2 the Mysteries of Popery Unveiled Aﬀective Language in John Coustos’S and Anthony Gavín’S Accounts of the Inquisition

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2 The mysteries of popery unveiled Aﬀective language in John Coustos’s and Anthony Gavín’s accounts of the inquisition

Giovanni Tarantino

Persons are not only forbid to save Hereticks; but are obliged to discover them, tho’ a father, brother, husband, or wife; and this upon pain of excommunication; of incurring a suspicion of heresy; and of being obnoxious to the rigours of the Tri- bunal in question, as fautors or abettors of Heresy. How innatural, how cruel is such an injunction!1

What must that Tribunal be, which obliges parents, not only to eraze from their minds the remembrance of their own children; to extinguish all the sensations of tenderness and aﬀection, which nature inspires for them; but even to extend their inhumanity so far, as to force them to become their accusers, and consequently the cause of the cruelties inﬂicted on them.2

For Mary was in a ﬂood of tears, but Father Joseph, who was a learned man, with great boldness and assurance, said, what, do you call yourself holy fathers of pity and compassion? I say unto you, that you are three devils on earth, fathers of all manner of mischief, barbarity and lewdness. No inquisitors were ever treated at such a rate before.3

The freemason and the inquisitor At a meeting organized by the Grand Lodge of Argentina in Buenos Aires in 1942, a previously unknown document, dated 1751, was presented by A. S. Hall- Johnson, Grand Representative of the Grand Lodge of Connecticut. The speaker claimed that it had recently been found among the papers of an old masonic family from New England. According to Hall-Johnson, the document was a detailed account of a New England mason’s visit to a London lodge in 1750. It started by describing an odd and rather inconclusive dispute that took place in the presence of the American visitor. The bone of contention was whether or not it would be ﬁtting to commission the printmaker William Hogarth to design some jewellery for the freemasons. Although he was himself a freemason, Hogarth had shown no qualms about pouring scorn on prominent masons in his etchings.4 Interestingly, the letter then made mention of what was an emblematic example of eighteenth-century anti-Catholic literature, in which the role of hero and martyr of the freedom of conscience was taken on by a Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

36 Giovanni Tarantino mason – in other words, by a representative of a secret society, reserved for men only,5 in which social and religious barriers and enmity appeared to dissolve, and where emphasis was placed on rational inquiry into natural phe- nomena, the promotion of science, a disregard for religious affiliation, the pleasure of conviviality, mutual solidarity, and a benevolent, charitable attitude towards the needy. In fact, the letter describes the initiation of a new affiliate to the London lodge, a sea captain dressed in a blue coat with large silver buttons. After the Ancient Charges had been read out to him, he was invested with a white apron and gloves, and presented with a book called The Sufferings of John Coustos. A diamond cutter by trade, John (or Jean) Coustos had been detained by the Inquisition in Portugal about eight years previously for non-observance of the papal bull on freemasonry.6 The lodge master, so the letter said, recom- mended that the new brother should emulate the constancy of Bro. Coustos and remain loyal to his obligation. I should now warn the reader – as Hall-Johnson must also have done in his presentation, aimed to captivate, not to bamboozle his audience – that the document is not authentic, but a fake produced by Hall-Johnson himself and made somewhat plausible by close examination of eighteenth-century sources and specialist studies cited in the footnotes.7 The plausibility of the letter, though, is evidence of the continuing popularity, in masonic circles, of the steadfastness shown by John Coustos before the Inquisition.8 John Coustos was born sometime around 1703 in Berne, Switzerland, the son of a physician named Isaac Coustos, a Huguenot exile from Guienne, France, and his wife, Marie Roman. His grandfather had been a Huguenot preacher, possibly with Jewish ancestors.9 After leaving Switzerland, the family spent time in Milan, The Hague, Leiden, and Rotterdam, before finally moving to London in 1716, where Isaac and his son became naturalized citizens. John trained to be a stone cutter and set up as a jeweller and dealer in precious stones. He married Alice Barbu, born in London but of French descent, and the couple had four children.10 Coustos was initiated as a freemason in 1730 during a lodge meeting at the Rainbow Coffee House (later Britannic Lodge), a well-known haunt of French intellectuals who came to London, generally via Holland, after the edict of Nantes had been revoked in 1685, and for prominent English freethinkers such as John Toland and Anthony Collins. In the same year, Coustos was one of the founders of a lodge meeting at Prince Eugene Head’scoffee house in St Alban’s Street.11 In 1735, he moved to Paris to work as a cutter of precious stones in the Louvre Palace galleries. In the French capital, he served as worshipful master of the lodge later known as Coustos-Villeroy.12 Five years later, in 1740, Coustos moved to Lisbon, attracted by the prospect of securing permis- sion to go to Brazil, where diamonds had been discovered in 1729. Although the Portuguese authorities turned down his request, he decided to stay on in Lisbon, where he established a lodge and was elected worshipful master. In 1738, however, Pope Clement XII had issued his bull In eminenti apostolatus condemning freemasonry on two grounds: its religious toleration, and its oath Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 37 of secrecy, both of which were considered oﬀensive. Evidently, freemasonry was perceived as a form of sociability that allowed unacceptable emotional ties with the ‘wrong’ sort of people. So as soon as a woman disclosed Coustos’s masonic aﬃliation in the confessional, he was arrested on the grounds that masonic lodges superseded confessional and social barriers, and on 14 March 1743 he was handed over to the Inquisition:

Afterwards calling to my mind, that grief would only aggravate my calamity, I endeavoured to arm my soul with patience; and to habituate myself, as well as I could, to woe. Accordingly I rouz’d my spirits; and banishing for a few moments, these dreadfully-mournful ideas, I began to reflect ser- iously, on the methods how to extricate myself from this labyrinth of horrors. My consciousness that I had not committed any crime which could justly merit death, would now and then soften my pangs; but immediately after, dreadful thoughts overspread my mind. … I consider’d that, being a Pro- testant, I should inevitably feel, in its utmost rigours, all that rage and barbarous zeal could infuse in the breast of monks; who cruelly gloried, in committing to the flames great numbers of ill-fated victims, whose only crime was their differing from them in religious opinions.13

