British historian Henry Arthur Francis Kamen has no apparent reason
to defend the record of the Spanish Inquisition. He got his M.A. (Oxon.) in 1965,
the same year he published his Spanish Inquisition. He specializes in Spanish
history. Twenty years later he published another updated study on the Inquisition
in the early modern period called Inquisition and Society in Spain. Among
the first things Kamen brings to our attention is that Llorente himself was astonished
at the lack of any opposition to the Inquisition in Spain itself. This fact
from the documentation can be interpreted variously, of course — were people
just too afraid to speak out? But two additional facts are also necessary to consider. The first is that the civil variety of the Inquisition was a court alien to
the older and more tolerant Spanish traditions and was introduced only in time
of crisis. It was long unpopular in Aragon, for example, where local feudal freedoms
from royal absolutism (“fueros”) resented its presence. Castilian inquisitors
were also resented in Catalonia and elsewhere outside Castile, precisely because
they were outsiders. But people can put up with just about anything when threatened
with a crisis situation, and so the “early” Inquisition was tolerated, as were
“later” ones when special crises obtained. Secondly, as noted above, it was
supposed to be a temporary measure against judaizer-heretics who were then mainly
the “converso” party of Jews (only later were ex-Muslims the object of the Inquisition)
forced in 1391 and thereafter to be baptized or face exile or death. After
the breakdown of the spirit of “convivencia,” the Old Christians actually feared
for their blood lines, and so after 1480 tolerated the Inquisition at times more
for the sake of “ethnic cleansing” than religious orthodoxy. All of this may
be against our standards today, but it does have a precise understanding in Spanish
social history. Here is what Kamen says of their tolerance. What
did Spaniards themselves think of the Inquisition? There can be no doubt that
the people as a whole gave their ready support to its existence. The tribunal
was, after all, not a despotic body imposed on them tyrannically, but a logical
expression of the social prejudices prevalent in their midst. It was created to
deal with a problem of heresy, and as long as the problem was deemed to exist
people seemed to accept it. The Inquisition was probably no more loved or hated
than the police are in our time: in a society where there was no other general
policing body, people took their grievances to it and exploited it to pay off
personal scores. By the same token, it was on the receiving end of frequent hostility
and resentment; but at every moment the inquisitors were convinced that the people
were with them, and with good reason. Was Spain a closed or
an open society? Kamen goes on to say these astonishing things. The image of
Spain as a nation sunk in intellectual torpor and religious superstition, all
of it due to the Inquisition, is one that Menendez Pelayo was right to controvert.
Spain was in reality one of the freest nations in Europe, with active political
institutions at all levels. Remarkably free discussion of political affairs was
tolerated, and public controversy occurred on a scale paralleled in few other
countries.
Let us not forget, either, that the works of Galileo were never
put on the Spanish Index of Forbidden Books!
Anti-semitism after 1480 in Spain
was local, and the monarchy continued, at least for a while, to be the traditional
defender of the Jews, both those who remained Jews by religion and the “converso”
communities. Kamen even points out that “converso” financing was partially responsible
for outfitting the ships Columbus used to discover the New World. Many rich
or famous “conversos” were never troubled by the Inquisition. Others lived abroad
to avoid it, such as Juan Luis Vives. The pattern is an uneven one. It was widely
held that almost the whole of the nobility had Jewish blood. By the seventeenth
century, the limpieza statutes had actually closed some government and academic
posts to the nobility, but by reason of blood, opened them to common people! An
outdated Catholic publication (1931) states that the last victim of the Inquisition
in Spain was a schoolmaster hanged in 1826. Some limpieza statutes lingered for
a few more decades into the nineteenth century. We should note that the thoroughly
enfeebled institution of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is hardly comparable
to the one functioning under Ferdinand and Isabella at the close of the fifteenth
century. “In rounded terms, it is likely that over three-quarters of all those
who perished under the Inquisition in the three centuries of its existence, did
so in the first twenty years.” This synthetic summary is the reasoned fruit
of Henry Kamen’s painstaking analysis: The Inquisition was not the
imposition of a sinister tyranny on an unwilling people. It was an institution
brought into being by a particular socio-religious situation, impelled and inspired
by a decisively Old Christian ideology, and controlled by men whose outlook reflected
the mentality of the mass of Spaniards. The dissenters were a few intellectuals,
and others whose blood alone was sufficient to put them outside the pale of the
new society being erected on a basis of triumphant and militant conservatism.
Elizabeth (or 'Erzsebet') Bathory was born the daughter of George and Anna Bathory in 1560. Bathory spent most of her adult life at Castle Cachtice. Though the castle was mistakenly reported as being in Transylvania by Raymond T. McNally, it is actually located near the town of Vishine, just north-east of what is present day Bratislava (where Austria, Hungary, and the Slovak Republic come together).
