Narrative by Naz

First, I'd like to tell you a little something about what I've gathered here about mother (Hermine Lemlin) before we get onto father's history. Mother was born in Little Canada, just right across the road from the cemetery. They were getting up a little history of New Canada awhile back, oh, this is back in 1951, and Joe and Libby asked me to see what records I could dig up, and I wrote them this letter, and I think the best way to tell you what I found is by reading this. It wasn't very much. It said...

.....After you called me the other day, I talked with Frank Donae, and also wrote to Mary, Mary was his sister. Frank Donae, of course, was first cousin...he was mothers' sister's son. This morning I received a letter from Mary, but it did not contain too much information. From the information available, grandpa's name, this is mother's father, now, was Pierre Lemlin. Frank Donae says that the name was correctly spelled Lanelin. He and his family came from someplace in the province of Quebec in 1855 and settled in Little Canada across from the present cemetery at the junction of East and West road which led north-easterly from about the east corner of the cemetery. Grandfather (Lemlin) was a custom shoemaker by trade. His wife's (maiden) name was Marie Lafavre, who was born in 1816 and died in 1887 (?) at the age of 71 (?). Grandfather Lemlin was born in 1819 and died in 1895, at the age of 76. These dates are as well as can be remembered. Not too well corroborated, I guess. Grandfather (Lemlin) lived with us for awhile, I remember him, the old chin-whiskered old gentleman, but I never remember mother's mother.

Now, there were eight children in the Lemlin family. Harriet, or Henrietta, who was the oldest, and who married Benjamin Jarvis (?), and he lived around Little Canada there and then finally moved to Two Harbors, and the reason was a family of those jarvis's (?) up there, too, you remember, Mary (Coursolle), even though you were a little girl, and Adaline, who married Candid Demars, and that's the one who had 24 children, 19 of them who grew to adulthood. And Josephine, who married Charles Rondo, and then Osaline (?) who married Nazarre Pariseau, who was my Godfather, and after whom I was named, you know, and Alvida who married Serio Donae, that's Frank Donae that I speak of, they called him Donus (?), I guess, and then this Serio Donae, the father, died, and Alvida later married Ezdas Morrisette who was sort of a shirttail brother, I guess, of Dad. That is, they weren't brothers but they were raised together. So then mother's sister, there, married, a second marriage, married Ezdas Morrisette [some comments here about the same family as father]. Now, Uncle Louie, then, went west, and went by the name Hanlin, and there's a change of name again, Hanlin, and Rubsby (?). By the way, quite a few of those people up there still. And there was Hermine, who was my mother, and she was the baby. And that's about all I have on her side of the family. The Frescos (?) all those sisters had big families like aunt Adaline, who had 24 and (?).

Again, Joan and Guy were after me for quite awhile to see if I could write down something about these names, they are all foreign to them, of course, who the cousins were, and all that, so I wrote them a letter 'way back. Not way back, 1967...that's only 4 years ago, and I said you have often asked me to prepare for you a history of our family, so that you may be able to recognize some of your close relatives, when occasion arises. This dissertation is in response to those requests. The attached excerpts from the geneologic tree of Ferdinand Coursolle, he's the fellow from Montreal, Canada, gives the source of the origin of the Coursolle name in Canada and the United States, and I'll tell you more about that later on. Just how the name has been brought to Mendota has never been ascertained, despite many efforts to trace the name from Canada to Minnesota.

Father's fathers name was Joseph Coursolle [Joe Gaboo]. Apparently, he was born of a home established by a voyager or fur trader named Coursolle, at or near Mendota, this being surmise only. Now, I've never been able to trace a Coursolle coming from anywhere in Mendota until Grandfather, Joseph Coursolle [Gaboo] was born. Now, it was the custom, you know, in those old days, those fur trading days, for these fur traders who were established in one place, to establish a family with an Indian woman, you see, and they lived with an Indian woman, and some of them, when they went back, some of them, I guess, stayed here, some of them went back and took their wives and families with them, some of them left here and went back home. Now, what happened here, I don't know. I've never been able to find out just exactly what happened.

But (?)father, then, of course, was born out of wedlock, which, I guess, was quite the custom in those days. Father was born out of wedlock. He and a girl named Garceau, Margaret Garceau, both worked in the Sibley house, the Sibley home. The big Sibley house, out in Mendota now, and {I understand} that in a very vague way that he was a blacksmith, {at that time he learned} the blacksmith trade, and she was the house maid, I suppose. Well, they fell in love, apparently, and the first thing you know, why, they should have been married, but her people objected, of course, because Grandfather, of course, was half Indian,(this Coursolle (Pierre's brother), and his brother, was with Indian women), but as I say, that's all surmise.

