University of Virginia Library

Chapter XXXI.

CHAMBERS AND HIS ACCOMPLICES CONDEMNED TO DEATH—
ASKED ME TO PREPARE THEM TO MEET THEIR TERRIBLE
FATE—A WEEK IN THEIR DUNGEON—THEIR SENTENCE OF
DEATH CHANGED INTO DEPORTATION TO BOTANY BAY—
THEIR DEPARTURE FOR EXILE—I MEET ONE OF THEM, A SINCERE
CONVERT, VERY RICH, IN A HIGH AND HONORABLE
POSITION IN AUSTRALIA IN 1878.

A FEW days after the strange and providential night spent
with the repentant thieves, I received the following letter
signed by Chambers and his unfortunate criminal friends:

I will not attempt to say what I felt when I entered the
damp and dark cells where the culprits were enchained. No
human words can express those things. Their tears and their
sobs were going through my heart as a two-edged sword. Only
one of them had, at first, his eyes dried, and kept silent; Chambers,
the most guilty of all.

After the others had requested me to hear the confession of
their sins, and prepare them for death, Chambers said: "You
know that I am a Protestant. But I am married to a Roman
Catholic, who is your penitent. You have persuaded my two
so dear sisters to give up their Protestantism and become Catholics.
I have many times desired to follow them. My criminal
life alone has prevented me from doing so. But now I am determined
to do what I consider to be the will of God in this important
matter. Please, tell me what I must do to become a Catholic."

I was a sincere Roman Catholic priest, believing that out of
the Church of Rome there was no salvation. The conversion of
that great sinner seemed to me a miracle of the grace of God: it

was for me a happy distraction in the desolation I felt in that
dungeon.

I spent the next eight days, in hearing their confessions, reading
the lives of some saints, with several chapters of the Bible
as the Seven Penitential Psalms, the sufferings and death of
Christ, the history of the Prodigal Son, etc. And I instructed
Chambers, as well as the shortness of the time allowed me, in
the faith of the Church of Rome. I usually entered the cells at
about 9 A. M. and left them only at 9 P. M.

After I had spent much time in exhorting them, reading and
praying several times, I asked them to tell me some of the
details of the murders and thefts they had committed, which
might be to me as a lesson of human depravity, which would
help me when preaching on the natural corruption and malice of
the human heart, when once the fear and the love, or even the
faith in God, were completely set aside.

The facts I then heard very soon convinced me of the need
we have of a religion, and what would become of the world if
the atheists could succeed in sweeping away the notions of a
future punishment after death, or the fear and the love of God
from among men.

When absolutely left to his own depravity, without any
religion to stop him on the rapid declivity of his uncontrollable
passions, man is more cruel than the wild beasts. The existence
of society, would simply be impossible without a religion and a
God to protect it.

Though I am in favor of liberty of conscience, in its highest
sense, I think that the atheist ought to be punished like the murderer
and the thief—for his doctrines tend to make a murderer
and a thief of every man. No law, no society is possible if there
is no God to sanction and protect them.

But the more we were approaching the fatal day, when I
had to go on the scaffold with those unfortunate men, and to see
them launched into eternity, the more I felt horrified. The tears
the sobs and the cries of those unfortunate men had so melted
my heart, my soul and my strong nerves, they had so subdued
my unconquerable will and that stern determination to do my

duty at any cost, which had been my character till then, that I
was shaking from head to feet, when thinking of that awful hour.

