University of Virginia Library

Chapter LVI.

PUBLIC ACTS OF SIMONY—THEFTS AND BRIGANDAGE OF
BISHOP O'REGAN—GENERAL CRY OF INDIGNATION—I DETERMINE
TO RESIST HIM TO HIS FACE—HE EMPLOYS MR.
SPINK AGAIN TO SEND ME TO GAOL, AND HE FAILS—DRAGS
ME AS A PRISONER TO URBANA IN THE SPRING OF 1856
AND FAILS AGAIN—ABRAHAM LINCOLN DEFENDS ME—MY
DEAR BIBLE BECOMES MORE THAN EVER MY LIGHT AND
MY COUNSELOR.

A MONTH had hardly elapsed since the ecclesiastical retreat,
when all the cities of Illinois, were filled by the most
strange and humiliating clamors against our bishop. From
Chicago to Cairo, it would have been difficult to go to a single
town, without having, from the most respectable people, or
reading in big letters, in some of the most influential papers, that
Bishop O'Regan was a thief or a simoniac, a perjurer, or even
something worse. The bitterest complaints were crossing each
other over the breadth and length of Illinois, from almost every
congregation:

"He has stolen the beautiful and costly vestments we bought
for our church," cried the French Canadians of Chicago. "He
has swindled us out of a fine lot given us to build our church,
sold it for $40,000, and pocketed the money, for his own private
use, without giving us any notice," said the Germans.

"His thirst for money is so great," said the whole Catholic
people of Illinois, "that he is selling even the bones of the dead
to fill his treasures!"

I had not forgotten the bold attempt of the bishop to wrench
my little property from my hands, at his first visit to my colony.

The highway thief who puts his dagger at the breast of the
traveler, threatening to take away his life, if he does not give

him his purse, does not appear more infamous to his victim than
that bishop appeared to me, that day. But my hope, then, was,
that this was an isolated and exceptional case in the life of
my superior; and I did not whisper a word of it to anybody.
I began to think differently, however, when I saw the numerous
articles in the principal papers of the State, signed by the most
respectable names, accusing him of theft, simony and lies. My
hope, at first, was that there were many exaggerations in those
reports. But they came thicker, day after day, I thought my
duty was to go to Chicago, and see for myself, to what extent
those rumors were true. I went directly to the French Canadian
church; and to my unspeakable dismay, I found that it was
too true that the bishop had stolen the fine church vestments,
which my countrymen had bought for their own priest, for
grand festivals; and he had transferred them to the cathredal of
St. Mary for his own personal use. The indignation of my
poor countrymen knew no bounds. It was really deplorable to
hear with what supreme disgust, and want of respect, they were
speaking of their bishop. Unfortunately, the Germans and Irish
people were still ahead of them in their unguarded, disrespectful
denunciations. Several spoke of prosecuting him before the
civil courts, to force him to disgorge what he had stolen; and it
was with the greatest difficulty that I succeeded in preventing
some of them from mobbing and insulting him publicly in the
streets, or even in his own palace. The only way I could find
to appease them was to promise that I would speak to his lordship,
and tell him that it was the desire of my countrymen to
have those vestments restored to them.

The second thing I did was to go to the cemetery, and see
for myself, to what extent it was true or not that our bishop
was selling the very bones of his diocesans, in order to make
money.

On my way to the Roman Catholic graveyard, I met a great
many cart-loads of sand, which, I was told by the carters, had
been taken from the cemetery; but I did not like to stop them
till I was at the very door of the consecrated spot. There, I
found three carters, who were just leaving the grounds. I asked

and obtained from them, the permission to search the sand which
they carried, to see if there were not some bones. I could not
find any in the first cart; and my hope was that it would be the
same in the two others. But, to my horror and shame, I found
the inferior jaw of a child, in the second; and part of the bones
of an arm, and almost the whole foot of a human being, in the
third cart! I politely requested the carters to show me the very
place where they had dug that sand, and they complied with my
prayer. To my unspeakable regret and shame, I found that the
bishop had told an unmitigated falsehood when, to appease the
public indignation against his sacrilegious trade, he had published
that he was selling only the sand which was outside of the fence,
on the very border of the lake.

