Gonsalvez de Oliveira, Bishop of Olinda, had found it necessary to warn
his diocesans against the machinations of certain secret societies, which
were alike hostile to the Church and to the State. They had obtained so
much influence with the latter as to be able to attack, with impunity, the
Sisters of Charity, and the priests of the Lazarist congregation, as well
as all other zealous priests who sought to restore the discipline of the
church. Whilst, on the one hand, the bishop was sustained by the
congratulations and encouragement of the Holy See, and by the deference to
ecclesiastical authority of many Catholics who had been accustomed to
consider the secret societies as most inoffensive associations, he was
urged, on the other hand, by the fury of the chiefs of those societies,
who, alone, know all that they aim at and hold secret.
The Emperor, Don Pedro II., influenced by his free-thinking _entourage_,
judged that the pastoral letter should be denounced to the Council of
State. The councillors declared that it was an illegal document, not
having received the Imperial _placet_ “required by the Constitution of the
Empire.” Now commenced the most heartless, and, as is always the case,
unavailing persecution. By order of the ministry, the procurator-general
summoned the Bishop of Olinda before the Supreme Court of Rio Janeiro. The
intrepid prelate replied by a letter, in which he declared that he could
not, in conscience, appear before the Supreme Court, because it was
impossible to do so, without acknowledging the competence of a civil court
in matters purely religious. On 3rd January, 1874, the bishop was ordered
to go to prison. He intimated that he would yield only to force. The chief
of police, accordingly, accompanied by two army officers, repaired to the
Episcopal palace, and conducted Mgr. de Oliveira to the port where a ship
of war was in attendance, to transport him to the maritime arsenal of Rio
Janeiro, one of the most unwholesome stations in Brazil. There the
illustrious prisoner was visited by Mgr. Lacerda, Bishop of Rio Janeiro,
who took off his pectoral cross, which was a family keep-sake, and placing
it around the neck of Mgr. Oliveira, said: “My Lord, you have full
jurisdiction throughout this land to which you are brought as a captive.
My clergy, the chapter of my cathedral, all will be most happy to obey
your orders. Have the goodness to bless us all. The blessing of those who
suffer persecution in the cause of Christ is a pledge of salvation.”
Bishop Lacerda, before retiring, handed to the prisoner a large sum of
money, in order that he should want for nothing, and promised to renew his
visit as often as the gaolers would permit. Almost all the bishops of
Brazil sent congratulatory telegrams to the imprisoned bishop. One of them
went so far as to identify himself with the action of the Bishop of
Olinda, by doing in like manner. It was the Bishop of Para, who was
speedily transferred from his Episcopal palace to prison. The
administrator who filled his place, having refused to remove the interdict
which had been pronounced against certain confraternities which admitted
members of the secret societies, was condemned on 25th April, 1875, to six
years of forced penal labor. Four years of the like torture were decreed
against the administrator of Olinda for a similar offence. So much for the
humanitarian Emperor of Brazil and his enlightened advisers.
It was not long till new elections raised to power, men who had more
respect for the Episcopal office, and the wretched Brazilian persecution
came to an end.
The Bishop of Olinda was no sooner set at liberty than he repaired to
Rome, in order to give an account of his conduct to Pius IX. The Holy
Father gave him every proof of the warmest affection.
The lesser States of South America, which, on being emancipated from the
yoke of Spain, had chosen the republican form of government, became a
source of intense anxiety to the Holy Father. Venezuela, Chili, the
Argentine Republic, and, even Hayti, appear to have been seized with the
spirit of the time. They had become too great, one would say, to accept
humbly the teachings of religion. Even Chili, where comparative moderation
prevailed, made an attempt to subordinate in all things, spiritual as well
as temporal, the Church to the State. The bishops, as in duty bound,
protested; and, being unanimously supported by the people, the attack of
Chilian free-thinkers, on public peace and liberty, was abandoned. The
trouble in Hayti arose more from a desire, on the part of the negroes, to
have native priests than any real hostility to religion. The government
ignorantly assumed the right to appoint the chief administrators of the
Church. The people were painfully affected by this unwarrantable
encroachment on the spiritual power. It was hardly to be supposed that
Peru should be out of the fashion. Pius IX. appears, however, to have
settled the difficulties of the Peruvians, by granting to their presidents
the same right of patronage which was formerly enjoyed by the Kings of
Spain. The religious troubles of Mexico were not so easily composed. The
civil authorities of that sadly unsettled republic, urged, it is believed,
by the secret societies, aimed at nothing less than the total suppression
of religion. On 24th November, 1874, they decreed that no public
functionary or body of officials, whether civil or military, should attend
any religious office whatsoever. “The Sunday or Sabbath day,” they
impiously ruled, “shall henceforth be tolerated only in as far as it
affords rest to public employees.” Religious instruction, together with
all practices of religion, was prohibited in all the establishments of the
federation of the States and the municipalities. No religious act could be
done except in the churches, and there, only, under the superintendence of
the police. No religious institution was authorized to acquire real estate
or any capital accruing from such property. Article nineteen of this
detestable legislation, and which was carried by one hundred and thirteen
to fifty-seven votes, interdicted the Sisters of Charity from living in
community and wearing publicly their costume. Thus were expelled from
Mexico four hundred sisters, who performed their charitable offices in the
hospitals, schools and asylums of the country. Public opinion was roused,
but to no purpose. The good sisters were allowed to embark for France,
bearing with them the fate of thousands of the unfortunate. They may,
perhaps, be replaced by the Prussian chancellor’s deaconesses; of this
sisterhood, the best suited for the Mexican climate, would, no doubt, be
that portion which fled from Smyrna on the approach of an epidemic.