A History of the Inquisition of Spain; vol. 3

by Henry Charles Lea

APPEALS

This was more apt to benefit ecclesiastics than laymen for, except in cases involving degradation, they were never exhibited in public autos; their sentences were read in the audience-chamber, and they were more likely than the ordinary culprit to possess the education and intelligence requisite to profit by the opportunity. Cases of appeal by them are consequently not infrequent. Fray Lucas de Allende, Guardian of the Franciscan convent of Madrid, was one of the dupes of Lucrecia de Leon, an impostor who pretended in dreams to have converse with God and the saints. He busied himself in writing out her revelations and was tried at Toledo, where he lay in prison from June, 1590, until April, 1596. He was sentenced to a reprimand and warning not to meddle with such matters, to accept certain definitions laid down by the tribunal, and to strict reclusion in a convent for a year. He vigorously protested that the sentence was absurd and he appealed from it, to which the fiscal retorted by likewise interjecting an appeal. The Suprema heard both appeals and decided, July 30, 1596, by confirming the sentence as to reprimand and warning, and omitting the rest. Even this did not satisfy the obstinate Franciscan for when read to him, August 2d, he refused to accept it and appealed to the pope, but, on being warned to reflect well, he on the same day withdrew this appeal and submitted. There can be little doubt however that the inquisitors suppressed the revocation of part of the sentence, for there follows a petition from him to be allowed to visit his native Villarubia before entering upon his reclusion, deceit of this kind being perfectly practicable in the profound secrecy of the tribunals.[256] More successful was the Geronimite Fray Martin de Cazares, prosecuted in Valladolid for superstitious curing of the sick and sentenced, in 1655, to reprimand and four years’ exile from certain places. The Suprema had confirmed the sentence and yet on appeal from him it remitted the exile.[257] By this time the Suprema was supervising all action of the tribunals and, as it gradually became the whole Inquisition, appeals grew to be superfluous, yet the custom of withholding the sentence was persistent.

There was one class of cases, however, in which notification of the sentence was always made prior to the auto de fe—those in which the culprit was condemned to relaxation. The object of this was to give him a chance of saving his soul by confession and conversion; in the earlier period the notification was short, being only at midnight before the auto, but this, as we shall see hereafter, was subsequently extended to three days.

In the medieval Inquisition, the inquisitor, when rendering sentence, always reserved the right to modify it, in the direction either of mercy or of severity, or to remove it wholly. He could do this, for he was practically independent and irresponsible to any superior, the only authority over him being the distant and almost inaccessible Holy See. The Spanish inquisitor occupied a wholly different position, being held in strict and constantly increasing subordination to the Suprema and, as commutations early became a source of large revenue, it is easy to understand that the tribunals were not permitted to participate in the proceeds. Already in 1498, the Instructions thus undertook to limit the power of inquisitors to modify sentences, by ordering that they should not grant commutations for money or favor or without just cause and, when such existed, the commutation must be into fasts, almsgiving and other pious uses; there could be no release from wearing the sanbenito and the rehabilitation of descendants was reserved for the inquisitor-general.[258] It was difficult to enforce restrictions which recognized any right of inquisitors to modify sentences and, in 1513, Ximenes deprived them of it wholly and concentrated the power in the hands of the inquisitor-general.[259] It was wholly a matter of finance and we have seen (Book V, Chap, iii) how it was thenceforth utilized. The tribunal was recognized to have no power to modify a sentence when once pronounced; as an experienced writer says, although by common law inquisitors and Ordinaries can change or mitigate sentences, it is otherwise under the Instructions which declare that this is reserved for the inquisitor-general, the reason being that they have exhausted their powers.[260]

SEVERITY OR BENIGNITY

In the Indies, where distance rendered application to the Suprema virtually impossible, the tribunals seem to have retained the power of modifying sentences, even though they may rarely have exercised it. In 1663 an old woman, known as Isabel de Montoya, tried for sorcery in Mexico, was sentenced to appear in an auto de fe with the sanbenito, to receive two hundred lashes and to serve for life in a hospital. In the audience-chamber, November 5th, the sentence was read to her, in presence of the fiscal and her advocate. With the assent of the latter, she begged that the sanbenito and the scourging be omitted; she had only been an impostor and had had no pact, expressed or implied, with the demon, and in view of her age and sickness and crippling in the torture she supplicated mercy. On November 7th the fiscal replied to this, asking an aggravation of punishment because it proved her to be an impenitent in denying her pact and intention. November 21st the consulta de fe assembled and unanimously confirmed its former sentence.