‘Monks’ were thus effectively depicted as bonding emotionally through the act of inflicting torture and as embodying a distinguished form of sociability based on hierarchy, fear, and forced inclusivity. Protestant readers, generally accus- tomed, admittedly with innumerable contradictions, to putting the dictates of conscience before dogmatic ‘uniformity’, must have been alarmed at the thought of being exposed to the Catholic threat of an annihilation which, if not yet physical, was psychological and cultural. Coustos reported that he was tortured nine times in the space of two months, and was repeatedly told that if he died in the torture chamber the fault would be his alone (‘guilty, by my obstinacy, of self-murder’).14 Despite everything, he refused to disclose the secrets of the craft, and was sentenced to four years in the galley (not a ship, as the name suggests, but a kind of riverside workhouse). In the auto-da-fé into which he walked on 21 June 1744, eight prisoners were sentenced to execution by burning. For the others, not being given the same sentence made this moment a space for shared feelings of unexpected relief: ‘We thought ourselves the happiest persons upon the earth, tho’ we had little to boast of. However, we were now together, and breath’d the fresh air; we enjoy’d the light of the sky, and had a view of a garden: in a word we knew that we should not be put to a death; all which circumstances prov’d a great consolation.’15 Moreover, Coustos was a British subject, which prompted the British Min- ister in Lisbon to intervene, and in October 1744 he was freed on condition that he left Portugal. After arriving back in England on 15 December, he wrote, possibly in French, an account of his captivity. Entitled The Sufferings of John Coustos for Freemasonry and for His Refusing to Turn Roman Catholic, in the Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

38 Giovanni Tarantino Inquisition at Lisbon, it was published in an English translation in 1746, the year in which he died, aged forty-three. Coustos’s memoirs were reprinted on countless occasions, often together with other exemplary stories of masonic martyrs, thus embodying a common space of feeling for the freemasons, who felt increasingly threatened by the hostility and mistrust of the Roman Church. The original illustrations, in themselves fairly detailed and horrific, were sometimes made even more graphic to enhance the emotional impact on new adepts.16 In Barbara Rosenwein’s highly stimulating account of ‘emotional communities’, space is given to groups moulded and brought together by the act of engaging with texts and interpreting them together. Rosenwein explicitly acknowledges that a ‘textual community’,as defined by Brian Stock in Implications of Literacy (1983), ‘may sometimes be the nucleus of an “emotional community”’.17 At masonic gatherings, both the text and the images of Coustos’s memoirs would undoubtedly have been instru- ments of sociability as much as they were carriers of emotional bondage. However, this emotionally charged representation of Catholic ferocity won a sympathic audience stretching far beyond masonic circles in a London still shaken by the echoes of the second Jacobite insurrection of 1745, and sub- merged by a flood of shrilly anti-Romanist propaganda texts, all duly trum- peted in the city’s journals. Moreover, the emotional resonance of this short illustrated text – sometimes published together with A Master-Key to Popery by Anthony Gavín – was further extended by its recrossing of the Channel, where it was read with interest by emotionally like-minded people, who were conscious, out of direct experience, of the condition of marginalized, exiled, or displaced subjects and communities, and who were themselves involved, in different contexts, in the debate on religious toleration and freedom of conscience.

Feeling protestant The vicissitudes of John Coustos’s life, and even the proceedings of his trial, have been carefully pieced together and examined by the more authoritative and less adulatory kind of masonic historiography. Curiously, one important question regarding the publishing history of his sensational memoirs has not received due attention; that is, who prepared them for the press in the immediate aftermath of the second Jacobite rebellion, and circulated them beyond masonic circles? The question, already interesting in its own right, is even more pertinent to the themes of this volume, in that the answer would permit clear identiﬁcation of the targeted audiences of Coustos’s report, the emotions it was intended to stir, and the militant kind of sociability it sought to foster. As far as the ﬁrst English edition is concerned, the name of the editor appears in a brief note in the Bibliothèque raisonnée des ouvrages des savans de l’Europe, the literary periodical published in Amsterdam between 1728 and 1753. The stated aim of this periodical was to publicly criticize, under the guise of anonymity, Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 39 ‘intolerant rulers and religious zealots’.18 In December 1745, the Bibliothèque raisonnée reported, among the Nouvelles litteraires de Londres, the publication of the memoirs of the ‘first martyr of freemasonry’, edited by ‘monsieur Lock- man’. The use of the word ‘martyr’, a religious term, certainly reflected, and helped to reinforce, a shared culture of feeling that led the authors of the journal and also its readers to hail all victims of Catholic violence as heroes and comrades. The name of John Lockman, a close friend of Hogarth, will be familiar to anyone who has perused Voltaire’s celebrated Letters Concerning the English Nation (1733), or consulted The General Dictionary, Historical and Critical (1734–41), or looked through the first partial English edition of the Ceremonies et coutumes religieuses de tout le peuples du monde (1731), the fascinating comparative work illustrated by Bernard Picart, the famous printmaker who abandoned French Catholicism and was very active in Dutch masonic circles.19 While he was preparing Coustos’s memoirs for the press, Lockman was also working on A History of the Cruel Sufferings of the Protestants, and Others, by Popish Persecutions. This compilation was openly anti-Jacobite and anti-Catholic in spirit, though at times it also seemed to veer towards a more wide-ranging critique of religion, like the one advanced by the Huguenot sceptic Pierre Bayle, whose name is widely and sympathetically quoted in both of Lockman’s works.20 Very significantly, there is a substantive overlap between certain passages in The Sufferings of John Coustos and others in the History of the Cruel Sufferings of the Protestants; these exposed the tacit approval of the ruthless mas- sacre of the Waldensians of Calabria in 1651 by Catholic intellectuals like the Neapolitan Tommaso Costo, who had deplored the apparent impassiveness of the Waldensian fathers in the face of the brutal slaughter of their children.21 Clearly, then, the representation of Coustos’s ‘martyrdom’–stoical, calm, and passive – was in line with the consolidated affective model of Protestant mar- tyrologies. His unshaken fidelity to his beliefs, to the secrets of the craft, and to his ‘brothers’ was seen as a shining example for new initiates into freemasonry, though not entirely borne out by the trial proceedings: during the very first session and with little prompting, he gave a full account of what masonry was and what it did; however, the Inquisition did not believe him.22 Lockman’s preface to the English edition of Coustos’s memoirs,23 and their divulgation in circles close to the editors of the Bibliothèque raisonnée, thus seems to reveal a conviction that the colourful narration of the contrast between the firmness of Coustos and the ferocity of his examiners, barely dissimulated by the legalism of inquisitorial procedures, would serve two ends. On the one hand, it would contribute to the anti-Jacobite cause by playing on the deep- seated fears and inherent xenophobia of the English mobs (it is no accident that the adjective most commonly applied to Catholics was ‘outlandish’), and on the other to the promotion – among like-minded intellectual elites across Europe – of a new religious vision, syncretistic and cosmopolitan, where greater emphasis was placed on morality than on ritual practice, and which opposed the terror of the fathers with the benevolence of the brothers. Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

