May 4, 2019: Road Trip

 

Following several years of genealogical research my sister Linda Tilley and I embarked on a journey into the past.  Our intent was to follow the path of our ancestors on their journey to Monroe County, MI.  The most logical place to begin was with the various churches our Catholic French-Canadian ancestors attended. This part of the journey had been in the works for several years.  We started with St. Patrick Church, Carleton, MI.   It was where our parents, Allie Joblinski and Clara Wickenheiser married in 1945, and where all their children were baptized. We had roamed the church and grounds all our lives, and were very familiar with the three cemeteries, although the oldest one pre-dated our dead.  We photographed the headstones of our ancestors there. Most were still standing and legible.

The next leg was St. Charles Church, Newport, MI.  Our grandparents, Gus Wickenheiser and Lena Rivard were married there in 1915. Prior to that our great grandparents, Edward Rivard and Roseanne LaDuke were married there in 1879.  Roseanne was baptized there in 1858.  Her parents, Louis B. LaDuke and Eliza Santure were married in Monroe, MI in 1849, but Louis was very instrumental in getting the parish of St. Charles organized.  He also donated the land for the older St. Charles Cemetery. Edward’s parents were buried there in 1873.  Both cemeteries are the resting place of numerous relatives. The remaining graves were duly photographed.

Prior to St. Charles, our ancestors attended St. Antoine sur la Riviere-aux-Raisins.  All that remains there are some possible lost remains and a monument with some family names.  It is possible that the old St. Mary cemetery on Monroe Street was used after St. Antoine and before St. Charles. Some marriages and baptisms were performed at the beautiful St. Anne Church, Detroit, MI. The French-Canadian settlers travelled from Frenchtown territory to Detroit for religious ceremonies when no parish priest was available. The parish and a church are still there, but the original building is not.

Flash forward to May 12, 2018:  tracing our ancestors’ journey back into Canada.  On a rainy Saturday, we crossed the Ambassador Bridge into Ontario.  Our people probably passed through there, but as far as we know, none stayed.  We passed through it also, with a stop in Kingston, ON to spend the night.  In the morning we were off to our true destination, Quebec, CA. 

We reached Montreal, despite all the road signs being in French only, found our B&B, and parked the car for the duration of our stay.  We found the streets to be very narrow, with many of them one-way or blocked for pedestrian traffic. Many of the streets bore the names of our ancestors, included Rivard, our most recent immigrant. After putting in many miles on foot, we bought the transit pass which allowed unlimited travel on the bus line or subway for 3 days.  I liked the bus. I disliked the subway, even though it was much faster. We found Rue St. Laurent, which became our go-to place for dining, with many outdoor cafés and a plethora of ethnic foods.  Chinese, African, Portuguese, Polish, Latin, etc.  We had most of our meals there.  It was the logical starting place to get to the Old City, and Mount Royal. 

On the way to Old Montreal, we passed through Chinatown, and enjoyed the many murals on most of the buildings.  When we reached Place d’Armes we meandered around the plaza enjoying the monuments and the façade of the magnificent Cathedral de Notre Dame de Montreal.  The church, which was built in in the 1800’s, is on the spot that the original church had stood in the 1600’s.  Large, colorful stained-glass windows depict the history of the city. We learned that the original cemetery was moved as the city expanded. Most of the bodies were disinterred and moved to a huge 350-acre cemetery on Mount Royal. 

 We searched diligently for the plaque that was dedicated to our 7^th great grandfather, Urbain Tessier. When we found it, we realized we had passed it many times.  It was chiseled into the same gray limestone as the building and noted that this was the spot of one of the first land grants in Montreal.   The next place we looked for was the site of the first well dug in the city, by our 8^th great grandfather Jacques Archambault.  There is a small stone well and a well cover inscribed with the history of our ancestor.

We visited many other historical places, some shops, and the waterfront. We came across the chapel of Notre Dame de bon Secours founded by Ste. Marguerite Bourgeoys, who journeyed to Montreal in 1653 to start the first school.  As there were not many children in the new colony, she opened her doors to the Filles du Roi, the young women who were sponsored by the King of France to travel to New France to find husbands and populate the land. Ste. Sister Bourgeoys helped educate them. It is probable that she gave assistance to one or more of our ancestors. The chapel, and the huge figure of Christ with his arms stretched out to the water, really touched me.  It was one of my favorite places on our trip.

After visiting the tourist center and getting maps and tips, we found the plaque commemorating Le Grand Recru of 1653.  It was then that the King sent a regiment of soldiers to save the floundering colony.  Sister Marguerite Bourgeoys was a passenger on that trip.  Encouraged by the influx of new soldiers and supplies from France, New France was kept from disaster.  The bronze memorial to this event was hard to find. We finally found it half hidden by a port-a-potty.  So much for revering history!  Je me souviens!

