CHAPTER LXII.

CHAPTER LXII.

DEPUTATION OF TWO PRIESTS SENT BY THE PEOPLE AND THE BISHOPS OF CANADA TO PERSUADE US TO SUBMIT TO THE WILL OF THE BISHOP—THE DEPUTIES ACKNOWLEDGE PUBLICLY THAT THE BISHOP IS WRONG AND THAT WE ARE RIGHT—FOR PEACE SAKE, I CONSENT TO WITHDRAW FROM THE CONTEST ON CERTAIN CONDITIONS ACCEPTED BY THE DEPUTIES—ONE OF THOSE DEPUTIES TURNS FALSE TO HIS PROMISES AND BETRAYS US, TO BE PUT AT THE HEAD OF MY COLONY—MY LAST INTERVIEW WITH HIM AND MR. BRASSARD.

When alone, on my knees, in the presence of God, on the 1st of January, 1855, I took the resolution of opposing the acts of simony and tyranny of Bishop O’Regan, I was far from understanding the logical consequences of my struggle with that high dignitary. My only object was to force him to be honest, just and Christian towards my people. That people, with me, had left their country and had bid an eternal adieu to all that was dear to them in Canada, in order to live in peace in Illinois, under what we, then, considered the holy authority of the Church of Christ. But we were absolutely unwilling to be slaves of any man, in the land of Liberty.

If any one, at that hour, could have shown me that this struggle would lead me to a complete separation from the Church of Rome, I would have shrank from the task. My only ambition was to purify my church from the abuses which, one after the other, had crept everywhere about her, as noxious weeds. I felt that those abuses were destroying the precious truths which Jesus Christ and his apostles have revealed to us. It seemed to me that was a duty imposed upon every priest to do all in his power to blot from the face of our church the scandals which were the fruits of the iniquities and tyranny of the bishops. I had most sincerely offered myself to God for this work.

From the beginning, however, I had a presentiment that the power of the bishops would be too much for me, and that, sooner or later, they would crush me. But my hope was that when I should have fallen, others would take my place and fight the battles of the Lord, till a final victory would bring the church back to the blessed days when she was the spotless spouse of the Lamb.

The great and providential victory I had gained at Urbana, had strengthened my conviction that God was on my side, and that he would protect me, so long as my only motives were in the interest of truth and righteousness. It seemed, in a word, that I could not fail so long as I should fight against the official lies, tyrannies, superstitions and deceits which the bishops had everywhere in the United States and Canada, substituted in the place of the Gospel, the primitive laws of the church, and the teachings of the holy fathers.

In the autumn of 1856, our struggle against the Bishop of Chicago had taken proportions which could not have been anticipated either by me or by the Roman Catholic hierarchy of America. The whole press of the United States and Canada, both political and religious, were discussing the causes and the probable results of the contest.

At first, the bishops were indignant at the conduct of my lord O’Regan. They had seen with pleasure, that a priest from his own diocese would probably force him to be more cautious and less scandalous in his public and private dealings with the clergy and the people. But, they also hoped that I should be paralyzed by the sentence of excommunication, and that the people, frightened by these fulminations, would withdraw the support they had, at first, given me. They were assured by Spink, that I would lose my suit, at Urbana, and should, when lodged in the penitentiary, become powerless to do any mischief in the church.

But their confidence was soon changed into dismay when they saw that the people laughed at the excommunication; that I had gained my suit, and that I was triumphing on that very battle-field from which no priest, since Luther and Knox, had come out unscathed. Everywhere, the sound of alarm was heard, and I was denounced as a rebel and schismatic. The whole body of the bishops prepared to hurl their most terrible fulminations at my devoted head. But before taking their last measure to crush me, a supreme effort was made to show us what they considered our errors. The Rev. Messrs. Brassard, curate of Longueuil, and Rev. Isaac Desaulnier, President of St. Hyacinthe college, were sent by the people and bishops of Canada to show me what they called the scandal of my proceedings, and press me to submit to the will of the bishop, by respecting the so-called sentence of excommunication.

The choice of those two priests was very wise. They were certainly the most influential that could be sent. Mr. Brassard had not only been my teacher at the college of Nicolet, but my benefactor, as I have already said. When the want of means, in 1825, had forced me to leave the college and bid adieu to my mother and my young brothers, in order to go to a very distant land, in search of a position; he stopped me on the road of exile and brought me back to the college: and along with the Rev. Mr. Leprohon, he paid all my expenses to the end of my studies. He had loved me since, as his own child, and I cherished and respected him as my own father. The other, Mons. I. Desaulnier, had been my class-mate in the college, from 1822 to 1829, and we had been united during the whole of that period, as well as since, by the bonds of the sincerest esteem and friendship! They arrived at St. Anne on November 24th, 1856.

