Thursday, August 30, 2012

Le Ville de Colpach-Haut

They may have had the same destination, but Catherine and Nicholas did not share the same place of departure.  While Catherine’s family came from the German border, Nicholas came from the French border; and based on my experience in Luxembourg and what little I know of the history of the region, my guess is that, while Catherine spoke German and Luxembourgish, Nicholas probably spoke French and Luxembourgish. 

Why, I ask you, has our family not maintained any of these languages?  I, for one, would like to know Luxembourgish, especially since I now know about 5 words in French and 10 words in German.  (And let me tell you… every single one of these words was used time and again on my trip last weekend, often intermingled in half German, half French sentences that were sometimes understood by the locals!)

Anyway.  Nicholas was from the French border town of Colpach-Haut, also known by its German name, Obercolpach, and its Luxembourgish name, Uewerkolpech.  The pin on the map looks like it’s in Belgium, but trust me, it’s not.  It’s just that close. 

Map picture

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Before showing you the pictures of his tiny village, let me give you the run-down of his life.  There’s quite a lot to say!

Nicholas Bartholome was born in Colpach-Haut on March 27, 1832.  Like every child in this tiny farming village, Nicholas spend his childhood assisting his father on their family farm land just outside of town.  Before emigrating from Luxembourg to the United States in 1855, Nicholas also spent time working on several larger farms in Northern France.  I think it’s probably fair to say that he knew farming, and he knew it well. 

At the age of 23, Nicholas went to the United States, spending 62 days on a boat that landed him in New York City.  (If I were him I would have turned around and got back on that boat right then and there.  Alas, if I were him and I did that, I wouldn’t be here today.  So, perhaps he made the right decision after all!) 

He soon landed himself a job driving the horses that pulled the barges along the Erie Canal.  Imagine!  From there he went to Buffalo and worked on steamers, then to Chicago to drive horses that pulled street cars.  After Chicago came St. Louis and then Louisiana to cut timber.  When the Civil War broke out he went back to St. Louis and was drafted for the final six months of the war. 

He must have been getting his ‘big city kick’ during those wild 20’s years of his life.  He reminds me of someone I know… 

Eventually, he made his way to good ole’ Bellechester.  Perhaps he had had enough of the big city and decided to get back to what he knew best… farming.  In 1861, he bought a half a section of land, the deed of which was signed by Abraham Lincoln and is currently in the Wabasha Court House. 

It had been some time since he had heard from his family back in Luxembourg, so in 1868 (36 years old) he made a trip ‘home’.  There he found that his mother, Susan Miller Bartholome, had died, and he convinced his father, Peter, his brother, Dominic, and two sisters to return with him to Bellechester.  Now, think about this…. what must he have said about Bellechester to convince his family to uproot their entire lives and move across the Atlantic to live there with him?  Well, one sister wasn’t convinced and decided to stay in Luxembourg.   Smart woman.

After this, Nicholas keeps farming, meets Catherine for a cup of tea in Lake City a few times, watches a few sunsets over Lake Pepin with her, finally gets up the nerve to pop the question, gets hitched (her 20, him 40) by the 4th Bishop of St. Cloud, brings her back to the farm, and raises a family of 11 kids (including the 5th Bishop of St. Cloud and 1 Priest) right there on that same piece of land that many of us refer to as ‘The Farm’. 

He done good for himself.

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Nicholas died in 1918, at the age of 86 and after 45 years of marriage.

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But after visiting Colpach-Haut this last weekend, the question I want to ask him is, ‘Why in the world did you ever leave?’… other than the fact that it’s smaller than the city block on which I currently live and there’s nothing around for miles and miles, except for other teensy-tiny villages smaller than the block on which I live nested in the distant valleys and hills!  Seriously, I knew it was small, but when the bus driver practically laughed at me when I expressed my intentions of being taken to Colpach-Haut, camera in hand, I thought for the first time, ‘there might literally be nothing there’! 

And sure enough!

So here it is, Colpach-Haut, in all its glory.  It’s smaller than Bellechester, but it has a bus stop… and a bus that goes through it… and… well, that’s about all that it has on Bellechester! 

Our photo tour today begins with the town pasture/junk yard.

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In the picture below is the town park… next to the town pasture/junk yard.  On the right hand side you see a white farm building which will feature in several of the upcoming photos.  (There weren’t many buildings to take pictures of, folks.) 

You can also see the colorful houses/flats just behind the white building.  Supposedly there are around 150 people who live in this town, but in reality, most of them must live in a row of houses that lead in to the ‘town’.  You can see some of them if you look back at the picture with the Colpach-Haut sign in it.  Imagine Bellechester… imagine a single row of houses lining the highway from the Bartholome Farm to the Catholic Church, at which point, there is a small cluster of 6-8 houses surrounded by fields.  That, my friends, is Colpach-Haut.  I suppose if Colpach-Haut was anything then like it is today, and if Bellechester was anything then like it is today, Bellechester was an upgrade!  Hard to imagine, I know.  Please don’t try too hard.  You could hurt yourself.

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Here’s practically the same picture.  Notice the city park on the left with its luxurious park bench (a cow ‘mooing’ in the background) and the farm buildings to the right.  Believe me when I tell you that everything that you see in this picture below truly is the ‘center’ of town.  Even if I pointed the camera twenty feet to the left or twenty feet to the right, nothing new would be added to the picture.  Other than a tractor moving a bale of hay. 