It is true that, to make his case good, he had ordered the old
fence to be taken away, in order to make a new one, many feet
inside the old one. But this miserable and shameful subterfuge
rendered his crime still greater than it had at first appeared.
What added to the gravity of that public iniquity, is that the
Bishop of Chicago had received that piece of land from the city,
for a burial ground, only after they had taken a solemn oath to
use it only for burying the dead. Every load of that ground
sold then, was not only an act of simony, but the breaking of a
solemn oath! No words can express the shame I felt, after convincing
myself of the correctness of what the press of Chicago,
and of the whole State of Illinois, had published against our
bishop, about this sacrilegious traffic.

Slowly retracing my steps to the city from the cemetery, I
went directly to the bishop, to fulfil the promise I had made to
the French Canadians, to try to obtain the restoration of their
fine vestments. But I was not long with him without seeing
that I would gain nothing but his implacable enmity in pleading
the cause of my poor countrymen. However, I thought that
my duty was to do all in my power to open the eyes of my
bishop to the pit he was digging for himself and for us all
Catholics, by his conduct.

"My lord," I said, "I will not surprise your lordship, when
I tell you that all the true Catholics of Illinois, are filled

with sorrow by the articles they find, every day, in the press,
against their bishop."

"Yes! yes!" he abruptly replied, "the good Catholics must
be sad indeed to read such disgusting diatribes against their superior;
and I presume that you are one of those that are sorry.
But, then, why do you not prevent your insolent and infidel
countrymen from writing those things! I see that a great part
of those libels are signed by the French Canadians."

I answered: "It is to try, as much as it is in my power, to
put an end to those scandals that I am in Chicago, to-day, my
lord."

"Very well, very well," he replied, "as you have the reputation
of having great influence over your countrymen, make use
of it to stop them in their rebellious conduct against me, and I
will, then, believe that you are a good priest."

I answered: "I hope that I will succeed in what your lordship
wants me to do. But there are two things to be done, in
order to secure my success."

"What are they?" quickly asked the bishop.

"The first is, that your lordship give back the fine church
vestments which you have taken from the French Canadian
congregation of Chicago.

"The second is, that your lordship abstain, absolutely, from
this day, to sell the sand of the burying ground, which covers
the tombs of the dead."

Without answering a word, the bishop struck his fist violently
upon the table, and crossed the room at a quick step, two or
three times; then turning towards me, and pointing his finger
to my face, he exclaimed in an indescribable accent of
rage:

"Now, I see the truth of what Mr. Spink told me! you are
not only my bitterest enemy, but you are at the head of my enemies.
You take sides with them against me. You approve of
their libellous writings against me! I will never give back those
church vestments. They are mine, as the French Canadian
church is mine! Do you not know, that the ground on which
the churches are built, as well as the churches themselves, and

all that belongs to the church, belongs to the bishop? Was it
not a burning shame to use those fine vestments in a poor miserable
church of Chicago, when the bishop of that important city
was covered with rags? It was in the interest of the episcopal
dignity, that I ordered those rich and splendid vestments, which
were mine by law, to be transferred from that small and insignificant
congregation, to my cathedral of St. Mary, and if you
had an ounce of respect for your bishop, Mr. Chiniquy, you
would immediately go to your countrymen and put a stop to their
murmurs and slanders against me; by simply telling them that I
have taken what was mine from that church, which is mine also,
to the cathedral, which is altogether mine.

"Tell your countrymen to hold their tongues, and respect
their bishop, when he is in the right, as I am to-day."

I had, many times, considered the infamy and injustice of the
law which the bishops have had passed all over the United
States, making every one of them a corporation, with the right
of possessing personally all the church properties of the Roman
Catholics. But I had never understood the infamy and tyranny
of that law so clearly as in that hour.

It is impossible to describe with ink and paper the air of
pride and contempt with which the bishop really in substance, if
not in words, told me:

"All those things are mine. I do what I please with them,
you must be mute and silent when I take them away from you.
It is against God Himself that you rebel when you refuse me
the right of dispossessing you of all those properties which you
have purchased with your own money, and which have not cost
me a cent!"

In that moment I felt that the law which makes every bishop
the only master and proprietor of all the religious goods, houses,
churches, lands and money of their people as Catholics, is simply
diabolical: and that the church which sanctions such a law,
is antichristian. Though it was, at the risk and peril of every
thing dear to me, that I should openly protest against that unjust
law, there was no help; I felt constrained to do so with all the
energy I possessed.

