THE FINAL BLOW
Ganganelli--Political plotting at the Election--Bernis,
Aranda Aubeterre--The Zelanti--Election of Clement XIV--
Renewal of Jesuit Privileges by the new Pope--Demand of the
Bourbons for a universal Suppression--The Three Years Struggle
--Fanaticism of Charles III--Menaces of Schism--Moñino--
Maria Theresa--Spoliations in Italy--Signing the Brief--
Imprisonment of Father Ricci and the Assistants--Silence and
Submission of the Jesuits to the Pope's Decree.
As early as 1768, the Bourbon courts let it be known that they would
make a formal demand for the suppression of the Society throughout
Christendom. On January 14 of that year, Cardinal Torregiani wrote to
the papal nuncio at Madrid as follows: "His Holiness is horrified at the
attitude of the king, and indignant that the demand should be
accompanied by threats to force his hand, so as to wring from him a
concession which is in violation of divine, natural and ecclesiastical
law. If any mention of it is made to you again, dismiss immediately the
person who dares to suggest it." That stinging rebuke, however, did not
halt the stubborn Charles, and in the January of 1769 the coalition
began its attack. First came the Spanish representative who presented
himself for an audience on the eighteenth. The Pope received him with
dignified reserve; gave expression to the intense pain caused by the
request, and then, bursting into tears, withdrew. On the twentieth and
twenty-second respectively, Orsini, representing Naples, made his
appearance and after him Aubeterre, on behalf of France. They were both
abruptly dismissed. The French document was especially insulting. It
advised the Pope to admit the demand on the ground that it was based on
a sincere and well-informed zeal for the progress of religion, the
interest of the Roman Church, and the peace of Christendom. The use of
the expression "Roman" Church was an evident hint at schism.
On January 25, a formal reply was sent to the three courts, informing
them that "the Pope could not explain the deplorable audacity they had
displayed in adding to the sorrows that already overwhelmed the Church,
a new anguish the only purpose of which was to torture the conscience
and distress the soul of His Holiness. An impartial posterity would
judge if such acts could be regarded as a new proof of that filial love
which these sovereigns boast of having for His Holiness personally, and
an assurance of that attachment which they pretend to show for the Holy
See." On January 28, Cardinal Negroni told the ambassadors: "You are
digging the grave of the Holy Father." The prophecy was almost
immediately fulfilled, for on February 2 Clement XIII died of a stroke
of apoplexy. He had officiated at the ceremonies of that day, and had
shown no sign of illness. The blow was a sudden one, and there is no
doubt that this joint act of the Bourbon kings had caused his death. De
Ravignan does not hesitate to describe him as a martyr who died in
defence of the rights of the Church. He is blamed by some for "his lack
of foresight in not yielding to the exigencies of the times." But there
were other "exigencies of the times" besides those formulated by the men
"who knew not the secrets of God, nor hoped for the wages of justice,
nor esteemed the honor of holy souls," and the Pope's foresight was not
limited by the horizons of Pombal, Choiseul and Charles III. "His
pontificate," as has been well said, "affords the spectacle of a saint
clad in moral strength, contending alone against the powers of the
world. Such a spectacle is an acquisition forever." For it should not be
forgotten that those arrayed against him in this fight were not aiming
merely at the annihilation of the Society of Jesus. That was only a
secondary consideration. Their purpose was to destroy the Church, and in
its defence Pope Clement XIII died.
A new Pope was now to be elected and the alarming influence wielded by
the statesmen of Europe in ecclesiastical affairs now assumed
proportions which seemed to menace the destruction of the Church itself.
In his "Clément XIII et Clément XIV" (p. 552) de Ravignan gives an
extract from Theiner which is startling. In 1769, that is before the
election, we find all the cardinals tabulated as "good;" "bad;"
"indifferent;" "doubtful;" "worst;" "null." Their ages are given; their
characters, their political tendencies. Among those marked "good" is
Ganganelli; Rezzonico, the nephew of Clement XIII is in the category of
the "worst;" the Cardinal of York is "null." There are eleven who are
labelled "_papabili_," ten to be excluded and fourteen to be avoided. It
is even settled who is to be secretary of State. Weekly instructions in
this matter were sent from the court of Spain to its agents at Rome,
whose motto was: "nec turpe est quod dominus jubet--nothing is base if
the king orders it." They were at that time precisely the kind of men
that the implacable Charles III needed to sustain him in his iniquitous
measure: unprincipled clerics like Sales, or savages like Moniño, or
Aspuru, who could write: "What matter that the charges are not proved?
