Appointment of the Inquisitors in Spain—their extensive privileges—procedure of the tribunal of the "Holy Office"—eagerness of the Inquisitors to preserve secrecy in all their transactions—prisons of the Inquisition—examination of a culprit—artifice and injustice practised by the judges to induce a person to criminate himself—striking example of their duplicity and barbarity.

Having thus seen the complete establishment of the Inquisition in Spain, before proceeding further in its history, we shall give an outline of the mode of procedure in the "Holy Office," together with some account of the officers belonging to that infamous tribunal. At the head of the Inquisition in Spain, stands the Inquisitor-general. This high officer is appointed nominally by the king, but in reality by the Pope, for the Holy See enjoys the privilege of a veto on the election of the sovereign. The supreme Inquisitor cannot proceed one step in the discharge of his office, till he has received the confirmation of the Sovereign Pontiff. When thus elected and confirmed, the Inquisitor-general appoints the subordinate Inquisitors, but in this last instance, the nomination of the supreme Inquisitor is subject to the review of the king. So high in dignity is the Inquisitor-general esteemed by the Romish Church, that he enjoys the title of "most reverend," a title which places him on an equal footing with bishops.

The privileges of the Inquisitors are many and valuable. They are not subject to the bishops of the provinces where they reside, or to the superiors of the religious orders to which they belong. They alone can publish the edicts against heretics; they can excommunicate, interdict, and suspend; and, except in a few cases which are distinctly specified, they can prevent the ordinaries or resident bishops from absolving those whom they have subjected to the censure of the Church. They may apprehend heretics, though they take refuge in churches; make statutes, and increase the punishments on those who violate them; grant indulgences of twenty or forty days; and give full pardon of sins to all their officers who die in their service. "Whoever, by himself or others, shall kill, beat, or strike any of the Inquisitors, or the officials of the holy office, or who shall injure or damage their effects, shall be delivered over to the secular power."

With a few exceptions, the Inquisitors may proceed against all persons whatsoever, both among the clergy and the laity. Bishops, priests, and friars, nay, princes and kings, must be subject to this extraordinary tribunal. Persons of every age and condition, and of both sexes, may be cited as witnesses, in the causes which it takes up. We have a striking example of this in the citation of Joan, daughter of the Emperor Charles V., before that tribunal, to give evidence in a case where a person was accused of holding doctrines contrary to the faith. So great was the awe with which this court inspired the superstitious emperor, that he commanded his daughter without delay to obey the summons, in order to avoid the sentence of excommunication. She accordingly appeared before the Inquisitor-general on the day appointed, and gave her evidence in the case under consideration.

The Inquisitors of Spain and Portugal, especially, pretend to have jurisdiction over the subjects of other kings. Of this we have a remarkable example in the case of Thomas Maynard, consul of the British nation in Lisbon, under the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, who was imprisoned in the Inquisition under pretence of having spoken something against the Romish faith. M. Meadows, who at that period took care of the English affairs at Lisbon, informed Cromwell of the imprisonment of the consul, and having received instructions from the Protector, he obtained an audience of the king of Portugal, and, in the name of Cromwell, demanded the liberation of Maynard. The king, however, informed him, that this was not in his power—the consul being detained by the Inquisition, over which he had no authority. This answer was transmitted by Meadows to Cromwell; and, having shortly afterwards received new instructions, he informed the king, that, seeing his majesty had no power over the Inquisition, he was commanded by the Protector immediately to declare war against it. This unexpected declaration so alarmed both the king and the Inquisitors, that they immediately gave Maynard liberty to leave the Inquisition. But, scorning to accept of a private dismission, the consul compelled the Inquisitors, in order to repair the injury done to his character, to give him an honourable acquittal. Very few, however, are the individuals who thus escape out of the hands of these tyrants.

