THE GREAT STORMS
1580-1597
Manares suspected of ambition--Election of Aquaviva--Beginning
of Spanish discontent--Denis Vásquez--The "Ratio Studiorum"--
Society's action against Confessors of Kings and Political
Embassies--Trouble with the Spanish Inquisition and Philip II--
Attempts at a Spanish Schism--The Ormanetto papers--Ribadeneira
suspected--Imprisonment of Jesuits by the Spanish Inquisition--
Action of Toletus--Extraordinary Congregation called--Exculpation
of Aquaviva--The dispute "de Auxiliis"--Antoine Arnauld's attack
--Henry IV and Jean Chastel--Reconciliation of Henry IV to the
Church--Royal protection--Saint Charles Borromeo--Troubles in
Venice--Sarpi--Palafox.
When Mercurian died, on August 1, 1580, Oliver Manares, who, like the
deceased General, was a Belgian, called the general congregation for
February 7, 1581. Two of the old companions of St. Ignatius, Salmerón
and Bobadilla, were there, as were also the able coadjutor of Canisius,
Hoffæus, and Claude Matthieu, the latter of whom was beginning to be
conspicuous in the League against the King of Navarre. Maldonatus, also,
occupied a seat in the distinguished assembly. Before the congregation
met, rumors began to be heard that Manares was seeking the generalship
for himself. The grounds of the suspicions seem almost too frivolous for
an outsider, but in an order which had pronounced so positively against
ambition in the Church, it was proper that it should be scrupulously
sensitive about any act in the body itself that might resemble it. The
grounds of the accusation were that he had sent a present to Father
Toletus who was very close to the Pope, and had also once said to a
lay-brother: "If I were General, I would do so and so." A committee was
appointed to examine the case, and Manares was declared ineligible. The
Pope found the action of the congregation excessively rigid, but,
possibly, as in the preceding congregation it had been decided that the
succession of three Spanish Generals contained in it an element of
danger, so it was feared that as the dead General who had appointed one
of his own race to be vicar, there might be reason for apprehension in
that also. As a matter of fact, the power given to the General to
appoint his vicar was by some looked upon as quite unwise, as it
afforded at least a remote opportunity for self-perpetuation.
On February 19, 1581, Claudius Aquaviva was elected General of the
Society by thirty-two votes out of fifty-one. He was not yet
thirty-eight years of age. The Pope was astounded at the choice, but the
sequel proved that it was providential. "No one," says Bartoli, "was
raised to that dignity who had given more evident or more numerous signs
that his election came from God, and perhaps, no one, with the exception
of St. Ignatius, has a greater claim to the gratitude of the Society or
has helped it more efficaciously to achieve the object for which it was
founded." He was the youngest son of the Duke of Atri, and was born at
Naples in 1543. As his youth was passed in his father's palace, he could
at most only have heard the names of some of the companions of St.
Ignatius, but when he was about twenty years of age he was sent to Rome
to defend some family interest, and he attracted so much attention that
he was retained at court, first by Paul IV, and afterwards by Pius V,
both of whom were struck by his superior qualities of mind and heart.
There for the first time he came in contact with the Jesuits. It
happened that Christopher Rodriguez, John Polanco, and Francis Borgia
were frequently admitted to an audience with the Holy Father, and young
Aquaviva was so drawn to them when he heard them speaking of Divine
things, that he began to make inquiries about their manner of life and
the rule they followed. He felt called to join them but he hesitated a
while, for the Roman purple was an honor that was assured him; finally,
however, he made up his mind, and after the Pontifical Mass on St.
Peter's day he fell at Borgia's feet and asked for admission to the
Society. When Ormanetto, the papal legate, heard of it, he exclaimed:
"The Apostolic College has lost its finest ornament."
Nine years later, Aquaviva was made rector of the Roman Seminary, and
then, by a strange coincidence, became rector of the College of Naples,
as successor of Dionisio Vásquez, who later on was to be very
conspicuous in an attempt by the Spanish members to disrupt the Society,
and thus occasion the bitterest trial of Aquaviva's administration as
General. After rapidly repairing the ruin that Vásquez had caused in
Naples, Aquaviva was made provincial, and was then entrusted with the
care of the Roman province. He had served in that capacity only a year
when he was elected General. Some years before that, Nadal must have
foreseen the promotion when he advised Aquaviva to make the
Constitutions of Saint Ignatius his only reading. "You will stand very
much in need of it," he said. The congregation formulated sixty-nine
decrees, one of which gave the General power to appoint his vicar, and
another to interpret the Constitutions. Such interpretations, however,
were not to have the force of law, but were to be considered merely as
practical directions for government. Another decree regulated the method
to be followed in the dissolution of houses and colleges.
Aquaviva's first letter to the Society was concerned chiefly with the
qualities which superiors should possess--especially those of
vigilance, sweetness and strength. His second was more universal, and
dealt with the necessity of a constant renewal of the spiritual life. To
him the Society is indebted for the "Directorium," or guide of the
Spiritual Exercises.
Under his administration the "Ratio Studiorum," or scheme of studies,
was produced. It was the result of fifteen years of collaboration
(1584-99) by a number of the most competent scholars that could be found
in the Society. It covers the whole educational field from theology down
to the grammar of the lower classes, exclusive, however, of the
elements. Of course, this "Ratio" has not escaped criticism, for
scarcely anything the Society ever attempted has had that good fortune.
Thus, to take one out of many, Michelet bemoans the fact that "the Ratio
has been; in operation for 300 years and has not yet produced a man."
Such a charge, of course, does not call for discussion.
The greatest service that Aquaviva rendered the Society, and for which
it will ever bless his memory is that he saved it from destruction in a
fight that ran through the thirty years of his Generalate, and in which
he found opposed to him Popes, kings, and princes, along with the
terrible authority of the Spanish Inquisition and, worst of all, a
number of discontented members of the Order, banded together and
resorting to the most reprehensible tactics to alter completely the
character of the Institute and to rob it of that Catholicity which
constitutes its glory and its power.
