We have here a method of enforced delation, the bishop proceeding upon the evidence so obtained (diffamatio) without the formalities of the accusatio. In other words the bishops are to make an inquest, so that from this date, 1184, we have in existence an episcopal inquisition.290 The decree does not appear to have been very effective, and after the Albigensian Crusades—it being necessary to follow that success by the institution of systematic prosecution of heresy for fear of the recurrence of trouble291—similar regulations were made by Councils, sitting at Avignon in 1209 and at Montpellier in 1215, also in the Fourth Council of the Lateran of the latter year. There was a new feature in the introduction of a priest in addition to a trustworthy layman as informer against heretics.292 The Council of Narbonne (1227) went a step further in ordering the bishops to appoint in each parish testes synodales, to make diligent enquiry concerning heresy and other matters and give information to their bishops.293 The phrase ‘synodal witness’ is new, though it may easily designate the same persons as those nominated by the previous councils. However this may be, the ‘synodal witnesses’ are entrusted with a new duty. They are not merely to inform, but to search out. This advance was to be anticipated; the informer easily blossoms out into the detective. Here we have a system of local Inquisition, which is enjoined again by a Council sitting at Toulouse two years later, which requires the synodal witnesses to visit all suspected houses and hiding-places.294
It is doubtful whether the orders of these two Councils were ever acted upon. In any case, not even the most well-intentioned reform of their procedure could make the episcopal courts satisfactory for the trial of heresy. The bishops are repeatedly urged to bestir themselves even on pain of deprivation.295 The fact was that some special machinery had to be devised. On the other hand, the authorization of the system of Inquisition was of the utmost importance. It was fully recognized by Innocent III, who in his Decretals carefully distinguished it from the two other judicial methods of accusatio and denuntiatio.296 Innocent was not thinking only, or perhaps mainly, of heresy in introducing a new judicial method—but of clerical reform. Even when the offence of a prelate was a matter of common notoriety it was difficult to bring the crime home to him when the system of accusatio required the concurrence of seventy-two witnesses. That system sheltered the high in office; and it was therefore, from the reformer’s point of view, defective. The greatest of the popes had given his imprimatur to a system, which beginning in the ecclesiastical courts, was, owing to its manifest advantages, destined to make a triumphal progress in the temporal courts also, eventually supplanting the system of accusatio altogether.
The definite starting-point of the Inquisition has been attributed to many dates. One enthusiast went as far back as Creation, finding the first inquisitor in the Almighty Himself, and successors to Him in Jacob, Saul, David, Eli, Jesus Christ, John the Baptist and St. Peter among others.297 Less ambitious authorities, content to go no further back than the Middle Ages, have discovered the starting-point in the legatine commission entrusted by Innocent III to Pierre de Castelnau, Arnaud of Citeaux and their colleagues.298 Whether they, with their lieutenant St. Dominic, were inquisitors or not turns on the interpretation of the word.299 In the loose general sense of searchers out, certainly they were—as others had been before them. The plain fact is, there were inquisitors before the Inquisition existed. But in the strict technical sense of officers of a tribunal specifically set apart for jurisdiction over heresy, they clearly were not.300 The tribunal of the Inquisition was not in existence in the pontificate of Innocent III. On the other hand, we have by this time advanced a considerable distance on the road to the formation of a new tribunal. Heresy has been recognized as so dangerous as to justify the organization of a crusade against it. The bishops’ courts have been found so defective in dealing with heresy that the device has been adopted of sending special commissioners to try to do what they have failed to do. The method of judicial procedure by inquisitio in place of accusatio has been officially approved. It wants but one other step to bring us to the foundation of the permanent delegacy for the prosecution of heretical pravity, which is the Inquisition.
This step was taken by Pope Gregory IX, who may therefore legitimately be said to have founded the Inquisition. Both the episcopal courts and the experiment of the occasional legate had been insufficient. Gregory made use of a powerful weapon which came readily to hand in the two great Mendicant Orders. Recognizing their potential utility, Gregory, herein followed by Innocent IV, showered upon them all manner of special privileges and exemptions and bound them by this means peculiarly to the service of the papacy. They were pre-eminently fitted, as it happened, for the special service of prosecuting heresy. They were still young in the first white heat of a new enthusiasm, while their zeal and their purity made them both influential and popular. They were also often endowed—especially the Dominicans—with high intellectual gifts and early acquired a great reputation as subtle and learned theologians. Thus while their poverty, their single-mindedness and their good works were an answer to anti-sacerdotal attacks, their theological attainments enabled them to combat the dialectical arguments of the heterodox. The uniformity and permanence of inquisitorial practice came largely from the selection of the two orders of the Friars to undertake the jurisdiction over heresy. In so far, therefore, as the choice of a particular date or incident for the commencement of an institution can be otherwise than arbitrary, it is legitimate to fix upon the delegation by Gregory IX of jurisdictional powers almost exclusively to the members of the Franciscan and Dominican orders as marking the beginning of the Inquisition as an organized tribunal.
