EARLY STORMS
For the events of the next ten years, which will be narrated in this
chapter, we still rely almost entirely on Jesuit writers. The statement
may sound like an insinuation of dishonesty, but it is merely a
reminder that our authorities are panegyrists rather than historians.
Their purpose was wholly different from that of the modern historian,
and their selection and treatment of documents correspondingly
differed. It would be ingenuous to imagine that they loaded the scales
of good and evil, success and failure, with impartial hand. Here and
there, however, some scandal was so widely known in their day, and so
eagerly pressed by their opponents, that it were wiser to put a bold
gloss upon it than to ignore it, and thus we of the later date can just
discern the human form under the thick veil of panegyric. It becomes
more and more apparent after the death of Ignatius. Father Sacchini,
who takes up the pen laid down by Orlandini, is just as loyal to his
order, but it becomes more frequently necessary to excuse and explain,
and at times he candidly censures. The Society is shaken by "very
fierce storms," and one of these breaks upon it in his earliest pages.
The Constitutions provided that at the death of a General there should
be a Vicar-General appointed, and he should proceed to summon the
leading fathers of every province for the election. Now, Ignatius had
appointed a Vicar to assist him in his last years, and it was generally
felt that this Father Natalis would be Vicar-General and control the
election. Natalis was in Spain, however, and Lainez, although very ill,
was in Rome. We remember Lainez as the learned and masterful Castilian
who had once provoked Ignatius to use very plain speech. There were
only five fathers at Rome, including Lainez, who were entitled to vote
for the Vicar-General, and Lainez helped to simplify the issue by
casting a blank vote, like Ignatius, or "leaving the matter to God." He
was appointed, and he fixed the more important election for November.
For this he had to summon the Provincials, Assistants, and two Prefects
from each of the twelve provinces of the Society. One imagines a large
and varied body, but in point of fact there were only about twenty
voters; those in Brazil and the Indies could not be expected, while
the "province of Ethiopia" (or Abyssinia) existed only on paper. It
happened, moreover, that as the Pope was at war with Spain, the Spanish
fathers could not come, and Lainez dare not proceed without them.
They were of opinion that Natalis ought to have been recognised as
Vicar-General.
Thus the election had to be postponed for two years, and Lainez
continued, on the strength of four votes, to act as General. The
remarkable events of those two years are of great importance in
studying the character of the early Society. Two very serious conflicts
arose, one between the Jesuits themselves, and one with the Pope, and
it is in such conflicts that the real character appears. Crétineau-Joly
suppresses the one altogether and grossly mis-states the other; he is
not only less candid, but far less truthful, even than the original
Jesuit authorities. If we wish to form a just estimate of the early
Jesuits, not merely to admire the many virtues they possessed, we must
consider these conflicts with care, as they are recorded by Sacchini in
the "Historia Societatis."
Lainez at once presented himself, as temporary head of the Society,
to the Pope, and prepared for a struggle. Ranke's fine picture of
Caraffa, who had now become Paul IV., will be remembered. A dark and
stormy Neapolitan, an ardent Italian patriot, he would, as he sat
over his fiery southern wine, express the fiercest disdain of the
Spaniards, and trust to see them swept out of the Italian peninsula.
He had disliked Ignatius and, Sacchini says, spoken slightingly of
him after his death. On the other hand, he was a deeply religious
man and sincere reformer, and he recognised that there was precious
stuff, from the Church's point of view, in this new Society. Should he
fuse it with the Theatines, or merely clip its outrageous privileges,
and bring it nearer the common level of the religious orders? He was
known to hesitate between the two policies, and Lainez was determined
to resist both, implacably, and teach the papacy the real value of
the famous fourth vow. And Lainez was a cold, resolute, clear-headed
man of forty-five: Caraffa a nervous and impetuous old man of eighty.
The conflict was postponed, however, until the Society had a properly
constituted authority. Paul was content to warn Lainez that the Jesuits
must be careful of their ways, and to remind him that what a Pope had
given a Pope might take away.
A few months later the domestic conflict opened. The spirited Bobadilla
protested that Diego Lainez had usurped authority over the Society;
the proper thing to do in these unforeseen circumstances was to divide
the leadership between the five survivors of the ten original Jesuits.
Rodriguez, who still smarted under his humiliation, Sacchini says, was
persuaded to take this view; Cogordan a "stiff-necked" brother whom
Lainez had ventured to correct, joined them; and even the meek and
gentle Brouet was drawn into the revolt. For many months the austere
silence of the Roman house was enlivened with the singular quarrel.
