Although, for
the most part, as we shall see, confiscation was technically not the work of
the Inquisition, the distinction was rather nominal than real. Even in times
and places in which the inquisitor did not pronounce the sentence of
confiscation, it was the accompaniment of the sentence which he did pronounce.
It was, therefore, one of the most serious of the penalties at his disposal,
and the largeness of the results effected by it give it an importance worthy a
somewhat minute examination.
For
the source of this, as of so much else, we must look to the Roman law. It is
true that, cruel as were the imperial edicts against heresy, they did not go to
the length of thus indirectly punishing the innocent. Even when the detested
Manichaeans were mercilessly condemned to death, their property was confiscated
only when their heirs were likewise heretics. If the children were orthodox
they succeeded to the estate of the heretic parent, who could not execute a
will and disinherit them. It was otherwise with crime. Any conviction
involving deportation or the mines carried with it confiscation, though the
wife could reclaim her dower and any gifts made to her before the commission
of the offence, and so could children emancipated from the patria potestas. All else inured to
the fisc. In majestas, or treason, the
offender was liable to condemnation after death, involving the confiscation of
his estate, which was held to have lapsed to the fisc at the time when he first
conceived the crime. These provisions furnished the armory whence pope and
king drew the weapons which rendered the pursuit of heresy attractive and
profitable.
King
Roger, who occupied the throne of the Two Sicilies during the first half of
the twelfth century, seems to have been the
first
to apply the Koman practice by decreeing confiscation for all who apostatized from the Catholic faith—whether
to the Greek Church, to Islam, or to Judaism does not appear. Yet the Church
cannot escape the responsibility of naturalizing this penalty in European law
as a punishment for spiritual transgressions. The great Council of Tours, held
by Alexander III, in 1163, commanded all secular princes to imprison heretics
and confiscate their property. Lucius III, in his Verona decretal of 1184,
sought to obtain for the Church the benefit of the confiscation which he again
declared to be incurred by heresy. One of the earliest acts of Innocent III,
in his double capacity of temporal prince and head of Christianity, was to
address a decretal to his subjects of Viterbo, in which he says,
"In
the lands subject to our temporal jurisdiction we order the property of
heretics to be confiscated; in other lands we command this to be done by the
temporal princes and powers, who, if they show themselves negligent therein,
shall be compelled to do it by ecclesiastical censures. Nor shall the property
of heretics who withdraw from heresy revert to them, unless some one pleases to
take pity on them. For as, according to the legal sanctions, in addition to
capital punishment, the property of those guilty of majestas is confiscated,
and life simply is allowed to their children through mercy alone, so much the
more should those who wander from the faith and offend the Son of God be cut
off from Christ and be despoiled of their temporal goods, since it is a far
greater crime to assail spiritual than temporal majesty."
This
decretal, which was adopted into the canon law, is important as embodying the
whole theory of the subject. In imitation of the Roman law of majestas, the property
of the heretic was forfeited from the moment he became a heretic or committed
an act of heresy. If he recanted, it might be restored to him purely in mercy. When
the ecclesiastical tribunals declared him to be, or to have been, a heretic,
confiscation operated itself; the act of seizing the property was a matter for
the secular power to whom it inured, and the mercy which might spare it could
only be shown by that power. All this it is requisite to keep in mind if we
would correctly appreciate some points which have frequently been misunderstood.
Innocent's
decretal further illustrates the fact that at the commencement of the struggle
with heresy the chief difficulty encountered by the Church in relation to
confiscation was to persuade or coerce the temporal rulers to do what it held
to be their duty in taking possession of heretical property. This was one of
the principal offences which Raymond VI of Toulouse expiated so bitterly, as
explained to him by Innocent in 1210. His son proclaimed it as the law in his
statutes of 1234, and included in its provisions, in accordance with the
Ordonnance of Louis VIII, in 1226, and that of Louis IX, in 1229, all who
favored heretics in any way or refused to aid in their capture; but his policy
did not always comport with its enforcement, and he sometimes had to be
sternly rebuked for non-feasance. After all danger of armed resistance had
disappeared, however, sovereigns, as a rule, eagerly welcomed the opportunity
of recruiting their slender revenues, and the confiscation of the property of
heretics and of fautors of heresy was generally recognized in European law,
although the Church was occasionally obliged to repeat its injunctions and
threats, and though there were some regions in which they were slackly obeyed
The
relation of the Inquisition to confiscation varied essentially with time and
place. In France the principle derived from the Roman law was generally
recognized, that the title to property devolved to the fisc as soon as the
crime had been committed. There was therefore nothing for the inquisitor to do
with regard to it. He simply ascertained and announced the guilt of the accused
and left the State to take action. Thus Gui Foucoix treats the subject as one
wholly outside of the functions of the inquisitor, who at most can only advise
the secular ruler or intercede for mercy; while he holds that those only are
legally exempt from forfeiture who come forward spontaneously and confess
before any evidence has been taken against them. In accordance with this, there
is, as a rule, no allusion to confiscation in the sentences of the French
Inquisition, though in one or two instances chance has preserved for us, in the
accounts of procureurs
des encours, or royal stewards of the confiscations, evidence
that estates were sold and covered into the fisc in cases in which the
forfeiture is not specified in the sentence. In condemnations of absentees and
of the dead, confiscation is occasionally declared, as though in these the
State might need some guidance, but even here the practice is not uniform. In a
sentence issued by Guillem Arnaud and Etienne de S. Thibery, November 24,
1241, on two absentees, their estates are adjudged to whom it may concern. In
the Register of Bernard de Caux (1216-1248), in thirty-two cases of
contumacious absentees confiscation is included in the sentence, and in nine
similar ones it is omitted, as well as in one hundred and fifty-nine condemnations
to prison in which it was undoubtedly operative. In the Inquisition of
Carcassonne, a sentence of December 12, 1328, on five deceased persons, who
would have been imprisoned had they lived, ends with et consequenter bona ipsorum dicimus
confiscanda; while a previous sentence, February 24, 1325,
identical in character, on four defunct culprits, has no such corollary appended.
In fact, strictly speaking, it was recognized that the inquisitor
had no power to remit confiscations without permission from the fisc, and the
custom of extending mercy to those who came forward voluntarily and confessed
was founded upon a special concession to that effect granted by Raymond of
Toulouse to the Inquisition in 1235. As soon as a suspected heretic was cited or arrested the secular officials sequestrated
his property and notified his debtors by proclamation. No doubt, when
condemnation took place, the inquisitor communicated the result to the proper
officials, but as a rule no record of the fact seems to have been kept in the
archives of the Holy Office, although an early manual of practice specifies it
as part of his duty to see that the confiscation was enforced. At a later
period, in 1328, in a record of an assembly of experts held at Pamiers, the
presence is specified of Arnaud Assalit, royal procureur des encours of Carcassonne, so that
probably by this time it had become customary for that official to attend
these deliberations and thus obtain early notice of the sentences to be
passed.
