A Short History of the Papacy

c. 1760 – 1850

Nigel Cave

Introduction

The first part of this essay is designed to be a brief résumé of the Papacy and the trends of intellectual thought directly concerning it before the main period under discussion.

The Council of Trent in the mid sixteenth century has often been condemned for being the cause of stagnation in the Church, which is obviously ludicrous if one thinks about it. Trent was the Church’s response to the Protestant reformers of the first half of the century, most notably to Calvin, who was a far more coherent thinker than Luther (Melancthon was the great Lutheran organiser and theologian, though undoubtedly Luther provided the original impetus). Since there was now something specific to reply to, Trent tackled those doctrinal issues in dispute, amongst other matters debated. It also carried out significant reform. The fact that there was no Council for another three hundred years is hardly the fault of the Fathers at Trent (after all, the Lateran Council had only been thirty or so years earlier). However, it is true that the Council was ended by the connivance of the Popes (worried about a re-emergence of the Conciliar Movement) and the great Princes. The fact was that the Popes were pretty helpless about imposing the decrees of the Council; this was very much at the whim of the secular authorities: for example the reform decrees of Trent were not (almost) fully adopted in France for almost 150 years after the Council ended.

The reality of religion in Western Europe at the time (and in their colonies) was that the State was what determined the institutional operation of the Church within its dominions, unless it happened to be weak – such as in Poland. Catholic rulers had almost as much authority over the Church as their Protestant counterparts, and this particularly applied to the appointment to the major benefices, such as bishoprics and abbeys. (Louis XVIth is said to have replied when a particularly disreputable man was suggested for the Archbishopric of Paris that he ‘ought at least to believe in God’!) The higher reaches of the Church were riddled with abuses, more the fault of the state (which had the effective authority) than the Church. To this it could be retorted that the Papacy connived in this arrangement with the series of Concordats that it signed with secular princes. The great flaw in these treaties was that they were dependent on being observed by both parties, which they rarely were for more than a limited period. In addition, almost by definition, they were compromises, and the Papacy was rarely in a position to do much more than protest when the clauses of a Concordat were not followed.

To oversimplify, the interests of the states and the interest of some clerics in a Conciliar Church soon provided a range of ‘isms’ that dominate from the middle sixteenth century through to our own times. The main ones are as follows; be aware that the definitions are extracted in large measure from the vigorously orthodox Catholic Encyclopeadia by Robert Brodrick, published in 1976.

Erastianism

This is the common name given to the theory that the state has supremacy over the Church in ecclesiastical affairs. The name comes from a Swiss writer, Thomas Erastus (1524 – 1583) who first proposed the theory in Church-State relations. The theory was already a practicality in parts of Germany and to an extent in Henrician (ie Henry VIII) England, but was now articulated in philosophical and theological terms. It was of course useful for all rulers who sought to exercise control over the Church and was an updated version of the secular ruler’s side of the argument in the Investiture Conflict of the High Middle Ages. Erastus did argue that officials should consult Church scholars etc, but this was mere decoration. It is worth noting that whilst the theory was acceptable to Lutheranism (a more coherent expression, in many ways, of Luther’s view of Church government) it was fiercely opposed by both the Papacy and Calvin.

Jansenism

The originator of this term was Cornelius Jansen, the Bishop of Ypres. In 1640 his book Augustinus was published posthumously. Put extremely simply the teachings in it were based on the denial of man’s ability to resist temptation and the rejection of the doctrine that Christ died for all men. Innocent X condemned it in 1654. Later the followers of Jansenism practised austerities and argued that only people with perfect contrition could receive Confession and Holy Communion. It was a harsh and inflexible teaching which seemed contrary to the understanding of actual grace and the freedom of the individual. Its most common symbol was the crucifix with the hands stretched out vertically above the head. The movement was in particular strong in France and the Netherlands and Germany; and its influence is still evident in rigoristic moral teachings. It led to some degree to Quietism, which was especially popular at the court of Louis XIV at the tail end of the seventeenth century. This argued that the Christian spiritual ideal of perfection lay in the complete passivity of the soul: Let God act. The minimum of personal action on the part of the individual becomes the ideal of sanctity. The error lay in the thought that a continuous act of love being made or attained does away with other acts of virtue. Quietism was condemned by the Pope in 1687. Despite its condemnation, Jansenism remained a significant force throughout the eighteenth century, particularly in France.

Gallicanism

This term refers to the teachings in a work The Gallican Liberties (1682), and has its origins in France. Again, it is a more modern version of the secular side of the argument which raged in the Middle Ages. Essentially Gallicanism was an attack on the Temporal Power of the Papacy. It sought the supremacy of ecumenical councils over the authority of the Pope; an independent position for the Gallican churches; and restriction of the Pope’s authority on matters of faith. It was condemned by Alexander VIII in 1690. It has now become a shorthand term for any case where a national church claims authority at the expense of the Holy See.

