Saturday, July 12. Cobequid, Ft. Beauséjour, Memramcook, St.-Anselme, Moncton.

On Saturday, I headed off by myself while the rest of the family was busy with other obligations.

It was a rainy, foggy, morning. The halfway point, Truro, was the Acadian village of Cobequid. I was puzzled at first; this was a hilly area, and so unlike the other Acadian sites I had seen. But the puzzle was soon solved; the road dropped quickly out of the hills, and around me lay the diked marshland I'd seen in Pisiquid, in Grand-Pré, and in Port-Royal.

I fiddled with the radio to see if I could find any Acadian radio stations. I had found some French stations, such as Radio Canada, but these were broadcasting from Quebec or Montreal, and the music on them sounded like what you would probably hear on pop stations in France. The auto-search stopped at 89.5, and what I heard grabbed my attention immediately. The French being spoken on this station sounded more like what I would hear on Cajun stations in Louisiana. I understand very little French, but the tone, the accents, the acceptance of a few English words sprinkled here and there--everything about it suggested that this was an Acadian station. Indeed, it was:  Radio Beauséjour, CJSE, out of Shédiac, NB. The music was a mix of Acadian, Cajun, and bluegrass. I could make out enough to understand that the Shédiac Lobster Festival was this weekend, but I knew I wouldn't have enough time to stop and enjoy either the food or the concerts.

At the border between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, on the Bay of Fundy side of the Chignecto Isthmus, is the region known as Beaubassin. This was the first area settled by the Acadians as the population outgrew Port-Royal and the Annapolis Basin. Several families of my ancestors lived in this region. The provincial border was, in 1750, the boundary between French and English lands. The French Ft. Beauséjour rises above the marshes just inside New Brunswick. In 1750, by the village of Beaubassin, the English constructed Ft. Lawrence, within what is now Nova Scotia. A memorial to Beaubassin, and the ramparts of the English fort, may be seen right behind the New Brunswick visitors' center. From both, the low outline of Ft. Beauséjour may be seen in the distance (last picture in each series).

To the left of the memorial lie the ruins of Ft. Lawrence.

There is a small visitors' center with a model of Ft. Lawrence and information about Beaubassin. Some folks with the Fort Lawrence/Beaubassin Heritage Association are trying to raise the money to reconstruct the fort and an Acadian village. I spoke with one of the people, who gave me a handout on Beaubassin listing the families that were here in 1750, which also included some entries from the parish register. She was able to tell me the various areas in the region where the families I'm related to lived. Most of these left before 1750, fleeing to Ile St. Jean (Prince Edward Island); from there, some were deported to France in 1758 and others escaped and hid in the woods, to be captured and imprisoned later at Beauséjour (renamed Ft. Cumberland by the British).

The village of Beaubassin was destroyed by the French in 1750, after the inhabitants had been encouraged to flee to the French side of the river in advance of the British invasion.

The parish cemetery was discovered when the railroad was being put in. A farmhouse marks the site where the church stood; the cemetery is behind it.

On to Ft. Beauséjour. It was a rainy day, and I was the only visitor so far that morning, and the park ranger was surprised that someone would want to come wander the fort that day. I explained that this was actually one of the places I especially wanted to see, and explained my family connections. Again, I was greeted with a warm, "Welcome home!" We talked about Acadians in New England, and one of the rangers said, "I understand there are a lot of Acadians in Maine. There's a woman in Maine who even has a big Acadian webpage." Her co-worker went to look it up, and came back with the address for Lucie LeBlanc Consentino's Acadian Home (not quite Maine, but I'm sure Americans couldn't handle Canadian geography, either).

I asked about artifacts they had found on the grounds, and they showed me the exhibit cases. The exhibits in the visitor center include the bell from the parish church in Beaubassin.

After spending some time in the visitors' center (and the bookstore), I was ready for the grounds. I was warned to watch out for the animals on the grounds, including a porcupine and a skunk.

This place haunts my imagination like no other; the list of prisoners who were released in 1763 includes many of my ancestors, including Joseph Le Blanc, his son Firmin (age 17); Charles and Marie (Chiasson) Forest, and their daughter Ursule (age 7); Michel and Marguerite (Bourgeois) Bourque, and their son Michel (age 13; in 1777 he would marry Ursule Forest). Some of these would return to the area after the exile and would live at Franklin Manor (I wanted to find this site, but forgot to ask when I was in the area).

Walking through the ruins, standing in the casements and the foundations, I tried to imagine these families here; these children, prisoners.
 

At this point, my family's history separates from that of the Louisiana Cajuns. My ancestors resettled in the Memramcook area; Firmin LeBlanc would establish the "LeBlanc" village that would become Chartersville, NB, and would be instrumental in the founding of the parish of St. Anselme.

