François Bourassa Memoir: Part 5 - April - Dec. 1884, Rolette Co., North Dakota Territory

North Dakota prairie

SPRING WORK: At the end of March 1884, Horace took another trip to Devil's Lake for freight, at two cents a pound. (At these costs for transporting freight, it was no surprise everything was costing us dearly here.) We took advantage of these trips by obtaining advantageous items. The previous trip had been good despite the consequences suffered [frostbite and exhaustion]. In the first week of April, I went to Lafond for a load of wheat that was frost damaged. I took 50 minots for $7.50 and wished I could buy more. [Was he going to pick through it to find viable seeds for planting or sow everything and hope for the best?]

Father John Malo, who sought French-Canadian homesteader to Rolette Co., died 1904 in Bismarck, ND

Father Malo left for New England in February and, at the end of March, I received a letter from him announcing his return to Devil's Lake, and that Abdalah's wife and a few other families would be accompanying him. As a result, he needed a few wagons to transport them to St. John. [The Manitoba RR, which was formed in 1879 with James J. Hill (the Empire Builder) as its general manager, reached Fargo in 1880. A line from Fargo to Grand Forks was completed in 1881, and construction continued toward the Canadian border. The Manitoba also built a line west from Grand Forks, reaching Devils Lake in 1883 . . . The Manitoba became the Great Northern Railway Company in September of 1889.] So, I went, accompanied by Foussard [one of the brothers from earlier accounts] and Abdalah, with [the grocer] Brunelle’s team. (We had an agreement with Brunelle that he would freight our goods if we ran out of space).

In the second week of April, in fact, on the same day as we did, they arrived [at Devil’s Lake, North Dakota], accompanied by Abdalah's wife; E. [Emilien] Lagassé and his family [also from L’Acadie, Quebec]; the young ladies Roy, Hudon and Limoges. At 10 the next morning we began our return, stopping for the night at the northwest corner of Grande-Arbre and Oscar Charbonneau, at the home of a Mr. Dionne. The next day we ate after crossing that evil coulee [that had caused such trouble the year before]. It was a beautiful day. We spread our meal on grass beginning to appear. Father Malo presided over our feast. After passing le petit filet du voyageur [perch?] to each, he bade us eat; in such circumstances, never a master was better obeyed. The dinner finished, our pipes lit, [difficult to translate, but it appears they played a type of tag to stay warm while the horses rested, that Father Malo joined in]. When a young person's turn came, Father Malo threw himself on the ground rather than allowing him to pass.

1908 camp stove for burning wood, likely similar to the travel stove they used in 1884.

In the evening we camped among the buttes of Iron Lake [its name may have been changed]. At the signal to stop, each pitched in - the drivers to their horses, the passengers to set up the tent and travel stove, the women to the cooking. Supper eaten, the games resumed. Father added other games, like throw the stick and playing ‘sow’ [?]. Nine o'clock, and time to retire. Father recited a short prayer for us, afterward saying, “Now lie down, and those who find they have not talked enough, continue praying until you sleep; it will keep you from having useless thoughts." After lunch the next day, we broke camp and arrived at St. John in the early afternoon.

Emilien Lagassé and wife Zenaide in later years

Lagassé and his family settled in with us, while waiting to be placed on a homestead, which they were in early June. [After rearing a large family of 12, his wife Zenaide died, and  in 1929. Emilien Lagassé (1851-1940) married our great-grandmother, Exilda (Bibeau) (1865-1948), widow of Fremance LeBlanc (1848-1920).]

Exilda (Bibeau) LeBlanc, before 1920

Abdalah, south of me, had built a good little house 7 acres from my house. (With proper surveying not done until the autumn of 1885, we managed quite a feat in seating each of us on a one-half mile square per homestead, on which we built our houses. We could not have done better, even had the survey been done on time.) In the days following, we each cultivated some acres of land and sowed seed. I managed to sow 6 acres of wheat, 10 of oats, 3 of barley, and plant a one-acre vegetable garden. In May I broke a few acres of prairie on which I seeded turnips and planted a few minots of potatoes. Our sowing finished, we started to make a meadow pasture. After having my plow break twice, sometimes three times, a day, the others lent me a hand. In a few days, I had surrounded 25 to 26 acres.