He began his work by making it impossible, as far as it lay in his
power, for a Jesuit to be used as the tool of any prince or potentate,
no matter how dazzling might be the dignity with which one so employed
was invested, or the glory which his work reflected on the Society.
Thus, he put his ban on the office of royal confessor, which some of
the members of the Society in those days were compelled to accept. He
could not prevent it absolutely just then, but he laid down such
stringent laws regarding it, that all ambition or desire of that very
unapostolic work was eliminated. Its inconveniences were manifest. It is
inconceivable, for instance, that a sovereign like Henry IV, who was a
devoted friend of the Society, ever consulted Father Coton about
scruples of conscience; for his majesty was never subject to spiritual
worry of that description; and on the other hand, the unfortunate
confessor was often suspected or accused of influencing or advising
political measures with which he could have had nothing whatever to do.
Jealousy also, of those who were appointed to the office was inevitable,
and dislike and hatred not only of the individual who occupied the post,
but of the order to which he belonged was aroused. Even the confessor's
own relatives and friends were alienated, because he was forbidden to
make use of his spiritual influence for their worldly advantage.
Finally, apart from the loss of time, daily contact with the vice of the
court, which he could not openly reprehend, necessarily reacted on the
spiritual tone of the religious himself.
The same objections obtained for the flamboyant embassies which had been
so much in vogue up to that time, and which are still quoted as
evidencing the wonderful influence wielded by the Society in those days.
They, too, were stopped, for the reason that although they were nearly
always connected with the interests of the Faith, yet they were very
largely controlled by worldly politics. Hence Possevin, who had made
such a stir by his embassies to Muscovy, Sweden, Poland and elsewhere,
was relegated to a class-room in Padua. Matthieu, who figured
conspicuously in the politico-religious troubles of France as the
"Courier de la Ligue," was told to desist from his activities, although
Pope Sixtus V judged otherwise; and finally, the most famous orator of
his day in France, Father Auger, who was loud in his denunciation of the
Holy League, received peremptory orders to desist from discussing the
subject at all. His quick obedience to the command was the best sermon
he ever preached.
Aquaviva had also a very protracted struggle with Philip II in relation
to the Spanish Inquisition. The king had frequently expressed a desire
to have a Jesuit in one or other of the conspicuous offices of that
tribunal, but Aquaviva stubbornly refused, first, because of the odium
attached to the Inquisition itself, and also because he suspected that
Philip designed, by that means, to lay hold of the machinery of the
Society and control it. His most glorious battle, however, was one that
was fought in the Society itself, against an organized movement which
was making straight for the destruction of the great work of St.
Ignatius. It is somewhat of a stain on the splendid history of the
Order, but it should not be concealed or palliated or explained away,
for it not only reveals the masterful generalship of Aquaviva, but it
also brings out, in splendid relief, the magnificent resisting power of
the organization itself.
The Spanish Jesuits were profoundly shocked when the Pope prevented the
perpetuation of Spanish rule in the Society. The psychological reason of
their surprise was that the average Spaniard at that time was convinced
that Spain alone was immune from heresy. As a matter of fact, all the
other nations of Europe, Ireland excepted, had been infected, and
possibly it was a mistaken loyalty to the Church that prompted a certain
number of them to organize a plot to make the Society exclusively
Spanish or destroy it.
It will come as a painful discovery for many that the originator of this
nefarious scheme was Father Araoz, the nephew of St. Ignatius. Astrain
(II, 101) regrets to admit it, but the documents in his hands make it
imperative. He quotes letters which show that even in the time of St.
Ignatius, Araoz complained of the Roman administration, putting the
blame, however, on Polanco. His discontent was more manifest under
Laínez, when he maintained that the General should not be elected for
life; that provincials and rectors should be voted for, as in other
Orders; that there should be a general chapter in Spain to manage its
own affairs, and not only that no foreigner should be admitted to a
Spanish province, but that there should not even be any communication
with non-Spaniards in other sections of the Society. One would not
expect such Knownothingism in a Jesuit, but the documents setting forth
these facts which were found among the papers of Araoz after his death
make it only too manifest. They contain among other things accounts of
the opposition of Araoz to Laínez, to Francis Borgia, and to Nadal, none
of which is very pleasant reading.
In a letter unearthed by Antonio Ibáñez, the visitor of the province of
Toledo, Araoz goes on to say: "(1) We must petition the Pope and ask
that all religious orders in Spain shall have a Spanish general,
independent of the one in Rome, so as to avoid the danger of heresy. (2)
No Spaniard living outside of Spain should be elected general,
commissary or visitor in Spain. (3) As there is such a diversity of
customs and usages in each nation, they should not mix with one another.
(4) General congregations expose the delegates to act as spies for the
enemy. (5) The king should write to the cardinal protector of the
religious orders not to oppose this plan." Other papers by Spanish
Jesuits were found among those of Ormanetto, nuncio at Madrid, who died
on June 17, 1577. They call for drastic changes, in the difference of
grades, the manner of electing superiors, dismissals from the Society,
and such matters. The authorship of the Ormanetto papers could not be
determined with certainty, but suspicion fell upon Father Solier, and
for a time, even upon Ribadeneira who, at that time, was in Madrid for
his health, and was in the habit of calling frequently at the nunciature
with Solier. In the following year, it was admitted that the suspicion
about him was unfounded. As a matter of fact, he subsequently wrote a
denunciation of the conspiracy and a splendid defense of the Institute.
That King Philip knew what was going on was revealed by certain remarks
he let drop, such as: "Your General does not know how to govern; we need
a Spanish superior independent of the General; we have able men here
like Ribadeneira and others, etc."