Now, the Garceau family objected to the marriage, so she went home, and father was born out there on the Garceau farm, out there near lake Vadnais. If any of you know where that is, the old house is still there. Well, I say the old house, the old location, but its been remodeled and I suppose rebuilt in part. But, that's where your Grandfather was born. At that time, by the way, and incidentally, every territory, all the territory east of the Mississippi River, was Wisconsin, and everything west was Iowa. Our father was born on January 25, 1849, and on April 1, 1849 Minnesota was organized as a territory. When father was born, about three months before the organization of the territory, that was Wisconsin. So, father was born in Wisconsin, up here in Little Canada. At that time, there were 5000 people in the whole territory. That's going back quite a ways.

Margaret Garceau came from a large French Canadian family in Little Canada. She subsequently married Joseph Morrisette, a widower with two sons, Joseph and Esdas, and I remember old Grandfather Morrisette, we used to call him Grandfather, of course, very well. He was a stubby little fellow, and all I remember about him was he was always sitting down and smoking a clay pipe. Fat...I guess he never did a days work there, I guess I knew him when he was old enough so, whenever I was around, he just sat there with his clay pipe, and the girls were doing all the work, and incidentally, well, maybe I'm getting into my story a little bit, the Coursolle end of it, but now when grandfather Coursolle, Joseph Coursolle, had a son, another son about the time that father was born, I guess, I don't know if it were a little before or a little after, by an Indian woman. So, see, grandfather being half Indian, so this Joseph Coursolle (jr??) 2nd or 3rd, was three quarters Indian. And he always lived among the Indians. And his family, now are up here at Morton, up here on the Minnesota River, up here near Montevideo, up there somewhere. There are some Coursolle's up there. I remember Ernie Coursolle being arrested for something or other, he was going to sue somebody or something, I don't remember what. Well, that's all I ever heard of that family. {An aside here. That particular family consists of a father and son both named Ernest R. Coursolle and a wife/mother named Carol. These folks are apparently a part of the Mendawakitan Tribe in Shakopee. The elder Ernest R. Coursolle died a few years back, probably around 1994 or so. I believe the wife to have passed on also. The younger Ernest R. Coursolle is apparently still around.ewc.}

Then Grandfather Coursolle (Joseph Sr.) married a Scottish woman, a little Scottish woman, and I remember seeing her. I remember father took me to Mendota one time when I was about 10 years old. And I remember meeting her, I guess grandfather was dead by that time, but she was a Scottish woman, very neat appearing. I remember she had perfectly white hair at that time (more description???), very much liked, I guess, of course, by the community, and everything, and they had ten daughters. And then grandma Garceau (Margaret), married to Morrisette, they had ten daughters. So father had 20 half sisters. No full brothers or sisters, but he had twenty half sisters, and of course he had this half brother, this Joseph Coursolle, this Indian, but never heard very much of him. But that was the only brother he had, was the one half brother, whom (he never ever saw), well I think he came to our house one time {something about this house in Little Canada}, but never heard of him after that. [Was it ever established what type if Indian was grandfather?] Oh, yes, sure. Sioux, he's Sioux. [Eastern Sioux or Western Sioux?] Of just what band, that is Sisseton, (names others), I don't know...(most places I've found) was Sisseton, Sisseton band, I think, is where the tribe went to, that clan.

And now, let me see, Garceau, Margaret Garceau subsequently married Joseph Morrisette, who had these two sons Joseph and Esdras. Now, Joseph, I don't remember ever seeing this Joseph, I don't know what became of him at all. I guess he lived, well, somewhere. But this Esdras is the one who married Aunt Alvida, our mother's sister, you see, and they had one son. That son is still living up there in Little Canada. This Morrisette boy, Vern, I think they called him Vern, we always called him boy, he's still around.[You know, when we lived up on Dupont, there was a Joe Morrisette that was a barber.] Well, that's not an uncommon name, I don't think it was the same clan. It's not an uncommon name. (The family) would only be from Joseph, and you find that name everywhere, it's not an unusual name. Now, father was raised, of course, in the Garceau family, mom being in the Morrisette family of course and he was always a member of the family. There was never any distinction between him and the others, just all (family) as far as I can see, of course I wasn't there when he was being raised, but I mean in later years it seems that everybody was happy, no different from any of the younger people. [He never took their name, though.] No, I only remember once when uncle Onesium Auger (???) nobody knew him, I guess, you knew him, Mary? Well, I remember him referring to father (then) as (??) Morrisette, but that's the only reference I've ever heard of his being called a Morrisette. I don't know, maybe some people called him Morrisette, some people called him Coursolle. But I think he always, in any papers (?) it was always Coursolle. On some land out there it was always Coursolle I guess.

Well, let me see. Grandfather Coursolle left these many many daughters. I've (heard of) about 5 of them now, I think. Now, Mary Eculair (?), and I remember her, when we went (?), and her husband was a policeman in Mendota. Now (one of the two), two of those boys went to Flandreau with us, I didn't know them very well, the two Eculair boys. Then Cecilia (Coursolle) Auger, a daughter, married a fellow named Auger. She was a beautiful girl. I remember her coming to the farm...she was a pretty woman, beautiful woman. I don't know, I guess there are still some of those kids around St. Paul and Mendota, and those Euclairs, too, they are still around St. Paul, West St. Paul, around in that area. And then there was a Campbell, I don't know what his first name was.

