Saturday, August 29, 2015

8/26 to 8/29 -St. Agatha, Maine

Wednesday’s 260 mile drive from Bar Harbor to St Agatha was another stressful one.  It was beautiful the whole way, but after we got off I-95 (which was great - very smooth with no traffic) the road got rough and curvy.  It was another “let’s make the cats sick” drive like the one in Minnesota.  Even Lovie got sick except she kindly waited until we got her out of the truck.  Then, to add icing to the cake, we set up in a cloudburst and got thoroughly drenched.  We’ve been incredibly lucky in not getting wet in all our many set-ups and break-downs so I guess we were due. 





Taken from the Mount Katahdin overlook on I-95.  This mountain is where the Appalachian Trail ends or starts, depending on which way you’re going.  Unfortunately it was totally hidden by clouds, but it was still a beautiful view.  I’ve seen pictures of it and it’s not that impressive coming from the Great Smokies.


We’re now in the middle of our week in St Agatha.  It’s a tiny place about 12 miles from the town of Madawaska and the border crossing into Edmunston, NB.  This is part of the Upper St John Valley, created by the St John River which is the border between Maine and New Brunswick down to Hamlin, ME, where the border drops south in a straight line for a while before continuing higgledy piggledy to the coast.  This whole area is gorgeous.  It’s part of the northern Appalachians, a lot like home except the mountains are lower.  St Agatha is sort of on the edge of the mountains as the terrain becomes more hilly than mountainous here.  The campground overlooks Long Lake which reminds us of the lakes in western NC and SC but without red clay mud and fluctuating water levels.  The black soil up here can make almost as big a mess (as attested to by the condition of the truck and RV after Wednesday’s rainy drive) but somehow it doesn’t have the same effect as red clay.


The area is very lightly populated so there’s no traffic and no feeling of being overrun by people as we’ve had in many of the places we’ve been.  It’s a predominantly French-speaking area but so far we haven’t run into anyone who couldn’t speak English. 


These were all taken Thursday evening from our campground.  It was impossible to choose just one.  The view is of Long Lake.










Moonrise over Long Lake.


We spent Thursday going over to St-Basile which was the little town many of my ancestors lived in.  It’s now part of Edmunston which is a town of about 16,000 people.  I don’t know if cities do annexations in NB, but it’s probably much like Asheville taking over Arden and Skyland……we still call them by their original names but they’re really part of Asheville now.  They have a very good library with a lot of local history where I gathered a lot of information.  The only problem is that it’s all in French.  My ability to read French is extremely limited, especially without a dictionary handy, but I was able to get the gist of things.  The library we visited today (Saturday) in Madawaska has much more information in English so I’ll be going back there for as much time as possible.


The object of going to St-Basile, apart from just seeing what it looks like, was to visit the cemetery and the library.  The cemetery is well-organized but we couldn’t find the 100+ year-old graves we were looking for.  I suspect the markers for the missing ones have disintegrated to the point of being unreadable or maybe even disappearing.  The very oldest graves have been put in a row marked with new crosses with name plaques attached.  I’m sure they weren’t originally lined up like granny’s onions so must have been moved.  They were undoubtedly falling apart with the names no longer legible.  It’s unfortunate all the oldest ones couldn’t have been marked in the same way.  We went over to the church office across the road but no one was there.  If we go by again and see a car there we’ll stop to see if their cemetery records are available.




The St-Basile cemetery.  Berceau du Madawaska = Cradle of Madawaska.




Chapel of the Pioneers 1786 – at the bottom of the slope between the cemetery and the St John River.



Plaque on the side of the chapel.  In Honor of the Pioneers of Madawaska.  First families arrived in 1785.  The Cyrs listed were five of nine brothers.  I am a direct descendent of Jacques Cyr, Firmin Cyr, Alexandre Ayotte, and Michel Mercure.  Five are not direct ancestors but brothers and a brother-in-law of the four.  




The Alexis Cyr House, dating to the early 1800’s.  Moved to this location in 1981 and restored by the Historical Society.  Alexis Cyr was my 4th great-grandfather.  Imagine going through a lifetime of winters of 20 to 30 degrees below zero in a house like this.  Actually, this could have been better insulated than today’s mobile homes.




Plaque explaining the significance of the Alexis Cyr House.