The accused has been condemned. We have not to establish his guilt." As
for the flippant Bernis and the infidel Aubeterre, they were good enough
for the royal debauchee, Louis XV. Aubeterre had been a soldier, was
now a diplomat and had lost his faith by contact with the revolting
indecencies of the regency, while Bernis, says Carayon, was "a
distinguished type of French vanity who talked much, schemed continually
and fancied he controlled the conclave though he was only a fly on the
wheel. He was not ashamed to admit that he owed his red hat to la
Pompadour."
Bernis' correspondence with his government is valuable not only in
showing how unscrupulous were the methods of coercion employed but in
revealing the ultimate purpose of the conspirators, viz. the
establishment of state churches in their several kingdoms. He and de
Luynes were instructed to insist that the new Pope should: first, annul
the Brief of Clement XIII against Parma; secondly, recognize the
independent sovereignty of the Prince; thirdly, relinquish Avignon and
the Comtat Venaissin to France, and Beneventum to Sicily; fourthly,
exile Cardinal Torregiani, the prime minister of Clement XIII; fifthly,
completely abolish the Society of Jesus; secularize its members, and
expel Father Ricci, the General, from Rome. They let it be known that
there would be no backing down on these five points.
It was chiefly to secure the suppression of the Society that the fight
was to be made. The other matters could be left, if necessary, for
future adjustment. If every other means failed, intimidation was to be
resorted to. Indeed, as a preparation, veiled threats began to be heard
from several quarters. Thus, for instance, Louis XV put his name to the
following insulting letter: "My sincere and constant wish is," he said,
"that the Barque of Peter should be entrusted to a pilot who is
enlightened enough to appreciate the necessity of having the Head of the
Church remain in the most perfect harmony with all the sovereigns of
the Roman Faith; and of being wise enough to avoid every inconsiderate
measure prompted by indiscreet and extravagant zeal; in brief, one who
will shape his policy by the rules of moderation, prudence and sweetness
in keeping with divine wisdom and human politics." Such language from
the "Most Christian King" was an outrage on the memory of Clement XIII;
and the words "Roman Faith" contained, as on a previous occasion, a
threat of schism. Schoell, the Protestant historian, says that "the
formation of State Churches in the three kingdoms was clearly the avowed
purpose of these plotters."
The "Zelanti" were in the majority, but that difficulty was soon
disposed of by the veto power which had been granted to the Catholic
sovereigns. Making full use of it, they shamelessly forbade the
consideration of any candidate who was suspected of being unfriendly to
them, with the result that the number of eligible candidates was
speedily reduced to eleven; and as most of these latter were old or
infirm they could not be even considered by the electors. At this point,
Bernis protested against being excessive in the eliminations. Finally
there were only two cardinals who could be considered _papabili_:
Ganganelli and Stoppani.
On March 7, 1769, instructions arrived from Madrid emphatically
insisting that the election of no Pope would be recognized who would not
first bind himself to grant the five points insisted upon by the Bourbon
kings, but when the two Spanish cardinals at Rome represented to Charles
III that such a proposal to the electors would involve serious risks,
the obstinate king insisted, nevertheless, that he would yield on three
of the points, but that he would have to exact absolutely as a condition
of election that the new Pope would promise to cancel the previous
Pontiff's action with regard to the Duke of Parma, and also suppress
the whole Society of Jesus. He wanted the conclave to pass a decree to
that effect. Even in the Parma affair, he was willing to relent, because
as Clement XIII was dead, his ruling might be considered as having
lapsed, but as for the Society of Jesus, nothing would satisfy him
except its absolute extinction. That much was due, he said, to the three
powerful monarchs on whom the Church depended for support. On the other
hand, as it would not be proper to compromise the reputation of these
kings by letting it be known that such a deal was being made, for it
might happen to fail; it was thought better not to give any precise
orders, but to leave to the discretion of those who were on the spot to
determine what means should be employed for bringing about the desired
results.
The project of getting a distinct decree from the conclave in the sense
of the King of Spain was abandoned, but while the political cardinals
would not hear of exacting a written promise, the ambassadors who were
working on the outside, openly avowed that they had no scruples about
it. Indeed, Aubeterre, the French ambassador, wrote to Choiseul in
France complaining that he and his fellow-diplomats felt hurt that their
proposal should be rejected for moral reasons, especially as they had
secretly consulted an excellent canonist, who ruled that there would be
no harm in imposing on the new Pontiff the obligation of fulfilling the
contract inside of a year, dating from the day of his election. Not only
was it permissible, he said, but, in the circumstances, it was
imperatively urgent for the good of the Church. "The excellent canonist"
here referred to was Azpuru, the Spanish ambassador, but as Cardinals
Orsini, Bernis and de Luynes insisted that such a contract would be
simoniacal, they were informed that if an unacceptable Pope was elected
there would be an immediate rupture of relations with the Holy See and
the representatives of the three Powers would withdraw from Rome. They
were further told that it was hoped that the fanatics, or Zelanti, would
not drive them to such an extremity. D'Aubeterre who voiced the opinion
of his associates went so far as to say, that any election which had not
been arranged beforehand with the court would not be recognized.
