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Tag Archives: John Bessac

JOHN BESSAC’S GRANDSON CLOSES THE STORY

24 Thursday May 2012

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Abraam Storms, American revolution, Anah Bessac, Chenango County, Chenango Forks, Chenango River, Fur Trader, George Park, Greene NY, Henry Birdsall, John Bessac, Madrid, North Fenton, Priest, Privateer, Royal Guard

John Bessac’s grandson Benjamin L. Bessac gave the introduction to this story with a short note. See the bottom of the following post.

https://waldotomosky.wordpress.com/2012/04/13/the-story-of-jean-guilliame-de-besse-1760-1824/ 

It would be proper, I believe, to allow Benjamin L. Bessac speak to us from his notes of July 30, 1863, written in Albion, NY.

My grandfather had eight children, four sons and four daughters, of whom all but one survived him. His widow [Anah] died at the city of Hudson on the Eleventh day of February, 1834, aged seventy-seven years.

[One paragraph is set aside for each child. Each paragraph gives the details of each child, their spouses and their children.]

It only remains for me to add a few personal recollections of one of the noblest men I have ever known. I first saw him in the spring of 1816 at my father’s house in Tioga County. He was then in his fifty-eighth year, about five feet ten inches high, straight as an arrow, and perfect in form and features; his face was bronzed by exposure, but his eye was as keen as the eagle’s, and his chestnut hair, without a stripe of grey, hung in curls about his neck. His movements were light and rapid, and his language as polished as that of an officer of the reign of Louis the Grand. He was as courteously polite to the pauper, who begged his bread by the wayside, as he would have been to the proudest monarch on earth. He was a man of unusual physical power, and was endowed with a constitution of iron. It was my good fortune to go with him to his home on the Chenango River, where I remained for some months, following him about on his daily walks about the farm and listening to his instructive and most entertaining conversation. In the cool evenings of that cold summer, when the rambles of the day were over, it was a pleasure never to be forgotten to sit near him by the cheerful fire and listen to the reminiscences of his eventful life – – – a life that had been passed in France, Spain and America, upon the sea and the land, and covering the overthrow of the Bourbon Dynasty, the crash of the French Revolution, the rise and fall of the great Napoleon, and the glorious uprising of this great and, then, happy and prosperous nation; “all of which he saw and part of which he was.” He told me of Louis the Sixteenth, and the good Lafayette, of Rochambeau, and Washington, of Kosciuszko and Pulaski, of the sunny slopes and smiling valleys of his beloved France; of his mother in that beautiful land, who he reverenced almost to idolatry; of Spain, the land of rugged mountains and sparking rivers, immortalized by the song of the Troubadour, and of his wanderings and romantic life and adventures. So the evenings would glide away until the small hours of the night, when he would rise from his chair, and with courteous obeisance, retire. I saw him again in the fall of 1817, a few weeks only, and then for the last time on earth. The disease of which he died had begun its fatal work upon his iron frame; his step was less elastic, his face appeared care-worn and tinged with a shade of sadness entirely unusual. I was about returning to the eastern part of the State to commence my education, and he walked from his house with me to the river and ferried me across. We went up the bank together, and then he gave me his blessing and turned away. May God so direct my footsteps on earth that I shall meet him in the realm above the stars, where the weary are at rest.

When I first became acquainted with Grandfather I noticed a small purple spot or pimple on his chin; when I saw him last it was so much enlarged that in shaving himself he cut around it. This incipient cancer continued to increase in size and virulence until the early spring of the year 1824, when on the 25th day of March he was gathered to his fathers. So passed away from earth JEAN GUILLIAUME BESSAC, the novitiate of the French Catholic Church, the wanderer over the Pyrenees, the member of the life guard to the King of Spain, the soldier of the American Revolution, and aid-de-camp of Count Rochambeau; an affectionate son, brother and father; a wise and faithful counselor and friend. May all of his descendants strive to imitate those virtues which have rendered his memory so fragrant.

[Another page is used to describe encounters with people who knew of John Bessac or his family in France.]

There is nothing I could add to the story of John Bessac. So I close out these posts with a few relevant items that may serve as a summary of this story; in chronological order starting with John Bessacs parents and siblings.

