A CENTURY OF DISASTER
Expulsion from Holland--Trouble at Freiburg--Expulsion and
recall in Spain--_Petits Séminaires_--Berryer--Montlosier
--The Men's Sodalities--St. Acheul mobbed--Fourteen Jesuits
murdered in Madrid--Interment of Pombal--de Ravignan's
pamphlet--Veuillot--Montalembert--de Bonald--Archbishop
Affre--Michelet, Quinet and Cousin--Gioberti--Expulsion
from Austria--Kulturkampf--Slaughter of the Hostages in the
Commune--South America and Mexico--Flourishing Condition
before Outbreak of the World War.
When Pius VII restored the Society in 1814, he said it was because "he
needed experienced mariners in the Barque of Peter which was tossed
about on the stormy sea of the world." The storm had not abated. On the
contrary its violence had increased, and the mariners who were honored
by the call have never had a moment's rest since that eventful day when
they were bidden to resume their work.
As early as 1816 the King of the Netherlands, William I, sent a band of
soldiers to drive the Jesuits out of his dominions. He began with the
novitiate of Destelbergen. Some of the exiles went to Hanover and others
to Switzerland. The dispersion, however, did not check vocations. In
1819, for instance, Peter Beckx, who was then a secular priest in the
parish of Uccle, never imagining, of course, that he was afterwards to
be the General of the Society, entered the novitiate at Hildesheim.
Before 1830 more than fifty applicants had been received. The figure is
amazing, because it meant expatriation, paternal opposition, and a
decree of perpetual exclusion from any public office in Holland. In
spite of the law of banishment, however, a few priests succeeded in
remaining in the country, exercising the functions of their ministry
secretly.
In Russia, the Society, as mentioned above, had been cooped up in a
restricted part of White Russia from 1815; on March 13, 1820, Alexander
II extended the application of the decree of banishment to the entire
country.
Then the storm broke on the Society in Freiburg, the occasion being a
pedagogical quarrel with which the Jesuits had absolutely nothing to do.
The people of the city were discussing the relative merits of the
Pestalozzi and Lancaster systems for primary teaching; and to restore
peace, the town council, at the bishop's request, closed all the
schools. This drew down the public wrath on the head of the bishop, but
as reverence for his official position protected him from open attack,
someone suggested that the Jesuits were at the back of the measure. The
result was that, at midnight on March 9, 1823, a mob attacked the Jesuit
college, and clamored for its destruction. The bishop, however, wrote a
letter assuming complete responsibility for the measure and the trouble
then ceased.
After the fall of Napoleon, Talleyrand suggested to Louis XVIII to
recall the Jesuits for collegiate work. But before his majesty had
succeeded in making up his mind, the proposition became known and
Talleyrand was driven from power in spite of a proclamation which he
issued, assuring the public that he was always a foe of the Society. In
the lull that followed, the Fathers were able to remain at their work,
but four years afterwards, namely in 1819, they were expelled from Brest
but continued to labor as missionaries in the remote country districts.
On May 15, 1815, they had been recalled to Spain by Ferdinand as a
reparation for the sins of his ancestors and their reception was an
occasion of public rejoicing--the Imperial College itself being
entrusted to them. They then numbered about one hundred, and in the
space of five years there were one hundred and ninety-seven on the
catalogue. They were left at peace for a time, but in 1820 throngs
gathered in the streets around their houses, clamoring for their blood,
and a bill was drawn up for their expulsion. By a notable--or was it an
intentional?--coincidence the document bore the date of July 31, the
feast of the Spanish saint, Ignatius Loyola. The feeling against them
was so intense that three Fathers, who had been acclaimed all over Spain
for their devotion to the plague-stricken, were taken out of their beds,
thrown into prison and then sent into exile. Meantime, Father Urigoitia
was murdered by a mob, near the famous cave of St. Ignatius at Manresa.
The Pope and king protested in vain. Indeed the king was besieged in his
palace and kept there until everything the rioters demanded was granted;
he remained virtually a prisoner until the French troops entered Spain.
In 1824 the Jesuits were recalled again, in 1825 the preparatory
military school was entrusted to their care, as was the College of
Nobles at Madrid in 1827.
In 1828 new troubles began for the French Jesuits. As they had been
unable to have colleges of their own, they had accepted eight _petits
séminaires_ which were offered them by the bishops. This was before they
had become known as Jesuits, for to all outward appearances they were
secular priests. But, little by little, their establishments took on a
compound character. Boys who had no clerical aspirations whatever asked
for admittance, so that the management of the schools became extremely
difficult and, of course, their real character soon began to be
suspected by the authorities. Investigations were therefore ordered of
all the _petits séminaires_ of the country, though the measure was aimed
only at the eight controlled by the Jesuits. As the interrogatory was
very minute, it caused great annoyance to the bishops, who saw in it an
attempt of the government to control elementary sacerdotal education
throughout the country, and hence there was an angry protest from the
whole hierarchy, with the exception of one prelate who had been a
Constitutional bishop.
It was on this occasion that the younger Berryer pronounced his masterly
discourse before the "General Council for the Defense of the Catholic
Religion." He established irrefragably the point of law that "a
congregation which is not authorized is not therefore prohibited"--a
principle accepted by all the French courts until recently. Apart from
the ability and eloquence of the plea, it was the more remarkable
because his father had been one of the most noted assailants of the
Society in 1826. The plea ended with this remarkable utterance: "Behold
the result of all these intrigues, of all this fury, of all these
outrages, of all this hate! Two ministers of State compel a legitimate
monarchy to do what even the Revolution never dreamed of wresting from
the throne. One of these ministers is the chief of the French
magistracy, and the guardian of the laws; the other is a Catholic
bishop, an official trustee of the rights of his brethren in the
episcopate. Both of them are rivals in their zeal to exterminate the
priesthood and to complete the bloody work of the Revolution. Applaud
it, sacrilegious and atheistic race! Behold a priest who betrays the
sanctuary! Behold a magistrate who betrays the courts of law and
justice!"
