do—the knowledge of what’s back of you will give you strength and courage.”
Mimi said nothing. Jean went on.
“We Daquins trace our history a long ways back—back to the early days of the convent Louis XV founded here in 1727—the Ursalines—to teach the Negro and Indian girls. You know of beloved Madeline Hachard—she who was a postulant in the Ursaline Convent in Rouen—Rouen beloved of Flaubert and Maupassant. Her letters home tell of their perilous voyage to Louisiana in 1728, of shipwreck and shortages of food and water, of sickness and discomfort. Soon after Madeline Hachard—who called herself ‘Hachard de St. Stanislas’ after she took the veil—and the others opened the doors of their convent, there was need of wives for the young men of character and means. Girls of good family were sent to the colony— les filles à la cassette they were called. From these matings sprang many of the great families of Louisiana—and to one of them you and I owe our being. From her who nearly two hundred years ago took the long and perilous voyage there comes down to us a path—at times clear and distinct—at times faded and shadowy—from that path innumerable branches shoot like the limbs of that ancient oak over there.”