Among "the simpletons" who denounced the act was the Bishop of Cuenca, Isidore de Carvajal, who told the king to his face, what he thought of the whole business. The Archbishop of Tarragona did the same, but they both incurred the royal displeasure. The Bishop of Terruel published a pamphlet "The Truth unveiled to the King our Master" and he was immediately confined in a Franciscan convent, while his Vicar-general and chancellor were thrown into jail. The Archbishop of Toledo, Cardinal de Córdova, wrote to the Pope and the contents of his letters were known in Spain, for Roda, the individual above referred to, hastened to tell the Spanish ambassador on May 12, 1767: "In spite of all their tricks, the Archbishop of Toledo and his vicar-general have written a thousand stupid things to the Pope about this affair. We would not be a bit surprised if the Bishop of Cuenca, Coria, Cuidad Rodrigo, Terruel and some others have done the same thing, but we are not sure." A year and a half after the blow was struck something happened which again threw the timid Charles into a panic about his royal life. According to custom, he presented himself on November 4, 1768, on the balcony of his palace to receive the homage of his people, and to grant them some public favor out of his munificence. To the stupefaction of both king and court, one universal cry arose from the vast multitude. "Send us back the Jesuits!" Charles withdrew in alarm and immediately investigations began with the result that he drove out of the kingdom the Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo and his vicar on the charge that they had prompted the demand of the people (Coxe, "Spain under the Bourbons," v, 25).
With regard to the supposed letter of Father Ricci which brought on this disaster, it may be of use to refer here to what was told thirty years after these events, in a work called "Du rétablissement des Jésuites et de l' éducation publique" (Emmerick, Lambert, Rouen). The author says: "It is proper to add an interesting item to the story of the means employed to destroy the Society of Jesus in the mind of Charles III. Besides the pretended letter of Father Ricci, there were other supposititious documents, and among these lying papers was a letter in the handwriting of an Italian Jesuit which had been perfectly imitated. It contained outrageous denunciations of the Spanish government. When Clement XIII insisted on having some proof to throw light on the allegations, this letter was sent to him. Among those who were commissioned to examine it, was a simple prelate, who afterwards became Pius VI. Glancing at the missive he remarked that the paper was of Spanish manufacture, and he wondered why an Italian should send to Spain for writing material. Looking at it closer and holding it up to the light he saw that the water-mark gave not only the name of a Spanish paper-factory, but also the date on which it was turned out. Now it happened that this date was two years after the letter was supposed to have been written. The imposture was manifest, but the blow had already been struck. Charles III was living at the time, yet he was not man enough to acknowledge and repair the wrong he had done." (Crétineau-Joly, v, 241).
On the day appointed by the king, April 2, 1767, every ship selected to carry out the edict was in the harbor assigned to it, in every part of the Spanish world, where there happened to be a Jesuit establishment. The night before at sundown the captain had opened the letter which had the threat on its envelope: "Your life is forfeited if you anticipate the day or the hour." He obeyed his instructions; and early in the morning the Fathers in the college of Salamanca, Saragossa, Madrid, Barcelona and all the great cities, as well as in every town where the Jesuits had any kind of an establishment, heard the tramp of armed men entering the halls. The members of the household were ejected from their rooms, seals were put on the doors, and the community marched down like convicts going to jail. Old men and young, the sick and even the dying, all had to go to the nearest point of embarcation. Not a syllable were they allowed to utter as they tramped along, and no one could speak in their defence without being guilty of high treason. When they reached the ships, they were herded on board like cattle and despatched to Civita Vecchia, to be flung on the shores of the States of the Pope, whose permission had not even been asked; nor had any notice been given him. It was a magnificent stroke of organized work, and incidentally very profitable to the government, for at one and the same moment it came into possession of 158 Jesuit houses, all of considerable value as real estate and some of them magnificent in their equipment. How much was added to the Spanish treasury on that eventful morning, we have no means of computing.
There was one difficulty in the proceedings, however. The supply of ships was insufficient, for 2,643 men had to be simultaneously cared for; but their comfort did not interfere with the progress of the movement. "They were piled on top of each other on the decks or in the fetid holds," says Sismondi, "as if they were criminals." It was worse than the African slave-trade. Saint-Priest thinks "it was a trifle barbarous, but the precipitation was unavoidable." It was indeed a trifle barbarous and the precipitation was not unavoidable.
