Chapter IV: Censorship (2)

While this case was dragging along, irrepressible zeal in pursuit of prohibited books threatened a foreign complication. Leonhardt Schuck, the Dutch consul at Alicante, died, leaving the French vice-consul as his executor. The house and effects were duly sealed with the royal seal during the execution of certain legal formalities, but the commissioner of the Inquisition called on the governor to remove the seal and deliver the keys to him, so that he might inventory the books, papers and prints, for he was informed that there were prohibited articles of all three kinds. The governor refused until he could consult the king, when the commissioner at night broke the seal, made his way in, compiled an inventory and replaced the seal as best he could. The Dutch ambassador complained to Carlos IV, and the minister Urquijo, who was unfriendly to the Inquisition, took occasion to issue a _carta orden_ of October 11, 1799, severely rebuking it for this and other similar occurrences, which had contributed greatly to increase its evil reputation abroad.[1339]

This supervision over the libraries of the dead continued under the Restoration. In 1815 orders were sent to all commissioners to see that no books belonging to estates were sold at auction until exact lists were submitted to the tribunal and its permission was obtained and, in 1817, when Fray Raymundo García, prior of the convent of Montesa at Onda, died, the Valencia tribunal had his library examined with the result of finding quite a number of prohibited books, mostly of a Jansenist character.[1340] Despite the ceaseless vigilance of the Inquisition, the seekers after forbidden literature took the risk of gratifying their longings.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _PREVENTION OF SMUGGLING_]

This forbidden literature was necessarily foreign. Under the preliminary restrictions on printing, which weighed with such deadly pressure on authorship, and under such vigilance as that which prompted the Suprema, in 1602, to order the tribunals to instruct their commissioners to seize all new books, or those of new authors or new editions, and report about them without delivering them to any one,[1341] it was impossible that native works of dangerous tendency could reach the public, and censorship was confined to theological subtilties or to trivialities. The only real danger to be guarded against came from abroad, and the Inquisition's most effective service to obscurantism was rendered in the quarantine which it established to preserve the nation from the infection of new ideas. To this were directed the unremitting energies of the state, which found in the Holy Office its most useful instrument. We have seen above how early it took the alarm in 1521. In 1532 the Royal Council adopted the heroic measure of prohibiting the importation and sale of all recently printed books[1342]--a measure which, if enforced, would have cut off Spain from all foreign literature, without preventing the introduction of heretical books concealed in packages of other merchandise. If not speedily repealed, it at least soon became obsolete, and the function of guarding the land from the importation of heretical matter naturally fell into the hands of the Inquisition, which alone possessed the authority and the ability to decide between what was innocent and what was obnoxious. This function consisted of two duties--that of separating the wheat from the tares in books regularly imported through the custom-houses, and in the suppression of smuggling.

Precisely at what time the Inquisition undertook these duties it would be impossible to say, but its activity and organization of the work would seem to date from the Lutheran scare of 1557 and 1558. In a letter of May 12, 1558, from the Suprema to Charles V, it declares that all the inquisitors had been instructed to use the greatest vigilance at the sea-ports and along the French frontier, but such was the audacity of the heretics that this did not suffice, as was proved by the number of books daily seized in spite of the most rigorous punishment.[1343] So, in its report of September 9th to the pope, it stated that to prevent the importation of heretic books, inquisitors with their officials had been established along the coasts and in the places of greatest trade, which was a falsehood for the purpose of obtaining papal sanction for despoiling the Church, since no new tribunals were established, though the existing ones were urged to special vigilance. How this was exercised is detailed in a letter of October 25th from the Seville inquisitors, in response to an exhortation to diligence. They declare that all possible care was taken; instructions had been given for the visiting of all ships on arrival; no merchandise of any kind could be discharged or opened without the presence of a commissioner, who saw that there were no books in the packages or, if there were, they were sent to the tribunal. All packages for Seville were sealed and not opened save in the presence of their inspector, to see whether there were books enclosed. All books arriving were delivered to the tribunal and examined, when those found to be prohibited or suspicious were detained; it had not come to their knowledge that any one had received and distributed books without this previous examination.[1344]

This shows that already the system had been established, which continued with little modification to the end. All packages of books were carefully inspected, those prohibited or subject to expurgation, and the new and unknown ones regarded as suspicious were removed and sent to the tribunal to await its decision, which usually inferred consultation with the Suprema and indefinite delay. Every package of merchandise, moreover--box, bale or barrel--was opened in presence of the commissioner in search of concealed books. Thus the whole importing commerce of Spain passed through the hands of the Inquisition, whose officials employed in the business were unpaid, except by the fees which they could exact from merchants, leading to interminable squabbles, insufferable delays and grievous impediments to the commercial activity of the nation.

[Sidenote: _SUPERVISION OF BOOK-TRADE_]

The trade in books suffered especially. It evidently was regarded as a thing to be restricted as far as possible, and was subject to any caprice of the authorities. In the sixteenth century orders were sometimes sent to special ports to forward all packages of books unopened and finally this was adopted as a universal rule, the whole foreign book-trade thus passing through the hands of the Suprema. A carta acordada of June 17, 1666, complains of the inobservance of these instructions, which must be obeyed by the commissioners at all the ports; the carriers must be bound under a penalty to return, within a fixed time, the receipt of the secretary of the Suprema, and a separate letter of advice must inform the Suprema who he is and at what tavern in Madrid he is accustomed to lodge.[1345] No trade could be profitably carried on which was subject to such vexatious and costly interference, while the Suprema was constantly scolding the tribunals for their negligence.

