A History of the Inquisition of Spain; vol. 4

by Henry Charles Lea

JOVELLANOS

He was suddenly recalled from his exile, November 23, 1797, to assume the position of minister of Gracia y Justicia, where he speedily gave the Inquisition abundant cause to dread him. A competencia had arisen between the Seville tribunal and the episcopal authorities over a confessional which it had ordered to be closed. The matter came before Carlos, who instructed Jovellanos to obtain the opinion of Tavira, Bishop of Osma, which he duly transmitted to the king, February 15, 1798, with a Representation arguing that the time had come to restore to the bishops their old jurisdiction in matters of faith; the object for which the Inquisition was established had been attained; its processes were cumbrous and inefficient, and its members were ignorant. The jurisdiction of the bishops could alone furnish an effective remedy for existing evils—a jurisdiction more natural, more authoritative, more grateful to the people, and fuller of humanity and gentleness, as emanating from the power granted to them by the Holy Ghost, wherefore the authority that had been usurped from them should be restored. Moreover he took into consideration the condition of the Holy See, deprived of its temporalities by the French Republic. Everything, he said, pointed to a fearful schism at the death of Pius VI, in which case each nation must gather itself under its own pastors. The papacy would endeavor to retain the cumbrous and costly organization of the curia, by increasing its exactions, and it would have to be reduced to the functions exercised during the first eight centuries.[870]

Jovellanos was a sincere Catholic, but after utterances so hardy it was not difficult for his enemies to convince the king that he was inclined to heresy and atheism. Godoy had grown alarmed at the ascendancy which he was acquiring over Carlos; his fellow-minister Caballero conspired with the Inquisition, and on August 15th the king signed the dismissal of his minister, whose official life had endured but eight months. A fortnight later a royal carta orden declared it to be his unalterable will that the Holy Office should permanently enjoy its jurisdiction and prerogatives without modification.[871] Jovellanos returned to Gijon where he lived in dignified retirement for two years and a half. His offence however had been too great for pardon and his influence was still dreaded. An anonymous denunciation of the flimsiest character was laid before Carlos, describing him as having abandoned all religion and as being at the head of a highly dangerous party, engaged in schemes for the overthrow of Catholicism and the monarchy. The pusillanimous king adopted the course suggested to him by the secret accuser. Before day-break of March 13, 1801, the house of Jovellanos was surrounded by a troop of horse; he was aroused from sleep, his papers were seized and transmitted to the ministry of State; he was kept in his house incomunicado for twenty-four hours, then thrust into a coach and carried, still incomunicado, across Spain to Barcelona and thence to Majorca, where he lay in prison until the abdication of Carlos, in 1808, and the consequent troubles effected his release.[872]

ATTEMPTED SUPPRESSION

A case nearly parallel was that of Mariano Luis de Urquijo, who followed Jovellanos in the ministry of Gracia y Justicia. He had no cause to love the Inquisition. Among his youthful indiscretions was a translation of Voltaire’s Mort de César, which led the Inquisition to make secret investigations, resulting in the conviction that he was dangerously infected with philosophism. He was about to be arrested when Aranda, who recognized his merit, recommended him to the king and, in 1792, he was appointed to a position in Aranda’s office. The Inquisition had learned respect for royal officials and substituted for a decree of arrest a summons to an audiencia de cargos, ending in a sentence of light suspicion of sharing philosophic errors, absolution ad cautelam, some secret penances and the suppression of his book, though his name was considerately omitted in the edict of prohibition. His official promotion was rapid and, at the age of thirty, he found himself a minister, employing his power, possibly with more zeal than discretion, in encouraging enlightenment and all humanizing influences. On the death of Pius VI he incurred Ultramontane hostility by inducing the king to sign the decree of September 5, 1799, restoring to the bishops the right of issuing dispensations—a measure which provoked long and bitter discussion. This was followed, as we have seen above (Vol. III, p. 504) October 11th by a sharp rebuke to the Inquisition, ordering it to confine itself to its proper duties and, soon afterwards, he presented to Carlos for signature, a decree suppressing the institution and applying its property to purposes of charity and public utility. This was too bold a measure; the king shrank from the responsibility and Urquijo only succeeded in concentrating upon himself clerical hostility, which was reinforced by the enmity of First Consul Bonaparte, whose policy he had opposed. Godoy, who commenced to fear him as a rival, and who was irritated by some imprudent jests, withdrew his support. A triple prosecution was commenced against him by three inquisitors and he fell in December, 1801. He was sent to Pampeluna, to the cell which had been occupied by Floridablanca, and there he lay for a year or two, deprived of fire, lights, books and writing materials. He was liberated under surveillance; in 1808 he refused to accompany Carlos and Fernando to Bayonne, but he attended the so-called Junta of Notables there, accepted the French domination, served as secretary of State and, with the other Afrancesados, sought refuge in France in 1813, dying in Paris in 1817.[873]