In rounding up the victims, the king and the ministers were naturally anxious about the effect it might have upon many of the best Spanish families who had sons in the Order; notably the two Pignatellis, who were of princely lineage. Inducements were held out to both of them to abandon the Society, but the offer was spurned with contempt. Indeed very few even of the novices failed in this sore trial. As for the Pignatellis they were the angels of this exodus, particularly Joseph, whose exalted virtue is now being considered in Rome in view of his beatification. He was at Saragossa when the royal order arrived, and though suffering with hemorrhages, he started out afoot on the weary journey to Tarragona, and from there to Salu, nine miles further on, where nineteen brigantines were assembled to receive this first batch of 600 outcasts. He was so feeble that he had to be carried on board the ship.
From there, they set sail for Civita Vecchia, where they arrived on May 7, but were not allowed to land. Even the generally fair Schoell describes the Pope's action in this instance as "characterized by the greatest inhumanity." On the contrary, it would have been an act of the greatest inhumanity to receive them. There were some thousands of Portuguese Jesuits there already, who had been flung on the shore unannounced, and in that impoverished region there was no means of providing them with food or medicine or even clothes and beds. To have admitted this new detachment of 600 who were merely the forerunners of 4,500 more, and who, in turn were to be followed by all the Jesuits whom Tanucci would drive out of the Neapolitan Kingdom, and those whom Choiseul would hasten to gather up in France, the result would have been that ten or fifteen thousand Jesuits without money or food or clothing, some of them old and decrepit and ill, would have to be cared for and the native population in consequence would be subjected to a burden that would have been impossible to bear. It was "inhuman" no doubt, but the inhumanity must be ascribed to Charles III who had plundered these victims, and not to Clement XIII who would have died for them. His first duty was to his own people and his next was to proclaim to the world and to all posterity, the grossness of the insult as well as the injustice inflicted on the Vicar of Christ by the Most Catholic King, Charles III. Nor were the "unhappy wretches," as Böhmer-Monod call them, "received by cannon shot, at the demand of their own General, who had trouble enough with the Portuguese already on his hands;" (p. 274) nor did the Jesuits, as Saint-Priest adds: "vent their rage against Ricci and blame his harsh administration, as the cause of all their woes." Ricci was begging for bread to feed his Portuguese sons at that time, and he certainly would not have received those from Spain with a cannon shot; nor would the Jesuits have vented their rage against him and blamed his harsh administration, especially as his administration was the very reverse of harsh; and, finally, Jesuits were not accustomed to vent their rage against their superior.
Sismondi (Hist. des Français, xxix, 372) says that "many of them perished on board ship, and Schoell describes them as lying on top of one another on deck for weeks, under the scorching rays of the sun or down in the fetid hold." The filthy ships finally turned their prows towards Corsica where arrangements had been made for them to discharge their human cargo. It took four days to reach that island, but Paoli was just then fighting for the independence of his country, and French ships which were aiding Genoa occupied the principal ports. At first the exiles remained in their ships, but, later, they were allowed to go ashore during the day. Meantime, a vessel had been despatched to Spain for instructions and when it returned on July 8, the "criminals" were ordered to go to Ajaccio, Algoila or Calvi. They reached Ajaccio on July 24, and as they were then in a state of semi-starvation, Father Pignatelli went straight to the insurgent camp, though at every step he risked being shot or seized and hanged, but he did not care, he would appeal to Paoli's humanity. He was well received, help was sent to the sufferers, and they were given liberty to go where they chose on the island.
They remained there a month and were then sent to the town of Saint-Boniface, where they bivouacked or lived in sheds until the 8th of December, when they were ordered to Genoa. This time the number of brigantines in which they embarked had been reduced from thirteen to five, though the number of the victims had considerably increased; but that mattered little; they finally reached the mainland but were not permitted to go ashore. Meantime, other Jesuits had arrived and they now numbered 2,000 or 2,400. After a short delay in the harbor, they made their way separately or in groups to different cities in the Papal States, chiefly to Bologna and Ferrara.