VARIATIONS IN PRACTICE
In
Italy it was long before any settled practice was established. In 1252 a bull
of Innocent IV directs the rulers of Lombardy, Tarvisina, and Romagna to
confiscate without fail the property of all who were excommunicated as
heretics, or as receivers, defenders, or fautors of heretics, thus recognizing
confiscation as a matter belonging to the secular power. Yet soon the papal
authority succeeded in obtaining a share of the spoils, even beyond the limits
of the States of the Church, as is seen in the bulls Ad extirpanda of
Innocent IV and Alexander IV, and the matter thus became one in which the
Inquisition had a direct interest. The indifference which so well became the
French tribunals was therefore not readily maintained, and the share of the
inquisitor in the results led him to participate in the process of securing
them. Yet there were variations in practice. Zanghino tells us that formerly confiscations
were decreed in the States of the Church by the ecclesiastical judges and
elsewhere by the secular power, but that in his time (circa 1320) they were
everywhere (in Italy) included in the jurisdiction of the episcopal and
inquisitorial courts, and the secular authorities had nothing to do with them;
but he adds that confiscation is prescribed by law for heresy, and that the
inquisitor has no discretion to remit it, except in the case of voluntary
converts with the assent of the bishop. Yet though the forfeiture occurs ipso facto by the commission of the crime, it requires a declaratory
sentence of confiscation. This consequently was expressed in the most formal
manner in the condemnation of the accused by the Italian Inquisition, and the
secular authorities were told not to interfere unless called upon.
At a
very early period in some places the Italian inquisitors seem to have
undertaken not only to decree but to control the confiscations. About 1245 we
find the Florentine inquisitor, Ruggieri Calcagni, sentencing a Catharan named
Diotaiuti, for relapse, with a fine of one hundred lire. Ruggieri acknowledges
the receipt of this, to be applied to the pope, or to the furtherance of the
faith, and formally concedes the rest of the heretic's estate to his wife
Jacoba, thus exercising ownership over the whole. Yet this was not maintained,
for in 1283 there is a sentence of the Podestà of Florence, reciting that the
inquisitor Fra Salomone da Lucca had notified him that the widow Ruvinosa,
lately deceased, had died a heretic, and that her property was to be
confiscated; whereupon he orders it to be seized and sold, and the proceeds
divided according to the papal constitutions. At length, however, the
inquisitors assumed and exercised full control over the handling of the confiscations.
In the conveyance of a confiscated house by the municipal authorities of
Florence, in 1327, to the Dominicans, the deed is careful to assert that it is
made with the assent of the inquisitor. Even in Naples we see King Robert, in
1324, ordering the inquisitors to pay out of the royal share of the
confiscations fifty ounces of gold to the Prior of the Church of San Domenico
of Naples, to aid in its completion.
In
Germany the Diet of Worms, in 1231, indicates the confusion existing in the
feudal mind between heresy and treason by allowing the allodial lands and
personal property of the condemned to descend to the heirs, while fiefs were
confiscated to the suzerain. If he was a serf, his goods inured to his master;
but from all personal property was deducted the cost of burning its owner and
the droits de justice of the seigneur-justicier. Two yeare later, in 1233, the Council of Mainz
protested against the injustice, which quickly showed itself in Germany as
elsewhere, of assuming guilt as soon as a man was accused, and treating his
property as though he were convicted. It directed that the estates of those on
trial should remain untouched until sentence was rendered, and any one who
meanwhile should plunder or partition them should be excommunicated until he
made restitution and rendered satisfaction. Finally, however, when the Emperor
Charles IV endeavored to introduce the Inquisition into Germany, in 1369, he
adopted the Italian custom and ordered one third of the confiscations to be
made over to the inquisitors.
DEGREE OF GUILT
The
exact degree of criminality which entailed confiscation is not capable of very
rigid definition. Even in states where the inquisitor nominally had no control
over it, the arbitrary discretion lodged with him as to the fate of the accused
placed the matter practically in his hands, and his notification to the secular
authorities would be a Virtual sentence. It is
probable that custom varied with time and with the temper of the inquisitor. We
have seen that Innocent III commanded it for all heretics, but What
constituted technical heresy Was not so easily determined. The statutes of
Raymond decreed it not only for heretics, but for those who shoWed them favor.
The Council of Beziers, in 1233, demanded it for aLL reconciled converts not
condemned to Wear crosses, and those of Beziers, in 1246, and Albi, in 1254,
prescribed it for all Whom the inquisitors should penance With imprisomnent.
Still, in a sentence of February 19, 1237, in Which the inquisitors
of
Toulouse condemn some twenty or thirty penitents to perpetual imprisonment,
confiscation is only threatened as an additional punishment in case they do
not perform the penance. Imprisomnent, however, finally Was admitted by
legists as the invariable test; although St. Louis, when in 1259 he mitigated
his Ordonnance of 1229, ordered confiscation not only for those who were
condemned to prison, but for those who contumaciously refused obedience to
citations and those in whose houses heretics were found, his officials being
instructed to ascertain from the inquisitors in all cases, while pending,
whether the accused deserved imprisonment, and if so, to retain the
sequestrated property. When he further provided, as a special grace, that the
heirs should be restored to possession in cases Where the heretic had offered
hIMself for conversion before citation, had entered a religious order, and had
worthily died there, he shows how universal confiscation had previously been
and how ruthlessly the principle had been enforced that a single act of heresy
forfeited all ownership. In fact, even at the close of the fifteenth century,
the rule Was laid down that confiscation was a matter of course, while
restoration of property to a reconciled penitent required an express
declaration.
According
to the most lenient construction of the law, therefore, the imprisomnent of a
reconciled convert carried with it the confiscation of his property, and as
imprisonment was the ordinary penance, confiscation was general. There may
possibly have been exceptions. The six prisoners released in 1218 by Innocent
iv had been in jail for some time—some of them for four years and more after
confessing heresy— and yet the liberal contributions to the Holy Land which
purchased their pardon show that they or their friends must have had control of
property— unless, indeed, the money was raised on a pledge of the estates to
be restored. So When Alaman de roaix was condemned to imprisonment by Bernard
de Caux, in 1218, the sentence provided for an annuity to be paid to a person
designated, and for compensation to be made for the rapine which he had
committed, which Would look as though property were left to him; but as he had for ten years been a contumacious and
proscribed fugitive, these fines must have been taken out of his estate in the
hands of the State. Apparent exceptions such as these can be accounted for, and
the proceedings of the Iquisition as a whole indicate that imprisonment and
confiscation were inseparable. Sometimes, even, it is stated in sentences
passed upon the dead that they are pronounced worthy of imprisonment in order
to deprive the heirs of succession to the estates. At a later date, indeed, Eymerich, who dismisses the whole matter briefly as one with
which the inquisitor has no concern, speaks as though confiscation only took
place when a heretic did not repent and recant before sentence, but his
commentator, Pegna, easilY proves this to be an error. Zanghino assumes
as a matter of course that property is forfeited by the act of heresy; and he
points out that pecuniary penances cannot be imposed because the whole estate
is gone, although there may be mercy shown at discretion with the assent of the
bishop, and simple suspicion is not subject to confiscation.
