Macedo's departure from Stockholm was so sudden that it excited comment, and possibly to persuade the public she had nothing to do with it, the queen pretended to despatch messengers in pursuit of him. In fact, she had requested the General of the Society to send some of the most trusted members of the Order to Sweden. It may be that the old African missionary, Macedo, was not skillful enough in elucidating some of the metaphysical problems which she was discussing. "In February, 1652," says Ranke, "the Jesuits who had been asked for arrived in Stockholm. They were two young men who represented themselves to be Italian noblemen engaged in travel, and in this character they were admitted to her table." They were Fathers Cavati and Molenia, who were able mathematicians as well as theologians. Descartes also was there about that time. The queen did not recognize the young noblemen in public, but, says Ranke: "as they were walking before her to the dining-hall, she said, in a low voice to one of them: 'Perhaps you have letters for me.' Without turning his head he replied that he had. Then, with a quick word, she bade him keep silence. On the following morning they were conducted secretly to the palace. Thus," continues Ranke, "to the royal dwelling of Gustavus Adolphus there now came ambassadors from Rome for the purpose of holding conferences with his daughter about joining the Catholic Church. The charm of this affair for Christina was principally the conviction that no one had the slightest suspicion about her proceedings."
The conferences seem to have been long drawn out, although the envoys subsequently reported that "Her Majesty apprehended with most ready penetration the whole force of the arguments we laid before her. Otherwise we should have consumed much time. Suddenly she appeared to abandon every desire to carry out her purpose, and attributed her doubts to the assaults of Satan. Her spiritual advisers were in despair, when just as suddenly she exclaimed: 'There is no use. I must resign my crown.'" The abdication was made with great solemnity amid the tears and protests of her subjects. She left her country and spent the rest of her life in Rome, where her unusual intellectual abilities and great learning excited the wonder of everyone. Her heroism in sacrificing her kingdom was, of course, the chief subject of the praise that was showered upon her.
When Vieira arrived in Rome and fascinated everyone by his extraordinary eloquence, Christina wanted him to be her spiritual director. But the old hero preferred ruder work, and by 1681 he was again back in Brazil among his Indians. Even in his old age he was a storm centre, and although he had done so much for the glory of God and the good of humanity, he was deprived of both active and passive voice in the Society, that is to say, he could neither vote for any measures of administration or be eligible to any office, because he was supposed to have canvassed a provincial congregation. It was only after he had expired, at the age of ninety, that his innocence was established. His knowledge of scripture, theology, history, and literature was stupendous, and he is said to have been familiar with the language of six of the native races. Southey, in his "History of Brazil," calls him one of the greatest statesmen of his country. He was a patriot, whose one dream was to see Portugal the standard-bearer of Christianity in the Old and New Worlds. As an orator he was one of the world's masters, and as a prose writer the greatest that Portugal has every produced. His sermons alone fill fifteen volumes, and there are many of his manuscripts to be found in the British Museum, the National Library of Paris, and elsewhere.
When St. Francis Borgia, the third General of the Society, died in 1572, his most likely successor was Polanco, who had been the secretary of St. Ignatius, and was generally credited with having absorbed the genuine spirit of St. Ignatius. Had he been elected, he would have been the fourth successive Spanish General. It would have been a misfortune at that time, and would have fastened on the members of the Society the name which was already given to them in some parts of Europe: "the Spanish priests," a designation that would have been an implicit denial of the catholicity of the Order, even though the Spanish monarch was "His Catholic Majesty."