Actually the first delegation made by Pope Gregory in regard to heresy was made neither to a Franciscan nor a Dominican, but to a man notorious for his extraordinary relations with Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, namely Conrad of Marburg. Whatever his status to begin with, he certainly became a delegate possessed of very wide powers eventually. He was in fact an inquisitor in precisely the same sense as Pierre de Castelnau and Arnaud of Citeaux had been inquisitors; and the question of his precise authority has exactly the same bearing on the question of the beginnings of the tribunal of the Inquisition as the question of their authority—no more.301
Eight days after the bestowal of the commission upon Conrad, namely on June 20, 1227, Gregory entrusted another inquisitorial commission to a Dominican. This, however, is not the significant date. The decisive event is the addressing of two bulls to France in April 1233, the first to the bishops, the second to the Preaching Friars. The first explains that owing to ‘the whirlwind of cares’ and ‘the presence of overwhelming anxieties,’ under which the bishops labour, the Pope has thought it well to divide their burdens and has decided to send the Preaching Friars against the heretics of France. The bishops are earnestly exhorted to treat the Brothers kindly and lend them all assistance in the fulfilment of their office. The second, and by far the more important bull, addressed to the Friars, empowers them ‘to deprive clerks of their benefices for ever, and to proceed against them and all others without appeal, calling in the aid of the secular arm if necessary, and coercing opposition, if needful, with the censures of the Church, without appeal.’302 Some have detected in these bulls an apologetic tone indicating uncertainty on Gregory’s part as to whether the bishops would acquiesce in this invasion of their powers, and it is also no doubt true that ‘the character of his instructions proves that he had no conception of what the invasion was to lead to.’303 On the other hand, there is here the clear evidence of a matured conception, based upon the experience of the multiplication of special commissions to individual legates, of a permanent delegation.304 By 1235 this system had penetrated not only through France, Toulouse and Burgundy, but also Lombardy, Sicily, Aragon, Brabant, Germany.305
The inquisitorial commissions entrusted to the Friars, it is important to note, did not involve the extinction of episcopal jurisdiction in matters of heresy. In 1234 Gregory is found threatening the bishops of the province of Narbonne, if they do not show due energy against heretics, and making no mention of the new authority.306 As yet the friars-inquisitor are regarded only as a more efficient supplement to the ordinary ecclesiastical tribunals. Gregory intended that bishops and inquisitors should work together, and bishops had to concur in the friars’ sentences. Plainly there was not unnatural antagonism, bishops wishing to treat inquisitors simply as expert advisers, inquisitors aiming at becoming the real judges. In 1247 Innocent IV treats the bishops as the real judges: yet in the numerous sentences of the celebrated inquisitor, Bernard de Caux, recorded between 1246 and 1248, there is no trace of episcopal concurrence.307 In 1248 the Council of Valence had to bring pressure upon bishops to observe the sentences of inquisitors.308 Between 1250 and 1254 the director of the proceedings of the Carcassonne Inquisition who makes the interrogations and imposes the sentences is a bishop: but it is not certain whether he was acting in his episcopal capacity or as a special papal commissioner. Such commissions were rarely given to bishops, as the popes much preferred, as a rule, to use the friars. The root fact was that to perform his special duties efficiently an inquisitor needed to devote his entire time and attention to them: and thus, as it became more and more apparent that heresy was no mere ephemeral menace which could be stamped out once for all, but a lasting trouble which had constantly to be met, so the Inquisition, first regarded as a temporary expedient to deal with an emergency, developed into a permanent institution. So also the efforts of the bishops, either to retain the jurisdiction over heresy in their own ordinary courts or to superimpose their authority over the inquisitor in his extraordinary court, were alike doomed to failure. As a matter of fact, probably the average bishop was too much immersed in other cares and interests to trouble to secure his prerogative in the matter of heresy.309 Thus it was that before the end of the thirteenth century the Inquisition had come to be an intrinsic part of the judicial organization of the Church.
The pontificate of Gregory IX is in more ways than one a critical period in the history of the repression of heresy. It saw the first clear authorization of the death penalty for the obdurate heretic. Capital punishment had at times been shown to be the popular remedy for heresy; it had sometimes been adopted by the secular arm, sometimes approved by the clergy. But it had not been legalized in the empire, formally sanctioned by the temporal law of the world, as the general rule of Christendom. The first public law of Europe enjoining it was the work of the Emperor Frederick II. That the most extraordinary member of the house of Hohenstaufen, being a man who despite a curious strain of superstition in him was a rationalist and a sceptic, should have been responsible for this legislation may at first sight appear astonishing. An Italian, not a German, brought up among the half Greek, half Saracen influences of Sicily, drawing his inspiration rather from Averrhoës and Arab free-thought than from any Christian source, amazingly versatile, poet, lover of learning, statesman, diplomatist, his outlook upon the world was altogether individual, his intellect powerful and singular, untrammelled by convention. He was a medley of strange contradictions: he protected Jews and Mussulmans; he persecuted heretics. The Averrhoïst heretics from Islam interested him, the heretics from Catholicism not at all.
On November 22, 1220, Frederick produced his first constitution for Lombardy.310 This repealed the penalties of Frederick Barbarossa in his edict of 1184, confiscation of property and outlawry, penalties severe enough, because outlawry in the Middle Ages was a terrible punishment, putting the culprit at any man’s mercy. This first constitution appears to have been inspired by Honorius III.311 A second constitution of March 1224, published at Catania for the whole of Lombardy, first introduced the death penalty—death at the stake; but at the discretion of the judge, the loss of the tongue might be substituted.312 In 1231 in the Constitutions of Melfi, which applied indeed only to Sicily, this element of choice was no longer included, and the penalty was made absolutely death by fire. In 1238 this regulation was extended to the empire, being afterwards introduced into the Sachenspiegel and Schwabenspiegel of Germany.313 Thus death by fire became the recognized punishment for heresy in the empire. In 1226 Louis IX issued ordinances prescribing severe punishments for heretics; but at the time the use of the stake was general in France, and it was formally accepted as the legal punishment in the Etablissements of Louis IX in 1270.314
In view of what Frederick II did in his Constitutions, some historians have placed upon his shoulders the full responsibility for the horrors of the stake. This is both unfair and unhistorical. The blame attaches to no single man. The fact of first giving sanction in civil law to death by burning is certainly important, but the importance can easily be exaggerated. Frederick was only giving legal recognition to the actual practice of France and Germany; only introducing what was customary elsewhere into Italy, where tolerance had on the whole been general. Some importance should also be attached to the revival of the study of Roman Law, which showed that Manichæans had suffered death in days before Constantine. In the part played by Frederick II we shall be wise to recognize not something catastrophic but rather a link among very many in a lengthy chain of development.315 Nor must we forget the significance of the order that burnings are to take place ‘in conspectu populi.’ This is surely an answer to a popular demand that the execution of heretics should be made a public example, a salutary spectacle? The examination of the force of public opinion is almost always more fruitful than that of the motives of individuals, however powerful.
