Only the British Isles, Denmark and Scandinavia were spared the papal Inquisition. But politics intervened, and in the 1400’s “haeritico comberando” enacted by the English parliament established for the first time the death penalty as punishment for English heretics, such as Wickliff and the Lollards who were a powerful religious political party. In 1533, Henry VIII repealed this statute but retained earlier ones along with the penalty of burning alive for heresy. “The dangerous admixture of politics and religion rendered the stake a favorite instrument of statecraft.”244
Under the reign of Phillip and Mary of England and their alliance with Spain, parliament reenacted all the previous legislation (1382, 1400, 1414) which provided for the burnings which followed. Elizabeth I repealed the acts of Phillip and Mary, but by now the old haeretico comburendo had become part of English law and survived another hundred years. The last execution for heresy in the British Isles was a male medical student of eighteen years named Aikenhead, who was hanged (not burned), in Edinburgh in 1696.245
In an ominous note for the future of the new world, inquisitors were deemed necessary components of missionary work and were dispatched to North Africa, Asia, Armenia, Russia, Greece, Ethiopia, Nubia, Jerusalem, Palestine, Syria and Egypt. There were disputes and rivalries among inquisitors, between provinces, and between state and church over money, power and jurisdiction. Nevertheless, the Inquisition moved forward rendering judgment and creating a system from which there was no escape. The reasons for this were two-fold: First, the inquisitors had no other work to do, and second, they carefully indexed and preserved records for hundreds of years, which provided a written police tabloid covering all of Europe. The meticulous nature of this process renders it harder to believe that so much is now missing or accidentally lost. It is easier to imagine that the depravity of the behavior evidenced by the inquisitors and the insistence on continuing the Inquisition for hundreds of years by the Church of Rome became an embarrassment eventually, and records which could corroborate the gruesome truth were destroyed.
The local parish priest played a critical role in discovering the personal secrets of those under his pastoral care. Professor Given explains that
In the thirteenth century the church mounted a major effort to get ordinary believers to confess (their sins) and receive communion at least once a year. In Languedoc, however, because of the problem of heresy, people were required to confess three times a year: at Easter, Pentecost and Christmas. When hearing confessions, parish priests were required to inquire diligently about heresy. If they learned anything, they were to put it in writing and send it on, together with the penitent, to their bishop.246
Is it any wonder that parish priests were the focus of anger from local people? The calculated pattern of suspicion and betrayal left village after village devoid of trust in either the church or the priesthood, many of whom were recruited from rural communities and initially regarded as common folk who had been educated and spiritually elevated. Betrayal by them was deeply distressing. Inquisitors were perceived as foreign intruders, but local parish priests had been seen as being “one of us.”
Lea states the following:
If secret information was required, there were spies and familiars trained to the work. The record of every heretical family for generations could be traced out of the papers … a single lucky capture and extorted (by torture) confession could put the sleuth-hands on the track of hundreds who deemed themselves secure, and each new victim added his circle of denunciations. The heretic lived over a volcano which might burst forth at any moment.247
An example is the case of Guilelma Maza of Castres, who lost her husband in 1302. In her grief she listened to two Waldensian missionaries for comfort. In 1327, after 25 years of orthodox observance, she is brought before the Inquisition of Carcassonne, where she confesses and repents. Her fate is unrecorded, but at least she would do penance, pay fines and be under active suspicion for the rest of her life. To those under suspicion, there was no flight if they wished to live in Europe. “Descriptions of heretics who disappeared were sent throughout Europe, to every spot where they could be supposed to seek refuge, putting the authorities on alert to search for every stranger who wore the air of one differing in life and conversation from the ordinary.”248
Since persuasion was ineffective bringing people to the Catholic Church, force was all that remained. And for the next steps in the history of the Inquisition, force it was to be. In order to reap the fruits of victory, it became apparent that organized, ceaseless persecution continued to perpetuity was the only hope of preserving Catholic unity. The Inquisition, according to Lea and others, did not seek to impress by high-mindedness but rather to paralyze by terror. Famous inquisitor Bernard Gui, who later became a pope, is noted as saying that the work of the inquisitor is to get people to reveal (betray) others because “each revelation leads to others, until the invisible net extended far and wide, and not the least of the benefits thense arising were the extensive confiscations which were sure to follow.”249 The mendicant orders, though vowing poverty and avoidance of worldly things, were evidently not above succumbing to greed and avarice.
In order for the Inquisition to succeed, absolute secrecy was the rule. Everyone inside the proceedings was sworn to silence. The judge, the two “impartial” men, and the notary were the only people present other than the accused. Interestingly, the notary, a man able to read and write in Latin, was held in such esteem that he was the only person in the trial whom the inquisitors could not appoint. That privilege was kept by local authorities or the bishop. Records from the initial summons to final sentence were considered so important that copies were made for bishop and safekeeping. The accused, place of residence and their punishment were also recorded. How serious this was for the people is aptly illustrated by the case of an old woman who in 1316 was brought before the tribunal because 50 years before she confessed and was “reconciled,” but because of current suspicion and the fact that she had appeared previously, she was sentenced to life imprisonment in chains.250 As a consequence, this woman was sure to die, but that death was not made part of this elaborate record-keeping system nor even considered blood on the hands of the men who passed the sentence and kept the records.
