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  • Table of Contents

    • Part 1: First Nations of the Peace River Region
    • Part 2: The Fur Trade Era
    • Part 3: Transportation and Communication
    • Part 4: Old Timers and the Price of Land
    • Part 5: Dawson Creek: The Story of the Community
    • Part 6: Mysteries, Adventures and Indian Legends
    • Part 7: Arts, Crafts and Recreation
    • Part 8: Agriculture
    • Part 9: Church Histories
    • Part 10: Schools
    • Part 11: Health Care
    • Part 12: Industries and Enterprises
    • Part 13: Policing the Peace
    • Part 14: Pouce Coupe, Rolla, and Other South Peace Communities
    • Part 15: Chetwynd and the Fort St. John Area
    • Part 16: The Alberta Peace
    • Part 17: Natural History of the Peace River Region
    • Part 18: Interviews with Old Timers
    • Part 19: Remembering Our Veterans

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04-026: Lionel Marion’s Story of his Family’s Trip to Pouce Coupe

[written in 1976]
  After we had been well entertained by all the uncles and aunts of the family, time had come for us to leave St. Anicet (Quebec) and to head for the “Far-West” and the Peace River Country. We were all ready and up bright and early in March of 1917. We were to go to a small station and take the train to Montreal and then to go by C.P.R. to Edmonton, Alberta. The small station was either called “Car” or “White” (I am not sure) not too far from Huntingdon, Quebec. It was early in the morning and still dark when we left by sled from our Uncle Zenophile’s house. My mother (Celina) was now saying good-bye to her only sister (Delvina) and there was considerable crying on both sides, as they knew that this might be a final parting. And so it turned out to be.

We got on the train and finally arrived at Montreal. When it came time to entrain for the Far West, my sister Gertie was missing. In Montreal we had stayed at one of our uncles and my cousin had come to the train with us. My mother mentioned that she thought that she could hear a dog howling and turning around asked, “Where’s Gertie?” She had somehow become separated and the train was about to go. Everyone started to look for her and finally my cousin from Montreal found her. A middle-aged man holding Gertie by the hand was trying to find on which train she belonged. On seeing my cousin he told her, “You’re a fine lady”, and turned Gertie over to her. Gertie had been found just in time as the train soon left for the West.

THE TRIP ON THE TRAIN
 
Finally we got on the train and traveled for nearly a week. The waiters and porters and the rest of the train crew were very nice to us kids. They all spoke English but we couldn’t understand a word of it. Finally we arrived at Edmonton. We stayed at the Immigration Hall for a while before taking the E.D. and B.C. Railway (now the N.A.R.) to Spirit River. On the train we met Mr. Eusebe Groudin who was coming in from “outside” to his homestead at East Pouce, B.C. Were we glad to see him as he could speak French.

When we got to Spirit River we had to use the Spirit River Trail. A Mr. O. Hudson took us to Tremblay’s stopping place, situated north of the village of Pouce Coupe today. At one of the stopping-places on the trail (MacLean’s) we met Reverend Kerr and his wife. Mrs. Kerr was a nurse in the early days of the Dawson Creek area. When bedtime came we had to sleep in the bunkhouse. Our bed was a few feet away from the ground and made out of poles. When we went to bed Reverend Kerr came to tuck us in. The outside covering on the bed was a horsehide. Finally after traveling about 3 days we arrived at Tremblays. Mrs. Tremblay greeted us in French and said to the Oblate priest who was there (he also was French-speaking) “Tiens, la voilà votre famille de Canadiens” (Here is your French-Canadian family from Québec.) The Oblate priest’s name was Father Croisé. He was from France. He smoked “roll-your-own” cigarettes and read “westerns”. He had a long bushy beard and wore a large cross on his cassock. The Tremblay house was made of small poplar poles or logs with an adjoining bunkhouse where the older boys slept. The boys were Israel, Hector, Bob and Rodolphe. The two girls, Lydia and Lilla, were younger. They all could speak French. We had dinner and in the afternoon Mr. Orrie Hudson took us to my uncle Oscar’s place situated 1-1/2 miles north and 1 mile east of the present city of Dawson Creek. When we got to the door he looked up and said, “B’en, je ne vous attendais pas avant Vendredi. Je voulais faire un “Pate-en-pate.” This was Wednesday afternoon, the week before Palm Sunday of 1917. To translate the previous French phrase – “Well, I didn’t expect you before Friday. I wanted to make beef and dumplings.” He had a fine quarter of beef lying in the snow near the shack. My father did not come till the following Friday. He and Israel drove up. Dad had brought a cook-stove with him. We had finally arrived in the Far West and we are here still in 1976.