The auto de fe was not celebrated until May 4, 1664; on the 6th she was duly scourged through the streets and on the 15th she was delivered to the Hospital del Amor de Dios. Her pitiful prayer, urging age and sickness, was justified for, on June 17th, a messenger from the hospital announced her death, and the inquisitors briefly ordered it to bury her.[261]

As regards cruelty, it is impossible to generalize, where in the earlier periods so much discretion was allowed to the tribunals, and so much depended on the temper of the inquisitors, who might be stern or humane. In the case of the obstinate heretic or of the impenitente negativo there was no question; the law of the land and universal public opinion alike condemned him to the stake but, in the wide sphere of the penitent heretic and of the numerous offences of which the Inquisition had cognizance, there was an ample field for the display of severity or benignity. Against the barbarity of a case like that of Isabel de Montoya, which had too many parallels, may be set the tendencies of the Toledo tribunal about 1600. In its reports to the Suprema at that period there, frequently occur explanatory remarks, as though to apologize for the mildness of the sentences, which indicate its readiness to temper its judgements—such expressions as “she was a poor and ignorant woman,” “she was simple and ignorant,” “she was spared heavier penance because she was only sixteen years old,” “she seemed a very simple and a very good woman,” “recent baptism and drunkenness.” Occasionally, in bigamy cases, involving scourging and the galleys according to rule, the omission of these is justified by the age or weakness of the culprit. Sometimes, but not often, the suffering which the prisoner has endured during prolonged imprisonment is taken into consideration, and is admitted as part of the punishment.[262] This tendency towards mercy becomes more marked in the period of decadence, when the humanitarian development of the age made itself felt even in the Inquisition, and it offers a suggestive contrast to the savage fanaticism of the secular courts of a land which claimed to be more enlightened than Spain. In 1765 a wooden crucifix on the bridge at Abbeville was mutilated and the Bishop of Amiens published a monitoire ordering, under pain of excommunication, any one having knowledge of the matter to denounce the offender. Duval de Saucourt, a counsellor in the court of Abbeville, who was inimical to the Abbess of Villancourt, accused her nephew, the Chevalier de la Barre, a youth of nineteen. The only evidence was that he had once passed a procession without lifting his hat, that he had talked against the Eucharist and had sung impious and licentious songs. He was doubtless irreligious and debauched, and his evil reputation sufficed, in the court of Abbeville, to justify a sentence of amputating his tongue and right hand and burning him alive. Appeal was made to the Parlement of Paris which, by a vote of fifteen to ten, confirmed the sentence, with the mitigation of beheading before concremation and this was duly executed, July 1, 1766.[263] The annals of the Spanish Inquisition offer nothing more hideous than this, and the comparison is the more instructive in that its penalty for sacrilegiously outraging an image of Christ, the Virgin or the saints, with aggravating circumstances, was merely appearance in an auto de fe with the insignia of a blasphemer, abjuration de levi and a hundred lashes or vergüenza or exile, according to the character of the offence and of the culprit.[264]

The Inquisition boasted that it was no respecter of persons and, in one point at least, its rules offer a favorable contrast to those of the secular law. In Spanish law the privileges of gentility were fully recognized and, for many crimes, the penalties assigned to gentle blood were much milder than those inflicted on the commonalty. This was reversed in the Inquisition, where it was prescribed that, in matters of faith, nobles should be punished more severely than plebeians.[265] This was doubtless owing to the assumption that they were more intelligently trained and less exposed to error, besides the fact that their example was more impressive. On the other hand, however, the clergy, for whom less excuse could be found, were treated with much greater leniency than the laity and, far from being utilized as examples, their frailties and errors were shielded as much as possible from public view, in order not to diminish popular reverence for the Church.

NON-PERFORMANCE