A family history blog in French and English

Sanford-Springvale, Maine, Railroad Station, early 1900s. Collections of the Sanford-Springvale Historical Society.

Friday, November 1, 2019

The European Travel Notes of Edmund Demers - June to September 1956




Professor Edmund Demers with two students at Clarke College.
Dubuque, Iowa. Circa 1956.
(Photo: Courtesy of Edmund Demers)
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When the academic year ended at Clarke College, a small Catholic women’s college in Dubuque, Iowa, in the spring of 1956, Edmund Demers, 36 and a professor of art, had his bags packed and car ready for the long drive of almost 1,500 miles back to his home town of Sanford, Maine. But he didn’t stay to visit family and friends for long, only a week, before he took a bus to Boston to catch another bus to Montreal where the passenger liner, the Castel Felice, was waiting to take him to Le Havre, France. This was to be Edmund’s first trip to Europe, where he hoped that visiting cultural sites would improve his knowledge of art and art history, especially painting, sculpture and architecture, and his ability to teach it.
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The passenger liner Castel Felice docked in Le Havre, France. 
It appears that the liner in the background is the Ile de France. 
Early September, 1956.


(Photo by Edmund Demers)

Edmund boarded the ship at Pier 45 in the Port of Montreal for the Atlantic crossing to Le Havre, France in June 1956. The passage took ten days. He will return on the same vessel, but will disembark in New York City, rather than Montreal. For more information and photos of the ship, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castel_Felice. 
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Throughout the trip, Edmund maintained a travel journal like the one his grandfather Télesphore Demers kept during his 1908 trip to Québec and his Aunt Odelie Demers during hers in 1898.  Unlike Télesphore and Odelie, however, Edmund took a camera with him and shot photographic slides in color, some of which are included in this post.

Like the notes of Télesphore and Odelie, and despite the fact his trip occurred only about 60 years ago, Edmund’s journal describes a world in many ways different from today’s: travel by passenger ship to Europe rather than by jet; a Europe still rebuilding from WWII; the relatively small number of American tourists, especially in less populated areas outside of Paris and other major cities; the use of national currencies (the French franc, the German mark, the Italian lira), rather than the euro; and the limited means of communication, mostly by telegram and mail to and from the United States and Europe, and within Europe itself. And in several passages during his stay in southern France, he gives an indication of France's then deep military and political involvement in North Africa, particularly in Algeria.

As we did with the travel journals of Télesphore and Odelie, Edmund and I collaborated at transcribing and annotating his travel notes just before his death at the end of February 2019. The notes are almost entirely in English, but several long passages were written in French. (Edmund, who was fluent in French, had studied some German and Italian to prepare for his travels to Germany, Switzerland, and Italy.) The French has been retained and italicized in the transcribed text and is immediately followed with English translations in brackets.

This post contains excerpts from his journal that were written two months into his trip about his memorable three-day stay in the small village of Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan near the Garonne River in southern France. Edmund and I started with this part of the journal because his fondest memories of the trip were from his visit to Saint-Sauveur. Over the coming winter months, I plan to publish the remainder of his travel notes in the blog.
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Travel Notes and Photos:
Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan and Neighboring Villages

August 15-18, 1956.

With minor revisions to punctuation, spelling, and spacing.
 Text in parentheses is in original text; newly inserted language is in brackets.

Introduction

While still a relatively young man, Odias “Pete” Demers, Edmund’s father, suffered so severely from arthritis that he had to leave his career as a pharmacist. To earn a living, he became a commercial trader of postage stamps on an international scale; this was a business he could manage at home to support his family even when restricted to a wheelchair. As part of this work, he corresponded with other traders or philatelists around the world, including a priest, Father Maurice Expert, the abbé in the small parish of the village of Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan. The village is located in the Lot-et-Garonne department of southern France between the cities of Carcassonne and Bordeaux and is a short distance south of the small city of Marmande.
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(Bulletin paroissial n°468, June-July 1956)


Bulletin paroissial n°472,  December 1956



Bulletin paroissial n°475,  March 1957

Bulletin paroissial n°479,  August/September 1957



Bulletin paroissial n°481,  November 1956

Excerpts from the parish journal, the Bulletin Paroissial, 
of Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan. 

