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.
C. CHINIQUY
It was eleven o’clock at night, when I consented to sign this document,
which was to be handed to the bishop and have any value, only on the
above conditions. The two deputies were besides themselves with joy, at
the success of their mission, and at my readiness to sacrifice myself
for the sake of peace. Mons. Desaulnier said:
“Now we see, evidently, that Chiniquy has been right with his people
from the beginning, that he never meant to create a schism and to put
himself at the head of a rebellious party, to defy the authority of the
church. If the bishop does not want to live in peace with the people and
pastor of St. Anne, after such a sacrifice, we will tell him that it is
not Chiniquy, but Bishop O’Regan, who wants a schism—we will appeal to
the Pope—I will go with Chiniquy, and we will easily get, there, the
removal of that Bishop from the diocese of Chicago.”
Mr. Brassard confirmed that sentence, and added that he, also, would
accompany me to Rome to be the witness of my innocence and the bad
conduct of the bishop. He added that it would not take him a week to
raise twice the amount of money in Montreal, we would require to go to
Rome.
After thanking them for what they had done and said, I asked Mr.
Desaulnier if he would be brave enough to repeat before my whole people
what he had just said before me and Mr. Brassard, in the presence of
God.
“Surely, I would be most happy to repeat before your whole people, that
it is impossible to find fault with you in what you have done till now.
But you know very well, I will never have such an opportunity, for it is
now 11 o’clock at night, your people are soundly sleeping, and I must
start to-morrow morning, at six o’clock, to take the Chicago train at
Kankakee at 8 A. M.
I answered: “All right!”
We knelt together to make a short prayer, and I led them to their rooms,
wishing them refreshing sleep, after the hard work of the day.
Ten minutes later I was in the village, knocking at the doors of six of
my most respectable parishioners, and telling them:
“Please do not lose a moment, go with your fastest horse to such and
such a part of the colony; knock at every door and tell the people to be
at the church at 5 o’clock in the morning to hear with their own ears
what the deputies from Canada have to say about past struggles with the
Bishop of Chicago. Tell them to be punctual at 5 o’clock in their pews,
where the deputies will address them words which they must hear at any
cost.”
A little before five, the next morning, Mr. Desaulnier, full of surprise
and anxiety, knocked at my door, and said:
“Chiniquy, do you not hear the strange noise of buggies and carriages,
which seem to be coming from every quarter of the globe? What does it
mean? Has your people become crazy, to come to church at this dark hour,
so long before the dawn of day?”
“What! what!” I answered, “I was sleeping so soundly that I have heard
nothing yet. What do you mean by this noise of carriages and buggies
around the chapel? Are you dreaming?”
“No, I am not dreaming,” he answered, “not only do I hear the noise of a
great many carriages, wagons and buggies; but though it is pretty dark,
I see several hundred of them around the chapel. I hear the voices of a
great multitude of men, women, and even children, putting questions to
each other, and giving answers which I cannot understand. They make such
a noise by their laughing and jokes! Can you tell me what this means? I
have never been so puzzled in my life.”
I answered him: “Do you not see that you are dreaming. Let me dress
myself that I may go and see something of that strange and awful dream!”
Mr. Brassard, though a little more calm than Desaulnier, was not,
himself, without some anxiety at the strange noise of that multitude of
carriages, horses and people around my house and chapel, at such an
hour. Knocking at my door, he said, “Please, Chiniquy, explain that
strange mystery. Do that people come to play us some bad trick, and
punish us for intruding in their affairs?”
“Be quiet,” I answered, “my dear friends. You have nothing to fear from
that good and intelligent people. Do you not remember that, last night,
a few minutes before 11 o’clock, Desaulnier said that he would be honest
and brave enough to repeat before my whole people what he had said
before you and me, and in the presence of God. I suppose that some of
the angels of heaven have heard those words, and have carried them, this
night, to every family, inviting them to be here at the chapel, that
they might hear from your own lips, what you think of the grand and
glorious battle they are fighting in this distant land, for the
principles of truth and justice, as the gospel secures them to every
disciple of Christ.”
“Well! well!” said Desaulnier, “there is only one Chiniquy in the world
to take me in such a trap, and there is only one people under heaven to
do what this people is doing here. I would never have given you that
answer, had I not been morally sure that I would never have had an
opportunity to fulfill it. Who would think you would play me such a
trick? But,” he added, “though I know that this will terribly compromise
me before certain parties, it is too late to retract, and I will fulfill
my promise.”
It is impossible to express my own joy and the joy of that noble people
when they heard, from the very lips of those deputies that, after
spending a whole day and two nights in examining all that had been done
by their pastor and by them in that solemn and fearful contest, they
declared that they had not broken any law of God, nor of his holy
church; and that they had kept themselves in the very way prescribed by
the canons.
Tears of joy were rolling down every cheek when they heard Mr.
Desaulnier telling them, which Mr. Brassard confirmed after, that the
bishop had no possible right to interdict their pastor, since he had
told them that he was one of his best priests; and that they had done
well not to pay any attention to an act of excommunication which was a
sham and a sacrilegious comedy, not having been signed nor certified by
any known person. Both deputies said:
“Mr. Brassard will be your pastor, and Mr. Chiniquy, as his vicar, will
remain in your midst. He has signed an act of submission, which we have
found sufficient, on the condition that the bishop will let you live in
peace, and withdraw the sentence he says he has fulminated against you.
