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Tadoussac Ferry Photos since the late 1800's / Traversiers sur le Saguenay depuis plus de 100 ans The Ferries - Des Traversiers Tadoussac < > Baie Sainte Catherine In the early 1900's the Price Tugboats "Muriel" and the "Mahone" carried passangers between Riviere du Loup, Baie Sainte Catherine, and Tadoussac, and other places. Au début des années 1900, les remorqueurs "Muriel" et le "Mahone" de l'entreprise Price ont transporté des passangers entre Riviere du Loup, Baie Ste Catherine et Tadoussac, et d'autres endroits. MURIEL Many of these photos are from the Facebook Page "Amateurs de Traversiers au Québec" (Fans of Ferries in Quebec) Thanks to all the contributors! Amateurs de Traversiers au Quebec Plusieurs de ces photos proviennent de la page Facebook "Amateurs de Traversiers au Québec" Merci à tous les contributeurs! MAHONE Launched 1909 84' long L'équipage du "Mahone" Capitaine Johnny DesLauriers Des pistes dans la neige Quelque part sur le fleuve, entre Tadoussac et Rivière-du-Loup, les membres de l'équipage du Mahone échangent avec les riverains. Les pistes qu'on voit dans la neige au premier plan sont vraisemblablement celles de l'homme d'affaires et photographe amateur Jean-Baptiste Dupuis. On pouvait même compter sur la présence à bord de deux photographes cette jourée-là puisque Stanislas Belle, actionnaire de la compagnie Trans-Saint-Laurent Limitée, était lui aussi de la partie. Photos trouvées sur le traversier St Siméon/Rivière du Loup Tracks in the snow Along the river at some point between Tadoussac and Rivière-du-Loup, the crew members of the Mahone fraternize with shore dwellers. The tracks in the foreground are most likely those of businessman and amateur photographer Jean-Baptiste Dupuis. Two cameras were on hand to chronicle this day, as fellow photographer Stanislas Belle, a shareholder in the Trans-Saint-Laurent company was also on board. Photos found on the St Simeon/Riviere du Loup ferry Musée du Bas-Saint-Laurent, Rivière du Loup Fonds Jean-Baptiste Dupuis The "Mahone" at Anse à L'Eau, Tadoussac. THOR 1911-1916 The "Thor", one of the most powerful tugs of the Price Company, was used on the Saguenay for several years for the refueling of shipyards and the transportation of employees. In 1911, the Trans-Saint Laurent Ltee puts the Thor into operation, between Riviere-du-Loup and Tadoussac. Built in Lévis in 1881, this side-paddlewheel steamer is only used during the summer season and for Sunday excursions, it will be sold in 1916. The Thor at Anse à L'Eau, Tadoussac. Le "Thor", l'un des plus puissants remorqueurs de la compagnie Price, a été utilisé pendant plusieurs années sur le Saguenay pour le ravitaillement en carburant des chantiers et le transport des employés. En 1911, le Trans-Saint Laurent Ltee met en service le Thor, entre Rivière-du-Loup et Tadoussac. Construit à Lévis en 1881, ce paquebot à roue à aubes latérale n’est utilisé que pendant la saison estivale et pour les excursions du dimanche, il sera vendu en 1916. Le Thor à l'Anse à l'Eau, Tadoussac. February 15, 1909 ICE BRIDGE The last cold of January contributed to form the ice bridge between Tadoussac and Baie Ste Catherine. The first to venture there was M. Gabriel Boulianne of Tadoussac, on February 7th, M. Boulianne was accompanied by his two nephews. ÉMÉRILLON 1920's Ferry? No photos PIXIE B Goélettes served as ferries between the wharves in Baie Ste Catherine and Tadoussac when the road from Quebec City was still a dangerously twisted unpaved road, and most people traveled to Tadoussac by ship. The "Pixie B" is in the wharf. The photo is taken from the bow of the CSL Steamer which is arriving, the people and vehicles are there to meet the boat. ~ 1930 Les goélettes servaient de traversier entre les quais de Baie Sainte-Catherine et Tadoussac lorsque la route de Québec était encore une route non pavée dangereusement sinueuse et que la plupart des gens se rendaient à Tadoussac en bateau. Le « Pixie B » est au quai. La photo est prise de la proue du bateau à vapeur CSL qui arrive, les gens et les véhicules sont là pour accueillir le bateau. ~ 1930 Painting by Frank Morewood, about 1930. The goelette at the wharf in Tadoussac is the Pixie B and it towed the barge which could carry two cars. Painting par Frank Morewood ~ 1930. La goélette au quai de Tadoussac est le Pixie B et remorquer le chaland qui pourrait transporter deux voitures. Wreck of the Pixie B. It finished its career next to the Bar Orace in Ile aux Coudres early 80's photo Éric Desbiens Épave du Pixie B. Il finit sa carrière à coté du bar Chez Orace à l'Ile aux Coudres au début 80 photo Éric Desbiens The Pixie B in the Tadoussac Drydock in the 1940's with the "Norouâ" L e Pixie B en cale sèche de Tadoussac dans les années 40 avec le Norouâ N.B.T. Noel Brisson Transport The "N.B.T." (Noel Brisson Transport) Built by Armand Imbeau in 1939?, 75' long, carried up to six cars on deck. Note the gap in the far gunwale for the cars, and the two ramps on deck. Le "N.B.T." (Noel Brisson Transport) Construit par Armand Imbeau en 1939?, 75' long, porté jusqu'à six voitures. Notez l'écart de l'autre côté pour les voitures, et les deux rampes sur le pont. 1930's Text describing the Tadoussac-Baie Ste Catherine crossing in the late 30's in the biography of Jean-Louis Gendron, former NCB Bank employee. On another trip, there was a storm. We had been waiting for three days in Tadoussac for a schooner that was making the crossing from Tadoussac to Baie Ste-Catherine. The docks of these two municipalities were covered with a layer of ice more than a foot thick. The postilion and I had crossed the Saguenay River from Tadoussac to Baie Ste-Catherine in a gasoline-powered boat through the ice. The tide being low, we were able to get on the wharf at Baie Ste-Catherine by means of a small cable attached to it by a coachman whom we had hired by telephone from Tadoussac! |It was hard to travel and work under such conditions in those days, but fortunately working conditions have improved considerably since then. Texte décrivant le passage frontalier Tadoussac-Baie Ste Catherine à la fin des années 30 dans la biographie de Jean-Louis Gendron, ancien employé de NCB Bank. Lors d'un autre voyage, il y avait eu tempête. Nous attendions depuis trois jours à Tadoussac une goélette qui faisait la traversée de Tadoussac à Baie Ste-Catherine. Les quais de ces deux municipalités étaient recouverts d'une couche de glace de plus d'un pied. Le postillon et moi avions traversé la rivière Saguenay, de Tadoussac à Baie Ste-Catherine, en chaloupe à gazoline, à travers les glaces. La marée étant basse, nous avons pu monter sur le quai, à Baie Ste-Catherine, au moyen d'un petit câble attaché à ce dernier par un cocher que nous avions engagé par téléphone de Tadoussac! || était pénible de voyager et de travailler dans de telles conditions en ce temps-là, mais heureusement les conditions de travail se sont sensiblement améliorées depuis ce temps. JACQUES CARTIER The first real car ferry, holding 12 cars ~1930's - 1958 Le premier véritable traversier pour voitures, pouvant accueillir 12 voitures ~Années 1930 à 1958 Au quai d'Anse à l'Eau, Tadoussac . Le Jacques Cartier et un bateau CSL Baie Ste Catherine Circa 1952 Une belle photo de Jack Molson At right, the Morewood family, Bill, Betty (my mother) and their mother Carrie (Rhodes) Morewood. (colourized) VVV BULLDOZER VVV Vehicles are getting bigger in the 1950's! Larger ferries are coming soon. Both trucks are PUIZE TRANSPORT. Les véhicules grossissent dans les années 50! Des ferries plus importants arrivent bientôt. Les deux camions sont PUIZE TRANSPORT August 1950, the CSL Quebec burned at the wharf, and the Jacques Cartier came over to help. En août 1950, la CSL Québec a brûlé au quai et la Jacques Cartier est venue aider. Late 1950's, the Dewart Family waiting for the ferry at Anse à l'Eau, Tadoussac St Simeon, the big ferry crosses the St Lawrence to Riviere du Loup Saint-Siméon, le grand traversier traverse le Saint-Laurent jusqu'à la Rivière-du-Loup What happened to the Jacques Cartier Somewhere on the St Lawrence, not sure of the dates. These photos are NOT in Tadoussac! Qu'est-il arrivé au Jacques Cartier Quelque part sur le Saint-Laurent, je ne suis pas certain des dates. Ces photos ne sont PAS à Tadoussac! SORELOIS THE SORELOIS: Steel ferry built in 1899 in Montreal, and used along with Jacques Cartier between Baie-Sainte-Catherine and Tadoussac. LE SORELOIS: Traversier en acier construit en 1899 à Montréal et utilisé avec Jacques Cartier entre Baie-Sainte-Catherine et Tadoussac. Many of these photos are from the Facebook Page "Amateurs de Traversiers au Québec" (Fans of Ferries in Quebec) Thanks to all the contributors! Amateurs de Traversiers au Quebec Plusieurs de ces photos proviennent de la page Facebook "Amateurs de Traversiers au Québec" Merci à tous les contributeurs! SAGUENAY and CHARLEVOIX The "Saguenay" 21 cars and the "Charlevoix" 27 cars. 1958 to 1980 La "Saguenay" 21 voitures and la "Charlevoix" 27 voitures. 1958 à 1980 1962 on the ferry in winter My mother Betty Evans admiring the ice on the anchor winch. My brother Lewis Evans in the ski mask (it was cold!) 1962 sur le ferry en hiver Ma mère Betty Evans admirant la glace sur le treuil d'ancre. Mon frère Lewis Evans dans le masque de ski (il faisait froid!) 1964 The Royal Yacht "Brittania" escorted by the destroyer "HMCS Restigouche" 1964 Le yacht royal "Britannia" escorté par le destroyer "NCSM Restigouche" 1960's The ferry trying to pull the "St Lawrence" off the sandbar (see the SHIPWRECKS page) 1960 Le ferry en essayant de tirer le "Saint-Laurent" hors du banc de sable (Voir la page SHIPWRECKS) circa 1975 Forest Fire on La Boule The other ferry is probably the "Pierre de Saurel" in service from 1974 circa 1975 Feu de forêt sur La Boule L'autre traversier est probablement la "Pierre de Saurel" en service à partir de 1974 circa 1972 We used to "see people off" saying goodbye to Tadoussac at the end of the summer at the ferry wharf, probably the McCarters. Evan Ballantyne, Guy and Jean Smith, Susie Scott (Bruemmer), David Younger, Trevor Williams , Steven Webster, (Belle Ballantyne (Corrigan), David Williams (kneeling), Jennifer Williams, Cinny Price and her pet duck (who has a pet duck?), Alan Evans, Gwen Skutezky, Enid (Price) Williams, Sally Williams, Mary Fowler, Penny Younger circa 1972 Nous dirions adieu aux personnes qui quittent Tadoussac à la fin de l'été au quai du traversier Wait! That's not the right way! Where are you going? Attendez! Tu ne vas pas dans le bon sens! Où allez-vous? MV Armand-Imbeau (capacity 367 passengers and 75 vehicles) MV Jos-Deschênes (capacity 367 passengers and 75 vehicles) MV Félix-Antoine-Savard (capacity 376 passengers and 70 vehicles) PONT SAGUENAY Many studies have explored the feasibility of building a bridge at the mouth of the Saguenay River—a major and complex project due to the river's size. The preferred location would likely be around 8 km upriver from Tadoussac, near La Boule, rather than directly at Tadoussac. De nombreuses études ont exploré la faisabilité de la construction d'un pont à l'embouchure de la rivière Saguenay, un projet majeur et complexe en raison de la taille de la rivière. L'emplacement de choix serait probablement à environ 8 km en amont de Tadoussac, près de La Boule, plutôt que directement à Tadoussac. 107

Historic photographs of Tadoussac Quebec in the 1800's and 1900's. A rich history of a beautiful place. TidesofTadoussac.com TABLE DES MATIÈRES & DATES importantes en bas de cette page search! cherchez! TABLE OF CONTENTS & Key DATES at the bottom of this page DATES TADOUSSAC the oldest photos Maps & Images Hudson's Bay Station Anse à L'Eau Buildings Disappeared Main Street Rue Principale Golf View from High Up Drydock - La Cale Sèche Molson Museum Horses, Buggies and Cars The Dunes Shipwrecks The Old Wooden Wharf Yawls & Small Boats BOATS & SHIPS Canoes,Punts,Rowboats Ferries Ma rina Goelettes Dallaire's Boat Rivière SAGUENAY River Geology Moulins du Saguenay Saguenay Mills Cap a Jack Anchorages Lark Reef, La Toupie Endroits Intéressants 1930's 1950's High Tide Club Charlevoix Crater Houses/Maisons à Tadoussac et Québec Benmore, Quebec Rhodes Cottage Spruce Cliff Radford Fletcher Lilybell Rhodes ART Paintings by Tom Evans RHODES FAMILY Rhodes - Family Tree William Rhodes&Ann Smith William Rhodes & Anne Dunn Uncle James Rhodes Armitage Rhodes Godfrey Rhodes William Rhodes Jim Williams Rhodes Grandchildren EVANS FAMILY Francis Evans EVANS Dean Lewis Evans & May & Emily Bethune Betty and Lewis Evans RUSSELL William Russell & Fanny Eliza Pope CONTACT PAGE At the confluence of the St. Lawrence and Saguenay rivers, Tadoussac and its surrounding area were a meeting place and a crossroads for trade between First Nations people that have been here for 8000 years. These two major waterways enabled European explorers and traders to enter into the continent. Natives traded with Basques whalers and Breton cod fishermen as early as the 14th Century. As he was sailing up the St. Lawrence in 1535, Jacques Cartier was taken aback by the sheer beauty of the area and dropped anchor in the bay to visit. Pierre de Chauvin built a fur-trading post in 1600, the first building in New France. In May of 1603, Samuel de Champlain sealed an alliance between the French and the First Nations near Tadoussac. It was a commercial, military and foundational agreement that would lead to the establishment of Québec City five years later. After having lived off the fur trade, fishing and whaling, and then the forest industry, in 1864 the village built its first hotel to accommodate summer vacationers. Since then, tourism has been the pillar of local and regional socioeconomic life. Please email me more DATES to add to this list 1535 Jacques Cartier discovers the Saguenay Fjord 1600 Construction of a house and establishment of a fur trading post by Pierre de Chauvin 1647&1747 Chapel built 1838 Price Sawmill built 1848 Price Sawmill closed 1859 Hudson's Bay Post closed 1860 Brynhyfryd built 1861 Spruce Cliff built 1861 Molson Beattie house built 1862 Tadalac built 1864 Tadoussac Hotel built 1864 Powel/Bailey House built 1864 Cid's built 1865 Price Row built 1867 Protestant Chapel built 1869 A rudimentary road links Les Escoumins to Tadoussac 1870 Hudson's Bay Post Demolished 1873 (Spring) The Governor General of Canada, the Marquis Dufferin, builds his summer residence in Tadoussac. 1874 Establishment of a salmon fish farm by Samuel Wilmot in the former facilities of William Price at Anse-à-l'Eau. 1885-9 Église de la Sainte-Croix built 1899-1901 Tadoussac Hotel expansion 1912? Wharf built 1914 Piddington built Ivanhoe 1923 Bourgouin & Dumont Fire 1927 A ferry between Baie-Sainte-Catherine and Tadoussac is in service year round 1927 CSL St Lawrence Launched 1928 CSL Tadoussac and Quebec launched 1931 Destruction by fire of Radford House 1932 Destruction by fire of Brynhyfryd, rebuilt the same yea 1932 Maison Molson/Beattie or Noel Brisson built (Moulin Baude) 1936 Windward built 1942 New Hotel Tadoussac built 1942 Maison Chauvin reconstruction 1942 Power Station at Moulin Baude built 1946 Destruction by fire of Église de la Sainte-Croix 1948 Turcot House built 1950 Destruction by fire of the CSL Quebec at the wharf 1966 End of CSL boats 1986 Webster house built À la confluence du Saint-Laurent et de la rivière du Saguenay. Tadoussac et ses proches environs constituaient un lieu de rassemblement et un carrefour d’échanges entre Premières Nations, présentes sur le territoire depuis 8 000 ans. Ces cours d’eau majeurs ont permis aux explorateurs et aux commerçants venus d’Europe de pénétrer le continent. Dès le XIVe siècle, les autochtones ont commercé avec les chasseurs basques de baleines et les pêcheurs bretons de morue. En 1535, alors qu’il remonte le Saint-Laurent, Jacques Cartier est saisi par sa beauté du site et jette l'ancre dans la baie pour le visiter. Pierre de Chauvin y construit un poste de traite de fourrures en 1600, le premier bâtiment de la Nouvelle-France. En mai 1603, Samuel de Champlain scelle tout près de Tadoussac une alliance entre les Français et les peuples autochtones. Il s’agit d’une entente commerciale, militaire et d’établissement qui ouvre la voie à la fondation de Québec cinq ans plus tard. Après avoir vécu du commerce des fourrures, de la pêche et de la chasse à la baleine, puis de l’industrie forestière, c’est en 1864 que le village construit le premier hôtel pour accueillir les villégiateurs estivaux. Depuis, le tourisme constitue un pilier de la vie socioéconomique locale et régionale. S'il vous plaît écrivez-moi plus de DATES à ajouter à cette liste 1535 Jacques Cartier découvre le fjord du Saguenay 1600 Construction d'une maison et établissement d'un poste de traite des fourrures par Pierre de Chauvin 1647&1747 Chapelle construite 1838 Scierie Price construite 1848 Prix Scierie fermée 1859 Fermeture du poste de la Baie d'Hudson 1860 Brynhyfryd construit 1861 Spruce Cliff construite 1861 Maison Molson Beattie construite 1862 Tadalac construit 1864 Tadoussac Hôtel construit 1864 Construction de la maison Powel/Bailey 1864 Cid construit 1865 Price Row construit 1867 Chapelle protestante construite 1869 Une route rudimentaire relie Les Escoumins à Tadoussac 1870 Poste de la Baie d'Hudson démoli 1873 (printemps) Le gouverneur général du Canada, le marquis Dufferin, construit sa résidence d'été à Tadoussac. 1874 Établissement d'une pisciculture de saumon par Samuel Wilmot dans les anciennes installations de William Price à Anse-à-l'Eau. 1885-9 Église de la Sainte-Croix construite 1899-1901 Agrandissement de l'hôtel Tadoussac 1912 ? Quai construite 1914 Piddington construit Ivanhoe 1923 Destruction par le feu Bourgouin & Dumont 1927 Un traversier entre Baie-Sainte-Catherine et Tadoussac est en service à l'année 1927 CSL St Lawrence lancé 1928 CSL Tadoussac and Quebec lancé 1931 Destruction par le feu de Radford House 1932 Destruction par le feu de Brynhyfryd, reconstruit la même année 1932 Maison Molson/Beattie ou Noel Brisson built (Moulin Baude) 1936 Windward construit 1942 Nouvel Hôtel Tadoussac construit 1942 Reconstruction de la Maison Chauvin 1942 Construction de la centrale électrique du Moulin Baude 1946 Destruction par le feu de l'église de la Sainte-Croix 1948 Maison Turcot construite 1950 Destruction par le feu du CSL Québec au quai 1966 Fin des bateaux CSL 1986 Construction de la maison Webster DATES 50

Tadoussac has one of the largest natural drydocks, filled with boats in the winter / Une des plus grandes cale sèches naturelles. The Drydock - La Cale Sèche Read Armand Imbeau Contractor and Builder of Goélettes by Daniel Delisle PhD with the precious collaboration of Claudine Imbeau, granddaughter of Armand Imbeau at the bottom of this page Imbeau biography NB We have no photos of Armand Imbeau! Please help! Send to tomfevans@icloud.com Lire Armand Imbeau Entrepreneur et Constructeur de Goélettes par Daniel Delisle PhD avec la précieuse collaboration de Claudine Imbeau, petite fille de Armand Imbeau en bas de cette page Imbeau biography NB Nous n'avons pas de photos d'Armand Imbeau ! S'il vous plaît aider! Envoyer à tomfevans@icloud.com Samuel de Champlain drew this small bay on his map from 1600 Samuel de Champlain a esquissé cette petite entrée sur sa carte de 1600 BEFORE there was a drydock in Tadoussac, there was a lovely small bay with a beach, which filled up and emptied with the tides. This is the oldest photograph I have found which shows part of that bay, about 1900 (colourized) AVANT la cale sèche à Tadoussac, il y avait une belle petite baie avec une plage, qui rempli et vidé avec les marées. C'est la photo la plus ancienne que j'ai trouvé qui montre une partie de cette baie, vers 1900 Painting by Frank Morewood 1930's Painting by Tom Evans 2022 In this aerial photo from 1940's the drydock looks like it is full of water. Photo aérienne environ 1945. La cale sèche semble être plein d'eau. Painting by Thomas Garside from 1930, with the Pilot House and some sheds, probably before the gates were installed by Armand Imbeau in 1932. Peinture de Thomas Garside à partir de 1930, avec le Pilot House et quelques hangars, probablement devant les portes ont été installés par Armand Imbeau en 1932 A good place to repair the boat in the 1930's Un bon endroit pour réparer le bateau dans les années 1930 Imbeau's Drydock The establishment of Imbeau's drydock at Tadoussac in 1932 is a fine example of ingenuity and economy of means from its designer. Taking advantage of the natural features of a small bay with steep rock walls, the doors are attached directly to the rock, at the place where there is a narrow entrance to the bay. It's the tide that does the work. Once the boats are aground in the bay, the doors are closed and the trick is played! Painting by Tom Evans Armand Imbeau revisited a tradition dating back to the birth of New France. Prior to 1630, ships supplying the colony stopped over at Tadoussac where lower-tonnage boats took over to reach Quebec. Before going back to their home port, the ships were refurbished by the village's carpenters and caulkers. Armand Imbeau renouait ainsi avec une tradition remontantaux aux débuts de la Nouvelle-France. Avant 1630, les navires qui ravitaillaient la colonie s'arretaient a Tadoussac. Des embarcations de plus faible tonnage prenaient ensuite le relais jusqu'à Quebec. Avant de rapartir vers leur port d'attache, les navires etaient remis en état par les charpentiers et les calfats du village. Painting by Tom Evans Sketch by Lilybell Rhodes circa 1939 Noroua, a small schooner owned by my father, Lewis Evans, and stored in the drydock in the winter, 1940's Noroua, une petite goélette appartenant à mon père, Lewis Evans, et maintenus en la cale sèche en hiver, 1940 The new boathouse above was built for Arthur Price for his boat the "Empress of Tadoussac". In the winter many goelettes were kept in the drydock, a beautiful sight. Le nouveau hangar à bateaux ci-dessus a été construit pour Arthur Price pour son bateau "Empress of Tadoussac". En hiver, de nombreuses goelettes étaient conservées en cale sèche, une belle vue. In 1951 Lewis Evans (my father) sold the Noroua and bought a very old Lower St Lawrence Yawl, the "Bonne Chance", above sailing on the Saguenay. The gates to the dry dock can be seen in the background. The boat was christened in the drydock with my baby bottle (I was born in 1951). Doing the honours, my sister Anne and brother Lewis. En 1951, Lewis Evans (mon père) vendit le Noroua et acheta un très vieux Lower St Lawrence Yawl, le "Bonne Chance", au-dessus de la voile sur le Saguenay. Les portes de la cale sèche sont visibles à l'arrière-plan. Le bateau a été baptisé en cale sèche avec mon biberon (je suis né en 1951). Je fais les honneurs, ma soeur Anne et mon frère Lewis. Many photos of the Bonne Chance in the dry dock in 1951! The 3 colour photos were taken by Jack Molson, who bought the boat from my father in 1967 and built a barn for it in Anse à L'Eau, where it still resides! De nombreuses photos de la Bonne Chance en cale sèche en 1951! Les 3 photos en couleurs ont été prises par Jack Molson, qui a acheté le bateau à mon père en 1967 et lui a construit une grange à Anse à L'Eau, où il réside toujours ! Some photos are in poor condition, but still have a lot of information, I bet that's James Beattie (from a negative). Certaines photos sont en mauvais état, mais contiennent encore beaucoup d'informations, je pense qu'il s'agit de James Beattie (d'après un négatif). When I was a kid in the 1950's I'd climb the mountain beside the drydock. The photo above is our boat the "Bonne Chance" (now stored in the Molson Barn by the lake). Recently I tried to take the same picture during the end of season party, but the trees had grown so I couldn't get quite the same angle. Quand je suis jeune dans les années 1950 je monte la montagne à côté de la cale sèche. La photo ci-dessus est notre bateau, le "Bonne Chance" (maintenant situé dans la Molson Barn au bord du lac). Récemment, je ai essayé de prendre la même image pendant la fête de fin saison, mais les arbres sont devenus donc je ne pouvais pas obtenir le même angle. Drawing in coloured pencil by Lilybell Rhodes 1958 The Pilot House 1960's The end of the season - Guy Smith on the "Hobo" entering the drydock at high tide, for winter storage. Lots of spectators on the rocks, maybe his daughters Ann, Pam and Penny? Années 1960 La fin de la saison - Guy Smith sur le " Hobo " entrant dans la cale sèche à marée haute, pour le stockage d'hiver. Beaucoup de spectateurs sur les rochers, peut-être ses filles Ann, Pam et Penny ? In this close-up, Guy Smith is steering the boat (no shirt) and that's probably ARMAND IMBEAU sitting on top of the gate! Dans ce détail, Guy Smith est le pilotage du bateau (pas de chemise) et c'est probablement ARMAND IMBEAU assis sur le dessus de la porte! This painting was done by Guy Smith, the owner of the Hobo, from the photo above. Cette peinture a été réalisée par Guy Smith, le propriétaire de la Hobo, partir de la photo ci-dessus Painting by Tom Evans These two photos were taken at the same time, with the Hobo and a large yawl. Ces deux photos ont été prises en même temps, avec le Hobo et un grand yawl. The Pecks from Cocouna had a sailboat called "Redwing" and it rested in the drydock one winter. about 1960 Le Pecks de Cocouna avait un voilier appelé "Redwing" et il reposait dans la cale sèche d'un hiver. vers 1960 The other boat started out as Lex Smith's "Penwa" (left) and later owned by the Leggats, called the "Gal" (for Gertrude Anne Leggat (Nan)) and below there's Bob Leggat doing some repairs! L'autre bateau a commencé sous le nom de "Penwa" de Lex Smith (à gauche) et a ensuite appartenu aux Leggats, appelé "Gal" (pour Gertrude Anne Leggat (Nan)) et en dessous, Bob Leggat fait quelques réparations ! In 1962 my family visited Tadoussac at New Year's. We stayed at the Hotel Georges. The goelettes in the drydock were a beautiful sight. En 1962, ma famille a visité Tadoussac au Nouvel An. Nous avons séjourné à l'Hôtel Georges. Les Goelettes dans la cale sèche étaient un spectacle magnifique. That's me and my brothers on the left. Ce moi et mes frères sur la gauche. This photo was sent to me by Patrick O'Neill, many of the boats are the same but some are different, not the same winter! Cette photo m'a été envoyé par Patrick O'Neill, la plupart des bateaux sont les mêmes, mais autres sont différents, pas la même hiver! The "Bonne Chance" ready to go at the beginning of the summer, owned by Lewis Evans. La "Bonne Chance" de Lewis Evans prêt pour son lancement au début de l'été. Yawl built by Captain Dallaire Yawl construit par le capitaine Dallaire Armand Imbeau standing on the gate of the Drydock Armand Imbeau debout sur la porte de la Cale Sèche Imbeau biography Armand Imbeau Contractor and Builder of Schooners Certain people, places and events are essential to Tadoussac. The bay, one of the "beautiful bays in the world", the dunes and of course, the "Toupie" from the Prince Shoal in the distance, the little chapel, all are distinctive emblems of the place. The fire of the SS Quebec at the Quai de Tadoussac in 1950 will also remain an event that will be remembered. Among the people, we certainly recognize the names of certain witnesses of the past. This is the case of the famous captain Jos Deschênes and the entrepreneur Armand Imbeau, Tadoussaciens whose names have been attributed to the first and second generation ferries that shuttle incessantly between Baie-Ste-Catherine and Tadoussac. Long before the ferries, the Côte-Nord knew the age of navigation born of local necessity: transport of essential products from the large centers to towns and villages, and shipments of natural resources, notably wood from the sawmills of the region to distribution centers. To meet these needs, Quebec shipbuilders have developed expertise in the construction of wood, sail and later motor vessels, particularly flat-bottomed schooners allowing beaching on the shore to facilitate loading in places without dock. Among these renowned schooner builders from the Charlevoix and Côte-Nord regions, is Armand Imbeau, son of a shipwright from Baie-Ste-Catherine. Navigator, carpenter, entrepreneur, citizen involved in his community, Armand Imbeau left his mark on his profession, his city, his region and his time. Imbeau de Charlevoix The surname Imbeau (Imbeault, Imbault or Imbeaux) was very common in the Charlevoix region between the 17th and the 19th century. We find traces of the ancestor of the Imbeault, François Imbeault (1737-1823) dit Lagrange, a French soldier, and his wife Catherine Ringuet, in La Malbaie – Pointe-au-Pic. Gradually, we note the presence of many families of descent further north of the region, from Saint-Siméon to St-Firmain (Baie-Sainte-Catherine). At the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th, Imbeau moved to the Haute-Côte-Nord. (1, 2) Born in Baie-Sainte-Catherine on August 30, 1896, Armand Imbeau was the son of Thomas Imbeau, from Baie-Sainte-Catherine, a carpenter by trade, and Marie Laprise from Grandes-Bergeronnes. At that time, several Imbeau families were established in Baie-Sainte-Catherine. Thomas, Armand’s father, had another son, Lucien, and six daughters who all married in St-Firmain. He also had a famous cousin, Thomas-Louis (Mrg Imbeault, Bishop of Charlevoix), the son of Louis Imbeault, also from Baie-Ste-Catherine. Armand studied carpentry and learned shipbuilding from his father. Erudite and self-taught, Armand Imbeau mastered the language of Molière as well as that of Shakespeare. According to his granddaughter, he had a vast vocabulary and expressed himself in an excellent way. At the age of 25, on April 22, 1919, he married in Tadoussac, Marie-Louise Caron, teacher at the village school (1900 -?), 19 years old, daughter of Mr. John (Benny) Caron and Ms. Éveline Pedneault from Tadoussac. From this union are born five children; Georgette (Marie-Louise-Emma-Georgette), March 11, 1920, died May 25, 1973. She will marry Émile Baril (1904-1989) from Saint-Charles de Mandeville on June 30, 1956. The couple will have no children. Mr. Baril will be a teacher and principal of the Tadoussac elementary school; Jacques, born in 1924 in Tadoussac and died in La Malbaie in 2011. On October 1, 1949, he married Jaqueline Gauthier (1930-2013), daughter of Hector Gauthier, owner of the Hotel Gauthier which would become the Manoir Tadoussac, and of Émilie Brisson. Jacques Imbeau, employed by the Ministry of Lands and Forests, is called upon to work in Hauterive and Havre-St-Pierre. A child will be born from this union, Claudine, the last of the line of Armand Imbeau; Simonne, who died very young (1927-1939); Rachelle (1933-1937) died at the age of 4; Jacqueline (19 ??), who married Rosaire Bouchard (1924-1987) on May 15, 1954 in Tadoussac. The couple settled in Chicoutimi, parents of two boys, Pierre and Jean, who died in infancy. The Imbeau dry dock At the western end of the beach, overlooking the bay before reaching L'Islet, is to the right, at the south-eastern foot of the hill of Anse à l'eau, a small cove, a natural basin which extends the Anse à L'Islet, of which a band of rocks delimits the entrance: the “Dry dock”. Filling at high tide, the place provides access to the deep fjord and makes it easier for ships to enter and launch. On the beach side, the cove is separated from the bay by an isthmus connecting the peninsula to the mainland. Some residents of Tadoussac settle on the bay beach to build boats. In 1923, Mr. Imbeau rented the site from its owners: the Canada Steamship Lines. In 1930, he founded the “Imbeau Dry Dock” in Tadoussac, a company specializing in the construction and repair of wood-hulled ships, particularly those intended for the transport of wood and for yachting. The dry dock will be operational in November 1931. It will be dug by hand the following year to improve its functionality. Thanks to a government subsidy obtained with the support of the municipality and the village priest, the citizens are hired for two weeks at the dry dock site. In order to stimulate the local economy, after two weeks another group of workers took over to allow as many people as possible to get paid work in these difficult times. A building for the storage of materials and tools is erected on the rocks, where the facilities of the "Center for the Interpretation of Marine Mammals" are currently located. We found in this garage, the various tools of the carpenter, such as adzes, several caulking irons and caulking mallets, augers, hand chignoles, crankshafts, planes, gouges, several wood chisels, saws, scrolling hands, planes of all sizes, etc. Massive wooden doors are installed at the entrance to the cove to control the entry of water. Construction and repair activities would take place there until around 1965, a few years before Mr. Imbeau's death. The golden age of the shipyard's activities was between 1930 and 1950. According to government statistics for the registration of new ships, during this period at least 300 motorized wood coasters were built in Quebec, of which nearly 40% in the Charlevoix region. In Tadoussac, a dozen goelettes will emerge from the Imbeau dry dock, including the Saint-Jude in 1935, the Victoire in 1936, the Tadoussac Transport in 1938, the Royal Trader in 1939 and the Vaillant in 1943, his personal boat the St-Étienne Murray Bay in 1939, the Raguenau in 1941. Given the limited space of the dry dock, the boats built had to be of small and medium tonnage. (3, 4) The post-war industrial boom and the construction of roads connecting the towns and villages of the Charlevoix and Côte-Nord regions contributed to the decrease in naval transport needs and marked the end of the schooner era as well as small shipyards. Armand Imbeau nonetheless continued to repair and winterize the boats in the dry dock until around 1965. A man of many talents, he builds a few houses. To fill in the free time that remains to him, he tinkers, repairs everything that is entrusted to him. He even went so far as to act as a shoemaker, an area in which he excelled. When a national park was created, the "Saguenay – St. Lawrence Marine Park" in 1998, the then inactive site was acquired by the provincial government and integrated into the park. Today, under municipal administration, the Imbeau dry dock accommodates pleasure boats during the winter season. In summer, the place serves as a car park for tourists. Armand Imbeau: The involved citizen The social involvement of Mr. Armand Imbeau is also notable. A city councilor from 1928 to 1939, he devoted his life to fostering the economic prosperity of his region and employed up to 75 people at the turn of the 1940s. (5) Armand Imbeau was also involved for several years in the organizations of the Sainte-Croix Church as churchwarden or in the League of the Sacred Heart. An unusual event: The archaeological treasure An unusual event happened to Armand Imbeau in 1923. The year following his marriage, he bought Arthur Hovington's residence located near L'Islet, on a plateau overlooking the Dry Dock Cove, facing the Saguenay River. The young father is busy digging the dirt cellar. A few shovels from the surface, he discovers a canvas pouch containing old coins. The nest egg consisted of 102 coins. Two of them were white metal coins of a size equivalent to today's Canadian dollar. They are in good condition, without excessive wear and bear the effigy of Louis XIV, and date respectively from 1655 and 1659. Two others of the same metal are smaller and more worn, dating from 1591. The rest of the collection includes pieces of yellow metal, a little larger than a dime and relatively worn with time. They are from the same period as the first two. (6) History does not say whether the "treasure" had a great market value which would have enriched its owner, but according to the numismatic archaeologists consulted, the historical value is really significant. Where are these coins? After a while, Armand Imbeau gives them to his boy Jacques, who takes care of them for many years. While the latter resided in Hauterive, the coins disappeared during a theft from the family home. At the end of a busy life, Armand Imbeau passed away in Tadoussac in 1969 at the venerable age of 76. A family monument is erected at the ancestral cemetery of Tadoussac. He left as a legacy marking his village a host of economic achievements and social contributions. His name, which now names two ships of the Société des Traversiers du Québec, is known throughout the province and beyond our borders. Daniel Delisle PhD with the precious collaboration of Claudine Imbeau, granddaughter of Armand Imbeau Armand Imbeau Entrepreneur et Constructeur de goélettes Des personnages, certains lieux, des événements sont incontournables à Tadoussac. La baie, une des « belles baies du monde », les dunes et bien entendu, la «Toupie » du haut-fond prince au lointain, la petite chapelle, tous sont des emblèmes distinctifs de l’endroit. Le feu du Ss Québec au quai de Tadoussac en 1950 restera également un évènement qui restera en mémoire. Parmi les gens, on reconnaît assurément les noms de certains témoins du passé. C’est le cas du célèbre capitaine Jos Deschênes et de l’entrepreneur Armand Imbeau, Tadoussaciens dont on a attribué les noms aux traversiers de première et deuxième générations qui font la navette incessante entre Baie-Ste-Catherine et Tadoussac. Bien avant les traversiers, la Côte-Nord a connu l’âge de la navigation dite de nécessité locale: transport de produits essentiels depuis les grands centres vers les villes et villages, et expéditions de ressources naturelles, notamment le bois des moulins à scie de la région vers les centres de distribution. Pour répondre à ces besoins, les constructeurs navals québécois ont développé une expertise dans la construction de bâtiments de bois, à voiles et plus tard à moteur, particulièrement les goélettes à fonds plats permettant un échouage sur la grève pour faciliter le chargement dans les endroits dépourvus de quai. Parmi ces renommés constructeurs de goélettes de la région de Charlevoix et de la Côte-Nord, Armand Imbeau, fils de charpentier naval de Baie-Ste-Catherine. Navigateur, charpentier, entrepreneur, citoyen impliqué dans sa communauté, Armand Imbeau a marqué sa profession, sa ville, sa région et son époque. Imbeau de Charlevoix Le patronyme Imbeau (Imbeault, Imbault ou Imbeaux) était très répandu dans la région de Charlevoix entre le 17e et le 19e siècle. Nous retrouvons les traces de l’ancêtre des Imbeault, François Imbeault (1737-1823) dit Lagrange, militaire français et de sa conjointe Catherine Ringuet, à La Malbaie–Pointe-au-Pic. Graduellement, on note la présence des nombreuses familles de la descendance plus au nord de la région, à Saint-Siméon jusqu’à St-Firmain (Baie-Sainte-Catherine). En fin de 19e et début du 20e, des Imbeau se déplacent sur la Haute-Côte-Nord. (1, 2) Né à Baie-Sainte-Catherine le 30 août 1896, Armand Imbeau est le fils de Thomas Imbeau, de Baie-Sainte-Catherine, charpentier de profession et de Marie Laprise de Grandes-Bergeronnes. À cette époque, plusieurs familles Imbeau étaient installées à Baie-Sainte-Catherine. Thomas, le père d’Armand aura un autre fils, Lucien et six filles qui se sont tous mariés à St-Firmain. Il a également un cousin célèbre Thomas-Louis, (Mrg Imbeault, évêque de Charlevoix) le fils de Louis Imbeault également de Baie-Ste-Catherine. Armand fait ses classes en charpenterie et apprend la construction navale auprès de son père. Érudit et autodidacte, Armand Imbeau maitrise la langue de Molière aussi bien que celle de Shakespeare. Selon sa petite fille, il possède un vaste vocabulaire et s’exprime d’une excellente façon. À l’âge de 25 ans, le 22 avril 1919, il épouse à Tadoussac, Marie-Louise Caron, enseignante à l’école du village (1900 -?), âgée de 19 ans, fille de monsieur John (Benny) Caron et madame Éveline Pedneault de Tadoussac. De cette union naissent quatre enfants; Georgette (Marie-Louise-Emma-Georgette), le 11 mars 1920, décédée le 25 mai 1973. Elle épousera Émile Baril (1904-1989) de Saint-Charles de Mandeville le 30 juin 1956. Le couple n’aura pas d’enfant. Monsieur Baril sera enseignant et directeur de l’école primaire de Tadoussac; Jacques, né en 1924 à Tadoussac et décédé à La Malbaie en 2011. Il épouse le 1er octobre 1949 Jaqueline Gauthier (1930-2013), fille de Hector Gauthier, propriétaire de l’Hôtel Gauthier qui deviendra le Manoir Tadoussac, et de Émilie Brisson. Employé du ministère des terres et forêts, Jacques Imbeau est appelé à travailler à Hauterive et à Havre-St-Pierre. Un enfant naitra de cette union, Claudine, dernière de la lignée de Armand Imbeau; Simonne, décédée très jeune (1927-1939); Rachelle (1933-1937) décédée à l’âge de 4 ans; Jacqueline (19??), qui épouse Rosaire Bouchard (1924-1987) le 15 mai 1954 à Tadoussac. Le couple s’installe à Chicoutimi, parents de deux garçons Pierre et Jean, décédés en bas âge. La cale sèche Imbeau À l’extrémité ouest de la plage, donnant sur la baie avant d’atteindre L’Islet, se trouve à droite, au pied sud-est de la colline de l’Anse à l’eau, une petite crique, un bassin naturel qui prolonge l’Anse à L’Islet, dont une bande de rochers délimite l’entrée: l’«Anse à cale sèche». Se remplissant à marée haute, l’endroit donne accès au fjord profond et facilite l’entrée et la mise à l’eau des navires. Du côté de la plage, l’anse est séparée de la baie par un isthme reliant la presqu’ile à la terre ferme. Certains résidents de Tadoussac s’installent à même la plage de la baie pour construire des embarcations. En 1923, monsieur Imbeau loue l’emplacement à ses propriétaires : la Canada steamship lines. En 1930, il fonde la « Cale sèche Imbeau » à Tadoussac, une compagnie spécialisée dans la construction et la réparation de navires à coque de bois, particulièrement ceux destinés au transport du bois et à la plaisance. La cale sèche sera opérationnelle en novembre 1931. Elle sera creusée à la main l’année suivante pour améliorer sa fonctionnalité. Grâce à une subvention gouvernementale obtenue grâce à l’appui de la municipalité et du curé du Village, les citoyens sont embauchés pour deux semaines au chantier de la cale sèche. Afin de stimuler l’économie locale, au bout de deux semaines un autre groupe de travailleurs prenait la relève afin de permettre à un maximum de personne d’éteint un travail rémunéré en ces temps difficiles. Un bâtiment nécessaire à l’entreposage des matériaux et des outils sont érigés sur les rochers, là où actuellement se trouvent les installations du « Centre d’interprétation des mammifères marins ». On retrouvait dans ce garage, les divers outils du charpentier, tel que des herminettes, plusieurs fers à calfat et maillets à calfat, des tarières, chignoles à main, vilebrequins, planes, gouges, plusieurs ciseaux à bois, scies, égoïnes à chantourner, rabots de toutes grosseurs, etc. De massives portes de bois sont installées à l’entrée de l’anse afin d’y contrôler l’entrée d’eau. Les activités de constructions et de réparations s’y dérouleront jusqu’en 1965 environ, quelques années avant le décès de monsieur Imbeau. L’âge d’or des activités du chantier se situant entre 1930 et 1950. Selon les statistiques gouvernementales d’enregistrement des nouveaux navires, au cours de cette période au moins 300 caboteurs de bois à moteur furent construits au total au Québec, dont près de 40% dans la région de Charlevoix. À Tadoussac, c’est une douzaine de bâtiments qui sortiront de la cale sèche Imbeau, dont le Saint-Jude en 1935, le Victoire en 1936, le Tadoussac Transport en 1938, le Royal Trader en 1939 et le Vaillant en 1943, son bateau personnel, le St-Étienne Murray Bay en 1939, le Raguenau en 1941. Étant donné l’espace restreint de la cale sèche, les bateaux construits devaient être de petites et de moyen tonnage. (3, 4) L’essor industriel d’après guerre et la construction de routes reliant les villes et villages des régions de Charlevoix et de la Côte-Nord contribuent à la diminution des besoins en transport naval et marquent la fin de l’ère des goélettes de même que des petits chantiers maritimes. Armand Imbeau continu tout de même la réparation et l’hivernent des bateaux dans la cale sèche jusqu’en 1965 environ. Homme aux multiples talents, il réalise la construction que quelques maisons. Pour