The Bulletin Paroissial, a monthly publication, was edited and substantially written by Abbé Maurice Expert. It provided news about the activities of the parish, as well as general local news. The excerpts above show that it also contained news about the abbé's stamp collecting hobby. The first four items describe stamps that Edmund’s father, Odias, had recently sent; the last item is an open message to Odias. Apparently, Odias subscribed to the Bulletin. The message reads: O. Demers. - We haven’t yet had time to work on the latest delivery from you, but we hope to be able to do so soon !
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In the spring of 1956, Odias wrote to Abbé Expert to tell him that his son Edmund would be traveling in France that summer and wondered if he could visit with the priest in Saint-Sauveur. By the time the abbé responded by mail with an enthusiastic yes, along with a package containing contact information, directions, and bus schedules to Saint-Sauveur, Edmund had already departed for Europe. Odias, therefore, mailed the package to Rome for Edmund to pick up before he went on to southern France.

The entries from the travel notes below begin in Marseille, France, where Edmund had briefly stopped on his way to Saint-Sauveur after a lengthy stay in Italy. By this time, he had been in Europe two months.
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From the Travel Notes


August 14, 1956

Mirabile dictu!* The train to Marmande (Marseille to Bordeaux) was not overcrowded. In fact, I shared a compartment with a French soldier - which means we each had an upholstered seven or eight foot bench to stretch out on. [I] slept well, although I hated to miss some of the towns we passed through, namely Toulouse and Carcassonne. The soldier was going home on 30 days leave, but was quite sure he would be called back on account of the international situation. He is very sure there will be war with Egypt and more trouble in North Africa.** He said the large numbers of North Africans in France is part of a calculated policy. Arab troops especially are sent back to France; there is a feeling that the loyalty of a Muslim is very tenuous. [He] would like very much to visit the U.S.A., but says, unfortunately, he studied Spanish instead of English at school.

[*Latin, meaning "marvelous to say".]
[**Note: The Suez Crisis will start at the end of October.]

August 15, 1956

Arrived in Marmande this A.M. about 6:15, August 15, ‘56. The town is much larger than I thought it would [be] - there is a neat little park before the railway station with neatly kept flower beds and clipped hedges [and a] fountain in the center. Being a holiday [Assumption Day], there were already a few early travelers abroad [including] farmers in their black suits. The people look well dressed and neat; very different from the Marseillais. I went to seven o’clock mass and was struck by the simple beauty of this gothic church. Only the early Italian basilicas have anything like the nice form and structural directness of these churches. The church was pretty well-filled - [a] great number of missals and prayer books [were] in evidence. The gospel was read simultaneously with [the] celebrant’s reading [of] the gospel at the altar. A rather flowery sermon followed.
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Marmande Train Station.
Although this photo was taken in 2011,
the station looks very much like it did in the 1950s. 
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License)

For more information on the photo, see:
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Marmande_Gare_02.jpgwikimedia.org/wiki/File:Marmande_Gare_02.jpg.

Postcards from the early to mid-20th century of the train station, its garden, and the Hotel des Messageries and the surrounding area can be viewed at:
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(This reminds me: the French soldier said their government was ineffective; [he] longs for a government which will take decisive action. “We spend too much time talking it over,” he said.)

There is a very nice little hotel in town. After mass I went there for coffee.   [I] was surprised to see a group of people (who also had been to mass) who were Dutch or German tourists (or possibly Alsatians).  The number of [people receiving] communion was very large; an old curé [priest] said mass and it was very slow.
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Notre Dame Church in Marmande. 2012.
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License)


 Several photographs of the church, including views of the interior, from the early to mid 20th century can be seen at:
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Église_Notre-Dame_de_Marmande; and
//www.ansichtskartenversand.com/ak/93-carte-postale-ancienne/34299-Ville-de-Marmande/.
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The bus to Saint Sauveur “ne fonctionne pas jours le fête” [doesn't run on holidays]. Il y a un taxi, mais avant tout, je vais essayer de rejoindre Monsieur le curé Expert par téléphone. [There is a taxi, but before anything else, I'm going to try to call the pastor of the parish, Maurice Expert, by telephone.]

I contacted Monsieur Thomazeau on the phone. The unusual tone of European phones, the wine merchant’s thick accent, plus the fact he was shouting into the phone made the conversation difficult. But anyway, I got across to him that the Abbé should call me when he came back. Abbé Expert did [call back] (he shouted worse than Thoumazeau) and said someone should come out and pick me up at the Hotel des Messageries at Marmande. This is a nice little town of 15,000, on a main route between Bordeaux and Toulouse. Consequently, [there are] many tourists, a nice little hotel and a pleasant cafe. I relaxed, read a copy of Paris Match, and had vermouth. Mr. Thoumazeau showed up. I tried to get in the right side of the car, but there was a steering wheel! We got reshuffled and started off.

