ADDRESS FROM MY PEOPLE, ASKING ME TO REMAIN—ADDRESS OF THE PEOPLE TO THE
BISHOP—I AM AGAIN DRAGGED AS A PRISONER BY THE SHERIFF TO
URBANA—PERJURY OF THE PRIEST LEBELLE—ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S ANXIETY ABOUT
THE ISSUE OF THE PROSECUTION—MY DISTRESS—NIGHT OF DESOLATION—THE
RESCUE—MISS PHILOMENE MOFFAT SENT BY GOD TO SAVE ME—LEBELLE’S
CONFESSION AND DISTRESS—SPINK WITHDRAWS HIS SUIT—MY INNOCENCE
ACKNOWLEDGED—NOBLE WORDS AND CONDUCT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN—THE OATH OF
MISS PHILOMENE MOFFAT.
The Sabbath afternoon after the three drunken priests nailed their
unsigned, unsealed, untestified, and consequently null sentence of
excommunication, to the door of our chapel, the people had gathered from
every part of our colony into the large hall of the court-house of
Kankakee City to hear several addresses on their duties of the day, and
they unanimously passed the following resolution:
“_Resolved._ That we, French Canadians of the County of Kankakee, do
hereby decide to give our moral support to Rev. C. Chiniquy, in the
persecution now exerted against him by the Bishop of Chicago, in
violation of the laws of the church, expressed and sanctioned by the
Councils.”
After this resolution had been voted, Mr. Bechard, who is now one of the
principal members of the parliament of Canada, and who was then a
merchant of Kankakee City, presented to me the following address, which
had also been unanimously voted by the people:
“DEAR AND BELOVED PASTOR:—For several years we have been witnesses of
the persecution of which you are the subject, on the part of the bad
priests, your neighbors, and on the part of the unworthy Bishop of
Chicago; but we also have been the witnesses of your sacerdotal
virtues—of your forbearance of their calumnies—and our respect and
affection for your person has but increased at the sight of those
trials.
“We know that you are persecuted, not only because you are a Canadian
priest, and that you like us, but also because you do us good in making
a sacrifice of your own private fortune to build school-houses and to
feed our teachers at your own table. We know that the Bishop of Chicago,
who resembles more an angry wolf than a pastor of the church, having
destroyed the prosperous congregation of Chicago by taking away from
them their splendid church, which they had built at the cost of many
sacrifices, and giving it to the Irish population, and having
discouraged the worthy population of Bourbonnais Grove in forcing on
them drunken and scandalous priests, wants to take you away from among
us, to please Spink, the greatest enemy of the French population. They
even say that the bishop, carrying iniquity to its extreme bonds, wanted
to interdict you. But as our church cannot, and is not willing to
sanction evil and calumny, we know that all those interdicts, based on
falsehood and spite, are null and void.
“We therefore solicit you not to give way in presence of the perfidious
plots of your enemies, and not to leave us. Stay among us as our pastor
and our father, and we solemnly promise to sustain you in all your
hardships to the end, and to defend you against our enemies. Stay among
us, to instruct us in our duties by your eloquent speeches, and to
enlighten us by your pious examples. Stay among us, to guard us against
the perfidious designs of the Bishop of Chicago, who wants to discourage
and destroy our prosperous colony, as he has already discouraged and
destroyed other congregations of the French Canadians, by leaving them
without a pastor, or by forcing on them unworthy priests.”
The stern and unanimous determination of my countrymen to stand by me in
the impending struggle is one of the greatest blessings which God has
ever given me. It filled me with a courage which nothing could hereafter
shake. But the people of St. Anne did not think that it was enough to
show to the bishop that nothing could ever shake the resolution they had
taken to live and die free men. They gathered in a public and immense
meeting on the Sabbath after the sham excommunication, to _adopt_ the
following address to the Bishop of Chicago, a copy of which was sent to
every Bishop of the United States and Canada, and to Pope Pius IX:
“TO HIS LORDSHIP, ANTHONY O’REGAN OF CHICAGO:—We, the undersigned,
inhabitants of the parish of St. Anne, Beaver settlement, seeing with
sorrow that you have discarded our humble request, which we have sent
you by four delegates, and have persisted in trying to drive away our
honest and worthy priest, who has edified us in all circumstances by his
public and religious conduct, and having, contrary to the rules of our
holy church and common sense, struck our worthy pastor, Mr. Chiniquy,
with excommunication, having caused him to be announced as a schismatic
priest, and having forbidden us to communicate with him in religious
matters, are hereby protesting against the unjust and iniquitous manner
in which you have struck him, refusing him the privilege of justifying
himself and proving his innocence.
“Consequently, we declare that we are ready at all times as good
Catholics, to obey all your orders and ordinances that are in accordance
with the laws of the Gospel and the Church, but that we are not willing
to follow you in all your errors of judgments, in your injustices and
covetous caprices. Telling you, as St. Jerome wrote to his Bishop, that
as long as you will treat us as your children, we will obey you as a
father; but as soon as you will treat us as our master, we shall cease
to consider you as our father. Considering Mr. Chiniquy as a good and
virtuous priest, worthy of the place he occupies, and possessing as yet
all his sacerdotal powers, in spite of your null and ridiculous
sentence, we have unanimously decided to keep him among us as our
pastor; therefore praying your Lordship not to put yourself to the
trouble of seeking another priest for us. More yet: we have unanimously
decided to sustain him and furnish him the means to go as far as Rome,
if he cannot have justice in America.
“We further declare that it has been dishonorable and shameful for our
bishop and for our holy religion to have seen, coming under the walls of
our chapel, bringing the orders of the prince of the church of a
representative of Christ, three men covered with their sacerdotal
garments, having their tongues half paralyzed by the effects of brandy,
and who, turning their backs to the church, went into the house and barn
of one of our settlers and there emptied their bottles. And from there,
taking their seats in their buggies, went towards the settlement of
L’Erable, singing drunken songs and hallooing like wild Indians. Will
your lordship be influenced by such a set of men, who seem to have for
their mission to degrade the sacrados and Catholicism?