JOHN BESSAC VISITS MOROCCO

 

JOHN BESSAC THE RUNAWAY PRIEST

 

JOHN BESSAC LEAVES A TEARFUL MOTHER

 

JOHN BESSAC PASSES GERONA ON HIS WAY TO MADRID

 

JOHN BESSAC’S FIRST LOVE

 

THE KNIFE FIGHT

 

JOHN BESSAC OFFERS HIS RESIGNATION FROM THE ROYAL GUARD

 

 

JOHN BESSAC SEARCHES FOR HIS BROTHER’S SHIP

 

JOHN BESSAC BECOMES A PRIVATEER

 

JOHN BESSAC INVOLVED IN AMERICAN REVOLUTION

 

JOHN BESSAC THE FUR TRADER

 

 

JOHN BESSAC SUFFERS FROM CANCER

22 Tuesday May 2012

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Albany, Anah Bessac, Chenango Valley, George Park, John Bessac, Susquehanna Turnpike

John Bessac was at peace with the world. He had his family, his farm and his past times along the riverbanks and hillsides of the Chenango Valley.

It was 1822 when John noticed that when he shaved a spot on his chin would become irritated. John solved the problem by allowing a beard to grow around the area. In fact, John came to like the idea of a beard.

The sore spot turned into a tumor.

By the end of the summer the tumor created a sharp and constant pain. John’s normal exuberant personality seemed to ebb. Anah talked John into visiting a doctor in Albany who specialized in such things. John agreed and took the rutted pathway that was soon to be called the Susquehanna Turnpike.

John received no medical relief in Albany. However, while there, he sought atonement by making an overdue confession and attending mass. It had been several years since he had attended mass.

He was not able to cheer Anah by telling her that the tumor had been taken care of. His heart was heavy due to the solicitude of Anah and his children. He had always been independent and wished not to be waited on. But once again John was able to bring himself back to a semi-normal life.

John Bessac lingered for another two years and passed away in the spring of 1824. He was peacefully put to rest on the banks of the beautiful river which in life he had loved so much. John rests under a small hillock shaded by stately elm trees. Their branches lean over and toward him as if to say;

“Here lies a man who represents all that is true, honest and right with the world; John Bessac.”

The following is from Esquire George Park’s mid-1800’s pamphlet about John Bessac.

JOHN BESSAC: FUR TRADER, FATHER AND FRIEND OF THE HOMELESS

16 Wednesday May 2012

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Anah Nichols-Bessac, Betsey N Bessac, Canada, Canadian Indians, Catherine Bessac, Ephriam Nichols, Ester Peet, Francis OReille, French Refugees, French Revolution, Harriett Bessac, Henry William Bessac, Hudson NY, Jean Bessac, Joann Frances Bessac, John Bessac, John William Bessac, Louis Bessac, Niagara, trading, William John Bessac

John Bessac was a resident of Hudson, New York, in 1788. His business was drastically downsized. Monetarily, John was far removed from where he had been as a middleman between France and the United States. Much money was owed to him but due to the cost of the war quite a large number of the indebted no longer had the money to pay. Others, who had supported the British, fled the United States and settled in Canada.

John was beginning to carve out a comfortable living by trading with the French speaking natives of Lower Canada and the Indian tribes of the North and West who also spoke French. He would load a wagon with light-weight articles and travel north into Canada. From there he would travel west to Niagara.

By then his light-weight articles would have been sold or bartered. His wagon-load, during each trading session, would slowly have changed to furs purchased from French trappers and Indians. The notes and currency he received always paid for the venture and the valuable furs were clear profit.

This circuit trading continued on for three years.

John Bessac eventually had enough money to open a business in Hudson and remained there until 1809. During that time he enjoyed the comforts of home and his growing family.

There were eight children in all. They stayed close to him and his excellent wife Anah. John’s example of culture and intellectual pursuits were not wasted on his sons. They were frugal, honest and industrious. The daughters, likewise, followed the example of their mother who maintained a home of happiness and hospitality.

FROM FAMILYSEARCH.ORG

The Bessac home during that time was open to the poor penniless French refugees and travelers who had no home. The French Revolution had treated no one well.