The rebels wrote lengthy indictments of Lainez and secretly circulated
them among the brethren; and somehow, says the historian, copies of
their _libelli_ always reached the hands of Lainez, while he himself
wrote nothing. Then Cogordan told two cardinals, who were to tell the
Pope, that Lainez proposed to hold the election in Spain, so that they
might pass their Constitutions without the Pope's interference. The
idea was certainly entertained, and we can easily believe that Lainez
favoured it. Paul angrily ordered that no Jesuit was to quit Rome, and
closed his door against Lainez. A union of this powerful and casuistic
body with the King of Spain was one of the last things Paul wished to
see; and he looked forward to the passing of their Constitutions as
his opportunity to clip their wings. At last Lainez severed Rodriguez
and Brouet from the rebels, and Bobadilla made a direct application to
the Pope for his share in the administration of the Society. To the
scandal or the entertainment of Rome, Cardinal Carpi was appointed to
arbitrate on the domestic quarrels of the children of St. Ignatius.
His decision--that Lainez should remain Vicar-General, but consult the
older fathers--did not put an end to the unseemly quarrelling, and
Lainez in turn appealed to the Pope, secured the appointment of another
cardinal, and silenced the rebels. We can imagine the feelings of Paul
IV. When a cardinal told him that Lainez had charged Bobadilla with an
honourable mission at Foligno, and had sentenced the wicked Cogordan
to say _one_ Pater and Ave, he crossed himself: as a Neapolitan does
when the spirit of evil is about. He was astonished at the obstinacy
of the rebels, says Sacchini; but there are those who fancy that what
really impressed him was the astuteness of Lainez. He was to have more
painful experience of it anon.
While the leaders quarrelled for the mantle of the master at Rome,
there was grave trouble in the provinces. In that year (1557) John III.
died in Portugal, many valuable workers were lost, and the judgment of
the University of Paris and the scalding indictments of Melchior Cano
were translated into every tongue in Europe. There was no possibility
under Paul IV. of countering these things by conversation at the
Vatican. It was imperative to hold the election as soon as possible and
return to the field. The end of the war came in 1558, and by May the
twenty voters were assembled in the Roman house. They were to elect a
general and endorse the Constitutions, now completed by Lainez.
There was friction at first because Lainez issued to the fathers
certain orders which aimed at preventing canvassing, but in July they
proceeded to the election. To their dismay Cardinal Pacheco entered
the room, on the election day, and said that the Pope had sent him
to preside. He genially assured them, however, that he would not
interfere, and they cast their votes. Lainez was elected by thirteen
votes out of twenty. They then held a number of sittings on the
Constitutions, and prepared for a struggle with the Pope. This struggle
is not without some humour when we reflect that the Society of Jesus
was, so to say, the Pope's private regiment, the one order that made
a special vow of obedience to him, the most exaggerated champion in
Christendom of his authority. It was the first occasion on which the
Vatican was to realise that it might count on the abject obedience of
the Jesuits as long as the Jesuits dictated its decrees. Lainez and
his colleagues were determined by every means in their power to thwart
the will of Paul IV. and suffer no interference with their own will.
They quietly endorsed their Constitutions, and prepared to go to their
provinces. It is impossible to find what precise order the Pope had
given them to alter their Constitutions, but he had certainly done so
in some form, and his anger broke out stormily. He sent a cardinal to
say that they must reconsider the question of chanting in choir, as
other religious bodies did, and of appointing a general only for a term
of three years.
The Jesuits were "surprised," but obedient. They "reconsidered" the
points, and drew up a report to the effect that they were unanimously
opposed to change. Lainez and Salmeron were directed to wait on the
Pope and present this report, and some brave language--such language
as a Pope rarely heard, and must have been amazed to hear from a
Jesuit, if it were really spoken--is put into the mouth of Lainez at
the audience by Sacchini. The historian admits, however, that they
did not present the report. Paul sternly told them that they were
"contumacious," indeed not far removed from heresy (which was true),
and he cut short their defence with a peremptory command to do as
they were bidden. With an eye on the gray hairs of the octogenarian
Pope they retired to mend their rules and order the chanting of the
office. It now appeared that of their hundred establishments only
two were "houses," and they contented themselves with ordering that
vespers should be chanted in these houses--until Paul IV. died. They
had secretly asked the opinion of a learned cardinal on the value of
the Pope's command. Cardinal Puteo was not merely an expert on such
matters; he was Dean of the Rota, and in a position to dissolve the
Pope's order, as he eventually did. He told them that it was a "simple
command," and that, as the decree of his predecessor, excusing them
from choir, was not expressly abrogated, it would come into force again
at the death of Paul IV. With this assurance they meekly submitted to
the Pope, and scattered to their respective missions.