SETTLEMENT OF ABORIGINAL CLAIMS: IN the first week of May [1884], les Sauvages came to St. John for a large pow-wow. They assembled to protest white colonization on these lands. Two commissioners from the Department of Indian Affairs came from Washington to hear their demands. The agents showed them a large map of Dakota territory, asking them where they claimed their reservation. "Show us on this map where you want it." The great chief approached the map, holding a stick in his hand. He moved the tip of his stick across Dakota territory, a little of Nebraska, Wyoming and Montana. The commissioners smiled, rolled up their maps and began an investigation to discover how many Sauvages were entitled to land claims. A large group of Métis and even a few Sauvages were born on British territory [Canada], and these especially were the most troublesome regarding white settlement. According to the report of the Métis and Father Malo himself, there were at least 900 to 1,000 families entitled to American protection. When the investigation was completed in 1885, only about 160 families were acknowledged. At a quarter of a section for each family, the government offered them two townships as a reservation for 20 years, after which they had to submit to civil law like the whites. This made room for 288 families. In addition, the government offered them $2,000,000 in annual installments of $50.00 per head of household until the payment was complete. This was just for the Sauvages and Métis adults and children born in the United States. They accepted these two townships south of [Turtle] Mountain. [This is the Wikipedia article on the Turtle Mountain Chippewa and their struggles, a different slant from the Bourassa family's take.  HERE ]

Turtle Mountain

The relief I felt when this arrangement was completed is impossible to describe.  For two years it had been impossible for us to spend time and money in making improvements for fear of losing the land. I suffered mockery during those two years, almost always from those “camels” coming down from Manitoba, after having drawn everything they could get from the Canadian Government, after even having fired gunshots against Canadian authority [He must be speaking of the 1885 Riel Rebellion]. To tease me, they told me their agent would allow them to draw lots to see who would take old Bourassa’s homestead. One day, one of the leaders of this group, calling himself my great friend, came to find me. Claiming to have my interests at heart because “I love you, and we want you to stay in our reservation, I propose that we exchange wives. My wife is entitled like me, and will have the right to keep her husband with her, and me in the same way." I turned to Maman and ask her what she thought. She burst out laughing, poor woman. There were consequences. Several families were greatly affected. The Brunet family, whom Father Malo had conducted to and settled in that area, was almost ruined. The head of this family, a stubborn old man, refused to leave. He filed a three-year lawsuit that increased their misfortune with time wasted and the costs of the trial. They had to leave, anyway, and start over. In the end they became very poor - few thousand dollars melted away.

THE SAINT JOHN AND JULY 4th FESTIVALS: The first Sunday in June,1884, the Rev. Father announced at Mass that we would be celebrating the feast of St. John the Baptist for all the French Canadians of Rolette County. After Mass he explained to us, "It will be a great opportunity to get to know one another, since we come from all over. If we don't take this opportunity, we will remain indifferent to one another, perhaps always, which isn't right." He was certainly correct. Because we had been here only a year, we were loath to make an objection, but we feared it would be a failure. A committee was organized to prepare a grove [near the St. Cloud Chapel] for an outdoor mass. We asked the ladies to contribute table utensils, dishes and the rest to properly set tables for at least 50 to 60 guests. The Rev. Father took charge of announcing it to all the county missions [he traveled to small settlements to say Mass] and sent private invitations beyond.

June 24th arrived.  Mass was at 10 o'clock; the weather was magnificently beautiful. The good Father gave a very patriotic sermon as always. He repeated the essential parts of his sermon in English because all the English-speaking settlers from 10 miles around were there. We picked up a few hundred dollars at the collection. After Mass, a few were called on to address the crowd gathered around the platform. Father spoke again with great success. At noon,  more than 400 servings were dished out at the tables, all free. It was the non-contributors who were the hungriest and most in a hurry. After dinner there were horseshoes, men's and children's races, wheelbarrow races, blindfolded races, sack races, and other amusements. In the evening there was a meeting of French Canadians to organize an actual St. John the Baptist-Turtle Mountain Society. Mr. Lemai of Butte Saint Paul [a settlement west of St. John, now a state park] was elected president and Father Malo was elected chaplain. They decided that the celebration of 1885 would be at Butte Saint Paul. We finally rejoiced in this great success.

The prairie kept breaking our plows. It happened to Alfred, Hector and Philias, too. We couldn't do much [plowing] because we had to “run so many hares at once” [so much to do?].

The Fourth of July was celebrated with enthusiasm. A lecturer read the Constitution. Games of all kinds followed: horseshoes; men and children raced; les sauvages paraded in ceremonial dress and danced, dressed in their richly adorned, primitive clothing, heavily tattooed. Men, women and children performed the war dance with great animosity. They told us that there were three hundred of them. It was very sad to see the Métis, so many of them, involved in these demonstrations. [It likely was the Turtle Mountain Chippewa, composed of Plains Ojibwe and Métis, who came to dance.]

 4th of July dancing of Chippewa in MN, 1908

AT THE RED RIVER FOR THE THRESHING: Still having old hay for more than a year, we didn’t do much with it. At the end of the month, Abdalah, Alfred, Hector, Horace and Lindorf were preparing to leave for harvesting in the Red River Valley. Men were scarce. The prices were good, and we were in great need of money.