Now, a good many of these people, in part, on reservations, semi-reservation, like the one where I was brought up in Nebraska, right across the river, the Missouri River, I guess, from South Dakota and I've heard them speak of (?). But this Campbell, all of these husbands were white people, except Felix. Campbell was a white man, and I don't know how they got in, but there were a couple of those kids in school with us, their complexion was about like mine, just (?). There was a Shephard, also, and he...There was Shephard just the other day, or in the last two months, anyway there is a Mary Felix who lives here still who is an old lady now, and she said that her cousin went out to Billings, Montana, to marry her cousin, I forget, her name was Shephard, anyway, who had married and who lived on quite a large ranch out in Billings. So, these Shephards are around, too, somewhere, I don't know.

And then Felix...the Felix family I knew better than any of the others, there's quite a family of them. Now, he was part Indian, Denny (?) Felix, and he was a Civil War Veteran, very nice guy. He lived near Prior Lake. Now, Pete Felix, Frank Felix and Joseph Felix, those three anyway, were (??) when I was there, and of course, I got to know them very, very well. Frank was a blond fellow, quite small, almost a (?), who had great ambitions to became a baseball catcher. He played baseball. Peter never married. This Felix family was up in North Minneapolis, not very far from where you (?) lived. And he died about 4 or 5 years ago. Now, I suppose his family is still up there. I never see them, anyway. [Well, wasn't one of these people named Coursolle, his first name?] Well, that's the Joseph who lived up there in Champlin. Yes, there was one named Coursolle Felix. That's the guy...how'd you ever hear of him? [Well, I can remember that pretty easily]...well, how did you ever hear of him at all? [I think I heard if from some people up in Champlin]. Well, that was Joseph Felix who lived up in Champlin (they pronounced it "Coo-saal", though). Yes, they pronounced Coo-saal, yes. And Joseph Felix married a Mary Pew(?) from Wabasha. And Peter Felix, Petey, of course, never married and he used to come by the office once in a few months just to talk awhile. (???) Well, they used to call him Windy Pete because he talked so doggone much all the time.

Now, Mary Felix is still living and she was the head nurse at St. John's Hospital in St. Paul. She was the head nurse out there for quite a long time, and she married very late in life, I don't know, she must have been 55 or 60 years old, I guess. She married a widowed railroad conductor named Searle. She is still living. I talk to her once in a while on the telephone. Anyway, she's very slow talking, but he's dead now so she's a widow and feels very sorry for herself...she's a very nice person.

And then, let me see. The Morrisettes. Now, those are the Coursolle girls. Now the Morrisette girls that I know anything about...[were they Coursolle girls or Morrisette girls?]...Oh, these are Morrisette girls. The Coursolle girls are the ones that I was just talking about. Those are all Coursolles. The ones I have been talking about. [Whose children were they? Whose the father of those ten Coursolle girls?] Joseph Coursolle! Father's father (Gaboo). Those were all sisters of father. [He married a Scottish woman...those were her children you were talking about?] Yes. All these daughters I have been talking about were the daughters of the Scottish woman and Joseph Coursolle. So they are all one quarter Indian.

Now, the Morrisette gang now, of course, claimed no Indian, but I think there is enough Indian mixed up in all these Canadians, so that if they knew, or fessed up, they would all be in the same boat, anyway. So his boys, Morrisette gang, now, Nathois Auger, now that's Onasins Augers wife, and they lived right there on County Road E, 61, that goes to Duluth, right there Hiro homesteaded right there where the Summit farm is now and they lived just across the track, about a quarter of a mile from that. Well, that's Balaff Auger. And I think one of the boys, at least, is still living. Had two daughters, and one daughter, by the way, ran away with a soldier and got married. They had a heck of a time {about} her, I remember, and incidentally, now, I remember this beautiful Ella. Beautiful girl, about my age, and she showed up missing one day, and boy! the St. Paul newspapers with the big headlines, the loop and so forth. They offered...oh, uncle (???) wasn't a pauper at all. He offered quite a good reward, I forget what it was, a thousand dollars, whatever it was, but she finally showed up and she had run away with a soldier from Fort Snelling, and they married and lived in the Philippines, and I saw her after they came back from (there) not long before she died. She died, not too old, but that was quite a thing at the time.

Now then, Betty Flandrake. They lived on the north shore of Lake Vadnais. You know where Lake Vadnais is? He was a deputy County Sheriff and supposedly quite a guy. Well, he went to the Alaska gold rush...Yukon...and nobody ever heard of him again, until many years later and they found that he was living with another woman someplace. He had married somebody else, so that's the last of him. But the family grew up and I knew those children fairly well, they were about my age, I knew them fairly well.