Besides that, my constant intercourse with those criminals,
these last few days, their unbounded confidence in me, their
gratitude for my devotedness to them, their desolation and their
cries when speaking of their fathers or mothers, wives or children,
had filled my heart with a measure of sympathy which I
would vainly try to express. They were no more thieves and
murderers, to me, whose bloody deeds had at first chilled the
blood in my veins; they were the friends of my bosom—the
beloved children whom cruel beasts had wounded. They were
dearer to me than my own life—not only I felt happy to mix
my tears with theirs, and unite my ardent prayers to God for
mercy with them, but I would have felt happy to shed my blood
in order to save their lives. As several of them belonged to the
most reputable families of Quebec and vicinity, I thought I could
easily interest the clergy and the most respectable citizens to sign
a petition to the governor, Lord Gosford, asking him to change
their sentence of death into one of perpetual exile to the distant
penal colony of Botany Bay, in Australia. The governor was
my friend. Colonel Vassal, who was my uncle, and the adjutant-general
of the miltia of the whole country, had introduced
me to his Excellency, who many times had overloaded me with
the marks of his interest and kindness, and my hope was that he
would not refuse me the favor I was to ask him, when the petition
would be signed by the Bishop, the Catholic priests, the
ministers of the different Protestant denominations of the city,
and hundreds of the principal citizens of Quebec. I presented
the petition myself, accompanied by the secretary of the Archbishop.
But to my great distress, the governor answered me that
those men had committed so many murders, and kept the country
in terror for so many years, that it was absolutely necessary
they should be punished according to the sentence of the court.
Who can tell the desolation of those unfortunate men, when,
with a voice choked by my sobs and my tears, I told them that
the governor had refused to grant the favor I had asked him for
them. They fell on the ground and filled their cells with cries

which would have broken the hardest heart. From those very
cells we were hearing the noise of the men who were preparing
the scaffold where they were to be hanged the next day. I tried
to pray and read, but was unable to do so. My desolation was
too great to utter a single word. I felt as if I were to be hanged
with them—and to say the whole truth, I think I would have
been glad to hear that I was to be hanged the next day to save
their lives. For there was a fear in me, which was hunting me
as a phantom from hell, the last three days. It seemed that, in
spite of all my efforts, prayers, confessions, absolutions and sacraments,
these men were not converted, and that they were to be
launched into eternity with all their sins.

When I was comparing the calm and true repentance of the
two thieves, with whom I spent the night a few weeks before in
the carriage, with the noisy expressions of sorrow of these newly
converted sinners, I could not help finding an immeasurable distance
between the first and the second of those penitents. No
doubt had remained in my mind about the first, but I had serious
apprehensions about the last. Several circumstances, which it
would be too long and useless to mention here, were depressing
me by the fear that all my chaplets, indulgences, medals, scapulars,
holy waters, signs of the cross, prayers to the Virgin, auricular
confessions, absolutions, used in the conversion of these sinners,
had not the divine and perfect power of a simple look to
the dying Saviour on the cross. I was saying to myself, with
anxiety: "Would it be possible that those Protestants, who
were with me in the carriage, had the true ways of repentance,
pardon, peace and life eternal in that simple look to the great
victim, and that we Roman Catholics, with our signs of the cross
and holy waters, our crucifixes and prayers to the saints, our
scapulars and medals, our so humiliating auricular confession,
were only distracting the mind, the soul and the heart of the sinner
from the true and only source of salvation, Christ!" In the
midst of those distressing thoughts, I almost regretted having
helped Chambers in giving up his Protestantism for my
Romanism.

At about 4 P. M. I made a supreme effort to shake off my

desolation, and nerve myself for the solemn duties God had
intrusted to me. I put a few questions to those desolated men,
to see if they were really repentant and converted. Their answers
added to my fears that I had spoken too much of the
virgins and the saints, the indulgences, medals and scapulars, integrity
of confession, and not enough of Christ dying on the
cross for them. It is true, I had spoken of Christ and his death
to them, but this had been so much mixed up with exhortation
to trust in Mary, put their confidence in their medals, scapulars,
confessions, etc., that it became almost evident to me that, in our
religion, Christ was like a precious pearl lost in a mountain of
sand and dust. This fear soon caused my distress to be unbearable.

I then went to the private, neat little room, which the gaoler
had kindly allotted to me, and I fell on my knees to pray God
for myself and for my poor convicts. Though this prayer
brought some calm to my mind, my distress was still very great.
It was then that the thought came again to my mind to go to the
governor and make a new and supreme effort to have the sentence
of death changed into that of perpetual exile to Botany
Bay: and without a moment of delay, I went to his palace.