The Inquisitors can prevent cognizance being taken of any particular matter, may order any process to be stopped, and may bring before themselves any cause, at what ever stage of the proceedings. They can further modify and alter all sentences of condemnation, in the terms they may think proper. Nay, they even possess the character of legislators, being authorized to interpret the canon law, in matters relating to the government of the court. They may also compel the governors of cities to swear that they will defend the Church against heretics, and to extirpate all who are denounced heretics by the Church. And for the better apprehending of heretics, as well as for their own safety, they may arm both themselves and their attendants. "Even in exterior pomp and parade," says Puigblanch, "the supreme chief of the Inquisition emulated kingly power and ostentation, both within and without his tribunal. It is well known that Torquemada, in his journeys, either because he was influenced by fear, or sought to infuse it, carried about with him fifty familiars on horseback, and two hundred on foot. A penitent by profession—for this is the real definition of a friar—bearing about with him arrogance and terror wherever he went! In the service also of the Inquisitor-general, and of his tribunal, the grandees of the most distinguished pedigree have been employed; indeed, they have not disdained to accept the title and duties of bailiff. Even the Cortes of the kingdom have had to yield to his predominant authority."

Besides the Inquisitor-general, there are five counsellors, who have the title of Apostolical Inquisitors. These counsellors deliberate upon all affairs with the Inquisitor-general, settle disputes among the particular Inquisitors, punish the familiars attached to the institution, and receive appeals. These officers, together with an advocate-fiscal, two secretaries, a treasurer, accountant, reporters, bailiffs, and qualificators, constitute the supreme council, or high court of the Inquisition in Spain. The provincial tribunals have three and sometimes four Inquisitors of the secular clergy, and a number of other officers bearing the same names, and occupying the same stations, as those attached to the supreme council.

In regard to the mode of procedure before the tribunal of the holy office, it must be kept in mind, that the Inquisitors not only encourage, but compel, by their threatenings and excommunications, every class of the community to become informers, or accusers of all whom they suspect of holding heretical tenets. Informations are consequently received, without any respect to the character of the persons by whom they are given. Thieves and cheats, prejudiced persons, the nearest relatives, and even children, are not only allowed, but invited to inform: while the names of the accusers and witnesses are uniformly kept hidden from the unhappy individual who is thus denounced to the holy office. "Their form of proceeding," says Voltaire, "is an infallible way to destroy whomsoever the Inquisitors wish. The prisoners are not confronted with the accuser or informer. Nor is there any informer or witness who is not listened to. A public convict, a notorious malefactor, an infamous person, a common prostitute, a child, are in the holy office, though nowhere else, credible accusers and witnesses. Even the son may depose against his father, the wife against her husband. This procedure, unheard of till the institution of this court, makes the whole kingdom tremble. Suspicion reigns in every breast. Friendship and quietness are at an end. The brother dreads his brother, the father his son."

There are three ways in which the process may begin before the Inquisitorial courts. First, by investigation, where the Inquisitor summons certain individuals into his presence, and inquires into the state of the town or district where they reside. Secondly, by accusation, where a direct charge of heresy is brought before the court, against one or more persons distinctly named. Thirdly, by denunciation, where the Inquisitor is merely informed, that certain heretical persons, or persons suspected of heresy, who are likewise distinctly named, exist within the limits of his jurisdiction. The last is by far the most common mode, and it is that which the Inquisitors are most desirous to encourage Nor is it difficult to perceive the reason, seeing the denunciator does not bind himself to prove the charge he prefers, and is under no apprehension of punishment.

When the information has been lodged, the following questions are usually proposed: Whether the informer knows the person suspected of heresy, and if so, how long he has known him? Whether he has said or done the things imputed to him oftener than once? and whether in jest or in earnest, and in whose company those things were said or done? The answers to these and similar questions, are written down by the notary, and read over to the informer, who either subscribes them, or puts under them the mark of the cross. He is then sworn to secrecy. "His name, his personal appearance, the place of his abode, and every other circumstance respecting him, are studiously concealed by the Inquisitors, lest the practice of informing should be discouraged; and having once put the court in possession of the requisite intelligence, he drops away entirely from the view, and is never again mentioned, and, if possible, is never again referred to, in the whole course of the process. Thus does this odious tribunal, called by an abuse of language the Holy Office, in the very first step of its judicial procedure, afford to the most infamous the pleasure of gratification with the certainty of concealment, and provide an opportunity for indulging the worst feelings and passions of our nature—personal malice, envy, and revenge."