Finally, after the conclave had been in session from February 13 to May
19, Cardinal Ganganelli was elected Pope and took the name of Clement
XIV. He was considered "acceptable," especially by Spain. According to
Cordara, however, his elevation to the pontifical throne was not due to
the influence or the manipulations of the Spanish cardinals but was
brought about as follows:--"From the beginning of the conclave two or
three votes were deposited in his favor, but he was never seriously
thought of as Pope. Indeed, Cardinal Castelli, whose learning and piety
gave him great influence in the Sacred College, was strongly opposed to
him. Suddenly, however, he changed his opinion and declared that, having
considered the matter more thoroughly, he was convinced that in the
actual circumstances, no one was better fitted for the post than
Ganganelli. From that moment, those who had been opposed to him regarded
him favorably. Even Rezzonico, the nephew of Clement XIII, who had many
reasons to vote against him said he would take the opinion of the
majority of the cardinals. Hence the only one against him was Orsini who
said that "the Franciscan was a Jesuit in disguise." He was, therefore,
after the fight had raged for 100 days, elected by forty-six out of
forty-seven votes. The forty-seventh was his own, which he cast in favor
of Rezzonico. It is not true that he had made a promise to suppress the
Society in case of election. Azpuru, the Spanish agent, wrote on May 8:
"No one has gone so far as to propose to anyone to give a written or
verbal promise"; and after May 13, he added: "Ganganelli neither made a
promise nor refused it." Unfortunately some of his written words were
interpreted as implying it.
Ganganelli was born in the town of Sant' Arcangelo, near Rimini, on
October 31, 1705, and was baptised Giovanni Vincenzo Antonio, but took
the name of Lorenzo when he became a Conventual of St. Francis. His life
as a friar was characterized by piety and intense application to study.
He was noted for his admiration of everything pertaining to the Society
of Jesus, and, indeed, Pope Clement XIII when making him a cardinal
said, "there is now a Jesuit in the Sacred College in the habit of a
Franciscan." But "the purple seemed to change him," says Cordara, "and
from that out he was more reserved in his manifestations of friendship."
As Pope he was as simple in his way of life as when living with his
community; he was gentle, affable, kind, rarely ruffled, never
precipitate and never carried away by inconsiderate zeal. He would have
made an admirable Pope in better times. But when he was given control of
the Barque of Peter a wild storm was sweeping over the world. Venice,
Parma, Naples, France, Spain and Portugal were arrayed against him--some
of them threatening separation from the Church. Austria, the only
Catholic government that remained, observed neutrality at first, but
finally went to the wrong side. In brief, a fierce and united
anti-religious element dominated all Catholic Europe, and the rest was
Protestant.
Of course, immediately after his election, felicitations rained upon
him, but as de Ravignan expresses it, "they were like flowers on the
head of the victim that was to be immolated." Indeed, even in the
congratulations harsh notes were heard, as when France expressed its
hope that the Holy See would show more condescension to the powers than
usual, and when Spain "urgently called the attention of His Holiness to
certain petitions which had been presented to him." The Spanish
ambassador, Azpuru, reminded him in the very first audience that
application had already been made to his predecessor for the suppression
of the Jesuits. The representatives of France, Portugal and Naples
chanted the same dirge. Before three months had elapsed, there was an
explosion that shook Christendom. Following an accepted custom, the Pope
issued the septennial Brief of indulgences in favor of the missionaries
"to bestow the treasures of heavenly blessings on those who, to our
knowledge, are laboring with indefatigable zeal for the salvation of
souls. We include among these fervent apostles, the Religious of the
Society of Jesus, and especially those whom our beloved son, Lorenzo
Ricci, is to assign this year and afterwards, in various provinces of
the Society, to that work; and we most certainly desire to promote and
increase by these spiritual favors the piety and the active and
enterprising zeal of those Religious."
It was a thunderbolt. Fierce protests were made in Spain, Naples, Parma
and France. Choiseul, who, up to that time, had been suave in his
malice, lost his temper completely and ordered the Ambassador Bernis not
only to make a public demand for the suppression of the Society but to
order the Pope to begin it inside of two months. "This Pope is trifling
with us," he said; "and if he does not come to terms he can consider all
relations with France at an end." He became grossly insulting and
declared that "he had enough of this monkery;" he would upset the plans
of the _Fratacci_; and annihilate his Roman finesse. "A monk was always
a monk," he said, "and it was very hard for an Italian monk to be honest
and frank in business matters." Choiseul's varnish of courtesy had been
all rubbed off by the incident, and he wanted to know "who were going to
win in the fight? the kings or the Jesuits? If I were ambassador at
Rome," he wrote to Bernis, "I would be ashamed to see Father Ricci the
antagonist of my master."