Madawaska….on both sides of the St John River….is very important to Acadian history.  Its history in a nutshell:  France brought settlers to Acadia starting in the early 1600’s.  France and England were constantly going to war with each other in Europe so Acadia was pulled back and forth depending on which country had won the latest round. By 1710 England had lasting possession of Acadia and changed its name to Nova Scotia. From then on the French settlers were in deep trouble. Britain wanted get rid of them and finally, in 1755, figured out a way to do it. They herded the people of the Grand-Pré, Nova Scotia, area onto ships and spread them down the Atlantic seaboard (to colonies that didn’t want them) and Haiti and across to English prisons and destitution in France.  They had done nothing wrong, had agreed to sign the demanded oaths of allegiance to England, but England wanted their farms for the English and to be rid of “the French problem”.  The deportation, called “le Grand Derangement” or the Great Exile, resulted in 10,000 to 12,000 Acadian deaths and the deliberate and, in many cases permanent, separation of all the families.  In the 20th century this genocide was finally acknowledged and apologized for by the British government. The Acadians who finally ended up in Louisiana are today’s Cajuns, a contraction of the name “Acadian”.  (All Cajuns are descendants of the French but not all are Acadian descendants.)


Not all Acadians were caught and exiled but they all lost their lands and possessions in Acadia.  Some went to the eastern area of Quebec, others escaped the English by going to French-controlled areas which are now in New Brunswick.  The ones who settled in New Brunswick got hammered by the British yet again after the American Revolution when land was wanted for the Loyalists who left the U.S.  Instead of finding unoccupied places for the Loyalists, many were given the farms the Acadians had been working years to develop.  Once again the Acadians were thrown out with no place to go.  They petitioned the government to grant them land in Madawaska, 140 miles up the St John River.  Permission was finally granted and the group listed on the plaque set off immediately.  One of the Acadian leaders who was instrumental in the drive to secure a new settlement was the father of the five Cyr brothers on the plaque (and four other sons who went soon after).  Jean Baptiste Cyr died in 1785 before he could get to Madawaska but at least he knew his family would get there.  He was born the year England took over Acadia (1710) and had spent his entire life trying to live under the rule of a government that wanted him and his people gone.  He was a grandson of the first Cyr who came to Acadia sometime prior to the 1671 census so his family had been there for over 80 years before the Exile.


Even in Madawaska the Acadians were not without trouble from the English.  They were promised title to their land in three years but it took five.  Some of them were so suspicious of English government they were afraid they’d lose all their hard work yet again and left before they got their land titles.  Then there was the 56 year border dispute between Maine and New Brunswick which was finally settled in 1842 by the placement of the international border right down the St John River, effectively dividing one people and culture between two countries.  I gather from talking to locals that the international border didn’t bother anyone until the recent requirement of having a passport to cross the river.  People would still cross the river in boats just like they always had.  Now it’s a lot more of a nuisance. 


Yesterday (Friday) we went down to Van Buren about 35 miles south of St Agatha.  We were looking for the grave stones of some of my relatives.  While we were searching, the church sexton drove up and offered his help with their records.  That was a stroke of good luck as it saved us from going through the whole cemetery.  He said the people we were looking for were buried around the time a nearby local cemetery was dug up and the bodies moved to this one with no records of who was moved.  It’s a small parish which can’t afford to computerize its records so all they’ve got are 3x5 cards filed under the name of the person who purchased the plot.  If the plot was bought by someone with a different last name it would be very hard to find.  The sexton was an interesting person….he was with the U.S. Border Patrol in Texas for a year before deciding that was no place for his family.  Can’t imagine someone from northern Maine being able to tolerate the south Texas climate. 


Van Buren has an historical Acadian village which is made up of original buildings from the area.  They were all dismantled, moved and reconstructed on the site.  They are all full of very interesting information about the people and culture.




In the Acadian Village with the statue of Evangeline.  The heroine of Longfellow’s poem, she’s the symbol of the Acadians.  This is one of only three statues of Evangeline, all modeled on the actress Dolores Del Rio who played the part of Evangeline in the movie decades ago.  The other statues are in St. Martinsville, Louisiana, which we saw last October, and in Grand-Pre, Nova Scotia, where the Exile took place.  Longfellow's poem is fiction but it represents the Acadian exile.




Some of the reconstructed and renovated buildings, all good examples of original Acadian structures.  Steeply pitched roofs help snow slide off.


Today (Saturday) we went 12 miles north to Fort Kent which is a small town but big enough to have its own branch of the University of Maine.  The one site of historical significance is the Block House which was built as a fort to defend the area in the Aroostook War, the “bloodless war” over the border dispute in which no shots were ever fired.  (Aroostook is the name of the county we’re in.  The rest of Maine just calls it “The County.”  It’s the biggest county east of the Mississippi.)  The border dispute lasted for 56 years and became very complicated.  Maine claimed land many miles up into New Brunswick.  Britain claimed land about a third of the way down Maine.  Caught in the middle once again were the Acadians who ended up with their communities split by the border which was finally agreed upon after years of negotiation and mediation by people as diverse as an Indian chief and a European monarch (whose decision was accepted by Britain but rejected by the U.S.).




The Block House in Fort Kent.  If there had been a firefight the occupants would have smoked themselves out or died of smoke inhalation.




Main Street in Fort Kent with the Acadian flag on every third light pole.





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