How their ignorant scrupulousness affected trade may be guessed by an incident occurring at Barcelona in 1666. A bookseller of that city imported a number of copies of a book just printed in Lyons--a _Pharmacop[oe]ia Medico-Chemica_, by Johannes Schoderius, M.D., Physician in ordinary to the Republic of Frankfurt a/M. In the Index of 1640, the inquisitors found, among authors of the first class, the name of Joan. Schroderus, qualified as "Philosophus et Theologus German. Luther. August. Confess.," all of whose works were condemned. They seized the Pharmacop[oe]ias and reported to the Suprema, which ordered a copy forwarded. It was duly submitted to calificadores and five months afterwards the tribunal was notified that the books might be delivered to the owner.[1346]

The internal traffic in books was trammelled by the closest supervision. In 1645 the Valencia tribunal was instructed to issue no licences to take books to Castile without a formal order from the Suprema.[1347] While their departure was thus closely scrutinized, a second inspection was required on their arrival, as appears from a petition, in 1665, of Juan Antonio Bonet, bookseller of Madrid, representing that, in 1663, he had forwarded to Miguel Paysso, a bookseller of Barcelona, certain books, among which the Barcelona tribunal found and seized a copy of the works of Quevedo, in two volumes, which he prays to be released, as it was printed in Madrid, where it enjoyed free circulation.[1348]

It was the same with exports. In 1573 the books of some frailes going to the Canaries require a special order from the Suprema to commissioners in Seville, Granada, Córdova and Badajoz to pass them if there were none prohibited among them.[1349] The instructions of 1707 provide that, when books are to be exported, lists of them are to be submitted to the revisers that they may retain any that are prohibited or are unknown to them and thus require examination.[1350] A transaction in 1788 shows that a special permit was required for each shipment of books to the colonies, and a royal order of August 8, 1807, prescribed that the examination should be made conjointly by the commissioners of the Inquisition, the royal revisor and a delegate of the _juez de imprentas_.[1351] Even books in transit were subject to the watchful eye of the Inquisition, as we learn when, in 1560, some that had belonged to Cardinal Pole were shipped through Spain to Venice and were diligently investigated.[1352] Books in fact were regarded with almost an insane fear, as the most dangerous of all articles of commerce, and the more thoroughly that Spain could be prevented from knowing what men were thinking and doing in foreign lands, the safer it was for society.

The regulations adopted for importations were well adapted to protect the Spanish intellect from such dangers. The requirement of sending all packages to the Suprema unopened seems to have been abandoned, but other obstacles were sufficiently onerous. All books, with which the commissioner of the Inquisition was not acquainted, had to be submitted to calificadores or sent to the Suprema for decision. As foreign books, especially the new ones, came under this category, the consequent delays and the risk of prohibition exposed the importing bookseller to hardships rendering trade almost impracticable. Thus, in 1772, Pierre Crozier, a bookseller of Valencia, imported a copy of the _Essais de Morale_ of Pierre Nicole. It had to be referred to the Suprema, which, by letter of August 29th, ordered it to be examined and reported upon. After the lapse of four years we find Crozier still begging the tribunal to decide whether it will be permitted, as well as copies of the _Discours de Fleuri_ and the _Histoire de la Bible_ of Royaumont. If prohibited, he asks permission to sell them to some one who holds a licence or to return them to France.[1353] How much longer he had to wait we can only conjecture. These impediments to importation were aggravated by a regulation of the Royal Council, in 1784, requiring a licence before a new foreign book could be exposed for sale and, out of the small number on which the dealer could venture to try the market, he had, when applying for a licence, to give two copies and to pay the examining censor a real per sheet for reading it, with the prospect that if the licence was obtained, the Inquisition might subsequently prohibit it.[1354]

[Sidenote: _SUPERVISION OF IMPORTS_]

The books seized were detained by the tribunals, and their fate is revealed in a letter from that of Valencia, July 28, 1798, in answer to orders from the Suprema to return to Don Josef Joaquin de Soria a copy of the _Lettres Provinciales_ in four languages, and to send to Madrid, under seal, the books brought from Holland (some ten years before) by Don Pedro Antonio Casas. The tribunal explained at much length its inability to comply. The practice of entering the name of the owner in books seized is recent. The accumulation of prohibited books is large, and the room in which most of them are stored is so hot and so infested with book-worms that in a fortnight a book is pierced through and through. If those of Casas were placed there or left in their boxes there would not be a leaf remaining. Besides, a bookseller was formerly employed to come monthly and dust them, and he carried away all that he wanted, as appeared in his prosecution on that charge in 1789. This explains why only a portion of Casas's books can be found; as to Soria's _Lettres Provinciales_, two copies of that edition have been found, but each has a different owner's name.[1355] Verily, the Inquisition was the grave-yard of books.