40 Giovanni Tarantino Beyond the Protestant-Catholic divide The small group of intellectual men who wrote for the Bibliothèque raisonnée, the Amsterdam-based French-language quarterly, it has to be said, largely expressed the world of the Huguenot Refuge. Jean Barbeyrac, Armand de La Chapelle, and Pierre Des Maizeaux, the three chief journalists, were all born in France, having their roots in a ‘liberal’ Protestantism that stressed reason over tradition and presented tolerance as one of the fundamental and most authentic values of the Reformation.24 But the goals of the Bibliothèque raisonnée trans- cended merely interconfessional polemic, and included, for instance, a com- mitment to pursuing a rigorous philological study of the scriptures (their support for the bold and ultimately doomed project to publish Johan Jacob Wetstein’s new edition of the New Testament is just one telling example). As was often the case in eighteenth-century journals, the Bibliothèque raisonnée consisted for the most part of review articles of recently published books. Articles about translated works represent about a tenth of the total number.25 The promotion of publications in vernacular languages also suggests a com- mitment to reaching people who were literate but did not read Latin, giving less-educated men, but also women, access to the latest scientific and philoso- phical ideas;26 this permitted the forming of a broad sociability generally distinguished by cosmopolitan universalism, tolerance for otherness, and empathy towards the victims of religious persecution.27 Among the editors of the Bibliothèque raisonnée, the name of Jean Rousset de Missy (1686–1762) is particularly worthy of mention.28 A prolific Huguenot journalist who helped to establish organized Dutch freemasonry, his first publication had been a French translation of Collins’s Discourse of Freethinking (1714). He also played a significant role in the collaborative reworking and printing, in 1719, of the notorious Traité des trois imposteurs. Rousset’s father had been imprisoned for his Protestantism, and Rousset himself was to remain a virulent and implacable opponent of absolutism throughout his life, as is borne out by his revolutionary position and activities during the 1747 upheavals in The Netherlands. In his writings, he advocated a mixture of pantheism and reformist politics, and was a fervent supporter of European freemasonry. Highly suggestive is Margaret Jacob’s conjecture that the acronym ‘L.T.V.I.L.R.D.M.’ of the editor of the French version (probably the original one) of Coustos’s memoirs conceals his name ‘R.D.M.’.29 Above all, the authors of the Bibliothèque raisonnée seem to have taken to heart the lesson of Bayle, who identified the sources of every heresy in the motives of the most powerful. Persuaded that intolerance was not exclusive to Catholicism and that toleration tended to be preached by Christian sects in any country where they were in need of it, and intolerance in those in which they dominated, Bayle had gradually cast aside the guise of the Protestant con- troversialist. In his view, Protestantism was no longer home to the oppressed and persecuted, suffering at the hands of an unjust power. The persecuted had turned into the persecutor.30 Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 41 An effective rendering of the long and bitter clash between Bayle and his fellow Huguenot refugee and former mentor, the millenarian theologian Pierre Jurieu, can be found in a fictional piece written by the Scottish-born freethinker Thomas Gordon, himself a loyal admirer of Bayle. In it, Jurieu is depicted as ‘a man of great vanity, and violent passion’, who submitted an angry, admon- ishing plea to the magistrates of Rotterdam ‘to silence Mr Bayle [for being] an advocate for atheism’. Unsurprisingly, Gordon identified with the burgomaster sympathetic to the incriminated philosopher, and said:

Sure you will not desire me to help to tie Mr Bayle’s hands till you give him the Strapado: … a ﬁne employment for magistrates, to exercise the whip and the sword for the clergy. … We have learned [not] to sacriﬁce the peace of our government, or any man’s peace, to the passions or the maggots of the clergy. … I have a great kindness for you, but a greater for the State: we cannot violate our best maxims, because you are angry at Mr Bayle.31

Irony, satire, and sharp wit could undoubtedly in part soothe the emotive imbalance caused by the fury of the intolerant.32 It is by no means insignificant that the proto-masonic coterie of Protestant refugees and émigrés (Rousset, Picart, Marchand, for instance) who took pains to promote the publication, in 1720, of a new edition of Bayle’s Dictionnaire were called the Knights of Jubi- lation and that they happily indulged in merrymaking during their meetings.33 Above all, after the terror of the persecution, the anxiety of dissimulation, the difficulties of exile, and of integration into the host communities, the masonic brotherhood seemed to offer many European, male exiles from Catholic oppression the opportunity to view the human condition with benevolence, good cheer, and some measure of trust. It is certainly significant, in this regard, that the fourth volume of Picart’s Ceremonies included, in a long footnote, a detailed account of early British masonic history, accompanied by a double plate engraving depicting a list of lodges; before it is a table in the form of a square, surrounded by eleven freemasons who are reading and conversing. It would seem, then, that radical fringes of the Huguenot Refuge regarded freemasonry as a new form of religion.34 In a long note from the section in Picart’s Ceremonies devoted to Chinese rites, Bernard describes the publication, in a French translation dated 1709, of a short treatise by the Jesuit Tommaso Ceva that had originally been published in Italian.35 The treatise employs the device of estrangement in a fictitious apol- ogue regarding the European travels of a Chinese mandarin, who is bewildered and nonplussed by the pagan ceremonies he sees being performed in the Catholic Church. The note accompanies an interesting passage in the text, where Bernard notes that:

All religions whatever have some particulars wherein they resemble one another; for which reason some persons of a very extensive charity have ventured to establish a project for an universal reconciliation. … A glorious Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

42 Giovanni Tarantino undertaking this is indeed, to pretend to convince people, though never so obstinate and perverse in their tempers, that by the help of brotherly love all mankind shall become true brothers to each other.36

This ‘masonic-style note’ seems to express a hope for an inclusive society in which cultural diﬀerences might co-exist peacefully by virtue of a reciprocal and charitable recognition of the limits of human knowledge.

