Death and burial
The last months of Clement XIV's life were embittered by his failures and he seemed always to be in sorrow because of this. His work was hardly accomplished before Clement XIV, whose usual constitution was quite vigorous, fell into a languishing sickness, generally attributed to poison. No conclusive evidence of poisoning was ever produced. The claims that the Pope was poisoned were denied by those closest to him, and as The Annual Register for 1774 stated, he was over 70 and had been in ill health for some time.
On 10 September 1774, he was bedridden and received Extreme Unction on 21 September 1774. It is said that St. Alphonsus Liguori assisted Clement XIV in his last hours by the gift of bilocation and was during two days in extasis in his bishopric in Arienzo.
Clement XIV died on 22 September 1774, execrated by the Ultramontane party but widely mourned by his subjects for his popular administration of the Papal States. When his body was opened for the autopsy, the doctors ascribed his death to scorbutic and hemorrhoidal dispositions of long standing that were aggravated by excessive labour and the habit of provoking artificial perspiration even in the greatest heat. His Neoclassical style tomb was designed and sculpted by Antonio Canova, and it is found in the church of Santi Apostoli, Rome. To this day, he is best remembered for his suppression of the Jesuits.
The Monthly Review spoke highly of Ganganelli. In a review of a "Sketch of the Life and Government of Pope Clement XIV", the 1786 English Review said it was clearly written by an ex-Jesuit and noted the malignant characterization of a man it described as "...a liberal, affable, ingenious man; …a politician enlarged in his views, and equally bold and dexterous in the means, by which he executed his designs."
The 1876 Encyclopædia Britannica says that:
[N]o Pope has better merited the title of a virtuous man, or has given a more perfect example of integrity, unselfishness, and aversion to nepotism. Notwithstanding his monastic education, he proved himself a statesman, a scholar, an amateur of physical science, and an accomplished man of the world. As Pope Leo X (1513–21) indicates the manner in which the Papacy might have been reconciled with the Renaissance had the Reformation never taken place, so Ganganelli exemplifies the type of Pope which the modern world might have learned to accept if the movement towards free thought could, as Voltaire wished, have been confined to the aristocracy of intellect. In both cases the requisite condition was unattainable; neither in the 16th nor in the 18th century has it been practicable to set bounds to the spirit of inquiry otherwise than by fire and sword, and Ganganelli's successors have been driven into assuming a position analogous to that of Popes Paul IV (1555–59) and Pius V (1566–72) in the age of the Reformation. The estrangement between the secular and the spiritual authority which Ganganelli strove to avert is now irreparable, and his pontificate remains an exceptional episode in the general history of the Papacy, and a proof how little the logical sequence of events can be modified by the virtues and abilities of an individual.
Jacques Crétineau-Joly, however, wrote a critical history of the Pope's administration.