Bernis, Cardinal though he was, meekly replied: "Of course the kings
must win, but only the Pope can make them win. However, he has to do it
according to the prescriptions of canon law, and must save his own
reputation as well as that of the clergy. Moreover, as he is a temporal
sovereign, he has to consider the courts of Vienna, Turin and Poland,
and all that takes time. Personally, he means to keep the promise
already given to the three crowns to suppress the Society, and has shown
his mind on that point by public acts against the Fathers. He will renew
the promise explicitly and immediately, in a letter written in his own
hand to the King of Spain. He is not feeble or false as you seem to
think. Time will show that such is his purpose. But, first, the way to
lose the battle with the Jesuit General is to begin now. The Pope cannot
and will not do it without preparation. Secondly, France and Spain must
agree on the time and manner of arriving at the extinction of the
Jesuits. Thirdly, it would be wiser to restrict the suppression to the
Papal States, and not attempt it in countries that are favorable to the
Society. Fourthly, a good preliminary would be to forbid the reception
of novices, as the Pope has already done in his own dominions.
Marefoschi and I put that into his head. Fifthly, I also proposed the
seizure of the archives, the appointment of a Vicar General, to whom
Father Ricci will render an account of his administration."
Bernis' temporising, however, only exasperated the foes of the Society,
especially Charles III. Nevertheless, he succeeded in inducing the Pope
to write to Louis XV on September 30, and in this communication a
promise was made to do all the king wanted. But that was not enough for
Charles. To force the issue, he ordered all the Jesuit property in Spain
to be put up at auction, and a copy of the decree was sent to the Pope.
That was on November 8, and on November 13, a joint letter was sent by
the three powers requesting Clement to publish a Brief _motu proprio_
that is on his own initiative, as if they had had nothing to do with it,
approving all that the Bourbon princes had done against the Society; and
also to send to their majesties the plan he proposed to follow in
carrying out its complete suppression. Clement humbly submitted to the
outrage, and seven days later, Bernis was able to write to Choiseul:
"His Holiness has renewed in the strongest manner the two promises he
had made to the Bourbon kings with regard to the Brief approving the
missionaries, and the plan to suppress the Jesuit Order. He has
commissioned me to positively assure the ministers of the powers on that
point."
Spain wanted even more than that; and on November 22d, Azpuru told the
Pope that if he did not send a manuscript letter to the king promising
the suppression, extreme measures would be resorted to, and the rupture
of relations which had been begun in 1767 and which was so disastrous to
the Church in Spain would be carried to its limit. He was not
exaggerating, and the nuncio at Madrid wrote that the king was so set on
his purpose, that they did not know what mad thing he might do to gain
his point. The general impression was that Charles was on the verge of
insanity.
To quiet him, the Pope wrote, on November 30, to say positively that he
would carry out the will of the courts. "We have gathered all the
documents," he said, "that are needed for writing the _motu proprio_
agreed upon; so as to justify to the whole world, the wise conduct of
your majesty in expelling the Jesuits, as troublesome and turbulent
subjects. As we are carrying on our government, unaided, although
crushed by the weight and multiplicity of questions that have to be
settled, you will understand that it is not forgetfulness but merely the
unavoidable delay required to bring this important matter to a
successful issue." Indeed at that time Clement had secluded himself from
everyone. He was in constant fear of being poisoned, and had his food
prepared by a Cordelier lay-brother. "We beg Your Majesty," he
continued, "to put your entire confidence in us, for we have fully
resolved to act, and we are preparing to give to the public
incontestable proofs of our sincerity. We shall submit to the wisdom and
intelligence of Your Majesty a plan for the total extinction of this
Society; and Your Majesty will receive it shortly. We shall not cease to
give genuine proofs of our attachment and our veneration for Your
Majesty to whom in the plenitude of our paternal affection we give our
apostolic benediction" (De Ravignan, "Clément XIII et Clément XIV," I,
295).
Bernis gave himself the credit of having got the Pope to write this
letter, and said that now: "His Holiness could not escape carrying out
his promise. He will be forced to do it, in spite of his unwillingness,
for he knows that the king is too intelligent not to publish the letter,
and the Pope will be disgraced if he does not keep his word"
(Saint-Priest, p. 131). Thus six months after his election, he was bound
by a written and absolute promise to suppress the Society; though he
was continually saying "_questa supressione mi darà la morte_" (this
suppression will kill me). At this stage of the proceedings little
Naples was becoming obstreperous. Tanucci had seized the Greek College
and expelled the Jesuits. He then claimed the property of all religious
communities, and when remonstrated with, he replied that "he was going
to keep on thwarting every order that came from Rome, until the Society
of Jesus was abolished." In 1770 the Pope cancelled the excommunication
of the Duke of Parma to gratify the sovereigns, but the satisfaction
that ensued did not last long. Cardinal Pacca, who was quasi-nuncio at
Lisbon just then, notes the disorders prevalent in the country
especially in the University of Coimbra, where the worst kind of
teaching was permitted.