Their devoted friend, Pope Gregory XIII, saw the danger and determined to avert it. Fortunately, he had just been asked by Philip of Spain, Sebastian of Portugal, and the cardinal inquisitor not to allow the election of Polanco, who was of Jewish descent. The Pope determined to go further and to exclude any Spaniard from the office, for the time being. At the customary visit of the delegates, prior to the election, he intimated that as there had been three successive Spanish Generals, it might be wise, in view of the world-wide expansion of the Society, to elect someone of another nationality, and he suggested Mercurian. Doubtless his words found a ready response in the hearts of many of those to whom they were addressed, and even most of the Spaniards must have seen the wisdom of the change. A remonstrance, however, was respectfully made that His Holiness was thus withdrawing from the Society its right of freedom of election, to which the Pope made answer that such was not his intention; but in case a Spaniard was chosen he would like to be told who he was, before the public announcement was made. As the Pope's word is law, the Spaniards were excluded as candidates, and apparently, as a measure of conciliation, Everard de Mercœur, or Mercurian, was elected. As his native country, Belgium, was then subject to Spain, the blow thus given to the Spaniards was, to a certain extent, softened. But it was the beginning of trouble which at one time almost threatened the Society with destruction. Fortunately, Mercurian's successor, Aquaviva, had to deal with it when it came.
Mercurian had as yet done nothing great enough to attract public attention; but he evidently enjoyed the unqualified esteem of the Pope. In the Society itself he had filled many important posts such as vice-præpositus of the professed house in Rome, rector of the new college of Perugia, visitor and provincial of Flanders and France, and assistant of Francis Borgia. And in all of these charges he was said to have reproduced in his government the living image of St. Ignatius. A man with such a reputation was invaluable, especially for the spiritual life of the Society, and that is of infinitely greater importance than outward show. There is one thing for which the Order is especially very grateful to him namely, the "Summary of the Constitutions," and the "Common Rules" and the rules for each office, which he drew up at the beginning of his administration. This digest is read every month in the refectory of every Jesuit house and selections from it form the basis of the domestic exhortations given twice a month to the communities by the rector or spiritual father. By this means the character and purpose of the Institute is kept continually before the eyes of every Jesuit, from the youngest novice to the oldest professed, and they are made to see plainly that there is nothing cryptic or esoteric in the government of the Society. Hence, when the priest, after his ordination, goes through what is called his third year of probation, in which the study of the Institute constitutes a large part of his work, nothing really new is presented to him. It is familiar matter studied more profoundly.
There were other great men whose names might be mentioned here, but they will appear later in the course of this history.
CHAPTER V
THE ENGLISH MISSION
Conditions after Henry VIII – Allen – Persons – Campion – Entrance into England – Kingsley's Caricature – Thomas Pounde – Stephens – Capture and death of Campion – Other Martyrs – Southwell, Walpole – Jesuits in Ireland and Scotland – The English Succession – Dissensions – The Archpriest Blackwell – The Appellants – The Bye-Plot – Accession of James I – The Gunpowder Plot – Garnet, Gerard.
When Dr Allen suggested to Father Mercurian to send Jesuits to the English mission, Claudius Aquaviva came forward as an enthusiastic advocate of the undertaking, and was one of the first to volunteer. He was not, however, accepted, because evidently only English-speaking priests would be of any use there. But his election as General shortly after gave new courage to Campion and his companions when they were in the thick of the fight.
Dr Allen had left England in 1561, and taken refuge in Belgium, but he returned in the following year, and went around among the persecuted Catholics, exhorting them to be steadfast in their Faith. He found that the people were not Protestants by choice, and he was convinced that all they needed was an organized body of trained men to look after their spiritual needs, to comfort them in their trials, and to keep them well-instructed in their religion. Because of the lack of such help they were not only becoming indifferent, but were almost ready to compromise with their persecutors. Henry had confiscated ninety colleges, two thousand three hundred and fourteen chantries and free chapels and ten hospitals, besides putting to death seventy-six priests and monks, beginning with Fisher, the Bishop of Rochester, as well as a great number of others, gentle and simple, conspicuous among whom was the illustrious chancellor, Thomas More. There was a partial cessation of persecution when Edward VI, a boy, was placed on the throne, and, of course, the conditions changed completely when Mary Tudor came to her own. But when the terrible Elizabeth, infuriated by her excommunication, took the reins of government in her hands, no one was safe. Unfortunately, however, in the interval, the people had become used to the situation, and it began to be a common thing for them to resort to all sorts of subterfuges, even going to Protestant churches to conceal their Faith. Hence, there was great danger that, in the very near future, Catholicity would completely die out in England. Allen proposed to Father Mercurian to employ the Society to avert that disaster.
