The Jesuits, 1534-1921

Scotland had been visited in 1562 by Father Gouda who was sent to Mary Queen of Scots to invite her to have her bishops go to the Council of Trent. He brought back with him six young Scots who were to be the founders of the future mission. Prominent among them was Edmund Hay, who became rector of Clermont. In 1584 Crichton and Gordon attempted to enter their country, but Crichton was captured, while Gordon succeeded in finding his way in, and was afterwards joined by Hay and Drury. The Earl of Huntley, who was Gordon's nephew, and for a time the leader of the Catholic party, joined the Kirk in 1597, and that put an end to the mission. Prior to that, Father Abercrombie made a Catholic of the queen, Anne of Denmark, but she was not much to boast of. Meantime, the Scots College had been founded by Mary Stuart in Paris, and later other colleges were begun in Rome and Madrid. In 1614 Father John Ogilvie was martyred at Glasgow, while his associates were banished.

Coming back to England, where more tragedies were to be enacted, we find that before Campion was executed, Persons had succeeded in reaching France. He had intended to return after he had secured a printing-press to replace the one that had been seized, but, as a matter of fact, England never saw him again. Dr. Allen would not allow him to return; he, therefore, remained on the Continent and was conspicuous as a staunch supporter of the French League in its early days, and an advocate of the invasion of England by Philip II, primarily in the interest of Mary Queen of Scots, but also, to secure a successor to Queen Elizabeth. We find him frequently in Spain on various missions: in 1588 to reconcile Philip with Father Aquaviva; at other times, to obtain from the king the foundations of the seminaries of Valladolid, Seville and Madrid, as well as of two residences which afterwards developed into collegiate establishments. Allen had left England in 1565, sixteen years before Persons, and it is worth noting that during the three years which he spent in going around from place to place to sustain the courage of the persecuted Catholics he was not yet a priest. He was ordained only when he crossed over to Mechlin, sometime in 1565; it was not until 1587, twenty-two years afterwards that he was made a cardinal; he was never raised to the episcopal dignity. He was mentioned, it is true, for the See of Mechlin by Philip II, but, for some reason which has never been thoroughly explained, the nomination, although publicly allowed to stand several years, was never confirmed. He continued to reside at the English College in Rome until his death on October 16, 1594.

For some time previously the burning question of the English succession was being discussed by English Catholics and it did more harm to the Church in England than the persecutions of Henry and Elizabeth. Elizabeth had left no issue, and had not designated her heir. Some were in favor of a certain princess of Spain, who could trace her lineage back to John of Gaunt, and both Allen and Persons espoused her cause. Others held out for James VI of Scotland; a rabid partisan on this side was the Scotch Jesuit, Crichton, who was supported by a very large contingent of the secular clergy. A similar divergence of sentiment showed itself in Rome. Thus, for example, the cardinal-protector of the English mission, Gaetano, was pro-Spanish; the vice-protector, Cardinal Borghese, was pro-French, and with him was the Jesuit Cardinal Toletus, who, though a Spaniard, was against his countrymen in this matter. The Pope was not pro-Spanish. The result was that the English College in Rome was torn asunder by dissensions or "stirs" and some of the students gave public scandal in the city. Order was not restored till Persons was recalled from Spain to be rector of the college, but even he was told to his face by some of his boisterous pupils that they would never change their opinion, and they contended that if they died for it they would be martyrs of the Faith. Conditions were much worse in England itself. Even among the priests who were confined at Wisbeach, bitter disputes were kept up year after year in a way that was the reverse of edifying. Finally, when cognizance of this deplorable state of affairs was taken at Rome, Father Persons was requested to suggest a remedy, after Dr. Stapleton, who was a pro-Spaniard, had been summoned to Rome, but had failed to arrive on account of ill-health. In 1597 Persons, now no longer rector of the college, presented to the Pope a memorial drawn up in England asking for the appointment of two bishops, one for England proper, and the other for the English in Flanders. This proposition was sent to a commission of the Holy Office, but they gave an adverse decision, namely that the new hierarchy should not be episcopal, but sacerdotal, with an archpriest at its head.