combler le temps libre qui lui reste, il bricole, répare tout ce qu’on lui confie. Il va même jusqu’à faire office de cordonnier, domaine dans lequel il excellait. Lors de la création d’un parc national, le « Parc marin du Saguenay–Saint-Laurent » en 1998, le site alors inactif, est acquis par le gouvernement provincial et intégré au parc. Aujourd’hui, sous l’administration municipale, la cale sèche Imbeau accueille les bateaux de plaisance pendant la saison hivernale. En été, le lieu sert de stationnement automobile pour les touristes. Armand Imbeau: Le citoyen impliqué L’implication sociale de monsieur Armand Imbeau est également notable. Conseiller municipal de 1928 à 1939, il a consacré sa vie à favoriser la prospérité économique de sa région et employait jusqu’à 75 personnes au tournant des années 40. (5) Armand Imbeau s’est également engagé plusieurs années dans les organismes de l’église Sainte-Croix comme marguillier ou encore à la Ligue du Sacré-Cœur. Un événement inusité : Le trésor archéologique Un événement inusité arrive à Armand Imbeau en 1923. L’année suivant son mariage, il achète la résidence de Arthur Hovington située près de L’Islet, sur un plateau surplombant l’Anse à cale sèche, orientée face à la rivière Saguenay, le jeune père de famille s’affaire à creuser la cave en terre battue. A quelques coups de pelles de la surface, il fait la découverte d’une pochette de toile contenant des pièces de monnaie anciennes. Le magot était constitué de 102 pièces. Deux d’entre elles étaient des pièces de métal blanc d’une grande équivalente à une pièce d’un dollar canadien actuel. Elles sont en bon état, sans usure excessive et portent l’effigie de Louis XIV, et date respectivement de 1655 et 1659. Deux autres du même métal sont plus petites et plus usées, datant de 1591. Le reste de la collection comprend des pièces de métal jaune, un peu plus grandes qu’une pièce de 10 cents et sont relativement usées par le temps. Elles sont de la même époque que les deux premières. (6) L’histoire ne dit pas si le « trésor » avait une grande valeur marchande qui aurait enrichi son propriétaire, mais selon les archéologues numismates consultés, la valeur historique est réellement importante. Où sont rendues ces pièces de monnaie? Après un certain temps, Armand Imbeau les donne à son garçon Jacques qui en prend un soin jaloux pendant de nombreuses années. Alors que ce dernier résidait à Hauterive, les pièces disparaissent lors d’un vol au domicile familial. Au terme d’une vie bien remplie, Armand Imbeau s’éteint à Tadoussac en 1969 à l’âge vénérable de 76 ans. Une stèle familiale est érigée au cimetière ancestral de Tadoussac. Il laisse en héritage marquant à son village une foule de réalisations économiques et de contributions sociales. Son nom, qui baptise maintenant deux navires de la Société des traversiers du Québec est connu dans toute la province et au-delà de nos frontières. Daniel Delisle PhD avec la précieuse collaboration de Claudine Imbeau, petite fille de Armand Imbeau Inconnu, Illégitimes en Charlevoix (2), les Imbeault, https://www.touslestemps.net/2-imbeault-1-2/ Inconnu, Illégitimes en Charlevoix (3), les Imbeault, https://www.touslestemps.net/imbeault-2-2/ Frank, A., Les chantiers maritimes traditionnels: il était de petits navires, Continuité, 2001, (89), 37-39 Desjardins, Robert, Les voitures d’eau, le cabotage artisanal sur le St-Laurent, 2013, http://goelettesduquebec.ca Société des traversiers du Québec, https://www.traversiers.com/fr/a-propos-de-la-societe/nos-navires/nm-armand-imbeau/ Bulletin des recherches historiques : bulletin d'archéologie, d'histoire, de biographie, de numismatique, etc., décembre 1923 another story...from writings of Ann Dewart Late in the1920s, Dad (Dr Stevenson) bought one of the old Price Brothers Company's abandoned houses in Baie Ste. Catherine for $25 and had it knocked down and ferried across the river. For several years the wood lay on the ground near Pépin's Road (Rue de la Pointe Rouge) until finally Armand Imbeault, the carpenter, persuaded Dad to build with it before it rotted away. Again, Dad did the design, patterned after our original house (the Stevenson/Reilley house). This house would later become Elizabeth’s and my house (the O'Neill house). (The Dewarts eventually sold out of that house and bought Tivoli, and...) Later, we had Armand Imbeault, the founder of the cale sêche, close in the sundeck to make a sleeping porch. une autre histoire... d'après les écrits d'Ann Dewart À la fin des années 1920, papa (Dr Stevenson) a acheté une des maisons abandonnées de l'ancienne Price Brothers Company à Baie Ste. Catherine pour 25 $ et l'a fait renverser et transporté de l'autre côté de la rivière. Pendant plusieurs années, le bois est resté sur le sol près du chemin Pépin (rue de la Pointe Rouge) jusqu'à ce que finalement Armand Imbeault, le menuisier, ait persuadé papa de construire avec avant qu'il ne pourrisse. Encore une fois, papa a fait le design, sur le modèle de notre maison d'origine (la maison Stevenson/Reilley). Cette maison deviendra plus tard celle d'Elizabeth et moi (la maison O'Neill). (Les Dewarts ont finalement vendu cette maison et acheté Tivoli, et...) Plus tard, nous avons demandé à Armand Imbeault, le fondateur de la cale sêche, de fermer le solarium pour en faire une véranda pour dormir. 85

Short Stories by R Lewis Evans R. Lewis Evans was an English Teacher who loved to write. Although his books are quite well-known, his short stories and articles belong mostly to the more distant past. It was during the 1940s and 1950s that magazine short stories were popular and sought after and Dad wrote over 20 of them. Most were published, and many are of interest especially to those of us who know and love the Lower St. Lawrence and Saguenay areas of Quebec, so I decided to get them out of the file and onto the web-site where they can be read once again. I've divided the stories into categories. While he wrote mostly river stories about the Tadoussac area, including some historical fiction, he also wrote 6 stories about World War II (4 of which overlap with our beloved river), and a number of odd inspirations, one biblical, several inspired by newspaper items, and even one (gasp!) Science Fiction. There are also some non-fiction articles which will be coming along later in the year. I love them all partly because he wrote about what he loved and I love it too, but partly because his characters are thoughtful, compassionate and real. I've included a few notes that he kept in the file. Some are news articles he drew his ideas from; others are comments he received from editors either printed in the magazine or sent along to him separately. I've also tried to reproduce the illustrations, duly credited, as all the stories that published were supported by visual art. Only one, Casual Enemy, has no illustrator mentioned. My guess is he drew that one himself. I've read all these stories several times in my efforts to get them up onto the web-site correctly and I've never tired of them. I hope you enjoy them. A fair warning: some readers might recognize a few people! Alan Evans NEXT PAGE R Lewis Evans War Stories Casual Enemy (As Published in “Boating Magazine”, Vol. 18, no. 3, April, 1942) by Lewis Evans PIERRE TREMBLAY put down his pipe and listened. The hollow chug of a diesel engine had suddenly broken the silence of the bay as some craft rounded the steep headland at its outer end. “No running lights,” the old French-Canadian murmured to himself, and then he smiled at his own comment, for his own little work boat, anchored close under the rugged hillside near the head of the bay, carried no riding light. The bays off the Saguenay River are deep—thirty to a hundred fathoms; small craft have to anchor close to shore in order to find bottom, and lights of any kind attract mosquitoes from the woods. The jarring clang of a bell slowed the engines of the incoming craft, and Pierre sat back and drew on his pipe again. She was the “Phantome”. He knew that engine bell—it had been cracked for years. The “Phantome” was a diesel-engined coaster with a shady history. Five years ago, meeting her under the same conditions, Pierre would have known that she was bootlegging cheap French liquor from St. Pierre and Miquelon in the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the dry counties up river. Not much money in that game now, though, and the “Phantome” had been out of it since her crew had had to jettison a cargo worth well over a thousand dollars, and the pursuing government patrol boat had just enough evidence to get Xavier Bouchard, the “Phantome’s” captain and Pierre’s sister’s son, two years in the Quebec jail. Well, he hoped that Xavier was up to nothing that might get him into trouble again. That jail sentence had nearly broken his mother’s heart, for she was a gentle and pious woman. Perhaps he was netting salmon—that would get him a fat fine if he were caught, but the government boats were too busy trying to keep the St. Lawrence free from German submarines these days to worry about coasting vessels breaking the Fish and Game Laws. Only a week ago a freighter had been torpedoed out in the Gulf, not so very many miles from the Saguenay. Two patrol boats had already claimed the destruction of the submarine. Why couldn’t Xavier get some honest work, and save Marie, his mother, the anxiety which was making her old before her time? Honest work was to be had easily enough these days, though Pierre himself was not too sure what kind of a job he could pick up now that this work on the fish-hatchery dam was over. His had been the supply boat for that—a government project to build a salmon hatchery on the stream that emptied into the bay. Today the dam had been finished, the gang had been taken out by launch, and Pierre’s boat was loaded with shovels and picks, unused food stores, cement and dynamite. Ah well—he’d get something to do. There was work going on aboard the “Phantome” — sounded like heavy oil drums being rolled along the deck. Surely they would not be shifting their cargo at this time of night. Still no lights, and only occasionally came a subdued order. Pierre could see nothing — bateme, but the night was a black one. Then came the louder rumble of oil drums — empty ones. Pierre suddenly stood up and peered into the darkness. Surely Xavier could not be such a fool . . . but still, the St. Lawrence was a long way from Germany, and diesel engines needed fuel oil, and Xavier had always liked easy money . . . Quietly Pierre hauled in the painter of the ten-foot flat-bottomed boat that served him as tender. As he eased himself aboard he remembered to leave his pipe behind — the dynamite was stowed in the tender for safety’s sake. Two stealthy strokes with a paddle moved him away from his boat. The tide had begun to rise and a slight current set round the bay, drifting him towards the “Phantome”. At last he could make out the shape of the coaster, her stump mast, and the wheelhouse at her stern dimly silhouetted against the mouth of the bay. Pierre peered at her waterline . . . was there? . . . yes — a long, low, shelving shape protruded astern of the coaster. The submarine lay on the far side of the “Phantome”. Pierre worked his boat back against the tide, which was running more strongly now, and almost bumped his work boat before he saw it. He got aboard and sat down, holding the tender’s painter. Poor Marie — what would she do if Xavier got into trouble for this piece of work? And this might be only the first of many refueling episodes. Straightening up with decision, Pierre hauled his tender to that side of his boat farther from the “Phantome”. Leaning over, he worked fast. Once he paused to peer at the position of the coaster, once to dip his hand into the current slipping past the side of his boat, testing its strength. He rummaged in the cockpit and came up with a large reel of cod line, one end of which he secured to the tender. Leaning over the smaller boat and opening his coat wide as a shield, he struck a match. An end of fuse lay in the bottom; he lighted it and doused the match quickly. Manoeuvring the tender round the stern of his boat, he felt to make sure that the cod-line was not snarled, and then gave the tender a long, gentle push towards the “Phantome”. Sitting down, he carefully paid out the line as the little craft, in the grip of the tide, asked for it. The rumble of oil drums on the “Phantome” had ceased, and now came a clanking. She was weighing anchor. Pierre gave his tender more slack and felt her take it up. Slowly the coaster’s anchor chain clanked inboard, and her engine was started up. So much of the cod-line was now in the water that Pierre could not feel a definite pull from the tender, but he went on giving slack. The cracked engine bell jangled aboard the “Phantome”, and her propeller kicked ahead slowly. The clanking of the chain had ceased. Pierre found that the end of the cod-line was in his hand. Knowing the length of the line, and praying that his judgement of distance was right, he pulled in a fathom or two, and crouched in the cockpit. Suddenly there was a hoarse shout in the darkness — the tender had been seen. Pierre tensed, gripping the cockpit coaming. Then a flash lit the bay — lit up for a second the silver streak of the submarine stretching forward from the flash, three figures on the deck frozen in their movement, and the “Phantome” clear of the submarine and heading out of the bay. Pitch darkness blinded Pierre; a scrap of wood clattered into the cockpit beside him — of the tender’s gunwale, by the feel of it; his ears, deafened by the blast, heard dimly confused shouts and the hurried thump of the “Phantome’s” motor as she fled out of the bay. The old man, trembling a little, hauled up his anchor and started his motor. Expecting a fusillade of rifle shots at the very least, he zig-zagged along close to shore, heading for the open. No shots followed him, and he rounded the headland and dropped his hook in the next bay down the river. On such a night that explosion should have been heard in Tadoussac, two miles away at the mouth of the Saguenay. If so surely the patrol boat based there would investigate. Not long afterwards he heard the drone of the patrol boat. It swept up the Saguenay towards him, its searchlight probing. Pierre hastily lighted his running lights and got under way back towards the bay. The patrol boat caught up to him just off the headland. Pierre pointed towards the bay and was left rocking in the wake of the grey launch. By the time he had rounded the head the patrol boat was almost alongside the submarine, her searchlight and gun trained on it. There was no resistance, however, for the submarine was submerged and aground at the stern, her bow protruding from the surface at a sharp angle, her crew clinging to the deck. Apparently the blast had occurred near the stern, which had gone down, while the forward part of the hull remained buoyant. Pierre drifted up to the patrol boat. “What do you know about this?” demanded the Naval Reserve Lieutenant in command. Pierre explained, partly in French and partly in broken English, with expressive gestures, but not mentioning the “Phantome”, which by now should be far up the Saguenay, frightened to death but above suspicion. The Lieutenant expressed his amazement profanely, and added: “Meet us in Tadoussac. The government will be very grateful . . .” Marie would be grateful too, if she knew, thought Pierre. “And we'll get you a new tender and some more dynamite,” went on the officer. “Oh, the dynamite — it belonged to the government anyway,” said Pierre. The End He heard a yell and the sound of quick movement from the pit as he swooped towards it and tossed the grenade Monte Cassino Downhill (Published in The Montreal Standard, Spring of 1944) Lieutenant Johnny Martin takes a long chance on a tricky slope by Lewis Evans ILLUSTRATED BY GEOFFREY TRAUNTER TO USE his own expression, Lieutenant Johnny Martin was skunked. He crouched and shivered in the hole he had scooped in the snowdrift under a stunted bush and mentally compared it with what the Americans called foxholes in the Pacific battle zones. The only fox that might condescend to call this "home,” thought Johnny, would be an Arctic fox. The miserable shelter in which he crouched was on the southwest shoulder of Monte Cassino, and below him was the valley in which lay one of the main roads to Rome, the valley up which units of the Fifth Army were advancing towards the town of Cassino. Johnny could see the road down there, about a thousand feet below him, and the gaps in it where the retreating Germans had blown up the culverts. He could see the railway line, too, with the twisted girders of a steel bridge sagging into a small river; the Fortresses had fixed that, in a precision daylight attack weeks ago. The slopes on which he lay, and all the other mountains in that jumble of southern spurs of the Appenines, were deep in snow on their summits but on the lower contours the snow became patchy, and down in the valleys mud reigned supreme. The regiment would be wallowing in it as usual, Johnny thought. The Italian weather had been horribly wet for weeks, and turning cold in December had resulted in the unusual amount of snow on the mountains. Well, he thought, at least his snowdrift, if cold, was cleaner than the mud down in the valley. Opposite him to his left were the slopes of a smaller valley running into the main one, and that was where his regiment was. His problem was to rejoin them. The considerable obstacle directly in his way was a small sector of the German defenses, consisting of a machine-gun nest in the lee of a knoll about halfway down the shoulder of the floor of this minor valley. In front of the nest and below the knoll stretched a mare’s nest of barbed wire, protecting the gunners from a frontal charge. Their field of fire covered the lower slopes of the mountain, where the snow gave way to grass and mud. Monte Cassino had been causing the Allies plenty of worry as they hammered their way through ancient Campania. It was crowned by the huge monastery which had been founded by St. Benedict in the year 529, but that historical fact held little interest for the men whose job it was to rid the mountain of Germans. They hoped that the monks had had the sense to clear out before their mountain became a military objective, and wanted desperately to know if the Germans had established any form of artillery in or near the monastery or the ruined castle just below the two valleys and could break up any advance in force towards Cassino. Air reconnaissance had failed to reveal any gun sites, but the two buildings afforded such opportunities for concealment that the risk of advancing without further information was too great—hence Lieutenant Martin’s uncomfortable presence on the mountain and on the wrong side of the remnants of the German rearguard. JOHNNY had been amongst the Canadians who had qualified as paratroopers at an American training camp early in the war, and last night he had been dropped onto the slopes of Monte Cassino from an ugly Lysander Army Reconnaissance aircraft. In the gray December dawn he had scrambled up and onto the monastery courtyard to find the snow lying clean and untracked, and the great stone well standing in the middle as it had stood through the centuries of war and peace. Then he had slithered down to the ruined castle and satisfied himself that the Germans had established no artillery in either place. Possibly, Johnny thought, they considered the buildings to obvious, too likely to be bombed flat by Allied planes. Into the first rays of the morning sun as it rose behind the Allied armies Lieutenant Martin had flashed the pre-arranged signal which told the watchers that the buildings hid nothing of military importance, and then he had started for home. Worming his way down the shoulder he had seen the machine-gun post. He had expected something of the sort somewhere, and after reconnoitering enough to find that there were other similar nests on other parts of the lower slopes which the advancing troops would probably have to silence by mortar fire, he decided that his only chance was to wait until dark or until the Allied advance had cleared the enemy from their positions. So he lay and shivered, and considered the terrain below him. As the hours crawled by the sun warmed him a little, and the surface of the snow melted. Like spring snow in the Laurentians, thought Johnny, and his memory conjured up visions of Hill 70 at St. Sauveur, and beer and singing in the pub at night, and ski races against Dartmouth, and the Quebec Kandahar on Mont Tremblant, in the days when he was a Red Bird and used to ski for McGill. He thought of standing on the brow of Hill 70 in the cold brightness of a Sunday morning and watching the Montreal train, looking ridiculously small from where he stood, pulling into the station, and the unbelievable number of skiers who poured out of it and fanned out towards their favorite hills. From the stationary locomotive a great white plume of steam would go up like a huge mushroom, and yet he would be looking down on its top, just as he was looking down on this valley and the occasional mushroom of smoke from a bursting shell as some German gunners far up the main road searched for the Allied advance units. SUDDENLY Johnny’s gaze centred on a movement halfway down the slope and well to the right of the machine-gun post. Working round the shoulder of the hill was a man in the white parka of a ski-trooper, and to Johnny’s incredulous eyes he appeared to be on skis. He had apparently come from the steep zigzag road which connected the monastery with the valley below, and where another of the enemy outposts was. From his actions as he traversed the hillside he appeared to be carrying a load, and Johnny figured it must be ammunition or food for the post directly below. His surprise diminished as he realized that the man would hardly dare approach the post in daylight without that white protection, for a field uniform would be seen against the snowy slope from the other side of the valley. Perhaps the Germans had some mountain-trained and equipped regiments here. Their