Their ejection from the Two Sicilies was a foregone conclusion, for it was ruled by the terrible Bernardo Tanucci, whom Charles III on his accession to the throne of Spain had left as regent during the minority of Ferdinand IV. Tanucci was a lawyer who began his career in a most illegal fashion by exciting riots in Pisa against his rival Grandi. They had quarrelled about the discovery of the Pandects of Justinian. He next drew the attention of Charles by assailing the right of asylum for criminals, which he maintained was in contravention of all law human and divine. "He attacked the prerogatives of the Court of Rome and of the nobles of Naples, with more fury than prudence," says de Angelis (Biographie universelle). Subsequently he showed himself the enemy of the Church in every possible way, and, meantime, so neglected to provide for the security of the State that during the war of the Pragmatic Sanction, King Charles had to sign an act of neutrality at the mouth of the cannons of a British man-of-war. His political incapacity continued to injure the country during the reign of Ferdinand until it was no longer reckoned among the military powers of Europe. Meantime, he kept the young king in ignorance of everything so as to maintain himself in power. He robbed the courts of justice of their power; drew up the Caroline Code which was never published; ruined the finances of the country, as well as its industry and agriculture, and allowed men of the greatest ability and learning to die in penury. In brief, says his biographer, "Tanucci's reputation both before and after his death is a mystery. It is probably due to his prominence as a bitter enemy of the Holy See. He seized Beneventum and Pontecorvo which belonged to the Patrimony of Peter; he suppressed a great number of convents, distributed abbeys to his followers, fomented dissensions against the bishops and, of course, persecuted the Jesuits."
When Charles III of Spain expelled the Society from Spain everyone knew what was going to happen in Sicily, and news was eagerly expected from the peninsula. While they were waiting, an eruption of Vesuvius took place, which the excitable Italians regarded as a sign of God's wrath. Penitential pilgrimages were organized to avert the danger and angry murmurs were heard against the government. To quell the tumult, Tanucci sent out word that the Jesuits would be undisturbed, though ships were at that time on their way to carry off the victims. The young king's signature to the decree had, however, to be procured, but he angrily refused to give it until the official confessor, Latelle, the retired Bishop of Avellino entreated him to yield, saying that he himself would answer for it on the Day of Judgment. The prelate did not know that he himself was to die at the end of the month. The expulsion took place in the usual dramatic fashion. At midnight of November 3, 1767, squads of soldiers descended on every Jesuit establishment in the land. The doors were smashed in; the furniture shattered; all the papers seized, both official and personal, and then surrounded by platoons of soldiers, the Fathers were led like criminals through the streets to the nearest beach with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The whole affair was managed with such lightning-like rapidity, that though the prisoners had been taken from their houses at midnight, they were out at sea before dawn and were heading for Ferrara.
At Parma another Spanish prince ruled. He was still a child, however, but his minister was du Fillot, a statesman of the school of Tanucci and Choiseul. The expulsion took place simultaneously on the night of February 7, 1768 at Piacenza, Parma, San Domino and Busseto. In the first city, all the available vehicles of the place had been requisitioned. At seven o'clock at night a dozen soldiers entered the house. Later, an officer, two adjutants and a magistrate appeared, read the decree, the fourth article of which declared that any one not a priest or professor who would take off the habit of the society would be received among the faithful subjects of his royal highness. The fifth announced that the innate clemency of his highness accorded an annual pension of sixty scudi to the professed and forty to the brothers who were his subjects. The scholastics were to get nothing. In a quarter of an hour they were hurried to the citadel where carriages and carts were waiting and were driven all night at top speed to Parma, where they arrived at day break. Passing through the city they caught up with those who had been expelled from the other places. Half an hour's rest and a bite to eat were allowed and then the journey was continued on to Reggio and Bologna. Not to be outdone in zeal for the king, the Knights of Malta drove them from the island on April 22, 1768. The expulsion at Parma was disastrous not only to the Jesuits but to the Pope. Parma was his fief, and he protested against the action of the duke. It was precisely what the plotters were waiting for. France immediately seized the Comtat Venaissin, and Naples took possession of Beneventum, both of which belonged to the Patrimony of St. Peter. Of course, the Jesuits were immediately expelled and their property confiscated.