Persons, who had been from the outset insisting on the necessity of sending a bishop to England, did not easily give up his plan, and he persuaded Cardinal Gaetano to take him around to all the members of the commission in order to press his views upon them, but without avail. Out of caution, the Pope resolved not to set up the hierarchy by Papal brief, and he gave orders to the cardinal-protector, Gaetano, to issue "constitutive letters" to that effect. The draft for these letters was prepared in the Papal Archivi dei Brevi, where it is still extant (Pollen, Institution of the Archpriest Blackwell, p. 25; see also Meyer, England and the Church under Elizabeth, p. 409. Meyer is a German Protestant). Hence, it is clear that the Jesuits are not responsible for the establishment of an archipresbyterate instead of an episcopate to rule England. It was the explicit act of the Holy Office and of the Pope. Moreover, the trouble that subsequently arose was due, not from the function itself, but from the person to whom it was entrusted; for, though Blackwell was the man most in evidence at that time, and one for whom everyone would have voted, he had too exalted an idea of his new dignity, and resorted to such high-handed and autocratic methods that his rule became intolerable. As a result, two Appellants made their way to Rome, as representatives of the clergy, though, as a matter of fact, no such commission had been given them. On their arrival, they were promptly put in seclusion in one of the colleges, and were forbidden to return to England.

Then began a bitter war of pamphlets between the adherents and the adversaries of the archpriest. Persons, and the Jesuits, in general, were especially assailed. One of the malcontents, Bluet, actually put himself in communication with the Protestant Bishop Bancroft, who expressed the opinion that "it was clearer than light that Persons had no other object except the conquest of England by the Spaniards." Bluet assented, and added that "the charge against the Jesuit would be proved best by our appeal to the Pope, in which we should make all our grievances manifest." Bancroft revealed this to the queen, and the government then did all in its power to foment the dissensions and facilitate the appeal to the Pope. In 1602 another party of Appellants set out for Rome with no authorization whatever, except that of their own faction. On their way they were joined by a Dr. Cecil, who was, though they were unaware of it, in the employ of the English Government as a spy – a degradation to which he had descended, not precisely to ruin his co-religionists, but because he was under the delusion that he could so reconstruct the Church in England that it would be acceptable to the queen.

Cecil and his companions were admitted to Rome only because the French Ambassador, de Béthune, took them under his protection. He had constituted himself their patron, not, however, for religious reasons, but merely to score a point against the influence of the King of Spain with the Pope. Their reception by his Holiness was extremely cold, and when they reported back to de Béthune, he appeared before the Pope on the next day, and said: "Hitherto the Catholic policy has been grossly wrong (turpiter erratum est). Nothing has been tried except arms, poisons, and plots. If only these were laid aside Elizabeth would be tolerant. Therefore, (1) Your Holiness must withdraw your censures from the queen; (2) you must threaten the Catholics with censure if they attempt political measures against her directly or indirectly; (3) Father Persons and his like must be chastised and expelled from your seminaries; (4) the Archpriest, who seems to have been constituted solely to help the Spanish faction by false informations, should be removed or much restrained; (5) if perhaps all this cannot be done at once, a beginning should be made by giving satisfaction to the Appellant priests; (6) then, by degrees, Henri will intervene and Elizabeth's anger will cool down." As Pollen remarks: "The Frenchman's boldness was almost sublime. To throw over St. Pius V, Cardinal Allen, Gregory, Sixtus, Campion and all the seminaries, with one sweeping remark: turpiter erratum est – was worthy of la furie française. De Béthune scoffed at a past already acknowledged to be one of the glories of the Church, as a period of murder plots, diversified by armed invasions."

On October 12 the Pope gave a Brief to the contending parties to settle their quarrel. Both sides shouted victory, and the paper was at once sent to England, where it was intercepted by Elizabeth's spies. The government responded by a proclamation against the Catholic clergy, banishing them from the realm lest it might be thought that Elizabeth had ever meant to grant toleration. "God doth know our innocency," it said, "of any such imagining." The royal proclamation was cunningly devised. It declared that all Jesuits were unqualified traitors and must leave the country within thirty days. For other Catholics, a commission was to be appointed which, after three months, was to begin an individual examination of all suspects and deal with them at discretion.