Berryer's chief opponent was the famous Count de Montlosier whose
"Memoire" was the sensation of the hour. It consisted of four chapters:
1. The Sodalities. 2. The Jesuits. 3. The Ultramontanes. 4. The
Clerical Encroachments. These were described as "The Four Calamities
which were going to subvert the throne." The Sodalities especially
worried him, for they were, according to his conception of them,
"apparently a pious assembly of angels, a senate of sages, but in
reality a circle of intriguing devils." These sodalities or
congregations, as they are called in France, had assumed an importance
and effectiveness for good which is perhaps unequalled in the history of
similar organizations elsewhere. Their founder was Father Delpuits,
"whom it is a pleasure to name," said the eloquent Lacordaire, "for
though others may have won more applause for their influence over young
men, no one deserved it more."
When the Society was expelled from France in 1762, Delpuits became a
secular priest and was offered a canonry by de Beaumont, the Archbishop
of Paris. He gave retreats to the clergy and laity and especially to
young collegians. During the Revolution, he was put in prison and then
exiled, but he returned to France after the storm. There he met young
Father Barat, who had just been released from prison and was anxious to
join the Jesuits in Russia. Delpuits advised him to remain in France
where men of his stamp were sorely needed and hence Barat did not enter
the Society until 1814.
In 1801, following out the old Jesuit traditions, Delpuits organized a
sodality, beginning with four young students of law and medicine. Others
soon joined them, among them Laennec who subsequently became one of the
glories of the medical profession as the inventor of auscultation. Then
came two abbés and two brothers of the house of Montmorency. The future
mathematician, Augustin Cauchy, and also Simon Bruté de Rémur who, at a
later date, was to be one of the first bishops of the United States;
Forbin-Janson, so eminent in the Church of France, was a sodalist, as
were the three McCarthys, one of whom, Nicholas, became a Jesuit, and
was regarded as the Chrysostom of France. The list is a long one. When
Delpuits died in 1812, his sodalists erected a modest memorial above
him, and inserted the S. J. after his name. That was two years prior to
the re-establishment. A Sulpician then took up the work, but in 1814, he
turned it over to Father de Clorivière who, in turn, entrusted it to
Father Ronsin. Its good works multiplied in all directions, and branches
were established throughout France. By the time Montlosier began his
attacks, the register showed 1,373 names, though Montlosier assured the
public that they were no less than 48,000. Among them were a great
number of priests and even bishops, notably, Cheverus, the first Bishop
of Boston and subsequently, Cardinal Archbishop of Bordeaux. The last
meeting of the sodality was held on July 18, 1830. Paris was then in the
Revolution and the sodality was suppressed, but rose again to life later
on.
While this attack on the sodalists was going on, the Jesuits of course
were assailed on all sides. The fight grew fiercer every day until the
"Journal des Débats" was able to say: "The name Jesuit is on every
tongue, but it is there to be cursed; it is repeated in every newspaper
of the land with fear and alarm; it is carried throughout the whole of
France on the wings of the terror that it inspires." As many as one
hundred books, big and little, were counted in the Bibliothèque
Nationale, all of which had been published in the year 1826 alone. They
were the works not only of anonymous and money-making scribes, but of
men like Thiers and the poet Béranger who did not think such literature
beneath them. Casimir Périer appeared in the tribune against the
Society, and the ominous name of Pasquier, whose bearer was possibly a
descendant of the famous anti-Jesuit of the time of Henry IV, is found
on the list of the orators. Lamennais got into the fray, not precisely
in defense of the Jesuits, but to proclaim his ultra anti-Gallicanism;
thus bringing that element into the war. Added to this was the old
Jansenist spirit, which had not yet been purged out of France; indeed,
Bournichon discovers traces of it in some of the Fathers of the Faith
who had joined the Society.
Finally came the Revolution of 1830, during which the novitiate of
Montrouge was sacked and pillaged. Other houses of France shared the
same fate. On July 29 a mob of four or five hundred men attacked St.
Acheul, some of the assailants shouting for the king, others for the
emperor, others again for the Republic, but all uniting in: "Down with
the priests! Death to the Jesuits!" Father de Ravignan attempted to talk
to the mob, but his voice was drowned in the crashing of falling
timbers. The bell was rung to call for help, but that only maddened the
assailants the more. De Ravignan persisted in appealing to them, but was
struck in the face by a stone and badly wounded. Then some one in the
crowd shouted for drink, and wine was brought out. It calmed the rioters
for a while, but while they were busy emptying bottles and breaking
barrels, a troop of cavalry from Amiens swept down on them and they
fled. The troopers however, came too late to save the house. It was a
wreck and some of the Fathers were sent to different parts of the
world--Italy, Switzerland, America or the foreign missions. But when
there were no more popular outbreaks, many returned from abroad and gave
their services to the French bishops, with the result that there never
had been a period for a long time which had so many pulpit orators and
missionaries as the reign of Louis-Philippe.
Pius VIII died on November 30, 1830, and it was a signal for an uprising
in Italy. Thanks to Cardinal Bernetti, the Vicar of Rome, peace was
maintained in the City itself, but elsewhere in the Papal States, the
anti-Jesuit cry was raised. The colleges were closed and all the houses
were searched, on the pretext of looking for concealed weapons. Meantime
calumnious reports were industriously circulated against the reputations
of the Fathers.
In the Spanish Revolution of 1820, twenty-five Jesuits were murdered. In
1833 civil war broke out between the partisans and opponents of Isabella
and, for no reason whatever, two Jesuits were arrested and thrown into
prison. One of them died after three months' incarceration. Meanwhile
threats were made in Madrid to murder all the religious in the city. The
Jesuits were to be the special victims for they were accused of having
started the cholera, poisoned the wells, etc. July 17, 1834, was the day
fixed for the deed, and crowds gathered around the Imperial College to
see what might happen.
