Standing Where My Ancestors Stood

I recently spent a month in Montreal. While there, I wrote extensively on a memoir of my seventeenth-century ancestors. One day, I drove to the town of Varennes just across the Saint Lawrence from Montreal. It was in Varennes (beginning in 1679) that Louis Ledoux and Marie Valiquet raised their family.

The mountain range that is a prominent feature of Montreal Island is clearly visible from Varennes. As I stood in a riverside park looking across the river at the city, I began to wonder what it had been like to live through the violent experiences that I write about in the exerpt, The Lachine Massacre.

Suddenly it occurred to me that I might find the very spot--almost--where Louis and Marie lived. This is how I could do it.

According to historical documents, after the events I write about below, the militia of the village of Varennes built a fort on a promontory owned by Louis and Marie Ledoux. From there, the militia could spot all traffic on the great river. While there's no record of where that land was, I did have a description of where the fort was: on a promontory. Perhaps if I could find the promontory, I could find the land owned by these very first North American Ledouxs.

Where I stood, the riverbank was straight. No promontory here. I had just driven from the west so I knew there was no promontory there. So, I got back in the car and drove east. Soon, I came on a side road called Chemin Presqu'isle (Almost-an-Island Road). This sounded promising to someone searching for a promontory! Feeling just a bit excited now, I went down Chemin Presqu'isle. There (I must say to my disappointment) I found a housing development. Dozens and dozens of houses one next to the other, blocking me from the shore.

Looking to the east, west and the south, however, I could see water. I could also see right across the river into Montreal. This was definitely a promontory, and most likely it was the promontory.

For what it was worth, it felt good to stand on a piece of land that had nurtured Ledouxs three hundred years ago. I'm not sure it helped me write a better memoir, you understand, but it made me feel connected to my past in more than an intellectual or even emotional way. Though the version I saw was interupted by tract houses and across the river, skyscrapers and highways, I could imagine the view my ancestors knew well. I was standing where they had stood.

If you have stories of visiting places or land(s) that once belonged to your ancestors, please send them along. I'd love to share them in these pages. Sometimes we forget that it took a lot of ancestors--a lot of lives lived--to bring us to this moment. Learning more about who they were can shine a little light on who we want to be. Knowing that my world was theirs once makes me pause to think about future generations and what they will see here!

You can contact Denis at denis@turningmemories.com. he'd love to hear from you.