I have narrated this curious story at some length, relying entirely
on the Jesuit Sacchini, because it is of extreme significance for one
who would judge the character and history of the Society. Catholic
historians, who suppress it entirely or give a very misleading version
of it, are clearly of opinion that the mere record of the facts will
disturb their readers, while anti-Catholic writers enlarge on it with
pleasure. Those who desire to have an intelligent and just estimate
of the Jesuits can neither ignore nor misinterpret such facts. That
Lainez was personally ambitious, that his eagerness for power had not
entirely the unselfish character of such ambition as we may recognise
in Ignatius, can hardly be doubted. But Brouet and Salmeron shared and
supported his conduct, and in those two, at least, one is disposed to
see the first spirit of the Regiment of Jesus in its original purity.
The clue to the seeming inconsistency or hypocrisy of such men defying
or evading the Pope's commands I have already indicated. The Society of
Jesus had consecrated diplomacy to the service of God. If a Pope would
strip their order of those distinctions and privileges which, in their
conviction, peculiarly fitted it to carry on the holy war, he was not
acting as the Vicar of Christ, and his commands must be evaded. It did
not occur to them that this was, in the end, the Protestant principle
of private judgment, against which they thundered the doctrine of
papal authority. They were the children of Ignatius, who had always
felt that _his_ private judgment was the judgment of God. So Jesuitism
moved slowly toward its inevitable goal.
One other incident at Rome may be recorded before we distribute the
events of the next seven years in their national departments. A little
more than a year after the election, on 18th August 1559, Paul IV.
died. How the Romans, stung by the misery they had suffered during
his war with Spain and the brutalities of his Inquisition, burst
into the streets with wild rejoicing, and attacked the palace of the
Inquisitors, and how the new Pope surrendered the criminal nephews of
his predecessor, including a cardinal of the Church, to the scaffold,
must be read in general history. The fact that the Jesuits were called
to sustain Cardinal Caraffa in his last hours is of no significance. It
is more pertinent to tell that Lainez returned to the learned Cardinal
Puteo, and the odious command of Paul IV. was declared to have died
with him.
It is said that Lainez himself was proposed for the papacy after the
death of Paul IV. The conclave of cardinals on such an occasion is,
as is known, as isolated as a jury-room, but a cardinal might summon
his confessor, and it is not only stated by Sacchini, but confirmed by
Cardinal Otho years afterwards, that Lainez was called in by Otho and
told that his name would be proposed. We have no just ground to doubt
this statement, but we have very good reason to refuse to regard it as
a serious proposal. The papal election of 1559 lasted three months,
and was marked by a bitter struggle of France, Spain, and Italy. It
engrossed the attention of Europe, yet not a single Roman ambassador
or prelate of the time mentions the name of Lainez. Even the words
used by Cardinal Otho years afterwards are known to us only in a Jesuit
version.
Cardinal Medici, who now became Pius IV., proved to be one of the
most generous patrons of the Society. Although he was a Pope of the
cultured and liberal type, and would have little personal inclination
to favour them, he seems to have concluded that the Jesuits were the
most formidable champions of his authority, and he gave them many
privileges. It was he who, in 1561, gave them permission to build
within the sphere of other orders, and to grant academic degrees in
their colleges, and he directed his local representatives everywhere
to protect and aid them. With such an auxiliary the vigorous and
gifted general was enabled to conduct the affairs of his Society with
a success which will appear as we review its life in the various
provinces. Only one further personal detail need be added in regard
to Lainez. Although the orders of Caraffa had been declared void, he
professed a scruple when he had held the generalship for three years,
and proposed to resign. In view of his behaviour at the election one is
not disposed to look for sincerity in this scruple, nor does the issue
suggest it. His confessor told him that he must consult his councillors
(or assistants). They resisted his proposal, but he still affected
qualms, and sent a circular letter to all the professed fathers, in
which he purported to place before them, for their guidance, all the
pros and cons of his design. The letter is, however, a transparent plea
for power. The electors unanimously insisted that he should retain
office, and he returned to his task with firmer authority.
The British Isles still remained a dark and almost inaccessible
territory on the Jesuit map, but Englishmen, flying from the penal laws
of Elizabeth, began to enter the Society on the continent, and one or
two secret missions were sent out. Thomas King was sent from Louvain
to England, but he died in the following year (1565), and is merely
stated to have made a few converts. Another refugee in Belgium, an
Irishman named David Woulfe, had been sent in 1560 to his native land
with the position of Nuncio. He was so effectively disguised that in
France he was arrested as a Lutheran. His early reports represent him
as an austere spectator of the general corruption of the Irish clergy,
monks, and people. He speaks of giving absolution, in one year, to
a thousand penitents who had contracted "incestuous marriages," and
describes the people coming to his retreat in their shirts and bare
feet. Father Woulfe seems to have caught the taint, however, as he was
some years later ignominiously expelled from the Society. William Good,
a Somersetshire man, and "Edmund the Irishman," joined him in 1564,
distributing to the peasantry the dispensations and indulgences which
England proscribed, to the grave inconvenience of the papal treasury.