In
the early zeal of persecution everything was swept away in wholesale seizure,
but, in 1237, Gregory IX assumed that the dowers of Catholic wives ought to be
exempt in certain cases, and in Innocent IV erected it into a rule that such
dowers should be restored to the wives and should not be included in future forfeitures,
although heresy would not justify divorce, and, in 1258, St. Louis accepted
this rule. It was subject to serious limitations, however, since under the
canon law the wife could not claim it if she had been cognizant of the
husband's heresy when she married, and, according to some authorities, if she
had lived with him after ascertaining it, or even if she had failed to inform
against him within forty days after discovering it. As the children were incapable
of inheritance, she only held the dower for life, after which it fell into the
fisc.
Although
in principle confiscation was an affair of the State, the division of the
spoils did not follow any invariable rule. Before the organization of the
Inquisition, when the Waldenses of Strassburg were burned, it is
mentioned that their forfeited property was equally divided between the
Church and the secular athorities. Lucius III, as we have just seen,
endeavored to turn the forfeitures to the benefit of the Church. In the papal
territory there could be little question as to this, and Innocent IV, in his
bull Ad extirpanda of 1252, showed disinterestedness in devoting the whole proceeds to the
stimulation of persecution. One third was given to the local authorities, one
third to the officials of the Inquisition, and one third to the bishop and
inquisitor, to be expended in the assault on heresy—provisions which were retained
in the subsequent recensions of the bull by Alexander I. and Clement IV,
while forfeited bail went exclusively to the inquisitor. Yet this was
speedily held to refer only to the independent states of Italy, for, in 1260,
we find Alexander IV ordering the inquisitors of Rome and Spoleto to sell the
confiscated estates of heretics and pay over the proceeds to the pope himself;
and a transaction of 1261 shows Urban IV collecting three hundred and twenty
lire from some confiscations at Spoleto.
At
length, both in the Roman province and elsewhere throughout Italy, the custom
settled down to a tripartite division between the local community, the
Inquisition, and the papal camera, the reason for the latter, as given by
Benedict XI, being that the bishops appropriated to themselves the share
intrusted to them for the persecution of heresy. In Florence a transaction of 1283 shows this to be
the received regulation; and documents of various dates during the next
half-century indicate that it was the custom of the republic to appoint
attorneys or trustees to take seisin of confiscated property in the name of
the city, which in 1319 liberally granted its share for the next ten years to the construction of the
church of Santa Separata. That the amounts were not small may be guessed from
a petition of the inquisitors to the republic in 1299, setting forth that the Holy Office must have
funds wherewith to
pay its stipendiary officials, and therefore praying leave to invest in real
estate the sums accruing to the Inquisition from this source—showing
accumulations prudently garnered for the future. The request was granted to the
extent of one thousand lire, with the proviso that none of the city's share be
taken. This latter precaution would seem to argue no great confidence in the
integrity of the inquisitors, nor was the insinuation uncalled for. By this
time the money-changers had fairly occupied the Temple, and, as we have seen in
the last chapter, it seemed almost impossible to preserve official honesty when
persecution had become almost as much a financial speculation as a matter of
faith. That plain- spoken Franciscan, Alvaro Pelayo, Bishop of Silva, writing
about the year 1335, bitterly reproaches those of his brethren who act as
inquisitors with their abuse of the funds accruing to the Holy Office. The
papal division into thirds he declares was generally disregarded; the
inquisitors monopolized the whole and spent it on themselves or enriched their
kindred at their pleasure. Chance has preserved in the Florentine archives some
documents confirmatory of this accusation. It seems that in 1343 Clement VI
obtained evidence that the inquisitors of both Florence and Lucca were
habitually defrauding the papal camera of its third of the fines and confiscations,
and accordingly he sent to Pietro di Vitale, Primicerio of Lucca, authority to
collect the sums in arrears and to prosecute the embezzlers. How it fared with
them we have no means of knowing, but the camera seems not to have gained
much. In filling the vacancies thus occasioned Pietro di Aquila, a Franciscan
of high standing, was appointed in Florence, who fell at once into the same
evil ways, and within two years was obliged to fly from a prosecution by the
primicerio, in addition to the charges of extortion brought against him by the
republic.
In
Naples, under the Angevines, when the Inquisition was first introduced, Charles
of Anjou monopolized the confiscations with the same rapacity that was
customary in France. As early as March, 1270, we find him writing to his
representatives in the Principato Ultra that three heretics had recently been
burned at
Benevento,
whose estates he orders looked after and accounted for in detail. In 1290,
however, Charles II ordered the fines and confiscations to be divided into
thirds, of which one should inure to the royal fisc, one be used for the promotion
of the faith, and one be given to the Inquisition. Feudal lands, however, were
to revert to the crown or to the immediate lord as the case might require. In
Venice the compromise reached in 1289 between the signiory and Nicholas IV,
whereby the republic permitted the introduction of the Inquisition, provided
that all receipts of the Holy Office should be for the benefit of the State,
and this arrangement seems to have been maintained. In Piedmont the
confiscations were divided between the State and the Inquisition until, in the
latter half of the fifteenth century, Amedeo IX took the whole, allowing to
the Holy Office only the expenses of the proceedings.
In
the other Italian states the papal curia grew dissatisfied with its share, when
there was no longer a necessity of purchasing the cooperation of the civil
power with a third of the spoils. It is a disputed point with the jurists when
and how the change was effected, but in the first quarter of the fourteenth
century the Church succeeded in grasping the whole of the confiscations, which
were divided equally between the Inquisition and the papal camera. The rapacity
with which this source of income was exploited is illustrated in a case
occurring at Pisa in 1304. The inquisitor Angelo da Reggio had condemned the
memory of a deceased citizen, Loterio Bonamici, and confiscated his property,
part of which he then gave away and part he sold at prices which the papal curia
esteemed too low. Benedict XI thereupon ordered the Bishop of Ostia not to
punish the inquisitor, but to use freely the censures of the Church in hunting
up the assets in the hands of the holders and to take it from them. Finally, in
1438, Eugenius IV generously handed back to the bishops the share of the
papal camera in order to stimulate their slackness in persecution, and, where
the bishop was also the temporal lord of his see, the confiscations were to be
equally divided between him and the Inquisition. Bernardo di Como, however,
writing about the year 1500, asserts that the
whole
confiscations inure to the inquisitor to be expended at his discretion ; but he
subsequently admits that the subject is confused and uncertain, owing to
contradictory papal decisions and conflicting jurisdictions in different
territories.
In
Spain the rule was laid down that if the heretic were a clerk, or a lay vassal
of the Church, the confiscation went to the Church; if otherwise, to the
temporal scigneur.
