Chapter 70
Section 70 of A History of the Inquisition of Spain, Volume 4. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. A History of the Inquisition of Spain, Volume 4, by Henry Charles Lee. Book 9. Conclusion.
Chapter 1 Decadence and Extinction Part 2 With the accession in 1788 of Carlos IV, there opened for Spain a new and disastrous epoch. Timid, irresolute, indolent, he had fallen completely under the influence of his wife, Maria Luisa, an energetic and self-willed woman. Until 1792, he kept in office Florida Blanca, who was succeeded for a short time by Aranda,
and then power was grasped by Manuel Godoy, subsequently known as Prince of Peace. Cadet of an obscure family of Badajoz, he had entered the royal bodyguard, where he attracted the attention of the queen, whose favoured lover he was universally believed to be, as well as the favourite of her husband. He speedily rose to the highest dignities and became omnipotent. Although a court intrigue occasioned his dismissal in 1798, he was restored
in 1800, remaining arbiter of the destinies of Spain until the tumult of lackeys at Aranjuez in 1808, directed against him, caused the abdication of Carlos in favour of his son, Fernando VII. Light-headed, selfish, vain and unscrupulous, he was mainly responsible for the misfortunes which overwhelmed his country and from which it may be said not to have as yet recovered. The outbreak of the French Revolution gave a new importance to the Inquisition.
When the seductive theories of the French philosophers were preached as the foundation of practical politics, overturning thrones and threatening monarchical institutions with the doctrines of the social compact, the sovereignty of the people, and the universal brotherhood of man, the Holy Office might claim that, as the foundations of social order were based on religion, its labours were essential for the safety of the state, while the state recognised that it was the
most available instrumentality for the suppression and exclusion of the heresies of liberty and equality. In this tumultuous breaking down of the standards of thought and belief, in this emergence of a new order on the ruins of the old, the functions of the Inquisition adapted themselves to the exigencies of the times in other ways besides the increased sharpness and vigilance of its censorship. I have frequently had occasion above to refer to an alphabetical list of all the
persons denounced to the various tribunals from 1780 to 1820, some 5,000 in all, and this, taken as a whole, affords us an insight into the change in the objects of inquisitorial activity. Judaism and Islam and Protestantism no more claim its attention. The church is no longer threatened by enemies from without. What it has to dread is revolt among its own children. Three-fifths of the denunciations are for propositions largely among the cultured classes, including a fair
proportion of ecclesiastics. Their precise errors are not stated, but doubtless many were jansenistic and more were hostile to the claims of the church militant and to the absolutism of the monarchy. There is also a large class of cases, virtually unknown a century earlier, significant of a vital change in the intellectual tendencies of the nation, calling for the special vigilance of the Inquisition. Popular indifferentism is revealed in the numerous prosecutions for
inobservance or contempt of church observances. Even more noteworthy are those for outrages on images of Christ, the Virgin and the Saints, and even for sacrilegious treatment of the venerable sacrament. In many other ways was manifested the weakening of the profound and and questioning veneration which, for three centuries, had been the peculiar boast of the Spanish race. On the other hand, it is not a little remarkable that there are very few cases
of offences against the Inquisition, for, in all these forty years, there are but nine that can in any way be included in this class. At the same time, when we recall the old-time punctilious enforcement of profound respect. It argues no little decline in popular awe when, in 1791, a simple parish priest, Dr. Joseph Hines of Pelop, Alicante, dared to address the Valencia Tribunal in terms of violent indignation at the conduct of its secretary, Dr. Pascal Pérez,
when on a mission to collect testimony. He tells the tribunal that, if it does not dismiss Pérez, it will sink greatly in his estimation, and his whole epistle breathes a spirit of independence and equality wholly impossible at an earlier time. It was not without reason that, in 1793, the tribunal, in appealing for increase of salaries, complained of the decline in popular respect for its officials, which it attributed to their meagre pay and the curtailment of their
privileges. How completely the tribunals had lost their former energy is indicated by the abandonment about this time, as we have seen, volume 2, page 98, of the publication of the Edict of Faith, which of old had been so impressively solemnised, and had proved at once so fruitful a source of denunciations, and so powerful a means of maintaining popular awe. Coincident with this, and as though the Inquisition felt that it was on trial before the people,
there was a marked tendency towards amelioration of procedure, coupled with benignity in the treatment of culprits. Allusion has been made above to the introduction of the Audiencia de Cargos, through which the accused was afforded an opportunity of knowing what was alleged against him, and frequently of clearing himself without the disgrace of arrest and trial. There is a very suggestive instance of merciful consideration in 1791 in the case of Joseph Casals, a weaver,
charged before the Barcelona tribunal with the utterance of shocking blasphemies in the Church of Santa Catalina. A century earlier he would have been arrested, and, on proof of the offence, he would have been sentenced to scourging or the galleys. In place of this, Padre Miguel Alburque was instructed to report secretly as to the character of the accused, which he did to the effect that Casals had regular certificates of confession, but was of quick temper and occasionally
broke out in curses. Then a commission was issued to Albuquerque to summon Casals and to represent to him the gravity of his offence and of the punishment incurred and the mercy shown by the tribunal which would keep a watch on him. In pursuance of this, the good priest reported that Casals was deeply repentant and desired to be heard in confession, which he had permitted. The case is trivial, but of such was the bulk of inquisitorial business, and the temper in which
it was conducted was of no little import to the people at large. Partly this may be attributable to the modern softening of manners, partly to a growing sense of insecurity, and partly to the inertia which led the officials to shun all avoidable labour. It was becoming more and more a political machine, and neglectful of the objects of its creation. During the Inquisitor Generalship of Manuel Abad y La Sierra, from 1792 to 1794, we are told that in all Spain there were
but sixteen condemnations to public penance. Abad was an enlightened man. He thought of assimilating the inquisitorial procedure to that of other courts of justice, and consulted with Lorente as to the formula for such a reform. But conservatism, however relaxed in practice, was not ready for total abandonment of the old methods. His design became known, he was forced to resign and was relegated to the Benedictine monastery of Sopotran under a charge, as we have
seen, of Jansenism. In fact, an absolute renunciation of the old procedure would have largely deprived the Inquisition of its usefulness in its new political functions, to which its established methods were peculiarly adapted. When, in 1796, a powerful intrigue was formed for the overthrow of Godoy, the Inquisition was naturally selected as the only weapon with which to strike at the favourite. Three friars were found to denounce him, because for eight years he had
avoided confession and communion, and because of his scandalous relations with women. Had Inquisitor General Lorenthana been resolute, Godoy's fate might have been that of Olivide, but he was timid. Archbishop Des Puig of Seville and Bishop Muthkiv, then of Avila, who were the leaders of the plot, vainly assured him that Godoy's arrest would ensure success. He refused to act except under orders from Pius VI. Des Puig then prevailed upon his friend Cardinal Vincente to induce the Pope
to write to Lorenzana, reproaching him with his indifference to a scandal so hurtful to religion. It chanced that Vincenti's letter, enclosing that of Pius, was intercepted at Genoa by Napoleon, who, to ingratiate himself with Godoy, forwarded to him the correspondence. Godoy assured his position and took a mild revenge, which does credit to his sense of humour, by sending Lorenzana, Despuig and Muthkiv into honourable exile as special envoys to condole with the Pope on the
occupation of his territories by the french in fact capa manet describes the inquisition of the period as devoted to the unholy work of an inquisition of state in order to preserve its imperiled existence and its ministers as trembling at the sight of the infamous favourite when they had the honour of joining the crowd of his flatterers End of section 70.