The mission to Scotland was not less adventurous. It was the year
1562, when Mary Queen of Scots had returned from France, full of sad
foreboding, to the land of John Knox. Nicholas Gouda was sent from
Louvain, in the secret character of Nuncio, to console and assist
her, and two Scottish students, Hay and Crichton, accompanied him.
They were dressed as gentlemen of quality, who would see the world.
Unfortunately, Crichton betrayed the secret to an acquaintance at
Leith, and the fiery cross passed from pulpit to pulpit in the city of
Edinburgh. Gouda sent Crichton back to Louvain and went on himself to
Edinburgh. After many fruitless attempts to see Mary, he was at last
admitted one night, by a postern gate, to the presence of the beautiful
and distracted young queen, but there was nothing to be done. He
asked that the bishops might be assembled somewhere to meet him, and
it appeared that there was only one bishop, on one of the islands, who
would venture to receive him, if he were well disguised. It seems that
the least remarkable dress to don on visiting his lordship was that
of a money-lender, and Father Nicholas, so habited, traversed wild
and stern Caledonia. The rumour of his presence got about, and the
Covenanters kept watch at Edinburgh for his return. A French merchant
coming in from Aberdeen was sorely beaten by them before he could prove
his identity. But two of the faithful met Gouda outside Edinburgh, and
they sailed, with a small band of Scottish aspirants, for Belgium.
In Italy the story is one of much progress and bitter hostility. By
1561 there were two hundred and sixty Jesuits (in the broadest sense
of the word) in Rome, of whom a hundred and ninety were students in
the Roman college. They were prospering in the sunshine of the Pope's
favour. Elsewhere in Italy, however, they received hard blows. No less
than four serious storms broke on the Society in various parts of Italy
in the year 1561.
First it was reported from the Valtellina that the fathers had been
expelled, and forbidden the whole territory of the Grisons, on the
ground that they had shown an undue eagerness in securing an old man's
money. Next there was trouble in Montepulciano. The good fathers
had, Sacchini says, induced so large a proportion of the women of
Montepulciano to lead proper lives that the men were infuriated. They
bribed a loose woman to attempt to seduce one of the Jesuits, and they
engaged a man to dress as a Jesuit and let himself be seen coming from
a disorderly house. The Montepulciano version of the matter is, of
course, that one Jesuit accosted a woman and another was seen leaving
an unbecoming house. To make matters worse, a woman accused the Jesuit
rector, Father Gambar, of intimacy with her sister. It was an act of
jealousy, as the two sisters had competed for the rector's smiles; it
is, however, admitted that Father Gambar had been "indiscreet" in his
letters to the lady, which were made public. The civic authorities
took the darker view, and requested the removal of Gambar. When Lainez
refused, the townsfolk threatened to talk to the rector themselves,
and he fled. Lainez held that he was innocent, but expelled him from
the Society for running away without permission. He sent some of the
older Jesuits to restore order in Montepulciano, but it was no use. The
citizens withdrew the pension they had hitherto given the Jesuits, for
teaching, and refused to give them alms or house. Lainez fought, with
his ablest men and subsidies from Rome, for a year or two, but he was
beaten and forced to dissolve the college.
Then Venice reported difficulties. The new Archbishop, Trevisani,
detested the Jesuits, and assured his friends that the _chiappini_
("humbugs," to translate it politely) would not remain long in Venice
under his rule. Incidents multiplied, and in 1561 the Senate fell to
discussing the fathers and did not spare them. The gist of the charge
was that they were foreigners meddling with the affairs of Venice;
they confessed all the noble ladies of Venice, called on them in their
homes, and through them learned the official secrets. The debate ended
with words, though the Doge summoned Father Palmio and warned him to be
prudent; and the men of Venice, quoting Montepulciano, used a little
domestic authority to keep their wives away from Jesuit confessionals.
From Naples, in the same year, came news of hostility and obloquy.
Salmeron had been recalled from Naples to Rome, and offensive observers
began to form theories of the recall. When the legend had grown to
its full proportions, it ran that Father Salmeron had extorted four
thousand pounds from a dying woman, before he would absolve her, and
had, when the Pope heard and asked an explanation, fled to Geneva and
turned Protestant. The boys sang ballads in the street about Father
Salmeron and his four thousand pounds, and the college had troubled
experiences. Why Salmeron was not sent down to refute the legend, and
whether there really was some little difficulty about a sum of money,
we cannot say. But the incident shows that Catholic Naples was largely
hostile to the Jesuits. The Pope had to intervene and use the authority
of the Viceroy.