What was the attitude of the Church in its crusade against heresy towards the action of Frederick? Being crucial, the question is exceedingly controversial. There have been apologists for the Church who have argued that the whole blame for the burning of heretics rests with the secular power, that Gregory IX had a positive aversion to the idea, that Frederick II’s laws against heretics are to be regarded as an attempt to humiliate the Pope and wrest from the Church jurisdiction which properly belonged to it. This argument makes the establishment of the Inquisition a measure of self-defence, a strategic blow delivered in the great war between the secular and ecclesiastical authorities.316
This ingenious theory will not stand close examination. There is in the first place the prima facie probability that an unorthodox emperor, anxious to utilize the question of heresy in a conflict with the papacy, would rather protect than prosecute it. In the second place, there is really no evidence for discovering in Frederick’s action an elaborate Machiavellian device; while we have sufficient evidence that Gregory did approve the burning of heretics.317 There seems clearly to have been clerical influence behind the constitutions. The constitution of 1224 has been ascribed to the influence of a certain German prelate, Albert, Archbishop of Magdeburg, imperial legate in Italy, who wanted to see heretics treated in Italy as they were in his own country, and who therefore induced the emperor to give legal sanction to the death penalty.318 Even more significant would appear to have been the part played by the Spanish Dominicans, Guala and Raymond of Peñaforte. Guala was Bishop of Brescia in 1230, and Brescia was the first town to place among its municipal laws the Lombard Constitution of 1224. The Bishop was in constant communication with Gregory, and when Rome followed the example of Brescia, it is surmised, though it cannot be proved, that Guala was responsible for this, as also for the Constitution of 1231.319 This is conjecture, and so is the alternative theory which attributes the legal establishment of the death sentence not so much to Guala as to Raymond.320 Whatever may be the truth concerning clerical influence prior to the promulgation of the Constitutions, the question of the subsequent attitude of the Church towards them is not a matter of conjecture.
In his bull, Excommunicamus, Gregory orders that heretics, condemned by the Church, shall be handed over to the secular arm and punished by the merited penalty (‘puniantur animadversione debita’). What this punishment is, is not expressly mentioned, but inasmuch as all other possible penalties are mentioned by name—imprisonment, excommunication, infamy, deprivation of civil rights etc., we are left by a process of elimination with the death penalty as the only conceivable end for the obdurate heretic abandoned to the secular arm.321 Only wilful blindness can misinterpret the phrase ‘animadversione debita,’ especially as its meaning seems to be forcibly illustrated by the practice of the Senator Annibaldi who ruled Rome in Gregory’s name. In 1231 he issued a decree, introducing the imperial constitution into the city and establishing that each senator, on admission into office, must pronounce the ban of the city against all heretics in it, seize upon all who are pointed out as heretics by the inquisitors and punish them within eight days from the passing of sentence. Here Annibaldi used the Pope’s euphemism, ‘merited penalty.’ The same year several heretics were seized in Rome, some imprisoned, but the obdurate burnt.322
If it may still be felt that there is some doubt regarding the personal feeling of Gregory IX about Frederick II’s action, there can be no doubt at all as to his successor, Innocent IV, who gave complete pontifical sanction to the Constitutions by inscribing them in extenso in a bull entitled Cum adversus haereticam pravitatem, issued in 1245.323
The Church did more than simply give its formal approval to secular legislation against heresy: it saw to it that the lay authority put its legislation into practice.
It was for the Church to seek out, arrest, examine and condemn the heretic; it was the function of the State to free the Church from the guilt of blood by arranging for the actual execution of the impenitents, the canon thus being reconciled with harsh necessity. Apportionment of its duties in the matter of heresy to the State by the Church was no new thing in the days of Gregory and Innocent. The resolutions of earlier councils had referred significantly to the danger of popular revolutions, did not the secular authority play its part, and had threatened that disobedient lords might find their lands and goods given away to others more zealous or more prudent.324 The decree of Verona (1184) had claimed excommunication as the penalty for failure to execute the imperial laws (at that time those of Barbarossa) against heretics; and the Fourth Council of the Lateran, enjoining an oath upon all secular rulers that they will banish all heretics from their lands, declares their vassals to be absolved from fidelity in the case of non-compliance.325
Already, before the days of Innocent IV, it had been made perfectly plain that the Church not only desired and expected the execution by the secular authority of its own laws against heretics, but that it was prepared to use all available means to compel it to do so. Innocent IV placed the coping-stone upon this system by his famous bull issued to all the lay rulers of Italy in 1252, known as Ad extirpanda.326 This bull is remarkable for the thorough and systematic nature of its provisions. To the end that the pest of heresy may be uprooted, all lay rulers are to swear to carry out the laws against heresy on pain of fine and of being held an infamous perjuror and fautor of heretics.327 Every civil magistrate within three days of his entrance into office is to appoint twelve good Catholics, two notaries, two senators, two friars from the Prædicants, two from the Brothers Minor, whose duties are to search out heretics, seize their goods and hand them on to the bishop. These officials are to enjoy a variety of privileges and to be free from all interference in their work. The civil magistrate is to hand over all heretics within a fortnight of their capture either to the bishop or the inquisitors.328 Those condemned are within five days of sentence to be dealt with by the secular arm in accordance with the Constitutions (of Frederick II). The secular authority is also required to inflict torture on those heretics who refused to confess or inculpate their confederates, to see to the exaction of fines and destruction of heretics’ houses, to keep lists of those defamed of heresy.329 These statutes, and all others which might subsequently be added against heresy, are to be religiously preserved in the statute-books of every city, on pain of excommunication for any non-compliant official, of interdict for any recalcitrant city. No attempt must be made to alter these laws or to observe any other laws which may be found to be in contradiction to them.330
Various slight alterations and modifications were subsequently made in the terms of this all-important fulmination. But with only insignificant revisions it was reissued by Alexander IV in 1259, and in 1265 by Clement V, who, however, inserted the word ‘inquisitor’ in places where previously only bishops and friars had been designated. In the main the bull remained unaltered, a lasting monument both to the Church’s power in that age and of its attitude towards secular action with regard to heresy. It was for the Church to command where her interests were concerned; she expected to be obeyed and, in case of defiance, had the necessary force to compel obedience. Excommunication and interdict in those days were no empty words. To be placed outside the communion of the Church was even more than being outlawed from the Empire, equivalent to being placed outside civilization; it was to be deprived of all rights, made any man’s legitimate prey. And if excommunication was more injurious to the simple citizen than to the prince or noble, still the latter had much to fear. The ban of the Church relieved his vassals from their allegiance and was an invitation to his enemies to march to his despoil. In the eyes of the believer excommunication entailed something very much worse than even such material trouble and loss; it meant the exclusion from the greatest of means to salvation on earth, the imperilling of salvation in eternity.