Mr Thomazeau seemed to be suffering from occupational hazards: a livid complexion and a gouty foot. We chatted about agriculture, the hard winter, the Mediterranean to Bordeaux canal, and gas consumption of U.S. and French cars. And how rich all Americans are. He has seen them at a nearby munitions camp. They all have very big cars!
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Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan, with its church and town hall (the white building).
Looking south on Route de Saint-Sauveur, Route D264. August 15-18, 1956.
(Photo by Edmund Demers)
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Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan is just a wide place in the road, or should I say a narrow place in the road. Next to a little church of the 19th century, Romanesque-Gothic (not too terribly bad), is the rectory. I alighted from the car. The Abbé came forward to meet me, and we shook hands all around. I was led right into the old foursquare house, which had all the casual ramshackle quality one could ask for.
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The church in Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan in 2012, 
looks much as it did in 1956.
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License)
For more information on the photograph, see:
For more photographs on Saint-Sauveur: 
For a postcard from the 1950s of the rectory, church and city hall: 
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We went into the dining room on the right of the central hallway. A soup tureen stood waiting for us on a sort of marble lazy Susan hot-pad in the center of a long table. The places were set. The Abbé said grace in Latin, and we sat down to a delicious vermicelli soup. Father Maurice Expert is amazingly unaffected and easy to know. We got doing well right from the start. The Abbé wore spectacles of a pince-nez type with peculiar shaped lenses of the Ben Franklin-type; a few gold medals dangle from the front of his soutane.

After a sort of meatloaf, salad and beefsteak flavored with garlic, we had peaches, coffee and cigars. [There was] plenty of wine and bread.

This was followed by a tour of the church, described as “moderne,” being less than a century old. [There are a] few stained-glass windows in the apse; 12 more are needed for the nave before the curé can call the church finished. He pointed out and explained at some length the mural paintings done by an itinerant Italian decorator. There is a figure of Christ with the Blessed Sacrament flanked by the Four Evangelists in roundels. They are surprisingly good, especially so when one considers that the figures, plus marbleizing the columns flanking the sanctuary, imitation stone courses and various floral garlands, cherubs on the blue painted vaults, plus the coats of arms of the various bishops going back to 1616 [that are] painted on the knobs of the vaults - the whole [of it] for 6,000 francs (pre-war) plus meals.

We visited the sacristy. [There are] shelves for various diocesan orders, ancient moth-eaten vestments. Picturesque cobwebs festooned the cross over the tabernacle. He pointed with some pride to light switches which control strings of colored lights around the altars of St. Joseph and the Blessed Virgin.

We retired to our rooms for an hour or two. At the dance pavilion set up on the street just a house away, the band struck up some very lively music; a fiddle, saxophone, accordion, piano, and drum do a marvelous job. The rhythm and sense of phrasing is good: tango, waltzes, two-steps and a kind of local polka seem to be the thing. It is the first time in Europe I have not heard an American tune or European imitations of American jazz. Come to think of it, I have not seen a Coca-Cola sign here either. At the fair, there is a booth where peanuts and various candies, including Wrigley's [and] “Hollywood” chewing gum. This was the usual village fiesta, called “The Botte” for some reason. There is a little booth where one can test one’s marksmanship - another sells toys, another candy, another ice cream and soft drinks. This plus the dance pavilion is the whole show. It seems to me there is a remarkable lack of exuberance. In Italy, the noise would certainly be deafening. Here, there is an occasional little firecracker or cap pistol.
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Stalls at the fair, la Botte, in Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan near the church.
(Photo by Edmund Demers, August 15-17, 1956.)
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I have been reading a magazine, one of a pile of “Le Sol de France” on my table (they are all [from] 1926). It says this region has one of the lowest birth rates in France. Italians and Poles have been moving into the unoccupied farms. After seeing the intense cultivation of the Po Valley, it is easy [to see] how much more densely populated this area could be. It is beautiful country: palms, figs, apples, prunes, peaches, tobacco, corn, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, cukes, beets, celery, asparagus, and what all!

We had a good supper, [then went] upstairs to look at the stamp collection, and then early to bed. I stayed up a bit to read a few articles in the “Bulletin Paroissial” describing a little Romanesque Church we visited today.