It was about 7 P. M. when he reluctantly admitted me to his
presence, telling me, when shaking hands, "I hope, Mr. Chiniquy,
you are not coming to renew your request of the morning,
for I cannot grant it."

Without a word of answer, I fell on my knees, and for more
than ten minutes I spoke as I had never spoken before. I spoke
as we speak when we are the ambassadors of God in a message
of mercy. I spoke with my lips. I spoke with my tears. I
spoke with my sobs and cries. I spoke with my supplicating
hands lifted to heaven. For some time, the governor was mute,
and as if stunned. He was not only a noble-minded man, but
he had a most tender, affectionate and kind heart. His tears
soon began to flow with mine, and his sobs mixed with my sobs;
with a voice, half suffocated by his emotion, he extended his
friendly hand, and said:

"Father Chiniquy, you ask me a favor which I ought not to

give, but I cannot resist your arguments, when your tears, your
sobs, and your cries are like arrows which pierce and break my
heart. I will give you the favor you ask."

It was nearly 10 P. M. when I knocked at the door of the
gaoler, asking his permission to see my dear friends in their cells,
to tell them that I had obtained their pardon, that they would not
die. That gentleman could hardly believe me. It was only after
reading twice the document I had in my hands that he saw that
I told him the truth.

Looking at the parchment again, he said: "Have you noticed
that it is covered and almost spoiled by the spots evidently made
with the tears of the governor. You must be a kind of a sorcerer
to have melted the heart of such a man, and have wrenched from
his hands the pardon of such convicts; for I know he was absolutely
unwilling to grant the pardon."

"I am not a sorcerer," I answered. "But you remember that
our Saviour Jesus Christ had said, somewhere, that he had
brought a fire from heaven—well, it is evident that he has
thrown some sparks of that fire into my poor heart, for it was so
fiercely burning when I was at the feet of the governor, that I
think I would have died at his feet, had he not granted me that
favor. No doubt that some sparks of that fire have also fallen on
his soul and in his heart when I was speaking, for his cries, his
tears and his sobs were filling his room, and showing that he was
suffering as well as myself. It was that he might not be consumed
by that fire that he granted my request. I am now the most
happy man under heaven. Please, make haste. Come with me
and open the cells of those unfortunate men that that I may tell
what our merciful God has done for them." When entering
their desolated cells I was unable to contain myself. I cried out:
"Rejoice, and bless the Lord, my dear friends! You will not die
to-morrow! I bring you your pardon with me!"

Two of them fainted, and came very near dying from excess
of surprise and joy. The others, unable to contain their emotions,
were crying and weeping for joy. They threw their arms around
me to press me to their bosom, kiss my hands and cover them
with their tears of joy. I knelt with them and thanked God,

after which I told them how they must promise to God to serve
him faithfully, after such a manifestation of his mercies. I read
to them the 100th, 101st, 102d, and 103d Psalms, and I left them
after twelve o'clock at night to go and take some rest. I was in
need of it after a whole day of such work and emotions.

The next day, I wanted to see my dear prisoners early, and I
was with them at 7 A. M. As the whole country had been
glad to hear that they were to be hanged that very day, the
crowds were beginning to gather at that early hour to witness
the death of those great culprits. The feelings of indignation
were almost unmanageable, when they heard that they were not
to be hanged, but only to be exiled for their life to Botany Bay.
For a time, it was feared that the mob would break the doors of
the gaol and lynch the culprits. Though very few priests were
more respected and loved by the people, they would have probably
torn me into pieces when they heard that it was I who had deprived
the gibbet of its victims, that day. The chief of police
had to take extraordinary measures to prevent the wrath of the
mob from doing mischief. He advised me not to show myself
for a few days, in the streets.

More than a month passed before all the thieves and murderers
in Canada, to the number of about seventy, who had been
sentenced to be exiled to Botany Bay, could be gathered into the
ship which was to take them into that distant land. I thought it
was my duty, during that interval, to visit my penitents in goa
every day, and instruct them on the duties of the new life they
were called upon to live. When the day of their departure
arrived, I gave a Roman Catholic New Testament, translated by
DeSacy, to each of them to read and meditate on their long and
tedious journey, and I bade them adieu, recommending them to
the mercy of God, and the protection of the Virgin Mary and
all the saints. Some months, later, I heard that, on the sea,
Chambers had cut loose his chains and those of some of his companions,
with the intention of taking possession of the ship, and
escaping on some distant shore. But he had been betrayed, and
was hanged on his arrival at Liverpool.

