Chapter XXX: Appendix: IV

INQUISITION OF GOA, CONCLUDED.

The Inquisition of Goa continued its Autos for a century after the affair of Dellon. In the summer of 1808, Dr. Claudius Buchanan visited that city, and had been unexpectedly invited by Joseph a Doloribus, second and most active inquisitor, to lodge with him during his visit. Not without some surprise, Dr. Buchanan found himself, heretic, schismatic, and rebel as he was, politely entertained by so dread a personage. Regarding his English visitor merely as a literary man, or professing to do so, Friar Joseph, himself well educated, seemed to enjoy his company, and was unreservedly communicative on every subject not pertaining to his own vocation. When that subject was first introduced by an apparently incidental question, he did not hesitate to return the desired information, telling Dr. Buchanan that the establishment was nearly as extensive as in former times. In the library of the chief inquisitor he saw a register containing the names of all the officers, who still were numerous.

On the second evening after his arrival, the doctor was surprised to see his host come from his apartment, clothed in black robes from head to foot, instead of white, the usual color of his order (Augustinian). He said that he was going to sit on the tribunal of the holy office, and it transpired that, so far from his "august office" not occupying much of his time, he had to sit there three or four days every week. After his return, in the evening, the doctor put Dellon's book into his hand, asking him if he had ever seen it. He had never seen it before, and, after reading aloud and slowly, "Relation de l'Inquisition de Goa," began to peruse it with eagerness.

While Dr. Buchanan employed himself in writing, Friar Joseph devoured page after page; but as the narrative proceeded, betrayed evident symptoms of uneasiness. He then turned to the middle, looked at the end, skimmed over the table of contents, fixed on its principal passages, and at one place exclaimed, in his broad Italian accent, "Mendacium! mendacium.'" The doctor requested him to mark the passages that were untrue, proposed to discuss them afterwards, and said he had other books on the subject. The mention of other books startled him; he looked up anxiously at some books on the table, and then gave himself up to the perusal of Dellon's "Relation," until bedtime. Even then, he asked permission to take it to his chamber.

The doctor had fallen asleep under the roof of the inquisitor's convent, confident, under God, in the protection at that time guaranteed to a British subject, his servants sleeping in the gallery outside the chamber-door. About midnight, he was waked by loud shrieks and expressions of terror from some one in the gallery. In the first moment of surprise, he concluded it must be the alguazils of the holy office seizing his servants to carry them to the Inquisition. But, on going out, he saw the servants standing at the door, and the person who had caused the alarm, a boy of about fourteen, at a little distance, surrounded by some of the priests, who had come out of their cells on hearing the noise. The boy said he had seen a spectre; and it was a considerable time before the agitations of his body and voice subsided. Next morning at breakfast, the inquisitor apologized for the disturbance, and said the boy's alarm proceeded from a phantasma animi,--phantom of the imagination.

It might have been so. Phantoms might well haunt such a place. As to Dellon's book, the inquisitor acknowledged that the descriptions were just; but complained that he had misjudged the motives of the inquisitors, and written uncharitably of Holy Church. Their conversation grew earnest, and the inquisitor was anxious to impress his visitor with the idea that the Inquisition had undergone a change in some respects, and that its terrors were mitigated. At length Dr. Buchanan plainly requested to see the Inquisition, that he might judge for himself as to the humanity shown to the inmates,--according to the inquisitor,--and gave, as a reason why he should be satisfied, his interest in the affairs of India, on which he had written, and his purpose to write on them again, in which case he could scarcely be silent concerning the Inquisition. The countenance of his host fell; but, after some further observations, he reluctantly promised to comply. Next morning, after breakfast, Joseph a Doloribus went to dress for the holy office, and soon returned in his black robes. He said he would go half an hour before the usual time, for the purpose of showing him the Inquisition. The doctor fancied he looked more severe than usual, and that his attendants were not as civil as before. But the truth was, that the midnight scene still haunted him. They had proceeded in their palanquins to the holy house, distant about a quarter of a mile from the convent, and the inquisitor said as they were ascending the steps of the great entrance, that he hoped the doctor would be satisfied with a transient view of the Inquisition, and would retire when he should desire him to do so. The doctor followed with tolerable confidence, towards the great hall aforementioned, where they were met by several well-dressed persons, familiars, as it afterwards appeared, who bowed very low to the inquisitor, and looked with surprise at the stranger. Dr. Buchanan paced the hall slowly, and in thoughtful silence; the inquisitor thoughtful too, silent and embarrassed. A multitude of victims seemed to haunt the place, and the doctor could not refrain from breaking silence. "Would not the Holy Church wish, in her mercy, to have those souls back again, that she might allow them a little further probation?" The inquisitor answered nothing, but beckoned him to go with him to a door at one end of the hall. By that door he conducted him to some small rooms, and thence, to the spacious apartments of the chief inquisitor. Having surveyed those, he brought him back again to the great hall, and seemed anxious that the troublesome visitor should depart; but only the very words of Dr. B. can adequately describe the close of this extraordinary interview."