The expulsion in Spanish America meant the seizure of at least 158 establishments belonging to the Jesuits in Mexico, New Granada, Ecuador, Peru and Chili. It involved the flinging out into the world of 2,943 Jesuits, some of them old and infirm and absolutely unable to earn their living. Of those who embarked at Valparaiso sixty were drowned in the wreck of the ship "Our Lady of the Hermitage." Carayon gives some interesting diaries of the journeys of these exiles (Doc. inédits, xvi), while Hubert Bancroft in his monumental work of thirty-nine volumes about the Pacific Coast furnishes abundant and valuable information about the exodus from the missions of Mexico. The victims underwent the same sufferings as their Portuguese brethren in the long journeys over mountains and through the primeval forests and in the long, horrible crossing of the ocean to their native land, which they were thought unworthy to enter.
CHAPTER XVII
THE FINAL BLOW
Ganganelli – Political plotting at the Election – Bernis, Aranda Aubeterre – The Zelanti – Election of Clement XIV – Renewal of Jesuit Privileges by the new Pope – Demand of the Bourbons for a universal Suppression – The Three Years Struggle – Fanaticism of Charles III – Menaces of Schism – Moñino – Maria Theresa – Spoliations in Italy – Signing the Brief – Imprisonment of Father Ricci and the Assistants – Silence and Submission of the Jesuits to the Pope's Decree.
As early as 1768, the Bourbon courts let it be known that they would make a formal demand for the suppression of the Society throughout Christendom. On January 14 of that year, Cardinal Torregiani wrote to the papal nuncio at Madrid as follows: "His Holiness is horrified at the attitude of the king, and indignant that the demand should be accompanied by threats to force his hand, so as to wring from him a concession which is in violation of divine, natural and ecclesiastical law. If any mention of it is made to you again, dismiss immediately the person who dares to suggest it." That stinging rebuke, however, did not halt the stubborn Charles, and in the January of 1769 the coalition began its attack. First came the Spanish representative who presented himself for an audience on the eighteenth. The Pope received him with dignified reserve; gave expression to the intense pain caused by the request, and then, bursting into tears, withdrew. On the twentieth and twenty-second respectively, Orsini, representing Naples, made his appearance and after him Aubeterre, on behalf of France. They were both abruptly dismissed. The French document was especially insulting. It advised the Pope to admit the demand on the ground that it was based on a sincere and well-informed zeal for the progress of religion, the interest of the Roman Church, and the peace of Christendom. The use of the expression "Roman" Church was an evident hint at schism.
On January 25, a formal reply was sent to the three courts, informing them that "the Pope could not explain the deplorable audacity they had displayed in adding to the sorrows that already overwhelmed the Church, a new anguish the only purpose of which was to torture the conscience and distress the soul of His Holiness. An impartial posterity would judge if such acts could be regarded as a new proof of that filial love which these sovereigns boast of having for His Holiness personally, and an assurance of that attachment which they pretend to show for the Holy See." On January 28, Cardinal Negroni told the ambassadors: "You are digging the grave of the Holy Father." The prophecy was almost immediately fulfilled, for on February 2 Clement XIII died of a stroke of apoplexy. He had officiated at the ceremonies of that day, and had shown no sign of illness. The blow was a sudden one, and there is no doubt that this joint act of the Bourbon kings had caused his death. De Ravignan does not hesitate to describe him as a martyr who died in defence of the rights of the Church. He is blamed by some for "his lack of foresight in not yielding to the exigencies of the times." But there were other "exigencies of the times" besides those formulated by the men "who knew not the secrets of God, nor hoped for the wages of justice, nor esteemed the honor of holy souls," and the Pope's foresight was not limited by the horizons of Pombal, Choiseul and Charles III. "His pontificate," as has been well said, "affords the spectacle of a saint clad in moral strength, contending alone against the powers of the world. Such a spectacle is an acquisition forever." For it should not be forgotten that those arrayed against him in this fight were not aiming merely at the annihilation of the Society of Jesus. That was only a secondary consideration. Their purpose was to destroy the Church, and in its defence Pope Clement XIII died.