The pupils were at dinner. A police officer entered and dismissed them
and then the mob invaded the house. Inside the building, three Jesuits
were killed; a priest, a scholastic and a lay-brother. The priest had
his skull crushed in, his teeth knocked out and his body horribly
mangled. The scholastic was beaten with clubs; pierced through the body
with swords, and when he fell in his blood, his head was cloven with an
axe. Four of the community disguised themselves and attempted to escape
but were caught and murdered in the street. Three more were killed on
the roof; and two lay-brothers who were captured somewhere else were
likewise butchered. The rest of the community had succeeded in reaching
the chapel, and were on their knees before the altar, when an officer
forced his way through the crowd and called for his brother who was one
of the scholastics, to go with him to a place of safety. The young
Jesuit refused the offer, whereupon the soldier replied: "Very well I
shall take care of all of you." He kept his word and fifty-four Jesuits
followed him out of the chapel and were conducted to a place of safety.
The house, however, was gutted; unspeakable horrors were committed in
the chapel; everything that could not be carried off was broken, and in
the meantime a line of soldiers stood outside, not only looking on, but
even taking sides with the rioters.
Evidently the times had passed when it was necessary to go out among the
savages to die for the Faith. The savages had come to Madrid. Nor was
this a conventional anti-Jesuit uprising; for on that hideous 17th of
July, 1834, seventy-three members of other religious communities were
murdered in the dead of night in the capital of Catholic Spain.
Nevertheless Father General Roothaan wrote to his Jesuit sons: "I am not
worried about our fourteen who have so gloriously died, for 'blessed are
those who die in the Lord.' What causes me most anguish is the danger of
those who remain; most of them still young, who are scattered abroad, in
surroundings where their vocation and virtue will be exposed to many
dangers." Nothing was done to the murderers, and before another year had
elapsed, a decree was issued expelling the Jesuits from the whole of
Spain; but as Don Carlos was just then in the field asserting his claim
to the throne, a large number of the exiles from other parts of Spain,
were able to remain at Loyola in the Pyrenees until 1840.
The Portuguese had waited for fifteen years after Pius VII had
re-established the Society before consenting to re-admit the Jesuits.
Don Miguel issued a decree to that effect on July 10, 1829, and the
Countess Oliviera, a niece of Pombal, was the first to welcome them back
and to place her boys in their college. The Fathers were given their
former residence in Lisbon and, shortly afterwards, the Bishop of Evora
established them in their old college in that city. In 1832 they were
presented with their own college at Coimbra, and on their way thither
they laid in the tomb the still unburied remains of their arch-enemy,
Pombal, which had remained in the morgue ever since March 5, 1782,--a
space of half a century. It seemed almost like a dream. Indeed it was
little else, for Dom Miguel, who was then on the throne, was deposed by
his rival, Dom Pedro, soon after, and on July 20, 1833 the Jesuits of
Lisbon were again expelled. The decree was superfluous, for in the early
Spring, their house had been sacked, and on that occasion the inmates
would have been killed had not a young Englishman, a former student of
Stonyhurst, appeared on the scene. The four that were there he took on
his yacht to England, the others had already departed for Genoa.
Hatred for the Society, however, had nothing to do with it. The whole
affair was purely political. Had the Fathers accepted Dom Pedro's
invitation to go out among the people and persuade them to abandon the
cause of the deposed king, they would have been allowed to remain. They
were expelled for not being traitors to their lawful sovereign. The
Fathers of Coimbra contrived to remain another year, but on May 26,
1834, they were seized by a squad of soldiers and marched off to Lisbon.
Fortunately the French ambassador, Baron de Mortier, interceded for
them, otherwise they would have ended their days in the dungeons of San
Sebastian, to which they had already been sentenced. They were released
on June 28, 1834, and sent by ship to Italy and from there, along with
the dispersed Spaniards were sent by Father Roothaan to France and South
America.
Switzerland, which is the land of liberty to such an extent that it will
harbor the worst kind of anarchists, refused to admit the Jesuits, at
least in some parts of it. There were seven Catholic Cantons, Uri,
Schwyz, Unterwalden, Lucerne, Zug, Fribourg and Valais. These sections
formed a coalition known as the Sunderbund. A war broke out between them
and the other cantons, but the Sunderbund was defeated. The Jesuits were
then expelled from the little town of Sion where they had an important
school. In 1845 the people of Lucerne asked for a college, and though
Father Roothaan refused, Pope Gregory XVI insisted on it. The expected
happened. The Radicals arose in a rage and with 10,000 men laid siege to
Lucerne. They were beaten, it is true, but that did not insure the
permanency of the college. In 1847 the Sunderbund was again defeated,
and in 1848 when the general European revolution broke out, the College
of Fribourg was looted, and its collection of Natural History which was
regarded as among the best on the Continent was thrown out in the
street.
The rumblings of the storm began to be heard in France on May 1, the
Feast of the Apostles Philip and James, Louis-Philippe's name-day.
Someone in the Tuilleries said that the Jesuits were starting a
conspiracy against the throne. Happily a distinguished woman heard the
remark, and admitted that she was concerned in it, along with 300 other
conspicuous representatives of the best families of France. It was a
charity lottery and most of the conspirators had received a pot or
basket of flowers for their participation in the plot.
When that myth was exploded, the "Journal des Débats" attacked de
Ravignan for his wide influence over many important people in Paris, and
though admitting his unquestioned probity, added "What matters his
virtue, if he brings us the pest?" The word caught the popular fancy,
but it brought out de Ravignan's famous reply: "De l'éxistence et de
l'institut des Jésuites." It was received with immense favor, applauded
by such men as Vatemesnil, Dupanloup, Montalembert, Barthélemy, Beugnot,
Berryer and others. In this year 1844 alone, 25,000 copies were sold.
The root of the trouble was the university's monopoly of education;
which was obnoxious even to many who cared little for religion.