organization was supposed to be efficient and controlled by such inflexible rules that they might easily have sent skis with troops who were to fight in mountainous country even if the mountains were in Southern Italy. The skier moved on and eventually came to the post, stooped to undo his harness, and then dropped out of sight over the lip of the emplacement. Johnny’s thoughts ran on the subject of skis and skiing. Looking down over the machine-gun nest by the knoll and its protecting wire, he idly wondered whether a good skier taking off from the knoll could clear that wire below it. It might be possible, he figured, as the lower face of the knoll was cutaway steeply and the wire ran close under the face. The landing would be too flat for comfort, he thought, but one could hardly expect a natural jump to have everything. If he had some skis he could wait for night and the moon, which was strong, and then run straight for the knoll, lob a grenade into the nest as he passed, and hope that his speed would take him clear of the wire before he landed. If the grenade did its job and if no other machine- gun covered that field of fire — and he had seen no other post close enough to do so — he might ski on down to the snow-line and find cover and perhaps his own advancing units beyond that. Oh, well — what was the use of wishing? — but it seemed silly that after volunteering for a special ski course and being bored to death learning to “bear-walk” and do the “crawl” all over the snowy flats of Petawawa he should need a pair of skis in Southern Italy, of all places. The sun was sloping westwards toward the Mediterranean, and the air was getting colder. Johnny Martin thought of the long night on the mountain – he did not dare seek shelter in the monastery or the old castle as some of the Germans might have the same idea. Another twelve hours before he could reasonably expect his friends to attack – Johnny shuddered. “If I stay here all night,” he said to himself with a smile that was a bit grim, “I shall probably wake up in the morning with a very bad cold in the head – if I wake up. And if the attack doesn't drive those Germans away, or if we don't attack at dawn, I may have to stay on and on.” Anything was better than that, he thought. If that fellow in the parka would start back, and if he could get his skis. . . Johnny got out his large scale map. There was Monte Cassino, there was the winding road from the monastery to the valley, and there was the contour line followed by the skier from the road to the macine-gun emplacement. Johnny's finger followed along the contour line and stopped where it swung deeply in towards the mountain and out again. That must be a stream or stream-bed seaming the slope, he knew. If he could meet the skier in that gully they would be invisible from anywhere but directly above or below; they would be, as it were, in a fold in the ground. JOHNNY MARTIN got going. He wriggled out of his foxhole, and keeping the height of the drift between him and the post below he crawled up the shoulder towards the ruined castle, and then bore to the left towards the upper end of the gully. He reached it and slithered into it. It was just what he had expected – a rocky stream-bed with a trickle of water from the day's melting, a trickle that would be a torrent if the weather warmed up a little. Johnny scrambled down it till he came to the tracks made by the skier crossing the gully on the way to the post, and then he crouched by a rock a little uphill from the tracks and where he could see them disappear around the shoulder of the slope. The sun had gone, and visibility was being cut down to a few yards, until at around nine o'clock the rising moon should increase it considerably. Finally Johnny heard the indescribable sound of skis over snow, and a figure loomed against the sky-line. The Canadian gripped the icy butt of his automatic and tensed himself for a spring. The skier slid into the gully, lost his balance as his ski tips hit the opposite slope, and crashed with a grunt. He grunted once more – a grunt of surprise – as Johnny jumped on him and slugged at his head with the heavy gun. Johnny struggled to strip off the man's parka and heard it rip as at last it came away. Then he freed the skis and picked them up, together with the single ski-pole the German had been using, and started climbing up the gully with his spoil. Back in his shelter in the drift Johnny waited while the moon cleared the silvery summits of the distant hills. His plan was a chancy one, he knew, but he could not face any more hours in the damp cold and inactivity. WAITING for the moonrise he adjusted the leather harness to fit his boots, and his thoughts went back to cable bindings and long arguments before log-fires on the merits of super-diagonal and other down-hill devices. “'The time has come,' the Walrus said . . .” murmured Johnny and stretched himself flat on his skis. Using his hands and feet as a seal uses its flippers he slowly and cautiously tobogganed down the slope as far as he dared. There was a bush a hundred yards or so above the emplacement, and there he stopped. Beyond was the clear, steep ground, ground bathed in moonlight where he would be spotted if he tried to sneak across, then the knoll with the shadow of the weapon pit to one side of it, and dimly seen below the knoll was the tangle of wire. Crouching, Johnny got his feet into the harness and produced his two grenades from under his parka. One he left on the ground by the bush – he would only have time to use one, and he didn't like the idea of taking a mighty tumble with enough explosive on his person to blow him to bits, safe though grenades were supposed to be until the pin was out. Slowly he straightened up and launched himself forward. His skis gathered way, and for a moment his mind flipped back to a mad moonlight race on Mount Baldy one March long ago – then he was checking with a forced stem in the yielding snow and pulling the pin from the grenade. His skis came parallel again and he heard a yell and the sound of a quick movement from the pit as he swooped towards it and tossed the grenade in. Then he was on the knoll with his knees bent deep, snapping straight as he crossed the lip of the mound, and he had a blurred impression of white ground surging up at him and a roar from behind him. His skis hit the snow and he wavered, steadied, hit a bump and crashed with a cracking sound that he hoped was breaking skis, not rifle fire. He struggled up to find one ski intact and the other broken off short behind his foot. On he plunged towards the darkness of the valley, trying to keep most of his weight on the unbroken ski. A clump of bushes loomed up and he swung round it in a forward leaning turn that would have been appreciated on the Taschereau run, only to see a great patch of snowless ground beyond it. He tried to stop but his skis bit the earth, and he somersaulted madly. In the first roll his head hit a chunk of half-frozen turf and he was unconscious as he hurtled into a depression in the ground where a very large Canadian sergeant and two men with evil designs upon the German machine-gun nest were setting up a mortar. EVER since dark the sergeant had been heaving his bulk forward from cover to cover to get within range of that emplacement. To have his prospective target blow up for no good reason at all was one thing, he thought, but to have a one hundred and eighty pound unconscious lieutenant impinge on his stomach at that time of night was something else again. Johnny Martin came to dizzily to hear the sergeant emphatically muttering what seemed to be a prayer – except that the words were in quite the wrong order. The End NOTE: It was the following article in the February 7th, 1944 edition of the Globe and Mail newspaper which gave Dad the idea for this story. The (fuzzy and difficult to read despite my best efforts) original is included below. Germans Shell Abbey Housing Own Troops Montecassino Monastery (arrow) high above the town of Cassino, was founded by St. Benedict in 529, on the site of ancient Temple of Apollo. By C. L. SULZBERGER - New York Times Special to The Globe and Mail. Copyright With the 5th Army in Italy, Feb. 5 (Delayed).—German artillery, for some peculiar and perverse reason, today shelled the famous old monastery atop Monte Cassino where the Benedictine Order was born, although there is every reason to believe some of their own troops were within the vast abbey which the enemy is believed using as an observation post. Shortly after 3 p.m. this correspondent happened to be looking at the historic landmark above the lacerated town of the same name, where American troops are slowly battling their way forward in vicious street fighting, when geysers of smoke billowed from the abbey, standing out clearly in the crisp, bright atmosphere. As the smoke drifted southward in huge clouds, careful scrutinizing through binoculars revealed no visible damage. In order to ascertain the reasons for this extraordinary event, since Lt.-Gen. Mark W. Clark has issued strictest orders to his army not to fire on the abbey or any other papal property or a series of specified clerical buildings unless it is a question of the most vital military necessity, the writer made a careful inquiry among American artillery officers. Major A. J. Peterson, Minneapolis, Minn., who observed the same bursts and then inquired of various artillery observation outposts in the immediate vicinity of the monastery, said: “We could identify the shell bursts. There was one direct hit on top of the abbey. Our observers were able to plot the direction of the shells. They came from the north, in the Atinia region, and from the northwest which areas are in enemy hands.” Meanwhile, further evidence of Nazi violation of those few courtesies remaining in modern warfare was received when a French prisoner who escaped last night informed Allied authorities the Germans were forcing British, American and French captives to carry ammunition and dig positions in the Cassino vicinity. These prisoners are forced to labor under the shellfire of Allied guns, and there have been casualties among them. The Frenchman escaped during the night in the confusion following an especially heavy Allied barrage on Cassino positions still held by the Germans. He said that to the best of his knowledge, 12 Englishmen, six Americans, and two Frenchmen still remained with the enemy as prisoners in his group, doing forced labor under fire. Of Assistance to the Enemy (Published in the Montreal Standard, Date unknown) By Lewis Evans ILLUSTRATED BY BEN TURNER “AND SO,’’ concluded the announcer who was summarizing the news in French over Radio Rimouski that night, “of the ten German long-range bombers which made an attempt at five o’clock this morning to destroy the great dams at the head of the Saguenay River, seven were brought down by interceptor aircraft from Bagotville and Mont Joli before they reached their objective, one dropped its bomb load harmlessly into the waters of Lake St. John and was brought down by anti-aircraft fire, and the remaining two fled south from the fighters towards the St. Lawrence, jettisoning their bombs over uninhabited parts of the Laurentians. The crews of these two bombers are believed to have bailed out over the north shore of the St. Lawrence, as their aircraft were observed to crash in the river some miles off-shore. These men are being sought by military units and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. So ended the first enemy attempt to do to a Canadian industrial centre what the British succeeded in doing to the Mohne and Eder dams in Germany some time ago.” Old Captain Tremblay switched off the radio in the cabin of the coasting schooner St. Casimir, tied up at the wharf in Ste. Catherine’s Bay at the mouth of the Saguenay, and listened for a few moments to the comments of his companions as they continued their late meal. Outside, rain had come up on the rising east wind, and the three French-Canadians who formed his crew did not hurry over their food. They were in no haste to return to the rain-swept wharf and get on with the job of loading the St. Casimir with pulp logs. The Captain reached for his battered green-covered copy of “The St. Lawrence River Pilot” and turned to the chapter that dealt with the mouth of the Saguenay and the waters of the St. Lawrence in that vicinity, for he and his ship usually plied farther upstream, and his present route was not a familiar one. With his finger on the place he looked up. "Get going,” he ordered. “About twelve more cords to load. Tide’s full now. so the sooner we can sail the better — the ebb will be in our favor, and I don’t want to waste it.” “The three men, two deckhands and an engineer, put on their sodden caps and went out. Climbing the steep face of the dock they mounted the pile of four-foot pulp logs and bent to their work. With one hand they drove their short hooks into the logs and jerked them upwards, and then hook and free hand heaved them forward and downward into the semi-darkness to land with hollow thunder on the St. Casimir’s wooden deck, illumined by the half-hearted floodlight permitted by the dim-out regulations. When half an hour before midnight Captain Tremblay came out on the bridge to see how the work was going, the twelve cords on the wharf had become six and his men were on the schooner's deck converting the jumbled pile into a well-stowed deck load. The east wind had increased and even in Ste. Catherine’s Bay, sheltered by reefs from the open St. Lawrence, small waves were bunting the schooner against the wharf and her rubbing strake groaned from time to time on the massive piles. The Captain moved aft to slacken a taut mooring line, for the tide had dropped a foot or so. When he turned back there were four men on the deck amidships instead of three. As the newcomer’s shadow came between them and the light the workers straightened up from their task and stared. “Good evening,” said the stranger. “May I speak with your Captain?” He spoke in French, but each of the men listening knew at once that he was no French-Canadian. He was speaking careful school-book French, as most English-Canadians and Americans do. The engineer indicated Tremblay with a gesture and the stranger turned towards him. “Captain, you have a small boat—” he jerked his thumb aft, where the schooner’s lifeboat hung on davits across her stern— “and I want you or one of your men to take me out beyond the reefs to the St. Lawrence. I will pay you what you ask for your trouble.” “Impossible, monsieur,” exclaimed Tremblay. He motioned towards the pulp logs. “We have work to do and besides, the weather ...” He gestured vaguely towards the rainy darkness off-shore, and through his mind went the words he had heard less than two hours before—“The crews of these two bombers are believed to have bailed out over the north shore of the St. Lawrence. . .” “Nonsense!” said the stranger rather abruptly, and he took a step nearer the Captain. “There is no sea to speak of, and I saw from the wharf that your boat has an engine. I will pay you well. I must insist.” Tremblay was silent, staring at the man before him, a tall, fair fellow, bareheaded, who kept his hands in the pockets of a raincoat so soaked and dirty as to be colorless in that dim light. At length he spoke. “No sir,” he said firmly. “It can’t be done.” It was no surprise to him when his words seemed to lift the stranger’s right hand— and Luger—out of the pocket. “Listen, Captain,” said the German. “I am in a hurry. You or one of your men must take me where I want to go — out beyond the mouth of the Saguenay.” “Submarine!” murmured the Captain, stating a fact rather than asking a question. “Ha!” said the other. “You’ve heard of the bombing. There are U-boats at points off the north shore tonight and we were instructed to get to them if we could. You see my position — I will stand no foolishness. Make up your minds — will one of you take me, or . . .” THE CAPTAIN’S eyes travelled over the German. The man was tired — that was obvious. His clothing bore the marks of a day-long battle with the Laurentian bush. A tired man, but the tired man held the gun, and was impatient. The Captain turned to his men. “Lower the boat,” he ordered. The three men turned slowly and shuffled aft to uncleat the falls, conscious all the time of the gun behind them. Captain Tremblay followed. He was under no illusion — that Nazi might shoot one or all of them, whether they did as he told them or not. The blocks squealed and the eighteen-foot boat slid towards the black water. Tremblay glanced over his shoulder and saw the German peering at the illuminated dial of a military pocket compass—but the Luger in his other hand was still on the job. He turned to the German, who was putting the compass back in his pocket. “I’ll go with you,” said Tremblay decisively - and out of the corner of his eye he noted his men’s heads turn suddenly toward him. “That little compass you have - it's no good in a small boat because of deviation caused by the engine . . . and there are reefs outside, you know, and cross-currents. You must have a man with you who knows these waters.” “And you know them?” asked the German drily. “I was born near here,” stated Tremblay, conscious of the stares of his crew, who knew well that he was a Baie St. Paul man. The German was no fool. He saw the men stare and he saw the craftiness in the Captain's eyes, so naive that he almost laughed aloud at it. He could trust him as far as he could see him — and not even that far in a small boat. “Good,” he said. “Get into the boat, then, and start the engine.” Tremblay’s stomach felt cold. He had tried to make the man suspect a trap, and he did not know whether he had succeeded. He turned and swung over the schooner's rail and dropped into the boat under her counter. The German moved up and straddled the rail so that he could watch both Tremblay and the men on deck. The Captain set about priming the engine. After a preliminary cough or two it spluttered to life. The Nazi swung his other leg over the rail. “You make one move from where you are and I'll shoot your Captain,” he threatened the three men on deck, and then he, too, dropped into the boat. “Cast off those ropes and then get back aboard,” he ordered Tremblay. “Back aboard?” echoed the Captain. “Maybe you know these waters too well. Get back,” snapped the German reaching for the clutch lever, and as the other took a grip on the ropes hanging over the schooner's stern he eased it forward. The propeller bit the water and the boat shot forward and was swallowed up in the windy darkness. As Captain Tremblay climbed over the rail the three men on the St. Casimir's deck looked at one another and then all broke out talking at once. The Captain said nothing but made straight for the cabin, where he slumped onto a chair by the table on which still lay the battered green pilot book, open as he had left it. The others followed him in, jabbering. “Why did you offer to take him?” demanded one of the deck hands angrily. The Captain looked up wearily. “Because I wanted him to go alone. I remembered your Marie, Jacques, back in Baie St. Paul. She seemed too eager for the wedding, so you jilted her.” The deck hand’s puzzled look slowly gave way to one of understanding. Suddenly the engineer broke in. “Shouldn’t we go ashore and find a telephone?” he asked. “Perhaps a patrol boat could be warned to pick him up.” The Captain roused himself. “Telephone? Yes one of you had better report about the submarine.” “But the airman,” insisted the engineer. "Couldn’t they—” “They won’t get him,” stated the Captain. The finality of his tone fixed their questioning glances on him, and in explanation he pushed the open pilot book across the table towards them. “Read that,” he said, pointing to a paragraph. “It’s what I was studying after supper.” The engineer picked up the St. Lawrence River Pilot and read the paragraph aloud. “ 'The Mouth of the Saguenay River . . . The ebb tide from the Saguenay River on meeting the ebb from the St. Lawrence sets up very heavy tide rips, so strong as to interfere with the steerage of a vessel. When these ebbs are opposed to a heavy easterly gale, a particularly dangerous cross-sea is raised, which is considered dangerous to small craft, and in which no boat could live’.” The End The Sitting Duck (Published in The Montreal Standard, Date unknown) By Lewis Evans ILLUSTRATED BY GEOFFREY TRAUNTER THE LANDING BARGE lay as still as if she were floating on the fog rather than upon the waters of the North Sea. Somewhere, invisible, the sun was rising, and slowly the thick fog turned from black to grey. For the first time in hours the R.C.N.V.R. Lieutenant on the bridge could see the lines of his ship before him—that is if a medium sized landing barge can be said to have any lines at all. Lieutenant McNeil doubted it, and never could look at the scow-like bulk of his craft without seeing in his imagination the dashing motor-torpedo-boat he had hoped to command. At her very best speed his landing barge could hardly be called dashing, and for the greater part of an hour she had been anything but — she had been left powerless by a defective unit in her reduction gear. McNeil resisted the urge to go below again to see how repairs were progressing. He might as well stay where he was, and if he was sweating with impatience he knew well that the Petty Officer below was sweating too — sweating blood to get the repairs effected. Somewhere to the south and east was the attacking-force of which his craft was supposed to be a part — by now it should be fifteen miles away and almost grounding on the long, low sandy beaches of the Belgian coast, but there had been no sound of gunfire as yet. When his engines had failed he had had simply to drop out of the armada, the dense fog and strict radio silence preventing from letting even the commanding officer know of his plight. NO ONE but the commander of the force knew whether this attack was part of the real thing, the invasion itself, or merely one of the dress rehearsals or feints promised by the Prime Minister. Whatever it is, thought the Lieutenant as he gazed down into the waist