If he does not accept those conditions, we will tell him, it is not Mr.
Chiniquy, but you, who wants a schism, and we will go with Mr. Chiniquy
to Rome, to plead his cause and prove his innocence before his
holiness.”
After this, we all knelt to thank and bless God; and never people went
back to their homes with more cheerful hearts than the people of St.
Anne, on that morning of the 25th of November, 1856.
At six o’clock A. M., Mr. Desaulnier was on his way back to Chicago, to
present my conditional act of submission to the bishop, and press him,
in the name of the Bishop of Canada, and in the name of all the most
sacred interests of the church, to accept the sacrifice and the
submission of the people of St. Anne, and to give them the peace they
wanted and were purchasing at such a price. The Rev. Mr. Brassard had
remained with me, waiting for a letter from the bishop to accompany me
and put the last seal to our reconciliation.
The next day he received the following note from Mr. Desaulnier:
BISHOPRIC OF CHICAGO, Nov. 26th, 1856.
THE REV. MR. BRASSARD, MONSIEUR:—
It is advisable and indispensable that you should come here, with Mr.
Chiniquy, as soon as possible. In consequence, I expect you both day
after to-morrow, in order to settle that matter definitely.
Respectfully yours. ISAAC DESAULNIER.
After reading that letter with Mr. Brassard, I said:
“Do you not feel that these cold words mean nothing good? I regret that
you have not gone with Desaulnier to the bishop. You know the levity and
weakness of his character, always bold with his words, but soft as wax
at the least pressure which he feels. My fear is that the bulldog
tenacity of my lord O’Regan has frightened him, and all his courage and
bravados have melted away before the fierce temper of the Bishop of
Chicago. But let us go. Be sure, however, my dear Mr. Brassard, that if
the Bishop does not accept you to remain at the head of this colony, to
protect and guide it, no consideration whatever will induce me to betray
my people and let them become the prey of the wolves which want to
devour them.”
We arrived at the Illinois Central depot of Chicago, the 28th, at about
10 A. M. Mr. Desaulnier was there waiting for us. He was as pale as a
dead man. The marks of Cain and Judas were on his face. Having taken him
at a short distance from the crowd, I asked him:
“What news?”
He answered: “The news is, that you and Mr. Brassard have nothing to do
but to take your bags and go away from St. Anne, to Canada. The bishop
is unwilling to make any arrangements with you. He wants me to be the
pastor of St. Anne, _pro tempore_, and he wants you with Mr. Brassard,
to go quietly back to Canada, and tell the bishops to mind their own
business.”
“And what has become of the promise you have given me and to my people,
to go with me and Mr. Brassard to Rome, if the bishop refused the
proposed arrangements you had fixed yourselves?”
“Tat! tat! tat!” answered he, “the bishop does not care a straw about
your going or not going to Rome. He has put me as his grand vicar at the
head of the colony of St. Anne, from which you must go in the shortest
time possible.”
“Now, Desaulnier,” I answered, “you are a traitor, and a Judas, and if
you want to have the pay of Judas, I advise you to go to St. Anne. There
you will receive what you deserve. The beauty and importance of that
great colony has tempted you, and you have sold me to the bishop, in
order to become a grand vicar and eat the fruits of the vine I have
planted there. But you will soon see your mistake. If you have any pity
for yourself, I advise you never to put your feet into that place any
more.”
Desaulnier answered: “The bishop will not make any arrangements with you
unless you retract publicly what you have written against him on account
of his taking possession of the church of the French-Canadians of
Chicago, and you must publish, in the press, that he was right and
honest in what he did in that circumstance.”
“My dear Mr. Brassard,” I said, “can I make such a declaration
conscientiously and honorably?” That venerable man answered me:
“You cannot consent to such a thing.”
“Desaulnier,” I said, “do you hear? Mr. Brassard and your conscience, if
you have any, tell you the same thing. If you take sides against me with
a man whom you have yourself declared, yesterday, to be a sacrilegious
thief, you are not better than he is. Go and work with him.
“As for me, I go back into the midst of my dear and noble people of St.
Anne.”
“What will you do there,” answered Mr. Desaulnier, “when the bishop has
forbidden you to remain?”
“What will I do?” I answered, “I will teach those true disciples of
Jesus Christ to shun and despise the tyrants and the traitors, even
though wearing a mitre or a square bonnet (un bonnet quarre). Go,
traitor! and finish your Judas work! Adieu!”
I then threw myself into the arms of Mr. Brassard, who was almost
speechless, suffocated in his sobs and tears. I pressed him to my heart,
and said:
“Adieu! my dear Mr. Brassard. Go back to Canada and tell my friends how
the cowardice and ambition of that traitor has ruined the hopes we had
of putting an end to this deplorable state of affairs. I go back among
my brethren of St. Anne, with more determination than ever to protect
them against the tyranny and impiety of our despotic rulers. It will be
more easy than ever to show them that the Son of God has not redeemed us
on the cross, that we might be the slaves of those heartless traders in
souls.
“I will more earnestly than ever, teach my people to shun the modern
gospel of the bishops, in order to follow the old Gospel of Jesus
Christ, as the only hope and life of our poor fallen humanity.”
Mr. Brassard wanted to say something; but his voice was suffocated by
his sobs. The only words he could utter, when pressing me to his heart,
were: “Adieu, dear friend, Adieu!”