Thrift Store Find: Rare recording of Metis folk songs from the 1800s

An occasional series that examines odd, interesting, and even valuable items found in thrift stores or at estate, yard, and garage sales. Sometimes, though, it's just old crap.

I picked up this rare 1985 vinyl LP from the newly relocated Vancouver General Hospital thrift store at 2535 East Hastings Street, near Nanaimo Street. (It used to be on Broadway near Main Street.)

Amateur opera singer and musicologist Lucinda Clemens, a native of Saskatchewan’s Qu’Appelle Valley, collected the 14 traditional folk songs of the Prairie Metis people contained on Une Chanson de Vérité in order to “present a tableau of the joys, the sorrows, and the dreams of the Prairie Métis during their quest for autonomy between the Battle of Seven Oaks in 1816 and the Battle of Batoche in 1885.”

Unearthed last Louis Riel song included on album

A little Internet sleuthing uncovered some scholarly reviews of the collection and various accounts of the origin and history of the song here titled “Riel’s Farewell”, which was first introduced by folk-song researcher and teacher Barbara Cass-Beggs in 1963 and which is purported to have been written by Métis leader Louis Riel in prison before his execution in 1885.

Clemens—who sang the songs herself and who, for some reason, copyrighted the recording under the pseudonym Nancy E. G. Hockley—explained in the enclosed notes and lyric sheets her reasons for the sparse musical accompaniment. (She chose piano and harmonium because they were widely available in the nineteenth century, and flute and piccolo because they were mentioned in Métis records from the time. Surprisingly, she rejected the fiddle, as ubiquitous as it may have been in Métis culture at the time, because, she maintained, it was used mostly for dancing, not singing.)

Many songs came from elderly Metis singer

The researcher transcribed and translated the songs herself after travelling, interviewing, and recording subjects; 10 of the traditional tunes about separation, battle, and conflict came from one elderly Métis man, Gaspard Jeannotte.

The record itself, with both the cover and vinyl in mint condition, only cost me $1.99. Although I no longer own a turntable, I did get a history lesson. And now I will turn it over to someone who will appreciate it much more than myself: local musical historian, DJ, audio curator, and former Straight drudge Kevin “Sipreano” Howes.

Check out Howes’s latest project, a great collection of mostly unknown Canadian indigenous recordings called Native North America, Vol. 1. (And read Alexander Varty's article on the record here.) He previously put together a similar compilation, this one of Canadian reggae and soul music in danger of being forgotten, titled Jamaica to Toronto (Light in the Attic).