By the Scottish party this was regarded as the beginning of a new era, and they, consequently, drafted an instrument stating: (1) that they owed the same civil obedience to the queen as that which bound Catholic priests to Catholic sovereigns; (2) that they would inform her of any plots or attempts at evasion, even when made to place a Catholic sovereign on the throne; (3) that were any excommunication issued against them on account of their performance of this duty, they would regard it as not binding. This statement was issued on January 31, 1603. It never reached Elizabeth, for she died in the following March. But as it stood, it was in direct contravention of the Pope's instructions to the clergy to do all in their power, short of rebellion, to restore the Catholic succession.

Before the death of Elizabeth, two clergymen, Watson and Clarke had gone to Scotland to sound James on his possible attitude to English Catholics in case he obtained the throne. Of course, he was extremely affable, to them, as he was to the English Puritans, who were just then arrayed in opposition to the Established Church. But he was no sooner king than he began to treat both Puritans and Catholics with such rigor that a plot was formed by both of the aggrieved parties to seize his person and compel him to modify his policy. Among the Protestant conspirators were such men as Cobham, Markham, Grey and Walter Raleigh. The whole history of this singular combination, however, is so confused that it is hard to pronounce with certainty as to what really was done or intended. But it appears that the purpose of the Catholic conspirators was to allow the king to be taken prisoner by the Puritans and then to rescue him from their hands. It was called the Bye Plot, and was based on the hope that James would be so grateful for this act of devotion to his interest that he would grant all their requests. On the other hand, such childish simplicity seems almost incredible. It was worthy of the visionary, Watson, who planned it.

The farce ended in a tragedy. The two priests were hanged without more ado. Of the Puritans, Cobham was sent to the scaffold, and Grey, Markham and Raleigh, after being condemned, were pardoned. King James received a letter from the Pope regretting the action of Watson and Clarke, and assuring him of the abhorrence with which he regarded all acts of disloyalty. He also expressed his willingness to recall any missionary who might be an object of suspicion, and both Jesuits and seculars were ordered to confine themselves to their spiritual duties and to discourage by every means in their power any attempt to disturb the tranquillity of the realm (Lingard, History of England, IX, 21).

In 1604 James drew up for Catholics an oath of allegiance which not only denied the power of the Pope to depose kings, but declared that such a claim was heretical, impious and damnable. It was condemned by Paul V, but the Archpriest Blackwell publicly announced that notwithstanding the condemnation, the oath might be conscientiously taken by any English Catholic, and he accepted it himself before the Commissioners of Lambeth. Bellarmine and Persons wrote long expostulations to him, but without avail. He was finally deposed from office, and Birkhead took his place as archpriest. "This measure," says Lingard, "was productive of a deep and long-continued schism in the Catholic body. The greater number, swayed by the authority of the new Archpriest and of the Jesuit missionaries, looked upon the oath as a denial of their religion; but, on the other hand, many preferring to be satisfied with the arguments of Blackwell and his advocates, cheerfully took it, when it was offered, and thus freed themselves from the severe penalties to which they would have been subject by the refusal" (op. cit., IX, 77).

Now came the disaster. Irritated beyond measure by the treachery and the tyranny of King James I, a number of Catholic gentlemen, some of them recent converts, formed a plot to blow up the House of Parliament and so get rid of king, lords and commons by one blow.