Now, this is George King, George Roi, their original name was Roi, and they went later by the name of King. You knew some of those, didn't you , Mary? The Kings of White Bear? Teen does, I guess, knows some of them. They had several girls, and he's been dead a long time. I guess she died not so long ago. One of them was a telephone operator in White Bear, one of the girls, and she was a great (chat) she used to call up every once in a while to chat away. Then there was Helen Averal. Now she's Clarence Grandlings mother-in-law. Have any of you ever heard of David or Clarence Grandling? Northwestern Marble Tile Company, used to be on Lake Street, I guess, it dissolved a few years ago. [I've heard of the name, yes, but I paid no attentions to it.] Well, Helen Averal, her claim for distinction I think was that her father, Mr. Averal, {his sister}, was the wife of Clark, who ran the Clark factory out in White Bear. The ironing board factory and all that. She was kind of like this {gestures "nitzy"} because his sister had the {factory} of some kind.

Then there's old Edna Schmidt. She married very very early. She married an old bachelor and she was the smart one of the family, she was sharp, she was sharp as a tack. She went to St. Olga's home in Little Falls and she died there. And Mattie Morrisette, she was a little bit not quite there, ever. Well, you know, she got along alright, but she went to St. Olga's home later on. She died there, also. Then there was Aunt Tilly Morrisette who was a nun. We saw her a number of times up there at Little Falls. She died, we went to her funeral, about two years ago at Little Falls.

All of the Morrisettes of both families had sizable families. I cannot begin to give you the names of the many many dependants or their whereabouts. I never heard anything about grandpa Morrisette, about his ancestry or his antecedents. Nor have I heard of what became of son Joseph. Esdas married mother's sister, as I told you. Mother's father name was Pierre Lemlin, I think I told you that already.

Now, our particular family, speaking now of your dad's family, the brothers and sisters were like this. Henri [your dad would be their grandfather...] yes, sure. This is your grandfathers family. Henri (jr) died in the early '30s, when he was in his early 30's, and he never married. He was killed when a tree fell on him in a lumber camp run by Plumberbowl. They are related to you, aren't they, the Plumberbowls, some way? Well, he ran the lumber camp up there, and they were, oh, it is hot up there in northern Minnesota, anyway, he worked up there and a tree fell on him and he was killed. [How old was he?] He was 30, I think. I saw that someplace else in these papers, today. Now, Edmund, who was the second son, died at the age of fourteen. So, I don't remember him. Seems I remember seeing him once. Then Mary, who was the next oldest, of course she married a Vincent, you know, Paul Vincent, and there are a lot of those Vincents around somewhere. Some of them in Ohio, they come here to visit. There is a priest there who went to the first mass of one of the priests, you know, of the grandson of Mary {Naz's son, Deserres son}. Yes, Guy and I went to his first mass down in Ohio, someplace. Well, that's Mary. She's buried in Two Harbors. Albert, married to Maude Tiernan, and they came from Albertville, up here in Minnesota. He died in 1939 at the age of 61. He's buried in St. Mary's Cemetery.

The other five children, you probably know them as Ralph and Louis, Deed and Owen (Bud) and Dorothy. The oldest one is married to a dentist in White Plains, New York, and then Margaret, married to a man named Hanan, down there in Prior Lake. I believe he's an automobile dealer of some kind [yes]. Now, all these people, of course, they would be your first cousins. Now, Clara, sister Clara, married a fellow named Dubay. That leaves us Virginia. She died at 30 also. And Dorothy died at 30 [she died in childbirth]. Yes, she died in childbirth. She's buried up in Virginia. Teen and I went there, I guess about two years ago. [Mary says she was about 38 or 39]. Who? Carol (?) was? She was, huh? Well, these figures are not at all reliable but they are approximate. I thought she was 38, I don't know where I got this 30 business. [How old was Aunt Mary when she died?] 76. I think I have that one all right. [What year was that, how long ago?]. Oh, I don't know...Mary was 15 years older then Joan...let's see, Joan would have been 26 then, and she's {54} so that's about 29 years ago [not that long ago, no]. Well, alright, have it your way. Well, Teen and I went to Virginia to visit Clara's grave. By the way, I had never been up there, I saw where she was buried, nice little stone, very neat, very nice cemetery. Very pleased with that. [Did Clara's husband remarry?]. Dubay? I don't know. He disappeared and I never heard from him again. I don't know if he is up there in Virginia or whether...you see, I was away from home so much...(?) I wasn't in touch with him.

Now, Dolord, I've got him again at 30. [He never was 30]. Well, again. I don't know. Well, he married Yvonne Pellago, of course, and he had this little son that died in infancy, a year old or so, and {he's buried} in Two Harbors and, by the way, I've been up to that grave a number of times, whenever I go up there I usually stop by. [What did he die from, what was the cause?]. Tuberculosis. He was the TB one. [He was the only one, though]. [And then Eva married a Buckley after that]. A Buckley, and we have visited them a number of times. They live in Miami. We get Christmas cards and so on from them. Well, we visited Buckley three of four times down in Miami. Then Victor died at 41, I have that correct, haven't I? Then Joe, of course, married Elizabeth Miranda, she was a Jarvis(?), really. Her mother married Miranda, but she was a Jarvis. Her father died and her mother married a fellow named Miranda. And she's always gone by the name Miranda. [What year did Victor die?]. Which one? [Their father}. That's the year Joan was born. 1926. [Yes, that's right. That's the same year Binny was born]. Sure. Your father died, in fact, before he {Binny} was born, by several months. [When did Uncle Joe die?]. Joe died at 65...let's see, he was two years younger...he'd be 82 now...seventeen years ago, that would be 1954, I hope.