The outbreak of the French Revolution brought fresh activity and redoubled watchfulness for the exclusion of dangerous literature. Politics and religion were inextricably intermingled, and the revolutionary propaganda was as much dreaded as the religious had been in the sixteenth century. In 1792, the Suprema ordered all the tribunals to be especially zealous in preventing the introduction of the books, which the French were industriously disseminating for the purpose of exciting rebellion and imperilling religion and the monarchy. With this it circulated a royal order commanding special examination of books and papers from foreign parts. Wherever there was a custom-house, there were two revisors appointed, one royal and the other inquisitorial, who were to examine together all books and papers arriving. These were to be divided into three parts; those allowed currency and unknown works on history and science, which could be delivered to the owners; those included in the Index, to be retained by the inquisitorial revisor, and those unknown and suspected, to be kept by the royal revisor, until the king's pleasure could be ascertained. Thus the forces of the State and the Inquisition were marshalled together in defence of the faith and of the crown; unfortunately they did not always work harmoniously for, in 1805 these instructions were reissued with urgent appeals for cordial coöperation.[1356] It would be useless to follow in detail the numerous exhortations to vigilance in the succeeding years. In spite of precautions, foreign ideas drifted through the custom-houses and embodied themselves in the Constitution of 1812 and, when the reaction came under the Restoration, the supervision of importations was confided exclusively to the Inquisition. In 1816 a question arose as to the functions of the _subdelegado de Imprentas_ and the _revisor Real_, when Fernando VII decided that it pertained alone to the tribunals to decide what books should pass through the custom-houses, and that their permission was necessary.[1357]

* * * * *

If these efforts to control the legitimate importation of books exercised an unfortunate influence on the intellectual development of Spain, its commercial interests suffered likewise from the precautions adopted to prevent the smuggling of the dreaded literature. These were known as the _Visitas de Navios_, which rendered the ports of Spain an object of dislike to all merchantmen, whether of native or foreign origin. Their systematization is attributable to the Protestant scare of 1558, when no means were deemed too radical which should serve to defeat the propagandist energy ascribed to the Spanish refugees and their heretical allies.

[Sidenote: _VISITAS DE NAVIOS_]

When a vessel cast anchor, before it could break cargo, it was visited by the representatives of various jurisdictions--health, war and customs. Subsequently health and war were combined, under the name of _almirantazgo_ and there was added a visit from the commissioner of the Inquisition, with his notary and alguazil. As these officials were unsalaried, they claimed to be paid for their time and for the expense of a carriage and boat, by fees exacted of the vessel. Then, after inspecting the crew and passengers and examining any books belonging to them, a guard was stationed to prevent the surreptitious landing of books. When the cargo was discharged, the commissioner opened and inspected every package and, if it was a bale of books, of course each one had to be compared with the Index. For all this additional fees were charged, constituting a tax, not alone on the book-trade but on commerce in general, deeply resented by all the commercial interests, nor was the opposition lessened by the arbitrary methods habitual with all the officials of the Inquisition. Complaints of abuses became loud and numerous from all the sea-ports while, on the other hand, the frequent reports of heretical machinations led to constant exhortations from the Suprema for increased vigilance.

Some feeble attempts were made to check abuses. In 1602 there was a prohibition that visiting officials should require to have meals served, should place guards, or insist on having salutes fired; in 1606 it was forbidden for commissioners to take with them notaries or familiars who were merchants, and who thus learned the nature of the cargo and had opportunities to buy or to sell; but no attention was paid to these reforms.[1358] Then, in 1607, a royal cédula provided that commissioners should levy no fees for visiting ships, and this was repeated in 1610, but these commands were disobeyed on the plea that they passed through the Council of Castile and not through the Suprema, wherefore, as the latter said, the commissioners were bound to obey them but not to execute them.[1359]

The royal attention was finally called to the injurious effect of the system on Spanish commerce and, in January, 1632, a cédula was sent to the corregidores of the sea-ports, in which the king stated that he had been informed that the continual vexations inflicted on those who came to trade at Spanish ports, arising from the abuses practised by the numerous officials visiting their ships at their arrival and departure, had not only been the cause of the decline of commerce but of its total destruction, for every vessel was visited by so many jurisdictions that the extortions and impositions were great and had much increased of late. He was therefore obliged to enquire what proper methods could be adopted to encourage trade on the part of both natives and foreigners, without abolishing the necessary visits and precautions. There followed a list of searching questions as to the number of visits, officials, fees, methods, etc., with a request for suggestions. Although directed nominally to the abuses of all the jurisdictions, the Inquisition evidently was especially aimed at, for copies of the cédula were sent by the Suprema to all the tribunals of the crown of Castile.[1360]

A junta was assembled to frame a reform on the basis of the information thus obtained. It sat until the end of 1633 but, if it reached any conclusions, they left no trace on legislation or practice. The only paper laid before it that I have met is a complaint from Don Pedro de Barreda, customs inspector of Guipuzcoa, of the excesses committed by officials of the Inquisition, under pretext of visiting the vessels coming to the ports of his district.[1361] The probability is that, as so frequently the case in Spanish administration, the junta did nothing but submit to the king long consultas representing the conflicting views of the individual members, and that the king by that time had lost his interest in the matter and cast them aside without reading.

