Chapter 4

The fact that Diego de Zúñiga is a frequent combination of names in Spain is an embarrassment to the investigator. It is noticeable that Luis de Leon's references seem to imply some doubt as to his opponent's real name; he is obviously uncertain whether his accuser should be called Zúñiga or Rodriguez,[109] and in this uncertainty he is not alone.[110] It appears that there were at least two Augustinians known as Diego de Zúñiga in Luis de Leon's time; it further appears that neither of the two inherited from his father the surname which he habitually used. Both men claimed relationship with the Duque de Béjar--it was to the seventh Duque de Béjar that Cervantes dedicated the First Part of _Don Quixote_ in 1605--and both assumed the family name of that illustrious stock.[111] The original name of the more celebrated of these Zúñigas was Diego Arias;[112] the original name of the less celebrated was Rodriguez.[113] This is not decisive, but it may well be one of those small facts which speak volumes. Chronology confirms the conclusion to be drawn from these considerations. The Zúñiga who appeared against Luis de Leon at Valladolid was evidently professed as early as 1559 or 1560;[114] the more celebrated Zúñiga was not professed till 1566.[115] General considerations point in the same direction. The views of Zúñiga (_alias_ Arias) were approximately those of Luis de Leon;[116] he viewed matters from the same standpoint, was himself a university professor,[117] and had something of Luis de Leon's fearlessness.[118] Zúñiga (_alias_ Rodriguez) was a man of a very different type: pedantically attached to the letter of the law, morbidly scrupulous on points of discipline. There seems to be no touch of burlesque intention in Luis de Leon's presentment of the man. According to Luis de Leon, Zúñiga (_alias_ Rodriguez) was half-crazed with vanity, much given to boasting of the esteem in which he was held at the Papal Court. On one occasion, the fatuous Zúñiga produced a short treatise entitled _Manera para aprender todas las ciencias_, and, stating that he proposed sending this pamphlet to the Pope, made bold to ask what his interlocutor thought of it. Can he have been vain enough to expect a favourable verdict? If so, he did not know his man. Luis de Leon drily expressed his regret that a work destined for the Pope should be so slight and should contain a number of rather commonplace passages such as might be found in any current book of reference--though, as he added politely, he assumed that these passages were the fruit of independent reading. This courteous assumption, which Zúñiga hastily assured Luis de Leon was exact,[119] could not alter the fact that the ambitious author had been severely snubbed, and this snub may well have rankled in the mind of a man who is described as 'vindictive'. Zúñiga had another grievance against Luis de Leon, who had taken a severe view of his companion's insolence to an official superior at a Provincial Chapter, and had joined in making representations the upshot of which was that the culprit was publicly and ignominiously punished.[120] It is well-nigh incredible that the Zúñiga who championed Copernicus, and displays vigilant self-restraint in his writings, should have been guilty of such flightiness as is brought home to his namesake; it is by no means inconceivable that the Zúñiga who deposed against Luis de Leon should have been guilty of occasional lapses. He is said to have been impetuous as well as vindictive;[121] he had the dangerous gift of pulpit eloquence[122] and may have acquired the trick of saying rather more than he meant. His evidence against Luis de Leon, though fluent and clear, is not what we should expect from a man of talent, who recognized the gravity of the charges against the prisoner. His testimony, such as it is, has less intellectual substance than the testimony of Castro and Medina; it turns mainly on petty personal questions or on points of morbid scrupulousness. The more closely his evidence is scrutinized, the more difficult is it to avoid the suspicion that Zúñiga was not a perfectly trustworthy witness. For instance, according to his sworn statement he was thirty-six years old when he deposed at Toledo on November 4, 1572.[123] The declaration is made positively without any of the qualifying phrases--'about', 'nearly', 'more or less'--so frequent on the part of witnesses. Nevertheless, it seems possible that this assertion is erroneous. Zúñiga refers to a discussion respecting Arias Montano which he had with Luis de Leon in the latter's cell some thirteen years previously. At this time Zúñiga would, on his own showing, be but twenty-three. From what we know of Luis de Leon, it seems improbable that he would admit to his confidential intimacy a man so much his junior. No doubt Zúñiga (or Rodriguez) was young at the time--hardly old enough, by his own reckoning, to be an ordained priest--a _mancebo_, as he seemed to Luis de Leon's retrospicient eyes.