On July 3, 1770, Bernis wrote to Choiseul: "I heard that the Founder of
the Passionists, Paul of the Cross, has warned the Pope to watch over
his kitchen, and hence Brother Francisco who looks after the Pope's
household has redoubled his vigilance. I do not know if it is on account
of this warning, but in any case the Pope has gone to some mineral
springs for treatment and is to be there for the next fortnight." Ten
days afterwards, Choiseul replied: "I cannot imagine the Pope is so
credulous or so cowardly as to be so easily frightened by reports about
attempts on his life. The Society of Jesus has been looked upon as
dangerous because of its doctrines, its Institute and its intrigues in
the countries from which they have been expelled; but they have not been
accused of being poisoners. It is only the base jealousy and fanatical
hatred of some monks that could suspect such a thing. The General of the
Passionists might have dispensed himself from giving such indiscreet
advice to the Pope, which seems to have aggravated the illness of which
he was already complaining." As this General of the Passionists was no
other than the saintly Paul of the Cross, who has been since raised to
the honors of the altar, one may form some idea of the infamous devices
resorted to in all this business. Far from being unfriendly, Paul of the
Cross writes: "I am extremely pained by the sufferings of the
illustrious Company of Jesus. The very thought of all those innocent
religious being persecuted, in so many ways, makes me weep and groan.
The devil is triumphing; God's glory is diminished, and multitudes of
souls are deprived of all spiritual help. I pray, night and day that,
after the storm is passed, God who gives both life and death may
resuscitate the Society with greater glory than before. Such have been
always, and such still are, my feelings towards the Jesuits."
The fact is, however, that the Pope was really frightened. His
cheerfulness had vanished, his health had failed, and his features wore
an anxious and haunted look. He kept in seclusion, and, as has been
said, would let no one prepare his meals but his fellow-friar, Brother
Francisco, who remained with him till the end. He was evidently fighting
for time; hoping, no doubt, that something might occur to absolve him
from his promise. But his enemies were relentless. Charles III was more
than fanatical in his insistency, and finally Clement appointed
Marefoschi, an open enemy of the Jesuits, to prepare the Brief. The task
was joyfully accepted, but the Pope discovered that it was not written
in the usual pontifical style. That excuse, however, was regarded by his
assailants, as a trick, and they complained of it bitterly. Then it was
alleged that the Empress Maria Theresa, who was not averse to the
Jesuits, had to be consulted. Indeed, she had given out that as long as
she lived they had nothing to fear in her dominions, but she failed to
keep her word. Subsequently, a promise was given not to allow Father
Ricci to have a successor or to admit novices into the Order; then a
general council was proposed to decide the question, but all was of no
avail.
At this point, December 25, 1770, Choiseul fell from power, and the
world began to breathe for a short spell, hoping that this might affect
the situation, but d'Aiguillon, his successor, was just as bad.
Moreover, Saint-Priest, in his "Chûte des Jésuites" (p. 127) uses the
incident for a nasty insult. He attributes Choiseul's fall to the regard
that Madame du Barry had for the Society. "Thank God!" exclaims de
Ravignan, "the Society has never had such a protectress." She was
admired by Voltaire, who hailed her as another Egeria, but no Jesuit
ever sought her protection. Their only advocate at the court at that sad
period was the saintly daughter of the king, who became a Carmelite nun
to expiate her father's sins. The real cause of Choiseul's downfall was
that Maupeou showed to Louis XV some of Choiseul's letters urging
parliament "not to yield in the fight, for the king would sustain the
Society with all his power." "It was not hard," says Foisset in "Le
Président des Brosses" (p. 302), "for du Barry to persuade the king that
those letters were meant to incite the parliament to rebellion against
him." She hated Choiseul who, though willing to pay court to Pompadour,
had no respect for the low and coarse du Barry.
At this point, the Pope offered another inducement to the King of Spain:
the canonization of Palafox, whom Charles III worshipped, but that
failed, though a little respite was gained by the help of the king's
confessor; and certain discussions with regard to the restitution of the
papal territories also contributed to delay the disaster. The year 1771
had now been reached, and to afford some satisfaction to the foe, the
Pope established a commission or congregation of cardinals to examine
the financial conditions of the Society. At its head was the fierce
Marefoschi, who began by seizing the Roman Seminary. Thus matters
dragged on till 1772. Up to that time very little progress had been
made, and people were beginning to talk about the impossibility of
abolishing the whole Order, or even a part of it without "proper
juridical investigation." Even Bernis told his government that "there
was too much heat in this Jesuit affair to permit the Pope to explain
his real thoughts about the suppression;" but, though Aranda was out of
office and Choiseul likewise, the implacable Charles III was determined
to put an end to the delay and instead of Azpuru, he sent the fierce
José Moñino, otherwise known as Florida Blanca to be his ambassador in
Rome.