Catholics objected to it chiefly because Cousin, the Positivist,
controlled its philosophy. Many of the bishops failed to see the danger
until Father Delvaux published a digest of the utterances of many of the
university professors on religious subjects. Then the battle began. On
the Catholic side were such fighters as Veuillot, Montalembert, Cardinal
de Bonald, Mgr. Parisis. Ranged against them were Michelet, Quinet,
Sainte-Beuve and their followers. The battle waxed hotter as time went
on; and the Jesuits soon became the general target. Cousin introduced
the "Lettres Provinciales" in the course. Villemain in his Reports
denounced "the turbulent and imperious Society which the spirit of
liberty and the spirit of our government repudiate." Dupin glorified
Etienne Pasquier, the old anti-Jesuit of the time of Henry IV; similar
eulogies of the old enemy were pronounced in various parts of France;
Quinet and Michelet did nothing else in their historical lectures than
attack the Society, while Eugene Sue received 100,000 francs from the
editor of the "Constitutionel" for his "Juif errant," which presented
to the public the most grotesque picture of the Jesuits that was ever
conceived. It was however, accepted as a genuine portrait.
The anti-Jesuit cry was of course the usual campaign device to alarm the
populace. It was successful, chiefly because of the persistency with
which it was kept up by the press, and, from 1842 till 1845, the
book-market was glutted with every imaginable species of anti-Jesuit
literature. Conspicuous among the pro-Jesuits were Louis Veuillot and
the Comte de Montalembert. The royalist papers spoke in the Society's
defense but feebly or not at all. Finally, a certain Marshall Marcet de
la Roche Arnauld, who as a scholastic had been driven from the Society
in 1824, and who had been paid to write against it, suddenly disavowed
all that he had ever said. Crétineau-Joly also leaped into the fray with
his rapidly written six volumes of the "History of the Society."
It would have been comparatively easy to continue the struggle with
outside enemies, but in the very midst of the battle, the Archbishop of
Paris, Affre, ranged himself on the side of the foe. He denied that the
Jesuits were a religious order, for the extraordinary reason that they
were not recognized by the State; their vows, consequently, were not
solemn; and the members of the Society were in all things subject to the
curé of the parish in which their establishment happened to be. He even
exacted that he should be informed of everything that took place in the
community, and if an individual was to be changed, His Grace was to be
notified of it a month in advance. The archbishop, however, was not
peculiar in these views. They were deduced from Bouvier's theology which
was then taught in all the seminaries of France.
Of course, this affected other religious as well as the Jesuits, and,
hence, when Dom Guéranger wanted to establish the Benedictines in
Paris, the archbishop had no objection, except that "they had no legal
existence in France." To this Guéranger immediately replied:
"Monseigneur! the episcopacy has no legal existence in England, Ireland
and Belgium, and perhaps the day will come when it will not have any in
France, but the episcopacy will be no less sacred for all that." The
great Benedictine then appealed to the Pope, and when the reply was
handed to him, the Apostolic nuncio said: "It is not an ordinary Brief I
give you, but an Apostolic Constitution." In it the archbishop was told
by His Holiness that the French religious had not been destroyed because
of the refusal of the government to give them a legal existence. His
Grace had also received a communication from Father Roothaan, the
General, who, after reminding him of the provision of canon law on the
point at issue, warned him that if he persisted in his view the Jesuits
would simply withdraw from his diocese.
Meantime the Pope had suspended the execution of the orders of the
archbishop and shortly after, sent him the following severe admonition:
"We admit, Venerable Brother, our inability to comprehend your very
inconsiderate ruling with regard to the faculties for hearing
confessions which you have withdrawn from the Jesuit Fathers, or by what
authority or for what reason you forbid them either to leave the city or
to enter it, without notifying you a month in advance; especially as
this Society, on account of the immense services it has rendered to the
Church, is held in great esteem by far-seeing and fervent Catholics and
by the Holy See itself. We know also that it is calumniated by people
who have abandoned the Faith and by those who have no respect for the
authority of the Holy See and we regret that they will now use the
authority of your name in support of their calumnies."
Of course the archbishop could do nothing else than obey. But he did not
change his mind with regard to the objects of his hostility. Possibly he
was constitutionally incapable of doing so. For he treated his cathedral
chapter in the same fashion and we read in a communication from the
French ambassador at Rome to Guizot who was then head of the Government
that the canons of Paris had complained of being absolutely excluded
from all influence or authority in the administration of the diocese.
This note gives an insight into the methods of Gallicanism, which
conceded that the disputes or differences of the clergy with the
archbishop were to be passed upon by a minister of state even if he were
a Protestant.
The trouble did not end there and the Parliamentary session of 1844
marked a very notable epoch in the history of the French province of the
Society and of the Church of France. M. Villemain presented a bill which
proposed to reaffirm and reassure the university's monopoly of the
education of the country. It explicitly excluded all members of
religious congregations from the function of teaching. It is true that
there was not a single word in it about the Jesuits, nevertheless in the
stormy debates that it evoked, and in which the most prominent men of
the nation participated, there was mention of not one other teaching
body. Almost the very first speaker, Dupin, pompously proclaimed that
"France did not want that famous Society which owes allegiance to a
foreign superior and whose instruction is diametrically opposed to what
all lovers of the country desire" nor was it desirable that "these
religious speculators should slip in through the meshes of the law." His
last word was: "Let us be implacable." In the official Report, however,
"implacable" became "inflexible." The ministerial and university organ,
the "Journal des Débats," admitted that such was the purpose of the
bill.
Villemain fancied that he had silenced the bishops by leaving them full
authority over the little seminaries. He was quickly disillusioned. From
the entire hierarchy individually and collectively came indignant
repudiations of the measure and none was fiercer than the protest of
Mgr. Affre, Archbishop of Paris. He denounced the university as "a
centre of irreligion" and as perverting in the most flagrant manner the
youth of France. "You reproach us," he said, "with disturbing the
country by our protests. Yes, we have raised our voices, but the
university has committed the crime. We may embarrass the throne for the
present, but in the university are to be found all the perils of the
future." The excitement was so intense that the government actually put
the Abbé Combalot in jail for an article he wrote against the bill, and
the whole hierarchy was threatened with being summoned before the
council of state if they persisted in their opposition.