“We conclude, in hoping that your lordship will not persist in your
decision, given in a moment of madness and spite; that you will
reconsider your acts, and that you will retract your unjust, null and
ridiculous excommunication, and by these means avoid the scandal of
which your precipitation is the cause. We then hope that, changing your
determination, you will work for the welfare of our holy religion, and
not to its degradation, in which your intolerant conduct would lead us,
and that you will not persist in trying to drive our worthy pastor, Rev.
Charles Chiniquy, from the flourishing colony that he has founded at the
cost of the abandonment of his native land, of the sacrifice of the high
position he had in Canada: that you will bring peace between you and us,
and that we shall have in the Bishop of Chicago not a tyrant, but a
father, and that you will have in us not rebels, but faithful children,
by our virtues and our good example. Subscribing ourselves the obedient
children of the church.
“THEOPILE DORIEN,
“DET. VANIER,
“J. B. BELANGER,
“CAMILE BETOURNEY,
“STAN’LAS GAGNE,
“ANTOINE ALLAIN,
J. B. LEMOINE, N. P.,
OLIVER SENECHALL,
BASILIQUE ALLAIR,
MICHEL ALLAIR,
JOSEPH GRISI,
JOSEPH ALLARD,
“And five hundred others.”
This address, signed by more than five hundred men, all heads of
families, and reproduced by almost the whole press in the United States,
fell as a thunderclap on the head of the heartless destroyer of our
people. But it did not change his destructive plans. It had just the
contrary effect. As a tiger, mortally wounded by the sure shots of the
hunters, he filled the country with his roaring, hoping to frighten us
by his new denunciations. He published the most lying stories to explain
his conduct, and to show the world that he had good reasons for
destroying the French congregation of Chicago, and trying the same
experiment on St. Anne.
In order to refute his false statements, and to show more clearly to the
whole world the reason I had, as a Catholic priest, to resist him, I
addressed the following letter to his lordship:
ST. ANNE, KANKAKEE COUNTY, ILLS.,
September 25, 1856.
“RT. REV’D O’REGAN:—You seem to be surprised that I have offered the
holy sacrifice of mass since our last interview. Here are some of my
reasons for so doing.
“1st. You have not suspended me; far from it, you have given me fifteen
days to consider what I should do, threatening only to interdict me
after that time, if I would not obey your orders.
“2nd. If you have been so ill-advised as to suspend me, for the crime of
telling you that my intention was to live the live of a retired priest
in my little colony, sooner than be exiled at my age, your sentence is
ridiculous and null; and if you were as expert in the _jure Canonico_ as
in the art of pocketing our money, you would know that you are yourself
suspended _ipso facto_ for a year, and that I have nothing to fear or to
expect from you now.
“3rd. When I bowed down before the altar of Jesus Christ, twenty-four
years ago, to receive the priesthood, my intention was to be the
minister of the Catholic Church, but not a slave of a lawless tyrant.
“4th. Remember the famous words of Tertullian, ‘_Nimia potestas, nulla
potestas_.’ For the sake of peace, I have, with many others, tolerated
your despotism till now; but my patience is at an end, and for the sake
of our holy church, which you are destroying, I am determined with many
to oppose an insurmountable wall to your tyranny.
“5th. I did not come here, you know well, as an ordinary missionary; but
I got from your predecessor the permission to form a colony of my
emigrating countrymen. I was not sent here in 1851 to take care of any
congregation. It was a complete wilderness; but I was sent to form a
colony of Catholics. I planted my cross in a wilderness. In a great
part, with my own money, I have built a chapel, a college and a female
academy. I have called from everywhere my countrymen—nine-tenths of them
came here only to live with me, and because I had the pledged word of my
bishop to do that work. And as long as I live the life of a good priest
I deny you the right to forbid me to remain in my colony which wants my
help and my presence.
“6th. You have never shown me your authority (but once) except in the
most tyrannical way. But now, seeing that the more humble I am before
you, the more insolent you grow, I have taken the resolution to stand by
my rights as a Catholic priest and as an American citizen.
“7th. You remember, that in our second interview you forbade me to have
the good preceptors we have now for our children, and you turned into
ridicule the idea I had to call them from Canada. Was that the act of a
bishop or of a mean despot?
“8th. A few days after you ordered me to live on good terms with R. R.
LeBelle and Carthavel, though you were well acquainted with their
scandalous lives, and twice you threatened me with suspension for
refusing to become a friend of those two rogues! And you have so much
made a fool of yourself before the four gentlemen I sent to you to be
the witnesses of your iniquity and my innocence, that you have
acknowledged before them that one of your principal reasons for turning
me out of my colony was, that I had not been able to keep peace with
three priests whom you acknowledged to be depraved and unworthy priests!
Is not that surpassing wickedness and tyranny of anything recorded in
the blackest pages of the most daring tyrants? You want to punish by
exile a gentleman and a good priest, because he cannot agree to become
the friend of two public rogues! I thank you, Bishop O’Regan, to have
made that public confession in the presence of unimpeachable witnesses.
I do not want to advise you to be hereafter very prudent in what you
intend to do against the reputation and character of the priest of St.
Anne. If you continue to denounce me as you have done since a few weeks,
and to tell the people what you think fit against me, I have awful
things to publish of your injustice and tyranny.
“As Judas sold our Saviour to his enemies, so you have sold me to my
enemy of L’Erable. But be certain that you shall not deliver up your
victim as you like.
“For withdrawing a suit which you have incited against my honor and
which you shall certainly lose, you drag me out from my home and order
me to the land of exile, and you cover that iniquity with the appearance
of zeal for the public peace, just as Pilate delivered his victim into
the hands of their enemies to make peace with them.
“Shame on you, Bishop O’Regan! For the sake of God, do not oblige me to
reveal to the world what I know against you. Do not oblige me, in
self-defence, to strike, in you, my merciless persecutor. If you have no
pity for me, have pity on yourself, and on the church which that coming
struggle will so much injure.