Under an affable and polished exterior Moñino was in reality very
brutal. He simply terrorized the Pope, who put off receiving him for a
week after his arrival and invented all sorts of excuses not to see him.
When at last they met, the Pope was pale and excited but Moñino had
resolved to end the siege. He dismissed absolutely all question of a
reform of the Order. What he wanted was suppression, or else there would
be a rupture with Spain. In vain the Pope entreated him to wait for
Ricci's death; but the angry minister rejected the offer with scorn, and
the Pope after being humiliated, insulted and outraged, withdrew to his
apartments, exclaiming with sobs in his voice: "God forgive the Catholic
King." "It was Moñino," said a diplomat then at Rome, "who got the Brief
of 1773; but he did not obtain it; he tore it from the Pope's hand."
Under instructions from Charles III, Moñino told the Pope, "I will
disgrace you by publishing the letter you wrote to the king," and he
laid before the Pontiff a plan drawn up by himself and the other
ministers of Charles III to carry out the suppression. De Ravignan
condemns Crétineau-Joly for having published this paper. "It would have
been better to have left it in the secret archives."
In Moñino's plan of action he declares that "it was not advisable to
enter into details; so as not to allow any ground for discussion, as it
would do harm to religion and uselessly defame the character of the
Jesuits." The king's reasons had already been made known to the Holy
See. They were three in number. The first was "they had caused the
Sombrero Riot in Madrid;" the second: "their moral and doctrinal
teaching was bad;" the third, and this was the most extraordinary of
all: "they had always persecuted the holiest bishops and persons in the
Kingdom of Spain." The last item probably referred to Palafox. His
Majesty had not yet revealed the important secret which he kept "locked
in his royal heart." All the terrible statements of the documents
alleged to have been seized by Marefoschi were to be of no use, when
compared with the Riot of the Sombreros.
Meantime conditions were every day growing worse in Europe. The
publications of Voltaire and his friends were destroying both religion
and morality. The fulminations of the Pope against these books availed
little, and meantime he was about to crush the men who were best able to
face the enemy. Finally, poor Poland was being cut up by Prussia, Russia
and Austria and the Pope was powerless to prevent it. On the other hand,
there were some consolations. Thus in 1771 the Armenian patriarch and
all his people renounced Nestorianism and returned to the unity of the
Church. Between 1771 and 1772 seven thousand families and their
ministers in the country of Sickelva abandoned Socinianism, and became
Catholics. Again, wonderful conversions were made in Transylvania and
Hungary, not only among Protestants but among the schismatical Greeks.
Similar triumphs had been achieved in Armenia and Syria among the
subjects of the Grand Turk, and the whole peninsula of Italy under the
eyes of the Pope was in a transport of religious zeal. The peculiarly
interesting feature about all this was that it was the work of the
members of the Society of Jesus. But that did not check the progress of
the anti-Christian plot of the Catholic kings of Europe to obliterate
from the face of the earth the organization which even in its crippled
condition and in the very last moments of its existence was capable of
such achievements. Cardinal Migazzi, the Archbishop of Vienna, called
the Pope's attention to this fact, but without avail.
Up to this time, Maria Theresa had been the devoted friend of the
Society. She had even said she would never cease to be so, but yielding
to the influence of her son, Joseph II, and of her daughter, the Queen
of Naples, she consented to their suppression, on condition that she
could dispose arbitrarily of their property (Clément XIII et Clément
XIV, I, 362.) The illustrious queen displayed great worldly prudence in
withdrawing her affections. This desertion destroyed the last hope that
the Pope had cherished of putting off the Suppression. Moñino returned
to the attack again and received an assurance from Clement that the
document of suppression would be ready in eight days, and copies would
be sent to the Kings of Spain, France and Naples. Meantime, as a
guarantee, he began the work in his own States. Under all sorts of
pretexts, individuals and college corporations were haled to court; and
official visits were made of the various establishments. On March 10,
1773, Malvezzi, the Archbishop of Bologna, applied to the Pope for
"permission to dissolve the novitiate, if it would seem proper to do so.
If you think well of it, I shall carry that measure into effect, as soon
as I arrive. I also judge it advisable to shut up St. Lucia, by
dismissing the Jesuit theologians and philosophers. In doing so, Your
Holiness will be dispensed from the trouble of investigating and will
thus avoid the publicity of any notable offence which an examination
might reveal."