The afterlife of Coustos’s memoirs John Lockman also put Coustos’s dramatic memoirs together with a much longer compilation of well-known treatises denouncing the violent practices of the Inquisition, drawing in particular on Limborch, Bayle, and La Croze. Both texts found their way, in 1820 and 1821, into a collective volume published in Connecticut entitled The Mysteries of Popery Unveiled,37 together with portions from the highly popular A Master-Key to Popery, an emotionally charged work by Anthony (Antonio) Gavín (1689–1750), first published in Dublin in 1724 and reprinted several times, and translated into French, German, and Dutch. The obscure compiler of the volume – too much of a pruner, as we shall see – prefaced it by saying that: ‘A work of this nature, well authenticated, must be considered extremely interesting: but for the honour of humanity, it is hoped there may never be occasion to draw the pen in the same field.’ In the Master-Key, deferentially addressed to his new comrades in the Anglican communion, Gavín had related his eventful life as a restless Spanish Catholic priest. Ordained by the Archbishop of Saragossa thirteen months before he turned twenty-three, he very quickly received a licence to hear confessions, despite canon law. However, he incurred the enmity of the Catholic Church and was forced, shortly before the signing of the Treaty of Utrecht, to flee adventurously to England (through France and Portugal) disguised as an army officer. There, he was accepted into the ranks of the Anglican clergy and licensed (by John Robinson, Bishop of London, to whom he had made his recantation) to preach to a Spanish congregation in London. In late 1718, he signed on as chaplain to the royal ship Preston. When the ship was decommis- sioned, he moved to Ireland where he served as the curate of a parish near Cork for almost a year (sometimes preaching at Cork, Gortroe, and Shandon) and wrote his best-seller. Then he served as a regimental chaplain in Gibraltar. Finally, in 1735, with the blessing of Bishop Edmund Gibson, he sailed to Virginia to work as a missionary and to conduct pastoral activities among set- tlements of Huguenot refugees and in the frontier parish of St James, in Goochland County. His relationship with the parishioners of St James was not easy, possibly because of his critical views on slavery in a region increasingly dependent on enslaved Africans for the labour-intensive cultivation of the lucrative tobacco crop.38 The popularity of Gavín’s work, which also included a fair description of Catholic beliefs, devotional acts, and rituals (but also a meticulous report of Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 43 sumptuous furnishings and trappings, of the trafficking in indulgences and remembrance masses), was due above all to its detailed accounts of the confessions of ‘sinful thoughts, words, action, nay, [their] very dreams’39 of young women, and sometimes nuns, ensnared or stirred by the temptations of the flesh and not infrequently seduced, raped, and impregnated by ordained men.40 Gavín’s discussion of priestly sexual solicitation and molestation aimed to illus- trate not only the lewdness of confessors but also the way in which they built up an excessive emotional closeness with female penitents, thus coming to exercise undue influence over their families.41 At least three episodes, among many, require consideration, both because they dwell with a vivid narrative on the experienced – or violated – feelings of the people involved in the delicate situations described; and because they reveal, at one and the same time, Gavín’s indignation over the turpitude of the Catholic clergy (which, more than doctrinal divergences, led to his conversion to Protestantism42), but also a certain indulgence – which, paradoxically, matured as a result of his experience as a diligent Catholic confessor – towards human weaknesses. In his ideal vision of priesthood,43 it was necessary to accept and guide such weaknesses, and not subject them to the venality and lasciviousness of unworthy priests, abbesses, or self-appointed saints.44 The first episode, deleted from the collective volume including the memoirs of Coustos, refers to a fortuitous encounter in Lisbon between Gavín, still disguised as an army officer, and a Spanish gentleman called González. The two of them had occasion to converse on the unlimited authority of the pope. González recounted that he had been a direct witness and indeed a beneficiary of it. Despite the initial opposition of his bishop, he had received papal dis- pensation to marry his sister, with whom he was hopelessly in love – an illicit love which, for years, spent in voluntary exile in Rome at the court of a cardinal, he had sought in vain to quell: ‘All this while, I was so raving and in so deep a melancholy, that his Eminence prest upon me to tell him the reason. … At last I told him the love I had for my sister, and that it being impossible she should be my wife, my distemper had no remedy.’45 Gavín certainly wishes to stigmatize how the pope presumes to dispose of, at his pleasure, the laws of God and of man. And yet his account of the confidences of González – framed in such an ‘unmanly’ emotional language – reveals an enduring casuistical temper, an unexpected empathy, a kind of fascination with the eruption of a feeling and the tortured decision to fight it, until the pope, incited by the cardinal, nullifies the intangibility of ‘a natural and divine impediment’:

I was not twenty years of age, when my father and mother died, both within the space of six months … recommending to me in their testament to take care of my sister Dorothea and to provide for her. She was the only sister I had, and at that time in the eighteenth year of her age. … This tender brotherly love produced in my heart at last another sort of love for her; and tho’ I never shewed her my passion, I was a suﬀerer by it. I was ashamed within myself, to see that I could not master, nor overcome this Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

44 Giovanni Tarantino irregular inclination; and perceiving that the persisting in it, would prove the ruin of my soul, and of my sister’s too, I firmly resolved to quit the country for a while, to see, whether I could dissipate this passion, and banish out of my heart this burning and consuming fire of love. … The Pope [as soon as he] was told it … flying into an uncommon passion, said, the Pope may do everything, I do dispense with it. … so I was married by the Bishop and at the present time I have five children by my wife and sister.46

Gavín seems to wish to contrast the purported innocence of González’s senti- ment – because that is how it appears, at least as long as it remains within the confines of the man’s inner being – with the haughty arrogance of a Church incapable of relating to and understanding that inner torment, and also visibly heedless of the emotional repercussions on the other protagonists.47 A second significant episode, also drawn from the original version of the Master-Key to Popery, more specifically from the fourth section on the struc- tures, practices, and mistaken ideas of the Saragossa Inquisition (another section removed from the heavily pruned 1820 edition), relates to a trial for sodomy. José Peralta, a monk belonging to the Order of St Jerome and the organist of his monastery, was accused of having had homosexual relations with a young adept. What Gavín is anxious to denounce is not the sinful practice so much as the fact that it took place within the confines of a monastery and in an unequal relationship with a young boy at the mercy of an adult to whom he had been entrusted for his education. What is more, the tribunal, out of corporative obsequiousness to the Order of St Jerome, was content to sentence the monk to a year’s confinement in his monastery. On the other hand, the poor boy, though a victim, received the humiliating punishment of having to walk through the city wearing a coroza, a kind of feathered cowl, as a sign of his guilt, and of receiving five whip lashes at each corner of the city: ‘The boy was but fourteen years of age, under the power of Fr. Joseph, and he was charged with the penalty and punishment Fr. Joseph did deserve. The poor boy was whipt according to sentence, and died the next day.’48 The representation of the boy’s tragic end, no different from the fate of Coustos, also a helpless victim in the hands of his torturers, certainly helped to consolidate among readers a proud feeling of belonging to a different sort of sociability in which personal responsibility prevailed over the honour of groups, of families, and certainly of monasteries. The third episode, also from section four of the Master-Key, introduces the disturbing description of a harem of young women taken away from their families under false pretexts by emissaries of the Inquisition, deprived of their freedom, and finally forced to submit to the sexual demands of the inquisitors.49 The story, probably imaginary but of certain and lasting impact, so much so that it was cannibalized in a historic novella by the Spanish novelist and writer Ramón José Sender,50 is presented as the first-hand testimony of Madame Faulcaut, whom Gavín met in Rochefort in France, and who by then Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 45 was the wife of one of the French oﬃcers who had freed sixty members of the harem. The dramatic story of her arrest, motivated purely by the lustfulness of an inquisitor, Don Francisco Torrejón, who had not long earlier noted her attractive features at a social occasion, testiﬁes to the horrendously divisive impact of the Spanish Inquisition on the lives of families, inducing a father to immediately doubt the integrity and orthodoxy of his daughter and to hand her over, albeit in tears, to her tormentors:

Indeed he [Don Francisco] did remember me, for the very night following, when we were in bed, [I heard] a hard knocking at the door, …’The holy Inquisition’ [they yelled out]. I could not forbear crying out: Father, father, I am ruined for ever. My dear father got up … and went himself, as another Abraham, to open the door, and to offer his dear daughter to the fire of the Inquisitors, and as I did not cease to cry out, as if I was a mad girl, my dear father, all in tears, did put in my mouth a bit of a bridle, to show his obedience to the holy office, and his zeal for the Catholic faith, for he thought I had committed some crime against religion.51

Taken to the sumptuous quarters of the inquisitors, she was met, surprisingly, by another woman, named María. A profoundly corrupted character, a cross between a governess and a maîtresse, María groomed the girls for their first meeting with one or other of the inquisitors, persuading them, first with pro- mises of fine food and luxurious clothes, then with threats of being quartered and burnt alive, to passively satisfy every desire of her illustrious host: ‘I had not the liberty to make any excuse, so by extinguishing the fire of his passions, I was free from the gradual fire and dry pan, which was all that troubled my mind.’52 Once again, Gavín’s account graphically contrasts the inexcusable guile and deceitfulness of the Catholic clergy, and of the woman who had become party to the emotional manipulation of the girls, with the lamentable vulnerability of the latter both to the blandishments of rare comforts and the terror of an indescribably painful death (with the representation of the girls being a further portrayal of women, capable of feeding the usual gender stereotypes).

But the third morning, after drinking chocolate in bed, as the custom was for Don Francisco and me, Mary told, that a lady was waiting for me in the other room, and desired me to get up, with a haughty look, and Don Francisco saying nothing. I then got up and left him in bed. I thought that it was to give me some new comfort and diversion; but I was very much mistaken. … I fancied myself out of grief, and I perceive now the begin- ning of my vexation. … My new companion seeing me like a mad woman, took me by the hands, and said to me, dear sister (for this is the name I will give you henceforth) leave off your crying. … You suffer nothing that we have not suffered before you: but we are not allowed to Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

46 Giovanni Tarantino show our grief, for fear of greater evils: Pray take good courage, and hope in God.53

Gavín’s characterization of María ﬁt in with well-established topoi. Indeed deceit and blandishment crop up frequently in Protestant representations of the emotional strategies and investigative ploys of the Catholic inquisitors, depicted as being very adroit in exploiting the condition of prostration and psychological vulnerability induced in prisoners by detention, isolation, and torture.54 Once again, the resort to a well-established narrative scheme was intended to give fresh vigour to, or perhaps to mould, the conviction of belonging to a shared space of feeling.

Conclusion Clearly, both Gavín’s and Coustos’s popular reports of real and imagined Roman Catholic abusive practices helped to define notions of British Protestant identity and community. As Linda Colley has effectively stated, ‘Britishness was superimposed over an array of internal differences in response to contact with the Other, and above all in response to conflict with the Other.’55 The detailed depiction of the sexualized sociability of the Catholics specifically contributed to distinguishing a less emotional Protestant community with which readers could identify:

Here [in the English-controlled Kingdom of Ireland] none are afraid of being hurried out of their houses, to loathsome dungeons and horrible deaths, without any reasons given to themselves or any body else: here gentlemen are under no uneasy apprehensions of having the sanctity of their nuptial beds violated by the secret intrigues, or their children reduced to poverty by the rapacious avarice of proﬂigate men; here the innocent virgins may contentedly enjoy themselves, without fear of being drawn by the sanctiﬁed outside of debauched hypocrites, into dishonour in this world; and endless misery in the next.56

Somewhat paradoxically, the distinction from an ‘Other’, and the severe censure of its religious practices, also provided space for new forms of feeling to emerge, such as a charitable and ‘brotherly’ recognition of the inescapable shortcomings of human knowledge, and a more indulgent consideration of the unfathomable reasons of the heart, not to mention the outlining of a desirable type of aﬀectionate family where feeling prevailed over calculation and the external strictures of convention and religion:

What kind of community must that be, whence gratitude, love, and a mutual forbearance with regard to human frailties, are banish’d! … What idea ought we to form to ourselves of a Tribunal, which obliged children, Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 47 not only to stiﬂe every soft impulse to gratitude, love, and respect due to those who gave them birth; but even forces them, upon the most rigoroos penalties, to be spies over their parents; and to discover to the merciless Inquisition, the crimes, the errors, and even the little lapses to which human frailty so often urges. … What disorder and confusion must such a conduct give rise to, in a tenderly-loving family!57