It is evident from all this that the opposition to the Inquisition was gathering strength and boldness, but that its foundations were too deep and solid to be overthrown without an upheaval that should shatter the social fabric. A well-intentioned, but somewhat absurd, attempt was made by Grégoire, Constitutional Bishop of Blois, whose fervent Catholicism, combined with equally fervent liberalism, was of service so essential in piloting the Church of France through the storms of the Revolution. In 1798, he addressed a letter to the Spanish inquisitor-general, urging the suppression of the Inquisition and universal toleration, as a preliminary to the redemption of Spain from despotism, and to enabling it to take its place among the nations which had recovered their rights. This was translated into Spanish and some thousands of copies were circulated; it may have made some secret converts but the only visible result was to elicit several replies. One of these, by Pedro Luis Blanco, told Grégoire, with more or less courtesy, to mind his own business; assured him that, if the Inquisition was suppressed, Spain would remain as intolerant as ever, and asserted that no Spaniard had ever imagined that coercion could be employed to obtain conversion. It was probably this, mingled with some skilful adulation of the king and his ministers, that procured for the author, in 1800, the episcopate of Leon.[874] There was also an anonymous “Discurso historico-legal,” evidently by a well-informed inquisitor, probably Riesco of Llerena. It was the most rational history of the Inquisition that had as yet appeared, although it assures us that experience showed that penitents were most grateful for the benevolence shown to them, and that it was a tribunal full of gentleness, the centre of benignity, compassion and mercy, but also of justice.[875]

A third was by Lorenzo Villanueva, a calificador of the Valencia tribunal, whose defence of the reading of Scripture has been alluded to above. It was published under the transparent pseudonym of Lorenzo Astengo, his maternal name. In view of his subsequent career it is not without interest to see his indignation at the advocacy of toleration and his dithyrambic denunciation of the horrors to which philosophism has led in the assertion of human liberty. The first portion of his work is an impassioned and rhetorical defence of persecution, supported by ample learning. Vigorous is his denunciation of the modern theories of philosophism and the rights of man—since original sin, he asks, what rights has man save to slavery, to punishment, to ruin? So he combats at length the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, which he stigmatizes as a delirium, a dream and a deception. Yet he admits that the Inquisition is not perfect—that it has committed errors through imprudence, through ignorance, through excessive zeal, and through human frailty, and that it has prevented the development of some things which would aid the prosperity of the nation.[876] If, as has been asserted, he expected a bishopric in reward for this, he was disappointed.

POLITICAL UPHEAVAL

Thus, at this period the Inquisition was inert and its very existence seemed to be threatened, but its potentiality of evil was undiminished. It was still an object of terror to all inclined to liberal opinions, and it was regarded by the Conservatives as the bulwark protecting the land from the deluge of modern thought.

Feeble though it might be in appearance we shall see how prolonged and stubborn was the contest required for its final suppression.