“It is not enough for you to have so badly treated my poor countrymen of
Chicago—your hatred against the French Canadians cannot be satisfied
except when you have taken away from them the only consolation they have
in this land of exile—to possess in their midst a priest of their own
nation whom they love and respect as a father! My poor countrymen of
Chicago, with many hard sacrifices, had built a fine church for
themselves and a house for their priest. _You have taken their church
from their hands and given it to the Irish_; you have sold the house of
their priests, after turning him out; and what have you done with the
$1,500 you got as its price? Public rumor says that you are employing
that money to support the most unjust and infamous suit against one of
their priests. Continue a little longer, and you may be sure that the
cursing of my poor countrymen against you will be heard in heaven and
that the God of Justice will give them an avenger!
“You have, at three different times, threatened to interdict and
excommunicate me if I would not give you my little personal properties!
and as many times you have said in my teeth, that I was a bad priest,
because I refused to act according to your rapacious tyranny!
“The impious Ahab, murdering Naboth to get his fields, is risen from the
dead in your person. You cannot kill my body, _since I am protected by
the glorious flag of the United States_; but you do worse, you try to
destroy my honor and my character, which are dearer to me than my life.
In a moral way you give my blood to be licked by your dogs. But remember
the words of the prophet to Ahab, ‘In this place where the dogs have
licked the blood of Naboth, they shall lick thy blood also.’ For every
false witness you shall bring against me, I shall have a hundred
unimpeachable ones against you. Thousands and thousands of religious
Irish, and generous Germans, and liberty and fair-play-loving French
Canadians, will help me in that struggle. I do not address you these
words as a threat, but as a friendly warning.
“Keep quiet, my lord; do not let yourself be guided by your quick
temper; do not be so free in the use of suspense and interdicts. These
terrible arms are two-edged swords, which very often hurt more the
imprudent who make use of them than those whom they intend to strike.
“I wish to live in peace with you. I take my God to witness, that to
this day I have done everything to keep peace with you. But the peace I
want is the peace which St. Jerome speaks of when, writing to his
bishop, he tells him:
“‘It is no use to speak of peace with the lips, if we destroy it with
our works. It is a very different way to work for peace, from trying to
submit every one to an abject slavery. We, also, want peace. Not only we
desire it, but we implore you instantly to give it. However, the peace
we want is the peace of Christ—a true peace, a peace without hatred, a
peace which is not a masked war, a peace which is not to crush enemies,
but a peace which unites friends.
“‘How can we call that peace which is nothing but tyranny? Why should we
not call everything by its proper name? Let us call hatred—what is
hatred. And let us say that peace reigns only when a true love exists.
We are not the authors of the troubles and divisions which exist in the
church. A father must love his children. A bishop, as well as a father,
must wish to be loved, but not feared. The old proverb says, _One hates
whom he fears_, and we naturally wish for the death of the one we hate.
If you do not try to crush the religious men under your power they will
submit themselves to your authority. Offer them the kiss of love and
peace and they will obey you. But liberty refuses to yield as soon as
you try to crush it down. The best way to be obeyed by a free man is not
to deal with him as with a slave. We know the laws of the church, and we
do not ignore the rights which belong to every man. We have learned many
things, not only from experience, but also from the study of books. The
king who strikes his subjects with an iron rod, or who thinks that his
fingers must be heavier than his father’s hand, has soon destroyed the
kingdom even of the peaceful and mild David. The people of Rome refused
to bear the yoke of their proud king.
“‘We have left our country in order to live in peace. In this solitude
our intention was to respect the authority of the pontiffs of Christ (we
mean those who teach the true faith). We want to respect them not as our
masters, but as our fathers. Our intention was to respect them as
bishops, not as usurpers and tyrants who want to reduce us to slavery by
the abuse of their power. We are not so vain as to ignore what is due to
the priests of Christ, for to receive them is to receive the very one
whose bishops they are. But let them be satisfied with the respect which
is due to them. Let them remember that they are fathers, not masters of
those who have given up everything in order to enjoy the privileges of a
peaceful solitude. May Christ who is our mighty God grant that we should
be united not by a false peace, but by a true and loyal love, lest that
by biting each other we destroy each other.’
[Letter of St. Jerome to his bishop.]
“You have a great opinion of the episcopal power, and so have I. But St.
Paul and all the Holy Fathers that I have read, have also told us many
things of the dignity of the priest (alter Christus Sacerdos). I am your
brother and equal in many things; do not forget it. I know my dignity as
a man and a priest, and I shall sooner lose my life than to surrender
them to any man, even a bishop. If you think you can deal with me as a
carter with his horse, drawing him where he likes, you will soon see
your error.
“I neither drink strong wines nor smoke, and the many hours _that others
spend in emptying their bottles and smoking their pipes_, I read my dear
books—I study the admirable laws of the church and the Gospel of Christ.
I love my books and the holy laws of our church, because they teach me
my rights as well as my duties. They tell me that many years ago a
general council, which is something above you, has annulled your unjust
sentence, and brought upon your head the very penalty you intended to
impose upon me. They tell me that any sentence from you coming (from
your own profession) from bad and criminal motives, is null, and will
fall powerless at my feet.
“But I tell you again, that I desire to live in peace with you. The
false reports of LeBelle and Carthevel have disturbed that peace; but it
is still in your power to have it for yourself and give it to me. I am
sure that the sentence you say you have preferred against me comes from
a misunderstanding, and your wisdom and charity, if you can hear their
voice, can very easily set everything as it was two months ago. It is
still in your power to have a warm friend, or an immovable adversary in
Kankakee County. It would be both equitable and honorable in you to
extinguish the fires of discord which you have so unfortunately
enkindled, by drawing back a sentence which you would never have
preferred if you had not been deceived. You would be blessed by the
Church of Illinois, and particularly by the 10,000 French Canadians who
surround me, and are ready to support me at all hazards.
“Do not be angry from the seeming harsh words which you find in this
letter. Nobody, but I, could tell you these sad truths, though every one
of your priests, and particularly those who flatter you the most, repeat
them every day.
“By kind and honest proceedings you can get everything from me, even the
last drop of my blood; but you will find me an immovable rock if you
approach me as you have already done (but once) with insult and
tyrannical threats.
“You have not been ordained a bishop to rule over us according to your
fancy, but you have the eternal laws of justice and equity to guide you.