At the end of 1577 it was discovered that Father Dionisio Vásquez, who
was of Jewish extraction, was disseminating these ideas by letter and by
word of mouth. The friendship that existed between him and Ribadeneira
from childhood again threw a cloud over the latter, but finally the
provincial learned from Vásquez himself that Ribadeneira knew nothing at
all about the whole affair. By that time the names of the chief plotters
were revealed, and it was also discovered that Vásquez had given one
copy of his memorial to the king and another to the Inquisition. Two
more had been shown to various other people. Vásquez alleged eight
reasons for this attempt to change the character of the Society: (1)
Because the General had to treat with so many depraved and heretical
nations, that there was a danger of contaminating the whole Society. (2)
Money and subjects were being taken from Spain to benefit other
provinces. (3) If any one was in danger of being punished by the
Inquisition it was easy to send the culprit elsewhere. (4) Rome was
governing by means of information which was frequently false. (5) There
were delays in correspondence. (6) As the General never left Rome, he
could not visit his subjects. (7) When the king asks for missionaries,
Rome often answers that there are none to send. (8) There should be a
commissary in Spain, because Spaniards are badly treated in Rome.
Astrain notes that these pretences of the danger of heresy, respect for
the Inquisition, and the needs of satisfying the king's demands for
missionaries were devised merely to win the favor of Philip. Another
conspirator whose name appears is Estrada. He is described by the
provincial as a "_novus homo_ whose conversation is pestilential."
There was no public manifestation of this spirit of schism in the first
years of Aquaviva's Generalship, though in Spain a great deal of
underhand plotting was going on between some of the discontented ones
and the Inquisition. Four persons, however, had caused grave anxiety to
their Superiors, namely: Dionisio Vásquez, Francisco de Abreo, Gonzalo
González and Enrique Enríquez. Following in their wake, came Alonso
Polanco, nephew of the famous Polanco, José de San Julian, Diego de
Santa Cruz, and a certain number of inconspicuous persons whose names it
is not necessary to give. In the background, however, there were two men
of considerable importance: Mariana, whose writings have given so much
trouble to the Society, and José de Acosta. To these Jouvancy in his
"Epitome" and Prat in his "Ribadeneira" add the name of Jerome de
Acosta, but according to Astrain, the two historians are in error both
as to the character of Jerome and his participation in the plot. He was,
indeed, suspected of being mixed up in it, but the suspicion was soon
dispelled, as in the case of Ribadeneira. Manuel López was at most a
suspect, because he was a friend and admirer of Araoz and because,
although the oldest man in the province, he gave no aid to the defenders
of the Institute. When the fight was ended, however, he pronounced for
those who had won.
Meantime Enríquez, by means of false accusations, had induced the
Inquisition to put in prison on various charges Fathers Marcen, Lavata,
López and the famous Ripalda. That tribunal also expelled others from
Valladolid and Castile, and called for the Bulls, the privileges, and
the "Ratio studiorum" of the Society. The findings of the judges were
put before the king, and the Inquisition then demanded all the copies of
the aforesaid documents that the Fathers had (Astrain, III, 376). So far
the inquisitors were safe, but they took one step more which ruined the
plot in which they were conscious or unconscious participators. Under
pain of excommunication they forbade a band of thirty Jesuit
missionaries who were on their way to Transylvania to leave Spain, the
reason being that they endangered their faith in embarking on such an
enterprise. It was the plotter, Enrique Enríquez who suggested this
piece of idiocy. When Sixtus V, who was then Pope, heard of the order,
he sent such a vigorous reprimand to the Inquisition that all the
confiscated papers were immediately restored and the imprisoned
theologians were liberated from jail after two years' confinement.
But the enemy was not yet beaten. Anonymous petitions kept pouring in
upon the Inquisition, "all of them," says Astrain, "bearing the stamp of
the atrabilious Vásquez, the rigorist González, the under-handed
Enríquez, and the sombre Abreo." Besides the old demands, a new one was
made, namely, the investigation of the Society by an official of the
Inquisition. Finally, in the provincial congregation of 1587, the hand
of Vásquez was visible when a general congregation was asked for
unanimously and a request made for a procurator for the Spanish
provinces. Meantime, Philip had been wrought upon and he supported the
petition for the visit of an inquisitor, who was none other than D.
Jerónimo Manrique, the Bishop of Cartagena, a choice which shows that
these Jesuit insurrectos were not gifted with the shrewdness usually
attributed to their brethren. For apart from the odiousness of having an
unfriendly outsider investigate, it so happened that Manrique had a very
unsavory past, and when that was called to the attention of Sixtus, the
whole foolish project collapsed of itself, and King Philip confessed his
defeat.
All this finally convinced Sixtus V that there was something radically
wrong with the Society, and he ordered the Congregation of the Holy
Office (the Roman Inquisition) to examine the Constitutions. Aquaviva
protested that it was unjust to judge the Order from anonymous writings,
many of them forgeries by a single individual; and that the faults were
alleged not with a view to correction, but to alter the Institute
radically. With regard to the proposal of a capitular government,
several objectionable consequences, he said, must follow, such as
ambition, simony, laxity of discipline, and the like, and he emphasized
the fact that Sixtus himself, only a short time before, had urged the
appointment of Italian superiors in France. He convinced the Pope, also,
that the exclusiveness advocated by the Spaniards, in refusing subjects
from other parts of the world would soon shrivel up the Spanish
provinces themselves. Finally, a capitular government in missionary
countries was a physical impossibility, and would disrupt the whole
Order. Indeed, when Cardinal Colonna mentioned the word "capitular" to
the Pope, His Holiness interjected: "I don't want chapters in the
Society. You would have one in every city and every family; and that
does not suit the system of the Jesuits."
While this was going on, letters were received from the Emperor Rodolf,
King Sigismond, the Duke of Bavaria, and other princes and distinguished
personages, entreating the Pope to make no change in the Institute. The
protest of the Duke of Bavaria especially startled the Pontiff, and he
surmised that it was a Jesuit fabrication, or that it had been asked for
or suggested. Such was really the case. The points had been drawn up by
Alber, the provincial of Germany, and the Duke had heartily approved of
them. At that, the Pope relented and declared that he never had any
intention of changing the Institute. What he chiefly desired was to
prevent certain Jesuits from interfering in politics more than was
proper--an allusion, in Sacchini's opinion, to Possevin and Auger, who
had already been retired by the General. Sixtus had apparently changed
his mind about these semi-political occupations.