Red River Valley

I remained home as watchman of our small crops and saw to every house as necessary. They left on August 2 for at least two months, one of the saddest days to date. Lumina [our great-grandmother] went to bed every night with Abdalah's wife [Josephine, who had tuberculosis, which Lumina didn’t catch, oddly enough], Hector's wife [Matilda, who was frail and died in 1893, but we don't know from what] with Alfred's wife [Elizabeth] or vice-versa. I slept at Hector's when I could. My wife, [Marie Sophia], was sleeping alone at home. I was gardening on the side and so on, and had Allan Wood [who, with his parents, had been chased off by Chippewa in 1882, but returned] cut our small crops, and I did the fifth [crop] myself. When it came time to gather them up, I used Alcide, who was only 11 years old. It wasn't treacherous [using him as child labor?], we were nearly finished.

INCIDENT WITH AMERICAN CUSTOMS: One day as I walked through the customs gate, the customs officer said to me, "I am informed that some in your family are smuggling contraband." I shrugged, replying, "I don't know, there are so many of us. Maybe someone brought in something I don’t know about. I’ll find out. If so, be assured I will report it to you." "That's good," he said, "I’ll be watching for you." Two or three days later, I went back, went in and he asked, "What news have you brought me?" I said, "That's right, something happened." "Yes, what is it?" "Someone brought across two bags of flour, a spade and a small sow." He asked, "What did the sow cost?"  "$8.00, " I answered, “purchased from the elder [Paul] Vandal [at the time in Lena, Manitoba, just across the border, but moved to St. John in 1889]. You can see it if you want." "I don't need to. You owe me so much," he said. I paid the duty and he gave me a receipt, strongly recommending I not let my family bypass customs again. I promised, of course. He asked, "Which one of you bypassed customs?" (That was tricky.) I pointed at my stomach. "It was me." He jumped in his seat. "You knew that the other day. Why didn't you pay the duty then?" "That's right," I answered, “but since I didn't receive the money until last night [he must have bought the sow for resale], it wouldn’t have been smuggling until today.  Do you recall when I asked you to have the goodness to wait for the duty on a cow I wanted to buy across the border and you told me your oath of office did not allow you to do so? This time you have been waiting for me, but remained in good standing with your oath of office." He took my hand, saying, "You’re right, Bourassa." He never brought up customs again.

FALL HARVESTS: I began cutting the small harvest. I hitched up at 8 in the morning and worked 6 to 7 hours, after which I had to see to everything [the chores]. I made sure everything was fine and, after the soup, I resumed my run to Hector's house [to do the chores there]. This lasted until the middle of October, around the time of their [the five sons'] return, which caused great rejoicing for all. The next few days I managed to convince Wood and Markel to come and beat [thresh] my little crop. It was a small harvest, but I had to pay for it. First they would not come for less than $20.00, even though I had only 100 minots of grain, the price per minot [should have been] 10 cents. I had to have no less than 200 [minots], otherwise I would have found myself paying more than ten cents. They arrived at 10 o'clock and we started beating after dinner. At 4 in the afternoon, they left. [He doesn't explain how he ended up with so much.] I had 162 minots of wheat, 359 of oats and 69 of barley, all of medium quality. [Because of the short time taken to thresh his grain, Wood and Markel must have had a horse-powered thresher. He ended the paragraph with: N’étant pas habituer à faire des mulons avec des bottines, ils avaient prit beaucoup d’eau. Il m’a fallu prêter beaucoup d’attention pour le conserver, surtout le blé et l’orge.  My translation follows.]

The mules not being used to performing in boots, they drank a lot of water. I had to pay attention to where to store it [the bags], especially the wheat and barley. [Was it because the mules would splash urine on them?The mules must have been specially fitted with leather boots to prevent slippage to operate the conveyor belt on the side, if this is what they perhaps used to thresh his grain.]

Grain was bundled in the field and stacked near the barn until the threshing crew came to separate the grain from the straw. Straw was blown into the barn from the thresher, and grain was put into sacks. It was powered by 2 tied horses.

A NEW FINANCIAL AGREEMENT BETWEEN A FATHER AND HIS SON: The boys had had a good trip. A couple of them became sick. However, they had averaged $100.00 each, or close to it. I told them that from this time forward we would go separately. Whatever I would do for them would have to be paid back.  I was too financially exhausted to be able to continue to make loans to them, for the present at least. They claimed to understand, but appeared severely affected. They thought I intended to break off all relationships. That was not what I intended. On the contrary, what we needed was to remain more united than ever, but as I had always met any pressing need, I was now broke. I had to sell one of my horses to pay off my debt to our grocer, while they, although not having much, at least had no debts. They understood, but Hector was so affected that one day he told us he was leaving to return to Pawtucket [RI]. His wife [Mathilde Tremblay, 1859 RI – 1893 ND] told him, "Come on, I'm fine being in Monsieur Bourassa's house. If they will have me, I will stay here. Nothing in the world will take me back to Pawtucket. I came here to stay." I was amazed to see this young woman, so frail and so brave. She would succumb to illness in a few short years. I told them, "Save your wages as much as possible. Stay with us this winter, treat this as your home and we will, also." Which they did. At the end of the winter, he managed to buy oxen to be able to work a little for himself. During the winter we continued to haul as many logs to the mill as we could, and wood for lumber; poles, stakes and the like.