I had almost lost sight of those emotional days of my young

years of priesthood. Those facts were silently lying among the
big piles of the daily records, which I had faithfully kept since
the very days of my collegiate life at Nicolet, when, in 1878, the
Rev. George Sutherland, Presbyterian minister, of Sydney, invited
me in the name of the noble-hearted Orangemen and many
other Christians of that great country, to go and lecture in Australia.
They accompanied their invitation with a check of £100
for the traveling expenses from Chicago to that distant land, and
I accepted their kind invitation.

Some time after my arrival, when I was lecturing in one of
the young and thriving cities of that country, whose future destinies
promise to be so great, a rich carross, drawn by two splendid
English horses, driven by two men en livre, stopped before the
house where I had put up for a few days. A venerable gentleman
alighted from the carriage and knocked at the door, as I was
looking at him from the window. I went to the door, to save
trouble to my host, and I opened it. In saluting me, the stranger
said: "Is Father Chiniquy here?"

"Yes, sir," I answered. "Father Chiniquy is the guest of
this family."

"Could I have the honor of a few minute's conversation with
him?" replied the old gentleman.

"As I am Father Chiniquy, I can, at once, answer you that
I will feel much pleasure in granting your request."

"Oh, dear Father Chiniquy," quickly replied the stranger,
"is it possible that it is you? Can I be absolutely alone with
you for half an hour, without any one to see and hear us?"

"Certainly," I said; "my comfortable rooms are upstairs, and
I am absolutely alone there. Please, sir, come and follow me."

When alone, the stranger said: "Do you not know me?"

"How can I know you, sir," I answered. "I do not even
remember ever having seen you."

"You have not only seen me, but you have heard the confession
of my sins, many times; and you have spent many hours in
the same room with me," replied the old gentleman.

"Please tell me where and when I have seen you, and also
be kind enough to give your name: for all those things have
escaped from my memory."

"Do you remember the murderer and thief, Chambers, who
was condemned to death in Quebec, in 1837, with eight of his
accomplices?" asked the stranger.

"Yes, sir; I remember well Chambers, and the unfortunate
men he was leading in the ways of iniquity," I replied.

"Well, dear Father Chiniquy, I am one of the criminals
who filled Canada with terror, for several years, and who were
caught and rightly condemned to death. When condemned, we
selected you for our father confessor, with the hope that through
your influence we might escape the gallows; and we were not
disappointed. You obtained our pardon; the sentence of death
was commuted into a life of exile to Botany Bay. My name in
Canada was A—, but here they call me B—. God has
blessed me since in many ways; but it is to you I owe my life,
and all the privileges of my present existence. After God, you
are my saviour. I come to thank and bless you for what you
have done for me."

In saying that, he threw himself into my arms, pressed me
to his heart, and bathed my face and my hands with tears of
joy and gratitude.

But his joy did not exceed mine, and my surprise was equal
to my joy to find him apparently in such good circumstances.
After I had knelt with him to thank and bless God for what I
had heard, I asked him to relate to me the details of his strange
and marvellous story. Here is a short resume of his answer:

"After you had given us your last benediction, when on
board the ship which was to take us from Quebec to Botany
Bay, the first thing I did was to open the New Testament you
had given me and the other culprits, with the advice to read it
with a praying heart. It was the first time in my life I had
that book in my hand. You were the only priest in Canada
who would put such a book in the hands of common people.
But I must confess that its first reading did not do me much
good, for I read it more to amuse myself and satisfy my
curiosity, than through any good and Christian motive. The
only good I received from that first reading, was that I clearly
understood, for the first time, why the priests of Rome fear and

