“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 miles; 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 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.”