There was, as a matter of fact, no reluctance on the part of the state to the task of persecuting heretics, as the secular legislation of Henry II of England, Barbarossa, Alfonso II and Pedro II of Aragon abundantly testifies. But few secular magistrates would be willing to incur so great a material and spiritual risk as excommunication merely for the sake of a few fanatical schismatics.
The argued justification of the now well-established system of persecution, of which Ad extirpanda is the coping-stone, we find in Thomas Aquinas. In the Church’s procedure in respect of heretics he sees proof of her deep mercy and charity. Her aim is the retrievement of the prodigal, his penitence and return to the fold. She aims not at punishment, but forgiveness. For the penitent all is well, only for the obdurate and those who have relapsed after reconciliation is there punishment. It is meet that these should suffer, for in her kindness to the individual the Church must not jeopardize the welfare of the whole community. Heresy is the most terrible of all offences. To corrupt the faith is a far worse crime than to corrupt the coinage.331 The latter is an aid to our temporal existence, the former an absolute necessity for the eternal life of the soul. If then the coiner be deemed worthy of death, how much more the heretic! The argument of analogy is fortified by the text of Scripture. The methods of the Inquisition are found to be justified by Christ’s words: ‘If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered, and they shall gather them and cast them into the fire and they are burned.’ Thus the sayings of the Founder of Christianity were made to sanction a system of cruelty utterly abhorrent to the whole tenor of His teaching.332
By the willing labours of the two Mendicant orders the Inquisition was introduced into most of the countries of Europe during the course of the thirteenth century. Sometimes the two co-operated, as for example in Aragon, Navarre, Burgundy and Lorraine. But there was a good deal of jealousy between them, and sometimes friction, so that it was generally found expedient to assign Franciscans and Dominicans to different areas. Thus the former were given the eastern portion of France south of the Loire; the latter the western. Italy was also divided, each order being allotted carefully defined districts by Innocent IV in 1254. Northern France, Germany and Austria were entrusted to Dominicans; eastern countries, Bohemia and Dalmatia, to Franciscans.
The tribunal met with varying measures of success in the different countries of Europe, and in early days encountered considerable opposition and other difficulties in each.
In Languedoc the way for the Inquisition had been well prepared by the Albigensian Crusade: yet even so it was far from smooth. The zealous proceedings of Guillem Arnaud and his assistants provoked the bitterest popular resistance.333 An assistant, Ferrer, was expelled from Narbonne; Arnaud himself from Toulouse. But his unconquerable spirit, assisted by Gregory IX’s support, triumphed over popular hatred. Particularly in 1241 and 1242 the inquisitors were exceedingly active, so much so that in desperation certain Cathari set upon Arnaud and several others and did them to death. Not by such means could the Inquisition be worsted. The Count of Toulouse, who had been planning to reassert his independence, was forced to become completely reconciled to the papacy, and as an outward and visible sign of submission to take up arms against his own subjects by besieging the last fortress of Catharism in the land, the fortress of Montségur. The fall of Montségur and the holocaust of heretics which followed it, together with improved organization, enabled the Inquisition to make better headway. A new difficulty, however, arose in 1290 in the shape of strong protests against the alleged cruelties and injustices of two inquisitors, Nicholas d’Abbeville and Fulk de Saint-Georges. The complaint that Nicholas had condemned the innocent and wrung false confessions by cruelty was laid before Philip IV. There was particularly strong feeling aroused by the posthumous proceedings taken against a noted citizen of Carcassonne, a great friend of the Franciscans, named Fabri, who was accused of having been hereticated on his death-bed. The defence of Fabri’s memory was undertaken by a remarkable man, a Franciscan, named Bernard Délicieux. The inquisitors represented Délicieux as a deliberate adversary of their tribunal; but when in 1301 Philip sent two representatives into Languedoc to inquire into the causes of trouble, they called to their assistance the resolute Franciscan, who suggested the suspension of the inquisitors pending investigation. The case was argued out before the King, who came to the conclusion that the complaint had been justified, that the inquisitors had been guilty of grave excesses, of lawless exactions and the manipulation of evidence, and took the unprecedented step of removing both Nicholas d’Abbeville and Fulk de Saint-Georges. At the same time he deprived the inquisitors of the right to make arbitrary arrests. Philip’s attitude towards the activities of the tribunal in Languedoc was not based upon principle, but was dependent upon the varying circumstances of his quarrel with Boniface VIII. Thus when, as at this time, French king and pontiff were quarrelling, it was demonstrated that the Inquisition in France existed only on sufferance and that its peculiar privileges, derived from the papacy, automatically ceased during such disagreement. On the other hand, in 1304, when a reconciliation between the combatants had been effected, a compromise was arranged: whereby it was settled that royal officials should give every assistance to the inquisitors, when called upon to do so; but on the other hand these officials were to visit the inquisitorial prisons, and to prevent abuses, and independent action on the part of inquisitors without the co-operation of the bishops was to cease.
It was not long before complaints against the Inquisition were renewed—the most important charge being that good Catholics were forced into pleading guilty to heresy by the use of torture and imprisonment.334 This time an appeal was made to the Pope, Clement V, who sent two cardinals to investigate at Carcassonne and Bordeaux.335 They seem to have discovered many abuses in the management of the prisons and to have become satisfied of the genuineness of some at any rate of the allegations against the tribunal; and Clement made a praiseworthy attempt at reform. In 1312 the Council of Vienne336 issued a number of canons to this end, known as Clementines, which required that in the infliction of torture the inquisitors must have the concurrence of the bishop, also in the supervision of prisons. Excommunication was threatened against any who should abuse his power in order to satisfy personal animus or greed. The restrictions imposed on inquisitorial action by the Clementines were most bitterly resented by the great inquisitor Bernard Gui.337
With the death of Clement such vexation disappeared. The Clementines were indeed republished by John XXII, but it was at once clear that he had no desire to interfere with the Inquisition. The feeling of freedom enjoyed by the Inquisition in Languedoc is evidenced by its triumph over its former enemy, Délicieux. During the days of Pope Clement he had been suffered to live in peace; now he was charged with having impeded justice and with having compassed the death of Benedict XI by poison. Overcome by repeated tortures, he threw himself upon the mercy of the court; found guilty on the first charge, he was condemned to perpetual imprisonment. This event in 1319 marked the victory of the Inquisition in Languedoc. Now without fear of opposition it could prosecute its labours in persecution, systematized, unremitting, relentless. Heresy was extirpated, the finishing touch to the Albigensian Crusades supplied, and the distinctive features of south-eastern France, as far as possible, blotted out. The irony of the situation is that in accelerating this process the Inquisition was unconsciously assisting the aggrandizement of the royal power of France, with whose centralizing policy the existence of so powerful an independent tribunal was eventually found to be incompatible.
