The Jesuits and the Thirty Years War: Kings, Courts, and Confessors.
Byrne, Joseph P.
The Jesuits and the Thirty Years War: Kings, Courts, and
Confessors. By Robert Bireley, S.J. New York: Cambridge University
Press, 2003. xii + 300 pp. $65.00 cloth.
Robert Bireley, a Jesuit and historian at Loyola University in
Chicago, has crafted a fine study of the activities and fates of the
Jesuit confessors at the major Catholic courts of Europe--Vienna,
Munich, Paris, and Madrid--during the Thirty Years War (1618-48). He was
well prepared for the task by his work on two previous monographs:
Maximilian von Bayern, Adam Contzen, S.J., und die Gegenreformation in
Deutschland, 1624-1635, Schriftenreihe der Historischen Kommission bei
der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and
Ruprecht, 1975), and Religion and Politics in the Age of
Counterreformation (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press,
1981). The result is a straightforward narrative that divides the era
into seven periods and deals with each court and its ruler's
confessor in turn (in the case of Spain the prime minister's
confessor, since the king did not employ a Jesuit). The centralized
nature of the Society of Jesus also requires another key player for such
a study: the superior general resident in Rome. Bireley's principal
source is the correspondence between the generals and the various
confessors, but he brings to bear a wide familiarity with the era's
other archival remains as well. This allows him to posit three major
questions, the answers to which emerge from his narrative: (1) What
effects did the Jesuit confessors have on the policies of the courts and
the conduct of the war? (2) Was there a specifically "Jesuit"
position and policy regarding the war and Catholic aims? and (3) What
principles guided the superior generals in their dealings with the
confessors and the courts? The book opens by "setting the
scene" regarding some of the main issues that led to the war, the
position and general expectations of a court confessor from the
ruler's perspective, and the same from the Society's
perspective. In 1602, superior general Claudio Acquaviva issued
Instructions for Confessors of Princes, which outlined the acceptable
boundaries of social and political involvement of the man responsible
for the ruler's conscience and soul. This proved a fitting and
useful guide and touchstone for successive superiors general.
Nonetheless, as someone once remarked, all plans become irrelevant once
the shooting starts.
The period of the war only saw two men hold the position of top
Jesuit, Muzio Vitelleschi (1615-45), the first non-Spanish superior
general, and Vincenzo Carafa (1646-49) of the Neapolitan Carafas.
Needless to say, Vitelleschi's letters and policies take center
stage, especially in answering questions two and three. Bireley finds
that he imposed no specifically Jesuit spin in his advice and direction;
rather that he pursued a generically Catholic course that accepted the
linkage between the pursuit of political and religious goals. As the war
progressed--or perhaps devolved--the Catholic powers found that on the
national and military levels the linkage grew increasingly weak.
Catholic defeats, the defection of the French, the Peace of Prague (1635), and general war weariness blunted the tip of the confessional
spear. The roles of Vitelleschi and Carafa were key in maintaining the
orthodox, Jesuit hand on the consciences of the Catholic rulers, and
they were played out against a complex landscape. They had the popes
ruling above them, with their support and suspicions, and responsibility
for the good of the whole Society. One aspect of this was the almost
utter reliance on the good will of the secular rulers for Jesuit success
and even presence within their kingdoms. A whiff of conspiracy or a
major misstep by one of their men could send the Society packing.
The confessors in many ways had their fates in their own hands as
they were the men in the trenches. They too played on a dangerous field,
amid court intrigue, rival clerics, and spiritual sons whose demands for
advice or counsel chafed against Acquaviva's Instructions and the
Generals' directions. Jean Suffren, for example, had long been
Marie de'Medici's confessor and served King Louis XIII as
well. They shared him with Richelieu during his rise to power, but the
wily cardinal knew he had to separate the couple, and this meant
disentangling their relationship with Suffren. The Jesuit, against
Vitelleschi's advice, remained with the queen and fell from grace
at court in 1631. Given both his earlier work and the huge cache of
surviving letters, it is natural that Bireley would concentrate a good
deal of attention on William Lamormaini, the Spaniard who replaced
Martin Becan at the Imperial court (1624-35), and the scholarly Adam
Contzen, his exact contemporary at the court of Maximilian of Bavaria.
Yet Bireley manages to balance his coverage in such a way that the
reader sees the full picture.
Bireley's efforts have resulted in a clearly articulated view
of relationships and activities that have generally been backgrounded in
studies of the period. His integration of the four courts in each
chapter allows for synchronic comparison among nicely articulated
studies of each court and its personalities. The touchstones of
Vitelleschi and Carafa and the war itself provide coherence and unity
that Bireley deftly uses to his best advantage. While never a direct
player in the great conflicts that made up the war, the Society was a
force behind the scenes, especially at Munich and Vienna. Yet, as
Bireley makes clear, the confessors' successes and failures were
more a function of their individual characters, agendas, and choices as
of their "Jesuitness." As vulnerable as they were influential,
the Jesuit confessors and the Society of which they were a part
constituted no grand conspiracy, possessed no grand scheme to dominate
the Catholic world. This work, which is as much a political study as a
religious one, assumes a good deal of knowledge about the period. Even
so, Bireley provides enough background--and some repetition--to support
the nonspecialist without annoying the student of the period: never an
easy task.
Joseph P. Byrne
Belmont University