A History of the Inquisition of Spain; vol. 3

by Henry Charles Lea

When Melchor Cano, in 1555, at the request of Charles V, drew up a memoir in which he assailed, with the bitterest invective, the pretensions of the curia, and Paul IV summoned him, as a son of perdition, to Rome for trial, the Spanish Inquisition sided with the sovereign and did not put the obnoxious paper in the Index.[1431] Melchor Cano was forgiven, but the causes of dissension remained. One of the chief of these was the jurisdiction exercised by the papal nuncio, bringing in its train a long series of abuses, relief from which was sought by the recurso de fuerza, like the French appel comme d’abus, admitting appeals to the Council of Castile from all ecclesiastical tribunals. The curia claimed this to be an invasion of clerical liberty, and the struggle over it was long and envenomed. In 1591 Juan de Roa printed, with a dedication to the king and the approbation of an inquisitor, a treatise entitled “Apologia de Juribus principalibus defendendis,” arguing in favor of the royal jurisdiction in such cases, which excited no little indignation in Rome, where it was promptly condemned and burnt. Gregory XIV and the Roman Inquisition instructed the Nuncio Millino to induce Philip II to follow this example, and the succeeding Nuncio Caietano was ordered to labor with the utmost zeal to have the very memory of the book obliterated. So far was he from success that the Inquisition did not censure the work, and Philip rewarded the author with presentation to a priory worth fifteen hundred ducats per annum, of which he was promptly deprived by the nuncio, on account of his unspeakable crimes. So bitter was the quarrel that Cardinal Baronius, in his Annals, so far forgot the impartiality of an historian as to introduce an indecent personal attack on Roa in his account of the Priscillianists of the fifth century. This led to a rumor that his volume would be condemned by the Spanish Inquisition, whereat he complained loudly, in a letter to Padre Antonio Talpa, inveighing against the incredible audacity of the Spanish Inquisition, which placed on its Index whatever it chose.[1432]

INDEPENDENCE OF ROME

It was probably this case that led Clement VIII, in the Rules prefixed to his Index, which have been retained in all succeeding Indexes, to order the expurgation of whatever was contrary to ecclesiastical immunity, liberty and jurisdiction. This did not prevent Spanish legists and theologians from defending the regalías. About 1600, Henrique Henríquez, one of the most learned doctors of his day, produced his “De Clavibus Romani Pontificis” in which, like Roa, he maintained the recurso de fuerza. By order of the papal nuncio, this was suppressed and burnt so successfully that only three or four copies have survived.[1433] That an organized government should permit within its territory an antagonistic foreign power to suppress books defending what it claimed to be its rights was an anomaly which could not be patiently endured. Rome was immovable, and a clash was inevitable. In 1613 appeared the “Tractatus de cognitione per viam violentiæ” by Gerónimo de Cevallos and, in 1617, Philip III, on learning that its condemnation was under consideration in Rome, wrote earnestly to his ambassador to prevent it, and declared that such condemnation would not be received or executed in Spain. This may have delayed but did not prevent the adverse decision, which came December 12, 1624, when Philip IV carried out his father’s threat. The Spanish Inquisition did not condemn the work, but merely ordered some clauses altered, and its independence in the matter of censorship was tacitly asserted.[1434]

Rome persisted, and independence was definitely asserted. In February, 1627, the Count of Oñate, ambassador to the Holy See, reported the issue of a decree condemning books, some of which were in defence of the regalías. In June, Philip sent this to the Suprema, asking its advice. It replied that, when the decree should come, it would be examined and reported to the king without allowing its publication, for no ecclesiastic or layman in Spain could do so without orders from the Inquisitor-general and Suprema. If such attempts were made, an appropriate remedy would be applied.[1435] The issue promptly came. The decree appeared, April 12, 1628, and one of the books condemned was the “Tractatus de Regia Protectione,” by Salgado de Somoza, President of the Royal Council and a vigorous upholder of the regalías. When the decree arrived, the king ordered the inquisitor-general to deliver it to him and wrote to all the bishops forbidding them to publish it.[1436]

Having thus established its independence, the Inquisition refused to recognize Roman condemnations of books of all kinds. When one was received, it caused the book to be examined by its own calificadores and voted on their report, either to approve or to condemn; whatever was done was its own act and not that of Rome. Another of the works condemned in the decree of April 1, 1628, was a book of extravagant Mariolatry, entitled Elucidarium Deiparæ, by the Jesuit Juan Bautista Poza, which had been current in Spain for a couple of years. Poza wrote two abusive letters to Urban VIII, asserting that the Roman Congregations had no jurisdiction in Spain, where its own Inquisition was supreme, and, in 1632, the Congregation retorted by condemning all his works. The Nuncio Monte made great efforts to have this published, but the Suprema had the books examined and only prohibited them until they should be expurgated. It was not always easy, however, to array the bishops in opposition to the Holy See, and in Valencia the self-willed Archbishop Acevedo claimed the right to publish the papal decree, and the tribunal there was involved in some trouble with the episcopal officials.[1437]