Thursday, August 16

After café au lait and toast about 8 o’clock, we headed to Meilhan. The Abbé got out his car, a museum piece. It is 30 years old, but he has only had it for 26 years! It is a peculiar little two-seater Citroën; it has a tiny engine which starts with a hand crank, which I am now pretty handy with. The back end has a peculiar little luggage compartment shaped like the stern of a boat.
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Father Expert and his Citroën next to the rectory
in Saint-Saveur-de-Meilhan. Note the opened “stern-shaped” trunk of the car. 
(Photo by Edmund Demers, August 15-17, 1956.)

 For a charming photograph of Father Expert with altar boys, see Geneanet.org: 

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The paved route was being crossed by the water main (Meilhan will have water!). We took a little detour on a dirt road a half mile from the curé’s house. He says he had never been on that road. (He has been in the Parish for 37 years). At Meilhan,* I bought an airmail stamp at the Post Office. [There was a] very cordial introduction to the Postmistress, then a stop at the “archiprêtre” of the town, Fr. Brunet, a young, jolly type who obviously considers the curé a sort of likable old character. He was much interested in my trip and my teaching. My teaching in [a] Catholic girls’ school has been a matter of some consternation to Fr. Expert. [I] explained it all in great length last night. Certainly we can be rightly proud of our Catholic school system which is badly needed in Italy and France, but they do not have the imagination and confidence to effect it, it seems.

*[This appears to be Meilhan-sur-Garonne.]
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The 1926 Citroën (“immortelle,” as it was called by Father Expert), 
in the intersection in Meilhan-sur-Garonne on the road from Saint-Sauveur.
(Photo by Edmund Demers, August 16, 1956.)
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Next we went to “the Tertre,” a bluff overlooking the valley of the Garonne - also [of] the canal. We visited the church, a 19th century structure in pseudo-Romanesque style.  We returned for lunch: soup, pork chops, pasta fried in chicken fat, Roquefort cheese.
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File:Meilhan-sur-Garonne Église Saint-Cibard 01.jpg

Saint-Cibard Church, Meilhan-sur-Garonne. 2012
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License). 

For more information on the the photograph:
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Meilhan-sur-Garonne_%C3%89glise_Saint-Cibard_01.jpg.
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Father Maurice Expert in Le Tertre in Meilhan-sur-Garonne.
Saint-Cibard Church is in the background.
(Photo by Edmund Demers, August 16, 1956.)
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Meilhan-sur-Garonne today.
"Le Tertre" overlooks the Garonne Canal and the Garonne River at the bottom of the picture.
(Google Imagery, copyright 2019)
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View of the Garonne River and the Garonne Canal
from "Le Tertre," a promontory in Meilhan-sur-Garonne. 2012.
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License). 

For more information on the the photograph:
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Meilhan-sur-Garonne_Canal.jpg.

For more images and information on Meilhan-sur-Garonne, go to: 
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meilhan-sur-Garonne.
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It being the heat of the day, we laid low till 3:15 or so when we headed south toward Cocumont. An ancient church [la Vieille Eglise], surrounded by a graveyard, was most interesting. It was romanesque and of simple and beautiful proportions; [it was] in a sad state of disrepair, however. Unfortunately, the renaissance paintings in the back of the altar are just falling apart, eventually only the original fabric will be left. The flaking plaster revealed some early frescoes of a rather nice romanesque style. There is a good chance they will all crumble away before anything will ever be done about it. This is all so different from England where all sorts of efforts would be expended to save and preserve such an ancient structure. The entrance is at the side and one must go down five steps to the floor of the church. The original wooden roof is long gone and another replaces it. [I] took a few [camera] shots, the Abbé was included; he seems to like the idea of being photographed.
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The old church, la Vieille Eglise, of Cocumont, dates from the 11th century.
Photo above: the canopy at the entrance. Photo below: the apses of the choir.
Circa 1910.

The Vieille Église is now under the care of a non-profit organization, Cocumont Memoire et Patrimoine. You can see a recent video clip about the church, "Soutenez la Vieille Église de Cocumont," on the Association's website: https://cocumontpatrimoine.jimdo.com.
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Next, the town of Cocumont. We bought gas at a reasonably up-to-date garage. [We] visited the church, 19th century, yet [it] has the sturdy masonry and limestone vault of an authentic Romanesque church.
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File:Cocumont Église SJB 2.jpg

St-Jean-Baptiste Church in the village of Cocumont. 2009.