I answered: "My lord, I confess that this is the law, in the
United States; but this is a human law, directly opposed to the
Gospel. I do not find a single word in the Gospel which gives
this power to the bishop. Such a power is an abusive, not a divine
power, which will sooner or later destroy our holy church,
in the United States, as it has already mortally wounded her in
Great Britain, in France and in many other places. When
Christ said, in the Holy Gospel, that He had not enough of
ground whereon to lay His head, He condemned, in advance, the
pretensions of the bishops who lay their hands on our church
properties as their own. Such a claim is an usurpation and not
a right, my lord. Our Saviour Jesus Christ protested against
that usurpation, when asked by a young man to meddle in his
temporal affairs with his brothers; He answered that "He had
not received such power." The Gospel is a long protest against
that usurpation; in every page, it tells us that the Kingdom of
Christ is not of this world. I have myself given $50 to help my
countrymen to buy those church vestments. They belong to
them, and not to you!"

My words, uttered with an expression of firmness which the
bishop had never yet seen in any of his priests, fell upon him, at
first, as a thunderbolt. They so puzzled him, that he looked at
me, a moment, as if he wanted to see if it was a dream or a reality,
that one of his priests had the audacity to use such language,
in his presence.

But, soon, recovering from his stupor, he interrupted me by
striking his fist again on the table, and saying in anger:

"You are half a Protestant! Your words smell Protestantism!
The Gospel! the Gospel!! that is your great tower of
strength against the laws and regulations of our holy church!
If you think, Mr. Chiniquy, that you will frighten me with your
big words of the Gospel, you will soon see your mistake, at your
own expense. I will make you remember that it is the Church
you must obey, and it is through your bishop that the church
rules you!"

"My lord," I answered, "I want to obey the church. Yes!

but it is a church founded on the Gospel; a church that respects
and follows the Gospel, that I want to obey!"

These words threw him into a fit of rage, and he answered:
"I am too busy to hear your impertinent babblings any longer.
Please let me alone, and remember that you will, soon, hear from
me again, if you cannot teach your people to respect and obey
their superiors!"

The bishop kept his promise. I heard of him very soon after,
when his agent, Peter Spink, dragged me, again, a prisoner, before
the Criminal Court of Kankakee, accusing me falsely of
crimes which his malice alone could have invented.

My lord O'Regan had determined to interdict me; but not
being able to find any cause in my private or public life as a
priest, to found such a sentence, he had pressed that land speculator,
Spink, to prosecute me again; promising to base his interdict
on the condemnation which, he had been told, would be
passed against me by the Criminal Court of Kankakee.

But the bishop and Peter Spink were again to be disappointed;
for the verdict of the court, given on the 13th of November,
1855, was again in my favor.

My heart filled with joy at this new and great victory my God
had given me against my merciless persecutors. I was blessing
him, when my two lawyers, Messrs. Osgood and Padcock, came
to me and said: "Our victory, though great, is not so decisive
as was expected; for Mr. Spink has just taken an oath that he
has no confidence in this Kankakee Court, and he has appealed,
by a change of venue, to the Court of Urbana, in Champaign
County. We are sorry to have to tell you that you must remain
a prisoner, under bail, in the hands of the sheriff, who is bound to
deliver you to the sheriff of Urbana, the 19th of May, next spring."

I nearly fainted when I heard this. The ignominy of being
again in the hands of the sheriff, for so long a time; the enormous
expenses, far beyond my means, to bring my fifteen to
twenty witnesses such a long distance of nearly one hundred
milee; the new ocean of insults, false accusations and perjuries,
with which my enemies were to overwhelm me again; and the
new risk of being condemned, though innocent, at that distant

court; all those things crowded themselves in my mind, to crush
me. For a few minutes, I was obliged to sit down; for I would
have, surely, fallen down, had I continued to stand on my feet.
A kind friend had to bring me some cold water, and bathe my
forehead, to prevent me from fainting. It seemed that God had
forsaken me, for the time being, and that He was to let me fall
powerless into the hand of my foes. But I was mistaken. That
merciful God was near me, in that dark hour, to give me one of
the marvellous proofs of his paternal and loving care.