Some of the General's consultors balked at the project because it implied an absolutely novel condition of missionary life. There were none of the community helps, such as were available even in the Indies and in Japan; for, in England, the priest would have to go about as a peddler, or a soldier, or a sailor, or the like, mingling with all sorts of people, in all sorts of surroundings, and would thus be in danger of losing his religious spirit. The obvious reply was that if a man neglected what helps were at hand he would no doubt be in danger of losing his vocation, but that otherwise God would provide. Allen had already founded a missionary house at Douai in 1568, and its success may be estimated from the fact that one hundred and sixty priests, most of them from the secular clergy, who had been trained there, were martyred for the Faith. He had succeeded also in obtaining another establishment in Rome. In 1578, however, when the occupants of Douai were expelled, they were lodged at Rheims in the house of the Jesuits. Meantime, the Roman foundation had been entrusted to the Society; and with these two sources of supplies now at his disposal, Father Mercurian determined to begin the great work.
The most conspicuous figure in this heroic enterprise was Edmund Campion. He was born in London, and after the usual training in a grammar school was sent to Christ's Hospital. There he towered head and shoulders over everyone; and when Queen Mary made her solemn entry into London, it was he who made an address of welcome to her at St. Paul's School. With the queen on that occasion was her sister Elizabeth. Later, when Sir Thomas White founded St. John's College, Oxford, Campion was made a junior fellow there, and "for twelve years," says "The Catholic Encyclopedia," "he was the idol of Oxford, and was followed and imitated as no man ever was in an English University except himself and Newman." The "Dictionary of National Biography" goes further and informs us that "he was so greatly admired for his grace of eloquence that young men imitated not only his phrases but his gait, and revered him as a second Cicero." He was chosen to deliver the oration at the re-interment of Amy Robsart, the murdered wife of Robert Dudley, afterwards Earl of Leicester. The funeral discourse on the founder of the college was also assigned to him. In 1566 when Queen Elizabeth visited Oxford, Campion welcomed her in the name of the University, and was defender in a Latin disputation held in presence of her majesty. The queen expressed her admiration of his eloquence and commended him particularly to Dudley for advancement.
Father Persons assures us that "Campion was always a Catholic at heart, and utterly condemned all the form and substance of the new religion. Yet the sugared words of the great folk, especially the queen, joined with pregnant hopes of speedy and great preferment, so enticed him that he knew not which way to turn." While in this state of mind, he was induced by Cheyney, the Bishop of Gloucester, who had retained much of the ancient Faith, to accept deacon's orders and to pronounce the oath of supremacy, but the reproaches of a friend opened his eyes to his sin; and in anguish of soul, he abandoned all his collegiate honors. In August, 1569, he set out for Ireland. The reason for going there was to participate in a movement for resurrecting the old papal University of Dublin, the direction of which was to be entrusted largely to him. The scheme, however, fell through, chiefly on account of Campion, but very much to his credit. His papistry was too open. Meantime, he had written a "History of Ireland" based chiefly on Giraldus Cambrensis, which has ever since strongly prejudiced Irish people against him, notwithstanding his sanctity. But his good name has recently been restored by the distinguished Jesuit historian, Father Edmund Hogan, who tells us, that when Campion fled from Dublin to escape arrest for being a Catholic his manuscript fell into the hands of his pursuers who garbled and mutilated it at pleasure. He himself never published the book.
It will be of interest to students of literature to learn that one of Shakespeare's most famous passages was borrowed from this "History," namely, the description of Cardinal Wolsey in Henry VIII. Whole passages have been worked into the play. As Campion wrote it in 1569, when Shakespeare was only four or five years old, its authorship is beyond dispute. Conditions finally became so unpleasant in Dublin that he was obliged to take to flight. He left Ireland disguised as a serving-man and reached London, in time to witness the execution of Dr. Storey in June, 1571. That completed the work of his conversion, and he went to Douai, where after a recantation of his heresy, he resumed his course of scholastic theology; a year later, he set out for Rome as a penniless pilgrim, arriving there barefooted and in rags, much to the amazement of one of his former Oxford admirers, who met him on the street.
