In talking to my Aunt Joyce about our genealogy research on the Routier/Rousseau French-Canadian side of the family, she asked if I had found any Indian ancestors.  No, I replied, I had not.  Why, then, was Grandma Irene Routier so firm that there was Indian ancestry?  That was the mystery. After much looking and much thought, it seems to me that, rather than the occasional intermarriage here and there along the line, there was something else indeed.  A whole population of people originating from French and Indian mixture initially, but becoming something else, neither “laine pure” – pure–wool French Quebecois nor indigenous people connected to a tribe.  From generations of intermarriage with each other, they were a new people, Metis, passing for white but carrying the genetic and most likely some of the cultural characteristics of native peoples: Huron, Micmac, Algonquin, Abenaki, Nippising. 

I went looking at marriage and birth records in Quebec back to the 1620’s, and found not a one documented Indian ancestor.  And the French-Canadians were devoted record keepers, keeping their priests and notaries busy keeping track of a growing population.  Instead, what I found was the curious recurrence of the same family names, Fournier, Langlois, Martin, Lemieux, Cote, Pelletier, Lienard, including those who crossed over to my mother’s French-Canadian side. 

And then, in one particular web-site, which purports to record the Metis or mixed French/Indian history of Canada, many of those early names were listed as Metis. The situation soon became clear that some of the earliest ancestors were not documented back to France, or if there was a place given, it was “surmised”.  There were plenty of those ambiguous marriages, and of course, all those lines descending from them.  And as all genealogists know, what cannot be documented cannot be proven, one way or another. According to Archie Martin, writing on behalf of Eastern Metis, “Most Metis people today are not so much the direct result of Indian and White intermixing, but rather the direct result of Metis intermarrying with Metis…”. 

It’s a curious history, these Eastern Metis, and quite different from the people who populated the Red River area of mid-western Canada, descendents of the voyageurs and fur traders – these were truly the “middle-men” and women, who went between the established tribes and the owners of the French, and later English, fur trading companies.  The white men who intermarried with the native women were primarily French at first, and later Scottish.  They had a vital role in the opening up of the western frontiers and establishment of communities in those areas – and then, when the fur trade died, they lost that role. They had no place, no recognition, no real citizenship in any nation, and were not welcomed any more by the retreating Indian groups or the expanding white pioneers.  From there, poverty and social problems, but still, they saw themselves as a separate people, born to the land and with rights to be part of Canada. These Western Metis had a leader, Louis Riel, who lived in the 1880’s, and died in exile, executed for his efforts to gain Metis political and social recognition.

In contrast, the Eastern Metis remained silent all these years, blending more and more into the common history of Quebec, Acadia and the Eastern provinces, sharing with other francophones gradual cultural and economic displacement when the English took precedence.  As Archie Martin puts it, “The Metis of Quebec and Eastern Canada are known as the forgotten people, and this situation has existed for hundreds of years.”

It’s an odd thought to be descended from people who “passed” or stayed quiet about their true origins, seeking to fit in, assimilate, look and act more like those people in power. It’s been true of others, Jews seeking to survive in Catholic Spain, for instance. And in the United States, there are stories of mixed-race children of slaves who passed for white, and left behind forever their entire family roots and history.  When I think of my French-Canadian grandmothers, on both sides, I can only think of their forthrightness, their integrity and honesty – not people who hide things.  Or, maybe they didn’t. Maybe they hadn’t really forgotten, and maybe they weren’t completely silent. Maybe they told their children,” This is who we really are.”