The final day in Montreal greeted us with rain.  We ventured out to the Cimiterie de Neige on Mount Royal.  We walked around the extensive grounds finding family names:  Tessier, Archambault, Bougery, Meneux, LeDuc, Hamelin and many more. We then visited the wonderful St. Joseph Oratory.  

The Oratory was built by Brother St. Andre, and from the original small chapel it has grown to an impressive domed cathedral situated on a hilltop.  The 300 steps were often ascended by pilgrims on their knees in prayerful hope of a miracle.  The large chapel hosts a wonderful pipe organ that we had the privilege to hear while we were there.  Brother St. Andre’s heart is in a small stained-glass container behind iron gates which are home to many paper petitions for divine assistance. A sign stated that the petitions were removed from the gates daily and preserved in another location. The gardens are extensive, the views exquisite. While not relevant to our family history, we had both read about it, and were glad we visited.

As the skies cleared, we visited the Olympic Park built in 1976, and still in use for cultural and sporting events. 

In the morning we headed off to our next stop, Trois Rivieres, but we had all day to get there. As planned we stopped at as many villages and towns as we could, all along the north side of the St. Lawrence River.

Our first stop was Maskinonge, and the parish of St. Joseph.  Set in the calm countryside it was founded in 1700. We walked the cemetery and again found the names of our ancestors, but none that were direct. The next stop was in Louiseville, and the Church of St.-Antoine-de-Padua and a few blocks away, the cemetery of St Odilon de Louiseville. There we found wooden markers! But again, the names but not the ancestors we were seeking.

Next along the river was Yamachiche and the Paroisse Ste. Anne Yamachiche.  This church was much newer, a replacement for the one destroyed by a tornado in 1907. There were some ancient graves, but none that were remaining after a massive flood.

Finally, we arrived at Trois Rivières.  This name was a kickback to our childhood, as our Grandmother Lena Rivard Wickenheiser talked about this town, and St Alban. These were the places her father came from as a young man.  (Oh, how I wish we could remember those stories!)  Our first stop was the tourist center, for maps and information. We took a walking tour, finding many places of interest on the map. 

The Monumental Staircase was wonderful.  A sweeping stone staircase, with each step mentioning an event in history, starting with the Amerinds 6000 years ago, and ascending into more modern times. One step was inscribed with the arrival of the French in 1634. There were monuments to the wars: 1812, the first and second World Wars, and the Iroquois Wars.  There were also many statues of Religious figures.  Many city squares and residential yards had gazebos or monuments to Christ with massive statues.

We also visited the Musee des Ursulines, where the Sisters founded a school and  hospital in 1697. In the museum we found a placard mentioning Emma Trottier, a student there in 1871.  Again, not a direct ancestor, but our names were everywhere!  There was a lovely park across the street, with monuments and plaques. There was also a cannon group set up facing the river, demonstrating the strategic defense point the early French had along the St. Lawrence. 

From there we went to the oldest house in Trois Rivievers, built in 1668.  We went past the Eglise St. James, and other places and homes of note.  I was fascinated by the French-Canadian architecture style.  The many cottages with the mansard roof and dormer windows reminded me of the small house my Great Grandfather Edward Rivard built.  I photographed them and enjoyed the similarities.

The church our ancestors attended in Trois Rivieres was the Cathedral of the Assumption. It began as a Catholic Mission in 1634 and many of our people were baptized, married, and buried there.  The current church was built in 1854.  In 1978 they celebrated their Tricentenaries!  The interior was beautiful and peaceful.

The next day we did some research at the Archives Library.  Despite Linda’s limited French and the guide’s limited English we were quite successful in finding maps, websites, and plat maps with the Rivard name!  We knew the facts, it was just so exciting to get the documentation to support them.  After doing what we could there, we drove to the cemetery of St Louis, were again there were the names: Cloutier, Robert, Gauthier, Lamy, Rivard, Trottier….

The next morning we went to Cap de Madeleine.  Founded in 1635 the mission lives on.  This was the location that spoke to Linda, the way Notre Dame de bon Secours in Montreal spoke to me.  These were our people.  The Cathedral was magnificent, with massive grounds featuring Stations of the Cross, Monuments, and Plaques detailing the history of this place of worship. From there we found the abandoned and vandalized church of Sts. Marie and Madeleine, where I found some pieces of stained glass from the windows. The accompanying cemetery was a few miles away.  Again, our names, but all too modern.  In a unique twist, there were many notices attached to headstones, requesting contact if the reader was researching the same person--a new way to connect with your relatives.  Like the other cemeteries, there was a large block of stones for the Priests and other Religious who served that parish, all placed next to each other.  Quite a show of dedication.