He was received into the Society by Father Mercurian, and made his novitiate at Prague in Bohemia, where he was ordained in 1578. He was one of the first group of missionaries who left the Continent for England under the guidance of Persons. In the party were Dr. Goldwell, Bishop of Saint Asaph, thirteen secular priests, three Jesuits: Persons, Campion and Ralph Emerson, a lay-brother, besides two young men not in orders. Goldwell had been consecrated as early as 1555 and had accompanied Cardinal Pole to England; he was England's sole representative at the Council of Trent. He was now on his way again to his native country, but he fell ill at Rheims and, according to the "Dictionary of National Biography," was recalled by the Pope. "This," says Dr. Guilday (English Refugees, p. 125), "was a disappointment to Persons. The presence of a bishop in England had been a condition of the Jesuits' taking up the burden of converting lapsed Catholics, and despite all the rebuffs the demand for a hierarchy met at Rome, the Jesuits themselves continually renewed it." These words of the distinguished historian who is the most recent witness in the matter of the archipresbyterate are invaluable testimony on a sorely controverted point.
The missionaries left Rome on foot, and passing through Milan were detained for a week by St. Charles Borromeo, who made Campion discourse every day to the episcopal household on some theological topic. From there they directed their steps to Geneva and were bold enough to visit Theodore Beza in his own house, but he refused to discuss religious matters. At Rheims Campion spoke to the students on the glory of martyrdom. Finally he and Persons arrived at Calais, and made their plans to cross the Channel; the other missionaries had meantime scattered along the coast, as it would have been manifestly unsafe for all to embark at the same place. Persons went aboard the boat disguised as a naval officer, and on stepping ashore at Dover presented himself with supreme audacity to the port warden or governor, and asked for a permit for his friend "Patrick," a merchant who was waiting on the other side for leave to cross. "Patrick" was Campion. He had used that name when escaping from Ireland, and as it had stood him in good stead then, he again assumed it.
Campion, however, did not play his part as well as Persons, for the governor eyed him intently and said: "You are Doctor Allen." "Indeed, I am not," replied Campion. "Well, you are a suspicious character, at all events, and your case must be looked into." A council was accordingly held, and it was decided to send the new-comer to London, under an armed escort. Campion thought himself lost, but up in his heart arose a prayer: "O Lord, let me work at least one year for my country, and then do with me what Thou wilt." Immediately a change came over the Governor's face, and, to the amazement of everyone, he said: "I was mistaken; you can go." Full of gratitude to God, the future martyr made all haste for London, where someone was on the look-out for him, and he soon met Father Persons.
Such are the plain facts taken from the writings of Campion to his superiors, describing his arrival in England. But the public mind had to be debauched on this as on every other point concerning the Jesuits, even at the expense of the man whom Oxford is still proud of as a scholar and a gentleman, who was called by Cecil "one of the diamonds of England," and whose grace and beauty and eloquence made him the favorite of Dudley and Elizabeth. In spite of all that, however, Kingsley, in his "Westward Ho" (chap. iii), describes Campion at this juncture of his life as "a grotesque dwarf whose sword, getting between his spindle shanks, gave him, at times, the appearance of having three legs, and figuring sometimes as a tail when it stuck out behind. He was so small that he could only scratch at the ribs of his horse which he was trying to mount on the wrong side, but he finally succeeded in gaining his seat by the help of a stool." He also wore "a tonsure," we are informed, "cut by apostolic scissors," and Londoner though he was, he is made to speak of his countrymen as "Islanders." Persons also is described as a blustering, blaspheming bully, who gives himself absolution for his own transgressions. All this is omitted, however, from the school edition of "Westward Ho."
Persons and Campion set to work immediately, and soon managed to call a meeting of the priests who were in hiding in various places of the country. The purpose of the summons was to let them know that the newcomers had received the most stringent orders from their superiors to keep absolutely aloof from anything savoring of politics. At Hoxton, Campion made a written statement to that effect; and it was there that he received a visit from one of the most interesting, and, to some extent, the oddest of the English missionaries – a man who was made a Jesuit by letter – the famous Thomas Pounde.