Now let's see. Joe's kids were, let me see, his brother is in Little Canada, of course, and Evelyn Lasong(?), she married Lasong(?) who had a second cousin or something, and he died, and she's remarried now, to a young man, I have his name, but I don't know what it is. [I think she is a great grandmother by now]. I don't think so. Loraine Eddy (?), she's remarried [yes, she's divorced] to a man of some other name, I don't know it. And Adairre, of course, Adairre Newman(?), of course they live over in St. Paul...they have grown children. Adairre we almost adopted at one time, I guess, she was a cute kid [she was darling]. And of course there was Lovell(?), he goes by the name of Joe. He's in St. Paul. I don't know just what he's doing. Now, Libby is now remarried and her name is Mrs. John Arnsdorf. Eddie died {as a very little child}, Eddie never really matured. He lived to be, twenty five, maybe, but Eddie never really matured. His mother was not well when he was born, and somehow he never, well he was a nice boy, he had a good disposition [wasn't he hydrocephalic, kind of a big head?]. No, his head wasn't any bigger than mine [I mean when he was born]. I don't know. [Do you have a picture of him?]. Yes. We'll have that in just a moment. No, there was nothing abnormal about him. He had a good size head, so did the old man. Well, there were two smaller children who died in infancy...Ermanos(?) and Osaline. [Sounds like Biblical names]. Now, let's look at some pictures. [Wait a minute, didn't you skip one of the boys?] Who? [Nazarre Mathias]. Oh, I don't know anything about him. Nobody wants to know about him. Who the hell cares about him.

[How big of a man was Dolord?]. About 6 foot, Henry and Dolord were six footers. Albert was the shortest, about five-six or so. Albert and Dolord played football at Crandall(?), South Dakota State. They played a lot of football. [He looks like he was pretty sturdy.]...{later}...

I was captain of my company. I was fourteen or fifteen at the time, and I was captain of the (?) company. [Was this a military school?]. Most Indians called it an industrial school. See, you would go to school half a day and work half a day. You would only get a half a day's school. This would go until the 10th grade. I finished 10th grade. That's where I started to learn the tailors trade, of course. Then they'd send you, well, they were all kind of assigned...I was captain of the football team, too. This within that military thing. They went out and drilled, too. Have to march to meals all the time, and always had assembly, you know, and then company dismissed and so on. [That must have influenced you]. I don't know. [Well, weren't you in the service a long time?]. Well, I served two years in the first world war. But I was eleven years old when I went, and mother, oh brother! cried. Victor was going...well if Victor was going, well, I was going.

[Did you ever read the book "Spirit Lake"?]. I've seen it, yes. I saw that passage where it refers to, well, that was grandfather! [That was grandfather]. Sure. [You have the book?]. Well, Lillian has it. Sure, that was grandfather. [Do you have the story on that?]. It's awfully sketchy, I don't know the history of that. Well, he had a store down in Springfield (actually, Coursolle's Trading Post...ewc) or somewhere down there (Jackson, I believe...ewc) and too, he was a scout during the Indian uprising. These Felix's, they knew him, you know. They said he was quite a guy. [He was called Joe Gaboo in the book. What would that reference be?]. Joe Gaboo, that I don't know. (See other history sections for explanation of Joe Gaboo and other mysteries...ewc). I never heard the Felix's or dad or anybody refer to that. I don't know. (During my investigations, I wrote to McKinley Kantor, Author of "Spirit Lake" and "Andersonville" to ask him about the reference to Joe (Gaboo) Coursolle in his book. He sent me a postcard, written in longhand, of where he had gotten his information. This scanned postcard is included in this history, in another section...ewc).

Well, let me see. Any Questions? Well, should I dwell on some of this French stuff, now? Would you like to hear something about that? [Sure!]. Now Ralph, as you know, went to Paris and got to looking in the telephone directory, and saw the name Coursolle, so he called up, or rather, he went there. He found a woman who couldn't speak English and all he could understand was that the party there had gone so he tore the leaf out of the telephone book and drove home. And he showed it to me, one day, and I thought well I'll write to this guy. And so I wrote him. And the first line I wrote him in French was I'll write to you in English because my French is very bad. So I went on and wrote in English. Then I quoted from this genealogical thing, you know, that says the family originated in Il de Rae. I quoted from that to give this guy something to go on. Well, I got a letter back from him, and I guess I never did translate this letter, but it says..."I read with emotion your letter, and it {just got to me}. Never would I have thought that there was a family of Coursolle's in the United States. And it is also remarkable that your name is written in the same fashion. There are, in fact, very few persons by that name in France, and in my own family, my proper family, my immediate family, I am the only one that carries that name. (When I was in France, 1970 or so, in my search I never found any instance of a Coursolle...ewc). But following me will be my two sons, Bernard and Claud. I shall make right away the research on Il de Rae (where the Coursolle's came from). It's a little island, by the way, off the shore of La Rochelle. Only two miles. There is a good, big ferry there, big ferry, beautiful ferry, that runs from La Rochelle to Il de Rae. La Rochelle, of course, is on the west coast of France, up in Brittany. I shall make some researches on Il de Rae, that I know very well, and I shall give you some information concerning your family. Too bad I did not receive your letter a short time ago, in October (I) with my wife had a very good trip to the United States." I guess they were here when Ralph was in Paris, and that's why they didn't get together. They went to New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Dallas, they liked Dallas very much, and New Orleans and Washington and so on. They go on..."we would certainly have come to Minneapolis for the pleasure of knowing you. You can count on me to keep you current or find any news (on anything on any person) that I can get."

