After the above had been read and delivered to the people, I
showed them the evident falsehood and contradictions of the
bishop when he said in his second answer: "If Mr. Chiniquy
said mass since I interdicted him, he is irregular, and the pope
alone can restore him in his ecclesiastical functions," and then in
the seventh, "Tell Mr. Chiniquy to come and meet me to prepare
for his new mission, and I will give him the letters he wants to
go and labor there."
The last sentence, I said, proves that he knew he had not interdicted
me as he said at first. For, had he done so, he could
not give me letters to administer the sacraments and preach at
Kahokia before my going before the pope, who alone, as he said,
himself, could give me such powers, after he (the bishop) knew
that I had said mass since my return from Chicago. Now, my
friends, here is the laws of our holy church, not the saying or the
law of a publicly degraded man, as the Bishop of Chicago: `If
a man has been unjustly condemned, let him pay no attention to
the unjust sentence; let him even do nothing to have that unjust
sentence removed.' (
Canon of the Church, by St. Gelase, Pope.)
"If the bishop had interdicted me on the 19th, his sentence
would be unjust, for from his own lips we have the confession,
`that no accusation has ever been proved before him; that I am
one of his best priests; that he does not want to be deprived of
my services.' Yes, such a sentence, if passed, would have been
unjust, and our business, to-day, would be to treat it with the
contempt it would deserve. But that unjust sentence has not even
been pronounced, since, after saying mass every day since the
19th, the bishop himself wants to give me letters to go to
Kahokia and work as one of his best priests! It strikes me,
to-day, for the first time, that it is more your destruction, as a
people, than mine, which the bishop wants to accomplish. It is
my desire to remain in your midst to defend your rights as
Catholics. If you are true to me, as I will be to you, in the impending
struggle, we have nothing to fear; for our holy Catholic
church is for us; all her laws and canons are in our favor; the
Gospel of Christ is for us; the God of the Gospel is for us;
even the pope, to whom we will appeal, will be for us—for I
must tell you a thing which, till to-day, I kept secret, viz.: The
Archbishop of St. Louis, to whom I brought my complaint, in
April last, advised me to write to the pope and tell him, not
all, for it would make too large a volume, but something of the
criminal deeds of the roaring lion who wants to devour us. He
is, to-day, selling the bones of the dead which are resting in the
Roman Catholic cemetery of Chicago! But if you are true to
yourselves as Catholics and Americans, that mitred tyrant will
not sell the bones of our friends and relatives which rest here in
our burying ground. He has sold the parsonage and the church
which our dear countrymen had built in Chicago. Those properties
are, to-day, in the hands of the Irish; but if you promise
to stand by your rights as Christian men and American citizens,
I will tell that avaricious bishop: `Come and sell our parsonage
and our church here, if you dare!'
"As I told you before, we have a glorious battle to fight. It
is the battle of freedom against the most cruel tyranny the world
has ever seen. It is the battle of truth against falsehood; it is
the battle of the old Gospel of Christ against the new gospel of
Bishop O'Regan. Let us be true to ourselves to the end, and our
holy church, which that bishop dishonors, will bless us. Our
Saviour, Jesus Christ, whose Gospel is despised by that adventurer,
will be for us, and give us a glorious victory. Have you not read
in your Bibles that Jesus wanted his disciples to be free, when
He said: `If the son of man shall make you free, you shall be
free indeed.' Does that mean that the Son of God wants us to
be the slaves of Bishop O'Regan? `No!' cried out the whole people.
"May God bless you for your understanding of your Christian
rights. Let all those who want to be free, with me, raise
their hands.
"Oh! blessed be the Lord," I said, "there are more than
3,000 hands raised towards heaven to say that you want to be
free! Now, let those who do not want to defend their rights as
Christians and as American citizens, raise their hands. Thanks
be to God," I again exclaimed, "there is not a traitor among us!
You are all the true, brave and noble soldiers of liberty, truth
and righteousness! May the Lord bless you all!"
It is impossible to describe the enthusiasm of the people. Before
dismissing them, I said:
"We will, no doubt, very soon witness one of the most ludicrous
comedies ever played on this continent. That comedy is
generally called excommunication. Some drunkard priests, sent
by the drunkard Bishop of Chicago, will come to excommunicate
us. I expect their visit in a few days. That performance will
be worth seeing, and I hope that you will see and hear the most
amusing thing in your life."
I was not mistaken. The very next day, we heard that the
3rd of September had been chosen by the bishop to excommunicate
us.
I said to the people: "When you see the flag of the free
and the brave floating from the top of our steeple, come and rally
around that emblem of liberty."
There were more than 3,000 people on our beautiful hill
when the priests made their appearance. A few moments before,
I had said to that immense gathering:
"I bless God that you are so many to witness the last tyrannical
act of Bishop O'Regan. But I have a favor to ask of you,
it is that no insult or opposition whatever will be made to the
priests who come to play that comedy. Please do not say an
angry word, do not move a finger against the performers. They
are not responsible for what they do, for two reasons:
"1st. They will probably be drunk.
"2nd. They are bound to do that work by their master and
Lord Bishop O'Regan."
The priests arrived at about 2 o'clock P. M., and never such
shouting and clapping of hands had been heard in our colony as
on their appearance. Never had I seen my dear people so
cheerful and good-humored as when one of the priests, trembling
from head to foot with terror and drunkenness, tried to
read the following sham act of excommunication, which he
nailed on the door of the chapel:
