A Tale of the Acadians: Chapter 1: Acadia Lost!

Acadia! A land flourishing with pine and hemlock trees, seas stocked with fish and mines full of coal and other ores. It was a paradise, since Acadia was named for the Greek province of Arcadia, a pastoral paradise-like area. However, there was trouble brewing in paradise. In 1604, Samuel de Champlain, a Frenchman, and a band of seventy-nine settlers who attempted to found a settlement, but they later abandoned their settlement. In the 1610’s, Acadia was later repopulated with Frenchmen, along with the conversion of the Micmac Indians to Catholicism. The settlers and the Micmac became mutual friends, and many of the French intermarried with the Micmac. The Wars of Religion between the Catholics and the Calvinist Huguenots took its toll on France and Acadia saw a large influx of settlers who escaped the war in 1632. About the same time, the English planned to establish their own colony in Acadia, calling it Nova Scotia or New Scotland. The colony failed and the English abandoned their plans. Then in 1654, war broke out between France and England. The English captured Acadia, but it was later returned to French control. The French would loose Acadia by the Treaty of Utrecht, which ended the War of The Spanish Succession. Acadia was now known as Nova Scotia. When the French and Indian War broke out in 1754, the governor of Nova Scotia, Charles Lawrence, seriously doubted if the Crown’s new subjects would take up arms against their fellow citizens. He ordered the Acadians to take an oath of alliance to the King, George II. The Acadians refused, primarily because the oath required them to renounce a key article of the Faith. Lawrence ordered a mass exodus of the Acadians, scattering them throughout Eastern seaboard colonies, so that the Acadians would not be a threat. It was said that marriages between the English and the Acadians were very rare, with both sides resenting the couple. This story is about one of these marriages. It was on the twenty-eighth of October in the year of Our Lord One thousand seven hundred fifty-five that the beginning of this couple’s legacy occurred. A young man and a young woman walked trough the forests near the village of Ste-Anne, near the city of Halifax in Nova Scotia. They laughed as they strolled under the Acadian pines and hemlocks. The man’s name was George Cook. He was a French Acadian peasant who was seventeen years old. He was a tall man, with black hair and brown eyes. He wore a white shirt, brown pants, and brown shoes. He was an honest-hard-working man, who would help anyone if they needed it. He was also a devout Catholic. His mother, Agnes, had died of an incurable disease a year earlier, his father, Pierre, and his brother, Joseph, had died in a Acadian opposition riot a year earlier, making George an orphan along with his twin sister, Genevieve. He did get a bit of an education, from his family before they died, enough that he could read the Bible in French. The woman’s name was Joan Madison. She was an elegant Englishwoman of sixteen years of age. She was a refined, but courageous woman, with blonde hair and green eyes. She wore a green dress, a white shawl, and a crucifix around her neck. She was well learned, thanks to her father’s wealth. She knew Latin and French. French was necessary so that she could speak to George and the other Acadians. She was a good gardener, knew many military strategies, taught to her by her father, and was a devout Catholic, thanks to her mother, who secretly raised her in the Faith. She was an accomplished painter and a harpsichord player. She spoke with an Estuary accent (though when she spoke formally, she used the Received Pronunciation). George and Joan were in love with each other. They met a year earlier, and began to court a month after their first meeting. Joan’s father, Sir John Madison, did not approve of their affair at all (for he believed it was not right for a noblewoman to married to a common man). However, his wife, Lady Pauline Madison, who was a Catholic, approved their proposed marriage. Lady Madison had arraigned for her daughter and her fiancé transport to Ste-Joseph City, a small town in the Louisiana Territory, not to far from New Orleans. George and Joan sat under a tree and relaxed. Then George spoke: “I am glad your mother has put up the money to send us to Louisiana. No one in Halifax, Dartmouth, or Ste-Anne was willing to book us passage there. They all thought we were crazy or something,” said George. “Have you got any support from the people of Ste-Anne?” Joan asked. “Just a few people. The townspeople don’t think that the British will do anything,” George replied. He paused for a moment, and then spoke: “Your know that marrying, and leaving with me, that you have angered you father? You know that he doesn’t like me, a French peasant, out with a noble English woman like you anyway. He wants you to be married to one of those highborn Englishmen.” “He probably would, but I think the poor are my friends. Besides, I like you better.” “Merci for the complement, Joan. Let us go to Halifax as the British have ordered us, then if the rumor is true, we can get married and go to Louisiana.” The two made their way to the city hall. Another couple came over to them. Joan said to George: “There’s Tom Bakerson and Rosalind Wilson.” Tom and Rosalind approached George and Joan. Tom Bakerson was a noble lad of nineteen years, with curly brown hair and green eyes. He wore light blue pants, a white shirt, a green waistcoat, and a green coat. Rosalind Wilson was a lady of eighteen who had blue eyes and brown hair. She wore a white dress and her hair was in a ponytail. These two were friends with Joan-somewhat. They did not approve of her proposed marriage to George. “Well if it isn’t Joan Madison and her Rag Doll,” said Tom as he chuckled. “Tom his