In the second place, the tribunal was strong in having the support of the secular authority as well as of the papacy behind it. Thirdly, it became widespread in western Christendom, so that flight was a doubtful salvation. It seemed ubiquitous, because the mutual co-operation between inquisitors of different districts, and indeed countries, was highly organized. It seemed all-pervading because of its apparent omniscience, due to the extensiveness of its records and the thoroughness of its spy system. The victim, in short, was made to feel his helplessness before a power which seemed as strong and inexorable as fate.
The Inquisition owed much to the character of its judges. They were, at any rate, enthusiastic and hard-working. The half-hearted inquisitor was of rare occurrence. They were often ardent with the fiery and formidable zeal of fanaticism, believing themselves servants of God and surrounded by that aureole of sanctity, which gave their court the name and reputation of the Holy Office. Often, beyond question they were cruel; but, on the other hand, it is necessary to beware against accepting the traditional idea of the inquisitor as typical. In the Middle Ages, when he flourished, the inquisitor was not popularly regarded as a man destitute of human sympathy, an ogre; he was regarded, on the contrary, with veneration. Often he was a man of high intellectual attainments; practically always he must have been educated and learned much beyond the ordinary; he had studied in school and university and was a theologian, if not also something of a philosopher and a lawyer. Often too he was the most upright and honourable of men; and it is plain that men like Bernard Gui and Nicholas Eymeric had the highest sense of their responsibilities and the loftiest ideals for their fulfilment. Bernard Gui gives us a sketch of the ideal inquisitor. He is a man ardent in the faith; never slothful, yet not precipitate; never timid, but always cautious; never credulous, but ever ready to listen; resolute for truth and justice, yet merciful and compassionate; careful in his sentences that no ground shall be given for the charge of cruelty or rapacity.[353]
The inquisitor was a much privileged person, enjoying a plenary indulgence during the whole period of office, and he could only be excommunicated by the direct authority of the Pope. In every way he was under the panoply of special papal favour and protection. He had the right of granting indulgences—this being mainly used to encourage or reward witnesses and informants against heretics.[354] Privilege was also extended to all assistants of the Holy Office.
The assistants were numerous, consisting of delegates, often called vicars, socii, familiars, notaries, councillors, prison officials and simple messengers and other servants. To this list should be added the ordinary curés, whose services might be utilized to publish citations, make known the sentences of the tribunal, give testimony for or against their own parishioners.
The delegates were assistants of the inquisitors; to them was generally entrusted the task of asking preliminary questions and hearing witnesses, the rôle of a juge d’instruction. They thus relieved the inquisitors of most of the burden of the initial and formal proceedings; but they were strictly subordinates, their powers being carefully stated in their commissions, and they were, as a rule, appointed only for a particular cause and definite period. On the other hand, they might take the inquisitor’s place in case of his illness or absence from any other unavoidable cause.
The socius was not, as his name seems to imply, a colleague, but only a companion, who merely accompanied the inquisitor on his journeyings in that capacity, and discharged no official functions, save that he might occasionally give informal advice.
The familiar, a most important and distinctive personage of the tribunal, might come from any class of society and usually came from men who lived in the world. A recluse was of no use for the duties the familiar had to perform. But once having adopted the calling (valued on account of its ecclesiastical privileges), the familiar became a member of a quasi-religious brotherhood. His duties were various. A personal guard for the inquisitor had to be provided. The inquisitors had the right of arming familiars for this purpose, though the Council of Vienne of 1311 recommended that the number of familiars should be kept down to the minimum and that the right of arming them should not be abused.[355] Familiars also visited prisons, and at autos-da-fé had to accompany the condemned and the penitent, exhorting them to unfeigned repentance, and encouraging them to submit to the punishments inflicted upon them. Lastly, and most important, the familiars were secret agents, and were as a rule remarkably efficient spies.
Another important officer was the notary. He was quite indispensable. The number of men qualified to fill the post, in days when writing was not a widely diffused accomplishment, was far from large; and the position grew to be one held in high esteem and much sought after. The notary’s main duty was to take down interrogatories and answers, and to keep the register of them. First of all he would take down rough notes and afterwards he would make a fair copy on a parchment for permanency. As the questions were put in the vernacular and the register kept in Latin, he had to be a translator as well as a clerk. His task was so heavy that in some cases he was given the help of scriveners; but every document had to bear his signature. It would be impossible to exaggerate the significance of this careful recording of evidence in the work of the Inquisition. All the papers were sedulously kept; often they were carefully indexed and annotated. In course of time the registers came to form a wonderful repository of information, which was of immense assistance to the tribunal.
As an illustration of how the careful preservation of exact and minute particulars of cases promoted the success of the Holy Office may be taken the case of an old woman apprehended in 1316. From the records it was ascertained that the same woman had as far back as 1268 confessed heresy and been reconciled. This discovery showed that the prisoner was already a relapsed heretic.[356] The meticulous transcription of some casual and apparently irrelevant remark made by a witness in one case might lead to the arrest of an unsuspecting citizen on the charge of heresy in quite a different part of the world years afterwards.