A few years later a more serious storm broke out in the north. In
all these cases of charges against the early Jesuits it is extremely
difficult to ascertain the truth; the case is always stated for us by
the defence. It happens that in the case of the trouble at Milan in
1563 we have one independent document, and I state the facts a little
more fully. It matters little whether the various Jesuits were guilty
or not in these local disturbances, and most people will conclude,
roughly, that they were probably not all immaculate and impeccable. But
it is worth while ascertaining if all this violent hostility to the
Jesuits, among Catholic peoples, is really founded on disappointed vice
or idle calumny, and we may take the Milan affair as a type.
The famous Cardinal-Archbishop of Milan, Carolo Borromeo, was a nephew
of the Pope. He received his position in 1560, at the early age of
twenty-two, and was soon under the influence of the Jesuits. It was
reported to the Pope that Charles was giving large sums of money to
the Jesuits, and seemed to have an idea of joining the Society. Then
the young archbishop's Jesuit confessor, Father Ribera, was accused
of unnatural vice with a page in the establishment of Donna Virginia,
Charles's sister-in-law. Sacchini says that Charles investigated the
charge and found it false, and that a bishop who insisted on it (and
accused other Jesuits besides Ribera) was brought before Cardinal
Savelli at Rome, produced his witnesses--a number of discharged or
former students at the Jesuit college--and was himself punished for
libel. It is added that Charles continued to entrust his seminary to
the Jesuits, and would not have done so if they were guilty. Ribera, it
is acknowledged, was sent to the Indies by Lainez, but only because the
Pope disliked his influence on Charles.
The Jesuit case is, as usual, plausible, but does not satisfy a close
inquirer. To send a distinguished and fashionable Jesuit to the Indies
because he is making his penitent more pious than the Pope likes,
especially at a time when he is charged with vice, is hardly the kind
of action we should expect in so prudent a man as Lainez. It was a
very drastic measure to put five thousand miles between Ribera and
his saintly penitent. As to Cardinal Savelli's inquiry, we can quite
believe that the Pope would be willing to draw a veil over a scandal,
which might ruin the Society in Italy, once Lainez had sent the chief
culprit on the foreign missions; Cardinal Savelli was, moreover, the
patron and protector of the Jesuits, and he seems to have dismissed the
witnesses unheard on the ground that they were expelled or seceding
students of the Society. We can further understand that Charles might
remain friendly with the Jesuits if he believed that one man only
was guilty, and that man was punished; but we shall see in the next
chapter that the relations of Charles and the Jesuits _were_ disturbed,
and that in 1578 they made an extraordinarily insolent attack on the
cardinal in his own city.
But the chief point is that an almost contemporary writer, Caspar
Schoppe, maintains on the highest authority that the Jesuit schools at
Milan were deeply tainted with vice. Schoppe is an ardent anti-Jesuit,
and must be read with discretion when his authority is remote. In
this case he calls God to witness that Cardinal Frederic Borromeo,
the nephew and successor of Charles, said in his (Schoppe's) presence
that he had himself found the Jesuit college at Braida so corrupt that
he would not suffer any Jesuit to come near him, would not allow any
student of his seminary to approach a Jesuit teacher, and would, if he
had the power, forbid any Jesuit to teach.[3] Crétineau-Joly replies
that Schoppe is evidently lying, since the known date of his birth
makes it impossible that he should ever have conversed with _Charles_
Borromeo. This confusion of Frederic and Charles is originally due
to Quesnel, who makes that mistake in quoting Schoppe, but it is
very singular that the French apologist for the Jesuits should not
know that Schoppe spoke of _Frederic_ Borromeo, not Charles, as is
pointed out in later editions of Quesnel. It is still more singular
that Crétineau-Joly assures his readers (who are not likely to make an
arduous search for Schoppe's ancient work) that the statement is made
"sous forme dubitative," when he must know that it is the most solemn
and emphatic statement in Schoppe's book. The impartial student must
conclude that there is grave evidence against the Milan Jesuits, and
that hostility to the Jesuits had at times a more respectable ground
than they are willing to admit.
The Pope did not stint his patronage of the Society on account of
these accusations. When the Cardinal-Protector of the Society died in
1564, Pius IV. undertook that office himself, as if to intimidate its
critics; though the critics were not in the least intimidated. Shortly
afterwards he appointed a commission of cardinals and prelates to
consider the establishment of a seminary at Rome, and they recommended
that the Jesuits should have charge of it. The proposal inflamed the
Roman critics of the Society, and Montepulciano and Milan and all the
other scandals were fiercely discussed. The Pope held firm, however,
and the struggle had not ended when Lainez died.
In Spain and Portugal the Society continued to make material progress
and, in the same proportion, morally to deteriorate. Favoured by the
genial clime of the Peninsula, the Society ran quickly through its
normal course of development and bore precocious fruit. The college at
Coimbra had, as we have seen, needed purification even under Ignatius.
