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| François and Marie (Lavallée) Bourassa, taken before July 1903, when she died |
[Located on the banks of the Red and Seine rivers, the former city of Saint-Boniface, now a ward of Winnipeg, is the capital of French-speaking Manitoba – the historical center of the French-Canadian and Métis communities in Western Canada.]
The St. Boniface Historical Society archives contain several texts of memorabilia written by pioneers of French-Canadian colonization in Western Canada. Among these texts is the "Memories of a New Colonist in the Northwest" (ASHSB 1-98/22) written by François-Xavier Bourassa, likely in 1908. Born in Saint-Jean de Québec on August 20, 1836, François Xavier A. [Alfred] Bourassa left Lacadie, Quebec, for Pawtucket [Rhode Island] in March 1880, accompanied by his wife Marie (née Lavallée) and their 6 boys and two girls. Two and a half years later, he met Father J. [Jean]A. Malo, a priest-colonizer, who convinced him to come and see the benefits of settling in the Northwest. François-Xavier Bourassa is one of the pioneers of St. John, North Dakota. A note kept in the files of Father Pierre Picton relates that it was he [Bourassa] who asked Father Malo to name the Post Office ‘St. John’ in honor of his former parish of Saint Jean, Quebec [from which Father Malo also hailed]. A petition was circulated and sent to Washington, D.C., which approved the name St. John City in 1884. (ASHSB 1-101/2) Three of his sons, Alfred, Lendorf and Alcide, left the United States at the turn of the [20th] century and settled in Saskatchewan: Alfred in Laflèche, Sask.; Lendorf and Alcide in Radville, Sask. Here are Bourassa's memoirs as transcribed by Father Pierre Picton during the 1940s, with some corrections to facilitate reading. They were published [in French] in three issues of the St. Boniface Historical Society Bulletin (fall 1997, p. 11-23; winter 1997-1998, p. 9-23; spring 1998.
I, F.X.A. Bourassa, of Lacadie, P.Q., on March 20, 1880, finding myself financially troubled, with a family of 6 boys and 2 girls, and having no hope but to continue in debt and embarrassment, expecting to see my family begin to disperse without being able to help them financially, was able to acquire a good three-year lease for my property; and so I rented out the farm, and we left on April 20, 1880, for Pawtucket, R.I.
[They originally located in Lincoln, a newly-minted textile milltown. In the August 1880 Rhode Island census at Lincoln, François stated he was a carpenter, but had been out of work for the previous 12 months. Except for eldest son Abdulah, still in Quebec, and little Alcide, age 11, all the children, including 14-year-old Lumina, our great-grandmother, were working in the mill. Sometime afterward, they relocated down the road to Pawtucket.]
In late August 1882, Father Malo, a colonizing missionary, visiting French-Canadian communities in New England, visited Pawtucket. His praise of the Northwest Prairies aroused enthusiasm in many Canadians. He announced that he would be taking the train to Montreal on September 12, and that those who would like to see the western prairies could travel with him. [Father Malo was a missionary among the Michif-speaking Métis there, descendants of tribal women, mainly Cree, Nakota, and Ojibwe, and French-Canadian and Scotch-Canadian fur traders.]
On the evening of September 6th [1882], friends, with Antoine Dupuis in the lead, came to me, proposing an exploration of this great northwest. Although I burned with desire to make the journey, I didn’t feel ready because of poor finances and, besides, my wife opposed my traveling to these distant lands. I was too embarrassed to truthfully reply to their urging and generosity in offering me $100.00 for the costs of the trip, but upon their cajoling my wife, she finally consented to my going, all the while protesting that she would never go. So, I left Pawtucket on the evening of September 9th, and arrived in St-Jean, Quebec, the morning of September 10th, stopping off there to close a deal to sell my property to my tenant, earlier agreed upon. I wanted his offer in writing, with a deposit of at least $500.00 submitted to the notary drawing up the contract, on the condition this deposit be forfeited to me in the event he defaulted on the balance he offered, within two months of the sale. This precaution taken, on the morning of September 12th I took the train to Montreal. The western train had already departed, so I took the evening train, certain I could not join Father Malo before arriving in Winnipeg. The train passed through Chicago and arrived in Winnipeg on the morning of the 19th, and I finally found Father at the Bishop's Office in St. Boniface. He had two traveling companions, Father Brunelle and Mr. Joseph Gervais, a bookkeeper in Woonsocket, and I met to my delight Mr. Nicolas Bissonnette, Jacques Lavoie (known as Maurice), the lawyer Bernier, two of his brothers, the Reverend Father Samoisette, Cyrille Hébert and many others. The next day, Sunday, I attended Mass in St. Boniface. As I left the church, I decided the Mass here was no different from that of our churches in the province of Quebec.