The Enlightenment and the Encyclopaedists

The first term is often expressed in terms of The Age of the Enlightenment. It relates more or less to the last years of the seventeenth and the bulk of the eighteenth centuries and is also known as the Age of Reason. Like all movements it is easy to look at the extreme viewpoint, but these people were often extremely influential. From this viewpoint the intellectual world placed new emphasis upon humanism (not to be confused with all the modern connotations of that word). The moral and social sciences had the same exactness as were to be found in the natural laws of the physical sciences. People then tried to rationalise concerning religion, ethics and the natural law. This often led to secularism and a mode of thinking that dismissed revealed religion as outmoded and an obstacle to social development. Thus human reason was the arbiter of the nature of religion, social sciences and political and economic life. Deism and atheism became the ‘natural’ course and replaced revelation and Christian concepts.

The Encyclopaedists were a group of intellectuals who wrote articles for the French Encyclopedie (1751 – 1765); chief among the contributors were Voltaire († 1778), Rousseau († 1778) and Diderot († 1784). Whether intended or not, they introduced a trend of infidelity to the Church and certainly prepared the thinking on irreligion that dominated the French Revolution. A number denied the divinity of Christ (though Voltaire had a chapel built on his estate so that he could attend his Easter duties) and some reduced religion to a highly individualistic concern between the person and God. They denied the teaching of the Church on Original Sin and praised material progress and scientific method.

Febronism/Febronianism

This theory appeared in 1763; Febronius was the pen name of a canon lawyer and an auxiliary bishop in Trier, John von Hontheim. Initially the work argued in favour of the authority of Bishops in their own diocese, who would only refer to Rome on important matters, and in any case the Pope would be subject to a General Council. He then extended this Episcopal authority to the state or ruler. Eventually he was identified and summoned to Rome where he somewhat reluctantly recanted, but continued to correspond with those who used his theories in Austria. In the end, and on his deathbed, he reconciled himself to the Church.

Josephism/Josephinianism

This was a compilation of a number of the above theories (in particular Febronianism), which arrived at the conclusion that the State was supreme in all matters concerning the internal and external affairs of the Church. The Emperor Joseph I forbade bishops to appeal to Rome, abolished all legal appeals to the Holy See, removed the authority of the church in, for example marriage, and suppressed all religious houses which were considered to be socially useless – ie mainly monastic houses. Some, like the great abbey at Melk, survived by becoming centres of scholarship. He closed about 700 houses; to be fair, the money he thereby gained was used, by and large, far more effectively and charitably than by, say, Henry VIII! He organised a committee to regulate public worship and limited the number of religious permitted to live in Austria to 3,750 [this did not apply to his kingdoms outside of Austria, though a similar policy, to varying degrees, was implemented throughout the Empire]. Towards the end of the reign (1790) he attempted to reverse significant elements of this policy, but it was all too late.

Ultramontanism (Ultramontinism)

This word first came into use in the seventeenth century and the nuances of its meaning have varied over the decades. It broadly covers the movement within the Church that stresses papal authority over episcopal jurisdictions. It was the antithesis of the Gallican movement which would at its extreme set up independent national churches almost entirely independent of Rome (a possible analogy would be the role of the Queen in the Commonwealth). During the period under discussion ultramontanism was of particular relevance as the spiritual authority of the Popes was enhanced and there was a tendency for the Church to be disestablished. From the middle of the nineteenth century the term came to be associated with those in favour of Papal Infallibility.

As a general comment, I would point out that the interpretation by people of what these ‘isms’ mean can be rather subjective and the ideal is to read the relevant works yourselves. Bonne chance!

The early eighteenth century Popes

Although some of this might not appear directly relevant, a short survey of the Popes in this century helps to show how things changed so dramatically in the period 1790 – 1820. Rosmini’s background was in this earlier phase, although of course he lived through the transformation: it might be self-evident to us now but was not then, when at one time it looked a serious possibility that institutional Roman Catholicism might be on the verge of destruction in the cataclysmic events of the Terror and subsequently.

These eighteenth century Popes are:

Clement XI, 1700-1721
Innocent XIII, 1721 – 1724
Benedict XIII, 1724 – 1730
Clement XII, 1730 – 1740
Benedict XIV, 1740 – 1758
Clement XIII, 1758 – 1769
Clement XIV, 1769 – 1774

In all the conclaves it is important to remember that France, Spain and the Holy Roman Emperor effectively exercised vetoes on the election of men of whom they strongly disapproved. It was a consideration that the College had to bear in mind up to and including the election of Pius X (when a favoured candidate amongst the Cardinals was effectively disbarred by the opposition of the Emperor of Austria) less than a hundred years ago: though the Pope felt strong enough then to abolish this power. Not all the Popes above feature in the following section.