It now prospered again, and maintained about a hundred and fifty
novices and priests. But the most notable feature of the Portuguese
province was the early interference of the Jesuits in politics. The
primitive design of avoiding politics and forbidding Jesuits to
frequent the courts of princes had first been set aside by Ignatius
himself, and was quite inconsistent with the general idea of obtaining
the favour of the rich and powerful. In Portugal the court was now
dominated by Jesuits; Father Miguel de Torres was confessor of the
Queen-Regent Catherine, Father Gonzales da Camara confessor of the
young King Sebastian, and Father Leo Henriquez confessor of Cardinal
Dom Henry, the King's grand-uncle. It may be read in any history
of Portugal how the Cardinal began, at the instigation and with the
assistance of the Jesuits, to intrigue for the Regency, and in 1562
forced Catherine to abdicate. In a letter, dated 8th June 1571, which
Catherine afterwards wrote to General Borgia, we are plainly informed
of the intrigues of the confessors. "Everyone knows," says the Queen,
"that the evils which afflict this kingdom are caused by some of your
fathers, who are so misguided as to advise the King, my grandson,
to displace me and expel me from my State." She had dismissed her
confessor Torres, who advised her to submit to the intrigues of her
brother and Father Gonzales, but after a five years' struggle she was
forced to retire from Spain. Father Gonzales then became the most
powerful man in Portugal, and made his brother Prime Minister, until,
as we shall see, Sebastian became old enough to put an end to their
intrigues.
In Spain the Society was less prosperous. The historic struggle at
Alcalà had ended in the capture of the university by the Jesuits,
but at Seville, Valladolid, and other towns there was persistent
opposition, and at Grenada a dangerous agitation arose because a Jesuit
confessor compelled a penitent to name her accomplice in vice. Borgia
himself had many enemies at court, and the opposition to him culminated
at length in an attack which compelled him to fly to Portugal. Two
works of piety which he had written in earlier years were denounced
to the Inquisition and condemned. It is said by the Jesuits that the
suspected passages in his books were interpolated by the man who
published them, and the point is of little interest. Borgia did not
remain to face the questions of the Inquisitors, and the King became so
angry with him that, when he was invited by Lainez to the metropolitan
house at Rome, the Spanish fathers warned Lainez that if any dignity
were conferred on Borgia it would be deeply resented at the court.
This trouble had hardly ended in the disgrace and flight of Borgia when
a very grave domestic quarrel arose in the Castilian province. Lainez
had sent Father Natalis from Rome to inspect the province, and the
Castilian Provincial, Father Araoz (nephew of Ignatius), discovered
that Natalis had secret instructions to destroy his position at court.
Araoz, the oldest Jesuit in Spain, and a favourite at court, had won a
position of comfort and power which was certainly not consistent with
the personal ideal of the Society. When, however, they endeavoured
to dislodge him, he took a drastic revenge on the Roman authorities.
Natalis was collecting and sending to Rome a good deal of money, when
an instruction was suddenly issued from the court pointing out that
it was against the laws of the kingdom to send money abroad or send
men to study in other countries. This order was openly attributed by
the Jesuits to the influence of Father Araoz. An angry quarrel ensued,
and one of the friends of Araoz produced the secret instructions
which Lainez had given to Natalis and some father had stolen. We need
not enlarge on this quarrel. It is more interesting to note that the
Jesuits urged that their action in sending money to Rome did not come
under the royal order since the Church has no frontiers. For some
years the affairs of the Society in Spain remained in a very troubled
condition, in spite of their great prosperity.
In France we naturally find the sternest struggle of the decade, as
the large Protestant population was supported by the majority of the
Catholics in opposition to the Jesuits. The early effort to woo Paris
by austerity of life and humble care of the sick had wholly failed.
The Archbishop, the university, and the lawyers of the Parlement
had observed that these humble ministers had the most formidable
privileges in their reserved baggage, and they had put the Jesuits out
of the gates. They remained in the meadows of St. Germain for five or
six years, and then, in 1560, Lainez ordered a fresh campaign. His
representative at Paris was the astute intriguer, Father Cogordan, who
had given Lainez painful proof of his ability at Rome. France was on
the eve of a terrible struggle of Catholics and Huguenots, and Cogordan
had little difficulty in persuading the Queen that the Jesuits were the
appointed force for checking Protestantism. The Parlement was ordered
to register the letters of Henry II., authorising the Jesuits. The
courageous lawyers refused once more, and the whole of the faculties of
the university joined in an emphatic condemnation of the Jesuits and
their privileges.
The next move of the Jesuits is noteworthy. Cogordan was instructed
to reply that the Jesuits would sacrifice, in France, any privileges
which were opposed to the laws of the country or the rights of the
French Church. Their opponents were quite aware that the sacrifice
was insincere and temporary, but the manoeuvre greatly weakened the
position of the Archbishop. As a last resource he stipulated that they
should also abandon the name "Society of Jesus," which many Catholics
considered offensively arrogant, and again Cogordan assented. The
Parlement, however, still refused to register the royal letters, and
threw the decision upon a Council which was to be held at Poissy, where
Catholics and Huguenots were to meet in a dialectical tourney.
