Fifty Years in the Church of Rome

by Charles Paschal Telesphore Chiniquy

Besides Mr. Varin and his vicar there were three other priests, who were artistically placed in the midst of the most beautiful ladies of the company. The ladies, after honoring us with their presence for an hour or so, left the table and retired to the drawing-room. Scarcely had the last lady disappeared when Mr. Varin rose and said:

“Gentlemen, let us drink to the health of these amiable ladies, whose presence has thrown so many charms over the first part of our little fete.”

Following the example of Mr. Varin, each guest filled and emptied his long wine-glass in honor of the ladies.

Squire Tache then proposed “The health of the most venerable and beloved priest of Canada, the Rev. Mr. Varin.” Again the glasses were filled and emptied, except mine; for I had been placed at the side of my uncle Dionne, who, sternly looking at me as soon as I had emptied my first glass, said: “If you drink another I will send you from the table. A little boy like you should not drink, but only touch the glass with his lips.”

It would have been difficult to count the healths which were drank after the ladies had left us. After each health a song or a story was called for, several of which were followed by applause, shouts of joy, and convulsive laughter.

When my turn to propose a health came I wished to be excused, but they would not exempt me. So I had to say about whose health I was most interested. I rose upon my two short legs, and turning to Mr. Varin, I said, “Let us drink to the health of our Holy Father, the Pope.”

Nobody had yet thought of our Holy Father, the Pope, and the name, mentioned under such circumstances by a child, appeared so droll to the priests and their merry guests that they burst into laughter, stamped their feet and shouted, “Bravo! bravo! To the health of the Pope!” Everyone stood up, and at the invitation of Mr. Varin, the glasses were filled and emptied as usual.

So many healths could not be drunk without their natural effect—intoxication. The first that was overcome was a priest, Noel by name. He was a tall man, and a great drinker. I had noticed more than once, that instead of taking his wine-glass he drank from a large tumbler. The first symptoms of his intoxication, instead of drawing sympathy from his friends, only increased their noisy bursts of laughter. He endeavored to take a bottle to fill his glass, but his hand shook, and the bottle, falling on the floor, was broken to pieces. Wishing to keep up his merriment he began to sing a Bacchic song, but could not finish. He dropped his head on the table, quite overcome, and trying to rise, he fell heavily upon his chair. While all this took place the other priests and all the guests looked at him, laughing loudly. At last, making a desperate effort, he rose, but after taking two or three steps, fell headlong on the floor. His two neighbors went to help him, but they were not in a condition to help him. Twice they rolled with him under the table. At length another, less affected by the fumes of wine, took him by the feet and dragged him into an adjoining room, where they left him.

This first scene seemed strange enough to me, for I had never before seen a priest intoxicated. But what astonished me most was the laughter of the other priests over that spectacle. Another scene, however, soon followed which made me sadder. My young companion and friend, Achilles Tache, had not been warned, as I had, only to touch the wine with his lips. More than once he had emptied his glass. He also rolled upon the floor before the eyes of his father, who was too full of wine to help him. He cried aloud, “I am choking!” I tried to lift him up, but I was not strong enough. I ran for his mother. She came, accompanied by another lady, but the vicar had carried him into another room, where he fell asleep after having thrown off the wine he had taken.

Poor Achilles! he was learning, in the house of his own priest, to take the first step of that life of debauchery and drunkenness which twelve or fifteen years later was to rob him of his manor, take from him his wife and children, and to make him fall a victim to the bloody hand of a murderer upon the solitary shores of Kamouraska!