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If you don’t believe me, here’s the same buildings but from behind.  There are a couple houses hiding in the trees, the town pasture and park and the farm.

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Ah… but it’s when one travels to great heights that one can see what she could not see at the bottom of the deep blue sea, sea, sea. 

Huh?

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I suppose those people would be included in the Colpach-Haut population (where else would they belong?), but they’re not really in town.  They’re not town-folk like the people who live in the colorful houses/flats.  ‘No sir.  Those are city folk who live in that there Colpach-Haut town’.

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‘Ahah!  There are more houses’, you say!  Sorry, folks.  Those are the backs of the colorful houses you’ve already seen.  I’m telling you… there’s NOTHING in this town.

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In fact, there’s not even a church in this town.  They had share with the town next-door, Colpach-Bas, including the use of their cemetery.  As I did in Beaufort, I wanted to check out the cemetery and see what I could find.  We are told that Nicholas’ mother, Susan Miller Bartholome, was buried in that cemetery, as would have been any of his aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.

Upon my arrival I didn’t know there was no church or cemetery in Colpach-Haut.  How did I discover this shocking information, you ask?  Well… let me tell you.  I put my French to work like I have never needed to before… even in class! 

Upon my arrival, I spotted an older gentleman, approximately 65-70 in age, and I asked him, with my best French accent possible, ‘Where is the cemetery?’  Now, I knew that the word for cemetery in French is basically the same as it is in English, so there really should have been no problem in understanding me.  Nevertheless, the man could not understand my abysmal accent.  I probably pronounced ‘cemetery’ twenty different times, in as many ways as I could think of.  Then I resorted to another method.  Here’s my rendition in English of what I said IN FRENCH (and probably some German here and there).  It was a crowning moment…

‘…the cemetery (blank looks). No?  Ok.  I am dead.  Where am I?  (blank look)  People who are dead, where are they?  (blank look)  I am sick and then I die.  Where do I go?  (‘You want to sleep?)  No.  (Time to bring out the big dogs…)  Ok.  My great great grandfather lived here and then he went to the United States.  His mother is here.  She is dead.  Where is she?  (blank looks)’ 

And then… ‘Ahah!!  The cemetery!!!’ he says.  ‘Yes, the cemetery.  That’s what I said!’  ‘There is no cemetery here.  It is by the church in Colpach-Bas… blah… blah… blah (French that I didn’t understand)’.  The point is that I TOTALLY communicated IN FRENCH that my great-great grandfather grew up in Colpach-Haut and then emigrated to the States, but that his mother is buried there!  So what if it took nearly five minutes to do?   

Colpach-Bas is a town about the size of Bellechester, a.k.a larger than Colpach-Haut, about 1 mile down the road.  This is the church, built in 1733, and a tiny bit of the tiny cemetery attached.  Because it is the only church serving the two towns, similar to the church in Beaufort, it is most likely the church in which Nicholas was baptized, communed and confirmed, where he and his family attended mass regularly, and possibly where his parents were wed, etc. 

The cemetery there was similar to what I saw in Beaufort, with family plots, most of which date to the late 1800’s.  Unfortunately, I did not find any with the name of either Bartholome or Miller. 

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Notice the farm.  I’m telling you, it’s Bellechester’s twin!

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I did, however, find more Wagner’s and…

a Majerus!  It was seriously like Luxembourg is the Old Bellechester and Bellechester should be named, New Luxembourg. 

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So, that is Colpach-Haut, the birthplace of great-great-grandpa Nicholas, and possibly even great-great-great-grandpa Peter (who’s also buried in Bellechester).   Much like the region around Beaufort, the land surrounding Colpach-Haut is rolling bluff lands and valleys, covered in corn and alfalfa fields and pasture lands.  It’s a truly beautiful place… much like Bellechester, except that Colpach-Haut doesn’t have this:

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They should have a running list of all the names and dates of the Bart Boys that have farmed this land since Nicholas.  But ultimately, this sign is a tribute to Nicholas.

For sure, there was not much in Colpach-Haut, from whence he came.  Other than me.  A distance Luxembourger Bartholome…

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…who will probably be talked about by the locals for years to come as the strange tourist who came to wander along their country roads and take pictures of their fields. 

It’s the equivalent of seeing an Asian tourist with a camera hanging around their chest walking around Bellechester.  You would definitely talk about that at the dinner table that night! 

So that’s it for the Bartholome’s in Luxembourg.  I wish I knew more and had more time to explore. 

How about we do a family reunion there in a few years?  Some of you could stand to work on your Luxembourgish skills.   Smile

2 comments:

  1. Very interesting! I recently found out that some of my family came from Colpach-Bas. There name was Delva and they immigrated to Bellechester, Minnesota. There are still some Delva family left there. In going through the microfilm of the Colpach parish records I noticed quite a few Bartolome names. They are also listed on the Belgium Civil registry. If any Bartholomews want to know how to access those records they can write me at bjmccombs@gmail.com. Barry McCombs

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    1. Thanks for your comment, Barry! I'll have to ask my Bellechester family members if they know any Delva's. And I'll pass on the contact info to those that might be interested in learning more.

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