"Now, father," said I, "lead me to the dungeons below: I want to see the captives." "No," said he, "that cannot be." I now began to suspect that it had been in the mind of the inquisitor, from the beginning, to show me only a certain part of the Inquisition, in the hope of satisfying my inquiries in a general way. I urged him with earnestness; but he steadily resisted, and seemed offended, or, rather, agitated, by my importunity. I intimated to him plainly, that the only way to do justice to his own assertion and arguments regarding the present state of the Inquisition, was to show me the prisons and the captives. I should then describe only what I saw; but now the subject was left in awful obscurity. "Lead me down," said I, "to the inner building, and let me pass through the two hundred dungeons, ten feet square, described by your former captives. Let me count the number of your present captives, and converse with them. I WANT, TO SEE IF THERE BE ANY SUBJECTS OF THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT, TO WHOM WE OWE PROTECTION. I want to ask how long they have been there, how long it is since they have seen the light of the sun, and whether they ever expect to see it again. Show me the chamber of torture, and declare what modes of execution or punishment are now practiced inside the walls of the Inquisition, in lieu of the public Auto de Fe. If, after all that has passed, father, you resist this reasonable request, I should be justified in believing that you are afraid of exposing the real state of the Inquisition in India."

To these observations the inquisitor made no reply; but seemed impatient that I should withdraw. "My good father," said I; "I am about to take my leave of you, and to thank you for your hospitable attentions; and I wish to preserve on my mind a favorable sentiment of your kindness and candor. You cannot, you say, show me the captives and the dungeons; be pleased, then, merely to answer this question, for I shall believe your word: how many prisoners are there now below in the cells of the Inquisition?" He replied, "That is a question which I cannot answer." On his pronouncing these words, I retired hastily towards the door, and wished him farewell. We shook hands with as much cordiality as we could, at the moment, assume; and both of us, I believe, were sorry that our parting took place with a clouded countenance.

After leaving the inquisitor, Dr. Buchanan, feeling as if he could not refrain from endeavoring to get another and perhaps a nearer view, returned to avail himself of the pretext afforded by a promise from the chief inquisitor, of a letter to one of the British residents at Travancore, in answer to one which he had brought him from that officer. The inquisitors he expected to find within, in the "board of the holy office." The door-keepers surveyed him doubtfully, but allowed him to pass. He entered the great hall, went up directly to the lofty crucifix described by Dellon, sat down on a form, wrote some notes, and then desired an attendant to carry in his name to the inquisitor. As he was walking across the hall, he saw a poor woman sitting by the wall. She clasped her hands, and looked at him imploringly. The sight chilled his spirits; and as he was asking the attendants the cause of her apprehension,--for she was awaiting trial,--Joseph a Doloribus came, in answer to his message, and was about to complain of the intrusion, when he parried the complaint by asking for the letter from the chief inquisitor. He promised to send it after him, and conducted him to the door. As they passed the poor woman, the doctor pointed to her, and said with emphasis, "Behold, father, another victim of the Holy Inquisition." The other answered nothing; they bowed, and separated without a word.

When Dr. Buchanan published his "Christian Researches in Asia," in the year 1812, the Inquisition still existed at Goa; but the establishment of constitutional government in Portugal, put an end to it throughout the whole Portuguese dominions.