It did not matter how ragged and destitute the refugees appeared to be. John and Anah always welcomed them into their home for a meal and a place to stay. Quite often a new set of clothing was obtained for the wanderer.

Few, if any, communications from his home country of France were received; other than a letter or two from his old friend Barte. Barte gave good account of his own activities but always ended in a warning for John to stay in the United States.

The Kingdom of France was being threatened by the National Assembly.

Letters from John to his brothers Baptiste and Bertrand were sparse.

During this period John never mentioned his wife or children.

 

 

 

JOHN BESSAC ROLLS THE DICE

12 Saturday May 2012

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America, Baptiste Bessac, Brest, British, Chesapeake Bay, Continental Army, Dublin, French Fleet, International trade, John Bessac, New Jersey, New York City, Philadelphia

Baptiste Bessac had purchased a load of flax seed that filled the entire ship. It sailed out of Philadelphia for Brest on the westernmost tip of France.

The British men-o-war must have been too busy with outgoing goods headed for America. The ship load of flax seed made it safely to Brest. Baptiste sold the goods to a German merchant who had a customer ready to receive the seed in Dublin.

Business was going quite well in Europe.

Not so in America.

British forces had been camped in the area of New York City. They made a sudden excursion into New Jersey which was defenseless. They ravaged the countryside and plundered the inhabitants. This was not the honorable warfare as the French had practiced it nor as the Americans had expected. The principles of war were turned upside down.

Business and trade in New Jersey ebbed to a trickle. John Bessac needed merchandise for resale. The Continental Army had need of supplies. On the other hand there was not much faith put into the American currencies. The new nation was deeply in debt. The gloom of failure for the citizens of America was starting to weigh heavily. They had pledged “life, fortune and sacred honor” as their collateral for their independence. The British were ready to collect on that debt.

Another French fleet had arrived near the Chesapeake Bay; the mouth of the Susquehanna River. The fleet was in need of provisions. John Bessac purchased what he could with his remaining money and chartered a vessel to deliver the supplies. Unfortunately the pilot of the vessel pulled out of a fog bank only to find himself looking into the canons of an English man-o-war.

The vessel was taken as a prize. The crew and John Bessac were held as prisoners of war.

John Bessac’s calculated risk ended in disaster. John was starting to question this life of international merchandising.

JOHN BESSAC THE PRIVATEER

08 Tuesday May 2012

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1779, American revolution, American Society, Atlantic Ocean, Baptiste Bessac, Bay of Biscay, Bordeaux, Caribbean, Central America, Continental Congress, Count d'estaing, Declaration of Independence, Delaware Bay, Diplomatic Meeting, dye wood, East River, George Clymer, Gulf of Mexico, John Bessac, Letters of marque, molasses, New York, Philadelphia, Prison Ship, Prisoners of Brittan, Prisoners of War, privateering, rum, South Sea, sugar

The privateer “Letter Of Marque”, who was ready for her dangerous mission, sailed out of the Port of Bordeaux in the early summer months of 1779.

There was, surprisingly, little action in the Bay of Biscay. The destination for the “Letter of Marque” was the West Indies. Her intentions were to sail both the Atlantic Ocean and the “South Sea” which was becoming known as the “Caribbean.” The Gulf of Mexico was quite calm aside from the privateering action.

The Marque took two prizes consisting of rum, sugar, molasses and dye woods which were rare except for in Central America. The ship was loaded to the point where it was best to head for port. She entered the Delaware Bay and sailed up to Philadelphia.

There, the prize was exchanged for money which was divided between the ship owners, the officers and the crew. John and Baptiste deposited their money with Clymer & Sons, a reputable ship builder and banker.

Money had been set aside for repairs and refitting of The Marque. As soon as that task was complete she sailed once more, in search of a prize.

A British sloop-of-war outmaneuvered The Marque. The sloop fired a majority of its eighteen guns and The Marque lost the battle. Three men were killed and several wounded. The Marque was captured and held by the British. Likewise, Baptiste and John Bessac also came to the same fate.