For more information on the church and the photograph:
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cocumont_Église_SJB_2.jpg

For more information and photos on Cocumont: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Cocumont.
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St-Jean-Baptiste Church in the village of Cocumont.
Circa 1920.
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Next we stopped in for a charming visit with Mr. Alfred Veilhon, sabotier [wooden clog maker]. The interesting tools of his still necessary profession were in the peculiar shop where he also sells magazines. He is 87 years old and an amateur archaeologist. Various articles by him have appeared in the Bulletin Paroissial. He was slightly stooped, wore a beret and sabots and was the embodiment of the more gracious and engaging aspects of the French personality.
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Monsieur André Veilhon, sabotier (clog maker) and local historian, 1951.

In 2015, Monsieur Veilhon was honored with plaque on his tomb in Cocumont in recognition of his work on local history and archaeology. It reads: De condition et de nature modeste, il sut écrire l’histoire de nos ancêtres et de notre cher village. [A humble and unassuming man who was able to write the history of our ancestors and of our dear village.] You can view a video of the unveiling of the plaque, 
"Une épitaphe pour Alfred Veilhon," here: https://cocumontpatrimoine.jimdo.com/agenda/les-évènements/.
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Also, [I] met an amateur photographer, one Monsieur Fanchon, who has been to New York with his father as a young boy. He recently was in Spain photographing stuff in Kodachrome. He has a Kodak Retina - expensive! Our next stop was the house of the curé of Cocumont, Abbé Lartique, a wonderful man of 86, quick of wit and reflex. He has a beard and a twinkle in his eye. Also [we] met his housekeeper, Madame Lacombe, [a] former schoolteacher. They listened with rapt attention as I described the Papal audience, the Atlantic crossing, Clarke College, etc. Tea was served with “niôle,” a local specialty, alcohol distilled from wine and very good. It is usually poured into tea or coffee.

The two old priests discussed ecclesiastical gossip and politics. (A new bishop is being consecrated  over the weekend.) There was also the recent pilgrimage to Lourdes [and a] large group photograph. In spite of their provincialism, and [the] stagnation in these rural areas, these men are very witty and [have] a sharp, cynical sense of humor. The older priest especially (he still drives his own car) was animated and on his toes.  He offered a toast and was most cordial in his pleasure at having met an American qui a tout de même au cœur très français [who is, all the same, very French at heart].

Then they get going on old time religious festivals, which are disappearing. In one place, there was [an] annual blessing of the animals. The curé’s housekeeper went into a lyrical description of the oxen of a certain region, ils sont vraiment monumentaux ! [they are truly monumental], and the ponderous weight of these animals [that] cut deep footprints [and] furrows into the dark mud comme du chocolat [like chocolate]; it was very poetic. There is much of this culture which strikes me as ancient and Celtic: its capacity for poetic speech; the cynical wit; the music which favors very repetitive rhythms of a slightly melancholy air. The superstition is lacking, however. The [word obscured] of the Latins is not here either.
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Abbé Joseph Lartigue, the curé of Cocumont, Madame Lacombe,
the abbé's housekeeper, and Abbé Maurice Expert.
(Photo by Edmund Demers, August 15-17, 1956.)
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L'Abbé Joseph Lartigue, "a wonderful man of 86, quick of wit and reflex. 
He has a beard and a twinkle in his eye."
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Apparently, the church and the faith here have never recovered from the Revolution; indeed, they must have been weak long before then. These old men look with bewilderment on the 20th century and its mores. European theologians may be moving along with brilliant insights with contemporary problems of the church, etc, but it will not be surprising if the Americans find the way to effect this revitalization of Catholicism long before the Europeans. They probably feel that everything has been tried; they really do not believe, or can not imagine, how different things can be.

Tonight we did not have sausage for supper. It was a warm day, so the stuff spoiled (there is no refrigeration, naturally), yet there is electricity in the town, and tractors have practically eliminated the horse (at 1,000,000 farms!). In other words, the refrigerator is within their means, but they do not see its advantages. One has to go to the next town for fresh meat (yet there are two grocery stores in town (épiciers). Poultry is only available if you let Mrs so-and-so know a day or two ahead of time, [then] they will kill and dress one for you.

A leisurely supper tonight and early to bed. Tomorrow, we visit the church of Bazas. Before I forget, I must comment on the remarkable institution of the writing room in every Italian Post Office, a hangover from the days of widespread illiteracy and public letter writers, no doubt. At any rate, one not only goes to the post office to buy a stamp when he has a letter to mail, but also goes there to write letters. There are also typewriters for hire [and] stationary and postcards for 10 lire apiece. The whole thing runs very smoothly. Oh yes, I almost forgot, you can buy lottery tickets there, too!