Montalembert was more than usually eloquent in the course of the
parliamentary war. To Dupin who exhorted the peers to be "implacable" he
replied: "In the midst of a free people, we, Catholics, refuse to be
slaves; we are the successors of the martyrs and we shall not quail
before the successors of Julian the Apostate; we are the sons of the
Crusaders and we shall not recoil before the sons of Voltaire."
There were thirty-five or forty discourses and twelve or fifteen of the
speakers described the Society as "the detested congregation," while the
members who admitted the injustice and the odious tyranny of the
proposed legislation made haste to assure their constituents that they
had no use for the Jesuits. Cousin consumed three hours in assailing
them; another member of the Dupin family saw "an appalling danger to
the State in the fact that Montalembert could speak of them without
cursing them, and that the peers could listen to him in silence, while
he extolled the poisoners of the pious Ganganelli." Others insisted that
the Jesuits had dragged the episcopate into the fight; even Guizot
declared that "public sentiment inexorably repudiated the Jesuits and
the other congregations, who are the champions of authority and the
enemies of private judgment." The great man was not aware that the same
reproach might be and is addressed to the Church.
The measure was finally carried by 85 against 51, but the heavy minority
disconcerted the government and better hopes were entertained in the
lower house to which Villemain presented his bill on June 10th. There it
was left in the hands of Thiers, and it did not reach the Assembly, as a
body, for an entire month. As the summer vacations were at hand, the
_projet de loi_ was dropped. Guizot then conceived the plan of appealing
directly to the Pope to suppress the French Jesuits. He chose as his
envoy an Italian named Rossi, who had been banished from Bologna, Naples
and Florence as a revolutionist. After a short stay at Geneva, he made
his way to France where, by Protestant influence, chiefly that of
Guizot, he advanced rapidly to very distinguished and lucrative
positions. The country was shocked to hear that an Italian and a
Protestant should represent the nation at the court of the Pope from
whose dominions he had been expelled, but Guizot intended by so doing,
to express the sentiments of his government. It was an open threat.
Rossi arrived in Rome and presented his credentials on April 11.
The French Jesuits who had been expelled from Portugal did not return to
their native country; for Charles X, discovering at last that the
Liberals, as they called themselves, had played him false, resolved to
have a thoroughgoing monarchical government; and, to carry out his
purpose, made the inept Polignac prime minister. On July 25 he signed
four ordinances, the first of which restricted the liberty of the press;
the second dissolved parliament; the third diminished the electorate to
25,000. The next day, the press was in rebellion; Charles abdicated and
sailed for England. Of course the Revolution was anti-religious and the
Jesuits were the first sufferers. House after house was wrecked and the
scholastics were gathered together and hurried off to different
countries in Europe. Thus ended the first sixteen years of the Society's
existence in France, after the promulgation of the Bull of Pius VII
"Sollicitudo omnium ecclesiarum."
The first successor of Father de Clorivière as vice-provincial was
Father Simpson. France was made a province in 1820, and on the death of
Father Simpson, the new General, Father Fortis, appointed Father
Richardot, who at the end of his three years' term asked to be relieved.
In 1814 Godinot was appointed, because none of those who had been
proposed for the office had been more than ten years in the Society.
Godinot himself had been admitted only in 1810. He had been
vice-provincial of the Fathers of the Faith, and eleven years after his
admission, was directing the scattered Jesuit establishments in
Switzerland, Belgium, Holland and Germany. In Switzerland, he had given
the impulse to the college of Fribourg, which afterwards became so
famous. It is worth noting that when he was a Father of the Faith he was
a member of the community of Sion in Valais which enjoyed the
exceptional privilege of being united as a body to the Society.
Everywhere else each individual had to be admitted separately.
On April 14, the peers met to discuss a very exciting subject. A protest
had come from Marseilles signed by 89 electors, against the books of
Michelet and Quinet. Immediately Cousin was on his feet and ascribed it
to the Jesuits. A few days later, another topic engrossed their
attention. Dupin's "Manual of Ecclesiastical Law" had been condemned by
Cardinal de Bonald, and more than sixty bishops concurred with him in
prohibiting the book. At Rome, it was put on the Index, along with
Cousin's "History of Philosophy." The anti-Catholics were in a fury, and
on April 24, Cousin addressed the House. At the end of a three hour
discourse which he began, unbeliever though he was, by protesting his
respect for "the august religion of his country," he concluded by saying
that "probably the action of the bishops was due to the Jesuits" and
therefore he called for the enforcement of the law for their
suppression. The question now arose, whether they could proceed to the
suppression by force of law while the government actually had an envoy
at Rome to dispose of the affair in a different fashion. It was decided
that the non-authorized congregations would be suppressed, no matter
what might be the outcome of Rossi's mission. Such a resolution was a
gross diplomatic insult, but they cared little for that.
Meanwhile no news had come from Rossi. He had been left in the
ante-chamber of the Pope until the Abbé de Bonnechose had succeeded in
getting him an audience, a service which de Bonnechose had some
difficulty in explaining when he was subsequently made a cardinal. A
congregation of cardinals was named to discuss Guizot's proposition, and
it was unanimously decided to reject it; and when Rossi asked what he
had to do, he was told he might address himself to the General of the
Society. To make it easy for him, Lambruschini, the papal secretary of
state, proposed to Father Roothaan to diminish the personnel of some of
the houses which were too much in evidence or remove them elsewhere. As
for dissolution of the communities or banishment from France, not a word
was said.