Francis II. had died at the close of 1560, and Catherine de Medici,
the virtual ruler, was entirely won to the Jesuit view. But the
Huguenots, led by the Prince de Condé and Admiral de Coligny, were so
powerful that sober Catholic opinion favoured concession to them in
the interest of peace: a policy which the Jesuits ruthlessly opposed
wherever the Catholics were still in the majority. The Colloquy at
Poissy was, therefore, doubly interesting to the Jesuits, and Lainez
went in person, in the train of the Pope's legate, Cardinal d'Este, to
secure their aims; he was to obtain the recognition of the Society and
to prevent the reconciliation of Catholics and Huguenots. Unhappily he
succeeded in both designs. The Colloquy opened in July, when a small
group of the abler Huguenot divines confronted six cardinals and forty
bishops and archbishops, under the eyes of the King and Queen. When,
after a few sittings, it was seen that concessions must be made to the
heretics, Lainez delivered a fiery and eloquent discourse against this
proposed sacrilege. Catherine de Medici trembled, and would attend no
more sittings. The Colloquy ended in a futile wrangle of Lainez and the
Huguenots, and France, thanks very largely to Lainez, went on her way
toward St. Bartholomew.
The sincerity of Lainez in this fanatical gospel of intolerance
cannot be doubted, but it is in piquant contrast to the second part
of his mission, in which he equally succeeded. He brought with him
testimonials to the work done by his Society in a hundred places,
confirmed the promise that they would lay aside their privileges and
their very name (until it was safe to resume them), and thus secured
the right of entry into Paris for this nameless body of priests.
This was done, of course, by quiet activity among the prelates,
without any public discussion. Lainez remained several months in
France, strengthening the new foundation and--at the very time when
he was urging Condé, in a friendly correspondence, to induce the
Protestants to join in the Council of Trent--using the whole of his
great influence over the Queen and court to prevent any concession of
churches or other normal rights to the Huguenots. As a result of his
success, the Jesuits moved into Paris and took possession of the hotel
which the Bishop of Clermont had bequeathed them some years before. We
can hardly suppose that they were following the advice of the sagacious
Lainez when they inscribed over the door the words "College of the
Society of the Name of Jesus." This flippant evasion of their promise
to abandon their name did not tend to conciliate Parisians. When they
succeeded in a short time, with their free classes and ablest teachers,
in drawing some hundreds of youths from the university, they became
bolder and announced that the "Clermont College" was incorporated
with the university. The rector, Marchand, indignantly challenged
their claim, and they produced letters of incorporation which they had
secretly obtained from his predecessor two years before. They could
not insist on the validity of this irregular diploma, and the close of
the generalship of Lainez saw them once more in a position of grave
insecurity and unpopularity.
A somewhat similar struggle was taking place in Belgium. The university
and civic authorities at Louvain resisted them, and their college
remained so poor that we find its rector complaining to Rome of the
burden of supporting Father Ribadeneira, who, as we have previously
seen, had been sent to further Jesuit interests at the court of Philip
in Belgium. Even when Margaret of Austria, whom they easily secured,
bade the States of Brabant admit the Jesuits, they refused, and they
yielded only to the direct intervention of Philip in 1564.
On the other hand, the able and devoted Jesuit Canisius was laying
the foundation of his Society very firmly in the Catholic provinces
of Germany. Canisius is the greatest figure in the second decade of
the Society's life, and seems to have been a more deeply religious
and conscientious man than Lainez. He maintained to the end the more
austere standard of life, travelling afoot from city to city, from
Rhineland to Poland and Austria, and inaugurating everywhere the
effective system of education which Ranke has declared superior to that
of the Reformers. The University of Dillingen was entrusted to the
Jesuits, the frontiers of the Society were extended to Poland in 1554,
and the laity were identified with its interests in the Catholic cities
by being drafted into the numerous sodalities or confraternities which
the Jesuits controlled. The historian can dwell with more sympathy
on their generally enlightened struggle with Protestantism and with
Catholic corruption in Germany, where heresy provided them with a
bracing atmosphere and a healthy incentive to work. Even here, however,
we find them at times stooping to tactics which we cannot admire, and
the next chapter will introduce them to us in some singular adventures.
Their conduct in Bavaria, especially, does not invite close scrutiny.
Albert V. was heavily burdened with debt, and it is something more than
a coincidence that, the moment he admitted the Jesuits, the Vatican
made him a large grant out of ecclesiastical funds; it is even clearer
that the Jesuits were chiefly responsible for the persecution of
Protestants which followed their settlement in Bavaria.