The next village of our people was Ste. Genevieve de Batascan.  The 300^th anniversary of the church was commemorated on a bronze plaque dedicated in 1978.  Our people were baptized married and buried there in the late 1600’s and early 1700’s.

The only original building we found still standing was in Grondines.  Brothers Louis and Francois Hamelin built a mill in the 1600’s, Le Viex Moulin a Grondines.  Although we couldn’t get inside, we could touch the outer walls and commune with our history.  The Hamelin brothers married sisters Madeleine and Antoinette Aubert. These four were our 7^th great grandparents. Later, a grandchild from each marriage married each other. We found many such anomalies in the small French-Canadian community that our people came from.

The church in Grondines was St. Charles de Borromeo.  The cemetery was full of cousins, notably LeDuc and Rivard. Our more recent ancestors remembered where they came from when they built the church of the same name in Newport, MI.

Our Great Grandfather Edward Rivard lived in the small village of St Alban prior to coming to the Village of Newport.  His parents later followed their youngest of 17 children to his new home.  This church was the last place he worshipped in Canada! We found many tombstones with family names, and again felt the connection.

We arrived in Quebec City quite late, found our B&B, and climbed the three stories to the attic.  Very quaint and cute.  We walked to a street lined with dining places, had a meal and made an early night of it.  In the morning, after a lovely breakfast, we set off for the old city.  It is very distinct from the new Quebec, as you must enter through the old gates. The gates we entered were also the place where the 1815 esplanade powder magazine was located.  It was all in very good condition and as we walked through the large stone arch, we went back into another time and place.

There were so many things we wanted to do and see, but of course we couldn’t do them all.  We visited some very old structures, dating back to the time our people were there, took in the oddity of seeing horse drawn carriages alongside tour busses, visited a museum, and went to the lower city.  Quebec is situated on a high cliff, a very strategic military location, and below the cliff is the wharf.  That is were there were excavations to see, a wonderful mural of early Quebec, and many cottages and shops. We took the ferry to the South side of the river, and visited Levis, but the church was up about 600 steps, so we didn’t go up there. From the south side of the St. Lawrence we had a fine view of the battlements and the Frontenac Hotel. The hotel is a landmark and a famous stopping place for the rich and famous.  We went inside when we returned to the north side of the river, but the lunch menu was extravagantly expensive, so we ate elsewhere.  We thought we would sit with a cup of tea, but that wasn’t to be.   After a bit, we went back down to the lower level to scout out some places of interest, including a monument to the Filles du Roi (Daughters of the King). This was important since we have several (14 documented) Daughters in our ancestry.  We rode back up on the Funicular (outside elevator car) and meandered about a while before calling it a day.

The following day we left the city for more adventures.  Montmorency Falls was our first stop, just for fun.  It is taller than Niagara Falls, but not as wide.  There is a footbridge where you can walk over the falls, and a cable car.  There are a huge hotel and lovely gardens there as well.  After that we visited Ste. Anne de Beaupre where many of our people were baptized married and buried. There is also a history of miracles and a room full of crutches and wheelchairs left behind by those who were cured. There is an older church and cemetery on the site; there is not much left of the cemetery. We also stopped at Ste Anne de Perade: again, a newer church and no graves we could find.

The focus of the day was to hike the Charlevoix Crater, a 34-mile diameter meteor crater.  We drove up the mountains to where there was supposed to be a trail, and after many fruitless stops and useless directions, we just drove through the Laurentian Mountains to Baie Ste. Paul, an art colony village.  There we took our chances with an all French menu.  The roads were good, but the drive was long.  We elected for a different way back to Quebec, it was much faster.  The crater, it seems, was a prime example of “You can’t see the forest for the trees.”  Although we drove through it, we had no indications that we were there at the time.  It was a long weary day, especially for Linda, who did all the driving.

We headed for home the next morning.  We opted to travel though New York instead of going back to Windsor.  We arrived home exhausted, exhilarated, and ready to go again.  Maybe hit the towns and villages on the south side of the river…. We also missed a lot that we would like to see.

Our journey into the past took us to 33 churches where we had documentation of 187 baptisms, marriages, and burials.  More have been documented since then.  We walked the churchyards where they worshipped and gazed on vistas they would have seen in a more pristine fashion.  There are villages yet to see and

 ancestors yet to find. Our quest goes on.