Immediately Rossi despatched a messenger to Paris with the account of
what had been done, and twelve days afterwards the "Moniteur" stated:
"The Government has received news from Rome that the negotiations with
which M. Rossi was entrusted have attained their object. The
congregation of the Jesuits will cease to exist in France and will, of
its own accord, disperse. Its houses will be closed and its novitiates
dissolved." On July 15, Guizot was asked by the peers to show the
alleged documents. He answered that "they were too precious to give to
the public." They have been unearthed since, and it turns out that
Guizot's notice in the "Moniteur" does not correspond with the despatch
of Rossi who merely said, "the Congregation is going to disperse;" and
instead of saying "the houses will be closed," he wrote: "only a small
number of people will remain in each house." In brief, the famous
Guizot, so renowned for his integrity, prevaricated in this instance,
and one of the worst enemies of everything Jesuitical, Dibidous, who
wrote a "History of the Church and State in France from 1789 to 1870"
declares bluntly that Guizot's note in the "Moniteur" was not only a lie
but "an impudent lie."
A great many militant Catholics in France were indignant that Father
Roothaan had not defied the government on this occasion. Yet probably
those same perfervid souls would have denounced him, had he acted as
they wished. He knew perfectly well that the government was only too
anxious to get out of the mess in which it found itself, and the little
by-play which was resorted to harmed nobody and secured at least a
temporary respite.
"To gain the support of the Catholics against the anarchical elements
which were everywhere revealing themselves," says the Cambridge History
(XI, 34) "Guizot had tolerated the unauthorized Congregations. This had
the immediate consequence of concentrating popular attention upon those
religious passions whose existence the populace, if left to itself,
might have forgotten. Even the colleagues of Guizot, such as Villemain
and the editors of the "Journal des Débats," the leading ministerial
organ, began by declaring that they saw everywhere the finger of the
Jesuits. In each party, men's minds were so divided on the subject of
the Jesuits or rather that of educational liberty which was so closely
linked with it, that nothing of immediate gravity to the Government
would for the moment arise." Liberals, or rather Republicans, such as
Quinet and Michelet, in their lectures at the Collège de France took up
the alarm and spread it broadcast.
Bournichon in his "Histoire d'un Siècle," (II, 492) calls attention to
the fact that this attack was apparently against the Jesuits, but in
reality against the Church. The "Revue Indépendante" did not hesitate to
make the avowal that "Jesuitism is only a formula which has the merit of
uniting all the popular hatred for what is odious and retrograde in a
degenerate religion." Cousin started the hue and cry, in this instance,
and Thureau-Dangin in his "Histoire de la monarchie de Juillet" (p.
503-10) says that "Quinet and Michelet transformed their courses into
bitter and spiteful diatribes against the Jesuits. Both were hired for
the work, and did not speak from conviction." "Quinet," says Bournichon
(II, 494) "was quite indifferent to religious matters and had passed
for a harmless thinker and dreamer up to that moment. As for Michelet,
he had obtained his position in the Ecole Normale from Mgr. Frayssinous,
yet he forgot his benefactor, and maintained that not only the Jesuits
but Christianity was an obstacle to human progress; paganism or even
fetichism was preferable, and Christ had to be dethroned."
Guizot removed Villemain from the office of Minister of public
instruction and reprimanded Michelet and Quinet. Then Thiers seized the
occasion to denounce Guizot for favoring the religious congregations and
succeeded in defeating the minister's measure for educational freedom.
It was at this stage that Guizot sent his envoy Rossi to Rome to induce
Pope Gregory XVI to recall the Jesuits so as to extricate the French
government from its difficulty. The Pope refused, as we have seen, and
Father Roothaan merely gave orders to the members of the Society in
France to make themselves less conspicuous.
In 1847 Gioberti published his "Gesuita Moderno" which unfortunately had
the effect of creating in the minds of the Italian clergy a deep
prejudice against the Society. Gioberti was a priest and a professor of
theology. He first taught Rosminianism, and then opposed it. Under the
pen-name of "Demofilo" or the "People's Friend" he wrote articles for
Mazzini in the "Giovane Italia," and was the author of "Del Buono" and
"Del primato morale e civile degli Italiani." His first attack on the
Society appeared in 1845 in the "Prolegomeni al Primato;" "Il Gesuita
Moderno," a large sized pamphlet full of vulgar invective, appeared in
1847. It was followed in 1848 by the "Apologia del Gesuita Moderno." He
was answered by Father Curci. Deserting Mazzini, Gioberti espoused the
cause of King Charles Albert, and founded a society to propagate the
idea of a federated Italy with the King of Piedmont at its head. His
last book, "Rinnovamento civile d'Italia" showed him to be the enemy of
the temporal power of the papacy. His philosophy is a mixture of
pantheistic ontology, rationalism, platonism and traditionalism. Though
a revolutionist, he denied the sovereignty of the people. His complete
works fill thirty-five volumes.
Of course the Society felt the shock of the Italian Revolution of 1848.
Gioberti's writing had excited all Italy and as a consequence the Jesuit
houses were abandoned. At Naples, the exiles were hooted as they took
ship for Malta; they were mobbed in Venice and Piedmont. The General
Father Roothaan left Rome on April 28 in company with a priest and a
lay-brother, and as he stood on the deck at Genoa, he heard the cry from
the shore, "You have Jesuits aboard; throw them overboard." There was
nothing surprising in all this, however, for Rossi, the Pope's prime
minister, was stabbed to death while mounting the steps of the
Cancelleria. On the following day, the Pope himself was besieged in the
Quirinal; Palma, a Papal prelate, was shot while standing at a window;
and finally on November 24, Pope Pius fled in disguise to Gaeta.
In Austria, the Jesuits were expelled in the month of April. The
community of Innsbruck, which is in the Tyrol, held together for some
time, but finally drifted off to France or America or Australia or
elsewhere. The emperor signed the decree on May 7, 1848. It applied also
to Galicia, Switzerland, and Silesia, and the Jesuit houses all
disappeared in those parts.