hate that book, and why they take it out of the hands of their
parishioners when they hear that they have it. It was in vain
that I looked for mass, indulgence, chaplets, purgatory, auricular
confession, Lent, holy waters, the worship of Mary, or prayers
in an unknown tongue. I concluded from my first reading of
the Gospel that our priests were very wise to prevent us from
reading a book which was really demolishing our Roman Catholic
Church, and felt surprised that you had put in our hands a
book which seemed to me so opposed to the belief and practice
of our religion as you taught it to us when in gaol, and my confidence
in your good judgment was much shaken. To tell you
the truth, the first reading of the Gospel went far to demolish
my Roman Catholic faith, and to make a wreck of the religion
taught me by my parents, and at the college, and even by you.
For a few weeks, I became more of a skeptic than anything else.
The only good that first reading of the Holy Book did me was
to give me more serious thoughts and prevent me from uniting
myself to Chambers and his conspirators in their foolish plot for
taking possession of the ship and escaping to some unknown and
distant shore. He had been shrewd enough to conceal a very
small, but exceedingly sharp saw, between his toes before coming
to the ship, with which he had already cut the chains of eighteen
of the prisoners, when he was betrayed and hanged on his
arrival at Liverpool.

"But if my first reading of the Gospel did not do me much
good, I cannot say the same thing of the second. I remember
that, when handing to us that holy book, you had told us never
to read it except after a fervent prayer to God for help and light
to understand it. I was really tired of my former life. In giving
up the fear and the love of God, I had fallen into the deepest
abyss of human depravity and misery, till I had come very
near ending my life on the scaffold. I felt the need of a change.
You had often repeated to us the words of our Saviour, `Come
unto me all ye who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give
you rest;' but, with all the other priests, you had always mixed
those admirable and saving words with the invocation of Mary,
the confidence in our medals, scapulars, signs of the cross, holy

waters, indulgences, auricular confessions, that the sublime appeal
of Christ had always been, as it always will be, drowned
in the Church of Rome by those absurd and impious superstitions
and practices.

"One morning, after I had spent a sleepless night, and feeling
as pressed down under the weight of my sins, I opened my
gospel book, after an ardent prayer for light and guidance, and
my eyes fell on these words of John, `Here is the Lamb of God,
who takes away the sins of the world!' These words fell upon
my poor guilty soul with a divine, irresistible power. With tears
and cries of an unspeakable desolation, I spent the day in crying,
`O Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world, have
mercy upon me! Take away my sins!' The day was not over,
when I felt and knew that my cries had been heard at the mercy-seat.
The Lamb of God had taken away my sins! He had
changed my heart and made quite a new man of me. From
that day, the reading of the Gospel was to my soul what bread
is to the poor, hungry man, and what pure and refreshing waters
are to the thirsty traveler. My joy, my unspeakable joy, was to
read the holy book, and speak with my companions in chains of
the dear Saviour's love for the poor sinners; and, thanks be to
God, a good number of them have found Him altogether
precious, and have been sincerely converted in the dark holds of
that ship. When working hard at Sydney with the other culprits,
I felt my chains to be as light as feathers when I was sure
that the heavy chains of my sins were gone; and though working
hard under a burning sun from morning till night, I felt
happy, and my heart was full of joy when I was sure that my
Saviour had prepared a throne for me in His kingdom, and that
He had brought a crown of eternal glory for me by dying on
the cross to redeem my guilty soul.

"I had hardly spent a year in Australia, in the midst of the
convicts, when a minister of the Gospel, accompanied by another
gentleman, came to me and said: "Your perfectly good behavior
and your Christian life has attracted the attention and admiration
of the authorities, and the governor sends us to hand you this
document, which says you are no more a criminal before the law,

but that you have your pardon, and you can live the life of an
honorable citizen, by continuing to walk in the ways of God.'
After speaking so, the gentlemen put one hundred dollars in my
hands, and added: `Go and be a faithful follower of the Lord
Jesus, and God Almighty will bless you and make you prosper
in all your ways.' All this seemed to me as a dream or vision
from heaven. I would hardly believe my ears and my eyes.
But it was not a dream, it was a reality. My merciful Heavenly
Father had again heard my humble supplications; after having
taken away the heavy chains of my sins, He had mercifully
taken away the chains which wounded my feet and my hands.
I spent several days and nights in weeping and crying for joy,
and in blessing the God of my salvation, Jesus the redeemer of
my soul and my body.