The British had a prison ship docked in the East River of New York. Baptiste, John, the officers and crew were imprisoned within this ship. Diplomatic efforts were made between the British and the French. An exchange of British for French prisoners was made. John and Baptiste Bessac headed to Philadelphia to retrieve their money from Clymer.

The gentleman handed over their money and the two brothers traveled to Jersey City across the Hudson from New York. Once there, they intended to start merchant and commercial businesses.

Connections had to be established. A light ship of shallow draft was chartered with the intent of visiting the French Fleet laying off the coast. The chartered ship was sufficient enough to avoid the heavy British men-o-war that remained hovering off the coast. The British were attempting to strangle the American uprising by starving it of needed goods.

The Bessac brothers met with Count d’Estaing who commanded the fleet. Arrangements were made for newly shipped goods to be delivered to Jersey City. These good would be sold and distributed by the Bessacs.

From Wikipedia

It was a very lucrative business and the brothers did quite well for themselves. John, cutting a masculine figure about town, rapidly commanded the English language. He was graced with the polished manners of a well-bred Frenchman and soon became a known figure within the best of American society.

Another chapter of John Bessac’s life was in full bloom.

JOHN BESSAC THE CONFLICTED

02 Wednesday May 2012

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John Bessac, Madrid, Sleepless, Sleepless in Madrid

John Bessac had a sleepless night following the near-mortal confrontation with his subordinate.

It was a devastating occurrence to John, who had never before threatened the life of a man. All the scenes from his past played in front of him. The picture of his beloved mother with tears streaming down her face, his father’s anguish in having to face the community and the church, and his uncle who had been so patient to ensure he learned his language lessons well, the same uncle who had treated him to the journey of Morocco and the northern side of Africa, and his own disobedience of the church.

John’s past created a mental conflict that he had been avoiding. The picture of him with bayonet in hand, pointed at a subordinates throat, was the catalyst that brought everything back. Yes, – – – – – indeed it was a sleepless night for John Bessac.

Over and over his thoughts were a mixture of what he had done to his parents when he so suddenly departed Montvalant, the teachings of the church which his mother had implored him to follow and what he may have done with that bayonet; the most unforgivable sin.

He wept like a child and murmured to himself over and over again;

“Je me leverai”

     [I will get up]

“Et je men irai vers mon père”

     [And I will go towards my father]

“Et je lui dirai”

     [And I will say to him]

“Mon père j’ai péché contre le ciel et devant toi”

     [My father, I have sinned against heaven and in front of you]  

“Et je ne suis plus digne d’etre est appelé ton fils”          

     [And I no longer am worthy of being called your son.”

John no longer knew if he was the prodigal son of his father or of his God. He was confused and bitterly disappointed in what he thought he had become in Madrid.

He wondered if he was worthy of his father, worthy of his church, worthy of being a Royal Guardsman and most of all worthy of himself. His guilt, past and present, twisted his mind into thoughts he never knew were present within himself.

John Bessac would not allow himself to think about his lost love, the prettiest senorita in Madrid. It never dawned on him that his conflict with the subordinate may have been displaced anxiety over this loss. Was it possible that the crude insults of the subordinate against an innocent girl were, in John Bessac’s mind, insults against his first love? We will never know because John Bessac could not allow himself to enter into those painful thoughts.

At an early hour in the morning, too early to be knocking on anyone’s door, John Bessac was at the quarters of his superior; the sub-commandante` of the Royal Guards. The man, luckily for John, was a gentleman of the first degree, a noble and generous Frenchman.

John related what had happened between him and the subordinate the previous evening. His guilt had led him to make a confession to anyone who would listen. John begged the sub-commandante` to deem whether those actions were worthy beyond reproach. If not, John would submit his resignation from the Royal Guard and receive an honorable discharge.

The sub-commandante`, a colonel, laughed in a gracious way and without a hint of reproach in his tone. “If I had to discharge every soldier with similar offenses I would have none remaining in my command.”

The colonel sent John on his way with a promise. If John requested a discharge, when his committed year was up, then the colonel would sign it and allow him to leave the guard.

John finished his commitment.