The beginnings of the attempt to extirpate heresy north of the Loire are associated with the hated name of Robert le Bugre who, armed with a somewhat vague authority from Gregory IX, is found active from the year 1233 in La Charité, Péronne, Cambrai, Douai, Lille, his aim—it has been said—‘not to convert but to burn.’338 He aroused the jealousy of the bishops, who informed the Pope that heresy was non-existent in their provinces. The results of Robert’s enthusiastic labours convinced Gregory that the episcopal assurances had been misleading, that heresy was in reality rampant, so that he entrusted his delegate with a special commission and ordered the bishops to support him. Thus fully recognized, the inquisitor traversed Flanders, Champagne,
Burgundy in a passion of religious energy, finding many victims and producing widespread consternation. But his career was a short one: found guilty of numerous excesses, he was deprived of his commission and relegated to prison.
After this we do not hear of holocausts. There was, in reality, little heresy in northern France, and the Dominicans, to whom the scouring of heretics in the country was entrusted, had not a great deal to do. Their labours, however, received the whole-hearted support of Louis IX, who liberally supplied them with money; their tribunal was well organized, the officers vigilant. The first auto-da-fé recorded to have taken place in Paris occurred in May, 1310, when a woman called Marguerite la Porète was the principal victim. She had written a book, the thesis of which was that the sanctified soul could without sin satisfy all the cravings of the flesh. Her followers would appear to have been the chief prey of French inquisitors in the latter part of the century.
There are illustrations during this period of the efficacy of the Inquisition even against powerful personages, most notably perhaps Hugh Aubryot, prévôt of Paris339 and builder of the Bastille, who, incurring the animosity of the University of Paris, found himself brought up on a flimsy charge and condemned to perpetual imprisonment; but in France the Inquisition did not rest on very secure foundations. It might be useful when heresy was rife and the proceedings of inquisitorial confiscations brought money into the royal exchequer; but success in coping with heresy, that is to say efficiency on the part of the tribunal, rendered it no longer an object of solicitude to the crown.340
By far the most notable fact concerning the Inquisition in France was its dependence on the crown. An interesting illustration of its subordination was given in 1322, when the tribunal absolved a certain abbot from the charge of heresy. The procureur-général was not satisfied with this finding and appealed against it, not to the Pope, but to the Parlement. The matter was one clearly coming within the province of a spiritual, not a temporal court, yet the Parlement calmly assumed jurisdiction at the instance of the royal officer. A yet more outstanding case arose in 1330, when Philip sent a representative, de Villars, to redress encroachments by ecclesiastical courts upon royal courts in Toulouse. Being ordered to produce his registers by de Villars, the inquisitor of Toulouse appealed not to the Pope but to the King. In 1334 Philip, making known his royal pleasure that inquisitors shall enjoy their ancient privileges, makes it clear that they are to be regarded as derivative from the crown. The inquisitor is looked upon as a royal official.341 The two most noteworthy inquisitorial trials in France were both of a political nature, the state making use of inquisitorial machinery for its own ends, those of the Templars and Jeanne d’Arc. The great Schism, and still more the Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges, by weakening the hold of the papacy, enlarging the independence of the Gallican Church, and aggrandizing the Parlement still further weakened the position of the Inquisition. Not only the Parlement but the University of Paris was a formidable antagonist and rival. The latter arrogating to itself a supremacy in theological matters, regarding itself as arbiter in all matters of doctrinal speculation, acquired the authority which the Inquisition lost. The tribunal was still active in the fifteenth century, but it was finding the question of expenses a difficult problem, and the growth of indifference to the penalty of excommunication made its task harder. An effort was made by Nicholas V in 1451 to restore the former powers of the Inquisition and a wide definition was given to its authority. In France, however, it had lost too much in prestige to allow of its being revivified.342 When Protestantism entered the country in the sixteenth century it was not the Inquisition that was employed against it, but the University of Paris and the so-called chambre ardente of the Parlement—national institutions under royal control. The days of the Inquisition in France were over.
The history of the Inquisition in Germany opens with the careers of Conrad of Marburg and Conrad Tors, who carried on a fanatical crusade against Waldenses and different pantheist sects, of which the Amaurians and Luciferans were the chief, the methods of their persecution being purely arbitrary and leaving the accused practically no opportunity of defence. Conrad of Marburg’s execrated existence was terminated by his murder in 1233.343 That inquisitors were working in Germany through the latter part of the thirteenth century we know; but they do not appear to have accomplished much. After the publication of the Clementines, however, new efforts were made to suppress the Beghards and similar unauthorized associations, but the work seems to have been carried out rather by episcopal courts than by friars specially deputed by the pope. It was not until 1367 that, with the appointment by Urban V of two Dominicans, a thorough attempt was made to organize the papal inquisition in Germany. Pressure was brought to bear upon the Emperor Charles IV, and in 1369 he issued edicts extending the fullest possible authority to the papal delegates with a view to the eradication of the Beghards. Under threat of severe punishment all prelates were enjoined to obey the orders of the inquisitors with a good grace, while in order that their privileges might be secured certain high nobles were appointed to protect the inquisitors and to deal with any complaints they might make. Later on, Charles IV entrusted the Inquisition with a new power, that of censorship, for the Beghards derived much of their influence from the circulation of pamphlets in the vernacular.