of his ship, it will have to get along without those two tanks. He could just see them now, crouched one behind the other, facing the closed ramp at the bow, and their crews lounging round them and smoking. Suddenly McNeil raised his head and listened. Then he glanced at the Leading Seaman in the other wing of the bridge. He, too, had heard the faint throbbing and was peering into the blankness of the fog ahead. The Lieutenant crossed to him. “What do you make of it?” he asked quietly. “Sounds quite close, sir, but faint. Certainly not an aircraft — might be an M.T.B. or an E-boat throttled right down.” They listened again and the subdued hum continued, punctuated once by a faint clang. The killick swung toward McNeil. “Sub, sir!” he whispered urgently. “Surfaced and charging her batteries — that clang could have been a hatch-cover.” “Go forward,” ordered McNeil, “and tell ’em to keep completely quiet. Send someone below to tell the engine-room, too — and find out how much longer they’ll be.” “Aye, aye, sir.” The Leading Seaman slid down the ladder into the waist of the barge. The Lieutenant went from one to the other of the machine-gun crews at either end of the bridge and warned them. Their weapons were designed to ward off low-flying aircraft, and would be practically useless against the sub’s gun. The sun’s warmth could now be felt, and soon the fog would thin away. “That’ll be the pay-off,” thought McNeil, and resolved that while landing barges usually were known by numbers rather than by names, this one might well go down in history as “The Sitting Duck.” “Don’t know about history,” he added aloud, “but we might well go down.” THE IRONY of the situation struck him. For months as the junior officer in a Fairmile he had patrolled the Strait of Gibraltar hoping for a chance at a sub, and the nearest they had got was to let fly at a rock awash in the seas in the grey light of a dawn such as this. In consequence they had become the butt of their flotilla until a few weeks later when their flotilla leader made the same mistake himself with the same rock. Now, here he was with a sub within three hundred yards, and instead of commanding the M.T.B. or Fairmile that he had hoped for when he got his second stripe, instead of having a fighting ship to meet this opportunity, all he had under his feet was a glorified ferry-boat. The men were still lounging by their tanks, but their little motions and gestures of a moment ago had ceased. They were very still, very quiet. The Leading Seaman silently rejoined the Lieutenant on the bridge. He looked straight up into the sky above the ship, and then peered again towards the source of the steady humming. “Fog’s getting thinner, sir,” he said. “Whatever it is, it seems to be dead ahead.” McNeill resisted a light-headed temptation to say, “Wish it were dead, ahead,” and at that moment the Leading Seaman stiffened and pointed. Right over the ramp at the bows McNeil could make out a darker blur of fog. “Oh for a gun, a real gun,” he thought, and then swung towards the killick. “Lower the ramp,” he ordered, and threw himself down the ladder and made for the sergeant in charge of the forward tank, leaving the killick wondering if the Lieutenant had gone crazy. FOR MONTHS of the tank gunner's training he had been prepared to deal with various beach defences. Now as the ramp before him ponderously swayed outwards and sloped away to a level position he saw, framed in the gap, the silhouette of a submarine against the receding fog. “Gaw’ love me,” he muttered, spinning wheels efficiently, “join the Army and see the world." Figures rushed to the sub’s gun and it swung towards the landing barge. The tank gunner fired and as the barge shuddered at the shock there was a great splash close to the sub’s conning-tower. A shell from the sub screamed over the barge, carrying away the wireless mast. “Get his gun, blast you!” yelled McNeil in the general direction of the tank. He was back on the bridge and on either side of him the machine-guns were chattering ineffectually, for the sub’s gunners were protected by a gunshield. He afterwards thought that, though his words were inaudible in the surrounding bedlam, he had been rather rude to the tank gunner who, after all, was performing somewhat in the capacity of a guest artist. The tank’s second shell was over, but its third took the sub’s gun fair and square, and that was that. The figures on the sub's conning-tower disappeared and slowly her deck became awash — she was submerging. “Red, one-four-five, a ship, sir,” called the Leading Seaman. "Destroyer - one of the Hunt class, sir.” McNeil gave it a brief glance and then went on watching the disappearing conning tower. The sub had moved forward and was no longer ahead of the barge – the tank gunner could no longer see his target. IN A MATTER of seconds the destroyer plowed through the swirl left by the U-boat and let go a pattern of depth-charges. “That ought to fix 'em,” muttered the killick. Apparently the destroyer thought so too, for she paid no further attention to the sub but swung in a wide arc and steamed past fifty yards from the landing barge. MacNeil could see a figure in the wing of her bridge, and a megaphone pointed in his direction. “Quite a fighting ship you have there,” came the voice. “Good luck!” and the destroyer melted into the remnants of the fog, bent on her own urgent affairs. As an engine room artificer stepped up to MacNeil and said, “All set now, sir,” far to the southeast all hell broke loose. “The Sitting Duck” hauled up her ramp and set off towards it. The End Surprise Party Published in "The Standard" (date unknown, $20.00!) By Lewis Evans ILLUSTRATED BY ROY DYER HIS SUBMARINE idling at periscope depth in the cold waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, Ober- leutnant Seidel watched the plume of smoke climb over the horizon. It was still too early to figure the ship’s course and manoeuvre into effective range, and far too early to identify the type of ship. “Well,” he thought to himself, “at least she is no Banks fishing schooner—not with that plume of smoke.” He still regretted the expenditure of his last but one torpedo on that fisherman two nights ago. She had been running under auxiliary power, and with her stump masts he had mistaken her size in the gathering darkness. An investigation of her wreckage with the sub's searchlight had revealed several broken-backed dories and a mess of cleaned and salted codfish, and his second in command had looked for a moment as though he wanted to laugh. Ah, well, the destroyed schooner didn’t look so badly in the sub's logbook as “motor-driven coastal cargo ship.” Oberleutnant took another long look at the approaching vessel. She was no destroyer, anyway—her slow speed and broad beam told him that. He made out derricks on her foremast—that ruled out a corvette. She was steaming almost at right angles to his bows, and would pass about two miles ahead of him. He decided to close in, and grated an order to his second. The order echoed from man to man in the steel hull, and the sub began to move. Five minutes passed, and then Seidel slipped off his stool. “What do you make of her?” he asked his second in command, motioning him towards the eyepiece. That officer peered for a minute. “Flushdecked,” he muttered, “A tanker, sir but . . .” He hesitated, still peering. “But what?” “Her engines are amidships, sir. Unusual for a tanker.” Seidel took up his position at the periscope again and had another look. Then he lowered the periscope below the surface, ordered half-speed, and turned a superior smile on his puzzled second. No wonder the fellow was puzzled, thought Seidel—the ship was unusual, all right, but he knew what she was. Just before the war he had been on a training cruise and had put in at Bergen, and there he had seen a vessel with a peculiar stern like that. “She’s a whale factory,” he said, and laughed at the expression on the other’s face. “The Norwegians had such ships before the war — South Atlantic, mostly. There is a great ramp in the stern, and they used to pull a whale’s carcass aboard whole and do all the work of a whaling station while keeping up with the trawlers that did the actual harpooning. Our friends must be very short of ships if they’re using that tub for cargo-carrying.” He took another sight at the ship. He could see her ensign flying from a gaff on her mainmast, but it was either too dirty or too distant for him to tell whether it was Norwegian or British. His thoughts went to the single torpedo in the forward tubes, and to the long trip home. Then he looked at the expressionless face of his second in command and made his decision. He didn't want it said that he had expended his last two torpedoes on a fishing schooner and a whale factory, of all things. “We’ll surface and attack by gunfire,” he said. Bells rang and the gun crew got ready for their dash to action stations. The sub lifted towards the surface. ABOARD the ex-Norwegian whale-factory Odda a lookout had reported a periscope off the starboard bow, distant the best part of a mile. Gongs had clanged for action stations, and the ship held her course. The R.C.N.V.R. lieutenant on her bridge was pleased. “Not forty miles from where the Coastal Patrol plane reported wreckage of that schooner yesterday,” he thought. He glanced astern over his strange command and saw the men who handled the smoke-pots at their stations right aft. He could not see the old whale-ramp because of the superstructure amidships, but he could imagine the scene there . . . the fifty foot motor-launch in her sliding crib, her bow towards the Odda’s stern, her high-powered, specially cooled engines warmed and idling, her crew tense and watching the great steel flap which cut off the after end of the ramp from the sea, the rows of depth charges on the launch’s after deck. “Sub on starboard beam!" Two lookouts dead-heated on the shout. There she was, white water pouring from her decks, about half a mile off. As her gun crew swarmed on deck a machine-gun from the Odda started an intermittent chattering, and a gun crew staged a well-rehearsed rush for their antiquated weapon mounted on a bridge-like structure over the ramp astern. When their first shot eventually got away it raised a spout of foam just where they wanted it—three hundred yards wide of the sub and a little short. The first shell from the sub screamed over the Odda’s bows. The second hulled her forward, at the waterline. The lieutenant on the bridge thought of the watertight bulkheads and the whale-oil tanks now crammed with buoyant lumber, and grinned. His quartermaster, according to plan, swung the ship towards the sub to close the distance, and the sub altered course to port to evade any ramming action by the Odda . Another shell from the sub crossed the Odda’s bows and a fourth burst on the superstructure abaft her funnel. The whale-factory’s machine-gun fell silent, but it had not been hit. The smoke-pots astern burst into acrid life and their contents billowed over and around the Odda’s stern. The lieutenant snapped an order and a clang from far astern told him that the great flap had been lifted, and he could imagine the released crib sliding smoothly aft with its load. "Surprise, surprise!” he murmured happily to nobody in particular. The motor-launch’s heavily guarded screws were already turning as she took the water, and then she was out of the smoke and roaring for the sub, a heavy machine-gun on her bow searching for the gun crew, and echoed by renewed fire from the Odda’s guns. OBERLEUTNANT SEIDEL knew all about the “Q-ships” of the last war. He was not to be fooled by them, but this was different. He took one more amazed look at the grey shape bouncing towards him, ordered a crash dive, and threw himself down the conning-tower hatch. His gun crew, less three men who had been hit, scuttled for safety. As the sea foamed over the submerging U-boat the launch roared past parallel to her, not twenty feet away, and two ash-cans set for eight fathoms plopped into her seething wake. The Oberleutnant’s thoughts at this moment, freely translated into English, would have been “Let’s get to hell out of here,” which is precisely where he got. The End Down To Heaven (Published in “The Standard” Montreal, September 27, 1941, $12.50!) By L. EVANS He dropped to Earth and thought he was in heaven HIS packed parachute bumped clumsily against the back of his thighs as he crossed the dark field towards the sound of the idling motors. He tried to make himself believe that this was just another practice, that he was still in training, but the horrible emptiness in his middle gave him the lie. He was scared, and he was thankful that the darkness hid his face. He and his companions groped their way into the big transport and sat down. A dim light forward showed them the pilot and navigator, their heads bent over a map. Helmut stared at them fixedly, hoping that concentration of his mind would prevent him from being sick — sick with fear. Their job was simple, he thought. They just had to fly high to certain points, dump their living cargo, and fly home. Compared with his job theirs seemed easy, safe, comfortable. IT was the unknown that frightened a man thought Helmut. The plane crew knew what to expect in the way of danger - attack by fighter planes, anti-aircraft fire, or forced landing on land or sea. But he - Helmut - how could he know what was in store for him? Death, probably; death or capture certainly. But how? Before or after he had done his job on the power plant? How? A sentry’s rifle? A night watchman’s baton? A farmer’s pitchfork? Helmut shuddered and closed his eyes. The plane took off, climbed gradually, and steadied on its course. There’s the difference, thought Helmut suddenly. The plane crew’s brightest hope is return, and my brightest hope is capture. The very best I can expect is capture and internment. A fine thing my life is, when prison seems like heaven! The plane droned on through the black night, flying very high and very steadily. The parachutists began fidgeting with their equipment. They’re scared too, thought Helmut, but the younger ones, anyway, are partly afraid of failing in their task. They know only this stern life, and they are efficient. So am I, or I wouldn’t be here, but I am older. I can remember another way of life. The navigator made a signal, and two men moved towards the door. Another signal, and they were gone. The plane altered course, and in a few moments the navigator’s gloved hand reappeared. Two more men dived into darkness. MY objective is the third we come to thought Helmut, and the waiting is over. I am not afraid of the jump - I know all about that part of the job. I fear only the unknown future. The glove moved and Helmut flung himself into the blackness and cold. The opening ’chute jerked him savagely, and gradually his dizzy swinging slowed down. As he drifted downwards he tried to figure the direction and force of the wind, if any. That was the first thing - to fix his own position, and then to find the power plant. The little fear he felt about landing was lost in the great fear of the unknown future, and he felt little relief when he dropped on open ground, though it might have been a wood or a power line. His, efficient training showed as he quickly got rid of his parachute. He did not have to think - his hands busied themselves and the complicated tangle of ropes and material was stowed under a stunted bush. Luminous compass in hand, Helmut crouched, listening. The silence terrified him. He felt the whole hostile countryside of England round him, deadly still, but ready at any moment to extinguish this lone enemy by some unknown unpredictable action. Helmut forced himself to read the compass, putting it on the ground and getting as far from it as sight permitted, so that the metal in his equipment would not affect the needle. He was supposed to have been dropped two miles south of his objective; so he started to move northwards. If he did not find it in the first half hour he would start circling east and west. He crept on across the field, surprised that it took him so long to reach its boundary. He expected a hedge - England was covered with hedges, they said. HE encountered no hedge - he came to wire. A fine seven foot barbed wire fence, and on each side a barbed wire apron, arranged with ingenuity. Helmut stared at it in amazement. According to his instructions the power plant was the only important point in the district, and therefore the only one likely to be so protected. Could he have hit upon it already? He could cut his way through the fence, but those aprons would take time. He decided to move along the fence to the west, and perhaps he would find a spot where the aprons were less formidable. A hundred and fifty yards to the west he stopped. The fence made a right-angle turn - to the south. Helmut was inside the angle. His training made him turn east, retrace his steps, and he moved faster than before, with less regard for stealth. Two hundred yards or so, and another angle - turning south. His stomach cold as ice, Helmut threw one look over his shoulder and started cutting the wire. Whether he was inside the defenses of the plant or not he would need some means of exit. He would make a passage through the wire, and then find out what lay to the south. He cut rapidly and the apron gradually yielded a passage. Suddenly he paused. Someone was coming - a sentry? A flashlight flicked on and off. Helmut’s training sent his hand towards his gun. A cut end of wire scraped on the shears in his left hand. The flashlight’s beam cut the darkness, wavered, and then fixed on him. Helmut froze. A safety catch clicked. So this was the unknown. “Don’t move,” commanded the advancing voice. Then - “Wot the ’ell! It’s a ruddy parashooter! Come out of that, Jerry, you’re home. You’ve landed inside an internment camp." The End NEXT PAGE

Mary Elizabeth (Minnie) Rhodes 1857-1942 & Henry Francis (Harry) Morewood 1855-1916 NEXT PAGE PREVIOUS This page under construction

Canoes, Punts, Rowboats Canots, Punts, Chaloupes Birchbark Canoe 1910 Canot d'écorce 1910 Godfrey, Lily, and Catherine Rhodes Plage Tadoussac Beach 1901 Godfrey Rhodes, Minnie (Rhodes) Morewood, Dorothy (Dorsh) Rhodes (Evans), ?, Billy Morewood, Carrie Rhodes (Morewood) 1901 Nancy Morewood, Catherine Rhodes (Tudor-Hart), Frank E Morewood K Ewart holding on tight K Ewart tenant serré Dean Lewis Evans et Marjorique pêchent près du Lark Reef 1910 Dean Lewis Evans and Marjorique fishing near Lark Reef, 1910 1900's The "WHITE BOAT" circa 1910 at the Marguerite Dressed all in white and pulling the boat to the shore of the Saguenay, 1917 Tout de blanc vêtu et en tirant le bateau à la rive de la rivière Saguenay, 1917 Nan (Rhodes) and Lennox Williams Lily and Frances Rhodes Mary Williams (Wallace) in the "White Boat" Pte a la Croix 1910's Lennox Williams Sydney Williams Adele Languedoc Mary Williams (Wallace) ? Lily Rhodes Nan (Rhodes) Williams Marjorie Gagnon helped my father, Lewis Evans with his model of a Lower St Lawrence Yawl, about 1918. In 1951 Lewis Evans bought a very old yawl and restored it, the "Bonne Chance" shown at right in a painting by Tom Roberts. Majorque Gagnon a aidé mon père, Lewis Evans avec son modèle d'un Yole Bas-St Laurent , vers 1918. En 1951, Lewis Evans a acheté un yole très vieux et le restaura, le "Bonne Chance" illustré à droite dans un tableau de Tom Roberts. 1920's "Explorer" Jean Alexander (Aylan-Parker) and Jim Alexander Lewis Evans & Harry Dawson Baude River above the dam Bill Morewood, ?, Jack Wallace 1930's Bill and Frank E Morewood Ainslie Evans (Stephen) Betty Morewood (Evans) Phoebe Evans (Skutezky) Robin and Doris Molson Jack, Verity and Robin Molson 1930's Susan Williams (Webster), ?, Joan Williams (Ballantyne), Jim Williams, ?? Joan Williams (Ballantyne), ?? Harry Morewood, Jimmy Williams, Simon Wallace (friend), Joan Williams (Ballantyne), Frank Morewood, Susan Williams (Webster), Jennifer and Delia Tudor-Hart, Bobby Morewood Sheila Williams (Campbell), Penny Smith (Younger) 1942 Jimmy Williams, Susan Williams (Webster) 1942 Alan Findley, Betty, Anne and Lewis Evans, and dog Smitty in the punt! No Life Jackets 1950 Alan Findley, Betty, Anne and Lewis Evans, et le chien Smitty dans le punt! Pas de gilets de sauvetage 1950 Jim and Ted Aylan-Parker Jean (Alexander) Aylan-Parker 1955 ? & Willie Leggatt 1964 44

Été à Tadoussac Summer 1920-1940 NEXT PAGE PREVIOUS Mnay photos that I have collected from the summer community in Tadoussac are from the 1920's and 1930's. This was a time when many of our parents and grandparents were young and were lucky enough to enjoy summers in Tadoussac. They did many of the same activities that we do today, but they certainly wore different clothes! I hope it will give you a feel for what it was like to grow up in the summer community in those days. You may recognize some of the people! This is LONG, take your time! Seven Pages Please let me know what you think, or if you have corrections, or additions! Beaucoup de photos que je l'ai recueillies auprès de la communauté d'été à Tadoussac sont des années 1920 et 1930. Ce fut un temps où beaucoup de nos parents et grands-parents étaient jeunes et ont eu la chance de profiter des étés à Tadoussac. Ils ont fait un grand nombre des mêmes activités que nous faisons aujourd'hui, mais ils portaient des vêtements différents! Je l'espère, il vous donnera une idée de ce qu'elle était de grandir dans la communauté d'été dans ces jours. Vous pouvez reconnaître certaines des personnes! Cela est longue, prenez votre temps! 7 chapitres S'il vous plaît laissez-moi savoir ce que vous pensez, ou si vous avez des corrections ou des ajouts! First Page Première Page The Village of Tadoussac La ville de Tadoussac Travel by Car?? Voyage en Voiture?? Travel by Steamer Voyage par Steamer Second Page Deuxième Page The Summer Cottages Les Chalets d'été Third Page Troisième Page Picnics and the Beaches Pique-nique et les Plages Fourth Page Quatrième Page Meeting the Boat Rencontrer le Bateau Fifth Page Cinquième Page Saguenay Trips Des excursions sur le Saguenay Sixth Page Sixième Page Sports Sports Seventh Page Septième Page (More) Faces of Tadoussac (Plus) Visages de Tadoussac PREVIOUS NEXT PAGE