JOHN BESSAC PROTECTS A SENORITA’S HONOR

30 Monday Apr 2012

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Honor, John Bessac, Knife fight, Madrid, Pride, Spanish Royal Guard

John Bessac’s world had been turned upside down. His first love had unexpectedly left this earth. John fell into a deep dark fog and could not seem to emerge.

He sought relief from this anguish in the noise and bustle of Madrid. The metropolis was buzzing with life and fun.

It was at an evening social that he met up with several of his close friends from the Royal Guards. Untamed language and laughter flowed like the wine they were drinking. A young subordinate, apparently who had lost control of his better judgment, spoke quite disrespectfully of a female acquaintance of John Bessac.

John, still deep in sorrow from the recent loss of his love, took the insult personally and possibly even as an insult against that first love.

These words of the subordinate, against a female friend of John’s, would forever be repeated if John allowed them to stand.

John, therefore, and in a mild way, determinedly defended the senorita who had been spoken against. The subordinate vocally pushed back at John. Words were flying faster than the brains that originated them. The party broke up in mayhem. Those who understood the situation thought that in the morning wiser minds would view the episode as the result of too much wine; it would soon be forgotten.

John was on the way home with close friends when two figures emerged from the darkness. It was the obviously insulted subordinate and a companion. The subordinate immediately insulted John Bessac with the intention of recouping his own honor. John would have none of it. The subordinate called upon John to defend himself, and with that withdrew his sword.

John Bessac had only his bayonet to defend himself. Several blade passes were made at each other. The inexperienced but defiant subordinate soon suffered a wound and was prone on his back, minus his weapon and with John’s bayonet pointed directly at his throat. John, feeling the his new power, demanded that the subordinate recant his words against the disrespected senorita.

The subordinate spoke a few obligatory words of apology. John sensed the falseness in the young man’s words and demanded an abject and sincere apology. All the while John’s bayonet drew closer and more threateningly. The subordinate finally gave a deep apology in a submissive manner. The matter had been settled between the two.

However, the event had left John wondering about himself and what he was capable of.

John parted company with his friends and was involved in self-introspection for the remainder of the way to his quarters.

John Bessac had bullied another human. He had violated his own ethics.

JOHN BESSAC’S FIRST LOVE

28 Saturday Apr 2012

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Charles III King of Spain, death, Don Ramon de M., Duke of Parma, John Bessac, La Granja de San Ildefonso, Madrid, Segovia, Sierra de Guadarrama, Spanish Royal Guard, St. Ildefonso Palace, Young love

John Bessac had arrived in Madrid penniless and friendless.

As luck would have it there was a group of young Frenchmen in Madrid. It was not John’s wish to lean on friends for assistance. However, after a few weeks of living on next to nothing John was becoming desperate. His outgoing personality allowed him to make friends quite quickly. Among those young Frenchmen were some on the king’s personal guard. The Spanish royal family preferred the French for that security force.

John allowed his new friends to know he was looking for work. The word was passed around. John was made aware of an opening on the royal security force. John’s friends were the sons of French Courtiers. The Royal Guard, likewise, was made up of the same group of select people. John eventually found work as a member of the Royal Guard.

Guarding Charles III, King of Spain, Naples and Sicily, Duke of Parma, was a plum occupation.

Charles III, King of Spain, Naples and Sicily, Duke of Parma

Also guarding the king was Don Ramon de M.

What the “M.” stood for we are not told.

Don Ramon was not a guard of his king but rather a guard of Charles III’s health as well as the royal family’s health.

Don Ramon was the royal physician and he had a beautiful daughter who caught John Bessac’s eye.

John Bessac was either fortunate enough, or forward enough, to make her acquaintance. They formed a friendship and spent many leisure hours together.

It was summer time and the royal family made their annual move . It was a short trip only thirty-five miles north to nearby Segovia. There, at the foot of the forested northern slopes of the Sierra de Guadarrama, was a magnificent summer palace; La Granja de San Ildefonso.

The young girl’s father had been assigned to accompany the family there. John’s Royal Guard duties, likewise, also called him there. It was not coincidence that they would spend summer months together.

The palace gardens were a perfect setting for the two young people to discover each other’s mutual interests. There were antique statues and busts to make comment on. A particular relief allowed them to discuss the story it told. St. Ildefonso Palace was adorned with much artwork to be admired.

