Fifty Years in the Church of Rome

by Charles Paschal Telesphore Chiniquy

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 where-ever 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.”