Executioners

by Phil Clarke

  Deza was not the innovator that Torquemada had been. Instead, this exceptional inquisitor chose to emulate his predecessor in almost all areas in a bid to improve the efficiency of the Inquisition. He built on existing ideas. This allowed Diego de Deza the freedom to be more aggressive than the first Grand Inquisitor of Spain. Similar to Torquemada’s four sets of Instructions, Deza developed his own inquisitorial laws and called it his Constitution which comprised of seven articles. They were officially issued on 17 June 1500 in Seville and included an insistence for an examination of all unchecked towns and villages throughout the unified kingdoms as well as a hunt for all unorthodox literature. The new Inquisitor General also called for renewed resolve against all heretical acts, placing the responsibility to inform on all suspicious conduct at the doors of all good Catholics. Those that failed to make known any recognised heresy would risk censure themselves. A further six articles followed later on but, as with the initial seven, there was nothing groundbreaking within these laws though they did reveal the vigorous and merciless manner in which Diego de Deza planned to rule.

  Deza shared Torquemada’s anti-Semitic stance and was quick to unleash hell upon all Jews who refrained from converting to Christianity. Even the conversos who did agree to relinquish their nonconformist faith and be baptised were hated by Deza who believed, as did Torquemada before him, that these religious turncoats were secretly practising their old Jewish ways away from the prying eyes of the Spanish Inquisition. This belief led to a paranoid victimisation of all Jews whether they had switched faiths or not.

  At the time of Deza’s rule, there was a particular occurrence which infuriated the Grand Inquisitor. A great number of Jews were pouring into the country, homesick for their ancestral land. Those who had been expelled from Spain in 1492 under the reign of Torquemada now wished to come back and, pre­tending to be new arrivals rather than returning Jews, promised to accept and adapt to Christianity when questioned. Believing that they had no intention of truly converting, Deza wished to curb this mass homecoming and decreed that all Jews entering Catholic Spain should be immediately conveyed to the secular courts to be burnt alive. Many Jews chose to ignore this proclamation, risking their lives to be back in their homeland, and were subsequently sen­tenced to death or, if they renounced Judaism, hunted as conversos by Deza and his inquisitors.

  The Jews were not the only faith to feel the wrath of this Inquisitor General. There were still a sufficient number of mudejares, or Muslims, in the territory of Castile to concern Deza and, believing they too persisted with their unorthodox faith, praying to Allah and following his word in the Koran, targeted them for persecution. Much as Torquemada had done with the Jews, Diego de Deza forced the conversion of the remaining Muslims in 1502 with those refusing to renounce their heretical beliefs sent to the flames.

  Throughout his reign as Grand Inquisitor, Deza continued in his endeavours to emulate and outshine the accomplishments of Torquemada. His victimisation of the Jews and efforts to strengthen the laws of the Spanish Inquisition were not the only similarities between these first inquisitor generals of Spain. Their fanatical fervour and commitment to the cause ran parallel to one another and brought considerable opposition within the Church. Many believed Deza was overly cruel and heavy-handed in the way he managed the Inquisition and this unease began to grow throughout his ecclesiastical rule of Spain.

  The hostility towards Deza’s overzealous behaviour led to several uprisings against the Inquisition and even brought a charge of heresy against the Grand Inquisitor himself. Deza was accused of the very crime for which he had prosecuted so many – that of secretly practising Judaism. It is doubtful Deza was guilty of following a faith so vehemently hunted under his persecutory regime and this allegation was most likely an attempt to destabilise his powerful position. Efforts such as these seemed to succeed in chipping away at Diego’s supremacy at the head of the Spanish Inquisition for, when it came to a rather ugly affair involving one of his inquisitors in 1507, his position was not strong enough to withstand the pressure and Julius II was forced to intervene. He publicly called for a more restrained approach to the duties of the Holy See and clearly felt that Deza was not the man to direct this new, more temperate administration. Deza was forced to resign from the most illustrious of all his posts, bringing to an end a religious reign which, some believe, managed to surpass that of Torquemada in terms of terror.