You have the laws of the church to obey as well as her humblest child,
and as soon as you do anything against these imperishable laws you are
powerless to obtain your object. It is not only lawful, but a duty to
resist you. When you strike without a legitimate or a canonical cause;
when you try to take away my character to please some of your friends;
when you order me to exile to stop a suit which you are exciting against
me; when you punish me for the crime of refusing to obey the orders you
gave me to be the friend of three public rogues; when you threaten me
with excommunication, because I do not give you my little personal
properties, I have nothing to fear from your interdicts and
excommunication.
“What a sad lot for me, and what a shame for you, if by your continual
attacks at the door of our churches or in the public press, you oblige
me to expose your injustice. It is yet time for you to avoid that.
Instead of striking me like an outcast, come and give me the paternal
hand of charity, instead of continuing that fratricidal combat, come and
heal the wounds you have made and already received. Instead of insulting
me by driving me away from my colony to the land of exile, come and
bless the great work I have begun here for the glory of God and the good
of my people. Instead of destroying the college and the female academy,
for the erection of which I have expended my last cent, and whose
teachers are fed at my table, come and bless the three hundred little
children who are daily attending our schools.
“Instead of sacrificing me to the hatred of my enemies, come and
strengthen my heart against their fury.
“I tell you again, that no consideration whatever will induce me to
surrender my right as a Catholic priest _and as an American citizen_. By
the first title you cannot interdict me, as long as I am a good priest,
for the crime of wishing to live in my colony and among my people. _By
the second title, you cannot turn me out from my home._
“C. CHINIQUY.”
It was the first time that a Roman Catholic priest, with his whole
people, had dared to speak such language to a Bishop of Rome on this
continent. Never yet had the unbearable tyranny of those haughty men
received such a public rebuke. Our fearless words fell as a bombshell in
the camp of the Roman Catholic hierarchy of America.
With very few exceptions, the press of the State of Illinois, whose
columns had so often echoed the cries of indignation raised everywhere
against the tyranny of Bishop O’Regan, took sides with me. Hundreds of
priests, not only from Illinois, but from every corner of the United
States, addressed their warmest thanks to me for the stand I had taken,
and asked me, in the name of God and for the honor of the church, not to
yield an inch of my rights. Many promised to support us at the court of
Rome, by writing themselves to the Pope, to denounce not only the Bishop
of Illinois, but several others, who, though not so openly bad, were yet
trampling under their feet the most sacred rights of the priests and the
people. Unfortunately those priests gave me a saddening knowledge of
their cowardice by putting in their letters “_absolutely confidential_.”
They all promised to help me when I was storming the strong fortress of
the enemy, provided I would go alone in the gap, and that they would
keep themselves behind thick walls, far from shot and shell.
However, this did not disturb me, for my God knows it, my trust was not
in my own strength, but in his protection. I was sure that I was in the
right, that the Gospel of Christ was on my side, that all the canons and
laws of the councils were in my favor.
My library was filled with the best books on the canons and laws passed
in the great councils of my church. It was written in big letters in the
celebrated work, “_Histoire du droit canonique_.” There is no arbitrary
power in the Church of Christ,—Vol. iii., page 139.
The Council of Augsburg, held in 1548 (Can. 24), had declared that, “no
sentence of excommunication will be passed, except for great crimes.”
The Pope St. Gregory had said: “That censures are null when not
inflicted for great sins or for faults which have not been clearly
proved.”
“An unjust excommunication does not bind before God those against whom
it has been hushed. But it injures only the one who has proffered
it.”—Eccl. Laws, by Hericourt, c. xxii., No. 50.
“If an unjust sentence is pronounced against any one, he must not pay
any attention to it; for, before God and his Church, an unjust sentence
cannot injure anybody. Let, then, that person do nothing to get such an
unjust sentence repealed, for it cannot injure him.”—St. Gelace—The
Pope—(_Canoni bin est._)
The canonists conclude, from all the laws of the church on that matter,
“That if a priest is unjustly interdicted or excommunicated he may
continue to officiate without any fear of becoming irregular.”—Eccl.
Laws, by Hericourt, c. xxii., No. 51.
Protected by these laws, and hundreds of others too long to enumerate,
which my church had passed in every age, strengthened by the voice of my
conscience, which assured me that I had done nothing to deserve to be
interdicted or excommunicated; sure, besides, of the testimony brought
by our four delegates that the bishop himself had declared that I was
one of his best priests, that he wanted to give me my letters to go and
perform the functions of my ministry in Kahokia: above all, knowing the
unanimous will of my people that I should remain with them and continue
the great and good work so providentially trusted to me in my colony,
and regarding this as an indication of the divine will, I determined to
remain, in spite of the Bishop of Chicago. All the councils of my church
were telling me that he had no power to injure me, and that all his
official acts were null.
But if he were spiritually powerless against me, it was not so in
temporal matters. His power and his desire to injure us had increased
with his hatred, since he had read our letters and seen them in all the
papers of Chicago.
The first thing he did was to reconcile himself to the priest LeBelle,
whom he had turned out ignominiously from his diocese some time before.
That priest had since that obtained a fine situation in the diocese of
Michigan. He invited him to his palace, and petted him several days. I
felt that the reconciliation of those two men meant nothing good for me.
But my hope was, more than ever, that the merciful God who had protected
me so many times against them, would save me again from their
machinations. The air was, however, filled with the strangest rumors
against me. It was said everywhere that Mr. LeBelle was to bring such
charges against my character that I would be sent to the penitentiary.
What were the new iniquities to be laid to my charge? No one could tell.
But the few partisans and friends of the bishop, Messrs. LeBelle and
Spink, were jubilant and sure that I was to be forever destroyed.
At last, the time arrived when the Sheriff of Kankakee had to drag me
again as a criminal and a prisoner to Urbana, and deliver me into the
hands of the sheriff of that city. I arrived here on the 20th of
October, with my lawyers, Messrs. Osgood and Paddock, and a dozen
witnesses. Mr. Abraham Lincoln had preceded me only by a few minutes
from Springfield. He was in the company of Judge David Davis, since
Vice-President of the United States, when I met him.