PREVIOUS War Lest we forget! Many of our family friends/relatives/ancestors served in uniform. If you have more photos please send them! Ne l'oublions pas! Beaucoup de nos amis / parents / ancêtres de la famille ont servi en uniforme. Si vous avez plus de photos, envoyez-les! NEXT PAGE William Rhodes lived in England, and served in the War of 1812 for the British in Quebec William's brother Godfrey lived in England and served in the Crimean war in the 1850's. His son William Rhodes was posted by the British Army to Quebec in the 1840's and from then on he lived in Quebec and Tadoussac. Dean Lewis Evans, my grandfather. Trevor Evans, son of Lewis Evans Isobel (Billy) Morewood, Frank's sister Frank Morewood, my other grandfather Carrie Rhodes, my grandmother, who married Frank Morewood after the war Frank Morewood's Application for Discharge, has a lot of information. Lived in Rosemont, Pennsylvania, near Philadelphia Born in Quebec, July 8, 1886 Appointed 2nd Lt F.A. June 1, 1918 Assigned to Field Artillery and a Balloon Company Stationed in South Carolina, New Jersey and Massachusetts Engagement "Meuse Argonne" from Wikipedia: The Meuse–Argonne offensive was a major part of the final Allied offensive of World War I that stretched along the entire Western Front . It was fought from September 26, 1918, until the Armistice of November 11, 1918 , a total of 47 days. The Meuse–Argonne offensive was the largest in United States military history , involving 1.2 million American soldiers . It is the second deadliest battle in American history , resulting in over 350,000 casualties. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meuse–Argonne_offensive Served overseas from June 18/18 until July 5/19 Discharged July 24/19, 0 per cent disabled on discharge Enl Serv means Enlisted Service Bobby Morewood, brother Nan (Rhodes) and Lennox Williams had 4 children. Jim married Evelyn in 1916, Mary who married Jack Wallace, Gertrude who married Ron Alexander, and Sydney who was probably too young to go overseas. Jim Williams and his wife Evelyn Meredith in Europe More about him on this site https://www.tidesoftadoussac.com/james-w-williams General Ronald Alexander, brother-in-law of Jim Williams, with his daughter Jean Alexander (Aylan-Parker) Sydney Williams at Brynhyfryd, with Dorothy Rhodes (Evans), Rachel Webb (Stairs), his sister Gertrude Alexander, and in front cousin Lily Rhodes Jack Wallace and a friend in 1915 below, WW1 warships in Tadoussac Bay Three related couples who were married in the late 1930's. Jean Alexander married John Aylan-Parker (below). Her brother Jim Alexander married Barbara Hampson (right) and Jim's buddy Ted Price married Mary Hampson. READ the letter lower on this page that mentions all these people. George Stairs at right on the Noroua in Tadoussac Bay, with his brother Colin and Lewis Evans Trevor Evans Lionel O'Neill Bob and Nan (Wallace) Leggat This is a very interesting letter written in 1939 by Lily Rhodes to her first cousin Carrie (Rhodes) Morewood. With our Tadoussac connections it's amazing that 80+ years later almost all the names are people whose descendants are still in contact. Of course the three newlywed couples were heading to Europe where WW2 had already begun. Lilybell Rhodes (50) grew up at Spencer Grange, a large house that still exists in Quebec City, and at this time probably lived at Bagatelle (below), although the address has been changed from the one on the letter. Carrie Morewood (58) (my grandmother) is living in Pennsylvania, with her husband Frank and their two children Betty (my mother) and Bill. https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villa_Bagatelle << Frances and Lilybell Rhodes The first paragraph might refer to the estate of Lily (Jamison) Rhodes, who is the only relative who died in 1939, she was wife of Godfrey who died in 1932. Frankie (5) is Frank Morewood, who currently lives in Oakville and has done extensive research on the Rhodes and Morewood families. I don't have a photo of him at 5, but below is Margaret and Bobby Morewood, his parents, flanking Sidney Williams, and Frank and Harry. Above, the Claridge on Grande Allee in Quebec City. left Mary and Ted at her sister Barbara Hampson's wedding Lily has been to the wedding of her cousin Jean Alexander to John Aylan-Parker (left), and much of the letter is about who she saw there. Amazing how many people have descendants who know each other today in Tadoussac. Quick review: Ted Price married Mary Hampson, sister of Barbara Hampson, who married Ted's friend Jim Alexander, whose sister Jean Alexander married John Aylan-Parker. Got it? right Jim, Ronald and Jean Alexander, in the famous white boat! below Many of the people mentioned in the letter Gertrude (Williams) Alexander, Lilybell Rhodes who wrote the letter, Jean and John Aylan-Parker, Joan Williams (Ballantyne), Nan (Wallace) Leggat, Mary (Williams) Wallace, Bishop Lennox Williams above Jean Alexander and Barbara Hampson, who married her brother Jim Alexander. << Need the newspaper clipping and photos! Jack Wallace, Jim and Jean Alexander, Nan Wallace (Leggat), Michael Wallace, Joan, Susan and Jim Williams right, Frank Morewood building the house on property he doesn't own yet! In fact, the house was built in 1936, and this letter is written 3 years later in 1939! below, Frank and Carrie Morewood, to whom the letter was written (my grandparents!) left, Barbara Hampson and Jim Alexander below, back row, Billy Morewood, Ainslie (hiding), Billy Morewood, Jean Alexander and Betty Morewood front row not sure the boys, probably Jim Williams is the young one, and Joan and Susan Williams right May Dawson, below Emily Evans and her daughter-in-law Betty (Morewood) Evans 235 St. Louis Road Québec November 24, 1939 Dear Carrie Thank you for yours of the 19th. Something has cashed the check for $308 from mother's account so I imagine the trust co. in Philadelphia must have the money. As you say, trust cos. are very slow. Frankie, I believe has to have his tonsils or adenoids out (I don't know which). He has been laid up with a cold for 3 weeks and when it clears up they plan to operate. I was at Margaret's yesterday at the tea she had for Nany's guest Marjorie Ross. Frankie looked a bit white faced, but was dressed and played about quite happily. Teddy Price and Mary Hampson were married the same day as Jean and now have a small apartment near them in the Claridge. Just for your own ears - I found Jean looking frightfully thin, and nervous. Poor child I think all these changes of plans have been very hard on her. To have gotten her little apartment in Toronto all furnished and then have had to give it up was a better blow. Just how long it is before John sails, goodness knows. Some say anytime but Jean hopes he'll be here a month or perhaps longer. She still seems very excitable. I wish she could have started married life under more peaceful auspices. Here are the newspaper pictures of them. Will you please send them onto Frances at Kent Place School, Sumit, and ask her to return them to me. Johnie looks younger than your Billy! Gertrude had on a teal blue short dress and smart hat of same shade and a little corsage of pink roses. She never looked better - so bright and cheerful. She has an awfully nice roomy house in a very good residential section. They seemed very comfortably situated. Jim looked thinner and rather serious. He was expecting Barbara on the evening train. She had been maid of honor at Mary's wedding that day. She was to spend the weekend with the Alexanders. The gray blue airman's uniform looked very well on Jim. I heard many people remark "What a fine son the Brigadier has." Jackie (Wallace) does not look too well. He told me he was having trouble with his hip joint. Some bone has grown too large for the socket and causes pain when he exercises. So he is going slow as to hockey and football, but by resting it hopes to get in some skiing after Christmas. Mary (Williams Wallace) makes light of the trouble so don't mention it. Michael (Wallace) has had a hernia operation in Montréal, but is getting on well. Big Jack and Mary (Wallace) both looked very well. Mary was in black. Uncle Lenny (Williams) made a nice wedding speech. Wilma Price Glassco, Miss (May) Dawson, Mrs. (Emily) Evans, and Mrs. (Johnathan) Dwight were the Tad people present. Mrs. Dwight came up and spoke to me. I would not have known her. She looks so much older (as do we all know doubt). She looked very handsome, but stern and said "you know Frank Morewood has built a house on a bit of my land that he does not yet own". Her sister (I think) Mrs. Adam was with her. Mary sent out the boys Jim and Jack for a good hot dinner before the wedding - a wise move or she felt with so much champagne to be drunk in healths. But I did not see anyone the worse and most people only had one glass. Elspeth took Mary, Jack, Ronald, Gertrude and me to dine at the Royal York Hotel in the evening. Great fun, lots of officers in uniform about and pretty girls in evening clothes. The wedding presents were lovely, clocks, lamps, silver trays, Little tables of various kinds, cigarette boxes etc etc. Gert and Ronald gave her a diamond ring that had belong to Aunt Nan. Gert said her trousseau cost $300 and she did not think any other present was necessary but gave the ring so she would have something from her parents. I have not seen her in Québec as yet - but she is lunching with the family in turn this week and next begins the more formal parties. Mrs. Harry Price is giving the brides a tea as is Mrs. Lex Smith. Arthur Smith sent Jean a lovely sterling silver rose bowl, the only thing of the kind she received. John's aunt Mrs. Fraser is a large formidable looking lady of 60 odd who was once a great beauty. I think it gives her great satisfaction to have her nephew married to the Bishops granddaughter. She was dressed in blue sapphire velvet - long and very imposing. She was a Lennoxville girl. John's mother died and his father is also dead. His only brother has been lately injured in a football game and is recovering in a hospital. We are thinking of a new car too. Our 1929 model is really passé. I often listen to Mr. Swing on the radio but mother finds too much radio tiring. John ( Aylan-Parker) has a car which brings him in and out of Valcartier daily. They have just a large bedroom and bath at the Claridge. I am glad Betty Morewood (Evans) is getting off to college next year. It will give her something definite to do for a few years never mind what her life is later gives mental discipline. Frank (Morewood) must have his work cut out for him with that ships rigging. I am glad he is got at it. It should be an interesting piece of work. Love from Lily 1941 in England, Jim & Barbara, Mary & Ted with babies. The babies are Michael Alexander and Greville Price! NEXT PAGE

PREVIOUS EVANS Arrival in Canada NEXT PAGE This page is about My great-grandfather Francis Evans 1801-1858, who came to Canada from Ireland with his wife Maria Lewis in 1842. They had 12 children, and lived near Simcoe in southern Ontario. Their 11th child was Thomas Frye Lewis Evans 1846-1919, my grandfather, who spent many summers in Tadoussac (see next page). According two other people's research, we are descended from a Welsh Prince of 1000 years ago, and two brothers who moved from Wales to Ireland in the 1400's. Francis Evans 1803-1858 The Evans family house in Ireland The Evans family house is in the middle of Ireland! From the Dictionary of Canadian Biography (slightly abridged) EVANS, FRANCIS, Church of England clergyman and educator; b. 1 Jan. 1801 in Lough Park, an estate near Castlepollard, County Westmeath (Republic of Ireland), son of Francis Evans; m. c. 1825 Maria Sophia Lewis, and they had six sons and six daughters; d. September 1858 in County Westmeath, and was buried in Castlepollard. Francis Evans, a graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, arrived in Lower Canada in 1824, intent on entering the Anglican ministry. His decision to emigrate may have been influenced by the presence in the Canadas of his uncle, Thomas Evans , a soldier. Shortly after arriving he went back to Europe to marry, and then returned to the colony. On 11 Nov. 1826 he became a deacon, was appointed curate two days later to the Reverend Robert Quirk Short at Trois-Rivières, and was ordained priest on 27 Oct. 1827 by Bishop Charles James Stewart . Evans did well at Trois-Rivières, reporting in 1827 that his congregation had grown by one-third since his arrival even though there had been no increase in population. Nevertheless, he accepted a missionary posting to Upper Canada sponsored by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. In October 1828 he took his young, growing family to Norfolk County where St John’s, near the village of Simcoe in Woodhouse Township, became his home church. He was the first Anglican clergyman to settle in Woodhouse, even though his parishioners, largely United Empire Loyalists and their descendants, had built the church some years before in anticipation of a permanent appointment. Like most Anglican clerics, Evans concentrated his efforts by ministering regularly to a few settled charges. He attempted, however, to preach occasionally in “every place that it is in my power to visit.” He found his labours well received. In 1830 he reflected, “It is particularly gratifying to perceive that the prejudices against our Establishment which were very prevalent are disappearing most rapidly.” None the less, the privileged position of the Church of England ensured it and its servants a host of enemies. William Lyon Mackenzie , for one, twice publicly portrayed Evans as unfeeling and uncaring, characteristics allegedly typical of Anglican clergymen. In 1836 Evans found himself in the public eye again when Lieutenant Governor Sir John Colborne responded to the critics of the church’s claims to establishment by endowing 44 Anglican rectories, one of which went to Evans. The rectories, and Anglican pretensions generally, certainly helped bring about the Upper Canadian rebellion, which affected Evans dramatically. In December 1837 Charles Duncombe and Eliakim Malcolm, responding to rumours that rebels had taken Toronto, mustered some 400 to 500 insurgents southwest of Brantford. On the night of 12 December Evans led a little loyalist band bearing messages through rebel lines to Brantford. The next day the rector bravely went to the insurgent camp “to expostulate,” as a fellow priest recorded, “with the deluded schismatics.” Evans brought news of the governor’s proclamation promising pardon for those returning peacefully home. For his efforts, he was detained. Fortunately, release came soon when the rebels dispersed upon discovering that Mackenzie had been defeated in Toronto and that forces, led by Allan Napier MacNab , were marching against them. But Evans could not escape controversy. In the trials that followed he testified against several prominent insurrectionists, thereby earning further ill will. On 2 Oct. 1838 a mob occupied the Congregational church in Burford Township to prevent his preaching there. Eventually the clamour faded, and Evans settled back into an all too penurious routine. As was the custom with other clerics he had to supplement his meagre income by teaching. He first operated a boarding-school and began teaching at the district grammar school in Simcoe when it opened in 1839. As a teacher he took special interest in aspiring clergymen. He also laboured earnestly at his regular pastoral duties, establishing some 14 congregations in the surrounding district. He toiled for the Upper Canada Bible Society and spread the temperance message. At the time of his death he was an archdeacon and rural dean of Norfolk County. These toils exhausted Evans. In 1855 Bishop John Strachan , who thought him “an active and zealous Missionary,” warned him that a continuance of his “usual labours” would be too much for him, and he was right. In a futile effort to recover his health Evans holidayed in Ireland in 1858 but died there between 5 and 7 September after spending only a week with a brother and sister. In Canada he left a monument of solid if unspectacular work and a large, well-educated family. Colin Frederick Read AND let's not forget his wife, Maria Sophia Lewis, who probably had a lot to do with the large, well-educated and successful family! She was b orn in Martock, Somerset, England on 1804 to Thomas Fry Lewis and Charlotte Georgina Forter. She passed away on 29 Jul 1881 in (interestingly) Québec City. St. John's Church, Woodhouse, just south of Simcoe Ontario #6 "Another son b 1845" is Thomas Frye Lewis Evans, the Dean who ended up in Tadoussac!>> This document at left was created in the 1950's, and has lots of information about the Evans and Lewis families and descendants. Several excerpts have been shown above if you don't want to read the whole thing! (The document at left is 38 pages and it's a pdf so you can read it - I made page 35!) NEXT PAGE

PREVIOUS Benmore Quebec NEXT PAGE 1848-1948 Col. Rhodes bought the house in 1848. He died in 1892, his wife Granny Ann Rhodes lived there until 1911. Their daughter Minnie Rhodes Morewood (died 1942) and Henry (Harry) Morewood (died 1916) lived there with their children John, Frank, Nancy, Billy, and Bobby Morewood. Frank Morewood writes: It was a great house to me (not a mansion like Cataraqui but I loved spending time at Benmore and I did spend a lot of time there). My parents were living there when I was born, as my father (Bobby) had lost his job in the depression and he went home to his mother's place with his whole family. At that time it housed my father's mother, two sisters, one of his two brothers and two maids. Benmore was in the family from 1848 to 1948. Colonel Rhodes a acheté la maison en 1848. Il est mort en 1892, son épouse Granny Ann Rhodes y vécut jusqu'en 1911. Leur fille Minnie Rhodes Morewood (mort en 1942) et Henry (Harry) Morewood (mort en 1916) a vécu dans la maison avec leurs enfants John, Frank, Nancy, Billy, et Bobby Morewood. Frank Morewood écrit: C'était une grande maison pour moi (pas une manoir comme Cataraqui mais j'ai adoré passer du temps à Benmore et j'ai fait passer beaucoup de temps là-bas). Mes parents vivaient là quand je suis né, mon père (Bobby) avait perdu son emploi dans la dépression et il rentra chez lui pour la place de sa mère avec toute sa famille. A cette époque, il abritait la mère de mon père, deux sœurs, l'une de ses deux frères et deux servantes. Benmore était dans la famille de 1848 à 1948. Frank Morewood (my grandfather) Vue sur la St-Laurent Minnie and Harry Morewood Billy, Minnie and Bobby Morewood 1890's Carrie and her mother Caroline Rhodes, Minnie Morewood, Billy and Frank, about 1893 Granny (1890's) with Frank Morewood & Jimmy Williams Charlie Rhodes Mary Williams Wallace Armitage Rhodes driving, Godfrey's wife Lily, Minnie and Bobby Morewood, Granny at the back, about 1910. Benmore Tennis C ourt Just two stories, 3rd floor added in 1864 Seulement deux étages, 3ème étage a été ajouté en 1864 View of the St Lawrence The horse's name is Jack Le cheval est appelé Jack I took the photo above in 2001 Granny and Hem on the porch around 1900. Next door, Godfrey's house Cataraquai, that's Godfrey with the dog, about 1920's. Juste à côté, la maison de Godfrey Cataraquai, c'est Godfrey avec le chien, environ 1920. Back to Home Page NEXT PAGE

