On being installed into office, he received a manuscript book of directions for inquisitors, for his private guidance. These rules required the extremes of inhumanity; and his attendance on the trials of the Holy Office he found most agonising, so that he frequently uttered exclamations of horror. Though not suspected, the inquisitor-general, on one occasion, in great warmth, striking the table, remarked, “Mr. Bower, you always object to the evidence.” At another time, looking on the face of a wretched victim undergoing the torture, he perceived symptoms of death, and fainted, when he was carried out of the hall; and on his return he was reproved by the chief-inquisitor, alleging that “what is done to the body is for the good of the soul.” Mr. Bower excused himself, urging “the weakness of his nature, which he could not help.” “Nature!” exclaimed the inquisitor, “you must overcome nature by grace!” But the colloquy ceased, as the miserable victim died at that moment under the torment!
While considering how he might escape from this horrid office, Mr. Bower was required to “conquer nature,” by the arrest of a nobleman, who was a personal friend. His alleged crime was some trifling expression regarding the particular garb of two friars, one of whom denounced him to the Inquisition. Being ordered to arrest his best friend in Macerata, he remonstrated with the inquisitor-general, urging, “My lord, you know the connexion—;” when the inquisitor, with all the sternness of his official character, interrupted him,—“Connexion! what, talk of connexion when the holy faith is concerned?” And, as he withdrew, he ordered, “See that it be done; the guards shall wait without;” adding, “this is the way to conquer nature, Mr. Bower.” Unable to save or to warn his friend, he proceeded with the guards, obtained admittance to his residence and to his bed-room, and found both the nobleman and his lady asleep. The lady awaking, shrieked on seeing the strangers, when one of the ruffian officers gave her a blow on the head, which was followed by blood. The nobleman was astonished at being thus arrested by his friend, but dared not to reproach him; while Bower could not look him in the face, in performing so shameful an act.
Mr. Bower announced the arrest, next morning, as he delivered the key to the chief-inquisitor, who commended him,—“This is done like one who is desirous of conquering the weakness of nature.” The nobleman was soon subjected to torture by the pulley, and died in three days after its infliction. His estates were then confiscated to the Inquisition, a small pension only being allowed to his widow, to whom the inquisitor wrote, desiring her to pray for the soul of her deceased husband, at the same time warning her against complaining of injustice or cruelty against the Holy Office.
Mr. Bower could endure his situation no longer, and he resolved on attempting his escape from Italy. He, therefore, solicited permission to make a pilgrimage to the house of the Virgin Mary, at Loretto; and this being granted by the inquisitor-general, he proceeded with his portmanteau, on horseback, concealing his valuable papers. He took his course through the Adriatic States for Switzerland; but the papers that he had taken with him were soon missed by the inquisitor-general, who offered a reward for his head of about £600 in English money, or £800, if brought alive to the Inquisition. His danger became imminent through this proclamation; as he found in a post-house a copy of it, and two of his countrymen, to one of whom he was known. He challenged the man, and threatened him; and mounting his horse, escaped, so that after many difficulties he reached Calais. At the hotel he found two Jesuits, who wore the red cross of the Inquisition; when he hastily left the room, and found that the packet would be three days before it sailed for England. He applied to a fisherman, who dared not venture to cross the Channel; and he was in agony, especially when on his return he was told by his hostess, in reply to his inquiry for the Jesuits, “Oh, Sir, I am sorry to inform you that they are upstairs, searching your portmanteau.” At that moment he heard voices talking loudly in another room, and, supposing them to be English, he entered, and recognised in one Lord Baltimore, whom he had seen at Rome. He entreated his protection, but that nobleman exclaimed, “Mr. Bower, you are undone; I cannot protect you: they are searching your apartment.” However, he and his friends guarded him to their boat; and, with four pairs of oars, soon reached a yacht that was taking a short cruise; and the wind being fair, they conveyed him safely to Dover.
Mr. Bower now relinquished his former religion, conformed to the church of England, and married. He became tutor in the family of Lord Aylmer, and found a generous patron in Lord Lyttleton. Numerous enemies from among the Catholics brought grievous accusations against him; but he vindicated himself from their slanders, and gained himself a high reputation by several literary works, especially his “Lives of the Popes,” in seven volumes quarto. He died in England, in the year 1766, as is believed, a sincere Protestant.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE INQUISITION IN GOA.
State of the Inquisition of Goa—Dr. Dellon’s sufferings in the Inquisition—Dr. Buchanan’s visit to Goa.
Portuguese bigotry completely triumphed in Goa. In its prosperity, nothing in India could be compared with it in grandeur. The capital was a city of churches: one of which was erected with extraordinary magnificence, in honour of Francis Xavier, “the Apostle of the Indies,” as he is called by the Romanists, as he died there, A.D. 1552.
This once celebrated city is now nearly deserted by all except the priests; and the country, once populous, is reduced to a few thinly inhabited villages. Their inhabitants are mostly baptised into the Romish faith: and a pagan native, or Mohammedan, is not suffered to live in the city; but the wretched people, sunk in superstition, are deplorably ignorant of Christianity.
Already we have seen (Chap. VIII.) how the Inquisition was established at Goa, by Cardinal Henry, at the request of Francis Xavier, under John III., king of Portugal. Its operations, in cruelty and terror, were like those of kindred establishments in Europe, sacrificing multitudes of its victims in prison, and many in public, by the auto da fé. But these will appear best in their true character, from the account given by Dellon.