Centuries of kinship—Exploring Métis identity through genealogy

On the left of the graphic, Tatânga Mânî [Chief Walking Buffalo] [George McLean] in traditional regalia on horse. In the middle, Iggi and girl engaging in a “kunik”, a traditional greeting in Inuit culture. On the right, Maxime Marion, a Métis guide stands holding a rifle. In the background, there is a map of Upper and Lower Canada, and text from the Red River Settlement collection.

By Delia Chartrand

Examining the ancestry of my father, Maurice Emile William Chartrand, has brought me closer to my own Métis roots. I am what could be called “a modern Métis.” I did not grow up on my traditional territory, like my father did on his homestead near Inwood, Manitoba. Rather, I grew up in a small mining town in northern Manitoba. I did not grow up speaking my traditional language. Michif was not an option in our household as my father had long forgotten how to speak what he called “Bush French.”

I did listen to Métis fiddling music at family reunions and to my father’s colourful stories of growing up on the land, but there was not a huge year-round family presence, living as we did, isolated in the North. Over time, many Métis of newer generations have become a more geographically dispersed people, moving farther from our communities and territories. Sometimes I wonder if we are not merely revisiting our atavistic “coureurs des bois” traits, which I assume are built into the DNA of many of us.

A handwritten and typed document

A page of the scrip affidavit for Josephte Chartrand (e000011889)

Studying genealogy has been an important way for younger generations of Métis like me to rediscover their roots and the successive generations of ancestors, both Indigenous and European, who found each other and created a unique people who embraced aspects of both cultures. Prior to the formation of the Métis Nation in the late eighteenth century, patterns emerged in the immigration and migration of European settlers, as well as in the marriage and cohabitation trends amongst settlers and Indigenous cultures. These can be seen when tracing familial roots.

My particular family tree stems from various regions of France, such as Gironde and Picardie. These regions are recognized as common areas of origin for early New France settlers. For example, Jacques Lussier, who was baptized in 1620 in Rouen, Normandy, and Marie Guyon, who was baptized in 1624 in St. Jean de Mortagne, Perche, are among my ancestors.

In New France, long before the Métis Nation coalesced, military alliances with neighbouring First Nations became critical. Those relationships are reflected in my genealogy. The French and Huron initially had a symbiotic relationship by allying themselves against their long-standing opponents: the British Empire and the Iroquois Nations. Evidence of the threat of conflict between the Huron and Iroquois can be found in my genealogy. The passing of my 9th generation grandfather, Nicolas Arendanki, in 1649 is marked by the phrase “Huron tué par les Iroquois” [“Huron, killed by the Iroquois”]. Arendanki’s daughter, Catherine Anenontha/Annennontak would go on to marry French settler Jean Durand dit Lafortune in 1662. The lives of these ancestors demonstrate the conflict among First Nations in the region during the colony’s early years and affirm the practice of marriage between the Huron and French settlers. And while the children of these unions would have been of mixed descent, they were not considered to be Métis.

As French settlers moved farther into the interior of the continent, intermarriage with other First Nations peoples began to occur and tied to these marriages were different social and economic impacts. Marriage records support these findings. Diversity among marriages to women of different Indigenous groups can be found with much frequency among my ancestral grandparents who lived in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. In my research, I noticed French men from Quebec marrying various Indigenous women, who were often designated by their first names followed only by a remark regarding their specific Indigenous group ties. Some of these historic terms are no longer in use.

A watercolour painting of two white buildings with a river in the foreground. There are two boats on the river.

St. Boniface, Red River Settlement by William Henry William Napier (c001065k)

In my family, the historical documents state that Laurent Cadotte, baptized in 1766 at Ste-Genevieve-de-Batiscan, Quebec, married Susanne Crise/Cree in St-Boniface, Manitoba; Etienne Boucher married Marie Siouse/Sioux; Pierre St-Germaine married Louise Montagnaise/Chipewyan; and Joseph Rocque married Amerindienne/Amerindian—no first name was given. This movement into the interior and the increased rate of intermarriage indicates many if not all of these individuals were involved in the fur trade. They likely depended on marriage and familial ties to Indigenous groups as a means to solidify their economic stability as they pursued hunting and trapping for furs.

The changing political structures of the nineteenth-century fur trade led to successive generations of mixed heritage families who no longer identified with either an exclusively European or Indigenous cultural framework, but who instead developed their own sense of cultural expression through a coalescence of cultures. This collective of people were referred to as the Métis Nation.

While Métis identity is often linked to certain families of dual descent within Red River, it is important to recognize that there are communities located outside the settlement. One such settlement is St. Laurent, a location on Lake Manitoba in the southwestern part of the province. My family traces its more recent genealogy to St. Laurent. By the late 1820s, those Métis who lived in semi-permanent settlements in that area were uniquely involved in various subsistence patterns, such as fishing and salt production, as a result of the demand for provisions coming from other established posts around them.