He's already talked, I guess, to the mayor of La Flotte, this little town on Ile de Re. Now we go on to another letter..."I received your letter and I thank you for it. I understand English very well, but as this is easier, I continue to write to you in French. I hope you understand despite my bad writing. We went, my wife and I, last Monday to Il de Rae and we did some good work, very efficiently. We stayed all day consulting all possible registers, and I assure you that it is very difficult because for the main part they are very badly written and {there have been so many} years with nothing being recorded. However, we were rewarded. With the help of several miscellaneous documents, I was able to make up a genealogical table of this Coursolle family, and note that the name is written exactly Coursolle. Without you, I never would have known that the family had ever existed in Ile de Re, and my knowledge of the family only goes back to my grandfather who originally lived in Avernne (?) in central France. Now I am sure that I belong to the same family as yours because for one thing the name Coursolle is very very rare in France. Another thing, I went to look to find an extraordinary document that makes the link between Ile de Re and Avernne. In fact, I found the marriage certificate, January 1729, of Magdelane Coursolle, born in 1710, sister of Jacques, married to Louies se de Bell or something and so I was in the vacinity of where was born my grandfather. This would be a coincidence, but for us the history is to know whether the Coursolle's really originated in Ile De Re and went from there to Avernne or the other way around. At the moment, I lean toward the latter hypothesis, because I was unable to find any record of Pierre Coursolle before 1700. It is true that I did not exhaust the records at La Flotte, Ile De Re. We shall peruse the journals of the regions, to see if there are mentions of the name Coursolle. In addition, in the spring I shall make inqueries about Avernne in an attempt to ascertain whether there is a record of the family before 1700.

Here is the Baptismal record of Jocques Coursolle. Now another thing. We went to the cemetery in La Flotte...dates back only to 1840. I found a number of graves marked Coursolle, one marked 1796-1866, Adalay Coursolle. She was an instructress, died at 70 years and with whom has extinguished the Coursolle name in La Flotte". I'm not sure of this translation. "As for yourself, have you been able to trace your ancestors back to Jocques Coursolle? He left for America in 1720 at the age of 15. When I et further interesting information, I shall make it known to you. Be willing, Mr. Coursolle, to accept assurance that my feelings are most cordial."

Well, now, I'm through with this book or booklet you've all seen. I think I've exhausted your patience. [No! Don't stop! Keep going!] Thank you very much. [But, you know, I just wonder how they know that your father was part Indian. How did they know that?] Well, because Joseph Coursolle, who worked there at Sibley, and who...Margaret Garceau certainly acknowledged that he was the father of her child, Henri, well he was half Indian. Lived there in Mendota. His mother was an Indian woman, apparently, see, so he was a half breed. [But you all say apparently. How do they know?] Well, they don't know. And I've been unable to find and I've written all over this country and I've traced the Coursolle's as far as Chicago, I've traced them down through Wisconsin, the Coursolle's owned some land up in upper Michigan, but never in Minnesota. I can't do it. I can't find anything I'm tracing here. Well, that name didn't come out of a clear sky. [No.] That's for sure. [Well, it came from the French people, there's no Indian in the Coursolle's over in France.] No. That's where they came from. But this Coursolle certainly came from Canada and not from France. See, they're all fur traders. The American Fur Company. [Uncle Naz, have you ever read the book "Spirit Lake"?] I've seen that name, but I've never read the whole book. I don't read fiction. [It called Joe Coursolle a half-breed Indian.] Yes, that's the guy. That's the same guy. [Really?] His mother was an Indian woman. [Didn't you write to McKinley Kantor and ask him about that?] Yes I did, but I never got an answer. I've exhausted about every darn source that I could find anything about...from the libraries in Detroit, from Montreal, from Chicago, from Madison to LaCrosse to everywhere, and I've traced the Coursolle's in Chicago, as I say, and in Michigan and one trace made mention of a Coursolle woman coming down on a boat through Wisconsin someplace, her name is mentioned, but there seems to be no records at all. [You don't know anything at all about Joe Coursolle; fathers mother then?] My grandfathers father and mother? [Joe Coursolle, yes.] My fathers name was Joe Coursolle [Your fathers name was Henri]. I mean my grandfather [right] [there were two Joe Coursolles] [and you don't know anything about his parents?] No, nothing, absolutely nothing. Now, if I'd known this when I was young, I think I would have talked to dad or some of these other people and found out all about it. But the fact that grandfather, Joseph Coursolle, was regarded as a half breed at the time, and the name Coursolle didn't come out of a clear sky, so these fur traders all established these homes with Indian women. The presumption, I think, is fair to assume that this fur trader name Coursolle established that home and had a child with this Indian woman in Mendota, because Mendota was the home of grandfather Coursolle. So I think it's a fair assumption, myself. I don't know how conclusive this is, but it is a hypothesis. [It must have been accepted at Flandreau or you couldn't have gotten into school, could you?] Oh, yes, we were enrolled at some time in some Indian role, somewhere in the Sisseton tribe, or something like that for awhile.

