On the 2nd day of January, 1481, the Inquisition commenced operation in the city of Seville, with Thomas de Torquemada as Inquisitor General of Castile and Aragon. A few years later it found its way into every prominent town of Spain, and confined itself everywhere almost wholly to the Jews. The severity, and savage alacrity of it, may best be learned from the appalling fact that during the eighteen years of Torquemada's ministry an average of more than 6,000 convicted persons suffered annually from this cruel tribunal by burning, or by condemnation to life long slavery, or by endless torture, making an average of nearly seventeen a day, and the entire number punished during its existence in Spain, from 1481 to 1808, amounted to 340,000 persons.[39]
All this to protect the interests of religion. All this for offenses so trivial that our blood boils with indignation at the very thought of the heinous cruelty. It was sufficient to burn a "convert," as a relapsed heretic, upon the mere accusations of crimes such as these: That he wore better clothes or cleaner linen on the Jewish Sabbath than on other days of the week; that he had no fire in his house on the Jewish Sabbath; that he ate the meat of animals slaughtered by Jews; that he abstained from eating pork; that he gave his child a Hebrew name—and yet he was prohibited by law, under severe penalties, from giving a Christian name—that on the Day of Atonement he had asked forgiveness; that he had laid his hands in blessing upon his child's head, without the sign of the cross, and numerous others, equally as harmless. Most of the charges did not even prove a relapse, their observance being, for the most, either purely accidental or the result of early habit, or, what was most frequently the case, pure invention. No better chance existed for wreaking vengeance, on a Jew. A simple accusation, even anonymously, sufficed. For the accused there was no safety against malice; no facing the accuser, who perhaps, was his bitterest enemy; no trial; no cross-examination; no justice. He was put under arrest and conveyed to the secret chambers of the Inquisition, where, cut off from the world, he remained, sometimes for months, in complete ignorance of the nature of the charges preferred against him. Once there, the famous words of Dante may be well applied to him: "Lasciate ogni speranze voich'entrate." "All hope abandon, ye who enter here."
At last he would be summoned before the Inquisitors and asked to confess. And well for him if he plead guilty. It is true, he will be convicted, but he has escaped the tortures which are well nigh beyond the power of endurance, and which will soon force a confession, true or not true, or which, even if endured, cannot save him, as he will nevertheless be convicted on the strength of positions of the accuser.
I shall spare you a recital of the tortures, of the sufferings endured in the deepest vaults of the Inquisition, where the cries of the victims could fall on no ear save that of the tormentors. It is difficult to realize that these iron-hearted and iron-handed henchmen, who thus eagerly, passionately, with a thirst for blood that knew no mercy, with zeal that never tired, devoted their whole life to cruelties such as we encounter here, could have been human beings, much less ministers of Christ. I shall spare you and spare myself a recital of these sufferings. I shall not speak of the tortures by rack and rope, and fire and water, how the victims' joints were dislocated, how every bone in their body was broken, how the body was roasted over a slow fire. I cannot speak of these tortures. I can only refer you to "The History of The Inquisition," by Don Juan Antonio Llorento, whose records are authentic, as he himself was Secretary to the Inquisition; or to Mosheim's "Ecclesiastical History," or to Prescott's "Ferdinand and Isabella," volume I, chapter VII. To endure all these tortures, and live, was thought positive proof of Satanic life, and the strongest ground for burning. Nearly all plead guilty to whatever they were accused of, and to more, too, after a short experience with the rack. And confession brought public burning.
This was the last scene in the bloody tragedy, so wrongly named "Auto De Fe" ("Act of Faith"). It was a gala day for the town in which it was enacted. The proudest grandees of the land acted as escorts to the ecclesiastical henchmen. The royal party seldom missed this pompous ceremony, and not infrequently heaped fagots on the blazing fire with their own hands. A military escort led the unfortunate victims, clad in coarse yellow garments called "san benitos" garnished with a scarlet cross, and with hideous figures of devils and flames of fire. And a horrible appearance they presented, emaciated, lacerated, crippled, dazed by the light and fresh air which had been denied them for months.
The pyre is lighted. The flames shoot up. The victims writhe in agony.
Lo! a fierce wind arises. For a moment it blows the flames from the bodies. One of the victims speaks. It is Antonio Joseph, the Jewish celebrated author and classical dramatist of Portugal, where the performance of his dramatic pieces draws tears even to this day. Thus the venerable sage speaks:
"I own I belong to a faith which you yourselves acknowledge to be of Divine origin. God loved this religion, and He, according to my belief, is still attached to it, while you think He has ceased to be so; and because your belief differs from mine, you condemn those who are of the opinion that God continues to love what He formerly loved. You demand that we should become Christians, and yet you are far from being Christians yourselves. Be at least men, and act towards us as reasonable as if you had no religion at all to guide you and no revelation for your enlightenment." "Osseitaro barbaro" ("clip his beard"), some of the spectators shout, and immediately one of the executioners besmears his venerable beard, by means of a long brush, with pitch and turpentine, and sets fire to it. One more cry, "Sh'ma, Yisrael, Adonay Elahenu, Adonay Echad" ("Hear, O Israel, the Eternal, Our God is One"), and the flames have done their work, amidst the rapturous applause of the spectators, and amidst the pious ejaculations: "Blessed be forever the goodness and mercy of the Holy Inquisition. Blessed be the Holy Trinity, the sister of the Virgin Mary." Not a tear among the spectators. Father, mother, husband, wife, child, relatives, friends, all are eye-witnesses to this bloody sacrifice, and yet from them not a sigh of regret, nor dare they be absent, nor dare they abstain from applauding, that would fasten suspicion upon them, and condemn them to a similar fate. A confiscation of the convicted possessions ended the mournful tragedy.
Such was the clemency and generosity for which Boabdil, the last of the Moorish kings, entreated. Praised be God, now and forever, who has emancipated us from the clemency and generosity of the Church.