Friday, August 17

A very interesting day, 50 kilometers of sightseeing and meeting people. First stop, Sigalens, one of the country parishes served by Abbé Expert. There is an indifferent 19th century church. Just up the road a few yards, we stopped at a peculiar country store. A slovenly but gracious lady received us, she was much overwhelmed by being introduced to “un Americain de l’Amerique” [an American from America]. The Abbé was taking great pleasure in introducing me around. I was introduced to the daughter whose husband is in Algeria, and we were ushered into the kitchen, a room cluttered and picturesque beyond words. Quickly glasses were brought out and some liqueur made from quince was passed around. There was [a] ceremonious clinking of glasses and toasts to everyone’s health.
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Saint Pierre Church in Sigalens. 2009.
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License). 

For more information on the church and the photograph:
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L'Église Saint-Pierre in Sigalens. Circa 1910.

For more information on Sigalens and its small villages and churches, see :
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Pretty soon the Abbé’s singer for high masses and funerals in Sigalens came in. He is 90 years old and nearly blind and very friendly. We were off again to Bazas. The old cathedral is fairly interesting, but the weather was overcast and the pictures will be blah. The archiprêtre was not in.
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Bazas Cathedral. August 2007.
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License). 
For more information, see Wikimedia Commons:
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On the way back we stopped at the peculiar old church of Montclaritz [usually spelled Montclaris]. It is surrounded by a walled cemetery, all overgrown with weeds. Nearby is a deserted farmhouse. The whole thing is very melancholy to contemplate. There is a simple Romanesque portal, certainly very old. The apse, of a later date, is vaulted. It also has a belfry. One descends several steps to the floor of the church, a simple, noble interior. I couldn’t help thinking what a magnificent studio it would make or what a fine modern chapel. Not long ago, the Abbé used to say mass here; it soon will be a total loss.
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Saint-Martin-de-Monclaris in Sigalens. 2011.
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License).
For more information on the photograph:
For information on the restoration of the church and additional photographs :
http://www.vallee-du-ciron.com/Architecture/EglisedeMontclaris/histo_anec.htm.
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After lunch, the Abbé gave me some postcards, and I purchased a few medals and pamphlets he had printed. A great amount of devotion, intelligence, research and imagination has gone into these little projects of Abbé Expert, but the people are quite unappreciative of all this, and the faith of the inhabitants is anything but fervent.

Then we visited Mrs. Thomazeau (she has been supplying our table with wine), a very intelligent woman, full of questions on America, travel, etc. Their home is neat and clean, almost luxurious compared to the Abbé’s presbytere [the rectory].  They can afford to go to Paris occasionally, etc.

We then climbed aboard and went off to Aillas-le-Grand. There is a surprisingly beautiful Romanesque tower and portal. The nave was rebuilt around 1900; it is not bad, but lacks that touch the early builders had. Early frescoes were uncovered in the apse. The Abbé was quite young and by far the most energetic and up-to-date cleric I’ve met so far. Certainly the appearance of [the] church, rectory, [and] sacristy spoke of a well-ordered congregation.
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The Church in Aillas-le-Grand. 2011. 
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License).

For more information on the church and the photograph:
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We stopped on the way home to chat with Mr and Mrs Duchamp. They gave us a basket of peaches, and we had a long talk about the tobacco crop, hybrid corn, and schools. (Their daughter is a school teacher.)  We visited Aillas-le-Vieux which the Abbé hoped to build into a pilgrimage spot, but alas, this too is falling into ruin. It is a picturesque and ancient spot.
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Notre-Dame-de-Aillas-le-Vieux
(Photo by Henry Salomé, licenced for use under: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:GNU_Free_Documentation_License). 

For more information on the church and the photograph:
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Église_Notre-Dame_d%27Aillas-le-Vieux_de_Sigalens;
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89glise_Notre-Dame_d%27Aillas-le-Vieux; and
https://www.sauvegardeartfrancais.fr/projets/sigalens-eglise-notre-dame-daillas-le-vieux/.
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After getting back to town, we make a nice visit to the people who run the little grocery store where the bus stops. The lady, Mrs Corfmarie [spelling unclear], and her two daughters (one of whose husband is at Colomb-Béchar in Algeria) were very curious about America: its food, language, cars, roads, etc. We found out that the bus leaves at 8 o’clock (“heure legal”). The Abbé follows solar time for liturgical reasons.

