It was a thunderbolt. Fierce protests were made in Spain, Naples, Parma and France. Choiseul, who, up to that time, had been suave in his malice, lost his temper completely and ordered the Ambassador Bernis not only to make a public demand for the suppression of the Society but to order the Pope to begin it inside of two months. "This Pope is trifling with us," he said; "and if he does not come to terms he can consider all relations with France at an end." He became grossly insulting and declared that "he had enough of this monkery;" he would upset the plans of the Fratacci; and annihilate his Roman finesse. "A monk was always a monk," he said, "and it was very hard for an Italian monk to be honest and frank in business matters." Choiseul's varnish of courtesy had been all rubbed off by the incident, and he wanted to know "who were going to win in the fight? the kings or the Jesuits? If I were ambassador at Rome," he wrote to Bernis, "I would be ashamed to see Father Ricci the antagonist of my master."
Bernis, Cardinal though he was, meekly replied: "Of course the kings must win, but only the Pope can make them win. However, he has to do it according to the prescriptions of canon law, and must save his own reputation as well as that of the clergy. Moreover, as he is a temporal sovereign, he has to consider the courts of Vienna, Turin and Poland, and all that takes time. Personally, he means to keep the promise already given to the three crowns to suppress the Society, and has shown his mind on that point by public acts against the Fathers. He will renew the promise explicitly and immediately, in a letter written in his own hand to the King of Spain. He is not feeble or false as you seem to think. Time will show that such is his purpose. But, first, the way to lose the battle with the Jesuit General is to begin now. The Pope cannot and will not do it without preparation. Secondly, France and Spain must agree on the time and manner of arriving at the extinction of the Jesuits. Thirdly, it would be wiser to restrict the suppression to the Papal States, and not attempt it in countries that are favorable to the Society. Fourthly, a good preliminary would be to forbid the reception of novices, as the Pope has already done in his own dominions. Marefoschi and I put that into his head. Fifthly, I also proposed the seizure of the archives, the appointment of a Vicar General, to whom Father Ricci will render an account of his administration."
Bernis' temporising, however, only exasperated the foes of the Society, especially Charles III. Nevertheless, he succeeded in inducing the Pope to write to Louis XV on September 30, and in this communication a promise was made to do all the king wanted. But that was not enough for Charles. To force the issue, he ordered all the Jesuit property in Spain to be put up at auction, and a copy of the decree was sent to the Pope. That was on November 8, and on November 13, a joint letter was sent by the three powers requesting Clement to publish a Brief motu proprio that is on his own initiative, as if they had had nothing to do with it, approving all that the Bourbon princes had done against the Society; and also to send to their majesties the plan he proposed to follow in carrying out its complete suppression. Clement humbly submitted to the outrage, and seven days later, Bernis was able to write to Choiseul: "His Holiness has renewed in the strongest manner the two promises he had made to the Bourbon kings with regard to the Brief approving the missionaries, and the plan to suppress the Jesuit Order. He has commissioned me to positively assure the ministers of the powers on that point."
Spain wanted even more than that; and on November 22d, Azpuru told the Pope that if he did not send a manuscript letter to the king promising the suppression, extreme measures would be resorted to, and the rupture of relations which had been begun in 1767 and which was so disastrous to the Church in Spain would be carried to its limit. He was not exaggerating, and the nuncio at Madrid wrote that the king was so set on his purpose, that they did not know what mad thing he might do to gain his point. The general impression was that Charles was on the verge of insanity.
To quiet him, the Pope wrote, on November 30, to say positively that he would carry out the will of the courts. "We have gathered all the documents," he said, "that are needed for writing the motu proprio agreed upon; so as to justify to the whole world, the wise conduct of your majesty in expelling the Jesuits, as troublesome and turbulent subjects. As we are carrying on our government, unaided, although crushed by the weight and multiplicity of questions that have to be settled, you will understand that it is not forgetfulness but merely the unavoidable delay required to bring this important matter to a successful issue." Indeed at that time Clement had secluded himself from everyone. He was in constant fear of being poisoned, and had his food prepared by a Cordelier lay-brother. "We beg Your Majesty," he continued, "to put your entire confidence in us, for we have fully resolved to act, and we are preparing to give to the public incontestable proofs of our sincerity. We shall submit to the wisdom and intelligence of Your Majesty a plan for the total extinction of this Society; and Your Majesty will receive it shortly. We shall not cease to give genuine proofs of our attachment and our veneration for Your Majesty to whom in the plenitude of our paternal affection we give our apostolic benediction" (De Ravignan, "Clément XIII et Clément XIV," I, 295).
Bernis gave himself the credit of having got the Pope to write this letter, and said that now: "His Holiness could not escape carrying out his promise. He will be forced to do it, in spite of his unwillingness, for he knows that the king is too intelligent not to publish the letter, and the Pope will be disgraced if he does not keep his word" (Saint-Priest, p. 131). Thus six months after his election, he was bound by a written and absolute promise to suppress the Society; though he was continually saying "questa supressione mi darà la morte" (this suppression will kill me). At this stage of the proceedings little Naples was becoming obstreperous. Tanucci had seized the Greek College and expelled the Jesuits. He then claimed the property of all religious communities, and when remonstrated with, he replied that "he was going to keep on thwarting every order that came from Rome, until the Society of Jesus was abolished." In 1770 the Pope cancelled the excommunication of the Duke of Parma to gratify the sovereigns, but the satisfaction that ensued did not last long. Cardinal Pacca, who was quasi-nuncio at Lisbon just then, notes the disorders prevalent in the country especially in the University of Coimbra, where the worst kind of teaching was permitted.