Pounde had begun by being a very conspicuous fop at the court of Queen Elizabeth. He was a favorite of the queen, and had, on one occasion, prepared a splendid pageant at which her majesty was present. One of its features was a dance, a pas seul by himself. However, as luck would have it, he stumbled and fell right at the queen's feet. The accident was ridiculous enough to humiliate him, but when his gracious sovereign honored him with a brutal kick, and called out scoffingly: "Get up, Sir Ox," Pounde arose, indeed, but not as an ox. He was a changed man. Up to that, though a Catholic, he had put his religion aside altogether. Now, he openly proclaimed his Faith and exhorted others to do the same. The result was that he was confined in almost every dungeon of the kingdom. He was loaded with fetters and shut up in cells where no ray of light could penetrate; and when liberated, either through the influence of friends, or because he had served the appointed term, he was incarcerated again. Everywhere and at all times he preached the truths of the Faith, not only in a courageous, but in an extraordinarily joyous fashion to his fellow-prisoners, or to people outside the jail, making converts of many and inducing others to amend their lives. Of the latter class was a certain Thomas Cottam, an Oxford man, who, thanks to his friend Pounde, not only became very devout, but, after he had succeeded in getting to the Continent, became a Jesuit and returning later was martyred at Tyburn on May 30, 1582.
A chance reading of the Jesuit missions in India had quite captivated Pounde, as well as a friend of his, named Thomas Stephens, who used to go around disguised as Pounde's servant. They determined to make for the Continent and to ask for admission to the Society. On the way, Pounde was captured because he had stopped too long in trying to convert a Protestant who had given him shelter; Stephens, however, reached Rome and was admitted to the Society. But instead of being sent back to England, as one would have fancied, his longing for India was satisfied, and we find him in Goa, on October 24, 1579. He was there known as Padre Estevão, or Estevan, or again as Padre Busten, Buston, or de Buston, the latter names being so many Portuguese efforts to pronounce Bulstan, in Wiltshire, England, where Stephens was born about 1549. As we see from the dates, he had then reached the age of 30. He is mentioned in Hakluyt's "Voyages" as the first Englishman who ever went to India. Hakluyt's information came from a series of letters which Stephens wrote to his father, "offering the strongest inducements to London merchants to embark on Indian speculations." These letters bore such evidence of sound commercial knowledge that they are regarded as having suggested the formation of the English East India Company.
Father Stephens spent his first five years as minister of the professed house at Goa, and was then sent to Salsette as rector, and, for a time, was socius to the visitor. After that he spent thirty-five years as a missionary among the Brahmin Catholics of Salsette, but his labors in that field did not prevent him from doing a great deal of hard literary work. Thus, he was the first to make a scientific study of Canarese. He also plunged into Hindustani, and wrote grammars and books of devotion in those languages. Most of his writings, however, were lost at the time of the Suppression of the Society. He died in Goa in 1619. (The Catholic Encyclopedia, XIV, 292.)
Pounde's Jesuit work was quite different from that of Stephens. Not being able to present himself in person to the General, he asked by letter to be received into the Order. It was on December 1, 1578, while he was imprisoned in the Tower that an answer came from Father Mercurian granting his request. That encouraged him to labor more strenuously than ever, and for thirty years he kept on defying the Government. Lingard gives one notable instance of his audacity, though the great historian does not seem to be aware that Pounde was a Jesuit. In the proceedings connected with the Gunpowder Plot, someone was sentenced for harboring a Jesuit. Pounde appeared in court to protest against the ruling of the judge, with the result that he himself was arrested. He was condemned to have one of his ears cut off, to go to prison for life, and to pay a fine of a thousand pounds, if he did not tell who advised him to act as he did. He did not lose his ear; while he was in the Tower the queen, Anne of Denmark, interceded in his behalf. Her loving husband, however, King James I, told her: "never to open her mouth again in favor of a Catholic." Finally he got off by standing a whole day in the pillory, an experience which he probably enjoyed, for in spite of dungeons and chains and loss of property and his own terrible austerity – he often scourged himself to blood – he never lost his spirit of fun. He ended his wonderful career on March 5, 1615, at the age of 76, at Belmont, breathing his last in the room in which he was born.