Nay, not only are informers and witnesses sworn to secrecy; every individual connected with the Inquisition, from the highest rank to the keeper of the jail, must take a similar oath; and strict watch is kept on all their movements. A striking example of the rigour with which all are treated who deviate in the smallest degree from this Inquisitorial injunction, is given by Gonsalvius Montanus, in the following narrative: "One Peter ab Herera," says he, "a man not altogether vile, but of some humanity, and not very old, was appointed keeper of the tower of Triana, which is the prison of the Inquisition. It happened, as it often doth, in such numerous and promiscuous imprisonments, that among other prisoners committed to his custody, there was a certain good matron, with her two daughters who were put in different cells, and earnestly desired the liberty of seeing one another, and comforting each other in so great a calamity. They therefore earnestly entreated the keeper, that he would suffer them to be together for one quarter of an hour, that they might have the satisfaction of embracing each other. He being moved with humanity and compassion, allowed them to be together, and talk with one another, for half an hour; and after they had indulged their mutual affections, he put them as they were before, in their separate prisons. A few days after this they were put with great cruelty to the torture; and the keeper being afraid, that through the severity of their torments, they should discover to the lords, the fathers Inquisitors, his small humanity in suffering them to converse together for half an hour without the Inquisitor's leave; through terror went himself to the holy tribunal, and of his own accord confessed his sin, and prayed for pardon; foolishly believing, that by such his confession, he should prevent the punishment that threatened him for this action. But the lords Inquisitors judged this to be so heinous a crime, that they ordered him immediately to be thrown into jail, and such was the cruelty of his treatment, and disorder of mind that followed on it, that he soon grew distracted. His disorder and madness did not, however, save him from a more grievous punishment. For after he had lain a full year in that cursed prison, they brought him out in the public procession, clothed with the yellow garment, and a halter about his neck, as if he had been a common thief; and condemned him first to receive two hundred lashes through the streets of the city, and then to be banished to the galleys for six years. The day after the procession, as he was carried from the prison to be whipped, his madness, which usually seized him every hour, came on him, and throwing himself from the ass, on which, for the greater shame, he was carried, he flew upon the Inquisitory alguazil, and snatching from him a sword, would certainly have killed himself, had he not been prevented by the mob who attended him, who set him again upon an ass, and guarded him till he had received the two hundred lashes according to his sentence. After this, the lords Inquisitors ordered, that as he had behaved himself indecently towards the alguazil, four years more should be added to the six for which he was at first condemned to the galleys."

When the tribunal judges that the words or actions which are denounced, are sufficient to warrant an inquiry, witnesses are cited, none of whom are informed of the subject on which they are to make depositions. They are only asked in general terms, "If they have ever heard or seen any thing which was, or appeared contrary to the Catholic faith, or the right of the Inquisition?" The consequence is, that sometimes circumstances foreign to the case in hand are recollected, and deposed to by the witnesses, which tend to criminate others, against whom new processes are immediately commenced! "When we speak of witnesses in Great Britain," says an eminent writer, "we almost unavoidably think of a charge regularly brought, the judges upon the bench, the jury sworn, the criminal apprehended, and in open court, the people admitted as auditors, and the whole judicial assembly feeling and acting under the assurance that they are responsible to an intelligent and watchful public, for every part of their proceedings. But, in the Inquisitorial tribunal, when the witnesses are summoned, the party accused has not even been taken into custody. He remains in his own house, and in the bosom of his family, engaged in his ordinary occupations, and entering, it may be, into the amusements of the place where he lives; utterly ignorant of all that has been done against him, and utterly unprepared for all that is to follow. In truth, the depositions of the witnesses are viewed, rather in connection with the charge, than with the issue, and relate not so much to the guilt or the innocence of the party accused, as to the sufficiency or insufficiency of the information. Like the informer, the witnesses are sworn to secrecy; their names and personal history are most industriously concealed; and there are instances upon record, where brothers and sisters have given evidence against brothers and sisters, where the wife has deposed against the husband, and the husband against the wife."