[Uncle Naz, when were you going to school in Flandreau? What years?] I went there in 1898 and came out in 1902. [Because when we stopped there that time I was curious, I talked to them about looking up the records and seeing what they could find out about the Coursolle's, and they went back and said 'about what year?' and I said well I don't know, maybe anywhere from 1898 to 1900. So they went back and they looked and they couldn't find anything. They have all kinds of records, but they couldn't find any so they said 'well, why don't you come back here and start looking, too?' so I was looking through the files and there wasn't a sign of...] Well, did they have the names of pupils? Graduates? [Yes] I graduated in 1902, Victor and I were graduates in 1902...[and we couldn't find a Coursolle in the lot, so they said 'well, a lot of records have been sent to the Indian headquarters in Kansas City'. So they gave me the address to write, so I wrote there, and they also came up blank. They wrote back and said they couldn't find any sign of any Coursolle ever having attended school at Flandreau.] Well, maybe we weren't there, then. Maybe we were playing hooky. [Was there more than one Indian school in Flandreau?] Oh,no. I remember the principle was Louisse Cavalier. She was a single woman, little small woman, very fancy little gal. She was a little gal when we were there, of course, she was a very young school teacher. She was the principle. She taught the 9th and 10th grades, I think it was. The 10th anyway. And she came to St. Paul with (?). She lived at the Ryan hotel. And then she died...[say, Naz. Mary says that Vic's graduation was from Riggs Institute.] Yes, that's right. They called it Riggs Institute. That's right. That's the official name of the school. [It's out of town a little ways, isn't it?] Yes, about a mile. [One original building is still there, that's the one we were in, the Administration building.] I think the kitchen/dining room is still there, we were there about two years ago. There was the kitchen/dining room, dance hall. We used to hold our dances there. (????) mess hall (????). That's where we ate the government gravy.

This information goes back to the 1600's. About four centuries. At one time I was talking to the keeper of the archives in Montreal to see if they could put me in touch with somebody named Coursolle in Canada. So they gave me the name of Ferdinand Coursol, spelled COURSOL, gave me his address, and he's the one who sent me this genealogical tree. This guy really had the bucks. He had a wholesale grocery, a baby food factory...well, then Teen and I went to Canada, went to Montreal in 1936. I'd written this guy in advance and told him I'd call on him. Well, anyway, he said 'I want you to take me to my cousin over across the river to a new dioscees, a Catholic dioscees called St. Johns of Quebec'. HE took me over there and had a long visit. This was a new dioscees, and he found this cousin, Coursolle, who was the Monsenior. And this cousin, this Ferdinand, said that when they organized this dioscees they wanted to make him Bishop. But, no, he said, he's too old, he didn't want it. So they made him chancellor of the dioscees. This poor dioscees, you know a country. The building we were in was the Bishops house. Very bare, wood walls, chairs, desk, very bare. Wore a black Cossack, smoked a clay pipe. We visited there for I guess a couple of hours at least. I swear I was talking to dad! Looked just like him, talked just like him. We sat there for a couple of hours. They talked a little among themselves, and the priest said something about this Ferdinand losing about a quarter of a million in the stock market, but it didn't hurt him much. This guy really had the bucks.

These records go back to 1603. From the records in Avernne. They discovered that the Coursolle who was the father of the man who came over here, served in the army in Avernne, was sent to Ile De Re to protect the island of Ile De Re from the British, and then he established a family there and had these children, but these were the only Coursolle's that ever lived in Ile De Re, and they were from the one who was originally sent there as part of a military unit. He had at least two sons and they decided to stay together and go to Canada. One of them did not have any children. So therefore, all of the Coursolles in America and in Canada are from that one man. So(he) is satisfied that the family cradle is in Avernne. Just that one guy went to Ile De Re, and that name is now extinct in Ile De Re. Apparently they didn't propagate too much and this one grave that they found, this woman who died in 1896, she was a maiden woman, a teacher, and that is the last trace that they could find of any Coursolles in Ile De Re. So he is satisfied that that is the same gang that came to Ile De Re and that is where it ends.