[124] Yet it is very hard to believe that Zúñiga was no more than twenty-three when he took it upon himself to cast doubts on the orthodoxy of Benito Arias Montano;[125] nor is it likely that Luis de Leon would discuss so delicate a topic with the most brilliant of youths. Let it not be said that the question of Zúñiga's accuracy in stating his age is relatively unimportant. It is highly relevant; for, if Zúñiga were capable of making a mistake on such a point, he was manifestly more liable to error when dealing with other matters on which he necessarily knew less. However, Zúñiga's evidence is not weighty enough to call for detailed examination. He may be left to bear the burden of Luis de Leon's scorn. I am more concerned here to suggest that, on the facts before us, we are not compelled to identify the Zúñiga who deposed against Luis de Leon with a namesake of a higher intellectual type. To us who read the testimony in cold blood, more than three centuries after it was given, it seems that Luis de Leon deals as impartially with his brethren as with members of other religious orders. This was not his intention, at any rate. He knew his fellow-Augustinians better than he could know the rest, and he himself tells us not obscurely that, out of consideration for his gown, he was silent on various matters which, if proclaimed aloud, would not make for edification.[126]

Members of the Valladolid Court could see for themselves that while Luis de Leon's opponents--Dominicans, Jeromites, and the rest--were banded solidly against him, the Augustinians were by no means unanimous in his favour. That he was difficult to deal with personally the Court had opportunities of knowing. His unbending fidelity to principle and his impetuosity probably produced on the tribunal an impression of obstinacy combined with caprice. On May 6, 1573, a certain Dr. Ortiz de Funes was, as is recorded, nominated counsel to the prisoner;[127] there is no reason to suppose that Ortiz de Funes was in ability below the average level of the bar, but he was no match for his client, and though he may have given valuable advice on purely legal points, when these arose, it soon became plain that Luis de Leon was the brain of the defence and that he meant to conduct that defence in his own way. Ortiz de Funes became a nullity or, at least, a mere figure-head whose main duty consisted in signing papers which the prisoner had drawn up. A time came when, according to the practice of the Inquisition, it became necessary for Luis de Leon to nominate _patronos_, and in this matter Ortiz de Funes intervened somewhat more prominently than was usual with him. A _patrono_ has no exact counterpart in English ecclesiastical law; it was his business, within narrow limits, to defend the interests of the accused from the theological point of view. On June 26, 1574, Luis de Leon was brought into court, and was told that he was to choose two _patronos_ out of four men whose names were given him.[128] He was obviously taken aback at this proposal, and replying that, since he did not know any of the four, he was ignorant as to their qualifications, added that he had already requested the appointment of Sebastian Perez, professor of Theology at Párraces, as _patrono_. He renewed his request, adding that either Dr. Cáncer or the Dominican Hernando del Castillo could be appointed with Perez; but before any determination was taken, he begged leave to consult his legal adviser.[129] As might have been expected, Ortiz de Funes fell in with his client's view and two days later made a formal application to the Court that Perez be appointed _patrono_, with either Cáncer or Castillo to help him.[130] No appointment was made at the moment and, as it turned out, this was perhaps just as well; for by June 30 Luis de Leon had changed his mind, and appeared in court to ask that Castillo's name be removed from the list of acceptable _patronos_.[131] On July 14 Ortiz de Funes announced his client's intention of appealing to the Inquisitor-General against the decision forcing him to select _patronos_ from a list of persons unknown to him.[132] Neither Luis de Leon nor Ortiz de Funes seemed to have guessed that the Valladolid judges were acting on instructions from the Supreme Inquisition at Madrid.[133] For a moment the step taken by Ortiz de Funes and his client appeared to have some slight effect. Luis de Leon was informed that he would be allowed to appoint Perez as his _patrono_ but on two conditions: (1) he must undertake to pay all the travelling expenses of his _patrono_, and (2) an inquiry must be held to establish the _limpieza_ of Perez. This last proceeding, it was significantly added, would be slow.[134] Again Ortiz de Funes was consulted; but it is difficult to believe that he had more than a technical responsibility for the startling decision which he announced: the decision to accept as _patronos_ Fray Mancio de _Corpus Christi_ and either Bartolomé de Medina or Dr. Cáncer.[135] Mancio, whose pupil Luis de Leon had once been at Alcalá, was a Dominican;[136] hence he would be suspect--perhaps doubly 'suspect'--in the prisoner's eyes. Medina, also a Dominican, was an overt foe; Cáncer, of whom Luis de Leon knew nothing except that he was a professor at Salamanca, proved to be not over friendly. Luis de Leon may conceivably have thought that Mancio's undoubted learning would ensure his treading in the strict path of justice, and that Mancio's advanced age[137] would enable him to press his views on his coadjutor. It is more likely, however, that the three names were put forward in a paroxysm of impatience--at a moment when Luis de Leon was willing to fall in with any arrangement which might hasten a decision of his case.

Mancio was appointed _patrono_, and was duly sworn in at Valladolid on October 9, 1574;[138] on October 13 he made a report favourable to the accused.[139] The prisoner was not informed of this (as he should have been), and took umbrage at what he thought was an act of insolent remissness. He appeared in court on October 16, and protested against any of his papers being entrusted to Mancio, lest he should take them to his Dominican monastery where they ran the risk of being scanned by hostile eyes.[140] On October 22 the prisoner showed signs of increasing distrust, for he then requested the return of thirty-two sheets of paper, covered with notes for his defence, which he himself had handed to Mancio.[141] Luis de Leon's suspicions deepened rapidly. On October 25 he asked to be allowed to cancel his nomination of Mancio as _patrono_.[142] The local judges referred the application to the Supreme Inquisition, and were instructed to proceed as though nothing unusual had happened; Mancio, however, was to be told to stay away still further notice.[143] On December 7 Luis de Leon handed in a written explanation of his recent action. With regard to Mancio, he complained of his _patrono's_ omission to confer with him, expressed some suspicion that Mancio might have become a party to Medina's plot, declined to accept as valid Mancio's excuse for not attending--that he had to lecture in Salamanca--and vehemently declared that Mancio's negligence amounted to very grave sin.[144] These phrases can scarcely have been used in their natural sense, for Luis de Leon concluded his written petition by stating that he was still willing to accept Mancio as his _patrono_, if Mancio were able to be present at Valladolid. Should this be impossible, the prisoner asked that Dr. Vadillo, Canon of Plasencia, and the Augustinian Fray Francisco Cueto should be assigned to him as _patronos_. A working arrangement thus became possible, and the General Inquisitor at Madrid ordered that Mancio should be given due facilities. These orders were received on December 13.[145] It appears that Mancio picked up the dropped threads of this business on December 23, and spent another day or two in reviewing the general situation.[146] Mancio's cautious policy was doubtless sound; but to Luis de Leon, who maintained that the matters on which his _patrono_ had to pronounce were as simple as could be, these tactics seemed mistaken, and on January 13, 1575, he begged the Court to press Mancio to give an opinion without delay.[147] On March 6 Luis de Leon once more complained of being unable to confer with his _patrono_; but now, rather late in the day, he came nearer to putting the blame on the right shoulders. Hitherto he had been prone to ascribe all manner of evil motives to Mancio, whom he should have known better: at last it vaguely dawned on him that the obstacles might come (as, in fact, they did come) from the tribunal which was trying him.[148] On March 15 Mancio wrote a letter to the judges, promising to attend at Valladolid unless absolutely prevented from doing so.[149] Four days later the General Inquisition wrote to the same judges, hinting that a decision might be given shortly.[150] The Valladolid Court was stirred into temporary activity. A sitting was held on March 30; Mancio was present; a consultation took place between him and his client;[151] and henceforth we hear no more of difficulties in connexion with Luis de Leon's _patrono_. Nearly six months had been wasted owing to want of tact on the part of the Inquisitionary officials.

