The characterization of Oliva, by Böhmer-Monod as "a sybarite leading an indolent life at the Gesù or in his beautiful villa at Albano," is nothing else than an outrage. Sybarites do not live till the age of eighty-one; nor are they summoned to fill the office of "Apostolic Preacher" by four successive Popes — Innocent X, Alexander VI, Clement IX, and Clement X; nor do they write huge folios of profound theology; nor do they act as advisers to popes, kings, and princes; nor could they govern fifteen or twenty thousand men scattered all over the world, all of whom looked up to them as saints. Such in fact was this really great man, and falsehood could scarcely go further, than to pillory him in history as a degraded voluptuary. As for his luxurious villa, it will suffice to say that the individual who conceived that idea of a Jesuit country-house, never saw one. It is never luxurious; but always shabby, bare and poor.
The whole available income of the English province at this period (1625-1743) may be found in Foley's "Records" (VII, pt. I, xviii), and is quoted in Guilday's "English Refugees" (I, 156). "The entire revenue in 1645 for colleges, residences, seminaries under their charge, as well as fourteen centres in England and Wales is recorded at something like £3915. This sum maintained 335 persons, which at the present rate of money would be at £34.10 per head. In 1679 after the Orange Rebellion this sum was reduced." What was true of the English province, may also in great measure be predicated of the rest, especially of the one in which the General resided.
Another curious instance of this systematic calumniation is found in the preface of a volume of poems of Urban VIII, edited in 1727 by a professor of Oxford, who was prompted to publish them, we are informed, "because the poems would be an excellent corrective of the obscenity and unbridled licentiousness of the day." But while thus extolling the Pope, this heretical admirer of His Holiness, goes on to say that the Pontiff was particularly beloved by Henry IV, and when that monarch was attacked by an assassin, "the Jesuits, the authors of the execrable deed, were expelled from the kingdom, and a great pillar was erected to perpetuate their infamy. Whereupon Urban, who was then Cardinal Barberini, was sent to France, and induced Henry to destroy the pillar, and recall the Jesuits without inflicting any punishment on them."
For a person of ordinary intelligence, the conclusion would be that Barberini recognized that the Society had been grossly calumniated; if not, he had a curious way of showing his affection for the King by bringing back his deadly enemies and destroying the pillar. The author of this effusion also fails to inform his readers that Pope Urban VIII was a pupil of the Jesuits; that during all his life he was particularly attached to the Order; that one of his first acts after ascending the pontifical throne was to raise Francis Borgia to the ranks of the beatified; that the Jesuit, Cardinal de Lugo, was his particular adviser, and that in the reform of the hymnody of the Breviary, he entrusted the work exclusively to the Jesuits. With regard to the expulsion of the Society from France, Henry IV had no hand in it whatever. That injustice is to be laid to the score of the parliament of Paris over which Henry had no control. Far from being an enemy he was the devoted and affectionate friend of the Society, as well he might be, for it was the influence of the Spanish Jesuit, Cardinal Toletus, that made it possible for him to ascend the throne of France.
Long before his election as General, Oliva had achieved considerable reputation as an orator; and, as his correspondence shows, he was held in the highest esteem by many of the sovereigns of Europe for his wisdom as a counsellor. Unfortunately, however, nearly all the trouble that occurred in his time originated in the courts of kings. Thus in France, Louis XIV made his confessor, Father François Annat, a member of his council on religious affairs, with the result that when the king fell out with the Pope, Annat's position became extremely uncomfortable; but it is to his credit that he effected a reconciliation between the king and the Pontiff. After Annat, François de Lachaise was entrusted with the distribution of the royal patronage, and, of course, stirred up enmity on all sides. In Portugal, Don Pedro insisted upon Father Fernandes being a member of the Cortes; but Oliva peremptorily ordered him to refuse the office. In Spain, the queen made Father Nithard, her confessor, regent of the kingdom, and, German though he was, grand inquisitor and councillor of state. When he resisted, she appealed to the Pope, and the poor man was obliged to accept both appointments. Of course he aroused the opposition of the politicians and resigned. The queen then sent him as ambassador to Rome, and on his arrival there, the Pope made him a cardinal. He wore the purple for eight years and died in 1681. The saintly Father Claude de la Colombiére, the spiritual director of the Blessed Margaret Mary, also enters into the category of "courtier Jesuits." He was sent to England as confessor of the young Duchess of York, Mary Beatrice of Este, and though he led a very austere and secluded life in the palace, he was accused of participation in the famous Titus Oates plot, about which all England went mad; and although there was absolutely no evidence against him, he was kept in jail for a month, and in 1678 was sent back to France.
It was Father Petre's association with James II of England that gave Oliva most trouble. He was not the confessor, but the friend of the king, who had taken him out of the prison to which Titus Oates had consigned him. James wanted to make him grand almoner, and when Oliva protested, Castlemain, the English ambassador at Rome, was ordered to ask the Pope to make him a bishop and a cardinal. When that was prevented an attempt was made to give him a seat in the privy councils. Crétineau-Joly not only questions Petre's sincerity in these various moves, but accused the English provincial of collusion. Pollen, however, who is a later and a better authority, insists that, if we cannot aquit Petre of all blame, it is chiefly because first-hand evidence is deficient. Petre made no effort to defend himself but the king completely exonerated him. The king's evidence, however, counted for nothing in England with his Protestant subjects. The feeling against Petre was intense and William of Orange fomented it for political reasons, and the most extravagant stories were accepted as true; such, for instance, as that the Jesuits were going to take possession of England, or that the heir-apparent was a supposititious infant. Finally, when James fled to France, Petre followed him and remained by his side till the end. "He was not a plotter," says Pollen, "but an easy-going English priest who was almost callous to public opinion." It is perfectly clear that he had nothing to do with the foolish policies of James. On the contrary, he had done everything in his power to thwart them. "Had I followed his advice," James admitted to Louis XIV, "I would have escaped disaster."