The jury having been selected and sworn, the Rev. Mr. LeBelle was the
first witness called to testify and say what he knew against my
character.
Mr. Lincoln objected to that kind of testimony, and tried to prove that
Mr. Spink had no right to bring his new suit against me by attacking my
character. But Judge Davis ruled that the prosecution had that right in
the case that was before him. Mr. LeBelle had, then, full liberty to say
anything he wanted, and he availed himself of his privilege. His
testimony lasted nearly an hour, and was too long to be given here. I
will only say that he began by declaring that “Chiniquy was one of the
vilest men of the day—that every kind of bad rumors were constantly
circulating against him.” He gave a good number of those rumors, though
he could not positively swear if they were founded on truth or not, for
he had not investigated them. But he said there was one of which he was
sure, for he had authenticated it thoroughly. He expressed a great deal
of apparent regret that he was forced to reveal to the world such things
which were not only against the honor of Chiniquy, but, to some extent,
involved the good name of a dear sister, Madame Bosse. But as he was to
speak the truth before God, he could not help it—the sad truth must be
told. “_Mr. Chiniquy_,” he said, “_had attempted to do the most infamous
things with my own sister, Madame Bosse_. She herself has told me the
whole story under oath, and she would be here to unmask the wicked man
to-day before the whole world, if she were not forced to silence, at
home, from a severe illness.”
Though every word of that story was a perjury, there was such a color of
truth and sincerity in my accuser, that his testimony fell upon me and
my lawyers and all my friends as a thunderbolt. A man who has never
heard such a calumny brought against him before a jury in a court-house
packed with people, composed of friends and foes, will never understand
what I felt in this the darkest hour of my life. My God only knows the
weight and the bitterness of the waves of desolation which then passed
over my soul.
After that testimony was given, there was a lull, and a most profound
silence in the court-room. All the eyes were turned upon me, and I heard
many voices speaking of me, whispering, “The villain!” Those voices
passed through my soul as poisoned arrows. Though innocent, I wished
that the ground would open under my feet and bring me down to the
darkest abysses, to conceal me from the eyes of my friends and the whole
world.
However, Mr. Lincoln soon interrupted the silence by addressing to
LeBelle such cross-questions that his testimony, in the minds of many,
soon lost much of its power. And he did still more destroy the effect of
his (LeBelle’s) false oath, when, he brought my twelve witnesses, who
were among the most respectable citizens of Bourbonnais, formerly the
parishioners of Mr. LeBelle. Those twelve gentlemen swore that Mr.
LeBelle was such a drunkard and vicious man, that he was so publicly my
enemy on account of the many rebukes I had given to his private and
public vices, that they would not believe a word of what he said, even
upon his oath.
At ten P. M., the court was adjourned, to meet again the next morning,
and I went to the room of Mr. Lincoln with my two other lawyers, to
confer about the morning’s work. My mind was unspeakably sad. Life had
never been such a burden to me as in that hour. I was tempted, like Job,
to curse the hour when I was born. I could see in the faces of my
lawyers, though they tried to conceal it, that they were also full of
anxiety.
“My dear Mr. Chiniquy,” said Mr. Lincoln, “though I hope, to-morrow, to
destroy the testimony of Mr. LeBelle against you, I must concede that I
see great dangers ahead. There is not the least doubt in my mind that
every word he has said is a sworn lie; but my fear is that the jury
thinks differently. I am a pretty good judge in these matters. I feel
that our jurymen think that you are guilty. There is only one way to
perfectly destroy the power of a false witness—it is by another direct
testimony against what he has said, or by showing from his very lips
that he has perjured himself. I failed to do that last night, though I
have diminished, to a great extent, the force of his testimony. Can you
not prove an alibi, or can you not bring witnesses who were there in the
same house that day, who would flatly and directly contradict what your
remorseless enemy has said against you?”
I answered him: “How can I try to do such a thing when they have been
shrewd enough not to fix the very date of the alleged crime against me?”
“You are correct, you are perfectly correct, Mr. Chiniquy,” answered Mr.
Lincoln, “as they have refused to specify the date, we cannot try that.
I have never seen two such skillful rogues as those two priests! There
is really a diabolical skill in the plan they have concocted for your
destruction. It is evident that the bishop is at the bottom of the plot.
You remember how I have forced LeBelle to confess that he was now on the
most friendly terms with the Bishop of Chicago, since he has become the
chief of your accusers. Though I do not give up the hope of rescuing you
from the hands of your enemies, I do not like to conceal from you that I
have several reasons to fear that you will be declared guilty and
condemned to a heavy penalty, or to the penitentiary, though I am sure
you are perfectly innocent. It is very probable that we will have to
confront that sister of LeBelle tomorrow. Her sickness is probably a
feint, in order not to appear here except after the brother will have
prepared the public mind in her favor. At all events, if she does not
come, they will send some justice of the peace to get her sworn
testimony, which will be more difficult to rebut than her own verbal
declarations. That woman is evidently in the hands of the bishop and her
brother priest, ready to swear anything they order her, and I know
nothing so difficult as to refute such female testimonies, particularly
when they are absent from the court. The only way to be sure of a
favorable verdict to-morrow is, that God Almighty would take our part
and show your innocence! Go to Him and pray, for He alone can save you.”
Mr. Lincoln was exceedingly solemn when he addressed those words to me,
and they went very deep into my soul.
I have often been asked if Abraham Lincoln had any religion but I have
never had any doubt about his profound confidence in God, since I heard
those words falling from his lips in that hour of anxiety. I had not
been able to conceal my deep distress. Burning tears were rolling on my
cheeks when he was speaking, and there was on his face the expression of
friendly sympathy which I shall never forget. Without being able to say
a word, I left him to go to my little room. It was nearly eleven
o’clock. I locked the door and fell on my knees to pray, but I was
unable to say a single word. The horrible sworn calumnies thrown at my
face by a priest of my own church were ringing in my ears! my honor and
my good name so cruelly and forever destroyed! all my friends and my
dear people covered with an eternal confusion! and more than that, the
sentence of condemnation which was probably to be hurled against me the
next day in the presence of the whole country, whose eyes were upon me!