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| 1888 photo of farmers with bags of grain waiting to deliver to the elevators at Brandon, Manitoba. |
We continued on the train [133 miles] to Brandon on Tuesday the 22nd. Wednesday morning we took a $40.00 hired wagon [with seats] to take us to Turtle Mountain, paying the driver’s expenses throughout the trip. We arrived in Wakopa at 10 o'clock the same evening. [Wakopa, Manitoba, had been intentionally established in 1877 by Bernerd LaRiviere on the northeast side of Turtle Mountain to provide groceries to new settlers passing through. It became a thriving settlement by 1881, then faded away by 1886 when the Canadian-Pacific RR reached Kilarney to the north.] The next day, the 24th, we visited the eastern and southern parts, retraced our route to Dunseith [ND], southwest of the mountain, and then returned to sleep in Wakopa. Father Malo did some shopping for his missions. On the 26th, we took the trail to Brandon, arriving that evening. In Brandon, we parted ways to never see one another again. R.P. Brunelle and Gervais were on their way home, but on the 28th, I took the train to Lake Qu'Appelle [The Qu'Appelle River flows through the Qu'Appelle Valley, Saskatchewan and there are some lakes]. I visited the west side.
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| Qu'Appelle Valley, Saskatchewan |
On Wednesday, the 30th, I was back on the train to Winnipeg. I spent the Sunday of October 4th in St. Boniface. On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, I visited Sainte Agathe [an early Francophone (French-speaking) community, today only 15 minutes south of Winnipeg].
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| Brandon on the left, then straight down, you'll see St. John, ND, about 80 miles south |
On Friday, I returned to St Boniface. It was a crazy place then. The Honourable Royal tried to sell me half a section near the church of Sainte Agathe. I ask him what this half-section was worth, and he replied, "I'll give you half of it in order to sell you the other half. I'll give it all away for $6,000.00. Only you'll pay me nothing, but what you can in cash. I'll wait for you as long as you want. You’ll pay only six a hundred a year.” "Sir," I replied, "if I could afford to pay such a price for such a property, I would never leave Lacadie." Cyrille Hébert encouraged me to buy that land. I said, "But my friend, do you think if I were to make such a blunder, I could last any time at all? I’d be forced to start over before long and then much poorer. No, my friend,” I said, “if we come to the Northwest, we can’t afford to buy. We'll take free land.” After hearing my remarks, he replied, "You’re right. That's what I should have done myself." (Time has shown he should have done as we’re doing.) October 11th, Sunday, I again spent in St. Boniface.
On the 12th, 13th and 14th, I visited the Rat River Valley [a tributary of the Red River]. Back in St. Boniface, I spent the rest of the week there and, on Sunday, prepared for my departure. On Monday, the 19th, I set off and arrived in Pawtucket on Thursday evening, October 22nd. I found the family well and eager to see me again. We prepared for a Saturday night gathering and told our friends, who did not miss it.
MY REPORT AND IMPRESSIONS OF MY EXPLORATION: I’m certain there is a bright future in the great Northwest for a man with courage and a notion of his values, prepared for a monotonous life in the fields, and not dreading disappointments. Don’t imagine there will be no occasional danger to be faced, deprivation of luxuries, sometimes the very necessities of life. We must remember that being at 30-40-60 or perhaps 80 miles from anywhere, it won’t be possible when we sit down for dinner, if we find no sugar on the table, to tell a child, "Come on, run to the grocery for a pound of sugar." I repeated, 'Not without danger.' Imagine an expanse of grassland rolling out of sight, with no sign of human passage, and a traveler being surprised in winter by a blizzard. Here in the East we have paths, fences, establishments every 2 or 3 acres, and despite everything, often we suffer great miseries, even accidents. No doubt these things will change as settlement increases. But a beginning must be made, and any man who wants to benefit from new settlement is obliged to go through this. It’s important that emigrants be in groups, united as much as possible for the trials of the first two or three years. To do this a man and his family are obliged to move out far enough to find enough adjoining land to settle next to one another, and for these reasons my search stopped, in particular, east of Turtle Mountain, within the northern limits of the Dakota Territory, near the Manitoba border. I especially liked that part of Manitoba where you cross from Brandon to my final place of choice, but it’s impossible for those who want to settle in groups, because all the odd sections belong to the Canadian Pacific RR, which has the privilege of keeping the land for 20 years without any taxes or obligation.