  Despite this fall from grace, Deza did not lose his ability to obtain positions of great wealth and power. In his later years, he was offered yet another bishopric, giving him responsibility over the diocese of Toledo but – in a move possibly without precedent in the title-collecting life of the ex-Grand Inquisitor – he refused to accept the role. Fast approaching his eighties, Diego de Deza had grown too old and unwell to hold office and would soon succumb to his ills on 9 July 1523. Diego de Deza had acquired an assortment of commissions and titles during his lifetime from the chancellorship of Castile to the archbishopric of Seville and was even made executor to Queen Isabella’s will when she died in 1504. However, it was his actions while Grand Inquisitor of Spain that would be his legacy.

  With the enforced resignation, his period of office lasted a mere nine years, and yet in this short space of time Deza managed to chalk up a surprisingly large amount of victims. The figures are an approximation as no accurate records exist, but it is thought that between 1498 and 1507 Diego de Deza ordered the execution of 2,592 convicted heretics and sent nearly 35,000 to prison. Who knows to what terrible depths he could have reached if he had been allowed to remain in office?

  Diego Rodríguez Lucero

  There were many examples of widespread perse­cution by those holding the highest office within the Spanish Inquisition. However, such religious atrocities were not committed purely by the inquisitor generals. Many common inquisitors appointed through­out the Spanish territories etched their own scars upon society, inflicting terrible pains upon the towns and cities for which they were responsible. One could argue there was not a more reckless and ardent pursuer of the heretic than Diego Rodríguez Lucero who laid siege to the city of Córdoba in the opening years of the sixteenth century. Known to all as El Tenebroso – The Darkness – Lucero cast a sinister shadow over an entire city which saw many of its citizens sent to the stake and burnt alive.

  Little is known about Diego’s childhood. His early years are shrouded in obscurity. However, Lucero’s time as an inquisitor was very much in the spotlight. He was sworn into the role on 7 September 1499 after the incumbent inquisitor was found guilty of extortion and was forced to retire. Lucero would surpass these relatively minor crimes committed by his predecessor and the Córdoban authorities would quickly come to regret his appointment.

  He exploded onto the scene in such a way as to attract the attention of both supporters and oppo­nents alike. On 11 December 1500, he received a letter of commenda­tion from Ferdinand of Aragon expressing pleasure at the rise in the number of convictions in Córdoba, and the king also called for a sustained push for persecution with a focus on conversos who had re­verted back to their non­conformist faiths.

  Meanwhile, the local authorities endeavoured to obstruct the work of the Inquisition. As early as 1487, the Crown had to intervene, requesting that magistrates refrained from impeding the heresy hunters. Despite this royal appeal, in 1501 the mayor of Córdoba took it upon himself to highlight the Inquisition’s un­popularity in his town and attacked the Holy Office’s notary responsible for recording the confiscated assets. The inquisitor had the mayor stripped of his office, arrested and cast out of Córdoba as punishment. An example had been made. Lucero would not stand for any further outbursts from the enemies of the Inquisition and zeroed in on the prosperous communities of Córdoba.

  Córdoba was an affluent city set on the bank of the Guadalquivir River, deep in the heart of Andalusia in southern Spain. It had once been one of the richest cities in the world under Muslim rule, and was where many wealthy converso fa
milies resided. These powerful Andalusian nobles would not throw Lucero from his religious obligation. In fact, this inquisitor targeted the rich Córdobans and tore into them, spreading condemnation throughout their ranks. He set his sights on the moneyed members of the city which ensured sustained Crown approval, as the confiscated assets of the accused heretics were redistributed into the royal treasury.

  As well as filling up the royal coffers, the prison cells were also packed full with incarcerated heretics. This owed much to the questionable system of investigation under Lucero. He arrested subjects on the merest shred of evidence and used a number of ingenious, though improper, methods to achieve a prosecution. Diego de Algeciras, one of the prison assistants, was often called upon to create evidence with which to convict. He had no qualms lying under oath and often committed perjury in Córdoba and in the neighbouring town of Jaen in order to assist the Inquisition with their cleansing of Catholic Spain. Lucero also forced conversos to teach Jewish prayers to his Christian prisoners so he could spuriously claim that they practised Judaism.