The next step, is the apprehension of the person accused. This is given in charge to the high bailiff, who executes his commission by carrying with him a competent number of officers, taking the precaution to surprise the unhappy victim, which is generally done at night. Not the slightest hint of insecurity is given, not a suspicion is breathed, till about midnight, a band of monsters calmly approach the residence of the accused and demand an entrance. [13] To the question, "In whose name is this required?" the answer is, "The Holy Office." "The thunderbolt, launched from the black and angry cloud," says Puigblanch, "strikes not with such alarm, as the sound of 'Deliver yourself up a prisoner to the Inquisition.' Astonished and trembling, the unwary citizen hears the dismal voice; a thousand different affections at once seize upon his panic-struck frame—he remains perplexed and motionless. His life, in danger, his deserted wife and orphan children, eternal infamy, the only patrimony that now awaits his bereft family, are all ideas which rush upon his mind—he is at once agitated by an agony of dilemma and despair. The burning tear scarcely glistens on his livid cheek, the accents of woe die on his lips, and amidst the alarm and desolation of his family, and the confusion and pity of his neighbours, he is borne away to dungeons, whose damp and bare walls can alone witness the anguish of his mind. "Here," continues the same elegant writer, "was usually confined the father of a family, perhaps his amiable wife, or tender daughter, the exemplary priest, or peaceful scholar; and in the meantime his house was bathed in tears, and filled with desolation. Venerable matrons and timid damsels have been hurried from their homes, and, ignorant of the cause of their misfortune, have awakened from the frenzy of the brain, and found themselves here alone, and helpless in a solitary cell. Here the manly youth, torn from his bewailing kindred, and often wrested from ties still more endearing, pines amidst damp seclusion and chill despair, and vainly invokes the names of objects which so lately thrilled him with pleasure. The dripping vaults re-echo the sighs of the aged father, no longer encircled by the fond endearments of a numerous progeny; all, in short, are condemned to drag existence amidst a death-like silence, and, as it were, immured from the sight of their weeping relatives."

The prisoners are confined in separate cells, which are not only small, but contain no other furniture except a wooden bed stead, a table, one chair, and sometimes none. There are usually two rows of cells, built over each other. The upper rows are lighted by means of a small iron grate, and the lower are perfectly dark. In each cell there are placed two pots of water, one to wash in, and the other to drink. The treatment of the prisoners varies according to their rank; their allowance sometimes amounting to no more than three half-pence or two pence a day. The under rows of cells are appropriated for heretics. There, in solitude and silence, they never see a human being except their keeper. Thus persons the most nearly related to each other, may be confined in contiguous cells without knowing it; and the merciless turnkeys are constantly on the watch, to prevent the utterance of any sound, lest it should occasion the discovery of some secret. If a person bemoans himself, or bewails his misfortune, or prays to God with an audible voice, he is instantly silenced. As persons may know one another by their cough, as well as by their articulate voice, no one is allowed even this expression of his misery, in the dungeons of the Inquisition. Limborch relates the following instance of such unheard of barbarity, which, he says, he had from several persons. "A prisoner in the Inquisition coughed; the jailers came to him, and admonished him to forbear coughing, because it was unlawful to make any noise in that house. He answered that it was not in his power to forbear. They admonished him, however, a second time, to forbear it, and because he did not, they stripped him naked, and cruelly beat him; this increased his cough, for which they beat him so often, that at last he died through the pain and anguish of his stripes!"