She (???) says that as far as they go back, tradition has it that the progenitor of the Garceaus in North America was an emigrant who left his native France under a cloud, date unknown. That upon reaching Canada he concealed his true name and thought up and adopted the unique name of Garceau. He made it up. Assuming this to be true, it follows that all descendents of this immigrant are blood relatives to some degree, there not being any other Garceau strain as known here. The earliest record of a Garceau is that of Jean Batist Garceau, in the province of Quebec, Canada. Whether he was the name-switching French immigrant or a descendent of him has not been determined. He was married to Madaline Rivard, presumably in the parish of St. Annes of something, dioscees of Nicollet in Quebec. Well, their son John Garceau was born on October 10, 1800. There were several other children. Now, John Garceau married Marie Ann Gingras or something on November 8, 1825 in the parish of St. Michael of something, also in the dioscees of Nicollet. She was born in that parish on November 5, 1810. This John Garceau, now, and his family, nine girls and five boys, arrived in St. Paul, Minnesota on June 7, 1846, and soon settled in what is now Vadnais Heights in Ramsey County. Now, that's up there on Edgerton and Centerville (?) road. The house is still there, the Garceau family is still there, some of them. Now, they built and occupied a house at the east corner of the south southern corner of the lake later known as Lake Vadnis, named after John Vadnis, John Garceaus brother-in-law, who settled on the land immediately south of the Garceau land. The second eldest child of John Garceau was Margaret, mother of Henri Coursolle. She was born in Canada on June 6, 1829. Henri Coursolle was born on June 25, 1849. (Henri was Naz's father and Margaret was Naz's grandmother).

[This book, "Spirit Lake" says that Joe Coursolle, your grandfather, was a half breed. Then your father was only a quarter breed.] That's right. [And then you're only an eighth.] That's right. And you're only a sixteenth, if you didn't get some more along the way. [But I thought you had to be at least a quarter Indian to qualify for any of these rights, to go to school or anything like that.] Well, the reason... [the reason is that his father was a quarter breed and that's why they could go.] But you're a sixteenth, like I say, unless you gathered more along the way. [Well, if they would gather up enough they would revert back to the Indians, if they kept progressing that way. I think that in that one case, the other stem, down by Montevideo or whatever it is, now he picked up Indian along the way.] Yes, they married Indians. So the kids would be more Indian than the parents and so on. [That's right, they're so much more over there.] I don't think that's family, I think that's kind of fizzled down over there. [Well, you see them crop up every once in awhile.] [In order to go to school in Flandreau, I think you had to be an eighth.] Oh, they didn't have any rules at all. [Well, we asked and they said that. You are an eighth.] Yes, I know. There were a lot of people who were perfectly white who went there. Tow heads. And they didn't have any Indian, or nobody told them if they did, but somebody said 'well, there's a good school, and it doesn't cost anything, a good time to get an education, don't you know, so come on' and that's the way it went. There were no questions at the time. Now, I suppose, it is different.

[Say, you ought to tell about grandpa and the free land he was given.] Oh, yeah. Everybody! Gen wanted me to tell you about that piece of land that dad had or almost had at one time. It's way up...it's timber land, I guess it turned out to be ore land later on. Well, all I know about it is what I read in the case study when I went to law school. One of the first cases at law school to study, the whole class, was Coursolle against Weyerhaeuser. It seems that there was some Indian script of some kind issued, it gave them the right to (??). Well, father had sold his to somebody and Weyerhaeuser had finally got ahold of it. But at that time, father was not of age, when he sold that away. So, some smart lawyer from Minneapolis, I remember it very well, I guess he was a good lawyer, an older man, not an old man, had a full beard, short beard, very nice appearing fellow, I remember him coming to the farm, and he took up the case on the theory that father was not of age and therefore the contract was void. So they went to the Supreme court. [What was his name, do you remember?] This lawyer? I've forgotten his name. But this land script was issued in fathers name. So this lawyer took it to the courts. I suppose he lost in the lower courts, so he took it to the Supreme court. And the court held, and that was a new rule, too, in Minnesota, that even though he were a minor, when he signed a contract of that kind, that if he didn't revoke it after he became of age, within a reasonable time, the contract was binding. Which was a new rule in Minnesota. Used to be, with a minor, no good anytime. But the court held, that even though he was a minor when he signed it, he did not revoke it in the reasonable time after he came of age, therefore it was binding. So, as I said, when I first got to law school, the very first case was Coursolle against Weyerhaeuser. And I said Sure! That's my dad! [Wasn't that land where the iron mines are now?] Well, it's up there somewhere. Whether or not there was ever any iron on it, I don't know. At that time it was just for timber, Weyerhaeuser, you see. Now, I don't know just what piece of land it was. I suppose if I would read that case I could tell you. I suppose the description is there, and we could trace it if you want to. I never did that. [How much land was it?] I've forgotten, either a quarter or half a section. [Yes, that's the way they used to issue it.] [What is a section?] A section is 640 acres...a mile each direction.