  The main prison in Córdoba was the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos, which was actually an ancient Moor palace which was taken over by Ferdinand and Isabella and used as their summer residence. However, since 1482 it had been appropriated by the Inquisition as their headquarters and used to incarcerate the unorthodox believers they discovered in Córdoba. Its ancient Arabic baths were used for an altogether more sinister cleansing as they became the torture chambers. The onus was placed on informing on others and the torture techniques administered to the imprisoned persuaded many to betray relatives and loved ones. One such incident tells of a fifteen-year-old girl being stripped and whipped at the behest of Lucero to force her to denounce her own mother. There were clearly no depths to which Lucero would not stoop in order to obtain a confession or accusation and this lack of humanity resulted in the city of Córdoba being ripped apart by this over-zealous inquisitor.

  Conspiracy Theory

  On 26 November 1504, the impervious partnership of Ferdinand and Isabella was irrevocably broken when the Queen of Castile died in Medina del Campo aged fifty-three. Her death threw Spain into political turmoil as Ferdinand and Philip the Handsome – married to Ferdinand’s daughter, Joanna – contested supreme control over Spain. This period of instability caused many to fear for Spain and its loyal Catholic subjects. This included Diego Lucero, who was convinced his beloved country was being secretly undermined by conversos plotting to restore Judaism to its former greatness and replace Christianity throughout all of Spain. His obsession with this Jewish conspiracy caused Lucero to double his efforts, resolving to shed light on the secret schemers.

  One alleged conspirator was Juan de Córdoba known as the mad jurado who, Lucero believed, was a pro-Jewish millenarian activist. These Millenarians believed the end of the world was nigh and so any prosecution from the Inquisition for practising forbidden faiths meant little to them. Lucero ordered the demolition of two buildings, one of which belonged to Juan. He suspected that they were secret­ly being used as synagogues. He then proceeded to hunt heretics with renewed vigour and went on a frenzy in a bid to seek out more synagogues and prosecute enemies of Christian Spain. Less than a month after the death of Queen Isabella, Inquisitor Lucero ordered an auto-da-fé at which he sent 120 heretics to the stake. This was followed by a further twenty-seven conversos in May 1505. Diego Rodríguez Lucero was on the rampage against heresy.

  Not even international law could stop Lucero’s obsessive persecution when two suspected heretics fled to Portugal to escape the threat of the pyre. The inquisitor sent officials after Alfonso Fernández Herrero and Fernando de Córdoba, blatantly flouting international regulations by neglecting to ask for royal permission. Manuel the Fortunate, ruler of Portugal, demanded to hear the legal reasons for such a contravention. Yet again, Lucero was able to rely on the support of Ferdinand who appealed to Manuel not to obstruct the efforts of the Holy Office. This unsubtle threat was enough to clear Lucero of any law-breaking and he was allowed to continue unhindered with his hunt for Córdoban heretics.

  By 1505, Lucero was enjoying an unrestrained period of inquisitorial rule in Córdoba. The con­fidence this must have brought him was illustrated when he focused his attention on the most illustrious of his targets: Hernando de Talavera, the Archbishop of Granada. This much-loved octo­genarian, who had been confessor to the late queen, was known for the great work he did to promote Christianity throughout the area and was even respected by the Moors he endeavoured to convert. It was a strange choice indeed. However, Lucero was adamant that this popular high-ranking clergyman was part of the Jewish conspiracy and went about manufacturing evidence to fit his accusation. He turned to a Jewish woman in his custody whom he believed to be a prophetess. This seer had been regularly tortured by Lucero in the past to obtain dubious reports on the guilty of Córdoba and, again, she was used as a condemnatory tool in accusing the archbishop of using his palace residence as a synagogue. Further enforced prophesies resulted in Talavera’s entire household being arrested and his relatives tortured to such an extent that they confessed to Talavera’s guilt. Fortunately for the archbishop, he was eventually acquitted when Pope Julius II intervened and found the allegations to be false.