Fortified by the imperial favour, Kerlinger, the principal delegate, displayed great energy at Magdeburg, Erfurt, Mühlhausen, etc.; and notwithstanding the occasional opposition of a jealous episcopate the Inquisition had made such good progress by 1372 that it had apparently succeeded in driving its enemies out of northern and central Germany. These were the days of the Flagellants and of the dancing mania as well as of Beghards and the Brethren of the Free Spirit. There certainly seemed to be no less need of organized repression; nevertheless the Inquisition in Germany after the days of Kerlinger tended to lose ground. Complaints made against its recent proceedings were found on investigation by Gregory XI to be well founded, and the papal disapprobation armed the episcopate against their rivals. As in France, so in Germany, the Schism had the effect of still further reducing the influence of the Inquisition. Persecution of Brethren of the Free Spirit continued late into the fifteenth century: but heresies far more formidable than the mystic antinomianism which had been the characteristic heresy of Germany were about to dawn. The intellectual force in men such as Johann Wessel, Reuchlin and Erasmus had infinitely greater power than a perverted pantheism. And when Lutheranism took hold upon Germany, there was no powerful Inquisition to check it. Had there existed in Germany such a tribunal as had stamped out Catharism in Languedoc, it might, so far as we can tell, have succeeded in silencing Luther, while he was still an unknown monk of Wittenberg, before he had come to apprehend the full significance and the ultimate developments of his famous theses. But when the hour came of the Church’s greatest danger from heresy in Germany, the weapon which it had used with such tremendous effect in earlier days had been hopelessly blunted.
The publication of Frederick II’s Constitutions and the activities of Gregory IX introduced a new era of intolerance into Italy, where apparently tolerance had hitherto been the rule. Inquisitorial activity started in Florence and in Rome; it was carried further afield by several perfervid champions, of whom the best known was Peter Martyr, the scene of whose labours was first Milan, then Florence. In Florence persecution had become so menacing that a formidable rising was provoked. This was the occasion of Piero’s coming to Florence, where he at once formed a company on the model of one he had created in Milan for the protection of Dominicans, giving it the title of the Compagnia della Fede. The Florentine inquisitor, with this protection, proceeded with his persecutions and a bloody conflict was provoked, which was as much one between Guelph and Ghibelline as between orthodox and heretic. Peter Martyr led the banners of the faith with such good effect that the forces of heresy were badly beaten and the city reclaimed for Pope and Inquisition. He was next engaged as inquisitor in Cremona and again in Milan. Though there is no record of his proceedings there, that he was as ardent a persecutor as before seems proved by his assassination at Milan in 1252.
As a practical memorial of the martyr’s enthusiasm a voluntary association similar to those which Piero had himself founded in Milan and Florence was formed among the upper classes of the principal Italian cities, the name crocesegnati being given to them, for the protection and assistance of inquisitors. As devoted and determined a champion as even Peter Martyr had been was found in Rainerio Saccone of Vicenza, who undertook the task of combatting heresy in Lombardy, where it was very strong owing to large migrations from Languedoc. Reorganizing and strengthening the Lombard Inquisition, he achieved considerable success with the assistance of Innocent IV, who at this time issued the bull Ad extirpanda.344 With the accession of Alexander IV activity in Lombardy was still further increased. The number of inquisitors was doubled, and Rainerio announced that hitherto he had shown incomparable mildness, henceforth he would be rigorous. The chief obstacle—a formidable one—to the complete success of the tribunal in Lombardy was the power of the two great Ghibelline nobles, Eccelin da Romano and Uberto da Pallavicino, into whose territories not even a determined inquisitor dared enter. A crusade against the former, organized by Alexander, after varying fortunes proved successful, and the March of Treviso, hitherto closed to the Inquisition, was laid completely open.
A yet greater success was achieved by the Holy See in 1266, when Charles of Anjou triumphed over the Ghibellines at Benevento and the kingdom of Sicily passed into full obedience to the papacy. Two years later the last of the Hohenstaufen in a futile attempt to regain Italy for his house perished on the field of Tagliacozzo, and with him the last chance of the imperial faction. Uberto had espoused the cause of Conradin and the young prince’s failure involved the downfall of the Lombard noble. The story of the fortunes of the Inquisition in Italy being largely that of the fortunes of Guelph in the strife with Ghibelline, this Guelph triumph naturally gave a great impetus to the Inquisition. It had now practically no political obstacle to face, and it immediately extended its operations into all Ghibelline territories, and although there were occasional outbursts against it, as in Parma in 1279, when the populace attacked the convent of the Dominicans and burned the registers of the Inquisition, still the setbacks were not serious. Ghibelline districts were particularly attacked, and it was said that in such centres it was impossible to feel safe, as in the eyes of the Church Ghibelline was apt to mean heretic.345 It should, on the other hand, be noted that even during the period of the Inquisition’s greatest ascendancy in Italy, there are instances of papal lenity in mitigation of the full rigour of the tribunal’s practice.346 In certain parts of Italy the Inquisition did not thrive as in Lombardy and the Papal States. When Charles of Anjou established himself in the Neapolitan kingdom, one of his first proceedings was to plant the Inquisition there, and he gave it his own personal assistance in prosecuting its labours. On the other hand, it remained somewhat dependent on the crown and did not enjoy the whole-hearted support of the local magistrates. Perhaps more serious was the natural obstacle presented by the mountainous character of the country. In the island of Sicily the Inquisition had at no time much influence.
In another Italian state the Inquisition never succeeded in obtaining a thorough hold—Venice, ever zealous for its independence of outside control. When Gregory IX started his campaign against heresy, the republic held aloof; the Constitutions of Frederick II were not incorporated in its laws. Persecution indeed existed and the ordinary bishop’s court existed as elsewhere in Christendom; but the Council, a secular body, maintained a supervision in cases of heresy. The Inquisition was not permitted to enter, and in consequence Venice became an asylum of refuge for heretics from other parts of Italy. But in 1288 Nicholas V ordered the signoria to respect the laws of Pope and Emperor and facilitate the work of the Inquisitor of Treviso in whose province Venice ought to come.347 According to the recognized principles of the age the attitude of the republic was indefensible. Venice, accordingly, gave way, but was able to effect a compromise, whereby the Inquisition was admitted, but on the other hand the edicts, imperial and ecclesiastical, were still not placed among the statutes of the city and the republic supervised the financial arrangements, defraying the expenses of the inquisitors, but at the same time receiving the profits of confiscations. Thus one of the most prolific sources of inquisitorial abuses was cut off, and at the same time the power of the purse retained supreme control for the state, the imposition of such important restrictions allowed the Inquisition no such prestige in Venice as it enjoyed in Lombardy. We find it at times being deliberately ignored by the signoria, and by the middle of the fifteenth century it had almost entirely lost such influence as it had possessed after the compromise of 1288.