The very moment I was leaving the court with a heavy
heart, a gentleman, a stranger, came to me and said: "I have
followed your suit from the beginning. It is more formidable
than you suspect. Your prosecutor, Spink, is only an instrument
in the hands of the bishop. The real prosecutor is the land shark
who is at the head of the diocese, and who is destroying our holy
religion by his private and public scandals. As you are the only
one among his priests who dares to resist him, he is determined
to get rid of you: he will spend all his treasures, and use the almost
irresistible influence of his position to crush you. The misfortune
for you is that, when you fight a bishop, you fight all the
bishops of the world. They will unite all their wealth and influence
to Bishop O'Regan's, to silence you, though they hate
and despise him. There was no danger of any verdict against
you, in this part of Illinois, where you are too well known for
the perjured witnesses they have brought to influence your
judges. But, when you are among strangers, mind what I tell
you: the false oaths of your enemies my be accepted as gospel
truths by the jury, and then, though innocent, you are lost.
Though your two lawyers are expert men, you will want something
better, at Urbana. Try to secure the services of Abraham
Lincoln, at Springfield. If that man defends you, you will
surely come out victorious from the deadly conflict!"

I answered: "I am much obliged to you for your sympathetic
words; but would you please allow me to ask your name?"

"Be kind enough to let me keep my incognito here," he answered.
"The only thing I can say is, that I am a Catholic
like you, and one who, like you, cannot bear any longer the

tyranny of our American bishops. With many others, I look to
you as our deliverer, and for that reason I advise you to engage
the services of Abraham Lincoln."

"But," I replied, "who is that Abraham Lincoln? I never
heard of that man before."

He replied: "Abraham Lincoln is the best lawyer and the
most honest man we have in Illinois."

I went, immediately, with that stranger, to my two lawyers,
who were in consultation only a few steps from us, and asked
them if they would have any objections that I should ask the
services of Abraham Lincoln, to help them to defend me at
Urbana.

They both answered: "Oh! If you can secure the services
of Abraham Lincoln; by all means do it. We know him well;
he is one of the best lawyers, and one of the most honest men
we have in our State."

Without losing a minute, I went to the telegraph office with
that stranger, and telegraphed to Abraham Lincoln to ask him
if he would defend my honor and my life (though I was a
stranger to him) at the next May term of the court at Urbana.

About twenty minutes later, I received the answer:

My unknown friend then paid the operator, pressed my hand,
and said: "May God bless and help you, Father Chiniquy.
Continue to fight fearlessly for truth and righteousness, against
our mitred tyrant; and God will help you to the end." He
then took a train for the north, and soon disapeared, as a vision
from heaven. I have not seen him since, though I have not let
a day pass without asking my God to bless him. A few minutes
later, Spink came to the office, to telegraph to Lincoln, asking
his services at the next May term of the Court, at Urbana. But
it was too late.

Before being dragged to Urbana, I had to renew, at Easter,
1856, the oil which is used for the sick, in the ceremony which
the Church of Rome calls the sacrament of Extreme Unction,
and in the Baptism of Children. I sent my little silver box to

the bishop by a respectable young merchant of my colony, called
Dorion. But he brought it back without a drop of oil, with a
most abusive letter from the bishop, because I had not sent five
dollars to pay for the oil. It was just what I expected. I knew
that it was his habit to make his priests pay five dollars for that
oil, which was not worth more than two or three cents.

This act of my bishop was one of the many evident cases of
simony of which he was guilty every day. I took his letter,
with my small silver box to the Archbishop of St. Louis, my
Lord Kenrick, before whom I brought my complaints against
the Bishop of Chicago, on the 9th of April, 1856. That high
dignitary told me that many priests of the diocese of Chicago had
already brought the same complaints before him, and exposed
the infamous conduct of their bishop. He agreed with me that
the rapacity of Bishop O'Regan, his thefts, his lies, his acts of
simony, were public and intolerable, but that he had no remedy
for them, and said: "The only thing I advise you to do is to
write to the pope directly. Prove your charges against that
guilty bishop as clearly as possible. I will myself write to corroborate
all you have told me, for I know it is true. My hope
is that your complaints will attract the attention of the pope.
He will probably send some one from Rome to make an inquiry,
and then that wicked man will be forced to offer his resignation.
If you succeed, as I hope, in your praiseworthy efforts to put an
end to such scandals, you will have well deserved the gratitude
of the whole church. For that unprincipled dignitary is the
cause that our holy religion is not only losing her prestige in
the United States, but is becoming an object of contempt whereever
those public crimes are known."