Bathory grew up in an era when much of Hungary had been overrun by the Turkish forces of the Ottoman empire and was a battleground between Turkish and Austiran (Hapsburg) armies. The area was also split by religous differences. Her family sided with the new wave of Protestantism that opposed the traditional Romanian Catholisism. She was raised on the Bathory family estate at Ecsed in Transylvania. As a child Bathory was subject to seizures accompanied by intense rage and uncontrollable behavior.
Elizabeth became pregnant as the result of a brief affair with a peasant man in 1574. When her condition became evident, she was sequestereduntil the baby's birth, due to her engagement to Count Ferenc Nadasdy. They were married in May of 1575. Since Nadasdy was a soldier, he was frequently away for long periods of time. This left Bathory with the duties of managing the affairs of the Nadasdy family estate, Castle Sarvar. It was here that Elizabeth's career of evil truly began, with the disciplining of the large household staff, especially the young girls.
In a time period in which cruel and arbitrary behavior by those in power toward those who were servants was common, Elizabeth's level of cruelty was noteworthy. She did not just punish infringements on her rules, but found excuses to inflict punishments and delighted in the torture and death of her victim's far beyond what her contemporaries could accept. She would stick pins in various sensitive body part, such as under the fingernails. In the winter she would execute victims by having them stripped, led out into the snow, and doused with water until they were frozen.
Bathory's husband joined in some of her sadistic behavior and actually taught his wife a some new varieties of punishment. For example, he showed her a summertime version of her freezing exercise - he had a woman stripped, covered with honey, then left outside to be bitten by numerous insects. He died in 1604, and Elizabeth moved to Vienna soon after his burial.
Amongst her numerous acts and tortures, the accusation that Bathory drained the blood of her victims and bathed in it was what earned her the title of a vampire. It is also noted that she occasionally bit the flesh of the girls during their torture. It is said that the reason Bathory bathed in blood was to retain her youthful looks and beauty, and she was, by all accounts, a most attractive woman.
All records of Elizabeth were sealed for more than a century, and her name was forbidden to be spoken in Hungarian society.
Unlike most females of the time, Elizabeth was well educated and her intelligence surpassed even some of the men of her time. Elizabeth was exceptional, becoming "fluent in Hungarian, Latin, and German... when most Hungarian nobles could not even spell or write... Even the ruling prince of Transylvania at the time was barely literate." Some modern scholars and contemporaries of hers postulated that she may have been insane, thus accounting for her seemingly inconceivable atrocities, but even a brief glance into her past reveals a person fully in control of her faculties.
In the summer of 1610 an official inquiry began concerning Elizabeth's actions. However, it was not vast number of her victim's that brought Bathory to court, but rather, political concerns instead. The crown hoped to escape from paying back a rather extensive loan that her husband had made to the king, as well as wishing to confiscate her land holdings, which were rather large as well.
On December 19, 1610, Bathory was arrested, and a few days later, placed on trial. The trial, mainly for show, was conducted by an agent of the king, Count Thurzo, it was initated not only for a conviction, but for the confiscation of her lands as well. One week following the first trial, on January 7, 1611, a second trail was convened.
During the second trail a register that had been retrieved from Elizabeth's living quarters was submitted as evidence. The register recorded the naes of 650 victims, all written in Bathory's handwriting. Bathory's accomplices were sentenced to be executed. The manner of their deaths was determined by thier roles in the tortures. Elizabeth herself was sentenced to life imprisonment in solitary confinement.
Bathroy was held in a room of her Cachtice castle. The room contained no windows of doors, only a few slits for air, and a small opening for food and water to be given to her. Elizabeth remained in confinement there until her death three years later on August 21, 1614. She was buried in the Bathory lands at Ecsed.
Dracula, created by the Irish author Bram Stoker, was based, albeit loosely, on the Romanian Prince, Vlad Dracula, the Impaler. Raymond T. McNally, who has written four books on the figure of Dracula in history, literature, and vampirism, in his fifth book, Dracula was a Woman, presents insights into the fact that Stoker's Count Dracula was also strongly influenced by the legends of Elizabeth Bathory of Hungary. Why, for example, make a Romanian Prince into a Hungarian Count? Why, if there are no accounts of Vlad Dracula drinking human blood, does blood drinking consume the Dracula of Stoker's novel, who, contrary to established vampire myth, seems to appear younger after doing so? The answers, of course, lie in examining the story of Countess Elizabeth Bathory.
It was largely Slovak servants whom Elizabeth killed, so the name "Csejthe" is only spoken in derision, and she is still called "The Hungarian Whore" in the area.