[Sidenote: _VISITAS DE NAVIOS_]

As was inevitable, the aggressiveness of the officials led to frequent quarrels. In 1616 there was one in Sardinia, in which the inquisitor excommunicated the Governor of Sasser, when the viceroy retaliated with a decree banishing the inquisitor. It was published with trumpet and cymbals and so frightened the inquisitorial people that the consultors did not dare to assemble and the familiars took to the mountains. The affair was referred to the Council of Aragon and the Suprema, which effected a truce by annulling the acts on both sides.[1362] That the junta of 1633 brought no harmony is seen in a similar outbreak arising from the same cause in 1634, between the viceroy of Majorca and the tribunal, which had to be carried up to the king.[1363] In 1635, the royal secretary addressed the Suprema, stating that a squadron was being organized for service on the coast of Guipuzcoa and that, to avoid the extortions and vexations of the commissioner at San Sebastian, the king desired that the head chaplain of the squadron should be appointed as commissioner, so that he could perform the duty of visiting the ships and prizes when they entered port. To this the Suprema returned an emphatic protest; such visits were essential and not to be omitted; the cause of complaint was not the extortions of the commissioners but their zealous discharge of their duties. As there is no endorsement on this consulta, the king apparently did not press the matter.[1364]

Perhaps the bitterest struggle was that carried on by Bilbao for more than a hundred years. As one of the busiest ports of Spain, it naturally recalcitrated against the burdens laid upon its trade. The system had scarce been fairly organized when, in 1560, complaints already came to the Suprema of extortionate and illegal fees. Bartolomé de Robles, a bookseller of Alcalá, represented that he had imported through Bilbao forty bales of books, which were forwarded in one lot by ten muleteers; they had all been duly examined and sealed, the commissioner charging one real for each seal and then, in place of giving one certificate for the lot, he made out forty certificates at four reales apiece. The Suprema forwarded this to the tribunal of Calahorra (Logroño), with a table of fees, commanding that all exorbitant charges should be returned to it for distribution to the parties aggrieved.[1365] It was not alone the booksellers, but merchants in general, who suffered from the opening of their packages and the fees charged on each, and the shipmasters exposed to the extortions attendant upon the visits. The mercantile community of Bilbao was well organized, having a _Casa de Contratacion_ to regulate commerce, with a _Fiel_ or executive officer, a Prior and Consuls. They made their grievances heard and a compromise was reached with the tribunal, in 1561, which was not observed; it was the same with another agreement made in 1567 and yet another in 1576, under which all fees were abolished. To enforce this the Contratacion brought suit, resulting in an agreement in 1577, confirmed by the Suprema, by which the commissioner received fifty ducats a year in lieu of all fees, except two reales on each package of books, the examination of which was admitted to be laborious.[1366] Trouble soon recommenced; in spite of repeated exhortation to moderation by the Suprema, fees were levied on every package and cask of merchandise. The royal cédula of 1607 abolishing fees was published February 18th, but received no attention and, in 1609, Bilbao sent a strong remonstrance to the king, to which the Logroño tribunal replied, asserting it to be false; the labor was great; it always had been and must be paid by fees, which were always the subject of contention, especially at Bilbao where there were a prior and consuls to defend the merchants.[1367] Then came the royal cédula of 1610, again abolishing fees, which received no more attention than the previous one.

In February, 1612, the Suprema wrote to Logroño that great complaints continued to come to the king, especially from Bilbao, and it suggested that an increase in the fifty ducats might be obtained in lieu of fees. Acting on this, a formal agreement was signed in July and confirmed by the Suprema, raising the annual payment to two thousand reales, the two reales on book packages being retained. It is not likely that this was observed by the commissioner for, in 1616, at the request of the merchants and shipmasters, a return was made to the fee system and a definite scale was agreed upon. This scale, however, did not long content the commissioner for, in 1631, the complaints reaching the Suprema led it to make an investigation, in which its fiscal admitted that the excessive fees and vexations were leading shipmasters to abandon those ports, especially Bilbao; the fees exacted were fifty per cent. greater than the agreed scale; vessels bringing fish were compelled in addition to give so many fish out of each barrel, and the delays were damaging. At the same time the existing commissioner, Pedro de Villareal, was highly commended. He had merely accepted conditions as he found them established by his predecessors; his term of service extended from 1625 to 1662 and was subsequently looked back upon as a halcyon time of peace.[1368]

[Sidenote: _VISITAS DE NAVIOS_]

This came to an end, in 1663, with the appointment of a new commissioner, the Licentiate Domingo de Leguina, whose excessive exactions and arbitrary methods excited the bitterest dissatisfaction. One thing which was the subject of especial complaint was that, in place of examining merchandise in the warehouses of the consignees, he insisted on opening the packages on the quay, cutting the cords and scattering the contents, which were thus subjected to theft and to the vicissitudes of the weather; he even bored holes in casks of tar and explored the interior with a stick in the search for hidden books. Commerce on a large scale could scarce be conducted under such conditions, the prosperity of the port was seriously threatened, passions on both sides were enkindled and a controversy of the fiercest kind raged for years. The Señorio of Biscay took sides with the merchants and represented forcibly to the queen-regent the absurdity of ruining commerce and risking complications with foreign nations on the pretext of preventing the smuggling of prohibited books, considering the risks attendant on the attempt and the lack of purchasers for them if successful, in a community so ardent for the faith.[1369]

Both sides resorted to extreme measures. The Contratacion in 1667 ordered the merchants not to pay fees; the tribunal, with the approval of the Suprema, ordered Leguina to collect them; he seized goods and sold them by auction; he prosecuted some of the merchants and compromised with them for money; the English and Dutch ambassadors intervened with protests against the disregard of treaty stipulations; the queen-regent annulled the decree of the Contratacion forbidding the payment of fees, and against this the Señorio of Biscay, in a solemn assembly, November 7, 1668, protested, as a violation of the fueros, and adopted a decree prohibiting their payment; if attempts should be made to collect them it would resist and, if other remedies failed, a Junta General would be assembled to determine on further measures. Meanwhile, any secular official assisting Leguina was declared to be disabled for insaculation in the choice by lot for public office. This decree was published in Bilbao to sound of drum and fife, with general popular rejoicing, and Leguina could find no official to assist him in his work, even his notary being disqualified for an office to which he aspired. Then the Council of Castile intervened May 15, 1669, with an order to Leguina to levy no fees for visiting ships, an action probably induced by a forcible protest from the Earl of Sandwich, the English ambassador, in which the exactions of the commissioner were represented as infractions of the treaties of 1665 and 1667.[1370]