Very soon after the accused is conducted to the Inquisition, he is brought forth from his cell and examined. The place where he appears before the Inquisitors is called the table of the holy office. At the further end of it there is placed a crucifix, raised up almost as high as the ceiling. In the middle of the room stands a table, at the end of which, nearest the crucifix, sits the secretary or notary of the Inquisition. The culprit is brought in by the beadle, with his head, arms, and feet naked, and is followed by one of the keepers. His attendants conduct him to the door of the chamber of audience, which he enters alone, and is ordered to sit down on a bench at the other end of the table, directly opposite the notary. The Inquisitor sits on his right hand. On the table near the culprit lies a missal, or book of the Gospels, on which he is ordered to lay his hand, and swear that he will declare truth, and keep secresy.

He is then asked if he knows where he is, whether he is aware that he is within the walls of the Inquisition, and why it is that men are usually detained in the custody of the holy office. If he says that he cannot guess at the cause of his imprisonment, but knows that he is a prisoner in the holy office, where heretics or persons suspected of heresy are confined, he is informed, that seeing he knows that persons are confined there for their profanation of religion, he ought to conclude that he is confined for the same reason; and must therefore declare what he believes to be the cause of his apprehension and confinement in the prisons of the holy office. If he says he cannot imagine what it is, he is desired to recollect himself, to run over in his mind the events of his past life, and to search out and ascertain whether he may not, on some occasion, have said or done something contrary to the purity of the Catholic faith, and the authority of the Inquisition. If he still persists in maintaining his ignorance, he is informed that every degree of mercy is shown towards those who confess, while the obstinate are treated with the utmost severity.

The prisoner is next obliged to declare his whole genealogy and descent, and to make known whether any of his ancestors, or himself, his brothers, wife, or children, had at any time previous been arraigned before the tribunal. These questions are put for the purpose of implicating the accused in a stronger manner, and to obtain possession of the property he may have inherited, by declaring the right of succession null and void, to the destruction, perhaps, of many families. Numerous other questions are asked, varied in every possible way, and every art of unrighteous investigation is tried; and if, after all, he still persists in declaring himself ignorant of any word or action that can be construed into heresy, he is informed, that he must be carried back to his dungeon, to aid his memory by reflection. This ceremony is performed three times, with some interval between each.

"The idea all this presents is," says Puigblanch, "that the court wishes the prisoner to confess, under the hope of being treated with greater kindness; but, without dreading the charge of temerity, and judging only from the strict nature of the process, I may venture to attribute to such a practice the highest refinement of the Inquisitorial test. At least it will not be denied that the prisoner is compelled to scrutinize every act and period of his life, till at last he hits on the cause of his impeachment. Scarcely recovered from the surprise caused by his arrest, and appalled by the contrast his imagination forms of the many and secret steps previously taken, compared with the state of security in which he lately lived, from that moment the prisoner begins to despair, and hopeless and dismayed, he already beholds the torment that awaits him. Bewildered, as in the mazes of a labyrinth, wherever he turns his eyes, some fresh object increases his pain, and adds to his anguish. Under the undoubted supposition, that in this abode of wretchedness, the appearance of the most officious charity conceals acts of the most insidious cruelty, he beholds no one who is not an enemy, and hears nothing that is not directed to his ruin. Secluded from every species of intercourse, if his keeper says any thing unconnected with the service of his person, it is to assure him that it will be much in his favour to confess according to the pleasure of the Inquisitors. If an attorney is allowed him, it is after he has sworn to use every exertion to induce his client to confess, and that he will abandon his defence from the moment he discovers his guilt. Thus is it that the prisoner has more to fear from his advocate than from the proctor of his enemies."

If, on the other hand, the prisoner knows the reason why he is apprehended, and happens to confess every thing of which he has been accused to the Inquisitor, he is commended, and encouraged to hope for a speedy deliverance. If he confesses some things, but cannot guess at others, he is also commended for having resolved to accuse himself, and exhorted, "by the bowels of mercy of Jesus Christ," to proceed, and ingenuously to confess every thing else of which he is accused, that he may experience that kindness and mercy which this tribunal uses towards those who manifest a real repentance of their crimes by a sincere and voluntary confession!

