‘Goa, Augustinian Convent, 27th Jan. 1808.
‘On the second morning after my arrival, I was surprised by my host, the Inquisitor, coming into my apartment clothed in black robes from head to foot: for the usual dress of his order is white. He said he was going to sit on the tribunal of the holy office. ‘I presume, father, your august office does not occupy much of your time?’ ‘Yes’ answered he ‘much. I sit on the tribunal three or four days every week.’
‘I had thought, for some days, of putting Dellon’s book into the Inquisitor’s hands; for if I could get him to advert to the facts stated in that book, I should be able to learn, by comparison, the exact state of the inquisition at the present time. In the evening he came in, as usual, to pass an hour in my apartment. After some conversation I took the pen in my hand to write a few notes in my journal; and, as if to amuse him, while I was writing, I took up Dellon’s book, which was lying with some others on the table, and handing it across to him, asked him whether he had ever seen it. It was in the French language, which he understood well. ‘Relation de l’ Inquisition de Goa,’ pronounced he, with a slow, articulate voice. He had never seen it before, and began to read with eagerness. He had not proceeded far, before he betrayed evident symptoms of uneasiness. He turned hastily to the middle of the book, and then to the end, and then ran over the table of contents at the beginning, as if to ascertain the full extent of the evil. He then composed himself to read, while I continued to write. He turned over the pages with rapidity, and when he came to a certain place, he exclaimed in the broad Italian accent, ‘Mendacium, Mendacium.’ I requested he would mark those passages which were untrue, and we should discuss them afterwards, for that I had other books on the subject. ‘Other books,’ said he, and he looked with an inquiring eye on those on the table. He continued reading till it was time to retire to rest and then begged to take the book with him.
‘It was on this night that a circumstance happened which caused my first alarm at Goa. My servants slept every night at my chamber door, in the long gallery which is common to all the apartments, and not far distant from the servants of the convent. About midnight I was waked by loud shrieks, and expressions of terror, from some person in the gallery. In the first moment of surprise I concluded it must be the Alguazils of the holy office, seizing my servants to carry them to the inquisition. But, on going out, I saw my own servants standing at the door, and the person who had caused the alarm (a boy of about fourteen) at a little distance, surrounded by some of the priests, who had come out of their cells on hearing the noise. The boy said he had seen a spectre, and it was a considerable time before the agitations of his body and voice subsided.—Next morning at breakfast the Inquisitor apologised for the disturbance, and said the boy’s alarm proceeded from a ‘phantasma animi,’ a phantasm of the imagination.’
‘After breakfast we resumed the subject of the inquisition. The inquisitor admitted that Dellon’s descriptions of the dungeons, of the torture, of the mode of trial, and of the Auto da Fè, were in general just; but he said the writer judged untruly of the motives of the inquisitors, and very uncharitably of the character of the Holy Church; and I admitted that, under the pressure of his peculiar suffering, this might possibly be the case. The inquisitor was now anxious to know to what extent Dellon’s book had been circulated in Europe. I told him that Picart had published to the world extracts from it, in his celebrated work called ‘Religious Ceremonies,’ together with plates of the system of torture and burnings at the Auto da Fè. I added that it was now generally believed in Europe that these enormities no longer existed, and that the inquisition itself had been totally suppressed; but that I was concerned to find that this was not the case. He now began a grave narration to shew that the inquisition had undergone a change in some respects, and that its terrors were mitigated.[[288]]
‘I had[‘I had] already discovered, from written or printed documents, that the Inquisition of Goa was suppressed by royal edict in the year 1775, and established again in 1779. The Franciscan father before mentioned witnessed the annual Auto da Fè, from 1770, to 1775. “It was the humanity, and tender mercy of a good king,” said the old father, “which abolished the inquisition.” But immediately on his death, the power of the priests acquired the ascendant, under the Queen Dowager, and the tribunal was re-established, after a bloodless interval of five years. It has continued in operation ever since. It was restored in 1779, subject to certain restrictions, the chief of which are the two following, ‘That[‘That] a greater number of witnesses should be required to convict a criminal than were before necessary;”[necessary;”] and, ‘That the Auto da Fè should not be held publicly as before; but that the sentences of the tribunal should be executed privately, within the walls of the inquisition.[inquisition.]
‘In this particular, the constitution of the new inquisition is more reprehensible than that of the old one; for, as the old father expressed it, ‘Nunc sigillum non revelat Inquisitio.’—Formerly the friends of those unfortunate persons who were thrown into its prison, had the melancholy satisfaction of seeing them once a year walking in the procession of the Auto da Fè; or if they were condemned to die, they witnessed their death, and mourned for the dead. But now they have no means of learning for years whether they be dead or alive. The policy of this new mode of concealment appears to be this, to preserve the power of the inquisition, and at the same time to lessen the public odium of its proceedings, in the presence of British dominion and civilization. I asked the father his opinion concerning the nature and frequency of the punishments within the walls. He said he possessed no certain means of giving a satisfactory answer: that every thing transacted there was declared to be ‘sacrum et secretum.’ But this he knew to be true, that there were constantly captives in the dungeons; that some of them are liberated after long confinement, but that they never speak afterwards of what passed within the place. He added that, of all the persons he had known, who had been liberated, he never knew one who did not carry about with him what might be called, ‘the mark of the inquisition;’ that is to say, who did not shew in the solemnity of his countenance, or in his peculiar demeanor, or his terror of the priests, that he had been in that dreadful place.
‘The chief argument of the Inquisitor to prove the melioration of the Inquisition was the superior humanity of the inquisitors. I remarked that I did not doubt the humanity of the existing officers; but what availed humanity in an inquisitor? he must pronounce sentence according to the laws of the tribunal, which are notorious enough; and a relapsed heretic must be burned in the flames, or confined for life in a dungeon, whether the inquisitor be humane or not. ‘But, if,’ said I, ‘you would satisfy my mind completely on this subject, shew me the inquisition.’ He said it was not permitted to any person[person] to see the inquisition. I observed that mine might be considered as a peculiar case; that the character of the inquisition, and the expediency of its longer continuance had been called in question; that I had myself written on the civilization of India, and might possibly publish something more upon that subject, and that it could not be expected that I should pass over the inquisition without notice, knowing what I did of its proceedings; at the same time I should not wish to state a single fact without his authority, or at least his admission of its truth. I added that he himself had been pleased to communicate with me very fully on the subject, and that in all our discussions we had both been actuated, I hoped, by a good purpose. The countenance of the inquisitor evidently altered on receiving this intimation, nor did it ever after wholly regain its wonted frankness and placidity. After some hesitation, however, he said he would take me with him to the inquisition the next day.—I was a good deal surprised at this acquiescence of the inquisitor, but I did not know what was in his mind.
‘Next morning after breakfast my host went to dress for the holy office, and soon returned in his inquisitorial robes. He said he would go half an hour before the usual time for the purpose of shewing me the inquisition. The buildings are about a quarter of a mile distant from the convent, and we proceeded thither in our manjeels.[[289]] On our arrival at the place, the inquisitor said to me, as we were ascending the steps of the outer stair, that he hoped I should be satisfied with a transient view of the inquisition, and that I would retire whenever he should desire it. I took this as a good omen, and followed my conductor with tolerable confidence.