While the plans were being laid, some of the conspirators began to doubt about their right to involve so many innocent people in the wholesale ruin that must result from this terrible crime. To settle their scruples, Catesby, the chief plotter, proposed a supposititious case to Father Garnet, the Jesuit provincial. "I am going to join the army of the Archduke on the Continent," he said, "and I may be ordered, for example, to blow up a mine in order to destroy the enemy. Can I do so, even if a number of innocent persons are killed?" The answer of course was in the affirmative, and then Catesby made haste to assure his friends that they could proceed in their work with a safe conscience. But as time wore on, he was noticed by his friends to be habitually excited, very often absent from home, and apparently not preparing to go abroad, as he had said he intended to do. Hence, suspicion was aroused, and Garnet, having received some vague hints of the conspiracy, took occasion at Catesby's own table, to inculcate on his host the necessity of submitting meekly to the persecution then going on. Whereupon Catesby burst out in a rage: "It is to you and such as you," he exclaimed, "that we owe our present calamities. This doctrine of non-resistance makes us slaves. No priest or pontiff can deprive a man of the right to repel injustice." Garnet, alarmed at this utterance, immediately wrote to his superior in Rome, and in due time received two letters, one from the General, the other from the Pope, putting him under strict orders to do all in his power to prevent any attempt against the State. These letters were shown to Catesby, but he protested that they were written on wrong information, and he volunteered to send a special messenger to Rome to put before the authorities there the true state of things. This promise satisfied Garnet, and he felt sure the matter was disposed of, at least, for a time.

This was on May 8, 1605. On October 26, Catesby went to confession to Father Greenwell, or Greenway, or Texmunde, or Tessimond, a Yorkshire man, and revealed the whole plot. Greenwell showed his horror at the proposition and forbade him to entertain it, but Catesby refused to be convinced, and asked him to state the case to Garnet, under seal of confession, with leave to speak of it to others, after the matter, had become public. This will explain how the fact of the confession came out in the trial. Unfortunately, Greenwell was foolish enough to communicate it to Garnet under seal of confession. He was bitterly reproved for doing so, but it was too late; had he kept it to himself, Garnet would not have died on the scaffold. On November 5 after midnight, the plot was discovered, and Guy Fawkes, who was guarding the powder in the cellar of the building where Parliament was to meet, was seized, and acknowledged that the thirty-five barrels of powder which had been placed there were "to blow the Scottish beggars back to their native mountains" – an utterance that won from the king the expression: "Fawkes is the English Scævola." The other conspirators had time to flee, but were caught on November 8, at Holbeach House. They made a brief stand, but in the fight four were killed, among them Catesby. The others, with the exception of Littleton, who, it would seem, had betrayed them, purposely or otherwise, were taken prisoners and lodged in the Tower.

"More than two months intervened," says Lingard, "between the apprehension and the trial of the conspirators. The ministers had persuaded themselves, or wished to persuade others, that the Jesuit missionaries were deeply implicated in the plot. On this account the prisoners were subjected to repeated examinations; every artifice which ingenuity could devise, both promises and threats, the sight of the rack, and occasionally the infliction of torture were employed to draw from them some avowal which might furnish a ground for the charge; and in a proclamation issued for the apprehension of Gerard, Garnet, and Greenway, it was said to be plain and evident from the examinations that all three had been peculiarly practisers in the plot, and therefore no less pernicious than the actors and counsellors of the treason."

The mention of Gerard in the warrant arose from the fact that two years previously, namely on May 1, 1604, the first five conspirators, Catesby, Percy, Wright, Fawkes, and Winter, met "at a house in the fields beyond St. Clement's Inn, where," according to Fawkes' confession, "they did confer and agree on the plot; and they took a solemn oath and vowed by all their force to execute the same, and of secrecy not to reveal it to any of their fellows, but to such as should be thought fit persons to enter into the action, and in the same house they did receive the sacrament of Gerard, the Jesuit, to perform their vow and oath of secrecy aforesaid, but that Gerard was not acquainted with their purpose." This document is in the handwriting of Sir Edward Coke, but there appear in the original paper, just before the phrase exculpating Gerard, the words huc usque (i. e. up to this). Coke read the passage to the judges, "up to this" but the words that would have freed Gerard from suspicion he withheld. "At length," continues Lingard, "the eight prisoners were arraigned. They all pleaded not guilty, not, they wished it to be observed, because they denied their participation in the conspiracy, but because the indictment contained much to which till that day they had been strangers. It was false that the three Jesuits had been the authors of the conspiracy, or had ever held consultations with them on the subject: as far as had come to their knowledge, all three were innocent." They maintained their own right to do as they had done, because "no means of liberation was left but the one they had adopted."

