope broke of the ninth—one, John Morgan—and he escaped. This was declared to be a miracle wrought by God to prove that he was "a good Catholic!"
An extract from a brief of pope Clement XI, dated August, 1709, respecting the word of God, must not be omitted. It was directed to the Inquisitor-general of Spain.
"It has come to the knowledge of our apostleship, that the Holy Bible, translated into an American dialect, has lately been printed in the city of London, according to the depraved doctrine and corrupt sense of Protestants, under whose care and management it is brought to light, for the purpose of being circulated in America. Now if the circulation takes effect, as the heretics desire, it is easy to conjecture what danger will be done to the faithful, to whom the food of holy scripture, sprinkled and infected with much poison, shall be presented under the name of spiritual nourishment ... ..Resolve then that nothing shall be left undone by you that may be necessary to cut short the circulation of depraved books of this kind in America, where not even importation of them should be allowed, lest they be circulated among the faithful."
Thus did Rome seek to exterminate everything that differed from it, and not in Europe only, but in India and South America, doing all it could to hinder the circulation of God's word, which, as we have seen, was too pure a light to be endured by those who loved darkness, yea, even the gross darkness of the dark ages.
God did not allow the above state of things in the South-west to continue. The people longed to be free from the thraldom in which they were held; and though civil and political freedom may have been the chief aim of many, God overruled it to deliver the inhabitants from the power of Rome.
The people clamoured for independence; but the Romish clergy expended the wealth of their churches to keep up the link with old Spain. Ammunition was stored in the houses of priests and bishops, but only to fall into the hands of the inhabitants: and soon the clergy had to fly for their lives; one died, in consequence of his sufferings, in banishment; another had to flee through deep forests and trackless wilds; one lost his reason; another was in prison. Strange reverses for those who had lived in luxury, and had reigned as kings. Mexico rebelled against the viceroy in 1816, and gained its independence in 1821.
Thus did God take from Spain those colonies, from which she, with Rome, sought to keep the holy scriptures, and in which they desired only the supremacy of their false religion, destroying by their prisons and the stake all who would not sanction their pretensions.
The Inquisition Abolished.
To complete our sketch, we add a few words on the abolishing of the Inquisition, though it falls beyond our appointed date.
Napoleon Bonaparte had carried his victories into Spain, and entered Chamartin, a village about a league from Madrid. He established his head-quarters there, and sent his troops to take the capital, and to demand the submission of all public bodies. The Inquisition alone refused. Napoleon wrote on a slip of paper to arrest the Inquisitors, abolish the Inquisition, and sequestrate the revenue. Some escaped, and others were arrested and carried prisoners to Bayonne. Thus was accomplished by the stroke of the pen what some of the best kings of Spain would gladly have done, had they had the power.
Attempts were afterwards made to re-establish the Inquisition, and it was in a measure restored; but it never re-gained its former power. True members of the Roman catholic church declared it to be inconsistent with the liberties of the people.
The Inquisition was strongest in Spain, Portugal, and Italy. In other places, including England, it was never really established, and as the dark ages passed away before the light of the Reformation, it became extinct everywhere—perhaps lasting the longest in Italy. The date given for the last person burnt by the Inquisition is 1781, though its power was not abolished till 1820.
It has been attempted to show that among all religions there has been persecution, and in a measure this is true. Protestantism is certainly not free from the charge. But while this is true, it is also certain that in no other religion was there such a system of injustice, tyranny, and secret persecution as existed in the Inquisition, nor anything approaching to it. We have given a few instances of the way in which it was worked, and of some who fell under it. The way in which its victims were tortured—with distinct rules as to how far this was to go for both males and females, often little short of death—is far too dreadful to find a place in our pages. And all this is not what is said of it by its enemies, but what may be gathered from the rules laid down by the various heads of the Inquisition for their subordinates.
If any one still asks for a proof of the existence of "Dark Ages," let the Inquisition be pointed to as one of the darkest blots on that which called itself the church of Christ. Discipline must of course be exercised in the church, and a wicked person must be put out; but how contrary is the conduct of the Inquisition, in taking men's lives, to the rebuke of our Lord to His disciples, who asked if they should call down fire from heaven to consume the Samaritans who would not receive our Lord on His way to Jerusalem: "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them." (Luke 9:5656For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them. And they went to another village. (Luke 9:56).) How true as to the period we are considering is God's sentence on this spiritual Babylon: “In her was found the blood of prophets, and of saints, and of all that were slain upon the earth." Dire will be the fall of that system, and sore the punishment of its leaders.