Thus ended the year 1589, but the year 1590 had new troubles in store.
Up to that time, the Sacred Congregation, whose members, especially
Caraffa, were friendly to the Society, had purposely delayed sending in
a report to the Pope. He was indignant at this, and handed the case over
to four theologians. Their verdict was in conformity with the views of
Sixtus. They were more timid than the cardinals. By deduction from
Aquaviva's argument against the findings, the first complaint was about
the name: "The Society of Jesus." Then follow the various matters of
stipends, penances, the profession, the examinations for grade,
doctrines, the eighth rule of the Summary forbidding assistance to
relatives, obedience, the account of conscience, delay of profession,
fraternal correction, censors, and simple vows. Astrain gives Aquaviva's
answer to all these charges in detail (III, 465). The cardinals, without
exception, admitted Aquaviva's rebuttal, and when they gave the Pope
their verdict, he said: "All of you, even those who are of my own
creation, favor these Fathers." One thing, however, he insisted on, and
that was the change of name, and he therefore ordered Aquaviva to send
in a formal request to that effect. There was nothing to do but to
submit, and the Pope signed the Brief, but as the bell of San Andrea
summoned the novices to litanies that night, Sixtus died, and ever since
the tradition runs in Rome that if the litany bell rings when the Pope
is sick, his last hour has come. As was to be expected, the Society was
accused of having had something to do with the Pope's opportune demise.
The successor of Sixtus tore up the Brief, and the Society kept its
name.
In spite of all this, the battle continued. Clement VIII succeeded
Sixtus V on January 29, 1592, and his election was welcomed by the
Spanish rebels, for he was credited with a personal antipathy to
Aquaviva. Hence they revived Philip's interest in the matter. His
ambassador at Rome was more than friendly to the project, and it was
confidently hoped that the great Spanish Jesuit, Toletus, the friend of
the Pope, could be won over. The fact that, at the suggestion of
Aquaviva, the Pope had rendered a decision about the sacrament of
Penance which the Inquisition regarded as an infringement of its rights,
again brought that tribunal into the fray. The new plan of the
conspirators was, first, to re-assert the claims advanced by Vasquez the
year before, and failing that, to demand, at least, a commissary general
for Spain. They wrote to Philip asking for his authorization and
support. When Aquaviva was apprised of all this, he requested the king
to name anyone he chose to pass on the proposal for a commissary. Philip
picked out Loyasa, the instructor of the heir apparent; but he, after
examining the question, bluntly told the insurgents: "I do not at all
share your opinion, and I am positive that Ignatius, like St. Dominic
and St. Francis, was inspired by God in the foundation of his Order. One
Pope is enough to govern the Church, and one General ought to be enough
for the Society." Foiled in this, they induced the Pope and the king to
compel the General to call a general congregation; and in order to make
it easier to carry out their plot, they persuaded the Pope to send
Aquaviva to settle a dispute between the Dukes of Parma and Mantua, thus
keeping him out of Rome for three whole months. Toletus is accused of
having been a party to this removal of Aquaviva, but the proof adduced
is not convincing. At Naples, Aquaviva fell seriously ill, and the
Fathers demanded his recall. It was only on his return that he began to
appreciate the full extent and bearing of the movement as well as the
peril in which the Society was involved. For although all the cardinals
were on his side, yet arrayed against him were the king, the Pope and a
number of the professed. The case seemed hopeless. Finally, Toletus
informed him that the Pope insisted on a general congregation and it was
summoned for November 4, 1593.
To make matters worse, Toletus was then made cardinal; whereupon the
insurgents asked the Pope to authorize José Acosta and some of his
associates to enter the congregation--a privilege they had no claim
to--and also to have Toletus preside. The congregation began its
sessions on the day appointed. There were sixty-three professed present
among them Acosta, but Aquaviva, not Toletus, was in the chair. The
usual committee was appointed for the business of the congregation, and
Aquaviva insisted that they should begin by investigating the complaints
against his administration. They did so, and were amazed to find that
all the charges were based on false impressions, personal prejudices,
and imaginary acts. They were naturally indignant and when they reported
to the Pope, he said: "They wanted to find a culprit and they have
discovered a saint." The demands of the Spaniards were then examined.
According to Jouvancy, the province of Castile fathered them. They were
in the main: a modification of the time and manner of profession; the
abolition of grades; the introduction of a new mode of dismissal; and
the full use of the "Bulla Cruciata."
The business of the congregation was conducted as usual up to the
twenty-first decree. Philip II of Spain had asked that the members of
the Society should not avail themselves of the privileges accorded
them--first of reading prohibited books; secondly, of absolving from
heresy; thirdly, of exemption from honors and dignities outside the
Society. The twenty-first decree states that the first two royal
requests had already been acted upon. With regard to the third, it was
decreed that his majesty should be entreated to use his authority
against the acceptance of ecclesiastical and civic honors by members of
the Society. It was only in the fifty-second decree that the Society
expressed its mind on the race question, by ruling that applicants of
Hebrew and Saracenic origin were not to be admitted to the Society. It
even declared that those who were admitted through error should be
expelled if the error were discovered prior to their profession. It had
been found that out of the twenty-seven conspirators, twenty-five were
of Jewish or Moorish extraction.
The twenty-seven guilty men were denounced as "false sons, disturbers of
the common peace, and revolutionists (_architecti rerum novarum_) whose
punishment had been asked for by many provinces. The congregation,
therefore, while grievously bewailing the loss of its spiritual sons,
was nevertheless compelled in the interests of domestic union, religious
obedience, and the perpetuation of the Society, to employ a severe
remedy in the premises." After recounting their charges against the
Society, and their claim to be "the whole Society," although they were
only a few "degenerate sons" the decree denounces them and their
accomplices as having incurred the censures and penalties contained in
the Apostolic Bulls, and orders them to be expelled from the Society.
