The internal administration of Charles was not less signal than his foreign policy. It exhibits many novelties; of which some were highly beneficial, while others were odious to the people. So long as the efforts of his ministers were confined to the improvement of commerce and agriculture, to cleansing and lighting the streets, to the construction and repairs of the roads, to the reorganisation of the police, and to the amplification of the public revenues, they were cheered by the popular approbation; but when flapped hats and long cloaks—those screeners of assassination—were prohibited, a loud outcry was raised against the introduction of foreign customs. A monopoly for the supply of oil and bread to the people of Madrid bore on the lower orders much more sensibly than a change of costume, and called forth loud imprecations against the marquis Squillaci, the author of this impolitic innovation. On the evening of Palm Sunday (1766) the mob arose. They spread throughout the city, breaking the lamps, assassinating the soldiers, and forcing every man they saw to lower the brim of his hat. The following morning the king communicated with them; promised that the obnoxious minister should be replaced by a Spaniard; that the decree against flapped hats and cloaks should be repealed; that the price of oil, bread, soap, and bacon should be reduced, the monopoly destroyed, and the insurgents pardoned.
The following morning, however, hearing that the royal family and the ministers had fled to Aranjuez, they assembled in greater numbers than before. During forty-eight hours the city was a prey to this lawless mob. Charles wrote to the Council of Castile that the obnoxious minister was already exiled, and that, if the people would quietly disperse, his other promises should be executed with equal fidelity. The message, being proclaimed throughout the city, was received with shouts of applause; the rioters instantly surrendered their arms and drums, shook hands with the soldiers, and departed to their homes.
That this commotion was a political intrigue was no less the conviction of the king than of his ministers; and his suspicions fell on the Jesuits.[l]
EXPULSION OF THE JESUITS
[1759-1767 A.D.]
It is unnecessary to trace here the rise and progress of this celebrated order whose position in history has been such a peculiar one. It will be sufficient to observe that their spirit of intrigue, dangerous maxims, bond of union, and persevering ambition had long rendered them an object of fear and jealousy to many of the European governments; and there was scarcely a political intrigue, or public commotion, in which they were not actually implicated, or supposed to be engaged. Such, however, was their extensive influence, from the number and talents of their members, and the authority which they exercised over the public mind, by monopolising, in a great degree, the duties of education; such also was their influence in the cabinets of Catholic princes, as directors of their consciences, and such the wealth and power they had appropriated, that till the middle of the eighteenth century no statesman had been found bold enough to smite this spiritual colossus. The first blow was struck in the petty kingdom of Portugal, by the marquis of Pombal, the minister of a weak and superstitious monarch, whose court and household were filled by their members and adherents.
From a suspicion, well or ill founded, that they were implicated in the memorable attempt to assassinate the king, they were in a single day involved in one common disgrace, their property confiscated, their members transported as prisoners to the coast of Italy and set ashore in the states of the church. Their expulsion from Portugal (1759) dissipated the terror inspired by their name and power, and prepared the way for their expulsion from France, which took place in 1764, with circumstances of more humanity and moderation than in Portugal.
It now became the leading principle of the French minister to complete their downfall in other countries, and particularly to obtain their expulsion from Spain. For this purpose, Choiseul employed all the resources of intrigue to excite alarm at their character and principles, and implicate them in every offence which was likely to throw disgrace on their body. He did not scruple even to circulate forged letters, in the name of their general and chiefs, and to propagate reports of the most odious and criminal nature against the members themselves individually. These artifices and this anxiety will not appear superfluous, when it is considered that Spain was the country which gave rise to the institution, and fostered it with peculiar affection; that the king, a devout prince, had shown himself its friend and protector. The final cause which led to their expulsion was the success of the means employed to persuade the king that their intrigues had caused the recent tumult at Madrid, and that they were still forming new machinations against his own person and the royal family. Influenced by this opinion, Charles, from their zealous protector, became at once their implacable enemy, and hastened to follow the example of the French government (1767).
[1767-1783 A.D.]
He confided the execution to Count de Aranda, who had so ably suppressed the commotions at Madrid. The king himself wrote, and directed with his own hand, circular letters to the governors of each province, which they were to open at a particular hour and in a particular place. When the period arrived, the six colleges of the Jesuits at Madrid were surrounded at midnight with troops, headed by officers of the police, and admission being obtained, the bells were secured, and a sentinel placed at the door of each cell. The rector was commanded to assemble the community; and the different members being collected in the refectory, the royal decree of expulsion was formally read. Each member was then permitted to take his breviary, linen, chocolate, snuff, a few other conveniences, and his money, on specifying the amount in writing. They were distributed in different vehicles, each carriage under the escort of two dragoons, to prevent any communication, and were thus conveyed to the coast. So complete were the precautions, and so prompt and regular was the execution, that the inhabitants of the capital were ignorant of the event till the following morning, when the cavalcade was already on its journey.