QUARRELS OVER THE SPOILS
This
greed for the plunder of the wretched victims of persecution is peculiarly
repulsive as exhibited by the Church, and may to some extent palliate the
similar action by the State in countries where the latter was strong enough to
seize and retain it. The threats of coercion, which at first were necessary to
induce the temporal princes to confiscate the property of their heretical subjects,
soon became superfluous, and history has few displays of man's eagerness to
profit by his fellow's misfortunes more deplorable than that of the vultures
which followed in the wake of the Inquisition to batten on the ruin which it
wrought.
In
Languedoc at first the Inquisition endeavored to control the confiscations for
the purpose of building prisons and maintaining prisoners, but these
pretensions received no attention. Under the feudal system, the confiscations
were for the benefit of the seigneur haut-justicier. The rapid extension of the
royal jurisdiction, in the second half of the thirteenth century in France,
ended by practically placing them in the hands of the king, but during the earlier
and more profitable period there were quarrels over the spoils. After the
treaty of Paris, in 1229, St. Louis, in granting fiefs in the newly-acquired
territories, seems to have endeavored to provide for these questions by
reserving the confiscations for heresy. The prudence
of
this is shown by the suit brought by the Marechaux de Mirepoix—one of the few
families founded by the adventurers who accompanied de Montfort—who claimed
the movables of all heretics captured in their lands, even if the goods were
in the lands of the king—a demand which was rejected by the Parlement of
Paris, in 1269. The bishops put in a claim to the confiscations of all real and
personal property of heretics living under their jurisdiction, and at the
Council of Lille (Comtat Venaissin) in 1251, they threatened with
excommunication any one who should dispute it. The groundlessness of this claim
is seen in an agreement made under the auspices of the Legate Romano in
December, 1229, between the Bishop of Beziers and the king, in which the royal
right to the confiscations is recognized as incontestable, and the bishop only
stipulates that in case of fiefs they shall, if granted, be held subject to his
seignorial rights, or if the king retains them some compensation shall be made
for the loss of the suzerainty. This indicates a source of reasonable
complaint, for, in the annexation of fiefs to the crown, the bishops found
themselves losing in place of profiting by persecution. Various efforts were
made to adjust these conflicting claims over the spoil. By a transaction of
1234 we see that the king had subjected himself to the stipulation of parting
with all confiscated property within a year and a day. The Council of Beziers,
in 1246, adopted a canon on the subject, but it could not be enforced, and at
length, about 1255, St. Louis agreed upon a compromise, whereby all confiscated
lands subject to the bishops were equally divided, with a right on the part of
the prelates to buy out, within two months, the royal share at a price fixed by
arbitration; if this right was not exercised the king was bound, within a year
and a day, to pass the lands out of his hands into those of a person of the
same condition as the former owner, to be held under the same terms of service
or villeinage; but all movables were declared to belong unreservedly to the
crown. Under this arrangement the temporalities of the sees grew rapidly. We
have seen the apostolic poverty which afflicted the bishops of Toulouse prior
to the crusades: during the succeeding century the whole land was impoverished
and the cities suffered especially, yet when, in 1317, John XXII carved six
new bishoprics out of the see of Toulouse, his reason was found in the
excessive revenues of the bishop, amounting to forty thousand livres Tournois
per annum, although it had already been shorn of nearly half of its territory by Boniface
VIII to form the see of Pamiers.
The
bishops of Albi were especially active and fortunate in this saturnalia of
plunder. During the confusion of the wars and the settlement they assumed
rights, including haute
justice and the confiscations, which led to contests with the
representatives of the crown, lasting for thirty years. They were specially
active in the pursuit of heretics, which they thus found profitable as well as
praiseworthy. In 1247 Bishop Bertrand procured from Inncent IV. a special
deputation of inquisitorial power, probably to strengthen his claims, and the
next year he drove a thriving business in selling commutations for
confiscation to condemned and repentant heretics—an expedient more lucrative
than regular, for when Alphonse of Poitiers, in 1253, endeavored to speculate
in the confiscations in the same way, he was compelled to desist by the
Archbishop of Narbonne and the Bishop of Toulouse, who declared that it would
lead to the scandal of the faithful and the destruction of religion. Finally,
to settle the claims of the bishop on the confiscations, St. Louis, in
December, 1264, made with Bernard de Combret, the incumbent of the see, a
convention, promptly confirmed by Urban IV, by which the prelate was
entitled to one half of all confiscations of realty and personalty within the
diocese, with the further advantage that the king's share of the real estate
passed into possession of the bishop if it was not sold within a
twelvemonth, and became his absolute property if not sold within three years. Accordingly in the accounts of the royal procureurs des encours of Carcassonne we constantly find the confiscations in
Albi shared with the bishop. Although between St. John's day 1322 and 1323 this
share in money amounted only to one hundred and sixty livres, there were times
when it was much greater. About the year 1300 Bishop Bernard de Castanet
generously gave to the Dominican Church of Albi his portion of the estates of
two citizens, Guillem Aymeric and Jean de Castanet, condemned after death,
which amounted to more than one thousand livres. It can readily be imagined
that this arrangement with the crown gave rise to constant quarrels. In vain
Philippe le Bel, in 1307, ordered the observance of the agreement with
restitution for any infractions. In 1316 we find the bishop claiming
properties which had not been sold within the three years, and Arnaud Assalit,
the procureur, arguing that he had been prevented from effecting sales
by just and legitimate causes, when the seneschal, Aymeric de Croso, decided
that the impediments had been legitimate, and that the rights of the king were
not forfeited.
These
were not the only questions arising from this wholesale spoliation which
afforded an ample harvest to the legal profession. A suit brought by the
bishops of Rodez for some lands held by the crown as heretic confiscations
dragged on for thirty years until it reached the Parlement of Paris, which
coolly annulled all the proceedings on the ground that those who had acted for
the crown had lacked the requisite authority. Almost equally protracted and
confused was a suit between Eleanor de Montfort, Countess of Vendome, and the
king over the lands of Jean Baudier and Raymond Calverie. The confiscations
occurred in 1300; in 1327 the suit was still pursuing its weary way, to be
finally compromised in 1335.
All
prelates were not as rapacious as those of Albi, one of whom we find still, in
1328, complaining of the evasions resorted to by the victims to save a fragment
of their property for their families; but the princes and their representatives were relentless in
grasping all that they could lay their hands on. I have mentioned that as soon
as a suspect was cited before the Inquisition his property was sequestrated to
await the result, and proclamation was made to all his debtors and those who
held his effects to bring everything to the king. Charles of Anjou carried this
practice to Naples, where a royal order, in 1269, to arrest sixty-nine
heretics contains instructions to seize simultaneously their goods, which are
to be held for the king. So assured were the officials that condemnation would
follow trial that they frequently did not await the result, but carried out the
confiscation in advance. This abuse was coeval with the founding of the
Inquisition. In 1237 Gregory I. complained of it and forbade it, but to
little purpose, for in 1246 the Council of Beziers again prohibited it,
unless, indeed, the offender had knowingly adhered to those who were known to
be heretics, in which case, apparently, it was sanctioned. When, in 1259,
St. Louis mitigated the rigors of confiscation, he indirectly forbade this
wrong by instructing his officials that, when the accused was not condemned
to imprisonment, they should give him or his heirs a hearing to reclaim the
property; but, if there was any suspicion of heresy, it was not to be restored
without taking security that it should be surrendered if anything was proved
within five years, during which period it was not to bo alienated. Yet still
the outrage of confiscation before conviction continued with sufficient
frequency to induce Boniface VIII to embody its prohibition in the canon law.