"If for one reason or another, they cannot be immediately dismissed they
were declared incapable of any office or dignity and denied all active
or passive voice." It also orders that "those suspected of being parties
to such machinations shall make a solemn oath to support the
Constitution as approved by the Popes, and to do nothing against it. If
they refuse to take the oath, or having taken it, fail to keep it, they
are to be expelled, even if old and professed."
Aquaviva had thus triumphed all along the line. He had not only saved
the Institute, but had received the power of expelling every one of the
insurgents if they refused the oath of submission. Acosta, the leading
rebel, was one of the chief sufferers; although he was the
representative of Philip II, he was struck, like his associates, by the
condemnation. The one who was punished, most, however, was Toletus, who
like Acosta had a Jewish strain, which may explain the moroseness which
the delegates remarked whenever they met him, and also his complaints
that "the proceedings of the Congregation could not have been worse ...
that it had treated Philip like a valet."
Toletus, however, continued to fight. On January 12 he advised Aquaviva
to propose the discussion of a change of assistants and a sexennial
congregation. A commission was immediately formed to wait on the Pope,
but it failed to see him; whereupon Toletus appeared on January 14 and
informed the General that the two points should be regarded as settled
without discussion. Accordingly, four days later, new assistants were
elected, but the law of the six-year convocations became a dead letter.
On January 8 Toletus had presented a document to the Pontiff urging nine
different changes in the Constitutions, adding that Philip II had asked
for them, though in reality the king had only asked that they should be
discussed. Doubtless Toletus had misunderstood. Fortunately, the Pope
would not admit all of the changes, but suggested to the congregation
four harmless ones--first, that except for the master of novices, the
term of office should be three years; second, that at the end of their
term the provincials should give an account of their administration;
third that the papal reservations should be observed; and fourth, that
the assistants should have a deciding vote. The three first were readily
accepted, and the fourth respectfully rejected. The remaining business
was then expedited, and the congregation adjourned on January 19, 1594.
The conspirators, however, had not yet been beaten. They proposed to the
Pope to appoint Aquaviva Archbishop of Capua. Of course, Aquaviva
refused, and then it was cunningly suggested that it would be an
excellent thing if the General, in the interests of unity and peace,
should visit the Spanish provinces. Philip III, who was now on the
throne, had been approached, and he wrote to the Pope to that effect.
Clement rather favored the proposition, but Henry IV of France,
Sigismund of Poland, the Archdukes Ferdinand and Matthias and other
German princes protested. Then the Pope took the matter under
consideration, but before he reached any conclusion he died, and the
plot was thus thwarted.
The one who planned this visit to Spain was the plotter Mendoza. His
purpose was simply to humiliate the General by confronting him with the
king, the greatest nobles of the realm and the Inquisition, and then to
force from him all sorts of permissions which were in direct violation
of the methods of Jesuit life. The story, as it appears in Astrain, is
simply amazing. Mendoza had actually procured from the Pope, through the
magnates of Spain, permission to receive and spend money as he wished,
to be free from all superiors, and to go and live wherever he chose.
When Aquaviva protested to the Pope that such permissions were
subversive of all religious discipline, His Holiness suggested a way out
of the difficulty, which took every one by surprise--Mendoza was made
Bishop of Cuzco in Peru. This interference of rich and powerful
outsiders in the family life of the Society, as well as the shameful way
in which some of the members sought the favor of men of great influence
in the State may explain how, after the angry fulminations of the
congregation against the Spanish plotters, it took several years to get
even a few of them out of the Society.
The dispute, known as the "De Auxiliis," which raged with great
theological fury for many years, had for its object the reconciliation
of Divine grace with human freedom. "The Dominicans maintained that the
difficulty was solved by their theory of physical premotion and
predetermination, whereas the Jesuits found the explanation of it in the
_Scientia media_ whereby God knows in the objective reality of things
what a man would do in any circumstances in which he might be placed.
The Dominicans declared that this was conceding too much to free will,
and that it tended towards Pelagianism, while the Jesuits complained
that the Dominicans did not sufficiently safeguard human liberty and
hence seemed to lean towards the doctrines of Calvin" (Astrain). It was
not until 1588, that Luis de Molina, whose name is chiefly connected
with the doctrine of the _Scientia media_, got into the fight. Domingo
Ibánez, the Dominican professor at Salamanca, was his chief antagonist.
The debates continued for five years, and by that time there were public
disturbances in several Spanish cities. Clement VIII then took the
matter in his own hands, and forbade any further discussion till the
Holy See had decided one way or the other. The opinions of universities
and theologians were asked for, but by 1602 no conclusion had been
arrived at, and between that year and 1605, sixty-eight sessions had
been held with no result. Thus it went on till 1607, when the Pope
decided that both parties might hold their own opinions, but that each
should refrain from censuring the other. In 1611, by order of the Pope,
the Inquisition issued a decree forbidding the publication of any book
concerning efficacious grace until further action by the Holy See. The
prohibition remained in force during the greater part of the seventeenth
century. The principal theologians who appeared on the Jesuit side of
this controversy were Toletus, Bellarmine, Lessius, Molina, Padilla,
Valencia, Arubal, Bastida and Salas.
While these constitutional and theological wars were at their height a
discussion of quite another kind was going on in the immediate
surroundings of the General. It was to determine what amount of prayer
and penitential exercises should be the normal practice of the Society.