Quiet supper, an interesting codfish soup [and] peaches for dessert, as usual. After dinner the Abbé rolled a bunch of cigarettes, as usual.

Saturday, August 18

Off to an early start with a huge bowl of cafe au lait. (I drink it, but I am against the whole thing in principle [that is, drinking out of a bowl].) The Abbé sat with me, but taking nothing because he had not said mass. [It was] not a very rewarding procedure, since only one person was present besides the two altar boys and the old lady who rings the bell on Friday morning mass for the Souls in Purgatory. [I] took a few camera shots of market day in Marmande, but [the] weather was poor. I just made the express to Bordeaux - nicest train I’ve been on in Europe (extra fare, too) . . . .
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A final look.
Father Expert and his "immortelle"1926 Citroën.
 (Photo by Edmund Demers, August 15-17, 1956.)
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[To be continued . . . ]

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Epilogue

In October 1956, about two months after Edmund left Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan, the Bulletin Paroissial published a detailed article about Edmund’s stay there. Clearly he had made a positive impression on the people he met, and they were eager to get news from him. But in the same issue there was a complaint directed to his attention. Father Expert must have depended on Edmund's father, who apparently was a subscriber to the bulletin, to get the message to him. It reads in English:

          "Ed. Demers. - We are very astonished at not having received a single word, a simple card, from you since you left Marmande: exactly two months [ago]!"


Bulletin paroissial n°471.  October 1956.
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Among Edmund’s files, I found a yellowed copy of the October article as well as another article that was published in December 1956, which contains extensive passages from the thank you letter that Abbé Expert finally received from Edmund. At the end of the second article, it states that January's Bulletin will contain yet more information on Edmund that will answer more of the readers questions about him.

The following is my translation of the article from October which provides a charming, complementary description from Father Expert's perspective of Edmund's visit. (The words in brackets have been added by me). The articles from the December 1956 and January 1957 Bulletin will appear in a subsequent blog post.

Article, Bulletin Paroissial de St-Sauveur-de-Meilhan.
October 1956

Visit. - We aren’t telling anyone anything new when we say that the Director [i.e., Abbé Maurice Expert] of the “B.P.” [the Bulletin Paroissial] is an experienced and eminent philatelist! Yet, last year, on the basis of a small announcement in “The Echo” [perhaps a newsletter for stamp collectors], he wrote to Mr. Odias Demers, Sanford, Maine, U.S.A. to exchange stamps . . . . Then, having satisfied each other, the exchanges followed regularly about once a month. Toward the beginning of the summer, the said correspondent wrote to Monsieur Abbé Expert that his son was going to leave for Europe . . . and that he might go perhaps as far as Saint-Sauveur-de-Meilhan! ! ! He responded to him by letter that he [his son] would be welcome, and, to show that, he was sent a lot of material: maps, directions, telephone number, bus schedules . . . which were remailed to him and which reached him in Rome.

Then several weeks passed. On August 15, before the High Mass, we received a telephone call . . . the visitor announced that he was in Marmande . . . . Friendly neighbors went to search for him and dropped him off at noon for lunch at the rectory, at the height of the holiday feast!

Mr. Edmond Demers is a young man of 35 years, tall, with a beard. He is a professor of fine arts and painting at Clarke College which just celebrated its 100th year. It is a Catholic women’s liberal arts college with about 400 students in the center of the United States, in Dubuque, Iowa.

He left for France at the beginning of June, with a Kodak . . . A pleasure trip, certainly, but which will serve him well for his own learning and that of his students. He disembarked at Le Havre and was in Rouen for the celebrations of Jeanne d’Arc [Joan of Arc] and of the resurrection of the Cathedral. He visited Reims, Strasbourg, Luxembourg and some cities in Germany. After having gone by Vienna, Austria, he went to Italy. He visited Venice, Florence, Genoa, and spent almost two weeks in the Eternal City. He had an audience with the Pope at Castel-Gandolfo which included four or five thousand people, to whom Pius XII spoke in five or six languages!

It was after all these splendors that our likable visitor took the road to Saint-Sauveur, not without first visiting Marseille! Here he found the benefits of the calm of the countryside and of friendship. He rested from his fatigue during three days, all while visiting, with the immortal Citroën of the Pastor, the surrounding country: Meilhan and Cocumont on Thursday, Bazas and Aillas-le-Grand on Friday, without missing Sigalens, Montclaritz and Aillas-le-Vieux.