A new Pope was now to be elected and the alarming influence wielded by the statesmen of Europe in ecclesiastical affairs now assumed proportions which seemed to menace the destruction of the Church itself. In his "Clément XIII et Clément XIV" (p. 552) de Ravignan gives an extract from Theiner which is startling. In 1769, that is before the election, we find all the cardinals tabulated as "good;" "bad;" "indifferent;" "doubtful;" "worst;" "null." Their ages are given; their characters, their political tendencies. Among those marked "good" is Ganganelli; Rezzonico, the nephew of Clement XIII is in the category of the "worst;" the Cardinal of York is "null." There are eleven who are labelled "papabili," ten to be excluded and fourteen to be avoided. It is even settled who is to be secretary of State. Weekly instructions in this matter were sent from the court of Spain to its agents at Rome, whose motto was: "nec turpe est quod dominus jubet – nothing is base if the king orders it." They were at that time precisely the kind of men that the implacable Charles III needed to sustain him in his iniquitous measure: unprincipled clerics like Sales, or savages like Moniño, or Aspuru, who could write: "What matter that the charges are not proved? The accused has been condemned. We have not to establish his guilt." As for the flippant Bernis and the infidel Aubeterre, they were good enough for the royal debauchee, Louis XV. Aubeterre had been a soldier, was now a diplomat and had lost his faith by contact with the revolting indecencies of the regency, while Bernis, says Carayon, was "a distinguished type of French vanity who talked much, schemed continually and fancied he controlled the conclave though he was only a fly on the wheel. He was not ashamed to admit that he owed his red hat to la Pompadour."
Bernis' correspondence with his government is valuable not only in showing how unscrupulous were the methods of coercion employed but in revealing the ultimate purpose of the conspirators, viz. the establishment of state churches in their several kingdoms. He and de Luynes were instructed to insist that the new Pope should: first, annul the Brief of Clement XIII against Parma; secondly, recognize the independent sovereignty of the Prince; thirdly, relinquish Avignon and the Comtat Venaissin to France, and Beneventum to Sicily; fourthly, exile Cardinal Torregiani, the prime minister of Clement XIII; fifthly, completely abolish the Society of Jesus; secularize its members, and expel Father Ricci, the General, from Rome. They let it be known that there would be no backing down on these five points.
It was chiefly to secure the suppression of the Society that the fight was to be made. The other matters could be left, if necessary, for future adjustment. If every other means failed, intimidation was to be resorted to. Indeed, as a preparation, veiled threats began to be heard from several quarters. Thus, for instance, Louis XV put his name to the following insulting letter: "My sincere and constant wish is," he said, "that the Barque of Peter should be entrusted to a pilot who is enlightened enough to appreciate the necessity of having the Head of the Church remain in the most perfect harmony with all the sovereigns of the Roman Faith; and of being wise enough to avoid every inconsiderate measure prompted by indiscreet and extravagant zeal; in brief, one who will shape his policy by the rules of moderation, prudence and sweetness in keeping with divine wisdom and human politics." Such language from the "Most Christian King" was an outrage on the memory of Clement XIII; and the words "Roman Faith" contained, as on a previous occasion, a threat of schism. Schoell, the Protestant historian, says that "the formation of State Churches in the three kingdoms was clearly the avowed purpose of these plotters."
The "Zelanti" were in the majority, but that difficulty was soon disposed of by the veto power which had been granted to the Catholic sovereigns. Making full use of it, they shamelessly forbade the consideration of any candidate who was suspected of being unfriendly to them, with the result that the number of eligible candidates was speedily reduced to eleven; and as most of these latter were old or infirm they could not be even considered by the electors. At this point, Bernis protested against being excessive in the eliminations. Finally there were only two cardinals who could be considered papabili: Ganganelli and Stoppani.
On March 7, 1769, instructions arrived from Madrid emphatically insisting that the election of no Pope would be recognized who would not first bind himself to grant the five points insisted upon by the Bourbon kings, but when the two Spanish cardinals at Rome represented to Charles III that such a proposal to the electors would involve serious risks, the obstinate king insisted, nevertheless, that he would yield on three of the points, but that he would have to exact absolutely as a condition of election that the new Pope would promise to cancel the previous Pontiff's action with regard to the Duke of Parma, and also suppress the whole Society of Jesus. He wanted the conclave to pass a decree to that effect. Even in the Parma affair, he was willing to relent, because as Clement XIII was dead, his ruling might be considered as having lapsed, but as for the Society of Jesus, nothing would satisfy him except its absolute extinction. That much was due, he said, to the three powerful monarchs on whom the Church depended for support. On the other hand, as it would not be proper to compromise the reputation of these kings by letting it be known that such a deal was being made, for it might happen to fail; it was thought better not to give any precise orders, but to leave to the discretion of those who were on the spot to determine what means should be employed for bringing about the desired results.