Notes 1 The Sufferings of John Coustos for Freemasonry and for His Refusing to Turn Roman Catholic in the Inquisition at Lisbon (London: Printed by W. Strahan for the Author, 1746), 162. 2 Sufferings of John Coustos, 173. 3 Antonio Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery (Dublin: Printed by George Grierson, 1724), 270. 4 It has been convincingly argued by Bernd Krysmanski (‘Lust in Hogarth’s Sleeping Congregation – Or, How to Waste Time in Post-Puritan England’, Art History 21 (1998): 393–408, at 398) that one of the etchings mentioned in that heated discussion, The Sleeping Congregation (1736) – which came under fire for the discernible likeness between its tedious and decrepit preacher and John Theophilus Desaguliers, a Huguenot émigré and distinguished freemason – was chiefly intended to suggest the absence, or possibly the exclusion, of God from the Christian congregations (even the word Dieu is obscured in the motto at the lion’s feet: we can only read ‘…et mon droit’). See also Bernd Krysmanski, ‘We See a Ghost: Hogarth’s Satire on Methodists and Connoisseurs’, Art Bulletin 80 (1998): 292–310. 5 Sufferings of John Coustos, 34: ‘The reason why women were excluded [from] this Society, was, to take away all occasion from calumny and reproach, which would have been unavoidable, had they been admitted into it. Farther, that since women had in general, been always consider’d, as not very well qualified to keep a secret; the founders of the Society of Free-Masons, by their exclusion of the other sex, thereby gave a signal proof of their prudence and wisdom.’ In actual fact, the heads of the inquisitional indictment against Coustos (mainly based on his persistent assertion that ‘Free-Masonry was good in itself’) said the ‘Sect of Free-Masons’ was ‘a horrid compound of sacrilege, sodomy, and many other abominable crimes; of which the inviolable secrecy observ’d therein, and the exclusion of women, were but too manifest indications’. By the late eighteenth century, with the development of the French loges d’adoption, women were increasingly admitted into the work of the lodges. 6 The Papal Bull, In eminenti apostolatus specula, was issued by Pope Clement XII on 28 April 1738. In it, Catholics were banned from becoming freemasons. 7 A copy of the document is held in London, Library and Museum of Freemasonry, BE 750 JOH. 8 See also the entry ‘Persecutions’,inAlbertG.Mackey,Lexicon of Freemasonry (Charleston, 1845), 246–49 [tho in the (London, 1860) edition]; and Louis L. Williams, ‘Persecuted by the Inquisition: How John Coustos Suffered’, The Northern Light: A Window For Freemasonry 10, no. 4 (1979): 4–6, 16. 9 See John F. Shaftesley, ‘Jews in English Freemasonry in the 18th and 19th Centuries’, Ars Quatuor Coronatorum (hereafter AQC) 92 (1979): 25–63; Wallace E. McLeod, ‘More Light of John Coustos’, AQC 95 (1982): 117–19. 10 Lisbon, National Archives of Torre do Tombo, IL, proc. 10115; S. Vatcher, ‘John Coustos and the Portuguese Inquisition’, AQC 81 (1968): 9–87; José Antonio Ferrer Benimeli, Masonería, Iglesia e Ilustración, 4 vols (Madrid: Fundación Universitaria Española, 1976–77), 2:133–94, together with Appendices, 41–46; Wallace E. McLeod, Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