There were two difficulties in the way, however. The people objected to
the expulsion, and the Jesuits refused to be released from their vows.
The latter obstacle was thought to be overcome by tearing off the
cassocks of the young men and sending them adrift as laymen, and when
the rector, Father Belgrado, who besides being a theologian was one of
the foremost physicists and mathematicians of the day, and had been the
confessor of the Duke and Duchess of Parma, informed the archbishop that
dispensation from substantial vows must come from the Pope and from no
one else, that did not stop Malvezzi. He had the rector arrested and
exiled; and with the help of a band of soldiers expelled the scholastics
from the house. He then wrote to the Pope regretting that he had not
proceeded more rapidly. Besides this, Frascati was taken from the
Jesuits and given to the Cardinal of York, who asked for it, though his
royal pension had made him already immensely wealthy. Similar
visitations were made in Ferrara and Montalto, and the looting became
general.
In Poland, as we learn from "Les Jésuites de la Russie blanche," the
spoliation had started even before the promulgation of the edict.
Libraries were broken up and the books were often used to kindle
bonfires; the silver of the churches was melted down and sold, and
medals and chains from statues were seen on the necks of abandoned
women. Even the cattle on the farms were seized. The Jews were
especially conspicuous in these depredations.
All this was the prelude of the fatal Brief, which was signed on July
21, 1773, but was not promulgated until August 16 of that year. Theiner
is the only author who gives August 17 as the date. As a matter of fact
it was held up by Austria so as to gain time to prevent the secular
clergy from seizing the property. The preparation of the Brief was
conducted with the profoundest secrecy. Even on July 28, the French
Ambassador wrote to D'Aiguillon: "the Pope is doing nothing in the
Jesuit matter." He was unaware that not only was the Brief already
signed but that a Congregatio de rebus extinctæ Societatis (a Committee
on the affairs of the Extinct Society) had been appointed, and that its
members had been bound under pain of excommunication not to reveal the
fact to any one. However, Bernis found it out on the 11th, and
complained that he had not been consulted. He wrote as follows: "Last
Friday, the Pope summoned Cardinals Marefoschi, Casali, Zelada, Corsini
and Caraffa, and after having made them take an oath, he put a Brief in
their hands, which constituted them members of a congregation which was
to meet every Monday and Thursday to discuss whatever concerned the
Jesuit establishments, their benefices, colleges, seminaries,
foundations, and such matters. It held its first meeting last Monday.
Macedonio, the Pope's nephew, was the secretary; Alfani, a prelate, was
the assessor; and Fathers Mamachi, a Dominican, and de Casal, a
Recollect, were consulting theologians. The last two mentioned are men
of repute."
"The 16th day of August 1773, the day of sad memories," writes de
Ravignan, "arrived. Towards nine at night, Macedonio went to the Gesù
and officially notified the General of the Brief that suppressed the
Society throughout the world. He was accompanied by soldiers and
officers of the police to keep order, though no one dreamed of creating
any trouble. At the same hour, also by command of the Pope, other
distinguished prelates and ecclesiastics gave notice of the Brief to the
various Jesuit rectors in Rome. They also were accompanied by soldiers
and notaries. Seals were put on the archives, the accounts, the offices
of the treasurers and the doors of the sacristies. The Jesuits were
suspended from all ecclesiastical functions such as confessions and
preaching, and they were forbidden, for the time being, to leave their
houses. The Father General and his assistants were carried off to jail."
"Such," said Schoell (xliv, 84), "was the end of one of the most
remarkable institutions that perhaps ever existed. The Order of the
Jesuits was divided into five nations, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish,
French and German, each one of which had a representative living with
the General. In 1750 the organization comprised 39 provinces, had 84
professed houses, which were residences where the most experienced
members worked unceasingly for the Order without being distracted by
public instruction. There were 679 colleges, 61 novitiates, 176
seminaries, 335 residences, and 273 missions. There were 22,589 members
of whom 11,293 were priests."
This official act of the Pope really added very little to the temporal
injury already done to the Order in Spain, France and Portugal where
they had already been robbed of everything. But to be regarded as
reprobates by the Pope and branded as disturbers of the peace of the
Church was a suffering with which all they had hitherto undergone bore
no comparison. Nevertheless, they uttered no protest. They submitted
absolutely and died without a murmur, and in this silence they were true
to their lifelong training, for loyalty to the See of Peter had always
been the distinctive mark of the Society of Jesus from the moment that
Ignatius Loyola knelt at the feet of the Sovereign Pontiff, for his
approval and blessing. When the blow fell, the Society was found to be
faithful. If it had during its lifetime achieved something for the glory
of God and the salvation of souls; if it had been constantly appealed to
for the most dangerous missions and had accepted them with enthusiasm;
if it had poured out its blood lavishly for the Faith; if it had given
many glorious saints to the Church, now, in the last terrible crisis
which preceded the French Revolution and perhaps precipitated it, when
the ruler of the Militant Church judged that by sacrificing one of his
legions he could hold back the foe, the Society of Jesus on being chosen
did not hesitate; it obeyed, and it was cut to pieces. Not a word came
from the heroic band to discuss the wisdom or the unwisdom of the act.