Gerard and Greenwell escaped to the Continent, whereas Garnet, after sending a protestation of his innocence to the Council, secreted himself in the house of Thomas Abingdon, who had married a sister of Lord Mounteagle, the nobleman who had first put the authorities on the scent. According to Jardine (Criminal Trials, 67-70) much ingenuity was employed at the trial to prevent Mounteagle's name from being called in question. With Garnet were Father Oldcorne and Owen, a lay-brother, and also a servant named Chambers. Oldcorne was the chaplain of the house, but Hallam in his Constitutional History (I-554) says: "the damning circumstance against Garnet is that he was taken at Hendlip in concealment, along with the other conspirators." As Oldcorne and the two others had nothing whatever to do with the affair and as all the conspirators had been already shot or hanged, "the damning evidence" of perverting the facts of the case is against Hallam.

On February 1, the Bill of Attainder was read, and day after day, till March 28, the commissioners visited the Tower to elicit evidence. Oldcorne was repeatedly put on the rack, but nothing was extorted from him. So also with Owen, Chambers and Johnson, the chief steward of the house where the priests were found. On March 1, after Owen had been tortured, he was told he would be stretched on the rack the two following days. The third experiment killed him, and it was given out that "he had ripped his belly open with a blunt knife." Garnet, when threatened with the rack, replied that "the threat did not frighten him – he was not a child."

The trial was finally called for March 28. The most distinguished lawyer in the realm at that time was Attorney-General Coke. He began his charge by recalling the history of all the plots that had been hatched since Elizabeth's time; he declaimed against Jesuitical equivocation and the temporal power of the Pope, and insisted that all missionaries, and the Jesuits in particular, were leagued in conspiracy against the king and his Protestant councillors. But when he got down to the real merits of the indictment, he soon betrayed the groundlessness of his charge. Not a word did he say of the confessions or the witnesses or their dying declarations, although he had boasted he would prove that Garnet had been the original framer of the plot and the confidential adviser of the conspirators. His whole charge rested on his own assertions, and was supported only by a few unimportant facts, susceptible of a very different interpretation (Lingard, op. cit., IX, 63).

Garnet answered that he had been debarred from making known his information of the plot for the reason that it had been imparted to him under the seal of confession, and could not be revealed until it had become public property. His concealment of it, nevertheless, was considered by the judges as misprision of treason, and on that ground, and not by anything adduced by the attorney-general, was he condemned. Indeed, Coke had so utterly failed to prove his case that even Cecil confessed that nothing had been produced against Garnet, except that he had been overheard to say in conversation with Oldcorne in the Tower, that "only one person knew of his acquaintance with the conspiracy." It is this particular feature of the trial that has evoked ever since a great deal of hypocritical denunciation of Garnet's lack of veracity. When asked if he had spoken to Oldcorne or written to Greenway, he replied in the negative; but it was proved that he had done both. As it is Coke who alleges this inveracity of Father Garnet, we may reject it as a calumny for that same distinguished personage declared in his official report that Garnet, when on the scaffold, admitted his complicity in the crime, whereas this was flatly denied by those who were present at the execution. If Coke could lie about one thing, he could lie about another. But in any case a criminal court is not a confessional, and the worst offender can plead "not guilty" without violating the truth. Garnet was executed on March 3, 1606, but his body was not quartered until life had left it.

Gerard, who had been proscribed, but who was perfectly innocent of any knowledge of the conspiracy, had made haste to leave the country. It was a difficult thing to do but he finally succeeded, and at the very time that Garnet was standing on the scaffold, Gerard was leaving London as a footman in the train of the Spanish ambassador. A lay-brother was with him in some other capacity. Such was his farewell to his native country. He had been sent there as a missionary in 1588, and had stepped ashore on the Norfolk coast just after the defeat of the Armada – a time when everyone was hunting for Papists. The story of the adventure of this handsome, courtly gentleman, who had three or four languages at his disposal, who was a keen sportsman, a skilful horseman, and a polished man of the world, and was at ease in the highest society, yet who was always preaching the Gospel wherever he went, in prisons and even on the rack, forms one of the most attractive pages in the records of the English mission. He died in Rome at the age of seventy-three.