A History of the Inquisition of Spain; vol. 2

by Henry Charles Lea

We have seen what was this mercy, in penitential processions and heavy amercements, and we shall see how illusory, in many cases, was the promised immunity, owing to the diminucion or imperfection of the confession. It was required to be full about themselves and others; the assumption necessarily was that they were genuine converts at heart and as such must be eager, not only to discharge their consciences as to all past errors, but to aid in the punishment of all heretics and apostates, including those nearest and dearest to them. Anything short of this showed that their confession was fictitious and thus it only added to their guilt. Ample evidence against them was obtainable, not only from informers who were numerous and active, but from the confessions of others, whether coming in under the edict or on trial. The tribunals were watchful in utilizing all this material, and reconciliation under the edict was apt to be supplemented by arrest and condemnation.

The confessions under the Edicts of Grace are pitiful reading. The poor creatures naturally admit as little as possible, in the hope of diminishing the pecuniary penance. They strive to extenuate their errors and throw the blame on those who misled them; they grovel before the inquisitors, profess the deepest contrition and promise strenuous perseverance in the faith. They rarely go out of their way to compromise others, but they frankly state who it was that perverted them and have no hesitation in implicating parents and kindred and benefactors. Unlike the priest in the confessional, the inquisitors abstained from interrogating them or seeking information about themselves or others. It was not their policy to stimulate confession and the penitent was allowed to state as much or as little as he chose. The results are evidently the unassisted work of the penitents, inconsistent, rambling, frequently almost unintelligible, whether written by themselves or taken down verbatim by the notaries, for it was essential that they should be of record, to be brought up against them, in the probable case of backsliding or of testimony to omitted facts. The confession of Maria Gonsales de la Panpana, Ciudad Real, October 9, 1483, may be taken as a specimen. In it she throws all the blame upon her husband and recites the thrashings received at his hands to force her to follow Jewish observances. She was duly admitted to reconciliation but, in about three months, she was arrested and tried and was burnt in the great auto de fe of February 23, 1484.[1349] The unsubstantial character of the mercy promised in the Edict of Grace is illustrated in the typical case of Andres González, parish priest of Talavera. Soon after the tribunal of Toledo had been organized and before there had been any proclamation in the archidiaconate of Talavera, he sought to protect himself by appearing before the tribunal, making confession and obtaining reconciliation. Doubtless prisoners on trial testified against him, for he was soon afterwards arrested. November 5, 1484 he made a fuller confession, covering all the points of Judaism and disbelief in the sacraments which he had been administering. In spite of his professions of repentance, the fiscal claimed that this was extorted by fear, and presented the evidence of ten witnesses, whose testimony as a whole was but a confirmation of his confession. He gained nothing by his self-denunciation; he was degraded from the priesthood and burnt in the auto de fe of August 17, 1486.[1350]

THE TIME OF MERCY

If thus the Edict of Grace was of little benefit to the New Christians, it was of the utmost service to the Inquisition. The multitudes who came forward contributed large sums in their “alms;” they gave the tribunals wide knowledge of suspects and a means of subsequently convicting them on the score of their imperfect confessions—for their confessions could not fail to be technically imperfect. Moreover, the necessity of denouncing all accomplices furnished an invaluable mass of testimony for further prosecutions. Thus, by this simple and apparently merciful expedient, the inquisitor was provided with funds and had his work laid out for him, enabling him to gather in his harvest with small labor of investigation and with full certainty of results. The fisc also had a further advantage in the opportunity afforded by the imperfect confessions of the reconciled. Besides the general compositions for confiscation described above, there were special ones exempting the Conversos from this particular peril. Thus a royal cédula of April 6, 1491, grants to those of Valencia, for five thousand ducats, release of confiscation for all imperfect confessions and for heresies committed up to that date, except in cases of relapse.[1351] Their fears were speculated upon in every way conceivable.