Tadoussac Main Street - Rue Principale Pierre Cid Cote Mayer Villeneuve Bourgouin Bouliane Cafe Blue Manior Tadoussac Galouine Boheme Tadoussac Main Street - Rue Principale Then and Now - Hier et Aujourd'hui With Biographies of Pierre Cid and Johnny Maher by Daniel Delisle PhD! 1850-1880 There are very few photos of the main street of Tadoussac prior to the construction of the Église de la Sainte-Croix in the late 1880's. These photos show the Hudson's Bay Post on the front lawn of the Hotel Tadoussac, so they are prior to 1870 when the Post was demolished. One of the first buildings on the Main Street is the building that is presently La Galouïne Restaurant. Il existe très peu de photos de la rue principale de Tadoussac avant la construction de l'église de la Sainte-Croix à la fin des années 1880. Ces photos montrent le poste de la Baie d'Hudson sur la pelouse de l'hôtel Tadoussac. Elles datent donc d'avant 1870, lorsque le poste a été démoli. L'un des premiers bâtiments de la rue principale est celui qui abrite actuellement le restaurant La Galouïne. The Hotel Tadoussac was built in 1864, and around the same time five houses were built on the Main Street further east, today they are Cote, Chez Ida, Hovington, Stairs and Beattie. These five houses were built by the Prices, perhaps as residences for the Hotel staff. It must have been a busy time for construction in Tadoussac! There is a gap between the last two houses, that was filled in much later. L'Hôtel Tadoussac a été construit en 1864, et à peu près à la même époque cinq maisons ont été construites sur la rue Main plus à l'est, il s'agit aujourd'hui de Côté, Chez Ida, Hovington, Stairs et Beattie. Ces cinq maisons furent construites par les Price, peut-être comme résidences pour le personnel de l'Hôtel. Cela a dû être une période chargée pour la construction à Tadoussac ! Il existe un écart entre les deux dernières maisons, qui a été comblé bien plus tard. Just up the street overlooking the bay are the first three summer residences, built by Powel, Russell and Rhodes in the early 1860's. Juste au bout de la rue surplombant la baie se trouvent les trois premières résidences d'été, construites par Powel, Russell et Rhodes au début des années 1860. 1880-1910 Église de la Sainte-Croix in the late 1880's. The first photos (maybe) just before it was built. The panorama with the steamer is early 1890's, after the church was built but before the hotel was expanded in 1900. There's a big gap just east of "Cid's" so the Bourgouin house has not yet been built. Interesting building by the bridge with a gallery on the roof! Église de la Sainte-Croix à la fin des années 1880. Les premières photos (peut-être) juste avant sa construction. Le panorama avec le bateau à vapeur date du début des années 1890, après la construction de l'église mais avant l'agrandissement de l'hôtel en 1900. Il y a une grande brèche juste à l'est du "Cid's", donc la maison Bourgouin n'est pas encore construite. Bâtiment intéressant près du pont avec une galerie sur le toit ! Circa 1905 This photo is from my family album of 1901. According to the biography of Johnny Maher (below) he built a house next door to the Cid Store, and it burned in 1902. He then built the larger building in the next photo. The "Cid's" building has no sign (maybe a small one over the door?), although the store started about this time. Cette photo est tirée de mon album de famille de 1901. D'après la biographie de Johnny Maher (ci-dessous), il a construit une maison à côté du magasin Cid, et elle a brûlé en 1902. Il a ensuite construit le plus grand bâtiment de la photo suivante. Le bâtiment du "Cid's" n'a aucune enseigne (peut-être une petite au-dessus de la porte ?), bien que le magasin ait ouvert ses portes à cette époque. Circa 1910, the Maher building has expanded, and the "Manoir Tadoussac" has a new roof with a tower! (Or maybe it's a new building?) Vers 1910, le bâtiment Maher s'agrandit et le "Manoir Tadoussac" a un nouveau toit avec une tour ! (Ou peut-être que c'est un nouveau bâtiment ?) Closer up the store signs are visible, "J N Maher Épicièr" and "Pierre Cid Marchand General". Biographies of both Maher and Cid below! Plus près, les enseignes du magasin sont visibles, "J N Maher Épicièr" et "Pierre Cid Marchand Général". Biographies de Maher et de Cid ci-dessous ! Tadoussac Main Street - Rue Principale Then and Now - Hier et Aujourd'hui 1909 < > 2023 This diagram from 1909 helps to explain the location of the buildings, the Cote's Grocery store is on the land that used to have 2 buildings, Bourgouin & Dumont Ce schéma de 1909 permet d'expliquer l'emplacement des bâtiments, l'Épicerie Côté est sur le terrain qui abritait autrefois 2 bâtiments, Bourgouin & Dumont Maher Cid's Bourgouin Dumont Galouine Manoir Tad Cafe Bleu Bouliane Construit 1900's 1860's 1900's 1880's 1850's 1860's 1860's 1860's Jusq'ua 1970's Now 1923 1923 Maintenant 1970's? Now 1970's? Johnny Maher Johnny Maher, Merchant in Tadoussac Daniel Delisle PhD At the end of the 19th early 20th century, the village of Tadoussac had a few merchants, among others, the oldest according to our research, which was founded around 1864, François Bourgoing's business. There was also that of Alfred Vaillancourt, the store of Pierre Cid and the store of Johnny N. Maher. Johnny Maher, marchand à Tadoussac Daniel Delisle PhD À la fin 19e début 20e siècle, le village de Tadoussac comptait quelques marchands, entre autres, le plus ancien selon nos recherches, qui aurait été fondé vers 1864, le commerce de François Bourgoing. Il y avait aussi celui d’Alfred Vaillancourt, le magasin de Pierre Cid et le magasin de Johnny N. Maher. Alfred Vaillancourt's store was located on rue du bord de l'eau, in the building that currently houses the Micro-brasserie de Tadoussac. The other three businesses were located on Main Street, then Elgin Street, now Rue des Pioneers, close to each other. The current Intermarché-banner Hovington grocery store succeeded the Côté grocery store as well as the business of François Bourgoing and later his son Ernest. The current premises of Café Bohème housed the general store of Pierre Cid and on the land where the Nima store is now located was the Johnny N. Maher store. Joseph (aka Johnny or Johnney) Napoleon Maher Family Johnny Maher, born in 1863 and died in 1939, is the son of Joseph "Jerry" Maher and Clarisse Gagné. On August 10, 1886, Johnny married Évelyne (Marie Auveline) Hovington (1865-), daughter of Édouard Hovington and Flavine Pedneault. The couple gave birth to a son, Édouard Thomas (1891-1980) who in 1918 married Emma Vauthier (1898-1966) daughter of Édouard Vauthier and Annie-Bridget-Ann Sullivan of St-Godefroi de Bonaventure in Gaspésie. Following the death of his wife Évelyne Hovington, Johnny married again in 1898, Laure Boulianne daughter of Joseph Boulianne and Alfeda Levesque. Two children were born of the union, a daughter, Marie-Paule (1904-1997) married to Ernest Lizotte, and a son, Robert (1900-1970) husband of Florette Harvey (1918-1985). Professional activities Johnny Maher is said to have owned a house on Pointe-de-l'Islet. Forced to demolish it due to its expropriation, he erected a new one near the Côté bridge, next to Pierre Cid's future store. At the end of the 1800s, Johnny Maher experienced some financial difficulties, notably bankruptcy in 1891. The height of misfortune, a few years later, in 1902, a fire completely destroyed the house which housed his store. His home was uninsured. Yet as a shrewd trader he knew the high financial risks and the obligation to be careful. Both at the first marriage, following bankruptcy, and at the second, the Maher spouses ensure a union in "separation of property" in order to protect the family patrimony. In the 1911 census, Johnny Maher declared himself of Scottish origin, "merchant" as his main occupation and "fisherman" as a secondary occupation. As for his Scottish origin, according to genealogists, the Maher ancestors are of Irish origin and not Scottish. For her part, Mrs. Gaby Villeneuve claims that he is of Germanic origin. His business is mainly oriented towards dry food and sewing accessories. Depending on the season, it offers its customers fishing products, in particular fresh salmon. When the municipality of the Village of Tadoussac was created, Johnny Maher was appointed alderman of the first municipal council under the leadership of Mayor Eugène Caron. Later, he will sit on the Peace Commission for the district of Tadoussac. The descendants Johnny's eldest son, Thomas Maher, will achieve some fame in the Quebec City region and beyond. After graduating from the classical course at the Séminaire de Chicoutimi in 1913, he continued his studies in agriculture in Chicoutimi and obtained his diploma in 1914. After his training at Laval University, he became a forest engineer in 1917. Subsequently, a professor at the university Laval where he has had a great career. Involved in the Quebec City region, he is recognized as a “great developer” of Lac Saint-Joseph. He will also be associated with the Deschênes de Tadoussac family when the Compagnie de navigation Charlevoix-Saguenay was created in 1918, of which he was vice-president. The company will obtain a government subsidy to provide a link between the Carlevoix region and the North Shore. Thomas married Emma Vauthier on January 3, 1918, the couple had 3 children. He was a professor at the Faculty of Sciences at Laval University from 1933 to 1958 and professor emeritus in 1958. He was vice-president of the Canadian Broadcasting Commission (now the Société Radio-Canada), “he is president of the National Gallery in Ottawa since 1959; president of the Association of Forest Engineers of the Province of Quebec(1928-30 and 1952-54); founder and administrator of the weekly Le Journal (1929-31); President of the Diocesan Council for Oeuvres de Charité du Québec (1950). He is the author of books on Quebec forests "Our forests in decadence", "Pays de Cocagne ou terre de Caën" and of the novel "Fascination ”, as well as numerous newspaper articles and conferences on the theme of the forest. In 1921 he created with his son Robert and a man named Henri Grenier of Quebec, a logging company, Thomas Maher inc. This company was dissolved in 1932. He died in Quebec on March 7, 1980. Robert Maher, Johnny's second son, and his wife Florette Harvey will have two sons, one of whom they will baptize Thomas, with the same first name as his uncle, a second Marc and a daughter Hélène. Thomas became a teacher at École Saint-Joseph de Tadoussac, principal and later principal of the Commission scolaire de Tadoussac. He will also be Commodore of the Tadoussac marina and the xth mayor of the village of Tadoussac and president of the Corporation de développement tourisme de Tadoussac. He will also be a director on the Board of Directors of the Société des traversiers du Québec. Hélène will marry Doctor Claude Bossé and Marc will marry Michèle Plouffe. Johnny's only daughter was Marie-Paule, married to Ernest Lizotte. Involved in the local section of the Red Cross, she was secretary in 1941. After her marriage, she moved to Chicoutimi where she died in 1997. Johnny Maher died in Tadoussac on June 25, 1937 at the age of 74 years and six months. At the ancestral cemetery of Tadoussac we find his burial place on the east side, at the cemetery entrance leading to the old presbytery. On the epitaph, only his children born from his union with Laure Boulianne are listed. No trace of Thomas in Tadoussac cemetery, the remains of the latter and his wife rest in Belmont cemetery in Quebec. Daniel also added an extensive bibliography, if interested please contact me! Le commerce d’Alfred Vaillancourt était situé sur la rue du bord de l’eau, dans l’édifice qui abrite actuellement la Micro-brasserie de Tadoussac. Les trois autres commerces étaient localisés sur la rue principale, la rue Elgin de l’époque, aujourd’hui la Rue des Pionniers, à proximité les uns des autres. L’actuelle épicerie Hovington de bannière Intermarché a succédé à l’épicerie Côté ainsi qu’au commerce de François Bourgoing et plus tard, de son fils Ernest. Le local actuel du Café Bohème abritait le magasin général de Pierre Cid et sur le terrain où se situe aujourd’hui la boutique Nima se trouvait le magasin de Johnny N. Maher. Joseph (dit Johnny ou Johnney) Napoléon Maher La famille Johnny Maher, né en 1863 et décédé en 1939, est le fils de Joseph « Jerry » Maher et de Clarisse Gagné. Le 10 août 1886, Johnny épouse Évelyne (Marie Auveline) Hovington (1865-), fille de Édouard Hovington et de Flavine Pedneault. Le couple donnera naissance à un fils, Édouard Thomas (1891-1980) qui épousa en 1918 Emma Vauthier (1898-1966) fille de Édouard Vauthier et Annie-Bridget-Ann Sullivan de St-Godefroi de Bonaventure en Gaspésie. À la suite du décès de son épouse Évelyne Hovington, Johnny épouse en seconde noce en 1898, Laure Boulianne fille de Joseph Boulianne et de Alfeda Levesque. Deux enfants sont issus de l’union, une fille, Marie-Paule (1904-1997) mariée à Ernest Lizotte, et un fils, Robert (1900-1970) époux de Florette Harvey (1918-1985). Les activités professionnelles Johnny Maher aurait possédé une maison sur la Pointe-de-l’Islet. Contraint de la démolir en raison de son expropriation, il en érige une nouvelle près du pont Côté, voisin du futur magasin de Pierre Cid. À la fin des années 1800, Johnny Maher connait quelques difficultés, financières, notamment une faillite en 1891,. Comble du malheur, quelques années plus tard, en 1902, un incendie détruit complètement la maison qui abrite son magasin. Son habitation était sans assurances. Pourtant, comme commerçant avisé il connaissait les risques financiers élevés et l’obligation à la prudence. Tant au premier mariage, à la suite de la faillite, qu’au second, les époux Maher s’assurent d’une union en « séparation de biens » afin de protéger le patrimoine familial,. Au recensement de 1911, Johnny Maher se déclare d’origine écossaise, « marchand » comme occupation principale et « garde-pêche » comme occupation secondaire. Pour ce qui est de son origine écossaise, selon les spécialistes généalogiques, les ancêtres Maher seraient d’origine irlandaise et non écossaise. Pour sa part madame Gaby Villeneuve prétend qu’il est d’origine germanique. Son commerce est surtout orienté sur les denrées sèches et les accessoires de couture. Selon la saison, il offre à sa clientèle des produits de la pêche, notamment le saumon frais. À la création de la municipalité du Village de Tadoussac Johnny Maher est nommé échevin du premier conseil municipal sous la direction du maire Eugène Caron. Plus tard, il siègera à la Commission de la paix pour le district de Tadoussac. Les descendants Le fils ainé de Johnny, Thomas Maher, connaitra une certaine célébrité dans la région de Québec et au-delà. Après sa graduation au cours classique au Séminaire de Chicoutimi en 1913 il poursuit des études en agriculture à Chicoutimi et obtient son diplôme en 1914. Après sa formation à l’Université Laval il devient ingénieur forestier en 1917. Par la suite professeur à l’université Laval où il connaît une belle carrière. Impliqué dans la région de Québec il est reconnu « grand développeur » du lac Saint-Joseph. Il sera également associé à la famille Deschênes de Tadoussac lors de la création en 1918 de la Compagnie de navigation Charlevoix-Saguenay dont il sera le vice-président. La compagnie obtiendra une subvention du Gouvernement afin d’assurer la liaison entre la région de Carlevoix et la Côte-Nord. Thomas épouse Emma Vauthier le 3 janvier 1918, le couple aura 3 enfants. Il est professeur à la faculté des Sciences de l’Université Laval de 1933 à 1958 et professeur émérite en 1958. Il sera vice-président de la Commission canadienne de la radiodiffusion (devenue la Société Radio-Canada), « il est président de la Galerie Nationale à Ottawa depuis 1959; président de l’Association des Ingénieurs forestiers de la Province de Québec (1928-30 et 1952-54) ; fondateur et administrateur de l’hebdomadaire Le Journal (1929-31); président du Conseil diocésain des Oeuvres de Charité du Québec (1950). Il est auteur des ouvrages sur les forêts québécoises « Nos forêts en décadence », « Pays de Cocagne ou terre de Caën » et du roman « Fascination », ainsi que de nombreux articles de journaux et conférences ayant pour thème la forêt. En 1921 il crée avec son fils Robert et un dénommé Henri Grenier de Québec, une compagnie d’exploitation forestière, Thomas Maher inc.. Cette compagnie sera dissoute en 1932. Il décède à Québec le 7 mars 1980. Le Robert Maher, deuxième fils de Johnny, et son épouse Florette Harvey auront deux fils, dont un qu’ils baptiseront Thomas, du même prénom que son oncle, un second Marc et une fille Hélène. Thomas deviendra enseignant à l’École Saint-Joseph de Tadoussac, directeur d’école et plus tard directeur de la Commission scolaire de Tadoussac. Il sera également Commodore de la marina de Tadoussac et le xième maire du village de Tadoussac et président de la Corporation de développement touristique de Tadoussac. Il sera également administrateur au sein du Conseil d’administration de la Société des traversiers du Québec. Hélène épousera le docteur Claude Bossé et Marc s’unira à Michèle Plouffe. La seule fille de Johnny fut Marie-Paule, mariée à Ernest Lizotte. Impliquée au sein de la section locale de la Croix-Rouge, elle en fut secrétaire en 1941. Après son mariage, elle s’installe à Chicoutimi où elle décède en 1997. Johnny Maher décède à Tadoussac le 25 juin 1937 à l’âge de 74 ans et six mois. Au cimetière ancestral de Tadoussac nous retrouvons sa sépulture du côté est, à l’entrée cimetière menant à l’ancien presbytère. Sur l’épitaphe, seuls ses enfants nés de son union avec Laure Boulianne sont inscrits. Aucune trace de Thomas au cimetière de Tadoussac, les restes de ce dernier ainsi que son épouse reposent au cimetière Belmont à Québec. Pierre Cid Marchand General 1960's Back row on the right, ?, Beth Dewart, Maggie Reilley, Michael Reilley, ?, Marie Cid (who ran the store with her brother Joe and sister Alexandra) Joe, Alexandra, Marie Cid Joe, Alexandra, Marie Cid Coosie Price and his granddaughter Elise Mundell Herve Desrosiers From the Middle East PIERRE CID, GENERAL MERCHANT IN TADOUSSAC Daniel Delisle PhD Most of Tadoussac's elders remember the Pierre Cid general store, located in the center of the village on Rue des Pionniers, in a pretty period house with attics where the Café Bohème is today. Perhaps some will even have known Joseph Cid, the son of Pierre Cid, who took over the business upon the death of his father. Venu du Moyen-Oriant PIERRE CID, MARCHAND GÉNÉRAL À TADOUSSAC Daniel Delisle PhD Les ainés de Tadoussac se rappellent, pour la plupart, le magasin général Pierre Cid, situé au centre du village sur la rue des Pionniers, dans une jolie maison d’époque à mansardes où se trouve aujourd’hui le Café Bohème. Peut-être même quelques-uns auront connu Joseph Cid, le fils de Pierre Cid, qui a pris la relève du commerce au décès de son père. Pierre Cid (1866-1948) in his time was undoubtedly a well-known person in Tadoussac and the surrounding area. Local history first identifies the character at the general store, and a general store means a meeting place for village residents. But there is also his West Asian origin which makes the character even more intriguing. The oral transmission of Tadoussac's history suggests that he was born in Syria in 1866. He arrived on Canadian soil between 1894 and 1897, aged in his early thirties. He was then accompanied by his wife Marie Halissah (1877-1945), often named Alice, Marie-Alice, Marie-Halissa, or Alisse, and two children: Victoria (1892-1949), the eldest, and Geneviève (1893-1974). ). According to Ms. Gaby Villeneuve, the little Cid family settled in the Quebec region upon their arrival in Canada, a brother of Mr. Cid, Michel, would already be recognized there as a merchant. This point is confirmed by data from the 19017 census. Syrian-Lebanese immigration is now well documented. Middle Eastern Immigrant From its presumed country of origin, Syria, it should be noted that at this time, the end of the 19th century, the Middle East was experiencing multiple changes due to the fall of the Ottoman Empire. France is present as a colonizing state and plays an important role in this region of the world, in particular to put an end to the massacre of the Catholic communities of Mount Lebanon. This French presence also explains the French-speaking nature of Lebanon and Syria, among others, for many years and still today. Of course, the borders between Lebanon and Syria have fluctuated during this century and the beginning of the 20th and certain cities or regions thus see themselves under different influences. From the Ottoman period until 1920, Lebanon was part of Syria. According to the death notice published in the newspaper L'Action catholique on Saturday March 20, 1948, Pierre Cid was born in the town of "Massoun in Lebanon (Syria)" in 1866. Could this be the current town of Massoud (Massoudiyeh or Massoudieh) from the Akkar district in northern Lebanon? This city is in fact located very close to the current border of the country, in a mountainous region bordering Syria, where Wikipedia reports a significant exodus of its population across the world, including to Canada. The hypothesis of this origin of Pierre Cid seems interesting. However, at the wedding in Ontario of his eldest daughter Victoria, the bride's father claimed to have been born in Tripoli, Syria. Here again, the only city named Tripoli in this region is currently located in Lebanon. In the suburbs of Tripoli there is a town named Hasnoun Massoud region. However, at the time of his birth, Lebanon and Syria were one and the same country: Syria. “This geographical and historical Syria roughly corresponds to the current territories of Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Israel as well as the occupied Palestinian territories of the West Bank and historic Gaza”, region known as Bilad al -Sham. In any case, Pierre Cid spoke French when he arrived in Canada. Like the majority of Syrian immigrants at the end of the 19th century, he is Catholic. This will facilitate his integration into rural Quebec where he initially worked as a traveling trader between Quebec and the north coast. As previously noted, some suggest that Pierre Cid came to join a brother, Michel, in Canada. We found his trace in the 1901 census data. He was 38 years old and lived in Saint-Romuald, Lévis county, in the company of his brother Pierre, then aged 34, Pierre's wife, Alicia who is 24 years old and three of their children; Geneviève 6 years old, Joseph 3 years old and Antoine 1 year old. Victoria, the eldest, is absent from the census data. The spelling of their last name is incorrect and presented as Seed. A few years ago, during Joseph's baptism on January 2, 1898 in Saint-Romuald-d'Etchemin, his name is indicated in the registers of the parish of Saint-Romuald as godfather of the child. Finally, a funeral notice published on March 20, 1908 announced his death in Saint-Romuald d’Etchemin. Pierre Cid, merchant, father, good practitioner Like many of his Syrian compatriots, trade is a strength and a tradition. In Quebec, they are omnipresent in large urban centers and quickly we find them in the main regions of the province. Good traders, they are associated with the profession of peddler, itinerant seller, to the point where a Quebec expression is associated with them: “the Syrian is coming” to signal the arrival of the traveling merchant. After a few years traveling the Charlevoix and Haute Côte Nord regions as a traveling salesman, offering the population small items such as buttons, pins, threads, scissors, lace, fabrics, stockings, pens, etc.8, he settled in the village of Tadoussac at the beginning of the 1900s. This period corresponds to when his brother Michel died in Saint-Romuald in 1908. His commercial activities in his new host village were initially quite modest, starting from a small local located in the house of Mr. Omer Bouliane, merchant and registrar. After a few years, with business going fairly well, he bought the house from its owner and set up his own general store. It was he who, a few years later, had an extension built at the back of the store to accommodate his family. Pierre Cid quickly became an important and respected personality in the village and in the region. He collaborated on all development projects and his name frequently appeared in the Quebec newspapers of the time, Le Soleil, La Presse, L’Action Catholique and Le Quotidien in particular. We note in particular his numerous trips to Quebec, probably to supply his business. The newspapers also mention his Christian community involvement, either as a member of the Temperance League or as part of the 200th anniversary celebrations of the historic Tadoussac chapel. Over the years the family grew and included a dozen births, four