For any person outside the offices of the Inquisition, it was an act punishable by excommunication if they were found in possession of papers related to proceedings. It was also not uncommon in the early years for citizens to stage an insurrection against these offices for the purpose of destroying all books and records as a desperate means of self-defense, to protect friends and family members.
And, there was the nether world of the Inquisition, those of the lower classes, hired and paid to be messengers, spies and bravos, the armed gang known as familiars. These men were seen by the populace as the equivalent of modern-day gangland enforcers, who were particularly hated. These thugs were granted immunity for acts of violence in the service of their inquisitional duty. Because the local people were prohibited from resisting them, these servants of the Inquisition could “tyrannize at will over the defenseless population and … exhort which they could practice with virtual impunity by threatening arrest or accusation at a time when falling into the hands of the Inquisition was about the heaviest misfortune which could befall any man (or woman) whether orthodox or heretic.”251 Moreover, these familiars were the only people allowed to carry arms, in a social setting wherein all bearing of weapons was strictly prohibited. In thirteenth century cities of Verona, Paris and Milan, there were local ordinances against carrying arms, which were duplicated in most other municipalities in an effort to keep civil peace. Bishops were allowed to employ one arms-bearing servant as a sort of bodyguard. However, the “inquisitors could arm anyone he pleased, and invest him with the privileges and immunities of the Holy Office.”252
By the mid fourteenth century, scandals and public outrage could no longer be quieted. It was common knowledge that abuse of power, outrageous fines and the selling
of special licenses to support inquisitors lifestyles were rampant and out of control. In an “age of turbulence the carrying of weapons was rigidly suppressed in all peace loving communities.”253 Yet, for example, in 1346, the inquisitor of Florence, Fra Pierodi Aquila, “sold licenses to carry arms to 250 men, bringing him in annual revenue of about one thousand gold florins and proving sadly detrimental to the peace of the city.”254 The city retaliated, enacting new laws against the familiars. The Pope then reacted by excommunicating the entire population of Florence in 1376! All over the Italian peninsula, similar rebellions were taking place. It is simply not true that there was either public acceptance of the process or complete compliance by civil officials. Peasants rioted in France: Civil officials rebelled by passing laws against the abused of both inquisitors and their hirelings. Individuals subverted the process, lied and hid wherever and whenever they could. But the inquisitors had weaponry that was unavoidable in the longer run over these centuries. An oath of obedience was required by the Pope, transmitted through the rulers to the local civil authorities. This oath empowered the inquisitor to demand total cooperation. Refusal led to excommunication, which lead to prosecution, which in turn lead to prison or death.
In 1329 the French monarchy proclaimed that
Each and all courts, dukes, barons, seneschals, ballis, provosts, viguiers, castellans, sergeants of the kingdom of France are bound to obey the inquisitors and their commissioners in seizing, holding, guarding and taking to prison all heretics and suspects of heresy, and to execute diligently the sentences of the inquisitors, and to give to the inquisitors their commissioners and messengers, safe conduct, prompt help and favor, through all the lands of their jurisdiction in all the concerns the business of the Inquisition, whenever and how often so ever they may be called upon.255
Long before the autos de fe spectacles were made famous by the Spanish Inquisition, the European autos de fe were celebrated, particularly in France, originally called the “sermo generalis.” For these, all the people were assembled in the cathedral usually on Sunday or a holy day; a sermon teaching what the faithful were supposed to believe was preached; then the sentences of the accused were read aloud and the guilty handed over to the civil authorities present to be executed by burning that same day. Sometimes these auto de fe were held each week, sometimes every few days. The sentences were pronounced and the burnings commenced. The intent underlying these public condemnations was to strike terror in the hearts of the local people and to publicly shame the families of the condemned. Over the centuries during which this grisly observance lasted, the further effect was to financially ruin vast numbers of the population, while transferring their wealth to the church and its employees. Additionally, the progeny of all the condemned were prohibited from being hired in good urban jobs, or being appointed to government positions, and, therefore, they were also condemned to lives of near poverty. The names of all family members of the condemned were kept in permanent registers, always prone to suspicion, and guilt by association.