name is George Cook,” said Joan. “Nobody calls me Rag Doll! When we get to Ste-Joseph City, Monsieur Bakerson, Joan will be known as Joan Cook,” said George. “By the time you arrive in Ste-Joseph City, Mr. Cook, your lovely wife will be a nasty wench,” said Rosalind. “Hold your tongue, Mademoiselle Wilson. Joan wishes to be to be my wife and she wishes to work this earth with me,” George said. “Hold your tongue, Mr. Cook. I am a noblewoman. You are just a peasant,” Rosalind replied. “I am not a peasant. I am a human being, equally created by the Lord God Almighty in His own image. You are too, Mademoiselle Wilson. George said angrily. Tom and Rosalind walked away from the stable, laughing and chanting Shakespeare: “To-whit, to-who, a merry note While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.” “How are we going to get married before we get to Ste-Joseph City?” asked Joan. “We’ll just have to get married before we leave.” Said George as they joined hands and walked towards the town hall knowing that going in would send them on an adventure. George, Joan, and Many of the Acadians entered the town hall. The Governor, Charles Lawrence, spoke to the people. He was forty-seven years old, had brown hair, and green eyes. He hated the Acadians and wished to get rid of them. “Will you or will you not take an oath of allegiance to his majesty, the King of England.” He went down the long line of the people. Many said no and others shook their heads. George and Joan were in the middle. All said no. “You leave me no choice but to exile all of you. All of your lands, dwellings, and cattle are forfeited to the crown. Depart from me now.” The Acadians left Halifax for their town of Ste-Anne. At night, George spoke to his fellow townsfolk: “People of Ste-Anne we have said no to the king’s demands. Tomorrow me, Joan, and whoever wants to go with us can join us on our voyage to Louisiana” “Fine with me. I will go,” said Jacques Bellefontaine. He was twenty years old, had blonde hair and brown eyes. He wore a white shirt and a red and black-checkered jacket. He wore a brown hat and smoked a pipe. “Count me in,” said Rene Dubois. He was twenty-one years old, had long brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a brown coat brown pants and a white shirt. He carried a flintlock pistol, and like Jacques smoked a pipe. About seven families and a few bachelors decided to go. After George finished, he turned around and stared right in the eyes of Sir John Madison. Mr. Madison was a Lt. Colonial in the British army as well as the Lt.-Governor of Nova Scotia. He was about forty, a thin and tall man, who had green eyes and brown hair. He wore a white shirt, blue pants, a blue waistcoat, and a blue coat. “Father!” exclaimed Joan in horror. “Monsieur Madison what a pleasure to see you,” said George. “Did I give you permission to see my daughter?” Mr. Madison asked. “Non,” said George. “But father, we are going to be married,” said Joan. “That’s insane,” replied Mr. Madison “Not to me,” said George. “Quiet, runt. Since this is the third time, I’ve caught you with this worthless, unintelligent commoner, I’ve decided to lock you up in your room.” “No, Father!” begged Joan. “Oh yes. Joan, come with me.” Mr. Madison turned to George. “If I ever see you with my daughter again, I will have you hung.” He took his daughter by the arm and led her home. Joan looked back and blew her beloved a kiss. George waved to her. However, Madison turned up his nose and escorted his daughter home. When they reached home, Joan sat down on the sofa in the common room. “Joan, I want a truthful answer from you,” said Joan’s father. “Yes, father,” was her reply. “Why do wish to be with that common man?” “Because I love him.” “I know that, but why? Mr. Madison asked. “Just a few years back I behaved like you, Father. After I met George, I began to like the peasants and began to give the aristocratic life up. Now I will not stop until I am his,” Joan replied. “Just like your mother. I do not know why I married her. I guess I only married her because of her dowry. I did not even know she was Catholic. You have become like her, Christian like, not the aristocratic type.” “Is that all care about, father, money. Mother taught me ‘Not to judge someone before you know them,’” “You have got a point there, Joannie. Nevertheless, I want you married to an Englishman. Therefore, The Governor of Williamsburg is supposed to come today. If he accepts my offer, he will marry you. Ah, here he is now. Aldus Elton! How are you? “As usual, John, I am working hard to govern Williamsburg and the General Assembly is in an uproar. I got your message about your daughter and I would like to court her,” said Mr. Elton. He was thirty years old, had brown hair, and hazel eyes. He wore a white shirt, green pants, a green waistcoat, and dark green coat. “Good man. This is my daughter, Joan Mary Madison.” Mr. Madison turned to Joan. “Joan, this is Sir Aldus Elton, Governor of Williamsburg, Virginia Colony. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Madison,” Aldus said as he bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you too, Your Grace,” said Joan as she curtseyed. She hurried up to her room. Mr. Madison turned to Mr. Elton and asked: “Lovely girl is she not?” “Yes she is,” Mr. Elton replied. “Now let us talk about your offers.” The two men went into Mr. Madison’s study. Joan rushed up to her room and locked the door. She threw herself on her bed and cried. She was to get married to George in a matter of hours, but now her father had arranged a marriage for her. She went for a drawer and pulled out a rosary she was given to her by her uncle, a Carmelite friar who was living in Aylesford. Joan began to pray, but as she prayed, she began to think about the past few years. She started with when she and George first met. To Be Continued...