The young friendship started with the purest principles of esteem and mutual regard. The bud of romance appeared and John found himself growing closer and closer to the young girl.

His anticipation was dashed. She suddenly died from a fatal fever. The summer flower never fully bloomed for John. The joy went out of his world.

Madrid had now lost its principal attraction for him. Darkness and brooding overcame John Bessac.

JOHN BESSAC CROSSES THE PYRENEES MOUNTAINS

26 Thursday Apr 2012

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Abd ar-Rahman III, Alicante, Alicante Wine, America, American Army, Arabs, Badalona, Barcelona, Blanes, Cadiz, Coll de Panissars, France, Gerona, Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, John Bessac, Jonquera, Madrid, Mataro, Mediterranean, Minstrel, Perpignon, Philadelphia, Pompey the Great, Pryrenees, Roman Roads, Romans, Spain, Tortosa, Toulouse, Via Augusta, Via Domitia, Vidreres

John had been sitting in the city of Toulouse, France, knowing that he had to make a decision about where to settle. But Madrid? Why Madrid? Cadiz had no calling for him since his brother Ruffus died. But why did John choose Madrid? It had to be his adventuresome spirit. Young men tend to think romantically about far places as well as beautiful women. So Madrid it would be.

John’s first leg would be from Toulouse to Perpignon. He would still be in France; however, he would be on the cusp of the Pyrenees Mountains. Perpignon would allow him to gather whatever information he may need to help him cross the mountains.

It was an eighty mile trek from Toulouse to Perpignon. Being excited about his next great adventure he made the trip in three days. John had overestimated his endurance. He required rest. He found some solitude on the banks of the river. There was thick brush near the bridge that would shield him from the sun and the prying eyes of the church.  That is where he spent the fourth day. Many others were also there resting their tired feet and doing their best to get out of the November sun. The nights were cold but by nine in the morning the heat was well on its way.

It was there that he met a minstrel of sorts. They agreed to become traveling companions while they crossed the Pyrenees. A plan was made between them. They would enter Spain at Jonquera. The die was cast and they set their course forward.

Their path through the Pyrenees was only six miles from the Mediterranean Sea. John could smell the mountain shrubs and the salt air simultaneously. He had never experienced an aroma like this before. His senses were aroused and his romantic thoughts of wanderlust almost undid him. He considered staying there. His new companion, the minstrel, convinced him that they needed to keep moving.

There were no inns across the mountains and a person needed to be “established” in order to set roots in the villages. They met many local people along their way through the Pyrenees. It was not that the people were terse or rude. In fact they went out of their way to offer the two travelers shelter. The mountain people shared their black bread and onions with them.

After a twenty mile trek they finally reached Jonquera.

John Bessac’s romanticism once again took control as he viewed the castle in the mountains. It rested above Jonquera with a commanding presence. A Roman road, the Via Augusta , which ran from Cádiz to the Pyrénées , also captured John Bessac’s imagination. There, at Jonquera, it joined the Via Domitia at the Coll de Panissars. The people informed John that this was an alter built by Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus; Pompey the Great. John Bessac was carried away with the history of La Jonquera.

Once John came to his senses he realized that it was a long eighty miles to Barcelona and another three hundred miles to his goal of Madrid. The next day he and his companion were once more on the pathway to their final destination.

Some of the trip was through the countryside of Gerona and Vidreres which reminded him of his home country. The trip was, at times, more enjoyable once he reached Blanes, Mataro and then Badalona. Along that route he could see the Mediterranean and it took his mind off of his feet.

The eighty mile walk from Jonquera along the coast to Barcelona was completed in four days.

John’s minstrel friend decided to stay in Barcelona. There were many people there and several venues in which he could ply his craft. John travelled alone for the remaining one hundred miles to Tortosa.

Another castle and more romantic notions held John’s attention as he spoke to the people of Tortosa.

John heard stories of Roman conquest and the start of this castle. The Arabs under the second caliphate of  Abd ar-Rahman III added to it. John was mesmerized by the view of the castle above the Ebro River.