Even this did not put a stop to it. The Inquisition had so habituated men's
minds to the belief that no one escaped who had once fallen into its hands, that
the officials considered themselves safe in acting upon the presumption. By an
unusual coincidence we have the data from various sources in a single case of
this kind which is doubtless the type of many others. In the prosecutions at
Albi in 1300, a certain Jean Baudier was first examined January 20, when he
acknowledged nothing. At a second hearing, February 5, he confessed to acts of
heresy, and he was condemned March 7. Yet his confiscated property was sold
January 29, not only before his sentence, but before his confession. Guillem
Garric, charged with complicity in the plot to destroy the inquisitorial
records of Carcassonne in 1284, was not sentenced until 1319, but in 1301 we
find the Count of Foix and the royal officials quarrelling over his confiscated castle of Monteirat.
RAPACITY OF THE PRINCES
The
ferocious rapacity with which this process of confiscation was carried on may
be conceived from a report made by Jean d'Arsis, Seneschal of Rouergue, to
Alphonse of Poitiers, about 1253, as an evidence of the zeal with which he was
guarding the interests of his suzerain. The Bishop of Rodez was conducting a
vigorous episcopal inquisition, and at Najac had handed over a certain
Hugues Paraire as a heretic, whom the seneschal burned "incontinently" and collected over one thousand livres Tournois from his estate. Hearing,
subsequently, that the bishop had cited before him at Rodez six other citizens
of Najac, d'Arsis hastened thither to see that no fraud was practised on the
count. The bishop told him that these men were all heretics, and that he would
make the count gain one hundred thousand sols from their confiscations, but
both he and his assessors begged the seneschal to forego a portion to the
culprits or their children, which that loyal servitor bluntly refused. Then
the bishop, following evil counsel, and in fraud of the rights of the count,
endeavored to elude the forfeiture by condemning the heretics to some lighter
penance. The seneschal, however, knew his master's rights and seized the
property, after which he allowed some pittance to the penitents and their
children, reporting that in addition to this he was in possession of about one
thousand livres; and he winds up by advising the count, if he wishes not to be
defrauded, to appoint some one to watch and supervise the further inquisitions
of the bishop. On the other hand the bishops complained that the officials of
Alphonse permitted heretics, for a pecuniary consideration, to retain a part
or the whole of their confiscated property, or else condemned to the flames
those who did not deserve it in order to seize their estates. These frightful
abuses grew so unbearable that, in 1251, the officials of Alphonse, including
Gui Foucoix, endeavored to reform them by issuing general regulations on the
subject, but the matter was one
which
in its inherent nature scarce admitted of reform. Yet Alphonse, with all his
greed, was not unwilling to share the plunder with those who secured it for
him, and several of his not wholly disinterested liberalities of this kind are
on record. In 1268 we have a letter of his assigning to the Inquisition a
revenue of one hundred livres per annum on the confiscated estate of a heretic;
and in 1270 another, confirming the foundation of a chapel from a similar
source.
Nothing
could exceed the minute thoroughness with which every fragment of a
confiscated estate was followed up and seized. The account of the collections
of confiscated property from 1302 to 1313 by the procureurs des encours of Carcassone is extant in MS., and shows how carefully the debts due to the
condemned were looked after, even to a few pence for a measure of corn. In the
case of one wealthy prisoner, Guillem de Fenasse, the estate was not wound up
for eight or ten years, and the whole number of debts collected foots up to
eight hundred and fifty-nine, in amounts ranging from five deniers upward. As
the collectors never credit themselves with amounts paid in discharge of debts
due by these estates, it is evident that the rule that a heretic could give no
valid obhgations was strictly construed and that creditors were shamelessly
cheated. In this seizure of debts the nobles asserted a right to claim any sums
due by debtors who were their vassals, but Phlippe de Valois, in 1329,
decided that when the debts were payable at the domicile of the heretic they
inured to the royal fisc, irrespective of the allegiance of the debtor.
Another illustration of the remorseless greed which seized everything is found
in a suit decided by the Parlement of Paris in 1302. On the death of the
Chevalier Guillem Prunele and his wife Isabelle, the guardianship of their
orphans would legally vest in the next of kin, the Chevalier Bernard de
Montesquieu, but he had been burned some years before for heresy, and his
estate, of course, confiscated. The Seneschal of Carcassonne insisted that the
guardianship which thus subsequently fell in formed part of the assets of the
estate, and he accordingly assumed it, but a nephew, an Esquire Bernard de Montesquieu,
contested the matter and finally obtained a decision in his favor.
Equal
care was exercised in recovering alienated property. As, in obedience to the
Roman law of majestas, forfeiture occurred ipso facto as soon as the crime of heresy was committed, the heretic could convey no legal
title, and any assignments which he might have made were void, no matter
through how many hands the property might have passed. The holder was forced to
surrender it, nor could he demand restitution of what he had paid, unless the
money or other consideration were found among the goods of the heretic. The
eagerness with which, in such cases, the rigor of the law was enforced may be estimated
from one occurring in 1272. Charles of Anjou had written from Naples to his
viguier and sous-viguier at Marseilles telling them that a certain Maria
Roberta, before condemnation to prison for heresy, had sold a house which was
subject to confiscation; this he ordered them to seize, to sell by auction, and
to report the proceeds; but they neglected to do so. The viguiers were
changed, and now the unforgetful Charles writes to the new officials, repeating
his orders and holding them personally responsible for obedience. At the same
time he writes to his seneschal with instructions to look after the matter, as
it lies very near to his heart.
The
cruelty of the process of confiscation was enhanced by the pitiless methods
employed. As soon as a man was arrested for suspicion of heresy his property
was sequestrated and seized by the officials, to be returned to him in the rare
cases in which his guilt might be declared not proven. This rule was enforced
in the most rigorous manner, every article of his household gear and provisions
being inventoried, as well as his real estate. Thus, whether innocent or
guilty, his family were turned out-of-doors to starve or to depend upon the
precarious charity of others—a charity chilled
by the fact that any manifestation of sympathy was dangerous. It would be
difficult to estimate the amount of human misery arising from this source
alone.
In
this chaos of plunder we may readily imagine that those who were engaged in such
work were not over-nice as to securing a share of the spoliations. In 1301 Jacques de Polignac, who had been for twenty years keeper of the inquisitorial
jail at Carcassonne, and several of the officials employed on the
confiscations, were found to have converted and detained a large amount of valuable
property, including a castle, several farms and other lands, vineyards,
orchards, and movables, all of which they were compelled to disgorge and to
suffer punishment at the king's pleasure.