As the event proved, the prisoner's protests in this matter were thoroughly justified. It is easy to perceive this now. We cannot be sure that we should have taken the same view had we been contemporary spectators. If appearances were not actually against Luis de Leon, they combined to reveal him in his least attractive posture. His comparative promptitude in accepting Mancio as _patrono_, his unwillingness to abide by his choice, his sudden hostility to Mancio, his final acceptance of Mancio, are all explicable variations. Nevertheless they showed a disregard for superficial consistency which might easily be misinterpreted as caprice. The bias of the court had been veering away from the prisoner for some time. His series of actions with respect to Mancio lost him all judicial favour. His judges considered him as an unreasonable man, a gifted sophist fertile in inventing objections in and out of season, a hair-splitter perpetually arguing for argument's sake. Luis de Leon was, as a rule, so unaccommodating that some of his judges may have begun to think they understood why he was not universally popular with members of his own order. Nor did Luis de Leon's demeanour in court serve to dissipate the atmosphere of almost arrogant rectitude which enveloped him. He felt bound to criticize the machinery of the Inquisition. He may easily have seemed to be criticizing those engaged in working the machinery. At the best of times the procedure of the Court was not expeditious. For example, though Luis de Leon was arrested on March 27, 1572, the first hearing of his formal defence did not take place till April 14--more than a fortnight later. More than once Luis de Leon complained of the Court's delays without going into questions of motive.[152] In this he was clearly right, for, as we have seen, the Supreme Inquisition was not wholly satisfied with the progress made. At other times the prisoner stressed the fact that constant postponements were apt to do him injury, and he hinted rather plainly that there was an intention to wear him down by deliberately prolonging the proceedings.[153] In this conjecture he was almost certainly wrong. The Valladolid judges had no power to alter the system which they found in existence; possibly, becoming accustomed to it, they ended by thinking well of it. Its weak points were naturally more evident to Luis de Leon, and his torrent of critical remarks may have seemed to reflect on the intelligence and probity of the Court. Administrators, however exalted, are human, and even the lowliest of magistrates is prone to take offence, if given to understand that he is considered dull and dishonest. Luis de Leon never was betrayed into using disrespectful language; but his polite formulae could not conceal the fact that he had no very high opinion of those in whose hands his fate lay. Nor did the well-meant observance of established forms on the part of the Court do anything to modify his sentiments. It was in strict conformity with precedent that he should be adjured to make a clean breast of it and should be informed that, while truthfulness would meet with clemency, lying would be severely dealt with.[154] It is strange that it should have been thought necessary to use this formula in the case of Luis de Leon--a highly-strung, sensitive man, with an almost morbid passion for truth. The sole excuse for the Inquisitors is that this warning was given at the first sitting. But, at the second sitting, the warning was repeated in almost identical terms.[155] It seems scarcely possible to show less tact in the conduct of a difficult case. No doubt the explanation is that none of the Valladolid judges was sufficiently independent to set a precedent of his own.

Large allowances must be made for those unhappy men. They cannot reasonably be blamed for not taking it upon themselves to alter the established procedure of the Court in which they sat. Their position was always difficult, and it did not become easier as time went on. They had good reason to know that a vocal group of influential persons in Salamanca confidently expected them to condemn Luis de Leon; yet some of them, at least, were uncomfortably aware that the evidence before them would not warrant a conviction on the major charges. The most damaging witnesses--Medina, Castro, and Zúñiga--had been called at a very early stage of the proceedings. These heavy guns had been fired without destroying the adversary. There was nothing for it now but to hope for the worst from the reports of the official _calificadores_, Dr. Cáncer, Fray Nicolas Ramos, and Dr. Frechilla, who did their utmost to fulfil expectations.[156] Lest the pronouncements of this trio proved unconvincing, the precaution was taken of excluding evidence. At the beginning of the case, any sort of second-hand gossip was admitted as evidence on the chance that its cumulative effect might be damaging to the accused. At Murcia, on February 4, 1573, a hostile Augustinian, Fray Juan Ciguelo, a man of doubtful character, was permitted to retail idle chatter on the part of another Augustinian who averred that Luis de Leon was prone to saying _Requiems_ too often, and was in the habit of reading Latin too quickly.[157] Ciguelo's testimony, though malignant, had done no harm; later on, it was thought more prudent to adopt the opposite policy and to prevent as many as possible of the witnesses for the defence from being heard. As late as July 7, 1576, no less than three interrogatories[158] by Luis de Leon were rejected on the ground that they were irrelevant (_impertinentes_).[159] It is difficult to reconcile these decisions, except on the hypothesis that the later ruling was thought to be more likely to damage Luis de Leon than the earlier one. In their despair, his adversaries trumped up an assertion which was easily disproved.[160]