Maggio and Alarcón, two of the assistants, were for long contemplations
and great austerities, while Hoffæus and Emmanuel Rodrigues advocated
more sobriety in those two matters. Aquaviva decided for a middle
course, declaring that the Society was not established especially for
prayer and mortification, but, on the other hand, that it could not
endure without a moderate use of these two means of Christian
perfection. As this was coincident with the Spanish troubles, these five
holy men were like the old Roman senators who were speculating on the
improvement of the land which was still occupied by the Carthaginian
armies. Meantime, another storm was sweeping over the Society in France.
When Henry IV entered Paris in triumph, his former enemies, the Sorbonne
and the parliament, hastened to pay him homage; but something had to be
done to make the public forget their previous attitude in his regard.
The usual device was resorted to of denouncing the Jesuits. A complaint
was manufactured against the College of Clermont, about the infringement
of someone's property rights, and the rector was haled to court to
answer the charge. The orator for the plaintiffs was Antoine Arnauld,
the father of the famous Antoine and Angélique, who were to be, later
on, conspicuous figures in the Jansenist heresy. Absolutely disregarding
the point at issue, Arnauld launched out in a fierce diatribe against
the Jesuits in general; "those trumpets of war," he called them, "those
torches of sedition; those roaring tempests that are perpetually
disturbing the calm heavens of France. They are Spaniards, enemies of
the state, the authors of all the excesses of the League, whose
Bacchanalian and Catalinian orgies were held in the Jesuit college and
church. The Society is the workshop of Satan, and is filled with
traitors and scoundrels, assassins of kings and public parricides. Who
slew Henry III? The Jesuits. Ah, my King!" he cried, "when I contemplate
thy _bloody shirt_, tears flow from my eyes and choke my utterance." And
yet every one knew that it was his own clients, the Sorbonne and the
parliament, who were the centre of all "the orgies of the League"; that
it was they who had glorified the assassin of Henry III as a hero, and
made the anniversary of his murder a public holiday; that it was they
who had heaped abuse on Henry IV, and had sworn that he never should
ascend the throne of France, even if he were absolved from heresy by the
Pope, and had returned to the Faith. The travesty of truth in this
discourse is so glaring that Frenchmen often refer to it as "the second
original sin of the Arnauld family," the source, namely, of its
ineradicable habit of misrepresentation.
A short time after this, Jean Chastel struck Henry IV with a knife and
cut him slightly on the lip. Immediately everyone recalled Arnauld's
furious denunciation of the Jesuits, and a descent was made on the
college. A scrap of paper was conveniently found in the library,
incriminating the custodian, but the volumes upon volumes of
denunciations which had been uttered in the university and in
parliament, and which were piled upon the library shelves, were not
discovered. The scrap of paper sufficed. The college was immediately
confiscated, the inmates expelled from France, and after Jean Chastel
had been torn asunder by four horses, Father Guéret was stretched on the
rack and Father Guignard was hanged. This occurred at the end of
December, 1594.
Up to this Henry IV had not yet been reconciled to the Church, for the
Pope doubted his sincerity and refused to withdraw the excommunication
which the king had incurred at the time of his relapse. At last,
however, owing to the persistency of Father Possevin and of Cardinal
Toletus, he was absolved from his heresy, and could be acknowledged,
with a safe conscience by all Catholics, as the legitimate King of
France. The action of Toletus in this matter is all the more remarkable
from the fact that he was a Spaniard, and in espousing the cause of
Henry he was turning his back on his own sovereign, who was using all
his power to prevent the reconciliation. This service was publicly
recognized by Henry who thanked the Cardinal for his courageous act, and
when Toletus died elaborate obsequies were held by the king's orders in
the cathedrals of Paris and Rheims. Of course, the appeal of the
banished Jesuits was then readily listened to by the king. He restored
Clermont to them; gave them other colleges, including the royal
establishment of La Flèche, and was forever after their devoted helper
and friend. It must have been a great consolation for Father Aquaviva,
during the battle he was waging and from which he was to emerge
triumphant, to be told of this support of Henry; and also to hear of the
welcome the Society had received in loyal Belgium in spite of the
persistent animosity of Louvain. Almost every city had been asking for a
college.
About this time, the Jesuits lost a devoted friend in the person of St.
Charles Borromeo, who died in 1584. It is a calumny to say that he had
turned against them and had taken the seminary of Milan from their
direction. It was they themselves who had asked to be relieved of the
responsibility, for he had so multiplied their colleges in his diocese,
that it was impossible to give the seminary the attention it required.
It is true that he was grievously offended by one individual Jesuit who
injected himself into a controversy that was going on between the
governor and the archbishop, and assailed the great prelate in the
pulpit of the very church which had been given to the Society by
Borromeo; but Aquaviva quickly brought him to the cardinal's feet to ask
forgiveness, and then suspended him for two years from preaching. That
incident, however, in no way diminished the affection of the saint for
the Society. His last Mass was said in the Jesuit novitiate which he had
founded, and he died in the arms of his Jesuit confessor, Father Adorno,
two days afterwards.
Seven years later, on June 21, 1591, another saint died, the young
Aloysius Gonzaga. Borromeo knew him well, and had given him his first
Communion. This boy saint was not only an angel of purity, but also a
martyr of charity, for he died of a fever he had caught from the victims
of a plague whom he was attending during a pestilence that devastated
Italy. The venerable Bellarmine was his confessor and spiritual father,
and, later, when he was about to expire, he said to those around him:
"Bury me at the feet of Aloysius Gonzaga."
There was still another trouble before Aquaviva, for while the
disturbances were going on in France and Spain, a storm arose in Venice.
The Society had been expelled from the republic; but it is to its credit
to have been hated by the government that ruled Venice at that time. The
republic had become embroiled with the Holy See, and war was imminent.
The Pope put the city under interdict, and as the Jesuits who were
established there submitted to the injunction, they were all exiled;
their property was confiscated, and they were forbidden ever to return.