I stopped first in Memramcook. The LeBlanc name is everywhere, on streets, mailboxes, and businesses. This was the setting for some of the key moments in the Acadian Renaissance of the late 19th century; the Monument Lefebvre honors Fr. Camille Lefebvre, founder of the Collège Saint-Joseph.

The only parish in Memramcook that had been established when my family lived here is St.-Thomas in Saint-Joseph Village. According to the village website, the current structure was consecrated in 1857, so it would have been in the earlier building that my great-great-great grandparents, Laurent LeBlanc and Anne Porelle, were married in 1826.

Standing on the door of the church, you look out on farmland. I was surprised by how sparsely populated the area is. "Memramcook" I imagined to be a town; instead, it is a collection of little villages, sprinkled around the countryside.

I stopped by the Memramcook Historical Society, and browsed through photo albums and genealogy charts, but the LeBlancs living here today are descended from different sons or grandsons of Daniel than I am. A young girl was sitting at the desk, and was in no position to answer questions I might have.

Reflecting on what I was seeing, it didn't take much imagination to realize why my great-great-grandparents, Simon LeBlanc and Obéline Gautreau, left with their family for Connecticut. There was only so much farmland, and it couldn't be divided up forever between the many sons of these large families. There were opportunities in New England, and many Acadians and Quebecois took advantage of them. Assuming my great-great-grandparents left around 1870, when my great-grandmother, Domithilde, was about 7, they left before the Acadian Renaissance really began. Fr. Lefebvre and others were laying the foundations for it; the Collège Saint-Joseph had begun just a few years earlier. But the sense of Acadian identity that was to come was still a dream.

Some of the impetus for the Acadian Renaissance may have come from frustration at the number of Acadians who were leaving. According to Acadia of the Maritimes (pp. 64-65), southeastern New Brunswick was one of the areas from which Acadians were most likely to emigrate.

The literature of the time was harsh on emigrants; their taste for wealth, their contempt for traditional values, especially religious and cultural ones, were denounced:

To those compatriots who are, either directly or indirectly encouraging emigration, shame, contempt, and infamy....

Mercenaries are needed in the United States, slaves [this was actually the word used] are needed, and it is amongst ourselves that they are found. [Le Moniteur acadien, 17 Sept. 1869, p. 1.]

With this kind of hostility, it is not surprising that the links were severed between my family and what family might have remained in New Brunswick.

I continued on my journey, driving over route 905 to Pré d'en Haut, where a little white church stands high above the river. I looked inside the church, but it was built in 1934, long after my family had left. Coming out, an old man waved from the porch next door and said something. I went closer. He was telling me that the side door was open; I told him the front door was also open, which surprised him. He figured the priest must have been by. I stopped to visit a few moments. There's a beautiful view from his front porch. He was interested in my family, and where they had lived. I asked about the way to St-Anselme, and he said I could continue the way I was going, but the road was being worked on and there were a few rough spots; he'd go via the Trans-Canada highway himself. I wasn't in a hurry, and wanted a scenic route --and as it turned out, the road wasn't that bad at all.

Firmin LeBlanc was an important pioneer of this area. Lucie LeBlanc Consentino's webpage tells quite a bit about him, and some of our other common ancestors.

The present church of St-Anselme was built after my family left; my great-grandmother, though, was baptized in its predecessor in 1863, and her parents, Simon and Obeline, were married in it in 1859 (see Lucie's webpage, which also has a picture of the old church).

The door was locked; I knocked at the rectory, and the pastor was willing to open the door for me.

The artwork here, as in Saint-Thomas, reflects the themes I'd expect, showing the importance to Acadians of the Assumption (the Acadian national feast being August 15) and devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

He also directed me to a recently erected memorial to the very first Catholic chapel in the area. To get to it, go up 106 a few blocks, turn left at Rue la Chapelle, and park in the cul-de-sac, a path to the left leads to the memorial.

The plaque tells that the log chapel, dedicated to St-Anselme, was built here on the bank of the Petitcodiac River in 1812. It was then moved to where the current rectory stands, and was used for services until 1839, when a larger wooden church was built. The present church was built in 1900.

Looking toward Moncton, across the marshlands of the Petitcodiac River.

I continued on my way to the Musée acadien at the University of Moncton, which shares a building with the art gallery. The students at the desk didn't have a key to the cash register, and so weren't able to charge me the usual admission. It's a small museum, but has some impressive exhibits.

The cornerstone (1723) and a chalice and paten from Notre-Dame-de-l'Assomption, the parish in Beaubassin.

A crucifix from St.-Charles-des-Mines, the church in Grand-Pré.

A display of various other objects reflecting the faith of the early Acadians.

They also have the original Acadian flag, made in 1884 (no flash photos may be taken of it or of the paintings). There are exhibits of Acadian clothes, farming, household items, etc. 

Continue to July 13.