All those things were before me, not only as horrible phantoms, but as
heavy mountains, under the burdens of which I could not breathe. At last
the fountains of tears were opened, and it relieved me to weep; I could
then speak and cry: “Oh! my God! have mercy upon me! thou knowest my
innocence! hast thou not promised that those who trust in thee cannot
perish! Oh! do not let me perish, when Thou art the only One in whom I
trust! Come to my help! Save me!”
From eleven P. M., to three in the morning I cried to God, and raised my
supplicating hands to his throne of mercy. But I confess to my
confusion, it seemed to me in certain moments, that it was useless to
pray and to cry, for though innocent, I was doomed to perish. I was in
the hands of my enemies. My God had forsaken me!
What an awful night I spent! I hope none of my readers will ever know by
their own experience the agony of spirit I endured. I had no other
expectation than to be forever dishonored, and sent to the penitentiary
next morning!
But God had not forsaken me! He had again heard my cries, and was, once
more, to show me His infinite mercy!
At three o’clock A. M., I heard three knocks at my door, and I quickly
went to open it. “Who was there? Abraham Lincoln, with a face beaming
with joy!”
I could hardly believe my eyes. But I was not mistaken. It was my
noble-hearted friend, the most honest lawyer of Illinois!—one of the
noblest men Heaven has ever given to earth! It was Abraham Lincoln, who
had been given me as my Saviour! On seeing me bathed with tears, he
exclaimed, “Cheer up, Mr. Chiniquy, I have the perjured priests in my
hands. Their diabolical plot is all known, and if they do not fly away
before the dawn of day, they will surely be lynched. Bless the Lord, you
are saved!”
The sudden passage of extreme desolation to an extreme joy came near
killing me. I felt as suffocated, and unable to utter a single word. I
took his hand, pressed it to my lips, and bathed it with tears of joy. I
said: “May God forever bless you, dear Mr. Lincoln. But please tell me
how you can bring me such glorious news!”
Here is the simple but marvellous story, as told me by that great and
good man, whom God had made the messenger of his mercies towards me:
“As soon as LeBelle had given his perjured testimony against you
yesterday,” said Mr. Lincoln, “one of the agents of the Chicago press
telegraphed to some of the principal papers of Chicago: ‘It is probable
that Mr. Chiniquy will be condemned; for the testimony of the Rev. Mr.
LeBelle seems to leave no doubt that he is guilty.’ And the little Irish
boys, to sell their papers, filled the streets with the cries: ‘Chiniquy
will be hung! Chiniquy will be hung!’ The Roman Catholics were so glad
to hear that, that ten thousand extra copies have been sold. Among those
who bought those papers was a friend of yours, called Terrien, who went
to his wife and told her that you were to be condemned, and when the
woman heard that, she said, ‘It is too bad, for I know Mr. Chiniquy is
not guilty.’
“‘How do you know that?’ said her husband. She answered: ‘I was there
when the priest LeBelle made the plot, and promised to give his sister
two-eighties of good land if she would swear a false oath—and accuse him
of a crime which that woman said he had not even thought of with her.’
“‘If it be so,’ said Terrien, ‘we cannot allow Mr. Chiniquy to be
condemned. Come with me to Urbana.’
“But that woman being quite unwell, said to her husband, ‘You know well
I cannot go; but Miss Philomene Moffat was with me then. She knows every
particular of that wicked plot as well as I do. She is well; go and take
her to Urbana. There is no doubt that her testimony will prevent the
condemnation of Mr. Chiniquy.’
“Narcisse Terrien started immediately: and when you were praying God to
come to your help, He was sending your deliverer at the full speed of
the railroad cars. Miss Moffat has just given me the details of that
diabolical plot. I have advised her not to show herself before the Court
is opened. I will, then, send for her, and when she will have given,
under oath, before the Court, the details she has just given me, I pity
Spink with his perjured priests. As I told you, I would not be surprised
if they were lynched: for there is a terrible excitement in town among
many people who from the beginning, suspect that the priests have
perjured themselves to destroy you.
“Now your suit is gained, and to-morrow, you will have the greatest
triumph a man ever got over his confounded foes. But you are in need of
a rest as well as myself. Good-bye.”
After thanking God for that marvellous deliverance, I went to bed and
took the needed rest.
But what was the priest LeBelle doing in that very moment? Unable to
sleep after the awful perjury he had just made, he had watched the
arrival of the trains from Chicago with an anxious mind, for he was
aware through the confessions he had heard, that there were two persons
in that city who knew his plot and his false oath; and though he had the
promises from them that they would never reveal it to anybody, he was
not without some fearful apprehensions that I might, by some way or
other, become acquainted with his abominable conspiracy. Not long after
the arrival of the trains from Chicago, he came down from his room to
see in the book where travelers register their names, if there was any
newcomers from Chicago, and what was his dismay when he saw the first
name entered was “_Philomene Moffat_!” That very name, Philomene Moffat,
who some time before, had gone to confess to him that she had heard the
whole plot from his own lips, when he had promised 160 acres of land to
persuade his sister to perjure herself in order to destroy me. A deadly
presentiment chilled the blood in his veins! “Would it be possible that
this girl is here to reveal and prove my perjury before the world?”
He immediately sent for her, when she was just coming from meeting Mr.
Lincoln.
“Miss Philomene Moffat here!” he exclaimed, when he saw her. “What are
you coming here for, this night?” he said.
“You will know it, sir, to-morrow morning,” she answered
“Ah! wretched girl! you come to destroy me?” he exclaimed.
She replied: “I do not come to destroy you, for you are already
destroyed. Mr. Lincoln knows everything.”
“Oh! my God! my God!” he exclaimed, striking his forehead with his
hands. Then taking a big bundle of bank notes, from his pocket-book, he
said: “Here are one hundred dollars for you, if you take the morning
train and go back to Chicago.”
“If you would offer me as much gold as this house could contain, I would
not go,” she replied.
He then left her abruptly, ran to the sleeping-room of Spink, and told
him: “Withdraw your suit against Chiniquy; we are lost; he knows all.”