48 Giovanni Tarantino ‘Introduction’,inSufferings of John Coustos (London, 1746; facs. edn Bloomington: Masonic Book Club, 1979), 1–74; Giuseppe Marcocci and José Pedro Paiva, História da Inquisição Portuguesa (1536–1821) (Lisbon: A Esfera dos Livros, 2013), 299–300. 11 Margaret C. Jacob, The Radical Enlightenment: Pantheists, Freemasons and Republicans (1981; Lafayette: Cornerstone, 2006), 101; Margaret D. Thomas, ‘Michel de la Roche: A Huguenot Critic of Calvin’, Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth Century 238 (1985): 97–195. Nine years later, it took the name of the Union French Lodge. One of its members was the French-born Huguenot journalist Michel de la Roche, a pioneer of the literary review genre in England, a stalwart supporter of toleration and freedom of thought, and an outspoken critic of Calvin. 12 See Pierre Chevallier, Les ducs sous l’acacia, ou, les premiers pas de la franc-maçonnerie Française 1725–1743 (Paris: Vrin, 1968; Geneva: Slatkine, 1994), ch. 3; Wallace E. McLeod, ‘John Coustos: His Lodges and His Book’, AQC 92 (1979): 113–47. 13 Sufferings of John Coustos,20–21. 14 Sufferings of John Coustos, 63; for a reproduction of one of the four engravings by Louis- Philippe Boitard (fl. 1733–67) in Sufferings of John Coustos depicting the inquisitor, the scribe, and the physician attending Coustos’s torture sessions, see Timothy Walker, ‘Physicians and Surgeons in the Service of the Inquisition: The Nexus of Religion and Conventional Medical Training in Enlightenment-Era Portugal’,inMedicine and Reli- gion in Enlightenment Europe, eds Ole Peter Grell and Andrew Cunningham (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), 29–48, at 41. 15 Sufferings of John Coustos, 226–27. See also Robert Warren Anderson, ‘Inquisitorial Punishments in Lisbon and Évora’, e-JournalofPortugueseHistory10, no. 1 (2012): 19–36. 16 See, for example, the frontispiece depicting Coustos kneeling in chains in front of the inquisitor in The Mysteries of Popery Unveiled. In 1980, the Scottish Rite Masonic Museum and Library (Lexington) acquired a scrimshaw whale tooth with masonic symbols (1800s) at a Cape Cod auction (Special Acquisitions Fund, 80.40.1). On the front side, there is a bust portrait of a male figure in an oval surrounded by glory rays. Under it are various masonic symbols, including a mosaic pavement, two columns, a Bible, a beehive, square, compasses on top of a stylized altar, and some stars. On the rear side are the remains of a scratched name, believed to be that of John Coustos. 17 Barbara H. Rosenwein, ‘Problems and Methods in the History of Emotions’, Passions in Context: Journal of the History and Philosophy of the Emotions 1 (2010): 1–33, at 11–12. 18 Petter Korkman, ‘Conscience and Police in the Bibliothèque raisonnée des savans de l’Europe’,inBoundaries in the Eighteenth Century, ed. Pasi Ihalainen, International Review of Eighteenth-Century Studies 1 (2007): 19–35, at 22: ‘Anonymity allowed the journalists to be impartial and not to let their reasoning be corrupted by fear of retribution from orthodoxy, be it Protestant or Catholic.’ 19 See David J. A. Clines, ‘In Search of the Indian Job’, Vetus Testamentum 33 (1983): 398–418, at 401; J. Patrick Lee, ‘The Unexamined Premise: Voltaire, John Lockman and the Myth of the English Letters’, Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth Century 10 (2001): 240–70, at 245, 248. Further evidence suggesting that Lockman was the editor (and possibly also the translator) of Coustos’s memoirs is the fact that Sufferings of John Coustos was printed by William Strahan, the printer of the majority of Lockman’s poems. See Robert Dale Harlan, ‘William Strahan: Eighteenth-Century London Printer and Publisher’ (unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Michigan, 1960), 36. 20 John Lockman, A History of the Cruel Sufferings of the Protestants, and Others, by Popish Persecutions, in Various Countries (1760; Dublin: J. Potts, 1763); see also Giovanni Tarantino, ‘A “Protestant” Approach to Colonization as Envisaged in John Lockman’s Protestant Martyrology (1760)’,inViolence and Emotions in Early Modern Europe, eds Susan Broomhall and Sarah Finn (Houndmills: Palgrave, forthcoming). 21 Su fferings of John Coustos, 351: ‘T. Costo’s words are these: “Some had their throats cut, others were saw’d in two, and others again were hurl’d from precipices: in fine, all of Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 49 them were cruelly put to death, but they deserved it. Nothing could be more amazing than to see and hear their obstinacy. A father wou’d behold, without the least concern, his son massacred, and a son his father. All these wou’d declare, with joy in their countenances, that they shou’d be Angels of God; so strangely were they blinded by the Devil, whose prey they had made themselves.” According to this ignorant and superstitious Italian author; whoever preferr’d the Gospel to the vain Traditions of the Pope, abandoned himself to the evil Spirit. – Horrid blindness sure!’; cf. Lockman, History of the Cruel Sufferings, 334: ‘The author here hinted at, is so cruelly ignorant, as to censure those unhappy victims, and to declare that they deserved deaths.’ 22 See McLeod, ‘Introduction’,62–68. 23 John Lockman, ‘A Prefatory Discourse’,inSufferings of John Coustos, xxv–l, at xl, xlv: ‘All persons acquainted with history are sensible, that a bad religion and government, can greatly impair the face of the most beautiful country, can introduce poverty in places on which plenty had, before, diffus’d her whole store, and quite alter a people; as is finely exemplified by … the Italians and Italy. … How senseless then, how unnatural must it be, for any Englishmen [sic], any Protestant, to assist in forging chains to load himself! For such wou’d inevitably be or doom, shou’d the rebels triumph.’ 24 Korkman, ‘Conscience and Police’, 23. 25 Meri Päivärinne, ‘Enlightened Translations: Knowledge Mediation and Jean Barbeyrac’,in Translation and the (Trans)formation of Identities, ed. Dries De Crom (Leuven: CETRA Research Seminars, 2009), 1–14, at 3. 26 Periodicals of the age appear, though, to have mainly addressed male-shared cultures of feeling, reflecting a key aspect of the eighteenth-century attitude to women, namely the conviction that there was ‘a fundamental contradiction between being a woman and being an intellectual’. See Roland Bonnel and Catherine Rubinger, eds, Femmes savants et femmes d’esprit: Women Intellectuals of the French Eighteenth Century (New York: Peter Lang, 1994), 2. See also Kathryn Shevelow, Women and Print Culture: The Construction of Femininity in the Early Periodical (London: Routledge 1989), esp. ch. 1, 1–2: ‘At the same historical moment that women were, to a degree unprecedented in western Europe, becoming visible as readers and writers, the literary representation of women – whether as members of an intended audience, as writing subjects, or as textual objects – was producing an increasingly restrictive model of femininity.’ 27 Antonio Rotondò, ‘Stampa periodica olandese e opinione pubblica europea nel Settecento. La “Bibliothèque raisonnée” (1728–53)’, Rivista Storica Italiana 110 (1998): 166–221, at 191. Equally significantly, the periodical published, just a few months after his death, a splendid profile of the English freethinker Anthony Collins, in which his conviction that religion was pernicious for humankind was attributed to the ‘corruption that reigns amongst Christians and to the persecutory spirit of the clergy’ (‘corruption qui règne parmi les chrétiens et l’esprit persécuteur du clergé’), ibid., 214, quoting Bibliothèque Raisonnée 4 (1730): 234–35. 28 Bruno Lagarrigue, ‘Un temple de la culture Européenne (1728–35); l’histoire externe de la Bibliothèque Raisonnée des ouvrages des savans de l’Europe’ (unpublished doctoral dissertation, Katholieke Universiteit Nijmegen, 1993), 144–45. 29 Margaret C. Jacob, Living the Enlightenment: Freemasonry and Politics in Eighteenth-Century Europe (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 232, n20. McLeod (‘John Coustos: His Lodges and His Book’, 147) notes that the first German edition (1755 or 1756) amends L.T.V.I. to L.T.V.F. (le très vénérable frère?). 30 See Pierre Bayle, Avis aux réfugiés. Réponse d’un nouveau converti, ed. Gianluca Mori (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2007), 50. 31 Thomas Gordon, Dialogue Between Monsieur Jurieu, and a Burgomaster of Rotterdam (Amsterdam, 1740). This piece was originally published, during the 1720s, in The British Journal, nos. 66–68 and 75–78. 32 Lockman, ‘A Prefatory Discourse’, xxxvii–xxxviii: ‘What sensible Englishman could forbear smiling at the gross superstition which overspreads France?’ Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