This treatment was in keeping with the traditions of the government of
"a republic," as some one had said, "which in reality was a monarchy
tempered by assassination." Hallam (Hist. of Europe during the Middle
Ages, iii, 144) insists that "it had all the pomp of a monarchy; and
its commerce with the Mohammedans had deadened its sense of religious
antipathy." Its action in this instance is ascribed to the influence of
the Servite friar, Paolo Sarpi, whom the apostate Bishop de Dominis and
Duplessis-Mornay, the chief of the French Huguenots at that time,
describe as "another Calvin." He was in league with the Dutch and
English to create a schism by defying the Pope, and to convert Venice
into a Protestant republic. He is also the author of the virulent and
calumnious "History of the Council of Trent."
Henry IV of France interested himself in this quarrel, and finally
succeeded in having the papal and Venetian representatives meet to
discuss their grievances. After protracted negotiations, the republic
finally came to terms, but on one condition, namely that the Jesuits
should not be allowed to return. As both the Pope and Henry absolutely
refused to admit that clause, a deadlock ensued, until Aquaviva declared
himself unwilling to allow any such difficulty to stand in the way of
reconciliation: and as a consequence, the Society did not return to
Venice until after fifty years of exile. Henry, however, had his revenge
on Sarpi. He intercepted a letter written by a minister of Geneva to a
Calvinist in Paris which revealed the fact that the Doge and several
senators had already made arrangements to introduce the Reformation into
Venice; and that Sarpi and his associate, Fulgenzio, had formed a secret
society of more than a thousand persons, among whom were three hundred
patricians, who were merely awaiting the signal to abandon the Church
(Daru, Hist. de la république de Venise). The letter was read in the
Senate, and many a guilty face grew pale. That was the end of Sarpi's
influence. It was, probably also Henry IV who prevented him from going
to England when the friar wrote to Casaubon to provide him a home there
in case he had to leave Venice. In view of all that Henry IV had done
for the Society, the sixth general congregation voted unanimously and
enthusiastically to establish a French assistancy in the Society as an
expression of gratitude to the monarch.
In Mexico the storm evoked by Palafox did not, it is true, result in
expulsions, confiscations and executions as elsewhere, nevertheless it
was deadly in its effects; and a century later it furnished the
Jansenists of Europe with an exhaustless supply of calumnies against the
Society. Its arraignment by Palafox was particularly efficacious because
it expressed the mind of a distinguished functionary of the Church who
was held by some to be a saint and whose canonization was insisted on by
the politicians and nobility of Spain.
The character of this extraordinary personage has always been a mystery,
and perhaps it would have been better or, at least, more comfortable to
have left it in its shroud instead of revealing the truth about his
life. He tells us himself in his "Vida interior" that his university
days were wild; but though the text is explicit enough, it may be a
pious exaggeration. In 1628 occurred what he calls his conversion. He
made a general confession and determined to embrace an ecclesiastical
career. His preparation for it was amazingly brief, and we find him soon
occupying the post of grand almoner of the Princess Mary, whom he
accompanied to Germany. On his return to Spain, he resumed his
occupation as fiscal, and in 1639 was consecrated Bishop of Puebla in
Mexico and, in the following year, was sent to America with the most
extravagant plenipotentiary powers. Besides being Bishop of Puebla, he
was simultaneously administrator of the vacant see of the city of Mexico
and visitor of the _audiencia_ of the colony, with the absolute right
to depose any civil official whom he judged unsuitable.
He did not wait long to exercise his power, and in 1641, to the
consternation of everyone, he flung out of office no less a personage
than the viceroy himself who was universally esteemed for his upright
and virtuous life. By this extraordinary act, Palafox became practically
viceroy and captain general, while retaining his ecclesiastical
dignities. In a few months, however, the new viceroy, Salvatierra,
arrived. Palafox was soon to clash with him also, by blocking all the
official work of the audiencia; holding up despatches, delaying
decisions, absenting himself from the city, etc. For five years
complaints against him poured into Spain but without effecting any
change. Salvatierra even accused him of malversation in office,
particularly in its finances and added that his whole occupation seemed
to consist in writing the Life of St. Peter. His ecclesiastical
government was no less disorderly. To gain the favor of those around him
he transformed the Indian missions into parishes and put them in charge
of priests who were absolutely ignorant both of the habits and language
of the natives. The motive back of this change was that as mere mission
posts the Indian settlements paid no tithes.
During all this time he continued to proclaim himself a friend of the
Jesuits, but in 1641 when a canon of the cathedral wanted to make over a
farm to the College of Vera Cruz, he was forbidden to do so under pain
of excommunication unless the property was made subject to tithes. When
the canon submitted the case to the audiencia he of course, lost it,
because Palafox was the visitor of that tribunal. A further appeal was
then made to the council of the Indies, but after two years of
litigation the case was dropped without a decision. In the course of
this contest, Palafox wrote in his plea that the Jesuits were
enormously wealthy, while the cathedral of Puebla was destitute of
resources. When Father Calderón refuted these assertions, the bishop was
wrought up to fury and laid down as a diocesan rule that, under pain of
excommunication, no property transfers could be made to religious orders
unless this tithe clause was inserted, and he enjoined that the sick and
dying should be admonished of that censure. He followed this up by
sending an order to all the Jesuits to deliver up their faculties for
inspection within twenty-four hours, under penalty of excommunication.
Their reply was that they would have to refer the matter to the
provincial. This was, according to Astrain, a grave act of imprudence on
the part of the Fathers, and such, later on, was the ruling of the Roman
Congregation and of the Pope himself.
Of course, in the rigor of the law the bishop had an absolute right to
demand the faculties of all the priests of his diocese, but in the
concrete it is hard to blame the action of the Fathers in this instance.
They did not refuse, but merely wanted time to lay the case before their
superior. Moreover, the action of the bishop was altogether out of the
ordinary. Up to that time, his own confessor was a Jesuit, and faculties
had been issued by the bishop to several others of the Society; during
his incumbency he had employed them in various missions of the diocese,
he had invited them to preach in his cathedral; and, indeed, they had
been using their faculties to confess and preach ever since 1572. It is
true that some of their original privileges had been modified or
curtailed, but in these two principal functions no radical change had
been made. Might they not then have thought that, in view of what the
bishop had already done both in civil and ecclesiastical matters, he was
mentally deranged? The average man of the world would have arrived at
that conclusion.