So, we must cross the Canadian border, leaving from Brandon, a distance to be made by wagon of 80 miles over the prairie, where there are a few settlers far apart, and some rather difficult terrain. But all the improvements will be the settler’s responsibility, and he will benefit from it. [St. John, of course, wasn't yet named. The only landmark nearby was Turtle Mountain.]
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| Turtle Mountain, North Dakota |
Now, my children, it’s up to you to weigh what I’ve told you, to see if you have the courage to succeed in the struggle and, above all, a firm commitment never to reproach me. If you resolve to go, you must tell me before November 1st, so I can go to St-Jean [Quebec] to sign the sales contract with Boudreau. If you can’t unanimously resolve to go [to North Dakota Territory], I can do nothing, because at my age [he was 46] I will need assistance from each of you; but if you agree, I will hasten to sell the farm before November 10, which is the last day of my privilege. (In my absence, my wife had renounced her initial opposition if I was satisfied with my exploration.)
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| A much-later photo of the Bourassa sons, minus eldest Abdulah. Left to right, Alcide, Lindorf, Horace, Hector, Alfred |
On the evening of November 2nd, I set off for St-Jean [25 miles SE of Montreal, just above Lake Champlain and the Vermont border], arriving the next morning. I advised my buyer, Boudreau, that I would present him with his contract Saturday morning, the 7th, and to be ready to sign it within the next 9 hours at the notary, Marchand Charbonneau.
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| Napolean Bourassa, our 4th great-uncle, 1873 |
On Wednesday, I went to Montreal to advise my uncle Napoleon [the artist, teacher and architect, Napoleon Bourassa] (a strong creditor against my property) to go at the same time in order to relieve me of my debt and accept my purchaser, which he did. On Saturday, at 10 a.m., everyone was at the station, and even M.I. Bissonnette had gone to ratify a $350 release that I had paid him, but forgot to discharge to the registrar. By 3 o'clock in the afternoon, all business settled, I was left around $2,800.00 to undertake the trip and pay the initial homestead fee.
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| Georgina Bourassa and husband, Philias Durocher, in later years |
My family numbered 14, young and old, composed as follows: Alfred and his wife and child; J.O.P. Durocher, his wife [Georgina] and child; Hector and his wife; Horace, Lindorf, Lumina, Alcide, my wife and I.
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| Our great-grandmother Lumina Bourassa Charbonneau in 1912 |
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| Looking formidable, his 'Aunt Vital' was married to his Uncle Vital Bourassa, and born Emilie Hebert |
Aunts Vital, Ranger and Demers [Domitilde Bourassa] took me to task one day regarding the great sacrifice I was making, telling me that now the my ailing affairs were now settled, no impediments stood in my way. "You leave your native parish where you are well-viewed by all, without enmity. You say you do it for your family, at your age, it is they taking care of you..." After listening to them with the respect due to their relationship to me, I said, "Aunts, a father without intestinal fortitude sees the day coming when his children will be forced to be caregivers for the rest of their lives, his having been concerned only with bringing them into the world. Aunts, I am not of that number; I have lived for them, and I will end life for them. After seeing the Northwest, I would have to have less intelligence than a brute slinking into his cave not to give this venture a try." I was back on the train for Pawtucket Monday night, November 9th. I arrived Tuesday evening. We continued to work as in the past [in the mills], while growing our plans until February 5th, the expected date of our departure to Lacadie, where I had reserved my house for our use until May 1st.
In January 1883, I went to see an immigration officer, Lalime in Worcester [MA], to buy our railway tickets. I managed to buy ten for $35 per ticket, from Providence to Winnipeg. He brought us these tickets in Pawtucket on February 4th, so we could go to St-Jean [Quebec]. Regarding these tickets, he strongly recommended that when we reached St-Jean, we return these tickets to him at Worcester, and a few days before we were ready to travel west, to write to him of the day we wished to leave St-Jean to continue our journey. So, we left on February 5th and arrived in St-Jean on the 6th, without incident - except that our trunks caused us some trouble during the trip, as well as at customs. Arriving in St-Jean, I hurried to place our tickets in an envelope and send them back to Lalime, and we stored our cargo in a shed at Joseph Dupuis' house and drove home to Lacadie. For two or three weeks we used our time to visit relatives and friends, at the same time I purchased what I intended to bring with us and prepared a small auction to sell what we could not take.
