The Jesuits, 1534-1921 / A History of the Society of Jesus from Its Foundation to the Present Time

by Thomas J. Campbell

Under an affable and polished exterior Moñino was in reality very brutal. He simply terrorized the Pope, who put off receiving him for a week after his arrival and invented all sorts of excuses not to see him. When at last they met, the Pope was pale and excited but Moñino had resolved to end the siege. He dismissed absolutely all question of a reform of the Order. What he wanted was suppression, or else there would be a rupture with Spain. In vain the Pope entreated him to wait for Ricci's death; but the angry minister rejected the offer with scorn, and the Pope after being humiliated, insulted and outraged, withdrew to his apartments, exclaiming with sobs in his voice: "God forgive the Catholic King." "It was Moñino," said a diplomat then at Rome, "who got the Brief of 1773; but he did not obtain it; he tore it from the Pope's hand." Under instructions from Charles III, Moñino told the Pope, "I will disgrace you by publishing the letter you wrote to the king," and he laid before the Pontiff a plan drawn up by himself and the other ministers of Charles III to carry out the suppression. De Ravignan condemns Crétineau-Joly for having published this paper. "It would have been better to have left it in the secret archives."

In Moñino's plan of action he declares that "it was not advisable to enter into details; so as not to allow any ground for discussion, as it would do harm to religion and uselessly defame the character of the Jesuits." The king's reasons had already been made known to the Holy See. They were three in number. The first was "they had caused the Sombrero Riot in Madrid;" the second: "their moral and doctrinal teaching was bad;" the third, and this was the most extraordinary of all: "they had always persecuted the holiest bishops and persons in the Kingdom of Spain." The last item probably referred to Palafox. His Majesty had not yet revealed the important secret which he kept "locked in his royal heart." All the terrible statements of the documents alleged to have been seized by Marefoschi were to be of no use, when compared with the Riot of the Sombreros.

Meantime conditions were every day growing worse in Europe. The publications of Voltaire and his friends were destroying both religion and morality. The fulminations of the Pope against these books availed little, and meantime he was about to crush the men who were best able to face the enemy. Finally, poor Poland was being cut up by Prussia, Russia and Austria and the Pope was powerless to prevent it. On the other hand, there were some consolations. Thus in 1771 the Armenian patriarch and all his people renounced Nestorianism and returned to the unity of the Church. Between 1771 and 1772 seven thousand families and their ministers in the country of Sickelva abandoned Socinianism, and became Catholics. Again, wonderful conversions were made in Transylvania and Hungary, not only among Protestants but among the schismatical Greeks. Similar triumphs had been achieved in Armenia and Syria among the subjects of the Grand Turk, and the whole peninsula of Italy under the eyes of the Pope was in a transport of religious zeal. The peculiarly interesting feature about all this was that it was the work of the members of the Society of Jesus. But that did not check the progress of the anti-Christian plot of the Catholic kings of Europe to obliterate from the face of the earth the organization which even in its crippled condition and in the very last moments of its existence was capable of such achievements. Cardinal Migazzi, the Archbishop of Vienna, called the Pope's attention to this fact, but without avail.

Up to this time, Maria Theresa had been the devoted friend of the Society. She had even said she would never cease to be so, but yielding to the influence of her son, Joseph II, and of her daughter, the Queen of Naples, she consented to their suppression, on condition that she could dispose arbitrarily of their property (Clément XIII et Clément XIV, I, 362.) The illustrious queen displayed great worldly prudence in withdrawing her affections. This desertion destroyed the last hope that the Pope had cherished of putting off the Suppression. Moñino returned to the attack again and received an assurance from Clement that the document of suppression would be ready in eight days, and copies would be sent to the Kings of Spain, France and Naples. Meantime, as a guarantee, he began the work in his own States. Under all sorts of pretexts, individuals and college corporations were haled to court; and official visits were made of the various establishments. On March 10, 1773, Malvezzi, the Archbishop of Bologna, applied to the Pope for "permission to dissolve the novitiate, if it would seem proper to do so. If you think well of it, I shall carry that measure into effect, as soon as I arrive. I also judge it advisable to shut up St. Lucia, by dismissing the Jesuit theologians and philosophers. In doing so, Your Holiness will be dispensed from the trouble of investigating and will thus avoid the publicity of any notable offence which an examination might reveal."

There were two difficulties in the way, however. The people objected to the expulsion, and the Jesuits refused to be released from their vows. The latter obstacle was thought to be overcome by tearing off the cassocks of the young men and sending them adrift as laymen, and when the rector, Father Belgrado, who besides being a theologian was one of the foremost physicists and mathematicians of the day, and had been the confessor of the Duke and Duchess of Parma, informed the archbishop that dispensation from substantial vows must come from the Pope and from no one else, that did not stop Malvezzi. He had the rector arrested and exiled; and with the help of a band of soldiers expelled the scholastics from the house. He then wrote to the Pope regretting that he had not proceeded more rapidly. Besides this, Frascati was taken from the Jesuits and given to the Cardinal of York, who asked for it, though his royal pension had made him already immensely wealthy. Similar visitations were made in Ferrara and Montalto, and the looting became general.

In Poland, as we learn from "Les Jésuites de la Russie blanche," the spoliation had started even before the promulgation of the edict. Libraries were broken up and the books were often used to kindle bonfires; the silver of the churches was melted down and sold, and medals and chains from statues were seen on the necks of abandoned women. Even the cattle on the farms were seized. The Jews were especially conspicuous in these depredations.