A romantic figure appears at this time in the person of John Casimir, who after many adventures ascended the throne of Poland. In spite of the remonstrances of his mother he not only refused to dispute the claim of his elder brother, but espoused his cause, fought loyally for his election and was the first to congratulate him when chosen. He then withdrew from Poland and we find him, first, as an officer in the imperial army, and at the head of a league against France. Afterwards, while in command of a fleet in the Mediterranean, he was driven ashore near Marseilles by a storm; he was recognized and kept in prison for two years, but was finally released at the request of his brother. In passing by Loreto, on his way home, the fancy of becoming a Jesuit seized him. He applied for admission and was received, but left three or four years afterwards, and, though not in orders, was made a cardinal. When the news of his brother's death arrived, he returned the red hat to the Pope and set out for Poland to claim the crown, and simultaneously that of Sweden. The latter pretence, of course, meant war with Gustavus Adolphus, who forthwith invaded Poland, but Casimir drove him out and also expelled the Prussians from Lithuania. Probably on account of the dissensions in his own country which gave him occupation enough, he ceased to urge his rights to the throne of Sweden, and after some futile struggles relinquished that of Poland likewise.
In the Convocation of Warsaw where he pronounced his abdication, he is said to have made the following utterance which sounds like a prophecy but which may have been merely a clever bit of political foresight. "Would to God," he exclaimed "that I were a false prophet, but I foresee great disasters for Poland. The Cossack and the Muscovite will unite with the people who speak their language and will seize the greater part of Lithuania. The frontiers of Greater Poland will be possessed by the House of Brandenburg; and Prussia, either by treaty or force of arms, will invade our territory. In the dismemberment of our country, Austria will not let slip the chance of laying hands on Cracow." John was the last representative of the House of Vasa. He was succeeded by Michael, who reigned only three years (1669-72) and then the great Sobieski was elected after he and his 20,000 Poles had routed an army of 100,000 Tatars — an exploit which made him the country's idol as well as its king.
In becoming General, Oliva inherited the suffering inflicted on the Society by the English persecutions which had been inaugurated by Elizabeth and continued by James I. A lull had occurred during the reign of Charles I, probably because the queen, Henrietta Maria, was a Catholic; and in 1634 there were as many as one hundred and sixty Jesuits in the British dominions; but Cromwell was true to his instincts, and, between the time of the Long Parliament and the Restoration of the Stuarts, twenty-four Catholics died for the Faith. Naturally, the Jesuits came in for their share. Thus Father James Latin was put in jail on August 3, 1643, and was never heard of afterwards. "From which," says O'Reilly, "it is easy to conjecture his fate." William Boyton was one of the victims in a general massacre that took place in 1647, in the Cashel Cathedral; and two years afterwards, John Bathe and Robert Netterville were put to death by the Cromwellians in Drogheda. Bathe was tied to a stake and shot, while Netterville, who was an invalid, was dragged from his bed, beaten with clubs and flung out on the highway. He died four days afterwards.
The Stuarts were restored in 1660, but the easy-going Charles II made no serious effort to erase the laws against Catholics from the statute-book, and from time to time proclamations were issued ordering all priests and Jesuits out of the realm. Two occasions especially furnished pretexts for these expulsions. One was the "Great Plague," and the other was the "Great Fire," for both of which the Jesuits were held responsible. No one knew what was going to happen next, when there appeared in England an individual to whom Crétineau-Joly devotes considerable space, but who receives scant notice from English writers. He announced himself as Hippolyte du Chatelet de Luzancy. He was the son of a French actress, and was under indictment for forgery in his native country; added to these attractions, founded or not, he claimed to be an ex-Jesuit. Of course, he was received with great enthusiasm by the prelates of the Established Church, for he let it be known he was quite willing to accept any religious creed they might present to him. The Government officials also welcomed him. His first exploit was to accuse Father Saint-Germain, the Duchess of York's confessor, of entering his apartment with a drawn dagger and threatening to kill him. Whereupon all England was startled and the House of Lords passed a bill consigning all priests and Jesuits to jail. Saint-Germain was the first victim. Luzancy was then called before the privy council and told a blood curdling story of a great conspiracy that was being hatched on the Continent. It implicated the king and the Duke of York. The story was false on the face of it, but Luzancy was taken under the protection of the Bishop of London; he was given the degree of Master of Arts by Oxford and was installed as the Vicar of Dover Court, Essex. A most unexpected defender of the Society appeared at this juncture in the person of Antoine Arnauld, the fiercest foe of the Jesuits in France. He denounced Luzancy as an imposter, and berated the whole English people for accepting the conspiracy myth. His indignation, however, was not prompted by any love of the Society, but because Luzancy claimed to have lived for a considerable time with the Jansenists and with Arnauld, in particular, at Port-Royal.