DISINTERESTEDNESS
OF PHILIPPE LE BON.
It is
pleasant to turn from this cruel greed to a case which excited much interest
in Flanders at a time when in that region the Inquisition had become so nearly
dormant that the usages of confiscation were almost forgotten. The Bishop of
Tournay and the Vicar of the Inquisition condemned at Lille a number of
heretics, who were duly burned. They confiscated the property, claiming the
movables for the Church and the inquisitor, and the realty for the fisc. The
magistrates of Lille boldly interposed, declaring that among the liberties of
their town was the privilege that no burgher could forfeit both body and goods;
and, acting for the children of one of the victims, they took out apostoli and appealed to
the pope. The counsellors of the suzerain, Philippe le Bon of Burgundy, with
a clearer perception of the law, claimed that the whole confiscations inured to
him, while the ecclesiastics declared the rule to be invariable that the
personalty went to the Church and only the real estate to the fisc. The
triangular quarrel threatened long and costly litigation, and finally all
parties agreed to leave the decision to the duke himself. With rare wisdom, in
1430, he settled the matter, with general consent, by deciding that the sentence
of confiscation should be treated as not rendered, and the property be left to
the heirs, at the same time expressly declaring that the rights of Church,
Inquisition, city, and state, were reserved without prejudice, in any case
that might arise in future, which was, he said, not likely to occur. He did not
manifest the same disinterestedness in 1460, however, in the terrible
persecution of the sorcerers of Arras, when the movables were confiscated to the episcopal
treasury, and he seized the landed property in spite of the privileges alleged
by the city.
ESTATES OF THE DEAD
In
addition to the misery inflicted by these wholesale confiscations on the
thousands of innocent and helpless women and children thus stripped of
everything, it would be almost impossible to exaggerate the evil which they
entailed upon all classes in the business of daily life. All safeguards were
withdrawn from every transaction. No creditor or purchaser could be sure of the
orthodoxy of him with whom he was dealing; and, even more than the principle
that ownership was forfeited as soon as heresy had been committed by the
living, the practice of proceeding against the memory of the dead after an
interval virtually unlimited, rendered it impossible for any man to feel secure
in the possession of property, whether it had descended in his family for generations,
or had been acquired within an ordinary lifetime.
The
prescription of time against the Church had to be at least forty years—against
the Roman Church, a hundred, and this prescription ran, not from the
commission of the crime, but from its detection. Though some legists held that
proceedings against the deceased had to be commenced within five years after
death, others asserted that there was no limit, and the practice of the
Inquisition shows that the latter opinion was followed. The prescription of
forty years' possession by good Catholics was further hmited by the conditions
that they must at no time have had a knowledge that the former owner was a
heretic, and, moreover, he must have died with an unsullied reputation for orthodoxy—
both points which might east a grave doubt on titles.
Prosecution
of the dead, as we have seen, was a mockery in which virtually defence was
impossible and confiscation inevitable. How unexpectedly the blow might fall
is seen in the case of Gherardo of Florence. He was rich and powerful, a member
of one of the noblest and oldest houses, and was consul of the city in 1218.
Secretly a heretic, he was hereticated on his death-bed between 1246 and 1250,
but the matter lay dormant until 1313, when Fra Grimaldo, the Inquisitor of
Florence, brought a successful prosecution against his memory. In the
condemnation were included his children Ugolino, Cante, Nerlo, and Bertuccio,
and his grandchildren, Goccia, Coppo, Fra Giovanni, Gherardo, prior of S. Quirico,
Goccino, Baldino, and Marco—not that they were heretics, but that they were
disinherited and subjected to the disabilities of descendants of heretics.
When such proceedings were hailed as preeminent exhibitions of holy zeal, no
man could feel secure in his possessions, whether derived from descent or purchase.
An
instance of a different character, but equally illustrative, is furnished by
the case of Geraud de Puy-Germer. His father had been condemned for heresy in
the times of Raymond VII of Toulouse, who generously restored the confiscated
estates. Yet, twenty years after the death of the count, in 1268, the zealous
agents of Alphonse seized them as still liable to forfeiture. Geraud thereupon
appealed to Alphonse, who ordered an investigation, but with what result does
not appear.
Not
only were all alienations made by heretics set aside and the property wrested
from the purchasers, but all debts contracted by them, and all hypothecations
and liens given to secure loans, were void. Thus doubt was cast upon every
obligation that a man could enter into. Even when St. Louis softened the rigor
of confiscation in Languedoc, the utmost concession he would make was that
creditors should be paid for debts contracted by culprits before they became
heretics, while all claims arising subsequently to an act of heresy were
rejected. As no man could be certain of the orthodoxy of another, it will be
evident how much distrust must have been thrown upon every bargain and every
sale in the commonest transactions of life. The blighting influence of this
upon the development of commerce and industry can readily be perceived, coming
as it did at a time when the commercial and industrial movement of Europe was
beginning to usher in the dawn of modern culture. It was not merely the
spiritual striving of the thirteenth century that was repressed by the
Inquisition; the progress of material improvement was seriously retarded. It
was this, among other incidents of persecution, which arrested the promising
civilization of the south of France and transferred to England and the
Netherlands, where the Inquisition was comparatively unknown, the predominance
in commerce and industry which brought freedom and wealth and power and
progress in its train.
The
quick-witted Italian commonwealths, then rising into mercantile importance,
were keen to recognize the disabilities thus inflicted upon them. In Florence a
remedy was sought by requiring the seller of real estate always to give
security against possible future sentences of confiscation by the
Inquisition—the security in general being that of a third party, although there
must have been no little difficulty in obtaining it, and though it might
likewise be invalidated at any moment by the same cause.
Even
in contracts for personalty, security was also often demanded and given. This
was, at least, only replacing one evil by another of scarcely less magnitude,
and the trouble grew so intolerable that a remedy was sought for one of its
worst features. The republic solemnly represented to Martin IV the scandals
which had occurred and the yet greater ones threatened, in consequence of the
confiscation of the real estate of heretics in the hands of bona-fide purchasers, and by a
special bull of Nov. 22,1283, the pontiff graciously ordered the Florentine
inquisitors in future not to seize such property.