The serious character of the questions thus raised made an impression on the court and led to a royal decree of July 19, 1669, informing the Suprema that the vexations and excessive dues levied by Leguina on the commerce of Bilbao had aroused such hatred that means must be taken to avoid greater evils, by removing the officials and replacing them with others who would perform their duties without arousing complaints. An immediate answer was required to this, but the Suprema waited until December 23d and then replied in a long consulta, insisting that Leguina had been right from the beginning; that all laws or regulations infringing the immunities of the Inquisition were invalid, and the mere attempt subjected its authors to punishment. As the Suprema was immovable, an attack was made directly on Leguina by a royal letter and provision of the Royal Council, January 22, 1670, ordering him to collect no fees for visiting ships and to make his visits as his predecessors had done. When this was served upon him he made an unseemly reply and stopped the commerce of the port until there were eighteen ships waiting to discharge their cargoes. To overcome this, a solemn mandate in the name of the king and queen-regent was addressed to him, February 14th, reciting his misdeeds and ordering him to quit the kingdom or to present himself at court under penalty of twenty thousand maravedís. When this was served upon him by a notary, on February 23d, he reverently placed it on his head and said he respected it as the act of his king, but the next day he served upon the notary his _declinatoria_ (denial of jurisdiction), stating that he was simply the servant of the Suprema and of the Logroño tribunal, in which capacity he had complied with the obligations of his office, and the Suprema had never brought a charge against him, wherefore he supplicated the king to inform himself from the Suprema as to the matters contained in these royal provisions, which had been obtained surreptitiously, and to recognize the justice of his reply and of his proceedings.[1371] The authority of the Suprema evidently was superior to that of the king.

[Sidenote: _VISITAS DE NAVIOS_]

Thus baffled, the queen-regent turned again to the Suprema, with a decree of April 1, 1670, in which she rehearsed the agreements of 1561, 1567 and 1576 as providing that no fees were to be levied; the visits must be made in the former fashion, so as to give no occasion of complaints of the violation of treaties, and Leguina must be removed. To this the Suprema replied, April 24th, insisting on the necessity of the visits; the resistance of Bilbao had proved contagious; the other ports were refusing to pay fees, and this would extend to the whole monarchy; the labor had to be paid for and the Inquisition had no funds for salaries. It further explained that, in view of the hostility felt for Leguina, the Logroño tribunal had replaced him, on January 3d, by Joan de Zabala, who had found himself unable to act, everybody being terrorized and refusing to assist him, so Leguina had resumed his duties. Then, on February 14th the Council of State had intervened and allowed the eighteen waiting ships to discharge their cargoes without examination, which was an invasion of the jurisdiction of the Inquisition and consequently null. At the end of February Leguina had been replaced by Don Iñigo Zubiaur who had been well received by the merchants--a fallacious welcome for soon afterwards it was learned that Zubiaur, though he reduced the fees, could get no assistance; his life was threatened and he asked to be relieved on June 20th.[1372]

It would be a weariness to follow in further detail these obscure quarrels which were carried on with equal tenacity by both sides. A new commissioner, Pedro de Irazagarria Butron, was succeeded by Miguel de Jarabeytía, who were as little successful as their predecessors. At length, on May 26, 1680, the king sent to the Suprema a protest from the Dutch ambassador as to the detention of vessels and damage to goods for the purpose of extorting illegal fees. This was followed, June 26th, by another from the ambassador of France, claiming that French vessels should be exempted, and that only packages of books should be examined. Then, on September 4th the king transmitted one from the English ambassador, and accompanied it by a sharp message to the effect that at the moment it was especially desirable to avoid giving just cause of offence to England, and that a prompt remedy must be applied. It was not until October 22d that the Suprema replied, insisting upon the enforcement of the visits; more books entered the port of Bilbao than all the other ports of the kingdom combined, and since these troubles began the visits had been so impeded that immense numbers of books of evil doctrine were filling all the public and private libraries.[1373] The Suprema was willing to embroil Spain with half of Europe rather than to spend a few hundred ducats in salaries, and equally reckless was its assertion as to the commerce in books at Bilbao. When, in 1648, it had called for reports on the _visitas de navios_ from all the northern ports, Commissioner Villareal stated that no books had come to Bilbao for eight years. At none of the other ports was there any allusion made to books, except at San Sebastian, where it was added that they rarely came.[1374] When we recall the forty bales imported in one lot through Bilbao for Robles of Alcalá, in 1561, we can estimate the success of the Inquisition, during the interval, in securing the intellectual isolation of Spain and the flimsiness of the pretext on which was based this prolonged struggle.