When Campion was caught on his way to Lancashire and brought to London, where he was stretched on the rack and interrogated again and again while being tortured, the story was circulated that he had, at last, not only recanted, but had revealed secrets of the confessional. Pounde was in a fury about it, and wrote Campion an indignant letter, but he found out that it was one of the usual tricks of the English Government. The same villainy had been practised by Elizabeth's father on More and Fisher, but like them, Campion was too true a man to yield to suffering. On August 31, by order of the queen, bruised as he was and almost dismembered by the long and repeated rackings, he was led with Sherwin to a public disputation in the royal presence. Against them were Nowell and Day, two of the doughtiest champions of heresy that could be found in the kingdom. The dispute lasted for four hours in the morning and four in the afternoon – the intention being to keep it up for days. It was during this debate that the listeners saw with horror, as Campion stretched out his arms to emphasize his words by a gesture, that the nails had been torn off the fingers of both hands. The public discussions ended after the second session, for Nowell and Day had been completely beaten. What happened in the examinations held after that, behind closed doors, the authorities never let the world know, but it leaked out that Campion had made many converts among those who came to hear him. One of them was Arundel, who subsequently died for his faith on the scaffold.
On November 14 the Jesuits, Campion and Thomas Cottam, with Ralph Sherwin, Bosgrave, Rhiston, Luke Kirby, Robert Johnson and Orton, secular priests, were called for trial. They all pleaded innocent of felony and rebellion. "How could we be conspirators?" Campion asked, "we eight men never met before; and some of us have never seen each other." On November 16, six others were cited. It was on this occasion that Campion answered the question: "Do you believe Elizabeth to be the lawful queen?" "I told it to herself," he said, "in the castle of the Duke of Leicester." Thither he had been called for a private interview, and Elizabeth recognized him as the Oxford man and the little lad of Christ Church, who, not then dreaming of the terrible future in store for him, had paid the homage of respectful and perhaps affectionate loyalty to her majesty. At that meeting were Leicester, the Earl of Bedford, two secretaries of state and the queen. As the prosecution was so weak and the defense made by Campion was so unassailable, everyone expected an acquittal, but to their amazement, a verdict of guilty was brought in. "The trial," says Hallam, "was as unfairly conducted and supported by as slender evidence as can be found in our books." (Constitutional History of England, I, 146.)
When the presiding judge asked the accused if they had anything to say, Campion replied: "The only thing that we have now to say is that if our religion makes us traitors we are worthy to be condemned, but otherwise we are and have been as true subjects as ever the queen had. In condemning us, you condemn all your own ancestors, all that was once the glory of England, the Island of Saints, and the most devoted child of the See of St. Peter. For what have we taught, however you may qualify it with the odious name of treason, that they did not uniformly teach? To be condemned along with those who were the glory not of England alone but of the whole world by their degenerate descendants is both glory and gladness to us. God lives; posterity will live, and their judgment is not so liable to corruption as that of those who are now going to condemn us to death." When the sentence was uttered, Campion lifting up his voice intoned the "Te Deum laudamus" in which the others joined, following with the anthem "Hæc est dies quam fecit Dominus, exultemus et lætemur in ea" (This is the day which the Lord has made; let us rejoice and exult in it.) There were conversions in the courtroom that day.
The scene at the scaffold on December 1, was characterized by the brutality of savages. The victims were placed on hurdles and dragged through the streets to Tyburn. Campion was the first to mount the fatal cart, and when the rope was put about his neck and he was addressing the crowd that thronged around, Knowles interrupted him with, "Stop your preaching and confess yourself a traitor." To which Campion replied, "If it be a crime to be a Catholic, I am a traitor." He continued to speak, but the cart was drawn from under him and he was left dangling in the air. Before he breathed his last he was cut down, his heart was torn out and the hangman holding it aloft in his bloody hand, cried out, "Behold the heart of a traitor!" and flung it into the fire. Alexander Briant and Ralph Sherwin then met the same fate. Previous to this gruesome tragedy, 4,000 people had been won back to the Faith.