What happened to the Jesuits in France in the meantime? Nothing
whatever. They had obeyed the General in 1845, and had simply kept
their activities out of sight. They did not wait for the Revolution, and
hence although the "Journal des Débats," announced officially, on
October 18, 1845, that "at the present moment there are no more Jesuits
in France," there were a great many. Indeed, the catalogues of 1846 and
1847 were issued as usual, not in print, however, but in lithograph, and
as if they felt perfectly free in 1848, the catalogue of that year
appeared in printed form. Meantime de Ravignan was giving conferences in
Notre-Dame, and preaching all over the country. The only change the
Fathers made was to transport two of their establishments beyond the
frontiers. Thus a college was organized at Brugelette in Belgium and a
novitiate at Issenheim. The scholasticate of Laval continued as usual.
What was done in the province of Paris was identical with that of Lyons.
For a year or so the catalogues were lithographed but after that they
appeared in the usual form.
For two years Father Roothaan journeyed from place to place through
France, Belgium, Holland, England, and Ireland, and in 1850 returned to
Rome. The storm had spent itself, and the ruins it had caused were
rapidly repaired, at least in France, where the Falloux Law, which was
passed in 1850, permitted freedom of education, and the Fathers hastened
to avail themselves of the opportunity to establish colleges throughout
the country.
Elsewhere, however, other conditions prevailed. In 1851 there was a
dispersion in Spain; in 1859 the provinces of Venice and Turin were
disrupted and the members were distributed through the fifteen other
provinces of the Society. In 1860 the arrival of Garibaldi had already
made an end of the Jesuits in Naples and Sicily. The wreckage was
considerable, and from a complaint presented to King Victor Emmanuel by
Father Beckx, it appears that the Society had lost three establishments
in Lombardy; in Modena, six; in Sardinia, eleven; in Naples, nineteen,
and in Sicily, fifteen. Fifteen hundred Jesuits had been expelled from
their houses, as if they had been criminals, and were thrown into public
jails, abused and ill-treated. They were forbidden to accept shelter
even from their most devoted friends, and the old and the infirm had to
suffer like the rest. Nor were these outrages perpetrated by excited
mobs, but by the authorities then established in Sardinia, Sicily,
Naples, Modena and elsewhere. "This appeal for justice and reparation
for at least some of the harm done," said Father Beckx, "is placed, as
it were, on the tomb of your ancestor Charles Emmanuel, who laid aside
his royal dignity and entered the Society of Jesus as a lay-brother. He
surely would not have embraced that manner of life if it were
iniquitous." But it is not on record that Victor Emmanuel showed his
appreciation of his predecessor's virtue by healing any of the wounds of
the Society, whose garb Charles Emmanuel had worn.
The Jesuits of Venice had resumed work in their province, when in 1866
war was declared between Prussia and Austria. Sadowa shattered the
Austrian forces, and though the Italians had been badly beaten at
Custozzio, Venice was handed over to them by the treaty that ended the
war. That meant of course another expulsion. Most of the exiles went to
the Tyrol and Dalmatia. Then followed the dispersion of all the
provinces of Italy except that of Rome.
The Spanish Jesuits had recovered somewhat from the dispersions of 1854,
but, in 1868 just as the provincial congregations had concluded their
sessions, a revolution broke out all over Spain. Many of the houses were
attacked, but no personal injuries were inflicted. After a while, a
provisional government was established at Madrid which held the mob in
check but made no pretence to restrain the attacks on priests and nuns.
Indeed, it inaugurated a bitter persecution on its own account. The
minister of justice issued a decree which not only ordered the Jesuits
out of all Spain and the adjacent islands within three days, but forbade
any Spaniard to join the Society, even in foreign parts. Of course all
the property was confiscated. That was probably the chief motive of the
whole procedure. The outcasts for the most part went to France, and a
temporary novitiate was established in the territory known as Les
Landes. They returned home after some time, but were expecting another
expulsion in 1912 when the great war was threatening. Possibly the
hideous scenes enacted in Portugal in 1912 were deemed sufficient by the
revolutionists for the time being.
The expatriation of the Jesuits and other religious from Portugal which
was decreed by the Republican government, on October 10, 1910, six days
after the bombardment of the royal palace and the flight of King Manuel,
is typical of the manner in which such demonstrations are made in
Europe. We have an account of it from the Father provincial Cabral which
we quote in part.
"After the press had been working up the populace for three years to the
proper state of mind by stories of subterranean arsenals in the Jesuit
colleges; the boundless wealth of the Fathers; their affiliated secret
organizations; their political plots, etc., the colleges of Campolide
and San Fiel were invaded. The occupants were driven out and led between
lines of soldiers through a howling mob to the common jail. Those who
had fled before the arrival of the soldiers were pursued across the
fields with rifles, and when caught were insulted, beaten and spat
upon, and led like the others to prison. They had to eat out of the
dishes with their hands, and at night sentinels stood over them with
loaded rifles and warned the victims that if they got up they would be
shot. Abandoned women were sent in among them, but those poor creatures
soon withdrew. The prisoners were then transferred to Caixas where they
slept on the floor. Twenty-three were confined in a space that could
scarcely accommodate three. They were kept there for four days, and were
not allowed to leave the room for any reason whatever, and were told
that they would be kept in that condition until they began to rot, and
that then some of their rich friends would buy them off. They were
photographed, subjected to anthropometric examinations, and their finger
prints taken, etc. They were then expelled from the country and
forbidden ever to return. They had only the clothes on their backs, and
had no money except what was given them by some friends; their colleges
with their splendid museums and libraries were confiscated, and in this
condition they set out, old and young, the sick and the strong, to ask
shelter from their brethren in other lands. It was almost a return to
the days of Pombal."
In Germany the Kulturkampf began in 1870, and in 1872 a decree was
signed by the Kaiser, on June 14, 1872, expelling all members of the
Society, and with them the Redemptorists, Lazarists, Fathers of the Holy
Ghost, and the Society of the Sacred Heart. Some of the Jesuits went to
Holland; others to England and America. Contrary to expectations, this
act of tyranny did not harm the German province, for, whereas it then
numbered only 775, it now (1920) has 1210 on its roll, of whom 664 are
priests.