The project of getting a distinct decree from the conclave in the sense of the King of Spain was abandoned, but while the political cardinals would not hear of exacting a written promise, the ambassadors who were working on the outside, openly avowed that they had no scruples about it. Indeed, Aubeterre, the French ambassador, wrote to Choiseul in France complaining that he and his fellow-diplomats felt hurt that their proposal should be rejected for moral reasons, especially as they had secretly consulted an excellent canonist, who ruled that there would be no harm in imposing on the new Pontiff the obligation of fulfilling the contract inside of a year, dating from the day of his election. Not only was it permissible, he said, but, in the circumstances, it was imperatively urgent for the good of the Church. "The excellent canonist" here referred to was Azpuru, the Spanish ambassador, but as Cardinals Orsini, Bernis and de Luynes insisted that such a contract would be simoniacal, they were informed that if an unacceptable Pope was elected there would be an immediate rupture of relations with the Holy See and the representatives of the three Powers would withdraw from Rome. They were further told that it was hoped that the fanatics, or Zelanti, would not drive them to such an extremity. D'Aubeterre who voiced the opinion of his associates went so far as to say, that any election which had not been arranged beforehand with the court would not be recognized.
Finally, after the conclave had been in session from February 13 to May 19, Cardinal Ganganelli was elected Pope and took the name of Clement XIV. He was considered "acceptable," especially by Spain. According to Cordara, however, his elevation to the pontifical throne was not due to the influence or the manipulations of the Spanish cardinals but was brought about as follows: – "From the beginning of the conclave two or three votes were deposited in his favor, but he was never seriously thought of as Pope. Indeed, Cardinal Castelli, whose learning and piety gave him great influence in the Sacred College, was strongly opposed to him. Suddenly, however, he changed his opinion and declared that, having considered the matter more thoroughly, he was convinced that in the actual circumstances, no one was better fitted for the post than Ganganelli. From that moment, those who had been opposed to him regarded him favorably. Even Rezzonico, the nephew of Clement XIII, who had many reasons to vote against him said he would take the opinion of the majority of the cardinals. Hence the only one against him was Orsini who said that "the Franciscan was a Jesuit in disguise." He was, therefore, after the fight had raged for 100 days, elected by forty-six out of forty-seven votes. The forty-seventh was his own, which he cast in favor of Rezzonico. It is not true that he had made a promise to suppress the Society in case of election. Azpuru, the Spanish agent, wrote on May 8: "No one has gone so far as to propose to anyone to give a written or verbal promise"; and after May 13, he added: "Ganganelli neither made a promise nor refused it." Unfortunately some of his written words were interpreted as implying it.
Ganganelli was born in the town of Sant' Arcangelo, near Rimini, on October 31, 1705, and was baptised Giovanni Vincenzo Antonio, but took the name of Lorenzo when he became a Conventual of St. Francis. His life as a friar was characterized by piety and intense application to study. He was noted for his admiration of everything pertaining to the Society of Jesus, and, indeed, Pope Clement XIII when making him a cardinal said, "there is now a Jesuit in the Sacred College in the habit of a Franciscan." But "the purple seemed to change him," says Cordara, "and from that out he was more reserved in his manifestations of friendship." As Pope he was as simple in his way of life as when living with his community; he was gentle, affable, kind, rarely ruffled, never precipitate and never carried away by inconsiderate zeal. He would have made an admirable Pope in better times. But when he was given control of the Barque of Peter a wild storm was sweeping over the world. Venice, Parma, Naples, France, Spain and Portugal were arrayed against him – some of them threatening separation from the Church. Austria, the only Catholic government that remained, observed neutrality at first, but finally went to the wrong side. In brief, a fierce and united anti-religious element dominated all Catholic Europe, and the rest was Protestant.