INDEPENDENCE OF ROME

This was speedily followed by a similar struggle over a vastly more important book—the Dialogo of Galileo, on the Copernecan system.[1438] In a consulta of December 13, 1633, the Suprema represented to Philip that, under the papal delegations, the Inquisition had exclusive control over censorship in Spain. In Rome, prohibitions were issued by the Congregations of Inquisition and Index, which were similar bodies to the Suprema, and it did not recognize them, but only the pope, as its superior. The nuncios were always endeavoring to extend their jurisdiction and required to be watched to avert greater evils. The inquisitors of Cuenca had just written that, by the nuncio’s order, the provisor had affixed to the church-doors an edict regarding a book entitled “Galileo Galilei Fiorentino,” without having first given notice to the inquisitor-general. The results of allowing the nuncio to do this were foreseen when the Count of Oñate reported from Rome the prohibition of certain books defending the regalías and, as the nuncios were continually endeavoring thus to invade the exclusive jurisdiction of the Inquisition in matters of censorship, the king was asked to sign the accompanying letters to the archbishops and bishops, similar to those despatched in 1627.[1439] Of course the king signed the letters; whether the Suprema had Galileo’s book examined or not, we have no means of knowing, but the Inquisition escaped the discredit of condemning him, and the name of the illustrious Florentine appears nowhere in the Spanish Indexes.

In the matter of the regalistas, Philip, in a letter of April 10, 1634, to Cardinal Borja, pointed out the unfairness of suppressing legal works defending his side of the controversy with the Holy See, in which the faith was not concerned, and he ordered urgent representations to be made to Urban VIII, with the intimation that, if Rome continued its course, he would suppress all books supporting the papal claims.[1440] Remonstrance was in vain. In 1640, Salgado de Somoza’s “Tractatus de Supplicatione ad Sanctissimum” was condemned; in 1642, Solorzano’s “Disputationes de Indiarum Jure” and, in 1646, six or eight similar works, for which the nuncio was instructed to demand similar prohibition in Spain.[1441] Imperious as was this, the act was rendered doubly offensive by causing the condemnation to be published without transmitting it through the Inquisition, thus disregarding the independence claimed by the latter and the courtesy due to a friendly government. Provocation so extreme could scarce have been ventured but for the desperate position of Spain, battling at once with France, with Portugal and with Catalonia. Yet Spain was not sunk so low as to submit. After deliberation in the various councils, Philip, on October 16th, sent to the Suprema three consultas which they had presented and ordered it to advise him. With unusual promptitude it replied, October 20th, expressing its unreserved adhesion to the regalías claimed by the crown, which were founded in rights inseparable from sovereignty, in papal bulls, and in immemorial prescription. The unlawful act of the nuncio was of the highest prejudice; the books condemned had in no way transcended proper limits; their authors were pious Catholics and the works had been circulated in sight of the Inquisition, whose duty it was to watch over such matters. The consulta ended with a promise to suppress the papal decree and to make the fact known everywhere, so as to avert the injury which its publication might have caused.[1442] Thus supported by the indignation of all his advisers, Philip issued a decree in November ordering the papal decree to be suppressed; the nuncio was rebuked and told that the royal indignation would seek other means of expression; the ambassador at Rome was instructed to represent the deep resentment which was felt, and to tell the Holy See that this was not a mere matter of opinion, in which it could interfere and dictate to Spain about rights coeval with the crown and always uninterruptedly enjoyed. Opportunity was also taken to reassert emphatically the independence of the Spanish Inquisition and the nullity, without its approval, of the acts of the Roman Congregations.[1443] Notwithstanding this, the progressive decadence of Spain encouraged the curia to make another attempt, in 1687, when the nuncio sent a decree of the Congregation of the Inquisition to the bishops, with orders to publish it. The Suprema lost no time in presenting two earnest consultas to the king, urging him to take prompt action in repelling this attempt to subject Spain to the Roman Inquisition.[1444]

The persistence of the curia was fruitless. The established custom, resulting from these disputes, as described by an experienced inquisitor, was that, when the nuncio received a brief from the Congregations, he sent it to the Suprema, which ordered the book to be examined by its calificadores and, if they pronounced it objectionable, the Suprema issued a corresponding edict. Twice, he says, the nuncio, in order to evade these rules, caused edicts to be posted in the court-yard of his palace, but the Suprema abrogated them, punished those who did it, and reported to the king in order that he might warn the nuncio to observe the regulations. Sometimes, however, a brief came directly from the pope. Then the matter was in the hands of the king, who retained it and supplicated the pope that it should be published by the Inquisition. In Sicily, no brief was published without receiving the exequatur of the viceroy.[1445]