This probably explains some obscure allusions to a Time of Mercy, as distinguished from the Time of Grace, of which the clearest account we have refers to Majorca. A contemporary relates that “Some years after the Time of Grace, perhaps two, when many heretics had confessed some errors but not all, and had suppressed the names of many accomplices, a rigorous inquisition was made against them. Then, at the persuasion of a certain great Rabbi, nearly all the apostates, seeing the afflictions visited upon them, came to the palace of the inquisitors with loud cries and tears (I wish they were sincere) begging for pardon. Then new confessions were made and, by command of the inquisitor-general, with the consent of King Ferdinand, they were admitted to mercy with a moderate pecuniary fine to redeem their lawfully confiscated property. And that time was called the Time of Mercy. And this occurred in our city of the kingdom of Majorca, viz., the Time of Grace in 1488 and the Time of Mercy in 1490, when I was ten years old. Yet the grace and mercy were of little avail for, from then until the current year 1524, the inquisition against them has never ceased; many were delivered to the secular court and very many exposed to shame and imprisoned for life and their property confiscated, yet never would they amend.”[1352]

However successful was the device of the Edict of Grace, from the point of view of inquisitor and king, it evidently won over but few to the faith and, after a comparatively brief experience, the Conversos recognized that those who availed themselves of it were in a distinctly worse position than before, as their confessions were on record against them in case of relapse, and they were exposed to the added danger that any imperfections in those confessions were legally construed as impenitence, which was mortal. We shall see, when considering the subject of confession that this question of imperfection was treated so rigidly as to render its avoidance practically impossible, and of this the Inquisition took full advantage, for we find the Suprema instructing the tribunals to scrutinize carefully all confessions made by those under trial and compare them with those presented in the Time of Grace, to see whether anything had been concealed and whether the so-called penitents counselled with each other to shield their friends and kindred.[1353] This latter clause points to another serious bar to the success of Edicts of Grace, in the obligation to denounce accomplices, which involved the exposure to prosecution of all the friends and kindred of the penitent. This was especially felt when the enforced conversion of the Moriscos subjected them to the Inquisition, for one of their evil qualities, we are told, was that, while they could be forced to confess freely about themselves, they could not be induced to betray their neighbors, wherefore they were burnt for impenitence.[1354]

The Moriscos offered the largest field for the exploitation of Terms of Grace during nearly a century. There was an earnest desire, for reasons of state, to secure their conversion, and special concessions were made to them with little result. The details of these will be more conveniently considered hereafter, and it will suffice here to mention that Philip II, towards the close of his reign, proposed to issue an edict of a comprehensive character which should determine the question of expulsion. Convinced of the futility of such measures involving the denunciation of accomplices, he applied to Clement VIII for permission to omit it, but the pontiff was more rigid than the king and, in his brief authorizing the edict, he insisted on the denunciation of apostates.[1355] Philip’s death, in 1598, postponed the issue of the edict until August 22, 1599. Every effort was made to render it successful and the twelve months conceded in it were extended to eighteen, expiring February 28, 1601. The result was awaited with anxiety and, on August 22, 1601, the inquisitors reported that during the whole term only thirteen persons had taken advantage of it, and these had made such imperfect confessions and had so shielded their accomplices that they deserved condemnation rather than absolution.[1356]

UNDER THE RESTORATION

For two centuries after the expulsion of the Moriscos we hear nothing more of Edicts of Grace. There were no longer in Spain bodies of heretics or suspects to whom such expedients were applicable, and the desired unity of faith was secured so far as practicable but, with the Napoleonic wars, there came new sources of infection. Spain was traversed from end to end by armies composed of heretics like the English or largely of free-thinkers like the French. Jews had taken advantage of the troublous times to pollute the sacred soil and liberal ideas, abhorred alike by Church and State, had ample opportunity of dissemination. With the re-establishment of the Inquisition, in 1814, it seemed opportune to meet the flood of heresy and libertinism by the old methods. On January 2, February 10 and April 5, 1815, therefore, the inquisitor-general issued Edicts of Grace, promising that all who, during the current year, should come forward and denounce themselves for heresy or other crimes justiciable by the Inquisition, should be absolved without punishment and without obligation to denounce accomplices. This was followed, April 12th, with orders to collect all information possible, but not to prosecute until after the expiration of the term, when all who should not have spontaneously presented themselves were to be put on trial. This comprehensive plan can scarce be pronounced a success. The records show that a few espontaneados availed themselves of the promised grace, but the number was lamentably insignificant. This did not encourage prolongation of the term and, on January 12, 1816, another edict announced its expiration and the revival of the old obligation to denounce all offences known to the penitent.[1357] There does not seem to have followed any outburst of prosecutions. The tribunals, doubtless, had been too much occupied in repairing their shattered fortunes to waste much thought on accumulating information as to heretics.