At all events, the faculties were not forthcoming within the twenty-four
hours, and all the Jesuit priests of Puebla not only found themselves
dishonored and disgraced by being held up to the people as
excommunicated, but by this act of the bishop doubt was thrown upon the
validity of all the absolutions they had given in the administration of
the sacrament of Penance. Astrain tells us that Father Legaspi attempted
to preach in the Jesuit church, and when forbidden to do so by a
messenger from the bishop's palace, refused to obey, but apart from the
fact that this would be in absolute contradiction with the traditional
instincts and training of any Jesuit, Astrain himself relates in the
following chapter that the Roman Congregation which examined the whole
miserable quarrel decided that Legaspi's sermon was delivered before and
not after the prohibition. Recourse was then had to a privilege accorded
to the Spanish colonies of constituting a commission of judges to
consider and decide the case. This also was subsequently condemned by
the Roman Congregation and by Innocent X, but on the other hand,
communication with Rome was difficult in those days, and the course
entered upon was taken with the approval of the heads of other religious
orders, of the viceroy and of the _cabildo_ or mayor. It is true that
efforts should have been made to placate the angry prelate, but the
documents show that the most humble supplications had been made to him
only to be repulsed with abuse.
It would have been futile to refer the case to the _audiencia_, for
Palafox controlled it absolutely. Moreover, it was urged that the plea
presented to the commission did not regard merely the wholesale
suspension and excommunication, but other grievances as well. There
were twenty-nine in all. The commission brought in a verdict against the
bishop, but he refused to recognize the authority and even
excommunicated the members of the court who, with what Father General
Caraffa described as an "exorbitancia grande," had excommunicated the
prelate. Then the whole city was in an uproar and Palafox rode through
the throngs of the excited populace conjuring them to keep the peace,
but at the same time preventing it by proceeding to the cathedral, and,
amid the most lugubrious ceremonies and in full pontificals,
excommunicating all his opponents. The Mexican Inquisition now
intervened and enjoined silence on all parties. Salvatierra, the
viceroy, also helped to quell the disturbance. Nevertheless, on June 6,
Palafox issued another proclamation declaring that his enemies had been
assembling arms in their houses, and were bent on getting control of the
country. He again made a public appearance in the streets of Mexico, but
two days afterwards he submitted the whole matter to the viceroy.
Salvatierra then implored him with the greatest respect and kindness to
restore tranquillity and peace to the distracted colony, but on June 15,
Palafox disappeared from the city; and no one knew whither he had gone.
It was officially reported later on, that he had betaken himself first
to the _hacienda_ of Juan de Vergus, but after two days had disappeared
again. For two months his whereabouts could not be ascertained, but in a
letter to the Pope, he described himself as wandering for ten days in
the forest and mountains without shelter or food, and exposed to death
from serpents and wild beasts. He called himself another Athanasius.
Finally he returned to the original _hacienda_ and remained there until
November. Before his departure, he had empowered the _cabildo_ to have
the diocese administered by three ecclesiastics whom he designated; but
one of them was imprisoned by the viceroy, and the two others refused to
serve. Whereupon, the _cabildo_ called a meeting at the city hall.
Alonzo Salazar de Baraona presided and the Jesuits were ordered to
display their faculties, which they did; they were then declared
rightful ministers of the sacraments.
During his retirement Palafox had received two letters from Spain, one
deposing him from his office of visitor, and another announcing the
transfer of Salvatierra to Peru. The first was the reverse of pleasant,
but the second was a source of great satisfaction for, if we are to
believe Salvatierra, Palafox had aspirations for the viceregal office.
Possibly with that in view, he willingly assented to the conditions on
which he was to be allowed to re-enter his diocese, namely to regard as
binding all that had been done in his absence. It was fully nine months
before Salvatierra left Mexico, and during all that time there was peace
in Puebla; but hostilities were resumed immediately afterwards. Palafox
refused to be bound by his contract with Salvatierra; he declared the
acts of the commission to be null and void, reasserted the invalidity of
the Jesuit faculties, and put three of his own canons in jail. In
September, he received a brief from the Pope which he regarded as a
justification of all that had been done. In the main, the document
asserted the fundamental right of the bishop to examine the faculties of
the priests and condemned the proceedings of the commission. Whereupon
twelve of the Fathers submitted their faculties to the bishop. But that
did not satisfy him. He insisted on the Jesuits appearing in public in a
penitential garb, as at an auto-da-fé, and receiving from him a solemn
absolution from their excommunication. He also made it a matter of
confession for the faithful to have been absolved by Jesuits or to have
listened to their sermons.
From this odious ruling an appeal was taken to the royal council;
whereupon Palafox despatched three letters to the Pope. The first was
about the parochial rights of the other religious orders; the second
complaining of the silver mines, vast _haciendas_ and wealth of the
Jesuits, and the third consisting of fifty-eight pages of the most
atrocious calumnies ever written by a Catholic, and asking finally that
they should be made like other religious orders with choir, cloister,
etc. Ten years later, the General of the Discalced Carmelites inquired
of Palafox why he wrote these letters. "I did so," he says, "because I
was incensed against the Jesuits for not treating me with proper
respect, but I am surprised that I have lost their affection and was not
aware of it till now." At last, wearied of it all, Philip IV ordered him
to return to Spain immediately, but he obeyed in a very leisurely
fashion. In Rome, the case dragged on for four more years and finally a
verdict was rendered affirming among other things that the Fathers had
been properly provided with faculties, and had ceased to preach and hear
confessions when ordered to do so. The only censure they received was
for having convoked the commission to judge the case in the absence of
the bishop. The trouble had lasted for sixteen years, but it created a
deep prejudice against the Society a century later.