"Some years after that, we heard of the discoveries of the
rich gold mines in several parts of Australia.

"After having prayed God to guide me, I bought a bag of
hard crackers, a ham and cheese, and started for the mines in
company with several who were going, like myself, in search of
gold. But I soon preferred to be alone. For I wanted to pray
and to be united to my God, even when walking. After a long
march, I reached a beautiful spot, between three small hills, at
the foot of which a little brook was running down toward the
plain below. The sun was scorching, there was no shade, and I
was much tired, I sat on a flat stone to take my dinner, and
quenched my thirst with the water of the brook. I was eating
and blessing my God at the same time for His mercies, when
suddenly my eyes fell on a stone by the brook, which was about
the size of a goose egg. But the rays of the sun were dancing
on the stone, as if it had been a mirror. I went and picked it up.
The stone was almost all gold of the purest kind! It was almost
enough to make me rich. I knelt to thank and bless God for
this new token of his mercy toward me, and I began to look
around to see if I could not find some new pieces of the precious
metal, and you may imagine my joy, when I found that the
ground was not only literally covered with pieces of gold of
every size, from half an inch to the smallest dimensions, but that

the very sand, in great part, was composed of gold. In a very short
time, it was the will of God that I could carry to the bank particles
of gold to the value of several thousand pounds. I continued
to cover myself with rags and have old boots on, in order
not to excite the suspicion of any one on the fortune which I
was accumulating so rapidly. When I had about £80,000 deposited
in the banks, a gentleman offered me £80,000 more for
my claim, and I sold it. The money was invested by me on a
piece of land which soon became the site of an important city,
and I soon became one of the wealthy men of Australia. I then
began to study hard and improve the little education I had received
in Canada. I married, and my God has made me father
of several children. The people where I settled with my fortune
and wife, not knowing my antecedents, have raised me to
the first dignities of the place. Please, dear Mr. Chiniquy, come
and take dinner with me, to-morrow, that I may show you my
house and some of my other properties, and also that I may introduce
you to my wife and children. But let me ask the favor
not to make them suspect that you have known me in Canada,
for they think I am an European." When telling me his marvellous
adventures, which I am obliged to condense and abridge,
his voice was, many times, choked by his emotion his tears and
his sobs, and more than once he had to stop. As for me, I was
absolutely beside myself with admiration at the mysterious ways
through which God leads his elect, in all ages. Now, I understand
why my God had given me such a marvellous power over
the governor of Canada, when I wrenched your pardon from
his hands almost in spite of himself, I said: "That merciful God
wanted to save you, and you are saved! May his name be forever
blessed."

The next day, it was my privilege to be with his
family, at dinner. And never have I seen a more happy
mother, and a more interesting family. The long table was
actually surrounded by them. After dinner, he showed me
his beautiful garden and his rich palace, after which, throwing
himself into my arms, he said: "Dear Father Chiniquy,
all those things belong to you. It is to you, after God, that I

owe my life, all the blessings of a large and Christian family,
and the honor of the high position I have in this
country. May the God of Heaven for ever bless you for
what you have done for me." I answered him: "Dear
friend, you owe me nothing, I have been nothing but a feeble
instrument of the mercies of God toward you. To that great
and merciful God alone be the praise and the glory. Please ask
your family to come here and join with us in singing to the
praise of God the 103d Psalm." And we sang together: "Praise
the Lord, O my soul, and let all that is within me praise His holy
name.

"He hath not dealth with us after our sins, nor rewarded us
according to our iniquities.

"For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his
mercy toward them that fear him.

"As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed
our transgressions from us.

"Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth
them that fear Him."

After the singing of that hymn, I bade him adieu for the
second time, never to meet him again except in that Promised
Land, where we will sing the eternal Alleluia around the throne
of the Lamb, who was slain for us, and who redeemed us all in
His blood.