50 Giovanni Tarantino 33 Margaret C. Jacob, ‘An Unpublished Record of a Masonic Lodge in England, 1710’, Zeitschrift für Religions-und Geistergeschichte 22 (1970): 168–71; Jacob, Radical Enlightenment, esp. ch. 5; Margaret C. Jacob, ‘The Radical Enlightenment and Freemasonry: Where We Are Now’, Philosophica 88 (2013): 13–29. 34 Lynn Hunt, Margaret C. Jacob, and Wijnand Mijnhardt, eds, The Book that Changed Europe: Picart and Bernard’s ‘Religious Ceremonies of the World’ (Cambridge: Belknap, 2010), 114, 279–82. Interestingly, Jean Frederic Bernard, the key figure responsible for the text of the Ceremonies, whose family produced pastors for the Huguenot Waldensian community in Provence (until it was almost completely wiped out in 1685) for over a hundred years, emphasized the fact that only the Waldensians, the followers of Jan Hus, and the Freemasons bonded together as ‘brothers’ (frères). 35 Reflexions upon the Idolatry of the Jesuits, and other affairs relating to Religion in China (London: Printed for H. Hills, 1709). 36 The Ceremonies and Religious Customs of the Various Nations of the Known World, 7 vols (London: Printed by William Jackson for Claude Du Bosc, 1733–39), 4:235–36. See Hunt, Jacob, and Mijnhardt, eds, The Book that Changed Europe, 241. 37 The Mysteries of Popery Unveiled, in the Unparalleled Sufferings of John Coustos, at the Inquisition of Lisbon. (Hartford: W. S. Marsh, 1820; Enfield: R. Reynolds and H. Thompson, 1821). Enfield, a town in Hartford County, has belonged to Connecticut since 1749. The revealing title of the volume seems to evoke the subtitle, The Mysterie of Jesuitisme, given to the first English translation (according to Anthony à Wood, by John Davies of Kidwelly of Pascal’s Provinciales (1657)). 38 See Joan R. Gundersen, ‘Anthony Gavin’s “A Master-Key to Popery”: A Virginia Parson’s Best Seller’, The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography 82, no. 1 (1974): 39–46; David Farrer, ‘The Identification of Gabriel d’Emiliane as Antonio Gavin’, Bibliographical Society of Australia and New Zealand Bulletin 19 (1995): 115–16; El Anti- papismo de un Aragonés Anglicano en la Inglaterra del Siglo XVIII: ‘Claves de la Corrupción Moral de la Iglesia Católica’ (1724) por Antonio Gavín, ed. Genaro Lamarca Langa, trans. Ramón Garcés Conrat (Saragossa: Institución Fernardo el Católico, 2008). Curiously, this is the first edition in Spanish of Gavín’s bestseller. 39 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 21. 40 Gavín drew both on his personal experience as a confessor – pointing out that he had not, in his view, contravened the secrecy of the confessional box – and, above all, on the decisions of the so-called moral academies, where local confessors of Saragossa routinely discussed particularly difficult cases with their colleagues: ‘I do assure the reader, that in every confession I have related, I have made use of feigned names, and avoided every circumstances by which I had the least cause to suspect the parties might be found out. And I assure him further, that most of the cases, here published by me are, in their most material points, already printed in the compendiums of that moral academy of which I was a member.’ He was specifically referring to the Compendium casuum moralium academiae S.S. Trinitatis, purportedly published every third year. See Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, xvii–xx. 41 Stephen Haliczer, Sexuality in the Confessional: A Sacrament Profaned (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), 184–86; Adriano Prosperi, Tribunali delle coscienze: inquisitori, confessori, missionary (Turin: Einaudi, 1996), esp. ch. 26; Fernarda Alfieri, Nella camera degli sposi. Tomás Sánchez, il matrimonio, la sessualità (secoli XVI–XVII) (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2010); Giovanni Tarantino, ‘Alternative Hierarchies: Manhood and Unbelief in Early Modern Europe, 1660–1750’,inGoverning Masculinities: Regulating Selves and Others in the Early Modern Period, eds Susan Broomhall and Jacqueline Van Gent (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2011), 209–25. 42 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 222–23: ‘God never will punish any man for not believing what is against the evidence of our senses, but the real presence in [the Eucharist] is so: Ergo (salva fide) God will not punish any man for not believing the real presence of Christ there. … he advised me not to make such an objection in public, Template: Royal A, Font: , Date: 10/11/2014; 3B2 version: 10.0.1465/W Unicode (Dec 22 2011) (APS_OT) Dir: //integrafs1/kcg/2-Pagination/TandF/SPF_RAPS/ApplicationFiles/9781138828162_text.3d

The mysteries of popery unveiled 51 but to keep it in my heart. But father (said I) I ask your answer; my answer is (said he) aliud Lingua doceo, aliud Corde credo, i.e., I teach one thing, and I believe another.’ This telling passage revealing his precocious doctrinal doubts refers to a dialogue on the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation and Eucharistic adoration between Gavín and his master in divinity, friar Diego García, preceding the defence of his divinity thesis at the university. 43 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery,43–44: ‘There are some [confessors] who, according to the principles of their religion, do discharge, their duty with exactness and purity, and whose lives, in their own way, are unblameable, and without reproach among men. … They live poorly, because whatever they have, the poor are enjoyers of it. … whatever counsels they give, are right, sincere, without flattery or interest. All pious, religious persons sollicite their acquaintance and conversation, but they avoid all sort of pomp and vanity.’ 44 Gavín (A Master-Key to Popery, 74) wrote a searing profile of María Guerrero, an attractive and ambitious tailor’s wife, who sowed the seeds of her own ruin by poi- soning a child whose death she had prophesied in order to reinforce her fame as a saint, ably constructed together with her confessor/lover: ‘The truth is, the blessed was not overshadowed by the spirit, but by her confessor; she being at that time with child, and delivered in the inquisition.’ Her real name was Francisca Guerrero. She died during childbirth in the prisons of the Inquisition on 23 February 1706. See El Antipapismo de un Aragonés Anglicano, 49. 45 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 141–42. 46 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 140–43. 47 See Keith Thomas, ‘Cases of Conscience in Seventeenth-Century England’,inPublic Duty and Private Conscience in Seventeenth-Century England, eds John Morrill, Paul Slack, and Daniel Woolf (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), 29–56. It is worth recalling here that in the eighteenth century, most English Protestant theologians stopped stressing the sinfulness of following an erroneous conscience, and began to take the view that what mattered most was a sincere intention. 48 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 299–300. 49 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 276–95. 50 Ramón José Sender, Carolus Rex (Barcelona: Destino, 1963). 51 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 279. 52 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 288. 53 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 288, 290–91. 54 See also Sufferings of John Coustos, 198–99: ‘ Upon pretence of succouring him in this deplorable condition he is reduc’d to, by this sufferings, he is allow’d a companion in his cell … who, after gaining his confidence, by pretending he also is imprison’d for the like crimes with himself; exclaims against the Inquisition, its injustice, rigour and cruelty; and thus make the prisoner fall into snares, which are the more difficult to be shunn’d, as they are disguis’d under the deceitful appearances of friendship, compassion, and sympathy in misfortunes.’ 55 See Linda Colley, Britons: Forging the Nation, 1707–1837 (1992; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009). 56 Gavín, A Master-Key to Popery, 366. 57 Sufferings of John Coustos, 173–74.

Minerva Access is the Institutional Repository of The University of Melbourne

Author/s: TARANTINO, G

Title: The mysteries of popery unveiled: Affective language in John Coustos's and Anthony Gavín's accounts of the Inquisition.

Date: 2015

Citation: TARANTINO, G. (2015). The mysteries of popery unveiled: Affective language in John Coustos's and Anthony Gavín's accounts of the Inquisition.. Spaces for Feeling: Emotions and Sociabilities in Britain, 1650-1850, Spaces for Feeling: Emotions and Sociabilities in Britain, 1650-1850, (1st), pp.35-51. Routledge - Taylor & Francis.

Persistent Link: http://hdl.handle.net/11343/43031