Without losing a moment, he went to the sleeping-room of his co-priest,
and told him: “Make haste—dress yourself and let us take the morning
train; we have no business here, Chiniquy knows all our secrets.”
When the hour of opening the court came, there was an immense crowd, not
only inside, but outside its walls. Mr. Spink, pale as a man condemned
to death, rose before the Judge, and said: “Please the court, allow me
to withdraw my prosecution against Mr. Chiniquy. I am now persuaded that
he is not guilty of the faults brought against him before this
tribunal.”
Abraham Lincoln, having accepted that reparation in my name, made a
short, but one of the most admirable speeches I had ever heard, on the
cruel injustices I had suffered from my merciless persecutors, and
denounced the rascality of the priests who had perjured themselves, with
such terrible colors, that it had been very wise on their part to fly
away and disappear before the opening of the court. For the whole city
was ransacked for them by hundreds, who blamed me for forgiving them and
refusing to have my revenge for the wrong they had done me. But I
thought that my enemies were sufficiently punished by the awful public
disclosures of their infernal plot. It seemed that the dear Saviour who
had so visibly protected me, was to be obeyed, when he was whispering in
my soul, “Forgive them and love them as thyself.”
Was not Spink sufficiently punished by the complete ruin which was
brought upon him by the loss of the suit? For having gone to Bishop
O’Regan to be indemnified for the enormous expenses of such a long
prosecution, at such a distance, the bishop coldly answered him: “I had
promised to indemnify you if you would put Chiniquy down, as you
promised me. But as it is Chiniquy who has put you down, I have not a
cent to give you.”
Abraham Lincoln had not only defended me with the zeal and talent of the
ablest lawyer I have ever known, but as the most devoted and noblest
friend I ever had. After giving more than a year of his precious time to
my defense, when he had pleaded during two long sessions of the Court of
Urbana, without receiving a cent from me, I considered that I was owing
him a great sum of money. My other two lawyers, who had not done the
half of his work, asked me a thousand dollars each, and I had not
thought that too much. After thanking him for the inappreciable services
he had rendered me, I requested him to show me his bill, assuring him
that, though I would not be able to pay the whole cash, I would pay him
to the last cent, if he had the kindness to wait a little for the
balance.
He answered me with a smile and an air of inimitable kindness, which was
peculiar to him:
“My dear Mr. Chiniquy, I feel proud and honored to have been called to
defend you. But I have done it less as a lawyer than as a friend. The
money I should receive from you would take away the pleasure I feel at
having fought your battle. Your case is unique in my whole practice. I
have never met a man so cruelly persecuted as you have been, and who
deserves it so little. Your enemies are devils incarnate. The plot they
had concocted against you is the most hellish one I ever knew. But the
way you have been saved from their hand, the appearance of that young
and intelligent Miss Moffat, who was really sent by God in the very hour
of need, when, I confess it again, I thought everything was nearly lost,
is one of the most extraordinary occurrences I ever saw. It makes me
remember what I have too often forgotten, and what my mother often told
me when young—that our God is a prayer-hearing God. This good thought,
sown into my young heart by that dear mother’s hand, was just in my mind
when I told you, ‘Go and pray, God alone can save you.’ But I confess to
you that I had not faith enough to believe that your prayer would be so
quickly and so marvellously answered by the sudden appearance of that
interesting young lady, last night. Now let us speak of what you owe me.
Well!—Well!—how much do you owe me? You owe me nothing! for I suppose
you are quite ruined. The expenses of such a suit, I know, must be
enormous. Your enemies want to ruin you. Will I help them to finish your
ruin, when I hope I have the right to be put among the most sincere and
devoted of your friends?”
“You are right,” I answered him; “you are the most devoted and noblest
friend God ever gave me, and I am nearly ruined by my enemies. But you
are the father of a pretty large family; you must support them. Your
traveling expenses in coming, twice, here for me from Springfield; your
hotel bills during the two terms you have defended me, must be very
considerable. It is not just that you should receive nothing in return
for such work and expenses.”
“Well! well!” he answered, “I will give you a promissory note which you
will sign.” Taking then a small piece of paper, he wrote:
He handed me the note, saying, “Can you sign that?”
[Illustration: IOU]
After reading it, I said, “Dear Mr. Lincoln, this is a joke. It is not
possible that you ask only fifty dollars for services which are worth at
least two thousand dollars.”
He then tapped me with the right hand on the shoulders and said: “Sign
that; it is enough. I will pinch some rich man for that and make them
pay the rest of the bill,” and he laughed outright.
When Abraham Lincoln was writing the due-bill, the relaxation of the
great strain upon my mind, and the great kindness of my benefactor and
defender in charging me so little for such a service, and the terrible
presentiment that he would pay with his life what he had done for me,
caused me to break into sobs and tears.
As Mr. Lincoln had finished writing the due bill, he turned round to me,
and said, “Father Chiniquy, what are you crying for? ought you not to be
the most happy man alive? you have beaten your enemies and gained the
most glorious victory, and you will come out of all your troubles in
triumph.”
“Dear Mr. Lincoln,” I answered, “allow me to tell you that the joy I
should naturally feel for such a victory is destroyed in my mind by the
fear of what it may cost you. There were, then, in the crowd, not less
than ten or twelve Jesuits from Chicago and St. Louis, who came to hear
my sentence of condemnation to the penitentiary. But it was on their
heads that you have brought the thunders of heaven and earth! nothing
can be compared to the expression of their rage against you, when you
not only wrenched me from their cruel hands, but you were making the
walls of the court-house tremble under the awful and superhumanly
eloquent denunciation of their infamy, diabolical malice, and total want
of Christian and human principle, in the plot they had formed for my
destruction. What troubles my soul, just now, and draws my tears, is
that it seems to me that I have read your sentence of death in their
bloody eyes. How many other noble victims have already fallen at their
feet!”
He tried to divert my mind, at first, with a joke, “Sign this,” said he,
“It will be my warrant of death.”
But after I had signed, he became more solemn, and said, “I know that
Jesuits never forget nor forsake. But man must not care how and where he
dies, provided he dies at the post of honor and duty,” and he left me.