All this was the prelude of the fatal Brief, which was signed on July 21, 1773, but was not promulgated until August 16 of that year. Theiner is the only author who gives August 17 as the date. As a matter of fact it was held up by Austria so as to gain time to prevent the secular clergy from seizing the property. The preparation of the Brief was conducted with the profoundest secrecy. Even on July 28, the French Ambassador wrote to D'Aiguillon: "the Pope is doing nothing in the Jesuit matter." He was unaware that not only was the Brief already signed but that a Congregatio de rebus extinctæ Societatis (a Committee on the affairs of the Extinct Society) had been appointed, and that its members had been bound under pain of excommunication not to reveal the fact to any one. However, Bernis found it out on the 11th, and complained that he had not been consulted. He wrote as follows: "Last Friday, the Pope summoned Cardinals Marefoschi, Casali, Zelada, Corsini and Caraffa, and after having made them take an oath, he put a Brief in their hands, which constituted them members of a congregation which was to meet every Monday and Thursday to discuss whatever concerned the Jesuit establishments, their benefices, colleges, seminaries, foundations, and such matters. It held its first meeting last Monday. Macedonio, the Pope's nephew, was the secretary; Alfani, a prelate, was the assessor; and Fathers Mamachi, a Dominican, and de Casal, a Recollect, were consulting theologians. The last two mentioned are men of repute."

"The 16th day of August 1773, the day of sad memories," writes de Ravignan, "arrived. Towards nine at night, Macedonio went to the Gesù and officially notified the General of the Brief that suppressed the Society throughout the world. He was accompanied by soldiers and officers of the police to keep order, though no one dreamed of creating any trouble. At the same hour, also by command of the Pope, other distinguished prelates and ecclesiastics gave notice of the Brief to the various Jesuit rectors in Rome. They also were accompanied by soldiers and notaries. Seals were put on the archives, the accounts, the offices of the treasurers and the doors of the sacristies. The Jesuits were suspended from all ecclesiastical functions such as confessions and preaching, and they were forbidden, for the time being, to leave their houses. The Father General and his assistants were carried off to jail." "Such," said Schoell (xliv, 84), "was the end of one of the most remarkable institutions that perhaps ever existed. The Order of the Jesuits was divided into five nations, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, French and German, each one of which had a representative living with the General. In 1750 the organization comprised 39 provinces, had 84 professed houses, which were residences where the most experienced members worked unceasingly for the Order without being distracted by public instruction. There were 679 colleges, 61 novitiates, 176 seminaries, 335 residences, and 273 missions. There were 22,589 members of whom 11,293 were priests."

This official act of the Pope really added very little to the temporal injury already done to the Order in Spain, France and Portugal where they had already been robbed of everything. But to be regarded as reprobates by the Pope and branded as disturbers of the peace of the Church was a suffering with which all they had hitherto undergone bore no comparison. Nevertheless, they uttered no protest. They submitted absolutely and died without a murmur, and in this silence they were true to their lifelong training, for loyalty to the See of Peter had always been the distinctive mark of the Society of Jesus from the moment that Ignatius Loyola knelt at the feet of the Sovereign Pontiff, for his approval and blessing. When the blow fell, the Society was found to be faithful. If it had during its lifetime achieved something for the glory of God and the salvation of souls; if it had been constantly appealed to for the most dangerous missions and had accepted them with enthusiasm; if it had poured out its blood lavishly for the Faith; if it had given many glorious saints to the Church, now, in the last terrible crisis which preceded the French Revolution and perhaps precipitated it, when the ruler of the Militant Church judged that by sacrificing one of his legions he could hold back the foe, the Society of Jesus on being chosen did not hesitate; it obeyed, and it was cut to pieces. Not a word came from the heroic band to discuss the wisdom or the unwisdom of the act. Others protested but not they. Those who condemned Clement XIV were not Jesuits, though their enemies said they were. On the contrary, the Jesuits defended and eulogized him and some of them even maintained that in the terrible circumstances in which he found himself, he could not have done otherwise. The Suppression gave them the chance, which they did not miss, to prove to the world the solidity of virtue that reigned throughout the Order, and to show that their doctrine of "blind obedience" was not a matter of mere words, but an achievable and an achieved virtue. They would have stultified themselves had they halted when the supreme test was asked for, and so they died to uphold the judgment of the Vicar of Christ, and in similar circumstances would do it again. They had preached sermons in every part of the world, but never one like this. Nor was it a sublime act such as some individual saints might have performed. It was the act of the whole Society of Jesus.

Silent themselves, they did their best to persuade others to refrain from all criticism. One example will suffice. It was after the Pope's death when the ex-Jesuits at Fribourg held a funeral service in their collegiate Church of St. Nicholas. The whole city was present, and the preacher, Father Matzel, amid the sobs of the congregation uttered these words: "Friends! beloved Friends of our former Society! whoever and wherever you may be! If ever we have had the happiness to be of help and comfort to you by our labor in city or country; if ever we have contributed anything to the cause of Christianity in preaching the word of God or catechising or instructing youth, or laboring in hospitals or prisons, or writing edifying books now, on this occasion, although in our present distress we have many favors to ask of you, there is one we ask above all and we entreat and implore you to grant it. It is never to speak a word that would be harsh or bitter or disrespectful to the memory of Clement XIV, the Supreme Head of the Church of Christ."