Still the struggle went on, stimulated by fresh protests from the English and French ambassadors and met by the Suprema with vociferous assertions of the masses of heretical literature introduced into Spain. At length, on June 12, 1681, the corregidor of Bilbao, Don Juan González de Leon, a member of the Royal Council and judge in the Chancellery of Valladolid, in conjunction with the General Deputies of the Señorio, issued a proclamation imposing a fine of fifty ducats on all shipmasters, merchants and others who should pay the fees, thus uniting the royal and provincial authorities in resistance to the Inquisition. The Suprema met this, July 17th, by ordering Jarabeytía to collect the fees, in which if necessary he was to employ excommunication and collect evidence to prosecute those who impeded the Inquisition. This was a declaration of war, but it was accompanied with secret instructions that he was not to seize goods but to keep a record for future use, and that he was to lose no opportunity of reaching a compromise with the Contratacion, which could take the shape, as formerly suggested, of a lump sum in payment on every ship according to its tonnage.[1375] Here the documents at my disposal come to an end, but there can be little doubt that, on some such basis, a compromise was reached, as the Contratacion had shown a willingness to pay a handsome sum in gross, in the confidence apparently, that when the stimulus of fees for each package was removed, the examinations would be nominal and the commissioners would render their office a sinecure.

[Sidenote: _VISITAS DE NAVIOS_]

Barcelona was more fortunate than Bilbao. The opposition of the viceroy and the intervention of the Banco Regio prevailed against the efforts of the tribunal. In 1819 it reported that there was no trace of commissioners ever having visited ships, except when there were Jews on board, and that a letter of 1677 showed that visits were not made because shipmasters would not pay the fees.[1376] Elsewhere, abuses were rife. At Cádiz, among seafaring men, the Santo Oficio was generally known as the Santo Ladronicio, although there and in Málaga a judicious system of bribery was established, which removed most of the impediments of commerce, together with the obstacles to the importation of prohibited books.[1377] I have met with complaints about Valencia, Alicante and other ports and, in view of the prevalence of official venality, it may be assumed that at least many commissioners used their virtually irresponsible power for profit either by omitting supervision or rendering it unduly onerous.

In 1705 an elaborate digest of all previous instructions was sent to the tribunals with orders to impress upon their commissioners the necessity of constant vigilance to prevent the introduction of prohibited books; not only were bales, hogsheads, casks, packages and especially packs of playing cards to be examined, but the chests and beds of the sailors, yet the utmost tact and dexterity were to be employed, so as to avoid exciting the repugnance felt for these visits. If any controversy arose, the commissioners were not to proceed judicially but the matter was to be referred directly to the Suprema.[1378] In 1742 and 1764, there were royal orders issued prescribing rules and fees, which have interest only as showing the control acquired by the crown over the Inquisition.

In 1801, the Suprema called upon the tribunals for information as to details and fees, the answer to which from Valencia indicates the purely financial view of the matter entertained by the officials. Since the royal orders of 1742 and 1764, it said, and for many years previous, no visits had been made, because the fee for large vessels was eight reales and four for small ones, while it was necessary to hire a carriage from the city to the Grao and a boat to the ship, so the cost was greater than the gain. In Denia the visits had been performed anciently, but for many years they had been abandoned.[1379]

In fact, it had for the most part become simply an impost levied for the benefit of the Inquisition on ships from foreign parts. The suppression of the Inquisition by the Córtes of Cádiz, in 1813, was followed by a decree stating that at almost all the sea-ports of Spain there was collected for the Inquisition a fee known as _derecho de Inquisicion_ on all foreign vessels or those from foreign parts, and that in some places there was further levied on all packages of books and merchandise another fee for registration--all of which the Córtes now suppressed.[1380]

With the revival of the Inquisition under the Restoration, the _visitas de navios_ were naturally resumed, whenever the opposition of shipmasters and foreign consuls permitted. Desiring to reorganize the system, the Suprema, June 17, 1816, called for information, the responses to which show that, at the ports of the northern coasts, for the most part, it was maintained as far as practicable, while on the Mediterranean shore, except in Majorca and Velez Málaga, it was in a thoroughly demoralized condition. No visits were made to the ships. Where they could, commissioners collected fees from vessels arriving from foreign ports, but consuls raised objections and, when subsequently the Suprema ordered the commissioner of Cádiz to enforce payment, he could not persuade the consuls to assent, as they simply referred him to their ambassadors. The matter slumbered until, in January, 1819, the Minister of Marine addressed to the inquisitor-general a complaint from the Hydrographic Office that it had been obliged to pay to a commissioner eight reales for examining two cases containing articles for it. This opened the way, and the Suprema laid before the king a long consulta, urging a reorganization of the system and presenting an elaborate series of regulations for his consideration, as the matter was of immense importance to religion and the state. The scheme resuscitated all the old details in the most rigorous form; indeed, as regards books, it provided that the packages should be sealed with sealing-wax, the duties were to be paid and the packages forwarded to the Suprema by some confidential person.[1381] No more effective plan could have been devised for preserving Spain from the contagion of foreign ideas and, even without this, the other provisions gave to the Inquisition the power of embarrassing largely the whole foreign commerce of the land. The scheme is of interest as revealing the aims of the Inquisition on the brink of its extinction. How it was regarded by the court we have no means of knowing for, before it could be acted upon, the Revolution of 1820 put an end to the active existence of the Holy Office.