In spite of its obtaining only partial ascendancy in certain states, the Inquisition achieved its purpose in Italy with marked success. Catharism lasted longer there than in Languedoc, being found in Piedmont in the late years of the fourteenth century; but it was harried energetically, and early in the next century it was to all intents and purposes extinct. Waldensianism lasted longer, having a much greater hold over the country. In 1352 we find that the Waldensian Church in Turin is flourishing and its numbers so great that no attempt is made at concealment. Gregory XI made special efforts to suppress the sect in Piedmont, but without complete success. The next century saw another strenuous effort made by Yolande, the regent of Savoy, who with the co-operation of the inquisitor of Dauphiné undertook a campaign for the extermination of the Waldenses, all her officials being by the Duchess’s orders placed at the disposal of the inquisitors. For a time the persecuted in Savoy were under the aegis of Louis XI’s protection; but on his death persecution was carried on assiduously. In 1488 an attempt was made to put down the Waldenses by force of arms, but the 18,000 men to whom the task was entrusted met with a crushing defeat. The respite thus secured did not, however, last long, and in 1510 we find the Inquisition strengthened by the loan of troops by the secular power and using every means in its power against the heretics. In the Alpine valleys the sect was never stamped out by the Inquisition and remained in existence there until the terrible Vaudois massacres of 1655. But as a result of the persistent persecution, emigration on a considerable scale was continually taking place, the majority of those who took flight finding a refuge in Calabria and Apulia, where the arm of the tribunal scarcely ever extended.
The great Schism was disastrous in weakening the respect felt in Italy not only for the papacy, but the Church as a whole, and the Inquisition inevitably suffered in consequence.
The fame of the Inquisition in the Spanish peninsula has been so great that it has almost wholly eclipsed its fame anywhere else in Europe, and its history has been in every way peculiar. It acquired an altogether unique position there; enjoyed an extraordinary prestige and unexampled success. It earned an undying notoriety. It became, as nowhere else in Europe, a national institution, closely identified with the monarchy, but also popular, a possession of which the people were proud. It was a terror to the foreigner; it made the name of Spaniard feared all over the world. It had played a great part in welding the Peninsula together, in driving out alien elements, producing national homogeneity. It played, then, a large part in Spanish history, and obtained a very marked influence on the national mind and character. But the Inquisition which is so famous or infamous in Spain was the creation of Ferdinand and Isabella. It was a quite distinctive institution, much more monarchical than papal, and it was not directly the offspring of the tribunals that had existed in the Peninsula in the Middle Ages.
The most remarkable fact concerning the Spanish Inquisition is that this country in which the Inquisition most abundantly flourished, the country which won for itself easy pre-eminence for its close fidelity to the Church, its zealous and implacable intolerance of any sort of dissent, was originally equally pre-eminent for its tolerance. The ardour of persecution in Spain was not due to something ingrained in the national character; it was to a very large extent the offspring of the methods pursued by the Holy Office; and the deep implanting of the Holy Office was due to deliberate policy on the part of the Spanish monarchy from the days of Ferdinand the Catholic and Isabella.348 In the Middle Ages the civilization of Spain was very largely Saracen. From such sources south of the Pyrenees came that distinctive culture of Languedoc, out of which heresy had so luxuriantly sprung. From a non-Christian people came the philosophy, the mediæval, astronomical, botanical knowledge, the art and fancy and the industrial skill and trading enterprise of the country. Moreover Jew and Christian met and did business together. So long as such intermingling of different races, religions, civilizations continued the soil was not favourable to the success of such an institution as the Holy Office. Heterogeneity is productive of tolerance. The Inquisition’s day could only come with the determination to drive out the other elements and to make the Peninsula European in race, Christian in religion and ideas. The success of that policy had to wait for the union of the two crowns of Aragon and Castile. Prior to that, the Inquisition obtained success in Aragon only, being unknown in Castile and Leon, while in Portugal, though there were inquisitors in the country from 1576 onwards, they appear to have been singularly inactive.
In Aragon349 persecution was originally organized by the state, both Alfonso II and Pedro II promulgating severe legislation against heresy, though a sort of Inquisition, consisting partly of clergy, partly of laity, was established by a statute issued at Tarragona in 1233. The real beginnings of the Inquisition in Aragon are, however, to be traced from the intervention of the redoubtable Raymond of Peñaforte, a year or two after this. He was instrumental in introducing members of his own order to deal with heresy; and in 1238 Gregory IX entrusted the prosecution of heretics to the Mendicant orders in Aragon. In 1242 a very important Council held at Tarragona formulated rules of procedure for the guidance of inquisitors.350 The Aragonese Inquisition did not, however, show great activity until the opening of the fourteenth century. Its activity then produced popular protest, and in 1325 the Cortes, with the royal assent, prohibited inquisitorial methods of torture. It is doubtful if this was intended to apply to ecclesiastical as well as lay courts. If it was, it had no lasting results, as can be seen from Eymeric’s ‘Directorium.’351
This very remarkable inquisitor assumed office in Aragon about 1360. With the most genuine and most exalted conceptions of the dignity and importance of his position, he put forward the utmost claims for the Holy Office; yet from the internal evidence of his treatise itself, it does not seem to have flourished in Aragon in his day. He makes loud complaints of its poverty. But the fact that so little came into its exchequer from confiscations and that so ardent and active an inquisitor should apparently have accomplished so little seems mainly to prove that heresy was not a serious menace in Aragon at this time.
In the next century the history of the Aragonese Inquisition is neither interesting nor important, and the end of that period brings us to the era of Torquemada and the organization of a great Inquisition for the united kingdoms of Spain.