Very soon, there were certain assumptions that were taken for granted in the process, and they were rarely, if ever, mentioned in the records. One was the assumption that the state did the killing after the church condemned. The other was the assumption of confiscations, which was so ingrained that Lea tells us that “as a rule, no allusion to confiscation is (made) in sentences of the French Inquisition.” But Lea also states that even in those cases where confiscation is not directly mentioned as part of the sentence records, in the accounts of the royal stewards, there is evidence that the estates of the same accused were sold and money forfeited to church and state.256
As time passed, the spectacle of auto de fe grew at the request of the authorities: both papal and secular. The auto de fe was now always set for Sunday, with no other sermons permitted, and there were to be no auto de fe on feast days. To enhance the drama, a stage was built in the center of the cathedral with the accused standing on display, flanked by seated church and state officials. The inquisitor gave the sermon and administered the public oath of obedience to the statesmen as well as the threat of excommunication awaiting those who wavered in support of the Holy Office. Then the notary read all the “confessions” one after the other in the language of the people, not in Latin the official language of the church. Each of the accused was asked to verify the confession as true and if true, to repent. The sentences were then read with the accused brought forward, one by one, beginning with the lightest punishment and proceeding to the death penalty.
Those who were to be relaxed, or abandoned to the secular arm, were reserved to the last, and for them the ceremony was adjourned to the public square, where a platform had been constructed for the purpose, in order that the holy precincts of the church might not be polluted by a sentence leading to blood. For the same reason it was not performed on a holy day. The execution however was not to take place on the same day … and care was enjoined not to permit them to address the people, lest sympathy should be aroused by their assertions of innocence.257
As an example of the outcome of only two auto de fe presided over by notorious inquisitor Bernard Gui at Toulouse in 1310 and 1312, the first lasted four days, produced twenty condemned to wear yellow crosses (usually for life) and perform pilgrimages, sixty-five imprisoned for life, three imprisoned for life in chains, and eighteen burned. In the second of 1312, fifty-one were condemned to wear crosses, six to life imprisonment, ten who were already dead had their property confiscated, the bones of thirty-six ordered to be exhumed and burnt, five living persons burnt, five condemned because they had escaped and if ever found were to be burnt without trial.258
More information about the “wearing of crosses” may illuminate how dangerous this penance could prove to the bearer. Wearing of crosses is what the church termed “poena confusibilis” or humiliating punishment. Cross wearers were spit upon, harassed, beaten and refused either work or habitation. They lived in abject misery for the rest of their lives if they did not flee or commit suicide. However, Bernard Gui frequently permitted young women to forgo the wearing in order for them to obtain husbands. Dominic, founder of the Dominican Order, in 1208 orders converted heretics to wear two small crosses on top of the heart as a sign of sin and repentance for all to see. People being forced to wear their punishment as sign language on their clothes was a form of insurance that all would know the crimes because the majority was unable to either read or write. The two small crosses became “conspicuous pieces of saffron colored cloth, of which two arms were two and a half fingers in breadth, two and a half palms in height and two palms in width, one sewed on the breast and the other on the back.”259 If, during trial a perjury were committed, a second transverse arm was added at the top. If a Cathar, a third cross was placed upon the person’s cap. Prisoners temporarily liberated on bail wore a hammer. False witnesses wore red tongues embroidered on their tunics. A forger wore an alphabetical letter. The tunic with these emblems was never to be left at home or set aside while working. If the cloth wore out, the emblems were to be resewn on a new tunic. During the early years of the Inquisition, the term of wearing the emblems of shame was set in numbers of years, but later, the term was for life.260
As an example of the ruthless pursuit for which the Inquisition became known, is the case of a boy of fifteen, who was condemned in 1309 for “adoring” a heretic at his father’s command. (There is no information on the nature of the person, whether Cathar, Waldenes, etc.) The teenager was imprisoned for two years, then forced to wear the crosses. Because he could not get work wearing the tunic, he discarded it, went to work on the boats, but was discovered in 1312, condemned at the auto de fe in 1319, ran away again and was recaptured in 1321. In 1322 he was imprisoned for life on bread and water.261 There are thousands of such cases of women, teenagers, men imprisoned, tortured and killed on charges just as scant and paltry. By contrast, the trials in state courts still permitted the accused to clear themselves by their own oath and that of one legal w
itness, unless there was a legitimate accuser who appeared in person at court, but no one could be tried by the state through use of the inquisitional process without consent of the accused.
There is a quality of the relentless about the Inquisition which is difficult to imagine today, when so much of our lives revolve around the instantaneous. The veil of secrecy, the denial of knowledge of charges brought against the accused, the denial of witness for the defense, the confessions under torture which were categorically denied by the church as inflicting harm on prisoners, as was the fact that they had any part in the killing of people on a systematic basis, when conducted over hundreds of years, begins to have the feeling of inevitability, to take on the air of permanence or of the way it has always been. There is grinding, grueling sadism to it, particularly since it is done with such stunning self-righteousness. And, perhaps most numbing is the realization that beneath the surface of pomp and ceremony crept the greed, the lawlessness, and behavior devoid of every basic human decency.
Daughters of the Inquisition Page 40