[Sidenote: _LICENCES_]

The restrictions which censorship imposed on learning and culture were slightly relieved by the licences which were granted to possess or to read prohibited books. In the struggle with heresy, its confutation required that some persons should be allowed to read the works in which it was taught, and it became customary to grant the privilege to those whose firmness in the faith could be trusted. The bull in _C[oe]na Domini_ of Paul III, in 1536, excommunicates all who read Lutheran books without papal licence, showing that already licences were issued and that the power was reserved to the pope. This power was valuable, and the officials of the curia, to whom it was confided, were subject to temptations which, in that age of venality, were not likely to be resisted. Inquisitors, moreover, assumed that this was included in their delegated apostolical faculties and undertook to issue licences, leading to a multiplication of privileged persons which nullified to some extent the prohibitory edicts. To remedy this, in 1547, the Suprema revoked all such licences and forbade their future issue by the tribunals, a provision which had to be repeated in 1549 and 1551.[1382] This still left the papal licences in the hands of those possessing them, but these were similarly annulled, in 1550, by Julius III, in a brief, from which we learn that papal legates also issued them.[1383]

They speedily multiplied again, and the Suprema took advantage of the Lutheran excitement of 1558 to procure their withdrawal. In its report of September 9th of that year to Paul IV, it represented that many prelates and frailes kept prohibited books, in spite of edicts and censures, refusing to surrender them on the plea that they held papal licences; in view of the danger thence arising to the faith, the pope was asked for a brief revoking all such licences, ordering their surrender under heavy penalties and authorizing rigorous prosecution of transgressors.[1384] Paul did more than merely respond to this petition. By a brief of December 21st, he revoked all papal licences and then, by another of January 4, 1559, he committed the execution of this to Inquisitor-general Valdés, who printed it in his Index of that year.[1385]

These briefs granted to the Spanish Inquisition no power to issue licences. So jealously was this reserved to the Holy See that, in 1574, Gregory XIII gave a special licence to Inquisitor-general Quiroga, with a faculty to extend it to members of the Suprema, in order to enable them to decide cases of heresy.[1386] This caution contrasts strangely with the favors shown to the Society of Jesus. Pius V, while yet inquisitor-general, granted to the Jesuit General faculty to issue licences; this was confirmed, _vivæ vocis oraculo_, by Gregory XIII and, to establish it more firmly, he was asked to embody it in a brief which he did, January 9, 1575, moreover releasing them from any censures or other penalty, by whomsoever inflicted, in so far as necessary to render the concession effective. Under this the Jesuits claimed to be independent of the edicts of the Spanish Inquisition, but it asserted its jurisdiction. In 1584 we find Padre Mariana applying for and obtaining a licence, through the Toledo tribunal, to read certain specified books--a licence which was withdrawn the same year. Still more aggressive was its action when, in 1587, it learned that some books had been received by the Jesuit Provincial, and the Suprema sent lists of them to the tribunals of Saragossa, Seville and Valladolid, with orders to examine them and detain such as they deemed proper. This assertion of control was repeated in 1602, when the Murcia tribunal was instructed to examine certain books belonging to the Jesuits and to return them if found unobjectionable.[1387]

[Sidenote: _LICENCES_]

The earliest formal grant of power to the Spanish Inquisition to issue licences would appear to have been made by Paul V early in the seventeenth century,[1388] but it had been exercised long before. The Index of Quiroga, issued in 1583, in its preliminary rules 3, 4, 5 and 8, assumes that inquisitors can grant written licences, but this power was held subject to the inquisitor-general and Suprema for, in the orders accompanying the distribution of the Index, consultation with them was prescribed as a necessary preliminary.[1389] From some examples of the period it would seem that only special and not general licences were granted, and that much circumspection was used with regard to them. Even Philip IV had no general licence until, about 1640, he wrote to Inquisitor-general Sotomayor that he had been amusing his leisure with Guicciardini's History, until he was told that it was prohibited. He therefore asked for a licence to read it and other prohibited books not treating of matters of faith, for he would not accept a licence to read them.[1390] A curious partial licence was one granted in 1614, to Padre Gullo Sabell (William Saville?) to read Catholic books in the English tongue--apparently the language sufficed to render them prohibited.[1391]

The tendency of the Spanish Inquisition to assert its independence of Rome in matters of censorship was especially manifested with regard to licences. When in 1622, Gregory XV and, in 1631, Urban VIII, revoked all licences, the Suprema declared that it was not the papal intention to interfere with the licences granted by the inquisitor-general, and that they remained in force.[1392] The next step was to invalidate all papal licences and accordingly, January 18, 1627, the Suprema presented a consulta to Philip IV, representing that many persons in Spain obtained them, and supplicating him to order his ambassador to urge the pope not to grant them, adding that meanwhile it was deemed necessary to issue an edict annulling them. Philip was not prepared to sanction so flagrant an assault on papal authority, and replied that he would ask the pope to transmit them through the inquisitor-general, but that, until the answer was received, no innovation must be attempted. Urban took advantage of the request to assert his supreme authority in a manner for which the Suprema had not bargained, for he annulled all licences, both papal and those issued by the inquisitor-general, the only exception being the one held by the inquisitor-general himself. As all the bishops in Spain were ordered to publish this brief, the Inquisition could not suppress it, however humiliating it was. Cardinal Zapata accordingly published it, February 21, 1628, requiring the surrender of all licences within twenty days, under heavy penalties, and when he issued his Index of 1632 he included in it the brief and his edict.[1393]

Urban pursued his victory by instructing Cardinal Mellini to write, December 6, 1628, to Zapata defining his authority to be that of granting licences to learned persons who furnished security that they wished to combat heresy, but the licences were to be limited in time, and to require the recipients to show to the Inquisition what they wrote.[1394] This however was a failure, for no attention seems to have been paid to the prescribed limitations. The Inquisition continued its independent course and finally carried its point, to a certain degree, by instructing the tribunals that, if papal licences were presented to them, they were not to be admitted, but were to be forwarded to the inquisitor-general for his action.[1395]