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| Typical ox in Quebec |
In mid-March Alfred, Philias [Durocher, the son-in-law] and I traveled to Granby's countryside [southeast of Montreal] to buy working oxen. We bought two pair, one pair for Philias for $120.00, another pair for Alfred and me for $82.50. They were brought to Granby, where we took them on a train car back to St-Jean. That same week I bought a young grey mare from Luc Papineau, to whom I paid $180.00, and a brown horse for which I paid $160.00. Horace had bought a little grey mare in January, before we arrived, and paid $100.00. So here we were spending our small capital for tickets, horses and oxen - $932.00; and we were just getting started. During the last week of March I wrote Lalime we would leave St-Jean with a livestock railway car on April 2nd, while the family would take a passenger car on the 5th, by the morning train, and that we needed tickets for both cars, since we wanted two persons with the stock and only one was entitled to ride "free" on that car. We were preparing to load on April 2, everything ready; however, I dared not 'bill' this car while we anxiously awaited the arrival of our tickets. The eastern train, due at 9.30 a.m. was arriving. From a distance, I saw Lalime coming along the platform, holding a large envelope. He urged that my family, above all, not to miss the passenger train on the morning of the 5th. If my family missed it, he would be powerless to rescue them. After this brief warning, we parted ways. I hurried to 'bill' my livestock rail car to Brandon, Manitoba, accompanied by Napoleon Hébert. I was told this car to Brandon would cost me $238.00. I wanted to pay right away, but was told it was better for to pay at Brandon, so I complied. (We will see later which was better.) Hooked up, our train set off at 11:00.
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| Canadian Pacific livestock car |
Alfred and Philias took charge of the tickets and supervision of the women and children for the trip. Horace and I were in our #1732 car, but we didn’t know for how many days. We were comfortably situated, for it was a big car. We had built a solid cross partition, 4 feet from the end, in which we had deposited 8 window frames, double and single, with no glass; a mowing mill [likely a hand-turned grist mill for grinding grain into flour, or a horse-drawn grain mower, its long blade detached]; 1 quart and a half of lard; a double stove; shovels; axes; forks and other tools; 2 quarters [kegs]of nails; a tin of butter. We fitted in 100 minots of oats [a minot is about a bushel], and placed on top 1 bag of rice, 1 bag of salt, 10 bags of potatoes and a pair of double harnesses. Across this partition our 4 oxen stood opposite the doors. At the other end were 8 boxes containing clothing, supplies, books and assorted kitchen items, such as crockery, a sewing machine (disassembled), a clock, and other things; 4 large toolboxes, all stacked to the ceiling, making a solid bulkhead forward. Our 3 horses had their heads facing the doors. We had placed a strong piece of wood across the car to which to tie them, enabling us to give them food and water without having to pass between them. At the doors were water, 10 gallons of kerosene, 8 bales of hay placed as a table and bed, and a 'valte' [vat? Jug?] of good wine. Before we left, the gentlemen Decelles brought to our car a "valte" of good brandy and a 'valte' of good wine, a few boxes of sardines and the like. I confess that as I passed through our beautiful countryside of St-Jean and Lacadie, I felt strong emotion and a few tears on my cheekbones.
We arrived at the train yards of Pointe St-Charles. It was late in the night by the time the Western train finished assembling and we departed. We arrived at Prescott the next morning, where a special emigrant train awaited (3 passenger cars, 4 luggage cars, and 15 stockcars.) [Their livestock car must have been switched to it.] It was night when we finally departed. The weather was mild and beautiful. This train was slow-moving, but wasted no time, stopping only to cross a train, or for water or coal. We happily arrived in Port-Huron on the night of the 5th to the 6th. In the train yard we went through an inspection and presented our transfers. Our goods and livestock were put under 'bond' until we came out of the United States to enter Manitoba at St. Vincent. [A common procedure when a train crossed back and forth over the international border, to verify that the goods entering the U.S. would be the same goods returning to Canada,and, therefore, tariff free.] We left Port-Huron the night of the 6th and arrived in Chicago the evening at the 7th. I hurried to transfer my car through to the Rocky Road [?], but my ticket was for my passing through on the Milwaukee, so I had to leave our car for at least two days. After my car left, I went to the station and took a hire to a friend, Joseph Lord, 880, W. Taylor, Chicago, Ill., with whom I spent 24 pleasant hours.