John still had another two hundred miles after leaving Tortosa.  The trip gave him plenty of time to think. He had thoughts about eventually getting to Philadelphia to become an agent for a business. His brothers had recently become involved with establishing contacts in America.

Or possibly, if that did not work out, he would join the American army. John carefully weighed several different plans. His trip was not all planning. He had plenty of time to enjoy himself.

Once he slept in a cottage and another time in the open air under a wide spread chestnut tree.

He remembered one evening staying with a priest and three lay brothers. That evening he enjoyed roasted chestnuts followed up with a few servings of Alicant wine.

Most of the trip was on foot.

Once in a while, rain – – – sun – – – or fog, he would hitch a ride on a rickety mule-hauled cart.

He never knew if he would be sitting next to a keg of olive oil – – – or at other times sacks of figs. There were a few times when a cart was loaded with honey or bee’s wax. Then he would have to keep swatting at bees that were drawn to the load.

John arrived in Madrid without a coin in his pocket.

JOHN BESSAC and the Right Reverend Bishop

20 Friday Apr 2012

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Bishop, Cadiz, Chenango County, Don Quixote, Greene NY, Jean Guillaume deBesse, John Bessac, Montvalant, priesthood, Revolutionary War, St. Martin, vows

John Bessac was eighteen years of age and had already had experiences that other lads his age only dreamed of.

He had played on the hillsides above the Dordogne River in Montvalant. He had studied and mastered languages at the University of Cahors. Not only that but he had made a voyage to Morocco to save hostages from Hammuda ibn Ali, the Monarch of Morocco.

Then he spent a year in Cadiz, Spain, understanding the ramifications of disease and surgery at the largest hospital in Europe.

All were not pleasant experiences in Cadiz. He lost his brother Rufus due to some strange malady. And John had burned his face and hands saving another lad from a laboratory fire.

However, he did have the opportunity to read several medical theses, “Don Quixote” and also some of Alain-Rene Le Sage’s humorous short stories.

Yes, John Bessac had led a full life by the age of eighteen.

Now it was time for him to take his vows of priesthood.

But John had seen too much. He was full of life and spirit, very fond of his amusements and had a deep desire to continue visiting various parts of the world. How was he to keep these desires buried if he were to enter the life of a priest?

The only counsel he could trust to help him make his case were his two remaining brothers; Baptiste and Bertrand. The bond between the three was strong. Many nights were spent with them as John discussed his problem.

Finally Baptiste and Bertrand agreed to speak to their father about John’s dilemma.

No effort was spared by the brothers to convince John’s father to abandon his plans for John. And it almost worked if it were not for John’s Uncle Louis. Louis was an unyielding arch-catholic and had established close friendships high in the church.

The Right Reverend Bishop of the Diocese wrote a pressing letter to John’s father insisting that John take the vows immediately. That settled the matter for John, whether he agreed with the plan or not.

On St. Martin‘s Day a feast would take place in Montvalant.

Saint Martin Croissants

Immediately after high mass John would be given the vows by the Bishop during a solemn ceremony. The Bishop had laid out his plans well.

The speech prior to the ceremony would discuss the generous nature of St. Martin, the saint of the day, while also picturing him as an equestrian knight.

St. Martin Dividing His Cloak For a Naked and Cold Beggar

The Bishop thought “Maybe that will plant the seed of a more exciting calling to John.”

Life sequestered away in some forlorn abbey did not appear to be one of John’s goals.

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Recent Posts

  • (no title)
  • Just Released: My New Paperback “THE LIBRARIANS”
  • NEW GLOBE
  • HEY MOM, HE’S AT IT AGAIN
  • VERDANT PALACES
  • DEATH
  • BUY IT NOW
  • CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS GUY? HE IS SELF PROMOTING AGAIN. Sheeeesh!
  • Egalitarianism, Utopianism and Other Such Nonsense
  • Adirondack Images and Tales Slideshow
  • The Land of Akbar; Post #1 (an introduction)
  • HARMONY
  • PAINTED FACES – PAINTED MEN
  • The Dehkhoda S3:E5 A Story About Sharing
  • The Dehkhoda S3:E4 The Dehkhoda Teaches Them About “Understanding”

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