I heard of their coming only a few minutes before their arrival; and nothing can express the joy I felt at the news. The confidence I had in their honesty and friendship, gave me, at once, the hope that they would soon see the justice and holiness of our cause, and they would bravely take our side against our aggressor. But they had very different sentiments. Sincerely believing that I was an unmanageable schismatic, who was creating an awful scandal in the church, they had not only been forbidden by the bishops to sleep in my house, but also have any friendly and Christian communication with me. With no hatred against me, they were yet filled with horror at the thought that I should be so scandalous a priest, and so daring, as to trouble the peace and destroy the unity of the church.

On their way from Canada to St. Anne, they had often been told that I was not the same man as they knew me formerly to be, and that I had become sour and gloomy, abusive, insolent and haughty; that also, I would insult them, and perhaps advise the people to turn them away from my premises, as men who had no business to meddle in our affairs. They were pleasantly disappointed, however, when they saw me running to meet them, as far as I could see them, to press them to my heart, with the most sincere marks of affection and joy. I told them that all the treasures of California brought to my house, would not make me half so happy as I was made by their presence.

I, at once, expressed my hope that they were the messengers, sent by God, to bring us peace and put an end to the deplorable state of things which was the cause of their long journey. Remarking that they were covered with mud, I invited them to go to their sleeping rooms, to wash and refresh themselves.

“Sleeping rooms! sleeping rooms!!” said Mr. Desaulnier, “but our written instructions from the bishops who sent us, forbid us to sleep here, on account of your excommunication.”

Mr. Brassard answered: “I must tell you, my dear Mr. Desaulnier, a thing which I have kept secret till now. After reading that prohibition of sleeping here, I said to the bishop that if he would put such a restraint upon me, he might choose another one to come here. I requested him to let us both act according to our conscience and common sense, when we should be with Chiniquy.

“And, to-day, my conscience and common sense tells me that we cannot begin our mission of peace by insulting a man who gives us such a friendly and Christian reception. The people of Canada have chosen us as their deputies, because we are the most sincere friends of Chiniquy. It is by keeping that character that we will best fulfill our sacred and solemn duties. I accept with pleasure, the sleeping room offered me.”

Mr. Desaulnier rejoined: “I accept it also, for I did not come here to insult my best friend, but to save him.”

These kind words of my guests added to the joy I experienced at their coming. I told them:

“If you are here to obey the voice of your conscience and the dictates of your common sense, there is a glorious task before you. You will soon find that the people and priest of St. Anne, have also done nothing, but listened to the voice of their honest conscience, and followed the laws of common sense in their conduct towards the bishop. But,” I added, “this is not the time to explain my position, but the time to wash your dusty faces and refresh yourselves. Here are your rooms, make yourselves at home.”

After supper, which had been spent in the most pleasant way, and without any allusion to our troubles, they handed me the letters addressed to me by the bishops of Montreal, London and Toronto, to induce me to submit to my superior, and offer me the assurance of their most sincere friendship and devotedness, if I would obey.

Mr. Desaulnier then said: “Now, my dear Chiniquy, we have been sent here by the people and bishops of Canada to take you away from the bottomless abyss into which you have fallen with your people. We have only one day and two nights to spend here, we must lose no time, but begin at once, to fulfill our solemn mission.”

I answered: “If I have fallen into a bottomless abyss as you say, and that you will draw me out of it, not only God and men will bless you; but I will also forever bless you for your charity. The first thing, however, you have to do here, is to see if I am really fallen, with my people, into that bottomless abyss of which you speak.”

“But are you not excommunicated,” quickly rejoined Mr. Desaulnier, “and, notwithstanding that excommunication, have you not continued to say your mass, preach and hear the confessions of your people? Are you not then fallen into that state of irregularity and schism which separate you entirely from the church, and to which the Pope alone can restore you?”

“No, my dear Desaulnier,” I answered, “I am no more excommunicated than you are. For the simple reason that an act of excommunication which is not signed and certified, is a public nullity, unworthy of any attention. Here is the act of the so-called excommunication, which makes so much noise in the world! Examine it yourself; look if it is signed by the bishop, or any one else you know; consider with attention if it is certified by anybody.” And I handed him the document.