In Eastern Europe352 the Inquisition never succeeded in obtaining much of a foothold. The main stronghold of Catharism was in lands east of the Adriatic, but here the papacy possessed but scant authority. A practically abortive attempt was made to deal with the heretics in 1202; but in the twenties the Mendicants in their untiring zeal, using Hungary as their base and with the armed support of Calomar, Duke of Croatia and Dalmatia, waged successful warfare against the Bosnian Cathari until the retirement of the crusaders in 1239. Their withdrawal meant that no effectual result was achieved, and Catharism remained powerful not only in Bosnia, but Dalmatia, Bulgaria, and Roumania. The bishops of Bosnia found themselves compelled to leave the country. In 1298 an attempt made by Boniface VIII, to establish an Inquisition in the lands south of Hungary from the Danube to Macedonia, came to nothing. But in 1320 an inquisitor named Fabiano, with the assistance of the king of Hungary, made some progress against the heretics, and a further effort was made in 1336 by Dominicans with the co-operation of the Hungarian king. Though in 1378 Urban V congratulated Louis of Hungary and the friars on having restored two thousand heretics to the fold, four years later that monarch himself complains that practically all his subjects are Cathari, good Catholics being very sparse in numbers.
In 1407 Sigismund made an attempt to establish himself in Bosnia, his cause obtaining papal recognition as a crusade against Turks and Manichæans; but his attempt ended in failure. In 1432 an Observative Franciscan, Giacomo della Marca, already well known as a stalwart persecutor of heretics in Italy, embarked upon a missionary enterprise in Slavonia, and is said by his eloquence to have made numerous converts; but his success was short-lived, as he was recalled by Sigismund to help in the religious troubles of Bohemia. After the days of Sigismund there was little chance of success for missionary or inquisitor beyond the Adriatic. The flow of the Ottoman advance swept over the Balkans, and the Cathari were converted not to Catholicism but to the faith of Islam.
The Inquisition did not make its appearance in Bohemia until late, the first inquisitors being appointed in 1318, when they were also appointed for Poland, Cracow and Breslau. There is hardly any record of what they did. In 1335 Benedict XII made fresh efforts, and between 1350 and 1380 there was considerable activity against heretics, but it was the activity of the ordinary episcopal courts, not of a papal inquisition. There was a large diffusion of Waldensianism in the country; apparently early in the century there had been a certain number of Luciferans. With the Church in Bohemia in a low state of efficiency and the rise of the anti-sacerdotal movement which led to Husitism, the task of repression was a difficult one, and there was no Inquisition. One of the causes of the indignation of the Czechs at the treatment of Hus at Constance was the fact that Bohemia had had virtually no experience of the Inquisition and was ignorant of its methods and procedure.
After the silencing of the two great heresiarchs, the Council commissioned the Bishop of Litomysl with inquisitorial powers for the extirpation of heresy in Bohemia; but as the Czechs were ravaging the Bishop’s territories at the time he dared not show face. The next expedient of the Council was the arrangement that Husite heretics should appear before special inquisitors in the Roman Curia. As it was in the highest degree unlikely that any Husites, particularly after the fate of Hus and Jerome, would quit their own country to answer charges of heresy, this was a futile proceeding, as was the next—a formal citation to 450 nobles, who had signed a protest against the burning of Hus, to appear before the Council on the charge of heresy. It was evident that no Inquisition could exist in Bohemia as long as the country remained rebellious, predominantly schismatic. The success of the Inquisition invariably required the support of popular opinion, magisterial acquiescence, or armed force. Neither of the first two being forthcoming, the last expedient had to be tried. A crusade was preached against the heretic people, to which only one upshot was anticipated. But the anti-Husite crusade ignominiously failed, and the Czech people kept the Inquisition from entering their borders.
In Scandinavian lands the Inquisition never penetrated, and it only once, for a very brief period, made its appearance in the British Isles. This was in connection with the suppression of the Templars. At first when the horrible accusations which led to the undoing of the great military order were bruited about, Edward II refused to credit them, the record of the order in England giving no colour to the charges. When, however, Clement V issued his bull, Pastoralis praeeminentiae, in which he stated that the heads of the order had made confession of the crimes imputed to the iniquitous knights, and called upon the potentates of Europe to take action for their suppression, the English king ordered the apprehension of the Templars in England and the sequestration of their property. No further action was taken. But in September 1309 two papal commissioners, who had been appointed more than a year previously, made their appearance. Instructions were issued that all Templars not yet seized should be brought to London, York, or Lincoln, where the commissioners with the co-operation of the bishops of the respective dioceses were to hold inquiries. Similar orders were also dispatched to Scotland and Ireland, where the inquisitors appointed delegates. The proceedings in London began on October 20, 1309. The Templars, on examination, one and all protested the innocence of the order; outside witnesses, as a whole, gave the same testimony. The object of the inquisitors being conviction, this was most unsatisfactory. Progress was much better on the Continent, where torture was employed; torture they must use also in England, therefore. They obtained from the King an order to the custodians of the prisons to allow the inquisitors to do with the bodies of the Templars what they pleased, in accordance with ecclesiastical law.
Still only meagre results were obtained and Clement became indignant. He wrote to Edward saying that he had heard that he had refused the use of torture as being contrary to the laws of his kingdom. No law could be permitted to over-ride the canon law, and in interfering with the work of the Inquisition the King had been guilty of a very serious offence. He was offered remission of sins if he would withdraw his prohibition of torture. Thus urged, Edward again sanctioned the use of ‘ecclesiastical law,’ but this time mentioned torture expressly, explaining that he gave his sanction in deference to the wishes of the Pope. Even thus the inquisitors could not make headway. They were on alien soil in England; the country took ill to the special tribunal and its methods. All that they achieved was that the knights eventually confessed themselves so ‘defamed’ for heresy as to make it impossible for them to make the ‘canonical purgation’ and therefore undertook to perform any penances enjoined upon them. Such were the total results attained by the Inquisition in England.
Persecution of heretics there had been before, under the Assize of Clarendon; persecution in plenty there was after, under De Haeretico Comburendo and in the days of the Tudors; but the persecuting authority was always the State—no such international, papally-controlled tribunal as the Holy Office. Mary Tudor might have achieved a large measure of success in her Romanist policy had she been able to make more use of those international agencies, of which Jesuit propaganda and the Holy Office were the two chief, which provided the sinews of the Counter-Reformation movement. As it was, the British Isles remained free from inquisitorial influence; their judicial customs and principles of justice being uncontaminated by those methods of procedure by inquisitio, by the use of torture, which the example of the Holy Office introduced into so many civil courts on the Continent.