Others protested but not they. Those who condemned Clement XIV were not
Jesuits, though their enemies said they were. On the contrary, the
Jesuits defended and eulogized him and some of them even maintained that
in the terrible circumstances in which he found himself, he could not
have done otherwise. The Suppression gave them the chance, which they
did not miss, to prove to the world the solidity of virtue that reigned
throughout the Order, and to show that their doctrine of "blind
obedience" was not a matter of mere words, but an achievable and an
achieved virtue. They would have stultified themselves had they halted
when the supreme test was asked for, and so they died to uphold the
judgment of the Vicar of Christ, and in similar circumstances would do
it again. They had preached sermons in every part of the world, but
never one like this. Nor was it a sublime act such as some individual
saints might have performed. It was the act of the whole Society of
Jesus.
Silent themselves, they did their best to persuade others to refrain
from all criticism. One example will suffice. It was after the Pope's
death when the ex-Jesuits at Fribourg held a funeral service in their
collegiate Church of St. Nicholas. The whole city was present, and the
preacher, Father Matzel, amid the sobs of the congregation uttered these
words: "Friends! beloved Friends of our former Society! whoever and
wherever you may be! If ever we have had the happiness to be of help and
comfort to you by our labor in city or country; if ever we have
contributed anything to the cause of Christianity in preaching the word
of God or catechising or instructing youth, or laboring in hospitals or
prisons, or writing edifying books now, on this occasion, although in
our present distress we have many favors to ask of you, there is one we
ask above all and we entreat and implore you to grant it. It is never to
speak a word that would be harsh or bitter or disrespectful to the
memory of Clement XIV, the Supreme Head of the Church of Christ."
The famous Brief is designated by its first words, _Dominus ac
Redemptor_. Its general tenor is as follows: It begins by enumerating
the various religious orders which, in course of time, had been
suppressed by successive Popes, and it then gives a list of the
privileges accorded to the Society by the Holy See, but it notes that
"from its very cradle" there were internal and external disagreements
and dissensions and jealousies, as well as opposition to both secular
and ecclesiastical authority, chiefly because of the excessive
privileges that had been granted to it by the different Sovereign
Pontiffs. Its moral and dogmatic theology also gave rise to considerable
discussion, and it has frequently been accused of too great avidity in
the acquisition of earthly goods. The Pontiff merely declares that such
"charges" were made against the Society; he, in no place, admits that
the "charges" were based on truth. These accusations, he continues,
caused much chagrin to the Holy See, and afforded a motive for several
sovereigns of Europe to range themselves in opposition to the Society;
while, on the other hand, a new confirmation of the Institute was
obtained from Pope Paul IV of happy memory. That, however, did not
succeed in putting an end to the disputes with the ordinaries or with
other religious orders on many points, and notably with regard to
certain ceremonies which the Holy See proscribed as scandalous in
doctrine, and subversive of morality; nor did it avail to quell the
tumult which ultimately led to the expulsion of the Society from
Portugal, France, Spain and the Two Sicilies, and induced the kings of
those countries to ask Clement XIII for its complete suppression.
"Hence, finding that the Society of Jesus can no longer produce the
abundant fruits for which it was instituted, and for which it was
approved by so many Popes, and rewarded by so many privileges, we now
abolish and suppress it. But as the purpose which we have set for
ourselves and are eager to achieve is the general good of the Church and
the tranquillity of the people, and, at the same time, to give help and
consolation to each of the members of this Society, all of whom we
tenderly cherish in the Lord, we ordain as follows with regard to them."
He then explains the various ways in which each section of the Society
is to be dealt with.
Such in general is the substance of this very long Brief. In it,
however, there is not one word about the decadence of the Society in
its morality or its theology. The Pontiff merely says that many have
"charged" them with such offenses. He even goes so far as to say that
"he tenderly loved all of the individuals who composed the Society." The
real purpose of it was to bring peace to the Church. Cahours in his "Des
Jésuites par un Jésuite," (II, p. 278) says, "Every judge who passes a
sentence affirms two things: the existence of a crime and the fitness of
the penalty. Clement XIV pronounces on the second, but says nothing of
the first. Hence the sentence is not something exacted by justice, but
is merely an administrative measure called for by the embarrassment of
the moment."
Was it legitimate? Yes; for the Holy See has a right to suppress what it
has created.