After he had examined it, and turned it every way, for more than half an hour, with Mr. Brassard, without saying a word, he at last broke the silence, and said:

“If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I could never have believed that a bishop can play such a sacrilegious comedy in the face of the world. You have, several times, published it in the press, but I confess that your best friends, and I among the rest, did not believe you. It could not enter our minds that a bishop should be so devoid, I do not say of every principle of religion, but of the most common honesty, as to have proclaimed before the whole world that you were excommunicated, when he had to offer us only that ridiculous piece of rag, to support his assertion. But, in the name of common sense, why is it that he has not signed his sentence of excommunication, or got it signed and countersigned by some authorized people, when it is so evident that he wanted to excommunicate you?”

“His reason for not putting his name, nor the name of any known person at the bottom of that so-called excommunication is very clear,” I answered: “though our bishop is one of the most accomplished rogues of Illinois, he is still more a coward than a rogue. I had threatened to bring him before the civil court of the country, if he dared to destroy my character by a sentence of interdict or excommunication; and he found that the only way to save himself, in the same time that he was outraging me, was not to sign that paper; he thereby took away from me the power of prosecuting him. For, the first thing I would have to do in a prosecution, in that case, would be to prove the signature of the bishop. Where could I find a witness who would swear that this is his signature? Would you swear it yourself, my dear Desaulnier?”

“Oh! no, for surely, it is not his signature, nor that of his grand vicar or secretary. But without going any further,” added he, “we must confess to you that we have talked to the bishop when passing through Chicago, asking him if he had made any public or private inquest against you, and if he had found you guilty of any crime. As he felt embarrassed by our questions, we told him that it was in our public character as deputies of the bishops and people of Canada towards you, that we were putting to him those questions. That it was necessary for us to know all about your public and private character, when we were coming to press you to reconcile yourself to your bishop.

“He answered that he had never made any inquest about you, though you had requested him, several times, to do it, for the simple reason that he was persuaded that you were one of his best priests. Your only defect, he said, was a spirit of stubbornness, and want of respect and obedience to your superior, and your meddling with the dealings of his diocesans, with which you had no business. He told us also that you refused to go to Kahokia. But his face became so red and his tongue was so strangely lisping when he said that, that I suspected that it was a falsehood; and we have now, before our eyes, that document, signed by four unimpeachable witnesses, that it was more than a falsehood—it was a lie. He proffered another lie, also, we see it now, when he said that he had signed himself, the act of excommunication.

“For, surely, this is not his handwriting. Such conduct from a bishop is very strange. If you would appeal to the Pope, and go to Rome with such documents in hand against that bishop, you would have an easy victory over him. For the canons of the church are clear and unanimous on that subject. A bishop who pronounces such a grave sentence against a priest, and makes use of false signatures to certify his sentences, is himself suspended and excommunicated, _ipso facto_, for a whole year.”

Mr. Brassard added: “Cannot we confess to Chiniquy that the opinion of the bishops of Canada is, that Bishop O’Regan is a perfect rogue, and that if he (Chiniquy) would submit, at once, under protest, to those unjust sentences, and appeal to the Pope, he would gain his cause, and soon be reinstated by a public decree of his holiness.”

Our discussion about the troubles I had had; and the best way to put an end to them, having kept us up till three o’clock in the morning without being able to come to any satisfactory issue, we adjourned to the next day, and went to take some rest, after a short prayer.

The 25th of November, at 10 A. M., after breakfast and a short walk in our public square, to breathe the pure air and enjoy the fine scenery of our beautiful hill of St. Anne, we shut ourselves up in my study, and resumed the discussion of the best plans of putting an end to the existing difficulties.

To show them my sincere desire of stopping those noisy and scandalous struggles without compromising the sacred principles which had guided me from the beginning of our troubles, I consented to sacrifice my position as pastor of St. Anne, provided Mr. Brassard would be installed in my place. It was decided, however, that I should remain with him, as his vicar, and help in the management of the spiritual and temporal affairs of the colony. The promise was given me that on that condition, the bishop would withdraw his so-called sentence, give back to the French-Canadians of Chicago the church he had taken away from them, put a French-speaking priest at the head of the congregation, and forget and forgive what he might consider our irregular conduct towards him, after we should have signed the following document:

TO HIS LORDSHIP O'REGAN, BISHOP OF CHICAGO.

MY LORD:—As my writings and actions in opposition to your orders have, since a few months, given some scandals, and caused some people to think that I would rather prefer to be separated from our holy church, than to submit to your authority, I hasten to express the regret I feel for such acts and writings. And to show to the world, and to you, my bishop, my firm desire to live and die a Catholic, I hasten to write to your lordship that I submit to your sentence, and that I promise, hereafter, to exercise the holy ministry only with your permission. In consequence, I respectfully request your lordship to withdraw the censures and interdicts you have pronounced against me and those who have had any spiritual communication with me. I am, my lord, your devoted son in Christ.