St Francis | Page 5

the first half. Men for
whom reason begins with the Reformation, can never give a complete
account of anything, for they have to start with institutions whose
origin they can never explain, or generally even imagine. Just as we
hear of the admiral being shot but have never heard of his being born,
so we all heard a great deal about the dissolution of the monasteries,
but we heard next to nothing about the creation of the monasteries.
Now this sort of history would be hopelessly insufficient, even for an
intelligent man who hated the monasteries. It is hopelessly insufficient
in connection with institutions that many intelligent men do in a quite
healthy spirit hate. For instance, it is possible that some of us have
occasionally seen some mention, by our learned leader-writers, of an
obscure institution called the Spanish Inquisition. Well, it really is an
obscure institution, according to them and the histories they read. It is
obscure because its origin is obscure. Protestant history simply begins
with the horrible thing in possession, as the pantomine begins with the
demon king in the goblin kitchen. It is likely enough that it was,
especially towards the end, a horrible thing that might be haunted by
demons; but if we say this was so, we have no notion why it was so. To

understand the Spanish Inquisition it would be necessary to discover
two things that we have never dreamed of bothering about; what Spain
was and what an Inquisition was. The former would bring in the whole
great question about the Crusade against the Moors; and by what heroic
chivalry a European nation freed itself of an alien domination from
Africa. The latter would bring in the whole business of the other
Crusade against the Albigensians, and why men loved and hated that
nihilistic vision from Asia. Unless we understand that there was in
these things originally the rush and romance of a Crusade, we cannot
understand how they came to deceive men or drag them on towards evil.
The Crusaders doubtless abused their victory, but there was a victory to
abuse. And where there is victory there is valour in the field and
popularity in the forum. There is some sort of enthusiasm that
encourages excesses or covers faults. For instance, I for one have
maintained from very early days the responsibility of the English for
their atrocious treatment of the Irish. But it would be quite unfair to
describe even the devilry of '98 and leave out altogether all mention of
the war with Napoleon. It would be unjust to suggest that the English
mind was bent on nothing but the death of Emmett, when it was more
probably full of the glory of the death of Nelson. Unfortunately '98 was
very far from being the last date of such dirty work; and only a few
years ago our politicians started trying to rule by random robbing and
killing, while gently remonstrating with the Irish for their memory of
old unhappy far-off things and battles long ago. But however badly we
may think of the Black-and tan business, it would be unjust to forget
that most of us were not thinking of Black-and-Tan but of khaki; and
that khaki had just then a noble and national connotation covering
many things. To write of the war with Ireland and leave out the war
against Prussia, and the English sincerity about it, would be unjust to
the English. So to talk about the torture-engine as if it had been a
hideous toy is unjust to the Spanish. It does not tell sensibly from the
start the story of what the Spaniards did, and why. We may concede to
our contempories that in any case it is not a story that ends well. We do
not insist that in their version it should begin well. What we complain
of is that in their version it does not begin at all. They are only in at the
death; or even, like Lord Tom Noddy, to late for the hanging. It is quite
true that it was more horrible than any hanging; but they only gather, so

to speak, the very ashes of the ashes; the fag-end of the faggot.
The case of the Inquisition is here taken at random, for it is one among
any number illustrating the same thing; and not because it is especially
connected with St. Francis, in whatever sense it may have been
connected with St Dominic. It may well be suggested later indeed that
St. Francis is unintelligible, just as St. Dominic is unintelligible, unless
we do understand something of what the thirteenth century meant by
heresy and a crusade. But for the moment I use it as a lesser example
for a much larger purpose. It is to