Our visitor spoke fluent French, having been to French elementary schools earlier, and as the State of Maine, his native land, borders Canada, he is a descendant of, and still has relatives in, French Canada. .  . He was also able to talk a lot here to both learn and respond to innumerable questions that were posed to him. . . .

Everything must come to an end. . . He left by bus at 7 o’clock from Marmande, Saturday, August 18, his heart heavy, it seemed, and very touched, he wrote to us, by all that we had done to “make his visit to Saint-Sauveur comfortable and interesting.”

He headed for Paris, where he spent the last days visiting our capital. He then left for Le Havre where he had to take, at the beginning of September, the same passenger boat.

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Acknowledgements


Of course, I must start by thanking Edmund for allowing me to publish his travel notes. Toward the end of our first meeting in almost 40 years in 2015, Edmund took out his European travel notes and read a few passages to me. I asked him immediately if I could read through the notes and publish them along with the travel notes of his grandfather Télesphore and great-aunt Odelie, but he was reluctant to do so and the matter was dropped. About a year ago, as it was evident that his health was steadily deteriorating, I asked him again about allowing me to work with him on publishing his notes and this time he happily agreed to it.

For several months we worked together on it, including the work on translating the notes into French. In the notes, he mentions several times taking photographs. With the help of his daughter Peggy Trout, we were able to track them down in his home. By early February 2019, several weeks before his death, Edmund was able to read the near final form of this post and we spoke about the notes that he wrote about the final leg of his trip, his visit to Paris, eastern France, Germany and Switzerland, but he never was able to see the transcribed or translated notes from that part of his trip. So this post represents the last of our collaboration on the blog, a collaboration that spanned almost three and a half years and three travel journals, and included many hours talking about our shared Demers family history.
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Edmund and I working on the travel journals of Télesphore and Odélie Demers.
Farmington, N.H. Spring 2016.
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I also want to thank Peggy for all her encouragement and help during this time and for her continuing help on my work on the rest of Edmund’s notes. Peggy’s involvement with the various travel journals goes all the way back to Edmund’s translation of the French text of Télesphore’s journal in 1990 when she typed his final handwritten translation of it. Since 2015, she encouraged both Edmund and me in our work and facilitated our communications and our meetings. She continues to generously share material with me from Edmund’s collection of written materials, photos, and artwork.

As with all the French-language posts, my cousins in Victoriaville, Québec, Cécile and Jeanne d’Arc Leblanc, helped revise the French version of this post. Thank you both so much for help!

Finally, I must acknowledge the help I received from the historical society of Cocumont, France, l’Association de Cocumont Memoire et Patrimoine, particularly its president Denis Mourguet and one of its active and devoted volunteers, Pierre Kurmurdjien, for their help and interest in this project. After reading the notes about Edmund’s visit with Father Expert and seeing Edmund’s photos, I went online to see what information I could find about the villages and churches that Edmund described. Very quickly I found the association’s website, which contains written descriptions, photos and videos of the Vieille Église that Edmund visited and even a video of a recent tribute to local historian Alfred Veilhon, the elderly man Edmund wrote about so admiringly during his short visit in Cocumont. Both Denis Mourguet and Pierre Kurmurdjien speak in the video about Mr Veilhon during the unveiling of a plaque on his tomb that reads: De condition et de nature modeste, il sut écrire l’histoire de nos ancêtres et de notre cher village. [A humble and unassuming man who was able to write the history of our ancestors and of our dear village.] (You can view the video clip here: https://cocumontpatrimoine.jimdo.com/agenda/les-évènements/.)

By email, I sent the association a copy of Edmund’s notes of his visit to the area and several photographs that he took, and asked for its help to identify the locations of the photos and for information on other sites mentioned in the notes. In several email exchanges, Denis Mourguet and Pierre Kurmurdjien provided much information, including a photo of Alfred Veilhon, who appears exactly as Edmund described him. Mr. Kurmurdjien also provided other photos of places in the area and excerpts from the parish bulletin written by Father Expert in Saint-Sauveur. I thank them both so much for their interest in the project and the help they have given me. The association’s website is entirely in French, but whether you know French or not, I encourage you to look through it at the following link to see the many photos and videos of the historic churches and other historic structures the association is helping to stabilize and maintain in Cocumont:  https://cocumontpatrimoine.jimdo.com.
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