France had its horror in 1871, when on May 24 and 26, Fathers Olivaint,
Ducoudray, Caubert, Clerc and de Bengy were shot to death by the
Communists, who were then in possession of Paris. It was not, however, a
rising against the Jesuits. There were fifty-seven victims in all:
priests, religious and seculars, were immolated. At their head, was the
venerable Archbishop of Paris, Mgr. Darboy. Again, on March 29, 1880, a
decree issued by Jules Ferry brought about a new dispersion and the
substitution of staffs of non-religious teachers in the Jesuit colleges.
The law was not enforced, however, and little by little the Fathers
returned to their posts. Then followed the law of Waldeck-Rousseau in
1901 against unauthorized congregations, which closed all their houses,
for these religious declined to apply for authorization which they knew
would be refused, or if not, would be used to oppress them. The
communities were, therefore, scattered in various houses of Europe. The
last blow was the summons sent to all parts of the world for every
Frenchman not exempt from military service to take part in the great
World War, as chaplains, hospital aids or common soldiers.
The simultaneity as well as the similarity in the methods of executing
these multiplied expulsions show clearly enough that they were not
accidental but part of a universal war against the Church. Thus, at the
other ends of the earth, similar outrages were being committed. When,
for instance, the Conservatives fell from power in Colombia, South
America, in 1850, the Jesuits were expelled. They went from there to
Ecuador and Guayaquil, but were left unmolested only for a year. In 1861
they were re-admitted, and soon had fifty mission stations and had
succeeded in converting 10,000 natives to the faith. But Garcia Moreno
who had invited them was assassinated, and forthwith they were expelled.
A second time they were recalled, but remained only from 1883 to 1894,
and from there they returned to Colombia where they are at present. In
Argentina, whither they were summoned in 1836, their houses were closed
in 1841. They entered Paraguay in 1848, where the old Society had
achieved such triumphs, but were allowed to remain there only three
years. They asked the Chilian government to let them evangelize the
fierce Araucanian savages, but this was refused. At the death of the
dictator Rosas in 1873, they again went to Argentina and have not since
been disturbed. They have had the same good fortune in Chile.
A different condition of things, however, obtained in Brazil. In the
very year that Rosas died in Argentina, 1873, the Jesuit College of
Olinda in Brazil was looted and the Fathers expelled. The reason was not
that the Jesuits were objectionable but that the bishop had suspended a
young ecclesiastic who was a Freemason. The College of Pernambuco was
wrecked by a mob, and one of the priests was dangerously wounded. Worse
treatment was meted out to them when the Emperor, Don Pedro, was deposed
in 1889. Since then, however, there has been comparatively no trouble.
Of course, when the Piedmontese broke down the Porta Pia the Jesuits had
to leave Rome, where until then they had been undisturbed. The novitiate
of S. Andrea was the first to be seized; then St. Eusebio, the house of
the third probation, and after that, St. Vitalis, the Gesù, and finally
the Roman College. The occupants had three months to vacate the
premises. The other religious orders whose general or procurator resided
at Rome could retain one house for the transaction of business but that
indulgence was not granted to the Jesuits. Their General was not to
remain, and hence Father Peter Beckx, though then seventy-eight years
old, had to depart with his brethren for Fiesole, where he was received
in the family of the Counts of Ricasole on November 9, 1873. From that
place he governed the Society until the year 1884, when he was succeeded
by Father Anthony Anderledy, who remained in the same city until he
died. Father Luis Martín, the next General, returned to Rome in 1893, so
that Fiesole was the centre of the Society for twenty years.
As the chief representative of Christ on Earth is the most prominent
victim of these spoliations, and as he has been frequently driven into
exile and is at present only tolerated in his own territory, the Society
of Jesus with the other religious orders cannot consider it a reproach
but rather a glory to be treated like him. How does the Society survive
all these disasters? It continues as if nothing had happened, and one
reads with amazement the statement of Father General Wernz at the
meeting of the procurators held in September and October 1910, when in a
tone that is almost jubilant he congratulates the Society on its
"flourishing condition." He said in brief:
"There are five new provinces; a revival of the professed houses; new
novitiates, scholasticates, tertianships and courses in the best
colleges for students of special subjects; and a superior course for
Jesuit students of canon law in the Gregorian University. Next year
there are to be accommodations for 300 theologians (boarders) at
Innsbruck, which institution will be a Collegium Maximum for philosophy,
theology and special studies. The novitiate is to be moved to the
suburbs of Vienna. In the province of Galicia sufficient ground has been
bought to make the College of Cracow similar to Innsbruck, and a
beautiful church is being built there. The province of Germany though
dispersed has built in Holland an immense novitiate and house of
retreats and the Luxemburg house of writers is to be united to the
Collegium Maximum of Valkenburg. The Holland province has more
diplomated professors than any other in the Society, and is about to
build a new scholasticate. Louvain is becoming more and more a house of
special studies. In England, the Campion house at Oxford is continuing
its success and there is question of moving St. Beuno's. The Irish
province is looking for another site for the novitiate and juniorate,
and is using the University to form better teachers. Canada is looking
for another place for its novitiate and so are Mexico, Brazil and
Argentina, while Maryland is trying to put its scholasticate near New
York.
"Not much remains to be done in Spain. However, Toledo has established a
scholasticate in Murcia, and Aragon is planning one for Tarragona.
France is dispersed, but it has furnished excellent professors for the
Biblical Institute and the Gregorian University. In the mission of
Calcutta, 130,000 pagans have been brought to the Faith and in one
Chinese mission, 12,000. The numbers could be doubled if there were more
workers." This was in 1910, and within a week of this pronouncement, the
expulsion in Portugal took place; in 1914 the war broke out which
shattered Belgium and made France more wretched than ever. What the
future will be no one knows.