Lainez had made a tour of these provinces after establishing his
Society in France. From Paris he had passed to Belgium, where the
Duchess of Parma was ruling in the name of her brother. Margaret had
heard Lainez preach at Rome, and he easily secured her interest for his
struggling brethren in Flanders. He then went on to Trent, where, in
1562, the Council resumed its sittings. There was no longer the least
hope of persuading the Reformers to attend, and it now remained for the
Church to decide what modifications it would adopt in order to meet the
Protestant indictment. The northern monarchs, confronted with the task
of reconciling large Catholic and Protestant populations, were disposed
to make concessions, and their clergy were at least eager to check the
arrogant claims and moderate the extravagance of the papal court. This
policy was opposed by Italy, Spain, and the Papacy, and the Jesuits
were the most violent partisans of the ultramontane attitude. It would,
perhaps, be an error to ascribe to Lainez a preponderant rôle in the
unhappy councils that were adopted at Trent, but whatever influence his
learning and eloquence gave him was used for the purpose of magnifying
the papal authority. Even the wealth and luxury of the Roman court,
which had been so largely responsible for the schism, found in him an
eloquent defender. He was able to return to Rome with an assurance that
the Catholic States made no concession, while the northern prelates had
to retire to their seats with grave foreboding of bloody struggle.
Of the Jesuit missions beyond the seas during this decade little need
be said. In India alone some material progress was made, and it was
largely due to tactics which promised no permanent result. Writers
like Crétineau-Joly deliberately omit the most significant details in
regard to these early missions, and give a most misleading impression
that tens of thousands of natives were gathered into the fold by the
spiritual teaching; and exalted labours of the missionaries. The early
Jesuits themselves are more candid. They tell, for instance, how in
1559 they made a descent, with an accompanying troop of soldiers, on
an island whose inhabitants had long resisted baptism. The natives were
held up by the troops, and their leaders were put in irons and told
that they were to be deported. In the circumstances they professed
themselves eager to be baptized, and the sacred rite and a good dinner
were at once bestowed on five hundred "converts." The Portuguese
authority was the chief agency on which the missionaries relied. The
most tempting privileges were granted to converts; the administrative
offices which the Hindoo clergy had exercised for ages were transferred
to the Jesuits; and in 1557 even the tribunal of the Inquisition was
set up by them in India.
In other lands the missionary record was singularly barren during the
decade. In Brazil the fathers still wandered in the forests, slowly
winning the confidence and allegiance of the natives by medical and
other humane services. Abyssinia was once more invaded, and some of the
fathers entered the Congo, but both missions were destroyed after a few
years. In Egypt an attempt was made to induce the Copts to recognise
the authority of the Pope. Rich presents were made to the Patriarch,
and the Papacy was flattered for a time by reports of success; but
the adventure ended in the painful and ignominious flight of the
missionaries from the country. The Japanese missions also were almost
destroyed in the course of the decade, and two ingenious attempts to
enter China proved unsuccessful. In 1556 Father Melchior Nuñez was
permitted to reach Canton, but his very diplomatic account of his
object did not convince the mandarins and he was politely expelled. In
1563 a further attempt was made. The mandarins were informed that an
embassy had arrived from Europe with valuable presents for the Emperor.
The cautious mandarins asked to see its credentials, and, when they
were told that these had been accidentally destroyed on the voyage,
they again amiably conducted their visitors to the frontier. There were
three Jesuits, in disguise, among the "envoys," and it is clear that
the whole expedition was a fraudulent attempt of the merchants and
missionaries from Goa to break the reserve of the Chinese.
Such were the fortunes of the Society of Jesus during the decade which
closed with the death of Lainez in 1565. The hundred establishments
which Ignatius had bequeathed to him in 1556 had now increased to a
hundred and fifty; the thousand subjects had become three thousand.
From Portugal to Poland the Jesuits were the most ardent soldiers in
the war against the advancing heretics, and there was hardly a Catholic
court in Europe that did not welcome the children of Ignatius and bow
in secret to their advice. Yet a keen observer like Lainez must have
perceived that this prosperity was less solid than it appeared, and his
last years were saddened by announcements of hostility and defeat. In
France and Belgium the gain was wholly disproportionate to the exacting
struggle they had maintained; in Portugal the material success and
political action were lowering the ideal of the Society; in Spain the
Catholic monarch, the Inquisition, and the higher clergy were hostile;
and England kept its doors sternly closed against the Jesuits. The
future was still uncertain, and another Caraffa might at any time
accede to the papal chair. With a last glance at the ex-Duke of Gandia,
as if to intimate that Borgia was the fittest to take up the burden
he laid down, the second General of the Society, able, energetic, and
high-minded to the last, sank wearily to his rest.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 3: _Relatio ad Reges_, by Alphonsus de Vargas (Caspar
Schoppe), 1636, p. 40.]