boys and eight girls. Unfortunately, in 1917 he lost a son, Antoine, aged 17. Three other children also died at a young age; two boys, Louis-Joseph at the age of two (1905), Joseph-Paul at three (1915) and a girl, Marie-Juliette during her first year in 1915. There was also a death in 1897, a daughter, during her stay in Saint-Romuald. Some of these burials are engraved on the stele of Pierre Cid at the ancestral cemetery of Tadoussac. During the 1911 census, the children identified in the national register were Victoria, the eldest, who was born in Syria on December 17, 1892, as well as Geneviève on March 16, 1893, who died on June 26, 1974. On January 2, 1897, a girl (anonymous) who died the day before in Saint-Romuald was buried (hence the hypothesis of the arrival of Pierre Cid in the country before 1897). Then followed the children born in Quebec: Joseph, baptized on January 2, 1898 in Saint-Romuald-d'Etchemins, Antoine on December 11, 1900 and died in 1917 (on the epitaph it is indicated 1901 as the date of birth, then that the census specifies that he was born in 1900), Alexandra, June 7, 1904, Joséphine, March 5, 1905, Marie and Antoinette the twins, born April 1, 1910. The children are educated in the Catholic religion as the indications in the newspapers suggest. Indeed, some of the girls were even novices among the nuns, notably Geneviève (Sister Marie-du-St-Esprit) and Antoinette (Sister Alarie-du-good-Pasteur). Joseph also studied at the Sherbrooke Seminary. He obtained good results, particularly in English, a discipline in which he earned a mention in 1918. Witnesses from the time claim that Alexandra and Marie worked with Joseph at the store. Marie apparently suffered from Parkinson's disease. Alexandra's death notice, found in the newspaper Le Soleil on November 7, 1978, announces her death on November 6, 1978 in Quebec at the age of 74. The obituary relates the presence at the funeral of Joseph, Joséphine and Marie. We did not find any other traces of them after this date, other than the mention in the Quebec city directory of Joséphine Cid, annuitant. The Cid descendants Victoria, the eldest, and Antoinette, the youngest, will be the only Cid children to marry. Victoria left Tadoussac around the age of 17, wanting to free herself from overly strict parents, according to local rumors and confirmed by the testimony of her granddaughter Susan Stone. Still according to the latter, she will work as a caregiver within a family of Hungarian origin in Ontario. Victoria married on September 20, 1920, in Toronto, Mr. John Moses Cooley, son of James Cooley of Irish origin and Agnès Clair. During the 1921 census, we found traces of the couple in Niagara Falls. Five children were born from the union: Marie-Agnès, the eldest, was born in Niagara Falls on October 13, 1921. Subsequently, the other four children were born in Toronto: James-Bernard, on December 6, 1923, Margaret-Evelyn on November 24 1924, Clair-Edward May 10, 1927 and John-Leo March 7, 1931. The Cid-Cooley family subsequently grew to include five grandchildren, two boys and three girls, including Susan, who kept us pleasantly informed. Five great-grandchildren were added to the family in subsequent years. During her life in Ontario, Victoria maintained contact with her family in Tadoussac, although infrequently. An article in the Quebec newspaper Le Soleil reports the visit of her brother Joseph to her sick sister in Toronto in 1949. She died that same year at the age of 50. Her grave is located in Saint Michaels Cemetery, Dunnville. Haldimand County, Ontario. For her part, Antoinette Cid, the youngest of the family, after having completed her secondary school studies like her sister Geneviève as novices at the convent of the Antoniennes-de-Marie sisters in Chicoutimi, undertook training in nursing. at the Nursing School of Sainte-Justine Hospital in Montreal. At the end of her studies in May 1940, she began her professional practice in Quebec. His last known address at the time was 6056 rue Saint-Denis in Montreal. In September 1942, at the age of 32, she left the country to settle in New York as a nurse. Having received her training in pediatrics, she will be hired at Misericordia Hospital. It was in the American metropolis that she met David Joseph Barr from Baltimore, widower of the late Mabel Dorothy Tuttle. She married him in October 1954 at Saint-Jean-Baptiste Church in New York. The year before her marriage, a trace of her was found in the American Immigration Service, on a list of passengers from the ship S/S Nassau arriving in New York on April 26, 1953. In July 1978 in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Antoinette died at the age of 68. Having married at the age of 44, she did not have any children, but evidently, at her marriage her husband had a son, Robert W. Barr who gave her two grandchildren. His grave is located in Saint John the Evangelist Cemetery, Hyde, Baltimore County, Maryland. A few years earlier, on March 16, 1948, the funeral of Mr. Pierre Cid, who died at the venerable age of 82 years and 5 months, was celebrated in Tadoussac. Three years earlier, Madame Marie Hallissah Cid died on July 26, 1945 at the age of 68. An epitaph to their memories is inscribed on a tombstone near the stele of Pierre Cid's lot at the Tadoussac cemetery (photo 4). In his will, as a good Christian, Pierre Cid bequeathed to the factory of the parish of Exaltation-de-la-Sainte-Croix, a sum of $1,000 for the repair of the church bell which had been damaged during of the fire of 1946 which left the temple in ruins. When his father died, it was Joseph Cid who continued the family business. Single, he is supported in the store by two of his sisters: Alexandra and Marie, Amtoinette's twin. The Pierre Cid general store permanently ceased operations in 1976. The house was sold to Mr. Guy Bouchard and subsequently to Gai and Gary Brown who have still owned it since 1981. There will therefore be no descendants with the surname of Pierre Cid. However, several Cid-Cooley descendants in Ontario are from Victoria's marriage. Pierre Cid (1866-1948) à son époque est sans contredit une personne bien connue à Tadoussac et dans les environs. L’histoire locale identifie d’abord le personnage au magasin général, et qui dit magasin général dit lieu de rencontre pour les résidents du village. Mais il y a aussi son origine de l’Asie de l’Ouest qui rend le personnage encore plus intriguent. La transmission orale de l’histoire de Tadoussac suggère en effet qu’il serait né en Syrie en 1866. Il arrive en sol canadien entre 1894 et 1897, âgé dans la jeune trentaine. Il est alors accompagné de sa femme Marie Halissah (1877-1945), souvent prénommée Alice, Marie-Alice, Marie-Halissa, ou Alisse et de deux enfants: Victoria (1892-1949), l’ainée et Geneviève (1893-1974). Selon madame Gaby Villeneuve, la petite famille Cid s’installe dans la région de Québec à leur arrivée au Canada, un frère de monsieur Cid, Michel y serait déjà reconnu comme marchand. Ce point est confirmé par les données du recensement de 19017. L’immigration syro-libanaise est aujourd’hui bien documentée. Immigrant du Moyen-Orient De son pays d’origine présumé, la Syrie, il est à noter qu’à cette époque, soit la fin du 19e siècle, le Moyen-Orient connaît de multiples changements en raison de la chute de l’Empire ottoman. La France est présente comme état colonisateur et joue un rôle important dans cette région du monde, notamment pour mettre fin au massacre des communautés catholiques du Mont-Liban. Cette présence française explique d’ailleurs la nature francophone du Liban et de la Syrie entre autres, depuis de nombreuses années et aujourd’hui encore. Bien entendu, les frontières entre le Liban et la Syrie ont fluctué au cours de ce siècle et du début du 20e et certaines villes ou régions se voient ainsi sous différentes influences. De la période ottomane jusqu’en 1920, le Liban fait partie de la Syrie. Selon l’avis de décès paru dans le journal L’Action catholique du samedi 20 mars 1948, Pierre Cid serait né dans la ville de «Massoun au Liban (Syrie)» en 1866. S’agirait-il de l’actuelle ville de Massoud (Massoudiyeh ou Massoudieh) du district de l’Akkar au nord du Liban? Cette ville est en effet située très près de la frontière actuelle du pays, dans une région montagneuse limitrophe de la Syrie dont Wikipédia relate un exode important de sa population à travers le monde, entre autres vers le Canada. L’hypothèse de cette origine de Pierre Cid semble intéressante. Cependant, lors du mariage en Ontario de sa fille ainée Victoria, le père de la mariée prétend être né à Tripoli en Syrie. Ici encore, la seule ville du nom de Tripoli dans cette région est située actuellement au Liban. Dans la banlieue de Tripoli se trouve une ville au nom de Hasnoun région de Massoud. Or, l’époque de sa naissance, Liban et Syrie ne sont qu’un seul et même pays : la Syrie. « Cette Syrie géographique et historique correspond à peu près aux territoires actuels de la Syrie, du Liban, de la Jordanie, d’Israël ainsi qu’aux territoires palestiniens occupés de Cisjordanie et de Gaza historique », région connue sous le nom du Bilad al-Sham. Quoiqu’il en soit, Pierre Cid parle donc français à son arrivée au Canada. Comme la majorité des immigrants syriens de la fin du 19e siècle, il est de religion catholique. Cela facilitera son intégration au Québec rural où il exerce au début, le métier de commerçant itinérant entre Québec et la côte nord. Comme indiqué précédemment, certains suggèrent que Pierre Cid serait venu rejoindre un frère, Michel, au Canada. Nous avons trouvé la trace de celui-ci aux données du recensement de 1901. Il a 38 ans et habite à Saint-Romuald, conté de Lévis, en compagnie de son frère Pierre alors âgé de 34 ans, de l’épouse de Pierre, Alicia qui a 24 ans et de trois de leurs enfants ; Geneviève 6 ans, Joseph 3 ans et Antoine 1 an. Victoria, l’ainée est absente des données de recensement. L’orthographe de leur nom de famille est erronée et présentée comme Seed. Quelques années au paravent, lors du baptême de Joseph le 2 janvier 1898 à Saint-Romuald-d’Etchemin, son nom est indiqué aux registres de la paroisse de Saint-Romuald comme parrain de l’enfant. Enfin, un avis funéraire paru le 20 mars 1908 annonce son décès à Saint-Romuald d’Etchemin. Pierre Cid, marchand, père de famille, bon pratiquant Comme plusieurs de ses compatriotes syriens, le commerce est une force et une tradition. Au Québec, ils sont omniprésents dans les grands centres urbains et rapidement nous les retrouvons dans les principales régions de la province. Bons commerçants, ils sont associés au métier de colporteur, vendeur itinérant, au point où une expression québécoise leur est associée : « le Syrien s’en vient » pour signaler l’arrivée du marchand ambulant. Après quelques années à sillonner les régions de Charlevoix et de la Haute Côte Nord comme vendeur itinérant, offrant à la population de menus articles tels des boutons, épingles, fils, ciseaux, dentelles, tissus, bas, stylos, etc.8, il s’installe dans le village de Tadoussac au début des années 1900. Cette période correspond où son frère Michel décède à Saint-Romuald en 1908. Ses activités commerciales dans son nouveau village d’accueil sont au début assez modestes, à partir d’un petit local situé dans la maison de monsieur Omer Bouliane, marchand et registrateur. Après quelques années, les affaires allant assez bien, il achète la maison de son propriétaire et y installe son propre magasin général. C’est lui qui, quelques années plus tard, fait construire une extension à l’arrière du magasin pour y loger sa famille. Rapidement Pierre Cid devient une personnalité importante et respectée au village et dans la région. Il collabore à tous les projets de développement et son nom revient fréquemment dans les journaux du Québec de l’époque, Le Soleil, La Presse, L’Action catholique et Le Quotidien notamment. On signale notamment ses nombreux voyages à Québec, probablement pour approvisionner son commerce. Les journaux font également mention de son implication communautaire chrétienne, soit comme membre de la Ligue de tempérance ou encore dans le cadre des fêtes du 200e anniversaire de la chapelle historique de Tadoussac. Au cours des années la famille s’agrandie et compte une douzaine de naissances, quatre garçons et huit filles. Malheureusement, en 1917 il perd un fils, Antoine, âgé de 17 ans. Trois autres enfants décèdent aussi en bas âge; deux garçons, Louis-Joseph à l’âge de deux ans (1905), Joseph-Paul à trois ans (1915) et une fille, Marie-Juliette au cours de sa première année en 1915. On compte également un décès en 1897, une fille, lors de son séjour à Saint-Romuald. Certaines de ces sépultures sont gravées sur la stèle de Pierre Cid au cimetière ancestral de Tadoussac. Lors du recensement de 1911, les enfants identifiées au registre national sont Victoria, l’aînée, qui serait née en Syrie le 17 décembre 1892, de même que Geneviève le 16 mars 1893, décédée le 26 juin 1974 . Le deux janvier 1897 est inhumée une fille (anonyme) décédée la veille à Saint-Romuald (d’où l’hypothèse de l’arrivée de Pierre Cid au pays avant 1897). Suivent par la suite les enfants nés au Québec : Joseph, baptisé le 2 janvier 1898 à Saint-Romuald-d’Etchemins, Antoine le 11 décembre 1900 et décédé en 1917 (sur l’épitaphe il est indiqué 1901 comme date de naissance, alors que le recensement précise qu’il est né en 1900), Alexandra, le 7 juin 1904, Joséphine, le 5 mars 1905, Marie et Antoinette les jumelles, nées le premier avril 1910. Les enfants sont éduqués dans la religion catholique comme le laisse présumer les indications dans les journaux. En effet, certaines des filles ont même été novices chez les religieuses, notamment Geneviève (Sœur Marie-du-St-Esprit) et Antoinette (Sœur Alarie-du-bon-Pasteur). Joseph a également fait des études au Séminaire de Sherbrooke. Il obtient de bons résultats, notamment en anglais, une discipline où il se mérite une mention en 1918. Des témoins de l’époque prétendent qu’Alexandra et Marie travaillaient avec Joseph au magasin. Marie souffrait, semble-t-il, de la maladie de Parkinson. L’avis de décès d’Alexandra, retrouvé dans le journal Le Soleil du 7 novembre 1978, annonce son décès le 6 novembre 1978 à Québec à l’âge de 74 ans. La nécrologie relate la présence aux obsèques de Joseph, Joséphine et Marie. Nous n’avons pas trouvé d’autres traces de ces derniers après cette date, sinon la mention à l’annuaire de la ville de Québec de Joséphine Cid, rentière. La descendance Cid Victoria, l’ainée et Antoinette, la cadette, seront les seuls enfants Cid à se marier. Victoria quitte Tadoussac vers l’âge de 17 ans, désireuse de s’émanciper de parents trop stricts, selon les rumeurs locales et confirmées par le témoignage de sa petite-fille Susan Stone. Toujours selon cette dernière, elle travaillera comme aide familiale au sein d’une famille d’origine hongroise en Ontario. Victoria épouse le 20 septembre 1920, à Toronto, monsieur John Moses Cooley, fils de James Cooley d’origine irlandaise et de Agnès Clair. Lors du recensement de 1921, nous retrouvons la trace du couple à Niagara Falls. Cinq enfants naîtront de l’union: Marie-Agnès, l’aînée naît à Niagara Falls le 13 octobre 1921. Par la suite les quatre autres enfants naîtront à Toronto: James-Bernard, le 6 décembre 1923, Margaret-Evelyn le 24 novembre 1924, Clair-Edward 10 mai 1927 et John-Leo le 7 mars 1931. La famille Cid-Cooley s’est par la suite agrandie de cinq petits enfants, deux garçons et trois filles, dont Susan, qui nous a agréablement informé. Cinq arrière-petits-enfants se sont ajoutés à la fratrie au cours des années subséquentes. Au cours de sa vie en Ontario, Victoria garda, bien que peu fréquent, contact avec sa famille de Tadoussac. Un entrefilet dans le journal Le Soleil de Québec, signale la visite de son frère Joseph auprès de sa sœur malade à Toronto en 1949. Elle décède cette même année à l’âge de 50 ans. Sa sépulture est située au Saint Michaels Cemetery, Dunnville. Haldimand County, en Ontario. De son côté, Antoinette Cid, la plus jeune de la famille, après avoir fait ses études de niveau secondaire à l’instar de sa sœur Geneviève comme novices au couvent des sœurs Antoniennes-de-Marie à Chicoutimi, entreprend une formation en soins infirmiers à l’École des gardes-malades de l’hôpital Sainte-Justine de Montréal. À la fin de ses études en mai 1940, elle débute sa pratique professionnelle au Québec. Sa dernière adresse connue à l’époque est le 6056 rue Saint-Denis à Montréal. En septembre 1942, à l’âge de 32 ans elle quitte le pays pour s’installer à New York comme infirmière. Ayant reçu sa formation en pédiatrie, elle sera embauchée au Misericordia Hospital. C’est dans la métropole américaine qu’elle fera la rencontre de David Joseph Barr de Baltimore, veuf de feue Mabel Dorothy Tuttle. Elle l’épouse en octobre 1954 à l’église Saint-Jean-Baptiste de New York. L’année précédent son mariage, une trace d’elle est retrouvée au Service d’immigration américain, sur une liste de passagers du navire S/S Nassau arrivant à New York le 26 avril 1953. En juillet 1978 à Fort Lauderdale en Floride, Antoinette décède à l’âge de 68 ans. S’étant mariée à l’âge de 44 ans, elle n’aura pas eu d’enfant, mais de toute évidence, à son mariage son mari avait un fils, Robert W. Barr qui lui donna deux petits-enfants. Sa sépulture est située au cimetière Saint John the Evangelist, à Hyde, comté de Baltimore au Maryland. Quelques années plus tôt, le 16 mars 1948, sont célébrées à Tadoussac les funérailles de monsieur Pierre Cid, décédé à l’âge vénérable de 82 ans et 5 mois. Trois ans auparavant, Madame Marie Hallissah Cid est décédée, le 26 juillet 1945 à l’âge de 68 ans. Une épitaphe à leurs mémoires est inscrite sur une pierre tombale près de la stèle du lot de Pierre Cid au cimetière de Tadoussac (photo 4). Dans son testament, en bon chrétien, Pierre Cid lègue à la fabrique de la paroisse de l’Exaltation-de-la-Sainte-Croix, une somme de 1000$ pour la réparation de la cloche de l’église qui avait été endommagée lors de l’incendie de 1946 qui laissa le temple en ruine. Au décès de son père, c’est Joseph Cid qui poursuit le commerce familial. Célibataire, il est appuyé au magasin par deux de ses sœurs: Alexandra et Marie, la jumelle d’Amtoinette. Le magasin général Pierre Cid a cessé définitivement ses opérations en 1976. La maison fut vendue à monsieur Guy Bouchard et par la suite à Gai et Gary Brown qui en sont toujours propriétaires depuis 1981. Il n’y aura donc aucun descendant au patronyme de Pierre Cid. Cependant, plusieurs descendants Cid-Cooley en Ontario sont issus du mariage de Victoria. Bourgouin Cid addition Under Construction MAHER CID'S Bourgouin & Dumont Both these buildings burned in July 1923, and were replaced by the Cote Grocery store. Ces deux bâtiments brûlèrent en juillet 1923 et furent remplacés par l'épicerie Côté. Maher Cid's Bourgouin Dumont Galouine Construit 1900's 1860's 1900's 1880's 1850's Jusq'ua 1970's Now 1923 1923 Maintenant In the town plan it is clear that the Bourgouin and Dumont buildings were close together, and thus were destroyed at the same time, whereas the Cid building and the Galouine on either side were saved. Dans le plan de la ville, il est clair que les bâtiments Bourgouin et Dumont étaient proches l'un de l'autre et furent donc détruits en même temps, tandis que le bâtiment Cid et la Galouine de part et d'autre ont été sauvés. Cote's Raymond Cote La Galouine Cafe Blue? Hotel Boulianne Jeanne Olsen The hotel BOULIANNE was owned by my aunt and my uncle EDGAR OLSEN I worked there at 12 years old and I left to get married Jeanne Olsen l'hotel BOULIANNE cela apartenai a mon oncle et ma tante EDGAR OLSEN j'ai travaillé la a 12 ans et je suis partit pour me marié Chez Mme Ida Villeneuve 1960's 77

Lark Reef, Lightships, La Toupie, near Tadoussac, Saguenay River Lark Reef, La Toupie Prince Shoal, Haut-Fond Prince The lighthouse buildings on Lark Reef in 1891 Les bâtiments de phare sur Lark Reef en 1891 From Annual Report Marine and Fisheries 1878 Circa 1950 We visited the reef several times around 1960, it was fun to see the nests and baby seagulls, the same colour as the rocks. Alan Evans with the feather. Nous avons visité le récif plusieurs fois autour de 1960, il était amusant de voir les nids et les baby mouettes, la même couleur que les roches. Alan Evans avec la plume. TROUVER LE MOUETTE SUR LA PHOTO FIND THE SEAGULL IN THE PHOTO Doris Molson and Misty In 1860, H.M.S. Hero, on which the Prince of Wales traveled to Montreal, ran onto a shoal off Tadoussac. The shoal was named “Prince Shoal” (“Haut Fond Prince”). En 1860, H.M.S. Hero, sur lequel le Prince of Wales s'est rendu à Montréal, couru sur un haut-fond au large de Tadoussac. Le banc a été nommé "Prince Shoal" ("Haut Fond Prince"). The Prince Shoal Light was a Light Ship from 1905 until 1964 when the current lighthouse was built. Check out this link: http://www.lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?ID=1626 It includes a description of the construction of the lighthouse, and the story of the storm in 1966 which damaged the structure and scared the men on board. Le Lumière Haut-Fond Prince était un bateau avec une lumière de 1905 à 1964 lorsque le phare a été construit. Consultez ce lien: http://www.lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?ID=1626 Il comprend une description de la construction du phare, et l'histoire de la tempête en 1966 qui a endommagé la structure et a effrayé les hommes à bord. Prince Shoal La Toupie 1962 It is much bigger UNDER the water! >>> C'est beaucoup plus gros SOUS l'eau ! >>> La Toupie is on the same side of the channel as the green buoys and in line with them, guarding the reef. The photo below is interesting, the current is going UP the Saguenay, it's the rising tide. Lark Reef can be seen in the background, with a small beacon. La Toupie est sur le même côté de la voie que les bouées vertes et en ligne avec eux, gardant le récif. La photo ci-dessous est intéressant, le courant est à la hausse au Saguenay, c'est la marée montante. On peut voir le récif Lark en arrière-plan, avec une petite balise. Tower on Point Noir, opposite Tadoussac Tour sur la Pointe Noire, face à Tadoussac 35