  Lucero’s unfounded allegations against one of the Pope’s most holy representatives, together with the unresolved position of the Spanish monarchy, soon saw Lucero on shaky ground. Ferdinand – his most vital ally – was caught up in affairs in Italy, leaving Philip free to take charge. Believed to be a fairer monarch in terms of religious orthodoxy, the conversos of Córdoba were hopeful that Philip would restore balance to the city while Ferdinand was out of the country. Lucero must have believed this too, for he called an immediate auto-da-fé to sentence to death another 160 prisoners in June 1506. Thankfully, orders from the serving sovereign came through to prevent a mass conviction and Lucero was removed from office. The relief in Córdoba must have been palpable. However, their escape from Lucero’s persecution would be fleeting.

  Lucero’s Downfall

  The freedom afforded to Córdoba would last only a few months. Unfortunately for the poor Córdobans, Philip I of Castile would fall mysteriously ill and die on 25 September 1506. Rumours of an assassination flourished though it was more likely to have been typhoid fever that took the new king. Philip’s sudden death allowed Lucero to return to his role, much to the chagrin of Cordoban society. Like a recurring virus, Lucero came back stronger and more virulent. He hit out at the nobles of the city and the surrounding areas in Andalusia, declaring them all practising Jews, and vowed to systematically prose­cute them. Knowing that a renewed campaign from a more ferocious Lucero would be unbearable, the Marquis de Priego and the Count de Cabra among others, resolved to make a stand against the inquisitor’s terrible deeds in early 1507. Priego expected an imminent investigation by Lucero, so had little to lose by fighting back. These Córdoban rebels called for Lucero’s arrest and they stormed the Alcazar, effecting a gaol break. As poor men, noblemen and clergy broke out of the thirteenth-century palace-turned-prison, Lucero managed to escape out the back making his getaway on a mule. While the authorities condemned the inquisitor’s abuses and excesses, his chief, Grand Inquisitor Diego de Deza, sent his nephew, Pedro Juarez, to prosecute the rebels in Lucero’s stead. Inquisitional order was resumed and the freed prisoners were soon returned to their cells. This brave response to the return of Lucero was still not enough to remove him permanently from office. This feat would require the intervention of Ferdinand who had long been Lucero’s constant supporter.

  Ferdinand returned from Naples, and was able to rule the Spanish territories as regent. With an unhindered position, he quickly took charge of the turbulent situation in Córdoba and, in conjunction with the Pope, removed Deza from the head of the Inquisition replacing him with Francisco Ximénez de Cisneros on 5 June 1507. He then called for Lucero to stand trial for the murderous mayhem he had inflicted upon the Andalusian
city and on 17 October of the same year, Lucero was tried and sentenced to imprisonment by a papal-appointed judge. Even with this official judgment passed, Lucero managed to avoid incarceration; such was the resilience and deep-rooted power of the inquisitor. It took almost a year for the Supreme Council to arrest him but finally in May 1508 he was taken in chains to Burgos to face a congregation which would investigate the atrocities that occurred in Córdoba.

  With such damning evidence against the fallen inquisitor, Lucero was found guilty of excessive violence and extreme prejudice in July 1508 while, with such a deficit of evidence against his prisoners, hundreds of Córdobans were released. Yet justice was not fully done. The executions at the stake went unpunished. Nearly 150 deaths by fire and yet Lucero’s punishment was nothing more than enforced retirement. Diego Rodríguez Lucero stepped out of the spotlight that had been for eight years focused firmly upon him and returned once more to relative obscurity living in the newly acquired town of Almeria where he worked as a teacher to the clergy.

  PART THREE: THE WITCH HUNTERS

  Witch-hunting Origins

  Belief in witches goes back to ancient times and was widespread throughout many cultures, including those of Mesopotamia and Egypt. During these times, witchcraft had both good and evil connotations. Spell-casting and magic was believed to have restorative powers and could improve even the crop yielded from a year’s harvest. How­ever, along with positive associations, witchcraft was also seen as harmful – a black art used for the purposes of evil – and so these early believers sought ways to defend themselves against such malevolent magic.