On April 8th, I picked up the train to St. Paul and arrived the morning of the 9th. I went to the transfer office to ask if they could give me any news on the #1732 livestock car. They told me to return in the evening, that they would have something then. I did that. They informed me this car had just left such and such a station and that it would enter the yard at 4 o'clock the next morning, and that everything was fine on that train. The next day, shortly after four a.m., I went back to that same office and was told some cars had entered the yards and to locate the car as soon as possible and return with my papers, which Horace had kept. It was no small matter to find him in a yard where there were thousands of cars on hundreds of tracks, two to three miles in length. After racing about almost an hour, I finally found him. (In such circumstances our meeting had the emotion of a very long separation.)
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| St. Paul, MN Railway Yards |
Everything was fine, and I carried my papers back to the office. It was high time, too, as a conductor was there to receive the 'bills' of the cars that were to be attached to his train, which was being assembled for the north. After exchanging papers, I returned to the car. I was barely onboard when we were hooked up and on our way. We arrived the next morning in St. Vincent, again undergoing the same procedure as in Port-Huron, a re-inspection before departing the United States to ascertain we were leaving with the same livestock and goods as on our entrance. It was quickly done, and we left.
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| Emerson, Manitoba |
In Emerson, [Manitoba]we had to enter as emigrants. At this office we had the help of a French-speaking officer, a Mr. Têtu. When I entered, he asked if there were other emigrants on our train. At my negative reply, he said, "It's good that others are getting better at this." As a result, I paid attention to the composition of our train. Three cars had failed to transfer somewhere and had been left behind. Indeed, two days after our arrival in Brandon, these cars arrived. We continued on and arrived at Winnipeg in the evening. I let Horace continue alone to Brandon [133 miles on] and got off at St. Boniface, because I knew the family would be there. [Brandon was established in 1881 as railroad boomtown when the Canadian-Pacific laid its tracks through that area.] Three or four days before, I had telegraphed from Belleville to Jacques Lavoie, telling him the likely day of their arrival. He had not disappointed, but met them upon their arrival, as he had at ours. It is a comfort to the traveler to meet brave hearts always ready to help a stranger. I arrived at his residence where, four days before, he had carried the entire family, after a pleasant trip. It was a night of fun, but at the same time a busy one, because we would go back on the road the next morning. To write down everything we did and said in the course of that evening would be too long.
On Thursday April 12th, we boarded the train. I never understand the actions of this train’s crew. From Portage la Prairie to Brandon, with a train of fifteen cars, they maintained a speed of 60 miles per hour, the tracks still rough from winter weather. At one point the train was cut off, causing consternation onboard among the large crowd of passengers. Fortunately, the signals were given with caution, and we escaped without incident.
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| It may have been this Grand Central Hotel they checked into upon arrival in Brandon, Manitoba |
We arrived in Brandon at 5 o'clock in the evening. After moving into a hotel that charged us two dollars a head every 24 hours, I hurried out in the evening to find a cheaper accommodation and found a small dwelling for $5 a week, any fraction of a week counting for the entirety. We cared for our animals, locked them in, and Horace came to the hotel with us. On the 13th, we settled our freight bill, which was only $368.90 [much more than the $238.00 he were initially told, unless he accidently switched numbers in the writing of this]. Upon leaving this office, we went to take possession of two wagons, two harrows, a plow and whatever effects we had purchased in Winnipeg from Mr. Bissonnette, delivered to Brandon [Perhaps that was included in the final transport cost]. We unloaded our livestock car and placed what we could in our little dwelling, then settled down as best we could. We had been 24 hours at the hotel, were counted as 13 and paid $26. On Saturday the 14th, we visited the Rev. Robitaille, the parish priest. He offered us a small shed to store what we couldn’t take on our first trip to Turtle Mountain. We gratefully accepted. He invited us to attend Mass the next day before leaving. When we attended, he led us to good seats he had placed in front of his children’s choir, as if we were members of the clergy. In the course of Mass, we were the first to contribute to the collection. (In those early boom years all means were taken and, it seems by all, to exploit the traveler, sometimes boldly by men who should have acted otherwise, it seems to me.) That same day we met several people also preparing to go to the Mountain, especially the Foussard brothers, the Laberge, F. Brassard, Marckel, A. Wood, Biller, Beglau and a few others. On Sunday, the 16th, we prepared to depart - Alfred, Philias, Horace, Lindorf and I - 5 in all. Hector stayed in Brandon with the women and children. We loaded our canvas-covered wagons with goods. During the week, I had my horses ironed [shod]. We put to harness our four oxen, ready for the departure signal, set for Monday the 23rd of April, 1883.
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| Settlers leaving Brandon |
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