[Sidenote: _PENALTIES_]

Towards the close of the eighteenth century, Llorente tells us that licences were difficult to obtain. When an application was made, the inquisitor-general instituted secret inquiries as to the character of the applicant and, if the result was favorable, he was required to state his object and the nature of the works that he desired to consult; if the licence was granted, it was limited to a specified number of books in a definite branch of literature; permission to keep them was rarely granted, and all licences excepted works directed against Catholicism, such as the writings of modern philosophers.[1396] Doubtless this strictness may be true of certain times, but the practice varied according to the temper of the inquisitor-general or Suprema. There sometimes was great laxity, if we may believe the reasons alleged, in 1747, by Prado y Cuesta, for revoking all licences, for he says that on investigation he had found that they were not sought by men of learning, but by the frivolous of both sexes to gratify idle curiosity; many persons merely made a verbal request to read a single book and extended the permission to cover all that they wanted, while others, seeing that ignorant people were licensed, thought that the privilege was general and availed themselves of it without asking.[1397] Licences, moreover, were by no means so restricted in character as Llorente asserts. Some issued by Inquisitors-general Bonifaz and Beltran cover all prohibited books, except Machiavelli, Sarpi's Council of Trent, works assailing the Catholic religion and obscenities,[1398] and we have seen that religious houses generally and even occasionally individuals held licences enabling them to purchase from estates considerable miscellaneous lots of prohibited books, the possession of which, by deceased scholars, shows that they too must have enjoyed similar privileges.

From the very numerous applications for licences made about this time it appears that they were customarily addressed to the Suprema, which referred them to the appropriate tribunal for report as to the age, the learning and the judgement of the applicant. Under the Restoration this inquiry was extended to his moral and political conduct, showing that discrimination was made in favor of those whose conservative tendencies were approved.[1399]

* * * * *

We have seen the ferocious penalties of death and confiscation provided in the law of 1558 for unauthorized printing. With these the Inquisition had nothing to do, as its censorship was concerned only with books after publication, and its treatment of those who violated its rules was much more moderate. With its jurisdiction over them it allowed no interference, even from Rome, for, about 1565, it suppressed a papal jubilee indulgence, because it contained faculties of absolution for keeping prohibited books.[1400] In the Index of 1559, the penalties threatened for reading, possessing, buying or selling prohibited books were excommunication _latæ sententæ ipso facto_, two hundred ducats and a menace of prosecution for suspicion of heresy and disobedience.[1401] In the special edicts prohibiting individual books, there appears to be no established formula. Sometimes the penalty threatened is excommunication and two hundred ducats, sometimes excommunication and punishment at discretion, sometimes excommunication, fine and punishment at discretion.[1402]

This discretion manifested itself in a great variety of penalties, moderate and severe, both as regards readers and booksellers, though the latter appear commonly to be the more harshly visited. A rehabilitation granted, September 28, 1647, to Luis Sanaren, bookseller of Saragossa, infers that he had been reconciled and deprived of his civil rights.[1403] Miguel Rodríguez, a bookseller of Madrid, for importing and selling prohibited books, was sentenced, August 1, 1763, to reprimand, absolution _ad cautelam_, certain spiritual penances, all costs of trial and banishment from Madrid for six years, of which the first three were to be spent in an African presidio. This of course meant his utter ruin.[1404] At Logroño, in 1645, Fray Tomas de Nieva, for teaching in his professorial chair from a prohibited book, was condemned to grave reprimand before his colleagues, to retract certain propositions, to four years' reclusion, and to perpetual deprivation of teaching and of voting and being voted for.[1405] On the other hand, in 1803, Don Jacobo María de Parga y Puga, for the inveterate habit of reading prohibited books, knowing them to be prohibited, in contempt for many years of the authority of the Inquisition, was sentenced by the Madrid tribunal to fifteen days' spiritual exercises and to a private reprimand in the apartments of the inquisitor.[1406] So, in 1816, the Suprema, acting on a _sumaria_, and without subjecting the delinquents to a trial, sent to the Santiago tribunal a sentence on Juan Romero for reading prohibited books and on Josef Manuel García for selling and recommending them; they were to present themselves before the nearest commissioner, who was to reprimand and warn them that for a repetition of the offence they would not be treated with the same benignity.[1407]

[Sidenote: _THE SCRIPTURES_]

Cases of infraction, until a comparatively recent period, are not frequent. After the excitement of the Reformation was suppressed, intellectual activity in Spain seems to have been reduced to such torpor that the forbidden fruit was little sought. In the Toledo record from 1575 to 1610 there is not a single case, nor is there one in the same record from 1648 to 1794.[1408] In the disturbance of thought, preceding and during the revolutionary epoch, prosecutions become more frequent, although still not as numerous as might be expected from the importance claimed by the Inquisition for its services. From 1780 until 1820, in the whole of Spain, the total aggregate amounts only to three hundred and five. During this period, from 1808 to 1815, inclusive, the Inquisition was virtually dormant, having only five cases in all, which would leave, for the remaining years, an average slightly under nine. The crowding of a hundred and one cases into the six years, 1801 to 1806, reflects the urgency with which the government of Carlos IV was endeavoring to restrict the press, and that there were twenty in 1819 is significant of the agitation leading to the revolution of January, 1820.[1409] The slenderness of the whole record is the measure of the success which attended the combined action of the state and of the Inquisition in benumbing for nearly three centuries the Spanish intellect.

* * * * *