By the mid-nineteenth century, the St. Laurent region in Manitoba was permanently settled by four Métis families: the Chartrands, the Pangmans, the Lavallées and the Sayers. The Chartrand and Lavallée surnames are particularly significant to me. The matrilineal line of my father’s genealogy stems from Marie Rose Germaine Lavallée, baptized in St. Laurent in 1918, or Granny as I knew her. The patrilineal line stems from Joseph Gedeon Harvey Chartrand, baptized in 1907 in St. Laurent. Although we never met, I’m told he went by Harvey.

Colour photograph of a man and a young girl smiling at the camera with a white camper and a car in the background.

A contemporary example of Métis kinship. The author is pictured with her father, Maurice Chartrand, circa late 1990s.

There are many variants comprised within the cultural term “Métis.” I wanted to provide a closer look at the development of just one of the unique Métis communities in southern Manitoba. By examining eleven generations in the family tree of my father, Maurice Emile William Chartrand, we can connect to the personal stories of seventeenth-century French immigrants to New France, through to the European traders who migrated into the interior. A specific focus on the marriages occurring over the last four centuries shows the gradual development of just one example of interconnected Métis heritage.

Personally, I like to think about all the grandparents who came before me. How they shared their distinct cultural perspectives and teachings with one another in order to create new communities and unique identities for their children. And I smile a little knowing my parents did the same for me, a self-professed modern Métis.

If you are interested in learning more about your family’s story or your Indigenous identity, you can find more information on Library and Archives Canada’s genealogy pages.

This blog is part of a series related to the Indigenous Documentary Heritage Initiatives. Learn how Library and Archives Canada (LAC) increases access to First Nations, Inuit and Métis Nation collections and supports communities in the preservation of Indigenous language recordings.


Delia Chartrand is an archivist for the Listen, Hear Our Voices project at Library and Archives Canada.

Transcribing the Coltman Report – Crowdsourcing at Library and Archives Canada

By Beth Greenhorn

In the spring of 2016, Library and Archives Canada (LAC) digitized A General Statement and Report relative to the Disturbances in the Indian Territories of British North America, more commonly known as “the Coltman Report.” Its digitization was in support of the 200th-anniversary events commemorating the Battle of Seven Oaks, organized by the Manitoba Métis Federation in June 2016.

Top half of Page 1 of William Batchelor Coltman’s report concerning the Battle of Seven Oaks. Handwriting in faded black ink on cream coloured paper. The writing begins before and crosses over the red vertical margin line on the left side of the page.

Screenshot of Page 1 of the Coltman Report, 1818 (MIKAN 114974)

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Wampum belts

“Wampum belts” and “wampum strings”… what do these expressions refer to in the colonial archives of the Library and Archives Canada collection?

Wampum—a word originating among the Algonquian peoples in the southern parts of New England—refers to tubular white and purple beads made from certain seashells found only on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. It is an abbreviation of wampumpeague (or wampumpeake), meaning “a string of white shell beads.” In the early 17th century, wampum became an important trade item in the growing fur trade in the northeast of the continent, in addition to serving as currency in the Dutch and English colonies until the 1660s.

Black and white drawing showing two types of wampum: belts and strings.

Drawing published in 1722 showing the difference between wampum strings and wampum belts (MIKAN 2953327)

The Iroquoian peoples from inland areas made special use of wampum in their formal diplomatic meetings with foreign or neighbouring groups. The shell beads were woven into strings and belts of varying sizes, which could contain anywhere from a few hundred to over ten thousand beads.

Oil painting on canvas showing a man standing in a forest with a wolf at his feet. He is dressed in black, wearing a red cape, and holding a wampum belt in his hand.

Portrait of Tee Yee Neen Ho Ga Row (baptized Hendrick), one of the “Four Indian Kings” who met the Queen of England in 1710 with a wampum belt in hand.

Playing a central role in international meetings and in maintaining good relationships, wampum belts were offered at official gatherings to record the words spoken, to render them official and legitimate. From the early 17th century to about the early 19th century, use of this diplomatic system spread to a large part of the American Northeast, from the vast Great Lakes region to the Maritimes, although with significant variations.

Black-and-white photograph showing several different kinds of wampum belts and strings.

Wampum belts and strings preserved by the Six Nations in the 1870s (MIKAN 3367331)

Since they were used to record spoken words, some wampum belts were kept for many years to ensure that the messages on them were maintained and preserved over time. That is why observers in the 17th and 18th centuries often compared wampum belts to archives or other official written documents (deeds, registers, annals, contracts, etc.).

Black and white photo showing six men looking at wampum belts. Five individuals are seated and the sixth seems to be explaining a wampum belt.

Six Nations Iroquois chiefs explaining the wampum belts they were preserving in 1871 (MIKAN 363053)

Wampum belts were sometimes kept over a long period so that the terms of agreements reached would not be lost. As a support for oral tradition, wampum belts bearing the words spoken at a special event therefore had to be accompanied by a speech to be meaningful. Accordingly, the keeper of the wampum belts ensured that their meaning was repeated from time to time to community members. Periodically, he repeated publicly the “content” of the wampum belts preserved so that the nation’s history would be transmitted to the younger generation.

To continue your search: Wampum belts are frequently mentioned in the France fonds des colonies and the Haldimand fonds. The Héritage project is presently digitizing the many microfilm reels contained in these fonds.