The long pontificate of Clement XI witnessed the shattering of the political power of the papacy in many respects: Italy became a battleground once more in the War of the Spanish Succession, and the Pope was unwillingly forced to make concessions to a range of monarchs. On the spiritual side he worked hard on relations with the Eastern church; and was an enlightened ruler. Amongst other areas, he was a pioneer in prison reform, building a new prison (St Michael’s) which was for young males only, who had separate cells at night and ran on the novel principle that punishment must be directed towards reformation of the individual. Benedict XIII, a Dominican, genuinely did not want the job. He was seventy five and had been a (model) bishop for fifty years and a Cardinal for longer. So far as possible he wanted to keep the Papacy out of political conflicts, from a perspective of principle rather than weakness. Unfortunately, his chief advisor, Cardinal Coscia, ‘set a shocking example of venality and vice’ – something which was obvious to everyone except the rather naive Pope. Benedict spent hardly anything on himself. In church matters he helped to bring the Melkite patriarchy back to unity with Rome. Clement XII was only elected after a conclave of four months during which time the opposition of the Emperor had to be overcome. He was seventy eight when he was elected; two years later he went blind and after a few months he was also confined to bed. Yet he was very active: JP II could go on for years! He built a woman’s prison on similar lines to that of St Michael’s and engaged in considerable public works in Rome (eg the west front of St John’s Lateran) and spent vast sums from his own patrimony on, for example, famine relief in Rome in 1735. He had considerable problems with various princes – for example Philip V of Spain. The Venetian Ambassador was moved to comment:

There was something unnatural in the sight of all the Catholic sovereigns taking up an attitude of hostility towards the court of Rome … they are going fast towards depriving the Holy See of all its temporal prerogatives.’

He worked to enrich the Vatican libraries with sources from the Eastern Church, continued the work of his predecessors with the Greek Orthodox in general and is best remembered for the spread of the custom of the stations of the cross in churches, fixing the number at fourteen. Benedict XIV was an outstanding Pope. He was 65 and Archbishop of Bologna; an influential historian and canonist and left writings that are of importance even today. He is also notable for a good sense of humour and of the ridiculous, not a particularly common trait amongst any rulers or politicians. He was an astute political operator, making the most of what was a generally rather weak position. He earned admiration from all sorts of unlikely sources: the Sultan of Turkey thought him outstanding. [Neither here nor there, but interesting anyway. In Istanbul there is a memorial to a later Benedict, the XVth, for his work in safeguarding the interests of all prisoners of war.] Voltaire rated him intellectually, describing him as Head of the True Faith. Some years before Benedict’s death, Voltaire wrote his epitaph:

Lambertini [his name was Prosper Lambertini], the pride of Rome and the father of the world, who taught mankind by his writings and honoured it by his virtues.

He dealt with matters in the Orthodox Church and forbade Latin priests to encourage Orientals to leave their own rite. His encyclical Allatae sunt stated: We desire most intensely that all should be Catholics but not that all should be Latins. He regularised the canonisation process and standardised canon law within the dioceses. He officially made St George Patron of England. He approved new congregations such as the Passionists and Redemptorists, founded the Vatican Museum and appointed a woman as Professor of Mathematics in Bologna University, a first by decades over any other European state. Horace Walpole wrote of him, a man whom neither wit nor power could spoil. The Pontificate of Clement XIII was very troubled. He was 65 when he came to the throne; a sound administrator and a conscientious man, combated both the Encyoplaedists and the Gallican bishops in France and established the Feast of the Sacred Heart. He made the last Stuart (‘Henry IX’), Henry, a Cardinal. [This latter was a very effective Bishop of Frascati. During the turbulent times following the French invasions, George III made him a pensioner and George IV erected a statue to him in Frascati.] He is best remembered for the real problems he faced with secular rulers over the Jesuits. Just before he died he was faced with demands from Portugal, Spain, France and Naples for the complete suppression of the SJs; many of the rulers of these countries had already suppressed them in their own territories, and the Papal States were awash with literally thousands of Jesuits. A consistory was summoned to deal with the matter, but the evening before it was due to meet the Pope died from a stroke. The conclave that followed was long and tortuous, lasting three months and resulted in the election of Clement XIV. Rulers further bullied him and he faced the threat of schism in France and Spain. Austria withdrew its support; so he determined on the least of all evils, which was an administrative suppression – in other words, although the charges against the Jesuits were listed, the Holy See made no judgement on them. Fortunately for the Jesuits, Catherine the Great of Russia refused to allow the brief of suppression, and so they maintained a line of continuity in Russia. Perhaps the one bright point in the reign was the First Roman Catholic Relief Act in England in 1778; this provoked the Gordon Riots (1780), an orgy of anti-Catholic looting and rioting. In the face of timid ministers, it was George III who personally ordered the riots to be suppressed and it was due to this action that Bishop Challenor ordered that prayers be said at all masses for the Royal Family.