I was, however, forced to postpone my writing to the pope.
For, a few days after my return from St. Louis to my colony, I
had to deliver myself again into the hands of the sheriff of
Kankakee county, who was obliged by Spink to take me
prisoner, and deliver me as a criminal in to the hands of the
sheriff of Champaign county, on the 19th of May, 1856.

It was then that I met Abraham Lincoln for the first
time. He was a giant in stature; but I found him still more a

giant in the noble qualities of his mind and heart. It was impossible
to converse five minutes with him without loving him.
There was such an expression of kindness and honesty in that
face, and such an attractive magnetism in the man; that, after a
few moments' conversation, one felt as tied to him by all the
noblest affections of the heart.

When pressing my hand, he told me: "You were mistaken
when you telegraphed that you were unknown to me. I know
you, by reputation, as the stern opponent of tyranny of your
bishop, and the fearless protector of your countrymen in Illinois.
I have heard much of you from two priests; and, last night,
your lawyers, Messrs. Osgood & Paddock, acquainted me with
the fact that your bishop employs some of his tools to get rid of
you. I hope it will be an easy thing to defeat his projects and
protect you against his machinations."

He then asked me how I had been induced to desire his
services. I answered by giving him the story of that unknown
friend who had advised me to have Mr. Abraham Lincoln for
one of my lawyers, for the reason that "he was the best lawyer
and the most honest man in Illinois." He smiled at my answer,
with that inimitable and unique smile, which we may call the
"Lincoln smile," and replied: "That unknown friend would
surely have been more correct had he told you that Abraham
Lincoln was the ugliest lawyer of the country!" And he laughed
outright.

I spent six long days at Urbana as a criminal, in the hands of
the sheriff, at the feet of my judges. During the greatest part
of that time, all that human language can express of abuse and
insult was heaped on my poor head. God only knows what I
suffered in those days; but I was providentially surrounded, as
by a strong wall, when I had Abraham Lincoln for my defence.
"The best lawyer and the most honest man of Illinois,"
and the learned and upright David Davis for my judge.
The latter became Vice-President of the United States in
1882, and the former its most honored President from 1861 to 1865.

I never heard anything like the eloquence of Abraham Lincoln,

when he demolished the testimonies of the two perjured
priests, Lebel and Carthevel, who, with ten or twelve other
false witnesses, had sworn against me. I would have surely
been declared innocent, after that eloquent address, and the
charge of the learned Judge Davis, had not my lawyers, by a
sad blunder, left a Roman Catholic on the jury. Of course,
that Irish Roman Catholic wanted to condemn me, while the
eleven honest and intelligent Protestants were unanimous in
voting "Not guilty." The court, having at last found that it
was impossible to persuade the jury to give a unanimous verdict,
discharged them. But Spink again forced the sheriff to keep
me prisoner, by obtaining from the court the permission to begin
the prosecution de novo at the term of the fall, the 19th of October,
1856.

Humanly speaking, I would have been one of the most
miserable of men had I not had my dear Bible, which I was
meditating and studying day and night, in those dark days of
trial.

But, though I was then still in the desolate wilderness, far
away yet from the Promised Land, my Heavenly Father never
forsook me. He many times let the sweet manna fall from
heaven to feed my desponding soul, and cheer my fainting heart.
More than once, when I was panting with spiritual thirst, He
brought me near the Rock, from the side of which the living
waters were gushing to refresh and renew my strength and
courage.

Though the world did not suspect it, I knew from the beginning,
that all my tribulations were coming from my unconquerable
attachment and my unfaltering love and respect for
the Bible, as the root and source of every truth given by God to
man; and I felt assured that my God knew it also. That assurance
supported my courage in the conflict. Every day, my
Bible was becoming dearer to me. I was then constantly trying
to walk in its marvellous light and divine teaching. I wanted
to learn my duties and rights. I like to acknowledge that it
was the Bible which gave me the power and wisdom I then so
much needed, to fearlessly face so many foes. That power and

wisdom I felt were not mine. On this very account, my dear
Bible enabled me to remain calm in the very lion's den; and it
gave me, from the very beginning of that terrible conflict, the
assurance of a final victory; for every time I bathed my soul in
its divine light, I heard my merciful heavenly Father's voice
saying, "Fear not, for I am with thee.