EXPENSES OF THE INQUISITION
The
princes who enjoyed the results of confiscations recognized that they carried
with them the correlative duty of defraying the expenses of the Inquisition;
indeed, self-interest alone would have prompted them to maintain in a state of
the highest efficiency an instrumentahty so profitable. Theoretically, it could
not be denied that the bishops were liable for these expenses, and at first
the inquisitors of Languedoc sought to obtain funds from them, suggesting that
at least pecuniary penances inflicted for pious uses should be devoted to
paying their notaries and clerks. This was fruitless, for, as Gui Foucoix
(Clement IV) remarks, their hands were tenacious and their purses constipated,
and as it was useless to look to them for resources, he advises that the
pecuniary penances be used for the purpose, providing it be done decently and
without scandalizing the people. Throughout central and northern Italy, as we
have seen, the fines and confiscations rendered the Inquisition fully
self-supporting, and the inquisitors were eager to make business out of which
they could reap a pecuniary harvest. In Venice the State defrayed all expenses
and took all profits. In Naples the same poficy was at first pursued by the
Angevine monarchs, who took the confiscations and, in addition to maintaining
prisoners, paid to each inquisitor one augustale (one quarter ounce of gold)
per diem for the expenses of himself and his associate, his notary, and three
familiars, with their horses. These stipends were assigned upon the Naples
customs on iron, pitch, and salt; the orders for their payment ran usually for
six months at a time and had to be renewed; there was considerable delay in the
settlements, and the inquisitors had substantial cause of complaint, although
the officials were threatened with fines for lack of promptness. In 1272,
however, I find a letter issued to the inquisitor, Fra Matteo di Castellamare,
providing him with a year's salary, payable six months in advance. When, as mentioned
above, Charles II, in 1290, divided the proceeds according to the papal
prescription, he liberally continued to contribute to the expenses, though on a
somewhat reduced scale. In letters of May 16, 1294, he orders the payment to
Fra Bartolomeo di Aquila of four tareni per diem (the tareno was one thirtieth
of an ounce of gold), and July 7 of the same year he provides that five ounces
per month be paid to him for the expenses of his official family.
In
France there was at first some question as to the responsibility for the
charges attendant upon persecution. The duty of the bishops to suppress heresy
was so plain that they could not refuse to meet the expenses, at least in part.
Before the establishment of the Inquisition this consisted almost wholly in
the maintenance of imprisoned converts, and at the Council of Toulouse they
agreed to defray this in the case of those who had no money, while those who
had property to be confiscated they claimed should be supported by the princes
who obtained it. This proposition, like the subsequent one of the Council of
Albi, in 1254, was altogether too cumbrous to work. The statutes of Raymond, in
1234, while dwelling elaborately on the subject of confiscation, made no
provision for meeting the cost of the new Inquisition, and the matter remained
unsettled. In 1237 we find Gregory IX complaining that the royal officials
contributed nothing for the support of the prisoners whose property they had
confiscated. When, in 1246, the Council of Beziers was assembled, the Cardinal
Legate of Albano reminded the bishops that it was their business to provide for
it, according to the instructions of the Council of Montpellier, whose
proceedings have not reached us. The good bishops were not disposed to do this.
As we have seen, they
claimed
that prisons should be built at the expense of the recipients of the
confiscations, and suggested that the fines should be used for their
maintenance and for that of the inquisitors. The piety of St. Louis, however,
would not see the good work halt for lack of the necessary means; with a more
worldly prince we might assume that he recognized the money spent on
inquisitors as profitably invested. In 1248 we find him defraying their expenses
in all the domains of the crown, and we have shown above how he assumed the
cost of prisons and prisoners; in addition to which, in 1246, he ordered his
Seneschal of Carcassonne to pay out of the confiscations ten sols per diem to
the inquisitors for their expenses. It may fairly be presumed that Count
Raymond contributed with a gradging hand to the support of an institution
which he had opposed so long as he dared; but when he was succeeded, in 1249,
by Jeanne and Alphonse of Poitiers, the latter politic and avaricious prince
saw his account in stimulating the zeal of those to whom he owed his harvest of
confiscations. Not only did he defray the cost of the fixed tribunals, but
his seneschals had orders to pay the expenses of the inquisitors and their
familiars in their movements throughout his territories. He paid close
attention to detail. In 1268 we find Guillem de Montreuil, Inquisitor of
Toulouse, reporting to him the engagement of a notary at six deniers per diem
and of a servitor at four, and Alphonse graciously ordering the payment of
their wages. Charles of Anjou, who was equally greedy, found time amid his
Italian distractions to see that his Seneschal of Provence and Forcalquier
kept the Inquisition supplied on the same basis as did the king in the royal
dominions.
Large
as were the returns to the fisc from the industry of the Inquisition, the
inquisitors were sometimes disposed to presume upon their usefulness, and to
spend money with a freedom which
seemed unnecessary to those who paid the bills. Even in the fresh zeal of 1242
and 1214, before the princes had made provision for the Holy Office, and while
the bishops were yet zealously maintaining their claims to the fines, the
luxury and extravagance of the inquisitors called down upon them the reproof of
their own Order as expressed in the Dominican provincial chapters of Montpellier and Avignon. It would be, of course, unjust to cast such reproach upon
all inquisitors, but no doubt many deserved it, and we have seen that there
were numerous ways in which they could supply their wants, legitimate or
otherwise. It might, indeed, be a curious question to determine the source whence
Bernard de Caux, who presided over the tribunal of Toulouse until his death, in
1252, and who, as a Dominican, could have owned no property, obtained the means
which enabled him to be a great benefactor to the convent of Agen, founded in
1219. Even Alphonse of Poitiers sometimes grew tired of ministering to the
wishes of those who served him so well. In a confidential letter of 1268 he complains
of the vast expenditures of Pons de Poyet and Étienne de Gâtine, the
inquisitors of Toulouse, and instructs his agent to try to persuade them to
remove to Lavaur, where less extravagance might be hoped for. He offered to put
at their disposal the castle of Lavaur, or any other that might be fit to serve
as a prison; and at the same time he craftily wrote to them direct,
explaining that, in order to enable them to extend their operations, he would
place an enormous castle in their hands.
Some
very curious details as to the expenses of the Inquisition, thus defrayed from
the confiscations, from St. John's day, 1322, to 1323, are afforded by the
accounts of Arnaud Assalit, procureur des encours of Carcassonne and Beziers, which have
fortunately been preserved. From the sums thus coming into his hands the procureur met the outlays
of the Inquisition to the minutest item—the cost of maintaining prisoners, the
hunting up of witnesses, the tracking of fugitives, and the charges for an auto de fé, including
the banquets for the assembly of experts and the saffron-colored cloth for the
crosses of the penitents. We learn from this that
the wages of the inquisitor himself were one hundred and fifty livres per
annum, and also that they were very irregularly paid. Frère Otbert had been
appointed in Lent, 1316, and thus far had received nothing of his stipend, but
now, in consequence of a special letter from King Charles le Bel, the whole
accumulation for six years, amounting to nine hundred livres, is paid in a
lump. Although by this time persecution was slackening for lack of material, the
confiscations were still quite profitable. Assalit charges himself with two
thousand two hundred and nineteen livres seven sols ten deniers collected
during the year, while his outlays, including heavy legal expenses and the
extraordinary payment to Frère Otbert, amounted to one thousand one hundred
and sixty-eight livres eleven sols four deniers, leaving about one thousand
and fifty livres of profit to the crown.
PERSECUTION
DEPENDENT ON CONFISCATION.
Persecution,
as a steady and continuous policy, rested, after all, upon confiscation. It was
this which supplied the fuel to keep up the fires of zeal, and when it was
lacking the business of defending the faith languished lamentably. When
Catharism disappeared under the brilliant aggressiveness of Bernard Gui, the
culminating point of the Inquisition was passed, and thenceforth it steadily declined,
although still there were occasional confiscated estates over which king,
prelate, and noble quarrelled for some years to come. The Spirituals,
Dulcinists, and Fraticelli were Mendicants, who held property to be an
abomination; the Waldenses were poor folk—mountain shepherds and lowland
peasants—and the only prizes were an occasional sorcerer or usurer. Still, as
late as 1337 the office of bailli of the confiscations for heresy in Toulouse was
sufficiently lucrative to be worth purchasing under the prevailing custom of
selling all such positions, and the collections for the preceding fiscal
year amounted to six hundred and forty livres six sols. The intimate
connection between the activity of persecuting zeal and the material results to
be derived from it is well illustrated in the failure of the first attempt to extend the Inquisition into
Franche Comté. John, Count of Burgundy, in 1218, represented to Innocent IV
the alarming spread of Waldensianism throughout the province of Besançon and
begged for its repression. Apparently the zeal of Count John did not lead him
to pay for the purgation of his dominions, and the plunder to be gained was
inconsiderable, for, in 1255, Alexander IV granted the petition of the friars
to be relieved from the duty, in which they averred that they had exhausted
themselves fruitlessly for lack of money. The same lesson is taught by the
want of success which attended all attempts to establish the Inquisition in
Portugal. When, in 1376, Gregory XI ordered the Bishop of Lisbon to appoint a Franciscan inquisitor for the kingdom, recognizing apparently that
there would be small receipts from confiscations, he provided that the
incumbent should be paid a salary of two hundred gold florins per annum,
assessed upon the various sees in the proportion of their forced contributions
to the papal camera. The resistance of inertia, which rendered this command
resultless, doubtless arose from the objection of the prelates to being thus
taxed; and the same may be said of the effort of Boniface IX, when he
appointed Fray Yicente de Lisboa as Inquisitor of Spain and ordered his
expenses defrayed by the bishops.
Perhaps
the most unscrupulous attempt to provide for the maintenance of the Inquisition
was that made by the Emperor Charles lIV when, in 1369, he endeavored to
establish it in Germany on a permanent basis. Heretics were neither numerous
nor rich, and little could be gained from their confiscations to sustain the zeal
of Kerlinger and his brethren; and we shall see hereafter how the houses of the
orthodox and inoffensive Beghards and Beguines were summarily confiscated in
order to provide domiciles and prisons fqr the inquisitors, while the cities
were invited to share in the spoils in, order to enlist popular support for the
odious measure; we shall see also how it failed in consequence of the steady
repugnance of prelates and people for the Holy Office. Eymerich, writing in
Aragon, about 1375, says that the source
whence
the expenses of the Inquisition should be met is a question which has been long
debated and never settled. The most popuar view among churchmen was that the
burden should fall on the temporal princes, since they obtained the
confiscations and should accept the charge with the benefit; but in these times, he sorrowfully adds, thereare few obstinate heretics, fewer still relapsed, and scarce any rich ones, so that, as there is little to be gained, the princes are not willing to defray the expenses. Sorne other means ought to be found, but of all the devices which
have been proposed each has its insuperable objection; and he concludes by
regretting that an institution so wholesome and so necessary to Christendom
should be so badly provided.
It
was probably while Eymerich was saddened with these impalatable truths that
the question was raising itself in the most practical shape elsewhere. As late
as 1337 in the accounts of the Senechaussée of Toulouse there are expenditures
for an auto de fé and
for repairs to the buildings and prison of the Inquisition, the salaries of the
inquisitor and his officials, and the maintenance of prisoners, but the
confusion and bankruptcy entailed by the English war doubtless soon afterwards
caused this duty to be neglected. In 1375 Gregory XI persuaded King Frederic
of Sicily to allow the confiscations to inure to the benefit of the Inquisition,
so that funds might not be lacking for the prosecution of the good work. At the
same time he made a vigorous effort to exterminate the Waldenses who were
multiplying in Dauphiné. There were prisons to be built and crowds of
prisoners to be supported, and he directed that the expenses should be
defrayed by the prelates whose negligence had given opportunity for the growth
of heresy. Although he ordered this to be enforced by excommunication, it
would seem that the constipated purses of the bishops could not be relaxed, for
soon after we find the inquisitor laying claim to a share in the confiscations,
on the reasonable ground of his having no other source whence to defray the
necessary expenses of his tribunal. The royal officials insisted on keeping the
whole, and a lively contest arose, which was referred to King Charles le Sage.
The monarch dutifully conferred with the Holy See, and, in 1378, issued an Ordonnance retaining the
whole of the confiscations and
assigning
to the inquisitor a yearly stipend—the same as that paid to the tribunals of
Toulouse and Carcassonne—of one hundred and ninety livres Tournois, out of
which all the expenses of the Inquisition were to be met; with a proviso that
if the allowance was not regularly paid then the inquisitor should be at
liberty to detain a portion of the forfeitures. No doubt this agreement was
observed for a time, but it lapsed in the terrible disorders which ensued on
the insanity of Charles VI. In 1409 Alexander V left to his legate to decide
whether the Inquisitor of Dauphiné should receive three hundred gold florins a
year, to be levied on the Jews of Avignon, or ten florins a year from each of
the bishops of his extensive district, or whether the bishops should be compelled
to support him and his officials in his journeys through the country. These
precarious resources disappeared in the confusion of the civil wars and
invasion which so nearly wrecked the monarchy. In 1432, when Frère Pierre
Fabri, Inquisitor of Embrun, was summoned to attend the Council of Basle, he
excused himself on account of his preoccupation with the stubborn Waldenses,
and also on the ground of his indescribable poverty, "for never have I had
a penny from the Church of God, nor have I a stipend from any other
source.
Of
course it would be unjust to say that greed and thirst for plunder were the
impelling motives of the Inquisition, though, when complaints were made that
the fisc was defrauded of its dues by the immunity promised to those who would
come in and confess during the time of grace, and when Bernard Gui met this
objection by pointing out that these penitents were obliged to betray their
associates, and thus, in the long run, the fisc was the gainer, we see how
largely the minds of those who urged on persecution were occupied by its
proflts. We therefore are perfectly safe in asserting that but for the
gains to be made out of fines and confiscations its work would have been much
less thorough, and that it would have sunk into comparative insignificance as soon as the first frantic zeal of bigotry had exhausted itself. This
zeal might have lasted for a generation, to be followed by a period of
comparative inaction, until a fresh onslaught would have been excited by the recrudescence
of heresy. Under a succession of such spasmodic attacks Catharism might
perhaps have never been completely rooted out. By confiscation the heretics
were forced to furnish the means for their own destruction. Avarice joined
hands with fanaticism, and between them they supplied motive power for a
hundred years of fierce, unremitting, unrelenting persecution, which in the end
accomplished its main purpose.