GETTING SETTLED
  When night came we had to find a place to sleep. Uncle Oscar had a shack a bit south on the quarter close to Mr. Carl Barrett’s place. He went there and got a large homemade bed. He went to sleep in the larger shack for that night and the following days of 1917 till autumn came. We, my brother Elphège and I, also slept with him there. It was a “pole bed”.
PALM SUNDAY, 1917
The following Sunday after we arrived was Palm Sunday. Being good Catholics we had to go to church even though it was 5-1/2 miles away. There was still lots of snow on the ground and we cut across country in the southeasterly direction till we reached the Mission church just up the hill from Tremblay’s. There was a good crowd and the church was full. Practically all of them spoke French. Some of the early parishioners were the Tremblay boys, Paul Gauthier, Gros-Ingert, the Hérbert’s (2), E. Groudin, the DeWetters, etc. There is no more church there but the old cemetery is still intact. I believe that Mr. J. DeWetter bought the church (log) and moved it to his homestead, a short distance north of Pouce Coupe. We had church services there till about 1930. The first priest was Fr. Autain. He went to France when World War I was fought. Then came Fr. Croisé, Fr. Dréan, Fr. Vermette, and Fr. Laviollette. The church was built, I think, in 1915. The Dawson Creek parish still owns the cemetery there. It is in a dilapidated condition, unfortunately. Some of the early pioneers are buried there. These are Mrs. DeWetter, my dad, A.O. Marion, Mr. Labelle, Mr. Ricard, Mr. Mathurin, Mr. Ethier, Mr. Harthun, Mr. Malouin, etc. Some of them lie in unmarked graves. I hope someday that this pioneer cemetery will be fenced and kept up. Historically speaking, it is important that it be so. The Pouce Coupe Historical Society seems to be interested in the project. I hope that something comes of it. The cemetery was donated to the church by Mr. Chaput, an early settler in the area. It is 10 acres in size.

POUCE COUPE IN 1917
In 1917 Pouce Coupe consisted of a small bank (The Bank of Commerce), Mr. Haskin’s store, Mr. Bob Baxter’s livery barn and restaurant, and the Post Office. There was also a Government Office. Mr. Fraser was the agent. There was a doctor, Dr. A Watson, an early pioneer.

There were no roads in the early days. One struck across country to get to “Pouce”. Bridges were all made of poles. When it rained roads were very muddy. One tried to keep to the open spaces as the ruts in the roads dried up quickly there after a rain.

SPORTS AT TREMBLAY’S – 1918
About once a year the homesteaders would get together and have a bit of fun. Some of them came from quite a distance and would renew acquaintances after they had not seen each other for months. This happened at Tremblays in July 1918. During the day there was horse-bucking and wild cow milking and many foot races for grown-ups and kids. There was also some boxing and wrestling. At night they had a dance in the loft of the new barn that had just been built. They also sold ice cream, candies, and meals in the unfinished new house close by. All the Metis were there in full force, also. A good crowd of white people also.

BUFFALO TRAILS
 
In 1917 my brother and I noticed deep trails in the woods north of our place. My father told us that they were old buffalo trails. These trails were about a foot deep and 10 inches wide. They were still visible in the spring of 1917.

 

Addendum by Dorthea Calverley

The Rolla-Pouce Coupe-Dawson Creek area was known as the Buffalo Plains, the present Dawson Creek area being also known as the Beaver Plains. The exceptionally good grass and peavine made excellent winter forage. How long the buffalo survived here in numbers after the disastrous kill-off in the 1830’s is not known, and Dr. Dawson makes no note of them in his journal in the 1880’s. Tradition says that the Indians wintered their horses here after the buffalo were gone. Their pack trails would likely follow the routes from pasture to pasture that the buffalo had found easiest. Other game tends to follow set trails also. Thus the old buffalo trails might have been reinforced and deepened.

Once a trail is made, it tends to resist the growth of vegetation in the packed earth. The writer well remembers the ancient trails on the prairies, in groups of three or more, decades after the buffalo were gone. They could be distinguished from wagon trails because the ruts were not a uniform distance apart as wheels run. Before these grassless foot-deep paths were ploughed up, one such group enabled the writer’s family to realize that they were driving in a circle while lost in a prairie blizzard. The recurring “Bump-bump”, of the sleigh runners identified the direction at that point, for they were known to run in an east-west course. Turning the horses to travel with the tracks and remembering that the wind was usually from the west in such storms enabled the lost travelers to find their buildings.

This is just a comment on the permanence of buffalo trails. Cattle make similar trails in the pastures.

 

Footnote

The Marions had come the country to stay, to make a home and build an estate. Their farm buildings still stand square and true, on the original homestead — a fine example of skilled pioneer log building, often “snapped” by tourists. The family would like to give the site and the buildings as an “historic site”, but at the end of 1976 no organization has been willing to keep them up. It is a pity if they should be left to go to ruin.

D. Calverley

 

[Editor’s note, 1998] The Marion barn and house were moved from the homestead to the Walter Wright Pioneer Village in 1992. The house has been restored and is in excellent condition but the main logs in the barn are probably beyond repair.

« 04-025: An Eleven Day Trip Down the Peace – The Marion Brothers

04-027: Iver Madsen – Country Postmaster, 1950-1975 »

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