A History of the Inquisition of Spain; vol. 2

by Henry Charles Lea

SECRECY

Its procedure was guarded with the same anxious care from public knowledge. In 1573, Leonardo Donato, the Venetian envoy, who regarded the Inquisition as necessary to Spain, describes its action as so secret that nothing was known of its victims and their cases until their sentences were published in the autos de fe, but the fear entertained of it was so universal that little was said concerning it through dread of arousing suspicion. He had been able to learn nothing of its methods, but was told that they were good and that the sentences were always just.[1390] No one, in fact, was allowed to know what was its form of procedure. The Instructions, it is true, were necessarily printed. There was an edition of the Antiguas in Seville, in 1536, reprinted in Madrid in 1576. The Nuevas of 1561 were printed in 1612 and the whole were re-edited by Arguello, an official of the Suprema, in 1627 and 1630, but these were strictly reserved for use in the tribunals and their details were constantly subject to modification by the cartas acordadas of the Suprema, which never saw the light. Experienced inquisitors drew up manuals of practice, many of which are still preserved in the MSS. of the archives and libraries, but this knowledge of the estilo or methods of procedure was strictly confined to officials sworn to secrecy. It was apparently soon after the preparation of the Instructions of 1561 that a Doctor Blasco de Alagona had the audacity to ask for a copy of them, when the fiscal, to whom the petition was referred, declared that the granting of such a request would be unexampled, and he had no difficulty in proving that parties before the tribunal had no business to inquire into its methods; the Instructions were solely for its guidance and were to be known to others only by their results in the administration of justice. If they came to public knowledge, evil-intentioned men could debate whether the estilo of the Inquisition was good or bad.[1391]

SECRECY

The extreme importance of the “seal” was fully recognized in assuring freedom of irresponsible action and in creating the popular impression of mysterious impeccability. Philip II, in his instructions to Manrique de Lara, in 1595, dwelt on this and pointed out that “without it the Holy Office could not preserve the untrammelled exercise of its functions” wherefore any official violating it must be punished with the utmost rigor.[1392] Apparently cases of infraction occurred, drawing from the Suprema a carta acordada pointing out that all the power and authority and reputation of those serving in the Holy Office rested upon secrecy. The more secret its affairs were kept, the more they were venerated by those from whom they were concealed. The neglect of this had aroused in the Suprema the greatest resentment, as it was a matter of so great moment to the estimation and respect in which the affairs and the members of the Inquisition had always been held. Therefore it had been resolved that the oath of secrecy, taken on admission to office, should be so construed that its infraction should constitute perjury and infidelity. Single witnesses should suffice for conviction; on a first offence the culprit should be suspended irremissibly for a year and pay fifty ducats, and on a repetition be perpetually dismissed. Even if not convicted he should realize that, in the forum of conscience, he could not draw his salary. This secrecy covered not only matters of faith and depending thereon, but all votes, orders, determinations, letters of the Suprema, informations of limpieza and all other matters, no information concerning which was to be given to the parties concerned or to any outside person, while even the public utterances of the tribunals were not to be spoken of. Moreover, the above penalties and major excommunication were incurred by all who, knowing of infractions of secrecy, did not report them to the Suprema. Finally, this carta was ordered to be filed with the Instructions, to be read annually to the assembled officials.[1393]

The instructions to commissioners warned them that the existence and preservation of the Inquisition depended chiefly on the absolute secrecy to be observed as to all its affairs.[1394] This continued to the end. A decree of the Suprema, December 7, 1814, speaks of the seal which is the soul of the Inquisition.[1395] In fact, there was no hesitation in assimilating it to the seal of confession and in employing the casuistry which justified a confessor in denying under oath what he had learned in the confessional. Similarly the official was told that no oath was binding when the affairs of the Inquisition were concerned—he could depose as to what he knew as an individual, but not what he knew as an official entrusted with its secrets.[1396] We can understand the significance of the popular saying con el rey y la inquisicion, chiton!—keep silence as to the king and the Inquisition.

Even within the tribunals the same mystery was observed in investigating cases of infraction. When an intimation was received that secrecy had been violated, the junior inquisitor examined into it and wrote out the “information” with his own hand, and without allowing any one to know of it. This was then deposited in a separate chest, of which the senior inquisitor held the key; the Suprema was advised of the matter and its instructions were awaited.[1397]

Not the least important result of this secrecy was the fact that it enabled the Inquisition to combine legislative and judicial functions in a manner known to no other tribunal. It framed its own code and administered it in darkness. It is true, as we shall have occasion to see, that many of the regulations and limitations of the Instructions were inspired by a sense of justice, but this mattered little when the secrecy, so jealously preserved, practically left everything to the discretion of the tribunal, until the Suprema absorbed and centralized everything into itself. Shielded from responsibility—save to the more or less perfunctory occasional visitation of an inspector—there was scarce any injustice that could not be safely perpetrated, or any enmity that a perjured witness could not gratify. The secrets of those dark prison-houses will never be known, even by the records, for these were framed by those whose acts they recount and they may be true or falsified. What was the real administration of so-called justice can only be guessed by occasional revelations such as we chance to have in the trials of Archbishop Carranza, of the Nuns of San Placido, of Gerónimo de Villanueva, of Fray Froilan Díaz and, when the principles of justice were set at naught by the chiefs of the Inquisition in the cases of those so prominent, it is not likely that the obscure were treated with greater consideration by the tribunals. At its best, the inquisitorial process left much to the temper and disposition of the judge; as modified by the Inquisition, the fate of the accused was virtually at the discretion of the tribunal, and that discretion was relieved of the wholesome restraint of publicity. At a time when, as we have seen, the secular courts, although open to the public, were little better than instruments of oppression and extortion, it is not to be imagined that the inquisitorial tribunals, shrouded in impenetrable secrecy, and largely dependent for support on fines and confiscations, were scrupulous in the administration of the cruel laws against heresy.

USE OF THE FISCAL

In the original medieval Inquisition the procedure was a pure inquisitio, the inquisitor frankly acting as both prosecutor and judge, collecting testimony, examining witnesses, seeking to make the accused confess or convict himself, and passing sentence. As the institution, in the fifteenth century, declined and became disorganized, its duties were to some extent resumed by the bishops, in whose courts the pressure of multifarious business had long rendered necessary a prosecuting officer, known as the promotor fiscal, duly trained in the civil and canon law. Cases of heresy inevitably followed the routine of the court and consequently assumed the form of actions between the fiscal and the accused, as plaintiff and defendant, with the bishop or his Official as judge.[1398]