On July 3, 1770, Bernis wrote to Choiseul: "I heard that the Founder of the Passionists, Paul of the Cross, has warned the Pope to watch over his kitchen, and hence Brother Francisco who looks after the Pope's household has redoubled his vigilance. I do not know if it is on account of this warning, but in any case the Pope has gone to some mineral springs for treatment and is to be there for the next fortnight." Ten days afterwards, Choiseul replied: "I cannot imagine the Pope is so credulous or so cowardly as to be so easily frightened by reports about attempts on his life. The Society of Jesus has been looked upon as dangerous because of its doctrines, its Institute and its intrigues in the countries from which they have been expelled; but they have not been accused of being poisoners. It is only the base jealousy and fanatical hatred of some monks that could suspect such a thing. The General of the Passionists might have dispensed himself from giving such indiscreet advice to the Pope, which seems to have aggravated the illness of which he was already complaining." As this General of the Passionists was no other than the saintly Paul of the Cross, who has been since raised to the honors of the altar, one may form some idea of the infamous devices resorted to in all this business. Far from being unfriendly, Paul of the Cross writes: "I am extremely pained by the sufferings of the illustrious Company of Jesus. The very thought of all those innocent religious being persecuted, in so many ways, makes me weep and groan. The devil is triumphing; God's glory is diminished, and multitudes of souls are deprived of all spiritual help. I pray, night and day that, after the storm is passed, God who gives both life and death may resuscitate the Society with greater glory than before. Such have been always, and such still are, my feelings towards the Jesuits."
The fact is, however, that the Pope was really frightened. His cheerfulness had vanished, his health had failed, and his features wore an anxious and haunted look. He kept in seclusion, and, as has been said, would let no one prepare his meals but his fellow-friar, Brother Francisco, who remained with him till the end. He was evidently fighting for time; hoping, no doubt, that something might occur to absolve him from his promise. But his enemies were relentless. Charles III was more than fanatical in his insistency, and finally Clement appointed Marefoschi, an open enemy of the Jesuits, to prepare the Brief. The task was joyfully accepted, but the Pope discovered that it was not written in the usual pontifical style. That excuse, however, was regarded by his assailants, as a trick, and they complained of it bitterly. Then it was alleged that the Empress Maria Theresa, who was not averse to the Jesuits, had to be consulted. Indeed, she had given out that as long as she lived they had nothing to fear in her dominions, but she failed to keep her word. Subsequently, a promise was given not to allow Father Ricci to have a successor or to admit novices into the Order; then a general council was proposed to decide the question, but all was of no avail.
At this point, December 25, 1770, Choiseul fell from power, and the world began to breathe for a short spell, hoping that this might affect the situation, but d'Aiguillon, his successor, was just as bad. Moreover, Saint-Priest, in his "Chûte des Jésuites" (p. 127) uses the incident for a nasty insult. He attributes Choiseul's fall to the regard that Madame du Barry had for the Society. "Thank God!" exclaims de Ravignan, "the Society has never had such a protectress." She was admired by Voltaire, who hailed her as another Egeria, but no Jesuit ever sought her protection. Their only advocate at the court at that sad period was the saintly daughter of the king, who became a Carmelite nun to expiate her father's sins. The real cause of Choiseul's downfall was that Maupeou showed to Louis XV some of Choiseul's letters urging parliament "not to yield in the fight, for the king would sustain the Society with all his power." "It was not hard," says Foisset in "Le Président des Brosses" (p. 302), "for du Barry to persuade the king that those letters were meant to incite the parliament to rebellion against him." She hated Choiseul who, though willing to pay court to Pompadour, had no respect for the low and coarse du Barry.
At this point, the Pope offered another inducement to the King of Spain: the canonization of Palafox, whom Charles III worshipped, but that failed, though a little respite was gained by the help of the king's confessor; and certain discussions with regard to the restitution of the papal territories also contributed to delay the disaster. The year 1771 had now been reached, and to afford some satisfaction to the foe, the Pope established a commission or congregation of cardinals to examine the financial conditions of the Society. At its head was the fierce Marefoschi, who began by seizing the Roman Seminary. Thus matters dragged on till 1772. Up to that time very little progress had been made, and people were beginning to talk about the impossibility of abolishing the whole Order, or even a part of it without "proper juridical investigation." Even Bernis told his government that "there was too much heat in this Jesuit affair to permit the Pope to explain his real thoughts about the suppression;" but, though Aranda was out of office and Choiseul likewise, the implacable Charles III was determined to put an end to the delay and instead of Azpuru, he sent the fierce José Moñino, otherwise known as Florida Blanca to be his ambassador in Rome.