In these examinations, the Inquisitors have recourse to the meanest artifices, in order to draw from the prisoner a confession of those crimes of which he is accused, making great professions of sympathy, and numerous promises of favour, if he will but yield to their solicitations. By these flattering assurances, they sometimes impose on the unwary; and when they have gained their object, they forget their promises, and treat the unhappy objects of their deception with the utmost rigour. In proof of this, the following among other stratagems, drawn up by Nicholas Eymeric, Inquisitor-general of Arragon, about the middle of the fourteenth century, are submitted to the reader:—"When the prisoner has been impeached of the crime of heresy, but not convicted, and he obstinately persists in his denial, let the Inquisitor take the proceedings into his hands, or any other file of papers, and looking them over in his presence, let him feign to have discovered the offence fully established therein, and that he is desirous he should at once make his confession. The Inquisitor shall then say to the prisoner, as if in astonishment, 'And is it possible that you shall still deny what I have here before my own eyes?' He shall then seem as if he read, and to the end that the prisoner may know no better, he shall fold down the leaf, and after reading some moments longer, he shall say to him, 'It is just as I have said, why, therefore, do you deny it, when you see I know the whole matter?' When the Inquisitor has an opportunity, he shall manage so as to introduce to the conversation of the prisoner some one of his accomplices, or any other converted heretic, who shall feign that he still persists in his heresy, telling him that he had abjured for the sole purpose of escaping punishment by deceiving the Inquisition. Having thus gained his confidence, he shall go into his cell some day after dinner, and keeping up the conversation till night, shall remain with him, under pretext of its being too late to return home. He shall then urge the prisoner to tell him all the particulars of his life, having first told him the whole of his own; and in the meantime spies shall be kept at the door, as well as a notary, in order to certify what may be said within!!" All this needs no comment, it speaks for itself; and were it not given on the most unexceptionable authority, we could not but reject it as a fiction. But, alas! what the fanatical Eymeric taught has been too implicitly followed; and thus the procedure of a court, impiously called HOLY, is sufficient to put the most barbarous nations, nay devils themselves, to the blush.

Gonsalvius, for example, mentions a striking instance of the duplicity and cruelty of the lords of the Holy Office. "In the first fire that was blown up at Seville," says the author, "in 1558 or 1559, among many others who were taken up, were a certain pious matron, her two daughters, and her niece. Unable to effect his purpose by means of the torture, the Inquisitor ordered one of the daughters to be brought before him. Having discoursed with her for a considerable time, he pretended to feel the greatest affliction for her amidst her trials. All this, as the event showed, had only this tendency, that after he had persuaded the poor simple girl that he was really, and with a fatherly affection, concerned for her calamity, and would consult as a father, what might be for her benefit and salvation, and that of her relatives, she might throw herself upon his protection. After spending several days in such familiar discourses, during which he pretended to mourn with her over her sufferings, and to be affected with her miseries, adding innumerable promises of his desire to free her from them; when he perceived that he had deceived the girl, he proceeded to persuade her to discover all she knew, not only of herself, but of her mother, sisters, and aunts, protesting upon oath, that if she would faithfully reveal to him every particular, he would find out a method to relieve her from all her misfortunes, and to send them all back again to their homes. Possessed of no great penetration, the girl, allured by the promises and persuasions of this father of the holy faith, proceeded to inform him of some things relative to the doctrines which she had been taught, and concerning which they had been accustomed to converse with each other. Having now got hold of the thread, the Inquisitor dexterously enough endeavoured to find his way through the whole labyrinth—often calling the girl to audience, that what she had deposed might be taken down in a legal manner; and always persuading her that this would be the only just means to put an end to all her evils. But when the poor girl expected the performance of his numerous promises, the Inquisitor, finding the success of his craftiness, by which he had in part drawn from her what before he could not extort by torments, determined again to put her to the torture, in order to force out of her what he imagined she had yet concealed. She was accordingly subjected to torture, both by the rack and water, till the Inquisitors had squeezed out of her, as with a press, both the heresies and accusations of the persons they had been hunting after; for, through the extremity of her torture, she accused her mother and sister, and several others, who were apprehended and tortured, and burnt alive in the same fire with the girl!"