Here is the sworn declaration of Miss Philomene Moffat, now Mrs.
Philomene Schwartz:
State of Illinois,} s.s.
Cook County }
“Philomene Schwartz being first duly sworn, deposes and says: That she
is of the age of forty-three years, and resides at 484 Milwaukee Avenue,
Chicago; that her maiden name was Philomene Moffat, that she knew Father
LeBelle, the Roman Catholic priest of the French Catholics of Chicago
during his lifetime, and knows Rev. Father Chiniquy; that about the
month of May, A. D. 1854, in company with Miss Eugenia Bossey, the
housekeeper of her uncle, the Rev’d Mr. LeBelle, who was then living at
the parsonage on Clark street, Chicago, while we were sitting in the
room of Miss Bossey, the Rev. Mr. LeBelle was talking with his sister,
Mrs. Bossey, in the adjoining room, not suspecting that we were there
hearing his conversation, through the door, which was partly opened;
though we could neither see him nor his sister, we heard every word of
what they said together, the substance of which is as follows—Rev. Mr.
LeBelle said in substance, to Mrs. Bossey, his sister:
“‘You know that Mr. Chiniquy is a dangerous man, and he is my enemy,
having already persuaded several of my congregation to settle in his
colony. You must help me to put him down, by accusing him of having
tried to do a criminal action with you.’
“Madame Bossey answered: ‘I cannot say such a thing against Mr.
Chiniquy, when I know it is absolutely false.’
“Rev. M. LeBelle replied: ‘If you refuse to comply with my request, I
will not give you the one hundred and sixty acres of land I intended to
give you; you will live and die poor.’
“Madame Bossey answered: ‘I prefer never to have that land, and I like
better to live and die poor, than to perjure myself to please you.’
“The Rev. Mr. LeBelle, several times, urged his sister, Mrs. Bossey, to
comply with his desires, but she refused. At last, weeping and crying,
she said: ‘I prefer never to have an inch of land than to damn my soul
for swearing to a falsehood.’
“The Rev. Mr. LeBelle then said:
“‘Mr. Chiniquy will destroy our holy religion and our people if we do
not destroy him. If you think that the swearing I ask you to do is a
sin, you will come to confess to me, and I will pardon it in the
absolution I will give you.’
“‘Have you the power to forgive a false oath?’ replied Mrs. Bossey to
her brother, the priest.
“‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘I have that power; for Christ has said to all his
priests, “What you shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and
what you shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”’
“Mrs. Bossey then said: ‘If you promise that you will forgive that false
oath, and if you give me the one hundred and sixty acres of land you
promised, I will do what you want.’
“The Rev’d Mr. LeBelle then said: ‘All right!’ I could not hear any more
of that conversation, for in that instant Miss Eugenia Bossey, who had
kept still and silent with us, made some noise and shut the door.
“Affiant further states: That some time later I went to confess to Rev.
Mr. LeBelle, and I told him that I had lost confidence in him, He asked
me why? I answered: ‘I lost my confidence in you since I heard your
conversation with your sister, when you tried to persuade her to perjure
herself in order to destroy Father Chiniquy.’
“Affiant further says: “That in the month of October, A. D. 1856, the
Rev’d Mr. Chiniquy had to defend himself, before the civil and criminal
court of Urbana, Illinois, in an action brought against him by Peter
Spink; some one wrote from Urbana to a paper of Chicago, that Father
Chiniquy was probably to be condemned. The paper which published that
letter was much read by the Roman Catholics, who were glad to hear that
that priest was to be punished. Among those who read that paper was
Narcisse Terrien. He had lately been married to Miss Sara Chaussey, who
told him that Father Chiniquy was innocent; that she was present with me
when Rev’d LeBelle prepared the plot with his sister, Mrs. Bossey, and
had promised her a large piece of land if she would swear falsely
against Father Chiniquy. Mr. Narcisse Terrien wanted to go with his wife
to the help of Father Chiniquy, but she was unwell and could not go. He
came to ask me if I remembered well the conversation of Rev’d Mr.
LeBelle, and if I would consent to go to Urbana to expose the whole plot
before the court, and I consented.
“We started that same evening for Urbana, where we arrived late at
night. I immediately met Mr. Abraham Lincoln, one of the lawyers of
Father Chiniquy, and told him all that I knew about the plot.
“That very same night the Rev’d Mr. LeBelle, having seen my name on the
hotel register, came to me much excited and troubled, and said,
‘Philomene, what are you here for?’
“I answered him, ‘I cannot exactly tell you that; but you will probably
know it tomorrow at the court-house!’
“‘Oh, wretched girl!’ he exclaimed, ‘you have come to destroy me.’
“‘I do not come to destroy you,’ I replied, ‘for you are already
destroyed!’
“Then drawing from his portmonnaie-book a big bundle of bank-notes,
which he said was worth one hundred dollars, he said: ‘I will give you
all this money if you will leave by the morning train and go back to
Chicago.’
“I answered him: ‘Though you would offer me as much gold as this room
can contain, I cannot do what you ask.’
“He then seemed exceedingly distressed, and he disappeared. The next
morning Peter Spink requested the court to allow him to withdraw his
accusations against Father Chiniquy, and to stop his prosecutions,
having, he said, found out that he, Father Chiniquy, was innocent of the
things brought against him, and his request was granted. Then the
innocence and honesty of Father Chiniquy was acknowledged by the court
after it had been proclaimed by Abraham Lincoln, who was afterwards
elected President of the United States.
“(Signed) PHILOMENE SCHWARTZ.[F]
“I, Stephen R. Moore, a Notary Public in the County of Kankakee, in the
State of Illinois, and duly authorized by law to administer oaths, do
hereby certify that, on this 21st day of October, A. D. 1881, Philomene
Schwartz personally appeared before me, and made oath that the above
affidavit by her subscribed is true, as therein stated. In witness
whereto, I have hereunto set my hand and notarial seal.
“STEPHEN R. MOORE,
“Notary Public.”
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Footnote F:
That lady is still living, 1886, and at the head of one of the most
respectable families of Chicago, residing at 482 Milwaukee Avenue.
-----